#and my journal is far away at home. so. shouting into the void it is!

[subtlybrilliant]

People who only get in contact/say they miss you when they need something 😒😒😒

[shearah]

vent post vent post vent post

genuinely unpleasant depression things in here you have been warned

i think im about ready to give up on having friends. it's apparently just not for me.

i can't even count on both hands the number of friends ive lost over the years because im too miserable and depressed and they get sick of my shit.

it's always my fault and i know it is, im needy but distant, im abrasive and whiny and i just always self destruct and push people away

im sick of seeing someone say "hey let's do xyz together" and i consider it a promise and as soon as i see them do it without me i feel like they've lied to me and they never wanted to spend time with me in the first place and im hurt and i cant think of it any other way

im tired of being hurt im tired of being alone im tired of hurting people

i just try to explain why im upset and people get mad at me and i just want it to stop

im just going to stop being friends with people. if nobody cares enough about me to ask if im okay they wont hate me

the solution to feeling so alone is to actually be alone

i dont qualify for any mental health assistance anyway im always too depressed for x service but not fucked up enough for y service im tired of falling through the cracks im tired of being told im 'too lucid to do anything stupid' before i get sent home and try to od - just because im not sobbing uncontrollably and can form full sentences doesnt mean i dont want to end my life. but at the same time wanting to end my life disqualifies me from basically every therapy service i dont have to pay fo because that would make me too much of a high risk case

im on medication. im on two medications for this. and it doesnt help. nothing does. i just wish i could stop existing.

what ive had of therapies so far hasnt helped. cbt doesnt do anything. i cant get dbt to work. councelling is just talking which is what gets me into this mess in the first place.

i havent managed to get journalling to work for me yet... but considering that's just venting like i do to people to make them hate me, maybe shouting my bullshit into the void is the way to go. maybe i'll make another blog for that.

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 3

@pocketramblr (also please let me know if you would like me to stop tagging you on these, I don't want to be annoying. :))

"WAIT!" shouted Nana abruptly, as Izuku was talking to his (weirdo) teacher. "I know who that is! Quick, get ready to turn everything off!"

"Turn what off?" asked En. "We live in a formless mental void. We don't even have electricity."

"The quirk! That's Eraserhead!"

"Oh, yeah," said Yoichi, while everyone else (sans Second and Third) scrambled to grab onto the quirk. "I remember Eight meeting him, now! So, he's a teacher, huh?"

"How do all of you forget the one person who might be capable of one-shotting All for One?" demanded Nana.

"Doesn't his quirk not work on mutations?"

"Stop daydreaming and get over here, Yoichi!"

The quirkspace began to glow faintly, ominously red, and the ghosts pulled hard on the quirk, holding it temporarily out of Izuku's reach.

Then, the red glow abated and they dropped it back into place.

"Well, that was exhausting," said Banjo. "So, we'll have to be constantly ready for that, huh?"

"As long as he's around, yeah," said Nana.

"Why did we just do that, anyway?" asked En.

"So we can continue to masquerade as a normal, non-haunted quirk?"

"We could have just let him think he didn't have a quirk, or that the anxiety-"

"Super anxiety."

"-isn't part of it."

Yoichi gasped, as if scandalized. "You'd want us to lie to Izuku?"

"Okay, seriously, what is up with you and Nine?" asked En.

Despite not having a body, Yoichi began to visibly sweat. "Nothing, nothing at all. I just... think he's neat?"

"If you're going to lie to us, can you not do it with archaeomemes?" asked Nana.

"No, no, actually, I can get behind this," said En. "Would you say Izuku has... vibes?"

Yoichi nodded solemnly.

.

"Young Midoriya!"

Izuku shrieked and jumped back from the sudden sound as All Might suddenly emerged from an otherwise innocuous bush.

Both of them froze, staring at each other.

"Are you..." said All Might, hesitantly, sounding much more like he did in his small form than usual, "alright?"

"I... think so?"

"That's good, then." All Might coughed slightly into his fist. "I was wondering if you had a few minutes."

"Of- of course!" said Izuku, immediately.

"Then allow me to lead the way!"

All Might led him through a door labeled 'staff only' and immediately deflated. "All the staff know about my condition," explained Mr. Yagi.

Izuku nodded. Then a thought occurred to him. "Mr. Yagi?"

"Yes, my boy?"

"Why, um, why don't you teach, um, as Mr. Yagi? Instead of as All Might? Wouldn't it save your time?"

Mr. Yagi stopped and scratched his head. "I hadn't really thought about it before," he admitted. "But part of the reason I took this job, other than wanting to help train the next generation of heroes, of course, is that I want to get people used to the idea that I am going to retire." He tugged on one of his bangs. "Also, ah, I'm not sure if my qualifications to teach are quite up to par without my reputation."

"I'm sure it would be fine! You're the best, after all!"

Mr. Yagi chuckled. "I'm glad you think so," he said. Then he reached behind him and opened a door. "In any case: my office."

"Wow," said Izuku, quietly, stepping in. "All Might's office..." Who knew when he'd get another opportunity like this again? He kept his eyes wide to drink in the details.

The rather sparse details. The office was rather bare. Which made sense, seeing as All Might was a brand-new teacher. It was sort of... disappointing, as thrilling as it was.

Mr. Yagi sat down behind the desk and gestured for Izuku to take one of the other chairs. It had a lot of cushioning. A lot a lot. Izuku sank down into the fluff as Mr. Yagi fiddled with a drawer on his desk. He got the drawer open, and pulled out a notebook. A notebook of the same brand Izuku liked to use, actually.

"Since your experiences with One for All are so different from mine, I thought it might be a good idea to do some research into past holders and take a leaf out of your notebook, as it were." He passed the notebook over to Izuku, who took it with shaking hands and a slightly open mouth.

"I'll treasure it," he declared, voice wobbling.

"Not so much that you don't use it, I hope," said Mr. Yagi. "As it is, it's only an overview. The earlier holders, especially, don't have many records associated with them. Consider it a starting point. I haven't had much time to work on it."

"I can't believe you found the time to write this at all," said Izuku, flipping through the pages. The information was sparse, but each holder had a basic profile, all the way back to the fourth. "I mean, between being a hero, training me, and preparing to be a teacher, I'm stunned nothing fell by the wayside!"

Mr. Yagi proceeded to turn a very interesting color.

"Uh, nothing fell by the wayside, right?"

"Why don't you take a few minutes to skim through. If anything jumps out at you right away, we can talk about it. And then I'll let you go get changed and go home, and we can discuss more later, after you've had more time with it."

"Okay!" said Izuku. He'd start with just the basic profiles. Name, date of birth, date of death, quirk... wait, those ages... "They all died young," he said, softly.

"Hero work is dangerous," said Mr. Yagi, hand going to his side.

"There's something else, isn't there?"

"Not something you need to worry about. I took care of it, years ago." The hand holding his side spasmed slightly.

"... Six years ago?" asked Izuku, aware he was pushing his luck. But this sounded both important and relevant.

There was a long pause. "Yes," said All Might, finally. "A villain with a longevity quirk. He... had a history with the first user."

Izuku got the feeling that was an understatement. It also seemed unlikely that the only application of the villain's quirk was longevity, given what he'd done to All Might. But the subject was clearly making All Might uncomfortable, so he dropped it in favor of burying his nose in the notebook again.

(Social fumbles aside, this was the most secure Izuku had felt for... a while.)

"The sixth user had a smoke quirk?"

"Yes, it seems so. Although it doesn't seem to have been actual smoke, but a biological compound."

"I wonder if that has anything to do with all the steam you release when you deflate. Actually..." he flipped back through the quirk. "I wonder if you're using Float, too, subconsciously, when you jump."

"What?"

"I- I mean," said Izuku, "I noticed, when, um, when I grabbed your ankle and also in videos of you- Your hang time is kind of messed up? You're in the air for longer than you should be, but it isn't, like, consistent? Plus, you can change direction mid-air, which I thought was because you were shooting out blasts of air pressure with your quirk, but with me on your ankle, you definitely didn't do that. There was- there was a forum I was on where some people thought your quirk tapped into magnetic fields, somehow, but that doesn't make any sense, because you'd expect a lot more electronic interference and that similar locations would produce similar results, given the Earth's magnetic field, but they don't. But subconscious, low-level use of a telekinesis-based flying quirk would explain everything. If we take into account what you said about my anxiety after the entrance exam, then that's minor expressions of three out of four of the quirks listed here, not counting the base stockpile and enhancement quirk. Do you think the unknown quirks of the second and third users might have partially manifested for you as well? Have you experienced anything else that's atypical for a strength enhancement quirk?"

Mr. Yagi stared at Izuku.

Oh, no, he'd gone too far.

"Nothing immediately comes to mind, my boy," he said, faintly. "But... magnets? Really?"

"I told you it didn't make any sense."

Mr. Yagi rubbed his chin. "There might be something, but... it's too unclear to say either way. I'll keep an eye out. It's just... a lot to take in. I thought One for All was done surprising me."

"When has it surprised you before?"

"Oh, under the influence of certain mental quirks, you can wind up hallucinating the previous users."

"Hallucinating?"

"Yes. But being under the influence of a mental quirk is always the larger issue, so..."

"Mr. Yagi," said Izuku. "That's really the kind of thing you should let people know about up front."

"I- is it?"

.

The ghosts all stared at Nana.

"Hey, don't blame this on me! None of us explained that kind of stuff before passing One for All on."

"In our defense," said En, half raising a hand, "we were usually dying when we passed it on."

"More importantly," said Hikage, "do you think Ninth is right about the quirks?"

"It would make sense," mused Yoichi. "Although then we'd have to wonder why Blackwhip didn't manifest similarly."

"Is it too much for me to get someone to use my quirk? My extremely awesome quirk, that has no downsides?"

"It is powered almost exclusively by rage."

"No downsides."

"You-"

"No. Downsides."

.

Aizawa passed him an envelope labeled 'quirk counseling' along with the standard schedule and orientation packet he was handing to everyone else. It didn't look like any of his class mates had noticed, though, for which Izuku was grateful. He didn't want to be known as a weirdo who didn't know what his own quirk was.

He heavily suspected he was tapping into Danger Sense, somehow, but he didn't know how, and the fourth user of One for All had lived so long ago there weren't any records of him. Not easily and publicly available. Everything Mr. Yagi had written in his notebook (that Izuku had probably stayed up way too late reading... and texting Mr. Yagi about it... and comparing it to his notes... and texting Mr. Yagi about that... and reviewing old All Might compilations and theory threads... and having Mr. Yagi threaten to call his mom if he didn't go to sleep...) about the fourth user had been retrieved from the journals Mr. Yagi's mentor had passed down, according to one of the source notes in the margin.

(Mr. Yagi had really neat, small handwriting, which Izuku wouldn't have ever expected from his large, dramatic signatures as All Might, and his notes were meticulous and carefully cited. If Izuku didn't know better, he would have thought it belonged to a secretary.)

But despite Izuku's suspicions, he didn't actually know. He didn't know it's range, what it defined as danger, whether or not it 'ranked' dangers, how to distinguish it from normal anxiety, or- Well. Anything, really. And he would really like to.

He opened the envelope quietly. Inside was a handwritten note instructing him to pick one of three schedules for quirk counseling and return it to Aizawa by the end of the day. The other pages were printed, with times and possible locations. Options for both before and after the school day.

Izuku felt his eyes tearing up. This was easily the nicest thing a teacher had ever done for him... Although he was nervous about being alone with Aizawa. Some of his other teachers, when they asked him to stay after class it was... not good.

Nothing bad happened, not like in movies or TV shows or the awareness videos the school had shown sometimes. The teachers didn't hurt him, really, didn't do anything to him, other than talk or yell, mostly, but it still wasn't good.

Maybe he could ask Mr. Yagi or Recovery Girl to sit in... But he already felt bad, taking up so much of their time.

He picked one of the after school schedules. He was already staying late on the other days to work with Mr. Yagi, and if something did go wrong, he wanted to have the night to recover before he had to face Aizawa again in class.

He put it to the side, so he'd remember to give it to Aizawa before he left, then looked over the class schedule. Homeroom, Math, Hero Art History, History, and English in the morning. At least this morning. The history classes alternated with something called Heroics-Applied Science and Hero Law and Ethics. Afternoons, meanwhile, were entirely occupied by Hero Basic Training.

And every class would be taught by a pro hero. He wondered if it would be rude to ask for their autographs...

.

Shouta grunted as Hizashi flopped down onto the couch next to him on the couch in the staff breakroom. "What a morning! I just love seeing all those bright little faces at the beginning of the year. Anyone have a favorite first year yet?"

Shouta kicked Hizashi through his sleeping bag. Sadly, this had no effect on the man.

"I think mine might be the little green guy. He's the only one who was actually paying attention, and you know how rare that is, when everyone is anticipating their first heroics lesson. The rest of us just pale in comparison."

Shouta attempted to kick Hizashi again, this time for an entirely different reason. Midoriya was already All Might's favorite (probably)- he did not need more pull with the staff.

"I know who my least favorite is," said Kan. "Kid's certainly dedicated and competitive, but I wouldn't be surprised if he threatened his middle school teachers into giving him those glowing reviews. His personality needs a lot of work. How did you get Nezu to saddle me with Bakugo, anyway, Eraser?"

"I had nothing to do with it."

"Don't give me that, I was going to have Monoma. At least he's a team player."

"You're being illogical," said Shouta, zipping his sleeping bag closed over his face.

"How about you, Nemuri?" asked Hizashi, cutting off Vlad King vs Eraserhead round five hundred.

"It's hard to choose! They're all so cute and eager! Full of the passion of youth! I think they're all my favorite."

"You always say that..."

The door opened and closed.

"All Might! What about you? Any favorites yet?"

Yagi coughed. "I've only had the one class of third years so far. Don't you think that's rather... premature?"

What an incredible nonanswer.

"How did that first class of yours go, anyway? They didn't sour you to the whole idea of teaching, did they?"

"Not at all! The students were wonderful. The third years are very advanced, aren't they? For some of them, I wouldn't be shocked to see that skill level on an active sidekick."

"What can I say? We start them off right," crowed Hizashi.

"They did seem a little surprised by the scenario, however."

"So was I, t'be honest," said Snipe, who was in charge of the third years.

"Ah, was it no good...?"

"It was fine. Lesson plan was a bit rough around the edges, but you and Nezu'll be goin' over that later. But... quirk traffickin' doesn't quite seem like your thing."

"Ah, well, set-pieces," he said, using the slightly derisive underground slang for large-scale spotlight hero battles, "may be what I'm known for, but before my injury, the majority of my battles and investigations weren't publicized."

"Shield laws?" asked Nemuri.

"Generally, yes, but some of the investigations were tied to others, so we were using the organized crime secrecy laws to keep those under wraps. Simply put, my popularity isn't the only reason I keep the number one spot despite Endeavor having more completed cases than me on paper."

Shouta had known there was more to All Might than 'punchy, over-the-top, eyestrain-causing, bombastic muscle guy,' but part of his stupid, illogical brain was annoyed at Yagi for pummeling that image into imaginary dust, anyway. It seemed like the man's only two flaws were horrible interpersonal skills when not using his public persona, and his vast suite of health issues, the latter of which all heroes who operated long enough picked up.

Oh, and a possible inclination towards bribery.

Made it hard to dislike him, which Shouta wanted to do, because he was loud, flashy, and gave him headaches, literal and metaphorical. He ignored the fact that Hizashi was the same way, and had forcibly become Shouta's best friend. Clearly, there was no connection here.

"By the way, why is young Aizawa completely zipped in like that?"

"Nap time," said Hizashi, solemnly.

.

"Sir?" said Iida, raising his hand.

"Yes, young man?" boomed All Might.

"There are nineteen of us. How are we handling the odd person out?"

"Excellent question! In other exercises, we may handle it differently, but for today, one of you will be working alone! Occasionally, a hero may find themselves isolated when they originally expected help. However, for better balance, I have also arranged it so the odd hero out will be taking part in the last battle, so you'll have more time to strategize!"

But the other team would also have more time to strategize, Izuku noted. He really hoped it wouldn't be him... not that he wanted to force it on any if his classmates! He just didn't want yet another handicap on the first day of training.

All Might walked around with the box of ballots, pausing for each student to take one. He reached Izuku and held the box out to him with a wink. Izuku smiled back, reached in, and grabbed one.

A chill ran up his back and he froze, fingers wrapped tightly around the little ball. Something told him this was definitely the cursed, single-person ballot. Could he let it go? Would it be considered cheating if he picked a new one?

But All Might was already walking away. Every part of his body tense, Izuku turned his hand over and forced his fingers apart.

J.

The tenth character of the Latin alphabet. For the tenth, last, team.

He watched as everyone else started to pair up, and All Might looked at him apologetically.

Izuku approximated a smile. Plus ultra, right?

[strawberrylemonz]

My love! Here's the snippet of the gods au! It's kinda long, be warned, but I'm very happy with this piece. Belive it or not, this chapter will actually be focused on Phil and Kristen, but you'll have to find my ao3 if you wanna read that. ;)

Here you go!

Techno laughs, watching as streaks of light appear in the sky, shimmering beautifully against the night sky. He looks over his shoulder, watching Tommy flip the page of one of his journals from when he was still the general of a desperate army long before Tommy was even thought of. His wings curl closer to him, smouldering while he concentrates. “Hey Tommy.” Techno calls with a soft smirk.

Tommy looks up, meeting his eyes without a word.

“Phil’s gone to see Kristen.” Techno tells him, looking back up to the sky.

“How do you know?” he asks, confusion evident in his tone.

Techno hears some shuffling and a book closing before Tommy joins his side. Techno casts him a sideways glance, something warm in his chest as he looks to the God of Chaos. “They're dancing.” he whispers, nodding up at the sky.

Tommy looks up, and his confusion splits into a bright smile. “I forgot her dress did that to the sky.” he says laughing. Tommy’s fingers subconsciously itch as he grasps the railing he and Techno are leaning against, his feathers ruffling in want and anticipation. The gentle smoulder that had warmed his back turns into a roar as it flares with his excitement. 

Techno watches, amused, as Tommy stares at the sky longingly with flame licking up his neck. He bumps his shoulder into Tommy’s, catching his eye. “Nothing is stopping you from going up there.” Techno tells him, warmth in his gaze.

Tommy looks between Techno and the shining lights, exhilaration lighting up his expression. He casts one more look to Techno before bolting down the stairs, stepping into fresh powder and kicking up snow. Tommy takes a springing jump then shoots himself to the sky with a shout of joy. The wind whistles past his ears as his wings beat to pull him to the light and the stars. Icy cold and flaring heat whirlwind around him the higher he climbs, the sheer speed he’s going at causing his eyes to water. He can barely hear his laughter as he passes through the light, continuing to ascend, enraptured by the sight of the sky and stars and the feeling of home. 

Tommy turns to ride an updraft that’s blasted into his side, his wings catch it smoothly, making him glide in place. Despite the howling wind screaming past his ears Tommy’s never found the skies so quiet. Fire crackles in his ear, sounding like the fireplace in Techno’s house thousands of feet below. The wind reminds him of the several snow storms he’s already endured with Techno, huddled up in half a dozen blankets on the floor while Techno reads otherworld legends aloud to him and the voices, waiting out the blistering cold. His wings have stopped aching while he flies, thanks to Techno, the man had started preening his wings every other day.

Tommy breaks through his thoughts by looking down, finding himself high above the glimmering lights that are casting their beauty down onto the tundra below. Tommy catches a faint sound over the wind, it makes the feathers on his wings puff up as his fire continues to roar, not in fear or apprehension or something the like. He soon realizes it’s Phil and Kristen’s laughter, high above the world, dancing somewhere amongst the stars.

Tommy rolls to face the stars and his breath catches when he realizes just how close the universe is. The stars seem larger, brighter, close enough to touch even if he were to fly just a little closer. The smell of space and the void is far off but it's there, it feels warm and cold just like the wind and his flame. It smells like a home the other gods had told him about, yet he'd never known. He wasn't born amongst the stars, he hadn't woken up in The Universes embrace, he'd never seen the home of the gods. He had been a product of war, risen from the ashes of others' mistakes, and had chosens the side his heart told him to, and decimated. His home was whisked away by the next storm that had blown by that war front. But up here, high above the clouds, above a world that had given him everything and left him with nothing, home feels a bit closer. 

Laughter whispers in his ears, Tommy smiles.

Home doesn't feel so far away.

- K

*Dougies* NOW THIS IS EPIC

[minijenn]

Universe Falls, Chapter 80, Part 3

Alsdkajsldkajdlasd I’m dying, Dimensions is done, I’m dead, I’m Dead MiniJen, my opus is complete and I’m Suffering from feels, enjoy this massive fucking painfest that you are NOT ready for enjoy (read it on ao3 or ff.net pls for formatting purposes) 

Previous: https://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/623372505375277056/universe-falls-chapter-80-part-2

***

Chapter 80, Part 3: Dimensions

EW YLLVLT XUUR, VG OACC IWEOVU SD QGKU WZCT'H PQNG WG VRJPK CAIMTL PPX BUDL'U LTJF QF WG YAXX RWE PGTE CSI BUDL CRR 9 LMA BSWPES XTM QRGT 

The very moment they fell into the Nightmare Realm, Stepper knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he’d been here before. His brief, yet awful time there had been, like most of his memories it seemed, completely locked away from the forefront of his mind. But now, upon getting so much as a single glimpse of the endlessly shifting spacescape that echoed with an unintelligible void of constant noise, it was as though a handful of sparse, somewhat distant recollections filled him as to what happened to him here. Here… in the place where Bill Cipher had cracked his gem, stolen his shield journal, and stripped him of any sense of who he was truly supposed to be. 

As for his gem, it was still pounding substantial pain through his body with every passing moment. He couldn’t suppress an agonized cry as he was tossed forward by the force of the portal closing up behind him, Mabel clinging tightly to one of his lower hands as they were essentially thrown through the weightless expanse around them. Neither of them had any time to gather their bearings, however, as they were both stopped almost immediately upon abruptly crashing into the group that had entered the portal just before them. 

Ford, Stan, and the Gems all reacted in apt alarm, spinning around with their weapons drawn to confront who they initially believed was Bill himself. Only to find the very pair they had been dead set on keeping out of this horrid place to begin with. 

“Stepper!? Mabel!?” Pearl gasped in obvious shock. “W-what are you kids doing here?! We told you to stay home!”

“W-we couldn’t…” Stepper huffed as he moved one of his shaking lower arms to cover up his damaged gem, even though that did little to stem the searing pain originating from it. “We… I-I had to come… I-I have to get my journal back…”

“Yeah, and I’m with Stepper,” Mabel brazenly agreed, tightening her steadying grip on his hand. “No matter what.”

Despite the resounding ache still reverberating throughout his body, Stepper managed to glance down at Mabel to offer her a genuine smile of gratitude, one that she readily returned. An affirmation of their shared resolve to get back what the fusion had lost, even despite the danger they both knew they might face in doing so. 

“N-no, you shouldn’t be here,” Lapis countered anxiously. “We need to get both of you back now.”

“We can’t,” Ford noted with an exasperated sigh. “The machine is set on a timer back in our dimension; it won’t reopen another wormhole home until about 24 hours in our time.”

“24 hours?” Stan asked incredulously. “You mean we’re stuck in this oversaturated wacko world for a whole day?”

“A day in our time, Stanley,” Ford corrected, annoyed. “Time moves differently here, remember?”

“Uh, so are we able to send these two home or nah?” Amethyst asked, pointing a thumb over at Stepper and Mabel. 

“At this point, it doesn’t seem as though we really can…” Pearl mused with a worried frown. 

“G-good, because we wouldn’t go back anyway!” Mabel proclaimed with an air of defiance in her tone. “Right, Stepper?”

Stepper could only nod weakly, his vision blurring as his gemstone unleashed yet another wave of unbearable anguish upon him. The stone flashed brightly, a strangled cry escaping him as he failed to keep himself upright, ultimately prompting Garnet to rush forward to catch him before he could fall into the empty space ahead of him. 

“There’s no time for arguing,” the Gem leader said staunchly as she kept a close, protective hold on Stepper’s trembling body. “They’re here now, which means we have to do our best to protect them. And to get his journal back as quickly as possible.”

A beat of fretful silence passed at this as everyone spared a concerned glance Stepper’s way, his condition seeming to worsen more with each passing second. The color of his gem was a dull, almost gray kind of pink, even as it flashed with a bright, warning white light almost constantly.  His skin was pale between the pink cracks torn across it, his eyes tightly shut against the chilling pain pounding through his veins. Pain that the others knew there was only one way to stop, or at least, a way they hoped would stop it. 

“Did I hear someone was looking for a journal?” An all-too-familiar voice suddenly boomed across the Nightmare Realm, catching the entire group starkly off guard from the very first word. Several of them gripped their weapons tightly, tensely glancing around the surrounding void for any sign of the dream demon they’d come here to confront. Only to find that Bill himself was hovering high above them, far out of anyone’s immediate reach. “Well, it’s your lucky day,” he remarked casually as he reclined coolly in the air. “I recently got my hands on a real page-turner that I might be willing to lend out… for the right price.”

The reaction to Bill’s unexpected, yet largely informal arrival was sharp and immediate on all sides. The Gems lashed out first, Pearl and Amethyst pushing themselves through the gravity-free air with their respective weapons drawn to land a starting attack against the dream demon. Before either of them could even get close, however, Bill swiftly disappeared, only to rematerialize seconds later not too far away from the group still positioned down below. 

“Hey, now! How about we-” Bill protested, only for Ford and Lapis to lash out simultaneously, the former with one of the several blasters he’d brought along and the latter with a series of successive waves of water. Even though Bill evaded these attacks just as easily, Garnet, who had just handed off Stepper’s safekeeping to Stan and Mabel, was next, rushing at him furiously with both of her gauntlets ready to land a devastating strike. Yet even so, Bill easily rebuffed her, sending her flying back toward the other Gems with a mere wave of his hand before he came to calmly hover above the disgruntled group of visitors to his realm. 

“Yeesh, have any of you ever heard of manners before?” he asked with a harsh scoff, his hands on his edges. “You don’t just barge into someone’s house and start throwing hands without a single, solitary hello, do you?”

“We do if it’s your house, chump!” Amethyst yelled, tossing her whip out as Pearl swiftly tossed her forward in another bold offensive. However, Bill managed to catch the end of her whip, carelessly flinging it behind him to send the purple Gem flying before deflecting the spear Pearl had sent his way in retaliation. 

“Boy, you all sure are riled up,” Bill noted with faux innocence. “I wonder what’s got you all so upset that you’d go through all the trouble of coming here to see me personally…?”

“You know exactly why we’re here, Bill!” Ford shouted, his blaster still trained on the dream demon.

“Return Stepper’s shield journal now,” Garnet demanded briskly, both of her gauntleted hands clenched in tight, unyielding fists. “Or else we’ll make you.”

“Ha! Make me?” Bill laughed mockingly, sizing himself down to a much smaller scale as he circled the group mirthfully. “Do any of you really think you stand a chance against me here, on my home turf? C’mon, get real. All you need to do is take one look at your ragtag little group of LOSERS and you’ll see why this whole thing is a very bad idea…” At this, Bill focused on the Gems, all three of whom had their weapons raised on a defensive guard as they eyed their old foe with mutual distrust and disdain. “First we’ve got the Crystal Chumps, who always THINK they save the day, but when they think they do they always find a way… to mess everything UP!” Easily provoked by such a cruel remark, the trio reacted aggressively, swinging their respective weapons in the hopes of landing so much as a single hit on the malicious dream demon, though as usual, he slipped away before they could get the chance. “And Sixer, it’s a no brainer why you’re here,” Bill remarked rather teasingly as he appeared just in front of Ford. The author wasted no time in firing a blast at him, though the dream demon disappeared before it could even come close to touching him. “I always figured you’d come crawling back here sooner or later. Still got some… unfinished business with me, don’t ya?” 

“I certainly do,” Ford remarked immediately, offering the dream demon a relentless glare. “And this time, I’m not about to let you get away with-”

“Yeah, yeah, blah, blah, blah, vengeance, blah, blah, I ruined your life, blah, blah, blah,” Bill mocked callously, only serving to aggravate the author even more. “You’re really starting to sound like a broken record at this point, Fordsy. Speaking of broken… Water Wings! Nice to finally meet ya face to face! Especially since I’ve heard so much about you from poor little Pine Tree.” Bill’s tone was cheery and bright as he glided over to Lapis, who had no qualms about launching another heavy wave of water at him right off the bat. 

“You!” she shouted, furious as she continued trying to pin him down, only for Bill to steer clear of each of her onslaughts. “You’re the one who hurt Dipper and Steven, you… you monster!”

At this, the blue Gem unleashed just about all of her raw fury upon the dream demon, calling upon her aquatic wings to supply her with plenty of water to send a specifically-targeted tidal wave his way. But as usual, even this incredibly powerful attack did little to daunt Bill, who simply dispelled the water completely with a quick, flaming barrier. 

“Monster? Aw, Water Wings, you’re too kind!” Bill quipped brightly, all but ignoring the intense glare Lapis was offering him as he turned his attention to Stan instead. “And wow! Looks like we’re meeting in the flesh for the first time too, Fez! Not that you’re a total stranger, I did go on a casual little romp through your mind a while back. Good times, good times.”

“You… what?” Stan asked, completely lost before he shook his head of this apparent distraction, raising his brass knuckles in preparation for a fight instead. “Whatever, who cares? You heard Shades: give the kids their magic book back and then get lost, freakshow!”

“Ohoho! So quick to the point! That’s what I like about you, Fez,” Bill remarked as nonchalant as ever. “You don’t waste all your time on tears like some people do.” He pointed back to Ford and the Gems, all of whom were on the verge of trying to land another hit on him, though they all ultimately took pause, realizing just how futile that would be. “But while we’re on the topic of useless crybabies…” In an instant, Bill disappeared, only to show up right alongside Mabel, who was in the midst of desperately trying to keep Stepper conscious, an effort that seemed to be all but futile as the fusion struggled to keep himself awake, much less aware of what was going on around him. “Hiya, Shooting Star! How’s Pine Bud doing? Looks like he’s realizing life’s not all it’s CRACKED up to be without his pretty little journal, huh?” Bill joked, catching Mabel off guard completely. For her part, she reacted quickly, throwing herself between the demon and Stepper, determined to protect him from sustaining any further harm. 

“S-stay away from him!” Mabel shouted as brazenly as she could manage, the others all rushing over to offer her some much needed support at a frightening moment like this. 

“Aw, it’s cute how you always try to act like you actually care about Rose Tree when you and I both know you DON’T, Shooting Star,” Bill accused with a twisted chuckle. “None of you do, you pretty much proved that by letting him come back here. But boy, am I glad you did…”

Without any warning, Bill vanished once more, but this time, he didn’t seem to reappear, at least not in anyone’s immediate field of view. Because instead, he showed up right behind them, or rather, behind Stepper, not saying a single word until he had the listless fusion right where he wanted him. “After all, I know you’re all just DYING to see how this whole thing is going to end!” 

The entire group spun around in an instant, freezing up in mutual shock at what had happened far too quick for any of them to even try to stop. Bill had returned to his towering size as he floated over all of them, but by far more alarming than that was what, or rather who he was tightly gripping in his massive hand. Stepper lay largely limp against the secure, unrelenting grip Bill had him in, his gem reverberating with pain that he’d largely gotten much too used to by this point. Pain that didn’t seem like it would ever really go away, no matter how much he desperately wished it would. 

“S-Stepper!” Mabel cried, trying to rush forward to get to him even as Stan pulled her back just in time. 

“Release him immediately!” Pearl shouted fiercely, her spear aimed directly at the dream demon. 

“Haven’t you already hurt them enough?!” Lapis added, just as desperate to keep any further harm from coming to the now-captured fusion. 

“Hurt him? Now what makes you think I’d do that?” Bill asked almost flippantly as he eyed Stepper almost cordially. “Rose Tree and I reached an understanding last time he was here; it was a pretty fair trade, all things considered. I let him leave with his life, and in exchange, he gave me THIS!” 

The shield journal flashed into existence, hovering lightly over the dream demon’s free outstretched hand and haloed in an unsettling golden glow all the while. The moment it appeared, Stepper weakly managed to glance over at it, a ripple of immediate desperation rippling through him at the mere sight of it alone. He could sense it, he could practically feel that book was what he’d been missing, what he’d been longing to get back for what seemed like his entire life, or at least what little he could remember of it. The missing piece of himself that he knew would finally tell him who he was truly meant to be, the key that would finally unlock the mysteries that were Steven and Dipper inside his mind. 

A tight gasp of pain escaped Stepper as he tried reaching for it, his upper arms fortunately free from the heavy grip Bill had around his midsection. As soon as the dream demon noticed him struggling for it, however, he was quick to pull them both even further apart than they already were, widening the gap of distance between them that, as far as Stepper was concerned, felt far too great. “Whoops! Sorry, Pine Bud, but I can’t let you go running off with this and all the precious memories tucked away in it,” Bill remarked, ignoring Stepper’s continued attempts to wriggle out of his hold. “Mostly ‘cause I wanna show you this really neat trick I came up with first! See, I thought reading up on every teeny tiny juicy little tidbit about each of your halves would be a blast; so many embarrassing, hilarious moments to pour over, all your doubts and insecurities and fears laid completely out in an open book. But see, after awhile, just reading about it all started to get sort of… boring. Turns out you were right before, Rose Tree; I already did know everything that’s in your journal. So… I figured instead of reading it, maybe I should just have a little fun with it instead…?”

Neither Stepper nor any of the others knew what Bill meant by this, until he happened to flip the shield journal open and, in a moment so quick no one could even think to try and stop it, he swiftly ripped several successive pages clear out of the book entirely. A shared gasp of horror from the group below was overtaken entirely by a sharp, intense scream of agony from Stepper, a scream that only grew louder and more anguished as Bill suddenly ignited the torn pages in his usual blue fire. For the fusion, it was an unbearable kind of pain, almost as though something had been ripped out of his very soul along with those pages, whatever that something was burnt to an unsalvageable crisp just the same. All memories he’d yet to uncover, yet to reclaim; and now, it was uncertain if he’d ever get the chance to reclaim them, even if he somehow managed to get his journal back at all. 

“Who could have guessed a magical fusion-formed journal would make such good kindling?” Bill quipped, only to narrowly pull the journal away just in time to avoid the spear Pearl had finally thrown at him. 

“How dare you do something like this to him, you… you despicable, awful, wretched-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Bird Brain, keep on squawking,” Bill rolled his eye. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

“W-what happens to Stepper when you tear pages out of his journal like that?” Mabel dared to ask, clinging tightly, tearfully onto Stan’s leg. “Why does it hurt him?”

“Great question, Shooting Star!” Bill exclaimed, pulling another random page out of the shield journal, eliciting yet another anguished cry out of Stepper in the process. “See, at the moment, this book is all that’s left of who Pine Tree and Rosebud are since their empty headed fusion here clearly has no idea. So, whenever one of those pages has a little… accident,” With this, Bill swiftly burned that page completely out of existence, much to Stepper’s and everyone else’s distraught alarm. “That’s like a piece of one of them is being erased clean out of existence. Isn’t that one swell of a discovery? One that poor Pine Bud didn’t have a clue about, otherwise he might’ve thought twice about just forking it over like he did!”

“T-that’s because you tricked him!” Mabel protested with a newfound wave of fury as she pushed herself forward. “You tricked him and lied to him and didn’t give him a choice because you cracked his gem and left him with no other way out! W-why…?” she asked, choking on a tight, yet absolutely livid sob as she glared up at the dream demon hatefully. “Why would you do this to them?! What have they ever done to you?!”

Bill took pause at this, his eye narrowing specifically at Mabel so he could return her scowl much more icily. “I’ll tell you what they did, Shooting Star,” he began, his tone cold and dripping with malice. “They’ve gotten in my way one too many times. And unlike you and your dumb family and even dumber friends, I make it my mission to get rid of anyone who tries to stop me! Which is EXACTLY what I’m gonna do to every trace that’s left of Rosebud and Pine Tree, leaving THIS,” he shook Stepper violently at this, exacerbating just how sore the already battered fusion was even more. “Behind as nothing more than a dull, empty shell of who they used to be!” Despite the fact that Bill was growing red with obvious fury, he strangely cooled down quite quickly to resume his former casual tone. “Unless… one of you has something you’d be willing to trade in exchange for his journal that’s worth even MORE…?”

Bill’s sights settled directly on Ford at this, and in that moment, the author had no doubts in his mind about exactly what the dream demon’s endgame was with this entire scheme. An endgame that he wasn’t about to let him achieve, both for the sake of the boys and for the sake of the very universe as a whole. “O-oh?” Ford asked tensely, lowering his blaster just the slightest bit. “A-and what might that something be…?”

“I’m pretty sure you already know, Sixer…” Bill countered just as knowingly.

Ford did his best not to falter at this, especially as he realized Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl were all offering him the same sort of scrutiny Bill was. At the same time, Mabel, Lapis, and Stan, as out of the loop as they were, all looked to the author in complete confusion, none of them having the faintest idea about the momentous trade Bill was basically forcing Ford to make. 

“Well, Ford?” Stan asked his brother harshly, expectantly. “Give this creep what he wants so he’ll give the boys their book back and we can get the heck out of here and finally put an end to this whole disaster.”

Ford hesitated, not wanting to reveal anything too direct about the rift, even though it was exceedingly clear that was what Bill was after. “I-I… can’t,” he said tightly, shifting a wary glance toward the dream demon. “I didn’t bring it.”

“Of course, you didn’t,” Bill scowled, clearly disgruntled. “Why am I not surprised? Anything to keep it as far away from me as possible, huh, Sixer? Well, that’s A-OK! I’ll get my hands on it sooner or later, and until then, maybe I’ll just keep taking pages out of Rose Tree’s book instead!”

With this, Bill let out a cruel, sadistic laugh as he prepared to yank yet another handful of pages out of the shield journal, which was clearly starting to run low on them by all accounts. And while everyone else continued adamantly throwing their weapons at him in the hopes of somehow prying the journal from his grasp, Mabel found herself distracted by something else instead. Stepper had his sights set directly on her, pain still wracking his expression, yet there was a hint of hardened resolve there too, particularly as he subtly pointed down at the grappling hook in her hands. Mabel frowned in confusion, unsure of what he wanted her to do until he silently nodded over to his shield journal, forcing himself to remain quiet even as Bill carelessly ripped another page out of it. Finally, he pointed back at himself, his intention made clear, a plan that Mabel understood and was more than ready to carry out, especially if there was a chance, however small, that it could put an end to this madness once and for all. 

She made sure to take aim carefully, making sure Bill was thoroughly distracted with brashly taunting the others before she even thought about firing. And when she did, everything seemed to happen all at once, in a moment that passed both far too fast and nowhere near fast enough. 

Mabel’s aim struck true, her grappling hook latching onto the edge of the shield journal from its spot hanging above Bill’s hand. As she yanked her hook back hard, Stepper used every ounce of his waning strength to push his lower arms against Bill’s other hand, catching him off guard enough to finally break his steady grip on him. From the moment he was free, Stepper wasted no time, lunging for his now-freed journal, anxious, fearful, desperate to get his hands on it, to reclaim what was rightfully his. He strangely felt nothing the moment it fell into his grasp, but even so, he gripped it tightly the moment he did, refusing to let it be stolen from him again. Unfortunately for him, however, Bill wasn’t about to let him get away with it so easily either. 

“ROSE TREE!” he snapped, furious as he lashed out, latching onto the book’s back cover with a forceful hold. Even so, Stepper didn’t dare release the journal, even as Bill began pulling both him and the book back up toward him. A burst of raw, righteous anger flooded the fusion at this, over just how much damage this demented demon had done to him, just how much he’d taken from him, just how much he’d lost from it all. Which was why he had absolutely no qualms about lashing out as Bill yanked him upward, throwing his languished body up hard to land a direct, brutal kick right in the center of the demon’s singular eye. Bill reeled back in immediate pain from this, but still his hold on the journal didn’t give, and neither did Stepper’s as he was thrown back. Under that severe amount of stress on both sides, it wasn’t long before the journal, even as magical as it was, ended up giving way entirely. 

And in a sickening, sudden second, the shield journal was brutally ripped apart, clean down the spine, right through its center. 

An electrifying jolt of energy rushed through every single one of Stepper’s senses at this, his mind empty and his breathing completely stilled as he found himself falling away from Bill. From the other half of his shield journal, now torn entirely apart. The chaotic cries of alarm from everyone around him were practically deafened as he tightly hugged onto the half he still had, his gemstone completely engulfed in white as that glow began to spread across the rest of his form. And as he continued to fall through the empty void of the Nightmare Realm, a single, stark memory rang through his mind, through his heart, as clear as a bell. A memory of only half of who he used to be. 

“S-Steven…” he gasped, just shy of falling apart completely. 

The others were all stunned into silence as they watched Stepper split, the very sight of Steven and Dipper finally separated once more enough to shock them all. Both boys floated unconsciously near each other, their forced unfusing taking a heavy toll on them physically. Even so, the Gems wasted no time in rushing forward to catch them, Garnet being the first to retrieve their listless forms and pull them as far away from Bill as possible. Ford made sure to put even more distance between them as he fired a momentous blast at the already quite distracted dream demon, sending him flying with an enraged scream across the vast scape of the Nightmare Realm. Right along with the other half of the shield journal he still somehow possessed. 

In the brief moments of tentative peace that followed, no one wasted any time in checking on both of the boys to ensure that they hadn’t sustained any long-term damage. Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl were all closely gathered around Steven, the Gem leader holding him close as they all reeled from just how miraculous it was that they’d managed to get him back at all. Especially since just a few short hours ago they’d been wondering, fearing that they never truly would. 

“Steven!” Pearl shouted frantically, tightly gripping one of the young Gem’s hands. “Steven, can you hear me!?”

“Yo! Check out his gem!” Amethyst exclaimed with a bright, newfound smile. “It’s totally fixed!”

Sure enough, Steven’s gemstone was in pristine a state as ever, not a single hint of the formal brutal crack torn across it remaining it. His skin was also clear of its remnant pink scars, and his breathing was steady, even if his eyes were still closed as his body tried to recover from what it had just been through. “He’s whole again,” Garnet smiled, tears streaming down her cheeks as her visor disappeared. “That means Rose’s fountain did work on his gem, but its magic was delayed until his mind was healed. And now… it is.”

“S-so… will he-” Pearl was cut off as Steven began to stir in Garnet’s arms, letting out a soft, tired groan as his eyes slowly opened. 

“G-guys…?” he muttered, his vision largely bleary as he looked between the trio. 

“Steven!” all three of the Gems exclaimed in immense, tearful relief. 

“Are you ok, dude?” Amethyst asked, extending out a hand so both her and Pearl could help him properly sit up. “Do you, like… remember who you are again?”

Steven nodded slowly, still largely leaning against Garnet for support. “Yeah… I… I think so?” he replied, confused by the question. 

“Tell us your name, just to be sure,” Garnet said, her tone steady as her visor reappeared. 

“Uh… Steven Universe?” he answered, still trying to make sense of their concern. 

“A-and who were you just a moment ago?” Pearl pressed, fearing his short term memories might be lost. 

Steven paused for a long moment at this, trying his best to focus his scattered thoughts on what had happened and how they’d gotten here, to a place he recognized all too well: the Nightmare Realm. The very same place where Bill had cracked his gem and taken their journal and started a chain of events he couldn’t remember clearly, at least not on his own. “I-I was fused…” he said, a hand pressed against his aching head. “I was fused into Stepper with-”

“Dipper!” Mabel’s distraught cry echoed starkly through the air, startling Steven and the Gems in the process. They all turned to see the frantic scene beside them, where Mabel clung tightly onto her still-listless brother with Stan and Ford and Lapis all staying very close by his side. “I-I don’t understand!” Mabel shook her head, lightly shaking Dipper by the shoulders again, only for his head to dully loll forward instead. “What’s wrong with him!? Why isn’t he waking up?!”

“S-Steven’s fine!” Lapis tightly agreed, briefly sparing the alarmed young Gem a somewhat relieved glance. “So Dipper should be too, r-right?!”

The other Gems all gasped, Steven joining their wide-eyed stares of shock as they all gathered around Dipper as well. The young Gem’s heart sank with worry when he saw him, still completely out of it and unmoving, though that was probably the least concerning thing about his condition. His skin was frighteningly pale, and somehow still marred with the faint pink cracks that had been torn across Stepper’s. And to make matters even worse, his entire body was remarkably cold still, and he barely even seemed to be breathing, barely even seemed to be alive at all. 

“He should be, but…” Ford trailed off, entirely unsure of what to make of his nephew’s comatose condition. 

“C’mon, kid, you can’t quit on us after all this!” Stan urged, taking over where Mabel had left off in trying to physically rouse Dipper into waking up. Tears were clearly starting to well up in the conman’s eyes, tears that Mabel already had in hers and were just starting to find a place in Ford’s. The same mutual dread rising up in all three of them over a thought far too horrific for any of them to bear; the thought that Dipper might already be too far gone for them to save. 

They were all caught off guard, however, as Steven suddenly reached forward, his hand sparkling with telltale healing saliva as he gently placed his palm against Dipper’s cheek. His magic shimmered just as much as it usually did as it settled on his skin, and yet it did absolutely nothing to clear away the cracks covering it, much less awaken him. Steven drew his hand back, his eyes wide with emerging fear as he tried and failed to understand what might have gone wrong, why Dipper wasn’t recovering when he already had, what had led to this awful moment in the first place. 

“D-Dipper…” he whimpered, silently pleading with him to open his eyes, to move, to say something, to show any sign of life, however small. “I-I can’t… y-you have to-”

“Well, well, well, isn’t this an interesting turn of events…?” 

 The entire group jolted in genuine fear as they all turned to see Bill hovering over them once more, fully recovered from the previous attacks launched against him. The Gems were all immediately on high alert, with Ford joining them in forming a defensive line to keep Bill away from all three of the immensely vulnerable kids. Yet even so, the dream demon largely ignored them to keep his focus set on Steven and Dipper instead. “Welcome back to the land of the living, Rosebud!” he greeted the young Gem with a faux friendly wave. “It’s a shame Pine Tree didn’t seem to make the trip back with you. I wonder why that could be…? Something’s missing here, I know it is, but what…? Let me think… Oh! I know!” 

With a simple snap of his fingers, the other half of Stepper’s shield journal appeared hovering above Bill’s hand, still somehow intact despite how violently torn apart from its other half it had been. Steven in particular gasped in awe when he saw it, a sudden flood of memories striking him all at once, though as scattered and faded as they were, far too few of them came together cohesively. 

“I-is that…?” he tried to ask, unable to even finish the question before Bill blithely answered it. 

“Sure is! Its Pine Tree’s half of your fusion’s journal!” he exclaimed, tossing the book up into the air casually. 

“B-but… how?” Pearl asked, incredulously. “Steven and Dipper aren’t fused anymore, how can their journal still exist without Stepper?”

“I’ll tell ya how,” Bill began in clearly rising anger as he continued glaring down at the boys. “SOMEBODY had to mess up the windup to a perfect pitch, the ideal deal. You and Pine Tree just couldn’t just let yourselves die nice and peacefully, huh, Rosebud? You twerps ALWAYS refuse to die! Even when I had you cracked and on the ropes, even when you were both on the verge of being wiped out of existence forever, neither of you EVER know when to quit! Well, FINE! If I can’t get rid of both of you, then at least I can have the pleasure of watching ONE of your miserable lives burn out ONCE AND FOR ALL!” 

“N-no…” Steven gasped, not even needing to think twice about what Bill was planning. Panic surged up in him as he threw himself forward, summoning a shield and tossing it in a last-ditch attempt at trying to stop this, and knowing he couldn’t stop it all the while. “NO!” 

His shield accomplished nothing. None of the others even saw it coming. And it happened so quickly that there was nothing any of them could have done about it if they had. 

In an instant, a mere, momentary second, the other half of the shield journal, Dipper’s half, went completely up in flames. 

“No!” Mabel screamed, hugging Dipper tightly as she watched Bill burn every trace left of who he was. Along with every trace that might have saved him. 

For his part, Dipper remained completely still and silent, the only shift being the cracks in his skin finally fading, his body maintaining its deathlike pallor as all his memories were reduced to nothing more than mere ashes in a matter of seconds. Everyone else’s reactions were immediate, grief and outrage overtaking them all as they lashed out, each of them, from the Gems, to Stan and Ford, to Lapis, rushing forward to launch a full-scale attack against the dreams demon out of sheer fury alone. Acting on the same mournful, maddening impulse, Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl swiftly came together to form Alexandrite, her towering form scaling up to roughly the same size as Bill’s current shape. She threw her first punch just as Bill was finishing discarding the ashes of the journal, letting them scatter aimlessly across the Nightmare Realm before he got to work deflecting the fusion’s assault. At the same time, Lapis flew high, creating watery platforms to give both Stan and Ford a boost as they threw themselves at the demon with mutually furious shouts, any and all regard for their own safety forgotten in light of what they’d just lost. Surprisingly, Bill had no taunting quips to tease them with as this chaotic brawl unfolded, largely since he was beside himself with gleeful, sadistic laughter over the devastation and despair he’d just caused, and over the innocent life he’d just effectively put to an early, empty end. 

As this chaotic brawl unfurled, Mabel continued to cling onto Dipper, awash in perhaps the worst grief she’d ever felt in her life as she poured it out in an endless round of loud, agonized sobs. Between those sobs, she kept whispering heartbroken pleas to her lost brother, begging him to somehow come back to her, to not leave her behind, to stay with her… even though he was already so clearly gone. 

At the same time, Steven also lingered close by the twins, completely shellshocked as he stared down at Dipper and nothing else. His own tears were completely silent as they streamed down his cheeks, his mind numb and racing all at the same time. He almost made another attempt at healing Dipper, until he realized it wouldn’t do any good, it wouldn’t be enough to bring him back. Nothing would… save for the very half of the shield journal that now was no more. 

Steven only barely managed to glance up to see Bill land a heavy blow on Alexandrite, enough to split the livid fusion up and send all three of the Gems flying back. Another swift, violent blast did the same to Stan, Ford, and Lapis, though fortunately the blue Gem managed to erect an aquatic shield to keep any of them from getting badly hurt. By now, it was apparent that Bill’s jovial tune had shifted into annoyance with the ongoing onslaught, and he had a plan in mind to put a succinct stop to it. A plan that was particularly cruel even in the aftermath of what he’d just done. 

Much to everyone’s surprise, Bill disappeared, without making a single remark in edgewise and leaving them all to land their attacks on the now empty space he’d just occupied. As lost to their mutual despair as they were, neither Steven or Mabel noticed him pop up behind them, at least until he suddenly reached right past them both to abruptly grip Dipper by the front of his shirt. The pair screamed, startled and scared as Bill harshly yanked his prone form away from them, pulling his body far out of their reach before either of them could so much as think to try and stop him. 

“Dipper!” Mabel cried, desperate to see her brother, whatever was actually left of him now, finally be safe and out of the dream demon’s malicious range. 

“Put him down, Bill!” Ford shouted, absolutely livid despite the tears still brimming in his eyes. 

“Nah, if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll hang onto Pine Tree for a bit,” Bill remarked, holding Dipper by the back of his vest as he hung loose and limp from his hand. “After all, it’s not like he’ll be waking up anytime soon, so why don’t save you the trouble of figuring out what to do with his cold, empty husk here? After all, I’ve been wanting to take one of my favorite puppets for another go, for old time’s sake.”

A harsh, shared gasp escaped Steven and Mabel alike at this, a whole host of incredibly unpleasant memories filling them both as they realized exactly what Bill intended to do. Mabel reacted first, acting in impulse and panic alone as she lifted her grappling hook with shaking hands, hoping it could somehow manage to pull her brother’s body away from him. Yet before she could even hope to fire it, before any of the others could even try to stop him either, Bill swiftly did the unthinkable. And, with essentially nothing to stop him and no deal needed to grant him access, he easily slipped into Dipper’s lifeless, seemingly empty body, callously taking it over to use as his own again, just as he had once before. 

Suddenly “Dipper” moved, and yet everyone instantly knew it wasn’t him. Because when his eyes opened, they were merely thin black slits against a garish, glowing yellow, every bit as eerily unnatural as the wide, demented, leering grin that split across his face as he beamed down at the horrified group below him. “Ah, now isn’t this nostalgic!” Bill smirked as he looked over his stolen form. “Pine Tree’s every bit as stringy and pathetic as I remember him being. Would’ve thought that him learning how to swing that dinky sword of his around would have gotten him at least a few more muscles, but ah well. Once a wimp, always a wimp, I guess.”

As shocked and distraught by this horrendous turn of events as everyone was, no one really knew what to say or do outside of the silent, shaken tears they were all shedding over the downright sadistic way Bill had found to twist the knife even further into each of their hearts. Mabel practically fell apart at the mere sight of her possessed brother’s body, knowing that if Dipper was actually aware of anything that was happening, he’d hate what Bill was doing to him, just as he hated it so much before. Lapis was the first to actually try to do something about it, however, flying fast to get up to Bill’s level with an infuriated shout. She had a massive, downright deadly swath of water at the ready to attack him, an immediate threat that the dream demon made not a single move to try and block or evade as he simply smiled at the blue Gem, his hands held behind his back as he addressed her evenly. 

“Whatcha gonna do with all that, Water Wings?” he asked coyly as Lapis’ bombardment was brought to a grinding halt mere inches away from his puppet’s face. “Drown me? That’d be fun! I didn’t get to have a taste of that action the last time I took Pine Tree’s body for a ride; stabbing and broken bones, sure, but no drowning! Can you believe it? What’s the fun of playing with a puppet if you don’t get to watch it go limp face-down in a puddle of wa-”

“STOP IT!” Lapis shouted, sobbing heavily as her aquatic attack fell apart completely. “Just STOP it and get out of him and leave him alone! Just…” her wings faltered as she covered her face, unable to bear so much as even looking at “Dipper” like this. “J-just leave him alone… please…”

“Sorry! No can do, Water Wings!” Bill said simply as he allowed himself to drift back away from the blue Gem. “Like I said, I’m hanging onto Pine Tree for a bit. But… I might be willing to let him go early in exchange for a certain little… trinket…” 

The dream demon’s stolen smile widened, his golden sights landing on Ford once again. The author wavered under Bill’s--under his nephew’s--focused stare, and even moreso under the tearful, tense glances the Gems all sent his way. Once again, he’d found himself at an impossible crossroads, in a deadly trap that Bill had so carefully set for them all that had no way out; or at least, no way out that would result in all of them leaving with their lives. “I-I already told you…” Ford said as steadily as he could possibly manage. “I don’t have it.”

“Then get it,” Bill deadpanned, his smile turning into an irritated scowl. “I have all the time in the world to wait for another random rift back to your dimension to open up for you to go grab it. And now,” his icy smirk returned as he perched a patient hand under his puppet’s chin. “So does Pine Tree.”

Ford shuddered, the weight of this disastrous situation falling upon him all at once. He knew well what was at stake here, a fact that Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl all knew just as well as he did as they all looked to him expectantly. Bill had them all exactly where he wanted them, he had perfectly plotted this entire sinister scheme out right from the beginning and was set to see it through all the way to the end. And in the end, he’d given them all a terrible ultimatum: to risk the rift and the very fate of their world itself… or never even have so much as a chance at saving Dipper’s life, however small that chance might be now. A choice that none of them even began to know how to make. 

It was a weighty choice Steven was well aware of too, even if several of the others present weren’t. His eyes were wide as he looked over at Ford and the Gems, inferring that his guardians had somehow found out about the rift too, even if he didn’t know how. Even so, he remembered well just how the author had warned him and Dipper about the rift’s power, about how devastating it could be if Bill ever got his hands on it. And he had no doubt that was exactly what the dream demon was playing at now as he forced them to essentially pick between someone they all cared so much about and the very world they all shared. It was an awful proposition, one that had no real right answer in any regard. One life or many. Both equally as precious, and both equally at risk of annihilation. 

There has to be another way… Steven’s thoughts echoed in his grief-stricken mind, his heart aching as he looked back to Dipper, or “Bipper”, as Mabel had called him once before. There had to be something, anything he could do to stop this, to save Dipper, to save the world. And, as he happened to lift his shirt up a bit to take a peek at the stone on his stomach, he instantly came up with a way to do exactly that. 

“So, Sixer?” Bill asked casually, clearly assured of his victory. “What’ll it be?”

Ford shook his head, his mouth dry and his heart racing as his mind frantically searched for a solution he simply didn’t have, not this time, not to something like this. “I… I don’t-”

“Wait!” Steven’s sudden call startled just about everyone, even catching Bill off guard as he glided forward. “W-wait! Stop, I-I…”

“What is it now, Rosebud?” Bill scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “Can’t you see the grown-ups are bartering here?”

“I think I know something you’d like even more than what Mr. Ford can give you,” Steven said quickly, sternly as he stared the dream demon down. 

“Oh yeah?” Bill perked up in sudden, knowing interest, his gaze already drifting toward the young Gem’s stomach. “And what might that ‘something’ be…?”

“...This,” Steven lifted his shirt up, revealing his newly-healed Gem glistening upon it. 

“Steven, no!” the Gems all shouted in frightened unison. However, Steven himself was the one to stop them from approaching him by erecting a large, pink bubble around himself and Bill alone. 

“S-Steven?” Mabel whispered, her tearful eyes wide with fear as she looked to him in apt alarm. 

“Kid, what are you doing?!” Stan asked just as incredulously. 

For his part, Steven offered none of them any answers, even as a few of them began beating against his bubble in a fervent, desperate attempt at trying to stop the young Gem’s risky plan. “You do want it, right?” Steven asked Bill, his tone and his manner alike unwavering. 

“You know I do, Rosebud,” Bill grinned cordially. “But are you sure you wanna give something that valuable up for poor little Pine Tree here? That’s basically like--wait, no it is trading a priceless gemstone in for a comatose corpse. Doesn’t really seem all that fair when you think about it.”

“It is fair,” Steven insisted firmly. “T-to me. I want him back. I… I need him back.”

“Really? After all the terrible things he said to you?” Bill asked with a small, amused chuckle. “I don’t get you, Rosebud. You always put your neck out for people who don’t care about you.”

“That’s not true!” Steven protested resiliently. “Dipper does care about me! I know he does...” He placed a gentle hand against his heart, remembering the very moment that Dipper had proven just how much he did care. The moment he’d vowed to stay with him, even with a practically fatal crack torn clear across their gem. Even when they were both falling apart at the seems. He’d stayed, he’d cared, he’d refused to let go of him, to hold on to him, no matter what the cost. 

Which was exactly why Steven knew it was his turn to return the favor. To refuse to let go of him, to hang onto whatever was left of Dipper, in the hopes that it could somehow save him after all. 

“Whatever you say, Rosebud,” Bill rolled his eyes dryly. “But fine. Who am I to turn down a good bargain, especially since you’ve made such a generous offer? Besides, I’m sure it’s bound to lift at least a little guilt off your shoulders seeing as how you were basically the one who got Pine Tree into this whole mess by asking him to fuse with you in the first place…”

“Y-yeah…” Steven’s confidence finally faltered at this, remorse welling up in his expression as he admitted the truth to this awful fact. That if he’d never asked, never begged Dipper to form Stepper with him in the first place, then at least he might have found a way to spare his life instead of gravely endangering him, his memories, and everything else in the process. “I know…”

“Oh well, no use in crying over a chopped Pine Tree!” Bill quipped enthusiastically as he extended a hand out to Steven in offering. “So what do you say, Rosebud? Your gem in exchange for his empty shell. Do we have ourselves a deal?”

Steven hesitated, for just a moment as he looked to hand Bill was presenting him with, somehow covered in the dream demon’s telltale blue flames that never seemed to actually burn. At the same time, he could hear the others just outside of his bubble, still pounding against its surface with everything they had in the hopes of keeping this terrible transaction from taking place. 

“Steven, please!” Lapis cried, lashing out against his bubble with successive water whips. “Don’t do this!”

“Yeah, man! Don’t listen to him!” Amethyst added just as desperately as she punched the side of the bubble brutally.

“You can’t trust him, you know that, Steven!” Ford practically pleaded as he floated alongside Pearl, who strangely said nothing amidst her tears, both of her hands tightly pressed against her mouth as she shook her head fearfully. 

“Steven,” Garnet spoke up, her tone tight and rigid to the point that it was practically shaking. “We’ll find another way to help Dipper. Do NOT give Bill your gem.”

Steven finally glanced back at the group at this, wanting to tell them he had to, that there was no other option, that it was either his gem, the world, or Dipper. And that really, between those three things, only two of them actually mattered in the grand scheme of things. But he stopped when he caught sight of Mabel, her face nearly pressed against his bubble, her eyes shining with mournful tears as she wept softly, her attention fully focused on him instead of her possessed brother this time around. 

“S-Steven… please…” she begged him in a tiny, frail whisper, so soft he only barely managed to hear it at all. “I-I… I can’t lose you both…”

He stilled at this, a small, terse breath escaping him as he realized exactly what he was about to do here. Exactly what he was about to give up and exactly what that might cost him. True, he didn’t know what would become of him if his gem was taken from him, but given just how agonizing it had been for him when that gem was cracked, he had a hunch that its absence would likely do him far more harm than good. And even more than that, he still had no idea what Bill planned to do with it when he did get his hands on it, much less why he even wanted it to begin with. Indeed, what he was about to do was an incredible, potentially deadly risk, and Steven knew that, he was prepared for that outcome, no matter what.

And yet he still couldn’t shake that same resounding thought from before:

There has to be another way.

There had to be another way… and as another sudden memory dawned on Steven, the very memory of what had nearly torn his friendship with Dipper apart in the first place at the start of this entire disaster, he knew he’d found that way. He could only hope it’d be enough to keep them both alive in the end. To make sure that Mabel wouldn’t have to go home without them. 

“Yes,” he said unflinchingly as he turned back to Bil. “It’s a deal.”

The shared cry of alarm that rose up from the others was lost on Steven as he reached forward, ready to do whatever he could to set things right and knowing well what might happen if he couldn’t. Yet even so he stayed the course, remaining calm and steady as he took Bill’s outstretched hand and shook it squarely. 

The moment he did, he shut his eyes tightly, digging deep inside himself for a power he knew he had access to, a power he’d never really tried to use intentionally before now. For a split second, he silently pleaded with his gem for it to work before Bill could catch on, and miraculously enough, his gem seemed to hear and heed him just fine. Because in an instant, a connection was made, one that he could feel overtaking both him and Bill alike as their hands remained intertwined, even as he turned their deal completely on its head. 

As he began to embark upon his other way entirely. 

When Steven opened his eyes again a second later, the swirling colors of the Nightmare Realm were gone, replaced with a dense, dark, colorless forest. Each of its trees were dead and decaying, their lofty branches stripped of every single leaf as they creaked amidst the dull, dry breeze sweeping through them. By all accounts, this forest was lifeless and empty, just about the last thing Steven had hoped to see in what he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, to be Dipper’s mindscape. But even so, the fact that his mindscape still existed at all was a reassuring sign in and of itself. A sign that pointed to the possibility that maybe he wasn’t as far gone as Bill had claimed after all. 

“WHAT IN THE--ROSEBUD!” Speaking of the dream demon, his outraged shout echoed through the entire mindscape, rumbling through the trees as Steven spun around to face him. Here, he was back in his usual triangular form, his momentous size scaled down considerably as he glared at the young Gem relentlessly. “What did you DO?!”

Steven flinched but quickly regained his nerve, knowing that he couldn’t back down now that he’d already managed to make it this far. “I-I-”

“SHUT UP!” Bill snapped, his form flashing red in raw fury. “I know what you did! What, did you really think dragging us both into Pine Tree’s empty head here would change anything? Cause it WON’T! You still owe me one gem, Rosebud, so PAY UP!”

“H-hold on,” Steven advised as calmly as he could. “Just… hold on a minute. I-I… I want to make another deal with you.”

“Ha! You really think I’d be dumb enough to let you pull the wool over my eyes TWICE in a row?” Bill scoffed harshly. “Forget it, kid! You ain’t getting squat outta me!”

“B-but you’ll like this deal even more than the other one,” Steven pressed, earnestly and anxiously. “Just hear me out. I-I know Dipper’s still in here somewhere; I can… I can feel it,” he lied, knowing that he couldn’t, at least not clearly. Still, that wasn’t something Bill needed to know about, especially not at a moment like this. “Give me a chance to find him. If I do, if I can bring him back somehow, then you don’t get my gem; and you have to get out of his body and never, ever possess it again.”

“Yeah, alright, whatever, Rosebud,” Bill deadpanned, hardly phased by these terms. “What’s in it for me when you fail? Which you will, by the way, just saying.”

“I-If I can’t find him…” Steven took in a deep breath, knowing he was about to put everything on the line with this lofty contract. And yet if he succeeded, if he really did somehow save Dipper after all, then it would all be worth it. “Then not only can you have my gem. Y-you… you can destroy my memories too, all of them, just like you did with his.”

“Ohohohoh! I like the sound of that!” Bill exclaimed brightly as he circled the young Gem. “I get the rock I’ve been after AND I get to kill two pesky twerps with one stone, while inevitably breaking the hearts and spirits of all your friends and loved ones in the process! Great thinking, Rosebud! I’m in!”

Steven watched as Bill’s outstretched hand lit up in blue fire once more, in offering of another deal he couldn’t quite see the outcome to. Yet as afraid as he admittedly was, he knew he couldn’t let that fear stop him now, not when he knew who was counting on him. He also knew exactly what the cost would be if he did fail, a high penalty that could ultimately snuff out both his and Dipper’s lives in one fell swoop. Yet despite that cost, if there was still a chance, still hope that he could succeed, that they’d both come back alive and well, then that hope alone would be more than enough. 

And so, Steven found himself reaching out to shake Bill’s hand once more.

“Great! Then you better get looking, kid!” Bill exclaimed cheerfully as their handshake came to an end. “Oh, by the way, Rosebud, you should know that this whole thing is basically a fool’s errand since there’s just about NOTHING left of Pine Tree’s consciousness for you to find. So good luck! You’ll need it.”

With that, Bill disappeared in a bright flash, no doubt going to wait in the wings and watch to see what might happen next. Steven seized up in sudden anxiety the moment he was left alone, realizing that he had essentially no leads to speak of when it came to finding Dipper. The woods surrounding him were lonely and dark, without a single trace of anyone else around amidst the inky shadows between the trees. Even so, he pressed forward through them, unsure of exactly where he was going as he began a search that both his and Dipper’s very lives depended on. “Uh… Dipper?!” he called, his own voice echoing back at him through the trees. “A-are you in here? Oh, wait, of course, you’re in here, this is your head, but uh… c-could you maybe come out? I… really need to find you… please…”

Steven trailed off with a small, sad sigh, stopping in the middle of another empty clearing to look around. Once again, a familiar bout of fear filled his mind, though that fear wasn’t for his own potentially grim fate in any way. Instead, it was for the possibility that Bill was right, that there really was no trace left of Dipper to be found, even inside his own mind. Guilt welled up inside of the young Gem’s heart viciously as that thought permeated his mind, the same sort of guilt that had prompted him into essentially gambling his very own life to save Dipper’s. Because if he couldn’t actually find a way to bring him back to himself, then at the very least he deserved to share the same kind of demise. After how he’d put them both in such a horrible position to begin with, it was only fair. 

He was prepared to continue his search when suddenly, a sparse speck of light peeking through the nearby trees caught his attention. As dark as this forest as a whole was, it was a surprising sight to see, which was why Steven curiously, cautiously approached it, only to find that it was something akin to a tiny firefly hovering just a bit above the ground. Even from a distance, Steven could feel a sense of comforting warmth emanating from its glow, and he couldn’t help but smile hopefully as he slowly reached out to gently cup it in his hands. 

“D-Dipper?” he whispered wonderingly. “Is that you…?”

It wasn’t, of course, but Steven soon discovered what this light actually was as his hands carefully touched it. Because in the blink of an eye, the dark forest disappeared, replaced with a sun-drenched, grassy hill as a familiar scene played out before him.

“I’m Steven, by the way. You’ve already met Lion, of course. And this is my friend, Connie.”

“Nice to meet you! Even if it was by accident.”

“I’m Dipper and the girl losing herself inside your, uh… lion’s mane is my sister, Mabel.”

Upon this simple greeting, the boys exchanged another brief, yet kindly smile, the first of many they’d share as their close-knit friendship only grew from there. 

And just like that, it was over. Steven gasped as he found himself back in the shadowy wood, silence echoing around him on all sides once more. He stared at the flickering light before him in amazement as he realized what it was: a memory. A memory of the very day they’d first met back at the beginning of the summer, to be exact. A bright, joyful recollection that filled the young Gem’s heart with hope as another newfound thought struck him. Dipper’s memories weren’t gone after all; sparks of them still remained, however small and dwindling those sparks might be. All Steven had to do was reignite those sparks into a flame bright enough to bring Dipper back, to help him remember who he really was.

And fortunately, he happened to find yet another spark of memory floating just a few feet away. He rushed to it, reaching for it eagerly to find both of them embracing on a mountain in the aftermath of a battle that had never happened. After both of them had figured out how to be strong in the real way together. 

“Dipper! I’m so glad you’re ok! I was starting to think something happened in there!”

“I’m fine, Steven. Well… physically, at least…”

“What happened?”

“I couldn’t do it. You were right; turns out the Multi-Bear didn’t deserve it at all. I beat him and everything, but when it came down to killing him… it didn’t feel right… I guess this really does make me a wimp, huh?”

“Are you kidding? Not at all! I think deciding not to go through with it makes you even braver than if you actually had done it!”

Steven smiled, remembering well how proud he’d been of Dipper at that moment. That pride turned to relief as he received yet another recollection just a bit down the forest’s unformed path. A memory that came from the aftermath of a battle they’d only narrowly managed to win, one of the first few of many decisive victories they’d see over the summer. 

“Well… I’m not gonna lie. Pretty much everything hurts. In fact, I’m pretty sure I probably have a concussion and might need stitches in a few places. But I’m sure it’s nothing Steven and his, uh, healing spit can’t fix, right?”

“Of course, Dipper! I’d be more than happy to heal you up!”

“Ok, ow! Like I said, everything still hurts, Steven! You haven’t healed me yet!”

“Oh, sorry!”

He’d always heal him, anytime he might need it. Even now, when he needed healing most inside his own mind. The next memory he found was a moment he deeply treasured,, a moment of true, earnest understanding between them both, the moment he believed they had gone from mere friends to best friends. 

“It’s like we said… we’re really different. And… maybe that’s a good thing.”

“Steven, holing myself away from everyone just to research stuff and forcing myself to spend all my time alone for it… really isn’t a good thing… If there’s one thing fusing with you taught me, it’s that.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah. I mean, being fused and essentially sharing a mind and body was really weird and uncomfortable and overwhelming, but… I think I finally understand what Garnet meant when she told Maven that fusion turns you into something greater than yourself…”

“I-it really does… It’s like you can feel everything that you’re feeling and everything that the other person is feeling. And when both of you are feeling good, its… it’s incredible. It feels like there’s nothing in the world that could bring you down from that. And…. that’s what I wanted for us, I guess…”

And then… once what had been damaged between them was finally repaired, that’s exactly what both of them got. 

“Well… I do know of a certain fusion who might be able to do an even better job of lending them an extra hand, or two, or four…”

“Oh, Dipper! Do you really mean it?!”

“I do. But only if we’re both on the same page about it this time.”

“Right. Well, I guess we better—whoa!” 

Then they danced, they fused, the harmony between their hearts flowing freely, openly, just as it was really meant to. Just how fusion was supposed to be. 

Tears filled Steven’s eyes as he let the warmth of that memory fall over him, cherishing their fusion, cherishing their friendship and all that it meant to him. The sweetness of that memory stood in stark contrast, however to the next, one that had happened in a moment of uncertain desperation. A moment when something important had been taken, and neither of them knew if they’d actually have a chance at getting it back. 

“Steven, wait. I-I don’t know if I’ll ever get this chance again if… if something goes wrong out there, so…  I just wanted to let you know that I’m so sorry… This whole mess is my fault, and I should have been the only one to suffer the consequences of that stupid deal! But then you got dragged into all of this, even though you had no parts in it at all! Bill’s been making you absolutely miserable all day just because you’re trying to protect me, which is something you shouldn’t even have to worry about in the first place!”

“Why not? Dipper, you’re one of my best friends, of course, I’d want to keep you safe! I wish none of this had ever happened just as much as you do, but I’m glad I was at least there to know about it the moment it happened instead of not knowing how much trouble you’re in at all! And don’t worry; now we have Connie and Mabel to help us! With all of us working together, we’ll have you back in your body in no time, I promise.”

“R-right… Well then… good luck. I’m sure we’ll all be needing it…”

He’d kept his promise to Dipper once. And as far as Steven was concerned, he was determined to do it again now that the stakes were higher than ever before. And, even if he couldn’t actually save himself in the end, at least he hoped he’d find a way to save Dipper. At least he hoped to finally set everything that had gone wrong between them right before it was too late. 

He was in tears in the next memory, awash in guilt that felt all too similar to what he felt now. Guilt over the realization of just how much he’d hurt him, just how much he hated hurting him whenever he did. 

“Dipper, I-I’m so sorry! I finally understand why you were so upset with me and Mabel about what happened yesterday! It’s because we didn’t trust you! B-because I didn’t trust you, a-and that’s why I almost erased your memories back when we were dealing with the society! I thought you couldn’t handle it all but I was wrong! I was only thinking about how bad I felt then, about how scared I was yesterday that I didn’t even t-think about how… about… about anything else! You’re right… I-I… I’m selfish… Just like my mom was…”

“Y-you guys didn’t… I was just… I… I was wrong. About Stan, about the portal, about… well, just about everything. In fact, when it comes to the big things this summer, there’s probably about only a handful of times when I’ve actually been right. And I guess I was just so tired of being wrong about everything all the time that I wanted to blame it on someone other than myself so… maybe I sort of just… pinned it all on you two. Which is something else that’s wrong, when you think about it, because you guys totally don’t deserve that. You did what you thought was right. And… in the end, it turned out for the best. I mean, it brought Great Uncle Ford back to where he belongs, it led to us finding the Gems’ memories—for better or worse—it gave us the answers to so many of the questions we had this summer. So… I’m sorry for holding it all against you guys. What happened yesterday… it changed pretty much everything. But the one thing that it shouldn’t change because of any of it is us.”

They’d found a way to fix what had been broken between them then. But it hadn’t mattered in the end, it didn’t matter now, because Steven knew he’d thoughtlessly, carelessly torn open that rift between them again, with a mistake that had been so foolish and selfish. A plan that had he had only really come up with to ease his own worries and woes instead of Dipper’s, he realized. No wonder he’d said he was just like Bill… he was right in so many different ways. 

Yet in so many others, he wasn’t. 

Because another memory showed them fusing again, no words exchanged between them as they danced, literally lighter than air, their smiles warm and mutual as that cherished harmony flowed between them again. They laughed lightly, their hearts easy and free together, until they reached the point that those two separate hearts joined to become one. As their bodies and minds came together, as the line blurred between them until there was no space, no separation left at all. 

Until Steven and Dipper became Stepper. 

Then they were Stepper again, a frightened fusion lost in a horrendous, hateful place they had no chance of escaping. Their gem was cracked, their mind damaged, their lives both in grave danger. Yet even despite all that, they held onto each other, onto their bond, for everything it was worth. And what it was worth to both of them was something far more than mere words could have ever expressed.

“I don’t want to break away from you. Our friendship means so much to me. You mean so much to me!”

“Y-you… stayed with me… s-so I’m staying with you…”

“Steven…”

Steven gasped, his eyes wide with alarm as he was pulled out of this most recent memory. Suddenly, he could sense something behind him, a break in the massive, seemingly endless forest as another wide clearing opened up within it. The sparks of memory had led him here, to the forest’s largest, most distinct feature: a large, lofty tree, one that surprisingly bore signs of life in the sparse, yet fading leaves hanging limp from its branches. Several of those branches curved inward, converging on each other to create a small enclosure toward the top of the tree. And, floating unconsciously within the center of that enclosure, was none other than Dipper himself. 

Steven froze at the mere sight of him, a sharp, stunned gasp escaping him as he kept his focus on that spot in the tree high above him. Just as he’d been before, Dipper was completely out of it, his eyes closed and his expression listless as he hovered in what almost seemed to be a peaceful sleep. He looked faint, his colors dull and faded as silence echoed in the area all around him. At least until Steven made an attempt at breaking through to him from far below. 

“Dipper! Can you hea-”

“Ah, ah, ah, Rosebud!” Bill chastised as he suddenly appeared out of thin air right beside Steven. “You wouldn’t wanna wake Pine Tree up, now would you?”

“Y-yes, I would!” Steven retorted brazenly. “I found Dipper, which means you have to keep up your end of the deal. Now get out of his mind and leave us alone!”

“Now, now, Rosebud, if I remember correctly, the terms YOU laid out were that you had to find a way to bring him back,” Bill pointed out, glancing up at Dipper. “And as far as I can tell, Pine Tree’s still completely out of commission. Which means your gem and your memories are still on the line.”

“Y-yeah, but-”

“In fact, you know what? Why don’t we speed this along a little…?” Steven flinched as a bright blue flame ignited over Bill’s palm, one that was large and devastating as it flickered with a thirst for destruction. “I’ve got places to be, space rocks to cash in, so let’s clear the slate, permanently!”

“No!” Steven shouted, leaping high off the ground at the very same time Bill launched his deadly flame toward Dipper. The young Gem floated as fast as he possibly could, essentially racing the dream demon’s sadistic fire and twisted ambitions all at once, all in the hopes that he could stop them both. In the desperate need to finally save Dipper, even if he couldn’t save himself.  

The flame was gaining, his own heart pounding as he summoned a shield to jump off of as a springboard to gain some extra speed. Somewhere far behind him, he could hear Bill’s demented laughter echoing through the woods, his flames drawing nearer and nearer to Dipper’s unmoving, unknowing form. Steven cried as that flame passed him, knowing that he wasn’t going to make it in time, that he was already too late to stop this, knowing that he couldn’t be too late to stop this, that he had to save him, he had to bring him back, he had to, he was going to-

And he did. 

Somehow, with speed Steven didn’t even know he possessed, he soared through the air toward the top of the tree, his gem flashing as it provided him the strength he lacked to succeed. He cut the fire off just in time, reaching their shared target just before it could. And as soon as he did, he formed a sturdy, steady bubble around them both as he crashed into Dipper, throwing his arms around him and locking him in a tight, tearful embrace. As the flames slammed into it and abruptly burnt out on contact, Steven still hung onto Dipper for dear life, leaning his head against his shoulder as he offered him a solemn message, one that, while soft in its delivery, managed to speak volumes all the same.

All it took were three simple words Steven whispered gently into Dipper’s ear. Three simple words that were more than enough to get Dipper to finally, finally open his eyes. 

“NO!” Bill practically screamed in raw, intense fury as he watched his devious plans unfurl all around him. The once-dead mindscape began to bloom back to life, lush green needles sprouting on the pine trees dotted across it, its black sky dawning with newfound sunshine as the memories that had been ripped out of it were restored. Amidst this swift restoration, Bill found himself being ripped out of the mindscape instead, bound by the very deal he had agreed to, especially as an all-new blinding, purifying light began to spill across the forest. “ROSEBUD! PINE TREE!” the dream demon shouted hotly, unable to do a single thing as he was forced out of the mindscape that was in the midst of being harmoniously joined to another. 

“ROSE TREE!”

Everyone took in a shocked, startled gasp as something suddenly shifted, a stark change taking place amidst what they’d been anxiously watching for what felt like ages now. During that time, both Steven and Bill had remained completely still, their eyes shut and the young Gem’s bubble still erected to keep each of them out so they wouldn’t interfere. None of them knew what to make of it, and they were even more at a loss for words as Steven suddenly pulled Dipper’s supposedly possessed body forward into an unexpected hug. The very moment he did, Bill was abruptly tossed out of Dipper’s body entirely, flung far across the Nightmare Realm with an intense amount of force and an infuriated shriek. At the same time, a telltale warm glow surrounded Steven and Dipper, the bubble around them dissipating as that light overtook them both and brought them both together again. 

And brought Stepper back together again. 

He opened his eyes with a small, startled gasp, confusion filling his mind first and foremost as he looked around his inexplicable surroundings. “W-what… where…?” he trailed off, glancing down at all four of his hands, his bewilderment only increasing as he looked himself over. “Wait… when did we fuse--” He cut himself off with a sudden sob, one of his upper hands covering his mouth as his lower arms held onto each other tightly. “Y-you… you’re back…” He smiled warmly, joyful tears streaming down his cheek, even if half of him didn’t understand where those tears were coming from. “Back? Back from where?”

“H-he’s back?” Mabel suddenly spoke up, tears brimming in her eyes as she floated forward a bit, the others all hanging back as they stared at Stepper in apt awe. 

“He’s back!” Stepper nodded happily, though that happiness soon shifted right back into a puzzled frown. “Mabel? What’s going o-” 

Once again, he was interrupted as Mabel threw herself at him, hugging his midsection tightly as his lower arms readily returned it. The others were all quick to join her, each of them engulfing the fusion in a unified, delighted embrace. As overwhelmed with relief as they all were, none of them had a single word to say, only soft, contented smiles and silent, satisfied tears over the realization that somehow, some way, Dipper and Steven were both back, their memories mutually restored. Finally, their boys were safe; finally, they were whole. 

“O-ok, not that this isn’t really sweet and everything, but I’m confused,” Stepper said with a small, uncertain chuckle as everyone finally released him, though the hug his own upper arms had locked him in still remained. “What’s going on?”

“PINE BUD!” 

As this absolutely outraged shout rattled the entire Nightmare Realm, Stepper jolted, a rush of stark realization striking him, even as Stan, Ford, and the Gems all rushed to take up a protective stance in front of the fusion. But as soon as he spotted Bill rushing across the shifting spacescape toward them, all of his questions were abruptly, immediately answered. 

“Oh… I remember now…” he scowled, all four of his hands curling up into tight fists as he glared up at the towering dream demon firmly. 

“Out of my way, chumps!” Bill seethed, wasting no time with any of the others as he swiftly shoved all of them aside to get to Stepper. “YOU…” he growled, his form a bright, blood crimson as he offered the fusion a look of absolute hatred. “Do you have ANY idea what you’ve just done!? You cost me a gem, you cost me your dimension-”

“And you cost us our memories,” Stepper countered sternly, not showing a single sign of fear against the dream demon, not this time. Not after everything he’d done. “You almost cost us our lives. I’d say this makes us more than even.”

“NOT EVEN CLOSE!” Bill shouted, his hands aglow in blazing blue flames. “I was ready, I was THERE, set to wipe both of you miserable twerps from out of existence once and for all, and then you just had to go and turn the tables and CHEAT to get your way!”

“Oh, I cheated?” Stepper asked with an incredulous scoff. “I cheated?! Did you just forget about how you pinned us down and cracked our gem!? Or how you LIED to us, how you gave us no other choice but to give you our journal, our memories, our identities?!” The fusion was absolutely livid by this point, to the point that even Bill seemed surprised by just how intense and outraged his tone and expression alike were as his anger flowed out of him freely. Anger for just how much torment this monster had put both of his halves, his family and friends, everything and everyone he cared about through as a whole. “All you do, all you’ve EVER done, is cheat and lie to get what you want, all because you can’t get enough of tearing innocent lives apart just because you think it’s funny.  News flash, Bill: it’s NOT funny and it NEVER has been! And that’s why I’m DONE watching you use, and manipulate and hurt me and the people I love! It’s over, Bill,” Stepper finished firmly, Mabel, Stan, Ford, and all of the Gems regrouping by his side so they could all face the dream demon together. “We’re not letting you get away with it this time.”

Bill surprisingly said nothing as the group before him pulled their weapons back out, their resolve renewed now that they were all truly back together again. By all accounts, the dream demon seemed caught off guard by such a united, unflinching resistance against him, but even so, he wasn’t about to back down that easily, especially when he still had the home advantage on his side. “Oh, you wanna bet…?” he hissed darkly, launching his first round of fireballs at the group. Lapis quickly deflected them with a powerful burst of water as Garnet and Pearl rushed forward amidst the resounding steam, both of them hitting Bill at just the right angles in attacks he hadn’t been ready for. As he was distracted, Stan and Amethyst teamed up as the conman tossed the purple Gem at the dream demon, her whip spinning around her all the while as Ford kept up his own line of steady offense with his powerful blaster. Stepper himself was more than ready to join the fray, yet just before he could try to summon his shield journal, a sudden hand taking his stopped him. 

“Hey,” Mabel said, looking up at him with a soft, hopeful smile. “Got room for one more in there?”

“Always,” Stepper laughed warmly, not hesitating to sweep her up into a wide, lighthearted spin, one that was more than enough to bring Mabel into the fusion. 

Dipevebel let out a steadying, contented sigh as the light faded from their form, though their focus was quick to shift back to the battle raging before them. “Ready? Ready,” they grinned, the now-replenished shield journal appearing about one of their hands while Maven’s grappling shield materialized in one of their others. “Let’s do this.”

And with that, they rushed ahead to join the fray, using their third arm to end a shield flying at Bill point-blank just as another one of Pearl’s spears struck him. The dream demon reeled back with an aggravated shout, but he was quick to retaliate by shooting a widespread laser blast that the others made sure to block or evade the best they could. Garnet and Stan both rushed in with the intent of landing a simultaneous pair of punches, though Bill easily avoided their blows by disappearing out of the crowd persistently attacking him. He wasn’t able to get too much distance before Dipevebel’s grappling shield struck him clean in the eye, knocking him back a bit until Amethyst held him back by latching her whip around one of his arms. Bill wasted no time in setting fire to that whip, forcing the purple Gem to release her hold on it, though while he was distracted, he failed to notice the blast that was coming at him from behind until it struck him squarely in the back. Ford grinned as he poised his blaster for another round, though by then Lapis had taken over, bombarding Bill with a heavy dulgue of water while the others all continued their steadfast assault. 

“I can’t believe it!” Ford exclaimed with an incredulous laugh as he regrouped with Dipevebel for a brief moment. “We’ve got him on the ropes. If only I’d brought my quantum destabilizer, then we’d have a sure-fire way to finish him off for good.”

“Well… there’s gotta be some other way to really defeat him… right?” Dipevebel asked with newfound curiosity. 

“...I suppose,” Ford noted as he readjusted his blaster. “But I’m hard-pressed to think of one at the moment. For now, just fending him off until our portal home reopens will have to do.”

With that, the author took off to rejoin the fray, leaving the fusion behind to think on what he’d just said. While they certainly seemed to be doing an adequate job at holding Bill off by working together, a part of Dipevebel couldn’t help but feel as though that wasn’t good enough. Not as long as they had the opportunity, however small, to finally put an end to Bill’s chaotic ambitions once and for all. 

Amidst the heavy, unified resistance he was facing on all sides, it wasn’t long before Bill turned from mere aggravation over such resistance to outright outrage. While he hadn’t been pulling his punches before, as intensely provoked as he was, the dream demon’s attacks steadily became more violent and vicious. He lashed out at the Gems first, clearly with the intent of poofing them, if not something even worse, based on the intense, wide-reaching blast he launched their way, one that they were only narrowly saved from thanks to the large shield Dipevebel cast over them just in time. Even so, Bill wasn’t anywhere close to finished yet as he unleashed another powerful burst of flaming energy at the entire group, and while it fortunately didn’t substantially harm any of them, it did manage to knock them all back to give the dream demon some space to recover and gear up his next onslaught. 

From the force of this attack, Dipevebel suddenly split, though only partially. As she reoriented herself, Mabel was admittedly confused as she realized Dipper and Steven had somehow remained together, almost as if they had thrown her out of their fusion intentionally, though she highly doubted that was the case. Even so, Stepper remained steady, still upholding his shield journal as the others all prepared themselves for whatever Bill might have in store for them next. 

“ENOUGH!” Bill shouted, clearly furious in tone and form. “You’re all way more trouble than you’re worth for a bunch of dumb old space rocks and useless humans! I’ve got MUCH better things to do with my time than take you chumps down a peg.”

“Oh, sorry, Bill,” Stepper taunted with a brazen scowl. “We didn’t mean to inconvenience you even though you’ve more than inconvenienced all of us by now!”

“Can it, Pine Bud!” Bill snapped, not hesitating to launch another fireball the fusion’s way, one that he easily deflected with a timely bubble. “You know what? I’m sick of looking at all of your stupid faces. I think it’s time to do what I SHOULD have done a LONG time ago and take care of you chumps FOR GOOD!”

Strangely, Bill didn’t make a single move to attack the group immediately. Instead, he brought both of his hands up high above his tip, his eye going completely blank, pupil-less and white to match the practically blinding glow forming over his raised hands. A glow that only seemed to be growing stronger and more powerful with each passing second as the dream demon continued to build it up. “W-what’s he doing?” Pearl asked in apt alarm. 

“No idea,” Amethyst said tensely. “But I don’t want to stick around to find out.”

“It looks like we won’t have to,” Ford smiled, relieved, as he spotted a spark of sudden energy appearing afar in the distance behind them. “Look!”

That spark soon split into a portal, none other than the very one that would lead them back to their home dimension. On the other side of it, Peridot anxiously waited, still maintaining the machine that had created it, though it was clear from her frantic tinkering that it would only remain open for so long. 

“It’s time to go!” Garnet shouted, leading the way to leap through the spacescape back toward the portal. Seeing as how they’d certainly gotten what they came here for, no one protested this plan of action as they all began an urgent race to the portal, hoping to get out of Bill’s destructive range as soon as possible. Yet strangely, for his part, Bill didn’t seem to notice their escape at all, instead completely focused on feeding power into his next attack, whatever that mysterious attack might actually be. 

However, in light of his lack of focus on them, one among the group suddenly stopped short, something that wasn’t lost on Mabel as the hand that had been clinging onto hers suddenly fell away. “S-Stepper, what are you doing?!” she exclaimed, noticing that not only had Stepper stopped heading for the portal; he’d strangely turned his attention back to Bill instead. “C’mon! We gotta get out of here!”

Stepper largely ignored Mabel’s futile attempts at pulling him along by one of his lower arms. Instead, he remained focused on Bill, focused on the opportunity right ahead of him, a chance he knew he wouldn’t get like this again anytime soon. It would be so easy to run full speed toward the portal just as the others all currently were, so easy to go home and put this mess behind both of his halves. And yet…

There would still be the inevitable risk of Bill returning, the risk of the dimensional tears the rift was causing giving way to someone else falling into his nightmarish home just as he had. And of course, the risk that Bill could get his hands on the rift and use it to unleash destruction and devastation untold upon the world. No one was safe as long as the dream demon still lurked somewhere; not Stepper, not either of his halves, not Mabel, not the Gems, not Stan and Ford, no one on Earth was free from his twisted, relentless treachery. Even as confined to the Nightmare Realm as he currently was, he was still free to spread his lies and deception to anyone who would listen, still free to subtly, quietly ruin the lives of innocent people by taking away what they loved most. Bill was a monster, no question or doubt about it. A monster who, Stepper knew, Stepper remembered had put him through so much suffering, so much unnecessary pain just for his own demented amusement. A monster who had ripped away every shred of who he really was, who had burned half of his very identity out of mere sadistic pleasure alone. A monster who had left so much ruin and anguish in his wake for the endless string of atrocities he’d committed, both past and present. Atrocities that, for the sake of himself and his friends and family, at least one half of Stepper refused to let continue any longer. 

Even if that meant he might not make it back in the process.

“Mabel…” he finally spoke, glancing back at her with the faintest ghost of a bittersweet smile. “I-I… I’m sorry…”

Mabel didn’t get a chance to say a single word before Stepper bolted forward, jumping off a shield he’d summoned to give him some extra speed as he rushed back in Bill’s direction. “Stepper!” Mabel shouted, her distraught cry catching everyone else’s attention as they drew close to the portal. 

“What the heck is he doing?!” Stan exclaimed, completely baffled. “Have they both gone nuts?! We’re trying to get AWAY from the psychotic, bloodthirsty triangle, not run right back to him!”

“He’s going after Bill…” Ford said with a gasp of terrified realization. “The portal could close up again at any minute; we’ve got to stop him before it does!”

“On it!” Lapis said, calling upon her wings to give chase after the fusion. 

At the same time, Stepper continued speeding toward Bill, who was still completely captivated in charging up his own power. The fusion had forgone his shield journal in favor of attacking the dream demon head on, letting sheer, unbridled rage overtake him as he remembered every horrible thing his foe had done. Amidst that rage, Stepper didn’t even realize the vibrant pink glow that had started brimming in his usually dark violet eyes, pink that steadily spread out from his face across his entire body, to the point that he was glowing with it. At the same time, the entire Nightmare Realm had begun to rumble from the immense power Bill was pulling from it, his devastating attack nearing completion as he still seemingly ignored Stepper’s furious approach. For his part, Stepper was set to complete that approach as he drew from his own power, or more specifically, his gem’s, the countless momentous emotions running rampant between both of his halves fueling the fire of that power into a grand, uncontrollable blaze. 

And, working on every ounce of unspeakable anger within him, Stepper unleashed that blaze upon Bill at full force. At the very same time Bill released his own. 

Titanic waves of white, destructive energy violently clashed against a pink, purifying flash. The moment these two completely opposing forces met, the reaction was stark and immediate. An incredible explosion rocked the entire realm, rippling through every part of it in searing shockwaves. Those shockwaves split over the group in the midst of escaping from the Nightmare Realm, energy from them blasting their way through the very same portal that led back to Earth. And from that portal, that energy continued spreading in swift, largely invisible flourishes, engulfing all of Gravity Falls itself in a brief, inexplicable flash of what almost seemed like lightning. 

A single moment was all it took, a show of power far too immeasurable to contain. And just as quickly as that power flooded between both dimensions, it was all over, leaving everything seemingly exactly the same. And yet, in the process, leaving a sudden shift in the very fabric of reality itself, one that would practically change everything.

Both Bill and Stepper were thrown back by the brunt of this blast, hard enough that the fusion briefly lost consciousness altogether. When he finally did manage to open his eyes again, his ears were ringing, his vision blurry and his skin no longer beaming pink. He was flying backward, not on his own accord, but by something else entirely: by Lapis and the steady, unrelenting hold she had on both of his upper arms as she carried him back toward the wavering portal. 

As another wave of the explosion’s fallout shuddered through the Nightmare Realm, Stepper forced his bleary vision focus ahead of him, hoping that he’d see not a single sign of Bill anywhere in sight. And yet, his worst fears were realized as the dream demon suddenly rose into view afar in the distance, shaken by the impact of the explosion, but hardly no worse for wear because of it. 

“N-no…” Stepper choked, his eyes wide and distraught as he realized his plan hadn’t worked. Still, he refused to let it not work, it had to work, he had to stop Bill somehow, he was going to stop Bill right here and now and he wasn’t going to stop until he did. 

“D-Dipper! S-Steven!” Lapis grunted as Stepper started aggressively struggling against her firm hold. “What are you doing?!”

“L-let me go!” he shouted hotly, his lower arms reaching up to pry his upper ones out of Lapis’ hands.

“Are you crazy?!” Lapis retorted, incredulously. “There’s no way I’m letting you get anywhere close to him again! We’re getting both of you home where you belong, NOW!”

 “Please! Lapis, you have to let me go finish him off!” Stepper practically pleaded, knowing that they were nearing the portal. Which meant that his time to act was running out. “I know I can! I-”

 “Forget it!” Lapis snapped, infuriated by his stubbornness. By his incredibly self-destructive behavior above all else, especially after everything he’d just been through. “You are NOT doing this! We almost lost you once, I’m not letting that happen again!”

Stepper continued resisting her hold, wanting to argue back with every bit of palpable fury he had left in him. Yet he stopped just shy of them reaching the portal, which itself was on the verge of sealing up completely after everyone had already safely made it through to the other side. He stilled briefly, just to hear Bill offer him one final vindictive word of farewell. A bitter reminder of once possible chance that had just slipped out of his hands once and for all: 

“Nice try, Rose Tree, but you can’t get rid of me that easily! I’ll always come back! And I’ll ALWAYS BE WATCHING YOU!”

The last thing Stepper heard before Lapis dragged him through the portal was the dream demon’s haunting, malicious laughter. Laughter that had always tormented his mind and heart from the very beginning. And now, as long as Bill would continue to survive and thrive and carry on with his ceaseless conquest of chaos and destruction, it always would. 

The portal sealed itself up in a blinding burst of light, closing up the connection between the Nightmare Realm and Earth just in time. The moment it did, Garnet wasted no time in plowing her gauntlets into the machine that had made it, knowing that the risk of keeping such a device around was far too great. In light of their harrowing escape, most of the group took the time to recover their lost breath on the floor of the author’s room, save for Stepper, who, as soon as Lapis finally released him, made it a point to get up and vent his immense frustration right off the bat. 

“Why?” he asked harshly, turning on Lapis in particular as she also rose to stand. “Why did you stop me?! Why didn’t you let me go back and finish what I started?!”

“Finish what?” Lapis shot back just as severely. “Trying to get yourself killed?! You’re lucky to even be alive right now after what you just went through, and you were just... ready to throw the life you only barely managed to get back away without a second thought!”

“That’s not what I was trying to do!” Stepper argued fiercely. “I was trying to beat Bill once and for all. I could have done it too, I was right there-”

“And then what?” Lapis countered, refusing to back down. “Even if you had destroyed him, which you didn’t, either you would have been stuck in there forever or you would have wound up destroying yourself at the same time! You weren’t thinking about what you were doing, Dipper!”

“I was thinking!” Stepper shouted hotly, ignoring the fact that she had been spot on about who had actually decided on such a deadly course of action to begin with. “I was thinking that I had a chance to finally, finally stop him and I took it. Unlike the rest of you who just ran as soon as you had the chance.”

“We had no choice but to run, Stepper,” Garnet interjected, her tone surprisingly even. “Even while working together, we all only barely managed to hold Bill back. We didn’t go to the Nightmare Realm to pick a fight with him in the first place. We went there to recover your memories, which we did. We had no reason to risk staying there any longer.”

“Yes, we did!” Stepper rebuffed resiliently. “If we’d all worked together, we could have taken Bill down easily! We could have won! And if we had, if you had all just let me take my chance and stop him, then we’d never have to worry about him hurting anyone else ever again!”

“Stepper,” Ford spoke up with a weary sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Believe me when I say that no one wants to see Bill’s downfall more than me. But that was not the proper time and place to launch such a haphazard, desperate, reckless-”

“Reckless?!” Stepper interrupted with an appalled scoff. “You think I was being reckless?! I knew what I was doing in there! I was ready for whatever might happen as long as it might work. Defeating Bill-”

“Is NOT your responsibility!” Ford cut him off in newfound frustration. “You’re both just kids! Children who shouldn’t be anywhere near Bill, much less trying to bring him to an end!”

“But I could have done it!” Stepper protested. “We’re strong enough, I’m strong enough to face him! A-and… and even if I hadn’t made it back, wouldn’t it have been worth it to finally get rid of him, to finally keep everyone, the entire Earth, safe from what he’s planning for it?”

“N-no…” Mabel muttered on the outskirts of this intense fight, her voice barely audible as she clung onto Stan’s leg for support. “It wouldn’t have been…”

“Stepper, just… chill already!” Amethyst advised anxiously. “We all want to see Bill go down just as much as you do-“

“No you don’t!” Stepper sharply shouted, all four of his hands in tight, shaking fists. 

“Yes, we do,” Pearl countered as calmly as she could. “Bill has hurt all of us in so many different ways-“

“Ohohoh, yeah, Bill’s really hurt all of you,” Stepper scoffed, an air of bitter mocking in his tone. “The worst he ever did to any of you was trick you or possess you. Well guess what? He did BOTH of those things to me! But I guess you’re right. I mean it’s not like he took away every part of who any of you are and just... burnt it to ashes like it was nothing, RIGHT?!”

A long, heavy bout of silence filled the room at this, one that was only permeated by a heavy, angry sob from Stepper himself. He could tell just from the pity-filled glances they were all sending his way that no one was on his side with this, not really. Instead, they were all seeing him for exactly what he was: a pair of largely broken boys hiding behind a fused facade that was falling apart at the seams every bit as much as each of his halves were. And under their scrutinizing stares, Stepper quickly realized he could scarcely bear the immense weight of his own mounting mistakes, of his own failure to finally stop Bill’s tyranny once and for all. His failure to take back everything the dream demon had stolen from him and then some.

So he sighed, wiping away his tears as he turned to leave entirely. “Yeah…” he muttered as he walked out of the room. “That’s what I thought.”

Mabel was the first to move to follow Stepper, awash in worry for his wellbeing on several levels after everything that just happened. Yet before she could get too far, Garnet happened to stop her with a sudden hand on her shoulder. “Let him go,” she advised with a small, tired sigh, clearly sharing Mabel’s concern for the troubled fusion. “He needs space to work through this on his own. To work through this together.”

Shield after shield was flung off the top of the temple hill, with no real regard given to where they might be going until they inevitably disappeared into the distance entirely. Stepper knew he was essentially throwing a childish temper tantrum as he tossed them haphazardly, wishing he could throw away all of the anger and resentment he was feeling just as easily. Though his tears were gone, his frustration had hardly diminished, even though that palpable fury was only really coming from one of his halves all while the other one stepped aside to let them both feel it. After all, pain like this simply demanded to be felt. 

“It’s not fair!” Stepper shouted, letting another shield fly loose over the edge of the cliffside. “We finally had the chance to beat Bill for good and they just… took it away from us! And now he’s still out there, still after the rift, after all of us! It’s like none of them even understand that! I-I know…” he sighed sadly, his less furious side finally peeking through the cracks a bit. “But… there is an upside to all this. Really?” he scoffed, finally letting his shield journal disappear as he crossed his upper arms. “Because as far as I can see, there is none. There is,” his lower hands gently found a place against his upper ones. “We made it back; both of us remember who we are again… I know it’s not the same as actually defeating Bill but… at least we managed to win that much from him… That’s something... right?”

Stepper took pause at this, his gem and his birthmark briefly flashing with the same mutual thought: at least you’re ok if nothing else is… 

And on that thought, the fusion let out a long, exhausted sigh as he allowed himself to fall back into the soft grass, the bright morning sun casting a sort of welcome warmth he couldn’t quite feel. Instead, he felt cold on the inside, cold and sad and empty. A feeling both of his halves were far more used to than they should have been by this point in their lives. 

“I-I just… wanted to stop him…” he whispered, covering his eyes with his arms to block out any tears that might come. “I wanted to never have to think about him or what he did to me again… I wanted to finally learn how to feel safe again…” He could feel a morose sob begin to escape him, but his other half managed to stop it as he wrapped his lower arms loosely around himself. “You are safe… with me…”

While there was so much he could have said, so much he wanted to say at a moment like that, he let that gentle promise sink in, allowing himself to accept it as a much-needed momentary comfort. He let out another deep breath as he closed his eyes, simply letting himself lie there in solemn silence to reflect on everything that they’d been through. Everything he’d been through. 

His halves could remember everything their fusion had gone through, even when their own memories had been torn away from him. They could remember how lost and scared and alone Stepper had felt, how much he’d wanted to become his own person instead of being torn apart into either of them. It was a jarring recollection, to say the least, but even so, neither of his halves could fault him for it. Because in losing both Steven and Dipper, Stepper had lost who he really was too. 

And now, both of them were back, Stepper, Steven, and Dipper were all properly restored in body and mind. But it had been a narrow, almost hollow victory, one that they had barely managed to snatch away from Bill in a moment when all hope had essentially been lost. And in the end, Bill had really been the one to win, his wicked ways allowed to survive and thrive another day despite the fusion’s very best efforts to put an end to them. Because in the end, those efforts hadn’t been enough. He hadn’t been enough. 

Stepper didn’t know how long he’d been lying there when he finally caught onto the sound of approaching footsteps in the grass. A brief glance to the side told him Garnet was coming, and while he didn’t acknowledge her outside of that, he did sit up, pulling his knees to his chest as he glanced down at the wide view of the town before him. 

“Mind if I join you?” Garnet spoke up, though even so, Stepper refused to look her way. 

“I thought you were mad at me for being ‘reckless’, just like everyone else is…” he muttered crossly. 

“I’m not mad,” Garnet clarified, taking a seat in the grass beside him. “In fact, I’m very happy that both of you are safe and sound. We all are.”

“...But you still think what I tried to do was wrong… don’t you?” Stepper asked, finally briefly glancing her way. 

“Actually, I think what you did was very brave. And warranted. For the safety of our entire universe, Bill does need to go down, but the way you tried to go about doing it… that’s not how it was meant to go.”

“Now you tell me…” Stepper deadpanned, disappointed. 

“To be honest, I can’t see how, when, or even if Bill will ever be defeated,” Garnet said, adjusting her shades. “He evades my future vision every step of the way; that’s why what he did to the two of you came as such a shock. I could have never seen it coming; but if I had…” The Gem leader paused to wipe away the tear that had happened to slip out from under her visor. “I would have done anything in my power to keep both of you from suffering the way you did. Stepper is something that’s so special to both of you; the way you both have grown and bonded together through him is inspiring, even to me. But Bill turned your fusion, your bond, into a prison that you were both powerless to escape from. And that’s something I’ll never forgive him for.”

“Well… at least that’s something we can all agree on…” Stepper said, managing a weak smile at this. 

Garnet, on the other hand, said nothing, her focus set on the fusion before her and her expression unreadable all the while. Still, it didn’t take her long to speak to that scrutiny, noticing Stepper’s sudden confusion over it. “Stepper,” she began calmly, evenly. “Both of you have your memories back… you’re both whole again. Which is why I can’t help but wonder why, now that everything’s said and done, you’re still fused.”

“Wait… what?” Stepper frowned, looking over himself in newfound surprise. Or at least, surprise for one of his halves. “Oh my gosh, we are still fused. I-I mean, of course I knew we were fused, but… between everything else, I-I… I guess I didn’t really think about it until now…”

“Steven,” Garnet addressed the half of their fusion that was truly behind this. “You should tell Dipper the truth of why you’re still together. He deserves to know.”

“Know… what?” Stepper asked, only for his own shared thoughts to answer him as his gem and birthmark flashed once more. Tears had already started welling up in his eyes as he covered his mouth, both parts of him reeling from exactly what that answer actually was. “Y-you… you’re scared?” he whispered to himself worriedly. “Why? B-because!” he choked out a tight, sudden sob. “I don’t want to lose you again! When I brought you back from inside your mind, I-I didn’t have a clue what I was doing! I just thought fusing would work somehow, a-and it did! But… i-if we split up, then… I don’t know what’ll happen! I don’t want you to just… disappear all over again! Whoa, whoa, wait!” he stopped himself, trying to keep both of his halves steady despite such a frightening thought. “I-it’s ok! I won’t disappear. ...Will I?” he asked, looking to Garnet. 

“I… don’t know,” Garnet shook her head fretfully. “I can see several outcomes but… not all of them are good. Not all of them are absolute either.”

“So… what you’re saying is… there’s no telling what could happen?” Stepper asked, aptly anxious. Garnet only nodded in response to this, leaving the fusion at even more of a distraught loss than before. Especially when he realized what the alternative might be to staying together, an alternative with far more permanent consequences than he could really see at the moment. “Then… what should I do?”

“That’s your decision. One both of you have to make together,” Garnet advised as she stood, placing a consoling hand on Stepper’s shoulder as she did. “But whatever you choose, we’ll all be there for you. No matter what.”

And with that, the Gem leader left Stepper to ponder the momentous decision before him, the outcome of which could impact his life, or rather, the lives of his halves far more than any other decision either of them had ever been forced to make. Even so, the bittersweet irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. They’d come so far and fought so hard to get themselves, their memories, every piece of who they actually were as individuals, back from Bill. Only to realize that they still very well might have to end up trapped in their fusion all the same. Yet even so, neither of them saw that fusion as a prison, they never could. If anything, Stepper’s very existence meant more to them now, after all they’d gone through together as him, after how they’d managed to stay by each others’ sides through it all while being him, more than ever. But to be that fusion for the rest of their lives, after only just regaining their own identities… it was something Stepper wasn’t sure he could allow either of them to commit to. 

Which meant that once again, he found himself facing yet another incredible risk that he had no choice but to take.

He decided to unfuse in front of everyone, deciding it was better that they weren’t alone in doing so, just in case. There was a bit of convenient coincidence beyond that, since Ford had also spread the word that he wanted to gather everyone together for the sake of sharing some “important information”. But that information was largely the last thing on anyone’s minds as Stepper stood before them, preparing himself to finally split apart once more. He hadn’t told anyone else about the risk he’d be taking in doing so, and as far as he knew, Garnet was the only other one to know. And yet even so, she offered him a supportive nod to proceed, though he still hesitated, at least until he met Mabel’s practically pleading expression. He knew he’d kept her waiting for both of them for far too long now. It was time to give her brother and her best friend back. It was time to allow Dipper and Steven to rightfully return. 

A sense of calm washed over him at the same pace as the white, gentle light that enshrouded his form. It only took a second, it always took a second, but soon enough, there they both were, standing apart from each other, on their own, their hands still intertwined all the while. Steven opened his eyes instantly, only to notice Dipper starting to sway forward, his eyes still shut, his own return still completely uncertain. He panicked, rushing to catch him just before he could hit the den floor and Mabel hurried to join him at his side as he lay still for a long, unbearable moment. A moment in which Steven couldn’t help but think the unthinkable: that he really had just fortited Dipper’s life at the expense of his own after all. 

And yet nothing could have described the young Gem’s incredible relief when Dipper suddenly started to stir, a soft, tired moan escaping him as he slowly opened his eyes. He met the pair hovering over him with a small, warm smile, one that they both returned with a tight, tearful hug. The others were all quick to join in on that hug, the Pines and the Gems all folded together into a momentary blissful embrace… but one that ultimately did little to fully heal the heavy rifts that this dire ordeal had torn between so many of them. 

Even so, everyone settled down, taking a seat across the den to listen to Ford’s most recent findings in light of their frantic escape from the Nightmare Realm. Steven and Mabel sat with Dipper sandwiched close and comfortably between them both, all three of them quite cozy under the light blanket Pearl had draped over them. Despite that, they were just as on edge as all the others were as Ford began to divulge what he knew, his own tone and manner rather grave and serious as he reported his latest research to them. 

“So I have some good news and some bad news,” the author began as he flipped through his notes. “The good news is that after a thorough scan of interdimensional activity, I can safely say that Bill is still confined to the Nightmare Realm, as he should be. He didn’t manage to slip back through our own portal home. But… there’s still an entirely new problem altogether. It seems as though there have been several small, randomly-forming gateways to the Nightmare Realm appearing in the area in and around Gravity Falls due to… some u-unexplained phenomena.” Ford hesitated at this, exchanging a brief, knowing glance with the Gems, confirming that all of them knew the rift was to blame for those gateways. “It was through one of those gateways that Steven and Dipper first wound up in the Nightmare Realm to begin with, correct?”

“Yeah…” Dipper answered, bitterly glaring away as Steven nodded fretfully. 

“So… are these random portals something we should be worried about?” Lapis asked, aptly concerned. 

“I-I think they should be, especially if Cipher can manage to sneak his way through them!” Peridot exclaimed tightly, fearfully. 

“Well actually, he can’t!” Ford pointed out with something of a relieved smile. “Largely since those portals won’t lead to the Nightmare Realm, at least not anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Pearl asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow. 

“It seems as though the fallout from that last attack exchanged between Bill and Stepper had a certain… effect on the ongoing interdimensional instability,” Ford said, clearing his throat as he looked away from Steven and Dipper in particular. The pair exchanged a confused glance all the same, completely oblivious to whatever impact their shared power could have had at large. In fact, the only thing either seemed to know of that incredibly strong, momentous attack was that it hadn’t worked as they’d intended it to. “That fallout slipped through our portal back and rippled across not only our dimension, but… from the looks of it, several others. It severed the existing connection between our world and the Nightmare Realm, for now, and instead opened up passageways between our dimension and countless worlds existing parallel to it! I’ve never seen anything like this before, it’s-”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s ‘astonishing’,” Stan deadpanned, annoyed. “Mind explaining all that mambo-jumbo in english for the rest of us, poindexter?” 

Ford returned his brother’s scowl at this but even so he complied. “Simply put, the randomly-occurring portals that once led to the Nightmare Realm will continue to show up, but instead, they’ll lead to parallel dimensions to our own.”

“Well… that doesn’t sound too bad,” Mabel piped up. “At least nobody else can get sucked into the Nightmare Realm again, right?”

“While that is true, these dimensional gateways still have me concerned all the same,” Ford mused. “Regardless of where they lead, they’re still holes torn in the very fabric of reality itself. And the more holes we let rip their way into it, the weaker that fabric will steadily become.”

“Then that makes those portals a problem,” Garnet said firmly. “Possibly even more of a problem if Bill somehow finds a way to use them to his advantage.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Ford staunchly agreed. “That’s why I’m already in the process of readying a device that can not only scan for these portals, but close them up completely. But it’s going to take some time. For now, the best any of us can do is keep an eye out for any unusual dimensional anomalies, especially anything akin to a portal. Where exactly these gateways could lead is mystery; as far as we know, the worlds they connect to could be hostile and dangerous. So until we can find a foolproof way to keep them at bay, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

A murmur of solemn agreement passed throughout the room at this, everyone understanding just how much of a problem these newfound portals could really pose. But at the same time, Steven and Dipper both remained silent, their shared role in changing where these portals led not lost on either of them. Because in the end, their last-ditch, desperate attempt at stopping Bill only did more harm than good. 

Just as everything either of them did always seemed to do.  

The night air was cool and crisp and refreshing, complimenting the dark, moonless sky well. The natural silence filling that air was calm and comforting, an aura Dipper tried to let wash over him as he sat on the shack’s roof platform alone. In general, being alone was suddenly a strange sensation to him, even outside of no longer being fused with Steven; Mabel and Stan hovered over him with immense concern (or as much concern as Stan was actually willing to show) for the rest of the day, and while Lapis and Ford both kept their distance for obvious reasons, he still caught them sending several fretful glances his way all the same. He’d assured them several times over that he was fine, that there was nothing more for any of them to worry about, but of course that worry still came all the same. 

Only now, in the very late hours of the night once everyone else had finally gone home or gone to sleep, was Dipper able to find a spare moment of solitude. Yet even still, that solitude felt strangely… wrong somehow. He frowned as he glanced down at his hands, only two now instead of Stepper’s four. The longest he’d ever been part of a fusion before was for a few hours at most; but the course of several days as Stepper, both when Stepper remembered he existed and when he didn’t, had left him feeling oddly out of place on his own. While he didn’t necessarily feel the need to be fused, he still felt wrong somehow. He felt like something important, essential even, was missing. 

Above all else, he felt alone. 

Or at least he did until the very person he wanted to see most suddenly came to join him. 

“H-hey,” Steven greeted with a small wave, landing on the roof from the floating leap he’d taken to get up there. 

“S-Steven?” Dipper started, though he was quick to ease up as Steven came over to take a seat next to him. “What are you doing here so late?”

“I… I couldn’t sleep,” the young Gem admitted. “Not after… well, you know.”

“Yeah…” Dipper sighed, pulling his knees to his chest as he perched his chin upon them. “Same here…”

Silence lingered between both boys for what felt like hours, both of them knowing there was so much they could have discussed in light of what they’d just been through together yet neither of them knew where to start. Eventually though, Dipper was the first to speak up, a very vague, distressing thought filling his mind, a memory he only really had at all thanks to Steven sharing it with him while they were still fused. “I… I really was gone… wasn’t I?” he asked, his voice barely even above a whisper. 

Steven shuttered, hating to even think about what had to have been one of the absolute worst moments of his entire life so far. Even so, he knew he owed Dipper the truth of the matter. “Yeah…” he admitted anxiously, glancing away. “You were…”

“But… you brought me back… didn’t you?” Dipper asked, glancing over at him. 

Steven nodded, finally managing to muster a small, fond smile at this. “I would have never been able to do it without your help.”

“My help? What do you mean?”

“Your memories,” the young Gem’s smile widened just a bit. “When I was inside your mind, they were what led me to find you.”

“...You were inside my mind?” Dipper asked with a light frown. 

Steven gasped, his eyes widening as he realized the unintentional slight he’d made against Dipper in doing so, memories of their bitter argument flooding his mind with guilt and dread. “I-I’m sorry!” he exclaimed anxiously. “I know you don’t like me using my powers on you, b-but it was the only thing I could think of to get Bill out and save you, a-and I-”

He was abruptly cut off as Dipper engulfed him in a tight, unexpected embrace. The tears that were well on their way stopped, for Steven at least, though for Dipper, they were only starting to arrive. “Please, please don’t be sorry,” he begged him, remorse racking his tone as he sobbed against his shoulder. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m the one who should be sorry! I said so many terrible things to you! I-I can’t believe I said you were anything like… like him! You’re not! You’re nothing like he is! What was I even thinking?!”

“Y-you were just upset,” Steven tried to sooth him as he gently returned his desperate hug. “I’m not angry about it; I never was.”

“You should be!” Dipper protested, tears streaming down his cheeks as he pulled away from the young Gem a bit. “You should be furious with me, not risking your life to try to save mine like you did! W-why… why’d you do that?” his volume diminished entirely at this as he closed his eyes, looking away in unspeakable shame. “Why didn’t you just let me go…?”

“Because,” Steven comforted him, placing his hands against Dipper’s arms in the hopes of calming him down. “When my gem was cracked, you didn’t let go of me. And even if you had, I still would have done anything I could to get you back.”

“B-but why?” Dipper asked, still mystified by the young Gem’s sheer, incredible sense of loyalty.

“Because you’re my best friend, Dipper!” Steven laughed warmly, tears brimming in his own eyes now. “I’d do anything for you!”

“A-anything…” Dipper repeated, letting out a small, incredulous chuckle of his own. That levity soon faded as he slowly wiped a few of his own tears away. “Even agree to sacrifice everything just because I wanted to defeat Bill, huh?” 

“Of course,” Steven nodded earnestly. “I could tell that’s what you wanted more than anything. I knew how much you thought that would help you, and all I wanted, all I’ve ever wanted, is just to help you. And I guess… I listened to you for a change to figure out how.”

“A part of me wishes you hadn’t,” Dipper sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “As much as I hate to admit it, the others were right; if our attack had worked, then… there’s a pretty good chance neither of us would be sitting here right now. I almost got us both killed, all because I was obsessed with finally getting even with him for every awful thing he’s done to us. But… it didn’t work. Of course, it didn’t…” he sighed again, shame creeping into his tone once more as he hugged himself loosely. “I was wrong… just like I always am.”

“N-no, you weren’t, it’s just…” Steven frowned, unsure of what he really wanted to say. “It’s like Garnet said; now just… wasn’t the right time. But… when we finally do stop him, and we will, then we’ll do it together, just like before.”

Dipper faltered briefly at this, wanting to believe such a hopeful idea, that Bill really could and would be brought to justice someday. And yet, in light of him so easily escaping that justice yet again, he knew that finally bringing him down once and for all would be far easier said than done. 

Yet for the moment, at least, he allowed himself to smile, grateful to be alive after everything they’d both been through. Grateful for his memories, now revived and restored in full. Grateful for Steven, grateful for his support, his selflessness, his kindness in every instance of this ordeal. And most of all, grateful that their friendship had managed to weather the worst of storms it could have ever gone through, grateful that the rifts torn between them had, at long last, finally been repaired. 

So he still smiled, knowing that even if Bill was still out there and their problems were still plentiful, there was still so much to be grateful for. Still someone who stayed right by his side through it all, who was ready to stay by his side, right up to the bitter end. 

Someone he knew, without a single question in his mind, was nothing less than the absolute best friend he could have ever asked for. 

“Yeah… Together.”

Next:

[carryonsimoncarryonbaz]

Whumptober Day 26

Day 26: Abandoned

Warnings for blood, character death, generalized Mage assholery. It was hard to write but it’s what came to me when I saw today’s prompt. Sorry for the angst. 

Abandoned:

The Mage

There was no choice. There were no other options.

It was a pact we made together. It was the result of years of investigation, research, planning—the culmination of our magical destiny. The way we were going to change the world, together.

But every day that passed made the brightness in Lucy fade a little more. Took the color from her cheeks, the breath from her lungs, the steadiness from her gait. The power of her magic draining away.

She couldn’t even cast the simplest of spells by the end.

I poured every bit of healing magic into her. Into both of you. Spells and incantations. Blessings. Talismans. Draughts and poultices drawn from the most obscure and banned texts. Everything I had.

I couldn’t stop it. And I had to protect you.

You, Simon. The hope of the magickal world. The Greatest Mage. The one who will save us all.

I read the books. I watched the videos. I knew what to expect when Lucy went into labor. I had magic and a smattering of medicine to see us through.

It wasn’t enough.

Her labor came on the solstice—just as we had hoped. Just as we had planned. Just as had been foretold.

There wasn’t much pain, that’s what Lucy said. Just a pulling, a tightening and then a release.

And there you were. Simon. Our Simon. Ruddy faced and squalling. Blue eyes clear and wide. A tuft of hair swirled onto your forehead.

“My rosebud boy.” That’s what Lucy called you. That’s what she said as she held you to her, gazing down at you with so much love in her eyes that I felt my heart stutter in my chest.

I loved Lucy. I covered her with kisses then, the both of you. Kissed her face, her nose, her forehead.

Kissed the tips of your fingers, Simon. The damp strands of hair on your head. The barely-there stub of your nose.

Wrapped you in the blanket she had knitted for you, on those days when she couldn’t even lift herself from the bed. Wrapped you up and set you back on her chest.

The bleeding started a few moments later. The books said that was normal. To be expected.

Not that much bleeding. Not that fast.

Not that much.

It soaked the bed, the mattress. Poured out of Lucy and not one spell I cast made a difference. I mustered all the power that was in me and cast spell after spell.

“Get well soon.”

“Good as new.”

“Right as rain.”

“Fit as a fiddle.”

“All’s well that end’s well.”

“Back on your feet.”

“On the mend.”

“Just what the doctor ordered.”

“Apple a day.”

“Blood is thicker than water.”

“Time heals all wounds.”

It felt like casting in a void.

As if she were resistant to it all. Not just drained of her own magic, as she’d been the last few weeks, but immune to mine.

Immune to magic itself. It didn’t matter how many times I said the words. How quickly. How loudly.

I was shouting them by the end, the words spilling out of me in torrents.

Her eyes closed.

Lucy’s grip on you never slackened, Simon. Even when she was gone, her arm still stayed curled around you.

I didn’t know what to do. I never thought . . . I never thought the offerings we made would be sacrifices.

Spells.

Relics.

A host of magickal objects, procured by stealth and subterfuge—mane of a unicorn, fresh dragon’s blood, moss from the standing stones of Machrie Moor, a slip of fairy wing, a basilisk scale, ashes from a phoenix, ground demon tusk.

Pixie dust. For Lucy.

That’s what we gave. That’s what we surrendered to our cause.

That’s what was needed to create you.

Blood.

I thought the chickens would be enough. The ritual sacrifice of something dear.

Lucy loved them so.

She wasn’t supposed to pour herself into you. I never asked that of her.

I never wanted that.

It’s done.

She went still and pale and all I have left is you, Simon.

I don’t have a plan for this. This wasn’t in my reckoning. It was meant to be Lucy and me, raising you here, in the remote solitude of this island, at my ancestral home.

Free to teach you all the mysteries of magic, the skills and tools you will need to fulfill your purpose, without the elitist trappings that taint our world. Away from the classist power mongers that comprise the Old Families. Far from the blatant speciest views of the Coven.

Here. Here is where we would build your spirit, hone your magic, prepare you for the destiny that lies ahead.

The Greatest Mage.

We made you, Simon. We brought a prophesy to life.

But I couldn’t keep you.

Not now.

I can’t fulfill my part of this, not without Lucy here to guide you, protect you, while I infiltrate the very bastions of the old guard. I can’t pave the way.

Not with an infant in my arms.

A child I can’t explain. One I can’t claim as my own without a myriad of intrusive questions.  

The Chosen One that I created to bring down the flawed and corrupt World of Mages can’t be with me.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

I dug the grave at the far end of the garden, near the rowan trees. Magicked the grass over it. Placed a paving stone with a hastily spelled rendering of a rose on it. Lucy would have liked that.

The cottage is locked. My books, papers, journals, and files are all warded. It will take my blood to gain access to them.

I didn’t have time to do much more than that.

I had to take you somewhere, Simon.

I couldn’t keep you fed by magic alone. I couldn’t keep you with me.

The boat to the mainland left at dusk.

A boat. A bus. A train.

A “nothing to see here.”

An “out of sight out of mind.”

Nothing for the Normals to remember us by.

I wrote your name on your right arm. The name Lucy wanted you to have. Simon Snow.

I couldn’t give you mine.

I wrote it in the moments before I left you. Before I swaddled you in the blanket Lucy made.

Before I kissed your forehead one last time.

Before I said my final goodbye to you.

Before I set you gently on the steps of the care home, rapped on the door and cast a “through a glass darkly” on myself as I melted into the shadows of the alleyway.

She had a kind face. The woman who opened the door and fussed at the sight of you. Who instantly picked you up and held you close, tucking the loose end of the blanket around you.

I will keep my eye on you, Simon Snow. You hold the fate of our world in your hands.

I’ll know when the time comes. I’ll know when to find you again.

[jimlingss]

Head Over Heels to Hell

➜ Words: 27.5k

➜ Genres: 80% Fluff, 20% Angst, Childhood friends To Enemies To Lovers!AU (it’s a roller coaster), Reverse Soulmate!AU, Historical!AU (kind of)

➜ Summary: Some people are destined to never have a soulmate. You are one of the few. Instead, you have something much different - a parasite set out to destroy and ruin your life no matter where you run to.

➜ Warnings: Mention of death and a shit ton of other things - I promise it's not too angsty but still tread carefully. Implied smut & slight historical inaccuracies.

➜ Notes: My god, I wrote this back in April. But honestly, I’m so fucking proud of it. This is probably my most favourite Hoseok story I’ve written up to date. Dare I say, it might even be masterpiece level. Anyways, I’ve been super excited to share this. Enjoy!

Cr.

Each person born is destined for one or perhaps several, fated to fall in love with their other half or a fragment of themselves. Whether it be a whirlwind of romance rendezvous, a heated passion pressed between sheets or a comforting presence by your side that makes a home a true home - each individual has a chance to make their heart feel full, their soul fulfilled and the void feeling that lingered while they travelled through life on their own disappears.

 You, however, are not so fortunate of an individual.

 “A few folks in the world don’t have a soulmate.” The old woman sighs while looking out from her porch. You sip on your juice box, swaying from side to side on your toes next to the rocking chair. “I can see it in your eyes, dear. A bachelorette. You’ll be alone for your entire life and the next to come.”

 You quirk your head to one side. “What’s a bachelorette?”

 You can’t comprehend what your grandmother is saying. She’s using such complicated words that your dad hasn’t taught you yet but you aren’t very concerned with it either. Any second now, your mom will emerge from the kitchen with ants on a log and you’ve made sure you finished your breakfast this morning to be able to eat them. Also, your mom says your grandmother is old and her mind isn’t as sharp as it used to be, whatever that meant.

 Did that mean she was crazy? If she’s crazy then that’s not good. But maybe crazy is fun and exciting. Oh! That little doggy that wanders around the yard is also fun and exciting. Speaking of which, where is it?

 “It means you won’t be able to experience love.”

 Your grandmother snaps your attention momentarily back into focus. You peel your eyes away from the verdant green lawn to the wrinkles surrounding her experience yet tired eyes. “At least, you can experience it but nowhere near the amount that soulmates would feel. Instead of a soulmate, you have something much different, Y/N.”

 “What is it?”

 For once, the sorrow and pity laced in her features has melted off. The old lady smiles at you and pets your head lightly. “You’ll find out someday.”

 Without fully understanding the weight of her words, there will come a day when you look back and regret not taking heed of the warning.

Fate decides to begin smiling down at you at four years old.

 Barely able to walk on your own two feet without wobbling, your mother sends you off to preschool with a bright knapsack and brand-new shoes. You aren’t aghast to be without her but more so, bewildered that there are so many miniature humans like you in the confines of such a small space. “Y/N?”

 Your name being called has you flopping your head to the ceiling where a young lady with an apron tied around her waist is grinning. “You’re Y/N, right? Welcome to our little Buttercup Daycare!” The teacher squats down to meet your height. “We’re just having a little playtime now before all the kids get here and we do some crafts together. Is there something you’d like to play with?”

 It’s then that you confirm you quite like this lady. She’s very nice and pretty.

 Your tiny arm raises, finger moving from your fist to point at the pink princess castle in the corner. She smiles and ushers you over. “Great choice! Do you like princesses?” You nod at her question, and she hums, watching as you open the door and study the plastic building. “You know, Emily really likes to play with princesses too! She would be a great friend. I should go get her.”

 No. No. No. You don’t want a friend. You want to play with the teacher- “Oh…”

 Before you were able to turn around and voice your opinion, the lady has disappeared in the sea of children. You whip your head around, standing on the tips of your toes to catch sight of her but the struggle is fruitless.

 Suddenly, it hits you hard. Your mother is gone. Your father is at work. The teacher is nowhere in sight and all these rambunctious strangers are scaring you. They’re shouting, screaming, running, giggling - it’s sheer madness.

 With the blind courage of a four-year old, you bravely step into the crowd, yelping when a stranger bumps into you, whimpering when a block is thrown at your foot, crying softly as someone steps on your shoes. It’s no wonder that you get pushed aside so easily when even a gust of wind could knock you off your feet. But this time, it isn’t a mere nudge.

 Like a swift current, a stream of children running indoors when they’re not supposed to, accidentally collides into your little body, shoving you aside and you're pushed to the ground. A shock ripples throughout your frame, knees bruised, palms met with the rough carpet. You’re absolutely stunned, unable to grasp what just happened but in the delayed second, as pain shoots up your bones, you break out into horrific and heart wrenching sobs.

 “Owie…”

 “Stop crying.” In the midst of the chaos, you rub your eyes with your little fists, lifting your chin to meet the tall shadow looming over you. The stranger wears no smile, oddly familiar in a way you can’t understand and his cold gaze doesn’t make you waver or scared. Instead, your eyes follow his command, halting the tears that were falling like raindrops. “Only babies cry. You’re not a baby.”

 The boy should be the same age as you. Should because no child should have such a fixated stare and serious expression. There are only a few inklings that show his youth, the pitch black hair that looks more like a ruffled cloud, strands poking out in every direction, the low height and stature that may be smaller than your own body and the navy green overalls splattered with colours that are not supposed to belong there.

 “Stand up.”

 He holds his hand out to you, palm facing upwards. You sniffle for a moment, letting the remaining salt water drip down your cheeks and then your arm reaches out.

 Your hand clasps his and the boy lifts you off your feet.

 “My name is Y/N.” You smile at him happily, giggling when he tries to shake off your grip but fails to do so. You fear if you’ll let him go, your new friend will disappear into the pandemonium. “What’s your name?”

 “Hoseok.” He sighs when he realizes that you’re going to stick around him now. But he decides you both might as well do something together. “You wanna paint?”

 You loll your head, following his finger that’s pointed to the round table with the green stools and brushes laying on the watercolour sets. Hoseok patiently waits for your answer and you give another toothy smile, letting your dress twirl when you look at him again. “Okay!”

 Four-years old is when you meet Jung Hoseok at preschool and you become stuck to his side like gum, declaring him as your best friend while discovering his enjoyment for painting; how he marks up white printer paper until it’s drenched in vivid hues, scribbling with brushes until all the brush hairs has fallen off. Even if he doesn’t want to admit it, you’re his greatest friend!

 “Paint me! Paint me!”

 “No.” He ignores your crestfallen expression. “Don’t wanna.”

 It’s too difficult to hold back the sadness and you can’t help but cry, “Why?”

 The boy huffs out, turning away from you until you face his backside. “Cause I said so.”

 It’s not like he doesn’t want to. Hoseok would paint you if he could. But there’s not really a colour in the watercolour set that could be used to show how brightly your eyes shine.

 Plus, he knows he’s not that good. It would be mean to make you ugly. Especially when you’re far from it in reality.

 //

 Fate’s smile never ceases its smile. Even when years pass and you’re slowly getting a better grip on yourself, it seems like life has always shown you a better side of itself. Well...for the most part at least...

 “Y/N, why are you disrupting class again?” The teacher at the front slaps down her whiteboard marker on the metal ledge, exhaling and giving you a hardened glare. “Do we need to have another chat outside?”

 You wince from the sharp tone, cheeks flushing with embarrassment as the class of thirty students have turned around to stare at you. “I’m sorry.” You sink lower in your desk seat. “I-I can’t find my writing journal. I think someone stole it…”

 The teacher scoffs. “Well does it look like we’re writing, right now? We’re doing social studies, so please, sit up straight and open your textbook to page one hundred seventy-four. Now. Please.”

 Everyone turns back to the notes on the board and you downcast your head, trying your best to pay attention but to no avail. To the side, a friend offers some consolation through a warm smile, though before she can lean over and whisper to you, the teacher gives the both of you the stink eye. The old woman’s voice drones on and on about the geography of the world, explaining a worksheet and what shade to use when colouring the countries in.

 As an eight-year old, third grade was the worst.

 Not only was the teacher mean to you, the classes were boring and you didn’t have that many friends. Most of the girls didn’t like you very much since you didn’t like to play with dolls anymore and you weren’t that interested in discussing crushes or soulmates. You liked to write but they thought that was boring. Friends or no friends, it was fine by you. But it was still kind of lonely.

 “I still can’t find my journal.”

 The teacher, sitting at her desk, looks up at you with her reading spectacles perched on the tip of her nose. “Well that’s what happens when you’re too irresponsible with your belongings, Y/N. You should learn how to be more organized.”

 “But I left it inside my desk in the corner like always!” While defending yourself, your voice moves up a pitch, and she seems to get annoyed from the sound. “It’s not fair! I think someone took it!”

 “Don’t be ridiculous! The door’s always locked.” She sighs, exhausted from having to reason with an illogical child. “Stop blaming other people for your mistakes, Y/N. If it’s lost, then it’s lost because of you. You’ll just have to re-do all the assignments and entries I gave.”

 “But-”

 “I don’t tolerate any back talk. Now go outside like you’re supposed to. The bell doesn’t ring for another twenty minutes.” The woman doesn’t offer any more chances as she turns back to her stack of papers, thirty booklets full of worksheets that were handed in and had to be marked by the end of the week.

 You open your mouth to retort but a staggering breath leaves instead. Your shoulders droop with defeat and you force yourself to drag your feet out of the classroom, frame quivering with sobs threatening to break through your throat. The hallway grows blurry in your vision, clouded with tears but you clench your fist, nails digging into your skin, repressing the urge to cry.

 “Y/N?”

 You slowly turn around at the familiar voice and quickly, you wipe your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie. “Hey, Hoseok. What’s up?”

 “Nothin’. Are you okay?” He steps forward, meeting you halfway and you meekly nod.

 “Ms. Choi is a mean witch so it’s whatever.”

 Hoseok laughs and you find your lips upturning at the sound.

 One of the biggest reasons third grade completely sucks is because Hoseok isn’t your best friend anymore. Actually, he hadn’t really been your friend since two years ago when you entered first grade. It seemed like in your school, girls hung out with girls and the boys would do their own thing. As much as you disliked it, you couldn’t do much when your friends pulled you away to the other side of the playground where the park benches were and Hoseok was off at the field playing soccer with his other classmates.

 You can’t actually remember the last time you talked to Hoseok. Anytime when you did, whether it be during class or outside, your peers would ask you if you liked him or if you’re dating or if he’s your soulmate. You don’t even know what any of that means.

 (Also, there’s the whole rumour that you can catch germs from boys but you don’t think that’s right).

 “Did you find your journal?”

 “No.” You whimper, downcasting your head at the reminder and afraid that you’ll really begin to start crying. It would be so humiliating to do it in front of him - you’d never return to school again. “I think it’s lost.”

 “It isn’t.” He smiles and reveals what’s hidden behind his back, unbending both his arms and thrusting it out in front of you. A gasp spills from your lips and your doe eyes dilate from the recognizable bright green cover. “I found it in the lost and found.”

 You grasp at the notebook, taking it into your hands, feeling the metal coil beneath your fingertips and the wrinkled pages full of erasing, scribbling and doodles. “Thank you.” You choke out words of gratitude, grinning so widely that your cheeks might burst and your eyes well up with happiness. “Thank you. I-I thought it was gone forever. I thought it was stolen.”

 “By Seokjin, right?” He smiles when you nod. “Yeah, I think he stole my pencil too. I lent him a sharper once and it was gone by the end of the day. No one believes us when we tattle on him.”

 “You’re the best, Hobi!” It’s a nickname that you haven’t said in a while, and he’s about to mumble something back but you smother him in a tight hug. Hoseok pretends he’s being choked to death, making hacking sounds and muttering your name but you don’t let up. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

 “Yeah, sure.” He uses all his strength to rip your arms away from his neck, prying it off in a hurried pace before someone else sees. His breath steadies and he glares at you. But you remain smiling at him, and he scratches the back of his neck, sighing. “I hope it’s okay but I read some of it.”

 “What?” Your eyes enlarge. “You did?!”

 “Yeah.” Hoseok shrugs. “It’s actually not bad but you suck at spelling.” You smile sheepishly at him, acknowledging your bad marks in every spelling pop quiz. “I could fix it for you if you want me to.”

 “Nah, it’s okay.” You don’t want to bother him anymore than you already have. It’s already made you happy enough to have your journal back and to hear that your writing is pretty good; technically he said ‘not bad’ but you’re taking it is a compliment. “Thanks though.”

 The boy in his green plain shirt and trousers is beginning to say something but a hall monitor strides down the hall and whips his head over at the sight of you. “Hey! Aren’t you kids supposed to be outside for recess?!”

 You and Hoseok exchange a startled look before you both book it out the doors together.

 //

 At twelve, fate begins to show its ugly side. Technically not as much as your ugly side.

 It’s painful to admit but you look like the ‘before’ shot of those cosmetic surgery advertisements - bad skin, pimpled face, gawky glasses, braces, awkwardly cut hair, limbs too long — the whole nine yards and more.

 It also doesn’t help that you feel like everyone else looks like they came straight out of a magazine, blown out hair, flawless features, a perfect smile and trendy clothing. So, it’s probably not all in your mind that people are staring and talking behind your back when you walk to your locker or to go to class. Why did puberty have to fuck you up so badly?

 “What are you talking about?” Your friend rests against the washroom counter. “You’re so pretty Y/N. You just don’t see it.”

 The reflection in the mirror says otherwise.

 You look over at her with an unimpressed expression. A lump lodges in your throat when you detect pity in her gaze but you ignore it. “Thanks but I feel really horrible. My skin is itchy and I feel bloated and this is probably too TMI, but my bowel movements haven’t been great.”

 “You’re fineeee.” She emphasizes, flicking a piece of dirt from under her nails. “Trust me when I say it’s a lot worse in your head. No one cares, you know. They’re all too concerned about themselves anyways. But it’ll get better, Y/N. Chin up.”

 “...Thanks.”

 It’s not like you wanted all these insecurities. It just happened to knock on your door, barge inside without a warning and now you constantly feel bad about yourself no matter where you go. The world would be a lot better if it were socially acceptable to wear a plastic bag over your head.

 “I better get back to Mr. Jeon’s math class before he freaks out and sends someone to go look for me.” She checks her phone once and then pats you on the back, standing back on both feet. “See you at lunch, Y/N.”

 “Yeah, see ya.”

 The moment your friend walks out the washroom door, you look back at the silver mirror with a long sigh. No matter what you do, how much foundation or concealer you pack onto your face, it doesn’t help anything. You can either look like a peasant girl or a clown - you’re not sure what’s worse.

 You reach deep into your hoodie pocket, a sleek surface meeting your fingertips and you hesitantly pull the small object out. It’s a lipstick that you smuggled from your mother’s makeup bag this morning. The pink bullet is soft and pretty in hue but you’re aware the moment it meets your mouth, it’ll look like a child trying to play dress-up.

 “All or nothing.”

 You murmur to yourself using some encouraging clichés and then, your hand lifts to dab on the colour. With the lightest touch and your pinky smearing the product, you pop your lips, taking a step back to look at yourself. And wow.

 For once, you don’t feel like a roach emerging from the back of a dumpster.

 You throw open the door, strutting down the hall. Despite no one being around, you feel like a glorious supermodel and the paparazzi are hidden in the corner, your idol waiting with a bouquet of red roses at the end of the aisle, an epic soundtrack playing to each of your steps. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is all you needed to be rich and pretty. Maybe he’ll finally look at y-

 “Y/N?”

 You whirl yourself around, heart stuttering inside your chest. “H-hey Hoseok. What are you doing?”

 The teenager is in a green sweatshirt, baggy jeans and breaking school rules by wearing a snapback hat indoors. He puts down his phone, stuffing the device and his earphones into his pocket and shrugs. “Bathroom.”

 You smile, covering your mouth with your hand. “You’re not skipping class, are you?”

 “Nah.” His hands dig around his clothing and he hums. “Do you have some change I can borrow? I need to buy something at the vending machine and I think I forgot my wallet at home.”

 “Oh, no problem.” You reach into your own pocket before taking out the tiny pink pouch that your aunt gave to you for your birthday. It takes a second until you take out a five dollar bill, lifting it up and into his palm. Your fingertips accidentally brush against his skin and you withdraw your limb like the movement burns you. Hoseok gives you a strange look but dismisses it.

 “I-I don’t have change, just this but you can keep it. You don’t have to pay it back to me.”

 The boy appears stunned and he furrows his brows. “Are you sure?”

 “Yeah.” You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear but realizing that it reveals more of your imperfect complexion, you downcast your head. Hoseok’s stare was becoming too intense anyways. “It’s fine.”

 “Are you going back to class?” he asks and you nod. “We can go together then.”

 “Don’t you need to use the washroom?”

 “It’s fine. I’ll walk you back.”

 “O-okay then.” It’s terribly awkward and you loathe yourself on having such inept social skills. If it were anyone else, they’d probably be able to find another topic of conversation and switch over smoothly, destroying the tense silence but alas, you are only a twelve-year old who has no such natural talent. “How are you? We haven’t talked in a while. What kind of classes do you have?”

 The subject that you do bring up makes you cringe inside.

 Who even wants to talk about school in their free time?!

 Hoseok seems to get an inkling of your inner turmoil since he rips his eyes away from the profile of your face to the end of the corridor, smiling to himself discreetly. “Y/N, we literally have the same classes together. We see each other everyday.”

 “Right.” You recoil, cheeks becoming warm with embarrassment. “Well, we might see each other, but we don’t really talk. You’re always sitting in the back of the classroom.”

 “And you’re sitting in the front.” The adolescent beside you laughs. “Who knew Y/N would one day become the smartest student?”

 “I-I’m not. Plus, I’m sure you get better grades than I do.” It was true, anytime the teacher asked you to hand back tests or quizzes, you snuck a peek at the grade marked in the corner of the page and for every single one, he either got a hundred or close to it. Most of your peers didn’t know but you did. “You’re the smarter one here, I suck at math and science and-.....Hoseok? Is there something wrong?”

 His eyes are fixated on your mouth. “No. You just have a little of pink right there.”

 He points to your cupid’s bow and you reach up, flustered and perplexed that he noticed the makeup you put on. You wonder if it’s bad or if it makes you even uglier than before. “Where?”

 “Almost. To the left a bit.”

 “Here?”

 “To the right. Up. No. Go down a bit. Here, let me do it.” Hoseok pulls you in with a gentle hand on your shoulder and his thumb on his other hand raises to your lips, rubbing away the colour. The touch is feather-light but from the mere proximity, you’re absolutely stunned at what’s happening. Your eyes enlarge, heartbeat pounding in your ears and your mouth fills with cotton.

 Whether he’s actually dense, or he knows the effect you get from him, he doesn’t make any comments. After a moment, Hoseok pulls away. “There. It looks pretty nice, by the way.”

 “T-thanks.” The pair of you walk the rest of the way in silence. It’s only when you’ve reached the classroom door that you notice he’s a few meters behind you, lingering and glancing at the ceiling. “Are you not coming in?”

 He hitches his thumb to the other end. “I have to grab something at my locker so you should go in first.”

 “Okay.” You watch his backside disappear slowly, counting each step the boy takes that increases the distance and leaves you farther away from him. Since when did he become so tall? You’re not sure but all you know is that there’s a feeling inside your chest, depriving from an unknown source and you inhale a breath, taking the leap of courage.

 “Wait. Hoseok.”

 He turns. “Hmm?”

 Perhaps it is destiny that has given you the bravery that you’ve lacked for so many years.

 “I’m sorry for not talking to you more. Sometimes it’s difficult since you’re friends with those guys and I’m-”

 You have no one. You’re not pretty. You can’t socialize well. You’re literally the most boring person on this planet. And you harbour a huge fat crush that inhibits you from making any interaction towards him.

 “We’re both in different circles.” Hoseok finishes your sentence and you laugh stiffly. That too. Yet, despite your self-consciousness and metal self-deprecation, he laughs happily and it alleviates the mood. “No, I get that. Don’t worry about it.”

 “I just think we should talk more. I kind of...miss….you…” You’re mumbling at this point, volume becoming quieter and quieter until it’s a squeak. You don’t even know what the hell you’re saying and your face is on fire. It doesn't help that Hoseok's gazing at you so intently without speaking a single word.

 “...that’s all.” To save yourself from further embarrassment, you quickly turn to the door, hand grabbing the door, ready to twist your wrist and enter inside.

 Except, you never get the chance.

 “Wait. Y/N.” Your old childhood friend has his hand wrapped around your wrist and if steam wasn’t leaving your ears before, now it is. “I lied.”

 “What?”

 “I didn’t forget my wallet. I don’t even need to buy anything in the vending machine.” He diverts his eyes, avoiding your stare and frown of confusion. “The rest of class made a mess, and then they ditched to go to the cafeteria. If you go back, you’ll get in trouble for sure.”

 Even with the delayed response from your end, you can only manage one single syllable. “What?”

 “I’m sorry for lying.” After his stupid classmates had ran wild, throwing paint all over the walls, flipping over tables and desks when the substitute teacher had walked out of the room, they all grabbed their bags and spirited away. The first person Hoseok thought about was you.

 You had left to go to the washroom, unaware of what was unfolding and instead of leaving with his friends, he wandered around till he found you. A sick, twisted part of him was curious to see how stupid and gullible you are - he wasn’t disappointed either. You believed him so easily, he didn’t even need to try. But what Hoseok failed to calculate was his own guilt and his weakness.

 You.

 “You can hate me if you want to, that doesn’t matter.” He reaches to grab the five dollar bill, and he slaps it back into your hands. “And you can snitch to the principal but don’t go back in.”

 “Hoseok.” A smile slips on your lips and you become sheepish. “I don’t hate you. Far from it actually. Just...I could never hate you. You’re still my friend.” Hoseok’s fingers still wrapped around yours, preventing you from entering the horrific classroom and the dollar bill in your other hand proves it so. “So, let’s go?”

 Your friend smiles, releasing his grip and grateful that you don’t want to kick his ass. “Last one to the vending machines has to buy!”

 A gasp sounds from your mouth when he takes off running and you laugh, shouting after him and probably disturbing all the other classes going on. “Hey! That’s so not fair!”

 //

 The class drones on and on. It’s absolutely unbearable. Heads are bobbing up and down, trying to stay awake while some have given up all together, sleeping on their desks with their heads rested in their folded arms. The teacher doesn’t seem to care, continuing with her lesson as it was planned.

 “Soulmates are a very peculiar phenomenon in our modern society today and many scientists have yet to discover the reason as to why since it isn’t very biologically efficient. It doesn’t seem like genetics or family history play a huge part, sometimes soulmates are outright opposites while other times they are very similar to each other. It may just be a psychological occurrence.”

 “All they have been able to conclude thus far is when soulmates meet, both parties experience a euphoria of emotions, each of them enhanced and the effects are very similar to some type of drugs out there. The love and passion are like none other. Typically, there are two types of soulmates that people can have. One, there is literally only one person that is your soulmate. Two, there are several people living in the world that could be your soulmate. It differs with each individual and again, no one knows the answer yet. Perhaps someday we'll know.”

 The only person actually listening is some guy at the front of the class. He raises his hand and the teacher calls upon him. “What about people who don’t have either?”

 “Ah...yes...those folks are...rare and far in between.” The teacher wears a melancholic expression, seemingly a bit uncomfortable with the topic. “People without soulmates can find companionship, but they most likely end up alone, in this life and the next and the next….”

 She concludes with- “it’s unfortunate.”

 Your forehead nearly smacks against the wooden surface of the desk as you’re lulled to sleep but your neck snaps back before you can hurt yourself. Fuck. You rub your eyes, screaming inside your head out of pure boredom. Then, an idea flickers inside your brain and you lean over to your friend sitting beside you in the other row.

 “Hey, I’ll make a bet with you.” At your voice, she perks her head up, eyes sparkling in interest. “Bet Mr. Min won’t visit Ms. Kang today. Five bucks, what do you think?”

 She smirks. “You’re on.”

 Lo and behold, the familiar blonde headed teacher sticks his head through the door, thankfully interrupting class and cracking a few jokes while shocking sleeping students awake with his cheerful voice. As Ms. Kang flirts with the chemistry teacher, your friend giggles while you pull out a crisp bill, handing it to her.

 “Okay, you win this time.” You sulk, looking back into your barren pocket.

 “I’ll bet you one more time.” Your friend grins, starting to have fun since class began. “If Mr. Min doesn’t stay for more than ten minutes, I’ll give you your five dollars back and an additional ten. But if he does stay for over ten minutes, I get ten bucks from you.”

 You contemplate the options, weighing each reward and consequence. It sounded appealing, not only would you get your money back but even more? Plus, Ms. Kang was actually teaching a full lesson today and there was a test tomorrow. Surely, he would leave, so she could continue addressing the class. You smirk at your newfound confidence. “You’re on.”

 In the next twelve minutes, you hand over more money.

 Your friend laughs her head off, clutching onto your stomach and you can only sigh from your multiple defeats. Another classmate turns around and asks what the two of you are up to.

 “We’re making bets.” Your friend wipes away the tears that have welled up. “Y/N keeps losing.”

 “Ooh count me in.”

 Someone else who was eavesdropping swivels around. “Me too.”

 The teacher is still chatting away with Mr. Min at the front of the classroom with a group of students while the rest of you wait in boredom. There’s nothing like an entertaining game with monetary prizes to liven up an atmosphere. “Who wants to bet that she’ll forget to hand out homework?”

 “Let’s bet to see if this paper airplane can go outside the window and into the classroom across from us.”

 “Bet that I can’t sneak out without anyone else noticing.”

 By the end of the hour and by the time the lunch bell has rung, your wallet is completely empty and everyone else has left to go eat. As you collect your belongings, stuffing markers and pens back into the pencil case, grabbing your notebooks and slinging your backpack around one shoulder, you can only hope that time will move quicker.

 “What are you doing?”

 “Oh, hey Hobi.” You smile, watching him grab his water bottle that he accidentally left near his chair at the back. “I’m fucking broke, that’s what.”

 He opens the door and you both walk out together. “You shouldn’t keep making bets with people if you’re always losing. Your gambling skills suck.”

 You exhale, having too many regrets and fearing what your dad will say when you ask him for a second allowance this week. The money from your summer part-time job was gone as well and all you can think of doing is sobbing on your knees, pleading about your penniless lifestyle. “I thought I could win my money back.”

 “Never go to a casino, you idiot.” Hoseok stops by his locker and throws his biology textbook inside. He closes it and walks diagonally down the hall to your own locker where you grab your gym bag for your next class after the bell. “You’d end up wasting your life savings away and you’d be living under a bridge.”

 “Isn’t that where we’re all heading anyway?”

 He laughs and swings his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close as you two accompany each other in synchronized steps. It’s a familiar gesture and you’re no longer flustered from being in a close proximity from Hoseok. The infatuation that plagued you during your preteen years has long disappeared.

 High School was a whole nother game, people dating more seriously and futures on the horizon. You couldn’t be very bothered to crush over an old friend when you were more preoccupied with getting into the university you wanted.

 “Why are you glaring at me?”

 “I’m not.”

 At this age, you thought Hoseok would reach his own ugly phase. Puberty tended to affect boys in later years but even at sixteen, the bastard is still decent looking. While you grew more into your skin, learnt to become comfortable in your body and appreciate your flaws for what they are, you expected him to go through a similar thing that you did back then. Yet, never in a day of his life did Hoseok have awkward limbs or bad skin or an awful haircut. Rather, his rounded cheeks were becoming chiseled, his jawline sharper and his hair gelled into a neat fashion.

 And for you, rather than admiring his handsome looks, you’re goddamn jealous of his genetics and beautiful face. Why did fate have to be such an unfair bitch?

 “You spent your lunch money, didn’t you?”

 On cue, your stomach grumbles and you give him a surprised look. “How did you know?”

 “Cause you don’t have any control.” Hoseok reaches over, pinching your cheek and you slap his hand away, cringing at the thought of his dirty fingers clogging your pores and giving you acne. “I’ll buy you lunch.”

 You halt on your toes. He turns around.

 “Wait. Really?!”

 The boy smiles, his grin loosely resembling a heart shape. His eyes crinkle slightly and a bubbling laughter spills from his mouth. “Yeah, but you owe me big time.”

 “When don’t I?” You smile, catching up to him and giving him a good old noogie. “You’re the best.”

 His smile becomes sheepish, and he gazes at you for a long moment, savouring in your touch and presence. “I know.”

 There was something strange about you. From the moment he had met you a decade ago and held out his hand, he always felt a tugging feeling in his chest, as if you were familiar, and he knew you from somewhere else, from somewhere far away. But you weren’t his soulmate.

 Such a thing was impossible for Jung Hoseok.

 //

 The world revolves around the concept of soulmates.

 You didn’t realize it until you became much older and you stepped out from the small schools that you went to, the same classes and circle of friends that shuffled together from one year to the next. College was a time when your world expanded ten folds, where you couldn’t recognize three quarters of your classmates, where campus made you lost every single day.

 It also opened to your eyes to the obsession that people had with soulmates; how some folks were absolute consumed with it, going out to bars to talk to strangers, testing to see if they were a kindred soul, having date after date, entering camps and exclusive clubs to seek out their match, downloading special apps on phones to search for their true love.

 One of the few questions that you were asked quite frequently was: ‘have you found the one yet?’

 Your answer didn’t matter as much as the pitying expressions, the words of consolation of ‘you’ll find one soon’ and how people told their own stories of how they accidentally ran into the person they were meant to be with, and they knew instantly at that second. They always said that no matter where you went, where you’d go off to, your soulmate would end up finding you.

 That’s how fate is supposed to work.

 Except it worked much differently for you- “I’m never going to find my soulmate, am I?”

 “What?” Your dad puts down his spoon, startled and taken back. The dinner table is silenced. “Who told you that?”

��“Some people just take a bit of time.” Your mom smiles to soothe your nonsensical worries. “I know it took me years to run into your dad.”

 You sigh, recalling the memory like it's imprinted to the back of your hand. “Grandma told me I'd be single for my entire life and the next.”

 “Dear…your grandmother was very ill before she died. She just didn't know what she was saying. Don't let it get to you.”

 “She told me that a long time before she passed away.” You look at your parents for an extended moment, holding your breath in your lungs. You're an adult now and you have a right to know the truth. “You guys know it, right? Can you please not lie to me?”

 “Don't give up hope, you hear me?” Your mother lectures, tone becoming stern and unyielding for any retorts or comments. “I don't care what the doctors, nurses and psychologists say or even what your grandma told you. You’ll meet the one.”

 She says it with such certainty, like she's declaring the sun will rise again. “And when you do, you’ll know instantly.”

 You've heard it a million times before, the way your friends have described it, you've even seen it with your own eyes. It's supposed to be a burst of electricity, where the heart stops and the breath gets caught. The universe is supposed to shine in brighter hues, becoming vibrant and louder; happiness will become euphoria and love will become a deepening and familiar companion.

 The gaping hole that individuals never knew existed will be filled. They will no longer walk alone. They'll feel whole. It's everything that Hollywood movies show except it's real. It's perfect. It's a rose-coloured world.

 And all you can do is roll your eyes each and every time you hear it.

 Some people are born without soulmates. There’s no rhyme or reason. It has nothing to do with the way you were brought up, the environment factors or your genetic material. Like some people are innately extroverted or introverted. There’s nothing you can do about it and that thought hurts you even more.

 Your world isn’t rose but a green-coloured world.

 “Wait! Wait for me! Please!”

 Despite your arm waving in the air, heaving breaths shouting through the sky, the bus pulls away from the curb, signalling into the lane. “Fuck!” Your arm tightens around the strap of your bag and you pick up your speed, racing with all your might. “Stop!”

 The heavy rain beats down on top of your head, rattling the inside of your skull. The surroundings have turned into a shade of grey, vision clouded with water droplets clinging onto your lashes, each step splattering puddles onto your pants. But it doesn’t matter that you’re being drenched as if you stepped into the shower. You’re late for class.

 If you miss this bus then you’re done for.

 “I’m here! I’m here!”

 Right where you’re mere meters from the bus’ door, your foot juts out for another leap but you miscalculate your environment and your front toes collide onto the metal pole bus sign.

 “OW! FUCKING SHIT!”

 Pain shoots up your spine and you’re forced to stumble, crouching over and clutching onto your dirtied shoe. The passersby with their umbrellas or under the bus shelter don’t bat a single eyelash and you are alone, under the rain, putting pressure on your wound. It feels like you’ve just broken your foot or a toenail was ripped off, that it’s bleeding in your sock. To top off the agony, like a cherry thrown on top of a sundae, the bus merges and drives off, disappearing in the distant fog.

 “Are you kidding me?!” You sob out to the crying sky, knocking your head back and letting your stubbed toes pulsate and throb inside your shoe.

 You don’t have an umbrella. Your phone is dead. There’s no way you can contact an Uber. Thus, all you can do is limp your way to school in the pouring storm, looking at the roads every so often for a taxi. Fortunately, fate isn’t such a nasty bitch when you catch a yellow vehicle driving down the street. Unfortunately, the taxi doesn’t see you in time and it drives past, too close to the gutter.

 The sewer water splashes like an ocean wave crashing on the shore and if you weren’t drenched before, now you’re soaking wet, drowning in rainwater and sewage.

 “Y/N?”

 A familiar and warm presence appears behind you. Their umbrella drapes over your head, shielding you away from the cold droplets and it patters on the green canopy instead. Instead of bursting into tears like you felt you should, a smile graces your lips. You’ve never been more thankful to have this person around and in your life.

 No matter where you go, he’s always able to find you.

 “Are you alright?”

 “I’ve been having the shittiest day, Hobi. Literally the worst.” You turn around with a massive pout, sulking at your situation and cringing at how your textbooks and laptop in your bag are probably wet as well. “But what are you doing here?”

 He hitches his thumb to the black car parked by the curb. “I was driving past and I thought I saw you. I stopped to make sure. Aren’t you going to be late for class though? Get in my car, I can drive you to school.”

 “A-are you sure? I mean, I’m soaking right now and I can just keep walking-”

 “It’s fine, Y/N.” He grins, patting your head to placate your worries, and he wraps his arm around your shoulder to support you to the toasty vehicle. His other hand is holding the handle of the umbrella, and he tilts it to cover you completely, letting the rain drizzle on his left side. Your old friend doesn’t seem that concerned about getting drenched and momentarily, the pain in your foot has alleviated. “I have class anyways. We’re going to the same place.”

 Before getting into the car, you shift your head to gaze into his softened, brown irises.

 Regardless of what troubles you face, the struggles that present itself, Jung Hoseok is always around the corner. He’s your truest friend, the one who has stood by you for the longest time and the man makes your heart sing soothing lullabies. Maybe you’ll never have a soulmate but at least you have him.

 “Thank you.”

 He grins and you’ve sincerely never felt more gratitude.

 //

 Falling in love with Hoseok is a complete accident.

 Sure, it might’ve been predictable to everyone else since all the cliché romance books and movies always depict childhood friends becoming lovers, unrequited loves and harboured crushes becoming reciprocated, happily ever afters emerging from the horizons. You just never knew it was going to happen to you.

 You might’ve been massively infatuated with Hoseok years ago but you thought you grew out of that phase. At the end of the day, he’s a good friend; someone who watched you pick your nose in preschool, when you shit yourself in kindergarten because you couldn’t control your bowels yet, the time he witnessed when you called your teacher ‘mom’. He’s been through it all, thick and thin, disgusting and all the rancid memories. Your family knows his, mothers that have become friends themselves and fathers buddies. Hoseok was supposed to be a brother to you.

 But lo and behold, you had to catch feelings.

 Fate was a cunning asshole.

 “Sorry for getting your car all wet. I was sitting in class dripping everywhere.” You wring out a bundle of your hair, the damp strands clinging to your neck in an uncomfortable fashion.

 Hoseok, from across the table, wriggles his brows up and down. “Oh, I don’t mind if you’re wet at all.”

 “Shut up.” You roll your eyes, playfully scoffing at the innuendo. Brushing it off, you set aside your laptop to look at your friend. “Thanks though. I think I would’ve been screwed if I had to walk.”

 “Jung Hoseok here to save the day again!” He gives a blazing smile, pretending to be a superhero as he does the superman pose. You laugh, and he lowers his fist, expression melting into a warmer smile. “But is your foot okay? You were limping.”

 You’re surprised that he noticed but you nod. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

 The library is deathly quiet on a Friday at nine o’ clock. There are only a few people sitting around and assistants shelving books. At twenty-one, it isn’t uncommon for your peers to be out at a frat house or crashing a venue around campus, getting wasted and grinding up on each other, maybe meeting ‘the one’ out on the dance floor or at the bar. Hoseok has especially made a name for himself in the years at college, dating around and being the life of the party.

 It’s not necessarily a bad thing but you’ve felt slightly alienated from him since you weren’t big on the whole partying thing. You’d much prefer to curl up on a couch, binging on Netflix and chewing on snacks in the comfort of your own home.

 “Why are you here? Weren’t you invited to any parties?”

 “Nah, I don’t feel like it. Why would I want to go to one when you’re sitting right here.” His greasy remark has you huffing out tiredly, and he giggles. “Plus, who would drive you home?”

 “I can take public transit, you know. It runs until twelve.” You don’t want to be a burden to Hoseok or make him babysit you like a little sister or a pet. If he’s here for the wrong reasons, it would hurt even more than if you were alone. “And aren’t you seeing Yoonji right now? You should probably be out with her instead of me.”

 “No, I’m not seeing her.” He resists the urge to pull on your puffed out cheeks. Hoseok leans his chin in his propped up hand, savouring your sulking expression. “I’m single actually, have been for a long time now. And also, if I hear that you got murdered on your way home or if you slipped on some water and broke a hip, my mom would never be able to forgive me. She’ll burn my entire manga collection and probably run me over with her car.”

 “Of course your mom would.” You stick out your tongue, intentionally ignoring what he said about not dating anyone. “She loves me a lot more than she loves you.”

 “Somehow, I don’t doubt that.” The man lazily flips through his textbook, barely skimming the pages and not reading correctly like how he should be. “Hey, Y/N.”

 “Hmm?”

 “Have you been seeing anyone?”

 Your head perks up from the document on your laptop and you give the most unimpressed expression, arousing laughter from the male. “Do you think I have? No one can love me - I’m unlovable.”

 That and you don’t have a soulmate.

 “That’s not true. I love you.”

 What. No. Wait. He probably means it in a brotherly-friendship kind of way.

 “Righttttt...” You bob your head up and down, narrowing your eyes and forcing yourself to dispel away all your delusional thoughts. “Well, I love you too.”

 “Okay, great.” He looks up from his textbook. “We should go on a date then.”

 “.....” There’s a pause. He waits patiently with a smile. You stare at him. “What?!”

 “It’s really convenient.” He quirks his head to the side, mischief glimmering in his orbs. “I love you, you love me. It works out. So, we should go on a date...unless you don’t want to.”

 “....I-I do but where is this coming from, Hoseok?” You lower your pitch, leaning closer as if someone from the ten tables over could hear. The situation unravelling before you is so sudden that you fail to wrap your brain around it.

 “What do you mean ‘where is this coming from’?” The male gives you a look. “Hasn’t it been obvious? I’ve liked you for years! And wow, I can’t believe you’re making me expose myself to you when you haven’t even bought me dinner yet.”

 He throws his arms over his chest, appearing vandalized but you’re in no mood for jokes.

 “B-but...but…” All those signs that you convinced yourself weren’t signs are actually signs?

 The endeared gazes, the overly affectionate physical contact, the lingering touches, the smiles and late night texts were all indications. Your mind is reeling from memories for the past decade, wondering if this or that was evidence for his hidden feelings. It feels surreal, like a dream.

 You fear if you wake up from it, reality and fate will be much crueler.

 “You don’t need to feel pressured, Y/N.” Hoseok stares down at his textbook, avoiding your eyes and becoming embarrassed about finally declaring his feelings openly to you. His voice is quiet but you can hear each word, carrying a weight that bears sincerity in each syllable.

 “You can say no if you want to, and we can go back to being friends. I just...I never knew if the feelings were mutual and the timing was always off. I tried to date other people but it...didn’t work out.”

 He takes a deep breath, put on the spot and pressured not to mess up. You’re an important person in his life and the last thing he wants is to scare you off forever.

 “What about your soulmate?”

 It’s the first thing that crosses your mind, a concern that is unbearable and one you can’t erase away. What’s the point of creating something more if he’ll meet his soulmate later on. You’ll be left in the dust, alone, forced to face the memories of ‘what happened but could never last’.

 But Jung Hoseok, being the person that he is, always manages to make your anxieties disappear.

 “You don’t have to worry about something like that.”

 It’s too simple of an answer. Yet, like the fool that you are, you trust in him. “Okay. Let’s go on a date then.”

 A grin spreads across his face, one that swells his cheeks and heart. “Right now.”

 You flinch when he suddenly slaps his textbook closed and you follow along, packing away your laptop and pens. Luckily, no one was really around to be angry over the disturbances the pair of you were making. “Right now?”

 Hoseok smiles. “Last one out the library has to pay.”

 Fate is too kind - and you realize so when you become aware that you were never alone.

 “You’re on.”

 //

 Each person born is destined for one or perhaps several. They’re fated to fall in love with their other half, a kindred spirit or soul, or a fragment of themselves. The love could be a whirlwind of romance rendezvous, a heated passion pressed between sheets or a comforting presence that makes home a true home. Each individual has a chance to make their heart feel full, their soul fulfilled and any loneliness is dispelled away.

 You have Jung Hoseok.

 He’s a friend and companion, a partner that you cherish. While one date becomes two and three and five until you’ve lost count, all you know is that soulmate or not, you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your days with him.

 “That movie was really good, like did you see the part where he came out of the space shuttle to confront her on the planet Neptune? Like wow, I thought he was going to die for sure but he risked his life for her. And then-”

 “Hoseok.” You stop in the parking lot of the theaters, twisting on your ankle to look at him.

 A sweet smile is still on his mouth, and he quirks his head to the side. “Yes?”

 “Can I kiss you?”

 The boy’s taken back and he laughs. “Where did that come from?”

 “I was thinking about it the whole day today.” You play with the hem of your sweater, diverting your attention elsewhere while you murmur softly, “We’ve been on so many dates, but we haven’t really done anything aside from holding hands…..”

 Albeit it was strange to date such a good friend, you still longed to get closer to him.

 Hoseok throws back his head like he’s in pain, and he whines. “I was going to kiss you later before you left but you beat me to it.” He pouts in defeat and then steps closer, cupping your cheeks in his palms with a softened smile. “Of course you can kiss me, Y/N. You don’t really need to ask.”

 Your eyes flutter shut and his close. Together, you move closer inch by inch until you can feel his lips on yours. A smile moves across your face, and he presses harder, tilting his head while you throw your arms around his neck. It’s nice but kind of awkward. The movement is foreign to you, though the pleasant tingles melt any tension in your muscles.

 Hoseok deepens the kiss, making a muffled sound leave your throat, and he savours your taste on his tongue. But suddenly, one moment you feel pleasure and the next, your head begins to throb.

 You don’t pull away, too addicted to his kiss. Then, there’s a burst of electricity.

 The flare rushes to your fingertips, heart stuttering, breath choking you. Underneath your eyelids, the universe halts and then begins to revolve again, faster, louder until it’s deafening and shining in such bright hues that it’s blinding. The happiness that rings through your bones becomes euphoria and love slaps you across the cheek.

 Maybe this is what people described when they meet your soulmate. But no. It’s much different from that.

 You are not so fortunate of an individual.

 An onslaught of memories, versions of yourself across centuries, comes barging through the door in screams. They shout and screech, begging to know as to what the hell you’re doing. The thumping of your head becomes white noise. You pull away from Hoseok like he burns you.

 The boy is as startled as you are, eyes wide, staggering back until he collapses on the concrete ground.

 “I-I remember…”

 You stare at him in sheer horror. “Fuck you.”

 Fate has never once smiled at you, it was cackling. Fate was never kind either, it was absolutely vicious. And instead of a soulmate, you have something much different. Jung Hoseok is a parasite that transcends time, destined to run each path that you take. He is an enemy.

 You’ve finally woken up from the dream.

[16th Century]

 A gentle knock on the door wakes you from your slumber.

 You sit up amidst the silk sheets and the hinges of the massive wooden door creaks. A servant maid peeks her head through the gap and the light from the hallway sheds into the darkened room. “Good morning, your royal highness.”

 “Is there a cause for your disturbance?”

 The tone of your voice rings above the high ceilings and the girl noticeably winces. She keeps her head downcasted. “Yo-your highness, the artisan has arrived.”

 “Is that so?” You hum a thoughtful note before snapping back at her, “then what are you waiting for? Help me prepare.”

 Immediately she enters and draws the heavy curtains away from the window. Sunshine meets your eyes and you find a smile emerging on your lips. She guides you off the bed, helping you splash your face with a cloth, combing your hair back and pinning it up with green ribbons and ropes of pearls. The lace corset is tied tightly around your abdomen, restricting your breathing but you endure it as you study the dress in the mirror. It’s a rather simple dress, a natural waistline and floor length, flowy sleeves and skirt, the jade fabric decorated with golden colours.

 “I think this is perfect, don’t you?”

 You twirl in front a few times and the maid smiles. “Yes, your highness. You look marvelous.”

 Upon being satisfied with her response, you address your servant one last time. “Do not utter a word to the king that I am meeting the painter, understood? If he asks of my presence, tell him I am in the study quarters.”

 “Yes, your highness.”

 The gardens are far away, across towers and courtyards, but you make it there in less than five minutes while hitching your clothing up by the fistful, running in the most unsophisticated manner that would surely cause scoldings from your mother. Yet, you continue on your way nevertheless.

 It’s only a strong gust of wind and an accidental misstep causes you to stumble. You are pushed to the ground, colliding onto the verdant grass, a shock rippling through your body. Immediately, you are shamed. Your knees are bruised, your gown soiled and palms stained with dirt. In the delayed second, as pain shoots up your bones, your bottom lip trembles, threatening to break out into sobs.

 “Do not cry, your highness.”

 You lift your chin and a tall shadow looms over you. The man wears no smile, an emerald circular cloak draped over his shoulders and an embroidered shirt underneath. His gaze is not cold but intense, yet, it does not make you waver or scared. Instead, your eyes follow his command, halting the tears that were to fall like raindrops.

 “Only infants shed such heart wrenching tears.” A soft smile appears across his lips, a fixated stare on your flushing visage but the serious man is the same age as you. His pitch black hair is more like a ruffled cloud, strands poking out in every direction and some paint has splattered on the skin of his cheek. “And I fear it would ruin your beauty.”

 He holds his hand out to you, palm facing upwards. You sniffle for a moment and then your arm reaches out, fingers clasping his and the male lifts you off your feet. The touch is soothing and light, causing your heart to soar inside your chest.

 “Don’t be foolish. I’ve never shed tears before you, understood?”

 You dust off your dress and he grins.

 “Yes, your highness.”

 The man tries to loosen his grip on your hand but fails to do so when you grasp at him tighter, lacing your fingers through his and not allowing him to let go. A snort of air leaves his nose, and he accepts the new position, guiding you deeper into the royal gardens with bushes of foreign flowers and tall trees lining the cobblestone paths, the scent of florals wafting through the air.

 Farther into the quaint and private place, a canvas is set around vivid oil paints and brushes. He has begun to recreate the image of the blooming orchards and you study the artwork that has yet to be completed.

 “My father has commissioned you as the royal painter but why have you not painted me?”

 Your dress twirls when you look at him again. Jung Hoseok, the man who creates another world with brilliant hues, passionately brushing strokes along the canvas, has been by your side for months and here he is once more, smiling at you.

“I cannot, your highness.” He lowers his head. “I fear that there is no paint I could use that would show how brightly your eyes shine.”

 You spin around to face the bushes, cheeks flaming with each praise. “Please, you flatter me too much, painter.”

 “Ah, but my words are too true, your highness.” He paces around and you lock your gaze upon his. “My skills would be no match to the reality of your beauty.”

 You sigh, longing to have the man closer. Each second and minute that passes feels too short.

 “Painter, I fear my lonely soul enjoys your companionship too much. It’s a shame that you were not born of a royal lineage. My father would never allow such a partnership. He would rather let this kingdom crumble than to give my hand to a commoner.”

“I understand your woes too clearly, your highness.” He takes three delicate strides to meet you in the middle of the grassy area, chest pressed upon chest and his fingers lightly skimming over your blooming cheeks. If anyone from the court were to catch you in such a position, the painter’s life would be at risk, but he seems to pay no mind to such thing.

 “And although I hunger to clutch your hand to my chest, embrace your being, declare you as mine and taste those lips with my own, we are but star crossed lovers.” He exhales, sorrow dripping from his honeyed eyes. “Fate is not so kind to folk like us.”

 You turn away from him in despair, staring up at the cerulean sky and wondering if the Heavens could ever grant you mercy in the name of love. “Eventually, I will be wedded off to somewhere far. The thought makes my heart ache in agony.”

 Your voice breaks and you plead with him. “Painter, would it be so shameful for me to ask you for a single kiss?”

 “Of course not, your highness.” He caresses your face and you melt within the touch. Your eyes shut and he leans in closer. “It is my duty to fulfill your wishes.”

 The kiss is the gentlest of touches, lips pressed upon lips, a bittersweet taste that cannot be savoured, a salty hint caused by your teardrop, the deepest of yearnings and aches for more.

 Why must fate be so cruel?

 //

 It is of the midnight hour when the maid comes barging into your room unwarranted without even a single knock. It startles you to the point where you spring up from your silk bed sheets, gasping and ready to reprimand her but the maid’s wheezes and the distant shouting stops you from doing so.

 You climb out of your bed, taking a robe and covering up your sleeping attire. “What is the matter with you? Speak!”

 “R-rebels have stormed the castle,” she weeps, grabbing onto your arm and falling to the ground, kneeling on the floor, crying and sobbing with all her might.

 The shock is delayed. “Pardon?!”

 The young girl shakes her head, trying to regain composure amidst the mournful grieving. “T-they have captured your m-mother a-and your father has been executed.” You stagger backwards, and she crawls to you, gripping the hem of your dress. “Run, princess.”

 She screams- “Run before they catch you!”

 There’s not a single thing in your hands but your life as you flee the castle walls. The rebels are shouting together, holding torches and capturing any royal member as they scour each room and rip apart all the walls. The knights have fallen, advisors and servants alike being severed of their heads. Blood pours down the courtyard and a couple of paces away from the forest, a misstep causes you to collide against the cobblestone, a cry befalling of your mouth, skin scraped and blood trickling from the wounds.

 A tall shadow looms over you. You lift your chin. The man wears no smile. His gaze is cold.

 You smile, sighing of relief and thankful that the painter is here with you. Perhaps, you can flee together and finally live the life that you’ve always wanted. Except, he does not lift out his hand to pick you off your feet, he bends his knees, squatting down and quirking his head as he stares at you.

 “H-hoseok, what is going on?” You begin to waver from the sharp intensity of his eyes. Any trace of warmth has disappeared, and he seems more amused that you have fallen than worried. “P-Please tell me. I’m s-so scared.”

 Tears seep down your cheeks like raindrops. He doesn’t tell you to stop crying.

 Hoseok smirks. The corner of his lip tugs in a menacing way and his fingers reach out to hold your chin. He leans in, placing a small kiss on the corner of your mouth, and then he parts, admiring the confused expression marring your visage. “Oh princess, you are too innocent for your own good.”

 Your voice does not come out strong but weak. “E-explain yourself.”

 “All of this couldn’t have succeeded without your efforts.” He gestures behind him to the castle, your precious home, that was now being set on fire. Screams of the maids and dukes ricochets to your ears, and he doesn’t allow you to cover them up or cower away.

 Hoseok forces you to watch the scorching flames.

 “Not only did you advocate me to the king and allowed me into the castle but you fell in love with me as well and offered yourself fully. Such a foolish yet endearing character.” He shoves you away and stands, dusting his hands off and watching you pathetically cry.

 “And you were right. Your father would’ve been so shameful to have a daughter like you who helped overthrow the kingdom. Too bad he’s already dead.”

 You can’t wrap your mind around it. All of this is too absurd. Surely, it must be a dream. Hoseok would never treat you this way. He would never betray your trust. You love him.

 “W-what?”

 “Do you still not understand?” He looks over to the symbol sewn on his clothing, the green mark of the rebels. Your stomach turns and vomit threatens to crawl up your throat. You claw at your skin, teeth gritted and jaw clenched.

 “Y-you...you liar.” You spit at him, each heavy syllable oozing of venom. “You wretched bastard.”

 Hoseok tips his head back and chuckles. “There is no use in sprouting such vulgarities, Y/N. A revolutionary is needed for the people. They are suffering in ways you will never know. Your ignorance is too great. Life isn’t generous outside of your castle of silks.”

 The betrayal is too much for your heart to bear.

 No amount of rage or sadness, fury or anguish could display the turmoil sewn into your soul, the heartbreak that shatters inside your chest. Jung Hoseok hovers above your small frame. He stares down at you. “But because you demonstrated such benevolence to me and made my job so simple, I will give you ten seconds. Run or the rebels will slaughter you without mercy.”

 Your fragile body hauls itself upwards and despite the screams of your bones, the faintness in your head that swirls the world around, you falter down the hill, racing into the forest. You abandon your people, your family and home, the love that you held onto. You will never forget.

 And you will never forgive.

 Jung Hoseok laughs and gazes at your form. It reminds him of a little sheep running away from a pack of wolves. He muses that it was truly a shame; a shame that you weren’t part of the rebels and merely destined to be star-crossed lovers with him.

 For the rest of your life, you live in the dirty alleyways as a peasant, scraping after other’s leftovers, bugs crawling in your hair and biting your skin, teeth rotting and clothes tattered up. You sob until you can no longer afford to expel water from your body and the short days of your life consists of recalling your warm family and the beautiful life you once had.

 When you die, the last thing you think about is Jung Hoseok and your undying wrath.

[17th Century]

 “Where is my notebook?”

 You’re scouring in the tiny room, searching among the stacks of parchment, quills and bottles of blackened ink, tugging up your wrinkled olive dress. You pull up the smooth narrow sleeves, wincing at the troublesome lace cuffs and you tug on the strings of the small bodice for more breathing space. As you scour your belongings, the bun that was tied to the back of your head begins to loosen and clusters of curls framing your face tickles your nose. The sweat at your forehead slicks down your face and your appearance becomes disheveled in your franticness.

 “My notebook….notebook.” You gasp underneath your breath, standing straight again. “Was it stolen?!”

 There’s a knock and a short laugh. “Did you lose something again?”

 A man in a white linen shirt, dark trousers and a navy coat stands at the doorway, hands held behind his back as he watches you fumble about. “Yes, it’s going to be the end of me, Hoseok, if I can’t find it.”

 “Well, lucky for you-” He takes a few steps forward and reveals what’s hidden behind his back, unbending both arms and presenting it out in front of you. Another gasp spills from your lips and your eyes widen from the familiar leather bound notebook. “-I found it.”

 You grasp at the pages, taking it into your hands and feeling the wrinkled pages full of scribbles and doodles made in ink. You choke out the words of gratitude, grinning so widely that your cheeks might burst and your eyes well up with happiness. “Thank you.”

 “Thank you. I-I thought it was lost forever.”

 The man opens his mouth to reply but you smother him in a tight embrace. Hoseok wheezes, making coughing sounds from the pressure of your arms, and he even mutters your name after a minute but you don’t let go of him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

 “You’re very welcome, Y/N.” He gently moves your arms from his back. “But you should let go of me.”

 If someone were to see, surely rumours would spread like wildfire. Folks in the village were already whispering of how he came and went inside your abode for hours on end and until the sun went down; a gesture such as an embrace would certainly be scandalous and soil your name.

 You comply, loosening your grip, and he slides away from you with a rather striking smile. “You ought to be more organized, Y/N. At this rate, you’d lose your head and I’d have to go looking for it.”

 A grin sneaks up your mouth. “That’s why I have you.”

 The man exhales, continuing on the other subject as you move away. “I hope you do not mind but on my way here, I’ve read the latest entries.”

 “And?” You settle yourself down in the wooden chair facing the windows, preparing a new bottle of ink to begin the next story. “What did you think?”

 “As usual, there was nothing amiss, quite good actually. Just, your spelling was horrible, Y/N.”

 “I know I’m rubbish at spelling.” You mutter underneath your breath, preoccupied with scribbling something down. After a moment, you sheepishly smile at him. “But that’s why I’m paying you to be my editor. If I were good at it, I wouldn’t need you.”

 “Oh, don't be ridiculous.” He jests in a playful tone, “you will always need me. What would you do if I was not around to remind you to eat once in a while and bathe? You'd be sitting in your own filth and rotting away in this home.”

 The two of you laugh together, admitting that he is not at all false.

 You were withdrawn, living on the secluded outskirts of the town. Not many folks desired to be acquainted with you since men frequently belittled your skills and women would rather discuss child rearing and gossip about the marriages taking place. You preferred to write and most considered that a bore and not an occupation at all. You like to beg to differ but that didn't mean you were free from loneliness.

 It was Hoseok that provided companionship, filling in the positions of what friends would. With his presence by your side, you no longer cared about the rude folks who would mutter behind your back. He is the reason you keep striving forward.

 “Speaking of which, I haven't seen you in a week’s time. What have you been working on as of late?”

 “It's a new story and a strange one but I cannot find it in me to shake it off.” Your eyes are blazing like sunlight. He considers the passion ignited within you is a very peculiar yet attractive trait of yours. “It's something I call ‘soulmates’.”

 His brows furrow. “What is that?”

 “It’s a kindred spirit in which upon meeting, there is a spark of..uh...lighting.” Your hands whip in grand gestures and you pace around the room in equal strides. “The primary character just knows that they will end up with that person and together, they will lead their lives until the next and next one. A person can have one soulmate or several, each a part of themselves that makes them whole. It is a kind of true love, an authentic companionship, a mate that matches your soul if you will.”

 “Perhaps I shall call the story ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’.” You whirl back around to face your editor. “What do you think?”

 The man hums. “I think you don’t have enough sleep and your head is up in the clouds again.”

 You sigh, stomping your foot once. “Must you kid around? I am sincerely ecstatic about the idea.”

 “I am only teasing you.” He smiles in a soft manner. “I think the idea is brilliant. If it is you who comes up with it, it always is.”

 “I know.” Your cheeks heat from his compliments and you inhale a lungful. “It’s a shame that not many people will hear about it. What did they say at the printing press?”

 Hoseok grimaces, hesitating on the subject and hoping that you wouldn’t have asked. But you urge him to go on and tell him that your feelings will be spared.

 “Seokjin won’t allow you. He doesn’t believe a woman has anything worthy to say.”

 “Of course. It’s always the same issue.” You’re defeated and at a loss of what to utter. “I know my writing isn’t horrible, especially with your help, dare I say it’s quite good. But in the world we live in, no one wants to hear what a woman would say, much less what a woman would write.”

 Hoseok gazes upon the profile of your visage. The efforts of your labour are evident in the way darkened circles mark the underside of your eye, the natural flush that kisses upon your nose. You are tired and it hurts him to see you this way. “Do you want people to read your work?”

 “Yes, more than anything.” You look outside the window, lost in a trance of a land that would offer a lady like you more opportunities. It’s a silly thought but a prevalent one. “I never cared for recognition or fame. I just want my work to be out there in the world.”

 There is a silence that hangs heavily in the air.

 “Y/N.”

 “Don’t feel the need to comfort me. I am aware that there is no use in contemplating such ridiculousness. My time is better spent putting my active imagination to better use.” You meekly smile, grabbing a new sheet of parchment. A thought brushes across your mind that perhaps if you wedded to someone of importance, your tales can be spread into different civilizations.

 But you have no interest in letting someone take your hand in marriage. Most men would rather you bear children for them than write all day in a room. You’d be better off remaining on your lonesome. But perhaps Hoseok would want to...no...such a foolish thought.

 You have an inkling that you will remain unmarried for the rest of your days.

 The end of your quill is dipped in black ink, preparing to begin another story and you scowl at Hoseok who remains impassive, staring at you at such an intense fixation. “Get back to work before I shake my spear through you!”

 He jumps like his trousers are on fire. “Yes, madam.”

 And the man laughs at your glare.

 //

 A few weeks have passed since Hoseok has bid you farewell, being excused from his duties to travel to his ill mother in another village. You were awaiting for his return but you’re finally drawn out of your home by the excessive noise at the town square.

 “What is going on?”

 A chubby lady with a rounded womb, ready to burst with a new child, chuckles happily and takes your hand. “Your editor, Y/N. Who knew he would be such a literary scholar?”

 “P-pardon me?”

 A new declaration is posted on the wooden board and everyone swarms, despite most being illiterate. The lady who caught wind of news repeats it to you. “Jung Hoseok has been commissioned by the state as the official writer. His play titled as ‘A Midsummer Night's’ Dream caught the eye of the Minister and now he’s published his work under the name of Shakespeare.”

 “E-....excuse me?!”

 You feel faint.

 “Oh, it’s so wonderful, Y/N.” The woman is ignorant to your bubbling wrath. “You should really give his work a try!”

 “That...bastard!” A handful of village folk turn around in shock at your curse and even the lady is taken back, letting go of you and gasping at your barbaric demeanor. But you pay no mind.

 You are too enraged of the lies, the deception, the deceit. Upon racing back home, you discover copies of your work all stolen, ripped away from your hands and name, forged and ransacked.

 And cursing out his name, damning him to the deepest parts of hell, does nothing to sedate the madness of resentments. You will loathe the name of Jung Hoseok until the day you die.

 //

Years later, when Hoseok returns, he receives news from the villagers. Not long after he had left, you suffered under a violent illness and died. He weeps alone as he reads your last written work, ink bled on old pages, a story of enemies and vengeance.

[18th Century]

 The hot sun beams down and sweat slicks down your forehead, coating your skin in a sticky sheen and mixing with the grime on your cheek, the dust clinging to your hair. You are weak from hunger but it’s a familiar feeling that strangely reminds you that you are alive.

 After working since dawn, you take a moment’s rest, blunt sickle in your hand, eyes bleary from the continuous labour. But what catches your sight is the lady of the house walking on the stone path, viewing all the workers and peasants wading through the endless fields.

 “She’s so beautiful.” You sigh in a dreamy manner, following her graceful figure glide by, her cream coloured silk hat matching with the gorgeous gown. Lady Jungha has always been a beauty since birth, powdered skin and rosy cheeks. She is an exquisite phantom, a fictitious being that’s pulled out straight from books. “If only I could look like her.”

 “Why are you so concerned with nonsense beauty?” Your friend stands straight, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “Hurry up and focus plowing the wheat fields or else we’ll have nothing to eat!”

 You downcast your head, griping a few words before exhaustion envelops your frame and you keep quiet, concentrating on your duties of a farmer.

 It’s only until the sun is beginning to dip across the horizon that you’re free from the grueling labour. Every part of your body aches as the day before and you only get a single loaf of bread to chew on, cowering beside your friend with a tiny fire that provides warmth inside the brick shack.

 “Y/N, could you fetch a pail of water?” Your friend rinses her face, shuddering from the coldness of the liquid. “We’re all out.”

 “Must it be me?” You sit up from your straw mat, peeking out the window and watching how the sun has fully disappeared. There is no doubt that in ten minutes time, the sky will be black and the moon will rise.

 “I beg of you.” She falls to the ground, suffering from a fever that’s been persisting for the past days. When you pleaded to the lord of the house to let her rest, he didn’t allow such a thing. Your heart only cries when you watch her in this much agony. “I’m not feeling well.”

 “If you must.” You nod, tucking a tattered blanket over her body. “I’ll be back soon.”

 The metal pail clanks as you rush down the dirt path to the well. You try to make it as fast as you can before it becomes completely dark and the nipping chills might lead you to sickness as well.

 But on your way there, with your head facing the dirt, on pure coincidence and on accident, you bump into the body of another person. “I’m so sorry-”

 “Um, pardon me.” He speaks in a sweet voice and you’re drawn upwards, looking the man in his eyes. His natural dark hair is parted to the side with a dab of hair wax, wearing a moss coloured suit; a silk cravat, coat and waistcoat to match. His breech, stockings and shoes are dignified, crisp clothes that show his wealth. “I apologize to interrupt you on your way but may I ask what household is this?”

 You glance over to the grand home towering high in the sky. “Why, this is the Jeon Household. Jeon Jungkook is the lord of the manor and of the land. Who may you be?”

 The man grins. “My name is Jung Hoseok, a traveller scholar.”

 “A scholar?” You smile, easing into the discourse. “That is rather impressive.”

 “Yes, well, I’ve retired to become a tutor and I’ve just arrived in this part of the country yesterday.” Hoseok takes a moment to admire the endless fields of the countryside and the peacefulness that lasts for acres upon acres. “I am afraid I lost my way.”

 You lift one hand to gesture to the path. “The road to the small village is this way and when you arrive at the riverside, leave to the right. There should be an inn there where you can stay at.”

 “Thank you.” He dips his head and before you can bid farewell, he steps forward. “Would it be unmannerly for me to ask you of your name?”

 There’s a second of hesitation, one where you lower yourself, facing the ground. It is shameful for someone like you to be speaking to someone like him, dashing looks and of higher status. You wish it were different but by your battered attire, you cannot lie. “I am L/N Y/N, a lowly servant and farmer to the Jeon Household.”

 However, the man is undeterred by your status and your soft whispers.

 “You are quite the beauty, Lady Y/N, if you do allow me to say. And...a bit familiar.” He gazes at you with a slight frown and finally rips away his eyes once you’ve blushed. Hoseok clears his throat in several harsh coughs. “Thank you for helping me this fine evening.”

 That night, you are unable to catch a single wink of sleep. Your mind is consumed by one single man.

 //

 The sun is falling once more. The wheat fields are tangling with each other, dancing to the warm breeze of the evening, birds chirping their songs before sundown. The fresh scent of the ground follows with the dirtied clothing on your body and you tear off your apron, neckerchief and white linen cap.

 “Where are you going?” Your friend watches you, chewing on her stale bread and bemused by your franticness. “Are you not going to eat?”

 “I will be back soon enough.” You re-lace your stays to hug your frame tighter, dusting off the deep emerald fabric of your petticoat. It’s a shame that you cannot afford a powdered wig or powder for your skin but you make do with what you have, pinching your cheeks for a rosy complexion, brushing your hair to the back of your head and decorating it with a few flowers you had pulled from the side of the path.

 “Why are you trying so hard to look beautiful? You are aware that no one pays no mind, especially to us peasants? They’re all too concerned about themselves to look at us.”

 You know that your friend does not lie.

 No matter what you do, the reflection in the mirror mocks your efforts. Your skin is itchy and of a sickly colour, burnt from being in the sun, the foul stench of labouring in the fields all day follows even after bathing, fingernails blackened from the dirt, the lack of food make your cheeks hollow and bones frail. A pitying gaze from your friend causes you to look away.

 There’s nothing you can do, no amount of colour, pinching or flowers could make you look anything more than ugly. You can either look like the peasant girl that you were born to be or a pathetic court jester - you’re not sure which is worse.

 Yet, you hold your head up high.

 “You don’t understand. I-I’ve met someone.”

 Your friend lowers her bread and stares. “You met someone?”

 “Last night and I can’t help but feel like,” a hopeless sigh spills from your lips, “like he may be my soulmate.”

 Such a concept as soulmates is something that came from a famous book that you heard about once. The writer was a marvelous one, plays and street performances coming from the story and even to this day, countless philosophers are debating the idea that each person may belong to another or select few, created by the so-called ‘fate’.

 “Oh, Y/N. You are too naive.”

 You smile at her. “Believe in what I say, I have a good feeling about this man.”

 Before she is able to ask more questions, you have already left. As fortune may have it, tracing the steps of yesterday, a familiar man stands near the path, admiring the beauty of the endless fields. He turns around at the sound of your huffs and smiles.

 “Is this a coincidence or done on purpose?” He waits patiently for an answer and recognizing how you are flustered by the question, he grins. “I do hope it is the latter for I was also hoping to see you again.”

 Your cheeks flush and a smile holds itself on your face. “Your desire is mutual.”

 The dusk light fills the sky and you pace alongside him, strolling together aimlessly without a place in mind. Simply, you are enjoying his company. “Have you always worked here?”

 “Yes, my parents were also servants for the Jeon Household. It was in my place to continue their duties.” You study the side of his face, chiseled jaw, sharp nose and all, before realizing the rudeness of your actions. “And you? Were you always a traveling scholar?”

 “Ah no, well, I am a tutor now.” He chooses each word carefully and his utterance of the words are gentle. “I am in search of a suitable job. Do you know if there is anyone in the Jeon Household in need of a tutor?”

 “Well, the lord of the house is very educated already.” You’ve always known that lord Jeon has been kind to you and your parents. There were many stories that surrounded him. “He is old and unfortunately a widow. He does have one daughter, however. The lady of the household, Jungah. She’s only nineteen years of age and very beautiful.”

 “Oh.” Hoseok stops to feel the breeze kiss upon his cheeks. It cards through his locks and you watch while in an enamoured state. “Is the lady of the household betrothed?”

 “Not that I know of. Perhaps the lady will need a tutor. I-...” You lower your head, trying to remember your place in the world as a lowly servant. “I could arrange a meeting for you if you wish.”

 “That would be splendid, Y/N. Thank you.” He beams like the sunshine itself and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. But upon realizing that it reveals more of your imperfect complexion, you downcast your head. Hoseok’s gaze was becoming too intense as well. He muses, “You really would be more suited to a bustling town.”

 “A town?”

 “The world has changed, Y/N!” He throws open his arms as if he welcomes the entire universe inside of them. “It’s developed. Such things as working for a lord of the land and barely having enough to eat, people are no longer living in such ways. More and more are leaving the countryside to work at these factories. You can buy food, a warm house, anything you want.”

 He faces you. “It’s wonderful, really. You wouldn’t believe it. You have to see it with your own eyes, Y/N.”

 You smile at his riveting energy but your expression turns to sorrow. “I can’t just leave. They own me here.”

 “I can help you.” Hoseok declares to the rising moon. “I can help you get away from this farm.”

 You gasp, stepping forward. “R-really?”

 “Yes, I have a friend who sells cattle. All you must do is lay on the barrow and let yourself be taken to the border. It’s never been more possible.” His eyes twinkle, brighter than the stars setting above your heads. “All my friend needs in order to agree is ten golden coins.”

 “T-ten?” You reach for your pocket that is weightless. They don’t give you earnings for your work - the food is already the pay. “All I have is four.”

 The man hums in contemplation. “Well, you can give me the four now and when you come up with the other six, I’ll let him know.” You scour your dress to reach inside the pocket, collecting your entire wealth into your hands. “It’s for a better life, Y/N. I want you to be happy.”

 “Thank you.” Your fingers brush against the skin of his palm, letting the golden coins drop into his hand and a strange emotion tugs inside your chest.

 After bidding farewell with the tutor, you watch his backside disappear slowly, counting each step the man takes that increases the distance and leaves him farther away from you.

 //

 Eventually, in three days time, you catch the gracious lady on her morning walk, and she finds interest in the man you describe. Hoseok expresses his gratitude as another meeting is arranged for him to address the lord of the house and it doesn't take long for him to be hired as the official tutor for Lady Jungha.

 You find that the pair of them, Hoseok and Lady Jungha, have taken a liking to each other, often smiling and glancing while strolling at dawn. But your friend insists that your mind is merely running wild again and such a relationship would be scandalous to the Jeon name. For reasons you are too shy to admit, you hope it is true.

 Each evening, you stroll together with Hoseok, mindlessly speaking and letting time trickle away without a notice. You see him frequently, especially since he now lives on the land as well. And the feelings within your being are only festering day by day.

 Except, one night, you cannot sleep well.

 “Where are you going?”

 Your friend lifts her head as you shuffle on outwear, brushing back your hair and leaving it unkempt. “I’ll be back soon. I need to make sure of something.”

 Today, as you waited on the same path, Hoseok never showed up.

 As improper and rude as it may be, you sneak into the manor like a shadow, slipping through the familiar corridors and hallways, past empty rooms and studies. Surely, if you were to be caught, you would be punished; perhaps days of food taken away from you or you would be forced to work the entire field during the night. But you cannot shake off the worry that plagues your mind.

 It’s not like Jung Hoseok breaks his word. He is a man of dignity and respect-

 “Hhmpph...mmp-h…” A muffled whine causes you to halt and you turn to the lady’s room, the door slightly parted and enough for you to peek inside. “Wait...w-wait.”

 There are two shadows on the bed and you narrow your eyes, barely able to see with the moonlight coming through the glass windows. But you recognize the voice immediately. “What’s the matter?”

 “M-my father,” Lady Jungha pants a breath, laid down beneath the man, “if he finds out about us, I’m scared of what he would do to you.”

 “My lady, are you not aware I would readily endanger my own well-being for you?” He places a kiss on her lips, the sound of smacking skin echoing in the quiet room. Your heart drops. “Your beauty is unadulterated, the most magnificent in the land. You are but a fragile flower and your mind of absolute brilliance. Never have I had such a student. No one compares to you.”

 He strips of his shirt, allowing the fabric to flutter to the ground. His large, coarse hands slink up the lady’s legs, pushing up her silk nightgown until it pools high above her chest. He removes her undergarments and you spin around, back hitting against the wall, teeth sinking into your bottom lip and breaking the skin.

 “Let me reward you. Let me take care of you.” His voice is soft and sweet, dripping of luscious honey and you fear that you will spew the little contents in your stomach out. “You don’t need to be afraid.”

 There are more groans and whines, kisses pressed and skin slapping on skin. The vulgarities and lewd sounds sends a warm wash over your body and you swallow hard, finding it difficult to walk away. “Okay, take me, Hoseok.” The young lady giggles quietly. “I allow you to defile my innocence.”

 Your hand covers your mouth to hide the breaking sob and you run as saltwater clouds the surroundings.

 “Is there something the matter?” Your friend shifts over the straw mat, shaken from her slumber and your sudden appearance.

 “I’m well. Thank you.” You face the dirtied wall, holding your palm to your lips, weeping into your hands until the exhaustion of your labour from the day has taken hold of your mind.

 //

 The sunlight does not seem bright anymore.

 The hard work and plowing of the fields offers a sense of odd fulfillment. The repetitive motions and slick sweat sticking to your face brings you down from the clouds to the ground. You remember who you are: a lowly servant who will never be anything more.

 “I believe I will take the hand of Lady Jungha in the days to come.” Hoseok tells you one evening as you both have stopped to stare out at the endless countryside. You’ve learnt to find sorrow within these walks now.

 “Is that so?” You offer a kind smile, sincerely ecstatic for the man. Despite his mere status, he is a good match for the lady of the house. They are both of beauty and dashing looks.

 “If it were not for you and your efforts, I would not be standing here today.” Hoseok grins, hands behind his back and spine tall. “One day, when I become the lord of the land, I will set you free.”

 You bow your head. “Then it would be my absolute honour, Lord Hoseok.”

 The man grins at the new title and your heart aches as you watch him stride away, increasing the distance and disappearing away from you.

 True to his word, in a month, he has taken Lady Jungha’s hand. It happens too quickly for you to fully understand, the wedding coming and going within a blink, and you simply focus on working the fields, having enough to eat after each day, working hard to obtain six more coins.

 In due time, the strolls with the man diminish until there is nothing left. Yet, what surprises you is the sudden illness of Lord Jungkook and his succumb to the mysterious disease. It is overnight that Jung Hoseok becomes the main land owner and master of the household.

 “Wake up! Wake up, peasants!” Horrific metal is rattled on metal, shocking you out of slumber and you awake, rubbing at bleary eyes. Your friend is in a similar state of confusion, exchanging a glance at you before she gets up, grabbing a cloak to cover her nightgown.

 “How dare you intrude into a lady’s quarters?” You gasp at the men who barge and kick down all the doors of the little huts. The stranger simply laughs at your scoldings and roughly grabs your arm, hauling you outside against your will and throwing you to the dirt. You yelp and your friend comes rushing to your aid, covering you with your own cloak.

 “Take all their belongings!” The men shout and the other servants are torn away from each other, children, women and men alike. “Rip down everything!”

You watch as they scour your tiny room for the little things that you have, a pot of water and straw mat, perhaps a stack of wheat in the corner. You stagger to your feet and a familiar figure stands by the side of the road, gazing out at the wide countryside.

 “Lord Hoseok, I plead with you to tell me what is happening.” Behind him, your friends and their families are screaming, homes torn apart and fires flickering your shadows on the ground. “Why are you treating these poor servants this way?”

 “Oh, Y/N.” There is something strange about the man. His kindness and benevolence has long left his soul and his smile frightens you. “I am selling the land.”

 “Selling the land?! What-?” You are befuddled and baffled. “Does Lady Jungha know about this?!”

 The corner of his mouth lifts, and he locks his eyes with yours. “The lady is bedridden in grief from her father’s death. She cannot sleep or eat and is no longer a wife to me. I have plans to send her to an asylum to get better.”

 “P-pardon me? T-that cannot be true!” You shake your head until it rattles and you can’t see straight. “That must be false! I have to see her for myself-”

 Hoseok clutches your wrist in his hand. “You will do no such thing.”

 A sick, twisted part of him was once curious to see how foolish and easily persuaded you are. He isn’t disappointed. You believe him so easily that he does not need to put forth effort. It nearly spoils the fun and amusement for him to trick you. You almost awaken a sense of guilt within him. Almost.

 It strikes you like a slap and your eyes widen. “You are not a scholar nor a tutor are you?”

 “And you realize so too late.” He lets go, applauding for the little wit you have left. “I lied.”

 Your stomach churns. You feel sick. “Who are you?”

 “A swindler who was once a peasant like you.” His gaze softens a mere tad. “I never once harboured feelings for the lady of the house, I was only trying to gain wealth. You can hate me if you want to, that does not matter.”

 “You are the truest demon that I have met,” you spit out in rage, “and hell has opened its doors for you.”

 He leans his head to one side, chuckling and laughing at the sudden insults. “Are you really so naive, Y/N? Are you not tired of licking the shoes of people who are of higher status? But I must say, if it were not for you, my scheme would have never succeeded. And for that, I thank you.”

 Hoseok reaches into his pocket, taking a single coin, one that you had given him, and he slaps it back into your hands, closing your palm so you can keep it safe.

 You shake with wrath, your entire frame rattling and knees threatening to buckle to the dirt. With the little strength you have left, you throw the coin as far as you can into the fields. Hoseok chuckles again and you prepare to launch over, maul his face with your dirtied fingernails. But his men grab your arms too soon, restraining your limbs and forcing you to kneel.

 “I-I hate you! I spite you! Damn you, Jung Hoseok! Damn you!”

 “What do you want me to do with this girl?”

 “Take her and sell her for the best price.” Hoseok waves his hand, dismissing his men and bidding you a final farewell. “She is rather valuable.”

 You’re thrown into a wooden cage, trapped and hanging onto the bars as the horse drags you elsewhere. You scream and shout but the man does not spare a single glance. You watch his backside disappear slowly, cursing each stride he takes that increases the distance and leaves you farther away from him.

[19th Century]

 “Are you looking for something?” A rounded woman emerges from the back of her market stand, sweeping your frame up and down to guess the wealth you have.

 You’re in a fitted linen shirt and dark green woolen skirt, belt wrapped around the natural waist of the simple ensemble and bonnet decorating your pinned up chignon hair. You look like a well-off peasant, not a customer who could pay for much, but it is a fairly good front since you’re actually penniless.

 “No, I’m just looking for now.” You smile softly and the woman huffs out in annoyance, spinning around to address some other folks who have gathered on the other side. As her back is turned, your fingertips run against the selection of green flower brooches, the gems sparkling in the sunlight.

 You slip one into your sleeve and walk away.

 The women wandering about the market are adorning full, bell-shaped skirt dresses, petticoats with frilled hems, hair in tight curls framing their face and maybe a long time ago, you would be envious of such beautiful clothing but it does not concern you anymore. There’s much more important business to attend to.

 The bustle of the crowded streets and children running at your feet is suffocating and you make a left at the alleyway, sliding the brooch from out your pocket and attaching it on the woolen shawl draped on your shoulders. It looks much better this way. You’re ready.

 Another left, another right, going deeper and deeper into the dirty alleyways that run with rats and of the poor pleading for money - eventually, you make it to the pine painted door, a dingy and discreet place in the corner that already smells of tobacco from the outside.

 You kick down the door. The chaos inside stops.

 “Men!” You smirk at their confused expressions. “Your real competition is here.”

 As a woman, it may be ungenteel to hike up your dress, put your boot on the table and shoot dice while hollering and screaming with the opposite sex but why should you feel ashamed when you are dominating and winning all bets?

 “I’ll bet one more time.” Your opponent, Min Yoongi, slaps down a hefty sack of golden coins. The others cheer, the entire room having all gathered around your table and watching the dark horse snaring victory after victory. “If the dice makes it even, I get my earnings back but if it makes it odd, I will give you the rest of this.”

 You contemplate the choice, weighing the reward and consequences. It sounds appealing, especially when everyone is howling for you to take the deal. In the end, you smirk at the newfound confidence. “You’re on.”

 The dice is thrown. Each person holds their breath.

 In the next twelve minutes, you’ve completely ransacked the place dry of their money. And you laugh your head off, clutching onto your stomach and cackling while the others can only sigh at their humiliating, multiple defeats.

 “Where did a woman like you learn how to gamble?” Yoongi sips from his glass of rum, eyes studying you carefully.

 “Ah.” You smile at him. “But there is your mistake. Woman or man, ‘tis true they are different but not so much. You would be a fool not to look at me as your equal opponent.”

 You’ve seen things that others would faint at; held a gun within your hands, fired shots into the sky, sailed seas with pirates until you found a home here. Yoongi grins. “A fool I am indeed.”

 “Hey!” A piercing interruption at the back causes all heads to turn. The bulky man watching from earlier is holding the dice within his hands, frown decorating his ugly face and rotting teeth. “This dice is fake! It’s not ours!”

 At once, all necks crane towards you.

 They stare. The large men, brawny arms and thighs, bruises lining their skin, red fists and faces becoming scarlet begin to take slow steps forward. Yoongi has his eyes widened, mouth drawing open. You sheepishly smile. And…

 You make a run for it.

 “Get back here!” They dive over wooden tables and stools, tripping and falling, glasses of rum and cigars abandoned, thrown onto the ground. By then, you’ve already yanked open the door, being chased down the alleyway. “She’s a swindler!”

 “A cheat!”

 The horde of men races after you but are no match for your agile legs and speed. You even laugh to further mock them, dashing through the dark alleyways, past the poor and rats, clutters of rubbish and dirtied children. It’s like a peasant parade, a grand crowd following after in shouts and screams and you are their gracious leader.

 “I prefer con artist!”

 You make it to the main street again, knocking over stands and throwing over tables to slow down the angry men. Women scream, men exhale in surprise, children darting away from your form. They trip and stumble, pushing their way through the mass of people. “Give back our money!”

 “Sorry but no thanks!” You hold up a heavy sack of coins above your head with a tinkling laugh, shaking the coins inside to further taunt them. “I need this more than you!”

 The police squadron has noticed the ruckus in the area and has begun running after the ruffians, blowing their whistles and commanding them to stop. You hope they catch the criminals so that you may be spared but if they’re caught, you would be too. People like you are never caught.

 The whistles are blown. “In the name of the royal family, halt immediately criminals!”

 The men continue to run after you. “Kill her!”

 “That’s a bit severe, is it not?!” You’re out of breath, painting and heaving for air.

 You know you won’t last long now. Hence, there’s no other choice but to turn the corner into another street and immediately, in the empty area, you place yourself into another narrow alleyway. “Where did that whore go?!”

 You gasp in offense, muttering quietly, “I am not a whore.”

 The incoherent grumblings quickly turns into a scream when someone suddenly seizes you, their hand yanking your arm but the sound is muffled as a palm is clasped over your mouth and you’re pressed against someone’s firm chest. You pull away from the stranger.

 He smirks. “Caught you.”

 You shove his fingers off of your body, snatching the collar of his fine coat and hauling the man deeper into the shadowed depths of the alleyway. “Jung Hoseok-” You push him to the wall. “-What are you doing here?! How?!”

 The man looks off to the other end that is lit by the sunlight, the unsuspecting thugs rushing past and officers following their tails. “I see you haven’t shaken off your gambling habits.” The son of the loan shark corners you with his larger body. “You still owe my family many loans.”

 “Damn you.” Your teeth grit. “Fine, be as it may, take me to your debtors’ prison.”

 “Good. It would be best if you follow me-”

 In an instant, your shoes have twisted upon the gravel and your heel meets the dirt as you lob your body to the left, ready to take down the alley for yet another chase. But you fail to consider Jung Hoseok’s own agile skills, and he grabs your waist before you’re able to dash.

 “Must you always run?”

 The hot breath tickles against the shell of your ear and you scowl, curses to be spewed on your tongue, but he spins you around and throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

 You scream. “Put me down, bastard! I am a lady!”

 “You aren’t.” He rudely smacks your ass, sending a jolt up your spine and you’re silenced in bafflement. The man makes his way on the opposite road of the chaos, into a quieter place with fewer folks wandering about. “And if you do not follow me, I will throw you to those rancid men. Would you like that better?”

 “I despise you.”

 Hoseok smiles, satisfied to see your more compliant behaviour. You decide that you’ll allow him to continue carrying you this way. You’re tired anyhow, legs sore from the race and at the end of the day, he is wasting away his own energy by hauling you there.

 “You shouldn’t keep making bets with people if you choose to con them. One day, you’ll be beaten to death.”

 You scoff loudly. “I am going to win in order to pay all my debts back, foolish man.”

 “Gambling never works, haven’t you learnt? You’d end up wasting your entire life savings away and living by the city’s sewers.”

 “Isn’t that where we’re all heading anyway?” You rest your hand on your cheek, propping your elbow on his broad backside. There are people staring at you, couples cowering away in disdain. You wonder if they’re soulmates.

 Soulmates - the idea that a kindred soul has been fixed for each individual are not only in stories anymore but in real lives. Folks have supposedly begin recognizing an odd burst when they meet their other half. It’s a ridiculous phenomenon. You couldn’t care less about soulmates. What matters is wealth.

 Wealth would help you, free you, give you a better tomorrow. You’ve lived this entire life alone and it is no doubt that for the rest of it, you will continue to be by yourself. There is no one trustworthy - it took you too long of a time to learn that.

 “I’m not naive anymore.”

 “Good.” He laughs, finally setting you down on the property, swinging his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close as he guides you inside the building, down the familiar halls. You shove his limb off with an ugly scowl, and he smiles. You accompany each other in synchronized steps, the surroundings too familiar for your liking.

 Jung Hoseok is a man with short, black, tousled hair. He wears a double-breasted frock coat and long trousers, a luxurious attire considering the family he comes from. You hate it even more that he is a rather dapper young fellow.

 “This is for your own benefit, Y/N. You don’t even have any money for food. At least if you stay at this place, I can bring you some bread to eat and you have warm shelter.”

 You step inside the cell, and he locks the door with a brass key.

 “This place is cold and horrid,” you cry out. “There are rats and fleas everywhere! You think I could stay here?! You’d be leaving me to die!”

 He smiles at you through the gaps of the metal bars. The stone floorings and walls barricade you in. “I will bring you a blanket and you can make do.”

 You spit with all the fury and rage festered in your soul, “Do not act like you care for me!”

 “Don’t mistake my pity for generosity then.”

 “Damn you, Jung Hoseok.” You grip the cold bars that trap you, screaming after his retreating form. “I loathe you with every last breath in my body!”

 He turns from a little way, figure engulfed in the darkness of the hall. “If it helps, I share my own hatred for you. You make my job a lot harder than need be.” A small smile holds on his face and you see it all too well. “Just sit down and begin separating the strands of rope in the basket. Enough of it and in a few years, you might be released.”

 You curse him to hell and back.

 //

 The sunlight coming from the barred window is always hot in the hour of twelve. You’ve noticed this before a ways back but thought nothing much of it. Today, it makes all the difference.

 You’ve collected the leaves and grass from the corners of the cell, cringing and sobbing out when you accidentally brushed your hand in rat feces, a dead rat and maggots eating at the decaying flesh. But alas, after wiping your fingers on your tattered clothing, you continued on your quest.

 It took a while to break the wooden basket and carve out something decent but you managed with the little fork Hoseok gave you to eat. It’s all thanks to him that you can do this.

 “Come on now.” You murmur, rubbing the two wooden sticks against each other on top of the pile of grass, leaves and rope. There’s a puff of smoke and sweat builds at your forehead as you work your arms back and forth. “I beg of you…”

 The sunlight helps to ignite the tiny flame and a smirk spreads into your cheeks.

 You nurse the fire as quietly and quickly as you can, throwing the bundles and bundles of rope that was prepared for you to separate into the light. As the fire crackles, meeting the height of your waist, you take the stool, standing on top of it and you throw yourself over the tiny ledge.

 Using the motion, you kick the bars of the window loose and you throw your legs out. The height of the drop is survivable. But before you can make your escape, pattering footsteps echo through the hall. “Y/N?!”

 Hoseok stands back from your cell in dreaded horror. “Bloody hell, you started a fire?!”

 “A good distraction, eh?” You smirk at his glare. It was always within the con rule book to create distractions and delay the enemy. “I suppose this would be a good time to bid you adieu.”

 He calls your name over and over again, gripping the iron bars that separate the two of you.

 “You know no matter where you go, I will find you?!”

 “Aww, if you were not an enemy, that would almost sound romantic.” You give him a flying kiss, lips smacking against your palm and gestured out to him. He frowns and you give a wink, a cheerful giggle as well. “Goodbye, Jung Hoseok.”

 “Y/N!”

 And you slip out the window, right out of his grasps, running as fast as you can.

[20th Century]

 Even as the threat of war breathes down your neck, threatening to grab hold of your lungs and smother you in all its horror, soulmates still run rampant through the streets, slaughtering each sliver of hope you have left, strangling the happy life that you want so desperately.

 “You haven't found…” Your friend leans close as if sharing a secret. “...‘the one’?”

 The world revolved around the idea of soulmates. It hit civilization like a ship’s cannon, sudden and full of impact. Now, it was all girls could giggle about and boys could fantasize. Folks would be absolutely consumed with it, parents pairing their children and friends’ together and hoping for that burst of electricity that could only be shared between kindred souls.

 One of the questions you were asked insistently was: ‘have you found the one yet?’. Your answer didn’t matter as much as the pitying expressions, the words of consolation of ‘you’ll find one soon’ and how people told you their own story. They always said that no matter where you went, where you’d go off to, your soulmate would end up finding you. That’s how the scientists and teachers, old philosophers and stories, the newspapers said it.

 That’s how fate is.

 “What if I just don’t have a soulmate?”

 You exhale a breath towards the sky and your friend looks at you in astonishment. “Who told you that? Plus, no scientist has said such thing yet. Everyone has a soulmate! Some people just take a bit of time, Y/N. You’ll find someone soon, I just know it.”

 She says it with such certainty, as if declaring the sun will rise again. “And when you do, you’ll know instantly.”

 You’ve heard it a million times before, the way your friends have described it, you’ve seen it with your own eyes. Yet, your own faith and hope are dwindled.

 “Isn’t there more to life than finding your soulmate, getting married and having children?”

 You’re not sure where this is all coming from but perhaps it is the resentments of your universe, how your parents have constantly shoved the ideas of romance and matrimony down your throat since you were a child. When you look around, women are glowing from pregnancies or branded with a ring on their finger.

 “What if I want to go to university instead?”

 “Are you ill?” She nibbles on her bread. “Why are you speaking such nonsense? Y/N, this is the Great Depression and I know your own family is well off but people don’t even have enough to eat.” Your friend shakes her head, scoffing at the ridiculousness of your words. “School...and for women? What kind of place would ever accept that?”

 You don’t respond. She sighs.

 “Y/N, don’t you want happiness and to feel loved? We don’t have many choices other than those things. So, keep your chin up and don’t give up on the idea of soulmates just yet.”

 It’s a rose-coloured world. Everyone sees the universe in blazing shades, laughing and grinning even at such a poor time. They see the glass as half-full, each failure an opportunity to learn, pouring of optimism. They beam with love and happiness, holding hands and sharing kisses.

 Yet, you don’t feel like you are flushing with rose. You are green. A monster of envy.

 //

 The heavy rain beats down on top of your head, rattling the inside of your skull. The surroundings have turned into a shade of grey, vision clouded with water droplets clinging onto your lashes. Each step you take splatters puddles onto your house dress, a kelly-coloured, floral, cotton hand-me-down from your mother.

 You’re drenched from head to toe, squealing before taking shelter under a closed flower shop.

 You don’t notice the person who you’re caught in the rain with, the individual that was already there and lifting their hand out to catch the droplets, staring up at the clouds and considering how much longer the storm will take. “Looks like it won’t stop anytime soon, eh?”

 Your body jumps in shock but soon eases from the warm and familiar presence beside you.

 “Jung H-Hoseok.” You blink at him, managing a slight smile out of politeness. “What a surprise.”

 The man is a notorious playboy, someone you’ve seen sucking face in alleyways with other girls, feeling them up right in public, especially Yoonji from three houses down your parents’. Your own mother has told you to stay away from men like him. They’re nothing but trouble.

 “Are you alright?” He gives a sly grin, taking a step closer to you and his body radiates the heat your own skin craves. If someone were to see now, they’d immediately become suspicious and in this small town with gossip being the main activity, your mother would know about it instantly.

 Luckily, no one’s around and the streets are empty.

 “I’m perfectly fine, just soaked from the rain.”

 Hoseok smirks. He’s a cunning fellow, a known looker too. His white shirt is rolled to his sleeves, veins popping from his forearm and you know that any lady in this town would be swooning to be in this position but you don’t dare look at him. You focus on the street.

 “It’s been awhile since we chatted, Y/N.”

 “Well, I’d rather not.”

 “Why?” He tips his head to the side, staring at you with the utmost concentration that you nearly begin to break a sweat.

 You finally look at him, twisting on your ankle to frown. “Would Min Yoonji like it if she knew you were trying to flirt with me right now?”

 “Darling, no one ever said anything about flirting.” He’s amused and that makes you angrier. “But if you want me to, then I can.”

 “You. Are. Ridiculous.”

 “And you are beautiful.”

 “You!” Your mouth has filled with cotton, cheeks heating up by the second and it would be an understatement to say that you’re flustered. How is it that he can get under your skin so quickly and break down your barriers; you’ll never know the answer. “Ugh!”

 “Have I stolen those words out of your pretty lips? Or should I kiss ‘em to make sure they’re okay?”

 You scoff, crossing your arms as if it’s for extra protection. “Now I know why my mother told me to stay from the likes of you!”

 “Why?” His grin spreads into his cheeks, and he leans down to meet your eyes. “Because I make you excited, because I’m dangerous, and she’d rather have you settle down with someone plain and boring like that idiot down the street, Taehyung? Kid doesn’t even know what sex is.”

 You narrow your eyes, spitting out the syllables like it’s your only arsenal left against his suave attacks, “because you toy with women’s hearts and throw them after you’re done.”

 “I would never throw you away.” He answers without missing a beat, leaning against the glass window and studying your frame carefully. “I’ve always liked you, you know. You’re different from the rest of ‘em.”

 “H-How so?” Your interest is piqued, and he realizes it, cockily smirking yet again.

 “You’re not a simple one. You’re a challenge and I like that.”

 There’s a familiar feeling about the man and it puts you on edge. Though you must admit, it is exhilarating to be speaking to him and simply considering all the scandalous acts you could do together in secret. “So once I become easy, you’ll be done with me?”

 “Never.” He shakes his head. “You might know me as a heartbreaker but Y/N, sweetheart, I’m a changed man.”

 Your brow lifts. “Oh?”

 Hoseok sighs with exhaustion. “The war is coming. Everyone says it ain’t, but we all know it’s coming. Before I’m drafted to go out to the field and die, I’d like to open my heart once and love someone completely.” He stares at you once more. “And if it’s you, I think I can do it.”

 You’re filled with bafflement again. “I...you…”

 “At least give me a chance, Y/N.” The rain pitter patters against the green awning of the florist’s shop, the scent of the fresh earth fills your senses and you feel overwhelmed with a sense of peace. More so, Hoseok’s pleading twitches your fingers and melts the barrier around your vulnerable heart. “Let me take you out on a date. What do you say?”

 It’s the first thing you think of. You whisper it in a gentle voice.

 “What about your soulmate?”

 “That’s not a problem.” He smiles, looking out at the street that still pours. “Don’t have one, never will. I’m a free soul.”

 “Huh.” You giggle, having never heard such a thing aside from it coming out of your own mouth. “Soulmate-less people do exist after all, don’t they?”

 “They sure do. And once people figure it out, there’s gonna be nothing but pity for folks like me.”

 He can already feel your skin on his, a simple brush of the shoulders but it leaves him aching. Hoseok wonders what those lips taste like, sweet or of crisp citrus, how soft your mouth would feel on his, what it would be like to swallow your pants and make you the happiest woman on this damn forsaken planet.

 “You mean folk like us.” You bring him out from his daydream, and he realizes that it’s better to be in reality since you’re here by his side, in the flesh and beautifully smiling. “I don’t have a soulmate either. I can tell. It’s something in me that says so.”

 “Yeah…” He gazes at you, amazed at how true your words are. He really hasn’t met anyone like you, who knew him better than he did, who felt the things that he did, someone to share sadness with. “I’ve never met anyone where I’ve felt a burst of electricity. For all I know, my world has always been bright colours and all that sort.”

 “Hmm…” You look at him, locking your eyes into his fixed stare. “You know, you feel real familiar, Jung Hoseok. Maybe we’ve met before this life.”

 The man grins. “That’s the kind of line I used to use when I was trying to flirt with somebody.”

 You nudge him, brushing your shoulder against his again. “Maybe I am trying to flirt.”

 “Can I kiss you?”

 “Yes, you may.”

 His lips touch yours until he caresses the back of your neck, holding you close until your chest is pressed against his and his frame shelters you. Candy - he grins when he finally figures out the sweet taste, and he chases the flavour of your velvet lips until a gentle whine leaves your throat.

 Although there is no burst of electricity, your heart doesn’t stop and your breath doesn’t get caught, all you know is that you’re happy. And this is enough for you.

 //

 Falling in love with Hoseok is a complete accident.

 You don’t mean to be head over heels for the man, certainly don’t mean for him to take your heart and kiss you senseless until your limbs feel of butter. When your parents scold your ears off, you resolve to break the relationship but somehow, you run back into his arms like a fool. He takes you and comforts you like a man has never done before. You don’t mean to smile so brightly when he calls you beautiful. You don’t mean to be so weak that you feel marrying him wouldn’t be so bad. You don’t mean any of these things but Hoseok was always a cunning one.

 Maybe it is a mistake but the best one you’ve ever made.

“This is my old babe.” Hoseok slaps her trunk lightly. “Someone threw ‘er away and I told my pop I’d fix her up and I did it. I gotta admit, I love her to death.”

 “More than me?’

 “Maybe.” He teases and chuckles when you roll your eyes. There’s nothing special, at least not in your eyes, but when you lay a finger, your boyfriend inhales sharply. “Careful now. This is a Cadillac Sixty Special.”

 You give him an unimpressed expression, hands on your hips and head quirked to one side. “I’m starting to really believe you love a car more than me.”

 “I’m just joking, babe.” Hoseok leans over and plants a soft kiss on your mouth. Before you can pout, he opens the backseat door and ushers you inside. “For m’lady.”

 You get in, and he follows soon after, shutting it and the pair of you stare out the empty road.

 There’s a long pause. “This it?”

 “What do you mean?” He gasps. “This is the best view you could get! This car’s the best!”

 You sigh again and Hoseok laughs, leaning over and draping his arm over you, pulling you close and you rest your head on his shoulder. “I’m just kidding around. I know a view that’s much better than this.”

 “And what’s that?” To answer your question, his other hand begins to skim on your thigh, fingertips tracing your skin, getting higher and higher and shifting your cotton dress up until your underwear peeks out. You grab his wrist, looking around and whispering in hushes, “What are you thinking?! We’re out in broad daylight in your parent’s driveway!”

 “No one’s around, honey. C’mon…” He noses at your hair and it’s not like you don’t want this. You do very much, perhaps more than him but you’re also afraid of what would happen if Mrs. Kim, the next door neighbor, decides to walk her little puppy and faints when she sees what’s going on.

 Finally, after some contemplation, you grab Hoseok’s face, pressing your mouth against his until he smiles into the kiss. “You better make this worth my while, Jung.”

 His pupils are blown out, lips swollen and ready to devour you in the backseat of his used car. “Oh, I will.”

 At the very least, he cares about you enough to be okay with staining the leather.

 Regardless of what troubles you face - your parents’ disapproval, the looming presence of the war, your own worries and anxieties about the relationship - Jung Hoseok is constantly around the corner. No matter where you go, he’s always able to find you. The man makes your heart sing soothing lullabies and maybe you’ll never have a soulmate but at least you have him.

 “Jung Hoseok here to save the beautiful m’lady.”

 There’s a blazing smile written across his features and you laugh, causing him to melt into a warmer smile. He jogs up to you, draping a coat over your shoulders to defend you against the slight nipping breeze. The pair of you are taking a walk around his neighborhood, an odd pastime but one you insisted on.

 “Are you okay?”

 You secure the warm fabric over your exposed skin, savouring his scent that is lingering on each stitch of the wool fabric. “I’m fine. Why?”

 Hoseok wiggles his brows in a suggestive manner. “Because you were limping the other day.”

 You scoff. “And that was because of who?”

 Your boyfriend giggles sweetly, draping his arm over your shoulder and pulling you close into his chest. You ease from the gesture, the nervousness temporarily rolling off your shoulders. As the both of you pass a minty coloured mailbox, you finally break the silence.

 “Hey, have you been getting your mail lately?”

 “Every Sunday as usual. Why?” He is amused at the strange question, turning to look at you but already having an inkling on what the whole gist is about. “Are you worried about the war?”

 You hide your face, diverting your eyes and your voice is soft, barely on the edge of breaking. “You know they already told Namjoon and Jimin? Those two are leaving next week, packing all their bags, saying goodbye to their loved ones and family members and...and-”

 “Hey. Hey now. Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing.” He gently boinks your head with his, smiling and placing a kiss on the crown. “They’re older than I am and my brother hasn’t even been called yet. There’s no way they’ll call me first. Plus if I did go, I’d have Namjoon and Jimin and my brother to look out for me.”

 “But what if-”

 “No what if’s. Don’t wanna hear it.” He sulks with a pout, letting go of you and instead, catching your hand within his. He holds it tight, lacing your fingers together and you smile at him sadly.

 “Are you scared?”

 “Nope.” He punctuates the syllable and shakes his head. “What’s there to be afraid of? I’m not afraid.”

 You squeeze his hand. “It’s okay if you are. I would be.”

 “Why are you suddenly asking me all these questions?” He stops in front of his house, holding you close and staring at your expression. “What’s going on in that little pretty head of yours that has you worrying so much?”

 Hoseok knows you too well at this point. Your cheeks flush and you stare at the ground. “There is something. And, I’m scared of what you’re gonna say when you know.”

 “Scared of what I'm gonna say?” He laughs and kisses your cheek. “Darling, there’s nothing for you to be afraid of. Don’t you know that I’m fearless?”

 You lift your brow in an incredulous manner. “Really?”

 “Except for spiders, I don’t fight things that’s got more than six legs,” he teases and then becomes serious, “but enough of the jokes, what’s wrong?”

 “I...we’re….” You hesitate, stuttering and an absolute mess. Maybe it’s foolish but you trust this man with all your heart and you love him so. Hence, you take a deep breath, bracing yourself before the storm comes. “We’re gonna have a baby.”

 “What.”

 “I’m pregnant?” You nervously laugh, swinging your held hands and staring at your shoes. “I don’t know how long it’s been but I haven’t been feeling well lately and I haven’t had my...cycle in a while. All the signs, I got them.”

 “Oh wow.” He exhales a lungful, looking off into the distance without an expression. Hoseok is in a state of disbelief, unable to wrap his mind around it, and he repeats you a few times, “We’re gonna have a baby. A baby.”

 “Yep…” You study him carefully, having not expected much but the lack of communication was no less than being put on a tightrope, holding your breath and on the brink of anticipation. “What do you think?”

 “That’s….I’m….I’m going to go...for a bit..”

 “What?!” Out of all the possible reactions, this had to hurt the most - there was no reaction. “You’re leaving?!”

 “I just have to.” He begins to back away, getting to his vehicle that’s parked at the side. “I gotta get some air. See you.”

 “Wait!” You run after him, shouting with all your might as he gets into his little precious car. “Jung Hoseok!” He ignores you completely, putting the keys into the ignition and starting the engine while you bang on the window. “Hoseok! We’re going to talk about this!”

 Despite your fist pounding against the window, heaving breaths shouting through the sky, he pulls away from the curb and goes into reverse. “Hoseok- Fuck! OW FUCKING SHIT!”

 As he was backing up, he mercilessly runs over your foot.

 Pain shoots up your spine and you’re forced to stumble, crouching over and clutching onto your squashed, dirty shoe. You attempt to rip your limb away from under the rubber tire but the force is too much. It feels like you’ve broken your foot or a toenail was ripped off, that it’s bleeding in your tattered nylon sock. It swells and screams. To top off the agony, like a cherry thrown on top of a sundae, he finally drives his car off, freeing your extremity, disappearing in the distant fog and abandoning you on the side of the road.

 “Are you kidding me?!” You sob out to the sky, knocking your head back and letting your broken foot pulsate and throb inside your poor sandal. “HOSEOK!”

 //

 You should’ve known better.

 At the first sign of commitment, he had ran for the hills and was never seen again. You were lied to. You were betrayed. It didn’t matter if you loved him until your heart ached and it didn’t matter if you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. You should’ve listened - to others and to your own instinct. The familiar feeling about the man that put you on edge was a warning.

 Jung Hoseok is never there when you truly need him.

 When you knock on his door, his mother tells you he is not there. When you hear that he has been sent a letter, he is not there. When you wait for a final goodbye, he is not there. When you search for him desperately at the train station before he is sent to the war, he is not there.

 When your foot heals, he is not there.

When you lose the baby, he is not there.

When you cry until it hurts, he is not there.

 When you find out that he has died in the midst of the battlefield, he is truly gone forever.

 “I’m sorry.”

 His comrade lowers his head, hat held in his hand, teardrops dripping on your front doorstep. “W-we couldn’t even get his dog tags. He’s gone, Y/N. Hoseok is dead.”

Jung Hoseok never comes back.

 He never gets to face your wrath, your revenge, your anger or heartbreak. He could never marry you if he wanted to, hold you in his arms and apologize a thousand times, try again to raise a child and to kiss your lips on days when you’re tired. He is not there to grow old with you.

 And you have never been angrier.

 “Who said you could leave, Jung Hoseok?!”

 You screech it to the sobbing sky, embracing the cold and harsh rain drilling on your skull. It drenches you, anchoring you to the ground and you ignore the dirt that splashes against your black dress, walking further and further out to the field.

 “You were supposed to go down on your knees and beg for my fucking forgiveness!” You shriek until your throat is raw, crying it out until you’re not sure what is teardrops or raindrops. It aches everywhere and he isn’t here. He isn’t here. Hoseok isn’t here anymore. “You were supposed to cry when you found out the baby’s gone! Bastard. You are a fucking bastard! You know that?!”

 No matter where you go, Hoseok is always able to find you. But why does he never show up when you need him the most?

 “You threw me away! You left me alone like everyone said you would! I resent you!” Your voice gives out, a mere whimper that no one can hear against the thundering sky. “I resent being in love with you. You were supposed to stay with me, goddammit!”

 The rain is ugly. It reminds you of the day you kissed him.

 “When I meet you again, I swear I’ll never forget the things you’ve done to me. All of it.” You’re not done with Hoseok, far from it. You still have to grab him by the collar, curse and scream and swear at him until he apologizes. You never got to kiss him one last time, embrace him, stare at his face until it’s imprinted into your mind. You didn’t get to say goodbye yet.

 Although the rain can’t, the Heavens can hear the oath you vow.

 “I’ll never forget you,” you breathe, “or so help me god!”

[Present Day]

 You live in fear.

 Regardless of where you are, you’re constantly on edge. You look over your shoulder, running from one city to another, frightened when you catch a tall figure with tousled black hair. It’s been years since you’ve been like this but it seems like you’re still suffering without him around.

 “So, we’re just going to trim half an inch of your hair.”

 You smile in the mirror as the hairdresser positions her silver scissors. “Yes, please.”

 But as you catch a person entering the salon, chiseled jaw and sharp nose, dark locks and great height, you flinch and cower. The lady screams, “hold still!”.

 Though, it’s too late.

 Your head ends up with a horrendous bob haircut. And it wasn’t who you thought it was either. The man was a stranger.

 On another particular day, while making it to your work and gripping an umbrella over your head as it drizzles, across the road and past the fog, you catch a familiar person. Of course as any sane individual would, you scream and try to book it the other way. Unfortunately, your heel ends up getting caught in the cracks of the sidewalk and you collide with a random pedestrian, twisting your ankle in the process as you face-plant.

 Once again, the person you saw was a stranger.

 “Have you found your soulmate yet, Y/N?”

 Your colleague quirks her head to the side, fingers laced together with her husband’s. You down your glass of wine, ordering another from the bar and you look her dead in her eyes.

 “Don’t have one.”

 She doesn’t ask anymore questions.

 If you knew what your grandmother had told you all those years ago, if you knew even before this life and all the others, you would’ve stayed the fuck away from any name of Jung Hoseok.

 You don’t have a soulmate. Far from it. But no longer are you dripping in envy, a green monster to the love surrounding the universe. You’re just trying to survive.

 You don’t have a soulmate, though, you’re not completely free either...no...you have something much, much different and much worse. You have a destructive parasite, destined to ruin each path that you take and cause you sadness, pain, anger. You have something that is guaranteed to lie to you, betray your trust, to hurt you in ways where you’re unable to stand back up again.

 Jung Hoseok is your destined enemy.

 //

 “Why couldn’t anyone else go?” You grumble incoherently underneath your breath, eyes shut tight and head leaning against the cold window. “Dammit, dammit.”

 “Welcome aboard on flight W560 and thank you for flying on our airlines today. Please make sure your belt is on when the plane takes off and prepares to land. There will be a light above-”

 The white noise and engine whirling in the back adds to your thumping headache and anxiousness. You try to drown out the noise, ears ringing and motion sickness teasing you as the airplane begins to roll on the taxiway to the runway. At the very least, you were in business class and there were relatively nice seats, a lot of legroom as well. Luckily, you’re also able to miss the long-winded instructions and the entire takeoff when you fall asleep for about an hour.

 It’s only when your shoulder brushes with the stranger beside you that you’re gently coaxed to consciousness. It’s warm. You can’t remember the last time you had such a nice nap. And your lids flutter, slowly opening your eyes. You meet someone beside you and your lips fall. Your heart stops.

 You scream.

 “Shush!” Hoseok reaches over to clamp a hand over your mouth but you flinch. A flash of hurt crosses his features, and he withdraws his hands, pressing his finger to his own mouth to signal you to be quiet instead. “Stop it, Y/N!”

 You continue to scream, startling and scaring all the surrounding passengers. You cower away from Hoseok, drawing your limbs together and nearly falling out of your seat like you’re afraid his touch will burn you. From the close proximity, you feel suffocated. You are smothered.

 For years, you’ve been running. Ever since you knew about the past, you’ve avoided him like the plague. It must be a consequence from fate now that you’re literally boxed in a long rectangle in the sky. But if he’s here...that means something horrible is bound to happen.

 Oh god...you’re going to die, aren’t you?

 “The plane’s gonna fall!”

 You shout in hysterics, crying so hard that you can’t see straight. The flight attendants have gathered in the commotion, trying to understand what’s happened and the reason for the sudden distressed outburst. “We’re going to crash and burn! It’s going to fall!”

 The people around gasp, murmuring and panicking from your proclamation of the aircraft plunging into the ocean below.

 The attendants rush to pacify you. “We need you to remain calm. Take a deep breath.”

 “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” You shake uncontrollably, hugging your own body and weeping to the point where your chest hurts. “I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die! Please!”

 “The plane won’t fall, Miss L/N.” A flight attendant calls your name once they’ve learnt it and someone kneels in front of you. “There’s just a little bit of turbulence which is caused by strong winds. You’re going to be perfectly fine! We’re going to land in a half an hour! Would you like to walk to the front and take a breather?”

 The comforting voices of the attendant and the others in the background calming the passengers around drown out of your ears. You’re still weeping, for all the centuries, all the lives you lived, for fear and hatred, for pain and sadness. Because Jung Hoseok is here.

 He’s finally here when you don’t want him to be.

 “I-I…”

 You want to switch seats. You want to get away from the man beside you. You want an escape.

 But you also know that as long as he’s on this aircraft, the possibility of it tumbling downwards to crash and burn are all the same. It doesn’t matter how close he is to you or the distance down to the millimeter. As long as he is around, you’re not safe.

 “Y/N.” It’s a soft and sweet voice, an intimate timbre that rattles inside your skull and pulls you away from your blinded fit. The tears in your eyes fall, no longer clouding the surroundings. The pace of your heart thumps to a regular rhythm, breath steadying with each rise and fall of your chest.

 Your eyes have locked with his. Hoseok gazes at you, having lost the details of your features from his memory and restoring all the changes that have happened over the lost years of your lives together. The man seems to hesitate before he lifts his hand, putting it on top of yours.

 This time, you don’t flinch.

 His thumb runs along your skin. “We’re going to be okay. Nothing’s going to happen. I swear to you. So, please, trust in me this one time.”

 There’s a pause.

 The flight attendant takes a sigh of relief when you’re no longer ballistic. They look between you and the man, recognizing that the pair of you must’ve had some kind of prior relationship. And they decide to stand back, somewhere nearby in case you need assistance but enough to give you space to relax.

 “W-Why are you here?”

 “I’m going on a business trip.” He tries to explain himself, looking down at his lap. It’s been too long since you’ve last spoken to one another. “I work at an insurance company now.”

 You snort. He looks up and you provide the explanation before he can ask. “That’s ironic considering you ran over my foot.”

 Hoseok’s eyes widen. “I did?”

 It makes you sick. You don’t want to think about the past.

 Your head leans against the window and you cross your arms, looking out at the white clouds instead of his face. There’s a chance you might punch him in the jaw and you’d certainly be detained if you did such a thing. “You just happened to sit next to me?”

 “It was a coincidence.” His voice moves up a pitch in defense. “I swear, I didn’t plan this out. I don’t even know that you were going to be on this flight. You can check my ticket! I’m supposed to sit here! When I got here, I saw you asleep, so I just sat down.”

 Of course, it was a coincidence. Fate is such a bitch.

 Hoseok inhales a deep breath. “Y/N, I don’t even know what you’ve been doing for the past few years.”

 “Good.” You mirthlessly smile and it doesn’t reach your dead eyes. “If there’s one thing I’m doing right, it’s not letting you know where the hell I am and not knowing where the hell you are. I need you to stay away from me. As far as fucking possible.”

 “I want to talk.”

 “I don’t.”

 The last time you saw Hoseok was at the parking lot of the theaters back in university. The last time was when you kissed him, remembered and left running. In the midst, he was stunned, hand reaching out to your retreating form and pain struck in his chest and on his face.

 You had begun to run since then and it’s been nearly a decade. True to the doctor’s diagnosis and your own grandmother’s words, you didn’t have a soulmate. Everyone around you had gotten married or became engaged to their kindred spirit while you wandered the planet alone.

 But you didn’t care. As long as you were away from him, you didn’t want anything else.

 “I still love y-”

 “Be...be quiet.” It physically pains you to speak to Hoseok. “I beg of you. Before I get another anxiety attack, I need you to stop and pretend that you’re invisible. Don’t move. Don’t talk. Don’t breathe.”

 You shut your eyes tight, unable to see his expression. “But I need you to listen to me.”

 “I don’t want to listen, alright?!” You’ve been traumatized, the grief clinging onto each of your bones and you feel tears well up in your eyes again. Each time you look at Hoseok, the faces of your previous self shows and you recall history; the smother flames engulfing your home, illness plaguing you as the quill trembles in your hand, standing naked on a stage while a man sells you to a crowd, being beaten to a pulp and running….running...running.

 And the most painful of all memories: being abandoned after knowing love.

 “I’m scared of you. You scare me shitless. Every single time I’ve met you, you messed me up somehow so please!”

 Fortunately for you, Hoseok complies with your wishes. For the rest of the flight, you don’t hear a single peep out of his mouth and once the plane has landed, you hurl yourself out as fast as possible.

 You never once look behind.

 //

 “When are you going back to work?”

 Your mother asks as she sets breakfast down at the table and your father discards the newspaper. Maybe it was taking it one step too far but now that you knew Hoseok was living somewhere in the city, you couldn’t risk going back. If you encountered him once, chances were high that he would keep coming back and back into your life.

 You couldn’t return. At least not until you figured where to run off to next.

 “Not sure yet. I saved a lot of vacation days up so maybe I’ll stick around for two weeks.”

 Presently, you were hidden in the secluded outskirts of your grandmother’s old house. Technically, it’s your parents’ since they moved into the quiet and quaint place for their retirement years. It’s a home for you too and it’s been a long time since you’ve visited.

 “Well alright then.” Your mother seems appeased by the answer and you dig into the toast. She hesitates, exchanging a look with your father and you can recall why you haven’t been back in so long. “Have you found your soulmate yet?”

 “Nope.”

 “Y/N, sweetie, are you even trying to look?”

 “No.” By being as clear-cut and simple, you hope they won’t ask anymore. “I’d rather not.”

 “But how will you ever find them?”

 You fill your mouth up before pointing your fork to the pair of them, narrowing your eyes. “Didn’t you say that if they’re my soulmate, I’ll meet them anyway?”

 Your father nods in agreeance. “But it doesn’t help to look for ‘em, y’know. Makes the process faster.”

 Your mother hums and you can already tell the gears inside her head are beginning to turn. She considers everyone that she knows, friends of relatives, children of friends, anyone who you might know. “What about that boy that you were friends with during preschool? He went to the same schools as you all the way to college too, right? What was his name?”

 Before you can stop her, she says it. “Jung Hoseok!”

 You choke on your orange juice, coughing and heaving. Your mother’s eyes are twinkling, and she grins with your father. “That would make sense, huh? Together since you were children?! And I spoke to his mother a month back. He hasn’t met anyone either, right? Maybe you two are soulmates.”

 “That’s impossible.”

 Literally — Hoseok is the opposite of your soulmate. If your parents knew that he was your enemy, destined to cause you suffering and chaos, they’d never mention him again. Maybe they’d voodoo him and throw salt all over their doorstep too. But you can’t break the news and cause them heartache. You can’t bear to say it and let them know that their only child not only will end up alone in this life and the next, but they have someone out in the world that will cause them endless pain.

 “Plus,” you add, “don’t soulmates recognize each other upon meeting?”

 Your mother’s brow furrows, realizing that you’re right but your father taps his chin, not ready to give up on the idea. “I’ve been reading lately and the T.V. says there’s a lot of things that go into soulmates so who knows, maybe it’s just a late blooming relationship.”

 You hold back a laugh. “I seriously doubt it.”

 “Don’t give up hope, L/N Y/N. You hear me?” Your mother lectures, tone becoming stern and unyielding. “You’ll meet the one someday. Maybe tomorrow or the next day. You always do and there’s nothing you can do to run away from it!”

 Christ...you can only hope she’s wrong.

 //

 The field was verdant in hue, the mint walls of your bedroom and soft beryl flowers haunted you. Green was the colour of your envy, of the luck that you didn’t have, of your greed for love and companionship. But it was also the shade of the serene nature that surrounded you, the symbol of healing and of hope. Hope that would certainly hurt you in the end.

 More importantly, the colour reminded you of him. And you couldn’t bring yourself to hate it.

 “Y/N! There’s someone here for you!” Your mother’s call has you stumbling down the stairs in confusion. There wasn’t anyone that you knew around these parts and- “It’s been so long! We were actually talking about you earlier. Oh, speaking of which, you haven’t met your soulmate yet, right, Hoseok?”

 You freeze. Your mother moves aside. The man is standing in front of your doorway with a sheepish smile, one that conveys too many apologies at once.

 He’s a hundred years too late.

 “What are you doing here?”

 “I just thought we should talk.”

 “Now, Y/N.” Your mother butts in. “Be nice to our guest! It’s been so long since I’ve seen him as well. Hoseok, dear, would you like to go in for a drink of coffee or tea? You can stay for as long as you’d like-”

 “No.” You stride past her, grabbing onto his sleeve and dragging him away. “We’re talking outside.”

 It hurts. It pains you beyond belief. You never thought you had to face him again. Yet, here you are. No matter where you go, he’s always able to find you. And it drives you crazy in the worst ways.

 “How did you even find me here?”

 You’re tapping your foot, arms crossed, completely unimpressed with his presence. On the other hand, Hoseok is meekly smiling at you, taking in the quiet surroundings of the field. It reminds him of an era that was long ago where it was more tranquil, and he was by your side, taking aimless strolls to waste the evening away.

 “You took me here in the first grade and then again in ninth and twelve. You might not remember but we grew up together.” He watches you carefully. “In this life. Not the other ones. In this one, we were friends long before anything else happened.”

 “Used to be.” You correct. “We used to be friends.”

 There’s a silence.

 “Why are you even here, Hoseok?” You break the summer birds’ song, interrupting the sun’s fall from the horizon. “Is it to apologize so you can feel better about yourself? Do you want to try to move on? Well guess what, you’re too late. You’re lifetimes and lifetimes too late.”

 He takes a moment to decide his words. “I hate that you’re afraid of me.”

 You laugh without an inch of happiness. “I think it’s for good reason, don’t you?”

 “I still care about you. I love you, Y/N.”

 You spin on your heel, having absolutely none of it. It takes all the strength in your muscles to begin to walk away from him. Hoseok inhales a breath and for once, the roles are reversed.

 He watches your backside disappear slowly, counting each step you take that increases the distance and leaves him farther away from you.

 He takes the leap of courage before you’re gone.

 “In the sixteenth century,” he screams and you stop, “I didn’t betray you because I wanted to. It was the plan from the start. The people were suffering and the kingdom needed to be overthrown. The painter...I...still loved you very much.”

 The bandage around the wound is ripped straight off. It hasn't healed. It stings.

 “When you wrote all those books in the seventeenth, I just wanted to help you and get your work out there in the world. I...I came back and I didn’t know you had d-...d...died.”

 Hoseok almost begins to cry. His nails sink into his clothing. His head drops to the floor. It hits you like a bullet train - you weren’t the only one who was tortured.

 You turn around to face him.

 “In the eighteenth, I was a fucking douchebag, I know. But I had suffered so much as a peasant. I wanted a better life for myself. It...It wasn’t my intention to make you suffer too.”

 You call his name, and he ignores you, continuing onwards.

 “The nineteenth.” Hoseok smiles past saltwater eyes. “It was better for you not to gamble. I would have fed you, given you a warm home, and I was going to release you after a year. And maybe, maybe you would have stayed if I asked you to.”

 You step closer to the boy and you wait for the reasons of the years that hurt you the most.

 “In the twentieth — I’m sorry.”

 Jung Hoseok, like all you had hoped for, collapses onto his knees. He faces the dirt, tears dripping like raindrops. “I was a coward. I was too afraid of everything.”

 Your shadow looms over him. He grabs onto the hem of your sweater, anchoring him down to the ground, and he begs for your forgiveness. It’s pathetic, the way he sobs but you don’t feel a single morsel of satisfaction like you thought you would. It aches. Everywhere.

 “You didn’t say goodbye to me.”

 “I’m so sorry.”

 Your arms stay by your side and you look down at him.

 “I lost the baby.”

 Hoseok cries harder. “I’m sorry.”

 “I waited for you.”

 He continues to apologize, each one full of sincerity and anguish. “I’m sorry.”

 “You were supposed to stay with me.”

 “I’m sorry.”

 Your hand lifts. You hold Hoseok close to you, carding your fingers through the familiar black locks. It’s been the same pigment for all the centuries you’ve known each other for.

 “Every single day, I waited for you to come back and you never did.”

 His tears stain the fabric of your clothes. “I’m sorry.”

 “You were never there when I needed you the most.”

 He stands himself back up onto wobbling legs, on a face drenched with tears, with a heart weak and overwhelmed. “B-but I’m here now.” He wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt and you linger in the close proximity, yearning to be closer yet keeping the distance.

 “I’m scared that the longer I spend with you, the worse the outcome will be in the end.”

 “I’m sorry.” He shouldn’t apologize. This time, it isn’t his fault. “I just...I can’t leave you. I can’t do it. In all the lives we’ve shared together, I’ve loved you in each one. But I never fought hard enough. I never fought hard enough for you.”

 “That doesn’t change the fact that you scare me.” You lock your eyes with him. “I’m scared of what will happen later on, if you’ll end up causing me more grief, if I somehow die in a tragic death and never live peacefully or happily. How many more times do we have to keep living like that before we learn that it’s better to stay apart?”

 “But it’s not up for fate to decide for me!” He shouts it with resentments of the past, of the hand of destiny and his own choices that have led you to become so petrified of him and to be so broken. “I don’t fucking care about destiny or about soulmates or whatever the hell we are! Enemies?! I don’t care!”

 You scream back, “How can you not care?!”

 “Fate doesn’t control me.” He’s out of breath and your eyes widen. “And as long as I’m breathing, I’ll make sure I’ll continue to atone for my mistakes. I’ll make sure you’re the happiest woman alive.”

“How can you be so sure?” You ask him, pleading for an answer, gazing into his eyes. “How can you be so sure of yourself? Of us?” 

“Because I love you. I love you,” Hoseok repeats. “And maybe that’s not enough. Maybe it’s not enough to beat whatever’s been predetermined for us. Maybe it’s not enough to restore your trust in me. But I love you. And I can’t walk away from us. I’ll try as many times as I need to. I will fight for as many centuries as I need to. All I know is that I want to be with you....in this life and the next.”

“You’re stupid.” You shake your head. “You’re stupid for believing that we can beat fate but maybe I’m more stupid...for always fucking believing in you.”

 One moment you’re shouting at each other and the next you’re tearfully laughing.

 Maybe he’s wrong. Maybe you’ll end up suffering again and again, back on the endless loop of hardships and heartbreak. Maybe it’s dumb of you to think that you can beat fate at its own game. You’ve been hurt enough times. How much more can you handle and how many more times will it take for you to learn? Jung Hoseok is your destined enemy after all.

 But maybe he’s right.

 Maybe you have more control of your life than you thought. Maybe it isn’t up to destiny or some unseen source. At the end, your existence wouldn’t be worth anything if you keep on running away. A peaceful life but an unhappy one isn’t what you want.

 You love Hoseok. In this life. In the last ones. You always have.

 All you need is a leap of courage and to fight hard for what you want.

 “Then let’s fight together.” You wrap your arms around him, staring at him until it’s imprinted into your mind, embracing his body and kissing his lips once - fulfilling all your wishes from the previous life. “You can make my life as much of a hell as you want. Just don’t leave.”

 “I won’t.” He pulls you close, arms around your shoulders and holding you tightly. Hoseok breathes in your familiar scent, crying and endlessly grateful for your existence. He does all the things he should’ve done. And he keeps you close.

 You giggle, melting into the hug. “I still love you.”

 Although your love is not a burst of electricity, where the heart stops and the breath gets caught - the universe doesn’t suddenly shine in brighter hues, becoming vibrant and louder - this love is yours.

 “I love you too.”

 It is yours. A constant work in progress, a construction of hard effort and bruised hands, of tired and relentless struggle but it’s one that you fight for. And it’s one that you know, you’ll be proud of in the end.

 “Now stop crying and come inside.” You tease him, stroking his hair and patting his back. “I think my mom and dad are watching from the window.” He nods and sniffles and you laugh.

 This man was once a painter and editor, a swindler and a loan shark, a soldier as well. But now, the boy is your old friend and someone you cherish with every part of your being.

 Instead of looking behind, you focus on the horizon and your fingers lace together with his. “Stay with me for a while?”

 Hoseok grins. “Always.”

 No matter where you go, he’s always able to find you.

 And now he’s here when you need the most.

[mystisnykoto]

Keter - Chapter 41

The Lost Era 

Iris and Ruri walked into the stone temple, purple crystals stabbed out through the floor. Iris looked around, holding her hand over the shattered stump of her arm. Ruri held her arm in a sling made from a leather pouch holding the remains of Iris' arm. Ruri touched over the smooth face of a nearby crystal, able to see her reflection scattering through out the structure.

“This place... what is this?” asked Ruri, looking from the crystal to the rest of the ruin. Her eyes fixed upon the shattered door at the far end.

“It is the tomb made to house the remains of the Bright Heart,” explained Keter. She looked to the crumbled crystal statues adorning the floor as Iris tapped her foot against a crystallized arm. She looked at her broken stump, and then to Keter.

“Is there any way for me to get my arm back?” Iris asked, worry covering her face. “Before... Ruri was able create a digital arm, but... is that even possible now?”

“I do not understand what this 'digital' is, but I would assume that a similar process could achieve similar results,” Keter replied as she stepped onto the path leading deeper inside. Ruri walked over to Iris, touching her hand lightly to her wife's cheek.

“Whatever happens, we'll find a way to get your arm fixed up,” spoke Ruri, smiling happily to Iris. Iris smiled back, placing her hand over Ruri's. The pair locked eyes, as Iris nuzzled against Ruri's touch.

“Get friendly later!” Aki shouted as he rushed inside the temple. Iris and Ruri nearly leaped from the skin, started by Aki's sudden presence. “Where are they?”

“Th-they... Keter is just ahead,” spoke Iris. “Zeffer is deeper inside, somewhere...”

“Right...” spoke Aki, looking over the pair. “You two look like shit.” Iris laughed softly as Ruri sneered back to Aki.

“You don't look so great yourself,” Ruri started, pointing toward Aki's neck. “What's with that... stuff, on your neck?” Aki rubbed over his neck, letting out a loud sigh.

“It's what needed to be done...” spoke Aki as he walked passed the pair and following after Keter.

                                                                                                            Deep inside the cavern, the Graveyard pulsed with energy as Keter stepped in. Zeffer sat in front of an empty altar, huffing and wheezing as blood pooled underneath his body.

“Is this where things come to an end?” spoke Zeffer, leaning against the altar as he shakily stood. His skin nearly translucent, as blood drained out from his shoulder, showing off his crystalline form. “Was a wild run, wasn't it Keter?”

“This is the end, indeed Zeffer,” spoke Keter as Aki, Ruri and Iris rushed into the area. Iris looked out over the expanse before her. Memories of her father's journal and stories filled her mind, as she looked into the Void before her.

“This place...” started Iris as Aki drew his blade from its scabbard. “Is... this...”

“The end...” spoke Zeffer as the blood beneath him turned pitch black. “Cast of shadows...” he started as black shadowy tendrils sprouted from under Keter. The tendrils wrapped around her and pulled the woman to Zeffer. “... cast their shadows.” Zeffer gripped Keter by her face, draining her energy, as the blood pulled back into his body and mixed with the soul stolen from Keter. His body appeared to solidify as Keter started to hollow and fade. “Give me what I desire!”

“Let her go!” Aki shouted as he rushed forward, his crystal structure creeping further up his neck as his blade cut through Zeffer's arm. Aki kicked Zeffer away, as Keter's dying form fell to the ground with a glass-like clink. Iris and Ruri rushed to Keter, sitting her up as they watched Aki duel with Zeffer. The severed arm faded to dust and shadow, regrowing from his  shoulder as he avoided Aki's attacks.

“What the hell is this place?” asked Ruri, watching as the light from the crystal walls started to fade.

“This... is the Graveyard... of the Angels...” Keter choked out. “Want to be rid of the avatars to the gods? Toss them into the Abyss, let the Void tear them apart.”

“K-Keter, have you noticed that the walls are disappearing?” asked Iris, panic filling her voice. “We need to run!” Iris lifted Keter, as the transparent crystal goddess looked at Aki.

“I was a fool... Blinded by my wish to bring back my people... I let a monster play off my sympathies...” Keter closed her eyes as a white light began to build in her chest. “I've caused only death... Stood in the very face of what I swore to uphold so long ago...” Keter smiled, looking back to Iris and Ruri as the pair tried to get the trio out from the disappearing area. “Please... let me have this...” Iris and Ruri stopped, staring into Keter's eyes as they felt themselves fall. The ground vanished as they dropped into the abyss.

                                                                                                              White light surrounded Ruri as she opened her eyes. She looked around, finding Iris groaning  next to her.

“I-Iris!” Ruri shouted as she shook Iris by her shoulder. “Sweetheart, please be okay!”

“I feel like someone ran me over with an adamantoise...” Iris whined, rolling over to her rear. Iris looked around, the light filling her eyes as she started to panic. “Oh gods... Oh gods no! H-have we died?” Iris shouted as her eyes focused. In the distance she could see two dark figures doing battle with one another, with Keter glowing with radiant light watching over the battle. Iris and Ruri stood and limped closer, collapsing back to their hands and knees as Ruri started to bleed again.

“We... we can't be dead!” Ruri shouted, as a soothing voice filled their ears.

“Do not fret young children, you have nothing to fear any longer...” spoke Keter's voice. Ruri's ears perked up as she tried to stand again. “You are between worlds, with no need to trouble yourself with things...”

“Send us home!” Ruri shouted back, shakily standing to her feet as she draped Iris' arm over her shoulder. “We won't worry when we are back home!” Ruri dragged Iris behind her, as the pair collapsed at the feet of the glowing woman. Keter turned to look upon Ruri and Iris, as she used her power to float Ruri to her feet. Ruri held tight to Iris' arm, keeping her wife standing with her.

“I am proud to see how my line has survived,” the woman spoke. “You have become a strong and determined, I am proud.” The woman touched a finger under Ruri's chin, bringing her face up to meet the Keter's. “But the pair of you, you do not belong is this realm.” Keter tapped a finger to Iris' forehead, causing her to glow with white light and burst into fragments, quickly fading from sight. Ruri cried out, watching as her wife disappeared.

“What... did you do to her!?” Ruri shouted as much as she could. “Where is she!?”

“She is gone from here, as you will be as well...” Keter spoke as she touched Ruri upon her forehead as well. “Watch over Iris...” Keter moved her hand away as Ruri began to glow as well. “She puts on a strong face, but she is more fragile than ever.” Keter lowered her hand as Ruri burst into fragments of light and faded away. “Be strong... both of you...”

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[dragonshost]

Back To The Start

Chapter 1: Resolution

Pairing: Acnologia x Lucy

On FFN:

On AO3:

Summary:  Lucy has lost everything she ever cared for, all thanks to the black dragon of the apocalypse. So, with the help of two old journals belonging to her ancestor Anna and a dragon slayer 400 years dead, she will find out the secret to Acnologia's defeat. No matter the personal cost.

Dedicated to @tammyscythe - I hope you enjoy the first chapter of your giveaway prize.  I’m sorry that it took me a full year to get this posted.

This fic is going to be chock full of headcanons, and largely ignore whatever is in Dragon Cry.

Enjoy.

Heaving a sigh, Lucy pushed back from her desk, chair wheels squeaking on the plastic floor cover. Rubbing her eyes, she let out a yawn. "That's it!" she stated. "I'm done for the day! No more!"

Behind her, at his own desk, her supervisor laughed. "Calling it a night?"

"Yeah. Couldn't write another word if I tried." Lucy stretched, her joints creaking as if she were eighty instead of eighteen. For good measure, she flexed her hands and wrists. Soreness had long since set into them, and it was a relief to put down her pen at last.

Without looking up from his own work, Jason passed her a ceramic mug. "Mind filling this up before you head out?"

"Sure thing." Plucking the mug from Jason's fingers, Lucy grabbed her own mug and stood up. A short walk, and she was at the break room in Sorcerer Weekly's headquarters. After she placed her mug in the dishwasher, she eyed the brown sludge that remained in the coffee pot. Long since cold, the grounds had congealed and were starting to smell funny. The liquid didn't seem much better.

"Getting you tea instead!" she called out across the empty bullpen, sticking her head around the corner of the breakroom door. "The coffee's no good!"

A thumbs up was raised above the partition in acknowledgement.

Lucy gave the cup a quick rinse, then dropped a tea bag in, and poured hot water from the water dispenser on top of it. While it steeped on the counter, she popped lid off the coffeepot, removing the filter and grounds and tossing them in the trash. Thankfully the building cleaners hadn't arrived yet. One quick scrub later and it was back where it belonged.

Removing the tea bag, she dumped two packets of sugar in. Jason would need the extra boost, and after two weeks of working with him, Lucy had come to notice that he had a sweet tooth that could almost put Erza's to shame.

The thought of her redheaded friend sent a pang of loneliness through her chest.

But Lucy ignored it, grabbing the mug and walking back to her desk.

"Thanks, you're the coolest." Jason finally looked up from his article-in-progress, and watched as Lucy gathered her coat and keys. "Finally getting used to the odd hours?"

Lucy smiled wearily at him. "I always kinda kept weird hours, so the adjustment was pretty easy."

"That's good! When do you think you'll have the research ready for that report on Boscan mage guilds ready for me?"

"Hmm... tomorrow afternoon, if I really crack down on it."

Jason beamed. "Cool! That'll be perfect. See you tomorrow, and take care on your way home!"

"I will. Bye, Jason."

Leaving the office, Lucy stopped at looked at the sky overhead. It was almost completely dark out, and Crocus's streetlights blazed against the night sky - too bright for her to see any stars.

Her footsteps dragged as she made her way to the train station. It wasn't too far from the office, which was nice, she mused. So were the bento lunches sold in the kiosk by the platforms. Lucy purchased one, before hopping on her train to Magnolia. She ate it silently as the train pulled away from the platform.

The scenery began to flow into the night, a formless blur as the train picked up speed. If she were being honest, the food tasted much the same. Lucy couldn't remember the last time food had excited her. She patted her stomach. She'd lost some weight recently, with her appetite mostly gone.

Three weeks ago, that thought would have made her happy. But for some reason, she couldn't seem to stir herself to the emotion.

She threw away her bento box, only half eaten.

Lucy stared out the window, her gaze unfocused and unseeing, even if there was some way she could see the world outside the train. She yawned widely - the steady thrum of the moving vehicle lulling her into drowsiness. With a shake of her head, Lucy held back another yawn. She wished Crocus wasn't so far from Magnolia - the three hour-long commute each way was brutal.

Maybe it was time for her to look for an apartment close to the office.

Maybe it was time to accept the fact that there was no one she loved still in Magnolia.

Maybe it was time she stopped waiting for people who weren't coming back.

"Now pulling into Magnolia Station."

Lucy jolted in her seat at the announcement, having dozed off despite her best efforts at staying awake. She gathered her things in a hurry, just barely ready to go by the time the train doors opened with a hiss.

Magnolia was quiet this time of night, and the streets were mostly empty. Light and sound still spilled out of the taverns, but they were the only source of life along Lucy's route home. Her feet thudded on the pavement, carrying her swiftly past the pools on light that spilled out the doorways. The sounds grated on her, and her head spun. Focusing on the ground, Lucy picked up her pace a little more, nausea swimming inside her. Soon the sounds of the taverns were behind her, as she entered the residential district and turned onto her street.

Once in front of her apartment, she reached for her key. Her fingertips brushed against the cool metal of her keyring, and Lucy found herself fighting against another wave of nausea. She gagged, and furiously fumbled keys in her hands, hands shaking as she found her apartment key and tried to get it into the lock. Missing twice, she got it into the keyhole on the third try. Pushing the door open, she rushed into her apartment, and to the toilet where she vomited what little she'd managed to eat.

She knelt on the cool tile, hands clutching the porcelain and breathing heavily.

“Princess,” a soft voice called behind her.

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut, steadfastly ignored her concerned spirit.

“Princess.  I have prepared a fresh change of clothes for you, along with a hot towel and a glass of water to cleanse your mouth.”

“Virgo,” Lucy whispered hoarsely, unable to raise her voice any higher.  “Thank you.”

“You are most welcome. However, I believe you are suffering from acute exhaustion, and that you should take the day off tomorrow to recuperate.”

“I can’t.  I have a report to hand in.”  Gratefully, Lucy took the water from her spirit.  She held the water in her mouth without swallowing, swirling it around and then spitting it out into the toilet.  Then she took the towel, wiping her face as she flushed the vomit away.  “I promised. I can’t… I can’t break anymore promises, Virgo.”  Her voice cracked.  “I can’t!”

The spirit sat down beside her, and held her while she cried.  “You didn’t, Lucy,” she consoled, gently rubbing Lucy’s back.  “You didn’t break any promises to Aquarius.”

“I did!  She was my spirit!  I… I sacrificed her, Virgo!  What kind of…” She hiccupped.  “What kind of celestial wizard does that?”

“You had no choice; Aquarius made the decision.  You didn’t betray anyone.  Not us. Not her.  Letting your friends die would have been the betrayal, and thanks to you it didn’t happen.”

A wail warbled out of Lucy’s throat, as broken as her heart.  “Then why are they still gone?!”

Virgo had no answer for that.  She continued to hold Lucy, until she cried herself out and fell asleep in the spirit’s arms.  Once she had, she changed her clothes, then picked her up and tucked her into bed.

Lucy watched herself struggle against the demons.  She shouted, and sobbed as Aquarius vanished in a shower of golden light.  Pounded at the walls of the invisible bubble from which she observed, screaming for Aquarius to come back, to rewind time, for anything that could return here friend to her.

But just as before the spirit was gone, and there was nothing Lucy could do about it.

Her eyes streamed with tears, as she watched her friends fight for their lives against Tartaros.  Trembled, when she felt the boneshaking roar echoing in the dark sky.  Wings of darkness filled the sky, and suddenly she was no longer watching him combat the red dragon, but staring down its maw as it consumed Tenrou.  She was paralyzed with fear, her legs unable to move and the bubble that prevented her from helping her friends no detriment to the dragon’s wrath.

Then the red dragon fell from the sky, a gaping hole in its midsection.

Lucy screamed and cried for Igneel, but mostly for Natsu. His father falling, dying.

Nothing Lucy could do to stop it.

Her arms were covered in blood, as a man laughed over her death. Palace tile merging with the rubble left in Tartaros’s wake, her own corpse lying broken on top of it.

When Lucy was jolted violently from sleep, she promptly turned over and grabbed a bowl lying on the floor beside her bed, then vomited into it.

It wasn’t long before Virgo appeared.  She gently wiped Lucy’s face with another hot towel, and removed the bowl for cleaning. “I will let your work know that you’re not coming in today,” the spirit told her softly.  To which Lucy could only nod weakly in agreement.

Everything was gone. Everything she loved, vanished like water droplets thrown at a fire, evaporated to nothing.

Her mother, her father, Aquarius, the guild, her friends.  Gone.

Natsu.

It was as if the black dragon had blasted a hole through her, as well.  A void through which her friends had fallen.

Everything was that dragon’s fault.  It had prevented her from having a relationship with her father, from being there when he died.  It had led to Future Rogue destroying the future with his own hands, and trying to eliminate any chance of hers.  It had brought down Igneel, whom Natsu had searched for, for so long.

“Princess,” Virgo announced, returning to Lucy’s side.  “Your boss said to take all the time you need – he’d make do with what you left behind.”

Left behind.

Lucy was rubble.

And it was all the fault of that dragon.

“Virgo.”  The spirit nodded in acknowledgement.  “I think… I think Erza mentioned… a library.  Where is it?”

“I presume you mean the Sorcery Library,” she intoned.  “It’s not far from Magnolia.  Half a day’s walk.  But you can’t mean to go when you’re in this condition, Princess.”

Lucy shook her head. “I don’t think I can stomach travel today.”  Her smile at Virgo was wobbly.  “But I’m taking tomorrow off as well.  Maybe… maybe more than just tomorrow.”

The pink haired spirit stared long and hard at her key holder, her friend that was pushing herself too hard.  “Is it too much to hope for that you’ll take the time to rest?”

“I can’t afford to,” Lucy informed her.  “That dragon is still out there, Virgo.  He took everything away from me.  He’s terrorized this world for too long.  But he must have a weakness.  Somewhere. I’m going to find it, and help my friends and stop him from hurting anyone ever again.”

She took a deep breath.

“I’m going to find a way to kill the black dragon, Acnologia.”

[sciencespies]

An Alien Comet From Another Star Is Soaring Through Our Solar System

https://sciencespies.com/news/an-alien-comet-from-another-star-is-soaring-through-our-solar-system/

An Alien Comet From Another Star Is Soaring Through Our Solar System

Something strange is sailing toward us. Something small and cold and extraordinarily fast. No one knows where it came from, or where it is going. But it’s not from around here. This is an interstellar comet – an ancient ball of ice and gas and dust, formed on the frozen outskirts of a distant star, which some lucky quirk of gravity has tossed into our path. To astronomers, the comet is a care package from the cosmos – a piece of a place they will never be able to visit, a key to all the worlds they cannot directly observe.

It is only the second interstellar interloper scientists have seen in our solar system. And it’s the first one they’ve been able to get a good look at. By tracking the comet’s movement, measuring its composition and monitoring its behaviour, researchers are seeking clues about the place it came from and the space it crossed to get here. They have already found a carbon-based molecule and possibly water – two familiar chemicals in such an alien object.

As the Sun sinks behind the Tennessee mountains, and stars wink into view, astronomer Doug Durig climbs onto the rooftop of his observatory, powers up his three telescopes and angles them skyward.

Every night, the comet grows bigger and brighter in the sky, expelling streams of gas and dust that may offer up clues to its history. On Dec. 8, it will make its nearest approach to Earth, offering researchers an up-close glimpse before it zooms back into the freezing, featureless void.

Far below in the darkness, Durig will be waiting.

Each star in the night sky represents a possible solar system. Every light in the universe is, more likely than not, some alien planet’s sun.

This is the chief lesson of two decades of studying exoplanets. Scientists have identified thousands of worlds beyond our solar system: gas giants and tiny rocky spheres, worlds lit by dim red suns and ones that orbit the spinning remains of collapsed stars. There are even planets circling medium-size yellow suns like ours – though nothing found so far can match the breathable atmosphere and deep, blue oceans of Earth.

Yet even when viewed through the most powerful telescopes, exoplanets are not discernible as anything more than specks of light. And no human alive has a hope of travelling to another star – merely approaching the nearest one would take 40,000 years.

Scientists’ best hope for closely examining another solar system was to wait for a piece of one to come to us.

It was August 30, in the quiet moments before dawn, when a self-taught astronomer in a Crimean mountain village spotted a faint smudge low on the horizon, barely distinguishable against the glittering background of stars.

Gennady Borisov submitted his observations to the Minor Planet Center, the astronomers’ clearinghouse for information about small bodies in the solar system, so other scientists could take a look.

One night later, halfway across the planet, the strange report caught Durig’s eye.

“I was the second person to observe it,” Durig said. “That confirmed the comet was real.”

Within a couple of weeks, scientists had collected enough observations to calculate the comet’s orbit. But they did not find the oval path that comets typically make around the sun. Instead, the orbit was hyperbolic – it did not close in on itself. The object was also traveling at the blistering speed of 93,000 miles per hour, far faster than any comets, asteroids or planets orbiting our sun.

“Wow,” said Davide Farnocchia, a navigation engineer at NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory, who was among the first people to determine that the comet came from another star. “I was not expecting to see anything like that.”

Comet’s straight path slightly deflected by the sun’s gravitational pull (L), position relative to Earth (R) Photo Credit: NASA, ESA, J. Olmsted, F. Summers (STScI)

There has been only one other interstellar object spotted in our solar system: a cigar-shaped rock named ‘Oumuamua, a Hawaiian word that translates to “messenger from afar.”

But ‘Oumuamua was already on its way out of the system when it was discovered in October 2017, and it was so faint that scientists were never able to view it as more than a single pixel of light. They were not quite sure what they had seen – was it a metallic, rocky asteroid or an icy, dusty comet? And they were unsure whether the detection was just a lucky fluke, never to be repeated, or a harbinger of things to come.

So researchers were thrilled when, less than two years later, another interstellar traveler arrived.

The new comet, which has been named 2I/Borisov (indicating its discoverer and its status as the second known interstellar object), is expected to be within reach of telescopes until fall 2020. At its closest approach, next month, it will be twice as far from Earth as Earth is from the sun.

Though it entered the solar system from the direction of the constellation Cassiopeia, scientists do not know yet where 2I/Borisov came from, or how long it has drifted through the desolation of interstellar space. Given its current speed, it has certainly been traveling for millions, if not billions, of years.

As the object gets closer to the sun’s warmth, ices on its surface turn into gas. This creates the characteristic halo-like “coma,” which scientists can scrutinize to determine what the comet is made of. Already, 2I/Borisov has been observed more than 2,000 times.

“That’s going to be fun, in terms of looking at this object . . . as it comes in from the deep freeze for the very first time,” said Michele Bannister, an astronomer at Queen’s University Belfast. “Let’s open it up and see what we have with this particular present from another star.”

Astronomer Doug Durig waits in darkness for images of the celestial object 2I/Borisov Photo Credit: Washington Post photo by Sarah Kaplan

Exoplanet discoveries revealed we live in a crowded cosmos. But they also awakened Earthlings to how lonely we are. Mostplanetary systems discovered in recent decades are wildly unfamiliar, and the most common type of exoplanet – a body larger than Earth but smaller than Neptune – doesn’t exist near our home.

When astronomers had only our own solar system to go by, “it used to seem like planet formation was solved,”said Malena Rice, an astrophysicist at Yale University. “And then all of a sudden there are all these strange systems that don’t fit our picture.”

Interstellar comets are uniquely useful for confronting this conundrum. They are born of the same swirling disk of gas and dust that produces planets around an infant star. But then they get stranded at the icy edges of solar systems, where they can preserve the early ingredients of planet formation.

Comets in our own solar system have been found to contain some of the basic ingredients for life: water, carbon, even complex organic compounds. Now 2I/Borisov could tell us whether life’s essential molecules were among the building blocks of a world beyond our own.

This fall, Bannister’s colleague Alan Fitzsimmons produced the first-ever detection of a chemical compound emitted by an interstellar comet. Separating light from 2I/Borisov into its component parts, his team found a signature of cyanogen, a molecule made of a carbon atom and a nitrogen atom bonded together. The gas is common in comets around this sun.

“When I saw that, I shouted in my office . . . something not repeatable in a respectable newspaper,” Fitzsimmons recalled.

A few weeks later, astronomer Adam McKay detected oxygen streaming off the comet, an indicator that sunlight is striking water on the surface and breaking up the molecule. If confirmed, this would be the first-ever detection of alien water in our solar system. It is also another sign that 2I/Borisov is much like the comets we know.

“Even in these other systems where their architectures are very different, maybe the underlying physics and chemistry is still pretty similar,” said McKay, a research scientist at NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center.

Models of our solar system suggest that about 90 percent of the leftover material from planet formation was ejected into interstellar space. The space beyond Neptune still harbours millions of icy bodies, which over millennia can be knocked out of orbit and slung away from the sun.

If any of these scattered fragments happen to be pulled into another system and start to glow in the heat of its star, they will appear as interstellar comets to whoever might be watching.

“There’s a universality to that, which is amazing,” Bannister said. “Our planetary system is woven together with another planetary system by these little wanderers roving across the galaxy.”

With just an hour to go until daybreak, 2I/Borisov is due to appear above the horizon and make its way across the eastern sky. Durig’s long night is almost over.

Sewanee: The University of the South, the 1,600-student liberal arts college where Durig works, does not have the massive instruments needed to resolve faint night-sky objects. Instead, he must take hundreds of images of the same spot, then use a computer program to layer them so dim lights become clear.

The astronomer checks the focus of his 12-inch Schmidt-Cassegrain telescope and sets it to work, snapping pictures of the place where the interstellar comet is expected to be. He rubs a hand across his eyes, itchy from hours spent beneath the dim red lights he uses to protect his night vision.

It is tiring and often tedious work. Unlike discoverers, follow-up observers do not get to put their names on anything. And unlike researchers working at the world’s largest observatories, someone such as Durig faces real hurdles in achieving the findings that get published in prestigious journals.

Still, extraordinary discoveries must be confirmed and refined, again and again, by ordinary people. News may be made by breakthroughs, but knowledge is cemented in the follow-ups.

Here in Sewanee’s cramped observatory, cluttered with stacks of observation records and piles of broken equipment he hopes to one day refashion into something usable, “we’re doing essential science,” Durig says. “We’re filling in all the gaps.”

Once his telescope has captured an hour’s worth of snapshots, Durig compiles them into stacks of 100. In the images that emerge, colours are inverted, so stars appear as black smears on a white background. In the lower left is a dark dot encircled in a halo of fuzz.

Durig clicks forward to the next stack, and the dot moves by a centimetre. Another click, and it moves again.

That’s how he knows he is looking at the comet, something swift and surrounded by dust, something that does not behave like anything else in the sky.

Durig sends his images and a record of the comet’s location to the Minor Planet Center – another drop of data in the bucket of scientific knowledge.

Consistent observations like this, conducted by the same people using the same instruments every night, will be even more important once the comet becomes visible in the Southern Hemisphere, where many of the world’s biggest telescopes are positioned. They need to be pointed with extreme precision, so astronomers must have a firm handle on the comet’s trajectory and things that might subtly alter it, such as outbursts of gas.

An accurate orbit is also key to astronomers’ most ambitious plan for the comet.

“If we can get the best possible trajectory, so we can trace it back with the exact direction it’s coming in . . . maybe we can find out what the origin system is,” said Farnocchia, the Jet Propulsion Laboratory engineer.

Identifying the comet’s parent star would be a tremendous feat, the astronomical equivalent of tracing a message in a bottle back to the person who sent it millions of years ago from billions of miles away. It may not turn out to be possible, most scientists acknowledge.

But maybe that’s okay, they say. Because the comet will have already revealed so much else. It will have told us something about the birth of solar systems. It will have connected our home to the workings of the wider galaxy. And now that we have seen it, it is easier to believe that more are out there to be found.

Here on Earth, together in the darkness, Durig and his fellow astronomers will be waiting.

© The Washington Post 2019

#News

[thespace-dragon]

Hey everyone! Sorry for the delay, life happened for both of us, more so for Ani than me, but we got our asses in gear and got the chapter done.

Ani didn't draw anything for this chapter, but she is working on chapter 4 ideas, and if you smooze her enough, you might convince her to do double art. *wink wink nudge nudge*

Plus there's a playlist for this fic!! (2 actually) Songs and Scores!

Anywhoodles, enjoy the chapter! :D

Summary: After the Conclave blew up in everyone's face, the whole world went to shit. Lance didn't know what to make of it, but there was no way he would join the Inquisition to become their tool. Sure, he could close the rifts now, by some miracle - accident in his humble opinion - and he was doing his best to close them on his own. Trouble was, they were getting worse as time went on. After being tossed by a shade, he was seriously reconsidering doing this by himself. Needless to say, he got lucky that a cute Seeker came to his rescue after getting caught in a dragon's nest; the only problem was that cute Seeker was trying his damnedest to recruit him into the Inquisition.

Words: 4220

Ao3

Chapters: [-1-] [-2-]

Keith sat there frozen, not knowing what to say to this mage in front of him. It never got any easier the more stories he heard about lost loved ones, or the horrors refugees witnessed within the woods. He hadn't been there at the Conclave, had never met the Divine, but because he was a Seeker, he knew all about what happened.

He remained quiet, letting Lance find the courage to tell his story.

“I was only fifteen at the time, rebellious and bored of the Wildes. So I followed after her.” Lance was still toying with his food, not really caring if it was cold or not. “I followed her here, all the way to the Hinterlands. She met with the Divine, spoke on behalf of all the apostates.  She was well known, and most of the apostates deferred to her.”

Keith leaned forward, tilting his head. “What was her name? I want to say it was Amy, but that doesn’t sound right.”

Lance smiled softly. “Her name was Amelia. And I guess, I should clarify something.”

“And what’s that?”

“She wasn’t the Witch of the Wildes. There were many mages who lived in the Wildes, mostly because it was rich in plants we needed for potions. She was the one to treat the Hero, but there were others. I'm sure you've heard of them. Flemeth and Morrigan were another mother and child pair like my mother and me."

Keith nodded. “Flemeth disappeared at the beginning of the last blight and Morrigan disappeared not long after it ended.” They hadn’t been the most well liked either. He remembered a few conversations with King Alistair and the Champion of Kirkwall. They weren’t all that fond of either them.

“Right, well, my mother was talking with the Divine and things were getting heated. They were both trying to keep the peace, but the crowds of mages and Templars were throwing insults and accusations at each other every chance they got and it…they had to call for a break and reconvene within the hour.” Lance fiddled with his fingers, specks of frost collecting at the tips. He brushed them off and took a deep breath.

“My mother didn’t leave the hall like the rest of everyone else, she stayed with the Divine. She said something about being freer to talk with everyone gone."

Keith frowned slightly. “Where were you in the room?”

Lance looked up, a small grin flying across his face. “I managed to climb up into the rafters at this point. Not the most comfortable spot, but it had a good vantage point.” Then the grin dropped away. “But it wasn’t long after that when someone entered the room with them. A monster calling himself -”

“Zarkon.” The word felt like acid on Keith’s tongue. That monster had been the one to destroy the Conclave, leaving it in ruins. None of the mages or Templars there had made it out unscathed, the Divine’s body hadn’t been found.

“Him. He walked in like he owned the fort – I don’t even know what the place was called but it was huge. He had this orb with him and he was holding out in front of him, gloating about it. My mother stepped in front of the Divine and told him to leave. He wouldn't. Then he activated the orb."

Lance remembered how the orb came to life, glowing the same sickly green his Mark did, rippling like water. Zarkon had raised it higher, summoning more of its power. His face was twisted in a grotesque smile, showing off pointed teeth, wrinkled skin, and pupil-less, haunting yellow eyes. Lance still had nightmares about those eyes searching for him. The ground had started to shake, knocking everyone off balance and throwing him from the rafters. He fell heavily, landing on his shoulder. Zarkon had dropped the orb. It had rolled to the side of the room where Lance was. He remembered how he sat up and picked up the orb, how it burned into his hand. Zarkon’s scream of rage haunted him. The monster lunged at him but then everything had gone blank.

“Lance…?”

The mage looked up and met Keith’s concerned stare. It shook him to the core, it’s been five years since he had anyone look at him like that. Lance looked away and rubbed off the frost that had gathered on the table around his hands.

He refused to look at Keith when he returned to his story. “The orb gave me the mark and Zarkon screamed, launching a spell at me.” He gulped. “My – my mother redirected it to her. Then Zarkon…the spell…” Frost was spreading around him. “She… Sorry, but-”

A yell cut him off and both men jumped. Someone was on the floor next to their table, lying on a patch of ice.

Lance froze in place, his eyes locked onto the patron as he slowly stood, face furious.

“What in Maker’s breath is an apostate doing here?” he shouted.

Keith immediately went for his sword, grabbing it and sliding it half way out of its scabbard. Lance still hadn’t moved, staring at the man who had just fallen, eyes wide, full of shock and panic.

“Well?” the man sneered. “Are you going to answer me? Or did some demon take your tongue along with your mind?”

Lance blinked and looked around. People were staring, muttering about the mage in the tavern, judging him. Just like always. He took a deep breath, eyes slipping closed as he found his center.

The man planted a meaty hand on the table, right in front of him and leaned in. “Are you possessed, apostate? Is the Inquisition going to make you Tranquil?”

He opened his eyes and glanced at Keith and shook his head slightly. Keith was inclined to ignore him and step in if the man continued to make comments. Lance stood up and the man stumbled back with a shout.

“Don’t you dare try magic in here, apostate!”

Lance ignored him and grabbed his staff, magic sparking along its length. A quick tap to the ground and the ice was gone. He turned to Keith with a sad smile. “Thank you for the meal, but I’m afraid I should be going now.”

With that, he walked out.

Keith slammed his sword back into place and ran after him.

“Lance!”

By the time he had left the tavern, Lance was already shoving his way through a group of Templars. He rushed over but was stopped by a wall of ice. The foot of it extended out and caught all of the Templars feet, rendering them immobile. Through the ice, Keith could see Lance leaving the village, shoulders slumped and staff clenched tightly in one fist.

Keith pounded on the ice in frustration. “Dammit.”

It was dark by the time Lance returned to his cabin. The eyes of wildlife watching him as he summoned a small wisp to light his way. His part of the Hinterlands, at least the part that he traveled most of often, was nearly void of any other activity besides himself and the rifts.

But that didn't stop the fact that a Seeker, of all people, now knew where he lived. Lance had nowhere else to go, he was stuck in the Hinterlands. Even with the war restarting, there was no guarantee anywhere else was going to be as accepting of mages. Sure, he could travel to Orlais, maybe Tevinter if he was feeling adventurous, but those places were so far away, plus Orlais force required mages to join a circle. There was no freelancing like he was now. And regardless of the fact that the Inquisition was trying to create peace in this fucked up world, he felt that he owed the world something.

It had been his fault that the rift had even opened up in the first place. The orb had seared its mark into his hand, latching onto his magic and used it to rip open the rift that hung over the remnants of the Conclave.

Lance sighed and clenched his staff tighter, sparks racing along it. He couldn't believe that he lost himself in the tavern. Lost himself in front of Keith. He felt like a novice again, just barely understanding his magic. If he thought about it, he really was a one again. The mark took what he knew and threw it out the window and over a cliff. The past five years, he has been trying to regain the control he once had. Maker knew he had it. It was just a matter of working for it.

It had been by chance that he figured out how to close the rifts and sheer luck that he was able to find his mother's journal in his ransacked hut back in the Wildes by the time he had returned. She had always been smart in that regard; nothing was flashy, nothing looked expensive. Everything was nondescript, never catching the eye unless you knew what you were looking for. So when he had found it, he cried. Damn near bawling. His body had been nearly torn to pieces, he was starving, bruises and burns and gashes - everything that was short of a broken bone had happened to him. He was so strung out, literally on his last legs when he made it home. That journal had been his saving grace. If it weren't for his mother's notes, he would have died not long after and Zarkon would have free reign of the world.

Lance dispelled the wisp and walked into his cabin, locking the door behind him. He was secretly glad that Keith hadn't followed him beyond the ice wall. He simply felt too tired to deal with anyone after that. The man who had slipped was just like any other, shouting at him, throwing angry slurs till he left. Of course, it would have ended quicker, albeit violently, if he had used his magic to shut the man up. It wouldn't have been the first time Lance felt that urge. Every time it happened, he was more inclined to do it. And that man slamming his hand on the table, leaning into his space, and shouting at him nearly gave him cause to. But Keith had been sitting across from him...

And why it mattered that Keith, a Seeker from the Inquisition, had been there was lost to him.

Why was it Keith who made him stop? After all these years, it shouldn't have mattered.

Lance stripped down and collapsed into his bed, falling onto his side. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Dark gray eyes stared back at him, framed with dark lashes and long dark bangs falling into them. Lance let the breath go, running a hand over his face. Maker, this was too much...

Thump! Thump! Thump!

He groaned and rolled over, shoving his face into his flimsy pillow and tugged the blanket farther over his head.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

“Lance!”

He rolled back over and screwed up his face, scowling at his ceiling. The pounding at his door was doing nothing for the headache he was dealing with from a sleepless night; at least he had been productive and starting a few of the potions he absolutely needed. He was certain he looked dreadful too, not having done his routine since the Frostback incident. He felt like the Fade would open up and take him any moment, anything to just slee –

Thump! Thump! Thump!

“Lance, I swear on the Maker, if you don’t answer you fucking door, I’m kicking it in!”

Lance groaned. As much as he would love to ignore Keith at the moment, he would really love to keep his door. He rolled out of bed, slipped on a pair of pants and trudged his way to the door. He ripped it open and glared at the seeker before him.

“Has it occurred to you that not everyone wakes up this early?” he groused. The sun was barely over the horizon.

Keith had his fist raised, ready to pound Lance’s door again, and his mouth open. He took in Lance’s appearance – bed head, wrinkled pants, and bags under his eyes – slammed his mouth shut and took a quick step back, lowering his hand. Had the mage not gotten any sleep last night?

"I – uh, I'm sorry but, Lance, we - we should talk." Keith stumbled over his words, barely making a coherent sentence.

Lance blinked and narrowed his eyes. “Talk about what.”

“About the tavern last night.”

Lance took a deep breath and opened the door further. No use delaying it. “Fine. There's no point saying no since you'll just be here next morning anyways." He stepped aside and let Keith enter.

His home was a mess, littered with potions in the middle of being brewed, plants were potted and placed near the windows. The shelves were stuffed with trinkets and garbage alike, packed and dangerously close to overflowing onto the cluttered floor – five years of living by yourself gave you the right to be a little messy. Baskets filled with ingredients lined empty spaces by the wall, making the overall size of the room feel smaller than it already was. The desk where he worked on potions was soiled with liquids both wet and drying, several long-term concoctions bubbling under tin lids. His mother’s book and his were open on stands, notes scrawled into the margins on his mother’s and diagrams filling his own.

A few decorative pelts were pinned to the walls, most of which were worn and patchy from exposure to various chemicals and steeped plants. There was an impressive scorch mark on the wall above his desk where one of his earlier potions had gone wrong and blown up in his face. He had been trying one of his mother’s more difficult concoctions just after he finished fixing the place up. The blackened ceiling was something he was used to seeing every time he woke up now. And it was a constant reminder to wear eye protection while working since he'd nearly lost his sight the first time.

The stone floor was marbled with stains, which he’d tried to cover with a few carpets stitched with filigree. The interior overall was dimly lit by an oil lamp on his desk and a couple torches on the walls that had burned close to ash, and he made a mental note to make more later.

“It’s not much,” Lance said casually, letting the door fall shut after the other stepped in. “But it’s home.”

Keith took it all in, a little surprised Lance had given in so easily. He really hadn’t seen anything so lived in, and despite the clutter, it was well loved. As he was still staring at the mage’s home, Lance brushed passed him and made for one of the bubbling pots on the desk, lifting the lid and eyeing its contents. The smell was sickly sweet and strong.

He coughed and covered his nose and mouth with a gloved hand. Lance glanced at him but did nothing to the potion. Instead, he reached for the window and opened it, letting in the morning chill. The wind rustled the leaves, whispering through the tall grass surrounding the hut. Sunlight trickled, catching the different colored mists from the potions. Lance bustled about, turning down the flames underneath a few and uncapping the others, letting more smells take over the small room. Then he was across the hut and opening a second window.

The cross breeze that resulted lessened the scents that were assaulting Keith’s nose and made them bearable. He took a deep refreshing breath and let it out steadily.

“What exactly is it you want to talk about, Keith?” Lance asked as he threw on the tunic he had been wearing yesterday. “It’s not like I have dealt with those situations before.”

Keith blinked and then shook his head. “I’m not looking for you to defend yourself, Lance. I wanted to apologize for putting you in that situation.”

The mage clicked his tongue and moved over to his potions again. “I assure you, I am able to control myself. The likelihood –”

“I am not doubting your abilities. I made you remember a painful memory. I’ve worked with plenty of mages, and memories that bring up strong emotions make them lose a small amount of control. The ice patch that you created was normal.”

Lance didn’t look at the seeker, but Keith saw his shoulders slump as he continued to stir and evaluate his work. “I appreciate hearing that.”

Keith blushed lightly. It had only been three days of knowing Lance and already every time he opened his mouth, Keith was prepared for a sarcastic quip. Even when he was telling his story last night, there was that dryness in his voice he equated to unwilling acceptance. But the voice Lance just spoke with, even distracted, full and void of that dry humor Keith had been subject to.

“I, uh, you’re welcome.”

Lance looked up and smirked, not missing the way Keith stuttered. He straightened, one hand propped on his hip and the other still stirring a potion. “Is that all you needed to say at the crack of dawn, Seeker?”

There it was. Keith felt himself relax and stepped up to the banter. “It’s Keith. Just Keith.”

“Oh-ho? Explain the ‘all-seeing-eye’ emblazoned everywhere on your armor, Keith.” Even in jest, Keith fought down a shiver and a blush. His name sounded too good falling out of Lance’s mouth-

Maker, Keith, get it together.

He scowled back at Lance. “It’s the sign of the Inquisition.”

Lance rolled his eyes and pulled the stirrer out of the pot, tapped it a few times before setting it down. “Yes, but only the Seekers get a shield with the Eye on it,” he crooned as he brushed by him, winking.

The nerve of this man.

Keith glared and retorted, “Just because I have the title, doesn’t mean I like to be referred by it.”

Lance laughed and walked by him, flasks in hand. “You don’t get a rush from being referred to with your title? What a strange Seeker you are, Keith.”

The seeker rolled his eyes and followed Lance closer to where he was working, prepping the flasks with splash of water and dumping it out the window before pouring his potion into them. The current brew he was working with was bright red, almost as vibrant as blood.

Keith let his curiosity get the better of him. “What are these potions?”

Corking a flask, Lance glanced up at him. He swirled it a few times before setting it on the desk and letting it settle. “It’s a healing potion. Does nothing to really close wounds, but it does restore some energy and slows bleeding some.”

He hummed and watched Lance do the same thing until all the flasks were full. He kept out of the way as Lance bustled around. The next potion to be poured was a glowing blue. Lyrium.

“I thought you said you were out of lyrium?” he asked.

“I managed to find a small deposit last night,” Lance explained, pouring it into several small vials. “It wasn’t great quality, nothing like back at those caves yesterday.”

“There’s different qualities?”

Lance grinned and handed him one of the vials. “See how this potion is thick and fairly cloudy?”

Keith held the vial up, letting the light catch it. The liquid moved slower than the health potion Lance had just poured, and it not nearly as clear as some of the other lyrium potions he had seen other mages use. Allura's, in particular, were nearly as clear as spring water.

Lance continued to explain, “The fogginess comes from all the extra mineral deposits that end up in the lyrium ore. For the Hinterlands, this isn’t that bad, but the vein I had found before it turned to red lyrium was the clearest in the area I’ve come across.”

"There's an enchantress who's lyrium is almost as clear as water. She imports it from Orlais."

"Of course she does," Lance scoffed, disdain dripping from his voice.

"She doesn't keep it all to herself."

"Oh, I'm sure she holds a soft spot for all mages from the circles. Orlais isn't forgiving about apostates either."

Keith sighed and looked away from Lance. He could practically feel the other man bristling from the mere mention of anyone from the Inquisition.

"Why do you hate the Inquisition again?" He asked, exasperated.

The mage continued about his business with his potions, pouring more vials of a third dark liquid. As a seeker, Keith could feel the power coming off of it.

"It comes to most of the Inquisition thinking they are right, all-knowing, and overconfident in their abilities. They disrupted everything and make too much noise."

Lance sounded like a pouting child and Keith couldn't stop the huff of laughter escaping him. "It sounds more like a personal reason than the Inquisition disturbing your way of life, Lance." He met the mage's icy glare, bemused.

Lance narrowed his eyes. "Look, you may show up here before the sun does, avert a panic attack, and help save my life from a dragon, but that doesn't entitle you to more of my personal life than I am willing to give. Last night was an exception. That's all you're going to get, Seeker."

Keith raised his hands in surrender. “Fair enough, I didn’t mean to pry.”

That seemed to do the trick. Lance settled and finished pouring out all of his potions, one a darker red and similar to the one he started with and the other was an odd green mix and smelled horrible. Lance was unperturbed by the smells while Keith fought the need to retch. The mage packed them all away into separate trunks, divisions in place to keep them from breaking. The sides were burned and some of the edges were splintering. It honestly looked like Lance had simply grabbed these from an abandoned cart and repurposed them.

Lance just carried on, seeming to forget that Keith was even standing in the middle of his home. Keith didn't mind too much, he was used to watching Allura, the enchantress from Orlais, as she worked about her potions and spells. She muttered to herself much more than Lance did, and it was always funny to see her jump when he made a remark on one of her comments. Made for a good laugh, especially when he shared an evening drink with Shiro or Pidge. But Lance simply flipped through the pages of the two books on his desk, making notes in the one on the left with a piece of charcoal. He drew diagrams, lines of spells running along the side of the page he was working on.

Keith took it all in; the way Lance moved, his facial expressions as he concentrated and figured something out. Even the way he folded his lean body into the chair at his desk, one foot propped up on the seat, knee close to his chest and the other stretched out to the side. It was amazing that a position like that could even be considered comfortable. Yet Lance scrawled away in one book, full lines appearing on the page while making minor notes in the other. It was amazing to watch. Allura rarely took notes, reading tombs and immediately understanding them.

He took a couple steps closer and looked over Lance’s shoulder, reading what he was writing. From what he could tell, Lance was actually taking the difficult spells in one book and simplifying them down.

“Why are you altering these spells?” he asked.

Lance glanced over his shoulder. “It makes them easier to cast, not so much of my power is spent going through the chanting.”

“You’re the only mage I’ve seen do this.”

“Not many bother to learn beyond memorization, even the circle mages.” With that, Lance wrote down one final line and closed both books. He stood up and Keith stepped back to give him room.

By now the sun was well on its way to its high point in the sky and the air had warmed up. Lance's home had been warm to begin with, even with the breeze flowing through it, but now it was becoming uncomfortable for Keith. He pulled at his neckline and moved to a window to catch more of the breeze.

"If the armor is so uncomfortable, why do you wear it?" Lance asked as he packed up his workstation.

“Part of the uniform.”

He snorted. “The Inquisition has a uniform? Maker, you lot really are a cult.”

Keith rolled his eyes. "Not a cult, just an organization," he shot back.

Lance’s blue eyes flashed humor and Keith found himself grinning. The owner of the hut pulled on his boots, also taking the time to place two golden necklaces over his head. “I’m heading to the river; you’re welcome to join me.”

He lifted his bag onto his shoulder and walked to the door, not waiting to see if Keith was following him before stepping outside.

Keith, later that night, was embarrassed to say how close he was when he followed Lance out.

[kiwi-writes-stuff]

Origin story: Starguardian Luxanna

So on a whim i started writing an origin story on my favorite skin series and with the maybe comming out Starguardian Ezreal whar better time to write about em then now? This is an AU obviously.

Im only writing origin stories and not alot of stuff that happens inbetween cause thats what i want to write. After im done i might write more into my head canony universe for the starguardians but for now enjoy :u

A Star Guardian Story

Act 1: Luxanna, enters the battlefield

"Welcome new students to high school!” the Principal at Demacia high spoke with enthusiasm that almost disturbed the students. tired high schoolers coming back from summer break were gathered in the gymnasium to listen to the faculty make cheesey promises for the new year, but the schools idol and saving grace entered the stage and the 2nd years and up went crazy.

“Hello fellow students, My name is Luxanna and I will be your Student Council President for this year.” she smiled and waved as the crowd went wild, a few first year girls rolled their eyes at the boys who proclaimed their love to Lux, shouting at the top of their lungs.

“Okay, Okay” she giggled to herself as the students cheers slowly died down “This will conclude the assembly please find the bulletins in the back of the gym to find your classroom assignments” she spoke with authority and firmness despite her hands shaking as she clasped them together in front of her. The students were dismissed shortly after Luxanna announcements.

    Luxanna sighed heavily as everyone turned their attention away from the stage. “T-That was so scary… why was i even convinced to do this” she spoke to herself as she tried to calm her hands shaking. “I don’t even know how Garen did this..”

Luxanna was a 2nd year and a well known honors student, she excelled in her studies just like her brother Garen, but Garen was far out of her league in popularity and confidence. When Garen was in his last year of High school she was starting her first year. Garen had already gained enough popularity to practically rule the school and win the schools vote to be student council president 3 years in a row. When Lux entered the school and people realized they were related her popularity skyrocketed and she was having trouble with all the attention.

“Luxanna! Hurry up you’re gonna miss class!”  a high pitched scream erupted from the crowd making a few heads turn her way. Lux snapped out of her thoughts and rushed off the stage gathering her thoughts.

“Jinx why did you have to get the attention of not just me” Lux hissed at her best friend since childhood.

Jinx laughed and slung her arm around Lux. “because if I didn’t you would still be a pretty pink statue! Plus I already found out we are in the same class again” she poked at Luxs tufts of pink hair making lux wave her hand away.

“Well if we’re gonna be late let’s hurry up and go.”Luxanna chuckled and Jinx smiled at her leading the way to their class.

≤p>LoL school: Time passes    

The bell rings and Jinx instantly shoots out her chair and almost flashes at Lux who was barely done putting up her journal.

    “First day of school means we walk to my house together right!?” Jinx was almost bouncing as she waited for lux to get ready. She almost stopped all together when lux looked up at her with a sad smile.

    “Im.. sorry Jinx, I can walk you home but i have to come back to school to finish my duties.. I am the student council prez this year” she spins her finger in an effort to sound a little excited.

    “But.. its tradition” Jinx’s face drooped into a pout as her pigtails almost looked like they did the same thing.

    “I know, that’s why i’ll walk you home but I can’t stay..” She gets up and hugs her friend but she didn’t return it

    “Okay..” Jinx said sadly before taking Luxs bag and heading out the classroom with her.

Scene Change: Jinx house/street.

   “Night Jinx, remember to do the homework that Mr. Twitch gave us.” she hugged her friend who was still pouting about her not staying. Lux rolled her eyes and smiled “Jinx come on, this is the first time i couldn’t stay over. I can always come over tomorrow, promise I have nothing going on tomorrow.”

Things to add.

    Jinx instantly perked up “ I have got to show you my new bebe guns then! Oh and-” Jinx started to rattle off all the things she just has to show lux and lux has to put a finger on her lips to stop the onslaught.

   "Jiinx I have to go, like now.” she looks down at the time on her phone and waves her friend good-bye. Jinx jumps up and down and waves until Lux was only a dot in her vision.

    Lux walked alone back to school hoping the principle wouldn’t get cross with her being so late. Suddenly a loud crash followed by a shockwave, strong enough to knock her off her feet, was heard. “Wh-what in the..? It’s not too far away..” she picks herself up dusting off her skirt before following were she had heard the sound.

    “What in the world is that..?” Lux peered into a hole that wasn’t that deep or huge in radius. “How did this cause what I felt?” she looked harder and saw a glowing rock that emanated energy and power. “..I feel drawn to it for some.. Reason..” Lux reached down into the hole and touched the rock and automatically overwhelmed with power causing a panicked scream to escape her.

    “Luxanna CrownGuard you have been chosen by the stars to lead the star guardians. An Impending threat is coming to your world and you need to prepare for war to protect it, and your universe”

    A mystical voice rang through her head as she struggled to pull away from the gem. Her body grew hot but it didn’t feel painful. She finally realized she wasn’t in any danger as she finally could pull her hand away, her breathing slowed and the panic was expelled from her body. She looked up and a glowing figure faced her.

   “Who are..” Luxanna could barely manage to utter out as the figure waved her hand “ I will tell you later but now you must fight!” the glowing figure dissipated and seemingly vanished.

    “Wait! Fight? I-I can’t fight, I never took a self defense class!?” Luxanna freaked out and looked at her hand that has touched the gem. She gasped as she looked at the pink bracelet that now found its way on her wrist.

    “Where did thi-” she was promptly cut off as 5 creatures of void surrounded her “w-wha…” panic rang throughout her once more as she stared at the void beings growing ever closer to her, hissing and screeching almost watching her every move waiting for any movement to strike her. All Lux could do was shake in fear as she clutched the bracelet.

    “I-Im scared, s-someone help me..” she curled up in a ball as the voidlings took their chance to attack. A sudden burst of light surrounded lux and she looked up almost confused on how she wasn’t hurt by now.

    “No one can help you but yourself. Get some courage and stand up for yourself, you are a star guardian be a symbol everyone can look up to and seek protection. Lux looked up and it wasn’t the same figure she saw, instead it looked like a complete copy of her but dressed in something pink and frilly and she had to admit it looked a little extra.

    “You can do it Luxanna, believe in yourself!” the figure holding off the voidlings soon disappeared just like the last and Lux gained a sense of responsibility, she stood up and pink energy emanated from her.

“I… I am a star guardian!” Lux declared with resolve and power. She was surrounded by by pink energy as her clothes changed and a wand appeared in her hand. She looked down at her transformation and realized she looked just like the figure from before. Luxanna looked back at the voidlings that were attacking her and they seemed to shake in fear at her power. Lux focused and summoned some power she didn’t know she had and blasted the voidlings away. Her transformation didn’t last to long after that as she reverted back and collapsed onto the ground. Galio, Garen and Jarven came running not to long after the scene and found Lux unconscious and picked her up taking her to her home.

“This.. will take some work” a mysterious figure watched on as it disappeared into the shadows.

[kashmiresims]

Heartbroken

First Post | Previous Post | Next Post 

Illyana Sanchez racked the pool balls, lifting the triangle and smiled at the perfect display before looking at the man to her left. He nodded his head, clearly impressed. She had been practicing. She eyed the white cue ball before lining up her stick and giving it a firm push which propelled the white ball into the perfect triangle and split the rest of the balls outward across the table.   Billiards was a staple of their Friday night routine when her boyfriend wasn't playing a show.  Adam Hamilton was a bassist for a local band in Memosa Bay called the 'Flying Snakes' and he met Illyana three years prior at a local music festival when she was playing guitar with her band, ‘The Raven Crowns.’  She initially was attracted him for his chiseled jaw and build of a track athlete but when they hung out, they had hit it off and eventually agreed to date exclusively. 

"Are you going to win this time?" he asked.   Her spirit for competition flared into her expressive eyes, "Here's to hoping." She had lost 30 consecutive games to him, but hadn't given up yet.   This evening, they were gathered at the pool table in the Isla Del Kashmire Community College recreation room which was also the ground floor of the dormitory on the campus.  Illyana attended school there and was working toward a journalism degree. Adam had dropped out of Sim State nearly a year ago to focus on playing in his band; he'd assured her it was only a temporary break.   She pushed the cue ball into a solid and it pocketed which made her do a fist-pump of delight.

She made her way to the opposite end of the table where the same had ended up rolling to and appraised the table and all the possibilities. There. The Blue solid. She lined up the white ball and made another shot. It pocketed as well.

"Look who's on a roll," Adam quipped.  

Illyana just gave a sarcastic smile and caressed his jaw with the end of her stick, leaving a smudge of chalk on his cheek,  "Your winning streak ends today, Hamilton."

His smile dissipated rather quickly. She turned a concerned eye to him, not suspecting her taunt could actually hurt his feelings.

"So, I need to tell you something," his tone was serious. She retracted her pool stick, struck by the sudden change. "What?" He set his own stick against the pool table and crossed his arms, looking like he'd rather not say. Was someone sick? Did he need money? It looked like the news was something grim from the way his eyes refused to suddenly meet hers. "Last weekend. After the show, I...hooked up with a girl." She didn't expect that. Her entire body seemed to freeze and she dropped her pool stick. It hit the floor with a loud clatter and then there was only silence. She had to process this. He cheated on her? He cheated on her and waited a week to tell her? Why so long? Why would he even cheat? Wasn't she good enough? Did he even love her? How could he if he had hooked up with someone else when he was her boyfriend? He had thrown three years of trust away in a single night all because...what? He couldn't keep it in his pants? "WHY?" she stepped forward and the anger she had been able to control erupted into her face and voice, heated and full of loathing. He looked a bit surprised at her ferocity but if he expected her to just accept this piece of news and move along like it didn't matter, or pretend it never happened then maybe he didn't know her after all. "It was a stupid mistake. The band went out for drinks, and we got caught up with some girls and one...” "I don't want to hear about the girl and don't try to blame this on alcohol!" Illyana all but shouted. "You asked why. So I'm explaining," he said calmly, "Just because you can't accept it, doesn't make it a lie." Illyana only glowered. Adam sighed with exasperation, "Y'see, this is why I didn't want to tell you. I knew you would react badly."   "HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO REACT!?" Illyana burst. The was infuriated at his patronizing tone. "Well I was hoping we could discuss this like adults," he crossed his arms, "but you're throwing a temper tantrum right now."

"Get out of my sight," Illyana tried to restrain her voice and demanded in a low tone. She couldn't take the sight of him anymore. She couldn't process it without wanting to punch him and she was not throwing a temper tantrum.

"So that's it? You’re mad at me for being honest and then you ask me why and not let me explain?"  

"GET OUT NOW!" Illyana pointed to the front door and screamed, feeling the heat wash over her face. She was lucky that most of her classmates were out in the city or had gone home to visit families for the weekend so no one was running in and asking what the problem was.

Adam held up his hands in resignation, they had fights before but with time Illyana would usually cool down. He simply turned his back on her and promptly left like she had demanded.  So why did she feel even worse now that he was gone?

Even though the small community campus was in the same town she had grown up in, Illyana had opted to board in the dorm. She ran to her room where she could be guaranteed solitude and desperately tried to contain the tears that were now trying to escape her. She tried to take deep breaths, at least she had learned through meditation that breathing would help calm the overwhelming sadness and anger that was now billowing inside her.  

One breath. Two breaths. Her throat felt so tight, her third breath became shaky and then a wail managed to escape followed by a downpour of tears.

As much as she wanted, she knew she couldn't be alone like this.

She was able to see enough through the wet blur to dial a number on her cell and blubber Adam's name. But his name was as far as she could say before breaking down into more sobs. Coherence was not an option any longer.

The voice on the other end of the line understood and told her it would be 20 minutes.

Illyana crumpled to the floor in the corner of her room, wiping at her eyes, and feeling utterly broken. How could he have done this to her? She thought they had something together. A fun, easy-going relationship full of music and adventure. She had often plugged in her Fender Stratocaster and jammed with him in his basement, she wrote him songs to play, and she'd been able to attend nearly all of his shows to support his band. Adam was the first she had ever fallen so hard and fast for.

Now she was infuriated by him and the thought of some nameless, faceless girl being allowed to have him after the one show Illyana couldn't attend because she had been studying for a midterm module that required her to write a 10 page essay and accompanying article. They had argued a little about her not being able to go, and she hoped to the great plumbbob in the sky that he hadn't cheated on her because of that.

That awful little thought sent her into another few minutes of her curling her knees to her chest and hugging them there to muffle her weeping sounds.

10 minutes later she heard a knock on her dorm door.

"In here," she muttered softly, blubbery still with wet-streaked cheeks she tried to dry with the sleeve of her shirt before anyone could see her.

Alarie Thackery barged in, "That bastard, what did he do this time? I'm going to kill him..."

She looked around the room and spotted Illyana on the floor and her frown softened. Leona Hillenburg was behind her looking sympathetic and concerned. Leona was who she had reached out to, but Leona must have enlisted Alarie for additional emotional support. Illyana didn’t mind, she needed all the comfort they could give.

Alarie dropped to her knees next to Illyana, "Want me to break his legs?"

Leona moved past them and stood against the wall while advising, "We're here to comfort, not maim."

Illyana just looked up at them with a hopeless expression. It always seemed like the world was against her.

It took a few minutes for her friends to coerce a valid sentence from Illyana on what had happened that rendered her a heaping ball of tears but they were both hugely sympathetic toward her and equally as distraught once they understood. This wasn't Illyana being overly dramatic like usual.

"Why does it hurt so much?” Illyana managed to ask.

“It’s called heartbreak for a reason,” Leona said sadly, pulling Illyana up into a tight hug. “We’ll help you get through it though.”

Illyana could feel another pair of arms encase them as Alarie joined in on their embrace. Illyana was so appreciative of them at that moment--she hadn’t seen much of her friends since the semester had started.

It didn’t feel any better, though; it still felt like there was a black hole inside her where her heart used to be. It was fresh and it hurt, and no matter how much she loved her friends, they couldn’t fill that void. 

[youdecode]

How to Get Your Mind off of Something? [Best Way to Shut Your Mind]

Thinking is the constant process vital for survival. All the major inventions you see around you first existed in thoughts and then in reality.

So in essence everything is created twice.

Powerful right?

It is the thoughts which provide value to the world. But it is the same thoughts which are capable of negatively affecting one’s life.

The most harmful thoughts are the thoughts which you do not want to think about.

If I say that there was a yellow elephant who ran out of the park. And now don’t think about its color being yellow.

What Did you just do?

Your head just visualized that yellow elephant because I told you not to think of it. Right!?

So one thing is clear that the more you try to get rid of them . . .

The more restricted thoughts will float across your head, dancing in all directions.

The outstanding performance of thoughts will continue and the repeated chitter chatter will not seem to end anytime soon.

Why is that the case?

Because your mind is not retrained. But don’t worry, I will explain in detail about how to get your mind off something. 

The problem which i would first of all address is about the victimized role which one takes up. Have you?

Do you think that you have no control of your thoughts and they can all day and night shake around?

If yes, then you have to jump out of this prey character you think you are stuck with.

Know that you have full authority to lend any thought a residence in your brain.

You are in control. Is it that easy you ask?

Yes, it is. And I will tell you why this sounds so good to be true.

Well, because it feels natural to allow the mind to get lost in despair and worry.

You need to break the natural feeling.

And it is fairly easy.

How?

Because now you are consciously mindful about this natural tendency of your mind and thus you can break and reframe it.

You will have to notice the thought patterns you have and then interrupt them before they become capable of giving you a headache.

Strategy #1. Be the Watcher

You need to separate yourself from your thoughts.

Imagine that it is a physical entity which you can plug in to work whenever you wish and detach from your head whenever it gets out of control. How?

The way you do this is by just observing your thoughts. Do not judge your thoughts.

Do not think about your thoughts. The keyword here is to observe .

Just observe what is going on in your mind. Yes this is the impartial manner you call it.

Visualize yourself just as an inspector who is consciously witnessing the thoughts. Just like any public scene you would witness.

What are you in essence doing?

You are making your thoughts meaningless. If you would not observe the thoughts then you would attach to it which will stimulate your feelings . . . you will feel worse.

But because you are just observing, you are disempowering them.

You are not allowing the thoughts to foster the emotions , your feelings.

So next time when you can not get your mind off something . . . practice this. You can do it throughout the day.

Example : Sally was insulted at her workplace in front of everyone. When she came home, her mind could not get off the phrase “ I was insulted” .

This looped for several hours. And finally stopped until Sally found my article! What she did instead was practising detachment.

She detached herself from the thought “I was insulted” , by removing I was . . .

Then she just as a nobody witnessed the thought which now has just turned to insult insult insult.

Instead of her insult , it became just another insult. She felt no emotion this time.

Sally successfully disempowered her thoughts. And right now winking at me!

If you have not met Sally then you might be new to our blogging world. Meet her here!

Strategy #2. Special Meditation

Luckily Sally does not have to try other techniques! But good news.

I have other strategies for you so that you for sure get your mind off of something! Which you are hardly trying to!

Another way in which you can become an observer of your thoughts is through meditation.

You are reading this personal development article thus I definitely know you know the basics. Now as you are meditating and inhaling/exhaling, do this:

Be conscious of “in” and “out” As you breathe in, assume that thoughts are coming in and as you breathe out let the gooo. Release them.

Focus on your breathing for monitoring how your thoughts arise and pass away.

As you see your annoying thoughts coming in and going out, take the role of an observer.

You have to view these thoughts from a distance without having any self-talk and without passing any internal comment plus judgement. 

Strategy #3. Name That Thought

Acknowledge the thought .

How to acknowledge them? By deeming them not more than thoughts.

The problem is that you attach so much yourself to the negative thoughts that you began to find them all true.

For instance, if you are thinking right now that “I’ll never get over this” then simply change the mental dialog to “I am having the thought that I’ll never get over this”

What you are doing by this super helpful technique is reinforcing the fact that you are not your negative thoughts.

You are different and they are different.

This differentiation is vital.

I am giving you one ninja tip here which is fun as well: When you acknowledge this thought give it a name. Call it douchebag or whatever And then repeat douchebag is saying that I Will never get over this!

See what works for you.

This reinforces the fact that you are not your thoughts.

Strategy # 4. Shout No

Do you realize why people fail in blocking the unwanted thoughts?

Because they are trying too hard. Because they are trying to escape in a wrong way.

Don’t try to escape from the thought rather STOP it on its track. Hmm powerful stuff here but how to do it?

The moment you feel the looping on. Simply say aloud “Stop”.

Yes vocalize. After shouting at it, you need to visualize a heavy metal wall slamming down the thoughts.

You can visualize that your thoughts are falling into a deep black endless hole.

You can also imagine putting all these thoughts into a balloon and then watch it floating away! Visualize in any way.

Strategy #5. Try ring Interruption technique

This technique involves the use of physical actions for interrupting your thought pattern. Follow along:

Wear any bracelet or ring.

Whenever your eyes see the ring , just notice the thoughts (here you can apply technique one: where you are just observing).

Then pull out that ring and pop it on your other hand. You are in essence blocking the flow through this method.

Keeping your head busy momentarily is powerful as it then becomes capable of thinking other things . . .

You can even go for bigger distractions like immersing yourself into something that involves brain power and focus. Like? Go over multiplication tables! Trust me it will distract you.

For larger distractions go on with memorization.

Memorize your favorite quotes, poems or even words from new language! This language part is my personal favorite.

 Strategy #6 . Challenge the Thought and Replace It

So far we have learned how to interrupt the thoughts and how to disassociate with the thoughts.

These elements are vital for retraining your brain.

Now you need to understand one thing that our mind does not like a vacuum thus it is vital for filling in the void by constructive thoughts.

We need to pour in new thoughts. If you ask why?

Then we at no cost want our mind to sink back into the old thinking patterns thus filling the void is vital. Don’t allow it to divert back.

How can you fill in?

The most common and the easiest method of filling the void is by challenging and replacing it.

You will not agree more that our thoughts are extremely exaggerated.

Every other thought is highly exaggerated. Now you tell me that do we take the exaggerations seriously?

No, right.

We laugh it off and sometimes challenge it if it is hindering the truth.

You need to question yourself for the thought which you cannot get your mind off. . . is it something exaggerated?

An example of an exaggerated thought is I can never do anything right.

You need to question such thoughts as this cannot be entirely true. As you have been doing several things well on many occasions.

Now your task here is to get specific about a certain situation where you have won and it completely defies the thought.

Give concrete examples of your previous win to counter any thought.

That win can be against anything, not necessarily against career goals.

Value these positive reminders.

You will find it hard at first to shift the thought and work towards replacement.

But eventually you will train your mind quickly. This will turn into your habit.

A habit which will give you the control of your whole reality.

A powerful tool which will always drag you out of self-sabotaging beliefs.

Strategy #7 Practice Acceptance

Now what if a thought you experience is not exaggeration. If it is just the reflection of reality?

Well, good question!

In that case, where you have legitimate reason for trusting the thought, you have to calm your mind and clear your head through acceptance.

Take out a journal and write “I accept that this is happening with me” . . . “I accept this happened” now list down any actions you can take to improve or rectify the thought.

Seek out anything positive from the disturbing thought which you cannot get your mind off something.

Acceptance technique is the last resort which you can take when cannot take escaping , challenging , and stopping is not an option.

When the thought is not useless.

 Strategy #8 Journaling

This is included as a separate technique for getting your mind off of something because it is transformative.

Journaling is an extremely powerful tool which I have become a fan of especially since life happened. It healed me .

It changed me.

Write down . . . yes get writing . Pour your thoughts not onto something digital but onto the paper. Feel the paper.

I have been through a rough patch where constant thoughts bother me, if you are my email friend then you already know and if you are not then become my friend today because I love you.

That phase taught me powerful journaling technique : Triple G (goal , gratitude, greif).

If you truly want a concrete strategy then I highly suggest you to look into it.

Any ways, back to this post. For now just let your thoughts flow else your time will be wasted.

Yes, the worst thing which I find about overthinking is the amount of time it wastes.

Till now you were allowing the thought to float timelessly in your head thus they were taking advantage.

But from now you will set a timer!

What ? Yesh you have to have a timer for these thoughts. Isn’t it great?

Set a timer for 10 minutes. And let out.

Everything in the journal. Every damn thing which is not getting off your mind.

Express through journaling in this worry time. You will not only get rid of the thought after 10 minute but also reach a creative solution. Your the veins of your hands triggers ideas in your mind. So write.

Seal the thoughts as you close the journal

Literally i cannot sleep before doing this journaling thing. I pour out my thoughts so they do not disturb me when I hit the bed.

And that is what exactly happened. As I close the journal , my thoughts get sealed with it. Try it yourself. [I have a course dedicated to life changing journaling technique]

Strategy #9 Take Mindful Action

After applying every technique mentioned above that can help, do not stop. Yes.

Channel your overthinking which is truly a pointless activity.

How good it would be if you could channel this thought into something productive?

Work towards your goals and priorities. Remember this is not a distraction but a real work.

A mindful action. That focuses on your life purpose.

Bonus:

Strategy #10  Prevention technique

Be mindful of the anchors. In neuro-linguistic programming, which I truly love, we call these anchors the trigger.

It is vital for you to know that which physical state, person or situation triggers your overthinking.

This Awareness will help you for the next time.

Final Thoughts on Decluttering Your Thoughts

Before you gooooo . . .

I know these were so many strategies.

And try them yourself and tell me the usefulness.

These strategies are the tools and think of them as weapons.

Now you can proudly say to yourself that you are well equipped and ready to face the next disturbing thought which will dare to mess around with your head.

Take the tools which you like , see what works best in retraining your mind constructively.

Decluttering is extremely vital not only for work but also health.

And health is wealth! Do not get discouraged in the start.

Your mind finds it hard to adjust to new behavior and Reaction patterns. But once it gets retrained. YOU WILL OVERPOWER YOUR REALITY.

Are you excited to streamline your life and eliminate these mental obstacles?

Which strategy did you like the most? I love to connect with the community.

I would love it if you would take 10 seconds out and comment. A proof you are ready to make a change! I AND Sally are waiting! 

The post How to Get Your Mind off of Something? [Best Way to Shut Your Mind] appeared first on You Decode.

[youdecode]

How to Get Your Mind off of Something? [Best Way to Shut Your Mind]

Thinking is the constant process vital for survival. All the major inventions you see around you first existed in thoughts and then in reality.

So in essence everything is created twice.

Powerful right?

It is the thoughts which provide value to the world. But it is the same thoughts which are capable of negatively affecting one’s life.

The most harmful thoughts are the thoughts which you do not want to think about.

If I say that there was a yellow elephant who ran out of the park. And now don’t think about its color being yellow.

What Did you just do?

Your head just visualized that yellow elephant because I told you not to think of it. Right!?

So one thing is clear that the more you try to get rid of them . . .

The more restricted thoughts will float across your head, dancing in all directions.

The outstanding performance of thoughts will continue and the repeated chitter chatter will not seem to end anytime soon.

Why is that the case?

Because your mind is not retrained. But don’t worry, I will explain in detail about how to get your mind off something. 

The problem which i would first of all address is about the victimized role which one takes up. Have you?

Do you think that you have no control of your thoughts and they can all day and night shake around?

If yes, then you have to jump out of this prey character you think you are stuck with.

Know that you have full authority to lend any thought a residence in your brain.

You are in control. Is it that easy you ask?

Yes, it is. And I will tell you why this sounds so good to be true.

Well, because it feels natural to allow the mind to get lost in despair and worry.

You need to break the natural feeling.

And it is fairly easy.

How?

Because now you are consciously mindful about this natural tendency of your mind and thus you can break and reframe it.

You will have to notice the thought patterns you have and then interrupt them before they become capable of giving you a headache.

Strategy #1. Be the Watcher

You need to separate yourself from your thoughts.

Imagine that it is a physical entity which you can plug in to work whenever you wish and detach from your head whenever it gets out of control. How?

The way you do this is by just observing your thoughts. Do not judge your thoughts.

Do not think about your thoughts. The keyword here is to observe .

Just observe what is going on in your mind. Yes this is the impartial manner you call it.

Visualize yourself just as an inspector who is consciously witnessing the thoughts. Just like any public scene you would witness.

What are you in essence doing?

You are making your thoughts meaningless. If you would not observe the thoughts then you would attach to it which will stimulate your feelings . . . you will feel worse.

But because you are just observing, you are disempowering them.

You are not allowing the thoughts to foster the emotions , your feelings.

So next time when you can not get your mind off something . . . practice this. You can do it throughout the day.

Example : Sally was insulted at her workplace in front of everyone. When she came home, her mind could not get off the phrase “ I was insulted” .

This looped for several hours. And finally stopped until Sally found my article! What she did instead was practising detachment.

She detached herself from the thought “I was insulted” , by removing I was . . .

Then she just as a nobody witnessed the thought which now has just turned to insult insult insult.

Instead of her insult , it became just another insult. She felt no emotion this time.

Sally successfully disempowered her thoughts. And right now winking at me!

If you have not met Sally then you might be new to our blogging world. Meet her here!

Strategy #2. Special Meditation

Luckily Sally does not have to try other techniques! But good news.

I have other strategies for you so that you for sure get your mind off of something! Which you are hardly trying to!

Another way in which you can become an observer of your thoughts is through meditation.

You are reading this personal development article thus I definitely know you know the basics. Now as you are meditating and inhaling/exhaling, do this:

Be conscious of “in” and “out” As you breathe in, assume that thoughts are coming in and as you breathe out let the gooo. Release them.

Focus on your breathing for monitoring how your thoughts arise and pass away.

As you see your annoying thoughts coming in and going out, take the role of an observer.

You have to view these thoughts from a distance without having any self-talk and without passing any internal comment plus judgement. 

Strategy #3. Name That Thought

Acknowledge the thought .

How to acknowledge them? By deeming them not more than thoughts.

The problem is that you attach so much yourself to the negative thoughts that you began to find them all true.

For instance, if you are thinking right now that “I’ll never get over this” then simply change the mental dialog to “I am having the thought that I’ll never get over this”

What you are doing by this super helpful technique is reinforcing the fact that you are not your negative thoughts.

You are different and they are different.

This differentiation is vital.

I am giving you one ninja tip here which is fun as well: When you acknowledge this thought give it a name. Call it douchebag or whatever And then repeat douchebag is saying that I Will never get over this!

See what works for you.

This reinforces the fact that you are not your thoughts.

Strategy # 4. Shout No

Do you realize why people fail in blocking the unwanted thoughts?

Because they are trying too hard. Because they are trying to escape in a wrong way.

Don’t try to escape from the thought rather STOP it on its track. Hmm powerful stuff here but how to do it?

The moment you feel the looping on. Simply say aloud “Stop”.

Yes vocalize. After shouting at it, you need to visualize a heavy metal wall slamming down the thoughts.

You can visualize that your thoughts are falling into a deep black endless hole.

You can also imagine putting all these thoughts into a balloon and then watch it floating away! Visualize in any way.

Strategy #5. Try ring Interruption technique

This technique involves the use of physical actions for interrupting your thought pattern. Follow along:

Wear any bracelet or ring.

Whenever your eyes see the ring , just notice the thoughts (here you can apply technique one: where you are just observing).

Then pull out that ring and pop it on your other hand. You are in essence blocking the flow through this method.

Keeping your head busy momentarily is powerful as it then becomes capable of thinking other things . . .

You can even go for bigger distractions like immersing yourself into something that involves brain power and focus. Like? Go over multiplication tables! Trust me it will distract you.

For larger distractions go on with memorization.

Memorize your favorite quotes, poems or even words from new language! This language part is my personal favorite.

 Strategy #6 . Challenge the Thought and Replace It

So far we have learned how to interrupt the thoughts and how to disassociate with the thoughts.

These elements are vital for retraining your brain.

Now you need to understand one thing that our mind does not like a vacuum thus it is vital for filling in the void by constructive thoughts.

We need to pour in new thoughts. If you ask why?

Then we at no cost want our mind to sink back into the old thinking patterns thus filling the void is vital. Don’t allow it to divert back.

How can you fill in?

The most common and the easiest method of filling the void is by challenging and replacing it.

You will not agree more that our thoughts are extremely exaggerated.

Every other thought is highly exaggerated. Now you tell me that do we take the exaggerations seriously?

No, right.

We laugh it off and sometimes challenge it if it is hindering the truth.

You need to question yourself for the thought which you cannot get your mind off. . . is it something exaggerated?

An example of an exaggerated thought is I can never do anything right.

You need to question such thoughts as this cannot be entirely true. As you have been doing several things well on many occasions.

Now your task here is to get specific about a certain situation where you have won and it completely defies the thought.

Give concrete examples of your previous win to counter any thought.

That win can be against anything, not necessarily against career goals.

Value these positive reminders.

You will find it hard at first to shift the thought and work towards replacement.

But eventually you will train your mind quickly. This will turn into your habit.

A habit which will give you the control of your whole reality.

A powerful tool which will always drag you out of self-sabotaging beliefs.

Strategy #7 Practice Acceptance

Now what if a thought you experience is not exaggeration. If it is just the reflection of reality?

Well, good question!

In that case, where you have legitimate reason for trusting the thought, you have to calm your mind and clear your head through acceptance.

Take out a journal and write “I accept that this is happening with me” . . . “I accept this happened” now list down any actions you can take to improve or rectify the thought.

Seek out anything positive from the disturbing thought which you cannot get your mind off something.

Acceptance technique is the last resort which you can take when cannot take escaping , challenging , and stopping is not an option.

When the thought is not useless.

 Strategy #8 Journaling

This is included as a separate technique for getting your mind off of something because it is transformative.

Journaling is an extremely powerful tool which I have become a fan of especially since life happened. It healed me .

It changed me.

Write down . . . yes get writing . Pour your thoughts not onto something digital but onto the paper. Feel the paper.

I have been through a rough patch where constant thoughts bother me, if you are my email friend then you already know and if you are not then become my friend today because I love you.

That phase taught me powerful journaling technique : Triple G (goal , gratitude, greif).

If you truly want a concrete strategy then I highly suggest you to look into it.

Any ways, back to this post. For now just let your thoughts flow else your time will be wasted.

Yes, the worst thing which I find about overthinking is the amount of time it wastes.

Till now you were allowing the thought to float timelessly in your head thus they were taking advantage.

But from now you will set a timer!

What ? Yesh you have to have a timer for these thoughts. Isn’t it great?

Set a timer for 10 minutes. And let out.

Everything in the journal. Every damn thing which is not getting off your mind.

Express through journaling in this worry time. You will not only get rid of the thought after 10 minute but also reach a creative solution. Your the veins of your hands triggers ideas in your mind. So write.

Seal the thoughts as you close the journal

Literally i cannot sleep before doing this journaling thing. I pour out my thoughts so they do not disturb me when I hit the bed.

And that is what exactly happened. As I close the journal , my thoughts get sealed with it. Try it yourself. [I have a course dedicated to life changing journaling technique]

Strategy #9 Take Mindful Action

After applying every technique mentioned above that can help, do not stop. Yes.

Channel your overthinking which is truly a pointless activity.

How good it would be if you could channel this thought into something productive?

Work towards your goals and priorities. Remember this is not a distraction but a real work.

A mindful action. That focuses on your life purpose.

Bonus:

Strategy #10  Prevention technique

Be mindful of the anchors. In neuro-linguistic programming, which I truly love, we call these anchors the trigger.

It is vital for you to know that which physical state, person or situation triggers your overthinking.

This Awareness will help you for the next time.

Final Thoughts on Decluttering Your Thoughts

Before you gooooo . . .

I know these were so many strategies.

And try them yourself and tell me the usefulness.

These strategies are the tools and think of them as weapons.

Now you can proudly say to yourself that you are well equipped and ready to face the next disturbing thought which will dare to mess around with your head.

Take the tools which you like , see what works best in retraining your mind constructively.

Decluttering is extremely vital not only for work but also health.

And health is wealth! Do not get discouraged in the start.

Your mind finds it hard to adjust to new behavior and Reaction patterns. But once it gets retrained. YOU WILL OVERPOWER YOUR REALITY.

Are you excited to streamline your life and eliminate these mental obstacles?

Which strategy did you like the most? I love to connect with the community.

I would love it if you would take 10 seconds out and comment. A proof you are ready to make a change! I AND Sally are waiting! 

The post How to Get Your Mind off of Something? [Best Way to Shut Your Mind] appeared first on You Decode.

[youdecode]

How to Get Your Mind off of Something? [Best Way to Shut Your Mind]

Thinking is the constant process vital for survival. All the major inventions you see around you first existed in thoughts and then in reality.

So in essence everything is created twice.

Powerful right?

It is the thoughts which provide value to the world. But it is the same thoughts which are capable of negatively affecting one’s life.

The most harmful thoughts are the thoughts which you do not want to think about.

If I say that there was a yellow elephant who ran out of the park. And now don’t think about its color being yellow.

What Did you just do?

Your head just visualized that yellow elephant because I told you not to think of it. Right!?

So one thing is clear that the more you try to get rid of them . . .

The more restricted thoughts will float across your head, dancing in all directions.

The outstanding performance of thoughts will continue and the repeated chitter chatter will not seem to end anytime soon.

Why is that the case?

Because your mind is not retrained. But don’t worry, I will explain in detail about how to get your mind off something. 

The problem which i would first of all address is about the victimized role which one takes up. Have you?

Do you think that you have no control of your thoughts and they can all day and night shake around?

If yes, then you have to jump out of this prey character you think you are stuck with.

Know that you have full authority to lend any thought a residence in your brain.

You are in control. Is it that easy you ask?

Yes, it is. And I will tell you why this sounds so good to be true.

Well, because it feels natural to allow the mind to get lost in despair and worry.

You need to break the natural feeling.

And it is fairly easy.

How?

Because now you are consciously mindful about this natural tendency of your mind and thus you can break and reframe it.

You will have to notice the thought patterns you have and then interrupt them before they become capable of giving you a headache.

Strategy #1. Be the Watcher

You need to separate yourself from your thoughts.

Imagine that it is a physical entity which you can plug in to work whenever you wish and detach from your head whenever it gets out of control. How?

The way you do this is by just observing your thoughts. Do not judge your thoughts.

Do not think about your thoughts. The keyword here is to observe .

Just observe what is going on in your mind. Yes this is the impartial manner you call it.

Visualize yourself just as an inspector who is consciously witnessing the thoughts. Just like any public scene you would witness.

What are you in essence doing?

You are making your thoughts meaningless. If you would not observe the thoughts then you would attach to it which will stimulate your feelings . . . you will feel worse.

But because you are just observing, you are disempowering them.

You are not allowing the thoughts to foster the emotions , your feelings.

So next time when you can not get your mind off something . . . practice this. You can do it throughout the day.

Example : Sally was insulted at her workplace in front of everyone. When she came home, her mind could not get off the phrase “ I was insulted” .

This looped for several hours. And finally stopped until Sally found my article! What she did instead was practising detachment.

She detached herself from the thought “I was insulted” , by removing I was . . .

Then she just as a nobody witnessed the thought which now has just turned to insult insult insult.

Instead of her insult , it became just another insult. She felt no emotion this time.

Sally successfully disempowered her thoughts. And right now winking at me!

If you have not met Sally then you might be new to our blogging world. Meet her here!

Strategy #2. Special Meditation

Luckily Sally does not have to try other techniques! But good news.

I have other strategies for you so that you for sure get your mind off of something! Which you are hardly trying to!

Another way in which you can become an observer of your thoughts is through meditation.

You are reading this personal development article thus I definitely know you know the basics. Now as you are meditating and inhaling/exhaling, do this:

Be conscious of “in” and “out” As you breathe in, assume that thoughts are coming in and as you breathe out let the gooo. Release them.

Focus on your breathing for monitoring how your thoughts arise and pass away.

As you see your annoying thoughts coming in and going out, take the role of an observer.

You have to view these thoughts from a distance without having any self-talk and without passing any internal comment plus judgement. 

Strategy #3. Name That Thought

Acknowledge the thought .

How to acknowledge them? By deeming them not more than thoughts.

The problem is that you attach so much yourself to the negative thoughts that you began to find them all true.

For instance, if you are thinking right now that “I’ll never get over this” then simply change the mental dialog to “I am having the thought that I’ll never get over this”

What you are doing by this super helpful technique is reinforcing the fact that you are not your negative thoughts.

You are different and they are different.

This differentiation is vital.

I am giving you one ninja tip here which is fun as well: When you acknowledge this thought give it a name. Call it douchebag or whatever And then repeat douchebag is saying that I Will never get over this!

See what works for you.

This reinforces the fact that you are not your thoughts.

Strategy # 4. Shout No

Do you realize why people fail in blocking the unwanted thoughts?

Because they are trying too hard. Because they are trying to escape in a wrong way.

Don’t try to escape from the thought rather STOP it on its track. Hmm powerful stuff here but how to do it?

The moment you feel the looping on. Simply say aloud “Stop”.

Yes vocalize. After shouting at it, you need to visualize a heavy metal wall slamming down the thoughts.

You can visualize that your thoughts are falling into a deep black endless hole.

You can also imagine putting all these thoughts into a balloon and then watch it floating away! Visualize in any way.

Strategy #5. Try ring Interruption technique

This technique involves the use of physical actions for interrupting your thought pattern. Follow along:

Wear any bracelet or ring.

Whenever your eyes see the ring , just notice the thoughts (here you can apply technique one: where you are just observing).

Then pull out that ring and pop it on your other hand. You are in essence blocking the flow through this method.

Keeping your head busy momentarily is powerful as it then becomes capable of thinking other things . . .

You can even go for bigger distractions like immersing yourself into something that involves brain power and focus. Like? Go over multiplication tables! Trust me it will distract you.

For larger distractions go on with memorization.

Memorize your favorite quotes, poems or even words from new language! This language part is my personal favorite.

 Strategy #6 . Challenge the Thought and Replace It

So far we have learned how to interrupt the thoughts and how to disassociate with the thoughts.

These elements are vital for retraining your brain.

Now you need to understand one thing that our mind does not like a vacuum thus it is vital for filling in the void by constructive thoughts.

We need to pour in new thoughts. If you ask why?

Then we at no cost want our mind to sink back into the old thinking patterns thus filling the void is vital. Don’t allow it to divert back.

How can you fill in?

The most common and the easiest method of filling the void is by challenging and replacing it.

You will not agree more that our thoughts are extremely exaggerated.

Every other thought is highly exaggerated. Now you tell me that do we take the exaggerations seriously?

No, right.

We laugh it off and sometimes challenge it if it is hindering the truth.

You need to question yourself for the thought which you cannot get your mind off. . . is it something exaggerated?

An example of an exaggerated thought is I can never do anything right.

You need to question such thoughts as this cannot be entirely true. As you have been doing several things well on many occasions.

Now your task here is to get specific about a certain situation where you have won and it completely defies the thought.

Give concrete examples of your previous win to counter any thought.

That win can be against anything, not necessarily against career goals.

Value these positive reminders.

You will find it hard at first to shift the thought and work towards replacement.

But eventually you will train your mind quickly. This will turn into your habit.

A habit which will give you the control of your whole reality.

A powerful tool which will always drag you out of self-sabotaging beliefs.

Strategy #7 Practice Acceptance

Now what if a thought you experience is not exaggeration. If it is just the reflection of reality?

Well, good question!

In that case, where you have legitimate reason for trusting the thought, you have to calm your mind and clear your head through acceptance.

Take out a journal and write “I accept that this is happening with me” . . . “I accept this happened” now list down any actions you can take to improve or rectify the thought.

Seek out anything positive from the disturbing thought which you cannot get your mind off something.

Acceptance technique is the last resort which you can take when cannot take escaping , challenging , and stopping is not an option.

When the thought is not useless.

  Strategy #8 Journaling

This is included as a separate technique for getting your mind off of something because it is transformative.

Journaling is an extremely powerful tool which I have become a fan of especially since life happened. It healed me .

It changed me.

Write down . . . yes get writing . Pour your thoughts not onto something digital but onto the paper. Feel the paper.

I have been through a rough patch where constant thoughts bother me, if you are my email friend then you already know and if you are not then become my friend today because I love you.

That phase taught me powerful journaling technique : Triple G (goal , gratitude, greif).

If you truly want a concrete strategy then I highly suggest you to look into it.

Any ways, back to this post. For now just let your thoughts flow else your time will be wasted.

Yes, the worst thing which I find about overthinking is the amount of time it wastes.

Till now you were allowing the thought to float timelessly in your head thus they were taking advantage.

But from now you will set a timer!

What ? Yesh you have to have a timer for these thoughts. Isn’t it great?

Set a timer for 10 minutes. And let out.

Everything in the journal. Every damn thing which is not getting off your mind.

Express through journaling in this worry time. You will not only get rid of the thought after 10 minute but also reach a creative solution. Your the veins of your hands triggers ideas in your mind. So write.

Seal the thoughts as you close the journal

Literally i cannot sleep before doing this journaling thing. I pour out my thoughts so they do not disturb me when I hit the bed.

And that is what exactly happened. As I close the journal , my thoughts get sealed with it. Try it yourself. [I have a course dedicated to life changing journaling technique]

Strategy #9 Take Mindful Action

After applying every technique mentioned above that can help, do not stop. Yes.

Channel your overthinking which is truly a pointless activity.

How good it would be if you could channel this thought into something productive?

Work towards your goals and priorities. Remember this is not a distraction but a real work.

A mindful action. That focuses on your life purpose.

Bonus:

Strategy #10  Prevention technique

Be mindful of the anchors. In neuro-linguistic programming, which I truly love, we call these anchors the trigger.

It is vital for you to know that which physical state, person or situation triggers your overthinking.

This Awareness will help you for the next time.

Final Thoughts on Decluttering Your Thoughts

Before you gooooo . . .

I know these were so many strategies.

And try them yourself and tell me the usefulness.

These strategies are the tools and think of them as weapons.

Now you can proudly say to yourself that you are well equipped and ready to face the next disturbing thought which will dare to mess around with your head.

Take the tools which you like , see what works best in retraining your mind constructively.

Decluttering is extremely vital not only for work but also health.

And health is wealth! Do not get discouraged in the start.

Your mind finds it hard to adjust to new behavior and Reaction patterns. But once it gets retrained. YOU WILL OVERPOWER YOUR REALITY.

Are you excited to streamline your life and eliminate these mental obstacles?

Which strategy did you like the most? I love to connect with the community.

I would love it if you would take 10 seconds out and comment. A proof you are ready to make a change! I AND Sally are waiting! 

The post How to Get Your Mind off of Something? [Best Way to Shut Your Mind] appeared first on You Decode.