#or talk about just this chapter maybe. i might do some research or something

[punctuation-completionist]

going to pick up my ten milligrams of semicolons the doctors prescribed me

. , :

3/22

[ckret2]

Chapter 40 of human Bill Cipher, in spite of his fondest hopes, still being stuck in the Mystery Shack:

As much as Gideon wants out of the evil magic game, the survival of his father's used car dealership rides on Gideon's help.

And, relatedly, Bill's started receiving psychic car commercials.

1981

Ford had been in his study for what felt like forever, staring at the pile of papers and numbers on his desk, trying to stop the figures from shifting and swimming before his eyes; when something from behind him lit up the dim room with golden light and he a heard a familiar voice behind his shoulder—

"Heeey, Stanford! You've been having a lot of dreams about tax forms lately, what gives?"

Ford was startled out of his thoughts. He turned around, smiling in relief. "Oh, Bill! Hello." Apparently he was dreaming. Thank goodness. It explained why he couldn't seem to get these forms to make sense. "How long have you been watching me?"

"About twenty years."

"What?"

"About twenty minutes," Bill said. "I wasn't going to bug you tonight, but usually your dreams are a little more adventurous! You're starting to worry me, kid." He disintegrated the tax forms with a gesture and floated down to sit on Ford's desk, like a razor-thin glowing paperweight. It was strange to see him cross his legs. "What's on your subconscious?"

Ford hadn't thought his Muse cared that much about his day-to-day human troubles. It was comforting to know someone was worrying about him—someone so far beyond human potential that maybe Ford didn't have to worry he'd be disappointed to learn Ford was struggling a little. "It's my grant money," he sighed. "I feel like my research into Gravity Falls is nowhere near completion, but that money will only last for so long. It won't be long before I'll need to ask for more funding, and I'll have a hard time convincing anyone if I don't have anything to show for it, but I don't want to share incomplete research..."

"Ah, money. The second-worst curse human society's ever inflicted on itself."

"What's the worst one?"

"Marriage."

Ford barked a laugh. It wasn't even that funny a joke; it was just such unexpectedly human cynicism for such an otherworldly entity. It sounded like a joke Ford's dad would make.

"Well, money. What to do..." Bill drummed his fingers on Ford's desk, gazing off into the distance as he thought. Ford realized that, at some point while he was distracted, most of his study had vanished, leaving his desk and chair sitting precariously atop a faint gridded plane in the starry blue void where he usually met Bill. Finally, Bill said, "Have you considered buying gold?"

He hadn't. "Will it help?"

"Sure it will! Eventually!"

"In time to help pay my mortgage?"

"Hmm." Bill thought a moment longer, then snapped his fingers. "Got an idea." He floated off of Ford's desk to eye level, strange sigils appearing in white-blue light around him. "Do you happen to know where the people who decide your funding live?"

"Er... the general area." It had to be near the Backupsmore campus, didn't it?

"Then I might be able to help you!" The symbols solidified around Bill. "I know a little spell to help persuade people. It'll let you plant ideas in their dreams—give 'em a little subliminal nudge. It could make some bigwigs come around on the importance of the research you're doing out here."

A fascinating concept. Ford studied the sigils greedily. He didn't recognize them, but they looked fairly simple. "You're not... talking about mind control?"

"Nah, that's not in my wheelhouse. It'll just let you... talk to them! Like I talk to you! I'm not controlling you, am I?" His eye curved up in a facsimile of a smile. "But you'll find most people have a harder time ignoring you when you're talking to them inside their own heads. What they do with that when they wake up is up to them. Just think of it as a way to schedule an interview where you'll have their undivided attention."

Ford pressed his lips together as he thought; then shook his head. "Thank you, Bill, but no. I wouldn't feel right earning money that way. I'd rather know they were impressed by the scientific and historical value of my work—and if I use magic, I'll never know for sure if they really thought my work measured up."

Bill laughed. "That's what I like about you, Stanford! You really shoot for the stars—and you've got the work ethic to get there! You don't want the fame and fortune unless you earn it!"

Ford was momentarily taken aback. It was rare that his muse openly complimented him; on most nights he dealt with Ford with a sort of cool, detached fondness, something a little too distant to be real affection. When he did voice his approval, it was like the sun coming out after a month of cloud cover. There were nights, when Ford was really feeling his isolation in these woods and he'd half convinced himself all his years of research had been a waste of time, when he was half willing to chase that sunshine to the ends of the earth.

"You'll do whatever it takes to finish your research, won't you?" Bill asked.

Ford gave Bill an awkward, self-conscious smile. "Of course I will. How could I not?"

"Hey, not everyone has your ambition! Most people take the easy way to the top. Cheating, copying, riding on greater men's coattails... Some guys earn the dough to buy their gold, others just want to dig for someone else's." Bill spread his hands in a shrug. "Well, it was an idea." The sigils started to fade.

Ford raised a hand. "Hold on. I don't want to use it, but... do you think I could learn that spell anyway?" He smiled hopefully. "For research?"

"For fun?"

"For fun."

Bill laughed. "I was waiting for you to ask!" The sigils reappeared, and next to them appeared an incantation. "All right, I'll walk you through it. Pay attention, I don't think you've got enough time to go over it twice this REM cycle."

Ford nodded, focusing fully on Bill, determined to remember the spell well enough to record it in Journal 2 when he woke up.

####

Spring, 2013

Tentatively, Bud Gleeful said, "Son... now, I know you lost that spooky grimoire of yours. But... don't you have anything left that might help out the dealership?"

Gideon growled in irritation. "I told you, father! Everything I knew was in Journal 2! It's gone! Anyway, I'm just trying to be a normal kid now. I don't want to get mixed up in any more magic. I'm through with it."

"I understand," Bud said, nodding. "And I think that's mighty admirable of you, turning over a new leaf like that. Shows real maturity." He hesitated, wringing his hands together. He pre-emptively winced and said, "But it's just that... business hasn't exactly been booming, ever since your little tenure as Bill's sheriff. And you know I love the fellas you made friends with in the penitentiary, they're all such... colorful characters; but having them hang around does make folks a little wary to drive into the parking lot..."

Volume doubling, Gideon snapped, "Are you saying it's my fault?!"

"No, son, no. You know I'd never." Bud knelt down, and—cautiously, like he was trying to pet a feral cat—put a hand on Gideon's shoulder. "But, well... business is slumping, that's all. We'll be fine as long as we live within our means, don't you worry about that—but our means might not cover luxuries like those fancy suits and fine new boots you like so much, you understand."

Gideon lowered his gaze, tugging self-consciously on the sleeve of his favorite suit jacket. It was already just a little too short to be fashionable; he probably didn't have long until he outgrew it completely.

"Your mother and I are doing all we can," Bud said. "If there's anything you can do... well, you don't have to, of course. But—it'd be a mighty big help."

Gideon grit his teeth, glaring at his feet. (How long until he outgrew all his shoes? He had a growth spurt coming "any day now," he'd been told. The prospect didn't excite him.) He balled his hands into fists; and then muttered, "There... might be one spell I remember... the sigils were pretty simple..."

####

June 2013

Bill could see it in his mind's eye: if he kept pushing and pushing eventually there'd be no more room in two dimensional space for his mother to fill, and then she'd be forced to bend UP, up into the third dimension, all that open free space. Then she'd see the dark, she'd see the far points of light—

"STOP!" His mother howled in pain. He kept pushing. She was out of room. She didn't bend up. He shoved—and she splintered. Bone snapping, cartilage tearing, he could see inside her thin body as things broke and ruptured. He didn't know what to do.

And for several long, long seconds—he couldn't remember what was happening. The world seemed to bend wrong, and he couldn't remember.

At least, he couldn't have remembered a few weeks ago. He hadn't wanted to. But he'd been studying a book on lucid dreaming since then; and the first things it taught was how to remember more of his dreams. And now, he recalled exactly what happened next when he pushed his mother and she splintered and ruptured:

He pushed harder.

Her skin fractured and peeled off, strand after strand. It filled the spaces between his fingertips, wrapped up his arms. He could shut his eye but he still saw it through his eyelid, still felt it tickling at the corners of his mouth. 

"You want me to tell everyone the third dimension's full of dead shapes?! Huh?!" All he could see was blood and bone and peeling skin. "Then why don't you go find them for me!" He let out an angry, hysterical, broken laugh.

Her hand grabbed weakly at his.

He let go and jolted back, gasping—and almost retched. What had he done? He hadn't meant to. But he'd kept pushing—but it was too late by then. It was too late by then, wasn't it?

"What have you done?"

Bill whirled around to face— "Dad?"

The green trapezoid looked as sick as Bill felt, eye darting in horror across the crumpled line in the corner. He couldn't even see most of it from where he was—his eye didn't work like Bill's, he couldn't look through the mess of skin to the gore beneath.

"It was an accident," Bill whispered. (He'd kept pushing.) "It really was, I promise."

His father tore his eye from the corpse to Bill's face. "What are we going to tell your followers?"

Bill looked past his father. Through a wall so thin Bill almost couldn't see it, hundreds upon hundreds of shapes were settled, waiting—to see him. He was sure: somehow, somehow, they could see him too. They knew what he'd done. His life was over.

A thunderous voice boomed, "Whooee, what a fix! Boy, you look like you could use a getaway car, couldn't you?"

Bill blinked. He blinked again. He looked up-but-not-north.

A human in a pink Hawaiian shirt, standing on top of the universe, looked down at him.

Bill said, "What."

"Here, let me just—getcha right—" The human plunged his hand through the second dimension, scooped beneath Bill, and popped him right up off the surface of the universe. "Now, if you'll pardon my saying so, you look like you could use a little help getting somewhere far, far away from here!"

Bill stared at him. "What."

"And I've got just the thing to help you!" the human declared. "Aren't you feeling stuck? Trapped? Just can't take your obligations anymore? Miserable you can't hit the road and see all of—well—" he gestured vaguely out at the flat surface of the universe stretching into the distance "—whatever this is? Then you need to visit your buddy Bud Gleeful—(that's me)—at Gleeful's Auto Sales, the finest used car dealership in Roadkill County! We'll get you a set of wheels that'll carry you on the cross-country police-evading tour of your dreams!" He dropped his voice and murmured to Bill from behind his hand, "Warranty expires at the state line."

"What." Bill looked down at the universe—and was disappointed but not surprised to see he wasn't a triangle anymore, but a human. He looked at Bud again. "Are you advertising to me. Is this an advertisement. Am I getting advertised to in my sleep."

"And if you sign before you leave, we'll throw in a free air freshener," Bud added.

Bill stared at him in horrified amazement. "I am going to kill you," he said. "And then I'm going to wake up and kill you in real life."

"Ah, well. That's a right shame."

####

Bill shot straight up with a roar of rage. "Oh, when I get my hands on...!"

"Whoa. Bad dream?"

Bill whirled around with a murderous glare. Dipper's spirit, ghastly and pale, was hovering in the middle of the attic. Bill snapped, "You're a bad dream!" He scrambled after the spirit.

"Whoa! Hey!" Dipper tried to swoop away from Bill toward the stairs.

Bill caught him by the back of the neck. "You are going back in your bo—bed, you're getting in, and you're not getting back out."

"Ow, let go!" Dipper squirmed in Bill's grip, kicking his feet in the air. "I was just going to turn off the TV! I heard it playing an advertisement, I think that's what put me in... you know." He gestured at himself. "The sleepwalking dream."

Bill hesitated in front of the kids' door. "What advertisement?"

"I don't know, it was too far away to tell. But I know it was an advertisement, it sounded... advertise-y."

"Hmm." Bill considered that. And then he flung Dipper's soul through the door.

"HEY!"

"I'll turn off the TV," Bill said. "Go back to sleep!"

Ugh. Everything ached, his stomach was trying to turn itself inside out in an attempt to escape and go forage for food independently, and the world held a vindictive grudge against Bill personally. He trudged downstairs, muttering crabbily to himself.

He wasn't surprised to discover the TV was off.

####

"I'm conducting a survey," Bill said. "Did you hear any advertisements from the TV last night? Maybe have any dreams that might have been influenced by hearing an ad?"

"Uh..." Soos slowed at the bottom of the stairs as he thought. "Nope. Slept like a baby all night."

"Interesting." He waved at Melody to try to catch her attention. "Hey, how about you?"

"Nope!" Already dressed for work, she hurried from the stairs to the living room without even glancing Bill's way. She tended not to linger when he was nearby. He told himself he was flattered.

"Dude," Soos said, "What happened to your arm?"

Bill looked down. On the underside of his forearm were two thick lines set at an angle, burned so dark brown they were nearly black. "Leaned on the stove after someone used the burner. Oops."

"Do you need...?"

"Don't worry about it, it's already healing." Bill rolled down his hoodie's sleeves as he leaned into the kitchen, "How 'bout you, Stan? Hear any phantom ads last night?"

"Nuh-uh. But I sleep with my hearing aids out," Stan said. "The only things loud and grating enough to wake me are a car horn or your voice."

"Ha!" Bill looked from Stan's side of the table to Ford's—and Ford wasn't facing him, but he was glancing from the corner of his eye toward Bill's arms.

Bill turned away without asking anything. No point. Obviously, Ford had been too far underground to have picked up anything. Bill told himself Ford was seething at getting the cold shoulder.

"What're we talking about?" Mabel asked, coming downstairs with Dipper close behind.

Bill looked at her—and then let his gaze sweep past her with the same cold disinterest he'd favored Ford with. He brushed past her to head upstairs. "Hey, somnambulist." He shoved Dipper's hat down over his eyes as he passed. "TV was off. No one else heard anything. You dreamed your stupid ad."

"Hey." Dipper pulled his hat back up. "Jerk."

Mabel called, "Bill?"

He ignored her and kept walking.

####

"What was that all about?"

Bill was curled up in the attic window seat, flipping covetously through an issue of Gold Chains For Old Men; at the sound of Mabel's irritated voice, he merely said, "Oh, hello." He turned another page. "Here to try to make a fool of me some more?"

She planted her hands on her hips. "Bill, what are you talking about?"

"Tell me about those 'Mysteries' of yours. Did you plan your story any deeper than that? Were you going to arrange for me to catch you with a cloak and dagger just to make me wonder?"

Mabel paused. "Oh." She laughed weakly.

"So how many people were in on it, huh? Was it just you and Stanford, or did you have the whole house laughing at me behind my back?"

"It—it was just us two." She leaned on the wall by Bill's feet. "Um, so... are you actually mad?"

He shot her a venomous look, then lifted his magazine so he couldn't see her any more.

"Come on!" She poked his knee. "It was a harmless prank! And you lie to everyone all the time."

"No I don't."

"You're so sensitive."

"I am not," Bill said indignantly. "I'm proud. I have pride. And lately pride's about the only thing I have going for me. And I didn't think a friend would try to undermine it."

Mabel heaved a sigh. "Okay, all right. Sorry."

Bill lowered his magazine to peer at her skeptically. "Are you really?"

"Well, yeah." She leaned against the window seat. "It was just a joke, I don't wanna hurt your feelings."

He stared her down a moment longer, assessing her sincerity. And then he sat up and pulled her into a hug.

She squawked in surprise, but returned the embrace. "Bill! What—?"

"You're sweet, you know that, star girl?" He gave her one last squeeze and let her go. "When you aren't trying to make me look dumb. But you don't rub salt in the wounds, that's what matters."

"Pfff. I kinda think you'd try to kill me if I did."

"Mmyeah, I might." He wouldn't. Only person in this entire dull rotten world who was willing to apologize for wronging him. He wasn't giving her up easily. "Hey—did you happen to hear any commercials last night? Maybe have any dreams that might've been caused by one?"

"Nope! I had a dream about cats fighting a war against an octopus."

"Oh, that one. Did the octopus win or did the lions show up in time?"

Mabel paused. "It's always creepy when you do that. But the octopus won this time."

"Aww. That poor picturesque beach town."

"I tried to get between the octopus and the town when the cats failed."

"Did you stop it?"

Mabel shrugged. "Dunno. I woke up before it reached me."

"Too bad! But hey—you've been making big progress with your lucid dreaming. You'll get it next time!" No salesmen offering cars as war chariots for the cats, though. It was almost a pity. Bill would've liked to hear about Bud getting eaten by a giant octopus.

"So I guess Dipper was the only one who thought he heard a commercial."

Dipper and Bill. "Guess so."

####

The large, empty floor room, down the main hallway at the far end of the house, was among the few places Bill was allowed to go. Except when the humans had some big event like a dance or a museum exhibit planned, there was nothing in it but a flat old sofa, a fireplace he couldn't turn on, and Soos's electric piano taunting him. In spite of its relative isolation from the rest of the household, Bill rarely had reason to visit it.

But when he wanted space to pace and think, there was no better room.

Last night's advertisement was magic, no doubt. And he suspected he knew the exact spell. The Mystery Shack was way on the outskirts of Gravity Falls; probably nobody else here was affected because they were just out of range of the signal. The only reason Dipper had nearly picked it up was because he didn't have his thick skull in the way when his spirit was out of his body.

But Bill's psychic abilities had been heavily suppressed since he was put in this body. How was he channeling the signal so much more clearly than anyone else?

He thoughtfully ran his tongue over his new golden tooth. "Hmm."

####

Bud entered the Gleeful house flipping through a pile of mail. "Junk, junk, bills, junk... Here's your subscription, honeybunch." He held out an issue of Nervous Wrecks Weekly magazine. His wife paused her cycle of polishing the front window to stiffly take it.

"Junk, coupons... Gideon! You've got a fan letter!" He checked for a stamp indicating the tiny envelope had passed through a state correctional facility. "And it isn't even from the prison, isn't that nice!"

"Coming!" Gideon ran out of his room, snatched the letter from Bud's hand with a little grunt, ran back to his room giggling, and slammed the door.

Bud chuckled. "Joy, sweetie, you remember when that boy got so much fanmail he used to throw it out? These days he's excited for every single letter." The corners of his mouth turned down. "Suppose it's good for him, learning to appreciate the little things."

"Mhm." She looked down at the roses outside the window. She'd need to trim those soon. "I suppose it is."

In his room, Gideon studied the odd envelope. It was tiny—barely large enough for the address and the stamp, no return address—and when he turned it over he discovered lines of text printed on the paper. The flap was tucked carefully into a fold in the envelope that held it tight.

As he pulled out the flap, he realized that the envelope wasn't held together with glue; it was some sort of cleverly-folded origami craft that began to unfold in his hands as he pulled out the flap. The letter was written on the inside of the envelope. "Why—what a delightful little creation!" He sat at his dressing table to focus on unfolding the letter, careful not to damage it so he could re-fold it later.

Once he'd smoothed it out, he could see that the paper was carefully torn from a book. The outside of the envelope was made from the last page of a chapter, with only a few lines of text at the top of the page and the rest left conveniently blank. It talked about telling the difference between waking and dreaming.

He turned the page over to read the letter.

GIDEON–

IT'S ADORABLE THAT YOU'RE USING A DREAM COUNTERFEITING SPELL FOR CAPITALISM! I BET YOUR PARENTS ARE PROUD! HOWEVER, MY FILLINGS ARE PICKING UP AUTO DEALERSHIP ADS ALL NIGHT. IT'S REALLY ANNOYING. CUT IT OUT.

In place of a signature, there was a triangle with an eye.

Gideon's blood ran cold.

He read the letter again, then studied the words themselves. He didn't recognize the tall, thin, crooked handwriting. He flipped over the envelope. No return address. He noticed for the first time that the letter wasn't addressed to "Gideon". It said "STAR BOY". Fan mail. Right.

The postmark was from Gravity Falls.

"It can't be Bill," Gideon muttered to himself. "Bill's dead. It's got to be some prankster with a twisted sense of humor..."

But then, how could some prankster know he was doing dream magic? Did anyone else even know that Bill had called him "Star Boy"?

No. It had to be a prankster. If Bill were alive, he'd be doing much worse than sending letters and complaining about fillings.

He crumpled up the letter and threw it away. His father's business needed Gideon to do whatever he could to help. Gideon's own financial future depended on it. He wasn't about to let some prankster stop him.

####

There was a rumble of several motorcycles and a revving car engine outside the Gleeful house, disturbing the late evening still. Gideon came in the front door wearing a little backpack, waving behind himself as he came in. "Thanks for the ride, Ghost-Eyes! Good talk today! I'll see y'all this weekend for brunch!" He shut the door as the engines receded into the distance.

"Welcome home, son," Bud said from the couch. "How were the ex-convicts this week?"

"Oh, great, just great. Graybeard's daughter is gonna let him meet his grandson and Spiderwebs got a new job."

"Oh, that's wonderful to hear. I know you were real concerned for Spiderwebs."

"I shouldn't have worried! He got work at an alpaca ranch on the other side of town, did you know there's an alpaca ranch 'round here?"

"Can't say I did!"

"I think it's a good fit for him. Being out in nature calms him down."

An uneasy silence fell over the room as they waited a polite amount of time to change the topic. In the kitchen, Joy cleaned the same dish for the third time.

Bud cleared his throat. "Well, uh—you know, it's been a couple of days since we've run a 'nighttime ad.' Do you think it's a good time to...?"

Gideon squeezed his backpack's straps. He could still see that spindly text reading "STAR BOY". "Do you think? I don't want to put 'em too close together, folks might notice..."

Bud grimaced. "It can't hurt. It's been almost two weeks since I sold a car."

Gideon scowled. But he nodded. "Yeah, all right. I'll go set up."

"You know how much your mother and I appreciate it," Bud said. "I'll go heat up dinner."

Gideon went to his room, tossed his backpack on his bed, rolled out the tarp on which he'd drawn the circle and sigils in permanent marker, and set up the candlesticks and candles around the perimeter. His father called him to dinner; they watched an evening talk show; and after a little more dawdling, they figured it was late enough that most folks would be asleep, and went to Gideon's room to get to work.

As Bud awkwardly lowered himself to sit in the circle and Gideon lit the candles, Gideon asked, "Father, do you ever... remember who you talk to? I mean, whose dreams you're in?"

Bud considered that, pursing his lips. "No, can't say I do. It's a bit like I'm dreaming myself," he said. "And it's sort of a jumble of a few hundred dreams, too. Like I'm visiting the whole town at once. All I can recall is a blur!"

Gideon frowned. "I see."

"You sure you don't want to be sitting in the circle this time?" Bud asked. "I'd bet if folks saw you in their dreams telling them to buy a car, why, they'd just rush right down."

These days, Gideon wasn't so sure. Sourly, he said, "I don't want to get involved." He'd gotten enough of starring in his father's car commercials when he was younger. He'd thought he'd escaped that completely when he picked up the telepathy act; he didn't relish the thought of using telepathy to star in another car commercial.

"All right, suit yourself. Just keep it in mind." Bud got as comfortable as he could on the floor and shut his eyes.

Gideon took a deep breath and began chanting: "Dreamers, hear me, from far far away; tonight you'll dream of what I say; dreamers, hear me, from far far away; tonight you'll dream of what I say; dreamers, hear me, from far far away..."

The flames flickered and turned bright blue. A purplish shimmery light surrounded Bud; and as Gideon kept chanting, the light expanded to the edge of the circle and beyond, creeping across the floor, over the bed—

A shrill wail filled the room. They both started, losing their concentration. The wail persisted several seconds before it resolved into a eardrum-bursting roar of words: "HI I'M SCOUT YOUNGER AND I'M IN A PICKLE SO YOU CAN DRIVE FOR A NICKEL! I'VE GOT SO MANY CARS I DON'T KNOW WHERE TO PUT 'EM! SO WE'RE GIVING THEM AWAY FOR FIVE CENTS, THAT'S RIGHT FIVE CENTS! SCOUT YOUNGER, I'M A DEALER BY THE PEOPLE FOR THE PEOPLE—"

"Dagnabbit," Bud shouted, "that's the man undermining my no-barter-for-a-quarter deal and getting all my business! He's halfway to Portland—but darn it, his commercials are so catchy!"

"—THAT'S YOUNGER PATRIOT CARS, ON THE NORTH SIDE OF INTERSTATE—" The commercial was cut off with a clap of thunder that made them both jump again.

And before the dying rumbles of the thunder had fully faded, a second voice spoke—a high-pitched, furious shriek that Gideon hadn't heard in nearly a year but instantly recognized: "SEE HOW YOU LIKE GETTING USED CAR ADS SHOVED DOWN YOUR THROAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, YOU LITTLE TWERP. THIS IS MY FINAL WARNING!"

There was another crack of thunder; and then nothing.

Nothing but a faint, muffled, mechanical whir coming from Gideon's bed.

Slowly, Bud said, "Is that...?"

Gideon looked under his bed; then on top, tugging over his backpack and unzipping it; and he pulled out a still-running cassette tape player. A complicated sigil was painted on top of the player and stretched over the play button, glowing shimmery purple as though it had absorbed the magic from Gideon's spell.

Bud took the tape player, stopped it, rewound a bit, turned down the volume dial, and hit play: "—your throat in the middle of the night, you little—"

He stopped the tape. He and Gideon looked at each other.

Bud said, "Don't tell your mother."

####

"Third lap!" Dipper crowed as his car zoomed over the line on the digital racetrack. "You'd better catch up fast!"

"Aw, c'mon," Mabel groaned. She tilted her body along with her game controller as she steered her car around a tricky curve, as though that would help her go a little faster. "No fair, I'd be winning if you didn't throw a goose at me—"

"Pff, shut up, you always use the goose."

Bill was sitting cross-legged on the floor, watching the fish tank—as far as either Dipper or Mabel could tell, having a staring contest with the axolotl—but without breaking eye contact with the tank, he leaned over to elbow Dipper's knee. "Hey kid. Go left."

"What? No, shut up." Dipper tried to kick Bill's arm away.

"Go left. Trust me, it's a hidden shortcut."

"No! You're not even watching."

"I'm psychic. Go left."

"No." Dipper jerked his car to the right. It drove off the track and landed in quicksand. "Aw, man—"

"YES!" Mabel sailed past him. A fanfare played as she crossed the finish line. "The winner! Woo-woooo!"

Bill beamed as Dipper glared at the side of his face.

Somebody knocked on the door—and kept knocking, frantically hammering for attention. Dipper and Mabel looked over.

Bill glanced over, rolled his eyes, said, "You don't want to answer that," and looked back at the fish tank.

Dipper glared at him again, stood, and went to answer the door, Mabel close behind. "Hel— Gideon?"

"Told you," Bill muttered.

Gideon was sweating, panting, and wild-eyed with panic. "Mabel! Dipper!" He paused to give Mabel a sweet smile. "Hi Mabel~♡" And straight back to panic. "We've got a problem! I know y'all don't want me 'round here, but—but this is an emergency!"

Dipper glanced at Mabel. She sighed, but reluctantly stepped back to let Gideon in. "All right. What is it?"

"I know I sound insane, but—but you have to trust me," Gideon said. "I don't know how, and I don't know why, but Bill Cipher's back! I'm sure it's Bill, it can't be anyone else, he... he knows things only somebody with his powers could know!" He paced anxiously in front of the twins, "He's been sending me threatening mail and harassing me and—and I don't know what he's up to, but we've got to find him and stop him! You've gotta help me!" He grabbed Dipper's arms. "I think he might be trying to kill my family!"

Dipper and Mabel turned to glare at Bill.

He was determinedly studying the fish tank.

"Hey, Goldie," Dipper snapped.

Bill glanced over with an expression of mild interest. "Hm?"

"Gideon here says that Bill's been harassing him," Dipper said. "What do you think about that."

"Oh wow," Bill said, extremely unconvincingly. "That's so crazy. I can't even believe it."

Gideon's anxious gaze darted past Dipper and Mabel. "Who's...?" He thought he remembered seeing that stranger around Wendy.

Dipper stepped between their line of sight. "Thanks, Gideon. We'll handle this... problem."

The stranger got to his feet and sauntered to the entryway. "Hey Gideon. Just out of curiosity, what were y—"

Mabel cut in, "Bye, Gideon!" She tried to push him toward the door. "We'll see you later!"

The stranger leaned over Gideon, planting a hand on the doorframe. "—what were you doing that got on Bill's nerves so much, I wonder—"

"Shhh!" Mabel tried to push Bill away.

Had Gideon not heard the voice so recently, he might not have noticed anything odd about the stranger in front of him. But as it was, a chill instantly ran up his spine. He slowly looked up. The menacing smile was unfamiliar, but the eye... something was wrong with that eye. The longer he stared into it, the more he could see the cruel, mad, golden inhumanity.

Gideon squealed in terror and bolted out the door. 

Dipper squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. "Seriously?"

Mabel chased after him. "Gideon! Gideon wait!" She caught up with him rounding in front of the gift shop and had to tackle him into the dirt.

"Get offa me! You're working for him, you traitor—"

"Gideon, listen! We're not working for him, he's our prisoner!"

"Oh." Gideon stopped struggling. "Well, that's a different kettle of corn, isn't it."

Mabel sighed in relief. She backed off Gideon, but had to hold his ankle to make sure he wouldn't bolt again. "Okay, look. We don't know how, but Bill's stuck in a human body, and he's got no powers."

"How do y'all know he isn't faking it?"

"Because he tried to kill us and we beat him up." She winced. "We've... kind of beat him up a lot."

Gideon nodded. "O... okay."

"But you can't tell anybody," Mabel said. "If there's an angry mob or something and he gets executed, the real Bill might hatch from his body like an egg and he'll take over the town again!"

Gideon shuddered. He could almost still feel ache in his legs and the blisters on his feet under the adorable sparkly pink shoes.

"So he's fine here with us. We've got everything under control, he's not dangerous like this—" Mabel turned around to shout, "—and HE SHOULDN'T BE SENDING THREATENING LETTERS, BILL."

Bill's voice drifted from around the corner of the house: "YOU CAN'T PROVE ANYTHING!"

Dipper said, "What did Gideon do to warrant that, anyway?"

Bill glowered into the distance. "He knows what he did."

"Okay, I-I won't tell anyone. I promise." Pitifully, Gideon asked, "Can I go home now?"

"Yeah, you can go home now." Mabel let him go. He got up and ran as fast as his little legs would carry him.

####

They reconvened in the living room. Dipper and Mabel stood in front of Bill, glaring. Bill sat on the sofa, smiling innocently.

"Bill," Mabel said. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Oh, yeah?" Lots of people thought he should be ashamed of himself, but not many had the guts to say so.

"Bullying Gideon like that!"

"I have an excuse," Bill said. "I've been crabby this week. Body made me crabby. Some kind of human neurotransmitter imbalance. I didn't sign up to have neurotransmitters, it's completely out of my hands."

"That's not an excuse," Dipper said.

"Plus, you're an entire adult thing!" Mabel said. "You're picking on a little kid! He's like, eleven!"

"So? There's not a lot of difference between eleven and a hundred eleven when you're a million million years old."

"Then maybe you're too old to bully anybody."

Bill blinked in mild surprise. "Huh."

Dipper said, "Plus, you're gonna blow your cover and get everyone in trouble!"

Bill shrugged. "He can't prove anything! Anyone could have sent a letter pretending to be me."

Mabel asked, "How did you send a letter, anyway?"

####

"Hey, Soos," Mabel yelled, "Can you send a letter for me?"

"Sure thing, hambone! Just stick it on the pile in the kitchen."

Mabel licked a stamp, haphazardly slapped it on the envelope to her parents, tossed it on the other mail, and ran back upstairs.

Bill crept into the kitchen, peeled the stamp off Mabel's envelope before it dried, stuck it on his tiny origami letter, and stuffed them both into the middle of the mail pile. "Sorry, kid," he muttered. "You'll just have to resend this one."

####

"I have my ways," Bill said.

"And how did you 'harass' Gideon?" Dipper asked. "What could you possibly do from in here to harass him?"

####

Bill sat on the sofa in the floor room with Mabel's boombox radio on the floor, a cassette tape player/recorder he'd salvaged from the museum held up to the speaker with his thumb hovering over the record button, his other hand hovering over the key with the thunder sound effect on Soos's keyboard, an air horn between his knees, and a nearly-dead marker he'd fished out of Mabel's trash and revitalized with rubbing alcohol waiting next to him for drawing a magic-activated sigil. He glared at the boombox as the local radio station played an advertisement for air conditioning installation. "Come on," he muttered at the boombox. "Play the stupid car commercial."

The next ad started. "Bargain alert, bargain alert! I've got more used cars than I know what to do with! Hi, I'm Scout—"

"Yes," Bill hissed. He hit the record button, squeezed the air horn between his knees, held the tape recorder up to the boombox until the end of the commercial, kicked the boombox's power button, quickly held the tape recorder up to the piano, and triumphantly hit the key that produced the sound of a flushing toilet.

"NO!" He kicked the electric piano's leg, flung the tape recorder to the other end of the sofa, and flopped face down on the cushions. After permitting himself a moment of grief at the injustice of it all, he dragged over the tape recorder, stopped it, rewound it back to the start, hit the lightning key several times to make sure he had it, and then set up again to wait for the next time the car commercial played.

####

"Hey Wendy, could you get this door for me?"

Wendy gave Bill a puzzled look. "That's the wrong hallway. Rainbow Club's down that one." She pointed at the door across the room.

"I know, I'm just looking for the restroom! I need to dooo... girl hygiene things?"

Wendy looked at the tape player-shaped lump under Bill's shirt, looked at his face, and raised her brow.

"Okay, okay. I'm gonna prank Lil Gideon."

Wendy opened the door, leaned through, and opened a second door to a coat closet. "Good luck. We're all counting on you."

Bill saluted her, and rummaged through the leather biker jackets in search of Gideon's little backpack.

####

"You've got no idea what kind of dark powers I still have at my disposal," Bill boasted, leaning back and lacing his hands behind his head.

Dipper turned to Mabel. "Yeah, he's got nothing. He probably bribed a tourist to call Gideon's house or something."

Bill scowled, but didn't dignify Dipper with a response. "Anyway, the game's over now that Gideon knows where I am. I won't do it again."

Dipper scoffed. "Yeah, sure. Why should we trust you?"

"Because," Bill said calmly, "if I do it again, you'll have to tell your uncles, and I'll be in serious trouble. So I won't... and therefore, you won't. Right?"

Dipper frowned, but looked at Mabel. Mabel was considering Bill with her hands on her hips. She prompted, "Aaand...?"

It took Bill a moment to figure out what she was aiming for. "And I've realized I was mean and I'm very remorseful for my hurtful actions."

Mabel pointed at him. "That's what I wanna hear!" She looked at Dipper. "I think we can let him off with a warning."

Dipper shook his head in resignation.

Mabel said, "But you're not stopping there, Bill."

"How's that?"

"Come on, man, think!" She poked her finger against her temple. "You know the answer! We just watched this episode yesterday!"

"Episode?" Dipper asked.

"I've been using Color Critters to teach him social skills."

Bill said, "I have social skills, all you're doing is showing me what'll be on the test."

"That's how learning works, dummy! I wanna hear you regurgitate that textbook answer!"

Bill opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and pantomimed sticking his finger down his throat and gagging; but then he said, with a blatantly artificial chipper tone, "'If we hurt our friends, we should try to find a way to make it up to them and make sure it can't happen again.'" 

"That's right! 98 points! I'm taking two off for attitude."

"So how do you expect me to make it up to him? I can't exactly un-send him a letter. Unless you're gonna loan me that time tape—"

"Stop asking for the time tape," Dipper said, "it'll never happen."

Bill shrugged. "Then what do you suggest."

"Figure it out yourself," Mabel said. "You're the one who's gotta make it up to Gideon, not us."

Bill rolled his eye. "Is this part of the terms to buy your silence?"

"Yeah, it is."

"All right, fine." Bill sighed and stood up. "Give me a bit to brainstorm. I'll be upstairs." He meandered out of the room.

Mabel called after him, "You better not think you're wiggling out of this!"

"Relax! I won't disappoint you, Shooting Star. Promise."

Once he was out of earshot, Dipper turned to Mabel. "How do you expect him to make it up to Gideon?"

"He should say 'sorry.'"

Dipper nodded. Okay, sure, that sounded reasonable. "How long do you think it'll take for him to think of apologizing?"

"I'd give it a couple of hours."

####

(If you recognize the dealership being parodied, we now share a warrior's bond. Anyway hope y'all enjoyed, I've been looking forward to introducing Gideon for a long time! As always, I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts and comments on the chapter!)

[twstgarden]

❀ ❝ 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗶 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲? ❞

━ malleus draconia x gn! reader (reader can be yuu or an oc/twstsona) ━ thoughts of the possibility of falling in love with your nightly visitor continue to disturb you even during the times you were supposed to focus on your quality time together.

no spoilers for chapter 7, diasomnia’s arc!

do not steal or translate without my permission.

buy me a coffee here and ko-fi here if you want to support me, commissions are open

“modern architectures seemed to have adapted new designs for their gargoyles. why, i even came across one that resembles a human face. it is quite intriguing, really. i have grown accustomed to seeing gargoyles that usually take the form of different creatures of the night, so seeing that human-like gargoyle sparked some interest in me that i wish to show it to you,” rambled malleus before he frowned, “however, my so-called phone could no longer capture images. it breaks easily, it’s unfortunate.”

you sat as you replied with a soft hum, your chin resting on your hand as you looked up at him with a rather longing and lovestruck gaze. you were paying attention to his ramblings, truly, you were! it just so happened that you were looking at him with an infatuated gaze.

hearing only a hum from you, malleus turned his head to look at his companion. with a raised brow, he spoke, “hm? are you alright?”

his question snapped you out of your thoughts. a soft blush dusted over your cheeks as you felt embarrassed of having been caught staring, “oh, sorry. um… so, did you capture it with… maybe a regular camera?”

once more, there was a frown on his lips, “no, but i will make sure i get to capture its uniqueness and aesthetic the next time i come across that gargoyle.”

it was somewhere around midnight when you decided to accompany malleus in the backyard of the ramshackle dorm, and you spent the past 30 minutes listening to him talk about his findings during his strolls for his gargoyle research club activity.

you loved listening to him speak. his voice was deep and resonant, yet so dulcet and soothing. you would never get tired of listening to him all day. when he speaks with clear passion and excitement laced in his tone, he resembles a young kid who had just gotten some candy – so endearing and oh so innocent, but you had to remind yourself that this was no ordinary man. this was the crown prince of a nation, a man respected by many and feared by many more.

still, who gives a damn about titles when you can enjoy his presence for as long as you want? as long as the moon stays up in the sky and the sun has not risen, you can guarantee his presence in your dormitory.

were you falling in love?

what nonsense. of course not! who could afford to fall in love at a time like this? what you needed to focus on was your return to your world, not fall in love with a prince who may soon be betrothed to someone else.

oh, but that smile…

malleus smiled as he caught you staring once more, lost in your gaze. with a teasing chuckle, he spoke playfully, “am i so captivating that you can’t seem to tear your eyes away?”

what a beautiful smile.

that question alone made you look away immediately. was it too obvious? surely, he was only teasing you, but it was as if he hinted that he knew you might be falling for him. you laughed a little and replied, “i was spacing out! i wasn’t staring or anything…”

“spacing out, hm? does something trouble your mind?” asked malleus. the playful air seemed to have dissipated, replaced with an air of concern and care as soon as you told him you were spacing out.

“not at all,” you replied with a smile, “i was only imagining what that gargoyle with a human face would look like.”

are you falling in love?

again, with such questions! having the desire to spend more time with the man and looking forward to your nightly meetings does not equate to falling in love. you merely wanted his companionship. he was the only one visiting you late at night, keeping you entertained and listening to your troubles. he was more of a friend than anyone else in night raven college – ace and deuce are a category of their own.

there was never a single night he’d bail on you. not a single night had he let you be alone. it had become a tradition at this point for him to always be standing by your window once the clock struck 12. he never arrived empty-handed; there was always a thoughtful gift in tow or an engaging tale of adventures of the people he knew – mostly lilia’s adventures. other times, it would be a treasure trove of fascinating facts on random yet intriguing subjects. with him, each nightly meeting was an enchanting experience, always concluding with the bestowal of a meaningful gift, the creation of lasting memories, or the gain of fresh knowledge.

a knowledgeable and kind-hearted friend.

that’s how you’d always describe him. that’s what you’d always tell yourself. he was nothing more than a knowledgeable, kind-hearted friend. why must your admiration of his character equate to romantic feelings? even friends can find one person cool and not wish to have romantic relationships with them.

oh, but you love holding his hand…

it was another night in night raven college, another night spent with your midnight visitor. he was discussing certain gemstones that he had in his collection – his hoard, a term better suited for his kind. the discussion seemed normal at first glance until he looked at your left hand and held his right hand out for you to hold after taking off his glove.

“may i?”

curiosity washed over your senses as you tilted your head but placed your left hand on top of his anyway. his gentle caress on your knuckles sent shivers down your spine, his hands felt so smooth and oh so gentle, yet you knew of the underlying strength that was concealed within his lovely hands.  the same hand that finds ease in cracking a coconut open gently held your own – as if he was afraid of accidentally hurting you.

as his thumb tenderly brushed against your bare ring finger, he spoke, “a beautiful golden ring would best adorn your hand, perhaps one embedded with your birthstone, don’t you think?”

this was merely a casual conversation between friends – a topic of discussion relating to gemstones turned into rings. this is normal, is it not? you hummed in reply as he continued to hold your hand, “a golden ring embedded with my birthstone? that sounds lovely.” a soft laugh then left your lips, “i could not afford to buy one, however.”

hoping he would comprehend your attempt at making a poor joke, you looked at him with a smile. he let out a soft chuckle, leading you to believe he was amused by your jest until his response completely caught you off-guard.

“why buy one when i can have one custom-made for you?”

your smile dropped as your expression turned into shock.

“pardon?”

that night was memorable, and certainly had its surprising elements compared to your other nightly meetings. you thought he was joking about getting a custom-made ring for you, but he had given so many hints and statements that he was completely serious – he even took your ring size. you did not stop him. perhaps it was just another one of his many, many gifts that he had bestowed upon you.

your vague knowledge of fae tradition made you recall a hint of a connection between faes and the art of gift-giving – that exchanging of gifts was an intrinsic part of their nature. you were entirely unaware of the customs and traditions surrounding gifts in briar valley, but surely, gift-giving is a way to show how much one appreciates an important acquaintance, is it not?

after that meeting, you started to realise the growing number of attempts on him holding your hand – whether you’re walking side by side or sitting together on the bench – he would always attempt to interlock his hand with yours in a way that seems respectful. his hand would gently brush against your own while he was talking, giving a hint that he wishes to hold your hand but would rather have your consent first.

you did not hesitate. you smiled and continued listening to his words as you interlocked your fingers together, gently squeezing his hand as he had not worn his gloves like usual. there was a brief moment of his eyes lighting up and his smile growing wider once he felt your hand on his, but then reverted to his usual expression as he continued to share stories with you.

your nightly meetings had extended to daylight hours. you were no longer confined in the moon’s appearance in the sky to determine how long you’d spend your time with him. you did not mind being seen by everyone else in the academy hanging out with the hotshot dormitory leader of diasomnia – who cares about them?

as long as malleus continued to spend his time with you, you’d spend your time with him. your blooming connection had soon become known to everyone else, and those from his dormitory were more than happy to finally see their dorm leader making friends. well, lilia was the proudest, but sebek still has his suspicions.

it has been a long while now since you have established a connection with the lonely crown prince. his companionship was all you could find on all the times you yearned for someone to hang out with. things were going smoothly, and your relationship with malleus kept blossoming every day.

have you fallen in love?

that question now haunted you once more.

have you fallen in love?

you shook your head as you sighed, trying to think of something else as you sat on diasomnia’s comfortable couch. their lounge was spacious – able to fit more than 20 students at the same time, but you’d rather not stay in the lounge if it gets crowded. the leather couches of their lounge were certainly of high quality as once you took a seat, you felt yourself sinking into the soft depths of the sofa.

malleus was sipping on his tea while the other three kept conversing about their recent school activities. upon hearing your sigh, malleus glanced at you and placed his teacup down, “are you feeling tired?” you shook your head in response, “no, no… not at all…”

have you fallen in love?

perhaps you did. your eyes stayed on malleus for a while as you thought of all the reasons you were drawn to him. malleus had a regal and powerful aura, everyone knew that, but there was also a hint of innocence and loneliness behind that powerful mask of his. you were one of the few people who have witnessed the real side of malleus draconia, while everyone else only knew him as a powerful fae prince.

malleus had the most beautiful set of green eyes – striking and sharp, yet so ethereal and comforting. his eyes showed all the feelings his facial expressions could not, and when it twinkles at the sight or mention of things, he is particularly fond of, you feel a sense of peace within you – as if you felt happy seeing him happy.

for so long have you denied your thoughts and dismissed them as merely friendly observations. you thought he was beautiful, and it should be normal to find someone beautiful, no? you think vil is a beautiful man, but that does not mean you are in love with him, so what makes malleus any different?

but that’s the thing.

malleus draconia’s allure was a level of their own.

his beauty was not like vil’s elegant charm or neige’s endearing appeal. malleus embodies a beauty of ethereal quality – to you, he is a man of enchanting grace and elegance, shrouded in mystery and often veiled in reserve.

have you fallen in love?

after pondering on your inner thoughts, you can proudly answer this question with confidence.

yes, you were.

© twstgarden 2024 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Blind Love Chapter 25

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there

If life were a fairytale, it’d be easy to be happy.

You just find a kind prince and take his hand.

Yes, that’s right. Just like that.

…Huh? You’re running after the double-crossing hunter instead of the prince?

If that’s what you desire, then that’s your life.

What’s happiness is always decided by your own heart.

--

Tonight, Crown was on a mission to condemn a gang dealing in narcotics.

In the middle of all the gunfire and shouting, Jude took cover and lit a cigarette while Roger reloaded his rifle.

Jude: Ya sure ya wanna let that princess loose? Don’t care if she accidentally dies?

Roger: I’m not worried. The way the lil’ lady is now, she wouldn't get killed by those punks. Probably managed to trick the gang by now. …Still, there’s a lotta evil going around Britain tonight. We condemn and condemn, but there’s no end to it.

Jude: What’s the point in sayin’ all that. It’s useless.

Roger: Useless, huh.

Perhaps this was some form of karma.

You know how the world works…but you can’t pull back from it.

Roger: Don’t know if we’ll condemn them all, or see results from my research on the Cursed while I’m alive. Maybe this was all useless. But as long as there’s even the slightest chance it’s not, then I’m not gonna give up…funny, isn’t it? 

Jude: … Dyin' early makes ya look arrogant. Don’t give up or everything ya did will be a waste. Or somethin’ like that.

Roger: You too. Alright, let’s settle this and get Kate—

Kate: Roger, Jude! Thank goodness I found you!

Kate appeared from the gunpowder smoke and looked relieved to see the two.

Roger: Oh, Kate. Knew you’d be alright. What’s with the key?

Kate: It’s the key to the warehouse. I managed to lure the gang and lock them in! 

Jude: …O_O

Roger: Pfft, hahaha. I did say she probably managed to trick them, didn’t I?

Jude: …Ridiculous.

--

After taking care of the gang, we left Jude and went to the cemetery where Lance was buried.

Kate: Normally people visit during the day.

With no street lamps around, the cemetery was pitch-dark except for the lap illuminating Lance’s name on his tombstone.

Roger: Who decided on that? With no one around the cemetery at night, it’s the best time to face them.

Roger laid the flowers down before the tombstone and placed a hand on his chest.

(How unexpected…Roger might actually be right)

(When it’s dark, you feel closer to the people who are no longer a part of this world)

As I stood next to Roger, I also prayed for Lance.

(...I’m sorry for showing up late, Lance. And…I’m sorry I couldn’t save you)

(I hope you’re at least resting in peace and have met your love…)

After praying, I looked up at the night sky and thought about Lance’s soul that ascended to heaven.

Kate: Let’s go home…Huh, Roger?

Roger: …

Roger was muttering something as he looked over the tombstones.

Roger: …It’s nothing. Of the people resting beneath their tombstones, I wonder how many died of despair.

Despair was always close by.

There were many people, not just the Cursed, who died with regrets.

Roger: Oh right. You never told me your answer to my question.

“—Would it be good or evil to make curses disappear from this world?”

“You don’t have to answer me now. When it comes to you, let me know.”

The question had been on my mind since the moment Roger asked it.

(I’ve settled on an answer)

What I felt from that day I talked to Nica still remained the same.

Kate: There’s no definite answer to whether it’s good or bad to make curses disappear. Because everyone has their own opinion on curses. But…our fates—that’s something we have no control over. I don’t believe the Cursed should despair.

(No one wishes to be unhappy or despair)

(Everyone desires to live happily while they desperately try to survive. That goes for both normal people and the Cursed)

Kate: That’s why I hope for a future where the Cursed can decide if they want to live with their curse or not.

Roger: …

Kate: So let me stay by your side and help you continue your research that you’ve been sacrificing yourself for. As your assistant, partner, and lover.

Roger: Not my dog?

Kate: Well…

I almost gave a comeback like how I usually do.

Roger’s eyes looked so unfairly tender though…

The imperceptible happiness filled my heart, and I couldn’t bring myself to say anything back.

Kate: Hehe…as long as I can be with you, anything’s fine.

When I smiled at him, he gently intertwined our fingers.

Roger: Let’s go. There’s a place I wanna take you.

--

This place—It was an abandoned conservatory that stood quietly in the night.

(It’s the first time I’ve been here, but it feels so familiar)

Kate: Is this place…

Roger: Yeah. The conservatory Alec used as his lab.

(So that’s it. This is where Roger met Alec…)

(And also the place where he’ll never see Alec again)

At the time he told me about it, I wanted to burn the scene into my memory so I imagined the scene over and over.

That’s why this place felt familiar even though I’ve never been here before.

Roger: …I haven’t been here in a while either. A~ah, the grass is overgrown since there’s no one here taking care of it.

While he looked around, his eyes widened as if remembering something.

Roger: Wait. I’m positive I left it around here somewhere…

I watched as Roger dug through a flower pot before pulling an envelope out. 

Inside were several folded sheets of writing paper.

Kate: …A letter.

Roger: Like I said, Alec left me a letter before he died. I really wanted to keep it close to me, but… I didn’t want to get stuck in memories.

Kate: …You’ve already read it so many times that you don’t need it with you.

Roger: Huh?

It looked as if he wanted to ask how I knew.

Kate: The letter. It’s wrinkled and worn.

Roger smiled and handed me the letter.

Roger: Hm

Kate: …Can I read it?

Roger: Since it’s you, I want you to read it.

As I had received a part of Roger himself, I gently held the letter in my hand.

Kate: Thank you…

When I unfolded the letter, the first words I saw were “To my little friend, Roger.”

Alec had written that if anything happened to him, then he wanted Roger to forget about him and the research on the Cursed he had done here.

(...Just like Roger had told me)

And—

“Hey, Roger. The world we live in is a very cruel, isn't it.

It’s full of things beyond our control and our hearts bleed out just by being alive.

But I also think the world we live in is beautiful.

The sky’s blue when you look up, the birds sing, and sometimes someone will find hope that’s like a miracle.

The world is cruel, yet endlessly beautiful.

That’s why the world is worth living in and fighting against despair for.

My dear little friend, you will no doubt encounter despair in the future. However, don’t let yourself be defeated.

Your life will always be beautiful.”

When I looked up, Roger was smiling in the perpetual night that enveloped the conservatory.

Roger: Those words saved me, and I’ve been living by them my whole life. With those words, I’ll be fine. I can fight against despair even when I’m by myself. I’m strong, I won’t be defeated, I won’t be lonely, I won’t let my soul rot, and I’ll fulfill my ambition. That’s been my mantra until I met you.

Kate: …Huh?

(Me…?)

I was shocked, but at the same time, felt embarrassed.

Roger: I’ve always claimed that I’d never betray anyone, but maybe I’ve…been betraying my own heart. Deep down in my heart, I’ve been searching. For someone I could laugh with by my side. Someone to chase after my ambitions with. Someone to snap me out of it when I’m falling into despair. Someone to teach me that, even if love’s pointless, it’s the best. That “someone”—there’s no one else but you, Kate.

Kate: …

Roger: …I won’t find anyone else in the world.

(I’ve always wanted to be something for Roger)

Someone that would always pick another back up and save.

That’s why I wanted to become someone strong enough to pay him back.

(Am I becoming something for Roger?)

(That, that…)

(That would be the best thing)

Roger: Pfft…haha. What’s with that cute face?

I’m trying to hold back my tears! +4 +4

What do you mean cute?

No way. I must look weird.

Kate: As you can see, I’m trying to hold back my tears!

Roger: A~ah, I can’t take you seriously when you’re barking like that.

But even if he teased me, there’s nothing I couldn’t do anything about the face I made.

I had to bite down on my lower lip or else I’d burst into tears…

Roger: Pfft…Alright, alright. Hang in there.

Kate: Please stop talking already…

When I heard Roger laugh, I looked up to stop the tears from pooling at the corner of my eyes.

However—

Roger: Not gonna. I still got something to say to you. ‘Til now, I’ve been saying some pretty words with love, but… My main reason is that “I” enjoy being with you.

Kate: …

When I blinked in surprise, the tears I had been holding back spilled out.

Kate: If you say something like that, then…waaahh~~

That smirk on Roger’s face was awful, but I also loved it.

Roger: With you, the world isn’t such a shitty place.

Furthermore, those words that were completely egoistical words made the best pick-up line for me, so—

I had completely lost.

Kate: Roger…

Roger: Hm, what?

Kate:  Roger, Roger, Roger!

Roger: What?

(I don’t care if I’m crying or if I look like a mess)

(Because I can’t control my feelings for Roger anymore)

Kate: Roger!

I gathered all my feelings and jumped into Roger’s strong arms—

Kate: Roger, I love you!

There was so much more I wanted to say, but for now, all I could say was this. 

Even so, the smile in front me told me, “I can tell you’re happy.”

Roger: A~ah, your face’s all wet. You really are so cute!

Even if he was teasing me in a mean way, the way his arms squeeze around me was like he was spoiling me.

The difference made my head spin and my heartbeat speed up.

The smile in front of me was like a sweet, potent drug that I most likely— 

(I won’t be content with my life if this person isn't in it)

No matter how much he pushed me around, bullied me, etc., I wanted this person.

(There will surely be more times from now when we’ll face despair) 

(Because life isn’t kind)

(Because hope isn’t easy to come by)

(But still…)

Kate: Roger, you can keep teasing me all you want. You can bully me. You can do whatever. But promise me. That we’ll keep living together until the very end.

(We give despair the finger)

Roger: ……Yeah.

When Roger’s lips touched mine, I closed my eyes and got carried away with the gentle kiss that seemed to melt everything away.

Roger: I’m gonna push you around so much you’re gonna hate it. And that’s for life.

I slowly opened my eyes when I felt the warmth leave me, and I saw amber eyes full of love staring back.

Kate: *sniffle*...Crying made me hungry…

Roger burst out laughing when I said that…

Roger: Yeah, me too. Having you in my arms’ tired me out. So…

Kate and Roger: Let’s go eat.

The conservatory was empty, except for the sound of laughter left behind.

Destiny, unrealizable dreams, incurable disease, war, poverty…

It just goes on.

This world’s a bargain sale of despair.

And it’s called “despair” because you can’t do anything about it.

However, that’s not something I’ll allow.

If you can’t overcome despair— then what’s the point of me, of us humans, being born?

That’s why…these days, we live our lives giving it the finger.

With the one we love.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 408: Orphaned Cryptid to Billionaire Supervillain

Previously on BnHA: HE WAS BORN AN ARROGANT BABY.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi decides he’s going to cover the rest of the AFO/OFA saga in the span of just seven pages, the majority of which are mostly just filled with lovingly detailed closeups of AFO and Kudou’s eyes. Back in the present day, Kid For One takes a couple of seconds to trample the last of the “Kacchan is OFA II or is related to OFA II” theories into the dust, and is then all “fuck it, I’ll just take him out with one last spectacularly grotesque supermove.” Kacchan is all “lol you fucking dipshit”, and he says it with such confidence that it truly makes me believe he can defeat AFO’s “ALL THE QUIRKS EVER!!” attack with his piddly little exploding bloodsweat quirk. AND IT WILL BE A SIGHT TO SEE.

interesting!

Yoichi’s name btw is written with the kanji 与 which means “bestow” or “give”, and 一 which means “one.” so basically “one who gives”, which is fitting as the creator of OFA, but also fits in with this new context of being the first “possession” bestowed upon AFO

oh yes and also AFO I guess has just torn his brother to shreds or something too. idk. I’m going to be honest with you guys, this panel has such a surreal vibe that I just sat here blinking stupidly at it and wasn’t even shocked or anything. like what. is he dreaming this?? or did he really just make a “STOP! IN THE NAAAAME OF LOVE” gesture and in doing so remove half of his brother’s jaw

ewww

idk what’s wrong with me today guys. AFO just disintegrated Yoichi, and Kudou and and OFA Tres (who apparently still doesn’t have a name???? freaking Kudou got named before you??) are literally RIGHT THERE and presumably horrified, and all I can think about is how fucking gross it is that they’re all hanging out in a fucking sewer

oh shit y’all it’s about to go down

he can’t kill Kudou right off the bat can he? does Kudou even know he has OFA yet? are we going to see him transfer it to OFA III? I’m so fucking excited omg

LOL WHAT

“weirdly matte” omg. so apparently he’s like All Might, where the “he’s just drawn differently” thing is something people actually acknowledge in-story. “yeah he actually has no pupils. that’s a real thing. technically that should mean he can’t see since pupils are what let light into your eyes, but don’t worry about that part. just know that his eyes canonically look weird to the story people as well, and everyone is creeped out by it, not just you”

yeah he’s actually blind

so he literally can’t see outside himself. way to lay those metaphors on thick, Horikoshi

(ETA: this is my “just in case my impeccably dry wit doesn’t translate well across the internet” ETA to assure everyone I know he’s not actually blind lol.)

now we’re cutting to some random city where AFO is broodingly staring at Yoichi’s severed hand because he’s perfected the art of always doing incredibly unsettling things

I cannot believe the fucking hands thing has an actual origin story. of course it does. this man has never done a single hinged thing in his life. it’s all unhinged or bust. am I talking about AFO or Horikoshi? YOU DECIDE

he’s sitting at a table with a bottle of wine holding his dead brother’s embalmed severed limb and thinking about fucking quirk shit

so your transformation from Orphaned Cryptid to Billionaire Supervillain happened almost completely offscreen huh. I’m kinda disappointed, ngl. I could have read a few more chapters about that. maybe a spinoff miniseries

WAIT WHAT

are you serious. we finally get a panel that’s INCREDIBLY RELEVANT to pretty much ALL OF MY BNHA THEORIES, only for that same panel to contradict itself ONE SPEECH BUBBLE LATER?? so what is the truth???

omg omg omg

so many fucking questions, omg. what the hell does “through research” even mean. how did he confirm Yoichi’s quirklessness, and why did he later change his mind? how the fuck can Yoichi have a quirk factor and yet not have an actual quirk. “it was just so weak it didn’t count or something I guess” okay??? how much of this is unreliable narrator vs. the word of god? how is it we’re getting so many answers and yet all I have is more fucking questions you guys

BRUE?CE?CEE??!

bruce

Kudou is so goddamned hot. I hope you washed the hell out of that arm wound after getting it all covered in sewage you stupid sexy man

I can’t get over Three’s name. “idk if anyone noticed, but it’s kind of a subtle homage to another very famous superhero” Horikoshi your nap wasn’t long enough, please go home

also love how Bruce is talking shit about OFA being a puny loser quirk for wimps. how the fuck do they even know what’s going on, anyway? was there a tutorial???

oh you just had a feeling huh??? that it was “something like this”, huh??? how is it that I, who knows all about OFA because I’m from the future and have read 408 chapters of this nonsense, am somehow still less in the know than this handsome clown who doesn’t know shit but just “had a feeling”

(ETA: while editing this post I noted that Bruce is sitting in front of a computer in what seems to be some sort of medical lab, so maybe they ran some tests or something? except that only makes me more confused, because it implies they didn’t actually figure out OFA’s workings via convenient plot instincts. so then how the fuck did they figure out the transfer process?? questions)

meanwhile AFO is sitting in the panel next to him whining about how someone stole Yoichi’s quirk. excuse you. he did not steal it. it was in fact a gift

these flashbacks are all jumbled up and it’s unexpectedly fun to read, but also really chaotic

I guess he’s talking to Kudou on the right and AFO on the left

so many intense closeups of eyes in this chapter oh my goodness

Horikoshi even drew the individual goddamn eyelashes. this looks like the margins of someone’s notebook from when they were really bored in middle school

oh my god the information overload!!!

so much for AFO actually feeling emotions lol. or is he just lying to himself about why he cried. that delicious ambiguity

so we don’t even get a flashback explaining how the transfer actually happened?? to either Kudou OR my beloved Bruce?? goddamn you Horikoshi. omg I would seriously kill for more of this. make a movie about it. I want the OFA origin story prequel movie damn it

I like how AFO just sits there on a throne holding court with a single tiki torch beside him for aesthetic reasons

I can’t quite figure out how he killed Banjou and I’m not sure I really want to know. it looks very violent

friendly reminder that Shinomori is Sir Not Appearing In This Flashback because he’s the only OFA user who died of natural causes! good for you Shinomori. En probably wishes he was more like you

poor En

was Nana just taking a stroll or something one day and stumbled across this epic fight with the evilest man on the planet vs some kid in a trenchcoat, and then the poor kid got bisected and he looked at her and he was all “please eat my hair” and she was just like “ok”?

OH WOW

what a transition omg

LOLLLLLLLL

you know, part of me always wondered how All Might was so certain he’d killed AFO that he apparently never bothered to confirm it. but looking at this panel now, I can understand

fjjfdzjgf

he’s sweating so much. like “okay yeah he punched the top of his face off, this is pretty bad but I’LL DO MY BEST”

BACK TO THE PRESENT DAY AWW SHUCKS

so let’s recap. over on Kacchan’s side we have “GOTTA USE THE PAIN TO WIN!!!” haha ouch. and then over here on KFO’s side we have. whatever the fuck we just experienced over these past two chapters. so basically it’s a battle between the two most deranged characters in the entire series. glorious sweet chaos

DSFJKSLDKGJL he’s now trying to figure out how the fuck they look so much alike and whether they’re actually related

“no, that can’t be it. so then maybe... this kid grows up and then somehow travels back in time...?!” HE’S JUST LIKE US FR

so now he’s saying it’s because Kacchan didn’t have character development yet the last time, but now that he does his eyes are all Full Of Determination just like Kudou’s and so we’ve basically come full circle!

transcended WHAT? :O :D :D omg I’m kidding you guys please don’t hurt me

lol

actually the more we learn about Kudou the less I personally see the resemblance now lol. because Kudou seems so calm and collected, but Kacchan is just... [gestures to literally everything about Kacchan]

so AFO’s trying to strategize, but he can’t warp Kacchan away because the only available targets are too close and he’s still got that SUPERSPEED, BOYO so it wouldn’t make a difference. lol but if you kept doing it repeatedly it might be kind of funny though

and he can’t keep fighting him either because he’s getting his ass whooped and it’s speeding up his de-aging or whatever. well you could just give up then I guess. your call, AFO

oh was that your plan?

spoiler alert for me lol. but it’s not exactly shocking or anything since he’s dying, guess he wants to abandon ship

(ETA: just FYI for anyone reading this who’s not familiar with my dumbassery, I have currently only read chapters 1 through 374 at this point in time, before skipping ahead to 403 because Kacchan came back and I lost all willpower. I am working on catching up with the rest!)

oh so now you did come up with a strategy?

lmao what the FUCK

how much of this is going to be clearer to me once I finish the chapters that I missed, and how much of it is just plain old “nope this is all brand new zero-context BnHA bullshit” lol. this looks like every single quirk AFO ever absorbed combined into one gigantic horrifying blob that forced Horikoshi to take an extra week just to draw it

oh my god!?

Kacchan hovering there bravely facing all this is giving me Gandalf “you shall not pass” vibes and I’m LIVING FOR IT

so either AFO is going to kill Kacchan for the second time right here and now, or he’s going to fail and turn back into a squishy evil baby fdslfjkls

love how All Might is all “DODGE IT YOUNG BAKUGOU!” thanks for the warning, champ. doing his part

more exploding bloodsweat closeups. are these just going to be a mainstay of Kacchan fights from now on

“are you stupid?”, when faced with [gestures to the entirety of the previous page], is possibly the best line ever uttered by anyone in the series. even better than the polite “coming through” uttered only seconds before it

ah man. you love to see it. he literally doesn’t even care. HE ALREADY DIED ONCE TODAY, AND IT CLUED HIM IN TO THE FACT THAT HE’S A MAIN CHARACTER AND ACTUALLY IMMUNE TO DEATH. sorry AFO it’s curtains for you. CURTAINS

[auncyen]

SO WHEN I STARTED Sif having a bad King fight and then freezing (which lead to Isa and Mira being sad), I'd. kind of wondered where that left Loop, and that's like the one part I wanted to get to, even if I don't plan on writing past that.

Loop is...not doing that great. I'm still figuring out how exactly this conversation would go (Odile wasn't planned at first LOL) but yeah there's a lot of "UM":

You got better. You got to leave the infirmary, though they still wanted you to stay in the House itself for a bit, just in case something happened, rather than being all the way out in the clocktower. You didn't mind, because you felt you needed to be here.

Sif wasn't getting better. They were still frozen on the highest floor of the House. You started helping M'dame with the research she was doing in the library, including the secret library after Euphrasie entrusted her with the knowledge. She raised an eyebrow when you started skimming through tomes and summarizing the chapters aloud to judge if you should give it a closer look, put it back on the shelf, or put it in the 'maybe' pile--only tangentially relevant to healing Craft or Time Craft, but sometimes writers do go on illuminating tangents. "I, uh, used to be a huge nerd," you muttered, because it didn't feel like the time to hide your smarts when Siffrin needed a cure.

Odile looked surprised for a few seconds. "Interesting. I'd wondered."

"You'd…wondered?"

"You're the only man I've ever heard sound smarter with three drinks in him. I'm curious, but it's fine if you don't want to talk about it. We've business right now, anyway."

You did indeed have business. Unfortunately, it was a bust; none of the books you found had an insight into healing a powerful Time Craft curse that M'dame or Mira hadn't already considered. Mira looked increasingly tired and miserable by the day, and at the end of the week Bonbon came in the House to visit Sif and came down yelling because someone had left flowers at his frozen form and that wasn't right, it wasn't right, because Frin was going to unfreeze and be greeted by dead flowers and that would suck, and if someone had left them flowers the way you would at a grave that was even worse because Frin wasn't dead. Bonbon was very clearly more worked up at the idea of Sif being considered 'dead' than Sif waking up to see dead flowers, but you promised them that yeah! You'd tell everyone to wait to give Sif flowers until they were able to appreciate them again. Because of course Sif was going to be able to appreciate flowers again.

You didn't want to think about the other possibility any more than Bonnie did.

The four of you were all stuck in a painful limbo. The Housemaidens and townspeople didn't seem to know if they should treat you as heroes to be celebrated or glass vases ready to shatter, and as much as you tried to smile you felt increasingly brittle. It was kind of a relief when a new issue popped up: there was a stranger at the Favor Tree.

So, strangers usually weren't a problem. Most strangers are nice! Accepting the change that strangers may bring is a key part of the Change faith!

…Most strangers, even if they had different ways of dress and custom, still looked…well. People weren't sure if the stranger was even human? According to the scattered descriptions, they had a human-shaped body, but the skin was like the night sky stuck over the House when it was frozen, and on top of the body was not a head, but a spiky orb radiating light. Some people were scared the stranger might not be a person at all, but some new kind of Sadness left over from Vaugarde's ordeal, or even the King's creation, since…well, yeah. He'd pinned the night sky over the House while he was controlling it. And he'd had stars on his armor. And the night-sky stranger was lurking at the tree, hiding, which unnerved people once they noticed the new and unusual presence. One of the kids had gotten bold enough (he'd been dared) to approach the tree anyway, trying to call out the stranger to talk, and had gotten frightened by an inhuman voice snapping at him to go away. So. Even if this was a human stranger who'd done extreme Body Craft beyond what anyone in Dormont knew to be possible, they were a rude human stranger who'd decided to take over a town's Favor Tree.

…That was the best case scenario. At worst, they were something created by the King.

You decided that as an ex-Defender you were probably the most qualified to have a talk with the stranger and try to figure out who (or what) they were, why they'd taken over the Favor Tree, if there was an alternate arrangement you could work out… or to take them on if they proved hostile.

M'dame decided you were under no circumstances to do this alone, regardless of how well you'd been feeling lately, so she was accompanying you to the Tree. Which you had no complaints with! M'dame was good backup. You got to the base of the tree, standing under its crown. You didn't see anything yet, but the small handful of townspeople who'd seen the stranger had said they'd always ducked behind the tree or had already been hiding behind it, allowing only glimpses of them. They must have already hidden. "Hello, stranger?" you called. "I'm Isabeau, a Defender from Jouvente. Well…ex-Defender, but, um! My colleague and I would like to talk with you?"

"So now we're colleagues?" Odile murmured to you, smirking even as she scrutinized the tree ahead of you.

"Well!" You lower your voice, flustered. "That's how I was used to approaching people on the job."

"I'm teasing, Isabeau."

You know, you know. It still flustered you.

…Although the lack of response was quickly growing more concerning. "Stranger?" you called. "Are you there? Can you talk?"

Still nothing, except for the faint sound of grass being stepped on, like someone was shifting their weight. Odile huffed. "You go right around the tree, I'll go left--"

"Go away!"

You jumped at the voice. The kid's description really hadn't done it justice, mostly because it was inhuman, crackling in a way you'd never expect from a human throat. But after the brief shock, you moved to stop Odile from going around the tree. "M'dame, wait."

"What?"

"I think they're scared." The way the kid had described it, the voice had been threatening, but the kid had probably already been scared himself. Underneath the strange crackling, the intonation, the way the pitch had wavered… it sounded like the stranger was panicking. You didn't want to make that worse; you might force a confrontation where none was needed. "Listen," you said, raising your voice again. "You don't have to come out right now if you don't want to, but we still need to talk. Okay?"

"…Fine."

"First things first, are you all right?"

"That's your first concern?" The crackling voice was tight, almost sarcastic.

"Um, yeah?" It was now. "Look, people have been getting worried about you hiding out here, but… it's not like you've been trying to scare anyone, right? You've been keeping to yourself."

"I didn't mean to scare that kid. I haven't scared anyone else, unless people are scared of beautiful stars!"

So the stranger…didn't consider themself a person, but a star? Like in the sky?

"People are, in fact, a bit wary of strange stars after the King," Odile pointed out, which! 100% true!! But not something to point out right now!

The stranger immediately got upset, the crackling in their voice sharpening. "So, what, the King has a monopoly on stars now? Isn't he dead? It's not like you beat him with the power of friendship. Oh, King, I'm sure there's a reason you're doing this! We don't have to fight!" The stranger scoffed. "I know that didn't happen."

"The King is dead," Odile confirmed. "You didn't know?"

"You think I can just walk into town and ask questions looking like this?"

You and Odile looked at each other. Some of the tightness left Odile's posture. "They're acting scared," she said, and you knew from that word choice she hadn't ruled out yet the possibility that it was only an act. But she was willing to give the benefit of the doubt for now. "Isabeau, you're better at this, you talk to them."

…Well. Hm. They didn't seem all right, but they also hadn't answered straight when you asked about that. Maybe they weren't ready to talk about themself yet. "If you've got any other questions, we can try answering?" you offered. "I'm Isabeau, he/him, and M'dame Odile uses she/her."

"…They/them for me."

Odile arched an eyebrow. "But no name?"

"No, my turn for questions!" the strange voice said, but then it fell silent for a moment. Were they still scared, or struggling to think of any? You folded your arms and waited, not wanting to rush them. "You're…two of the Saviors. Is, um, the Housemaiden--Housemaiden Mirabelle okay?"

The question made Odile frown. "Why do you ask?"

"It's a little strange that you came out here to talk to me without her, if you thought I might have anything to do with the King. Not that I do!" the voice said quickly. "Good riddance."

"Three-on-one would be pretty intimidating," you point out. That's exactly the reasoning you would have told Mira if she'd asked to come along, too… but the truth is, she didn't know you were out here. Even though her long quest was done, the stress hadn't disappeared, and Siffrin's condition wasn't helping anyone. You hadn't wanted to toss more on her plate. "We were hoping for a nice talk! Anyway, she's fine." Burnt out, but time would surely help.

Time, and Siffrin getting better.

"And the kid traveling with you? They're fine too?"

They knew about Bonnie? "They're fine too. We kept them away from the fighting."

"I know, but--" The voice stopped abruptly.

"You know?" That…was kind of odd, especially with how quickly they'd shut up, like they hadn't meant to let it slip. You'd reassured more than a couple people that Bonnie didn't actually fight with you, was only tagging along with your group because even if they weren't old enough to fight they were old enough to decide where they wanted to be and they'd made it very clear they'd chase after the group if they were left behind. So the star could have learned that secondhand, but that seemed unlikely if they were afraid to approach people with their appearance. Along with the slip, it made you wonder… "Did you, um. Did we meet you before the Body Craft? …Is that Body Craft?" You cringed a little. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but--"

"It's okay. I, uh, I've been told how I look right now."

You immediately felt a pit open up in your stomach. They hadn't seen for themself how they looked? There was no way this could be Body Craft, then, at least not the way you knew it. No one in their right mind would Body Craft themselves without being able to track the process. But 'right now' implied there had been a Change. Odile had caught that too, her expression torn between wariness and alarm.

[eastwindmlk]

Another dubbel dip for Jilyweek? Don't mind if I do! The continuation station will depart to a little piece of The Everything Else from TB(itb)US. This little gem does require having read the first 7 chapters for full context. If you want to the full thing is 19.6k and can be found here

Though can be enjoyed as a standalone with a little TL;DR

Lily left Hogwarts in year 3 because her parents emigrated. Years later, she is given a potions apprenticeship with one Fleamont Potter. She moves into the bedroom across the hall from James. With a little meddling of his mother, they realize their feelings for each other. But now comes the hard part. They cannot be together until she is no longer his father's apprentice.

Once again, thank you to @kay-elle-cee and @sunshinemarauder for making all this possible and enabling me to dip back into this.

1.5k under the cut!

It was one of those quiet nights where Lily wanted to do nothing more than waste away her hours brewing. Staring down a cauldron, working towards her graduation, towards not having to sneak around any longer. Afraid to be caught sleeping with her teacher’s son.

But tonight she was barred from the lab and under strict instructions of her her potions master to enjoy herself.

The problem was, she really had no idea what or how.

Initially the redhead had planned go down into town, have a drink at the pub and maybe beat some of the old men at darts. Something that she’d been known to do from time to time. Her name now standing proudly near the top of the leaderboard. But she was about to shimmy into her one dressy skirt as the sky broke open.

Now, could she still slip and slide her way down the hill and have a good time? Sure. But she also could slip and slide her way right into the A&E, which was not something that she was all too keen on.

Which meant she was going to have to make new plans that did not require her to leave the Potter estate.

Lily’d wandered the hallways for a while, making idle chatter with some of the paintings before winding her way up to the small library. In the hopes of finding James there, reading or playing chess with himself. She even found him playing with Sirius over an enchanted mirror once or twice. She usually would slip out of the room before either of them would notice.

But she had no such luck. The room was empty, the fire dying in the hearth.

That was something to do, she supposed, finding the little rack of tools beside the fireplace, picking up the poker. Hoping to bring some life back to the flames, watching the embers glow and crackle at her insistence. Slowly but surely they were spurred into coming alive.

It was then, with her eyes trained on the embers that she remembered James talking about being out for a Quidditch match. She’d even sulked about the the fact that he was going to be out the whole night.

Lily reached up, letting her fingers linger on the spot on her jaw he’d kissed before leaving her with the promise of more when he returned.

When the flames danced brighter now as she placed a few more logs onto it. The warmth of the flames pleasant.

Lily took a deep breath, letting the quiet warmth wrapping around her like a blanket and the crackle of the fire persuading her to stay here. To curl up with a book. Research was almost as good as actually brewing.

It would not even really be ignoring instructions. She enjoyed research and just this room had enough rare books to keep her occupied for years to come. If the house had not offered another, more enticing, distraction she might have made more headway.

But alas, she would have to settle for reading whenever the distraction was too busy to distract her.

And so, gathered some pillows and one of the large throws that were in nearly every room and settled in with a modest selection of books.

Chewing on the end of her pen, Lily was studying a particularly chapter on transmutation when a folly of footfalls pulled her from her reading. Her eyes flicking to the door.

No one should be home until tomorrow. So who was in her house?

Heart hammering in her chest, she reached for her wand before remembering that she’d left it in her room. Never expecting to actually need it when she wasn’t going to be going anywhere.

Shit

Lily’s eyes darted around the room trying to find something, anything, to defend herself with. Landing on the fire and the little rack of tools that stood beside it.

She jumped to her feet just as the door began to rattle and scrambled over to grab the cast iron poker, brandishing it like a sword as she faced the door. She was determined to get at least one good wack in before she would let herself panic.

The door swung open, Lily’s eyes squeezed closed as she charged the fire poker raised up, over her shoulder going for a wide swing.

“Oh ho, ho! Careful there Little Red,” said a familiar voice, a hand wrapping around her wrist and easily stopping the momentum of her swing. “What in Gaia’s green earth are you trying to do?”

Her eyes flew open and instantly narrowed at a incredibly amused looking Sirius. “Defending myself,” she replied with a perturbed pout.

“Maybe next time keep your eyes open?”

“-Gee, thanks for that enlightened titbit,” Lily bit back, masking her embarrassment with snark and an eye roll, jerking the poker from his grip and waving it in his directions threateningly. “What are you two even doing here? I thought you were staying in Oxford.”

Her eyes shifted from Sirius to James, who clearly made an effort to not make the same mistake Sirius had and keeping his features schooled into a mask of nonchalance though he could not quite keep the glint from his eye.

James pulled up a single shoulder. Too casual to not be practised, she decided. “You sounded pretty disappointed that I wasn’t going to be around, so I thought we’d move our evening here.”

He said this with such nonchalance, like it wasn’t the most thoughtful thing a boy – man – had ever done for her. And without her even having to ask. It filled her with a warmth that spread from her chest, like a tight embrace.

So distracted by the little gesture by the casualness of it all that she almost forgot that Sirius was there when she threw her arms around James, their lips smashing together unceremoniously for a desperate kiss with too much tongue and teeth but neither of them seemed to care.

It wasn’t until Sirius cleared his throat that she let her eyes leave James’, keeping an arm around him. “Can I help you, Padfoot?” she snipped, turning her nose skyward when he chuckled.

“No, no by all means go on,” Sirius teased in return and gave them a superior look. “I was just under the impression you two were waiting for after graduation. New plan?”

Lily nodded doubtful, James eagerly.

Sirius snorted, giving his head a shake. “Good to see we are all agree here.” He wrapped his arm around the pair of them, the fire poker now laying discarded by the door and he steered them towards the couch. Wedging himself between them, much to the dismay of both of them.

“You two get to cuddle up when you decide what the plan is,” he informed them. Lily couldn’t help but groan, knowing full well this would end up in another argument.

Still, she took a deep breath and answered. “The new plan is the old plan, just because we fell off the wagon once, doesn’t mean we can’t give it another try.”

She could hear James scoff and she knew he was giving her a deadpan stare, not that she was going to look at him and give him the satisfaction of her flustering as he added. “Right, once. Every other day, sometimes twice a day.”

He wasn’t wrong, but hearing him say it like that sounded so much worse than she had compartmentalized it as. Maybe they did have a problem. “Right, maybe it is a bigger commitment than we anticipated, but I am sure we can rise to the occasion.”

“I think James is rising to several occasions by the sound of it,” Sirius quipped and coughed as Lily elbowed him in the side. Offering him her best glaring side eye.

James just laughed and she wanted to be annoyed at it, but is was just too damn funny.

She had to stifle a laugh as she leaned her head against Sirius’s shoulder. “Damn you, Black,” she made a poor attempt at not laughing at the innuendo.

“As long as nothing rises while I’m still in the room, I don’t really see the issue,” Sirius added with a shrug of his shoulders. “You’re both adults, legally speaking,” he paused to give James a look that made her wonder what inside joke she was missing before continuing “, you can make your own decisions.”

Lily was about to say something about her degree when she was cut off with a hand raised. “I understand the academia side of it all. I am not saying run and tell. I am saying, maybe just stop pretending to each other.”

Lily couldn’t help but be somewhat surprised at the thoughtfulness behind the words. Somehow she never quite expected the Sirius Black she knew in third year to actually speak wisely. But people change.

Just as she thought that, he had to go and remind her that they might change, but not that much.

“And me. Not that you could, I could tell by this one’s stupid smirk,” he joked, wrapping an arm around James to pin him to his chest and mess up the already messy hair. Like it would make any difference.

This set the tone for the rest of the night. They filled it with cosy banter and no actual potions. Which maybe was actually what she needed after all.

[kiki-writes-stuff]

𝐓𝐞𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐓𝐞𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : fluff

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : none

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐥: please note that I'm a manhwa only, so my perception of the boys is based solely on what we've seen up till chapter 60 of the manhwa and researching their wiki pages and mbtis (studied for it like a damn test omg 😭).

a/n: this was inspired by this fic by @starry-nights-garden, ik ya'll are here for testar and not ateez, but they're an amazing author so if you happen to be an atiny do check them out!

𝐁𝐚𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐣𝐢𝐧:

Always puts you first

This may seem like something to be expected in any healthy relationship, but our little baby hamster takes it to a whole other level

He’s very shy and hesitant at first

But once he gets comfy with you and gains a little more confidence in his understanding of you and your needs…

Ooooooh boy you better prepare yourself

You mention in passing that you’re bored? He’s already running through his schedule in his head to try and find an opening so he can swing by your place with a list of activities he thinks you might enjoy

Something happened to upset you? He’s all ears, will find a way to slip out of practice just so he can videocall you and listen to you vent to get it out of your system 

You miss him? He’s honestly upset with himself for not realising he’s neglected you sooner, immediately drops whatever he can to make time for you

I still feel like he’d overthink and second guess himself a lot tho :(( always worries that maybe he isn’t giving you what you need, or that he’s too much or too little :((

So please give this baby lots of smiles and assurance! He needs to know that he’s reading your cues right, and that what he’s doing genuinely makes you happy

Because your happiness is always his top priority

𝐑𝐲𝐮 𝐂𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐨

Taking care of you

Now, one thing I’ve noticed about our boy Chungwoo is that he’s got a really strong sense of responibility and obligation, and I’m sure that’s something that would carry into the way he treats his partner

He sees it as his duty to make sure that you’re safe and comfortable at all times

The kinda guy to treat sidewalk and door rules like Law

If anything’s bothering you he makes it his personal mission to fix the problem

Which causes some friction at the beginning of your relationship because sometimes he can be a bit much about it

Like offering slightly unsolicited and overly practical advice 

That friend’s been giving you a hard time? Just ditch em cuz they obviously don’t deserve someone as amazing as you 🙄😮‍💨

Or blaming himself and getting frustrated if he can’t do anything to help fix the problem 

But eventually you talk it out, and once you assure him that it isn’t his job to make everything okay, and that he already helps you so much by being there to support you, he concedes and learns to be more chill about it

Still gets upset when you’re upset

But he knows to channel it in healthier ways now

Like helping you out with little chores when you’re stressed, checking in and offering to take care of more tedious things like laundry and groceries when he can

He never asks for anything in return because it’s HIS job to look after YOU

But is still absolutely not so secretly over the moon whenever you reciprocate that energy

Kicking his feet and giggling kinda happy that one time you dropped by the practice room to bring him lunch (bonus points if you made it yourself!)

𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐡𝐲𝐞𝐨𝐧:

Little things

My baby 🥺💕

My sweet precious little faerie prince 🥹✨️🌸

He’s gentle and soft in the way he loves you

But dear god it could not be less subtle 

Will bring you these random little gifts

Usually food (snacks, chocolates, coffee, milkshakes, muffins)

But sometimes it’s just things that reminded him of you

Like a stuffed animal that looked just like you, a sticker sheet in your favorite color, a keychain of a character you love, a postcard with a picture that made him think of you

Sends you texts throughout the day too

Pictures of flowers, the sky, a book he thinks you might like, a cute cat he saw on the way to the studio, a selfie Eugene forcibly took with him

Little reminders to eat, stay hydrated, “The weather report says it’ll be a bit colder than usual and that it might rain today, please make sure you dress warmly and bring an umbrella with you!”

Will randomly ramble about how much he loves you when he thinks knows you’re asleep or busy so you won’t read the texts till later

“I saw this quote on pinterest earlier today about how ‘intimacy is safety’ and I just wanted to tell you that that’s what you are to me. I always feel safe and comfortable when I’m with you, like there’s no one else in the world but us and I don’t have to worry about saying the right words or being misunderstood because I know our hearts are both fluent in silence, and as soon as I’m with you I’m home.” 

He thinks of these things when he’s with you tbh, like when you’re having coffee together and he watches the way you laugh and scrunch your nose when you smile

But he’s worried that if he tries to say it it’ll come out wrong :((

So he sets the feeling aside and it ends up accumulating into this neverending well of love and affection that he just HAS to let out somehow

So, basically, you’re on his mind 24/7 and he needs you to know that

You’re such a wonderful person ofc you deserve to know how loved you are :((

And so does he!! He’ll get all shy and squirm a bit whenever you tell him how much he means to you, or when you lean your head on his shoulder and thread your fingers through his own

But he’s smiling and blushing

If he’s feeling brave he’ll bring your hand up to his lips and kiss your knuckles

Adbhsafwilfhawliu I’m just so soft for him I’m sorry 

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐣𝐢𝐧:

Makes you laugh

There’s nothing he loves more than hearing you absolutely lose it

Even if you say you sound like dying frogs trapped in a windshield wiper

Will insist that it’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard

He’s lying, it’s not

But it makes him so happy to hear you so what does it matter?

The way your ears turn red and your face flushes as you try to hide it in a pillow or your hands

Or better yet his shoulder or chest

Sejin absolutely has physical touch as a love language 

His favorite thing is the way you cling to him when you laugh

Even if it means you hit him a few times in the process

Because sometimes a lot of the time once you’ve calmed down you don’t really move

You stop putting all your weight on him sure

But you stay tucked into his side and he gets to put an arm around you and look at the way your eyes are still sparkling and your lips are pulled into this giant grin

Bonus points if you’re shorter than him and he can look down at you without you really noticing 

Our boy is whipped

But not whipped enough to spare you from tickle fights 

If you’re a ticklish person he can and will use that to his advantage 

There have been one or two occasions where it got really intense and someone hit the other person in the nose or kneed them in the stomach

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐞:

Makes time for you

Listen

Listen 

This boy is literally singing and dancing for his LIFE okay

He’s a twenty nine year old in the body of a 20 year old with the soul of a sixty seven year old man

He doesn’t have time for all this trivial nonsense

…………….

Unless ofc you wanna go to that cute cafe you mentioned last week

Or that movie you really wanted to see is coming out this Friday

And yk if you really must have that spa day where you spend hours doing his nails and putting on face masks….

Who is he to deny you?

Sometimes his poker face does bother you

You’ll be rambling about something or enthusiastically making plans

When you suddenly realise he hasn’t said anything in a while

You feel bad and backtrack, apologising and saying you’re probably boring him or rushing into plans when he’s already so busy with performances and practice and whatnot

He actually looks surprised 

Quickly tells you you have nothing to be sorry for, he loves listening to you talk :((

And he’ll set aside time so you guys can go do the thing, ofc he will when you’re so excited about it >:((

He’s so matter of fact and blunt about it that there isn’t much room for doubt, and you’re back to happily telling about whatever it is that’s got your interest this week

Except this time, if you’re really paying attention

There’s this tiny smile resting contentedly on his face

Everything else can wait just a bit, just for a little while longer

𝐂𝐡𝐚 𝐄𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞:

Is your personal hype man!!

Eugene is one of the most passionate people in any universe, and he’s pretty straightforward when it comes to voicing his thoughts

So there’s no way he’s not the most vocal partner ever 

Whatever it is, whether you’re hitting an important academic/professional milestone or working hard for a personal goal, he’s right there cheering you on

Will catch you off guard sometimes though

Like he’ll suddenly get all serious, and tell you in the most sincere tone of voice you could imagine that he’s really proud of you

Before grinning and grabbing your hands

Will swing them back and forth while talking about how lucky he is to have such an amazing s/o

One of his favorite things is when you’re trying to choose an outfit for something and he gets a personal fashion show

He’s not really all that into fashion himself but he loves seeing all the outfits you come up with

Applauds and wolf whistles every time you step out

Except when he doesn’t 

There have been times where he goes quiet and says he doesn’t like an outfit

Confuses you because excuse?? You KNOW it looks good on you???

After some interrogation he grudgingly admits that it does look amazing on you… He just doesn’t want anyone else to see you in it 

He knows you’re a grown adult who can wear whatever they want wherever they want

But he still gets just a little bit jealous

You’re so gorgeous he can’t help it :((

After some cheek kisses and assurance he’s all good tho

10/10 would have an album on his phone that’s just pictures of you

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐑𝐚𝐞𝐛𝐢𝐧:

Includes you

My precious bby pt.2 🥹✨️

Now, we all know that Raebin is our little producer genius and very much introverted 

So when inspiration strikes and he’s caught up in the thick of it, he can sort of retreat into his own little world

And when he’s all tired from being around the other members and fans all day

He loves having you there with him

You don’t have to be doing anything in particular together, definitely don’t have to be talking (he loves you but his social battery can only take so much)

He just wants to know you’re close :((

He won’t be the one to instigate, but his brain fizzles into static noise for a second or two if you pull up a chair beside him (which is in there especially for you btw) and curl up next to him 

Doing work on your laptop, reading a webtoon on your phone, or reading a book 

You make eye contact when he looks over and you guys share a small smile :((

He’s so happy that you’re comfortable enough in his space to treat it as your own

Does the same if he’s in your space 

You could be sitting on your bed and he’ll sleepily shuffle into your room

If he’s awake enough he might stand just inside the door and knock a bit on the doorframe just to get your permission before walking in

But if he’s real tired and you guys have been together for a while baby feels so comfy and safe he briefly forgets manners and propriety and walks right in

Flops onto the bed beside you and lays his head on your tummy or thigh depending on how you’re sitting 

Falls asleep almost instantly if you start running your fingers through his hair 

Remember to reblog, comment, and like! Feedback is always appreciated, support your authors loves, don't be a stranger ૮꒰˶ ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶꒱ა

[venus-is-thinking]

DRDT Chapter 2 Episode 12: Initial Thoughts

Hello everyone! I thought it'd be fun to do a post going over some of my first thoughts from the episode after each release. "Initial" is a bit of a stretch, considering I did watch it a second time while making this post, but it's more "initial" in the context of being before the next episode drops. It's sort of like my "initial thoughts" of the Milgram MVs, which are actually the result of, like, 3 hours of obsessing and research, lol.

(By the way, @accirax and I watched the episode together, so apologies if her initial thoughts end up being, like, the same as mine.)

SPOILER WARNING FOR DRDT CH 2 EP 12!

T/W: Body image issues/body dysmorphia, murder, suicide

The Reactions

Confirmation of what I think most of us already suspected! I do think it's a little weird that Nico didn't bring up their testimony about all of the fish being there at the last time they fed the fish. That probably means it's being saved for later in the Trial, I guess?

It's okay Teruko, I saw literally no one in the entire fanbase figure this one out either!

Why is everyone so mean to her though. Everyone here has been an idiot in the Trials at LEAST once

God I missed David

This was so funny. Get his ass.

(In all seriousness, though, I do wonder if we're going to come back to what J said. I don't currently (?) think Arei was drenched, unless the real purpose of the water WAS just to confuse the time of death, so if the water didn't connect with her enough to cool her down, it might be weird that the body isn't warm after all.)

This took me out. Who let you say that. What.

Okay, but Ace, outside of a killing game... why. Like, literally why would a plastic surgeon need to know how to do an autopsy. King.

Like Felicity...? /hj

All in all, though, this was a really interesting character moment for Arturo! And god, the fact that he started learning medical knowledge and spedrun plastic surgery specifically since age 12 HAS to mean something. My vague theories of Felicity having struggles with body image/dysmorphia (Arturo's section of this post) are... maybe real???

Honestly, I'm starting to wonder if Arturo is going to go farther in this game. I don't expect him to survive or anything, but I could see it taking him a surprisingly long time to die. He feels like he's got too much lore to unpack to die, like, next chapter. Unless he gets HELLA focused next chapter, which is definitely possible.

This is so silly. I love them.

(Note: I'm not a Whit mastermind truther, but if I were, I would point out that MonoTV sort of covering up a rules violation for Whit could be relevant. I'm not a Whit mastermind truther though, so I think this is just a very silly joke a la "no wifi! why live :(" )

Well you see Eden, the killer would have actually had all night to prepare. If, say, they mentioned that they could dial in and focus on their work for like 14 hours straight, they could have gotten a lot done before 7:30 AM!

I'll talk about this more later, but the fact that J, David, Veronika, Hu and Nico seemingly have alibis that actually matter is so iconic. I can't believe that many theories died that quick. I'll talk about that more in my theories section, though!

It's been said before, but. Funniest fucking reaction to being declared innocent of murder.

"David still has a family history of depression even if that isn't his secret" nation where you at?

This one made me laugh out loud. Who does it like him

How truthful do we think David is in this next section? I refuse to believe it's 100% a lie, just because he's cooking SO hard on SOMETHING, but I could also believe David thinks he's lying to an extent. I could definitely see a "the best lies are based on the truth" kind of thing?

Also, damn. Xanvid really is real. LGI got me to believe it but WOW David's just being gay on main now

This was a really good, succinct way to have Teruko show her opposition to David's ideas. Even if it is to end the killing game or do something "good' or whatever, Teruko is still hurt and betrayed by what Xander did. Xander tried to kill her, and presumably would have tried to kill everyone else. David is now doing the same thing.

It's going to be really interesting if, whether genuine or not, David is kinda taking on Xander's position. That's going to give Teruko a reason to (outwardly) hate him even more. I'm really looking forward to learning more about how both Teruko and David view Xander.

Also, it's so fucking funny that Teruko and David are literally fighting over Xander. Like, valid, but. Guys.

(Also, David soooo knows Teruko's secret is the killing game is all your fault. Idk if he specifically knows that Xander's plan was to kill Teruko no matter what, but he's definitely caught on to some extent.)

This was crazy. Is Xander famous? Why would everyone recognize him? Like, did David just take particular notice of Xander because he's a simp, or is there something else going on?

Notably, it's also extremely interesting that David says "Even if you all lost a year of memories for this killing game." It almost implies that David didn't? What do you know???

Also, if David DOES have weird memories about this that no one else does, it's a really interesting comparison to Teruko remembering the existence of a killing game in the area investigation when she was talking to Veronika. Are these two getting special memory privileges because they're important? Or does everyone have some kind of memory that they all should have, but only one person knows each thing?

At first I was confused when David said this, because I really don't know how dear anyone in DRDT's life to him was other than Xander. But then I realized, if David is talking about killing 15 others and yourself, he's definitely still talking about Xander's mindset. Xander had something worth the lives of 16 people that he was trying to do.

I don't know how much David cares about ending the killing game. I wonder if "belief in Xander" is the thing he's willing to kill 13 people plus himself for?

I'm starting to get REALLY curious what J's deal is. Between this and her voiced line earlier in the trial saying something along the lines of "it's like you all still haven't grasped just how serious murder is," she definitely seems to have strong opinions on specifically the morality of killing other people. WHY is she being singled out with these beliefs, what does it say about her, and where is her character headed?

(If she is the mastermind, does this couple with the "all murderers must be held accountable" rule?)

"Any answer" is so funny. I think she's looking for the truthful answer, David. This is why no one believes you when you say anything ever /aff

Notably, this is VERY similar to the plan Eden came up with that Veronika described: using the fact that TV shows need entertainment to continue to end the killing game. It's the same thing, but with a much more depressed "everyone should just give up" kind of flavor.

The level of similarity does make me think David is probably not being 100% truthful, and that he just repurposed Eden's escape plan to be something sort of similar to what he was going for.

I do think that he WAS trying to defeat the killing game by killing people through the class trial. I just think that, between Xander's actions and the motive secret he received, he was trying to kill Teruko specifically. Yet another way that David's unhinged behavior ties into the Chapter 2 secrets.

*Hu hopeless child looms in the distance*

I'm so glad that Hu gets to pop off though. She really hasn't gotten, like, any content in the series so far. Here's hoping this is kicking off her getting a bunch of time to shine!

Interesting that they had both Ace and Hu cut Nico off in this interaction. The staging definitely implies that they're trying to show that while Ace is wrong for talking over Nico and not letting them say anything, Hu is also wrong to an extent for not letting Nico defend themself and running to their rescue all the time.

I am begging you. Please discuss the murder method. I didn't realize until my rewatch of the trial that they have actually literally not talked about the murder method at ALL except for telling David that he doesn't know shit about it.

HUH?????????????

Theory Update/Analysis

Well, I'm gonna start this off by saying that I'm still pretty locked into Eden being the killer. We still need to address the tape, and I personally still found her to be decently shifty now behavior wise (she seemed nervous when we turned back to solving the trial, and she says something about "it's too hard to narrow down the killer :/" when people were talking about morning alibis). I just think it makes the most sense.

While obviously my logic for why Levi would be the accomplice has to be at least somewhat flawed, given Levi's surprise confession (!!!), I still think it's possible that Levi is the accomplice here. He could be doing this to further confuse/complicate the state of things (hence why he calls it leading people astray), and it's possible he's not being 100% honest here.

Something that Levi could be doing here is taking control of the situation and spinning the truth in his favor. Hu mentioned earlier (e11, I think?) that the secrets are phrased dramatically. Similarly, Levi may be trying to offer an explanation for his secret that might be more tame, but still believable.

For example, if Levi says that he killed one of his parents because of the circumstances he grew up in, but it turned out that his parents were extremely abusive to him in some way (cough cough Amane Momose), wouldn't people be more willing to forgive the fact that he's a "murderer"? There are different levels to the culpability of murders.

So, it's definitely possible this is still an attempt by Levi to conceal the truth of his secret. It's true that, right now, no one's really trying to match all of the remaining secrets up with the remaining secret holders in-universe, but the entire fanbase pretty much slam dunked this one. Once the content of the secrets was revealed, it wasn't too difficult to track the origin of this secret to Levi. Levi might know that, and might be trying to spin it in a positive way while he can get everyone's attention and tell everyone the same narrative here in the class trial.

I don't think any Levi accomplice or killer truthers have to fully give up on the idea, or at least not until we see what Levi actually says after this. It's a WILD topic to reveal we're going to talk about, but we haven't actually talked about it yet. If we were told "we get David's motivations for trying to throw the trial," I doubt literally any of us would have locked in the prediction of "David is trying to follow in Xander's footsteps by killing everyone via the trial because he kind of remembers Xander." So, until next week, I'm keeping an open mind!

This was insane. I can't believe we actually got a new episode, and that we're gonna KEEP getting new episodes until the chapter finishes. What the fuck!!!

[therealdisneyfan2319]

The Spider and The Witch Chapter 1: The Experiment and The Flu

Summary: Peter Parker and Y/N L/N are junior biochem majors at Empire State College.  Peter needs a volunteer for his research project, and a series of events leads Y/N to come down with the flu...or does he?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Language, blood, needles, description of medical procedures

Word Count: 3.6K

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

“I don’t know how I managed to let you talk me into going to the lab with you this early.”  You stretched your arms out as you yawned, keeping your arm just so to keep your coffee upright.

“Dude.  It’s 10 am,” Peter chuckled.

“These good looks don’t just happen, man.  I need a full nine hours.”

“Maybe if you went to bed before 3 am-” “Now wait a minute.  You’re lecturing me about going to bed early when you used to pull all-nighters slinging webs around Queens?”

“Shut up!” He swatted your arm before you had the chance to pull away.  “At least I was doing something productive with my life, not playing Pokemon-” “Completing the Pokedex is extremely productive.  Now it might not be the same kind of productive as extracting the Spidey mutation from your genome sequence, but categorizing all the Pokemon from the Galar region is an important, time-consuming task.”

Peter rolled his eyes as he rolled down the sidewalk next to you.  You chuckled, taking a sip of your coffee as you shook your head.  This sort of banter was typical of your friendship.  Peter was one of your closest friends and easy to joke with, but you also worked well together.  It didn’t hurt that you were both biochem majors and had the same sort of scientific mind.  Since you met in world civ last fall the two of you had been as thick as thieves.  It didn’t matter that he was three years older than you, a grade above you, or that he used to be Spider-Man.  Finding out that the guy in the Stark tech wheelchair who loved Led Zeppelin and Star Wars was once the friendly neighborhood superhero was not what you expected when you went over to his dorm to hang out for the first time.  Peter was used to people freaking out when they found out and was thrilled when you shrugged it off.  

“So what exactly are we doing today?” you asked.  You had volunteered to help him out with a research project he was working on.  He hadn’t told you much about it, only that it was being funded by Tony Stark and dealt with genome sequencing. 

“Nothing too crazy.  I need to take samples of your blood.  I’ll use those as test subjects against my blood.  That’ll be the control sample.”  He punched in a sequence on the keypad on the arm of his chair.  Tank tracks dropped down from the bottom of the seat as the chair began to climb the stairs to the science building.  

“You know how to take blood?” you asked, holding the door open for him as he wheeled into the building.

“Yeah, well…yeah.  I mean Sam taught me how to start an IV and drawing blood is the same principle, right?  You gotta find the vein.”

“Oh my god I’m gonna die,” you mumbled as you turned down the hall toward the lab Peter worked out of.  It was one of the newest labs on campus.  Tony Stark had donated a sizable amount of money toward the Empire State College science and research division with the provision that all the money go toward funding better facilities for students.  The new building had just opened at the beginning of the semester.  Peter was more than excited to have a space stocked with the latest Stark technology to work on his newest endeavor.  It was more convenient than trying to head upstate to the Avengers Compound a few times a week.

“I won’t let you bleed out on me, man.  Worst comes to worst we’ll just throw some webs on it and send you to New York Pres.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better about all of this?  Because it’s totally not.”  You hated needles.  You hated doctors.  The thought of someone who was decidedly NOT a medical professional fishing around your elbow for a vein made your stomach flip flop.  Maybe a large coffee wasn’t the best idea for breakfast…

The bright fluorescent lights in the lab snapped on as you opened the door.  They seemed unnecessary as sunlight flooded the windows that took up the entirety of the easternmost wall.  The overhead haze added to the sterile feel of the room: the latest in Stark Technology, ranging from microscopes and test tubes to autoclaves and fabricators, shone brightly against the lights.  It was nerd heaven, stuffed to the brim with everything anyone could ever need for any experiment they could dream of.  You threw your backpack on a lab table adjacent to where Peter was setting up his laptop.  Once you were done helping him out, you figured you’d swing by the library to start cracking on the paper for your art history course.

“So I already took my own samples earlier this week,” he explained. “I’m storing them in the fridge over there.  Mind grabbing them for me?” He motioned with his head to the mini fridge that sat next to the sink.  You walked over to the fridge, seeing a rack of blood vials sitting on the bottom shelf amongst the Petri dishes of spores and sole can of Coke.  “Don’t drop it,” he cautioned as grabbed a ziploc baggie of medical supplies out of his bag.

“Whoop.”  You fake tripped, stumbling around and swinging the tray to and fro aimlessly.  He shot you a somewhat serious glare.  You returned a toothy grin.  

“Dude if you drop that-”

“Relax, Pete.  I’ve got steady hands.”  You placed the tray on the table in front of him with the grace of a swan.  “See?” You raised your hands up defensively.  “Steady hands.  I should be a goddamn surgeon.”

“Ah yes, Dr. Y/N L/N, the surgeon who hates blood.”  He dumped the contents onto the table.  Out fell some rubber gloves, a rubber tourniquet, needles, tubes, alcohol wipes, and cotton balls.  You gulped at the sight of the paraphernalia.  “So why don’t you just sit there and roll up your sleeve so we can do this.”

“Are you sure you can’t just, like, prick my finger?”  Plopping onto the stool you rolled up the sleeve of flannel.  

“Do you want to sit here and fill up these tubes one drop at a time?” Peter asked from the sink.  The tray of tubes, empty ones and ones full of his blood, sat next to him as he washed his hands.

“Good point,” you muttered.  It felt like you were chewing on the flannel from your shirt.

“Just relax, I did it on myself the other day and I turned out just fine.”  There was a slight waver in your friend’s voice as he spoke.  Try as he might to hide it, Peter was nervous, too.  He snapped on the baby blue gloves.  You turned your head away, refusing to look until he was done.  “Can you just make a fist for-good okay, yup, I see the vein.”  The sudden coolness of the alcohol against your skin made you shiver, but you refused to look.  Even as you felt the slight prick of the needle against your skin you kept your eyes firmly shut.  “Told you I wouldn’t let you bleed out,” he chuckled, replacing the now full vial with an empty one.

“How many vials do you need?”  You strained your neck as you tried to look as far away as you could from the scene unfolding in front of you.

“I don’t know, I did six of my own.  That should be enough,” Peter shrugged.  

Six vials of blood?  Why did you even decide to do this in the first place?  You could’ve been back in your dorm in the comfort of your bed, sleeping the morning away, instead of having your blood forcibly removed from your body.  Peter definitely owed you big time.  

He removed the tube from your arm, handing you a cotton ball to stop the bleeding.  “That should be it.  Mind putting those back in the fridge for me?”  

The second your feet hit the floor your knees wobbled.  It was probably psychosomatic, but the sight of all your blood sitting inches outside where it should be made you the slightest bit queasy.  “Yeah, no problem.”  You shook your head quickly.  There was no way you were going to let yourself puke or, even worse, drop the vials and have to do it all over again.  

It took all your effort not to look down at the plastic tray in your hands.  You concentrated all your effort on staring down the refrigerator.  That ultimately meant neglecting your untied shoelace.  Before you realized what was happening you found yourself tripping over your feet.  While you managed to not lose your balance completely, the sudden jolt sent two of the vials crashing to the floor.

“Shit,” you mumbled as you set the tray on the floor.  There were shards of glass and blood splattered across the marble tile.  You quickly glanced over your shoulder, hoping Peter hadn’t seen your mistake.  Much to your relief he was engrossed in his notebook.  That bought you some time to quickly clean up the mess.  You looked around for a roll of paper towels, spotting the roll next to the sink and tearing off a few sheets.  The crimson puddles looked like they’d be easy enough to clean up.  Not thinking too much about it, you knelt down and started blotting at the spill.  A sudden stab caused you to recoil from the ground in pain.  As you examined your hand, you noticed a small scratch on the pad of your thumb.  

“You good?” Peter’s voice broke you away from staring at your hand.

“Yeah.  Dropped one of the vials and cut myself.  I’m good.”

“Was it one of mine or yours?”

“Uhh, mine.”  Truth be told you had no idea if it was yours or his.  There was no way to know which vial was which.  Peter knew.  He probably had it marked down in his laptop or something.  But you remembered that his vials were facing you when you pulled them out of the fridge.  That meant yours were away from you and there was an empty spot there.  Yeah, it’s mine.  “You need me for anything else?”

“Nah, you’re good,” Peter focused intensely on his laptop, typing away as you finished cleaning up your mess and putting the samples away.  “Are we still on for dinner tonight?  Ned’s dying to try out that new Thai place on Watts Street.”

“Yeah, shoot me a text.  I’m headed to the library for a bit.”  You slung your backpack over your shoulder as you headed for the door.  “See you.”

“Thanks again, Y/N.”

******

You spent the rest of the day in the library researching and typing and revising your paper.  The minutes ticked by as you lost yourself in the endless barrage of Western paintings you thought looked all too similar.  Yet as the day passed you found yourself feeling strange.  At first you thought you had been studying too long.  The words on your laptop screen seemed fuzzy and you found yourself re-reading the same paragraph on Donatello about a dozen times before anything seemed to click.  Then the library seemed to drop ten degrees before abruptly shooting up another twenty.  Sweat on the back of your neck ran down your shirt and chilled you as fast as it cooled you off.  The lights were suddenly too bright and even the silence was too loud.  

Shit, you thought to yourself as your felt heat radiating off your forehead.  It was probably the flu.  It had been making the rounds through campus for the better part of a month, so you weren’t completely surprised.  Closing your laptop and shoving your books in your bag, you texted Peter as you left the library:

Got the flu.  You and Ned go without me.  I’m gonna go to bed.

The walk back to your apartment wasn’t long, but it was a near-impossible task in your ever-worsening condition.  Every step felt like you were trudging through molasses.  Your legs were as heavy as cement and you prayed you wouldn’t trip because you weren’t sure you’d be able to get up again.  Tears clouded your vision.  Rubbing your eyes didn’t help.  The only thing on your mind was downing half a bottle of Nyquil and passing out as soon as you got back to your room.  

Much to your relief you walked into an empty apartment.  Peter and Ned must’ve already left for dinner.  You kicked your shoes off and dropped your bag at the front door.  There was no doubt in your mind that this was the flu: you felt like absolute garbage as you shuffled to your bedroom.  As you flopped on the bed, clothes and all, your body felt like it was made of lead.  Bone-crushing fatigue consumed you as you shivered on top of your bedspread.  You prayed that you’d be able to get a little bit of sleep to help dull the pain.

When you woke the following morning, you were surprised to find that you didn’t feel sick at all.  In fact, you felt better than you had in a long time.  There wasn’t any evidence that you felt so poorly only a few hours ago.  You swung your legs around to the side of the bed and stared at the floor as you thought about what you were going to do all day, but when you tried to stand up something was off.  As you stretched your arms above your head, you felt something engulf you: it was your blanket.  It was stuck to your hands.  

Did I spill Nyquil on my hands? you wondered as you tugged at the fuzzy fabric.  No, I didn’t take any Nyquil last night.

It took a considerable amount of effort to tear just one of your hands away only for it to stick on the wall as you balanced against it for support.  Paint flaked away as you ripped your hand away.  At that point you weren’t sure if you were still asleep or not.  Squeezing your eyes shut, you reopened them to find flakes of drywall still attached to your fingers.  What the hell?  You shook your hands, trying to free yourself of the debris, but as you flicked your wrist downward, you heard a loud thwack.  The sticky white residue covered Marty McFly’s face on the Back to the Future poster that hung next to your bed.  That same white residue balled up on the inside of your wrist.  When you tried to pull it off, a long spindly web came with it.

Oh fuck.

The implications of what just happened were huge to say the least.  The vial you broke yesterday wasn’t yours: it was Peter’s.  His blood contaminated yours when you cut yourself and now you had…spidey powers?  It couldn’t be.  This all had to be some sort of nightmare.  You were just a normal guy trying to make it through college relatively unscathed.  Sure, your roommate was an Avenger and that was a little weird, but other than that your experience was pretty normal.  You had no interest in having superpowers or saving the world whatsoever.  

“Everything okay in there, man?” Peter asked as he rapped on your door.  It momentarily snapped you out of your panic.

“Uhh yeah, yeah.  I’m good,” you hollered through the door, still looking at the web in your hand.  

“You sure?”

“Yeah.  I’m okay.  Just, uhh, knocked my blankets off the bed.”  You wiped the web up with a tissue, praying that it wouldn’t stick to your hand, too.  It didn’t, much to your relief.  

“How are you feeling?” he called as you started taking off your clothes from the day before.  A long shower would help you figure out what your next move was.  

“Good.  Great actually.  I feel fine,” you responded, throwing your dirty t-shirt on the ground.  “How was dinner?” “It totally sucked, man.  You didn’t miss much,” Ned’s voice was faint as he yelled from the kitchen.  

“Bummer.  I told you that you should’ve done Indian instead.”

“Well hey if you’re feeling better why don’t we go for lunch?” Your stomach grumbled at the thought, but images of getting stuck to the subway pole loomed in your mind.  “Yeah, sure,” you responded absentmindedly while kicking your pants off and grabbing a clean pair of sweats off your bed.  

Wearing nothing but your boxers, you opened the door fully intending to go straight to the bathroom.  The second Peter and Ned saw you their jaws dropped.

“Dude!” Peter exclaimed. 

“Wha-?”  

“Woah!  Y/N, when did you get ripped?” Ned asked.  You were thoroughly confused.  None of your hobbies included going to the gym or working out.  What were they talking about?  The lights came on in the bathroom and as your eyes adjusted to the brightness you were shocked.  It was like someone took a  chisel to your body overnight.  There were muscles in places you didn't know there could be muscles.  The reflection in the mirror showed you defined pecs, swollen biceps, and the faintest outline of a six pack.

“What the hell?” you mumbled in disbelief.  Your fingers traced over your chest, taking in the new body you’d inadvertently fallen into.  It was a surreal experience seeing an unfamiliar body in the mirror.  It was almost like you were watching someone else live your life while you watched from outside yourself.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Y/N?” Peter asked as he wheeled himself in front of the bathroom door.

“Yeah.  I’ve just got spidey powers now.”  It didn’t even feel like you were the one saying those words.  Haze clouded your periphery, forcing you to focus on the newness of your body.  It was an out-of-body experience in every way.  There was no way to really process the profundity of the situation.  

“You WHAT?”

Time stopped.  Everything stopped.  Peter’s face contorted with dozens of emotions in the blink of an eye.  Glass shattered on the kitchen floor as Ned’s glass slipped out of his hand.  

“Umm, yeah I guess.  I’m starting to think that was your blood that I cleaned up yesterday.”  You half expected Peter to be furious at the truth, but the beaming grin on his face told you otherwise.

“It worked!  Holy shit it WORKED!”  He spun his chair around excitedly, whooping all the while.  “Mr. Stark, oh man, he’s gonna be so excited!  He’ll want to meet you.  Man, now he doesn’t even need to look for someone to be the next Spider-Man because…oh this is great, I can teach you everything!  That way you’ll be WAY ahead of where he thinks you should be and he’ll let you onto the team fas-”

“The next Spider-Man?”

“I mean yeah, Mr. Stark will definitely want to talk to you about it,” Peter replied.

“Dude, I’d kill to be Spider-Man!” Ned added, sweeping up what remained of his glass.

“No way, absolutely not,” you groused as you stormed out of the bathroom.  “No offense, Pete, but I don’t want to be an Avenger.”

“You don’t have to make a decision now.  I don’t even know if he’ll ask.  I mean he probably will but that doesn’t mean anything.  He might just want you to come in to do, like, more testing or something.”  Peter gingerly walked back his excitement.  The prospect of training the next Spider-Man brought a sense of optimism back into his life that had long been forgotten.  Losing his identity as the local neighborhood web slinger stripped away a core part of his identity: Peter Parker and Spider-Man were one in the same.  Sure, he still used his powers and webs when he could, but it wasn’t the same.  Tony had offered to make him an exosuit after the accident, but he knew that he couldn’t do it anymore.  One close brush with death was more than enough for him.

“Look,” you sighed, “I’m not you.  I don’t want to go out and swing through Manhattan and stop burglars or fight weird lizard things.  I just want to be a normal guy doing normal guy things with my normal guy friends if I can even call the two of you normal.”  Peter chuckled half-heartedly.

“Wait, can you stick to the ceiling?” Ned suddenly asked.  You sighed again, shaking your head as you extended your arm up and jumped: you stuck.  “Woah!  That’s sweet!”

“Yeah, it is kinda cool I guess,” you chuckled as you watched your fingertips completely suspend your dead weight from the ceiling.  Getting used to your new body was a curious sensation.  Everything felt sharper.  Colors were brighter and bolder.  You saw incredibly small movements even from the corners of your eye.  Your body felt stronger and faster and more agile.  It was strange, spending your entire life as a regular human being and then waking up one day twenty years later with these weird spidery feelings tingling inside you.  

“Do you want one of my web shooters?” Peter asked as you dropped down.

“Web shooters?”

“Yeah,” Peter replied questioningly as he raised an eyebrow.  “You don’t think I can actually make webs, do you?”

You responded by mimicking the hand gesture Peter frequently showed you, flicking your wrist downward as a raveled strand of webs flew out of your wrist.  Peter ducked his head out of the way in the knick of time while Ned’s jaw dropped in amazement.  

“Didn’t see that coming, did you?”

[tae-rambles]

OP ch 1120 SPOILERS

My reaction as i read:

hi Denjiro where did you come from? was he just on a walk or did he come to meet w Yamato on purpose? also he's the new daimyo of Kibi? did we know that already or is it a new info i cant remember

also i like how Yamato is like "no need for all this, its ok"

a flashback?

oh... never even crossed my mind to ask why was Clover arrested and let go so many times... thats clever

"answer to good and evil"? what does that mean

oh my god another D family! (how do you even pronounce that surname) i wonder which other characters we know of were/are hiding the initial...

i wonder what changed Vegapunk's mind to continue Ohara's research and risking his life if he couldnt understand why Clover did it those 22 years ago

hi Zeff, Patty :D

oh Robin... this is making me sad

damn Atlas...

wtf was that "snap" coming from Lilith

oh Atlas please dont tell me youre about to do what i think

good job Atlas but can ppl pls stop sacrificing themselves for at least five minutes my heart cant take it

but what about Stussy? she can skywalk so she might be fine?

the Marines are just so out of their depth lol

Luffy can hear Emet! :D Luffy's so confused lol

lmao Emet's immediately annoyed w him i cant

oh Emet, he's so sweet! i love himm!! "i've known Emet for only a couple of chapters but if anything happens to him i'm gonna kill Oda and then myself"

aaaah he's talking to you Luffy! but i like how Oda keeps emphasizing that Luffy is his own person, not Nika, not Joyboy, but Luffy

"but there are those who cannot be stopped" under the imposing worm Peter going in for an attack - love this visual storytelling

uh oh... Emet's rusty

and still fended the worm off! you rock Emet! :D

Saturn doing a jumping spider impression

dont fucking talk to the precious Kuma and Bonney you damn spider!

Atlas! D: my poor heart! this is just Pedro all over again

fuck off, York

dont you dare Emet dont you fucking dare! no more sacrificing yourself! no more blowing yourself up! i said no! D:< (also Peter bit off his arm :( )

oh, right, the general population didn't know Roger was a D

Great chapter as always :D, even though it was painful, can't wait for the next one...

i really hope Emet won't sacrifice himself here but it seems that's where it's headed... dammit!

EDIT: i've thought about this some more and was Joyboy really someone who would instruct his people to sacrifice themselves for him and his cause? that doesn't sound right. so maybe Emet has something else up his sleeve?

also, Emet is the second person to lose their arm to a snake-like monster while protecting Luffy. both Emet and Shanks were also waiting for the awakening of the Nika fruit to make their move it seems. i wonder if there are any other parallels between them...

[thefirstknife]

Speaking of weird things in the season already, I'm back with the obsession with names of things in the seasonal activity.

So in Riven's Lair, you get randomly assigned "missions" that change with each run. I believe there's five of them as I've played a lot of Riven's Lair so far and only got these five to rotate. Maybe there will be more in weeks to come!

Anyway, if you look in the top left corner when you start the activity, it will tell you the name of the mission you're on. The names that I've seen so far are:

Polysemy

Apophasis

Synchysis

Enthymeme

Tautology

Long post under:

These aren't random words! They're all related to language and rhetoric, which makes sense with the Ahamkara theme as Ahamkara are very dependent on the way language is used around them.

Polysemy is when words or symbols are capable of having multiple meanings. Apophasis is when you speak about something by denying it or mentioning it by saying it's not required to be mentioned (def check examples on wikipedia if this is confusing). Synchysis is also a way of speaking in a way that deliberately messes up the order of words to confuse or surprise the person you're speaking to. Enthymeme is a type of an argument where you construct a sentence which tells some sort of a fact by omitting the way you came to that conclusion because the fact should be obvious on its own (again, check wiki for examples, it will be easier to understand). And tautology has a meaning in both language and logic; in language, a tautology is a statement that repeats something, adding redundant information and in logic, a tautology is a logical formula in which a sentence is constructed in a way that every interpretation of the sentence is true.

I doubt these words were chosen randomly and there might be more or perhaps more will cycle in during weeks to come. But even with just this, there's a pattern. I'm not sure which meaning of tautology is being used here; possibly the language one because it fits the rest, but the logic interpretation could also be possible.

The first week's mission was also specifically Polysemy:

I assume next weeks we'll probably do other specific ones in some order, which would also mean there should be at least 2 more. I'm wondering if there's some sort of a reason why these specific words were chosen. Obviously they all relate to forms of speaking and language which is the primary way that Ahamkara use to affect reality; speaking in specific terminology and using particular phrases and language forms is important to them and when speaking to them.

But given the involvement of the Vex, it also reminded me of the lore book Aspect in which every chapter is named after grammatical, linguistic and logic terms. Aspect is also specifically related to the Black Garden and Sol Divisive. Not only that, but Aspect deals with, among other things, the fate of the Ishtar scientists and their copies in the Vex Network, and primarily uses Chioma as their main viewpoint, and the whole situation with Neomuna and Veil Logs has returned my interest in this lore book.

I feel like it isn't a coincidence that we've spent essentially the entire year reacquainting ourselves with Chioma and Maya and Ishtar as a whole only to bring back Sol Divisive and the Black Garden back in the final season in this way. As the Veil Logs told us, one of Maya's copies interfered with one of the logs, sending signals, and Chioma, at the end of her life, contacted the Vex presumably to be consumed by the network so she could possibly reunite with one of the copies of Maya in there.

This brought me also to the mysterious signal from Scatter Signal lore tab in which Osiris tracks down some sort of a signal that seems to be talking about the Vex, but spoken in a strange way. So I began thinking that this signal might be coming from Chioma, consumed by the Vex, from the Vex Network, reaching out to the man who's been studying her, living in Neomuna and researching the Veil for months. Specifically, the final Veil Log mentioned a few similar words and phrases being repeated. Specifically, when Osiris mentions that Chioma was researching "the entaglement of Light and Dark" and when Nimbus and Osiris discuss "parallel connections and parallel energy fields;" then in the Scatter Signal message there's mention of how, presumably, the Vex are trying to "move from parallel to entanglement." The Veil Log also talks about how the Witness can communicate through our Ghosts and how that connection might be going both ways; Scatter Signal also mentions "bridging communion with a Voice."

Copies of Chioma and the other scientists (with the help of Praedyth) once tried to use the Black Garden to send a message out of the Vex Network, detailed in Aspect. We don't know if they succeeded (at least in our current timeline). The Black Garden has been a big focus in Lightfall almost out of nowhere in such an immensely world-changing way (with the explanation of the Black Heart), and it will still be important this season with the exotic mission. It's a very pleasing loop of the story; everything started with the Black Garden in D1 and everything just before TFS might end with it. I'm also incredibly intrigued by the fact that the returning weapons from Undying (a season about the Sol Divisive and the Black Garden) have returned with a new perk called nano-munitions: very Neomuna-sounding name. Perhaps certain Ishtar scientists are influencing the Vex or extending a helping hand to us.

The questions that remain: how does this tie back to the Ahamkara? Why are the Vex interested in the Ahamkara? What do the Ahamkara have to do with the Black Garden? What's with all the strange language terminology that deals with double meanings and ways to confuse? Is it just regular Ahamkara shenanigans to trick us? To trick the Vex? Maybe both?

The point is, I don't think this is as simple as Riven just being sad that all the Ahamkara are dead and wanting to secure her clutch. Nothing is ever simple with the Ahamkara and nothing is ever simple with the Vex; and now we're dealing with both. And somewhere in all of this, there is also a concerning involvement of the Black Garden that connects to both of these elements. At the end of it all, there's us, who rely on this specific combination of elements to get through the portal, pursue the Witness and save the universe.

Spreading the brain worms to the rest of y'all to think about. If you spot any other mission names, feel free to share, though I think that if they happen, they might happen in the coming weeks. Also as I mentioned before, I know there's been leaks and lore tabs unlocking early on Ishtar: I've not seen any leaks or cutscenes and have not read any lore tabs that aren't explicitly visible in-game so if there's a really simple answer in that leaked material, I don't know about it and don't want to know about it so please don't spoil to me or to others!

[codenamesazanka]

Deku’s not rejecting the 'great hero' label from All Might, and by Chapter 425, still doesn't seem more broken up about being unable to save Shigaraki. Which I think means he wasn't actually all that serious about his save. 

If he had really, truly wanted to save this Crying Child, and really, stubbornly thought he could and would, Shigaraki/Tenko’s death is a huge failure. A black mark on his values and aspirations. Failing to save a little child is just unacceptable. There’s no excuse for it, no comforting words in the aftermath, nothing. If Eri had gotten blown up during the Overhaul fight, I guarantee you Deku would be hysterical. Inconsolable. That sad abused 6-year-old he wanted to save just died. 

That Deku isn't any of that right now - or when he was conversing with Shigaraki in Shigaraki last’s moments, or when Shigaraki’s body was falling apart - means he knew Shigaraki wasn't 1-to-1 the Crying Child, he knew he wasn't actually dealing with a 5-year-old. He knew he can't actually save that 5-year-old, can't actually bring him into reality to cradle in his arms like Eri. It’s pretty obvious.

-> Deku did not believe Shigaraki was actually The Crying Child. To him, Shigaraki was an adult villain (whose life he values less than an actual innocent child - which is fair. That’s the standard belief.)

So… why repeat that mantra of 'Save The Crying Child'? Why focus so wholly on that psychic vision to the exclusion of anything else? This is already pretty gross - he’s ignoring the adult man in front of him for a psychic vision ghost child.

Then, it must be: Deku has to have known in some way that the Crying Child was only an inner representation of some trauma Shigaraki was carrying.

He'll be dealing with some mental wound inside of Shigaraki; he'll be working out Shigaraki's trauma and what exactly made him such an angry villain. Maybe healing that trauma might just cause Shigaraki to stop his rampage. 

And yet, despite knowing this was how things are, Deku never engages with Shigaraki in any way that opens up this avenue of investigation. He doesn't research anything about Shigaraki’s mental state or background or just his overall character, despite having hundreds of Shigaraki’s captured army sitting in jail cells, despite having core League member Mr. Compress right there, who evidently cared enough about his leader to mutilate himself to show Shigaraki to escape. 

Deku doesn't talk to Shigaraki, never asking questions, never calling for parley, never even just trying. If he shouted random things to Shigaraki - Do you like dogs? Isn't Danger Sense wild? If you sink Japan, that means you'll have to swim, so are you a good swimmer? - and Shigaraki ignored them, that'd be one thing. The most Deku does is to still yell about 'not ignoring the inner crying child’, but that's a statement of his (patronizing) intent. Not actually anything that invites Shigaraki to reciprocate, to create the start of a back-and-forth connection.

One might argue: Shigaraki could have responded to the ‘Crying Child’ comment so that Deku has something to work with… and Shigaraki actually does. In Chapter 412, Shigaraki says Deku is trying to fit him into his narrow worldview, when that crying child has turned into Shigaraki Tomura… But that’s not an answer that Deku accepts. He dismisses it entirely, to focus again on The Crying Child he saw. Deku doesn’t work with Shigaraki’s answer at all; it’s true the vestiges start talking to him, but Deku said himself ‘I have to ask why [Shigaraki] can’t let go of that lonely past of his’... then does not ask.

But before that, it’s not on Shigaraki to make the connection here, because he has no reason or intention to - it's entirely on Deku because Deku made it his motivation. And so it's also on Deku for refusing to latch onto any of the things Shigaraki does say: everything he’s witnessed in this world, the only thing that will save him is destruction, flattening Mt. Fuji for Spinner.

Deku supposedly wants to understand - wants connection - but it seems only on his terms, on the topic he dictates, with answers he likes. That's the farthest thing from establishing a rapport enough to even approach any inner trauma. Forget healing anything. How can he heal Shigaraki’s heart if he has no interest in what exactly lies inside of it? No, the Crying Child doesn't count. Like I said, that's the topic he dictates. 

-> Deku understood that the Crying Child was symbolic of pain that Shigaraki covered with a lid, yet when Shigaraki deigned not to share details, didn’t care much to find a way to uncover that lid beyond punching the crap out of Shigaraki.

This means… what, exactly?

There are many possible answers. None of them are good. He doesn’t actually respect Shigaraki very much, or at all. He’s only interested in Shigaraki affirming something for him. He thinks Shigaraki is despicable, but is at least nice enough to want to stop his pain - though not nice enough to do it non-violently. It’s less about Shigaraki and more about his own ego. He wanted to save Shigaraki, but also wanted him punished, so his save was brutal. 

But all that really boils down to this: Deku did not see Shigaraki as a full person, and did not treat him as such.

The Crying Child was a curiosity. He wanted to save The Crying Child to fulfill his own satisfaction. The manga backs it up:

Shigaraki, speaking through memory-visage: Say you learn more. What then? Say you expose his past to the light. Will that change a damn thing?  Deku: I don’t know! But letting this end without finding out wouldn’t sit right with me!

"letting this end without finding out wouldn’t sit right with me"

Deku doesn’t know. He doesn’t have a plan for what happens after receiving that information - no use, no application, no intentions. There’s no logic to his action here - it simply doesn’t ‘sit right’ with him. This is about his feelings. This is about fulfilling his own instinct to save. If he manages to make Shigaraki feel better, that’s good, but that’s a bonus.

Deku, during the battle, doesn’t even know if he can make Shigaraki feel better. He has no notebook full of ideas to make sure that saving Shigaraki’s heart will be the guaranteed outcome. He simply wants to try, because he wants to save, because it’s about his desire to be a Hero. The coolest thing someone can do. 

[britt-kageryuu]

The stream is pretty quiet today, Leo is reading fan suggested fanfiction again, though he's not reading them out loud this time. His model is in dressed in his unicorn onesie again, and holding a tablet, seated on a blue inflatable chair, on the beach set.

The current story title, series, and genre, is on screen with tags/warnings along with chapter and word count.

Some instrumental music is playing in the background to fill the silence while everyone reads. Though some who don't want to read are just playing games in the chat, like a MOD or River/Shelldon posts a set of emotes/emojis and the chat guesses what they mean/translate them. While some are literally just watching Leo's model 'read' something on the tablet.

Leo every now and then pauses to makes some comments about the story, talk about the cliches and tropes, makes guesses on what might happen next, or complain about something with the authors writing style that just bothers him for some reason.

A notification suddenly goes off, but it's not a stream notification, it's coming from Leo's phone that is being picked up by the mic. Leo grabs it, and his model freezes up as he reads over what the notification was for.

He puts down the tablet and phone, and quickly gets up, leaving the range of the camera. The microphone just barely picks up random noises, some clattering and shuffling, but not clear hints about what's happening. Not even from River and Shelldon are telling anyone what's happening.

A number of minutes later Leo returns to the scene, and just collapsed into his chair.

"Well everyone. I was just given the news that ours Pops is a bit under the weather. Don't worry he's not going to have any health crisis. This is a fairly standard sickness that hits him this time of year." Leo pauses to take a quick drink, "We're pretty sure it's because of the weather, and the main reason I'm still here, and not heading home. Is because Pop's reaction to the cold and his medication leaves him a bit... how do I put this... Loopy? Maybe?"

Leo seems to be thinking it over, "Like he gets hot flashes and will walk around in his underwear while blasting the AC, he'll start telling us random stories that sound like he's writing Lou Jitsu fanfiction, he becomes Stupidly clingy, and he will at times act like a ninja, and either avoid us, or ambush us around the house." He lets out a sigh of frustration, "I've been trying to make some medicine to help him, but it doesn't have much effect, and once made it somehow worse."

The audience is very confused, because they can't tell if Leo is telling the truth or trolling them again. Especially since some who've done medical research/studies have never heard of this combination of behaviors with any form of sickness, let alone with medicine involved. Only other substances.

Leo picks up his tablet, and starts messing with the layout on the stream. "So since I don't know how long this will last, I'll be adjusting the stream to keep going until I get word back from Dr-Dad how Pops is doing. Now this isn't necessarily a Sub or Donothon, but as you can see." He brings up a menu style list with prices or a progress bar next to different activities, "You can send bits, or donations to choose what I do for the next who knows how long."

Suddenly his phone is going off with multiple notifications.

"That's just my Siblings. Red is staying with his GF, though Dee, and Mandarin might join me later. It all depends on how their plans go." Leo says all this with a slightly dismissive tone, and ignoring his phone.

The audience just kept speculating, but got no answers as they watched Leo jump around a few different activities, and sometimes check his messages.

-----------------

Masterpost

Yes, Splinter still gets the Rat Flu. Leo tried to make a medicine to help, but it didn't really work.

[changingplumbob]

Villareal: Chapter 6, Part 5

Joey's night concludes and preparation for family brunch begins.

CW: Moderate sim spice. Content Warning Guide

Luna (mummy) and Devin (mama) use some German and Italian. Bambino/s (Italian) Male child/children Buongiorno (Italian) Good morning Caro (Italian) Dear Nonna/Nonno (Italian) Grandfather/Grandmother Piccolo (Italian) Little one Zia/Zio (Italian) Aunt/Uncle

Joey wakes up with a start. He’s lying on his bedroom floor?

Marianna: Are you okay?

Joey: Marianna? What happened? We were just…

Joey pushes himself up feeling very confused. He was just at the nightclub. He’s used to the quickness of loading screens but this was something different. His genius mind is telling him to remain calm and gather facts but his paranoid trait is panicking.

Marianna: See I’ve never actually teleported someone with me before, I think I had the calibration off so you kind of passed out

Joey: Passed out? Yeah but- did you say teleport?

Marianna: Yes, I hope you’re okay. I was just reading your mind and I saw your photos and I hoped you might want one of real me

Joey: Reading... my... mind?

Marianna: It’s a thing we can do

Joey: Who is we?

Marianna: Oh you know… aliens

Joey is taken aback. Aliens? He always knew they were real but the research on their abilities was spotty at best. Unsurprisingly they didn’t exactly offer themselves up for tests. And he’d just…

Joey: Oh please tell me I’m not pregnant. I can’t be pregnant

Marianna: What? No! I’m not one of those ones. I was left in a carrier myself, I wouldn’t do that to a kid. I just… I know I’m a bit older than the other women in the photos…

She looks at the wall and folds in on herself a bit.

Joey: You’re saying… you read my mind, and know that me and the watcher need to keep track of my numbers with photos… and you teleported us here… because you were nervous that I wouldn’t want a photo of you

Marianna: I thought… you seemed to enjoy our time together so… you might want a photo of what I actually look like

Joey: I’ve never seen an alien before, at least not that I know of. But if you felt enough of a connection when we were woohooing, I’d be honoured to see the real you

Marianna: *smiling* Don’t freak out

Joey tries his best to keep his face straight as Marianna stretches. She changes from the human outfit into a cozy sleepwear number in alien form. It happened so fast Joey isn’t sure he actually saw the change happen. He has so many questions! But he has to remember this is stressful for her to.

Joey: You look amazing. Your eyes are spectacular. Your skin… you were glowing earlier right?

Marianna: *giggles* yes. When our emotions get strong it can be hard to hide and you just… made me feel all kinds of things

Joey: Likewise

He grabs his camera out and gets a shot of her to join the others.

Joey: I’m glad you didn’t mind read about my photos and decide to teleport me into an incinerator

Marianna: *giggles* No! Your mind… You make love but you respect the ones you’re with. Not incinerator worthy

Joey smiles and moves towards her, taking one of her hands and sliding her closer to him.

Joey: I don’t suppose you in any way used your alien powers on the dating app

Marianna: *blushing* Maybe. But I swear I didn’t coerce you in person, and I double checked your mind before-

Joey cuts her off with a kiss. She puts her arms around his neck and relaxes into him. She may not have been his typical type but seeing her, talking to her, everything that happened in that nightclub was what he wanted. Heck, he was glad she thought him worth messing with an app for.

Marianna: Why

Joey: Hmm?

Marianna: Why are you glad about that

Joey: Oh, mind reading. I guess I’m flattered my profile was attractive enough to warrant your effort. Can I give you a proper thanks?

Marianna: You did in the club

Joey: *whispers* Read my mind. You’ll see I can do better if you'd like to go again

Smiling Marianna uncurls herself from him and lets him unbutton her shirt and slide her pants off.

Joey: How did you change outfits anyway

Marianna: Oh that outfit was connected to my disguise. Remove the disguise and I can be wearing something else entirely

On his knees now Joey looks up at her.

Joey: Call me biased but I think you look breathtaking wearing nothing at all

Before she can reply Joey pulls her close and lets his mouth go to work. He is intrigued with the noises she makes. He thought he’d heard most of what women could sound like but the alien tone of her voice was something new. When she seems wet enough he stands up and she helps him out of his clothes. He thinks about what they could do next…

Marianna: The third option sounds good

Joey: *laughs* Try to stop reading my mind and just be in the moment

Joey hadn’t thought he’d be interested in woohoo with an alien but his time with Marianna was making him rethink his stance. A woman is a woman after all, and Marianna certainly had experience. He tried to hold out but with those alien vocals she got him to release even quicker than the last time.

Marianna: *softly* don’t worry, I take it as a compliment

Giving him a final kiss Marianna begins to redress while Joey cleans up. Unfortunately his paranoid brain still hasn’t settled down.

Marianna: Joey, I haven’t impregnated you. Relax

Joey: Is it okay if I like, tell people…

Marianna: *laughs* You’ll have a photo of me on your wall, I’m fairly sure they’ll believe you woohoo’d an alien

Joey walks her to the front door and watches her go, again somehow missing her changing back into her human disguise even though he never took his eyes off her. Pondering the events of the night he locks up and heads to bed, hoping he’ll be able to get enough sleep to put in an appearance at family brunch.

The sun rises alongside Luna and Devin. In the room next to theirs two toddlers yawn and greet the day, racing each other to their potties.

While Luna tackles some chores that need doing Devin and Joey pull together to prepare brunch. While Joey works on bagels Devin sorts out place settings.

Devin: Did you have a good night

Joey: I did! I woohoo’d an alien

Devin: *dubiously* How much did you drink

Joey: I’m serious! I’ll show you the photo later

Devin: It’s not an in action shot is it? Because I love you but there are limits

Joey: No! But it’s got me thinking, there must be other occults out there

Devin: Focus on the *Joey spills stuff* food…

Joey: Don’t panic, I’ll clean it up

Devin: I’ll give you a hand when I’m finished this

Joey: But like I was saying, since aliens do exist on earth some of the other stories must be true

Devin: What stories? Some of us spent our time learning Shakespeare not becoming cryptozoologists

Joey: I wouldn’t woohoo bigfoot! Unless you know bigfoot had a hot human woman form... But if I could land a mermaid, a vampire and say… a werewolf, then I could be the most experienced sim in game! Like how many other sims could claim that achievement?

Devin: Dream big little brother. How’s your game coming

Joey: Slowly, I’ve put the beta out and I’m waiting for reports from play testers. Should be ready for a final polish after brunch though

Devin: If you need someone who doesn’t understand video games to test I’m happy to help

Joey: *laughs* That’s not a terrible idea sis

Devin: It’s my idea, of course it’s great

The sound of wobbly footsteps can be heard in the corridor, the twins are up.

Joey: Uh oh, here comes trouble

Devin: Buongiorno bambinos! Did you not feel like sleeping in

Alfred: No mama. We be awake for family

Rilian: Yes. Nonno and Nonna coming?

Devin: Absolutely. Did you two get dressed all by yourselves

The twins beam and chatter over each other excitedly before sitting down by the counters and spending time on their tablets.

Devin: That’s the table set. I’ve pushed the high chairs into the hall so we can all fit. Alfred, Rilian, are you okay with sitting on the bench?

Twins: *too engrossed in screens to reply*

Devin: I’ll take that as yes. Are your bagels finished yet

Joey: Not just yet. Trust the process, they’ll be good

Devin walks over to her sons hoping that they’ll listen more the closer she is to them.

Devin: Any requests for breakfast?

Alfred: Cereal!

Devin: Caro we have cereal when we don’t have guests. On Sundays we get nice breakfasts. Rilian?

But Devin’s picky eater is ignoring the question about food.

Devin: Mama could make… omelettes, French toast, pancakes-

Alfred: Yes!

Devin: Pancakes, si? Oh looks like Zio Joey has finished making bagels for us. What do we say?

Alfred: Thank you Zio Joey

Rilian: Thanks Zio

Devin: That’s my bambinos. Mama is so proud of you remembering your manners

Rilian: Mama tell Mummy?

Devin: Si, I will tell Mummy

Joey: When did this stereo break? I swear it was working when I left last night

Devin: I figured you’d probably be the best one to fix it

Joey: *starts fixing* And what if I get electrocuted?

Devin: You know tech, you’ll be fine

Rilian: Go Zio Joey!

Alfred: Zio can do!

Joey: I suppose. Gosh I hope Deanna is getting better at her robots, she got fried last time I visited

Devin: She enjoys tinkering, I guess some zaps are the price to pay. Okay bambinos, mama’s going to make the pancakes

Previous ... Next

[hbyrde36]

Times Like These (The Anniversary Edition)

CH 1 CH 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7

Chapter 8: Master of Puppets

WC: 5053 | AO3 link

Eddie woke to the sound of a phone ringing in the distance and his head throbbing. 

He rolled over, cracking one sore and puffy eye open to find himself surrounded. The two boys were already up—Max and Erica too. A graveyard of empty cereal bowls lined the coffee table in front of them, while Saturday morning cartoons played quietly on the TV. 

Despite how miserable he felt, something about seeing these kids just… being kids, filled him with a surge of renewed affection for the little shits, and reminded him of all the countless reasons he had to not fuck this up again.

He drug himself up off the couch, grunting with the effort like a 90 year old man with aching bones and deteriorated joints, and made his way to the kitchen—called by the siren-smell of good strong coffee. Steve appeared in the doorway as he approached, watching the scene just as Eddie had with a fond look in his eyes. He held two mugs, handing one off with a lopsided grin. 

Eddie looked down at the drink, finding it pale with too much cream for most people’s preference, but exactly how he liked it, and could almost smell the tooth-rotting sweetness of the excessive amount of sugar. It was perfect. How did Steve know?

“I love seeing them like this.” Steve said quietly, taking a sip from his own cup. Eddie didn’t need to look to know his was black. Blasphemy. “They don’t get to do it enough.”

Eddie offered a sad smile, humming his agreement. He looked back over his shoulder at the kids, and could only imagine how three years of fighting interdimensional monsters had cut pretty severely into each of their childhoods. Steve’s too, really. They often got caught up in worrying about the younger teens but Steve would have been what, 16 or 17 when this started? 

Babies, all of them. 

He turned back to say as much, but Steve tipped his head towards the kitchen, beckoning Eddie to follow. 

“That was Joyce on the phone.” Steve began, standing close—too close for so early in the morning when Eddie’s defenses were down, speaking low to make sure no one else overheard, the rumbling tone of his voice threatening to set Eddie’s skin on fire. 

“Owens’ people are sending a car to pick them all up, today.”

“What about Hopper?” Eddie whispered.

Steve sighed. “Well, she had to tell the Doc a little about our situation to explain why she was contacting him.”

“How’d that go?”

“She said he was weirdly accepting of the whole time loop thing, almost like he wasn’t surprised? Which, I guess they do research all kinds of weird shit in those labs, and he’s worked with kids like El for years, so maybe it just wasn’t all that unexpected. He knew some things about Vecna—Henry, whatever. Once they got talking she decided to tell him about the ransom note too, figuring he might have the resources to get Hop out, and they certainly owe us at least this much. He said they would handle it.” 

He shrugged, clearly trying to appear unconcerned, but suddenly wouldn’t meet Eddie’s eyes. Eddie knew him too well by now to be fooled. Something was bothering him about all this, even if he was trying to pretend like he was fine. 

“It’s okay if you’re worried. I know you don’t exactly trust these people.” Eddie said.

Steve tried to turn away, but like muscle memory Eddie reached out to lay a hand on his upper arm, giving him a knowing look.

“It’s stupid.” Steve said.

Eddie tightened his grip around Steve’s bicep, squeezing reassuringly as he rubbed his thumb back and forth. “I’m sure it’s not.”

“First I was worried about her going out there, and now—I know she’s right, they probably have ways to get to him that are much safer than her and Murray just fucking off to Alaska to meet with god-knows-who, and I’m happy that it’ll keep her out of the line of fire…” 

“But?” Eddie prompted.

“But, if anyone can bring someone back from the presumed dead, it’s Joyce Byers. I don’t know how much you remember from back when Will went missing, but she never gave up. Not when they found a body in the quarry, or when the whole town treated her like she was crazy for believing her son was still alive. Against all odds she fought for him, went into the Upside Down and brought him home. I just… Hopper deserves that. Someone who cares enough to bring him home no matter what.”

This time Eddie couldn’t stop himself from wrapping his arms around Steve. At least now the other boy knew they’d been close before—friends. Friends could hug. 

As he had so many times before, he wished he could tell Steve that everything would be okay—but he just didn’t know, and he couldn’t bring himself to lie and offer false words of comfort. 

To his surprise Steve hugged him back, tentative at first, but he quickly melted into Eddie’s embrace as though he were starved for touch. It felt wonderful and devastating all at the same time to touch Steve like this—and to have Steve’s arms around him again too. It was a painful reminder of all that he’d lost, but still he refused to be the one to let go first. 

“Thank you.” Steve said, pulling back and roughly clearing his throat.

All at once Eddie realized how quiet it was. Steve’s headphones sat down around his neck, which wasn’t weird in itself, it was something Eddie had seen Max and Chrissy do whenever their ears needed a break too, but they never let the music stop. Steve's song wasn’t playing at all, and Eddie couldn’t handle watching him be taken like that again. 

He reached up, lifting the earpieces back over Steve's head, fingers itching to caress his cheek as they brushed by. He clenched his fist instead. 

“Your tape stopped.” Eddie said, breathless, his heart hammering inside his chest. 

Steve’s wide eyes never left his face as he nodded absently. There was a sudden tension in the air stretched perilously tight between them and Eddie had to force himself to take a step back before it snapped. 

Shaking himself, Steve finally looked down, popping the tape out of his walkman to flip it and begin again, the volume set as low as it could be, and still be heard. 

Eddie took a deep breath and tried to pull himself together. “So, what’s on the agenda today?” He asked, managing to sound almost normal. 

“The kids should probably go home or something, spend time with their families and stuff before things get worse. We’re still going to need to stock up on weapons, right? Even if El gets her powers back?” Steve asked.       

“Yeah.” 

“Feel like doing some shopping today?”

Eddie shouldn’t have been surprised. It made sense for all the same reasons that it had in the last loop. The War Zone was closed on Sundays, and there hadn’t been a single murder yet in town to raise the alarms with the public or the Hawkins PD. Still, he felt a shiver make its way up his spine at the idea of the past repeating itself. Thinking not only of the store, but what happened after. 

He did his best to push those thoughts way, way down.

“Sure. I’ll let you break the news to your children.”

“Our children.” Steve corrected, grinning.

Fuck.

Eddie gulped, backing his way out of the room, stammering, “I-I’ll go tell Robin and Chrissy t-to get ready.”

-

Predictably, the kids fought back, having no interest in being separated now. As before, they all decided to go to Mike’s together, and it wasn’t until Steve picked up the phone to call and let Nancy know the plan that Eddie realized she and Mike hadn’t come back this morning the way they did last time. Funny how some things changed while others stayed the same, without obvious rhyme or reason. 

The trip to The War Zone went smoothly and pretty much as Eddie recalled. He’d racked his brain on the drive there, wondering if there was anything they could have used more or less of. Fire seemed to be the most effective weapon against the creatures of the Upside Down, so the molotov cocktails were still a good choice. 

If only they could source an actual flamethrower. 

Ultimately he didn't think any different number or type of weapons would be what turned the tides. This thing would come down to a battle of wills, he’d bet his life on it. 

Nancy got quiet as they were unloading the supplies after returning from the store, and Eddie could almost hear the gears turning over in her mind. It was no surprise to him when she eventually spoke up. 

“I want to go look for Fred.” She began, holding up a hand before anyone could argue. “And I know what you’re going to say. If we couldn’t find him last time what’s the point—but you said his body turned up in the trees behind his house right?”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied. “Sometime overnight or early in the morning they found him.”

“Okay so, that’s a clue we didn’t have before, and a place I’m sure I wouldn’t have looked.”

“How about this—the three of us,” Robin jumped in, indicating Nancy, Chrissy, and herself, “can go for a fun-filled hike in the woods, and we’ll leave you two here to hold down the fort in case Joyce or Eleven calls.” 

She met Eddie’s gaze, winking at him like she was doing him a favor. He grit his teeth and scowled. How she’d caught on already that there was anything going on between him and Steve, he had no idea.

…Not that there was anything going on since he was doing everything in his power to stay far far away from that possibility right now.

Steve didn't seem to notice their little exchange, thankfully, and was only watching the three girls with obvious concern. “If that's what you want to do. Just… be safe, okay?”

“Always.” Robin said, giving Steve a pat on the shoulder before getting back into the car with Nancy and Chrissy. 

The anxiety Eddie had already been soaking in all day reached a critical level as he and Steve were left home alone together, and more than once he found himself obsessively staring at the spot on the kitchen floor where he’d first held Steve, as he fell apart after Vecna had so ruthlessly attacked him on this same afternoon in another life.   

He had to find some way to distract himself or he was going to lose it.

There was only one surefire way to settle at least some of his nerves, but Eddie was too afraid to go outside and smoke—afraid to let Steve out of his sight for even a second actually, and so when he wandered away from him—for the dozenth time—to the living room, Eddie had no choice but to follow. As he did he recalled the bag of tapes he knew was stashed in the entertainment center—bingo.

He moved to the cabinet and pulled it out, digging for the only decent film among the bunch, not caring that he’d just watched The Goonies a week ago. Ironically, he thought the familiarity of it might even offer him some comfort. He glanced back over his shoulder to ask Steve if he minded, only to find him with his headphones off and silent, again. 

“Dude, how many times—” Eddie stomped across the room, his concerned frustration at Steve's carelessness spilling over to rage. 

How hard was it to keep a fucking tape going? 

He reached for the walkman clipped to the other boy’s waistband and yanked it off him—huffing as he popped the tape out, flipped it over, and shoved it back in, jamming his finger into the play button so hard he almost broke the damn thing, before shoving it back into Steve’s hands. 

“It needs to be playing to work, asshole, and you really need to start keeping those on your ears more.” He flicked the hanging cord of the headphones as he leveled Steve with a hard glare. 

“It’s–they–they’re uncomfortable.” Steve mumbled in half-hearted defense of himself.

It occurred to Eddie suddenly that this had never been a problem for Steve before. He’d never forgotten to keep his tape running, and never once had he complained about having to wear the headphones. 

He narrowed his eyes. “Really, Harrington? Because I’m finding it hard to believe that you can’t deal with a little mild discomfort to keep that fucking monster at bay after all the other shit you’ve endured.”

“Okay, fine. Just… listen, If Vecna doesn’t attack me before we go after him, how can we be sure I’ll be on his radar—that he’ll take me as bait?”

“Wait, were you–were you leaving the music off on purpose so he could get to you? What the fuck, Steve?!” Eddie shouted.

“What was your plan then, huh? To make Chrissy play the lure? How is that fair?!” Steve yelled right back. 

Eddie honestly hadn’t thought it through that far yet, and maybe Steve had a point. He certainly didn’t relish the idea of poor Chrissy being put on the chopping block again, but this certainly wasn’t the answer.

“It’s not fair to you either!” Eddie growled. “It’s not fair, period!”

“I can handle it!” Steve bellowed, smacking himself in the center of his chest. “And if it’s gotta be someone—why not me, huh? At least I have experience with this stuff! At least El knows me a little! If this whole thing winds up hinging on her piggybacking in someone's brain again, isn’t it better—easier if it’s someone she knows?!”

Again Eddie was brought up short. He shook his head—he couldn’t argue with the bulk of Steve’s logic, but–

“You don’t know what you're signing yourself up for! You have no idea what he’s capable of! Steve, don’t do this to–”

“Why does it matter so much to you if he takes me anyway?!”

Eddie recoiled, feeling the force of Steve’s words like a slap in the face.  “What? What do you mean why? Steve, you’re my—” He snapped his mouth shut, fighting to retain control of himself even as he spiraled further into panic. 

“We’re friends. I care about you.”

Right in front of his eyes, Steve’s face hardened into a cruel mask. 

“Friends,” Steve mocked with a bark of laughter, mouth twisting into an unfriendly smile. “We’re not friends, not really—you do realize that right? If you hadn’t gotten yourself caught up in all this, I would have never said two words to you. Why would I?”

All the blood drained from Eddie’s face. It felt like he’d been kicked off the edge of a cliff. 

It wasn’t anything he hadn’t thought of himself. A nagging fear in the back of his mind, that any feelings Steve was developing for him were circumstantial at best, nothing that would stand up to any sort of test—that it wasn’t real. That Steve had only clung to him because he was there—convenient and willing. 

He’d thought, after the kiss– 

Well, he’d started to hope he was wrong. Almost believed it when Robin gave him so much shit for doubting Steve when they’d spoken in the woods. But here it was in front of him. Proof that he’d been right to worry. 

“Honestly,” Steve went on, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “I’ve only been pretending to be nice to you so you’ll help us. Why else would I ever want to be associated with Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?”

“Wh–what are you saying?”

Eddie’s eyes grew wet, hot tears threatening to fall. Oh god, what an idiot he’d been. 

“Poor thing,” Steve cooed at him, all pouting lips and false sympathy. “You should know, when you told me you were gay?” He paused, shuddering. “I was completely repulsed. I had to pretend otherwise of course, so you’d cooperate, but it made me sick having to lay next to you night after night.”

“Wait, I didn’t…” Eddie breathed, a barely audible whisper. “But, that didn’t happen this time.”

Something was very, very wrong here. 

He started to slowly back up, eyes darting between the doorway to the kitchen and the hall leading to the front door, trying to calculate his best move.  

“You’re not Steve.”

“Not quite.” The thing that wasn’t Steve smirked, folding his hands together locked behind his back. “Hello, Eddie. We meet at last.”

He was still wearing Steve’s face, but the voice coming out of his throat was becoming something deeper, darker, and far more dangerous.

Any relief Eddie felt for the fact that it hadn’t really been Steve saying those awful things to him was overshadowed by the terror of meeting his enemy in person for the first time, and in his own domain no less.

“Fuck you.” Eddie spat, projecting a bravery he absolutely did not feel. 

Steve—Vecna began to pace a slow circle around him. “I don’t know how you’ve managed this trick, sending yourself back in time over and over again, but it’s no matter. I’ve seen what’s in your head now. I know what you and Eleven and all your little friends have planned. It won’t work.”

A guitar riff Eddie would never forget, even if he lived a thousand lifetimes, began to fill the air around him. Someone, somewhere was playing Master of Puppets for him—trying to pull him out of this place. Trying to save him. Hope blossomed in his chest as he thought about what Chrissy had described seeing the first time he’d successfully pulled her out of her trance, and searched around frantically for any signs of an opening or portal. 

Either unable to hear the music or uncaring that Eddie was in the process of being rescued, Vecna kept taunting him. 

“Of course, you already know that, having failed so many times before. I wonder why it is you even continue to try and fight the inevitable. This is your fate, Eddie, and his.” The monster gestured to himself, to the suit of familiar skin he wore, drawing Eddie’s attention back. 

The eyes—Steve’s beautiful hazel eyes that Vecna had stolen to use against him rolled back and began to bleed. With a loud crack his jaw dislocated, hanging loose, mouth gaping open in a silent scream. Another snap and his arm bent back the wrong way, broken.

Eddie choked back a sob, his heart shattering into even smaller pieces as he witnessed first hand what he already knew Steve had gone through, knowing he'd never be able to scrub the image from his mind. 

“The sooner you accept that, the sooner your suffering will come to an end.” The words spilled forth from the gaping maw that Steve’s mouth had become.

Eddie cried out, screaming his pain wordlessly.

The music picked up suddenly, getting louder as the song reached its middle, giving Eddie the strength to look away—and finally he spotted it, a faint glow like the promise of sunshine coming in through an open window, emanating from somewhere behind Vecna, through the doorway to the kitchen. 

He took a few stumbling steps back, the disfigured visage of Vecna-Steve following his every move, and faked a run for the front door, pivoting at the last second to switch direction down the hallway, entering the kitchen from its other side and dove into the hazy mirage head first without hesitation. 

-

Eddie came-to with a shuddering gasp. He was on the floor, headphones shoved over his head and Metallica blasting in his ears. Strong arms circled him from behind, rocking him gently as a soft voice mumbled the same three words over and over again. 

“Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.”

“Stevie?” Eddie wheezed, out of breath and a little disoriented from his sudden fall back to reality. Which was saying something, considering he’d died and come back as many times as he had. He reached up, hesitantly pulling the headphones down around his neck. 

“Oh my god.” Steve let out a rush of breath, sounding relieved as he slid himself around to Eddie’s side, still cradling him in his arms. He looked Eddie up and down, as if assessing him for physical damage, a haunted look in his eyes.

“You’re okay?” Steve said. Part statement, part question.  

When he didn't answer right away Steve pursed his lips, concern evident on his face as he raised a hand up to gently brush the tears from Eddie’s wet cheeks. He hadn’t even known he was crying.

Eddie blinked up at him, caught between wanting to bury himself in the other boy’s chest, and the instinct to shove him away. He had Vecna’s vicious words stuck in his head now, replaying over and over again.

He knew it wasn’t real. Steve hadn’t said those things, would never have said those things. They weren’t his thoughts or feelings even if they were said with his voice. Eddie knew all of that, but still it was enough to taint what little comfort he might have allowed himself to take from Steve’s embrace.

That bastard had stolen Steve's face and used Eddie’s own insecurities against him, and it’d worked like a fucking charm. 

He sat up slowly, pushing Steve away with a firm hand on his chest. Steve frowned, actually tried to push back for a moment, to keep holding Eddie, before realizing what he was doing and backed off to give him space.  

“Is that… that was Vecna, right?” Steve asked. 

“Yeah, it was him.” Eddie pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes hard enough to see stars. If only it would erase the image of Steve’s broken form from his mind.   

“I’m so sorry.”

Eddie dropped his hands from his face abruptly to stare at the other boy. “What do you have to be sorry for?” He asked, incredulous.

“You tried to tell me how bad it was and I–I argued with you. That was the most terrifying few minutes of my life, and I was going to force you to watch that—again! How many times did you have to watch it happen to Chrissy? To me? I’m such an asshole” Steve closed his eyes, sniffling as he shook his head. “I’d still rather it be me than you, or Chrissy, or any of the kids, but it was… selfish of me to put you in the position to have to save me again on purpose. So, I’m sorry” 

“It’s not—you’re not selfish, and you’re not an asshole either.” Eddie sighed heavily. “And I hate to admit it, but you may have had a point. We can’t bait Vecna with something he doesn’t want, someone he isn’t actively after. I guess now that someone’s gonna be me.”

“How will that work? You’re just as much of a stranger to El as Chrissy is.”

Eddie tightened his jaw, readying himself for another fight, but Steve quickly raised his hands in surrender. “I'm not–I'm not trying to—I'm just raising a concern.”

“I’m not letting anyone else go through that if we don’t have to, ok? We’ll ask El about it when we can, and go from there.”

Steve nodded reluctantly. “Okay.”

-

Steve searched through his closet and dug up his old walkman for Eddie to use since he’d given his own up for Chrissy. There was nothing wrong with it, just an outdated model. A new pair of batteries and he was all set.

They made Eddie’s tape in relative silence, save for the music itself which they kept turned low to save his head—a side effect of the Vecna attack being a massive fucking headache.

The girls returned a few hours later, looking completely dejected and exhausted. They still hadn’t been able to find Fred.

Nancy didn’t stay long, wanting to get back to her own house to keep an eye on the kids, and it wasn’t until she left that the other two noticed the change in Eddie, and what he now wore over his head. 

Chrissy came up to him first, throwing her arms around his shoulders and resting her cheek on his chest. “Oh no, Eddie, you too?”

He hugged her back, and as bad as the day had been, he couldn’t help smiling to himself a little. He’d been so sure that he had ruined any chance of friendship with her this time around, but the easy affection gave him hope that it wasn’t a lost cause just yet. 

“I’m okay, Chris.” He assured her as they separated. “Harrington had my back.”

-

In a bid for normalcy, and while they had nothing better to do, Steve ordered some takeout for all of them to share while Eddie put his movie on—hours later than intended, but better late than never. 

He tried to enjoy it—the food, the conversation, hanging out with these people he’d come to care for like family—but his heart was in the past. Instead of the TV screen in front of him he saw Steve fighting off a grin as he’d watched Eddie flutter around the kitchen cooking for them. In place of the drink in his hand, he felt the warm press of Steve’s palm in his, remembering the way he’d laced their fingers together and held on all the way upstairs that night. 

Giggles coming from the other side of the room were what brought Eddie back to the present, and he glanced over to see that Chrissy and Robin had drifted awfully close to one another on the couch they shared, even resting their heads together as he watched.  

Not thinking he nudged Steve's shoulder with his own to point it out, wondering when they themselves had gotten this close, and tilted his head in the girls direction. 

Steve glanced over, smiling at first but then his body went visibly tense, eyes guarded as he looked back at Eddie.

Oh.

“You don’t have to worry I–” Eddie only barely managed to stop himself from coming out, though he wasn’t sure why, and changed course mid sentence. “I'm cool with—Robin. I just think it’s sweet that they’re getting close again.”

Steve took him at his word, relaxing immediately. “Again?” He whispered back excitedly.

Eddie nodded and went back to watching the girls, glad that this particular thing was a staple of the loops. 

Once the credits rolled and the girls made their way up to bed, Eddie helped Steve clean up, picking up trash and carrying their few dishes to the sink. He fled as soon as they were done, saying a quick goodnight before rushing to the downstairs bathroom to change and laying himself down on the couch, the big one this time. Dustin had been right, it was a lot more comfortable. 

He assumed he’d gotten away with it, that Steve had already gone up the stairs, but less than a minute later Steve came striding into the room carrying two blankets. He tossed one to Eddie before wrapping the other around himself, and settled down on the other couch. 

“What are you doing?”

“Sleeping.”

“Steve.”

They both sat up, staring daggers at each other from across the room.

Steve broke the standoff first. “I don’t think you should be alone. What if something happens, or your tape runs out? Since you seem to have something against sleeping in a bed with me again, I figured I'd just join you down here. It’s fine.”

“Fuck’s sake.” Eddie grumbled. 

So much for keeping this one boundary, but he’d manage somehow. He suspected Steve still felt like he must have done something wrong before, and Eddie couldn’t live with him feeling guilty over something that wasn’t his fault. And, he supposed, there was no use in both of them sleeping on couches when there was a perfectly good bed upstairs.

Eddie reluctantly got up, flinging a throw pillow at Steve’s smug face as he did. “Come on then, big boy. Lead the way.”

-

In the familiar comfort of Steve's room, Eddie laid on his back and stared up at the ceiling, hugging his side of the bed to keep as much space as possible between them. He was exhausted from the attack, from the day in general, but his heart pounded as he found himself surrounded by all things Steve. His scent on the sheets, his pillow under Eddie’s head, his clothes strewn about the room.

He breathed it all in deep, and, still keeping his eyes pointed forward, finally dared to ask the question.

“How did you know what song to play for me?”

Steve shifted around, turning on his side to face him. 

“It was the tape from your Walkman. The kids took it out last night after they made Chrissy’s and left it sitting out on the table. It was a lucky guess, really. I just hoped that whatever you had been listening to last would work.”

Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He’d survived by simple chance and dumb luck, and sure he was old hat at dying by now, but it didn't make the idea any less scary. He turned too, meeting Steve's eyes through the dark. 

“Thank you, that was… good thinking.”

“I was so afraid it wouldn’t work. One second we were screaming at each other and then you went so still. Your eyes rolled back and–” Steve’s voice cracked, unable to finish.

“I know.” Eddie whispered. And he did know, far too well, what it was like to feel so powerless.

He started to reach out, wanting so badly to cup Steve’s cheek or pull him close, but let his hand drop to the bed between them mid-motion. Steve slid his own hand closer, inch by inch until their pinkies touched, and then oh-so-slowly, he tucked his whole hand under Eddie's, entwining their fingers and gripping him tight. 

“I don’t know what I would have done if it hadn’t worked.”

Eddie swallowed a whine, praying Steve couldn't hear it, and squeezed back. He didn’t have the strength to pull away, though he knew with every touch came the potential to break him beyond repair. 

Chapter 9

Special thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

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