#and it turned out hORRIFIC

[petrichoraline]

부석순 - 파이팅 해야지 (Feat. 이영지)

[densewentz]

more dreamling dad au bc thats just what i do now apparently i like lazy afternoon naps and so do our boys

[maxcuntstappen]

Honey wake up new Max reaction image just dropped

[twobeesinatrenchcoat]

Needles needles needles needles

[starry-bi-sky]

more cfau miscellaneous things because Childhood Friends Danny and Jason have my head and heart always and I need to finish rewriting chapter two dammit (and redo the half-finished chapter 4 because its just Not The Vibes). i'm almost through I need to get through the graveyard scene. (i just stubbornly refuse to have it be shorter than the original chapter and thats the little death. that is the mind killer.)

Danny and jason’s ghost forms both smell faintly like burnt flesh and cigarettes. However, Jason has a more smokey smell while Danny’s smells almost,,, electrical? In a sense? Like he just straight up smells like burnt flesh and sulphur while Jason smells like someone put him in a smoker first.

It’s very much an unpleasant smell but Danny finds an odd comfort in it just as much as he finds a comfort in the smell of nicotine.

(Jason post-revival smells burnt flesh once and is immediately offput by the fact that it brings him an instinctive comfort. He doesn’t realize its because it reminds him of Danny, and is uncomfortable by it.)

-

In an au of an au, Danny’s altercation with Rath ends with Rath regaining enough of his sanity to snap out of the grieving state and ends with him breaking down. Instead of being souped and imprisoned, Rath, who is permanently 14, decides to Move On into the unknown. He’s exhausted, heartbroken, and tired.

(Is this influenced heavily by the ParaNorman scene where he talks to Agatha and helps her move on? Yes. But it doesn’t fit with the Original Storyline so im shoving it into an Au of an Au.)

Rath tells Danny that Jason lied to them (which he genuinely believes), and that he’s tired of waiting/looking for him/grieving. Jason is gone. He isn’t coming back, he abandoned them. And he wants his mom and dad, and his sister, and his friends. And he’s ready to join them.

He leads Danny out to Gotham, which other than Amity Park might’ve been the only city left untouched due to Rath’s own mental block on the place. They go out to the park he and Jason used to frequent or up to one of crime alley’s rooftops, and there Rath lies down and goes to sleep. Only to never wake up again, materializing into nothing as his soul moves on.

Before Rath leaves, he forces Danny to promise him that he’ll only wait for Jason for ten years. After that if he doesn’t find him, or if Jason doesn’t show, then Danny has to move on. Whether that be like how Rath does, or if its inly mentally/emotionally, doesn’t matter. He has to move on. Don’t wait for him. Don’t waste his time any more.

(“Oh, and if you find him, kick his ass for me.”)

Danny reluctantly agrees, and Rath lies down. Danny sings to him as he falls asleep.

(Angsty points if the vigilantes including Red Hood caught wind of their presence and were silently watching from the shadows. Rath might know they’re there, but Danny’s too focused on Rath to notice.)

(If only so that Red Hood realizes that this is what happened to Danny, and that Danny is gone before he can make things right. The tragedy, folks. The angst. The initial realization that Danny was Rath, and then also that Danny was dead and has been dead for years, and that before he moved on, he moved on believing that Jason abandoned him.)

(like i said it doesn't fit in the original timeline/storyline hence why its an au of an au and isn't nearly a fleshed out, but i was largely just focusing on the tragedy of Rath moving on and Jason being alive to see it and realize just who Rath is.)

-

Just like how the Lazarus pits shot Jason's twiggy 4'6-5'4 (depending on what you find) feet tall and 86lb ass up like a tree an essentially fixed his malnutrition, the portal did the same thing for Danny.

(granted i forgot about malnutrition and danny's likely stunted growth at first -- his family lived in crime alley and despite both his parents working, I don't think they had enough food all the time. He probably wasn't as badly malnourished as Jason was, but he wasn't healthy either.)

Granted his ghost in its "natural" state (14) is short, and his growth spurts were slow at first, it did result in him reaching his dad's height. There were points where it just happened overnight, like a baby. He went to bed one night 5’6 and woke up the next day 5’10.

Jazz is shorter than him. Although I have't decided if she's even liminal at all (and if she is, it didn't cure everything because she would have also suffered childhood malnutrition, and since in au canon their parents didn't get their hands on physical ectoplasm until after they got to Amity Park. So the exposure is less.)

-

Danny's voice absolutely sounds like canon Dan's. It kinda just dropped one day when he was 16-17 and never went back up. Sam and Tucker sometimes ask him to just talk about anything because they find his voice soothing.

I'm not sure yet how Danny would feel about it at first considering Rath, but I imagine that Rath, when he did speak, would have had a quieter and scratchier/weaker voice considering he's spent the last decade shrieking and crying.

(and i suppose technically that shouldn't have any effect on his throat considering he's a ghost and idk if that would actually affect him, but i like the idea so im keeping it)

In the beginning you could hear him from a mile away by the sound of his loud, echoing wails, but ten years later you can only really hear him by the soft, shuddering sobs he makes. Like he's gasping for air that isn't there. The future is full of very quiet survivors.

And it's much easier to speak when you pitch your voice upwards (especially when whispering/speaking quietly) so he might've spoken in a higher, airy pitch in order to be heard. So Danny might actually find a comfort in having a lower voice.

[trans-axolotl]

my professor who mentored the psych survivor zine project showed up for jail support and was one of the first people to hug me today after I got out of jail this morning 😭💖 I almost started sobbing in their arms on the sidewalk tbh

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Trimax Thoughts Vol. 2 Pt. 2

Or, Wolfwood is a terrible liar and that's actually way more compelling than if he was good at it.

Wolfwood is quickly becoming one of my favourites in this series. I love a character with a good internal conflict who challenges the protagonist, and he's such a delightfully odd little critter of a man which makes him doubly enjoyable to me. He also causes me emotional damage, which kind of sealed the deal.

So, let's review what we know about his situation so far: He is, allegedly, a traveling priest, but his other job, the one he makes most of his money with, is some kind of dirty business (given the company of the Gung Ho Guns, it is likely as an assassin or a hired gun). Legato hired (?) him along with the rest of the GHG, and we know the fate of anyone who fails or tries to run. He knows this too - he can't leave. He's trapped. There was a two-year time-skip between Fifth Moon and his return in which he was searching for Vash, allegedly about the mass disappearances. We don't know fully what his current situation is, but given the GHG's continued orders, the recognition by Rai-Dei, and the way he knows way too much about Knives, it seems likely he is still stuck working for him - from here, it's still unclear what exactly his orders are, but it seems likely he is set up to betray or antagonize Vash later on.

This seems like it should be the set up for a character who has to lie constantly. Setting up smiles and earning the trust of their target. Their conflict about their mission vs their budding attachment being a deeply internalized struggle that slowly bubbles up to the surface as time goes on.

Wolfwood (kind of?) tries to do this, to be fair. But. He is so bad at it.

(Fair warning: this got LONG. I am sorry in advance.)

He is not a good liar. He doesn't even come up with a proper reason to explain his knowledge of Knives. He does not make any active effort to win Vash's trust. His internal conflict bleeds out of him to the surface almost right away and is glaringly obvious. He's just. So bad at not seeming suspicious. Here's the prime examples:

In his first appearance, he responds to Vash questioning how he makes money as a priest by practically admitting he has some kind of side job with a troubled and more serious expression than he's worn in the entire chapter (his eye is pale instead of dark here - take note of this btw this is important!). He doesn't even know Vash. Vash is some random stranger he just met on a bus. Why are you telling him this.

He reveals his giant cross is actually a giant gun with no lead up or warning whatsoever in front of a very startled Vash. He never explains why he is carrying around a giant cross-gun.

He says he's been looking for Vash for two years but the reason he gives is the mass disappearances, which only started six months ago.

He reveals that he knows way too much about Knives to not be associated with him in some way. Vash is obviously suspicious and asks about it, to which Wolfwood replies that he has a grudge against Knives and that he'd explain it later. ...he proceeds to never explain it.

Wolfwood gets annoyed when Vash says he's meeting with someone but it's a secret, to which Vash points out Wolfwood is hiding things too. Wolfwood just says "..." and. Does not deny this.

Wolfwood once again reveals he knows way too much about Knives. Vash is obviously suspicious by now and questions him again to which Wolfwood deflects in the most obvious way by changing the topic entirely and saying "Oh look a sandworm wow that's a big one!" Which. Does not fool Vash at all? That wouldn't fool anyone? You just made yourself more suspicious???????

Wolfwood and Rai-Dei clearly recognize each other. Vash is left looking between them in confusion while Wolfwood, once again, does not try to explain away anything - which would be a good thing to do, considering Rai-Dei is one of the Gung Ho Guns and he would probably want to... not imply any connection to them?

In short. What are you doing. What are you doing???

It's so funny to me because this is 100% an "I know/I know you know" kind of situation, and they could be playing mind games about this or leaning on that but instead they're just both blatantly ignoring the giant sandworm in the room. But it makes sense for these characters and is way more interesting in this case - after all, the core conflict so far revolves around second chances, and changing your life, and not killing so that people have a life to change. If Vash was unaware of the potential threat of Wolfwood, we could chalk a lot of his amicability with him up to ignorance, but we can't, because he isn't ignorant at all. This in turn makes Vash utterly confounding to Wolfwood, which makes his internal conflict not as much about the situation surrounding Vash, but about Vash himself, and what that may say about Wolfwood's own character.

Also, I personally think it's really fun to see how silly they are together in spite of all of this looming over them. Disagreeing on something so major as life and death coupled with Wolfwood's obvious suspiciousness - they really probably... shouldn't get along?

It's not a completely unfounded dynamic though. They met once, before Wolfwood knew that he was going to be made an enemy to Vash, and they clicked. Very easily. It was a brief meeting but it was impactful enough that Vash immediately recognizes him two years later.

And Wolfwood's eyes are dark when speaking with him.

Ok! Now I get to delve into the entire reason I wanted to make this post in the first place - it ties in firmly with Wolfwood being not great at lying or hiding his intentions.

Tristamp Vash voice: "You can see it in his eyes."

No. Seriously. The manga does some really interesting things with shading to draw attention to specific parts of a panel, such as shadowing entire faces to display rage or indicate "something to be afraid of", shading things in gray to emphasize them in the scene... and in Wolfwood's case, making his dark eyes look pale to indicate his emotional state, in what I have now taken to calling the "Wolfwood pale eyes of distress". I use distress to specifically encapsulate emotions like fear, desperation, feeling trapped, and internal conflict - strong, negative emotions that become more overwhelming the less control he has over a potentially threatening situation. Here's some examples:

So, yeah, his eyes are extremely expressive. Not only is he not a great liar, but his eyes pretty much always complement what he's feeling or saying - they give him away. Small wonder he's typically wearing sunglasses when interacting with people. Wolfwood appears to be somewhat aware of his eyes being giveaways... but I think he may have misinterpreted what exactly they reveal. He seems to think they reveal his darkness; the "devil" he's had to become. I can think of no other explanation for why his eyes are firmly shut in the nightmare sequence as soon as the kids run up to him.

^ This caused me immense pain btw. Not only is he keeping his eyes shut in front of the kids, he keeps that smile fixed on his face - the panel on the side is clearly internal. So he's... doubly hiding himself. He doesn't want to scare them, or for him to see the "monster" he's become so he smiles and acts like everything's fine even though he's pained. Hm. Sounds like... someone else we know...

However, what Vash sees is not some devil.

The ending of the Rai-Dei fight is when the budding conflict between Vash and Wolfwood reaches a breaking point. Interestingly, Wolfwood starts this fight without his glasses, but puts them on somewhere between Rai-Dei mentioning the Gung Ho Guns know where Vash's home is and Wolfwood deciding to interfere - which really means aiming to kill Rai-Dei. It's interesting he should take the time to put them back on like that. It doesn't really matter though, because we see his eyes anyways as he shoots Rai-Dei dead.

Ah yes. The eyes of a man completely unaffected and not at all bothered by the act of killing. Note the paleness again. They're like that all the way through this scene. The glasses do manage to cover his eyes in the next bit where he proceeds to shoot Rai-Dei again three more times. Hard to read his expression here but I'm assuming he went somewhat blank. He mentions later that he shoots twice in the head, twice in the heart - this was probably a "finishing of the job"; he's on autopilot - and so he doesn't actually react at first when Vash punches the glasses right off his face.

My actual reaction when I read this: OH???????

The glasses are off now. His cover is gone. And Wolfwood goes "to hell with it" and all but reveals that he's probably going to be a future threat to Vash.

Wolfwood takes the gun he just used to kill Rai-Dei, presses it into Vash's hand, aims it at his own head and tells Vash to shoot. Now, disregarding the fact that this is such a normal thing to do (sarcasm...), the intention here is pretty obvious. Wolfwood genuinely thinks that someone has to die for others to live, and because Vash won't kill, he believes he is the one who has to do so. If Vash would face threats with lethal intent, if he would dirty his own hands, then Wolfwood would trade his life - but they both know Vash won't shoot. However, I'm not sure if Wolfwood consciously realizes what he all but admitted here - pointing the gun at his own head, "so you won't hesitate to take out the next man who gets in your way"... they've both been dancing around the issue of Wolfwood's suspiciousness but here he might as well have said "I'm a threat. You know I'm probably a threat. Why don't you defend yourself? How can you be this naïve?" And all the while he's making full eye contact - probably expecting to have revealed that darkness within him. But Vash does not see Wolfwood as a devil. He sees him as playing the role of one. Vash is upset with Wolfwood here, but he's also upset for Wolfwood. Vash sees right through him to his inner conflict and pain, the same way Wolfwood saw through Vash to his pain.

Backtracking a bit.

Remember how I commented close to the beginning of this that Wolfwood's eyes are dark when he speaks with Vash again after two years? The way the conflict builds between them is really interesting too, because it doesn't really start as an argument (or at least, that's not how I took it).

I think I saw someone on here commenting on how funny it is that Wolfwood is expositing Plants to Vash, which is for the reader's benefit probably, but is still an interesting way to segue into the moral conflict that will characterize them in future.

Explaining the Plant and resulting conflict in straightforward terms. "We've had this talk already." Stating what he sees as simple truths of the world bluntly but not unkindly. Rapping on the door and wanting to finish the earlier conversation, and suddenly I realized "wait. wait."

He's. It's almost like he's trying to teach him. Like one would explain things to a child who doesn't yet understand the world's harsh realities. Which is so funny for so many reasons.

For one, Vash... plays along? Just because, I guess? Look at that intense look of concentration while Wolfwood educates him about what Plants do. He is being very attentive and listening really hard. Also, the next part too is just...

Vash, sniffling: "Why do things like this have to happen?" :'(

Hjdhfdjhb??? (Like he definitely is genuinely upset but it's not like he doesn't understand... the little pout after too...)

For another, I'm so fascinated that Wolfwood initially decides that Vash must just not understand the ways of the world because like. He's seen his scars before. He can see Vash's scars in this very scene. You can't chalk that up to naivete... but if it isn't that, then Wolfwood can't understand it, so he leans into this interpretation, despite having to know that it's wrong.

For as much as this sounds kind of condescending of him, I don't think he really intends it that way - he may think the pacifism is naïve, but he doesn't actually see Vash as a child. It may be somewhat automatic for him to approach it this way, because I'm assuming Wolfwood's positive interactions are mainly with children, and again, I don't think he's trying to start an argument here. He wants answers out of Vash, because Vash confuses him, and, after Fifth Moon, scares him too.

When he finds Vash again two years later, his eyes are dark, not pale. He's not scared of Vash in that scene, not the same way he was when he witnessed the Fifth Moon event. He greets him on fairly friendly terms and seems decently comfortable around him - enough to laugh at him, scold him, and share/fight over food. But there is still that moment of trepidation, where Wolfwood carefully brings up Fifth Moon and is clearly trying to gauge Vash's reaction. This is the random guy he met on a bus two years ago who seemed human enough. This is also the same guy he witnessed blow a crater into a moon, revealing himself to be something much more powerful and inhuman than he could understand. I believe a lot of this early questioning - the poking and prodding at Vash's morals, the watching to see what he'll do, is Wolfwood's attempt to reconcile these very conflicting views.

Unfortunately, instead of his questions and challenges clarifying things, they only muddy the waters further for him. Vash's actions, that kind of selfless-looking pacifism, is completely unexplainable by his current worldview - worse, the continued survival of Vash's pacifism directly conflicts with it. As Wolfwood's inner conflict is uncomfortably forced to the forefront of his mind where he spent his whole life repressing it, Vash becomes more unsettling to him, and the moral conflict, which started as an attempt to understand and question becomes confrontational. Vash's no-killing philosophy should not be possible to maintain, and Wolfwood responds by becoming more reactive and terrified.

When thinking later, he straight up says he's never seen someone put other's lives above their own. He nearly died as a child and the only thing that saved him was raw survival instinct. He's had to fend for himself. No one came to help. No wonder he doesn't have much hope. He thinks that to be human is to eventually succumb to the harshness of the world and to join that never ending cycle of violence (no matter how much he hates it) - notably though, he's not like Knives, who believes that humans are born bad. Rather, he seems to believe that people become corrupted, are forced to become "devils", over time and due to the inhospitable world they have to struggle to survive in. If he really believed humans were inherently bad, he wouldn't try to hide his eyes and bloodied hands from the kids (innocent!). It's why he can recognize Rai-Dei and the rest of the GHG as human, even when it's claimed they have given up their humanity. To Wolfwood, that in itself is just a part of being human.

Funnily enough, it is Vash's kindness surviving against all odds that cements him as something inhuman in Wolfwood's mind. And not only does seeing Vash as something not-human bring back some of the terror he felt during the Fifth Moon Incident, but it also puts Wolfwood in a very uncomfortable position of having the necessity of his darker actions be called into question. Vash is now threatening. And Wolfwood starts to respond to that threat in the way that is most natural for him.

There's some extra complications here too though - Wolfwood definitely cares about Vash too, at least to some extent. Their first meeting had none of this baggage, and Wolfwood expresses some worry about Vash's smiles not being genuine. They fall into a pretty natural, easy dynamic after one meeting and a two-year gap. He also shows a level of protectiveness really early on - that was the purpose of my funny little counter I did on a previous thoughts post, but let's look at this particular instance right here:

Return of pale eyes Wolfwood, who is genuinely concerned and pissed off. At first I assumed that Wolfwood was running to go after the still-present threat of Keele but the next time we see them, Vash is getting patched up and Wolfwood is standing in the room with him - the part where Wolfwood is running there is him trying to get medical help. This is not even bringing up the part after where he pulls out the tobasco sauce. (As an addition, it's also the last time he calls him "Vash" instead of "needle-noggin" - endearing nickname, or an attempt to distance himself? Who knows. Not Wolfwood, I'm sure.)

I do wonder if Wolfwood focused on some of the commonalities between them at first to attempt to bridge the gap between his conflicting images of Vash - I am not sure whether he's... well... self-aware enough to recognize that he also hides pain behind a smile and a pair of glasses, but they both sure are in uncomfortable positions of being wielded as weapons by Knives. The panel where Wolfwood tells Vash Knives is on the move again while he is superimposed directly below the spike jutting out of Knives' chest drives me insane. The threat of death looming over him like that. He’s trapped. Then there's the witnessing of the Fifth Moon incident, in which Vash's arm was quite literally hijacked and control taken away from him. Now, I understand this is mostly my assumption here but I don't think it's entirely unfounded - Wolfwood's expression when he watches this is a bit more detailed than the rest of the GHG, who mostly look shocked or scared - he looks that way too but there's also a furrowing of the brow that complicates the expression. Vash is screaming. Wolfwood's previous lamenting of the cycle of violence he's trapped in happens on the heels of realizing he'll be working against Vash. And when he finds him again, he's certainly wary, but not accusatory. I do think, terrified as he was by the implications of what Vash and Knives are and that sheer level of power, he does understand that Vash was being used and not in control of himself. I expect this is probably why he took the "grudge against Knives" angle - he recognizes Vash's anger and says "me too" - drawing a line of commonality between them.

But as the gap widens and Vash demonstrates clear differences that are unexplainable or otherwise threatening to Wolfwood, he becomes more discomforted and antagonistic as a result.

It all boils over after the Rai-Dei fight. At first, Wolfwood doesn't interfere in the fight because a) he knows Vash is competent, and b) he's a jerk sometimes and clearly thought him having a gunfight against a swordsman was funny. But that changes when it's revealed the GHG have located and are going to target Vash's home. The sunglasses get slipped back on. That's the point at which Wolfwood starts to go for his gun. Vash has turned deadly serious, and has told Rai-Dei to get out of his way, and Wolfwood probably assumed that this would be the exception to the rule - that's what he keeps saying, after all, that people will kill to defend those they love.

Instead, Vash tells Wolfwood to stay out of it, knowing he is intending to shoot Rai-Dei, and I do think that's the moment the conflict went from disagreement to actual anger.

What Wolfwood is not seeing is that Vash doesn't kill to defend the memory of someone he loved. That's not information Wolfwood is privy to, so while they are both protective people, the way they go about protecting is entirely different, and it's been there since the beginning.

This is a really cute scene, first of all. He's good with those kids. He crouches down to their level, splits the coins up evenly between them. It's kind of like saying "we're in this together"... and it's notably very different from what Vash does - that distance he maintains, and the way he probably would've given everything. Wolfwood keeps some for himself. As he puts it, for the sake of the orphanage kids, he has to stay alive, and that means prioritizing some lives above others, something that Vash refuses to do. But I think Wolfwood misunderstands that Vash sacrifices so much not because he "isn't human and therefore can", but because doggedly pursuing Rem's ideals and protecting humanity from Knives is just about the only thing keeping him going. Wolfwood doesn’t understand that Vash needs to believe that kindness exists in people’s hearts because he cannot understand how one could go on living otherwise.

Neither of them really have lives of their own, nor do they value themselves much. But they both continue to survive out of dedication to the paths they’ve chosen. Wolfwood kills to save the living - specifically, the kids and now Vash (it also assures he has a reason to keep fighting for his own survival - he can’t protect them if he’s dead). Vash refuses to kill to preserve the memory of someone who has died, Rem (again, this assures his survival, at least to a certain point - he can’t stop Knives if he’s dead). There’s something really interesting in that contrast, that leads them both to a “better me than them” mentality - Wolfwood the role of the weapon and Vash the role of the shield. But either way, this is, I think, why it’s hard for them to understand where the other is coming from at times, even though they see each other’s pain so clearly. These are worldviews they stick to stubbornly, born out of trauma; their respective ways of processing their continued survival from all that has happened to them.

Wolfwood is afraid to die, but he also has no hope for himself. While deeply conflicted by his actions, he has to believe there is necessity to them. So when Vash is confronting him, telling him he’s been crying out against the role he’s taken on this entire time, it shakes him, because he’s pushed all that down for so long, and it’s true. And I think he wants to believe that Vash’s sentiment is possible, but to him it just seems like false hope, even if he doesn’t want to be hurting people either. But if Vash is right, then that is even more distressing. It means that maybe he didn’t have to become a “devil”. That justifying the use of lethal force by necessity was never a justification at all. He goes from sinner with a cause to just a sinner. In that sense, him taking his own gun and putting it in Vash’s hand, aiming it at his own head and telling him to shoot if he really thinks he’s wrong… it reads as a punishment.

Not a bit of this would’ve been as effective if we were left to wonder about the characters’ intentions. Wolfwood being a bad liar, or really, not bothering to lie much, is interesting character wise and focuses the conflict on his and Vash’s internal persons and motives, rather than the external situation. I find it works much better to highlight Trigun’s themes that have cropped up so far.

Ok. I’m going to stop here because this is very long. Holy shit sorry. I just really like his character a lot and I’m excited to see where this conflict goes. They both raise some really good points that are difficult to reconcile.

I hope this actually made sense lol. We’ll see if it holds up when I get further into the manga.

[jessenitrogen]

EUUUAGGHHWG (earthspark spoilers)

I HOPE PPL WHO HAVENT SEEN THE REST OF EARTHSPARK HAVE THE EARTHSPARK SPOILER TAG BLOCKED I HOPE TO GOD THEY DO

FROM THE WORMS WE CAME FROM TO WORMS WE RETURN

[doroinoue]

fuck it whatever we posting ugly art from now on

[clarionglass]

yeah, we all knew this one was coming. 5395 words, if you're wondering exactly how bad the brain rot has set in ^^;

----- deja vu (sam reich!master cinematic universe, part 2)

Right from the beginning of Game Changer, Sam had had a small monitor in his dressing room where he could watch the show being recorded. He'd always appreciated it being there, but never quite understood the point of having it, if he was going to be on stage hosting the shows himself. 

When his doppelganger was hosting, though, being able to watch the show while hidden away was absolutely ideal. 

Since Escape the Greenroom, the pair had been less cautious about being seen in the building together. It was always more enjoyable to debrief immediately after a show, and besides, they had their secret weapon. The magic technology that kept anyone from thinking too hard about two Sams in the one place had turned out to be nothing more than a small lump of circuitry attached to a key on a loop of string, and whichever Sam wasn't on set at the time held onto it and watched the session from the dressing room. It was an extra precaution—hell, if everyone knew Sam was in the middle of a recording, why would they be going into his dressing room—but it was handy to have nonetheless. 

It didn't work if you knew what you were looking for, though, so when the door creaked open and his doppelganger walked in, pure glee painted across his face from ear to ear, he turned his megawatt smile on Sam straight away. 

Sam raised his eyebrows. “Good record, was it?”

“Oh, was it ever.”

“Well, great!” Sam replied. “You were pretty keen for this one, glad it lived up to expectations.”

As his double nodded with satisfaction, Sam's eyes flicked back to the monitor, now showing a view of backstage, and Trapp, Ify and Siobhan talking quietly to each other. 

Something felt off. They didn't seem distressed or anything bad, bad, but the energy between the three contestants was weirdly muted. As it was for everyone, actually. Josh, Zac, Brian—the general vibe backstage was sitting noticeably lower than usual, particularly with such big personalities in the room. 

“How'd the cast take it, though?” he asked. “They all look exhausted, was everything alright?”

His doppelganger flapped a hand dismissively. “Oh, they're fine. It was just a long record.”

“No longer than usual,” Sam said, with a brief glance down at his watch and a frown. “We had seven loops planned, right? And you definitely didn't get through all of them, you only did, what—”

“Five, yeah,” his double agreed, speaking with him. “For the episode, we ended up recording five.”

There was an odd tone in his voice as he said it, an emphasis on the specifics that was just a little too weighted. Sam grimaced. 

“I'm sensing there's a but coming.”

“Yeah,” his doppelganger admitted slowly, then grinned, a bright, twinkling expression of pure mischief. “We actually ran a lot more loops than that.”

“Wait,” Sam said, “wait. No, you didn't, I was watching the entire thing.”

“Come on,” his doppelganger shot back, a bite of impatience bleeding into his excitement. “You really think I'd fight to do the fake time loop episode and not throw in a real time loop or five?”

“Oh my god.” It was all Sam could say, and he really couldn't tell if he was impressed, or dumbfounded, or just really fucking worried. “Oh, my god. What did you do?”

The giddy delight shining in his double's eyes as his smile broadened even further, brilliant and infectious and only slightly predatory, did nothing to calm Sam's nerves. 

---

The first loop went well enough, and confusingly enough. Weird trivia, questions that clearly had an answer, but no way of working out what that answer was, cameos that didn’t seem to relate to anything—it was strange, but you knew that was what you were getting into when you signed up for Game Changer. Trapp, Ify and Siobhan knew that there was a solution to it, but they’d just have to work until they found it.

And then Sam pulled out that bizarre dance that he expected them all to join in on, and accidentally kicked Kevin’s camera out of his hands, and the three of them shuffled offstage for a two minute reset.

-

The second loop, the pieces were starting to fit into place. The trivia was a memory tester; the weird questions had answers that could only be worked out with knowledge gained in previous rounds; Zac’s—sorry, Grant’s—spaghetti was going to cause problems by way of Brian’s podium inspector; the list went on. 

This time, it was pretty clear that the kick wasn’t accidental. 

-

The third loop, everyone knew they were dealing with loops right from the start. 

-

“I think my watch battery is dead,” grumbled Ify on the t̷͖͗̅h̶̥̔͗i̴͉̞̊r̴̭͘d̵̢͔͌̈́ loop.

-

Loop aft̵̐͜e̷̘̓r̵̩͊ ḽ̵̞́o̷͉̬̼͈͘ö̸̖̠̭́̈̀p̶̡̣̖͂ ạ̸͌͘f̸̱̲͐͗t̶͈͐̇ẻ̶͇̮̄ř̷̤̗͝ ̷̹̌l̸͎͎̔̀̅̀̀̕ò̸̢̨̜͓̳̮̀̕o̶̮̕p̵̪̫̠̝̘̒͒͗̚ͅ, ad infinitum ad nauseam. 

-

A few loops in, Siobhan watched Brian get paler and paler as he examined the trio of podiums. And this time, he was actually taking the time to look at them properly, not just making an act of peering through that stupid little magnifying glass in order to justify a foregone conclusion. He was acting weird, even for him.

Still, he put a good face on it, declaring each one dirty in increasingly elaborate ways, just as he had every time before. Something had clearly rattled him, though, and it made her uneasy in turn.

“Sir? Excuse me, sir?” she said, just as she had the last few rounds, and smiled sweetly with a dollar bill folded in her palm. As Brian came over, she locked eyes with him, hoping the look was enough to convey her question.

“Camcorder, Jan ‘97,” he muttered as he took the money, and had given her the (bribed) point and hurried backstage before she could ask what he meant.

She knew the video he was referring to, it was one of his. Creepy, definitely, but very well-done, all about rewinding tape and rewriting time. And—yeah, man, duh. This was the time loop episode, apparently, so why state the obvious? And why so cryptically?

Unless… unless it was something to do with time loops that wasn’t to do with the format of the episode. 

How long had they been recording, anyway? All their phones were in the box backstage, Ify’s watch was dead, she wasn’t wearing one at all, and with her and Trapp on the outside podiums, there was no way she could ask him without making it look stunningly obvious. But it had been a while, for sure, and Sam wasn’t showing any of his usual signs of wanting to usher the recording session towards a natural conclusion.

If anything, he was looking wolfishly pleased with the way things were turning out. He'd even favoured Brian with a wider grin than usual, where Brian's own smile had been kind of watery. 

Another part of that video, Siobhan couldn't help but recall, was that sinister, looming silhouette.

-

Through more and more loops, and the brief interludes they were granted backstage, they’d worked out the rules, sort of. People weren’t affected by the loops resetting, they carried through pretty much as normal. Objects didn’t, though. Things on the set, like the ducks, the money in their envelopes, and the spaghetti stuck to their podiums, reset to the state they were at at the beginning of what they’d begun to call “Loop 3.0”. Things brought across the threshold of the set, like Zac/Grant’s plate of spaghetti, or Josh’s balloons, reset as soon as they crossed over that boundary.

Josh hadn’t had a good time when he realised that one. While the contestant cast and the cameo cast were kept separate backstage, the contestants had to assume that Brian would have told them everything he’d worked out. The next loop after Brian had given his hint to Siobhan, the contestants had to watch a very good character actor try to keep control of the creepy clown role while going through a moderate existential crisis. It was uncomfortable to watch, stuck at their podiums and unable to help. At least they could mutter a few words of encouragement each time they went up to pop a balloon, and the same with Zac and Brian each time they came by to mess up or inspect their podiums. 

It was good to have that connection, brief as it might have been. They might have been stuck, but at least they were in this fuckery together.

The crew, though, seemed to be immune from feeling the weirdness they were caught up in. Or—no. Not immune. Exempt. They weren’t trapped in the loop, they were part of it, moving along their set tracks like automata. It took the cast a while to work that one out, because Sam kept time perfectly, interacting with Ash when she brought out the contraption and the jar of beans as if they were having a normal, fluid conversation. But then Ify spotted that the camera operators were moving completely out of sync with the cast, and Trapp noticed that only Sam’s half of the interaction with Ash ever changed, and the illusion fell apart from there. The crew wouldn’t be a lifeline.

And speaking of Sam… Fuck, it was a hard one to swallow. He was their boss, their friend, and they’d all known him for years—hell, he’d come through for each of them multiple times. Until now, he had been pretty unequivocally a Good Guy. But it was becoming harder and harder to ignore the signs that Sam Reich was the puppeteer of this entire shitshow.

He was still pretending to not know what anyone meant when they expressed frustration with the loops, but the words were accompanied by a twinkle in his eye that said he knew exactly what was going on, and was staunchly refusing to help. He was delighting in their discomfort, even more so now the cast knew just how fucked they really were.

He looked like Sam, he sounded like Sam, every single mannerism was something that the cast knew intimately. But the personality driving his actions was wrong. Maybe this guy wasn’t Sam at all. Fuck, if they’d suddenly been catapulted into a reality where time loops were real, maybe so were evil clones, or brain-snatching parasites, or—no, the magician great-grandfather lore from Escape the Greenroom was still a stretch too far. But given the choice between believing that a weird sci-fi plotline was true, when another one was literally happening around them; or believing that their friend had secretly been some kind of torturer with access to sci-fi tech the entire time they’d known him—the decision wasn’t particularly hard. 

“We have to stop him from kicking the camera,” Trapp said quietly, as soon as they had all huddled backstage. “That’s what he’s going with as the trigger.”

“It could be another bluff,” Siobhan interjected glumly. “More fucking misdirection.”

Trapp shot her a look. “You got anything better you want to try?”

“I can get between him and Kevin if I’m quick,” Ify volunteered, the tallest among them by a good half a head, with a build to match.

“See what happens,” Trapp said. “But be careful, yeah? Don’t get yourself hurt.”

“So what’s the way to get out?” Siobhan asked, as Ify nodded his agreement. “There has to be something, I might start killing people if I let myself think this is actually completely random.” She paused for a moment, thinking. “Popping the right balloon? Or winning the video game?”

“Or unlocking that,” Ify suggested, nodding to the green chest that had been sitting on the table the entire time. 

“Yeah,” Siobhan and Trapp agreed together.

“Cool, so we try and—”

“Sorry, y’all, but I’m supposed to take your phones?” Kaylin interrupted, holding out the box as she always did. 

By virtue of podium order, Trapp, then Ify, then Siobhan noticed it as they walked on and gave their introductions. Something had changed.

The point totals on the podiums read 14, 9, 14. The points they’d ended with in Loop 3, not started with. They’d survived it. Time was moving.

-

“Sam, look over there!” Siobhan exclaimed as she entered, and dragged a couple of boxes onstage with her in no more subtle a way than she did the last time. 

Trapp got it, he really did. These loops had been… wearing, was probably the best word for it. “Sadistic” was a bit too harsh, particularly when nothing actually bad had been happening (and to be honest, he didn’t even want to risk thinking too badly of the person who seemed to be pulling all the strings in this scenario, in case he somehow noticed, and decided to turn the heat up), but… yeah. Wearing. So he understood why Siobhan might be trying to keep things the same. Making the group less fun for their host to play with.

The trivia rounds were chaos, as always, and passed in a jumble of noise that Trapp was only half focused on. A quiz show was still a quiz show, even if it had descended into some kind of weird time loop purgatory, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to be first on the buzzer regardless. Maybe the points were the way to get out of this whole shitshow, who could say. But when Ify and Siobhan started to have their exact same argument over the equation question, complete with Ify’s triumphant twerking, Trapp felt his stomach rise into his throat, as if once again, the ground had been cut out from under him.

“Yeah, Solzhenitsyn,” Siobhan nodded in response to a question he hadn’t asked, and his blood went cold. 

Sam, or possibly ‘Sam’, looked him dead in the eye and winked. 

“Next up, there’s a little game I have just for Mike Trapp,” he said with a smirk.

Tinny music started up, and the bright colours of that infuriating video game popped up on the screen, but Trapp didn't care. There wasn't any point in pretending now. 

“You fucker,” he said, walking close to eyeball the host. “You mother fucker.”

‘Sam’ just wheezed with laughter, exactly as the real Sam Reich would when a contestant insulted him out of annoyance at the game, and for the briefest of moments, Trapp had his doubts. Everything about this man said Sam Reich, every tiny detail. Had he really been hiding this all along?

“You were doing great playing as a team,” ‘Sam’ said once he'd regained his composure, looking at Trapp with wide-eyed sincerity. “But that's not really the point of the game, now, is it?”

No. Sam, actual Sam, wouldn't do this to his friends.

“What have you done to them?”

“To them? Nothing,” whoever the fuck this was said brightly. “To the studio, though… Well, it would take too long to explain, and you wouldn’t understand most of it anyway. Let’s just say I can run this whole place like a VCR, and the only two people who wouldn’t be caught up in it right now are you and me, bud.”

“That’s fucked up,” Trapp said, as Ash, deaf and blind to their conversation, came out with the giant jar of beans. “That’s just fucked. Let them go.”

“Aw, but they’re probably having a better time than you are right now,” ‘Sam’ said, mock-serious. “They think time’s finally moving ahead for them, remember? And anyway, do you really want to be arguing with little old me when you’re wasting your one chance to earn points without any competition? It is an individual game, after all.”

Trapp’s eyebrows shot high. “Are you saying only one of us gets out of this? You sick fuck.”

‘Sam’ just shrugged and smiled, looking meaningfully at the empty podium. “Do you want to risk it? The choice is yours, Trapp, but time's a-ticking.” His smile flashed. “Or maybe it isn't.”

-

“Next up, there’s a little game I have just for Ify Nwadiwe,” ‘Sam’ announced.

Yeah, no shit. Ify wasn’t an idiot, even if his point total was sitting below his fellow contestants’. He’d been checking his not-actually-dead watch at the start of every loop, so he knew right from the off that even though their host had been gracious and let them pass through one gauntlet, it sure didn’t mean that the time fuckery had finished. 

This run, though, was looking extra screwed up. Siobhan arguing loudly with him about things he didn’t even say this time was the final confirmation. He was alone in this loop, just him and the guy who was running the show.

He knew that ‘Sam’ knew that he knew that he was the only person who wasn’t stuck. So he waited, staring flatly at the person who had taken over the host’s podium, watching to see what move he would make.

‘Sam’ just smiled. “Left or right?”

Alright, so that’s how he was going to play it. Yeah, no, absolutely not. 

“Nah, nah, nah,” Ify said instead of engaging, because it didn’t really matter. In his peripheral vision, the game kept scrolling through. “Fuck that. What’s the win condition? What do we need to do to get out of here?”

“Play the game,” ‘Sam’ replied.

“Shut the fuck up, man.” Ify shook his head, and ‘Sam’ chuckled like he’d told a good joke. “We’ve already done that, and it’s got us exactly fuckin nowhere. You put us in this thing for a reason, so there’s gotta be something you want to see happen.”

‘Sam’ blinked at him innocently. “Who says this isn’t exactly it?”

Ify took a deep breath. “Let me get this straight. You’re saying we’re in here, doing the same shit over and over again, until you feel like you’ve had enough?”

“In a nutshell,” ‘Sam’ beamed, “yes.”

“Fuck you, man,” Ify said, shifting his weight to lean more heavily on the podium. “Fuck you.”

“Noted,” ‘Sam’ said brightly. “But I wouldn’t spend too long being mad at me, because—” he broke off, giving the front of Ify’s podium a significant look, “—you’ve got quite a lot of ground to make up, in… well. Who can say how much time?”

“Fuck you,” Ify repeated, and ‘Sam’ just laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

-

Ify was taking too long to name a goddamn Keanu Reeves film, again, and Siobhan had had just about enough. So when he stalled, and stalled, and still came up with the same title he’d answered in the last round, grinning like he’d just got one over on her, she could have screamed.

And then she remembered where she was, and who was asking the questions, and her heart sank. They weren’t done yet, apparently, and this time she was completely on her own.

She playacted the rest of the argument, that and the equation question, and hated the fact that even to her own ears, she was sounding more and more shrill as she shouted, because yeah, it’s panic-inducing to continue a screaming match with someone who doesn’t even register that you’re there. Every word was another reminder that she was trapped.

And then the melodrama stopped, and ‘Sam’ smiled at her. “Next up, there’s a little game I have just—”

“—for Siobhan Thompson?” she finished with him, voice dripping with sarcastic surprise, just like she had in Loop 3.0. 

“That’s right!” ‘Sam’ said happily. “Now. Left, or right?”

“No,” Siobhan said.

The man in front of her raised his eyebrows. “No?”

“You’re not Sam, which means I’m not fucking playing. So, who are you?”

“Sam Reich,” he answered quickly, easily, naturally.

Siobhan frowned. “No. Bullshit. Who are you?”

“Sam Reich,” he repeated, sounding somehow even more sincere, and genuinely confused that Siobhan would be asking. Fuck that. She wouldn’t take it. Couldn’t take it.

“No. Bullshit. Try again! Who the fuck are you?”

This time, instead of doubling down, he paused. “Do you want to know a secret?”

After a moment, she nodded warily. He beckoned her close, and slowly, cautiously, she left her podium, walking up to this devil in the shape of a game-show host. Close enough to see his eyes properly, and how truly, deeply old they were.

“Even if I told you,” he stage-whispered, those ancient eyes sparkling with terrible glee, “it wouldn’t make a single bit of difference.”

-

“Did you just—”

“Yeah. And—”

“Yeah.”

The three of them were once again huddled backstage, debriefing. 

“So, are we allowed to do this?” Trapp asked quietly. “Because he seemed pretty against the idea of us working together.”

“Didn't say anything to me,” Ify shrugged. “And I don't see another way of getting out of this if we don't share stuff. And even then—sorry, but I think we're here til he wants to let us go.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Ify said. “Because we got the game, we got the key, we opened the chest, and here we all are again, so I dunno what we have to do. I asked him point blank about the win condition, and—”

“He made it sound like the points, to me,” Trapp interrupted.

Ify nodded. “Me too. But he also pretty much said we're here because he's having fun. I don't think the points are it.”

“So we can lose, but we can't win.” Siobhan's voice was dull.

“C'mon, Siobhan,” Trapp said encouragingly. “We'll get out of it. We've gotta have hope.”

Siobhan just looked flatly at him.

“Look, there are silver linings, okay?” Trapp insisted. “Not many, sure, but enough to look for. Like, because it means our actual friend isn't fucking with us—this guy isn't Sam, that's for sure.”

“I'm not…” Siobhan started, and winced. “This is going to sound bad. But I'm not even sure he's human.”

Ify exhaled deeply.

“Don't give me that,” Siobhan snapped reflexively, and Ify raised his hands placatingly.

“I'm not saying I don't agree,” he said. “It checks out. But it's heavy going, that's all.”

Siobhan nodded, looking calmer. “He still wouldn't say who he is, but… I saw him. The real him, up close. And yeah, he's the spitting image of Sam, but… fuck. People don't look like that behind the eyes.”

“Jesus,” Trapp breathed.

She just nodded wordlessly in reply, and despite knowing that it was costing them valuable discussing time, all three lapsed into silence. What could you say to that sort of revelation?

“The microphone,” Ify said abruptly, and Trapp and Siobhan’s eyes both swung to him. “I mean, I’ve still been thinking about win conditions. Or at least how he’s controlling the loop, and how we can use that.”

“He said he can run it like a VCR,” Trapp added. “But I’m not sure how, I assumed it was something in his podium—”

“But he keeps drawing attention to the microphone,” Ify continued. “Every single goddamn loop.”

“So we break it,” Siobhan said decisively. 

Trapp made a face. “Or steal it?”

“Whatever. Either way, we get it out of his control.”

“Sorry, y’all,” came a familiar voice, and they all had to stifle a groan. Planning time was over.  

The game started back up again, and—the point totals were as high as they remembered. The set was just as dirty. All promising signs. 

And then their host’s eyes turned to Siobhan after Ify’s successful run at the video game, and her stomach clenched. Even though the time loop continuing was the worst possible scenario, departures from his routine were never a positive thing.

He gave her an indulgent look. “But, Siobhan.” 

She was focused, she was prepared, she could handle whatever he threw at her. “Yes.”

“Because it is the last round of our game…”

Oh.

The buzzy little chiptune started up again, but to Siobhan, Trapp and Ify, it didn't mean a thing. The words “last round” rang in their ears sweeter than any music.

All of them knew it was probably false hope. Nonetheless, it was better than nothing. Something to cling to as they trod the motions of the remaining questions.

And then the cameo cast and all the crew came onstage when the wenis music played, and that certainly had a grand finale type feel to it; and Kevin didn’t get kicked in the face, no matter how much he was darting around in what had suddenly become a minefield of flailing limbs; and whatever it was that was wearing Sam Reich’s face led them all through more repetitions of the routine than usual, radiating manic joy the entire time.

“And stop!” he yelled as the music cut out, throwing his arms wide and looking around frantically as if the camera remaining intact had any fucking bearing on the time loop whatsoever. “Kevin, did we get that?”

The cameraman pulled open the now heavily duct-taped camera body, then looked up, scripted embarrassment mingling with scripted regret. “There’s no tape in the camera.”

And with that, their host turned away from him to look straight down the barrel of the main camera, favouring it with an open smile of pure, uncomplicated enjoyment; the sort of smile that invited you to share in it with him, no matter how strong the hatred that burned in your veins. “That brings us to the end of our show!” he announced happily. “Our winner tonight: Mike Trapp!”

“No-one’s a winner,” Trapp cut in, shaking his head. “No-one’s a winner here today.”

But even so, he was presented with a cool watch, and the confetti cannons went off, and they left the set for longer than two minutes and weren't called back at all, and finally, finally, they could let themselves believe it. 

The loop was broken. They were free. 

---

“What did I do?” Sam’s doppelganger repeated, pausing for a moment to think. “Oh, nothing awful.”

Normally, Sam would be content to let that slide. But just lately, he’d been getting a weird feeling from his doppelganger, and there was too much grey area between ‘something good’ and ‘nothing awful’ to be comfortable. “No, seriously.”

“We just ran the recording a few more times,” his double huffed, his smile fading—not quite impatient, but visibly put out, somehow, like he didn’t feel sufficiently appreciated. “Look at them, they’re fine.”

“I am looking at them,” Sam said. “And that’s why I’m asking. They’re my friends, I can tell when something isn’t right.”

His doppelganger hummed briefly, moving next to him to come and look at the monitor, and—just for a flash, less than a second—Sam felt the hair on the back of his neck rise when his double passed behind him. 

“Maybe you're right,” he said slowly, after watching the feed for a few seconds. “Okay, I'll fix it. I'll have a chat to them.”

Sam exhaled, relief washing over him. Of course there wasn't anything to be worried about.

“Thanks,” he said.

His double just smiled faintly and nodded, then left the room.

Sam turned back to the monitor, waiting for the moment a minute or so later when his double would appear in the frame. And sure enough, he did. The sound setup was only piped in from the stage, and even then it wasn’t the best quality, so Sam didn’t have a chance of hearing what was actually being said. But he watched as, without exception, every single cast member flinched when his doppelganger touched them lightly on the shoulder to get their attention. 

The conversations were quiet, with a gentle sort of intensity. His double seemed to be focused on making sure each person felt acknowledged—Sam couldn’t recall him breaking eye contact with anyone he was speaking to—and whatever he said, it seemed to work. One after another, he spoke to all the cast, contestants and cameos, leaving calm in his wake. And when he had talked to the last one, and everyone looked settled and genuinely at ease, he shot a look of pure satisfaction towards the backstage camera, and headed out of view.

“Thank you,” Sam said again when his doppelganger returned to their dressing room, and received a gracious nod in reply. “Just out of curiosity, though—what did you tell them? Because fuck, it worked like a charm!”

His double tilted his head, half-smiling. “Oh, you know. All the right things. That I was very sorry for anything that might have gone weird during the recording, that I wasn’t feeling like myself, that it’ll never happen again… Oh, yeah—and then I wiped their memories.”

Sam coughed. “You what?”

“Wiped their memories,” his double repeated matter-of-factly. “It was the simplest solution, really. Everyone stays in continuity, they’re blissfully free of any… more troubling memories, our cover isn’t blown—it’s perfect.”

“No, hang on, you can’t—”

“I can, and I did,” his doppelganger replied. “I fixed the problem—which you asked me to, I might add—and now everyone’s back to their regular happy selves. It’s a totally closed system. The only person who knows it happened at all is me. Oh, and you, of course.”

Sam frowned.

“Besides, this way, you don’t have to worry about having to work out the overtime for a time loop, because they’ve got no idea what the extra pay would even be for,” his double added breezily before he had a chance to say anything, then snapped serious. “And don’t look at me like that, Samuel Dalton Reich, because you were thinking about it. I know you.”

Unfortunately, he couldn’t deny it. The tiny part of his mind that was always in Dropout CEO mode had been grappling with the ethical and financial implications of a time loop and getting nowhere, and the relief of not having to deal with it was like a fist unclenching.

“See?” his doppelganger said, meeting his eyes with a pointed sort of kindness. “I know what I’m doing, Sam, I’ve been doing it for a very long time. And it’s better for everyone like this.”

“I don’t—” Sam started, faltering. On the one hand, there was something intuitively and viscerally horrifying about his friends having their memories wiped. But on the other… 

“If you don’t want to know,” his double said softly, and god, it gave Sam the shivers to hear his own voice used that way, “there is a way around it. I thought you’d rather be a part of everything that’s going on, but…”

His eyes caught and held on Sam’s like magnets, and—something had shifted behind them, something small, but with a seismic effect. He was pinned by that gaze, trapped, electrified; wholly unable to look away.

“I can do the same for you as I did for them.”

On the other hand… his double was right. It was kinder, probably, if they didn’t remember whatever they went through, and in that moment, he realised he couldn’t even begin to guess what that was. And… it was definitely easier.

“No,” he said, and when the word came out as a whisper, he cleared his throat and tried again. “No. It’s okay.”

His doppelganger blinked, and the spell was broken.

“Great!” he said brightly, back to his usual cheerful self, with all traces of that scary side—that dangerous side—folded neatly away. “You know, I really didn’t want to have to do that to you—you’ve been so much fun to work with, it would have been a shame to have it all come to nothing.”

And Sam, feeling like a marionette with its strings cut, hated the fact that he agreed. Even with everything that had happened lately, he couldn’t deny that the electricity that came from working with his doppelganger, the sizzle of pushing ideas just that bit past the boundaries and laughing uproariously at the result, was liberating. Exhilarating. Addictive, almost, a heart-racing excitement that sang in his blood.

Maybe the danger was part of the game. And as long as nobody came to any harm, he could keep playing.

“Just… promise me one thing, okay?” he started, and his double turned wide, patient eyes on him. “Promise me I won’t have to see anything like that again. There’s nothing we can do to change this now, but I can’t let it happen again, yeah? They’re my friends, and there’s a line.”

“Sure,” his doppelganger agreed. “You’re right. And I do like them, so—hm. I’ll treat them like I would my own friend.”

“Thanks,” Sam replied, finally letting the tension drain out of him. “That means a lot.”

His doppelganger just nodded in acknowledgement, then clapped him on the shoulder and grinned. “C’mon. We’ve got more work to do.”

----- missed an installment of the sam reich!master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): you are here!

[thatrandombystander]

Jesus fucking christ every single sequence with Val in The Silt Verses has me having to pause the episode to go

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

I read Hussie's author notes and they were so disappointing. He dismisses Eridan and gamzee as one-dimensional nastyboys, he claims Rose and Dave's true arc was to refuse their quests and they just needed to stop feeling guilty about it, and he says karkat's final frog didn't even matter and he was just worrying over nothing. There's so much potential clearly written in and he just throws it all away bc lol. Your analysis is so much more nuanced has so much more thought put into it both with regards to who these characters are as people and the role they serve in the plot. I'd take your ideas over what hussie thinks is canon any day of the week.

this is super funny to me because i absolutely take what hussie says into account like all the time HAHAHA

Like genuinely I go back to their formspring/tumblr/forum/book notes all the time to see how on-track i am with my analyses. If you like whatever bullshit i'm talking about, then you like hussie's writing!

[mywaywardcupcake]

Wishship Week Day 3/Feb. 21st: Twist of Fate

Day 3 for @wishshipweek. This day ended up being unfinished. It started as a fic which I quickly realized was becoming too big for me to finish for a prompt day so I switched to creating art for it instead and ended up sick and had to do more of a sketchy concept instead. My idea for the fic/art is the twist of fate that lead these two boys together. Jounouchi’s decision to leave the gang and not go with them to Rintama lead him to Domino. Yugi’s decision to continue the puzzle even though he’s struggled with it for 8 years (and deciding to bring it to school one day) that lead to him meeting Jounouchi. In the art piece they are both feeling good about their decisions, even though they have gone through so much darkness and hurt beforehand. Something inside them is tugging on them to continue this path, that this will be the year that things will be different. An invisible string of fate that lead them to each other.

[transfemmesam]

ocd sam means so much to me

[20doll]

With all the Google AI BS happening right now, I’m so happy to be using DuckDuckGo and desperately hope they never attempt something like this. I genuinely do not understand why Google went and thought “Oh! Surely feeding our LLM results from spaces on the internet where people can post quite literally anything is a marvelous idea, let’s implement this!”, especially since said LLM clearly cannot detect satire or joke posts if it isn’t clearly stated. Obviously, none of us should be taking anything the internet says seriously without fact checking, but I am vaguely concerned about how naive young children/older people who haven’t adapted to the magical world of the web are going to take things like this, for instance. Haven’t we learned our lesson from ChatGPT hallucinating the most random shit and not accepting “That’s incorrect” for an answer?

[why-is-it-always-autumn]

every time i think i know what worm is about i see a post like "did [character ive never heard of] effectively utilize girl power when she [horrific human rights violation]?" and I have to try to figure out how tf that fits into anything