#she said she was feeling the plant's pain and fainted

[cepheusgalaxy]

Hmmm I think maybe with Pokemon XY? You know when Ash and Grey Ninja unlock that super cool mode where they merge and Grey Ninja gets super pumped up but every hit he feels Ash also feels so when he fainted the first time I think that one got me in 👌

I was sat trying to work out what got me into whump. I thought it was coming across the community. However, I have been watching/listening to all of the Saw movies. Then it hit me. It was because of them.

The first one I watched was either Saw or Saw III (I don't remember exactly but I think it was Saw). I do remember being about 10 or 11 (so about 16 or 15 years ago) and watching it on the free horror channel after I was meant to be in bed.

Not only did Saw start my horror and thriller love, Creepypasta phase (yep I went there) later, and now my love for the whump community overall.

I'm curious where it started for everyone else.

[drunk-person]

Bravery in love

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: For Prince Aemond Targaryen, bravery was in war and fighting. Until he met his wife and learned about different forms of bravery.

WARNING: No age restriction. Unhealthy amounts of cuteness and softness, a tiny bit of pain, and one paragraphs of sexual innuendo.

Word cont: 3.500 k

Author's note: Okay I saw a really cute video of a baby discovering that she could move her legs whenever she wanted and she was so cute and I ended up writing this story which is basically a giant fluff hahahaha. English is not my first language so be kind if you can 💕💕.

♡-♡-♡

The sun was already high in Kings Landing on a beautiful warm spring day, the beauty of the season lifted everyone's spirits, but no one had a bigger smile than Princess Y/n, Prince Aemond's wife as she ran to the bedroom door to tell them to call her husband.

The two had been married for two whole years at this point, an arrangement made between Aemond's grandfather and her father. Initially Y/n was apprehensive about the marriage, considering the many terrible stories she had heard of women who had married before her. But upon meeting Prince Aemond, her heart melted for him before she even realized it.

He seemed cold and hard at first when she arrived at the capital, but then suddenly he was so shy and so sweet when they were alone in the garden to talk for the first time. And when Y/n said she liked stories, he smiled, turning his face to the side and told her that he also really liked stories.

Later that night, when Y/n returned to her room, she found a book with a black leather cover and the title "Rhaenys, the bravery of love" next to a very small blue flower. The young lady thought she would faint right there when she touched the soft petals of the flower.

Then came the wedding and after that nothing but happiness with her husband. Every day the two became closer and trusted each other more, to the point that Aemond told her his deepest sorrows and she in return confided hers, and little by little she realized that everything her husband wanted most was just be loved, and that's what she did, she loved him.

Y/n felt happy in a way she never thought would be possible, there was only one problem, it had been a year since the wedding and her belly still hadn't shown any signs of growing. And it wasn't as if she and her husband weren't trying, after they both became acquainted Aemond became thirsty for touch and planted his seed in her every day, sometimes more than once a day, which made her even more worried.

The cruel whispers had already taken over the fortress. Words like "infertility" and "dry womb" became common when they thought she wasn't listening. And as broken as Y/n's heart was, she tried hard to pretend to her husband that it didn't hurt that much. She knew how much Aemond wanted a child, and it was her duty to give him one, guilt plagued her when she thought about it, thinking that she couldn't do so little for a husband who gave her everything she asked for without blinking.

On a winter afternoon with the weather colder than usual in the capital, Y/n was sitting alone in the garden admiring a pair of nightingales that had made a nest in a nearby tree when she felt Aemond's soft but possessive touch pulling her towards him.

-What are you doing here in this cold weather? You'll freeze. - His low voice sounded against her ear and she just smiled weakly.

-I like coming here, it's where we had our first conversation, remember? - She looked at him. - It always makes me happy to think about that day when I don't feel cheerful.

-And why would the most beautiful lady in the realms be sad? - Aemond looked at her deeply, Y/n felt as if he saw through her soul and still trying to hide his sadness, he looked down at the ground.

-Wife. - His gloved fingers guided her chin up and she couldn't escape his gaze again. - I know something is wrong, tell me.

And Y/n could no longer contain herself, the tears that were very well kept ran loose down her face as she hid them in her husband's chest, sobbing and trembling while holding on tightly to him, as if he would evaporate before her.

-I'm sorry, husband! - She sobbed against his chest.

-Y/n, my dear, did someone hurt you? - His voice sounded calm but with barely contained anger as he pulled her closer and closer in an act of protection. - Tell me who it was and I will kill him myself.

-No one has hurt me, husband. - She leaned against him, still pulling on his jerkin. - It's just me and my apparent inability to grant you a child.

-It is not up to you to grant me a child. - He said, looking at her firmly as he brought his hands to her face. - That depends on the will of the gods, when they feel it's time, they will send us a son. Until then, I don't want to see you crying because of this. - He stroked her cheeks with his fingertips and Y/n smiled, her face still slightly wet.

-Now let's go in and have some tea, I don't want you to catch a cold. - He guided her inside by the waist.

That night, amidst moans and groans of love and burning passion, Rhaenys was conceived to the joy and pride of her mother and father.

To Aemond's relief, Y/n had an easy and uncomplicated pregnancy; she just had a burning desire for him and wanted him inside her every hour of the day without rest, something he granted without discussion after a extensive research to find out if it would not pose a risk to his wife or the baby.

The birth was not much different, it was late summer and the weather was starting to get cooler, but even so, it was a difficult time and Aemond did not leave Y/n's side at any time, and the maesters did not dare ask him to leave the birthing chambers more than once after the absolutely deadly look Aemond gave them at the first request.

And when Y/n cried and told her husband that she was scared, he grabbed her hand tightly and whispered only for her to hear.

-I know you can do it, my sweet girl. - Leaving a kiss on her sweaty chest.

-I am not as brave as you. - She cried while shaking her head and holding onto her husband's hands.

-Remember that there is also bravery in love. - Aemond spoke softly, but confidently as he squeezed her hand.

And after hearing that with restored strength at the thought of her little baby, Y/n pushed even harder as she screamed through the pain and could finally hear the sweet cry of her little girl. At that very moment she burst into tears of pure relief and emotion, and when the maester placed her in her arms wrapped in a bloody white cloth she could swear she saw her husband shed a tear or two too.

And with passionate smiles the two chose the name of their little daughter in honor of the conqueror who gave the title to the first gift that Aemond gave her on the day they met. And from that sweet moment on, little Rhaenys became the pride and joy of both their lives.

Almost 7 moons later, already in spring Y/n now felt that her happiness was complete. The sparkle in her eyes could be seen from miles away as she played with her little daughter who had begun to sit up on her own. With each new discovery Rhaenys made, Aemond and Y/n celebrated as if it were a victory in a tournament.

One of the sweetest moments was the day she discovered she could control her own legs. It was something so simple, but so sweet. They were sitting on the bed talking while Rhaenys absentmindedly played with a small wooden sculpture in the shape of a dragon, using it to scratch the teeth that had bothered her since birth.

Suddenly, when they both looked, Rhaenys was laughing as she slowly raised her left leg and watched with a look of delight, only to do the same with her right leg and then lean forward trying to grab her own legs, smiling and babbling.

They both smiled and looked at her full of love, everything was perfect and Y/n had never felt so good in her life. Except for the fact that two days later she discovered that the court had not stopped talking about her. Y/n was walking distractedly towards her own chambers when she heard the whispers and low laughter of other ladies.

-So long to be able to give the prince a child and when she does, it's a girl. - The mockery was clear in that voice.

-Poor Prince Aemond, how much longer will it take until she can give him an heir? - Another lady laughed while whispering. - He'll have to settle for just a daughter, it seems.

Y/n felt her eyes watering at the same moment and accelerated her pace towards the rooms while breathing deeply trying to contain her tears and with a deep sigh she entered her own chambers while wiping away a tear that escaped. As soon as she raised her head and looked at the room she almost smiled at the scene before her.

Aemond sat on the carpet with his long legs crossed with his little Rhaenys held in his arms, his voice sounded softly through the room and now Y/n smiled genuinely when she saw what he was doing.

-Say Kepa. – Aemond smiled gently at his daughter. - Kepa. - He spoke more slowly while gently caressing the child's back.

Her husband was always trying to teach her to say "father" in Valyrian, and the little girl just babbled as she stuck her fingers in her mouth and smiled toothlessly at her father. Aemond swore that she was almost able to do it and that she had even said a syllable to him when they were alone. The prince, feeling like he was being watched, raised his head and smiled softly when he saw his wife standing near the door.

-Your muña is back byka sõvion. (Little butterfly) - He murmured softly to his daughter as he gently shook her and made the little girl smile. Aemond's loving gaze gradually faded as he noticed his wife's melancholy and he carefully placed Rhaenys on the carpet, leaving a soft kiss on the crown of her slightly curly silver hair.

-Umbagon va se ritz byka sõvion. - (Stay on the carpet little butterfly) He whispered as if his little daughter could understand every word and she just screamed and babbled while slapping her hands on the carpet.

The prince walked slowly to his wife and pulled her closer to him, caressing her hips with the tips of his thumbs.

-What's wrong, Issa jorrāelagon? - Aemond murmured against her forehead, leaving a kiss there and then brushing his nose against hers.

-People can be very cruel sometimes. - She sighed against her husband's neck, and Aemond felt his own blood burn in his veins at the prospect of someone being cruel to his Y/n.

-Who had the audacity to say anything to you? - Aemond's voice was restrained, but anger dripped from the corners of his lips and Y/n just shook her head quickly as she laid her head on his chest.

-Just nasty whispers.

-What kind of whispers? - He continued with his voice carefully restrained as he pulled her closer and closer, holding her tightly.

-Does it matter to you that I gave birth to a girl? - She looked him in the eye with pain. - Would you rather have had a son?

-Sīkudi nopāzmi. (Seven hells) - Aemond practically growled with his face contorted with rage as he held Y/n's face firmly between his palms. - Qilōni istan se wretched gīs qilōni naejot vestragon bona naejot ao? Ivestragon issa ābrazȳrys! (Who was the wretched soul who dared to say that to you? Tell me, wife!)

Y/n looked at him confused, not understanding what he had said other than ābrazȳrys. And breathing deeply, trying to control his own nerves, Aemond repeated more calmly while rubbing his wife's arms gently.

-Tell me who was wife. - He asked, looking deeply into her eyes. - Who dared to say such a thing to you?

-I just heard it when I was passing by. - Y/n had seen who it was, but she wouldn't tell him because she knew her husband would do something about it.

Aemond snorted again and pulled her back to him.

-Wife, I don't want you to listen to such nonsense ever again in your life. - He murmured to her. - You and our daughter are everything in my life, and although I wish to have more children, if we had no more besides Rhaenys I would be the happiest man in this cursed land for having you.

-To issi issa glaeson. - He sighed as he tucked a lock of Y/n's hair behind her ear.

-What does that mean? - She asked slightly emotional.

-You are my life. - He repeated, looking firmly into her eyes as he squeezed her hands in his. - And there is nothing I value more than you and our byka sõvion.

He smirked as he looked at Rhaenys who had laid down and was now trying to shove her own foot into her mouth while spluttering and laughing.

-You know me better than anyone else, wife, and I'm honest when I tell you that I've never been happier in my entire life than I am now. Our family brings me joy.

The smile on Y/n's face could warm even those beyond the wall as she jumped on her husband and hugged him happily.

-I love you, husband. - She sighed against his neck, Aemond didn't respond, but he never responded, at least not with those exact words, his heart was much more complex than that.

More moons passed, and Aemond became increasingly enchanted by his daughter, his eyes shining with each evolution and discovery that the little girl made. He never wanted to miss anything, he liked to be there for every little new thing and he made it clear to Y/n that she should call him anytime and that's what she did on one special day.

-Send for my husband! As soon as possible. - Y/n hissed at one of the maids who was passing by the hallway. The young woman nodded and ran without even looking back towards the training courtyard to look for the prince.

-Your grace, forgiveness for the interruption. - The girl said, looking at the ground. - But your wife urgently requested your presence.

Aemond's chest was briefly breathless when he heard that, and without caring about anything else, he dropped his sword on the floor and ran towards his own chambers.

He entered the room calling for his wife with wide eye, but his expression changed from fear to curiosity when he saw her with her index finger against her lips in a clear sign of silence for him, while with her other hand she pointed to the foot of the sofa where Rhaenys was standing for the first time as she tried to walk on her own.

Aemond's jaw dropped, and he felt tears coming to his eye, his little girl was almost walking.

-You forgot. - Y/n smiled and gently pulled off her husband's eyepatch, throwing it on the table. She had convinced him not to wear it around Rhaenys. At first he hesitated, but it proved to be a good thing since the little girl was completely enchanted by the sparkle of the sapphire in her father's eye, always reaching out her hands towards him and gently rubbing the area while she babbled. And Aemond wouldn't admit it out loud, but that small gesture of affection made him feel loved in a whole new way that he had never felt before.

Still with tears in his eye, Aemond turned away he slowly approached the couch as he crouched down next to his daughter, who, upon seeing him, screamed with excitement and took an excited step towards him. And as if all of this wasn't the most magical thing that had ever happened to him, Rhaenys began to babble as she tried to walk towards her father.

-Ke - She babbled waving her free hand towards him and Aemond felt his heart warm. - Ke-pa.

-Konir sagon paktot byka sõvion, māzigon tosh kepa. (That's right, my little butterfly, come with daddy) - He whispered to his daughter with a slightly cloudy voice.

-Kepah! - She screamed in that sweet baby voice as she took her hand off the couch to clap her hands and before she could fall on her butt on the floor, Aemond caught her, preventing her from falling while two tears ran down his eye. Rhaenys looked at him with wide eyes, a little scared after almost falling, but Aemond caressed her back affectionately, calming her.

-Ziry iksos byka sõvion, kepa kessa dōrī ivestragī ao ropagon. (It's okay, little butterfly, daddy will never let you fall.) - He smiled as more tears fell and Rhaenys looked at him enchanted as she once again caressed the sapphire attached to her father's eye. - Dõrī. (Never) - He reaffirmed with a look of pure love.

Rhaenys had said her first words and Y/n did not understand what her husband was saying to her daughter, just a few words that he had already taught her and the sweet nickname he gave Rhaenys, but her heart was so warm that Y/n thought it might be on fire. She could see the love overflowing from her husband's eyes in an uncontrollable way and at that moment Lady Y/n knew that only she and her little Rhaenys were enough.

About a moon later Aemond decided it was time to introduce his daughter to Vhagar. And after a short trip in the house on wheels and a walk along the edge of the royal forest they arrived at the immense dragon. Y/n already knew her, she had even flown on Vhagar with Aemond, but even so she was a little afraid for Rhaenys, something that she told herself was completely unfounded because of all the people in the world she knew that the only one who would never do anything that could put her Rhaenys at risk was Aemond.

The prince had barely approached the dragon with his daughter and she was already looking at him curiously, still with her head lying on the meadow. And while Aemond spoke to her in Valyrian, Y/n just smiled in love, the smile only got bigger after Rhaenys laughed and screamed as she took her little hands to caress the dragon's scales while babbling some incoherent things to her father.

-She'll be a formidable dragon rider one day. - Aemond stated seriously as he smiled sideways at his wife who just rolled her eyes unable to imagine her little girl on a beast that size, but she knew she had to get used to the idea, she was a Targaryen after all.

-If she's as good as her father, she'll be the best of them all. - Y/n smiled as she caressed her husband's back and left a kiss against her daughter's soft hair.

At the answer, Aemond smiled and pulled her by the waist closer to him and his daughter while leaving a sweet kiss on her lips.

-You've told me more than once that you're not brave. - He murmured against her lips as he gently brushed his own lips against hers. - But you were brave to love me when no one else tried. Thank you for being everything I wanted, everything I needed.

After saying that he extended a small flower with blue petals to her and smiled a little shyly as he made Rhaenys more comfortable in his arms.

And with tears in her eyes, Lady Y/n reached out and took the small, soft flower between her fingers, then hugged him and her smiling daughter, knowing that in her husband's strange and rigid language, that was an I love you.

Since Aemond was courageous enough to ride huge dragons, engage in sword duels and so many other dangerous things, but simple words terrified him. She didn't need them, she knew how to read her husband's heart, eyes and actions that told Y/n every hour of every day that he loved her, and even if he didn't love her, she was brave enough to love for both of them.

And with that thought she smiled and kissed him sweetly on the lips as she held both him and her precious Rhaenys close, her beloved most precious possessions.

[s-4pphics]

make the bed. (e.w.)

“𝒜𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒻𝑒𝒸𝓉 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈𝓃'𝓉 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒, 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝐼 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝒶 𝓈���𝑔𝓃.”

omggg my first writing challenge YIPPPEEEE shoutout to olivia rodrigo

ty to the post-pandemic prose and my babies @elliesbelle and @totheblood for pointers :D love yall down 

wc;cw: 1.1K, just angst YAAAAY, internalized homophobia, ellies so sad :(, mentions of alcohol

“lf I liked girls,” you slurred, your lips brushing against the shell of Ellie’s ear, the pounding speakers synched with the squeezes in her chest, “I swear t’god… you’d be mine.” 

Whenever you drunkenly murmur to her like this, Ellie wishes she didn’t hear you; She was shocked she could over the ruckus happening all around, rattling the bubble she created for the two of you. You always sounded so sure with your lies. They never fail to throw her into fight or flight mode. She tensed and her stomach churned in despair. 

“Y’so perfect, Ellie. Love y’so… fuckin’ much. All mine.” 

All she could do was nod and whirl you around with a pained smile before burying it into your clothed shoulder. You didn’t bat an eye; You were always the affectionate drunk. 

But she wanted to scream. To cry and beg and ask — demand that you fall into her right where you stand. To love her the way she’s loved you since she showed you how to ride a bicycle in elementary school. She flinched at every delicate kiss you planted on her neck, her hands squeezing at your hips. She doesn’t know if she wants to push or pull you closer. 

She knows. Her arms enclosed around your waist and you giggle into her skin. 

This is exactly how you two should be. She’s envisioned it since middle school: completely infatuated and engulfed in each other, secluded off in your own little world filled with nothing but solace. Closeness. Affection and desire. 

So why was she sick to her stomach at your scent? Lavender and sage no longer brought her the comfort that they used to in adolescence. She was being torn apart from the inside out, but she couldn’t scream. 

She only listened, digested every drunk fallacy that you directed to her in secret. With no one watching. No one ever watched. No one could know. That was your only rule when she climbed through your window months prior. Please just keep it between us, you’d whispered before leaning in to kiss her. 

At least Ellie could imagine that this was real as she held you tight: recreate the same image in her mind over and over. The two of you are together and happy to be in love with no selfishness or regrets in her mind. All she had to do was close her eyes, and you were all hers, just like you said. She’s so, so in love with you. 

But you didn’t want her. You never did. 

She’s instantly reminded of that day a few months ago. The memory feels like a ghost over her shoulder; Maybe that’s why she’s constantly peeking over it, picking at it with her nails. 

The two of you often reserved study rooms during exam season for review, but you had other plans. You were exactly where you were supposed to be — room 213 — but you weren’t by yourself. 

You — beautiful, as always — brought… friends. Friends that Ellie knew, that you knew, didn’t like her. She never actually talked to them, but she always felt… off. She was instantly riddled with anxiety, the books that she checked out ten minutes ago almost hitting the floor as her arms weakened. Sweat pebbled on her forehead as she stood and watched everyone stare at her. 

Why did it look like they were all laughing? She couldn’t hear any chuckles, but there was laughter. Someone’s laughing at her. Do they know? You have to know, but do they know about the two of you? About how Ellie feels—

Ellie? you’d called. 

… Mhm? she recalls almost fainting. 

Your eyes were confused; You knew something was off, and it made her even more nervous. 

Sit down, honey. Come meet everyone. You made sure to massage her knee under the table; It always soothed her. 

The introductions were surprisingly smooth. Ellie never expected your friends to be so polite considering how rowdy they seemed outside of class. She was pleasantly surprised and put at ease. Until the end of your study session. 

Everyone was packing their bags and cracking jokes. Ellie even got a couple laughs out of some of them during the quiet few hours. 

Ellie wasn’t sure what came over her, but she eased closer to you, still gathering your books. She relaxed at your scent. When you turned to face her with that gentle smile, her mouth moved on autopilot. 

I missed you so much. You never hit me back last night.  

Maybe it was the way Ellie said it. She shouldn’t have looked into your eyes the way she did, whispered to you like that, said she missed you with so much devotion. But she did, and she wished she didn’t. 

Your smile turned to worry instantaneously, and Ellie’s heart plummeted when your head whipped around the room to check if anyone heard before turning back to her. No one cared. 

Ellie felt like she’d been stabbed. It happened so quickly; she probably would’ve missed it if she blinked. Her nails dug into the hardcover of her books, tears jerking in her eyes before she tossed a stiff see you guys later over her shoulder and rushed out the room. You tried to grab her arm, but she shoved you off. She had to fight her instincts so she wouldn’t turn around and apologize for being too rough. 

She got back to her dorm and… trashed it while she cried. Disgust and anger flooded her system while she threw her clothes, her trinkets, the photo of you, Ellie, and her mother at your shared high school graduation across the room (she only sobbed harder when she noticed it cracked when it hit the floor). The emotions that rushed through her weren’t even for you, but for herself. Ellie’s own hope destroyed her, and she only has herself to blame. 

She should’ve known at the time to never speak to you again, but she loved you. She loves you. Every fiber, every cell of her being lived to see you at your happiest; It’s tortuous how you expose the darkest parts that she wished to keep hidden until the end of time. She hasn’t felt like this since she was a teenager. 

And yet, she still swayed you. Kept you close so she could breathe you in. This is the most you allow, at least: physical touch. She knew better than to allow you to mistreat her, but she couldn’t leave you. You both danced until your legs burned, and you fell into her bed the same night. 

She forced herself to lay in the massacred mattress that she’d tried to keep made since she was a kid. The least you could do was fluff the pillow you slept on every night.

[oofthwoods]

CHAPTER ONE! ── ˙ ̟ bring home the glory !!

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 :: "what is a legacy? it's planting seeds in a garden you never get to see. i wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me". | a victorious journey always begins with a death and an offer.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 :: funerals, grief and death. if you don't feel comfortable with these themes, go straight to the part after 2023. you won't lose much, i promise! the second part is somehow based on right hand man from hamilton, don't ask about it. this is pretty much a prologue number two tbh, but i still hope you enjoy it.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :: 3.2k

⭠ previous masterlist next ‭→

2021

In the solemn setting of the cemetery, the sun hung in the sky, seemingly unaware of the grief below. Its golden rays contrasted sharply with the darkness consuming your soul, each beam of light piercing through the heavy clouds of sorrow. As tears streaked your face, the warmth of the sun felt out of place, a painful reminder of the world's indifference to your shattered heart.

Standing beside the graveside, you looked up to the sky, seeking solace in its vastness. But the heavens offered no comfort, no relief from the ache within. You wondered why the sky remained clear, why it didn't reflect the storm of emotions raging inside you. Its serene blue expanse seemed to mock your devastation, its unwavering indifference amplifying your pain.

Your mother and her siblings stood ahead, their shoulders bowed under the weight of grief, their sobs a haunting melody that echoed through the air. But you stood alone, isolated in your sorrow, drowning in memories that threatened to consume you whole.

Memories of your grandfather flooded your mind like a deluge, each one a bittersweet reminder of the love you had lost. His laughter, once a source of joy and comfort, now felt distant and painful, a cruel reminder of all that had been taken from you. His stories, his wisdom, his gentle touch — they all seemed like distant echoes of a life that was slipping further and further away with each passing moment.

You recalled his final moments, the frailty of his form, the sadness in his eyes as he whispered his last words to you. "Be proud of who you are," he had said, his voice barely a whisper, his breath brushing against your cheek. "And never forget where you come from. Your roots are your strength, my dear." His words had been a lifeline in the storm of your grief, a reminder of the legacy he had left behind, of the love that would endure long after he was gone.

As you stood beside his grave, the words offered little solace. They felt empty, a faint reminder of the warmth once found in his embrace. You longed to reach out to him, to feel the warmth of his touch one last time, to beg for just a moment more in his comforting presence. But he was gone, lost to you forever in a world that seemed infinitely colder and darker without him.

You closed your eyes, allowing the tears to fall freely as you whispered your silent goodbyes to him, each word a prayer for his eternal peace. But even as you spoke, you knew that no amount of tears could ever hope to fill the void he had left behind, that no words could ever hope to capture the depth of your loss.

As you stood there, lost in your grief, the soft sound of footsteps approached from behind. You turned to see your mother returning, her eyes red and swollen from tears, her expression etched with the same pain that weighed heavily on your own heart. For a moment, you simply stood there, sharing a silent understanding born from the depths of your shared sadness.

Without a word, she wrapped you in a gentle hug, her arms providing solace amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling around you. "I'm not sure I can go on without him, Mom," you murmured, your voice barely audible as you buried your face against her shoulder.

Her embrace tightened, her fingers gently combing through your hair. "I feel the same way, sweetheart. But we have to find strength, for his sake," she whispered softly, her words tinged with a mixture of sadness and determination.

As you leaned into her embrace, the weight of your grief seemed to press down upon you, threatening to crush you beneath its relentless force. Your mother's presence briefly brought comfort, like a delicate lifeline amidst the stormy sea of emotions swirling inside you.

"I miss him so much already," you confessed with your voice trembling. "It feels like a part of me is missing, like I'll never be whole again."

Her arms tightened around you, a silent reassurance that you were not alone. "I know, my love. I do too," she whispered, her voice thick with unshed tears. "He was the heart of our family, the glue that held us together."

A bittersweet silence fell between you, punctuated only by the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. Memories of your grandfather danced through your mind like flickering candle flames, casting shadows of laughter and love against the walls of your grief-stricken heart.

"Do you think he's watching over us?" you asked quietly, your voice barely a whisper in the stillness of the evening.

Her hand stilled against your hair. "I'd like to think so," she replied, her voice wavering with uncertainty. "I'd like to believe that he's found peace, that he's somewhere out there, looking down on us with love in his heart."

Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined him, a silent guardian in the heavens above, watching over you with a warmth that transcended the boundaries of life and death. "I hope he knows how much we love him," you whispered, your words a fervent prayer whispered into the vast expanse of the sky.

"I'm sure he does, my dear," she murmured, her voice soft with tenderness. "And I know that wherever he is, he'll always be with us, guiding us through the darkness, lighting our way with the love that he left behind."

As your mother's words gently washed over you, a sudden movement caught your eye. In the corner of your vision, a flash of royal blue fluttered amidst the solemn surroundings. You blinked, momentarily startled, before fixing your gaze on the delicate creature that alighted on a nearby branch.

A small gasp escaped your lips as you beheld the bird, its feathers shimmering like fragments of the sky woven into living form. With a heart full of wonder, you watched as it stretched its wings, basking in the fading light of the evening sun.

"We can leave now, if you're ready, sweetheart." her mother murmured, delicately turning her daughter's face to meet her own. 

As your mother looked into your eyes, you could see the sadness reflecting in them, speaking volumes on its own. Although she softly hinted that you could go if you wished, it was evident that she longed for some respite from the weight of your mutual grief. Beneath her calm demeanor, you sensed her vulnerability, a silent plea to escape the overpowering sorrow surrounding you both. With a simple nod, you silently agreed.

With a mix of sadness and resolve, you followed your mother's lead, letting her guide you away from the graveside and back into the world. While you walked together, a quick look back caught your attention, drawing your eyes to the scene you were departing. And there, on top of the gravestone, sat the blue bird, its colorful feathers standing out against the solemn surroundings.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you watched the bird, a silent sentinel overlooking the final resting place of your beloved grandfather. He seemed to look at you, and, if birds could smile, you would swear he did.

2023

You find yourself standing outside a closed door, your hand hesitantly reaching out to lightly tap against the wood. The muffled voices from within only add to your uncertainty, but the urgency of speaking with the team principal before the Abu Dhabi sprint pushes you to take action. Whatever discussion awaits behind that door must be significant enough to pull you away from your pre-race meeting with the mechanics.

In the stillness of the hallway, time seems to stretch endlessly as you wait for a response that never comes. With a mixture of nerves and anticipation coursing through your veins, you finally muster the courage to grasp the doorknob. Its cool metal provides a fleeting sense of reassurance as you turn it slowly, the hinges creaking softly in protest as the door swings open to reveal the dimly lit room beyond.

Inside, seated at a table, is Mr. Vowles, engrossed in conversation. Your presence at the threshold goes unnoticed for a moment until you gather your resolve and speak up, your voice barely above a whisper as you address him.

"Mr. Vowles, did you need to see me?" you venture, your words hanging in the air with a hint of uncertainty.

At the sound of your voice, James looks up, his expression softening into a welcoming smile.

"Williams, come in," he says, his warm tone instantly easing your nerves as he gestures for you to enter. "Have you met Sargeant?" he continues, motioning towards a figure standing nearby, their presence previously hidden in the shadows of the room.

As James mentions Logan, it's like a floodgate of memories bursting open, whisking you back to the time when you and Logan shared an unbreakable bond. You were inseparable, navigating the twists and turns of life at the academy with laughter, support, and a shared vision of the future.

But as the competition for a spot in Formula One heated up, your friendship began to strain. What started as friendly competition slowly morphed into something more complicated. The pressure mounted, and with it came a subtle shift in your relationship. Each race seemed to drive a wedge between you, rather than bringing you closer.

It was at the peak of your rivalry that things started to unravel. Every little disagreement or perceived slight seemed to fester, poisoning the once vibrant atmosphere between you. Despite your efforts to keep up appearances, there was an underlying tension that threatened to fracture your bond.

When Logan secured a seat at Williams while you remained in F2, a whirlwind of emotions swept over you. Of course, you were genuinely happy for him, but there was also a pang of envy and disappointment gnawing at your heart. It felt like a piece of your own dream slipping away, leaving you grappling with a sense of loss you couldn't quite shake.

And then, just when you thought things couldn't get any more complicated, James hinted at the possibility of you stepping into Logan's shoes. The idea of replacing your friend-turned-competitor added another layer of complexity to an already tangled web of emotions. It was a constant battle between your ambition and the fear of losing the one person who had been by your side through it all.

"Yes, sir," you respond, choosing a simple response. Logan's gaze meets yours, seeming to ignite with intensity. "We keep on meeting"

In a deliberate choice of silence, Logan sidestepped any engagement with you, his eyes fixed on the team leader instead. "As I was just saying," he began, his voice brimming with confidence, "I truly believe that with these adjustments, I can improve my control over the car."

James reciprocated Logan's smile, though his gaze hinted at a wandering mind. "Sargeant?" he interrupted, signaling a shift in focus to another pressing matter.

"Yes, sir?" Sergeant replied promptly, ready for further instructions.

"We'll talk about this later. Close the door on your way out," James commanded, his tone decisive, drawing their exchange to a close.

As Logan's footsteps faltered on his way out, a pang of unease settled in your chest. You couldn't shake the guilt that crept in, knowing your success might come at the cost of his dreams.

In the relentless world of Formula One, sentimentality was a luxury few could afford. You grappled with the harsh reality that success often meant sacrificing the dreams of others. It was a something you had grappled with since the beginning of your journey, one that forced you to confront the truth that in this fiercely competitive arena, there would always be someone waiting in the wings to take your place if you faltered.

As you redirected your focus towards James, the man who now held the reins of your family's team, you couldn't help but reflect on the rarity of such a moment. Conversations with him had been few and far between, a testament to the typical hierarchy within Formula One teams where direct interaction between a team leader and a junior driver, especially mere hours before a pivotal race, was uncommon.

“Have I done something wrong, sir?” You ventured, a tinge of uncertainty coloring your tone.

"Not at all, quite the opposite actually," James responded, rising from his seat and leaning casually against the table, his arms folded. "Your stats this season are impressive—seven wins, numerous podium finishes. You've got a bright future ahead of you. But here's the thing, every day I see offers come across my desk to buy out your contract, and frankly, I find it amusing."

"Uh, sorry, I'm not following," you admitted, furrowing your brow in confusion.

"Williams, why is it that no team seems to be able to snag you?" James clarified, a hint of curiosity lacing his words. "You're undeniably talented, but turning down offers from big names like Alpine and Alpha Tauri might not be the smartest move."

"To drive their tractor, or worse, become a reserve driver? I don't think so." you remarked with a disbelieving smirk.

"Think about it, a spot at Alpha Tauri could open doors at Red Bull down the line," James suggested, attempting to sway your perspective.

"Everyone knows they have their sights set on Daniel Ricciardo, or Liam Lawson at best" you countered, a note of frustration creeping into your voice. "I'm a bit lost here. Why are you laying all this out for me?" you questioned, a perplexed furrow creasing your brow. You knew full well the offers on the table and why you were declining them. James likely wasn't in the dark about your reasons either.

"I'm just being honest with you," He replied, his tone carrying a hint of earnestness. His hand reached up to rub his forehead, fingers tracing over the lines etched there as if seeking solace in the familiar. "We're on a tight budget," he explained, a touch of resignation in his voice. "We're short on engineers and mechanics compared to almost everyone else, except maybe Haas and Sauber. While we've made progress since last year, I can't promise our car will match up to the competition next season."

James lifted his gaze, fixing it upon you with a mixture of earnestness and concern. "I'm not one to squander talent. I know you've got your reasons for sticking with us, and I'm grateful for the opportunity to have you on board. But I can't move forward without ensuring you understand exactly what you're signing up for."

"I'm just asking for a shot, James. Just one chance to prove that we've still got what it takes," you implored, your words tinged with determination. Images of past triumphs flickered through your mind, a reminder of the team's glory days.

With a weary smile, James let out a soft sigh. "Seems like sheer tenacity runs in the family, huh?"

"They used to say I took after my grandmother," you remarked casually, a wistful grin playing on your lips.

Turning to the desk, the man retrieved a piece of paper from a drawer, his movements deliberate and measured. "What are the odds?"

You knew precisely what he was referring to. "Iwasa's already out of the running. If I take the sprint, I'll have enough points to clinch the championship."

Extending the contract towards you, James presented it as if unveiling a glimpse of what lay ahead. "Win this championship, and the seat is yours."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, mingling with the anticipation that crackled between you. With the contract poised like a tantalizing promise, the room seemed to hold its breath.

You reached out tentatively, fingers hovering over the document that held the potential to shape your future. The paper felt crisp beneath your touch.

"I know it's a risk, trading one rookie for another" James conceded, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension. "But I believe in you, and I need someone who believes in this team."

A surge of determination coursed through your veins, bolstered by James's unwavering faith. "I won't let you down," you vowed, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves in her chest.

"TO TOP OFF AN INCREDIBLE SEASON, Y/N WILLIAMS WINS THE ABU DHABI SPRINT AND HAS ENOUGH POINTS TO CROWN HERSELF A CHAMPION." The narrator's voice reverberated through the sprawling circuit, amplifying the momentous declaration that crowned your achievement.

The roar of victory surged through the airwaves as your race engineer's voice erupted over the radio, a symphony of celebration. "You did it, Williams! Formula 2 champion, with one race to spare!"

Amidst the cacophony of cheers echoing from Rodin Carlin's garage, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins, the weight of your accomplishment settling upon your shoulders like a mantle of triumph. Your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions, a torrent of exclamations, gratitude, and tears that threatened to overwhelm your senses.

As you gradually eased the car to a decelerating pace, you couldn't help but feel the swell of pride and disbelief wash over you. With trembling hands, you lifted them skyward in a gesture of reverence, a silent tribute to the one who had inspired you journey.

"This one's for you, grandpa," you murmured, your voice a whisper against the backdrop of roaring engines and jubilant cheers. "I hope you're proud up there."

Amidst the jubilant chaos enveloping the pit lane, your thoughts swirled like a tempestuous storm, each emotion vying for dominance in the tumult of your mind. As you joined in the exultant cheers of your team, a sense of disbelief mingled with elation, the reality of your victory sinking in with each heartbeat.

In the midst of the celebration, you couldn't help but steal a moment to glance towards the podium, where your destiny awaited. The anticipation pulsed within you, a heady mixture of excitement and nervous energy propelling youforward.

As you ascended to the highest step, each stride felt like a triumph, a testament to the countless hours of dedication and sacrifice that have led you to this pinnacle moment. Your mind hummed with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, a kaleidoscope of memories and aspirations swirling in the depths of your consciousness.

The thunderous roar of the crowd enveloped you like a tidal wave, the sound of applause echoing in your ears as you stand upon the podium, bathed in the radiant glow of the spotlight. Your chest swells with pride, your heart beating in time with the pulsating energy of the spectators.

Locking eyes with James amidst the sea of faces, you feel a surge of excitement washing over you. There's a silent understanding that passes between you, a shared recognition of the journey you will embark upon together. In that fleeting moment, as your gazes meet, you know with a certainty that transcends words— you'll be signing that contract.

With a triumphant smile, you raise the championship trophy high above your head, the weight of your accomplishment buoyed by the unwavering support of your team and your unyielding belief in yourself.

And in the middle of the bustling paddock, a blue bird chirped happily, swooping towards the girl as she lifted the trophy high. It appeared as though he'd be sticking around a while longer.

taglist (tell me if you want to be added or removed <3 | italic means i couldn't tag you) :: @formulanni @clownrrari @leilanixx @notyouraveragemochii @alliwantisadonut @oooom4rie @watermelon-sugars-things @glitterquadricorn @minkyungseokie @formulaal @itsjustkhaos @thebearchives @hiireadstuff @laura-naruto-fan1998 @cptg00s3 @welovediaaxx @eugene-emt-roe @cha-hot

[birdiewritessometimes]

I’d love if you could do a Fred Weasley x Reader where he comforts the reader for Umbridge harm/quill. Thank you so so much!

A/N: Hi!! I really loved this! I hope i made your vision justice! Thank you so much for requesting <3

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Themes/warnings: Umbridge, pain, the quill-thing, hurt/comfort, fluff (because i love fluff)

Word count: 1500-ish

Please do not copy or translate my work!

It had been one of the worst days in your school year yet. You had overslept, missing breakfast and the first 15 minutes of charms. Then you had spilt food on your uniform shirt during lunch, making you rush up to your dorm to change, this made you late for your defence against the dark arts class. You felt the cold familiar feeling of dread rise in your stomach as you hurried along the corridors, already 5 minutes late for Umbridge’s class. You knew you were in for detention, you just hoped it would be normal detention and not detention in her office. You stopped outside the door to the classroom, taking a deep breath you quietly opened the door. You saw that the rest of the class was reading quietly, you groaned inwardly, there was no sneaking in. Then your eyes met the cold ones that belonged to the most hated teacher in this school.

“Miss l/n, care to explain why you’re late?” She asked in that sickeningly sweet voice she always used. You swallowed before walking in, letting the door close behind you.

“I’m so sorry professor, I had to change my shirt, I spilled food on it during lunch.” You mumbled, feeling the embarrassment hit, you noticed that the whole class was watching now. Umbridge cleared her voice in her normal fashion.

“Detention, for a week, now take your seat.” She said making your eyes widen. Sure, you had prepared yourself for detention today not for a week.

“A week? But professor, I’m only 5 minutes late?” You said in disbelief. You don’t know where it came from, you usually didn’t argue with teachers, choosing to keep your head down. A week felt unfair though.

“Miss l/n, sit down before I make it a month.” She said, her eyes glaring at you, but you stood planted at your place by the door.

“But prof-” You didn’t even finish when she interrupted you.

“Enough, miss l/n, my office after dinner.” She then said, that sickeningly sweet smile on her lips. You, however, felt like a bucket of ice water washed over you as you slowly made your way to your seat. Her office. You knew what happened to people who had detention in her office. Your eyes quickly met Harry’s, who gave you a sympathetic look, he out of everyone knew what awaited you. The rest of the afternoon went by in a haze and all you could think about was your detention with Umbridge. After dinner you slowly made your way to her office, that feeling of dread making yet another appearance. You knocked on the door and heard a faint ‘come in’ before you stepped in. Her office was covered in pink and pictures of cats and kittens.

“Good evening miss l/n, you will write some lines for me today.” She said, a wide smile on her face as she gestured for you to sit at a small table in the corner of the office. You went over to the table, bracing yourself for what was to come, you had heard stories of what Umbridge saw as ‘fit punishment’ and how it hurt, you had even seen Harry’s hand after he was sent to her office one time. You swallowed thickly as you sat down on the uncomfortable chair.

“What do you want me to write?” You asked, Umbridge made her way around her desk and walked up to you, placing a quill beside the paper that was laying on the table.

“I want you to write ‘I must not argue with authority’ for as many times as it takes for the message to” she paused, a satisfied smile on her face “sink in.” You nodded and grabbed the quill with great apprehension. You took a deep breath and began to write the line. It took a couple of lines before you could feel the pain form on the back of your left hand. You continued to write the lines, the pain white hot on the back of your hand. You felt the tears pool in your eyes as you wrote in silence, the only noise in the room consisted of Umbridge’s sighs of satisfaction. Around thirty minutes later you stepped out of her office, hand red and raw with tears streaking down your face. You dragged your feet through the deserted corridor, now letting your tears fall freely. Sniffling while clutching your hand you turned a corner and came face to face with the one person you didn’t want to see you like this, Fred Weasley.

It wasn’t like you didn’t like him; it was the exact opposite. You have been crushing on the Weasley boy for quite some time and you didn’t want him to see the mess of tears you were now. Before you could turn around and walk away, he grabbed your arm, his eyes wide with worry.

“Hey, y/n what happened?” He asked, worry evident in his voice. You felt your last resolve crumble when he looked at you with those eyes, his hand large and warm on your cold arm. You let out a hiccup when you showed him your hand, sobs falling freely from your lips now.

“Come here darling.” He said softly, pulling you into a hug, guiding you to sit at a bench in the corridor with him. He softly rubbed your back as you cried into his shoulder, his other hand gently stroking the knuckles on your injured hand.

“Ssshh, it’s going to be fine, it will fade and the hurt will go away.” He said softly before placing a kiss on your hair. He held you in that corridor for you don’t know how long, comforting you as you cried. The frustrations from the day slipping further and further away with Fred’s comforting gestures. Your sobs finally subdued, and you looked up at the boy. He gave you a soft smile.

“There she is.” He said, placing his hand on your cheek, wiping away the remaining tears, his hand lingered on your cheek. You sniffled as you looked up at the older boy, your eyes big in realisation that you cried on Fred Weasleys shoulder. He had in fact seen you as a crying mess.

“I’m sorry” You mumbled in embarrassment as you looked away from his eyes, quickly pulling your hair behind your ears, a habit you did when you were nervous.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, come on, let me clean your hand.” He said, soft smile on his face, as he took your good hand in his larger one as he led you through the castle and to his dorm. He sat you down on what you assumed was his bed as he gathered what he needed to clean your hand. He kneeled in front of you, gently taking your hand before dabbing it with a cotton pad. When you flinched he muttered a low ‘sorry’ before continuing. While you could feel the pain you were more aware of the way he was holding your hand, like it might break. He was trying to be as gentle as he could be as he slowly wrapped your hand to protect it while it heals. You were studying his face as he was wrapping your hand, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, his lips in a frown. You were close, so close that you could count each individual eye lash on his eyes. When he finished wrapping your hand he looked up, making your breath catch in your throat.

“Better?” He asked in a low voice, his hands found their home on your thighs as he gave them a squeeze. You gave a slow nod, your eyes never leaving his.

“Thank you, Fred.” You whispered, the atmosphere around you were heavy, you could feel you heart thumping loudly in your ribcage as the two of you sat there looking into each other’s eyes.

“You’re welcome darling.” He mumbled, his eyes flicking to your lips and for a split second you thought your heart stopped. Did he want to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him? Your eyes traced his handsome face, stopping for a short moment at his pink lips before meeting his eyes again.

“Please tell me you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you.” He said with a strained voice making your breath hitch, you gave a small nod. His lips were on yours in no time. It was better than you ever thought it would be. His lips were soft and gentle as he kissed you like you were made of porcelain, his hand moved to the back of your neck while yours found his shirt, fisting the collar. When you pulled apart for air Fred had a huge grin on his face as his thumb stroked your cheekbone, his smile was contagious, making you smile as well.

“If all I needed to do to make you smile was to kiss you, I would’ve done it sooner.” He said before kissing you again. You could almost thank the vile which who liked to torture children for the outcome of this very rotten day.

[euovennia]

oh oh - and if it’s not too much trouble to ask, an addition to mom/dad friend simon, maybe another hc where reader takes a bullet for him and he’s like "why would you do that" and she’s all like "because your my friend" and he’s like "🥹" rubbing my hands together deviously

so for anyone new, this post is a continuation of this request, but it can be read as a stand alone if you so choose! i will say simon may be a bit ooc but you've already been besties forever so it's fine. thank you to the anon who requested this, i hope i did it justice. now please, enjoy <3

so by this point it's become well established that you and simon are pretty much a package deal

one can never be seen without the other trailing too far behind

unless of course one of you (usually simon) is actually trying to do their job

but even then you both have a tendency to hover

well

the hovering is usually done by simon who will take it upon himself to sit somewhere in the same room as you while you work

but you're more direct in your approach

which basically means you have no hesitation in pulling up a chair and talking his ear off

depending on his mood/what he's working on he'll either slide something your way in hopes of distracting you into silence or he'll take part in your mindless chatter

it's usually the latter much to the annoyance of price whose come to notice that simon tends to submit his mission reports just a tad later than normal when you're around

but he doesn't dare say anything because he's just happy simon finally has someone to keep him company

even if it does mean him missing a deadline here and there

now with the amount of time you two spend around one another, there was the small concern that you two may become a bit more reckless on missions together

but honestly?

that couldn't have been farther from the truth

as much as you like messing around with simon, you're very aware that your line of work requires your full attention

so, despite how hard it can be at times, you limit your jokes and general shenanigans to the bare minimum so you can get the job done

and obviously it goes without saying that he does the same by shedding the name simon riley and becoming the infamous ghost

it was a bit startling for the team to witness this change at first

they honestly thought you two were mad at each other

but after the mission was said and done, you and simon started hanging out again and it just kinda clicked

simon probably uses you as an example to soap to be honest

anyway, point is

you both know how to keep your friendship out of the way in the field, you've practically mastered the art of it

but the moment you see him get into a knife fight with an enemy soldier on a mission, you can't help but worry

and you can't help the way your worry morphs into panic as you see a tiny red dot plant itself on his body as he finally drives his knife into the neck of the rival soldier

and you certainly can't help the way your feet seemingly begin to move on their own as you sprint toward ghost and practically ram him into the ground

and you most definitely can't help the yelp of pain that drops from your lips as you feel a searing hot pain rip through your lower abdomen

so much for those bullet proof vests

simon looks up from his position on the ground, knife in hand and ready to stab it into the poor soul dumb enough to tackle him like this

but then he sees you

he sees your face, eyes wide with shock and mouth agape

his eyes trail down your body and he swears his world nearly crashes as he stares at the dark red spot currently staining your shirt

he can only fear the faint sound of yet another gun going off before you're tumbling onto the ground

he snaps out of his daze to catch you and he can't help but feel horrified upon seeing another bullet wound lodged into your thigh

he can hold in his cry of agony and heartbreak as your breathing soon becomes labored and your eyes fill with tears

he gives your struggling form a once over before sucking in a sharp breath and dragging you to a nearby hill that was littered with enough rocks and boulders to offer shelter from the incoming storm of bullets

he settles your head onto his lap as he harshly barks out words you can't even begin to understand through the comms

you can barely register the way his hand gives your face a small smack

your eyes connect as he pulls a roll of gauze from his tactical backpack, "come on, kid. don't do this to me. just a bit longer."

even with the searing hot pain that was overruling all your other senses, you can't help but smile

you grab onto his inked forearm and he stops as he looks back at you, eyes wild and frantic

"hey simon?"

"what?"

"thanks for putting up with me."

your eyes begin to flutter open, a small hiss of discomfort escaping your mouth as you cringe at the bright overhead lights

you make a move to bring a hand up in front of your eyes to shield yourself form the harsh fluorescents, but stop your movements when the lights suddenly begin to dim

confused, you begin to look around the room only to see simon standing by a wooden door with his hand on what you assumed to be a light dimmer

he stares at you through the eye holes of his balaclava, "better?"

you offer him a nod paired with a small smile and open your mouth to offer your thanks but stop when he puts the lights back up to their full brightness causing you to let out a groan

you open your mouth once more to vocalize your complaints and throw a half-hearted insult his way, but stop when you hear the heavy footfall of simon's boots making their way over to your hospital bed

he comes to a stop by your bedside as he glares down at you, a swirl of emotions darkening his already hardened gaze

after giving your eyes a few moments to adjust he speaks, "you're the stupidest person i've ever fuckin' met."

your eyes widen as your jaw goes slack, "excuse me?"

he leans down and stops just a few inches short of your face, "i said you're stupid and i'd yank you off the field myself if i could."

you can feel your heart drop at his harsh tone but decide to soldier on, "you're in a good mood today, aren't ya?"

his eyes narrow and a growl of anger and frustration escape the lips hidden by his mask, "don't give me any of that shit, you know what you did."

you sigh, "i'm in a hospital bed, simon. i don't think i could've done any–"

you don't even get to finish your sentence before he's interrupting you, "why'd you do it?"

you stare up at him, confusion and annoyance evident on your face

"simon, what are y–"

he scoffs, "the fucking bullet! you took the fucking bullet! why'd you do that? what made you think that was a bloody good idea? do you have any fucking clue what you put this team – what you put me through?"

oh

right

your expression melts into one of sheepishness as you attempt to get in a word, but stop when simon decides to continue

"i had the situation handled, i could've taken care of myself! i'm smart, i'm capable, and i have years more experience than you do so tell me, i can handle myself! i don't need you steppin' in and throwin' yourself in front of bullets! you coulda fuckin' died!"

"simon–"

he points a finger in your face as he continues on with his rant, "no, you don't get to call me that, not anymore. from here on out, you either address me as ghost or lieutenant, nothing else until you can learn how to handle yourself on the field. we need soldiers, not daredevils. do you understand?"

you exhale, "no."

before he can continue with his angry tangent you sit up with a painful grimace and grab the pillow the pillow your head once rested upon and fling it at him

he narrowly dodges it and stares at you with a mix of rage and pure disbelief with a glare that practically screamed, "what the fuck."

hit block limit again. i'm afraid this may become a habit. anyway.

taking his silence as your cue to speak, you do just that, "okay fine, you're right. i probably shouldn't have tackled you down like that and taken a bullet for you, i probably should've remembered that you're a fully capable man with more experience than me, and i probably should've remembered that the field is no place to be playing favorites. you're right, i should've kept that all in mind but–"

you let out a small sigh as you avert your eyes to the think blanket draped over your body, "when i saw that gun pointed right at you i...i couldn't bring myself to care about any of that. at that moment, all i saw was you in danger and i couldn't have that so i did what i did. you can reprimand and punish me all you want for doing it, but i don't care. i stand by my actions."

simon eyes you for a few moments longer before grabbing onto a chair nearby and settling it beside your bed

you watch as he sits down with a small sigh, his eyes never leaving yours

"why?"

your brows knit together in confusion

"why what?"

"why'd you take a bullet–no, why'd you take two bullets for me? you and everyone else on this team know i could've handled it, so why?"

you frown, "because you're my friend, simon. why else?"

once those words leave your mouth, you're greeted with his blank ghost stare

again, he's just 👁️👁️

and you feel a small wave of concern wash over you

like

this is the same man who was torturing you with the bright fluorescent lights and lecturing you to hell just a few minutes ago and now he's just staring at you

still and silent as ever

you almost ask if he's okay, but stop yourself when he brings his large hand up to the edge of your hospital bed and begins inching it closer to yours before eventually resting it over yours

it's quiet for a few moments longer before he speaks in one of the quietest voices you've ever heard from him, "you took that bullet cause i'm your friend?"

you can't help but soften your own voice as you respond, "my best friend."

upon hearing you say that, simon can just feel the small well of tears that begin building up in his eyes

and as much as he wants to fight them off, he just can't

you, already being able to sense the internal war he's got going on inside his head, simply turn your hand so you can grip onto his and give it a firm squeeze

and by god he hates you for that

because now he can't help but disconnect your hands in favor of surging forward and wrapping his arms around you

you swear you can feel the small rumble of his shoulders as he tries and fails to conceal his quiet sniffles but you decide to overlook it because oh my god simon 'ghost' riley is crying in your arms and it's all your fault

so you decide it's best to just hold onto him as tight as you possibly can

he notices this and he just melts

what did he do to deserve you?

what overpowering force of life felt that he was good enough for the sunshine that is you?

who gave him the honor of being blessed with you?

he's not sure but quite frankly, he doesn't really care

not when you're holding onto him like your life depends on it

not when you pull back from the hug, look into his eyes, and offer him the brightest smile he's ever seen

and certainly not when you grab onto his hands and speak in that sweet honey voice of yours, "i'll always take a bullet for you. i can't lose you, simon."

jesus christ you're going to make his heart burst

he sucks in a small breath and squeezes onto your hands, "i can't lose you either, kid."

you only smile, "you won't, i'm always gonna be here with you."

words that once would've annoyed him to no end now set his cold heart alight

"you fuckin' better."

your smile widens and you lean forward to capture him in yet another hug

with his arms wrapped tightly around your body and you pressed up against him, he can't help but smile

it's definitely nice to have a friend

:)

[freakymcnastys]

“sweet” - izuku midoriya x fem!reader

━━ . ˚₊ ꒱ "it's so sweet, knowing that you love me"

content: regular mha!! no aus or anything :], reader is recovery girl's granddaughter, no use of y/n, i ripped off tangled with the readers quirk (oops)

context: circa s1 or s2 deku hehehe

word count: 1.4k

IZUKU LAY IN THE SMALL BED INSIDE THE OFFICE awaiting recovery girl, whom he had probably seen 3 times already this week. He let out a sigh, looking down at his now purple arm, he had hurt it pretty bad this time. His entire arm was a disgusting shade of indigo; it pained him to look it at. He took another deep breath before he started taking notes on the small nurse's office.

He noticed that Recovery Girl wasn't in the room the moment he walked in, which he found strange. Maybe she had to use the bathroom? Or was called to another more damaging injury somewhere on UA's campus. He found the second idea less plausible, as there were folders neatly planted in the middle of her desk. He smiled to himself as he looked out the window next to the bed he was sitting on, it was nice to have a moment to himself.

As he stared out the window he heard a small knock at the door, he turned his head and saw you, your figure barely hitting the halfway mark on the door. He tilted his head in confusion, you didn't seem to be hurt. "Hello, how are you?" He questioned, his voice delicate as he spoke to you. You shifted your gaze from the floor to his eyes and smiled. "Hello!! I'm doing great, thank you for asking," You shut the door behind you before walking up to Recovery Girl's desk and placing down your clipboard, "How are you Mr...." You looked up at him as you pointed toward the stack of files in front of you, "Oh! Izuku Midoriya." He watched as you pulled a file from the pile and open it. He watched you study the entries and notes on the pages before looking up at him again. "I assume you have a broken arm, Mr. Izuku Midoriya." You stated matter-of-factly, he chuckled and nodded, looking down at his purple arm.

"That looks really bad, how's your pain level?" You questioned, taking a step forward and studying the damage. "7 or 8? Which is typical...I'm in here a lot..." He looked away and you let out a small giggle, "Yeah your file says that. Don't worry tho! I will patch you up." You gave him a sweet smile before taking off your white coat and and laying it over Recovery Girl's chair. "I- I don't mean to sound rude but.....who are you?" You froze for a moment and let out a little laugh, "I'm so embarrassed! I'm Recovery Girl's granddaughter! I'm interning with her this week!" You gave him a smile before reaching toward the back of your head, undoing the bun that was holding your hair. "W-w-wait! You don't heal the same way Recovery Girl does....right?" He said in a nervous tone, you looked over at him and smiled, noticing his red face. "No silly! Here lay up against the headboard, I'll show you!" You said cheerfully, Izuku let out a sigh of relief before quickly crawling under the covers and sitting up against the headboard.

You grabbed the chair by the desk and sat beside the green-haired boy, pulling your hair over your shoulder. "Your hair is so long..." He stated, watching you as you delicately lifted up his hurt arm. He felt your soft and dainty hands slowly wrap your locks of hair around the top of his shoulder to the palm of his hands. While you finished wrapping your hair around his arm you spoke again, "It's easier for me to use my quirk when my hair is longer! I've found my quirk works more effectively when it's longer too," you stated in a sweet tone. He looked up at you and smiled again, a faint hue of pink tinting his cheeks as he watched you giggle and smile while working. "You can close your eyes if you want, some people don't like watching." You said sweetly before taking a deep breath. You started humming a little tune and Izuku could feel the pain wash away through his whole arm. It was like drinking a glass of ice water on a hot day.

He looked at your calm face but he noticed how your arm twitched as you hummed, he was curious. "Is your arm ok?" He questioned genuinely, you stopped humming and looked up at him before looking toward your arm. "Oh! Yeah, I'll be ok..." Izuku tilted his head like a puppy, you smiled again, "When I use for quirk the injury transfers to me. Not really just the pain, my arm won't break so don't get nervous." At that moment, Izuku looked up at you in a panic, nervousness clearly present in his expression. "Wait wait! I don't want to hurt you..!" He said sweetly, you let out a small chuckle, "It's ok Mr. Midoriya, I know the risks of my quirk." You stated calmly before continuing your humming, the pain feeling lighter and lighter on Izuku's side. "Call me Deku and please...don't hurt yourself for me..." He trailed off, rambling about guilt and all these factors that weren't even crossing your mind.

Mid ramble the two of you heard the door to the office open, and you watched Recovery Girl enter the room followed by Mr. Toshinori, whom you had met earlier in the day. You smiled at them and Izuku looked over at Toshinori, a worried expression plastered on his face. "She said her arms gonna break..." He said sadly, tears welling in his eyes, you sighed, "I didn't say that! Nana he doesn't want me to heal him." You said, looking back at Izuku before starting your humming again. "Oh you poor thing!" Recovery Girl stated sarcastically, walking toward the medical cabinet and grabbing some bandages and an arm sling, "Let me grandbaby work on you! She knows what she's doing." Izuku sighed and looked over at Toshinori, who nodded. Everyone sat in silence as you finished humming, Izuku's pain almost completely gone.

When you were finished you unwrapped your hair with the same delicate manner as when you initially wrapped it. You took the supplies from Recovery Girl and began bandaging his arm, he studied you, and your arm, which twitched a little with every movement, but you paid no attention to it. Toshinori looked over at Izuku and spoke, "How are you feeling kid?" he questioned, watching you work diligently as Izuku formed his thoughts. "Good...It doesn't hurt at all really..." Izuku chuckled before turning back to you, "Well kid..." Toshinori started, looking over at you, you paused and smiled at him, "Yes sir?" You said kindly, "I think you got the job." He said with a cheeky smile. You giggled, and Izuku smiled, he didn't realize he was smiling but you did, and that made you smile back. A toothy grin appeared on your face as you clipped Izuku's bandages. When that was done you got him into the sling and then he was done.

"You're all done Deku!" you stated sweetly, looking back at Recovery Girl, she had a proud smile on her face. You got up from the chair, moved it, then offered Izuku a hand as he got up from the bed. Toshinori took his other arm and you led them to the door. The two turned around and you smiled at them before running back toward Recovery Girl's desk, grabbing a small candy from one of the many drawers. You handed it to Izuku as you spoke, "the bones should heal within the next couple of days! Try not the damage them again, or it'll hurt more!" You said with a serious expression, you smiled at Izuku and Toshinori one last time before they started walking out. Izuku looked back at you and smiled brightly "Thank you!!" You laughed and waved goodbye, "You are welcome Mr. Deku!" You said kindly, looking back at your grandma with a giddy smile. "Can I stay another week Nana?"

Once Deku and Toshinori were farther down the hall Izuku looked up at his yellow-haired mentor, "I....I think I wanna break my leg...." Deku said quietly, Toshinori laughed loudly, "I saw the way you looked at her kid, I can tell that you wanna break your bones. But you wouldn't wanna disappoint her, would you?" Toshinori questioned, looking down at Izuku again, whose face was bright red. "No sir!" he said loudly, Toshinori laughed again before saying, "So follow the nurse's orders."

Izuku felt his face heat up at the thought of your smile, and he couldn't wait to visit Recovery Girl's office again.

(i'm such a sucker for cute fics T^T i hope you enjoyed it!! let me know ur thoughts down below!! <33)

- love always, devina

[heartpascal]

something is rotten

▹ — joel miller x niece!reader

▹ — summary: part two of to an empty house — arriving in jackson brings painful feelings, and even worse conversations.

▹ — a/n: UGH!! guys im not all that happy with this one!! ive changed it a couple times too D: but i have left yall hanging long enough!! lemme know if you want anymore about these guys :’) && ty guys sm for all the support ILY!!

▹ — warnings: slight spoilers for episode 6 ‘kin’, swearing, ANGST!!!, a bit of comfort, father figure joel, reader has daddy issues, and abandonment issues, and is generally not struggling in life PLS

▹ — tags: @canpillowscry @randomstory56 @angsty-twihardxx @frogtits1 @exiledangel @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @vee-vee-writes @rhyanna6012 @snixx2088 @mona-aiko @mymommmy (those of you tagged in italics asked for part 2 in the comments of the first part! drop me a message if you want your tag removed!!)

masterlist

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Life in the apocalypse had been non-stop since you had left that hydroelectric power plant, left behind Tommy, and for a while, all thoughts of him. There hadn’t been time to worry about that sort of thing, between almost losing Joel, and then almost losing Ellie, and then finally reaching the hospital that had been your end goal.

In some ways, you were glad. It kept your mind racing, the feeling of constantly being on edge allowing your brain to stay away from silly things, such as your father.

But now, with that whole chapter finally being over, Joel and Ellie were ready to settle down, to live in a home, rather than travelling miles upon miles, never feeling safe. The three of you had been through a lot, and since the… incident with Ellie, her joke book had remained closed.

You knew that Joel had noticed the change in her, just the same as you had. What she had thought to be her purpose, the justification for everybody who had been lost on your journey, their sacrifice, had been for nothing. It was tearing her apart, and it hurt you to watch it happen.

There was no question about your next destination, though you tried to ignore the reality of it for as long as you possibly could, you were fully aware that Jackson was what Ellie needed. Hell, you’d even go as far as to say it was what Joel needed, too. But deep down, you knew that going there was going to tear you to pieces, despite the way you liked to put on a strong front, following in Joel’s footsteps even in that sense.

You didn’t share your concerns, content to continue the journey in silence, pretending not to notice the way Joel and Ellie looked at you the closer you got to the town.

“Hey, you okay?” Ellie murmured to you, the final stop of your journey feeling like something similar to that of impending doom. She nudged your arm with her elbow, smiling in a way that didn’t quite reach her eyes like it used to.

“Mighty fine.” You responded, her dim smile reflected in your own, and you let it fall the moment she nodded at you, despite clearly being unconvinced by your words.

You fell into step beside her and Joel, and felt his hand grasp on to your shoulder as you caught glimpse of Jackson in the not far enough distance. He squeezed your shoulder the slightest bit, and gave you the biggest reassuring smile he could muster, though it didn’t soothe your worries like it used to.

Maybe it was everything the three of you had been through over your journey, or maybe it was the impending arrival at Jackson, but you were starting to notice the world had become much dimmer than you remembered it to be. Joel’s grip less reassuring, Ellie’s smile less genuine, that faint hope in your gut long gone. With a frown, the thought came to you that this was what it meant to grow up.

The lines on Ellie’s face said the same thing, the sigh that had left her chest, made up of pure exhaustion, just told you that her naive nature had vanished. Jokes no longer received the same laughter, and the world no longer held beauty. Growing up felt like hopelessness settling, nuzzling its way in and making itself at home in that space around your heart. The grip it had made it feel like perhaps, it wouldn’t be all too bad if that heartbeat slowed, but you pushed that thought aside for another time.

For now, you’d have to focus on the problem at hand; arriving in Jackson.

It was warmer now than it had been when you’d left the power plant, and it showed in the way that the green lands had brightened, the sun settling and warming the back of your neck. The heat meant less layers, and the three of you had removed your jackets long before arriving in the town.

The lookouts had spotted you all before you’d been anywhere near the gate, so it was no surprise that Tommy was there to greet the three of you when the gates were finally pulled open, allowing you a peek into the home he valued so much.

Walking in, you had already begun your self-appointed mission of ignoring every word Tommy Miller said, but felt yourself almost blown away by the sights around you. For a moment, just a split second, it was nice.

That thought went out the window a second later, catching a glimpse of your so-called father, and you couldn’t help but recall the way you’d sat for endless nights, waiting for that very man, and imagined yourself living a life with him in a town just like this one.

You felt sick.

That little kid deserved better, you decided. You were worthy of living this kind of life, of getting to sleep in a warm house, of not having to worry about if Joel and Tess would get enough ration cards to feed the three of you, of getting horse riding lessons! The facts of the situation stared you in the face, getting clearer the longer you looked around. Your own father denied you of this life.

With building anger, the feeling white-hot, burning, you turned to Joel where he was speaking with his brother. “Where are we staying?”

Tommy looked between you and Joel, swallowing when Joel just raised a brow at him, and spoke, “Uh, little place just a couple blocks over. 38, I think. Rancher Street, I’ll take you guys over—”

“I’ll make my own way.” You snapped, before he could even finish his sentence. If you had to look at him for even a second longer, you were sure that the overflowing anger and resentment would explode, and you weren’t convinced anyone would be able to pick up the pieces that would be left behind.

You stormed down the street before he could say another word to you, turning down the first alley you saw and standing still in the street on the other side, letting out a harsh breath.

You couldn’t be sure how long you’d stood there for, trying to turn down the simmering emotions inside of you, but it was clearly long enough for somebody to notice. “You good there?” A young girl asked, and you turned to her, brows furrowed.

“‘M fine.” You responded gruffly, and even you could hear the way your speech reflected Joel’s own. The thought calmed you, almost, reminding you of who your real dad was.

She stepped closer, clearly not taking a hint, “You sure? New in town? You look lost.”

“Yes, yes, and I’m not lost.” You said to her, though you didn’t exactly know where you were. She just raised her eyebrows at you, and you huffed, “Lookin’ for a Rancher Street.”

The girl nodded, something between a smirk and a smile on her face, and pointed forward, “First left twice, then a right. Should get you there just fine.”

“Thanks.” You said, immediately heading off in the direction she’d guided you in. You kept your head down, brows furrowed, and tried to keep your attention away from the world around you. It was clear that it’d just make you more angry.

You counted along with the house numbers as you passed by, Rancher Street wasn’t that densely populated, if the look of the houses were anything to go by. There was quite a few that looked run down, number 38 included, once you arrived. You went inside, the door already unlocked, and sneezed when you inhaled all the dust that clouded the air. This place must’ve been barely touched throughout the last twenty years.

Grabbing a book left on the coffee table, you pulled it open, and sat on the edge of an old sofa, sighed through your nose when even more dust floated up from it.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

“You’ll go, because it’s the polite thing to do.” Joel told you firmly, sighing heavily as he looked over at you with his arms crossed.

“You think I give a shit about being polite?” You asked him, mirroring his stance by crossing your own arms. He rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he clearly brainstormed a way to get around your stubbornness.

“Just this one time,” He told you, saying your name pleadingly, “Then you’ll never have to go ‘round there again.”

That peaked your interest, and you uncrossed your arms, “Really? You promise?”

“Swear.” Joel replied, and sighed something near to relief, finally calling Ellie’s name. The stairs creaked, and she appeared less than a second later.

“You coming?” She asked, thought she had obviously been sat on the stairs, listening to yours and Joel’s… conversation, the whole time.

“Yeah,” You sighed unhappily, “I’m coming.”

The three of you made your way across town, with Joel checking a scrap piece of paper that you could only assume held directions. Lights had flickered on by now, the darkness of the evening being offset by the yellow lamps that poured light over the street. It was weird, you thought, being able to see so clearly in the darkness.

Joel knocked at the wooden door when you arrived, looking back at you where you stood, just off the porch with Ellie, like he thought you might run away if he didn’t keep his eyes on you.

Though the thought had occurred to you, you wouldn’t do it, not if it meant that Joel’s promise would be vacant. Just this once, he had sworn.

The front door opened as Ellie knocked your arm with her elbow, giving you a slight reassuring smile. You appreciated the effort, but the reassurance fell flat. There was something about this situation that you just couldn’t put into words, but it hurt. Her arm wrapped through your own as Joel followed Tommy inside, and she led you in after them, closing the door behind you.

Immediately, you were tense. Your heart felt as if it was beating in your throat, like it was going to stop if you took another step. You tried not to look around, keeping your eyes on your battered old shoes as you let Ellie continue leading you through the house.

Her abrupt stop had you stumbling into her, and lifting your head with furrowed brows. You glanced to where she was looking, seeing the names Kevin and Sarah written in a scrawl on a chalkboard in what you guessed would be a living room. You frowned, and gripped Ellie’s arm tighter, breaking her from her stare at the board.

You pretended not to notice the homely feel to the house, the warmth of it making your palms sweat. If you allowed your mind to wonder too far, you’d be reminded of how you had dreamed of living a life like this as a kid, dreamed of a house just like this one, shared with your father. You would be reminded of how he chose to have this, chose to have it without you.

Good job you keep your mind on a tight leash, you supposed, gritting your teeth and blinking away the angry tears that wanted to rise and fall from your eyes.

You breathed in deeply through your nose, looking up as Ellie began to loosen her grip on your arm, having arrived at the dining room. The concept had always been strange to you, having lived in a shitty apartment for basically all your life, and having a whole room just for eating seemed like a waste of valuable space.

Ellie took a seat, and you quickly followed in her example as Joel stood talking to Tommy by the doorway, engaged in conversation like they were as close as they had been two decades ago.

“You got this.” Ellie said, her hand on squeezing your arm as she looked towards where you were wringing your fingers together, your stomach feeling as though you’d left it back by the porch. You nodded at her, swallowing and smiling tightly.

You stayed quiet as Tommy finished setting the table, before he was moving back and forth between the dining room and kitchen, bringing various plates and a few sauces with each trip. Finally, he sat down at the head of the table beside Ellie, and you kept your gaze away from him.

“Sorry I couldn’t be there to greet you guys when you got in,” Maria called, finally approaching from the kitchen, and you were keeping your gaze on your hands until Ellie frantically began tapping your, her expression saying something you’d couldn’t quite understand, something close to pity in her eyes. “Kinda hard to get around so quick, these days.” Maria laughed, placed a big plate down on the table before standing back up, her hands on her back and—

If you had eaten any food, you were sure you would’ve thrown it all back up.

There, standing in front of you, was your father’s wife — pregnant.

It felt like a million different feelings were running through your head, faster than you could catch up, all your thoughts were racing, clashing together and leaving only one that was literate: What the fuck?

Maria sat down beside Joel, at Tommy’s side, and you could see in Joel’s eyes that he hadn’t expected this, could see the pity building in his eyes just as you’d seen in Ellie’s, and it was all far too much.

“I can’t do this.” You announced, slamming your hands on the table and feeling some satisfaction in the way the cutlery clattered together. You pushed your chair back, standing up, and saw your father open his mouth to speak.

He said your name, and you snapped.

“Don’t talk to me! What the fuck is wrong with you?” You cried out, staring daggers at the man who was supposed to be your dad. The angry tears that you had managed to push away earlier came rushing back, one already falling down your cheek. You wiped it away angrily.

“Kid, just listen—”

You seethed, “Kid? Do I look like a fucking kid to you? You missed out on that, Tommy. You have no idea—” Your voice broke for a moment, as you thought of all the things that had happened to you since your father had been around. “I don’t have to listen to you. You’re not my dad, remember? You left your daughter, years ago. You have no idea what we’ve been through.”

Ellie was stood beside you, her hand on your shoulder, though when she had got there, you had no idea. The edges of your vision were red, and you could feel the way your throat was tightening.

“I’m sorry,” He started, your name leaving his lips once again, and Ellie held firmly against you as you leant towards him, your blood warming in your veins as your heartbeat echoed in your ears.

“I don’t think sorry cuts it.” You laughed, humourlessly. “I don’t think anything does, actually. I will never forgive you. You hear me? You listening? Never.”

You turned away, Ellie’s hand falling away, and you even avoided Joel as he stood up and tried to reach out for you. You couldn’t face them, not like this, not when it felt like your father had taken a chisel to your heart, and left you with only splintered ribs. You were choking on the emptiness of it, the reality of your life and what it meant to the man who had helped create it.

You were more certain now than ever that he had never cared for you, that he had left because of you, not just despite you.

It was horrible, and it was something you had always suspected. A part of you wished that he had died alongside the Fireflies, because at least then he wouldn’t have had a choice in staying away, right? But no, he was alive and well, thriving in the home he’d made without you, while you worried back at the QZ that barely provided you with enough food to get by.

You were storming away, and had reached the house you'd been allocated before you even really noticed that you had left. The blood in your veins had reached a boil by now, and you could feel the steaming in your lungs, in the way it suffocated you and made every breath burn against your throat.

The backpack in your hands was still filled with everything you owned, seeing as you hadn’t bothered to unpack into somebody else’s bedroom, though it had been theirs a lifetime ago. It didn’t help the deepening rage within you, the despair that was tilting your entire world on its axis. Everything in your life was in this bag, probably weighing less than the plate of food Maria had brought out.

Meanwhile, your father had a whole house full of shit that belonged to him. You scoffed, feeling that burning sensation crawling up your chest, so close to hatred, but something far more raw, more painful.

Your feet took you back out to Rancher Street, legs moving before your mind was fully caught up. You met the rest of the Miller’s halfway through your trek, with them on their way to Joel’s new house, whilst you were trying to make your way to the gate, prepared to leave, rather than get left behind.

Joel called your name, his expression displaying the panic that was crushing his chest. He had been a builder, before. He had fixed things — it was what he did, what he liked to do. But this was something he didn’t know how to fix, something that may have just been broken beyond repair… he wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“Joel, don’t,” You told him, voice trembling as you spoke, stopping in front of the man who had looked after you for your whole life. “Please don’t. Nothin’ that anyone says could make me not hate him. Not even you.”

Joel swallowed, glancing back to his brother behind him, where he stood with his wife, before glancing to Ellie at his own side.

“I—I didn’t mean for this,” Tommy said, arms up by his head as if he was surrendering, but you knew he was just trying to make himself feel better. “I swear!”

“I don’t care,” You cried, feeling your frustration build that none of these people had the ability to understand you, to understand how it felt for your own father to look at you and leave you behind. They couldn’t get how crushing this was, that he was starting over. “Go ahead, start over with your wife. First time ‘round didn’t work, but second time, surely!”

He flinched at your words, as if they had hurt him, but your expression hardened. He had no idea what true hurt was — how could he?

“I know I wasn’t the greatest dad—”

“You have never been my dad. Joel is my dad. He’s looked after me my whole life while you were out lookin’ for something, who knows what, because I don’t believe you ever found it.” You spat at him, feeling Ellie approach your side, hold on to your wrist as your hands clenched into fists.

Joel’s face fell, the reality of your feelings towards your father were crushing, but he could see why you’d feel that way. He’d agree with you, too, if anybody deserved the title of your dad, it’d be himself, not his brother. He remembered a few times when you’d used the name for him, though you had been sick or exhausted down to your very bones both times, and he had figured that in your muddled mind, you’d gotten him confused with Tommy. That was the reason he had never corrected it, not wanting to squash whatever little amount of hope and love you had for his brother. He’d had no idea that the truth was that you saw him, not his brother, and your mind had made that connection.

He felt like he could cry when you turned to him, that glassy look in your eyes, and he saw the pieces of you that his own brother had broken. “I want to leave.” You told him, lip trembling as you said the words.

Joel didn’t know what to reply with — the two of you had nowhere to go, and Ellie didn’t, either. This place was your best option, your only option, really. He shook his head, mouth slightly agape as he tried to think of something to say, something that could convince you.

Ellie said your name, and you drew your gaze to her, where she looked guilty, far guiltier than you had ever seen her. “I want to stay.” She told you, her eyes darting away from you as if she was confessing some awful sin to you.

“I know,” You said, letting her hand slip from your wrist to your own hand, and squeeze tightly. “But I…”

Your gaze moved to Tommy and Maria, and your expression hardened, features turning to stone when you looked at the two of them. “I’ll stay. For now. And I’m still a Miller, but— but if anybody asks, I’m Joel’s daughter.”

Joel nodded, smiling thinly at you, tears welled up in his own eyes, and you nodded back to him.

“O—Okay.” Tommy said, swallowing, but you shushed him before he could continue.

“As for you, I don’t wanna see you. Let’s keep it the way you decided we should be.“ Your voice trembled, but you remained firm on your words. “I don’t wanna see your face, or hear your voice. I don’t want to know you. Joel can do what he likes, but you stay far away from me, you got it? The only kid you have is that one.” You finished, gesturing toward where Maria held a hand over her stomach.

Tommy looked as if he was going to disagree, but people had begun peeking through the windows of the houses on either side of the street, and when Joel stepped beside you, arm immediately going around your shoulders, he knew he had no choice.

“Hope you’re a better father to that kid than you were to me.” You hissed at him, seeing the way his face crumpled and finding satisfaction in it.

The small part of you, the darkest part, hoped every one of your words hurt him. Hoped that he lived the rest of his life knowing that he fucked up, that he ruined you, and that when you built yourself back up, he’d never get the chance to know you.

Joel took the backpack from your shoulder, pulling it over his own, and turned you away from the father you had disowned. The three of you walked away, not looking back to see the way Maria had to herd him away as he stared at you, something close to grief in his eyes.

When you arrived back at 38 Rancher Street, Ellie held your hand tightly while Joel opened the front door, dropping your backpack by the stairs as he moved towards the dust filled living room. The two of you followed him, and he turned around to see you squeezing Ellie’s hand, your lips trembling and your face crumpled as you looked up at him.

“Did I make a mistake? Did I ruin everything?” You asked him, trying so hard to keep yourself together, to tape all the little pieces of yourself into something that resembled okay, but it wasn't working.

“God, no, kid.” Joel said, and he was in front of you and Ellie before you could get another word in, pulling the two of you into his arms and breathing out a tired exhale. “I’m proud of you, proud of you both.” He told you, and your whole facade collapsed beneath you, leaving you sobbing into his arms, wondering where everything had gone wrong, wondering what that little kid would’ve said if she had heard your words tonight.

“We’re gonna be alright.” Joel told the two of you, feeling Ellie squeeze her arms tighter around him, until she let go, pointing upwards to let him know where she was heading. He nodded at her, an understanding expression on his face, and tightened both his arms around you.

“You swear?” You checked, unable to help yourself, and let yourself breathe a shaky sigh into his neck when he responded.

“Swear.”

[dollwritesarchive]

𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 — 𝐦𝐚𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐨

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ this is a dark fic! smut ( minors dni ), fem!nanami’s apprentice!reader, virgin!reader, noncon, anal, body morphing ( tentacles, two dicks + some inflation too ), double anal penetration, size kink, mindbreak, bad end, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ commissioned by @beebiesworld!! do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

“Well, you gave up earlier than I anticipated,” the Curse circled you, eyeing your frame up and down like a hungry animal, a wicked grin pulling his features taut, “Such a shame. I was enjoying chasing you around, the smell of your sweat was so sweet, and you seemed so frightened. Instead of fighting me, you tried to run away; are you sure you’re really a Jujutsu Sorcerer?”

there was a faint sound, the clanging of your daggers hitting the concrete ground at your feet, but it sounded so far away. what was really loud, however, was the beating of your heart. it thumped against your eardrums, it drowned out your panting.

how?

how had he caught up with you so fast?

you hold your hands up above your head in defeat, sheepish at just how he stared at your trembling fingers. you didn’t want him to notice them, but they would’ve been impossible to overlook. “I’m… still in training…”

he gasps with an excited grin and draws closer from behind, until the very shape of his lips forming the words against your ear shifts a tendril out of place, “I see, and does your mentor know you’re here?” you want to cower away from the softness of his voice— it was taunting and cruel, but it sounded so sweet.

you shake your head instead of answering him out loud, the lump growing in your throat making it hard to speak. to say that Nanami Kento didn’t know his pupil had wanted to impress him so badly that she skirted his rules and pursued a curse much too powerful and now she was utterly fucked with no way to call for help was too damning for your lips to bring the words to them.

“No?” both hands snake around to grasp at your arms in the air, and keep them there. your muscles all go taut; your blood freezing in your veins. you remembered what Nanami had said about this curse, and his ability to manipulate the body. would he destroy you this way? you close your eyes tight, and await an excruciating death. “He must be worried about you,” the curse croons against the shell of your ear, before puckering to plant a saccharine kiss on your lobe, his body pressing against yours from behind. “That 7:3 Sorcerer.” the way he spat it, like he was drooling acid into your ear, you knew he meant Nanami. he must still be miffed that your mentor had managed to escape him by pulling a cheap shot. lithe, dangerous digits that were cold to the touch drag along your forearms at a slow pace, and he chuckles. it sends a shiver up your spine. “You must know all about me, then. And our little game we played.”

swallowing hard against the lump blocking your throat, you nod, gathering the courage to speak, even as your voice trembled. “I know… I know how you disfigure innocent people. How you torture them… just by touching them…”

“Does that scare you?” he tilts his head, resting his chin against the crook of your neck, and his hands careen around your shoulders, towards your collarbone, “Knowing that I could pull you apart and put you together again, all wrong. I could disfigure you by force, and it would be so painful your mind just might shatter from the trauma—“ though he was threatening to mutilate you, his voice was lighthearted; playful, even. a new level of malicious that you’d never known before. you knew that he could feel the ferocity of your heartbeat, because his digit tips drummed over your chest in the same, frantic rhythm before they tug at your neckline, gentle and teasing, exposing the tops of your heaving breasts. “If I wanted to.” he pokes out his lower lip in a pensive pout, “But then I wouldn’t get to hear you scream, if I turned your brain to soup right away. I shouldn’t transfigure you, should I? I should keep you together, at least long enough to have my fun…”

don’t be a coward. you wanted to tell yourself this over and over, but it was so much easier said than done. he was considering how to torture you as easily as one might consider their options for dinner. “Why are you toying with me?” your hands clench into fists, falling down at your sides once your arms started to ache, “Stop talking about it, already… if you’re going to kill me, just… do it.”

“Kill?” he sounded genuinely puzzled, and that worried you. “Did I ever say kill? I don’t want to kill you, little sorcerer.” you can feel him moving, even as he’s pressed against you, his feet slipping in between yours, kicking them apart until your legs are spread wide, and something— no, two somethings inching up under your pant legs. they felt like twin serpents, forcing their way through the threading until your bottoms were hanging in tatters against your exposed legs. “I want to ruin you.”

your eyes widen, and your gaze drops to your legs— those tentacles were the same shade of ivory that he was, and they were wrapping themselves around the hem of your panties, like fists ready to jerk them down.

you react, but not fast enough. trying to launch yourself forward, both hands flail to shove at the curse, but he’s coiled two more of those strong, thick cords around your torso, cinching your arms in their constriction. the vice knocks the breath out of you, and you would’ve fallen forward had his many extremities not tangled you up— the very tips of them form fingers, one by one, morphing into stitched hands identical to his original ones, and pull at your clothes, jerking your panties halfway down your thighs. as soon as your sex is met with the cold, damp air of the underground, he inhales deep; smelling you. “Ahhh,” he moans, and the tentacles coiled around your midriff begin to pry at your top, pulling it down, “I can’t wait to destroy you!”

your legs tremor, fighting against the inhuman strength of his organic bondage to try and close, to minimize your exploit, but you’re no match for him, not wrapped up like this. you kick your feet, and scream to be let go. but he giggles, watching you fight for your life, and lose. all the while, those many hands of his grope at you, squeezing and kneading your breasts, long fingers running laps between your folds, coaxing your sex to weep, unwillingly.

“Stop—!” you cry out, writhing hopelessly,

“Why? It seems like you like it, your little cunt is wet!”

but you couldn’t bite back the hapless whining that left your lips fast enough, surprised by the stinging sensation when a middle finger and thumb flick at your sensitive clit. “So swollen already,” he laughs, twisting you around to face him. you see now, as you’re hoisted off the ground, that those tentacles ripped his shirt so severely that it’d slipped from his body completely, leaving his rippled torso bare. he was incredibly muscular, and you hadn’t noticed until now, with his silvery tresses hanging over one shoulder, tickling his navel. the feelers winding up and down your legs spread them further into a wide split, opening you up completely, and you wince. you’d trained plenty, physical feats, but you’d never had your muscles forced this tight. “You must be a virgin, you’re so sensitive.” he hums as he steps closer, his clothed groin pressing flush against your most sensitive portion. you can feel a thick tent, hard and pulsating, just beyond the fabric, attempting to push through and get to your sex, and you mewl, shaking your head, mostly to yourself. “I almost can’t believe that 7:3 Sorcerer didn’t fuck you himself, what with how cute this pussy looks when she’s wet. He hasn’t even seen it, has he? I wonder if he wants to?”

both of his hands reach down, pressing his thumbs against your netherlips, and spreads them apart to expose your maiden entrance, his dual-hued gaze sparkling with wicked delight when you whimper a pathetic, ‘No…’ and shut your eyes tight. it wasn’t an answer to his question ( which seemed to be more of a musing than a true inquiry ), but a protest to his touch. you didn’t have to say out loud that Nanami didn’t see you in that light; he was your teacher. you looked up to him, you saw him as a second father. he wouldn’t think like that. not like this monster.

would he?

you feel pressure, unlike svelte fingers, prodding at your sex. your eyelids snap open and you stare down the sea of slithering tentacles in horror. his hands hadn’t moved, your folds still pulled back, but Mahito has rid himself of his pants and, thus, freed a thick, hard cock from its prison. with just a subtle jut of his hips, he’s able to press the bulbous head against your hole. you clench in response, trying to close completely, but his teasing is just powerful enough to stretch you back open. “Hhhnnnn,” Mahito moans, his tongue darting out to swipe along his lips, “Keep clenching, keep trying to keep me out— it makes me want to hurt you.” one of the hands growing from his many appendages reaches up to caress your cheek, which you promptly turn away from. “You’ll only scream louder when I stuff you full of three, big cocks and make that cute, little hole gape for me.”

three.

you tried not to think about that, but there was no denying the creature before you was demonic enough to conjure and do just what he threatened.

“Nanami… he’ll… come to save me…” you insist, squirming. it was a pathetic attempt to instill fear into the curse— try to scare him with what your mentor might do to him if he follows through with his demented plan.

“I hope so!” Mahito chimes, “I hope he’s on his way right now.” with one hand grasping himself at his base, he drags the engorged tip of his cock between your lips, purposefully bumping your vulnerable clit, and watches you bite your cheek to stifle a breathy sound. “He knows where to find us, and you’ll be broken in long before he makes it here, it’ll be so fun to watch him realize just how helpless I’ve made you. Now, I’ve got a tough decision to make,” thoughtful, Mahito tilts his head to one side, and then the other. you open your eyes, reluctantly, and stare down at his cock, rubbing between your folds. he catches you staring and smiles wickedly, wide, “This tight, little pussy… or…” one more swipe, and this time, his tip pressed against your hole and you braced yourself— were about to be invaded for the first time.

for only a fraction of a second.

before he pushes down on his base, sliding his tool just below your sex; it was slick and shiny with your arousal. the thick head sits flush against your anus, and you haven’t the time to protest, though you suck in a flustered breath to do so, before he plunges inside.

a jolt of pain wracks you, and you cry out, voice breaking, when he forces his way into your canal. he was merciless, instantaneous in falling into a brutal, deep rhythm. you were wincing, one eye closed right whilst the other glared daggers up at him, snorting heavy breaths through your nostrils. sealing your tiers muffled painful whimpers, but your toes still curled, your fists still tightened, in protest.

Mahito swoons, seeing how much you hate having him in your guts, and it only spurs him to fuck you harder— deeper. “Yes! That greedy, wet cunt of yours can wait; it’s much more fun stretching you out this way instead,” he’s purring, lids weighing heavily on his duo-toned eyes, “you look so cute, right now, in so much pain. My cock’s just too big for that virgin asshole of yours, isn’t it?” you nod. you knew he wouldn’t care. hell, maybe he would even find amusement in it and fuck you harder just to inflict more pain, but you answer anyways.

helpless.

pathetic.

both hands clasp against your waist, digging his thumbs against your belly to jerk you back to him each time your body lurched from the power of his thrusts. the intensity, the incessant force behind his cock barreling into your insides was all but maddening. he was right. he was too big for you, he was too rough for you. your body was struggling to keep up with all of the sensation and it overloaded your system. that must’ve been the reason you clenched around air, the reason you felt your stomach bunch up in pleasured knots. right?

you could hear the sound— your sex was dripping down over your ass cheeks, and each time the curse drove himself home, his balls smacked against them, sticking just enough to emit a sickening slap. over and over.

Mahito was panting, but you could tell he wasn’t winded because his velocity never even faltered. he pounded you relentlessly, and squeezed your waist so furious that you could swear he was about to fold you in half at the midriff, his thumbs digging into the squishy flesh. “Still a little vice,” he whined, mostly to himself, “I wanted to get another cock in you, but no matter how hard I drill you to stretch this fuckhole out enough, you still grip like crazy. Heh, let’s see if we can fix that, eh?”

“N—no—!” shaking your head, as fervent as you could muster having been fucked halfway into submission, you mewl out in protest. another cock? your stomach flipped. your body couldn’t even handle this one; surely you would split open if forced to take any more. your opposition fell on utterly deaf ears, because it wasn’t even a full moment later that you felt yourself stretch. “S—stop!” clawing at your own fists, you thrash in the tentacles’ grip; at first, it felt like he was prying you open, your battered ring yielding helplessly to the extraction, but then you could feel it on the inside. your walls were stretching. desperate to accommodate the slow-growing bulge you could see peeking against your belly button. he was inflating himself whilst balls deep in your belly, giving you no choice but to extend around him.

“There we go,” Mahito let out a breathy sigh, but never once let slowed the pistoning of his hips. he was determined to hollow you out completely, “open up, cutie. If you don’t, I might just fuck a hole right through you.”

you’d never felt so full before, and you couldn’t imagine anyone had. your body was stretched, your stomach distended in an unnatural bulge that moved, back and forth, with each merciless hip snap. you could feel every inch, thicker than humanly possible, as they pummeled your rectum. you couldn’t enjoy this. not this pain, not this cruelty.

but your pussy was still wet.

was it the never ending fucking, the constant stabbing at every, intimate nerve inside that was numbing your mind? or had you always been destined to enjoy such depravity?

no, it had to be him.

Mahito was fucking the urge to resist right out of you. with each buck of his hips, each time his balls smashed against you, you were losing a part of your brain. the will to fight back had all but dissipated. as did your hatred of the pain he inflicted.

“N— Naa—nami—“ repeating his name under your breath was the only thing keeping your brain from melting away. forcing yourself to remember that your mentor would come for you. he would save you. if you simply held on to your sanity. “H—help— me—“

“Hmm?” Mahito crooned, his tempo changing drastically for once. he was still incredibly deep, but his thrusts were torturous and slow, coaxing weakened whimpers from your lips each time he pressed his abdomen to yours, as flush to you, as deep in your ass that he could go. “You still remember that 7:3 Sorcerer’s name? Even after I’ve stuffed you to your limit?” he didn’t sound at all disappointed. he sounded… impressed. “Fine, I’ll just have to fuck you until your brain turns to mush.” grinning ear to ear, Mahito releases your stomach, leaving one hand tight on your waist, but the other flees to his groin, gripping the base of a brand new cock growing out from his pelvis. perfectly planted just above his original member, this new appendage is already throbbing and erect when it sprouts, drizzling precum over its twin and your abused hole. “You won’t even remember your own name when I shove this one inside of you. Watch!”

he was so fucking right.

your ring protested taking another, girthy intruder, but he was too strong and, in the end, your body had to give in. worming its way inside, the new cock rubs against the other, coaxing a vulgar moan from your assailant, but you didn’t hear it. this new, impossible feeling had hit a switch in your brain. both dicks bulged in your belly, pressing hard against the sensitive wall protecting your g-spot, scrubbing rough, pulsating veins against the nerves. the two sexes were roughly the same length, jabbing deep in your belly, and when he pulled back, and both withdrew before slamming home, you saw stars behind your eyelids as your head dropped back and you yowled.

Mahito must’ve had an amazing memory, because that very same fierce speed and depth returned to his rocking hips in no time, even as you hang— limp and suspended by those extremities. your mouth was agape, so your moans flowed free, but you couldn’t form any real words. you couldn’t cry for help anymore. your eyes rolled around behind twitching lids.

you didn’t remember Nanami’s name.

you didn’t remember your own.

and you couldn’t care. you couldn’t think.

his cocks seemed to be working in tandem, reaching every sensitive cluster of nerves that you had and punching them over and over, an orchestrated attack to shatter your mind. and it was working.

you felt utterly claimed, decimated. his cocks had invaded you, dominated you, broken you. and deep down you knew that, even if someone did rescue your beaten body from this devil before he crumbled it, your brain was long beyond salvation.

“Poor thing,” Mahito moaned, using his now free hand to press down against the dueling protrusions in your belly, but you only squealed louder when he did so, “you’ll never be the same after this, you know? You’ll never recover from me, and we’re not even close to being finished. This is only your ass, cutie, I’ve still got to conquer that little cunt of yours. I wonder if you’ll even hang on long enough for that, or if your body will simply give out.” but, it didn’t matter to him, not really. you knew that he wouldn’t care if you were mangled beyond repair; he’d said himself, he wanted to break you. “No,” he said, finally, within a whiny, ecstasy filled moan, and grasped your face. squeezing your cheeks together hard, he forced your chin into your chest, and kept your visage angled towards him. he didn’t care if you couldn’t see through your glassy eyes, or that you were drooling all over yourself, he cooed at the sight of your loss against him, “I’ll make sure you stay with me, at least long enough to be the prettiest, sloppiest bait for that 7:3 Sorcerer.”

he could hear you.

Nanami could hear you, panting, crying, but as he called your name, he got no response. he repeated it over and over, stampeding the corridors, following the helpless sounds of his pupil. please be okay. he didn’t say it out loud, and he didn’t have to. he was the only one there to hear it.

should he have asked for back up? of course. but, Nanami couldn’t wait for anyone else to come to the rescue, and he had a gnawing fear in his gut that he was already too late.

if Mahito had already gotten to you, then he was getting closer and closer to discovering that you had been transfigured, and he would have to put you out of your misery, and he wasn’t even sure he could do that.

his heart was racing, but as he turned the corner, he saw a crumpled figure on the ground just a short sprint away— it was you, he could tell, but he couldn’t make out much more. he barked your name, hoping to grasp your attention as he approached, but when the visage of you finally cleared, his blood ran icy in his veins.

you were on your knees, completely nude, and yet you were slumped forward with your face against the ground, cheek smushed and distorting your expression, forcing one eye closed. the other was half opened— you looked drowsy. but your thighs quivered. his gaze was immediately drawn to them, and he drew in a harsh breath.

one of your hands worked diligently between your hips, your middle two fingers thrusting deep inside of yourself. with each probe, sticky white dribbles out of your cunt and over your hand and wrist. it’s the same as the substance that oozes from your butthole as it spasms. it must’ve also matched the cocktail of cum and spit smeared across your features, and splattered on your ass cheeks and thighs. you were a complete mess, and you didn’t even seem to care.

you hardly even noticed Nanami when he approached you, still fingering yourself, gurgling moaning, your eyelids flittering. “What…” Nanami’s brows knit together, his teeth grind. “What happened to you?“ he asked, but he was already relatively certain that you wouldn’t be able to answer him. mortified, he steps closer, kneeling down with his arms extended, sleeves rolled up and ready to scoop you into his arms. “I’m going to get you out of here—“

“C—cock—“ you whimper, tongue hanging out of your mouth, and Nanami freezes. “P—please… give me… cock… fuck me… use me… h—hurt me… fff— fuck me, p—please…” sharp eyes widening ever so slightly behind his spectacles, he sews his jaw shut right when he hears that damned familiar giggling from behind him.

Mahito had appeared there, clasping his hands together with glee. “I hope you won’t be too mad at me, but I borrowed your little toy here.” he exclaims, gesturing towards the mess of what’s left of you.

when you hear his voice, you shake harder, fucking yourself more fervently with both fingers, and whimpering, “Please… please… fuck me… fuck me… fuck…”

“The only problem is,” Mahito smirks, a devious twinkle in his eye when Nanami turns around, “I think I broke her.”

[talesofesther]

sweet calamity | ch 1

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Series Summary: It was something people described as the sweetest pain, the feeling of when the soul that's destined to find yours is closer to you. Wednesday saw it as a curse, promised herself she would hate whoever was chosen for her; but it's easier said than done.

A/N: And so the soulmate au begins (I'm a sucker for those and we all know it), anyways, I know this first part is small, but think of it as a prologue of sorts. I also can't promise that updates are gonna be super fast, because I'm kinda figuring things out as I go :') so please, let me know what you think, and especially let me know if there's anything in particular that you'd like to see happening in this series.

Masterlist

There were bumps in the road; small holes and cracks on the tree-surrounded path that lead to Nevermore. It became a familiar one, given the number of times Wednesday has already passed through it.

Today was the first day of the new semester, the return of boring normalcy after Crackstone's defeat.

Wednesday's dark eyes looked out the window, counting the trees as they went by, shadowed by the cloudy day. Her thumb was pressing over the inside of her right wrist, sometimes scratching the skin there in disdain for the faint birthmark she was cursed with.

Many people — most of them — saw the existence of soulmates as something good, the world's compensation for its cruelty with humanity; they see it as a reason to look forward to the next day, a reason to believe in a happier future.

Wednesday had a clearer vision. She knew, from the moment her parents broke the news to her that there was someone out there who had a soul that complemented hers perfectly, that it was just another devious move of this universe. A trojan horse that presented itself as salvation only to torture you — for some people to the point of insanity. Because the world doesn't give you anything on a silver platter and this was no different.

The thing about soulmates, is that each one of the pair is born with an identical mark on their skin; a mark that aches the closer you get to your soulmate, resembling the burn of a lighter on a bare finger. However, once you touch the other person for the first time, that ache is gone, never to happen again.

You could be on a train, walking a busy street, or watching a concert in the middle of a raging crowd and simply bump into the one who bears the other half of you; only to never cross paths with each other again.

So really, if anything, Wednesday respected the boldness of the universe, to come up with something so enticing, so desirable yet so out of reach.

She heard stories of people who felt the burning ache, ever present as they chased it more and more, and then suddenly… nothingness. The realization slowly sinking in as they looked frantically from one side to another and watched the people walk by, along with their chance at a happy ending.

Over time, the number of people who found their soulmate started slowly decreasing. If you did, you could be considered one of the lucky ones.

Wednesday considered herself lucky that she hasn't ever felt what others described as the sweetest pain.

The Addams girl stepped out of her car, backpack in one hand and a small suitcase in the other as Lurch unloaded the rest of her belongings. Nevermore stood in front of her in all its glory; the grey stone walls high and partly covered by climbing plants as the trees around it changed their leaves to vivid yellows and oranges.

Many students were arriving and walking through the gates, chatting animatedly and making Wednesday scrunch her nose at the unsettling noise. She spared her peers no glances, unwilling to indulge them in pleasantries and gossip about the time spent away.

It was strange how some of them still glanced at Wednesday from the corner of their eyes, whispering in each other's ears as she walked right past them, as if she wouldn't notice. She sometimes caught on to some of the words;

She's that girl who killed the evil pilgrim. That's Wednesday Addams, she saved the school last year.

The attention was not something Wednesday enjoyed, it only gave people more opportunities to disturb her peace.

As she walked through the main doors of the entrance hall, she heard it; excited steps approaching without abandon until her body was engulfed in a sea of blonde and pink.

"Enid," Wednesday said her name as a warning, though if you squint, you could say she half returned the hug.

The werewolf pulled back with a smile that Wednesday could only describe as bruising. "Hi roomie," Enid greeted, her joy dripping from her words, "it's been so long I even started missing your gloominess."

"It's barely been six months, Enid." Wednesday raised a pointed eyebrow, her features impassive as she held her roommate's gaze — until she relented; "but I did notice the absence of your obnoxious music and incessant texting."

It got Enid grinning, and with a skip on her step, she followed suit by Wednesday's side as they both walked up the stairs that led to the quad, "felt like six years to me, I didn't think I would but I actually missed school, staying home with my brothers could be considered torture."

"You can always torture them back, the possibilities are endless," Wednesday suggested.

Most students were gathering on the quad in order to hear principal Weems' speech for the beginning of the semester, including the newcomers. All tables were already filled with outcasts, some of them even sat on the ground due to the lack of space.

Wednesday huffed as she looked around, annoyed with the commotion she was forced upon; she spotted Xavier, sitting against a stone pillar with his head buried in his sketchbook; Bianca, who sat cross-legged on top of one of the tables, chatting with the other sirens; and Eugene, who was slowly walking on the opposite side of the quad, he gestured animatedly as he talked with a girl Wednesday had never seen here before, most likely giving her the Nevermore welcoming tour.

"There are even more people than before," Wednesday commented.

"I heard that a few new students transferred this year," Enid spoke after following Wednesday's gaze, "Nevermore has become quite popular…"

But the werewolf's voice faded slowly, becoming background noise to Wednesday's ears. Her dark eyes, usually sharp and attentive, lost their focus. Her burgundy-painted lips parted with breaths that came too shallow; because all of a sudden, Wednesday could only focus on one thing.

It felt like touching the tip of a lit candle with your finger, barely there, so faint that someone less aware could miss it. But Wednesday would never. Right on the pulse point of her wrist, on top of the mark she was always trying to scratch out; it burned.

The hand Wednesday had around the leather strap of her backpack tightened its hold until her knuckles turned white. She hasn't blinked since Enid started talking and she could feel the back of her eyes stinging, but her body was stuck in time. Stuck in a moment that shouldn't exist.

Only when the feeling faded, did Wednesday let out the puff of air she'd been holding. She didn't turn her head, but her gaze skimmed over the quad against her own volition, finding Xavier and Bianca and… Eugene was gone but who cares, Wednesday's so-called other half had just been close enough for her to feel them.

For a second she could feel strings pulling at her heart, willing it to match someone else's beat; her skin got littered with goosebumps and she hated every second of it. Hated whoever it was that was inciting it upon her.

It was sadistically ironic, really, that the only person who loathes the idea of having a soulmate, will most likely be studying with them.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 2 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @gayestfeels26 @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @witchyhs-blog @tobylikesfire @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova

[l1vchuu]

resentment. part two

!! warnings: fainting, eating disorders, slow burn, angst, mainly focused on f!reader.

You closed your eyes as you waited, waiting for it to pass. The soft tone of her voice rang in your ears, scraping them like sandpaper to wood. Amelia wasn’t alone, nor was she with Ghost, she was talking to somebody else. You could barely pick up the voice of the other person, but for sure it was a deep, male voice. 

Alejandro, you thought to yourself. Yeah, everybody knows how flirty he can get, no wonder why he would stick to her like a mosquito. 

“So, you said you were from where? You have a slight accent. Wait- let me guess- Texas?”

The girl laughed at his guess, shaking her head.

“Nope, try again!”

“Okay, okay… Missouri?”

Amelia laughed even harder. 

“Kansas.” 

She finally admitted, a big smile planted on her delicate, soft face. Alejandro brought a hand up his face, shaking his head in disappointment. 

So, if Ghost isn’t with her, where is he then?

Your computer monitor turned on and lit up your face, making you squint your eyes, adjusting to the sudden appearance of light. You returned your attention to your monitor, completely ignoring the back-to-back flirt in the hallway. You opened up the browser, getting ready to start the working day. 

It was 12 pm, the sun was shining and the sky was oh so clear, with a few soft transparent clouds placed randomly among it. The gentle soft sun rays entered your office, brightening the room. You had already opened a window or two, letting the breeze in. Piles of papers and files were stacked on your desk, most of them marked and signed with highlighters and red pens. Since you were still taking a break from the previous mission, all you have to do now is paperwork, which was easy for you. The last time Captain Price called you, he said that you weren’t going on any missions anytime soon, since a teammate got severely injured on the way back to base, leading him to his passing. That was the reason for Amelia's appearance- to fill a hole in the team until someone else arrives. Someone better.

You yawned, taking a slight break from working- you had the whole day to get done with it, so why not take a walk around the base?

You stood up from your chair, stretching your arms and legs, hence you’ve been working since 6 am. You took off your blue light glasses as you headed out the door, closing it behind you. You looked around- it was another work day for everyone. Turning your heel, you began walking towards the shooting range. On your way, you passed through Ghost and Kyle’s office, taking a slight peek, you finally saw Simon. Your eyes lit up but did they lit up with rage or happiness? He was sitting at his desk, checking papers. Simon was wearing his balaclava only, not even bothering to put on eye grease like he usually does. As his eyes began to look your way, you immediately picked up the pace, passing through every office until you found the range. 

Your heartbeat has fastened again,

Why did I react like that? 

You couldn’t understand, why did you walk away, when you could’ve gotten inside or at least said hi? 

But, no, he didn’t deserve that. He couldn’t even bother asking where had you been last night, why was your body covered up in bandages? But you knew you couldn’t tell him, it’s not like he doesn’t know your past- he knows everything about you. And it pained you even more, seeing your puffy eyes, seeing your body, it ached for him. You ached for him. Did he even notice? Did he notice your existence at all? Did Amelia completely delete every memory of you? Was he in love with her? 

Why did you care if he was- He was your best friend, right? Right.

Do best friends cry every time they feel like the other doesn’t pay attention to them? Do best friends sob every night, wanting to feel the other's touch and affection? Do best friends harm themselves when they feel like they’re not enough for the other? Do best friends lose themselves for the other? 

You rested your back against the wall, trying to keep your balance. As everyone leaves their offices to eat lunch, you hear footsteps coming toward you. You turned your head in their direction- Soap, with a gentle smile, approached you.

“Well hello there!”

He stands beside you as you nodded at him, forcing a quick smile.

“Wanna eat? I’m starving!” 

Soap says as he puts an arm around you, pulling you with him. As he continued the way down the cafeteria he was blabbing all about his day, getting mad as he spoke. But you barely paid any attention to him, it’s like your ears are filled with white noise.

When you approached the table, you sat across from Johnny.

“Hey, why didn’t you get any food?” 

“I’m not hungry, I ate before this.”

You lied. You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday’s lunch. The only thing in your stomach was the coffee from this morning.  And- if you were to eat anything, the first thing you would be able to do is to throw it all up so you weren’t hungry at all.

Soap nodded, eating his lunch as you two sat in silence. He looked at you, wondering about something. He knew something had changed in you, he just couldn’t place a finger on what. He notices your swollen eyes:

“Have you gotten any sleep? You look like a corpse.”

“Very funny.”

“No, like, not joking. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Johnny. It’s just stress, you know the drill.”

“Just making sure, you know.”

“Don’t worry about me, where is Gas?”

“Kyle is on cleaning duty- he accidentally broke the printer in Price's office.”

He held onto his laugh. Your eyes widened.

“No way! How did he manage to fuck up like that?”

“Don’t know, it’s a talent at this point!”

You laughed, calming down a little bit. Soap was usually the person who messed stuff up and got punished later in the process. You looked around, your eyes scanning the cafeteria. You know who you are looking for. He wasn’t there. Johnny caught your gaze, again, something was off. 

“So uhh, I haven’t seen you talk to Ghost in a while, did something happen?”

You almost choked on your spit as you looked at him, your pupils dilating. 

Shit.

“Nah, just work.”

Johnny knew, of course, since him and Ghost are close, too. He decided not to integrate any further so he just nodded. Simon told him about you, and his situationship with Amelia. 

Everybody knew how close you and Simon are, since you’ve always been together, weather it was in training or just hanging out. On the other hand, everyone thought that you were dating at some point, which usually made you laugh. 

Johnny thought for a minute, wondering if he wanted to tell you or not. He knew about your feelings, especially with the new recruit coming along, he understood you. But he thought it would be better to tell you sooner or later. 

“Amelia and Ghost are hooking up.”

And that was the worst way he could’ve told you, but he did. You looked at him, unfazed. 

“I know.”

No, I didn’t, but now things were clearer. 

A few hours have passed since lunch and you tried so hard to accept the news, but your body had other plans. Your stomach twisted at every thought about it, making you feel sick. You were sick.

…

It has been a month, and you couldn’t feel worse. 

One day you were at your desk, filling papers until you felt your head almost burst open from pain. You winced, holding your head in your hands, you couldn’t feel a thing, only immense pain. Your head was throbbing and throbbing, until your body felt lighter- then you fainted. 

Usually, nobody comes to your desk at this late hour, so absolutely no one noticed. As your unconscious body was laying on your desk, your office phone rang- it was Price. The ringing continued for a while, the vibrations causing your desk to shake a bit. But you were laying there, you weren't there.

After he called you about three times, he came to your office. At first, he thought you were sleeping and called your name even louder- but when you didn’t answer, he went closer to check on you, and then he saw. The realization hit him.

As he checked your pulse, he sighed out of relief. Without panicking, he called a medic to get you checked.

You had a dream again.

You were laying in a field and the smell of grass and flowers filled your lungs. The nice spring wind was dancing in the air, you have never felt so peaceful. The birds sang beautifully and you were staring at the clear sky. The weather wasn't cold, yet not too warm. In the distance you could see a path, leading to a nearby lake.

Maybe I should go there.

You stood up, the wind welcoming you as it flew through your hair. You walked through the field, the beautiful sight making you feel full. You couldn't have been happier.

When you got to the lake, you sat on the porch. The coldness of the wood hitting your legs, you looked around. This place felt similar to you, you've been there before. You rested on the porch for a while, letting your legs soak in the lake water as you enjoyed the view- the trees resting on top of the lake, birds flying in and out of them as if they were playing tag.

All of these creatures- yet you still felt so alone.

So alone, you wanted to tear your body to pieces, hoping that would make you feel needed- maybe even cared for. But you weren't.

The only person who understood every particle of your brain is gone now. He wasn't there. It's like you never existed to him. All of these empty glances and smiles. Why?

Why is he not there when you need it the most? Oh, wait. He caused it. He made you do this. Or did he? What if it's all you? What if it is all your fault?

It is your fault.

A bird came up to you, sweet and little. You lowered your head to look at it, smiling. It looked up at you with its' cute and small eyes. And then it spoke to you.

Who are you?

You blinked, your brain registering the information.

I'm talking to you! Who are you?

You tilted your head, not knowing how to answer.

I'm a human.

I can see that, but it's not what I'm asking. Who are you?

You stopped for a bit, confused. You didn't quite understand what the bird was asking you.

You don't look quite good, what happened to you?

It was true, you didn't look good. Your eyes were swollen and a bit red- a purple tint around them, forming black circles.

Nothing happened. I'm okay.

You're lying, you don't look okay.

I'm just a little tired. You know, from work and all.

Only tired? You look like you're sick.

Yeah, I haven't eaten in a while.

Why don't you eat?

It's complicated. You're a bird, you won't understand it.

Maybe I'm a bird, but I can see when someone doesn't feel good. What is your work like?

It's not for everyone. It's harsh and dangerous.

Do you think you can handle that?

I've worked there for a lot of time, and I could handle it.

I'm supposed to be strong, right? You thought to yourself.

But you look weak, are you sure you're made for it?

It's just temporary, I'll get better.

Are you sure? When I feel tired from carrying sticks, I take a break. Why don't you take a break?

Why don't you take a break?

You thought about that for a bit, you could take a break. A long brake. A vacation even. Why don't you just quit the job? I mean, you could. You can just leave and return to your hometown, and start living a new life, apart from all the torture and pain.

That sounds good, but all of my friends are there.

If all of your friends are there, why do you still feel this way? My friends help me when I'm sad- and I help them.

But I don't have anyone back home.

That's not true- you have yourself. One person can change a lot of things in your life, why can't that person be you? You could always make new friends.

But I don't feel great when I'm alone.

Learning to like solitude takes time, but you'll get there eventually.

A whistle could be heard from the distance, making the bird jump.

Oh, that was for me- I have to go! See you around!

The bird flew into the trees, leaving you alone again. That encounter left you speechless for a while.

Maybe the bird was right. You can always leave.

-

When you woke up, you weren’t in the place where you fell asleep in. You looked around, trying to understand the situation. When the nurse came in, she told you everything. You had fainted out of exhaustion.

When you felt better enough to walk, you asked if you could get checked out. She nodded, writing stuff on her pad as she checks you out. She also told you to visit Price’s office. You thanked her and went straight to his door. As you knocked, he told you to come in. When you came in, he smiled at you:

“Feeling better?”

You nodded. He motions you to sit on the chair, and you did that.

You sat in silence for a bit.

"Look, you might not know it- but the boys are worried about you. You stay in your office all day-"

"I want to take a break."

You interrupt, looking at him with your swollen eyes. He nods.

"A break? Sure, you can take a break."

"When can I leave?"

"How long will you be leaving for? Two weeks? One week?"

"A month."

"A month? Are you sure about that- I mean- I could give you that but we'll have to replace you."

"No, I'm sure."

"Okay then, I'll file the papers later and you can leave tomorrow morning. Is that okay for you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Alright, do you want me to say anything to the rest of the team?"

"No, sir."

He nods again.

"You can go and get your things ready, Sergant. Have a nice break and..."

He pauses for a bit.

"Stay safe."

You nodded as you stood up and headed to the door. You exited and went back to your room. It was empty, no wonder.

Fortunately, Ghost was on a night shift, which meant that you wouldn't have to explain yourself. It's not like he would care, right?

You packed your things and laid on your bed, looking up at the ceiling. You'll be leaving in an hour.

When the time came, you left the base. Gladly nobody noticed your leave.

But Ghost came home to an empty room. All of the pictures on the walls, your clothes, everything was gone, including you.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.☆.｡.:

Heyy! I apologize for the late post, I've been busy with school and all that, but here I am. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did. If you want part three, make sure to like or reblog- I'm open to suggestions!

[kissesbyliz]

the interrogation

(feat. john price, johnny "soap" mactavish)

cw: smut!! mdni, dubcon, fem!reader, assassin!reader, orgasm denial, mean price and soap

you were being forcefully led through a dimly lit hallway. two men were on either side of you, a big hand taking place on the small of your back and maintaining a firm pressure as it forced you forward. you tried your best to plant your feet on the floor, to resist the situation as best you could, but it was all fruitless as the hand urging you on was just that damn strong.

you gritted your teeth, glaring over your shoulder at the man shoving you. he only shot you a mocking smile in response. his blue eyes soon narrowed as he gave you another push to keep you in motion. strangely, you found it alluring enough that you think you would feel an attraction to it, if it weren't for his fingers digging painfully into your skin.

"keep walkin'." he said harshly, his scottish accent gruff against your ears.

"try not to dig yourself into an even bigger hole, love." the man on your left advised, eyes regarding you with warning. he was the one who had subdued you, you recognized, a faint memory of leaning against his burly chest as he carried you resurfacing in your mind.

you all finally arrived at an interrogation room. you were forcefully ordered to sit down, and you planted yourself on the seat they had pulled out for you unceremoniously. you slid your handcuffed hands onto the surface of the table, glaring at the two men as they rounded it. the one who had been on your left took his place in the chair in front of you. the scottish man remained standing beside his companion, bracing his hands on the metal table to lean over it and gaze at you with scrutiny. you tried to hide your shiver, though you were unable to discern if it was from the chill of the room or from the pressure of their stares.

the man in front of you offered you a sleek smile, his eyes slightly crinkling at the corners, "now, since we're all going to be getting to know each other very well, i think some introductions are in order, don't you think?"

"you can call me price." he nodded to his ally, "you can call that big guy over there soap."

you refused to grant them your name and clenched your jaw. you figured they already knew damn well who you were, having plucked you from your assignment and tossed you in their escort vehicle. price ignored your silence, continuing, "why don't we start off with something easy? you know why you're here?"

"for a good time?" you retorted sarcastically. the men looked at each other, before soap leaned in closer to your face.

"come on, you seem like a smart girl. answer our questions, and we'll consider not having to ruin that pretty face of yours." he sneered. you debated challenging the threat, but opted not to as you figured it wouldn't get you any closer to escaping their containment.

you cocked your head to the side, finally responding, "because i killed your soldiers?"

"assassinated at least a dozen of our men right in their homes. it sure was a real pain in our ass trying to look for you too. isn't that right, johnny?" price corrected you immediately, glancing back at his ally. soap nodded in response, not breaking eye contact with you.

"who d'you work for?" he cut to the chase. the sharpness in his gaze told you that he wasn't fucking around, but you refused to let him intimidate you.

you scoffed in mock amusement, "must be dumber than you look, if you really think i would tell you bastards."

soap grinned meanly, "you're going to, if y'know what's best for ya'."

he leaned back to full height. the sheer size of his figure standing over you was enough to make you instinctively shrink back into your chair.

"think she needs some encouragement, captain." he reported to his leader, something scary lacing his low tone.

"think you're right, johnny." an impending grin slowly stretched across price's face as he confirmed, and you gulped.

"what kind of encouragement?" you demanded, not meaning to make it sound as nervous as it came out. you instantly rejected the apprehension bubbling in your chest with everything you had, urgently reminding yourself of your training. that you could easily kill these people if you so wanted-

"the kind that'll make you talk, sweetheart." his chair scraped loudly on the floor as he stood up to walk around the table, now standing directly beside you. gazing up at him, you came to an odd realization that made something warm bloom in your core; he looks like he could take complete control over you, like he could treat you any way he so desired. it's a foreign thought that you hated to admit wasn't entirely unwelcomed, as you had never felt it seeing anyone else before.

"i'm not scared of you." you felt the need to assert, knowing damn well that you're lying. if your stomach churning in unease had to say anything about it.

a callous laugh rumbled from price's chest, before his tone shifted to something sinister, "get on your knees."

you sat for a second frozen in place. apparently a second too long for him, as his hand soon tangled itself in your hair and forced you to the ground. you yelped at the force, your knees hitting the ground with a painful thud.

"now, you're going to sit here and take what i'm gonna give you, until you feel like talking to us."

his fingers began to work at his belt, shoving it down along with his trousers to reveal a half hardened dick, already leaking with precum. he didn't bother to wait for you to move, opting to drag your head for you so your soft lips slid along the base of his thick cock.

the slight bit of contact made him groan, peering down at you with half lidded eyes, "open those pretty lips for me, love. and i promise i'll make this less painful for you."

you had no choice but to obey, wrapping your mouth around the tip of his thick cock and drawing a heavy sigh from him. fuck, as much as you didn't want it, you couldn't help the arousal that was beginning to pool in your core, mixing in with your fear and making you positively burn.

he thrusted harshly into your mouth and drew a gag from your throat. he only groaned at the vibrations, using his hand in your hair as leverage to fuck up deeper into you. suddenly overcome with the need to take more of him, to taste more of him, you relaxed your throat as best as you can.

"well, don't take all the fun, cap'." you glanced over to see soap, fisting his own dick in his hands as his chest rose and fell with his heavy breaths. you whimpered involuntarily as you briefly forgot the circumstance you were in.

"listen to her whine, johnny. reckon she wants you as well." price chuckled, "that what you want, princess?"

you glared up at him, grasping at straws to hang onto that little bit of dignity you had left. but fuck, if it was hard trying to keep up your act with two men so eager for you.

soap walked over to you, positioning his length in front of your face. you released price's cock with a slick pop! as soap guided you to take him into your mouth with a hand in your hair.

he's a little smaller than price had been, but just as thick. you closed your eyes, mewling as you bobbed your head up and down.

"fuck, her throat feels good, sir." he grunted above you, hips thrusting slightly into your mouth.

"that it does, johnny." price agreed with a chuckle. he crouched down to your height, palming one of your breasts through your thin, long sleeved compression shirt.

"let's get some of these clothes off, hm?" he commented smoothly, before reaching up to your collar and shredding the shirt in half.

you instantly moved to free the member in your mouth to gape at the bearded man beside you in indignation, "what the fuck-"

your words are then muffled by soap shoving his cock back into your mouth with a grunt. you planted your hands on his thighs, trying to urge him to ease up so you could yell at price for exposing you. however, his hips only sped up, his dick moving in and out of your mouth faster.

price snickered at your actions, shoving your bra up to free your breasts, "funny, how you thought you could hide these from us, darling." he sighed, fondling your bare tits with his warm hands.

eventually, he stood back up and placed a hand on soap's chest. the pressure in your throat immediately subsided as the man obediently backed away from you.

"that's enough. look at her, mactavish. looks like she's begging to be ruined, don't you think?"

"looks like she needs to be put in her place, sir." soap panted, broad chest heaving up and down. you stared up at them dumbly from below while you caught your own breath.

"lay down on the table, lovie." you slowly complied with their commands, the chill of the metal freezing against your back. a quiet whine left your throat as you began to feel the wetness pooling in your slick underwear.

soap slotted himself in between your unconsciously spread legs, the overcast of the light above him making him look that much more more threatening. thick fingers hooked themselves under the waistband of your pants in order to eagerly rake them down along with your panties. he tossed your garments onto the floor carelessly.

your legs are then callously spread apart. the man above you groaned thickly as every single inch of you was finally revealed to the two of them. you saw price licking his lips, placing a hand on one of your thighs to keep you splayed open for them.

"we're gonna take turns using you, and if you tell us what we want to know, we'll think about letting you cum." price explained slowly so you can carefully process every word. he moved his hand to your cheek to caress it gingerly, distracting you momentarily before-

soap pushed in with a growl, the intrusion stretching you out painfully as a result from the lack of prep. you let out a heated moan, your legs kicking up against his torso in order to get him to slow down his motions. to your surprise, he decided to take mercy on you and set a moderate pace in order to let you get adjusted to his big length. his cock dragged achingly inside your cunt as you whined in protest.

"none of that now, bonnie." he breathed above you, hands nudging your legs away. he seemed very contented at the feeling of your slick walls wrapped around him, muttering expletives under his breath.

you eventually managed to get adjusted to the stretch, whining as the pull of his member deliberately began to feel good. he sped up his thrusts gradually, quickly working you up to your peak. your pleasure climbed higher and higher, moans ripping themselves free from your chest.

"let's try this again. who do you work for?"

"fuck- fuck you."

soap's hand reached down between your bodies to work at your clit, rubbing pleasurable circles that drew endless whines from your lips. you began to feel that familiar knot in your stomach tightening as pleasure raked all throughout your body. you squeezed around him, shutting your eyes tightly and preparing for a harsh orgasm when-

he pulls out all of a sudden, his fingers promptly withdrawing from your pussy. your cunt ached at the sudden emptiness. you cried out in distress, feeling the knot in your stomach beginning to fade away.

"y'wanna come?"

"yes!" you argued, hands reaching down to try and pull him back towards you. he obliged you with a dark chuckle, but refused to slide his length back inside you.

"then you're gonna tell us who put you on that mission. or you're never gonna feel that sweet release."

"like i'm ever gonna tell you- fuck!" you cried out in pain as a sharp slap! landed on your pussy at your response.

"try again, bonnie." soap sneered, finally sliding back into you. you sobbed as his harsh thrusts started up again, easing you right back into that pleasurable haze. before you knew it, you were barreling closer and closer into another orgasm. you panted as you felt yourself tighten around him again, preparing to gush all over his cock.

however, that climax is crudely stolen from you as well. as well the one after that, and the one after that.

before you knew it, you were forced to endure a brutal fucking while countless of your orgasms were ruined. your chest heaved as your body bounced up and down the length of the table, then stilled as soap pulled out of you to reject your orgasm yet again.

desperation for your release began to take hold in your brain. you could physically feel your resolve beginning to crack, your mind frantically casting out any amounts of rationale to make room for just how badly you needed to cum.

later, when you're sitting in that cold jail cell, you'll curse yourself to hell for what you were about to utter in the spur of the moment. but at that minute, when your pussy was beginning to hurt from the lack of release, all voices of reason flew from your head as you finally blurted out, "alvarez!"

a wolfish grin stretched against price's face as you continued, "fuck, he knew you guys were getting too close to finding his operation, so he needed me to take out everyone who knew anything! now, please let me cum!" your eyes screwed shut in frustration, panting heavily at your confession.

"knew you had it in 'ya." soap praised with a triumphant grin as he pushed back inside, speeding up his thrusts exactly the way you've been needing.

a brief image of being brutally eliminated by one of alvarez' men for squealing flashed across your mind, but you didn't care.

you just needed to fucking cum.

that knot in your stomach reappeared for what had to be the twentieth time that night, and you sobbed at the waves of pleasure that raked through your body. you're brought closer and closer to that edge, and finally, finally, you came all over his thick cock, soaking his pelvis in your juices. the force of your orgasm ripping through you made you cry out, moaning loudly as he fucked you all throughout your high.

eventually, white hot pleasure turned to overstimulation, and soap retreated with a breathless chuckle when you began to push at his hips.

you barely got a second to breathe, to process the powerful climax you just had, before price replaced johnny between your legs.

"you're not- you're not done?" you gaped in disbelief. you attempted to push him off, knowing any stimulation you would feel after your harsh release would just border on intolerable.

"just a sec, dear. now i have to have you, after seeing you cum like that." his darkened eyes were glazed over with lust as you looked up at him. his cock was red and angry, twitching as he positioned himself over your entrance.

he thrusted all the way inside you with a groan. your pussy ached at the intrusion, his cock reaching even deeper inside of you than soap. he immediately took to an unforgiving pace, prioritizing his pleasure over anything else. tears began to pool at your eyes at the stimulation, but you couldn't deny how good it felt to have a cock fucking you again.

price leaned over you to latch his mouth on one of your nipples, drawing out a long moan from you. high pitched whines left your mouth as his cock bullied its way into your cunt repeatedly.

all of sudden, you felt overwhelming ecstasy again as you unexpectedly released all over his length with a sob. his hips continued fucking into you for a moment, before he finished inside of you with a loud grunt.

the room was devoid of any words for a couple minutes, the only sounds being the harsh breaths coming from you and price. you finally rose from your supine position, sitting up tiredly on the edge of the table to peer at them.

"did good for us, princess." price nodded with a wide smile. "might have to do this again some other time. what d'you say?"

"next time, why don't we invite ghost and gaz over?" soap suggested, the names making your stomach drop in dread. "no way we can keep this cunt all to ourselves."

[inou-ie]

Hello, how you doing? Can I please have yan Jinglie x Blade's younger sister. Basically, his sister is youngerin a year. She is also part of Stellaron Hunter, but she is more has more softer side. Jingliu was always in love with them, untill they left woth Blade. However, one day Jingliees Blade's sister in Xianzhou, and decide why not to kidnap them and make them hers? (Hopefully I didn't confused you).

Author's notes: I'm sorry, this took so long... I hope I got it right though! Since you asked about yandere before, I thought you'd like it this way.

Warnings: slight NSFW, yandere, kidnapping, stalking.

MDNI

Joining the Stellaron Hunters to care for your older brother is akin to having a second job. You must be there for him, recognizing the possibility of his losing control, rather than relying solely on Kafka's abilities.

You and Blade are consistently assigned to missions together, whereas your brother often operates independently. This pattern persisted during your mission in Xianzhou Luofu, as he ventured solo, leaving you to operate alone.

Frustrated by the constant effort to keep pace with him, you resolved to complete the mission solo. As you surveyed the surroundings, a flood of memories engulfed you, recalling the diverse individuals with whom you had interacted in this very place.

However, an unsettling feeling gnawed at you. It seemed as though someone had been watching you from the moment you entered this place. You glanced around, but there was no one in sight.

Putting the mission aside and continuing to walk in an attempt to lose the mysterious pursuer turned out to be a grave error. You eventually found yourself at a dead end, and a chilling sensation crept down your spine as the surroundings grew colder with each passing moment.

"...you.. have returned..." a cold voice from behind caused you to pivot around, revealing a woman wearing a black blindfold, advancing toward you with deliberate, unhurried steps.

"Who are you?" You swiftly raised your guard, yet a bone-chilling coldness filled the air as she inched closer. "Have you... forgotten about me?" The woman paused, then delicately removed her blindfold, revealing her piercing red eyes fixed intently upon you.

In that moment, a rush of memories flooded your mind. You took a closer look at her face and breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that this woman was, in fact, an old companion.

"Jingliu?" You muttered, studying the woman once more. A faint smile graced her lips as she approached you. "That's right... I'm glad you came back." she said, her voice carrying a chilly tone. She stood before you, her hand reaching for your cheek, gently rubbing her thumb against it.

Her touch, though both gentle and firm, was unmistakably familiar. A chuckle escaped your lips; how could you ever forget the person you used to spend time with?

"...n't leave..." You heard Jingliu mumble something, and your curiosity piqued as you leaned in closer. "Did you say something?" You asked with curiosity. After several moments of silence, you felt her grip on your chin as she locked eyes with you with an intense gaze.

"You can't leave me again..." Jingliu uttered before she moved her hand toward your face. Her cold hand covered your eyes. Just as you attempted to pull away, an intense and numbing coldness washed over your mind. You groaned in pain while struggling to break free, but she held you tightly with her arm around your waist, her hand still seemingly freezing your thoughts.

"What are you doing?!" You continued to struggle against her, but it proved futile; her strength remained as formidable as ever. Jingliu didn't utter a word, and you felt your mind growing blank as you slowly lost consciousness.

You jolted awake with a start, sensing a weight on your body, only to find Jingliu atop you. She smiled to herself while gently caressing your face. "You'll be with me forever..." She mumbled softly before planting a tender kiss on your forehead.

With your eyes half-opened, you strained to scan the dim surroundings, but darkness obscured everything, and your mind remained clouded. "What did you do to me..." you whispered weakly, attempting to shift, but Jingliu clung to you tightly, using her weight to keep you pinned down.

"This is where you belong... by my side," Jingliu whispered, her finger tracing a chilling path along your neck. "I won't ever let you go, not again." she added, her smile taking on a wicked edge as her red eyes gleamed in the darkness.

You groaned as Jingliu shifted her position, now seated on top of you. She gazed down at you while keeping you pinned down. "I love you..." she mumbled before cupping your cheeks in her hands. "I love you so much." she repeated, seemingly waiting for your reaction.

"What are you even saying..." you muttered under your breath, noticing Jingliu's expression darkening. She grabbed your neck with both hands and leaned down. "That's not right, you were supposed to say you love me back." she whispered dangerously against your throat.

Jingliu tilted your head upward slightly, her mouth drawing even closer to your throat. Her hands felt cold against your skin. "Let me go– ah..." a sudden moan escaped your lips when she licked your throat up to your chin.

Her breath hitched when she heard you moan, and it only served to fuel her desire even more. Jingliu's tongue continued to explore your neck, drawing shapes on your skin that sent shivers down your spine. She nipped at the soft flesh just below your earlobe before sucking gently, her hot breath causing goosebumps along your collarbone.

You could feel every inch of her nails digging into the sensitive skin behind your ears, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. Despite yourself, a low growl rumbled from deep within your throat when she finally bit down hard on that vulnerable spot between neck and shoulder—the bite not quite painful but undeniably intense.

"I love you." she murmured once more into your ear, her voice hoarse with desire. Her tongue traced the outline of your earlobe before dipping inside, sending shivers down your spine.

You can't help but moan beneath her, squirming around while closing your eyes tightly. "It's been years... you must quell the longing you've stirred within me." Jingliu whispered with an air of longing and desire. Your eyes widen at the sight of Jingliu slowly removing her clothes before leaning down to embrace you.

"I'll never let you escape, my love.. Nothing can separate us ever again." Jingliu mumbled before your combined moans, cries, and whimpers echoed through the night air like a primal symphony...

[daisies-daydreams]

HELLO HONEY !!

i’d like to request a ghost x reader fic where he’s a college athlete and the reader is the coach’s daughter. he attracts a lot of attention (i wonder why) and is used to getting who he wants and is pleasantly surprised when the readers uninterested at first :)

Try (CollegeAU!Simon Riley x F!Reader)

Pairing: Simon Riley x F!Reader Category: Fluff & Angst Warnings: Swearing, Sexual Themes, Drinking, Smoking, Attempted Drugging, Referenced Assault, Violence Word Count: 4.9k+

A/N: Hello! Thank you for your request! I apologize: I tried my best to understand rugby, but it's not really popular where I'm from. It's just a sport that I thought would fit Simon the best. I hope you enjoy!

(Minor spoiler: Simon is not the one who drugs your drink).

Image Source: Pexels

-> Ch. 2

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

Simon rubbed the red mark on his cheek, his eyes lingering on the woman who was pulling her clothes back over her bare body.

“I just can't believe you, Simon,” she spat. Simon remained silent as he watched her grab her purse and stomp out of his dorm without another word. The door slammed with a loud thud as he remained clutching the blanket with one hand and cradling his cheek with the other. The welt stung, sending small ripples of pain through his face.

Simon grumbled as he rubbed the sore spot a few more times before planting his feet on the floor. He pulled out his phone and earbuds. Rugby practice was starting soon, and he couldn’t waste his time ruminating about a short fling.

Music blasted through his ears as he grabbed his duffel bag and walked towards the field. It was a blazing summer day, the sun beating down against his rugged body. He passed by a group of female students. They giggled and whispered as he nodded and waved towards them.

Getting a woman wasn't easy for Simon. Actually keeping them was the difficult part. All of the players eyed Simon as he walked into the locker rooms.

“What happened to you?” a foreign exchange student, nicknamed "König", gawked as Simon strode up to his locker. Simon patted his cheek, the welt still slightly swollen.

“Just a mishap,” he replied in a flat tone as he changed into his Jersey and shorts. Johnny, his roommate and teammate, peeked from beside the lockers.

“You sure it wasn’t a parting gift from that hen you’ve been seein?” he asked with a raised brow. Simon tensed at his words and harshly pulled out his boots. König and Johnny exchanged a knowing glance.

Simon sighed as he slipped his large footwear on. He tied his boots just as he heard the faint sound of a whistle blowing.

“C’mon. Practice is starting soon,” König said. Johnny followed after him, then Simon.

Despite him having incredible sex just before he came to practice, there was a tiny seed growing in his chest. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it felt cold and made his heart feel like it was filling with lead. Simon tilted his head side to side as if shaking his own thoughts out. He scanned the field and the sharp sting in his chest quickly faded when he saw a young woman sitting in the stands.

Your hair was pulled up in a messy bun, your clothes not too revealing but not too modest. You nibbled on the end of your pen as you stared down at your notebook, a textbook resting on your lap. You glanced up and locked eyes with him. Simon’s chest exploded with warmth, his pupils dilatating ever so slightly. He couldn’t help but swallow when he saw your lips part slightly.

The sound of a whistle screeched and broke his attention.

“Riley! Let’s focus!” Coach Price’s voice boomed. Simon huffed as he ripped his gaze from you and jogged towards the players doing warm ups. Everyone agreed that the new coach was something of a hard ass. Rumors have spread that he used to be a black op in the SAS. Simon wasn’t really one for gossip, so he shrugged it off.

Simon would peek over at you every so often, your beauty only making him sink further into desire. Johnny noticed this fairly quickly. He nudged Simon’s shoulder as they were doing a few warm-ups.

“I wouldn’t go after her if I were you,” Johnny said, his eyes full of worry. Simon laughed.

“What? She your bird or somethin'?” he asked. Before Johnny could reply, Coach Price blew the whistle again.

“Everybody line up in formation!” he bellowed. Simon bit the inside of his cheek as he stole another glance at you. You were still nose-deep in your homework. You yawned and stretched your arms above your head.

Another whistle blow.

“Riley!” Price barked. You looked up again, this time your lips forming into a small smile as he met your gaze. Simon felt even more determined when he played now, checking over his shoulder every now and then. Of course, this came with consequences, including several remarks from Price.

"In case you forgot your position: you're the fullback, Riley! Watch for your team!" the coach yelled at the top of his lungs. Simon saw you giggling before turning back to your book.

By the end of the training, he was worn out and covered in sweat, his tattooed arms flexing as he stretched himself on the bench.

“Hit your head too many times?” Johnny teased. Simon huffed as his eyes wandered back up to the stands where you still remained. Your hair was slightly frizzy from the late summer heat. You tucked a strand behind your ear before taking a drink of water. Judging from the expression you made, it was empty. You rose from your seat and started walking to the nearest water fountain. Simon took a huge swig of water before wiping his mouth.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. Johnny’s mouth opened to call for him but he was already making his way up the metal steps. Simon actually felt his heart race as he approached you. You were filling up your water bottle as he pressed his hand against the wall.

“Scuse me,” he said. You turned around and blinked. A forced smile stretched across your face as he strolled up to you, his jersey clinging to his rugged, sweaty skin. Your beauty almost made him forget just why he came up there.

“Just wanted to introduce myself. The name’s Simon,” he said as he held his hand out. Your smile fell as you shook it, your palms soft compared to his.

“I thought it was Riley,” you quipped. He laughed.

"That's my last name. Just call me Simon," he grinned. You gave him a short nod before making your way back to the stands. Simon scrambled towards you.

“I haven’t seen you around practice before,” he commented as you two walked. You nodded, your face tight.

“I’ll probably just be around for this week,” you said with a slight edge to your voice. Simon tilted his head. There seemed to be something familiar about you. Maybe you were one of his classmates?

“Yeah? Why’s that?” he asked. Your lips pursed as you squeezed your bottle.

“My car’s the shop,” you explained, your nostrils flaring. Simon grunted, his eyes looking you up and down as both of you turned the corner.

“Sorry if this is sudden, but has anyone ever told you how gorgeous your smile is?” he drawled, his voice dropping a few octaves. You blinked and sighed.

“Listen, you seem like a somewhat decent guy, but I need to get back to my homework,” you stated matter-of-factly. Simon nearly choked on his spit. This is the first time in what felt like an eternity that a girl’s turned him down. His heart began to race as he watched you slip away.

“Bye,” you quickly said with a wave as you returned to your seat. Simon’s jaw clicked as he felt a bitter taste envelope his tongue. Eventually, he stopped staring at you and made his way back down to the field. Johnny’s face looked somewhat pale as he strode up towards him.

“What?” Simon snapped. Johnny pointed towards the stands. Simon’s eyes followed him. His throat grew tight as he saw you talking to Coach Price. The man’s arms were crossed as he nodded along to your words. It felt like lightning struck through him when Price’s head snapped towards him, his eyes narrowing and face turning bright red.

“Good luck, mate,” Johnny said as he roughly patted his shoulder. Simon scoffed as his roommate stepped back while Price approached them. Everyone watched, the entire field seeming to freeze. The coach came uncomfortably close to Simon as he snarled in a strained voice:

“My office. Now”.

+++

The next several minutes were filled with Price casting death glares at Simon as he ranted at him.

“Listen here, boy. I may be new, but I already know of your reputation here on campus," he began. Simon's face remained as neutral as possible as spit flew out of the man's mouth. "I’m not about to let my daughter become another one of your brazen hussies,” he growled as he shook his index finger at him. Simon felt his chest turn to stone as he watched the coach scowl.

“You are not to touch, speak, or even look at (Y/N),” Price ordered. Simon nodded quickly, his chest tightening as the man stared him down. The coach leaned forward, his palms pressed to the cold wood of the desk as he scowled.

“Mark my words, Riley. If I find out you’ve stuck your knob inside my daughter, I’ll cut it off and feed it to my fucking dogs,” he roared. Simon swallowed a lump in his throat as he nodded.

“Same goes for the rest of you!” Price shouted as his head snapped towards his door. Whispers followed by several shuffling feet were heard outside the door. Simon’s blood ran cold as his shoulders tightened.

“Yes, sir. I understand,” he muttered. Price’s nostrils flared as he pointed out of his office.

“Good. Now, get out of my sight. And don't get distracted next time...or else,” he spat. Simon nodded before turning on his heel, quickly making his way down the hall. The locker room was silent when he stepped inside. Several eyes were locked on him as he walked towards the showers. Simon closed his eyes and sighed as the cold water rushed down his sweaty, rippling back. Thankfully, the locker room was nearly empty by the time he stepped out.

Johnny stood scrolling through his phone before looking up. He offered Simon a careful smile as they walked out of the building.

“Want to get some takeaway?” he asked. Simon remained silent, simply looking forwards as the world blurred around him.

Not only did you reject him, but the man who was your father happened to be one of the most terrifying people he’d ever met. A lump formed in his throat as he glanced down at his crotch, then back up at the sidewalk.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was the coach’s daughter?” Simon grumbled. Johnny shrugged.

“I tried to, but we had to start practice,” he explained. Simon ran a hand down his face. Frustration built inside him like boiling lava inside a volcano. He whipped out his phone, texting a girl he met a few weeks ago.

“Which one are you texting this time?” Johnny asked bluntly. Simon ignored him, instead sending her a message about a party this weekend. A friend of theirs, Kyle, was in a fraternity who was notorious for throwing massive raging keggers.

“Surprised you actually texted a girl back this time, Ghost,” Johnny quipped as he nudged his shoulder. Simon rolled his eyes.

“When the hell are you all goin' to drop that annoyin' nickname?” he grumbled. Johnny chuckled as they stepped through the doors to their dorm building. Simon happened to glance over to see you passing by in a black truck. Your eyes locked again briefly before you looked away. Price was in the driver’s seat, his eyes set on the road as he pulled away.

“Come on. I think a couple of pints is in order for the both of us,” Johnny said. Simon raised a brow.

“You no longer with Gabby?” he asked. Johnny’s bright smile seemed to falter.

“I dinnae ken. She said she ‘needs a break’,” the Scotsman said as he flexed his fingers with air quotes. Simon grunted.

“Alright-but you’re buyin’,” he stated. He didn't even try to hide his wry grin as Johnny scoffed and rambled at him.

+++

The next few practice's were brutal, to say the least. Every time he looked at you, Price demanded everyone to do one-hundred push ups. Simon was beginning to believe the rumor's about the coach's past.

“For fuck’s sake, man-just keep your eyes off of her!" one of the players gaped after a tiring practice. Simon ignored him as he changed into a fresh pair of clothes. His shorts hugged his muscular thighs nicely while his tank too stretched over his rugged upper body. Johnny came up beside him.

“You still goin’ to Kyle’s party tonight?” he asked. Simon nodded.

“Yeah, Tracy ditched me at the last second though,” he shrugged. Johnny patted his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure there’s a lovely lass who’ll gladly get into your pants…that is, if she hasn't already,” Johnny smirked. Simon punched his arm, causing the Scotsman to chuckle.

“What about you, big guy? You wanna come?” he asked as he turned towards König. Simon had absolutely no idea how this guy was human. He had to duck every time he walked through the door for crying out loud. König sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Nein, it’s not really my scene,” he shrugged.

“Fair enough-just know the invitation is always open,” Johnny grinned. König nodded before slipping towards the showers. A 'thunk' sound reverberated across the room as König swore in German and rubbed his head.

Simon closed his locker door before padding out of the building. His eyes lit up when he saw you climbing into a black truck. He frowned when Coach Price’s cold, heavy gaze trailed over towards him. He glared at him before climbing into his vehicle and driving away. Simon sighed before making his way back to the dorm.

+++

Loud music thumped against the walls. Smoke hung in the air as several students bumped and grinded against each other. The lighting was dim inside the frat house as chaos erupted at every waking second. Simon sipped at his beer while Kyle rambled on and on about how obnoxious some of the new frat members were.

"And Graves-Christ, don't even get me started. He never stops talking about his precious Porsche back in the States. His old man got it for him as a present for his sixteenth birthday. Can you fuckin" believe that?!" he scoffed as he waved his hands wildly. The song changed during the one-sided conversation and that’s when Simon felt it: the cold, dark pit opening up inside his chest.

The feeling made his beer grow stale, music dull and the air thick and heavy. He brushed past Kyle as he made his way towards the back deck, ignoring his several questions. The people in the room seemed to slow down as he barraged his way through. He barely caught a glimpse of König.

"Bastard actually showed up," Simon thought. A blonde girl was sitting next to the Austrian, batting her lashes as she whispered something into his ear. His cheeks turned a bright red as he pulled his hoodie over his head.

Simon swung the door open and slammed it closed. He took a deep breath of the chilled night air. Crickets chirped as the muffled music inside swelled into a crescendo.

“Needed a break too, huh?” a familiar voice asked. Simon’s eyes flew open and landed on you. You were wearing ripped jeans and a black crop top, your body decorated with minimal amounts of jewelry. Even in the dim lighting, you looked ethereal.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. You turned your body towards him, the light from inside highlighting your features.

“Got any smokes?” you asked. Simon raised a brow and nodded.

“Yeah, but I forgot my lighter,” he said as he rummaged through his pocket. You snatched something from your jeans, pulling out a small, silver box. Simon grinned as he walked over, offering you a cig. You flicked the lighter on before taking it from his fingers. You turned as you sucked in a long drag, puffing out the smoke into the night. Your eyes lingered on his shocked face.

“What? I’m the daughter of a coach, not a pastor,” you retorted before taking another drag. The corners of Simon’s eyes crinkled as he remained near you. He slid his hands together as both of you stood silently, watching the water of the lake catching the light of the full moon.

“I’m sorry if I was being too forward the first time we met,” he sighed. You gave him an unreadable look before exhaling out a long trail of smoke.

“You’re fine,” you said. Simon turned towards you.

“No, really. I should've just-” he said as his eyes wandered around. You nudged his shoulder.

“I said it’s fine, Riley,” you huffed. His lips curled up as you both went back to staring at the lake.

“Did my dad tell you that he’d cut off your dick?” you asked bluntly. Simon nearly choked on his spit. You cocked a brow, already getting your answer just from his pale face. You shook your head and sighed. “Sorry, he can get a little intense,” a small pink blush made its way across your face. Simon nodded.

“A little?” he muttered and rolled his eyes. You snorted, a genuine, small grin etching across your face. You were soon laughing, your bubbly chuckles falling across the landscape and drowning out the music. Simon found himself chuckling along with you, his face hurting from how much he was smiling.

Despite all the women he's been with, this had to be the first where he felt something genuine stir inside his chest. It wasn’t the drunk feelings he got whenever he’d lie in the afterglow-it felt deeper, pouring and coursing through his entire body.

And he realized something as the smoke from your lips wafted towards him: he wanted to feel that genuine warmth every second of his waking life.

You put out the cigarette on the deck before wiping an amused tear from your eye.

“Thanks, Riley. I really needed that,” you smiled. Simon beamed.

“No problem. Just come to me if you need a laugh. I've gotta funny face, anyway,” he commented. You snorted and lightly punched his arm.

"Not that funny looking," you smirked. Simon pretended to be offended before both of you laughed again. His face grew hot as you looked up at him. Your face looked so serene as you parted your lips. Simon tilted his head when the words came out as a garbled mess.

“You feelin’ alright, kid?” he asked with knitted brows. Your eyelids began to droop as you nodded.

“Just…dizzy…” you slurred as you wobbled around. Simon’s eyes widened as your legs suddenly crumpled beneath you. He was quick to snatch you in his burly arms.

"(Y/N)?" he asked. You rolled your head around, your eyes glazed over as you continued to slur. His eyes flicked over to a red solo cup resting on the ledge of the deck. Heat rose inside his chest as he gritted his teeth. He laid your head down on the deck, keeping his hand beneath it.

“(Y/N)? Can you hear me?” he asked, his heart sinking into his stomach. You gurgled weakly, eyes hazy and unfocused. “Fuck,” he hissed as he frantically looked around. A man seemed to be watching both of you from inside. He quickly ducked behind a group of women. Simon looked back down at you. His thumb stroked a tear that rolled down your cheek.

"Simon...'m scared," you sobbed quietly as your pupils became constricted.

"I know, hun. Just let me-" he remembered König sitting on the couch right next to the door. He looked back down at you.

“I’m going to get help. I’ll be at the door and I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?” he mumbled. You parted your lips, your head lolling to the side. Simon sprinted to his feet and wrenched the door open. König sputtered as Simon grabbed him from his chair, the woman shooting daggers at him. He led the giant man outside. König gasped when he saw your unconscious body.

“What happened?” he asked. Simon gripped his shoulders.

“I think (Y/N)‘s drink has been spiked,” he seethed. König’s face lost its color as you slurred out incoherently. Simon slid his car keys into König’s hand. “I need you to take her to the ER for me,” he said as he gripped his shoulders.

“What are you going to do?” König asked as he began to gently pick you up. Simon tightened his fist as he strode back into the crowd.

“I need to take care of something real quick,” he hissed. His head throbbed as he stomped and shoved his way through several people. Simon narrowed his eyes when he saw the familiar man rushing towards the side door. He gritted his teeth as he ran towards him. The man yelped as Simon landed a punch square across his cheek. Several women gasped and scattered as Simon pulled the man to his feet.

“Tell me what you put in (Y/N)‘s drink,” Simon growled as he shook the man’s collar. The dark-haired man spat in his face, blood and spit spraying across it.

“What drink, you arsehole?” he snarled back, though a small, knowing grin crept across his face.

“If you’re going to fight, then take it outside,” a frat member yelled towards him. Simon curled his fists in the man’s polo shirt.

“Gladly,” he said while tilting his head.

He dragged the man through the side door, punching him again across his other cheek. He watched in satisfaction as he fell to the ground, groaning while he cradled his face in his hands. Simon drove his large fist into the man’s chest, causing him to wheeze. He came down onto one knee, his voice sharp and acidic.

“Tell me what you put in her drink,” he said as he grabbed the man by his shaggy hair. The man winced. Simon gripped at it even harder. "I won't ask again," he warned. The man spat out another string of spit and blood.

"Fentanyl," he muttered. Simon's fists shook as he readied another blow.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Kyle gasped. Simon leaned his head towards him. Kyle stood with his mouth agape. Several people crowded and watched from behind. Simon glanced back down at the man. His face was covered in blood, his cheeks already swelling with bruises. The polo he grabbed him by was similar to the one Kyle wore.

“Ky-you gotta get this twat off of me! He's fuckin' delusional!” the man sputtered. Simon released his grip on the man. He fell back to the ground with a yelp. Kyle ran up to him.

“You alright, VP?” he asked. Simon frowned as he watched the man get picked up.

“I’ll be fine,” he glared at Simon. His eyes trailed down to see a piece of a plastic bag poking out of his back pocket.

“Wait,” Simon called as Kyle was escorting the man back into the house. Kyle scowled at him.

“I’m not waiting for anything, Riley. You nearly beat the shit out of our VP,” he spat. Simon stepped forward, causing the man to flinch.

“Check his back pocket, but don't touch anything if you find it” he ordered. Kyle twisted his lips while the Vice President released a laugh.

“Don't listen to this git, Garrick. He-“ Kyle's nostrils flared as he spun the man around and grabbed at his pocket. His eyes bulged when a bag filled with white, dusty powder slipped out. The Vice President’s face fell.

“That’s-That’s just for...personal use," he explained, his voice weak and shaky. Kyle’s brows furrowed as he threw the Vice President onto the lawn, his beaten and bruised body landing on top of the bag. The man hissed as he rose to his hands and knees.

Simon pulled out his phone and quickly texted König what you had consumed. Just as Simon put away his phone, the VP stood on his feet and swung his fist into his ribs. Simon groaned as he clutched his side, a dull ache reverberating across his skin.

“He’s getting away!” one of the women inside screamed. Simon grabbed his ribs, trying his best to run towards him. The Vice President was surprisingly quick, though. He looked back and smirked at Simon before suddenly running into a rough wall. He huffed as he fell back to the ground. Johnny stood with his hands on his hips, cocking a brow. The Vice President's bottom lips quivered.

"Please, you have to help me! These men are trying to frame me!" he begged as he clawed at Johnny's ankles. Johnny's shoulders bounced as he released a hearty laugh.

"Yeah? Then why are you running away?" he asked. The man's face grew pale as he was surrounded by the two men. Simon cracked his knuckles while Johnny leaned down. "Ever been to a rugby match?" Johnny grinned. The man whimpered.

+++

You blinked slowly, your eyes still somewhat unfocused. Price’s eyes became misty as he rose from his chair.

“Dad?” you asked with a hoarse voice.

“Pumpkin, thank God you’re alright,” the coach choked as he instantly rushed to your side. Your eyes were wide as he hugged you tightly.

“Dad, I-I’m so sorry. I tried to be careful like you taught me, but-“

“Hush, now. I’m so happy you’re safe,” he sniffed. Your eyelids fell as you silently cried, your father holding and rocking you gently. Simon watched from the doorway, his arms crossed.

After they taught the VP a lesson, they called the police. They promptly took the man into custody (though not without questioning his broken nose and several bruises). Simon had to ask to borrow Kyle’s car once they took the man away. He reluctantly agreed and yelled at Simon as he sped out of the parking lot. Relief washed over him when when the nurse said you'd be okay. König remained until he knew you were alright, trading Simon's keys for Kyle's. It was around one in the morning when Price showed up-his hair messy and face completely pale.

“Where’s my little girl?” he asked with a strained voice, his eyes weary and solemn. The men directed him to the front desk and a woman escorted all of them back.

Simon’s attention was snapped back to the present when someone clears their throat behind him. He turned. A woman wearing a police uniform cocked a brow at him.

“I’m detective Jones. Is this where Y/N is staying?” She asked. Simon nodded and let the man through. “Thanks,” Jones said in passing. Price pulled back, his hands squeezing your shoulders as the detective stepped into the room.

“Good afternoon, I’m detective Natalie Jones,” she said as she held out her hand. Price’s face grew stern as he shook Jone’s hand.

“John Price,” he said. Jones nodded.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask (Y/N) a few questions,” she said as she flipped open a dark notebook. Price squeezed your hand as his face hardened even more. “I understand your concerns of leaving her alone, sir, but I promise it won’t take more than fifteen minutes,” she explained. Price looked over at you.

“It’s okay, Dad,” you assured him weakly. He squeezed your hand again and sighed.

"I'll be right out in the hall if you need me," he said. You gave him a tired smile as he rose from his seat. Price nodded at the officer before walking into the hall.

Simon noticed the bags under his eyes. Jone's shut the door behind her as Price stood mere feet away from the young player. The sounds of doctors and patients, as well as various beeps, echoed in the stark hallways. The coach cleared his throat.

“Thank you for...helping (Y/N),” he said. Simon rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sure,” he replied. The two men shuffled awkwardly.

"Listen, I'm sorry I was kind of hard on you before," Price huffed. Simon raised a brow.

"Kind of?" he thought. Price bit the inside of his cheek as he placed his hands on his hips.

"It's just...(Y/N)'s all I have left. She's still my little girl to me, and I don't know if I'm ready to accept that she's become a woman," he sighed. Simon remained silent. Price leaned on the wall, staring into the closed door. "There's just so much out there that could hurt her, and I won't always be there to protect her," the coach's voice cracked as tears welled in his eyes.

Simon craned his neck and looked down at his feet. He slowly moved forward and hesitantly placed a hand on Price's shoulder. The coach flinched at the sudden contact, his eyes slightly red as he glanced over.

"Someone will always be there to protect her. She knows the entire bloody rugby team for Christ's sake," Simon said. Price's lips cracked into a miniscule smile.

"Right," the man sighed. Simon slid his hand from Price's tense shoulder. The door creaked open, followed by detective Jone's stepping out. Despite her composure, Simon could see the mist in her eyes.

"Mr. Riley, if it's alright I'd like to ask you a few questions as well," she said. Simon nodded.

"Alright," he said. She motioned for him to follow her. As he passed by your room, both of you exchanged glances. You gave him a bright, warm smile. He grinned back. Simon is a fullback-it's his job, after all.

Someone will always be there to protect her.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Tag list:

@notthatfanfictionwriter

[littlest-w01f]

Cures

Eris Vanserra x Celeste (Lucien x Oc's mini-series coming soon)

For @erisweekofficial

Eris week 2024 Masterlist

Day 3: Healing

Summary: After Eris was beaten bloody by his father, left abandoned in a shed, a witch finds him, she is more than willing to aid him

Cw: Wounds, blood

The sun had set hours ago, Eris was strung up in an abandoned shed miles outside any civilisation, crying was no use, and screaming for help wasn't one either, the cuts on his chest had slowly started to heal, the whip marks were cauterised, causing nothing but pain.

Eris hung limply from the chains, his head drooping forward as he struggled to remain conscious through the agony that wracked his body. The metallic scent of blood mingled with the musty odor of the decaying shed. Each labored breath sent fresh waves of pain radiating from his wounds.

Outside, the night pressed in, silent and uncaring. No saviour would come. He was utterly alone with his tormentor. A faint rustling came from the shadows at the back of the shed, his father returning. Eris tensed, dreading what new torments awaited him.

Heavy footsteps approached, hurried. "Oh, Mother," A soft voice, not his father. "What happened to you? Poor thing..." The voice tutted as gentle hands got him out of the chains.

When the female came into view, Eris' breathing got caught in his throat, her eyes were like pink diamonds, having little feline slits in them, hair to match, and her face was round, soft and innocent, contrasting her sharp eyes, concern etched over her features.

The young female, barely older than Eris himself, looked upon him with a mixture of shock, pity, and a hint of fear. Her large, gemstone-like eyes took in every detail of his battered form - the dried blood caked around gashes on his torso, the swollen bruises discolouring his skin, the vacant stare in his eyes. She let out a small gasp, covering her mouth with a delicate hand.

"Oh gods, what heartless creature did this to you?" She whispered, her voice trembling slightly. She glanced towards the door, she made up her mind, gently scooping him up into her arms as if he were a fragile doll.

Her touch, though gentle, sent jolts of agony coursing through his abused body. Yet there was something comforting about her warmth, her concern, it was a stark contrast to the cold brutality of his father.

"Who… who are you?" Eris managed to croak out, his voice raw from screaming. His eyelids fluttered as he tried to focus on her, each movement causing more pain. He winced, biting down on his lower lip to stifle a groan.

"You may call me Celeste," She spoke softly, "Who left you here? Not many Fae visit this part of the woods."

Celeste's name rolled off his tongue like a soothing balm, a stark contrast to the hellish reality of his situation. He could barely believe that such a kind soul existed amidst the cruelty of his world.

"My... Father... He brought me here," Eris murmured, his words slurred from pain and exhaustion. "He said I deserved punishment." He swallowed hard, his throat feeling raw and dry. "Why are you here? This place is dangerous…"

His gaze drifted to the door again, half expecting his father to burst in at any moment, only to find Celeste instead. It was confusing, overwhelming, yet somehow reassuring.

"I'm a witch," She admits casually, waving her hand to produce a bunch of different plants and salves.

Eris watched in awe as Celeste waved her hand, conjuring up veritable herbs and ointments. Witchcraft was often spoken of in hushed tones, seen as a threat to the established order. To see it before him now, used to ease his suffering, filled him with hope.

"Witchcraft is outlawed in Autumn..." He began weakly, his voice trailing off as he stared at the array of healing items. "But I don't care right now. Please, help me."

"Yeah, because we can just outlaw faeries." Celeste snorted, reaching for a paste to put on his cuts.

Celeste's flippant remark brought a wry smile to Eris' lips despite the agony. There was a spark of defiance in her tone, a refusal to be cowed by the oppressive forces that ruled their lands.

As she applied the cooling paste to his wounds, Eris felt a sense of peace wash over him. For the first time since being dragged into this nightmare, he allowed himself to relax, trusting in Celeste's ministrations.

"What's that?" He asked, pointing to a particularly vibrant dark purple herb. "It smells wonderful."

Celeste glanced up, her pink diamond eyes sparkling with amusement. "That's Nightshade Bloom. It has remarkable healing properties. Among other things... My friend from the Night Court got them for me."

"Nightshade? Isn't that poisonous?" Eris asked, intrigued despite his weakened state. He knew the basics of herbalism in Prythian from his studies, but this was beyond anything he'd encountered.

Celeste chuckled softly, her fingers deftly crushing the petals into a fine powder. "Poison and medicine are two sides of the same coin. It's all in how you use it." She mixed the Nightshade with a clear gel, forming a thick paste that glimmered in the dim light.

Carefully, she applied the mixture to Eris' worst wounds, humming a lilting tune under her breath. The pain receded, replaced by a warm tingling sensation that spread through his body. Eris found himself relaxing into her touch, lulled by the melody. "There now, when it dries, it means you've healed."

Eris watched, mesmerized, as Celeste worked her magic. With each application of the paste, he felt his body responding, the pain ebbing away, replaced by a strange sensation of renewal. Despite himself, he found his eyelids growing heavy, the rhythmic hum of her song lulling him into a state of peaceful numbness.

"I've never met a witch before," He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're… very different from what I imagined."

Celeste hummed as she moved behind him, taking care of his back, "What did you imagine witches look like?"

Eris sighed softly, the question drawing him further into a meditative trance. "An old crones, ugly and wicked," He confessed. "With pointed hats and brooms. But you… You're beautiful, kind."

A wave of warmth washed over him as Celeste touched his injured back, sending tendrils of pleasure weaving through his sore muscles. His eyes fluttered closed, his mind adrift on a sea of comfort and relief.

"And your magic… it's so gentle, so caring," he continued, his voice little more than a whisper. "Nothing like the wild storms or sudden lightning that people fear."

"Well, I could cause sudden lightening if that's what you prefer to see." Celeste joked. "Or flood this little shed."

Eris laughed weakly, the sound rough and ragged from disuse. There was something endearing about Celeste's brash humor, a stark contrast to the somber atmosphere of his predicament.

"That might startle me," He teased back, attempting to lighten the mood despite the discomfort still plaguing his body. "Although, I think I prefer your gentler magic."

His eyes remained shut, the sensation of the Nightshade working its wonders on his back too pleasant to risk opening them. The rhythmic cadence of her movements lulled him into a relaxed state, his worries drifting away like leaves on the wind. "Thank you, love."

"Of course, just don't tell anyone about this..." Celeste whispered softly.

"I won't..." When Eris opened his eyes, the mysterious which was gone, leaving him alone in the shed.

{General Taglist - @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-smut @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @velarisnightsky444 @minnieoo}

{Eris Taglist- @fxckmiup @slut4acotar @secret-third-thing @shadowsingers-mate @fieldofdaisiies @st4r-girl-official}

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Horizon (Chapter 1)

series masterlist

faerieprince!san x oc

royal/fantasy au, soulmate au

chapter wc: ~20k

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

chapter synopsis: gaeul gains consciousness after coming back from the dead, finding her magic reversing. the eight faerie princes and the princess can feel her presence disrupting the flow of nature. as wooyoung comes across gaeul and offers his help along with jongho, san arrives and finds that his connection with gaeul is unique. they start connecting dots and realise this might be the doing of an old enemy. seonghwa and yena worry it might be a result of a time anomaly. elsewhere, hongjoong sets to investigate the source and the case of the missing faeries with mingi, yeosang and yunho.

All Gaeul knew as dark spots started appearing in front of her eyes was the utter wrongness of this all.

All that she knew nothing of.

Nothing made sense anymore. The pain coursing through her body made her hurl her guts out into the potted plant in front of her and she almost fainted. She barely heard the passersby panic as they watched her skin turn from a dangerous pale to a flushed colour, to their surprise. Usually it was the other way.

Gaeul's head threatened to explode with the pain. She couldn't register anything at that moment. She didn't feel two wrinkly yet feminine hands grab her by the arms. She didn't feel someone carry her on their back. Neither did she recall how exactly she passed out.

She just knew that everything was wrong. She was supposed to be dead, yet she was breathing-

Everything was wrong, wrong, wrong-

—----------------

The glass of wine shattered dramatically on the floor, the red colour of the drink staining the white rug, to everyone's disappointment but more so surprise. San blinked a few times as if coming out of a trance.

"Are you okay?" Seokmin frowned, for once worried, unlike his usually cheerful and 'everything is fun and games unless someone is dying' manner. Though one could argue that he worried more than the rest. 

San nodded, resting his hand on the ash ends of his overgrown hair. He bent down to pick up the shards but one of the cleaners made it disappear with a wave of his hand. San nodded in silent thanks.

"You don't look like it, man, I'm just saying," San’s Right Hand glanced at Mingyu who nodded, the two of them ganging up to stare at San. "You've been more clumsy ever since we came back from Wooyoung’s kingdom four months ago."

“I think he’s been clumsier ever since Antares.”

Antares, in Hongjoong's Kingdom. The City of Lights, representative of the Prince of Light itself. The place where everything concluded. 

Everything, San summed it up in his head. The past two years had been the strangest of his life. He had somehow ended up meeting Yeosang's lost twin, Yena. The Princess of Space to the Prince of Spirit. San had also ended up helping the Lost Princess who wasn't aware of her identity at that time. During that process, he helped reclaim her powers and brought her back into everyone's life. Watched her battle her worst enemy who was once her best friend. Watched her fall in love with Seonghwa, the Prince of Dark. What a pair they made-

"San?" Mingyu called out and San hummed in response, aware that he hadn't really been listening to whatever he had said. "Where's your mind right now?"

"Away, away," San almost sang, playing it off with a smile sent at his guard. "Lost in the complexity of time and space."

"I get that," Seokmin agreed. "Sometimes when I'm working, this sudden realisation dawns upon me- ahh, that's what happened! You know? You suddenly recall something and realise how fate played us all for Princess Yena."

"Exactly," San laughed. "I mean, we did relive some piece of our life twice because she time travelled to save Seonghwa. I like to think back and wonder how it happened."

"You've been doing a lot of that lately. You don't look well, San," Mingyu was worried. "You've been way too clumsy on your feet. You'd think as the Prince of Earth, you'd be steadier."

"I've only grown weary," San got up, looking pointedly at the two of his closest court members. "I just need to rest. I'm absolutely fine. Don't get your knickers in a twist."

“There’s also the matter of the missing faeries- the number has risen from two to six in the last few months,” Seokmin sighed, showing San the reports. San scrolled through them, not really reading but thinking as Seokmin explained. “No traces detected. But a common occurrence is that all of them went missing in the thick of the forest or near the river. One witness reported some sort of a creature-”

“Could be a shapeshifter who’s doing the deed then,” San tossed the reports. “Send guards at the sites to investigate- and go along with them, the both of you. I need you two to report to me as soon as possible.”

Before the two of them could protest, San strolled outside the office, walking casually enough to his chamber. Once he was in the privacy of his room, he rushed to the sink and washed his face with cold water, watching his hands shake.

His heart had sank dangerously a few minutes ago- it wasn't the usual nervousness. It was a sign that something was wrong in this land- something so wrong unlike anything he had ever felt before. Maybe the ‘creature’ wasn’t even a faerie at all. Maybe that’s what it was.

Something was absolutely, utterly wrong. And it was calling out to him.

—----------------

"Madame! Wake up! Can you hear me?"

Gaeul clenched her eyes shut, wondering if she could cease to exist. But the voice only grew louder, forcing her to reality and she opened her eyes after a few not so gentle taps to her cheek.

"You need to drink this," the old woman forced the tip of the bowl to her mouth, making Gaeul swallow the bitter liquid that could only be medicine. She wanted to tell her that no medicine would work on her. How she knew that, she wasn't aware but she just knew, and she had only proven it in the previous few days as she threw up anything she ate, bleeding from her nose or eyes a few times a day, fainting horribly and whatnot. 

The healers believed she was cursed at this point. They had never seen a faerie who could be in this condition and not simply die. It's like the very thing that had forced her into this condition was also the thing keeping her alive.

"Where am I?" Gaeul asked, aware that she didn't have much time before she would start feeling sick again. She looked at the various shelves lined with jars of what looked like anything from food to medicine to potions. A few frames of what looked like her family sat on the table by the fireplace.

"It's my house but also a clinic," the woman passed her a wet towel to wipe her face.

"No, I mean… What city? What kingdom?"

"Oh dear," she tucked Gaeul's dark hair behind her ears. "You're in Nunki. Kingdom of Sagittarius? Prince Wooyoung's territory? Recall how you got here?"

Oh she recalled, alright. Somehow, she had found herself in the middle of a forest, no memory of how she had gotten there. Gaeul recalled bits and pieces- something that she wasn't sure was memory, past life, or worse. Or maybe it was both- she had no idea. All she recalled right now was what might have been her 'death'- killed by the man with hair the colour of blood. Why? She did not recall.

But if it really was a recent memory, how was she alive without a scar of that blow? How was she here, existing? Or was it just her imagination, a dream? Gaeul almost scratched her hair out and the old woman who had gone to get her some snacks frowned at her. 

"Maybe we should take you to the High Healers. I've never heard or seen something like this, I'll tell you the truth. I can't do much except give you rejuvenating potions."

"Uh, thank you, but I think I'll pass-" she coughed, her hand reflexively going to cover her mouth, feeling something wet- blood. 

Internal bleeding? Great, she thought. Just what she needed.

"Yeah… I think not," the woman rolled her sleeves determinedly, setting her herbs down. "Wash up if you can, I'm calling the carriage."

Gaeul decided she was too weak to protest so she got up with immense struggle and made it to the toilet, retching her guts out and crying before coming out.

"See? You look a mere second away from death. Let's go."

—--------------

“Ah, the air doesn’t smell right these days.”

“Maybe you should admit that your sense of smell has gotten weak,” Siyeon looked at her Prince. Wooyoung frowned at her.

“I’m the Prince of Air. There’s no way my sense of smell can get bad.”

“Maybe he just sniffed himself,” Changbin commented as he walked in front of the two, dumping their camping bags in front of them unceremoniously. “What do you think?”

Siyeon grinned and Wooyoung shook his head at his Right Hand and Guard. “You lot will never understand.”

After bickering back and forth for a few moments while the three set up their tent, Wooyoung went to wash his face at the stream just a few feet ahead while Changbin and Siyeon looked at each other, worried. 

“You’re thinking what I’m thinking?” Changbin asked.

“Last time he smelled something funny, it was Princess Yena. Remember how he complained about smelling something strange ever since she stepped on this continent?”

“That’s what I’m saying,” Changbin watched the Prince wipe his face and look at the mountains distantly. “I mean, everything’s been peaceful. It’s been more than two years, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Siyeon bit her lip nervously. “Let me casually ask him what exactly smells so strange to him later.”

“You two look awfully serious,” Wooyoung commented as he walked back, sitting in front of the wood that Siyeon had gathered. Siyeon sat cross-legged in front of him, lighting a fire with a click of her fingers. 

“We’re not always cackling like someone I know,” she grinned and Wooyoung rolled his eyes. 

“I have to admit that it’s nice to be out,” he leaned back, looking up at the cloudy sky. “I haven’t really had time to breathe ever since we came back from Antares, isn’t that so?”

“Yep,” Changbin said. “It was busier than we expected.”

“Well, the Lost Princess was found and now she rightfully sits on her throne. The people still have mixed feelings.”

“Can’t blame them, but if they knew of the hell that she, that you all have been through for peace to come… I think they will stop complaining.”

“Well, we can’t exactly tell people that the Princess went back in time and travelled different dimensions to defeat the monster- that darkling who could very well have destroyed our planet,” Wooyoung looked at Siyeon, having proven his point, inhaling deeply and wrinkling his nose. 

“You still smell something funny?” Changbin teased.

“What exactly can you smell?” Siyeon asked casually. 

“I don’t know, is what’s strange,” Wooyoung sighed, looking grim. “It’s not far. But it’s… nothing I’ve ever smelt before. With Yena, I could feel her magic and tell that it resembled Yeosang, but this? This just smells… wrong, somehow. Not of this world. I can’t really pinpoint the source either.”

Siyeon straightened- as the Prince’s Right Hand, jokes and teasing aside, she knew never to take anything he said unseriously. “Do you think it’s a darkling?”

“No, it’s not that,” Wooyoung looked sure, sniffing the air again for good measure. “If faeries, minus their magic scent, smell like honey, darklings have this inherent ‘burnt’ scent. Like burnt wood- not necessarily the bad kind. I can’t smell magic on whatever this thing is. I only smell… burnt honey. Does that make sense?”

Changbin couldn’t help but scoff at that. “A mix?”

“No, no, nevermind what I just said,” Wooyoung straightened. “This just smells… wrong. Like it’s not supposed to be here. Look at this,” Wooyoung slid his sleeve up, showing the raised hair on his arms. “I literally have goosebumps just after a whiff of it.”

“What if it’s your soulmate?” Siyeon wiggled her brows and Wooyoung narrowed his eyes at her.

“I don’t think my soulmate would smell wrong to me, Siyeon. Jokes aside, should we inspect?”

“Isn’t today your day off?” Changbin asked.

“Well,” Wooyoung got up, brushing his clothes, shaking his head so the dark tendrils of his hair messed up before he swept them back. “I don’t think us Princes can ever have a day off. And there’s also the matter of the missing faeries. There really can’t be peace even among the same race, huh?”

Siyeon scoffed. “Our fathers gave their lives to transport all faerie-kind to this planet, away from the cruelty of humans and darklings, and all it takes is two decades before we start acting like the very creatures we ran away from.”

“Let’s hope it is only a faerie, Siyeon,” Wooyoung looked grim. “Let’s hope.”

—----------------

Gaeul was pretty sure that she had passed out for most of the carriage ride before the woman stopped the carriage, waking her up. 

“We’ve travelled for six hours now. I stopped two hours ago too but you were out cold. Now is the time to wash up and eat something. We’re stopping at an inn, come on now.”

Gaeul sat up straight, waiting for her head to stop spinning. “Are we staying here for the night?”

“That’s right,” she said, extending a hand and Gaeul took it as she jumped down, grateful the woman had not put her in a dress- just loose trousers and a shirt. “Come on, let’s get you inside and see if you can eat.”

She ordered soup and bread for Gaeul and she played with the bread, not feeling very hungry though her stomach grumbled. “Why are you helping me?”

“Why not?” She said, urging Gaeul to eat. “I’m not going to ask you to return the favour, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m just doing my duty. I’m going to drop you off at the High Healers and then you can forget about me, if that’s what you wish.”

“No, no, I… I didn’t mean it like that. Thank you for helping me,” Gaeul folded her arms, hugging herself. “It’s just… I wish I hadn’t been a burden to you.”

“Well, thanks to you, I get to meet my old friends in the palace,” the woman smiled and Gaeul sighed internally.

The Palace. She had forgotten the High Healers resided in the same space as the Prince. She briefly wondered if she would get to see Prince Wooyoung from afar. 

“I can’t eat more,” Gaeul apologised and the woman told her not to force herself. She led her to a room, Gaeul taking the mattress and sitting down in front of the window, staring wistfully at the two suns that lit the sky, the purple one brighter than the orange, casting a dark but purple glow across the night sky with a slight orange tint. 

Now that her head was clearer, she could recall something that felt like her own life, yet she watched it through a third eye. Fragments of herself playing on the beach, using her magic to grow flowers out of thin air or breathe life into dying animals- was she a healer? She couldn’t exactly recall. Gaeul raised her hands in the air, willing some sort of magic to come to her but she felt worse than empty. There was this pit in her heart that she was sure had never been there before. And it felt wrong.

Gaeul tried harder but it only made blood trickle down her nose and before she could wipe it, she fainted into the endless bliss. 

—-----------------

Yena woke up covered in sweat and out of breath again.

She was glad Seonghwa was beside her. He was sleeping peacefully and Yena smiled at that, sliding out of the covers careful not to wake him up as she tiptoed to the bathroom, wanting to take off everything and just sit in some cold water. 

She let the cold water soak her body, sliding down the tub until the tip of her chin touched the surface. She shut her eyes and tried to recall if she had seen a nightmare, but as the several times before, she knew she had seen no dream or nightmare. She had simply woken up, feeling that something wasn’t right. 

This feeling wasn’t new to Yena at all. Her magic was very sensitive and she could sense something wrong even when her magic was blocked and she wasn’t aware of her identity. But this feeling was new, and it unsettled her in ways that she couldn’t explain. Like an impending doom. 

She almost jumped out of her skin when she felt Seonghwa’s hand on her hand, sighing in relief when she opened her eyes and saw it was only her husband. Seonghwa frowned but smiled. “What’s wrong, love? You didn’t even sense me coming.”

“I was just thinking,” Yena squeezed Seonghwa’s hand. 

“That same feeling again? Woke you up?”

“Yeah,” she slid further down in the tub, her blonde hair floating around her. “Something isn’t right in this… world right now, Seonghwa. I don’t know how big or small it is, if it’s here on this planet or in one of my dimensions or on another planet, but… something that is not supposed to exist is present- I can feel it. Tell me you feel it too.”

Seonghwa hesitated but finally nodded- Yena, of all people, should know. “I don’t know how exactly but I just know that it’s dark in nature- not necessarily a darkling,” Seonghwa added when he felt Yena tense. “It’s not that. It’s… something or someone, and if it’s a person, it’s not a darkling. I can’t say if it’s a faerie either. I just know that it is out of place. It shouldn’t be here.”

“So you can feel the darkness in magic too, Prince of Dark?”

“That’s the thing which is confusing me,” Seonghwa sighed. I can’t really feel any sort of magic. Not yet. Maybe it’s not magical, whatever this is.”

“Seonghwa,” Yena shut her eyes. She didn’t need to say more- Seonghwa could hear it anyway since he was touching her. Yena pushed her thoughts in his mind-

I’m so tired. Whatever this is… it’s wearing me out. I’m not ready for whatever it is. But… I know that I can’t ignore it either.

Seonghwa squeezed her hand, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on her lips. “You’re not alone this time. All of us are with you. Let me send a message to the others, see if they’ve felt something amiss too. Let’s rest for now, eh?”

Yena nodded, splashing water on her face that merged with the tears that rolled down her eyes before Seonghwa could see it.

—--------------------

Gaeul couldn’t breathe.

She woke up in the middle of the night, out of breath. The calm and chill breeze flowing through the open window did nothing to calm her down. She had to go outside, right now. She almost shook the woman awake but decided against it, stumbling down the stairs and making her way out and gasping for air as if she was being suffocated.

This wasn’t anything new. Many times her healer had caught her outside, unconscious, mostly a bloody mess. She would try to wake her up for a few moments before giving up and dragging her back. But this time…

Gaeul didn’t feel sick. For the first time in whatever length of time had passed, Gaeul suddenly could see and feel. Her head had never been clearer. 

As if in a trance, Gaeul looked at her hands, sinking to the ground and picking up a wilting daisy. Gaeul tried recalling how her magic worked- it was second nature to her, from what she had recalled so far.

Gaeul shut her eyes, trying to reach her heart and will her magic to unleash, but the pit, that goddamned endless pit in her heart called to her and-

Gaeul was down memory lane. The redhead who had killed her mercilessly- why? What crime had she committed? Was it a past life? If so, why did she not remember anything-

“Are you okay?” She heard the familiar voice of the healer and it pulled her out of her trance. Gaeul turned her neck back to look at the woman who approached her cautiously.

“I just needed some air,” Gaeul got up, exhaling. “Did I wake you up?”

“No, I just felt strange. Woke up to see you weren’t there with me so I decided to check. Are you sure you feel okay?”

“Yeah, I feel better, I was just-” Gaeul looked at the flower in her palm, her eyes widening with horror as she saw it was no longer wilted but dead.

“I was just looking at this… flower,” Gaeul managed to say out loud. The woman raised a brow, inspecting the flower in her palm. 

“This looks… why is this grey?” 

“That’s what I’m saying,” Gaeul locked eyes with her. “It’s beyond dead.”

—---------------

Jongho felt it then. The strange feeling that had been looming around him for a few months now… he couldn’t deny it anymore or shrug it off as some sort of a nervous spell. It was real and existing. 

And it was unnatural in every sense.

Jongho wiped sweat off his forehead and walked to the garden right outside his room. He had to check something and he hoped he would get answers. He sat down on the grass, closing his eyes and sending himself in a meditative state as his powers reached out and connected with everything that was natural around him.

He had no idea how long he stayed like that, but he could feel his skin warm up- the sun was probably out now which meant that he had been here for hours now. His magic reached out and further, linking with everything until he finally found the one thing that it didn’t connect with-

It made Jongho queasy in a matter of seconds and he tried wrapping his magic around it- it was a person, alright. He could hear the heartbeat. But the magic that it contained, it was no longer natural. And the very existence of this person…

His magic repelled and came back with a jolt, making Jongho gasp and clutch his throat as he normalised his breathing.

This wasn’t right. Something had gone incredibly wrong, and he needed to see the others right now. But first… he would go to Wooyoung and get his help in pinpointing who exactly this was.

Jongho got up, walking to his room, hearing the faint knocks on his door before it opened to reveal his Right Hand, Jooheon, who waved cheerfully but the smile fell off his face. “Have you been up all night? Because you look like a mess. Should I call the healers?”

“No, it’s okay,” Jongho almost tripped on his feet, laughing a bit. “Just used my magic all night, no big deal-”

Jooheon watched Jongho’s eyes roll back before he fell unceremoniously on, thankfully, the couch, though the position looked painful. Jooheon tsk-ed, shaking his head at how Jongho had tried shrugging it off. “Hyungwon! The Prince has fainted!”

Hyungwon peeked inside, narrowing his eyes at Jooheon who told him that Jongho had been awake all night. “Are you sure he didn’t just fall back to sleep after spending all his magic?”

He hadn’t.

—----------------

Yunho was the first one who received Seonghwa’s message. He read it over and over again, then tossed the paper into the nearest water body, dissolving it and making it one with the water.

If you have seen or felt something strange or wrong, unfamiliar or unnatural, whatever it was, report now.

Yunho couldn’t help but throw his head in his hands as he wondered how whatever he had felt months ago was related to this. He recalled the night from four months ago when he had started feeling a strange pit in his stomach, like a gut feeling that something was about to happen.

He had gone to the shore for a week straight, trying to feel it out, but it was just so unfamiliar. He had no idea what it was. Nobody around him felt it, so he wondered if it was just inside his head. He wondered if he needed to meet up with his friends and had been lonely recently.

He met up with Mingi. He stayed in his kingdom for two days. He didn’t feel anything there, but as he travelled back, the feeling grew stronger and stronger. He tried to find the source, swam endlessly in the ocean but to no avail. 

And then one day, as quick as it had appeared, it disappeared completely. Yunho wondered then- had someone practised dark magic? 

Somehow, the feeling reminded him very much of the one he’d got when Yena had been dumped in the middle of the ocean after jumping back in time and Yunho, unaware of her existence, had known a part of him was in danger and had gone to save her without knowing who he was saving.

Now he felt that he was in danger. Everyone was. It was like the same feeling yet its meaning was the opposite.

It felt wrong.

And last night, he had felt it briefly again. He had wondered if he was flipping but now he knew that he was still sane, alright. 

Yunho sighed, going to his room and picking up a pen, beginning to write on the note.

Seonghwa and Yena.

Something is not right. I can’t explain it here, but I have a feeling that it’s connected to all of us. We have done something wrong.

—----------------

Gaeul couldn’t believe what she just did. 

After summoning up her magic for the first time in as long as she could remember, she breathed death into a flower instead of life. She couldn’t believe her eyes. 

And it didn’t stop at that. When Gaeul followed the old woman inside and she touched her forehead to heal her, the woman jolted back as if she had been hit by an electric current. 

“What have you done?” She simply asked before she fell unconscious. Gaeul almost thought she had killed her too, but when her panic wore off she saw the healer’s chest still rising up and down, though slow enough to call for some medical attention. However, Gaeul was in no state to try that. She wasn’t even sure if she was a danger by simply being near. So Gaeul did what she had been doing for a while now- she ran.

She couldn’t risk being discovered anymore. She was a danger to all the living beings around her- her magic was getting out of control and as she dived deeper into the forest, she realised the trees around her that were unfortunate to have touched her were all wilting and dying as well.

She was death itself.

Gaeul had no idea how long she ran but she stopped when she heard the faint footsteps of men and a horse. Gaeul hid behind a tree, careful not to touch it. She peeked to see the two figures clad in black, muttering something. 

Gaeul decided it was time to calm herself before she did any more damage. She shut her eyes and inhaled, breathing deeply in.

Everything would be okay. She would be okay. She would go to the High Healers herself. She would figure this out. There was no reason to give up yet-

She heard- no, felt something whip through the forest behind her-

“What have we got here?”

Gaeul’s eyes flew open- she hadn’t even heard the men come in front of her. The other man scanned her rather slowly, up and down. She gulped. 

“What’s this pretty little thing doing in the middle of the forest at this hour?”

This wasn’t good. Her calm heart started beating rapidly again and she could feel the magic stirring in her stomach- perhaps their horse felt it too, because it panicked as soon as their eyes met. One of the men tried to hold its reins but the horse ran in the opposite direction, making the man follow him. The other who simply watched shook his head. 

“He always gets unlucky at times like this,” he scoffed, but it changed into a smirk that made Gaeul draw back until her back touched the tree. “Perhaps, I can offer you some help-”

She felt something whoosh past where the horse and man had just been running off to. The man in front of her turned too, frowning but dismissing it as nothing. Gaeul decided to use the distraction to her favour- heavens knew what prowled in the forest at this hour.

“I’m- I’m good,” Gaeul managed to say, “I’ll be on my way.”

Gaeul started turning away, wanting to run, but the man grabbed her arm and Gaeul tried snatching it with a glare, but he pulled her forward. 

“Now, now,” he whispered, “Be a good girl for me, will you?”

Something went off inside Gaeul. She nodded and grabbed his other hand, and shut her eyes, sending her magic through, and it wasn’t until she heard the man gasp for breath that she opened her eyes to see that he had shrivelled, just like the flower.

That was not what Gaeul had intended to do. She dropped her hands but the remains of her magic inside the man made sure that every last ounce of life was sucked out from him. Gaeul’s eyes blurred and she started running away, unable to breathe or run properly, but she couldn’t stop.

She had just killed a man.

She had not just killed. She had done something else. 

She slowed down and spotted a set of yellow glowing eyes growing closer with every second, eyes that had to be larger than her hands. The sinister feeling of the creature and the magic inside her was so overwhelming that she welcomed unconsciousness.

—-------------------

Yeosang felt it the minute that it happened. 

Someone had died a horribly gruesome death- nothing like he had felt before.

As the Prince of Spirit, he didn’t feel everyone’s death. That would be too much for him. But sometimes, the spirits who were still in pain after their death… he felt that. He didn’t share their pain but he could feel that they were hurt. 

Yeosang was still lying on his bed, having woken up from his sleep the moment he felt it. He decided to check and see if he could get answers. Yeosang shut his eyes and focused on the deepest part of his mind, which was when his own spirit dissociated from his body and his soul shifted to the dimension that was a gateway for souls itself.

The spirit wasn’t far- not for Yeosang, who could jump directly to the spirit he wanted to meet. Yeosang tried doing that, but to his surprise, it didn’t work. His heart sank- something was wrong- not with him, but with the entire situation.

Yeosang roamed around in that dimension- it was all bleak and cloudy with no clues to what direction you were travelling in. He thought for a few moments and decided he would take another way- jump to the spirit nearest to his target.

But as soon as he did that, Yeosang fell on his knees. He could feel the spirit’s pain now. Yeosang struggled to breathe, getting up on his feet with immense effort and almost crawling towards the source.

If Yeosang was in his body then, he would have thrown up after seeing the grey ‘corpse’ that he saw. There was absolutely no way- the spirits that walked this dimension carried no scars of their life. But somehow… 

“What happened?” Yeosang asked the walking corpse- its eyes were sunken and the only thing that gave indication of life. The skin was grey, hair burnt, all bones and skin.

The poor spirit tried speaking but it looked like it no longer held that ability. Yeosang sighed, walking to the spirit and touching it- he felt the unnaturalness of whatever had hurt it. 

“I can rid you of your pain, if you don’t wish to walk in this dimension eternally like this. It is time to make a decision- do you want to stay because of some unfinished business, move on to a place I cannot guarantee might be heaven or hell, or cease to exist?”

The spirit held up three fingers. Yeosang nodded, touching its forehead and watched it disappear- not into smoke like spirits usually did, but into ashes.

Yeosang prayed no one else would meet a fate like him.

—-------------------

Mingi couldn’t sleep- not after feeling a soul burn twice.

Ever since Mingi had saved Yena from being their darkling enemy’s hostage and Yena had accidentally taken Mingi to another timeless dimension, Mingi could feel magic deeper than ever. He always thought being the Prince of Fire meant fire on the surface, the element of fire, but it was more than that, he learned after. 

The first time he experienced a soul burning was when Yeosang had done the ‘soul extermination’, as Mingi dubbed it. Mingi had woken up with something like hot flashes, and no amount of cold showers could make him feel better. He talked to Yeosang, who was living nearest to him as they shared a continent. Yeosang then explained that some spirits in one of his dimensions could turn evil or become a threat if they stayed for too long and refused to move on. In cases like these, Yeosang would ‘kill’ the spirit. Yeosang was surprised to learn that it felt like burning- but how Mingi could feel it, he had no idea.

“Must be because of Yena and staying in that dimension for too long,” Yeosang had told him. “When you are somewhere you are not supposed to be, you live with the consequences. Looks like you can feel the fire inside of a soul now, Mingi.”

He was right. Mingi could feel when a living soul was burning with too much magic, something the possessor’s body couldn’t handle. Mingi could also feel whenever Yeosang burnt a spirit.

But he had never felt a soul burn twice- and both of those felt wrong in a way. Unnatural. Yeosang burning a spirit never felt wrong.

Mingi got up and decided to write a fire message to Yeosang. 

Not sure if this was normal, but a soul burned. Twice. It felt wrong. Did you mess up or something? Because I’m getting a very strange feeling.

Mingi tossed the paper into the air and it caught flames, burning and disappearing. He waited for a reply, and when he got it, his heart sank to his feet.

You’re right. It is wrong and unnatural. This wasn’t me. Something’s walking around burning souls from the inside out. Not like you- not with fire. It’s like someone breathed death into the soul. I’m sending a message to Seonghwa- maybe he or Yena knows something. You should talk to Hongjoong- he might have something related to this in his big old library.

Mingi decided to send a fire message to Hongjoong in the morning- he wasn’t sure if he was awake and had felt whatever had happened.

—-----------------

Hongjoong felt everything that happened.

It was the one power he wished he didn’t possess. He was the Prince of Light. That didn’t mean that he had to know if everything was right wherever light touched a life.

But it did. And it kept him awake more nights than he had slept peacefully in his life.

The boys- the Princes always made fun of how Hongjoong could pass out anywhere. How Hongjoong always looked like he was tired and didn’t get enough sleep. He never told them they were right- he never got enough sleep. Not since Yena went missing when she was only two. Hongjoong was three then, and he hadn’t known then but when Yena was found and everything fell back in place, he finally started getting better sleep. He searched his library for old records and realised that put simply, the reason he never got to get enough sleep in the first two decades of his life was… Yena.

When he told Yena, she couldn’t stop laughing. And then Hongjoong couldn’t stop laughing because of how mad all of this was. 

But after everything fell back in place, he slept well for a few months. He would only feel strange when someone’s magic had problems or someone tried a silly trick. Nothing that he couldn’t ignore now, given years of practice.

A few months later, he felt the strangest he had ever felt in his entire life- perhaps even more than when the darkling used his magic openly to kill. He immediately checked with Seonghwa and Yena to see if everything was fine, but they weren’t the reason this time. And they had felt it too.

Hongjoong told them not to worry about it, that sometimes, in one of the many dimensions that layered this planet, something goes wrong. It’s natural.

But this feeling was anything but natural. 

So he decided to investigate on his own. He couldn’t pinpoint a source and there was no use travelling when he had a kingdom to run. He decided to check the records then.

But it had been months and he had found nothing, and the feeling only grew until tonight, when he felt that something had shifted in the air, in magic itself. Something was not where and how it was supposed to be.

He was pretty sure he was going to get a message from one of the Princes soon. There was no way that he was the only one feeling this.

—-----------------------

Gaeul woke up not because of the loud chirps of the birds but because every part of her body was aching immensely. She sat up with much struggle, lost for a few blissful moments as she looked around her before the events of last night made her put her head in her hands and sigh.

She had just killed a man. And… there was something that approached her- a monster that might have just spared her life.

Gaeul looked around her- the grass was still green, the flowers and plants still alive. Cautiously, she plucked a wild flower from the ground and held it for a few moments.

Nothing happened.

Good, she thought. I hope I never get that magic back.

Her mouth felt parched and her stomach felt tight. She shut her eyes, listening to the sounds of nature- her fae senses still worked perfectly for some reason. She could hear some sort of water body nearby so she decided to follow the sound. 

She was on her own now with no idea of which direction she had gone. She could be straying away from the Palace, for all she knew. But then… she wondered if she wanted to endanger the innocent healers there as well. 

Plus… the Prince lived there. She was pretty sure he was strong enough to kill her with just a wave of his hand, or maybe even a mere thought. She gulped, not sure if she wanted him to do exactly that or if she wanted to run away from it.

Gaeul walked for a few hours without stopping, without thinking about her magic in case it rose back from the pit in her heart. When the sound of water became louder, she practically ran in joy, stopping at the edge of River Al-Ard, looking far into the distance at the mountains of what could only be Rukbat- the capital. The place where the Prince resided.

Gaeul’s destination.

As she washed her hands and face and sat down, sinking her feet in the water, she wondered if she was worth saving. She could not figure out if the memories she had were actually her own or hallucinations at this point. But what she was sure of was that no one cared for her. She was lost. 

And she was a danger to everyone. To herself too.

Gaeul looked up at the white fluffy clouds, smiling for the first time since she could recall. Time had only made her more miserable. Maybe she should put an end to all of it.

After all, this was a nice spot to die. 

Gaeul started sinking herself down and down into the river, until the water came to her chin. She looked up for the last time, smiling as tears ran down, before she fully submerged herself into the water-

“Not so easily, you won’t!”

Gaeul panicked, thinking someone must have tracked her down after finding the poor man she had killed. She risked a one second eye contact with whoever had called her, finding not one but three people. She instantly dived deeper in the river.

“I got this,” Changbin started towards the river but Wooyoung grabbed his arm, shaking his head.

“She’s going to kill you if she touches you, I can feel it,” Wooyoung looked as grim as he sounded. “She’s not going to drown to her death.”

“So we stand here and do nothing?” Siyeon asked.

“Just don’t get any closer than this and let me handle it,” Wooyoung warned, hands raised. He made sure the girl trying to drown wouldn’t be able to lose her breath. That was all he could do for now.

Gaeul, meanwhile, wasn’t surprised, but for a different reason. She recalled what her healer had once told her- that whatever was killing her was also keeping her alive. Gaeul thought it was her magic keeping her alive.

She wasn’t entirely wrong.

She felt the magic rolling uncontrollably in her stomach and she dreaded whatever was going to happen. 

This was a bad idea.

Gaeul knew her magic was going to explode with a burst, killing everything near it. So she dived up, trying to be faster than her magic, and she only had time to scream ‘RUN!’ before she folded in herself and her magic burst with a wave.

Wooyoung immediately drew a shield around the three of them but that wasn’t enough to hold him steady. He was thrown with the others a good few feet away, and when it was over and they got to their feet, they gasped collectively.

Everything within a few miles radius had… died. The trees were grey- Wooyoung had never seen anything like it. Everything looked like it was going to turn into ash with one touch. Remains of what could be fishes and other sea creatures unfortunate enough to have been victims of that magic floated at the surface of the sea. The birds fell as ashes floated timelessly in the air and Wooyoung touched a few, frowning because it resembled snow. 

Gaeul looked around helplessly, tears of relief rolling down her cheeks when she saw the three were alive, mixed with tears of regret- she did not want to live anymore. Not after this.

“You’re lucky I’m the Prince of Air,” Wooyoung walked carefully towards her. “Because it looks like you need help.”

Gaeul gulped as she heard that- Prince Wooyoung had somehow found her. Was she some sort of a threat that he needed to exterminate-

“I’m not going to hurt you,” his voice was calming.

“I’ll hurt you,” Gaeul’s voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t want to, but I don’t know what’s wrong with me, my magic isn’t right- I-”

“Slow down, slow down,” Wooyoung nodded. “First, get out of the river. Come on, take my hand.”

“You’ll die if I take your hand.”

“I won’t,” the Prince passed Gaeul a warm smile. “I can feel that your magic is spent. You’re as normal as me right now.”

Gaeul looked at him sceptically- he was the Prince. He wasn’t normal anyway. Hesitating, she swam forward and took his hand, letting him drag her out of the river. She met eyes with the others who looked like they were ready to kill her this instant.

“Relax, they’re only my guard and my Right Hand,” Wooyoung passed the two a look and they shrugged, looking helplessly at each other. “Let me dry you.”

With a wave of his hand, all the water had dried from her skin and clothes. Gaeul nervously looked down and then around her- she really had sucked the life out of everything-

Is that why she was getting better? Healthier? No, no-

“Let’s get out of here first, shall we? We just crossed the river to come here by that boat-” Wooyoung pointed at his left where at a distance the boat was tied. “Looks like we need to get back anyway. We can talk while we row.”

Once settled in the boat, Changbin and Siyeon rowing, Wooyoung sat in front of Gaeul, scanning her- she was a faerie alright. Not an ounce of darkling blood in her. But her magic wasn’t right.

“I could sense you, perhaps because you were near me. Your magic- you weren’t born with this, were you?”

“I used to breathe life into things,” Gaeul smiled helplessly. “Looks like I suck the life out now.”

“Interesting,” Wooyoung stuck his tongue in his cheek while he scanned Gaeul again. Siyeon kicked his back lightly, muttering not to freak the girl out. Wooyoung shook his head. “So, how did you get here?”

“I don’t know, actually. I’m really confused about why and how I’m here. I think I lost my memories or something too. All I remember is that a few months ago, one day, I found myself at the beach- somewhere near Ascella. I literally just fell on the sand from nowhere- and I’ve been really sick since then. I keep coughing blood and fainting, but I’m clearly not dying. I went from being bones and skin to this-” she looked down at herself. Better than skin and bones. 

“Do you remember who you are?”

“That’s the thing,” Gaeul sighed. “I don’t know if what I remember is a memory or a past life or something I made up.”

“I see, the healers might be able to help with that,” Wooyoung nodded. “Tell me about your magic now.”

“I didn’t know about this until last night. All my magic has done so far is make me sick. I was actually travelling to the Palace with a healer- she thought that the High Healers could help me. Last night, I held a wilting flower and tried making it alive like I used to- I think I used to,” Gaeul shook her head. “Anyways, the flower turned grey like now. And then… I think I hurt my healer too. She fainted but thankfully she was alive. But then…”

“You killed someone a few hours ago, didn’t you?”

Siyeon rolled her eyes at how blunt Wooyoung was. The girl clearly wasn’t handling all this well. She wiped her forehead and eyes and then looked down.

“I never meant to. I felt threatened, and it just happened- it wasn’t in my control. That’s why I panicked. I’ve only ever healed things- I’ve never hurt them. And now-”

Gaeul couldn’t hold back her silent sobs anymore and she hid her face in her hands. Wooyoung looked back at Siyeon and Changbin who were clapping sarcastically. 

“Good job,” Siyeon muttered, shaking her head.

“What?” Wooyoung sighed. “I need to get the facts straight before I risk my healer’s lives, don’t you think?”

“He’s right,” Gaeul wiped her face, her eyes steadfast now. “I don’t wish to put anyone else at risk. If you think it’s wise to get rid of me, then do so. I have nothing holding me back.”

Wooyoung sighed, looking at her dark eyes- they had a tinge of grey, looking perhaps as hopeless as she felt. Wooyoung wasn’t sure if she was as innocent as she claimed she was. “You are a threat, yes, but that doesn’t mean you get to die so easily. Every life is precious and meaningful and so is yours. We need to look into whatever’s up with you, because you know it feels unnatural, your magic, right? It feels-”

“Wrong, I know,” Gaeul looked at him to his surprise. “Everything inside me is screaming that this is wrong, whatever happened to me. I’m not where I’m supposed to be. Nothing’s right. I think… you’ll need to look into my past if you want to see the origin of this.”

“Look into your past, huh?” Wooyoung looked at Changbin. “Now which one of us could do that again?”

—-------------------

To say that San was in a state of frenzy was a severe understatement. 

In the past few days, he had been beyond restless. He was not focusing on his work to the point that his Right Hand, Seokmin complained that San should just step down since Seokmin was the one doing all the work anyway. However, he was worried too- he had never seen his Prince like this. 

San tried explaining it to him, to himself, but it wasn’t that simple. He wasn’t sure if he had felt whatever this thing was before he had visited Rukbat four months ago but he was sure that thing was around there, and him going to Rukbat had somehow made both him and that thing restless. How the two were connected, he had no idea.

But after the amount of magic and wrongness he felt in the matter of the last 24 hours, he knew he needed to get back to Rukbat. And he couldn’t let anyone know. 

Truth be told, he himself wasn’t sure what he was about to do. He had no idea who or what he was looking for. Something in his mind, in his heart, screamed at him to go, go, go. Go and find whatever was wrong and make it right. He simply had to trust his gut at this point, trust the thing tugging at him. 

So San sat down still for the first time in a while as he etched out a plan in his head. He would leave at night when everyone thought he was asleep, take the secret tunnel out (he wasn’t even sure if he could call that tunnel ‘secret’ anymore since not only his Right Hand and Guard but one of his healers and Princess Yena knew of it too) and then…

Take a carriage? Walk? It would take far too long.

He needed Yena to portal him. That was the quickest and safest route. But he wasn’t sure Yena would understand or agree. Especially after the message he had gotten from them. And after all that had happened with Yena… he couldn’t ask that of her.

He needed to do this himself.

He waited rather patiently for the night to approach and everyone to sleep, which was when he packed a bag and took the tunnel out, went to the nearest stable and took a horse and started riding towards Rukbat.

He prayed he would get there before things went more wrong than they already were. 

—-------------------

Jongho could feel each and every moment of the magical blast that had killed so much. It didn’t hurt him, and he was glad it didn’t because feeling its existence alone made his heart ache. 

He wasn’t sure why exactly he had fainted earlier in the morning too. He was the Prince of Nature- doing magic while meditating and stretching his vision was like second nature to him. But this time, something fought back. And that was as dangerous as it could get not only for him, but all the Princes. Perhaps, he thought, Princess Yena could fight back against something like this. She was the most experienced in that department. 

When he gained consciousness after fainting, he learned that he had been out for about six hours. That was a long period of time and even had his healer worried because the most he had been out was two hours, and that was when he had spent all his energy doing similar magic.  

Jongho tried to explain to Jooheon why he needed to get to Wooyoung as soon as possible. Jooheon was suspicious about all of this, and he kept insisting it was a trap.

“Look, all I’m saying is that if you felt it, Prince Wooyoung must have felt it as well. He’ll take care of it- no scratch that. You both should sit this one out. This feels like a trap- especially with the recent problem that we have going on.”

“Did you feel it?” Jongho asked and Jooheon shook his head no. “That’s what I’m saying. This is like a cry for help, not a trap. As for the missing faeries… I didn’t really feel anything there.”

“That’s like, the first trick in the book of traps,” Hyungwon, who was reading a book, peeked up. “Are you seriously risking yourself for whatever this… person is?”

“In risking myself, I save a lot of lives that could possibly be lost if we don’t get this under control,” Jongho was groaning with frustration now. “If you’re not coming along, I’m going by myself-”

“Hey, hey, now that’s not what we meant,” Jooheon laughed helplessly, looking at Hyungwon who only shrugged. “I’ll take care of things here. Take Changkyun at least. And Hyungwon too.”

“You ready?” Jongho asked Hyungwon and he rolled his eyes.

“This feels an awful lot like the time we went along with Princess Yena,” he said and Jongho laughed, agreeing. Changkyun arrived, all dressed up for-

“We’re not going into battle, dammit,” Jongho laughed but Changkyun wasn’t having any of it. He only shrugged and Jongho nodded, urging Hyungwon to follow him out. They were going to Rukbat and it wasn’t very far from here- a long ride and a river was what separated them. 

“Do you think we should let the others know too?” Jongho wondered out loud when they settled into the carriage, the horses made specially for quick transport by magic speeding twice as fast as a normal horse. “I mean, Seonghwa did order us to report anything strange.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Hyungwon scoffed. “You want to find the person first before you give them anything.”

“Yeah, you got me,” Jongho shifted in his seat, running a hand through his red hair. “It’s just that I don’t want them to worry about something that we’re not sure about. I’m pretty sure Wooyoung ignored their message too, so there’s that as well.”

“If only you Princes could communicate better,” Hyungwon almost laughed. “Would have saved you a lot of trouble, wouldn't it?”

Hyungwon was both right and wrong. The Princes and the Princess were all anxious about whatever was ‘wrong’ now, trying to either pinpoint an origin or search for it. One could argue that providing them with more information would worry them more, especially if it was a threat that could be easily exterminated. However, no one knew what exactly that threat was- not even Wooyoung who was present with that said threat.

—-----------------

“Well,” Wooyoung sighed, a grimace on his face as he poked one of his healers in the arm, lying unconscious on the floor. “This didn’t go as planned.”

Gaeul had her head in her hands. “I didn’t mean to- I was asleep and he came to change my bandages or something. I got scared.”

Gaeul and Wooyoung had arrived at his castle a while ago and Wooyoung had let her admire the glass structure that was the castle before escorting her to the basement where she would be staying, saying something about how he needed to get her in there before her magic replenished. It seemed like she wasn’t faring well though.

“Progress though,” Wooyoung passed a smile though Gaeul could swear he was mocking her. “At least he’s not dead.”

“He would have been if not for Jiu there,” Gaeul pointed at the woman sitting bored at the other end of the room. 

“That’s right,” Jiu looked serious. “I was waiting for her to admit that before I interrupted.”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, “I guess it was a good idea to have you here after all.”

“Definitely,” Jiu looked at Gaeul and Gaeul hated that there was pity in her eyes, though she could not blame her. She herself was to blame after all. “Can we change shifts now? I need to catch up on my sleep.”

“Go on then,” Wooyoung dismissed her and she gladly left. Wooyoung turned his attention to Gaeul. “How are we feeling today?”

“The same?” It came out more as a question. “I don’t feel anything much here- the basement is… not as suffocating as it first sounded. In fact, I’m more relaxed now.”

“And that was the purpose of keeping you here,” Wooyoung took a seat, running a hand through his dark hair, the faint light in the room making the golden streaks in his hair shine. “Anyways, Jongho is arriving soon. I thought I’d let you know.”

“Prince Jongho?”

“The one and only,” Wooyoung grinned. Gaeul visibly gulped- being in the presence of one of them was intimidating enough. “He’s the Prince of Nature. If anyone can help you figure your magic out, it’s him, since you presumably had similar magic as him.”

“Presumably… So Yoohyeon still didn’t get past my memories?” Gaeul asked, referring to the healer who had first attended to her. 

“Surprisingly, no,” Wooyoung sighed as he nodded. “Yoohyeon is an expert at healing amnesia and similar disorders. There must be something preventing her from accessing your memories-” he paused when he recalled how San had been the one able to access Yena’s memories when no one else could. He wondered if he should call him.

“Something wrong?” Gaeul asked cautiously, tucking her hair behind her ears. 

“Nothing, I just had… an idea. Anyways, I came here to let you know about Jongho, and… warn you about something. If your magic is as threatening as we think, we might have to put you in the cell here in the basement- it is laced with nullifying magic. It’s not as scary as it sounds- you just won’t feel your magic. Are you okay with that?”

Gaeul thought for a few moments- the last thing she wanted was to be a danger to the Princes. Of course she was okay. “Nothing will go wrong though, I hope?”

“I’m hoping that is so,” Wooyoung got up when he heard a knock on the door and let the guards who were carrying three trays filled with a variety of dishes inside the room. “Let’s eat while we talk.”

Gaeul could get used to this, she thought. Prince Wooyoung- or Wooyoung, as he insisted he be called- wasn’t as scary as she thought. He was easy to talk to. He didn’t make her feel like she was an alien, which truthfully, everyone else made her feel like. And he was humble. He ate with her at least once a day for the three days she had been here. She wondered if all the Princes were like this, and sometimes she would ask Wooyoung about his life. He would answer without hesitation most of the time.

“If it is a memory, I remember the time you came to the beach- near Ascella, when I was 10,” Gaeul scooped some chicken and mashed potatoes in her plate and Wooyoung raised a brow- Gaeul hadn’t talked much about herself so far. “I think I lived somewhere near there. It’s where I found myself in this state.”

“I’ve only been to Ascella beach a handful of times, and yes, I did visit when I was 10- we’re the same age, it seems.”

“I remember something about how you caused some sort of a storm and scared everyone present. I, unfortunately, was one of them.”

“Ah, so it was that time,” Wooyoung laughed. “I blame San- he was there with me too.”

“Prince San was with you at that time?” Gaeul wowed. “So I saw him too?”

“You must have if you saw me,” Wooyoung took a bite of the bun, thinking. “San pissed me off so I threatened him with a storm. He threatened to let the sand swallow me. We cooled down then.”

Gaeul almost giggled, holding herself back, and Wooyoung looked at her, amused. “You know, you’re allowed to laugh in my company.”

“Actually… I haven’t laughed in a while,” Gaeul admitted. “So… I think this was a memory, right?”

“Definitely, which means what you remember is mostly memories. Do you remember your parents?”

“I think I do. My father was a healer, but he died when I was 15. My mother… She followed soon after. My aunts and uncles took care of me after that.”

“What’s the last memory that you remember?” Wooyoung asked. 

Gaeul thought for a moment- it was the memory that confused her the most, that made her question if she remembered a past life or something. “I think I was travelling in this kingdom… somewhere east. I think I saw this red haired guy do something- I can’t recall. All I know is that I saw his eyes glow before he killed me-”

“You saw his eyes glow?” Wooyoung frowned. This sounded an awful lot like someone he wished he didn’t know.

“If I’m not tripping, yes,” Gaeul’s eyes were steel- she knew it sounded unbelievable but she remembered this moment the most clearly. “They glowed like gold. Like-”

“Amber eyes, huh?” Wooyoung’s suspicions were confirmed. “Red hair and eyes that change to amber. Who are you, Gaeul?”

Gaeul frowned and then the door opened, revealing dark hair and a very handsome man walked in, eyes wide as he looked from her to Wooyoung and then back.

“Nice timing, Jongho,” Wooyoung didn’t finish his plate- he had no appetite anymore. “Kieran’s playing with us even from another world.”

—-------------------

Hongjoong was startled, to put it simply, when Yena and Seonghwa portalled right in front of him, in his room. He could never get used to the jumpscare he got, and he was positive that one day he was going to pass away because of a heart attack due to Yena startling him.

“A little warning is always nice!” Hongjoong yelled at the two, clutching his heart and exhaling, and Seonghwa chuckled. 

“We did send a little warning,” Yena pointed out. “Why didn’t you reply? It has been three days. This is so unlike you- I thought something happened.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve just been… busy,” Hongjoong shrugged as he ran his eyes around the room, Yena and Seonghwa following. There were books, scrolls, maps, everything scattered around him. Yena skimmed through a few notes that made no sense to her. Hongjoong got up, feeling guilty because Yena looked like she was actually worried that something happened to him. “I’m sorry, come here.”

Yena pouted before walking to Hongjoong and hugging him, Seonghwa joining the two as well. “You should have let us know, Hongjoong.”

“Well, now that you’re both here, I’ll just tell you in person,” Hongjoong pushed a few books aside to make room on the floor. “So here’s how it is.”

Hongjoong started explaining how there were no records of such magic existing, but he didn’t think it was something natural- as in, no one of fae blood could be born with such a power. “A darkling would have been a different matter, but I believe it’s a faerie. Darklings feel different, but they don’t feel wrong, as you know.”

Yena knew that all too well. She nodded, tensing. Seonghwa put a hand on her back- some scars never faded. “So how would a faerie possess such magic in the first place? And what sort of magic are we even talking about?”

“All I know for now is that the magic has evolved to take this shape. It wasn’t always like this- or if it was, it had been subdued like your magic, Yena. But… I think we would have still felt something if that was the case. Because when you were missing, we always knew deep down that you were alive.”

“That’s right,” Seonghwa nodded. “So who’s this faerie?”

“Surprisingly enough, Wooyoung is on it,” Hongjoong said and Seonghwa and Yena looked at each other. Hongjoong laughed. “I guess Wooyoung didn’t tell you?”

“That brat,” Yena muttered. “How come?”

Hongjoong explained how Wooyoung had been the nearest to the faerie and had taken her to the High Healers to get answers. “They’re keeping her in his basement- she won’t be a danger there.”

“Good idea,” Seonghwa nodded. Yena looked back and forth between the two.

“Wait, hold up. Some poor thing is in Wooyoung’s basement? You know how wrong that sounds?”

The two burst out laughing, and Hongjoong shook his head. “Wooyoung had… problems with his powers, as you have heard. The basement his parents built was specialised to contain all magic inside those four walls. No magic can get across that.”

“I wonder who this faerie is though…” Yena shuddered- she recalled the time she was having trouble with her own magic and felt so hopeless. “Do we know who she is?”

“I have a feeling we will soon,” Hongjoong said knowingly.

What Hongjoong didn’t tell them was that San was probably on his way to Rukbat. Hongjoong had received a message from San’s court letting him know about how he had ‘ran away’ from his kingdom. Hongjoong was very curious about why San felt the sudden need to leave without letting anyone know. Was he feeling something about this situation differently than the others?

But then again, San was always sensitive. He felt Yena’s magic even when it was blocked and believed she was the Lost Princess before anyone else. If he had ignored Yena at that time… Hongjoong shuddered- they wouldn’t be here right now, none of them. So Hongjoong decided that there must have been a reason for San to act this way, and that he would give him time to come to terms with whatever his reasoning was.

Yena and Seonghwa looked at each other- Hongjoong knew something more than he told them. Seonghwa shrugged, figuring if it was something important, he’d know soon anyway. “Should we do something about this? Or let Wooyoung handle this?”

“I say let Wooyoung handle this… for now. I have a feeling we’re all involved in this somehow,” Hongjoong looked grim as he met eyes with Yena. “I think… let’s wait for Wooyoung’s verdict on this before I make any guesses.”

Yena’s heart sank- she instantly knew what Hongjoong meant. Over and over throughout the two and a half years, Yena had worried if going back in time had been the right decision after all. Of course, it had- she had saved Seonghwa from his untimely death. She would do it again. But… maybe she could have done it in a different way? Taken a different approach? Hongjoong told her it was alright to feel paranoid about this, considering what she had been through, but he had never imagined one day he would actually have to worry about this seriously.

That was, in fact, what he was trying to find in his archives now. There wasn’t much about time travel in the first place, kept strictly confidential, and he was worried they would have to figure this one out on their own. He decided at that moment to let Yeosang in on this possibility but keep Yena as uninvolved as possible until they were sure- he didn’t want her to worry more.

“What did you feel, Yena? And Seonghwa?” Hongjoong asked, changing the topic before Yena could probe any further.

“Something unnatural- it is not supposed to exist,” Yena admitted, rubbing her arms. 

“Something dark in nature- which made me wonder if it was a darkling, but… it’s different, isn’t it?” Seonghwa raised a brow and Hongjoong agreed. Seonghwa and Hongjoong, with their magic, were like two peas in a pod. Light and Dark. They felt exactly the same way about magic ever since they were little.

“You should go back and stay until you’re needed,” Hongjoong got up, stretching. “There’s no need to worry and gather right now- there’s no point. Let’s believe in Wooyoung- I heard Jongho’s joining him soon so we can feel comfortable that there’s one brain that would actually be working.”

The two laughed, nodding- Jongho would keep Wooyoung in place, definitely. “Well, it was nice to meet you,” Seonghwa shook his head, smiling. “We just wanted to check on you.”

“Next time you decide to ‘check’ on me, give me a heads-up first,” Hongjoong put a hand on his heart, eyes wide. “You nearly stopped my heart.”

“This was Yena’s idea, to scare you-” Seonghwa was ambushed by Yena putting a hand over his mouth, shaking her head in denial while laughing, portalling back in an instant. Hongjoong’s smile fell, and he went back to the journal he had hid behind him when they had arrived.

This was definitely connected to all of them. And it wasn’t good. Whoever that faerie was didn’t matter anymore- she was merely a glitch in the matrix now. And glitches… shouldn’t exist.

—-----------------

San was having the most intense deja vu of his life. 

He was travelling the same route as the one he took about two years ago- except that now he was using that route to travel away from home. He stopped at the same spots as he did, except that this time he was alone. 

About two years ago, he had visited the border for some business, and on his way back he had encountered a lost traveller- Yena, whom he later discovered was the Princess Yena. He had felt the connection to her instantly, though he couldn’t put a finger on what exactly it meant. After all, it was a huge coincidence that he met Yena like that- but to this date, he wasn’t sure if they had met each other because of an unlikely coincidence or because Kieran played them all like chess pieces on his board.

Kieran. The darkling who claimed the identity of the late 9th Prince of Illusions- Junyoung- to the point that he forgot his real name. And then he assumed multiple identities to get close to Yena and Seonghwa.

San sighed as he poked the burning fire he had built with a piece of wood while he took a break from travelling. He kept thinking of two years ago- how oblivious they had all been until the worst happened- Kieran killed Seonghwa. Yena had to go back in time and risk a paradox that could mean the end of everyone’s existence just to get Seonghwa back. Everyone agreed to do that, and it went smoothly, except that there were two versions of Yena existing-

Everything, including Seonghwa’s death and Yena going back in time was meant to happen. Kieran had played them over and over again. He had killed Seonghwa on purpose, knowing Yena would go back in time. And then when they reached the climax again- when Kieran was supposed to kill Seonghwa- he took Yena instead. 

San had to admit, he was a criminal genius, Kieran was. He made Yena mess with time- the most dangerous magic one could possibly possess. He couldn’t help but think this unnatural feeling was a result of the time travelling- how he knew, San had no idea. It’s like he could feel it all over again- everything, just like he had felt Yena was one of them. His magic was sensitive that way.

But this time… something was different, and it drove him crazy. It wasn’t just the magic he could sense. He could sense the anxiety that came with it, whoever this was. He could feel the panic, the hurt. He had never felt closer to someone, and he had never imagined he could when miles separated them. Just how was he connected to this? He could understand that Yena could feel whoever this was- probably connected to her magic in one way or another. He could understand that Seonghwa could feel its dark nature too, which meant Hongjoong must have felt it too. 

It made him scratch his hair out- he wanted nothing more than to see just who this was that drove him crazy. They probably didn’t even know how San felt. He was so curious and scared about what the future held for him.

—--------------

Hongjoong wondered if such a dimension existed where he could watch the past rewind like a deity. 

Hongjoong had been scribbling notes from what he got- any clue, any indication or sign, just about anything relevant or irrelevant. He had been sitting in a pile of pages and books for days now, and he finally got a message from Wooyoung that confirmed all of his suspicions. 

Kieran might have killed Gaeul- I don’t know how the timelines work, but he killed Gaeul, or tried to. The point is, she is alive. Her magic became the opposite of what it used to be. She lost her memories. She looks like she came back from the dead, literally. Jongho is here- let me know how to handle this.

Hongjoong felt like throwing up- either from the restlessness or the fact that Kieran really had messed up. He needed to see Gaeul, needed to hear everything from her in person. And he needed to keep Yena out of this. He couldn’t involve her again- not so soon, not unless she was the key to putting things back again.

She had already been through so much. He couldn’t do this to her again.

Hongjoong wrote a message to Yunho first. Let Seonghwa know, without Yena’s knowledge, to keep Yena out of this until and if she’s required. That was enough to let Yunho and Seonghwa know that they were involved in this whether they wanted to or not.

Then Hongjoong wrote a message to Wooyoung, letting him know that he would be coming to Rukbat. It would take him about three days. Until then, Jongho and Wooyoung would have to get the most out of her.

Hongjoong packed a bag with his necessities before taking a quick shower. He was going to leave immediately. When he came out, his Right Hand Jaebeom was waiting for him. 

“You look like you’ll pass out if you stay awake any longer,” Jaebeom shook his head. “A little rest before travelling isn’t a bad idea if you’re insisting on travelling alone.”

Hongjoong sighed. “Maybe I should take someone. I don’t have time to spare, Jaebeom.”

“Let Yugyeom accompany you then,” Jaebeom got up, patting Hongjoong’s back to encourage him. “He can return once he drops you off at Rukbat.”

“Should I?” Hongjoong wondered out loud but his thoughts were miles away. Jaebeom shook his head, amused, as he sent someone to call for Yugyeom while they ate lunch.

“I might need to summon some High Healers if the situation calls for it,” Hongjoong munched on pasta as he recalled how some of his healers had really helped Yena calm down when her magic was going out of control. “Have them on standby.”

“I will,” Jaebeom assured him. “And if someone sends a message for you?”

Hongjoong knew he meant Yena- he was going to pretend that he was here. “You’re good at pretending you’re me, aren’t you? I mean, you have been writing the official documents for me since forever-”

“We’re practically the same,” Jaebeom rolled his eyes. “Hongjoong. She’ll know in a second.”

“Ah, I don’t know. Just get someone to fire-message me or something so we can deal with it.”

“And if I can’t reach you?” Jaebeom scoffed.

“Then pretend you are me, and tell dear old Princess Yena that everything is alright and under control. Try to sound like me,” Hongjoong gave Jaebeom a fake wide smile that had him laughing out loud.

“Alright, alright. I got this. We got this.”

“We got nothing, Jaebeom. Everything is a mess now,” Hongjoong sighed.

—-----------------

“So you’re telling me,” Jongho rolled dramatically along the wall, leaving Gaeul baffled- she had never imagined the Princes were so… casual. “You’re telling me that somehow, Kieran has unintentionally or intentionally messed up the timeline and she’s here when she’s supposed to be dead?”

“We don’t know that yet,” Wooyoung was half lying on the floor, drawing circles with his finger. “That’s what she remembers. Her memory is as good as Seonghwa’s ability to sit cross-legged.”

“But Seonghwa can’t sit cross-legged-”

“Exactly,” Wooyoung looked at Jongho and he snorted. Gaeul, who was sitting on her bed with her knees drawn to her chest, watched the two panic- that’s what it had to be- the calm before the storm.

"But then…" Jongho sank down on the ground. "Suppose she was killed in the previous timeline. In this timeline, somehow, she's alive. How is that any different from Seonghwa's situation?"

"Exactly," Wooyoung clapped. "He didn't become anti-dark just because he didn't die in this timeline."

"Anti-dark would be called light, Wooyoung," Gaeul mumbled and Jongho snorted.

"Whatever," Wooyoung waved his hand in dismissal. "Seonghwa remains the Prince of Dark."

"So Princess Yena went back in time to save Prince Seonghwa?" Gaeul looked at the two. "Just what happened two years ago? All I remember is hearing rumours of Prince Yeosang's twin being alive."

"Uh, nothing happened," Jongho smiled and gave Wooyoung a side-eye. Wooyoung shrugged.

"She might as well know, Jongho. For some reason, she is involved directly or indirectly with what happened two years ago."

Gaeul watched the two bicker back and forth, her stomach twisting nervously. "Can I get some fresh air?"

"Yeah, we can open the windows-"

"No, I mean… can I go out? I feel like I'm suffocating right now," Gaeul gulped.

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes suspiciously but Jongho stood up. "Of course you can. You don't have to worry about your magic getting out of control too. I think the two of us can handle it if something happens."

Wooyoung gaped as he watched Jongho extend a friendly hand to Gaeul and she took it hesitantly, following him outside, urging Wooyoung to come along as well. Jongho led her to one of the gardens in the back without many guards. He watched as Gaeul simply strolled along the path etched beside the walls, brushing her fingers along the plants along the way. Wooyoung and Jongho stood watching, and Wooyoung elbowed him.

"What were you thinking?"

"Don't make her feel like a prisoner here, Wooyoung," Jongho warned as he looked at the elder Prince. "Her magic… I felt it when I took her hand. If she gets nervous or anxious - which you do a great job at making her feel- her magic can explode with a wave. Let her feel that she's free and she has nothing much to worry about while we figure this out. And don't tell her too much about what happened, will you?"

"Ugh, I can't wait for Hongjoong to come," Wooyoung groaned. "We literally have no idea what we're doing right now."

"Exactly," Jongho sighed. "Anti-nature. I never thought I'd see that one day- not from a faerie, at least."

"Do you feel anything else apart from the magic?" Wooyoung asked. Jongho shook his head.

"I don't even know what I really feel. She just makes me… nervous. She makes my magic nervous. I figured because our magics are opposite now, so…"

"No luck with the healers as well," Wooyoung watched Gaeul lay down flat on the grass as she stared at the sky. "Do you think it's a… trap? All of this? She could be Kieran 2.0. Or she could be a bait."

"Whatever it is, needs to be dealt with quickly," Jongho looked at Wooyoung. "Before things get worse. Because I sense it. You do too, right?"

"Impending doom," Wooyoung sighed. "The worst feeling I've ever had."

—-----------------

San reached in the middle of the night, sighing in relief only when he saw the dim lights glowing from the glass structure of what was Wooyoung’s palace. He felt relaxed for the first time in a while since he could sense Wooyoung and Jongho- he wasn’t surprised Jongho came. But….

He could also feel another presence strong enough to be reckoned with. Not as strong as the Princes, but close enough. San bit the inside of his cheeks, realising the gravity of the situation- he had no idea who he was looking for, but someone called out to him desperately. Desperately enough to make him travel all alone for days. And now that he was closer… the feeling only grew.

Meanwhile, Gaeul woke up with her body covered in sweat, gasping for breath. She was alone in her room but she was pretty sure there was a healer or a guard stationed outside, and some stationed on the stairs. She could suddenly sense everyone-

She shut her eyes as her body shook with a jolt- someone was here. Someone she wasn’t sure she wanted to meet, but her magic was almost suffocating her- the pit in her heart… she felt like she was drowning.

Gaeul stood up with shaky legs, going first to the sink to wash her face. Her eyes looked sunken but the silver in her eyes still glowed. She frowned- she wasn’t sure she ever had silver in her dark eyes before. Running a hand through her short hair, she cautiously opened the door, finding one of the healers, Yoohyeon, dozing off in the hall.

Gaeul wondered if she should wake Yoohyeon up and ask her if she could go outside, or let her sleep. But with her magic getting out of control, making her feel like it would burst any moment, she was worried she’d be a danger. So she slowly walked to Yoohyeon and called her name twice, making Yoohyeon stretch dramatically before she opened her eyes. She checked her wristwatch- it was nearly 3 in the morning. 

“Something wrong?” 

“I feel like my magic is going to burst in a wave like it did earlier,” Gaeul was almost jumping on her feet now, “I need to go out.”

“Uh, I think I need to take you to the cell in that case. Your magic won’t be able to escape those walls.”

“You don’t understand,” Gaeul panicked, feeling something slowly crawl inside her body, making its way up. “I need air. If I go in there, I don’t know what damage I would do-”

Yoohyeon got up, nodding her head, about to hold Gaeul and rub her arms but she flinched away. She sighed. “I know you don’t mean harm. But the cell- it’s built specifically to contain magic inside. Come on- you’ll be fine. It’s like a big room- you won’t feel like it’s suffocating you.”

Gaeul reluctantly followed Yoohyeon to the other end of the hall, feeling her magic rise to her chest now. She scanned the cell- it was very plain, just 4 walls and a single lamp illuminating its inside. Gaeul looked at Yoohyeon helplessly.

“I’m going to call for someone while you stay there, okay?” Yoohyeon smiled warmly, but it did nothing to calm Gaeul down. Yoohyeon shut the door, and Gaeul found herself surrounded by four walls. She slid down by one of them, facing the door.

It’s okay, she told herself. If you go outside, you’ll hurt and kill things. It’s better to stay inside until the magic wears out.

Only, the magic wasn’t wearing out. It grew more in intensity, and San felt it- felt the change in the nature of the magic like it was his own. Something was fueling the magic further. San leaned forward on his horse, urging it to go faster. By the time he reached the gates, he could feel it.

Impending doom.

He jumped off the horse, the guards letting him in instantly. He entered the building, looking around- everything seemed normal. He started towards Wooyoung’s room upstairs but then he felt it-

The basement.

San scoffed- of course whoever it was was in the basement. San took the shortcut, going outside until he was at the backside of the palace, asking the guards stationed out to let him in. 

“Prince Wooyoung doesn’t allow anyone to go inside at night-”

“For fuck’s sake, let me in and get as far away as you can unless you want to die tonight,” San’s eyes glowed and that was enough for the guards to open the lock and get the hell away from there. He spotted Yoohyeon who came his way,

“Prince San? What are you doing here?”

“Get Wooyoung immediately, there’s no time,” San warned, “Whoever’s inside? Their magic is going to explode.”

“But she is in the cell-”

“The cell that nullifies magic?” San shook his head. “It’s fueling it instead. Get Wooyoung and Jongho immediately.”

Yoohyeon gasped, running off and San rushed downstairs, opening every door- he had never been in the basement personally. By the time he reached the end of the hall, he could hear someone’s sobs and chokes. 

San stopped for a moment outside the door that had to be the one. He frowned- even with the dangerous magic bound to kill everything, he could feel something else- a connection. Was it because this faerie was somehow connected to what took place two years ago? He wasn’t sure. With a deep breath, he opened the door and he sucked in his breath when he saw a girl with her knees brought to her chest, sobbing.

This was the last thing he was expecting to see. It was like Yena’s situation all over again. San slowly stepped inside, muttering a soft ‘hey’, causing the girl to look up-

Gaeul and San both felt it then- something inside them tugging and calling out to each other, and it was not magic.

Gaeul frowned, ignoring whatever it was in case it made her magic any angrier. “You should get away. It’s not safe here.”

“I came to get you out of here,” San’s warm voice left Gaeul surprised, especially when he smiled and his whole face softened. He sat down on one knee in front of her, scanning her. “It’s not safe to be here. You need to get out.”

“Who are you?” Gaeul almost whispered. San extended his hand.

“I’m San. I’m sure you’ve already heard about me now.”

Gaeul pursed her lips, stifling her smile. She had, alright. She glanced at his extended hand. “If I hold your hand, I might possibly kill you.”

“You won’t,” San assured. “Trust me.”

If it was Wooyoung or anyone else, Gaeul would have never taken their hand at a time like this. She would have screamed at them to run away from her, to get as far away as possible. But something about San was so different than anyone else she had met so far. And without hesitation, she took his hand, his calloused fingers providing her instant consolation that everything would be alright. 

Without saying anything else, San started leading her away from the room, sending a little spark of his own magic through their connected hands, trying to figure out the nature of her magic and just how unsafe everyone was. By the time he got out, Wooyoung and Jongho audibly gasped.

“Are you stupid?!” Wooyoung yelled. “Her magic will hurt you!”

“No, it won’t,” San shook his head. “I’ve got this, trust me. Just… follow me. And create a shield around us while you’re at it. I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

Wooyooung and Jongho watched San lead Gaeul to the garden that she’d gone to earlier, both of them standing in disbelief for a few moments before they looked at each other. 

“Did you hear that?” Wooyoung scoffed. “Trust me, he said. Trust this little-”

“Shut up and create a shield,” Jongho laughed. “He must have a reason. He’s not as stupid as you.”

“Sure,” Wooyoung mocked. “A reason. Let’s hear that.”

San stopped in the middle of the garden, instructing Jongho and Wooyoung to shield themselves while they were at it. Wooyoung protested but San assured them he would not get hurt.

“It’s like when Yena had a block,” he explained finally, glancing at Gaeul. “I know what to do. I’m basically an expert at this now.”

“Right. Let’s see how far you get blown off. Gaeul! Make sure your magic throws him a good few miles away- maybe out of Rukbat.”

Gaeul was practically squirming. “I can’t hold it in anymore.”

“You don’t have to,” San took her other hand. “Close your eyes and try to reach the root of your magic. I’ll be there.”

The two of them shut their eyes, and Gaeul almost screamed- her magic was seconds away from exploding, but she saw it. It had to be San’s magic- the reddish brown, almost golden thread making its way beside her magic, circling it. Gaeul shook her head- he would get hurt. 

“This is not my magic. I cannot control it,” Gaeul whispered and San squeezed her hands to let her know that he could hear her. “Just looking at it is making me suffocate.”

“I understand now,” San replied. “Just… stay strong. It’s going to hurt.”

Gaeul had no idea how much it was going to hurt, but when San’s magic coiled around the black and silver raging storm of magic and covered it entirely, she felt a moment of calm. And then his magic started squeezing her magic into nothingness- or at least it tried, because Gaeul’s ear piercing screams made San flinch and realise this was not going to work. He instantly created a shield around himself and dropped Gaeul’s hands, making her sink to the ground and clutch her head.

And then a wave came, nothing like San had imagined. If he hadn’t shielded himself, he would have been obliterated. Jongho and Wooyoung sent their magic back, fighting the wave and containing it within the small sphere so no one else would get hurt. For a good minute, it was a battle for their life before Gaeul stopped screaming and slumped down, unconscious. San breathed, slumping down with her, looking at Jongho and Wooyoung in disbelief. Wooyoung scanned the perimeter- thankfully, only the area within the sphere had ‘died’. The grass was grey, the flowers were ashes. Jongho sank down to his knees.

“I don’t feel so good,” Jongho’s face was pale. Wooyoung bent down next to him, touching his forehead. It was because of the magic being opposite in nature to Jongho. Wooyoung lent some of his strength to him just in time to stop him from fainting as well. He let Jongho lie down on the grass, out of energy.

“Well,” Wooyoung looked at San, grinning. “This is interesting.”

San glared at him before struggling up on his feet and joining the two, laughing helplessly as he sank down with the two. “I had to withdraw. This magic… It's not fae magic. It’s not even darkling magic.” He drew out his hand and frowned- the ashes were cold- like snow.

“Tell me about it,” Wooyoung sighed. “Jongho calls it ‘anti-nature’.”

“That’s because she used to have the magic of nature,” Jongho practically wailed. “Look around you and tell me this sight doesn’t scream ‘anti-nature’.”

San nodded- he had never seen anything like this. The grass and flowers hadn’t wilted- they had turned ash. “The cell, Wooyoung. It was fueling her magic. I could feel it from a mile away.”

“Well, shit,” Wooyoung looked at Gaeul, worried for a second that she had died but her chest rising up and down slowly relieved him. “Does that mean her magic can’t even be called magic?”

“Unnatural,” San scoffed. “Death- but not simply death. This is something beyond dead- look at this,” he plucked the grey grass that softened into powder with his touch. “Anti-magic. What is the opposite of magic, Wooyoung?”

“Mundane? But this is anything but that. This is… bewitchery, but it’s not that either. Bewitchery was what Junyoung’s uncle tried to do. This is… I don’t know. Let’s hope Hongjoong has a name for this, because if he does not… we’re in deep, deep trouble.”

—-------------------

The next afternoon, Wooyoung got a message from Hongjoong informing him that he’d be taking a little ‘detour’ in hopes of confirming his theory. The message was as ambiguous as it could get, so the three decided to chat with Gaeul.

Gaeul, however, was not having it. The boys were either bickering with each other about things she did not understand, or staring at her like an alien which made her fidget a lot. And right now, the boys were doing the latter. Gaeul stared back at the three of them for a good few moments before she turned around, making them face her back, which was when they broke out of their trance.

“I’m sorry,” San chuckled, “I’m just… confused. Please turn around, Gaeul.”

Gaeul sighed- she did not understand why San saying her name sounded so different. She turned around and her heart immediately warmed at the way he looked at her- sharp eyes that were so soft at times. “What happened last night?”

“I tried calming your magic down, but we have a theory…” San looked at Wooyoung and Jongho, wondering if it was wise to let her know.

“I have an idea so please let me know,” Gaeul gave Jongho and Wooyoung a side-eye when they tried warning San with wide eyes and bobbing heads. “Please tell me what’s going on with me. I’m as confused as you all are.”

“That, I believe,” San nodded. “Your magic… it’s not ‘magic’ anymore. Not like every faerie on this planet. Not even like the darklings-”

“You keep talking about darklings,” Gaeul looked at Wooyoung. “Kieran, was it? Who was he? Have you met a lot of darklings? Are they on this planet?”

“Slow down,” Wooyoung laughed. “Kieran was a darkling, yes, on this planet but not of his own accord. He’s the only one we’ve met.”

“We’ve met Neve too,” Jongho added.

“For like ten seconds, Jongho,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes.

“Ten seconds?” Gaeul was starting to believe that Wooyoung and Jongho weren’t quite sane in the head.

“Yes, he popped in from another dimension to say hi and take Kieran back,” Wooyoung looked at Gaeul as if daring her to call it bullshit. 

“So what does this Kieran possibly have to do with me?”

“You mentioned red hair and glowing eyes… amber eyes?” San asked cautiously and Gaeul nodded hesitantly.

“I believe, yes. He supposedly killed me. Could be a dream.”

“I don’t think it’s a dream,” San looked at Wooyoung. “There’s a reason her magic reversed itself. Why would Kieran kill her though?”

“That’s the one thing I don’t understand,” Jongho tilted his head as he watched Gaeul. “She was a normal faerie with an affinity for nature. Nothing unusual there. Did she see something or hear something she wasn’t supposed to? Or was it mere bad luck?”

“Kieran wasn’t one to kill someone without a reason, was he? Every move he made, every life he took was calculated. As far as I know, he hasn’t even killed that many people.”

“San’s right,” Wooyoung started. “Two years ago… that’s the point of Kieran’s life where he couldn’t risk making a mistake. Killing Gaeul, who lived a very normal life at the beach with her family… there must have been a reason. And that reason is to fuck us up, obviously, but there’s another reason that I feel is more valid.”

“So are we going to watch me everyday like we’ve been doing for days now? Or are we doing something?” Gaeul was starting to hate the basement now. 

“Dear old Hongjoong went on a little trip before coming here,” Wooyoung sighed. “Until then, I suggest we stay put and not try anything.”

“Don’t look at me,” San raised his hands in surrender. “I only prevented an explosion that would have obliterated your ass.”

“We would have been fine,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Tell him, Jongho.”

“I’m not telling him anything,” it was Jongho’s turn to surrender. “After experiencing it firsthand, I’m done assuming things about Gaeul.”

“Something tells me there’s more to your story,” Gaeul raised her eyebrow. Jongho sighed, giving in.

“I could feel you all the way in my castle. The day Wooyoung found you… your magic touched a flower, didn’t it?” Gaeul nodded, surprised, and he continued. “When your magic exploded, I felt it. It was unnatural, and I’m the Prince of Nature. Of course I would feel it- just like last night. It makes me feel sick- no offence to you.”

“None taken. It makes me sick too,” Gaeul sighed, looking away. “But… how come you can feel it from so far away? Do all Princes have like… a sensor?”

“Something like that,” San laughed. “Jongho felt it because of the magic. Wooyoung felt it because you were close, right?”

“Yeah, probably,” Wooyoung nodded. “And you felt it because?”

“I don’t know,” San shrugged, recalling the other feeling he had. His eyes met Gaeul at that moment and his heart sank- and so did Gaeul’s. “I… I’ve been feeling her for months now. I think… when I came to visit you last time, Wooyoung. Four months ago? The proximity might have triggered it.”

“But you’ve been feeling her all along?” Jongho frowned. “Is it because your magic is sensitive?” 

“Probably,” San nodded slowly. “I could feel the magic growing slowly. I could feel that it was wrong. But there was something else- it made me nervous to the point that I couldn’t focus.”

“Weird,” Wooyoung made a face. “Yena and Seonghwa felt it too, probably because it’s connected to the two somehow. We’re keeping Yena out of this, in case you decide to send her a cute message about how you saved my ass from obliterating-”

“I won’t,” San kicked Wooyoung’s leg, making Jongho and Gaeul giggle. “She’s had enough already.”

“What’s the Princess like?” Gaeul asked and the three looked at her. “I don’t think I ever heard about her while I was… alive? Before Kieran supposedly killed me.”

“She’s like us,” Wooyoung smiled.

“She’s like Wooyoung,” Jongho sighed and Wooyoung smacked his arm. 

“What’s wrong with that!?”

“So when did you hear about the Princess?” Jongho asked, ignoring Wooyoung altogether.

“A few months ago… I found myself at the beach, but I was in no state to move and I had no memory. I somehow made it to the forest and some people found me. Everything’s fuzzy- I don’t even know when this amnesia episode started. It could be a few months or a year-”

“What’s the first ‘news’ you heard, if you can recall?” Jongho asked and looked at the two Princes. “I think we can figure out when she woke up. Or came back to life. Whatever it is.”

“Prince Seonghwa and Princess Yena’s wedding was going to take place in a few days,” Gaeul recalled- it was the most memorable news she had heard that had stuck with her. “I remember because I had no idea who this Yena girl was. And then later I found out that she was the Lost Princess.”

“But it’s been 6 months,” Wooyoung frowned. “When we say two years ago, we actually mean two and a half. So… she woke up before Yena’s wedding. We didn’t feel her for four months at most, right? Unless someone felt it earlier. Does that mean her magic wasn’t in this state at that point?”

“That’s right,” Gaeul confirmed. “That time is hazy but I remember the faeries wondering if I had magic in the first place.”

“If Hongjoong was here, we would have figured all of this out in one sitting,” Jongho groaned, slumping down on the couch. 

“Did Prince Hongjoong feel this too?” Gaeul asked.

“Oh, he feels everything,” San waved a hand in dismissal. “Everything that the light touches, I think.”

“So if you’re the Prince of Earth, do you feel everything that happens on this land?”

“Something like that. Yunho is the Prince of Water, so he feels everything wrong in the ocean-” San paused, his mouth parting as he looked at Gaeul. “Didn’t you say you were found by the beach?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“So Yunho must have felt when exactly!” San got up, clapping. “See? We have a brain too. We don’t always need Hongjoong.”

Gaeul tried stifling her smile but the look on Jongho’s face and the grimace on Wooyoung’s made her laugh and she put a hand on her mouth as San turned, muttering sorry. He only shook his head in amusement. 

“Jongho, quick. Write a message to Yunho and ask when exactly he felt something was wrong.”

“Does it matter?” Gaeul asked. “Where was I for the two years that I have no memory of?”

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why we always need Hongjoong,” Jongho bowed dramatically, making San pout as he slumped back to the couch.

—------------------

The last thing Mingi expected one fine Sunday morning was Yeosang strolling into his chamber, materialising out of thin air, and immediately fainting right on the couch.

For a second, Mingi panicked, but he could see his chest rise and fall. Mingi poked his arms- he even twitched, his blonde hair falling messily on his forehead. Mingi shook his head, scoffing. “A little warning would have been nice!”

Yeosang, of course, didn’t respond. It appeared that he had portalled himself. His portalling method was very different from Yena, and he had started practising it not too long ago, though he always had a theory it would work. But turning into a spirit and then materialising into a body elsewhere was risky business- more risky than Yena opening a portal in space and risk portalling somewhere else- or some ‘time’ else. 

Or perhaps, Mingi thought as he sat down beside Yeosang, going back to his documents, perhaps portalling into an unknown dimension with a different flow of time was more dangerous.

Mingi recalled the time when the darkling Kieran had almost driven Yena mad, forcing her to practise her time magic so he could go back in time for some twisted revenge. Mingi had found Yena just in time, and Yena in a state of panic had accidentally portalled herself and Mingi into another dimension where time flow was different. After spending months in that dimension, they came back when Yena finally figured out exactly where she was, finding that only a few hours had passed in reality.

If Yena had been alone, he wasn’t sure she would have made it back. She was in no state to be alone, after being a hostage to Kieran. Mingi wondered sometimes if he was fated to be the one to find Yena. It had somehow made his magic different, spending that time with her in a dimension where no one else but the two existed. 

This was definitely why he could feel some poor soul with its own magic burning it. He was sure Yeosang could feel it too and was here to talk about it.

He was right. When Yeosang finally woke up, it took him a good few moments to gain his senses. Mingi pointed to the bottle of water in front of him and he hungrily gulped all of it down- portalling, for some reason, left him parched. Once he had finished the last drop, he finally breathed.

“You look well,” Yeosang commented.

“Because I have been sitting in my own body unlike someone in this room,” Mingi scoffed, amused. “What are you up to?”

“I heard some rumours that I thought I’d share with you first,” Yeosang leaned forward, “Some very… interesting rumours.”

Mingi ran a hand through his red hair. “Well?”

“Apparently,” Yeosang’s eyes glittered, “someone actually came back from the dead.”

Mingi gave Yeosang the side-eye. “As in?”

Yeosang huffed. “My spirits tell me that something was amiss. As you know, time flow doesn’t affect them. So when Yena changed the timeline, nothing in that dimension changed. Anyways, from the reports I gathered, there was some sort of black hole- if you can call it that- forming in that dimension. I don’t know how I missed it, but some tell me it didn’t stay in the same place.”

“And what does that mean?” Mingi frowned.

“Apparently the hole grew until it disappeared one day about six months ago. Again, I’m not sure about the time, but that’s what I got.”

“I think Yunho told me when he felt something strange. He was out in the ocean for days trying to figure out whatever it was.”

Yeosang paled after hearing that. “That sounds too similar to necromancy. Water and black holes. The dimension of the dead. Never a good combination. But… necromancy doesn’t work like that. It’s done by someone, and the black hole doesn’t ‘travel’ around the dimension, it sticks to the reality here. And… there’s something else.”

Mingi raised his brows in anticipation and Yeosang sighed. “I casually confirmed with San, Wooyoung, and Jongho’s court, but there have been people going ‘missing’ in the past few months. No traces, no pattern. My spirits tell me that they’re alive, but they… They are in another dimension. Maybe sucked by the black hole.”

“That’s crazy, why would someone willingly go into something that looked like a black hole?”

“Unless they were dragged in it,” Yeosang bit his lips. “If my sources aren’t lying- and they have no reason to- they believe some ‘otherworldly’ creatures now prowl in this land.”

Mingi sat back, taking a deep breath. He wasn’t sure he was ready to face ‘otherworldly’ creatures- the creatures that already existed on this planet were enough. “So what’s your verdict?” 

“Hongjoong. He needs to hear this. I think… it’s time we all gathered. Whatever this is, it’s not supposed to exist.”

“Actually,” Mingi pursed his lips, “I can feel it too. A soul burning from too much magic, except it’s not magic. It’s… something different.”

“Yeah. It has the ability to disintegrate living beings. What do we do?”

“Send a message to Hongjoong first,” Mingi immediately started writing a message. “We need to gather.”

—------------------

Hongjoong was in the middle of the Peridot Sea, somewhere between Mingi’s Kingdom of Leo and Wooyoung’s Kingdom of Sagittarius, when he got Mingi’s message informing him that apparently someone was back from the dead and they needed to meet in person so they could discuss it properly.

Hongjoong looked up at the cloudy sky, as gloomy as his mood. Yugyeom, who was quite pleased with the detour because he needed a break from the castle duties, raised a brow. “Everything alright?”

“Not at all,” Hongjoong smiled helplessly, asking for a pen. He scribbled his location and dared Yeosang to portal himself here since there was a chance he would very well land in the sea.

Yeosang’s reply through Mingi’s fire message came a minute later, a very provocative drawing along with a request to land on their continent- Algieba was the closest. Hongjoong sent an okay, instructing Yugyeom to turn their course west. Yugyeom, who had an affinity for air, helped the ship change its course without much effort. They could already see land so it would only take about an hour.

As soon as he landed at the beach, he sent Yeosang and Mingi the message. Yugyeom brought food from the ship. “Good thing we landed. With this amount of food you wouldn’t last two days.”

Hongjoong passed him a side-eye. “You should have stored more.”

“Who decided to take a detour in the middle of our very planned-out tour to Rukbat?” Yugyeom scoffed, slumping down on the sand and opening the bag which included snacks and everything unhealthy that Hongjoong loved to eat. Hongjoong picked a box of cookies, offering some as an apology and Yugyeom rolled his eyes, laughing.

“I’m probably going to Mingi’s castle. Wanna join me?”

“I should,” Yugyeom nodded. “It’s been a while since I met Wonpil.”

“Ah, yes,” Hongjoong nodded. “You have friends everywhere. Let’s hope we get a ride before we get a heatstroke in the desert.”

Luckily for the two, Mingi had already sent some of his friends that resided in the desert to pick Hongjoong and Yugyeom. The two dozed off the entire ride back, waking up only when they stopped to get a good night’s rest and then the next day, they reached Mingi’s castle, greeted by an unusually grim looking duo.

“At least wear a smile when you greet me!” Hongjoong wailed and the two burst out laughing which was when Hongjoong realised this was an act and he ran forward to smack them. “I swear I will never get a break!”

“You’ll be wearing this grim face soon enough, don’t worry,” Yeosang laughed, dodging a hit to the arm. “Come on. Let’s eat before we lose our appetite.”

Yugyeom took that as a clue to run away. “I don’t wish to lose my appetite. Hongjoong, I’ll be staying here for a day or two before I go back. That okay?”

Everyone gave him a thumbs-up and watched him spot Wonpil and happily run to his old friend. “See?” Hongjoong watched them hug like long lost brothers. “That’s how you greet a friend.”

“Whatever,” Mingi grinned cheekily, ruffling Hongjoong’s ginger hair. “Come along before I drag you there.”

The three avoided discussing anything over dinner, enjoying the carefree bantering and making fun of each other just like everything was normal, to the point where for a moment they forgot all about the trouble they were in.

“I have something to say about this,” Hongjoong began. Yeosang started clapping and Mingi wheezed with laughter. “I haven’t even begun!”

“You’ve said enough,” Yeosang laughed. “You don’t get the right to tell me to stop portalling like this when you literally disappear into the light. At this rate, you’ll find yourself some thousand light years away from us. At least I’ll only be lost in another dimension.”

“It doesn’t work like that-”

“Should I try materialising into fire?” Mingi cackled and Hongjoong rolled his eyes at how Yeosang and Mingi kept trolling him.

“You’ll burn yourself if you ever try that,” Hongjoong commented. “Just because you’re the Prince of Fire doesn’t mean-”

“Yes, Hongjoong, just because you’re the Prince of Light doesn’t mean you get to shine your light of wisdom on us,” Mingi said and the room fell silent before the three started hollering again, Yeosang applauding.

“If you’re done fooling around,” Jae, Mingi’s Right Hand entered, shaking his head in amusement at the young princes. “The chambers are ready, and tea awaits.”

“Ah, yes, time to sleep,” Hongjoong nodded, getting up, hearing one of the two mutter ‘boomer’. “Thank you- and please make sure Yugyeom leaves after two days. Yugyeom and Wonpil shouldn’t be together for too long.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure,” Jae smiled devilishly. “Let’s hope they don’t bring the castle down with their chaos.”

As the three settled in Mingi’s living room, they realised how the gravity of the situation kept nagging at their subconsciousness. Yeosang glanced at the two. “Is it time we finally address the problem?”

“You first,” Hongjoong nodded. 

“I am not sure about what time this took place, but something like necromancy brought someone back from the dead. Apparently a black hole kept moving around in my dimension of spirits, until a while ago it disappeared. I think that’s when someone came back from the dead- but it doesn’t look like they were ‘brought’ back to life. It just… happened. And it burned the soul of a faerie with its magic in a way I’ve never seen or heard of, Hongjoong. Other than that, there are reports of missing faeries throughout Kingdoms of Cancer, Sagittarius and Libra. Throughout that continent only. Apparently some ‘otherworldly’ creatures have been spotted and are said to have come from the blackholes- my spirits tell me that the missing faeries are alive but not in this plane- not in this dimension.”

“I understand,” Hongjoong nodded, his face not giving any indication of what was going on inside his head. “Mingi?”

“I felt it too, I feel it now as well,” Mingi shifted in his chair. “Whatever this magic is, it’s not normal. It’s burning the soul of the possessor, but then… at the same time it’s keeping it alive too.”

“Interesting,” Hongjoong slumped back. “The ‘it’ we are referring to is a faerie of about our age, named Gaeul. She’s in Wooyoung’s Palace right now where San and Jongho are present too.”

“Wow,” Yeosang scoffed. “Why didn’t they inform us?”

“I specifically asked them to report only to me, as I asked you two and everyone else,” Hongjoong said. “I have a theory, and it’s not good. Whatever you both told me, it’s only making my theory more plausible. According to Yunho, he detected something fishy in the ocean about six months ago. He spent days trying to figure out the source but it was like the source kept changing locations.”

“That must be when the black hole shifted to this dimension of reality?” Yeosang asked.

“Seems like it,” Hongjoong nodded. “I don’t know who Gaeul is and what makes her so special, but I believe… according to the memory she thinks she has… Kieran killed her somehow. For such a phenomenon to happen, either he calculated it to the extent that he already knew when Yena would go back in time, or it occurred unintentionally- a big, unfortunate coincidence.”

“But with Kieran, nothing is a coincidence,” Mingi pursed his lips.

“Exactly, but we cannot be too sure right now. Either way, he killed Gaeul and she came back because Yena changed the timeline and somehow, Gaeul’s life was connected to it. If Yena hadn’t changed the timeline, she would have remained dead.”

“But theoretically, like Seonghwa, Gaeul should have just been ‘alive’. How is her situation different from Seonghwa?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out, and we also need to check if the missing faeries are indeed connected to all of this,” Hongjoong sighed. “We need to trace that black hole, Yeosang. And we need… Yunho. Get a good night’s sleep because from tomorrow, we will travel.”

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