#prompt: night triumphant and stars eternal

[officialfeysandweek]

AO3 Collection・Event Masterlist

📝Fics:

Where The Spirit Meets The Bone by @ultadverb

Stars Eternal and Death Incarnate by @shallyne

Just Stay This Little by @reverie-tales

This Love Is Alive Back From The Dead by @itsthedoodle

Drop of Starlight by @stay-forever-sunday

A Court of Trials and Tragedies by @theanonymousopossum

Mess Is Mine by @azrielshadowssing

Night Triumphant and Stars Eternal Headcanon by @harperbrynne

Beach Shenanigans by @shallyne

Buried Alive Inside My Dreams by @separatist-apologist

The Dust of the Stars in Her Eyes by @rosanna-writer

Queen of Thieves by @the-lonelybarricade

Starry Eyes Sparking Up My Darkest Night by @itsthedoodle

The Stars, The Moon by @darling-archeron

🎨Art:

No Going Back Feysand Art by @separatist-apologist, @the-lonelybarricade, and @krem-does-stuff

Night Triumphant and Stars Eternal Art by @whettpaint

🎶Misc:

Night Triumphant and Stars Eternal Moodboard by @starfall-spirit

Night Triumphant and Stars Eternal Collage by @dreamlandreader

Dreams That Answer Playlist by @areyoudreaminof

Night Triumphant and Stars Eternal Headcanon by @harperbrynne

Feysand of the 70's Playlist by @popjunkie42-blog

Night Triumphant & the Stars Eternal collage by @theflyinvelaris

Feysand fic recs - i am no god, only woodworm by @ultadverb

Night Triumphant, Stars Eternal Playlist by @demarogue

Incorrect quote by @velidewrites

Incorrect quote by @shallyne

R H Y S A N D + F E Y R E | High Lord and Lady of the Night Court Moodboard by @bloomingdarkgarden

Night Triumphant and Stars Eternal Moodboard by @highqueenmorrigan

-

If we missed one of your contributions, kindly reach out to us!

🎨: @dreadart

[littlest-w01f]

FeysandWeek Moodboard

For @officialfeysandweek

Day 1: Eternal

All I thought about when I saw the prompt for today was The Star Eternal and the Night Triumphant who loves and worships her with his whole heart, those are easily one of my favourite titles for Feysand and I love the image they create in my head of Rhysand as the night sky and Feyre the brightest star in it. The night sky is incomplete without it's star and the star can be seen shining how bright it is with the night that surrounds it. (kinda cheesy but i love it)

[the-lonelybarricade]

Queen of Thieves - Chapter 1

Summary: A fulfillment of this prompt from @sjmkinkmeme. A Canon AU where half fae, con-artist Feyre makes an ill placed bet.

A contribution to @officialfeysandweek2023 Day 1: Night Triumphant and the Stars Eternal

Read on AO3・Masterlist

-

“The game is very simple.”

A crowd of males gathered around the long wooden table. Some were standing, gripping their large metal tankards as they stared on with wary curiosity. Others had sprawled themselves on the tavern’s benches or propped themselves against the wooden beams, occupying every empty space that offered a decent view, effectively boxing Feyre into the scent of stale sweat and ale. The smell burned her nostrils, but given that her family lived in one of the spare rooms above the seedy tavern, it was a scent she was used to ignoring.

Feyre pushed her deck of cards across the table, to the male that had originally piqued her interest. He was a sailor—and not the type that usually frequented these taverns. A merchant sailor, one who worked for the High Lord, if the Night Court emblem embossed into the buttons of his navy jacket was anything to go by.

His kind usually slipped past the docks and stayed at the inns on the other side of the Sidra, where the rooms were more expensive but were met with the promise that the sheets had been cleaned since their last use. Given that this tavern charged its spare rooms by the hour, and its occupants hardly stayed through the night, Feyre had a feeling he was here for something other than clean sheets.

And if she couldn’t win money off of him through cards, then she could always work for it the old fashioned way.

“Shuffle the deck, then cut it as many times as you want. Once you’re satisfied, pick a card from the top. I’ll tell you what it is.”

The sailor narrowed his eyes. “I suppose all the cards are identical.”

Around him, the drunken males shifted. Some of them had seen her play this game before, and wore smirks that said they were excited to see someone else lose their money—which they would later be heckling her for. Others looked disapproving, suspecting some trick. Sometimes, that disapproval was directed towards the male falling into her trap. Usually, it was directed towards her.

Feyre tipped her chin. “Have a look. They’re ordinary cards.”

With slow, methodical examination, the sailor spread the cards face up over the table, allowing the tavern to witness the numbers and symbols that were standard of any deck.

The sailor paused. “These are not ordinary cards.” He pressed a finger to one of the face cards, Night Triumphant, to admire the portrait of a male crowned in stars. “These are hand painted.”

“All card sets are hand painted,” Feyre countered.

“No,” he was frowning. “I mean, yes, they are. But these were painted by you, weren’t they?”

She straightened a bit. No one had ever noticed that much about her cards. “How could you tell?”

“There’s a smudge of paint on your cheek,” the sailor said with a soft laugh. “And I doubt a female reduced to these parlor tricks could afford a deck of such fine artistry, otherwise. You’re either a thief, or you’re very talented.”

Maybe she was a very talented thief.

Her cheeks were beginning to burn. “I may have painted the cards, but they’re identical at the back. I won’t be able to tell which is which.”

The sailor smirked. With a graceful swipe of his hand, he arranged the cards back into a pile and pushed them back across the table.

“For my peace of mind, allow us to play with my own deck.”

“Fine.”

She watched him draw a collection of cards from his breast pocket. Unlike her own deck, these cards were almost certainly rigged. Which meant that he would bet with greater confidence.

Feyre smiled. “Cut the deck, then.”

He arched his brow. “You don’t want to see my cards? They could be a different set than you’re used to.”

She studied the back of the cards, marking their glossy, onyx surface and the serpent that coiled around the border.

“I recognize a Night Court deck when I see one.”

Now, it was the sailor’s turn to smile. “Very impressive.”

The tavern went quiet as they watched the sailor slide his fingers along the edges of the cards. She could see his lips moving, counting some metric in his head, before he paused and lifted the deck at its midway point. He placed the lower pile of cards on the top of the stack, then cut it twice more, each move seemingly well-calculated.

Finally, he looked across at Feyre, and he lifted a card from the top.

“I’m feeling generous,” he said. “I’ll give you five marks if you can guess it in under three tries.”

“How about ten marks if I can guess it in one?”

He pitched his voice low, just like his eyes, which trailed from her face to her breasts, and lower. “And what do I get when you guess wrong?”

“Ten marks, the same from me.”

Feyre didn’t have ten marks to spare, and from the way the sailor laughed in response, she could tell he knew it. And that he would demand something different, if she couldn’t pay her debt.

“Let’s make it twenty, then.”

Maybe he was hoping she would lose and he could force her to go back with him on his ship. She almost didn’t hate the idea. Seeing the world outside of Velaris, never worrying where her next meal was coming from, chasing the sea and sky and never looking back. If that freedom could be gained from fucking a male a few times each night, she couldn’t imagine it would be any less pleasant than sharing a filthy matress on the floor with her two sisters.

“Deal.”

She could scent the magic before she felt the subtle tingle on her skin. A small, delicate whorl etched itself onto her forearm, connecting to the pattern of blue-black swirls that stretched to her fingers like an intricate lace glove. A tribute to the many, many bargains she had made under this very roof.

They were a permanent mark of her poverty, and the things she’d needed to sacrifice to keep her family alive. Feyre was almost—almost—tempted to guess wrong, if only so she could go with him on his ship and spare another bargain from ever marring her skin.

“The Cauldron of Fate,” Feyre said, sitting back proudly on the bench. “A rare card. I’ve heard they’re hardly ever used outside of the playing halls for High Lords and their sons.” She cocked her head. “Did you steal it?”

The sailor’s face had slackened. A drunk male clamped a hand onto his shoulder, leaning to see the card before he howled, “No fucking way!”

A murmur swept through the tavern, though very few people were celebrating on Feyre’s behalf. Most of them were now likely contemplating how they’d win, or steal, the money off her.

“20 marks, please,” Feyre said with a slow smile.

“You cheated.”

“How?” She crossed her arms. “I didn’t touch your cards. Though, if there’s an issue, I’m sure the High Lord would be plenty interested to know how you came about—”

He whipped the money onto the table as he abruptly stood up. There was a dark look on his face that made Feyre edge back in her seat, just a bit.

“Thieving halfbreed whore,” he spat, swiping his tankard from the table and storming towards the door.

It wasn’t anything she hadn’t heard before, though she could feel the smooth curve of her ears burning as the eyes of the tavern turned their attention to her, to the features that marked her as other, even among the lesser fae. Feyre quickly pocketed the money and rose from the bench, elbowing her way through the crowd. She grit her teeth as she shouldered their passing jeers.

“Not gonna stay for another game, sweetheart?”

“Looking for more coin? I’ll give you another 10 if you let me take you upstairs. I’ve never had a halfbreed before”

Someone groped at her, and she yelped as she stumbled forward, into a male who spilled his tankard all over the front of her shirt. The ale had left him swaying and he only grumbled some nonsense about Feyre buying him a new drink before she was able to sidestep him, too, and quickly disappear up the stairs.

Their room was at the very top of the tavern, in the cramped attic that was as far away from the drinking and fucking as they could possibly get. They paid a reduced fee, since this room was hardly big enough to rent to customers looking for a quick fuck, and had otherwise just been used for storage.

Elain and Nesta were nowhere to be seen, which was just as well since they would likely have something to say about the stench of ale. She’d bathe in the Sidra tomorrow. For now, Feyre just wanted to hide the coin she’d won and go to bed without thinking about the tavern-goers or the spiteful sailor.

-

The wind clashed heavily against the sea, scattering white-foam tips across the surface of the inky water. It chopped against the shoreline in persistent, arrhythmic assaults, occasionally crashing into the rocks so violently that it sent the salt water skywards. The mist rained down over Feyre, clinging to her skin, the salt beginning to sting—just slightly—as it was agitated by a cool, whipping gust of air.

Feyre wondered why she didn’t come to the shore more often, especially when it was storming. The world was so alive here. The churning water and the hissing wind and the screaming gulls. It all rushed past her, crisp against her cheeks, tangling in her hair. She could breathe up here. So far away from the cramped attic she had fallen asleep in, where the air was stale and leached with the scent of mold and alcohol.

By the sea, nothing could contain her.

She leapt from the cliff face, stretching her arms to feel the rushing air as the water surged towards her. She laughed, though the sound was quickly torn away before it reached her ears. Then, just as she was about to greet the roiling surface, large membranous wings snapped out from behind her back, pulling her upwards until she was soaring towards the gray sky.

A lock of blue-black hair fell into her eyes. She reached up with an unfamiliar brown hand to push it out of the way. Ferye jolted a bit, to realize that she wasn’t in her own body. This was someone else, flying over the ocean, and the joy she felt building in her chest was not her own. This was someone who was drawn to the sea. Someone who was sharing this moment with her, lending this feeling of freedom that she had never known existed until she tasted the skies.

Feyre wondered if she should have let the sailor win, afterall.

[dreamlandreader]

Just a little collage I made for day one of @officialfeysandweek2023 ✨ The prompt for this was Night Triumphant and Stars Eternal so I took inspiration from that to create this collage which just gives me all the Feysand vibes ✨

[ilyamatic]

A Spoonful of Sugar

I am back? With more smut? Who am I?

CW: (Magical) Toys, a collar, edging, lingerie, and excessive use of italics

It started with an innocuous statement.

“I would like to see it,” Andrico had said.

Julian removed one of his boots and began his struggle with the other. He had just gotten home from rehearsal at the theater. It was a good night, they had made great progress, but he was tired. He could see himself sleeping for at least six hours for once.

“It won’t be too long now,” he said. “The director thinks we only need another month or so before we can premiere the play-”

“Do I have to wait?”

“To see the play?”

“No, to see you in heels.”

He had said it casually, oh so casually. Julian suddenly found his mouth a little drier than before.

“Well, uh, well I don’t have any here-”

“I can get a pair.”

Julian felt the heat creeping up his neck. “Oh, oh okay.”

The conversation had ended there and they went to bed. Andrico did not bring it back up in the morning or the next day or even the day after that. It soon seemed that seeing Julian in heels was a passing fancy, something pleasant but not worth pursuing. Julian eventually forgot it was even mentioned in time. His days were soon consumed with work, rehearsals, and the eventual play.

So his surprise was genuine when after a fortnight he walked into the bedroom to find his ‘gifts’. There was not only a pair of black pumps, but a matching lingerie set, stockings, and a collar with a tag that read ‘Drico’s baby’ laying on their bed. What was slightly less surprising was the butt plug and the note resting to the side. Andrico would not be Andrico if he didn’t add a little game. Julian walked over to the bed and picked up the note, scanning it quickly. It seemed he was to do nothing but get ready, do some things around the house, and look pretty in his new gifts. He hummed thoughtfully. That seemed simple enough. Had Andrico lost his touch?

______________________________________________________________

It had taken all but an hour for Julian to realize that no, Andrico had not lost his touch. He clawed at the counter, desperately trying to find purchase lest his buckling knees send him crashing to the ground. In hindsight he should have seen this coming. There was no way that it would be simple. Doing some things around the house? Easy. Doing some things around the house with a magical vibrating butt plug inside you that went off at random? Not so much. It was a pleasant surprise at first, a little thrill to break apart the monotony of washing dishes. But as time progressed the bursts got longer and more intense, all leading up to this. Julian panted against the marble surface. He wasn’t going to make it. He was going to die in precum soaked skivvies. No one would come to his funeral if they found out.

“Juju,” Andrico’s concern-tinged voice rang from the living room. “Are you alright?”

Thankfully, thankfully the vibrations stopped and Julian groaned in both loss and relief.

“Never better.”

“What color are we?”

Julian did not hesitate. “Green.”

His voice sounded rough to his own ears but he doubted his lover minded. Andrico preferred to see and hear all the ways that he wrecked him. Collecting himself, Julian made to stand straight. His knees were no longer in danger of giving out but he could little to stop the tremors in his hands as he picked up the other man’s drink. Ah, well. Here’s to hoping he didn’t spill it.

The walk back to the living room was blissfully uneventful. It seemed that Andrico was done tormenting him for the time being. He still made sure to move as quickly as his heels would allow to the armchair lest Andrico change his mind.

“Thank you mon amour,” his lover said as he took the glass.

Andrico took a long sip of his drink, humming satisfaction at the taste. He then turned his eyes back to him. Julian knew that he must of looked a sight. He was flushed down to his chest and his panties left nothing to the imagination. An indulgent look crossed his lover’s face. He leaned back languidly and patted his lap.

“You look tired, love. Come take a seat.”

Julian all but jumped at the chance. Finally. Desire buzzed along his skin as he straddled Andrico and tried to close the space between them. The little cloth that covered him was constricting and Andrico was far too covered. A large, warm hand caressed his thigh.

“Are you having fun Juju?” Andrico asked as he leaned in and peppered kisses along his jaw.

“Please,” Julian begged. “I need more.”

Andrico raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

He felt Andrico’s hand move and the vibrating began again. Julian nearly shouted as he gripped the other man’s shoulders tightly.

“Please,” he begged again. “Please, please, please.”

He could feel his lover smile against his throat. The vibrations intensified and Julian swore he saw stars. His hips began to move at a frantic pace searching for something, anything to ease the desire threatening to consume him.

Andrico seemed nonplussed, kissing and touching him like they had all the time in the world. It was maddening.

“Papi please,”

Andrico’s fingers danced across his chest, tweaking a nipple as he went along. “Hm?”

“I need more Papi,” Julian practically sobbed.

The vibrations intensified further.

“Ack, no! I want more of you!”

“More of me,” Andrico laughed. “But darling I am right here.”

Strong hands rested on his waist as he leaned back and canted his hips fruitlessly.

“No, no I want- I want you to fuck me. Please fuck me!” he pleaded. “I want your hard cock inside me. I need it Papi. Please give it to me! Please, please, please-”

As soon as they started the vibrations stopped. Julian leaned back forward but did not stop the movement of his hips. Andrico’s hand teased the edge of his underwear.

“You beg so pretty mon amour. Do you truly want me so badly?”

His love’s hand moved underneath his underwear, teasing the skin of his hip. He keened.

“Yes! Gods above yes!”

He felt as the wandering hand moved further back to his ass. It squeezed a butt cheek firmly before Julian felt fingers find the end of the plug. Slowly, ever so slowly it was pulled out of him and leaving him acutely aware of the loss. He did not feel empty for long however, as one of the fingers teased his hole. Andrico murmured his approval against his throat.

Julian did not see when Andrico slicked up his fingers but it mattered little as the first sank into him easily. Groaning, he buried his face into the other man’s neck. He felt the impatient buzzing of lust coiling in his gut but did not complain. While he felt that the butt plug had stretched him enough, Andrico would always ensure that he was fully prepared.

The second finger slid in. Julian’s breathing became heavier as they began to scissor.

“Please,” he panted. “Please.”

“You’re almost there my love,” Andrico murmured soothingly. “Just one more okay?”

Julian whined but let Andrico work him open. It felt like an eternity of scissoring and the occasional mind numbing sensation of his prostate being prodded. He almost wept at feeling the stretch of a third finger. Fingers stopped their work at the sound of an almost pained whimper.

“What color are we?”

“Please fuck me Papi. Please.”

“Fuck me isn’t a color,” he teased. "Now, what color are we?"

Julian swallowed thickly. “Green.”

“That’s my good boy.”

Andrico’s fingers began to pump once more. Desperate for friction, his hips began to roll in time. He began to think that maybe, maybe he would reach satisfaction. He was worked up enough to do it. But it was not before long he was left empty again and this time he did not stop a few tears from escaping. Full lips kissed them away, whispering ‘patience’ against his skin. The hand that was resting on his waist snaked between them and slid into Andrico's trousers while the other fumbled behind him, searching. Andrico made a triumphant sound as he pulled out the mystery bottle of oil and poured a generous portion in his hand.

It was not long before his lover pushed his panties to the side as far as he could and pressed the slick head of his cock against him. 

“Patience,” Andrico repeated.

They both moaned as the head breached him. Julian wanted nothing more than to sink down but a firm hand on his hip kept him steady. And so slowly they went, millimeter by millimeter, inch by inch, with him feeling every ridge and bump of a piercing. After an eon Julian was fully seated, each neuron firing in pleasure.  His eyes fluttered shut. 

“Julian, are you o-”

“I am not going to last,” he interrupted.

A thumb rubbed soothing circles on his hip. “That’s okay mon amour. You can come. Take your pleasure.”

Julian needed no further prompting.

He began slow, making sure he adjusted properly to his lover’s length. He reveled in the feeling of Andrico's hands on him and the sweet nothings pressed against his skin. But soon it was not enough. He wanted, no he needed more. Soon his hips began to move urgently, chasing the pleasure so graciously offered. Andrico gripped him tightly. The room was quickly filled with the sounds of moaned out praises and skin slapping skin.

"You are so good," Andrico said breathlessly as he palmed Julian's trapped cock. "You are so good for me."

Julian choked out a sob as he rode him harder.

"You are so good and you are so pretty," Andrico continued. "What did I do to deserve you hm? You are the loveliest man I have every seen.. You wondrous thing."

He felt tears prick his eyes once more. Only Andrico, this mischievous yet darling man would get romantic while getting ridden like a bull. He stifled another sob.

Kisses were pressed against his sternum as a skillful hand worked him through the cloth. The other hand found his jaw and angled his head down, bringing him face to face with his love.

"There you are," Andrico whispered.

Julian found it hard to look at him. Andrico's face was full of naked adoration. Brown eyes drank him in like he hung the moon and crafted the stars. Like he was the only thing that mattered in the entire world. He looked at him like he loved him.

It was all too much.

"Andrico!"

His voice bounced off the walls as he screamed in release. Everything coalesced into a single point and nothing else mattered but them in that moment. He was drowning, he was flying. Julian hardly registered Andrico following him over the edge shortly after, the sudden rush of warmth his only indication. 

There was a buzzing in Julian's limbs. He slumped bonelessly against a heaving chest, mind blissfully blank. He rested against his lover's chest for time everlasting, listening as the other man steadied his breathing. Andrico chuckled.

"Well, that was something."

Julian nodded in agreement, or at least he thought he did. A kiss was placed lovingly on his forehead. 

"Do you think you can walk?"

If Julian had the presence of mind he would have snorted. He wasn't quite sure if his soul had returned from whatever plane it had run off to.

Andrico, bless him, figured that his love had yet to return to reality and asked no further questions. He simply wrapped his arms around his thighs. 

"Well, luckily I brought the aftercare kit downstairs. Up we go-"

Andrico only stumbled slightly as he lifted them both off the chair.

"Shit Juju, I've been feeding you well, haven't I? You've gotten heavy! Really glad I brought everything downstairs now…"

Julian hummed as he was carried and gently placed on the sofa. Andrico started to shuffle next to him, taking stock of the things he brought with him. 

"Ah shit," he muttered. "Mon amour, I forgot the water.  Do you mind if I-"

A snore startled him out of his monologue. After a quick evaluation of the man on the sofa, Andrico snorted.

"Yeah, you're fine."

[alectoperdita]

Fictober - Day 12

prompt: “watch me” fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters pairing: Jounouchi Katsuya/Kaiba Seto rating: mature warnings: mild sexual content a/n: They have their own call-and-response—a challenge issued and always taken.

"You wouldn't dare."

Kaiba pried off the fingers encircling one wrist. The hand that once tried to hold him captive fell away, leaving a trail of raised goosebumps down the underside of his arm.

"Yeah? Watch me." 

Low, rumbling laughter disturbed the sheets, accompanied by the flash of a cocky grin, before the other body rolled out of bed, leaving behind a rapidly cooling spot in his wake. 

The phrasal template—a well-practiced call-and-response—had repeated itself countless times over their lengthy acquaintance. (And if Kaiba allowed himself to think about it for more than a few seconds, he'd also recognize it as his most lasting relationship outside of his familial bond with Mokuba. More enduring than even the rivalry he once thought would be eternal.) Once upon a time, they spiced the exchange with insulting names like "deadbeat" or "asshole" and the hint of a threat to go with bared teeth. While the hostilities of their hot-headed youth morphed into inquisitive invitations, it remained a challenge at its essence. 

Kaiba rolled over to watch Jounouchi rummage through his walk-in, all the while flaunting his naked, muscular ass. Kaiba's gaze traced the taut muscles of his glutes, down his firm thighs to his toned calves. At least his bed partner had been so kind to provide the eye candy if he was going to invite Kaiba to watch him. 

Several moments later, Jounouchi made a happy, triumphant noise before returning to bed with two silk ties, one dyed a deep crimson red and the other as black as night with a sparse pattern of pinhole stars, draped over his forearm. The tail ends of both dangled low, drawing Kaiba's attention to his half-erect cock. 

Silk tickled and caressed at Kaiba's abdomen as Jounouchi slid back into bed, pushed him on his back, and straddled him. He pressed forward and laid an almost-chaste kiss over Kaiba's sternum, still tantalizingly dragging the ties across his belly in a way that made his skin crawl, albeit pleasantly. While Jounouchi's warm mouth mapped a meandering path up his neck and jaw, Kaiba settled his hands on the small of Jounouchi's back to stroke his heated skin.

Once again, Jounouchi's laugh rumbled against his chin. "That's right. You better touch while you still can. Cuz in two seconds, I'm gonna tie those handsy paws of yours to the headboard."

Inserting a thigh between Jounouchi's legs, Kaiba flipped them with a vicious smile. He ground down on Jounouchi's arousal, causing him to buck and gasp with needy pleasure. Kaiba took hold of both ties and dropped them next to Jounouchi's head. The silk pooled like snakes entangled in a pit. With one hand still pinning Jounouchi's hip to the mattress, he clasped his chin and tilted it back, forcing him to arch and bare his neck. Kaiba held him in that position for a while, watching as Jounouchi squirmed and turned red in a satisfying mix of mortification and lust. 

"You had your chance and wasted it," taunted Kaiba as he released Jounouchi to retrieve the red tie. The color would compliment Jounouchi's golden hair and sun-kissed complexion beautifully. "Per usual. So I'll raise your previous suggestion and offer you the following: you blindfolded and hands bound behind you back while I fuck you on your knees until you can't remember your name." 

Jounouchi bucked his hips, but not in any meaningful way that might dislodge Kaiba from atop of him. A minor show of resistance, while his cock hardened against Kaiba's belly. 

"You wouldn't," he spat, defiance burning bright in his amber eyes as his body trembled with delicious anticipation. 

Again, falling back on their age-old call-and-response because neither could admit to wanting what was being offered to them. 

Kaiba quirked his lips with a hint of irony in his answer. "Watch me. Or don’t, in this specific case," he chuckled and covered Jounouchi's fierce gaze with silk.

Check out other puppy/violetshipping ficlets I’m writing all #fictober20 long

[ladyofmaidensandwine]

Blood and Blade

Part Two of the All’s Not Fair in Love and War Series

For the Pick Two Challenge by @justagirlinafandomworld​

This is part two of an ongoing series I am writing. If you would like to be tagged, let me know.

Prompts:  Enemies to Lovers AU, and the dialogue “If you touch him/her/them, I’ll kill you.”

Characters: Dean Winchester, Fem! Irish! Reader, John Winchester, Crowley, Lucifer (mentioned), Charlie Bradbury, Sam Winchester

Wordcount: 2,602

Summary: Confronted by an unexpected face from your past, Dean demands the truth. An unlikely alliance is formed in the face of certain death, and unexpected secrets will be revealed.

Series Masterlist

            “Tell me everything, Y/N. Tell me the truth. Who are you really?” Dean demanded. You studied his emerald green eyes, measured their intensity, and gave a slow nod. “Fergus McLeod killed my parents when I was but a babe, and then slammed me into Hell as a punishment for inciting rebellion.” Dean frowned as you skirted past his question, but didn’t let his hard expression falter. “Why are you here?” Dean asked. “Not because of the King, not because of the labor camp, nor due to the contract. Why are you really here?” He added. You paled slightly. You had thought your carefully crafted exterior hid your ulterior motives, but somehow, this sharp-eyed, stubborn, and charming Prince had seen right through you. He knew. He knew the truth, he wanted to hear you say it. You set your shoulders back and raised your chin a notch, face a mask of unfeeling coldness, eyes as hard as diamonds. “I’m here to-”

                  You stopped, brows furrowed, a hand instinctively moving to your hip, grazing the thick grey cloth of your skirts. Dean’s head snapped to the door, neither of you daring to so much as breathe. You made eye contact, and a look of understanding passed between the two of you. Silence fell thickly outside the door to Dean’s private chambers, the shadow of someone’s boots pooling in the polished marble floors.

          The door slammed open, the force sending the finely crafted wood flying in splinters, and you had no time to think, only to act. Weapon, you needed a weapon- your hands lunged blindly and you felt the solid and heavy weight of an ornate candelabra in your hand. Two men, both stocky, rushed into the room where Dean had already drawn his sword, but one look at the abysmally dark pits that were their eyes, you knew a single blade would not help you. The closest to you moved fast, but you were faster. Even after the time you’d been imprisoned, your honed reflexes were still as reliable as they’d always been, and you moved in a blur of gleaming metal and dove grey lace. You swept his feet from under him, and before he had the chance to react, used his momentum to send him soaring over your shoulder, slamming him into the ground, and bashing the candlestick into his skull. 

            Dean turned to you, eyes wide in shock and surprise. You panted slightly, and he unsheathed a pair of daggers from his belt. He was silent, face impassive as he offered them to you, but you understood his bargain. The olive branch had been extended in the form of deadly blades and an agreement to have one another’s backs. “Demons. We must act quickly. There are hidden tunnels beneath us, are there not?” You asked hurriedly, though your tone was calm, voice unwavering. “Yes. I won’t ask how you know that.” He frowned. “Gather as many people as you can, and get them out.” You said firmly. “And leave you? To do what, exactly?” Dean scoffed. “Now is not the time to quarrel. I can hold my own, Your Majesty.” You said, curtsying mockingly as Dean rolled his eyes. “As you wish.” He sneered. You twirled the daggers deftly between your fingers, and as you looked at Dean, he saw a sort of bloodthirsty fire there, and simply nodded his head. You let a smirk spread over your lips, and allowed the predator within to show. A wolf stalked the palace, a wolf in a woman’s body, fangs of iron, heart of stone.

             Somewhere in the chaos, Dean connected with his younger brother, the two Princes fending off demons as they hurried people into the hidden entrance of the tunnels. Charlie, Captain of the Royal Guard, had ordered her forces to only attack you as self-defense, understanding that a shaky alliance had been forged against a mutual enemy. You, however, were nowhere to be seen, no sign of your existence save for the trail of bodies left in your wake.

            Silent. You were so silent, it was eerie, appearing from the shadows with a determined swiftness, so efficient that by the time anyone knew you were there, there was a knife buried to the hilt in their chest. You moved methodically, choosing corridors and halls with plenty of places to hide and a good vantage point, sometimes stalking your quarry with the unnerving, preternatural stillness and patience of a predator, hunting them down, and offering no mercy except that of a quick death. Morrigan, Queen of Thieves, Lady of Death, all names well-earned. You made killing an art, but not out of enjoyment. There was more there, a glimpse of sympathy hiding behind an eternally angry fire and cold eyes, more than vengeance in that dangerous smirk. So carefully hidden, this vulnerable human side of you, the part that could vomit at the sight of the carnage you caused, the part that wept and sobbed upon waking from a nightmare in which you were haunted by the faces of those you’ve loved and lost, and those you’d looked in the eye as they died at your hands. Steady, those hands, so firm and certain as they held a silvery blade. The demons within you were not the kind that could be exorcised.

                    You disappeared into the gloom of the tunnels, nothing but the weak and quickly dying light of the occasional torch to guide you, but you knew where you were going. You had never needed sight to find your way, as sure of your directions as anyone with a map could ever be. You were nearly stabbed as a member of the guard struck out at you, unable to discern your figure from a possible threat, leaning away and deflecting the blow with the dagger Dean lent you.

           “If you would refrain from decapitating me, I would be most gracious.” You said dryly, thoroughly unimpressed by the guards. “At ease.” Dean called, shouldering his way past the soldiers towards you. He was silent for a moment, surveying you with a critical gaze, searching for obvious injuries, of which you sported few. “How many?” He questioned. You shrugged. “Too many to count. The rest of your men can handle it now. The surprise of the attack caught them off-guard, but the numbers can be managed.” You reported, scanning the crowd of faces behind Dean. He nodded with a sigh, jaw set. Crown Prince he may be, but he was a warrior too, one that would rather die alongside his fellow soldiers than run with the civilians. You understood how he felt. Once, you had made a similar decision. The bandolier of knives slung over chest gleamed faintly in the firelight, one hand resting almost casually on the hilt of his sword. “We should keep moving. The palace is not safe, and your father was already escorted away.” You suggested, slipping behind Dean and to the front of the group. “I understand you do not trust me, but as of now, I am your ally. I hate Crowley and all he stands for, as well as those with him, far more than I hate the good King of Lawrence.” You said clearly. Dean’s lips curled into a small smirk, nodding. “You must truly hate Crowley, then.” Charlie spoke up. You snorted a laugh. “You haven’t the slightest.”

                      Dean watched you carefully. He was slightly behind you, placing himself between you and the others as an instinct. His emerald eyes were calculating, studying you. Blood smeared on your cheek, just slightly darker than the red of your lipstick. You’d cut through your skirts, leaving them above the knee for mobility, and your hair was mussed, small scratches and cuts scattered over your arms and legs. You looked a mess, and yet your eyes were clear, sharper and with more focus than he’d seen them before, body relaxed, but ready for action in an instant. You were in your element, adrenaline coursing through your veins, fingers still spinning those perfectly balanced daggers skillfully, the color of blood that was, he realized, not yours enhancing your eyes. His fathers words rang through his head. “Murder, son. Many, many counts of murder...”

               Dawn had arrived, the deeper indigos and rich blue-black of the night sky slowly replaced by subtle grey and soft rosy pink. A few lone stars hung glittering above the horizon, the full moon illuminating the rolling hills enough for them to see the bulky and stocky shape of the stronghold they were headed towards. Neither you, nor Dean, had let go of your weapons, waiting for the next attack as the civilians wearily trudged onwards. “How much farther?” You asked quietly. “Perhaps half a kilometre.” Dean answered, noting your frown. “What is it?” He queried. “Is it not strange that they would willingly allow both Princes to so easily escape? Something about this does not bode well.” You said seriously, exchanging an uneasy look with Dean. “I know. The best I can hope for is that the guards can get the people to safety.” Dean sighed, expression taut. So much responsibility, such a heavy weight. The gold of his crown reflected in the moonlight, and you wondered if he felt the burden of his entire kingdom resting upon his brow each time he wore it. “Then let us make haste, Your Majesty.” You gestured, flashing him a crooked grin. “I hate when you call me that.” Dean muttered blankly, but you caught the twitch of his lips as he fought a smile. “Crown Prince Dean, loathing his title. Next I’ll discover you don’t bathe in gold coins and rubies as large as a bird’s egg.” You snickered. That one got you a laugh, your eyes smug and smile triumphant.

              Close enough to see the flag flying atop the turrets of the stronghold, the urgency kicked in as the civilians were rushed towards the prospect of safety. You counted the steps left to take in your head. 1,000 steps away, an arrow pierced through the gap in a soldier’s metal armor. The people screamed, and Prince Sam quickly tried to regain control whilst you and Dean readied yourselves for battle. Charlie called out orders to hold the defensive line and to keep moving, but more arrows fell from the sky like rain, most bouncing off shields, but some wounding or killing both soldier and civilian. Dean’s expression shifted in an instant, and gone was the cocky grin, the cool amusement, replaced by cold steel and green eyes lit from within by an angry, righteous flame.

               The pair of you were efficient, Dean’s sword and your knives doing serious damage as the archers abandoned their bows and charged your group. He shielded you when he could, and you made quick work of would-be assailants attempting to take the Crown Prince by surprise. Something in the dynamic between you shifted, there on the battlefield, both spattered with blood and streaked with dirt, that former uneasy and hesitant trust replaced as you became strong defenders and fearsome allies. The Prince and the Assassin, Defenders of the Crown. You could laugh at the thought, and for a moment, the long-dormant place inside you that had once been alive in vivid colours created a mental image, two figures side-by-side, one in gleaming golden tones, the other a silhouette in silver, a brief flicker of something you’d paint if it had been long ago.

            Cresting the hilltop against the bronze of the rising sun, the King’s vast army rode on sure-footed steeds, armor a bright and shining wave of silver and gold to change the tide of the battle. Dean met your eyes, sharing in the sense of impending victory, before he cleaved a demon in half with one stroke of his sword, your own daggers finding their way into the throat and gut of two more. Sam had been flanked by the King’s soldiers, the common people and nobility rescued and ushered towards the stronghold. You and Dean remained, a lethal pair, carving a path through the attackers with both blood and blade, never ceasing even as you took a heavy mace to the shoulder, and Dean was stabbed in the thigh. There would be no retreat, from either side, but a few more cowardly individuals recognized the impending loss and fled, the numbers dwindling into something more manageable. By the time the sky burned red and blazing orange, clouds tinged pink and gold, the fields were littered with corpses both human and Other, the survivors being taken forcibly into custody. Again, the Crown Prince met your eyes, and nodded a solemn thanks, to which you gave a crooked smile and mocking bow. It would seem the unlikely alliance would survive another day.

               Dean refused to leave to be treated until you were also seen to, a handmaiden sighing exasperatedly and finally escorting you towards a private room which connected to Dean’s own chambers. The bustle of people distracted you from the pain of your various injuries, eyes taking in all the exits and cataloguing every twist and turn, memorizing faces. Another skill you could never forget, ingrained deeply in your instincts.

          “I can take care of these myself.” You insisted to a nurse as she tried to inspect a cut over your shoulder. “Let her assist you, Y/N.” Dean said sternly. meeting your eyes with furrowed brows. You sighed and rolled your eyes, but ceased you protests. Dean was made to leave and you were scrubbed and then dressed in night attire which smelled suspiciously of Dean’s earthy cologne, but was in any case a better alternative to another ridiculous dress. 

             “Your cover is blown, you realize.” Dean said. He stepped into your room, looking less like the future King, and more like a man. An exceedingly handsome man, you admitted. “I suppose now your father will kill me.” You replied, lifting your chin slightly. “He will wish to, but he can’t. You’re under my jurisdiction, Y/N.” Dean smirked, leaning against the door frame with his hands tucked into his pockets as you stilled on the bed. “Am I to take this as you saying you don’t wish to kill me, Your Majesty?” You blinked slowly, expression betraying your confusion. “I- I may have judged you too harshly. In any case, you fought by my side, risked your life, cover, and safety to protect my people. You deserve to be hailed as a hero, not a criminal.” Dean said seriously, inspecting you closely to gauge your reactions. He frowned when you let out a loud laugh. “You’re not jesting? This is serious?” You asked incredulously. “Your Majesty, I will always be a killer, no matter what you now wish to call me. You will be making many people very angry if you stand for me against your father.” You pointed out. Dean smirked again, shrugging. “Old bastard has it coming. I am not the same man as my father, Y/N, and you are not your reputation. I don’t need to know the details of your past, nor your identity. You could have killed me at least a dozen different times this night, and many others. I trust you.” Dean stared you down, not allowing you to escape the sincere intensity of his deep pine eyes. “You’re mad.” You stated. “Perhaps.” He grinned back. “Well, then. To the death of all reason, Your Majesty.” You toasted, raising a crystal glass of wine in his direction. “I’ll drink to that. It’s Dean. Just Dean.” He said firmly. “As you wish, Crown Prince Just Dean.” This time, you both laughed.

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[rhysand-vs-fenrys]

Fan Art Challenge 2k19: Set a timer for 15 minutes and draw the prompt given to you. No matter how bad, post the image as an answer to this ask. Your prompt is: Feyre at starfall.

This is really nice and all, but I absolutely do not draw, I’m nothing short of awful, haha. Instead, what about like a 15 minute fic? Draw with words & no editing? That’s what my Cazriel fic was. So with the theme of “Feyre at Starfall”, let’s see what I can do in 15 minutes ^_^

Before I begin, I’m tagging @aelin-and-feyre, @ladyvanserra, @foxboylucien, @fredsbootyisfine, @runningquill-writing, and @illyrianinterrasen to spend 15 minutes EITHER writing or drawing a theme of: Your favorite ship from ACOTAR meeting your favorite ship from ToG at a pub/cafe :)

Feyre at Starfall

Their last Starfall together was overshadowed by Hybern’s impending invasion and the lingering stain Amarantha had left on the Night Court.

This one would be a wholly unfettered celebration.

Feyre smiled brightly as Nuala and Cerridwen braided a net of small crystals into her hair. The last Starfall introduced her to Velaris as the Stars Eternal, but this time she wanted to play a different role. The role of Rhysand’s mate and equal- her own version of Night Triumphant. 

The shimmering beads were tiny, almost as invisible as the silken threads that bound them. As Nuala laid the netting atop her head the beads vanished entirely. Cerridwen dimmed the lights in the bedroom and held a candle as close to Feyre’s hair as she dared. The effect was immediate.

An aura of light reflected off the stones, shimmering with no clear source. It was a radiance brighter and more tangible than when Feyre unleashed the glow of Dawn beneath her skin. Combined with the midnight black of her dress and the kohl that lined blue-gray eyes, she looked like Night reborn. A piece of heaven itself captured in fae form.

Her gown had no adornment. Obsidian adorned her ears and throat, but she would wear no crown this year. With the halo of crystal she didn’t need it.

“They are waiting downstairs for you,” Nuala smiled at the effect her new invention had. It would be the talk of Starfall, and from experience she knew within hours orders for similar nets would arrive.

“Thank you,” Feyre stood and hugged her handmaids before leaving the bedroom to join her sister downstairs.

Elain had opted to take the form of Dusk this Starfall. She wore a gown of deep blue that shimmered with stones of a soft pink or yellow. Her hair was braided down her back, and rose-gold diamonds hung from her ears.

Nesta didn’t particularly give a shit what the theme of the night might be, so once she heard Elain and Feyre declare their choices she simply declared that she would join their little band.

Black fabric heavily inlaid with obsidian and cut glass hugged her throat and joined seamlessly to black gloves. Her hair was tucked into a severe knot at the back of her head, and a net of black diamonds held it together.

She was the Nesta who emerged from the Cauldron that horrible night in Hybern. The shimmering black of the dress was the water that she escaped from. Except now Nesta was no victim of that strange and brutal power- she was its mistress, and after tonight no fae would ever be able to forget that what flowed through her veins wasn’t merely power, but the fabric of creation itself.

—

I have 3 seconds left but that seems like a good stopping place!

[amemixfan]

L&L AU Prompt (for either Helena or Saerys): MC was originally from the retainers world, one of the Reiner's retainers and have fought in the war with the Witch Queen. After the end of the battle and years of peace, she gets transported to Chicago and meets Chicago!LI. (Where the other world LI either doesn't exist, died, an enemy, or have never met MC. Make any changes you like.)

I chose Helena for this one, and it gets a little sad. Small allusions to her newest season. 

———

When the war ended, I envisioned ringing applause. I expected thunderous cheers and victorious cries. I expected the domains to burst into motion and the roar of a people triumphant at last blaring through the world. 

However, what I never expected was silence. 

Silence fills the air around us. It is a deafening sound, louder than any cheer. The entire world seems to be quiet, biting its tongue and holding its breath, and we stand still. 

After years of war after war, it is over. The Witch Queen lies dead at our feet. Her crown is in shatters in my hands and my adrenaline is still pumping through my veins. 

My fists squeeze the remnants of the crown in my hand. I hear them crack and bend. My skin is pierced by the glass fragments and I feel a river of red fall from my hand and into the ground below. 

I can scarcely believe this. She is gone. Evil has been defeated and peace is now filling the atmosphere and taking its place. War recedes into the shadows of history and sunlight breaks through the Witch Queen’s eternal night. The world is plunged into light and the earth returns with life. 

I let the fragments of the crown fall. They crumble into tiny, glass stars on the grass. The sound of them breaking even further breaks through the dull roar of silence. 

“Is it done?” Someone asks. 

Altea. She is resting against her staff and her face is full of pallor. The fight had taken much out of her, depleted her magic, and sweat clings the hair of her bangs to her forehead. She is panting and her hands shake. 

Someone else steps forward. August. He is limping and a trail of blood runs red down his forehead. An ugly gash delivered by Magnus has pierced the skin and I don’t miss the way his hand presses to the wound. It hurts him, but he is too stubborn to loose consciousness now. 

He kneels before the corpse of the Witch Queen. She’s sprawled on the ground. Dark, raven hair frames her head like a twisted halo. Her face is whiter than the pale it once was, her eyes are open and white, black veins cross across her face and body, and her dress lies in tatters against her skin. A woman so powerful that the sun was blotted out by her magic is now nothing more than a corpse upon a battlefield. 

What a fitting end death is to the one that brought so much of it into the world. 

“She is dead,” I reply, “And I am glad for it.”

I stare down at my hands. I broke her crown myself, the source of her magic, and the pieces have cut me. There are jagged cuts to my palms and tiny fragments are buried in my skin. I pay them no mind. The adrenaline coursing through me erases the pain and soreness of war. 

I take a step forward towards the corpse. Reiner has shouldered to the front. His armor is scuffed from battle, his nose is heavily bleeding, and he looks exhausted. There is gray to the mess of red hair on his head, stress has aged him early, and he seems almost like an apparition as he gazes at the enemy that brought him so much pain and suffering. 

“The war is over. What remains of her scattered Generals will be dealt with accordingly. We made the mistake of allowing them to live after the first war. We won’t do it again,” Reiner announces. His eyes are frozen on the Witch Queen’s corpse. Like the many around us, he can scarcely believe it is done with. 

I feel ill suddenly. I have wanted the end of this war for decades, have fantasized about the very moment in which I got to see evil’s incarnate destroyed, but now my victory rings hollow. My pulse pounds in my ears and I want to remove myself from the battlefield as fast as possible. 

She should be here. She should be here celebrating with me. She should be at my side finally able to rest and breathe and break free, but she’s not. 

I take a shallow breath that shakes my shoulders. Bile rises in my throat and I spin around. I march away, armor clanking against the grass, and ignore the retainers calling after me. I’ll explain to them what happened once I’m away from the smell of blood and carnage. 

The edges of the battlefield provide solace. I press myself against a tree and remember how to breathe. My gasps come out quiet and pained. I feel like tearing at my hair but settle for running my fingers through the mess of dark strands instead. 

I should be overwhelmed with joy. I should be screaming from the rooftops about the ended war. I should be full of immense relief and pleasure. 

But instead I just feel numb. 

What good is it to be joyful if I don’t have the one person I love more than life at my side?

The love of my life is gone from this world. She was taken from me by the very monster that now lies dead feet away. My entire reason for fighting was to give her a future, but her life was cut short long ago. 

I press my hands to my knees and bend over. Bile climbs up my throat but never makes it. Instead, I squeeze my eyes shut and breathe. I take long breaths of air just because I can. Breathe because I am alive and my lungs still work while my lover’s don’t. Breathe until my sides ache from the strain and the pain reminds me that I am privileged and fortunate. Death has not taken me yet, but it has destroyed me all the same. 

Helena. Her name pains me still. I believed that time would numb me from her death, but the wounds in me are still as raw as the day they were torn into my heart. 

If I close my eyes now, tune out the sounds of armor and soldiers commanding the remnants of the Witch Queen’s forces to surrender, I can almost see her. I can see the woman I loved more than life itself before me. Her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, her blue eyes staring warmly at me, lips whispering my name reverently as she holds me close-

And her corpse sprawled before me. The blood pooling at her sides, the life leaving her gaze, and her body growing still. 

I tear myself out of that recollection and go back to breathing. It takes every ounce of strength that I have not to break down. I force the image away until it is nothing more than a blemish on my memory. I claw at it until it is gone from existence and snuffed out like a candle light. 

Helena was my world. My reason for fighting. I had never meant to fall in love with the repentant General of my own doppelgänger but it had happened as naturally as the sun rose in the horizon. Helena and Alain had defected midway through the war. The Witch Queen had finally showed them her true colors, and they had decided that they would no longer be the villains in history. 

They had arrived seeking an alliance with Reiner. Reiner had given them the opportunity to prove their loyalties. They had joined the war on our sides. Helena had worked alongside me to take down the Witch Queen once and for all. 

Our time together had been brief, but it had been enough. Love had bloomed like a rose between us. I learned to love the woman that had suffered so much in life yet still persisted. Helena learned to love the girl that had sworn her loyalty to Reiner as a child and still remained ever loyal at his side as an adult. We had grown to be each other’s soulmates and reason for living. Our life was full of talks about the future and what we would do once peace won over war-

But that had been cut short. During a battle, I had gotten distracted. In the midst of fighting Lennox, I had left myself open for an attack. The Witch Queen had seized it and attempted to kill me. Helena, unable to stop the attack with her magic due to her blind panic, had jumped before me and taken it. The attack had cut through her and she had died before her body could hit the ground. 

I take more shuddering breaths and bow my head. Sweat beads on my brow and I wipe it away. My heart is racing and my mind whirls with terrible memories. 

It had taken every ounce of my strength not to kill myself then. What good was a world where the joy had been cut out of it? Why fight a war now when my entire reason for fighting lay dead before me? I had all but decided to follow her in death, but the retainers had stopped me. 

Don’t die, they had pleaded with me, avenge her. Destroy the Witch Queen and live for Helena. She’d want you to live. 

I press my fists against my eyelids to prevent tears. I am all out of crying. My breath comes out quick. 

Now that my mission has been accomplished, my love avenged, what keeps me in this world?

———

The inn belonging to the Falkes is in full swing when I arrive. News of the end of the war has spread like wildfire. Tired soldiers scrounge up some energy for celebration, alcohol runs like a steady stream, and music flows everywhere. The entire world rejoices at the end of its suffering. 

I sit on the bar-top nursing a pint of fairy ale. It is bitter on my tongue and I find no comfort in the way it burns down my chest. I drink because I need the distraction, not because I enjoy the taste. 

To one side, the retainers are detailing the final battle. Altea’s hands spark with magic as she punctuates her stories, Iseul hangs by her to act out his own fighting stances, and Saerys provides his own commentary. August hangs with Heloise and gives her a full run down of what the final battle was like. Reiner discusses things with council members and draws plans on a napkin of what will be done when reparations begin. Even Alain, out of place in his teals and whites, looks relieved for the war’s end and hangs hesitantly by the retainers. 

Everyone is celebrating the end of the war. Everyone except me. 

I pinch the bridge of my nose and squeeze my eyes shut. 

She should be here with me now. Helena and I should be sitting next to the retainers. She should be talking about the war and how it had ended. I should be bragging to everyone who would listen that my love had outshined us all and saved the world. 

I should have had her at my side. 

A hand is placed on my shoulder. I look over to the side and recognize Queen Ishara. The Elven Queen has a cut to the side of her face, where a blade had nicked her, yet her eyes are bright. She is victorious and war has only brightened her spirit. 

“Will you not join the festivities? You are the one that crushed the Witch Queen’s crown. People want to hear the story from your own lips,” the Queen states. She takes the seat next to me without invitation and gazes at me. 

I bite the inside of my cheek. 

I crushed the crown in my fists, destroyed the source of her evil magic, and kept the shattered pieces. The Crown’s centerpiece is in my pocket. It is heavy and burns me if I touch it. I have kept it for the sole reminder that my love has been avenged. 

“I am tired,” I murmur, “I wish to retire.”

I look away and drain the last of my drink. The fairy alcohol scorches my throat as it descends. I hide my displeasure at the taste. 

Ishara’s eyes have dimmed a bit. Motherly concern burns in her gaze and I see sympathy begin. 

She knows I am hurting. Whether she knows it because of her seeing gifts or just by mother’s intuition, she is aware of my pain. Her hand reaches out for my shoulder. 

“You have avenged her,” her voice is soft, “you can rest now.”

I square my jaw until my teeth almost crack. I don’t want to think about revenge anymore. 

Revenge had driven me daily. Revenge had roused me from sleep and dragged me to battlefield after battlefield. Revenge had kept me warm when the campfires were low. Revenge had kept me company when Helena’s memory had taunted me. 

Now that I have fulfilled it, I feel empty inside. It is almost ironic. Killing the Witch Queen only made me feel worse. The Witch Queen is dead, yet Helena is not here. I don’t know why I expected vengeance to taste sweet when it is the most bitter taste I have ever swallowed. 

My life is empty without her in it. What is life without meaning? Am I truly alive or just surviving?

Ishara’s touch begins to burn. I loathe receiving sympathy and want to be left alone. Loneliness kills but perhaps I am ready to leave. 

“I will sleep when I am dead,” I argue. I evade Ishara’s grasp. 

Ishara’s lips purse. My answer has worried her, and perhaps we both have a reason to worry. I am not sure I would mind eternal rest, so maybe she does have a reason to look upon me now with anxiety. 

“I see a blank spot in your future,” the Elven Queen admits, “I cannot see past these next few weeks. Please, do not do anything foolish. She would want you to live.”

I scoff and look away. My hands go into my pockets and I spin around. My room in the inn is upstairs, I am at my limit with society. 

“We do not always get what we want. She wanted me to live, and I wanted her to live.”

———

The bed feels emptier without Helena in it. I have never truly realized how large a bed is until I did not have her at my side. If I rest on my back and stretch my arms, I have more than enough space. The sheets are cold, the mattress longs for her form, and I am struck by the loneliness of it all.  

Sleep does not come easy, it died with her in that battle field, and I toss and turn. Every once in a while I will fade into unconsciousness, drift across the space between sleep and wakefulness, but I am always roused away by a nightmare. I see her in my dreams, yearn for her, and wake myself up with fresh tears. 

At some point, I abandon my rest and sit up. My fingers go to the gem in my pocket. 

The Witch Queen’s crown had been a powerful item. The stone at the center glints ominously in the light. It burns to the touch, yet I welcome the pain. 

Pain means I am not dreaming. Pain means she is truly gone and I have her crown as proof. Pain means Helena has finally been allowed to rest after a long war-

But, more importantly, pain means I am still alive. Life is a curse, but it is a punishment I take eagerly. Helena died to protect me, the least I can do is prevent her sacrifice from being in vain. 

I prop myself up on the window ledge. The Falke Inn overlooks the woods. Moonlight pours through and cascades around me. If only I could drown in it. Drowning in moonlight seems better than wading through darkness. 

I turn the crown’s centerpiece over in my fingers. Dark magic coils from it and whispers around me. Temptation’s bony fingers reach out to me and promise me anything my heart desires. 

I stifle its attempt and grit my teeth. The Witch Queen took the crown because it promised her power, but I will not make her same mistake. The thing I yearn for the most is my beloved, but I am not foolish. I know I will not see her again. 

I look away from the gem and up at the sky. A shooting star blazes a trail overhead. I squeeze my eyes shut and bite my lip. 

Despite my earlier thoughts, I still find myself wishing to see Helena again. 

And, as always, my plea will go unanswered. 

———

As a favor to me, Reiner set up Helena’s grave in his castle. Her resting place is nestled next to the Wolfson family, and her name is carved lovingly into the marble grave marker. 

I kneel before the spot and trace my fingers over every curve of her name. This place will never truly bring me peace, but it does make the impossibility of being alone sink in. 

“It is over,” I whisper. “She cannot hurt you any longer.”

My forehead presses to Helena’s gravestone. I will the gods to carry my message to her. Surely she can listen to me now. 

We are soulmates, I believe that firmly. Wherever she goes, I go. I feel her presence even if it is just a whisper of grief. I choose to believe that she knows. I want to believe that she remains by my side even now that death has torn us apart. 

I bring my lips to her gravestone and press a kiss there. The stone is cold on my skin, but I will myself to pretend that she is here. If I concentrate, I can still feel her touch on my skin. 

My eyes begin to burn and I blink them away. Helena would not want me to cry, not over her. 

I wipe angrily at my eyes and stand up. 

I love her and miss her so much. Were death to strike me down now, I would not mind it. If I could see her again, I would accept my fate. 

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I curl my fingers over the jewel. As always, the magic burns my skin and sends pricks of pain through my body. I do not mind it. Pain means I  am alive whether I want to be or not. 

———

Reiner turns the crown’s jewel over in his hands. His lips are thin and Altea hovers over his shoulder with a book in hand. I grind my teeth together as they analyze my trophy. 

“Her magic remains,” Altea murmurs. She flips through books faster than her eyes can read. She searches for a way to deactivate the gem. 

I bite my lower lip. 

“Can you break It?” I ask. 

I can feel the remnants of the Witch Queen’s magic from what remains of the crown. It pulses with unholy life and leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I want to rid myself of it as quickly as possible. 

The sooner all traces of her are gone, the sooner I can go back to mourning Helena in peace. 

Altea gazes at her book again and her mouth purses. 

“There is a ritual to cleanse it of the magic. It may or may not work. Are you sure you want this?”

Her eyes meet mine and I see her worry. The ritual is a dangerous one and so many things can go wrong. She hopes that I will change my mind. 

I won’t. If the ritual is dangerous, I am even more tempted. I am long past the point of caring about my own wellbeing. Any respite from the hollowness I feel in me is a welcome gift. 

“I am sure. Perform the ritual.”

———

As if sensing that it is about to be destroyed, the magic within the crown spirals out of control. It scorches the tips of my fingers and climbs up my arms. My entire body pulses with electricity and dark magic. 

I squeeze my eyes shut as Altea begins the ritual. Magic surrounds me and chanting registers past the ringing in my ears. The entire world is bathed in light and darkness. 

I hold firm on the stone even as the magic tries to consume me. 

This crown must be destroyed. The last of the Witch Queen is within it. I want to banish her from history. Erasing her magic from this tiny gem is a must. 

How many times had she hurt Helena with her magic? How many times had she used this crown against her? How many times had my love suffered because of this one gem?

I clench my fingers around it even as the stone turns to fire. It cooks in my skin and pulses in my hand. 

The magic within the crown panics. It begins to seek me out desperately. 

As it once did the Witch Queen, it offers me power. It is so desperate to survive that it is willing to forge an alliance with the very person that killed its wearer. 

I bite my tongue. Power means nothing to me. There is nothing I want in life more than the one thing I cannot have. 

Altea continues to chant. Her magic swirls in pinks and whites. It spirals towards the jewel in my hand. A crack forms along its surface. 

The crown panics again. It extends its offer to immortal life. I will live and remain young forever if I save it. I care not for life. What good is it to live in a world without Helena?

Another crack appears in the jewel. This time, an inhuman shriek resounds from it. The magic is so close to being erased. Altea begins to sweat and her own power strains against it. Just a few more moments and the last of the Witch Queen’s magic will be gone. 

I clench my fists around the stone and crush it. My own grip speeds the process of it cracking. I can feel it shuddering in my grasp. 

In one last attempt to save itself, the crown offers me one last thing. By now, it is desperate and willing to give me anything.  

An image of Helena fills my senses. I see her in her splendor. Her long blonde hair falls across her shoulders, her blue eyes spark with love and affection, and her hand reaches out for me. I feel her close to me, see her appear as a vision, and my heart gives a painful beat. 

The crown, it seems, is offering her. If I save it from this ritual, refuse to destroy it, it will give me Helena back. 

Death is irreversible, I know that, yet I can’t squash the spark of hope that lights up in me. My mind tells me to be weary of the crown and the dark magic that pulses within it, but my heart is already picking up in rhythm. My breath comes out shallow. 

If I am to make a choice and get my beloved back, I must make it now. Altea’s spell is almost complete and the cracks in the jewel are numerous. 

Without thinking, I react. My mind is so full of Helena that I don’t realize what I am doing until it is too late. 

I move the crown out of Altea’s magic’s reach and move out of the ritual circle. The spell fades away into nothingness and the crown is repaired before my eyes. The Witch Queen’s dark magic will not be destroyed today-

At least not until it holds up its end of the deal. 

Altea gives out a weak cry and holds her chest. She is exhausted and shocked. 

My hand shakes with the crown. I cannot let my only chance of seeing Helena again be destroyed. 

“I-I cannot let you destroy it,” I gasp out. My heart is pounding in my chest. 

Altea gapes at me, startled, and edges closer. She calls my name and I hear her worry. 

“You have to let me destroy it! Whatever it promised you, it is lying! Do not listen to it!” She extends her hand and waits for me to drop the crown into her palm. 

I angle my body away and shield the gem from view. 

The crown is a liar, it manipulates people and takes control of them, but I do not care. If it will let me have Helena again, then I will accept whatever fate befalls me because of it. 

I see my reflection glinting in the jewel. The girl that stares back at me is heartbroken. She is missing her soulmate, her other half, and the crown pities her. It will give her what she seeks. 

I close my eyes and accept the deal. The stone turns cold and magic surrounds me. 

The crown for Helena. Like the Witch Queen once did, I accept the deal. The jewel is evil and has wrought so much pain to the world, but if it gives me back Helena I do not care what befalls it. 

Altea tries to run for me, tries to save me from myself, but I do not give her the chance. 

The crown falls at my feet and light pours from it. A portal appears and shows me a world full of artificial light and metal carriages. 

Without thinking, I plunge into it. 

Ishara once asked me not to do anything foolish, yet I have defied her. If it will let me see Helena again, I will break every law humanity has. 

———

The land I emerge into is called Chicago. I have never heard of it, yet it feels familiar somehow. People swarm past me and hardly give me a second glance. A stranger in armor is a curious sight, yet this city moves too quickly to give me a second thought. 

I look around me and bite my cheek. The crown disappeared the moment the portal closed, a relic as powerful as that knows how to hide, so I am all alone in this strange land. 

I wander past the streets trying to decipher where I am. Foreign accents fill my ears and bizarre sights blind me. 

I know nothing about this world except for the fact that the crown promised me Helena. The thought of seeing her again is what keeps me going. 

I wander into the street and squeeze my fingers in a tight fist. The crown swore Helena would be here, yet I cannot find her. Perhaps I was lied to. Perhaps Altea was right and I have fallen for a cruel trick. The crown was so desperate to not be destroyed that I would not be surprised if it has played me for a fool. 

I close my eyes and blink away the tears. 

In the end, I have been deceived. Helena is not here and I am all alone in a foreign world. If only death would take me now and end my suffering. 

A loud noise sounds from behind me. I turn to see a metal carriage barreling towards me. A loud noise emits from it, a honking, and I close my eyes. 

I have asked for death and it seems this world is ready to deliver it. Finally. I ready myself for the impact, the crash that will no doubt take me, but it never comes. 

Instead, screeching sounds as the metal carriage halts. The smell is of burning rubber as it slams on its brakes. A driver pokes his head out and yells at me to move. I plant myself like a tree. 

The side door to the carriage opens. It is a large car that extends past the others. Whoever rides in it is important. 

A figure emerges from the carriage and my heart stops. 

She wears a long blue and white dress, floral patterns emblazoned across the fabric, and a pink overcoat hangs from her shoulders. Blonde hair is neatly tied back, skin is flushed softly, and her lips are up in a kind smile. I would recognize her anywhere. 

Helena. 

My knees suddenly feel weak and I gaze at her. My heart gives a million beats per minute and my head is spinning just as fast. 

The crown had promised me that she would be here, and it seems like it was telling the truth. 

The woman, Helena, approaches me hesitantly. Concern shines in her eyes and she blinks up at me. 

“Miss, are you alright?” She angles her head curiously. 

Her voice is just like Helena’s. I close my eyes and memorize the smooth sound of it. It is like music to my ears. 

“My limo almost hit you, are you hurt? Should I take you to a hospital?” The woman inquires again. True worry burns in her gaze. 

I realize she is awaiting for my response. I fumble with what to say. 

“Helena?” I ask it softly, tense before her answer, and wait with baited breath. 

Please let her be Helena. Please. 

The woman blinks quizzically. She begins to smile, but it is not in recognition. Instead, she flushes with praise and pleasant surprise fills her gaze. 

“Helen, actually. Do you recognize my work? Are you a fan?” She leans forward excitedly. 

A fan? Work? 

Cold, numbness washes over me. Helen, not Helena. This is not my beloved. 

This woman does not recognize me. She is not the same Helena that loved me. The crown has granted me my wish of seeing her again, but it has twisted it into something terrible. 

A lump forms in my throat. Helen continues to talk. She sounds overjoyed. 

“Have you seen my movies? My tv shows? I haven’t met a fan yet. The tabloids say I’m a rising star, but you’re the first person that’s recognized me. Where have you seen me before?” 

She extends her hands towards me. Her fingers intertwine with mine. I feel a spark as we touch. Even worlds apart, we are a perfect fit. 

I do not know what to say to her question, cannot think of a suitable answer, but it does not matter. Helen’s eyes sweep over my armor. I am still wearing the same outfit I wore when she lived. The armor she liked so much on me and fastened herself. 

Recognition shines in her face and I grow excited before deflating again. She does not recognize me, she merely recognizes my outfit. 

“Wait! I know where you’ve seen me. I was in that fantasy show a few months ago. That’s a really nice cosplay suit,” Helen grins, “I really liked that show. Who was your favorite character?”

Character? Show? The words mean nothing to me. Still, I answer her question. Regardless of the world we are in, she has always been the love of my life. 

“You are,” I whisper. I shiver as I say it, feel the force of the meaning behind my words, and squeeze her hands. 

Helen must feel something too because a beautiful blush spreads across her cheeks. She warms at the praise and her lips are quirked up in a soft smile. For a second, I forget how to breathe. 

“Aw, you’re sweet,” she replies. 

She offers me another dazzling smile before glancing back at her driver. The man is impatiently waiting for her and his lips purse. He asks me if I am okay. 

Helen turns her concerned gaze on me. One of her fingers curls under my chin and tilts my face up. I am caught in her dark blue-eyed gaze. My mouth dries suddenly and my heart gives another painful lurch. She is just like my Helena…

“Do you want to go to a hospital? What is your name?” 

I give her my name. She repeats it under her breath, savors it on her tongue, and blinks. For a moment there is a spark in her eyes, a flare of recognition, but it fades. She still does not know me. 

“Where should we drop you off? Do you have an apartment?” She tilts her head. 

I have no idea what that is and give her a quizzical stare. She raises an eyebrow. 

“What do you remember?”

I pause. 

I remember Altea casting the ritual, I remember making a deal with the crown in exchange for Helena, and I remember the portal. Of course, I doubt this is the answer she wants. I bite my lip. 

“Nothing. I-I don’t know,” I blink. 

Lying to her is painful, I never liked to hide the truth from her, but I cannot tell her who I am. She would never believe me, and I have no right to claim her as my lover. She cannot consent to someone she does not know. 

Helen purses her lips. “The shock of the accident must have taken a toll on you. You didn’t hit your head did you?”

She doesn’t wait for my response. Gently, she tugs me lightly towards the carriage, or limo as she called it. 

“I’m staying in Chicago for the next few weeks to wrap up a movie. My hotel is nearby. I don’t make a habit of inviting strangers to my place, but I think I owe you. My car nearly killed you today. Come with me and we’ll get things sorted out, yeah? Maybe we can help you remember something.”

She tugs on my hand and leads me to the limo. The driver says nothing as I get in but gives Helen a quizzical stare. She ignores it. 

My hand is still in hers and she absentmindedly traces a pattern on my knuckle. It is such a familiar action that my breath is taken away. How is it possible that she is just like my Helena but not her?

Helen folds her legs under her and gazes at me. She gnaws at her bottom lip with her teeth. Again, there is a spark of something in her gaze. 

“You really look familiar to me. Do I know you?” She peers closer at me. 

I want her to know me, remember me, and be with me. I want her to be my Helena. I want us to be what we used to be, but I know I can’t have that yet. So, instead, I obscure the truth. 

“You also look familiar,” I murmur. 

Helen nods, still puzzled, and offers me another kind smile. “Well, perhaps we’ve met before?” 

I look out the window as the limo begins to move away. The Chicago skyline is so different from my home. Still, I am comforted by Helena at my side. 

The crown had promised me Helena and had twisted my wish. It had given me Helen instead and erased her memory. I am hurt as much as I am joyful. I have her back yet she is out of reach all the same.  

I square my jaw stubbornly and give her fingers a light squeeze. 

Helena does not remember me, Helen is so different from the lover I lost, but it is still her. I feel her as my soulmate. The way my heart beats, the way sparks fly from our every touch, I know she is my destiny. 

The crown might have pulled a terrible trick on me, but I will not give up. If this is my Helena, then I will do everything in my power to have her remember me. Hell or high water, I will fight for my beloved. 

“Perhaps we have met before,” I nod, “But we can meet again now.”

I extend my hand and offer her my name. “It is nice to meet you.”

Helen takes my hand without hesitation and raises my palm to her lips. She brushes a polite kiss across my knuckles and smiles. 

“It is nice to meet you too.”

She doesn’t let go of my hand as she eases back into the seat. I am grateful. 

The jewel in the crown tried to hurt me by giving me Helena in a different form, but I will not give up. If Helen is my Helena, I know our love will endure. Our connection transcends timelines and worlds. A love like ours cannot be stifled by magic or death.  

I ease against the seats and smile to myself. For the first time in a long time, I feel complete. 

My soulmate is at my side once more, and this time I will not lose her. Helena is my destiny and I will fight for her. 

[caffeineivore]

Ficcing Friday

Prompter: @ellorgast

Prompt: Nephrite, food pr0n

Characters: Nephrite, Makoto a bit of Kunzite. Hints of Mako-Neph, and Mina-Kunz, maybe. Set around the same time as this.

**

Even on this longest and darkest of winter nights, the bright lights of Manhattan illuminate the street on which the vacant church stands. It had snowed earlier during the day in pretty puffs of white, though now, the curbs run slick and wet with gray slush. Off in the distance, a clock strikes midnight, and almost on cue, the roof hatch opens. 

The stone knight comes completely to life at the last strike of the clock, and almost before his eyes completely blink open, they turn towards where his visitor is shutting the roof hatch behind her. Linden almost never dresses up-- it would not do to attract undue attention while walking into an abandoned church only frequented now by a few vagrants escaping the winter cold. Today is not much of an exception-- her jeans have definitely seen better days, and her boots are already marked with road salt from the snow plows. However, tonight, there are festive sprigs of greenery pinned to her coat lapel and hat. Bright holly berries glow like rubies against dark green wool. 

“My Lady--”

“Linden. Just Linden, tonight.” For all their history, the animosity and accord in equal measure, he insists on using only the courtliest of manners with her, and it’s vexing in a way that she doesn’t care to analyze. Surely, after crossing eight centuries and a wide ocean, they were-- in the common phrase of this day and age and place-- “better than that”. He smiles at that, almost rakishly, and she wonders, not for the first time, if he’d had a smitten sweetheart from the village before their paths had crossed with such utter finality all those years ago. If he had, he’s certainly never made mention of her, but she knows well enough that young, good-looking men in the prime of life seldom lived in solitude. 

“It’s the first big snowfall of the year,” he remarks, apropos of nothing, as she sits down next to him as is their custom, unzips her bag. This time, she brings out not only a thermos, but a plastic ziploc bag, filled with golden-brown gingerbead cookies. 

“Wassail and gingerbread, for Yuletide,” Linden says quietly, pouring out a cup of the hot, spiced drink. It smells like cinnamon and star anise, mead and mulled apple cider. A wry grin crosses her lips as she hands him the cup. “Drink and be well, Sir Nathalán of Stormbrook Keep.”

“You know, you are the one who does not wish to stand on ceremony, milady... I have not been Sir Nathalán in a very long time.” He sips the hot drink, and bestows another grin upon her. “This tastes a great deal better than the wassail from when I was Sir Nathalán. These spices would have been nigh impossible to find, especially in the winter.”

“There’s also the matter of refrigerators, genetically engineered food plants, and FDA standards,” Linden says wryly. At this distance, she can feel the warmth of his breath against tendrils of her hair. It smells like snow and cinnamon sugar, probably would taste the same. She doesn’t choose to test that theory, though, instead busying herself with the bag of cookies. “Here. I made these myself.”

He takes one, bites down, then takes another. “Spectacular,” he pronounces around a mouthful of sugared, spiced dough. “I did not know that you worked in a kitchen.”

“Linden Thorne is a successful food blogger and cookbook author, I’ll have you know.” She pulls an iphone with a floral-patterned case out of a pocket and pushes a few buttons, then allows herself a grin as he watches a youtube video of her making homemade peppermint bark in undisguised fascination. 

“Linden Thorne.” He says the name slowly, as though savoring the way the syllables taste on his tongue. “What would I be called, do you think, in this time and place?”

Linden opens her mouth to speak, to speculate, but any words she might have said die unspoken on her tongue. There is another, powerful presence on the rooftop, and she whirls around, one arm half-shielding Nathalán on fierce primordial instinct. No one comes up on this roof, and the hatch is securely latched still. 

The newcomer is tall, with starshine hair fine and long as a unicorn’s. The black leather trench coat and fine suede boots are not weather-appropriate for a sloping, winter-scarred rooftop, but he seems completely at ease, not at all cold. There is an aura of underlying strength and power beneath his quiet gray gaze, of calm conviction. It takes a moment for Linden to recognize him for what he is.

“Kafziel, Watchman of the Seventh Palace,” the angel intones. His voice is deep and measured, reasonably benevolent, and Linden relaxes fractionally. It was a church, after all. In a way, Kafziel had more of a right to be here than either of them. He did not seem angry, though, that she could tell. (It was awfully difficult to tell a lot of things about angels).

“Linden Thorne,” she returns the introduction with one of her own. “And this is-- was-- Sir Nathalán of Stormbrook Keep.” 

Neither of them explain to the angel about how they came to be there, iele and gargoyle on an icy church roof, but Linden is almost certain that Kafziel already knew. She had not felt any guilt at the time of Nathalán’s infraction and subsequent punishment, but then again, Kafziel’s kin held to a far more rigid code than her sisterhood. 

Strangely, the angel chooses instead to focus on the half-eaten bag of cookies and cooling thermos of wassail still scenting the night air around them. “This is a festive time of year for the mortals, is it not?” 

“Yes. And a triumphant one for you,” Linden returns, without any rancour. A sudden thought occurs to her, and she lets out a faint, single-note laugh before she can stop it. “I’d offer you some homemade gingerbread cookies if I thought you’d be interested. Do you like cookies?”

“I’m fairly sure everyone likes cookies,” Kafziel says reflectively. He takes one, though he seems more interested in turning it over in his hand, feeling the soft, cakey texture of the gingerbread, than eating it right away. A faint smile crosses his lips, an indulgent expression which softens the almost-too-perfect features into something a bit less enthralling and terrifying. “Someone I know is similarly enamoured of all the mortal festivities and traditions of the holidays. She made a point to decorate the busiest hospital emergency room in the city like it’s her home. Though-- I suppose, in a way, it might well be.”

Linden doesn’t have time to wonder about who or what in the world would keep company with someone like Kafziel when Nathalán interjects, in his typically unthinking, foolhardy way, toasting the angel with the rest of the wassail. “Be well, Kafziel, Watchman of the Seventh Palace. Health and a short winter.”

“And the same to you.” The angel, to Linden’s eternal relief, does not seem particularly offended to be conversing with two who celebrated Yuletide rather than Christmas. And perhaps he’d been there, unseen, for a few minutes before she’d felt his presence, because he cocks his head to the side in a manner so stunningly human-like that she blinks. “You may call me Kafziel. And... Sir Nathalán, I think, in this time and place, you’d likely be called Nathan. Nathan Storm.” That brief, faint smile crosses his lips again. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”

[adriata-archive]

hi pals! to thank you all for following me and to commemorate my friendship with the loml aka kate we decided to collaborate and do tumblr awards!

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[officialfeysandweek]

AO3 Collection ・ Prompts ・Guidlines ・ Archive

-

Day 1: Night Triumphant and Stars Eternal -Masterlist / Wordle

Day 2: Hobbies - Masterlist / Wordle

Day 3: Family - Masterlist / Wordle

Day 4: Court of Nightmares - Masterlist / Wordle

Day 5: Starfall - Masterlist / Wordle

Day 6: Mates - Masterlist / Wordle

Day 7: Free Day - Masterlist / Wordle

-

Feysand Week Quiz

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🎨: @dreadart

[archeronhighlady]

❛ Night Triumphant- and the Stars Eternal. ❜ - highlordofthenightcourt

Sarah J. Mass Book Prompts || Accepting

Feyre stepped closer to her mate, the man that she had once hated, had once thought that he would think nothing of destroying her. She had been blind then, purposefully kept blind by him, because he wanted her to choose her own life, but now she could not imagine her life any different than it was. “May we be as eternal as the stars.”

@highlordofthenightcourt

[sh1p1nab0ttle]

Hey @espriexo I'm your secret santa! I want to apologize beforehand as I am still practicing my writing as it is my weakest subject which is why I included a drawing along with the story to make up for it. Anyways, I went with your third wish which was the writing prompt of Russia and America collaborating for space exploration to mars set in the future late 21st century.

Summary: Finally turning their attentions back onto space exploration, Russia and America are able to meet to discuss their trip to Mars. However, unexpected feelings overwhelm America and causes the nation to have other plans. 

Pairing: RusAme 

Ratings: K 

Words: 2493

@rusame-secret-santa-2017

Footsteps echoed through the halls as America got nearer to the doorway. The narrow space he was traveling through felt suffocating, or maybe that was just his anxiousness. The blond had no clue as to why he felt so nervous. It was just a meeting with another nation, no big deal. He could hear his heart thumping louder than his footstep and soon trying to reassure himself wasn't an option anymore. As he reached the opening, his eyes met those of shining purple staring back at him.

“Always late aren't you? I know we are not the best of ‘friends’ but could you still try to show up on time?”

America huffed at the comment he was greeted by. “Well I can’t help that flights in America are busier than flights in Russia!” he boasted proudly to mask how nervous he really was.

The older nation just rolled his eyes at the response he received. Had this been before 2050 then he would've most certainly started a physical fight with the younger nation. Though, ever since better leaders, well better in their people’s eyes, had taken both offices, their relations had been steadily rising. And now that there had been successful completed missions in sending people to Mars, it was their turn, his and America’s; the original Space Exploration Duo as they called it. Russia found this title to be quite ridiculous, but it seemed whenever America had heard it, he had a triumphant look. The Russian would never understand the American.

“So are you ready to do some space exploring once more? I haven't been able to just think about space in years! It’s always been about politics blah blah blah! I think the last time I really truly focused on space was back in the Cold War with you. Man I would never have admit it then but you getting to space first both scared me but also made me gain a lot more motivation and admiration for you. Of course, I thought you were going to use your access to space to destroy me and my people which was why I was so dedicated to getting to the moon! In some aspects though, had we not been so competitive, space would still be left unexplored and we wouldn’t be here planning for an exploration to Mars-,” America rambled on.

Russia sat quietly and listened to the other nation’s voice. Contrary to what most believe, he doesn't mind America’s outbursts of words. Russia loves the sounds of voices in meetings despite the chaos they usually bring. He would always prefer to be with others in a room full of noise than alone in a place of silence. The Russian ordered his papers while he waited for America to finish. The older nation always found it amazing how America could kill an eternal silence by filling it with sound just by himself. Suddenly the room went silent again and Russia looked up from sorting his papers.

America sat still in his seat across the table and fidgeted. He looked as though he were thinking about something. Russia peered at him curiously and wondered what made America stop his one-sided conversation. Finally the American looked up and gave a bashful smile which seemed unusual and out of place to the Russian. Russia could never have imagined seeing America shy or embarrassed in any circumstance. He seemed too outgoing and laid-back. Still, there America was, looking as though he was done talking.

“Ahem. Hey, Russia,” America began. He played with the corner of one of his papers subconsciously. “Are you nervous?”

Russia was slightly caught off guard by the question and tilted his head. “Why would I be nervous?” he inquired as a response.

America was silent for a moment regretting having brought the subject up. “Well, uh, I mean the last time we went to space was decades ago, because of everything that's happened and it's just unnerving to think about you know?” He paused and then added, “What if there are, like aliens on Mars!?”

The Russian just stared at America. “You know Tony is an alien...right?” he questioned.

The younger nation shook his head and looked dumbfounded. “No way! Tony’s my friend and plus he’s not from Mars,” America argued.

Sighing, Russia responded with a hand on his forehead, “America there are no aliens on Mars so you have nothing to be frightened of.”

“What about robots? Or a parasite that could kill us? Or-or-” America continued.

Standing up with papers in one hand and walking over to the blond, Russia put his other hand on America’s shoulder. “Alfred, relax. We need to focus on this mission. Our people have already gone to Mars and checked for all those...things. Plus, we are nations remember? We’ll be fine,” the Russian reassured the overexcited nation.

America felt his heartbeat quicken and face reddening at Russia’s touch as he looked back down as his papers. “Y-yeah,” the American murmured. He had needed Russia of all people to calm his squabble down. Wait- had Russia called him ‘Alfred’? America quickly glanced up quizzically at Russia before looking back down at his papers. It must've been a slip of the tongue, as nations never called each other by their human names unless they were close and were outside of business, neither of which the situation was.

Russia sat down in the empty seat next to America instead of returning to his seat. He hadn't realized he had used America’s human name when speaking to him. Looking back to America he asked, “What will you bring on this trip?”

America reluctantly raised his head and hoped that his blush had ceased or that the Russian wouldn’t notice. He was wrong with both. “Uh, just the necessities and what my bosses and space program suggested I bring.”

Now Russia was confused as to why America looked slightly red. Nervousness and worrying about dangers weren't usually like America, and on top of that America was now blushing? The Russian shrugged it off and responded, “I did too. You have finished packing everything, да?”

America nodded, “Yeah I did, since we'll be leaving soon and all.”

Russia checked the time upon hearing America’s response. “We still have a some time left before we have to leave,” he stated. It had turned from evening to night but there was still much for the two to discuss business wise. Before Russia could say anything, though, America interjected.

“Hey Russia, wanna go stargazing?” the American inquired.

This confused the other nation as he looked down at their papers and then looked back up at the American for an explanation. He didn’t know what compelled America to ask him, of all people, to go look at the stars together, but there was no denying that the Russian nation enjoyed watching the stars at night just as much as he enjoyed being around others. Still, would his boss really be okay with him disobeying orders? Before he could give a response, however, America grabbed his hand and began dragging him out if the meeting room and building. The cool air hit his face upon their exit out of the space centre. He looked up at the darkened sky and was about to say something, but the American had let go of his hand and disappeared to somewhere else. Russia looked around him and saw the other nation speaking with someone in a vehicle. The blond looked away from who he was conversing with and beckoned Russia over. The Russian sighed and began to jog over.

“He said he’d take us to the top of the mountain nearby,” America explained to the older nation. “It has a great view of the stars.”

Russia glanced back at the space centre and sighed. There was no changing America’s mind now. Instead of saying anything, Russia just silently nodded. The two nations were driven over to their destination and it had been a fairly quiet trip. As they got out and started to walk the rest of the way towards the top of the low mountain, America finally broke the silence again.

“Hey Russia?” the younger nation began.

Russia turned his attention from walking to listening to the American. He waited for the other to continue, wondering why he had lost his optimistic and outgoing tone. The Russian didn’t understand why America was behaving weirdly ever since almost the start of the meeting when Russia first saw him again.

“Do you...actually wanna be around me?” America continued quietly and nervously. He wished he could make the nagging feeling in him go away but he couldn’t and so he felt obligated to ask.

The Russian stopped walking and turned to look at America. “Ufufuuf~ Why do you ask the most silly questions America?” he giggled. Russia looked up towards the sky speckled with stars. “I want to be around you. I think you are what keeps me going. You are loud and noisy but that is what I need in my life sometimes,” he explained softly. The lighter blond looked back down and gently patted the other’s head. “Let us go now to the top of the mountain.”

America pouted as he felt Russia’s hand pat his head and reverted back to his defensive competitive attitude towards the Russian. “Ack-Don’t pet me like I’m a little kid! I bet I could beat you up the mountain with no problem!” he taunted.

“Oh?” Russia asked with amusement. “The last time we had a race with Space involved, I won, no?” He smiled as he saw the American get flustered again.

“That was a tie! This is just a foot race anyways,” America argued. “And I’ll totally win this ti-” Before he could finish what he was going to say however, Russia had already began the race and had gotten a head start against the other nation. For Russia’s size, he sure was fast. “Hey, that’s not fair!” America cried.

Russia just continued to run up the mountain but when he looked back, he saw that the younger nation was catching up. Their destination was in view and with a final burst of speed, Russia exited the path up with trees and entered an open space perfect for stargazing. America stopped behind him shortly after and was out of breath, they both were. “Looks like I win, little American,” Russia teased.

America frowned at the defeat. “That’s because you started before I even finished talking,” he argued.

Russia smiled and faintly replied with, “All is fair in love and war.”

Confused, the younger nation was about to ask what he had meant but Russia had already turned to find a spot for watching stars. He watched the Russian sit down and joined him silently. Love and war, they weren’t at war directly or indirectly and hadn’t been since before 2050. But love, there was no way there was any love between them. It was always tension, right?

“America, look,” Russia commented breaking America from his thoughts. The other nation followed to where the Russian was pointing and saw the red speck in the sky. “It is where we will be going soon,” Russia added.

The blond nodded and thought about what it would be like on mars. It was slightly unnerving to the nation but he remembered that he wouldn’t be going alone. Russia would be with him and they’d be the first two nations on Mars, together. He looked at the other stars and tried to find any constellation he could. His favourite would have to be Aquila the Eagle Constellation. “Hey Ivan-I mean Russia, what’s your favourite constellation?” the American asked.

The taller nation blinked in surprise when he heard America use his human name, but it also made him smile. “Canis Major and Canis Minor,” he answered.

“Dogs? I didn’t know you liked dogs,” America responded curiously and wondered if the Russian had a reasoning for liking the two dog constellations.

Russia was quiet for a moment until he said, “Laika.”

America understood and didn’t need to ask anymore. He recognized the name of the Space Dog and felt slightly saddened upon remembering that day. He knew Russia also felt remorse. The American decided to go back to watching the stars. The night was growing colder and he felt the need to instinctively move closer towards the Russian.

They sat quietly throughout the night making small remarks and pointing at stars, planets, or constellations every so often. Russia looked to his side when he felt a weight on his shoulder and saw that the American had fallen asleep. Feeling tired himself, the Russian wrapped his scarf around the other nation and laid his head on the other’s before drifting into a sound sleep under the star-filled night sky.

xxx

America felt a warm light as he opened his eyes. He was met with the sight of a rising sun at dawn. He felt something around his neck and saw it was Russia’s scarf. The larger nation was still asleep but woke up when he felt America stir and move away from him. The blond quickly unwrapped the scarf and stood up avoiding any eye contact with the Russian. Instead, he opted to look at the sun on the horizon. “We should go before our bosses send out a patrol to search for us,” he pointed out.

Russia was still a little dazed but nodded and stood up as well and adjusted his scarf. He followed America’s gaze towards the ball of light. A new day was beginning, and it was the day they would begin their flight to Mars. America grabbed his hand and began leading him back down the path towards where they had been dropped off the night before.

America felt as if his heart would leap out of him and wished it would calm down. It seemed he lost any control of it, ever since he woke up and found himself leaning against the taller nation. He pulled out his phone and saw all the missed calls he received from his boss. He ignored all of them and called the driver from before, who met them at the bottom of the path and drove the two nations back to the space center.

Upon entering the building, the two were bombarded with people scolding them and shoving them to different rooms to get them ready for the Mars trip. Having gotten into their space suits and everything in their capsule, Russia and America found themselves preparing for take off with a few other astronauts and cosmonauts. America looked over at Russia and took the other’s hand as he mouthed the words “You ready?” Russia nodded and held onto the American’s hand as the take off began. Something inside told him that something was going to go wrong, but the Russian didn’t care. He wouldn’t be alone this time; he’d have America with him, right?

[minijenn]

Universe Falls, Chapter 44

Ah here we go with the last of the angst storm for now! And honestly, I’m pretty proud of how this one turned out, despite how much of a mess my writing process was for it. Seriously this is probably the longest I’ve been in progress with a single chapter (I started this shit like two weeks ago almost). But alas, its finally done and here for you to cry over so take it off my hands, please!

Previous: http://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/167027756039/universe-falls-chapter-43-part-2

Chapter 44: Do It For Them

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The evening air was as warm and crisp and welcoming as the pleasing, expansive starry skies reflecting off of the almost glistening waterfall and lake below. They had been here before, not too long before things had taken a disastrous turn, when their close bond had really started to solidify itself. In fact, it was as if they were directly mirroring that early night on the cliff, with both of them perched on its edge as they looked up into the endless stars above, both of them held in a calming state of silence. It was a kind of warm peacefulness that Dipper at the very least hadn’t felt in quite some time, not since before Lapis had unveiled the truth about the impending invasion, before she had surrendered herself over to become Malachite, before everything had gone so horribly wrong.

But all that was in the past now. Because through some miracle or turn of fate, Lapis was free, Jasper was defeated, and Malachite was gone. These were all things that Dipper knew to be true and took immense solace in, especially as he sat next to Lapis on the waterfall cliff once more, something that, not too long ago, he had thought he’d never have a chance to do again. And while he couldn’t exactly recall the events that had led up to the blue Gem’s release from her watery prison, he largely didn’t care, because here they were, together again, despite all the obstacles that had once stood in their way.

And though he still didn’t really know how he had done it, Dipper was more than a little proud of the fact that he had been the one to finally bridge that impassible gap between them.

While things had been comfortably quiet between them thus far, he couldn’t help but break that ongoing silence by letting out a small, blissful laugh in spite of himself. Lapis didn’t bother to look over at him at this, but instead her expression remained rather neutral, her eyes shielded by the shadows her bangs cast over them, something that Dipper didn’t really notice as he openly expressed his current contentedness. “So, uh… I know I’m kind of gonna sound like a broken record here, but I’m just… so glad you’re back, Lapis,” he began, glancing down to the waterfall below them with an unabridged smile. “When you were gone, e-everything just felt so wrong, I guess, because I felt like there was nothing I could do to help you… Until now. You know, its so crazy; I still can’t believe that, after everything that’s happened, I somehow managed to actually save you!”

As Dipper let out another genuinely cheerful laugh at this, Lapis joined in, though her chuckle was a bit more subdued and mysterious as she finally spoke up. “Oh, that’s cute,” she said, her tone just the slightest bit patronizing as a slow smirk began to spread across her features. “But Dipper?”

“Uh, yeah?” Dipper’s smile slowly faded as he glanced over at the blue Gem, finally starting to notice that something seemed off about her. Something that he couldn’t quite place, but something that unsettled him nonetheless.

“If you’re so worried about saving me,” she continued, her bizarre, almost sinister smirk widening as the shadows covering her eyes seemed to darken just a bit. “Then who’s going to save YOU?!”

Dipper immediately froze with unquestionable fear the moment he heard “Lapis’” voice shift from her own into the pitchy, grating, haunting one that had been plaguing his dreams for the past several nights now. But his newfound terror was all too quickly confirmed as “she” finally met his alarmed gaze, revealing “her” now piercing, slitted yellow eyes. The very same eyes his own body had taken on after he had been booted right out of it by none other than Bill Cipher.

“N-no,” Dipper choked, his eyes wide as he scrambled to his feet to put some distance between himself and the demon-possessed blue Gem. Bill simply laughed twistedly as he also stood, sending him a broad, triumphant smirk all the while. “No, no, not her! Please-”

“Aw, what’s the matter, Pine Tree?” Bill goaded with a demented grin that looked incredibly out of place on Lapis’ usually solemn face. “Don’t tell me you actually thought you saved Water Wings here. You’ve gotta be kidding me! Your chances of helping her out are about as slim as you figuring out that password were. You know, if that dumb old laptop was still in one piece!”

By now, Dipper was in the midst of a full-on panic attack, his heart racing and his breathing short as he tried to find some way to escape from the demon who had nearly killed him just to meet his own sadistic ends. “Y-you… you’re not… Why… why are you still-” he paused, taking in a deep breath in a feeble attempt to steady himself, even as he continued warily backing away. “W-why won’t you just leave me alone already?! You already got what you wanted, so just… just get out of her and go away!”

“No can do, kid!” Bill quipped as brightly as ever. “See, I just realized that neither one of us really lived up to our little deal! So I decided to go ahead and just dig Water Wings up from the bottom of the lake and bring her all the way up here, just for you! Sure was thoughtful of me, wasn’t it?”

“W-what?! No!” Dipper readily protested, knowing that the last thing he ever wanted was for Lapis, of all people, to fall victim to the dream demon’s sadism as he had. “This isn’t what I-”

“Now, now, Pine Tree, there will be plenty of time to thank me later,” Bill went on with a callous shrug. “For now, it looks like I’m still one puppet short. Think you can help me out with that?”

Dipper couldn’t even find the words to express his outright terror at the thought of his body being brutally ripped away from him to be thoughtlessly tortured while he was trapped in the cold, unfeeling void of the mindscape all over again. So instead, he simply shook his head, his entire body trembling as the dream demon stepped closer to him, still wearing Lapis’ form and still trying to rob him of everything he thought he had. Bill said something else to him, likely another cruel taunt or jeer, but Dipper didn’t hear him against the sound of his own heart hammering in his chest, against his own shallow, desperate breathing, against the anguished tears starting to well up in his eyes, against the fear, so deep and so crippling, that it was practically overwhelming every fiber of his being. Fear of such an unbearable disaster repeating itself once more, fear of being trapped in invisibility and silence, on the outside forever looking in, fear of having control over nothing, not even his own body as it was used as nothing more than a hallow puppet, an empty pawn, fear that it would never end, that it would just keep going, an endless cycle of panic and pain and despair and-

This distraught train of thought was abruptly broken as Dipper took another step back, only to step on open air instead of solid ground. He only had enough time to let out a small gasp before he backwards, plummeting off the side of the cliff and down into the seemingly endless expanse below. And for a moment, he was surprisingly fine with this harrowing fall, since, at the very least, it had gotten him out of Bill’s range. Yet only mere seconds after he backpedaled off the cliff, something latched itself onto his wrist, violently lurching him right back up towards it. It was only as this same force roughly pulled against his other arm that Dipper noticed what was, of all things, string, which had somehow seamlessly attached itself to the backs of both his hands. His alarm increased tenfold, however, as he glanced up and saw that the other ends of the strings were connected to a large marionette hand controller, one that was firmly held by Bill himself, back in his usual triangular form, no longer masquerading as the blue Gem but instead loomed huge and intimidating as he pulled his “puppet” back up towards him.

“Not so fast, Pine Tree!” Bill exclaimed haughtily, his huge, singular eye seeming to stare straight through Dipper’s soul. “You never got to finish to finish your performance! It’d be such a shame if you didn’t get to have an ENCORE!”

Bill burst into another round of insane laughter as he aggressively jerked the marionette control upward, roughly pulling Dipper up along with it. His first instinct was one overridden with desperation and terror, prompting him to fiercely struggle against the bonds tightly holding him. However, he was quick to come to the horrific realization that he suddenly had no control of his body whatsoever. In fact, he wasn’t even capable of crying out for help, not that he thought he’d get any at a moment like this. And amidst it all was the unexcepted but alarming return of that feeling he had hoped to never experience again. That intrusive, agonizing, merciless, unbearable, unending tug that had so savagely ripped him out of his own body once before, and was currently in the process of doing it once again. And the worst part was that there was nothing, absolutely nothing he could do to stop it. There was nothing he could do to free himself from this helpless state, from the demon’s vicious sway, from the horrendous deal that he had made, one that would forever follow him, keeping him trapped in fear, guilt, sorrow, and regret for what would no doubt be a formless, empty, eternally lonely existence.

Or that’s what Dipper thought until his eyes shot open, the dream demon all but gone and replaced with the familiar sight of the darkened attic ceiling above him. But, as panic stricken as he still was, he didn’t hesitate to bolt upright in bed, only to abruptly realize that he was back in control of his body as a sharp, familiar pain rippled across his ribcage as a result of the sudden movement. He was unable to bite back a rather loud, pained cry as he wrapped his arms around his torso, cringing against the resurgent ache that he had gotten all too acquainted with during the past several days alone.

“Dipper?” Mabel groggily spoke up, wiping the sleep out of her eyes as she sat up as well. Her tiredness was quickly replaced with worry however, as she glanced over to see her brother essentially hugging himself, his expression twisted in tight, breathless, obvious pain. “Dipper!” she exclaimed in apt alarm, hurriedly jumping out of bed and rushing over to him. “A-are you ok?! Should I wake Stan up?! Or call Steven? O-or-”

“N-no,” Dipper interrupted, his voice quiet and forced amidst the air his constricted lungs were struggling to find. “I… I’m fine…”

“You sure don’t look like you’re fine…” Mabel noted, still immensely concerned for both his poor physical and mental state.

“W-well, I am,” Dipper assured, taking in a steadying breath as he forced himself to calm down. Still, it took him just a bit longer to move past the tears he was struggling to suppress, tears that had nothing to do with the physical pain he was finally starting to overcome. “I was just… a little sore, is all. It’s really no big deal, Mabel.”

“I really wish you’d stop saying that…” Mabel sighed pensively. “You almost died the other day, Dipper… That’s a pretty big deal to me…”

“S-so what?” Dipper shrugged, trying his best to convince himself that what had happened during that ill-fated puppet show now only lay dead and buried in the past. Something that his persistently dark nightmares refused to let him actually do. “We almost die every other day. Its not like mortal danger is anything new around here.”

“Yeah, but this was different…” Mabel rubbed her arm as she glanced away guiltily, remembering something she had largely tried to forget ever since she had first come across it. “Dipper, I-I… there was… I… I found…” She trailed off upon noticing his curious, but unquestionably exhausted and beleaguered expression, realizing that she couldn’t tell him about this now. In fact, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever have the heart to tell him about it at all. “N-never mind…” she finally relented as she began to head back over to her bed. “Just… try to get some sleep, k, bro-bro? I bet you probably still need to catch up a little on that after… uh, well… y-you know…”

“Y-yeah… sleep…” Dipper halfheartedly sighed as he lay back down again, knowing he would be getting very little of that for the rest of the night. Not that that was anything new, seeing as how sleep had been evading him every nightmare-interrupted night since that disastrous play. Still, for as crushingly tired as he was, he refused to be thrust back into terrors masquerading themselves as dreams, where Bill Cipher eagerly awaited to continue mercilessly toying with him and torturing him for no real reason at all. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t allow any and all sense of agency and control to be so easily stolen away from him again, even in the purely hypothetical world of his nightmares. Which was why he decided to utilize what little control he felt like he did have anymore by avoiding them, and by extension sleep, altogether. An ill-advised idea in light of both his injuries and his persisting exhaustion, but for the sake of his quickly crumbling emotional stability, it was the only option he really had left.

Given how mutually traumatizing their harrowing recent showdown with Bill had been for all four of the kids, they had wisely chosen to take their time in recovering from it. For the past several days, they had quietly yet unanimously signed themselves off of going on any Gem mission or mystery hunt. Instead, they had opted to spend their time in much more mundane but relaxing ways, such as a picnic perched atop one of the temple statue’s massive hands. With the weather warm and pleasant and the breezes calming and gentle, the kids found a welcoming atmosphere as they settled down in this elevated spot, one that provided them with an excellent view of the entire town. In fact, with the ground so far below them and a lush blue sky above, it was almost enough to make Steven, Connie, and Mabel, at least, feel like everything was finally back to normal. A hopeful sentiment that Dipper sullenly and silently refused to share.

With their late morning snack of biscuits and jam neatly laid out, Steven began tuning his ukulele, a light smile on his face as he decided to fill the picnic in with some lighthearted tunes. Connie had much of the same idea as she pulled her violin out and began adjusting it until both instruments were in harmony with each other, eventually culminating in a charming, cheerful duet between the two.

“The sun is bright, our shirts are clean, we’re sitting up above the scene,” Steven began, strumming happily as he easily crafted impromptu lyrics. “Come on and share this jam with me.”

“Peach or plum or strawberry,” Connie picked up where he had left off, synchronizing perfectly with the young Gem’s melody. “Any kind is fine, you see. Come on and share this jam with me! I’ll do my best to give this jam the sweetness it deserves.”

“And I’ll keep it fresh, I’m jamming on these tasty preserves!”

As this literal jam session continued, Mabel contentedly swayed along to the upbeat tune, though she refrained from joining in, despite wanting to. Her warm grin had already started to falter upon seeing the clearly affectionate smiles Steven and Connie were sending each other as they sang together, but it only fell completely when she glanced over at Dipper. His expression was downcast, cold even while he simply stared out at the town far below, barely even paying attention to anything at all as he gripped his arms loosely, taking care not to touch any of the bandages covering up his smaller cuts and scrapes. She could guess from the deeper than usual bags under his eyes that he likely hadn’t taken her advice about getting some much-needed sleep last night. Mabel was half tempted to call him out on this, voicing her disapproval of his lack of self-care while he was still rather injured, but once again, she held her peace, knowing that the last thing either of them needed right now was to get in yet another petty fight.

“Ingredients in harmony,” Steven and Connie harmonized, drawing their cheery song to a close. “We mix together perfectly. Come on and share this jam with me!”

The melody concluded on a bright, high note from both instruments, followed by a celebratory laugh from the young Gem. “Woo hoo! Jam buds!”

“Nice jam session,” Connie complimented with a chuckle as she started putting her violin away.

“Yeah, uh, y-you guys sounded great!” Mabel cut in with something of a forced smile. “Right, Dipper?”

Unlike Mabel, Dipper made no attempts at trying to be perky or upbeat as he kept his sights set on the view beyond them, his expression clearly glum and doleful as he responded with nothing more than an absent nod, followed by a quiet sigh. Mabel, Steven, and Connie exchanged a concerned glance at this, all four of them very much aware that out of all of them, it was clear that Dipper was still by far the furthest away from fully recovering from that scarring sock opera. Not that any of them really blamed him; after all, he had literally ripped out of his own body and had only managed to get it back after it had been viciously bloodied and brutalized. It was a state of affairs so nightmarish and horrific that none of them really knew how to reconcile it, the least of which being Dipper, to whom all of it had directly happened to. Which was perhaps a large part of the reason why he had been so quiet and disengaged ever since it had happened, even despite his continued attempts at reassuring the others that he was alright, both inside and out. Of course, this was something that Mabel, Steven, and Connie couldn’t possibly believe readily, but even so, none of them had the faintest idea about what to really do to tangibly help him. They figured that for now, the most they could do was give him time, space, and support as he needed it in the hopes that eventually, it would coax him out of his apparent depression.

“Well, uh… I think we’re all forgetting the best part,” Steven transitioned awkwardly as he grabbed one of the biscuits they had laid out and loaded it up with strawberry jam. “To all of us jam buds!”

“To jam buds!” Mabel and Connie cheerfully echoed this toast, jamming up their own biscuits as they prepared to enjoy their snack. However, before they could, a sudden shrill caw pierced through the peaceful air, alerting the kids to the flock of crows divebombing towards them, or more specifically towards Steven, with the intent of stealing his biscuit right out of his hands. The young Gem let out a startled gasp, but before he could do anything to defend himself from the attacking birds, Connie beat him to it. In an instant, she was on her feet, swinging her violin bow out far and wide in a bold, fierce attempt at driving the crows away. They were quick to see that they were no match for the makeshift weapon or its stalwart wielder as they hastily retreated, leaving the kids to enjoy their picnic in peace once more.

“Go back to your masters!” Connie called out after the fleeing birds, keeping her bow dramatically aimed at them. “Tell them we’re not afraid of your kind!”

“Heh, thanks for saving my jam snack,” Steven chuckled warmly. “Unfortunately, its not safe from me.” With an eager grin, the young Gem shoved his biscuit into his mouth, happily munching on the previously periled treat.

“Whoa, Connie, that was so awesome!” Mabel exclaimed, perking up once more. “You were all like ‘swish!’ ‘swash!’’swoosh!’ It was like you turned into some kind of super cool sword fighter for a second there! It was amazing!”

“Really?” Connie glanced down at her bow incredulously. “I was just swinging this thing around. I don’t really know what I’m doing, but I’d love to learn how to use a real sword someday!”

“What, you mean like fencing or something?” Dipper spoke up, suddenly intrigued by the genuinely interesting direction the conversation had taken.

“No, I mean real sword fighting,” Connie shrugged. “I don’t know, I always thought it looked like a really amazing skill to know in moves and on TV. N-not that I’d actually ever be able to learn or anything…”

“Oh!” Steven interrupted with an excited gasp as he finished his biscuit. Stars were in his eyes as he hopped to his feet, grinning at Connie widely as he hurried up onto the nearby warp pad before anyone else could. “Steven has an idea!”

“You want me to do what?!” Pearl asked, completely caught off guard by the rather unorthodox proposal Steven had just made to her.

“You should teach Connie how to sword fight!” the young Gem reiterated earnestly as him, Connie, Dipper, and Mabel all congregated before the confused white Gem. “You know everything there is to know about swords, Pearl, and Connie’s already so good-”

“Steven!” Connie cut in, suppressing an embarrassed blush. After all, the last thing she wanted was for Steven to overexaggerate her meager skills, only for her to end up disappointing Pearl, who was certainly far beyond them.

“But you are!” Steven contested. “You did great when we fought off all those living wax figures at the beginning of the summer!”

“Oh! And there was also that time we beat back those crazy golf ball guys!” Mabel added just as enthusiastically.

“Yeah! And, uh… those mean crows just now!” the young Gem continued, trying to come up with another instance of Connie’s potential swordsmanship.

“Hm… you’re awfully young to begin something like this…” Pearl noted as she looked Connie up and down thoughtfully. “But then again, I suppose I was only a few thousand years old when I began fighting alongside Rose Quartz myself…” Upon seeing that the white Gem was starting to consider the idea, Connie realized she could no longer hold her peace about it. After all, if she really did want to gain such a unique, valuable skill, then she had to earn the right to learn it for herself instead of having others plea it for her. “Oh, yes, Connie?” Pearl asked upon noticing her politely raise her hand.

“Please, I want to learn!” Connie urged devoutly. “I don’t know what’ll happen in the future, but if something dangerous comes along, I don’t wanna be a burden, I wanna help!” She hesitated a beat, a warm flustered blush filling her cheeks as she happened to steal a glance over at Steven. “I-I feel like I’ve been taking a backseat in so many huge things that have happened this summer, but I don’t want to just watch on the sidelines anymore! I want to be there for Steven, f-for all you guys, to fight by your side! The Earth is my home too. Can’t I help protect it?”

Needless to say that upon hearing such a profoundly heroic resolve, Pearl was instantly sold on the idea of taking Connie under her tutelage, largely because it reminded her of the very similar vow she had made countless centuries ago. And so, with proud tears brimming in her eyes, she happily agreed. “Oh… ok…” she whispered gently before sobering up, wiping her eyes as she stood with an enthused grin. “If that’s how you feel, then by all means, we should get started!”

“Wait… now?” Connie asked, somewhat caught of guard as the white Gem began leading the way towards the warp pad.

“Well, of course!” Pearl exclaimed intently, pausing as she turned around. “Since you’ll basically be starting from square one, we’ll have a lot of ground to cover. But I’m confident that a quick learner like yourself, Connie, will pick the most essential skills up in no time! Now come along, we’ve much to do!”

“Oh… uh… y-yes, ma’am!” Connie nodded, steeling herself for the no doubt rigorous training ahead as she went towards the warp herself.

“Whoo-hoo!” Steven cheered excitedly hurrying off after the pair so he could spectate.

“This is gonna be so cool!” Mabel gushed as she did the exact same thing, not noticing that Dipper had hung back until he hesitantly spoke up.

“W-wait!” he exclaimed, suddenly quite nervous as everyone turned back towards him. Yet even despite the flustered redness filling his cheeks, Dipper decided to roll with this burst of impulse, hoping that it would at the very least, somehow take his mind off the last impulsive choice he had made. “Pearl, I… I want to learn sword fighting too!”

A beat of startled silence passed in light of this sudden request, with no one really knowing what to initially make of it. But even so, Dipper didn’t retract it as he instead maintained a resolute expression, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides, even if they were trembling just the slightest bit from nerves. He was prepared to elaborate on his unexpected appeal, but before he could, Mabel abruptly broke the stilted silence.

“Whaaaaaaaaaat? You wanna learn how to sword fight, bro-bro?” she asked, a hint of good-natured quizzical teasing in her tone. “That seems like it might be a bit too strenuous for those noodle arms of yours, no offense.”

“Hey, I can fight!” Dipper protested petulantly, trying his best not to come across as outright embarrassed, especially in front of the white Gem. “Remember how I took Gideon on inside that giant robot of his and won?”

“Yeah! And how we worked together to beat Peridot’s robinoids as Stepper!” Steven chimed in with a supportive smile. “And when you fought that beefy video game guy, or when you and me were up against all those clones of ourselves, or when you hunted down that huge multibear!”

“Huh, come to think of it, you actually have quite a bit of fighting experience already, Dipper,” Connie noted thoughtfully.

“Y-yeah, I do,” Dipper agreed somewhat unsteadily as he crossed his arms. “But, uh… I-I just… I don’t see any reason to not want to get better at it, especially since things have been kind of… intense around here lately. I-its like Connie said: I want to, um, help protect the Earth, o-or something…” He paused briefly, glancing down apprehensively as he knew that wasn’t entirely his motivation for wanting to acquire a skill as involved and deft as sword fighting. But as far as he was concerned, nobody had to know his real reasoning except for him. “So, uh… would it be ok if I trained with you and Connie, Pearl?”

“I don’t know, Dipper…” Pearl frowned, her expression rather uncertain as she put a hand to her chin. “Normally, I wouldn’t mind taking on two pupils at once, and yes, you do certainly seem to have some admirable informal combat experience that could prove to be a useful skill base. But… your injuries from the other day are rather concerning… Maybe you should just wait until you’re all healed up before you start training with us. After all, it is a very rigorous curriculum, and I’m not sure if you should be putting any further strain upon your already damaged body by attempting highly complicated maneuvers and techniques…”

“B-but I’m ok, really!” Dipper countered, wishing that his still very prominent bandages didn’t stand out as such dead give-aways to the opposite of that claim. And really, it was indeed a rather blatant lie, because his shoulder did occasionally start bleeding again, his ribs still ached every time he so much as twisted the wrong way, he was still forcing himself to walk without a limp even though his ankle sparked in painful protest with almost every step he took. But once again, nobody else had to know about any of that but him, especially seeing as how he didn’t want to wait for this. Really, if this could help him like he hoped it could, then it couldn’t afford to wait any longer. “I already feel so much better than I did the other day! In fact, it… it’s almost like I never even got hurt at all!”

Mabel couldn’t help but frown upon hearing this, knowing that Dipper was seriously underplaying his injuries for the sake of saving face. Because she had seen the blood-soiled bandages he had discarded in the bathroom trash can, she had heard his pained groans every time he put more pressure on his ankle than he should have, she had worried about him every single waking moment since he had passed out immediately after her ridiculous puppet show. And while she wanted to object to the idea of him pursuing something as laborious as sword training in his current state, she knew she really couldn’t. After all, this was the first time in days that she had seen that familiar bold, resilient spark in his eyes, a spark she had been sorely missing for so long now. A spark that, for both of their sakes, she desperately didn’t want to see fade away into blank misery once again.

“Anyway, what matters is that I know I can do this, Pearl,” Dipper continued earnestly, being very transparent about how much he wanted to learn. “All I need is a chance. If there’s one thing I’ve realized in all the crazy things that have happened this summer so far, its that I-I haven’t been prepared for everything that’s come our way… B-but I want to be! I want to be able to defend myself a-and Mabel from any other dangerous thing we might come across! A-and I don’t think that’s the sort of thing that can really wait so… please, Pearl. Give me that chance. I won’t let you down, I promise.”

Pearl had practically broken down into warm tears once again at hearing yet another selfless proclamation. Which was why it took her very little further internal deliberation before making an easy decision as she looked between her two new promising young pupils. “Very well then. I’ll teach you both!” she said with bright resolve, finally stepping onto the warp pad as the kids followed suit, all of them mostly ready to go. “Now… let’s be off!”

In order to properly train Connie and Dipper in the ways of the blade, Pearl would need the proper venue to accommodate such training, and fortunately, she knew of the perfect place. The white Gem warped herself and the kids to this greatly elevated destination with a broad, confident smile, a pair of training swords cradled in her arms. The kids were a bit less dignified, with Connie giggling in excitement and falling flat onto the pad as they arrived, having warped only a handful of times compared to Steven and the twins. The young Gem chuckled himself as he helped her up, and while Mabel initially smiled in amusement at this, her expression soon fell as she glanced over at Dipper, whose manner was quite cold and serious, even despite the beautifully bewildering place they were now in.

The massive marble structure seemed to be set adrift in an endless sea of fluffy white clouds, high above the ground with only sunny blue skies above it. The pair of staircases behind the warp pad led to a vast, open-air arena, one that clearly showed is age in how over half of it had completely crumbled apart. What was left was still rather impressive though, from its high staggered seating, to its towering pillars and accompanying statues, to the collection of four diamond symbols stacked together at the pinnacle of the structure, the bottommost of which had broken apart quite some time ago. The kids all soaked this incredibly sight in with apt wonder as they followed Pearl down into the arena’s empty center, which would certainly provide more than enough space to pass her sword fighting skills along to her two new students.

“Whoa… this place is amazing!” Connie exclaimed upon finally seeing the full lay of the arena and the billowing clouds surrounding it.  

“It certainly is, Connie,” Pearl smiled broadly, her back turned to the kids as she glanced down to the pair of training swords resting in her arms. “This is an Ancient Sky Arena, where some of the first battles for Earth took place! It was here that I became familiar with the human concept of being a knight, completely dedicated to a person and a cause. Its easily the most noble, heroic resolve any Gem or human could hope to dedicate themselves to. Dipper, Connie, that is what you both must become: brave, loyal, selfless. Entirely devoted and committed not to yourselves, but to those you’re willing to give up everything to protect and serve! You… must be knights!”

At this, the white Gem turned to her young pupils, finally holding the pair of training swords out to them and silently instructing them to take up these blades. For both Dipper and Connie, the moment they both reached out to take their swords felt surreal, almost monumental. After all, these weren’t just plastic toys or dulled metal; these were real, sharp, potentially deadly weapons, weapons that they were about to learn how to wield with their own hands. As the pair exchanged a rather tentative glance upon claiming these weapons for themselves, they could both acutely feel just how intimidating this prospect really was. In fact, it was so initially intimidating to them both that they gave Pearl’s manifesto much thought, even if Steven and Mabel were rather caught off guard by its somewhat alarming implications. Still, the white Gem didn’t waste a beat as she decided to formally start her training regimen.

“We begin with a bow,” she said authoritatively. “First to me, your teacher.” As Pearl gracefully bowed to her pupils, Dipper and Connie followed suit, albeit a bit less confidently, both of them awkwardly holding their swords and unwittingly showing that they had quite a lot to learn. “Now again, to your fellow student.” The pair did as the white Gem said, respectfully bowing to each other and ignoring the soft chuckles starting to bubble up from Mabel and Steven behind them. “And finally, to your lieges.” Pearl nodded over to the aforementioned laughing pair, who were quick to sober up under the sudden scrutiny.

Steven’s smile was quick to return however as Connie lowered herself to one knee before him, her manner filled with plenty of hints of levity as she did so. “My liege,” she remarked, her tone intentionally overdramatic.

“Miss Knight,” the young Gem acknowledged with an air of playful sovereignty before both him and Connie broke down into a gale of muted laughter under their breaths.

Mabel was already smirking as she watched this silly, lighthearted interaction, but her smile widened with surprise as Dipper suddenly bowed to her, much to her amusement. “Tis an honor, Sir Dipping Sauce,” she giggled, slightly bowing back to him, though Dipper adamantly refused to join in on her merriment.

“Come on, Mabel,” he scowled admonishingly as he glanced up at her slightly, causing her smile to drop almost instantly. “This is serious.”

“Indeed it is, Dipper,” Pearl agreed as she overheard this, taking a step closer. “I’m glad someone here recognizes that fact…” The white Gem frowned as she sent a critical glance to Steven and Connie, who were quick to stop laughing and straighten up upon being called out.

“Oh! S-sorry, ma’am!” Connie blushed, clearly flustered by her teacher’s admonishment.

“Mm hm…” Pearl nodded as her gemstone began to glow. Out of it emerged a pair of near-perfect holographic replicas of the white Gem, both of them already wielding solid rapiers as it stood emotionlessly and rigidly alongside the real Pearl. “Now, to begin, these holo-Pearls will be your opponents.”

While Connie, Mabel, and Dipper were all quite impressed by the white Gem’s holographic abilities, Steven was instantly set on high alert, largely because of something that had happened not too long before summer had begun. In fact, his dread progressively grew as both holo-Pearls raised their blades a bit, their voices crisp and robotic as they spoke in orderly unison. “Level 0, beginner set, dual opponents. Do you wish to engage in combat?”

“Yes!” Connie readily exclaimed, her eyes a light with daring excitement.

“Uh, s-sure, I guess,” Dipper replied a bit more unsteadily, undoubtedly intimidated by the fact that they were actually going to start off learning how to fight firsthand.  

Steven, however, was far less complacent with the idea of two of his friends being pitted against such heartless holographs in the same way he had when Pearl had been out of commission for nearly two weeks and one of the only remnants of her he had left had been one such ruthless combatant apparition. Which was why, upon his mere self-preservation instinct alone, a large pink bubble bloomed around him, Connie, Mabel, and Dipper, startling the other three as they all looked to the wide-eyed young Gem questioningly.

“Steven? Are… you ok?” Mabel asked with a concerned frown, taking note of his rather shallow, sharp breathing.

“H-huh?” Steven blinked before noticing the bubble he had unconsciously created. “Oh! I-I’m sorry! It’s… i-it was… um, r-reflex…” The young Gem lowered his bubble, scratching the back of his neck as he let out an awkward laugh and began to back away. “Uh, y-you guys just be careful and we’ll… we’ll, uh, be over here…”

“Yeah, have fun, you guys!” Mabel called with a small smile as she began to follow Steven over to the stands, but not before placing a steady hand on Dipper’s uninjured shoulder. “Seriously though, bro-bro,” she whispered to him, her manner suddenly quite intent and worried. “Be careful. Even if you said you’re feeling better, you still probably shouldn’t go all overboard with this sword fighting stuff—even if it is really cool—so soon after… w-well, you know. So… so just promise me you won’t push yourself too far… ok?”

Dipper hesitated upon hearing this, his grip tightening around the hilt of his sword as he met his sister’s sincere, almost pleading gaze. But all the same, he forced a weak, reassuring smile, pulling his posture up as he nodded slightly. “Don’t worry, Mabel. I’m not gonna go ‘overboard’ or anything like that. I… I promise.”

Mabel smiled once more, allayed by this affirmation as her hand slipped off his shoulder. “Thanks,” she sighed contentedly as she hurried to join Steven on the stands. “And hey! You got this, ‘Sir Dippin-Dots! I’ll be rooting for you!”

Despite his earlier exasperation with Mabel’s playful nicknaming, Dipper couldn’t help but crack a genuine smile at this, glad for her vote of confidence that easily could have been nothing more than teasing under different circumstances. Even so, he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit guilty as he glanced down to the sword in his hand, not entirely sure if he’d be able to live up to the promise he had just made to her.

Seeing that there was no further distractions or delay, Pearl came to stand in between her two students, placing guiding hands upon both of their shoulders as she started her very first lesson. “Alright, everything begins with your stance… Remember,” the white Gem began correcting her students’ starting positions, choosing to instruct them in the best way she knew how: through song. “You do it for them,” she sang brightly as she guided Connie to lower her blade a bit while helping Dipper reposition his footing. “And you would do it again.” As the pair of holo-Pearls stepped forward, the white Gem nodded, prompting her pupils to engage them under their guidance. The first swings were slow and simultaneous, with both blades cleanly landing against those of the holograms. Pearl smiled in approval as the kids both flinched at their initial strikes, Dipper out of surprise and Connie out of amazement. “You do it for her—that is to say,” she blushed awkwardly at her missay, something that neither of her students caught as she turned it back around. “You do it for them.”

Steven and Mabel smiled cheerfully as they watched this training commence from the sidelines, both of them more than eager to support and cheer Dipper and Connie on. In fact, Mabel readily did so, excitedly jumping out of her seat as she watched Dipper successfully cross swords with the holo-Pearl yet again. “Yeah! You go-go, bro-bro!”

“Shh!” Pearl quickly quieted, glancing back at the pair on the stands admonishingly, lest her pupils’ concentration be broken.

“Oops! Sorry!” Mabel called back, somewhat embarrassed as she sat back down alongside Steven. Still, despite this brief distraction, Pearl continued her instruction, stepping away from her students as she critiqued their posture and aim.

“Keep your stance wide, keep your body lowered,” she sang, her authoritative frown turning into a smile as Dipper and Connie took her advice and adjusted their stances. With this initial step out of the way, the white Gem decided to move things along by stepping into things herself. Seeing as how there was only one of her, her pupils had to take turns practicing with her in mock, very slow moving back and forth parrying. Dipper went first, trying his best to remain steady and confident as he exchanged gentle, controlled strikes under Pearl’s continued musical instruction. “As your moving forward, balance is the key! Right foot, left foot,” Pearl nodded in approval as Dipper quickly checked and corrected his footing, though she didn’t happen to notice him briefly cringe as he put a bit too much pressure on his injured ankle. Still, he was quick to brush the pain off, knowing that he couldn’t let that, or anything else for that matter, hinder him from doing this. “Now go even faster. And as you’re moving backwards, keep your eyes on me…”

The rest of that afternoon, as well as the next several days were filled with rigorous training, from sunup to sundown, as Pearl dutifully continued instructing Dipper and Connie in the way of the blade. Not that either of the aforementioned pupils minded such a tireless regiment; both of them were more than eager to learn everything the white Gem had to teach them, which was why they gladly went along with her to the sky arena every day without fail. While most mornings didn’t see Steven and Mabel accompanying them at dawn, they always did make sure to show up to watch the pair train at some point during the day, and needless to say that they were aptly impressed by the progression that they saw. Despite their lack of any former training until now, both Dipper and Connie were amazingly fast learners, something that really wasn’t that surprising given how unwaveringly brilliant both of them already were. Under Pearl’s firm but fair tutelage, their skills excelled at largely the same speed as the white Gem staunchly refused to let either of them lag too far behind before moving on. As a result, the pair learned the skills of sword fighting at a very steady rate, going from the basic beginner set to the introductory intermediate level in only a few days’ time.

As part of the intermediate level, the holo-Pearls became more intense and aggressive, something that wasn’t lost on Connie in particular as she went up against one in a one-on-one duel. Pearl stood by and watched intently, Dipper doing the same thing, especially since he would be going right after her, as she ran to the hologram and met its blade squarely, echoing what the white Gem had taught them thus far in song. “Keep my stance wide,” Connie sang, a fierce expression on her face as she beat the holo-Pearl’s sword back.

“Good,” Pearl noted approvingly, proud of how Connie had managed to move past her most glaring flaw: her difficulty counterattacking.

“Keep my body lowered,” Connie continued, smoothly ducking down under the hologram’s blade.

“Right!”

“As I’m moving forward-”

“Concentrate!” Pearl cut her off upon noticing a small misstep, something that couldn’t be allowed anywhere past the beginner level. “Don’t you want them to live?!”

Upon hearing this, Steven and Mabel couldn’t help but suck in a unified sharp breath from the stands, both of them already quite on the edge of their seats as they watched Connie narrowly weave out of the path of the hologram’s sword. Certainly, the both figured, the last thing she needed at a high-stakes moment like this was for Pearl to be putting so much pressure on her shoulders.

“Right foot, left foot,” Connie grunted as the holo-Pearl’s sword lightly grazed her arm, but even so, she didn’t stop for an instant. Instead, she lashed her blade out, only barely missing the hologram’s transparent form as she backed up a bit to try again.

“Put your whole body into it!” Pearl admonished, snapping her fingers at the same time and discreetly calling another hologram of herself into action, though its target wasn’t Connie. Rather, it was Dipper, for the sake of eliminating his greatest challenge in training thus far: warding off surprise attacks. Mabel gasped as she noticed the holo-Pearl silently rushing towards her brother from behind, but before she could even call out a warning to him, Dipper abruptly spun around and met the hologram’s blade in a perfectly-timed block. Though Pearl was pleased with this, she didn’t let the hologram ease up as it pressed its blade down hard against Dipper’s, forcing him to maintain his stance and do everything he could to push back, a feat that wasn’t as easy as it should have been, given his still-injured shoulder. At the same time, the holo-Pearl Connie was dueling had locked her in a similar strait, with its sword locked squarely against hers as it applied a daunting amount of force against her. Steven and Mabel watched this display of literal tension breathlessly from their seats, both of them crossing their fingers that Dipper and Connie would prevail, and in the end, they did almost simultaneously. Connie cut herself free first, maneuvering her blade past the holo-Pearl’s and going in for a clean cut across the hologram’s chest and disabling it completely. Mere seconds later, Dipper released his sword from the holo-Pearl’s entirely, narrowly rolling out of the path of its blade as it crashed into the ground where he had once stood before he stabbed the hologram right into its exposed back. “Yes!” Pearl commended boldly at such a successful display, one that only slightly relieved the still quite anxious pair in the stands, who only grew more anxious as they heard the white Gem’s next lesson. “Everything you have, everything you are, you’ve got to give!”

Pearl elaborated on that imposing mantra that night after the sun had gone down and training had ended for the day. The kids all sat on the stands before her as the white Gem detailed an entirely different aspect of sword fighting via yet another holographic projection from her Gem, one that put her own memories on display for them all to see. “On the battlefield, when everything is chaos,” The scene opened up on what had to be thousands of years ago, on a battlefield entrenched in tall, burning flames in seemingly every direction. Amidst these flames ran Pearl, her outfit quite different, a battle-damaged blade in her hand, and a look of unabridged terror on her face as she searched the area with clear desperation. “And you have nothing but the way you feel, your strategy and a sword,” The white Gem screeched to a halt with a frightened gasp as she came across an alarming sight: a tall, bulky, almost monstrous Gem, with a scowl on her face and a huge battle axe in her hands, towering over none other than Rose Quartz. The pink Gem’s expression was obscured by shadows cast by the flames, but her manner was fierce, albeit exhausted as she struggled to remain standing and keep her steady hold on her iconic sword and shield. “You just think about the life you’ll have together after the war,” Pearl was in tears as she watched this brutal scene, her heart breaking at the mere thought of her beloved liege facing such a gruesome end. Which was why she was more than resolved to do everything in her power to put a stop to it. “And then you do it for her,” Without any hesitation at all, Pearl threw herself right in front of Rose as the Homeworld Gem raised her axe, her blade brandished in a bold attempt to stop it and protect the pink Gem from any harm, even at her own expense. “That’s how you know you can win!” As the Homeworld Gem’s axe smashed into Pearl’s sword, the holographic display abruptly disappeared into nothing more than a burst of sparkles in the night air, leaving all four of the kids completely in awe over what they had just witnessed. Even so, Pearl wasn’t finished yet as she raced forward, her sword at the ready as she engaged a holo-Pearl in a brief skirmish, one that ultimately ended with her easily winning with both skill and grace, just as she always did. “You do it for her, that is to say, you’ll do it for them!”

Considering that their training was so consistent and so physically demanding, it was almost something of a miracle that neither Dipper nor Connie had worked themselves into exhaustion yet. Even so, they had both still gained their fair share of cuts and callouses over the past several days, ones that were getting harder and harder to avoid with each passing practice skirmish.

Connie cringed as she looked over her rough, scarred hand, knowing that trying to wield her blade with it being in such a dilapidated state would be a challenge. At the same time, Dipper was attempting to readjust the bandages covering his shoulder wound, only to little avail seeing as how he was trying to tend to the still rather sore injury all on his own. Fortunately for them both, Pearl soon stepped in, effervescent as ever as she relayed more wisdom upon her two advancing young pupils. “Deep down, you know you weren’t built for fighting,” she sang, pulling a fresh roll of gauze out of her gem before she began wrapping Connie’s calloused hands up for her. “But that doesn’t mean you’re not prepared to try.” As soon as she was done, the white Gem moved on to help Dipper, using the rest of her gauze to cover his exposed shoulder before nodding with pride over his persistence. “What they don’t know is your real advantage,” Pearl paused briefly as Steven and Mabel hurried over, bright smiles on their faces as they cheerfully offered Dipper and Connie a generous tray of snacks and juice they had prepared to help keep the pair energized during their training. Both of them were more than prepared to partake of these snacks too before Pearl cut in, her arms crossed as she staunchly reminded them that there was no time for breaks of any kind. “When you live for someone, you’re prepared to die!”

This dramatic lesson certainly seemed to hit its mark as Dipper and Connie did as she silently instructed and coldly passed Mabel and Steven’s snacks up, instead opting to intently soak in every word Pearl passed on to them. It was clear to see that the white Gem’s dedication to Rose had been endless, selfless and noble. And through this powerful example, both of her pupils were inspired to take after her in showing that same kind of boundless fidelity to Mabel and Steven. Based on everything Pearl had taught them thus far, this was the highest calling either of them could strive towards, the ultimate mission of both of their lifetimes, something that they both deeply and readily believed in as much as Pearl herself did. The white Gem had instructed them, time and time again throughout their training, that those they sought to protect were always to be put first, above anything and everything else, especially themselves. Which meant that for Connie, Steven had to be her number one priority while Mabel was Dipper’s, regardless of how much danger they might have to throw themselves into and how deadly things might eventually become.

However, needless to say that such self-sacrificial sentiments were quite disconcerting to Steven and Mabel themselves, especially as they both started to notice just how serious Connie and Dipper were taking Pearl’s teachings. As the days went by and the pair continued to progress in their sword pair skills, the white Gem noticeably stopped pulling any punches with them, to the point that any misstep usually resulted in injury. Fortunately, both Dipper and Connie were getting to be quite good, but even so, it still bothered Steven and Mabel every time they watched either of them take a hit while Pearl simply shrugged their cuts and bruises off and forced them to keep going. And while both of them were rather unnerved by how things were going, neither of them quite knew how to go about speaking up about it. After all, Pearl was quite invested in watching her pupils succeed, and her students themselves were growing strong and skillful under her tutelage. Indeed, there were benefits to these lessons, ones that went far beyond the expertise being gained. Because Steven could see that Connie had come to love the art she was learning; there was a passion in her voice as whenever she spoke of it and a fire in her eyes every time she picked up her blade. This was something she wanted to do, Steven knew, and the last thing he ever wanted to do was to hold her back from something she shined so brightly in. At the same time, Mabel largely felt the same way about Dipper’s ongoing training, but for slightly different reasons. As distracted as he was with his sword fighting, he seemed to finally be making a steady emotional recovery from that traumatic puppet show, largely since he seemed to finally have a mostly constructive outlet to take his mind off of everything that had happened. And while his physical injuries still remained, even they seemed to be of little hinderance to him as he practiced the highly complex maneuvers and techniques Pearl demanded of him. So really, Mabel figured, what were a few lessons of implied self-depreciation when compared to all of the good this sword training was doing for Dipper? Certainly that was would prove to be a benefit to them all rather than yet another disaster to add to the ever-growing pile of disasters they had been through lately.

Wouldn’t it?

While the last thing Pearl wanted was for either of her students to become cocky and overconfident in their abilities, she was unable to deny that she was quite pleased with their shared rapid progression. Still, she recognized for as fast as they both were developing their skills, they still had a lot to learn if they ever wanted to truly come close to her level of expertise. But even so, if there was one thing the white Gem didn’t do, it was play favorites, which was why every time Connie received a word of praise, so did Dipper, and every time Dipper admonished, Connie was as well. Interestingly enough, Pearl didn’t seem too interested in teaching them to work off of each other or fight as a team; instead, she wanted them to be able to stand on their own on the battlefield, as that was a very common situation she had faced time and time again during the war. So instead, as they finally moved into advanced techniques, they once again found themselves fighting separate holo-Pearls once more, both of them calibrated to the most challenging, unforgiving battle settings yet. And as Dipper and Connie rushed forward, both of their blades boldly brandished to take their opponents head on, they both firmly reiterated everything Pearl had taught them thus far while also putting it all into skillful practice.

“Deep down, we know,” Connie began, her sword making the first strike against the holo-Pearls as a rapid succession of blows commenced. “That we’re only human-”

“True,” Pearl agreed, smiling somewhat as she watched Connie swiftly dodge a fierce, fast swing.

“But we know that we can draw our swords and fight!” Connie and Pearl sang in unison, and while he normally wouldn’t have, Dipper was so caught up in the gallant spirit of the moment that he found himself joining in.

“With our short existence,” he continued the song with apt verve as he lashed his blade out, outmaneuvering the holo-Pearl, which had almost managed to catch his arm in the process. “We can make a difference-”

“Yes! Excellent!” the white Gem exclaimed, more than proud to see both of her pupils completely adopting her altruistic, sacrificial mindset.

“We can be there for them!” Connie joined Dipper as they sang together while going in for their final strikes. Connie went high, preforming an impressive leap as she brought the tip of her blade down onto the unprepared holo-Pearl. At the same time, Dipper utilized a lower approach, swerving out of the path of the hologram’s blade before kicking its feet out from under it and knocking it down, allowing him to go in for a clean finishing blow. “We can be their knights!”

Pearl clasped her hands together brightly over their brazen victories, delighted to see that they had not only utilized every move and skill she had taught them but also had taken up a similar vow to the one she had made centuries ago. “We can do it for them,” Dipper and Connie sang as they crossed their blades in celebration of their triumph.

“You do it for her,” Pearl harmonized with them as she added her sword onto theirs. Still, she really didn’t let them rest for too long before summoning up two new holo-Pearls to battle. “Ok, now do that again.”

“Yes, ma’am!” both of her students eagerly agreed, wasting no time in taking the set of holograms on. As they battled their opponents, Steven and Mabel continued watching from the sidelines, just as they had been doing throughout this ongoing training, both of them growing more and more anxious about it all. Pearl’s insistence upon Dipper and Connie giving everything they had to give for their sakes certainly didn’t seem to be lightening up; if anything, the white Gem seemed to be enforcing this essential message to her pupils more and more with every lesson. Which was more than alarming, considering just how serious they both seemed to be taking it.

In almost no time at all, Dipper and Connie seamlessly defeated their respective holo-Pearls, and despite the fact that they were both a bit battle-weary and breathless, the white Gem called them over to join her as soon as they were done. “You do it for her,” Pearl began, respectfully bowing down to one knee before Steven and Mabel, her sword crossed over her heart and her expression devout and sincere. “And now you say-” Connie and Dipper followed her example, carrying out the same show of honor and reverence they preformed for their lieges at the end of every training session. A show that only made Steven and Mabel mutually feel all the more uncomfortable and guilty every time they saw it, especially as Dipper and Connie repeated the white Gem’s eternal, self-negating, almost frightening mantra yet again.

“We’ll do it for them.”

Nearly two weeks had passed since Connie and Dipper had started training with Pearl, and in that short span of time, they had both excelled from complete novices to near experts at an exponential rate. The white Gem’s teaching methods were very hands on and effective, adding onto just how enthusiastic and ardent the pair was to learn and creating a very fast-paced but practical lesson plan. Every day, their training would become more and more challenging, and every day, they both found ways to conquer these challenges using their newfound skills and their own innate wit and dexterity. There was hardly anything Pearl could throw at Dipper and Connie that they couldn’t eventually overcome, which was why she had resorted to a type of lesson that would hopefully serve to advance their skills even more.

“So far, you two have proven yourselves to be quite adept at fighting your way through my holo-Pearls,” Pearl began as she paced before her two patiently waiting students. “Which would reasonably equate to faceless, nameless enemies in a real battle, therefore making them relatively easy and consequence-less to take down. However, in such a real battle, you might not always be facing mere “nameless” enemies. There’s always, always a chance, no matter how small or outlandish, that you may someday find yourself standing against your own fellow soldiers. And if that day ever comes, then you both need to be ready to rise to the occasion, to protect them-” She motioned back towards Steven and Mabel, who both sat rigidly on the stands, their eyes wide as they overheard every alarming word Pearl was imparting to her students. “No matter what, against any obstacle that stands in your way, even if those obstacles are your most trusted friends and allies. Which is why today, instead of combatting mere holograms, you two are going to duel each other.”

“Wait… what?” Dipper spoke up, caught off guard by this command as him and Connie exchanged an uneasy glance.

“You want us to fight… each other?” Connie asked, clearly not too fond of the idea. After all, neither of them had ever utilized their skills on actual human opponents before; usually they just practiced with holo-Pearls or the much more experienced white Gem herself. With their abilities as sharp and honed as they were, there was no doubt that they’d be nearly evenly matched, but even so, there was always a chance that they could accidently hurt each other, a thought that equally unnerved them both.

“Yes; that’s what I just said, isn’t it?” Pearl crossed her arms caustically. “Now don’t worry; it’ll only be a friendly skirmish. The first one to be pinned down loses. You may begin whenever you’re both ready. And remember: don’t hold back on each other, because your enemies certainly won’t hold back on you.”

Dipper and Connie looked to each other with relative uncertainty once again, but they were both quick to put their apprehension aside and dutifully do as their instructor said. As soon as they bowed to each other and took up their starting positions, their unexpected duel began, their swords clashing and bouncing off each other as they moved fast and smooth, even if it was clear they were pulling their blows a bit. As Pearl attentively supervised this match, Steven and Mabel observed it with unabridged worry, neither of them unable to deny how wrong it was to see two of their friends be openly encouraged to go after each other with deadly weapons like this. And while Steven didn’t particularly want to interrupt such a serious training session, Mabel had few less qualms about it as she suddenly rose to stand, knowing that enough was starting to become enough.

“Dipper, make sure to cover your openings!” Pearl called as her students continued battling. “Connie, remember not to ease up your grip! And both of you, please keep in that you’re supposed to stay moving at all times! A target in motion is a much harder target to hit!”

“Um… Pearl?”

“Yes?” Pearl only barely glanced over her shoulder at Mabel and Steven as they stood behind her, both of their expression quite fretful, though the white Gem hardly noticed. “Make it quick, you two. This duel is an integral step in Dipper and Connie’s training and I need to be able to focus on it to properly analyze their progress.”

“Uh, yeah… that’s kinda the thing…” Mabel began, rubbing her arm awkwardly. “A-are you really sure Dipper and Connie should be out there beating each other up like that?”

“Well, first of all, they’re not simply ‘beating each other up’, Mabel,” the white Gem remarked pointedly. “They’re utilizing highly advanced techniques to test their combat abilities against an opponent of similar skill.”

“Uh, y-yeah, we got that…” Steven spoke up, averting eye contact with Pearl out of clear nervousness. “We’re just… not so sure if this is exactly… safe…”

“Safe?” Pearl scoffed somewhat harshly. “Steven, in an actual battle, ‘safety’ is not a commodity that either Connie or Dipper will have at their disposal. They have to be prepared to take down whatever foe crosses their path. Perhaps I should remind you both that all this isn’t a game; this is real, serious, tangible training to equip them with the skills necessary to stand on their own in the intense violence of an unforgiving war!”

“War? What war?!” Mabel asked, growing somewhat frustrated with the white Gem’s insistence upon such skewed morals.

“Any war!” the white Gem scowled as she turned to the pair hotly, heedless of Dipper and Connie still dueling behind her. “We can’t just take advantage of the idea that peaceful times like these will last forever! A threat could come upon us at literally any minute, something you both should know full well by now! And the more blades we have at the ready to stand against such threats, the better off we all are!”

“But Pearl,” Steven said, finally glancing up at his guardian himself with a woeful frown. “This is kinda getting… sort of intense… A-are you sure you’re not taking all of this sword fighting stuff… a bit too far?”

Pearl stopped short at this, taking in a sharp breath as her expression filled in with appalled anger. Even so, she said nothing further on the matter as she instead sharply clapped her hands, abruptly halting the duel as Dipper and Connie stopped, their blades still pressed together as they looked to their teacher in apt confusion. “That’s enough for today,” she said coldly, a somewhat bitter frown on her face as she looked down at Steven and Mabel, who both shrink back away from her slightly. “Apparently, somebody doesn’t approve of my training methods, so we’ll just have to call this one a draw.”

At this interruption, Dipper and Connie both turned to Steven and Mabel, the former showing annoyance in his expression while the latter only maintained a questioning glance at the anxious pair. Even so, they didn’t really pursue their concerns any further at the moment, seeing as how trying to do so with Pearl had only led to the confirmation that this situation was out of their control. They were only reminded of this fact as the white Gem reminded her pupils not to be late for tomorrow’s session, making it quite clear that she really had no intentions of stopping, or even reigning things back at all. She was going to continue imparting these lessons of self-denial and sacrifice, she was going to keep making them practice these devastating maneuvers on each other, she was going to continue enforcing this dangerous, destructive mindset upon them both. And the worst part was, they were both going to willingly continue soaking this mindset in until they had either gone off the deep end entirely of manic zeal, or until they made good on their vow to protect them until death.

Whichever came first.

“Ok, so you agree with me that this has seriously gotten out of hand right? Because this has seriously gotten out of hand,” Mabel frowned as she paced around the attic that night, freely relating her concerns to Steven over the phone. Fortunately for her, Dipper wasn’t there and he wouldn’t be for quite some time; she knew well that he had taken to spending nearly every waking moment he wasn’t training with Pearl and Connie practicing on his own. Of course, that wasn’t really something that exactly relieved Mabel in light of how aggressive things were getting, but still, for the moment, it worked for her.

“Y-yeah, it has…” Steven sighed, covering his eyes with his arm as he lay in bed restlessly. “When we convinced Pearl to teach Connie and Dipper sword fighting, I thought it was just gonna be a fun, one-time thing. But what its turned into is… a disaster…”

“It sure is,” Mabel agreed, so caught up in her worries that she didn’t even notice Waddles trailing behind her. “But it’s not like we can just… force them to stop with all these lessons and junk. They both really seem to be getting really, really good, and they’re both super into it!”

“Yeah, I mean, Connie’s so excited about all her training that its all she ever seems to talk about anymore!” Steven noted, though he wasn’t sure if this was really a good or a bad thing. “She seems like she’s really happy about all of it… I-I… I don’t know if I wanna be the one to take something she loves away from her like that…”

“I know what you mean…” Mabel pouted somewhat guiltily, glancing down to the floor. “Even though he kept telling everyone that he was ok, I could tell that for those first few days after the whole Bill thing, Dipper was really having a rough time. He wasn’t sleeping, he was barely eating, and he wouldn’t even smile or laugh about anything! But ever since he’s started sword fighting, it’s almost like he’s back to his old self! Y-you know, aside from the fact that the only thing he really thinks about anymore is training…”

“See, that’s just it, Mabel!” Steven sat up in bed with an exasperated huff. “They’re both going just as overboard with all this as Pearl is! I-I think… maybe… w-we need to say something to Dipper and Connie themselves…”

“Yeah, m-maybe…” Mabel halfheartedly assented, though really she wasn’t too fond of the idea of taking her brother’s very necessary coping mechanism away from him. “But what if they’re like Pearl and don’t listen to us?”

“Well, they need to!” Steven insisted. “I-f they keep going like they are, t-then they could really hurt themselves, or worse! We have to do something about this, and soon! B-before… before its too late.”

“Y-you’re right…” Mabel consented, wavering under the thought of seeing Dipper just as broken and miserable as he had been right after that ill-fated puppet show. “But how?”

“We can try tomorrow, before they go off with Pearl to the sky arena,” the young Gem suggested thoughtfully. “Maybe if we catch them early enough, we might be able to talk some sense into them. And if we can’t… well… w-we’ll just have to come up with something else then!”

“Yeah…” Mabel sighed softly, plopping down onto her bed as she stared at her brother’s empty one worriedly. “Well then, I-I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then…”

“Yep, see you tomorrow,” Steven nodded as firmly as he could before hanging up. Still, his confidence in their newfound plan diminished a moment later as he leaned back into bed, staring up at the ceiling listlessly. As much as he wanted to convince Connie and Dipper against the dangerous path Pearl had set them on, he still was quite nervous about going through with it.

Perhaps if all this sword fighting business had begun a few weeks ago, the young Gem wouldn’t have had as many qualms about speaking up about the whole thing, but things felt so different now. The invasion alone had already changed so much and had brought so many new fears to the surface for them all, but their struggle against Bill had only shaken the four of them up even more, in arguably even worse ways. Really, it only made sense that Connie and especially Dipper would want to learn some form of self-defense after they had all been so incredibly close to death. But the fact that such self-defense seemed to be pushing them both towards a potentially willing death was yet another alarming circumstance altogether.

And really, Steven couldn’t help but feel partially guilty for it all. Because he had been the one to bring up training Dipper and Connie to Pearl in the first place. Because he had let things get this far and this deadly. Because, like always, he had been the one to drag his friends into so much disaster and turmoil and pain. Into fights that weren’t theirs at all. Into burdens they should have never had to bear in the first place.

While Steven knew that him and Mabel were already conspiring to talk to Dipper and Connie tomorrow, the young Gem suddenly felt very compelled to get a head start on things. With a fretful frown, he grabbed his phone again, hesitantly dialing up Connie’s number and nervously holding his breath as he waited for her to answer.

“Hello?” Connie greeted briskly, lashing out the pencil she was using in place of her practice sword, since her mother certainly would never allow a weapon like that in their house.

“C-Connie?” Steven began, sitting up on his bed.

“Oh, hey, Steven!” Connie smiled, swinging her pencil out in a broad maneuver as she practiced on her own time. “Its kinda late for you to be calling, isn’t it? I was just working on a few advanced techniques before bed. Tomorrow, Pearl’s having me and Dipper fight through an entire horde of holo-Pearls! Isn’t that exciting?”

“E-exciting, yeah…” the young Gem halfheartedly agreed. “Uh, Connie? I… well, I just wanted to talk to you about-”

“Hold that thought, Steven,” Connie cut him off, putting her phone aside for a moment so she could pull off a series of more physically involved moves. For a moment or two, the young Gem patiently waited to speak his peace, but as his anxiety began to rise, he found that he really wasn’t able to let it wait much longer.

“Connie? A-are you still there?”

“Yah!” Connie shouted, still engrossed in her practice as she carried out a forceful thrust.

“Oh, well, uh… ok…” Steven misinterpreted, taking in another deep breath before he spoke his piece. “Well, uh… This might sound a little… crazy, but me and Mabel were talking earlier and we… we think that you and Dipper and Pearl might be getting kinda… carried away with this whole sword fighting thing. I mean, you guys have been at this nonstop for almost two weeks now! I-I’m just saying that, m-maybe it might be time for you three to ease up on all this a bit? We just… I don’t want to see you get hurt. So… what do you say?”

“Ok, I’m ready now, Steven,” Connie said breathlessly as she picked her phone up again, revealing that she hadn’t heard a single word of his earnest appeal. “What did you wanna talk to me about?”

Unable to work up the nerve to repeat everything he had just said, Steven instead utilized his flight response and abruptly hung up without even sparing a word of farewell. Connie was somewhat surprised by this on the other line, but even so, she shrugged it off and threw herself right back into practicing. At the same time, Steven flopped back onto his bed, groaning in loud exasperation. He wanted to steer Connie away from this perilous vow, he really did, but it seemed as though every force of fate was conspiring against him on that regard. And yet, the biggest obstacle keeping him from revealing how he really felt was himself. The thought of trying to limit Connie, of keeping her from her full potential and holding her back from something she excelled so much at, was so unbearable to the young Gem that he could hardly stand it. There had to be a better way, but as far what that way really was, he had no idea. Really, the most he could now was just wait until to try and make his case again with Mabel tomorrow, in the hopes that both Connie and Dipper would listen.

Because if they didn’t, then there was no telling how all this would end up.

Mabel flinched as she heard the sound of a blade bouncing off of its target outside once more, her arms wrapped tightly around Waddles as she hugged him close to her chest. She hadn’t felt this low or conflicted since the immediate aftermath of the invasion when she had been trying to keep the truth hidden from Stan. And in a way, this situation was somewhat similar, only much more serious. Because this was about more than just trying to avoid upsetting her great uncle; this was about trying to spare her brother from any more pain than he had already suffered through.

And if she was completely honest with herself, Mabel knew that all that the fault for all that pain rested solely on her shoulders. Even outside of Dipper’s concerning resolve to pick up sword fighting with the supposed intent of keeping her safe, she knew what this all went back to and it was certainly that ridiculous puppet show of hers and her refusal to turn away from it for so much as a second to help him when he needed her most. The truth of it was, she had failed him, abandoned him and put him in a desperate spot that had left him bloodied and broken and nearly ended up costing him his life. And now, he was clearly compensating for the mistake she had made by putting everything he had left into forcing himself to become stronger, pushing himself past his limits, preparing himself to die if it meant keeping her safe.

And Mabel knew she only had herself to blame for every single part of it all.

Her guilt-ridden thoughts were soon interrupted as the attic door started to open, and for a moment, Mabel held her breath at the possibility that Dipper actually intended on giving himself a much needed break. However, her hopes were soon dashed when Stan poked his head into the room instead. “Hey!” the conman exclaimed with an impatient scowl. “Where the heck is your brother?! Every night for the past week, whenever I’ve come up here to check on you two runts, he’s been completely MIA! He’s not out making friends with weird water women again, is he?”

“Uh, n-no… he… h-he’s just-” Mabel frowned as she sat up, unsure of what to really say. Very early on into his training, Dipper had urged her to promise to agree to not say a word about it to Stan, under the fear that the conman would make him stop such a potentially dangerous pursuit. And at first, this wasn’t really a promise Mabel had too many qualms with keeping, until now. While she hated the idea of breaking a vow to her brother like this, she knew that Stan might perhaps be her only chance at getting Dipper to recant from his sacrificial resolve. “Actually, Grunkle Stan, Dipper’s outside practicing,” she started again, her expression determined and hopeful. “He’s been learning how to sword fight from Pearl, but-”

“Whoa, what?” Stan cut in, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Dipper’s learning how to sword fight? Short, sweaty, noodle arm, can barely even lift a box of snow globes, whines about a paper cut for two days Dipper? Are you sure you’re talking about our Dipper here and not some other one?”

“No, it’s true, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel reiterated with more sincerity. “He’s been at it for the past two weeks, a-and he’s getting really good, but Pearl’s been teaching him all this really crazy, self-sacrificy stuff, and… I’m just not so sure it’s a good idea for him to keep at it…”

“Kid, are you kidding me?” Stan scoffed incredulously, an almost proud grin spreading across his face. “Sounds to me like this is a great idea! Learning some kind of self defense like that is exactly the sorta thing Dipper needs!”

“W-what?” Mabel gaped, knowing that such open support had been the last thing she had been expecting from the conman.

“Yeah, I mean, have you seen how down he’s been lately? Its about time the kid got his head out of those depressing clouds of his and back into the game! And sure, sword fighting may not as be as manly as something like boxing, at least its something! I hate to say it, but I’m actually kinda proud of him for stepping up and fighting back, just like I always hoped he would.”

“Yeah, but Grunkle Stan, Pearl’s been-”

“And he’s learning all this from Pearl, of all people, who could’ve guessed!” Stan interrupted Mabel again, not even noticing her clear worried expression. “I knew she had a knack for playing with those glorified knives, but I never pegged her as the kind to teach a 12 year old how to use ‘em! Guess I owe her a bit of credit too… even though I really hate to say that.”

“Grunkle Stan!”

“Geez, kid, what?!” the conman asked, looking to his distraught niece caustically. “Can’t ya see I’m trying to have a rare moment of appreciate for two total nerds over here? What’s so important that you gotta tell me about it right now?”

“Uh, well, I… I-I, um…” Mabel hesitated, quickly realizing that her plan was crashing and burning fast. As excited as Stan seemed to be about Dipper’s training after only having just heard about it, there really wasn’t much of a chance that she’d be able to convince him to force him to stop now. Really, when it came right down to it, Mabel realized that the only ones who dissented to this ongoing sword training amidst a sea of blinded support were her and Steven. And as much as she hoped it wasn’t true, chances were that it was going to stay like that. “Uh… Oops! Guess I forgot! I-I mean, it is kinda late, so I should probably be getting to bed anyway. Goodnight, Grunkle Stan!”

“O-oh!, well, I-” Stan cut himself off in surprise as Mabel abruptly curled up into her covers, turning over as she pretended to fall right asleep. “Goodnight, I guess…” While somewhat confused by her very terse, odd behavior, the conman simply shrugged it off as turned off the attic light, leaving his niece alone to her troubling thoughts once again.

As soon as she was sure Stan was gone, Mabel finally let out the long, disappointed sigh she had been holding back. She should have known that asking the conman for help wouldn’t have worked, and honestly, she shouldn’t have even bothered to rely on such an easy way out to begin with. This was her problem, one that she had started and one she ultimately had to deal with.

But unfortunately, she knew that she couldn’t deal with it by simply going back in time and undo everything selfish wrong she had done, as much as she wanted to. She couldn’t take back her foolish claim that her meager attempts at impressing some shallow boy were more important than Dipper’s selfless resolve to save Lapis. She couldn’t rush in and stop him from making that last-ditch deal with Bill, one that had left so much agony and ruin in its wake. She couldn’t erase his injuries or free him from his pain, inside and out. She couldn’t even work up the nerve to voice her concerns about the potential dangers of his ongoing training to him. As far as she was concerned, she could do nothing, despite how she wanted to do everything to fix the massive mess she had made.

Still though, she was definitely torn on that last matter more than anything else. Ever since Dipper had taken up sword fighting, Mabel had been able to clearly see that his confidence had returned, his spirits had been lifted, and his mind seemingly taken off of dread-fueled thoughts of toxic fusions and sadistic demons. For the first time in weeks, he had an outlet, something to put his otherwise listless energy into and something to keep him from falling too far into dejection and despair. Dipper needed this, Mabel knew, or at least something like this, lest he merely continue retreating inward into his own grief and trauma until he couldn’t be reached at all.

But at the same time, his sword training was far from completely beneficial. Even disregarding Pearl’s alarming lessons on self-sacrifice and abnegation, lessons that Dipper seemed to very much be taking to heart, he was also throwing himself into his training hard and heavy. Even now, he was outside, practicing his skills on the makeshift dummies and targets he had set up near the woods, just as he had been doing every night for the past week. It was starting to becoming increasingly clear to Mabel that her brother’s coping mechanism was also starting to turn into an all-out obsession, one that was robbing him of sleep, sociability, and safety.

And yet… she knew she couldn’t force him to leave this risky obsession behind, at least not with a clear conscious. After all, hadn’t her refusal to support her brother’s endeavors inevitably led to his possession and near-end at Bill’s hands? Certainly, the least she could do to make everything up to Dipper after her former negligence and selfishness was to give him all the encouragement he deserved. Which meant that if he really wanted to devote every part of himself to fighting to protect her, then she was really in no place to object to that.

Was she?

No, she wasn’t, she staunchly reminded herself, because that was only a luxury that would have been afforded to her this whole disaster hadn’t been entirely her fault in the first place. But this was her fault, something that she was starkly reminded of every time she heard the distant clamor of her brother’s sword just outside her window. And the more she sat and stewed in silence and guilt, listening to that sword hit its mark again, and again, and again, the more she was compelled to at the very least go and check on him, just to make sure he was alright. After all, if she couldn’t actually steer him off this depreciating path, the very least she could do was try to ensure his safety while he was on it.

So, taking care to be as discreet as possible, Mabel slipped out of the attic and headed downstairs, evading detection from Stan, wherever he was, as she emerged into the warm night air. The small practice course Dipper had set up with Soos’ assistance lay on the edge of the shack’s property line, far enough away from the building itself that Mabel had to resort to tucking away behind trees as not to be seen. And despite her immense earlier worry, the closer she got to her brother, the more her dread started to lift away into pride as she watched him exercise his rather impressive skills. Though he only had the light of a small lantern to see by, Dipper still managed to land heavy, even blows on the wooden dummy before him with deft and ease. His timing was excellent and his force as fierce as the almost angry look on his face as he slashed and hacked away at his target repeatedly. Mabel had to admit that his progression was amazing, almost miraculous even; in just two short weeks, he had gone from barely even knowing how to hold a sword right to wielding one like an expert. Clearly, he had found his element, one that he excelled and thrived in, and one that would serve as an asset to him far into the future. And perhaps, Mabel thought, there really wasn’t that much of a problem with that after all; true, the severe mantra Pearl passed on was disconcerting, but the skills she taught were without compare. Maybe in time, once their lessons had finally reached their natural end, such conditioning would fade away in time, leaving only those skills and the benefits connected to them behind. And then, perhaps things could finally go back to normal.

Except for no, they wouldn’t.

For as Mabel continued watching Dipper from afar, her eyes lit up with excitement as he boldly thrust his blade forward with an enraged shout, its tip digging deeply and precisely into the wood target in front of him. The moment it hit its mark, however, his battle cry quickly shifted into an unmistakable cry of agony as his hand flew away from his sword and went to grip his right eye instead. Likewise, he hurriedly wrapped his free arm around his torso almost desperately as he began to weakly collapse to his knees, his pained cry still echoing through the trees as Mabel let out a sharp gasp of fear in response to it. Without sparing a second thought about remaining hidden, she rushed forward from the trees, this time refusing to stand by the sidelines as her brother suffered once again.

“Dipper!” Mabel cried fretfully, dropping down to her knees as she reached him and placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“M-Mabel!?” Dipper glanced up to her in apt alarm, his hand still pressed tightly against his eye as he struggled to stand once more, but the unbearable pain rushing through his broken ribcage hindered him entirely. “W-what are you doing out here?”

“Who cares!?” Mabel shook her head, rife with worry as she took in the anguish written all over her brother’s face, despite his best attempts at hiding it. “What matters right now is what you’re doing out here! What happened? What hurts?! Is it that cut on your side? Your shoulder? It can’t be the black eye, that’s already healed up by now and-”

“It’s none of those,” Dipper cut in, already quite exasperated as he glanced away from her, flustered. “I-I’m fine, Mabel, really. I guess I just pushed myself too far for a minute there, but I’ll be ok in a second. So just… go back inside and go to sleep, ok?”

“No, not ok,” Mabel replied, her voice so quiet that it was almost inaudible. Her tone grew even more shaken as she finally noticed the bright drop of red slip out from under the hand Dipper was covering half his face up with. A cover that was clearly meant to block out more than just mere pain. “Dipper… let me see your eye.”

Dipper flinched at this request, his visible eye growing wide with obvious dread and guilt as he tersely shook his head. “No, Mabel, I already told you, I’m ok! You don’t need to-”

“If you’re so ‘ok’, then show me your eye!” Mabel snapped with unabridged frustration in her tone. Frustration that was finally enough to get Dipper to slowly, begrudgingly comply as he let out a defeated sigh and slowly moved his hand, allowing Mabel to see something that practically made her heart freeze with fear.

His eye was bleeding; there was simply no other way to describe it. The warning red liquid streamed down his cheek like a teardrop, almost like he was crying it. And really, that wasn’t too far of a stretch as it twitched with clear pain, his other eye starting to well up with actual tears as he looked to her in nothing less than absolute shame over this secret he had been harboring for so long now.

“Oh… Dipper…” Mabel whispered, gingerly reaching up a hand to help him, though she was quick to retract it. “W-what happened? Did… did you accidentally cut yourself or something?”

Dipper simply let out a bitter laugh at this, one that turned into a small, pained cry as he tried wiping some of the blood off his face, though it still kept coming nonetheless. “I wish it was that simple…” he sighed morosely, knowing that he couldn’t really keep the truth hidden any longer. “T-this… this has been happening almost every night since… s-since Bill—y-you… you know…”

“P-possessed you?” Mabel softly filled in the blank as Dipper tersely nodded, his hands folded into tight, trembling fists in his lap.

“A-at first, I didn’t really understand why my eye was just… randomly bleeding every night. Steven had mentioned something about how Bill had tried to threaten him to keep quiet by a-almost… h-he… he almost… he was going t-to…”

“Dipper…?” Mabel’s eyes grew wide with alarm as her brother trailed off again, shuddering as he wrapped his arms around himself and tried his hardest to chase away the remnant terror of things long passed but still far from over. “Dipper, c-come on,” she urged as best as she knew how, gripping his shoulders as she tried to snap him out of it. “B-Bill’s gone, you’re ok! Just… just talk to me, please-”

“He was going to cut my eye out!” Dipper choked out suddenly, hating how helpless he was to stop this show of complete and utter weakness and fear from leaking through his mask of indifference. “B-but… but he didn’t, obviously, and I-I just thought he had hurt it some other way, but no… t-this is something different. I was looking through the journal and… I found a bit that talked about side effects of being possessed by Bill a-and… this is one of them…”

“One of them?” Mabel asked waveringly. “W-what are the others?”

“I… don’t really know…” Dipper shook his head. “The whole eye-bleeding thing was the only one the journal really mentioned. Good news is that its only supposed to last a few weeks after… a-after being possessed, so it should stop any day now…”

Mabel initially said moment upon hearing this, mostly since she was rather amazed at both how calm and how shaken her brother seemed to be over such a serious matter like this. But even so, the idea of him just suffering in silence like this bothered her immensely. Clearly, he was anything but fine if he was bleeding from his eye, if he was still going into a near panic attack every time he so much as thought about the dream demon who had viciously deceived him, if he was still trying so hard just to keep it all together, even though it seemed like he was about to break at literally any moment. “D-Dipper… we… we have to tell Grunkle Stan about this. O-or get Steven to heal you, or do something to help you-”

“No,” Dipper cut her off, his manner suddenly turning quite cold. “No, we don’t, Mabel! You don’t understand that this is-”

“No, I think I do understand, bro-bro,” Mabel retorted just as harshly. “I understand that you’re still hurt really badly, and that you’re trying to make it all go away with all this sword fighting stuff. But that’s not gonna make you feel better about any of this and you know its not! If you keep training as hard as you are, you’re only gonna end up hurting yourself even more! That’s why you have to stop being so dumb and just let yourself heal already, before things get any worse!”

“Stop? Stop?! Are you kidding me, Mabel?!” Dipper scoffed as he falteringly attempted to pick himself up off the ground. “I can’t stop sword fighting now, not after I’ve learned so much! What would Pearl say if I just gave up and turned my back on literally everything she’s taught me and Connie so far?!”

“Well, what would she say if she found out that you’re still badly hurt?!” Mabel shot back fiercely. “Because that’s exactly what I’m gonna tell her tomorrow before your next training session! Then you’ll have to stop sword fighting because she’ll make you!”

“Whatever,” Dipper crossed his arms, not phased by this attempt at reasoning. “Pearl isn’t gonna make me stop because she already knows about all of this. Well, everything except for the eye-bleeding that is. But either way, she doesn’t care.”

“W-what?”

“She found out pretty much the first time the cut on my shoulder tore up again during training. And you know what she told me? That she was proud of me for fighting through my physical injuries and not letting them hold me back, because that’s what a real soldier does.”

“Oh for crying out loud!” Mabel practically shouted in frustration as she rose to stand herself. “Dipper, you’re not a soldier! You’re my brother! And its time you started acting like you were instead of spending all your time swinging a stupid old sword around!”

“It’s not stupid!” Dipper protested crossly as he ripped his sword out of the target he had left it in. “It’s really important! For all you know, me learning how to sword fight could end up saving both our lives someday!”

“Or it could end up with you in the hospital, which is where you should have gone after you got your body back instead of you being stubborn just like you always are!” Mabel shouted, her hands curled into tight fists at her sides. “Just admit it already! You’re pushing yourself way too hard and you need to step back from all of this and chill for a change instead of breaking the promise you made to me and going way overboard, because that’s exactly what you’re doing!”

“Ugh, that dumb promise doesn’t matter anymore!” Dipper countered, every bit as incensed as his sister was as he firmly remembered everything Pearl had taught him about what his resolve should be. “What matters is that I can protect you now! I can protect all of us! I could keep something like what happened with Bill from ever happening again! Who knows? M-maybe I could even use everything I’ve learned to finally save Lapis somehow!”

“Oh, yeah, because I can so see you standing up to huge, crazy-mad Malachite with nothing but some dinky little sword to protect you,” Mabel scoffed, letting her severe aggravation with her brother speak for her. “Cause that’ll work just great and you totally would end up being smashed to an angry little pulp.”

For a moment, Dipper was perfectly silent at such a remark, far too enraged to even think of anything to say in response to such callous teasing. But when he did speak again, his voice was quiet and bitter enough to make Mabel stiffen at just how upset he clearly was. “I thought you said you were with me on this.”

“I-I… I was…” her teasing manner completely dissipated into guilt as she remembered just where her opposing him had lead last time. But even so, she couldn’t allow herself to be controlled by her guilt; not this time. “I was with you on this, Dipper. Until you started acting all crazy and obsessive over it!”

“I’m not crazy or obsessed!” Dipper argued petulantly. “You just don’t get it, do you? You think that all this is about me trying to distract myself or prove myself or something, but it’s not. You heard what Pearl taught us just as much as I did: that there’s only one thing I’m supposed to be fighting for and that thing is standing right in front of me! Don’t you see, Mabel? I’m doing all of this for you!”

“Are you, Dipper?” Mabel asked, glaring at him almost piercingly as she asked the very last question he had wanted to hear. “Or are you doing this for you?!”

Dipper was quick to look away from Mabel upon hearing this, almost as if this accusation had wounded him, and in a sense, it had. Because there was no way he could possibly tell her the truth. That she was right, that a very large part of his sword training motivation was centered around his own feelings rather than hers. That it was the only thing he really had to cling to now in the aftermath of nearly losing everything, including his own body, that made him truly feel like he had some semblance of control again. That it made him feel empowered and confident in ways he hadn’t felt since that hand ship had first appeared in the skies above Gravity Falls. That it washed away the despair, emptiness, helplessness he had been miserably drowning in for weeks now. That it chased away the nightmares filled with massive hostile fusions and sadistic dream demons and instead gave him something to believe in again, something to hope for again, something to fight for again. Something that he refused to give up, no matter how much Mabel wanted him to.

Still, that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to try.

“Dipper… y-you… you can’t keep doing this to yourself…” she implored, her anger gone and replaced with sincere worry as her voice went soft. “I-I won’t let you…”

“Oh yeah?” Dipper asked, his tone surprisingly not challenging but morose and exhausted instead. “And why not?”

“B-because…” Mabel began, taking in a deep, resolved breath as she slowly pulled a piece of crumpled up paper out, looking to it guiltily as she smoothed it out and handed it over to him and hoping that it would somehow work. “Because of this…”

Dipper frowned in confusion as he took the page, initially having a hard time making out the messy script in the low lighting. “What is…” he trailed off as he finally made out exactly what the note said, his breath catching in a soft, terrified gasp as he silently read every horrific word the dream demon had wrote while inhabiting his body.

“Note to self: possessing people is hilarious!” the note began and Dipper could almost hear Bill’s sadistically cheerful voice peak through every word he read. “To think of all the sensations I’ve been missing out on—burning, stabbing, drowning, bone-breaking; it’s like a buffet tray of fun! But the funniest part’s gotta be the horrified look on Rosebud’s face every time I so much as land a bruise I land on Pine Tree! The kid was so easy to blackmail into staying quiet about all this that I barely even had to lift a finger! I can’t wait to see how much he’ll freak out after I destroy that journal and give this body its grand finale by throwing it off the water tower! Best of all, people will just think Pine Tree lost his mind while his mental form wanders in the mindscape forever! Want to join him, Shooting Star?”

Mabel apprehensively bit her lip as she watched Dipper finish reading the note, his expression largely unreadable as it all soaked in for him. For a moment, she briefly regretted showing that dreaded letter to him at all, but she knew that she couldn’t have kept it hidden from him forever. After all, the truth would have eventually found its way through somehow, just like it always seemed to do. “I-I found that on the floor of Stan’s car when we were on our way back from the puppet show…” she spoke up quietly, averting his gaze out of shame. “I didn’t want to show it to you at first because you were just… so miserable and so beaten up over everything that happened that I didn’t want it to make things any worse than they already were. But… y-you deserve to know just how close things were to getting really, really bad. Dipper… Bill, h-he… he was gonna… he was going to kill you if he had gotten that journal… And that’s why you can’t keep this sword fighting thing up. Y-you almost died because of me before… I don’t know what I’d do I-if you actually did…”

Despite the fact that Mabel was finally starting to tear up, Dipper’s expression remained mostly neutral and cold as he looked between her and the crinkled page in his hands, almost as if he didn’t know how to react to any of it. There was no denying that every word of the letter Bill had wrote chilled him to the bone, but he was tired of letting that blind terror show on the surface, tired of letting his fear rule him and tired of arguing with himself over whether or not the path he had chosen to take was the right one. But even if he wasn’t taking the right path, there was no turning back from it now. “Mabel, did you read this?” he asked almost rhetorically.

“Of course, I did…” Mabel frowned in confusion. “I’ve read it a bunch of times since I found it. Why?”

“No, I mean did you read this?” Dipper asked again, his tone a bit more serious as he held the letter up and pointed to its ominous final line: “Want to join him, Shooting Star?”

“Y-yeah…” Mabel nodded, anxiously rubbing her arms as she thought of the implications of such a dark question.

“You know what this says to me?” Dipper scowled as he looked to the note again. “It says that when Bill was finished with me, he was going to try to do the same thing to you. And if he had then I-I… I wouldn’t have… There would have been n-nothing I could have done to…” He sighed sharply, forcing his building emotions away as he roughly balled the note up and tossed it down to the ground before reclaiming his sword. “I wouldn’t have been able to do anything to stop it. And that’s exactly why I have to do this. For you.”

“B-but… but Dipper, you can’t-”

“We’re done talking about this, Mabel,” Dipper staunchly interrupted as he began practicing right here he had left off, by thoughtlessly slashing away at his target once more. “Go inside.”

“Please, Dipper,” Mabel attempted once more, to the point that she was practically pleading with him. “This needs to stop. You have to ease up or get some help, or something-”

“I said,” Dipper cut her off once more, his expression harsh and unforgiving as he rammed his blade into the side of his target brutally. “We’re done!”

Mabel flinched, both out of fear and disappointment as she realized that her earnest, desperate appeals had failed to derail him completely. Because even though he was clearly still hurting so much, inside and out, he wasn’t going to stop this dangerous pursuit, he wasn’t going to give himself the chance to heal that he really needed, he wasn’t going to get better, not like this. And as much as she might try to convince him to give this up and find a different way, he clearly had no intentions of listening to any such reasoning. He was just going to keep throwing himself into his training, sparing thoughts for nothing else as he tried to distract himself from his own pain and failures in ways that simply wouldn’t work in the long run. And really, there was nothing she could do to stop that.

And so, knowing that she wasn’t going to get anywhere on her own, Mabel simply sighed dejectedly as she turned and began to slowly retreat back towards the shack. Still, she did spare one finally glace over her shoulder at Dipper, her heart sinking as she realized that the distance between them suddenly felt far greater than just a few mere feet.

“W-wait… really?!” Steven asked in alarm as he glanced up from the book he had been reading: How To Talk To People. He had already been quite anxious about confronting Connie and Dipper even as early as the previous night, but now, the next day, as Mabel relayed to him everything that had happened just a few hours ago, his worry increased tenfold. “H-he… he was bleeding… from his eye?!”

“Yeah,” Mabel nodded gravely as she paced around the temple den. “He said it was some ‘side effect’ of Bill possessing him and that’ll stop in a few days, but who cares?! Dipper’s still really hurt and the last thing he needs is to be pushing himself so hard with all this training! But he basically just told me that he’s not gonna stop it, no matter how hard I try to convince him too! And I have a feeling that Connie will be the exact same way, all because Pearl keeps drilling those crazy ideas about how they have to give up everything to protect us into their heads!”

“W-well… we still have to try!” Steven exclaimed, though his resolve was rather shaky. “This has gotten really serious and really bad, and if something doesn’t change soon, then they’ll-”

“Hey, Steven! Hey, Mabel!” Connie greeted warmly as she entered the house, dressed and ready to train for the day. Dipper entered much more sullenly behind her, only briefly making eye contact with Mabel before bitterly glancing away, showing that he was still rather sour over what had transpired between them the previous night. But even so, Steven and Mabel exchanged a anxious glance as Dipper and Connie headed over towards the warp pad, knowing that their chance was either now or never.

“Connie! Dipper! Wait up!” Steven exclaimed, hopping up from his seat as him and Mabel hurried after them. “W-we need to talk to you guys for a second?”

“Sure, what’s up?” Connie asked, turning towards them curiously.

“Hold up, Connie,” Dipper cut in much more skeptically as he looked between the pair. “This isn’t about what I think its about… is it, Mabel?”

“I-I… I don’t-” Mabel’s nervous buffering was suddenly interrupted as the temple gate slid open, cutting right through the conversation. Pearl stepped out with a broad, relaxed smile, her hands held behind her back as she addressed her two pupils before her.

“Ah! You’re both right on time, as usual,” she remarked, already stepping up onto the warp pad. “Dipper, Connie, come along. We have a lot of important training to do.”

The pair both staunchly nodded as they joined her on the pad, however, before they could departed, Steven and Mabel made one final attempt at trying to break through to them. “Pearl, wait, we need to-” the young Gem tried, but before he could get any further the white Gem interjected again.

“Oh, don’t worry, you two,” Pearl said with presumptuous confidence. “You don’t need to apologize for yesterday. Still, I’m glad to see that you both realized your concerns were completely unfounded. Dipper and Connie are making great strides; they’re going to assets to you, Steven. O-oh, and you too, Mabel.”

Before either of them could say another word, the white Gem activated the warp pad, whisking her two passionate students away with her and leaving Steven and Mabel behind in their shared worry. Both of them shared a sad sigh as they sat against the warp pad, wanting to follow after the trio but knowing that doing so would only be futile in the end. “What are we gonna do?” Mabel asked morosely, though before Steven could try to supply an answer, the temple gate opened once again.

“Ha! Wow, Garnet!” Amethyst let out a hearty laugh as she emerged from her room, Garnet exiting right after with a wry smirk on her face. “That was the funniest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Garnet: master of comedy,” the Gem leader joked, a hint of amusement in her otherwise deadpan tone. The pair of Gems stopped short however as they made it to the warp pad and noticed the downtrodden pair propped up against it.

“Yo, Steven, Mabel,” Amethyst greeted, casually at first before her manner turned playfully fierce. “Why are you two sitting there all sad like that?!”

“W-well…” Steven began tentatively, though him and Mabel silently and simultaneously agreed that there was really no harm in voicing their concerns to Garnet and Amethyst. If anything, perhaps there was a chance they could led their aid, or at the very least, their advice in this dire matter. “Connie and Dipper have been taking sword fighting lessons from Pearl, but its starting to get way too serious. She wants them to do all of this dangerous stuff for us, a-and when we tried to talk to her about it, she wouldn’t listen!”

“Yeah, and she’s totally ok with letting Dipper train, even though he’s still hurt from what happened the other week!” Mabel added just as intently, not noticing as Garnet and Amethyst exchanged a concerned, yet knowing glance.

“That makes sense,” the Gem leader spoke up, adjusting her shades.

“W-what do you mean?” Steven asked, confused.

Garnet let out a small sigh as she sat down on the edge of the warp pad, her tone still quite even as she began to explain. “Back during the war, Pearl took pride in risking her destruction for Rose Quartz. She put her over everything; over logic, over consequence, even her own life. Nothing else mattered to her as long as she was able to protect Rose. And because of that resolve, she nearly met her end countless times, with each sacrifice being more agonizing for her than the last.”

As Garnet detailed this alarming news, the only thing either Steven or Mabel could imagine was exactly what Pearl had shown all of them a few days ago: the holographic depiction of that fierce, fiery battle. Over and over, they pictured the white Gem boldly throwing herself in front of Rose, her sword at the ready to defend, only for her body to take each brutal blow instead. No matter how many times she came back, each one would result in her retreating into her Gem in defeat, all as Rose watched on with an immense amount of concern for Pearl’s complete lack of self-regard. However, as the last repetition of self-sacrifice played out, the white Gem was suddenly replaced with both Dipper and Connie, both of whom leapt forward, swords brandished to protect Mabel and Steven before their frightening imagination starkly cut out. But even so it was effective enough to do more than just shake the pair up with newfound terror as their worst fears were confirmed. Pearl wasn’t just teaching Dipper and Connie how to sword fight.

She was teaching them how to die.

“Uh… are you guys ok?” Amethyst asked upon noticing the unified look of paled shock on Steven and Mabel’s faces.

“W-we… have to go do something!” Steven exclaimed stiffly, rushing to pull Mabel up onto the warp pad along with him. “Thanks for telling us all that, bye!” he quickly shouted to Amethyst and Garnet before the pair warped away, both of them very mindful of their shared mission, one that could have very real, very deadly repercussions if they failed at it again.

Upon arriving to the sky arena, Steven and Mabel wasted no time, knowing that there was none to waste in the first place. Both of them knew that they had to stop these perilous sword fighting lessons, and even though neither of them were exactly how they were going to do that, they were still resolved to do whatever they could. Before what were only mere lessons turned into two cases of actual martyrdom.

As they reached the entrance of the arena, the pair stopped short, freezing in apt fear as they overheard Pearl impart yet another depreciating lesson to her pupils. “Connie, Dipper, remember,” she began pointedly as her students listened intently. “In the heat of battle, Steven and Mabel are what matter. You don’t matter.”

“We don’t matter,” Connie and Dipper repeated in dutiful unison, both of them firmly believing exactly that. Needless to say that Steven and Mabel’s alarm spiked high as they heard this however, which is why they both rushed forward down the long flight of stairs towards the center of the arena.

“Good,” Pearl nodded in approval before she spread her arms out wide, her gem glowing as she did. “Now… let us begin!” All at once, a mass of thick, fluffy white clouds converged upon the arena from above, swirling and coalescing together to create a seemingly endless sea of incredibly dense fog, a sea that Steven and Mabel found themselves adrift in as they began their search for Dipper and Connie. Even though they were obscured from view, the pair could hear the clatter of them fiercely combatting what they assumed to be holo-Pearls somewhere in the distance, if their sword strikes and loud battle cries were anything to go off of. Just another reminder that they needed to put an end to such dangerous happenings as quickly as possible.

“Connie! Dipper! Where are you guys?!” Steven called out amidst the din of the ongoing battle as him and Mabel stumbled around in the heavy veil of fog. The two of them essentially had to stay standing right next to each other as not to get separated amidst all of the clouds, but even so, they didn’t stop frantically searching for Dipper and Connie, even as the sounds of ongoing battle drew closer.

“Dipper!” Mabel shouted as loud as she could, her heart racing in her chest as she remembered their argument last night. “Connie! Could you guys maybe, y-you know, stop sword fighting so we could talk to you two?! Just for a sec?”

Steven was about to make another attempt at calling out to the pair, but before he could, a holo-Pearl happened to step out of the fog just a few feet away, a sharp blade held firmly in its grasp. And it wasn’t the only one; three other holograms followed suit, all of them surrounding Steven and Mabel with their rigid stances, blank, empty eyes, and deadly weapons held aloft. “Uh, h-hi, everyone…” the young Gem greeted nervously as him and Mabel attempted to back up, only to end up backing into each other, leaving them with nowhere to really go. “Y-you guys wouldn’t have happened to see Connie or Dipper… h-have you?”

None of the holo-Pearls responded, but instead, their eyes all simultaneously turned angry red as they encroached closer upon the two frightened, unarmed kids, their swords raised high in preparation for a deadly coordinated attack. “Unregistered combatants detected!” the holograms all declared in unison, though before any of them could strike, the first of them to appear was abruptly impaled by another blade from behind. As the first holo-Pearl disappeared, two of the other ones were swiftly taken down by fast, successive strikes, leaving only one left to try and bring its blade down on Steven and Connie. Its attempt was instantly halted however by Connie, who was quick to wedge her sword in its path and push it away before skillfully before cutting it down without missing a beat.

“Connie!” Steven cried in relief, though it was clear her attention was still elsewhere.

“You ok over there, Dipper?” she called over to her fellow student, who had just finished kicking away the two fallen sabers of the holo-Pearls he had taken out.

“I would be,” he remarked crossly, glaring over at Steven and Mabel. “If somebody would just stay out of this already and let us train already!”

“But Dipper-” Mabel ventured, though Connie accidently ended up cutting her off.

“Steven, Mabel, what are you guys doing out here?” she asked, raising a confused eyebrow.

“C-Connie!” Steven exclaimed, his tone earnest and almost pleading as he made his appeal. “I… I tried to tell you this on the phone last night, but even if you had heard me, what I wanted to say wasn’t… really what I wanted to say.”

“Then… what did you want to say?” Connie asked, still not following at all.

“I-I wanted to say… I don’t want you to do this anymore!” Steven finally professed, being completely open about it this time. “Either of you! At least not alone! You guys might think that you have to be ready to fight for us, but you don’t. We can all fight for each other, just like we’ve always done before!”

“Ugh, seriously? You too, Steven?!” Dipper groaned in angry exasperation. “How do you guys still not get it yet!? The only reason we’re learning how to fight in the first place is so we can keep you two safe!”

“Dipper’s right,” Connie nodded in agreement, though her manner was much less vitriolic and much more inspired. “Steven, I understand now! Your legacy, your destiny, you are everything! And I… I am nothing. But I can do this for you! I can give you my service! We both can!”

“No!” Steven shook his head adamantly. “I don’t want you too!”

“A-and neither do I!” Mabel interjected just as desperately.

“It doesn’t matter what you guys want,” Dipper concluded harshly, his grip on his sword tightening. “What matters is that this is what you guys need! Like I told you last night, Mabel, we’re doing this for you!”

At that very moment, Dipper lashed out with his blade, spinning around and cleanly impaling the holo-Pearl that had attempted a sneak attack on the group. At the same time, Connie raised her guard once again, holding her sword out in a defensive stance as she looked for any further openings as the heated argument continued. “We need to be able to protect you!” she chastised, glaring over her shoulder at the pair.

“But if you’re the ones protecting us…” Steven began, stifling a gasp as he watched several more holo-Pearls emerge from the fog in all the places that neither Dipper and Connie were covering. “Then who’s going to protect you?!”

Just as the holo-Pearls leapt high to descend upon the group, Steven’s shield suddenly materialized squarely over his arm, large and glistening as it sheltered all four of them from the attacking blades. However, they weren’t entirely in the clear as another holo-Pearl started charging for them, its weapon already poised. Dipper prepared to go take it down, but Mabel ended up beating him to the punch with one click of her grappling hook, which latched onto the sword and pulled it away from the hologram, effectively defeating it. Needless to say that both Connie and Dipper were in shock over how they had just been defended by their own two lieges, but even so, Mabel and Steven turned back to them with broad, reassuring smiles, hoping that the intended message came through.

“We’re already been up against some really bad guys this summer,” Steven began, the confidence in his tone renewed. “And we’re bound to go up against plenty more. And when that day comes, all four of us should fight together, like the great team we are!”

“Yeah! None of us have to do any of this by ourselves!” Mabel added just as firmly. “We’re all pretty great on our own, but we’re only really amazing when we work together and help each other out! I mean, people don’t call us the Mystery Kids for nothing!”

“Exactly,” Steven finished, extending his hand out to Connie with a warm smile as Mabel did to the same for Dipper. “So please… won’t you share this jam with us?”

For a moment, Connie hesitated as she stared at Steven’s outstretched hand, her brow furrowing as she thought about how this was against nearly everything Pearl had taught her and Dipper. The white Gem instructed them that they needed to be able to stand on their own, to rely solely on their own abilities and wit and succeed completely on their own terms. Teamwork had no part in that equation whatsoever. And yet now… here was Steven and Mabel, the very “lieges” they were supposed to stand to risk life and limb to protect, proposing that they all fight on equal ground as a harmonious unit instead of mere disjointed pieces. It was an idea that, to Connie at least, suddenly seemed quite appealing, especially as she realized just how much she had come to miss feeling the close knit bond between all three of them lately. True, there was honor in fighting one’s own battles, but perhaps, Connie thought, there was even more honor in standing with friends in a courageous band of love and protection. Which was why, as even more holo-Pearls began to beset them all, Connie smiled as she finally took Steven’s hand, knowing at that moment that her choice was the right one.

The second the holo-Pearls pounced, Steven’s shield was there again to block the otherwise fatal blows. As the swords clashed down upon it, Mabel shot her grappling hook out while Connie swung her sword, both of them making easy work of the holograms and clearing the area once more. “Whoa, you guys were right!” Connie exclaimed with an amazed smile. “This is much easier!”

“That’s the idea. No matter what comes, we can do this together!” Steven smirked, more than relieved to see that Connie had finally decided to see reason. However, this still wasn’t over yet.

“Well, bro-bro?” Mabel asked with anticipation as she held her hand out to Dipper again, even though his back was turned to her. “You’re the only one who’s not in on this jam session yet. Care to join?”

“No,” Dipper said rigidly, his shoulders tensing as he gripped his sword tighter.

“W-what?” Steven frowned, taken aback by this unexpected refusal. “But… but why not?”

“Because,” Dipper began sharply, an almost livid scowl on his face as he turned around to face them. “I don’t need anybody’s help! I know how to fight now, which means I can take on any threat that comes along on my own!”

“But Dipper, you don’t have to fight on your own!” Mabel urged intently, wanting to say more, but Dipper quickly cut her off.

“Yes, I do, Mabel! Because if I don’t, then it’ll be just like-” He abruptly cut himself off, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment as he glared down bitterly, unable to even bare to talk about it out loud, lest he break down entirely.

“J-just like what?” Connie asked with apt concern, though when Dipper said nothing, Mabel stepped in once more.

“Dipper, what will it be like?” she asked, her voice soft as she reached out a hand to touch his shoulder, though he coldly pushed it away.

“Just forget it,” he muttered despondently. “It doesn’t even matter anyway…”

“Yes, it does!” Steven countered earnestly. “It matters because its how you feel, Dipper! Why are you trying to act like that’s not important when it really is, not just to you, but to all of us?!”

Dipper faltered at this, knowing that such support from all sides had been the last thing he had been expecting at such a juncture. And while the logical part of his mind was fighting to keep up his indifference, to maintain his silence and stay just as closed off as he had been for the past several weeks, his emotions quickly started to override that logic entirely. After all, for so long he had been so worried about what others might feel if they knew the truth about his struggle; perhaps it was time to consider how he was feeling for a change. “I-it’ll be just like when… w-when Bill stole my body,” he began quite shakily, gripping his arms tightly as he averted any eye contact. “A-and I had to rely on you guys to get it back for me. I wanted to help you three somehow, so much, but all I could do was float on the sidelines and watch as you guys nearly died because of me. I felt so useless, so helpless, like I might as well have not even existed… I-I hated that feeling! I never want to feel like that ever again! And that’s why I have to do this on my own! So I’ll never have to go through anything like that again!”

All three of the others were stunned into pitied silence upon hearing this, especially as they noticed Dipper rush to wipe away the distraught tears that were welling up in his eyes. Mabel especially felt as though her heart was breaking as she watched her brother desperately struggle to hold it together, hating the cruel demon who had brought him so low more now more than ever. But as much as she wanted to go after Bill and make him pay for what he did, she knew that now wasn’t the time for that; now was the time to finally give Dipper the help he so clearly needed and deserved. “Oh… Dipper… I-” she began, taking another step closer to him only to notice a familiar shape emerge out of the fog right behind him, a hologram’s blade poised to end him while his back was turned. In an instant, her grappling hook was out yet again, and before Dipper could even question her motives, Mabel fired it, hitting her mark perfectly as the holo-Pearl burst away into nothingness, leaving only its sword to fall and wedge itself squarely into the ground right between the twins. Yet another symbol of everything that was keeping them apart, so it seemed.

“See? There you go, saving me again,” Dipper remarked with a bitter sigh as he finally let his sword fall out of his hand and clatter onto the ground. “I just thought that maybe, just once, I could protect you for a change, Mabel. But I guess it was stupid of me to think that I could do anything like that, just like all of the other stupid choices I’ve been making lately, huh?”

“Dipper, that’s not stupid,” Mabel clarified shaking her head as she stepped past the sword. “It was really brave and really sweet of you, and I really do appreciate the thought. But… you really did go overboard with it, and… I really don’t think any of this helped you the way you thought it would. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you did learn how to fight and it has made you a lot more confident and stuff… but… it’s not gonna fix everything that happened to you…”

“T-then… then what will?” Dipper asked, a hint of desperate pleading in his tone.

“Talking about it might help,” Steven spoke up with a soft, encouraging smile. “Even if it doesn’t fix everything right away, at least it might help you feel a little better.”

Dipper quickly shook his head at this suggestion, but even as he did he could feel the warmth of ongoing tears begin to build up behind his eyes. Tears that he had been holding onto for so long now, to the point that it was starting to become almost impossible to keep them from falling. “I-I… I can’t…”

“Why not?” Connie asked gently.

“Because… t-there’s just… there’s so much…” Dipper sighed, wrapping his arms tighter around himself as his last line of defense against breaking down quickly started to crumble.

“Well if its too much for you, then maybe it might not be for all four of us,” Mabel encouraged warmly, taking her brother’s hands as she offered him all the support and love she could give him. “Remember what I told you, bro-bro: anytime you wanna talk, I’ll be right here, we’ll all be right here, to listen.”

And with that simple offer alone, Dipper found that his final defense finally crumbled. Unable to hold it back any longer, the first of many tears escaped him, a sob coming out along with it as Mabel wrapped her arms around him in a sincere, gentle hug, one that Steven and Connie didn’t hesitate to join in on. For as long as he had been holding all of this pain, heartache, guilt, and despair, he had thought that he had been doing so out of strength, out of his own emotional fortitude because of his shame to let others see just how badly it all hurt him. Yet, now, without even saying a single word, he could feel as though a dark, toxic, unbearable weight was starting to lift off his shoulders, as if his sister and his friends were helping free him of it just by keeping him secure in their warm embrace. And really, no words were needed to communicate how he felt at such a moment; his tears were more than enough to show just how agonized he had been these past several weeks. But even as that agony started to ease up a bit, the tears still didn’t stop because Dipper knew these tears weren’t just for himself; they were for Mabel and how he had spoken to her so harshly last night, even though she had just wanted to help. They were for Steven and Connie, who had put themselves in so much harm to help him when they didn’t have to do such a thing at all, out of the mere kindness of their hearts. They were for Lapis, still trapped at the bottom of the lake, true, but still there, still alive, still able to someday, somehow be saved, even if that day wasn’t anytime soon. And yes, there were for himself too, for the pain he had gone through at the hands of the dream demon, for the guilt he had felt when the blue Gem had slipped away into the lake, for the helplessness he had felt to fix any of it on his own. But perhaps, Dipper finally started to realize, this pain, this guilt, this helplessness, weren’t things he could fix on his own or fight away with a simple sword. They were all things that only time, effort, and the support of friends and family could help heal. And maybe, instead of stubbornly pushing them away, it was time that he started accepting all of the things that had always been right there for him from the very start.

And so, with just the smallest hint of a genuine smile shining through the tears, he did just that.

However, for as welcome as this moment of warm healing was, it wasn’t bound to last, especially as the cloud cover over the arena abruptly disappeared, revealing a very perturbed Pearl in their place. “Steven! Mabel!” she growled hotly, blade in her hand as she stormed up to the kids. Upon seeing her clear rag, their hug dissipated, though Mabel still allowed Dipper to lean against her for support as his tears started to peter out. “Don’t interfere! Dipper and Connie need to take me on them-” The white Gem cut herself off as she noticed the clearly emotionally compromised state of one of her pupils, something that she refused to let stand in light of the nature of their training activity. “Dipper, why are you crying? Have you been injured?”

“N-no, Pearl,” Dipper replied feebly, shaking his head as he started wiping his tears away. “I was just-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Pearl cut him off coldly. “How many times have I told both of you? The battlefield is no place for weakness of any kind! So pull yourself together and get back to fighting! And Steven, Mabel, off the field with both of you, now!”

“No, Pearl!” Mabel staunchly refused, firmly maintain her position of support beside her brother. “We’re not going anywhere!”

“That’s right!” Steven boldly agreed. “The four of us are a team! We’re the strawberry-” he began, nodding to himself and Mabel.

“And we’re the biscuits!” Connie finished as her and Dipper both reclaimed their swords.

“And that makes us-”

“Jam buds!” all four of the kids proclaimed in a rousing battle cry, one that was completely lost on the white Gem as she looked to them in confusion.

“Wha-” she tried to begin, but the kids were quick to charge at her all at once. Pearl was completely taken aback as Connie’s sword clashed with hers, but even so, she maintained some semblance of control as she drew another blade out of her gem to counter Dipper’s. From there, a small, fast-paced skirmish broke out between the three sword fighters, all of them keeping in step with each other as their blades continued colliding in fierce succession. Pearl soon found an opportunity to counter her two rebellious students as they both opened themselves up on a simultaneous strike, but as she went in for the blow, Dipper and Connie both abruptly turned, revealing Steven right behind them. The white Gem gasped as her blade bounced squarely off her young ward’s shield, and she had no time to regather her bearings as Mabel fired her grappling hook off in her direction, its coil wrapping itself around Pearl’s torso and restraining her free hand. As shocked by this surprise attack as she was, the white Gem still glanced over her shoulder at Dipper and Connie, who had wisely repositioned themselves behind her as they bounded for her again, their swords at the ready. Steven and Mabel joined them, rushing at Pearl from the front with their own weapons, but before either sides could reach her, the white Gem finally put a stop to their brazen display by lashing out unexpectedly.

“ENOUGH!” Upon breaking free from the grappling hook’s hold, Pearl swung her sword out wide, not harming any of the kids, but merely knocking them back and disarming them all in one fell swoop. “No!” she growled at the group, glaring at them amidst her heavy breathing. “This isn’t what its going to be like! In a real battle, Steven and Mabel won’t be there to help you!”

“Yes, we will!” Mabel countered firmly, placing a steady hand on Dipper’s shoulder again as they exchanged resolved smiles. “We’re all gonna be there for each other, no matter what!”

“Yeah!” Dipper readily agreed. “Any battle we fight from here on out, we’re going to get through it as a team!”

“But you don’t know that!” Pearl protested lividly.

“Yes, we do!” Steven asserted boldly. “If any of us are going to fight, we’re going to fight together!”

“That’s right!” Connie exclaimed with an affirming smile. “We’re not going to fight alone anymore because we don’t have to!”

“Yes, you do!” Pearl argued, gripping her sword tighter as she glared over to her young ward in particular, assuming that all of these communal sentiments had started with him. “And Steven, you shouldn’t be anywhere near the fight! You’re too important!”

“No, I’m not!” Steven shot back, not even taking the time to be confused about what the white Gem meant by that in the heat of the moment.

“Yes, you are!”

“No!”

“Why won’t you just let me do this for you, Rose?!” Pearl suddenly cried, countless age-old, pent-up emotions getting the better of her as they finally exploded on the surface. The moment the pink Gem’s name left her mouth, she froze, her breath catching in a gasp as tears filled her eyes and a blue blush filled her cheeks. Still, she tried her best to recover as the kids all stared at her in apt surprise, none of them sure of what to say in the aftermath of such a tense moment. “I… I mean… l-let them… do this… W-why won’t—Steven, why won’t you let… Connie do this, a-and… Mabel, let Dipper do this for…” The white Gem finally trailed off, suppressing a feeble sob as her sword fell to the ground with a dull clatter, her shoulders shuddering and her voice empty as she turned away from the kids. “T-that’s… enough for today…”

With a wavering sigh, Pearl walked off, clearly dejected and morose as she went to sit at the edge of the arena and look out over the endless sea of clouds below. The kids exchanged an equally worried glance at this, all of them realizing all at once that the white Gem’s insistence on independence and martyrdom had come from a much deeper place than any of them could have possibly imagined. Still, none of them could really fault her for it; after all, she had only been teaching them in what she had believed, from years and years of past experience, was the right way. Which was why none of them hesitated to head over to her, taking seats on either side of her and noting her expression: heartbroken and closed off as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself, her eyes shut in sorrowful contemplation.

“Hey, uh… Pearl?” Steven began gently, though the white Gem still didn’t open her eyes. “W-we didn’t mean to mess up your training. But… things were starting to go way too far and we were just… really worried.”

“Yeah, I mean… you let Dipper keep training even though you knew he was still all banged up from the other week…” Mabel noted, not angrily, though she still was quite upset over that matter. “We know your heart was in the right place, but even you gotta admit that wasn’t ok…”

“I-it really wasn’t…” Dipper muttered somewhat guiltily, knowing that he was partially responsible for choosing to continue training with his injuries.

“And then there was all that talk about Dipper and Connie being worth ‘nothing’…” Steven continued fretfully. “It was really starting to freak us out…”

“Did… did Rose make you feel like you were nothing?” Connie asked hesitantly, undeniably curious to see how such a train of thought even began.

Pearl finally moved at this, a small, sardonic chuckle escaping her as she finally opened her eyes and looked to the sunset skies, tears still streaming down her cheeks all the while. “Rose m-made me feel… like I was everything…” she sighed wistfully and nostalgically, deep affection filling her every word. “W-when I was with her… it was like the sun never stopped shining, like nothing could ever be wrong in the world… She inspired me to be myself, she gave me a reason to fight, one that I believed in with everything I had… Her kindness, her passion, her love… made me feel like I could face anything that stood in my way… all for her…” As these tender sentiments trailed off, the white Gem began to wipe her tears away, her manner staring to change as she realized that this wouldn’t be what Rose would have wanted. And even though the pink Gem was gone, how could she possibly disrespect her beloved liege’s wishes now, or ever? “What was I thinking…?” Pearl shook her head, laughing once more as she realized just how foolish she had been all this time, especially as she looked to all four of the still very concerned kids. “I can see now how deeply you all care for each other.” She sniffled, her small smile turning into a proud beam as she suddenly threw her arms around all four of the kids’ shoulders. “That’ll make you all great knights!”

“Wait, what?” Steven asked in apt surprise at this welcome change of heart.

“You mean… we get to fight too?” Mabel asked with a growing grin.

“But of course!” Pearl nodded brightly. “You four are a team, after all? And who would I be to split up such a fine group like you up?” Needless to say that the kids all exchanged an excited glance upon hearing this, all of them more than eager to learn to fight together under the white Gem’s wise tutelage. Just as they should have been doing from the very start, but still, it was better late than never. “Now, Connie and Dipper are practically experts already, so Steven, Mabel, you’ll both have a lot of catching up to do. Oh, I’m so excited! I can’t wait for the midair and underwater dueling exercises! It’s going to be oodles of fun!”

Everyone returned from the sky arena that evening in very high spirits, a rare sight after how despondent things had been the past several weeks. Pearl had made sure to set a few stipulations in place regarding her future lessons, namely that they were being cut back from every day to just once a week and that Dipper wasn’t allowed to participate until all of his injuries were thoroughly healed. Which, as eager as he was to train alongside the others, was a process he finally decided to properly expedite along.

“So… a-are you sure you’re ok with this?” Steven asked tentatively, his hand already generously covered in spit as he held it apace from Dipper’s uncovered shoulder and the rather ugly scar marring it. “Because if you’re not, t-then we can always just wait and do it when you’re ready, or-”

“No,” Dipper cut him off firmly, his gaze fixated straight ahead but surprisingly relaxed all the same. “No more putting this off. I should have let you heal me from the beginning, b-but…I guess I thought that I… deserved all this because I made that stupid deal with Bill in the first place and put you guys in so much danger…”

“Oh, Dipper…” Mabel frowned sympathetically, plopping down onto the couch beside him as she took his hand and squeezed it supportively. “You didn’t deserve any of this. And just for the record, not a single bit of what happened was your fault! That’s all on Bill, and between you and me, if we ever see that jerkward of a triangle ever again, then I’ll bash him with my grappling hook so hard that he’ll wish he was a square!”

“Heh, thanks, Mabel,” Dipper remarked with a sincere chuckle, touched by the sentiment, no matter how admittedly silly it was. He flinched however, as Steven gently placed his palm on his shoulder, the healing spit working instantly as what was left of the horrendous cut was easily, seamlessly sealed up without leaving a single trace behind. “W-whoa…” Dipper muttered in slight awe as he moved his shoulder without any pain at all for the first time in weeks. “I can’t believe I held out for this long on the no healing thing; this feels so much better!”

The kids all shared a warm, very welcome laugh at this before Steven moved on to tend to Dipper’s other injuries. Even so, Mabel kept close to her brother while Connie lingered tightly beside the young Gem, all four of them content to just be together in a kind of silence that was genuinely blissful, something that they had been so sorely missing these past several weeks. True, not everything had gone completely back to normal; honestly, they all doubted that things ever could after such brutal intrusions into their lives by entities as malicious as Homeworld Gems and Bill Cipher. And yes, as shaken and scarred as they all still were by everything they had been through, it would certainly take a lot of time and a lot of work before they all managed to fully recover from it, if such a complete recovery was even possible at all. But as painful as the past was and as uncertain as the future seemed, one thing was crystal clear to them all: the healing process had at last begun. And they weren’t going to go through any of it alone.

After all, they had said so themselves: they were a team. Dipper, Mabel, Steven, and Connie: the Mystery Kids. They had staked their claim to fight side by side, not just to Pearl, but to themselves in that arena, and it was a claim they were determined to maintain. Their bond was not one that could be broken so easily, not by any arduous sword training, paranormal monsters, violent Homeworld Gems, or even all-powerful dream demons. It was so much stronger than all of those things combined. And through that bond, all four of the kids knew, without a doubt in any of their minds, that they could be ready to stand against anything in their way as long as they were standing together.

Next: 

[versatilepoetry]

Time After Time After Time. Each Time. Everytime.

It really didn't matter to me even an infinitesimal trifle; if there wasn't the most optimistically Omnipotent of Sun outside my door; to timelessly consecrate every unfinished desire of mine; to the hilt of infinite infinity, It really didn't matter to me even an inconspicuous trifle; if there wasn't the most vivaciously fathomless Sea outside my door; to unbelievably tantalize even the most evanescent cranny of my skin for an infinite more of my destined lifetimes, It really didn't matter to me even an obfuscated trifle; if there weren't the most eternally invincible Mountains outside my door; to compassionately sequester every disastrously shuddering bone of my body; as diabolical hell torrentially rained down on earth, It really didn't matter to me even a cloistered trifle; if there weren't the most enigmatically inebriating Forests outside my door; to perennially perpetuate the fragrance of symbiotic existence in every of my haplessly dying breath, It really didn't matter to me even a fugitive trifle; if there wasn't the most resplendently bountiful Waterfall outside my door; to inexhaustibly reinvigorate my sinfully deteriorating desire to survive, It really didn't matter to me even an ethereal trifle; if there weren't the most sensuously crimson Clouds outside my door; to unabashedly catapult me into the most ebulliently triumphant realms of paradise, It really didn't matter to me even a fleeting trifle; if there wasn't the most unassailably ever-pervading Sky outside my door; to engender me to discover the ultimate horizons of my impoverished existence, It really didn't matter to me even an oblivious trifle; if there wasn't the most mellifluously enchanting Sound outside my door; to unceasingly enshroud every dormitory of my frazzled life with victoriously untamed delight, It really didn't matter to me even a mercurial trifle; if there wasn't the most seductively tranquil Shadow outside my door; to indefatigably cajole me into the wisps of celestially fructifying sleep, It really didn't matter to me even a disappearing trifle; if there wasn't the most bounteously virile Woman outside my door; to tirelessly prompt me to explore every rhapsodically emollient intricacy of my potent manhood, It really didn't matter to me even a forlorn trifle; if there wasn't the most wonderfully vibrant Meadow outside my door; to invite me back into the cradle of my amazingly impeccable and uninhibited childhood, It really didn't matter to me even a transient trifle; if there weren't the most iridescently innocuous Stars outside my door; to unshakably enlighten the complexion of my every drearily asphyxiating and treacherous night, It really didn't matter to me even a dilapidated trifle; if there wasn't the most impregnably Heavenly Moon outside my door; to steer me through every acrimonious hurdle of my life; with the ease of a newly born silken prince, It really didn't matter to me even a fleeting trifle; if there wasn't the most astoundingly ameliorating magicians outside my door; to liberate me of even the most ghastliest of my tribulations; transform the monotonously dull space around me; into paradise divine, It really didn't matter to me even a feckless trifle; if there weren't the most indomitably learned philosophers/saints outside my door; to endlessly soliloquize to me the ideologies of effulgent truth; love and beauty in the chapters of my vividly enthralling life, It really didn't matter to me even a teeny trifle; if there wasn't the most glittering caverns of pure Gold outside my door; to forever ensure that the definitions of maliciously pulverizing poverty stayed an infinite kilometers away from my diminutively robust form, It really didn't matter to me even an indescribable trifle; if there wasn't the most mischievously jubilant flirtation outside my door; to make me feel eternally young and fantastically virile; although I stood on the absolute brink of inevitable death, It really didn't matter to me even an insouciant trifle; if there wasn't the most Omnisciently everlasting breath outside my door; to bestow upon me the prowess to holistically survive for a countless more blessed lifetimes, If only; whenever I did open the door of my passionately throbbing heart; whenever I did open the door of my ecstatically emancipating soul; whenever I did open the door of my euphorically searching eyes; whenever I did open the door of my amiably unfettered dwelling; there was you and none else but you O! Heavenly Beloved to take me in your mesmerizing arms and immortally bond with the beats of my life; again and again and again; time after time after time; each time; everytime.