#but I’ve had these thoughts for so long that I just kind of needed to get them out

[vxlentinescookies]

Ajax listen,,,,listen to me Ajax-

Self Aware AU, where the cookies come to the player's/reader's world. Pick whichever characters you wanna include, I just need to see this 🙏

→ ❛Part of your world❜

→ Characters ; Longan Dragon Cookie, Burning Spice Cookie, Shadow Milk Cookie, Timekeeper Cookie & Millennial Tree Cookie → Quote ; ❛❛If someone came to you and told you “One day you’ll have those who you love the most in the palm of your hand”, well… you never thought that’d become true, nor that it’d be a metaphor…❜❜ → Genre ; Headcanons/Drabble → A/N ; This took me a whole ass night to make and 2500+ words to finish, I hope you like it /lh

Longan Dragon Cookie

“How quaint… to believe someone like you lives in such a… small place”

Having Longan Dragon in your home was… curious to say the least. Not something you expected, yet here you were, with a dragon looking at you as they squatted in your bedroom.

Longan would be hypercritical of the place you lived, noting things like “This looks cheap” or “Its far too small”

Despite that, Longan would be quite intrigued in your life, wanting to see how you worked or what you did, they’d follow you around when not sitting in your living room and meditating.

Nevertheless, they’re there for a reason, they’re with you for a reason, and they’ll make that reason known very, very soon.

It’d take Longan a few months, but eventually, they would come to sit by your side at the table, not sitting down on a chair but instead, sitting down by your side quite literally. They’d stare at you for long moments before finally leaning their head on your shoulder, the weight catching you off guard as you looked at them. 

“... I’ll make sure you live like you deserve one of these days” They’d say, and in that moment, you understood why there had been so many disappearances of delinquents and robbers nearby…

If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…

One of the few favorite activities of Longan was to read, so much so, that you had to request books from the library more often than not, but with the way Longan was reading them… It had just been a few months, and yet this dragon had consumed almost all of your local library’s books.  So, when they finished reading most of your books, they’d chose to write them. And they’d write about what they saw, about everything they had seen around them, everything they had seen in this new world, and in some sense, it was intriguing to see how a dragon explored the new world they were in, the little things that werent intriguing to you were greatly important to them, in a way that got you even more intrigued by how they saw you.

“... You want to know how I see you?” They’d ask.

You knew fully well that you shouldnt expect much, after all, this was Longan Dragon we were talking about, they werent a kind dragon, they saw cookies as lesser beings, and humans now by extensions, but as you asked them that question, they’d only smile and pat your head softly.

“You’re the reason Im here… Of course I would think highly of you”

A genuine smile, it made your heart flutter as they spoke, a hand going to cup your chin in it.

“You’re interesting, perhaps, one of the most interesting things I’ve seen in this world.”

Besides writing, they’d follow you around and take note of everything you’d do… And by night, they’d curl by your side, taking most of the bed as they allow you to take rest in their chest, as they allow you to take rest in their breaths while their hands thread on your hair.

Burning Spice Cookie

“How intriguing…! Never would I have expected your home to be so… so… erm…”

Another one who seems to heavily judge your house, but also, another one who appears in your home kneeling because it is so small compared to him.

Either way, he gets eased into the ambient quite easily, his search for entertainment leading him to see through everything and all the world has to offer.

Until he… gets bored, again, because your world isnt as different from his (and in some sense, it is… actually… more boring than his old world…)

So, he moves to the next thing closest to him for entertainment!

“Little one, come here” 

He’d call forward to you once, looking at you with dark yet fiery eyes and an everlasting smile, though you knew this once it hid something, after all, despite him coming to your world for x or y reason, it involved you, it always involved you…

“Entertain me” Would be his words once you approached him, his smile becoming only more cryptic as you lifted an eyebrow at his voice. Entertain, him? In what sense or way would you be able to entertain someone akin to a god? 

Seeming to sense your doubt, Burning Spice would only come and hold you from your shirt, lifting you up before staring at you and then…

“Hahahah, you should’ve looked at your face, you really are an interesting one!”

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

Besides seeking something for entertainment, Burning spice is in some sense able to somewhat pass through the crowd, and by that I mean he can somewhat pass as just a very tall human. Nonetheless, between choosing to hit the gym and sending you pictures, he’ll also follow you around, finding even the most monotonous tasks fairly entertaining if it has you in it. Its a weird combo, being outside with a dude in a hoodie and sweat pants following you around while doing groceries, or being in the metro and getting a fairly nice picture of him flexing for you. Burning spice is a menace…

“Aye, welcome home! I took care of some pesky people while you were gone… It was fun hearing their screams…”

…in far more ways than one.

Either way, you two also share a bed, its not like you have a choice with how clingy he can become when sleeping, pulling you in his arms in a heated hug (in the sense that he literally irradiates heat) while snoring loudly, you’ve gotten complaints from neighbors (if you live in an apartment), but somehow… they’ve… they’ve quieted down recently… However, when you ask Burning Spice, he just laughs it off.

Shadow Milk Cookie

“Woowee, what do we have here, sweetheart?”

Not as judgemental of your home, no, for once someone isnt as focused on where you live but…

He is focused on you, looking at you up and down, before hitting his head on the roof of your room, ouch!

He spends most of the days following you around though, using his magic to stay hidden from most people, so much that people may find you crazy for seeing you talk to… nothing!

Either way, much like the others, he’s there for a reason…

“Why Im here?”

You asked Shadow Milk once, after a good few months, what the jester had come to do in your own home. In fact, it perplexed you so much that when you asked him, the feeling seemed to be shared. It was… intriguing to say the least, but he’d only smile before clasping his hands together and saying in a song-esque tune.

“Becuase you’re sooooooooooo interesting, darlin! Just look at you, how could I NOT come here with you?”

Truth to be told, he saw you as who you really were, in some sense he saw you as someone who didnt fall for lies easily, he saw you as someone who saw beyond that and you were… interesting. You were a shot in the dark, and he just had, to have you near.

“You’re so silly, darlin, sososososo silly” He’d add in, patting your head softly as you only smiled and blushed slightly, even while knowing his smile and gaze hid a million of thoughts, and a million of even more ideas.

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

When not reading around in your home, or following you to the library to read some books, he’d be looking over your shoulder, reading every single note, watching every single thing you do, it makes him curious, how someone so quaint has him wrapped around your finger. And yet, he cant help but smile at the idea of being just like that, wrapped around your finger in a sweet loving embrace.

He’d be the most romantic of the bunch, the one that makes it the most prominent that he’s there with you because he likes you, he dosent even hide it fully despite his jester-esque persona, he just cant hide it! So, when you ask him about what he was doing one day in the balcony of your apartment, he’d only turn and smile softly.

“Why, I'm recreating one of your world’s theatre plays!” He’d say, and you make a mental note to go to the theatre more often… “And you’ve come just in time, silly (y/n)! I need someone to play dearest Juliet!”

You add that it is a tragic love story, and he only brushes it off, adding in that “actors are actors, sweetheart, now come in and act!” so you do, and you have a fun time doing a monologue to a bunch of people who stay and watch, before claps fill the air.

And when time comes to bed, he’ll be the first to curl up in your bed, curl like a cat who welcomes you into his arms so sweetly, you feel the scent of milk, lactonic as it is, and for once you feel safe.

Timekeeper Cookie

“Well, look what we have here!”

To find Timekeeper in your home means to have done something either right or wrong. In your case, its right.

They’re very much curious about everything from the things you do on a daily basis to your home and how electronics work.

Still, and much like some others in this list, they become quickly bored about it, choosing to focus on you as main form of entertainment

Still, you can expect certain shenanigans to ensue.

It was late at night when it happened, just as you were playing when a portal opened and dragged you inside of it. You were scared shitless that much is true but, when you saw the person who dragged you in, you simply could sigh in slight annoyance.

“What? Cant I drag my favorite person in for some fun?” They’d say with that ever present smile, Timekeeper chuckling as she smiled widely at you, before noticing… “Oh, right, it is night where you’re from, guess I took you out at the wrong time!”

You huffed and yawned, before sitting up and looking at your phone… Right, it didnt exactly work when in time rifts, but then again that raised the question, why did they bring you here to begin with? As if being presented with the question loud and clear, they’d clear her throat and speak yet again.

“I simply wanted to see you, nothing wrong with that now?” They’d say quite mischievously, picking you up and bringing you into her lap “Go on, lets- Hm?”

You’d fall asleep into her arms as soon as she picked you up, your calm quiet face being shown to her as you were held in her arms. Well, guess fun had to wait.

If you’re wondering what they’d do in your world, then…

Much like the others, they also enjoy reading, however, they focus on reading about engineering and mechanics, more so about the mechanics of your world to see if they’re any different from the ones of her world. To say there isnt much difference is but an understatement, there was a hefty amount of difference counting the technology from the TBD was far more advanced, but, even then, you’d be able to get the timekeeper intrigued by the nature of your world.

“Tell me more about your world, c’mon!” They’d ask one day, floating from a time rift as you cooked dinner. 

Unlike the others Timekeeper wasnt keen on staying in one place, still finding comfort in being inside time rifts most of the time, though they still visited you more often than not, more often than other places. Seeing them you’d ask her what she wanted to know, to which she’d hum before saying.

“Anything, I dont really find it entertaining seeing it myself—Explain your world to me yourself, doll!”

So when night comes after a long day chatting, it is you who clings to her softly, as she watches you sleep cozily by her side. She smiles and pats your head, because as much as she’d prefer to fade into a time rift, she knows she cant let you go so easily, no. Not when you finally showed her happiness.

“Interesting, this place is… quite interesting…”

Seeing someone as tall as Millennial Tree in your home is but a piece of the whole puzzle. You are dumbfounded but in some sense, seeing them kneel to greet you is almost laughable.

He’s big, very tall and a gentle giant overall, and it shows when he holds your hand and tells you that your world is interesting to him.

He’s just as curious as everyone else, looking at everything, looking at everyone, he’s curious about you, curious about your world, yet he knows it’d be dangerous to leave on his own.

So, you take him to the forest, planing on leaving him go but…

“I dont want to leave you alone…”

He’d speak with conviction, looking at you as your eyes widened and your face dropped. Just what you feared would happen. He’d hold your hands together, looking at you with some concern before smiling softly, kissing both of your palms.

“I came here for a reason, that much I know, and I know that reason is within you… Allow me to stay by your side, and I’ll do everything in my power to make it worth it.”

You have no power in you to say no, to turn down his offer after his gentle and sweet words, that day you realized that perhaps he did come to your world for a reason, a world so clad in evil and pain…

If you’re wondering what he’d do in your world, then…

When not travelling nor reading, he’s at home with you, cooking or revisiting each place he has gone to to help. He’s become… a sort of Messiah, you cant help it, become public enemy no.1 to some, and a savior to others, it truly depended on who you were asking. Your gaze would follow his as he trailed on a book you both were reading before he’d lean and kiss your forehead, things were… easy, happy with him there… You felt much happier.

“Is something the matter, sapling?” He’d ask, his gentleness carrying over to his voice as he hummed at your words saying it was nothing, but he knew better, still, he wouldnt push. “Are you perhaps tired?”

You pouted slightly before nodding, yes, you were quite tired, but you didnt want to admit to it. Still, he’d nod before moving the book to the side and lifting you into his arms. He’d carry you to your shared bedroom, careful on his way there before setting you on the bed with him, cozily, softly, carrying you to him as he pressed his lips on your forehead and your body to his.

“Sleep well, sunshine” He’d say, brushing hairs off your face before speaking again “Thank you for accepting me into your world…”

Honestly, how could you not at this point? With that thought in your head… You fell asleep.

[gothamrain]

THAT’S NOT A PART OF YOUR ASSIGNMENT

Dick Grayson x art student!reader || 1.6k words

Warnings: smut, naked cuddling, blow job, slight exhibitionism but not quite

Summary: You have an assignment for figure drawing and thankfully have a willing model (along with yourself). Time to take some reference photos. Unfortunately for one horny boy, this means he can’t move. lol poor guy.

a/n: goddd i’m a senior so i’ve spent a bajillion hours in figure by now oof. so here, let me indulge my fantasies. need me a muse like Dick Grayson… well, maybe it’s for the best, since this fic shows how i wouldnt be getting anything done with him around agdjhsajhfk

“Hey, Dickie, can you come in here for a second?” you called and instantly you heard the sock feet of your fiancé come padding towards you.

“Do you need me for something, Baby?”

You were too distracted with the task at hand to pick up on his flirting, “Yeah, just come lay on the bed for a bit.”

“Oooh. Of course~” Dick grinned as he eyed the camera you were adjusting on its tripod before he flopped down onto the bed, “any particular pose?”

“Nah I’m just fixing it right now, you can do whatever as long as you stay on the bed,”

You had meant, like, maybe he could scroll on his phone while you worked. But he took that as ‘whatever sexy pose you want, Babe’ and began showing off his lithe body. Little distracting, but you were used to him enough to successfully ignore it. But damn, was it hard. Especially when he turned around so you could get a nice view of his ass.

“So, we shooting sex tapes or what?”

You rolled your eyes, “No, we’re not shooting sex tapes. I need references for a piece for Figure. We’re supposed to be focusing on the ways the human body will fit together, so we need at least two models,”

“Sound’s intimate,” he schmoozed.

You sighed, “Yeah, that’s why I thought I should just draw us. I like the intimacy of the way we fit together—“

“So we are making sex tapes,”

“No. We are going to just be cuddling, I'm not going up in front of my class to present an explicit piece of us fucking, thank you.”

“But we are going to be naked?”

You sighed even more dramatically this time, “Yes, Dick, we are going to be naked. I have to ‘show off the beauty of the human form’…”

He raised his eyebrows at you suggestively, you shook your head, “and I'll admit, I wanted it to be a little sensual, okay, but it's not like that,"

You went back to fiddling with the camera, ignoring his childish snickering. You positioned it perfectly, able to capture Dick's full body but not too much background with it. Hopefully cramming yourself in there too wont crop anything weird.

Humming to yourself, you grabbed the tiny remote for the tripod and tested it to make sure it was working. Doing so, you accidentally got a shot of Dick taking off his shirt. The way his stomach and chest were flexed as he lifted the shirt over his head was beautiful. Just what you wanted, art. You didn’t delete this test shot like you would’ve done on any other day. Don’t tell Dick.

“Little eager there, Babe?” you flirted.

He had already moved on to stripping off his sweatpants. As he threw the garment across the room you noticed he uh, had a little problem growing. Ah..

“The faster we get these pictures the faster I can convince you to “take a nap” before patrol tonight,” he slipped his boxers off as he talked to you.

“Uh. Yeah. Um,” you started unbuttoning your shirt, “Let’s get this done, yeah…”

Great, now you’re flustered. You’d think you’d learn your lesson by now, to not use your own boyfriend as a model. But he was so pretty, it was always so tempting. If you had your way, all you’d ever draw were portraits of Dick. If you did that, though, you’d quickly get known as “that kid who only draws local celebrity Dick Grayson” around your university, which would most likely get shortened to just “Dick Kid”, and you did not need that kind of bullying in your life right now. You’re a professional studio artist now, goddamnit.

You heard the springs of the bed as Dick laid back down, “So what were you thinking?”

“…” man what were you thinking again? Oh, “I wanted to start with a shot of us spooning. You know, how the legs fit together, how a face fits into the crook of a neck,”

He smiled, “Do I get to be the big spoon?”

“I guess,” you teased.

You took off your own pants and underwear and gave your hair a good finger comb through before laying down on the bed with Dick. He smirked as you cozied up to him. He placed his hand on your hip as he repositioned himself.

“So you want my leg like—”

“Uh huh,” you felt the heat of his bare body melting into yours. And his errection nestling into your ass. Geez…

“And my face—“

He nuzzled into the side of your neck, brushing against the sensitive artery there. Hoo boy, perhaps this is a bad idea. Dick hummed against your throat as he began peppering the area with light kisses.

Mmm, perhaps it’s a really good idea.

“Dick, pose,”

He stopped his onslaught on your neck for a moment, keeping still as you pressed the button on the remote to take a few shots.

“Thank you,” you shuffled over to check the photos, much to Dick’s disappointment at you leaving his embrace, “these are good, next pose,”

“What now,”

You adjusted the angle on the camera, “okay now sit up, on your knees,”

He did as you told him and you crawled back over.

“Uh, sorry, I promise I’m trying to keep professional thoughts right now,” he gestured to his now very prominent boner.

“That’s fine, Baby,” you snickered as you started straddling him, “they’re not gonna be able to see it. This one’s about how legs perfectly bracket a waist,”

“Hands?”

“On my chest, with your fingers in between the ribs,”

Dick was a little confused on what you meant there for a moment but he found it. You were right, his fingers did perfectly slot in between the bones of your ribcage.

Took everything in him to not start running his hands up and down your sides, feeling more of you beneath his fingertips. The gentle way your skin was always soft, no matter where he touched you drove him wild.

And it’s like you knew, the way you grinned and shook your head.

“Here,” you dipped your face towards him and he greedily took the kiss you offered.

It was just a chaste thing, when he tried to deepen it you pulled away. Dick had to fight back the whine in his throat.

“Forehead to mine pleas—“ he gingerly complied, “there we go,”

Dick’s eyelids were pressed tightly shut, but he heard the click of the shutter go off a few times. You then disentangled yourself from him to go check the photos. He missed you immediately, even though you were just right over there.

Damn. This was horrible. Torture. His punishment from the gods like Tantalus’s fruit. He’d rather clean the Batmobile with a toothbrush than have you naked in his lap and not be able to do anything about it.

Okay so maybe he was being a little overdramatic. Can you blame him, though? He can’t just hold his everything in his hands and not make love to them. It feels irreverent.

“Okay, last one”

Thank fucking god. He could feel his cock throbbing and it was starting to get painful.

“Come get close to the camera, this one doesn’t need to be fullbody,”

He crawled closer as you adjusted it once again, “what’s up with this one?”

“How hands were made to cup our curves. I’ll need you to hold my chin in your hands,”

Done. You don’t have to ask him twice. But damn, as you positioned yourself to how you wanted, was it hard to not just start kissing you.

He gazed lovingly at you as he gently played his part, holding you for the camera (and a bunch of students, apparently) to see. He hoped he was doing you justice in this, in all of these. Although, a part of him didn’t want them to be good, didn’t want other people to see how beautiful you could be for him. Your home was his own private little gallery with you as the star and maybe he didn’t want to share.

Gatekeeping art. Tsk…

The shutter clicked and flashed but you didn’t really care anymore. That was the last picture, after all, and Dick was looking at you like he was about to devour you.

And you were right, as he realized he had a greenlight and dove right in.

Dick wasted no time in shoving his tongue into your mouth this time, lapping at your molars. Two can play at that game, so you licked into his mouth as well, only for him to fight dirty running his tongue along the roof of your mouth in flicks. A shiver ran down your spine as Dick pulled your face, still cupped in his hands, further into his. He moaned with the action, and damn, he really was trying to devour you.

He continued his attack on your mouth, sliding his tongue along yours in the most delicious way. You felt the vibrations of another groan as you let your hands start to wander down his body. His trapeze artist tits pecs.. his grabbable hips… his very hard cock weeping precum onto your hand as you fisted it. He pulled out of your mouth with a jolt, panting for air.

“Please—“ he was cut off by a surprisingly high-pitched noise breaking out his throat as you went down, wasting no time in taking him into your mouth.

You took him as far as you could, the head hitting the back of your throat. You pressed your tongue flat into the underside of his cock, slowly dragging it along his tender shaft before pulling off of him again. He made a strangled noise as you looked up at him.

“What?” why’d you stop before you even started?

“Well look,” you placed your tongue back into the divet where his tip met his shaft, “it’s like my tongue was made to be there. Fits together perfectly,”

God, you were going to be the death of him.

[gracie-eilish]

my love🫂

an: here ya goooo sweet pea☺️

it’s a little shortttttt but i hope u still like it :)

The sun had long dipped below the horizon, casting a soft navy hue across the Malibu sky. The ocean outside your window whispered gentle waves against the shore, a lullaby indifferent to the chaos of the day. But inside your cozy home, the quiet was heavy—not peaceful, but dense, like the air before a storm.

You’d sensed it the moment Billie walked through the door. Her usual energy—whether it was playful teasing or tired warmth—was absent, replaced by a hollow stillness. She didn’t greet you with her typical grin or pull you into one of those lazy hugs she loved, where her arms draped over your shoulders and she’d nuzzle her face into your neck. No, today was different.

She kicked off her shoes with more force than necessary, dropped her bag unceremoniously by the door, and mumbled something about needing a minute. You watched her retreat down the hall, your heart tightening with each step she took away from you.

You gave her space for a little while, knowing Billie could be like that—internalizing, trying to sort through her feelings before sharing them. But as the minutes ticked by, the knot in your chest grew. You couldn’t ignore it. Not when the person you loved most was unraveling behind a closed door.

Quietly, you padded down the hall and found her sitting on the floor of your shared bedroom, her back against the side of the bed, knees drawn up to her chest. She wasn’t crying—yet. But her face was tense, her jaw clenched like she was holding the universe inside, refusing to let it spill out. Her fingers fiddled with the sleeve of her hoodie—your hoodie, actually, one she’d stolen weeks ago because it smelled like you.

“Baby,” you whispered gently, kneeling in front of her. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, and that was it. The dam broke.

A sob escaped her lips, sudden and sharp, like it had been clawing to get out all day. She didn’t try to fight it this time. She didn’t apologize or explain. She just crumpled forward, falling into your arms with the weight of everything she’d been carrying.

You caught her without hesitation, wrapping your arms around her tightly, one hand cradling the back of her head as she buried her face into your shoulder. Her body shook with the force of her sobs, raw and unfiltered, like she’d been holding them in for too long.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped between cries, her fingers clutching desperately at your shirt like it was the only thing tethering her to the ground. “I don’t—I don’t know why I’m like this. I’m just—everything feels too much today.”

“Oh, honey,” you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “You don’t have to be sorry. It’s okay. Just let it out. I’ve got you.”

And you did. You held her like you’d never let go, rocking her gently, your cheek resting against her hair. You whispered soft reassurances, the kind of words stitched with warmth and safety.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you. Just breathe with me, okay? You’re safe.”

She clung tighter, her sobs ragged and desperate, pouring out all the frustration she’d tried to bury.

“It was just—everything,” she hiccuped. “I spilled coffee all over myself this morning, then the interview was a mess, and I—I felt like an idiot. And people were just… so mean today. About everything. My music, my face, even the way I talk. I thought I could handle it, but—”

Her voice cracked again, dissolving into more tears.

“Shh, baby, I’m here. None of that matters right now. Just me and you, okay? You’re not an idiot. You’re the smartest, kindest, most talented person I know. And you’re allowed to have bad days.”

She sniffled, her fingers tightening around the fabric of your shirt like she was afraid you might disappear.

“But I should be stronger. I shouldn’t let stupid stuff get to me like this.”

You pulled back just enough to cup her face in your hands, gently brushing away the tears streaking down her cheeks with your thumbs. Her eyes were glassy, red-rimmed, and filled with so much sadness it made your heart ache.

“Billie, listen to me,” you said softly but firmly. “Strong doesn’t mean you never break down. Strong means you’re brave enough to feel it. To let it out. You don’t have to hold it all in just to prove something. Not to me. Not to anyone.”

Her lips trembled, more tears spilling over as she whispered, “I hate feeling like this.”

“I know, baby. I know.” You pulled her back into your arms, her head resting over your heart. “But you’re not alone. I’m right here. I’ll hold you as long as you need. You don’t have to carry it by yourself.”

She melted even further into you, her sobs gradually softening into quiet sniffles. You ran your fingers through her hair, your other hand tracing gentle circles on her back.

After a while, you shifted, guiding her onto the bed. She curled up beside you, her head on your chest, fingers tracing lazy patterns over your heart as if grounding herself in the rhythm. You kept whispering to her, soft and soothing.

“Do you feel a little better?” you murmured, brushing her hair from her face.

She nodded slightly, her voice small. “Yeah… just tired now.”

“That’s okay, baby. Rest. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, her fingers playing with the hem of your shirt now, calmer but still needing that small connection.

“For what?”

“For being my safe place.”

Your heart swelled, a warmth blooming in your chest that no bad day could ever touch. You kissed the top of her head, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world—because to you, she was.

“Always, my love,” you whispered. “Always.”

And as she drifted to sleep in your arms, her face peaceful at last, you realized that love wasn’t just about the good days. It was about being the person someone could fall apart with, knowing you’d help them put the pieces back together.

You were her safe place. And she was yours.

[deathofpeaceofmiiind]

Bad decisions // Quinn Hughes

No god, no religion … just bad, bad decisions

Summary: Quinn gets dragged to his girlfriends favourite bands concert despite it not being his favourite genre, but all it took was one song to change his mind.

Warnings: drinking, swearing, light fluff, pda (18+)

── ∘◦ ⛤ ◦∘ ──

“I can’t believe you’re dragging me to this.”

“Hey, you knew what you were getting yourself into dating me.” I commented as I applied my lipstick, looking back at Quinn in my mirror.

I wasn’t wrong, but I also never expected him to pursue someone like me either. I wouldn’t really consider myself an “alternative” or “goth” girl though. I had black hair, tattoos and listened to heavier music but I preferred wearing aritzia sweat suits, doing Pilates and swapped wing liner out for clean girl make up. Still, I wasn’t the stereotypical girl that most hockey players go for. I remember the first time I met Quinn and how terrified I was to take my sweater off and expose my full sleeve. But much to my surprise, he couldn’t keep his hands off me. Actually, any time I went to get a new tattoo he came with me and held my hand the entire time. It was a kind of intimacy I never thought I would find.


“I know, I’ve just never been to a concert like this. What if I get stuck in the middle of a mosh pit? Also how loud is it gonna be?”

I chuckled, zipping my boots up, “we’ll stay along the side, and yes, bring earplugs.”

“Oh god.” He groaned, throwing his head back on the couch. “You are so lucky I love you.”

“Well…” I trailed off, standing between his legs, leaning over and gripping onto his thighs. “If you’re on your best behaviour, I’ll reward you for it.”

Quinns head popped up as I peaked his interest. “What kind of reward?”


“Whatever you want.” I replied, hovering over his face. His lips ever so slightly brushing against mine, “but you need to be a good boy.”

“I’m about to become the biggest Bad Omens fan you’ve ever seen.”

About an hour later we arrived at the venue, my stomach was filled with butterflies from excitement. I’ve been a huge Bad Omens fan since 2016 and this was my first time seeing them post-covid. Their new album had been out for over a year and I played it so much I think Quinn was getting sick of it, but I would catch him mouthing the lyrics when he thought I wasn’t looking. This man tried to convince me he only listened to rap and country, but I firmly believe he didn’t want to admit he likes my music. I think he was paranoid his brothers or his teammates would tease him for it.

“I think you’d look really hot in that shirt.” 

Quinn and I waited in line at the merch booth before the concert, which was incredibly long. I saw a hoodie on display that I really liked so I wanted to see if they had it in my size. Another shirt caught my attention and I fully envisioned Quinn wearing it with his black Levis, a backwards hat and his white nikes. Just the thought of it made my knees buckle. 

“You think so?” Quinn leaned his head down to take a better look at the shirt in question. His cheek brushed against me, making his cologne hit my nose. It was the perfect mix of sage and cedar. I gently kissed his cheek, a bashful smile appeared on his face before he pressed his lips to my temple.


“Absolutely. I mean, you make everything look good.” I breathed, still reeling from his lips, “but I’d love to see you in that.”


“If you say so.” He smirked as it was our turn. He bought my hoodie for me along with a signed vinyl, and the shirt I told him to get. He sent me the most devilish grin as he tapped his credit card, knowing he just made me incredibly happy.

We made our way towards the stage, it was already pretty packed so I suggested we stood at the back near the sound booth. That way we would be out of the way of any crowd surfers or mosh pits because no one was dumb enough to fuck around expensive sound equipment. The concert was everything I hoped it would’ve been and more. The openers, I see stars and Erra put on incredible sets. Quinn looked like he seen a ghost when Erra came out, considering they were a little heavier than I see stars were, which made him look so adorable. Towards the end of their set, he was more impressed than scared which was a relief. Small smirks kept showing up on his face that he desperately tried to bite back but he couldn’t.

“You surviving?”

“Yeah, thank you for bringing me.” Quinn replied taking a sip of his drink, “I’m actually having a lot of fun.”

“Good, I’m glad.” I mused, “we haven’t even got to the best part yet.”

Before he could say anything, the lights went dark again and Bad Omens slowly made their way to the stage. My heart was rapidly racing in my chest as the boys opened up with Artificial Suicide. I immediately started jumping up and down, screaming the lyrics, completely forgetting about the world around me. Every now and then I would look up at Quinn, who just had the biggest smile on his face watching me enjoy myself.

Halfway through the concert, the band slowed the pace down, which came at the perfect time. My drinks were starting to hit me, making my head feel lighter than normal. The melody for Bad Decisions started and I immediately fell back into Quinn, becoming enamoured with how his breath crept along my neck.

Her skin feels unholy, but I'm still drawn

The morals I'm holding, you know they're gone…

His arms wrapped around my stomach as he slowly swayed us back and forth to the beat, slow and reverberating. His skin felt warm to the touch as his chin rested gently on my shoulder. The low vibrations from the song along with the siren red lighting was stirring something up in me. My hips instinctively rolled into him, feeling overstimulated by every single sensation that took over my body. I knew Quinn wasn’t complaining, considering I felt him twitch through his jeans.

You can be all I got, what's the difference?

Hennessy and a lot of bad decisions

All I know is bad, bad decisions

Quinn brushed my hair away from my shoulder, slowly planting kisses on my exposed shoulder. Each kiss nonchalantly making their way up to my neck, then my jaw, causing goosebumps as his week old stubble grazed my skin. My eyes stayed shut, as his lips dragged all over me. An audible gasp left my mouth as he lightly nipped at my skin, gently sucking, leaving his mark on me.

“Turn around.”

I turned around, his arms found me again and bringing me closer to him. My hands found their home in his hair, enveloping his curls between my fingers. The soft aura of the red lights made his green eyes the perfect muse in this dark room. I was so lost in him that I forget where we were, the crowd completely melted away from us and it was almost as if we were the only ones here. He had that effect on me, he knew how to make me feel like I was his, and only his. His forehead pressed lightly against mine, lips hovering so close I could taste the whiskey on his breath. The gap was finally closed, his mouth enveloping mine as I turned into putty in his hands. Our tongues danced together as the song was getting close to the end, but Quinn didn’t seem to care. He pressed me harder against his body, wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and kissing me with such desperation. He never gave me any chances to come up for air, his lips stayed glued to mine as if my mouth gave him a new breath of life.

Bitter ends to the night, I'm along for the ride

Out of breath, out of time, everything has a price

We broke apart and the smallest smile curved at the side of his mouth as he trailed his thumb along my mouth. Neither of us realized the band started to play What do you want from me? shifting the energy in the venue. The music slowly filled my ears like I was underwater and coming up for air finally. I smiled back at him, I was in a complete state of euphoria.

“Okay you win.” Quinn said into my ear as I gripped onto his shirt to keep my composure. “I definitely just found my new favourite song.”

“You have no idea how happy that makes me.” I mused as I had a lightbulb moment, “we need to get you into the pit.”

“Babe, no -“

I grabbed his hand and drug him into the crowd. Everyone was moving around and having the best time. I had to admit this was one of their better songs and it’s physically impossible to stay still during it. Quinn stood there frozen before giving in and started to jump around with me, not daring to let me out of his grasp. He sung the lyrics he was embarrassed to admit he knew with me, caught a guitar pick for me and held me as I cried during Just Pretend.

“Holy fucking shit, this guy is an animal.” Quinn gasped as the lead singer, Noah let out the most primal, gluttonous screams during the encore of dethrone. He wasn’t wrong though, I could feel those screams in my bones.

The concert finally ended, tears prickling my eyes as black and red confetti stuck to us and covered the entire floor. I didn’t want to leave but we had to. That was the best concert I’ve never witnessed and it felt so bittersweet that it was over.

“So, have I been a good boyfriend or what?”

I just chuckled as we made our way outside. The cold air hit my face and it felt like heaven after being a sweaty mess for three hours. We got into the car and Quinn leaned over to help me with my seat belt. I never once questioned why he started doing it, but I wasn’t about to complain about my boyfriend being this close to me at any given moment. His eyes were a perfect shade of green, the kind of green you wanted your morning matcha to be. They peered so deeply into mine I didn’t realize he asked me a question.

“So what’s my prize?”

“You’ll find out when we get home.”

[aspenmissing]

hiii~ could you please write the arcane mains (especially jayvik) with an asexual reader? thank you~~

ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʙꜱᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏꜰ ɴᴇᴇᴅ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴄᴏᴍ���ᴏʀᴛ || 3401 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ꜰᴇᴀʀ ᴏꜰ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋᴜᴘ?, ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ꜱʜᴀᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜɪʏᴀ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ~ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴʟʏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ɪᴛ!

ᴀʟꜱᴏ, ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴀꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ɴᴏ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴡʜᴀᴛ. ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ꜱʜᴀᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ.

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ

JAYCE

Jayce had always been patient. More than patient, really. He adored Y/N, cherished every moment with her. From the way she absentmindedly played with his fingers when they held hands to the way she always found the perfect words to comfort him after a stressful day at the Council.

She was his anchor, the one person who made all the chaos bearable.

But he wasn’t oblivious. He noticed things.

They’d been together for a while now, and while Jayce was never one to rush things, a quiet curiosity had begun to settle in the back of his mind. It wasn’t just the absence of intimacy in the way most people defined it—he never minded taking things slow—but there was something unspoken between them. A line Y/N never seemed to want to cross, even when they were wrapped up in each other, bathed in soft candlelight and whispered affections.

Had he done something wrong? Was she simply not ready, or was there something deeper that she wasn’t telling him?

Jayce had tried not to dwell on it too much. He loved her, that much was certain. But the uncertainty was starting to gnaw at him, and he didn’t want to be left in the dark any longer.

So, one evening, when they were curled up together on the couch in their shared home, the fire crackling softly in the hearth, he finally gathered the courage to ask.

"Hey, Y/N?"

His voice was gentle, hesitant. He didn’t want to ruin the moment—didn’t want her to feel cornered—but the words had been sitting on the tip of his tongue for far too long.

Y/N hummed, shifting slightly so she could look at him.

Jayce hesitated, then ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit of his. "I just—" He let out a soft chuckle, trying to ease the weight in his chest. "I guess I've been wondering... is there a reason we haven’t, you know, gone further?"

The moment the words left his mouth, he felt Y/N stiffen slightly against him. It was subtle, but enough for him to notice.

Jayce’s heart clenched. He immediately backtracked. "Not that I’m upset or anything!" he rushed to say, his grip on her hand tightening as if to reassure her. "I just—if it’s me, if I’ve done something wrong, you can tell me. I want to understand."

A silence settled between them, thick and heavy with unspoken words. The light from the fire flickered against Y/N’s face, casting shadows that danced across her features as she looked down at her hands, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.

"Jayce, it’s not you," she finally said, voice quiet but firm. "It’s not anything you’ve done."

Jayce felt a strange mix of relief and confusion at the same time. "Then… what is it?"

Y/N took a deep breath, as if preparing herself for something difficult. "I just... I’m asexual."

The words hung between them for a moment, and Jayce blinked, his expression shifting from confusion to curiosity.

"Asexual?" he echoed, tilting his head slightly. "What does that mean?"

Y/N hesitated, gathering her thoughts. "It means I don’t experience sexual attraction," she explained carefully. "It’s not that I don’t love you, because I do—so much. But I don’t feel the same kind of... need for intimacy that most people do." She swallowed, watching him closely for his reaction. "It doesn’t mean I don’t want to be close to you, or that I don’t want to share my life with you. It’s just... different for me."

Jayce was silent for a moment, processing her words. And then, he nodded slowly.

"...Oh."

It wasn’t a bad "oh." It wasn’t one of disappointment or rejection. It was an "oh" of understanding—of something clicking into place.

Y/N offered a small, somewhat sad smile, her eyes searching his face for any sign of a reaction she feared. "I get if that’s not what you expected," she murmured. "And if that’s something you need in a relationship, I understand. If—if you want to leave, I won’t hold it against you."

Jayce frowned, his brows knitting together as his chest tightened. "Leave?" He immediately reached out, taking her hands in his, squeezing them gently. "Y/N, I love you. That’s not changing because of this."

She looked at him, uncertainty flickering in her gaze. "Jayce, I don’t want to hold you back from something you might need."

Jayce shook his head. "Y/N, being with you isn’t about that for me. I love you—everything about you. The way you challenge me, the way you make me laugh, the way you make all the stress fade away just by being here." He cupped her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. "Being Asexual won't make me love you any less. It just means I understand you more now."

Y/N’s eyes softened, the tension in her shoulders easing. "...Really?"

Jayce let out a chuckle, pressing his forehead against hers. "Of course." His voice was warm, reassuring. "I mean, don’t get me wrong, I was confused for a bit—I thought maybe I was doing something wrong. But now that I know, it’s just... part of who you are. And I love every part of you."

Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, leaning into his touch. "You’re the best, you know that?"

Jayce grinned. "I do try."

She laughed, the weight on her chest finally disappearing. And as Jayce wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, she knew—he wasn’t going anywhere.

He never would.

VIKTOR

Y/N sat at her workbench, fingers absently tracing the worn edge of a blueprint, though she wasn't really reading it. The dim candlelight flickered, casting wavering shadows along the walls of their shared workshop. The quiet hum of the city outside felt distant, drowned beneath the steady thrum of her thoughts.

She needed to tell Viktor.

It had been weighing on her for months, an invisible wall between them that she felt responsible for. Every time she tried to gather the words, shame curled in her throat, swallowing them whole before they could pass her lips. It wasn't as though Viktor had ever pressured her—far from it. He was patient, ever understanding, but that only made the guilt press down on her harder. She felt like she was keeping a secret, a fundamental piece of herself, and the longer she held it in, the more suffocating it became.

Y/N exhaled shakily, gripping the edge of the workbench before pushing herself to stand. She turned, eyes landing on Viktor where he sat by his own desk, scribbling away in his journal. His brow was furrowed in thought, the soft glow of the lamp outlining his sharp features in gold. The sight of him made her heart ache in the best way.

“Viktor,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper.

He glanced up immediately, always attuned to her voice, to the slightest change in her tone. “Yes, Drahý?” (Dear)

Y/N swallowed hard. “There’s… there’s something I need to tell you.”

Viktor set his pen down, turning his full attention to her. “Of course.” He gestured for her to sit beside him, and after a moment’s hesitation, she did.

She wrung her hands in her lap, staring down at them as if they held the answers she sought. “I—” Her throat tightened. She tried again. “I’m asexual.” The words felt foreign leaving her mouth, like they belonged to someone else, someone braver.

A beat of silence passed, and she dared to lift her gaze to meet his. He wasn’t surprised. There was no confusion, no rejection in his expression. If anything, there was something warm in his eyes—something soft.

“I know,” Viktor said gently.

Her breath hitched. “You… you do?”

He smiled, a little sad but mostly fond. “I suspected for some time.” He reached out, his fingers brushing over hers with care, an invitation rather than a demand. “You hesitate before touch. You flinch when people assume intimacy is something expected. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable, so I waited.”

She blinked, stunned. “Waited for what?”

“For you to reach for me first.” His fingers curled around hers, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “For you to decide what you need, what you want.”

Tears pricked at her eyes. The weight in her chest loosened, something inside her cracking open in relief. “You’re not… disappointed?” she asked, voice unsteady.

“Why would I be?” Viktor chuckled, shaking his head. “You are the most brilliant, kind-hearted person I have ever met. My feelings for you are not dependent on physical expectations. I love you, Y/N. As you are.”

A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it, and Viktor reached up, brushing it away with his thumb. She let out a shaky laugh, leaning into his touch.

“I love you too,” she whispered.

Viktor pulled her close, careful, always careful. She buried her face in the crook of his shoulder, breathing him in, letting the warmth of his presence steady her. For the first time in a long time, she felt whole.

And she knew, with unwavering certainty, that she was safe in his hands.

JAYVIK

Jayce had noticed it first—how Y/N would always stop when things got too heated. It wasn’t abrupt or panicked, but there was a moment, a breath, where her body tensed, her hands stilled, and she pulled away with a nervous chuckle or a soft excuse. It had happened enough times that doubt began to creep into his mind. Had he done something wrong? Had Viktor?

He hated the thought. The last thing he ever wanted was to make her uncomfortable.

One evening, after another moment where Y/N had hesitated before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips and retreating to the safety of their bed, Jayce finally voiced his concerns to Viktor. They sat together in Viktor’s study, the dim glow of the Hextech crystal casting long shadows across the walls. Viktor, ever perceptive, had noticed as well—but he had not drawn the same conclusions as Jayce.

“She is happy with us,” Viktor murmured, fingers absentmindedly tapping against the edge of his cane. “I do not believe we have done something wrong, Jayce.”

“Then why does she always stop?” Jayce sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to push her, but… I need to understand.”

Viktor hummed in thought, gaze flickering toward the door leading to their shared bedroom. “Perhaps we should ask?”

Jayce blinked, then let out a short, breathy laugh. “You make it sound so easy.”

Viktor gave him a wry smile. “Because it is. We trust her. And she trusts us.”

With a nod, Jayce followed Viktor into the bedroom, where Y/N lay curled beneath the blankets, a book resting open on her lap. She looked up at them as they entered, a small, sleepy smile on her lips. “You two look serious,” she teased, setting the book aside. “Did something happen?”

Jayce hesitated, but Viktor, always the one to cut straight to the heart of things, sat beside her and took her hand. “Y/N, we have noticed… a pattern.”

Her fingers twitched in his grasp, and she glanced between them, wariness creeping into her eyes. “What do you mean?”

Jayce sat on her other side, rubbing the back of his neck. “You always stop when things start to get, well… heated.” He exhaled sharply. “Did we do something? Did I do something? If we made you uncomfortable, please tell us.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she sat up properly, reaching out to take Jayce’s hand in her free one. “No! No, you haven’t done anything wrong.” She glanced away, chewing on her lip before taking a steadying breath. “It’s me.”

Viktor squeezed her hand gently. “Go on, Lásko’.” (Love)

She exhaled slowly, meeting their eyes with quiet resolve. “I’m asexual.”

Jayce and Viktor remained silent, not out of shock, but to give her the space to explain in her own time. She searched their faces for any signs of discomfort or rejection, but all she found was quiet understanding and patience.

“I love you both. So much.” Her voice softened. “But I don’t feel… that kind of attraction. I like being close, I like kissing, I love being with you—but when it starts going beyond that, it’s like a wall goes up in my head, and I just… I can’t.”

Jayce’s shoulders relaxed, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “You should have told us sooner, sweetheart.”

“I was scared,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want you to feel like I didn’t want you. Or that I wasn’t enough.”

Viktor sighed, shaking his head as he pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “You are more than enough, Lásko.”

Jayce cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly over her skin. “We love you, Y/N. You don’t have to prove anything to us.”

She swallowed thickly, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “You’re really okay with this?”

“Of course we are,” Viktor murmured, nudging his forehead against hers.

Jayce grinned, wrapping his arms around both of them and pulling them into a tight embrace. “You’re stuck with us, love. Whether you like it or not.”

A watery laugh escaped her as she melted into their warmth, holding onto them as tightly as they held onto her. “I think I can live with that.”

And as they lay together that night, wrapped in each other’s arms, she knew—with absolute certainty—that she was loved.

VANDER

The Last Drop was quiet that evening, a rare moment of peace in the Undercity. Most of the regulars had already turned in, leaving only a few stragglers nursing their drinks. Vander sat at the bar, his large hands wrapped around a mug of ale, watching Y/N as they moved around the tavern, straightening chairs and wiping down tables.

Vander had always admired Y/N. From the moment they’d stepped into his life, they had been a steady presence—a sharp mind, a warm heart, and a will stronger than steel. He’d never been one for grand speeches, but with Y/N, he’d never needed to be. They understood each other in ways words couldn’t quite capture.

Tonight, though, something lingered between them, an unspoken weight. Y/N had been quieter than usual, their usual lightness subdued. Vander frowned, setting his mug down with a soft clink. “You alright, love?” he asked, his voice gentle but firm.

Y/N paused, fingers tightening around the cloth in their hands before exhaling slowly. “I… there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

Vander straightened, nodding. “Of course.” He gestured for them to sit beside him. Y/N hesitated for a moment before slipping onto the stool, their fingers fidgeting with the hem of their sleeve.

“I’ve been thinking a lot,” Y/N began, their voice steady despite the nervous energy in their hands. “About us.”

Vander’s heart gave a small, uncertain lurch, but he forced himself to stay calm. “Alright.”

Y/N took a breath. “I love you, Vander. You mean the world to me. But… I need you to know that I’m asexual.”

The words hung between them for a moment, and Vander saw the way Y/N braced themselves, as if expecting something to break.

He blinked, letting the words settle, rolling them over in his mind. Then, carefully, he reached out, covering Y/N’s restless hands with his own. “Alright,” he said again, softer this time.

Y/N looked up at him, eyes searching. “You… you understand?”

Vander offered a small smile, his thumb brushing over their knuckles. “I won’t pretend I know everything about it. But I don’t need to understand every detail to know what matters.” He squeezed their hand. “You love me. And I love you. That’s enough.”

A breath of relief escaped Y/N, their shoulders easing. “It’s just… I know for some people, that’s a deal-breaker.”

Vander chuckled, shaking his head. “Love, I’m not ‘some people.’” His expression softened. “Being with you, having you beside me—that’s what I care about. Doesn’t matter what shape that takes.”

Y/N stared at him for a moment before a small, genuine smile broke across their face. Vander swore the weight in the room lifted, the tension dissolving like mist under sunlight.

He reached for his ale again, taking a sip before smirking. “Though I gotta admit, I was worried for a second there. Thought you were about to tell me you were leaving me for someone else.”

Y/N laughed, shaking their head. “No chance.”

“Good,” Vander murmured, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to their forehead. “Because you’re stuck with me now.”

And just like that, the night felt a little warmer, the quiet a little kinder. Vander didn’t need to understand everything to know what was important—Y/N was his, and he was theirs. Nothing else mattered.

SILCO

The dim glow of The Last Drop’s lanterns cast flickering shadows across the room, the usual hum of the bar distant in the background. Silco sat across from Y/N in his office, his sharp gaze softened, though his fingers still toyed with a cigar he had yet to light. The revelation had settled between them like a delicate thread—fragile, but not broken.

He had always prided himself on being a man who understood people, who could read between the lines and predict their motives. But this? This was uncharted waters.

“Asexual,” he repeated, more to himself than to her. The word sat foreign on his tongue, not in a distasteful way, but in a way that demanded understanding. Y/N sat calmly, her expression unreadable, though he knew her well enough to notice the slight tension in her shoulders. Not from fear—but anticipation. Waiting for his reaction.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the desk. “And this means…?”

She let out a breath, her fingers tracing absent patterns on the wooden surface between them. “It means I don’t experience sexual attraction. Or at least, not in the way most people do.” Her voice was steady, but he saw the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “I love you, Silco. That hasn’t changed. But… that part of relationships? It’s never been something I’ve needed.”

Silco watched her, expression unreadable. Then, after a long pause, he reached across the desk and took her hand in his. A rare gesture of intimacy from him. His thumb ran slow, deliberate circles over her knuckles, grounding, thoughtful.

“I see,” he murmured. He wasn’t angry. Not disappointed. No, if anything, he felt—what was the word? Protective? No, that didn’t quite fit. Devoted? That was closer. He had given up everything for power, had built himself into something to be feared, respected. And yet, here she was, someone who had demanded nothing of him but to simply be. And she was looking at him now, searching for something—acceptance, reassurance.

A smirk ghosted the corner of his lips. “You think I’d love you any less?”

Y/N blinked. “I don’t know.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re a fool, then.”

Her lips twitched into a reluctant smile, and he squeezed her hand. “Tell me,” he continued, voice softer now, careful, “what can I do to make things… comfortable for you?”

Y/N swallowed, surprised by the question. She had prepared for resistance, maybe frustration. But this? This quiet, considerate patience? It nearly undid her.

“You already are,” she admitted, squeezing his hand back. “Just knowing you don’t see me differently—that’s enough.”

Silco studied her, then stood, rounding the desk with slow, deliberate steps. He cupped her face with both hands, his thumbs brushing just beneath her eyes, tracing the warmth of her skin. His touch was always precise, never wasted, and now it spoke volumes where words might fail.

“You are mine, my dear,” he murmured, his forehead resting against hers. “That hasn’t changed. Nor will it.”

A weight she hadn’t realised she was carrying lifted from her chest. Y/N exhaled softly, closing her eyes, leaning into the certainty of his touch. And in that moment, with the low hum of Zaun beneath them, she knew that love—real love—had never been defined by the expectations of others.

And neither were they.

[synthetickitsune]

S.Coups (SVT) | Manifestation crack | 0.7k | gn!reader warnings: dick size discussion A/N: never let me talk to @hanniedream this isn't what i thought i'd be writing today. also why did this turn out so angsty

“What did you do?” Seungcheol’s quiet growling, his no-nonsense tone, doesn’t carry too far in the silent cafe.

“What do you mean?” you ask, sipping the drink you paid for, and slide his own cup closer to him. He’s so enraged that he almost crushes the cup with his grip.

“You know what I mean,” he snarls.

You hum and look out of the window. Perhaps you do, but you want to hear him say it loud and clear. Although maybe not that loud, you don’t need people to start turning your way. It’s revenge but it’s not part of your plan to publicly humiliate him. At least for now. So you clear your throat before he can slam his fist on the table.

“I mean it, Cheol,” you sigh and blink up at him, the picture of innocence, “Whatever do you think I’ve done?”

He sets his jaw, his fists clench and unclench. There’s a fire in his eyes that you know too well. That same fire once was the beginning of your undoing.

“Are you kidding me right now?” he looks like he’s about to hit you but you know he wouldn’t. 

“No, I really have no idea what you’re talking about,” you pout your lips only slightly. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. His eyes scan the cafe but you’re sitting in a pretty secluded corner - again, a mercy he doesn’t deserve. He leans closer, gritting his teeth. His muscles bulge with the way his body gets tense. And suddenly despite everything, you find yourself drawn to him. Desiring him.

“My dick is shrinking,” he says, point-blank and without beating around the bush. You almost spit out your drink. He narrows his eyes at you.

“So I guess it’s working,” you snicker and the look in his eyes is priceless.

“You little-” 

He never gets to call you whatever he was about to call you, silenced by a curious look from a guy sitting a few tables over. There’s something very satisfying about watching Cheol withdraw back into his seat with fury still ablaze in his gaze.

“How and why?” he growls.

“Art of manifestation,” you shrug and chuckle at the confusion written all over his face, “I know, right? I guess not all of it is a scam.”

“As to why, do I really need to explain?” you quirk a brow at him. He just gives you a very straightforward nod. You roll your eyes. “You’re impossible, Cheol. You’re so annoying, walking around like you own the world. Like everyone needs to bend to you will just because you have a massive dick - oh wait, had a massive dick.”

“What?” he looks ready to pounce at you, and not in the way he usually does, “That’s it?”

“What do you mean that’s it?” you huff incredulously, “Have you ever heard yourself talking? Cheol, you’re lucky nobody’s fucking done this before.”

“You’re so petty!” he spits and buries his face in his hands.

“And you’re so infuriating. Sorry but you need to be humbled, I’m basically doing this for you,” you take another long sip of your drink and feel yourself relax. What’s he gonna do? Only you can help solve his little problem. And he looks sort of adorable being helpless like this.

“What can I do?” he finally whispers. You’d be lying if you said it doesn’t hurt just a little bit that he never spoke this softly to you before, not even in the early hours of the morning when you were both sweaty and breathing heavily after your nightly escapades. No, instead he’d be boasting about how good he made you feel. He deserves this lesson.

“Be a good person. Be nice, be kind, the usual stuff,” you look away but you feel his eyes burning holes through you anyway.

“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I am nice, just not to you?” he bites back.

“Careful,” you smirk through the hint of hurt, “As you said, I’m very petty and you wouldn’t want your situation to get worse.”

You get into a silent staring contest that you end up winning. But still, somehow, despite it all, you feel like all you did today was prove his point.

You end up getting asked out on a date, as if something inside of Seungcheol broke and he accepted his fate. Not what you expected but sure, why not if he’s on his best behavior. Let’s see where this goes.

[hannahssimblr]

The next day, I find myself there again, following the path from the beach to the wellness centre, through the hallways and to the back of the room. The guru, again, saying his bit about the present moment, and me, cross-legged at the back of the room, trying to observe it. 

My breath, my legs, my arms, my face, determined to focus, but unfocussing anyway, mind whipping away, spiralling, pirouetting like paper on the wind. This time, I stay twenty-three minutes, and then spend the day exploring. Afternoon, I eat a bowl of noodles in a restaurant without a top on, bare feet blackened from dirty floors. 

I meet an Irish tourist there, a freckled faced girl, thick, rural accent, says she’s from Tullamore.

“Tullamore,” I echo, stomach flipping. “I know some people from there.” And give her the short list, Shane and Kelly Healy, Claire O’Gorman, tacking Evie Kilbride to the end, a desperate plea for intel disguised as afterthought.

“Don’t know an Evie, but my sister’s friend went out with a fella called Declan Kilbride before. Could be some relation.”

“No, I dunno. You don’t know her, it’s fine.” I could go on about her, this girl I knew for a while. Evie, from Tullamore, like you are. I’ve a girlfriend now, though, Danish girl, and I’m in love with her. Sometimes, though, I imagine what could have been if I had acted differently last autumn. Not that I regret it, I just wonder. It’s probably normal to visualise other avenues sometimes, the road untraveled, don’t you think? Veronica? Is that what you said your name was? Do you think I’m normal? Do I seem normal to you?

She clearly doesn’t. I’m shirtless and shoeless at a noodle restaurant, bits of sunburnt skin peeling from the bridge of my nose, long, knotted hair like some kind of beach hobo wandered into civilisation. I act aloof until she goes away, leaving me to finish my meal. Then, aimlessly once again, I wander the island until sundown. 

On the third day, the meditators greet me. 

“You’re the little dude that keeps leaving before the end,” one says, and I respond with a sheepish smile. “Well, I’m back for another crack at it.” 

Jonas is with me today, colour back in his cheeks, fresh from his morning shower, fed and hydrated. This time, because of peer pressure, I stay until the end of the session, though with no improvement. Thoughts seeming louder, somehow, like rubber balls bouncing around the inside of my skull for the duration of the session. 

The fourth day, we join an evening session on the beach, the sand slowly cooling around us as the ocean shimmers crimson under the setting sun. There, it is easier to immerse myself in the present, the breeze, the birds, the waves whispering through pebbles on the shore, nevertheless, every sound reminds me of something else, the past reaching out and holding my face, forcing me to look at it. I sit in place long after the others have left, staring, unseeing, at the horizon. 

“Was it better today?” Jonas says, so quiet my by side prior to speaking, I assumed he had nodded off. 

“No, I’m still bad at it. I’m still thinking all the time.”

“You don’t need to keep coming back if you don’t want it. If it is annoying you, or you are not getting anything from it, then you can simply stop.”

“Hm. I like the idea of not thinking.”

He nods. “A quiet mind.”

“Yeah, exactly. I think it’s annoying me, meditation, like, because I’ve realised how absolutely batshit wild my head is. I’m always just… thinking about things.”

“That’s probably most people.”

“Most, but not all. I want to be part of the few that can control it.”

He makes a noncommittal sound and stretches out on the sand. Foliage lining the shore rustles in the balmy wind, and little grains of sand lift, sprinkling over my bare feet. What a beautiful place. Heart stopping, breath stealing beauty, with those mystical rocks rising steeply from the sea, and yet I’ve found myself in a mood since we touched down. Distracted, restless, unhappy. I express this to Jonas, the frustration, my near certainty I am immune to good feelings and enjoyment. 

“You always seem like that,” he points out. “Not just this week.”

“Oh.”

“You’re the most haunted man I know.”

Self-conscious, now, I rake up a handful of sand and squeeze it, focussing on the rushing sensation through my fist to avoid seeming too interested in his opinion of me. “Oh, am I? How do you mean?”

“Ever since we met, you have seemed troubled. I thought maybe you were feeling unsteady after moving, but you still seem that way. I hope it is okay to say that.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“I used to try to ask you about yourself, in case you needed to talk about it, but you never wanted to share, so I stopped.”

“Yeah, that was a weird time for me, back then, to be honest with you.”

He pauses a while, then encourages me with a cautious “yeah?”

“It’s weird, because I thought I was fine about it now, and I am fine about it, but something about being on my own so much this month has me feeling like I’m back there a bit. I’m, like, saddled with all that old shit again. And the summer and the sea and...” I trail off, gesturing lamely towards the ocean, as though it means something to him.

“What is it about?”

A sigh, or a laugh, or some combination at the ridiculousness of what I am about to admit. Something he could have guessed, and I’m sure he’ll think is quintessentially me.

“A girl,” I say. “There was this girl in Ireland.”

Jonas is quiet. I feel his eyes on me, but don’t meet them. I grab more handfuls of sand to soothe myself. “It was so weird though, because we–she wasn’t my girlfriend or anything. She was just this girl I liked. And maybe–if I hadn’t moved to Berlin. We… I…” Breaking off, embittered. “Doesn’t matter, though. I have Astrid now.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t make feelings about other people go away like magic.”

“It’s not… I don’t love this girl anymore. I don’t even know if I did to begin with, but it’s like she’s always there somewhere in my head, like some ghost not knowing it's dead, not moving on. It bothers me not knowing what could have been.”

“You think you would be together if things were different?”

“If I wasn’t an idiot, maybe, but maybe not. We were in different places in our lives, and she was really young. A year and a half younger than me, which is whatever, but she was young in a different way. Like, she was all having fights with her friends and stressing out about random drama and what things people were saying to each other. Things for me were already so much different than that. She was fun, though. It was easy.”

“Yeah?”

“Man, she was so funny. She made me laugh all the time. She used to come out with all these things, like awkward things she’d done or various thoughts she was having throughout the day, and they were always batshit thoughts, like, not at all normal things. Hilarious. And she'd ask me after, all embarrassed of herself, if it was normal, and I'd burst out laughing and tell her honestly, like, no. And the way she’d say this stuff. Like she knew it was fucking weird, and it was, but it was what I liked most about her. She felt like she could share it with me. I dunno who else she talked to in that way.” I hesitate. “She also, um, liked me a lot. Sometimes I think that maybe that’s the reason I spent so much time with her. Like, I craved the attention, or something, but that makes me feel like I’m actually horrible, so.”

“It’s nice to be liked.”

“Yeah. She obviously thought I was great, and stuff. She laughed really loud at everything I said, and was always agreeing with my opinions, telling me I was right, which I loved. In hindsight, it makes me think I’m awful. I'm thinking maybe all this is me grappling with the guilt.”

Jonas makes a thoughtful sound, and when I glance at him, he’s looking not at me, but out to sea. The final apricot streaks in the sky tossing a slash of light over his cheek. “Maybe you don’t really miss her, but the way she made you feel, and the person you were back then.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“That was awfully profound.”

He chuckles. “I’m happy I could offer some insight. Maybe you are apart for the best, you and this girl… What is her name?”

“Evie.”

“Evie. I imagine that being with her would have meant giving up some part of your life. Maybe not moving, or trapping you both in a long distance relationship.”

I shudder. “Yeah. That was my justification. But I guess now I see the fuller picture, too. I don’t think we would have worked long term, in terms of what we both needed from each other.”

“You are talking about sex now.”

“Basically.”

“You didn’t do it with her.”

“No. One time, almost. I knew I could have, but it was obviously not the right moment. Like, she was definitely– Um. I was planning to move away and just leave her there, anyway, so. It’s weird, though, to have all these feelings about someone I never had sex with, when I've done more with others and felt less.”

“You haven’t seen her since you moved away?”

“No.”

“Maybe if you do, you’ll feel differently about her, then. Sometimes, for me at least, I realise my mind has created a story about another person that isn’t true. Like somebody I'm certain I don't like, but I meet them and remember that they are perfectly pleasant.”

“God, wouldn’t it be weird if I saw her again?” I muse. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’d see her and be like ‘oh, she’s actually just some girl.’”

He shrugs. “Maybe she is, as you say, some girl. Perhaps she simply represents something to you, and reality will disappoint you.”

The prospect of this is devastating and freeing in equal amounts. Evie, an invention. An ordinary girl I projected my hopes and dreams upon. Easier to let go of, in that case. Less a real girl than a mirage.

I imagine for a moment, somewhere in the distant future, running into her at some fictional supermarket. I’m picking up some lemons. She’s got a baguette in her bag, and we smile and exchange pleasantries. She’s doing well. Steady job, bought a house last year. I’ll search her left hand for a ring and find one. A strange feeling to see it, to imagine who the someone-else might be. Though I’m married, too. A baby on the way. “I always thought you’d be a good dad,” she’ll say, and I’ll nod and say yes, I kind of always imagined a family. We’ll talk for a minute, pleasant, but brief. Her, a strange woman, and I, a strange man. Knew each other once, a long time ago, teenagers on the Wexford coast, a summer that tasted of sea salt and ice cream, so long ago now we can barely remember it. Memories bleached and faded like old photographs by a sunlit window. “Goodbye, now,” I will say at the checkout, and I will go out onto the street, and never see her again. It won’t matter, for I no longer focus on the past. Barely think of it, never dwell. Enjoying, at last, and concerned only with the present. Content with all the things I already have, and never again cursed to wish, yearn, want for anything more.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[annafayeink]

Canvas of Lies

summary: Cate’s life is a careful balance of paint-splattered sweaters, rejection emails, and dreams too big to fit in her tiny apartment. Lu’s life is all charm, designer sneakers, and family obligations that come with impossible expectations. They’re best friends, polar opposites—and suddenly fake dating to help Lu survive a high-stakes family dinner. What starts as an improvised act becomes a whirlwind of tangled stories, unspoken truths, and moments that blur the line between pretend and reality. In the chaos of lies they craft together, Cate and Lu might just uncover the truths they’ve been avoiding all along.

warnings & tags: best friends to lovers; fake dating; mutual pining; slow burn; emotional hurt/comfort; fluff, angst & humor; eventual romance & smut;

Read on ao3

Chapter Four

It was late afternoon, and the sunlight was softening and slanting through the trees. Lu and I strolled side by side down a quiet park path, close enough for our arms to brush occasionally. I’d insisted we take a detour past the fountain because it was my favourite place around here and, as usual, Lu hadn’t argued.

The backs of our hands touched, just for a moment, before his fingers threaded through mine. I knew exactly how Lu’s hand felt in mine, but now I couldn’t stop noticing things I’d never paid attention to before—the slight roughness of his palm, the way his fingers curled so naturally around mine. How had I never noticed that before?

It wasn’t the first time we’d held hands; we’d done it a million times before, like when we were crossing a busy street, when we wanted to keep track of each other at concerts or even when I needed a tug to keep up with his long strides. But this time, it felt different. Intentional. Like it meant something. Like it was staged.

I squeezed his hand and glanced down at our intertwined fingers. “Does this feel weird to you?”

“What? Holding your hand?” He raised an eyebrow, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips. “Not really. I’ve done it before.”

“Yeah, but not like this.” I gestured vaguely with my free hand, already feeling heat rise to my cheeks. “Not to make it look like we’re... you know.”

He tilted his head, considering. “Like we’re a couple?”

“Exactly.” I sighed. “It’s just holding hands. It shouldn’t feel like a big deal, right? But now it kinda does.”

Lu didn’t let go of my hand, but his thumb ran absently over mine. “Okay, maybe it feels a little weird when you put it that way. But it’s really no big deal. We’re overthinking it.”

For a second, I thought I caught something in his expression—something unreadable. But then he smirked like always, and I told myself I was imagining things.

“Maybe.” I let out a breath, glancing down at our linked fingers. The shape of his hand felt familiar in mine, but now I couldn’t stop wondering if this looked right.

Lu tugged me to an empty bench and we sat down. He stretched his legs out in front of him, and pulled his hand away to let his arm rest along the back of the bench. I leaned into it without hesitation, like I always did—the motion was so automatic I didn’t even realise it happened until I was already pressed against his side.

I glanced at his arm behind me and he caught me doing it. “What?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement.

“We’ve always been like this. Kind of… all over each other. Why does it feel different now that we’re trying to make it look like we’re dating?”

“Does it feel different?”

“It does to me. We always sit like this, it’s nothing. But now I’m wondering if someone’s watching us and thinking, ‘Wow, what a cute couple.’ And that thought feels... weird.”

He chuckled, his fingers brushing my shoulder lightly as he leaned back. “You are overthinking it. People can’t tell the difference between natural and staged anyway. If we’re comfortable, it’ll look real.”

“That’s exactly my point,” I said. “We’ve always been comfortable like this. What does that say about us?”

Lu didn’t answer right away. Instead, he squinted at the sun, as if it would help him pinpoint the answer to all of my questions. “That’s why people have always assumed we were… more,” he said, after a while. His voice was light, but there was something unreadable in his expression, something that made my stomach twist.

“I guess that’s why I’m overthinking all of this. Before it was just us being us. But now that we’re supposed to actually look like a couple, I’m suddenly aware of every single move we make.”

“Yeah, I understand that.” With the hand over my shoulder, he picked up a small strand of my hair and twirled it absently around his fingers.

I reached for his hand again. He didn’t hesitate, his fingers curling around mine like it was the most natural thing in the world. For a moment, the noise of the park faded, and it was just us on the bench, the world holding its breath. It wasn’t staged. It wasn’t strange. It just was.

We lapsed into a comfortable silence, watching as a dog sprinted past, chasing a red ball. A little boy squealed with delight as his kite finally caught the breeze, its tail dancing in the air. I followed its path, my mind wandering.

“You know what’s funny? I keep thinking people are watching us, but I haven’t actually looked at anyone else. What if nobody even cares?”

Lu chuckled, low and warm. “They probably don’t. Most people are too caught up in their own lives to notice stuff like this.” He gestured toward the small crowd milling about the park. “But if it makes you feel better, we can give them something to look at.”

I raised an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, really? And what exactly would that be?”

He leaned closer, mischief lighting up his face. “A grand romantic gesture. I could sweep you into my arms, dip you back, maybe even twirl you around a little. Really sell the whole ‘madly in love’ thing.”

I laughed, shoving his shoulder. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I?” He leaned back, grinning like he’d just won something. “I think I’d be pretty convincing.”

“I swear,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him, “if you ever try that, I’ll trip you before you even get to the twirl.”

“Noted.” His grin didn’t falter, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“You know,” I started, unable to keep a more serious tone away from my voice, “I don’t think I’ve ever done this with anyone else. Just... sit and be comfortable, like this.”

Lu’s gaze shifted to me, thoughtful. “Not even with Eric?”

I shook my head. “No. With him, everything always felt... I don’t know. Performative. Like there was a script. Like I had to try.”

I paused, considering my own words. Maybe that was the difference. With Lu, I didn’t have to try at all. I never had to think about what to do or how to act—I just was.

I cleared my throat. “He’d say something flirty and I’d laugh and touch his arm because that was expected or something. I guess that’s why it didn’t work out.”

He nodded, quiet for a beat before saying, “Yeah. I get that.” His voice was softer than usual, like the words carried a weight he didn’t want to drop on me. “I never really had that kind of comfort with anyone else either.”

That made me glance up at him, surprised. “Really? I thought you were always the smooth, cutesy boyfriend type.”

“I mean, sure, I played the part.” His lips curved into a faint smile, but his eyes were distant, looking somewhere else entirely. “But it was always surface-level. Never... this.”

There was something about the sincerity in his voice that made my chest tighten. I brushed it off, focusing on the comfort of the moment instead. “Guess we’re pretty lucky, huh? Being this comfortable with each other.”

“Yeah.” His voice was quiet, thoughtful, and in his smile there was a hint of sadness. “Lucky.”

The hum of the park filled the quiet between us, the occasional laughter of strangers drifting on the breeze. A couple passed by, arms linked, smiling like they were in their own little world. I watched them, their natural closeness, the way they moved together without thinking. It made me wonder why this, sitting here with Lu, felt so comfortable.

“Do you think it’s weird that we’ve always been like this?” I asked suddenly.

Lu tilted his head. “Like what?”

“This.” I gestured between us. “The touching, the leaning, the casual... everything. Most people don’t have this with their friends, right? So why is it so normal for us?”

He considered the question, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly over the back of my hand. “I don’t think it’s weird. I think it’s just... us. Some people are wired for that kind of closeness, and some aren’t. We just happen to be the kind of people who don’t need all those boundaries.”

“Maybe.” I sighed. “But now that we’re trying to make it look romantic, it’s like I can’t stop analysing it. Like, what if all those little things we’ve always done have been toeing the line this whole time, and we just didn’t realize it?”

Lu turned to face me, his expression softer than I expected. “Cate, if anyone else ever thought we were something more…” He hesitated, just for a second, then shook his head slightly. “That’s on them. We’ve always known what we are. And just because we’re pretending now doesn’t change any of that.”

His words sank in, and I nodded slowly, even as my mind lingered on the question. “Yeah. You’re right.”

His arm shifted from the back of the bench to wrap around my shoulders, pulling me close. It was a gesture I��d felt a hundred times before, but today, it made my stomach flutter. I told myself it was just the new context—the whole fake-dating thing—but the feeling didn’t go away.

“You okay?” Lu asked, his voice low, almost hesitant.

“Yeah.” I leaned into him, resting my head against his shoulder. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“About how convincing we are,” I said, trying to keep the mood light. “I mean, if I didn’t know us, I’d totally buy it.”

Lu smirked. “Well, we are a pretty great team.”

I tilted my head up to look at him. “We are, aren’t we?”

Our eyes met, and for a split second, the world seemed to tilt—not dramatically, but enough to make my breath catch. It was just a moment, a flicker of something unspoken that I had to force back down into hiding.

I was just starting to relax, the rhythm of Lu’s thumb brushing against my shoulder soothing in a way I didn’t want to think too hard about, when a voice cut through the quiet behind us.

“Cate? Luigi?”

My head snapped up, my heart lurching as I spotted Emma and her boyfriend, Alex, walking toward us. Emma—an old friend from college I still texted occasionally but hadn’t seen in months—was waving enthusiastically, dragging Alex along like she’d just found treasure.

Lu straightened beside me, his arm still draped casually around my shoulders, and shot me a quick glance. His raised eyebrow said it all: Well, here we go.

“Emma! Hey!” I forced a cheerful smile, sitting up a little straighter but not moving out of Lu’s hold. I couldn’t, not without making it more awkward. “It’s been a while!”

“I know!” Emma practically beamed as she reached us, pulling me into a quick hug before taking a step back.

“I didn’t even know you were back in town!” I said.

Her eyes darted to Lu, and then back to me. “And I definitely didn’t know this was happening.”

My stomach flipped, the weight of her curiosity pressing down on me. I laughed—too quickly—and gestured between Lu and me. “Oh, yeah. It’s, uh...a recent development.”

A recent development. That was one way to put it. Another way would be a complete and utter lie that had just become significantly harder to manage.

Emma’s eyes widened like she’d just stumbled onto the juiciest gossip of the year. “I thought you’d still be attached at the hip but not this!”

She turned to Alex and he elbowed her lightly. “Didn’t I tell you? I always said they were too close to not end up together eventually!”

“You did,” she agreed, chuckling. “I think I owe you ten bucks.”

I could feel my cheeks heating up, the flush creeping all the way to my ears. Beside me, Lu’s lips twitched in amusement, clearly enjoying this far too much.

“We were just taking a walk,” I said quickly, desperate to steer the conversation anywhere else.

But Emma wasn’t letting it go. “You know, at first I thought you two had some kind of unspoken thing going on. And then you told me—what was it you said?” She tapped her chin dramatically, as if trying to jog her memory. “Oh! Right. ‘He’s like my soulmate but strictly platonic’, wasn’t it?”

Lu let out a laugh, low and warm, and I shot him a warning glare. That, of course, only encouraged him. I couldn’t tell if the glint in his eyes was just amusement or something else but I didn’t have time to analyse it.

“Well,” he said smoothly, leaning back with that infuriating smirk of his, “she wasn’t wrong about the soulmate part.”

Emma clasped her hands together, grinning like she’d just read the happy ending of a romance novel. “See? I knew it! I’m so happy for you guys.”

“Thanks, Emma. It’s, uh...been nice,” I said, my smile stretched so tight it might have cracked.

“We should catch up soon. I want all the details,” Emma added, her enthusiasm bubbling over.

“Of course!” I chirped, already mentally plotting how to avoid that conversation.

Emma finally let herself be pulled along by Alex, her smile radiant as she waved over her shoulder. “It was so good to see you two! You look amazing together!”

I managed to smile, but something about her words clung to me. Did we?

As soon as they were out of earshot, I slumped back against the bench, groaning softly. “I cannot believe that just happened.”

Lu’s laugh rang out beside me, his arm slipping from my shoulders as he stretched out along the back of the bench. “I think it went pretty well.”

I turned to glare at him, though I knew there was no real bite to it. “I cannot believe you called yourself my soulmate.”

He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into that smug grin I both hated and couldn’t help but find endearing. “Technically, it was you who called me your soulmate. I’m just going along with it.”

I groaned again, burying my face in my hands. “Remind me to never tell Emma anything ever again.”

Lu nudged me with his shoulder. “Oh, come on. Admit it—it was kind of funny.”

Peeking at him through my fingers, I sighed heavily. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he said, grinning, “you insist on keeping me around.”

As Emma and Alex disappeared into the distance, Lu turned to me, his smirk firmly in place. I knew that look, and I knew nothing good ever followed it.

“So,” he said, his tone dripping with mischief, “what else have you been telling people about me? Should I be worried?”

I groaned, dropping my head into my hands. “Please don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m starting,” he said, shifting on the bench to face me fully. “Come on, soulmate. Spill. Do you go around telling people I’m secretly in love with you too? Or maybe that I cry during rom-coms?”

“You do cry during rom-coms.”

“Excuse you, but people who don’t cry during Notting Hill are soulless.”

I laughed. “I don’t know, it’s not like I go around making speeches about you.”

“People have always been curious about us. If you’ve been calling me your soulmate—strictly platonic, of course—I can only imagine what other gems you’ve been dropping.”

My fingers fidgeted with the hem of my shirt as I hesitated. “Honestly? I don’t really talk about you like that.” I glanced at him, my expression softening. “But... I have told people you’re the person I trust most. Like, if I need to hide a body at 3am you’ll show up with a shovel no questions asked. That you’re always there for me no matter what.”

Lu blinked, the teasing fading from his face as something quieter, almost vulnerable, took its place. When he spoke, his voice had lost its usual lightness, and became softer. “Oh.”

“When I’m having the worst days you always know how to make everything better without me having to ask. I tell them you’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”

“That’s… actually really nice to hear.”

I smiled, nudging his knee with mine. “Your turn. What do you tell people about me?”

He tilted his head, pretending to think. “Hmm. I tell them you’re my arch-nemesis and that I only keep you around to plot your eventual downfall.”

I laughed, shoving his shoulder. “Be serious.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, holding up his hands in surrender. His gaze softened as he looked at me, his smile less mischievous now. “I tell people you’re brilliant. And stubborn. And probably the funniest person I know.” He paused, his voice dropping just a little. “I also tell them you’re the only person who really gets me. Like, in a way no one else does.”

The words hung in the air between us, heavier than I expected. I knew Lu and I understood each other deeply. That wasn’t new. But hearing him say it—out loud, like it was something undeniable—made my chest feel too tight.

I stared at him, the usual playfulness between us fading into something... deeper. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came. Instead, I reached over and laced my fingers through his again, giving his hand a small squeeze.

Lu looked down at our hands, then back up at me, his smile returning, this time softer, more genuine. “See? It’s not so bad, being my soulmate.”

I groaned, the warmth in my cheeks betraying me. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Never,” he said, kissing my hair. That gesture was so brief and familiar it should have meant nothing. But it did. It did, and I wasn’t quite ready to think about why.

I shook my head to pretend I was annoyed at him, but the smile tugging at my lips betrayed me. As we sat there, fingers intertwined and the sounds of the park fading into the background, it felt... easy. Maybe too easy.

“Hey, Lu?” I said softly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?” he replied, his focus still on his thumb brushing my skin.

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

That got his attention. His head snapped up, eyebrows raised as he gave me a curious look. “So we're really leaning into that, huh?”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool, but I didn’t look away. “I’m serious. Do you?”

He leaned back, letting my hand rest in his lap as he considered it. “I don’t know,” he said after a moment. “I think... If soulmates are real, it’s not just about love. Not about romance or some magical ‘meant to be’ thing. It’s more about finding someone who just... fits. Someone who makes everything feel a little less complicated.”

I nodded slowly, his words settling somewhere deep in my soul. “That makes sense.”

He tilted his head, studying me. “What about you? Do you believe in that?”

I hesitated, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. “I used to,” I admitted quietly. “I thought I’d found mine once.”

His brows furrowed, concern flickering in his expression. “Really?”

“You remember Mike, the guy I was dating when we met? You know, before Eric?”

“Vaguely,” he nodded. “I only met him a few times.”

“Yeah. I thought he was it.” I shrugged. “He made me laugh, he made me feel special... and then it all fell apart.” I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. “I really thought I was going to spend my life with him. But looking back, I don’t think he ever really... knew me. Not the way you do.”

Lu’s grip on my hand tightened just slightly, his voice softer now. “I remember how much it hurt when it ended. But I never realized it was that deep for you.”

I gave him a small, sad smile. “I didn’t let you see how bad it was. You already did so much just being there for me—I didn’t want to dump everything on you.”

“You could’ve,” he said, his tone firm but gentle. “I would’ve been okay with that.”

“I know.” I paused, exhaling slowly. “That’s the thing, though. You’re the one person I don’t want to burden. You’re... different.”

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed on our joined hands. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more vulnerable than I’d ever heard it. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.”

I blinked, startled. “Never?”

Lu shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “Nope. I’ve dated, sure, but... it’s never felt like something I couldn’t live without. It’s like, the closer I get to someone, the more scared I get of giving them too much of me. Love... it always seems to end with someone getting hurt. And I’ve never been ready to take that risk.”

I looked at him again, this time with something closer to understanding. “Do you think you’ll ever be ready?”

“Maybe.” His expression was unreadable. “If I find the right person.”

Something painful tightened in my chest. “Well, when you do, let me know. I’ll have to approve of them, obviously.”

“Obviously,” he agreed, his smile widening. And then, quietly, he added, “There’s only one person I’ve ever even considered spending my life with.”

He tilted his head, almost as if to search my eyes, and my breath caught in my throat. I didn’t need to ask who he meant. The way he was looking at me said it all.

“Not in a romantic way, necessarily, but just... someone I know I can trust. Someone I know will never break my heart.”

“Oh Lu...” I started, my voice barely above a whisper.

He cut me off with a soft smile. “Don’t. It’s not a big deal. It’s just the way things are. You’re... safe, Cate. You always have been.”

My chest stung, emotions swirling inside me too fast to untangle. I didn’t really know what to say, so I settled for squeezing his hand, my thumb brushing over his knuckles. “You’re safe for me too, you know.”

The weight of the moment hung between us, unspoken but impossible to ignore. I wasn’t sure what compelled me to move closer, but I did. I lifted my hand, pausing only for a heartbeat before reaching up to slip my fingers into his hair. It was soft, a little messy from the breeze, and the familiar gesture grounded me in a way nothing else could.

Lu closed his eyes briefly, leaning ever so slightly into my touch. Then I let my hand slide down to rest on his shoulder, just below his neck. I shifted closer until our sides were pressed together, and without thinking, I brushed my nose against his cheek. His breath hitched—just barely, just enough for me to notice.

The warmth of his skin sent a shiver through me, but I ignored it, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of his breathing. “You’re safe,” I repeated, my voice barely audible.

He turned his head just enough to look at me, his expression softer than I’d ever seen it. “Cate…” he started, his voice low and reverent, but whatever he was about to say faded.

Instead, we just sat there, my arm draped over him and my head leaning against his. His hand came to rest just above my knee, with his thumb stroking lazy patterns as always. The noise of the park seemed to fade, the rest of the world falling away until it was just us.

And for a moment, it didn’t matter that this was supposed to be an act. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought.

Because this? This was real.

I let my eyes close for a second, breathing him in—the faint scent of his cologne, the warmth of him. It was effortless, the kind of comfort that didn’t ask for permission because it didn’t need to.

“See?” he murmured. “This is why we don’t have to overthink it.”

I tilted my head up slightly, my temple still resting against his cheek. “What?”

“This,” he said, giving my leg the lightest squeeze. “Being close. Acting like a couple. If we just don’t overthink it, it’ll come naturally.”

I exhaled a soft laugh. “You’re saying we just have to keep doing what we’re already doing?”

“Basically.”

I hummed, considering that. He had a point. No one would question a thing if we just carried ourselves like this—like we belonged close, like we fit.

A new thought wormed its way into my head, and before I could talk myself out of it, I asked, “Do you think there’ll be a moment at the party where we’ll have to kiss?”

Lu went still for half a second. Then I felt the slow rise of his chest as he inhaled.

“Maybe,” he admitted. “I mean, it might be expected at some point. Depends on the circumstances, I guess.”

I shifted just enough to glance up at him. His expression was unreadable, but his grip on me hadn’t loosened.

“Would it be weird?” I asked, my voice quieter now.

He was quiet for a moment, like he was turning the idea over in his mind. “Maybe,” he said finally. “Would it bother you? To kiss me?”

I let out a soft laugh, leaning my head fully against his shoulder again. “I don't think so. Would it bother you?”

His thumb moved absentmindedly against my thigh, a barely-there gesture. “No,” he said quietly. “Not really.”

My fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt for a while, my gaze distant as my mind worked through something I couldn’t quite name.

Finally, I broke the silence, my tone deliberately casual. “You know... maybe we should just get it over with.”

Lu turned to me, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Get what over with?”

I looked at him like the answer was obvious. “The kiss.”

His eyes widened slightly, and he blinked at me. “The kiss?”

“Yes,” I said, sitting up straighter, my arms crossing over my chest as if to bolster my argument. “I mean, think about it. It’ll probably happen tomorrow, right? And if we just... do it now, it won’t be weird when it does. We’ll already know what to expect.”

Lu stared at me, his lips parting as though he was about to protest, but no words came out. Finally, he let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “You’re serious?”

“Of course,” I replied, fixing him with a challenging look. “You’re the one who wanted to rehearse everything. This is just... another part of the act. Right?”

He leaned back against the bench, brushing a hand through his hair. “Cate, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but my kisses have been described as addictive. If you end up hooked, that’s on you.”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped me. “Addictive, huh? Well, just so you know, I kissed a guy once, and he was so overwhelmed his knees nearly buckled. So honestly, this is just as dangerous for you.”

Lu barked out a laugh, the sound warm and familiar, and shook his head. “Oh, really? Are we comparing stats now?”

I smirked, leaning in slightly. “All I’m saying is, if one of us ends up regretting this, it’s not gonna be me.”

For a moment, he just looked at me, the teasing glint in his eyes softening as he realized I wasn’t backing down. He exhaled, his smile lingering at the corners of his mouth. “Alright,” he said finally, shifting to face me. “If you’re so sure about this, let’s do it. But just so we’re clear—when you fall in love with me after this, I’m still going to blame you.”

My heart was suddenly pounding in my chest, but I kept my voice steady. “Deal.”

We moved closer, our legs pressed together, and the playful atmosphere gave way to something quieter, heavier. My gaze flicked from his eyes to his lips and back again, and I swallowed against the sudden tightness in my throat.

“Okay,” I said softly, my voice more breathless than I intended.

“Okay,” he echoed. His tone was easy, but his eyes flicked down to my lips.

I knew this was probably a terrible idea. But instead of pulling back, I leaned in. I didn’t want to second-guess myself any more than I already had.

He met me halfway and for a moment, the world seemed to still.

His lips were warm and soft, the kiss unhurried and careful. Not exactly tentative, just thoughtful. Like he was as aware as I was of how this could change things.

It lasted a few seconds, long enough for my hand to find its way back to his shoulder, for his thumb to brush absently against my shin. It was enough to make my stomach flip and my pulse race, like every inch of my skin was crackling with electricity.

We pulled back, almost at the same time. When I opened my eyes, his were still closed. He inhaled slowly, like he needed a second to ground himself before facing me again.

“Well?” I asked. I tried to sound casual even though my heart was racing. I failed.

He tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Not bad. I can see how someone’s knees might buckle.”

I laughed, swatting his arm. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious,” he said, his tone laced with amusement. “You might be dangerous after all.”

I rolled my eyes, but a smile tugged at my lips despite myself. “Well, now you know what to expect. No excuses if you mess it up tomorrow.”

“Mess it up?” Lu scoffed, leaning back with a confident grin. “Cate, if anything, I’m going to steal the show.”

I shook my head, laughing softly. Then I leaned against him again, settling my head back on his shoulder. His warmth was a steady presence, grounding me. My hand rested on his chest, fingertips lightly brushing the fabric of his shirt.

And then I felt it.

His heartbeat. Fast, unsteady, thumping against my palm.

I didn’t pull away, didn’t flinch. I just let the feeling sink in, the thrum of him beneath my hand, trying to make sense of everything.

But the longer I stayed there, the more I noticed. The more I felt. His breath, shallow but even. The way his muscles tensed slightly under my hand. How he didn’t seem to notice that his heart was racing.

And how, despite the way it made me feel—like I might be on the edge of something huge—I couldn’t bring myself to mention it. I didn’t want to overthink.

We just sat there, quiet and still, as if the world hadn’t quite caught up with what had just happened. We both pretended it was just another rehearsal, a necessary part of the act. But as the silence settled around us and the moment stretched out, I couldn’t deny that something had shifted between us. I couldn’t quite shake the way my lips still tingled from his.

And the way he looked at me—like he was thinking the exact same thing—only made it harder to ignore. He didn't say anything either. He didn't have to.

--

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Triangulum - Chapter 8 - Pin The Fist On The Triangle

 — — — — — — —

“You sure you know where we’re goin’, Dip?”

“Positive.”

A twig snapped beneath Dipper’s shoes as he hopped onto a nearby log. “Granted, we only went to the bunker, like, once last year,” he explained, shielding his eye with one hand to get a proper look at his surroundings. “But I did read Ford’s journal cover-to-cover a few dozen times, so I at least know what the tree hiding the entrance looks like.”

He flashed Stan a grin. “Plus, you know—found the journal itself near the bunker. And I’m never going to forget that day as long as I live.”

“Heh, yeah, I’ll bet,” Stan added. “Still can’t believe you managed to keep that a secret from me for over half the summer.”

The hand above Dipper’s eyes was slapped flat against his forehead. “I know, right? And I can’t believe you managed to hide all the portal stuff even longer than that! Man, if we’d just…said something to each other sooner, maybe we could’ve gotten Ford back a lot quicker!”

“Preachin’ to the choir with that one, pal—huh, hang on, now I need t’ breathe—”

With a wheeze, Stan propped himself against the nearest tree with one arm. “Can’t help Ford and Mabel out if one of us drops dead from ‘no-air-in-lungs’ disease before we get there.”

Dipper looked down at him and folded his arms in amusement. “You know if Ford was here, he’d probably correct you with the phrase ‘oxygen deprivation’.”

A grin of his own tugged at the corners of Stan’s mouth. “And if Mabel were here, she’d point out how you sound like just as much of a giant nerd as he does for knowing that.”

The two of them shared a laugh, one that petered off into a gruff sigh on Stan’s end as he shifted to a position with his back against the tree. “So, uh—that little birdie from before didn’t really explain why the two of you crafted some kinda plan to run off and help Ford. Or why you were the one to stay behind at the party instead of your sister.”

He winked playfully at him. “No offense, kid, but you ain’t the first person in the family I’d turn to when it comes to bein’ a party expert.”

“None taken, it wasn’t the original plan,” Dipper explained. “I offered to go after Ford myself, but Mabel was pretty set on being the one to go help him. Said she wanted to spend more time with Ford this year. But—”

The rest of his sentence fell with both his expression and body as he hopped back down from the log, and Stan quirked an eyebrow. “But, huh? Feel like sharin’ those thoughts you’ve probably been twistin’ yourself into knots over all day?”

“More than all day,” Dipper admitted. “Mabel’s just been acting kind of off lately. Not even lately, actually—ever since we got home last year. Every time the topic of Weirdmageddon comes up, she just gets so—okay, I know it’s the most obvious way to describe it but weird.”

A shrug. “She didn’t want to talk about it with Mom or Dad, and I didn’t really want to either. They had a lot to deal with last year, and we kinda just…agreed to keep that one to ourselves—”

“Smart call.”

“—but she also just kinda goes out of her way to avoid talking about it at all,” Dipper continued. “Even with me. Which, you know, I get it. I don’t really like thinking about it or talking about it much either. But with her, it just feels…different, you know? Like there’s something I’m missing that’s so obvious, but at the same time, it could just be me overthinking things like I always do.”

He pressed his hands to his face with a drawn-out groan. “Ugh, I kinda hope it’s that second one. I mean, Mabel and I are supposed to be a team, right? I thought after last year, we’d be able to talk to each other about anything that was bothering us. If we can’t do that…”

His words trailed off once again as he cast Stan an uncertain look. “Sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about all this,” he said “You were going on and on about how much of a Pines man I’ve become, and here I am—still getting anxious over stuff that’s probably nothing.”

He let out a weak laugh as his gaze fell to his hands, while Stan kept his own locked on Dipper for a moment of quiet consideration. One that he was quick to break before he could get too lost in it with a light nudge to the boy’s arm. “Hey, come on—you’re just worried about your sister havin’ something that worries her, and thinkin’ she can’t share that worry with you,” he pointed out. “‘Cause when you’ve got a twin, you would think that one of your worries is both of your worries. And then when it’s not, you’re left with your own batch a’ worries about their worries, and whether or not you’re worthy of knowin’ about their worries in the first place—”

He circled a hand in the air. “And now I’m talkin’ in circles and ‘worry’ doesn’t even sound like a real word anymore. Point is, it’s practically a Pines family tradition at this point to get yourself tied up into thought-knots over your twin’s safety and wellbeing.”

Dipper cracked a small smile up at him, one that fell into a knowing look almost immediately after it had formed. “Is that what’s been happening with you and Ford?”

A grunt was Stan’s response, his actual reply going unsaid for a few seconds longer than he would’ve preferred. “We’re talkin’ about you and Mabel right now, aren’t we?”

“We are,” Dipper agreed. “But you did say that ‘no one else was stepping up to help Ford out’ before we headed out here. Is that why you were spending all day on the boat? You wanted to find a way to help Ford?”

“I said we’re talkin’ about you,” Stan insisted, before pressing a hand to his own forehead and peering through a cluster of nearby trees. “So, either keep yappin’ about how worried you are over your sister or go back to pointin’ me in the direction of the bunker.”

BANG!

A loud gunshot echoed through the surrounding wood, snapping their attention towards the direction of the sound. “Huh, I think Ford might’ve just picked an option for me,” Dipper said.

“That, or some random hunter who’s late to the Shack party,” Stan added. “Either way, a gunshot usually means the opposite of anything good.” 

He pressed a hand to his chin. “Unless you fired it yourself, but even then it’s only good if you succeed in takin’ out whatever you were firin’ at in the first place. If it was dangerous enough to fire a gun at to begin with, you don’t wanna go and mess that up. Consider that some kinda life lesson or whatever.”

“Considered,” Dipper said. “But if it was Ford who fired the gun, that could mean something went wrong in the bunker. Him and Mabel might need our help!”

BANG!

Another shot being fired enveloped the area, and Dipper sped off through the underbrush in a hurry. “Wait, Dip—hold on a sec,” Stan called as he quickly followed after him. “Probably a bad idea to go running after the sound of a gun in the middle of the woods at—”

His warning was cut off as he stepped through a pair of bushes, only to immediately lose sight of Dipper between the dark trees. “ —night.”

He let out another sigh—one that finished just before a third shot was fired, and he took off running again with the faintest, stupidest hope that it really was just a random hunter with a complex for being fashionably late to parties. Those probably existed somewhere, right?

…Even in a town with as much weirdness as Gravity Falls, Stan still wasn’t sure how much of that he could actually buy.

 — — — — — —

“Stop running, Bill! You know we’re faster than you!”

Bill peered out from behind the tree he had ducked behind for protection, one hand resting against the trunk while he cupped the other around his mouth: “Question for you, Shooting Star: do you really think that asking politely is gonna make me obey?”

From where her and Ford stood a short distance away, Mabel stomped her foot with a huff. “Well, I’ll never know unless I try!” 

Ford remained silent during their banter, gun raised once again as he took aim at Bill. He had already fired several shots, all of which had been targeted at a non-lethal part of Bill’s body; legs, arms, even maybe a shoulder. 

Unfortunately for Ford, the number of bullets that landed a hit had been a big, fat, goose-egg of a zero. But now the chance to once again lodge a bullet into Bill’s skull had presented itself to him. A clear and easy shot if he moved quick enough.

Yet here he was—a hesitant finger trembling half an inch above the trigger.

He still hadn’t quite processed what had happened down in the bunker. One second Bill’s lifeless body had been sprawled out across the control panel, and the next he was barreling out the door towards the exit like he had never been shot in the first place—the only evidence to the contrary being the slowly-drying blood that still decorated the control panel.

All of which had taken place outside Mabel’s line of sight, an option that was no longer available due to the jabs and jeers from his right side.

He dared to pull his attention from Bill for a moment to watch her out of the corner of his eye. How did she feel, as she countered Bill’s retorts with her own? Had she concluded that any attempt to kill Bill had merely resulted in failure, and simply not dwelled further on that train of thought? Did she still harbor a grudge towards Ford over a mere attempt—successful or otherwise—to kill someone who so strongly resembled her brother?

“Grunkle Ford, shoot him!”

…Well, clearly the evidence presented to him suggested otherwise.

But despite Mabel’s insistence, Ford’s gun remained unfired. Even if Mabel herself truly held no negative feelings towards the ordeal, there was still plenty of other things to worry about when it came to the option of shooting Bill again.

What exactly did it mean if Bill was able to survive a gunshot to the head? Ford had originally assumed that Bill had been goading him into firing a shot as a means of escaping his vessel, but he had popped back to normal while still inside said vessel. Had a mad dash for freedom while his captor was too stunned to react properly been his real real plan all along?

His gaze returned to Bill. And what did that mean? That Bill simply couldn’t be killed at all, and he wanted Ford to be aware of that fact? Had that been his actual plan? What did it mean if—

“Grunkle Ford, he’s getting away!”

A tug on his sleeve and another outcry from Mabel finally snapped him from his thoughts entirely, just as Bill finally ducked out of sight and took off running again. Biting back a curse, he gestured for Mabel to follow as the two hurried after him—Bill’s devilish laughter trailing behind him and encircling them like snares around the necks of unsuspecting rabbits—

“ACK!”

—only to be completely cut off by a yelp of surprise and the sound of something tumbling to the ground just beyond a set of bushes. As Ford and Mabel finally drew closer and stepped through, they were greeted by the sight of Bill on his knees in the middle of a clearing—hands slapped to his forehead as if he’d collided hard with something at full speed.

And as their gazes travelled further over to the right, they were quick to realize that had been the exact scenario to unfold as someone else came stumbling out of a patch of nearby shrubbery.

“Dipper?”

Sure enough, Dipper now stood before them in the middle of the clearing—clothing a stained mess of dirt and mud and a hand pressed to his own forehead with a pained: “Ugh, did I just run into a wall?”

“Hey, you’re the one who ran into me,” Bill griped. “Seriously, Pine Tree, where’s the fire? What, did you mistake me for another redhead you never had a snowball’s chance of getting with in the first place?”

“Hey, I—”

Rather than acknowledge him, Dipper’s hand trailed all the way up to his hair and patted the top for a moment. “Aw, man, he knocked off my hat,” he muttered in annoyance before his gaze fell to his clothes. “And got dirt on my—ugh, come on, I just washed everything too! How is there this much mud out here, I’m pretty sure it hasn’t rained in a while…”

While he attempted to brush some of the dirt from his clothing, Mabel bounded quickly over to her brother’s side. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Could ask you the same thing,” he pointed out, directing an especially-perturbed scowl at one of the stains on his shirt. “Weren’t you supposed to be down in the bunker?”

“Ugh, tell that to him.”

Mabel followed up her reply with a scowl in Bill’s direction, one he reciprocated before pulling himself back to his feet. “Yeah, well, wouldn’t want to intrude on this touching family reunion, so if you don’t mind—hey, HEY!”

Before he could make a move to start running again, a strong hand grasped the back of his jacket and hoisted him up off the ground with a sharp yank—seconds before something cold and metal was pressed against his cheek.

Well, guess someone did mind after all.

Despite being quite literally caught off guard, however, Bill eyed the end of Ford’s gun with an unimpressed look. Now that he knew about Tangy’s rule of not being able to truly die until the game was over, any threats on Ford’s end were about as threatening as—

—well, honestly as threatening as they would’ve been back in his original form. What’s the worst that Ford could do now, put another bullet in his head?

Just for good measure, Bill cast a sidelong glance at his left wrist for a quick look at his speck. Most of it was hidden by his sleeve, but he could still make out the topmost—bottommost? It didn’t mattermost.—points just barely peeking out from beneath his cuff. Just enough that would be easily missed by anyone who wasn’t looking for it, but still noticeable for those who knew it was there.

He risked letting his gaze linger on it for a millisecond longer before his pupil shifted back to Ford. If he had had no way of knowing about Tangy’s little respawn trick until it mattered, then there was even less of a chance that Ford knew how it worked. Poor Fordsy’s mind had to be racing with possibilities about how he popped back to life down in the bunker—likely with no clear answers about how it happened and a million theories branching off in just as many directions. 

The corners of his mouth twitched with devious intent. Well, when the driver already had little control over the wheel, the best thing to do was to grab it with both hands and veer him so off-course that he went carreaning over the side of a cliff!

And sure, Bill might’ve no longer had access to the car dubbed Ford’s Mind, but he still had ways to tamper with the breaks. “So how’re we gonna do this, Sixer? You feel like trying to shoot me again?”

The gun clicked as Ford turned off the safety. “Stop talking.”

“Make me stop talking, then,” Bill goaded further.

From where her and Dipper stood, Mabel’s scowl lowered further for a moment before she turned to her brother with a brighter expression. “You said you lost your hat?”

“Yeah, might’ve landed in the bushes somewhere,” Dipper said, and started fumbling through the leaves. “He ran into me pretty hard—oh, wait, there it is—”

“I think I heard ‘em over here!”

As he rose to his feet with the hat clutched tightly in hand, the sound of footsteps approaching caused both children to take a few steps back—just in time for Stan to step out into the clearing. And upon seeing the group, he called behind him with a: “Yep, they’re h—”

A pause, before he looked back at them with several blinks of confusion. “Hang on a sec.”

“What’s wrong?” a voice called behind him, seconds before another person stepped out into the clearing to reveal—

“Wh—Dipper?”

Sure enough, a second Dipper now stood at Stan’s side, giving his sister a wave as he slowed to a stop. “Hey, Mabel, what’s—”

And suddenly his words were interrupted as well as he also took in the sight before him. “—happening?”

The entire group was silent, befuddled gazes shifting from one Dipper to the other. Even Bill couldn’t help but glance between them with a raised eyebrow of his own. “Well, this night’s just full of surprises, isn’t it?”

“You stay out of this!” Mabel chided him, before giving the identical boys another unsure look. “But…yeah, this is pretty weird.”

“Okay, so what’s goin’ on here?” Stan asked, pointing a finger at the Dipper next to him. “We got one—” He moved the finger to the Dipper who had originally crashed into Bill. “—two—”

And finally, to Bill himself. “Somethin’ ain’t right here. This one of your tricks, pal?”

“First of all, Goldfish, why would I tell you if it was?” Bill asked. “Second of all, what would making two Pine Trees accomplish for me personally?” 

He flashed his teeth at the rest of the group. “Heck, it’s bad enough that one of ‘em exists already! Personally I think not bringing another one into the world is just me doing the rest of you a favor!” 

He let out a cackle. “Meanwhile the faker’s just performing a microaggression against everyone else’s peace of mind! Haha!”

“Ugh, do you seriously have to lay it on that thick?” The Dipper from Stan’s side piped up in annoyance, before pressing a hand to his forehead. “Nope, no—not focusing on you right now. First we’ve gotta figure out why there’s currently two of me standing here.”

“Who cares why there’s two of me?” The other Dipper added. “I think the actual thing we need to be focusing on is which one’s the real one—”

He looked over at Ford. “Or, you know—getting rid of him, like I’m guessing you were trying to do until now? I just came out here to help you find a solution.”

“Hey, that’s why I came out here, too!” The Dipper beside Stan added, narrowing his eyebrows at the doppelganger. “And I’ve even got Grunkle Stan to back me up for that first thing! We’ve been together the entire time!”

“Darn right we have,” Stan agreed loyally, pointing a finger towards the other. “If anyone here’s some kinda fakey-fakerson, it’s that one!”

“Thank you,” the Dipper beside him said appreciatively.

“...Sure, there were a few seconds where the two of us got separated in the woods, but other than that, the kid hasn’t left my side once!”

The same Dipper cast a flat look up at him in annoyance. “Really?”

“Well, I’m not a fake!” the other Dipper insisted. “Ask Mabel, she’ll back me up! Right, Mabel?”

He cast a hopeful glance to his sister, only to be met with a lukewarm, so-so hand gesture in response. “I meaaaaan, we did just run into you a few seconds ago,” she pointed out. “I want to trust you’re the real Dipper, but you do have a weird trend of ending up with clones that look exactly like you.”

“That’s what being a clone means!” The Dipper beside her insisted. “Of course we’re going to look alike!”

“I don’t want to agree with him,” the other Dipper added. “But he does raise a good point, Mabel. It wouldn’t be a clone if it didn’t look exactly like me.”

“Alright, alright, everyone just calm down for a sec,” Stan ordered, turning his gaze to his brother. “Ford, any input on this whole Seein’ Double ordeal?”

Bill felt the tip of the gun withdraw from his cheek the slightest amount, and he once again cast a glance up at its owner. Ford had remained silent throughout the whole doppelganger reveal, and his expression was studious as he looked between the two of them.

Despite the concentration he put up for the rest of the group, Bill could feel the hand on the back of his jacket trembling just the faintest amount. A fact that once again returned the smile to his own face.

Perhaps Ford was genuinely trying to figure out the correct answer to the issue at hand. Or perhaps the sudden reveal of yet another Pine Tree was only scrambling his brain matter even further than it already was, leaving him open for further scrambling until his thoughts were completely servable with a side of mind bacon and a glass of mind orange juice.

And boy howdy, did Bill need himself a good plate of mind breakfast! The middle of the night was the best time for it, after all! 

Yeesh, first a mind car, then a mind breakfast? He was going all over the place with his metaphors. Point was, some higher power was being overly generous with all the opportunities they were granting him to mess with Ford’s head. And with the entire family—plus one—as witnesses, maybe revisiting the events of the bunker would succeed in agitating him further.

Worst case scenario, he got another bullet in his head for a few minutes. But in turn, the rest of the family got some trauma outta the ordeal and he had another opportunity to escape while they were too shocked to react.

“Sounds to me like there’s some pretty damning evidence on both Pine Trees’ sides,” he said aloud with a grin. “Perhaps a classic case of ‘shoot them both in the foot and see which one of ‘em cries harder’ is in order.”

“Absolutely not,” one Dipper replied sharply.

“Not in a million years,” the other added in agreement.

“I’m just saying, it’d probably be an effective method in finding the fake Pine Tree,” Bill pointed out, with a wink up at Ford. “Unless Ford would rather just give them both the same treatment he gave me down in the bunker instead.”

The gun was pressed against his cheek again in an instant. “Stop. Talking.”

He felt the hand on the back of his shirt tense, curling his smile further. “What, Fordsy, not up for a repeat performance now that you have an audience to see what you did?”

His grin widened as the rest of the group’s attention immediately shifted from the dopplegangers to Ford with varying levels of confusion. “Grunkle Ford, what’s he talking about?” one of the Dippers asked.

“Yes, whatever is he talking about~?” Bill asked, batting his eyelashes up at his captor. “Feel like sharing with the rest of the class? Or, I guess, showing the rest of the class? You were sooooo quick to do it when it was just the two of us down there, weren’t you?”

He continued to stare up at Ford with a smug expression, far too pleased by the malice in his own features as he pressed the trip of the gun further into his cheek. Oh, such malice might intimidate a lesser being into behaving properly—but for Bill, it only further confirmed what he’d known since the second he’d regained consciousness the day before.

Ford was terrified. Terrified and confused and desperate to keep control of the situation. And with the new information he’d learned down in the bunker, the cracks in his armor were becoming clearer and clearer—

“Who cares what happened down there?” Stan piped up. “Like we’re gonna listen to anything that’s coming outta that twisted mouth’a yours.”

“Yeah!” Mabel chimed in. “And anyway, why would we even think about shooting either of the Dippers! That’s the dumbest idea ever from the dumbiest, dum-dum ever!”

Momentarily caught off-guard by the interruptions, Bill cast them both a nasty look. One that only fell further when the grip on the back of his jacket relaxed again. Spoilsports. “Well, I don’t hear the rest of you coming up with any solutions.”

“You know, I might have a solution that doesn’t involve listening to him,” the Dipper beside Mabel spoke up. “In fact, that’s why I came out here in the first place. Well, sort of, I was already looking up a way to help you out with him—” A gesture towards Bill. “—but then I spotted something else in the journals that we could probably use to solve this issue, too.”

With a grin, he reached for Mabel’s hand and gave it a tug to pull her along. “So all we have to do is go back to the Shack…and—”

When the hand-pulling ceased to be effective, he looked back to see her giving him a confused stare. “Woah, woah, pop the breaks for a sec, Bro-Bro,” she said, pulling her hand away. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

“What do you mean what am I talking about?” Dipper asked. “I’m talking about the journals. You know, the ones full of all the weird and wacky creatures and magic stuff? The ones that he wrote?”

He gestured over to Ford for support, only to be met with a look of suspicion in response—all while the smile on Bill’s face returned in full force. “Well? Isn’t anyone going to answer him?”

The Dipper blinked in disbelief, the grip on his hat tightening as he looked over to where Stan and the other Dipper stood. “Come on, back me up here—”

In response, Stan moved to place a protective hand in front of his Dipper. “Think you might’ve just given us the answer we were lookin’ for, pal.”

“What are you TALKING about?” the other Dipper asked, tone rising in anger. “Is this some kind of elaborate joke, or do none of you seriously remember the journals?!”

“Oh, they remember,” Bill chimed in with a smirk as he glanced at his nails. “It’s just that they’re no longer an option for any sort of help.”

The smile twitched wider—revealing most of his teeth—as he pressed the hand to his chest. “Since yours truly set them all on fire last year~! Hahaha!”

“And when they did return to normal,” Mabel added with a suspicious glare at the other Dipper. “Grunkle Ford tossed them down into the Bottomless Pit!”

“They did what?! He did what?!”

Bill’s smile vanished in an instant as his gaze whipped back to Ford. “You did what?! Yeesh, Sixer, way to break your toys so no one else could use ‘em.”

“The point being made here,” Stan spoke up. “Is that the real Dipper would’ve known that by now.”

“And he does!” the Dipper near him chimed in. “He very much does!”

“Yeah, so give it up, you faker!”

Fists raised, Mabel took a step back towards the rest of her family as they all stared at the newly-dubbed fake Dipper with suspicious realization. The fake Dipper who was twisting the hat in his hand with a vice-like grip and blinking an unusually rapid rate.

But rather than blink the usual way, his eyelids appeared to open and close sideways, similar to some kind of reptile or insect.

In fact, a lot of the faux-Dipper’s mannerisms had grown a lot more insect-like now that he was under suspicion. His arms and legs twitched with jerky spasms, ones that grew too sporadic for him to keep hold of the hat, and it tumbled to the forest floor. 

And not even the dirt and grime that had stained it in the earlier collision could mask the familiar pine tree symbol on the front of the hat. 

A telltale sign that the group had correctly identified the imposter. 

An imposter who’s body suddenly began to morph and shift into a large bug creature—its tendrils waving about widely as it let out a violent, animalistic roar that shook the forest around the Pines. “What the heck is that?!” Stan asked, hands slapped to his ears.

“Shapeshifter.”

Ford’s gun had moved from Bill to the massive being without a second thought, as it slammed one of its front appendage to the forest ground with a menacing thud. “Well, if this isn’t a pleasant reunion,” he spat at them with clear disdain, gaze landing on the adults. “Old Six-Fingers returns after thirty years—”

A quick morph and he now resembled Ford.

“—and a second, just like him!”

Another, this time with Stanley’s appearance as the end result.

“And who could forget the kids~?”

Dipper, then Mabel—before he turned his gaze on Bill, still clutched tightly in Ford’s hand. “And the detested one with the big mouth, of course! Ooh, this one’s new.”

A final morph and the group found themselves face-to-face with a short, blonde boy. Despite every instinct telling him to kick Ford in the ribs and book it while he was distracted, Bill found himself momentarily stunned as he continued to stare as the shapeshifted being before him. 

By process of elimination, he was now staring down at the spitting image of his vessel’s appearance.

As initially speculated, the resemblances to Dipper were clear as day—with the hair color and eyes being the main differing factor. But outside of that, it was like he had jumped back about a year—poking and prodding at his new flesh-puppet’s face while he stared into the mirror of the Mystery Shack’s attic while the kid’s spirit watched on in horror.

Overall, highly unimpressive and disappointing. Just the face and body of some twelve-year-old brat.

A final morph and the shapeshifter transformed into a horrific conglomeration of all five of them, one that proceeded to launch itself at Ford for an attack. Unprepared, Ford stumbled back as he raised his gun to fire off a defensive shot to the shoulder—

—only to release his grip on Bill’s jacket in the process, sending him tumbling to the ground.

Despite his appreciation for the incomprehensible horror before him, Bill knew a distraction to take advantage of when he saw it, and that it was definitely time to book it outta there! Which is exactly what he did; scrambling to his feet and taking off like a shot into the woods. An escape attempt that went unmissed by Mabel, who had quickly moved off to the side of the fight with the rest of her family. “Bill’s getting away!”

“Not for long,” Stan said. “You kids go after ‘em, I’ll stay here and help Ford with this oversized caterpillar!”

Despite the attack, Ford managed to get a few bullets on Shifty, causing him to retreat backwards for a moment. “What—no, nobody go after Bill!” he ordered, moments before Shifty leapt at him again. “I’ve just got to—”

Seconds before Shifty could make contact, Stan’s fist collided with the side of his face and sent him crashing against the nearest tree. “Go after Bill!” he repeated to the kids. “I doubt I need to tell you not to let him get away!”

“Stanley, I just said—”

“Yeah, and I said what I said!” Stanley countered. “You’ve got the gun, and that’s gonna be needed to take this bastard down. I stay to help you here, and the kids get Bill.”

“We’re on it, Grunkle Stan,” Dipper said, with a gesture to his sister to follow. “Come on, they can handle the shapeshifter on their own!”

“Right!” Mabel agreed. “Don’t worry, Grunkle Ford, we’ll get Bill!”

Before Ford could protest further, the younger twins took off running in the same direction as Bill, leaving the adults to grapple with a furious shapeshifter. One who was quickly shifting between several different forms in an attempt to gain the upper hand.

Eventually he settled on the form of a vicious mole-creature before launching his entire body at Stan, earning himself a brass-knuckled punch to the jaw. “Come on, Ford,” Stan said, fists still clenched as he jumped back in time to avoid a swipe from the being’s claws. “I know I ain’t exactly the best at puttin' that three-sided jerk under by twice as many feet, but you can’t tell me you don’t at least trust the kids to get the job done right.”

Despite Ford’s attention being mostly fixed on unloading a round of shots into Shifty’s body, he managed to cast Stan a look of genuine confusion. “Stanley, what are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talkin’ about!” Stan protested, taking a fighting stance as Shifty decided to crawl up a nearby tree for an aerial advantage. “That’s why you didn’t want me helpin’ you out today, right? Because you think I’m gonna screw it up like I did last time—”

Stan was cut off as Shifty lunged for him in the form of some giant, wolflike creature, and the two of them disappeared into the dark underbrush of the forest.

“Stanley!”

Ford was hurrying after them without a thought; darting his gaze around for even the tiniest sign of movement against the darkened woods.

Any sign at all—any sign that Stanley was okay—

And suddenly he popped into view again, clearly in some kind of physical battle against whatever was on the other side of the tree that obscured Ford’s line of sight, until it finally ventured out into view to reveal—

—another Stanley.

Oh, no.

— — — — — — —

Despite his exhaustion from once again having to run with legs clearly not built for the task, the temptation to direct mockery at the footsteps behind him was simply too tantalizing for Bill to resist.

And if the sound of footsteps wasn’t enough, a quick look over his shoulder that confirmed Dipper was hot on his trail only set him further in his decision. “What’s wrong, Pine Tree~?” he called with delight. “Can’t run with those short little leg—ACK!”

His smack talk and removal of attention from the path ahead proved to be immediately karmatic—for it was only a second later that his foot snagged on a tree root and he was sent tumbling forward to the ground. 

And as he attempted to pull himself to his feet again, a sudden kick to the ribs—one accompanied by a yelp that trailed beyond him and onwards ahead—brought him back down in an instant, face bouncing hard off a nearby boulder.

Despite the pain quickly spreading through his ribcage and lip, Bill forced himself back to his feet just in time to see Dipper slow to a stop just a short distance ahead of him—fists raised as he took on a defensive stance. “Apparently my short legs can still run better than yours.”

At a glance, his pose and smart comeback might’ve implied a sense of control. But the slight wobbling in his legs, uneven footsteps in the dirt, and earlier yelp implied that the kick he had delivered to Bill’s side might’ve been more accidental as opposed to deliberate.

Heh, Pine Tree had absolutely tripped over him when he’d fallen and was trying to play it off like he had the upper hand in this situation. How precious.

The taste of metal brought a hand to Bill’s mouth, crimson staining his pale skin as he scrubbed away the blood. Looks like even with Birdbrain’s little respawn abilities, his body could still bleed.

Even with that kind of power, there were still weaknesses to be found.

His grin returned as he wiped his hand clean on his pant leg. No matter how tough Pine Tree tried to pretend he was now, he was still the weak, pathetic, anxiety-riddled twerp he had always been. All Bill had to do was find the right ways to make him bleed.

Another thoughtful glance down at his hand as the grin twitched with malice. Well, if it had worked on Ford—

“You think you’re soooo tough, don’tcha, Pine Tree?” he jeered. “But now you’re stuck out in the middle of the woods with me~! And you can act as tough as you want, but I know how terrified you really are of me.”

He winked at Dipper with wicked delight. “And I think we both know why, don’t we?” 

Despite his attempt to keep his stance firm, even Dipper couldn’t hide the way his shoulders tensed at that question. A motion that brightened both smile and wickedness further as Bill cupped his chin in one hand. “Nostalgic, isn’t it? Staring directly into your own face and body while someone else is at the wheel?”

Ooh, if that didn’t completely wipe the mask away from Dipper’s expression and display his fear in full force! “Y-you don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Oh, come on, kid, I think we both know I do,” Bill taunted, pressing a finger to his cheek. “What, you really thought I didn’t know what was happening here? Thought I just picked this body without knowing full well what I looked like—”

THUNK.

Bill’s mockery was swiftly cut off by something hard smacking firmly against his forehead, and he slapped a hand to the spot with an offended look. “Did you just throw something at me?!”

From where he stood, Dipper tossed another rock up and down in his hand with a proud grin. “Huh, guess even a nightmare demon’s not immune to monologuing long enough for someone to chuck a rock at his head.”

With a furious shout, Bill launched himself at Dipper to try and knock him down. An attempt that seemed to work, with Dipper collapsing to the ground beneath their combined weight and the rock he’d been juggling rolling just out of reach.

With the weight of his body keeping Dipper pinned, Bill quickly fumbled at the nearby ground for his own rock and raised it over Dipper’s head with a manic little giggle. Heh, looks like he’d get a chance to spill some blood outside of his own tonight~!

And just so Pine Tree knew his intent—“Well if I’m not immune to getting my pasty human brains splattered everywhere, then I know for a fact that you’re not immune to it either!”

He reared his arm back to give himself more force, but the attempted impact was thwarted by Dipper’s hand gripping his wrist in defense. Tightly and successfully gripping his wrist, for Dipper apparently possessed enough strength to keep Bill’s arm locked in place. 

Weird, Bill could so clearly remember Pine Tree’s body being too weak to race around a stage for more than a few minutes last year. Where the heck was all this new muscle coming from? “I mean, it’s not my go-to method for getting rid of you,” he continued, voice strained as he fought against Dipper’s grasp. “Would’ve preferred a more creative approach, like flinging you off the nearest water tower—”

“Get off of me!” Dipper protested with an attempt to wriggle himself free.

“But hey, when in Rome: bash a kid’s skull in with the nearest heavy object!”

Despite Dipper’s admittedly-successful attempts to keep him at bay, Bill fought just as hard in return to overpower him. To overpower him, to bring the rock clutched so tightly in his hand that his palm was beginning to hurt down on his stupid, pathetic face, to force him to stare directly into his own twisted reflection as it delivered painful blow after painful blow, until the light slowly but inevitably faded from his eyes for good—

“Hey, Bill!”

Before Bill had time to process another voice behind him, a ropelike object was thrown over his head and pulled taut around his throat—his focus snapping away from Dipper long enough for the other boy to knock him off and send the rock scattering out of his reach.

Luckily for Bill, his assailant released the grip on whatever they had used to try and strangle him once Dipper had tossed him aside. And he was quick to his hands and knees again, one pressed against his throat as he cast an irritated look towards whoever had thwarted his little murder attempt. Although he had a pretty good idea of who the culprit was, even before his functioning eye landed on her ridiculous popcorn sweater.

Sure enough, Mabel now stood several feet away from them, a braided rope of streamers in one hand and a fierce expression on her face. “I’ve got something I’ve wanted to say to you all day—”

“Did you seriously just try to choke me out?” Bill asked, rubbing the sore spot with a wince. “Yeesh, Shooting Star, I gotta stop underestimating your bloodlust.”

“Wh—” Mabel started, confident demeanor faltering for a second. “I mean, yes, I did, but—”

“Guess I’ve also gotta stop underestimating your creativity, too,” Bill continued. “I mean, choking a guy out with streamers? Not a bad play, I’ve gotta admit. A lot more creative than Pine Tree just throwing a rock at me.”

“Hey, I’m trying to say something here!” Mabel said, stomping her foot with an indignant pout.

“Yeah, well, I was trying to bash your brother’s head in with a rock,” Bill pointed out in return. “So I guess none of us are getting what we want, are we?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Before Bill had time to respond, a pair of arms had wrapped themselves around his legs and yanked backwards, bringing him back down to the forest floor with a hard thud. “I think I’m getting what I want pretty easily!”

While Dipper let out a delighted laugh at his success, Mabel hurried to join them with a proud fist in the air. “Nice one, Bro-Bro!” she cheered. “Can’t believe that actually worked with him, too!”

“Haha, I know, right?!” Dipper agreed excitedly, the lower half of Bill’s legs still clutched tightly in his embrace. “Sorry to interrupt what you were trying to do there—I saw what it was, I just couldn’t resist.”

“No, no, you’re fine,” Mabel insisted. “I wasn’t entirely sure if it was the right time or not anyway, so not a huge deal.”

She scowled down at Bill. “Plus he interrupted me first, so the moment was ruined anyway!”

From the ground—face once again smushed into the messy soil—Bill was seething. At this rate, he was going to have to slot ‘being knocked to the ground and forced to consume a mouthful of dirt’ near the top of the list of the most annoying things he’d been forced to endure across the past day. Maybe right above ‘falling to the ground while tied to a chair’ and just beneath ‘people giving him headaches, under several definitions of the word’, given Dipper’s stupid little rock stunt.

As he moved to press a hand to his forehead again in bitter pain, his eye landed on the speck still barely peeking out from beneath his sleeve—the thought to ask Tangy for help bubbling to the front of his mind. 

No, he knew the answer to that before he even considered it further. Even without their little cooldown remark in mind, Bill was beginning to question just how resourceful they actually were when it came to helping him out. Sure, he’d had more than his fair share of moments where he unfortunately had to give them credit for thinking ahead, but there were just as many moments where they had conveniently forgotten to tell him something important about their little game.

As for the game itself, Bill was also beginning to question if Birdbrain’s special prize truly was worth all this trouble. Was the destruction of the town barrier really worth racing around in some fleshy little bone suit, being constantly hunted down by Ford and his stupid family? Was it really worth all the secrets on Birdbrain’s end, all the rules they conveniently forgot to tell him ahead of time?

Yeesh, at this rate he was better off finding a way to just torture the information out of Ford again. Sure, that’d be more difficult the second time around, but at least he wouldn’t be caught up in some wild goose chase. 

Yes, he’d already used that bird pun before, but it was also the most accurate one for his situation! Not only was he practically being chased from one side of the valley to another by Ford’s stupid family, but he was so busy trying to escape from his stupid captors in general that he had no idea where to start looking for any pieces of Tangy’s stupid charm—

A cawing sound overhead pulled Bill’s gaze upwards, and he narrowed his eyes at a crow that had settled in the tree above him and the kids. Great, just what he needed—another annoying bird.

His irritation earned him another caw before the crow shifted to preen itself, the shifting of its wings revealing something shiny and golden clutched in one of its talons.

Bill’s eyes widened, all previous gripes about the game momentarily forgotten as he squinted closer to try and get a better look. Could that really be the first piece of Birdbrain’s stupid puzzle? It was a longshot for sure; for all he knew, the crow had just snatched some random person’s jewelry. Completely-unrelated-to-the-other-annoying-bird’s-game jewelry.

“—should probably tie him up, huh? Think those streamers of yours will work as a rope?”

“Psh, you know they will! Remember what I told you earlier about using them to scale a tree?”

“Oh, yeah, you did do that, didn’t you? Speaking of which, actually—why didn’t you just use your grappling hook?”

“I haven’t unpacked it yet, and the streamer thing was way cooler anyway!”

Shoot, the brats were starting to wrap up their conversation. Heck with it—even if it wasn’t a part of Tangy’s charm, Bill wasn’t going to be able to find any actual pieces if he ended up restrained again. He needed to get away from them as quickly as possible.

Before Mabel could approach him with her streamers in hand, Bill reared back his left leg and kicked as hard as he could—his efforts rewarding him with a painful yelp on Dipper’s end and the grip around his legs being released. Taking quick advantage of his freedom, he scrambled back to his feet and dashed off once again.

Rather than immediately follow after him, Mabel was at Dipper’s side in an instant to examine his face. “Dipper, are you okay?”

“Fine, fine,” he insisted, pressing a hand to his sore nose. “Nothing broken, just surprised me more than anything. …Honestly, I think Waddles might’ve had more of a powerful kick than he does.”

A pause. “Not sure what that says about my kicking abilities from last year, though…”

“Let’s keep chasing after him, then,” Mabel said, gripping her streamers tight. “I’m gonna call that triangle a dumbass to his face at the right possible time if it kills me!”

Before Dipper could reply, she took off like a shot into the night—leaving her brother standing alone in the darkness. And with a sigh and shrug, he hurried after her with a: “At least stay close enough to where you can hear me, we already had to deal with one shapeshifting fake-out tonight!”

“Who’s fault is that?” she called back to him.

“...Not mine? I wasn’t even there when he got out!”

— — — — — — —

“Ford, shoot him!”

“I refuse to partake in this nerdy clone trope, just shoot both of us if you’ve really gotta do it!”

The hand around Ford’s gun trembled as he watched the two Stans before him struggle to gain the upper hand over each other. After spending several years raising a shapeshifter and watching him transform into other beings during his research, one would’ve thought that he had picked up the ability to tell Shifty apart from the original being he was imitating.

And yet, here he was. Forced once again to aim a gun at his own brother, while he struggled desperately to distinguish him from an imposter.

“After all, you are the expert in destroying those who are just trying to help you, aren’t you~?”

His grip on the gun tightened as Bill’s earlier words from the bunker flooded his thoughts. He shouldn’t have let Bill get under his skin, shouldn’t have let his temper flare up to the point where he made such an amateur mistake as not double-checking the storage room before he left. He should’ve stayed behind and make sure Shifty and the others that had been locked in the cryogenic chambers were taken care of first and foremost—

“Come on, Sixer! Just—take a page outta the triangle's book and shoot us in the foot or whatever! I can walk it off, you know that!”

“He does not know that! What he does know is that I ain’t as young as I used to be, and there’s no way I’m getting anything done with a busted-up foot!”

“Watch it, pal, I ain’t that outta shape—ack, was that cracking sound your back or mine?”

“Think it mighta been both of them, actually.”

The sound of the Stans’ protests snapped Ford out of his thoughts. “I’m not—I don’t want to shoot you, Stanley!” he insisted aloud, barrel of the gun shifting between them. “Regardless of body part!”

“Aw, come on!” one of the Stans argued. “You really think I can’t handle one measly bullet to the foot? ‘Sides, the sooner you take care of this, the sooner you can get back to chasin’ after Bill, right?”

Bill…

That’s right, Stan had been saying something about Bill before Shifty had attacked him. Something about screwing up like he had done last time?

If Shifty had no way of knowing about Dipper’s change in style or the fate of the journals, there was no way he would know what the real Stan had meant by that. And if Ford could get the real Stan to explain that further—

“What did you mean a few minutes ago?” he asked aloud. “About me thinking that you were going to screw it up like last time?”

One Stan gave him a confused glare as he succeeded in pinning the other to the ground. “Wh—seriously, Ford?! I’d rather just take the bullet in my foot!”

“Yeah, at this point I might actually prefer the bullet too,” the other added.

“I am not shooting you. Answer the question.”

A grunt as the Stan on the ground managed to swing a fist into the jaw of the other, causing him to lose focus long enough for the first Stan to slam him against the nearest tree. “Look, it’s not a big deal, okay?” the tree-pinned Stan called out with a struggle, the other’s arm pressed against his neck. “We both know the little triangle demon was supposed to burn up in my head, and that didn’t pan out like we wanted. I screwed up like I always do and now you feel like you’ve gotta handle all this Bill stuff by yourself again.”

He swung a fist into the other’s gut and it was the other Stan’s turn to stumble back while the first returned to a fighting stance. “And I don’t blame you for not wantin’ my help this time around, alright? After all the other times I’ve ruined your life in the past, I wouldn’t want my help again either.”

He barely managed to dodge as the other lunged at him. “But you can’t just keep dealin’ with him all by yourself, either! I know just how badly that little jerk messed with your head, even if you don’t ever talk to me about it! So even if I’m still the world’s biggest screwup, lemme at least help you by doin’ the one thing I’m actually good at—takin’ a hit for you!”

Both expression and posture sank, the fight momentarily forgotten. “And yeah, yeah, I know I’m not actually all that good at it. But I’m pretty sure even I can’t screw up gettin’ shot by an actual bullet—”

BANG!

Stan was knocked to the ground by a swing of the other’s fist, an inhuman howl escaping the attacker as if he’d been the one to be injured instead. And after a painful grunt from the impact, Stan quickly realized that had been the case when his eyes landed on the doppelganger’s shoulder—blood now gushing from a wound the exact size and shape of a bullet.

Stan’s gaze traveled further over to where Ford stood, landing on the faint whisps of smoke trickling out of the still-raised gun barrel. “Give it up, Shifty! You’ve been found out.”

The other Stan let out another roar of pain before his body morphed and shifted back into his usual form, blood from the wound splattering across the forest floor as he scuttled backwards from Ford. “You think you’re so tough, don’t you?” he spat at Ford, tone laced with metaphorical—and potentially literal—venom. “Think you can just come crawling back after thirty years and keep ordering me around?”

“Yeesh,” Stan said, backing up on his hands towards Ford. “Remind me who this ugly mug is again?”

“Like I said before, he’s a shapeshifter,” Ford explained, keeping his gun aimed forward. “I hatched him from an egg, back when Fiddleford and I were doing our research. When he got bigger, he started seeking out—let’s call them questionable ways to get ahold my journals so he could learn more dangerous forms to imitate. Eventually it got so bad that I was forced to seal him away in one of the cryogenic chambers.”

“You thought you sealed me away,” Shifty corrected. “I spent countless years wandering around that wretched bunker, desperately trying to claw my way to freedom. Until those brats of yours sealed me back into one of the chambers during one of their little escapades.”

His mouth curled into a snarl. “But not even they could stop me from finally escaping that wretched hole in the ground. They couldn’t stop me, you couldn’t stop me—and you are NOT taking me back!”

A swing of his fist shook a nearby tree, scattering a flock of nearby birds into flight. And with another roar of anger, Shifty’s body shrank to their size and took flight—soaring up and through the tops of the tall pine trees that made up the forest and vanishing out of sight and reach.

With a sigh both full of relief that the fight was over and full of weight at what was to come of Shifty’s escape in the future, Ford shakily turned to help his brother up from the ground. “You alright?”

Stan groaned, his joints cracking several times as Ford pulled him to his feet. “You’re askin’ the guy who took down an army of mutant crabs off the coast of Jamaica if he’s alright after dealin’ with some overgrown grub? Or—what’d I call him earlier? A caterpillar? Whatever, a giant bug’s a giant bug.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Stan’s expression fell as they stared at each other in tense silence for a moment—

—before a synchronized shout of “The kids!” hurried them off in the same direction that the younger twins had taken off after Bill.

— — — — — — —

“Stop running!”

“Once again, Shooting Star, do you really think asking politely is going to get me to do anything?”

“I’m optimistic!”

A blur of pink went sailing past his left side, the streamer unfurling as it whizzed past and tangling itself in a nearby bush. Guess she’d resorted to throwing her remaining streamers at him in an attempt to stop him from running.

Welp, at least it wasn’t a rock this time. Maybe Pine Tree had been spooked enough by his earlier stunt to not reconsider the idea. Or maybe they just couldn’t grab any while racing after him.

Either way, Bill kept running—much like he’d been doing throughout the past day. Running despite the annoying pain in his stupid, flesh legs and annoying burning in his stupid, flesh lungs, and annoying footsteps of the stupid, flesh pursuiters behind him.

He heard another caw overhead, pupil shifting upwards in time to see the crow from before soaring straight ahead, the unknown item from before still clutched firmly in its left talons. From where he stood—or ran—it was still too difficult to tell whether or not it truly was a piece of Birdbrain’s puzzle. But when the bird veered hard to the right, Bill was quick to follow regardless—letting out a small cackle at the sound of frantic skidding and leaves crunching behind him. 

Haha, sounds like the brats need to give their breaks a fresh can of oil!

A zinger he probably would’ve said out loud, if his attention wasn’t sorely fixed on the path and bird ahead. Hey, whether or not the bird was carrying one of Tangy’s charm pieces was still a win-win on Bill’s end if he caught up to it.

If it was a charm piece, he was that much closer to winning their game. His earlier thoughts about giving up on the game entirely were irrelevant—he could always change his mind again once the piece was actually in his hand.

If it turned out to just be some random piece of jewelry—well, that just meant he’d get a random piece of golden jewelry out of the ordeal! One he desperately needed as a way of accessorizing the incredibly generic suit that Birdbrain had stuck him in; seriously, what was with their sudden interest in not picking the tackiest, gaudiest outfit this side of the Multiverse?

And if it turned out to be fake gold? Well, looks like he’d get that chance to bash someone’s brains in with a rock, after all. Or rather, something in the form of the little birdie who’d put him through this chase in the first place.

Man, he was really on his head-bashing-based torments tonight. He blamed Ford’s little stunt down in the bunker—it just wasn’t fair if his brains were the only ones that got to be used as decorative wallpaper.

The bird soared onwards through the wood, towards a series of bright lights that began to poke through the gaps in the trees—ones that came with the addition of faint music and joyful chattering. Almost as if he were approaching some kind of massive gathering or—

Oh, right.

Sure enough, when Bill slowed to a stop between a pair of birch trees, he was greeted by the sight of the Mystery Shack—with hundreds of partygoers crowding the property on all sides. 

So the knuckleheads had gone through with having their party after all, huh? And not too shabby a job, by the looks of things. Pretty nice turnout, building itself covered top-to-bottom in an excessive number of decorations. Heck, Bill was almost impressed. Almost. He definitely could’ve done a better job if they’d put him in charge of things.

More cawing overhead reminded him of his mission, and he looked up in time to see the bird exiting the forest and circling above the crowd for a bit, before finally settling for one of the letters on the busted roof sign.

He let out a low chuckle. Looks like Bill Cipher was finally slipping back into Lady Luck’s favor tonight~! Not only would it be easy enough to climb up to the roof, but the large crowd meant shaking his pursuers would be as easy as taking candy from a baby.

“Bill!”

Speaking of which—

With a smug grin cast behind him—and fond remembrance of a time where he’d stolen a lollipop from Paci-Fire—Bill took off into the crowd just as the kids finally caught up to his hiding spot.

“He’s getting away,” Mabel said, making a motion to continue after him—

—before a hand on the back of her sweater stopped her in place. “Hold on a sec,” Dipper said. “If we just go charging after him in front of all those people, someone might catch onto what we’re doing and start freaking out. Remember what Grunkle Ford yesterday?”

“Oh, yeah,” Mabel said thoughtfully. “It’d be pretty hard to explain the whole ‘Two Dippers’ thing to people without revealing that one of them’s actually Bill.”

She tapped her chin. “I guess we could always try passing him off as our long-lost cousin or something, but eugh—” A shudder. “Even just pretending that he’s related to us makes my skin all creepy-crawly.” 

“Ditto.” 

Dipper peered out to the crowd again with silent contemplation as he searched for any sign of Bill among the partygoers. Lazy Susan was holding a conversation with a random barf fairy—a conversation that ended as stomach-churning as expected and Dipper quickly forced his attention away with a look of disgust. A group of non-barfing fairies all gathered around the punchbowl while Pacifica’s parents conversed with them—Dipper’s gaze lingering on Pacifica herself for a second too long before he tore it away with pursed lips. All the Manotaurs were still gathered around the Meat Table and still just as loudly passionate about their food of choice—

“Kids!”

The sound of someone else’s voice behind them drew both Dipper and Mabel’s attention from the party and back to the forest behind them—just in time to see both Stan and Ford emerging from the darkness. “Are you two alright?” Ford asked as they slowed to a stop.

“Are you?” Dipper asked in return. “That was a pretty quick fight…”

“Come to think of it,” Mabel added, peering closely at them. “Are you sure you two are actually you?”

“Yeah, no, we’re not doin’ that again,” Stan said, before pointing between himself and Ford. “I’m me, he’s Ford, and what’s-his-face-when-it’s-not-his-face turned into a bird and flew off after Ford shot him in the leg. If you don’t believe me, I can just rattle off all the different joint pains I’ve gotten from running around the woods all night.” 

With a wince, he gingerly tapped his left foot against the ground. “Think I might’ve regrown a couple’a old bunions in the process too if you really need hard proof—”

Mabel winced in disgust. “Eugh.”

“That’s what I thought,” Stan said, flicking a thumb at himself. “There’s not a shapeshifter alive that can truly replicate a guy like me.”

"Definitely Stan,” Dipper said.

“No doubt,” Mabel agreed, before casting a suspicious look to Ford. “Although…”

“Stan and I have been together since the fight ended, and we can discuss shapeshifter-proof codewords at a later time,” Ford said, his grip on the gun tightening as he peered out at the party. “Where’s Bill?”

“Oh yeah, that’s him alright,” Mabel said with certainty.

“We chased him all the way here, but lost him when he took off into the crowd,” Dipper explained. “Only reason we haven’t followed after him was because we didn’t want to start a panic with the whole—”

He gestured to himself, then proceeded to form a triangle with his fingers. “—thing.”

“I appreciate you kids taking my initial concerns into account,” Ford said. “With a crowd as big as this, there’s a chance he could start yelling or attracting the attention of any nearby onlookers if we found him.”

He pressed a hand to his head in exasperation. “Although, I guess that’s not all we’d have to worry about now, is it?”

His words trailed off, the rest of his explanation lingering in an uncomfortable half-silence that was only broken by the sounds of the nearby party. “So, uh—” Stan began awkwardly. “Wasn’t gonna give the little jerk the satisfaction of knowing that he actually got me curious about it, but I’m gonna guess your bunker plan didn’t go so well?”

“Yeah, I was wondering about it too,” Dipper admitted. “What happened down there? Why were you two chasing Bill through the woods, and having to deal with the shapeshifter? And what did Bill mean by ‘not up for a repeat performance now that you have an audience’—woah, hey, Grunkle Ford, are you okay?”

“I—”

It was only at that moment that Ford processed just how much of his body weight he’d sank against the trunk of the nearest tree, and just how badly his entire form was trembling on legs that were barely keeping him upright—

Nope, there they went as he finally collapsed into a kneeling position, any attention to regain his footing immediately thwarted by matching pairs of hands in his own. “Grunkle Ford, no,” Mabel scolded lightly from one side. “Don’t make yourself stand up again.”

“Yeah, you look like you’re about to pass out,” Dipper added from the other. “Have you…eaten anything today since breakfast?”

Between the younger twins, Stan knelt down with a narrowed glare. “Did you eat breakfast at all?”

“I…” Ford started. “Did you?”

“We’re not talkin’ about me, and that tells me all I need to know,” Stan said, folding his arms. “Gonna guess you probably don’t have some kinda magical refrigerator that restocks itself down in the bunker, either. Or any of those nutrition pills you used to take before you remembered actual food exists?”

“That would be…a fair guess.”

“You didn’t eat ANYTHING while you were down there?” Mabel asked worriedly, reaching into her sweater pockets. “Why didn’t you say so? I’ve got plenty of snacks left—ooh, I haven’t even finished off half the corn dogs in my corn dog pocket!”

She fished out a fully-cooked corndog and held it up with a flourish, causing Dipper to raise an eyebrow. “You have a corndog pocket in that thing?”

“I’ve even got one that doubles as a cooler for soda,” she said, patting the other side of her sweater. “I told you I was set for the day.”

“Alright, alright, forget Bill and the bunker for a sec,” Stan said. “You’re gonna get some food in your body first, Sixer.”

“Stanley—”

“No Stanleys, pal,” Stan insisted. “You’re not gonna get anywhere near catching him again if you keep on going the way you are now.”

Ford stared hard into the face that mirrored his own—just as he had done many times across the past few days. Into the face of the man he had successfully picked out of the earlier fight with his doppelganger, without having to resort to firing a bullet in him.

“Lemme at least help you by doin’ the one thing I’m actually good at—takin’ a hit for you!”

But the main concern there hadn’t actually been piercing out the real Stan, had it? The main concern had been Stan’s insistence on taking a bullet for him at all—and the reasoning behind said insistence in the first place.

Ford could feel his insides twisting with a mess of emotions—guilt, realization, potentially hunger as his focus passed lazily over the corndog in Mabel’s hands. Did Stan truly think that he’d denied his help because he thought he had failed to stop Bill the first time? Stanley—brave, heroic Stanley who had sacrificed so much more than anyone should sacrifice, thought himself a failure? 

It wasn’t as if Bill’s return had been his fault—and even if by some misfortune it had been his fault, Ford could never bring himself to truly blame Stan for that. Out of anyone in the world, Stanley had to know just how important he was—

“I screwed up like I always do and now you feel like you’ve gotta handle all this Bill stuff by yourself again.”

He…had to know that, right?

“After all the other times I’ve ruined your life in the past, I wouldn’t want my help again either.”

“After all, you are the expert in destroying those who are just trying to help you, aren’t you~?”

Bill’s taunting words from the bunker echoed through his mind as his gaze and palms found the forest floor, nails digging sharply into the topsoil. Loathed as he was to give anything Bill said the time of day, they blurred so neatly, so perfectly with Stanley’s own claims that he could feel his insides twisting further from a sensation that he knew for a fact wasn’t from hunger.

Had his own insistence to keep Stanley away for his own safety truly strengthened that negative view of himself? Further pushed him to think that the only way he could possibly be useful was to take another bullet for someone? All this time he had been trying to protect his brother, but had he simply just made things worse—

“Sixer?”

Ford lifted his head again, eyes once again meeting the features that mirrored his own to a near-perfect degree. Meeting them, before immediately falling back to the ground in a dazed lull as he tried to refocus his vision. As much as he hated to admit it—the rest of his family had a point. He truly was running on less than fumes at this point, and Bill had already escaped his clutches several times over as a result. 

Even if he somehow managed to catch him again in his current state, he no longer had his gun as a failsafe option—with or without all the surrounding partygoers—and there was always a chance that Shifty had destroyed the cryogenic tubes in the bunker before his escape to freedom.

Taking all of that into account alongside his ever growing concerns about Stanley—

“You’re right.”

Stan blinked at him in surprise. “Wh—come again?”

“You’re right,” Ford repeated, lifting his head again. “I’m not going to catch Bill if I keep on going the way I am. I need you to take charge of this situation for me.”

“Wh—” Stan started, taking a confusing look around him as if he half-expected Ford to be talking to someone else. “Okay, I know what I said before, but you’ve gotta be delirious from hunger if you’re seriously expectin’ me to take charge of this whole thing.”

“Even if I was, it’s all the more reason to pass this matter into someone else’s hands,” Ford insisted. “And I can’t think of anyone I trust more to take over for me than you.”

His gaze shifted to the younger twins, a worn smile tugging at his lips as he stared at Mabel. “Well, you and the kids, of course. After all, a braided rope is stronger than a singular rope, isn’t it?”

Mabel’s expression lit up as she dug out a roll of streamers with her free hand. “Yeah! Braids solve every problem!”

“Not that I don’t think you should take a break or anything, because I do,” Dipper said, holding up a finger.  “But, uh—are you sure you want us to take over for you, Grunkle Ford? I mean, we don’t even have a plan on how to catch Bill yet.”

“Kid’s got a point, Ford,” Stan added. “Plus I can’t promise it’ll go as smoothly as it would if you were the one leadin’ the charge.”

His expression fell. “Can’t even promise that we’ll be able to catch the little bugger.”

“It can’t turn any worse than how I’ve handled things so far,” Ford pointed out. “Under my lead, I’ve managed to lose hold of him and unleash a shapeshifting monster onto the town.”

He reached a shaky hand towards his brother’s and gave it a tight squeeze. “And…even if you do somehow manage to beat me in that regard, I will never regret turning to you for help in the first place, Stanley.”

Stan’s hand lingered in place for a moment—and Ford could almost feel it squeezing his in return—before he finally retracted it with a gruff laugh. “Hey, come on, Poindexter—what’d I tell you about gettin’ all sappy and makin’ the squirts wanna blow chunks on their first day back?”

While Dipper and Mabel exchanged looks of amusement on the side, Ford simply cast him a weak smile. “You realize that it’s now their second day back, don’t you?”

“Then that just means they’ll blow twice as many chunks!” Stan countered with a low cackle of his own. “And if they’re too busy blowin’ all those chunks, then they’re gonna be too busy to help me with Bill wrangling!”

“We’ll never be too busy for that, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel said delightedly, gripping both corndog-stick and streamer roll alike with a look of determination. “We’re gonna catch him if it’s the last thing we d—oh, uh, wait, we still need to come up with a plan on how to do that first, don't we?”

“We do,” Ford said, pulling himself into a sitting position. “And there’s no time like the present for us to start.”

“Bup, bup, bup—” Stan said with a warning snap of his fingers. “If you’re puttin’ me in charge of this mission, then I’m orderin’ you to leave us in charge of the thinking while you go ahead and get some food in your belly. Mabel, corndog.”

With a serious nod, Mabel held out the corndog towards Ford. “Let me know if you want anything else,” she said, patting the front of her sweater once again. “I’ve got this puppy loaded with just about every snack you can think of! Mom says I save our family a bundle in snacks every time we go to the movies!”

“Just the corndog’s fine for now, Mabel,” Ford assured her, before raising it slowly to his mouth for a bite—

—one that admittedly made his smile falter. “Oh, that’s…an interesting flavor.”

“Yeah, even when we’re saving a bundle, Mom still goes for the generic ones instead of name brand,” Mabel explained.

“Generic or not, you’re gonna eat it anyway,” Stan ordered.

“Never said I wasn’t,” Ford reassured him with another bite.

While the rest of his family conversed, Dipper cast another thoughtful look back out at the party guests. Specifically the Meat Table, where Mayor Tyler was cheering on its inhabitants from beneath one of Manly Dan’s massive arms—seconds before Soos strolled into view with a barrel of freshly-brewed meat.

Dipper stared at Soos for a moment, then back to Mayor Tyler, and finally down at his own hands. Hands he had used to grab Bill’s wrist earlier. Hands he had also used to yank Bill down on his face.

Hands with fingers, ones he slowly touched to his own arm, then face, before finally forming another triangle shape with his fingers—

“Hey, I…might have an idea,” he said aloud. “It’s a super risky one and would go against Ford’s original request to keep Bill’s existence under wraps as much as possible.”

A shrug. “But if we succeed, it shouldn’t incite a panic and we should still be able to recapture Bill without anyone catching onto what we’re doing.”

Stan looked to his brother. “Whaddaya say, Sixer?”

“You’re the one in charge now, Stanley,” Ford reminded him. “It’s your call. But I do have one request at least.”

"Oh, here we go," Stan said with a roll of his eyes.

"Promise me you won't do anything reckless to go and hurt yourself."

And suddenly Stan's eyes were back on Ford again, staring hard into his features as if that were the last thing he’d expected to hear. Rather than comment on it, however, he simply pointed to Dipper. "I mean, pretty sure that's up to the guy with the plan," he pointed out. "Can't go promisin' anything if I don't even know what he's got up his sleeve yet."

"He won't do have to do anything reckless," Dipper assured both of them. "And if anything, the only one who'll get hurt is Bill. Plus it’ll probably be really embarrassing for him, which I think is just an added bonus."

"Then I have no objections," Ford said. "I leave this in your capable hands, Stanley."

More staring followed, almost as if Stan expected him to go back on that claim if he waited long enough. And when Ford simply followed up his words with an encouraging nod, he finally turned to Dipper proper. “Alright, kid, lay it on me. Whatever it is, I’m in!”

“Me too! Me too!” Mabel added excitedly. “I wanna help embarrass Bill!”

“I’m happy you say that,” Dipper said, a smile forming as he looked to his hands again. “Because you two are gonna be playing the most important roles…”

— — — — — — —

Despite her earlier protests, Wendy could only hide out in the boat for so long before the call of the party outside eventually beckoned her to join.

Regardless, she did give pause on the deck to scan the crowd for any sign of the Pines family among them. Any sign of that familiar old hat she had plopped on Dipper’s head the year prior, any random bursts of glitter from Mabel, any heads of grey hair from the Stans—

Her gaze landed on the Meat Table, its inhabitants still devouring the spread before them with their usual amount of gusto and chanting. Currently said chants were aimed towards her father at the far end of the table; an overly-sized drumstick clenched tightly in his raised fist and his other arm draped around—

An annoyed scowl made itself at home on Wendy’s face as she stared at Tyler— his usual trademark of “Get ‘em! Get ‘em!” cheered with more enthusiasm than the entire group of Manotaurs combined—before she forced her attention to the rest of the partygoers. Well, at the very least, she now knew where he was, and knew which side of the party she needed to avoid—

“—yeah, no, he was acting super weird, right?”

“I don’t know if I’d say super weird, but regular weird for sure.”

The sound of voices trailing beside the boat made Wendy peer down over the side, where she was greeted by the sight of Candy and Grenda passing by with cups of punch. “Heya, squirts,” she said, folding her arms and leaning over the railing with a grin. “Enjoying the party?”

Both stopped in their path to look up at her, and Grenda’s expression brightened. “Hey, Wendy!” she greeted, waving her arm so passionately that the punch went flying out of her cup. “Where’ve you been?”

“You missed out on one intense Meat Eating Competition!” Candy added, flexing her own arms in such a way that caused her own punch to also spill out onto the ground. “Womanataur never stood a chance against us!”

“Aww, sick,” Wendy said proudly. “You finally won against her?”

“Oh no, we lost real bad,” Grenda clarified. “...We didn’t specify what kind of chance she stood against us.” 

“Thought we might’ve had a shot against Manly Dan, though,” Candy added. “What with him spending half the time going all googly-eyed over Mayor Tyler, and all.”

Despite her scowl threatening to return, Wendy ignored it in favor of giving the girls an amused wink. “Eh, don’t sweat it too much, you two will get a win one day,” she assured them. “And to answer your question from before, I’ve been up here on the boat. Needed to get away from all the weirdness for a bit.”

“Ugh, don’t I KNOW it?” Grenda agreed with a gruff sigh. “I swear, getting this much of the town together in one spot has to, like…mess with the air or something and make everything even more weird than it already is!”

She placed a hand on her hip. “At least, we’re pretty sure that’s what happened to Dipper.”

Wendy tilted her head curiously. “Dipper? What happened to him exactly?”

“Well, everything was fine when we talked to him earlier,” Candy explained. “He had that usual amount of anxiety and cryptic-ness that only Dipper Pines could provide.”

“You know the amount, you get it,” Grenda added.

“But then when he raced past us over by the punch bowl, he was laughing to himself and talking all strange,” Candy continued, touching her free hand to her head. “Also his hair was blonde, for some reason?

“And he was dressed up in a yellow-and-black tux,” Grenda pointed out with a look of confusion. “Dunno why he picked yellow, though, it’s soooo not his color. Mabel’s the twin with the right complexion for bright colors for SURE!”

“They look much better on her,” Candy agreed, before her eyes lit up. “Ooh, you know what it might’ve been? Maybe it was part of the surprise he was talking about earlier? The one with Dr. Pines and Mabel that he couldn’t say much about?”

“Augh, that would make perfect sense!” Grenda agreed, tossing her hands in the air and spilling the last of her cup’s contents out onto the grass. “That lying jerk, telling us he had no idea what they were up to when he knew all along!”

“Maybe he was respecting the element of surprise,” Candy pointed out.

Wendy’s expression stiffened with a mix of realization and annoyance. A blonde-haired Dipper in a yellow-and-black tux running past them and acting all weird?

…Yeah, so there was a high chance that something had gone wrong over at the bunker. Which probably meant that Bill was now wandering around the party somewhere and the Pines were hauling tail back to the Shack to try and recapture their escaped prisoner.

She glanced out at the crowd again. And if they weren’t here already, they were probably going to need someone to be their eyes in the meantime.

“Aw, who cares about Dipper and his secrets?” she heard Grenda say below. “Come on, Candy, let’s go refill our punch before those old-timey ghosts pull their ‘expired juice’ prank.”

“You know you can say they’re spiking the punch, right? Because they are.”

“Yeah, just still feels kinda weird that I can say that now.”

Wendy caught the girls hurrying back towards the crowd out of the corner of her eye, before she pulled out her cell phone—

—and as if right on cue, a series of text from Dipper popped up on her screen:

[Dr. Fun Times: Sending out a mass text to everyone still at the shack: Bill escaped and is somewhere on the premises.] [Dr. Fun Times: It’s a long story on how he got there, but Mabel, Stan, Ford and I are gathered at the edge of the forest near the shack.]

Another text joined the conversation, this time from Mabel:

[Unicorn Punisher: We’ve got a plan to catch him, but we’re gonna need some help getting eyes on him before we can put it into action!]

[Bossman: So you need us to keep our eyes peeled, in an ironic twist on HIS weird, all-seeing-eye thing that he has going on??] Soos added a few seconds later.

[Dr. Fun Times:  You got it, Soos.]

[Bosswoman: We’re on it, Dipper. Wendy, I see you in the group, are you able to help out?]

Melody’s question prompted Wendy to mash out a quick reply:

[Wendy: Waaaay ahead of you guys on that one. Caught wind from Candy and Grenda that they saw a blonde-haired ‘Dipper’ run past them earlier.]

[Dr. Fun Times: Ugh, GREAT.] [Dr. Fun Times: It’s bad enough he LOOKS like me, now other people are starting to think he’s ACTUALLY me?]

[Unicorn Punisher: I mean, isn’t that important for your plan?]

[Dr. Fun Times: Yeah, but I don’t have to LIKE it.]

[Bosswoman: Like Soos said, we can keep an eye on the crowd for him. Anything else you need?]

[Unicorn Puncher: Uhhh, the Shrink-and-Span! And the Manotaur’s stage!]

[Bosswoman: I can get both from storage, and have guests clear out a space for the stage.] [Bosswoman: I assume you’re going to regrow it to its usual size?] [Bosswoman: Assume with only a fraction of certainty; I’ve quickly learned to expect the unexpected with this town.]

[Unicorn Punisher: No, no, you got it right the first time!!!] [Unicorn Punisher: We’re about to give this party and Bill a surprise they’re NEVER gonna forget!!!]

[Dr. Fun Times: Thanks again for the idea, Soos, it’s really saving our butts!]

[Bossman: You’re welcome, dude!] [Bossman: What idea was that again?]

[Dr. Fun Times: You’ll see soon enough.]

[Bossman: Works for me! Soos Search And Locate Freaky Triangle Dude, go!]

[Bosswoman: I’ll get what you need and be waiting by the gift shop door.]

[Wendy: Keep an eye out for the little jerk performing identity theft, got it.]

With that, she tucked her phone back into her pocket and cast one last look out over the crowd, this time in the hopes of spotting any telltale signs of black and yellow—

—just in time to see a flash of blonde hair dart beneath the very dirty tablecloth on the Meat Table.

Narrowing her eyes, she hopped straight over the boat railing and landed with a hard thud on the ground below. Ugh, great—he had to go and pick the one table she was trying to avoid.

Eh, maybe she’d get lucky and the little creep would so get freaked out by the sound of fists slamming on the table, that he’d book it outta there before she got closer. 

— — — — — — —

The good news for Bill was that it looked like his plan to lose the kids in the crowd had worked.

The only issue with that was the size of the crowd itself.

Yeesh, Question Mark’s little girlfriend hadn’t been kidding when she said they were having a party! Felt like everyone and their six-footed, googly-eyed grandma now crowded the grounds of the Mystery Shack.

BANG! “Meat Table!” BANG! “Meat Table!” BANG! “Meat table!”

Speaking of which…

Bill cast a glare upwards at the table he was crouched beneath, one that shook with every pound of a fist from the Manotaurs crowded around it. Not the quietest hiding spot in the world, but maybe the gang of massive meat fanatics would be enough to keep the Pines family at a distance.

Still, he couldn’t hide here forever. 

He peered out from beneath the meat-stained tablecloth and looked towards the roof of the shack. The bird he’d been tailing before had settled up there, right next to a woodpecker and a couple of Eyebats. A sight that brought a frown to Bill’s face as they scanned the crowd with innocent curiosity, as opposed to their past behavior of turning any moving beings into petrified statues. Somebody must’ve found a way to placate them during his absence, or had a large supply of eyedrops on hand to keep them mellowed out. Traitors, the lot of them!

Eh, at least sneaking up to the roof would be easier without the threat of re-statue-i-fication looming over him in the process.

After a quick look around, Bill darted out from beneath the table and hurried towards the shack’s nearby storm drain—one that was conveniently within reach of the nearby metal awning. And after a quick hope that his stupid noodle arms had at least enough strength left to climb, he grasped it with both hands and began his ascent up the side of the building—

“Hey!”

—his quick ascent as he heard a voice call out behind him. He didn’t bother looking back, just kept his focus on getting to the top before whoever had spotted him could get to him first.

Sure enough, he felt a rush the air pass his foot caused by the sensation of a hand just barely missing its grasp on him as he scrambled up and onto the awning to safety. Once he knew he was properly out of harm’s way, he finally cast a glance down at his attempted assailant—mouth spreading into a wide grin at the sight of flannel and a familiar pine tree hat atop a head of red hair. “Well hey there, Red! Enjoying the party?”

“Save it, pal,” Wendy called up to him, eyes narrowed. “And get your three-sided butt back down here before I climb up there after you. Pretty sure you know I can and will do it, too.”

“Once again, it must be a night where people think asking me to do something I don’t want to do is going to make me comply,” Bill taunted, hands cutely tucked under his chin. “I’d say it’s funny how dumb you all are, but really, it’s just getting redundant now. Come on, gimme something new.”

“Oh, I’ll give you something new—”

She balled up her fists and gave her knuckles a crack, giving Bill the incentive to hop to his feet and scramble further up towards the roof. With a huff, she made a dash for the nearby porch to scramble up the railing and follow after him.

Before she could pull herself up and onto it proper, however—

“There you are, Wendy!”

Her mouth fell into an annoyed scowl as a nearby voice called to her from behind, one that lowered further as she turned around and saw Tyler approaching from the Meat Table. “Been looking all over for you!” he said delightedly. “Great party, isn’t it?”

“Super,” Wendy replied in a deadpan voice while she returned her attention back to the railing. “Can’t talk right now though, Tyler, I’ve got something to deal with. Official Mystery Shack business or whatever—”

“Oh! Well, that’s alright,” he said, cheery tone wavering the slightest amount. “Just wanted to stop and say hello—”

“Wendy!”

The sound of another voice from her right once again gave Wendy pause from her current task, although her expression did brighten at the sight of Stan and Mabel approaching them. “We~ell, if it isn’t Stan and Mabel Pines!” Tyler said with delight. “And here I was starting to think you Pineses were deliberately trying to miss your own welcome back party!”

Mabel pressed a solemn hand to the front of her sweater. “Mayor Tyler, I would never miss a party—welcome back or otherwise—of my own accord! Who do you think I am?”

“My feelings vary by event, but I got a good reason for bein’ so scarce ‘til now,” Stan added, with a look to Wendy. “In fact, that’s why Mabel and I are here. Need to talk to Wendy about the uh—the thing we’ve got planned for tonight.”

“The thing!” Wendy agreed, pointing a finger at them. “Yeah, I know the thing. In fact, I was just on my way up the roof to take care of the thing.”

While she made an obvious motion with her pupils towards the top of the roof, Tyler clapped his hands together in excitement. “Oh~hoh, the thing, you say? That thing wouldn’t happen to be the big, mysterious surprise that’s been keeping most of you Pines away from all the fun this evening, would it?”

“It sure is!” Mabel said, and held up a finger. “And while it’s not finished yet, we should have everything ready to go very soon! So go spread the mayor-ly word to everyone about gathering on the other side of the shack for the big surprise!”

“Just make sure they stay outta the way of the exhibits area,” Stan added. “That’s where we’re gonna be setting up the stage.”

“The stage?” Tyler repeated with delight. “Ooh, this really is gonna be quite the surprise, isn’t it~?”

He gave a whimsical little wave to Wendy. “Sorry for dashing so quickly, Wendy, but duty calls—”

“No need to apologize, just go,” she quickly assured him.

With that, he turned and hurried off with a spring in his step—leaving the three of them to watch him go in silence. A silence that was quickly broken by Wendy with a: “Triangle’s climbing the roof, was about to follow after him when Tyler showed up. Catch him and meet you guys over there for whatever you’re planning?”

“You got it,” Stan confirmed with a nod.

“Good luck, Wendy!” Mabel said with a thumbs up. “See you there!”

With a thumbs up of her own, she pulled herself up onto the railing and finally made a reach for the awning above. Leaving the two of them below as Mabel whipped out her phone again. “Gonna let Dipper and Grunkle Ford know that Wendy’s hot on the target's trail.”

“Of course the little jerk would try scalin’ the roof,” Stan muttered with a roll of his eyes. “Big man’s always gotta be towerin’ over everything, huh? Desperate for everyone else’s eyes to be on him…”

“Hehe, well, he’s gonna have allllll the eyes on him once we’re ready,” Mabel said, casting a cheeky grin up at him. “Isn’t he?”

Stan returned her grin with one of his own. “You know it, Pumpkin! C’mon, let’s go find Melody.”

— — — — — — —

Bill knew it was only a matter of time before Wendy made her way onto the roof after him. If he wanted that piece of Birdbrain’s puzzle, he had to move and move quickly.

And move quickly was exactly what he did—roof tiles slipping down the side as he bounded across them like stones on a river, in a mad dash for the bird that waited atop the brightly-decorated sign.

As he approached, most of the gathered beings took off in a rush—the Eyebats fluttering out of place and into the air and giving Bill pause to shake his fist in their direction. “What the heck are you irised idiots doing, getting all cozy and domestic in some backwoods town?! Go turn a baby into stone or something!”

One of the Eyebats narrowed itself at him, seconds before a burst of energy erupted from its cornea towards him and giving him barely enough time to dodge. “ACK! Not me, not me!”

More tiles shifted as he dodged another attack, but luckily the Eyebat didn’t attempt a third and simply fluttered off after the others into the night. With an exhale of relief, Bill’s gaze moved back towards the bird still situated on the sign—one that had somehow remained despite the chaos around it.

Luck continued to be on his side, for the bird had been far too distracted with pecking at one of the nearby streamers to pay any attention to him. And distracted it remained until Bill grasped a hand around its throat, a strangled caw of surprise escaping the poor bird as he drew it closer with a proud flourish. “Hehe, looks like a bird in the hand really is worth more than just two in the bush!”

Despite the bird’s frantic wriggling in an attempt to free itself, Bill managed to wrestle the piece out of its talons. He did earn himself several scratches to his hand in the process, but if a straight-up bullet to the brain wasn’t enough to kill him, then potentially catching Cryptococcosis was of little concern to him.

And once the mysterious object of gold was clutched safely in his hand, he raised it to the sky to investigate further.

Now that he could get a clear look at it, there was no doubt in his mind that it was one of Birdbrain’s charm pieces. The colors of the surrounding party danced across its golden surface, giving it an otherworldly shine. And on top of that, Bill could feel a familiar, confusing warmth from within the charm piece. An odd, almost alive pulsing that spread from his fingertips to the rest of his body as he gripped it tightly in his hand.

Almost as tightly as he continued to grip the bird's neck, a shark peck from its beak to his arm finally enough pain for him to release it into the night sky.

Whatever, who needed some stupid bird when he’d gotten what he’d scaled the roof for in the first place?

“Cipher!”

Right, he still had one other problem to deal with.

After tucking the piece of the charm into his pocket, he backed up towards the edge of the sign platform just as Wendy pulled herself onto it from the other side. “I’d say I appreciate you giving me a chance to get away from the crowd,” she said. “But catching you after you keep wriggling out of everyone’s grasp is really starting to get old.”

She flashed him a condescending grin. “Come on, jerkface, it’s your turn to gimme something new.”

“Throwing my own words back at me, Red?" he asked with a smug wink. “I’m flattered, but I’ll have you know that unlike the body I resemble—I’m not so easily smitten by a redhead in flannel.”

Wendy gave him a flat look and began to crack her knuckles again. “...Yeah, alright, first of all: I’m going to break your legs. Second of all, I’m going to break your arms.”

“Ah, ah, wait—” Bill started quickly, taking another step backwards. “Don’t forget Fordsy’s little rule of not killing me!”

Hey, if Wendy wasn’t aware of what happened down in the bunker, he wasn’t about to go and spill the beans. Especially if it prevented her from kicking his ass from here to the other side of the valley. Just because it wouldn’t kill him didn’t mean he was interested in dealing with levels of pain that intense. Yet.

“Who said I was going to kill you?” It was her neck’s turn to get cracked. “I said I was gonna break your arms and legs. You can easily survive that, but you’ll probably wish you hadn’t.”

Son of a—

Bill’s foot met air as he tried taking one more step backwards and he went tumbling down the other side of the roof with a yelp, barely managing to grab onto the gutter before he could fall—

—only for the gutter to give way in seconds, sending him the rest of the way down to the waiting ground below with a hard thump.

The impact hurt, but nothing felt broken as Bill pulled himself up with a drawn-out groan and a nasty look towards—

—the dozens and dozens of people around him, all staring him down with looks of curiosity and wonder.

Sure enough, it felt like every party guest’s attention had fully locked onto him as he slowly rose himself to his feet. While he was more familiar with being the one to do the ogling, Bill was no stranger to being ogled at himself. If anything, he relished being treated like some kind of sideshow circus oddity or incomprehensible eldritch horror in his usual triangle form.

Being stared down in this small, pathetic human vessel, however? He was staring to feel like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar. The subject of everyone’s attention, but in the most unenjoyable way possible.

Which was, obviously, no fun at all and an issue he neede to rectify immediately.

Alright, Cipher, time to think fast! The majority of the townsfolk had only seen him in his glorious, triangle form—and that same majority probably had no idea about his ability to possess people. He just had to play things cool, get out of sight before the rest of the Pines caught wind of his location—

His left hand subtly shifted to his pocket where the piece of Tangy’s charm lay hidden as a smile threatened his lips. Hmm, counterpoint: he had the first piece of the charm that he needed. If he announced his return, it would potentially incite a panic big enough for him to either sneak off into the night undetected.

Either that or it angered them so much that they took a page out of Ford’s book and tore him to pieces—which would eventually result in him popping back to normal and sneaking off into the night undetected.

Either way, it guaranteed an escape. And much like his original plan back in the woods, at least one of the options came with the added bonus of leaving a few folks with some lifelong trauma! Yay!

“Haha, how’s everyone doing tonight~?” he asked, tossing his arms in the air with gusto. “Havin’ a good time at your little shindig? Little hurt that you didn’t invite me of all people~!”

He pressed a hand to his chest with a wicked grin. “Although I guess any party’s gonna pale in comparison to the one I threw for you suckers last year~!”

A wicked laugh bubbled out of him, resulting in a tidal wave of gasps from the surrounding crowd. Bill’s smile widened as he braced himself for either the sound of frantic screaming, or the sensation of being beaten to death by an angry mob. He wondered what kind of tools or weapons the townsfolk use in this specific instance; he knew the Falls population was often drawn to the usual ‘pitchfork and torch’ approach, but the surrounding party embellishments might allow them to get a bit more creative—

“Aww, isn’t that adorable? Dipper’s gone and dressed himself up in a funny little Bill Cipher costume!”

…Wait, what?

The remark from somewhere in the crowd earned a series of affectionate sounds from the rest of the partygoers, and Bill blinked several times in stunned confusion. “Who’s done what now?”

“Aww, look at his little suit!” Tyler cooed with delight. “Why, this must be the surprise that the Pines family was planning!”

“Oh, that explains the blonde hair and the yellow!” Grenda piped up, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I was wondering, and now I know!”

“Told you so,” Candy added with a grin.

“That’s right, everyone~!”

An arm was slung across his shoulder before Bill had time to react, knees buckling slightly from the impact as he turned to see Mabel standing beside him. “And there’s more to the surprise than just some silly outfit!” she continued with a grin. “While Dipper’s wearing this outfit, him and Grunkle Stan are going to do a recreation of Bill’s defeat—just so everyone here can get a chance to see Bill Cipher getting punched in his stupid, triangle face~!”

…Second verse, same as the first—wait, what?

Actually, no, he was saying that out loud—”Wait, what?!”

“And now it’s your turn to be right, Mabel!”

Bill was suddenly scooped up into the air by a much larger hand, and he turned his head to see Stan standing before the crowd with a familiar, scheming grin on his face. “I mean, the only one who got to see the little bastard get his lights punched out was me, right? Seems only fair that you folks get to see it too, right? …For te—twenty bucks a person, obviously.”

A beat. “Make it thirty…plus ten!”

There was a scattered murmuring of agreement amongst the crowd as Stan stared making his way through them, Bill still clutched tightly in one hand while money was placed in the other. “That’s right, keep it coming.”

As the townsfolk hooted and hollered with delight, Bill cast a glare at their surrounding faces. “Are you nerve-driven flesh mounds really that dense? There’s no way you people are stupid enough to fall for such an obvious lie!”

Despite his insults, the audience still seemed to eat it up as Stan approached the waiting stage at the edge of the property. “Aww, listen to him!” one audience member cheered, hands clasped to their cheeks. “He’s even got the attitude down to a T!”

“Normally, the thought of Bill Cipher’s return would be quite the cause for alarm,” Preston Northwest added. “But when it’s the little Pines boy in a ridiculous costume, well—that’s just downright humorous!”

"Indubitably," Priscilla added with a haughty laugh.

“He’s really keeping in-character!” one of the Manotaurs agreed loudly. “It strengthens the illusion! And strength is GOOD!”

While the rest of the herd slammed their fist on the table with hearty agreement, Bill stared in disbelief. “They’re really that stupid…”

“Don't tell me you're actually surprised by that one,” Stan muttered quietly.

Bill crossed his arms defeatedly across his chest as they headed up the stage’s steps. “No, no you’re right—that’s my fault for expecting any sort of intelligence out of them.” 

Voice still low, he raised an eyebrow at Stan. “So, which one of you Pineses came up with this whole idea? I can’t imagine Fordsy would be too keen about you flaunting me in front of the entire town.”

“Psh, shows how much you know, pal,” Stan replied. “As for who came up with the idea…why don’t you take a look in the mirror?”

Stan gestured subtly towards the curtain at the back of the stage, and Bill cast a look towards a thin crack between them to the sight of Dipper and Ford—the former casting him a smug grin complete with a lewd hand gesture.

“Aww, isn’t he just the cutest in his little tuxedo?” Lazy Susan piped up. “It almost makes me not want to see Stan punch him in the face! ...Almost~!”

“Oh, well, it’s great that you say that, Susan!” Soos said from the middle of the stage, microphone in hand. “‘Cause the entire surprise is ruined if you folks don’t wanna see the hit!”

“Come on, party people!” Mabel added excitedly. “Don’t tell me you wanna miss out on seeing Stan give Bill another black eye!”

This got a bout of enthusiastic cheers from the partygoers and Stan flashed Bill a grin. “Better grit your teeth this time, wise guy.”

“Don’t you da—ACK!”

Bill’s order felt on deaf ears as Stan’s fist collided with his face, the force of the hit sending him through the air, and hitting the hard stage a few feet away.

Naturally, the audience clapped and cheered with delight, as Stan flexed an arm with pride. “That’s right, I still got it~! Now pay up, I know for a fact some of you yahoos are tryin' to stiff me! And while I respect it, I ain’t about to let it slide!”

While the audience tossed their money at Stan with enthusiastic abandon, Bill let out a pained and irritable groan as he pulled himself up with his hands, barely having time to react before someone else grabbed him with a: “Thanks a lot, folks! Hope you enjoyed our little recreation!” and began to pull him through the stage curtain.

With a wince from the pain that was once again swelling around his eye, Bill cast a dirty look up at Ford. “You’d better hope none of those idiots noticed just how real that looked,” he warned. “Might be bad news for dear old Stanley if rumors started going around that he gives his precious great nephew black eyes for profit.”

“It would be,” Dipper piped up from Ford’s side. “If I wasn’t about to do this!”

With that, he hurried out to the other side of the curtain, and the audience roared with applause. “Haha, yeah, thanks so much, everyone! Yeah, that was…that was fun, right? We have fun here.”

“Yeah, give it up for the kid!” Stan added. “Ain’t he talented? …So talented, in fact, that praisin’ him’s gonna cost another ten!”

As the audience continued to cheer from the other side, several more folks—Soos and Mabel to be exact—ducked back behind the stage’s curtain to join Ford. “I think it worked!” Mabel said delightedly.

“That was such a good idea, dudes!” Soos added. “It’s like…we wanted to keep Bill’s return a secret, and now we’re still keepin’ it a secret because they think he’s actually Dipper!”

He made an explosion sound next to his head. “Like, boom: Mind. Blown!”

“Yeah, Dip really outdid himself with this one,” Stan added as both he and Dipper ducked behind to rejoin them. “Thanks for bitin’ the bullet on that one, kid. Probably wasn’t easy to see a guy who looks like you gettin’ socked in the face.”

“No bullets bitten whatsoever,” Dipper said proudly. “It’s not like I’m taking the hit myself.”

“Oh, well—aren’t you so clever for putting this much thought into such a mediocre party trick?” Bill asked bitterly as he dangled in Ford’s grasp. “I wouldn’t expect a call from Daniel Raine anytime soon, though, Pine Tree. Pretty sure even a kindergartener could come up with something like that.”

“You’re just mad because it worked!” Mabel said proudly.

“It probably helped that you went and ran your mouth as much as you did after falling off the roof,” Stan said, smug grin returning as he gave Bill’s arm a nudge. “Heh, still can’t resist the chance to try and be the big man in charge, eh, Cipher?”

Bill could only glare at him with a burning rage that was sure to be turning his face red, as Wendy also joined the group behind the curtain. “Melody’s getting the crowd back into regular party mode,” she explained. “So we’ve probably got at least a few minutes before someone comes poking around the other side of the stage to investigate how you did your little swap act.”

She gave a thumbs up. “By the way, that was awesome!”

“Sounds like got just as much time to get this jerk outta sight as quick as possible, then,” Stan added, and held out a hand. “I’ll go stick him in the Shack until the party’s over—gift shop side should still be cleared out enough if I run and use the woods as a cover. Unless you’re feelin’ up to the task, Sixer?”

“You know, I think I’ve dealt with enough of Bill for tonight,” Ford added. “You take care of him for now, Stanley. Soos, the rope?”

Bill could feel his face getting hotter from a mix of rage and humiliation as he was passed from one twin’s hand to the other, once again with as much ease as passing a small kitten from one hand to another. Only this time around, Bill couldn’t even find it in himself to be as smug as before while Ford retied a rope around his body, once again tightening it with just as much spite as he had possessed earlier in the day. In fact, Bill was finding it a struggle to be truly smug about anything as he was once against clutched like a sack of luggage in Stan’s fist and lead back towards the dark wood that waited just a few feet from the stage—

“Grunkle Stan, wait!”

Stan paused at the sound of Mabel’s voice behind him, and Bill was spun back around to the sight of her hurrying towards them. “I’ve been waiting to say this to Bill all day!”

She held a fist to her mouth to clear her throat, then pointed a finger at him with a fierce expression. “Get pranked, dumbass!”

Behind her, the rest of the group melted into amusement—Dipper nudging her with a laugh while Wendy plapped the top of her head with a proud: “Nice one, Mabel!”

And with a laugh of his own, Stan gave her a thumbs up before turning both of them back to the forest that waited ahead. Leaving Bill to stew in that one last insult to injury as the party raged on behind him.

No doubt in his mind at that point, he definitely would’ve thrown a better one.

[mortallyshamelessgiver]

Kiss Land

Ellie x reader

I wrote this listening to weeknds Kissland and this song inspired this story

The whole of Jackson had noticed the shifted atmosphere since Joels death. It wasn’t hard to notice how Tommy had basically locked himself away and refused any help. No one knew what was happening behind those closed doors.

The same happened with Ellie, except she was not as good as hiding with what was happening behind those doors. Everyone had noticed.

She had taken 2 weeks off of patrolling duty and every week she had started to look more tired and gotten more aggressive.

It didn’t take her long to stop talking to people she didn’t know, her introvert traits growing more dominant. But it was more worrying, when she had stopped talking to her friends and cut all contact to the outside world.

Well, not all. She was still linking up with all kind of women, and the only one she would talk to was you.

At first you had so naively thought she was talking to you because you were special, maybe she liked you because you and her had been so close?

Even an idiot would have realized the only reason Ellie had kept contact with you was because of the free “painkillers” and sleeping drugs you had been giving her, for free.

Why did you stay with her? Well an idiot wouldn’t have figured that out. You loved her but more importantly she was giving you just the right amount of attention for you to not be able to pull away.

“See? All stitched up!”

You told the boy that was lying in the hospital bed, after an accident that had happened during his patrolling.

“That girl is crazy! If I hadn’t been there the chick would have been dead.”

He said grunting slightly. Your eyes snapped towards him as you washed your bloody hands.

“Who?”

A dry chuckle escaped his throat.

“Ellie, since Joels death she has been crazy to deal with, always attempting suicide missions. I get it he died but that was months ago. It’s her fault I got hurt… Maria needs to teach that girl some responsibility”

Your gaze hardened as you looked at him. You dried your hands and walked to him.

“Responsibility? Like you have?”

He tilted his head slightly.

“I’ve been working here long enough to recognize a hangover. Maybe next time don’t drink as much the night before maybe then will you be able to avoid mistakes like these”

You had slipped yourself some sleeping pills before ending your shift and made your way to Ellies cabinet.

It was summer, so even tho it had been late the sun had only started to set a few minutes ago.

Dusk was your favorite time of the day. You felt at peace walking down the already so familiar streets of Jackson, in the warm summer air.

You were twisting the small plastic bag, with the pills in it, between your fingers as you neared Ellies cabin. You heard muffled talking comming from the inside which made you wonder who could be in there.

You opened the door and your eyes slightly widened at the sight infront of you.

Cat, an ex girlfriend of Ellie was sitting on her bed laughing at something Ellie had said. Ellie was leaning against her desk with a glass of what seemed to be whiskey in her hand.

Ellies eyes drifted over to you but then back at Cat. They both acknowledged your presence, but ignored it. Your heart ached slightly and your lips couldn’t help but turn downward into a frown.

You abruptly turned to leave the way you came in, but Ellie had called out your name, which made you turn around.

“Hm?” You hummed and she raise her eyebrow.

“Didn’t you come here to leave me… the things?” She asked awkwardly which made you breath out the anger, that was building in your chest.

You threw the plastic bad at her, with her quick reflexes she caught it nonchalantly, right before it hit her. She raised her eyebrow at your action.

“Is that all I am good for now? First, you shut us all out completely! Refusing to let us help you, pretending you still care just so I do all your dirty work: Keeping your job for you and delivering you drugs and these stupid bottles!”

Your voice had been laced with a hurtful and mad tone. You had slammed the rest of the pills on her table and glared at her. She was looking right back at you, her gaze slowly hardening. Without even looking at Cat she had told her to leave.

A small tear was about to fall down your eye but you rolled your eyes and turned back to the direction of the door.

“You’re not going anywhere!” Ellie had told you roughly but you had ignored her, stepping out the door right after Cat. Before you could leave, she had grabbed you by the arm and pulled you back into her cabin and abruptly closed the door.

“Let me out!” You told her but she shook her head.

“No!”

You tried to push her away but she grabbed you by the wrist and held you in place. Feeling trapped you immediately tried to release her grip off you.

“Stop! Stop it!” She had told you in a angry but calm tone and let you go.

“For too long have I let you use me.”

“Dina, Jesse everyone left because I did not give them a reason to stay. I didn’t give you a reason either, but you decided to stay anyway. I never asked you to!”

Ellie spat back at you, and it felt like your heart was being squeezed. It was so painful you couldn’t breath normally.

“Then get out of my way and let me leave now…. Please.”

Without hesitation, she moved out of the way and left you standing at the door, looking like an idiot.

She walked to the pills you had provided for her, popped one, and poured it down with some whiskey. She lit a joint and walked to her bed.

Like a fool you had been watching her.

“I am worried about you”

You said quietly and she couldn’t help but let out a scoff.

“I don’t care about you, why are you worried about me?”

Wow. Without saying anything you had left and smashed the door shut.

You hated her in that moment and for many more weeks to come.

You had not checked up on her once in those weeks, the pain of her words had sunk in and left you hurt.

But you needed more.

Pain was everything that made you… feel. You had been hurt, when she had said those things to you. And whenever you needed to feel anything, you were thinking back to her words.

And her? What was happening with Ellie. As much as she tried, she could not love or care for you. Mentally, she wasn’t ready.

But she craved you.

She was never really alone, not with all the people she would wake up to. But she felt alone, no-one would be there to annoy her, no-one would check up on her, tie up her hair, cook her warm foods or scold her.

She hated being alone.

You had been working in the “ER” stitching up some guys wound. You had been numb for days now. The days had passed and you hadn’t even realized it. It seemed like life just stood still.

But then you saw Ellie walking in.

Maria had dragged her in and sat her down in one of the hospital beds.

Ellie wasn’t even acknowledging Maria, her eyes had been glued to you just as yours had been glued to her.

You had noticed how tired she looked. Eye-bags, messy hair and her body was slightly shaking.

When Maria came over to you and tried explaining what had happened you couldn’t listen.

Your eyes were glued to her too.

“When was the last time you slept?”

You asked her coldly. She chuckled but there was no real joy behind it.

“I tried everything y’know? But i still can’t sleep at night…”

You nod. Of course she couldn’t. She was going through withdrawals.

“Uh… try drinking water”

You mumble and she looks up at you with pleading eyes.

“Please.”

Your eyes immediately met hers. She was looking at them searching for some glimpse of love you might still have for her.

“I need your pills… please!”

You frowned.

“I’m sorry please… I need to sleep I can’t keep up with this for any longer.”

You had averted your eyes, too pained to look at hers. You pulled out two pills and put it in her hands.

For the next two days you hadn’t heard anything from her, not even Maria had heard from her.

You had started to worry. What if something had happened? Fueled by Guilt and Fear you had made your way over to her cabin after work.

Once you arrived at her doorstep, you heard a familiar tune playing from inside. Had she picked up Joels Guitar?

You pressed down the handle of the door and entered the room. And there you saw her, the big guitar in her arms, her fingers brushing over the chords while looking down at the instrument.

When you had entered the room her gaze had driftet from her guitar to your face. She played the last tone and then put her hand on the strings of the guitar, silencing the melody.

A heavy sigh left your body, your heartbeat quickening in response to her intense gaze.

“How are yo-“

“Thank you!”

You both started at the same time. You pressed your lips together and watched her as she removed guitar from her body and put it on her desk.

“I finally slept again… after days of not being able to do so.”

An uncomfortable silence passed and you squinted your eyes at her and hummed.

“Mh.. congratulations. If that’s all I’ll see myself out.”

“Wait! Let me say something first, please”

Your head tilted to the sight s you let out a slow sigh.

“Listen… I’m trying, hard, to try and care but if I‘m being honest, I‘m not sure if i want to, because everytime someone gets close to me, they die.“

You looked over her face and saw a small frown tug at her lips.

“But I’m scared of being alone and right now the only person that has not left me is you!”

You looked away, feeling guilty for the last weeks.

“And i miss you.”

Your eyes drifted back to her face.

“Ellie, I- “

You bit your tongue holding back what you wanted to say.

Ellie sat back on her bed and leaned her forearms on her thighs looking at you.

“I miss you too, maybe once I even loved you.” You say quietly. Ellie did not seem surprised to your revelation.

“I know.” She said and your jaw slightly dropped. She knew but still did what she did.

You couldn’t help but feel the familiar pang in your chest.

“You always do this… you always hurt me!”

You tell her and she straightens her back.

“And you always stay.”

A cold laugh escaped your throat and you clenched your jaw out of anger.

“Fuck you!”

Ellie stood up from the bed.

“No! You don’t get to be mad at me for this, you knew what I was from the start!”

Your eyes drifted up to her face and you scoffed. “Yeah i did, and I’m an idiot for not leaving!”

You saw her hand form into fists angrily.

“You don’t get to leave me!”

She says as she walks up close to you and looks directly into your eyes.

“You don’t even want me.” You shoot back, your voice full of emotions.

Ellie was so quick with what she did next; she crashed her lips into yours and kissed you roughly. You were surprised at first, but you quickly gained control of the situation. Instead of shoving her away you kissed her back and tilted your head to the side kissing her more passionately.

The kiss was not filled with love, no kt was frustration, anger and need.

She shoved you against the wall, which made you gasp when you collided with the hard wall.

“You think I don’t want you?” She asked you roughly gripping the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head.

Pathetically you did not fight back instead you replied.

“You only want me when you need something!”

She threw you shirt on the floor and a let out a humorless laugh.

“And you only come back when you need to feel something.”

She grabbed your face and kissed you again. You grabbed her arm and pulled her closer to you, your fingernails digging into her skin. She grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to her walking backwards to her bed.

There was no love between you, but it wasn’t just casual like so many girls had been for Ellie. She sat down on the bed and pulled you on her lap, her kiss grew hungrier as her tongue entered your mouth and she started biting your lips.

Her grip on your hips and her bites on your lips got harder which made you whimper in pain.

You pulled away and tasted a metallic taste in your mouth.

“You think I’m using you?” She asked, her voice seemed laced with a sad but angry tone.

“You’re just as fucked as I am!”

She flipped you around on the bed and kissed your bloody lips again, moaning against you when she tasted the blood in her mouth.

Her knee found its way in between your thighs and pushed up which created an oddly pleasurable. You moaned against her lips and she pulled away and looked down at you.

“You need this” she mumbled and pulled away from you, and you noticed how her lips were smeared with your blood as she leaned down again. She cupped your face and pulled you away roughly.

“Say you need me!”

She told you roughly. You layed back, out of breath and looked up at her.

Nothing happened for a few seconds, the only thing keeping you sane was Ellies eyes on yours.

“I need you… but not like this.”

She smirked. You were baffled as you watched her smirk. She unzipped your pants and pulled them down.

You tried to stop her but she pinned down you hands on the bed.

“You crave me like this!” She told you.

“You know it better than I so stop lying to me but more importantly stop lying to yourself.”

She pulled down your jeans and took off her own clothes.

You were staring at her.

“Admit it!”

She told you roughly.

“Fuck you!”

You said again getting angrier at her attitude.

Her smirk didn’t leave her face, instead she leaned in.

“You already are!”

She kissed you hungrily again and undid your hair, letting it fall down your shoulders.

She gripped it and pulled your head back and began biting your neck.

You moaned desperately as her other hand found its way in your panties.

“Huh you dont need me?”

She looked over your chest but she needed you more that moment.

She moved down in between your thighs and moved your panties out of the way, immediately connecting her mouth with your pussy.

You couldn’t help but moan. Your hands found her hair and gripped them tightly. You could feel her getting more aggressive with you, which added to the pleasure at first.

You whimpered in pain soon.

“Ellie stop” you managed to say and she stopped immediately. You bit your lip hardly, brushed some hair out of your face and sat up.

Ellie admired your face for a second. You looked beautiful. She moved towards you again and kissed you.

But it wasn’t love that kept you in her bed, and it wasn’t love for Ellie either. Maybe the love you both once had for each other, which was now all gone, ofcourse and replaced with need, anger and despair.

[sauceytwinkietwinkling]

🤍🖤☔️Rainy Romances☔️🤍🖤

Ugatha Rosenhein x Prof. Puzzles (OC x Canon)

Okay, so finally got around to making a fanfic. I haven’t made a fanfic in a HOT minute, so apologies if my writing is shitty lmaoo.

I got the idea bc it’s really rainy where I’m at, so why not write a fanfic between the two most hated professors in a relationship at GMOD University?

I hope y’all like this. This was also inspired by @frantic-drawer’s fanfic, so I’m using that for reference!

if you don’t like OC x Canon, I recommend that you scroll away.

some characters mentioned belong to @frantic-drawer, who owns NOVA, and @runrabitrunrunrun who owns Nicknack! Go check them out, they’re awesome!

btw, just so there’s no confusion, I’m going to be using @jovialoddity’s human puzzles! Creds to them btw for his human design, as it is not mine.

Now onto the fanfic!!

__________________

Rainy days. Of course it was a rainy day.

Not that Professor Puzzles hated them, he just never really liked how dreary it looked…nor did he like getting wet.

But luckily for him, he could stay inside his home, and unfortunately grade his students sloppy work. Kind of a take-back, but it was better than getting soaked in that horrible weather. At least he was staying dry.

As Puzzles typed away on his computer, he heard his phone buzz beside him. Finally, an opportunity to have a small break from grading. He picked it up, and saw it was a text message.

From his beloved Ugatha.

Puzzles could feel himself smiling already. He knew Ugatha usually slept in when she had a day off, so he was happy to know he could finally talk to her. It was 2:00 in the afternoon after all, and he had been waiting patiently…or at least tried to.

Ugatha 💕: “Hey, what are you up to?”

He typed back,

“Nothing of interest, really. Grading my students work, that is. Not very fun if you ask me. The only good work I’ve had so far is from NOVA and Nicknack.”

Ugatha 💕: “Haha. Who knows, you might have better luck! You can do this, hon.”

“You can do this.”

The words of encouragement he always heard, but he loved to hear from her. Sometimes, he even questioned if he deserved this angel of a woman.

He smiled, before typing,

“Thank you, love. I really do need that.”

Ugatha send a “❤️”. He sent a heart back. Just when he thought she was done, Ugatha sent,

Ugatha 💕: “I just realized it was raining outside, I don’t know how I didn’t notice before, lol”

Puzzles chuckled a bit at that, before he replied,

”Yeah, it is pretty bad outside.”

Ugatha 💕: “Do you think it’s good enough to run around in?”

Puzzles paused at that. Was it safe to go out in. To him, it was a big fat no.

“You can try, but I’m not finding out for you. Be my guest.”

Ugatha 💕: “Alright. Well, I’ll talk to you later, hon. I have an experiment to do.”

Puzzles looked at the message with his crooked eyebrow raised. Experiment? She made it sound like something a mad scientist would say. Oh well, that was Ugatha. Always coming up with ideas.

As he looked away from his phone, he then remembered what he was originally doing before he got distracted. He let out a dreadful sigh, rubbing his temples. He hated this job, but he had to do what he had to do.

He went on, a cycle of doing a double take at some questionable scripts, messily written pitches, and just the overall hellhole of lazy work done by his students. How he wished he could just throw them into a room with Michael Myers…

But, something outside caught his eye that interrupted his little internal moping. He paused in his work, and stood up, walking over to the window to get a better look at what he was seeing.

It was Ugatha. Out in the rain. Dancing and spinning around like a carefree child.

Puzzles was a little bewildered at the sight, but soon his silent, neutral stare turned into a little smile, along with a chuckle escaping his lips.

But then he stopped when he realized something.

She wasn’t even wearing a coat.

All she was wearing was a sweater, a long skirt, and her ballet flats.

Puzzles panicked a little. Ugatha could get a cold, or maybe even frostbite! He hesitated for a moment. He didn’t like the rain, and he also didn’t to get his new clothes wet.

But it was Ugatha he was worried about.

Without another thought, he dashed over to the door, and just snatched a coat from a rack, not even getting himself one. He practically flung the door open, and ran out. He grimaced a bit feeling the rain soak his hair and his skin, but that didn’t matter right now. He’d fuss later.

He quickly ran over to Ugatha, and frantically spoke,

“Ugatha, what on Earth do you think you’re doing out in this dreadful weather?! Y-You could get sick out here—hell, you could get struck by lightning!”

Ugatha just looked at him, a little surprised to see him here, but she huffed a bit. Her voice raised, but no real anger or any signs of agitation in her tone, she replied,

“Well I’m completely fine for your information, and secondly, you’re one to talk! You don’t have a coat either!”

Puzzles sighed. He hated, and adored her stubbornness. Then again, he could be stubborn too. More than her.

“Well, that doesn’t matter. You’ve been out here a little longer than I have, so there.”

He draped the coat around her shoulders, cuing Ugatha to put it on.

Puzzles just stared at her for a minute. Her soft, fluffy hair was wet and sticking to her face, neck, and clothes. Her clothes were soaked. Nonetheless, she looked unbothered and rather calm. He couldn’t help but think despite her state, she looked beautiful…well, she looked beautiful all the time.

Her voice was beautiful.

Her personality was beautiful.

Everything about her was breathtaking.

Ugatha’s voice broke through his thoughts.

“What is it?”

She seemed to have noticed him staring at her. He looked at her, before fixing some of his now wet hair out of his eyes.

“…Nothing, love…you..you look pretty like this.”

This made Ugatha let out a giggle. She held one of his hands, her small fingers and his long fingers intertwining.

“What, is this the part where you tell me your undying devotion for me, and then we kiss like in the books?”

Ugatha teased, playfully nudging his shoulder. Puzzles grinned, letting out a small laugh.

“Well, perhaps that is what happens.”

He cupped her face so delicately, his thumb caressing her cheek, which was showered in raindrops. He leaned in, looking into her eyes.

“…I love you, you crazy woman.”

Just before Ugatha could shoot a teasing reply back, he had already pulled her into a kiss, his hands in her hair, Ugatha wrapping her arms around his neck.

Those two had not a care in the world that they were embedded in the cold, wet weather. For now, they forgot about their worries and stresses, and kissed in the rain, soaking each other in.

♡♡♡

[bentnotbroken1fanfiction]

Sneak Peek of ch 6 of YGTWG

Style’s dad doesn’t look surprised to see him. But that’s not a shock. He’d already seen Kant last night after all. He’s not sure what he told him, but it’s possible he warned him about some of the things that have happened.  

Which could make this whole thing easier….or harder. 

Jay confirms it as soon as the door shuts behind them. “So, I’m going to assume you are here to fill in the blanks that Kant left?” 

“That depends,” Fadel replies, following him to the dining table. “What exactly did he tell you?”

The man gestures for Fadel to take a seat, and when he does he also sits down and begins speaking. “He came here late last night, but didn’t stay for long. He was banged up pretty good, but wouldn’t tell me what happened. He just started talking about how he was blackmailed by a police officer and got Style involved in something shady. He told me that if a Captain by the name of Christ showed up, that I shouldn’t tell him anything about Style…or you. He said I also shouldn’t trust anything he says about you guys, and that if you showed up before Kant had a chance to return with news of Style, that I should listen to what you have to say.”

Fadel is kind of shocked by this news. Kant had warned him about the police officer and hadn’t revealed anything too damning. He had also thought that Fadel would come here and make things right. Which…yeah, Fadel wouldn't have left Style's dad hanging like thst, but for Kant to acknowledge it…well, it means something to Fadel. And he doesn’t like it, but he feels a little bit grateful to the bastard for taking the tome to come here last night,  and for telling Jay to listen to Fadel. It’s going to make this all a bit easier now. 

“Kant was right to warn you and he was also right to think that I would come here.” He begins, “But before I tell you what I came here to say,” he pauses and takes a grounding breath. “I want you to know that I truly and sincerely love your son.”

The man in front of him simply smiles and says. “I know.” 

That throws Fadel for a loop. “You…know?” 

He nods and puts a gentle hand on Fadel’s shoulder. “Son, there are some things you come to learn about life once you’re as old as I am. And one of them is that sometimes, it’s not about the words you say. It’s about your actions and the way you look at someone. And I’ve seen the way you look at my son.”  Fadel’s chest grows tighter with his words. “I can tell that you love him. Maybe even more than he loves you.”

“If he was smarter, he wouldn’t love me at all.” He replies quietly and stands up from the chair, preparing himself for what comes next. 

And now it’s Jay’s turn to look apprehensive. “Why-”

Before he can get the question out, Fadel drops to his knees and wai’s deeply to him. 

“What are you-”

“The reason I’m here right now, and the reason Kant was here, is because Style was taken by a dangerous organization yesterday morning and was seriously injured.” He can tell that he’s about to ask more questions so he barrels on. “And while I wasn’t the one that harmed him, what transpired happened because of his affiliation with me. I don’t expect you to forgive me for this transgression, but I had to come here to explain with my own mouth what happened.” 

His voice sounds panicked when he asks, “What do you mean injured? How bad is it?” 

“The important thing is that he is okay now. His life isn’t in danger. But I’m not going to lie to you.” He finally looks up at Style’s father, because he feels that he needs to look the man in the eye when he tells him this. He deserves that much. “It was really bad. He was beaten and stabbed. They had him for over four hours before I was able to get help to find him and intervene. I got there in time to stop the man that took him and Kant was able to stabilize him enough that we could get him to a doctor in time, but he had to have emergency surgery. Some of his injuries are extensive.”

Jay’s eyes look almost hollowed out and his face is quickly changing from confused worry to anger. “You said he was taken? As in kidnapped? By who? Why would they take Style?”

“He didn’t do anything wrong. They took him because of me. It’s my fault.” He can’t bear to see the disappointment on the man's face so he stares back at the floor. “I used to work for a company that has ties with the underground Mafia. I was raised by the owner after my parents were murdered and I was made to do…. unsavory things…but I’d been trying to get away for the last few years. I opened the restaurant and my brother and I were making plans for our escape…for our future. This was our chance to get out, and when I met Style I thought…well…I was naive to think that she was going to let us go without a fight. Style was collateral damage that I didn’t see coming. But I should have. And I will forever regret not realizing the danger he was in.” 

“You said you stopped the person who hurt him?” 

“Yes.” 

“Did you make him pay?” Fadel’s eyes snap back to Style’s fathers. He looks serious. He wants to know. And Fadel finds that he wants to tell him. “Yes.”

[galacticnova3]

Have you ever thought about Dhelmise? I have. In fact, I’ve thought about it so much that I decided I couldn’t fit it all in my brain. So here it is. That’s right, it’s time for the Dhelmise infodump but for real this time. With feeling. Because I think about this thing a normal amount. This is extremely long and not organized any more than my own thoughts are, so I have put it under a readmore. I am not going to color of the seaweed you people, because I’m not evil, I’m just hyperfixated.

I think everyone who follows me has read my usual spiel about the shiny, so I’ll save that for later. Instead I’ll start with some word explanations to avoid possible confusion later on. I’ll be using kelp and seaweed interchangeably for the most part, but as kelp technically refers to particular kinds of seaweed I will try to keep that in mind when the distinction actually matters. Seaweeds are not plants, they’re something different called macroalgae, which in turn is classified into three groups— green, brown, and red. As they’re not plants, they have different structures that I’ll be referring to throughout this whole thing.

The main ones to know are the blades, stipe, and holdfast. The blades are more or less analogous to the leaves of plants, with the stipe in turn being like a stem. The holdfast is often compared to roots, but doesn’t serve the same function of absorbing water/nutrients, instead only anchoring the whole thing to a surface, be it the seabed or something like a rock or underwater structure. In short it holds the kelp in place, as the name suggests. There’s also another part called the pneumatocyst, but it’s not really as relevant to Dhelmise itself as it lacks anything resembling one; in short it’s a gas-filled structure that allows the seaweed to float. It similarly lacks sporophytes, aka kelp reproductive organs.

With that out of the way, it’s finally time to actually talk about my favorite fella!

Dhelmise is, of course, based on kelp, if it wasn’t obvious; though it’s green(or red if shiny), it shares the most similarities with various brown kelps— I’ll get into that soon. Each individual has one stipe, which resembles a chain when not at rest but otherwise isn’t visible, and an average of five blades. They have two holdfasts on either side of their stipe, rather than just the one that is typical of real kelps; these are the apical holdfast, which is the one that clings to the helm, and the basal holdfast, which clings to the anchor. Oddly enough, the blades are always closer to the basal holdfast than the apical one when the body is fully extended, despite that being less efficient for photosynthesis. (Had I designed it, this wouldn’t be the case, but whatever.)

This does mean they can have a bit of a smell to them, which can take some getting used to, though I wouldn’t describe it as unpleasant— they kinda just smell like the ocean.

Also, while they can spend a good deal of time out of the water, they are very prone to scorching if out in high temperatures and direct sunlight for extended periods. This is especially common on the edges of their blades and on the parts of their bodies adjacent to exposed metal, like the anchor. Care also needs to be taken to make sure they don’t dry out, which would make them lethargic and brittle, and therefore more prone to injury. Both of these conditions are reversible, but in severe cases it can take months for them to recover fully. Plus, it’s just not very nice; you don’t like getting sunburnt, do you? On the other hand, unlike many other grass types, they don’t seem to mind cold temperatures; just keep direct contact with ice, sleet, and snow to a minimum and they should be perfectly fine.

While some sources claim it’s based on dead man’s fingers, Codium fragile, I don’t think that conclusion is founded on anything more than the fact that it’s a marine macroalgae, dark green, and has dead in the name, which fits a ghost type. Some say it’s because of the shape, but I disagree there as well, as while it does branch, it doesn’t do so from one point and is more tubular in appearance than other species. It also tends to grow outward rather than upward, and doesn’t get nearly large enough to make sense scale-wise. Lastly, it usually doesn’t attach itself to objects that are particularly large or heavy, to the point that it can often be found washed up on beaches, and also grows most often in very shallow waters, where it can be exposed when tides recede. This does not make much sense for Dhelmise, which clearly prefers very solid, heavy objects to anchor itself to(no pun intended), relies on actual shipwrecks to get those objects rather than ships that are merely beached and abandoned, and would likely prefer deeper waters where it will find its preferred prey.

Though they may occasionally make their way onto land, as is seen outside of Circhester, this may be light-seeking behavior, given that portions of Circhester Bay’s waters are covered by ice that would block sunlight. More likely, however, it is actually an adaptation to deal with the presence of Pincurchin in that very same area; as these Pokémon feed on seaweed, it would make sense that Dhelmise would seek to avoid them. Keep in mind that this is currently the only location where Dhelmise can be naturally found on land, despite also being found in Alola by fishing in Seafolk Village, the Isle of Armor by fishing on Challenge Beach, and in the Crown Tundra by fishing in the Frigid Sea. Pincurchin is not found in any of those other locations, thus they would not be pressuring the local sea creepers to leave the water.

With all of that in mind, I think a more fitting species for comparison would be Nereocystis luetkeana, aka bullwhip kelp, ribbon kelp, etc; not only does it have multiple blades growing out from one point, but it does so at the top of the stipe(or rather from the pneumatocyst) and not all along it, making it similar in shape and growth habit to Dhelmise. In fact, the location of the pneumatocyst combined with the blades even bears a slight resemblance to the way Dhelmise attaches to the ship’s helm, just facing upward rather than outward. It’s also much closer in size, being known to grow up to 118 feet— Dhelmise’s “chain” is said to be able to extend for hundreds of yards, but as far as I’m aware there aren’t any kelps that can get to 600 feet.

Another possible inspiration is found in Pterygophora californica, aka stalked kelp. This species is another brown macroalgae like N. luetkeana, exhibits branching behavior of the blades even closer to that seen in Dhelmise—bullwhip kelp has significantly more blades than stalked kelp— and is much closer to the size Dhelmise is listed as in the dex, reaching around 9’8” compared to the just under 13 foot ghost type; not exact, but Codium fragile doesn’t even reach three feet tall. As a little bonus, another common name for this species is walking kelp, which seems like a nice fit for the sea creeper Pokémon. The resemblance doesn’t end there, though, as stalked kelp is known to often be used as a point of attachment for other algaes, including the previously discussed bullwhip kelp.

That leads into the next thing I want to talk about, which is the fascinating ecological relationship between Dhelmise, Skrelp, and Dragalge. Dhelmise and Skrelp are said to get along. While this isn’t really elaborated on in the dex, it’s safe to assume that Dhelmise allows Skrelp to use it as a hiding place, given that the latter is said to hide amongst kelp. Additionally, a Dhelmise would serve as a literal anchor point for an otherwise easily swept away Skrelp, which, aside from referencing how seahorses/sea dragons cling to things, parallels the way bullwhip kelp will attach itself to stalked kelp.

While it’s true that Dhelmise is predacious and uses its seaweed to drain the life force of its prey— after more or less giving them blunt force trauma via anchor, of course— it only targets large Pokémon like Wailmer and Wailord. Skrelp is really small, so it probably wouldn’t even register as worth scaring off, let alone trying to hunt given its lack of a grass weakness and resistance to steel. Given that it has predators to hide from, one might actually be safest clinging to a Dhelmise; it could intimidate anything that would threaten the little sea dragon, if not seek to actively attack it if it’s large enough to be seen as worthwhile prey. Additionally, both of them use seaweed and detritus, with Skrelp feeding on rotting seaweed as its primary food source while Dhelmise infuses seaweed and detritus into its body to maintain it; perhaps it’s a situation where the little guy takes bits and pieces of what the big guy’s having.

You might think this is one-sided in favor of the Skrelp, much like how bullwhip kelp will shade out and put additional stress on stalked kelp, but Dhelmise may actually benefit from this relationship at the species level. When Skrelp evolves into Dragalge— which are specifically described as getting along really well with Dhelmise, fun fact, perhaps out of gratitude for offering safety before their evolution— they gain poison that can corrode ships and cause them to sink. As we know, Dhelmise are born when seaweed merges with ship debris; other than breeding with Ditto, which wouldn’t occur naturally and always results in an egg, it’s safe to assume they cannot actively reproduce… At least, not in a way that would result in any genetic diversity.

I headcanon that Dhelmise share some traits with seaweed beyond just appearance and literally being born from it. Specifically, they’re capable of asexual reproduction via fragmentation; if a piece of a Dhelmise were to break off in battle or as a result of some other environmental factor, it can essentially act the same way a brand new Dhelmise would, seeking out and, if it succeeds, merging with ship debris. This will always result in a genetic clone of the original Dhelmise, though, and unless it was close to a wreck other than the one it was born from, usually doesn’t succeed in creating a new fully fledged individual. As for kelp abilities they lack, they cannot produce sporophytes like many living kelps do, much like they don’t grow pneumatocysts. Sexual reproduction in that manner, therefore, isn’t possible; the only ways to get wholly new Dhelmise are for them to form naturally from kelp or via captive breeding with Ditto.

Regardless of how they come to be, the bottom line is that without shipwrecks, new Dhelmise can’t form in the wild, or at least can’t form and survive. The ship debris is key to their hunting strategy, to the point that their signature move is Anchor Shot and their signature ability is Steelworker, both based around how they utilize the debris they merged with. One might begin to form and search for a shipwreck(perhaps literally creeping along the sea floor), but if it doesn’t find the debris it needs quickly enough, the tissue that would have become its holdfasts will eventually wither and die off, leaving the unrealized sea creeper unable to cling to debris and unable to hunt, until it eventually starves and goes back to being regular dead kelp. Sad, but probably what happens the majority of the time.

Now, healthy Skrelp will eventually evolve into Dragalge, which can and apparently will sink ships in their territories. That obviously creates more shipwrecks. More shipwrecks will allow more Dhelmise to successfully form, thus keeping the species alive(or at least as alive as a ghost type can be…) in the wild despite the extremely specific conditions that they require to develop. Therefore, it would make sense for Dhelmise to want to ensure the safety of Skrelp if they can, as a sort of investment. After all, it’s safe to assume that modern maps, weather radar, and navigational equipment drastically reduced the number of shipwrecks that occur “naturally”, so outside of the possibility of intentional ship sinking by humans specifically to help bolster wild Dhelmise populations(or just to create habitat in general, like was seen in ORAS with the Sea Mauville, even though that wasn’t sunken intentionally so much as just not demolished after sinking), they might actually have to rely on this long-term relationship as a way of adapting to modern technological advances.

In the past, before ships and their various paraphernalia existed, Dhelmise were probably significantly closer to normal kelp, not growing nearly as large and relying on things like rocks as their hunting implements of choice. Though that assumes they hunted at all; as alluded to earlier, I headcanon that Dhelmise are also capable of photosynthesis, and for more reasons than just the fact that it’s the way their primary inspiration gets energy. Prior to Sword and Shield they could straight up learn the move Synthesis. They’re still able to learn the clearly photosynthesis-based combination of Growth and Sunny Day, along with both Solar Beam and Solar Blade. All of these involve absorbing energy from the sun and then utilizing it in some manner.

It wouldn’t be a stretch to theorize that, when the species didn’t have access to what might be the perfect tool for taking down their preferred prey— anchors can not only knock out the float whales, but actually weigh enough to then drag them beneath the waves for feeding— they might instead have been primarily photoautotrophs, in addition to being detritivorous. Perhaps they were even blind, or could easily become blinded due to their eye not having any sort of external protection; modern Dhelmise have their eyes safe behind glass and metal. Or maybe they were always predatory, but fed passively on smaller fish Pokémon that tried to use their seaweed as a hiding place. Regardless of exactly how, it’s almost certain that the species was very different in the past, and likely only became how they are now as a result of human activities.

Pivoting a bit, odds are the reason they prefer such targets in the first place is because they offer more life force to drain than smaller Pokémon. In a way you can treat the HP stat as a measure of life energy; higher HP means more vitality, which means it’s more worthwhile prey. Realistically, a hunt has to be worth the opportunity cost of not just soaking up the sun and safely getting energy that way. If hunting a Wailord would provide significantly more energy in a shorter period of time than just doing photosynthesis, the risk involved could be seen as worthwhile. On the other hand, an injured or weakened Dhelmise might not attempt that hunt because the relative safety of getting energy without initiating a battle that could go wrong is more appealing than trying to get more energy more quickly, especially when the risk of failure is greater; an unsuccessful hunt, even if it doesn’t end in further injury, is a waste of time and energy.

To further elaborate on the photosynthesis side of things, it’s safe to assume that shiny Dhelmise actually don’t see much of a difference in photosynthetic efficiency. Red macroalgae does exist, and like their green and brown counterparts they are all photoautotrophs, which means it’s efficient enough to be viable. With that said, the actual color of red seaweed is often quite dark and closer to the brown side of the spectrum, so not all that similar to the bright, vibrant red of shiny Dhelmise. It’s also safe to assume another kelp species wasn’t an inspiration for the shiny, as there are no red macroalgae that are also considered kelp. Anyone familiar with me knows what this is going to be about, but I’m gonna include even more information this time!

There are various types of non-kelp macroalgae that closely resemble its shiny coloration. They usually don’t grow very large, and color-wise seem to get less similar the larger they get. The closest match I could find color-wise is the pom pom or dragon's breath macroalgae(Gracilaria hayi), which is evidently somewhat popular in saltwater aquariums but seems to remain even smaller, and much like the next example has little resemblance aside from being red. A larger red seaweed is dulse, Palmaria palmata, which can occasionally reach a whopping one meter tall, or 3.3 feet; notably this species is commonly eaten in places like Iceland and Atlantic Canada.

I feel like this is as good a time as ever to point out something… Interesting. In Scarlet and Violet, there’s a point where you have to go and bid on some extremely rare red wakame; this is actually Kofu’s gym puzzle and therefore isn’t optional. However, the word wakame refers specifically to a type of edible kelp, which, as I established earlier, does not come in red, and especially not in the shade of red seen in-game. While you could say it’s just a fantasy version of a real life thing, the way it’s explicitly stated to be incredibly rare leads me to believe the red wakame you bid for could actually be kelp harvested from a shiny Dhelmise. I say harvested because I trust Kofu not to support inhumane practices, and taking parts of a Dhelmise without its consent would be incredibly fucked up and incredibly risky.

Considering how large they get— without taking into account how one of their likely inspirations can grow two feet a day— and the fact that it’s been established various grass types have edible or medicinal parts that can be humanely harvested from them directly(Tropius fruits, Petilil leaves) or collected as they naturally fall off(Toedscool flaps), I doubt it’s a stretch to believe Dhelmise also have edible parts. Most likely their blades. I imagine they’re not too different from regular kelp, actually, considering they literally were just regular seaweed at one point. The main differences are the sheer novelty of “this isn’t just regular kelp” and the need to find individuals that will actually cooperate and allow themselves to be harvested. After all, I really doubt you’re going to be getting away unscathed if you try to take anything from a Dhelmise by force, let alone part of the Dhelmise itself.

To elaborate on that because I love yapping and also it gives an excuse to mention another headcanon: the dex says Dhelmise weighs 463 pounds, but realistically it’s actually a lot heavier because Pokémon weight-to-size ratios are notorious for not making sense. I choose to interpret this as the weight of a Dhelmise not counting the anchor; the anchor technically isn’t part of its body, but the helm would be counted since that’s where its eye is. Now it might seem like over 400 pounds is too heavy, but remember that it somehow has enough material to extend for hundreds of yards, which is 600 feet minimum. Anchors of a similar size to the one Dhelmise has usually weigh several hundred pounds alone. What this means is that, in short, any physical attack by a Dhelmise on a human is going to be devastating, if not immediately deadly. So like. Maybe save fucking around and finding out for something that can’t break your bones like twigs or crack your skull like a peanut shell if provoked?

That was quite a tangent! Back to shiny talk, now’s the part you’ve all been waiting for. Dhelmise’s shiny coloration may actually be based on a phenomenon known as a red tide. This event occurs when there is a large bloom of red algae, most notably Karenia brevis(though as a dinoflagellate its status as an algae is actually debated), which in high concentrations will make seawater look bright red, almost as if the ocean itself is bleeding. The more dense the bloom, the more it starves the surrounding water of oxygen, which will asphyxiate sea life in and around it. K. brevis will also release toxins into the surrounding water which further increases its potential to kill surrounding wildlife like fish and even marine birds and mammals, and it remains toxic once it dies and begins to decay. A bright red marine algae associated with death seems pretty fitting for a ghost type’s shiny, especially considering Dhelmise is able to learn Sludge Wave as its only poison type move.

Here’s the fun part: Dhelmise coloring is completely independent of the macroalgae they form from. Doesn’t matter if the seaweed was brown, green, or almost purple, it will always create an individual that is dark green or bright red. How does this happen? Good question! Why does normal kelp sometimes turn red? Who the hell knows! I sure don’t! The mechanisms behind shiny coloration in Pokémon aren’t understood in even the most well-studied species, so suffice to say it’s still quite the mystery in Dhelmise.

Now then, you might think that if you artificially initiate asexual reproduction in a shiny one, you’d get shiny offspring, like an infinite shiny exploit. After all, they’re genetically identical, right? Haha, nope, somehow it doesn’t work like that! The red seaweed, which used to be green or brown or whatever and turned red for seemingly no reason, will just turn that familiar dark green as the new individual develops for also seemingly no reason. Or, in exceedingly rare cases, a clone of a normal Dhelmise can turn out shiny. They’ll be genetically identical in every way and yet one will be a drastically different color. It makes zero sense and yet it is the truth. Because why not! Nature doesn’t care about what should make sense, it just does what it does!

Anyways… Switching gears once again, I think my headcanon for how Dhelmise initially form and develop warrants some explanation, as elsewhere outside of this ramble I’ve mentioned offhand that it isn’t well understood in-universe for a variety of reasons. As alluded to earlier, new Dhelmise can come into the world in three ways: the way described in the Pokédex, through asexual reproduction by fragmentation, or through hatching eggs created when breeding them with Ditto. Due to the inherent differences between these manners of origin, the individuals that result will all have some different characteristics.

Normal kelp can begin the process of becoming a Dhelmise in two ways: spontaneously from dead kelp, or as a result of souls lost at sea becoming entangled in live kelp that ends up breaking away, much like how Bramblin are said to form. Beyond that, the process of becoming a full-fledged individual is identical. Next is what I’m going to call the creeping stage, where the sort of proto-Dhelmise will begin to blindly search for a shipwreck, most likely via sensing metal in the water and trying to move towards it. In the vast majority of cases, the individual is ultimately unsuccessful; between the inability to actually see, the way currents can pick them up and carry them away, and the presence of Pokémon that will eat kelp, the odds of one even reaching a shipwreck at all are extremely low, let alone one with suitable, accessible debris it can actually use.

In fact, even if they do reach what they need, it could already be too late. They need to begin the process of merging with the debris relatively quickly after first transforming from normal kelp— within two weeks, at best— or else the cells that would have become their holdfasts will begin to degenerate and wither away, leaving the unrealized individual unable to cling to a helm or anchor even if they do find them. In these situations they will simply run out of energy and starve, reverting back into regular scraps of kelp as if they hadn’t ever existed. They can also die if they begin the merging process in an area that gets no sun; photosynthesis is a necessary energy source until they are established enough to hunt, which can take anywhere from a few weeks to several months depending on conditions.

It stands to reason that most successful natural formations will occur spontaneously near shipwrecks that resulted in a loss of life, as any kelp growing nearby will be more likely to take on a soul and start the process, and the resulting Dhelmise-in-progress will have a shorter distance to travel. Many won’t travel too far from the location they formed in, so one that fragmented from an existing individual could end up searching the same wreck that no longer has a helm or anchor to bind to. Alas, just finding and clinging to the desired debris will not guarantee a successful formation; they start out small and blind, and— until they actually grow into their selected helm or anchor and seek out the other piece—are entirely defenseless. During this time they’re extremely vulnerable to other Pokémon, especially Pincurchin in their native range.

As for the debris itself, most often they will find and cling to the anchor first, simply because these are usually outside the ship and thus more likely to be found quickly by something approaching from the surrounding seabed. They will still be unable to see until finding and merging with a helm, but the anchor will at least aid in orienting them in their surroundings, even if initially incorporating it usually takes a day to several days. One that manages to cling to the helm first will develop an eye sooner, gaining the sense of sight more quickly, with the caveat that orienting themself without an anchor to clearly indicate which direction is down will be significantly more of a challenge. Merging with the helm takes anywhere from several hours to a day, with an eye usually appearing within a few hours after successful incorporation.

Once they have successfully integrated with their items, the new Dhelmise will need to make its way into an area with some amount of sun exposure, which will usually just be shallower waters; photosynthesis will fuel their subsequent development as they “grow into” the debris. At this stage, most will still be almost unrecognizable. The basal holdfast takes a significant amount of time to cover the majority of the anchor, and only after that will their lower blades begin to grow downward from it. This also seems to be when the anchor gains new properties that increase its durability and stop it from corroding, though existing damage is not repaired, and corrosion that has already occurred is not reversed. How this happens is not well understood, beyond it being spectral in nature. In gamer terms, they give their stuff the Unbreaking III enchantment but not Mending.

Compared to their wild counterparts, Dhelmise hatched from eggs are almost always slightly larger and more vigorous to begin with. This is because they will experience some additional growth inside of the egg prior to hatching, and will not spend precious energy in the creeping stage for reasons that will be addressed in a moment. Otherwise, they undergo the same basic processes; eye formation occurs after merging with the helm, and their body will take at least a few weeks to fully cover their anchor. The main difference is that, given how members of this group are almost always bred intentionally— as in, there are no known cases of wild Dhelmise and Ditto creating eggs— conditions are generally way more favorable for them than in the wild. Who would have thought.

They will, assuming the breeder was responsible, more or less skip the creeping stage, as they are offered a helm and anchor to merge with shortly after hatching rather than needing to seek them out. The need to provide such things is actually one of the primary reasons Dhelmise are rarely bred in captivity, in addition to the fact that they are difficult to find and catch for breeding in the first place. It’s not exactly inexpensive! Plus, they are not commonly trained, and most research on Dhelmise is focused on their ecology in the wild, so demand is also quite low. Those not bred purely for research purposes may be raised and habituated to having their blades harvested for culinary use, or will be destined to live in large aquariums or other such public education institutions, sometimes as part of larger displays or even as a focal species.

Lucky individuals may be treated as ambassador Pokémon, as despite their large size and strength, they’re often quite slow and placid— some might even say boring. They aren’t very popular for this role, though, as the space and conditions required to meet all of their needs while looking naturalistic are quite large and fairly complex. In other words, expensive. When not actively participating in programs, they often aren’t very exciting to watch, and organizations generally prefer Pokémon that not only do well interacting with people once trained, but are also interesting or fun to look at outside of programs. The primary exception to this is actually when Skrelp are being used as ambassadors; in such cases, a Dhelmise can help them to feel more safe and secure, while simultaneously highlighting one of their more interesting ecological relationships. Emotional support big seaweed.

So, now that you know what they are(or are likely based on) and how they form, let’s get into some potential ways that individuals can vary beyond just temperament, shininess, and different sizes, shapes, and models of helms and anchors. Because, let’s be real, the odds of every single Dhelmise happening to utilize the exact same size and style of anchor, and one model of ship’s helm to go with that anchor, feels maybe a little bit unlikely.

It isn’t all that uncommon for Dhelmise to have differing blade counts; that is, more or less than five apical blades, which are those that are generally spread out from where the stipe wraps around the helm when at rest. For example, it’s possible for them to develop only four large ones, or six to seven small ones. Individuals with fewer than four blades have not been observed, except in cases of injury where one or more have been torn or cut off entirely and are yet to regrow. The presence of more than seven blade growing points has also not been documented, but blade counts as high as fourteen have been recorded, albeit incredibly rarely. This is a result of doubling, when two blades— usually smaller but of unequal size— grow from the same spot. This can occur with all of a Dhelmise’s blades, only some of them, or even just one.

The exact cause for one to form like this isn’t known, but the trait does not appear to be heritable, even in cases where it was innate. Therefore, the prevailing theory is that it is not genetic, but instead the result of the stipe being damaged or otherwise having its growth disrupted in some fashion during the individual’s early development. In these cases the condition is permanent. It can also be caused later in life if the area of attachment is damaged, but the blade is not actually severed from the stipe; a new blade will begin growing as part of the healing process, even though the original is still attached. Think of it as similar to a lizard having two tails due to the original failing to actually break off when dropped. In this situation, the doubling is almost always temporary, with the exception being cases of more intense trauma to the stipe.

Doubling can also occur in the basal blades— those that hang down from the anchor— for similar reasons, but as they form later in development it is almost always the result of environmental factors like injury, rather than anything that might permanently alter the growth pattern. It’s also less obvious in older individuals, as there can be a lot of natural variation in basal blade counts. Usually five will form initially, but unlike the apical blades, the basal blades do not have specific growing points, and their positioning is more to do with the shape of their anchor.

Significantly more rarely, a Dhelmise can actually end up forming two eyes; why this happens is, you guessed it, not known. While it might seem advantageous, in reality it actually tends to cause poorer coordination and increased susceptibility to confusion. Dhelmise eyes have the peculiar trait of being able to spin, much like the compasses they resemble; this may be to offset the way their helms tend to naturally rotate to and fro while they sway, akin to a gyroscope. The swaying itself also isn’t understood, with most theories boiling down to the idea that they are simply doing what they did as kelp, even if the mechanism that originally led to such movement isn’t acting on them anymore.

Regardless of why their eyes are the way they are and why they always seem to be under the influence of some invisible current or tide, the bottom line is that their natural movement doesn’t disorient them when they have only one eye. This does not seem to be the case with binocular individuals, as their eyes will rarely actually rotate in sync, leading to two conflicting, partially overlapped visual inputs. Most will keep one eye covered by one of their blades almost constantly, while others seem to cover one eye at least when hunting or changing locations. When both eyes are exposed, they tend to be noticeably less responsive to motion, with subtle movements often going entirely unnoticed. However, when one eye is covered, they behave more similarly to average members of the species. This suggests possible visual fatigue caused by the two visual inputs themselves making it appear that everything is moving, effectively concealing actual movement.

One of the most interesting things about Dhelmise is that, like many seaweeds, they actually have noticeably high rates of chimerism, or having two or more distinct sets of DNA; in some areas this can be observed in around 30% of individuals. Chimeric Dhelmise will arise from chimeric seaweed, though in much rarer cases it can occur if two proto-Dhelmise bind to the same debris and end up essentially fusing. The latter is likely what would cause a bicolor Dhelmise, or an individual that displays both normal and shiny coloration; chimeras arising from just one piece of seaweed will either be entirely green or entirely red, regardless of whether the seaweed has multiple sets of DNA.

The different genetic material is not evenly distributed, much like in regular seaweed, instead having the most variation in the holdfasts and almost none in the stipe or blades. Also, whether a Dhelmise is a chimera or not will pretty much never be visible externally, instead being something that can only be confirmed with DNA testing. The sole exception is the incredibly rare bicolor types, which will of course have two colors; of those that have been documented, most are primarily green with bits of red showing on their holdfasts, but they can also be the reverse. What seems to be consistent among all chimeric individuals is that they are generally more hardy than those with only one set of DNA, growing larger and being overall less prone to issues that can affect the species. This may be comparable to hybrid vigor.

Alright, this is pretty close to the 6000 word mark, and I’ve said pretty much all I have to say about JUST KIDDING. LIKE MY FIELDS ON POKÉFARM Q THERE’S ALWAYS MORE DHELMISE. THIS IS WHAT YOU SIGNED UP FOR AFTER CLICKING THAT READMORE, PAL: PURE UNFILTERED INFODUMPING ABOUT THE FUNNY SEAWEED. The machinations of my mind may be an enigma, but by the end of this, Dhelmise sure won’t be!

Let’s talk temperament! Dhelmise are actually pretty easygoing in a majority of situations. Everyone always focuses on the fact that they hunt and the way that they hunt, but in reality for every period of hunting activity they usually go several weeks to several months seemingly just sitting around on the seafloor doing nothing. Maybe they will extend their chain on particularly sunny days to do some good ol’ photosynthesizing, but they’ll retract their helms quickly when ships, people, or other Pokémon approach. They tend to avoid conflict when possible. Provoking one accidentally is extremely difficult, except when dealing with individuals that are already under stress or that are just unusually high-strung.

Dhelmise attacking seafaring vessels isn’t unheard of, but outside of cases where the ship was actively disturbing one in the midst of hunting or feeding, this is almost always the result of a misunderstanding by an inexperienced individual. When looking from below and taking into account the fact that they’re naturally able to sense the lifeforces of other living things, a ship can seem very similar to a Wailmer or Wailord, especially because many modern ships also have white undersides. While this does mean vessels carrying more people are more likely to be attacked, such a situation can easily be avoided by simply painting the bottom with a color other than white, or adding some kind of easily visible pattern to it that breaks up the shape. Older Dhelmise that have more hunting experience are much better at distinguishing between ships and prey.

Another common misconception is that they are extremely territorial and will “claim” shipwrecks, attacking anyone who dares to get close. In reality, it’s uncommon for one to stay in one place for more than a few months at a time, and especially not in a location that gets little sunlight. They go where their prey goes. While they might have favorite spots to stay in, and are known to try and keep other members of their kind away for the sake of reducing competition— and also to avoid scaring away their prey’s pods, which will avoid areas they think have a lot of Dhelmise present— there have been very few confirmed instances of territorial behavior being enacted on other species of Pokémon, let alone people. There has been exactly one well-documented case where an individual became very protective of a sunken ship, most likely the one it formed from, but it was driven away by trainers.

Most likely, the idea originated from the fact that very new Dhelmise that have only recently established on their debris may lash out in response to people or Pokémon getting close. This is because, up until that point, anything could be a threat, and many things are still unfamiliar to them; just getting that far is practically a miracle, so it makes sense they’d take a while to realize they don’t have to fight for their life 24/7. The world can be a scary place for any young Pokémon, even if you wouldn’t expect that kind of perspective from something so large and strong. Just because they’re an almost one ton baby doesn’t mean they aren’t still a baby. Fear can easily be mistaken for anger when it comes to something that isn’t very expressive.

Though, they can actually be very expressive if you know what to look for. The secret is paying attention to their eye. When they’re happy it might turn sideways in a way that almost resembles a closed eye, or it might slant inward or outward when they’re angry or sad. When they’re particularly upset their pupil can narrow, and when they’re excited or see something they want it can widen much more than you’d expect. When they’re confused it’ll spin in random directions, when uncertain or nervous it might move back and forth more quickly than usual, when startled it might briefly stop moving entirely for a moment, and when they’re content it moves slowly and smoothly. Not as slowly as when they’re asleep, though— they DO sleep.

Thanks to psychic types and, more recently, Rotom pokédexes, phones, and tablets, it’s also become apparent that they’re quite slow as far as Pokémon go. Not slow as in stupid or simple minded, they just tend to go about things in a very deliberate manner; acting on impulse isn’t their style, and they don’t seem interested in much in the short-term. This is likely because they’re benthic organisms for the most part, and not a whole lot actually happens down there in terms of action most of the time. You’ll have the occasional frenzy from Wailord falls— sometimes caused by the sea creeper in question— or storms come through and stir things up, or maybe a new shipwreck occurs and causes commotion. Otherwise life is probably quite slow and uneventful for your average Dhelmise, at least in the wild.

Because they put a lot of thought into things before they act, however, they can be extremely stubborn. Impressively so, even. If a trainer’s Dhelmise decides it wants to be in one spot and not move, there is very little to be done about it outside recalling it to its pokéball. If one doesn’t want to battle, it won’t battle. If one is determined to get into something it isn’t supposed to, such as a pokébean storage container, your only option is to physically remove the container from the premises because they will keep trying to get into it and you are not going to be able to stop them. If one doesn’t want to let go of a toy or other item, it’s theirs now, you are not going to be getting it out of their grip and should just hope they lose interest and drop it eventually, or just plan on getting a replacement.

Speaking of holding things, yeah, they can do that. Most obviously they can manipulate their blades to wrap around objects to hold them, akin to tendrils or vines used by some other Pokémon. They also seem to be able to hold objects with part of their apical holdfast, as if adhering them to itself, though in reality it’s likely actually part of their stipe that does so. When the body is extended, it is the chain that seems to be able to hold things, while neither holdfast ever seems to be used. Perhaps it’s neither, actually, and this is done through spectral means, using something we can’t see to grasp things their blades would struggle to handle. Notably, it’s in the same spot where they “eat” small food items from, like berries. Do they have an invisible mouth there? Probably not, but the way they hold round or smooth things there can be similar to dog Pokémon playing fetch.

They don’t seem to have an aversion to physical contact overall. Like with many other Pokémon, it’s better to let them initiate it first until you have an idea of what their likes and dislikes are, and also because it’s important to set boundaries early. Much like you train dog Pokémon not to bite when playing, you don’t want your giant macroalgae friend to squeeze your arm with one of their blades until the blood circulation gets cut off. At the same time, you shouldn’t try grabbing their blades unless they’ve been offered up by the Dhelmise for that kind of thing of its own accord; not only can they be broken off if they try to pull it away and you reflexively tighten your grip, but such an act can be interpreted as more of an act of aggression than of play or bonding, especially if it’s one you caught in the wild.

Something else that’s very important to keep in mind is that they tend to either really enjoy or absolutely despise having the handles on their helm touched or held onto. So uh. Maybe don’t try to play sailor until you’ve made sure the one you’re interacting with isn’t going to reflexively spin its wheel to get you to let go and accidentally break your wrist in the process. In the same vein, they often don’t like having their anchors handled or otherwise messed with, especially where the metal is exposed or corroded. Cleaning it is rarely necessary, so unless there’s something that really needs to be addressed, like something stuck to or wrapped around it, it’s best to leave it be. If one actually lets you do anything with the anchor, that’s a sign of trust.

When it comes to interacting with other Pokémon, they actually tend to get along much better with smaller Pokémon than larger ones. Perhaps it’s related to how they will often act as a shelter of sorts for small fish Pokémon like Wishiwashi and Skrelp. In an example of a bit of a double standard, they don’t seem nearly as concerned about small Pokémon touching or climbing on their anchors, at most attempting to tilt in a way to harmlessly slide them off. They might get tired out or overstimulated by particularly energetic Pokémon, but seem to be quite patient and won’t lash out unless things get overbearing. The exception being if a little guy tries to pick a fight, in which case things tend to go about as you’d expect.

With larger Pokémon, and especially Pokémon larger than the Dhelmise themself, you really have to take care to set boundaries and make sure they understand friend versus food. One on one introductions should be made beforehand, so that you can anticipate how they will get along prior to having both out in a group, though this really goes for any Pokémon you expect to interact with others at some point. They usually don’t show nearly as much patience for bigger Pokémon at first, and will likely take longer to warm up to them. Once they do, though, they seem way more interested in actively interacting with them. Perhaps they feel less concerned about potentially injuring them due to not seeing them?

Though they don’t tend to readily start fights, if one gets started they can be very efficient at ending them if they get annoyed or angry enough. Preventing things from escalating to that point is therefore very important for the safety of other Pokémon, even if they were fucking around and about to find out. Sometimes the finding out part is a good learning experience that will encourage them to be more well behaved, and sometimes it’s an anchor to the face that will encourage you to practice speedrun routing to the nearest Pokémon center. Better to not see which option it’ll be.

Finally, remember that Dhelmise are just like any other Pokémon! They’ll have likes and dislikes, personalities, various little habits and quirks to pick up on… They’re more than just huge, scary whale hunters or boring, lazy piles of junk, even if that’s not always immediately obvious at first glance. Each one is unique and deserves appreciation. And merch. And a marketable plushie. And one million dollars in cold, hard cash.

If you’re reading this, you finally made it to the end! You survived! Congratulations! You get a gold star ⭐️ and my gratitude.

[ohno-the-sun]

Ough having that sad feeling again where I’m simply too busy to do fandom stuff like I used to 🥲

I’m being a responsible adult but at what cost

[tonariofjananda]

I think about this moment a lot.

Like. It feels really rude that Fushi’s just brushing Tonari off like this, jerking his hand away as if he’s annoyed she even tried to touch him in the first place. The fact that we don’t even see his expression when he does this makes it feel extra brutal. But I think a lot of people see this scene as if Fushi rejecting Tonari’s ‘advances,’ so to speak, and I’m not convinced that’s what’s happening here.

Like, yeah we see that big love bubble at the corner of the panel while she’s telling Fushi how important he is to her, but Tonari’s just reflected on how she feels about him and ultimately rejected her own feelings. Romantic love is not something she wants to feel for Fushi. So I don’t think she was working her way up to a confession. At least, not intentionally (it’s not her fault Fushi’s an empath)!

Instead I think this scene is supposed to be a parallel of the moment that happens between Gugu and Rean.

Gugu doesn’t tear his hand away from Rean’s because he doesn’t want to hear her confession. He isn’t running away because he doesn’t love her back. Gugu pulls away from Rean because he’s rejecting the concern she has for him and his safety. He realizes there’s something greater that he needs to focus on, something he feels only he‘s strong enough to take care of. And he wants to take care of it to keep her and the people he loves safe. Gugu loves her, it’s just not the right time for him to indulge in it.

In my opinion Fushi feels similarly to Gugu (not the reciprocation part though). He appreciates Tonari’s concern and love for him- that’s why he smiles a little and thanks her- but it’s not the right time for him to indulge in that. He‘s still trying to prove that the world is at peace (something he’s doing because of her, for her), he doesn’t need or want her getting involved in his fight against the nokkers.

I wanna reemphasize that I’m not trying to argue that Fushi secretly reciprocates Tonari’s romantic feelings- he’s already said he’s never felt that way about anyone before. I just don’t think he’s outright rejecting them either.

I think the hands in this scene are also what get people thinking this scene is a little more romantic than it is. It’s a standard cliche where one character stops another from leaving after all lmao. But this to me is what solidifies this as a scene that’s not inherently romantic.

Them grabbing at each other like this is a much older, a much deeper thing for them. Back when they were on Jananda, they’d often grab at each other’s wrists because they could never quite see eye to eye. Tonari specifically would grab at Fushi’s wrists a lot when trying to impose her will on him and drag him along. Once they start understanding each other, however, their hands actually touch (ex. Tonari pressing Oopa’s blow dart to the back of Fushi’s hand).

This scene is a little mix of the two. Tonari’s grabbing Fushi’s wrist to stop him from leaving (imposing her will on him) but her hand overlaps with his palm a little (trying to understand him). Tonari doesn’t know what’s happening completely, but she knows enough to know something’s wrong. In a way, Tonari grabbing for his hand is her appealing to Fushi to open up, to let her in, follow through on this connection that’s always been theirs.

But he doesn’t. Fushi rejects it.

I think the chapter image shows it all pretty well too. They’re both reaching out for each other. But while Tonari’s solid in her attempts to reach him, Fushi's all fuzzy. It's as if these are his emotions. Like, subconsciously he wants to reach out, but he can't. So close, yet so far…

[tempestclerics]

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