#because i could definitely see him accepting it voluntarily

[qoldenskies]

mind control

donnie helps out a small community of psychics in the hidden city, and as a gift, they give him a mystic artifact that promises to "heal his broken mind." what it does is instead suppress most of his emotions and trauma with a spell of false cheerfulness and obedience.

(i'm also viewing this as partially ableist, since it might be directed towards donnie's trauma but also smothers his neurodivergent traits in favor of creating a 'normal' persona)

this is actually a really cool concept i kind of want to steal although i already have something for the mind control prompt, so i might move it to internalized prejudice since it succeeds in the same things >:3 love donnie getting fucked over on accident and just rolling with it/not saying anything out of shame but i ALSO love when he accepts something genuinely self-destructive like this intentionally. because he thinks its for the better

[crazycurly-77]

The lost bet - pt. 1

Since DiNozzo had a big mouth as always, you bet. He stated that he was absolutely fearless and would do anything that was asked of him “I fear nothing and I will do anything. Prepare yourself to lose.” 

This was an opportunity which you couldn't let pass. “Alright, I will show you” you thought with a mischievous grin. “You have to take care of Mrs. Mallard and her Corgys voluntarily for 24 hours” you challenged him. 

First he only looked at you, then he said “okay, what are the betting stakes?”

“If you lose and don't master the challenge successfully, you have to give Gibbs a head-slap.”

“Alright. And if you lose, Abby would dye your long curly hair red and you have to wear a long black sexy dress for the upcoming navy ball” he answered grinning. In a few days was a navy ball to which you all were ordered to attend. 

“Okay, you will lose anyway, DiNozzo” you laughed and shook hands on the bet with him, both sure to win the bet. 

The day after tomorrow he stood in the office with a triumphant shit-eating grin and presented Dr. Mallard as a witness that Tony had won the bet. “I'm afraid my dear, he has won the bet. But I'm sure you will look wonderful tomorrow evening” he said to you. So you had to accept the defeat, but you were looking murderously at Tony who was laughing madly and celebrating his victory. 

Unseen from you Gibbs walked to his desk and shared a short knowing look with Ducky, but since it was a Friday and there was no case you were allowed to head home. Because after all, you all had to prepare yourself for the big ball tomorrow.

Right while you packed your things Abby came grinning to you, smiling widely “hey Y/N, heard you've lost the bet with Tony and I'm to style you for the big event.” 

You only rolled with your eyes sighing. 

She ignored that completely, laughed and said “Come on! We have a lot of work to do!” 

Gibbs looked up. He didn't know what Abby was going to do to you, but it was definitely interesting. 

Arriving at Abby's there lay a long black dress on the dresser and you eyed it suspiciously. “Okay, Y/N. Let's dye your hair first. I chose an amazing cherry red which will make your wonderful hair look even better” she said and pulled you to the bathroom. Worried you ask “are you sure?” She laughed “yes! Absolutely! Oh man, you should see your face. You look as if you will be turned into a frog! But be assured, you will be the queen of the ball.”

“Why red?” 

“Because of reasons” she answered with a devilish smile “just wait and see.”

With that she began with the transformation. You felt not very good and on the verge of despair, but you had to go through this. And then you had to plan revenge on Tony. 

After a short while your hair was red and you were standing in front of a mirror. Looking at you the only thought you could think was a surprised “wow!” while Abby jumped excitedly up and down the whole time crying “you look like Merida of Disney! Sooo wonderful!!! I love this look on you!” with that she hugged you once again. 

Okay…it was something new and completely different, but yes, it looked good on you. You thought the Disney figure was the reason why it had to be red. But it wasn't, as you should learn from a completely unexpected side at the ball. 

Your hair done, the next quest was waiting for you, the fitting of the dress. 

You tried it on and was very surprised “Abby, it's fitting perfectly!” 

“Oh yeah, I knew as I first had seen it” she smiled. “Good, good. Tomorrow is another day. So let's meet tomorrow.” Obviously she had something urgent to do, because after you were wearing your normal clothes again, she ushered you out the door to be back again tomorrow at 5pm.

The next day you arrived at Abby's apartment and you were already tense. You knocked on her door and she opened it laughing happily and already ready to go, so she had the full 2 hours for making you look amazing until you had to be on the way to the ballroom. 

As you entered she sat you almost immediately in front of a mirror. Abby began to tie your hair up on the side and let the rest flow down your back freely. Then she did your make-up and wow, your dark blue eyes were shining! Then came the final, the absolute marvelous dress. You put it on and Abby zipped you up. 

You looked in the mirror and thought “who's that?”. She had done wonders on you. Not only the make-up and your hair, but also finding this dress. It was long and black. It had a slit to the hip on the left leg and it was sleeveless. It also had a deep neckline which showed a little bit of your cleavage. It hugged your hourglass figure perfectly and tightly, so that it complemented your small waist and your wider bust and hip. Additionally, you wore black high heels. Abby wore a short tight black dress and high heels, but with no extras. But she looked amazing, too. 

Dressed up like that you two were heading to the location where the ball was held. You were absolutely tensed to get in there and meet your colleagues. “My goodness, what will they say?” you thought, but Abby was pushing you further to your desk where Tony, Tim, Ducky and Gibbs were already sitting and waiting for you. 

You were walking to them smiling shyly not knowing what to say, but Ducky rescued you as your knight in shining armor. He stood and welcomed you “Abby, Y/N, there you are. You are both looking wonderful tonight. Just sit down with us.”

You both sat down and you looked around and wondered. Tim had his eyes set on Abby and was shyly saying nothing. Tony watched you with his mouth open and looked like a fish, but whispered “you look absolutely amazing, Y/N.” This you answered with a shy “thank you” and looked down, feeling your cheeks turn red. Gibbs on the other hand, said nothing. He only watched you the whole evening from the other side of the table, as if he wanted to read you and as if he were thinking about what to do with you. Your cheeks were now not only red, but your whole head was burning and you felt naked under the watchful eyes of Gibbs, which were burning into you. 

So on this side there was no conversation. But Ducky, Abby, Tony and you talked enough for all of you throughout the whole dinner. After the dinner was over, the dancing began. Immediately there were several men standing at your side and wanted to dance with you, but they were beaten by Ducky who was a perfect gentleman and a wonderful dancer. But it couldn't have been any different, because he's Ducky and he was always cute and very nice. After this first dance with him, you had some fun on the dance floor with a few other men, who wanted to dance with you. And naturally Tony wanted to dance with you, too. So you were swaying now with him on the dance floor. “You look marvelous, Y/N. You should dress up more often. Maybe to go on a date with me?” he grinned. He didn't miss a chance to flirt, as always. 

But you hadn't the opportunity to respond, because right in this moment Gibbs tapped him on his shoulder and said “may I.” Immediately Tony let go of you and you found yourself in the strong arms of Gibbs, who pulled you tightly to him and began to sway with you to the slow rhythm of the music. You blushed so hard, because it was so unexpected, but honestly you were enjoying being in his arms and dancing with him, so no words were needed and you just wanted to go on. 

At the end of the dance he leaned in and whispered “I know of your bet. Do you wanna get back at DiNozzo?”

“Yes”

“Don't freak out” 

Before you could react in any way he was cupping your face, closed the miniscule distance between you and you felt his soft lips on yours. In front of all colleagues, he was kissing you deeply and you answered kissing him deeply, too. Your mind was going blank and all you could do was feel him. And in all honesty, what you felt was really good. Obviously he liked it too, because he didn't seem to be in a hurry to end your kiss, but let his tongue dance with yours and the kiss became very hot and seething. 

You were absolutely flabbergasted and after breaking the kiss he grinned widely “I wanted to do that the whole evening. You look stunning, Y/N. I like your red hair, it looks very good on you.” You could only look at him, stunned into silence. Now you knew, why it had to be red. “Do you want to go somewhere more private and have a drink and a good talk? I know a nice little bar. You will like it.”

“Okay, let's go” You answered, smiling up at him. 

“Okay” he nodded and led you back to your table to get your jacket while placing his hand on your lower back. As you arrived there, you saw Tony was pale and staring at you with his mouth wide open. The sight was so funny that you laughed out loud. 

Yes, Revenge is a sweet thing….

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If you want to know how the evening continues, there's a part 2! 😊

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Here you will find the other chapters of this story and the other stories I've written to date.

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[heelluring]

— his regrets... • l.hs

wherein the sinner was once again hit by guilt but he guessed, it hurts the most when it hit the second time around [ part 1 ]

author's note ~ ! hi! so, i decided to write this since there are a lot of requests. i dont know if i ever gave the story any justice, i just hope i was able to deliver what i want to write. anyways, here you go. happy reading!

Heeseung stands outside the restaurant that both of you frequently visits. in the past, he'll drive to the restaurant while u're the one entertaining him through the passenger's seat. he'll call u pretty and will watch as a soft blush stain ur cheeks together with a subtle hit on his arms in attempt to hide your shyness. Both of you were happy that time, heeseung was happy, you were happy— when did everything go wrong?

oh, right. he cheated. he did the very same thing he promised he wouldn't do when you said yes to him. cheating with her older sister at that. what is he thinking, right? Heeseung also, didn't know.

And as much as he regret it, it wouldn't change a thing. He'll never feel your presence in his arms, again or feel how your lips fit so well in his.

It's been years since he saw even your shadows but you're still the one haunting his mind. After getting caught with his affair, he immediately ran after you but was failed. Came running to your apartment, but no one was there. Your landlord assured him though, he was told that your things are still in the apartment and that made him hope, maybe this will be a passing tumbles? Maybe he can still fix this?

He was definitely wrong. It was all but a delusion. You never came even if he waited for almost a week in that apartment just leaving whenever he had to go to work. But, you successfully avoided him. The next time he came, your apartment was wide open, your things were gone including you, and workers from the complex are now starting to clean the unit for the new potential buyers.

You successfully vanished through his life, didn't even get him a chance to see you before completely walking out of his life. The same time you left, so is heeseung's life started to crumble. He was called by the HR department one day, saying he's just there to talk. Though the way they have every evidence of his infidelity and disgusting rendezvous with Rina told him otherwise. That's just like a punch for him. Your crying and pained face draws on his mind, he can't think about anything but how hurt you were the day you found out. He was a jerk, a sinful man that doesn't deserve any forgiveness. If all, it just made another salt that was rubbed on his wounds. He was so stupid. How could he do that?

After all the things you did for him, this is what he decided to give back and thus, karma's out for him. Things happened so fast that when he came into realization, the company already sent a letter making him choose if they'll forcefully fire him or he'll just voluntarily resign. It doesn't matter anyways. His business was all the employees could talk about for the past few weeks, even if he gets fired or resigned, doesn't matter because people knew what he did and that goes the same with Rina. With no stable income, life was hard. Heeseung had a hard time applying in a new position. No one's accepting him, in the end, he became content with jobs that had nothing to do with his past career. Being a janitor or a delivery guy, he did everything and anything just to survive.

"Heeseung? what are you doing there? There's a lot of people since dinner already started, we need you at the back" Even being a waiter in your favorite restaurant was one of the things he did just to put food in his mouth. But he knew it wasn't just because of that. Heeseung wanted to be able to hold at least one small fragment of your memory that was still enclosed in this restaurant. Because, every time he sees that one special corner, he was able to be happy at least for a short period of time.

"Serve the new guests, it's on table 15" Heeseung nodded at that taking the menus on his arm before walking towards the table. It was a couple, the man was the only one he could see while the woman's back was facing him. A certain feeling took over his system. The woman looks familiar but that's impossible. Heeseung shook his head and his doubt, before putting on a smile.

"Good evening, and welcome to Chaconne. My name is Evan, and I would be your server for the night. Here's our—" His tongue was cut off when the woman looked at him. It was you, it was really you. Heeseung wanted to cry, to just get on his knees and say all the things he couldn't get to say all these years. But, who is he fooling? He knew that what he really wanted to do was to hide in shame and guilt. He always wanted to appear in front of you as a successful and strong person but instead, you saw this side of him. The one who's currently paying his dues with karma. You didn't say anything, just looking at him with sadness in eyes. He can't read that sadness as something different though. He knew that it was accompanied with pity, pity with someone you're just acquainted with.

"Sir? Are you alright?" The guy you're with asked. "Ah.. ah— yes. Yes, I am. I'm sorry for that, Sir. So here's our menu..." It was smooth, he was able to calm down. He needs to be professional, he can't afford losing this job and he also can't afford to make you uncomfortable. After a while, the guy who he knew called Jay called him again to take the orders. It was an understatement when we say heeseung can't take his eyes off of you that whole night. You look beautiful as ever, the only difference is that you look happier. Jay said something to you, and that made your eyes widen in bliss before giggling, hitting him softly with your hands. As a man, heeseung knew how Jay loves you. The way he looks at you, how he softly caresses your hand on his, drawing small shapes on its surface in process, how he smiles just to you was all he needed to know. Besides, it's the same look he's given to you. You look so happy, you might as well be glowing when you're with him. Heeseung on the other hand, can't do anything but be happy for you. You now feel at peace and secured, it's a long way from how miserable you have been with him and heeseung can't help but thank the one above for that. Even when you two finally finished your dinner, leaving gracefully with your chivarious man supporting you, heeseung can't help but to follow you with his eyes.

Oh how he wished, he was that man. Heeseung was not a saint. Of course, on top of being happy for you, he also felt bitterness creeping up his system. But it's all in vain.

"Hey, heeseung." One of his co-workers called when it was closing time handing him a dark blue colored envelope. "Remember the couple you served earlier? The woman told me to give this to you." His eyes widened, taking the envelope before saying his goodbyes to the other workers. He was in the park when he decided to open it. A can of beer, and a cup of ramen placed hastily on his side as he took the envelope out. It was elegant and sealed, he flipped it twice before carefully ripping through it when he made sure there were no written words outside.

Hey, heeseung. It's been awhile, years even. I know things didn't end well between us. I don't know if you're angry at me for the things I also did just to get back at you, and I won't blame you if you are. It doesn't matter though, I will still say sorry for those things. I was driven by my anger and pain, and because of that you lose your means to support yourself. I'm sorry Heeseung... for everything. For me, those moments were nothing but a memory, just a painful part of my past. I was able to move on and I hope that goes the same with you. You don't need to suffer, give yourself a chance again. Forgive yourself.

It's nice to see you again, Heeseung. You might not believe this but I hope you'll be happy, I am hoping for your best.

Heeseung didn't know he was crying until a tear stains the paper, the next thing he knew, his vision was blurry. "You were still saying sorry to me even though we knew I deserved it? Even wishing me happiness when I'm the one who took that away from you in the past. Y/n... how can you be so cruel?" His thumb brush on your signed name, as he whispers those words. How come, after all these years, you're still the one who can make himself feel understood. His whole system was numb, can't feel anything aside from pain. Is this the kind of pain you felt that night? Heeseung's happiness was with you but now, yours was nowhere with him. He feels relieved, yet there's a bittersweet feeling because this just means that he has to let you go, that this will be the last night he'll have a touch on your memories.

"Thank you... thank you so much... and i love you..."

heelluring, 2024

likes, reblogs, and comments are deeply appreciated ❤️

[everdreamofme]

poker games

platonic ! slytherins x reader

another silly little one shot of the Slytherin gang, based off of another episode of Friends!!

Making her way into the Slytherin common room after spending some time in the library, Y/N spotted her two best friends, Pansy and Astoria, in one of the corners. Pansy was carefully painting her nails from her seat on the floor as Astoria occupied one of the couches, reading a magazine.

'Hey bitches,' She said as she flopped onto the armchair behind Pansy.

'Hey babe.'

'Where're the boys?' Y/N asked, her eyes scanning the room, expecting to find her five other best friends but with no luck. 

Astoria shrugged. 'Enzo said they were doing something upstairs tonight.'

'Okay, cryptic. Don't you guys want to know what it is they're doing?'

'As long as they're not annoying me, I'm fine with the not knowing.' Pansy spoke, lifting a hand to examine her manicure. Y/N pulled a face.

'Nope, not accepting that. Let's go,' Despite the girls' protests, Y/N dragged them both to the boys dorm and swung the door open. The five boys sat around an oval-shaped table with playing cards in their hands, their eyes darting up to whoever had interrupted them.

'What the hell are you lot doing?' Y/N asked, taking a step into the room, and the two girls followed suit, both now curious too.

'Playing poker.' Theo responded as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. The three girls shared a look of confusion before Astoria spoke.

'Sorry, playing what?'

'Poker. It's a muggle game,' Blaise explained, pushing some plastic pieces into the middle of the table.

Pansy pulled a face at Blaise's response and moved to stand by him. 'You lot are voluntarily playing a muggle game?'

'Fuck! I'm out.' Draco threw his cards onto the table. 'We were, before we were rudely distracted.'

'Draco!' Pansy scolded.

'Well, can we play?' Y/N asked, causing Mattheo to laugh as he picked up all of the cards on the table.

'Absolutley not.'

'And why is that?' She challenged, crossing her arms.

'Because we would have to teach you how to play,' He said, giving her a pointed look. 'And I'd rather not do that.'

The girls all glared at Mattheo in response. Definitely the wrong thing to say.

'Okay. So now, we draw cards.' Enzo explained slowly to the girls, who now sat with them around the oval table. Nodding, the girls studied their cards intensely.

'So, I wouldn't need any, right? 'Cause I have a straight,' Y/N asked, showing her cards to Mattheo, who only clenched his jaw in response. Draco and Theo huffed at Y/N as Pansy and Astoria congratulated her lucky cards.

'Okay, Pans, how many do you want?' Enzo asked, turning the attention to Pansy, who was looking incredulously at the five cards in her hand.

'Okay... I just need two. The ten of spades and the six clubs—'

'No - Pansy, you don't-'

'Oh! I have the ten of spades; here you go!' Astoria interjected, reaching over and passing Pansy one of her cards with a smile on her face. Blaise rubbed his temple when Pansy thanked her and added the card to her hand.

'No, no. Uh, you can't do that, Tori,' He began before she interrupted him.

'Oh no, it's okay! It's okay; I don't need them. I'm going for fours!' Theo and Draco shared a look before finishing their drinks. 

'Alright, so at this point-'

'Okay, we got it! Let's play for real.' Pansy interrupted Mattheo, putting her cards in a pile so they could be shuffled and dealt again. Theo raised an eyebrow.

'Are you sure? 'Cause Y/N just threw away two jacks because they didn't look happy..'

Y/N scoffed. 'Well, I'm ready now, so just deal!'

The boys rolled their eyes as Mattheo began to shuffle the cards for a new round.

A few hours later, the gang still sat around the table in the boys' dorm, playing their final game of the night.

'Damnit!' Y/N fumed, throwing her cards on the table, having lost yet another game of poker.

'Oh, I see. So then, you were lying.' Astoria accused Blaise, pointing a finger at him as he scooped up the chips with a grin.

'About what?' He asked.

'About how good your cards were.'

'No, Tori, he was bluffing.' Draco explained, beginning to clear the cards away. 

'Ah-ha! And what is bluffing? Is it not another word for lying?' Blaise and Theo shared a look before shaking their heads.

'Well, I hate to break up this party, but I am shattered.' Pansy stated as she stood from her chair. A choir of 'oo' broke out as she stood up, causing her to narrow her eyes at the boys. 'What?'

'We need to settle, Pansy.' Mattheo explained, using his wand to lift the objects from the table and back into a trunk.

'Settle what?'

'The game, Pans. You owe us money for the game.' Blaise added, earning a huff from Y/N and Astoria. Enzo made his way over to Pansy and tossed an arm around her shoulders.

'Ah, come on guys, it's their first time. Why don't we just forget about the money?' At this, Pansy scoffed, shoving Enzo's arm from her shoulder. 

'Fuck no! We'll pay!'

Astoria sucked in a breath of air. 'Pans, I had another answer all ready.'

'And you know what?' Y/N stood now, pointing her finger in Theo's face. 'We want a rematch!' Theo grinned as Mattheo sniggered.

'Fine by me, I could use some more money.' 

'So, basically, you get your kicks from taking money from all of your friends?' Astoria asked the room. Draco pondered this for a moment before breathing a 'yup' and earning a laugh from the other boys. 

Making their way back to their dorm, the three girls scoffed as they discussed losing to the boys yet again.

'Can you believe what assholes our friends are?' Pansy asked with a sour face. Y/N nodded.

'Yeah, they can get really competitive.' At this, Astoria let out a sarcastic chuckle.

'What?'

'You're one to talk, Y/N.' Pansy chuckled as Y/N's mouth gaped.

'I am not that bad!' She defended as Astoria rolled her eyes.

'Oh, please. The chess incident?'

Y/N gasped. 'That was not an incident! I was... gesturing, and the pieces just slipped off the board!'

'Oh, right. Right..' Pansy nodded.

'Ugh, shut up! I think I know a way we can beat those assholes..'

The next morning, Y/N sat herself down before the Weasley twins in the great hall. Sharing a look of amusement, they set their cutlery down and grinned.

'Y/N Y/L/N,'

'To what do we owe the pleasure?'

'I need your help.' She sighed. They simultaneously quirked an eyebrow.

'Straight to the point?'

'She must be desperate, Fred.' Rolling her eyes, she leaned forward over the table.

'You two know how to play poker, right?' Waiting until they nodded in response, she continued. 'I need you to teach me how to play. And Pansy, and Astoria.'

'Oh, do you now?'

'And what's in it for us, little snake?'

Huffing, she lowered her voice. 'You can have our winnings, whatever it is. We just need to win the game.'

They seemed to communicate telepathically for a moment before each reaching a hand over the table with another grin.

'Got yourself a deal, Y/L/N.' She couldn't help but return their grin as she shook their hands.

The following evening, when Pansy suggested another game of poker to the group, the boys all immediately declined. It didn't take much more than a pout from all three girls until Blaise was conjuring the poker table in their dorm again.

Once everyone was seated and ready, Theo made to grab the deck of cards, but Astoria got there first.

'Uh, you want me to shuffle those, Tori?' He asked her. 

Astoria gave a sickly sweet smile back. 'I think I'll give it a go, thanks.' She sprung the cards from one hand to the other and began to quickly shuffle them together. The boys raised their brows in shock as Y/N and Pansy could only grin.

'What the fuck?' Mattheo murmured.

As the games went on throughout the night, the girls had won multiple rounds, much to the boys dismay. 

'Okay guys, final round now.' Enzo rubbed his hands together as the gang got ready to play their last game. 

Taking a deep breath, Pansy stated she was in and shoved some chips into the middle of the table, with Blaise, Theo, and Y/N following suit. Y/N drummed her fingers nervously on the table as Mattheo and Enzo took their turns putting the chips in too.

'Would you keep still?' Theo whispered, and Enzo reached over to pin her hand down as Draco shot her a warning look.

'Sorry! I'm just nervous!'

'Alright, in or out, guys?' Blaise asked.

Draco pushed his chips into the centre with a smirk on his face. 'In.'

'Alright, I see you,' Astoria mimicked his actions, pushing some further chips into the table too. Draco merely raised his brow at the girl before him as Enzo asked around the table.

'Pansy?'

'I'm out,' She huffed, putting her cards down, Blaise following suit.

'Me too.'

'Same.'

'I hate this game!' Y/N sulked as she too slammed her cards down, Mattheo quickly grabbed the empty bottle from next to her and slid it towards Draco, who was on the other end of the table. Y/N gave him a pointed look as Enzo sniggered behind him.

'I fold.'

'Fold.'

'That just leaves you two then.' Pansy said, leaning forward onto her hands and looking towards Draco and Astoria.

'Oh, I'm very in.' Draco said, tossing some more chips into the pile.

'Astoria?'

'Okay, Draco, I see you. And I will raise you, ten galleons.'

'Fine, I'm in.'

At this, Astoria grinned. 'How many do you want?'

'One.'

'Okay... dealer takes two. What are you betting?'

Draco thought for a moment as he glanced at his cards, his poker face well in tact. 'Five galleons.'

Nodding, Astoria pushed some pieces into the middle once again.  'See your five, and I raise you... twenty galleons.'

Y/N gasped, Enzo's eyes widened, Blaise sat forward on his chair, and Pansy covered her mouth.

'I'll see your twenty and raise you twenty-five.' Theo dramatically fanned himself while Mattheo crossed his arms over his chest.

'I see your twenty-five, and, uh... Y/N, get my purse.' 

Y/N fumbled with her wand as she mumbled a quick 'accio'. Once she had Astoria's bag, she opened her purse and pulled a face. 'Tori, there's nothing in it.'

'Okay, then get me your purse.' Y/N shot to the other side of the room, grabbing her purse.

'Here! Good luck!'

'Okay... I see your twenty-five, and I raise you... thirty.'

'Forty! Five! Forty-five!' Pansy gasped, having grabbed her own purse, and now stood with Y/N behind Astoria. She gave both girls a thankful squeeze of their hands and directed her eyes back to Draco, who was pulling out his wallet.

He scanned the object in his hand, pulling some money out before nudging the boy in the seat next to him. 'Enzo, I'm a little shy.'

'That's okay, Draco; you can ask me anything!' Enzo tutted, nudging his shoulder into Draco's. Mattheo's hand shot to the bridge of his nose in disbelief as Draco scoffed.

'What do you need, mate?' Theo asked as he and Blaise moved to stand behind Draco.

'Fifteen.'

'Here's ten.' Theo chucked the money onto the table over Draco's shoulder as Blaise dug into his wallet too.

'I got five.' 

'Thanks. Okay, I'm calling your forty-five. What do you have?' Draco asked, keeping his cards face down on the table. Astoria took a deep breath as the girls behind her held hands nervously. Her eyes darted up to meet Draco's, and she sat for a minute before laying her cards out on the table.

'Full house.' Y/N and Pansy gasped in excitement, all eyes now moving to Draco. He, too, sat for a moment, his eyes never leaving the brunette in front of him.

'You got me.' He cracked a small smile as Astoria jumped up to hug the girls behind her, all three squealing in excitement. Draco heard the sharp intakes of breath and the groans behind him as he felt someone pat him on the shoulder.

'It's alright, mate.' Theo spoke as Draco stood and turned towards them.

'It's a tough hand to beat!' Enzo chimed in, Mattheo made his way to the other side of Draco, and clapped him on the back.

'I thought we had them.' He said, giving Draco a look. 

'Ah well, when you don't have the cards, you don't have the cards.' He shrugged back. 'But look how happy she is. They are,'

The boys turned to the three girls, who were now laughing giddily as they held hands. Enzo smiled, watching his best friends twirl around the room before a look of realisation crossed his features. The three other boys seemed to put the pieces together just as quickly as they all gave Draco a look, eyes darting from the blonde before them to his unturned cards on the table.

Simultaneously, all five boys made a dive for the table.

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

Hi vinnie!! I was wondering if I could get how the drivers (franco, kimi a, Ollie, Dino and oscar) if you don't mind. How they would react if reader didn't pick up one of their calls cause they were busy,? More specifically if it was a triple header and reader couldn't make it to the race?

And if it's no issue can I be 🍪?

absolutely you can! added to the claimed list :)

dino beganovic:

so dramatic about it

knows you're fine and therefore feels perfectly entitled to his melodrama

he's spamming you with goofy messages

calls you pookie at least twice

yk how cats when you close a door on them go berserk scratching at it?

that's dino

LET HIM INNNNNNNNNNN

franco colapinto:

i think he panics the most

his first thought is that you've died and not that you're busy

he's used to having your full attention okay

especially if it's the last race of a triple header and he hasn't seen you in about a month?

boy is absolutely convinced he can't survive without you

calls over and over until you pick up

kimi antonelli:

probably the only one to just accept that you're busy lmao

he'll go on tiktok or something until you're free

will definitely send you any funny/cute videos on his fyp tho

ollie bearman:

the whiniest little baby you have ever seen

texts every five minutes "are you free yet"

gives you no time to reply before he's sending like a million frowny faces and teddy bear emojis

if you question the teddy bears he says it's to make sure you don't forget him

he's blowing up your phone and your boyfriend. but yeah, you'd forget him

he's lucky he's cute and a very good boyfriend

oscar piastri:

deceptively needy

also like a cat in that he's usually fine to do his own thing and will voluntarily spend time alone

but if he's forced to be alone he will Hate it

kinda just keeps texting you 'casually' and drops in a 'if you want to facetime i'm free' every few minutes

he really wants to see your face and hear your voice but he refuses to admit it

mostly because he knows it's a slippery slope if he admits to himself that he misses you

[moonspirit]

I sincerely think that someone should seriously talk to Annie at VBEOW so that the poor girl finally opens her eyes and realizes that there was never a "broken" relationship between her and her father, what there was was an abuser and a victim, who Say how sick it is that an abuser asks his victim to live with him to make up for his mistakes instead of acting like someone genuinely repentant and letting the victim be happy away from him.

However, I don't think it has to be Armin who intervenes in that awakening, he will surely try and Annie will be attacked because in her vision as a victim she is the monster and her father is the poor changed man who wants to correct his mistake and she the bad one in the story that doesn't let him do it. Then everything is going to explode and I already see them blaming each other for several things after this. Personally, Armin is the type of person who angrily says things he doesn't really mean in order to hurt (we saw it with Mikasa and everything he said when our boy was on the edge) But these are ramblings.

It will definitely have to be either Pieck or Oliver who makes her change her mind about her father, it will hurt and it will be a huge reality shock for our Annie. But really all his communication problems, self-esteem and mistrust COME BECAUSE OF HIM. She has to realize that she is the victim and that a victim could never be happy living with her abuser.

Hello :3!

Annie's father has so far not featured prominently in VBEOW, and while I have no plans to put him in the limelight, the way he raised her is a huge portion of the person she is, and part of her past. And the past is very important, ofc.

Atm the relationship between them is "something that exists", at best. It's not comfortable, it's not warm, it hasn't stepped beyond the past, but it is something, and it is "stable". The subject matter of the life Annie lived with him when she was a child, and what she endured is not something she likes to address. She has massive trouble acknowledging the necessity of thinking about it multiple times through the chapters: when she first sees Aoife's bruises, when Aoife asks to be taught how to fight, when she visits her father in Ch.9, when she's in the middle of training the girl and remembers the sensations of insects.... and so on. It's also important to remember that while Armin has explicitly acknowledged the existence of her scars and the fact that he knows who caused them - and Annie accepts this, she has still not talked about it to him. He knows, and she knows he knows, and that's that - the status quo.

My point being that Annie does not "talk", and relevant to this topic particularly, Annie does not talk about her father, and does not want to voluntarily think of those bad memories.

There is guilt, however, surfacing. Guilt that he's crippled, guilt that he's alone, guilt that she isn't doing enough to repair the relationship. She would've been more than happy to take the chance to live with him, pre-Kald. But now she has so much, so many people surrounding her, teaching her everyday that she's cared for, loved, and looked after with respect... and she's changing, slowly, growing out of all the things that scared and stunted her. So the realisation that she isn't really looking forward to moving in with her father is quite a shock for her. But again, the two problems: (1) Unless Annie finally wants to "understand" the trauma she faced and how her father was not right for it, and (2) unless she "talks", there is nobody who is going to know of the problems she's trying to deal with (or not deal with, rather) regarding her father.

Then again :3! Things will be interesting! We'll see!

Thank you so much for reading, and for sharing your thoughts T////T I appreciate it!

[salternateunreality2]

What is the Training room on floor 49 used for, other than training? Do the idiots SOLDIERs use it to watch movies? Do they have dance competitions? "Set the target on fire without igniting the highly flammable materials arranged around the target" competitions? Do they put the "Do not disturb" sign and sleep there? Have they ever had a food fight there?

An excellent question.

Let's start off with the thing young, virile, testosterone-laden, active men would do with access to virtual reality on this scale: duck!

Aka training! Training to duck projectiles to avoid penetration! By projectiles!

Oh, you said other than training. Then fuck, they would definitely fuck. The VR club is a thing. The VR mile high club is a thing. The VR tenta- nevermind. Little do they know that SESSIONS CAN BE RECORDED.

Until someone figures it out and there's a whole new problem with exhibitionists BUT BACK TO BEING WHOLESOME...

Movies: Maybe. I'm on the fence about whether Shinra would let anything other than monopoly propaganda be written for his VR tech, unless the tech is done by someone else. I could see him doing limited releases for the rich and famous (for a price), in which case the goofballs professional fighters would definitely steal the films and put them into their training rooms. I could also see him not having enough imagination to let the arts near his tech for anything other than boring propaganda purposes, in which case no one would voluntarily sit through it more than once after being enrolled in SOLDIER.

Dance competitions: oh. Hell. Yes. In canon, Cloudzack mentions that dancing was part of SOLDIER training, so you bet your sweet butt they're having dance-offs in ridiculous simulated locations.

Target practice: most definitely, since that's what the rooms are actually for.

Sleepovers: spicy and non-spicy both. Sometimes Zack will set it to simulate Gongaga and sit in the jungle sniffling a little bit as he rocks himself to sleep because he is homesick AF. He's also brought his friends there to tour and talk about his home. Several other random SOLDIERs will too, but Zack's the one who does it the most.

Food fight: No, and if they did, they had Kunsel wipe the footage and Zack spent hours hand-scrubbing all the equipment. Not that it happened. Because it didn't. And if it HAD and Angeal wasn't there to cover for them afterwards, there would have been hell to pay, so they would be VERY BLESSED by Angeal finding them and not someone else.

That equipment is extremely expensive and it would be a miracle that cleanup duty and 4am drills were the only consequences. So really, if it HAD happened, which it DIDN'T, everyone would be advised to be VERY GRATEFUL if Angeal caught them.

Genesis fully admits to using it as a private reading room.

Sephiroth really likes going with Angeal, Genesis, or Zack to their hometown sims, even if it tears at his heart a little more every time. He loves seeing them so happy and desperately wants that for himself.

Sephiroth, after several years of getting to know Lazard and a lot of overthinking and help from Angeal and Kunsel, invites him on a picnic in there. To, uh, inspect the VR station. For science. Not romance that he read about in Zack's magazine.

Everyone sneaks their buddies/lovers in at some point, and only those who are good friends with Kunsel get away with it. Kunsel accepts payment in ~favors~ and pizza.

[mandalorianchronicles]

While I’m not a dinbo fan (din/fennec all

The way) I do have to say your positivity of this season is refreshing. I feel like I’ve been defending this season all by myself. Dave and Jon are excellent writers and I trust them with my whole heart. This season has really focused on the subtle plot choices that are going to come clashing together and make sense.

Nice to see another fan enjoying the show. 🧡

I love this! Thank you so much for sharing these thoughts. It's so nice to hear from other voices who are not so quick to jump on the negativity bandwagon. The Mandalorian tag has definitely had its ups and downs over the seasons. I can remember when the chief complaint was that there were too many episodes with canned plots that were "filler" or "slow" or "side quests" and everyone kept asking "where is the plot?" Of course, the overarching plot (that all those canned episodes contributed important pieces to) always came crashing down in the last few episodes of the season and they complained about that too.

This season has seen a lot more world building and has been incredibly focused on character development. The chief complaint I've heard now is that Din's character is "regressing" or being "sidelined". In the first two seasons, Din's priority was a) keeping Grogu alive and b) getting Grogu to a permanent home. Since The Book of Boba Fett, Din has accepted that Grogu is now his responsibility for the long haul. That has shifted his whole world. He can't keep dragging a baby on bounty hunting missions and even if he could, he wants something better for Grogu. He wants to give him a home and people, a stable lifestyle. Bo-Katan can make that happen and he is willing to support her in any way possible to help her succeed - not just for his and Grogu's benefit - because he truly believes in her.

And though I understand and respect that Dinbo is not everyone's cup of tea, I do believe that is the direction the writers are taking their relationship, especially in light of the fact that Bo has voluntarily (with zero prompting from Din) assumed a motherly role with Grogu. For me, I just really want to see these characters find some peace and happiness. I know that in Star Wars peace is always temporary, but it would be very satisfying for me to see Grogu, Din, and Bo (three characters who started this journey utterly alone) become a family. They have each grown so much over these three seasons and the writers have spent the most time focusing on them for a reason. I believe their story can be told well without detracting from the bigger picture of restoring Mandalore and pushing back against the restoration of the Empire.

We know that Star Wars fans are a toxic bunch who aren't happy unless they're complaining. I'll be the first to admit, I went through a phase where I really hated on the sequels (even though I was actually enjoying them until TRoS). We've all done it. And let's be real, there are legitimate reasons to be critical of some of these shows/movies. But I really do believe that a lot of the negativity over this season of The Mandalorian has been predominantly from fans who were just salty that their hyper specific headcanons weren't coming true or because they jumped the gun and judged it before they got to the end. If I had a nickel for every complaint about loose threads, I'd be rich. Even before the season is complete, the vast majority of those threads or pieces have become relevant and now everyone can clearly see why those were important. Patience is a virtue, y'all. Let the season play out and just learn to enjoy the ride. Save your criticisms for after it's done - you'll probably have a lot less of them and you'll undoubtedly feel less stupid when that plot thread you thought was just dropped actually became relevant (looking at you people who thought they went through all that trouble with IG-11 for no reason). Maybe we should all start meditating on my new favorite Mandalorian proverb:

"One does not speak unless one knows."

It sounds a lot like this other favorite of mine:

"Even a fool is counted wise when he holds his peace; When he shuts his lips, he is considered perceptive." Proverbs 17:28

[asdeloppa]

I think long and hard about mermaid Lance and sailor Keith.

Just imagine: a graceful mermaid whose scales almost merge with ocean water but which shimmers so beautifully in the sun when he chooses to bask in the sun. (I see him as a blue fish cockerel because they are very beautiful and suits Lance. Or as a clown fish in a pinch:)

Meanwhile, I see Keith as a sailor who burns with his work. Who madly loves the smell of the ocean, the sound of water and these splashes right into a smiling face. As a young cabin boy who has just started his journey, filled with love for the sea and hatred for almost all crew members (the exception is Shiro the captain of the ship). Keith would love to get off this ship, but right now it's his only way to go to sea.

Space and the sea are even somewhat similar. Equally mysterious to eerily attractive and incredibly romantic. Watching them, you voluntarily lose track of time in them, you want to get lost, drown in this cold depth.

After they get to know each other (and after Keith's very long acceptance of the fact that all these fish people are not fiction at all) after they get close Lance must definitely offer Keith the appearance of a mermaid the opportunity to live underwater in the ocean as Keith always wanted (I do not exclude the magic with which such a transformation is possible. Or you need to eat some special fruit / sea weed from the ocean depths(sorry but hi onepiece and sims:)). Or, based on the canon, you can attribute to him a mermaid mother(although a mermaid father would be more logical if all the other characters are also mermaids. I'm confused with this, okay), thereby explaining his strong craving for the sea. Lots of options to develop the story. (By the way, Keith can be a jellyfish because it stings too (just with a mouth, you know). Or it can be a zebra fish because it is poisonous and red:)

I also have sketches with mermaids

I hope there are not so many mistakes here because English is clearly not my forte and I could have screwed up with the translation. But let's close our eyes to this, shall we? :)

[avatar216]

When I was outside the other day leaving an offering to the gods, I started really thinking about why I personally don't like/subscribe to thinking about the Æsir's conflicts with each other or the Jõtnar as order vs chaos or good vs evil, even though the former is a commonly accepted rebuttal to the latter in arguments. I've accepted that order vs chaos is still just another way to hold on to Christian dualism in some way and the classical model as @skaldish says in one of his posts. I agree with him that the Norse gods are characters first unlike the Greek gods in many ways. I usually look at Loki and the others as beings whose actions are just that actions and beings who have events happen in their lives rather than actions being viewed as aspects of the gods, like Loki's so-called world breaker aspect. I personally feel like this type of thinking can diminish Loki's reasons for leading an army of the Jõtnar and/or dead humans against his fellow gods. I don't think one can really compare Loki to say Eris or Seth who both really embody chaos in the sense that they love to confuse and make discord but yet are measured counter points to positively chaotic beings like Apep and Typhon. I know I'm not alone in thinking this way. It's just not something I see too often in online groups.

To me, Loki in the myths (and in my UPG) comes across as stubborn, impulsive, mischievous, easily made angry, willing enough to fix his or others' fuck ups, cunning, deceitful, a bit foolish, self-confident, down right brazen, quick on his feet, serious when shit gets real, and may be kinda lonely or at least he likes attention a lot but not praise. He doesn't seem to want power much either. I try to avoid using God of x terminology in describing him because for me it doesn't answer the who in the question but rather the what of the question. I could describe him as a god of theft/plunder, war, leadership, deceit, cunning, slander, treachery, and betrayal among other things but that doesn't really explain what he acts like in myth or in my experience with him in dreams. In those he's blond and weirdly serious. The reason I'm explaining this is because I don't think labels and categories like order vs chaos really fit deities like Loki who are complex, confusing, and nuanced and whose actions can't be neatly sorted into boxes. Labels don't seem to stick for very long, I've noticed, when it comes to Loki. A lot of gods could be associated with these same things but that doesn't mean Loki is an equivalent to them. I would say Seth is a chaos god through and through but there's a lot more to him. However, he loves to do the things that fall under the definition of chaos like being confusing and random hence why I and others call him a chaos god. The Ancient Egyptians also did have a clear concept of Order vs Chaos. This isn't a modern projection of dichotomy.

I think we're really influenced not by Christianity, but Greek mythology in the way we approach understanding the gods and myths so far as thinking of gods as having governing domains rather than as beings with certain interests, lives, likes, dislikes, and jobs they do voluntarily. I also wish there was more out there talking about Norse mythology's big thing with the physical and biological sides of things like the world being made out of the body. Different body parts representing the cosmos. Body parts and trees being used for divination purposes etc. I think I agree with Dr. Crawford that a lot of certain concepts probably wouldn't even make sense in Old Norse, because it's a strongly concrete language.

[bubbl3zdaseaotter37]

Rating the Bad Batch: Season 2 Episodes

In celebration of the end of the season (and something I did to occupy myself while I waited) I listed, all the season 2 episodes. It also turned out a lot longer than I originally anticipated. I love talking about characters and plot and all the writing stuff!

Anyways, the usual disclaimer: these are MY opinions, and MY analyses that I thought might be fun to share.

The Outpost

This one is definitely going to be the longest of all of my explanations, so go to the bathroom, grab your popcorn, etc. while you still can.

Just to clarify, I have never been a Crosshair stan. I also never hated Crosshair. I wanted him to come back to the Batch, but I wasn’t sure what could push him over the edge and cause him to desert the Empire like the series has been alluding to since the finale of season one. This episode was that final push, and it just drop-kicked me off the cliff right along with him. Not only was this episode a visual masterpiece, full of symbolism and emotion, but it was also the perfect balance of character focus and plot relevance, which is ironic seeing as the Batch wasn’t even in it.

From the beginning, I already knew what kind of episode this would be. Lieutenant Nolan, introduced in a seamless fashion, was the perfect villain for this episode, and I think we all knew he would get his comeuppance in the end. Taken separately Nolan was just another inexperienced and power-hungry imperial officer who viewed clones as hardly anything more than expendable parts, useless old equipment that needed to be disposed of. He was just another, if slightly more vocal, Admiral Rampart. However, it was still Lieutenant Nolan’s actions that pushed Crosshair to his breaking point. 

Then we meet Commander Mayday. Then, Commander Mayday meets our protagonist. As soon as he was introduced, I fell in love with this guy. I only realized later that it was because he reminded me of the clones from the Clone Wars that we had come to know and love. Rex’s unfailing loyalty, Fives’ sarcastic demeanor, Cody’s experienced leadership, Hunter’s brotherhood. Mayday was the perfect contrast for Nolan’s selfishness.

Mayday immediately accepts Crosshair for who he is, doesn’t ask him to elaborate on how he got there, and treats him like his equal. Again, a drastic contrast to Nolan, who clearly sees clones as lesser beings, unworthy of his time and effort. Mayday is the brother that Crosshair so desperately needs.

I think it also says something about Crosshair’s character. He is loyal to a fault.

So far, we have already seen his loyalty to the Empire tested. Even if he won’t admit it, Mayday gained his unending loyalty after he saved Crosshair’s life. Crosshair had complained about “dead weight,” only to voluntarily carry an injured and dying Mayday all the way back to the Outpost. That’s how desperate Crosshair was to have a brother again.

And then, it was all for nothing. Nolan refused to help the two of them, Mayday died for a pointless mission, and Crosshair was left with nothing. I don’t believe that Crosshair expected to live after he shot the Lieutenant, that was just how little he still had to live for.

I think the biggest point of this episode wasn’t just to be the final reason for Crosshair to leave the Empire. It was also to make Crosshair realize how lonely he was. How much he missed his squad. And this was only supported by what happens in Tipping Point.

2. Tipping Point

There was so much going on in Tipping Point, but I think it was the perfect setup for whatever’s going to go down in the last two episodes. Not only is Echo back, but he’s back with a purpose: setting up what I hope will finally reunite Crosshair and the Bad Batch. Our glimpse into what Echo has been up to for the last five episodes was also pretty cool. (And they brought Howzer back)

3. The Crossing

This episode was another “filler” that I liked mostly because of the character development. We finally get that tender moment between Tech and Omega that I had been waiting for since the beginning. We also got to see the fallout of Echo’s absence as Omega comes to terms with Echo’s choice to leave them, which was something we didn’t get to see a lot of for Crosshair.

4. Truth and Consequences

It’s hard to ignore this episode as the mid-season finale. The Bad Batch meets Rex again, Rampart gets his comeuppance, we finally get to see the final fate of the clones, and Echo chooses his own path. I think it was the perfect way to up the stakes, and bring the second narrative following the clones still in the Empire to an end: with Sidious’ victory.

5. The Solitary Clone

Since the ending of the last season, we were left wondering what happened to Crosshair. Now, we find out that the Empire took their sweet time rescuing him. Cody becomes one of the deciding factors for Crosshair’s eventual desertion of the Empire. Cody’s words are what finally cause Crosshair to stop following orders blindly. I think this episode was an extremely important moment in our favorite sniper’s development.

6. The Clone Conspiracy

This episode is mostly here because of its awesome setup for the next episode. It was really cool seeing the clones’ spreading dissidence, as well as those who continue to follow orders. Senator Riyo Chuchi’s return was also really cool to see. I can’t wait to see what Chuchi gets up to with Rex and the other renegade clones.

7. Faster

I’m sure that by now, you all have realized that I am a huge fan of character-centric episodes. What other people call “filler,” I see as an opportunity to get to know our favorite characters better! For me, Faster was one of those episodes. It was really fun and entertaining to see Tech’s more feral side, if you ask me! 

Additionally, this episode was great foreshadowing of the developments between Cid and the Bad Batch. Although I do think it would be odd if the show were to leave their relationship as it is. I doubt this is the last we’ll see of Cid.

8. Ruins of War

Again, seeing Tech’s feral side was pretty crazy. I have to admit, he had me scared when he got stuck under that crate. I think anyone who watched Andor will understand.

Anyways, this was the climax of the first arc of the season, and ended with another important theme of the story. Echo wants to do something about the Empire, Hunter wants to remain safe and hidden. Other than that, it didn’t have all that much groundbreaking themes or developments.

9. Metamorphosis 

This episode was pretty fun! I liked the horror-style beginning, and it was essential to the play because it revealed to the Empire that the Bad Batch was, in fact, not dead. The Batch uncovered a new conspiracy: the Zillo beast, a loose end which I am glad has finally been resolved. I’m also somewhat startled by the similarities between Fives’ discovery of the chips and this. I just hope it doesn’t turn out the same way.

I guess the only reason this episode wasn’t a little higher on the list is because it wasn’t the spiderweb of character development and plot that some of the other episodes in the season were.

10. Spoils of War

Honestly, I was kind of surprised I didn’t rate this one higher up on my list. After all, it was the season premiere, and a very exciting story full of conflict both plot-wise and between the characters. I don’t really have any problems with it, per se, I just think it worked better as a set-up for the climax of the following episode, along with Hunter and Echo’s moral differences, which would resolve themselves in Truth and Consequences.

11. Pabu

Pabu was, almost literally, the calm before the storm. It’s important in a story to see the characters happy, if only for a short while, because it makes the darkness that follows all the more stark and painful for the audience. Seeing the Bad Batch so content on Pabu prepared us for the coming storm.

I think we can all agree it was a much needed break, but I still have an issue with Phee. It just confuses me that they have known her for such a short time, and are so quick to trust her with everything. I do wish we had seen more of her first, more development of their relationship before the Batch placed their trust in her so completely.

12. Tribe 

Again, this episode was mainly filler, but I did enjoy seeing Gungi again! The episode called back to the fact that the war and its fallout had caused so much displacement, even for literal kids like Gungi and Omega. It helped to set up Hunter’s concerns that we see on Pabu, that he doesn’t want to strip Omega of her childhood.

13. Retrieval

Again, this episode acted as a call to change, as well as to set up the Batch’s conflict with Cid. When the Marauder is stolen, Hunter (and the others for that matter) realize how important this ship is to them. It’s their home. In turn, Hunter realizes that he wants something better for Omega, that she deserves a place to call “home,” as is cemented when Benni chooses to remain on his home planet rather than find somewhere else. Seeing Omega with Benni reminds us, as in Tribe, that she is just a kid, and she needs a chance to make friends with other kids. Otherwise, it remained another filler episode.

(Also, that trust fall between Omega and Hunter literally had me yelling)

14. Entombed 

This episode just didn’t do it for me. It was entertaining as a little Indiana Jones style adventure, and introduced a character that would affect the Batch for the foreseeable future, but I don’t think it did much for the latter. 

Unlike a lot of the other “filler” episodes this season, such as Tribe, or The Crossing, we didn’t get a lot of character focused moments. Normally, I’d be fine with this. It’s good to have a light-hearted episode every now and again! I really enjoyed Faster, even though it could also be categorized as “filler.” The major character related issue was the Bad Batch’s introduction to Phee, which for me is a whole other issue.

I was really disappointed with how they introduced Phee as a major character, and I would claim that she is one. So far, she has contributed quite a lot to the Bad Batch, and is one of the main reasons they’re considering staying permanently on Pabu. In the beginning of the episode, she was construed, at least in Hunter’s point of view, as a not very trustworthy character. At least, that was what I picked up. I also wouldn’t have guessed, from the introduction, that she would be a character who would stick around for so long. There’s so many other things I have to say about Phee, I think I’ll just leave it at this: her introduction did not do her justice, and that was the main point of this episode. That’s why Entombed is at the bottom of my list.

[ckret2]

Chapter 7's been updated for TBOB compatibility! It's also on AO3! And this one's got a LOT of edits, so I recommend rereading it.

"Hey," I hear you say, "I already read this chapter once, why should I read it again?"

Because this chapter heavily changes his first few minutes of life; it explains some of his powers that were previously only explained much later in the fic; better explains his motivations for his early actions; and it also includes a brand new—

Because the chapter's so different, I saved the original version of the first half of the chapter in case y'all wanna compare/contrast to see how much is different. Took out a lot of talk about the Axolotl, since Bill's not surprised to be alive in this version like he was in the original; I'll find somewhere else later in the fic to put the axolotl stuff back in.

####

Bill liked collecting prophecies about himself. Interdimensional historical records only lightly alluded to his presence, but that didn't matter. History was written by the winners about the losers. Prophecies were written by the losers about the winner.

He liked being so important—dangerous enough that people felt the need to write fairy tales about how to kill him.

And he liked the warnings about what threats to look out for.

The Axolotl's "redemption" wasn't a prophecy so much as an offer—although Bill had learned of it in the form of a prophecy, passed from Axolotl to prophet and from believer to believer until the divine gossip grapevine finally reached him. The stupid salamander never even had the guts to extend the offer to Bill personally. And as such, he knew little about the details—like whether it was a limited-time offer that had expired a million years back, or whether Bill could only accept the Axolotl's conditions voluntarily rather than under duress... or even whether it was true. 

Imprisoned in Stanley Pines's burning mind, stripped of every trick and spell he knew, reduced to a delicate two-dimensional shape on a collision path with a three-dimensional fist, he had called out to the Axolotl and desperately prayed it was true.

####

So the fact that he could remember all this was a good sign: he was alive, and he still had his memories.

The prophecy as he'd heard it said something about getting a full pardon by taking another shape in another time—he'd worried that might mean reincarnation, with no recollection of his former life. But no. He was still Bill Cipher. He could pick up where he left off.

Just as soon as he oriented himself.

It took a moment to figure out how to peel open his eyeballs. Two of them, he was pretty sure. He'd expected to be a square or something. Maybe isosceles. But—he rolled his eyes experimentally—he was some three-dimensional animal? His brain registered the sky above as a hazy something-blueish, but that didn't mean much until he knew what kind of color vision this species had. The sun made a long streak across the sky and burned to look at.

He was sure he'd worn one of these creatures before. On a hunch, he ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth—definitely human. His rib cage twitched as he laughed—a bitter hiss, the first time he'd used this body's voice. The Ax had a sick sense of humor, sticking Bill with the species that killed him. Well, fine. He knew more about humanity than humans themselves did, and he'd worn countless human bodies before. This was one of the easiest starts he could ask for.

Now that he knew what he was, the muscle memory came more easily. He sat up on the warm concrete ground to inspect his new prison. Four limbs with five mini-limbs each, no interesting mutations or deformities that he could see, yawn. And human skin came in such painfully boring neutral tones; he'd have to redecorate. He flexed his finger joints experimentally, imagining his hand encased in gold rings and bangles. He could live with that until he figured out how to recreate his real body. The skin was reasonably elastic, neck felt too narrow (he hated how goofy human necks looked), an impressive 20 for 20 arched fingerprints and toeprints (quirky, but Bill suspected the Ax wanted to ensure he'd stand out if he ever got his fingerprints in a police database), head line like a river, absolutely hideous heart line, so-so melanoma resistance, healthy-looking cellulite pattern...

While in the middle of trying to contort himself like a cat licking its butthole, from the corner of one of his eyeballs, he spied a mass of golden yellow filaments dangling from the top of his head. Several internal organs automatically convulsed and spasmed at the sight; white lights and awful gory memories and the room he'd died in flashed by his mind's eye; he felt the flesh on the inside of his throat struggle to thrash around, and had to seal a hand over his mouth to keep from regurgitating whatever was inside him. He closed his eyes to hide the awful filaments dangling down from his scalp but now he couldn't stop feeling them brush against his cheeks and shoulders. For a long moment he was paralyzed in place, heavy breaths whistling through his ridiculous little nose tubes, mentally battling his own body's attempt to revolt against him in his moment of weakness.

This inspection was just a distraction. He couldn't ignore that he was stuck in a carcass made of meat, and even as his pulse pounded in his ears he was marching toward decay. He hated this body. He hated it.

Somebody was going to pay.

####

Bill saw the time police coming around the corner of a crumbling building several minutes before they would arrive. Of all the rotten luck— He contemplated running, considered how far he'd get in a fresh, uncalloused, nude body before a shard of glass ripped his bare feet open, and instead hurried to hide behind a pile of rubble.

As the officers drew closer to the moment Bill saw they would turn the corner, he heard one say: "Would you put that stupid thing away and focus? We're suppose to be on the lookout for Cipher."

Bill's heart leaped into his throat. (He was pretty sure it wasn't actually his heart, but it sure felt like that. Huh. That's one baffling English idiom explained.) They'd found him already? How? Had the Axolotl snitched on him to Time Baby? Was this "second chance" just a petty trick to get him locked up? Maybe it wasn't too late to run—

"But this is stupid," another voice grumbled. "Cipher won't show up here. This is worse than hover car crosswalk duty—"

"Listen," the first officer snapped. "Today is exactly one thousand years since Cipher's death and this is the exact place it happened. Time Intelligence is sure that if he finds a way to return, it'll be on some dramatic anniversary. Need I remind you we've got officers swarming Roadkill County for six months in both directions from his death—"

"I know, I know—"

"—and patrolling on every anniversary for the first century, every centennial anniversary for the first millennium, every millennial anniversary for the first—"

"I know, I know—"

"And if he's going to make a move, there's a high risk that the first millennial anniversary—"

"But the world is ending in less than four months! Why would he come here?"

"I don't know, maybe he wants to watch Time Baby's molecules reconstitute! Our only job is to find Cipher if he is here—Would you put that away!"

The world was ending. That made this 3012. The Ax probably thought he was cute, dropping Bill exactly a thousand years after his death. 

Even better: Time Baby and his goons didn't actually know Bill was here. He could still take them by surprise.

Best of all: what exactly had the Ax promised? Something something another time, another form—Bill never recalled hearing anything about another place. He was still in Gravity Falls.

And that gave him an idea.

Bill peeked over the rubble. The officers were so close to the moment they would turn the corner that Bill could see the irritation on one's face and the handheld game console in the other's hands; and he was also beginning to see the fuzzy shape of his own future self approaching them as a plan formed in his head. He ducked again. Only one shot at this. Would a human think he looked harmless and vulnerable? Those uniformed slabs of muscle were two feet taller than him, and he was naked. Check and check.

He waited until they turned the corner, then stepped out from behind the rubble pile, waving. "Oh, thank goodness, the police!" Probably the first and last time he was ever saying that. "I'm lost, confused, and can't seem to find my clothes. Can you he—" He tripped on a concrete chunk, yelped, and had to grab the officers for balance. "... help." Okay. That was good. Extra harmless-looking. He meant to do that. But he made a mental note to spend a few minutes on walking practice once he got away.

Grumpy Officer was looking toward the sky. "Oh." Gamer Officer was hiding his face behind his game console. "Oh dear." Grumpy Officer cleared his throat and said, "Of—of course. We're happy to help, Miss...?"

Heck. Think of a human name fast. "Tomato."

Gamer Officer said, "This entire decade is supposed to be evacuated, Ms. Tomato. Where and when did you come from?"

"I'm not sure, it's all such a blur! One minute it's August in 2912², the next it's... whatever this is!"

"I have family in 2912². Beautiful year," Gamer Officer said helpfully. Bill decided not to point out that, given how linear time works, he had family in every year.

Grumpy Officer said, "We'll get you to your contemporary authorities, ma'am. They'll help you get home." Still trying not to look directly at Bill, he detached his time tape from his belt, drew it out, and hesitated. He turned to Gamer Officer. "Hold on. Weren't Augusts abolished in squared years?" (Darn. Bill never could remember if it was Augusts or Julys.)

Both officers were desperately avoiding looking directly at Bill, one had his hands full with the game console, the other had his time tape extended inches in front of Bill—now. Bill flung his whole weight on Grumpy Officer's arm to wrench the tape away from him, pulled out a random length, and snapped out of 3012 before the officers could registered what happened.

####

The first jump was just to escape. The second jump took him to a ruined battlefield in the middle of the Time Baby War—Bill knew his human history—where Bill could dump this cheap police time tape riddled with temporal tracking technology and scavenge a military tape off a fallen soldier.

By the time he found a tape in good condition, his abdomen, eyes, and head had developed an assortment of overlapping aches. Nothing he couldn't ignore. But it was worth the effort: the military tape was less prone to overheating, more lax on permitting temporal doubles and time loops, and built with standard-issue paradox-cloaking stealth tech. Even if the time cops followed him this far they'd never know where he went next.

He was continuing where he'd left off.

He wanted to return to the moment he died and murder the Pines on the spot—or, better yet, warn himself ten minutes before it happened. But even the best time tape would struggle to target a temporal paradox as complicated as Weirdmageddon; and besides, Bill was self-aware enough to know if he tried to warn himself, he was at risk of being zapped before he convinced himself of his identity, and then he was really doomed. So he'd just have to focus on revenge.

He'd murder the Pines and anyone else in their stupid shack. He'd dig up the buried treasure Pine Tree and Shooting Star had buried in the woods and liquidate some of the gold. He'd fast-forward until the murder investigation was over and the shack was back on the market, buy it himself, repair the portal to the Nightmare Realm, and restart Weirdmageddon in his dead enemies' own home.

He could figure out how to get back in his real body and pop the stupid weirdness bubble around the town as he went. Minor details. For now, all he cared about was killing the two-faced twins who'd dared try to stop him.

And he couldn't wait to see the look in Stanford's eyes.

The cops said Time Baby had them patrolling Gravity Falls for six months after Bill's death. He set his time tape for February 25, 2013. He appeared in a suburban backyard, snatched a bedsheet drying on a clothesline and a couple safety pins from a nearby laundry basket, made himself a chiton tunic, and headed for the Mystery Shack.

####

In retrospect, he probably should have planned the murders a little more thoroughly.

Time for chapter 7 of "Human Bill Attempts To Murder The Pines And Ends Up Their Prisoner/Involuntary House Guest," which will eventually get a title, I'm sure.

Featuring an explanatory flashback on how the hell Bill made it from reincarnation to an attempted murder at the Mystery Shack; his first full day as the shack's prisoner; and angst.

The masterpost for the full fic is available here! Chapter edited 9/23/2024 for TBOB compatibility!

The first thing the reincarnated Bill Cipher's new ears heard was a crack of thunder.

And then he felt the damp soil beneath him and the chill air above him, the position of his limbs, smelled the green forest life.

He was alive, he was... he inspected his teeth with his tongue (ooh, wisdom teeth)—he was an adult human, and he had his memories. It worked. His head felt clear, freed of the fog of the constant antipsychotic drug fog. He was still Bill Cipher. He could pick up where he left off.

Just as soon as he oriented himself.

It took a moment to remember how to peel open his two new eyeballs. He was half-laying half-sitting in a freshly dug hole too small for his whole body, limbs splayed out over the dirt. Had the Theraprism's reincarnation machine spontaneously generated his new body straight from dirt? How Pandoran.

He was in the center of a tiny clearing, surrounded on all sides by a ring of evergreen trees but with a view of the cold, clear sky above. His brain registered it as a hazy something-blueish—the color Earth's sky usually appeared when he was looking through human eyes. And that meant one thing:

Whenever and wherever he was, it wasn't Weirdmageddon.

No way had that dumb reincarnation machine actually accounted for Earth's uneven weirdness to randomize when and where he landed. It would ruin everything if it had! 

He climbed unsteadily to his feet, searching the area for any identifiable features.

Through the trees, in the distance, he saw the cliffs that the Trilazzx Betians had flown their ship through. Okay! Great! Just as he'd hoped, Gravity Falls's Weirdness Attractor Zone had drawn in an ancient reincarnating alien soul like a flame drawing in a moth. He was exactly where he wanted to be. 

He just wasn't when he wanted to be. Why hadn't he landed during Weirdmageddon? What moment in all of Earth's history could possibly be weirder?

The stone bridge over the hole left by the main body of the ship had collapsed, and human train tracks bridged the gap. That left a pretty narrow window he could have landed in, a little over 200 years around Weirdmageddon.

Maybe Weirdmageddon was too weird to hit. Bill had killed time itself. Maybe rather than falling into the weirdness barrier surrounding the town, he'd slingshotted around it like light around a weirdness black hole's event horizon and been flung somewhere else on the timeline. Did the barrier work like that? He wasn't sure, he'd have to ask—

No. Bill wasn't asking him. This time, he'd figure out how to bring down the barrier himself.

But if Bill was in Gravity Falls, there was a chance his backstabbing pawn was currently here, too. And if so, that meant he could personally show him just what happened to people who crossed Bill Cipher. Maybe he'd strangle him with his bare hands, just so he could look in his horrified eyes as the life left them—

His fingernails dug into his fleshy palms as he imagined wrapping his hands around Ford's throat. This body would never do, though; he'd have to shed it. If he were post-Weirdmageddon, his corpse had to be somewhere in the area; he could repossess it and pick up where he left off. If he were pre-Weirdmageddon, he wouldn't be able to obtain physical form, but he could just return to the Nightmare Realm and redo Weirdmageddon in a few years, no loss...

He shut the body's eyes and focused on degloving the expendable corpse from the immortal energy being within.

And nothing happened.

He tried again to peel off the body. Nothing. Trying to leave his body felt like sticking a car key in a plastic toddler car: not only did it fail to start the engine, but there wasn't an engine there to start.

Had the reincarnation process altered his soul? Was he no longer a triangle?! Had he been reshaped into a human spirit to match his body, was he gone, had Bill lost himself—?

He didn't realize until he broke skin that he'd started trying to claw his skin off. He forced himself to stop.

But no, that didn't make any sense. Humans could astral project their souls from their bodies. He'd personally taught humans how to do it, so he knew the process. Even if his soul was human, he should have been able to escape this body. So something else was keeping him in. 

But what? Some magic? Something stitching his soul into this body?

The horror ripped raw all his fears, his doubts, his denials; for a moment, he couldn't lie to himself about his situation. So here was the truth:

During the entirety of timeless captivity, he had told himself that the rest of himself, his full self, with all his energy and all his power, had been locked outside the Theraprism; while only the little triangular avatar he used to interact with the world—his anglerfish's lure—was pinched inside, pinched tightly enough that the rest of his power couldn't flow in and could only thrash impotently outside.

But the truth was, he didn't know that. He hoped that, but he didn't know.

The truth was, he hadn't been able to feel his power since the Axolotl dropped him in the Theraprism. The truth was, he wasn't sure if he'd even felt them at all since the moment Stanley's mind began to burn.

It was true that Bill's little triangular avatar was just the little glowing lure dangling from the vast, vast anglerfish of his powers. It was true that Bill's power was contained externally. It was true that he'd been told clearly during admission to the Theraprism that he wouldn't have access to his power.

But he didn't know whether his power was sealed off—like squeezing the walls of a straw shut so no liquid could be sucked through it—or if he'd been cut off from it, like beheading a dragon.

He couldn't feel any of the metaphorical psychic "muscles" he typically used to climb in and out of puppets—as though they'd been amputated. He couldn't feel most of his powers. Why?

Was it because they'd been sealed off at his admittance to the Theraprism and he'd skipped a step during reincarnation that would have unsealed them?

Or because the Theraprism's reincarnation machine, as a therapeutic tool, was designed to prevent recovering patients from fleeing their bodies before they'd finished fully reintegrating into mortal society?

Because he couldn't reach the Nightmare Realm from here?

Because all his power had been destroyed?

Because the reincarnation had truly, irreversibly turned his soul human?

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried, at least, to feel the shape of the energy trapped inside the matter. Was he still a triangle? Or had he been remade human?

He couldn't feel anything. Just blackness and numbness and silence and cold. The space beneath his skin may as well have been a hollow void.

He didn't realize until the blood trickled down his wrists that he'd started clawing his skin again. He stuck his fingers in his mouth to prevent them from clawing again.

When his head bent forward, he spied a mass of golden yellow filaments dangling from the top of his head. Several internal organs automatically convulsed and spasmed at the sight; white lights and awful gory memories and the cold silent suffocating void and the room he'd died in flashed by his mind's eye; he accidentally bit down on his fingers and felt the flesh on the inside of his throat struggle to thrash around; he had to yank them out and seal a rubbery hand over his mouth to keep from regurgitating whatever was inside him. He closed his eyes to hide the awful filaments dangling down from his scalp but now he couldn't stop feeling them brush against his cheeks and shoulders and all he saw was the dark, the endless dark—

He was dizzy. He dropped to his knees, dug his fingers into the soft earth, and tried to remember how to breathe. For a long moment he was paralyzed in place, heavy breaths whistling through his ridiculous little nose tubes, mentally battling his own body's attempt to revolt against him in his moment of weakness.

Somebody would die for this. The Pines family, the zodiac, that backstabbing Axolotl, D-SM5 and all its condescending cronies, the Henchmaniacs who'd abandoned him to the Theraprism, the whole Earth, the whole universe—everyone who'd been responsible for Bill ending up like this. He'd kill and kill and kill until he stopped feeling like he'd been buried alive in hell.

His eyes burned, but he didn't cry.

####

There was a rustling behind him and a human grunt. He turned—and saw, behind him, the beforeimage of a fight a few seconds in the future: a short wide-hipped human female with curly gold hair and a tall narrow human male with straight black hair. There were both naked. Why were a couple of naked humans about to fight in front of him?

Wait—he grasped for a handful of the sickening yellow filaments peeling out of his flesh and pulled it into his peripheral vision. Curly gold. Oh, that was him fighting in the future. He shuddered and let go of the hair. So why was he about to fight a human?

He could figure that out later; he studied the near-future battle in the space in front of him, the blurry moments with several possible outcomes, squinting at the possible futures where he won to see how he did it. He seemed to win in most timelines. Opponent was pretty clumsy—

Even though Bill could see exactly when the human would stumble out from between the trees, the moment still arrived sooner than he would have liked. The human glared down at Bill, panting and sweating in the chill air; and then he asked, suspiciously, "Bill Cipher?" What?

But of course, the human hadn't actually said "Bill Cipher." That's just a convenient translation for a word that can't be rendered in any human orthography. Bill Cipher was one of several names Bill used on Earth, a couple of human words Bill gave to humans as his name because they could pronounce it; he handed out different names to different species. The name this human had said, although heavily accented, was still recognizable as one of the names Bill used in—

—the Theraprism.

His rib cage twitched as he laughed—a high, hissing titter, the first time he'd used this body's voice. "Heyyy, were you one of the guards? Did you get too close to the altar when—"

"You," the guard snarled. "You've gone too far this time. I'm taking you down, Cipher." He charged toward Bill, fist raised.

And Bill just grinned. He had a lot more experience being human than this joker did—and he knew all their weak spots. He'd already seen how this ended.

He let the guard get close enough to begin swinging his fist—then kneed him right in the human design flaw, rammed his head through the guard's nose, and knocked him on his back. The guard was out cold before he hit the ground. Bill stood on his throat until he was sure the guard was never getting up again. He could feel his lungs expanding and contracting and his blood pulsing through his neck; he could feel the adrenaline in his hands and brain like a drug.

He laughed.

It turned out he only needed to kill one person to stop feeling like he'd been buried alive in hell. Now he just felt like he was partially submerged in heck.

Bill was great! Everything was fine! He totally hadn't had a panic attack within five minutes of reincarnation, he definitely knew how to breathe, and he felt fantastic. In fact, he didn't mind being trapped inside a human body at all. It was funny! So, so funny! Funny little prank reality had played on him.

See? He was a good sport. He was the best sport.

Well, he'd get reality back.

####

As he walked in the direction of town, he took stock of his current body and what he could do with it.

He still had his first most important power—the one that even the Theraprism hadn't been able to take away without keeping him drugged out of his mind: his all-seeing eye.

He'd been born with a strange eye that let him see into one higher dimension than everyone else. From the second dimension, he'd been able to see into the third dimension: the starlight and sunbeams shining down on his world. From the third dimension, he could see into the fourth: the past and future superimposed onto the present like transparent ghosts showing him where everyone had been and would be, blurry around the moments where he saw multiple possible futures.

He looked at the sun. At full power, Bill could see days into the future and past—multiple white streaks across the sky tracing the sun's path as it rose and set—and further with a basic telescope; but now, based on the short streak of white light he saw before it trailed off into the blue, he suspected he could only see about fifteen minutes into the future and past if he squinted. And he couldn't see the brilliant ring of extraturquoise that should have haloed the sun. Human color vision was an embarrassment.

In the second dimension, his all-seeing eye had also been able to see through objects—or, rather, over objects, bent up slightly into the third dimension so it could look down upon the flat world. When he tried to bend an eye up into the fourth dimension, he could see through the nearby trees, but it felt like his eyelids were trying to pop his eyeball like a pimple. His eye hadn't started bleeding immediately, so it was easier than trying to peer into the fourth dimension with a puppet's eyes, but not by much. He'd have to use that sparingly. And he'd better not risk attempting pyrokinesis unless the fire was more important than his eyeball.

And finally, for the first time, he turned his full attention to his new prison. He'd gotten a glimpse of it when he'd been watching his future actions, enough to tell it wasn't bad looking for a human. Pretty triangular body shape. Neck was too narrow, though—he hated how goofy human necks looked.

Four limbs with five mini-limbs each, it was nice to have ten fingers again but he didn't see any interesting mutations or deformities, yawn. He'd hoped he might mutate fractal phalanges. And on top of looking disgusting, human skin came in such boring neutral tones; he'd have to redecorate. He flexed his finger joints experimentally, imagining his hand encased in gold rings and bangles. Maybe he could stab some graffiti into his dermis, too. He could live with that until he found his way back to his real body.

Aside from the expected patches of lighter and darker melanin, there was no variation in his skin tone except for a band of slate grey splotches stretching from his left shoulder down to his right hip. They looked like two-day-old bruises, the hemoglobin dull and blackish-blue—but why would an hour-old body be created with a two-day-old bruise?

It took a moment of inspection to recognize that the "bruises" were birth marks, and they took the same path across his torso as the fatal crack that had split his exoskeleton in half. Ugh. Moving on.

He hopped on one foot at a time to inspect the bottoms (and tripped and tumbled into the dirt twice in the process). All 20 toeprints and fingerprints were, unexpectedly, still triangular—Bill wondered if the Theraprism did that on purpose to make reincarnations easier to track—head line like a river, absolutely hideous heart line.

Skin was reasonably elastic. So-so melanoma resistance. Healthy-looking cellulite pattern. How was his design flaw looking?

While in the middle of trying to contort himself like a cat licking its butthole, from the corner of one of his eyeballs, Bill saw two time cops emerging from the trees and heading his way several minutes before they would arrive. Of all the rotten luck— He contemplated running, considered how far he'd get in a fresh, uncalloused, nude body before a sharp rock or broken branch ripped his bare feet open—he'd already had to slow down and adjust his footsteps to be more tentative just from walking toward town—and instead he to hide behind a cluster of trees.

As the officers drew closer to the moment Bill saw them pass his spot, he heard one say: "Would you put that stupid thing away and focus? We're suppose to be on the lookout for Cipher."

Bill's heart leaped into his throat. (He was pretty sure it wasn't actually his heart, but it sure felt like that. Huh. That's one baffling English idiom explained.) They'd found him already? How? Maybe it wasn't too late to run—

"But this is stupid," another voice grumbled. "The energy signal from Cipher's resurrection is already fading, he's got to be long gone by now! Assuming the signal wasn't just an instrument error caused by the dumb ship under town!"

"There's no way it was an instrument error."

"If Time Baby really thought he'd still be here, he'd have sent more than a handful of us! This is worse than hover car crosswalk duty—"

"Look," the first officer snapped, "the tantrum Time Baby threw after the Theraprism notified him that Cipher's at large and probably headed back toward Earth is the worst I've ever seen. Think about the lives lost, man! The cities leveled! How much angrier will he be if no one finds him—"

"I know, I know—"

"—and Time Intelligence is sure that if he's coming back to Earth, it will be here! Need I remind you we've got officers swarming Roadkill County for six months in both directions from Weirdmageddon, and checking the site yearly for the first century in either direction, centennially for the first millennium, millennially anniversary for the first—"

"—I know, I know—"

"—as well as checking out every suspicious energy reading on the whole timeline! I don't know about you, but I do not want to be transferred from 'check out suspicious energy reading' duty to 'six-month stakeout' duty! But if we return to Time Baby with nothing—"

"But what if there is nothing?! Think about it—if Cipher were still here, wouldn't he be, you know, conquering the world?"

(Oh, he wished.)

"It's not our job to make sense of the mind of an escaped alien madman. It's just to find him if he is here—Would you put that away!"

Of course the Theraprism had sent a warning to Time Baby! Time Baby and D-SM5 probably adored each other, pair of dictators that they were.

But: Time Baby and his goons didn't actually know Bill was here. He could still take them by surprise.

And that gave him an idea.

Bill peeked around the trees. The cops were so close to the moment they would emerge from the trees and pass Bill's hiding spot that he could see the irritation on one's face and the handheld game console in the other's hands; and he was also beginning to see the fuzzy shape of his own future self approaching them as a plan formed in his head. He hid again. Only one shot at this. Would a human think he looked harmless and vulnerable? Those uniformed slabs of muscle were two feet taller than him, and he was naked. Check and check.

He waited until they turned the corner, then stepped out from behind the rubble pile, waving. "Oh, thank goodness, the police!" Probably the first and last time he was ever saying that. "I'm terrified confused, and can't seem to find my clothes. Can you he—" He tripped on a root, yelped, and had to grab the officers for balance. "... help." Okay. That was good. Extra harmless-looking. He meant to do that. But he made a mental note to spend a few more minutes on walking practice once he got away.

Grumpy Officer was looking toward the sky. "Oh." Gamer Officer was hiding his face behind his game console. "Oh dear." Grumpy Officer cleared his throat and said, "Of—of course. We're happy to help, Miss...?"

Heck. Think of a human name fast. "Tomato."

Gamer Officer said, "What seems to be the problem, Ms. Tomato?"

Now think of a story. "I... I witnessed a murder!" He pointed back the direction he'd come from. "It's just that way! Hurry!"

Grumpy Officer said, "That's the direction of the signal from Cipher's resurrection! Show us!"

As Bill led them back toward the guard's body, Gamer Officer asked, "Do—do you need some clothing, ma'am?" He patted down his jumpsuit and found no removable clothes.

"It's fine, it's not that cold."

"Did you... lose your clothing during the murder?" Grumpy Officer asked.

"Yep! Sure did!"

"How?"

That was a good question. "I'm not sure, it's all such a blur!"

As they emerged into the small clearing, they stopped dead at the sight of the body. Gamer Officer took one look at its face, turned away, and covered his mouth. Grumpy Officer knelt by it, careful not to touch it as he examined the damage. "He's definitely dead. This doesn't look like Cipher's usual work, though."

Trying to shield his eyes from the body, Gamer Officer asked, "Did you see what did this?"

Did he want to confirm to Time Baby's agents that Bill Cipher had been in the area? Probably not—last thing he needed was more Time Police. "I'm not sure! It could have been a bear."

"Hmm." Grumpy Officer rubbed his chin. "Well—we'll get you to the contemporary authorities, ma'am. This looks like a case for them." 

"You go," Gamer Officer said, voice strained. He pulled his time tape off his belt. "I'll report this to HQ."

"Good idea." Grumpy Officer paused. "Hold on. We don't look like contemporary authorities. How did you know we're cops?"

Both officers were desperately avoiding looking directly at Bill's naked body, one was kneeling by the corpse, the other was turned toward the woods and had his time tape extended inches in front of Bill—now. Bill flung his whole weight on Gamer Officer's arm to wrench the tape away from him, kicked Grumpy Officer's butt to knock him sprawling over the corpse, pulled out a random length of time tape, and snapped out of the year before the officers could registered what happened.

####

The first jump was just to escape. He popped open the time tape with his teeth and a sharp rock and packed it with dirt—it'd probably kill the tape after a jump or two but it would block Time Baby from being able to detect it, which was more important. The second jump took him to a ruined battlefield in the middle of the Time Baby War—Bill knew his human history—where Bill could dump this cheap police time tape riddled with temporal tracking technology and scavenge a military tape off a fallen rebel soldier. Rest in peace, brave rebel—Bill really wished they'd won the war against Time Baby. Maybe he could fix that for them once he was in charge.

By the time he found a tape in good condition, his abdomen, eyes, and head had developed an assortment of overlapping aches. Nothing he couldn't ignore. But it was worth the effort: the rebel military tape was less prone to overheating, more lax on permitting temporal doubles and time loops, and built to hide from Time Baby and his forces with paradox-cloaking stealth tech. Even if the time cops followed him this far, they'd never know where he went next.

He was continuing where he'd left off.

He'd love to return to the moment he died and murder the Pines on the spot—or, better yet, warn himself ten minutes before it happened. But even the best time tape would struggle to target a temporal paradox as complicated as Weirdmageddon—and if his reincarnation had taught him anything, it was that Weirdmageddon clearly sent travelers aimed toward it astray. The pigs had said Time Baby had them patrolling Gravity Falls for six months in either direction of Weirdmageddon; Bill could return to Gravity Falls before then, start the portal up earlier than Stanley managed to, invite himself through and give himself a few warnings about what to watch out for from the humans...

But that wasn't good enough.

Time moved wrong in the Theraprism. He felt like he'd experienced millennia surrounded by its grey tiles and fluorescent lights; but he also felt like time hadn't passed since his death.

His death was as fresh in his mind as if it had been an hour ago.

And the Pines family would pay for it.

First, he'd murder the Pines and anyone else in their stupid shack. He'd decide what to do next from there. Maybe he would jump a few years into the past and start Weirdmageddon early.

Or maybe he'd just continue where he'd left off. He'd find his corpse—he knew it was somewhere out in the woods—and keep it safe in the shack. He'd dig up the treasure Pine Tree and Shooting Star had buried during the summer and liquidate some of the gold. He'd fast-forward until the murder investigation was over and the shack was back on the market, buy it himself, repair the portal, and then, he'd shake his corpse's hand. He'd restart Weirdmageddon in his enemies' own home, wearing his true form—and as soon as that portal opened up, all his power would come rushing back to him from the Nightmare Realm. Maybe not the most efficient plan...

But so satisfying.

He could figure out how to pop the stupid weirdness barrier around the town as he went. Minor details. For now, all he cared about was killing the two-faced twins who'd dared try to stop him.

And he couldn't wait to see the look in Stanford's eyes.

He set his time tape for February 25, 2013—six months and a day after Weirdmageddon.

####

He appeared in a suburban backyard, snatched a bedsheet drying on a clothesline and a couple safety pins from a nearby laundry basket, and made himself a chiton.

Bill Cipher had billions upon billions of eyes on Earth. There were a million in Gravity Falls alone—stuffed into wallets, peering out of grocery store shelves, nestled into book pages, growing on the trees. He shut his flesh eyes to peer through the others, looking for his corpse...

And saw nothing. When he shut his eyes, his vision went completely black. That had never happened before.

It looked like the solitary dullness void.

He shivered and opened his eyes. He could find his body later. He didn't need it! He had his memory, he had his identity, and he had his all-seeing eye. Eyes. Once upon a time that was all he'd needed to liberate a dimension; and it was all he'd need now to liberate himself.

Provided he also had a portal. And that meant he needed to murder some enemies.

He headed for the Mystery Shack.

####

In retrospect, he probably should have planned the murders a little more thoroughly.

####

June 2, 2013

Bill was locked back in the cellar until the humans could Bill-proof the house—cutlery moved out of the kitchen, phones relocated where he couldn't reach them, dangerous chemicals locked away, etc. His cuffs and restraints were removed, he was handed a few granola bars and water bottles and awkwardly gifted a bucket that he received with an expression that suggested he wasn't quite sure what the humans expected him to use it for, and he was locked in.

And at last, everyone could get some sleep.

It was past five in the morning when Dipper and Mabel collapsed back in their beds. With time travel thrown in, they had been up for thirty hours with only an hour or two of napping. And yet, for all their exhaustion, when the first hint of morning grayness lightened the sky outside, both of them were still awake, staring at dust motes and the old wooden ceiling beams.

Mabel sighed heavily.

Dipper said, "You too?"

"Yeah. I guess it's the chocolate shake and pancakes. What's your excuse?"

"Bill ordered coffee for the table, and nobody told me I couldn't have it, so..."

Mabel laughed. "Evil chaos demon got you! You fell for his trap!"

"Oh nooo."

Neither of them needed to admit that it wasn't the caffeine keeping them awake.

"Hold on." Mabel got out of bed, scooted around Waddles—he took up more of the floor than he had last year—and trudged to her suitcase. She tossed half her clothes on the floor, and pulled out—

Dipper laughed weakly. "You brought those?"

"I thought we might need them. You know—being back here, reminded of everything."

Almost as soon as they'd gotten home last summer, Mabel had started knitting throw blankets depicting the anti-Bill zodiac that Ford had drawn. She gave the first to Dipper as his bar mitzvah gift. She kept the second herself. She mailed the other eight to the other members of the zodiac. (The family therapist their parents had started taking them to said self-expression through art was a great way to cope with difficult experiences.)

Ford had told them the zodiac drawing merely represented a list of people, like a chart with table seating arrangements. They knew the symbol itself didn't do anything. It held no magic, it couldn't protect them. Nevertheless, sleeping under his blanket had done more for Dipper's Bipper nightmares than any dream catcher ever could. Mabel thought wrapping up in it felt like a hug from their friends in Gravity Falls.

She handed Dipper his red blanket with the zodiac embroidered in dark green yarn, and pulled out her own rainbow blanket with black embroidery. Mabel wrapped hers around her head and shoulders like a huge hooded shawl and slid back in bed, her mind and dreams now properly shielded. Dipper stared at the face in the middle of the zodiac for a long moment, before he turned the blanket over so Bill's ever-watching eye could only see the dark surface of Dipper's bedsheet.

And then, at long last, they were safe enough to fall asleep.

####

"So then he said—" Bill put on his best impression of Stan's voice, "'Do you expect us to baby-proof the whole shack in five minutes? No! You're going in the cellar!'" It was actually a very good impression. "And now I've been here for hours. If they think they can trick me into staying down here..." A pinball fell between Bill's flipper bats. He sighed and launched another ball.

"It's downright disrespectful, is what it is," the cowboy skull in the pinball machine said. "Sounds like you've had a rough night, pardner."

"You don't know the half of it." Bill lost another ball in the gutter. "Gimme another three."

"That's supposed to be Game Over."

"Come on, I'm having a bad day. Just a friendly match! Look at my reflexes in this body, you and I both know I'm not high score material."

"Okay, okay. Here."

Ford cracked open the cellar door, flung a wad of fabric down the stairs, and shut the door again. "All right," Stan shouted through the door. "No tourists are around. Solitary confinement's over. Put on some normal clothes and knock when you're done."

"It's about time." Bill lost another ball between the flipper bats. "Sorry, 'partner.' Looks like we'll have to finish this game another time."

Stan, Ford, and Soos automatically took a few steps back as creaks and thuds drifted through the door from Bill climbing up the stairs, as though he were a monster they expected to break through the wood and attack them. He shouted, "Hey, how long does it really take to move a few knives to another room, anyway? I was starting to think you planned to leave me down here."

"We needed sleep! We were up all night!"

"How is that my problem? I never told you to sit up all night staring at me—"

After a few more minutes of back-and-forth grousing, Bill knocked on the cellar door to be unleashed. The shack household had scrounged together an XL yellow-beige pine tree t-shirt (surplus from the gift shop), a set of Soos's winter sweatpants (which Bill found too long and set aside), an elastic-waisted plain green skirt in case the sweats didn't fit (some old thing Abuelita never wore), a pair of old swim trunks (to compensate for the fact that nobody had the energy or motivation to go buy their prisoner underwear today), and mismatched flip-flops (from the Mystery Shack's lost-and-found).

The shack household had not scrounged together a broom to give to Bill, and yet when they opened the door, he was holding one, bristles pointed up, like a poorly-dressed witch waiting to go on an evening flight. The potential weapon was promptly confiscated, and Stan, Ford, and Soos escorted Bill around to the back of the shack. He stared out toward the woods as the door was opened for him, but it was impossible to tell whether he was looking for something specific or just getting one last glimpse of the sky before he was incarcerated indefinitely.

The moment Bill stepped inside, Abuelita was in front of him, shoving a hot plate of chicken and enchiladas in his chest. "Welcome. You are staying with us for a while, yes?"

Bill tried to take a step back, bumped into Soos, and automatically took the plate in both hands. He blinked at Abuelita, eyebrows raised in polite bafflement. "Yes?"

"Yes. Soos told me. You missed dinner." There was loose plastic wrap still half-covering the plate, which had been labeled in black marker: para Bill Cifra - NO TOCAR! "I saved you a plate."

"Oh yeah," Soos said, "Abuelita put that in the fridge for you before we ate last night. She's big on hospitality." 

"Well!" Bill beamed. "At least you have some manners—unlike some people around here who apparently don't care if I miss dinner." He shot a sly look at Ford. "Say, didn't I tell you never to call me—"

"Watch it," Ford said warningly. Stan gave him a baffled look.

Bill chuckled. "So! Does this come with silverware, or—?"

"Here." Abuelita offered him a plastic orange baby spoon. "Soos says you do not get the good silverware. So you cannot kill people."

"Yeah, yeah, I know the routine." He tossed the plastic wrap on the floor and attempted to saw off a chunk of enchilada with the soft edge of the spoon. "Between you and me, I'd be more likely to stick a fork in the microwave than try to kill someone with it—but hey, I'm not the warden."

"You threatened to stab me with a fork this morning," Ford said.

"Nooo, I told you why I wasn't going to stab you with a fork. That's the opposite of a threat," Bill said. (Ford exchanged a sideways glance with Stan, who rolled his eyes.) "Anyway, show me what you've done with this place since I last saw it!" He wove past the humans to duck into the kitchen. "I see you finally got rid of that second stove! Really frees up the space in here, doesn't it! Too bad you kept the gas one. I didn't wanna say anything about this last year, but fix that slow gas leak, would you? If you want to get haunted by carbon monoxide demons, that's your business, but I owe a tokoloshe money."

Stan blinked. "The slow what?"

Ignoring them, Bill went on, "You're gonna have to do something about all this." He waved his baby spoon at the fridge and cabinet doors. "You don't want me to come ask for help every single time I need to eat."

"Actually, that might be preferable," Ford said. "It would ensure you can't tamper with our food when we aren't looking."

"You'll get sick of it," Bill said confidently.

He finally freed up a spoonful of enchilada, stuffed it in his mouth, and tore off a chunk of chicken with his teeth—and then stopped, staring down at the plate in amazement. With his mouth still full, Bill said, "Oh wow, this is delicious! You know, I haven't had a home cooked meal in centuries! And that nutty aftertaste? Mm! You're a daring chef, lady. I love it."

He spat his mouthful back onto the plate. "But unfortunately, I think I'm allergic to one of your ingredients!" He held the plate out to Abuelita, grinning widely. "Would you mind giving me a portion with less cyanide?"

Everyone stared at Abuelita.

She shrugged placidly. "It was worth a try." She took back the plate.

Bill licked the last of the poisoned food off his teeth and spat it on the kitchen floor. "Mil gracias, señorita Silloncito."

She gave the floor a displeased look as she passed to wash off the dish in the sink, but merely said, "Un placer." She gave Bill another dirty look as he shoved in front of her to wash his hands in the sink before she could get started on the plate.

Dubiously, Ford murmured, "Silloncito isn't Mrs. Ramirez's first name, is it?"

"Nope." Stan grinned. "While you were busy studying the Odyssey, I was in South America learning Spanish—you know, a language people actually speak."

"What does 'silloncito' mean?"

"I dunno."

Soos had been gaping at his grandmother since Bill said the word "cyanide." He finally managed to work his jaw enough to say, "Abuelita, what...?"

"Do not worry about it, mijo," Abuelita said sweetly, pulling out a mop.

"Did you just try to...?"

"We can talk later." Abuelita gestured to the door, where Bill was meandering out of the kitchen. "I'll clean now. You go with the others."

As Bill left, he called back, "Next time, I'm making my own plate! Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice..." He swept past the humans into the living room. "Hey, you finally got enough seating in here! This place is really starting to shed that 'lonely old bachelor' stench—ey, Stanley?"

"Watch it."

Where Stan's old recliner once sat, Abuelita had put her sofa with the pastel yellow floral print. Her blue armchair and Stan's recliner were lined up at a right angle to the sofa to form a seating area around the TV, which had been turned to face all the seats. Atop the decorative T-Rex skull sat a small vase with a few fresh flowers.

Soos dragged his distracted gaze away from the kitchen to point at the floral sofa. "You, uh... you can sleep on the sofa bed. It folds out. We're kind of out of other rooms. I'm in the master bedroom, Abuelita's in the study cuz she gets her own bathroom there and doesn't have to use the stairs, we made the parlor a guest room for the Pineses, the kids are in the attic... and that's pretty much all the bedrooms we've got, dude." Soos shrugged. "Me and Melody, we were talking about walling off the empty attic area to make a sick gaming room? I guess maybe we should think about making it another guest room instead—"

"Which Bill wouldn't be able to use," Ford said, "if it has a door. Besides, I doubt Bill will be here long enough for you to finish any large construction projects."

Airily, Bill said, "Think you'll figure out how to get rid of me that fast?" He didn't even look at Ford; he was busy taking off the sofa's cushions to inspect the foldout bed underneath. "Last time you tried it took you thirty years, and you're 0 for 4 murder attempts so far." Bill tried, unsuccessfully, to lift the folding bed out of the sofa. "Not—counting—all the times—" he grunted with exertion, "—you failed to burn my book."

Voice icy, Ford went on without acknowledging Bill. "And at any rate, I'd rather have him out in the open where we can all keep an eye on him."

Soos glanced back and forth between Ford and Bill as they shot verbal barbs at each other, his fingertips pressed together. "Oookay! So. Sofa bed it is. I like sofa beds! It feels kind of like camping, but without going outside."

"Bet I'm not allowed to start a campfire in the living room." Bill gave up on the sofa bed and looked around the room—and his face lit up like a child who'd just received a pirate ship-shaped birthday cake. "Hey! Is that me?" In his rush to cross the living room, he tripped over Abuelita's blue armchair, flopped flat on the floor, and got back up like nothing happened.

Where Ford had once hung his father's banner from the Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel, Soos had put up a new decoration: a knit tapestry depicting Bill Cipher, framed in apocalyptic lightning and hovering over a sea of fire...

... and encircled by the Ten Cosmic Symbols of the zodiac prophesied to witness his defeat.

Bill's smile dimmed. "Ah."

"Oh, hey! That's the blanket Mabel made me." Soos stood next to Bill, admiring the zodiac blanket. "Yeah, she made us all blankets to commemorate our epic battle and everything? She called us up to ask how we wanted them customized and stuff. I suggested the flames and the lightning bolts! Thought they'd look rad. Heh. It's—it's pretty cool, right?"

Bill's gaze slowly traced the confining ring of symbols; and then met the gaze of his own, true, proper face. And he turned away to face Soos and forced his smile wider. "Question Mark, I like your sense of decor." 

"Ha—wait, seriously?"

"Heck, if I'd commissioned a portrait myself, I'd have requested the same! Remind me to show you some tapestries the Northwests have been keeping of me, I think you'd appreciate them!"

"Oh." Soos rubbed the back of his neck. "Huh. You know, I didn't think you'd think cool things are cool. Kinda."

"You kidding?! Fire and lightning! I love it! Like a party with natural pyrotechnics! It's nature's way of trying to unleash a bit of anarchy on an otherwise disappointing little world!"

"Uh..." Soos quickly glanced toward the Pines in a silent plea for help with this conversation, then looked back at Bill. "Yeah, totally dude! It's like... got that boom factor, you know?"

"Boom factor! Ha! You're all right, Questiony." Bill turned his back on the zodiac and swept across the room again. "So! What have you done with the rest of this dump!"

Soos stood rooted to the spot until Bill left the room.

He looked at Stan and Ford. "Do you think Bill, like... knows my name?"

Ford shrugged and made a so-so gesture.

Soos nodded. "Okay." He pulled out a chair at the living room table. "You guys wanna go ahead without me? I think I'm gonna... sit here. And process the fact that Abuelita is an attempted murderer."

As they followed Bill, Stan lowered his voice and asked Ford, "So, uh—what was with that thing about Bill telling you not to call him something?"

"Oh." Ford grimaced. "When we first met, and Bill had me convinced he was some muse of knowledge," (Stan snorted) "I asked if it was alright to just call him Bill. It... seemed too informal for a god." (Stan snorted again.) "Stop that." Ford spoke with great displeasure, as though he were repeating a particularly distasteful joke: "He said I could call him anything but don't call him late for dinner."

"Ah." And that was all they had time to say before they caught up with Bill, Ford had to rebury his memories of the years he'd thought Bill was his friend, and Stan had to force himself to stop wondering about them. It seemed inappropriate to think about Bill making friendly jokes.

####

On Bill's first proper night in the Mystery Shack, he woke in the middle of the night, gasping for air so loudly it sounded like a reverse scream.

Waking didn't improve things.

He was back in the room where he'd died, no light but the eerie blue of invisible flames licking up the walls, his vision framed by golden filaments spilling out of his head. He rolled over and heaved on the floor—and between his stomach's convulsions he made direct eye contact with an axolotl, cold, serene, staring dispassionately at him from an illuminated fish tank—and past the axolotl, he saw an image of himself trapped flat on the wall, surrounded by a ring of his enemies, fire lapping at his heels. And it was just like dying again, he was powerless, he could see his body coming apart in his peripheral vision, he couldn't even float, pinned to the ground by gravity—

He had to claw at his skin until this human body's uncomfortable alienness overrode the memory of his gold exoskeleton shattering.

His rebirthmark burned.

The next morning, the household found no signs of Bill in the living room except for a puddle of dried puke.

The sofa bed's mattress had been dragged halfway up the stairs, and then abandoned at the landing where the stairs turned a right angle.

They found Bill in the attic, laying on the floor atop a makeshift bed he'd assembled out of sofa cushions. He was curled up facing the wall beneath the seating alcove where, just a few months ago, there had been a window of his face.

####

(I hope y'all enjoyed!! I'd love to hear your thoughts. If you read the original and are back now to read the edited & updated version, I'd particularly love to hear your thoughts—even setting aside the TBOB edits, I think this new version of Bill's first moments alive is much stronger.

Plus he gets to kill a dude. Good for him.)

[celticbarb]

Book: Never Marry a Highlander

Author: Callie Hutton

Series: The Mackays of Dun Ugadale, Book #2

Length: 194 Pages

Overall Rating: 5/5 Stars

Blog Rating: 5/5 Saltire Flags

Scottish Highlands, 1661

Craig Mackay offers to take his brother’s place in a clan alliance so Laird Robin Mackay could marry Helena Ross, the woman he loves. Craig felt this marriage would not alter his life in any shape or form. However he was in for a rude awakening and most married men would laugh at his non realistic attitude!

Lady Lenora is a widow and has just come from one abusive marriage and had refused this Mackay marriage. However her brother, Laird David Gunn, threatens her with another abusive marriage to a known woman beater whose two previous wives had died under very suspicious circumstances.

The only reason his elder brother Robin had accepted this forced alliance is because Lenora threatened to commit suicide, because if she did not make this marriage happen her brother would force her tp marry another monster! So Laird Robin Mackay felt like he was between a rock and a hard place and has no choice as he did want to be the cause of the lass killing herself. That is until his brother Craig makes this most generous offer to marry Lenora in his place.

Lenora has no trust of men which includes her Laird David Gunn who also beats her. She is also a bit insulted and feels she is a second choice and like the leftover food that noone wants to eat. It was not like she was in love with Robin she just felt very unwanted and undesirable and knew Craig was only trying to help his brother. Her feelings were just hurt plus she was going to have to live with the woman who took her place. So She is in a very difficult situation and wonders if the clan Mackay will ever accept her and what her duties will be.

Lenora can see Craig is a braw handsome warrior who is protective, tender, caring, and honorable and the women are attracted to him. She starts to fear she might fall in love with him and have her heartbroken so she puts up walls. If he says black she will say white and argues over every little thing. What she does not realize is that Craig feels her wee argument qwerks are absolutely adorable and understands her no trust of men. He just hopes she will see he is different than most men and wonders if she will ever trust him?

Craig and Lenora are two people who never wanted to be married. It shows all the lochs they have to swim and mountains they must climb to open their cold hearts and trust each other and discover love. Find out of this even a possibility?

Callie Hutton is one of my go-to-authors that I absolutely adore! She pens another riveting, action packed, page turning, romantic adventure that historical readers will absolutely love. Her Scottish historical books always sweep me away and are always so much fun to read! Craig is definitely my new book boyfriend. I highly recommend this book and Robin’s book too in Never Fall For a Highlander. Both are phenomenal reads that are definitely brilliant!

Disclaimer: I received this advance review copy for free and I am leaving this review voluntarily.

[thespineoftherighteous]

I'd love to hear your thoughts on the upper classmen being a mirror to each monster? That's not an idea I've seen before and I am Intrigued.

oooh anon this is such a scrumptious delicious concept thanks for asking. but also I definitely wasn't the first one to come up with this..there was a post I saw last year? the year before? that broke the parallels down really well. I'll try to find it

anyway so I think the basis of it is that each of the upperclassmen mirror one of the monsters in regards to the main issues they struggle with. more than that though they represent what it's like to find a way to live through those problems, that overcoming them can be done, because they're more developed, more matured than the monsters. and, because by the end of the series all the monsters have grown a lot from where they were at the beginning, you can see them at a point (or getting to a point) in life not unlike where their respective upperclassman is.

there's Matt and Aaron: both of them struggled hugely with drug addiction (influenced by their parents), both of them were at a point where shit could've gone downhill fast and both of them were forced out of it by the same person. although Matt technically got clean after Aaron, he seemed to get mentally healthier much faster (which makes sense given the difference in relationships, support, goals, etc of their situations). Matt immediately sees it as a chance given to him to start over; Aaron, perhaps because he still had something as equally consuming as drugs- Andrew and his deals- doesn't seem to evolve in that way until close to the end of the series. you can also see how they resemble each other in how they don't respond to provoking shit as much as the rest of the team (they're like the chill ones of their respective groups, with different vibes) but they will rise to violence if someone they care about is threatened.

Allison and Nicky are an easy one to see, I think. both of them had families who wanted them to be a certain way, who would rather kick them out than accept them as they were. the difference between them is that Allison has accepted it with a "fuck them" attitude while Nicky (as far as mid-trk) still reaches out, still wants to have a relationship with them. he still desperately craves that love and acceptance so much that he almost voluntarily keeps getting hurt, in a way that Allison has already decided isn't worth it.

there's Renee and Andrew: both deadly protective, these are the goalies, the protectors, the ones watching everyone's backs; both had unfathomably awful childhoods and both cover up/protect themselves from said childhoods in particular ways. Renee is on relatively good terms with the universe while Andrew, as in control as he makes himself out to be, is searching for something he thinks he could never have..for purpose, and for the nothing that he finds in Neil. with these two, it's never that Andrew's boundaries and distrust of others are things he needs to grow out of but that Renee represents a different response- she becomes the kindness she was never shown, he holds a knife to anything that could hurt him again.

Dan and Kevin: they're the ones that could've done everything right but still would've had circumstances work against them. they might be good but, according to others, they're not good enough, always dismissed, always overshadowed. the stark difference between them is that Kevin believes in the 2 on his face (until he doesn't) and Dan never does. the doubt bounces off Dan while Kevin absorbs it like sponge until someone like Andrew wrings it out of him. Kevin puts his full weight on his support (until he doesn't); Dan's never had that support to begin with so she only knows how to live without it. Dan knows her worth and will project it in bright orange writing, Kevin was taught his worth in finite numbers, so long as his feet stay on the court, and he's never certain of it (until he is). the glorious thing about this, though, is that you can literally see on page when Kevin overcomes this. it takes every fucking ounce of his strength but he gets the tattoo. he walks out with his stick in his left hand. he beats Riko, in ever way. it's magnificent. (I digress)

and then there's Seth and Neil. I think they could be interchangeable with Dan and Kevin actually but I like this one better. I don't think they necessarily mirror each other as cleanly as the others and I don't want to force it for sake of having everyone neatly paired off. but shit... they're the end and the beginning, respectively. Neil is the first success story, the embodiment of what Wymack's team stands for, Seth is an example of why that's what it stands for. Neil has no life, Seth has no use for his. Seth falls victim to the fate Neil spent years of his life running away from.

all that being said. it's not to say that the upperclassmen have completely healed from their pasts and don't have plenty issues of their own. I think anyone can see that *all* of the foxes have room to grow. it's just that they're a lot more developed in where they're at in life. and I think the monsters are not all at the same place in their healing because that's not something that's linear and it's not always as easily seen as a tattoo on the face. I think Kevin and Neil, for example, are at a more adjusted place by the end of tkm (Neil more so) but you can see all of them heading in better directions.

it's also not to say that to Heal™ the monsters have to be exactly where the upperclassmen are. that's also not how it works. but it is working. and (hot take? maybe?) I think that's something Nora does well. she lets them grow. their growth isn't always on page or in the definitive shape of a queen tattoo or finished by the end of the series but it is certainly there.

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Ruined Miss Fortune vs Ruined King Miss Fortune

Ruined Miss Fortune is, to me, a deep disappointment of a skin, for multiple reasons.

The first is the method of her Ruination. Basically: Gangplank isn't dead and Fortune is super duper way the hell extra special scared of him, and so she voluntarily gets Ruined by Viego because he'll give her the power to definitely for sure kill Gangplank this time!

It sucks. The entire scene sucks. The way her characterization is played sucks. She is fully written as a Hysterical Woman™ who is too emotional to see reason and who gets corrupted because she can't handle her anger and fear, and the f***ing visual imagery of Miss Fortune willingly submitting to Viego by asking him to penetrate her with his eight foot Overcompensator Sword is just... good grief, the semiotics of that entire thing are just bafflingly bad.

The second is that if she had to get Ruined there was a much, much more compelling way to do it that would actually relate meaningfully to the core themes of the entire Ruination event.

Viego is driven fundamentally by a tragic loss, and total inability to cope with the grief of death. He lost Isolde and, being the spoiled little hyperromantic princeling that he is, absolutely could not accept that something he loved could be "taken away from him."

Miss Fortune is driven fundamentally by a tragic loss, and total inability to cope with the grief of death. In her case, it is the brutal murder of her mother by Gangplank, and the complicated mess of survivor's guilt and vengeful hatred that has left her unable to ever put her mother's memory to rest.

So... what if we had built some kind of thematic connection between the two characters, a shared form of loss, the connection of which is exploited by the abusive, manipulative monster to further his own goals? What if Viego had said to Fortune "I will bring back to life she who you love the most?" with the absolute insane certainty and sincerity with which he believes he will bring back Isolde?

And rather than MF being the dumbass who gets taken in by an obviously lying man's obviously false offer of power because she's just so scared of Big Bad Gangplank, she gets taken in by a moment of connection and a glimmer of hope, however vain, that the literal worst thing that ever happened to her can undone?

I dunno, given that the entire Ruined King event was thematically about learning to cope with grief, to let go of those who are dead and to stop making other people's lives and deaths about yourself, that seems to me like it would have been cool, actually.

Anyway the third reason is that the skin itself is basically a bland-as-hell "EVIL = SEXY!!!" fanservice skin, which first of all is extremely tame and boring as fanservice (srsly, cleavage and a bit of thigh action? That's the best you can do for a sexy evil pirate queen?), but which also simply does not fit the character story being told here.

Miss Fortune falls for power, she falls for the strength to destroy her enemies, she falls for the power to rule and control. The Ruined Skin looks no more dangerous, powerful or domineering than her Captain Fortune skin, it's just a sexy pirate halloween costume with all the colors turned off.

Now, in the spirit of fairness, there are some production reasons for this. It was not a Legendary skin and Riot puts a hard budget limit on how many actual changes you can make to a design at lower skin levels. So no changing her animation, for example, and only limited changes to her model itself and no changes to its rigging. There was probably a corporate and technical mandate not to stray too far from her base form.

On top of that there is in-game readability. Silhouettes are important for character recognition, and Riot are... usually quite careful about broadly preserving them skin to skin to avoid gameplay confusion. Usually.

So yeah, there's some limits on how much you can do, but if you want an example of what I would consider a good "Ruined" version of Miss Fortune, Riot Forge and the people over at Airship Syndicate helpfully went and made one:

Good feature number one: The Crown. The corruption of Miss Fortune as it is told in the Ruination is that she lets her paranoid lust for power blind her and this allows Viego to take over her mind.

So what do we have here? A crown literally blinding her, mimicking the shape language of Viego's crown, indicating his deception of her and his domination over her mind. That's some good visual storytelling.

It is also Sauron-esque as hell, so it reinforces Miss Fortune as an imperious, domineering, regal presence. Queen, sovereign, it is the visual language of power.

Good feature number two: the chains incorporated into her design, which are just about the most widely used visual shorthand for enslavement and control. Riot L4T3NCY, creative lead at Riot Forge, confirmed for me that this and the blindfolding of MF were both extremely conscious choices in her skin design here:

Good feature number three: Miss Fortune's own pirate aesthetic is entirely supplanted by Viego's Camavoran army aesthetics. There is no hint of the Bilgewater fashion left here, everything that was Bilgwater about her has been torn away, which again is good, solid, basic storytelling showing us that she is mind-controlled and subverted.

Good feature number four: I am definitely reaching here, but I quite like that the hands that grasp her guns are the most wraith-like and corrupted. It is Miss Fortune's grasp for power that is corrupting her, and it is the trauma of the loss of her mother, a gunsmith who is intimately connected to her weapons, which is ultimately the source of the paranoia and power lust that has destroyed her. Is this intentional at all? I have no idea, but I like the idea.

Good feature number five: It is still sexy. Not in as blatantly pin up-ish a way as the base game Ruined Miss Fortune is, but there's some solid Hot Mean Evil Lady appeal in that cleavage and armored bustier. MF has always been a flirty, sexy character (albeit definitely too much so in the past *shudders in League Judgment*), and that aspect is still present here, without being distracting from the character storytelling of the skin.

I think Miss Fortune being ruined by Kevin McKilledbyhiswife of Camavor is a bad idea on the whole, I think it gets catastrophically in the way of her much more interesting base story of slowly being corrupted by the structural violence and brutality of Bilgewater itself, reducing it all down to a "Sad Woman Very Angry About Dead Mom" personal grief narrative (which is honestly a little too eager to paint her desire to see justice done to Gangplank for his crimes as a bad thing.)

But if she has to be Ruined, at least do it with some gosh darn character storytelling as part of the skin. If she has to be Ruined, at least do it in a way that thematically reflects on and interacts with the general themes of the Ruination event as a whole.

Don't do it just for a D-tier generic hot lady fanservice skin.

[eularin]

lol yees

The Shinigami really wants to expel Obito from the pure lands, but he can't lol despite his vast power the Shinigami can't break the laws of the universe and try to accelerate the wheel of Samsara for Obito. (I have a feeling he wouldn't accept going and abandoning Kakashi)

Besides, Obito has a lot of unfinished business to attend to, so the Wheel of Samsara won't be turning for him anytime soon. (Rin is almost done with her unfinished business, she just needs to talk to Kakashi. She'll be able to be reborn soon, but she doesn't want to leave Obito alone.)

Also: Obito has to hide in Kamui often bc many souls in the pure lands want to fight him (fight, mind you, they can only fight because they can't murder someone who is already dead. Everyone there is already dead lol)

Imagine the Uchiha clan meeting in the pure lands – fighting. Lots of fighting. Itachi had barely arrived and was already greeted with Taijutsu fights (you would think that in the pure lands there are no hard feelings, no hatred, no pain. But these are Uchiha. They are half demigods, that's canon! Look at their ancestors! Kaguya, Juubi, Hagoromo, alien relatives, etc. This clan is on a whole different level)

Also, imagine Deidara finding out that Tobi is a shitty Uchiha. (Oh he'll scream. He can't blow anything up, unfortunately, but he'll definitely fight)

The Shinigami doesn't want to be the God of Death and deal with the dead anymore. Unfortunately he can't change professions. I'm sure the Shinigami tolerates Obito stealing Rin's soul to see Kakashi, but taking other souls occasionally? No. Not that. That's FORBIDDEN but Obito doesn't care. He does what he wants.

The Shinigami doesn't understand why this Uchiha soul is so hard to control – in fact he knows, but doesn't want to acknowledge that Obito has somehow ascended to a form of godhood. The Shinigami doesn't want to think about how he might never be able to get rid of Obito.

(Just so you know, Obito is the new God of Chaos! A true Trickster god! Much to everyone's horror)

Now imagine Obito vs. Madara meeting in the pure lands = fight. Definitely and immediately. Obito is pissed and will take it out on Madara. He will scream "damn old liar, you fooled me! You said the Eye of the Moon Plan would bring peace to the world, but instead we almost annihilated everything!"

In the end, the Shinigami will have to separate them.

Bonus 1: it would be even more hilarious if the Uchiha Clan could use/access some of their power in the pure lands, bc you know, they are half demigods and aliens with diluted blood.

(and Nagato, let's give him a privilege pass because Madara gave him his eyes voluntarily. Danzou is not included. He's a thief) - imagine the Chaos! The Shinigami is mad.

Bonus 2: Madara, Obito, and Indra are the only Uchiha who can use their powers to their full potential bc they have attained the powers of a semi-god.

(Haven't you ever wondered why the hell Indra keeps getting reborn? Is it bc the Shinigami can't control him either? Questions to ponder later.)

Deidara would be disgusted by all this blatant Uchiha privilege. The world isn't fair even in the afterlife. He'll be cursing the Sage.

Now it's Kakashi's turn!

Kakashi won't think he's crazy, he knows that Obito can break the laws of life and death. Remember that he and Obito made that beautiful Susanoo together? 👺

Kakashi is happy to have Obito visiting him every night and sometimes bringing Rin along. Obito is the biggest gossip in the pure lands, imagine all the things he tells Kakashi about his mischief, about Madara, Itachi, Izuna, the Akatsuki.

Kakashi loves these moments, but there's one thing he doesn't like: hearing Obito talk about Deidara.

Kakashi knows it's irrational to be jealous of two dead men, but hey, he can't help it. The time he spends with Obito is too short to be spent listening to how Obito purposely annoys Deidara to the point of madness.

I imagine Kakashi will take a while to die. Obito will certainly intervene and stretch Kakashi's lifespan with some power he has, just because he can and he can certainly lend it to Kakashi.

Kakashi will be a hundred years old and will say: that's enough Obito. I've lived too long. I don't want to be like Madara. Don't do this to me, please.

So Kakashi dies and Obito is there to welcome him with a party, and lots of people and Kakashi pulls him in for a kiss.

They live happily ever after (they are soulmates 🤧💕) and Obito is a very OP bamf they will probably be reborn and be destined as soulmates forever

I love rambling about my favorite shippers. I lose control 😅🤯

The most important thing to remember while writing Obito is that he is a freak. You are legally obligated to have him say, think or do something that will make the reader go "hey obito what the fuck" every other paragraph. He is not allowed to be normal.

That goes double for any time he is anywhere near Kakashi, who is also a freak but in a different way, and who only makes Obito more insane