#and otherwise they have to confront it sooner or later and i’d rather now than college graduation in four years

[littlemissmanga]

One Last Order, Part 2

A/N: I finally finished! I started this in March and brought it kicking and screaming over the finish line. And I decided to make it my entry for the "Rex" square on my Clone x Reader Bingo Card, so bonus. @clonexreaderbingo

Pairing: CT-7567/Rebels!Rex x Fem!Reader (no physical descriptions beyond age markers - gray hair/wrinkles/etc.)

Rating: E, 18+, Minors DNI

W/C: 6,402 (this got away from me I'm so sorry. I did edit, this is with about 1,000 words cut)

Warnings: Explicit intimacy, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, descriptions of depression (past if you squint) Please Read Responsibly.

Summary: The years piled on and dragged you down after your love left you. Eventually, you found renewed purpose in helping the Rebellion. When you finally have to hide away or risk being caught by the Empire, you're forced to confront your past. The question remains what will become of your future.

One Last Order, Part 1

This is right.

You kept repeating that to yourself. Over and over in your mind until you thought you could believe it.

This wasn’t the first time your arms dealing had gotten on the imperial radar. “Subversive trading” was you had called it when you first established contact with a local cell.

But it was the first time that Erie, your main point of contact, pulled you out and didn’t relocate you.

That’s what felt so wrong — the fact that you were here, in the base that acted as headquarters for the Rebel Alliance,and not still out there. You could still be out there. Stealing from the Empire right under its nose, redistributing resources and passing along the best findings to various rebel efforts. Even helping the occasional force sensitive pass unseen along your stop on the Path.

“Scowl any harder and you’ll scare everyone away.”

Erie had a brow raised, her teasing tone managing to still keep its edge as she turned to give you her full attention now that you were safely inside. Your sigh did little to relieve your worries, but you used the exhale to release some of the tension in your stance.

“I just don’t-”

“No, you don’t. That’s the point,” she was firm without being harsh as she cut off your well-worn argument. “No one in the field ever has the full picture for everyone’s safety. You’re just going to have to trust me when I say this was our only option. Otherwise, you’d be staring at the inside of an imperial cell sooner rather than later. And you’ve grown on me too much to be left out there on your own.”

A not so small seed of affection squeezed at your scarred heart and you let the corner of your mouth tilt in the smallest smile.

“Fine. Just … Just put me to work soon, okay? I want to be useful.”

“Oh, honey!” Erie barked, her sharp laugh tinged with just enough steel to make you almost regret your request. “Don’t you worry. We’ll run you ragged soon enough. For now, though, there’s not much that needs doing that isn’t already getting done. You’re allowed to take a night to adjust.”

She passed you a slip of flimsy with a rough map of the base on it. Several of the rooms were circled with descriptions.

“If I knew you were short on datapads, I’d have lifted a few before leaving. Kriff, the Rebellion must be struggling more than I realized.” You teased, bringing the page closer to your face to make out the poor writing.

“Har har. You’re a riot. That’s for safety too, smartass. Datapads can be sliced.”

Erie took your wrist in her hand to bring the page between you and pointed to a circled room on the left. Your bunk. Private for now, but she warned that would likely change soon. Your eyes tracked the path on the page as you gave a nod. “Got it. I’m going to start unpacking. Wanna help?”

“I would, but I’m needed at a mission debrief in a few.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you later, then.”

“Definitely. I’ll grab you before dinner and introduce you to everyone.” She answered with a brilliant smile. “Ya know, there are a couple of real cuties here you should get to know.”

Your laugh came out easy enough — as easy as it should in a lighthearted conversation with a friend. But it was a little thing, all breath and tinged with bitterness. “Oh no, I’m far too old for that nonsense.”

“You’re not. And they’re going to come sniffing even without my interference.” Erie’s eyes swept down your figure pointedly.

You know she means well, but you can’t help that the thought of anyone looking at you that way again — the way he had — makes your breath catch in your throat. It threatened to choke you.

“I’m right and I’m not arguing this.” You force a lightness into your tone you don’t feel and grab for your bags before she can respond. “Have fun at your debrief!” You call over your shoulder, heading down the hall to your quarters.

Squeezing the strap in your hand, you took a deep breath, allowing the feel of the leather against your palm and the air expanding your lungs to ground you. It stopped you from spiraling, but it didn’t stop the heat from spreading across your cheeks.

It was embarrassing, after all. You could admit that objectively. It’s been years since he left. You understood his decision then, and you understood it now. You never actually agreed with him. But you remember his eyes when he gave you that last order, begging you to listen. And you couldn’t bear to tell him no.

And so he left. Left to go do whatever it was he felt he needed.

And left you alone.

Back then, you wanted to hate him, to burn away the phantom touch of his hands on your skin, to gnash your teeth at the whisper of his name and to curse the day he came into your life.

But even as the grief permeated your every cell, moving from your mind to morph into a physical shroud that mutated your body in its image, you couldn’t find the strength to hate him.

It wouldn’t have helped anyway. It would have only calcified your pain into a tool to hurt others.

So you let the years slip by, shrinking your world into something that you could manage — your apartment, the odd jobs you took to keep yourself fed — all the while shrinking your heart and closing it off. The numbness prickled at your consciousness, but you found it more bearable than the pain of loneliness.

Of wanting him and no one and nothing else.

That is, until you got a job stocking shelves at a mechanic’s shop. A boy came in one day looking for a new filter for his air circulation system. While your boss grumbled about the difficulty of procuring pre-imperial parts, you caught sight of the insignia on the inside of the boy’s jacket as he moved to grab a handful of credits.

For the first time in longer than you’d care to say, determination had flooded your veins. You couldn’t change the past. You couldn’t walk by his side.But you could help this boy, this new movement in their fight for their better tomorrow.

And maybe, even distantly, it would help him, too.

You still didn’t let too many people get close. It’s easier this way, you had rationalized. Easier to lie. To steal. To disappear in the dead of night and start your operations over on a new planet whenever Erie tipped you off to an upcoming raid.

Now, though, as part of the Rebellion proper, you’d likely find safe distance harder to maintain.

It hadn’t been too hard to relearn the rhythm of banter between friends when you opened up to Erie. Hopefully, that will be true for the others you meet. And it won’t be too hard to scoff off attempts by any young guns set on impressing you … if Erie was to be believed about their intentions, anyway. You had serious doubts considering you were at least a decade older than most of the contacts you’ve met.

What would be hard is if you saw any of them. You knew a few had joined the ranks, offering their expertise and lifetime of training to the cause. Of course some would. It’s in their DNA. It’s all they’ve known.

It isn’t fair to them, but you weren’t sure you could handle seeing their face. His face.

You still loved him. No matter how small you made your world, made yourself, you couldn’t change just how thoroughly he claimed your heart. Even now, with Erie’s comment rattling in your brain, you could feel your stomach gurgling, pushing you to pause as you come to the next turn.

Another deep breath. In. Out.

Pulling your shoulders back, you start again … only to run into what feels like a wall when you face makes contact with hard duraplast.

Oh, kriff.

“Dank ferrik! Watch where yer going!”

The growl was unfamiliar, the tone harsher than anything he ever directed at you. But your body reacted to that voice before you could gather a rational thought. Heat surged through your blood even as cold fear sent your stomach into a freefall.

“S-sorry.” Your eyes focused on his jaw, unwilling to look higher until you caught a glimpse of a small scar on his neck.

He didn’t have that.

Tilting your head back, you finally met the man’s gaze. Luck was on your side as your eyes traced over the raised scar bisecting one eye, the cybernetic beneath analyzing you.

He didn’t have that, either.

Wolffe. You had met, briefly, when you joined the boys at 79’s a lifetime ago. But it was just the once, and if luck continued smiling on you, he wouldn’t remember a thing.

“I’m, uh, new. I was just focusing on finding my way and wasn’t paying attention to much else. Sorry about that,” you said, forcing a small smile to ease the tension. From what you remember hearing among the guys, there wasn’t much that could ease the overwhelming aura of Commander Wolffe. But hey, it couldn’t hurt to try.

“Better learn to multitask, then.”

You tried to ignore the way his eyes narrowed at you. “Sure thing. Sorry again. See you around.” The words tripped off your tongue with less grace than your feet as you clumsily slipped past the clone commander to continue down the hall.

You could feel his intense glare burning your back all the way to your room.

*****************

Callused fingers slid back and forth across his forehead in a vain attempt to alleviate his headache. The mission had been a success, technically. It still took all his self control not to drill the crew of the Ghost for their sloppiness.

They were a solid bunch, but by the Maker they made things needlessly difficult. The debrief took far longer than necessary just cataloging all the supplies that didn’t make it home. It almost — almost — made him nostalgic for his more regimented days in the GAR.

He did miss assigning latrine duty to mouthy troopers. Too bad he enjoyed the freedom of the rebellion a little more.

Leaving the briefing room, Rex strode down the hall toward the mess, heavy footsteps rebounding down the durasteel as he checked his comm. Curiously, it had gone off during his meeting. Everyone who had his frequency was either in the room with him or had just returned and was settling in for their respective post-mission routines.

His curiosity only grew upon seeing the culprit was Wolffe. His brother never interrupted a meeting, the GAR indoctrination still proving pervasive in his mind. Slightly worried and even more curious, Rex hit the redial button.

“Finally,” Wolffe grumbled through the comm as his likeness was projected above Rex’s wrist.

“Remind me never to rely on you for patience, vod,” he teased, unable to resist riling up his brother even more. “What’s up?”

“New meat on base. I bumped into her earlier.”

“Knock it off,” Rex snapped. His small frustration from earlier immediately flared into pissed off. Wolffe knew better. “My answer is still no.”

“I have a feeling that’s gonna change this time.”

Rex’s nostrils flared and he could feel his anger spreading, tensing his muscles as if he were in the heat of battle. “Never.”

And he meant it. It didn’t help and never would.

He couldn’t regret the path he took. He had been the difference between life and death for so many brothers … and so many others since then. But with every breath he regretted what he had done to you. That last look you had given him still cut deep. Too deep to ever heal.

“When are you gonna learn that your ori’vod is always right?” The grin that curled over Wolffe’s face gave new meaning to the term wolfish.

Rex was about to tell him to shove it, but Wolffe beat him to it, silencing him with just two words.

“It’s her.”

*****************

Releasing one last breath, you sunk into the mattress beneath you, finally feeling the tension leech from your limbs.

Seeing Wolffe had shaken you, and you allowed yourself a few minutes to fall apart in the privacy of your room. You let the sting of what was lost crest over you. It passed through at a steady pace, neither rushing nor lingering, giving you time to refocus and recenter. Each inhale pushing it to the edges of your body, each exhale banishing it to the fringes of your mind. For now.

Roughly passing your palms over your eyes to dry them, you shifted your focus to your bags. The task at hand should distract you. Moving through the motions always helped you put the past back where it belonged. Besides, Erie would be done with her debrief soon and the Force alone knew how long she planned on dragging you around the base tonight.

A small smile unfurled on your lips a while later as a light knock reverberated through the door. You tossed the rest of your yet-to-be-folded clothes into the chest that lay at the food of the bed and began speaking as you walked over to the control panel, projecting so Erie could hear you on the other side.

“And here I was thinking you forgot about—”

But when the door slid open, your friend wasn’t on the other side. Where her eyes should have been stood a wall of muscle, evident even behind the chest plate. It was dingy, scuffed armor that had seen better days after too much fighting, flecks of blue paint hanging on for dear life as if determined not to fade into obscurity.

“Me.” The last word came out a whisper without your consent, your bold tease fizzling into insecurity.

If you had been hesitant to meet Wolffe’s eyes, you were obstinate in your determination to keep your gaze straight on that armor. You had never been strong, never claimed to be. But this was a new type of weakness, foreign as it flooded your bones. Your jaw trembled as all your effort was focused on holding back the surge you could feel coming.

“Oh, mesh’la.”

His sigh nearly undid you, and you could feel yourself blinking rapidly, your body fighting just to hold steady. You could. You just needed a moment.

But it seemed he had other plans. It was gentle; of course it was. He was always so kriffing gentle with you. Even when you had taunted him, teased him into being rough, it never lasted. He had spoken to you gently, guided you gently, held you gently, loved you gently.

He had broken you gently.

And now, as those damned fingers pressed under your chin to force your gaze upward, they were so heart-achingly gentle, opening the old wounds anew. He was a man built for battle. And yet you found his most brutal side in his gentleness.

Unable to resist — you never were good at denying him — you finally met his gaze.

“I could never forget you.”

Your heart squeezed painfully hearing the words you’d longed for as his rich brown eyes swept over you, taking you in. It stuttered at the thought of what he must be seeing. Mussed hair with so many more grays than before. Crow’s feet that spread from the corners of your eyes to your temples with various other lines crossing your face, interrupted only by the freckles and sunspots you’ve collected over the years.

You weren’t usually vain. But you wore the years plainly on your face … and on your body. At least if I’d been able to put on a clean shirt, you lamented.

The self-deprecation was like a jolt to your brain, bringing you back to yourself, to the present. Rex was here, in your doorway, fighting for the rebellion. It makes sense. That’s what he set off to do all those years ago. But you never let yourself wonder what he was actually doing for fear your wonderings would lead to knowledge you couldn’t survive: Him not being with you was painful; him not being was unimaginable.

But before you stood confirmation that he was alive and well.

And not once did he try to contact you.

Clearing your throat quietly, you plastered a smile on your face, the one you reserved for difficult customers and nosey neighbors, and prayed it didn’t look at stiff as it felt.

“Well, you’re not Erie.” Your tone was light and sounded artificial even to you.

Rex’s responding laugh was just as fake. “No, I’m definitely not.”

His hand dropped back to his side, but his eyes remained locked on yours, searching. For what, you couldn’t guess, and even if you could, you weren’t sure if it still existed. But you are sure that whatever is going to happen next won’t happen in the public hallway.

“Do you want to come in?” You asked, pulling back, pulling away, pivoting to let him pass to enter your room.

“Thank you.” He paused once he took a few steps in. No longer restricted to the GAR meal plan, he had filled out. His broad shoulders almost grazed the sides of the doorway as he passed through, and while his muscles were still evident, they were covered pleasantly by a layer of healthy fat that made him seem even larger than how he loomed in your memory.

As you glanced down, you caught sight of his hands, curling into fists only to unfurl and curl again. The thought that he could be just as unsettled in that moment as you felt was jarring … but welcome.

You moved to sit on your bed, gesturing to the other end for him lacking another option.

“Looks like you’re already settled in,” he noted, shifting to bend one leg to turn to face you. He wore his years, too. But they looked much better on him. His blonde hair was gone, shaved down to the skin. The full white beard was new, too, and rather impressive.

It helped that he looked different. Helped you feel like you could get through this without embarrassing yourself. And you wanted to. You wanted at least to be able to talk to him as a friend again. He may not want you the way he used to, but you could be cordial to a fellow rebel.

“Yeah, didn’t have much to unpack. I guess that’s the bright side of a last-minute extraction.” The tint of humor colored your voice a little more naturally. Confidence trickled slowly, but it was there. You clung to it like a lifeline.

“Extraction? What the kark were you up to that needed an extraction?”

Your eyes cut to his, challenging his sharp tone with your own. “What I could. What, did you think I’d be a good little citizen of the Empire?”

The hit landed better than any punch you could throw. He recoiled, if only slightly.

Guilt curdled your stomach. You didn’t want it to go this way, for the accusation to fill your voice even though you left it out of your words. But you couldn’t help that small, dark, nasty piece of who you used to be that wanted him to feel a fraction of what he put you through.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I didn’t … I didn’t want to be angry if we ever met again,” you confessed, catching the corner of your lip between your teeth. “And besides, I likely would have ended up here anyway.”

You moved to pick at your already threadbare sheet as the silence coagulated around you, thick and heavy.

“No, it was fair. More than.”

You found yourself mirroring his deep breath as he continued.

“You never were one to rest on your laurels. I just … I always liked imagining you on your home planet or somewhere in the Outer Rim, curating your library or working on your crafts. Something peaceful, on a peaceful planet far away from the mess of the Empire.”

The hint of a smile touched the corners of his mouth as the weight of his admission settled around you. You didn’t want it to comfort you.

And yet …

When Rex left, he said it was his duty to find and save his brothers. To do that, he needed to leave you behind. You always understood that to mean you couldn’t keep up. You would be a liability to his mission, one he couldn’t risk.

And yet …

“You thought about me?”

Rex’s eyes hardened, singularly focused on you as he reached out to grab your hand. Even now, as a fire you refused to name burned clearly in his eyes, he was still achingly gentle in his touch.

“I thought about you every day.” He spoke almost insultingly slowly, every word bursting with intention. “You were the thought that kept me going.”

“Then why-” You swallowed down the crack in your voice, hating how it revealed just how tenuous your control was. Rex moved closer to you, bringing his hand up to your cheek, but you leaned away and pushed it down. Gently.

“Why didn’t you come back? You never even commed.”

“I had to keep you safe-”

The speed with which he was ready to spit out the answer, like he had rehearsed it, fanned the flames licking up your spine, forging it to steel.

“That’s osik and you know it. No one is safe from the Empire, and-”

“And I realized that. Took longer than it should have to get through my thick skull, but it did. Wolffe and Gregor helped get that lesson in. So I went back to Coruscant. And you were gone.”

The shock from his admission kept you frozen so that when Rex reached for you again, you let his palm curve around your cheek. You had left Coruscant a few years after the fall of the Republic, unable to stay in the shadow of your lost life.

If you hadn’t ...

“When I couldn’t find you on planet, I convinced myself it was for the best. I had been a coward when I left. I hurt you. I thought it was to protect you, but I think even then I knew I was keeping myself safe more. Me leaving meant I would never have to see you in danger. So when I saw you also left, it meant you moved on. You weren’t hurting anymore. You were starting a new life … just like I told you to.”

His thumb moved back and forth across the dry skin of your cheek as he pulled you forward. You fell into him, your hands braced on his knees as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“But that was an excuse. I was still just a coward. I didn’t know what I could say to you that would do any good and … I didn’t want to see someone else next to you, living the life I wanted.” His eyes closed before he continued. “You deserve the galaxy, and I didn’t know how to give it to you. I still don’t.”

It was a confession saturated with guilt and shame. It crawled over you as your tears finally slipped past your control to pool against his thumb.

Safe from the weight of his gaze, you gave a confession of your own. “I never wanted the galaxy. I only ever wanted you.”

Rex’s eyes snapped open, and you could feel his heavy breaths matching yours. Before he had the chance to say anything, you pushed the words out of your mouth, letting the purest truth you knew pour out of you.

“I didn’t leave to start over. I left to escape. The opportunity to help the rebellion came to me, so I took it. It was my way of fighting against the thing that stole you from me. And … And if I did my job right, if I smuggled enough blasters, and med packs, and rations, then I wasn’t just helping the rebellion. I was keeping you safe, too.”

It wasn’t everything. It was barely enough. But you needed him to know, beyond a doubt, that your heart always had been and always will be only his.

“The thought that I could be helping you was what kept me going.”

His grip on you tightened, pulling you impossibly closer. “Can-” Now it was his voice that broke. “Can I kiss you? Please, sweetheart, can I-”

Maybe at one point, a younger you would have kept your composure, would have remained determined not to let Rex see just how desperate he could still make you.

But time had taught you well just how fleeting it could be. And you knew pride was nothing compared to the feeling of your love on your lips.

So, there was no hesitation as you closed the distance, answering the ache in his voice with the frantic press of your lips to his. The brush of his beard was foreign, the hair scraping and chafing your skin. But you couldn’t care when the familiar touch of his kiss grounded you, made you feel whole and alive in a way you forgot possible.

It hurt, feeling the small, shriveled thing you had allowed your heart to become taking up room in your chest once again, filling up with nothing but him — the feel of his skin on yours, the smell of his soap tickling your nose, the sound of the small noises that escaped his lips as he devoured yours in turn.

But it was a pain you’d welcome a thousand times over if it meant Rex’s mouth stayed on yours. This wasn’t just a kiss. It was a rebirth, the two of you breathing new life into one another.

You shivered as his tongue slid along your bottom lip. A whimper betrayed your need and you opened for him, letting him explore what has always been his. Blood roared in your ears, and you cursed it for drowning out the sound of his groan as his tongue danced along yours.

Pressing yourself ever closer, your hands slid up his impossibly thick thighs for balance as you leaned into him, needing to feel him everywhere. Thank the Force Rex understood. He always did, after all. He lifted you with ease to pull you into his lap, his arms wrapping securely around you to keep you in place as your legs slid around his waist.

But then he pulled his face away, holding you firm as your hands curled around his shoulders and your lips tried to chase him.

“I’m sorry, sweet girl.” His eyes pierced into you, and you could see how determined he was for his apology to reach you. “So, so sorry.”

“It’s-”

“Don’t say it’s okay. It’s not.” There was the captain you remembered, his tone curtailing any argument before you could even raise one. “But if you’ll let me, I plan on spending every spare moment I have making things right.”

He softened, but his eyes were just as intense. “You don’t have to answer right away. I want you to be sure; no regrets. Because if you say yes, mesh’la …” His arms tighten around you, the pressure of his strength sparking delightfully across your torso as every ounce of insecurity melted from your body and his lips moved to graze your ear. “I’m never letting you go again.”

“Please don’t,” You beg, barely letting him finish. “Please don’t ever let me go. Hold me, claim me, make me yours. Build a future with me so I never have to live without you again. Choose me ... the way I never stopped choosing you.”

The silence in the wake of your plea lasted only as long as a single heartbeat. Then, something in Rex shattered.

He may have broken you gently, but he was going to rebuild you roughly.

Coarse hands lifted you again as if you weighed nothing, throwing you onto your bed and knocking the breath from your lungs. Before you could even think, Rex was on you, his hips pressing you into the mattress as his hands slid up and down your sides.

“I do choose you.” You shiver at the growl in his throat as the words slide down your spine to pool deep in your belly. His hands slide under the thin fabric of your tunic, and you preen as his fingertips dance along your skin. “And I’ll keep choosing you. Let me prove it. Can I show you, pretty girl? Show you how I can take care of you?” 

Your eyes slipped closed as his indulgent tone; your core fluttered at the dark promises dripping from his lips. But a quick, sharp sting on your neck pulls you back.

“Eyes on me,” he reprimanded, though his smirk as he licked the skin red from his nip betrayed his amusement. “I need an answer, mesh’la.”

“Yes! Yes, please. Stars, Rex, show me!”

You should be embarrassed by how quickly you cave for him. But how can you be when Rex wasted even less time in claiming your mouth again, all tongue and teeth as he left no part untouched. You reveled in the attention, undulating hips demanding even more as your hands trailed along the broad curve of his shoulders. You followed the line of muscle down his arms, feeling as they shifted with the movements of his own hands.

Hands that locked around your hips and forced them to still. “Not yet.”

His admonishment wasn’t quite enough to dissuade you from challenging him. You pushed your core against his length, leaving you breathless at how perfectly it pressed against where you needed most.

Rex’s responding moan reverberated through you pleasantly. His dark chuckle, however, gave you pause. You’d heard it maybe once or twice, and you knew it meant trouble.

“I said …” He moved so his legs straddled yours, his full weight holding you still as he held both your wrists in one hand above your head. “Not. Yet.”

You pushed against his grip, needing to put your hands on him again, to feel him. Every inch of you needed to be touching every inch of him now.

“Please, Rex. Please, I need …” Your desperation stole your words and turned them to whines. This wasn’t the first time you felt carnal desire since he left. But you had always just taken care of yourself, quick and efficient, turning pleasure into a task like any other.

Now, you were consumed by your need.

A sweet kiss graced your lips lightly before Rex hushed you.

“I know, sweetheart. I know. But I’m going to take my time with you. It’s been so long, and I wanna take care of you right. You’re going to come undone on my tongue …” At this, his tongue made itself known as he licked a steady stripe up the side of your next, pouring fuel on the inferno raging just under your skin.

“On my fingers …” His free hand trailed over the wet skin, continuing past your neck, over your collarbone to tease mercilessly at the top of your breast.

“And once I feel you’re ready, you’ll come all over my cock.” Rex brought one of your hands down to the front of his pants, letting you feel his hardness through his trousers. “But you’ll need to be good and listen. Can you do that?”

You nod, whipping your head up and down, willing him to give you exactly what he promised now but groaning when he moves your hand away from him.

“Wound up this bad already? I believe that’s a new record. You need to use your words, pretty girl.”

You wanted to slap him for his teasing, but your pointed glare would have to suffice. “No shit it’s a record. I’ve been waiting,” you huffed.

Rex stilled. “Have…Have you not …?”

You could feel the heat returning to your cheeks so you answered before he could find his words if only to cut your own embarrassment short.

“No. I mean I took care of myself, but…”

Unbridled lust was the only thing you saw when you met Rex’s eyes again. “Then I won’t make you wait any longer.”

Using his grip on your wrists, he pulled you up and with a speed you didn’t realize he had, he stripped your tunic from your body. Before you could even register the cold pebbling your nipples, he moved to your waistband, peeling your underwear and leggings down in one move, pausing only to pull your shoes off before you’re completely bare before him.

“Kriff, Rex,” you huffed, impressed as Rex cast off his chest piece with as little regard as possible.

But the man above you focused only on your newly revealed form. You moved to touch him in return, hoping to hide a few of the new rolls of your abdomen against his.

You should have realized by now tonight was going his way.

“Let me see you, ner mesh’la karta,” he commanded. You didn’t want to, but since you never thought you’d ever get to hear another order from your captain, you obeyed, laying back and following his eyes with yours as they took you in.

He leaned down, dragging his lips over your stomach to graze the bottom of your breast with his teeth. Gently, but with the threat of rough just under the surface.

You wanted both … everything … anything he would give you.

“Perfect.” You keened at the praise, lifting and offering yourself to his mouth and earning a smile in return. “Oh yes, I remember …”

His tongue ran across your nipple before he blew softly, sending a shudder through you. You didn’t suffer long before he wrapped his lips around your peak and sucked hard. Nothing could have stopped the cry that spilled out of you as your back arched, your body mindlessly giving him even more access.

And he took every inch you gave. Releasing you with a satisfying pop, Rex reached up to turn you to face him with one hand as the other moved down your body to rest just at your mound.

“Spread your legs for me. Be a good girl and show me that pretty little pussy of yours.”

You pulled your knees up and wrapped your hands around them to pull them apart and hide how he made you tremble. The cool air, made colder from your slick, tickled your sensitive skin. But it was the reverent hunger on Rex’s face that made your cunt clench around nothing.

“Please, Rex. I—”

He didn’t let you finish your pathetic plea, instead diving forward, his movements just as desperate as you felt. His hands encircled your thighs, pushing them even further apart as he buried his face into your core and let his tongue sink into your wet hole with a satisfied moan.

His tongue laved against you, determined to touch every inch of you before gliding up to circle your clit. As your breathy whimpers turned into full-fledged cries, you absentmindedly hoped that the walls around you were thicker than they looked before Rex wrapped his lips around your nub and sucked.

A moan erupted from deep within you as your muscles contracted and sent a gush of arousal spilling out of you, leaving you unable to care who heard.

“Stars, already so wet for me. You taste like a dream.” His eyes pierced you from where he lay between your legs. “Keep your hands where they are and hold yourself open for me.”

You mewled in response as he returned to his task with his fingers now aiding in the effort, finding your clit with ease as his tongue entered you once again. His free hand slides up to rest on your tummy, pressing down but not enough to keep you still. But just enough so you can feel him as your hips kept their frantic undulation going, your body demanding the release he promised.

“That’s it,” he groaned to himself more than to you. “Good girl, taking what you need.”

Picking up the pace, Rex kept his fingers moving in tighter and tighter circles, keeping pace with your frenzied keening as he fucked you with his tongue.

“Kriff, Rex … so close … so … S-shit shit shit shit-”

He pushed down harder on your pelvis, amplifying every spark he ignited at your core as his fingers moved ever faster. “Let go, mesh’la. Let go and don’t you dare fucking hold back. Give it to me!”

Your captain gave an order. What else could you do but obey?

You shattered around him, your scream echoing against his satisfied groan as he drank from your cunt with a fierce intensity. His fingers and tongue never stopped as he forced your orgasm out of you, working you well past overstimulation into boneless compliance as you gave everything he demanded.

Eventually, the aftershocks faded. Rex’s ministrations eased, though he never took his hands off you, letting his fingers trail gently along your lips and restoking the fire in you that burned only for him.

“I love you, Rex,” you sighed, relief flooding you as the words finally escaped you after years locked away.

Rex smiled with only a tinge of sadness in his eyes speaking to lost time before he rest his head against the softness of your thigh, pressing a kiss to your skin.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

“Don’t leave me again?” You meant it as a command, but you had none of Rex’s natural authority. Well, that and your post-orgasmic state hindered what strength your voice could have had, leaving the order sounding more like a needy whine.

“Never.” Rex slid his hand back down, gathering your slick to sink two thick fingers deep into you. “Now, I believe I said something about you coming on my fingers next.”

Thankfully for you, Rex was a man of his word. He never left your side again. He kept the rest of his promises, too.

Taglist (for those you commented on pt. 1): @mzfandom @wings-and-beskar

[cold-arrow]

Doctor’s Notes, Book 5 part 16

| The tournament | Summary, things of note since last entry: Sleepover, ghost Arguing with angelo the tournament summoning, Arcane Baras Combat Healing, Duo with Angelo bloodbath healing, exsanguination support Varan. And the contract. | 1 had a bit of a surprise this morning. Woke up to a startled scream from Varan. Who had discovered that something had snuck into his bed during the night. The something being Lehel. Who had crawled under sheets and cuddled up with him…    I guess it runs in the Alehea family. And isn’t just Lym who doesn’t respect personal space or privacy during a night’s rest Needless to say, Varan wasn’t particularly pleased. And I could hear them arguing, even through my earplugs and my head buried beneath my pillow. – I really don’t get enough Good or proper sleep or rest to have deal with this kind shit, this early in the morning. I just let them argue and figure it out amongst themsleves. With the hopes they’d shut up and quiet down sooner rather than later. My wish wasn’t granted unfortunately, for Angelo had awoken by now as well. And Even Lym joined the “party” in our room upon hearing the commotion. Appeaently there was a slumberparty in their room last night, and Lehel had eventually fled, after being bitten and beaten by pillows. Seeking refuge in our room (or Varan’s bed to be precise) … I’d say I was curious as to why, they decided to have a slumber party. But I was to obusy trying to drown out the heated debate and discussion within my room. But seeing as… that wasn’t particularly working that well thusfar, I finally gave up and decided to get out of bed as well. -- when I did ask… why… Lym just said she had a “friend” over… that someone had come to visit during the night, and wanted to talk, and hangout. Even wanted or was willing to pierce her ears for her… that someone, being   HER I kind of stared at her in disbelief, hoping she was just joking around. Or that I was still dreaming. That at least would definitely explain the feeling of it all just having been a nightmare. but as she recalled, and explained how she’d spend the night talking and playing with … Her. I … couldn’t shake the feeling of that deep sinking dread settling within my stomach. Which was indication enough that it wasn’t just a dream. Otherwise, the pain of my fingernails burying themselves within my palms from the sheer amount of stress was evidence enough. I looked around room panickedly realizing that she was here. Close. Present. That she’d manifested. But the relief of not seeing her at first, was quickly replaced by my terror as I spotter Her , standing behind Lym. I quickly clambered away, and fell of my bed as I fled toward the other corner of the room. Trying to put distance between myself and Her. -- I tried to tell them, that she was standing right behind Lym in the doorway. But no-one else saw her. Lym look around her, to check, but saw nothing as she had suddenly disappeared. Trying to reassure me that she wasn’t here right now. But the moment after she said that. I could see her terrifying smile reappear behind her. Mocking me with her sadistic twisted smile, and visage. Haunting me, and my thoughts even now still.

I didn’t see her after that. But I could still feel her lingering presence. Angelo tried to convince me, to “maybe challenge her to a fight”. Not understanding why I was so terrified. I tried to fucking explain it to him, but he lacks the insight and th  to comprehend why. He… He has good intentions, but he’s an idiot if he thinks I should just go ahead and face her head on. Fight her. She’ll kill me. she’d kill all of us. And murder me. And tear me apart like my fath… I spend the next hour arguing with Angelo, as he tried to convince to confront or face her. While I tried explaining to him how bad of an idea it was. the senselessness of it. The danger, and risk, and peril. The threat of her presence. Of her entire being. At least It somewhat distracted me though, as frustrating as it was. But I had been holed up the room for… quite a while, to the point the tournament was almost about to start. When I realized that, and mentioned it to him. He said not to worry… which I did. I didn’t want him to miss his first match. And with only a few minutes left, I quickly started grabbing my stuff. Eager to get out of this place, this room. --  I was pretty sure we’re gonna be late thanks to me. but I really shouldnt underestimate his physical condition. Once I got all my stuff, and said that we needed to hurry up, he…. Simply picked me up and dragged me all the way to the colosseum in no time. Not even out of breath, when we arrived. On time… With a few seconds to spare. How is he is even real, like… his physical condition is something out of a fairy-tale or story. It would make more sense if he actually showed signs of being tired, at any point. But even that seems to be something that’s barely even registers, or is an inconvenience for him. I… pity whomever his opponents are.

| 2 Without much surprise he crushed his opponents in the first few  competitions that he participated in. they barely even stood a chance. he did loose a few matches though. By which I mean he didn’t get first place. Still top 3 at the very least. The archery contest in particular was interesting one to watch. His opponent was a knight as well. And his skills with a bow even surpassed those of Sir Angelo. Which was    Quite impressive. But if it came to any feat of strength, or a fight. He pretty much got first place in all of them. Decided to sing up for the healing tournament as well. I don’t think ill get very far. But I guess we’ll have more chances of winning the competition and grand prize if both me and Lym participate. My money is on her though. Her divine healing and restoration is a lot more powerful than mine. Im hoping to atleast make past round  two though. …   the first tournament that one us were to participate in, was Baras’ summoning match. I… wasn’t particularly keen on watching… B-B-Bethany fight, and decimate her foes. And Angelo had kept on nagging me even before the fight, to face any ghosts that I might encounter, for practice. “The first one that showed up, he’d help me fight them”. Worried, that he was gonna interrupt the match if he saw… Bethany, even after the stern talking to he got from Lym. And more than happy to take an excuse to bail on having to watch the fight. I conveniently came up with an excuse that I’d forgotten something at the tavern. Some healing supplies, that I really needed for the healing tournament. And I asked if Angelo could go with me. he… was a bit sad to have to leave the match, and not be able to watch it. But he was willing to go along. I felt quite guilty about it though, after I mentioned it…   Maybe I should have just gritted my teeth or averted my gaze from the match. But he was kind enough to go along and accompany me. And we missed the first two rounds of the summoning match. I heard from Lym later that Baras won both rounds without much issue. Neither the bats the he faced, nor the larger beast that he fought were a match for bethany’s ghostly strength. And we made it back in time to watch the third matchm against the shadow elemental or shadow-spawn, or something. it was a close match, and… terrifying to watch. Pretty sure I’m gonna have nightmares about it. cause two ethereal creatures of fear and terrir, are not particularly comforting to watch as they rip and tear eachother apart. But Bethany eventually came out on top, and Baras made it to the finals. His final match up was a bit unfortunate though for his opponent. their earth elemental turned out to be a very disadvantageous match up against a ghost. even though they’d easily defeated there previous opponents in the other rounds. But their resistances and burrowing, were completely useless against a greater spirit such as Bethany. And both Baras and her come out as the victors rather quickly after the match, I… asked Baras a bit of a favour. I congratulated him on his victory ( after making sure that Bethany was gone ) and I decided to ask a bit about her, before making my request. It seems that she was someone who used to be in service of Dave, when she was still alive. And that after her… death, she wanted to continue doing so. Baras actually even knew her when she was still alive, and was more than happy to have her help / services with his work. honestly having a bit more context made making the request a bit less difficult. Because while Angelo had escorted me back to the tavern, his incessant nagging about my “facing my fears” and “getting some practice…” I eventually made me give in, and I agreed to try and fight a ghost. Not HER  ,  but A ghost. I mean…. Exposure therapy is supposed to be good right? Bares said I should perhaps face my past a bit more. But… I’m starting to second guess whether the request was a good idea. Not sure how much of chance of I even stand against her ... against Bethany

| 3 the following and second tournament for us, was the healing one. After Lym mentioned it, I was curious to at least try it out. And I’d lowered my goal to at least make it past the first round at that point. But, it wasn’t as difficult as I first expected. Though I made the mistake of trying to use a healers kit on a… still magical, but animate creature and object. I fortunately still managed to defeat my opponent in time, and out healed him. Thus, making it actually past the first round. * I forgot to mention. The way the tournament was set up, was actually rather interesting. Instead of using real injured people. (which seemed a bit… unethical ) They had enchanted training dummies, and used these plants that would blossom and grow the more healing magic was used. An the first person to have their training dummy be inf full boom, or have the plants within fully grown. Would win. the quicker and the more powerful the healing, the better. At least my healing potions seem to work pretty good as fertilizer and plant growth. As they worked rather well on the magical seeds that were planted within the dummies. Am kind of curious now, to maybe ask to have sample of them. They might work pretty well to help test out the effectiveness of potions I make, in the future. -- second round was a bit tougher. My opponent seemed like a rather capable cleric. But thankfully Lumos was able to help me out. And used the healing I provided him with, to help me obtain victory. Along with my own healing elixirs. Lym in the meantime had crushed her first two opponents. Things went quite… neatly, the first round. But in the second one she decided to use the life transference, of… using her own blood the heal the training dummy and made a… bit a gory mess that round. -- I unfortunately, I was unlucky enough to have her as my opponent. In the third round. Decided to go all out, to hopefully at least stand a chance. But it seems that with each round, the plants within the dummy required more healing in order to flourish. I’m actually surprised by how far I got though, within the first few seconds. my healing elixirs, from both me and Lumos, being a lot more potent then I kind of expected. -- Almost giving of a light, from the red glow of curative magic stored within them. But… Lym didn’t seem to really expect me to get as far as I did within the first few seconds of our match. With my target almost being already over halfway grown, within the short time span that I had started. -- And not wanting to loose, she… managed to Instantly make her target blossom, with just a single spell. Healing her target to the point that is was completely overgrown, in flash of radiant light. And won, with what was probably the fasted “fight” or match of that tournament, I’d say. I never cease to be impressed, be the powers and divine light, and healing magic, that she wields. And I was happy, to have made it to at least the third round of the tournament. I congratulated her with a smile, and wished her the best of luck in the finals.

-- I joined Baras and Angelo again to watch Lym;s final match from within our seats. And… it sure was something to watch. Most of the crowd probably considered the healing tournament to be one of the more boring, and… less interesting competitions to watch. But Lym certainly gave them a run for their money. -- Her final opponent was a dwarven fellow. And seemed to be a sorcerer that was able to wield his innate sense of magic, and use it for healing as well. The match, started of a bit strangely though… for when lym tried to cast her first healing spell, something didn’t… it wasn’t an easy match. It got very close. And the sheer amount of healing required to get the dummy to grow and blossom was… a lot. which didn’t do Lym any favours. Both of them started of pretty strong. Healing their targets to about the halfway point in just… seconds. But after that, it was a gruelling drag/struggle to Keep the plants and seeds growing, and healthy. Her opponent opted to cure the target with as powerful a magic as he could summon. But Lym… her strategy was a lot more… gruesome. Similar to her second round, she used her ability of life transference to cure, and grow and nourish her target. Feeding the plants with healing floods of her own blood. And… she didn’t stop after just doing it once either. More and more blood she tore from her veins, as her opponent tried to keep up with her. As she covered both her target and the ground around her with her life’s essence. Her opponent seemed pretty horrified, and I think some of the people in the crowd, and staff were as well. But the majority of the crowd seemed to love the exhilarating and dramatic display of healing prowess. It got a lot closer then I would have liked in the end. She seemed to be starting to get pretty pale. And they were about evenly matched, or neck on neck pretty much. The plants within their dummies almost having fully frown to the same extent, for both of them. But with a final Surge and Torrent of her blood, the flowers and plants from her target, bloomed first. And she’d won. Thank the gods and Illmater though, that the match didnt go on for much longer though. It was hard to tell much blood she’d lost, or had left. How much she’d used. But… she had won. And had made it to last round and finals next week.

| 4 it Very much seemed like Lym could use a break after that. She joined both me and Angelo this time as we went to watch Baras’ second tournament: The Arcane combat. It was definitely one of the more flashier tournaments in my opinion. The only requirement being that you use magic, to fight. Similarly to his summoning tournament, Baras made it through the first two rounds without too much difficulty. It was the third round however, that was quite interesting in particular. for it was Varan who met him on the other side of the battlefield, once they entered the arena. Seems that this was one of the tournaments in particular, that he had signed up for as well. -- I didn’t really know who to bet on, or how would win. I knew, or I know how strong and powerfull Baras is. But Varan’s still quite the mystery and an enigma. I was pretty sure that he was quite capable as well. Considering he rides a Griffin, functions as the collector of rare and powerful books for the library, And serves Dave and all that. but I’d never seen him fight. And he’s a lot more dangerous then I expected. The match started of with him going invisible, just as Baras was about to start casting his first spell. That didn’t stop Baras however, who nevertheless decided to nuke the other side of the arena with a fireball anyways. Then, a moment later. None of us could see the battlefield anymore, as a zone darkness suddenly covered Baras half the field as well. And when smoke cleared from the sudden explosion of fire, only one half of the arena was visible. But neither contestants could be seen. The last we saw of Baras was him taking a defensive position, reading himself for any attacks from his invisible opponent. And that was it. It took a few moments for us to finally see, or hear anything. The clashing of metal upon metal, could be heard from within the shrouded area. But that was about it. After a few tense and frustrating moments went by, as nobody could see what was happening down there. Only the few clashes of metal. And few bolts of fire that emerged and shot out from the darkness. But eventually, the darkness cleared and we finally got a glimpse of them again. Baras seemed to have taking a few blows, but still seemed confident and stoic, the best I could tell. And as for Varan, I wasn’t really sure. I could only go be Baras’ state, as to how things were going. But whenever it seemed that he was about to be struck by something, He suddenly turned toward its direction of the invisible force, and made to block it with his either his staff, or armoured forearms. Landing some nasty blows I assume, as they traded. But eventually, Varan reappeared. And not long after it was Baras who emerged victorious. -- From what I could tell, Varan seemed a bit frustrated, or surprised. Or hadn’t expected for Baras to put up as much of fight or resistance as he did. -- Whatever his strategy was, it should have worked against most people I think, easily defeating them. But somehow, Baras had the better odds in this fight. And turned out that it wasn’t as much of unfortunate match up for him, as it instead was for Varan . the both of them shook hands though, and Varan definitely seemed to have some newfound respect for our warforged librarian. * I think… that an opponent in one of his previous rounds, seemed to be an acquaintance of him as well. Much to my surprise. I wonder how many people here he actually knows, or how many “employees” of Dave are here.

| 5 Last but not least was the Duo tournament, with Lym and Angelo. where there would be one, fighter. And one support. Lym seemed to have recovered quite a bit, after her last match, (though still bloody) but looked, and seemed to be feeling a lot better. though still somewhat… drained. I think the both of them, Lym and Baras, made use of the spell recovery service. ( though I wonder how much they spend on it ) Anyways, as one might expect with Angelo. The first round wasn;t even worth mentioning. Even during second round, Lym barely had to do anything, as Angelo quite rapidly defeated his opponent. She might have been a bit more tired, and done with things than I initially thought though, cause for the third match she… brought out a chair. Asking Angelo to not move too far away from her, and try to stay close. -- The gesture wasn’t really appreciated by his opponent though, and his especially their support was… not amused. Also… Angelo immediately revealed to his opponent that he would have to come to him isntead, so Lym wouldn’t have to move… Much to her chagrin. So the match started of with is opponent drawing their bow, and unleashing a barrage of ranged attacks from where he stood. With the both of them having to move up, towards side of the battlefield. With Lym casually bring her chair along, and closer as well. His opponent did put up a decent fight, and Lym did actually have to both heal and support him a bit this time. But, Angelo came out victorious nevertheless. And was more than happy, to happily / ignorantly boast about his victory, and “it being a good and hard fought match” , in his friendly but annoying way. The support of his opponent, was pretty much done at that point. And had to be held back be their fighter, as they left the arena. but, they had made to last round once more, which was to be expected honestly. Made a bit of gold as well. Betting on Angelo. Even though the payout wasn’t that good. But hopefully it makes up a bit, for the magic recovery services they bought. * Omrick eventually joined us as well, to watch the fight with Lym and Angelo. Seemed he’d been quite tired himself, and had overslept. He was happy to just watch the fights. Though seemingly still somewhat tempted to have joined as well.

… The final round. Was actually pretty scary as to how close it was. their opponent, a knight or guard of the city. And their support, a rather powerful elven cleric. Both seemed like, rather formidable opponents from the get go. that, only being proven further once the match started. Lym was hoping this fight wouldn’t be too hard as well, and that she could take it easy herself. But after the first round of blows. The guard, really showed he meant business. The elf even more so, as well. I have never seen, not even Angelo, swing as Fast and Hard, and powerful as his opponent. His support, had cast haste on him, And he seemed nigh unstoppable. After the first few swings, Angelo had already lost some of his confident demeanour. And while he was landing some serious blows as well… if Lym hadn’t intervened and healed or helped him. The fight would have been over, a lot quicker than anyone would have expected. That fact that the contestants or fighters, weren’t allowed to target/attack, or intervene with their opponents support in any kind of way, made it simply even more difficult. -- Because the hastened effect that the guard had, simply could not be stopped. He would just keep swinging, until Angelo was no longer standing. If He wasnt such a terrifying force of nature himself, I really don’t think he otherwise would have stood a chance.

Even with Lym.

But… how terrifying she can be, is a on a whole different level. If people thought the arena was bloody, during her performance in the healing tournament…. The combined amount of blood from the previous contestants, and her attempts at keeping Angelo alive… It pretty much turned most of ground to... crimson, instead of dirt. Any regular curing or healing she had, were quickly expended. So she turned to her own life force instead…   A lot sooner than she would have like I think. It wasn’t really a battle of “fancy tricks” or magic. Just Raw skill, and combat prowess. Trading blows, and attempting to heal them before they accumulate, to the point where either contender could no longer remain standing. If not for the physical aspect and condition of the fighters themselves. Their willpower alone is to be commended.    -- it was an incredibly tense match towards the end. Both sides were pretty spend already, but kept on going. With all the lifeforce she’d been tearing from her veins, Lym looked about as rough as Angelo did. Worried, seemingly having a hard time even staying upright at that point. Spend. When she looked up, and shot me a worried glance. I… immediately got up and left my seat. Began making my way towards them. To meet them. I knew she wouldn’t stop. Wouldn’t want to lose, as long as she was still standing. So I simply had to get ready… and meet them when it came to that. But with a final transference, she managed to buy him enough time. Their perseverance and grit had to pay off at somepoint. And it didEventually, Finally his opponent started slowing down. The lethargy from the haste, and its effects beginning to set in. And Angelo, was finally starting turn the tides in his favour. Until he, with a final blow from his great axe, Hit his opponent and Knocked him to ground. And stood victorious, as his opponent no longer got up. I watched with relief. And cheered for them by the entrance to the Arena. As they where showered with cheers, and eventually made their way of from the battlefield. Once Angelo saw the state that Lym was in, bloodied and bleeding, he became quite worried. And quickly beseeched me for help, once he took notice of me. -- Though I do not condone, such reckless use of “healing”  I guess. I kept my tongue, and congratulated them. Before quickly dressing some of Lym bleeding arteries and arms. Handing her one of my healing potions. Because… I cant say I wasn’t proud, and happy for them for winning either. But she, Very much needed some rest. By the end of the battle, I think she was almost in worse state then Angelo. And very much needed to take it easy, for a bit. Or the rest of the day. But they had won. Won the final round. And made it into the last match / finals that would take place later or at the end of the week

| 6 we didn’t watch many more tournaments after that. Lym, and Baras and everyone had finished theirs for the day. And were more then happy to just take it easy. And were all getting pretty hungry as well.  Though the stadium snacks were tasty, there weren’t that particularly filling. And im pretty sure hat Lym could use some proper nutrition to regain her strength, and blood count. So we just headed back to the tavern. And called it a day. … Been thinking about the contract. Hard not to honestly. It Weighs on my mind as much as I can almost feel the weight of it in my bag. Not physically, but its… I don’t know??  I am terrified of refusing an offer, from an entity as powerful and potentially terrifying as Dave. But... I am… not sure if I should. Am half tempted to just sign it out of spite, against Her. After she’d showed up again. But… would that be smart? Be wise? Is it worth it? I…. The “reward” for writing it is a bit…  lackluster as w Should I ask for more? can I? I don’t really know how, or why, or when I’m even supposed to start writing. Though I don’t think I can get away, or out under it… when I do sign it. With it mentioning of what happens if I pass aw prematu

I don’t understand why Dave is so interested either. Curious I can perhaps see. But to this extend? I… have a lot of questions still. About it. Maybe I should ask Varan we get back to the tavern. Though I havn’t seen him since his tournament. I wonder how long I can wait… He did warn me I shouldn’t hold of for too long with making a decision.

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Twenty Two | Another Medium (Part 2 of 4)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

"Hurry, ren. We're gonna be late!"

You smile down at Frisk and watch as they tug at the edge of your shirt to try pulling you along with them.

The door's left open, and even though those meant to pick you up for the event aren't here yet, they still urge you to go outside and wait.

"It's only seven, honey." Your thoughts drift back to your video call and Sans's most recent text message, letting you know half an hour later that he'd be here soon. "We've got a few minutes left." You grab their hand and put a stop to their energy, facing their eyes. "Are you that excited about starting school?"

They nod and grin wide. "Even more, if you're gonna be working there, too!"

Your smile falls as you remember the folder Sans had given you. It had been thrown into the farthest corner of your bookshelf that same day, and you'd been too reluctant to look at it any more ever since. You didn't want to take their kindness and help for granted, just as much as you didn't want to forget about your reasons for learning more about monsters. Your godmother was right in terms of you needing to understand them more, so you've established it upon yourself to bring that up during your first, official date night with the skeleton. Understanding the changes being made to the Underground could aid you with the slim chance of finding a way to either halt or delay it from becoming a big tourist attraction, and you could finally be more clear and upfront about your feelings related to the dream -- even if all of that was easier said than done. Not only had you crossed far too many boundaries with him already, but you were still keeping your dubious relationship with him, all while continuing to be wary of him and everyone else for their past. The subtle but no less irate light to his gaze when having your aunt bring up the the Judgement Hall had been more than sufficient for you to try something -- or at least, assist him and every other monster with that process.

In short, hypocrisy's absorbing you bit by bit, and today's your very first attempt at trying to break free from that. Whether you succeed or not doesn't matter. Giving it a shot, on the contrary, does. Even the slightest amount of closure achieved with your research could help in setting your thoughts straight, and -- perhaps -- to finally stop yourself from comparing monsterkind with Jerry.

To put it this way: you couldn't allow yourself one thing if you were allowing the other to continue happening.

After all, why were you willing to engage in a relationship with someone like Sans, when you were still far from forgiving and much less forgetting Jerry over abandoning Frisk for so many years?

Why were you willing to befriend someone like Alphys, who'd been close to ending up in jail due to the failed experiments made on those of her own kind?

Why were you willing to book a night at Mettaton's hotel, knowing he'd once set Frisk into danger greater than any other monster you knew had -- Undyne being a close second?

Even someone like Papyrus brought harm to them once!

"Ren," Frisk calls out, tugging your hand. "You look angry. Are... Are you okay?"

You nod and let out a breath, composing yourself. "I'm fine, honey."

"Are you still thinking about avenging me?"

Your eyes shoot wide open at that, and you can't avoid suspecting they might have the capability of reading your mind.

Regardless of their word choice, you were -- in a sense -- wanting to avenge them from anyone who'd once caused them harm, be it Jerry, the monsters, or the loud and nosy neighbour from next door wondering why Frisk enjoyed playing with action figures just as much as they did playing with princesses.

"Ren!"

Hearing their whine of concern, you snap out of it and look down to see they've let go of your hand, both their arms now outstretched and in wait for your embrace.

"Do you want a hug?"

Your smile returns at that, albeit a bit more melancholic compared to the first time. You get down to their height and pull them in for a hug, sighing when you have them safe in your hold; it feels right to have them close and in your care, no matter how much your mind insists otherwise. The question you brought up back at the Judgement Hall still feels like the most subconscious part of your mind had possessed you, insisting you turn back to how you used to be after Frisk's fall.

"You don't need to protect me that much!" they say, letting go. "I... I know all the monsters well, so I'd tell you if any one of them's bugging me. You don't need to hate them for my sake, and you don't have to compare them to dad, either." Without a doubt, if humans still had the capability of using magic and spells, you would label them a mind reader. "You should get to know them on your own first, and not just based on who they are to me. Because if that's really all up to me, then the only one I don't really like much is..."

At that, they stop; they bring a finger to their chin and tap it twice, delving deep in their thoughts along the way.

"Huh..." Frisk taps their chin again and their gaze turns furrowed, scrunching up the more they think about it. "I mean, I don't really know if I dislike any of them... I just know I wanna have friends!"

You're compelled -- if not, urged -- to argue against that, though your heart stops you from spilling any of those thoughts out. Still, your mind attempts to push through it. Personal feelings couldn't cloud your judgement, if that meant it could bring harm to your child.

"Even if they-"

Hearing the engine rumbling as Papyrus parks close by the sidewalk is a blessing in and of itself; the aforementioned date night with his brother can't get here any sooner. You need to sort your thoughts out once and for all. Almost half a year of waltzing with the seemingly never-ending issue of Frisk's journey and the bonds they made through it was far too much. If you were slowly making friends with those same people too, then you needed to stop this at once. No matter how much you wanted to avoid said confrontation, that had to be done -- for both CPS and reasons beyond.

"You're right." You huff, bring a hand to your forehead, and go lower to massage the brim of your nose. Not a moment after, you fix your glasses, look back to their side, and form a smile. "Thank you, dear."

• • •

You close your eyes just before the monster presses a damp cotton ball to your wound.

Isopropyl makes it sting immediately, yet you're too busy with your thoughts to care about it that much.

"You okay?" Sans asks, meeting your eyes when you open them. "You've been quiet since we got 'ere."

"I'm okay, but..." You think back to how you greeted him with a wave, right as you did with his brother. While the monster before you didn't seem to mind it, you can't avoid the thought of how you used to be with Jerry. It was easier to be more affectionate back then, and it was easier still greeting him with a kiss -- be it a simple one on the cheek or a quick one on the lips. Now, you can't so much as imagine the prospect of doing that with your new partner without overthinking or feeling stressed about it. "I was wondering if we... if we should maybe keep our relationship private -- f- for now?"

He finishes wrapping the bandages and fixes them tight before replying with, "That's fine with me. Did you watch the video?"

"No, I'm..." You grow short of breath at the thought of how many people have likely seen it by now -- how many times it's been shared, and how many more discussions and heated arguments have revolved around it. "I'm too scared to."

You can't bring yourself to look at him any longer, so his expression falls unknown as he suggests watching it together, a question you answer to with a quiet and mumbled 'sure'.

Sans proceeds with a nod and stores all the items used back into the first aid kit before taking out his phone, settling down in bed, and holding your hand with his free one. "Really sure?" he asks, squeezing it once. You reply with an even quieter 'yes' and watch in silence as he clicks on the link sent by what you assume is several people, based on how Undyne, Brenda, and even the man from the train station -- now his friend and your co-worker -- have messaged him the same information, all three left unread. The one he chooses is farther back and dated with yesterday, this one sent by Jerry.

It plays in an instant and the first thing to appear is Asgore's garden, while murmurs are what compose the audio as the one filming shows himself around a field of trampled flowers, these now a mess of broken pots, thrashed earth, and missing rocks. A few others make him company and engage in small talk, though it ends quickly when one of them shouts for everyone to 'get over here quick'. The group does as told, leading for the cameraman to rush along with them out of the garden and into the Judgement Hall. The audio grows quiet as he ventures further, steps and voices now discreet as he films a fuzzy image of two people sitting at one of the benches laid around, with the exception that one sits on top and has their arms wrapped firm and tight around the other. Multiple people urge the cameraman to approach the scene more, making him show you and Sans kissing, albeit of a blurry quality with how much he has to zoom in so as to not be caught. Even the noise is recorded with how silent everything else is, this one mostly composed of hitched breaths and clothing shuffling against each other as you hug him closer. Thankfully, no kissing noises are recorded, something you assume is due to him having a shapeable skull rather than lips, along with how slow and careful your actions are.

The video ends when the kiss does, and it leaves you in the same silence created right before clicking on it.

Regardless, Sans opens up the page it was posted on to reveal more information about the creator.

'Am I the only one who sees something wrong with this stuff? This is the future that awaits us, if we continue to act as if we can live peacefully with these people. Opposing these changes is necessary, if we wish to keep our normalcy. Casual make outs with a being so far from human shouldn't be the norm of our world', reads the caption.

Below, some of the replies read from ones saying the poster isn't the only one who shares those thoughts, to ones who've taken the time to write an entire paragraph about the situation.

'🤢🤮'

'Absolutely not.'

'No, you're not. This is outright hideous.'

'Click here to see my 👄 HOT 🔥 noods 🍝: www.uhohspaghettios.xd'

'Wow, this is just like 1984.'

'Next thing you know, we'll be the ones living in the Underground.'

'I need eye bleach ASAP!!! 😱'

'Yeah, no. Hard pass on whatever the hell I just watched. Why did you even film this?'

'That skeleman is nothing but a closeted cradle-robber. Anyone who's met (Y/N) knows how naïve and childish they are, and them dating someone like that screams bad news. Forget that he's a monster, people! What's more important here's how he's got a liking for them despite that gap -- both mentally AND physically. He should be ashamed for bringing their reputation even further down with this video. At this point, I have trouble believing they'll ever recover from all this.'

'...Ok, but...... Am I the only one who finds this kinda.................. Hot? 👀💦'

'Of course, even a monster would try to have his way with someone like them. Look at how they're dressed!'

'To be fair, you have to have a very high IQ to understand how wrong this stuff is. The degeneracy infesting the Surface nowadays is extremely subtle, and without a solid knowledge of social sciences, most of the immorality will go over a typical person's head. There's also the skeleton's nihilistic outlook, which is deftly woven into his characterisation -- his personal philosophy draws heavily from George Orwell literature, for instance. People like us understand this stuff; we have the intellectual capacity to truly appreciate the depths of these social rejects, to realise that they're not just ridiculous -- they say something deep about LIFE and SOCIETY. As a consequence, people who see nothing wrong with this truly ARE idiots -- of course they wouldn't appreciate, for instance, the humour in the skeleton's existential catchphrase "Genocide is wrong", which itself is a cryptic reference to Er*n Yeag*r from Att*ck on Tit*n. I'm smirking right now, just imagining one of those addlepated simpletons scratching their heads in confusion as our fight against this backwards evolution unfolds itself on their phone screens. What fools... How I pity anyone who disagrees with you and tries to defend this behaviour. 😂'

At the bottom of it all, a neglected comment reads:

'Not only are you and your companions trespassing in an unsafe location, but your recording shows clear evidence you were damaging former King Asgore Dreemurr's property. You have also chosen to film these people without their knowledge despite them being in a private area, and uploaded the footage to a massive social media platform, as well. This is punishable by law, and I will not hesitate to stand for these people, if they decide to file a lawsuit against you.'

What stands out the most goes beyond the commenter's name, as his profile picture is what captures your attention first, regardless of how well-dressed he appears in the image and how small it is without clicking on it. Sans seems to share the same thought as you, as he clicks on the man's account without thinking twice. It takes some time to load, but when it does, your mouth gapes and you find yourself at a complete loss for words.

'Gerardo "Jerry" Gonzalez Gutierrez del Valle. Family practice lawyer since 20XX. Co-founder of the first Alcohol and Smoking Helpline for monsters. Former quarterback for Ebott U's Football League,' his bio reads.

You're overcome by what feels like an hour of silence before you can process what you've read. The age-old experience of reviewing material from your textbook at three thirty in the morning arrives when you try to read through his profile a second time, then a third. Even his pictures are difficult to process, these a variety of him posing with his co-workers at the newly-opened helpline building, screenshots of his progress with quitting alcohol and his strike of days and months sober, images of him in different suits, and -- last but not least -- a couple of Throwback Thursdays from his glory days, featuring both high school and college memories. It's hard to decide which feeling out of multiple is stronger than the rest, as jealousy combines with the slightest thing you expect out of this discovery: being reminded of the good ol' days. Guilt arrives next when growing aware of your current relationship with the one sitting next to you, even if it's only the thought of how happy you used to be with the man in those pictures before everything went haywire.

"You're... You're seeing this too, right?"

You hear him chuckle and see him agree with a nod, though you can't exactly fall back down to Earth again; were this a dream, you would accept it as such.

"Yeah." The monster looks you over once before adding, "And am I imagining it, or did I catch you smilin' at 'im just now?" He winks.

"So you're telling me you're really not surprised by this, at all?"

"...Touché."

You stand up and give your back to him, irked by his assumption despite him being nothing close to serious about it. "But, please don't think I still like him." Your hands turn into fists at the thought of going back with someone like him, no matter his current intentions. "I still haven't forgiven him, and I still..." Bile rises to your throat as your stomach churns wildly. "I still hate him." Then, you take a pause to gather strength. "And maybe that's a strong word, b- but... It's hard for me to forget that's the same man who once accused me for every little thing that wasn't 'normal' with Frisk, from them running away the first time, to them refusing to call him dad -- even when I never prevented them from visiting him, and e- even when he stopped visiting them first." Your chest shakes as you huff. "I... I still dislike him, and I really hate that I remembered good things about him just now."

Your mouth refuses to shut up and makes you continue on with, "So if I still can't forgive him, how can I make a decision for CPS with so many of you and in so short of a time? I still can't decide what to do, no... no matter how much I've learnt about everyone else." Your throat turns dry, and you find it difficult to swallow. "Hell, it was only yesterday I finally gave into one of my doubts. I thought it twice before asking if you wanted to kiss, but it'd been in my mind for a long while before that."

"You're sayin' the kiss was you decidin' to trust me?"

"Yes."

He scoots closer to your side and furrows his gaze.

"Even after that dream, and even though I started it?"

"Y... Yes." You do the same as him and smile. "I trust you, and... And I know the dream's likely just me overthinking this. One thing's spilling the truth when you're drunk, and one thing's getting... too caught up in your fears -- to the point where you have these warped dreams about someone else, no matter how much they mean to you."

His irises soften in their light, and a hint of culpability seems to fall on him. "Then I'm sorry for bringin' your ex into this." You sit back down with him and hold his hand again. "It wasn't right."

"It's okay."

"Doesn't look that way."

Before you know it, you're held by your lower back, pulled close, and brought down in bed.

He stays on top, gaze focused on yours rather than on your lips or anywhere else suggesting something more.

"Have you found that help yet? Counseling, I mean." His gaze remains the same despite having changed topics so abruptly. "How're ya doin', puddin'?"

"Bubbles and Brenda suggested two recently, but I... I still haven't gotten around to calling either one of them."

"Want me to make you company while you try that now? We've got time."

"...Kiss me first, please?"

He lowers more and presses his teeth to your neck.

"Gladly."

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[amwritingmeta]

15x19: A First Ending

This was a good episode! Oh, I know, I know - we didn’t get Cas back. But oh, boy, that should mean that Misha shot for five of eight days for 15x20 and that makes me want to rub my hands together with the hope of what that might mean. All the good things!

Oh, don’t hang your hopes on mine btw. I had very high hopes that we’d get Cas back, or very strongly established as coming back (as per 13x04) with a final scene of him waking up in the Empty or something like it, and that didn’t happen, but omg I’m so glad they didn’t.

When Jack started praying and reaching out to Cas my heart almost stopped. 

If Dean doesn’t instigate Cas’ return, then oh it would take away too much!

But then Jack’s moment didn’t lead to anything, and now, the more I think about it, there more it feels like a plant. A reminder of how he prayed to Cas the last time, and woke him. We shall see, eh?

And then we got Dean telling Chuck to bring Cas back, which was a pivotal plant as well. I’d been worried if they hadn’t mentioned Cas more than once, with Dean telling Jack and Sam that Cas sacrificed himself to save him, yeah? 

If there had been no more Cas for the entire episode then, narratively speaking, I would have started wondering what role Cas might actually play in 15x20.

But Cas was mentioned more than once. We even got to hear his voice and have that fake return to stir our... I almost wrote loins, but that’s not appropriate so let’s change it to stir our... martinis. 

Ah yes. We could all use a drink, I’m sure.

The dog as well! Dean was so happy and he carried the dog and petted the dog and put it in Cas’ spot in the backseat and was all, yes, emotional substitute! And then... poof. Because it’s not going to be that easy to replace Cas. *fingers crossed*

Here’s mostly why I’m hopeful for something quite different as the actual finale of the show, the proper wrapping up of these character journeys:

This first ending is for those who have followed the show explicitly to watch these two brothers. (yes there’s a word for them but let’s not)

It ends exactly how these viewers -- and quite possibly the writers who wrote it -- always saw the show ending. It gives an emotionally satisfying wrapping up of all the thematic threads of the show and gives the brothers their hard-won freedom, and keeps the brothers riding in Baby, together, indefinitely. 

And these viewers and fans will always be able to stop watching the show there and keep that as their perfect ending.

Except it’s not the ending-ending. Is it?

This episode neatly and gorgeously wrapped up the Michael/Lucifer/Chuck storyline. It wiped the slate completely clean. Especially with Michael killing Lucifer and Chuck killing Michael. These characters just completely annihilating  each other because they’ve all served their purpose.

And Chuck being drained of his powers and ending up ignored, never to be worshipped again, or even remembered, is such a fitting ending for him! And with Dean refusing to kill him, leaving him to his fate, I’d call that Dean integrating his Shadow.

No more fearing it. It’s powerless. Thanks to Jack (Dean’s inner child) who now holds all the power in the universe.

I’d say Dean Winchester has reached a point of internal balance.

And for all of these good things: Chuck powerless, Jack the New God, surely helping to fix what Cas broke by restoring Heaven (I’m assuming Heaven will be repopulated or that God’s grace will level it out) and Jack stepping into shoes that Cas once tried to fill and failed to, to the detriment to so many of his kin, is simply stunning.

I cried, properly, at Jack’s speech. It was beautiful.

But for all these good things and wrappings up of stuff, didn’t the ending feel kind of superficial? Like stuff was missing in those final five minutes or so? Like... I don’t know... Sam mentioning Eileen maybe? Because surely she was brought back along with everyone else, and one episode ago he was losing his mind over the loss of her.

And they didn’t even mention Cas. Jack mentioned Castiel as a good influence, but Cas was just bunched in with “everyone we’ve lost along the way”.

Meh.

Hey, it’s fine if all you care about is Dean and Sam and you think that they’re at their happiest when they get to drive along a road in Baby, listening to tunes and play-fighting and reminiscing about all those people that have come and gone, while they know they’ll always remain the same.

I mean, if we hadn’t gotten that montage at the end of this episode (a fucking MONTAGE ppl) I would’ve started thinking that maybe Misha was coming back to shoot flashbacks for 15x20, as we got to see the brothers remembering Cas (like with Mary), taking a walk down memory lane and driving around to well-known locales for a final hurrah.

But we got that fucking montage, ppl.

Leaving me to feel that they probably won’t also spend forty minutes rememberembering those same people. You know?

Also, dull. And Dabb is anything but dull. And Dabb loves pulling on stuff he’s hinted at in the first ep of the season. 

And I remember reacting to Sam being the one to escort the kid and her mother into the, what was it? The high school, right? For safety.

While Dean and Cas had that tense exchange by Baby, where Dean couldn’t not ask if Cas was okay and Cas saying, hopefully, that he was, but Dean remaining stone faced and distant. “Awkward” is what Belphegor called it.

Oh. Please let there be awkwardness in 15x20. I beg on bent knees. Beg, I say!

Anyway.

What is 15x20 going to be about if it isn’t about finally answering the question of what will make the brothers happy?

A balanced universe, of course! But freedom without love... sounds kind of lonely to me. 

So, have they answered the question of What do I want? yet? Is this what they want for themselves? More of the same? This season has hinted that it isn’t. It’s hinted very strongly that it isn’t.

So, I’m holding my breath that Dean’s final confrontation is to do with happiness and daring to want it for himself. Daring to admit to wanting it for himself. Daring to go after it... 

Cas does not belong in the Empty.

And hope that it’s telling how Jack didn’t even think to get Cas out of there and bring him home. God got Lucifer out of the Empty so Jack definitely has the power. 

And Dean didn’t ask him to get Cas out of there, not because he doesn’t still want Cas out, but because it would ruin the first ending for the people who want Cas to stay dead. Yeah? 

It’s kind of beautifully done, to my mind, as a nod and a thank you to the people who have supported one reading of the show. It’ll be difficult for them to go apeshit when Dabb and the writers can simply tell them they don’t have to watch further than 15x19 and be content that they’ve got an ending that lets them cling to the brothers as the begin all, end all.

And yes, I remain believing we will get Dean and Cas together-together before the end of the show. I have no clue how much of a together-together we’ll get, but for the show not to give us a clear understanding of how Dean loves Cas back is unthinkable at this point, and will stay unthinkable until the show tells me otherwise, because nothing but those two together makes even a lick of sense to me.

Dean’s feelings were in the subtext this episode because that’s where they always have been and hopefully fingers crossed because this ending wasn’t for us, it was for other sides of fandom, giving them room for denial, if they simply don’t want to see that what Dean wants is Cas back.

Our ending isn’t happening until next week.

Dean: It’s a helluva time to bail. There’s a lot of people counting on you. People with questions—they’re gonna need answers. Jack: The answers will be in each of them. Maybe not today, but someday.

For me this may be setting up for 15x20.

Dean could be said to be accepting the reality of Cas being gone this episode. He starts off not telling the whole truth about what happened with Cas (of course), he’s drinking himself stupid, he tries to demand of Chuck to bring Cas back, he finds that emotional crutch in the doggo and he moves into acceptance because what else can he do?

Especially if he’s still reeling and is struggling with his fear of happiness, with not feeling deserving, with it being easier to simply let it all go.

But.

Letting go of the need is healthy, allowing it to make way for the real want that is about choosing Cas, not because he feels lost without him, but because Cas completes him...

That would be something. 

(oh shush let’s get with the romance) (Jerry always brings it)

The brothers love each other, but throughout this narrative there’s been hints that they both long for more. So much more. It would be so weird if it didn’t all wrap up with more being wanted and chosen and offered and had.

So if the answers are to be “in each of them -- someday”, then maybe Dean just needs to reach a moment where he’s ready to admit to himself that he can’t stand the fact that Cas died not knowing that Dean loves him back.

I wonder if Sam will push for this admittance... I’d like to witness that conversation, that’s for sure.

And Eileen. I hope she’s back sooner rather than later next episode!!

What’s next episode going to be about if it’s not about the breaking of old patterns to make way for new ones...? Are we going to follow the boys around as they do laundry and cook and make a few tentative plans for their unknown future? They won’t be hunting much in 15x20, at least if Dabb is anything to go by. I guess there might be something brief as a final The Boys With Their Weapons Doing Their Thing, but... it won’t be a case episode. And it would’ve been strange if it was, you know?

So then. Hope. One more week breathing eating sleeping on hopes and wishes and we shall simply have to wait and see what we get.

I have every faith it will blow us away, but I’m also sitting pretty. Reining in those horses lest they run away with me. And whatever comes our way, I’m so grateful for this show!

[imreallyhereforkataang]

hello, i don’t know who to ask about this but i’m new to the fandom and saw that you really like kataang. what’s your interpretation of katara’s glance down after the kiss before the invasion? i’m not a fan of the surprise kiss trope but even with that said, i had thought she liked him back. it didn’t seem like she did at that point or through the rest of book 3, and then next thing we knew they were endgame in the finale. sorry for being a bother, i’m just a little confused (like katara i guess haha)

Hi, Anon! Welcome to the fandom! Hopefully it treats you nicely lol.

Ah yeah. I've seen this talked about a lot over the years. And, y'know, I get it. It can seem a little out-of-place at first since, as you noted, Katara shows signs of being romantically interested in Aang beforehand, and now that they've had their second kiss, she doesn't look too happy about it. As someone who ships them, I initially would have loved to see them happy in that moment, to take another minute to themselves just to share grins and maybe laugh a bit because they've taken that step, put their feelings out into the open, and they're both glad for it. To a shipper, or to someone who's rooting for our protagonist to express his feelings, this does feel like a celebratory moment. I'm taken out of the context of the scene for a second because the pretty music has shot in and I'm still surprised at Aang's move and I'm happy to see an actual, mutual (as Katara leans in) kiss between them.  

Then again, this situation is a lot realer for them than it is for me. I'm the viewer, I can hear The Cave of Two Lovers' theme, I can see this being painted in a positive light because we see these two come together for a brief moment, and the narrative is, in a sense, praising that. In-universe, though, it's a bit more complicated, and Katara looking sad really isn't so out-of-place.

Remember where they are and what they're doing, what they were saying moments before and what they're about to risk. For them, this is the quiet before the storm, their possibly final goodbye. Aang is about to fly off and face his destiny, confront what he's been training for over most of the year, "since the day we met" as Katara puts it, and determine the fate of the world based on whether he wins or loses. Whether he comes back or not. And he puts the reality of the situation out there. "What if...what if I don't come back?" It's the threat of that possibility that spurs him to kiss Katara. And she figures as much.

Despite the music suggesting otherwise, this isn't a happy scene (and perhaps that's why we don't get the full score until the finale, because this kiss is only foreshadowing what could be). It's tense, and bittersweet, and pretty tragic imo. Aang knows he could die. He says so. And then he kisses her. And I feel like Katara breaking out into a great big smile in that moment, even though she does have feelings for him, would just seem off. Idk, personally I'm not sure how you (impersonal) can celebrate finally kissing the person you like when you remember that what drove them to make their move just now is the very real possibility they might never see you again. That they're about to leave and face that risk, and there's nothing for you to do about it. Seems like an upsetting situation to be in. 

There's also the fact that I'm skeptical Katara didn't already know Aang had feelings for her. I'm not saying it was always on her mind or that she paid much attention to it, she may have been putting all that stuff on the back burner or pretending it wasn't there as much as it was (including her own feelings) to focus on more important things, but I think she at least knew it subconsciously. I mean, Aang's not very subtle sometimes lol, and they've shared plenty of moments. So when Aang kisses her and Katara jerks back and her eyes widen in surprise, it's not because she didn't expect Aang to have these feelings (at least imo), but because she was in the middle of talking and is taken aback that Aang broke the unspoken barrier between them. 

They're touchy feely throughout the show. Katara's kissed him on the cheek plenty of times, they've even kissed on the lips before now. They have sparks, and they've been dancing around them quite a lot, from the Book 3 premiere at the latest. But they haven't gone that extra step to put it out there too far, where there's no mistaking the meaning behind these gestures. I think, on Katara's end, she would have been okay with putting off making any official moves for a while, given the war and several other possible factors preventing her from feeling able to spend too much conscious thought and emotion on it, and so she's surprised that Aang's kissed her because they'd been keeping their more romantic intentions implicit up until then. She won't be realizing afterwards or celebrating in her head that "omg, the guy I('ve sorta been avoiding my feelings for but actually do) like likes me back," because she’s known this, but it’s been left unsaid and kept slightly quiet in Katara's musings. Now, it's out there in the open, they're past the safe zone, there's little room for ignoring the feelings anymore, and it sucks so much that they had to make their way there now. It's such tragic timing, a kiss that doesn't stem from a smiles and rainbows conversation where they sit down to talk about their feelings and where they want to go from there, but a kiss done out of desperation, out of the possibility that Aang doesn't come back. Through that lens, it's almost like they kissed "too early," especially for what happens next.

See, my impression is that Aang's kiss was meant for two possible scenarios -- Aang loses and thus doesn't come back, which means there's obviously no future for him and Katara. Alternatively, the day is won, the war is over, he comes back and the world is finally at peace; they can stop running, they can celebrate and breathe and talk about where they're going from here in an environment more appropriate for that. And since Katara kissed him back, it seems like she affirmed that there's something there for them, given he returns. But instead, something happens that I don't think they anticipated. Aang does come back, but he didn't win. So, in terms of Katara and Aang, they're now at a bit of an impasse, a situation that their kiss wasn't intended for, and it leads to this semi-awkward limbo because Aang's still alive but ideally that kiss between them wouldn't have happened yet. 

Everyone needs to regroup, start it all over again, keep grinding and come up with a new plan. There's no time to get sidetracked, now more than ever. And, to me, that's reflective of what happens to Katara after Aang kisses her and takes off from the sub.

Katara's reaction is to dwell on the kiss. She wants to, but Sokka reminds her that there's no time to. So Katara snaps herself out of it, and she moves on. And then they survive the Day of Black Sun, but the fight isn't over for them yet.

You asked about the DoBS kiss, so I'm not gonna waste your time hyper-analyzing Ember Island Players because there is a lot that's been offered and discussed about that episode. But if you were to simplify the reason for Katara's stance there, it's pretty much just holding up what was established in DoBS.

At the Invasion, while caught up in surprise because she had an expectation that they wouldn't broach the subject this way, if at all, for a while, Katara kissed Aang back, and she kissed him back because she wanted to. But since then, she's had more time to think, and she won't be so caught off guard next time. Aang expresses during EIP that he wants to try a relationship with Katara sooner rather than later, and that he'd thought she felt the same since she kissed him back (as well as the moments they shared before), but Katara is adamant now about this not being the right time. She fully intends to keep her head in the game, like Sokka reminded her at the Invasion. That's essentially what she thinks Aang needs to remember now, too (and yeah, like I said, there are other ideas that can be brought in that contribute to the articulation, but this is the primary point being conveyed here).

Whatever the reason, her response causes Aang to reevaluate his conclusion about where they stand. Even though the war isn't over, he thought that, because he survived and Katara accepted his kiss before, maybe they could try anyways. But Katara still feels stuck in limbo, and she makes that clear. It's also significant to note that Katara doesn't make Aang any promises about being together after the war, which imo was a good move on the writers' part (I have a wip about this but idk when that'll be done lol). Anyways, Aang backs off, following her lead and putting romance aside.

I do want to talk about the second half of Book 3 as a whole, though, not just EIP. I've seen people criticize this portion of the story in terms of Kataang, but I think that, besides the substance of these episodes, it's important to keep in mind that the last 10 episodes of the series (The Western Air Temple and on) originally aired 7.5 months after Day of Black Sun. Not only that, but these episodes all aired within the same week. It was a big, hyped-up event on Nickelodeon dubbed "Countdown to the Comet," and it took place over the course of 6 days. That sort of schedule for finishing a show is...unusual. But it was also intentional here. 

Even though the episodes don't have to be watched that way, the final 10 episodes are, in a way, all together the final big bang of the series. They're majorly dedicated to the most critical elements of the main story, including Zuko finally, after 2.5 seasons, joining the gaang and him finding his place in it. I'd say that The Western Air Temple to The Southern Raiders are most generally about that, about Zuko being accepted and making amends especially to the original three members of the gaang (who he's hurt much more than Toph). The viewer is gratified by watching Zuko do what we all hoped for him, forming relationships with Aang, Sokka, and Katara after all this time, merging our most important A and B plots. The other major things the last 10 episodes are for are the final battle, of course, because that's going to be our conclusion to this journey, and Aang's preparation for it.   

So yes, onscreen interactions between Aang and Katara are fewer, but by no means does that make the rest of Book 3 an undoing of what they have. All their setup has been established, we're good on that, and we're going to leave that relatively be for now while we delve into the action until we're ready to revisit. And besides, imo, they still have extremely critical moments in the last 10 episodes that I am deeply, deeply happy exist. They're more subtle and less explicitly romantic -- a lot of them take place when they're not even around each other, but they speak volumes to me about how Aang and Katara have influenced each other, and how important the other is to them.

These 10 episodes are like a refocus of our largest priorities, and Kataang coming together is put on hold (again, I think that benefits the main story) for the end. But even though we watch less scenes where they're together, with more scenes of Zuko joining and hanging out with each of them individually in place, there's hardly indication of Katara and Aang avoiding each other after their DoBS kiss, or even post-EIP. 

They're still friends first. What they're avoiding is not each other, but a new possibility for themselves, because right now they're choosing to ground their feet in what they have. Basically, around each other, they're pretending what unfolded between them never happened until, possibly, on Katara's say so, it's appropriate to resume that aspect of their relationship.

And after the war, probably into a few months of peace (based on the state of Sokka's leg), she decided it was. She felt ready, and they dove right in.

I hope that clears things up! And don't worry, you weren't a bother at all! I love talking about these two, but unfortunately I became really busy the past couple days (plus this response got deleted and I couldn't salvage it because I saved a copy of a cursed screenshot of Aang and ig it was scary enough to erase my clipboard history :3). Thanks for your patience lol!

[panicartist]

Stein at the movies Pt. 4 “Denouement” (drawfee character fanfic)

A brief and whimsical fanfic in 4 parts about Jacob’s character Stein from this drawfee video Part 1   Terry lifted Fritz up and held him against the wall, and then began what was truly the most passionate kiss Stein had ever witnessed. It wasn't hurried and overwhelming like the high-speed high-powered kiss Leigh had delivered earlier that night. It was a loving sort of kiss that took its time and took care not to cause injury or alarm. To Leigh, it was the ultimate insult. She stood up and left the theatre without saying a word to any of them. "Don't you know it's rude to stare," Terry finally confronted Stein after a long silence. His voice was like a warm sunbeam on a spring morning, despite his cold words. Stein, of course, said nothing. They looked meaningfully at Fritz. "Uhh, this is my colleague, Stein," Fritz introduced them. "Stein, meet Terry. Terry, Stein." "I guessed as much from what you've told me about them," Terry turned to Fritz and blushed, "but thanks for the formal introduction." Then he turned back to Stein. "What's up, cat got your tongue?" If only you knew, thought Stein. They reached into their pocket and pulled out the tongue, held it in front of Terry's face and shook it (like a Polaroid picture) for emphasis. Terry did not respond favourably to this stimulus. "Oh dear, that's not good," Fritz offered, "and I suppose I'm going to be the one to sort it out later." Sooner rather than later I hope, and I can't very well sew it back into my own mouth - I wouldn't be able to see what I was doing, Stein thought, and I just know I'd end up putting it on backwards or something. They had been caught out putting a shirt on backwards once, and that was bad enough, but the thought of having their whole tongue on backwards for hours, maybe days before noticing... The shame would be unbearable. The three of them ambled out of the theatre and down the road to Stein's surgical laboratory. When they finally got there, Terry lingered at the threshold. Fritz and Stein nearly left him behind before he shouted after them: "Guys, Fritz, uhh there's something I should tell you." Fritz came back to the entrance, "What is it? Are you squeamish?" "Err, well yes, but that's not exactly... Erm basically, I can't cross the threshold until you invite me in." "Why would you not be invited? One of us would have said something otherwise. Although I suppose only one of us can say anything right now. But that's not the point. Stein - it's okay if Terry comes too, isn't it?" Wish I could help you my guy, thought Stein, Fritz is utterly clueless. "They can't invite me in, they have no tongue." Terry said matter-of-factly - his patience was running out. "So do you invite me in or not?" "I think I've made that quite clear!" Fritz nearly shouted. "Just say the words. Just say 'Come in' - it doesn't have to be a whole thing." Terry was getting worked up too. "But you're the one making it a whole thing, I don't know why you're being such a dick about this." Terry swore and left. "What's his problem?" Fritz asked as he headed over to the surgery table where Stein was already lying patiently. "Oh well. This won't hurt a bit." Fritz made quick work with the needle and thread and Stein's tongue was secured back in their mouth in no time. "So, how was your date, Stein. Would you say she had you... speechless?" "At least she didn't leave me out in the cold like you did with yours." Stein retorted. "Then again, maybe it was a close escape." For both of us, they added in their head. "You're right. Can you believe he blew up at me like that? Young people are so unpredictable." "Fritz... I think that guy is  older than he looks. Like... a lot older."  "What do you mean?" If he still doesn't get it at this point, Stein thought, maybe it's best to leave it that way. "Let's just say," Stein thought for a moment, "How to put this delicately... if I'm a Mary Shelley fan, Terry's more into... Bram Stoker." "I don't see what your taste in literature has anything to do with- oh. He's a vampire. I kissed a vampire. I kissed a vampire and I liked it." His expression changed rapidly from dead bored to eyes sparkling like fireworks. "You and me both, Fritz. You and me both." FIN Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 [A.N. Thanks for reading. I might write a sequel story sometime, if I feel like it! It would be cool to write a story where Stein does some self-modification mid way through the story, rather than just at the start. Otherwise, I’ll do some other fanfic if I get inspired, and maybe some OC short stories]

[pomegranates-and-blood]

νοσταλγία (Chapter 15)

νοσταλγία  Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: This is a retelling/romantization of the Greek myth of Persephone’s abduction with Ivar as Hades and you as Persephone. The Reader character is a Byzantine woman, follower of the Greek Pantheon/Religion, and a devoted follower of Persephone. This takes place after 5A, but the universe of this is a little changed in relation with the series, of course. Thank you for giving it a chance, hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: The usual

A/N: I have (thankfully) been writing regularly and by all accounts I can allow myself to post an extra chapter or two here or there, so, considering this was supposed to be part of one chapter/interaction before Ivar’s departure towards Dublin, here ya go.

I’m kinda proud of this chapter lol, I like writing Ivar and the Priestess arguing, I find it very fun which may be a big reason why this is such a bore and drags on so much lol. I hope you like it, and I look forward to hearing from you! <3

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius​​​ @heavenly1927​​​ @toe-vind-ek-jou​​​ @xbellaxcarolinax​​​ @pieces-by-me​​​ @angelofthorr​​​

The door to his rooms makes a loud sound behind you, and though he stays silent you can feel his blue eyes on you as you pace in the room, trying to find some fucking words.

Finally, you find a seat on one of the lounges by one of the windows, the furthest one you can find to the bed you have avoided looking at since learning you are to be his wife.

“You’ll leave me alone here.” You mutter before you can keep the words from leaving your lips. You notice Ivar stop and turn to you, but you keep your gaze on the floor a few feet from you, gritting your teeth.

“What?”

“Your people, they hate me or…or fear me. I don’t want to be surrounded by people I cannot trust.”

The implication that you trust him is heavy on your tongue and on your heart, but he does not dwell on it, instead offering,

“Then find thralls or…or shieldmaidens you can count on.”

“Why don’t you pick them?”

“You insist on believing otherwise, but you are not my prisoner. I will not force strangers to be at your side.”

You find his eyes wondering if he truly hears himself speak, but choose not to confront him about how he has very much so insisted on forcing strangers to be at your side. Him as a husband, mainly.

Instead, you insist, “But now you’ll leave me alone here.”

“You’d rather come with me?”

You offer honestly, because what is there to lose with truths, “I’d rather be home, where it’s warm and something other than bloodthirst grows.”

“Miss it all you want, you won’t return there.”

You stand up, approaching one of the windows. Even if your back is turned to the King, you still feel his eyes on you.

“You won’t be the first man to try to chain me.”

“I am not like other men.” He replies with an unsettling calm about him, the promise of not only trying but succeeding in chaining you if he wishes it so.

Turning around, you insist, “My very blood makes me belong to them. Athens, and Sparta, Greece; it’ll summon me to return sooner or later.”

“Fate summoned you here,” He reminds you with cruel arrogance as he walks closer to you, “You belong here with me.”

But you shake your head, stubborn, “I am their Daughter!”

“You’ll be my wife!” His shouted command makes the blood in your veins grow cold, and you grit your teeth but stay silent, your eyes on his with prideful anger. “And I do not want to hear anymore about you returning there,” You start to smile, a mocking smile of the promise that you will not desist, but Ivar grabs at the back of your neck, forcing your eyes to face his and your arrogance to face his wrath, “You will not leave me.”

You grit your teeth and feel the fury bubbling under your skin. He towers over you, with but a move of his hand he could leave you with a knife deep in your heart, but you do not feel fear.

Putting your wrists together, you offer them to the King.

“Put the shackles on, then. Force me, Ivar the Boneless.”

With a snarl of his own, he takes his hand off the back of your neck and grabs your wrists, both of them fitting tightly in one of his rough hands. He brings you closer to him, fast breaths caressing your face as he regards you with a combination of fury and desperation.

“I want you to want me.”

I do want you. Your foolish heart whispers, but you only regard the King with hard, even if tear-filled, eyes.

“I want my home and my people, Ivar.”

“This could be your home; these could be your people!”

“I owe Attica and the G-…”

He rolls his eyes and a gesture of his head emphasizes the tiredness he feels at this repeated argument, “Would you let go of that fucking place already?”

“Did you let go of Kattegat? Have you let go of Queen Aslaug?” You retort without hesitation, “Why are you asking me to forgo my people, my vow?”

He presses his lips together, his nose furrows in a snarl, but he doesn’t lash out. He is clearly trying to control his anger, and the surprise it ignites in you makes your own fury uncoil from your chest.

After a few angry breaths, he points a finger at you, and replies, “Because it’s not the only vow you made. And you don’t want to return, not really.”

You blink, taken aback, and if pride hadn’t stopped you, you would have taken a step back, you would have retreated.

Shaking your head, you retort, “This place, this…this kingdom. All that blossoms here is death and war, this could never be my home.”

Ivar merely scoffs in response, looking between your eyes and the rest of your body in the red dress. He studies you with a knowing gaze that makes you uncomfortable, like he can ignore everything else and see your shame, your hunger underneath. Like he never stops seeing the shadow of who you are supposed to be, the shadow he saw across a battlefield when you killed that Viking.

Leaning even closer to you, he whispers, “You want death and war, we wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. Nothing could stop you if you truly wanted to leave.”

“I do want to leave.”

He doesn’t hesitate, he shakes his head with a downturn of his mouth, disbelieving and nonchalant.

“It’s not all you want. Pretend otherwise if you wish, Priestess, but you want to see those Saxons bleed as much as any of us.”

You lick your lips, tasting wrath and a hint of freedom, but shame keeps your lips sealed, until you can give him the answer you should,

“You kill for entertainment, Viking, don’t compare me to you.” You don’t believe your own words, they sound desperate and frail.

“You made a vow to kill Stithulf, you let him live because you wanted to win before you killed him, isn’t that right? If I said you were free to go tomorrow, would you let go of Stithulf? Would you return to your burnt kingdom or would you finish what you started, hm?” He insists, and at your silence, he laughs darkly. Leaning back, he boasts, “You have thought about it, haven’t you? What you would do were he to be in front of you, were you to win.

Gritting your teeth but biting your tongue, you return your eyes to the barren horizon outside the window. You feel the Viking’s piercing gaze on you, but you refuse to acknowledge him.

With a cold and delighted tone in his voice, the Viking continues as he leans closer again, words a breath in your ear,

“Pretend to long only for freedom all you like, but can you say if I were to put a sword in your hands you would still choose to care for the wounded?”

“I can do both,” You bite out, keeping your gaze firmly set ahead. Your head moves to the side, involuntarily giving him access to your neck. You feel hot breaths against your bare skin, and a trail of goosebumps chases after the touch. You find yourself once again hoping he assumes your quickened breath is born out of fear and not lust. “Wanting revenge does not mean I’m without compassion.”

“But revenge comes first, doesn’t it?” He insists, his hand trapping your wrist again and showing you the bloodstains on the sleeve of the old Byzantine dress, the same you wore the day you tasted blood for the first time. Ivar whispers your name, his next words awakening something in you as they reach your ear, “Not very different, you and I.”

You still shake your head, wrenching your hand out of his grasp, “I want to do what is best for my people, I want to be with them.”

“You want to make Stithulf bleed, like you wanted to make that warrior outside the walls bleed.” Ivar corrects, and even if you want to ask him why he is so bent on you accepting this darkness, accepting this shame, this chaos; you instead voice, stubborn,

“That Viking was trying to kill me.”

But he doesn’t let you get away, shaking his head and saying certainly, “You could have run after you injured him. Like when you held that knife in front of the Saxon, you had so many choices. And you chose to hurt.”

Your shame begs you to deny this, to say you never wanted to be anything more than the Anassa that your people needed, to say that even after all the fire and pain you only want to rest your head on fields of wildflowers. But your heart, your heart reminds you that the mantle of the pure and virtuous leader became so suffocating that you gave it to the man that sold you all to the Saxons, reminds you that there’s little you wouldn’t do, including delaying your return to Attica, to make Stithulf suffer.

Still, you shake your head and with hoarse voice argue,

“Priestesses a-…”

Ivar slams a hand on the wall in front of you, interrupting your words, “To Hel with that! What do you want? Your people are gone, you owe nothing to them,” His voice lowers, becomes rougher, hungrier, when he adds, “You are all alone here with me, and I want to hear you speak the truth.”

You close your eyes through a deep breath, trying to voice the responsibilities and wants, the truths and the lies, that bind you and tighten around your throat with every moment you even consider feeling happy in this place, at the side of its King.

Letting yourself fall, you sit on one of the soft chairs and hold on tight to the fur underneath you.

Your voice trembles, and you cannot open your eyes, but you offer anyways, “If I choose this path, if I…choose death, revenge; then w-what kind of leader am I? My people count on me, Ivar, they expect me to be…to be…”

“Someone you are not?” He supplies, and he already knows the answer.

You shrug your shoulders, “Maybe. They followed me, they believed in me. I have to be who they want me to.”

Ivar moves closer, taking a seat next to you with a barely-there grunt of pain.

“You are dead now, though.” He offers quietly.

You open your eyes with a startle, and find him already watching you with his hand by his mouth.

“What?”

Ivar shrugs, as if the answer is clear, “You are here, and they have no idea you survived me. To them, you are dead, in a realm their hopes can’t reach you,” He leans forward again, closer to you. You should want to move away, not closer. The King insists, quietly, intensely, “The Priestess is dead, who will you choose to be now?”

Instead of giving him an answer you don’t have, because that is a question you never asked yourself and no one thought about asking you, you look into his eyes and offer,

“I want Stithulf dead. I want to kill him myself so that when he reaches the Underworld the dead know who he is, and whom he wronged.”

And you realize, as you realized when you first promised to kill that Saxon, that the words are truer than you could have imagined. That the elders back in Eleusis were right, that when you voice things you make them true and dangerous.

You find that you do not mind making that a reality.

The King breathes a delighted laugh, and he looks at you like he’s starving for whatever he sees in you when he focuses his pale eyes. You find yourself having to school your features to keep your mouth from smiling back because even if it hurts, even if it claws at your insides with shame and promises of failure; admitting your darkness somehow makes you a little freer, like you have just let go of an old wreath of flowers.

“Your blood is that of the Greeks’, Priestess, but your heart is like ours.”

____

It unsettles you quite a bit how you don’t seem to need to talk to the Viking for you both to understand a silent agreement. You didn’t leave his room, he didn’t ask you to; and you settled quietly in one of the seats by the window while he walked somewhere behind you to take off the braces of his legs.

Like that night you spent in Dublin, in some house that smelled of old wood; like countless times before, the healer in you wonders how painful those contraptions actually are. A curious part of you wants to ask who designed them, how they came up with them; but you remember his reaction when you looked at him taking them off in Dublin, how he still reacts whenever you turn curious eyes to him when you hear his pain, how even now he chooses to be out of your sight when taking those braces off.

And so you choose to stay silent, not ask a thing.

You covered your legs with one of Ivar’s cloaks, and you tried forgetting the stupidity of trying to spend as much time as possible before he departs with the man that imprisoned you.

When he settles in a seat at your side, you ask some quiet questions about what is to happen in Dublin, what happened before when you were on opposite sides of the battlefield; and surprisingly enough he answers, asking instead some light questions about what happened when you returned to Attica, before you were made Anassa, and you answer, with truths when you should paint tales of lies.

After a few moments of strangely comfortable silence, your thoughts return to Ivar’s words from before, about your heart being like theirs.

Words of praise to a dead man still trailing from your lips, but your mother is shaking her head, her green eyes on the distant battlefield, “Your Mistress may have touched your soul, but Freyja lays claim to your heart.”

You take a sip of the honeyed drink to dissolve the knot in your throat, and after a second you chuckle, drawing the attention of the King to you. Before he can open his mouth, you answer the unasked question,

“Sieghild used to say the same thing you did earlier, that my heart was touched by Freyja. She used to boast about how no Greek man would handle a daughter of hers as a wife.”

“I’ve wondered about that,” When you open your mouth to retort he should very much know why you are no easy woman to have as a wife, he gestures with his hand, dismissing the words you haven’t yet said and explaining, “About how you aren’t married already.”

“Why do you assume I’m not?”

“No man that could call you his wife would let himself lose you.”

There’s a compliment underneath that, but you choose only to shrug.

“Well, you are right, I never married.”

“And why is that?”

“Aren’t you the one saying Lady Freyja has fated this to happen? That she deemed me to be yours?”

The moment of hesitation when he considers his answer is enough for you to realize it is not only you he tried convincing when he bellowed you were a gift from the Gods themselves.

Granted, you do not know what to do with that knowledge, but it gives you a strange sense of peace to know he is not as deluded as he seemed before.

When he doesn’t answer, you decide to drop the conversation, and lower your gaze to the drink in your hands.

“You are…” The King’s voice startles you, and you lift your gaze to find his eyes already on you, tracing over your features and studying your expression. He continues, “You are calm about this, about becoming my wife.”

“Do you want me to kick and scream?” You ask, eyes narrowed.

“I want you to be true.” He barks, face tense and his shoulders tightening.

“I am,” You offer truthfully, “For years I have known I would marry a man I did not love. The fact that that man is you is just…a trick of the Gods, to toy with us all.”

“Who were you going to marry?”

“The Commander of the Greek forces, I told you of him.” You reply with ease, even if the reminder of what you did and what could have been make a pang of pain go all the way to your heart.

“You didn’t tell me he was to be your husband.”

The unjustified anger, as if implied you ever lied to him, makes your blood boil. Holding back a roll of your eyes, you snap,

“Well, I didn’t think you would make me a prisoner and force me to marry you when I talked to you about him, so it didn’t seem important at the time,” You shake your head to yourself, and stand up, wiping clean hands on your thighs, “Excuse me.”

“I did not say you could walk away.”

You stop on your tracks, your lips curving into a cold smile as you close your eyes, “Of course, how stupid of me to forget I’m a prisoner.”

“You are not a prisoner, you are to be my wife.”

You turn to him, crossing your arms over your chest. He remains sitting, but you still feel small.

Regardless, you push, “That just puts a crown on my head, but I still have chains set on me, don’t I?”

Instead of arguing further, the King leans forward in his seat, and with eyes searching yours, he demands to know,

“Why him?”

“What?”

“Why was it you accepted marrying him? Surely he wasn’t the only one interested in you.”

“He was a good man,” You start, but you are transported back to the battle outside Dublin, with Sieghild’s eyes on the distant battle, though you now know they were on the youngest son of Ragnar, as she whispers, not good enough, and your Gods and mine know that, little one. Swallowing past the bitter taste of hindsight, you continue, “He would have made a good husband, but ultimately…the reason was convenience.”

Ivar doesn’t ask what happened to him, why you still mourn him if it was a business deal, no. He asks, “What did he offer you?”

“I asked for his sword arm, his army. I wanted my Kingdom back in my hands and free from the Christians and their God,” You answer, sincerely. And with a small chuckle, remembering Sieghild’s words, you add, “No small bride-price.”

“What made him agree to it?”

The smile you offer is tremulous, hopelessness and regret all in one.

“Love.” You croak, your shame making your eyes fall from his.

His tongue runs over his lower lip as he considers you in silence, before finally seeming to agree with you judging by the subtle nod he gives before taking another gulp from his drink.

You watch silently as his eyes leave yours, traveling over the room and focusing on something past the windows. After an eternity, he turns to you,

“What is the moon to you, Priestess?”

“I’m sorry?”

He shrugs, “To us, she is a woman. A beautiful woman, alluring, perfect,” He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, turning instead towards the opening in the room and looking over the stars, the moon that crosses the skies. “But she is not a woman you can trust. She fools men into doing her bidding, promises them her favor, her love. And when she is done with them, she betrays them, leaves them.”

You frown, and swallow down the shame, instead offering a feeble excuse, “We are bound from birth to rules, to ideas, to…prisons, simply because of who we are. Women learn to play with hearts because we are not allowed to play with swords.”

He offers a slight smile, but it is insincere and it hurts at a part of you that is still hopeful, that is still trusting and soft and true.

But it seems he understands, because if anyone could it would be him, for he sighs and looks back at the skies.

“What is the moon to you?” He insists quietly.

You return to your seat and face the same window, looking over the same sky, awed and devastated at the knowledge that this foreign darkness is the same sky that stretches over your home.

“She is a woman. She is a woman free and…foolish. It is her chariot that moves the moon at night, as she roams the skies. Yet so long ago she made the mistake of loving a mortal man, a man Fate doesn’t allow her to be with, for they do not belong to the same world. Free to roam the skies but bound by something as foolish as love, that is our moon.”

You remember your mother telling you this story, the mother of gentle caresses and relentless hope. The mother of sad eyes, the mother of charred flesh and lost wars.

You remember her telling you that between love and duty one must always win. Between legacy, between nature, and love, hope; one will always prevail, for it seems the Gods entertain themselves by making us choose.

The King remains silent, and you wonder for the first time what your mother chose. Because you remember her loud laughs, her bright eyes, her happiness; just as you remember her defeat, her pain, her hopelessness.

Maybe she chose love? In your mind you see her hands fixing your father’s armor as she sports a soft smile, holding onto him and laughing as he lifts you up over his head, kissing his lips as he is to depart for yet another campaign.

Or did she choose duty? Because you can also remember the quiet prayers she would teach you, the secretly woven tales late at night, the carved figures and hidden statuettes of the Gods she gave you to hide in the temple.

Did she try choosing both? Is that why she lost?

You shake your head, choosing to ignore those questions that do nothing but confuse you, and instead take a sip of the still warm infusion.

After a few moments, Ivar starts,

“Why didn’t you lie? Why didn’t you ask that of me?”

This draws your attention, and your back straightens, your heart quickens and a knot of uncertainty and dread grows in your chest.

“Would you agree?” You ask, startled, “Why?”

He considers you in silence for a few moments, enough that the knot in your chest grows tighter and tighter. But eventually he just adjusts himself in his seat, and drinks from his goblet of mead before insisting,

“I asked you a question first.”

His eyes are always searching, you would dread the day you look into his pale gaze and not see the annoying curiosity, the infuriating interest in the meaning behind your words and your actions.

And in that gaze, past the seeking nature of it, you have always seen sincerity. Even if encased in the cruel mask of the King of Kattegat, even if viciously euphoric with the power he wields, even if brutish and demanding and infuriating; you have not seen lies.

It may be your foolish heart trying to promise you it is not so dreadful here, that there can be life born from this death, that there’s a way the cold and hard earth of this realm can gift you the same flower fields your home once did. But you choose to believe the Gods wouldn’t be as cruel as to dangle such hope over hungry lips.

So you offer him the truth, the truth that aches and trembles as it leaves your lips, “The Priestess is dead.”

____

Hey :D I hope you liked it! I would love to know what you think so far!!

Also, I have no fucking clue how the moon was percieved in Norse mythology, what Ivar says is based loosely on what the show portrays, I don’t remember the episode but it’s a conversation between Ivar and the Bishop. The Greek myth on the moon tho, is based on some stories of Selene and how she fell in love with this dude that now by some accounts sleeps forever and by others has been turned into a cricket after Zeus acted predictably like a dick.

For two weeks I’ll be uploading two chapters on Saturdays, so that’s today with chapters 14 and 15, and the 21st with chapters 16 and 17. Then we go back to one chapter per saturday, hope you don’t mind!

As always, thank you all for giving my work a chance and for your support! Love you! <3

[spneveryseason]

if seasons 13 and on core plots were to remain intact, but you'd have the opportunity to utilize good writing™, what would you add and what would you take away? more detailed the better PLEASE!!! ESPECIALLY FOR S15!

Anon I LOVE this! Let’s break this down season by season:

Season 13

Core plots: Jack and his powers, Jack vs Dean, Asmodeus, Mary & Lucifer in apocalypse world, AU hunters, Gabriel, Rowena, the final Lucifer confrontation, wayward sisters

Adding: more about Jack exploring his powers and Sam acting as his mentor through them. Sam examines his own powers as a result. Jack vs Dean is maintained throughout the season with Dean warming to him very slowly. It also forces him to confront his black and white thinking regarding the supernatural. What we had from Rowena was great actually but I would want more from it. Apocalypse world gets fleshed out some more, and we get to know the AU Hunters as individual characters outside the like 4 we get to know. With Gabriel, well...either bring him back right or remove him entirely bc his return and subsequent death was pretty underwhelming. So, I’d say: bring him back sooner in the season and keep him for a couple more seasons. And then with that final fight: everything is the same up until the end. We don’t see what Michael & Lucifer fighting actually looks like and Sam gets to deliver the killing blow.

Taking away: Remove Asmodeus entirely bc he’s pretty useless. I’d also take out the Mary (and later Jack) in a cage plot line bc it doesn’t go anywhere or do anything. Instead, they get to the AU hunters camp faster and bond with them all there. I’d remove Gabriel’s death entirely. Oh yeah and the whole wire work thing is gone entirely. The whole final half of the Lucifer fight is changed actually. And Lucifer is gone for the rest of the show, and never returns.

Season 14

Core plots: Michael!Dean, Leader!Sam, Powerless!Jack, the empty deal with cas, soulless!jack, AU!Kaia, Mary, Chuck, Nick.

Adding: First thing’s first, bring Chuck back sooner. We see him here and there across the season so that his return in 14x20 feels more organic. Otherwise keep that finale exactly how it is. Michael!Dean was good and handled well, and I would only add more commiserating with Sam via his Lucifer experience. More from Leader!Sam and the AU hunters that we now know pretty well. Leader!Sam also carries on into the next season. Cas’ Empty deal stays as is at this point. More with AU!Kaia and then eventually real Kaia. Nick was good and I wouldn’t change that. Now: Jack. I would’ve kept his powerlessness going for longer and used it to get a sense of how he is as a human AND what he’s like as a hunter. The soulnesses is ok to happen later and I would like to see Sam commiserate with him about it. Also more scenes with Mary getting to know her sons (Sam especially).

Taking away: The way they killed Michael. It was just kinda anticlimactic even though it ended with soulless jack. I would push that to later in the season or even have Chuck kill him in the final ep of the season (foreshadowing 15x19). Also: Mary. Like I get why they did it (having make Jack do something awful) but damn I hate that they fridged her like that. Mayyyybe I’d be more okay with it if it was a sacrifice she made willingly? Like if she jumped in front of someone as a choice she made rather than being killed just like that? Idk, it’s something to think about for sure.

Season 15

Core plots: Bullet wound, existential crisis, Dean & Cas fight, the conflict vs God

Adding: Bullet wound content! So much bullet wound content. It remains a plot element all the way up to the end. Sam is ready to die with Chuck and the Jack is able to save him last minute. Oh and also this is why they also decide to keep Chuck alive! Also the bullet wound would give Sam’s powers back to him and he just...has them now. And he’s not scared of them anymore and promises Jack that he won’t be hard on himself in a mirror to when the reverse happens in s13 :) I’d also include more of Sam’s reaction in the Dean & Cas fight. More Sam and Cas in general. Jack comes back sooner. The Dean and Jack tension is fully addressed and resolved one way or the other. I really loved the existential crises and I’d just put more of that honestly! Early s15 was very strong when it did that. With the main conflict, I’d have a more involved Chuck and a Michael who showed up sooner. The final fight is longer and more protracted but everyone survives it (Michael can still be killed tho). As for the finale...well. Maybe I’d show Cas to illustrate that he’s running Heaven with Jack. I’d keep Dean alive for longer (10 years plus maybe?) to show time had really passed. I’d make it clear Sam married Eileen. But otherwise...I don’t know if I would change more than that. Idk I feel like eps 18-20 would need a whole separate post for details + justifications but that’s the gist of it.

Taking away: The funny not funny episodes, bc at this point...no room for them. Episodes can have funny moments yes (and should have more ala the early seasons) but I think the space used for filler eps this season could’ve been out to use to do the things I described above. I’d also cut down the first three episodes to one, two if I pushed it. It didn’t need to be that long. I’d also remove the lines abt ghosts being in hell not getting into Heaven bc Kevin didn’t deserve that. He’d be in Heaven this whole time.

[caitlynlynch]

This is the third in a series about US Marshall Arliss Cutter, a former Army Ranger from Florida who’s now based in Anchorage, Alaska. Cutter and his partner Lola Teariki are sent to Juneau to assist with a protection detail on a trial of two mob brothers, a trial derailed almost immediately when the prosecuting attorney is murdered. The hunt for a witness the attorney was supposed to be meeting takes Cutter and a young freelance journalist into dangerous country, the abandoned mineshafts about Juneau, with a killer on the loose who will stop at nothing to silence the whistleblower.

Although this is the third book in the series, I felt like it gave me a pretty good handle on Cutter and his friends and family. He’s a tough, extremely competent character with some deep psychological flaws he somehow manages to keep from interfering with his work, though it seems evident from a stinger at the very end of the book that his personal and work life are going to collide sooner rather than later.

There’s a secondary case going on, of body parts of young women washing up from the ocean, that doesn’t seem to have any link to the case Cutter is working or indeed any link to the rest of the story, but that stinger does make it seem like it might tie in to something in the next book, so I’m not quite as annoyed by it as I might have been otherwise. I can appreciate an author playing the long game with Easter eggs that won’t come to fruition until much later, as long as it doesn’t overwhelm the major story, and since it was really only a few scenes I’m okay with it.

What did get to me a bit was that the villain was pretty much a caricature, and a stupid one at that. Very rich men don’t do their own dirty work, and while throughout the book that was the case, I couldn’t understand why the villain threw caution to the winds at the end. It seemed contrived in order to engineer a confrontation.

The bone rattle of the title is a Native artefact found during mining works, and although its potential great value on the black market motivates several shady characters to behave unethically, I don’t think it was really a great driver of or central to the plot, so… it was a bit of an odd choice as a title. I actually wanted to learn more about it, but it did appear lost by the end of the book so I guess that’s the end of it.

I enjoyed a lot of this; while Cutter is the stoic and silent type, there are several great characters around him - mostly women, and several women of colour - who were much more forthcoming and definitely held my interest. The villain was, however, a bit too one-dimensional for my taste. Overall a good read and I think I’d read the next in the series, as the stinger caught my interest. I’ll give it four stars.

Bone Rattle is available now. Disclaimer: I received a review copy of this title via NetGalley.

[letsbenditlikebennett]

Whatever It Takes || Ariana, Celeste, Lucas, Ulfric, & Winston

TIMING: Shortly after this (x) PARTIES: @lucastheunlucky @big-bad-ulf @danetobelieve @celestelavie @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: After receiving a troubling call from Ariana, Winston reaches out to Lucas and Celeste. The gang goes out to track Ariana and save the day.  CONTENT WARNINGS: Family death, some violence, and gun usage. 

The night had started off so joyously. Celeste had been going through all the photos she’d gotten before Ariana left for prom when she heard the familiar ping of her phone. The last thing she’d expected to see was an unread message from Winston, who she’d only heard of, telling her something had happened to Ariana. Her heart immediately sank into her stomach. It was them. It had to be them. She felt sick to her stomach, but they had to move. The hotel. That would be the best place to go. Ulfric could track her from there and they could get to her. She knew they wouldn’t kill Ariana, not without her there to watch, but she had no doubt they were making her time with them as painful as possible. Her knuckles paled as her fists clenched tighter. She grabbed her pistol and a couple of knives as she swallowed down the lump in her throat. This was not the time for tears.

Celeste raced out of the house, looking up to the roof to find Ulfric watching over the property. Ever the guard dog. Of course they took her when neither of them was with her. “We need to go,” she called up to him, her eyes pleading with him to hurry. He was beside her almost instantaneously and they moved for his truck. “Here’s the address,” she advised, showing him the location in Maps, “Her friend messaged me. They were on the phone and it sounded like something bad happened. It has to be them. I thought you could… well…” She pointed to her nose sheepishly  and continued, “Track her and we’ll go from there.”

“Winston and Lucas are meeting us there. I think it’s best I go in first. I have a,” Celeste paused, looking over to Ulfric as he drove, “I have a pistol on me. Obviously not for use on you, but, well, I’d rather keep you guys out of the fold as much as possible. This is my problem. If anyone is to,” she looked down to her hands and chose not to finish the thought.

The rapid pace of the footsteps that had become uncomfortably familiar had set Ulfric on edge, and he’d leapt off the top of the trailer to land beside Celeste, ready for action, before she’d finished her initial command. In fact, he was so caught up in the urgency of her tone and movements that he hadn’t actually processed her words until they were hurtling along the driveway. “Them? You mean this is finally happening?” He asked, meeting her eyes for a moment in the rear-view mirror. The fear he saw there was amplified beyond any he had seen when she’d spoken of confronting her parents before. Was it just because this was suddenly real, or…? His fingers tightened over the steering wheel as a chill crept over him and he waited for her to finish her explanation.

“They’ve got her.” Ulfric stated in monotone as Celeste confirmed his worst suspicions. The steadily boiling battle heat that was accustomed instantly subsided and was replaced with icy cold tendrils of dread, the likes of which he hadn’t felt since his mother had informed him his younger siblings hadn’t returned from their hunt. “We find out where she’s being held first, then we figure out our next move.” He nodded, partitioning his focus between the plan and the road, with no room to dwell on past failings. “We should have them outmanned, might help to not be completely outgunned too,” the werewolf shrugged off her reveal of the weapon, not wanting to admit that after everything they’d been through the past few weeks he didn’t believe she’d use it on him, at least not without provocation. Whether she had the backbone to use it on her own kind remained to be seen. “You should go first,” he agreed. “You’re the only one who stands a chance of getting them to talk, which could buy the rest of us more time to get Ariana out.”

The wheels of the old truck screeched to a stop in the parking lot outside the hotel. It was mostly empty, but he could hear the distant thumping of repetitive pop music reverberating from a building where clueless prom-goers partied on in their rooms. Ulfric grimaced as he stepped out of the vehicle, maybe if he’d been firmer about holding off on engaging in these trivial human things until the situation improved, Ariana would be safe. But it wasn’t trivial to her, he knew that, and he hadn’t had it in him to deny her one night of normalcy and fun she so desperately wanted. Spotting the two figures loitering just outside the entrance to the hotel, one he recognised from the pseudo-pack meeting as Lucas and a younger person who must have been Winston, he jogged up to them and skipped superfluous introductions “Where did you last see her? We need to move now; we can’t afford to let this trail grow cold.”

Lucas had told her to have a good time, to enjoy herself, and to relish every second of prom night because it only happened once. He stayed up all night like he had promised, just in case she needed a ride, or wanted to come crash at his place if the hotel proved to be too much. But the call from Winston hadn’t actually been what he wanted to hear, and Luke’s mind was fogged up with concern, and personal reactions when it involved hunters. His entire body was shaking slightly, the long wound up his forearm no longer wrapped but stitched up in metal staples and coated in glossy medicine to keep it clean. “No one saw anything-- I’m glad she called Winston.” Lucas roughly spoke, pulling at his collar and debated about transforming entirely so he could think easier without as much emotions. The waft of Ariana’s scent was so familiar, so comforting to Lucas, it painted a trail, distant, but not ruined by people being around. The late night would benefit a wolf’s nose. Luke moved on his own, shifting partially with a density of muscles along his shoulders, neck, and chest and the smooth planes of his face took on subtle wolfish features, allowing every breath to pick up the scent easier and took off running to follow it.

Honestly, Winston was still numb from the recent events including Bea. They to some extent couldn’t believe that she was actually dead, but it wasn’t like there was anything else that they were going to be able there. But Ariana’s call had sent an cold visceral fear deep into their very bones. They had struggled to breath as the line cut and immediately contacted Lucas. In a whirl of activity they found themselves here, outside of the hotel with Celeste (what a first meeting), Lucas (at least this wasn’t someone trying to kill him for once) and who they could only assume was Ulfric. Ariana barely stopped talking to them about him and it was strange to put a name to that face. He definitely looked capable of looking after himself and Winston was glad that they had his help. “She sounded really drunk, I think they must have drugged her or something, I don’t know if there’s any CCTV footage of her but if I can get access to it I might be able to help. Otherwise there are other ways of tracking her and if anyone has any better ideas y’know I’m listening.” Winston was trying to keep level, trying their hardest not to freak out but it was difficult when someone else that they cared about was in danger. “Whatever you need.”

These circumstances were not how Celeste had hoped to meet Ariana’s friends. She imagined a nice little graduation celebration once this was all over, but things took a more dangerous turn. It still felt like they couldn’t possibly move fast enough. Every moment her parents had Ariana was a moment too many. “Thank you both for coming,” she spoke solemnly. Winston had a good idea with the CCTV footage, but Celeste had the feeling Ulfric and Luke’s senses may work a little faster. If they could pick up a trail. She knew Ulfric had done it before and the full moon was only a week out. She looked between the two wolves and explained, “I think if Ulfric or Lucas is able to pick up her scent, that may be the fastest way to get to her.” It felt strange, relinquishing some control in the aspect of protecting her sister, but this was her fault to begin with. She should have discouraged the whole idea of prom knowing her parents were after them. Of course they would take advantage of a night where teenagers notoriously make poor choices. “Do we need to find something of hers to help with the tracking?” She looked to Ulfric, hoping to get a move on things sooner rather than later. Her feet could hardly stand still.

“Drugged?” Ulfric repeated Winston’s findings. “Wolfsbane? Or perhaps something pharmaceutical?” he theorized with Celeste, who would have a better understanding of her parents tactics. “We’ve already got tracking systems built in,” he agreed with her concerning the fastest way to follow Ariana’s trail, doing his best to conceal his disdain for Winston’s idea. It wasn’t bad, just overly complicated and inefficient, as humans often were. He then turned his attention to finding something of Ari’s to use as an anchor. Chances were higher she’d left something inside, but scouring the hotel was likely to draw unwanted attention. Instead he chose to scan the outdoors areas first, with a thorough search of the nearby courtyard turning up a phone with a shattered screen he recognised as hers. “This will do,” he called, running back to the group with the device held high to show them, just in time to see Lucas take off in a sprint. It seemed it fell to him to make sure the humans kept up, that is if they were both intent on seeing this through. This was Celeste’s battle by birthright, but the werewolf was unsure Winston really knew what they were getting themselves into. “Make no mistake, it only gets bloodier from here,” he addressed them, with that in mind. “Chances are no one who takes this further comes out unscathed. Are you with us?”

Lucas paused at the words from Ulfric, not turning back to share a look with the others, but in allowing it to seep through the fog of his mind and clear it up. He was born with this profound connection to what being a werewolf was, but his emotions were split on how to handle it. Realizing Winston could potentially see two, maybe three werewolves slaughter some hunters was terrifying to Luke, more so than the act, if they lost control Winston could be another target. Luke's emotions over what could happen felt like the phases of the moon and settled on the seriousness of the matter with a difficult lump in his throat. Ariana-- she didn’t deserve this, and something inside of him ached that he hadn’t either. Lucas peered back, his eyes refracted in the low light, and his partial phased stance already gave him a monstrous visage as everything inside him seemed to dense in a frustrated golden core. Standing there he promised himself that he’d keep Winston and Ariana safe-- even if it was against Ulfric, himself, or themselves. “Winston can handle them self,” he met Winston’s gaze, knowing there was something more going on, but as with all things in their lives here, you were beaten up daily if you weren’t careful to remember to laugh. “Come--” He sprinted, Ulfric would pick it up, they had to go. The instinct to drop to all fours and power through a run burning him up, the thrum of a hunt twitched the smallest smile on his face.  

The disdain at the CCTV idea was clear to Winston. Unfortunately they had not been blessed with supernatural tracking abilities and tracking spells weren’t something they had done anything more then read about the rough theory of. Actually attempting them was something else entirely. Despite this, Winston bit back a snarky reply, Ulfric was apparently a drama queen. Which was fine. Winston wasn’t much better themselves but they didn’t need some giant man with a bright red mane of hair telling them that things were about to get bloody. “I know it doesn’t look like it but I can deal with whatever needs to be dealt with if it is going to help Ariana.” They weren’t going to let someone who didn’t know them dictate what they were capable of doing. “Please, lead the way, I’ll keep up, I’ve got your back and I’ve got a few goodies ready for them just in case.”

Growing up, drugging werewolves had never really been common practice with her parents. At least not that Celeste had seen. The use of drugs implied keeping a wolf alive which really wasn’t their style. Rather, it hadn’t been before she “ruined” the family name and ran off with a werewolf child. “I’ve never seen them use drugs, but it’s likely a combination of the two. It’s only been mentioned to me. The focus of what they taught me was more kill on the spot than capture.” It wasn’t a comforting thought. It only made her more ready to move and she was relieved Ulfric found something to track her with. It appeared Lucas was subtly transforming as well though he had great restraint. Celeste looked at him somewhat puzzled before shifting her focus to Winston. “If you’re sure, then let’s go,” she urged. She followed beside Winston behind Lucas and Ulfric. They were moving quickly, but every second felt painstakingly long. Her heart was thudding hard against her chest. This was it. She was finally facing them and finishing this once and for all. The goal at this point was to make sure Ariana came out no worse for wear.

Ulfric just nodded in acceptance of Winston’s insistence on joining, time spent arguing would equal more time Ari spent suffering under the effects of whatever foul trap the Aquillas set for her. He took her scent from the phone, and set off sprinting alongside Lucas, following it where it wafted through the air as he thought over what awaited them. Celeste’s comments had only added another layer of concern to their conundrum. If her parents were acting outside of their usual M.O. then that made them unpredictable. There was no telling how easily the switched could be flipped that would send them back into their familiar kill pattern. The trail led behind a strip of shuttered shops near the hotel and beyond, until the dingy carcass of an abandoned warehouse came into view. The scent was much stronger here, and saltier, a sign of sweat or tears that made his insides clench. “This is it,” he informed the group, ducking behind a tree for cover as he focused his hearing on the direction of the building. “There are voices coming from the lower level, Ariana and… your mother, judging by the pitch.” He couldn’t hear her father, but that likely just meant he was keeping watch somewhere. “Any of you picking up anything else?”

Winston wanted to protest at Lucas going on his own, but they weren’t really given the opportunity to do so as he darted off into the darkness. Looking around, Winston spotted an entrance on the second floor that only looked locked, which wasn’t a problem. “Follow me,” they whispered as they crept alongside the warehouse and quickly scarpered up the fire exit that led to the second floor. Pressing their hand to the lock, Winston was pleased to see that it was a pretty simple padlock and it didn’t take them very long to maneuver the tumblers into a position that caused the lock to click open. Stepping inside, they winced as the door creaked upon opening, but they were able to slowly make their way into the room. Deliberately not turning on a flashlight, Winston listened carefully for any noise that might indicate what to do next. “I think we should be able to get downstairs over there,” they nodded to a small staircase that descended into darkness. Their heart was racing, fear coursing through their veins but they had to stay focused. They didn’t have another option.  

While someone did need to scope out where her father was, Celeste knew him to be the more dangerous of her parents. Did it matter all that much considering the circumstances? Not entirely, but she had to relinquish some control of the situation if they were going to save Ariana. “Usually a glock and a couple of silver blades. At least, that’s what he always had on him when I was a kid.” And what he’d used on her a few years back. Her hand absentmindedly ran over the jagged scar down her left arm. Before she could give him any more insight, he looked more wolf than man and ran off. ------------------- Lucas was listening too, his nostrils flaring, and moving a little closer and also behind a tree. “I’ll look for him,” Lucas said quietly, “I know. Splitting up can be stupid, but we need to know where he is and I can flank him if he moves on you all. I’m quick, and I won’t miss his scent. Once I have what I think it is, I’ll know where he is. I’ll try not to engage alone, I’ll loop around and find you all, watch your back.” He looked at Celeste, “what does he like to use? The man harassing me always uses shotguns and silver blades. Does he have a favorite weapon? Something I can be prepared for?” The moment Lucas had that information he pulled off his shirt, tossing it and his phone, wallet, everything near this tree. “Just fucking howl--” he said to Ulfric, as if it was the simplest thing and maybe just the smallest of nudges that he had howled for the wolves weeks ago and had brought so many of them together. “I’ll be fast, don’t worry.” With each step away from the group, Lucas shifted. 

Ariana's scent wasn't over here, and if he went off to keep an eye on things, maybe the man would keep an eye on them and not on Lucas. He shifted and inhaled the air, opening his mouth into a pant until he picked up a scent. It might not be this hunter, but it was a good chance it was. He kept quiet, darting around the sides, and followed the faint trail until a fire escape staircase moved up to a second-story floor. Then he heard it, the lowest thump of a heartbeat, his ears twitched and looked up. There were a door and a window, but with this being a warehouse, it likely connected easily inside. Not a bad spot, one could see out and in with only a few steps. Lucas stayed hidden for a second, calming his breathing and the ache of wanting to let loose on a person hurting Ariana. Lucas knew he wasn't spotted based on the heartbeat, and so he slowly ascended the staircase. He could hear the others chatting about the cuffs, and in Lucas' mind, he could see the lineup and the flank. Good. He'd tackle this guy down from the second story floor to the first. No high ground for you. He crept up to the door and leaned against it. The footsteps moved towards the other side and stilled.

Lucas could hear the cruel words spoken by Celeste’ mother and a low growl almost rumbled out in concern. ‘She was being loud on purpose’, Lucas thought, and when he picked up on the steps walking away from the back door and leading towards the otherside he grew concerned Celeste didn’t know her father had a height advantage to the scene. Worried there was a gun trained on Ariana the other’s didn’t know the location of, Lucas made a rash decision, and pulled the heavy metal door open. Adrian turned in surprise with his glock out, and immediately shot at the door Lucas used as cover with a loud PING. Thankful the weapon wasn’t in the other direction, he darted in after. Fangs out and jaw wide, his shift had black and gray fur all over his body, muscles bulkier down his shoulders, back and arms, and he snarled, eyes golden as a shot ran out again; gleaming across his bicep. Lucas’ adrenaline let the pain delay, and he met his full weight against the hunter, pushing him back and biting into his shoulder. They grappled, Adrian strong as expected of a beast hunter, but Lucas used the fight to get him closer to the open balcony.

Lucas chomped into Adrian's shoulder as the two wrestled on the ground, sliding towards the railing with a hard thump against the wood. His paws pressed into his chest, making the air in the man's lungs break out in compression, but Adrian was a near equal match for strength. The Glock slid across the floor, but he pried Luke's jaw up with his palm and sliced down over his muzzle with his silver blade to get him off. Luke yelped, blood oozed between his teeth but didn't let go, locking his jaw and thrashed it. Adrian flipped them around, and the moment he was on top, Luke let go and grabbed his waist, and tossed them backward. The railing splintered, and the two landed with a crunch of bones and forced separation. Luke was seeing stars for a few seconds, the back of his head bleeding, but he rolled over, his hair on end, and watched Adrian stagger up and look around. -------------------

With Lucas off after her father, that left the rest of them to her mother and getting Ariana out of there, hopefully unscathed. Celeste looked to the direction Winston was pointing in and said, “Good work.” She followed and watched as they unlocked the padlock. Ariana hadn’t mentioned Winston had these abilities, but it made her feel better about them coming along. In a hushed voice, she instructed, “May need you to do something like that again, depending on how they restrained Ari. I’ll go in first, distract my mom long enough for you to get her unbinded. I can take care of my mom from there. You two, focus on getting Ariana as far away from here as possible, please. If Luke’s not back, I’ll find my father.” She looked to them both, to make sure this was okay, before quietly making her way downstairs. 

Black still threatened to pinch the edge of Ariana’s eyelids as Diana prodded her to find out where Celeste would be. While drugging her may have made it easy for them to drag her to this shithole, it left her still feeling mostly numb. The silver of cuffs around her wrists hardly even bothered her. “I don’t know why you insist on prolonging this, wolf,” Diana sneered, saying wolf as if it was supposed to be some sort of insult. Her brow furrowed above tired eyes and she mumbled, “Is that supposed to be an insult? If you’re so fucking superior, find her yourself.” She hardly registered the hand colliding with the side of her face. Her cheek was tingling, but she had the feeling she’d be feeling it more tomorrow. She glared at Diana when she picked up familiar scents. This would all be over soon. “I said, tell me where Celeste is,” Diana snarled, breath hot in her ear. 

“And I said, fuck you,” Ariana retorted tiredly, seeing Celeste sneaking down the stairs. Relief and guilt flooded over her in equal waves. She averted her eyes away from Celeste trying to avoid drawing attention toward her, but as quickly as the silver blade was pressed to her cheek it was gone again. Celeste’s presence was known and she chided, “Mother, I hadn’t realized you missed me so much.”

Ulfric’s brow raised in surprise as he observed Winston’s skill with the lock, it seemed they hadn’t been bluffing about having a few tricks at their disposal, and the werewolf couldn’t help but wonder for what purpose they’d acquired them for outside of this. After quietly following the duo of humans inside and listening to Celeste’s plan he was tempted to go back on his promises to let her have the first stab at her parents. Diana Aquilla was so close, confined in a cramped concrete box of a room. It would be so easy to rush in and allow the wolf to take over and let it paint the walls red with her blood. But in there in the simplicity of that idea lay the catch, boxed in like that if Ariana was still tied up and sluggish there’d be no way to make sure she was kept out of the way of the carnage. “I gave you my word, you get to go in first.” He agreed somberly, as frustrating as it was, she was right, the circumstances of this battle called for restraint.  He waited for her to carry on ahead for a moment before he turned to Winston and added, “It would be a last resort, but if I’m forced to turn in there to back her up, you should run.” Catching up to Celeste, he waited outside the room with his back against the wall listening for her to engage her mother in conversation before he risked a glance through the doors. “They’ve got her in solid silver cuffs.” He reported his reconnaissance to Winston in whisper, “You got a trick for those. Or I could just rip them open.” There would be a fair amount of pain involved in that approach for him, but that wouldn’t stop him from doing it.  

Winston looked at the handcuffs. They weren’t electronic. Which wasn’t a problem it just meant it would take a bit more energy. They weren’t sure if silver meant that it would interfere with the magic that they were planning to use. “Let me try and if I can’t do it rip them off, but I think I can manage.” Winston waited patiently for Celeste to go in first. “Also, if you’re going to have to do something that we’d rather leave as a last resort, then let me know and I’ll really try to expend all of my options. I know it doesn’t look like it but I have a few more tricks up my sleeve just in case things go really wrong.” Winston didn’t know what Ulfric was, but there was something about that man that unnerved them. There was a cold tension to him that was unnerving to say the very least. But they had come prepared with a few new goodies that they had been working on and they had frankly been dying to try them on someone deserving of it’s attention.

“Try it your way,” Ulfric directed Winston, though he still wasn’t sure exactly what that way was. He hadn’t had a good view of Winston’s hands when they’d managed to unlock their point of entry, but if they thought they had a discreet solution to free Ariana from a distance he wasn’t going to turn it down. The argument between Celeste and her mother was picking in intensity, it seemed Diana wasn’t content just to go for the kill with her daughter but needed to gloat and make it hurt first. Hunter egos, would there ever be anything more obnoxious and predictable? Still, the distraction bought them sometime for Winston to work and provided cover for Ulfric to accept their offer with a nod. “Deal. I’ll focus on getting Ari out and you can take up defence first if things go south.”

Seeing her mother again was chilling. Somehow age had made her harder and her features had more of an edge to them now. Celeste supposed fifteen years of holding on to such intense anger could do that to you. Diana looked her over with cold, scrutinizing eyes. The same ones she’d always given her whenever she missed a target or dared to show up to one of her dinner parties with a single hair out of place. Somehow, it brought her more satisfaction now. Knowing after all these years, she still had such a strong effect on her. Diana’s words were laced with malice as she spat, “I should have known you’d come running for your little pet.” Celeste rolled her eyes, trying to engage her mother a few moments longer. Give Winston a chance to free Ariana from those chains before things got too out of hand. She didn’t want Ariana to see any of this. She knew how to really get a rise out of her mother. “I think you confused the word pet and sister, Mother.” Her tone was haughty and she almost felt sixteen again, arguing with her mother at every turn. The look of disgust on her face was satisfying. Her mother practically snarled, “That filth is not your sister.” 

Though she was still lethargic, Ariana felt herself seething at Diana’s words. Who the fuck talked to their kids like that? The resemblance between Celeste and her mom was solely physical. She had been glaring in Diana’s direction, when it began to feel as if the metal on her wrist was beginning to shift. She tried to keep watching Celeste and Diana to avoid drawing attention to the cuffs.

Honestly Winston was really getting sick and tired of the shit that Hunters seemed to bring into the world. There were obviously good hunters. Orion was evidence of that. But the Hunters that Winston felt like they met regularly were usually pieces of shit that were intent on killing things just because they could. Which really was not the vibe that Winston was going for. As Celeste talked they crept along, pulling out a pair of spectacles that they had modified and enchanted and slipping in ear buds that they had also worked on. It would be the first time that they tried any of this stuff, that was if they had to. They were still hoping that they would be able to just get out without any violence, maybe that was naive. Winston wasn’t sure. Creeping behind the chair, they reached out for the cuffs and wrapped a finger around the silver lock. Extending their focus and energy, Winston shifted the tumblers in place and watched as everything slid in place and the cuffs fell away into their waiting hangs with a slight jingle. “Don’t say anything, we’re getting you out while Celeste distracts them,” Winston said as they slipped a hand over Ariana’s mouth so she couldn’t yelp, “Ulfric, get her out, I’ll make sure Celeste makes it too.” They reached into their jacket pocket, their hand tightening around the glass vial that they had designed for just this occasion. They really hoped this worked if they needed it to.

As happy as Ariana was to see Winston and Ulfric, part of her was still terrified something could go wrong. They were all here because of her and she wanted to be sure no one was hurt, but her head still felt foggy and her limbs heavy, even as the cuffs around her wrists loosened. “Thank you,” she whispered to Winston, not quite thrilled they wanted to stay and make sure Celeste got out okay. She didn’t want to leave without Celeste to begin with. They probably had worked out a plan though and she didn’t need to be the one throwing it off. She nodded and began to slide the cuffs off her wrist. Though she was careful in sliding the cuffs off, one of the chains still clinked loudly on the floor and she mentally cursed herself. Her breath caught in her throat as Diana looked over in their direction. Shit shit shit. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as the woman reacted quickly and had her gun pointed in Ariana’s direction. Each second seemed to be moving impossibly slow as she watched Diana, somewhat stuck in place, waiting to see what she did next. Her mind tried to get her body to move, but it wasn’t until she heard the gunshot booming in her ears that she finally ducked.

It felt like forever, crouched down waiting for the bullet to either collide into her or clink the wall behind her, but she heard the thud of a body falling to the ground. Not hers. Ariana frantically looked to see Ulfric in front of her, shielding her, and Winston at her side. They were both there, unharmed. It was when she looked back ahead that she saw Diana Aquilla, bleeding out on the dirty warehouse floor. After all these years, all the running, she thought it’d feel better to finally see the woman fall. Instead, she felt dread. Dread that Winston had to see that because of her. Anger that Celeste had to shoot her own mother to keep them both safe. Scared that Adrian would emerge at any moment, putting each and every single one of them in harm’s way. The breaths she tried to take felt shallow and she looked to Celeste, trying to gauge if she was okay. Her mother may have been a murderous bitch, but at the end of the day, it was still her mother. “Are you,” she started before she cut herself off. Of course Celeste wasn’t okay. Neither of them were until they all made it out of here.

Celeste knew there was only one way to end this all. Her parents were relentless. Fifteen years of searching and running hadn’t been enough to shake them off. To Adrian and Diana, her continued existence was a stain on the Aquilla legacy, one they carried with such pride. She knew until they were dead, she and Ariana would never be truly safe, but the reality of firing a gun on the woman who raised you felt so much more surreal in theory. She didn’t think it over. She saw the gun pointed at Ariana and her body seemed to act on its own accord. It felt like someone else was in the driver seat as her finger pulled the trigger with her pistol aimed at her mother’s chest, likely puncturing a lung with how quickly she fell. She always thought she’d feel something when this moment came. Victory. Relief. Maybe even sadness, but shock was prevalent. There was no time for it though. They had to move. Her father had undoubtedly heard the gunshot. She looked to Uflric, panic in her eyes, as she demanded, “Get her out of here. Winston, you too.” There was only so long Lucas could keep her father occupied.

Ulfric felt something in him loosen along with the cuffs. She was almost safe, almost free. “Let’s go,” he mouthed to Arian impatiently. The momentum of Celeste and Diana’s fighting was building at such a pace that it couldn't be sustained by mere words much longer, and he needed the young wolf out before verbal jabs turned to physical ones. He held out a hand to pull her up, intending to carry out if he had to, when he heard the clank of the chain. His mind went blank as he dove in front of her, bare hands coming into contact with the silver restraints sprawled out on the grimy floor but not registering that relatively dull burn as he closed his eyes he waited to feel the much more prominent burn of a bullet, but it never came. Instead he opened his eyes and Diana Aquilla was dead. Faen i helvete, she actually did it. He met Celeste’s eyes then and despite not quite being able to make out what she was saying over the ringing in his ears, he knew then for the first time with absolute certainty that they were united in their goal to keep Ariana. “Come on,” he seized the young wolf by the shoulder softly but urgently, “We’ve got to get moving, to get you home.”

Winston had panicked, forgotten everything at the sight of a gun. They weren’t sure that they could stop a bullet, but they should’ve at least tried. But honestly, what happened was almost worse. Winston didn’t know the details but they could never shoot their own mother and they could only hope that whatever had happened with Celeste and Ariana to drive Celeste to do this was now truly going to be over after tonight. No more running or hiding. At least, not from the Hunters. There would probably be running and hiding a plenty, that was just White Crest. “Come on,” Winston wanted to protest, they wanted to argue. But they needed to get out of this safe. For Ariana and everyone else that was depending on them. This wasn’t their fight. Ariana needed them. “If something happens, just call me and I’ll come back for you with backup or something.” 

The crashing sound immediately grabbed Celeste’s attention. She could feel the anxiety bubbling in the pit of her stomach. Even in the midst of falling from the second floor and fighting a werewolf, he had this intimidating air about him. She wouldn’t crumble before him. Not anymore. She looked to him and put herself between him and Ariana. He moved fast, even with the fall. With her in his sights, he seemed to care little about the other werewolf. It was funny, his grudge toward her overpowered his desire to kill the thing he supposedly hated most. “Father,” she stated, for once keeping her tone even. He was outnumbered now and held little power over her. Adrian looked at Diana, fallen on the floor, showing a hint of emotion on his face. It wasn’t something she was used to seeing from him. For a moment, she could almost hold on to a sense of pity. He’d been a terrible father from the get-go, but some small part of her couldn’t stand seeing him distraught. It wasn’t something she’d ever seen from him before. The slight show of sadness in feature quickly turned to rage. The years hadn’t been kind to him. He had more facial scars than she remembered and his beard looked unruly. It was a far cry from the trim and proper appearance her mother had insisted on for the family.

There was no time to hesitate as he lunged at her. The pistol fell from her hand and she was forced to grapple him as the blood from his shoulder dripped down onto her. Celeste struggled beneath him. She took a knee to his groin which briefly gave him pause and got him off her as she fumbled beneath him trying to grab one of the blades from her jacket. Knife secure in her hand, she was ready to be the one attacking him. She picked herself up from the floor, next move barely registering in her mind before she felt it. A sharp pain deep in her chest as the knife pierced her. Her knees buckled beneath her as she caught a glimpse of the knife he’d thrown into her chest. That wasn’t--

The initial crash of Lucas and Adrian falling from the second floor had caught Ariana by surprise. She wasn’t able to focus on her senses like she normally could and she’d been ready to follow Ulfric out. Everything happened so fast. She barely registered that they were fighting by the time the knife flew into her chest. “No,” she screamed, throat raw and voice pleading. Celeste fell to the floor and something surged in her. A combination of rage and desperation. Her heart thudded against her chest as her bones shifted under her skin. The ripped prom dress fell to the floor and she raced forward on all fours, the need for Adrian’s blood driving her forward. The wolf pounced and toppled Adrian back on to the ground. The silver blade struggled to make its way into her side as her jaws clamped down on his neck, his blood filling her mouth. The burn from the silver and small cut on her side hardly registered in her mind, neither did the hands on her shoulder trying to pull her back. He struggled beneath her, trying to pull her off before the blood loss took over. The wolf still tore at his limbs, unable to contain the rage that fueled it. Even as she heard his heartbeat fade, it didn’t feel like enough. She slowly backed away, only somewhat processing what she had done.

The wolf looked over to her right, whimpering at the pool of blood that was forming around Celeste. The ferocity faded as she walked over, trying to pick up on a heartbeat or the sound of her breathing. Ariana used her snout to gingerly press Celeste’s hand as if by some sort of miracle, that would wake her up. As if she couldn’t hear the absence of her heartbeat or see that her chest no longer rose and fell with each breath. No. The walls of the warehouse felt as if they were caving in on her. She needed to get out of here. A loud yet shaky howl broke through the room. She couldn’t stay here. She needed out. She had no idea where she was running, where she could run, to get away from all of this, but it was all she could do. Somehow the room felt impossibly small and it felt like she couldn’t breathe. So she ran.

The thud of the werewolf and hunter landing had been startlingly, but Ulfric had recovered quickly, tugging at Ari’s arm more insistently to lead her towards the entrance. He’d promised Celeste first go, he reminded himself as he watched her father regain his footing. She’d proved herself to have the courage and capability to take full advantage of that privilege moments ago with her mother, and if she could handle that there was no reason for him to believe she didn’t have this under control. Seeing the resolve on her face as she retrieved the knife she’d spent so many hours practicing with in the woods around the trailer only further assured him of that, and he pulled his gaze from Celeste to Ariana with just enough time to think, ‘Just save the girl, she’s got this,’ before he heard the young wolf cry out and he realized this was another in a series of grave misjudgments he’d made about the elder Bennett.

Ulfric felt Ariana rip out of his grasp and he just let her go. Perhaps that couldn’t have been considered a choice, since it was unlikely he could’ve restrained her while he was still in human form, but he could’ve shifted to intercepted Adrian before her and he didn’t. This revenge was hers by right, and unless she looked like she was struggling, he wouldn’t take it from her. So instead he watched her, chest welling with regret. The first time he’d taken a hunter’s life it had been a proud moment. His family had been there afterwards to welcome him into what it truly meant to be a wolf with feasting and praise. He’d wanted it to be the same for her when the time came, but now he could only hope this might bring her some form of closure. Once Adrian lay dead, he moved in to calm Ari, making shushing noises as he went to run a hand through her fur, but he wasn’t surprised when she took off. Even in her wolven mind the events that occurred would be overwhelming to process. Sinking to his knees besides Celeste, he noted that her distinctive scent that’d had driven him half-mad for weeks was already fading. “Rest now, kriger, your fight is over.” He murmured to her, softly closing her eyes. “I will keep the promise I made you.” For you, he wanted to add, but there seemed little point in making that admission when she couldn’t truly hear and be shocked by it. “You should go,” he lifted his head slightly to face Winston and Lucas. “I can take care of her, and… the rest of this mess.” He informed them, not wanting to acknowledge the remains of the Aquillas as being anywhere near the same level of importance.  

Winston watched in shock as everything unfolded. Lucas and Adrian coming through the railing, Celeste taking the knife straight into her chest. Winston’s heart broke instantly. Not again. They’d come to stop this. They’d come to stop someone from dying again. They’d come to keep Ariana and the people she cared about safe. In that moment, in their despair, in their abject sense of failure, Winston didn’t even try to hold Ariana, not that they would’ve been strong enough to stop her wolf form from turning Adrian into a snack. “No, no, no,” they scrambled to Celeste’s side, pulling off their hoodie and compressing it to the wound. Why hadn’t healing magic been the first they mastered? Why bother with tech if it couldn’t help? It didn’t help now. They couldn’t speak, couldn’t breath, this couldn’t be happening. They watched Ariana bolt from the warehouse and knew that they had to make sure that she was okay. “I’m not leaving her.”

There was a dark shadow over his mind as the ribbons of blood traveled down his shoulders and the knife traveled fast and deadly. Watching Ariana have her revenge overwhelmed everyone, it was like a charge of lightning cracked through the place making him pause. He paused, and took four steps back as his body shifted back to human skins. Those seconds seemed forever, and he felt obligated to stop her-- to not let her have this on his mind forever (she's a kid!) He pulled at Ariana’s shoulders, knocking the knife away that tried to cut into her more, and yelled at her to stop, but he wasn’t trying as hard as he could against the smaller wolf. They were the enemy in this. The ones who wanted to hunt them. Luke never felt that way, in all his years, but watching the light leave the man’s eyes-- he felt envious. Winston’s worried tone, Ulfric’s calm, Celeste’s stillness, and Ariana bolting-- made Lucas’ mind haze and he sighed, closing his fists. “This never ends well, every-- fucking-- time.” Lucas walked to Winston, “come on. We’ll track her down.”

[jojosbizarreadventur]

Time’s Crusade: Chapter 4 (04)

also available on AO3 (under emih)

This chapter: Plane tickets, Polaroid photos, and yours & Jotaro's response to Noriaki's infertility.

warning (just in case): none, really

Summary: Yesterday in 2011, your husband Noriaki and close friend Jotaro were both murdered together just months before your university graduations. The day before yesterday, you discovered that your nerve-wracking IUI procedure was successful. Two months before that day, said close friend made a proposition to the both of you due to your husband’s recently-discovered infertility.

Today in 1988, you’re over 20 years into the past of an alternate universe, suddenly tasked with trailing after different versions of your late husband and close friend as they travel with unfamiliar faces to Egypt, determined to confront the man you now work for.

And in the following days, you discover how easy it was for your sentiments to change.

04

The Wife of an Important Man, Part 2

November 27, 1988

You… a Stand user.

At the very least, you manage to turn your head on its side.

The cold metal of the suit’s helmet hits against your cheek as your eyelids flickered, facing Dio’s bare feet. You were able to see due to the clear embedded shield over your face; apparently, it was durable enough not to crack when it came into contact with the stone floor. Gazing upward, your eyes almost cross as you focus on where the blood from your forehead started to dry on the shield.

Dio slowly turned to Enya, donning a matching expression of fascination. He feels Jonathan’s— his heartbeat getting faster. The sight of you surviving the Arrow shot and gaining a Stand… well, it made him intrigued. His plan— despite its unforeseen amendments— had worked as he predicted. Nevertheless, he kept his composure as he spoke to the old woman, ignorant of your current state.

“It appears as a suit of some sort on her,” Dio comments, glancing back at your downed metallic body. “I was not aware that a form of Stand exists.”

“It is exceptionally rare,” she elaborated, sauntering over to you. “I myself have never seen a user with one of that form. But based on her circumstance, it’s clear that she is not average, Lord Dio. That is why  she  was destined to meet a being as  divine  as you.”

That isn’t in the least surprising for him, Dio.

It seems that he had been rewarded for his own deeds himself. For nearly five years, it became clear to Dio that fate was in his favor. He’s had hundreds of men and women willing to serve him, either for a single night to fulfill temporary desires or indefinitely to aid him in various assignments. Any and every source of wealth that he managed to get his hands on is now his, and that flow of riches isn’t stopping any time soon. The small list of people that have piqued his interest enough gradually grows.

Since his awakening, Dio had spent the first three years recuperating alone. To pass the time, he would travel around the world and learn more about the new, modern society before his eyes. Compared to the era he once knew, it seemed that people were given much more liberty in doing what they pleased— something Dio took full advantage of. Of course, he’d come across the occasional person to unwind, which also taught him more about Jonathan’s body. There was that trip to Italy two years ago, where he encountered a young woman with prominent sideburns. Her looks were not up to par in his opinion, though his lower half apparently thought otherwise.

For Heaven’s sake, he could not refrain from staring at her, he couldn’t stop getting aroused at the sight of her face as he sat in the corner of the room, watching her dance with friends. And later that night, when she bounced on his cock and cried for his lordship, it occurred to Dio that her blonde hair and blue eyes must’ve somehow triggered a response of familiarity from Jonathan’s body. Needless to say, his scar hadn’t fully healed. Despite the hundred or so years, his upper and lower half were still two different entities, and it bothered him greatly.

He wouldn’t dare admit aloud that he hadn’t a fucking clue as to  why that response occurred. Jonathan’s head had long been rotten at the deep depths of the Atlantic Ocean. There shouldn’t be any discernible link to his body  left.

Dio’s next declared sub-goal, as a result, was to accelerate his healing.

Right now, he’s almost at that stage of full recuperation. The division between his head and Jonathan’s body has almost completely faded. He’ll be able to continue with his main objective with undivided attention afterward. But for now, it’s good to focus on what’s in front of him.

You.

It was ironic to him, really. According to Piper, you were not wed to the father— his friend, in fact— and yet here you were, carrying a zygote of future disappointment. But with what Dio has planned for you, you wouldn’t be burdened with that for long. You’ve linked yourself to a family that has no business in staying alive regardless of dimension. Sooner or later, you’d be regretting that procedure.

While lying face-down, you continued to take slow, deep breaths. The blood on the rest of your face started to reach a thin, matte consistency. Your throat and mouth throbbed in pain, and the metallic after-taste on your taste buds made your face scrunch up.

Again, you— an actual Stand user. It was quite surreal; never in a million years have you considered yourself having any potential for something of this level.

There’s information about the suit that starts to enter your thoughts.

The suit itself is a Stand, but to a non-Stand user, the suit is made of known materials on Earth. The body and helmet of the suit appears to be made out of nitinol— nickel titanium alloy. Likewise, the arms and legs are crystallized titanium. Inside the entirety of the Stand feels like ballistic mesh, which you can feel wrapped around your skin instead of your actual clothes. The exterior has a light coating containing some material— maybe carbon nanotubes— meant to reduce heat build-up. The sides of the helmet have small passages for air flow, but enough for the face shield to not fog up.

…your Stand’s ability is to tamper with most types of metal. There’s a locking mechanism on your helmet that can only be undone and removed with that ability.

You don’t have the capability of manipulating with larger objects such as vehicles or parts associated with such objects.

The ability can, however, be applied to smaller, intricately-designed or generally undetailed objects such as mechanical pencils, through-hole tech for printed circuit boards, or crowbars.

Everything else about the Stand can be learned from usage…

“Get up.”

The intrusive thoughts about the Stand stop.

Lord Dio watches you with hawk-like eyes.

With a swear, you shakily attempt to push yourself off the stone floor, still wearing your Stand. The metal on your palms clink against the ground as you raise your upper body, brows creasing at your effort.

Thankfully, the Stand didn’t add any extra weight on your limbs, but you lost a lot of strength due to… whatever Lord Dio did to your forehead, and the old woman shooting you with the peculiar-looking projectile.

Lord Dio’s fingers were still wrapped around its shaft, by the way. His forearm— the one you had scratched into bleeding earlier— reverted to its usually-smooth skin. There was absolutely no trace of you ever digging your fingernails in the alabaster-colored skin. It was strange, to say the least.

As you raised yourself up from the ground, you felt yourself tumbling backwards. You attempt to balance yourself despite your blurry vision and what feels to be nausea. This time, Lord Dio motions to help you, firmly grasping your shoulder as your senses settle down. Your eyes attempt to land its focus on the old woman, who looked to be nearly a foot shorter than you. Her eyes were filled with interest; it seemed as if there were a million answers she wanted out of you. But frankly, you couldn’t give a damn to give any right now.

You look over at the hand on your shoulder— Lord Dio hasn’t released his grip. That was the least of your worries.

“Enya Geil, was it?” you greeted in a drunken-like manner, flashing a genuine grin at her through the face shield. The feeling of light-headedness started to return.

When she nodded eagerly— still ignorant of your well-being— your attention abruptly turned to the towering man beside you. His golden eyes were locked with yours, curiosity glinting in them. You curtly nodded.

“It’s my pleasure to help, Lord Dio.”

He can’t wait.

——

Lord Dio cemented this into your mind after congratulating you: you are a prized possession of his. Maybe were you actually one of many, but you were part of that list and that was enough to be thankful for. You couldn’t be any more happy to oblige with anything he wanted out of you.

And yes, this included staying put in the largest guest room. Initially, you didn’t know that he himself ordered for you to be there. So when the masked and skull-faced Stand abruptly materialized beside you and Vanilla Ice’s face appeared out of its mouth to tell you, you weren’t happy in the slightest. In fact, you let out a lame attempt of a scream once he popped up. However, you have to admit your satisfaction due to finally knowing what his Stand looked like.

Both of you were standing directly in front of the double doors leading to said guest room.

“I don’t believe you,” you spat.

He grunted.

“If you don’t believe my words, which— by the way— are actually Lord Dio’s, then you may as well rest on this corridor rug for the night. These quarters will return to collecting dust as  someone  never cleans them properly…”

You ignore that last part. It also takes you a moment, but you realize that his Stand appears to be… consuming itself.

“Well, I’d rather do that then go wherever… this is,” you counter, gesturing to the double doors in front of you. “I’ve already experienced the illusions once, when I got shot with an Arrow in the middle of my ‘apartment’, okay? I think another Stand user created the room, so I don’t want you collaborating with them too and using my weaknesses to your advantage or something.”

Vanilla Ice blinked before eyeing you up and down with mild disgust. He doesn’t question the evident blood stains on your face and the shield. “Such as that gaudy armor of yours?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, the  clang  of metal hitting metal resonating throughout the corridor. “It’s my  Stand, apparently. I don’t even know how to take it off, but thanks.”

“For goodness’ sake, didn’t Piper tell you what a Stand  is? It’s a physical manifestation of your ‘life energy’— you summon and de-summon it yourself. If you need them gone, the Stand will know. You must trust it as it trusts you.”

Mild surprise was written all over your face after he spoke.

His standards for you have lowered even further.

“…that has to be the only helpful advice you’ve given me so far,” you admitted.

In all honesty, Lord Dio nor the old woman had given you any unknown information. Though, one shouldn’t be mistaken— Lord Dio is the Everest of man. It simply must’ve slipped his mind, though that might be a rare occurrence for him. Regardless, you aren’t upset at all. You could even view it as an opportunity to teach yourself more.

“Only to get the new nuisance of the mansion out of my hair,” he retorted condescendingly.

Of course, he still dislikes you. But you bother to believe his words this time.

——

It would’ve been nice to know that the doors to this guest room only lock from the outside. After the heavy door shuts by itself, you reach behind your back to lock the door and discover the lack of any door handles. You doubt that anyone would hear you banging on the doors, much less bother to assist you in getting out. Rolling your eyes, you instead indulge in the sight of the guest room.

Simply put— it’s bigger than your entire fucking apartment.

The interior and its motif seemed to match the rest of the mansion, which confirmed the lack of illusions here. There’s an enormous bed that you saunter over to with your backpack, which you carefully set on the satin bed sheets. And, after pushing it a bit, you unceremoniously fall back onto the bed with your arms splayed out.

You were about to rub your face with your hands until you remembered the suit you were wearing. The metal alloy on your fingers came into contact with the clear face shield, which was still lightly stained with your blood.

If you need them gone, the Stand will know.

You blink and stare up at the high ceiling.

Will  it— this suit— know?

…how  will it know?

It’s a physical manifestation of a person’s ‘life energy’ or ‘fighting spirit’.

What Piper and Vanilla Ice told you made you scoff. Fighting spirit? Life energy— sure, that made sense to you, but fighting spirit? The notion of you having any semblance to a spirit for fighting just seemed ridiculous. Most of the ‘fights’ you’ve ever gotten in were verbal; physically attacking someone has never been your thing. Was a Stand  supposed  to represent that? Was it the Stand’s—and, thus your— innate desire to get into a fight? Were  all  Stands like that?

We’re bound to get into a little trouble from time to time.

You deeply exhale through your nostrils. Lord Dio found you and your Stand useful, so that should be all that matters, right? It’s best that you respect his thoughts and opinions.

Anyway, this weird suit just needs to get off of you. It fit fine— perfect, actually— but traveling while wearing metal seemed very unpractical.

The layers of titanium and ballistic mesh start to dissolve off of your body almost instantly, and you feel yourself lightly sinking into the bed. Your clothing quickly returned to sight; it’s as if they were never actually taken off. Instead of the shell of the helmet, the back of your head and hair comes into contact with the satin bed sheets. Wriggling your sock-clad toes, you remember that you took off your boots in the fake apartment.

Maybe if you… you don’t know, get out, you could get them back from that other room. Though, judging by the sheer size of the mansion, you might get lost in one of the corridors. You reluctantly back away from that idea.

Subsequently, you turn your head to your open backpack. Peeking out of its zipper opening was your laptop, which makes you realize there’s definitely something you can do to pass the time.

——

Strangely enough, you seem to grasp onto your Stand’s ability pretty quickly.

You’re sitting at the carved wooden desk placed far across the bed, taking the time to do heavy maintenance on your laptop. In order to do this, only the metal arms of the suit appear on your body.

Earlier, you took the time to clean yourself in the room’s connecting bathroom and accidentally summoned only the arms and helmet of the suit while being fully submerged in the bath. It only occurred to you then that it was possible to do that, so you decided to take full advantage of it.

The battery cable stayed intact and connected, but the chances of reconnecting the camera and Bluetooth cables back to the bent motherboard were low. And… well, the motherboard was bent, so the chances of this laptop actually functioning properly were basically nonexistent. You used the Stand to take out the cracked case of the lower half of the laptop— screws and all— to find this sad excuse. Your face was nearly pressed to it as your hand hovered over every screw and tab to gingerly pull out everything necessary and fix the display.

To better see the motherboard, the open laptop is propped on the DVD-drive side on the desk. As you place it this way, you hear the creaking from the double doors as they open rather abruptly. Your head whips around to face the intruder.

The arms of your Stand instinctively vanish.

Fortunately, he didn’t have the chance to notice them as he tumbles into the guest room. He pulls at his orange robing to make sure it doesn’t get trapped between the doors.

You blink a few times, ensuring that it’s  really  him.

“…Piper?”

What the hell was he doing here?

Was he going to let you out?

“Oh, you know my name now,” he observed, flashing you a quick smile before ‘discreetly’ kicking the carved nightstand beside the bed. “Yes, that’s… very fine, yes.”

One of his hands held onto a stem glass half-filled with red wine. Your eyes dart down to it.

…yeah, he’s probably not letting you out.

Still gazing at him, you reluctantly give him a small smile, which quickly disappears once he starts to tread over to you.

“Okay,  no— you shouldn’t even  be  here,” you warn, whipping your head back to your laptop on the desk and back to his approaching form. “I…  come on, you’re not even supposed to see this yet.  No one is  for over 20 years.”

Piper stood directly beside the desk. He pointed to the logo on the upper case.

“Interesting, Apple changed their logo? What happened to the rainbow apple?”

As you tightly grip the upper case and display, you glare at him. “Goddamnit, this is from 2011—  stop looking. I’m trying to fix the display with my— yeah, I’m… trying to fix this  shit…”

“What an atrocious laptop.”

  …what?

You narrowed your eyes up at him for a second before your features softened.

“Oh, that’s right,” you remembered with a soft tone, “Laptops were already being built this decade, so… uh, are you familiar with the Kyotronic 85? That’s… the only one I know of that was built during this decade.”

He hummed in agreement. “Mhm, the Tandy Model 100, yes. A few years ago, I broke mine after I tried and failed to put those dental rubber bands under the keys to make typing quieter.”

You awkwardly nod and purse your lips.

Yes, this was the decade that ‘portable computers’ would start popping up— you remember the lengthy lectures and the times you helped… him… study for tests. But having knowledge of models that haven’t even been conceived yet, however, is something you find to be a bit dangerous. For once, you regret studying all of this.

Anyway, should you keep working in front of Piper? Is it even worth it?

You drum your fingers on the wooden desk, keeping your gaze down on the open laptop.

This starts to occupy your thoughts for a few minutes, and it reaches a point where you don’t even realize that he already left your side during that time.

Taking a deep breath, your eyes land on the Bluetooth cable on the motherboard. Since it’s 1988, and Bluetooth doesn’t become patented until the middle of  next year, the cable’s existence is entirely pointless. Maybe you should just ignore that.

Or maybe you  shouldn’t  ignore that, and  should  remember that you just showed an invention from 2011 to a man from 1988.

Who knew what would happen if people besides Piper found out about this? Actually, what if he already learned, and decided to out the information to the wrong minds?

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“I broke a time-travel rule,” you grumbled to yourself.

“Indeed you have,” he confirms aloud. You immediately turn your head to find him distracted by the provided luxury-branded toiletries on the nightstand. Its ingredients seem to preoccupy his attention instead of… you don’t know, inducing him to  leave.

So much for repairing your laptop in much-needed silence—  away from him.

“You can name your Stand, you know,” Piper suggested, twirling around and gesturing his glass to you. The wine in his glass sloshed around.

You rapidly blink at him.

“You  know  about it?”

Okay, you didn’t even bring it out in front of him while he was here, so how…

“I may or may not have been eavesdropping between the floor and the rug in the hallway, while you were bickering with Vanilla. To call you the ‘new nuisance of the mansion’… goodness.”

Whatever that meant, you didn’t comment on it. Though, you did imagine Piper lifting the rug and casually sipping his wine from the innards of the stone floor, ogling at you and Vanilla Ice like a television drama.

You turn back around to focus on your laptop, which still desperately needed to be operated on.

“Well, I… can’t think of a name right now,” you admitted. “Honestly, naming my Stand is the last thing I’m worrying about right now.”

“Understandable,” he replied, shrugging.

“Does my Stand even need a name, anyway?” you ask, slowly turning around to face him again. “It’s literally just a suit.”

At your words, Piper slightly opened and closed his mouth in a fish-like manner before sighing and rubbing his temples.

“It’s expected for Stand users to name their Stands the moment they become aware of it. Unlike you, I got my Stand at birth, which was around the same time my father was listening to a cover of ‘Take Five’ that pianist Sadao Kujo did with his jazz orchestra when he started becoming hot shit. So when I found his old LP  and  was old enough to fully comprehend my Stand, I named mine Take Five after that wonderful—”

“—no offense,” you interject calmly, “But… can you get to the point?”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes. You  know  you have a Stand, so name it after something you’re fond of like music or… or movies or whatnot. But don’t get maniacal about it, or you’ll have a Stand named  I Killed My Lesbian Wife, Hung Her on a Meathook, and Now I Have a Three Picture Deal at Disney. By the way, that’s by Ben Affleck, and your universe is the only one where it’s a smash hit and furthered his directing career only.”

Lightly snorting, you retort, “What, is he like an actor or something elsewhere?”

“Actually, yes.”

You blinked.

  Hm.

“But my Stand  is  a suit,” you say, diverting the conversation back. “I don’t think it would care if it had a name or not.”

“But  other  Stand users need to know what to refer yours by,” Piper countered. “You know, Stand users like me— I  brought you to this dimension, for heaven’s sake. We can’t just call you random nicknames like… uh, ‘Iron Lady’. And, well, that name’s technically already taken by British Prime Minister Thatcher, so we can’t use that anyway.”

You lean back in your chair and swear.

Piper  did, in fact, bring you here. How could you forget?

To be fair, within a day, your life has literally done a full 180°. You’ve gone from a happily married, prospective university graduate to a moody widow with some magic metal suit. It’s done enough to distract you and make you temporarily forget  how  it all happened.

There’s a part of you that’s still convinced that this is a dream.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening,” you complained, burying your face in your hands. “I mean… am I  really  going to believe everything you said earlier? You know, about how I’m in  1988  and in a different universe?”

Piper rapidly blinks at you. “Did you not believe it before? I was given the impression that you did.”

You reply in a bored tone, “I grew up reading and watching weird shit. I even  married a guy who does… did the same. I believed it at first out of fear, because I didn’t know what you’d do to me if I didn’t. But now… I mean, I just want to know  why  I’m here in the first place. Whatever you’re doing to me right now is probably just some distraction or ruse.”

“And you…  acquiring  a Stand after getting shot… isn’t?” he asked with an amused tone. “You pledged your loyalty to Lord Dio, right?”

You don’t hesitate to respond.

“Oh— yes, of course.”

For a brief moment, Piper doesn’t speak right away as he appears to be taken aback at your response. He glances at your forehead before sipping his wine and nodding.

“Alright, then, alright. You mustn’t doubt yourself. And you’re here for a reason— we  all  are, you know. Nothing here that Lord Dio presents to us is deceitful—  he  has his reasons for letting us serve him.”

That seemed quite reasonable.

Again, you wouldn’t dare question Lord Dio— you’ll just have to trust him on whatever he wishes to acquire from you. You weren’t given any specifics yet, but you’ll happily wait for them.

After speaking, Piper sipped his wine again… and again, and again.

This definitely wasn’t his first glass today. Hell, maybe not his second or third either.

“You should probably know that the potential for having a Stand has stuck with you for a very long time.”

You raise a brow. “What do you mean by that?”

He hiccuped and cleared his throat. “Well, you obviously weren’t born with one, but fate intended for you to be able to acquire one at some point in your life. If not from being shot with the Arrow, then perhaps from work that you do constantly and consistently in order to strive for perfection. You  do  wear a metallic suit— you don’t happen to be in any technical fields, by any chance?”

“Guilty,” you responded sheepishly. “Engineering.”

Piper snapped and pointed to the open laptop on the desk. “Ah—  see. You’re even fixing that piece of junk without any instructions.”

You start to wonder if he has any sort of decency, but you realize that you already know the answer to that. He gladly shoved you twice, talked shit about cutting-edge technology in 1980’s terms (literally— you accidentally pricked yourself from grabbing a tab earlier), and is currently drinking alcohol in the early hours of the morning without much care. What a man, he is.

“Thanks,” you sarcastically appreciated.

Suddenly, he started to reach inside the inner layers of his robing. After a little fishing inside, his hand grabs onto a familiar flat device. Your eyes widen.

“Oh, and here’s your… phone,” he says, carefully placing it down on the satin bed sheets. “I don’t like it— too small, too bright, weird screen. I hope the phones in this dimension don’t have a build as ugly as that once 2011 comes around.”

You roll your eyes as you stand up and walk over to grab the familiar device. “As if 1988  brick  phones look any better. Anyway, did you go through my phone, tamper with it, or anything?”

He snorted. “Do I look like the type of person to know how to do that? I’m from 1988. I’ve been hopping dimensions since I was in high school. Technology is not my forte.”

Entering the passcode, you search through the phone to ensure if he’s telling the truth. It takes about a minute or two to check, but none of the contents on your phone have been changed. By default, the phone continues to record the date and time in Japan Standard Time— technically, the  wrong  time zone— as it doesn’t require any sort of Internet or cellular connection to do so. Likewise, you don’t have any cellular service for obvious reasons.

Occasionally, you have to shoo Piper away as he tries to creep over your shoulder in order to see your phone screen.

You slide your phone into your pocket afterward, crossing your arms over your chest as you face him. You’re about to say something to him, but he interrupts.

“Anyway, I’m going to leave to get more wine— I met a sommelier from the capital of the Sasanian Empire back in the 7th dimension,” he announces, gesturing to his now-empty glass. You donned a deadpan expression, and you don’t question… whatever he’s saying.

He then uses the glass to point at your backpack, which is still sitting on the bed. “Also, I’d advise that you don’t lose your wedding ring here. It’ll be a pain to look for it later.”

As he strolls past you and over to the space between the stone wall and the embroidered curtains covering the tall windows, you turn away to glance at the piece of jewelry with wide eyes. While pulling out your laptop from your backpack, the ring and other small possessions of yours must’ve been pulled out as well. You lean over the bed to grab onto it. There’s a thin scratch on the underside of the ring, making you swear aloud.

During your research work, you normally took the ring off as a precautionary measure to avoid the small (but barely any) risk of it conducting electricity. On any other occasion outside of work, you always preferred wearing it to avoid any awkward or uncomfortable situations with anyone else.

Now that you think about it, it doesn’t seem like a bad idea to wear it again. But after you fix that pesky laptop of yours…

——

The dining  hall  became the only other room you could visit, and only during conventional meal times.

For most of the day you were locked inside the guest bedroom, occasionally getting visits from the butler Telence, who allowed you to call him by his first name. At the very least, you were still provided with basic necessities such as toiletries, first aid, and social interaction— something done sparingly all day due to the questionable personalities of the ones you’ve met.

Telence was friendly, though he liked to pry into your personal life and make comparisons to himself an uncomfortable amount (he visited the most; he was required to, anyway). Like Piper, he also happened to be American. Vanilla Ice always seemed like he wanted to off either himself or you every time you breathed in his direction (he never visited, but made sure to sit as far away from you as possible during meal times). Piper was just the personification of an acid trip (he didn’t visit anymore after the first time and never ate with any of you).

As of the early morning, all three became your colleagues. The diversity of this workplace is astounding.

“Hey, does anyone know if Lord Dio eats during the day?”

“You stupid girl. How dare you ask such a personal question about our Lord Dio?”

“…thanks, Vanilla Ice.”

Seriously  was that long-haired maniac exhausting to speak with.

…it was a genuine question, alright? He’s always cooped up in his room and you never see him in the dining hall.

Reportedly, there were a few others living here in the mansion, but none of them had any business meeting you personally. Learning all of their names was a gradual process, it seemed.

It was only until tonight where leaving the guest room had a legitimate purpose besides eating. Telence had knocked on the double doors, prompting you to alert your presence by knocking back. He had a particular rhythm while knocking, so even before the doors opened, you knew it was him. Out of the colleagues that you’ve met, he’s probably been the only one you had positive opinions about.

The butler’s eyes widen at the sight of you clad in silk pajamas that he personally provided.

“Oh, were you just about to retire for the night?” he asked in an apologetic tone. He held his hands behind his back as he stood before you. “Forgive me for disturbing you, Miss…”

You shook your head. “No, it’s fine, I wasn’t sleeping yet or anything. Is there something wrong, Telence?”

Sighing, Telence replied, “Well… Lord Dio requests your presence in the dining hall.”

…oh.

Glancing down at your pajamas and back up at the tattooed butler, you purse your lips.

“Immediately?”

“Immediately,” he repeated. You see him briefly glance down at your hands, your fingers… his eyes widen before the outer corners crinkle due to him smiling. “Don’t feel the need to get dressed up— I’m sure your presence alone will suffice, really.”

Was it that urgent?

What in the world would you speak about with Lord Dio?

…well, it’s not like you’re complaining.

Telence stepped aside to make way for you as you walked out of the guest room. You felt the cold stone beneath your socks, and the temperature made you stand up straighter. Deeply inhaling— and (still) smelling the faint scent of corpse— you step onto the never-ending runner rug with Telence at your heels and rambling.

——

“Really? It  had  to be you taking me to the Airport?”

Vanilla Ice took a second to glare at you through the rear-view mirror. Per Piper’s (drunken) suggestion before you left, you were blindfolded with a handkerchief of his to prevent you from seeing the exterior of the mansion and the route. To Vanilla Ice, you were surprisingly obedient about it. Nor was it a terrible idea, but he’d never openly admit that.

Once you arrive, you better get that handkerchief back from her!

Why so? It resembles a defecation wipe.

Are you fucking stupid? It’s over 140 years old— it’s quite dear to me.

“I’m not enjoying this in the slightest, either. It seems that as of tonight, we have both experienced a loss.”

Out of everyone in the mansion, Vanilla Ice was the only eligible driver.

Kenny G— the Stand user with the illusions, apparently— forgot to apply for an International Driving Permit. Enya was too old to see the nighttime road properly and had to phone her son anyway. Telence had to monitor the mansion and order that guy Nukesaku around to clean. Nukesaku was  also  not trusted because everyone believed that he’d accidentally kill you in a car accident. Piper was mildly inebriated from the glasses of wine he had. And Lord Dio said he never learned. Also said he’d  never set foot near one until 1983… whatever that meant.

You purse your lips.

“You know, I didn’t even know you could drive.”

“I will sever your tongue.”

Rolling your eyes, you resort to staring at darkness for the rest of the car ride.

November 1988 || Tokyo, Japan

Tokyo is very different in the 80’s, which you fully process the second you pass through the terminal at Narita the next morning.

Granted, you’re coming from a different age— literally— though the sight of everything continues to overwhelm you. There hasn’t been a single thing that you  haven’t  been surprised by, including the lack of questioning from your now-forged passport and the contents of your luggage.

Back in 2011, surely you would’ve been detained due to possessing a passport with a changed birth year and expiration date. Surely the LCD-screened smartphone that was slightly bigger than a pager would’ve gotten you stopped, because not only is that not even supposed to  exist yet, but it could easily be mistaken for some sort of explosive device in 1988. However, a simple nod was given to you each time you passed a checkpoint, confusing you.

It’s not like you  wanted  to get caught— no. The suspiciously lax restrictions from security just weirded you out more than anything.

Right after an hour-long taxi ride to Meguro-ku, you set out on foot with your duffle-bag backpack. Naturally, your clothing garners confused stares from locals as you passed by. Your old backpack did you no favors considering how half of your belongings became broken, so you ended up being given some durable expensive-looking bag from the mansion’s butler. He looked to be about your age, so it was… nice… to have another young contemporary working for Lord Dio.

After handing the new backpack to you, Telence had obliviously asked for tips on getting married at a young age—  like you, he points out,  as he wanted to propose to his girlfriend one day. This ended up pissing you off more than it normally would, especially as you realize that you stupidly left your wedding ring in plain view.

You were here in a different country, in a different continent, in a different  year, in a  different universe, and you were locked up in one of the guest rooms. Mysteriously, nothing built in that room actually had traces of metal. You were trapped— even during dinner before that, which contained actual food and not scraps like you assumed— and he had the nerve to bring up your husband. It still hasn’t been a whole fucking week yet.

Your subsequent argument with Telence unfortunately soured a beginning of camaraderie with him, which was a shame. He was probably the only person who tolerated you in the mansion, besides the old woman who shot you with the Bow and Arrow. However, you didn’t see much of Enya, nor did your colleagues. Lord Dio didn’t really count as someone you could befriend, as you were tiers below him and thus, weren’t worthy enough to do so.

But it’s not like any collective agreement was made to befriend colleagues in the first place. You could tell— based on the other servants— that carrying out tasks alone was preferred over collaborating. The same was expected for you, which explains your lack of accompaniment. You’re expected to do everything yourself, but that’s fine.

Hopefully, your work ethic comes back into play when finding Joseph Joestar and his group— whoever those people are.

——

You’re currently sitting in a room at a small fertility clinic a short drive away from the hotel. While you were still in Cairo, you brought up a desire to visit a fertility clinic again, prompting Telence to book an appointment for you here (pre-argument). Like everything else, Lord Dio had taken care of the expenses.

As you waited for the specialist, you patiently sat on the medical exam table in one of the rooms, fiddling with your fingers and staring at the open window. The clipboard with a long questionnaire had already been filled out and was set down beside you on the smooth table paper. Through the glass you see a large, strangely-modern building right across from the clinic.

SPEEDWAGON ☸ FOUNDATION  

Huh.

Since it’s the late 80’s, they probably became defunct by the 2010’s or something. You’ve never heard of that company before. Though, their architecture definitely looked more like something you’d see back in 2011.

Anyway, your eyes avert from the window to the closed door of the exam room. The day of your previous clinic visit made you cry tears of happiness, as that was the day you discovered that your IUI procedure performed weeks before was successful. You and Noriaki went out for dinner that night to celebrate, knowing that you couldn’t really go to a bar to do that anymore.

That was probably the last of your good memories. Of course, you remembered what brought it along in the first place.

July 2011

This was only the second time you’ve been to Jotaro’s apartment. The phone call you had with him warranted a rare visit from you.

His apartment is a large studio, and you’re a little shocked by the sheer size of it. Near the television was a large shelf unit that caught your attention, so naturally you approach it with curiosity.

The large shelf unit contained various marine-themed trinkets, along with a few model ships and non-flying model airplanes. Rows of manga and American comics filled the top shelves, while Blu-ray cases of movies tightly lined the lower ones. As your eyes skim through each shelf, you notice the lack of anything relating to family, save for a total of… three frames.

One had a younger Jotaro— you’d guess elementary school-age— with his parents; his blonde and green-eyed mother gleaming while his black-haired and brown-eyed father giving a smirk reminiscent of his son’s. Another had Jotaro visiting Italy with his mother and maternal grandparents, though you could tell this was taken within the last five years. The last one had current-Jotaro with two other men; one you immediately recognized as that same grandfather in a dark button-up, a green tie, and suspenders, but the other you had no recollection of. With black hair that had a tint of blue, slightly outdated clothing, and muscle mass  far  surpassing the other two… yeah, you had no idea who that was.

Jotaro peers over his shoulder to find you standing in front of the shelf unit, preoccupied.

“Are you okay?”

You look over, shaking your head.

“Yeah,” you respond, crossing your arms over your chest. You continue to stare at the photo, wondering if you’ve met that person before. He didn’t look any older than Jotaro’s parents; honestly, he was probably just an uncle of his. The resemblance to Jotaro and his grandfather (what was his name, again?) was a bit uncanny, after all.

Anyway, Jotaro notices what you’re looking at.

“Do you want tea?” he blurts out all of a sudden, sincerely hoping you’d place your focus elsewhere. “Or… eh,  anything?”

You shrug, (finally) deciding to leave the photo alone. Not once do you notice his looming nervousness.

“Sure, ah… I’m fine with tea.”

When you’re not looking, Jotaro lets out a small exhale of relief as he heads over to the open kitchen to prepare a teapot. Just once more do you sneak a glance at the photo before heading to the dining table. Once you’re there, you either watch him make what seems to be green tea, or sit there daydreaming. You absentmindedly poke at his white hat, which sat on a textbook about marine invertebrates beside you.

It’s less than a month until summer break. You’ve been trying to study for finals this semester, which for the most part you’ve succeeded in doing so. However, since the first clinic visit, your concentration has started to falter. Most of the time, instead of focusing on exams for your 300-level classes, you’ve been focused on Noriaki.

He hasn’t been talking to you much since, and it worries you. For the past few days you’ve been trying to indirectly comfort him, from preparing food for him or doing other things— non-sexual, you might add— that were previously successful in making him happy. Such actions were indirect, because he seemed to react better when you weren’t in his presence. It hurt; every time he never responded to you or enacted in any sort of physical contact with you was like being stabbed multiple times, the knives getting slower and slower and excruciatingly more painful as it entered and penetrated through layers of your body.

You never went against Noriaki’s wishes. To betray him in such a way was unforgivable; it made you unworthy of being his partner. Though, being here in Jotaro’s presence already seemed like a red flag. Noriaki never mentioned his displeasure about it once, but to talk to Jotaro about Noriaki himself… well, you hope that it’s worth it. After all, it was Jotaro himself that had called you here.

And in that phone call, you both first realize that you’ve been having the same thoughts regarding the redhead. Then, Jotaro had talked about something that  definitely  warranted a visit from you.

“I know what you’re thinking.”

You whip your head to Jotaro, who towered over you while carrying the tea tray. His brows were furrowed; he was giving you a hardened look as he set everything down in front of you.

He sits directly across from you, minding how his legs no longer have space to stretch out. As he pours you tea, the only sound that resonates in the room is the sound of the tea being poured. Nothing else— you can’t even tell if he’s breathing anymore, nor you.

“Don’t take any of this the wrong way,” Jotaro demanded.

He legitimately looked angry, even when you both toasted out of instinct.

You slowly blinked at him afterwards. “I wasn’t intending to, I just…”

“It’s okay for you to be confused— pissed off at me, even,” the black-haired man assures as he starts to sip his tea. There’s a brief flash of contentment on his face before he continues to frown. “I…”

Jotaro finally took the time to look into your eyes.

“Listen— he’s absolutely heartbroken,” was how Jotaro was describing the incident. “…it hurts. It hurts to see Noriaki act like that… I mean, we took  Ukon no Chikara  beforehand— so  mostly  nothing wrong health-wise— but Noriaki still looked like he was going to drink himself to death.”

Your breath hitches. This is the first time you’ve heard about Noriaki drinking since the clinic visit. Usually, if he drank, it was with you or Jotaro or anyone he could trust to bring him home if he became absolutely wasted (which, to be honest, didn’t take long to happen). He’s told you in the past that if he drank by himself in front of you, then that was the time that he hit rock bottom. Recent events have  sure  been telling.

“I… I can tell he is,” you solemnly admit after sipping from your own cup. “He won’t talk to me—”

“— still?” Jotaro interjected, until it occurred to him that you had more to say. He cleared his throat, apologizing. “...sorry.”

“It’s okay, but  yes … still. We’ve… I tried to talk to him, but I wanted to give him time to cool off and process everything because I know he… hasn’t.”

“How much time are you giving him?”

You shrug with genuine uncertainty.

“As much time as he needs, but… I hope it’s not something he shelves. We  do  need to talk about it— damnit,  I  want to talk about it as soon as possible.”

“You need to,” he agrees, sipping his tea.

“…yeah.”

For a minute or two, you and Jotaro sit at the table in silence, occasionally lifting your warm cups of tea to drink. There’s at least a dozen thoughts that travel through both of your minds, but neither of you vocalize them at all. Some of them are even about the same topic, but nothing comes out of your mouths.

“…not wanting a child is one thing, but… not being able to have a child is another… I’m so sorry…”

“Noriaki, please, let’s talk about this when we get home…”

“What is there to talk about? I’m a sterile, useless piece of shit. I failed you as your husband.”

“Don’t  say that— why would you say that?”

You rest your chin on your hand, elbow rudely propped up on the table.

“I want to help you two,” Jotaro blurted out, which made you perk up. “It just got me thinking…”

“And… that’s why you called me here? To— to ask me about it…?” you stammered.

“Yes.”

His eyes avert from you down to the tea tray.

You slowly nod.

“Because you want to… donate sperm,” you clarify, expressionless.

Jotaro choked out, “…yes.”

When he mentioned discussing it with Noriaki during the phone call with you, you froze in shock. It’s rather… bold… for him to bring up this suggestion, especially during a time when you and Noriaki were experiencing a time of grief. It’s also not everyday that you get a call about your good friend giving sperm to you while you’ve been fully immersed in watching a game show on the sofa.

You had nothing against sperm donation or assisted-reproduction tech in general, but you didn’t think it would ever be necessary for you and your husband of all couples.

And… well, there’s a massive amount of legal considerations. Jotaro was close friends with the both of you, which introduces an issue of involvement with the child’s life— even if it’s expressed in a contract that he  won’t  have any sort of parental relationship with them once they’re born. It would seem outrageous to stop being friends with him in order to not violate that. Also, you trusted Jotaro to be cooperative with whatever is specified in a contract, but a court might not see him that way.

The child would obviously not resemble their legal father, Noriaki, either. There’s no telling that they’ll resemble you more than the biological father, Jotaro, to the point where no one would question otherwise. You cringed at the idea of you three at some get-together a decade from now, where nosy family members start to gossip and rumor about a possible case of infidelity between you and the child’s biological father. The rumor would be a terrible burden for all of you, and not to mention a headache. One day, either you or Noriaki would attempt to explain to the young child about  why  they didn’t inherit their father’s red hair or lavender-grey eyes.

“I’ve been friends with Noriaki for almost six years,” Jotaro explained, setting his tea cup down. “And… I care about him—”

“—do you really want to do this?” you interjected, eyes wide. “Jotaro, I know you’re not impulsive or anything, but… this will change…  everything, you know. I don’t… I don’t want you to end up regretting this decision. You’ve got an entire future for you to experience, and… I don’t know, you might be at this stage of planning with whoever you vow to be with in that time. I don’t want all of  this  to complicate  your  life.”

It wouldn’t complicate his life— he thought everything through, even if he first told Noriaki in the spur of the moment. He was serious about this… about everything.

Jotaro had a stern look on his face.

“…but, do  you  want to do this?”

At that question, you turn away.

…did  you?

You let out a shaky sigh.

Do you really have any other option, though?

“I love him, Jotaro,” you say, starting to sniffle. You bring a napkin to your eyes to pat them dry. “I… I love Noriaki so much. I don’t want him to think that… this… will make me love him any less, but I just… it pains me to see him suffering like this, you know? I’m his wife, and yet I feel so useless— I can’t even do anything to help him myself…”

“That’s why I want to help,” he told you with a soft tone. “I don’t want to beg or plead or any of that bullshit, but I want you and Noriaki to make the decisions yourselves. Like you said, ah… what I’m doing  will  change everything. I want  you — the both of you— to think about this.”

You gaze over at him before hanging your head low.

“I… well, we don’t really have any other option,” you confessed. “Noriaki and I aren’t old enough to adopt here, so that’s out of the question, and…”

Trailing off, you try to think if there  were  other options in the first place.

Eventually, Jotaro cleared his throat.

“You— you don’t have to make this decision now, if that’s what you’re… ah, thinking.”

You rubbed your face with your hands, sniffling.

He’s right.

Why bother to pressure yourself with something like this at this very moment? There’s plenty of time for you to contemplate, for Noriaki to build up the courage to speak with you again, for the both of you to take the time to discuss this in whole…

Back at your apartment, Noriaki was sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed, mind wandering towards the topic that Jotaro had brought up to him on that night. He’s eating from a small bowl of cherries that you bought for him, which sits on his lap. His face is expressionless; there’s dried tears stained on his cheeks.

Of course, you don’t know that.

“Okay— no, yeah, I got that,” you finalize, nodding at Jotaro. You set your tea cup down rather loudly. “When, ah… when he’s ready to talk, I’ll… I’ll give you a call, alright?”

Jotaro nods back, the corners of his mouth upturning as he gives you a small smile.

November 28, 1988

They’re sitting patiently in another room beside the kitchen when the sound of a landline being slammed back into place is heard. Immediately, the three of them avert their eyes to the sliding door, waiting for the owner of the storming footsteps on the  engawa. The architecture of the family home— along with the unfamiliarity on the walker’s behalf— seemed to be accentuating every sound he makes as he approaches the door and roughly slides it open.

Seeing the towering, old man slide open the door with such force makes the three inwardly cringe— particularly the two teens.

The frame continues to lightly shake as he firmly speaks in his aged voice.

“[We board the flight to Cairo at 8:30 tonight],” Joseph Joestar announces in English as he ducks under the door frame, steps on the tatami, and stands directly in front of the three.

“[Why so late?]” the taller teen suddenly questions in an annoyed tone. He’s glaring at his grandfather as his hands are shoved in his front pockets; the bill of his black cap is pulled lower than usual.

It’s not obvious, but he’s starting to become antsy. The last thing he wants, however, is for his grandfather and the other two to pick up on that underlying anxiety of his.

Joseph sighs heavily, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

“Trust me, Jotaro— I asked the same question,” he replies with a frown. “The Speedwagon Foundation says that that flight is the earliest one. It’s also likely that Dio knows about our connection to the Foundation, so there’s no way we can directly travel under them either. Besides, they’re already sending some of their best doctors from all of their branches to monitor Holly here.”

“Did they say when they’ll be arriving?” the Egyptian man, Muhammad Avdol, asked.

Frankly, he’s still quite shaken after seeing Ms. Holly unconscious on the kitchen floor. The green vine-like Stand— similar to her father’s purple one— continued to grow and wrap around her back as it attacked her from the inside. He, like everyone else, knows that there can’t be much time left until Mr. Joestar’s daughter succumbs to the illness.

“There’s one coming from the Meguro branch today, and a few others flying in from America between tonight and tomorrow.”

Jotaro  tsk -ed.

“At least  we’re having  one  coming today,” Joseph repeats, giving his grandson a pointed look before turning away. “It’s… better than nothing.”

He didn’t respond to Jotaro’s further actions, which included a roll of the eyes and a swear grumbled under his breath.

The other red-haired teen cleared his throat.

“Ah… so what will we be doing until then?” Kakyoin asked, resting his hands over a large encyclopedia. His eyes averted to the wood grain alarm clock radio, which oddly sat on the low table beside him. “It’s only after 9, and we board that flight several hours from now.”

“Avdol and I could go out and get some supplies for our trip,” Joseph suggested, gesturing to himself and Avdol. Avdol nodded and hummed in agreement. “You and Jotaro could wait for the Foundation doctor here and look over his mother in the meantime, maybe ready a bag of clothes, underwear, toiletries… whatever you need. But I recommend packing light— this trip to and in Cairo won’t be long.”

Kakyoin glanced up at Jotaro, who side-eyed him back. “I’ll just quickly drop by my house to pack some of my things, then. I don’t actually live that far from here.”

“If we’re driving, we can drop you off,” Avdol pointed out.

Joseph crossed his arms, nodding. “Yeah, just tell us the address. Luckily, these Japanese roads are like the ones in England— driving on the left side and all— except there’s not that much traffic here… one of the few good things about this place, I believe. But I almost hit a stupid cyclist the last time I was here, you know?  Sheesh!”

“Maybe because you never needed to drive on the left side of the road for fifty fucking years and forgot how to.”

The old man whipped his head over to Jotaro with a glare before sighing in defeat. “That may be true, but  watch your language! Again!”

Jotaro grunted.

Joseph turned to speak with Avdol about their remaining expenses, who crossed his arms over his robed chest. Kakyoin strolled over to his towering classmate as he attempted to adjust the tight bandage around his forehead. Once he approached a respectable distance from him, Jotaro’s eyes darted to the covered wound from the flesh bud; the amount of blood that bled through had been decreasing, and there’s barely any stain as of this morning.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m a little eager to leave for Egypt,” Kakyoin quietly said with a content expression. He switched to Japanese to speak to him. “I wouldn’t mind revisiting so soon, despite having some… unpleasant memories, now that I think about it. It’s nice there, though.”

After letting out a curt hum, Jotaro also replied in Japanese, “I’ll take your word for it, but I just want to see that bastard, Dio, get what he deserves.”

Kakyoin lightly snorted. “I feel the same way.”

The redhead swears he sees a glint of amusement in Jotaro’s eyes— a rare occurrence, it seems. Though, he doesn’t mind it any longer when he sees him turning away from him. Jotaro calmly went over to the sliding door and comically opened it with much less force than his grandfather did before. Kakyoin resorted to watching him for a second before deciding to follow him for a few minutes. He was probably going to the other room to where his mother was, passed out cold and tightly tucked into a futon in the middle of the room.

It was a scary sight, to be honest. Having your Stand fight  you  instead of it fighting  for you— Kakyoin couldn’t even imagine how Mrs. Kujo was feeling right now. He didn’t know how long he’d be there to monitor her, as he had to leave with Mr. Joestar and Mr. Avdol soon to go to his house.

His parents both worked during the day, so luckily they wouldn’t be home to question his absence between yesterday and this morning. Somehow, the fight that he had with Jotaro during cram school yesterday felt like an eternity ago, and now here he was, planning to go on an impromptu trip to a different country.

“[I’ll— eh, Kakyoin and I— will be keeping an eye on Mom. Are you… all leaving now?]” Jotaro asked aloud in English to the two adults in the corner of the room.

His brows furrowed when they didn’t immediately answer, so he repeated his question much louder. Avdol was the first one to respond with a nod, so Jotaro was about to take that as the sole answer and leave. However, Joseph started to speak, and his abruptly soft tone made him and Kakyoin come to a halt. They stared at him in anticipation, but Avdol’s lips remained pursed. He must’ve already known what the old man was going to tell them.

“…I need to take another spirit photo,” he breathed out.

His head suddenly whipped around for any sight of a camera in the room. While his grandfather started to crouch and look under furniture, Jotaro already started to re-enter through the doorway and over to him. Kakyoin, on the other hand, stayed where he was at the front of the sliding door.

“So, you’re both not leaving now? Haven’t you taken enough, already?” he asked gruffly.

Joseph sighed as he pulled out drawer after drawer, opened container after container.

“Yes, and I’m not sure why, but… I feel like I need to take another one.”

——

It takes about twenty minutes, but Joseph finally manages to find a camera in the Kujo household that he hasn’t destroyed to pieces yet.

“Oi, old man. That’s my dad’s camera—”

“—perfect.”

“…good grief.”

He (begrudgingly) sits at the low table, carefully situating the black Polaroid camera in the middle. The Egyptian man and the two teens resort to standing around him, eyes narrowed at him and the camera. All they hear is the inhales and exhales from their breathing; Joseph continues to watch the camera in scrutiny, as if he’s devising his ‘attack’ on the camera. While Jotaro and Avdol have seen the old man’s Stand in action, Kakyoin only saw a blur of purple when the flesh bud was being pulled out of him. He must’ve used it then, but the redhead’s mind and senses were in such a shambles that he could barely tell.

Suddenly, Joseph slowly (and dramatically, in Jotaro’s opinion) lifts up his buff arm.

“…Hermit Purple!”

The incandescent purple vines flash to life around his hand and forearm, and his brows furrow. His arm practically slams down on the camera—  obliterating  it to smithereens— and the three of them feel the pieces of the device being thrown against their clothed legs. Yet, somehow, the camera still manages to produce a photo, which Joseph snatches.

Perhaps they couldn’t tell, but Avdol was always slightly amused at the sight of him destroying a camera with Hermit Purple. He’s sure that there’s another way to obtain a spirit photo without harming a camera in any form, but this will have to do for now. There isn’t much time to advise him how to use an ability of a Stand that wasn’t even his own.

The old man brings the photo up to his not-really-aged eyes, watching it develop. However, when it does, his eyes widen.

His back stiffens at the sight— what  …  what is this?

“Oh my God.”

Joseph rapidly blinks, hoping that his age didn’t finally catch up to him. Maybe he should’ve kept practicing Hamon if his eyesight was already going down the drain, because… uh…

…where’s Dio?

He doesn’t see Dio this time.

In fact, Dio isn’t anywhere to be seen in the photograph.

This has to be some sort of… absurd, bizarre joke!

It’s a woman.

It isn’t Holly (that would make no sense, to be honest), it isn’t Suzie, it isn’t even his  mother  for God’s sake, so who…

Joseph swears that he sees a hint of metal from her shoulder, despite her oversized clothing from the neck down. Whatever she wore was large enough that its collar exposed the lower portion of her neck. She’s only depicted from the side, but there’s a vignette in the photograph that makes it difficult for him to see her face. The background behind her resembled cloth; it was probably a blackout curtain. She had to be in some sort of room because of that, and Joseph wonders if Jotaro’s Stand will be able to identify the type.

If it matters, Joseph also notices the lack of a star-shaped birthmark behind her neck. At least she wasn’t another blood-related relative to worry about, but more questions start to arise.

Who  is  she?

“There’s someone else in the photograph,” Joseph said after a minute, astounded.

The other three’s eyes widen and dart from one person to another in shock.

How…

There’s no way…

“Who?” Jotaro demanded, snatching the Polaroid photo from his grandfather’s gloved mechanical hand. He swears out loud; the vignette obscures her face to the point where even he doubts that Star Platinum would be able to recreate her face on paper. Kakyoin cranes his head to take a look at the photo and he, too, sees the woman with the blurred face and the metal (what?) shoulders. Jotaro grunted before placing it in Avdol’s outstretched hand. The Egyptian man studies it without an ounce of recognition, even while he attempts to identify the background behind her.

Joseph scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t know. But it’s definitely not Dio.”

“Why did a woman appear in the photo instead of Dio? You should double-check,” Avdol advised, calmly handing the photo back to Joseph.

With the Polaroid photo in hand, he slams his hands on the low table. Pieces of the remaining camera shook and briefly jumped in place as he did so. Jotaro kicked the pieces that landed near his feet.

“Alright— Jotaro! Do you happen to have another camera lying around the house? I promise I’ll buy a new replacement afterwards.”

Jotaro rolled his eyes, watching his grandfather  not  hear his reply as he shot up from the ground and stormed out through the sliding door once again.

Meanwhile, Avdol’s eyes landed back on the low table, staring at the developed Polaroid photo. It was peculiar, to say the least— Dio had been showing up in all of Joseph’s spirit photos, yet only now was the subject of the photo different. This couldn’t be unintentional, though… they were able to derive an adequate amount of information from Dio’s photos— the  fly, for goodness’ sake— so maybe they could do the same with this woman’s. Whatever reason Hermit Purple suddenly produced a photo of  not Dio  had to be important, but they’ll just have to figure it out on the way to Egypt.

“She must be another one of Dio’s servants,” Avdol suggested with a sour tone. “We’ll have to keep an eye out for a woman with similar clothing just in case.”

At that, Kakyoin narrowed his eyes.

——

Sitting on the foot of the bed in your hotel suite, you carefully twirl around the two SSDs from your now-scrapped laptop in your hand. You plan to warp the laptop’s hardware into indistinguishable pieces to prevent an early breakthrough from someone bizarre and smart enough to find it in the trash and rebuild it. The SSDs, on the other hand, had a large amount of files—  photos— that you desperately wanted to keep in your possession.

You scratch the back of your neck.

It feels as if someone’s watching you in here, but you know you’re alone in the room.

——

…maybe you could take connecting flights?

You were strolling out of the travel agency building, dumbfounded. It just had to be today— it just had to be  now  where everything fucks up all around you.

“There’s only one flight to Cairo today, and it’s fully booked. Also, it’s actually… boarding in an hour. I, on behalf of Nippon Travel Agency, apologize… would you like to book the next flight to Cairo? It will be in three days, 14:00 or 2 PM.”

Three days? That’s… the 1st of December.

It doesn’t seem that far away, but to your boss, that must seem like an  eternity. You’d be utterly fucked if you don’t take this flight today— Joestar’s travel group was leaving the country in an hour. Leaving to go to Cairo, arriving in less than a day without you pursuing them. Your boss would have your head if they manage to find the mansion the same day they arrive. If you aren’t at the group’s tails, even worse. Yes, he’d have your head—  literally.

Goddamnit, what else could you do? You made the suggestion to fly out to one of the nearest countries to Egypt instead, but all of the flights to their major cities were scheduled after today. At this point, it seemed like Egypt or bust.

What would Lord Dio say, if he was before you right now? Maybe the other servants back at the mansion were tempted to treat you like a laughingstock now. You, the one who failed to complete the most basic task, and not to mention your first.

The hotel suite came with a fax machine. Unfortunately, you only discovered this after a message was sent to you, the sound of it going off alarming the hell out of you.

You were vaguely familiar with its mechanics; for some reason, a lot of Japanese companies in 2011 still required its usage and preferred it over Internet-based options. This included the company you worked at, which was slightly irritating to say the least. But since it’s 1988, and the usage is even  more  widespread, there’s a part of you that feels like tearing your hair out.

Anyway, it was a message from that fax machine that prompted you to check out from the hotel and head to the nearest travel agency.

There, Lord Dio had informed you that Joseph Joestar was going to leave Tokyo with his group today. He’s booked the very flight you were  supposed  to be on… and he and his group were going to leave in an hour.

Without you.

Yes, without you, to go after  your  boss. The audacity he—  they — have to pursue Lord Dio with the intention to kill him. This was nothing you could excuse— you  had  to stop them. You knew that it was just to do so.

…now that you think about it, a connecting flight to Cairo doesn’t seem that bad. It’s better than not arriving in Cairo at all, to be honest.

However, that presents a gigantic issue. What if it’s too late, by the time you arrive? Once you fly from Tokyo to the next country, there’s no way to tell if that next flight will be delayed or even cancelled. You’d constantly have to check at or call a travel agency to get information because it’s not like you could search on the Internet on a computer here. You’d have to ensure that you still have enough money by the end of this shitshow; after all, airfare in the 1980’s was much more expensive than in 2011, and every hotel you’ve been recommended was unnecessarily luxurious. Luckily, that one was easily solvable, but there’s  still  everything else…

Enough of this thinking.

You’re running out of time.

Quite literally— that travel agency was closing its doors for the day in less than 30 minutes, and a result, would cut off any chance of you successfully completing Lord Dio’s task. And, as a result of  that, your body would probably be thrown in a paupers’ grave somewhere near the mansion.  Or  it would even be left inside. There  was  that odd scent of old blood in the corridors.

You frowned.

Taking a deep breath, you hope this was worth it in the end.

No— what are you talking about? It would be. You’d just have to trust yourself, here.

In an act of impulsion, you come to a halt, spin around, and sprint back to the travel agency building.

—

--> To Be Continued -->

Up Next: Last time you checked, they weren’t supposed to be alive and eating breakfast at a table right across from you.

Link to the Table of Contents

[miss-m-calling]

Rare Pairs 2020 letter

Canons requested: American Gods (TV), The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, Starred Up, Witchblade (TV),  킹덤 Kingdom (Netflix)

Dear writer,

Hello and thank you for writing for me. I’m very excited to read whatever you come up with.

Without further ado…

Requests:

American Gods (TV)

Laura Moon/Mad Sweeney

I ship it. Yes I do. They had me at “gimme-my-coin-dead-wife”-flicks-him-into-wall. The snarky road trip was the best thing I never knew I wanted until it happened, and I adored every second of it, not to mention the upped shippiness in S2. They’re both such assholes and so fascinating, even if they start to mellow toward each other a bit, and all the gods/magic/resurrection stuff swirling around them begs to be explored further. Also I love love love how their dynamic is about equal parts spikiness, pathos, and humor (they’re funny! and the canon doesn’t shy away from putting them in ludicrous situations), and it weaves seamlessly between those three. Plus she’s half his size yet can and does beat him up with literally one finger, and then there’s the angst of he having killed her, feeling really guilty about it, and then bringing her back. And the way that their New Orleans adventure makes clear they have feelings for each other (S1 was more one-sided Sweeney -> Laura) but neither wants to admit it. And and and… yeah, I just love them. Canon-specific DNWs: Sweeney dying/staying dead (at least permanently), Laura as Essie’s reincarnation/descendant or a reincarnation/whatever of Sweeney’s wife from back when he was a king in old Ireland (or a lot of focus on those relationships), either Laura or Sweeney as an inanimate corpse in a smut scenario

My prompts are a combo of prompts I had after I binged S1 and others I added throughout S2. Even if some of this is addressed or hinted at in canon, feel free to diverge – canon divergences and canon-adjacent stories are my jam!

-Please give me either missing scenes from the road trip (if you can work in a divergence, that’s great - for example, I like Salim, but if you want to have him boot Sweeney and Laura to the curb and go off on his own, or Sweeney to boost his taxi before Salim catches them, or whatever else to have those two alone, go for it!), or a divergence from either season (instead of going to Ostara, they go where? to see whom? about getting Laura resurrected. Or things go down differently in New Orleans, or Cairo, or anywhere else) or something about these two post-canon.

-Laura discovers (how? you decide!) that Sweeney gave her back the coin after their accident – whatever happens next, some punching may be involved. (If nothing else, Mama-Ji mentions that the coin is now in Laura’s heart, and we saw Sweeney place it on her ribcage after the accident, whereas it was originally in her gut like she’d swallowed it. Laura might ask herself how the hell it moved.)

-Wednesday’s big war finally comes, and “don’t you dare die on me [again], you asshole” is a line either Sweeney or Laura (or both) might say to each other.

-Laura asked “What does Wednesday have to lose?” and the answer is…? (Yes, give me that sweet poetic justice. One possibility, though not remotely the only one, but as of S2E3 Laura is technically a god-killer...) Or later when she straight-up says she’s going to kill Wednesday, but is warned to bring power with her when she does, how does that work? How else might she damage Wednesday or ruin his plans, just in case she can’t actually kill him?

-At the end of S2, Laura hoists Sweeney’s dead body over her shoulders and strides off, seemingly leaving Cairo, Shadow, and all of it behind. Tell me what happens then – does she use Baron Samedi’s potion to bring him back, and whose is the blood filled with love she uses (does she still bleed? You could get creative here, worldbuilding is also my jam)? Does her/his coin play a part – and how come the coin still “powers” Laura despite Sweeney’s death? Does she bring him back another way, maybe figuring out how to keep herself around and be able to give Sweeney back his coin? Does he come back like she did, more undead than alive, or does his godhead, however depleted, help with that? That still leaves Laura to be fully resurrected too… Or does something completely out of left field happen – surprise me!

-Possible divergences from “Treasure of the Sun”: Sweeney manages to kill Wednesday, and then Laura rolls up, and then…? Or Laura rolls up and makes like Mama-Ji told her – destroys some motherfuckers? Or Sweeney gets killed temporarily but Laura brings him back, or brings herself back, or does something else with the Baron’s potion, and is Sweeney’s blood the one filled with love, or can we interpret voodoo spells in a non-literal way? Or what happens with Gungnir hidden in Sweeney’s hoard? And definitely how do they deal with each other once they meet up in Cairo, given how they parted in New Orleans (I don’t know what hurt more to watch: Laura deflecting at the diner, or Sweeney rambling drunkenly about her when Shadow finds him, or later on telling Shadow with such desperate sincerity to keep her away from Wednesday)?

-Or how about a wild divergence from the last several episodes? Sweeney and Laura manage to settle their differences (ahem, more fucking, on this plane of reality, might help) and don’t part ways before leaving NOLA. Or they roll up in Cairo separately but at the same time, and confront Wednesday together, and neither of them die (or die more, in her case). Or they’re there together when the police nearly raid the house. Or they have Wednesday (the ultimate cause of Laura’s death) and Ibis (a death deity) and Bilquis (a love/death/life deity) on hand, surely they can concoct some kind of resurrection thingamajig for Laura, and if they have to twist some divine arms then so be it. Or or or…?

-Wednesday told that luckless cop that Sweeney had been against the big gods’ war from the start, and while Wednesday lies, what if Sweeney decided much sooner to say to hell with Grimnir and his war and his having Sweeney kill random people? I’m guessing Sweeney too drank three glasses of mead so he can’t back out without dire consequence – but he does have a fierce, dead woman in his corner.

-They go to some as-yet-unnamed old god (feel free to bring in whatever mythology you want) in order to bring Laura back to life. Between Sweeney’s mouth and temper, and Laura’s mouth and temper, it doesn’t go well. Now one or both of them are in big magical trouble with a pissed-off deity and have to get themselves/each other out of it. Speaking of other deities, I really enjoyed their brief canon interactions with Ostara, Anansi, and Mama-Ji, and I’d like to see more of that, especially Ostara’s polite yet over-it attitude, Anansi very obvious over-it attitude and his dramatic flair, or Mama-Ji being one of the few capable of giving Laura pause.

-All the petty, ridiculous ways in which Sweeney’s bad luck manifests itself make me laugh (can’t help it, won’t even try), and I’m down for more variations on that theme.

-Sweeney and Laura fighting together, like they did on Mr. Town’s train of torture. Whether it’s a bar fight of their own making, or the big gods’ war they find themselves embroiled in, or something else entirely.

-Things happen and Laura finds herself in the position to throw Sweeney under the bus but also help/save him, and while he knows it’s only karma (he did kill her way back when), he can still be pissed off about it – how do they navigate this?

-Related to that, the Baron said: “In death is her true love, but she betrays him also.” If that meant Sweeney, or can mean Sweeney in the future (I don’t like destiny-wills-it stories, and they’re definitely not there yet, but they could maybe get there at some future point, and even then It Would Be Complicated), was the betrayal Laura rejecting him after the loa ‘fuck them,’ or is it something that hasn’t happened yet, and if so, what?

-Laura gets fully alive again, but traces of her (un)dead state remain – what are they, how does she cope, what price did she/he/they have to pay for her resurrection, and how does their relationship change? I’d especially be curious how it would work if they’re already a sorta-maybe-item and then she’s alive again and it’s weird in a new way.

-For reasons I’ll leave up to you, Sweeney and Laura have to stay put in a single place for a while and end up essentially cohabiting, regardless of what their relationship is at that point. Take “cohabiting” as literally or as creatively as you want – in any case, I’m sure it will be marvelously disastrous and amazing. If the place they have to stay happens to be NOLA, all the better, I find everything about that city fascinating. Or, if you wanted to use book canon, Laura and Sweeney (rather than Shadow) are the ones who have to spend time living in Lakeside and deal with its creepy Norman Rockwell-ness and with Hinzelmann.

-Slight or major AU from the opening of “The Ways of the Dead”: Laura has hitchhiked with Sweeney instead of going off in a huff with Wednesday, or she otherwise gets to New Orleans sooner, and she and Sweeney tear up the town together. Gimme bar fights, carnival shenanigans, all the food and drink porn, backstage craziness with the Christian rock band (Sweeney seems to have a backstage pass on a lanyard around his neck when Laura finds him)… Maybe they even cross the paths of some loa and it doesn’t get all angsty (for what it’s worth, I think the reason the sex magic didn’t bring Laura back to life was because she couldn’t accept the truth(s) revealed during the astral-plane sex and just ask Sweeney to prick his finger for the potion – instead she defaults straight to “this is all Wednesday’s evil plan” the morning after – not because the loa fucked them over). They were actually getting along nicely in those first couple of scenes in NOLA, only ribbing each other a little while still being their grouchy selves, before they got to Le Coq Noir. I wouldn’t have minded seeing some more of that.

-AU from the end of “The Ways of the Dead”: they still have their big fight (which was amazing as well as painful) or some variation thereof, but they don’t split up. (Maybe the reason is as mundane as Sweeney refusing to get left behind or they have a shared ride out of town, or maybe the more time passes the less Sweeney can afford to be far from his coin – or maybe the coin needs him close by to work at full capacity.) And then what?

-All the old gods hide their true appearance to an extent. A situation arises in which Laura sees Sweeney’s true, or at least old, self (I’m thinking of his surprise!poignant monologue about when he used to be a king, and him in full Celtic warrior mode in the S2 flashbacks). Or Wednesday’s war ends in victory, meaning the old gods again get belief, worship, and sacrifices. How does Laura, the ultimate skeptic even when she’s on the other side of the mirror, react? How does this new knowledge and new reality change her opinion of/attitude to Sweeney? Or to flip that around, if Sweeney were again relevant and believed-in, would that actually change his bad attitude and fix his issues (my guess is it would be complicated)? On that note, Sweeney’s decline from Lugh to king to leprechaun was more sketched in than really explored in canon, ditto I didn’t really get why he couldn’t seem to remember his own history except in snatches (the curse that made him a bird/madman of the woods?) – I’d love to see more about it and his (not) dealing with it, or with a reversal of that decline. Eorann told him long ago to adapt and change with the times – but what does that mean after humpteen centuries in a rut and becoming used to always feeling angry and unappreciated?

-The power of names, since they never use each other’s in canon: for all his “dead wifeing,” there comes a time when Sweeney (has to) call her by her actual name, and that’s a tricky moment for them to navigate. Or, Mad Sweeney is not his actual name, and true names have great magical power and so must be kept secret; Laura discovers or learns his name, from someone else or from himself; what does she do with that knowledge? Or, Sweeney gets to say “cunt” in a situation (sexual or otherwise) where, not only does Laura not peel his lips from his gums, but she finds that she can’t object, even though she knows that he knows that he’s getting away with it.

-So far in canon, it’s pretty clear that Sweeney has a lot of complicated but sincere feelings for Laura. Laura is still pretty focused on Shadow (or rather her idealized vision of Shadow and what their relationship might yet be), whom she seems to equate with her own lost-maybe-to-be-regained life, although that’s starting to change at the end of S2. For one thing, she’s starting to soften toward Sweeney as she realizes he’s doing things for her that are not all about getting his coin back (and her sparring match with Wednesday in “Muninn” as well as Shadow refusing to be called puppy anymore in “Moon Shadow” may finally force her to accept that her relationship with Shadow died alongside her and Robbie on that road in Indiana). Not to mention the shared truth revealed in “The Ways of the Dead” (bullshit was that just Laura’s truth!) and how Laura flips out rather than deal with it and Sweeney can’t spit out that it mattered to him either, or how obviously cut up she is about Sweeney’s death despite refusing to admit it. Tell me the story of how Laura stumbles her way to feeling – and acknowledging that she feels – more complex, maybe kinder or softer, really annoying for her blunt-force-trauma-personality things about Sweeney and about the notion that her dynamic with him is different from the way she tended to use men for her convenience without really letting them in in the past. Also I’m pretty sure that even if they can admit they feel the same – or sorta in the same ballpark – about each other, their relationship would still run on a lot of conflict, and I would so be here for it.

-On that note: in “Munnin” it also becomes clear that Laura has, without realizing it herself, started to rely on Sweeney. The “I trusted you” line made me think, whoa she’s too furious to catch herself doing it but this is huge for Laura, and the fact that she goes off with Wednesday (!) basically because she’s mad at Sweeney because she thinks he’s prioritizing his debt to Wednesday over her… Yeah, I would like to see that explored some more and/or to see Laura and Sweeney get to a point where they trust each other and rely on each other, and know it and accept it, however difficult the getting there and being there may be for them.

-Sweeney has this intense need to see himself as a brave person and someone worthy of the world’s respect – but his past and his long experience as just a leprechaun have chipped away at that. Add the guilt of having been the instrument of Laura’s death and then all the pesky feelings he develops for her, and it’s a lot. Obviously his final actions in S2 are his trying to reclaim that courage and nobility of old (also to spite Wednesday, who’s messed both him and Laura up), but I would love to read about his character development under different circumstances, where Laura is there all the way, as opposed to them parting ways and meeting up again multiple times like in canon.

-And since I’m on the subject of Laura, you know how she’s not actually an abrasive bitch all the time to everyone? And when she is, the people on the receiving end of it sometimes richly deserve it, or very occasionally they push back (ILU, Mama-Ji!), and anyway it’s refreshing to see a female character who defaults to confrontational and doesn’t bother flirting and accommodating others for the sake of social harmony? As much as I enjoy watching her rip into people (ahem, Sweeney), I also love it when she acts differently, like her genuine interest in getting to know Salim and her joy in seeing him again in S2, or her running passive-aggressive battle of wills with Wednesday. Her beginning to feel sympathy for Sweeney and her anger and disappointment when she feels let down by him are a part of that, and I’d love to see all that explored more. Nuance! Give me all the nuance and seeming contradictions in both Laura and Sweeney’s characters!

-Sweeney and Laura get drunk and wake up married. Or some sex and/or blood resurrection spell results in basically an unbreakable marriage bond, whether it also secures resurrection or not. Or marrying the dead keeps them (sorta) alive. Or being married makes it possible for them to share magical/supernatural abilities. They’re both pissed about it, but secretly having to make it work may not be the worst thing that’s ever happened...

-My perfect AG spinoff would basically be Sweeney and Laura tooling around America, looking to get her resurrected (whether they succeed or not is up to you), stealing ever more ridiculous vehicles, arguing/fighting and having those pesky moments where vulnerability and genuineness creep in – and fucking. So yessiree I’d be down for porn, including “it’s technically necrophilia/zombiesex” porn, including a canon-divergent first time, or their second time, or all the later times after they had their first time in NOLA in canon.

-If you wanted to throw in some worldbuilding, maybe something exploring living death. Magical bargains. What kind of favor did Sweeney do for Ostara that would be worth her bringing someone back to life as repayment? What other powers might Sweeney have – or have left from when he was Lugh? How long can a dead wife keep going before she’s “soup”? What other superhuman abilities might dead!Laura have? Can the dead do magic? What even are the rules governing and the limits of different beings’ magical abilities? For example, why can’t Sweeney just take his coin back, or why does Laura gain super-strength as part of her undead package deal? Is the hoard in the same space as the behind-the-scenes accessed through the merry-go-round, or it’s a different place? Why does the coin seem to start to “run down” the longer Laura has it? Why did Wednesday need Laura to kill Argus when he killed Vulcan himself just fine? What happens with Gungnir now it’s in the hoard – can only Sweeney get to it, has it been transformed somehow (it’s now the treasure of the sun), etc.?

If it helps your inspiration, you can find some of my meta and lots of tag-burbling about these two here. I have read the book though I remember it only in bits and pieces, and while I prefer the show characters and the fact that they get thrown together, you can use or riff on book material if you want, though I’d prefer a story that isn’t just a retread of the book. With reference to one of my DNWs, for this canon, describing Laura’s physical decay is totally fine. Also, Shadow/Laura don’t interest me except as a part of Laura’s backstory (so if your story wants to include Laura figuring out or having already figured out that pinning all her hopes on Shadow to make everything right is unrealistic, unfair, and not how it works – by all means, go for it!), and Shadow/Sweeney interest me not at all.

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel (TV)

Lenny Bruce/Miriam “Midge” Maisel/Susie Myerson

Lenny Bruce/Miriam “Midge” Maisel & Miriam “Midge” Maisel/Susie Myerson

I’m here for Midge’s adventures in the intoxicating, foul-mouthed, and often-frustrating world of comedy, so her dynamic with Susie and Lenny is where it’s at. I just love the interactions between these three, and between every pair combination among them: Midge and Susie bantering and swearing and tits-upping even when they irritate each other, Midge and Lenny bringing the pathos as well as the humor, and Lenny and Susie both being hardened old pros with still a little glimmer of starry eyes. I am good with either V-shaped triad/poly or hey, Susie (whom I absolutely read as gay) might find a way to be good with a full-on triangle… And as much as I like the comedy inherent in the characters, I also love that they’re all three, each in their own way, messed up people and dysfunctional to various degrees. So yeah, I just want Midge to hand the kids over to her parents, ditch Joel once and for all, marry (interpret that as literally or as loosely as you want) both Susie and Lenny, and for the three of them to ride off into the sunset to make comedy history. Canon-specific DNWs: anything above M rating, pairing any two as a / couple with the third as a & hanger-on, and while Lenny can still be his RL messed-up, drugged-up self – albeit the gentler version the show gives us – it would be good if he didn’t kick the bucket a handful of years down the line.

Most of these prompts are from before S3 dropped – feel free to work with canon or diverge however you see fit, I am all caught up now:

-Does Susie manage them both? Does Midge open for Lenny on tour? Does he open for her??? Or they become equal stars on the comedy circuit?

-Maybe Lenny joins Shy Baldwin’s tour, or they run into him while touring Europe or the US, or after Shy fires Midge, Midge and Susie cobble together a Midge-only tour of America and keep crossing Lenny’s own touring path, and they all tool around, and yes I would love as much period detail and geography porn as you can throw at me. And while Lenny and Midge have seen the world, Susie hasn’t – her reaction to different foods, languages, customs, landscapes would be spectacular to witness. Especially if “different” is someplace as close to New York as Jersey or Connecticut, or someplace as far away and different as, say, Japan.

-If they do go to Europe, somehow or other they also tour the Soviet Bloc. Cue culture clashes, getting followed (or thinking they’re being followed) by the secret police, getting hammered on vodka and herring and pickles, and then when they get back to the States, the Feds grill them. It’s all dead serious, and Midge and Lenny refuse to take it as seriously as they should, while Susie is trying but the whole thing is really pissing her off…

-Lenny’s burned out, and Midge is just getting started. This dissonance may or may not find some sort of resolution. One thing’s for sure: Susie has limited patience for both Lenny’s depression and Midge’s need to make everything pretty.

-Instead of going to Joel for a no-way-is-that-closure fling after the Steve Allen Show taping, Midge goes to have a drink or seven with the two people who have, in their own ways, always been there for her and never let her down.

-Midge goes on TV again, this time as the star: longer set, prime time slot, dressing room, the works. She’s dying of nerves. Lenny and Susie coach her through it.

-More radio work to make ends meet in between gigs: hilaribad period ads, hilaribad radio drama, running all over town to be on time, getting paid in all kinds of dubious merch…

-Midge and Susie head out west to make it big and stay with Lenny once they’re in Los Angeles, and it’s marvelous (ha ha) and disastrous in equal measure.

-More of Susie being the hypercompetent manager we saw especially in S3! (And please don’t dwell on her gambling problem, I was not a fan.)

-They all three get drunk, maybe with a hint of sadness if it’s the holidays (you can ignore my DNW about holidays, but please let that be just the background, not the lynchpin of the story) or someone’s birthday, and there’s a bar fight, running from the cops, eating greasy food at ass o’clock, and possibly kissing, not necessarily in that order.

-One or two or all three of them get arrested/have court appearances all over America and have to bail each other out, or find someone to bail them all out, or secure legal counsel – you get the drift. Or all three of them are trying to explain to a single lawyer what happened, talking over each other, the two pros not being able to resist landing zingers and Susie not being far behind, and the lawyer just getting more and more confused.

-They get in trouble some other way – offended patrons, surly management, shitty hotels, tour bus breaks down in the middle of Wyoming – and have to have each other’s backs because no one else will.

-Three-person road trip or tour, and only Susie knows how to drive. So Midge decides to learn, right then and there. And Lenny… Lenny may or may not be too lazy/hungover/lying about not knowing how. There’s supposed to be a rotation so everyone gets to stretch out on the back seat for equal lengths of time, but you know the system doesn’t work too well in practice. Also, they play games in the car to while away the time, and they do it their own way of course: I spy, cows on my side, yellow car, never have I ever, 20 questions, or riffing on whatever’s playing on the radio…

-They sit down to watch the moon landing (you can move it up a bit so it’s not happening a whole decade after S2) – by which I mean, Midge is all gung-ho about the moon landing, and Lenny and Susie are like whatever – and things don’t quite go to plan, but a good time is eventually had by all.

-It’s Yom Kippur again, and Midge wants to do the whole production: synagogue, breaking fast, the lot. Lenny and Susie would rather eat glass. Midge gets her way, of course. Does she decide to bring Susie and Lenny home to meet – or meet properly – her parents??? I bet Abe and Rose’s reactions would be something to see. (This too is an exception to my DNW about holiday settings – I just want stuff to get as crazy as it did the two times we saw Yom Kippur celebrated on the show, and for everything to still somehow turn out relatively OK.)

-Midge and Lenny have cheered each other up when the going got extra rough. I want for Susie to be especially down in the dumps – maybe her boozehound of a mother died and Susie took it worse than she does in canon, maybe some asshole told her she’s a shit manager and got her right in her insecurities – and Midge to rope Lenny into trying to cheer her up. And for Susie to fight them every step of the way but still be glad they care enough to try.

-Inspired by Susie’s brother looking just like her, by which I mean she and he and their sister look nothing alike, and by Lenny’s “she’s my mother” quip about Midge at the TV studio and then his “let me introduce my wife or maybe my sister” in Miami – Midge, Susie, and Lenny pretend to all be blood relatives, or mafiosi, or spies, or something else they’re not, while out in public, say in a restaurant. Just to be assholes and see how long they can keep it going before they break character or people figure them out, or call the cops, or something. There’s totally a bet on who corpses and breaks character first. Or, nice hotels ca. 1960 weren’t very big on letting unmarried couples, let alone threesomes stay in rooms together – pretending to be family might make that easier; forgetting what they’re meant to be to each other, or mixing up their backstories might make it harder. Or they’re just trying to save money by only getting one room, there’s only one free room in the hotel, or any other screwball reason you can invent.

-Lenny and Midge do a (comeback) tour of the Borscht Belt, and all the Steiner Mountain Resort guests (especially the gossipy old hens from the beauty salon) and staff go to see them – and heckle.

-Stuff happens and they end up performing at some hole in the wall place where no one knows who they are (or no one believes it’s really those people they’ve seen on TV) – tough crowd, but a good workout for the two comics, and if Susie gets to threaten to rip off someone’s head, all the better.

-Lenny and Midge honing their routines – and maybe developing a double act – and Susie being all “oh my fucking god, what the fuck!!! … They’re actually good. I’m so proud.”

-Sharing a bed with two other people is an ongoing project: who sleeps (or refuses to sleep) in the middle? Who gets up during the night and why? Who starfishes across most of the bed? Who snores, and how does this get handled? If alcohol or pot have happened, how does that affect the sleeping arrangements? Also, Susie and Lenny witness and react to Midge’s beauty routine, ‘nuff said. Or, for various reasons one person after another ends up decamping to another room/bed/couch, but it doesn’t help them get much sleep or even stay there very long (this is inspired by my love of Shirley Jackson and her short story/humorous essay “The Night We All Had Grippe”).

Starred Up (2013 movie)

Oliver Baumer/Eric Love

Yes I do ship it, I do, I do!

Ahem. Don’t get me wrong, I liked what the movie did with the father-son relationship and its influence on both men’s character development – but I really wish they hadn’t got Oliver out of the action before the story’s climax (not like that!). The final denouement with Love father and Love son was great, as was the hint at the end that Eric learned something in anger-management group and has a support network that will help him a lot. But. I would have wanted to see more of the intriguing dynamic between Eric the intelligent, semi-feral, yet not-incorrigible, young thug and Oliver the educated, dedicated, kind yet aware of his own potential for violence (what was he on about with “I need to be here”?), slightly older counselor. They had me at Oliver’s “I want him” and Eric later telling his father that Oliver’s a better man than Love Sr. Also the not-flirting and the push-pull in the scene when Oliver picks up Eric from his cell - yowza!

For this canon, my dubcon DNW does not apply.

Prompts:

-I would love to see Oliver return to holding his group in prison, so the two of them can interact more, either in the movie’s immediate aftermath or years down the line, as it’s implied that Eric will be serving a long sentence. Give me more scenes from anger management or the ribald, honest, free-flowing conversations in group, either with the other men present (I liked Hassan and Tyrone especially, among the group members) or a one-on-one session.

-An oblique or open-but-undramatic admission/declaration that they both know there’s something there, even if they don’t know what to do with it. Or, one or both of them knows exactly what to do with it, and the push-pull that would result from that.

-Dirty talk: used for arousal, as a defense mechanism, as a form of flirtation. Eric using slurs to assert dominance, and Oliver not letting him hide behind profanity, when he can use colorful language to express emotion and/or sexual interest. There could definitely be some verbal taunting/flirting about who wants/is eager to do what or is good at doing something. There may be some sniping comments about logistics and (lack of) condoms and barebacking and what men get up to in prison. There probably wouldn’t be deep discussions about sexual identity.

-An emergency in the prison requires a lock-down, so Oliver gets temporarily stuck in Eric’s cell or another room with only Eric for company. Things get porny and/or emotional.

-Eric is eventually released (you can handwave this so it happens soon after the movie or have it happen years later) and crashes with Oliver while he adjusts to the outside world. You guessed it: things get porny and/or emotional.

-How do they get to the point where both can cross that line from friends/whatever the hell they are and become, to lovers? (There’s Eric’s personal history and general discomfort with vulnerability, plus all the ways prison sex can be or make things complicated, and if it helps, I headcanon Oliver as either gay or bi and at least somewhat closeted, at work especially.) Who initiates and “directs traffic”? How does their always-contentious dynamic shift during and after sex? Is the sex an isolated (series of) occasion(s), or a progression/escalation over multiple encounters (how would I love especially an escalating series of encounters, let me count the ways)? Eric might seem like the logical initiator and/or dominant partner as well as using the possibility of sex to manipulate and exert control, but then Oliver might (or might not!) surprise him and is definitely the one more in touch with himself as well as aware of his custodial duty toward the men in the group.

-At some point in their intimate relationship (probably not right at the start, and probably not in prison, though if you can make it happen in prison, more power to you!), Oliver decides he’s going to take his sweet time and make Eric fall absolutely apart with pleasure, while using dirty talk to both arouse and empower Eric to own his desires – by that point, Eric is in a place where he can let that happen and enjoy it, even if he still talks tough.

-Role reversal: Oliver as the con (jittery, shut off, sticking out like a sore thumb in prison with all his fancy learning, yet no pushover) and Eric as the newbie counselor (kid from the wrong side of the tracks made good? Youthful hoodlum turned around his life, now trying to help others via tough love and lots of swearing and maybe a bit of manipulation when called for?)

Witchblade (TV) Sara Pezzini/Danny Woo

I used to love this show back in the day, and loved it again in all its hokey gloriousness when I rewatched it recently. Sara figuring things out and being a principled badass, but maybe out of her depth with the Witchblade, and her dynamic with Danny, whether he's a ghost or alive, it’s all catnip to me. Sara is not extremely quippy, she has a job to do dammit! and don’t look at her vulnerable side, just don’t look at it!, and I love that about her (she’s much harsher in S1, after Danny’s death, than in S2); ditto that Danny is somewhat softer than she is, but still can hold his own thanksverymuch (well, when the plot doesn’t require him to get nabbed by bad guys) and has a bit of a deadpan snarker side too. I’d love something that plays around with their canon dynamic from either season, or uses canon as just a starting point. Some of my prompts lean dark or horror-y, so don’t be shy about going there; I’d also enjoy a story in which the Witchblade itself ends up not being very significant (say, they start to investigate a possibly mystical case and then nope, plain murder). Canon-specific DNW: Irons and any version of Nottingham appearing (you can mention them if you need to).

Prompts:

-The Witchblade is more parasitic than symbiotic, and instead of Sara learning to control it, its feeding on Sara affects her more and more over time. Or, the visions and dreams ramp up into full-blown paranoia and/or disassociation. The Witchblade's POV, maybe (it is sentient)? Asking for help is the hardest thing for someone like Sara, but what are (more than) friends for? I’d also enjoy a dubcon scenario (exception to blanket DNW) where Sara really shouldn’t be having sex when her head is all messed up by the Witchblade’s influence, but... well... they do. The Witchblade canonically enjoys violence and bloodshed perpetrated by its wearers, so it stands to reason that it might lower other inhibitions too.

-Witchblade v. mythological monsters. In S1, even with everything else that's going on, Sara absolutely scoffs at the possibility of vampires. So of course I want: Witchblade v. vampires! The scarier and more feral, the better. Or, it's implied that the Witchblade was forged from a meteorite, so it's basically an eldritch artefact from outer space. Yes, please lean all the way into the Lovecraftian tropes! (The moon is turning red, the Old Ones are back, it’s the end of the world as we know it, but Sara’s got her partner by her side.) Or something from Chinese mythology, so Danny can kick extra ass. Or, for a silly take on Chinese culture: Sara and Danny in the world of Big Trouble in Little China, another old fave of mine, the entire plot of which revolves around… a woman with green eyes and an unwanted connection to the supernatural.

-The Witchblade has a reputation for abandoning its wearers just when they need it the most. True to form, it slips off of Sara’s fist, leaving her and Danny to save themselves with good old-fashioned guns, fisticuffs, martial arts, and of course having each other’s back.

-More of the psychedelic-ness in many of Sara’s fight scenes, where now she’s a woman in a leather jacket with a gauntlet on her arm, now she’s a knight in armor! Now her opponent is human, now he’s a wolf-shaped spirit of evil and hatred! Playing around with the characters’ senses and perceptions – yes!

-Instead of seeing only Danny and needing him to play intermediary for Sara to talk to other ghosts, the Witchblade makes Sara see ghosts all over the place, and it's getting to her. Ghost!Danny may or may not help with that. Or, ghost!Danny is basically always around, whether Sara can see him or not. He manifests when Sara is masturbating, and you can't really feel guilty if the ghost of your dead partner whom you’ve always had a thing for helps you out, and anyway you’re probably going crazy and none of this is real, so it doesn’t count anyway... right?

-Case fic/stakeouts and banter. Flirting to pass the long and stressful days at work. Quick and guilty sex because Danny's married. Slow and intense sex if handwave he's not married but “oh noes we’re partners, we shouldn’t be doing this, but somehow we keep doing it anyway.” Hooking up in the car. I've always headcanoned that they had a thing pre-canon which ended for Reasons, but they both kinda wish it hadn't, hence the hand kissing, and the “I can’t even touch you,” and the coffee bringing/stealing, etc. So feel free to play around with that.

-Undercover as married, undercover as a gangster and his moll (LOL at Sara as a moll, or have Sara as the gangster and Danny as her lieutenant/enforcer/arm candy), undercover as “they think we’re fucking, better fake it real good for the people listening in, oops shit got real fast, careful don’t say each other’s real name or you’ll blow your cover.”

-More timey-wimey shenanigans with the Witchblade. Maybe it allows Sara to manipulate time more than once. Maybe she starts doing it way too often, throwing the continuum out of whack (something non-linear would be very interesting). Maybe she and/or Danny remember some or all of what happened in S1. Something about all the multiverse versions of them, possibly splitting off from a dramatic moment. Time loops and feelings are a combustible mix.

-Apart from the super obvious shippiness, what I like about S1 especially is how Sara rolls with the weirdness the Witchblade has brought into her life, instead of reaching for rational explanations. More of that (I can't think of a better way to put it), and double extra brownie points if alive!Danny figures out at least some of what's going on with Sara's bracelet and somehow gets in on the action. Maybe a Danny saves the day divergence? Or how about a loophole that allows a man close to the Witchblade's wearer to wield it temporarily, but There Is a Price to Pay.

킹덤 Kingdom (Netflix)

Prince Lee Chang/Seo-bi

I fell so hard for this show. So hard! The beautiful production values, the wonderful cast, how the characters develop, how the show slowly but surely unfolds one reveal after another and packs so much into two short seasons, all the period detail, the genuinely tense action scenes, the moments of humor and intense emotion, the intertwining of political intrigue and zomg! really scary zombies, how the zombie outbreak works on multiple levels both literal and metaphorical…

I love the brave, kind-hearted, but sheltered prince, whose whole life has been so privileged yet shadowed by the possibility of death if he loses his position as heir, learning what it means to actually rule and lead people, to protect them and be protected by them in turn. And I love Seo-bi the fearless, dedicated, selfless physician, who notices things and figures things out regardless of whether this annoys the people in power. I love how instantly and fiercely loyal she is to him (not just because he’s the crown prince, but because she’s seen how brave and altruistic he can be) and how he immediately takes her advice and experience seriously despite her being a woman and a commoner in this super-hierarchical setting. Also, I love most of the cast (not a huge fan of Chancellor Cho, but he is an effective antagonist), and would be delighted to see any of them in fic too. Especially the loyal and funny and badass Mu-yeong (he was loyal, despite the Haewon Cho clan’s blackmail, and if you want to diverge from canon so he lives, I would not mind that at all), the even more badass and wounded and snarky Yeong-sin (or is that “Yeong-sin”???), Chang’s sparky, exiled uncle several times removed, and the terrifying and frankly unhinged young queen are my favorites. I even have a soft spot for that mostly-useless coward Cho Beom-pal, but really, they’re all great and I would love reading about them too, or just about the prince and the lady physician – whatever works!

Finally, before I get to prompts, I know a bit about the Joseon period, but we’re talking the bits and pieces I remember from a college class, and what I’ve read on Wikipedia and picked up from this and other Korean movies and shows. I know a bit more about some of the cultural background, like the Confucian values, the social stratification and feudal system, the gender segregation among the aristocracy, the wars with Japan, but again – my knowledge is limited. So if you want to teach me stuff about Joseon, go for it! If you want to invent or handwave stuff, as long as it fits the canon’s mood and broad cultural parameters, go for it! And if you want to treat me to some worldbuilding, period detail of any kind, and/or costume porn, definitely go for it. Canon-specific DNW: anything above M rating for sex (violence is fine).

Prompts:

Zombie fighting anything! Learning to survive in a society that’s rapidly breaking down, having to transcend their habitual social roles and challenging each other, anything! Maybe one of them teaches the other to hunt, or to make herbal medicines, or to fight with a sword, or heck, to cook or clean dirty clothes. (FYI I wrote most of these prompts before I was quite done with S2, and the time-skip took me totally by surprise. So while my prompts ignore Chang renouncing the throne, I’d also be down for the untold adventures of the former prince and his traveling companions, as Chang learns how to be just regular folks and they pursue clues about the resurrection flower, or for your take on what happens in S3. Use whatever works for you in my prompts in any way you want!)

Figuring out how the zombie infection continues to evolve and/or working together to find a cure beyond dunking the infected in water – whether that means to destroy large numbers of the undead, or to develop an antidote, or to cure and bring back those afflicted. One plot detail that really struck me: more experimenting with zombies, like Chancellor Cho started to do, might also hold the key to a cure?

Political intrigue anything! Having to fight zombies and/or factions at court with both friends and unexpected allies (not gonna lie, I would have loved to have seen the young queen unleashed on some zombies, even if that did not make her the prince and Seo-bi’s ally).

More road trip/survival/battle goodness – maybe Seo-bi offers Lee Chang some advice while they’re navigating their new situation, or she witnesses him developing his leadership muscles, and it brings them closer together than before. Or maybe a moment of humor, relaxation, or quiet affection on the road or in between zombie-slaying, especially if it catches them both a bit by surprise. Or one of them gets a non-zombifying injury (nothing too gruesome or life-threatening, please!) and the other one has to care for them – extra points if Seo-bi is injured and the prince kind of bumbles through the most basic things so she has to talk him through her own treatment. Or nightmares/being triggered by something, like we saw both Chang and Seo-bi react at the sounds of zombies growling and people screaming in S2E5.

We have seen Seo-bi insist on staying loyal to the prince, and Lee Chang rely on her repeatedly to the exclusion of all his other people – give me a situation in which he has to make clear his own loyalty to her, as a part of both his becoming a better leader and as a step in advancing their relationship. Or, there comes a time when Seo-bi really pushes against the rules of what someone like she can and cannot say or do to/around a crown prince – we’ve seen Lee Chang refuse to stand on his dignity to the point where so many of his interactions with commoners would end in the commoners’ death, but I imagine even he has his limits, and that kind of clash can only drive this dynamic forward!

Canon divergence in which Seo-bi gets sent to the capital and assigned to be the personal physician to the petulant, frustrated prince we meet at the start of the show (handwave the gender segregation and impropriety). She knows her place, but she also does not suffer fools or male nonsense. Sparks fly, social conventions get tested, zombies may or may not happen, and a new mutual understanding is born.

Canon divergence from the scene in S2E2 when Seo-bi finagles her way to being allowed to see the prince and he instructs her to resurrect Ahn Hyeon – what if instead of that, they came up with another plan of escape? Or maybe Lee Chang sending Seo-bi to spy on the queen goes a different way than in canon? And really, anything that requires those two to pass secret messages while grabbing each other’s hands and staring intently into each other’s eyes is A++ with me!

One theme which emerges gradually, and I really loved, is people having to compromise their principles to survive and ensure the safety of those they feel loyal and/or obliged to: Ahn Hyeon agreeing to turn the sick villagers into zombies, dear Mu-yeong having been a spy but also protecting the prince all along, Seo-bi resurrecting Ahn Hyeon, Lee Chang instructing her to do it as well as his thousand-yard-stare after having to finish off what’s left of his father… I’d love to see more such compromises, how their consequences ripple out, and the emotional fallout.

In addition to zombies, other magical and/or supernatural events and creatures start to appear in Joseon. If you want to bring in something from Buddhist mythology or Korean folklore, please do, and any and all worldbuilding would be awesome.

Post-canon something in which Lee Chang is king, possibly of only a part of the country (maybe a zombie-free enclave, or a part he won in a civil war against the Cho clan or a cadet branch of his family), and Seo-bi is there as his advisor, physician, and unofficial chancellor. Gimme policymaking to deal with the lingering zombie issue, and assassination plots, and servants/guards/ladies in waiting gossiping like it’s their real job, and all the palace intrigue!

Kind of related to the previous: even as a “spare” prince, Lee Chang can’t marry a commoner. Would he ever think to offer Seo-bi to become his concubine? I don’t think she’d go for it, and he might realize it, but maybe I’m wrong! Or maybe being intensely platonic/sublimating at each other is as good as it gets for them, and they’re kind of okay with that. Or they get married in secret and have to be very careful not to let slip anything by word on gesture in public, or not to let Seo-bi get pregnant. Or, y’know, one day or night on the road or in a fortified town, in between scavenging for supplies and fighting zombies, they decide to bone just because their lives are weird enough now to forget about propriety and all that jazz for an hour.

Role reversal: Seo-bi is the sheltered, willful princess fearful for her position (especially since she’s a woman as well as the daughter of a concubine only) and Lee Chang is the proper yet willful provincial physician. Do they meet as in canon, or under different circumstances (maybe she must flee the court to escape assassins, accusations of treason, or an arranged marriage, with or without bonus zombies)? How would their dynamic be complicated (and made awesome of course!) by the gender reversal? Also, burning question: does Princess Seo-bi already know how to fight (because she forced Mu-yeong to teach her back at court, of course), or does she have to learn once zombies/brigands/insurrection/whatever happen? And does Physician Lee Chang know one end of a musket or sword from another, or does he need rescuing at some point?

I realize that some of these prompts could work as well (better?) as a no-zombies AU, and that’s fine if you want to take it in that direction. Just so we’re clear. :-)

Likes:

I love pre-canon, canon, post-canon, canon-divergent, and missing-scene stories. I love character-driven and plot-driven stories equally, and I love fics which mix humor and angst/serious business when appropriate for the canon.

I love stories about characters at work and play, group dynamics, family dynamics (including constructed families), professional partnerships, friendships, alliances, rivalries, intimate couples (new lovers/first times as well as long-term/established couples), UST-ridden couples who are not just UST-ridden but connected in other ways too, etc.

I love irony, snark, humor as well as angst arising from the characters rather than the plot crowbaring it in, linear, non-linear, and 5+1 stories, hopeful endings, happy endings, bittersweet endings, worldbuilding, competence, spiky characters who keep their jagged edges and spikiness in adversity as well as when their lives are going well, square-peg-in-round-hole characters, characters who are their own worst enemies as well as those who can get over themselves when the occasion calls for it, characters with conflicting values which may or may not be reconciled/resolved, characters who treat each other with respect and as equals even if they hate/annoy/can’t stand/love to dislike each other.

I especially love workplace stories (this can mean anything from an actual workplace/casefic/procedural setting to anything that revolves around the canon world in which the characters live) in which the characters are competent and dedicated to the job, and while they may not be exactly friends and they may well irritate one another, they still manage to rub along to get the job done and maybe even grow to care about one another (much to their surprise and sometimes reluctance/discomfort). Or, if they can’t get along, show me why not and what’s preventing them from finding common ground.

In terms of ship dynamics, I love (where it fits the characters) banter, competitiveness or antagonism shading into attraction (this tension need not be resolved), oh-god-why-did-it-have-to-be-you-what-did-I-do-to-deserve-this, bickering yet loving couples, characters who are serious about their romantic interests, characters who think they are much better at flirtation than they actually are, characters forced to work together only to prove much more compatible than they initially assumed, fics which mix an exploration of characters’ professional and everyday lives with shipping. A dynamic I cannot resist is shipping a couple who are incompatible in some important way (they are ideological enemies, cop and criminal, spies from opposite sides, one betrayed the other or they betrayed each other), and while they love and want each other they’re also not willing to change sides or surrender/compromise their identity for the other’s benefit, and how they might (or not) make their relationship work anyway.

I don’t have any very specific likes for smut, other than smut fitting the characters – show me how their canon dynamics spill over into the bedroom (or other place of congress). I also like sexual scenarios that subvert expectations a little and surprise the characters themselves (e.g., the person who’s usually quiet or more passive taking charge, the more aggressive person goes with it possibly snarking or commenting on it as long as they can). And I like sexual scenarios that contain an element of competition, antagonism, oh-god-this-is-a-bad-idea-but-we’re-going-for-it-hammer-and-tongs, not wanting to admit feelings or show vulnerability except oops it happens anyway, whether the characters acknowledge it or not, or just people getting way more into it or being more affected by it than they thought they would. When it fits the characters and their canon dynamic, you also can’t go wrong with we-both-wanted-this-for-forever-and-now-we-both-know-it-so-here-we-go-diving-in-headfirst. For het and/or slash, oral, vaginal, anal incl. pegging, manual (ifyouknowwhatImean) – it’s all good. You can go as veiled or as explicit as you like, but please avoid excessive medical jargon – I don’t find a lot of mention of “penis” or “clit” sexy.

 DNWs:

MPREG, A/B/O, knotting, D/s, kinks, incest, underage, genderswap/genderbent characters, xeno, non-/dub-con, torture and abuse (this and non-/dub-con can be mentioned if the story needs it, but please don’t dwell on it in loving detail or subject any of my requested characters to it), dwelling on bodily fluids (mentions of gore/blood and come are fine), toilet humor, character bashing, issuefic, gender/sexuality/race/ethnicity/religion/ability/identity headcanons, unrequested ships, soulmates and soul marks, major character death (meaning my requested characters being or staying dead by story’s end - Laura Moon can remain undead), serious illness or injury, pregnancy and children, holiday or wedding setting/theme, secondary characters shipping the main pair like it’s their job, reference to RL current events, 1st/2nd person POV, unrequested crossovers or fusions, AUs which have nothing to do with canon

[allthatiamallthatieverwas]

Today I did something that scared me. I sat down with my doctor and admitted that things aren’t as okay as I’ve been making them out to be, and that I need extra help. It was uncomfortable, and draining, but hopefully the start of some healing in that regard.

Anyway, I was feeling my outfit today and there were cute plants so insert metaphor about personal growth and planting the seeds of change 🌱 🌱 🌱 here I guess.

Details to follow, I’ll put this behind a cut when I’m on desktop but for now TW!

The concern started in November when I went to a party and a friend commented on how much he thought my weight was down. I don’t own a set of scales in my home for my mental health, and I didn’t think it was (in fact, I thought it was up!) but when I asked my partner he thought I might have lost weight too and encouraged me to go to the doctor to check. Sure enough, when I weighed myself in a clinical setting, it was down by about eight kilos. My doctor was worried. But we determined that over the Christmas period I would try and gain some, maybe muscle, by allowing myself free rein over the holiday treats and eating out with family.

When I went back this morning, very sure that with Christmas and the holidays and overeating it’d be at least a few kilos up, the opposite was true- I’d actually lost a further kilo. Luckily, I’d booked in a long appointment with my doctor to go over the diagnostic tools I’d need to get more help, so I was mentally prepared for everything else I needed to do, but the loss still shocked me. Am I really that out of touch with my own body? Is my dysmorphia that bad?

It was pretty confronting to have to do an EDQ test, I’ve been struggling since late high school and a decade later I learn, for the first time, that there’s a diagnostic tool which would definitely have helped my family realise I was sick sooner. Or accept it, maybe. So that was frustrating. And then the results page comes up in bold with YOU HAVE AN EATING DISORDER. DO NOT IGNORE THIS. To be honest, that just felt a bit like a slap in the face, like “you STILL have an eating disorder even though you thought you were in recovery. PSYCH!!!” All of this is geared towards ensuring that I have filled out all the forms I need to that make me eligible, as a sufferer of EDNOS, for a government subsidised set of mental health sessions and sessions with a dietitian, though, so I know it’s important and something I wouldn’t otherwise be able to afford, but god it felt like scraping off a scab that was almost completely healed to get gravel out, you know? To continue the metaphor, I know that the way I’ve healed so far is good healing, but the gravel is still an infection risk and needs to come out to ensure I heal *better* in the long run.

My doctor also thinks (and I agree) that the government has vastly underestimated the number of ED sufferers who will come out of the woodwork because they’re eligible for the subsidised sessions, so we’re trying to make sure I get in early so I get my sessions, but more than that, by standing up and admitting that I need help, I will be counted and hopefully help reflect that there is a large need for these kinds of services in the community.

I also had a really good conversation with her about my behaviours while we were filling out the quiz, which was really interesting. She’s the first doctor I’ve had that has seen me as a patient with ADD *and* and eating disorder, so she shed some light on some of my exercise habits and how rather than being overcompensatory for my ED, they could be a healthy outlet for my ADD. That helped alleviate a lot of guilt I’m experiencing about knowing my weight is down right now but still desperately wanting to go running regularly now that I know I am physically capable of doing so again. Essentially, she pointed out that while I’ve been doing a really good job at ramping down on my disordered *behaviours*, I am still struggling with a high level of food anxiety and shape/weight anxiety, so the disordered *thoughts* still need work. My logical disputation is going well so instead of thinking “I am fat”, I am able to recognise that “I *have* fat” (which I really think is where a huge thank you is owed to the body positivity movement and fat activists- thank you for helping me unlearn so much of that stigmatising language!), but I still look at my shape and don’t like it, even though I can recognise that as a standard size 8-10, I don’t fall under the overweight category and therefore don’t face those particular challenges. But hating myself and the way I look or parts of my body, even if I don’t hate myself holistically anymore, is still a problem. And it’s one that I’m really, really glad that I opened up today about needing extra help with, even though I feel a bit raw as a result. I deserve to thrive, not just survive, in this body.

[vgckwb]

ML: Are They Worthy? Chapter 16: Face My Fears!/Re: Silencer

Juleka couldn’t believe it. Standing before her was her father. She had not seen him in person since he moved to England after the divorce. She was just talking about him today, and here he was. Was it magic, or just coincidence?

She remembered the conversation she had with Vlad earlier. “Hey, can I talk to you about something?” she asked

Vlad was intrigued. “Sure” he said.

“So, on Alya’s blog, she mentioned that you were gay, and from the way you’re crushing on my brother, that seems true” Juleka said.

“It is” Vlad said.

“How did it go after you told your parents?” she asked.

“Are you worried about what’ll happen if you tell yours?” Vlad asked.

“No” Juleka said. “I’ve already told them. But…”

“But what?” Vlad said.

Juleka sighed. “A month after I told my parents I was a lesbian, my mom came out as a lesbian as well. My dad said that his job was moving to London. They said that everything wasn’t working out between them and that they were getting a divorce. I blame myself.”

“Well that’s crap” Vlad said.

“Huh?” Juleka said.

“Like I told you, that’s crap” Vlad said. “You coming out had nothing to do with that.”

“But what if it did?” Juleka said. “What if I’m to blame for my parents getting a divorce?”

“Look, they're your parents. They would never do anything to hurt you, right?” Vlad said. “Unless, did they?”

“No. Nothing like that” Julkea said, smiling the fastest she smiled after talking about this. The thought of her parents hurting her in any way was ridiculous to her.

“Then I don’t see the problem. If they love you, they wouldn’t blame you” Vlad said. “Every family’s different. Your parents are different. It sounds like they had some problems before.”

“But they didn’t tell us until after” Juleka said. “And they seemed to get along well enough.”

“Look, if you’re really concerned, you should just talk to them about this” Vlad said. “The worst thing you can do is keep it bottled inside. It will destroy you. Trust me on this. The six months it took me to come out to my parents were some of the hardest times for me.”

“But what if they do blame me?” Juleka said.

“That just sounds like ‘but what if they kick me out?’ to me, and you don’t need to worry about that” Vlad said. “You were brave enough to confront them when coming out, and they accepted you. You have to be that brave again. Understand?”

“Yes. Thanks Vlad” Juleka said.

“Anytime” Vlad said.

Now her dad was right in front of her; as if fate that brought him here. No matter the circumstances, Juleka had to be prepared. She had to be brave.

Luka left to get his mom. “Mom,” he said. “Dad’s here.”

Anarka was confused. She went to the deck to see her ex-husband. “Richard?” she said.

“Hi Anarka” he said, nervously.

“We should get going” Marshall said.

“Yeah” said Micha. The brothers and the dance troupe left.

“Ivan, you promised me to take me to Andre’s tonight” Mylene said.

“I did?” Ivan said. He realized what was going on. “I mean, I did. Yes.”

“Marinette, you should leave too” Luka said.

“Are you sure?” Marinette said.

“Yes. We’ll be fine for now. We just need to sort whatever is happening out alone” Luka said.

“OK” Marinette said. “Just call me if you need anything.”

“We should go too” Vlad said. “Adrien, I’ll keep you company on your way home, how does that sound?”

“OK?” said Adrien.

“Great! Let’s get going” Vlad said, dragging his friend off of the ship. He looked back and gave Juleka a thumbs up and a wink, signifying everything will be OK.

“Juleka, are you sure you’re going to be OK on your own?” Rose said.

Juleka looked at Rose. They girl of her dreams. She had always wanted to ask her out, but she never had the courage to. Juleka promised herself that if she could tell her parents how she felt, she would ask Rose out. “Yes. I’ll be fine. Just wait for me at school tomorrow” Juleka said.

“OK” said Rose. She left the ship.

Adrien and Vlad were walking to Adrien’s. “It was nice how you helped Marinette like that” Adrien said.

“Yeah, well, what are friends for?” Vlad said.

“You two have gotten awfully close” Adrien said. “I’m almost jealous.”

“You’ll get your chance” Vlad said.

The two continued walking. “So, why’d you wanna walk home with me?” Adrien said.

Vlad smiled. “Because I’d like to get this over with sooner rather than later.”

“Get what over with?” Adrien said.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet” Vlad said. Beyyo flew out of his pocket. “We had a deal, right?”

Adrien was surprised. “You’re Judgement Wolf?” Vlad nodded. Adrien giggled. “I should have known. That’s such a you name.”

Plagg flew out and confronted Beyyo. “Hello. BEYYO!” he said, menacingly.

Beyyo backed up. “Whatever you want, can’t you tell me farther away?”

Plagg was shocked and offended. “HEY! You can’t speak to me like that after… How many years has it been?”

“It’s been too long and not long enough” Beyyo said, plugging his nose.

“Plagg, maybe you should cut down on your Camembert intake” Adrien said.

“It’s not that” Beyyo said. “You know that I can smell other kwamis? Well Plagg perpetually smells like something rotting. I have long since given up on determining what it is that’s rotting.”

“What are you doing popping up here now?” Plagg asked.

“Well, ever since Hawk Moth first showed up, I’ve been hanging around Paris” Beyyo said. “I’ve tested a few people to see if they were worthy, but none of them were. Then I sensed something on a train. A kindred spirit. Vlad. I tested him, and he passed. He told me he was moving to Paris, and you know the rest.”

“If you were here this whole time, you could have said hi” Plagg said.

“Yeah, but I didn’t have an owner until recently” Beyyo said.

“I guess that’s fair” Plagg said.

“You two seem to know each other well” Adrien said.

“Beyyo tells me he knows all of the kwamis rather well” Vlad said. “He just doesn’t get to see them as often due to their opposing natures.”

“And in Plagg’s case, his smell” Beyyo said.

“You don’t have to be rude about it” Plagg said.

“Wait. This means you know who Ladybug is!” Adrien said, excitedly. “Do you think you can help me with her?”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhhh” Vlad said. He did know who Ladybug was. He also knew that Ladybug had a crush on Adrien. BUT he couldn’t just give that information away. It just didn’t feel right. “Maybe you should just give up on Ladybug. Maybe someone else might be more your speed.”

“What are you hiding?” Adrien said.

“It’s complicated” Vlad said.

“Complicated, or stupid?” Beyyo asked.

“Both” Vlad said.

Adrien sighed. “I’ll figure it out eventually” Adrien said. He started walking again.

“I somehow doubt that” Vlad said, following soon after.

Meanwhile, back on the Liberty, Anarka said “It’s been so long. What brings you back here?”

“Well, my job transferred me back to Paris” Richard said. “So, I’m just back. I wanted to see the kids. And I think we need to have a talk.”

Anarka nodded. “Well, come on in,” she said. Richard stepped onto the Liberty

“Oh, before anything else, kids, I got you something” Richard said. He gave his children each a different signed CD of one of their favorite British artists. “And something else” he said, pulling out an authentic British chocolate bar for each of them.

“Thanks dad” Luka said.

“Thanks” Juleka said.

“Well, it’s getting late” Luka said. “If you and mom need to talk, I should probably just go to bed.”

“Alright son” Richard said. “What about you, sweetie?”

“Well…” Juleka said. “I’m going to go to my room too.” She left.

“Alright. Take care” Richard said. He was alone with his ex-wife. “Sooooooooo. I guess we should just get started.”

“Yes” said Anarka.  The two also went inside the ship.

Vlad and Adrien arrived at Adrien’s. “Well, I gotta get going” Vlad said.

“Hey, why don’t you join me?” Adrien said.

“As much as I’d love to, I gotta test Viperion” Vlad said.

“Oh yeah. Why is that?” Adrien asked.

“I gotta test everyone who wields a miraculous. Not just you and Ladybug” Vlad replied. Otherwise, Beyyo would leave me.”

“And you wouldn’t be holding yourself up to your own standards” Beyyo said.

“That to, but what I said is more dramatic” Vlad said.

Adrien laughed. “You certainly have that dramatic flair. Wanna take all of my modeling work?”

“No way. I’m busy enough as is” Vlad said.

“How do you think I feel?” Adrien asked. The two friends laughed. “Alright, I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah. Seyya ya” Vlad said. “You know, you should be more real at school. Maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

“I’ll keep that in mind” Adrien said. The truth is, he wanted to, but he was afraid his father would get mad at him. He just let him have more freedom. He didn’t want that taken away from him. He figured he’ll ask about it eventually, but for now he’ll take what he can get.

Meanwhile, Vlad pulled out his phone. “Whatcha doin’?” Beyyo asked.

“I’m searching the Ladyblog for any mention of Luka” Vlad answered.

“Good. I was worried you wouldn’t because of your little crush on him” Beyyo said.

“I’m dramatic Beyyo, not an idiot” Vlad said. “Besides, while I like him, I don’t know if he’s boyfriend material. Maybe this’ll help me understand.” Vlad came across a post about Silencer, who was Luka when he was Akumatized. He read it in depth, and he got his idea.

Back on the Liberty, Richard and Anarka were talking. “So, you’re back in Paris” Anarka said.

“Yeah” Richard said. “I just got back today. I wanted to see the kids first thing. It became the third thing after getting everything into my new apartment and eating.”

“I don’t think they’d blame you for that” Anarka said.

Richard smiled. “I was walking up to the ship and I heard a band playing. I could tell immediately that Luka and Juleka were involved.”

“So, what do you want to talk about?” Anarka said.

“Well, since I’m back, I want to see the kids more” Richard said. “I was kind of hoping we could talk about that. What this means, and what might occur.”

“Sounds reasonable” Anarka said. “Do you think we should get our lawyers?”

“Maybe, but I wanna talk about some preliminary stuff before they get involved,” Richard said. “First, I agree that the kids should stay with you. But I still want to get them sometimes.”

“Of course” Anarka said. “I wouldn’t mind talking to you more either.”

“We’ll see about that,” Richard said. “I just hope May is OK with that. And that the kids like her.”

“May?” Anarka asked.

“Sorry. She’s my girlfriend” Richard said. “I met her in London. She’s moving to Paris with me. You’d like her.”

“Hopefully not too much. Otherwise, I might steal her from you” Anarka said.

Richard laughed. “This is what I missed.”

Juleka was staring into the room her parents were in. She knew she had to confront them. Still, she was scared. “Juleka” Luka said. “You alright?”

“Yeah” Juleka said.

Luka put his arms on his sister’s shoulders. “Remember what I said when you came out to them?”

Juleka nodded. “‘You always have me in your corner.’”

“Those words are still true” Luka said. “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to come to me with it.” Luka went off to his room.

Juleka opened the door and faced her parents. They were surprised to see her. “Juleka” Anarka said.

“Is something the matter sweetie?” Richard asked.

Juleka focused. She took a breath, and faced her fears head on. “Mom. Dad. Am I the reason you got divorced?”

The two parents looked at each other. “Of course not” Richard said.

“What makes you say that?” Anarka said.

“It’s just… a month after I came out, you came out, and you said you were moving to England” Juleka said. “I know it sounds crazy, and I know that this was for the best, but I keep thinking that none of this might have happened if I hadn’t come out at all.” She started to tear up.

The parents looked at each other again and nodded. They then went over to their daughter and gave her a hug. “Of course it wasn’t your fault sweetie” Richard said.

“We’re sorry that we made you think that” Anarka said. “Truth be told, I came out to your father a week before you told us.”

“And I heard that my job was moving to London around that same time,” Richard said. “We had already made the decision to separate.”

“We didn’t want to upset you right away, so we held out as long as we could” Anarka said.

“We had no idea you felt like this,” Richard said. “And we’re sorry.”

“It’s going to be OK” Anarka said. Juleka started bawling in her parent's arms. She was happy that she didn’t cause her parents to divorce, and sad because she spent all of this time blaming herself. She let it all out. Her parents kept holding onto her to reassure her that everything was OK.

Meanwhile, Judgement Wolf snuck aboard the Liberty and made his way to Luka’s room. Luka was asleep. Judgement Wolf remarked on Luka sleeping “He’s so cute, even when he’s sleeping. Alright. I gotta focus. Wolf Mist!” he called out.

Luka was in the TVi studio. He was Silencer. He had Ladybug and Cat Noir’s Miraculous, and had gotten Bob Roth to confess to his theft. He looked around and saw Marinette. “Marinette. It’s OK” Silencer said. “I got Bob Roth to confess. Nothing can stop me now. We got exactly what we wanted.”

“I never wanted any of this” Marinette said, frightened. She ran away.

Silencer looked on. “Wait! Marinette!”

Luke then woke up. He sighed a sigh of relief. He was just dreaming. Ever since Silencer, this was his recurring nightmare. However, he felt something in his hand. He pulled it out over the sheets and found a box. It looked like the box his miraculous was in “Sass?” he said, opening it. Out popped a red kwami with black spots. “You’re not Sass.”

The kwami shook her head. “My name is Tikki. I’m Ladybug’s kwami.” Luka then cowered at the corner of his bed. He remembered now. Silencer did win. But as soon as Hawk Moth showed up, he lost Ladybug’s miraculous. Hawk Moth took away his powers until the miraculous was found. He then realized everything he did and got frustrated with himself. He found Ladybug’s miraculous and decided to take it home with him. He’d figure it out in the morning.

“What-What have I done?” Luka said to himself.

“Calm down Luka” TIkki said to him. “You still have the chance to make this right. Just return me to Ladybug, and she can fix everything.”

“You’re right” Luka said, calming down.

“Or better yet, we can give the miraculous to Hawk Moth and gain our power back” a voice said in Mr. XY’s voice. Luka and Tikki then looked and saw Silencer.

“Please tell me you see this too” Luka said.

“Yeah” said Tikki.

“Come on. Let’s just go pay Hawk Moth a visit” Silencer said. “After all, what makes you think I could use the miraculous anymore?” he said in Ladybug’s voice.

Luka grabbed the box and started running. When he was in the street, Tikki asked “Um, where are you running too?”

“I don’t know. Away from there though” Luka said.

“Silly Luka” Silencer said, gaining on him. He then switched it up to Roger’s voice. “Do you actually think you can escape me? After all,” he switched to Cat Noir’s voice “I am you.” Silencer was now in front of Luka.

“You’re not me,” Luka said.

“Oh, but I am” Silencer said in Mayor Bourgeois’s voice. “And soon, I will be all that is left of you.” He threw a punch, but Luka dodged and ran the other way

“Tikki! What do I do?” Luka said.

“You can’t keep up with Silencer at this pace. You have to transform using the ladybug miraculous” Tikki said.

Luka thought about it for a minute. “I can’t” he said.

“Why not?” Tikki asked.

“Because I made this mess by becoming Silencer. I’m not worthy of Ladybug’s Miraculous. She’s perfect” Luka said.

Tikki shook her head. “Believe me. I work with Ladybug all the time, and she’s not perfect” Tikki said. “She’s just a regular person like you. And like you, she makes mistakes.”

“Really?” Luka said.

“Yes” Tikki replied. “But she fixes her mistakes. You have the chance to do the same.”

Luka looked at the kwami. “Time’s up” Silencer said.

Luka quickly put the earrings on. “What’s the phrase?” he asked.

“Tikki! Spots On!” TIkki said.

“Tikki! Spots On!” Luka said. He transformed into a male Ladybug.

Silencer switched to Ladybug’s voice. “You think you can defeat me now? Pathetic.”

Luka then took out his yo-yo and called out “Lucky Charm!” He received a mirror.

“You want to defeat me with a mirror? The real Ladybug couldn’t defeat me with a vacuum!” Silencer said.

Luka looked into the mirror. “I don’t need to defeat you,” he said.

“What?!” Silencer said in XY’s voice.

“You’re right. I am you. And you are me” Luka said. “But there's a difference between us.” He started walking forward. “You’re only a part of me. The part I hate about myself. My anger and frustration. My cowardice and fear. But you’re not all of me. You’re not my joy. My calm. My fighting spirit. My love. You’re none of those. I have to accept that you’ll always be a part of me. You’ll never go away. However, you’re nothing without me.” Luka then walked into Silencer and Silencer disappeared into Luka. Luka threw the mirror up and called out “MIraculous Ladybug!” The Ladybugs fixed all of the damage that Silencer caused. Luka then used the yo-yo to travel across town.

Luka, back in his civilian attire, knocked on a door. A figure bathed in white answered. “Luka?” she said.

“Hi Ladybug” Luka said. “I believe this belongs to you.” He handed her the box containing her miraculous.

Ladybug took it. “Thanks. I was wondering where those ladybugs came from that gave me back my voice.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get back Cat Noir’s miraculous” Luka said. “And that I caused this mess in the first place.”

“It’s alright” Ladybug said. “You’ve clearly learned from your mistakes. That’s what counts.”

“Thanks Ladybug” Luka said. The world around him then disappeared before him, leaving a white area surrounding Luka.

“I expected no less” Judgement Wolf said.

Luka was surprised. “So, this is how you test people?” Luka said.

“Yup” Judgement Wolf said. “And you passed.”

“Hm. By the way, thanks for helping out earlier” Luka said.

“You’re welcome” Judgement Wolf said, nervously. “Well, my work here is done. Goodnight.” Judgement Wolf jumped out of the Wolf Mist and Luka fell back asleep.

Luka woke up the next morning and got out of bed. He saw his sister looking more cheerful than ever. “Morning Juleka” he said.

“Morning Luka” Juleka said. “You look well.”

“So do you” Luka said.

After breakfast, the two of them headed off for school. They passed by a flower shop, and Juleka stopped and looked inside. “You go on ahead Luka, I’ll catch up later” Juleka said.

At school, Rose was talking Alix and Marinette when she heard “Rose!” She turned around and saw Juleka holding a bunch of pink roses.

Rose walked over to Juleka, Juleka handed her the flowers. Inside the bouquet, there was a note. Rose took the note out and read it. “‘Will you go out with me?’”

“I know you have a thing for Prince Ali,” Juleka said, “and I know I can’t compare., but ever since the first time I laid eyes on you, I can’t stop thinking about you. I’ve always wanted to say this, but I never had the courage before.”

“What are you talking about?” Rose said, hugging Juleka. “Of course I’ll go out with you! I mean, Prince Ali is great, but you’re my everyday Prince Ali. You’re kind, caring, sweet. You’re everything I ever wanted.”  The two girls looked into each other’s eyes and gave each other a kiss.

“How romantic!” Marinette said, tears welling up in her eye.

“I know someone who could learn a thing or two from Juleka” Alix said, looking at Marinette. Marinette blushed.

“Isn’t love amazing?” Adrien asked, looking on.

“I had a feeling this would all work out” Vlad said. “Oh by the way, don’t you call Marinette your ‘everyday Ladybug’?”

“What are you getting at?” Adrien asked.

“I’m just saying, if it works for Rose, maybe you should try it” Vlad said.

Adrien looked over at Marinette. “Maybe” he said.

Luka looked on as his sister was kissing the girl of her dreams. He smiled, knowing that she faced her own inner demons last night as well. They both came out the other side better.

[rogerbriden]

Dreamscape P2

Part 1 

Part 3

“-I don’t care- I don’t want to hear about anything else. I don’t WANT another treatment plan. Just put it all back to the way it was before!”

“I know- they know Walker-” Mara had been on the receiving end of most of the yelling, but she knew that Walker hadn’t meant to do it. He was just worried.

Roger had shaken out of his trance like state only to trigger an episode of paralysis and fall back asleep. They examined him from there, finding nothing wrong with him. He seemed fine now after coming to, and had been taken to one of the recovery rooms.

“We’ll just stop the extra medication. It’s probably causing a bad reaction- but really Walker, on the whole, he’s improved so much since we started- don’t you think it’s a little-”

Walker cut her off before she could continue. “Is whatever the hell’s going on with him worth getting better? I’d rather have him the way he was- HAPPY- he-he-he was, doing normal things and acting just FINE before-” His face was burning. Deep down he knew Mara was right. He was keeping Roger stagnant. Nothing he had been doing was helping anymore. And now he was trying to put it back that way.

How could he do such a thing?

He could. And he would.

“Alright alright- listen one thing at a time, why don’t you go take a walk outside while the others finish up a few more tests ok?” Mara headed towards the door, opening it for him and standing aside.

Walker looked insulted that she’d even suggest such a thing. He wasn’t going anywhere. Roger NEEDED him, especially right now while he was in a very groggy state. “No.”

Mara almost groaned in disappointment. “Walker-”

“You’ll do your tests with me here or you WON’T do them at all.”

“No one’s going to hurt him- but you can’t help if you’re acting like this! Understand?? So please- I’ll make sure everything’s super gentle-” Anything to get him to leave at this point. For now anyways.

Walker remained absolutely rooted into his place, and would have stayed that way, had the captain not intervened then.

He poked his head through the open doorway and looked down at Mara. Then back up at Walker before motioning for him to come over.

“Whatever it is you want can wait-”

Yaedra scowled for a second. One second. Then marched inside, grabbing Walker by the collar and pulling him onto his feet from his seat beside the bed. “WAIT-”

He would do no such thing. Mara gave a glance of thanks as the shorter of them dragged the botanist into the hallway forcefully.

“STOP IT, LET GO-” Walker finally broke free when they were in the next hallway.

Yaedra hissed at him. “You are acting like a fool. Calm down and stop this childish behavior.”

“OH, oh yes call me a child for being WORRIED.” Walker spat back at silence. “No one else gives a damn about what happens to that boy- only me. ONLY ME. And I’ll not have him treated like their lab slank or whatever the hell else!”

The captain sighed in frustration. Even he could not deny the situation looked very bad. But, so did many other things. They would work through this like all the others and sooner or later everything would return back to normal. They would have worried for absolutely nothing.

Walker in the meantime, paced back and forth like a caged dagun, occasionally pulling at his ears or wringing his hands, anything at this point.

“It’s not like I DON’T want him to get better-” He started, looking for no response in particular. Or maybe he was. “I do- BUT- but that medication or- or whatever electro- or...OR WHATEVER- WHATEVER THEY HAVE, ISN’T THE ANSWER!!” Yaedra stared at him as though he had gone mad. “Then what is??” He asked.

“What I was doing before- albeit slow I admit- was working out just FINE for him!! It’s what he NEEDED- Roger just needs someone who UNDERSTANDS is all- and none of them do in there! I don’t even think Mara does- DID SHE EVER?” “Now you’re being completely ridiculous-” “AND YOU!! YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND EITHER! YOU DON’T EVEN TRY!! YOU JUST KEEP TRYING TO TELL ME WHAT’S WHAT! LIKE YOU KNOW BETTER THAN I, ABOUT HOW TO TAKE CARE OF HIM!” Walker grew bold enough to confront Yaedra then, walking straight at him and pointing at him accusingly. The captain didn’t move, and stood his ground, but he did lean back slightly. Enough for the botanist to pick up on it and move in even closer. “And here you are TELLING ME to CALM DOWN?? YOU DON’T KNOW EVERYTHING’S GOING TO BE ALL RIGHT! -YOU- DON’T KNOW! -I- DON’T KNOW!”

Yaedra narrowed his eyes, nostrils flaring, fists clenched. But he said nothing else after that.

Walker huffed in annoyance and anger and turned away, continuing to pace in a boiling silence. Down the hall he could see a doctor and another assistant trailing behind him before they broke off and left him by himself. Walker didn’t recognize him. He must have been new.

He was coming this way.

He stood up straighter to make himself look taller, more imposing. He was NOT coming anywhere NEAR Roger’s room. Yaedra picked up on it and looked up from his place in the hall, raising one would-be-brow.

The man WAS heading for Roger’s room after all- Walker made a noise of disbelief and quickly intercepted him before he could get any closer. “I don’t know you- who are you? Are you new here?” Like hell was he letting some newbie around the boy.

The man stopped and looked up at him, half lidded and exhausted gaze. All humans around here looked like that around here. This one was no different. He was young, though, dark hair cut short and neat- with a stupid strip of neon pink at the front- that was weird… Other than that, he looked extremely professional. Shoes shined, lab coat pressed… one could ask for no better (or maybe they could.) He had a datacron with him. “You’re Walker, correct?” “Yes.”

“I thought as much. Dr. McPhearson said you’d likely be here with the patient.” Great, Walker thought, just what they needed around here, another sterile doctor with horrible bedside manner. Just perfect. Did Neil sent him here just to torment him one last time?? He thought that old fool retired already.

“I’m Doctor Charmfield,” The man held out a hand amicably, though his face showed no such quality. Just a dead-in-the-eyes look coupled with endless exhaustion. No fire, no passion in those dark eyes. “We’ll be conducting a brief series of tests today on your charge. If everything checks out all right then you can go home.” “And if it DOESN’T??” Walker threatened.

“I’m not worried about that right now. I’ll be worried about it if we get there.” He wasn’t intimidated even remotely. “Now then, rest assured, he’s in good hands. I need you to wait out here.” Mara must have told him about how upset Walker was. He wouldn’t be saying that otherwise.

That just made him angrier. But he kept a lid on it. “If you so much as pluck a single hair-” “Not necessary. I will need a blood sample and to take a few readings. Otherwise, nothing terribly invasive. We’ll be done within the hour. If you would, please have a seat in the lobby.” Charmfield glanced at Yaedra briefly but said nothing, before moving on to the recovery room, closing the door behind him.

Walker felt like he was going to explode. Luckily, it fizzled out before it could.

Yaedra frowned, shaking his head and coming over to the botanist and taking his hand gently this time. They walked back to the lobby from there and sat down.

And they anxiously waited.

Walker hadn’t even realized how exhausted he was. He closed his eyes for only a moment and somehow had drifted off. Only when the piercing sound of the PA system came on did he wake up again, almost rocketing out of his chair. What was going on?? Yaedra also looked alarmed, and unsure as to what was happening.

That gave him a sinking feeling.

“-room twenty one- code blue on room twenty one-” The captain’s facial expression turned from confused to- to-

“What’s going on-” Walker got to his feet and moved over to the hallway only to be greeted by chaos and the disappearing glimpse of someone being rolled away to the back. He would have run poor Mara down had he gone any further (she DID just jump out at him with her arms up trying to block him from going any further.) “Mara what’s going ON-” “G-go back and sit down it’s fine we’re taking care of it-” She looked pale in the face, and she was quivering a little but she was adamant on preventing Walker from going any farther. “He’ll be fine-” She made a slip. “WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE’LL BE FINE WHAT HAPPENED- MOVE-” “WALKER- WALKER! WAIT!-” A blur of green raced past her as soon as Walker pushed her out of his way.

Yaedra was on him in a second, but he underestimated the panicking botanist and immediately got tossed like a frisbee in the other direction. “WALKER!!!-”

She hated having to call security then.

[minijenn]

Universe Falls Chapter 58

Wooooo here we go with The Last Mabelcorn, finally! You can’t imagine how long I’ve wanted to write this chapter and here it finally is for you to read and enjoy! I’m quite proud of it and I honestly don’t have a ton else to say outside of that so I suppose there’s nothing keeping us from diving right in! Let’s get started!

Previous: http://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/177662322439/universe-falls-chapter-57-part-2

Chapter 58: The Last Mabelcorn

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With Dipper and Mabel spending the night up at the temple with Steven and the Gems in light of their ongoing quest to release Malachite, the Mystery Shack was even quieter than it usually was in the deep, dark, dead of night. Though Stan had turned in for the night at a reasonable hour, it had taken Ford much longer to pull himself away from his ongoing research in the basement. By the time the author finally did trudge up to his old room, it was quite late and as a result, he was quite tired. Though he was now thirty years removed from his extensive bout of paranoid insomnia, there were times every now and again when Ford would stubbornly resist the lull of a full night’s sleep out of fear of what might lie in wait in the often unpredictable world of nightmares. This particular, night, however, wasn’t anywhere close to one of those cases, for almost as soon as the author’s head hit the pillow, he was out, fast asleep and promptly thrust into the dreaming state he so often tried to avoid.

Or rather, into what was very soon about to become yet another nightmare, one that seemed to refuse to end even 30 years after it had first begun.

When Ford opened his eyes, he was quite caught off guard to find himself not back in the peaceful darkness of the room he had fallen asleep in, but rather he was standing amidst a vast, arid field of tall, ripe stalks of wheat. This curious expanse seemed to stretch on for miles, only broken by three landmarks afar off in the distance: an aged and broken swing set, a dilapidated, half-rebuilt boat, and the ruined remains of a certain portal looming large and inactive on the horizon. The author took pause as he glanced around his odd, new surroundings, though he didn’t have much of a chance to make sense of them. Completely out of nowhere, the wheat surrounding Ford suddenly began to flatten itself out into a shape that the author knew all too well. A shape that was, of course, accompanied by the maniacal cackling of a demon, a demon Ford had hoped in vain that he’d never encounter again.

“I know that laugh…” the author growled, his hands already curling into tight, defensive fists, just in case. “Show yourself!”

Right on cue, the demon did just that, his triangular form materializing right from the imprint of himself he had made in the wheat as he sharply rose to float right behind Ford, his sinister laughter continuing all the while. “Well, well, well, well, well, well, well!” he quipped brightly, splitting up into several smaller versions of himself as they all cheerfully circled the quite unamused author. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eye! Stanford Filbrick Pines! My old pal! It’s good to finally see ya in the flesh instead of on all those wanted posters I had put out for you during your little stint in the multiverse. Those sure were some fun times, huh, Sixer?”

Ford wisely chose to ignore his longtime foe’s callous taunting, more than used to them by now as he sent the demon a cold, distrustful glare. “Bill Cipher…” he stiffly acknowledged, countless years of ire and hatred dripping into his tone. “What do you want from me? I already told you more than once that I want nothing more to do with you!”

“Oh, quit playing dumb, IQ!” one of the several Bills mocked knowingly. “You knew I’d be back! And boy, have I been busy… Heck, right before I dropped by here, I nearly snagged the deal of a lifetime with some kid you may or may know. But oh well, its not like he can really hold onto that space rock of his for too much longer since its already mine anyway!”

“Kid?” Ford questioned in alarmed confusion, wondering what poor child could have possibly been subjected to Bill’s cruel tricks. “Who did you-”

“Eh, forget it, Sixer, all that business is soooo two chapters ago,” Bill interjected with a flippant wave of his hand as his many doubles all merged back into one. “What I actually stopped by for was to tall you that you must not be that much of a ‘genius’ after all if you think shutting down that portal could really stop what I have planned! Like I said, I’ve been making deals, chatting with old friends, preparing for the big day! You can’t keep that rift safe forever…” With a single snap of his fingers, the interdimensional rift appeared floating above the demon’s palm, its amorphous, glimmering substance still safely contained within its protective globe, though not for long. “You don’t have good ol’ Quartzy around anymore to bail you out this time, Sixer! You’ll slip up sooner or later, and when you do…” As Bill trailed off, he suddenly slammed the rift hard onto the ground, its very breaking violently tearing open a nightmarish hole through the otherwise smoggy skies and igniting the wheat field in a burst of bright crimson fire all around the author. Yet even despite this horrific display, Ford refused to let Bill get the better of him this time; after all, he had already accomplished that more than enough countless times in the past.

“Get out of here!” the author shouted fiercely, wishing he could put an end to the demon’s twisted ambitions right then and there. “You have no dominion in our world!”

“Maybe not right now,” Bill began, his eye turning black as he began to ascend into the chasm of untold horrors and nightmares he wanted to unleash upon the world. “But things change, Stanford Pines! Things CHANGE!”

On this final, ominous proclamation, the demon departed, laughing wickedly all the while as he thoughtlessly left Ford to burn in the field, awash with fear over the dreadful threats he had just heard. Fortunately though, the author wasn’t left to such a terrible fate as he was instead met with quick flashes of three very distinct images: his own six-fingered hand, a set of runes containing various unknown symbols, all of them surrounding a visage of Bill himself, and finally, four bright, vibrant diamonds, one white, one blue, one yellow, and one pink, arranged together and positioned against the backdrop of a distant, foreign planet that seemed to be crumbling apart at the seams.

And on that, the author sharply awoke, his nightmare over. For now, at least.

Even so, Ford bolted upright on the couch that served as his bed, his entire body covered in a cold sweat as he tried to catch his breath amidst his current panic. The fact that Bill Cipher, of all beings, had suddenly shown up in his dreams was concerning enough, but even worse were the frightening implications he had left behind. Before, the author had only ever assumed that the demon would target the rift, but now, there was no doubt whatsoever. Bill wanted that rift and if he got his hands on it, then the entire world, no, the entire universe, would certainly face untold destruction and devastation. He’d be all-powerful, unstoppable, and completely and utterly merciless to anyone who ever dared to try and get in his way. Which was why Ford knew that he had to stop this disaster before it even had a chance to begin. He had to put an end to Bill’s plans before they could come anywhere close to reaching fruition, there simply was no other option. But unlike last time he had made such a bold, dangerous attempt, the author wasn’t about to undertake such a risky venture on his own this time. He had learned his lesson and seen his folly in trying to walk this path alone 30 years ago. And as far as he was concerned, that wasn’t a mistake he was about to make again.

“I have to warn them…” Ford muttered to himself as he finally began to calm down, even though Bill’s haunting warnings still rung in his mind as loudly as ever. “He’s coming…”

A cloud of solemn anxiousness hung over Steven, Dipper, and Mabel alike as they departed from the temple the following morning, their minds still equally focused on worrying thoughts of a certain demon and his malicious intentions, whatever those might be. The Gems had sent them off quite early on, encouraging them to relax for the day and try to find some way to take their thoughts off Bill, even if it was very likely they didn’t intend to do the same themselves.

Still, none of the kids argued with them as they set out for the shack, running into Connie halfway down the hill as she had been going up to meet them. Despite the Gems’ advising them to focus on other things, neither Steven, Dipper, nor Mabel were able to keep themselves from telling Connie all about the events of the previous night, including both Steven’s alarming encounter with Bill in his dreams, as well as their nightmarish confrontation the Gems had with the demon themselves over twenty years ago. Needless to say that after hearing such a disconcerting account, Connie herself was every bit as shaken as the other three kids were to know that Bill was still out there somewhere, still plotting to harm them all, if not worse. Which was why the conversation was still very much focused on the demon, even as the kids made it back down to the shack to try and ‘relax’, even if there was a slim chance such a thing would even end up happening.

“So… even the Gems don’t know how get rid of Bill once and for all?” Connie asked, her voice kept rather low as the four of them wandered down the hall.

“No…” Steven sighed, rubbing his arm apprehensively. “They said the most we can do for now is just make sure we don’t fall for any more of his tricks, but… I don’t know how long that’ll really work for…”

“Probably not too long, seeing as how he’ll lie to just about anyone to get what he wants,” Dipper remarked quite bitterly, clearly quite frustrated with the situation at large. “It’s just… you’d think there’d be some way to keep Bill from messing with us anymore, at least. I mean, how are we supposed to figure out a way to stop him if we can’t even keep him from showing up in our dreams any time he wants?!”

“W-well, even if the Gems don’t know what to do right now, m-maybe they’ll figure something out eventually,” Mabel assured with a weak smile, hoping to, if nothing else, reassure her clearly on-edge brother about the concerning situation. “For now though, we should probably just drop the whole Bill thing and relax like they told us to.” Her smile widened somewhat as she pulled open a nearby closet door. “Why don’t we see if Grunkle Stan has any decent board games lyin’ around here? Huh? Huh? Come on, you three, don’t hold out on me. Steven, I know you’re always up for a good round of Latzee.”

Steven, Dipper, and Connie all briefly exchanged tentative glances at this, all three of them still rather worried about the situation with Bill, but even so, they knew there wasn’t really much that could be done about it now. Wasting their thoughts and energy on it at the moment wouldn’t really produce anything but more dread and woe, things that the kids largely wanted to be free of after the harrowing night they just had. Which was why Steven was the first to perk up somewhat, stepping forward into the closet to take a look at what the stack of old games before them had to offer.

“Hm, let’s see here… ‘Battlechutes & Ladderships’, ‘Necronomiconopoly’, ‘Don’t Wake Stalin’…”

“Oh, what’s this one?” Connie grabbed an interesting-looking jungle themed box from the pile. “‘What Could Go Wrong? The Board Game. The last players who opened this box never made it out alive!’”

A beat of silence passed between the kids at this, but even so, they were all quick to reach largely the same conclusion.

“Well, I know what we’re doing today!”

��Yeah, this should take up the next half hour or so.”

“Sounds like fun!”

“Can’t be too bad, right?”

However, before the kids could even leave the closet to set the game up to play, their plans were instantly dashed as they heard Ford’s stark, urgent call coming from the kitchen. “Family meeting! Family meeting!”

Needless to say all four of the kids were somewhat surprised to hear Ford of all people, call for a so-called ‘family meeting’. But even so they were quite curious to hear what apparently serious demand was all about, which was why they put the game aside to hurry off to hear whatever it was the author had to say.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to any of the kids, Amethyst had hurried down from the temple to the shack herself, surprisingly not because of anything remotely pertaining to what happened last night, but rather to make good on her promise to help Stan with a certain, rather illegal smuggling deal. “Alright, Santiago,” the conman remarked gruffly to the Spanish man him and Amethyst were passing off a sizable truckload of young pugs off to. “You have 24 hours to get these pugs over the U.S border.”

“And you better not… you know, no lo jodas this time either!” Amethyst snapped with a knowing scowl. “O de lo contrario lo vas a conseguir!”

“Yeah, what she said,” Stan remarked, though he did raise his eyebrow somewhat over the purple Gem’s rather crude use of language. However, before the exchange could properly end, Ford’s call for a family meeting rung out from inside the shack, startling the trio and cutting their illegal operation short as Stan swiftly shoved the last barrel of pugs into the back of Santiago’s truck before shoving him off.

“No te preocupas!” Stan shouted urgently as Amethyst kept a close lookout so they wouldn’t get caught as the truck sped off. “Vamos! Vamos!”

With Stan and Amethyst as busy avoiding the law as they were, it wasn’t surprising that they decided to avoid Ford’s meeting, though the kids were right on time to it, venturing into the kitchen just as the author was finishing setting up his copious array of scrolls, notes, and books. “Ah, children,” he greeted tersely, only briefly glancing over his shoulder as they arrived. “Come in, come in! Do any of you know if any of the Gems can make it down here within the next… minute or so? This is a very important discussion that I doubt they’ll want to miss out on.”

“Uh, w-well, actually… the Gems are kind of… busy today,” Steven replied, knowing this was both a truth and a lie in that, as far as they knew, they were still up at the temple, thinking about what to do to stop Bill. “We sort of had a… rough night last night…”

“Hm, you’re not the only ones…” Ford muttered to himself as he glanced away. “All the same, I suppose we can always pass this warning off to them sometime later.”

“Warning?” Connie spoke up with a worried frown. “What warning?”

“Does it have anything to do with these mysterious scrolls and potions?” Mabel asked curiously as she began rummaging through the author’s possessions. “Are you going to tell us we’re finally of age to go to wizard school? Is there an owl in this bag?!”

“No,” Ford interjected, quickly taking his bag away from her as his manner seemed to grow even more serious than it already was. “I can assure you that if there is an owl in this bag, then he’s long dead. Now, what I have called you children here for today is by far more pressing and urgent. Do any of you recognize this symbol?” At this, the author held up a weathered old scroll, one covered in ancient script and arcane text, though the triangular being emblazoned, large and dark and menacing on its center was one that all four of the kids knew the instant they saw it.

A round of frightened gasps escaped all four of the kids at the same exact time, each of them feeling as though they had been thrust right back into that horrific puppet show weeks ago. Connie quickly tore her gaze away from the scroll, as if simply looking at it would somehow summon the demon forth from it. Steven choked out another smaller gasp, one hand against his heart as it hammered away in his chest while his other was pressed close to his stomach, or rather his gem, protectively. Mabel latched a hand down onto her brother’s shoulder so fast that it normally would have startled him but instead Dipper only stared, his face pale and his eyes wide as he barely managed to even get the demon’s name out in so much as a weak, frightened whisper. “B-Bill…”

Ford flinched, quite taken aback by the kids’ initial reaction alone as he looked back to the scroll with growing alarm. “You… you know him?”

None of the kids offered an immediate answer save for Connie, who only gave one in the form of a small, anxious, silent nod. As for the other three, Steven tightened his grip around his gemstone, the vicious threats the demon had issues against him just a few hours prior ringing in his head as loudly as ever before. At the same time, Mabel’s focus remained on Dipper as she prepared to offer him whatever comfort and support he might need but in light of both his growing distress and his growing frustration he was hard pressed to accept any such sentiments now.

“I-it just won’t end, will it?” Dipper began, his tone quiet yet harsh as he shook his head incredulously. “First there was what happened last night with the Gems, and now this? Why won’t he just quit already?!”

“Dipper-” Mabel attempted to interject, though her brother was far too upset to back down now, especially as he got up to pace around frenetically.

“I was right last night after all,” Dipper continued, angry and anxiously as he largely talked to himself, even as the others all watched him with growing concern. “A-and I was right even before that! This isn’t over! Heck, maybe it never will be! He’ll just keep showing up and messing with us and lying to us and forcing us to play his games and there’s no way to stop him or get rid of him a-and it’ll just keep happening over and over again until he-”

“Dipper!” He finally cut himself off with a sharp gasp, stopping in his tracks under the weight of Ford’s firm, steadying hand on his shoulder. The author’s expression was initially fraught with palpable worry and dread, which quickly shifted into untold remorse before finally settling on what almost looked like grave, yet muted fury. “He… he possessed you, didn’t he?”

Dipper flinched at this, quickly averting his uncle’s gaze out of slight fear of how he might react to the truth of the matter. After all, the last thing he wanted was to admit such a momentous failure to the author he practically idolized and looked up to without question; the thought of disappointing him with his own shortcomings alone was enough to bring him more shame than he really knew how to deal with. But even despite his lack of a concrete answer, it was clear to see that Ford had inferred one anyway as he rose to stand, closing his eyes and letting out a long, almost tired sigh, one that gave really no indication of any sort of react at all.

“G-Great Uncle Ford,” Dipper began, his former frustration gone and replaced with obvious nervousness instead. “I… I just-”

“It wasn’t Dipper’s fault!” Steven suddenly interjected, tears already starting to well up in his eyes as everyone turned to look at him. “B-Bill tricked him! H-he lied to him and then he took his body a-and I was there for the whole thing and I wasn’t able to stop it a-and I couldn’t even tell anyone about it ‘cause he said he’d hurt Dipper’s body a-and I was so afraid and confused and we almost didn’t stop him in time but-”

“But we did,” Connie interjected as calmly as she could, taking Steven’s hand reassuringly as Mabel did the same for Dipper. “And that’s what’s important here.”

“So the four of you… ‘defeated’ him…” Ford mused, though his tone conveyed a hint of doubt in this fact. Still, he didn’t voice that doubt as he met all four of the kids’ fretful expressions evenly enough. “Even so, the fact that you kids have dealt with Bill before is gravely serious.”

“So… you know Bill too, Grunkle Ford?” Mabel asked, anxiously curious.

“Too?” the author frowned, confused.

“Uh, well, l-last night the Gems told us about how Bill tricked them before too…” Steven admitted somewhat hesitantly. “Mom even had to fight them to get him out of him. I-it was-”

“Oh yes, I already know about all that,” Ford interupted. “Pearl… told me all about that rather… unfortunate encounter just a few days ago. Honestly, I can’t say I’m even really surprised; it’d only make sense that someone as mad and as power-hungry as Bill would try to target someone as dedicated to protecting the Earth as Rose and the Crystal Gems.”

The kids looked to each other again at this, their expressions all somewhat uncertain but craving to know more about whatever knowledge the author might have concerning the dream demon. “Um, so how exactly do you know Bill, Great Uncle Ford?” Dipper asked rather hesitantly in light of his own lingering regret.

“I’ve encountered many dark beings in my time, Dipper,” Ford replied curtly. “But perhaps none as dark as Bill Cipher. All the same, the specifics aren’t important right now. What matters is that his powers are growing stronger, and if he pulls off his plans, then none of us, not this family, not the Gems, not even Gravity Falls itself will be safe!”

Upon hearing this, none of the kids were able to hold back a unified frightened gasp. In light of their past encounters with the dream demon as well as everything the Gems had recently revealed, it was obvious that Bill was certainly a threat to them all. But to hear this confirmation come from someone as wizened and well-traveled as the author of the journals himself only served to hit that alarming thought home even more. After all, if Bill really was such a severe and present danger to not just them but the town, possibly even the world as a whole, then what hope did any of them possibly have in trying to stop him?

“Fortunately,” Ford continued, as if he had somehow heard the kids’ shared worries and decided to address them. “There should be a way to shield us from his mental tricks. A way to ‘Bill-proof’ the shack and even the Gems’ temple, as it were.”

“R-Really?” Steven asked with a small but growing smile, one that was filled with relief that the other three kids equally shared. “That’s great! How does it work?”

“It’s quite simple, really,” the author began, laying a map of the shack out on the table. “All I have to do is place moonstones here, here, and here, sprinkle some mercury, and… let’s see, I always forget that last ingredient!” Ford frowned as he flipped open journal 1, briefly glancing through his notes before finding what he was looking for. “Ugh, that’s right… unicorn hair…”

“That’s not… rare, is it?” Dipper asked, picking up on the author’s disgruntled tone.

“Its hopeless,” Ford shook his head dismissively as he looked back to the journal. “Unicorns reside deep within an enchanted glade, and their hairs can only be obtained by a pure, good-hearted person who goes on a magical quest to find them. And of course, unicorns themselves are-”

The author’s explanation was abruptly cut off from a loud, shrill, undeniably excited squeal from Mabel, one that tore starkly through the ongoing solemn manner of this meeting. “Grunkle Ford! Can I please go on this quest?!” she asked with a large, eager grin as she hopped out of her seat. “I am literally obsessed with unicorns! My first word was unicorn, I once made my own unicorn by taping a traffic cone to a horse’s head and got banned from the petting zoo for it, are you even looking at the sweater I’m wearing right now?!” She quickly pointed to said sweater, which, fittingly enough, had a colorful design of a unicorn stitched onto it. “Not to mention that I’m probably the most pure of heart person in this room. Well, aside from Steven, that is.” A round of murmured agreements arose from this, no one really dissenting to such a claim given Mabel’s very transparent sense of altruism and helpfulness. “So can I please go on a mission to get that hair?” she continued pleadingly. “Please, please, please?! I’ll give you my blood!”

Despite this concerning vow, Ford simply nodded, albeit a bit hesitantly given the nature of the quest his niece wanted to go on. “Very well,” he consented gruffly. “But it won’t be easy. Take this,” he handed off journal 1 to her, largely since it offered a map pointing to where unicorns were known to dwell. “And this,” he also gave her a fully-loaded crossbow, much to excitement, even as she struggled to properly lift it. “I haven’t been in this dimension in a while. It’s still ok to give children deadly weapons, right?”

“Pssh, come on, dawg,” Mabel remarked with a casual wave of her hand. Of course, she didn’t notice that her other hand had accidentally squeezed the crossbow’s trigger until an arrow fired off through it, crashing through the nearby window and startling a certain pair of partners in crime outside.

“Ah! It’s the cops!” Stan shouted frantically somewhere outside. “Gun it!”

“Soy inocente, ¡lo juro!” Amethyst cried as a truck carrying a heavy load of pugs sped off.” ¡Todo fue idea de Stan!”

“Amethyst! Cut it out with all the Spanish already!”

“Heh, sorry, dude, can’t help it. Its mucho divertido.”

“Um… on second thought, why don’t I go with you, Mabel?” Connie asked after a beat of somewhat awkward silence. “Not that I don’t think you can handle yourself, but maybe having my sword along with that crossbow will make this whole, uh, ‘enchanted quest’ thing go a little easier.”

“Oh my gosh, yes!” Mabel gasped, cheerfully pulling Connie up out of her chair as she spun her around excitedly. “This is gonna be great! Mabel and Connie: Unicorn Hunters Extraordinaire! Ooo, wait! I got another idea! We should turn this unicorn duo into a whole unicorn party!” Without another word, Mabel quickly pulled her phone up and began dialing several numbers at once as she ran out of the room. “Wendy, Candy, Grenda, clear the afternoon!”

“Oh boy…” Connie chuckled as she prepared to follow after Mabel. “This oughta be… interesting.”

“Hm… perhaps you girls should take one of the Gems along with you as well…” Ford mused. “As far as I know, they do have some experience with unicorns so their aid will likely be an asset, and not just in finding them either…”

“Get a Gem to come, got it!” Connie nodded, offering the remaining trio a thumbs up as she headed out herself. “Thanks, Mr. Ford!”

“Yes, yes, try not to come across any packs of marauding ware-fairies while you’re out,” Ford advised, waving both girls off as Steven and Dipper did the same.

“So… what are the odds that they actually get that hair?” Dipper asked Ford, trying to hide his rather palpable concern.

“Unlikely,” the author replied as soon as he was sure the girls were out of earshot. “I’ve dealt with unicorns before and if I had to describe them in one word it would be… frustrating.”

“Aw, but this is Mabel and Connie we’re taking about here,” Steven said with an encouraging smile. “If anyone can get that hair, its them!”

“Well, just in case they don’t,” Dipper countered diffidently. “Is there anything else we could maybe do to stop Bill in the meantime?”

Ford took pause at this question, his expression initially unreadable as he looked between both of the boys sitting in front of him before his focus finally settled on Steven. The young Gem shifted somewhat apprehensively under the author’s scrutinizing stare, one that seemed to almost be searching for something, though he had no idea as to what that something could possibly be. “Um… Mr. Ford? What’s-”

“Steven,” the author interupted, his tone and manner both very serious as he glanced around rather discreetly. “Rose Quar—I mean, your mother, used to be the one person, or Gem rather, that I always felt like I could confide in. I trusted her immensely, and… I’d like to think that I can trust her son as well. So… can I?”

The young Gem was admittedly somewhat taken aback by this, but as he glanced over and met Dipper’s rather expectant expression, he found he was hard pressed to say no. “Y-yeah—I mean, yes,” Steven said with much more resolve, hoping that he could somehow honor the genuine bond that used to exist between the author and his mother even in some small, simple way. “Yes, you can. But, uh, can I ask with what exactly you wanna trust me with?”

Ford cracked something of a small smirk at this, clearly glad to have the young Gem on board. “Dipper, why don’t I let you tell him?”

“Oh, uh, ok,” Dipper nodded, immediately understanding exactly what the author wanted him to reveal. Even still, he hesitated somewhat, remembering the promise he had made to Ford himself to keep silent about it only a few days prior, a promise he devoutly intended to keep even still. And yet, since Ford was the very one telling him to make an exception to that promise right then and there, he decided to relent and do just that, knowing that if there was really anyone who he’d personally trust with such a momentous secret, it would be Steven. “So, Great Uncle Ford took the portal apart, right? But it sorta left this… what was it again?”

“An interdimensional rift,” Ford filled in, his voice low as he took another cursory glance around the room for any sort of prying eyes.

“An interdimensional rift, right,” Dipper said with a bit more confidence, which was something Steven only met with confusion as he tried to follow along. “And that’s bad because it could…?”

“It could tear our reality itself apart,” Ford finished gravely. “Especially if someone like Bill were to get his hands on it. If its power were to be unleashed, then he’d be completely free to wreak untold havoc upon this dimension, destroying everything and everyone in his path.”

“W-whoa…” Steven whispered, his eyes wide as he tried to take such a dark implication in. “And I thought everything the Gems told us last night was bad. B-but this… rift thing sounds like it could be even worse than that was!”

“Indeed it could,” Ford nodded coldly. “And that’s why the three of us have to do everything in our power to protect it from Bill. Including maintaining its secrecy from everyone.”

“Even the Gems?” Steven asked apprehensively. “B-because I-”

“Even the Gems,” the author interupted staunchly, glancing away. “The more people who know about the rift, the more danger it could potentially be put in. I did have some reservations about telling even you, Steven, but… well, I figured I might as well fill you in since I very likely would have done the same for your mother if she were still… around.”

“Oh, uh… gee, thanks…” the young Gem said with a halfhearted smile, the comparison Ford was apparently drawing between him and his mother not lost on him. A comparison that, in light of recent revelations, Steven wasn’t sure he was too comfortable with anymore, even if he knew that it was rather fitting. After all, wasn’t keeping such a potentially earth shattering secret hidden from the Gems the very same sort of thing Rose herself did before him? Still, he knew he couldn’t exactly betray either Ford’s trust on the matter either, especially since it was of such grave significance. The author had said so himself: if Bill ever managed to get ahold of that rift, then reality itself could very well cease to be. The knowledge of that fact alone was a momentous, massive weight, one that the young Gem feared he wouldn’t be properly carry but at the very least, he didn’t have to do it alone. For just as he began to doubt his own resolve, he was broken out of his thoughts by the comforting hand that fell upon his shoulder. Steven was unable to hold back a small smile as he met the gentle, affirmative one Dipper was offering him, one that carried the promise that, despite how daunting protecting the rift and its secrets might be, it was a task that they’d carry out together. And that alone was exactly the kind of warm reassurance the young Gem needed to hope that they’d be able to carry that untold, almost crushing weight after all. “B-but… you don’t have to worry,” Steven said as he turned back to the author. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

“Very good,” Ford said, genuinely grateful as he rose to stand. “Now, both of you, follow me. We’ve much to do.”

Neither boy questioned the author any further as they hurried after him to the gift shop, watching in curious anticipation as he opened the hidden elevator behind the vending machine up. However, instead of taking them down to the basement lab, the elevator stopped on the floor between it, at an ornate wooden door that only Ford seemed to hold the key to. And needless to say that that boys were quite amazed by what they saw.

Contained between the gift shop and the underground lab was an entire floor in and of itself, one that surprisingly spacious, even despite the walls lined with full bookshelves and old, interesting artifacts and machinery strewn just about everywhere. The rather long room stretched back into a corridor with covered walls and a massive machine consisting of several large screens and a dizzying array of wires and buttons. Of course, both Steven and Dipper were absolutely amazed to discover such an impressive hideout, one that neither of them ever even knew existed before though Ford was steady as ever as he led the way into it.

“Welcome to my private study,” he began, not making much time to give the boys even a simple tour of the room. “A place where I keep my most ancient and secret knowledge. Even Stanley, Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl don’t know about this place, however, Rose did.” At this, the author briefly sent Steven a small, knowing grin over his shoulder, one that he only weakly returned as he continued following after Ford to the other end of the room. Dipper, however, detracted somewhat, curious to see exactly what knowledge his uncle might be keeping in this extensive collection, however, before he could really try to investigate, Ford urgently prompted him onward.

“Dipper, come along!” the author called as he began setting up the large machine, which was only labeled as ‘Project Mentum’. “If we can’t Bill-proof the shack, then we’re going to have to do the next best thing.” At this, Ford held up a rather old-looking metallic helmet, one that was connected to the machine by several wires and seemed to carry some sort of unknown purpose to it. “We’re going to have to Bill-proof our minds.”

Both Steven and Dipper let out a shared gasp at this, but even so, they were unable to hold back relieved smiles as they looked to each other. Because for perhaps the first time since last night, it seemed as though there was actually a way to fend Bill off after all, to keep him from tormenting them any further, from plaguing their thoughts and haunting their nightmares. And, after everything they’d been through because of the demon throughout the summer, that alone was enough to fill both boys with more hope than they had known in quite some time.

Even if such hope wasn’t destined to last.

With their unicorn-finding mission clear and their shared resolve burning, Mabel and Connie set out on their intrepid quest, gathering a motley crew consisting of Wendy, Candy, and Grenda to accompany them. And, as Ford had advised, the girls managed to recruit the first Gem they could find to act as something of a chaperone, said Gem just so happening to be Pearl, who had just ventured down to the shack to check on the kids as soon as Connie and Mabel stepped out of it. Without filling the white Gem in on much of their mission, she still decided to join the group, largely out of her lingering worry concerning the upsetting reveals made throughout the previous night. All the same, Pearl was somewhat surprised by just how overtly upbeat the majority of the group was as they ventured into the depths of the forest with only journal 1 and the knowledge contained therein to serve as their guide.

“It’s nice to finally be out on a mission, just us gals!” Mabel quipped as she led the way with a bit of an excited spring in her step.

“Well, a mission that isn’t super likely to put all of our lives in danger, at least,” Connie remarked rather knowingly.

“And exactly what the purpose of this mission again?” Pearl asked, making sure to keep an eye out for any supernatural monster that might possibly assail them. “You girls failed to really give me all of the details before we set out on this so-called ‘magical quest’ of ours.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Grenda asked boisterously. “We’re going to meet, touch, and/or become unicorns!”

“U-Unicorns?!” Pearl gasped, completely appalled as she looked back to Mabel and Connie. “That’s what all this is about? Well, if that’s the case then you girls can count me out of this little venture!”

“What?” Connie asked as the collective group stopped short to look to the white Gem in confusion. “But why?”

“Why?” Pearl repeated incredulously. “Because simply put, unicorns are nuisances. They always have been, ever since we happened upon them decades ago. Even Rose couldn’t stand their self-entitled attitude and honestly I completely agree with her. I can’t even begin to fathom why on Earth any of you girls would actually want to actively go looking for such… infuriating creatures!”

“Because Grunkle Ford said that if we get a whole bunch of their hair then we can use it to make some sorta barrier thing that’ll keep the shack and the temple safe from Bill!” Mabel informed with a sense of pressing urgency.

“Wait, what?!” the white Gem exclaimed, even more stunned to her this. “Y-you mean there’s actually a way to arm ourselves against that… that monster? All this time and we had no idea… This changes everything!”

“So… does that mean you’ll help us find a unicorn?” Connie asked, exchanging a hopeful glance with Mabel.

Pearl hesitated for a beat at this, though inevitably she let out a long, begrudging sigh, knowing that she really had no other choice. “I suppose I will if I really must… Still, I wish there was another way of going about this… Dealing with those infernal unicorns almost isn’t worth the aggravation, even if it will potentially help us ward off Cipher…”

“Um… well, who knows?” Mabel said with a bit of a forced, encouraging smile. “Maybe unicorns aren’t as bad as you remember them being, Pearl. I mean, based on everything I’ve heard about them, they sound like they’re the most magical, sparkly, amazing magical horses out there!”

“I hear that if you lick a unicorn’s neck, it tastes like your favorite flavor in the world!” Candy added enthusiastically.

“Candy, I will make sure you lick that unicorn’s neck, because I care about my friends,” Mabel said with heavy resolve, remembering what Ford had said about unicorns only allotting their hair to the most pure of heart. And as far as Mabel was concerned, she was already that and then some, to the point that the unicorns very likely wouldn’t need any proof of her innate kindness and goodness at all. Or so she thought.

“Honestly, I stopped believing in unicorns when I was like, five years old,” Wendy remarked, casually swinging at low-hanging tree branches with her axe. “I’m just coming along to keep you kids from stepping into a bear trap and to make sure you guys aren’t too disappointed when you find out unicorns aren’t actually real.”

“Oh, they’re real all right,” Pearl countered, her eye twitching out of slight frustration over the thought of merely encountering any sort of unicorn alone. “Real aggravating.”

“Stop!” Mabel suddenly exclaimed as they reached a rather ethereal glade, filled with shimmering, otherworldly flora, ancient stone monuments, and the occasional fairy or sprite floating nearby. “This is the magical part of the forest! Now, let’s see…” The others gathered around her as she flipped through journal 1 before landing on a map of the mystical area they now found themselves in. “The gnome tavern is over there… the fairy nail salon is over there, but it says that to summon the unicorn, one must bellow this ancient chant droned by only the deepest-voiced druids of old.”

“On it!” Grenda proclaimed, grabbing the journal and rushing forward to the center of the glade. And from there, she got right to chanting, her abnormally deep voice carrying across the clearing as she belted the ancient non-melody out while the others stood by watching curiously.

“Ten bucks says nothing happens,” Wendy said, crossing her arms dubiously.

“I’ll take that bet,” Mabel smirked, confident that this chant would work. And work it did as suddenly, the entire glade began to violently shake. In response to Grenda’s deep, summoning chant, a massive stone structure began to rise up from the ground, one that was clearly mystical in nature based on its castle-like appearance and the shimmering golds and lush vinery decorating it.

“Here we go…” Pearl muttered bitterly to herself as the younger girls reacted excitedly, all of them rushing through the large wooden doors and into a place somehow even more dreamlike and enchanted than the magical forest it was situated in. A rainbow-accented waterfall fed a flowing stream that cut through the grassy enclosure, one that was inhabited by a pan flute playing faun and none other than an unquestionably magical unicorn, one that was practically straight out of fairytales and legends of old. Simply put, she was ethereal, lightly shimmering all over, from her pale blue skin to her bright, multicolored mane and tail, to her huge, wide, sparking eyes. She tossed her rainbow mane and let out a mighty neigh as the intruding group entered, almost all of them completely dazzled by her mere appearance alone, much less her actual existence.

“Mother of mothers!” Grenda gasped, amazed.

“Dream of dreams!” Candy exclaimed, just as stunned.

“It can’t be…” Connie whispered, shocked.

“No way,” Wendy scowled, especially as Mabel reached her hand up for the bet she had just won and the ten bucks she now had to fork over.

“Oh of course…” Pearl grumbled upon looking to the familiar unicorn poised before them. “It just had to be her…”

“Hark!” the unicorn proclaimed sharply, apparently communicating through her glowing pink horn. “Visitors to my realm of enchantment!”

“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!” Mabel squealed happily, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. “What’s your name?”

“I am Celestabellebethabelle, last of my kind!” the unicorn introduced herself. “Come in, come in. Just… take off your shoes. I have a whole thing about shoes.” The girls were quick to comply, all of them removing their shoes at the gate save for Wendy and Pearl, both of whom were already none too enthused about this encounter in the first place. Even so, Celestabellebethabelle was quick to notice their belligerence and even quicker to call them out on it. “Ah, ah! I’m talking to everyone!” Despite their increased annoyance at this, both the cashier and the white Gem complied, though the unicorn let out something of an angry snort the moment she caught sight of Pearl in particular. “You! Crystal Gem!” she exclaimed hotly, slamming one of her hooves down. “I do believe I was quite clear with your leader many years ago that NONE of your kind are welcome back into my mystical domain! So please, be a dear and… REMOVE YOURSELF FROM MY PRESCENCE AT ONCE!”

“Oh, believe me, I gladly would,” Pearl huffed, crossing her arms as she unapologetically at the unicorn. “After all, the last thing I want is to be in the ‘presence’ of someone as completely gaudy and over the top as yourself, Celestabelle.”

“It is Celestabellebethabelle, and I will thank you kindly to remember it!” the unicorn snapped fiercely, lowering herself as though she planned on charging the white Gem herself, though fortunately, Mabel intervened before any such altercation could take place.

“W-wait!” she exclaimed, rushing to stand between the two before offering Celestabellebethabelle a very saccharine smile. “Heh, you’ll have to forgive Pearl here, she… had a pretty rough night last night.”

“I did not!” Pearl exclaimed defensively. “I’ll have you know that I tried sleeping for the first time last night and even if I still don’t understand the functional purpose of such an activity, I’d like to think that I still did a suitable job at it!”

“Pearl…” Connie whispered, giving the white Gem something of a pleading glance. And, despite her own apt frustrations at the unicorn that was still issuing her a rather harsh look, she begrudgingly backed down, knowing that acting out was doing nothing for their much more important cause.

“A-anyway…” Mabel continued, trying to make up for Pearl’s outburst with a heavy layer of politeness. “Celestabellebethabelle, we have journeyed far and wide-”

“About an hour!” Grenda chimed in.

“-On a mission to protect our family with your magical hair!”

“This is your chance, Candy…” Candy whispered to herself as she snuck to Celestabellebethabelle’s side, her tongue out as she leaned in close. “Lick the neck… lick it…”

“Very well!” the unicorn exclaimed, lifting herself up and her neck out of Candy’s reach. “Despite your rather… poor company,” she paused, briefly sending another cold scowl Pearl’s way. “I shall allow you this opportunity out of the immense goodness of my immaculate soul.”

“Oh please…” Pearl muttered, rolling her eyes at such an exaggerated claim.

“To receive a lock of my enchanted hair, step forth, girl of pure, perfect heart!” Celestabellebethabelle called, her tone as dramatic and bold as ever.

After a round of encouraging smiles and nods from Connie, Candy, and Grenda, Mabel stepped forward with a confident grin, assured that she’d be able to win the unicorn’s favor, even despite the rather rough start of this meeting. “Presenting… bum buh da bum bum ba bum bum! Mabel!”

Celestabellebethabelle seemed to take pause for a moment, as if sizing the girl before her up for a moment before letting out a harsh, appalled gasp. “What? You?!” she asked in what sounded like offended disbelief. “A unicorn can see deep inside your heart, child, and you have done WRONG!” To punctuate her claim, Celestabellebethabelle pointed the tip of her horn directly at Mabel, sparking up a bright, heart-shaped glow on her chest, one that was quick to turn dark and black, much to her alarm. “Wrong, I say!”

“W-what?” Mabel gasped, confused and distraught as she quickly covered her heart from the unicorn’s piercing gaze.

“But how can that be?” Connie interjected, quickly placing a comforting hand on Mabel’s shoulder as she addressed Celestabellebethabelle with apt seriousness. “I’m sorry to sound rude, but Mabel really is one of the kindest, most helpful people you’ll ever meet. Right, guys?”

“Yeah!” Grenda exclaimed in rowdy agreement.

“Absolutely,” Candy said resolutely as Pearl and Wendy also nodded.

“So… maybe your magical, uh… heart-scanning magic was just a bit… I don’t know, off?” Connie finished amicably enough.

“It is most certainly NOT ‘off’!” Celestabellebethabelle scoffed hotly. “A unicorn’s tuition is never wrong! And my intuition can confirm, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that THAT girl’s heart is nowhere near pure enough to obtain the prize of my glorious hair!”

“But-”

“H-hold on a sec, Connie,” Mabel interrupted with a fretful frown. “I… s-she… might have a point… I mean, I do make fun of Dipper a lot… Plus there was that whole… puppet show thing with Bill that was kinda mostly my fault… and I did just shatter a window with a crossbow…”

“Your bad deeds make me cry!” Celestabellebethabelle let out an embellished sob, rainbow tears spilling from her eyes and burning up the grass below on contact.

“Noooo!” Mabel cried, shocked and horrified by the unicorn’s incredibly harsh reaction. A reaction that was only garnished from her own apparently unknown lack of purity all along.

“Alright, that’s quite enough!” Pearl interjected hotly, sending Celestabellebethabelle a vicious glare as she came to stand defensively between her and Mabel. “Don’t think I’m not wise to your little ‘game’, Celestabelle.”

“Again, its Celestabellabethabelle!”

“I don’t care!” the white Gem huffed angrily. “If you think I’m going to let you get away with emotionally devastating a poor innocent child like Mabel, then you’re dead wrong!”

“Oh, well that’s just the thing,” Celestabellebethabelle remarked with a knowing smirk. “I don’t ‘have’ to get away with anything. I’m a unicorn. I do whatever I want! Including kick you out of my enchanted glen like the rabble you are.”

“Oh, I’ll show you ‘rabble’ you self-righteous, pretentious, over-glorified equine snob!” Pearl yelled, more than ready to summon her spear and outright attack if not for Connie and Wendy holding her back.

“Uh, Pearl? I’m with you on this whole thing being pretty screwed up, but you should probably reign it in just a little,” Wendy remarked as they began to lead the still quite hostile white Gem out of the glen.

“Yeah, its not worth it,” Connie agreed. “Well, I mean, it is worth it if it means we can get that hair protect the shack and the temple from Bill, but still we shouldn’t resort to violence to get it unless we absolutely have to.”

“Yes, yes, that’s right, leave with whatever small shred of dignity you have left,” Celestabellebethabelle said, turning her nose up at the rest of the group as they dejectedly left in defeat. “Perhaps try coming back when you’re PURE OF HEART!” At this, the unicorn let out another dramatic neigh, only to pause for a brief beat of silence as the group looked to her once more rather incredulously. “Exit is that way. Oh, and shoes! Shoes! Take your shoes! This isn’t some… some shoe store!”

And with that, the collective group was shut out of the unicorn’s glen, though thankfully it didn’t sink back into the ground, just in case they all decided to actually return again. Even so, that wasn’t something any of them were too keen on after the very cold reception they had just received from Celestabellebethabelle, especially Mabel, who was practically fighting back tears over the rather biting, perhaps accurate, claims the unicorn had made against her.

“Hey, Mabel, don’t let her get to you,” Grenda said as both her and Candy put comforting hands on their distraught friends’ shoulders.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t trust a horse that wears makeup,” Wendy scoffed, rolling her eyes over the unicorns’ uppity mannerisms.

“How dare that haughty horse pull that ‘not pure of heart’ gambit again,” Pearl remarked crossly, sending a cold glare back at the now closed gates of the unicorn’s glen. “I wouldn’t put any stock into anything she said back there, Mabel. After all, she had the gall to tell Rose, of all people, that she wasn’t pure of heart around the turn of the century! True, Rose may have made… a few mistakes in the past, but even so, such a claim is completely ridiculous; I mean, Gems don’t even have hearts in the first place!”

“Uh, I think what Pearl is trying to say, Mabel,” Connie interjected much more rationally. “Is that you shouldn’t worry about what that unicorn said about you. We can always find some other way to protect ourselves from Bill. Probably… Hopefully.”

“No, girls, she’s right,” Mabel said, sucking in a deep, resolved breath. “I used to be one of the sweetest people I knew, but recently I’ve been seriously slacking in the whole goodness department. Well, today, we’re gonna fix it! From this moment forth, I’m gonna do so many good deeds that I’ll have the purest heart in Gravity Falls!” With this dedicated proclamation, she threw a first up into the air with gusto, only for it to squarely strike a low flying bird by mistake, knocking out of the air and clearly injuring it, much to everyone else’s concerned surprise. “…That… that bird is fine.”

Knowing that time was of the essence when it came to halting Bill’s ambitions, Ford wasted none of it in calibrating his mysterious Project Mentum while the boys stood by, both of them curious, hopeful, and anxious as they mutually wondered whether or not this plan of action would truly work at all. Eager to finally be rid of the menace that was the dream demon once and for all, Dipper had volunteered to go first, with Steven patiently sitting next to him while Ford carefully hooked him up to the machine by way of its bulky metal helmet. Things had been rather quiet amongst the three of them in light of the seriousness of their shared endeavor, but when this tentative silence finally was broken, Steven was the one to do so.

“Um, Mr. Ford?” he began somewhat hesitantly as the author turned to the machine itself to finish setting it up. “Are you sure this is gonna work?”

“Yes,” Ford said, completely confident as he glanced over his shoulder. “I built this device specifically with the intent of using it as a defense against Bill quite some time ago. Which is why I have the upmost certainty that it’ll do its part in shielding you boys against his influence.”

Steven and Dipper exchanged another brief, somewhat hopeful glace at this, knowing that the promise of freeing themselves from the lingering nightmares Bill caused them even still seemed almost too good to be true. And yet, even that promise, as wonderful as it sounded, wasn’t quite enough for Dipper. Based on past encounters with the mysterious dream demon, as well as the Gems’ own horrific account given last night, he couldn’t help but still have quite a few questions concerning the looming threat that had been terrorizing them all practically all summer. “So… what exactly is Bill anyway?” he asked, hoping that, with his vast knowledge, Ford might hold at least a few answers to those questions.

“No one knows for sure,” Ford began, handing off a folder to his nephew that was simply entitled the ‘Cipher File’. Both Steven and Dipper glanced over its sparse contents, a few old documents that game only very brief, not very detailed information concerning matters only remotely related to Bill as the author went on. “Accounts differ of his true motivations and origin. What I do know is that he’s older than our galaxy, and far more twisted. His current domain is the Nightmare Realm, an unstable place of untold horrors all crafted by Bill himself. Thankfully though, he’s mostly confined there, for now. Without a physical form, he can only project himself into our thoughts through the mindscape. That’s why he wants this,” Ford held up the rift, being ever careful with its fragile form as the boys both looked to it apprehensively. “I dismantled the portal, but with this tear, Bill still has a way into our reality. To get his hands on this rift, he would trick or possess anyone.”

“Wait, so… he wants that rift too?” Steven asked, unconsciously placing a hand over where his gemstone was.

“Too?” Ford paused, turning to glance at the young Gem at this. “What do you mean ‘too’?”

“Uh… well…” Steven hesitated somewhat, though upon receiving an encouraging nod from Dipper, he decided it was best if he spoke his piece. “Last night, Bill showed up in a dream I had. He tried to get me to give him my gem, but after I told him no, he said that its already his since my mom promised to give it to him. The Gems are pretty sure that Mom never did that, but… I’m still not sure. What do you think, Mr. Ford?”

The author didn’t answer right away, instead looking to the young Gem with an expression of unquestionable alarm upon hearing such a claim. Yet at the same time, his reaction to the news was every bit as vague as it was when he learned that Bill had possessed Dipper, almost as if he was trying to conceal how he really felt about such a revelation. “So you’re the one he-” Ford quickly cut himself off, noticing the curious looks both boys were sending him as he immediately regained his usual scholarly composure. “Hm, yes, well, the fact that Bill is after your gemstone is extremely troubling indeed, Steven. Even so, I agree with the Gems; its highly unlikely that Rose would have agreed to turn over her gemstone to the likes of him, no matter what he might have promised her for it. As for why he might want it though, that’s… unclear. It makes sense that he’d want to get ahold of the rift, but its hard to say what he might want a gemstone—Rose Quartz’s gemstone in particular—for. Unless…”

“Unless… what?” Steven pressed, immensely curious.

Ford jolted at this, quickly shaking his head as if to clear it before offering both boys a somewhat forced reassuring smile. “Oh, i-its nothing, nothing at all,” he remarked with a dismissive wave of his hand. “What matters now is that we do what we can to protect our minds from Bill.”

“So how exactly do we do that?” Dipper asked intently.

“Well, there are a number of ways,” the author said. “I personally had a metal plate installed in my head by an otherworldly, seven-eyed oracle.”

“Heh, good one,” Dipper chuckled in response to such an admittedly outlandish claim. That is, until Ford proved it to be true by knocking against the side of his head, eliciting a strong metallic sound that was more than enough to get his nephew to awkwardly retract his doubt.

“But this machine is much safer,” the author continued, nodding to the several screens behind them. “It will scan your mind, bioelectrically encrypting your thoughts so Bill can’t read them. Now…” Ford paused, only to press the final button to set Project Mentum in motion. “Say hello to your thoughts.”

All at once, the machine sparked to life, its various screens filling in with Dipper’s own thoughts, putting them all on unfettered display for all three of them to see and hear as they cycled through at a seemingly random pace: “Oh man, I can’t believe I’m actually with the author!” “Is my fly down?” “Disco girl! Coming through!” “I miss Tyrone…” “Bill better stay away from Steven if he knows what’s good for him!” “I have to find a way to save Lapis!” “Huh, I might be just a little emotionally unstable… Maybe I should go get some therapy or something?”

“Um, y-you might wanna… ignore that last one…” Dipper said, quite flustered by his thoughts being so openly and unintentionally revealed like that.

“Whoa, that’s so cool!” Steven exclaimed, stars in his eyes. “I wanna see what my thoughts have to say! I mean, I already know what they say since they’re in my head, but I wanna see them laid out on a screen like that!”

“And you will,” Ford interjected. “After Dipper is done. This is a very delicate process that could potentially take hours to complete. Which means all we can do now is be patient and let the machine do its job.”

“Oh, well, uh, maybe in the meantime you could… I dunno, maybe fill us in on what your history with Bill is in the first place?” Dipper ventured, still quite eager to know exactly what the apparently quite significant context for Ford’s impressive knowledge concerning the dream demon actually was.

“Dipper, do you trust me?” Ford asked, his tone quite serious as he knelt down next to his great nephew.

“Well, yeah, but-”

“Then you’ll trust that that’s not important,” the author concluded staunchly, standing as he headed back over to his desk, leaving both Dipper and Steven as much in the dark as they ever were. “Now, focus. Its time to strengthen your mind…”

Determined to prove herself to Celestabellebethabelle, Mabel took to the town, the others following suit to do whatever they could to help her carry out the lengthy list of good deeds she had come up with. Their main objective was clear: to help out as many people as they could in the hopes that no one, not even the unicorn herself, would be able to deny that Mabel was not just more than worthy enough to not just obtain that magical hair, but also that her heart was overflowing with purity and goodness beyond compare.

And so the group set out to do just that, lending their cheerful aid to any troubled soul they could find. They moved snails from the danger of the streets to the safety of the grass and planted a tree right in front of the door to the Gravity Falls’ Gossiper office, unknowingly trapping Toby Determined inside of it. They helped Kiki on her pizza delivery route and fixed up several of the games at Funland Arcade. They gave Stan a literal smile in the form of a giant smiley face sticker slapped onto his face and Mabel even went as far as donating three pints of her own blood to those in need, disregarding her own lightheadedness after the fact. From there, they covered several smaller deeds on the list, like helping old ladies and ducks cross the road, to filling Lazy Susan’s tip jar, to sprucing up the town statues of Nathaniel Northwest and William Dewey with a fresh coat of glitter. Though their altruistic mission took several hours of hard, selfless work on their part, by the time they were finished, they all felt quite satisfied that they had met their goal, particularly Mabel as they began to make their way back to the unicorn’s glade.

“Boom! A thousand good deeds!” she exclaimed happily as she crossed the last item off her list. “When that unicorn scans my heart again, she’s gonna say that I’m absolutely, one hundred percent, bona-fide-”

“NOT pure of heart!” Celestabellebethabelle proclaimed after the group returned to her glen, her insistence on the matter just as harsh and firm as it was before.

“Booyah!” Mabel cheered, though she quickly changed her tune upon realizing exactly what the unicorn had said. “Wait… w-what?”

“How is that even possible?” Wendy asked with an incredulous scoff. “Mabel’s a straight up saint, you judgmental hoofbag!”

“Seriously, she just spent the entire afternoon helping people,” Connie added knowingly. “Doesn’t that mean anything here?”

“Please! Tell me what I’m doing wrong!” Mabel practically begged, distraught that her efforts were apparently all for naught.

“Doing good deeds to make yourself look better isn’t good at all,” Celestabellebethabelle remarked haughtily. “Not to mention you’re crushing like, ten dandelions right now. Those are basically children’s dreams.” Mabel let out a horrified gasp at this, quickly stepping off the small patch of dandelions she was incidentally standing on before the unicorn condescendingly continued. “I’m sorry, Mabel. It’s not my fault you’re a bad person.”

Unable to take the unicorn’s brutally harsh criticisms any longer, Mabel ran off, not even trying to hold back a heartbroken sob amidst this second, much more painful rejection. As appalled by Celestabellebethabelle’s rather cruel attitude as they were, most of the others didn’t stick around to chastise her on it as they all hurried out of the glen to make sure she was alright. All except for Pearl, who decided to hang back solely for the sake of giving the unicorn a few choice words in light of the completely shameful display she had just witnessed.

“You may have those girls fooled, but you’re not fooling me,” the white Gem said, her voice almost a vicious hiss as she glared at the unicorn unflinchingly. “I know what you’re trying to do here. You did the exact same thing to Rose Quartz about 100 years ago so if you think I’m going to stand by and let you tear someone else down like that, especially someone like Mabel, then you’ve got another thing coming!”

“Oh really?” Celestabellebethabelle deadpanned, clearly not taking the white Gem seriously. “And what exactly might that ‘thing’ be?”

“Trying to act like you’re some grand authority on the contents of a person’s character!” Pearl exclaimed hotly. “I don’t know who made you had the right to judge others like you do, but whoever they were, they probably knew as little about actually being good and kind as you do.”

“As if you really know any better?” Celestabellebethabelle scoffed crossly. “The last time you were here a century ago, the only thing I saw you do was helplessly cling to your precious Rose Quartz as if she was paradigm of perfection. But even still, all these years later, I still stand what I said. She’s not pure of heart and neither are YOU!”

Pearl simply let out a harsh scoff at this, not even bothering to dignify the unicorn with a response to this as she simply turned on her heel to leave, though not before giving one final, bitter remark as she departed. “I don’t need some sanctimonious unicorn to tell me that,” she huffed, her anger dissipating into remorse as she completely turned away, recalling a certain recent mistake of hers that had all but proved her impurities through and through. “After all…” she muttered to herself somewhat sadly. “I already know…”

However, the white Gem’s self-pity didn’t last too long as she left the unicorn’s glen, only to find the girls all gathered around Mabel, who was lying close to the nearby stream, curled up into a miserable ball as she wept quietly, even despite the comfort the others were trying to offer her.

“Come on, Mabel,” Wendy encouraged earnesty. “Don’t beat yourself up about this.”

“Let���s just forget about that dumb hair and go home,” Candy advised, though Mabel was having none of that.

“It’s not just about the hair anymore, guys,” she sniffled as she sat upright and held her list of failed good deeds close. “It’s about me. Being kind and sweet is what makes me who I am. If I’m not a good person, then who am I?”

“Well, I know who you are,” Connie interjected, placing a steadying hand on Mabel’s shoulder. “You’re Mabel; you’re fun and creative and most of all, kind, no matter what that unicorn says. And you don’t have to prove that to anyone, especially not her; because as far as we’re all concerned, that was something we all knew from the very start.”

Upon hearing this, Mabel briefly looked up at Connie, her cheeks still wet with tears as she met the warm smile her friend was offering her. And for a moment, her encouraging, hopeful words almost managed to convince her that it was true, that she was a good person, despite Celestabellebethabelle’s claims. And yet… it still wasn’t quite enough. “I-I appreciate it, Connie, but… she’s right…” Mabel sighed sadly as she pulled her shoulder away. “Its time I finally admit it to myself; I’m just not as pure of heart as I used to think I was… Which is why I’m not leaving this spot until I think of a deed that makes me as good as Celestabellebethabelle!”

“But Mabel-” Grenda attempted to reason before she was promptly cut off.

“Just leave me be!” Mabel snapped in morose frustration, turning her back to the group as she began pondering over her list once more. The other girls were largely at a loss over what to do to comfort her at this juncture, but even so, they didn’t get much of a chance as Pearl discreetly called them all over to her spot under a nearby tree.

“Alright, enough is enough,” the white Gem began as soon as they had all gathered near her. “It’s time to put an end to this unicorn nonsense once and for all. And the sooner we do it, the better, especially for Mabel’s sake…” Pearl frowned as she stole a sympathetic glance at the miserable girl sitting only a few feet away, desperate to find a way to make herself worthy in the eyes of a creature who clearly didn’t deserve that kind of valiant effort.

“I’m with Pearl on this one,” Wendy staunchly agreed with a deepening scowl. “If you ask me, this whole thing is a serious load. Mabel’s like one of the best people I’ve ever met. We tried getting that hair the nice way; now its time we try the Wendy way.”

“Are you suggesting violence? Sabotage?” Grenda asked, caught off guard.

“Oooo… you know, normally I’m not the kind to approve of such roguish behavior but… in this instance… that sounds… quite intriguing…” Pearl remarked, sending a daring smirk towards the nearby unicorn’s glen.

“Honestly, at this point? I’m up for trying something like that too,” Connie said, crossing her arms. “Its about time someone puts that awful unicorn in her place, so it might as well be us.”

“But what about Mabel?” Candy asked worriedly. “She’s not going to like this…”

“Mabel doesn’t need to know,” Wendy shook her head dismissively. “Look, its time we stopped trying to be so ‘perfect’ and be who we really are. We’re crazed, angry, sweaty animals—well, except for you, Pearl, I guess. No offense.”

“None taken,” Pearl said, nodding for her to go on with her inspiring rand.

“But anyway, we’re not unicorns, we’re WOMEN! And we take what we want!” To punctuate her point, Wendy slammed her fist into the nearby tree, eliciting excited cheers from Connie, Candy, and Grenda alike as well as a satisfied grin from Pearl.

In fact, the newfound revelry was so contagious that Grenda ended up smashing a rather large rock to bits against her forehead, instantly quieting the cheers as the others all looked to her, aptly startled. “…Too much?”

“Ok,” Wendy said as the group huddled in to begin their ambitious, albeit morally ambiguous plan. “Here’s what we’re gonna do…”

Gnasty’s Gnome Tavern was by and large the most popular gnome tavern anywhere near Gravity Falls, largely since it was just about the only gnome tavern in the surrounding area. Its usual patrons were a notoriously rowdy bunch who spent their days knocking back honeysuckle shots and exchanging the regular brutal punch or kick to the face to anyone in the remote vicinity. Yet despite their renowned roughhousing, none of the gnomes occupying the tavern were quite prepared for the much larger group that rather violently burst into the bar completely out of nowhere.

“It’s the cops!” one of the gnomes cried as the tavern was immediately thrown into a panic as the group of girls forcefully pushed themselves into the hallowed-out tree. “Hit the deck!”

“We’re looking for someone who knows how to take down a unicorn!” Wendy shouted fiercely amidst the clatter of scattering gnomes. “No tricks or games!”

“We are human!” Candy yelled, breaking an empty bottle over a nearby table and holding its sharpened end up threateningly. “We take what we want!”

“I know a sure-fire way of K.Oin’ a unicorn,” a rather shady, grizzled gnome sitting in the darkened corner of the tavern spoke up. “Too bad I ain’t in the market for spillin’ that kinda info to a bunch of normal-sized girlies like yourselves.”

“Oh, I think you will,” Connie said coldly, drawing Rose’s sword and aiming its sharp tip directly at the gnome.

“Heh,” he chuckled, surprisingly not surprised by this overt threat. “I like the way you ladies operate. So, listen up. Fairy dust; a whole magic bag’s enough to put a unicorn out cold. But if I do you a favor, then you gotta do somethin’ for me.”

“Just spill it, half-pint!” Grenda roared, slamming her fist against a nearby tree stump.

“Now, now, patience,” Pearl advised much more calmly as she looked back to the gnome with solid seriousness. “Name your price.”

“Butterfly traffickin’ is illegal in this part of the forest,” the gnome began, his voice low and discreet. “But I like butterflies. They tickle my face and make me laugh. Bring me a bag of butterflies and we got a deal.”

The girls all exchanged a dubious glance at this, most of them rather bewildered by how the odd rules and regulations of gnome culture. Even so, they were quick to nod their agreement to this plan, knowing that this haggle would be more than worth it to make Celestabellebethabelle pay for what she had done.

Fortunately, it didn’t take the group but a few minutes to capture a whole bag full of butterflies before meeting up with the gnome in the designated clearing. The others all hid out in the nearby bushes as they sent Grenda in to preform the trade, her manner just as unsuspecting as the gnomes as she quietly handed him off the bag of butterflies before he produced his end of the bargain.

“Two bags of fairy dust, just as we agreed,” he said, turning over two small pouches of the glittering substance.

“Where do you get this stuff?” Grenda shook her head, glancing between the dust and the gnome.

“Everyone likes sausage, but no one likes to know how it’s made,” the gnome smirked as he peeked into his bag of butterflies.

“You disgust me.”

“Hey, you got your poison; I got mine. We made a deal.”

“Yeah, well, the deal’s OFF!” Grenda shouted, blowing a whistle to summon an entire squadron of gnome policemen from the nearby woods. The arrangement with the cops had been an easy enough one to make, one that resulted in a meticulously planned-out sting operation that was already unfolding exactly as planned.

“Freeze!” the chief shouted as the first gnome was heavily pinned down by the other cops, his butterflies quickly swiped away from him. “You’re under arrest!”

“These butterflies aren’t mine! I swear I’ve been framed!” the gnome cried, sending a harsh glare to Grenda and the other girls as they came out of the bushes to join her.

“Tell it to the adorable owl we’ve dressed as a judge,” the chief scoffed as the gnome as hauled away for sentencing. “My cut?” he held his hand out to Grenda a beat later, and she handed him one of the two bags of fairy dust, just as they had agreed upon.

“Has the gnome criminal justice system always been this corrupt?” Connie asked with a somewhat concerned frown over these shady proceedings.

“Oh believe me, they have,” Pearl remarked, crossing her arms knowingly.

With the butterfly bust complete and a full bag of fairy dust still in hand, the group wasted no time in hurrying back over the unicorn’s glen, taking care to not let Mabel spot them as she remained at her spot near the stream, still trying in vain to come up with more good deeds to accomplish. With Celestabellebethabelle distracted with reading as she was, she didn’t even notice as they all slipped into her magical domain, filing in behind a row of rocks and trees so they wouldn’t be seen as they prepared to carry the final steps of their daring plan out.

“Oh, sure, I wish I could travel, but its just not feasible in this economy!” Celestabellebethabelle huffed to herself as she read through her copy of Whinny, Prey, Trot. However, it was only a moment later that the unicorn was struck squarely in the face with the full bag full of fairy dust as a result of Candy’s accurate aim. “W-what the hey-!?” was all she really had time to say before the magical substance did its trick, knocking her out cold. Her attending faun witnessed all of this with apt horror, but as he tried piping out an SOS on his panflute, Grenda was quick to slip out of the shadows and cover his mouth with a towel dosed with a healthy amount of chloroform.

“Sleep now!” she hissed as the faun slowly went limp and unconscious as well. “Sleeeeeep…”

“Alright,” Pearl said as the others hurried over to the fainted unicorn. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Right,” Wendy nodded, pulling out a pair of scissors and a sizable lock of Celestabellebethabelle’s multi-colored hair. And yet, before she could make the decisive cut, their plans all too quickly fell through when they were unexpectedly discovered by the very person they had been trying to keep their ambitions a secret from in the first place.

“No, wait!” Mabel gasped, standing in the entrance of the glen only to see the others about to outright steal some of the unicorn’s precious hair. “Stop! What are you guys doing?!”

“What does it look like we’re doing?” Pearl asked in a careful whisper, glancing over at the still unconscious Celestabellebethabelle. “We’re taking what we deserve, whether that uppity unicorn likes it or not!”

“Yeah, seriously, Mabel, keep it down!” Wendy cautioned, moving her scissors in to clip the hair. “You’ll wake her up!”

“But this is wrong, you guys!” Mabel exclaimed, swiftly taking the scissors away from the cashier.

“But protecting the shack and the temple is good,” Wendy rationalized, trying to take the scissors back. However, before she could, the unthinkable happened as Celestabellebethabelle suddenly began to stir from her momentary slumber only to spot Mabel and the scissors she was unintentionally gripping the very moment she opened her eyes.

“What?!” the unicorn gasped, quickly rising to her feet. “Doth mine eyes deceive me?! THIEF! You shall never be pure of heart!”

“N-no!” Mabel cried, instantly dropping the scissors as she looked to Celestabellebethabelle pleadingly. “Y-you don’t understand! I-I wasn’t… it was… P-please!” she ended up begging, tears falling from her eyes as she made one final, desperate plea to the outraged unicorn, even though she knew it likely wouldn’t help her now. “I-I just wanna be good like you!”

Celestabellebethabelle was more than prepared to fire off a harsh retort at this, however, right as she was about to, this intense confrontation was suddenly interrupted by a very unlikely pair. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” a male voice said, coming from one of the two unicorns that had just emerged from the other side of the glen, one red, one blue, and neither of them looking that amused with Celestabellebethabelle in light of what they’d just witnessed. “Yo, C-Beth, are you seriously pulling that whole ‘pure of heart’ scam again?”

“That is messed up, man,” the other unicorn added, shaking his mane disapprovingly.

“Wait… scam?” Mabel asked, exchanging a confused glance with the others.          

“Listen, kid,” the blue unicorn began rather dryly. “Unicorns can’t see into your heart. All our dumb horns can do is glow, point towards the nearest rainbow, and play rave music.” To prove his point, his horn began to somehow play a bout of upbeat techno music, which he could easily switch off at ease.

“Yeah, the whole ‘pure of heart’ racket is just a line we use to get humans to leave us alone,” the red unicorn said with a knowing scoff.

“Guuuuuys…” Celestabellebethabelle whispered nervously as her entire scheme began to fall apart. “Shut uuuuuup…”

“Wait, so… it was a lie all this time…?” Pearl spoke up before breaking out into a bout of triumphant, albeit somewhat unhinged laughter. “Ha! I knew it! I knew she was a fraud! All these years and I was right! It really was just a cruel trick to tear others down all along! Oh, if only Rose was still around to hear this, I bet she’d feel just as vindicated as I do right now!”

However, despite the white Gem’s zealous excitement, not everyone was as elated to hear the truth of the unicorn’s malicious gambit. “All this time…” Mabel began, her voice low and practically shaking with rage as she crushed her list of good deeds in her hands altogether. “All this time I thought I was a bad person, but you’re even worse than I am!” Her anger reached its mounting height as she threw her notepad down hard, her hands in tight fists as she glared at Celestabellebethabelle, refusing to let the deceptive unicorn be the judge of her any longer.

“Ok, fine,” Celestabellebethabelle huffed haughtily, knowing she’d been caught. “So you learned our secret. We’re jerks, ok? We have more hair than we know what to do with, and we keep it to ourselves just to tick humans off. So, what are you gonna do about it, huh? Huh? What are you gonna do-”

The unicorn was abruptly cut off the moment one of Mabel’s fists made brutal contact with the side of her jaw, instantly drawing some of her sparkling, rainbow-colored blood. Just about everyone gasped in shock in light of this sudden attack, and even Mabel herself was stunned by it as she looked to her own blood-covered hand, one that quickly turned back into a fist as she sent Celestabellebethabelle another hateful glare.

“Woo! Go Mabel!” Wendy cheered, already pulling her axe out of its hoister to join in on the fight.

“Join the dark side!” Grenda yelled, grabbing a nearby log to use as her weapon.

Mabel did just that as she fiercely tore the unicorn stitched onto her sweater off, making it quite clear that her former admiration and respect for the hypocritical mythical creatures was all but completely shattered right then and there. This sentiment of righteous fury carried throughout the rest of the group as well, with Wendy, Candy, and Grenda cheering for the no doubt oncoming fight as Connie swiftly drew her sword and Pearl even went as far as summoning her spear.

“You know, I usually don’t believing in physically harming any of the magical creatures of Gravity Falls,” the white Gem began as her expression slowly changed into a vengeful smirk. “But in this case, I’m more than willing to make an exception.”

“Oh, so it’s a fight you want, huh?” Celestabellebethabelle growled, digging her hoof into the soil below her as her fellow unicorns prepared themselves for the inevitable brawl. “Well, then it’s a fight you’re gonna get!”

Without any further hesitation from anyone, both sides rushed each other, meeting in a violent clash that quickly devolved into boundless chaos. Mabel was initially kicked back clean in the face by one of the unicorn’s hard-hitting hooves, though Connie was quick to swoop in for retribution, slamming the dull edge of Rose’s sword against his head in a decisive move. Grenda had landed one of the other unicorns in a headlock, repeatedly punching it in the face as Candy jumped onto his back and pulled on his hair as he let a heavy neigh of protest. Wendy was the first to get the jump on Celestabellebethabelle herself, only to be nearly trampled underfoot as she reared up high. Even so, she quickly fell back to the ground as Pearl landed a swift, elegant kick to her gut, one that was followed up by Mabel coming in for another punch to her snout. As intense and wild as this scuffle was, none of the girls could really deny that it was cathartic as could be; with each blow or beating they inflicted upon the deceitful unicorns, it felt as though there weren’t just taking out their anger in some much-needed revenge. It felt as though they were righting a grave wrong, breaking out of molds that they saw no reason to belong in any longer, and rising above unattainable standards that never truly existed in the first place. And most of all, they were proving, not just to Celestabellebethabelle, but to themselves, that the content of their characters was no one’s call but their own.

A feat that in and of itself would have been rewarding enough; though socking a sickeningly snobbish unicorn clean in the jaw only made that reward all the better.

As Ford had said, Project Mentum’s mental encryption process worked at an incredibly slow pace, something that Dipper and Steven realized more and more every time they stole a glance back at the screens behind them, which, even several hours later, still only showed its minimal progress at a mere 15%. In fact, it was taking so long that Ford had ended up falling asleep amidst pouring over his notes, leaving the boys to keeping themselves entertained during what was certainly a very lengthy, very boring endeavor.

“Ok, its my turn,” Steven grinned as he carried on the rather one-sided game of ‘I spy’ they had playing. “I spy with my little eye something… blue!”

“My vest,” Dipper answered immediately, clearly far from invested, especially when compared to the young Gem.

“Oh yeah, you got it!” Steven cheered brightly. “Then again, that one wasn’t that tough since there aren’t a lot of blue things in here.” The young Gem chuckled lightly at this, though his humor died down somewhat as he glanced over to far less enthusiastic friend beside him. “Um… Dipper? Are you ok?”

“Huh?” Dipper sat up a little at this, glancing over to Steven briefly. “Oh yeah, I’m fine, its just… we’ve been at this for hours now and it really doesn’t seem like anything’s actually happening.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, how do we really even know that this thing is actually gonna keep Bill from messing with us anymore?”

“Well, Mr. Ford said-”

“I know what Ford said,” Dipper sighed in growing frustration, especially as he glanced over at his sleeping great uncle a few feet away. “But how does he know? Why does he have to be so mysterious about Bill anyway? The Gems told us what they know about him, so why won’t Great Uncle Ford? He knows we’ve dealt with Bill before, which means whatever he’s keeping from us, I can handle it! I-I mean, we can handle it.”

“Maybe… he’s just not ready to tell us about it yet?” Steven suggested, largely respecting the author’s call on this. After all, given just how brutal and horrific the Gems’ past was with Bill, it only made sense that if Ford’s previous encounters with the dream demon were anything of the sort, that he’d be hesitant to discuss them. Dipper, on the other hand, was not so easily allayed.

“Hm… or maybe…” he trailed off, his sights still set on the author as his thoughts, made audible by the machine he was still connected to, filled in for him. “Maybe you should just use the machine! It’ll show us his thoughts!”

“H-huh?” Steven glanced behind him, somewhat alarmed to see and hear Dipper’s thoughts once more, especially as Dipper himself hardly seemed to pay them any mind. “Dipper, I… don’t know if using the machine on Mr. Ford is such a good idea…”

“Yeah, you’re probably right, we really shouldn’t…” Dipper said in apparent agreement, though his thoughts clearly said otherwise. “Great Uncle Ford won’t have to know. He’s going to tell you anyway.”

“Y-yeah, I’m sure he will!” Steven interjected anxiously. “Which is why we should probably just respect his privacy and let him tell us when he’s ready! R-right?”

“Right, right,” Dipper nodded, closing his eyes pensively as his thoughts continuing unveiling the truth. “No, not right! The more you know about Bill, the safer you’ll be! The more you can help!” “But then again… it could show us something really useful. You never know.”

“W-well, I do know that I think this is a bad idea,” the young Gem shook his head, his dread growing more and more by the second in light of his friend’s rather concerning thoughts, especially as they began to take on something of a more frustrated tone.

“Easy for Steven to say, he wasn’t the one who Bill tricked and possessed and nearly killed like YOU were!” Dipper’s expression darkened at this recollection, something that made Steven’s heart and stomach both sink in worry and fear alike. And those feelings only spiked as Dipper slowly removed the helmet, his stream of consciousness finally going silent as he kept his resolved sights on Ford and nothing else. “I’m sorry, Steven,” he said, his voice almost unnervingly quiet as he rose to stand. “But I have to know.”

“B-but-”

“It’ll be just a quick peek, I promise,” Dipper assured, casting a brief final glance back at Steven before carefully and quietly putting the helmet on his still-sleeping uncle. “What are you hiding about Bill…?”

The moment that Dipper finished securing the helmet onto Ford was the moment he got his answer. And that answer was much more horrifying than anything either him or Steven could have expected. For as soon as the device began to read the author’s thoughts, none other than the menacing image of Bill Cipher himself appeared on all of Project Mentum’s many screens, floating amidst a background of his iconic, sinister blue flames and cackling like the madman he was absolutely known to be. Unified gasps of equal fear rose up from both of the boys as Steven shot out of his seat, rushing to Dipper’s side as they watched with wide eyes and racing hearts as Ford’s slumbering thoughts told a story that neither of them ever thought they’d see.

“Where are these ideas coming from?!” A much younger McGucket yelled to a younger Ford, harshly shaking his shoulders as he gave him a look of complete and utter distrust. “Who are you workin’ with?!”

“Stanford, you HAVE to tell me what’s going on!” Another screen switched to Rose, her expression rife with worry as she spoke to the author just as urgently. “Who is ‘he’? Why won’t you let me help you instead?!”

“Because I don’t NEED you as long as I have him!” Ford shouted back, quite furious with the pink Gem for whatever reason.

The other screens were just as active as they flashed with an array of alarming images. Ford restlessly tossing and turning in his sleep, lost in an apparent torrent of unseen nightmares. Him writing “I’M LOSING MY MIND!” and “TRUST NO ONE!” into journal 3 in frantic, erratic script. The portal, sparking to life as nothing but sheer darkness and devastation lay beyond its otherworldly light. And throughout all this, several different voices joined in, weaving into this disjointed, frightening narrative each in their own unique, disconcerting way.

“My brother is a dangerous know-it-all…” Stan warned, though Ford himself soon cut him off with a warning of his own.

“He would trick or possess anyone-” the author had said and Steven and Dipper hadn’t doubted him. And yet the next scene they saw was more than enough to make them both doubt everything Ford had every said to them.

“Then it’s a deal,” Ford smiled, young and clearly confident as he held his hand out in offering. “From now until the end of time.”

Bill’s eye flashed with some unknown intent as he also extended a hand, one that was aglow with blue flames as he spoke with faux amicability. “Sure thing! Just let me into your mind, Stanford!”

“Please,” the author’s smile widened, completely oblivious to the danger the dream demon posed as their hands met in a solidifying shake over their ‘deal’. “Call me… a friend.”

The very next thing the boys saw was the result of this deal, Ford himself possessed by Bill, his eyes dark slits against piercing yellow and his voice mingling with the demon’s as they both cackled wickedly together in perfect, awful unison.

While Steven was largely stunned into silence by all this, Dipper only managed to get a few words out himself, even despite his own immense panic as the demon’s telltale maniacal laughter rang in his ears just as much as it had when he had been pulled out of his own body weeks ago. “N-no…” he choked, his voice barely a whisper as he shook his head in disbelief, hoping and practically praying it wasn’t true. “No, i-it… it can’t be… Ford a-and… and Bill?!”

Another sharp gasp rose from both boys as a sudden clamor rose from behind them, and as tense as they already were, they quickly spun around only to find that Ford himself had finally woken up at the very worst possible time. “You shouldn’t have done that…” the author said, his voice low and dark as he slowly stood. By his expression alone it was clear he as tranquilly furious, even though his eyes were obscured by the screens’ bright reflection off his glasses, which only served to make him even more admittedly intimidating as he towered over both of the terrified boys. Even still, Ford hardly seemed to note their obvious fear as he roughly took the helmet off and tossed it aside in his anger. The helmet just so happened to strike one of the many sheets covering the walls as it landed, easily pulling them down to reveal something that only made the boys’ palpable horror skyrocket exponentially.

Hidden behind both layers of curtains and secrets was what could only be defined as an all-out shrine to Bill Cipher. Several statutes prisms and statues of the demon were tucked away into the shadows, almost like twisted idols paying homage and reverence to someone who both Dipper and Steven knew to be an absolute monster worthy of no such honor. But worst of all, the walls were covered in detailed murals depicting Bill’s triangular over and over again, all of his painted eyes seeming to stare down at the frightened boys below them.

“W-what is all this?!” Steven asked, his entire body trembling as he forced himself to look away from the depiction of the demon who had haunted his dreams just a few hours prior.

“W-why… why were you shaking hands with Bill?!” Dipper exclaimed, quickly turning back around to face Ford, quickly glancing around for some means of defending himself and Steven, just in case. Fortunately, the Sword of Seasons was sitting on a table close by, largely since Ford had been tinkering with the invention a bit earlier, and even though the thought of drawing that blade against his own uncle made him sick, Dipper grabbed it nonetheless, as well as the memory erasing gun lying right next to it. “Steven! Grab the rift!”

Steven sucked in a sharp breath at this but he didn’t argue, quickly grabbing the rift off the table next to them, though amidst his rush to summon a bubble to further protect them, he nearly dropped the precious tear altogether.

“Careful!” Ford scolded harshly, his glasses still reflecting gold as he reached out to grab the rift, though he couldn’t get too close thanks to the bubble now surrounding the pair as they began to carefully back away. “Hand me the rift! Now, boys!”

“N-no!” Dipper retorted, trying to sound as brave as he could amidst his mounting fear. “You said Bill could possess anyone so he could get this, but—but you made a deal with him! How do we know you aren’t Bill right now!?”

“Now, just calm down, p-”

“Pine Tree?!” Dipper instantly cut Ford off, finally aiming the memory gun at him as opposed to his sword as memories of constant sleeps plagued with endless nightmares where Bill taunted and teased him with that very nickname flashed through his mind. “Is that what you were going to call me?!”

“I was just going to say please, kid!” Ford rationalized, but even so, his tone was still harsh and cold. By now, the boys had essentially backed themselves up into a corner, leaving them trapped with only Steven’s bubble serving as their only real defense against what could very well be Bill Cipher.

“Great Uncle Ford told me to protect the rift!” Dipper shouted, glancing over to make sure that Steven was still holding it close and tight. “And I’m not about to let you get your hands on it or on Steven’s gem! Get one step closer and I’ll shoot!” He aimed the memory gun up a bit higher at this, with the full intent to fire it off even despite knowing full well what its effects could be. “I’ll erase you right out of Ford’s head!”

“It’s me, Dipper!” Ford yelled hotly, his severity hardly calming either of the boys down whatsoever. “It’s your uncle!”

For the briefest moment, Dipper hesitated at this, his hands shaking as he tried, so very hard to believe that it really was just Ford, that Bill wasn’t using him as his own twisted puppet just as he had been weeks ago. And yet, he knew he couldn’t; because doing so could very well put himself, Steven, and even reality itself at risk. And that was a risk he wasn’t about to take when it came to Bill. Not again, not ever again.

“Steven, drop the bubble,” he said starkly, his tone every bit as shaky as his arms were.

“W-what?” Steven’s longstanding fearful silence finally broke at this, his eyes wide as he clung onto the rift and looked to his friend in disbelief.

“I said, drop it,” Dipper repeated, still not tearing his hardened gaze off of Ford, especially as the author threw his hand down onto the bubble’s pink surface out of anger.

“B-but that’s-”

“I know.”

“But if you shoot him, t-then his memories will-”

“I know, Steven!” Dipper shouted back fiercely, finally looking to the young Gem and allowing him to see just how much panic, rage, and sorrow were all mingled into his expression all at once. “Just drop it already!”

At this final, harsh command, Steven found he could no longer argue as he instead pulled the rift even closer to his chest, closing his eyes tightly as he slowly let the bubble disappear, leaving nothing between them and Ford. Nothing that is, safe for the memory gun that was brightly sparking with its erasing light in Dipper’s hands.

“T-trust no one…” he muttered to himself, tears starting to well up in his eyes as he prepared to squeeze the trigger. The author’s own mantra rung true, certainly in a moment like this, when even the person who wrote it himself couldn’t be trusted. And while Dipper had failed before in upholding it, he knew that he wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice, not when so very many things that mattered so much to him were at stake. “Trust no one! Trust-”

“Hand it to me!” Ford demanded, and it was at that moment that Dipper knew he had no choice. On a beat of sheer terror and impulse alone, he squeezed the trigger, the bright beam firing off directly at the author as both boys were knocked back by it. Miraculously, the ray struck Ford clean on his glasses, which reflected it perfectly and sent it bounding across nearly every surface in the entire room. Steven was quick to protect himself and Dipper from it by way of his shield, though as soon as the beam struck it, it ricocheted upwards towards the many screens of Project Mentum, where it finally met its end by breaking every single one of them in the process.

And yet, this brief bout of chaos only gave way to another one. Both Steven and Dipper were quick to act on sheer panic, knowing that Bill could very well still be in control of Ford and out to get them both. Dipper quickly dropped the memory gun and took up the Sword of Seasons instead, yet before he could do anything with it, Ford suddenly grabbed him by the back of his vest, easily hoisting him up into the air. He nearly latched onto Steven’s arm as well, though the young Gem had the wits about him to pull away just in time and run, taking the rift with him. That is, until he heard Dipper’s fearful struggle against the author holding him.

“L-let go of me!” he cried, weakly swinging his sword about in moves that showed no signs of hitting Ford, as far out as he was holding him.

“Dipper!” Steven gasped, stopping dead in his tracks as he hurriedly set the rift aside and ran back towards the action. “W-wait! Stop!” The young Gem cried, completely panic stricken as both the events of a particular puppet show as well as his own haunting dreams the previous night came rushing back to him in an oppressive torrent. “I-I’ll give you my gem! Just please, don’t hurt him again!”

Both Ford and Dipper froze at this, surprised gasps escaping both of them as they looked to Steven with what seemed to be horrified shock. And yet, for as shaken as he was, Dipper used this brief distraction to his advantage, finally landing a blow on the author’s arm with the very tip of his sword. It wasn’t too large or deep of a cut, but it did cut through his coat and sweater and break the skin just enough to catch Ford off guard and force him to drop his nephew entirely. Steven quickly rushed over to him, summoning his shield and tightly grabbing Dipper’s free hand as the two of them stood together, more than ready to defend themselves against the demon who had caused them both so much pain and devastation.

Or, at least they would have been if Bill was actually present there at all.

“N-now, now, just calm down,” Ford advised, his tone much softer as he adjusted his glasses, finally allowing the boys to past the reflective glare. “Look into my eyes, both of you. It’s me, not Bill, I promise you.”

Upon seeing the lack of telltale signs of Bill’s possession, Steven and Dipper both finally let out the heavy breaths they had been holding in, yet even so, they hardly relaxed. Dipper in particular quickly picked up another round of hyperventilating, especially as he caught sight of the bleeding wound torn across Ford’s arm. A wound that he had inflicted.

“I-I… I tried to erase your memory…” he began, quickly dropping the Sword of Seasons as he pulled his hand out of Steven’s. “A-and then I hurt you! I hurt you with the same sword you made for me!”

“Dipper, it’s just a scratch, it’s fine,” Ford tried to reassure as he covered the relatively harmless injury, though his nephew was having none of that amidst his massive wave of guilt and anguish.

“No, its not fine!” he practically shouted, his tears quickly starting to return as he pressed his hands to his head in remnant terror. “I messed up so badly! I used the machine on you without even asking you about it because I couldn’t just wait for you to tell us the truth about you and Bill for yourself! And then I just had to go and make it even worse just by being dumb enough to believe you were possessed by him!”

“Dipper-” Ford attempted to interject once more, only to be drowned out by the boy’s ongoing hysteria.

“W-what was I even thinking?!” Dipper yelled, his hand now pressed tightly against his chest as his breathing grew even more short and frantic. “How could I be so stupid?! Every time I try to convince myself that I actually stand a chance against Bill, I only end up doing is ruining everything and it just keeps happing no matter how many times I try to fix it! B-but… but there just isn’t any way to fix this… There’s no way to fix me…”

Dipper had just about broken down into a remorseful, painful sob, yet before he could fall apart again, Steven quickly rushed in to help hold him together. He stilled, letting out an almost inaudible gasp as the young Gem suddenly hugged him from behind, wrapping his arms tightly yet securely around him in a steadying, comforting embrace. “You don’t need to be fixed,” Steven assured, his voice a gentle, warming whisper as tears started to well up in his own eyes. “You don’t need to fixed because you aren’t broken. You’re gonna be ok someday. We’ll be ok. I promise.”

As overwhelmed by his own many mingling emotions as he was, Dipper didn’t offer too much of a response to this reassurance outside of the small, somewhat weak sob he had been holding back. All the same, he did slowly reach up to place his hands over Steven’s, more than grateful for his support and solidarity in a moment such as this. While he wasn’t entirely certain that he’d actually ever truly be ok as Steven had said, what Dipper did want to believe that he did at the very least have a chance at someday moving past all of this lingering fear and dread. And, with someone like the young Gem standing beside him to keep him standing hopeful and strong, that was a belief that he didn’t have too many difficulties holding onto.

Ford let out a long, remorseful sigh as he watched the boys’ embrace slowly break apart, but even so, he largely averted eye contact with either of them, even as he hesitantly spoke up. “Dipper, Steven,” he began rather pensively, clear shame leaking into his tone as he continued gripping his injured arm. “I… deeply appologize for what just happened. I never intended to frighten either of you. But, I can say that if I really had been possessed by Bill, then you both would have done great, especially you, Dipper. I only wish I had been more like you when I was younger…”

Of course, given everything that had just happened, Dipper was quite surprised to hear such praise coming from the author himself. But Ford’s proud smile and comforting hand on his shoulder was indeed finally enough to put an end to his already fading panic attack once and for all as it gave him the realization that, perhaps this time, he hadn’t really made as momentous of a mistake as he at thought. “T-thank you…” he said quietly, somehow smiling in spite of it all.

Ford returned his nephew’s smile briefly, though all too soon it vanished into a look of shame as he glanced up at the countless images of Bill on the walls surrounding them. “I was a fool to hide all this…” he said, a hint of bitterness in his tone as he shook his head. “The reason why I’ve been trying to prepare you boys for Bill’s tricks is because Bill tricked me. It’s the biggest regret of my life. Bill wasn’t always my enemy, you know. In fact, I used to think he was my friend…”

1981

For six years, Ford’s ongoing research of Gravity Falls and its incredible anomalies had been going strong and steady. With the invaluable help of the Crystal Gems, he had unearthed discoveries that would certainly boggle the mind and ensure him a coveted spot in the scientific community once he one day published his findings. Yet even despite this success, the young researcher still craved to know more; he wanted to know exactly why Gravity Falls was such a hotbed for strangeness, where did all of its bizarre creatures and landmarks originate from, how did such unbelievable things even exist in their world at all?

And yet, for all his wondering and all his theorizing, these were questions that Ford never seemed to find the answers to on his own.

Even despite the Gems’ vast knowledge on the oddities of Gravity Falls, they themselves were plagued by the same questions of their origins as well. Which was why, when the collective group had dedicated themselves to uncovering those answers, they all too quickly hit a stark and heavy roadblock in their research. Weeks of intensive thought and pointless leads had gotten them nowhere closer to discovering the truth, and even despite Rose’s warm encouragement and reassurance, Ford was starting to become rather frustrated by his own lack of any concrete findings. If he couldn’t discover just why Gravity Falls was so strange in the first place, then what was really the point of any of his hard-earned research at all? Without a strong and proven theory to back it all up, certainly no one would ever believe his accounts of the paranormal, downright mythical sights the town had to offer. He might as well have packed all of his things up and headed home, a thought he had considered as his hopes running dryer and dryer by the day.

Until…

In order to clear his jumbled thoughts, Ford had, almost randomly, decided to take a break from his research to go on a calming walk through the woods. Bereft of the Gems by his side as he usually was, the author casually decided to venture down an unmarked path he had never taken before, only to happen upon a mysterious, somewhat darkened cave that had never showed up on any of his maps of the surrounding area whatsoever. Curious, Ford ventured inside, with only his lantern light to guide him, only to find something that left him reeling with amazement. The entire cave was covered in ancient markings that likely dated back thousands of years; though they it was somewhat hard to make out, the writing described a powerful being who possessed the answers to all of humanity’s wonderings. And yet, despite such miraculous claims, the cave markings were also quite grave, with dire warnings against summoning this being lest impending doom and disaster strike. All the same though, Ford was desperate; certainly, if such a being did exist and was as wise as these carvings claimed, then perhaps they might be willing to finally provide him with the truth he so intently craved.

And so, with only slight trepidation, the young researcher read the summoning inscription aloud, only for nothing to apparently happen as a result. Disappointed with what he assumed was nothing more than ancient legends and folklore, Ford left the cave, eventually deciding to take a brief rest under the shade of a tree not too far away. Of course, the young researcher hadn’t expected to doze off in the warmth of the afternoon sun, but he did all the same; and as he did, his dreams provided him with what he believed, at least at the time, was nothing short of a miracle.

Needless to say that Ford was quite amazed upon opening his eyes only to find himself floating amidst a vast, peaceful space-scape, one littered with countless stars, notes, lab equipment and even journals quite similar to his own drifting all around him. The young researcher had no idea what to make of any of this as he began exploring this intriguing space, only to be met by something, or rather someone even more bewildering.

“Hiya, smart guy!” Ford spun around with a gasp upon hearing this unexpected voice echoing through the void, but who he saw was the last thing he could have ever expected. It was a being that was, simply put, a triangle, bright yellow in coloration with only a single slitted eye to emote with and thin black limbs to over the young researcher a friendly wave of greeting. “Whoa, calm down there! Don’t have a heart attack, you’re not 92 yet!”

“W-who are you?” Ford asked, his initial alarm turning into immense curiosity at such a bizarre being.

“Name’s Bill!” he introduced himself brightly with a cordial tipping of his long tophat. “And your name’s Stanford Pines, the man who changed the world! But I’m getting ahead of myself; let’s relax! Care for a game of interdimensional chess?” With a simple snap of Bill’s fingers, a translucent chess board appeared out of midair, along with a comfortable chair on each side of it. “Have a cup of tea!” he exclaimed warmly, materializing a teapot and cup to pour into, one that floated directly over to Ford, who was more than fascinated by this point.

And thus, their friendly game of interdimensional chess was underway, and through it, the young researcher was able to learn a good bit more about his new acquaintance. According to Bill, he was a muse, one who chose to inspire one brilliant mind every century with his boundless knowledge and wisdom. And with apparent excitement in his tone and a playful wink of his singular eye, he cheerfully informed Ford that, impressed by his zeal in researching Gravity Falls, he had selected him to be the one to receive his otherworldly insight next. Of course, the young researcher was elated by such an incredible offer, and, without really thinking at all, he gladly accepted it on the spot.

From that point on, Ford wholeheartedly considered Bill to be his research partner just as much as he did with Rose and the other Gems. And yet, for as excited as the young researcher was by this new alliance, Bill gently cautioned him against informing the Crystal Gems of it, mostly to keep from arousing any distrust or suspicion on their end. While Ford was somewhat confused by this warning, he decided to uphold it nonetheless, for certainly the Gems, as stuck in their rather alien ways as they often were, wouldn’t understand the contract between himself and a higher being such as Bill.

Even so, right from the start, Ford saw the immediate benefits of his newfound deal with Bill. Not too far into their regular meetings within the dreamscape, the triangular being unveiled the very thing the researcher had been looking for: a way to finally answer his longstanding questions concerning Gravity Falls’ weirdness. According to Bill, all of the town’s strangeness leaked into it from another dimension entirely, and the key to discovering that dimension would be by way of a grand gateway, a portal to another world entirely. To this end, he even provided Ford with complete schematics to such a seemingly impossible machine, one that he gladly allowed the researcher to add his own ideas and equations onto to improve it even more. After all, it was as Bill told him: this was how genius happened, and all as a result of a little help amongst friends.

And, for the longest time, that was what Ford fully and fool-heartedly believed.

So construction of the portal began, with the Crystal Gems and Fiddleford to aid Ford on the corporeal end of things while Bill continued to provide his unseen yet very impactful assistance through his dreams. As weeks turned into months, Ford’s determination on the project grew even more determined and intent, especially as Bill regularly reminded him that the portal would certainly give him all the answers he had ever hoped for and then some. To further lend his aid, Bill even volunteered to keep work on the portal going, even when Ford himself was too physically exhausted to persist. By simply allowing his muse to come and go through his mind, possessing him as he pleased, the young researcher saw his productivity practically spike tenfold, pushing progress on the portal along even faster. What Ford didn’t notice amidst his enthrallment with the invaluable help his muse was providing him with, however, were the worried looks Fiddleford often sent his way, the confused whispers between the Gems as they wondered exactly what was going on, the general, unvoiced dread between his other partners in general as they questioned whether or not they were the only ones working with the author on his mysterious portal after all.

And all too soon, they all were quick to discover such worries were not unfounded, in perhaps the worst way possible.

The moment that Ford and the Gems hurriedly pulled Fiddleford out of the finished portal after he was accidentally sucked into it was the moment the author began to suspect something was wrong. However, his alarm only grew when the mechanic and the Gems all angrily quit the project in a huff, leaving him alone with his anxious pleas to Bill, pleas that were only answered by quiet, sinister laughter and a single, ominous message: “The door is open…”

Desperate to know exactly what went wrong, Ford ventured back into the familiar dreamscape him and Bill often met in, determined to get to the bottom of exactly what path his supposed muse had led him on. “Bill!” Ford shouted hotly, rushing towards the triangular being as he lingered before a tear in the space-scape, one filled with vague silhouettes of countless untold nightmarish creatures. “You lied to me! Where does that portal really lead?!”

“Hoho, looks like Mr. Brainiac finally got smart!” Bill laughed deviously as he turned around to face the author, no longer masking his malicious intent. “Let’s just say that when that portal finishes charging up, your dimension is really gonna learn how to PARTY! Right guys?” he asked his apparent ‘friends’ inside of the otherworldly tear, who all simply roared and cackled in a chorus of wicked triumph.

At first, all Ford could do was let out a gasp of shock as he realized just how much of a monster Bill truly was. But blinded by flattery and charming games as he had been, the author had never once considered that the demon planned on tricking him, had been using him as nothing more than a foolish pawn to meet his own destructive ends all along. “N-no!” Ford exclaimed, resolved to fix this incredible mess he had mad. “I… I’ll stop you! I’ll tell the Crystal Gems everything and together, we’ll shut that portal down once and for all!”

“Ha, as if!” Bill rolled his eyes, clearly not taking the author seriously. “You really think Quartzy and those Crystal Chumps are ever gonna trust you again after all this, then you’re gonna be sorely disappointed! All the same, a deal’s a deal, Sixer! You can’t stop the bridge between our worlds from coming, but it would be fun to watch you try! Cute, even!”

At that very moment, Ford awakened with a stark gasp, his eyes wide and his heart racing as he reeled with everything he had just heard. Bill had betrayed him, that much was clear and there was no undoing the massive mistake he had made by even trusting the insane demon in the first place. Which meant that the only thing he could do now was try to minimize the damage before things could get any worse. Acting quickly, the author shut down the portal in the hopes that it would never be active again, lest Bill gain access to the Earth as he so eagerly wanted. From there, Ford quickly filled what he could of his third and final journal with frantic and paranoid warnings concerning the demon and his tricks, even though he planned to hide his research so no one could ever finish the demon’s treacherous work.

And yet, despite these valiant efforts, Bill had been right in the fact that his deal with Ford still very much stood. No matter how much the author tried to protect himself against the demon, Bill still had complete access to his mind, just as they had agreed years ago. Just about any time Ford happened to slip into the depths of slumber, even amidst his growing panic and insomnia, Bill was more than happy to take over, littering the journal with his own inane coded ramblings and even going as far as to injure his pawn just for fun. In fact, it was in the midst of one of these wild spells of possession that Rose herself happened to discover just how much Ford had really been hiding from her all along.

“Stanford?” the pink Gem called as she entered into the author’s secluded study one chilly autumn day months after their own partnership had ended. “Are you in here? I-it’s been a while since any of us have heard from you and I’m starting to worry if-”

Rose cut herself off with a sharp gasp as she finally spotted Ford, digging a knife into his upper arm as he slowly looked back at her with a huge, uncharacteristic grin of sheer, sadistic glee. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about Sixer here, Quartzy!” he quipped in a voice that the pink Gem immediately recognized. A voice she had never wanted to hear ever again. “In fact…” His smirk widened as he pulled out the blood-soiled knife. “I’d say he’s doin’ A-ok!”

“I-it… it’s you…” Rose shook her head in disbelief, her voice but a stunned, genuinely fearful whisper.

“Yep, it sure is me!” Bill exclaimed brightly as he began to walk over to the terrified pink Gem. “Right here in the flesh. Or, I guess in Fordsy’s flesh, but since he did decide to let me in whenever I want, I guess you could say it is mine after all!”

“B-but… but how did you… when did you-”

“Oh, it looks like Sixer really did chicken out about telling you after all, huh?” Bill asked with a knowing glint in his slitted yellow eyes. “Turns out I’ve been the one pulling his strings all along! Dumb old ‘Brainiac’ here let me give him the plans to a certain gateway that I remember someone else promising to build for me way back when. A gateway that’s gonna give me a one-way ticket to your perfect little planet, Quartzy.”

“M-my… t-the portal?!” Rose gasped, overwhelmed with shame and terror at the thought. “N-no… no, you… you tricked him! You tricked all of us, just like you did before! If I had known that you were behind all of this, I would have never allowed Ford to-”

“See, that’s just it, Quartzy!” the demon interupted smugly. “You didn’t know. No one did, and all because it was so easy to get him to do whatever I wanted. Now that I mention it, that sorta sounds like you, doesn’t it? In that case, you really do belong down here with these dumb old humans seeing as how you’re just as empty-headed as any of them are!”

Rose practically had to fight back the urge to draw her sword upon hearing such callous remarks, reminding herself exactly who the demon was possessing at the moment. “G-get out of him,” she ordered as sternly as she could. “Right now.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m leaving,” Bill shrugged casually. “But only ‘cause Fordsy’s about to wake up. In the meantime, have fun dealing with the fact that you’ve basically doomed your precious planet over several times over. See you and that rock you still owe me next time, Quartzy!”

And with that the author’s eyes fell shut, his entire body growing limp as he slipped into unconsciousness. Rose barely managed to catch him before he hit the ground, healing tears already spilling down her cheeks to work on the several injuries Bill had left behind as Ford slowly, painfully awakened.

“Hm… R-Rose?” the author groaned as he opened his eyes to find the pink Gem anxiously hovering over him.

“F-Ford…” the pink Gem whispered, holding back a sob. “Why didn’t you ever tell me a-about… about him…?”

Ford quickly looked away from Rose at this, knowing exactly who she was talking about and not even having to ask how she found out about him. “B-because…” he began, deciding to finally be honest with her. “I was too ashamed to tell you about the terrible mistake I made…”

“No,” Rose corrected, offering a hand to help him up. A hand that seemed to offer so much more than that and then some. “It’s a mistake we made…”

And it was a hand that Ford only barely took. For even though he immediately came clean to Rose about his deal with Bill as well as the demon’s inevitable betrayal right then and there, he still hesitated to trust her any further with helping him in the matter. After all, he had trusted Bill and had seen where that had gotten him. How could he trust Rose, or anyone else for that matter after such a cruel and immense deception?

But in time, he did decide to trust her again, though only for the sake of helping him hide his final journal away. Later he would wish he had only trusted her more, for perhaps if he had, it could have saved him from all of the tragedy and woe that had began following him like a shadow. And yet, he didn’t, deciding to walk alone in his fear and anger and carrying one, single sole resolve all the while.

To stop Bill Cipher’s twisted ambitions. No matter what the cost.

Present Day

“Bill’s been waiting for the gateway to reopen ever since,” Ford finished his lengthy tale, his tone still quite grave as Steven and Dipper tried to take it all in. “All he needs to do is get his hands on the rift. To Bill, its just a game, but to us, it could mean the end of our world…”

“Oh man…” Dipper sighed, shaking his head with immense worry. For so long now he had been preoccupied with the threat that Bill potentially posed to himself and his friends that he had never really even considered just how destructive and devastating the demon’s ends really were. But now, it was clear; if Bill had his way, then certainly nothing would survive, a fact that only served to make both him and Steven alike fear him even more than they already did, if such a feat was even possible.

“Oh man, indeed…” Ford nodded with serious agreement, briefly glaring up at one of the many images of Bill on the surrounding walls. “I know that I might never truly be able to compensate for the foolish error I made in trusting Bill, but I’d still like to think that preventing him from getting that rift is a start. Unfortunately though, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make up for the brief time I actually decided to trust him over Rose…”

“Why not?” Steven asked with a worried frown.

“Well, simply because I never got around to making amends with her,” Ford sighed rather sadly. “I was so consumed by paranoia and dread at the time that the thought never really crossed my mind to just… appologize to her for all that went wrong between us. I chose Bill over Rose and I completely ruined our partnership and our friendship as a result. I’d easily count that as my second biggest regret because now… well, I doubt I’ll ever get the chance again.”

The three of them were quiet for a long time after this, all of them feel rather small under the scrutiny of the eyes of the effigies of dream demon on every wall around them. In time, it was broken, again by Steven, whose voice was small, but sincere as he addressed Ford once more. “I think she would have forgiven you…”

The author couldn’t help but finally smile in spite of this, knowing that, even if that forgiveness hadn’t come from the pink Gem herself, it still felt genuine and comforting all the same. “Thank you, Steven,” he said, choosing to believe that if Rose herself was still around, then perhaps she would have said the exact same thing.

An air of solemnity hung between Ford, Dipper, and Steven as they went upstairs, largely since Project Mentum was no longer a viable option to safeguard them against Bill. Their thoughts and worries were still largely on the dream demon, even as they unanimously decided to take a much needed soda break around the kitchen table in what was initially fretful silence until Dipper ended up breaking it.

“Ugh, I’m still so embarrassed about earlier…” he said, clearly bothered by his burst of blind panic in the study. “I’m such an idiot.”

“No, you’re not!” Steven chimed in earnestly. “You were just scared, we both were! At least this time, if we really had been up against Bill, we would have been able to fight him together. Just like we will next time, right?”

“Right,” Dipper said with a small laugh, truly comforted by the young Gem’s continued reassurance.

“Dipper, I can assure you, you have nothing to be ashamed of,” Ford added just as sincerely. “From now on, no more secrets between us. We’re not the first ‘idiots’ to be tricked by Bill, boy. But if we all work together, then we could be the last. And the same thing goes for you too, Steven. For now, I suggest following what the Gems said to protect your gem from Bill at all costs. I’m still not sure how him getting his hands on it would factor into his plans, but we can only assume that if he did get it, the outcome would not be good.”

Steven simply nodded at this, still resolved to do what he could to keep his gem out of the demon’s possession. Even if he did still secretly wonder if his own mother really was the one to promise it away to him or not…

“But… what about Bill?” Dipper spoke up anxiously. “I broke the machine! Now we have no way to protect the shack or the temple!”

“Did somebody say unicorn hair?!” Mabel shouted as she suddenly burst into the room, slamming down a fistful of shimmering, rainbow-colored hair onto the table. Pearl, Connie, Wendy, Grenda, and Candy all filed in behind her, all of them looking much worse for wear with torn clothes, bruises, scratches and various multicolored unicorn fluids covering them from head to toe. Even so, they all wore bright, satisfied smiles, their mission accomplished and their vengeance against Celestabellebethabelle and her deceitful tricks achieved.

“Um… no actually,” Dipper frowned, pushing Mabel’s hand away as she playfully waved the hair in his face.

“Oh. That would have been perfect,” she shrugged before quickly perking up again. “Either way, we got some unicorn hair!”

“Also some unicorn tears, unicorn eyelashes…” Candy listed before Grenda continued, holding up a large, ornate chest.

“They finally gave us this treasure just to get rid of us!” she proclaimed, dumping the contents of the chest onto the table to reveal a massive horde of gold and jewels.

“Not to mention we got to put a very irritating, very unethical unicorn in her place,” Pearl said, crossing her arms with a smug smirk. “So all in all, I’d say it was a very successful day.”

“Also, a pretty weird one, what with that butterfly sting operation and our all-out brawl with the unicorns,” Connie added, rubbing some unicorn blood off her arm.

“Whoa, that’s so cool!” Steven exclaimed, stars in his eyes as he looked to the girls. “I knew you guys could do it!”

“It… can’t be!” Ford exclaimed, just as amazed as he looked to the plentiful clump of unicorn hair Mabel had gathered. “This is a great day, girls! With this unicorn hair, we should be able to completely shield both the shack and the temple from Bill’s mind reading tricks!”

“Is it ok?” Mabel asked, her tone hopeful as she handed the hair over to her uncle.

“Its better than ok, its perfect!” the author laughed warmly as he placed a proud hand on his niece’s shoulder. “You’ve protected your family and your friends. You’re a good person, Mabel.”

“Aw, thanks, Grunkle Ford,” Mabel smiled, glad to hear it. After all, she’d much rather have the approval and support from those she cared about then some uptight, uncaring unicorn any day. “But today, I’ve learned that morality is relative!”

Before anyone had the chance to question her on this somewhat bizarre life lesson, Stan suddenly rushed into the room, hurrying past the treasure-laden table and grabbing a plentiful armful of it in his wake. “MONEY!” he shouted wildly as Amethyst ran in after him, grabbing yet another load of treasure with a rowdy laugh and another bout of her somewhat botched Spanglish.

“Viva larga CHASH MONEY!”

Not wanting to waste any more time to risk subjecting themselves to Bill’s tricks any further, Ford and Dipper got to work, Steven and Pearl both volunteering to join them in erecting shields around both the temple and the shack. It was a lengthy, somewhat dull process in gluing the long strands of unicorn hair around the foundations of both structures, with the temple in particular proving to be something of a challenge given its large perimeter and odd structure. Even so, as soon as they were done, a magical shield, covered in mysterious protective runes and symbols, bloomed around both buildings before fading back into invisibility, ensuring that them and everyone within them, would be in no danger from the dream demon’s tricks.

“Perfect!” Ford grinned as they finished up on shielding the shack. “This should protect us from Bill. As long as we’re inside either the temple or the shack, our minds—and gems should be safe.”

“What a relief!” Pearl sighed as she placed a hand on Steven’s shoulder. “If only we had something like this 24 years ago. It would have saved us a lot of trouble, to say the least.”

“Well, who knows?” Steven interjected with an encouraging smile. “Maybe now that we have these barriers put up, there won’t be anymore trouble!”

“Yeah,” Dipper agreed, unable to hold back his own allayed grin. True, Ford had said that the protection spell was only a safeguard and not actually a way to vanquish Bill once and for all. But if it truly could give them a much-needed reprieve from the demon’s mental games and relentless tormenting, then for now, it would be enough. “No more trouble. I’d say that sounds like a pretty good deal.”

Unbeknownst to the group standing outside of the shack, they were all being watched by a familiar, singular eye, one that was carefully observing their every move from his home deep within the unimaginable depths of the horrific Nightmare Realm itself. Bill couldn’t help but let out a mocking laugh as the motley crew celebrated their success, success that he knew was only going to be very short lived if he had anything to do about it.

“That’s what you think, Pine Tree,” the demon remarked, hands held behind his back as he finally looked away from his peek at the shack. “Still, I guess if I can’t possess anyone inside the shack or the temple, then I’ll just have to find my next pawn… on the OUTSIDE…”

At this, the demon’s eye rolled back, a variable roulette of people and Gems alike, either in or around Gravity Falls: McGucket, Lars, Candy, Pacifica, Jenny, Tyler Cutebiker, Mr. Smiley, Lazy Susan, Manly Dan, Sadie, Soos, Onion, Peedee, Greg, Robbie, Lolph, Dundgren, Barb, Jamie, Durland, Blubbs, Kiki, Sour Cream, Preston, Priscilla, Toby Determined, Mr. Fryman, Malachite, Nanefua, Lee, Nate, Ronaldo, Blendin, Connie, Shandra Jimenez, Kofi, Kevin, Grenda, Vidalia, Mayor Dewey, Gorney, Tambry, Yellowtail, Buck, Bud, and Wendy. As far as Bill was concerned, any of them would make excellent puppets to use in furthering his sadistic schemes along.

And fortunately for him, he already had the perfect pawn in mind…

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