#so many are near completion I’m just indecisive and anxious about how well they will be recieved

[yanderederee]

Heads up btw! I have 7 drafts currently in progress, I think about 3 of them are requests. I’d like to start publishing them soon, so wish me luck!

[heyyyharry]

Chapter 4: Chasing Shadows

(from ‘The Winter and The Crown’)

…in which Harry keeps visiting the same place in his dreams.

Word count: 8.8k

AU: queen!y/n, commander!harry

Description: Y/N and Harry set off on a new adventure to find ‘the cure’ for an ancient curse, meanwhile, the enemies are plotting to take her kingdom.

Wattpad link (Reyna as Y/N)

ANNOUNCEMENT:

For the next two weeks, I’ll be extremely busy with two exams and my job and all that adult stuff (ugh). I’ll still post blurbs and take a two-week break from the series.

***Chapter 5 will be posted on Wednesday, August 26, 2020.

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“Do I really have to be tied to a chair?”

“Yes.”

Y/N took a little knife from the tray the guard was holding, holding back a grin as Harry flicked his eyes between the blades, her and the two men in armours.

“My anxiety is peaking right now,” he said.

She snorted and waved the knife in front of his face, finding it entertaining how his breath caught as he recoiled. “Don’t worry. I used to do this for my father and brother.”

“I don’t remember what those people looked like so I cannot be sure you’re good at it.”

Y/N pressed her lips into a smile. “You’ve never met my father. And you probably shouldn’t remember my brother.” Especially when Egon had been haunting most of her nightmares.

“Sorry…” Harry mumbled. “Let’s not talk about your family then.”

“Let’s not talk at all.” She just wanted to get this done and leave. If he said something that hurt her again, she might just cry in front of him and that would be embarrassing.

Slowly and cautiously, her trembling fingers reached for his face. She was indecisive about how she should touch him, as for him, hers would be the touch of a stranger; she wouldn’t want a stranger to just grab her face and angle it however they liked. But then Harry’s mouth curled to one side and he nudged her hand with his cheek like a horse.

“You can touch me. I'm clean. They gave me a bath this morning.” His cheek felt warm against her skin and she moved her thumb gently over his stubble beard. He grinned at her tentative touch. “It was very...new,” he said, “to have five men watching you bathe.”

She couldn’t help but giggle, gaining more confident to slide her hand down to his jaw, lifting his face. “I wouldn’t even go near you if you smelled bad.”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“You didn’t say ‘no offence’, so I’m offended.”

He was doing it again – cracking jokes when he didn’t have to – because silence pained him. He was just as nervous as she was. And somehow knowing that made her feel more comfortable.

She lifted the knife and felt him grow tenser as she approached. “Stay still and I’ll try not to cut you.”

“Try?” His eyes grew big. Her mouth twitched as she shushed him and started on the left side of his face.

She’d lied. She’d not cut her father’s and brother’s hair nor shaved their beards; she just wanted Harry to trust her. Before this, he would have trusted her even if she’d held the knife whose blade was buried in his chest. Now they had to start over. It wasn’t easy to win his trust; neither was it to win hers.

She finished shaving the right side of his face without having cut him. His breathing steady as he relaxed into his seat. Their eyes met by accident, and the knot in her stomach also relaxed. They didn’t converse until she was done.

She put the knife back on the tray and picked up a sharp pair of scissors when the sound of the large door to the dungeon made her jump. Footsteps descended the stairs. And Lance emerged at the cell door.

Harry scoffed. “Has everyone in the castle been invited to see me get a haircut?”

Y/N ignored him and asked Lance, “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah,” he said, squaring his shoulders as he leaned back against the wall. “I’m just here to make sure he won’t lay a finger on my betrothed.”

Y/N shot him a warning look, and Harry asked, “What’s a betrothed?”

The question nagged at her yet she did not let it show. She’d explained the word to him before; she’d been six and he’d been eight. Back then he hadn’t known who she was and yet the memory had also been erased.

“Do you always talk this much?” she heard Lance ask Harry, probably to distract him from her unusual pause. But Harry didn’t look at Lance. He tilted his head to the side and asked her, “Are you feeling unwell? We can do this another time.”

“I’m fine.” She forced a grin so he wouldn’t suspect it. Her Harry would be able to see right through that. This Harry was completely oblivious to her hurt feelings.

Y/N brushed off the uneasiness and pressed her hand into Harry’s curls, being as careful as she could to test the water. She could feel both Lance’s and Harry’s gaze on her as she started cutting with experimental motions at first, and grew more confident with every snip of the scissors.

An evil idea crossed her mind. She considered giving him the stupidest haircut to make him pay for having put her through all this misery. Then, she saw that soft look in his eyes and the thought vanished as soon as it’d appeared.

Why was she mad at him? It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t remember anything. It was her fault that he was like this. Harry wouldn’t be mad at her if she were the one who forgot; he’d be patient with her because he loved her.

He loved me, she told herself. Not anymore.

She set aside all the longing to focus on trimming the back and sides of his head and ended up in front of him again. With a last snip of the scissors, brown hair floated to the floor. She took a step back to assess her work, widening her focus to take in more than just his hair. The transformation left her speechless. She hadn’t thought he would look this good with short hair. All the ladies in court were going to throw themselves at him as if they hadn’t tried before.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Harry asked, his face taut with distress. “How long do I have to hide in the dark until it looks normal again?”

Y/N let a smile sneak onto her lip as she lifted his face with the handle of the scissors under his chin. “It’s good. I’m good. Lance, what do you think?”

“Average,” Lance said without a second thought, his expression neutral. “I mean him. Not your work.”

Y/N glared at him, and he shrugged as Harry let out a scoff. “Jealousy doesn’t look good on you, Your Majesty.”

“Stop it. Both of you,” Y/N snapped as she put the scissors back on the tray.

Lance didn’t say another word and ordered the two guards to come with him. She knew he did it on purpose to let her be alone with Harry. If only she could tell Lance how grateful she was. They hadn’t been talking since Harry had returned.

The door above the stairs fell shut, the sound echoing across the dungeon. Y/N had her dagger at her waist and Harry was tied to a chair and unarmed, so if he tried something, she’d be able to take him. She went behind him to untie his wrists, and as slowly as she could, closed her fingers around the hilt of her dagger.

But Harry didn’t make a move. He sat there as she returned to stand in front of him. His eyes dropped to her chest, and her face burned red as she thought he was staring at her cleavage. It took her a second to realize it was the bruised marks around her neck that were holding his attention.

Without saying a word, he reached out his hand, and she gripped her dagger as he touched her there, grazing his thumb gently over the skin. “It looks worse,” he said, his forehead creased. “Does it hurt?”

She slowly shook her head. Her brain was telling her to step back because he was dangerous and his kindness might be fake, but every other piece of her wanted to hold him and never let go until the old Harry crawled back to the surface and loved her again.

“How about your wounds?” she asked, pointing to his torso. “You got a pretty bad one there.”

He wiggled his brows teasingly. “How do you know?”

She rolled her eyes. “I saw the attacker aim for that spot before I was shot.”

“Oh…” He shifted a bit in his chair, rubbing his hands against his thighs. Meanwhile, she took in his new appearance, trying to get used to it. He looked like a prince. With a crown, he could be Lance’s equal. Something stirred inside her. He could be a completely different man now. What if she’d lost him forever?

“How long do I have to stay here?” he asked.

She blinked. “What?”

“How long do I have to stay here?” he repeated the question, looking rather anxious. “I don’t–I don’t think my memory’s coming back.”

A thin edge of hurt worked its way under her skin as she tried not to let it show by keeping a straight face.

Harry combed his fingers through his hair, faltering as the unfamiliarity caught him by surprise. He swallowed dryly and went on, “So if you’re hoping to get some information out of me, I don’t think I’ll be able to help you. I cannot stay here forever.”

Y/N knew that. Right from the start, she should have known that he didn’t belong here. If she hadn’t been so selfish and begged him to stay in the North, he might have travelled the world and been married by now, with children and a wife who was gentle and kind and wouldn’t keep him in the dark or put him in danger.

“I cannot send you back to the South if that’s what you’re asking,” she said. “No one from the North is allowed to cross the South’s border.”

“I know,” he sighed and dropped his gaze to his feet. “Can I at least see Kenny? She’s the only family I’ve got here…” Y/N swallowed as she averted her eyes and clenched her fists. He didn’t notice how agitated she’d become. “Or does she not want to see me? I don’t remember what went wrong with us. I still have so many questions for her.”

Y/N could offer to answer all those questions; Kenny didn’t know him as well as she did, not anymore. But she could not do it without revealing their past. Would he think she was lying if she told him that he used to be in love with her, that he’d chosen to be with her instead of with Kenny and sworn to never let anything bad happen to her as long as he lived?

It didn’t work that way. You couldn’t make someone love you again just by telling them that they should. And she could not see him falling in love with her again, not when she was betrothed to Lance and her kingdom was at war. Her Harry would take her secrets to the grave. This Harry had tried to kill her.

“Fine,” she sighed. “You may meet Kenny. I’ll call for her and Stefan.”

“One more thing,” he blurted before she could leave. “Could you...call for only Kenny?” As she narrowed her eyes, he explained, “It’d be uncomfortable for all three of us if—”

“I see,” she cut him off, keeping a straight face. “Anything else?”

Y/N didn’t realize how vexed she’d sounded until she saw him blush. “No. Nothing else. Thank you, Your Majesty.”

She stared at him while he stared at his feet. A thousand things she wanted to say – but could not – piled up on her tongue. And when she left, Harry didn’t stop her.

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Kenny seemed disconcerted to see him.

At first, Harry had thought she didn’t like how he looked with his hair so short (he’d requested for a mirror but the guard had ignored him, even after he’d said he was best friends with the Queen. Where was Y/N when he needed her?). But having known Kenny for that many years, he could easily guess that it wasn’t his haircut that she found unpleasant; it was the fact that he’d asked to see her alone.

Kenny looked quite different now. She’d always been beautiful, but now she looked more mature, which made sense because she was a wife and a mother of a baby girl. His last memory of her had been the day he’d left Theros and they’d made a vow that they’d get married when he returned. Now he was living in the past while the whole world had moved on and left him behind.

“You look good,” Kenny said with a nervous chuckle. “The Queen did a good job.”

Harry instinctively tugged at his short curls. “I thought she was lying when she said she’d done it before.” Kenny’s face contorted a bit. He whipped his head to both directions of the aisle outside his cell. “What? Is she here?”

“What do you think of the Queen?” Kenny asked, taking him by surprise.

He took a moment to think. It was always safe to be careful with what you said about kings and queens. “She’s all right,” he said. “Cold. But I think most Northerners are. It’s the ice in their blood.”

Kenny smiled a little and wrapped her shawl around herself as if being near him made her uncomfortable. “She’s getting married next month.”

“So I heard,” Harry snorted. “She and the King make a great match, although he could be quite a dick and she’s more on the softer side.” Then he waved his comment away. “Let’s not talk about them. It’s not like we’re invited to their wedding. Wait, are we invited to their wedding?”

Kenny didn’t answer his question. “What do you want to talk about then?”

She wanted him to get straight to the point and get this over with. It’d be a lie to say it didn’t hurt his feelings.

“Us, Kenny.” Harry frowned. “I want to talk about us.”

There was a pained expression on Kenny’s face as she opened and closed her mouth a couple of times and yet could not find the right words to begin. Harry decided not to wait. “I know that you’ve told me everything you knew, but I still have so many questions about us. Some things just don’t make sense...at least to me…”

Kenny fidgeted with her fingers. “Like what?”

“Like…” He pursed his lips, hugging the bars as he leaned forward against it. “If you only married Gideon because you thought I was dead, then why didn’t we get together after you—” He cut himself off just in time, not wanting to bring up the fact that she’d had to kill the bastard herself. He didn’t want to hurt Kenny more than that memory already had. “After we’d run away,” he corrected himself, “why did I end up here in the North and left you with Stefan?”

“I already told you, Crow. You wanted to serve the Queen because you two had bonded throughout the journey.”

“Why would I choose her over you? I would never choose anyone over you.”

She pressed her lips into a soft grin, probably to calm him yet it only made him more uneasy. “You fell out of love with me on the journey. We decided to stay friends.”

The light from the torch beside his cell flickered across her cheekbones. He tore his eyes from hers. His heart sank in as he smiled sadly to himself. “I cannot imagine a world where it’s so easy to fall out of love with you.”

Kenny stayed quiet for a moment. He expected her to just turn and leave him here for the memories to consume, but then she took a few steps until she was close enough for him to touch. He didn’t. He kept his fingers wrapped around the bars, reminding himself that she was Stefan’s wife and the mother of a child. Harry wasn’t going to mess up her perfect new life.

“I love Stefan,” she told him as if she could see right through him. “I don’t want to ruin your friendship with him. Stefan cares about you.”

“I know,” he sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, only to remember his long curls were gone. As he spoke, his voice was more brittle than he thought it’d be. “Does he make you happy?”

Kenny nodded and smiled. “Very.”

“Then...I’m happy for you,” he said despite how he felt. Then after another moment, “Did I fall in love with someone else?”

Kenny seemed taken aback by the question. She shook her head slowly. “I-I don’t know. We never talked about it. Why did you think so?” There was a short pause. “Did you...remember something?”

“No. That was the only way I could see myself falling out of love with you.”

He regretted saying it the second the words slipped out. He thought he’d upset her, but Kenny only beamed and reached for his hand around the bar. Her touch was gentle and warm, and in his head he imagined himself dropping down onto his knees and begging her to come back to him.

At first, he’d cried and blamed the Queen for everything he’d lost that he could not get back. It was because of her that he’d left Kenny with Stefan. It was because of her that he’d gone to battle and lost his memory and had to live in the past while everyone he loved had moved on.

But then he’d seen the Queen in his dream one night, and after he’d woken up, she’d shown up at his cell. He could not hate her or blame her for the things she could not control. She’d suffered, too, perhaps more than he had, internally. She’d tried to mask it, but her expressive eyes had given it away. Maybe this was nobody’s fault and he and Kenny just weren’t meant to be. He should be glad that she was free from Gideon and had ended up with Stefan.

“I have to return to my daughter,” Kenny said as she tucked a strand behind her ear; he’d been staring at it the whole time, wishing he could do it for her.

“What’s her name?”

“What?”

“Your daughter. What’s her name?”

“Eva.”

“Can I see her?” He chuckled. “When they release me, of course.”

“Sure. She’ll like you,” Kenny said.

“How long are you staying here?” he blurted before she could turn away, not ready for this conversation to end.

“For as long as the King and Queen need me,” Kenny replied.

Harry didn’t know what the King and Queen needed Kenny for. He assumed that it might be because Kenny was the only person who could make sure he wouldn’t try to hurt anyone again. After all, Y/N had told him two nights ago that she didn’t trust him anymore. He couldn’t blame her. If anything, he admired her for how she’d been dealing with this whole mess.

“Maybe you should ask the Queen to let you stay,” he said brightly, trying to sound cheerful. “Then Eva could become friends with the future heir to the throne.”

Kenny’s smile faded. Harry must have said something wrong. “The Queen cannot produce an heir.”

“Oh.” His smile also vanished. “Fuck...I feel bad for her.” No wonder Y/N was so cold. But how could she know she couldn’t produce an heir?

Harry knew it was none of his business, but for some reason, he was curious. Would it be rude if he asked her the next time he saw her?

“I’ll see you another time?” Kenny said.

Harry worked up a tight smile, trying not to acknowledge the waver in his voice. “Goodbye. Say hello to Stefan and Eva for me.”

Just like that, Kenny left, without taking a second look at him.

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Y/N was woken by Jo screaming her name in the corridor before bursting into her bed chamber and slamming the door shut with her back.

The morning sun was a diffused orb of light through the window. A tiny pulsing spurred at Y/N’s temples from not getting enough sleep, and she climbed free from the bed, light-headed and empty.

She didn’t remember how she’d fallen asleep. She’d been so afraid of the nightmares that she couldn’t even shut her eyes. She’d wanted to go to Lance’s chamber — she felt safer with him — but she didn’t want to trouble him, especially after he’d made it clear that they should keep their distance until she was completely over Harry. She should respect his wishes. Yet, she missed him.

She didn’t know how to tell him she’d grown used to having him around and depending on him so much that she felt lost without him. How could she say that when she was still hopelessly in love with Harry? And how could she still be hopelessly in love with Harry if it was Lance who made her feel safe?

Her heart lurched as Lance emerged at the doorway and gave her a tender smile.

“There you are, Your Royal Majesty,” Jo said to Lance in a sarcastic tone as she settled on the edge of Y/N’s bed. “I’ve got great news.”

“Harry finally remembers?” Y/N said.

“You’re leaving court?” Lance said.

“No,” Jo told Y/N. To Lance, she said, “I will strangle you and I don’t care that's treason.”

Lance’s mouth fell open. “Your lady-in-waiting just threatened me!” he told Y/N, and she smiled and gave him a shrug to say, ‘You might as well get used to it.’

Jo clapped her hands to get their attention. “It’s Mary! I came to see her at dawn!”

“You what?!” Y/N and Lance cried at the same time.

“Yes,” Jo said calmly. “I came to see her and I made her talk.”

“But how?” Lance asked.

“Doesn’t matter,” Jo said. Y/N and Lance exchanged looks of concern though neither interrupted her. “She told me about the antidote.”

Lance snorted as he walked in and stood in front of them, hands behind his back. “She said there was no antidote.”

Jo shot him an annoyed look. “That’s because she wasn’t sure if it existed.”

“What does that mean?” Y/N asked, losing her patience.

Jo scooted over for Lance to sit down beside her. “It’s The Lake of Tears," she said.

“The what?”

Jo rolled her eyes as she turned to Lance. “I keep forgetting that you’re not from here. Here in the North, there’s folklore about a witch who was born with half a heart. She was gifted with healing powers and could cure all sickness, mental or physical, but she could not cure the pain caused by missing half of her heart. The witch spent all her life searching for the other half. When she got to the top of the highest mountain in the North, it was winter, she was freezing to death and alone, so she cried and cried and her tears formed a lake, drowning her in it. Folks call it The Lake of Tears and it’s said to be the cure for all sickness and can reverse all curses and spells.”

“But it cannot bring a dead person back to life,” Y/N added.

Lance’s face was screwed up as he eyed Jo with speculation. “You expect us to believe that there’s a lake on the North mountain — the coldest part of Isolde — that’s not frozen and has magical powers?”

“Are you calling our ancestors liars?”

“You said it was folklore, so yes.”

“How dare you—”

“Enough!” Y/N snapped and four eyes turned to her. She sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry, Jo. But I’m with Lance in this. Even Mary, who was a witch, doesn’t fully believe that the lake exists, so why should we?”

“Mary does believe in it,” Jo said quickly. “She told me she and her sister had tried to find the lake but they could not bear the cold and always gave up halfway. I think such powers may exist.”

“It’s dangerous to climb that mountain in winter,” Lance said, his voice rough, and Y/N thought he’d frightened Jo a bit. Y/N knew Lance. He was just worried for her.

“It is,” she said and their eyes locked. “But you shouldn’t unbelieve in something just because it frightens you.”

Lance wanted to rebut, yet he could not figure out what to say. His mouth opened then shut and he averted his eyes, leaning forward with elbows on his knees and hands clasped together. Jo seemed relieved that Lance had given in. She sat up straight. “Y/N?”

Y/N pursed her lips, thinking for another second. “Bring me breakfast,” she said. “I’ll eat and we’ll talk more about it.”

“Yes!”

“Y/N—”

“It might be our only hope, Lance,” she cut him off as Jo skipped toward the door and left as fast as she’d arrived.

The silence sank in as Y/N stood up, arms wrapped around herself. Lance stayed seated on her bed, watching her with a look of concern.

“I was right about Harry being alive,” she said. “So I might be right to believe in this, too.”

Lance exhaled sharply. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up and get disappointed and eventually hurt. I know you love him,” there was something painful in the way he said it, “but what if...what if he cannot come back? What if the person who loved you was gone forever? What then?”

Those were the questions that had been haunting her since the moment she saw the look in Harry’s eyes when he looked at her — the look you’d give a stranger you never intended to see again. There was not a single sign of ‘do I know you?’ or 'have we met before?' Just ‘who are you?’.

“But when I talked to him,” she began, almost like she was thinking out loud, “I felt like the old Harry was there. He might still feel something for me but his feelings are buried deep inside. I think given time I can get him back.”

Lance said nothing at all. You knew Lance had given up on you when he didn’t try to win an argument.

“I’ll leave you to rest,” he said and rose to his feet.

Just as he was about to head for the door, Y/N jumped into his way and held out her hands. He flinched, just as surprised as she was.

“S-Stay,” she uttered. “Just...just stay here with me until Jo returns. Please? I don’t want to be alone with my own thoughts.”

He took some time to consider her. “Have those nightmares been keeping you up?” It didn’t sound like a question; he just knew.

She nodded. “The same one every night…” in which you and Harry were dying and I could only save one. I tried saving both and then had to watch both of you die…

Her gaze fell to the floor. She saw his feet shifting closer until his arms closed around her, pulling her into him. As he kissed the top of her head and gently stroked her hair, she set aside the guilt and allowed herself to enjoy the comfort of his embrace.

“I missed you, Y/N,” he whispered.

“So did I,” she admitted, bringing her hands to rest on his back. “Are we still friends?”

He chuckled. “Only behind closed doors. I can’t always look soft; it’s bad for my public image.”

Y/N snorted and buried her face into his chest. He still smelled like forest and winter, the things that used to frighten her. But at this moment, with him, she felt safe.

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“What are we doing here?”

“Am I in trouble?”

“Does this have anything to do with getting my memory back? Who are you, by the way?”

Jo swept her eyes across each face and as she stopped at Harry, her face twisted into a scowl. “You’re more annoying than I remember,” she said. “Anyway, we’re here because I need your help.”

Kenny hugged the sleeping child to her chest, the corners of her mouth lowered as she considered their surroundings. “To clean...the library?”

Jo took a look around at the dusty shelves and let out a sigh. This place did need a lot of cleaning. It seemed as if nobody in this castle knew how to read.

“As you can see,” Kenny said, lifting her baby, “my hands are tied.”

“So are mine,” Harry said. “Literally.” Then lifted his tied hands.

Jo rolled her eyes. “Someone untie him.” The blonde standing beside Harry shifted and Jo forestalled her, “No, not you. This one bites.”

The young maid shied back instantly, and when her eyes met Harry’s and he gave her a lopsided grin, it heightened the colour in her cheeks. Jo cleared her throat and shot Harry a warning glare before she gestured for Stefan to untie Harry.

“We’re going to do some light reading today," she said. "Are there any of you who cannot read?”

Harry raised his hand.

“Why am I not surprised?” Jo grumbled.

“Harry, you can read!” Kenny cried.

Harry put his hand down and smirked. “Sorry, I was just testing my hand. Those ropes were way too tight for my blood circulation.”

Jo pinned him with a glare. “I liked you better when you were dead.”

“Wow...Did I steal your money or your grandma’s jewellery?” he chuckled. “Because if I did, I’m sorry.”

Jo almost said, ‘You stole the girl I love and you're going to hurt her,’ but instead she just ignored his remark and went on, “We’re going to do some research for the Queen. I’ll explain to you later but I need your help because there’s little time and a lot of books. Kenny, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“No, I love reading.”

“Great. Oh, this is Natasha. She’s the new maid and she’ll also be joining us.”

“This is my first task ever, and I’m excit—”

“Thank you, Nat,” Jo cut her off, annoyed by how Harry and the new girl kept exchanging questionable glances. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t want to read, you can return to your cell.”

“No. I love to read,” he said, but then his eyes quickly found Natasha again. Jo could tell the girl was enjoying the attention more than she should. Jo should be glad that Harry wasn’t going to get his memory back, but what she was feeling was the opposite; she didn’t want Y/N to get hurt.

“Will the King and Queen be joining us?” Harry asked.

“No. They’ve got more important things to do.”

“Because of the protests?”

“We’re not discussing politics here,” Jo said quickly. Harry’s sudden interest in the protests reminded her that he could not be trusted. She flicked her two fingers for the four of them to follow, and as they walked deeper into the candlelit library, Harry and Natasha were already laughing at the back of the line. Jo clenched her fists and her jaw, feeling thankful that Y/N wasn’t here.

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Harry didn’t know what he was doing.

He flipped open the front cover of the third book and was met with the musty scent of burnt amber. They were supposed to read everything about the North mountain and folklore about a witch, her desperate search for the other half of her heart, and a lake made of tears that might or might not exist.

Jo had said that the Queen was looking for the lake, but she hadn’t mentioned what for. It was none of Harry's business anyway; he just wanted to finish this pile of books so he could get some sleep.

He’d been reading for two hours straight and his mind kept wandering to different places and he’d almost nodded off a couple of times. He rested his head on his knuckles and flipped another page, fighting the drowsiness that was taking over him. Suddenly, he felt something soft rubbing against his ankle and looked up to find the new maid grinning at him. He raised an eyebrow, his mouth curled when her foot nudged him under the table again.

Beside Natasha, Kenny was resting her head on Stefan’s shoulder and rocking their baby as Stefan read. Harry was trying his best not to wince. As if staying up so late to read stories weren’t boring enough, he had to do it with the girl he still loved and her husband, too.

He took a deep breath and decided to ignore the happy family as he picked up his book and moved to sit next to Natasha. Jo looked at him with an unpleasant expression which he also ignored. This whole night had been exhausting so he might as well have some fun on his own.

“Do you know why we’re doing this?” he asked Natasha in hushed tones, leaning in so close that their shoulders were touching. He could see her face turning red and suddenly thought of the Queen, not knowing why.

Natasha was quite the opposite of the Queen, who was undoubtedly beautiful but the sullen look on her face made her appear much older than nineteen. Natasha, on the other hand, looked young and playful and full of wonder, and she was pretty, too.

She told him she didn’t know more than he did, if not less, and that she could not wait for this to be over. “I thought my first task as the Queen’s maid would be more interesting,” she whispered to him. When her lips brushed his ear, he assumed it was on purpose. Not that he minded.

“Like what?” he asked, intentionally touching her arm with his knuckles.

“I thought I’d get to meet the Queen and braid her hair,” said Natasha. “I heard that she was the most beautiful girl in the land.”

Strange. Harry believed he’d heard this before. “She is,” he said. “I’ve met her.”

Natasha’s face brightened. “Really? What is she like?”

He tapped his chin with a finger, pouting as he glanced heavenward. “Very...queeny.”

His answer made Natasha giggle, and Jo immediately shushed them. Harry locked his lips with an invisible key and tossed it over his shoulder as Natasha tittered into her palm. Jo closed the book, hard, sending dust flying as she stood. She was just about to scold Harry when the door swung open and another maid rushed in. “Jo, the Queen was looking for you.”

“What for?”

The other maid shrugged. “She couldn’t find her dagger.”

A dagger? Harry flinched. Why does the Queen–

“Stay here. I’ll be right back,” Jo sighed as she put down the book. Before she left, she stabbed a finger at him. “Do not leave the room, Harry.” Then she and the other maid disappeared out of the door without an explanation.

Harry released a long sigh that got three sets of eyes turning to him. He waved for Kenny and Stefan to ignore him, and as the pair turned away, he whispered to Natasha, “Can you wake me up when she returns?”

He had no idea why he was so tired. Normally he wouldn’t fall asleep so easily at night, but right now his eyelids felt so heavy he couldn’t keep them open any longer.

“Sure,” Natasha said and playfully jutted out one shoulder. “You can rest your head here. I don’t mind.”

And he did. As soon as he closed his eyes, the smell of old books and her unfamiliar fragrance lulled him to sleep.

When Harry opened his eyes, he was standing in the castle corridor – the same one he’d been to in his dream the other night. There was no ceiling. Above him was a sky full of stars and the pale moonlight left long stripes of shadows on the floor. He tried a door on his right. It was locked. So was the next one. And the one next to it. All the doors in this hallway were locked. He called out, “Hello!” But all he heard was echoes of his own voice.

Nails dug into his palms, he wandered ahead. He kept on walking and walking and walking until the endless blackness began to clear like smoke. At the end of the corridor, he saw a crooked door. There was water leaking out from under it, drenching his bare feet. The water rose up to his knees, and the next thing he knew, he was swimming toward the door in desperation. He banged his fists against it and the door burst open. Water poured out, sending him rolling across the grass.

He pushed up onto his hands and knees to find that his clothes were dry again. And when he looked around, there was no door. He was standing on a hill. The air was cold. The sky was pink. There were still patches of snow here and there. He thought the scenes looked quite familiar, but he could not remember where he’d seen this before.

Suddenly, a hand grasped his wrist and he whipped around. The world rushed back in, and he saw Natasha staring at him with wide eyes.

He’d returned to the corridor, the real one. There were torches along the walls and Natasha’s skin felt hot against his cold skin.

“Where are you going?” Natasha asked and tugged at his arm. “And why are you so cold? Are you all right?”

“W-What happened?” he asked, still shivering.

“What happened? You suddenly stood up and left the room and I chased after you.” What? But the last thing he remembered was him falling asleep in the library. Did it mean he’d been sleepwalking? Since when did he sleepwalk? “You’re lucky all the guards had left their posts otherwise we’d be in big trouble.”

Harry blinked. “Why did they leave their posts?”

“A prisoner broke out of his cell,” Natasha said. “He snuck into the Queen’s chamber and took her dagger. It was the same man they’d captured from the attack. Have you heard of what happened at the border? The Queen nearly died. She was so brave. And the King–”

“Is she all right?” Harry cut her off. “Did the prisoner—”

“She’s all right,” Natasha replied, squinting her eyes, probably wondering why he was so concerned about the Queen. Harry didn’t know the reason, either. “When I crossed the few guards at the west wing, I heard them say that they’d caught the man then he killed himself in the throne room. It was insane! But it couldn’t have been worse than the massacre last year. Have you heard of it?”

Harry worked his jaw for a response, not knowing what to think let alone say. But Natasha didn’t seem to want his opinion.

“I’m sorry I frightened you,” she said, her voice softened at once. “Where are you going?”

“I-I thought I heard something.”

“Oh.”

As her gaze lingered on his lips and her fingers clutched his, Harry knew what she was going to do. And yet, he was shocked when she tiptoed and pressed her lips to his, kissing him softly and then with more passion. Why was a maid kissing him? Had everything he’d thought he’d known about the ladies in court been wrong? It didn’t matter anymore. Because when she pulled back, her moist lips parted and her cheeks flushed, staring into his eyes, all he wanted was for her to do it again. He’d been locked up and tortured by Calanthe for almost a year, and for the last couple of days, lonely, heartbroken and disoriented, not knowing who he was and whom to rely on. He didn't need more reasons to want someone.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the first moment I saw you,” Natasha confessed.

Harry stared at her, then muttered, “Fuck this,” and drew her in by her waist. They couldn’t hang him for kissing a girl, right?

Stumbling through the nearest unlocked door they could find, he kissed her against it before she pushed him back until he tumbled into a chair, and she got onto his lap, straddling him. Just as she reached for his belt, the door flew open and their heads shot to it. Harry’s blood ran cold when the light washed over him.

“You don’t have to check on me every two sec—” Y/N’s mouth froze midsentence. She stood rigid in the doorway, gaping at Harry and Natasha, who leapt out of the chair and away from each other. Natasha frantically fixed her hair while Harry adjusted his clothes.

“Please tell me you didn’t do it on my bed,” Lance groaned. It was only then that Harry realized they were standing in the King’s chamber. With all the guards missing, they couldn’t tell which were the rooms they were not allowed to enter.

“Who are you?” Y/N snarled at Natasha. Harry supposed she must be very angry right now. He didn’t know about the rules in court, but there must be one that forbade kissing in the King’s bed-chamber.

“My-my name is...Natasha...Your Majesty.” Natasha hung her head as she curtsied clumsily. “I-I’m your new maid.”

Lance eyed the girl up and down, his face as cold as ice. “Get your things. You're leaving in the morning.”

“Your Majesty, please!” Natasha cried.

Harry didn’t think when he stepped forward and blurted, “It was my idea. Please...don’t dismiss her from court. She admires the Queen and she really wants to serve her.”

For the first time since Harry had met Y/N, he finally got to see the resentment in her eyes as she looked at him. She hadn’t even looked at him like that after he’d tried to kill her. Her bottom lip quivered and her face was red. Lance seemed as cool as ever, but something shifted in his expression as if he was counting down the seconds until the Queen burst into flame. Harry thought she might, but then she said, quietly, “Get out. Both of you.”

Harry was stiff whilst Natasha wasted no time to bolt as she was afraid they’d have her head on a plate if she stayed for too long. That was when Harry saw it. The Queen’s torn sleeve and the bandage around her right arm, dark red blood spreading through it. The prisoner had probably given it to her. Something told Harry it wasn’t the physical pain that he saw in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said. The words felt useless, sucked dry by the cold air as soon as they left his lips.

He bowed to the King and Queen and was just about to leave when Y/N stopped him. “We’ve arranged a room for you,” she said. There was no more warmth in her gaze. “You can stay there tonight instead of in the dungeon. There’ll be guards outside your door. Don’t cause any trouble and they’ll keep you safe.” Her stone-cold expression wavered him, and he wasn’t sure if he should thank her or apologise again. “When everything’s gone back to normal here in the North,” she added, “you’ll be free to leave.”

With that, she waved him out of the door. He walked backwards until he was in the corridor and the King shut the door in his face. For a reason he could not explain, he felt a new sensation throbbing in his chest.

.

.

.

Harry lay awake in his new bed until early hours, and when he finally fell asleep, he dreamed again. He’d returned to the corridor and nearly drowned this time before he made it through the door and stood high and dry on the same hill.

There was no Natasha to wake him up, so he followed a pink butterfly, chasing it down the hill until he reached a cliff. The icy wind suddenly changed direction and sailed over him, cooling his face and limbs. He started walking toward the cliff. His footsteps felt so light as if the wind was carrying him. A girl was standing with her back to him, her long white dress billowing, her hair floating in the air.

“Peach?” the word slipped out of his lips.

The girl turned around. Another wind churned up, fierce and mean. Y/N was only wearing her nightgown. Was she not cold? He hurried forward, reaching out his hand to grab her and pull her back before she lost her balance on the edge. But no matter how fast he ran, he couldn’t reach her.

“Peach! Stay right there! Do not move! I'm coming!” he heard himself calling.

“Harry, I’m cold,” she said softly, and somehow he could hear her from that long a distance.

“I’m coming for you!” His voice was broken, growing more desperate, fading into the howling of the wind. The pink sky had grown dark and the trees were rattling. Heavy snow and dry leaves whirled all around him, making it hard for him to locate her. He shielded his eyes with one arm and tried to walk against the wind.

“Harry, don’t come near me.”

“Peach, let me help you. I’ll keep you safe.”

“No,” she whispered. “You’ll only kill me.”

“Peach!” Harry screamed and jumped forward as Y/N spread her arms like a butterfly and let gravity pull her under. When his body hit the ground, it wasn’t grass, soil, or snow; it was a stone floor. He wasn't hurt, yet he was freezing. He put his arms around himself, shuddering as he rose to his knees then to his feet.

Moonlight allowed him to observe his surroundings. He was in the King’s bed-chamber once again. He and the Queen. She stood by the window, the moon illuminating a side of her face. She was wearing a broken smile.

“Peach, you’re safe,” he heard himself say.

Y/N didn’t speak.

And that was when he saw the knife-hilt on the left side of her chest. Blood was pouring out of the wound, and still, she was smiling. His ears began to ring as if a memory wanted to push to the surface.

Then his eyes peeled open and he jolted upright, gasping for air, wild eyes searching for the Queen, but he was alone and the glow of the fire reassured him that he wasn’t dreaming anymore. There was no time for rational thoughts. He jumped out of bed, still shaking from the cold even though the windows were shut and the fire hadn’t died out. He shoved his feet into his boots and staggered toward the door.

.

.

.

“You were right,” Y/N said, hugging her knees to her chest and rubbing her eyes as the smoke from the fireplace made them water.

Lance was sitting beside her, one leg stretched, the other bent. He was sharpening his knife and had been doing it for so long that it might just be sharp enough to cut metal. She assumed he was just doing it to keep himself awake; he wouldn’t fall asleep before her.

“About what?” he asked, the sound of metal sliding against metal stopped, and silence ensued.

She released a breath she’d been holding. “Harry.” It was hard to say his name now; she’d just remember what she’d seen earlier right in this room. “I don’t think he’ll ever come back. I think...even if we’ve found the lake and stopped the potion from killing him, he might not remember me.”

Lance hmmed and then said, “So are we still looking for the lake?”

She tore her eyes from the flame to meet his. “I don’t want him to die. I still want him to be cured, even if it means he’ll leave me then.”

Lance rubbed his hands over his face and pushed back his messy black hair. “Fuck,” he muttered, making her giggle.

“I know what you’re thinking," she said, then faked his deep voice, “This girl is so stupid, risking her life for someone who wouldn’t do the same for her.”

But Lance didn’t laugh. “No,” he whispered. “I would have done the same for Daliah.”

Things he wanted to say, but couldn’t, stirred behind his eyes, and her heart clattered. “Lance–”

A few urgent knocks sounded on the door, cutting her off. Y/N braced herself for more bad news as she picked up the shawl resting on the foot of her bed, wrapped it around herself. Lance trailed after her, already lifting his blade.

She pulled the door open and her eyes went round. “Harry?”

Harry’s shoulders sagged in relief the second he saw her. “You’re alive,” he panted, which only made her more confused.

Lance rolled his eyes. He told her that he’d wait and went back inside so she and Harry could talk. One of the two guards finally released Harry’s arm and said, “We’re so sorry to disturb you, Your Majesty. But he threatened to cut his own wrist if we didn’t take him to see you.”

Y/N flinched. “Was he carrying a weapon?”

The guards exchanged looks.

"Did you even check him?"

They shook their heads hesitantly.

Harry scoffed, “You really should find new guards. Sorry, gentlemen.”

One of the guards growled. Y/N narrowed her eyes at Harry and his mouth snapped shut. Then she asked the guards to let her speak to him alone.

“Let me guess,” she sighed, folding her arms over her chest. “You saw a rat in your room and you want to switch to a larger room? This isn’t an inn.”

“No, no, no,” he said quickly, “I just…” and sighed, “I just wanted to check on you.”

“Why?”

He worked his jaw, yet words didn’t come out. Something was wrong and he didn’t trust her enough to tell her. Why was he here then? Had he not messed with her head enough?

“H-How’s your arm?” he asked. She squinted her eyes. “I saw...um...I saw that you were hurt...earlier. You were bleeding.”

“Oh.” She swallowed dryly. “I’m fine. Thank you. Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“Next time wait until morning to talk to me if it’s not something important.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she said and waved for the guards, but Harry quickly stopped her, “Actually!”

Her hand froze in the air, and she signalled for the guards to give her another moment. “Yes?”

Harry scratched the back of his head. “I also...I also want to apologise for earlier. I don’t know the rules here but I suppose I’ve broken plenty.”

She took some time to look at him, his face a sharp contrast of light and dark shadows. He was heartbreakingly handsome and...familiar. The strain in the air between them softened at last, even if only just a little.

“Well, you’ve been through a lot and...I guess you need time to get used to life in court,” she said, her heart stuttering in her chest. “Don’t worry. I will keep my promise and send you back home as soon as it’s safe to travel again.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said and smiled when she didn’t. “Should I still call you Peach? Or is it too weird now?”

Y/N felt a sinking weight in her chest and she didn’t ignore it this time. How many times had he fooled her into believing he still cared about her? How many times had he proven that she’d been wrong? She’d been chasing shadows within these walls. It was time to accept that they were nothing but illusions of the man he used to be, the man she’d lost.

“You should call me Your Majesty,” she said. “You’re right. It feels weird considering the situation we’re in.”

“Oh.” His gaze slipped from her and fell to the floor. Silence sank over them. The corridor felt too quiet.

“Goodnight,” she said.

“Goodnight,” he said. “Your Majesty.”

She waved for the guards and stepped back into her chamber. His shadow wavered underneath her door for another moment, and then vanished.

[fatkatluvr]

Sadness

I don’t really know how to go about this. I’ve just been having this wave of depression consistently crash over me. I crave to find readings, blogs, stories, anything that relates to what it is I’m feeling right now. Finding someone else's pain and sorrow to accompany mine because it really is true what they say about misery loving company. You know how some people crave adrenaline, and nicotine and what not? That gutted, wrenching feeling you get in your heart when you come to true realization no one loves you is what I crave. It feeds into this dark dark part of my soul that truly believes no one will ever come to truly and unapologetically love me. I’ve spent so much of my life alone, unwanted, never made a priority, I just believe that is how the rest of my life is going to be. 

It’s a suffocating emotion. This gutted feeling. It makes you feel warm and full but so empty and hard to breathe or catch your breath. I haven’t ever been made number 1 in someones life. Never my parents, my friends, my significant others, and the older I get, by myself. I have spent so much of my time trying to heal others wounds that I’ve let myself bleed out so many times. I stopped doing that.. I turned cold and distant. I turned into a toxic bitch. I got help. I’ve come to the realization of a lot of things in my life. The things that made me so so so unhappy. I was the root of all of them. I changed that, I apologized to those I wronged, and I changed my outlook. I overall think I am a phenomenal woman. But I am unloveable. I will never take your breath away, I will never stop time with my arrival where it’s just you and I in the room. And even if I do come to find someone who enjoys playing with me, kissing me, watching movies behind closed doors past 9pm in their bedrooms, I won’t be the one they choose to want to settle with. I am loud, I am dominant, I am crude, I am vulgar, I am sarcastic, I am childish, I am mature, I am me. I crave that emotion I described earlier, I know these things to be true and that emotion basically solidifies exactly how I feel and that it’s “true”? I can’t describe it exactly. I am trying my best. 

My last relationship was a failure from the beginning. I know there were many, many things he needed to change and/or could’ve done to make me feel less “crazy” but I know towards the end I was the awful person. I ran away to Ireland only to find heartbreak, to find friends who ended up leaving me, to find romance that burned out faster that the flame was ignited, and came home empty handed. No money, and nothing to show of my time spent there. No friends, no second family, no nothing. The people I did try to hold onto I only brought anxiety, and annoyance. They’re now living a thriving life that I am no part of or allowed to be near. And it does hurt. It hurt to be told “When I see your name pop up on my phone it makes me feel really anxious and scared.” Here I though being a loud brassy person was a good thing, I only brought discomfort to those I wanted to bring comfort to. Past relationships we were close then turned toxic, and friends took way bigger priority and the family was number 1 always, which I can understand I just wasn’t even number 2. 

People feel very safe around me because I am not afraid to tell my story and be open about the sorrows of my past. As soon as I am done tying the tourniquet on their heart and healing their wounds, the “real” friends are there and I am completely forgotten about. Left in the corner to collect dust until something happens that I need to be picked back up again. When night comes and I sit in my room alone, I cry to myself. I cry because I want so badly to be hugged and held and just loved. I want a hug that lasts for hours. I want a hug that just feels golden and that can heal my heart. I crave romance and I intimate moments I know will never come. When I do meet a man and after we’re intimate I just want to be held but hold myself back and get up and leave. The last time I had sex with someone I kept it together then I got outside their front door and turned to say bye to them slamming the door in my face. I remember telling myself “Wait till you’re in the car, wait till you’re in the car, wait till you’re in the car” I sobbed. Hard. The next time I spent way too long at their place not wanting the spell to end, and as soon as I left and turned to ask where the elevator was again I heard the locks turning. Never a “I’ll walk you to your car” or “Text me when you get home safely!” no texts, or calls the next day. Just me alone. Them going on the continue their lives as I was just a mere satisfaction for them. I know people who find love and attraction like they find dust under their desks. It’s everywhere. I just don’t understand how I can’t find it for me. 

I am embarrassed of myself. And feel the looks when I show up and they get a closer look and feel bad for them I’m there and they’re with me. I don’t ever get asked to go out. I don’t get asked on dates, or to be taken somewhere. I don’t get told “I just want to see you smile” or “Your laugh is incredible” or “I love your smile” so I just keep it short, sweet, and to the point. When I do put in the effort, it means nothing. I get ghosted like the wind changes directions. Every time nearly. I stopped caring if they haven’t texted me for a day, a week, or anything longer than that. I used to catch myself saying “Well isn’t it weird?! You should care! It’s normal to care because what they’re doing isn’t normal!” Now when I do notice, I say nothing, I know if someone truly wanted to know ME, and get to know what makes me.. well me, they would put the effort in. But I’m not a girl you put the effort into. I’m just Alex. I add nothing to anyones life. I am a fidget toy until you learn to control yourself, and find good things to add to your life. I’m the spinner you’re obsessed with for a hot second and then as soon as you get a hold of me you’re bored and satisfied and back into the drawer I go. 

My younger sister is someone people gravitate towards. So is my younger brother. I was never that person. Not even they like me. My mom doesn’t and I'm sure my dad puts up with me occasionally when he has time. The only thing that stops me from killing myself is that I'm lazy and indecisive. I don’t know what comes after your heart stops beating. Is the pain gone? Am I taken somewhere that’s my version of paradise? They say “heaven” is the happiest time in your life. And for most that’s being with a certain someone. What if I get to “heaven” and for me the happiest time of my life was with my ex who passed, but I wasn’t the happiest time of his? Will I then have to spend my afterlife alone as well? What if I am unloved in life and in death? My cats don’t even love me. Are you telling me there is no end to my loneliness? I don’t want to spend my souls entirety feeling this empty. 

I want to ignite a fire in someones belly that engulfs their entire being. I just want to be someones person. I know people are capable of feeling a fire consume their being when they’re with their person. I just feel that that will never be me. And that terrifies me. 

[chroniclackofselfpreservation]

Creatures of the Night

Chapter 3 - dark though it is

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AO3

Masterlist

(no TW for this chapter, if there’s something you want a warning for, please message me)

(The title of the chapter comes from “Thanks” by W. S. Merwin)

Logan glared at the mug of coffee before him, his elbows propped on the counter and his fingers laced together. He couldn’t get the image of Roman coming home earlier this morning out of his head. Logan had known for a while—going on two months, five days, seven hours, and forty minutes ago. Roman told him there was nothing he could do; the curse was irreversible according to Ursula's letter. Forget the fact that he was risking his life every single day, because Roman had that stupid amulet that supposedly negated all of his fatigue and injuries once removed, as if that also negated any worry that Logan endured. What would happen if the chain snapped, or it fell off while he was fighting? What then?

“Is something bothering you, kiddo?” Patton asked, sliding onto the stool next to him. Logan blinked and muttered something about nuclear fission and thermodynamics, something to keep him oblivious. It would break Patton to see what was happening to Roman, Logan was sure of it. He already took care of the three of them; he didn’t need something else to keep him up at night. Patton didn't seem too convinced of the evasion, but didn't push the issue any further. Instead, he pushed a bowl of cereal and a plate of orange slices toward him.

"Eat up, Logan. Can't be missing out on all that Vitamin Yes."

"What are you talking about?" he said around a mouthful of Cheerios. "Oranges contain Vitamin C, along with minerals like thiamine, folate, potassium, and—wait, was that a pun?"

"Vitamin C is Spanish for Vitamin Yes!" Patton giggled, dancing away from Logan before he could smack him with his spoon.

"That doesn't even make sense! You can't—"

"Come on, Lo! It was funny!"

"—isn't even spelled the same. C is a letter, not a word! Linguistically, they are completely diff—"

"Virgil! Help!" Patton cried from behind the couch and dissolved into a fit of laughter. Logan looked up, still brandishing his cereal spoon like a weapon. Virgil stood at the base of the stairs looking tired. A hint of a smile graced his face at their antics and he shrugged.

"Don't look at me."

It wasn't long before Patton surrendered, allowing Logan a victory tap with the spoon, and returned to preparing breakfast. The oven beeped, alerting them all that the chocolate chip muffins were done. Virgil lowered onto a stool next to Logan, resting his chin on his hand.

"Were you out in the living room last night?"

"What?"

"Last night, I heard someone walking around and voices and stuff. I assumed it was you just studying and talking to yourself, but if it wasn't you... it must be a ghost," he said with a grin.

"A what?" Patton yelped.

"That's preposterous. Don't listen to him, Patton. Yes, I was up last night, but it's nothing to concern yourselves with."

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Patton said, putting his hands on his hips. "You boys need your sleep. If you two keep this up, I'll have to charge you with resisting a rest."

Virgil squinted at Patton, "I don't get—oh, wait. Arrest. But, like, with a space. That's pretty good, Patt."

"I'm getting really tired of this," Logan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Virgil snorted and Patton beamed.

Logan tensed, pointing a warning finger at Patton who squeaked, "I guess you could say we're... exhausting?"

"I swear—" The stairs creaked and they all looked up. Roman rubbed his eyes and yawned as he descended the last few steps, his hair wet and noticeably not matted down with demon blood. He opened his eyes and froze, smiling nervously.

"Why are you all staring? I mean, I know I'm handsome and all that, but really, control yourselves."

Patton smiled, arranging another plate of oranges. "Good morning, Roman. How did you sleep?"

"Well, thank you—Ooh! Chocolate chip muffins?"

"They're still hot! Hands off!"

Virgil sniffed and pulled the sleeves of his jacket halfway over his hands. "Speaking of hot, did you enjoy taking all of the hot water this morning?"

Logan stiffened and glanced at Roman, but he just scoffed, "It isn't my fault it takes time to look this good, Virgil."

"I just don't understand why you have to shower for an entire hour. Our water bill's going to be through the roof."

Logan's brows knit together, "It's a piece of paper, Virgil. How would it be through the roof?"

"Play nice, guys," Patton said, pulling the oven mitt off his hand and sticking a toothpick down the center of one of the muffins. It came out clean.

"So, Logan gets to lecture me about wasting electricity and leaving the lights on, but when Princey over here takes his sweet time—" Virgil ranted, stopping short when Roman's spoon clattered out of his hand and back into his bowl. Virgil paled, a mortified look on his face. Logan looked between them, racking his brain for a quick solution. Virgil might not know the reasons behind Roman's reaction, but he would definitely recognize it for what it was; he was the most anxious of them all. Truth be told, Logan didn't know what had set Roman off either, but if he didn't change the subject soon, they might start asking questions neither of them were prepared to answer.

"Er, Patton!" he blurted, "How would you like to have a picnic for lunch today?" If anything would distract him, it was a picnic. Summer was almost over, and he'd been begging the rest of them to do one before it got too cold.

Patton gasped, "Really?"

Logan shot a meaningful look Roman's way. "Of course. I don't start teaching for another few weeks and Virgil, you're working a grave again tonight, aren't you? I think we could all use a nice relaxing picnic, don't you think? Guys?"

Patton began removing muffins from the metal tin. "We could have sandwiches, and I could cut up some watermelon! I'll have to go shopping later and pick some up. I think I saw some at Mia's for a dollar-fifty," he rambled.

"That sounds nice," Roman said, another spoonful of cereal hovering indecisively between the bowl and his mouth. Virgil opened his mouth, then closed it, biting his bottom lip and pushing away from the counter. Patton turned around with a plate of fresh muffins. His look of content devolved into confusion as Virgil slunk back up the stairs. A bit of an overreaction in Logan's opinion, he didn't think any of them had seemed angry at him, but he wasn't the best at predicting Virgil's reactions.

"What happened?" Patton asked, setting the plate of muffins down. Roman grabbed three, apparently relocating his appetite.

"Nothing," Logan assured him, "I'm sure he'll be fine."

"These are amazing, Padre," Roman said, his voice muffled by the sweet cake.

Patton smiled softly, his eyes fixed on the empty stool where Virgil once sat. "I think I'm going to have a little chat with Virge." He took a single muffin from the plate and excused himself. Logan watched him go, then turned his eyes on Roman, who was stuffing the third muffin into his mouth.

"Care to explain what happened a minute ago?" he asked, standing and carrying his now empty cereal bowl to the sink—well, empty except for the milk. Logan hated drinking cereal milk from a bowl.

"Not really," Roman said, opening the fridge and looking through the contents. He swallowed and cleared his throat. "Sweet cheese and crackers, I'm starving. Are these your leftovers? Can I have them?"

"If you tell me what Virgil said to upset you."

"Fine, I guess I'll find something else, then," he said, the playful edge to his voice sharpening. He grabbed the carton of milk and poured himself a glass. Logan watched as he looked through the pantry in tense silence, eventually settling on the jar of peanut butter and a spoon. Not the healthiest breakfast, but Logan wasn't about to call him out on it. Roman sat down on the couch, furiously eating his peanut butter. Logan leaned against the counter, unsure what to do. Patton would know. Of course he would, he always did. Oh, how Logan wished he could tell him what was going on, but he knew as well as Roman that it would tear him up inside.

                                              * * * * * * * * * *

"All right, is everyone ready to go?" Roman asked, basket full of lunch fixings hanging off the crook of his arm. Patton beamed and Logan looked around, nodding as he made a silent double-check. Virgil avoided his eye, playing with the strings on his jacket. Roman felt bad. He hadn't meant to react so visibly, but when Virgil had called him Princey, his mind had immediately flooded with images of a giant demon serpent. He knew he sang, loved Disney, and could even be grandiose at times—it was kind of his thing. Many people had compared him to a prince in the past, so Virgil making the connection wasn't exactly suspicious. Now, however, the word had turned sour from fear. Terror had dyed it an ugly color, and he couldn't get it out. He certainly didn't blame Virgil for what happened, but was at a loss for what to say without inviting more questions about it.

"Looks like it! Let's go!" Patton said happily, marching into the garage and clambering into the truck. Logan grabbed a thick blanket for them to sit on. Roman followed Patton with a smile, sliding into the driver's seat as the other two piled into the back.  

The drive was nice. Patton played songs from his favorite playlist, made jokes so bad they were hilarious, and gave Roman gentle directions on when and where to turn. Apparently, he knew of a spacious meadow just perfect for a picnic. Wakeby wasn't very large, so he was interested to find out where it was. Near the forest, no doubt. Roman attempted to swallow the lump forming in his throat. The last thing he wanted to do during the day was spend time looking at the forest. It surrounded Wakeby on all sides, parting only slightly to allow the interstate to pass through town. Roman had tried entering the forest in different places to try and avoid running into the demon, however, the longer it took him to get into the trees, the more painful the curse became. Eventually, he'd settled for entering in the same place and just dealing with whatever the snake had up its sleeve. Not that snakes had sleeves, but you get the point.

Pulling off the road onto a patch of gravel, Roman put the truck in park and pulled out the key.

"You weren't kidding, Pat," Virgil said, gazing out the window. He was right, the meadow was gorgeous, hidden behind the movie theater. Roman couldn't have said if he'd been there before or not. Wakeby looked different with the sun shining. Nearly bouncing with excitement, Patton hopped out of the truck with the basket on his arm. They eventually found a place to set up. Roman found himself experiencing a silent, internal dilemma as he tried to decide whether he wanted to sit facing the forest, or with his back to it. If he turned his back to it, he'd be paranoid the entire time about not being able to watch for danger, and yet, if he faced it, he wouldn't be able to stop glancing over, watching for the glint of golden scales. Come to think of it, Roman had never seen the serpent during the day. This was mostly due to the fact that he avoided the forest like the plague during the only time he had away from it. It was curious, though, what the demon did with the rest of its day. Surely, Roman wasn't the only person to ever enter the forest in Wakeby, right? If so, how come no one had noticed the enormous snake squatting there? Could it leave the forest? Did it stay that big, or just turn into a normal snake?

Hopefully, I'll never have to find out, Roman thought, finally deciding to sit facing the trees. Patton handed out the sandwiches and watermelon, and Roman enjoyed himself. Truly and thoroughly enjoyed the time he got to spend with his roommates. Strange, how not knowing if you'll come home alive every night changes a person's perspective on what's important. He'd easily give up any chance at a college education if it meant getting to see all of his friends achieve their goals before... you know. He died. So, wanting to make the absolute most of however much time he did have left, Roman proposed a game of frisbee. Logan and Virgil politely declined, but Patton whole-heartedly agreed, running to the truck and retrieving the plastic disk from under the back seats.

                                              * * * * * * * * * *

Logan watched Roman and Patton throw the frisbee back and forth, the faintest of smiles on his face. Patton made up increasingly ridiculous names for the "special throws" he performed, and Roman was laughing so hard he couldn't catch the frisbee—which only made him laugh harder. Virgil seemed the only one in a dour mood.

"Virgil?"

"Hm?" he looked up from picking at the leftover crusts of his sandwich.

"I...I'm sorry, if you felt attacked at breakfast. That was not my intention," Logan said, placing his hands in his lap awkwardly. He wasn't the best at apologies.

Virgil shrugged, giving a half-smile. "Nah, it's okay. I just... felt bad, you know? I don't really like dealing with conflict, and I know it's a bad habit and all that, but it just makes me really nervous. Nothing against you or Patton."

Logan sat up. "Do you have any idea why Roman reacted the way he did?" He doubted it, as Virgil didn't know about Roman's escapades as of yet, but there was a slight possibility it was having to do with something else.

Virgil stiffened. "Uh, no. I—I don't." He went back to picking at his bread. Roman had mentioned something about Virgil acting different since the summer, and at first Logan had written it off as nothing, just Virgil being Virgil. He was always like this after visiting his parents—an uncommon occurrence, for sure, but each summer since they'd all met, Virgil had stolen away into the wilderness to spend time with them regardless of how it affected him when he returned. But this "funk", as Roman put it, was going on a little longer than normal.

Logan went quiet for a moment, thinking. After a moment, he pulled out the book he'd brought along with him and said, "Would you like me to read aloud for a bit?" He knew that Virgil found the activity calming, and hoped it would help somewhat

His eyes lightened and he looked up. "What book is it?"

"Rhetoric and Logic. It's actually quite interesting."

Virgil snorted and reclined onto his back, lacing his hands behind his head. "All right, then."

Logan read to him. It was something he wouldn't have done given usual circumstances. Most people didn't care about the things that Logan found interesting. Virgil, on the other hand, found it calming and would ask him to read aloud whenever he was feeling anxious. Logan had read the book before many times, and found his mind wandering as he read. He could still hear Roman and Patton's game going on in the background. It made him glad to see Roman enjoying what free time he was allowed. Logan had been researching everything he could find on demons, curses, and dragon witches. So far, all he'd found were children's stories and folktales. There were many myths and legends about serpents and demons that took their shape, but from the details Roman had given him about it, there was nothing written about his specific opponent. The closest things Logan had found to Roman's curse were punishments mortals received after death.

If anyone was living hell, it was Roman.

They went on like this for nearly half and hour before Roman and Patton grew tired and returned to the blanket. Logan put his book away, and they all talked about anything and everything. Logan would be lying if he said he didn't notice Roman glancing over at the tree line every few minutes, but it would also be false to ignore the lack of tension in his shoulders, the ease with which he smiled, and the genuine laughter bubbling out of his throat. Even Virgil had relaxed and inserted himself into the conversation more.

Eventually, they cleaned up lunch, and all lay back on the blanket watching the sky.

"So, is college just like how it is in the movies?" Roman asked. "You're the only one of us who's actually gone to school on a campus."

"What do you mean?" Logan looked over at him.

"You know, frat boys, and sorority girls, and parties, and stuff," he said, gesturing vaguely with his hands.

Logan looked back up at the partly cloudy sky. "Yes, they exist, if that's what you're asking." He paused. "I even attended one of those so called 'frat parties'."

Virgil choked. "You what?"

Roman sat up, a mischievous grin on his face. "I can't believe it. Logan was a frat boy."

Logan reddened, "I was not one of them, you heathens. My attendance was a singular, accidental event."

"Sure, Lo," Patton muttered, hiding his laughter behind his hand.

"You all are blowing this way out of proportion, it wasn't—"

"Did you drink anything? Wait, did you get drunk? Oh, I would pay money to see you drunk, teach," Roman laughed.

"Of course not, I only had... a few drinks. I think," Logan trailed off, a look of genuine concern crossing his face.

Roman gasped. "Oh my heck, you got wasted, didn't you?"

"Guys..." Virgil muttered.

Logan propped himself up on his elbow. "I didn't pass out or anything, if that's what your insinuating."

"Just got a bit absinthe-minded?" Patton offered, and Logan ran a hand down his face and flopped back onto his back.

"Guys," Virgil repeated, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.

Roman glanced over, "Oh, come on Surly Temple, it wasn't that bad of a pun, even for you."

"No, my head..." Virgil managed, grabbing his head and curling in on himself. The group sobered. No pun intended. Logan met their eyes, and they both nodded. Another migraine. Virgil suffered from what Logan had called thunderclap headaches. They came on suddenly, at times without warning, and lasted about five minutes. They were extremely painful, from what Virgil had told them. As quietly as possible, Roman and Patton gathered up the blanket and picnic basket while Logan helped Virgil to his feet and across the meadow to Roman's truck. Patton shot Roman a concerned look, and he tried to give him a comforting smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. He was sad to have to cut their outing short, but he wouldn't dream of furthering Virgil's pain.

The drive home was silent, but not in a bad way. Virgil sat hunched over in the passenger seat, and Patton extended his seat belt as far as it would go and rubbed his back from the backseat. Roman drove as smoothly as he possibly could, and was just glad, for once, he wasn't the one having to be taken care of.

                                              * * * * * * * * * *

Three hours later.

"I'm just going to take a walk, I'll be back in a bit," Virgil called, already out the door. Stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, he hurried down the street toward the far edge of town. Once the houses and establishments had thinned, he ducked behind a fence, checked once more for any onlookers, then crouched down and muttered a quick phrase under his breath. His entire body thrummed with magic as he felt the familiar feeling of returning to his true form. Unlike most of the shows he watched on the others' television device, consistency with clothing wasn't a problem he faced. It simply shifted with him. He couldn't imagine having to constantly worry about leaving piles of empty clothes lying around, or shifting back completely naked. He shivered, the hair along the back of his spine prickling. Approaching a small puddle on the ground, he looked down.

Pointy ears? Check. Two eyes? Check. Whiskers still impeccably groomed? Check. The perfect image of a black cat. But of course, why wouldn't he be? He was a cat, originally, that is—though Ursula's magic had changed him from a normal feline into his current magical self who-knows-how-many years ago.

Being a familiar wasn't all that hard. Being a familiar who was defying their witch? That proved an entirely different matter.

Logan had attempted to diagnose the sudden, debilitating headaches he suffered without any warning with some human explanation. In reality, it was simply what happened when he resisted Ursula's connection to him. His decision to quit being her spy on Roman had been going on for about ten months now, not too long after Roman had been cursed. Needless to say, she wasn't too happy about it. Despite his resolve, every once in a while, she attempted to see through his eyes as she had used to. Defying someone as powerful as her was considered brave by few, and stupid by most.

Attempting to shake the thoughts from his head, Virgil leaped up onto the top of the fence and darted down it. After what had happened at the picnic, he'd become paranoid about the state of the protective "anti-Ursula" border he'd created around Wakeby and hadn't been able to sit still until he'd checked the runes. Ursula had destroyed them the first few times, but Virgil had proved persistent in his efforts to keep his friend safe, and she'd given up for the most part in her battle with him. She had what she needed.

Roman. His friend. His friend that he'd betrayed and then been too much of a coward to face the consequences. Roman, who hadn't done anything to deserve what he'd received simply because he existed. It wasn't his fault that his thrice great-grandmother had been the Witch Queen; the Chosen One. He hadn't asked for this. Neither had his mother before him. Virgil's stomach twisted at the thought of Roman ending up just like his mother, and yet there wasn't much he could do about it.

No. That was a lie. There wasn't much he was brave enough to do. Because he was a pathetic coward who would rather let his friend risk his life every single night than stand up to his witch. His mind dragged him back to that morning. He couldn't believe he'd actually given Roman a hard time about the shower. The truth was, Roman was an actor. An amazing one. So good, in fact, that Virgil often forgot about the curse. About being an imposter. When he was home, he was just a normal guy hanging out with his friends. Nothing more—or so he'd managed to convince himself.

He arrived at the dilapidated gas station at the far east corner of Wakeby, slinking around the back and swiftly locating the rune he'd carved into one of the white painted bricks. It looked largely untouched. Virgil quickly moved on, trotting down the side of the highway toward the next way point, mind rife with conflict and pain.

                                              * * * * * * * * * *

Later that night.

"Logan, I thought we'd already been over this," Roman sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I will not be going to bed without knowing you are safe, Roman. Arguing with me on the matter is futile," Logan replied, folding his arms.

He looked up at his roommate, exasperated but internally thankful. It was nice to know that someone cared if he came home each night or not. He shifted the sword in his grip and stepped toward the door. "All right, but you're going to bed as soon as I get back. Deal?"

"Satisfactory. Oh, and Roman?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I may have a way to locate a possible solution to your curse."

Roman froze with his hand on the door handle, his brain still trying to register what he said. "Don't say things like that," he breathed. His voice was soft, and scared to hope. "Don't promise me the impossible." He felt a hand on his armored shoulder.

"At least hear me out?"

The curse tugged at his insides, but he didn't move. He turned. "Fine."

Logan smiled. "Have you tried reasoning with this demon?"

Roman's throat constricted. "Reasoning with it? It's been trying to kill me every night for the last twelve months. How do you propose I reason with something like that?" he snapped. He didn't have time for this.

Logan didn't seem fazed in the slightest. "It can speak, yes?"

"Yeah, but I don't—"

"Does it have a name?"

Roman threw his hands into the air, "I mean, probably. I haven't really had time to ask it since it's been trying to kill me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go try not to die for the next six hours."

Roman turned back to the door and turned the handle. Logan grabbed his shoulder and flipped him around, pushing him back into the door. "Roman, you need to begin thinking objectively and listen to me. I'm trying to save your life. Trust me on this."

"It can't be reasoned with. It's a monster."

"Have you considered the possibility that it's just as cursed as you are?" Logan spat, and Roman fell silent. "That's what I'm saying. Yes, you two have your differences, I can't even begin to imagine, but you can't go on like this, Roman. You can't. You'll die."

Roman swallowed. "We all die, Logan."

"Don't quote facts at me, Roman Kingsley," he said shakily. Roman thought he could see tears pricking in his eyes, but couldn't have been sure. "Just promise me that you'll try. Please. If it doesn't work, I'll abandon the theory, but there's only one way to find out if it will work or not."

"Okay," Roman relented, though it drove a spike of fear straight through his heart. He'd be making himself vulnerable on purpose in front of a beast who wanted nothing more than his blood on its tongue.

"Good luck."

[minijenn]

Universe Falls, Chapter 70, Part 2

Alas, we’ve finally reached the end of arc 7! And its been along damn time coming too. And at the end of it we have a chapter that’s just... eh ok. Its fine. Nothing too special, but I like it well enough all the same and hope you do too. Enjoy!

***

Chapter 70, Part 2: In Too Deep

FCCDE JRUE, XGPR KQ EBW FSCVPH UHVV FCCDE YEVTF QHY TCY'N SGCDQCY AG XYG OUJDRVUD, XSGKVT DFWXTJ VSUL'L LFY JIM DRFY JIM'KI ZP EIG WIVR

“And Steven… we love you.”

Once again, Steven found himself awakening with a start, Garnet’s final gentle message all but lost on him as he abruptly jolted upright. The fact that he was back in a body of flesh and gem as opposed to watermelon barely registered when the only thing he could immediately feel was the ground violently rumbling beneath him.

“S-Steven!” Mabel’s startled gasp was only barely audible amidst the continuous earthquake. As the young Gem struggled to sit up, he glanced over to find her clinging tightly onto the one of the legs of the nearby drill in a meager attempt to keep herself steady. “W-what’s happening?! Did it work? Did they split Malachite up?”

Steven didn’t get a chance to answer as the chalkboard resting near the barn suddenly toppled over as a result of the resounding quakes, falling hard on top of both him and Mabel. Fortunately, Ford rushed in, barely managing to maintain his footing himself to pull it off of the startled pair. “Are you children alright?!” he called over the hectic din as he helped pull them both up. Knowing that they wouldn’t be heard anyway, Steven and Mabel both simply nodded, though all the same, Peridot was quick to interject from her spot right next to the drill.

“Good! Because if you two are done just sitting there, maybe its about time that we stop the world from ending!” she snapped, obviously frantic as she reached inside of the drill to make the very last few adjustments to it.

“It looks like the Cluster really is starting to emerge after all,” Ford explained gravely as he pulled out a small, continuously beeping device. “According to my pocket seismograph here, these earthquakes are getting stronger by the second. If we don’t hurry, the entire planet could tear itself apart in just a few mere hours!”

“Oh man, Malachite and the Cluster, both going crazy all in the same day?” Mabel frowned, aptly alarmed. “When it rains around here, it really does pour, huh?”

“What are you talking about? It’s not raining!” Peridot exclaimed, the expression completely lost on her. “And even if it was, that would be the least of our worries right now. Where are the others?”

“They’re stuck at the lake,” Steven informed, though he paused upon noticing the apprehensive, almost pleading look Mabel was sending his way. “B-but they’re fine! Everyone’s fine! They just have to find another way off the island.”

“Then we’ll just have to drill without them,” Ford concluded staunchly, though he did stop to take a brief glance around the area. “Wait, where’s Dipper? He should be coming with us. These quakes are making it far too dangerous for us to leave anyone behind.”

“Uh….” Mabel and Steven exchanged a wide-eyed glance at this, their cover for Dipper’s absence largely having worked up until now. But, when pressed for an actual explanation as to his whereabouts, Mabel in particular was hard pressed to give one, hence why she panicked instead. “…Who?”

“Dipper?” Ford raised a dour eyebrow. “Your brother?”

“Oh, him,” Mabel forced a grin, practically in a cold sweat by this point as she offered the first thing that came to her. “He… died.”

Ford’s already doubtful expression flattened even more as he turned to the young Gem instead. “Steven, where is he? Really?”

“Mmmm,” Steven took in an anxious breath, one that he was practically forced to let out as the ground aggressively trembled once more. “He snuck off with the Gems and Mr. Pines to the lake even after they told him not to so he could help split up Malachite and save Lapis!”

“What?!” Ford exclaimed, baffled by this quickly-spat out truth.

“B-but he’s ok!” Steven immediately reiterated. “They’re all ok, just like I said!”

“Which means we need to stop standing here wasting time!” Peridot cut in quite impatiently as she scaled the small ladder up to the drill’s cockpit. “Seriously, am I the only one who understands the meaning of teamwork around here?!”

“Peridot’s right,” Ford said, letting out an accepting sigh as he urged the kids to follow after her before doing so himself. “I’m sure Dipper, the Gems, and even Stanley will be fine out there. But none of us will be if we don’t put an end to the Cluster as quickly as possible.”

“So,” Peridot addressed the kids, her tone serious as she looked them both straight in the eye. “Steven, Mabel, are you ready to drill down into the planet to depths never before reached by your species to stop the Cluster before it forms and save your world?!”

“Uh, I-I don’t know!” Steven shook his head nervously.

“M-maybe?” Mabel shrugged just as indecisively. “C-can we have more time to think of a better answer?”

“No!” Peridot snapped. “Say that we’ll do it together and it’s gonna be great!”

“We’re gonna do it together and it’s gonna be great!” Steven and Mabel both repeated in the most earnest unison they could muster.

“Liars!”

“Ok, everything should finally be set,” Ford reported as he finished preforming the very last checks on the drill’s base. “It’s now or never. Ready or not, we have a mission to complete.”

Despite the fact that, as far as they knew, the odds stacked against them when it came to the Cluster were rather momentous, Steven and Mabel both opted to push their understandable fear aside in favor of the same sort of determination Peridot and Ford were carrying. And it was with that determination that they all piled into the drill’s cockpit, or as least as much as all four of them could given just how surprisingly small that cockpit was.

“Uh…” Steven frowned as they all squeezed in together. They were pressed so tightly up against each other that Mabel more or less had to sit on Ford’s lap just to fit while Peridot’s usually triangular hair was pressed flat to the side of the cockpit, not that she had even really noticed. “I don’t know if this is really gonna wor-”

“Too late! We’re already in, let’s go!” Peridot proclaimed, slamming the cockpit’s opening shut with a single press of a button. With another turn of the key, the drill’s engine roared to life, its tip starting to spin soon after.

“Everyone! Brace yourselves!” Ford called as he helped the green Gem copilot the machine they were both quite familiar with.

“Increasing speed!” Peridot thrust a lever forward, revving up the drill even more until finally, its tip not only struck the ground but pierced cleanly through it. Mabel and Steven watched in silent awe as the machine abruptly plunged downward, the blue skies and familiar greenery of the barnyard quickly giving way to the darkness of the earth below.

“Alright,” Steven said, his hands held in tight fists as he closed his eyes just as tightly. “Bracing for impact!”

“Actually, we have two more hours until we reach the Cluster,” Peridot pointed out as the whirling of the drill became uniform and quiet. “Approximately.”

“Whaaaaa?” Mabel asked, dumbfounded. “But I thought this thing was supposed to… ya know, boom! Bam! Take us right down to the Cluster so we knock it right out of the park and save everything!”

“And it will,” Ford assured, nodding to one of the drill’s tiny monitors, which showed a representation of the drill’s descent. “But we’ve only just barely breached the Earth’s crust. We’ll have to go through both the lithosphere and the asthenosphere, not to mention the mantle and the outer core before getting to the Cluster at the inner core.”

“That… sure does sound like a lot…” Steven said worriedly.

“It is a lot,” Peridot agreed. “But our drill is more than equipped to handle such an intense journey thanks to its titan’s ore outfitting and my expertly engineered design.”

“I think you mean Fiddleford’s expertly engineered design considering the fact that he was the one who engineered this,” Ford pointed out, sending the green Gem a critical look.

“Ugh, fine,” Peridot groaned begrudgingly. “Thanks to the Fiddleford’s design. Though my technological know-how certainly helped in at least 85% of the drill’s construction!”

“And the same goes for myself and Pearl as well,” the author remarked. “But you already knew that considering just how many times we’ve had to remind you of our contributions so far.”

“Augh! And you insist on going on about those contributions even still!” Peridot huffed, slightly annoyed. “T-though… I suppose I would have been… pretty hard pressed to put a machine of this caliber together all on my own so… I’m… grateful for the assistance.”

“Hmph,” Ford was unable to hold back a satisfied smirk at this. “And here I was thinking you’d never say it.”

“So, uh… does this thing have any windows we can open?” Mabel asked, tugging at the collar of her sweater a bit. “It’s getting super stuffy in here.”

“If we opened up any interior port in here, you three humans would suffocate almost instantly due to the intense pressure of the densely solidified rock all around us,” Peridot explained matter-of-factly. “So now. No windows.”

“Oh…” Mabel frowned, disappointed.

“So… two hours, huh?” Steven asked, already starting to get bored, a sentiment Mabel clearly shared with nothing but dark, endless earth to stare out at. “Wish we’d brought some tunes.” Peridot quickly complied with this request, pressing a button to play some surprisingly calming, but rather mundane music. “Uh… thanks,” the young Gem said, halfheartedly at this.

“What is this?” Ford frowned as he looked to the drill’s console. “Peridot, what did you do with the ‘Beethoven’s Best Hits’ disk I had loaded up in here?”

“Oh, that noisy tripe?” the green Gem scoffed. “I tossed it out. This music I found on the ‘interweb’ is much more pleasing to listen to.”

“Peridot, this is elevator music,” the author deadpanned. “And that was the best collection of classical music I’ve been able to find for quite some time now! Its scientifically proven to help stimulate mental facilities, improve focus, and-”

“And drive someone up the wall with all those whiny stringed instruments!” Peridot exclaimed in clear distaste. “Besides, this so-called ‘elevator music’ is much more fitting for the current situation.”

“Ohhhh yeah!” Mabel chimed in. “We could always just pass the time pretending we’re on a real elevator! Gooooing up!” She brightly raised her hand, only to realize that none of the others were playing along. “Or… I guess, going down, heh.”

A long beat of silence followed after this, largely as the result of everyone more or less running out of things to say. The elevator music continued to drone on just as much as the seemingly unchanging scenery of the crust’s uniform rocky layers, giving them no indication as to how far down they had gone or how close they were to their destination. The full weight of the task that awaited them at the distant core, as well as the very real possibility that they could indeed fail if things didn’t go off without a hitch, was only starting to hit them all amidst the lingering silence. And it was such a dreadful, horrific thought that Steven was quick to be the first of them to push his mind away from it in order to help the others do the same.

“It’s… kinda freaky down here, huh?” he asked the others generally.

“Why’s that?” Peridot asked.

“Its just dark and cramped and-” the young Gem groaned as he attempted to get comfortable without disrupting Ford or Mabel. “Augh, I can’t even stretch out.”

“See? See? That’s what I’m sayin’!” Mabel readily agreed. “Its so stuffy and tight in here! How were all of us and the rest of the Gems and Dipper supposed to all fit in here anyway?”

“I don’t know, they’d shrink or something!” Peridot huffed defensively. “We didn’t have a lot of time to plan.”

“To be perfectly honest, I don’t think the original plan was for all of us to go anyway,” Ford mused.

“So… what is the plan then?” Steven asked curiously.

Ford and Peridot both exchanged a serious glance at this, knowing that in the absence of the others, they were largely the ones left in charge of this mission. And rightly so too, given just how close to the development and construction of the very drill they were now piloting they had been from the very beginning. “We have a drill,” Peridot concluded succinctly. “We’re going to drill.”

“…Good plan!” Mabel remarked after a prolonged beat of silence. “Short and simple. I like it!”

“Oh! Everyone, get ready!” Ford announced as he happened to spot something of note on one of the console’s monitors. “We’re about to penetrate the asthenosphere!”

“The aesthetic-who now?” Mabel asked, confused, though she quickly got her answer. The entire drill jolted violently, rattling the small group aboard it as it finally broke free from the dense layer’s of the earth’s crust to breach into another layer altogether. One that offered a completely different view from the seemingly endless rounds of rock and soil they had been drilling through before.

“Whoa! It’s all lava!” Steven gasped, amazed at the bright orange magma now surrounding them on all sides as they continued plunging through it.

“Aha! The hull is holding up after all!” Ford exclaimed, satisfied by their relative safety. “Turns out that coating of titan’s ore would have been well worth the cost. That is, if we had actually ended up paying for it.”

“So, uh… just asking for a friend,” Mabel interjected casually. “If someone were to uh, get a whole bunch of titan’s ore from the local rich girl that said someone’s brother may or may not be totally crushing on and make really fancy sparkly suit outta all that, then… would that someone, oh, I dunno, be able to swim in lava?”

“…Hypothetically, yes,” Ford adjusted his glasses. “Though I doubt such a suit would be very buoyant, especially in lava.”

“Not that this even is lava in the first place,” Peridot interjected, nodding back towards the thick layer of molten rock they were still descending through. “Lava is what comes out of volcanoes. This is super-heated peridotite.”

“Peridot…ite?” Steven inquired, glancing over at the green Gem.

“Yeah,” Peridot grinned rather proudly. “It’s made of the same stuff as peridots.”

“Oh! So this peridotite stuff has a whole bunch of super-cute silly nerd vibes packed into it too?” Mabel asked curiously.

“Ye—no,” Peridot rolled her eyes as she corrected herself. “…Or at least I don’t think it does. Hm… That might be worth some future research….”

“So… you were made on Homeworld, right?” Steven asked the green Gem, to which she only tersely nodded. Her expression hardened as she kept her sights on the drill’s controls, and for once it didn’t really seem as though she had much to say until the young Gem prompted her onward. “…What was it like?”

“I didn’t exist,” Peridot said simply, looking to her own dim reflection in the cockpit’s visor. “Then I did. I don’t have memories of it. Just… feelings. I know I can never go back to Homeworld now but its… hard, not to have at least some feelings for where you came from…”

“Tell me about it…” Ford muttered quietly to himself, realizing just how much he could relate to the green Gem when he considered the salty, sun-soaked shores of his youth. Shores that he wasn’t sure he’d ever really go back to again.

Likewise, both Steven and Mabel were filled with equal sympathy for the clearly homesick green Gem, especially when they spotted the smallest spark of a tear welling up in her eyes. Tears that she was quick to wipe away as she forced herself to regain her composure in front of them. “B-but its fine! I’m fine. After all, I have something different now.”

“And what’s that?” Mabel asked.

Peridot hesitated, her cheeks lighting up in a bit of a flustered green blush. “You know… y-you… guys.”

“Aw, Peri!” Mabel gushed cheerfully, embarrassing the green Gem even more as she reached over to give her an unexpected hug. “You really do love us after all!”

While there had once been a time when Peridot would have immediately argued against such a claim, this time she didn’t. Instead, she simply accepted the fond embrace, doing so with a small, contented smile as she affirmed to herself once more that she’d give up everything she’d once known back on Homeworld a thousand times over all for the warmth and friendship she now knew.

The tender moment was all too soon interupted however as a sudden heavy thud rattled the entire cockpit. The shuddering noise persisted, seeming to grow louder and more frantic with every passing second, much to the growing alarm of the group listening in on it. “Uh, is that usually what lava—I mean peridotite sounds like?” Mabel asked with an anxious frown.

Before either Ford or Peridot could offer a more scientific explanation, an answer made itself apparent in a different form altogether. Namely, through a large, misshapen hand that suddenly slapped hard against the cockpit’s glass.

“Ah! It’s a Gem mutant!” Steven gasped, aptly startled.

“They must have buried some prototypes along with the Cluster!” Peridot chimed in, opting to press the drill further as a result of this sudden assault.

“Fascinating…” Ford mused as another leg and arm mutant latched itself onto the drill. “These so-called ‘mutants’ are surprisingly durable to be able to survive in an environment as hostile as this. Then again, they are already the shattered remains of gemstones, so I suppose any more external pressure wouldn’t do much to grind them down any further than they already are.”

“W-we don’t need to grind them down,” Peridot growled as she pressed a large button on the drill’s console. “We need to GET THEM OFF OUR DRILL!”

In response to the green Gem’s input, the drill’s wired external camera turned on, allowing the group to see exactly what was besetting their machine. Sure enough, a sizable handful of various Gem mutants had found their way to the drill and were clinging onto it tightly, trying their hardest to beat and tear their way inside it. “Pearl didn’t think it was necessary,” Peridot smirked, pulling out, of all things, a retro video game controller, which she proceeded to hand off to Steven. “But I never leave home without a blast canon.”

With another press of a button, Peridot managed to sync the controller up to the monitor showing off the mutants skittering atop the cockpit, offering crosshairs as an aiming guide for the canon that also rested on it. “Oo! That one! Shoot that one first!” Mabel exclaimed, pointing at one mutant that was starting to get far too close to the camera for comfort. Steven did so, easily getting the hang of the game-like controls to take aim and fire at not just the first mutant, but several others in quick succession. The canon wasn’t quite powerful enough to poof the mutants entirely, but it was enough to blast them clean off the drill, sending them flying out into the vast layer of peridotite all around them until thy were out of sight altogether.

While Mabel was all but completely caught up in the excitement of defending the drill from the potential harm the mutants could cause it, Steven didn’t quite share the sentiment, especially as he watched quite a few of them go flying. He understood well that they couldn’t very well let these mutants impair their path to the Cluster, but even still, he couldn’t shake the thought that these monsters had once been Gems themselves. They had once been like Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl, Peridot; they had been more than the mindless, broken, muddled states they had been reduced to now. Which was why the more of them he unintentionally hurt, the more guilty about it he steadily started to feel.

“S-something isn’t right about this…” Steven finally voiced his concerns as he lowered the controller somewhat.

“Then use the d-pad,” Peridot suggested obliviously.

“Or better yet,” Ford grinned as he hovered a finger over yet another one of the console’s buttons. “Use this!”

The moment the author pressed that button, the drill’s entire exterior illuminated itself in what almost appeared to be a burst of blinding lightning. The shock was more than enough to not only stun the attacking mutants, but completely destabilize their messily-cobbled forms, ending the assault altogether as the remaining shards were lost to the mantle entirely.

“W-what was that?!” Peridot asked, looking to the author completely dumbfounded. “And when did you add it to the drill!”

“Oh, its nothing too special, just a simple destabilizing hyperfield,” Ford explained proudly. “Designed it myself when I realized that the likelihood of our trip down here being completely uneventful was extremely low.”

“Hmph, showoff,” Peridot grumbled. “Just for the record, I-I could have designed something like that too! Not that we even needed it since my blast canon worked just as well in getting rid of those grotesque pests…”

“T-they’re not grotesque!” Steven suddenly interjected firmly. “They’re just… they’re… augh!” Frustrated, the young Gem leaned back in his seat, briefly meeting Mabel’s worried glance before he continued. “We can’t just leave their Gems out there. They’re going to form again later and they’ll still be just as lost and confused as before. If I could just bubble them, then they’d be safe!”

“Aw, Steven…” Mabel glanced aside with growing guilt herself at this. “I… didn’t really think of those guys like that until now… I guess they are sorta Gems too. Which means we should do something to try to help them! It’s only fair, right?”

“There is no helping them,” Peridot shook her head solemnly. “They’re too broken. The beings who used to be in those shards are so shattered, they don’t know who they are or what’s happening around them. They just seek out other Gems, looking for the missing pieces of themselves. Trying to make themselves whole.”

A beat of silence passed as yet another random mutant fell upon the drill, only for the destabilizing hyperfield to blast its twisted, mangled form out of existence altogether. “These early experiments only combine two or three shards,” Peridot continued, her tone still gravely serious. “The Cluster will be a billion times bigger. An inseparable fusion capable of destroying worlds, starting with this one.”

“Which is why we have no choice,” Ford added just as sternly. “We have to destroy it before it destroys us.”

Upon hearing this, Steven’s heart sank just as much as his stomach already had over their grim mission. In many ways, the Cluster was just like those poor, miserable mutants, only on a much grander, even more horrific scale. There was practically no telling just how many Gem shards it could be composed of, each of them forced together against their will, to become something that none of them had any sort of choice or cognizance in whatsoever. The entire concept was so despicable and heartbreaking that it nearly made the young Gem sick, or at least it would have if the sudden aggressive rumbling from the drill wasn’t already doing a good enough job of that on its own.

“We’re hitting some denser rock!” Peridot called as the magma began to give way to darkened stone once more. “This is it!”

The entire group essentially held their collective breath as the drill suddenly burst through yet another layer, this time emerging into what almost appeared to be a surprisingly empty space. Fortunately, the drill was equipped with an overhead light, allowing the group within to exactly where they had ended up. “Recovery depth achieved,” Peridot announced, her voice surprisingly quiet, lest she stir up what was lurking right below them. “T-target found.”

“U-unbelievable…” Ford whispered in just as much awe as the green Gem was upon looking to the vast expanse down below them.

“Whoa…” was all Mabel could utter, at a rare loss for words as she stared down at it as well.

“I-is that…?” Steven trailed off, unable to even say the thought that Peridot finished for him.

“The Cluster.”

Out of all of the things the collective group expected the Cluster to be, the one thing they didn’t anticipate was that it would be, of all things, hauntingly beautiful. And indeed it was, a massive, sprawling sphere that stretched so far across the immense lower cavern it had been tucked away in that its end and beginning could not even be seen. Sure enough, its form was composed of so many gem shards of all shapes, sizes, and colors, that one could not even begin to fathom counting them all. Millions upon millions of the shattered pieces had been stacked together in untold layers, creating a shimmering masterpiece of untapped destruction, resting right below a thin layer of iridescent water meant to maintain its momentous form.

However, for as awestruck as the group in the drill was by its surprising radiance, their amazement was ultimately short lived. A brutal tremor echoed through the cavern, rippling the water enshrouding the Cluster and stirring the drill up quite a bit as it hung desperately onto the cave’s ceiling. “Ah! W-what’s happening!?” Mabel cried, more or less clinging onto Ford’s lab coat to avoid being tossed to the cockpit’s floor.

She was answered with yet another resounding quake, by far the most violent yet as the Cluster itself finally began to take on some form of movement. The forced fusion let out a fledgling high-pitched whine, light beginning to burst from it in the form of dozens of outstretched ghostlike hands. The incorporeal appendages continually collapsed against each other, forming in and out of each other all across the Cluster’s surface. All signs that it was beginning to take on its whole new twisted existence all on its own, just as Homeworld had intended it to do from the very start.

“W-we’re too late!” Peridot gasped in apt horror as the drill itself began to blare out several warning alarms. “It’s taking form!” And sure enough, it was as the Cluster’s steadily forming hands began to reach up towards the only thing it could: the drill itself. The ghostly mass ascended upward rapidly, intent on converging in on the drill and no doubt tearing it, and everyone inside of it, from the outside in. “Steven, Mabel,” Peridot turned to the kids, tears starting to well up in her eyes once more. “I-I’m sorry I couldn’t save you or the billions of other lifeforms who matter far, far less to me. Oh, and Ford too, I guess.” Despite the mortal danger they were all in, the author still spared the green Gem a critical glance at this last minute dig, one that she largely ignored amidst her own immense terror. “Do you have any last words?!”

Steven was the first to act on this request, not hesitating to engulf the panicking green Gem in a comforting embrace, one that Mabel was quick to join in one. One that, for all they knew, could very well be their very last. “We love you, Peridot!” Steven cried just as earnestly.

“W-wow,” Peridot sniffled weakly. “Thanks.”

“G-Grunkle Ford?” Mabel pouted fearfully as she pulled away from the green Gem to seek comfort from the author instead. “W-what are we gonna do? W-we can’t just---this can’t be it! I-I’ll never get to see Waddles, or Grunkle Stan, o-or… or Dipper ever again and I-I never got to say goodbye to any of them! Grunkle Ford, please,” She was sobbing outright by this point, essentially curled up in her uncle’s lap as the drill continued to rattle, heralding their oncoming demise but she hardly cared when she thought about everything that could so quickly, so easily come to an end in just a few short, simple seconds. “T-this can’t be the end…”

For a moment, the author was taken aback, unsure of how to respond to such an immense outpouring of grief and fear. But all it took was one more look at his niece’s distraught, pleading expression for Ford to know exactly what to do and say to drive that grief and fear away and replace it with the usual reassuring hopefulness that belonged there instead. “A-and it won’t be,” the author said, his tone gentle at first as he lifted Mabel’s gaze up to meet his, softly thumbing one of her many tears away. “Not as long as I have anything to do about it.” With a newfound burst of resolve, Ford turned back towards the drill’s console, taking over where Peridot had left off amidst her own miserable mire. “After all, I didn’t face certain death several times over in several different galaxies to go out to something like this.”

The green Gem balked out of her own revere at this, looking to the author in apt confusion. “W-what are you-”

Before Peridot could even finish her question, the drill’s exterior lit up, the destabilization hyperfield glowing brighter and stronger than ever before just as the Cluster’s many tendrils began to strike it. The forced fusion let out a sharp, mangled cry of apparent agony, the hundreds of hands losing their shape as they slammed back down towards their source. “T-that actually worked?” Ford wondered aloud as the Cluster seemed to calm down for a brief moment. He quickly, recanted however, upon noticing the amazed, grateful look Mabel was sending his way. “Oh! I mean, o-of course it worked! Just as intended, as always. Heh.”

“I-it… really did!” Peridot shook her head as she glanced over the drill’s monitors. “After a hit like that, the Cluster’s now has to struggle to take its form! This means we still have time. We still have a chance!”

By now, both Ford and Peridot were working in quick conjunction, their hands practically flying over the drill’s controls as they worked to position it just right to get the job done. It took a bit of doing, but soon enough, they had managed to position the drill high above the Cluster’s center, its tip already whirling and ready to rip its target apart. “Now,” Ford began, moving his hand toward the button that would release the drill down onto its intended target. “It’s time to end this once and for-”

“Wait!” Steven’s sudden cry brought the entire cockpit to a complete standstill. The young Gem’s expression was fraught with dread and what almost appeared to be stressed exhaustion if the thin layer of sweat starting to bead across his forehead was anything to go off of. “P-Peridot, Mr. Ford, I… I don’t think we should hurt the Cluster! I don’t think it knows what it’s doing!”

“W-wha—no,” Ford shook his head sharply, refusing to listen to such a complaint with stakes as high as they were. “Steven, I’m sorry, but what would you have us do? Let this thing simply emerge and tear the Earth and everything on it apart from the inside out?!”

“N-no… but-”

“It doesn’t matter if the Cluster ‘knows’ what it’s doing,” Peridot agreed just as irresolutely. “It’s still going to do it.”

Without taking the time to hear any further deliberation on the matter, Ford and Peridot worked together to push the drill onward, sending its spinning tip plummeting fast down towards the Cluster itself. Once again, the massive fusion made another unsteady attempt at taking on its unknown form, its miasmic hands raising up towards the drill making a beeline towards it. Even despite the destabilization hyperfield, they didn’t retract this time either, instead persisting onward until they easily swallowed the drill entirely. The Cluster itself let out what seemed to be a pained wail as soon as they touched the electric field, but it was only drowned out by the unified cries of terror coming from inside the drill itself. From the moment it made contact with the Cluster, the entire machine had begun shaking so rapidly and aggressively that it felt as though it was going to fall apart at the seams, a terrifying sensation that only seemed to grow as the massive fusion’s fledgling form continued to eclipse them completely.

“T-the destabilizer!” Peridot gasped, realizing that the shield was doing relatively little to ward the Cluster off. “It’s not working anymore!”

“We won’t need it to work,” Ford hissed through gritted teeth as he pressed the drill further down, despite the heavy resistance from the Cluster itself. “N-not once we make it down… here!” With one final push, the drill’s tip finally made contact with the gem shards that composed the Cluster itself. The immediate impact elicited another intense, unearthly scream from the massive fusion, one that only continued as the drill began to bear down upon it, grinding up several of the shards that composed its surface into nothing at all.

Amidst the initial chaos of the drill’s touchdown, Mabel was the first to glance away from the very meager starting progress they were making and instead glance over at Steven upon hearing him let out a sudden low groan of apparent pain. “S-Steven?!” she gasped, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of the young Gem huddled over in his seat, his face pressed tightly into his hands as he continued moaning softly. “W-what’s wrong?! What is it!?”

“Is the increased vibration causing damage to your head holes?” Peridot asked, equally as concerned upon noticing Steven’s obviously poor condition.

“Are you having trouble breathing?” Ford pressed, joining in on the shared sense of alarm. “Because I added drop down oxygen masks for just such an occasion!”

“N-no…” Steven countered, weakly pushing his oxygen mask away as it fell from overhead. “I-I don’t know, I just-”

“We’re not even piercing the crust yet!” Peridot interupted urgently. “We need to increase power, b-but there’s no doubt it’ll take a toll on the drill, and by extension, us. Are you going to be ok?”

“Y-yeah,” Steven stammered, forcing out a deep breath as Mabel helped him sit up properly. “Yes. I think its just the noise. K-keep going.”

The green Gem sent him another worried look, but ultimately nodded in acceptance. “Affirmative. Activating triple tip penetration mode!”

At thus, sure enough,, the singular drill split up and out into three different injector heads, each of them working equally as hard against the Cluster in the hopes of breaking past its surface to destroy what lay deeper within. Paired with the still quite prevalent destabilization hyperfield, the Cluster’s formation was all but forced back, its ghostly arms retreating as its unintelligible cries began to die out. Still, its overall suffering was far from over, a fact that only Steven was really clued into amidst his own continuing duress. For as he kept his somewhat blurry gaze trained on the cockpit’s dark floor, he gasped in quiet shock when it suddenly seemed to blink out of existence entirely. In its place, an endless glowing void stretched out beneath him, thousands upon thousands of agonized, ghoulish faces rising up from the ether through it. They all wailed in unified anguish, almost as if they were in some sort of twisted harmony with the Cluster itself as they surrounded him, converged upon him, overwhelmed him in just about every way possible until—

A sudden sharp snap brought him back to reality. The drill took a violent swing to the right, slamming its passenger’s hard against one another as they looked out to see exactly what had happened. One of the drill’s three heads had broken off, unable to withstand the immense amounts of pressure being pushed upon it. It quickly spiraled easily out of control as it whirled away from the drill, threatening to smash back into it as it twisted and turned about in every direction.

“Ah! Runaway drill!” Mabel cried in alarm, especially as the cockpit shifted its position once again.

“N-not a problem!” Peridot assured, struggling to maintain the drill’s controls to evade the broken head. “Just… gotta… keep balance!”

Just as the missing drill head lost its momentum and collapsed, the main cockpit finally steadied itself as its two remaining tips spread out wide to keep it standing. While Mabel clung tightly onto her seat just to stay upright amidst the drill’s unsteady rocking and tilting, Steven was once again preoccupied with indistinguishable ghostly faces swirling all around him, to the point that they obscured Peridot, Mabel, and Ford entirely. As the Cluster’s already voluminous groaning heightened into another full on scream, one of those many faces turned directly to the frightened young Gem, rushing for him at full, horrifying speed.

And though it never hit him, Steven flinched back with a fearful cry as though it had, accidentally striking both Mabel and Peridot in the process. “Steven?!” Mabel gripped his shoulder, aptly concerned, especially when she noticed just how heavily he was breathing. “A-are you ok?!”

“N-no!” the young Gem shook his head truthfully, looking to her as he gripped her arms desperately for some much-needed support. “There’s so many of them… a-and it’s so much, a-and I don’t know-”

“Don’t know what?” Mabel asked, not even noticing just how red her cheeks were flushing as a result of Steven’s tight hold on her. “What are you talking about?”

The young Gem’s brow furrowed at this, baffled as he watched her flicker in and out of his vision, replaced by the endless barrage of unknowable, agonized faces over and over and over again. “Y-you… you don’t see them…?”

Before Mabel could ask him for any further clarification, the drill jolted once more, practically throwing everyone inside it forward as the result of yet another one of its heads snapping off. Without any additional support, the sole remaining drill was completely unbalanced as it wobbled to and fro, barely able to remain standing on its own, much less continue wearing down the Cluster, a mission that it had barely made any headway on to begin with.

“N-no!” Ford shouted, gripping the drill’s wavering controls tighter than ever before. “Without the auxiliary drills, it won’t be able to hold out much longer! We need to-” The author was sharply cut off as the drill abruptly spun about, whipping the entire group back into their seats and into each other hard. The hard blow was enough to elicit yet another pained cry out of Steven as he gripped both his head and his stomach, both of which felt as though they had been pierced by some sort of unknown blinding, burning force that he could barely even begin to comprehend.

“Augh!” the young Gem finally shouted, unable to bear it anymore. “I-I don’t understand what’s happening!”

“W-what’s wrong?” Peridot asked, deeply worried by this point, a worry that Mabel and Ford also shared.

“I-I don’t know!” Steven shook his head. By this point, the pain had grown so intense that it had practically driven him to tears, his breathing short and shallow as his mind and heart both raced at what felt like a mile a second. As opposed to any sort of external pain, the young Gem knew this was solely internal, but he hadn’t the faintest idea as to where any of it was coming from. In fact, the only things he were aware of at that moment were the trio of voices all fearfully shouting his name, his own gemstone dully glowing underneath his shirt, and the still persistent rising rain of faces, all of which were all too quickly dragging him into the very same emptiness they were falling into.

“…st…m… nee… to… want… orm…”

Steven flinched as he opened his eyes once again, only to find that the drill itself seemed to have been swallowed up that same blank darkness he had steadily been drifting away into. And even more concerning, was the fact that his fellow passengers seemed to be just as gone as the drill itself was.

“P-Peridot?” Steven called, dumbfounded as he realized even the seat had disappeared from underneath him, essentially leaving him floating freely in the darkness. “Mr. Ford? Mabel?!”

The young Gem received no response from any of them. Instead, he was met with a few small specks of light popping up within the darkness around him. And with those specks, came voices so soft and so small that they were barely even distinguishable as they echoed through the now starry void. Yet each of them, as distant and wavering as they were, all seemed to faintly be whispering the same unified, yet broken chain of thought together.

“Must… have to… want to… need to… have to…”

Steven stilled, poising himself to better hear these strange mutterings, until he noticed one of the specks of light starting to slowly drift towards him. Upon a closer look at the sparkling speck, he quickly realized exactly what it was: a Gem shard, completely broken and jagged, yet a spark of light and life, however small, still seemed to persist within it as its tiny voice joined in the chorus of countless others.

“Want to… need to… want to…”

“You… want to?” Steven frowned, carefully cupping his hands underneath the floating shard. “Want to… what?”

Suddenly, the once-whispering voices boomed, their voices blasting a blinding light through the void as they all cried out the only thought, the only desire they were all forced to share.

“FORM!”

Practically defended by this brutal proclamation, Steven let out a pained cry as he rushed to cover his hears from the now rushing, frantic crowd of voices and flickering shards all around him. Shards that were all clearly struggling to escape in some way, shape, or namely, form.

“I-it’s the Cluster…” Steven gasped, his eyes widening in realization as he looked throughout the broken void. “I’m talking to the Cluster?! But… how did I get inside your brain? …Brains?”

“Have to… Want to… Need to… Must!” The Cluster’s unified chants began to grow more frantic as light pulsated through their singular, yet shattered mindscape once more. Steven gasped as its entire being rumbled, clearly a sign that the massive fusion was on the verge of breaking free from itself, and from the Earth, once and for all.

“Wait!” he pleaded, desperate and afraid. “Please, don’t take form!”

Even so, the Cluster hardly heeded him, desperate and afraid itself as it persisted in its one sole yet separate instinct. “Form… form. Form! FORM! WANT FORM! WANT FORM!

FORM!”

Unbeknownst to the young Gem, outside of the Cluster’s immense hive mind, the massive fusion was indeed acting upon that instinct as its entire being rippled and illuminated once more. The drill had all but collapsed against it, no longer to maintain its position, not that it would have helped much anyway if it could. Even so, Ford and Peridot desperately worked to bring it back online, all while Mabel tended to Steven, who had abruptly, horrifyingly slipped into unconsciousness quite some time ago.

“Steven!” she shook him once more, practically pleading with the listless young Gem at this point. “C’mon, you gotta snap out of it! We need you! I-I-” she hesitated, slowly taking his hand and gripping it tight as she pulled it close to her. “I need you, please. You gotta come back to us!”

“W-what’s wrong with him!?” Peridot asked, peering past the drill’s controls for the briefest of moments. “Why isn’t he waking up?!”

“His vitals all seem to be just fine!” Ford shook his head, recalling the brief check he had just taken on the young Gem moments ago. “It doesn’t make any sense!”

“M-maybe its some sorta Gem thing!” Mabel vouched, even though she really had no idea herself. “H-he said he was… I dunno, seeing something, something none of the rest of us could. I don’t know what that means, but… but…” She trailed off, breaking out into a small, sharp gasp as she noticed his gemstone glowing ever so slightly under his shirt. “W-what if he’s doing something to help!?”

“Help what?” Peridot asked, not following.

“Us! The Earth! Everything!” Mabel exclaimed. “He has all these weird sorta dreamy powers, like how he talked to Lapis that one time or how he got into one of those watermelon guys to help the Gems and Dipper just a little while ago! M-maybe he’s using those now to do something to stop the Cluster!”

“Or more likely, the severe stress of the situation at hand got the better of him and overwhelmed him,” Ford said, looking to his niece sympathetically. “Mabel, I’m sorry, but there’s simply no way to know-”

“No,” Mabel cut him off sharply, her tone and manner quite serious as she looked between the doubtful pair. “In case you guys haven’t noticed, we’re kinda stuck down here without any other choices to get us out. Which is why I choose to trust Steven. After all,” she smiled briefly down at the unconscious young Gem beside her, squeezing his hand just a bit tighter at this. “He’s never steered me wrong before.”

Though Ford and Peridot both still had their reservations about such a risky course of action, ultimately, they had no choice but to go along with it. Largely since, no matter what the tried, the drill simply refused to pick itself back up again. Fortunately though, the Cluster seemed to retreat back into itself for yet another brief spell, though if its continuous pulsating and nearly endless shrieks were anything to go off of, it wasn’t about to stay dormant for too much longer. A fearful fact that Steven knew all too well as he continued to try and make his own case from within it.

“Um, m-maybe instead of forming you could do something else?” he asked, hopeful, though the suggestion was quickly shot down.

“FORM!” the Cluster cried, practically demanding it of both the young Gem and of itself.

“B-boy,” Steven breathed out a forced laugh, knowing that it was really the most he could do, given the circumstances. “You’ve sure got the one-trackiest mind I’ve ever met…”

“Need form!” the Cluster yelled once more, though their tune soon began to calm into something else. Something… sadder, much to Steven’s surprise. “…To be whole…”

“…Whole?” Steven asked softly, remembering what Peridot had said earlier. These countless pieces of Gems were like missing pieces, pieces that had lost themselves in the process. It was understandable, for them to feel so lost, to need some sort of way to bring the pieces of themselves back together again, even if the pieces they were now connected to weren’t even their own.

“Have to…” the Cluster’s many voices wavered almost miserably, its shimmering shards flickering low and mournful at what they knew they could never really attain, even if they did successfully form. That wholeness, the sense of being something once more, that they had all lost so very long ago.

“I… think I get it…” Steven nodded calmly. ���You just wanna find the rest of your gems… B-but forming won’t help you find the rest of yourselves! You’ll just destroy the Earth!”

A ripple of newfound panic seemed to wash over the Cluster at this, frantic over the thought of the destruction they’d all be unwittingly forced to cause to the planet that almost all of their pieces, when they had been together, had once stood to fight for. “No! No! No! No!”

“B-but if you wanna find other Gems,” Steven thought and acted quickly, finding a much-needed solution simply by looking across the vast collection of shards all around him. “There’s so many of you right here! Look!” Carefully, the young Gem guided one nearby shard to float next to another, both of them igniting in a soft glow as they came to hover close to each other. “Shard, meet shard!”

“Have to…” one of the shards whispered weakly, though surprisingly enough, its partner offered an equally gentle response.

“Want to…”

“See?” Steven smiled, allayed at such a simple, yet surprisingly sweet interaction. “You already have so much to talk about!”

At this, the various shards of the Cluster lit up once more, though in a much different sort of way this time. For instead of desperately, violently seeking to gain their elusive form, they instead took a different approach, coming together and greeting each other in short, simple conversations. The most any of them could really offer each other was a brief hello, but it was more than enough to create the connections that these once broken, abandoned shards needed to feel like they were part of something, to feel like they were finally whole once more.

“This is great!” Steven laughed happily, engulfed in the warm glow of newly-formed bonds the Cluster was now made up of. “You don’t even need to form! You can just stay here.”

The Cluster let out a unified contented hum at this, it’s quiet, yet cordial conversations continuing all the while. “Want to stay…” With this shared desire rising up amongst the fusion’s countless shards, links of soft, golden light began to connect them to each other, forming the network that was indeed steadily working to bring them all together. And for a moment, it seemed as though, just as the Cluster was fully starting to accept this network of support and love and fulfillment, it was ready and willing to leave its anxious attempts to take its form by the wayside. To fade into the darkness and keep to themselves, spending the rest of time getting to know each other.

Or at least, that’s what they would have done if they had actually been able.

The dimming void suddenly flashed starkly back to life, completely rattled by the absolute scream of anguish the Cluster collectively let out. “Can’t stop! Going to form! Can’t stop! Going to form! Help! Help! HELP!”

“Ah!” Steven gasped, just as frantic as the Cluster was as he realized it couldn’t help itself. Like all Gems, it was in the fusion’s nature to form, whether it wanted to or not. Unless… “W-wait! It’s ok! If I just bubble you, you won’t have to come out. It’ll keep you safe! Here, look, like this!” Acting quickly, the young Gem formed a sturdy pink bubble around the nearest gem shard, safely securing it before moving onto several others in rapid, hectic succession. “I can bubble you! And I can bubble you! And I can bubble you! A-and that makes five out of… oh geez…” Steven’s hopeful smile quickly faded as realized just how many shards he’d have to bubble and just how little time he had to do so as the Cluster continued crying out in shared fear over its very-near formation. “I’m sorry! I can’t do it alone!”

The Cluster didn’t answer as its uproarious cries continued, the force of its violent, unwanted formation practically pushing the young Gem out of its shared mindscape altogether. The last thing Steven saw or heard from it were its flashing shards and its terrified screams, all of them desperately trying to do everything they could to keep themselves from destroying the Earth and failing fast.

And just like that, the next thing Steven knew, he was back suddenly back within the darkness of the drill’s cockpit, though still far from being anywhere close to out of danger yet. He darted upright with a sharp gasp, startling Mabel, Ford, and Peridot alike in the process as he all but ignored them to glance out the nearby window. Sure enough, the Cluster’s ghostly hands were taking shape, becoming much more tangible than ever before as its form drew ever closer to materializing, despite its best efforts and struggles to repress itself.

“S-Steven!” Mabel exclaimed in apt surprise at the young Gem’s quick recovery. “Are you o-”

“It doesn’t wanna form!” Steven instantly interupted, turning to the trio urgently.

“What?” all three of them asked in absolutely confused unison.

“The Cluster! It doesn’t want to destroy the Earth!” the young Gem reiterated. “It wants to stay here! B-but it can’t stop itself! We gotta put it in a bubble!”

“Bubble it?” Ford asked, absolutely baffled by the thought.

“As if!” Peridot scoffed. “Just look at it! There’s no way!”

“W-well, what if you and Peri work together to do it, Steven?” Mabel suggested, even if her tone lacked any real conviction behind the idea. “Maybe that’ll be enough to-”

“Enough to do basically nothing!” Peridot countered, shaking her head. “We’d need the power of at least a hundred Gems, if not more, to even begin to-”

“Wait,” Ford interjected, his eyes wide as he glanced out the nearby window to the Cluster once more. “Look.”

The harsh glow enveloping the massive fusion had dulled somewhat, replaced by a handful of small, colorful bubbles popping up across its entire surface. Their emergence seemed to be random, but steady, with more and more shards joining in on sealing themselves away, all with the same exact mission in mind: to keep themselves from forming.

“T-they’re bubbling each other!” Steven exclaimed with a growing, amazed smile.

“Whoa!” Mabel gasped, equally as impressed as they all watched more and more bubbles appear. “Talk about teamwork!”

Steven didn’t hesitate to join in on this teamwork, reaching down to the floor of the cockpit as he closed his eyes in resolved concentration. “I’ve got you,” he reassured the Cluster firmly as he added his power onto theirs’. “You’ve got this! We’ve all got… each other!”

While the individual shards of the Cluster weren’t quite strong enough to bubble their entire mass on their own, the help and support Steven was offering them was more than enough to help them bridge that gap. In conjunction with the young Gem, the various bubbles of the scattered shards joined together, adding up to create one large, all-encompassing bubble that succeeded in covering the Cluster entirely. And, with this protective barrier in place, the massive fusion went still and silent, its suffering finally over and the planet finally, finally safe.

***

Considering the immense damage the drill had sustained, it took it quite a while to scale up through the various layers of the earth it had plunged through before. Still, the trip back to the surface was by far a jovial one, filled with immense relief and celebration as the group left the now-dormant Cluster behind. And, the moment the drill breached the ground and made it back to the barnyard, it collapsed, with its exhausted, yet happy passengers piling out of it not too soon after.

“You did it!” Peridot proclaimed brightly, immediately engulfing Steven in a tight hug the moment he regained his footing.

“We did it together,” Steven corrected with a warm laugh as he returned the green Gem’s hug.

“And it was great!” Mabel chimed in, adding herself onto the cheerful pile.

“Hm…” Ford mused to himself, glancing back down into the hole the drill had just emerged from. “And it was surprisingly… easy at that. I’m not used to situations like this going so… relatively smoothly. Are we positive that bubble is really going to be enough to contain the Cluster on a long-term basis?”

“Hmph, if you’re asking a question like that, then clearly you don’t know the first thing about Gems,” Peridot remarked with a hint of a wry, teasing grin. “Our bubbles are made to last. It would take a positively titanic amount of force to pop it, especially one that massive.”

“So… we’re safe?” Mabel asked, hopeful.

“Yes,” Peridot nodded confidently. “We’re safe.”

“And so is the Cluster…” Steven said, smiling down at the ground beneath him. Or rather, at the now peacefully resting fusion buried far, far below him.

The ongoing round of levity was soon interrupted, however, by the loud honk from the approaching car driving up the nearby hill. Stan and the Gems emerged from the car first, a little weary, but clearly no worse for wear after the arduous battle they had just taken part in. Dipper stepped out of the vehicle a bit more slowly, all the while trying to tote the still-unconscious Lapis out along with him, though he wasn’t quite well-suited to carry her, especially given his still-prevalent injuries. Which was why Garnet readily stepped in, much more easily taking a careful hold of the blue Gem instead.

“Don’t worry,” she said, offering Dipper a kind smile. “I’ve got her.”

“Thanks,” Dipper returned her grin, allowing himself yet another small sigh of relief as he kept his sights on Lapis all the while. In many ways, he was still in a sense of disbelief that she was back, but sure enough, he had lingered close to her the entire drive home, a sentiment he intended to continue until the moment the blue Gem finally awakened.

“Guys!” Steven exclaimed, excitedly running up to the group with Mabel rushing not too far behind after him. “You’re back! A-and you have Lapis!” The young Gem’s smile widened even more upon seeing the listless blue Gem resting in Garnet’s arms. “Is she ok?”

“She’ll be fine,” the Gem leader assured, having already offered the same promise to Dipper several times over since they had left the island.

“See, bro-bro?” Mabel smirked, elbowing her brother lightly. “I told ya that if there was anybody who’d be able to save her, it’d be you! And I was right, just like I always am!”

“Yeah,” Dipper chuckled warmly. “I guess you were. And you, Steven,” he turned to the young Gem, absolutely amazed. “I still can’t believe what you pulled off back on the island with that watermelon you. Seriously, that was so bizarre and so cool!”

“Not as cool as what you did to help Lapis!” Steven chimed in just as enthusiastically. “Oh, by the way, that reminds me.” The young Gem suddenly stepped forward, focusing in on the quite-noticeable bruise Dipper had sustained on his cheek one of the several times Malachite had violently knocked him back. Without any warning, Steven landed a small, brief healing kiss upon it, clearing the injury completely. “That’s been bugging me ever since we were back on the island. Remind me to heal up the rest later, ok?”

For a moment, the most Dipper could do was stare at the young Gem in shock at this, unable to hid the rush of red filling his how healed face in light of what he’d just done. “Y-yeah… o-ok…”

“Y-you all look happy,” Pearl interjected somewhat anxiously as she looked to both Steven and Mabel, as well as Peridot and Ford as they came over to join the group. “Did you destroy the Cluster?!”

“Er… not exactly,” Peridot said, hands held behind her back.

“I talked to it,” Steven said simply.

“…What?”

“It doesn’t wanna destroy the Earth,” Steven explained. “It just wants company. And now it’s got like, a bajillion people! They’ll have lots of time to get to know each other now that they’re in a bubble!”

“Whoa, you bubbled it?” Amethyst asked, amazed. “How are you sure something like that’s even gonna hold against something that big?”

“That’s exactly what I’m still wondering…” Ford mused with a small frown. “But, if Steven is confident that this will be a permanent fix to this problem, then, I suppose I see no reason why the rest of us shouldn’t as well.”

“Well, I think its gonna work,” Mabel added with apt confidence. “After all, the Cluster is a total team player!”

“But I’m still confused,” Pearl shook her head incredulously. “How did you even manage to bubble that whole thing in the first place?”

“Let’s just say we had a little help…” Steven smiled, looking down to the ground once more. Far below which he knew the Cluster rested, where it remained, still buried and obscured, but existing in a much more mutual, contented state. Enveloped peacefully in a large bubble that would keep it contained, would keep its shards secured and the Earth safe. That would allow its once-lost, scattered, shattered pieces to find new parts of themselves. To bind new bonds that would never break and never leave them broken or alone ever again.

That would finally allow each and every one of them to become whole, together.

Next:

[deanmon69]

Tumblr Prompt #2

@kasbiel And another one is done! This was stupidly fun to write and I thank you profusely for the prompt. I hope it’s to your liking!

Prompt: Dean is actually not scary to be around when Castiel is around and that’s fascinating and intriguing to Jack. Of course, he’s blunt so he says something absolutely nobody wanted to verbalize. Castiel’s more than an anchor or friend to Dean. 

Pairing: Dean/Cas

Rating: G

Warnings: fluff, Jack doesn’t understand subtext, author’s attempts at humor

It started with the coffee.

           Jack watched curiously as Castiel silently handed a still mostly sleeping Dean fresh mug of coffee. Jack didn’t care much for the bitter drink, but the Winchester brothers seemed to live off it. Castiel didn’t drink it either, but he knew how to make it. For Dean. Just the way Dean liked it. And Jack watched, fascinated, as Dean took the mug with a soft grunt and cradled it to his chest.

           Jack blinked, waiting and watching. No matter how many times he brought Dean food, or beer, or whatever the man wanted, Dean had always had some harsh comment. A sarcastic snort. Or even just an angry stare.

           Jack waited a bit more, but Dean just sipped his hot drink and rubbed his bleary eyes. Jack frowned and glanced at Castiel, who seemed at ease around the two brothers. As if he…belonged.

           Jack stood to follow Sam out the door, ready to do their job. He glanced back only a second to see Castiel stand as well. But Dean, with a simple hand gesture, gave the angel pause. Castiel silently sat back down and waited. Because that was all he needed. He understood Dean.

           Jack did not.

~*~

           They were at a diner. One of those new ones that tried to look retro, like it was built in the 60s but really it was only a few years old. Over the top décor, complete with a mural of old cars and waitress on skates.

           Dean, who always seemed to lead by default, sat them near the back. In a booth that squeaked. The table had a miniature jukebox that took quarters and had 10 songs. They all ordered, except Castiel, who sat close to Dean. Their arms brushed together, but neither seemed to mind. Jack glanced at Sam, on his right, and at the near foot of distance between them.

           Their burgers arrived (Sam got a salad, which Dean scoffed at). While they ate and discussed the current case, Castiel reached over and fiddled with the knob on the jukebox. His head tilted, his eyes squinted. Jack watched, enraptured, as Dean ceaseless handed over a quarter while munching on a fry. Castile wordlessly stuck the quarter inside and a few moments of indecision, picked a song.

           you need cooling

           baby I’m not fooling

           im gonna send ya

           back to schooling

             Dean began bobbing his head, mouthing the words in between bites. Castiel leaned back in the booth, shoulder leaning against Dean’s as he gazed out the window. Sam ate his salad, Dean devoured his burger and occasionally passed a fry to Cas, who ate it even though he didn’t need it. And Jack watched this all, his own food completely forgotten.

~*~

           Jack sat in the backseat of the Impala. Normally he would be watching the trees fly by, the rain drops splatter across the glass of the windows, but his eyes were trained dead ahead. At the two in the front.

           Dean and Castiel. Sam was back at the bunker, sick with the cold of all things. Dean’s music was playing at a moderate level and the hunter was drumming his fingers on the wheel. The drive had remained conversation free for the most part. It made Jack twitch, but Castiel seemed…content with it all. He sat comfortably up front, watching the rain and lightning with eyes that spoke volumes. Like the angel knew just what is was like to fly into the heart of the storm.

           Jack blinked when Castiel suddenly moved, reaching over to the cassette player. Jack’s jaw dropped as Cas wordlessly ejected the tape. Jack cast an anxious look to Dean, remembering a time when he’d tried to ask to change the music. If looks could kill, Jack would’ve burst into flames.

           Dean’s fingers paused and he blinked, but said nothing as Cas rummaged through the collection of tapes. Once settled on one, Castiel popped it in and once again music filled the car. Jack watched Dean pick up his drumming once again, as if nothing had happened, as if Jack’s world wasn’t just tilted on its axis.

~*~

           Jack followed silently behind the three. He still felt unsettled by places like this. The big red ‘Target’ was lit up above as they walked across the parking lot. Once inside, Sam grabbed a cart and darted off towards the grocery side. Dean and Castiel, however, walked towards men’s clothes at a more leisurely pace. Jack, without much thought, followed them.

           People rushed by them, some in a hurry, some with upset children, and some with overfilled arms because they only come in for one thing. He watched as Dean, oddly, let Cas lead the way. The angel walked around the racks of clothes, occasionally touching one the flannel shirts. Jack felt sorry for Cas. He’d made the mistake of asking for something once, at another Target. Dean had snapped, saying they didn’t have the extra cash to spend on things they didn’t need. Jack just hoped Cas kept his desires to himself.

           They found the socks and here Castiel paused. Dean almost ran into him, stopped in time, but didn’t move out of Castiel’s space. His chest brushed up against the angel’s arm as Cas observed a pack of men’s socks. They had bees on them. Castiel smiled softly and took them off the hook, running a thumb over the material.

           Then they moved on, the pack of socks in Castiel’s hand. Jack frowned as he followed, so deep in thought he hadn’t noticed they made it back to the clothes. He blinked as Castiel held up a few shirts to Jack, eyebrows furrowed slightly. Jack realized Castiel was sizing them, making sure they fit him.

           In the end, the Impala’s trunk was filled with food and Jack’s shirts. He sat in the back with Cas, who held his bee socks, and began to wonder.

~*~

           Jack came to a conclusion on a Thursday afternoon.

           He was in the garage, watching Dean rattle around under the hood of the Impala. He couldn’t understand how Dean knew how to take the engine apart and put it back together. It all seemed rather complicated to him. He’d tried to help once, to learn how, but the only thing he’d learned was that Dean Winchester didn’t let anyone touch Baby.

           Except…

           Castiel had his trench off, his sleeves rolled up. He was hunched down beside Dean, their hips bumping, as Dean showed him…something. Jack had no idea, but he didn’t care. What he cared about, what was absolutely boggling, was that Castiel was the one with the tool in his hand. Dean showed him where it went, Cas made an attempt and failed, and Dean patiently explained it all again.

           Cas bent over, eyebrows knitted in concentration, and Dean’s hand came up to the small of his back. And stayed. They both bent underneath the hood, cheeks just an inch apart, voices low, and that hand was still there.

           “Oh,” Jack breathed. “Oh…”

~*~

           They were in the library, researching a case. Jack was good at this and so he was eager to impress. When Dean called a short break, Jack opted to bring everyone a fresh drink. He brought Sam a tea, and placed a single beer between Dean and Cas.

           Dean blinked. “We only had one left?”

           “Not at all,” Jack beamed, pleased with himself. “But I read that couples like to share their drinks.”

           Sam choked on his tea and launched into a coughing fit. Dean sputtered, face turning a deep shade of red. Castiel tilted his head, looking curiously at the bottle of beer.

           Jack’s grin faltered a bit. “I…I’m sorry. The site actually said shakes, but we don’t have any…is it supposed to be shakes?”

           Sam was now laughing, wheezing actually. Dean looked ready to explode, and hadn’t managed to get a single coherent sentence out. Castiel was silent, thoughtful, until he purposefully picked up the beer and took a sip.

           “No, Jack,” Castiel said smoothly, gently placing the bottle down. “Beer is just fine.”

           Dean cursed, Sam fell out of his chair, and Jack began to wonder if he’d ever understand these three.

[7aiguanlin]

hi i'm so glad you're back and feeling better!! 💗 can i request no. 98 & 100 for mr. "i love dark" changbin please :,)?

changbin + “you seemed sad, so i bought you flowers.” & “don’t make me say it.”word count: 1,651 words.

author’s note: thank you anon! i hope that you’re feeling well too. here’s your request, i had a lot of fun writing this even though i kept getting distracted adflaskd.ps: this is unedited because it’s 3am and i just wanted to be done with it after all my distractions so i’ll re-read this tomorrow and fix whatever needs to be fixed

it’s nine at night when she finally gives up on the idea of her blind date arriving. she nervously taps her nails against the third glass of water that she’s had refilled, and fiddles with her phone with her other hand.

she has two options now. on one hand, she could swallow her pride, book it out of the restaurant alone, grab a taxi, spend christmas eve alone, and pretend this never happened. on the other hand, she could call changbin and save her pride from the public but suffer changbin’s nagging. maybe he’d even spend christmas eve with her, even though she had ditched their month old plans for  it one week ago.

so maybe she did fuck up. or she definitely did. but to be fair, hyunjin, jisung, and felix were very persistent in regard to the blind date they had set her up on and changbin had even given her a (slightly passive-aggressive) approval on it, assuring her that he understood that the three boys were a pain in the ass when they wanted something.

yet here she was, being stood up on her christmas eve date and debating whether or not she should text her best friend rather than spending time with a cute boy. she does text him, in the end, in hopes that he hadn’t made new plans. 

december 24, 9:14pmto: dark loverhey, so i might’ve been stood up on the boys’ set-up blind date and i need a ride if you’re free?

the ‘delivered’ sign appears immediately, and the ‘read 9:15″ sign appears shortly after. when he doesn’t immediately reply, she frowns. but then changbin replies with a familiar annoyed emoji, and she knows that he isn’t doing anything other than scrolling through his phone alone on christmas eve.

december 24, 9:15pmfrom: dark lover-________-from: dark loveri’ll be there in fifteen minutes, you idiot.

even despite the insult, she chuckles softly, finally able to relax just a little bit even despite the pitying stares from the couples and employees around her.

she’s about to stand up to meet changbin at the entrance when he arrives, but instead, he motions for her to sit down with one hand while hiding his other hand behind his back. 

as he nears, she notices he’s dressed in a black button-down shirt and jeans, a contrast to his typical denim jacket or sweater, and his cheeks are tinted a slight pink. his expression, contrary to his usual overflowing confidence, looks almost bashful.

she’s about to comment on his current state when he shocks her even more by revealing a bouquet of yellow acacias and daffodils, with other flowers in the mix for decoration. 

“you seemed sad, so i bought you flowers,” he says before continuing. “and what kind of best friend would i be if i let you spend your christmas eve alone after you get all dressed up for the occasion?” his bashful expression turns into one of teasing as he slides into the seat across from her. 

she blinks, because she isn’t actually sad. more embarrassed about sitting in a restaurant alone for an hour, but now there’s a scarlet tinge on her cheeks as she accepts the flowers and stares at her best friend who looks effortlessly handsome today. he looks handsome everyday, to be completely honest, but today he’s in a button-up shirt and not a plain plaid shirt and that just gets to her. 

right now, she’s having difficulty seeing him as just a best friend. 

“so? order. it’s my treat,” changbin says as he grins, sliding her a menu before opening up his own menu. “or do i have to order for you, because you look like you just saw a ghost.” 

changbin does end up ordering for her, because she’s too indecisive to pick just one between the carbonara, lasagna, and margherita pizza. changbin settles on choosing the margherita pizza for her, because pizza is always a win. 

when the pizza arrives, she tries to use a fork and knife to cut it and eat it piece by piece like the people around her are doing, but after changbin arches an eyebrow at her uncharacteristic behavior, she laughs and puts her fork and knife down in favor of eating with her hands.

“so, what else is there to do on christmas eve for a date?” changbin asks as they walk down the streets of seoul. his choice of words doesn’t go unnoticed by her, and she nearly forgets to answer his question because of how her breath catches in her throat.

“we could join the party woojin’s having at his house,” she suggests, laughing when she sees the grimace on changbin’s face before he grumbles.

“this is a date, we aren’t going to spend it at woojin’s house.” her breath catches in her throat again and her heart threatens to beat out of her chest. “we can go to lotte world.”

her jaw drops. “changbin, that’s expensive and last minute.” 

“i can spoil my best friend on christmas. consider it a christmas gift,” he shrugs.

“you already got me a christmas gift.” 

“… consider this a second christmas gift.” 

lotte world is littered with decorations of red, green, and gold. there isn’t any snow on this christmas day, but even then, she and changbin find themselves under a falling flurry of shaved ice dispensed through fake snow producers settled atop buildings and tall trees.

the weather is cold, and the fake snow makes it even colder, and changbin sees that as the perfect opportunity to affectionately wrap his coat around the both of them as they stand in line for ferris wheel. she’s huddled beside him within the comforts of his coat, wondering when the hell changbin became so affectionate while he wonders when the hell he became so confident when it came to her. 

as in, sure, he’s always shown his love for her in the ways a best friend would and he really thought she would’ve notice by now, but to be so damn straightforward as to take her on an impromptu date on christmas eve and do this? changbin didn’t know what had gotten into him. but he guesses that when he planned a month ago to confess on christmas at midnight before the idiots had set her up on a blind date, he had been damn determined to really go through with it. 

he sneaks a peek at his watch that tells him it’s 11:29 already, but he grimaces at the cliche idea of confessing on a ferris wheel. his solution is to duck into the fast lane when the workers aren’t looking, ignoring her protests of confusion. he’s laughing as they reach the front of the line behind only a few others in front of them, and she’s smacking him on the arm.

“what was that about?” she asks as she forces herself into his coat again.

“i have another place to take you to at midnight,” he replies.

he actually doesn’t know where he’s going to take her. 

he just knows that he’s definitely not going to be the cliche guy who confesses on a ferris wheel. he has an image to uphold, even if it’s in front of the person in front of whom he’s already broken his image too many times to count.

“where are you taking me now, changbin?” she asks as she jogs behind him, his hand holding her wrist as he jogs around aimlessly to find the perfect place to confess to her. “the fireworks are starting soon,” she adds.

at 11:58, changbin finds them to be directly in front of the castle as an announcement blares through the loud speakers about the fireworks. he figures that this will have to work.

“are we going to be able to see the fireworks here?” she asks, her wrist still in his hand. 

11.:59. 

“you don’t need to,” changbin starts, beginning to laugh softly partly at her expression and partly out of nervousness. “i just–” 

“you just?”

“oh god, don’t make me say it,” he starts as he slides his light grip from her wrist to her hand and grabs her other hand with his so that she faces him. 

“changbin, you can’t just make me run all over lotte world, start to say something, and then ask me not to make you say it–”

12:00.

the first firework goes off.

“i like you,” changbin blurts out, “i mean i love you, but not in a best friend type of way. i mean that i’m in love with you. and fuck, this wasn’t how i was planning on confessing to you after you were just stood up by your blind date three hours ago” 

fireworks begin to go off in her chest and nervous butterflies begin to flutter in his stomach as she looks up at him with glistening eyes in slight disbelief. he observes that her cheeks are pink, but he’s not sure if it’s because of the cold or because of his confession.

“answer me,” he huffs in annoyance to guise his anxious tone, fingers starting to drum on the back of her hand in nervousness.

“i realized tonight when you walked in with a dumb black button-up and flowers to cheer me up about a blind date i wasn’t even sad about in the first place instead of your usual plaid t-shirt that i’m in love with you too, and i think i’m pretty dumb to not have realized your feelings before your confession, nonetheless my own feelings.”

12:01. another firework goes off, but it’s nothing compared to the fireworks in their chests. he laughs, and so does she.

12:02. they are the only two people in a crowded theme park. their lips meet, and in that moment, all they care about is each other.

(felix, hyunjin, and jisung’s plan to get them together worked).

send me an idol (wanna one or stray kids) + a number!

[othernecessarythings]

81: Piercings you have?

only my ears

82: Something you really enjoy doing:

spening time with my favorite people on adventures

83: Favorite person to talk to:

my sister or my best friends

84: What was your first impression of Tumblr?

how the fuck does this thing work, what are tags and why can’t i see any dates

85: How many followers do you have?

not many

86: Can you run a mile within ten minutes?

well yes? if my googling is right and a mile is about 1.6 km, then yeah, i run one km in like 5 min

87: Do your socks always match?

yes i can’t wear mismatched socks

88: Can you touch your toes and keep your legs straight completely?

yes

89: What are your birthstones?

?

90: If you were an animal, which one would you be?

like a seal or something

91: If a flower could aesthetically represent you, what kind would it be?

hm the flower called förgätmigej in swedish, they’re small, blue and calm

92: A store you hate?

um like the swedish store tessie maybe

93: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day?

none

94: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds?

read minds

95: Do you like to wear camo?

no not my style

96: Winter or summer?

SUMMER omg

97: How long can you hold your breath for?

probably not that long

98: Least favorite person?

hmm i really can’t stand trump for example

99: Someone you look up to:

my friends, hayley williams and my parents

100: A store you love?

weekday maybe

101: Favorite type of shoes

sneakers, always

102: Where do you live?

sweden, love it

103: Are you a vegetarian or vegan? If so, why?

i prefer vegetarian food, but i eat anything

104: What is your favorite mineral or gem?

no clue

105: Do you drink milk?

not straight up, but like oboy and stuff like that yeah

106: Do you like bugs?

not really

107: Do you like spiders?

not really either

108: Something you get paranoid about?

getting caught by parents or police or similar lol, i’m living very dangerously in that aspect huh

109: Can you draw:

absolutely not

110: Nosiest question you have ever been asked?

i’m not brave enough to ask too much, but i love to get to know people’s backgrounds, fears and dreams

111: A question you hate being asked?

“why are u so smart?” cause i know i’m smart, it sounds arrogant to just say it like that but i realize it’s true, but i don’t know why? it just happened? hm

112: Ever been bitten by a spider?

nah we don’t have any bigger or dangerous ones here in sweden

113: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach?

i live for it, i actually walk to the sea (i live pretty close to it) quite often just to breathe and let the waves calm me down

114: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days?

always sunny days

115: Someone you'd like to kiss or cuddle right now:

hm i’d like to find someone i like first ig

116: Favorite cloud type:

fluffy, compact clouds on a clear blue sky

117: What color do you wish the sky was?

i’m content with it being blue, and every beautiful colour the sunset is

118: Do you have freckles?

no

119: Favorite thing about a person:

their mind i guess? what they find interesting and are passionate about

120: Fruits or vegetables?

depends, i like both (indecisive as always)

121: Something you want to do right now:

bathe in a warm ocean, feel the sun on my skin

122: Is the ocean or sky prettier?

the combo of them together beats everything

123: Sweet or sour foods?

sour

124: Bright or dim lights?

dim, it’s so much more comfortable

125: Do you believe in a certain magical creature?

not really

126: Something you hate about Tumblr:

how addictive it is, and how some people criticize everyone for small mistakes when they’re just trying their best to be inclusive,, like for example this is one of the most lgbtq+ accepting spaces of all times compared the general homophobia in the world, but there’s still those who complain when every post doesn’t include their very specific orientation

127: Something you love about Tumblr:

how addictive it is, it allows me to completely forget everything else and just have a good time in peace,, and how i don’t know any one here, no one is here to constantly judge me

128: What do you think about the least?

huh? what’s that?

129: What would you want written on your tombstone?

oh um that’s a quite big decision but right now do i feel that this swedish lyrics would be very beautiful

”Låt oss gå upp på taket ikväll

Där vi kan se stjärnorna skimra

Låt oss gå upp på taket ihop

Där vi kan vara närmare himlen

Närmare himlen”

130: Who would you like to punch in the face right now?

trump or boris

131: What is something you love but also hate about yourself?

um everything, i constantly doubt all of my traits and appearances but love them at the same time

132: Do you smile with your teeth showing for pictures?

usually not, so if i’m smiling with my teeth am i usually really, really happy

133: Computer or TV?

computer

134: Do you like roller coasters?

hm sometimes

135: Do you get motion sickness or seasickness?

motion, seasickness is never a problem for me

136: Are your ears lobed or attached?

what?

137: Do you believe in karma?

no, but i still believe in acting good just because it’s right, not because you get any selfish profits from it

138: On a scale of 1-10, how attractive would you say you are?

oh that definitely depends, i know i’m quite near the society’s definition of beauty standards, with body shape and face features and clothing style and everything but i still doubt myself a lot, but i’d like to see myself as a strong seven

139: What nicknames do you have/have had?

none, my name hasn’t got any natural nicknames and i’ve never needed a nickname until recently when i’ve got a friend with the same name as me,, but she’s got a nickname so it’s okay

140: Did you have any pretend or imaginary friends?

no i wasn’t a creative kid at all lol

141: Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink?

sigh once secretly, but it didn’t go that well and i’ve never done it since

142: Would you say you are a good or bad influence to others?

oof really depends on who, but hopefully good?

143: Do you prefer giving or receiving gifts/help?

hm depends on how good the present i’m giving is

144: What makes you angry

not much really, i’m not an angry type

145: How many languages do you speak fluently?

kinda two? i mean i’m fluent in swedish of course, and i’m quite close to being fluent in english too.. and i must include some rather bad german skills too lol

146: Do you prefer boys, girls, and/or non-binaries?

honestly i don’t have a clue right now, but i’m probably bi? aah but idk maybe i’m just straight, how would i know, but rn am i comfortable in being bi and further explore what my sexuality is

147: Are you androgynous?

not really, i’m kinda stereotypically female i guess

148: Favorite physical thing about yourself:

hm my legs be kinda cute tho

149: Favorite thing about your personality:

no don’t make me choose this i don’t know and i’m insecure about it

150: Name three people you would like to talk to right now in person.

anyone? um hayley williams, tyler joseph and my grandpa who’s passed away

151: If you could go back into time and live in one era, which would you choose?

no i’m content in our era, but either the early 2000’s to fully live my emo life, or the swedish 50’s when my grandparents grew up, they always tell me such beautiful stories from their childhoods and teenage years (i am aware about the problematics with all eras, and 50’s being lots of racism and much more, but i’d like to believe that if i were able to grow up the same way my grandparents did here in sweden, would life been pretty great anyways)

152: Do you like BuzzFeed?

okay hear me out i don’t know if buzzfeed is i thing in sweden? i’ve never heard anyone mention it, i have a vague idea of what it is but i don’t really know? so i guess not

153: How did you meet your spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner? [If you have one.]

hah i wish

154: Do you like to kiss others' foreheads or hands for platonic reasons?

no i’m not a touchy friend, i’m more like a shower u with kind words instead friend

155: Do you like to play with others' hair?

no i feel like i intrude on their privacy somehow

156: What embarrasses you?

hm i don’t really know, i tend to avoid any situation that might make me feel embarrassed

157: Something that makes you nervous/anxious:

the concept of this (my teenage years) being the absolute best years of my life and that i have to achieve so much rn,, and media isn’t really helping me with that, i’m constantly forced to watch how great lives everyone else lives on social media and stuff,,, and i know my life is actually really interesting and good, but i’m anxious about my time running out anyways

158: Biggest lie you have ever told:

hm basic but “i’m fine” i guess

159: How many people are you following?/160: How many posts do you have on your blog(s)? /161: How many drafts do you have on your blog(s)?/162: How many likes do you have on your blog(s)?

not many on either of them

163: Last time you cried and why:

ah i don’t cry (which is a problem and i’m trying to loosen up my grip on my emotions but it’s hard) honestly i don’t remember the last time i really sobbed? i’ve cried a tear or two sometimes, usually over books, but i’m unfortunately not a crying type

164: Do you have long or short hair?

i had long hair until like yesterday! rn is it to my shoulders, which still is kinda long i guess, but short for me

165: Longest your hair has ever been:

idk quite long

166: Why do you like, dislike, or have neutral feelings about religon?

oh interesting topic, here’s my view on it; religion is a good idea, but we’re using it wrong. it is about spreading love and finding answers to the greater questions in life, to respect one and each other and finding a place and purpose in our world, which is beautiful right? unfortunately are many people and fucking leaders using it for their own profit, to spread hate or fear, which is completely wrong and not at all what it is about. worth mentioning that in sweden, particularly in the bigger cities, isn’t religion a big thing. no one i know is devoted religious? neither am i, but i still choose to believe in the good parts of christianity, about love and acceptance

167: Do you really care how the universe and world was created?

ye i’m a science nerd i would love to know how it was made from a scientific point of view, bc i firmly believe that it’s the big bang and not some god who randomly chose to make us lol

168: Do you like to wear makeup?

yes, a little everyday makeup, and bright, colorful and creative looks for events

169: Can you stand on your hands or head for more than thirty seconds?

against a wall, probably yes, but without? hah no

170: Did you answer the questions you were asked truthfully?

i think so, the knowledge that no one else is going to read this but me makes me feel quite secure in answering truthfully

that’s it! wow i made it through all of them, just for the record it’s the 23:d february 2020 today, nice, goodbye

[og-reylo-grandma]

My entry for Rewritten Reylo!! To be a Guest:

(Artist: unknown)

“Sir, if you’ll please just take a seat-“ Hux attempted to suggest to a flailing about Ben. Tunics deemed unworthy flew across the dressing chambers as he scrambled to find the perfect one. No shoe was left unturned-no trousers left uninspected. Panic had struck the prince like scarlet fever. Sweat formed in precarious beads upon his brow, resulting in even more anxiety about his appearance than to begin with. Ben ignored his friend’s request, rushing to a mirror for another scrutiny of his hair. His raven locks were proving to be uncooperative this evening, resulting in even more unnecessary chaos. He was so determined to impress Rey that even the slightest thing could drive him off a wall. “Ben, just pick something!” Hux bellowed at him, growing more and more tired by the second. “Hux, how about you stop sitting there and do something!” Ben shouted. Although the spell had been broken, his temper still remained at times. Hux’s expression grew flat as he rolled his eyes. Slowly, he got up to lazily to look through whatever was left in the battered wardrobe. “How about this lovely purple thing?” Hux asked, drained from his friend’s indecisiveness. Apparently, his enthusiasm was not appreciated; along with his poor judgement in menswear. “Have you gone mad? Rey’s favorite color is blue. Why would you come at me with this purple nightmare?” Ben exclaimed in horror. Hux sighed, defeated, and returned to his sad stool in the corner of the room. “This woman is so unbelievably perfect, I can’t possibly wear something as idiotic as purple to our celebratory reception,” Ben ranted on, “She deserves to be showered with anything and everything she desires.” Ben shuttered at the thought of what she desired. Tonight was the first night they would share a bed. Sure, he’d had lovers before, but not since the curse. He’s dreamed of ravishing her on more than one occasion, but now- now his dreams are more than a possibility. The dreams he once thought limited to the fiction of his imagination now have the opportunity to come to fruition. He had gotten a taste of his dreams when his curse had at last been lifted. Lost in thought, he finally took the time to pause, thinking back to the way she felt on his newly renewed lips. His eyes snapped back to focus when Hux’s anxious groan broke the silence. “Did I ever tell you about our first kiss?” Ben asked, dreamily. “On more than one occasion, yes,” Hux sneered, wishing the love-struck man would just get ready like a normal person. “I could write sonnets about her lips that would surpass Shakespeare himself,” the prince swooned. As he imagined how this night would go, his only goal was to smother those lips with his own as much as possible. “Yes, that’s very nice-” “And don’t even get me started on those dimples of hers,” Ben gushed. “I would put on the show of a court jester every day of my life to see her smile.” “While that does paint quite the picture, Ben, I expect you to be ready in less than,” he paused to check his pocket watch before continuing, “less than fifteen minutes.” Ben’s heart leaped into his throat, panic taking over the wistfulness in his eyes. How could he possibly be ready to see her in fifteen minutes? How could he be ready for tonight in such a short amount of time? “Hux, do you think I’ll be good enough for her?” Ben asked with sinking eyes. This was a question that had eaten up at him since the moment he considered she could be the one to break the spell. Every petal on that rose reminded him of her enchanting lips as they whispered his doubts on late nights. “Well, she certainly seems to think so,” Hux answered. A softness crept into his voice that Ben hadn’t expected. He stood to place a gentle hand on his shoulder, looking at him with easy eyes and a kind smile. “Well then, I don’t think purple really screams ‘good enough,’” Ben said, breaking the touching moment. Hux rolled his eyes at the jab to his suggestion. Of course, he couldn’t just let them have a single moment without driving him crazy. “Good God- that’s it!” Hux bellowed. Tired of Ben’s whining, he stomped his way to the near empty wardrobe. Ben chuckled at the ginger before remembering that he had to be completely ready in mere moments, and he was standing in the middle of the room in his under garments. “This is what you are wearing. Don’t question it, just know that it will make her happy,” Hux said, exasperated. Ben eyed him and the ensemble skeptically. “But-“ “No, no. Trust me. This is what you’re going with.” He pressed. Ben cautiously took the suit from him, curious as to what Hux had in mind.

______________________________________________________________________

Rey’s eyes fluttered closed as she drifted off into the memory of their first dance. Despite Ben’s appearance, he had been a perfect gentleman. She wondered now how different it would be to waltz with him. His hands will no longer envelope her, and his frame won’t tower over her own; however, she knew she would still feel safe and secure in his embrace. Her hand came up to run her fingers through her hair, just as he had done many times before. “Rey?” She heard a voice ask from the door. Knocked out of her trance, she flinched at the sound. “Come in,” she said. Finn and Poe peeked their heads in to see her nearly ready at her vanity. Finn -once a chipped teacup- and Poe -once a debonair candlestick- were now her best of friends. Each of their faces lit up when they saw the nostalgic ensemble.She thought it fitting to celebrate their first dance as man and woman by wearing the gown she wore when they were beast and woman. The happy couple “awe’d” at how beautiful she was. “You look absolutely stunning,” Finn gushed, inspecting her gown. “Thank you,” Rey blushed, looking down. Despite her anxiousness, she knew she looked good; although the response she received was more than she expected. Then again, her friends were known to exaggerate. While Finn raved, Poe formed a mischievous smirk. “Well, I guess you’ll be seeing how much beast is left in him tonight,” Poe chuckled to himself. Rey cocked her head to the side, confused as to what he meant . Finn joined in on the giggling, furthering her quizzical expression. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Rey brushed off the joke, returning to fixing her hair. The couple stopped their giggling, suddenly concerned. “This is the first night the two of you share a bed, correct?” Poe asked. Rey told everything to the two of them, yet her friends were beginning to wonder if they were wrong about what she had confided in them about. “Yes, but I’m not sure what sleeping has to do with anything,” Rey said, still puzzled. “Oh, dear Rey, sleeping’s got nothing to do with it,” Finn snickered. Poe snorted, causing Rey’s face to turn red. She scrunched her eyebrows, irritated that she was the only one who didn’t understand what they were talking about. The two couldn’t stop laughing at her gullibleness. “Rey, what do you think is going to happen tonight?” Poe questioned. “We’re going to sleep,” Rey attempted to explain, yet again. Why these two fools couldn’t understand that she had no clue. Again, fits of boisterous laughter echoed throughout the East wing of the castle. The soon to be princess was heated now, ready to exercise her powers as forthcoming royalty. “Gentlemen! What are you laughing about?” Rey was now on her feet, howling like a feral cat. The boys were still cackling, although they were now attempting to quiet themselves. “Did the idea of sex ever cross your mind?” Poe asked between wheezes. Rey’s eyes grew doe-like, as she slowly sat back down. No, in fact the thought hadn’t crossed her mind.The men calmed down, now suddenly realizing they were tasked with giving their naive friend advice. “Rey, you know you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, right?” Finn asked. Rey found herself in a daze. Now, she had a plethora of new possibilities. Wishing she would have realized this sooner, she now had so many things to prepare herself for. She turned to the mirror, examining herself carefully. An image of Ben ravishing her neck with tender kisses flooded her mind. Rey saw him softly slip the sleeve of her gown down her arm, bringing his fingertips to her shoulder blades. Button by button, he caressed his way south on her body… “Rey?” Poe asked, now uneasy. “Oh, I want to,” Rey trailed off dreamily. A new form of restlessness swelled in her core as her face twisted into a small smirk. Ben Solo was hers tonight. Yes, this would be a very different occasion, indeed. “Boys, help me pick out something a little more fitting for the occasion.”

______________________________________________________________________

Aristocrats lined the walls awaiting for the lover’s entrance. The lady’s gowns flowed from their waist, mirroring the soft petals which filled the room. Budding roses cascaded down the banister, filling the air with a sweet scent of romance. Former household objects now walked on two feet, rejoicing in their freedom; spirits soared higher than the angels plastered on the ornate ceiling.

Leia watched as she patiently awaited her son’s appearance. After years of witnessing her son crumble in the face of monstrosity, finally she can rest easy knowing he’s found happiness. There were no words to describe how overjoyed she was about Rey. She was the epitome of his other half, and it reminded her of her late husband.

At last, the two faced each other from opposite ends of the corridor. Ben’s heartbeat boiled in sync with Rey’s as they took in each other’s appearance. Both donning their reminiscent guise, they felt giddy at the memory. Eager to be in each others embrace, the couple rushed across the balcony. Ben’s arm laced around hers, eliciting a twinge of excitement from his beloved.

“You look divine,” he whispered, kissing the shell of her ear delicately. Rey flushed a deep shade of crimson, gazing down at the ground.

“Look up darling, your people are watching,” Ben cooed, propping her chin up softly. Rey looked across the ballroom, amazed at all of the people staring back at her. She couldn’t believe just how many had come to an occasion celebrating someone they had all once hated so much.

Ben was quite uncomfortable being watched by all these people. He had always found politicians boring to him. As a young child he could remember his mother bringing him to dreadful meetings, always insisting it was important to know what was going on in the world. To be frank, all he really cared about was walking gracefully by his side.

“Ben, don’t worry we won’t be staying too long,” Rey said, sensing his uneasiness. However, she surprised him by throwing him a subtle wink. His face burned an intense rosy shade, making Rey giggle. Not liking his embarrassment and lack of control, he decided to tease her. He calmly unsnaked his arm from hers, and placed his hand on the small of her back. Gradually, his hand slid down her corset, and came to rest on her backside. Leaning over to nip at her ear, he timed it with a firm squeeze. Now it was his turn to laugh as her eyes widened and her face turned colors. Ben chuckled to himself before returning his hand to the small of her back.

Their descent from the staircase finally ended, and they returned to their regal stature. Facing each other, they bowed slightly, before being right back in each other’s arms. Musicians performed their best literature as the prince and his betrothed took the floor. They flowed together as if their bodies were made of water from the same stream. Grasping each other so closely, they stared into each other’s eyes.

“Do you remember our first dance?” Rey asked, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“I remember being worried about stepping on your feet,” He replied, causing Rey to burst into laughter.

Rey took his paw into hers, adjusting his arm around her waist. She looked up at him, only to find he was the one looking scared for once. Beast gulped, sending a worried look to Hux. The clock nodded at him in approval, waving his hands in excitement. After that, he finally gained some courage to lead them through the waltz.

“Believe it or not, you were just as nervous as I was,” Rey told Ben, just as he twirled her around. He smiled at her, reminiscing in their rare good memories.

“Believe it or not, I was just as nervous tonight,” Ben said, bringing her close to him, unable to resist planting a kiss on her lips. Rey’s arms wrapped around his neck pulling him closer. Even though the couple was too wrapped up in themselves to hear, the crowd awed at their love.

“Do you remember our first kiss?” Ben asked, nuzzling against her cheek, trailing small kisses down the nape of her neck. Goosebumps fluttered down her arms, as her eyes gently closed.

“Like it was yesterday,” she breathed into the side of his head.

Right before her eyes, Rey saw Beast transform into something she didn’t think possible. At first, she didn’t think it could really be him. His eyes, however, proved her wrong. Her fingers came up to feel his new dark, shadowy hair.

“It is you,” she gasped. His face lit up with a frenzy of emotion, not hesitating for a moment to snatch her up into his arms. Their lips met, instantly eliciting magic all around them.

“I never knew anything could taste so good,” Ben quietly groaned, eliciting a sigh from Rey.

“Well, you may be in for a surprise tonight, then,” Rey retorted, causing his eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. Images of Rey writhing beneath him danced in his mind. He could practically hear her begging him already; his trousers tightened as his arousal grew.

The music ended, causing the lovers to grin at each other.

“Is it rude to leave our own celebration so soon?” Ben asked, as the rest of the guests flooded the floor.

“Not if they don’t notice.” ______________________________________________________________________

“Where are we going?” Rey squealed delightfully as Ben dragged her through the halls of the castle. He laughed, shushing her. They had successfully evaded their company, and were now scurrying like two sneaky teenagers.

“Ben!” Rey squeaked when he quickly shoved her up against a nearby wall. Tapestries shuttered as if they too were afraid of being caught. He raised a finger to his lips in a silent gesture to be quiet.

Hux was currently giving a tour to a group of nobles. Ben rolled his eyes as his friend went on to tell his awful Baroque joke. Rey giggled at the cheesy line, bringing him back to the moment. Moving in to strike her with a kiss, he took a risk and moved her arms above her head to hold them there. A moan spilled from her lips as he pressed into her. Tongues instantly began to tangle as a fierce heat built between them.

“Have you gone daft?”

The couple froze. Ben slowly turned around, with an impassioned look across his face. Hux was standing behind them, slack-jawed with his hands on his hips. The man had had enough of Ben’s shenanigans, and this might have put him over the edge.

“Armitage. Hux,” Ben growled, “Go back to your pretentious touring or so help me-”

“Fine, fine. All I ask is that you make it to your bed chambers before you retire for the night,” Hux exclaimed, exasperated. Rey was doing her best to hide from her friend who had just caught them in an intimate act. Ben turned around, and chuckled at her for being so shy. Again, he took her hand and began to lead her back to his chambers.

“The west wing?” Rey asked, surprised. It seemed like just yesterday she was running out of the castle because of this ghastly domain. She’s yet to venture anywhere near it since then.

“It looks a bit different than when you last saw it,” Ben laughed, softly. The doors opened to reveal an elegant display of silk pillows and candles around the room. In the center of the room, a carefully composed are for them was laid out for them. Colors burst from draperies; candescent lighting twinkling in the hanging beads.Rey’s jaw went slack at the exotic atmosphere.

“Where did you get all of these wonderful things?” She asked in wonderment.

“Well, the pillows were imported from India; the silks are from Taiwan. The crystal beads were handmade by Buddhist monks in Nepal,” Ben went on. Rey’s mind was sent reeling at all of the amazing cultures being displayed.

“What is that wonderful smell?” She asked, closing her eyes to take it in.

“Japanese cherry blossom incense,” Ben explained. He moved behind her to wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her close.

“I hope I get to see these places one day,” She stated, dreamily. Ben kissed the top of her head squeezing her tightly.

“Just say the word and I’ll gladly take you there,” He said, nuzzling her.

The room stilled, as the couple ran out of things to wonder about. Their minds went back to the moment in the hall as a familiar heat started to build. Rey turned around slowly, looking into his deep brown eyes. Ben’s lips twitched in anticipation, taking in the shape of her face before finally leaning down to ravish it.

Rey reacted quite strongly to all of the sensations around her. Her tongue jutted forward to coil with his, eliciting a groan from Ben. He wasted no time letting his hands explore her back, gripping everywhere they could. Her hands tangled in his mane, tugging rather intensely. Rey keened in delight as his hands came up to paw at her breasts.

“Who in their right mind invented corsets?” Ben grunted in frustration. Rey’s giggling was interrupted by Ben forcefully spinning her around to unlace her gown.

“Darling, you looked gorgeous tonight, don’t get me wrong,” he paused, to nibble on her ear, “but I’ve had just about enough of this pain in the ass dress.”

Rey moaned at his forcefulness, anxious for him to get through all the lacing. At last, once he was finished, the gown came streaming to the floor to reveal a little surprise of her own. A crisp white lace bodice adorned her breasts. A matching panty skimpily covered her lower body, which hooked to alabaster stockings. Ben’s face couldn’t contain its revelation. She turned around to snicker at his amazed expression, seductively placing her hands on her hips.

“This, is a local import,” Rey leered, grabbing his collar suggestively, “when it comes to fashion you can’t beat France.” Ben couldn’t take it anymore; her change in mood has left him hungry. His face came crashing down to meet hers, taking Rey off guard. Suddenly she was laying in pillows enjoying every touch he laid on her. Rey lemented a sound that made Ben go wild. His kisses spread to every aspect of her body, stopping to suckle of specific areas.

“This seems a little unfair, don’t you think?” Rey asked, mischievously. Catching him off guard, Rey decided to flip him over, straddling him. Ben groaned at the new pressure she provided, causing him to squeeze her ass. She shot him a wink before slowly creeping kisses down his jaw and neck. Gradually, button by button, Ben’s jacket was pulled off and flung across the room. Dodging candles as she went, she proceeded to toss bits of clothing away from them. Soon, he was down to his boxers, and Rey couldn’t stop herself from roaming her eyes all over his build.

Lust driven, Ben lurched forward to cloak her in his body. Inpatient, he began to unhook her bodice. Rey, now suddenly shy of herself, looked away from his scorching gaze. Ben’s eyes wandered unabashed after finally releasing her bosom. He let out a small groan before emitting feverish kisses to every freckle he could find.

“You are too good,” Ben said, overcome by her beauty. He didn’t give her time to argue before flipping her over yet again, making haste to give her beautiful breasts the attention they disserved. Rey crooned as his lip enraptured her nipple, causing Ben to become even harder than he already was. Massaging her breasts, he moved to leave a hot trail with his tongue down to her navel. Rey’s fingers clawed at the sheets, trying her hardest not to squirm.

Rey’s eyes shot open at a new sensation. Looking down, she gasped when she saw Ben sucking down hard on her over her panties. A loud moan carried through the space as he continued to suck and tease her with his tongue. Ben could hardly breathe with the way she was reacting.

“Oh God, don’t stop,” Rey squealed as he pressed his tongue into her clothed folds. Already so wet through her undergarments, Ben decided her couldn’t wait any longer.

“Sorry love, but it’s about to get better,” Ben whispered as he began pulling off her soaked panties. He kissed his way down her legs. Every nip was chased with the smoothness of his tongue. Once he discarded the panties, he reached over to grab a bottle.

“What’s that?” Rey asked, breathless. “Oil laced with incense. I got it on my last trip to Italy, just for you,” Ben explained, planting once last kiss on her shoulder.

“Turn around, darling,” He instructed. Rey twinged from her core, excitement bubbling inside of her. Warm, wet hands traveled up and down her back, massaging every sore muscle.

“I imagine those corsets are tiring to wear all day,” Ben mused,”Don’t worry, I’ll wear out those sore muscles.”

Rey moaned as his hands moved down to her backside, gripping and taking extra care of it. However, he surprised her when a finger slipped down between her thighs. A squeal escaped from her lips as her rubbed her sensitive nub. Once she was panting again, he rolled her over onto her back again. He drizzled the cool liquid onto her stomach, rubbing it in with fervor. Ben was beginning to lose control at the sight of her slick, freckled body. His hands claimed her breasts yet again, spreading the sweet smelling oil onto them. Rey groaned loudly just before Ben’s lips came crashing down on hers.

His patience growing thin, he slipped a finger in to test the waters. Curling it just right, she let out a soft scream. He continued pumping his finger until he felt she was ready for him.

“You’re so wet, Rey,” Ben groaned. All Rey could do in response was gasp and keen.

“Ben, I need you. Now!” She yipped as his fingers hit the right spot. Ben planted fervent kisses around her face, pulling out his fingers. Swiftly, he flung his boxers. Rey was writhing beneath him, but paused as soon as she took sight of all of him. She was mesmerized.

“Come here,” She said lustfully, sitting up to meet him. She grabbed the oil, placing a small pool in the palm of her hand. Rey couldn’t help herself from exploring the caverns of his body.

“So,” Rey dreamily wandered her hand to his member,”huge,” She tugged hard, before kissing him violently. Ben gasped, pulling her roughly. They fell, tangled together in one fluid motion. Before Rey could even process what was happening he was inside of her.She let out a scream of passion, letting her body get used to the feel of him. It took all of Ben’s strength not to fuck her senseless right then. “More,” Rey mumbled after the discomfort was completely replaced with pleasure. He didn’t hesitate to begin moving his hips at a steady pace.

“Fuck, Rey, so- tight,” Ben groaned, enjoying the feel of his woman clamped around him.

“Take me, Ben. oh God take me,” Rey panted uncontrollably. He didn’t have to be told twice. His pace sped to that of a mad man. The sound of slippery skin slapping together was hypnotizing in combination with their labored breaths. Rey’s moans were short and fast now, joined with Ben’s hearty grunts; they were close.

Ben leaned down to suck on her breast, fearing he couldn’t hold on much longer. Rey screamed in bliss. The couple was now enthralled in a frenzy of thrusts: animalistic noises echoed in the room. Rey’s nails dug into Ben’s back as she felt an entirely new sensation. Suddenly her mind was soaring, reaching new heights she didn’t think possible. As her walls clamped down on his member, Ben couldn’t hold back any longer. He doubled over, spilling inside of her with a fierce grunt.

Slowing down until they both rode out their climax, the two were numb. Ben moved the sweat caked hair off of her forehead.

“So, this is how your guests live?” Rey asked, giggling to herself.

“Oh, no, no, love. You’re my permanent guest.”

[sarahburness]

There’s More to Life Than Work: Goodbye Hamster Wheel, Hello Balance

“Most of us try to do too much because we are secretly afraid we will not be able to do anything at all.” ~Rick Aster

I’m standing in my art studio. My palette is loaded with paint. My canvas has been prepped and ready. There is a paintbrush in my hand, but I can’t move. I don’t know what color to pick or what shape to make. I start questioning my color selection, the size of my canvas… and everything else under the sun.

A few months ago, I wrote myself a reminder to allow my art to flow through me. Making art is a refuge for my mind—a mind that struggles with anxiety, depression, and “Hamster Wheel Syndrome.” You’re not familiar with that malady? Let me explain it to you with an example of what my brain sounds like when hamster wheel syndrome kicks in:

“Do people really like pinks and greens together? Is it too feminine? Should I make my shapes big and bold to contrast against the girlie palette? Maybe I should do a test on a smaller canvas first? Maybe I should just pick a different pallet. It’s cold in here. I’ll get a hoodie. I think I need more coffee… Man, this art table is messy. I’ll organize it first… I only have three hours until my dentist appointment… The grocery is near by the dentist. I’ll plan on going there too…” And on and on it goes.

According to UrbanDictionary.com, hamster wheel syndrome is “when someone just keeps running in circles (and making the same mistakes) in their life instead of progressing.”

I believe that this only really scratches the surface about what it truly means to feel my wheels spinning, with no break in sight, for days at a time.

When I’m in my studio, brush in hand and ready to go but I can’t move forward due to my brain throwing ten different options at me every three seconds, I feel paralyzed.

I am a highly efficient person with a creative mind. I’m an abstract painter, essay writer, and fastidious business owner. I can get more done in two hours than many get done in a day. And I’m not saying this to brag. It is a blessing and a curse.

If you’re like me, you know how exhausting this type of hamster wheel efficiency can be. IT NEVER STOPS. If I wasn’t checking things off my to-do list, I was compiling them into spreadsheets, using new methods of organization that I thought of while I was trying to sleep at 3am.

I am addicted to efficiency. It makes me feel productive and useful. But as there can be too many cooks in the kitchen, there can also be too many ideas and tasks to process at once.

When the multitude of ideas leads to overwhelm, paralysis is the result, and for a person like me, when I’m stagnant, I get even more anxious. If I stay in that state for too long, depression kicks in. Then I’m really in trouble.

I begin to feel guilty that I’m not getting enough done; like rest is a failure. Sometimes it’s hard for me to sit down at the end of the day, so the pace continues until bedtime, even though I know where it will lead.

Now I’m no psych major, but I believe hamster wheel syndrome is a compulsive disorder that at first makes me feel efficient, but then yields the same negative result every time—an inability to move.

I’m so addicted to coming up with things that will keep me busy in order to have a feeling of accomplishment and, more importantly, for others to see me as accomplished. I put a lot of pressure on myself!

I am a wonder of time management and productivity. I get up early in order to exercise before making breakfast and getting everyone off to work and school. Then I’m in my office at 8:00am, checking off tasks from my to-do list, and yes, I’m the type that if I’ve done something not on the list, I’ll add it just so I can cross it off.

Then, when I’m nauseated because I forgot to eat, I shove food down my throat and move to the art studio where I now have to flip into thoughtful and creative mode, and there I stay until 5:00pm.

The problem is that when I’m not moving at that horrendously cray cray pace, I’m comatose, lying on the sofa, binge watching Law & Order and denying the fact that I will, indeed, have to get up and be productive again. And if I get to this point I’m happy, because it means that hamster wheel syndrome hasn’t reduced me into a tornado of indecision, just that it has made me too tired to function.

I have two speeds: To-Do List Annihilator and DEAD.

After just coming out of about a four-month depressive period due to over working myself, I realize that this pace isn’t healthy or sustainable. So, what do I do? Well, I’m way too fired up about my art and my business to slow down. I think the solution is to be rigid about both my work time and my relax time.

I work with a business coach and recently, she has put us into three-people “accountability groups.” These groups are meant to help us stay on task. I realize that a common problem for artists is that they just can’t get themselves out of the art studio to give their art business attention. This is not my problem.

At first, the others in my accountability group were proposing only evenings and weekends for our weekly meetings. Since diving into my own business, I’ve heard many people say that I’ll now be working twenty-four hours a day and through the weekends. That entrepreneurs have to work longer hours to yield any sort of progress. That we are supposed to eat and breathe our work all the time.

I have one thing to say about that: SCREW THAT.

I didn’t start my own business to hamster wheel myself into a constant, walking panic attack.

I am passionate about my art and I want it out there, but I also love my family. I love to surf and hike. I love to watch movies and lollygag at coffee shops. What I don’t like is the exhaustion that hamster wheeling causes and the expectation that in order to be successful, I don’t have a choice in the matter. I’ll say it again: SCREW THAT.

So, in an effort to calm the rodent, here are five ways to slow the hamster wheel down:

1. Exercise, yoga, get outside and play

This really is on every single list I write. It is so important for me that when I don’t get up to do something active four or five days a week, I can feel myself getting wound up internally and eventually depressed. Just moving my body releases the bound-up thoughts and allows more grace to seep into my day-to-day life.

2. Meditation

I would think that due to my hamster wheel, seated meditation would be hard for me, but it’s not. I relish in the fifteen minutes when I sit, breathe, and be still. I’m pretty good about being consistent with it, but I’m also human, so I try not to be hard on myself when time goes by and I haven’t been active in this practice. I’ll start to notice that wound up feeling after a few weeks and start a daily meditation practice again.

3. Lists, lists, and more lists

It helps me go into my day with less anxiety by simply knowing what I would like to accomplish in the next eight hours.

I have a huge master to-do list that I update on Mondays. Each morning when I get up, I make a daily list from that list.

Now, before you roll your eyes at me, hear me out: My daily to-do list is only time-sensitive items that need to be accomplished that day and pieces of larger projects that I’ll give some attention to knowing that it won’t be completed as a whole. The result is a slow and steady progress.

4. Stick to a realistic work week.

My workday is from 8:00am to 5:00pm. I put everything down at 5:00pm, with few exceptions. My weekends are my own. I shut down the computer on Friday evening and don’t turn it back on until Monday morning.

I simply refuse to allow my business to take over my whole life. My art is my work and I’m lucky I feel so passionate about it. When I stop on the weekends, it allows excitement to build for Monday morning. Plus, playtime is an important recharge!

5. Judge progress in years, not weeks.

For a while, I was thinking about growth in terms of what I’ve accomplished in the past month or two. I also was living in a constant state of fear, overwhelm, and a feeling of failure. It wasn’t until I compared my current situation to where I was at this time last year that I realized how far I’ve come.

Slow and steady wins the race, and it’s much easier to see accomplishments built over long periods of time than in the seeds planted over just the past couple of weeks.

—

I think that the above can be applied to anyone, in any type of work.

In the end, we all want the same things: success in our work life and a healthy, happy home life. I have absolutely no doubt that stay-at-home moms, lawyers, restaurant workers—really anyone—can fall prey to hamster wheel syndrome. We must take care of ourselves, mind, body, and soul. Otherwise, we fall out of balance and fall prey to anxiety, depression, and a host of physical ailments.

I yearn for the day that I don’t have to give so much attention to being a balanced person. However, I also want a career, to spend time with my loved ones, to go surfing and skiing, to cook my own meals, and to be able to tend to all the errands that come with life. That’s a lot to want, and so I have to put equal attention to the activities that will feed my energy.

I have to remember that the hamster is not in charge! The wheel doesn’t have to spin twenty-four hours a day. In fact, it isn’t reasonable to think that it can. The hinges that support that wheel will burn out quickly if they don’t get a break and some oil.

While I like to burn bright, I must remember that fires need to be fed. And with that, I’ve just reminded myself that I’m hungry, and so I stop. To be nourished so I can nourish.

About Marigny Goodyear

Marigny Goodyear is an artist, living and working in Talent, Oregon with her husband, Goody and daughter, Nora. She plays in Crescent City, California where the ocean keeps her strong and inspired and often visits her hometown of New Orleans (also nicknamed The Crescent City), where the rhythm of her heartbeat is renewed. Visit her at marignygoodyearart.com and follow her on Facebook and Instagram.

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from Tiny Buddha https://tinybuddha.com/blog/more-to-life-than-work-goodbye-hamster-wheel-hello-balance/

[bloomertravels]

Claire has come down with the flu so we haven’t got out much the past couple of days, so Erica suggested she drop me off at Fish Creek Falls while she took Claire to the clinic; of course I agreed, and I didn’t care for the fact it had been snowing heavy, because all I wanted to do was hike. What an intense adventure it turned out to be…

I had been walking for only five minutes by the time I reached the waterfall so I figured I ought to carry on going because I still had loads of time to kill; I wasn’t to know that I would end up walking endlessly. I had been pre-warned to make sure I stuck to the trail because apparently it is well known for people to get lost out here, so I did my best to stick to that, although it proved very difficult as they snow lay more and more. I used my explorer’s instincts to guide me in what seemed like the right way; searching for footprints and looking for clues of human interaction. I seemed to be doing well, and I was having fun achieving something I hadn’t accomplished before; that being a snow hike, crawling up and sliding down little slopes, crunching through fresh crisp snow and coming across icicles; it was a true winter experience.

I had been trudging through deep snow for what felt like hours, when maybe it was only about two, when I started to feel exhausted, but I was sure there couldn’t be much more until the end so I carried on going, determined to succeed on my mission to reach completion. There were moments I wanted to just sit, rest and not go any further, but that wasn’t an option. I had been walking uphill surrounded by the same environment for ages. Although it was quite possibly the most beautiful background I had ever seen, it was becoming daunting because it felt like I was getting nowhere. My hair had literally frozen stiff it was so cold and I knew if I stopped it would be so much harder to force myself to keep going. I knew that the longer this took me, the less chance I would have of finding my way; the snow hadn’t stopped laying, and the ground beneath me was growing higher and higher. I had practically lost all sighting of the trail, so I was going by carvings in the trees for reassurance at this point. I remember thinking about the times I had pushed myself out of my comfort zone and what it felt like to reach the end, on some of my previous adventures; as well as having little choice, that too was just enough to motivate me. Eventually I reached a cliff edge, with probably just enough room for me to pass, and although I wasn’t convinced it was the right way, it looked like it was the only way forward, so I went ahead and climbed over, holding on for dear life to any form of nature I could grab, in hopes I would not step foot on anything unstable, because I could have quite possible fallen to my death. I don’t think it was too far until I reached safety, but at that moment it felt like it went on forever; it was truly exhilarating, but I would be lying if I told you I wasn’t terrified; the adrenaline was well worth it though. Shortly after my adrenaline rush, I came across a bridge, which to me felt like a breakthrough; I can’t possibly be far from the end now, or so I thought. The battery on my phone was running low now, so I decided to check where I was on Google maps; luckily I had just enough signal for that. It told me I was just five minutes away; sigh of relief. Surely Erica would be back to pick me up pretty soon so I had timed that perfectly. I was really stunted for energy now, and getting over that bridge was such an effort, especially when I had to pull all my weight just to get onto it. Once I reached the other side, I was stumped; there was literally no way for me to track my next move. No signs of life, no faded footprints, no carved trees, not even any animals, and the only sound was the river flowing beneath me. I looked back at the direction I had come and the thought of going back made my stomach crawl. What are the chances I would even be able to find my way back? The snow had been falling so thick, and I had been walking for such a fucking long time. And that cliff edge… fucked if I am doing that again. Crap, I’m stuck. On the plus side, at least I found a landmark. That fact alone I think was what kept my mind at ease, because if worst comes to worst, at least someone would have a better chance of finding me if that were the case. At that moment, I received a message from Erica, asking me where I was. Of course, I didn’t know the answer to that, and the truth was, I was lost. We worked together to try and figure out my location and how to get me back to her, but neither of us had any idea where I was and apparently I was nowhere near to the end; I was a really long way away. I wasn’t particularly worried until the moment she informed me of this, even though the thought had crossed my mind. I tried to remain calm, for the sake of my sanity, but it wasn’t long before I started getting anxious. This was my worst nightmare. I felt terrible for letting Erica down, and I had no idea how long it was going to be before I would be found. I just wanted to get out, but I was trapped, alone, in the freezing cold, with wet shoes, and no food. I tried to be smart, and sensible, but I had failed. I suppose it could have been worse, but it didn’t stop me freaking out. I had resorted to calling emergency services; I felt like such an idiot and I couldn’t help feeling like I was overreacting, but I didn’t know what else to do. I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to make anything worse than it already was. I can’t help thinking if I had no responsibility to return I would have not cared. I would have just kept going, until I finally found civilization again, but that wasn’t the case; people were waiting for me, relying on me. I cried as I waited apprehensively for my rescue, from both uncomfortable pain and emotion; so many overwhelming thoughts were floating through my head. I had so little energy; I didn’t want to waste it, but I couldn’t hold back. The moment I snapped myself out of breaking point, two fellow hikers appeared, to reluctantly inform me that all I needed to do was go back in the direction I came from. I wasn’t so convinced that ‘following their footprints’ was a good idea, plus the rescue team were already on their way so I made the executive decision it would be best to stay right where I was. That human interaction almost instantly allowed me to pull myself back together and I came to the realization that help would be here soon and everything would be ok, so after a couple of indecisions, I made the settlement of actually heading back in the direction I came from; I didn’t want to be of any more of a burden to those on their way, so the least I could do was make a head start.

To my surprise, three men appeared and accompanied me back to where I needed to be. They were strangely understanding, and really friendly, they provided me with walking sticks and tried to urge food, water and clothes upon me; even though I was adamant I did not require it, because I had actually come prepared, and the return journey was done with almost complete ease. I have no idea how I managed to make an hour long hike become four, but apparently all I needed was a guide. I literally cannot tell you how embarrassed I was about this experience. And you know the worst part about it all? It was that I had been right all along; I didn’t go off the trail, not once. Literally all I needed to do was turn around… But what a story right?