#for the sake of being au

[nitromemustdie2]

tw: eyestrain

---

yeah bro ur totally doomed

and yeah

this is a nitrome must die pseudo AU fanart

cause we can always contribute AU things about nitrome games

[starry-bi-sky]

There are two things that Damian knows that he knows Father doesn’t.

He has an older brother

He was dead

(And a secret third thing: Damian was glad he was dead. They did not get along.)

Well. No, correction, they were two things that Damian knew that Father didn't. Past tense. Strange magic swirled through the air and created a mirage before his eyes, and immediately a scowl forms across his face.

The mirage shifts and shimmers like the light hitting a slowly turning prism, and then it settles into a memory. One that Damian does not recall. Like looking into a tv screen, it shows, faintly, a room, with most of the magic going into the image of a crib.

His mother was standing on one side, and next to her, standing on his tiptoes was a small five year old boy looking up at her. With dark hair and skin that was only few shades lighter brown than Damian's, the little boy's resemblance to Damian was undeniable.

However, his eyes were blue. Not green. Damian's scowl deepens, and he sinks back. "Danyal." He mutters, and feels eyes turn on to him.

Danyal Al Ghul. Damian's older brother. A prodigal swordsman like Damian, and five years his senior. He'd be fifteen if he was still alive. His memory of the last time he saw his brother was still clear in his mind.

(A sword to Danyal's neck. Stars were glittering through his window. Damian was five, Danyal ten. He is not sure why Danyal had snuck into his room, all he remembers is hearing a sound and on instinct reaching for his sword.)

(His brother had intercepted easily. But had not shoved the sword away. Moonlight hit his blue eyes, and Damian remembers seeing the pupils shrink to let the light in. His eyes looked almost silver.)

(His brother bares his teeth at him. Damian wants to slice his neck more than anything, and he bares his teeth back. "Good." Danyal says, his voice low in a hiss, "Your reflexes are good, little brother.")

("Of course they are," Damian remembers snarling, and presses the sword closer. But it does not budge. "I am an Al Ghul.")

(Something unrecognizable passes through his brother's eyes, and his mouth twists into something like a smile. "I know." He says, and tilts his head downwards at him. "And you will be great.")

(His brother shoves the sword back, causing Damian to stumble. And like the wind, he is gone.)

(The next morning, he goes on a mission with mother and a few others. Mother is the only one to return with Danyal's sword, and a red-eyed look in her eyes. Damian does not mourn. Now there's only one of them.)

"Momma." The little Danyal-mirage speaks, a furrow between his childlike brows as mother lowers a bundle into the crib. His blue eyes watch her, and lifts onto his toes to peer into the crib as she sets the baby down. "Who is this?"

Their mother's hand comes to rest along his back. "This is Damian, my son." She murmurs, voice low. "He is your little brother. Protect him well."

Damian scoffs internally -- not likely. He remembers every spar he ever had with Danyal, every harsh word and insult. His pushing, pushing, pushing for Damian to get up. To try again. Do it again. The only kindness he ever showed him was when his fingers bled. And even that was harsh, firm. Rolling gauze around his wrist and scolding him, telling him how to wield his weapon better.

(It was the same as everyone else, but somehow it hurt worse coming from his own brother.)

But he watches his older brother's youngest self tilt his head to the side, and then reach his chubby hand through the crib's bars. He runs small, blunt fingers over the baby's arm, and the baby jerks. Through the crib's bars, Damian sees himself grab Danyal's fingers.

And he scowls even deeper.

And Danyal's eyes... widen. He lets out a little gasp, and a small smile Damian's never seen him wear tilts at the corner of his mouth as he looks up at their mother. "Mother," he whispers, "he grabbed me!"

Damian... his scowl falters, for a moment.

He doesn't wait for a response, he looks back to the baby with sparking eyes. His expression melts like sugar as he bounces the finger being gripped tight by the small hand. "Hello, little brother." His brother says, voice its of usual firmness, but there's more fondness underlying it than Damian's ever heard. "My name is Danyal."

The mirage shifts before Damian can comprehend his older brother's voice. It shows the crib again, appearing as if a few days had passed. There is night lilting through the nearby window, and a creek of the door. The baby doesn't stir.

Danyal sneaks in, still wearing his training clothes and a sword strapped to his side. Damian's scowl returns, watching him creep over to the crib. Of course -- the last night he saw his brother wasn't the only time he'd snuck into his room.

Would he go so low as to attack an infant? Damian wonders, watching his brother cross the room to his crib. But while his fingers rest against the hilt, they never curl to unsheathe.

His brother peers into the crib again, and there it is again, that smile wider in the corner of his mouth. It's not a full one, but its as uninhibited as it gets. Dripping honey-sweet with awe. "You are so tiny." Danyal whispers, and pokes a finger back through the crib. It wriggles, then pokes Damian's cheek gently. "Was I as small as you when mother gave birth to me?"

There is no response from the baby. Not a coherent one anyways, the little thing snuffles and turns his head, mouth open to latch. Danyal stills, his eyes grow ever wider again.

Danyal says nothing else, just rests his cheek against the crib and watches the baby sleep in silence. The affection never leaves his young face.

Damian feels unsettled. Off-foot. This Danyal is foreign to him... He wonders what happened to have changed his brother's mind on him.

There's a scuffle, quiet, but there. Danyal picks up on it just as Damian does, and his head pricks up like a deer, head already turning away from the crib. The affection leaves his face, falling away like water into something serious. His blade is already slightly unsheathed.

Two assassins, belonging to grandfather, burst out of the shadows. Their swords swinging into the air and ready to strike.

Danyal kills them both, his back to the crib. It's not without struggle, and when the two assassins lay dead on the floor, the baby is wailing at the top of his lungs. Danyal has a laceration cleaving down diagonal of his cheek. It's close to his eye, just barely missed blinding him.

Damian never knew how he got that scar. He does now. (He doesn't know how to feel about it.)

His brother clutches his bleeding face, sheathing his sword as tears well up onto his face. But he turns towards the crib, and hurries over. "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay." He hushes rapidly, the League-drilled seriousness fallen away to reveal a panic-stricken five year old. He sticks one hand into the crib, the one not clutching anything, and grabs little Damian's hand.

Their mother comes bursting in that moment, and Danyal turns his head towards her. "Mother." He says, his voice cracks un-wantingly. Their mother steps over the bodies of the assassins easily. "They tried to kill Damian."

"But they did not." Talias says, kneeling down next to the crib to inspect Danyal's face and Damian's well-being. When she finds nothing of concern beyond the injury, she continues. "You killed them before they could, Danyal. Well done."

The mirage of his brother nods, his eyes teary and red.

Damian... is discomfited. he never thought Danyal would kill assassins for him. He would have thought his brother would sooner look the other way. The mirage shifts again, and it quickly shows time passing.

Danyal sits in Damian's nursery every night, after that. He lays at the foot of the crib with his sword, a pillow and a blanket with him. Some nights there is nothing but peace -- or as close to peace as a baby could achieve -- and some days assassins break in.

Danyal kills each one.

The mirage shifts again, and it shows more memories of Danyal interacting with Damian during his youth too young for him to remember. His first steps, his first words.

"Danya." The small toddler of Damian says, arms reaching for Danyal.

A frown curls across Danyal's face, and pulls Damian into his lap. "No, no, little brother." He scolds, voice firm but.. softer. "It is Danyal, Damian. Danyal."

"Danya!"

Damian's brother sighs, but there is that same-small tilt at the corner of his mouth. A glimmer in his eyes. A glimmer... that Damian is finding he recognizes.

(He always thought his brother got that look in his eyes when he was mocking him. Was he wrong?)

The mirage shifts again, and this time it shows only mother and Danyal, alone. Danyal is older, taller. Seven, if Damian had to guess. Mother has a stern look on her face, her hands tight on his shoulders. "Damian will be starting training soon, my son."

Ah, then close to eight then. Training starts, always, at three years old. He watches Danyal nod, his expression mimicking their mother's. His arms are folded, always folded, behind his back, always neat.

"You can no longer have the relationship with your brother as you did before." Mother says.

Danyal's expression... falters. It shifts, it fluctuates. He looks surprised, thrown off. Like he isn't quite sure he heard what mother just said. His brows furrow. "What... do you mean, mother?"

"I mean what I said, Danyal." Mother says, stern, "Ra's will be keeping a closer eye on Damian now that he is of age to begin his training. He will not like if he sees you both getting along."

"I am sorry, my child. But your relationship with Damian ends here. You are rivals now, not brothers." In a cruel form a gentleness, mother raises her hand and tucks a stray curl out of Danyal's face.

Of course. Damian never had a relationship with his brother because of Grandfather. Of course. No, he's not feeling a little bitter. No. There's not an inner child that still, like a candleflame, wishes that he'd had a bond with his only flesh and blood.

Danyal is dead now. So it's not like it matters. He's happy about this.

Danyal frowns, and he steps back. He looks lost in thought. "We are still brothers, mother," he says, argues, and looks up to meet mother's eyes. "Let me train him, I will make sure he gets the skill he needs. If we must be rivals, then I will teach him how to defeat me. If he can defeat me, he can defeat anybody."

Their mother, and Damian, both blink in unison. Then mother smiles something sharp, calculated. She folds her hands behind her back. "Then do it. But you will make him hate you."

"...So be it."

Damian.... Damian is silent. His world axis has been tilted on its head. He is sliding, and sliding, and sliding down. Spinning. Many things click into place at once.

More memories from the mirage show. It shows Danyal training Damian. It shows their arguing, their bickering. It shows Danyal going to their mother to praise Damian and his skills, how fast he is picking up on the sword. How one day he will surpass even him.

It shows Danyal sitting outside Damian's bedroom door every night, listening in for anyone who dares to break in. His knees drawn to his chest, his sword at his side. Sometimes he sneaks in, sword drawn, when he hears a sound.

Some nights, Damian wakes up. He remembers those nights. Danyal standing over his bed with his sword unsheathed and tight at his side. He remembers the instant terror as he immediately reached for his own weapon.

His brother always scolded him for his lack of vigilance. That had he been anyone else, Damian would have had his neck cut. He would've been dead already. It only made Damian's hatred of him grow.

But he understands now. Because there were assassins in the room that Damian, four years old, three, did not notice. Not until later. He always assumed the attacks on him after Danyal's death had been because now there was a new heir to target.

It had been the only lesson he'd been even somewhat grateful for.

Then finally the mirage shimmers, and it shows Danyal, ten years old, in one of the training rooms, mid-spar with Mother. It's fast, sharp, impressive and like a blur. Damian is unsure if at ten which one of them was the better swordsman. Some of the assassins who have never met Danyal said Damian was, but the ones who had said it was Danyal. He'll never know.

In a lull in the fight, when their swords are crossed, mother speaks. "Ra's wants you and Damian to fight." She says, teeth grit into a deep scowl. The cross breaks and Danyal jumps back, he frowns.

"We have fought, mother." He says, and dives in first, swinging for mother's feet. Mother dodges, and slices at his arm. He swerves out of the way, twisting on his feet like a dance. "We are always fighting, doesn't he see our spars?"

"Not a spar like that, my son." Mother says, a snarl in her voice. She lunges, and Danyal blocks her blade. "A fight to the death. Father has grown tired of having two heirs."

That gets Danyal's attention -- or, more accurately, it distracts it. His eyes widen, and his sword lowers for a single moment. A mistake. "What?" Is all he gets out before mother has him on his back, her blade pressed to his throat.

He freezes. As does Damian. Danyal's brows furrow, then unfurrow, only to knot up again. "Mother, what do you mean a fight to the death?" He flips to his feet when mother removes the sword. She walks over to grab her water.

"Must I repeat myself, Danyal?" Mother snaps, rubbing her forehead before swigging from her canteen. "Father wants to find out which one of you is the stronger heir, and so you will fight to the death after your training in a few days."

Danyal's tan face loses a shade of color, he looks ashy. "There must be some mistake!" He exclaims, his arms gesturing out as he peers around mother. "There is a five year disparity between us, Damian has only just started training two years ago. It would be an unfair fight!"

"Do you think me unaware?" Mother whirls on him, and there is a grief-stricken look on her face. Like she is already mourning Damian's death. Damian feels ill. "Your skill is far beyond what Damian can accomplish right now, and there is nothing that I say that can convince Father otherwise."

Danyal wears an expression like he is scrambling for answers. A white knuckle grip on his weapon. There is a long silence, and his lower lip curls up. His throat bobs, he swallows. "Is there really nothing we can do?"

Mother makes a frustrated sound, pushing her loose hairs out of her face. "Not unless Father changes his mind, or I send one of you away. But Father would surely send someone to look for you or Damian."

"What if one of us faked our death?"

Mother stills. As does Damian. No, he thinks, stiff as a rod, no way. These mirages were lying, nothing but figments of an imagination. Of some quiet what-if that Damian had not yet stomped out.

Mother's expression shifts, and then turns contemplative. Danyal notices, and keeps pushing, he looks as hopeful as he could get beyond his usual unwavering, stone-like expression. "One of us could go to father--"

"No." Mother cuts off, voice sharp. Danyal wilts, confusion flittering across his face. Damian, from the corner of his eye, sees Father tense as stone. His white-slit eyes have not left the mirage. Nobody's has.

"Father will undoubtedly check there first, it would not be a good idea. You or Damian will have to go somewhere where he would not think to look. Someone unaffiliated with the League."

Danyal's face falls, shutters, and then closes up again into stone. Mother begins to pace, and Danyal's blue eyes follow her. "So a stranger?" He asks, and there is disgust lilting into his voice.

Mother nods, and she looks just as offput as Danyal.

The mirage of Damian's brother rolls his shoulders back. "Then I will do it, mother." He says, voice unwavering. There is a stubborn note behind it all, one that Damian recognizes. "I will fake my death, and Damian will stay here."

Mother's eyes turn sharp on him, and she stops in her spot. She pivots. "Are you sure?" She asks, eyebrow raising, "There is a chance you will never meet your Father if you leave. Nor will you see I or Damian again, if you do this."

Something like fear flickers across Danyal's face, eyes widening momentarily -- as if that very thought had not crossed his mind. But then it smooths over to sharp determination. He nods. "It would be the same for Damian if it was him instead. I will do it, Mother."

Damian feels ill again. Father has a strong set in his jaw, his teeth grinding.

Mother stares at Danyal, and then her expression softens. And like before, it is grieving. "In a few days time, I and another member of the League will be going on a mission to the American States. I will tell Father that you will accompany me, once there we will dispose of the other member and then orchestrate your death."

The American States. Danyal was here, in the country. He was out there somewhere -- but no this was fake. It had to be. Danyal was dead. A fool who got himself killed on a mission with mother and left the title of Heir to Damian.

Or maybe it had been his plan all along. His and mother's both.

...Was mother ever going to tell him?

The mirage of Danyal nods, sharp. Understanding. There is a gleam in his eyes that is not pride, it is tears. And when Mother leaves the room and leaves him alone, the stone-like expression on his face crumbles and falls.

His brother, ten years old, curls up his lip in an ugly way. It wobbles as the tears in his eyes do, and he brings up his hand to slam it over his mouth. And sinks to his knees, a yell-like sob muffled behind the skin.

His brother, ten years old, looks smaller than Damian remembers him being, and cries.

Damian has never seen Danyal cry. Not once in the mirage of memories, nor in his own.

The memory holds for a minute, and then disappears. And no new one shows up. The magic is gone, and it leaves a silence in its wake. Heavy, staticky, and full of revelations.

So there are two things that Damian knows that his Father now knows too.

He has an older brother

His older brother is alive.

(And a new secret third thing: Damian wasn't sure how to feel about it.)

[stealingpotatoes]

i have one braincell and it is constantly occupied with the twins going to naboo and meeting padmé's family

(support me on kofi!)

[hinamie]

idc that these chars are featured in this au for a grand total of 3 seconds its who i am as a person i Need to draw them all

jjk atla!au with @philosophiums

[tealgoat]

What’s Odile’s relationship with Loop like in ur au?

Idea and designs from the wonderful @wonder-of-the-stars !!

They get a nice slow friendship as a treat ❤️

Surprisingly being not stuck talking to yourself and only yourself can help a lot

Odile figures out loops whole deal semi quickly and they have a lot of talks

Not necessarily about *the* problem but just problems

[crimsonface]

Kokushibo bonding with his grandsons❓️❗️❓️

Could probably count as kokushibo dad au but also a traitor au, might make a little comic on them in a different format

[son1c]

i sketched a boscage maze shadow to complete my set. this version of shadow takes several... creative liberties... with boscage maze, but i think it works? maybe? let me explain.

so, i like the idea that boscage maze is the result of a science experiment catastrophe. the fallout of the accident mutated all life on earth, creating mega fauna (such as thorn rose’s giant flicky), and killer plants. i’m talking humongous venus flytraps that capture and consume people, vines with minds of their own, etc. obviously, this made earth extremely hostile to regular humans... so they left.

the survivors of the catastrophe boarded the ark and left for space. they had plans to return-- but at the current time, it was simply too dangerous to do so. and they needed to make something that would be able to combat the violent mega fauna. enter... shadow. aka halcyon, as he’s called in this au. halcyon has the ability to drain shard energy, thus un-mutating the corrupted plants and animals, and returning them to their natural state.

unfortunately, the people on the ark thought that the world was still too dangerous for him to return to shortly after his creation, so they put him on ice, waiting for a better time to start their restoration project. before that, though, halcyon grew up hearing all kinds of stories about the way earth used to be... a beautiful paradise, a safe haven in a vast, uncaring universe. his best friend on the ark, maria, also instilled in him one wish: save earth. so that’s what he intends to do.

his bitter enemy is thorn rose, whose goal is to protect the horrible mega fauna. but she just doesn’t understand the harm it’s doing to what was once a peaceful planet. and how could she? she never knew what it used to be.

[rookflower]

wanting good things to happen to a character you like in terms of catharsis or an overall more satisfying narrative is obviously normal and fine and good but some wc fans seem solely fixated on characters "getting what they deserve" to the extent where it comes across more as either them seeing the characters as real life people with feelings or them just not really liking tragedy. which is fine i guess but like i dont really get it lol

[desultory-novice]

「妹弟のためなら、今度はもうちょっと ヒーロらしくなってやろうじゃないか…！」

Making one of these was on my to-do list for a really long time. It's Noir's Star Allies Guest Star Pause Screen!

(Thanks to SkewedCanvas for the template/tutorial)

-

Noir's Field Trip Masterpost

[thelemonsnek]

more from the malevolent au :) at one point arceus and tina take over rei and ingo's bodies and it's verrrry cool and fun (but not for them)

[image id: a sketch page showing designs of Arceus and Giratina possessing Rei and Ingo. "Ingo" now has sharp, long sideburns, mimicking Giratina's mask, and six black tendrils stretch from his back. He is colored in with pure black and red. "Rei" is ghostly and otherworldly, with a halo of light behind him and black outlining his body. His lineart is white, and he is not colored in. There are several sketches showing off the before and afters of both of them, as well as a small doodle of them standing next to each other, with text in all caps reading "pov: you are about to be rended from existence". End id]

[skyloftian-nutcase]

New Zelda idea!

Ok, so this idea has kind of been simmering in my head but it’s getting entertaining now so I’m sharing it.

OC Zelda and Link!

Princess Zelda is a bold and beautiful young woman trying to prepare for ruling her kingdom. She is famous of her commanding personality, for her magical strength which comes as easily as breathing, and for being decisive. When a prophet speaks of impending doom and monster attacks are on the rise, Zelda goes to the Temple of Time with sacred artifacts to utilize the Triforce and stop the darkness before it can start.

However, when she tries to touch the Triforce it shatters into three pieces.

Zelda is stupefied and horrified. Why would it do such a thing? The Triforce only splits for those who are unworthy, and she of all people is freaking worthy ok???

But she isn’t. She’s left with only one piece: Power.

Humiliated but not defeated, she decided that she must seek out the bearers of the other two pieces so they can bring peace to the kingdom. This causes friction with her mother, who has been trying for years to reel her daughter’s pride in.

Zelda: I have to seek them out so I can fix this! Queen: You can fix this by fixing yourself. The Triforce deemed you unworthy, incapable of handling such a task. Zelda: Are you saying that I’m incapable of this? Queen: The goddesses are saying you are incapable.

Least to say, their relationship is a bit strained.

On her journey, she seeks out young men named Link. Legend says that was the hero’s name, and clearly he probably has a way to either help her find the missing Triforce pieces or he bears one of them.

Of course, the problem is that half the kingdom names their sons Link.

Zelda naturally thinks she can figure this out with her powers, so the first Link she finds she basically chaotically strong arms into joining her.

Zelda: So your name is Link, right? Link: Uh… yes, Your Highness. Zelda: Perfect! You’ll help me with my quest. Link: Um… I’m not exactly a hero, Your Highness. Zelda: Nonsense! I can sense the magic within you. You’re stronger than you know. Now, come along, destiny is calling! There is darkness looming and we must stop it. Link: I’m, uh, a masseur. Zelda: Link: Zelda: Well I could use a massage anyway, so come on!

So Zelda and her legendary masseur travel across the land seeking other Links, though none of the others seem to stick like the first one does. Zelda can sense that there’s something different about him, though she doesn’t know what. Maybe the fact that he’s Gerudo makes a difference? Meh.

Anyway, they eventually end up in the Lost Woods because legend claims that the Master Sword is there. Link’s not about this place, naturally, but the pair goes in. They find a dungeon and both nearly die while screaming and holding each other because Zelda relies solely on her magic and Link is… a masseur. But just as they’re about to be killed a man comes in and saves them. He escorts them out, alongside his trusty doggo, and bids them adieu despite Zelda asking him eighty thousand times who he is and if his name is Link.

Yeah, his name is Link. No, he won’t go on your awesome Quest To Save the World. He and doggo are happy in the Lost Woods, thanks. But Zelda is determined, and poor Masseur Link gets dragged into her schemes to try and recruit Mystery Link. He’s a fighter and she can sense something about him too.

Long story short, Zelda has the Triforce of Power, Ganondorf Gerudo Link has the Triforce of Courage, and Actual Mystery Link has the Triforce of Wisdom. Zelda has to learn to become a better, more well rounded person to be able to wield all three pieces. Link the Masseur has to learn to face his people’s past and his legacy. Link the Wanderer has to learn to love life again.

Anyway. Yeah.

[theredcuyo]

Actually, Jason Todd who is alive to the public again and decides that he's going to have the worst, most unhinged persona (with a limit, just so they don't think too much of it)ever so Bruce thinks it twice before dragging him to anything

He's a total mess of a celebrity, Brucie without the Playboy part and instead, he gets on calling out other rich assholes with sass and passive-aggresive talk, like 'Oh, Mrs. Sanders- Ah, right, Miss White, is it now? Sorry, it's hard to keep up with the fift divorce, i imagine you'll put some of the half you got this time to our charity instead of on more wine?' while also acting as a sweet daddy's little boy who can do no wrong and it's just 'trying to make some friends'

He still has the strong moral compass and the sweetheart part of the act, but he can't put that many himbo moments here and there (everyone knew he had good grades and shit, thanks to Bruce 'did you know my son is the smartest ever?' Wayne) but he does nerd literature moments (that aren't even a lie) to throw people who like to show off but don't know shit

So, a lot of people hate him and he loves it

He only slightly changes the act when interacting with children for the fundation and programs you bet your ass he got Tim and Bruce to make, instead of the call outs, he goes for lighthearted irony and talk like 'Oh, You didn't know? I heard that Deliah, yes Deliah Olson, is now going on a grape-candy solo week? Can you believe it? I thought she couldn't like without chocolate!' and ish like that

And what are the adults going to do about it? Call out the son of the richest man in Gotham? The one who to him seems completely innocent? The one, who you know, he lost once and now seems very protective of? Jumping out a window is a faster way to die

Bruce loves him, but he's starting to only take him to the fundation events so he's on his best behavior

[cleo-serotonin]

hear me out, since emma had to give up swimming she decided to take up ice skating ! i feel like it suits her super well, it takes a lot of discipline and grace (classic emma traits) and it could have actually given her development. instead the show shoves *sh d*ve down our throats <\3 also if the ice was uneven/melty she’d just slyly freeze it. she’s a super athletic person she would definitely need something to fill the void and this way she could stay active and sweat wouldn’t be a problem

[missbluesunflowersstuff]

"Dick was an abusive brother to Jason" "Dick was aggressive with Jason" "Dick gave Robin to Damian" "Damian stole the Robin mantle" my brother in Batman, no one of those words are in the bible! Wtf are you into about?

[fistfuloflightning]

some sketches for an old au of mine, where Maeglin survives Gondolin and flees from Morgoth’s forces hunting him. He has a run in with the Feanorians in one of the elven cities and is recognized as an Angband thrall/spy. To save his own life, he bargains with his ability to recreate Angrist and to share what plans of Morgoth’s he’d been privy to.

Vibes partly inspired by this track from Rurouni Kenshin

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

Bill finishes the Theraprisim and gets reborn as a fucked up kitten that ends up sopping wet from the rain and missing an eye (for the obvious reasons of making him look like himself and also, strays have it hard) on the Mystery Shacks porch one summer where Mabel scoops him up and declares him her new best friend, Waddles’ new baby brother, and Mr. Bumbernsazzle

One vet visit and bath later the Mystery Shack has a new cat with yellowish-orange fur and one eye that always scratches at Dipper and gives him cats scratch fevers when he’s not walking under Fords every step or loafing on the journals