#soulmate aus *are* fun but I also like looking at complications in them

[lavenoon]

Kindled Spirits AU

Soulmate AU revamped with a Y/N <3

Basics: Soulmate bonds are 1) not necessarily romantic, 2) not a given and not always between just 2 people, 3) not necessarily reciprocal (rare, but happens) Basically soulmates are bonded via dreams - meeting within dreams, or dreaming of each other’s memories, anything in dreams is fair game Plays a year after the pizzaplex fire and given that I had the idea a good while ago none of the dlc is included in the premise, also bc this is based on an old self insert fic Y/N is extremely audhd because that I refuse to take out

Y/N has spent most of their life assuming they don’t have a soulmate, which is a relief because they’re plagued by nightmares/ stress dreams a lot. They got used to those, and when some other hazy dreams crop up later in life they don’t think much of it.

Then one night they dream of burning. An indoor playground, they stand in the middle of it, filled with hopelessness and self hatred they cant explain (the irony of Sun burning to death). They don’t feel alone though, and though they can’t see anyone else, they know someone else is there. It's both a comfort as well as agonizing, and the care for that other person is evident, despite the whole emotional cocktail. They go through the entire dream incapable of changing anything, and then wake up still feeling hot but also cold and clammy, phantom flames still licking at their skin. All while they cope with the idea that maybe they did have a soulmate, and that is now past tense.

For an entire year they go around thinking they witnessed their soulmate(s?) burning to death via dream, not telling anyone about it but carrying that guilt.

They move, and find a new job - the Pizzaplex is hiring! No one wants to be a security guard anymore after all that weird shit a year ago, so even though Y/N lacks the qualifications, they get hired. Rotating shifts, day (morning/ afternoon) and night. The first time they walk past the daycare, it flashes into flame - but no, that’s just coincidence. It’s the first indoor playground they’ve seen since then, it’s hazy dream memories worsened by guilt, it’s not the same.

Y/N befriends the daycare attendant, and the naptime attendant - they talk to Sun sometimes through the slide, and Moon usually bothers them on their security rounds. They do meet Sun first, after trying to be helpful throwing down some stray ballpit balls down the slide, and a curious Sun crawls up just to get a ball to the face. Y/N feels very bad about that, and given their lack of scripts for how to interact with animatronics, they just fall back on the scripts they already have. Sun doesn't seem to mind, so it's all good! Then one night they shout a belated "Good night!" down the slide, after the lights in the daycare have turned off, and barely avoid falling when suddenly Moon stands behind them, asking them just what they're doing. He makes his dislike of their flashlight promptly known, and then they have a menace of a shadow for their rounds.

That goes on for a couple weeks, until Sun asks them inside of the daycare to address a few concerns they could please relay to management?

And then the perspective is just undeniable. Y/N gets caught in the flashback, seeing it all burn again, and Sun startles them out of it. They don’t tell him. They can’t. But they realize that he’s been forced to work in a direct replica of the place where he burned to (temporary) death.

After that they keep trying to broach the topic of soulmates in general, but Sun and Moon are very much convinced that as animatronics they are not people, and they can’t dream anyway, so how would they have a soulmate? So silly!

Dreams and personhood are very connected in this AU - with dreams linking souls society just assumes that anyone without dreams is not a person. (Is this a societal issue for other humans who don't dream? Sure! People are people and will exclude others for any reason!)

Meanwhile Y/N starts having more dreams - they assume because now they live closer, actually met their soulmates, there’s less of a barrier to only have the super traumatic stuff make it into their dreams. In fact, they are kind of relieved that their usual nightmares are exchanged for extremely mundane “watching kids play in the daycare” or watching themself being bothered by Moon from his POV.

It’s a struggle trying to convince their soulmates that they are in fact people, while wondering if the bond is reciprocated because how would they tell? Sun and Moon can’t dream, there’s no confirmation that Y/N is their soulmate too! Lots of fear of rejection that’s holding them back here

But also some shenanigans at this time, like Y/N knowing that Moon follows them on their routes, and calling him out on it when he tries to stay hidden. He asks how they knew, and they bluntly reply “it came to me in a dream”. Moon laughs, then asks for the truth that they don’t know how to give after he rejects it so easily. They end up deflecting and he goes back to being a menace.

Also Y/N being somewhat anxious once they realize that Sun uses "friend" for many people (whenever they do see him interact with adults, which isn't often) and awkwardly ask for confirmation because oh no what if he's just being polite and they read too much into it? They almost regret it when he proves that Moon isn't the only menace and makes sure they know he considers them their friend after! Moon continues being a cat in his affections, so when Y/N asks him the same he ends up positively surprised, somewhat guilty (due to the secrets he keeps, and the danger he still believes he poses), but mostly ramps up the friendly annoying to the max

And then Y/N ends up impulsively telling Moon. He wants them to be joking - asks them to, even, to take it all back. When they refuse he reacts more in anger and accuses them of deluding themself, suggesting they need medical attention. They get angry then, too, because is he really telling them to go to a doctor after they confess something like this? It ends badly, with Y/N fleeing the scene and then avoiding both Moon and Sun for a good while.

Until Sun requests their presence about a “security issue” in the closed daycare, and Y/N goes even knowing he’ll want to talk. He’s concerned more than angry, but disbelieving all the same. Y/N’s patience is running thin when Sun, desperately, asks them just what they were dreaming about to be so convinced - what made them think they're linked to an animatronic like that? - so they tell him about the fire. They also tell him that they were telling the truth that one time with Moon. Sun (and Moon) get their own flashback, and Y/N ends up frantic, apologizing for bringing it up like that, while the boys are just terrified that

1) Y/N had to see that, experience it via dream

and 2) just what else could they have seen?

Moon in particular is terrified - he approaches them a bit later, asking about other dreams they might’ve had. Even says “they would have been nightmares”. He assumes that Y/N must have witnessed the virus induced murders and has no idea how to assure them that he’s not that, after he reacted in so much anger at their initial confession. His concern doesn’t really lessen, and more shifts upon being told that “I wouldn’t know, all my dreams are nightmares anyway”.

Mostly themed around growing closer after that, and working around “we don’t need to dream of you to know we like you, and we do!” as well as uncovering the past trauma Sun and Moon have gone through (and are going through, still trapped in the same building in a replica of where they burned).

Also Sun and Moon struggling to accept their personhood because if they’re people, then they are traumatized and were (and are being) mistreated for a long time, and that’s also hard to come to terms with. Some thoughts towards animatronic emancipation though I never got that far in the fic, so mostly comfort and slice of life as they work around the little bump in the road of their soulmate bond. Y/N opening up about their own dreams, and why it's so difficult to say they had any nightmares based on Sun and Moon's experience before the literal death experience not just breaking the ice but rather melting it at record speed

Would remain platonic/ ambiguous because it was very important to me that soulmates aren't necessarily romantic, and they all have bigger fish to fry than whether or not they'd like to go on dates - given that that's hardly an option while Sun and Moon cannot leave the Plex. The reassurance and relationship beyond the bond actually is the most important part, with Y/N admitting to both Sun and Moon and also themself that they enjoy having them as soulmates, of course! But they'd be friends with or without those dreams, given that Y/N initially approached them both before they even realized. Which is also a relief, because Sun and Moon do feel bad over not being able to confirm that it's reciprocated - they feel like it is, they want it to be (and isn't that the most important part?)! But they don't know. And that's okay - because they found each other, dreams or not, and they won't lose that <3

This is as much as I have right now, and as much as it'll stay for the time being! Enjoy <3

[oldwritingm]

can you please do a movie Lloyd X reader soulmate au basically the reader and Lloyd are soulmate in the version of the soulmate au both of them can see how long the other will live but it turns out the both the reader and Lloyd are immortal so they can be together forever the main reason for why the reader is immortal because the reader isn't human she a Oni dragon hybrid trying to live a normal life so she goes to the same school as Lloyd and that how they meet Lloyd of course wants to find out why is soulmate is immortal so the reader tells him that she a Oni dragon hybrid trying to live a normal life both the reader and Lloyd are happy to have found each other because when Lloyd asks the reader how long he'll live the reader says he also immortal this obviously scares him a little but he's happy that he will have his soulmate with him forever (so basically the reader is immortal do to complications that happened when she was born Lloyd is immortal do to him being half human quarter Oni and quarter dragon the reader looks like a Oni with dragon wings and a dragon tail this takes place after the movie)

Yep! Here ya go!

Word count: 1k

Ninjago - Soulmate AU with Oni Lloyd

Everybody had a soulmate; someone you’re meant to be with, for better or for worse. To help find your soulmate, the gods blessed each being with a gift on their wrist. Just below the palm, there was a number inscribed in black like a tattoo. The number was the lifespan of your soulmate. They were supposed to die when they reached the age corresponding with that number on your wrist.

For you, trouble arose with that matter. On your wrist, where most had a number, there was nothing. This always baffled you. What did that mean? Did your soulmate already die? Was there some kind of mistake? Did you not have a soulmate?

You often asked yourself such questions, as you were doing now, on your way to your first day of high school. You were completely lost in thought, your unseeing eyes locked on your blank right wrist.

You were startled out of your thoughts by the halting screech of the school bus. You winced at the noise, forgetting your questions as a rather strongly worded curse directed at the bus’s brakes reined in your mind.

The school was big. And loud. Then again, it was a high school, so you shouldn’t have expected any less.

Sitting in your first class, you sighed listening to people introducing themselves. It was common for people to ask about the number on your wrist when meeting you for the first time. It was supposed to be a fun little detail to share about yourself, but for you it was always uncomfortable. At times you asked yourself why you couldn’t just be normal in one way. For one, you didn’t have a soulmate marking, and two, you weren’t even human like your peers.

With a dragon tail and a little set of juvenile wings, it was obvious that you were a dragon. What most people couldn’t guess by looking at you, though (and oh boy did they look at you), was that you were part Oni, too. Being immortal and flying were cool, but getting stares and hearing whispers as you walked along were not. No, that was the opposite of cool.

You glanced at the clock. Still seven minutes left until the bell rang. With a sigh, you slouched over your desk, trying to make yourself smaller to avoid being noticed.

“You’re gonna hurt your back if you slouch any more than that,” a friendly voice came from beside you.

Clenching your teeth, you turned to see a boy with long blonde hair and green eyes smiling at you. It wasn’t a teasing or amused smile—no, it was genuine, which caught you off guard. And perhaps even stranger, he didn’t even glance at your wings and tail. You blinked at him.

“I’m Lloyd,” he chirped.

“Y/n,” you replied warily.

“Nice to meet you, Y/n. Say, do you wanna meet up for lunch? You don’t have to, I was just—”

“Yes!” You jumped on the opportunity to sit with someone. One, it would help you blend in, and two, this Lloyd kid seemed… different. It wasn’t just his favorable treatment of you, but there was something about him that told you… no, it couldn’t be. Could it? There was almost something inhuman about him.

His face lit up, and he opened his mouth to say more, but the teacher walked in right at that moment, shouting for the class to quiet down.

Lunch couldn’t come soon enough. You found Lloyd alone at a table, waving enthusiastically when he spotted you. You waved back.

Getting to know him was alright. You were a little cagey about your personal life, but he seemed to be, too. You were grateful that he didn’t ask about the soulmate thing, at least. Or your wings and tail.

“These are so good,” Lloyd gushed, pouring out a small packet of candies onto his palm. “You’ve got to try one.” He extended his hand to you.

The sleeve of his hoodie was pulled up by the motion, exposing his wrist. Your eyes glazed over it before looking at the candies. You did a double take.

“Your wrist,” you pointed out.

Looking embarrassed, Lloyd yanked his hoodie back over it. He tried to play cool. “What about it?”

Realizing that you had flustered him, you pulled up your own sleeve and showed him yours. His relaxed expression dropped like a mask, leaving his face dripping with shock.

Slowly uncovering his wrist again, he looked between yours and his. “You… you don’t have one either?”

“No.”

“I’ve never met anyone else who doesn’t have one,” he chuckled, breaking into a sad smile. His brows furrowed for a second, as if considering something, before he leaned in to whisper: “Sometimes I wonder if it’s because I’m immortal.”

“No! You too?!” You burst, catching several pairs of eyes. You didn’t care. Not this time.

“Wha— you mean to tell me you’re immortal?”

You nodded vigorously. “It’s because I’m part Oni. Part dragon, too.”

“Well, you have one on me, then. I’m only part Oni. I’m just lucky to be able to transform into a more human-looking form.”

Your heart soared. So this charming boy was your soulmate! And you’d both be together forever! You had once worried that if your soulmate did have a lifespan, and there had just been some sort of mistake, they would just die eventually, leaving you alone. But now your worries floated away like dandelion seeds.

You gazed into each other’s eyes with wide smiles, unaware that you were both going through the exact same thought process, shedding your worries together.

“So, uh,” Lloyd glanced back at his palm. “You wanna try one of these candies?”

Perking up, you giggled awkwardly, going a little dark in the cheeks. You had forgotten his earlier offer.

“Yeah, I’m sure they’re great.” You popped one in your mouth, and your eyes immediately went wide. “Oh my goodness.”

“Right?!”

“Give me more.”

Lloyd laughed as you speedily transferred several more of the candies to your own hand. “I think we’re gonna get along just fine, Y/n.”

Thanks for reading, and thank you anon for your request! Take care lovelies x

[hanibalistic]

CELESTIAL STRINGS | HAN JISUNG.

genre | fluff, angst, romance, friendship / soulmate au, magic au 

synopsis | having been alone most of your life, the last thing you thought would gain you a few friends and a home was helping a random boy get past the school gate after he was late.

word count | 26.8k+

warning | violence, mentions of blood and injuries / mentions of death and killing ​

note | limiting 1000 blocks per post is the single stupidest thing tumblr pt.3 / bye bye baby.

parts | one, two, three

Seungmin could feel your presence around the school again. He wondered why you hid.

Turning over to look at his friends, his expression remained neutral and unbothered as he watched Jisung point at something on his phone and make Felix laugh. He breathed a mildly annoyed sigh, unable to verbalize the fault he had placed on Jisung since the moment it was revealed what had happened between you both after everyone split up to find the cat café.

It was because Seungmin knew it was not entirely Jisung’s fault that nobody had heard from you for weeks. Both of you have made grave mistakes in the recent fight, which was much more severe than anything any of you have ever picked with each other. Both of you have said things you shouldn’t have, using the vulnerable knowledge of each other as something as abysmal as snowballs on a fun winter day.

But he has not heard from you for weeks. Nobody has heard from you for weeks. Jisung had frantically reached out to you the night of the fight when he realized there wouldn’t be a time when you could finally come home. He could wait until the sun rose, and there would be no traces of you, so he texted and called you countless times. 

Jisung had assumed the worst when he decided to call Seungmin. You were not the type to ignore his calls and messages; even though the tension might still be up, Jisung thought he would have some of your grace, in which you would at least tell him you were safe. But there was only radio silence, and he assumed the worst: you had been taken by the man he saw that day. 

Except you were the type to ignore his calls and messages because you were the type to distance yourself as soon as complications arose. Seungmin hated thinking about it this way, but your record tracks: you ran away from your city, you ran away during the car crash, and you had run away this time after experiencing Jisung’s temporary hatred toward you. 

Seungmin only tried to text you a few times. He assumed you would not pick up his calls if you didn’t reply to his messages. The results were the same: complete and utter silence. 

Yet, lo and behold, you were here with them. Hidden behind walls, or among trees, or cloaked with invisibility. Seungmin wondered if Jisung noticed, but it didn’t seem like anyone but he did. 

“I think you guys should go ahead first. I forgot something in my locker,” Seungmin said once he looked away from the other end of the street where you usually came from.

“Huh? Why? We can wait here for you. It won’t take you that long,” Hyunjin said, raising a brow at him.

Seungmin shrugged. “I figured I could find my homeroom teacher on the way to discuss my grade.”

Jisung put his phone down at the peculiar explanation. It may be within his character to forget a homework assignment in his locker, but Seungmin wasn't someone who lacked time management. If he needed to find a teacher to talk to, he would have done it during school hours instead of waiting until the last minute.

“Are you waiting for someone?” Jisung asked, his connotation failing to be discreet. 

Hyunjin and Felix turned to Seungmin then, looking more surprised than suspicious. They have each reached out to you individually despite knowing the very little chance of getting a response, which they have yet to get. But regarding your whereabouts, those two also have their fair share of concerns.

Felix did not fault anyone for what happened. If anything, he didn’t think he should have a say since he was neither closely related to you and Jisung’s relationship nor well-versed in what happened to you in the past. Maybe Jisung had the right to be upset about not being able to help you with something with unpredictable danger. Perhaps you were also right in taking the extra step to protect his defenseless self. 

One thing that was definitely right, though, which he and Hyunjin both agreed on when chatting during an after-school walk, was that better communication should have happened. Regardless of the agitated emotions and who was right and wrong, Jisung should have clarified for the pessimistic you, and you should not have assumed the worst knowing Jisung’s loving nature. 

And you had been gone for weeks. Felix has been without a reliable friend, and Hyunjin has been without a pseudo-sibling. Seungmin has been without his best friend, and Jisung without his soulmate. 

Everyone would want to know if you were here, as Jisung assumed. 

“I’m not waiting for anyone,” Seungmin said. “I really just need to talk about my grade.” 

“Seungmin, your grades are fine,” Jisung huffed in faint annoyance.

Jisung hadn’t been able to study well, nor had he been able to study at all. His bedroom had long lost its comfort. It was just a cell of memories with you, trapping him in and torturing him every single night. He still hasn’t rolled up the mattress on the floor and refused to wash the shirts you’ve worn before.

Hurting you was so easy for him that day. He just had to speak and walk away. He should have turned around. He should have emphasized that he still loved you and was only angry for now. He was negligent of your habits with human complications and made a mistake that cost him every ounce of peace.

“Okay,” Seungmin replied. “I still have to head back to get my stuff from the locker.”

“Then go,” Jisung said. “We’ll wait for you here.”

Jisung’s irritability has been putting a strain on everyone’s mood, and there is only so much one can handle before the awful truth comes out and kills everyone. But Seungmin has someone else he has to worry about; he looked to the side slightly as if to give you a signal to follow him if you were even here in the first place, and then he exhaled in annoyance. 

“Fine,” Seungmin muttered. “I won’t be long.” 

He went through the school building and headed to the backyard, where they usually had lunch. Standing by the familiar spot, his eyes squinted in concentration. He couldn’t even be sure if you were at the front gate or if you followed him to the back, but he felt obligated to try it. As your best friend, he had to see if you would receive his support.

Besides, he hated the idea of leaving that petty map argument unresolved. He hasn’t apologized to you yet, nor have you to him. 

“[Name]?” he called softly, standing on his spot and looking around, feeling like an absolute idiot. “You can come out if you’re here. It’s just me.”

A ghostly breeze brushed past his face, blowing at his bangs to caress his eyes. Seungmin closed his eyes at the wind. His lips pursed into a gentle frown. Footsteps slowed down before him as his temporary blindness faded, and he found himself looking at you with your hands clasped before your chest. You smiled faintly at him, eyes filled with recognition of your friend’s face. 

Seungmin softened, as did you. You looked the same, understandably. It has only been a couple of weeks since he last saw you, but you appeared exhausted. And you found him stoic and angry, which he usually was if he made no attempt to put expressions on his face. But as he looked at you now, he was a gentle boy. 

His hand paused mid-air when he was about to brush at a piece of your hair away from your face, his movement stuttering before he clenched his fist and let it drop back to his side. You looked down at his hand and back up at his face, your eyes widening slightly at the unusual gesture. 

Seungmin opened his mouth, wanting to speak but unable to because his mind was blanking out. Eventually, he found it in himself to speak. “I’m sorry about what I said that day. About your magic being unconventional.”

You shook out a breath, finding the willpower in yourself to breathe normally after so long. Every day felt like a knot in your chest, sucking in your oxygen and craving for your impending end. You missed the daily life you used to have, having a place to go home to, your friends, and being with Jisung.

The first thing you gave him was a huff of amusement. Then you jumped in your steps, moving forward and engulfing him in a surprising hug. Seungmin grew into a smile of his own, accepting the hug graciously, knowing how hard it was to overcome the distaste for human touch. He was the same way with people, but since he had not seen you in a while, he supposed he could make an exception. 

“How have you been, Seungmin?” you asked, the evidence of joy clear in your straining voice.

“Annoyed that you ghosted all of us,” he replied jokingly. “If you want to ghost Jisung, fine. But I am not part of the argument you guys had. I do not deserve to be ignored. Neither do Hyunjin and Felix.”

You pulled a remorseful face as you pulled away from the short embrace. You did feel bad about disregarding all of their questions and constant check-ups. You went as far as not to tap into the notifications so they do not know whether you even read their messages; you did it once on purpose for Felix, and you figured he might have thought it a technical mistake, so he never told anyone. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I needed some time alone.” 

You had engulfed yourself with a simple furrow of your brows. Throwing guilt at you was the last thing Seungmin wanted to do, but he figured it wasn’t his choice whether you would shoulder everything by yourself or not. You were doing it in front of him, your thought process adding tons of stress atop what you were already experiencing when he accused you of leaving no traces behind.

His heart ached to see you like this. The witty and independent friend he adored back then was swapped with someone needing comfort and understanding. That friend was tired of causing roadblocks to people's smooth sailing lives. 

“Yeah,” Seungmin nodded, “did you have enough of it? I hate to say this, but we’re all tired of Jisung throwing temper tantrums because you’re not with him.”

Your lips arched downward into a nostalgic smile. “How is he doing?” 

“Very bold of you to ask, actually!” Seungmin replied with a rare exclamation. 

It took you one look to know that he was being sarcastic. You groaned at the knowing expression on his face that seemed to be putting you at fault for every terrible attitude Jisung had given him the past weeks because you wanted to play as a missing person. The worst was that he had the right to blame you for his share of the consequences that had nothing to do with him. You have exaggerated the problem a bit. 

“Seungmin,” you muttered with a downward arch of your lips, urging him to tell you the truth.

“He’s sorry and wants you to come home,” he replied.

You sighed deeply and squeezed your eyes shut as if Jisung’s yearning for you caused complications to your returned daily routine. Your back arched and bent like an exhausted mother would, and then you pursed your lips to clear the drying tongue in your mouth that had something to say. 

“He is right, you know?” you said. “I just do whatever I want.”

Seungmin grimaced. “We don’t have free will.”

“Oh, wow. I almost forgot how much I hated talking to you.” You widened your eyes in pretend shock. “What nihilistic bible did you get that from?

“I’m saying there is a reason for everything you do, and the reason doesn’t have to be your fault,” Seungmin clarified assertively. He wanted to make sure you understand your actions were not (entirely) a reflection of your morals despite their consequences.

Then he cleared his throat and grimaced. “And, uh, it’s actually just behavioral psychology. Not that you’d know anything about that.”

You stared at him in silence. Seungmin responded by being your mirror image because he wasn’t sure what you were thinking. You were not thinking of much aside from the want to be playful with a friend, which you have not done in a while. Therefore, still maintaining the silence and the same deadpan gaze, you reached behind your bag and unzipped the front pocket. 

Seungmin realized you were taking your magic strings out. He debated making a distasteful joke about you using magic on regular people. He did not make the joke. 

“Come here,” you said with a funny beckon of your head. Your hands were busy wrapping red strings around your fingers. “I just wanna talk, Seungmin.”

He began to take stuttering steps back while you advanced toward him. He held his hands in mock surrender, and airy chuckles parted between words. “It’s cool. We can talk from a distance. What did I even say? What did I even say–hey! Don’t chant anything! Stop it!”

You widened your eyes with a grin when Seungmin suddenly dove toward you, hoping to snatch the red strings from your hands. You swiftly hopped away from him, making him jolt forward when you were nowhere to be grasped as he had expected.

Seungmin grunted slightly as he pulled himself together, only to immediately dash from his standing spot when he realized there was ample time for you to begin chasing him in circles again. 

Your missed laughter rang in his ears, making him lose track of time. He missed his best friend dearly. 

Before he knew it, he had run himself out of the allotted duration reasonable for retrieving something from his locker. He snapped out of it once he remembered his friends were still waiting for him outside the school gate, and he waved at you to pause the friendly chase. He panted once you stopped with a tilt of your head and waved his hand again in dismissal. 

“I have to go back,” Seungmin said. “They’re waiting for me outside, which you already know.”

Your heart dropped, but acceptance was quick to catch it. Fiddling with your fingers, you did not bother to unwrap the red strings around your fingers as you watched Seungmin gather himself and stand up straight.

You flashed him a brief smile that conveyed a sorrowful farewell he wished he could change. He was going to talk you into coming back, into meeting everyone outside the school gate, but the reassurance you needed could not come from him.

It can only come from the person you were avoiding, which was the tricky part because you refused to meet Jisung and wouldn’t believe his reassurance. 

Supposed he would just have to wait. 

“Text me anyway,” Seungmin requested softly. “And maybe Hyunjin and Felix, too.”

You sighed. There was no harm in that. “Okay.” 

He went in for a hug this time, which you gladly accepted. This was a goodbye with a footnote craving out the date of a future meeting. 

“Do you have a place to stay?” he asked during the embrace. “You can stay with me.”

“I’m okay, Seungmin,” you replied with a pat on his back, your eyes shutting into a peaceful smile. “I’ll text you after work.”

Your relieved smile was a sure sight, a tender view, for Jisung, who stood on the open porch that connected the school building to the backyard. Crescent eyes and crescent lips broke his heart into pieces he could not rearrange to fit by himself. You would rather meet secretly with Seungmin than return to him after every apologetic missed call and unread text because he hurt you. He hurt you. You hurt them, Jisung reminded himself. 

Tears welled up when you opened your eyes and saw Jisung. Yours were frightened and embarrassed; his were pained and panicked. Seungmin grew confused when you flinched away, but he quickly caught up with the situation once he turned around and found all three of his friends standing by the porch. He cursed under his breath; he ran out of reasonable time to look for something in his locker. 

Jisung hardened his gaze when he looked past Seungmin to find you scrambling with the red string on your hands. He could recall everything you said about your magic and every sight he has seen of you doing it. Red strings were for strong-type magic, like enhanced abilities. But technically, you could use any color strings for anything with the consequence of greater discomfort, like what happened the other day with the car crash. If there were one thing you would do now, it would be to run away. 

You were running away. You were leaving him. 

“Wait! [Name], please!” 

Jisung leaped forward with his arm outstretched as if he could reach you from such a great distance. But you were gone in a second, not even sparing him another glance before the magic took you away. All that was left for him was the weight of his school bag hanging on his shoulders, the accidental scrape of his shoe against the edge of the porch steps, and a painful faceplant against the filthy ground. 

Felix gasped in shock. Hyunjin stared with sympathy at Jisung’s fallen body. Both of them were halted to an uncertain pause when Jisung’s fists curled against the ground. 

Tremors passed through Jisung’s body because the fall was painful. His nose felt broken; it was not. His forehead felt to have grown a bump; it did not. His knees and the heels of his palms were scraped with dirt and blood—that was correct. In an attempt to brace himself, he had reached his arms out before he fell, causing his skin to screech past the ground violently. And his uniform pants would never save his knees from any fall. 

It was painful. Everything was painful. He could only wish that his body remembered these injuries and his heart forgot the cause because the heart was where it hurt the most. 

Jisung missed you. There has not been a single empty moment without you infiltrating his head, taunting him of his misery and his desperate yearning for you. Jisung wanted you back. He wanted you back with him, sleeping, eating, laughing, and talking. It was all he wanted. 

He missed you, and he stopped being angry at you, and he was worried about you, and he was in love with you. He was so in love with you that it all turned into frustration, disappointment, and an impossible dream to return to wrestle himself for what he forgot to say. I’m angry at you right now, but I still love you. I still love you. I always will. Why didn’t he turn around? Why did he stomp away? He could have salvaged this!

Oh, but who was he to have such wants? He was but a boy who uttered the most hurtful things to you. He was just a boy who kicked you while you were down on your knees, and you were never going to get back up again anyway!

He was a boy who, for even a repulsive moment, acted on his capability to tear you to shreds, talking about you escaping your home, talking about you leaving your one family member behind, blaming you for everything. There was no reason for you to return to him after what he said to you. He didn’t deserve it. 

“I’m sorry–“ Jisung drilled his forehead against the ground because he couldn’t find a better way to make himself feel. Repulsed, pursed groans left his trembling lips as he dragged his skin along the dirt. He wanted to feel pain. He wanted to bleed. He wanted to feel beaten. He wanted his body to remember in return for his heart to forget. But the tears wouldn’t stop falling, and his ears wouldn’t stop ringing. “I’m sorry.”

Broken murmurs of apologies trickled out his lips like ants piled into a line. Felix wiped his eyes with the hem of his sweater as he stumbled toward Jisung. The freckled boy knelt beside Jisung with soft hands tracing across Jisung’s body. Felix attempted to slowly pick Jisung back up on his feet, ignoring the soured tip of his nose and the tearful redness at the corner of his eyes. 

“Come on, Jisung,” Felix pleaded. He placed his hand under Jisung’s forehead to shield his vulnerable skin. “It’s okay. Let’s get up, Jisung. Please?”

Hyunjin stood frozen on his spot. He has never seen Jisung in such a wretched state. He has never seen Jisung weep like a child before. He did not know what to think of it. He did not know what to make of all of this. Was it all so bad that it had to come down to this? You did something wrong, too, did you not? But he could never put himself in your shoes to understand your trauma, so he has no say in how you should react to someone who dared to pinch your sore point. 

But was all of this necessary? Avoiding each other, going radio silent, bloodying our hands, screaming unheard apologies into the air—was it all necessary?  

“Help me, you guys!” Felix whispered desperately.

Hyunjin peered down at Felix before he eyed Seungmin. His brows furrowed. Seungmin noticed the faraway stare and looked up to maintain eye contact with Hyunjin. There was a short conversation of blame, questions, and demand. Seungmin should reach out to you, Hyunjin thought, but he was only told that there was no easy way to bypass interpersonal conflict. Seungmin refused to trick you into meeting a boy you were afraid of confronting, so he wouldn’t. 

Stepping forward, Hyunjin crouched beside Jisung and helped Felix pull him up. Hyunjin sighed heavily when Jisung’s puffy red eyes met with his. He reached a hand up to delicately brush off the dirt on Jisung’s forehead, soothing over the bruised spot to earn a hiccuped flinch in response. 

“Hyunjin, I miss them–“ Jisung cried and hiccupped. “I miss [Name].” 

“It’s getting late,” Hyunjin could only say. He was sorry he could not do more. “We should go home.” 

Seungmin fiddled with his fingers when he saw the bloodied heel of Jisung’s palms. When the other two got Jisung to stand up and checked under his pants, Seungmin saw that Jisung’s knees were also doing less than gracefully.

He felt guilty for some reason. Perhaps someone in his position should be able to do more than wait and stay silent. Maybe this could have been resolved if he had pushed you more. Sometimes, overlooking a timid smile may be the solution. 

“We should–“ Seungmin cleared his throat. “We should go to the convenience store.”

“The one [Name] works at.”

“Jisung, I know you’re excited, but please stop shoving me.”

Jisung flashed an apologetic smile at a frowning Felix. Carefully pushing himself off Felix's back, he kept a hand on Felix's shoulder to steady his pained knees before poking his head between Felix and Hyunjin's arms to watch Seungmin enter the convenience store. Hyunjin nudged at Jisung's cheek in annoyance. However, he made space for the enthusiastic boy by stepping to the side just enough to still be covered by the pedestrian bush. 

Seungmin held back a hefty sigh when he approached the automatic doors. But between going inside and telling you his purpose of being here at this hour and turning back to watch Jisung's eyes fall flat for what would probably be the rest of his life, he chose this.

He decided to give you the unasked push everyone in the know needed. He chose to be the hand that brings the glue closer to the one missing piece. 

The automatic doors slid open with the usual welcoming chime. He looked to the left to find the register counter vacant, so he turned and checked for the aisles.

As expected, you were sitting at the window table having a dinner break, but he could tell you were watching for whoever walked in the store just in case you had to ring a customer up. When you saw that it was just Seungmin, though, you relaxed. 

“Hey!” you called with a wave. “What are you doing here?”

“Jisung is outside.” Seungmin wasted no time. 

You were chewing the remaining food in your mouth, and your slow but steady movements showed the reluctance you didn't have with words. Your gaze followed suit with unease and distrust, the chopsticks in your hand falling. 

It wasn't that you hated Jisung. You could never. All of this happened because your devotion to him was blind and faithful. It was the unknown that haunted you. Jisung's repulsed gaze reflected in the mirror every time you looked at yourself.

Have they remained in his eyes until now? His violating words mirrored your judgment about yourself. Did he still think of you that way now? He hurt you because you hurt him first. You hurt him first. This was your fault. 

You couldn’t take the risk of spiraling. You had to avoid him at all costs. You needed to walk away from the chance of making another mistake, even if it meant bidding a silent farewell to him forever. 

“I’m so sorry,” Seungmin added. “But he’s hurt. He’s really hurt. He’s bleeding.” 

Your brows furrowed sorrowfully, and you perked up from your seat. Your eyes darted out the window to look for any signs of people, but you saw none. Barely anyone walks by this area at this time of night. “What happened?” 

Seungmin breathed a sigh of relief at your concern. He had been rigidly afraid of having to resort to violence, which just meant he would kick you off the chair and drag you outside by the ear.

Jabbing a thumb behind his shoulder, he recounted what happened briefly. "Jisung tripped and fell on the ground when you teleported away. He stayed on the floor crying. He was hitting himself and everything."

What you felt reached beyond mere guilt. From the sound of it, he must have been crying. Huffing out a shivering breath, you allowed the pain in your abdomen to dissolve into acid and spread through your limbs. It was painful. Your feelings were painful. Everything was painful. 

“Why do I keep doing this? Why do I keep hurting him?” you whispered, tongue filled with violent accusations. “What the fuck is wrong with me?”

“Hey, nothing is wrong with you,” Seungmin urged after he quickly approached you. “Nothing is wrong with you. What happened was a gross case of miscommunication. You two suffered the consequences. It’s all done. Jisung is out there right now. He needs to be healed, and he wanted to see you, so please–“

He picked you up by your arm and shook your shoulders. He faked the motion of slapping your face twice before he huffed with determination. “Pull yourself together!”

You stared at him, wide-eyed and in disbelief. But, after a moment, you nodded and told him to bring Jisung inside. Meanwhile, you headed to the back room to get your handy pack of strings.

There wasn't much left, which wasn't an issue for a small healing job. But you would need to have it refilled eventually. You usually did it by sneaking back to the city, but now that you've talked it out with Minho, perhaps you could arrange a delivery instead. 

You pushed the door open with your shoulder while untangling the green string. An exhale brushed past your lips in exhaustion once you looked up and saw Jisung standing by the counter table. His palms were faced skyward, reddened with ground debris and blood scratches. His pants were rolled above his knees to air out his wounded knees. His eyes were puffy and teary as he stared at you, unsure if it was from the physical pain or seeing you.

“You’re so clumsy,” you muttered when you were near.

“I’m sorry,” he replied softly, his eyes shakily following your face. 

You didn't say anything. Jisung trailed behind you and followed you to a seat. You took his hand in yours and did what you were most familiar with—using magic. He watched as your palm hovered over his, and his hand remained rigid in your other hand despite how gently you held him. He swallowed a gulp of saliva down his throat, realizing how empty he had felt in the past weeks once you touched him again.

The unfulfillment had been so stagnant in getting him used to not having you around that he almost forgot about it. He was, with uncertainty, grateful to be reminded of it. 

There were crickets of stinging pain when the soil and debris got sucked out of his flesh, and he recalled you telling him that healing magic was a reversal process rather than a magical process. The feelings of his skin closing together felt weirder with that knowledge in mind. You did the same thing to his other hand and scraped his knees in complete silence. As it happened, there was no single word or eye contact between you. 

There was evident awkwardness in the air, but the tension was so wobbly and breakable it could cut neither of you. Since the last argument and the consequences of it, the atmosphere that would mold when you and Jisung were near each other grew softer, soft with fear and caution to keep history from repeating. 

You looked up after his knees were healed up. Your eyes brushed past his above; just between the gaps of his hair, you noticed a faint redness.

Dismay grumbling out your lips, you reached up to hold his bangs out of his forehead. Jisung winced when your hand came in contact with the small cut he made when he was dragging his head against the backyard floor, but he didn't mind you touching his head. 

“Did you fall face-first on the floor?” you asked as you hovered your stringed hand over the bruised cut.

Jisung nodded. “You can say that.” 

You huffed in annoyance not directed toward him, and he looked away from your face in the self-induced reflection. He should not have dragged his forehead through the mud. He didn’t think you would be so upset over it.

The lingering background pain faded before you leaned back into yourself on your seat. In a matter of a minute, his body was back to normal. If he weren’t in such a sorry state, he would verbally suggest going on a fearless rampage with this kind of immediate healthcare coverage. He could do almost anything!

“This is not an invitation for you to go jumping around,” you said pointedly when you saw the thoughtful spacing in his eyes.

Jisung perked up slowly, returning to the present. “I wasn’t even thinking about that.” He laughed a little and shook his head in denial. When he saw your prolonged glance, he shuddered timidly and shrugged. “I’ve never touched dry ice before.”

His mother had some groceries delivered to the apartment the other day, and they came with a pack of dry ice to preserve some of the food that came in the box. The icy air surrounding it felt refreshing to Jisung; he only wanted to touch it. He was repeatedly advised against it, making him want to do it more. 

“Oh jeez–please don’t do that,” you groaned.

“What the–you and Seungmin are so annoying! It’s not like I’ll die from it!” he slurred out animatedly. 

“I’m sure it’s not just me and Seungmin.” You rolled your eyes.

“Well, yeah? Of course, my mom would tell me no. That is when you guys come in and encourage me to try it out! Parents say no; friends say yes!” he spilled confidently. “Hyunjin was in on it! He’s the true ride-or-die, I guess.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and leaned your body to the side. You looked out the convenience store doors.

Felix perked up when he saw you looking by the wall. He clapped his hands with a bright smile, waved, and looked to the side to pull Hyunjin out from hiding. Hyunjin stumbled with a curse, but he let Felix hold on to his wrist in excitement from seeing you again.

Looking up from the floor, Hyunjin searched for your eyes. He pulled a face at the deadpan glare you sent him from miles away; he knew there was a reason for it. He just wasn’t sure what Jisung told you. 

“The first thing he does is talk shit about us to [Name],” Hyunjin muttered.

Felix giggled, clearly not a care in the world now that his friends were making up with each other. Seungmin rolled his eyes with a scoff and made sure his comment about how Jisung was only talking about Hyunjin was loud enough to be heard.

The two got into a minor hissy fit, where Seungmin remained still, and Hyunjin looked more exhausted than ever. You could see the grimaces on Hyunjin's face from inside the store.

“Those two are at it again,” you muttered to Jisung.

“They always are,” he said mindlessly, playing with your fingers. “Did I tell you about what happened the other day at the library? It was so stupid. Hyunjin was–"

“Ow! Hey!” 

Jisung looked up innocently when you winced after he pulled a hangnail off your index finger. A small apology threw up from his stomach when you glared at him. He smoothed over the sore spot with the tip of his finger, rubbing the redness gently and slowly erupting into laughter upon your persistent grumpy expression. 

You didn't pull away from him. He thought that meant something. Forgiveness, perhaps. Forgiveness that was given without an actual apology; forgiveness reserved only for those who are the dearest to us; forgiveness that was strong enough to shape the air around you, making everything mellow and soft again. And you two would not hurt each other again. You two would never hurt each other again. 

"We all missed you a lot," he said as he released your hand. "I missed you a lot." 

“Enough to trip and fall?” You smirked in amusement.

Jisung sighed with a quirk on his lips, embarrassed. “Yeah.” 

It took one final stare—this time, you could see longing eating away at your irises—before you two broke down. Silent tears fell down Jisung's cheeks as he reached for a hug. You returned the embrace with equal devotion in your strength, both of you doing your best to crush each other's bones and physically submerge yourselves into each other. Anything separating your bodies was a nuisance; your clothes, flesh, skin, everything. 

“I love you,” he mumbled. “Let’s never do that again.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “I love you too.”

You two would not hurt each other again. You two would never hurt each other again. 

Felix hopped on his spot when you showed up at the glass doors. He squealed in celebration and left Hyunjin’s side to jog over to where you were. Jisung pursed his lips into a smile when Felix almost tackled you to the ground with a hug. His eyes trailed from his excited friend to behind his shoulders, where Hyunjin and Seungmin were approaching. When Jisung caught Seungmin’s eyes, Seungmin breathed a relieved sigh that reflected how Jisung himself felt about the ending of this stoic period.

There was a newfound perspective that Jisung was too absorbed in his sorrow to see before. The way Seungmin looked like the weight of responsibility got lifted off his shoulders, how Felix immediately trapped you in a tight embrace, and the fond smirk seeping onto Hyunjin’s face—the hostile tension impacted everyone, and everyone was glad to see you again. 

It was no news that you have blended into becoming an inseparable component of this friend group. But, with the tightly bound relationship you and Jisung share, it would slip his mind sometimes how much you were sewn into his friends' lives, to a point where the lack of your presence had caused a strain in their routine.

The affectionate stake to Hyunjin's ego, the partnered softness in Felix's life, and the permanence in Seungmin's loyalty. This was never just about Jisung. This was about everybody, friends who would lie and die for each other. 

Jisung smiled at Seungmin when he was near the quiet boy standing a few feet away from the commotion by the convenience store doors. There wasn’t anything they had to say to each other. The purposeful brush on the back of their hands conveyed gratitude. 

“What did Jisung say about me?” Hyunjin asked, standing tall before you. 

There was a ringing in your ear, but you ignored it. You eyed him with a playful glare. “Did you actually agree to touch dry ice with Jisung?”

He giggled and opened his arms to hug you. You accepted it begrudgingly. When his head lowered enough to your ears, he replied, “I was never going to let him do it. I gotta take care of him when you’re not here, you know?” 

That was how it was, you supposed. Initially, you thought Seungmin would be the one to look after everyone, but being the decision-maker of the group did not come with the kind of life skills that Hyunjin grew up being taught by his family. Felix lived in wealth, Jisung’s parents did everything for him, and Seungmin could negate most responsibilities in return for academic success. Hyunjin juggled every homely activity to support his parents’ lack of presence at home. 

From cooking to cleaning, fixing clothes to perfectly putting on a mattress cover, making a doctor’s appointment to negotiating grocery prices—Hyunjin has always been the person to go to. You appreciated his help whenever you, surprisingly, needed it. 

You hummed, attempting to relish in Hyunjin’s lanky figure, but the ringing in your ears bothered you. There was nothing in the atmosphere.

The ringing came from a sense of sudden dread, a downcast of paranoia. Something was coming. Something was coming directly at you. You raised your hand, the green strings you felt glad you hadn’t taken off yet, and you discreetly muttered a chant under your breath just as the convenience store collapsed onto you and Hyunjin. 

A hammering in Felix's ears came from witnessing a natural hazard. The dust drowned his eyes, but he found looking away from the fallen building impossible. He shook his head and attempted to steady his heavy breathing. No, this wasn't a natural hazard. He did not feel anything.

The ground did not shake under his feet, the ocean did not cover the city, and the wind did not pick up across the map. The convenience store collapsed onto his friends because something he couldn't clearly pick out crashed into it.

Seungmin grabbed Felix's hand and pulled the stunted boy to his side. His other hand restricted Jisung's haphazard and impulsive movement.

The tightness of his hands wrapped around his friends helped cease the tremors traveling across his arms. However, the clear suspicion of what could have caused such a commotion struck a permanent fear in Seungmin's chest. It would be best to wait it out. It would be best to trust you and wait it out in case someone none of them can deal with comes into the picture. 

The green string was generous with your usage of it. With shaking arms, you shoved off the rubbles on your body and cleared a space to sit up. You could feel Hyunjin under your knees. Before you even looked for your other friends, you gazed downward to find him lying beneath you. 

Anything below his waist should be fine. You suspected that since most of your damage was done unto your arms, torso, and head.

That would make sense. The building collapsed on you mid-chant, meaning the protection spell you were casting was done halfway from the ground up, protecting your legs and lower body. Hyunjin seemed to have gotten the short end of the stick with the heavy rubbles as blood trickled down the side of his face from an invisible spot on his head.

The back of his palms was bruised with red; you swore you could feel them near your head when it all went down.

You called his name, and he responded with silence. “It’s okay,” you said to yourself as you hastily pushed off the cement blocks covering his body so you could pull him out from under the weight.

Preoccupied, you did not notice the floating figure descending from skyward. When he called out your name, you finally looked up, and you froze at the recognizable face—the councilman who took charge of you after your family’s murder. There was no concrete evidence of his involvement, but from his forceful way of care and blatant distaste for you, it was evident to you, even as a child, that he was part of the plan to take your family down. 

Jisung watched with praying eyes as you scrambled to pull Hyunjin’s unconscious body toward your chest as if protecting him. He followed Felix and Seungmin’s gaze toward the councilman, who finally reached the ground with his feet and mumbled, “Who is that?”

“Nobody good,” Seungmin replied. 

The councilman observed the destruction he caused with disinterest. His mind was focused on accessing the group of children he saw—one he wanted and the other four disposables. A sparkle in the air caught his keen and experienced eyes, which he soon realized was the red string of fate. It tied between you and the scrawny-looking boy wearing a dirtied school uniform. He clicked his tongue; he disliked unkempt clothing, but what mattered now was the string and its meaning. So it was one child he wanted, one child he could exploit, and the remaining three (or two) were disposable. 

"What are you doing here?" you asked aloud to gain the elder's attention. When he shot a sharp glance at you, your glare deafened into a flinch, and you unconsciously cradled Hyunjin closer to you. You were still afraid of him. No matter how many years have passed, you would always be more afraid of him than you could hate him, and you hated him intensely. 

“Pointless question, [Name],” he replied calmly. “What other purpose would I have other than to bring you back to the city.”

Felix could piece two and two together much more quickly this time. The severity of the situation and the fearful adrenaline burning in his chest could have forced his brain to react so quickly. The second he heard the councilman speak of taking you away to where you escaped from, he knew he could not listen to a single word that man had to say. He shouldn’t already, considering what happened to you and Hyunjin—a whole building? Was that necessary?

Snatching his hand away from Seungmin, Felix bolted toward you and knelt beside you. He crossed his arm through yours, holding you tightly, and glared at the councilman. “They’re not going anywhere with you! Leave us alone!”

Seungmin watched defeatedly when Jisung escaped his grasp to follow Felix's lead. He genuinely could not understand the thought process but supposed he could not be the odd one. Fixing his backpack straps, he scoffed in annoyance and turned to the councilman. 

“You!” he called out impolitely. “Has it not been years? There is no point in bringing them back to the city now because having them there serves no real purpose. You should also start letting things go. How long do you really have to enjoy political power at your age?”

“Yeah!” Jisung echoed Seungmin’s sentiment. “You’ll get a heart disease before you die, old man!”

Felix peeked over at Jisung with an increasing frown. He whispered, “People usually do.”

“Confidence precedes logic, Felix. Shut up.”

It stopped being about having political power years ago. He already obtained that when your family was massacred, and your uncle was put in an eternal coma.

Your survival had been an unexpected gift. The plan was always to kill and personally tank public rapport's fall as speculations and rumors rise. But you became a calculative child that comes once in a blue moon, a lie in the making, a way to replenish their dignity. 

The plan became to kill and have every strand of responsibility fall on you. Pushing you to study and training you to become an elected council member just for you to fail was only part of the ploy. It was the part that they let you on and you ran away from.

The councilman remained stoic; an explanation reached not even the tip of his tongue. He could not say anything to your friends to garner an understanding of his reason for abusing and exploiting you. His prolonged silence was eerie.

It felt like he was planning every route you could take to escape this situation. You pursed your lips—he probably was planning, which would soon pose a threatening issue to you and all of your friends present. The tips of your fingers caressed Hyunjin’s cheek, almost as if to check if he remained warm, and you looked at Seungmin.

“You guys need to leave,” you said. “Take Hyunjin to the hospital.”

“[Name]–“

“Jisung, please,” you pleaded after you turned to him. His lips were pursed into a thin line, and his cheeks jutted into a frown so disagreeable that you wanted to cave in. You would have in any other situation. “I’ll come back. He won’t kill me, he needs me.”

"You're right. I won't kill you." The lightning pace at which you could switch your facial expression was comedic to the councilman, but you didn't think he was smirking because he saw anything worth laughing about. Waving his hand in the air, he cleared his throat. "I will kill them, though." 

The air rumbled gently for a few seconds before the debris around you began to shift around. The rocks and soil came together, weaving about in the air and assembling at one spot to mold into the shape of a human, particularly the councilman’s body shape.

Felix was the first one to be yanked away from your side. Immediately after were Jisung and Seungmin. Standing tall behind them were the stone clones of the councilman—his family magic was the ability to make clones of himself out of any surrounding resources. 

Jisung struggled against the clone’s grip but found himself rendered useless as the grip around his bony arm tightened mercilessly. Felix cluelessly scanned his surroundings, feeling his heart drop closer to the ground as seconds passed without a single passerby to help.

Seungmin remained still, unable to react due to how rash the situation was, saving him from unnecessary pain. His luck lasted no longer than a minute, though, as the second the councilman snapped his fingers, he found himself held at the pointed end of a jagged blade made of stone.

The clone’s arms have transformed to become weapons. How convenient. 

“Leave them alone!” 

You let go of Hyunjin for the first time since he fainted. With the green strings tightening around your forearms, you chanted a spell under your breath to pause the clone’s movements collectively. Then, seconds later, as you shot your arms outward for impact, they all crumbled as if you had their stone limbs removed piece by piece. 

Not wasting a single second, you pushed Felix and Jisung toward Seungmin. Then, you immediately turned to hoist Hyunjin into your arms.

You stood up with great difficulty, never quite realizing how much weight his taller height contributed to him, and you handed him to Seungmin. Reaching into your pocket, you fished out your rolls of remaining strings and sighed at your lack of choices—some purple, a few green, and an abysmal amount of red.

Unwrapping them from the card, you curled them around your palm except for the purple strings, which you used to create a teleportation pattern. 

“Take Hyunjin to the hospital,” you told Seungmin. “Don’t let Jisung go anywhere.” 

He noticed your one-way stare, and he understood it. 

Felix would protest against leaving you despite being in danger himself. He was that kind of boy, that kind of friend. More importantly, he was hard to refuse and hard to upset, which were traits you were not immune to.

Jisung was an even bigger problem for obvious reasons. His protests would be loud and outrageous, without a care for his safety as he charged into danger for your sake, only to almost always make things worse. He could not help you; you would never say that to his face again, but the truth remained, unfortunately, dear to you. In this case, confidence does not precede logic. 

Seungmin, though. He who was your best friend, he who knew your way of thinking more than anyone else, he who was good at accessing situations. You looked to him because you trusted him. You looked to him because you knew he would agree with your plan and because you knew he would let you go.

Even if he hated to, even if he was afraid, he kept Hyunjin’s body close to his side while he tightened his grip around your hand. As the teleportation portal hovered over him, he kept his grip on your hand promising; it screamed for you to come back, come back to me, come back to all of us. He would let go when the portal closes. 

“Jisung is being so loud,” Seungmin laughed. 

You raised your brows. “I know. I’m trying not to look–“ 

You got cut off and pinned against the nearest wall. The impact blown to the back of your head knocked on an uncomfortable sore spot, and a clone wrapped your neck in its hand. Your body writhed at the loss of ground, but you disregarded the pain to look off to the side where the teleportation portal was. Seungmin’s eyes were wide as he looked at you.

His arms circled Hyunjin’s body now, and he looked like he regretted letting you go. You ignored it as you reached your hand out meekly, your fingers curling shut to close it. Once it did, you deactivated the teleportation spell and recharged the strings on your forearm for an offensive attack. You slammed your fist against the clone, and it crumbled to the ground with you following it. 

You caught up with the breaths you lost in those few seconds of being choked. A fleeting sensation of electricity flowed across your arms before the sting became permanent. You have used your strings for more than their intended purposes, and they were starting to fight back by taking from you. But the pain was not so severe yet. You could negate it for a better thought.

Knowing that your friends were at a safer place made you feel immeasurable relief even though you were finally sent back to face the root of your trauma alone. It was always supposed to be this way, you thought. You had support along the way, but the final blow was an act only you could do. 

You were always meant to face the councilman by yourself, so you would. Stumbling to stand up, you raised your head to look at the older man, and your heart dropped.

Why was Jisung still here? 

This was in character of him! How did you not anticipate his rebellion? Of course, he managed to step through the portal before you could close it fully! Why couldn’t he just listen to you? God! Why did he always have to complicate things? All you wanted was his safety, and he flat-out refused that at every turn! 

“He didn’t jump through the portal,” the councilman broke your aggressive chain of thoughts. “I snatched him out of there before it closed. I might have broken your friend’s fingers.”

“You broke Felix’s fingers?” Jisung accused as he struggled against the grip a clone had on him. 

“An inconsequential question.” The councilman waved him off dismissively. He was only focused on you. “I’ve got your soulmate in my hands, so let’s strike a deal, [Name].”

You huffed sardonically, but you listened. Giving him an attitude was merely child’s play, something you needed to do to overshadow the sense of dread present over your body. 

“Come home with us, and I will let him go,” the councilman said. “Your friends will return to their daily lives. They will never hear from us, and you, ever again.”

“That’s not a daily life, asshole,” Jisung spat. “You’re taking my soulmate away from me. How can my life be normal?”

The councilman ignored Jisung, believing the boy was not worth his time. “If you don’t take the deal, we will start with this… thing over here,” the councilman gestured at Jisung. The clone gave his neck a threatening squeeze, causing Jisung to gasp out a fearful breath. “And you know what happens to the rest of your friends.”

Your shoulders slumped. It was a deal. To you, it was even a generous deal that he was willing to let go of loose ends in return for your cooperation.

You eyed Jisung, who looked appalled that you seemed to be considering the councilman’s words. His face further disintegrated into a silent type of madness, with words pushing out the corners of his mouth, but his voice was rendered silent when you began to negotiate with the elder.

“What about my uncle? He’s still in a coma.”

“He will remain so, but we will not kill him.”

“What about me?”

The councilman hummed. “Framed for your family’s murder and sentenced to prison. But, if you come now, I can secretly arrange something more comfortable for you.”

Jisung whipped his head upward to stare at the man in shock. "Who is going to believe that? They were a child at that time!"

"It's not about the truth. It's about what they're willing to be framed for."

The councilman must be out of his mind, not just because the plan may not work in his favor but also because thinking of doing something ridiculous was beyond Jisung’s imagination.

You have spent years as a runaway just for him to waltz into this city and ask if you could take the fall for your family’s death, which wouldn't have made any sense anyway! Who in their right mind would believe that? Was ridiculous crimes like this typical among extremely young magic users, and he simply would never understand it?

But you were considering it. With Jisung’s life on the line, you were considering it. 

You have partially given up on curing your uncle, and it has been years since what happened that you held more hatred than grief toward your family’s tragic demise. You have, more or less, gotten over the past. With the help of this newfound friend group, your legs were able to move you to the present and help you look forward to the future.

If these people die, if your friends die because you weren’t strong enough to save them all, that would be a fresh wound waiting to be nursed inappropriately through avoidance and overexertion. That would be a scar you pick at to keep feeling it to fulfill your unquenchable thirst to suffer for your mistakes.

The councilman was making you a deal. A good deal. 

It was a deal you did not want to take. 

“How do I know you will leave my friends alone?” you asked.

“I don’t wish to have anything to do with children like them,” he replied. “I’m only here for you.”

You couldn’t trust him, but you have to. You have to let yourself believe that he would leave everyone alone—your soulmate, your friends, your uncle, and perhaps even you, eventually. All you had to do was go with him.

Looking over at Jisung, who had a strangled expression on his face, your palpitating heart came to a quick halt at the recollection of all that had happened ever since you met him.

He has done so much for you, and you hurt his feelings. Immediately after you promised each other that you would never do so again. You just keep hurting him. 

Sucking in a deep breath, you let your arms fall limp at your side, and you nodded. “Okay,” you told him. “I’ll go. I need to talk to him for a little. Please.”

The man looked at you suspiciously. He gave Jisung a shove, and the boy stumbled forward. Realizing that he was finally free, he glanced behind him at the intimidating man before his head snapped back at you.

His heart broke when he looked at you, finding it hard to believe you chose to accept the deal instead of fighting against it. But when he made his way to you, his hands reaching desperately for yours, all he could do was giggle.  

“You thought I jumped through the portal,” he whispered.

You pursed your lips into a bitter smile. “I did. I’m sorry.”

“I was going to, actually,” he beamed a little. “To stay here with you.” 

You hummed out a low chuckle. Jisung was a precious boy. He was a lovely boy. He always has been. From his willingness to be fragile to his extraordinary capacity to love, from his loyal persistence to his forgiving nature, from the moment you met him until now.

He has taught you everything you knew, and he has given you all that you have come to love, and you learned that the red string of fate was a mere suggestion. The affection that blossomed between you both was chosen. You loved each other even before realizing you were meant to be. 

With your hand pressed against his soft cheek, your lips quirked downwards into a soft smile as it hit you just how much leaving him would tear you apart. Jisung mirrored your smile, pushing your palm against his cheek and pulling a face to lighten the mood before he dampened it into a grim mood.

“Are you going to leave me?” he asked.

You sucked in a breath and pinched his cheek. “If you look at me longer, I might not.”

Jisung grinned. You could see your reflection in his squinted eyes regardless. “But I’m always looking at you.”

“Guess I will have to figure something out, then.” You reached in to hug him around his neck, burying your face close to his neck to sniff his scent for a little.

When you pulled away, Jisung looked apologetic, as if this had all been his fault. You stared at him fondly, but not without a tinge of bitterness laced beneath your equally apologetic eyes. You brushed the hair from his eyes. “I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to live without me for a little while.”

He followed you after you took a peek at the councilman to notify him that you were ready to leave. He trailed behind you without letting go of your hand and approached the elder with you. His grip tightened when he felt the councilman’s gaze on him.

“That boy will not be coming with us.”

“I know,” you said as you stepped closer to the man’s side and turned around to face Jisung. You gave him a nod. “He’s just holding onto me.” 

The councilman sneered faintly. Young love. He knew nothing of it, and you wouldn’t be surprised that he didn’t.

After he held up his hand and waved his slender fingers, the air around you picked up, gradually blowing a pile of fallen leaves on the ground from all corners of the area toward you.

The wind pushed the weightless leaves into the air and circled them into a portal-shaped entrance that would gradually close around you and him. Jisung gawked at the phenomenon; he would have been so excited if you weren't leaving him indefinitely. 

Jisung could feel his heartbeat as he anxiously waited for the closing portal to reach just a certain point below your head, nose, and waist, a tiny circle of opening. Then he slammed his other hand around your wrist and pulled at you! Harshly!

You ducked low so your head could go through the rapidly closing portal—you were right about the councilman panic-closing it. You hopped up, and with Jisung pulling on the other side, you barely grazed past the edge of the pressuring leaves and went out the other side. 

He wrapped his arms around you to shield you from the rolling fall. His chest heaved up and down visibly to catch his breath, and you quickly sat up. He followed your movement, his eyes wide as he looked to you for confirmation that you were okay.

When he briefly glanced down at your propped legs, he frowned at the burn on your sneakers and the disgusting gash the portal left on one of your ankles. It was bleeding profusely, but you were not reacting to it because you realized the portal hadn’t fully closed yet.

“He caught on.” You cursed under your breath as you immediately got up, grabbing Jisung. 

Your eyes fearfully glanced back and forth between the purple string and the reopening of the councilman's portal. As you focused on creating a pattern, you could hear Jisung's breath quickening as a sign that something was looming over. You looked up to find a clone standing behind you, inching very close for comfort—all you did was take your eyes off for longer than a second. The councilman was already planning to exert force.

You angrily forgone the pattern you were making for something entirely random; all you needed was a medium to use magic. It didn't have to be accurate anymore. 

You made the first punch, the power-up of your strings allowing you to push the clone a few yards away from you. You took the chance to advance at his incoming clones, hiking up your speed and strength to escape rather than win this fight. You were never going to win. The councilman's clones were durable, made of natural resources, and littered everywhere.

Rather than a fight of ability, this was a fight of wits and stamina. You could exhaust him or catch him off-guard so you could run away. Then it was laying low until he found you again. The cycle would only end at his death. 

Jisung watched as you landed a kick to the first shadowy figure and then another. He wasn't sure what else he could do at this point. It wasn't like he could join the fight and punch one of them. Or could he?

He tilted his head, and his eyes rounded in thought. Sure, they were strong, as displayed just a while ago. But he observed that they were made of stones that crumble easily. Would he have something to use in his backpack? An ultra-heavy textbook, perhaps?

You slammed a clone to the concrete wall when you saw that it was trying to regroup the rocks that used to be its arm, and you squeezed its neck and made sure you broke it before letting go. Turning around, it took you a moment to process the sight of Jisung creeping up behind one of the clones.

Your eyes widened as you moved forward, knowing reasonably well his presence was probably detected, but before you could take a step forward, you were held back by both of your arms. You cursed and squirmed. Letting out a vacant scream, a blow of air pressure pushed the rock clones backward. 

Jisung squealed when the clone he was approaching snapped around at the commotion. He clenched his fingers over the hard-cover calculus textbook and made a clumsy throw. The book slammed into the clone’s chest, breaking a hole and causing its body to crumble.

He huffed at the unexpected result of his attack, ready to pump his fists in the air to cheer, only to be caught by a pair of human hands instead. He looked up and gasped at the councilman glaring down at him. 

“Hey! Hands off!” you yelled after you saw the whitening knuckles on the elder’s hands, squeezing Jisung’s wrists like his life depended on it. Pointing a finger at the councilman, you chanted with the sparks of your strings jumping across your skin, “Incendium!”

Upon the heated burn on his skin, the councilman forcefully let Jisung go, causing him to stumble to the ground. You wasted no time unleashing another attack, waving your hand to create an electrical barrier around the councilman where it would threaten to close around him if he moved.

He gritted his teeth, sneering at you momentarily before he seemed to collect his emotions. He stood straight, but his arms twitched eerily as if summoning something. You knew he was trying to think up something to get out of the electrical ward you’ve built up around him, so you quickly turned to Jisung and flicked your wrist. 

“Motus,” you said under your breath, bringing him to you with a movement spell. Quickly dragging him to his feet, you reached over his head and hugged him to you, a familiar spell leaving your lips. “Phasmatos Ianua Reclu.”

A portal appeared and wrapped itself around you both, sending you guys away from the alleyway and to a more remote area Jisung could not recognize. When you two landed on the ground, your alerted mind scanned your surroundings thoroughly—you two made it to a ghosty riverside near a residential area.

It was a sketchy shortcut students used to get home quicker or sometimes to hang around and throw rocks under the bridge walls.  

It was one of the many locations you resided in before Jisung’s parents graciously took you in. You never slept around this place. You only liked sitting on the edge of the bridge and watching the sun go about its way in the sky. Occasionally, you would hide behind shadows and watch over those stumbling back home after a late night. 

You finally gave yourself the time to catch your breath when you came to the fortunate conclusion that you made it out of the convenience store area. Whoever has the morning shift tomorrow must deal with the collapsed building.

Your brows furrowed when the adrenaline rush in your lungs began to fade because the pain and fatigue finally settled in. You inhaled and choked on the air, making you pant in hyperventilation. As you tried to breathe, your body broke down in rigid shivers, but your skin and bones ached through the blood seeping through your wounds. 

Jisung stumbled in the process of catching your body. He dropped to the ground with you, anxious tears welling up in his eyes and his mouth blurting out strings of incoherent thoughts he failed to keep in his mind. He had no idea your strings had already seeped deep into your arms. He had barely seen anything just then. 

Should he call an ambulance? How would he explain this situation? If the medical institution discovered a magical threat in the city, would they get the government involved? You could be taken away and jailed! They could capture you and hand you over to protect the city.

Or, the magical council has all the capabilities to wreak havoc on innocents who are just doing their jobs, too, would it not? No, that cannot be the case. They must have some form of signed treaty to prevent those situations. He should call an ambulance and lie. No! Wait to talk until he gets an attorney!  

His eyes fumbled and shook as they glanced over your figure. His hands were unsure of where to put themselves. He has always been gentle with you, but he was deathly afraid of the pressure a pair of gentle hands can add to your skin.

Red, red, red, red, red, red—you have multiple strings on each arm, spaced without a pattern. Multiple strings were taking and taking the resources your body could provide. Strings tainted with the shade of your blood to a point its original color could no longer be recognized. 

“We need, uhm… shit–” Jisung worried himself into a short coughing fit, which urged his tears to spill, and he began to sob uncontrollably–“we need less blood. You’re bleeding a lot. I can remember the healing pattern with the–what about grass? Does grass count as strings? I can split the grass into tiny pieces. They will be like needles!” 

Your strings were all too short to be used energetically. They were sucking up as much as they could to fulfill your needed output to fight a man twice your age and twice the knowledge you have in magic.

They knew from your erratic heartbeat, from the calm you received when you gazed at Jisung, and your wish was to get him out of there no matter what. So they sunk into your skin, and you bled and bled and bled. 

Jisung cooed under his breath when you dropped to the side into his body. He carefully wrapped you between him, his twitchy fingers hovering above your head fearfully. There must not be anything he could do but let you rest. You would have told him if there was, so he stayed quiet. He pressed his lips together to avoid huffing for air so his chest could remain a stable wall to lean on, and he waited for you to recover temporarily. 

Desperately, he held in his tears. He almost looked ugly doing so; his neck ached from looking at the sky whenever he felt the swelling in his eyes, the muscles of his cheeks stretched as he forced a smile onto his face to decrease his desire to sob, and he would not let himself breathe as he needed to.

He suffocated in helplessness; he was suffocating in uselessness. He could only rock himself back and forth with you being fragile in his arms.  

The ache in his chest was not tolerable. He despised it. He should have never asked you to stay for him. He should have made a promise to find you instead. He should have heard you out. He should have apologized earlier. He should never have gotten upset. He should never have been selfish.

If you had never been his soulmate, it would have been for a reason; his perceived unworthiness owned a strong presence in your relationship. It made sense for you both to be without a link. It made sense. 

The universe did make an incompetent choice, but it was on your part that it made a mistake. 

“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault, this is all my fault,” Jisung whispered as he looked down at you.  

You opened your eyes to hint that you received his words. Endearment rushed to the top of your head, and your eyes started to fawn over Jisung’s face.

There was tenderness in his tears and snot, the redness of his face, and the wetness of his lashes. There was love in his ugliness, and there was love in his willingness to show you his ugliness. He was ugly, and your heart leaped because you were enamored with him. 

“Silly boy,” you exhaled. 

He was but a child. You were, too, just a child. None of all of this was any of your fault. Children should never blame themselves for an adult’s mistake, even if they had loved them. 

“You’ve got a cut on your cheek. Does it hurt?” you asked.

“I cannot feel it,” he replied with several curt nods, holding you closer. He didn’t even know he got injured. “I can only feel yours.” 

You pulled your lips into a thin line once you were aware of your sour arms. They felt much better now that you ceased the magic, but the permanent stitch your family heritage held around your body would continue to deal you blows until someone came around to tank it for you. Your consciousness brushed past the strings, and you relaxed for the wave of depression that dropped over your head. 

You wished your parents were here. You wished your uncle would wake up. You wished Minho would appear with a change of heart. You wished magic could have been taught to you, and you didn't have to learn it at your pace. You wished you were more knowledgeable, and you wished you were stronger. You wished you had someone capable of handling this situation to cry to. You wished your family did not leave you things that could hurt as their parting gift. 

You wished you had help because, for the first time, you were truly helpless.

There was nothing you could do now but hope things turn out for the better. 

You wished it did not have to come to this.  

Dust collected around the ground without you noticing. There was no warning when you were suddenly blown back a few feet. You coughed against the floor once you stopped dragging. You could feel the blood through your possibly ripped clothes, your arms began surging with blood against the friction, and you hurt all over.

Your head hammered, your eyes infiltrated with dirt, and your lips became bitter and dry. You hurt all over. You wanted to die. 

Jisung was no longer beside you, and unfortunately, you knew too well the source of the sudden and very generous explosion. Scrambling to get up, you barely pulled yourself together so you could look around in search of his body.

You squinted your eyes, your head turning left and right, and then you finally caught sight of a fallen figure once the fog began to vanish. You choked up in shock with widened eyes and tumbled forward clumsily in an attempt to stand up. 

Your knees ached to the point you could barely stand and walk. After one too many falls, you resorted to dragging yourself over to him. His weak arms lay by his side; he seemed lifeless, but you did not want to be sure yet. Ignoring the cracks in your lungs, jagged breaths forcing themselves out of your parted lips to keep you alive enough, you pathetically wiggled your way over to the boy you loved. 

Footsteps inched closer to where you struggled, and just before your fingertips touched that of Jisung’s, the councilman grabbed you by your hair with ease and pulled yours upward. You struggled against his grasp while his free hand went around the front of your throat loosely, unlikely being unsure of his next move but rather wanting to give his peace of mind before executing his plan. 

“That was smart, I must admit,” he said slowly, eying you without remorse. “But you’ve made a mistake of bleeding all over the floor, [Name]. It isn’t hard to track you with my clones when your blood smells so strong.” 

You lost the capability to look below yourself. His grip on your hair yanked your neck backward so you could only stare at his terrible face. But he was right. He was telling the truth. You made a mistake on that part, yet simultaneously, you could not have predicted what he could do with your level of understanding when it came to magic.

There were millions of tracking spells with millions of loopholes. Preventing one does not mean you can avoid the other.  

“I hate you,” you declared tearfully. “I did nothing to you.” 

“Bad things happen to everyone. Tragedy is not karma. It does not descend only upon the worst. It is indiscriminate,” he mused. 

“You only did bad things to my family,” you spat. 

“I never said I was the incarnation of tragedy, only one of its executioners,” he said, looking at you with boredom. “I gave you a chance to leave peacefully, but you’ve chosen the alternative. I hope you understand that you were the one who brought this upon yourself and your friends.” 

He dropped you carelessly, and you fell to the ground with a harsh thud. You groaned at the pain that spiked up your arm, having landed your weight directly on it. There was no resting moment as you quickly realized the councilman was making his way to where Jisung was.

You strung out throaty and strangled screams then, the rush of fear giving you the push you needed to stand up, only for you to fall a couple of steps later. 

The councilman crouched near Jisung and acknowledged him when they met eyes. Jisung could barely tell what was going on; his body felt shattered. He was thrown against something, perhaps a lamp pole, and he swore his head scratched something sharp. He could not be sure. He just knew he was losing consciousness, and he could not dare to move with stinging pain. But he knew the face of that man. He recognized the face of the man who ruined everything, and he was spiteful. 

Mustering as much strength as he could, Jisung spat, “Go to Hell.” 

The councilman was prepared to grab Jisung by his collar when he stopped. The pause of movement indicated an examination of the fallen boy, and he wondered if someone as old as he wanted a weak and wilfully annoying teenager to be as affective as he wanted to be. Go to Hell? What magnificent words. He would be thinking about them when he heads to bed tonight. 

“We all shall,” the councilman said. Not a moment later, he stood back up to approach you. He noticed your tear-stained cheeks and ignored them, picking you up like a rag doll and turning you to face him. 

“I realize you will never succumb to the council willingly so long as he, or any of your friends, exist on this Earth. If they are why you stay, then I shall eliminate those reasons, which I planned to start with that one over there,” the councilman said. “But it seems he has landed on something sharp. Death would be upon him very soon.”  

“Hmm! No-wait! Stop!” you protested within his grasp when you realized he was planning to bring you out of this place. You squirmed and moved about, hoping he would drop you to the ground. “Stop it, please! Let me go! Let me go!” 

Taken back by your sudden burst of strength, the councilman released you. He watched with old annoyance as you scrambled up from the ground and darted away. Fresh blood slid over the old, but the pain never once stopped. Nevertheless, you tumbled over to where Jisung lay and halted to kneel when you were near. 

There was no visible detection of an injury on his body, but a pool of blood was coming from beneath his torso and head. Your agitated breathing quickened in the face of a medical enigma.

There was no way for you to heal his injuries if you knew not the questions of where nor what. You needed to prepare for the type of strings, their length, the kind of spells, and many more things to successfully maintain the most remarkable outcome: Jisung staying alive. 

“Okay, okay,” you exhaled through your words and looked affirmatively at him. “Where does it hurt? Do you-do you know?” 

“It is the back of his head and the left side of his chest.” 

You closed your eyes, letting the burning anger that manifested from merely hearing the sound of the councilman's voice ring away, and then you heeded his words. Reaching your hand down to his neck, you cooed at Jisung with a warning that you were going to touch for his injury before, bravely and with a lot of heartache, you pressed the tips of your fingers against his skin. 

You winced when he withered, and apologies left your lips in rapid fire. You were unsure how he managed to get a cut like that, but you have got to assume a similar issue was present on his back. Since there was nothing sharp around his neck area, that must mean whatever he landed on was protruding through his chest.

It was not invisible before, but the more you were aware, the more the blood was growing in his dark-colored clothes. It soaked into his black vest, dripping to his gray uniform pants.  

It must be agonizing and perhaps even weird to have something lodged in your body so violently.  

“Okay, it’s okay,” you mumbled through an infuriated jumble of thoughts. 

You moved your hands around your pockets, looking for any extra strings you could use that hadn’t already been rooted deep into your arms. When you found none, you took off your bag and rummaged through all your things, hoping to find even a strand of saving grace. 

The councilman watched your measly figure with intrigue. Human devotion was as intense as possible, that much the old man understood. He did not go through his life condemning himself without a thought of devotion. But what he gave his life to was power and wealth, a beyond comfortable life where he could sneer and condescend, not other people or a soulmate. 

The fearful adrenaline rush must have ceased your ability to feel pain if you were desperately finding a source of string to use. Or, you do feel pain, but it was not enough to stop you from wreaking havoc upon yourself to save someone you cared deeply about. You may have weighed the consequences; between losing someone forever and being in treatable pain, you choose the pain.  

But could it be treatable? To chant the wrong spell on a string that has already been used, plus contrasting the purpose with its color—the string will convulse around you because it was not being used according to its purpose.

Adding that onto all the sewed strings already on your arm... painful. He could almost shudder at the amount of magic your strings will suck out of you. Even if you manage to save Jisung, you would be dead by then through blood loss and a lack of blood flow. 

All of that for one boy. Soulmates or not, was Jisung worth it all? Was a human boy worth the magic inherited through your blood? 

"Your strings have sunken into your skin, my child. Your body is bleeding all over, and it seemed to have corrupted your common sense," he pointed out the obvious. "You will kill yourself before you can save him. If you use up the strings now, you won't be able to fight me anymore, and it would also be much easier for me to kill him if he is without your protection." 

You paused your movement, the chanting falling off your tongue. You forced yourself to clear your mind so you could think, your clueless eyes gazing forward without a cloud of feelings.

Gears and logic turned in your head, calculating and analyzing, and suddenly, your shoulders collapsed with your weight. Your torso fell forward, and your mouth hung open in a defeated gasp. 

As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. This would be much worse than last time when you saved Jisung from the car crash. Only one wrong string was spaced out on one arm at that time. This time, you've got a variety of colors tightly packed across both, and you are already bleeding from them.

Exhausting yourself to heal him would result in utter failure. But you still had to help him somehow. You still had to heal Jisung somehow. You had to keep him alive somehow. You just needed one more string. You needed to deal the final blow.  

This was the legacy your family left you. 

Bringing your hand up to Jisung's cheeks, you forced a small smile onto your face. “Hang on here, okay?” you told him, leaning down to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I’ll come back and fix you right up. Just hang on for a moment.” 

You could taste metal mixed with dusty bitterness and salty tears in your mouth. There was nothing you wanted more than to take a hot bath.

As you stood up with your back facing the councilman, you fantasized about sinking into a pool of warm water and relaxing into a deep slumber. You fantasized about the life you could have had, leaned into the vengeance and the anger you have accumulated throughout the years, leaned into the pain and the fear you had felt for your friends who had been alone when they met the councilman. 

Your strings glowed in their respective color, zapping a lightning bolt up to your skin and causing a scorching heat in your bloodstream. Your blood had nowhere to run but to be let out through the pores of your skin and used for your revenge plot. Everywhere in your body was dead-end. You could not begin to explain how relieved you were to feel anything at all. It was precisely that kind of energy you needed to cast a spell as strong as the one you were about to do. 

You could barely remember it. Your knowledge came from a few years ago when you crept back into your abandoned home after sneaking into the city to visit your uncle. 

You have done that in hopes of being able to research spells that could wake him up, and you had come across it hidden in a grimoire of dark magic spells, which you learned when you were young were off-limits.

Those spells only existed to test the potentials of spell casters, not to be used by them. It was at the top of the bookshelves in your father’s office; it seemed like he did try to hide it from your younger self, but you were much older now, and he never got the chance to find a better hiding spot. 

The councilman sighed in exhaustion. He did not anticipate this level of exertion. “I am glad to see you standing.” 

You turned around; your expression was suspicious and unenthusiastic. There was only one thing you must do: break the first physical rule of a spell-caster. You were not necessarily confident in your ability to accomplish the task. Still, it was either this way or the highway, given that this way wasn’t equivalent to the highway already.  

When you were within arm’s length of the councilman, you lunged forward and quickly stumbled when your knees gave away. He rolled his eyes at your futile attempt and grabbed you by your hair, yanking you up from the mid-fall so he could sneer down at you in contempt for wasting his time. “If only I had more time training your combat skills.” 

You laughed. “That was a bluff.” 

“Was it?” 

“Yeah.”  

You pulled your hand away from your back and gripped the glass shard tightly. Without a second thought, you punctured the shard into his abdomen, forcing him to release you. You dropped the shard onto the ground, which was where you found it in the first place when you knelt near Jisung.  

There must have been broken glass around the area you never knew of. Ever since you found a place to stay, you rarely got to roam around this place and people-watch anymore. Jisung must have hidden the glass shard under himself in preparation for attacking. Still, since he never got the chance to, he secretly gave it to you. 

“That was not clever, child.” 

“I don’t care.” You put your hands together and channeled the remaining power from the strings in your arms. You caught a moment of realization in his eyes, which screamed for you to pause, but you discarded him like he did to you. “Vapius Mor Molaedo!” 

You chanted the spell through gritted teeth, clutching through the razor-like pain when your strings massively tightened around your skin, causing redness to squirt through the air. The blood didn’t fall to the ground, however. Your strings caught each droplet with their magic and linked it toward where your hand was, adding more fuel to the death spell you had just chanted. 

A heated explosion blasted across your palm, burning your skin and blinding your eyes. Surely, people walking near the area would be able to hear it. It was loud enough to echo and travel through the atmosphere. Dust erupted from the impact, and you closed your eyes instinctively, hiding your face in your arms until all quieted down.  

You let your arms drop to your side in exhaustion, and you tumbled to the ground in pain. You moaned and withered and squirmed against yourself, your limbs flailing about in the air in seconds before constricting back to your chest.

The unlikeable pattern of your movement directly results from how immensely sharp your body ached. You cried out loud for once, the frustration and fear you felt finally being released. 

Your head arched amidst your outburst, your eyes supposedly gazing at the fallen body of the councilman, but instead, you were met with his soulless eyes. Widening in fear, you gasped and scrambled to your knees, only to fall back on your hips to the ground. Your breath was jagged and uneven, and you found yourself crawling backward to avoid the horrendous picture you saw in front of you.  

You have beheaded the councilman.  

You did that, you thought. You killed him.

An acid rush engulfed your lungs, running up your throat, and you immediately turned to the side, your mouth agape with a hellish urge to puke at what you had done. But your throat was afraid that if you did vomit, the content would burn and scar your insides for life. Trembling eyes coward away from your blood-stained hands. The blood of, perhaps, not the innocent, but still of blood.  

A justified murder is still murder, nonetheless. The intention does not take away the severity and consequence of the action. Vigilantism does not belong to a broken teenager with a subconscious plot for revenge.

Trauma does not flee because the world is just; it will learn its victims and mold itself into the shape of biology and law just to feed off its host. 

And we shall suffer from what is fair. We all suffer from what is unjustifiably fair. 

You wanted to cry. You were already weeping in disgust and, minutes ago, in patheticness. But the urge to cry was not in the form of tears but clenched fists, nails digging into dirty and skin scratched with redness.

You were enraged and delirious. You were furious that this was the legacy your family left you: to make no choices and to suffer from what you desired. 

There was one other thing.  

Not allowing yourself more time to pull it all together, you steadied your breath as best as you could before quickly standing up straight and running back to where Jisung was. 

“Jisung! Jisung! Oh no, don’t sleep-wake up!” You shook him as soon as you knelt beside him, holding his body up and placing him on your lap. 

He opened his eyes weakly. It took him time to adjust to the view, and he barely gave you a smile when he saw you. He heard the explosions loud and clear; it would have been weird for him not to, considering the degree of it.

The ringing in his head worsened after suffering the shock wave it released. As it was strong enough to decapitate the councilman’s head, Jisung may have barely scraped past the pressure.  

Glancing up at you, a noise came from the back of his throat when he saw tears streaming down your face. He nudged his head against your side, trying to comfort you as much as his body allowed him to. 

“Hey,” you laughed, wiping your hand before touching his face momentarily. “You’ve lost a lot of blood, but don’t worry. I’m going to fix you up, okay? You wait.” 

Jisung wanted to protest. You were already bleeding all over. He wasn't sure how you would go about helping him at all other than further harming yourself. Nonetheless, he wanted the pain in his body to go. Therefore, he chose to wait. 

You closed your eyes in thoughts then, thinking of what you could do. 

Considering the severity of his injuries and your lack of energy, you could not heal him fully. But, perhaps Jisung didn’t need a full recovery rather than to hold on for another while until the law enforcement arrived, which you were hoping they would.

You looked off to the side at the dead body and flinched away. You have to be gone before anybody can see you. But you were unsure how much magic he needed to hold on. Or he could already be taking his last few breaths. You had no idea. 

You ran the risk of messing up and miscalculating. It may also only be one to two patrol police officers that came by. Then, there would be more waiting for an ambulance to arrive.

Curating the speed of your heartbeat by steadying your breathing now that the aftermath of the fight was beginning to wane, you sorrowfully looked down at Jisung.

You caressed his hair, forcing your cheeks into a visible smile upon his resting state. He was still bleeding, or perhaps he was close to running out of blood to pour. You knew his lips were turning dry and white, which was not a good sign.

A clench of the heart was nothing short of an impactful memory. It was just as painful as the physical injuries you sustained during this altercation. You did this to him. You were partially the reason behind such suffering he was much willing to endure. This may not even be the tip of the iceberg; you knew there was more than one councilman behind the downfall of your family.  

One came after you and failed. The rest would follow suit with drastically different strategies. What then? If Jisung doesn’t die today, he will be the target of another. Eventually, so would your friends. Sweet Felix and his gullible nature; Hyunjin and his blind protectiveness; Seungmin and his envious maturity—children under the hands of unmerciful adults who would push and shove to get what they want. 

If there was anything you should do, it should be to destroy any connection anybody has to you and subsequently distance yourself from the human world. Your last and most logical resort was returning to where you came from. 

The breath you forced yourself to hold in finally got out when you came to that terrifying conclusion. The sheer amount of misery boiling inside your chest from knowing that everything you did was for nothing pushed a temporary sob out of you—you felt useless, but more importantly, it was regret and delusionality that bit at your flesh. 

This should have never happened. If you could return in time, you would have never offered to help him jump through the school gate. You would have left him be. If a God could hear you, may they heed your words. You would have left him be. 

“It’s okay,” you muttered to Jisung as you nodded in agreement before grabbing his hand. “It’s going to be fine.”  

You gasped when Jisung suddenly cried out, his voice raspy. You thought something inside him spiked; perhaps the glass shard lodged inside him moved because you were uncontrollably shifting about.

However, you knew he put two and two together when he snatched his hand from you and began protecting it as if his life depended on it. He realized that you were planning to cut the soulmate string. 

He looked frightened. He looked more terrified than when he would die at the hands of a man he had never met before. The redness and the veins popping at his neck and arm showed how much he strived to protest your solution. 

It wasn’t only about the fact that you two would stop being soulmates anymore. That part wasn’t even in the premises of his fear. It should never have been about his place as your soulmate. It was about you ceasing to exist from his memory once the string is snapped. It was about him losing the constant of watching you grow in his mind. He was going to lose the past, the current, and the future of you. 

You would cease to exist in his world. Everything would be back as before, but it would be different. He wouldn’t know why, but it simply cannot be the same.  

"Mmm!” he rasped out with grit, uncontrollably gasping for a release of pain when he felt the piercing through his chest. His eyes rolled up as he pursed his lips tight to hold the feeling. “No!” 

You closed your eyes to be blind to his struggle. It made it easier to ignore his desperate wishes. Your hands clumsily navigated to his chest, pulling apart his intertwined hands. Apologizes left the aggression of your gentle hands. This lover’s quarrel was making you short of breath.

You couldn’t bring yourself to pronounce any words. There were only actions, and it was speaking more volumes than ever.  

“Stop! No! Stop, ple-please!“ His words were short, quick, jagged, and ran through between coughs and inhales, but his intentions were clear. He cannot let go. He knew love was about letting go, but he could not see the sense in this. He cannot accept this.  

Jisung didn’t want to forget you. Jisung would rather die as your soulmate than live not having known you. At least that way, he left belonging to somebody, and the somebody wasn’t just anybody but you, the person he fell so deeply in love with. 

He just got you back. There were so many things he still wanted to do. He wanted to do everything and nothing with you; to sit around in his room and look out at the sky, chat quietly at night, and giggle when his dad tells you both to shut up.

He hasn’t done enough yet; he hasn’t kissed you, touched you, and definitely hasn’t loved you to the amount he was satisfied with yet. It could not be over before it even began. 

His arms gave away with weakness after struggling for longer than his body initially allowed him to, betraying him. He ached—everything about him hurt. Everything about him was collapsing into a forced undoing. His body, his skin, his body, his mind, his heart, you.

He could not struggle anymore. Any last strength in him went to ugly cries, the tears choking out through pathetic sobs as he held onto your hand as a last, meek attempt to get you to change your mind. 

Jisung’s cries were so loud and gut-wrenching that your hands trembled while trying to find your soulmate string. Part of you wished he fought more, but you did not dare to blame him when he stopped. You put him through all this wreckage. He deserved the breather if he wanted one, while you deserved to drown in guilt as he relentlessly wept beneath you. 

But the string took a lot of work to find. It was hard to find when you didn’t want to find it. You clawed at your pinky finger and then at his, and you couldn’t find it. Before your heart could be at peace with the idea of losing everything, it would not show itself to you, forcing you to use the resources you have—your own strings. 

“Fuck–fuck! Damn it!” you choked out the yells, your fists reaching up to knock on your head. Jisung was looking weaker by the second, urging you to get a move on. 

You ran your tentative hands over your bloodied arms, your lips pursing to hold back the sobs as you looked around at nothing. Your skin felt tight, strangled, like blades lodged between your flesh. It would be painful to heal Jisung.

At this rate, you would die saving him, and you would die if you did not save him. In front of this double-edged sword, the only privilege given was a choice to make—do you kill only one of you or both of you? 

“Okay…” You told yourself to get over it, and you did. 

Placing your hands over his face, you smiled down at Jisung. He was staring back at you. Maybe he was just looking in hopes that he wouldn’t forget, hoping he could break all odds of the universe and remember you somehow. His eyes hazed out when you leaned down to douse his face with feather-like kisses. He held your hand, feeling the faintest smile overcoming him.

He thought this would be the best way to go if you had no plans to save him. 

“I’m not breaking the string, okay? I’m going to heal you,” you hummed against his assumption and removed your hand from his face. You moved it down to his abdomen in preparation.

After you chanted, you could feel the magic in your hands vibrating. Immense power was released, and more importantly, your strings were angry. They clenched around your skin, slicing through your tissues and causing your injuries to squirt blood.

You doubled over at the pain but kept your hands flat against Jisung’s body, waiting and waiting for the pain to fade as an indication that the healing was done. You kept your body lurched forward just in case of fainting; if you did faint, your hands would still be on him, hopefully healing even beyond your passing.

Your eyes began to see white when the ringing in your ears and the squeezing of strings around your arms stopped abruptly. 

Jisung felt blood rush into his head again. His eyesight was unburied by fog, and his breathing returned naturally to him once more. You healed him—oh lord, you healed him!

Sitting up, he was prepared to lung himself at you when, with a plop, you dropped forward onto his lap. His gaze shifted immediately when he saw the dark red color that adorned your arms. He was no expert, but they looked like fresh blood. 

“[Name]…?” You did not respond. 

“[Name]?” His voice quickened in its pitch. He jerked up, putting his hands on your shoulders, and pulled you to his chest. 

Your eyes were shut, and you felt lifeless, easy to throw around. Jisung touched his hand to your arm and flinched at the cutting sensation. Blood seeped through the cushion of his index finger, paired with a feverous heat he felt upon coming in contact with the strings on your arms. He looked at his hand and down at you, at your arms that had fallen to your side, and sighed shakily.

If your strings were submerged into your skin with such sharpness and heat, they would eventually kill you. He has to do something.

Before Jisung knew it, he threw himself into a spiral loop similar to yours a minute ago. 

Should he call the police? How long would it typically take an ambulance to arrive? What if you die between now and the help arriving? He should call for help anyway! It would be better than nothing, wouldn’t it? 

Jisung hoisted you onto his back but stumbled when he lost balance and dropped you on the floor. He cut his skin when he haphazardly reached for your arms to hold you, causing him to wince. Ignoring the pain, he reached for you again and attempted to throw you over his shoulder so he could run to somewhere with lights, but he was weak against your dead weight. He already knew that.

Dragging at you repeatedly was a delusional act he could not afford to give up on.

“[Name], come on!” 

As he pulled your lifeless body up, wanting to drag you to a place where help would be available, he briefly caught the dead body lying a few feet away. Shocked, he lost his footing with a yell and fell hips first onto the ground.

You fell against him, and he immediately tugged at your figure, pulling you close. Jisung unknowingly wiped his cheeks of soft tears as he watched the options narrow down one by one. He was racing the clock and losing.

The dead body and the decapitated head were an issue. Your injuries, paired with the gruesome scene, were a connection effortless to make. Jisung didn’t know what would happen to you if you got charged with murder. You weren’t legally an adult yet, so your sentencing should be light, but that only applied to people like himself, not people like you. Especially not when you murdered a high-level authoritative figure. He could be sending you straight to jail by calling the police. 

“But–ah, shit,” he croaked and looked down at you. He caressed your face and begged, “Damn it, [Name]. Wake up, please! Please!”

He sat there and cried. He remembered tears rolling like this when he was younger. Back then, he had a pair of scraped knees because he ran too fast down the stairs at the park. Fat, sympathy-inducing tears fell down his cheeks with no one around.

Jisung looked around him to soak in the vacant area, and he could not stop crying for help, for his friend, for you. He couldn’t call the police. He couldn’t trust the ambulance. He couldn’t reach his friend for help fast enough. He couldn’t scream for anybody’s help. He couldn’t even rely on himself to get you to safety. 

There was one last resort. Something he desperately didn’t want to think about.

The soulmate string.

Jisung hiccuped between sobs. Maybe he should end it here with you. Perhaps he should just kill himself and die on the ground, holding onto you. 

He slowly scooted to the wall of the bridge and leaned against it. He hugged you tightly, the skin that went over the string surrounding your arms bleeding with every deep cut he pressed into himself. It was a form of self-afflicted punishment for being useless, helpless, and outright terrible.

This was all, still, his fault. If only he knew how to fly or was smarter and stronger, then he wouldn’t be debating if he should save you or kill himself.

He found himself laughing after a while. This must be how you felt just now, except unlike him, you wouldn’t struggle against his decision. You were breathing lightly on his chest, your life being drained away slowly. You would do what he chooses to do, unlike him. 

“Okay,” he told himself, the same way you told yourself. 

This—saving you—was the one thing he could do for you. This was the only thing he could do for you. Not just the breakage of the red string of fate but also eating dinner with you at the convenience store, inviting you over to his home, introducing you to all of his friends, sharing your phone numbers, feeding the messenger bird you sent him, holding your hand, holding you close, bleeding and cutting his flesh, staying with you despite everything, and choosing you over anything. 

He will choose you over anything. Even if you two are not soulmates anymore, even if he suffers through the process, even if you forget his name, face, voice, and warmth. 

Putting you on the floor gently, Jisung leaned close and pressed your forehead to his. He nudged the tip of your nose against his, his tears mixing in and rolling down to your lips where you could taste the saltiness if you were conscious. He timidly pressed his lips against yours, then pulled away to pepper kisses over your face. You would be okay, he thought, and it soothed him.

He slowly reached for your hand and fumbled for your pinky finger. 

“I love you so much. You will not remember,” he whispered. “I never want any other soulmate but you.”

Jisung intertwined his fingers with yours. He couldn’t feel it, but the magic flowed directly from his veins to your body, seeping through your skin and finding the source of your discomfort. A bright white light surrounded him. It felt graceful, warm with a tint of coolness, like clean river water flowing over him.

The magic was great, but the execution was not. As the healing process began, the blade-like strings strung between your flesh started to pull away at the same time as your consciousness returned.

You screamed in pain, your body jerking about as your hands scratched at your arms, hoping to stop the tearing. Tears welled in your eyes and wasted no time falling. Jisung was thrown into a fit of panic once again.

He pressed his hands against your body, keeping you down and apologizing repeatedly for something he had no control over. It felt like he was gutting you alive, and he hated it. He wanted to die. You continued to scream and cry and squirm under him, and he just—sigh. God, he wanted to die. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispered near your head, feeling snot run down his nose. It was impossible not to cry with you. “Please just endure it. Please! I’m sorry, but please!”

He could see your wound heal as your strings detached from your skin one by one, slowly fading into nothingness. The blood stopped pouring out of you eventually, leaving only what previously stained you. Your screaming gradually stopped once all the strings were pulled out of your flesh, and Jisung shakily let his forehead rest against yours. 

Your chest heaved more visibly to showcase your breathing. He pressed his hand to your heart, feeling for its pace. One, two, one, two, one, two. He smiled, and he blacked out.

Felix was the first person you saw when you woke up. After noticing your gentle stirs, he immediately dropped his phone on the chair and rushed to your side, almost crashing into you.

He held himself back by putting his weight on the side of the bed where the railings were put up, and he beamed down at you when you opened your eyes to look at him. 

Your eyes traveled to Felix soon. His body bounced with faint excitement, but his tearful eyes told a traumatic story you could hear through your assumptions. He looked as gentle and bright as ever, symbolizing peace in everyday life.

It made you relax easier into your pillow, and you felt free to shut your eyes again, knowing it had all been done. Your friends got out. They were safe now. 

“Hey, Felix,” you greeted tiredly. 

“[Name]!” He carefully took your hand, eyes glimmering with tears. “Oh! I’m so glad you woke up!”

“Have you been waiting here?” You raised a brow weakly after opening your eyes a fraction just to smile at him. 

Felix giggled, nodding his head eagerly. His smile had a sunny disposition, as it always did. “Yeah! Seungmin and I have been going in and out of the hospital. I am in charge of looking after you for now!”

“Okay,” you sighed in acknowledgment. Swallowing a dry knot in your throat, you asked, “Did you find me?”

“No, I didn’t,” he replied with a gentle shake of his head. “Someone brought you and Jisung in. Thank god you were still around the area, so you both got taken here.”

“Oh.” Your eyes were squinted after hearing his response, confused. You squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry, but who… is Jisung?” 

Felix frowned with a step back, and then he laughed awkwardly. “Han Jisung. Our friend–your friend!”

“I–“ You mimicked his frown sympathetically. “I don’t know who that is. Felix, are you messing with me?”

He should be asking you that question. He didn’t think you were messing with him, though. You were not the type to play such jokes on other people, let alone ones where you acted as if you didn’t know who Jisung was. He didn’t recall the doctors saying there was anything urgent about you either.

They couldn’t find any injuries on you, so they opted to do another check-up after you woke. But Felix thought amnesia was out of the picture, at least. His best speculation now was that something happened after he got teleported away. He wondered if he should ask.

“Are your fingers okay?” 

He snapped his attention back to you and looked down at the cast the doctor fitted for him. He touched it carefully and nodded, watching your smile dim upon seeing his injury.

You were blaming yourself for what happened, he could tell, and he did not want that. He didn’t blame you for anything. He never could. If anything, he has only been afraid for you after the portal closed in his face. He trusted you. He trusted you so much that he knew you would never let anything happen to Jisung, even if it meant putting your life on the line, and perhaps you did. He just didn’t know of it.

His biggest concern was still how you forgot about Jisung. Could it be that someone put a spell on you? Were you meant to forget only Jisung or everyone else? Would you forget him?

Staring at your unknowing smile, the hidden tears behind Felix’s eyes finally dropped. You stirred in shock, sitting up quickly to comfort him. 

“I’m so sorry! I don’t mean to cry–I really don’t!” he croaked out, rubbing his eyes harshly before he looked at you. “I was just–uhm. Everything had been so sudden, I wasn’t prepared for it!”

Everything in his life has changed since he met you in every way possible. 

Magic has always been a faraway dream. A group of powered people living in their own part of a city—he always wondered what your childhood world looked like.

Did flowers bloom all seasons because of Earth magic? Did railroads carry over to your side of the city when your kind could teleport anywhere you wanted? Has the ability to communicate with animals changed anyone's lifestyle? 

Then there were you and your past. Your troubling and problematic past were things Felix’s tender mind never thought about. He thought there would be no greed for more if everyone had power. But cruelty never ceases to exist. On a simple morning, three of his friends were hospitalized, all of you were threatened, and you forgot your soulmate.

His faraway dream was a childish delusion uncovered by cruelty and injustice. He could no longer call it a dream, but neither would he call it a nightmare, per se. Because you spent all your effort to make everything fruitful and great, you showed him the beauty of what magic could do to people and the world.

One part of every spiraling darkness stands a shining beacon, where people like you fight to keep the innocence intact. 

Everything changed. 

“I wish I could have done something to help,” he said. 

You furrowed your brows in remorse. With all the strength you could muster, you squeezed his good hand so hard that he slightly pulled back with a pained yelp. You glared at him then, scolding him with the warm gleam in your tired eyes, and shook your head.

“The best thing you can do is not to put yourself in danger,” you said, and your lips arched downward when he dejectedly shrunk his shoulders, obviously dissatisfied. “You’re so great, Felix. You’ve been such a kind friend, and I love the brownies you secretly baked me.”

He kept in touch with you after you and Jisung distanced. Losing a friend was not part of his vocabulary; he also needed to support Jisung. Those days have been stressful for him. Hearing that you enjoyed his effort to keep your friendship made him calm. 

“I can bake you more,” he said, his voice gentle with a croak. He leaned his head down to yours, bumping his forehead against your head. “Let’s never fight again.”

You giggled lowly in agreement before stringing onto him a sudden question, firmness swimming back onto your face. “Is Hyunjin okay?” 

Felix sucked in a deep breath, concern crossing his eyes for a moment before shaking his head. “He suffered no internal injuries. He got a terrible concussion, though. But overall, the doctors said he will be fine as long as he rests.”

You nodded acknowledgment. “Can I see him?”

“Yeah,” he beamed, but his mood quickly dampened into something more serious. “Oh! But let’s call a doctor over to check on you first!”

Despite feeling hurried, you sat on the bed and waited patiently with Felix after he pressed a button to call a doctor into the room. You took the time to figure out everything that happened and what you should do after those events.

Checking on your friends first was a must, so the next people you must find were Hyunjin and Seungmin. If you could, you would fill them in on what happened, which was that you killed a councilman, and the possible repercussions of it to see what they think you should do. After that, you must find your belongings and call Minho for help. 

The plan solidified in your head, and you wasted no time putting it into action. As soon as the doctor announced that you were all good to go, you had Felix bring you to see Hyunjin.

The boy, with confusing uncertainty, mentioned that Hyunjin might be catching on some sleep. You thought about it for about five seconds before deciding to shake him awake if he was. You needed to make sure he felt fine. 

Seungmin was not in Hyunjin’s room when you two arrived, which Felix assumed was because Hyunjin was awake and well. He let his jaw drop, feeling slightly annoyed that while sitting stone-still in your room, waiting for you to wake up, Seungmin was taking a short lunch break to the hospital cafeteria. Letting your arm slip away from his, Felix closed the door and leaned against it while you approached the bed.

He pulled a face when Hyunjin met eyes with you after putting his phone on his lap. You watched his brows knit at the center, his lips arched downward, and your legs immediately paused. Why did you expect anything else from him? He was never going to give you a warm, welcoming hug. Scoffing, you resumed walking and stood where your knees hit the edge of the hospital bed. 

“I came here to see how you are,” you said.

Hyunjin sniffed. He gave you a full scan before clicking his tongue. “You look better than me. That’s for sure.”

“Well, yeah? I–“ You paused. 

Reaching for your pockets for your card of strings, you found nothing in there. It could be that your belongings were stored somewhere else because you were admitted to the hospital for treatment, though. But you were sure! You were sure your arms were damaged beyond repair during your encounter with the councilman.

Even if he didn’t fight you, the spell you used to kill him would have caused the strings to sink into your arms and leave terrible scars behind. You glanced down at your skin and saw nothing. You were fine. You just fainted and slept for a while. 

Things were not adding up. 

“[Name]? Are you feeling okay?” Hyunjin asked when you pressed a palm to your narrowed eyes. He leaned his torso over to you, a gentle hand hovering over your arm and not quite touching it. “I was just joking.” 

“I–“ you shook off the thoughts and looked at Hyunjin–“I’m fine. How are you? You haven’t answered me.”

He leaned into the pillows behind him with a soft pout before he shrugged. “I’m mostly okay. I’ve never had something this heavy drop on me before.” 

“You and me both.” You breathed out an airy laugh, twiddling with your thumbs. You tried to push the awkward knot in your throat out of your mouth to say something good, but all you could manage was an apology. “I’m sorry about what happened.” 

He stayed silent for a while, his eyes softening only because you weren’t looking at him directly. 

But he was never mad at you.

You chose none of this. He could never be mad at you about this. If he had been the one to be taken away, he would have risked his life to keep you here so you would never have to go back to your home ever again. Even after he was treated and woke up in a faint haze, most of his thoughts were dedicated to worrying about you.

He was never mad at you. He would never chase you out of his life. He helped you build a better memory here. That effort could not go to waste so easily.

Hyunjin pursed his lips and huffed. “I suppose I can forgive you,” he muttered, turning his hand so he could squeeze yours. He smiled. “Did you save the day? Are you still leaving us?”

“I…” You sighed. Things were made complicated by your recent revelation. There was a lot more happening under your nose, you believed. Things that just slipped your mind. “Can we bring Seungmin over before we talk about everything?” 

“Oh, sure.” Hyunjin nodded in agreement. “Jisung came by just then to talk to him. I’m sure they’re just down the hall.” 

“Hyunjin!” 

Felix watched helplessly as you thanked Hyunjin and moved toward the door. It wasn’t hard for him to put two and two together. He did not know exactly what happened that led you to forget who Jisung was, but he knew that this was not the state Jisung should greet you in!

You having no memories of Jisung would give him a heart attack! Despite protesting in his head, he moved out of the way to let you leave when you approached. Feeling his heart beating out of his chest, the sudden peek of your head returning to the room made him sigh of relief.

“Felix, can I ask for you a favor?” you asked with your palms pressed together into a pleading motion. “Please help me get my stuff from… wherever they are. I really need my phone!” With that, you were gone in a flash. 

You peeked your head down the hall and frowned when you saw nobody familiar, but you doubted he could be far if he were merely talking to someone. Picking a random direction with a mumbled nursery rhyme, you spun on your heels and jogged to the right side of the hallway. Shuffling through nurses and patients, it took you more than just down the hall to find Seungmin sitting on a bench outside a random room. Next to him was a boy you’ve never met before.

“Seungmin!”

Jisung froze when he realized he had responded instinctively to your voice. As you jogged closer to where he sat, he wanted to shrink into the air and evaporate. He wanted to find an escape and leave quickly so he wouldn’t have to confront you. It was great to know that you were up and running, but that was to the extent he wanted to know about.

You could forget him on paper and in theory. He didn’t have to hear about you asking him for his name and who he was. But he couldn’t move. There was an affectionate weight on his legs that refused his decision to walk away from you, and it would stay there forever. 

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” you huffed after coming to a stop. Glancing off to Jisung, you briefly noticed his bloodshot eyes, and then you panicked and turned back to Seungmin.

The grimace on your face was almost hilarious to him, and your whispers were even funnier. You pointed at the room window subtly. “Oh my god, I’m sorry. Did something happen to his family?”

Seungmin stared at you, both in disbelief and in shock. He couldn’t believe it, but magic truly surprised him more and more with how outrageous its audacity to interfere with human lives was. Jisung filled him in on everything that happened.

He already knew some parts of it, such as the rules of the soulmate string, but he never thought it was possible until now when neither you nor Jisung acknowledged each other. But how could that be possible? How could Jisung get wholly erased from your memory when so many things about you have come to be directly led back to him? The cognitive conflict must be immeasurable.

“No, this–uhm.” Seungmin cleared his throat and gestured at Jisung. He stopped to look at his friend for permission, but Jisung gave him none, so he scrapped the notion of introducing you to each other. Instead, he rubbed his thighs and smiled faintly at you. “You were looking for me?”

You hummed with a nod. “Yeah. We need to talk.”

“Oh, but I–“

“Go,” Jisung whispered with a shove of his elbow. “Take care of them.”

“Jisung…”

“Please?”

Seungmin sighed defeatedly. Jisung was right. Sitting around and discussing what to do about losing your memories of him would bring them nowhere far. If anything, the person they should consult regarding this issue should be you. He could figure out a way to discreetly ask you about it, but from the little information they have regarding breaking a soulmate string, it seemed that amnesia would be permanent.

More importantly, Jisung needed time to deal with this loss—the loss of you and, by extension, the loss of himself. 

You watched intensely as the two exchanged a farewell embrace, and you had to shake yourself out of paying so much attention to a stranger’s face.

Jisung looked lovely, but more than that, there was a magnetic tug at your muscles whenever you looked at him. It was an unexplainable pull, a gravitational pull seemingly moving your body toward him. Something akin to what you believed seeing your soulmate would feel like.

You laughed to yourself. If you were going to find your soulmate, it wouldn’t be in random places like a hospital or a pedestrian road before a high school. 

Seungmin watched Jisung leave before he turned to you. You teared up When you met eyes in a quiet corner of your own world. You fanned your face in hopes of stopping yourself from crying, but the more you thought about why you were feeling the urge to do so in the first place, the more your eyes urged you to open the floodgates.

Seungmin picked under his nails, a lingering pain in his chest from knowing what happened after you sent him away, and he took a step forward to trap you in a tight embrace.

“Seungmin, I killed someone,” you said, your voice muffled by his shoulder.

“Okay,” he replied, holding a warm hand to your neck. “Don’t think about it if you don’t want to. We can always talk about it later.”

You sniffed, nodding into his shoulder. You didn’t think you could delay talking about what happened for however long you wanted, but there should be a grace period between now and when the council found that one of their members had been killed.

Although, you did want to ask about your state when you were admitted to the hospital. It still didn’t make sense to you that you were left unscathed. But, between now and then, you wanted to heed Seungmin’s advice and not think about anything. Drowning in the safety net of your best friend’s arms was all you wanted to do. 

“[Name]! [Name]!”

Seungmin glared off at the other end of the hallway as he pulled away from you. Felix was running toward you both, his sneakers creating an even louder commotion than his voice. He was forced to a begrudging stop when a nurse stopped him with a scold. When you squinted, you could see him gripping your phone.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry. I didn’t–I didn’t mean to take the call for you, but your phone was buzzing nonstop!” Felix said between huffs of breaths as he handed you the phone. It was still on call. “But you’ve got great news! Your uncle is awake!”

You pressed the phone to your ear.

“Your friend already broke the news to you, so I’m kind of useless here.” 

“Good to hear from you too, Minho,” you said softly.

“Oh, you’ll be even happier to hear from this guy.” There was shuffling on the other end of the phone. A static noise traveled when someone picked it up again, and the voice that sounded was one that surprisingly hadn’t changed much.

“Hey, kiddo,” Chan greeted quietly as if testing the waters. 

“Uncle Chan…” you muttered, surprised and relieved, but then a sudden dread fell over you.

It has taken ages to break the curse that kept Chan in a coma. The only known way to wake him was by breaking the soulmate string, which Minho once said he would do. But Minho sounded cheery just then, meaning he hadn’t done anything as drastic as that, which would mean the curse broke through other means. You thought you knew how.

“Oh, I think I know why you woke up.”

“You do? I just thought it was a miracle.”

“It’s not–it’s… umm.” You pressed a hand to the speaker and looked urgently at your friends, who seemed equally clueless. “Uncle, there’s a lot we need to catch up on.” 

As you unconsciously moved away to continue the conversation, hashing out plans to return to meet him, Felix elbowed Seungmin to get his attention. 

“Hey,” Felix started, “I don’t mean to alarm you, but I think [Name] doesn’t remember Jisung.”

Seungmin puffed out his cheeks and sighed. “Yeah… we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

“Wait, wait, wait–“ Hyunjin waved his hands before his face–“wait!”

He had been a little concerned when you did not return with anybody to his room, but the solemn expression on Jisung's face and the somewhat heartbroken frown on Felix's mouth made him shut his mouth.

Seungmin had trailed behind the two, watching Felix keep his hand over Jisung's as they approached the single chair in the room. He had leaned against the shut door to try and prevent anyone from disrupting the conversation they were about to have: Jisung breaking his soulmate tie with you. 

Hyunjin was having a more challenging time catching up than Felix, mainly because he never indulged in anything about soulmates. Even after learning from one of Felix's many romantic rambles that soulmates exist, he never thinks about it again. He was never a romantic at heart, he supposed.

But questioning why Jisung was so heartbroken over the fact that you and he were no longer linked by fate was not something he did as he got filled in on what happened. He was more worried about the state of Jisung's and your well-being after enduring the physical altercation.

“You got stabbed?” 

“No, I got blown away, and I landed on glass. It–well, sure, I got stabbed,” Jisung said after rolling his eyes skyward to think. He could barely remember anything; his mind must have blanked it out to protect his feelings. 

“And [Name] almost died,” Hyunjin added for clarification. “Healing you?”

Jisung nodded, his lips pursing remorsefully. “Yes.”

Leaning against his pillow, Hyunjin exhaled slowly and focused his eyes on a single spot on the wall across him.

That councilman was one hell of a maniac—collapsing a whole convenience store on his head, blowing Jisung and you away with explosive magic, indirectly impaling Jisung and causing you to exert yourself so much that you almost died in Jisung’s arms.

He held back his thoughts while listening to the story, but he felt no guilt now celebrating the fact that you decapitated the councilman. He would give you a thumbs up and buy you a drink when he sees you again. 

Turning his head to look at Jisung, whose eyes focused more on his fiddling fingers than anything else, Hyunjin softened.

Those hands that erased himself from your memories must not have been fond to look at or own, but they were also the last of what touched you, so Jisung couldn't tear his eyes away from them either. His heart was yearning for pain, for the pain that was caused when he decided to cut the soul tie off because, at least back then, you were still in his arms, and you still remembered him. 

“How do you feel?” he asked.

Standing behind the defeated boy, Seungmin and Felix flashed him an exasperated stare as if he couldn't already tell by Jisung's hunchback and slugging around! Hyunjin shook his shoulders and returned the same gaze, not allowing mockery to be thrown his way before he could clarify what he realized was a valid question with terrible wording.

"I know you feel bad! That part is obvious! But it's just–" he sighed–"don't you think there is some leeway out of this?"

“Like a way to get [Name] to remember him?” Felix chimed in.

Hyunjin shook his head. “No, more like a silver lining. We are trying to look at this from the bright side.”

Seungmin scoffed, disagreeing. “It’s a bit tone-deaf to ask him to look on the bright side when it’s already happened, don’t you think?”

“It’s better than repeating that his soulmate forgot about him,” Hyunjin retorted before looking at Jisung, who sat stoically on the chair. He could see the faraway stare in Jisung’s eyes.

“Look, I know you can’t hear me right now. I can only hope your heart remembers what I say sometime down the line, but memory erasure aside–[Name] is still alive for a reason.”

The truth was that Jisung made a choice. He made a puke-inducing, heartbreaking choice. Between his bond with you and your existence, he chose you. He didn't pick himself. The soulmate bond would have meant nothing; your memories of him would have meant nothing if you died.

It was a choice only he could make for you, and he made it with your best interest at heart. Your being alive should mean something more than what he did, even if it couldn't now. 

“You can still know them,” Hyunjin said. “They can still fall in love with you.”

Jisung sighed. “Hyunjin, I’m really tired–“

“I’m sure you were too when you had to snap the soul string in half,” he argued. “You fought for them anyway.”

“I still don’t understand how it happened,” Seungmin chimed in at the mention of the soulmate string. “Memories don’t work like that.”

“Is this really the time to question how it works?” Felix asked.

"No, but think about it anyway. Take the car crash that happened, for example. Remember when we first met them, and we decided to hang out after school?" Seungmin said animatedly. He has been thinking about this for too long. He has got to let it out.

"They still remember the incident, but it happened in the first place because they protected Jisung from getting hit by a car. Then we found out they are a magic wielder, right?

"Who did they do that for if Jisung is out of the picture? How did we learn about their identity in that particular alleyway, in that specific situation? Jisung being snipped out of their memory will make their life nonsensical!"

Jisung heaved a sigh. He shrunk into his seat and rubbed his face with his hands. Unconsciously, his hands traveled to his ears, and he muffled everyone else's voices in the room.

He closed his eyes, remembering your face to calm himself. He didn't want to hear about his friends' theories and discrepancies regarding how the universe managed to wipe human memories with a snap of a string. Not only did he want to stop thinking too deeply about it, but he would also hate to be given false hope that you might remember him somehow. 

He saw you about an hour ago. He just saw you about an hour ago. You said nothing to him, talked away from him, and indirectly addressed him through Seungmin. You forgot who he was. There was no last stand of a miracle, a shining beacon of hope, or a benefit of the doubt. There was nothing left for Jisung except the daunting truth that he was gone from your life completely.

Everything he has done or said, every promise you have made to each other, every sense of touch you shared—gone, reduced to emptiness by his hands. 

Jisung loved you from the beginning until the end, and he was the only one who had to put an end to it.

The room went quiet when Jisung began to sob uncontrollably into his hands. The only time they had seen him cry like this was today, at the school’s backyard, when you left him in a frenzy, and he fell face-first against the floor. But somehow, it sounded strikingly different. 

The last one was apologetic, with sadness and longing haphazardly screamed into a bottle about to be lost at sea. The last time Jisung cried like this, he dragged himself through the mud to appeal to a higher power for forgiveness.

This one was different. This one was angry, mad, and screaming at a Godless void where God exists but chooses not to listen. Jisung was giving up this time, and he was so unbelievably angry at the hand he was dealt that he slit his own throat with a hoarse voice and streamy tears. 

Felix had to take a few steps away from Jisung's chair. He watched as Jisung swallowed himself whole, practically scratching his face off, and he could do nothing.

This was not the time for comfort. If anything, Felix had no idea if a soft hand on the shoulder would come across as anything other than pity and a poor attempt to get Jisung to stop screaming down the hospital hall. He walked away and approached Seungmin, reaching for the boy’s hand to hold and letting his tears fall silently as he stared at the floor. 

Jisung was so fond of you, and Felix felt you were the same way. You two were soulmates. He still remembered the joyful laughter that reverberated in his ribs when you told him about it, not just because you proved to him that soulmates are real but because he was grateful his friend found one he would love for the rest of his life.

You were both so fond of each other, and with a simple snap, everything was gone, and Felix vicariously lost his hope in romance. 

Seungmin squeezed Felix's hand, causing him to look up. The grim expression on Seungmin's face made Felix realize one thing: this would take a while. The healing could take a bit, perhaps even forever, because Jisung loved you. 

Jisung loved you, from the beginning until the end, and he would continue with no exception or mistake. If there was no place for him to give you his love now, the least he could do was store them where they belong—in his chest, heart, eyes, tears, hands, touch, and always in him. 

Looking away, Felix met eyes with Hyunjin from his bed. Hyunjin pursed his lips together and gently leaned into the bed for support.

This would take a while.

You startled Chan and Minho when you teleported straight into the hospital room. 

It was, unfortunately, a force of habit. You spent most of your visits to Chan, which wasn’t many, but he didn’t need to know that, in the form of sneaking in and out of the hospital and the city. Being extra cautious that you wouldn’t leave any magical traces behind made most of your visits brief.

Not that there was much for you to do back then anyway; Chan was in a coma, and you were talking to a sleeping log. Supposedly, now that he was awake, you would no longer be in the vulnerable position you once were, and you should be able to walk the city freely. But, again, habitually, you have chosen to do a quick teleportation spell unannounced. 

You raised a brow at how Minho immediately retreated his hand from Chan’s. He jumped to stand away from the edge of the bed, looking nervous before he recognized you. Then he scoffed. You ignored him. “Was I interrupting something?” 

“No.”

“A little bit, yeah.” 

“You didn’t interrupt anything. Don’t listen to him,” Minho reassured with a glare directed at Chan’s boastful smile. He turned to approach you.

Having deduced what happened after receiving information from his parents on the implication of Chan’s awakening, there was much he needed you to fill him in on, but mostly, he wanted to know if you were feeling fine. When he was within reach, he pulled you into an embrace. “How are you doing?” 

You gasped inwardly. You hadn’t anticipated this reaction from Minho, and it took you a moment to feel his solid chest. His arms were grown and confident with strength, unlike Seungmin’s, which were frail and comforting.

With Seungmin, hugging him was like standing on common ground. Hugging Minho was being embraced and shielded by someone who knew more and better than you. They both felt safe, but for once, it was relieving to have an adult around to think for you. 

“I’m fine. My friends are all fine, too,” you replied. 

“Your friends were involved?” 

“They’re all human, right?”

Minho released you to face Chan. “Technically, we all are.”

“You know what I mean,” Chan retorted before fixating his eyes on you. “Were your friends involved in what happened?”

You fiddled with your fingers. You wanted to be able to greet your uncle in a much lighter circumstance, but the timing was unfortunate. “They were,” you said. “But they already know I can use magic! They won’t say anything.”

“It’s more complicated than that. A councilman died–got murdered if we want to be specific.” Minho hummed as he shook his head. “You did it. That was you?”

You shrugged, feeling accused. “Yeah.”

Minho nodded with acknowledgment. There was no other display of emotions. But if he could, he would have been thankful that you killed the old man because that directly woke Chan up. His death broke the coma curse; it was his idiotic mistake for linking it directly to himself and not a vessel.

“This is going to be investigated unless we intervene, and one little slip-up from any of your friends who saw what happened–“

“Nobody saw! I sent them all away to the hospital!” you exclaimed as you waved your hands.

“Hyunjin was injured after a convenience store collapsed on us, so I sent him and everyone to the hospital! Nobody saw anything. Felix didn’t see anything. I told Seungmin I–“ you dropped your voice to a whisper–“killed someone, but he wasn’t there to see it happen.”

Minho nodded. “And Jisung?” 

You look at him incredulously. You didn’t think Minho might have been talking about the same boy you saw at the hospital, but everyone had asked about him.

“Why is everyone asking me about him?” you asked grimly. “I don’t know him.”

“What are you talking about?”

Chan watched as Minho’s face gradually descended into a mixture of confusion and, increasingly so, pitiful despair. He shifted his gaze between you and him, unclear why Minho had such a severe reaction.

Following closely as Minho swiped two fingers across his neck, revealing a burning hieroglyphic mark once concealed, he moved his head about to keep his view from being blocked by Minho’s back after the man grabbed your hand in his. 

“What?” you tried to snatch your hand away, but Minho kept a firm grip. “Minho, I don’t know who Jisung is. I met him for the first time today!”

He should have been more suspicious of what happened since he knew nothing. There were a million possibilities of how the councilman could have died, many of which did not involve you using magic that could hurt you, but also a lot where you would have to. He should have questioned how you could arrive unscathed; there was no injury on your body.

You could have healed yourself, but that potential was eliminated when you told him you didn’t know who Jisung was. The boy you almost fought him for, your soulmate, your lover—gone in a trace.

Chan raised his brows in realization when Minho discreetly pinched your pinky finger. The red string was gone. Your soulmate must have broken it. Judging by the event that preceded it and how Minho reacted to it, your soulmate had broken it unwillingly.

Chan’s shoulders slumped. He knew the implications of severing a soulmate string. But, seeing your clueless face, he was glad that the one suffering from its impact wasn’t you but a boy he’d never met before. 

“Oh, [Name]…” Minho dropped your arm and sat beside Chan on the bed. He chuckled then, recalling the meek-looking boy pushing himself to your defense the first time they met. “Well, I’m not surprised he has the guts to do it.”

“Oh? He’s that kind of boy?” Chan muttered.

“I don’t know. I didn’t meet him for long.” Minho shook his head before turning to smile at Chan. “But I know he overestimates his abilities to stand up for [Name].”

“Or he knows he’s not qualified. He just doesn’t care.” Chan hummed with approval. “I like him either way.”

You crossed your arms at their whispered conversation. You made a quick trip here to catch up with Chan and discuss what to do now that he has woken up. If he and Minho wanted to have alone time together, they should have arranged for you to show up later, and you could have stayed with your friends longer. But, despite your impatience, it was touching to see them happy. 

“You know, I can’t wait to have health insurance again,” you pointed out as a joke. “Not that I cared for it when I did have it.”

Chan laughed as he broke away from Minho, who rolled his eyes at the reminder of all the legal errands he would have to run with Chan after his full recovery.

Scooting back on the bed, Chan beckoned you over to him and opened his arms as an invitation for a hug. You moved without another thought, but your face remained hesitant until you touched him with your hands. He patted your head twice for comfort you wouldn’t know you needed.

“I’m sorry you’ve been alone all these years,” he said.

“I met good people,” you said as you shook your head to dismiss his apology. “I have friends who would fight for me.” 

Even though you haven’t met them for long, the life they have given you thus far has somewhat overshadowed the terrifically lonely experience you’ve suffered.

Time fast-forwarded in the mending of your heart; Hyunjin and his motherly instincts, Felix and his soft-hearted nature, Seungmin and his covert loyalty, and—your hands twitched when Jisung’s face flashed over your eyes, specifically the way he had looked at you when you met him a while ago.

You hummed, wondering how Seungmin had never introduced him to you before, considering he has no other friends.

Or maybe he has. He just never told you. 

“You should bring them over sometimes,” Chan suggested as he pulled away. “It would be nice to give them a proper thanks.”

You grimaced judgementally as you stared at him. You didn’t think it was necessary. Besides, you have talked about Chan to your friends in such an urgent way (for good reasons) that you felt they would be disappointed seeing what Chan was actually like. Feeling subconscious, Chan returned the same expression but with more vigor.

Not even a day had passed since he woke up from a coma. He was still delirious, but he held his mind to greet you anyway, and this was what you give him—teenage attitude. He rolled his eyes into a faint smile after. This was better than a pitch-black doom, at least. 

“What do we do now?” you asked.

“You–“ Minho touched your shoulder–“don’t have to do anything. The legal things are up to him now. You just worry about catching up on your education.”

The thought of school haunted you. It has been years since you last stepped foot in an educational setting to learn something new.

You have been operating on some foundation of an adult—occupying yourself with jobs and earning money to fill your stomach—and you have trauma relating to being forcefully chained down, so you weren’t sure if you could adequately cope with being restricted by another systematic authority. Not to mention, people knew who you were! They knew your face and your family! 

The only way for your school life to be peaceful is—

“I’m not going to school here.”

—to go somewhere where nobody knows you. 

“I thought you might say that,” Minho pointed out as he slumped on the edge of the hospital bed. He shrugged, ready for a bargain. “You can attend the school your friends are attending–yeah, I know what you’re thinking about.” He squinted at you. “But unless you test into their current grade level, you won’t be graduating at the same time as them.”

“I’m being held back?” You would never hear the end of this from Hyunjin. 

“No, you’re starting alarmingly late,” he said. “You can choose. We can give you some time to prepare for the grade assessment, or we can do what I initially planned–“

“I’m not going to school here.”

“I was planning to get you homeschooled.” Minho got up to flick your forehead. “You can work at your or the teacher’s pace–I know someone who could help. That way, school won’t keep you from seeing your friends.”

Chan tilted his head. That sounded like a solid plan he had no part in concocting, but if Minho thought it was a viable idea, he wouldn’t chime in and possibly make things worse. Looking at his soulmate, he gradually relaxed into the bed as he watched you chat with Minho about future plans.

A soft sigh left his chest; he hoped Minho wouldn’t overwork himself to accommodate your needs. You deserved a regular life from now on, but with the staining guilt that he hasn’t been of any help in the past, Minho might overexert himself to make everything perfect from today on. 

“Oh, can I get some strings to teleport back?” 

Minho looked at the empty cardboard in your hand. He shrugged. “Sure, you can buy them at the store like everybody else,” he said. “I know you have money.”

“My family owns these strings,” you sneered, then you pulled back in shock at the realization that the family business was still running. 

“Your family, not you. There’s a pharmacy downstairs. They should sell some,” he retorted with a grin. “Remember, your friends are probably in school right now. Also, don’t spawn in the middle of a hospital!”

Chan laughed when you bluffed a punching motion at Minho, who stood stoically on his spot. When you slammed the door behind you, Minho held back a scoff of disapproval and rolled his eyes. He turned around to give Chan a tight-lipped smile as he stumbled to the bed and, once again, plopped down on the edge. He could sit on it more comfortably now that you were gone, his back arched as he met eyes with Chan.

“You know I almost snapped our string to save you,” Minho mentioned.

Chan raised his brows. “I’m surprised you didn’t.”

“[Name] talked me out of it,” Minho replied softly.

There was a moment of silence. Minho thought about you promising him before that Chan would wake up and when you urged him not to break his soulmate string to save him. He felt he should have been there for you when yours had to meet a tragic fate. He stared at the ceiling light.

For some reason, he wondered how Jisung was holding up. 

Jisung almost kicked the school gate for his frustration, but he was too tired to do so.

This day has been the worst. There could not be even more little tragedies hidden between everything that happened. He thought he had some choice in that. All he needed to do was to stop caring, and he could begin attending school. He was already halfway there, anyway. 

After returning home from the hospital to give his parents a thorough explanation of why he never returned home, he barely dragged himself out the door to go to school again. He kept his hair disheveled, and his breath probably stinks of the traumatic near-death situation.

Standing at the back of the bus line, he rubbed his eyes drowsily and didn't try to open them any bigger than his defeated state. He stood before the closed gate, indicating he was late to school. He stared up at the climbable pattern and sighed. He could not be bothered. He would rather die.

“Hey! Do you need a hand?”

Your voice rang terribly in his ears. He thought he was hallucinating but instinctively turned his head to where your voice came from anyway. You stood a few steps behind him, grimly glancing at his messy uniform. Jisung's heart hammered in his chest, its palpitations so grandiose he could feel his whole body shake.

This felt familiar, hauntingly familiar.

The sun's rays slowly began to drown atop your face, like he remembered. They left spots of faux freckles on your cheeks, brightening the judgemental soul in your eyes, like he remembered. The wind glided across you two, artificially knocking the breath out of Jisung's lungs, like he remembered. 

You were pretty as could be, like he remembered. 

“Oh, Jisung! Seungmin’s friend, who he never told me about,” you exclaimed in recognition, with the last part muttered low for self-satisfaction. Then, you looked behind him at the school gate and frowned. “Are you late?” 

"I–" he looked behind him at the gate, then back at you– "Yeah, I was gonna climb it."

“Oh, yeah, I’ve seen a boy do that before,” you huffed out a smile of acknowledgment. Clapping your hands, you offered, “I can help you.” 

He stood baffled, still hung up on what you said because he thought, just for a split second, you may be subconsciously talking about him. Bringing his crooked hand to his face, he waved with a half-hearted smile. “It’s okay. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble! I got you,” you insisted as you walked forward. “Turn around.”

Jisung widened his eyes. You seemed more cheerful than when he first met you. Perhaps it was because your uncle was finally awake. That was good news to him. “It’s fine, really.”

“I am going to hoist you up, and you are going to climb over the fence, okay?” you said, linking and twisting the red string in your hands that you had shoved in your pocket after you bought them at the hospital pharmacy.

Jisung shook his head at your blatant ignorance. You let him go the first time! He had to double back and ask for your help as you left!

This was beginning to turn from feeling nostalgic to uncanny. He would tell you to keep watch of your strength, but he wanted to know if you would throw him way over the fence like last time. He turned around and let you put your hands over his waist, feeling you close to his back. He hovered his hands over yours; he couldn’t hold it, not even for support. 

“On three!” You gave his waist a firmer grip once as a signal to prepare before you moved your legs into a better stance. “One, two, three!”

You moved your arms up while Jisung jumped to aid your action. Jisung groaned when his body lunged forward over the gate, weightless and lacing any clear momentum. He braced himself before falling onto the dusty floor.

It was as he expected. He rolled his eyes once the pain began spreading over his muscles—uncanny but hilarious that you made the same mistake twice. 

Leaning forward, you gave Jisung a concerned scan before shouting, “I’m sorry! I miscalculated!”

“Grossly!” he called back as he stood up and wiped his uniform of its dirt. 

You kept silent as you observed him, your hands gripping the gate poles. When his attention returned to you, you smiled apologetically. He received your smile with a brief glance at the floor, trying to hold back the souring sensation in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” you faintly beamed. “Can you tell Seungmin to wait for me after school? I have something important to tell him!”

Jisung raised his brows. He wondered what it was? Seungmin already knew your uncle was awake, which would eliminate that as important news.

Plans for the future? He looked at you, his fingers playing with each other. He wanted to know, too. He wanted to know if you've got a home and someone who could care for you better than he ever could. He wanted to meet your uncle and see the man you've put effort into saving. He wanted to know where you'd be going, even if it didn't concern him anymore. 

There were so many things to know about you. The idea made him remember what Hyunjin said at the hospital—that he could still get to know you and make you fall in love with him.

He didn’t want to hear it back then, but accessing the situation now, it was clear that this was precisely the beginning of when you two first met each other: him being late to school and you helping him over the gate. Maybe everything would be the same. All he had to do was start over.

“Actually,” he started hesitantly, still unsure why he thought to say this. He only knew that he wanted to know and love you still. “We’re planning to go to a cat café later. Do you want to come with me?”

You paused—the cat café! You almost forgot about that. Felix was the one who suggested the place a while back, but you guys never made it there! Then there was Minho’s unannounced appearance before you stopped talking to everyone for a few months! You tilted your head and squinted your eyes. You forgot why you stopped talking to everyone, though. The more you thought about it, the more things were not adding up. You have meant to chat with Seungmin about it, preferably without any stranger’s presence.

“I don’t think I–“ You licked your lower lip at the ringing in your ear when you watched Jisung. Something about his face continued to infatuate you. You felt like you loved him a little. “You know what? Sure, let’s hang out.”

“Okay.” He smiled as he reached his hand over the gate. “My name is Han Jisung. What about you?”

“My name is [Name].” You giggled, reaching out to shake his hand, only to feel a light electrocution at your arm. 

You snatched your hand away from his with a surprised yelp. When you looked down at its source, your red string glowed.

[incomingalbatross]

Top 5 favorite AUs?

A good question! (I'm going to assume "types of AU" here - apologies if you were looking for specific AUs, but this was what came to mind first.)

In no particular order:

Platonic soulmark AUs. I am obligated to include this given that I've written multiple in different fandoms. :P I love taking characters who are Significant to each other and throwing a big red flag at them, in-universe, and getting to play with how they process that once it's been foregrounded. Also love the freedom and room for variety under the umbrella of "soulmate marks."

Reincarnation AUs. This one is funny because the actual concept of reincarnation offends me on a deep theological and metaphysical level, to the extent that I often have to rationalize it a bit within my own plot bunnies. And yet I love it. Love the idea of people starting all over, having new lives, but finding each other and starting where they left off - of getting to start where they wished they could have last time. I'm a sucker for it.

Fix-it AUs. Extremely basic, yes, but they're like candy. I also love watching the variety, in fandoms where there are one or two Bad Things everyone's sad about - they range all the way from "here's one thing I changed to give them a slim window toward a better path, and they are going to forge their way through with blood sweat and tears" to "what if this particular person had just... been less stupid" to "everything goes suspiciously easy for them but we all know this is wish-fulfillment so sh" to "and the bad guy tripped and broke his neck on the way to committing crimes THE END."

Negaverse AUs. All right, this one does have a specific fandom name, because Darkwing Duck did the "mirror universe where everybody's moralities are swapped" my favorite. It's hard for me to find a morality-swap/mirrorverse AU I actually like to read, somehow, but they are delightfully fun to brainstorm. (The key for me is A) letting your new villains maintain some core of their canon self while now being garbage in very distinctive ways and B) leaning just as hard into creating new heroes who you can love and root for.)

Peggy Sue/time-travel AUs. By this I mean specifically the "character gets sent back into their past body, with all their future memories," and... I have a complicated relationship with this one, honestly. I will often revolve AUs of this type in my head, but they almost always end up breaking down under their own weight. I want to give characters second chances but I can't accept the losses involved for them in going back alone, so I keep expanding the time-travel cast list until it gets ludicrous. And like, when I'm so unwilling to give up their present, it makes it hard for me to stay committed to wanting a new past for them. ...But even so, it takes up enough space in my brain that it goes on the list. ;P

Thank you for giving me a reason to ramble about my AU thoughts! :)

[sissytobitch10seconds]

Cup, Crow, Rose

Fandom: Grishaverse: Six of Crows and Shadow and Bone Summary: Soulmarks are complicated. Nina's life is already so complicated that she doesn't want to seek them out. Like her teachers always warned, though, her soulmates seem determined to find her one way or another. Warnings: Canon-typical trauma and soulmates Word Count: 2,648 Ship(s): Nina Zenik/Matthias Helvar/Inej Ghafa/Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck/Kaz Brekker

Archive link!

A/N: Is anyone really surprised that I chose to go with polycrows for the free day? I love them so much, lol. I also had a lot of fun exploring the soulmate AU that I wanted to do for this, so I hope that you guys also enjoy it! One day I might expand this into something bigger but I kind of like having it as a character study type thing. Stay sissy and bitchy everyone &lt;3

Each soulmark was different. A pair or group of soulmates would have a throughline that placed them together so that they could find each other, with varying levels of intricacy, but the soulmarks would all be different. For a pair of soulmates, the mark would be the same except for one thing that would represent the other person. For a group of soulmates, the mark would be different for each person that they were to meet so that it went in a sort of circle. Group soulmates were complicated and very rarely did the entire group actually find itself.

Nina had grown up seeing the soulmarks of the people around her, presented proudly once they had found and married each other. Her older sister figure Zoya’s was a mix of leather wings pocked with scales that shimmered iridescent when displayed in the light correctly, conversely swapped on the back of her soulmate. Her other friend Genya had a book with ancient writing and a vile of dark red liquid on the back of her hand, a perfect match with her own soulmate. Nina had even been exposed to a queerplatonic soulmate marking too, a Inferni named Harshaw that had a cat made out of fire wrapping around his neck and collarbone before it met with a sunburst across his chest. She didn’t know the man’s soulmate so hadn’t seen how it had changed towards the other person, nor had she ever actually gotten a good look at a group of soulmates with marks like what hers appeared to be.

Nina’s mark was a crow grasping for the last little bit of liquid in a wine glass, the beak and head warped with the shape of it. In addition to that was a single knife that touched the bottom of the glass. It tilted towards the crow but did not slice, like the bird was somehow performing a trick while trying to get its drink. She had learned how to hide it under the layers of her sleeves when she was out and how to cloak her skin over the top of it so that it was obscured when she had to undress in front of someone. For a spy such as herself, it was very dangerous for people to be able to identify her by her soulmark. 

The first time that Nina saw one of her soulmarks, she was trapped in the belly of a slaver ship. She had her hands chained above her and could barely keep her eyes open because of the water seeping through the slats above her. It was dark and she was shivering with the force of the cold around her, so it was hard to make out. The mark had stood out starkly even amongst the heavy furs and wool that the Druskelle was wearing, black lines evident on his pale white skin. The crow drinking from a nearly empty cup appeared to be the throughline of their soulmark group because they were identical on the man in front of her as they had been on her own skin before she had hid it. The only difference was that the liquid at the base of the cup was holding a single rose that was weeping petals down onto the bird.

She of course hadn’t acted on it. There was no way that he would be able to see her own mark and know that they shared the same throughline. She had no idea what the Fjerdan stance on soulmate groups was, it was one of their closest held secrets because those types were so rare. She didn’t know what he would do if he found out that part of his group was a Grisha either. Nina doubted that he would have killed her in that moment because he was so adamant about the idea of her getting her trail for her crimes when she finally arrived in his homeland.

There were many chances for her to reveal her soulmark to him when they had wrecked the ship and washed up on those rocky shores, yet she used what little of her energy that she had left to keep it covered. She wasn’t sure what she could trust him yet when he was still spouting the ideas of the people that he had trained with like if he didn’t then he would cease to be. He wasn’t safe because she was the witch that the hunter was doomed to kill, even if she was falling more and more in love with him by the day.

The next soulmark that she saw didn’t belong to her, but she was sure that the one on her arm belonged to the girl. She had just been through a whirlwind that left her feeling as though she was going to die. She and Matthias had traveled together like they were not sworn enemies over miles and miles of land until they had arrived at a port where she had found some of her people. In a move that she came to regret almost immediately after seeing the way that he looked at her, Nina lied and said that he was a slaver so that he wouldn’t be taken back to the Darkling’s court to be sentenced and killed as a witch hunter. She had tried to retract her statement when she got back, but she was simply given enough money to buy passage back to Ravka. She knew that she couldn’t do that, not when the only soulmate that she might ever know, the one that held her mark, was locked in a jail that she had made for him.

She had been approached by a man that offered her a job. She was promised that she wouldn’t have to work on her back, but rather putting on a show of her powers to anyone that came requesting it. She had said that she would think about it and then buried herself away in the covers of the room that they had lent to her. A young Suli girl broke into her window almost immediately after she was left alone, and it only took a couple of seconds for Nina to see the mark on her own arm.

It was the same crow reaching into the wine glass for the remnant of liquid. The changed element for her was the end of a cane that was pushing the cup closer to the crow, though it was only a few inches and thus not very identifying. Nina had seen it and then stood in the same spot, like the Saints had turned her to stone as she took in the appearance of the other girl. She had long black hair that was tightly pleated into a braid that hung over one of her shoulders. Her skin was bronzed and smooth, though her eyes were so dark that it made her entire face disappear as soon as Nina’s gaze locked with them.

She was offered a place in the Dregs and a job through the White Rose, protection under Kaz Brekker’s name. Inej was the girl, apparently, and she had explained that there was no true safety in the Barrel but there was a fear associated with the name of that man. 

Nina and Inej began a relationship only a week after they had found out that they were soulmates. She hadn’t been sure that anything would actually come of the discovery of another one of her soulmates since so little had happened with Matthias. She knew that meeting a criminal offering her a job was different than being kidnapped by a man trained to kill her, but it had still set a precedent in her mind that was rather difficult to overcome. Inej was more than happy to begin to get to know her and after only a month of dates spent under the moonlight on the rooftops of Ketterdam, they held hands and agreed to pursue a relationship.

Only two months after she had decided to work with the Dregs, Nina met Jesper. She immediately knew that she liked him and that the two of them would become very close friends. He was already close with Inej, though the girl refused to tell Nina how and why. Nina knew that there was something dark in Inej’s past that meant that she was very secretive about things that she felt were personal, including interpersonal relationships. Jesper hadn’t been offended by the relationship that had cropped up between the two girls, in fact he seemed amused out of his mind about it.

His soulmark was revealed to her after a month of her trying to find out by various means of subterfuge. Eventually she had gotten so frustrated about being left out of the loop that she had walked into his room and then slammed and locked the door behind her so that he didn’t have the chance to run. He pulled up his sleeve to reveal the crow reaching into the cup, though his had a delicate pen that had spilled the ink inside. The throughline had confirmed that they were soulmates, though it meant that there was another person out there somewhere for their group.

Jesper and Nina started dating much faster than she and Inej had. It was easier for them to strike up something romantic, and then later sexual, because Jesper didn’t have Inej’s trauma and had already been getting to know Nina throughout their friendship with the intent of eventually dating her.

Her life had only just begun to feel like it was leveling out when she met another member of their relationship. Wylan was a young boy that Kaz brought on to be their demolitions man whenever they had need of explosions. He and Nina didn’t tend to run in the same circles in the Dregs, which meant that she knew of him in name only. After his second mission with the gang, Jesper had broken into her room in the White Rose only moments after her latest client had left to tell her about Wylan’s soulmark. According to Jesper, it was the same cup and crow but with the paws of a wolf standing on either side of the crow. 

Nina had felt like her entire life was shattering at that. She had been thinking about the circle that they made and how many people could be missing but it was becoming increasingly difficult. Matthias was for her, she was for Inej, Jesper was now for Wylan, Wylan was for Matthias, but Inej’s mark didn’t land with any of them and Jesper was still missing someone for him. That meant that there was at least one more person that they needed to add before they could truly feel complete.

She only found that person after she had finished collecting the others. She, Inej, and Jesper, had started up a relationship with Wylan not long after finding out where he was living after they discovered his soulmark. The four of them found one of the biggest rooms in the Slat and then decided that they were going to keep it as their own so that they could live in the happiness and safety of their soulmates. Wylan wasn’t attracted to Inej or Nina, so they eventually discovered that he was meant to be their queerplatonic soulmate.

It was difficult and there were quite a few bumps in the road as they figured out how to navigate being soulmates while also being criminals, but they were all stubborn enough to make it work. Secrets were spilled, trauma was revealed, and love was confessed. They found out that Inej had been taken and forced to work in the Menagerie, that Jesper was zowa, that Wylan couldn’t read and who his real parents were. It could have very easily driven them apart but instead it only served to weave them into an intricate, loving mess with each other.

Yet, despite everything that her lovers had shared with her, she was unable to tell them anything about one of the missing members of their circle. The night before the beginning of the Ice Court, though, it had all piled out of her. She admitted what she had been before she came to Kerch and then how she had met Matthias. She told them about the way that he laughed, how he ate his reindeer meat only after soaking it in water because chewing made his jaw hurt, how he snored in his sleep, and how he was the sweetest man she had ever met when not trying to kill her.

They rescued him and then the others had forgiven her for keeping him a secret. She nursed the bruises on her neck while crying into Jesper’s lap while Wylan held her spare hand. It was hard to know that her soulmate didn’t want her, that he was unwilling to give up the way that he had been raised for the two people in his group that he had been taught to hate when they would bring him only joy.

Then the Ice Court had happened and he was deprogramed after seeing the way that they all cared for each other. They didn’t have time to talk about it after she had taken the jurda parem so that she could save them on the dock, but she knew that he loved her again. 

They had spent a lot of the journey nursing Nina back to health and talking about the little house in the country that they could get. Inej had spoken about a boat that she wanted to get so that she could hunt slavers, and Matthias had seem keen on joining her so that he could put his skills to good use. Nina knew that Wylan wasn’t suited for that kind of work and would prefer to make art in the comfort of his own home, so she was okay with staying with him during her long recovery before she joined the others.

They came back to their city and found out that none of the money was waiting for them. They lost one of their soulmates and were stuck with the captive that they had just stolen from the most prestigious prison in the entire world. Kaz planned and schemed and they followed after him like they always did. Eventually, they got Inej back and things kept rolling. They were able to create a convoluted but thorough plan to take Jan Van Eck and Pekka Rollins, the two men hunting them, down.

Finally, everything was over. They were able to get Wylan’s mother back from the countryside to the home that she had chosen and where she belonged. Alys was sent up to a boathouse where she could live with her real soulmate and birds in peace. They all needed a good deal of time to recover, so they moved in the Van Eck mansion since it had plenty of room for them to grow and expand.

Kaz came to their door on a very rainy evening almost a month after all of their problems had seemingly been solved. Nina had been the one to check the door, so she welcomed him as their friend and invited him to come and dine with them. Her other soulmates were seated on the floor in the living room while they ate something that Inej had made. They were all very excited to see Kaz but they stayed quiet because it was clear that he was bursting with some kind of information.

Just like that, Kaz had rolled up his sleeve to reveal a crow reaching for the liquid in the bottom of a wine glass, the stem of which had been shattered by a bullet that was resting next to the completely unharmed crow. He was the last link of their circle and they finally had him.

[starwalker03]

imagine if you'd mixed a soulmate AU into WMLP. Who would be soulmates? What kind of soulmate au would fuck with the characters the most?

oh boyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. soulmate AUs are so fun to mess with, because you can change the parameters for what a soul mate is. like are they destined lovers? are they the perfect pair? or are they simply two people who are always going to meet, be drawn together, are cursed to share their stories, regardless of feelings?

what I'm saying is: WMLP with Dick and Slade as soul mates.

oh my god that would fuck Dick up SO BAD.

especially if he didn't find out until Slade was running a sword through his chest. and it would make his struggle to fight back against Slade's manipulation so much harder. His complicated feelings as he mourns Slade and yet despises him? dialed up to the max. it's so juicy.

Additionally: When Bee forces M'Gaan's mind open, it overwrites her own soulmate and essentially makes Bee her soulmate in M'Gaan's mind. like any association with her real soul mate is wiped away and redirected to Bee, so even though they're not soul mates her brain still reacts to Bee that way.

you know there was a short while when I started writing this fic when I considered doing aquabird (Dick and Kal) instead of birdflash. purely because when I started writing this fic is when I fell into aquabird shipping lmao. it would be interesting if they were soul mates in this fic, though, as the leader of the team and the assumed future leader of the team. like a captain and right hand man. Kaldur's horror and grief would be so much worse, hearing Dick was killed under his leadership, if they were soul mates. i mean that can be said of the entire team, but especially if it were Dick. Dick is the youngest, so Kaldur probably wouldn't pursue anything romantically (at least not until they're both older) so he'd have to live with the fact that he never got to have a relationship with his soul mate. then on top of that, his failure leads to one of the best child heroes, assumed to be a future leader, to fall into a new role as an assassin. Kaldur would feel responsible for ruining his potential.

There is, of course, the other possibility: one of the manta soldiers being Kaldur's soul mate. I have had some thoughts on Kaldur's relationships with the soldiers and whether any of them go beyond friendship (I actually started touching on it in the chapter I'm currently writing lmao) so imagining the added piece of them as a soul mate? delicious. held captive by them, the power dynamics, the inherent toxicity? nom nom. the fact they'd have to hide it from everyone? so good. and the soldier wouldn't be able to do anything without looking like they're trying to sleep their way to the top. and Kaldur can't do anything without the possibility of incurring his father's wrath upon an innocent soldier.

oh also if it was Zatanna, with what Kaldur has done to her... that's also a thought. both of them being the magic users of the team gives them a fun duality, and they both have daddy issues.

Conner and M'Gaan being soul mates would work i guess. I'm meh about it because I'm meh about them as a couple. the show really just... meh. and after season two it's like BRUH Conner LEAVE HER. but anyway. in this fic it would have that tragic lovers thing of being torn apart, watching your lover slowly degrade and knowing you can do nothing about it. meanwhile they watch as you are unchanged, and they hate you for it. mmmmmm. yeah. that'd make them interesting to me.

other than that, there is the possibility of Conner not having a soul mate, because he's a clone. or him having a pre-programmed soul mate which is whoever Clark's and Lex's soul mates are, which is disturbing and the worst and I should really write a fic of that. or someone should because the potential for all kinds of horrible nonsense is very compelling.

I haven't considered any kind of romantic subplot for Artemis to be honest. I mean, canon wise she only really has Wally. other than that there's the comics, where she was with icicle junior. i mean the joy of finding your soul mate, being with him for such a short time, and then the grief of losing him so soon would be interesting, I suppose, but no mor interesting than it already is for the two of them to have been together as normal. Artemis forcing herself to move on and falling out of love with Wally only for him to come back would be heartbreaking for her, especially if she couldn't find it in herself to regrow those old feelings and try again with everything going on in her life. especially because Wally probably wouldn't have had a chance to fall out of love while in the speed force. it is a bit depressing, but not very compelling to me.

I guess there's Roy. she could have some kind of strange platonic sibling-esque soul mate bond with him. it would have made her joining the team, so much more difficult, and then being forced on an opposite side to him only to chose to stay against him once free because your friends are more important. and then for her to hear Dick kicked him off a roof and almost killed him and see Dick be so blasé about it would be an interesting spin on things. but it's not interesting enough that, given the scenario of rewriting the fic with soul mates, I would add it in.

mmmmm these were some delicious thoughts thank you for giving them to me.

[dramatisperscnae]

SHIPPING INFO:// Answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog

REPOST. DON'T REBLOG

What’s your OTP for your Muse(s)?

Oh hell. Let me see if I can remember all of them Stucky, Wnterhawk, Frosthawk [which I have accepted will never happen but I can dream dammit], Loki/Sigyn [HE LOVES HIS WIFE], Jaydick[any flavor; platonic or romantic], Dick/Babs, Dick/Roy, Remy/Rogue, Hyuroi, Hughes/Gracia[this man loves his wife okay], and the others either don't have an OTP because I haven't found one I like or they're OCs whose partner is another OC and therefore kinda pointless to list here XD

What are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?

I'll try anything once. I'm a sucker for soulmate AUs, I'm great with deep platonic bonds -points at both Jaydick and Stucky-, gimme the romance, gimme FWB, just...-grabby hands- ship ALL THE THINGS Haven't ever really dabbled in toxic or hateships, but I would not be opposed to this with the right pairing and partner, either.

How large does the age gap have to be to make it uncomfortable?

This depends entirely on the relative ages involved, since I have two muses on here that are both over 2000 years old and at that point worrying about age gaps is really kinda pointless. That being said, I will not ship anything beyond purely romantic with muses below the age of 18 as a general rule, and that only because I have two muses with minor-aged verses [Dick and Conrad].

Are you selective when shipping?

To an extent; I ship chemistry above all, so there's no guarantee that - as an example - my Bucky is gonna be solidly romantically attracted to any given portrayal of Steve, or that I the writer am gonna click with the writer of any given Steve out there. Chemistry does not just mean chemistry of the characters; if our styles clash or we don't really mesh well then shipping's probably not gonna happen.

How far do steamy moments have to go before they’re considered NSFW? 

I tend to be very lenient here, but in general once the bits below the belt start getting named and/or there is full nudity I start tagging. Unless my partner starts tagging and/or readmore-ing first, in which case I follow my partner's lead and do the same.

Who are other muses you ship your muse with?

Oh lord. Okay. Arthur: Bruce ( @cxpedcrusxder ) Dick: Marcus ( @hacker-codeq ), Roy ( @thecreativeforge ), Clint ( @normaltothemax ), Jason ( @lazaruspitreborn , @messeduphood , potentially one or two others to be determined later) Kyle: None yet Loki: None yet Remy: Matt Murdock ( @defectivexfragmented ) Bucky: Clint ( @normaltothemax ) Corwin: None yet Clive: None yet Greyson: None yet Conrad: As my shameless self-insert I have a list I'd love to ship him with, but none have happened yet XD TJ: I used to ship him with Steve back in the day; currently none. Caspian: Michelle ( @misstisalir ); otherwise, none yet Hughes: None yet Judas: Gabriel ( @misstisalir ); otherwise, none yet Lucifer: also Gabriel XD [it's complicated] otherwise, none yet

Does one have to ask to ship with you?

Yes. Like I said earlier, even the 'obvious' ships [like Stucky] might not actually work out between us. Consent is always key. Also, it's more fun to let things develop naturally, that's how the best ships happen!

How often do you like to ship?

So long as there's chemistry, all the damn time

Are you multiship?

100% I have only ever considered limiting ships once and that was because the character involved had just been so built around his ship partner that playing him off anyone else was just weird. That is the exception to the rule here.

Are you ship obsessed or ship more-or-less?

-shrug?- Depends on what mood I'm in at the time and who happens to be loud and demanding XD

What is your favorite ship in your current fandom?

Uh. -looks at current DC obsession- do I have to just pick one? Probably Jaydick, but in all its permutations. It scratches that delightful Stucky itch of 'can be just very deeply platonic but also so goddamn romantic under the right circumstances' and I kinda love it. But also I've a softspot for Batcat when they're written right.

Finally, how does one ship with you?

Hop in my inbox and ask; it's a more reliable way to get in touch with me than messenger at first XD Chances are I already ship it to some degree, or will start shipping it if I haven't already thought of it and can see the potential -sideeyes his Aquabat ship with Fox as evidence >w>-

tagged by @defectivexfragmented tagging: You. With the face.

[zmediaoutlet]

with the constant vow, do you think john would've been able to cure dean? like if it had happened in stanford era, for instance

...man, that's a ponderer. (happy wincest wednesday -- idk if that's when you sent this but let's just go with it.) um -- do spoilers for the fic matter? Well, there'll be spoilers here, if anyone cares.

Let's just relocate the entire thing to Stanford Era, as you say. 2003, Dean's 24, him and John are still working together but the separation is beginning. Given the two-part nature of the curse and cure, I think...

Yes, John would be able to turn Dean back into a guy. He does care for Dean and love him and his love is... complicated, let's say that, haha. The fact that he would work is telling about the emotional incest of their whole situation. He's entangled with Dean in a way that Bobby, for example, isn't, even if he's not Dean's fuckoff actual soulmate. (One benefit of this scenario: they wouldn't try Bobby as a substitute. I can see John throwing a random stranger at Dean, but not Bobby. One horribly awkward bullet dodged!)

That said, the iterative nature of the curse would continue, much as it did for Sam and Dean, because the second part of it was that Dean had to believe it, and as long as it took him to really lock in to Sam, he never could with John. Not quite, not really, where it counted. We see a deep and true ambivalence about John in Dean, not just when he's older with the benefit of hindsight but all the way back then, as a kid. It comes up over and over: he loves John and also knows, deep, that John doesn't really have his best interests at heart; he knows that John loves him and he knows that John will treat him as a useful tool, to be cared for but discarded if need be. Even in his most devoted moments there's this almost hysterical pleading edge -- like if he just says it loud enough, maybe he can believe it's true. Not the kind of bone-deep certainty that the curse required to lift. He and John would never get to that dawn in the desert in Albuquerque, even with a month's worth of closeness and intimacy in the rearview.

The reason for that is, of course, my pigheadedness about characters' meta roles in the story. God can never reach a true sympathy with Michael or Lucifer. He necessarily has to be external, looking away, his plans always in motion. John always always always has to be most focused on the revenge for Mary or he's not John -- and what's the point, if he's not John?

That leaves us, though, with a fun AU, posited by fic!Sam at some point in one of the latter chapters but here the only option left: John and his two-part child, female most of the time and male when it'll be useful. You can see him fucking Dean into masculinity to be more useful in a fight or to go see a hunter who knows them, and then waiting until the next moonrise for Deanna to appear, who'd be able to do an undercover op or winkle more information out of someone, etc. Maybe John bails for a month or two to work on something and Dean's left alone to meet the equivalent of a Cassie, but it's a guy instead, and when John comes back -- now that's a weird moment, huh? (Dean not able to risk getting too close to that guy, in case he unexpectedly changes, and then... although what a way to break up with someone, lol.) You do then wonder if Dean or John would ever consider going to Sam to see if he could cure it. I wonder if John would think of it and then decide against it. (I wonder if Deanna would show up in Sam's apartment in 2005, stuck as a girl for weeks and weeks because Dad was supposed to call and never did, and look at Sam with his arm around some other girl's neck, and think -- what if--?)

[voxofthevoid]

your organization drives me insane every time I see it, I love it. The plot bunnies keep multiplying, good foodddd

I couldn't choose between 20, 26, and 65 so please pick for me!

Everything looks😩🫶

Organization is love, organization is life! And I've started to call them plot demons now because "plot bunnies" sounds so cute and harmless. They Are Not Cute And Harmless. I'm losing my mind. But at least it's fun? 🫠

And since I am certifiably insane, you get two (you get all three, but someone else has also asked for 26, so putting that there):

20

Title: i am like decay (i rot the ground that guides your way) (from "Sweet Things" by The Pretty Reckless)

Ship: Gojou/Yuuji

CWs: Underage, omegaverse (alpha/alpha)

Premise: Absorbing two of Ryomen Sukuna's fingers and integrating his cursed energy trigger Yuuji's rut. The higher-ups predictably want him dead, but Gojou has other ideas—namely, he volunteers as tribute. There's only a slight complication: Gojou's also an alpha, and according to Shouko, he's not the ideal partner for a curse-vessel teenage alpha having his first-ever rut.

Inspiration: This was my very first goyuu/JJK idea *wipes a single tear* I'd even opened a document for it when serpent tongue slammed into my brain and took it over. After that, it's been an endless surge of ideas, and this one's been postponed to hell and back. Still, I'm pretty fond of it, especially because it was the first time I did omegaverse-related worldbuilding for JJK. Some of it, I've incorporated into or adapted for my other omegaverse ideas.

65

Title: say my name like a curse that can't be broken (and i'll scream yours like a wound that's open) (from "Kiss Me" by Rob Vischer)

Ship: Gojou/Yuuji

CWs: Underage, soulmates

Premise: In a world where you have the name of your soulmate and your death on your wrists, but can't tell which is which, Yuuji has Gojou's name on both, while Gojou has Yuuji's and Getou's names on either wrist.

Inspiration: As with many of my post-May 2023 ideas, this is all @nearalways' fault. We were talking about one of their soulmate AUs, and my brain took a hard left to this. They enabled me terribly. I'm not much of a fan of soulmate AUs unless I can make it fucked up, and by god, I will make this fucked up. The premise depends on equating the body and soul such that, like in the Culling Games, Kenjaku in Getou's body is also considered "Getou" and Sukuna in Yuuji's body is considered "Yuuji." It'll be AU after Shibuya.

Thanks for asking 💖

[mylittleredgirl]

♡ dear rare pair creator ♡

thank you for creating something for me! i hope you're excited about whatever we matched on.

i'm pretty easily delighted, so i'm sure i will enjoy whatever you create. i'm including likes/dislikes and a few prompt ideas below in case they are useful to your process, but i LOVE being surprised by things i did not consider, so if you have another idea, please run with it!

--

general likes/dislikes are the same as on the exchange request, broken out into bullet points for easier reading:

general things I love:

happy/hopeful ending

episode-related fic

canon divergence

fix-its

friends to lovers

new or deepening relationship

pre-ship friendship/ust

pining

hurt/comfort

healing and recovery

reuniting after time apart

working through complications (e.g. working together while having a relationship, emotional baggage, traumas inflicted by canon, etc)

including other canon characters in the fic

polyamory dynamics

5 times

all ratings are welcome.

kinks enjoyed

soft dom/sub

praise kink

edging

aliens made them do it (or local canon equivalent)

overindulgence

masturbation

body worship (especially related to body image/weight gain/aging)

i have never said no to a quality blow job or hand job fic

sweet i-love-you sex works for me too!!

DNWs:

permanent character death

hurt no comfort

crossovers (except within extended canon universe, e.g. across star trek shows)

historical AUs

supernatural AUs where the characters are werewolves, etc (supernatural elements like telepathy/psychic powers/soulmates are fine)

vampires and zombies (ghosts and other canon-typical cryptids are ok!)

non-canon nicknames

bashing of characters or canon past relationships (except sam carter’s collection of questionable exes on SG-1, i can live with that).

--

🛸 the x-files

i fell back in love with late-season x-files this year! doggett/reyes was my fic writing origin story, and i am fully back on my bullshit with those two. i also LOVE the dynamic of the three agents in season nine, as people and friends, and it would be so interesting to explore as lovers. random prompt ideas:

john gets knocked around a lot — so what if it's monica's turn to be hurt/in danger on a case, and john's turn to find her or care for her afterward?

doggett/scully/reyes would be so complicated and interesting!! scully learning to trust anyone except mulder; how would it feel for john to spend time around william; there's a good chance this isn't monica's first poly rodeo, but what about the other two... etc etc any little bit about their dynamic would be fun to play with.

the real prompt for the ot4 would be "okay, but for real, how do they not kill each other?" but in a fun way.

--

🛰 babylon 5

this show is an old, old fave, so anything you write will feel like seeing beloved old friends again. pre-series, during, or post-series are all great, and i'm a fan of canon divergence! most of these characters get pretty traumatized by the narrative, and their relationships could be understandably fucked up as a result, but i like it when characters are good and loving at their core -- even if it looks messy while they figure themselves out.

i would love any fix-it that saves talia, with any combination of people involved

did lyta and talia know each other as young telepaths/psi cops interns?

for sinclair/sakai: i LOVE a reunion-of-exes-but-now-it's-right ship soooo much. anything along their journey, including a potential future where she goes with him to minbar or they otherwise reunite again, would be fun to read!

(note: i have read "to dream in the city of sorrows," so if you know it and want to use it as a backdrop for a sinclair/sakai future fic that's fine, but i'm NOT attached and would also love to see your canon divergence of choice!)

--

👽 stargate sg-1

clone sam/jack: i love it best when these two are still themselves, working through some angst and alienation from both their past and their new lives, but also with hope for a sweet future together. there's such a good opportunity for tension between what they were and what they are, both personally and for their relationship.

what's something that used to be normal, but feels so different now? (e.g. if one of them is in danger or injured... but could be anything!)

after they survive high school, what's next? when do their lives start to feel like their own?

janet fraiser/daniel jackson: these two often fall together very easily in the background of sam and jack fics, but they have lots of fun complications of their own (their professional lives; daniel's past; janet raising a traumatized child...), and they have so much potential to be good and loving and maybe a little snarky together.

heroes canon divergence where she survives but it’s a close thing — how does that impact them (either pre-relationship or established)?

something set off-world, since janet so rarely gets to travel through the gate...

--

👾 jake 2.0

this is an extremely niche pairing and so you are definitely not here to write this, but i love jake and diane sooooo much. if, by some rare pair miracle, you have seen this show (!!) i would adore ANYTHING about them!!

--

⚾️ deep space nine

i love this floating bicycle wheel in space and everyone inside it so much!!

julian/ezri: the canon execution of this pairing was not great, but somehow i still really ship it. it's complicated, there's war trauma, there's joining trauma, but i think they could recover together and be friends and lovers for real. i'll take anything from silly fluff to a messy deep dive, totally up to you.

what if the war has lasted longer, and it had taken longer for them to get together?

they could do with some shenanigans i think

miles/keiko/kira: there's so much potential here for fun and healing and cultural exchange, and at the end of the day, i just want kira to keep her new family.

during the series: what if they just keep delaying kira's move-out after the baby is born...

anything about getting the family (the whole ds9 family or just this family!) back together post-series

jadzia dax/lenara kahn: truly the closest we get to a canon soulmate au. i love them and want them to be happy 😭.

what if lenara was telling the truth, and just needed more time?

(note: i haven't read the ds9 post-series novels, but if you have and want to use them, i'm happy to memory beta anything i need to know to appreciate the fic!)

--

✨ voyager

b'elanna/kes: i believe that b'elanna loves and wants gentleness, even if she doesn't know what to do with it at first. i also adore kes as a character. her kindness! her powers, and how she is both drawn toward them and a little scared of them! her brief and vibrant life!

kes has no preconceptions about klingons, so how does that impact how b'elanna sees herself?

anything at all to do with kes's developing powers (and maybe how b'elanna reacts to them...?)

--

🍻 cheers

diane chambers/sam malone: this couple is an absolute disaster, but i would like them to annoy each other til death do they part. ideas:

how do they support each other (well or very badly) in their ongoing mental health/addiction challenges?

what if they stayed in touch on her writing retreat and/or she came back as promised?

if they did get married, diane would co-own the bar and i'm sure she would have ideas about what to do with it...

--

thank you again!! i hope this was useful and not overwhelming. you are totally welcome to toss it out and surprise me 💕 anonymous asks are turned on for this account if you have follow-up questions.

[saved-for-me-own-stories]

I did this! Unfortunately, the life of a newlywed writer prevents me from getting involved this year, but I thought I'd take a little look back at my past ones!

Day 1 = the naval parts of the Civil War, but with merpeople!

Day 2 = Man Who Invented Christmas AU!

Day 3 = I don't even know what this one was, but it had spooky moor vibes

Day 4 = the (younger) Othryans do not know what to call it besides a "dragon"

Day 5 = some of my book characters are suddenly teaching the classes of my fandom characters (also Seth is there for some reason)

Day 6 = magic fae being from one story of mine stops a bad thing from happening in the backstory of another story of mine

Day 7 = kinda like a Star Wars RPG for a handful of my fantasy characters

Day 8 = TPC but in the Underworld! Also Naphtali's a skeleton, so that's fun

Day 9 = my mind palace as a coffee shop for all the characters in my head

Day 10 = kinda similar to the Psmith Star Wars AU by @fictionadventurer, but with my Civil War rebel guys

Day 11 = Bernard Walton and some kids get sucked into a fairytale and have to untwist it to get home

Day 12 = Jumanji but Candyland! And also with my characters

Day 13 = fake academia on a franchise that doesn't exist (this one is so nerdy)

Day 14 = VoicePlay but they run a food truck (I don't know how to run a food truck)

Day 15 = Hanahaki Disease, but make it chronic instead of terminal and also about the four loves

Day 16 = ... okay, the posted version was lame, but the not lame version was super spoilery and creepy as heck

Day 17 = Hello Neighbour AU (like, not even the plot, it's just the actual game combined with my book)

Day 18 = the A-Team as 1940s tough kids (in a boys choir, like "Angels with Dirty Faces"), who have to protect the neighborhood priest

Day 19 = my made-up Greek mythology, but it's all spy organizations and rogue agents and secret formulas

Day 20 = "That Hideous Strength" but they actually go to Sulva/the Moon!

Day 21 = Ghost AU, but not how you expect, because this is Sarah & Duck and I didn't want to make an angsty one for that

Day 22 = first Joker usage! Soulmate AU for a Civil War soldier and a widowed mother (and it's SAD)

Day 23 = Penny from "The Rescuers" has time loop powers!

Day 24 = the Band and the Halwendes switch roles (it IS connected, but it's very complicated)

Day 25 = look, Mad Scientist Naphtali just works, even if I'm just talking about a dumb Phineas and Ferb crossover

Day 26 = second Joker usage! The Partridge Family but it's about acting and plays and such like (also shamelessly shippy)

Day 27 = Chad makes a Supernatural-esque fanfiction about the Time Travel Trio and maybe accidentally creates Danville Superwholock

Day 28 = Last Unicorn AU for TPC (and a little self-indulgent shipping that wouldn't actually be possible in canon)

Day 29 = Marley McFly (aka Jacob Marley has to go back in time and fix something that went terribly wrong)

Day 30 = you know those MCU posts that were like "everybody lives in Avengers Tower and hangs out and it's fun, even though most of them don't canonically know each other or never interact or are straight up dead"? That but for TPC. And with family LOTR readings.

Day 31 = taking "two of the above" as literally as possible, giving "The Agony and the Ecstasy" an Angelic AU with all theological respect

......

....you know, honestly, this almost seems like it could be an ask game.

Here. We. Go! AU-gust 2022 prompt list just dropped! Go on and spread the word!

What is AU-gust? It stands for Alternate Universe August, and it is a creative challenge for everyone. Writers, artists, fans; anyone can join! Be sure to check out our FAQ for more answers! Join us on Twitter, AO3, Discord and under the tags #AU_gust and #AU_gust_2022.

Special thanks to yaoyorozoops for creating this year’s graphics!

[Image ID: 31 days challenge prompt list as follows: 1 Underwater, 2 Artist’s Muse, 3 Countryside, 4 Dinosaurs, 5 Teachers, 6 Fairies, 7 Science Fantasy, 8 Literal Hell, 9 Coffee Shop, 10 Space Academy, 11 Twisted Fairy Tale, 12 Candyman, 13 Reboot/Fresh Start, 14 Food Truck, 15 Hanahaki Disease, 16 Psychological Horror, 17 Annoying Neighbour, 18 Choir, 19 Spies & Assassins, 20 Space Colonisation, 21 Ghosts, 22 Surfers, 23 Infinite Loop, 24 Childhood Friends, 25 Mad Scientist, 26 Paparazzi, 27 Adoptive Family, 28 Unicorns, 29 Where It All Went Wrong, 30 The Good End, 31 Two of the above. You have three Jokers: Soulmate AU, Theatre AU, Yandere AU]

[unevenpatterns]

So I filled out the fanfic tropes tier generator and I feel like this might need some explanantion from my side.

So strap in.

S tier: This is what I live for and what I try to have in my own writing. I know, I know misunderstandings and miscommunication have a bad rep. It's my guilty pleasure ok? I love that shit. And enemies to lovers, mutual pining, angst and humor? Perfect combo.

A tier: The good stuff. This is what I read on a regular basis. Some of them are heavily dependent on which fandom they're in but I like all of them. Fake relationship and soulmates are classics for a reason and pairs well with the S tier angst. Hurt/comfort and fluff are the bread and butter of fanfics. Royal AU 🤝 arranged marriage go together. Bang or die and in vino veritas are both fun when they force the pair to confront those *feelings*. Huddle for warmth is a personal favorite simply because I am a very, very cold person and thinking about being warm brings me joy. PWP... Are we even in agreement on whether it means with or without plot at this point? Regardless I'm on board.

B tier: I won't actively go looking for these tropes most of the time, but will be happy to come across them. Many a good fic has been found in this section. I am a sucker for accidental baby acquisition fics, any fandom goes. Fix it, friends to lovers and established relationship? Is that Stucky and Geraskier I hear in the distance? Yeah I think so. Sharing a bed? Ooh the hockey fandom is calling me home. College AUs are superior to High school AUs in my mind because of the sheer chaos and potential for 'and they were roommates!'

C tier: This is my "it's complicated" level. I've read absolutely great stories in all these tropes but... Each one of them requires me to be in a specific mood and if I am not in that mood it ain't happening. It also requires some good writing to venture into these tropes and I am faster to tap out if I don't vibe with it. All of them have the potential for greatness and all of them have the potential to just be weird and you never know what you're going to get. Teenwolf lives here and claims like half of the tropes.

D tier: this is the 'meh' tier. I can be persuaded to read it, but will never go looking for it and might actively skip them. As for canon divergence, I'm mostly thinking of the type of fics that go like: but what if this major thing was changed and that major thing was changed, but the universe is totally the same, kinda fics. They just... confuse me most of the time. I can handle small changes or the entire universe changed to an AU, but the stuff in the middle makes me lose track of what's happening and the suspension of disbelief too often. Magic is very fandom dependent and mostly ended up here because there are so, so many HP crossovers and I'm not in that fandom at all.

F tier: Nope. As for unhappy ending/death/dark fic: I read for the indulgence, not to get wrecked. I get way too emotionally invested and the few times I've gone down this road have been brutal. As for crossovers and love triangle I just don't care for them and will actively avoid both. Just a preference.

[unofficialsherlockian]

(tis Bougie on anon! Hi!)

W, X, Y and N for the fanfic meme?

Thanks for the ask! I love talking about fanfic :’) (fanfic meme)

W. Favorite pairing to read is definitely Sherlock Holmes x John Watson in most any capacity (save for the platonic Elementary, unless friendships can count in a pairing, then Joan and Sherlock is up there!). Top of that is the og Doyle universe ofc. I’ll slurp up some KakaGai any day too (Kakashi x Gai from Naruto is basically canon anyways).

To write is tricky. I want to write Holmes x Watson but I haven’t found my footing yet. I think my favorite to write so far with confidence has been Linus Baker x Arthur Parnassus (idk if there is a ship name!) of TJ Klune’s The House in the Cerulean Sea. I felt so connected to those characters in a real unique way and writing them feels like second nature. Their voices are always in my head.

X. Im somewhere between a voracious fic reader and a careful one. Smaller fandoms tend to be voracious- I go through the tag picking stuff that sounds good to read and once I finish that, I double back and clear the whole tag out. Larger fandoms I’m very selective (stuff like Sherlock Holmes and HP have me going through with a fine-toothed comb).

Y. Personal satisfaction vs popularity - I kind of have to focus on personal satisfaction as a small time fic writer. I also have a long running background as a writer who has done a lot of original work but hasn’t published yet, so I’m always doing what feels great to me, even if it’s not what other people read.

I’m definitely not most satisfied by my most popular stories - Year one of the Slytherin Harry AU (HP and the Stone of the Immortal) has the most hits of anything rn but I think as I’ve worked on that series, I’ve gotten better and had more fun with it (I’m grateful so many people have taken a look and enjoyed that first part. I really loved writing it; it was a fun start to what’s turning out to be a crazy complicated character driven AU/rewrite. The love for that one is also pushing me to work on it more because damn I wanna eventually finish my queer Slytherin HP).

Second most hits are on Just Transport (BBC’s Sherlock told through the lens of FTM Sherlock). I’m proud of that one because of the response it got-several people said how much it meant to them. But it’s also something written by a very young guy and it shows on how I tackled certain things. I did some trans Sherlock Holmes fic since that I’m definitely more satisfied with (Pieces that Fit with Elementary’s Sherlock FTM)

Those two most popular by hits are second and third to Soulmates in Kudos and I would honestly never think about soulmates again if not for the face that many people still like it (for some reason lol). Emergancy Lighting follows that up, though and that’s one of my most favorite that I’ve ever posted, followed by a couple most recent ones, so I’m hoping as I grow as a writer, maybe it will show in the “popularity” of fics as well.

But honestly, personal satisfaction aside, I’d be happy to only have a handful of readers if they all expressed that my writing meant something to them. That kind of connection is what’s really the best with any story.

[hilarychuff]

for the fic writers questions: 3, 4 (fic choice up to you), 7, 12, 13, 41 & 42 :)

ty for sending so many!!!

3. What are some tropes or details that you think are very characteristic of your fics?

ummm they're very demisexual a lot of the time 🥲 nobody kisses until they're in LOVE love usually lmao. or at the very least a strong basis of "i love you as a person" before it gets to "i'm in love with you"

4. What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of?

i think there are a lot of really fun easter eggs in howl!!!!!! there are lots of horror references in scream but given the sansa pov i sprinkled in a lot of romcom references in the first howl. in scream 2, the initial victims have names related to the victims from the first scream, so in howl 2, i kept that true to the ~message~ of the killer but pulled scream character names for the other bits of it. so like in scream 2, the initial victims are maureen evans and phil stevens — ghostface's nods to maureen prescott and steven orth. in howl 2, my initial victims needed to be references to catelyn tully and ned stark, so i named them tully prescott and eddard becker (like casey). also the moment when tyrion is talking about going on a talk show i changed it from diane sawyer to gayle king so it could be a lil wink to gale weathers. :)

7. Any worldbuilding you’re particularly proud of?

lmao the worldbuilding in all the right reasons (all the right places) is probably unnecessarily complicated for what the fic needed to be!!! obviously i did not create the bachelor world BUT i did get very into like. ok. steve is the bachelor. how did he BECOME the bachelor. how do i adapt his canon storyline. if he's besties with robin it's presumably after a fall from grace. and i pulled a lot of bachelor storylines to build that out like.

it's very much a combination of nick viall going on the show a bunch of times/being kind of a dickish runner up plus becca kufrin last minute swap sympathy arc plus nick viall paradise redemption to bachelor journey but i think if you look at it it really mirrors his canon storyline!!! also all the names of girlies mentioned of seasons past/present are names pulled from stranger things canon so that's fun too

but yeah i mean given that it's basically all back story before the fic even starts (also that it is secondary to the main chrissy/robin romance) it was really more just for fun and to make the world make sense to me of how we got here so!! i think it's interesting

the background targaryen/martell politics for the royal records (jonsa princess diaries au) was also fun and took me a bit to stump through before i was like ah ok i know why dany would now be seeking jon as an heir

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

hmmmm. the only thing that really comes to mind here is like... omegaverse lol. it's still not really my thing (the animal aspect of it doesn't really have any appeal and scent glands in particular is a squick that i also simply do not understand like what are they supposed to be!!!) but i can fuck with the elements of it that's like. soulmate adjacent. biological irrepressible need to fuck RIGHT NOW!!! also this person smells great to me and everyone else is blech. lmao.

13. Are there any tropes you used to like but don’t anymore?

much as i love an au i'm not really into crossovers at all which i used to be much more willing to entertain. i'm a very like "this must make sense" type of reader/writer and it's a lot of logical leaps for me usually. i also used to be a lot more willing to entertain incest ship stuff (which was sometimes a necessity for jonsa) but i much prefer when that is not an element at play (so like a modern au where they're not related at all, or a canon interpretation where they know they're not siblings by the point they come to care about each other romantically).

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

i think i don't have the energy to really attempt this but i looooooooved chrissy and eddie's infinite mixtape from @little-scribblers-heart and especially loved how rosie included references for each chapter in the notes at the bottom. i thought it was a really cool way to incorporate either knowledge about the era or all the research put into it!!! the writing of the fic is amazing in general but i was always super impressed by the work that went into that aspect of it, too.

42. Have you ever received a comment that particularly stood out to you for whatever reason?

not to put her on blast but @beholdthemem will occasionally spoil me with gorgeous in-depth psychoanalysis about my characters and that always makes me go 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 whenever she has thoughts about something i've written i always know i am going to be given a very special gift!!!!!!! these days we're usually chatting over discord rather than leaving comments exactly (btw if anyone wants to be discord friends always feel free to hmu in tumblr messages) but it still counts!!

that said every comment means a lot to me 😭 especially if it is about how a fic made you feel or a lil bit you really loved or a lil bit of commentary on piece of it. truly i am fueled by comments!! motivated by comments!! and i try not to beg for them but i do need them to keep going!!!!!! so anytime someone takes time to leave a thoughtful comment know that i am thinking about it and going back to read it a couple of times!!

[writeforfandoms]

Congrats on 500 you lovable chaos monster you❤️🦝

Could I request number 9, the countdown timer? I don't think I've ever read one with that!! And for some reason the thief spoke to me with this trope, but as usual I give you full permission to choose any character you wish!! Anything that feels right for you is right for me🥰

Sam darling!!! My fellow chaos monster 💖💖🦊

Just for you - Thief with a countdown timer soulmate AU. I had a lot of fun with this one. 

Warnings: Swearing, he’s a thief and he’s thieving, a bit of grabbing (nothing explicit), a little steamy (but still nothing explicit), he’s not a romantic (if you ask him), he’s in denial. 

Word count: 1.4k

Thief x f!reader 

Now presenting...

Wicked Ones

The countdown timer on his left wrist taunted him. He scowled down at it before tugging his shirt cuff back down into place, concealing the numbers. 

He had spent his life ignoring them, he could continue to do so now. 

The invitation had been easy to procure for this party. Not that he was going to use it - he just wanted the information. People were always more distracted during parties, especially when they were hosting. Which made his job easier, in so many ways. 

Five minutes until showtime. He absently adjusted the lapels of his coat jacket, checked his shoes, and tapped the gloves safety tucked away in a pocket. 

He was ready. 

The party was in full swing when he carefully peeked in a window. Lots of people all milling about in fancy attire. The room glittered with jewelry and watches and cufflinks. Most of it didn't catch his eye - he had very refined tastes. His gaze lingered on a woman dressed in blue before he tore himself away. 

He had work to do. 

Getting in was easy, almost laughably so. Avoiding the partygoers was also easy. So far, so good. Getting into the library to the safe hidden behind a bookcase that the poor deluded owner thought was hidden?

Also easy. He'd done much more complicated jobs than this before. 

The necklace was exquisite - diamonds branching like leaves off of the gold band, leading down to a caramel-colored pear-shaped diamond. It was a masterpiece.

And it would look wonderful on Pandora, once he got home. 

The necklace was safely stowed in a pouch in an inside pocket of his jacket, and he replaced everything exactly the way it had been. The gloves ensured no fingerprints. There were no cameras in this house, seeing as the owner ran some business ventures of questionable legality. 

Now all that was left was getting out. 

It should be easy, really. He hadn't heard or seen anyone in this part of the house - they were all busy still in the ballroom. He started down the corridor, walking with confidence. 

In the back of his mind, there was a clock ticking. The same one on his wrist. But he was trying not to think about it, trying to ignore it. Maybe he'd meet someone outside. Or maybe the damn clock would be wrong. 

He turned to make his way towards the back door. Almost there. He was practically home free now. 

And then a door to his left opened and he had to pause to avoid tumbling into someone. 

No, not someone. A woman. The woman. The one in blue, the one he'd noticed earlier. She was beautiful up close like this, and he felt the first stirrings of real interest. 

"Oh!" She blinked at him, pretty painted lips parted in surprise. "Pardon me."

"Not a problem," he assured her, smooth and warm. 

Her eyes went a little wide, and her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip. "I don't think we've met." Her gaze dropped to his lips for a moment before dropping further down. For a moment, he thought she was looking at his crotch. But no, her gaze was a little to the side, off center. 

His heart thumped hard when he realized she was looking at his arm. His wrist. His left wrist. 

"I think…" she trailed off, tongue darting out again. She seemed to lose her words, instead bringing her own wrist up and tapping it. 

The timer had hit zero. 

A little frantically, he tried to think of when his was supposed to have gone off. Sometime during this job, yes, but he'd lost track. Then he shook it off. It didn't matter. 

"I'm sorry, you must be mistaken," he murmured, faux-sympathetic. "Excuse me. My wife is waiting."

He stepped around her, ignoring the way her face fell. It was for her own good. And his, too. He didn't want a soulmate. He didn't need a soulmate. 

He already had everything he wanted. 

She surprised him, though, calling after him: "Why are you here?" 

He paused and turned slowly to look at her. "I told you–"

"You lied. I know every person on the guest list." She had pulled herself up straight, shoulders back, expression determined. He tried to ignore how it only made her more attractive. "So tell me. Why are you here?" 

He looked at her, really looked. She was confident in her assessment, not just bullshitting him. Hm. Curious. 

She shifted, glancing from him back down the hallway, where he had come from. Her eyes narrowed at him. "Where did you come from?"

He smirked. Oh a challenge. Rather against his own will, he liked her. "Same place as everyone else," he murmured. 

"What were you doing down that hallway?" She took two steps towards him, giving him a more thorough once-over. Looking for anything suspicious. She was on the right track but she'd never find his prize. 

"Tell you what. I'll tell you." He leaned in closer to her, smirking just a little. He watched her eyes go wide as he got closer than socially acceptable. "But only if you answer my questions."

"Your questions?" One eyebrow raised in an arch, a challenging look. 

"Yes. My questions." One hand closed delicately around her left wrist. Easily. He could probably hold both her wrists in one hand. If he so chose. 

Some small part of him couldn't help but wonder how those wrists would look wrapped up in leather, or silks. Or some of the precious shiny things he had on Pandora… 

Her tongue darted out to touch her lips, so quick he almost missed the touch of pink. "Or," she murmured, swaying in closer to him, "I could scream and you could answer the questions from the police." 

"You could," he agreed, matching her volume but dropping his voice into downright sultry territory. He watched as she breathed in, pupils dilating, eyes going dark. "But then you'd miss out." 

"On what?" 

"Everything I could tell you. Show you." He squeezed her wrist gently. 

And she melted right into it, not struggling at all. "First you have to answer one question."

A little test, perhaps. Amusing. He'd allow it. "Ask it." 

"Was I right?" Her right hand slipped under the left cuff of his jacket, fingers pressing ever so gently into his wrist, where his timer would be. His now defunct timer. 

He paused, considering. Honesty was hardly his practice. He didn't need a soulmate. He had everything he wanted in life. He should lie. He should tell her no. He should. 

"Yes."

Her smile was the brightest thing he'd seen all night. Necklace be damned, he wanted to hoard those like a jealous dragon. 

And he could start.

Right now. 

He kissed her, tightening his grip on her wrist. But he didn't have to worry about her going anywhere. She leaned into the kiss, parting her lips with a sweet sound when he begged entrance. 

She tasted sweet, like the little finger desserts being served at the party, and he chased the flavor into her mouth. 

By the time he pulled back, they were both panting. She looked at him and grinned. 

"You've got a little something," she murmured, reaching up and swiping her thumb over the corner of his lips. Her thumb came away tinted with lipstick. 

"And I'll get a little more something." He started guiding her back, away from the party, towards the library. He had a secondary escape route plotted out from there. 

"What are you doing?" Uncertainty flashed in her eyes. 

He smirked. "Giving us a little privacy," he murmured. The library door clicked shut behind them, and he flipped the lock. 

"I suppose now is a bad time to ask if you're a serial killer." The words were light, but there was real worry in her eyes. 

"I promise I will never raise a hand to hurt you," he murmured, giving her wrist a reassuring little squeeze. "But I will distract you." 

And with one last smirk he pulled her close and kissed her again, intent on smearing that pretty lipstick as much as he could. 

Questions could wait until later. 

(As could the fact that he was seriously considering a later.)

--

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[foundmywei]

Iwaoi Fanfic Recs

Here are my favorite iwaoi fics! I haven't read any in a while and I unfortunately didn't start making this list back in the old days when I read more but I do have plenty of them saved. (I know some of them are classics but I couldn't not include them) Enjoy!

Masterpost

the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle by kittebasu (chanyeol)

(66,307 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 3/3)

post-anime-canon

Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.

we shine like diamonds by whitemiists

(26,733 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

canon compliant

Oikawa is nine when he first hears the word. The boys on the playground whisper it like it's dirty, like the way they daringly mutter the wordfuckand then look over their shoulders to check their parents hadn't heard.

"You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is...gay."

Six-Month Lover by afuzzyowl

(89,000 words | Explicit | Chapters: 17/17)

post-anime-canon

Iwaizumi barks out a laugh. “I’m still trying to get over the fact that you made a PowerPoint presentation about why we should date.” Oikawa doesn’t tell him the file has existed for the last twelve years, constantly receives updates, and that the original copy contained almost a hundred slides before he forced himself to get a grip.

Moments in Oikawa’s journey to win over his best friend’s love: the sad, the happy, and everything in between.

Not Quite What You Planned by MellowWrites

(42,990 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 17/17)

kinda-soulmate AU

It seemed pretty simple and it made sense to those who bought it, but the actual science behind it was complicated and far too lengthy to comprehend. But the point of the TiMER was simple - a digital clock that would count down to the exact day you met your soulmate.

That was the ideal romantic future Tooru had grown up with.

you're looking like you fell in love tonight by anyadisee

(34,930 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

college AU, fake dating

“So, let me see if I understood this correctly,” Hajime says, slow and careful like he’s still waiting for some kind of punchline. “You want me to help Oikawa Tooru, a guy I barely know, because your boyfriend owes him a favor?”

“And you owe me a favor,” Hanamaki adds helpfully.

“That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“Sure it does.” Hanamaki’s smile widens. “Issei and I are practically the same person by now, anyway, so whatever favor you owe me, you also owe him. And by repaying me, you are repaying him, and in turn he is repaying Oikawa. Think of it as, like, the transitive property of equality. A equals B equals C. A equals C.”

“I know what the transitive property of equality is,” Hajime snaps.

[in which iwaizumi pretends to be oikawa's boyfriend.]

darlin', your head's not right by aruariandance

(13,658 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

post-anime-canon

“Our wedding,” Oikawa says by way of explanation, tapping his finger against his magazine more emphatically. “What colors should we use? Color scheme is important, apparently.”

Iwaizumi feels his lifespan shortening.

“I was thinking our Aoba johsai colors to go for more, you know, softer tones? Besides, I’ve always looked great in that sea foam green color. Oh, and I guess you look decent in it, too.” He grins, saccharine sweet, and Iwaizumi has never been so tempted to knock one of his perfect pearly white teeth right out of his stupid mouth."

or,

Oikawa teases Iwaizumi about a childhood promise he made to marry him when they were older, except suddenly it's not really a joke at all.

but you'd be so fun to date by fliick

(11,709 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

college AU, fake dating

“It’d just be for tomorrow,” Tooru explains rapidly, “You just have to, like, hold my hand for a while or something. Nothing big.” Iwa huffs with poorly measured aggravation, “I’m not gonna pretend to be your boyfriend, Oikawa. What the hell even happened for you to say something like that?”

closure by thelittlebirdthattoldyou

(21,999 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 4/4)

post-anime-canon

"Iwaizumi," Wakatoshi says. "You love him." Oikawa freezes. “Hm? Don't be stupid, Ushiwaka-chan.” “It is not my place to intrude into your personal relationships -“ “It really isn’t,” Oikawa agrees.

In his first year of university, Oikawa builds a new friendship and upgrades an old one.

Or: Ushijima is not a great wingman, but he tries his best.

Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad) by sunsmasher

(19,309 words | General Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

post-anime-canon

It’s July 10th, 2024, and Oikawa Tooru is an Olympian. His smiling face airs on an NHK promo every 45 seconds. He’s captain of the national men’s volleyball team, reigning star of the professional leagues, and he hasn't spoken to Iwaizumi Hajime in two years.

He has, however, sent Iwaizumi tickets for the 2024 Los Angeles Summer Games.

“So go,” says Matsukawa's voice. “It’s only a few weeks. You’ve got a whole city to hide in if it gets awkward, and if it doesn’t get awkward, well…” It’s like watching the future reconfigure, like being in high school again, watching team after team fall to Oikawa’s faultless planning and shameless charm. “I’ll get to watch a whole lot of volleyball,” Hajime says, and resigns himself to fate and/or Oikawa Tooru. “Hey, when you get there, can you bag a gymnast for me?” Hanamaki asks, and Matsukawa squawks.

Catalyst by Jya, ShatteredEpiphany

(11,175 words | General Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

canon compliant, set in high-school

To Oikawa, being injured is the worst possible fate imaginable. To Iwaizumi looking after his best friend is something he can't imagine his life without. They never expected it to act as a catalyst for what they want the most in this world, nor did they expect that their dreams reflected each other's.

// takes place before the Karasuno/Seijoh practice match

When You Wish Upon a Star by emerald1963

(31,975 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 8/8)

bodyswap AU

Hajime has no idea how this situation is even possible, but he’s one hundred percent certain that it’s all Oikawa’s fault.

Oikawa blames the aliens.

The Iwaoi body swap fic that this fandom needs, if not the one it deserves.

five minutes west of irvine by birdcat

(20,371 words | General Audiences | Chapters: 2/2)

canon-compliant-ish, 2021 olympics

Or maybe it’s just the Argentinian national team shirt. In the dim, the blue could be mistaken for Seijou teal. Or the cobalt of Kitagawa Daiichi. Maybe that’s Oikawa’s cosmic trajectory, Hajime thinks—forever graduating from one shade of blue into the next.

In which Oikawa returns to Tokyo for the Olympics. In which it's been a while. In which the reunion is clumsy.

Shiver by Yuu_chi

(16,703 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

canon-compliant/high school & post-anime-canon

Oikawa was always the brave one. Hajime just followed two paces behind.

10 ways iwaizumi hajime has said i love you by daisugass

(15,894 words | General Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

canon compliant, set in high-school

I love you's come in actions, not words.

static by blessings

(6,452 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

canon compliant, set in high-school

Sometimes Hajime wonders if Oikawa sees the same things he does when he looks out over their neighborhood (right now it’s two kids kicking up pebbles on their bikes, lugging backpacks filled with walkie-talkies and water bottles and alien scanners, not sure if they’re heading down to the forest or up to the river but positive that they’ll get there together). Back then he and Oikawa saw the same thing when they looked down the road – a straight shot to another adventure, if they just pedaled fast enough. Sometimes Hajime worries they stopped seeing the same thing a while ago and he never noticed.

Being snowed in with all of Seijou volleyball in his childhood home brings back a lot of memories for Iwaizumi, because it's kinda Oikawa's childhood home too.

make a bet, keep a promise by raewrites

(13,988 words | Mature | Chapters: 1/1)

canon compliant, childhood to post-anime-canon

Sometimes, in still moments, Iwaizumi wonders why out of all the people on earth he ended up with Oikawa Tooru. Why it’s his face that lingers on his fading conscious in the last moments before he falls asleep, in the first blurry seconds upon waking up again. Why when he looks to his side, he expects Oikawa to be there in the same way he expects to see five fingers on both hands, a natural extension of himself, ever present.

Why he can’t imagine a future without Oikawa in it.

It begins with a bet made between the two boys in the mid-summer of their eighth year. It starts with volleyball, but like with most things involving Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime, things are never quite that simple.

given by dialsoap

(15,705 words | General Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

canon compliant, time-skip, Argentina

Iwaizumi spends the spring break of his senior year of college visiting Oikawa in Argentina. It's the first time they've seen each other in person in ages. They sightsee, eat, sit around, bask in one other's company, talk about their futures...

They've known each other their whole lives and they've been away from home long enough that it's not quite clear where home is. This fic is about loving someone a world away and how that distance doesn't mean you love them any less. Maybe it makes the heart grow fonder, maybe it makes you grow up?

most people never even get a single high school rival by sulfate

(5,217 words | General Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

canon compliant, olympics

“Iwaizumi Hajime,” Santiago sounds out. Those damn telescope eyes. “Huh. I thought his name was Iwachan?” “Is it the wrong guy?” Mateo narrows his eyes. “No, that’s definitely him, that’s the dude from Tooru’s homescreen… is it?” “Only one way to find out!” Santiago says cheerfully.

Team Argentina gets to know Iwaizumi Hajime (27) Athletic Trainer

Learning to Walk (So That We Can Run) by ricekrispyjoints

(27,639 words | Mature | Chapters: 1/1)

post-anime-canon

"I'm not healing like I should be."

In his second year of university, physical therapy just isn't cutting it. Oikawa's knee is getting worse, and he can't hide it anymore.

Or: the light angst, project-your-own-life-experiences-on-Oikawa knee surgery fic you didn't know you wanted.

How to deal with an emotionally stunted best friend by Iwaizumi Hajime by flaminpumpkin

(14,778 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

post-anime-canon

Iwaizumi Hajime wasn't expecting his relationship with his bestfriend to change a lot when he left for an exchange program. After all they went through, what could a bunch of kilometers do?

Oh, how wrong was he to think that.

body language by solyn

(13,917 words | Teen And Up Audiences | Chapters: 1/1)

oikawa and atsumu bodyswap, +sakuatsu

Atsumu leans closer, strokes over the planes of his pretty boy face, does a 360 twirl in the mirror just to confirm. Yep, still Oikawa, although he can’t possibly imagine why.

Miya Atsumu and Oikawa Tooru swap bodies. There's one giant problem, though: they've never met.

Fernweh by oikawashoyo

(19,633 words | General Audiences | Chapters: 2/2)

canon universe, set after high school

Argentina is stretching out before him, an opportunity, a challenge. He is reminded of his losses, his insecurities, his disappointments; sees them form a tall, tall wall blocking his path to success. He takes a deep breath and knows he is going to shatter it.

In which Oikawa's whole life is spent longing for the horizon — in the form of a dream, a home, and a boy.

chasing gold by skiecas

(45,049 words | Mature | Chapters: 1/1)

set during the 2021 olympics

It’s Tokyo 2021, backdrop for the XXXII Summer Olympiad Games. Oikawa Tooru returns to Japan after a triumphant, eight-year long run as pro setter in Argentina’s professional volleyball League. And it's been just as long since Hajime watched him disappear across the oceans, maybe never to return.

On reuniting with your best friend, standing atop the world stage, and trying to catch wisps of a golden boy. An Olympic tale, one lifetime in the making.