#but Nanna was a kid once

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: after you'd sent Xavier a text that told him not to meet you, you'd ventured to the school at dawn, alone, bouquet in hand as promised.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

🚨💀⚠️thank you for bearing with me, guys. this is entirely new material. PART 24/25/26 have been combined here to create a massive fluffing installment (6509 words 😮‍💨). i'd suggest rereading at least the latter half of PART 23 beforehand if you need a refresh of the point in time we're returning to. please pretend that the old parts never happened. erase them from your memories 🕰️👁️‍🗨️💤🌀

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.24

It was barely 6AM. You'd hardly slept after Dave had returned you to the house. He'd watched you climb the stairs to the second floor, ever the persistent warden, before you'd heard him slink down to the basement he and Aurora had converted into their private apartment. Besides the numerous big reveals that had unfolded last night—Ajay's odd friendship with your sister, Simon's warped inverse of your ability, Maddie's soul penetrating the field of your cosmic artery, the soul-tie you and Wally somehow shared—besides all of that, something, a feeling of profound unrest, had kept you up. Had you staring at the green stars on Aiden's ceiling until your alarm began to chime.

Sharing a soul-tie with Wally should've been the thing that terrified you most amongst all that'd transpired. It was unheard of, curious, downright impossible in nature. Soul-ties were as fragile as they were strong and required both souls to be alive, together in the same lifetime in the world of the living, to exist. That Wally was extremely not alive should've made you question the validity of the connection you and he had. Especially given there was evidence of magical tampering on school grounds, a spiteful, bitter essence sickened into the ether that surrounded the campus.

And yet, that nor the symbol etched into the tree, that bastardized amalgamation of runic lines, hadn't been what you'd kept ruminating about from the moment you'd laid down until dawn. No, it'd been Dave. Something about how he'd come out of the trees, so steady and sure-footed; how his eyes had held your gaze as he'd marched toward you.

You pressed your fingers into your eyes and groaned. There was no use thinking about it further. Not now. You had a bouquet to put together and two friends to save. Dave's feline equilibrium had to wait. With a grunt you rolled out of Aiden's little-kid bed and shuffled into your room, not daring to check your appearance in the mirror. You could feel the bags under your eyes. Heavy and dark like someone had injected squid ink beneath the delicate skin.

Showering was a groggy, clumsy affair, appendages weak and a step behind your brain's transmissions. You did what you could to make yourself presentable, hoped to conceal the fatigue behind a cute outfit: A thin, loose, autumn-orange destination sweater tucked partially into a slim, black denim skirt with opaque black tights underneath. You applied makeup where you needed it to hide the sleep deprivation and called it at that, unable to muster the strength for much else. It was going to be a long, long, l o n g day.

But worth it, you reminded yourself firmly in a voice not unlike Wally's, because you were going to find a way to help Simon and once Simon was helped, you'd both find a way to get Maddie back on the right side of the veil.

A sweep of berry-tinted lipgloss and you dragged yourself outside into your Nanna's garden, brandishing a pair of pruning shears from the mud room you'd passed through on your way out. You clipped a variety of flowers and piled them on the bouquet paper you'd liberated from the stash Nanna (and now Aurora) kept at the house. Once accomplished, it was time to head out and you sighed in regret that you'd texted Xavier to sleep in, telling him you wanted to be alone that morning to center yourself before having to face your classmates after yesterday's ordeal.

It wasn't entirely false. It couldn't have been. You didn't lie to Xavier as a personal commandment. But it wasn't entirely the truth either and you felt queasy from it. Still, you sucked in a deep breath and forced yourself to move forward. Nanna was in the kitchen when you walked in with the bouquet, sitting at the table as she waited for the kettle to boil. You could smell the floral tea blend Nanna, Aurora, and Dave drank. Even dry the scent was potent, overwhelming the herb and warm spice aroma the kitchen usually held. You nearly gagged as you passed the open teapot, the concoction inside like a punch to the nose when you got too close.

"Good morning, Maypie." Nanna smiled warmly, patting the table in front of the seat beside her. The nickname irritated you, too close to the one you'd scolded Xavier for using yesterday, but it was Nanna and you couldn't find it in yourself to say something.

Instead, "Morning, Nanna," you greeted with a yawn, setting the bouquet on the counter as you traipsed toward the sink to fill a glass of water. "Can't sit. Gotta get to school."

Nanna hummed in acknowledgment and you could tell she was checking the time on the stove before she turned to face you in her chair. "Awfully early, isn't it?"

"So early," You agreed with a sob of disdain as you brought the glass to your lips for a sip of cold water. Your skin began to feel warm and wherever you rested your gaze seemed irrationally farther than where it should be. Shaking your head to dispel what you assumed was a lack of sleep, you took a deep drink from your glass.

Nanna tilted her head and raised a snowy brow at something near your elbow, "And who are those for?"

For a brief moment, you didn't grasp the question, casting about to understand. When your eyes landed on the bouquet beside the sink, you blinked slowly at it, lids like lead. The floral aroma itched your nostrils, traveled into your skull, a thick fog dampening your mental processing.

Sedate, you panned your head and stared properly at the bouquet, told Nanna, "It's for Maddie," confused as to why you'd believed you shouldn't. That desperate, nagging feeling you'd had earlier when thinking of last night—last night?—growled in warning in the back of your mind, but it was so far away you easily ignored it.

"Oh, how lovely," Nanna replied, standing to put her hands on your shoulders and rub your arms kindly, "I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture when she comes home."

"Who will appreciate what gesture?" Ginny croaked from the doorway, slugging into the kitchen in a silk robe and thick, knitted socks up to her knees. You knew she wore them to keep in place the gauze she slathered in anti-aging creams and wore overnight. Grumpy and rumpled, she questioned, "Who're the flowers for?"

You huffed a laugh as you watched her pull out a chair and drop into the seat, seeming as ill-suited to the morning as you.

"They're for Maddie," Nanna explained and, immediately, Ginny straightened, her glazed eyes turning sharp as they landed on you.

"She's back?" She asked.

You shook your head, "No," and you were tired, so tired, and couldn't quite seem to formulate the words to explain why you were taking flowers to school for Maddie who hadn't actually returned from wherever she'd run off to in order to accept them.

"Is it a shrine thing?" Ginny asked.

A feeling of awareness clawed through the mist that had filled your head. You felt an insidious tickle in the back of your nose, gasped a breath, and then released a cathartic blast of a sneeze, expelling that horrible, heady floral scent.

You blinked several times as you recovered your wits, glancing at the bouquet and then between Nanna and Ginny, at last able to think clearly, "Something like that. We're just trying to stay positive. Principal Hartman said he'd pass along whatever we bring in to Maddie's mom." And there you were, feeling like yourself again, able to map out a plausible lie to keep Wally (and, by extension, Maddie-as-a-ghost) safe from whatever Ginny or your mother could do if they discovered you were conspiring with the school's dead.

Ginny returned to a slouch, propping her head on her fist, "That's nice of you." She looked halfway back to sleep when you gave her a kiss goodbye, patting your thigh limply and muttering a slurred farewell. As you shrugged into your leather jacket, you heard Ginny scoff at Nanna, barking, "Don't you bring that nasty stuff near me, I don't know how you drink it," and couldn't help but snort because, truly, not even a man dying of thirst would accept a cup of that tea.

"I'm taking mom's car." You announced, peeking back into the kitchen. Your mother was on what constituted for her as a work trip; taking money to perform a ceremony that had no bearing on the ghosts—if they hadn't already crossed over as many of them had—at all. The concept was as stupid as it was a scam and you were revolted that someone in your family, who you'd once respected, was capable of performing such a farce.

Fucking. Ghost weddings.

You pressed your lips in a line in an effort to control the disgusted expression you knew you'd make upon thinking about it. Without looking at you, Nanna and Ginny gave their assent and carried on bickering after wishing you a pleasant day.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

"So," Maddie said in a neutral tone which set Wally's teeth on edge, "How long have you guys really known each other?"

It was just him and her outside, lingering by the door waiting for you and Xavier to arrive. Wally leaned while Maddie sat on an empty bike rack adjacent to the entrance, looking out over the parking lot like watchmen on duty. The others were inside; Ajay had vowed to coax Mina down from the rafters while Charlie and Rhonda had simply wanted to observe how that interaction went after learning Ajay and Mina were entangled in their own version of a relationship. Strange and unconventional and, apparently, wholesome though Wally had no idea what that meant coming from Ajay.

"I was wondering when you were gonna ask me." Wally said, ducking his head sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck. He lifted his gaze to Maddie, "Not long. Since Field Day."

Maddie's brows raised, but she remained composed. After a few moments of silence, Maddie spoke again, a smile in her voice, "She talked about you a lot."

Wally swallowed, his heart fluttering at the information, unable to repress the feeling of giddiness that fizzled through him. Regardless, he tried to play it cool, "Yeah?"

"Yeah. She always said her 'ghost was so hot' and that she was 'saving herself for her ghost'." She paused, chewed her lip, and stared down at her lap as she thought about what to say next. "Looking back, I guess she thought she could hide in plain sight." And then, with a snort, "And it worked. None of us believed her for a second. It never even crossed my mind that it could be true until I got here."

Wally nudged her side in a friendly motion. "Was she right?" He snickered, teasing, "Am I hot?"

Maddie shoved his head down playfully with a laugh, "You're an idiot." Another comfortable beat. She hummed quietly before she revealed in a gentle tone, "You two are cute together. If it means anything."

"It does," Wally said and it was true. It was more reassuring than it should've been to have someone on the outside see what he saw. Cemented it somehow.

Another few minutes passed before a car pulled into the parking lot. Maddie jumped down from her perch, face screwed up in confusion, "Wasn't she bringing Xavier?"

Wally could see the tension she'd been holding in her shoulders slowly diminish as you parked and climbed out. Alone. He and Maddie made their way over to greet you, twin smiles of relief on their faces. Wally hadn't been keen to see that dickbag anytime soon. It was better for everyone that you'd decided to leave him behind.

"Hey guys," You said, eyes automatically finding Wally's, his heart beating that much harder in his chest. You seemed to read the unspoken question and informed, "I thought we'd get more accomplished if Xavier wasn't here."

Maddie nodded, "Smart," visibly grateful for your forethought.

Wally treaded around the front of the car you'd driven and scooped you up into a solid hold, one arm under your thighs while the other clamped at a diagonal on your back, his hand tangling in your hair. Looking at you closely, he could see the exhaustion beneath the surface and felt a pang of guilt for agreeing with everyone (including you) that you should come as early as permissible by school standards.

"Hey, baby," He uttered, pressed his forehead to yours with a lopsided, affectionate grin, and hinted greedily for a kiss that you supplied without complaint. He almost groaned as your lips yielded under his, the simple touch striking a match low in his belly. Fuck, he wanted you. Like, always. Was hardwired at this point to get aroused whenever you were within arm's length. It was driving him half insane that he couldn't climb into the back of the car with you, have you straddle his lap, and show you how affected he was by you.

"Rhonda's right," Maddie commented from the sidelines, referencing something Rhonda had said the previous night after you'd left with your brother-in-law. "You guys are gross."

You pulled away from Wally with a cackle, prompting him to place you back on your feet, and said, "Oh, like you and Zav aren't just as bad."

Twirling around and bending (very nicely) into the backseat of the car to collect your things, you didn't see the look that flashed across Maddie's face, one of hurt and betrayal and anger, but Wally did and it made him want to grab you by the shoulders, and shake you until you stopped thinking the world of Xavier Baxter. He wouldn't dare do that, of course, you were too precious, and he couldn't imagine doing anything to frighten you like that. On the contrary, he'd proudly do things to Xavier that would earn Wally a spot on a Most Wanted list if he'd still been alive.

He pushed those thoughts down when you straightened, lifting a lush, full bouquet into your arms which you handed over to Maddie in a way that signaled to Wally you and she were used to each other's motions and mannerisms. Again, you reached into the car, grabbed your backpack, and hoisted it out of the backseat. Wally noticed that it seemed to weigh more to you than normal and took it from you, slinging it over his shoulder with a broad grin.

"Such a gentleman," You teased, though Wally could see how much you enjoyed the gesture by the way you pinked up so sweetly. He slung his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side as you and he walked, stamping a kiss to your hair and openly breathing in the scent of musky vanilla and coconut.

"Wait." Maddie said, just as you and Wally were about to reach the door. You and he paused, turning to look at Maddie as she regarded the bouquet in her hands and then the backpack on Wally's shoulder, an intense cast to her features. "How..." She squinted at you, "Where are the originals?" Scanned back to the car, then you, then the bouquet.

"Originals?" You asked, completely lost, though Wally recognized what Maddie meant. It hadn't occurred to him how unfeasible it was that he still had the notes you'd given him stashed away in his private, just-for-him corner of the school; none of the resets between now and then had vanished them as resets were wont to do.

"Yeah, the originals." Maddie repeated.

Wally stepped in, taking over the explanation since Maddie appeared to struggle with how to phrase that every object they, as ghosts, picked up was just a clone of one that stayed anchored in the living world. He did his best to describe it, beckoning both you and Maddie to follow him so he could show you an example with a piece of chalk in an unlocked classroom. He lifted it, of course wielding the copy while the original remained in place, untouched, not even a sign that it'd been tampered with.

You cocked your head, lifting the original and handing it to Maddie who took it without issue. Experimenting, Maddie placed it back on the chalk ledge, left it there for multiple seconds, and then instructed Wally to, "Pick it up now."

Wally did.

As in he actually did. Picked up the original, no immense, herculean emphasis of energy required (and that very, very rarely worked, normally resulting in a brief flicker of an already on-its-way-out lightbulb). How had Wally not noticed before?

"Gnarly," Wally laughed, tossing the chalk in the air and catching it. "Do you think the living see it floating if I'm holding it?" He began to zoom it around like a toy airplane. "I wonder if it works the other way."

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"Like, things that we brought with us into the afterlife," Maddie clarified, "Do you think you could make them real on your side?"

You shrugged and admitted, "I didn't even know I could do this until you guys pointed it out." And then you sighed and rubbed your temples, "Another thing to add to the laundry list of stuff I have to look in to." You looked at Maddie, "I'd probably need someone who can't see you guys to confirm whether or not it works both ways."

Wally strode over to you, putting the chalk back down on the ledge as he went. He adjusted the weight of your backpack on his shoulder so he could cradle your face in both of his big palms. "One thing at a time, baby," He said, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, "Let's check off giving Mina the flowers and then go from there, okay?"

You slumped, thankful, and slanted into him so that your forehead was pressed to the center of his chest, "That sounds like a good plan."

Together, you, Wally, and Maddie strolled to the theater, passing Mr. South who welcomed you with a friendly wave and a short hello. His eyes seemed to flicker this way and that, as if sensitive to the school lighting, as he watched you walk by, Maddie close to your side, Wally a half-step behind and falling farther back as he studied Mr. South. Vaguely, he heard the man mutter, "Mm, dahlias," but that was about as much fuss as he expressed. Nothing to indicate Mr. South saw a puppeted bouquet or levitating backpack drifting down the hall of their own volition.

Wally caught up to you and Maddie quickly, his hand finding the small of your back on instinct. Rhonda and Charlie were already outside the theater when you, Maddie, and Wally arrived, Charlie rising from where he'd been seated on the floor as Rhonda pushed herself off the wall, today's lollipop stuffed into her cheek.

"Well, Ajay got her down," She announced, rolling her eyes, "But she refuses to talk to us. She won't even answer Ajay if he asks because she knows the questions aren't his." Belligerent, Rhonda shook her head, "And I thought Janet was a diva."

Charley shook his head, "I'm sorry, but that," He hooked his thumb over his shoulder to stipulate Mina's behavior, "isn't anywhere near as bad as Janet was. At least Mina was polite when she told us where to go."

Rhonda conceded with a bob of her head, pursed lips, and raised brows. Upon noticing the flowers, she remarked, "Huh, you came through, strawberry pie," her tone impressed, "Next time you should bring lover boy a new wardrobe," a smirk at Wally and a coy look at you, "He looks pretty good in jeans."

Wally cleared his throat and squeezed you to him tightly, his gaze soft and imploring as he said, "Ignore her, you don't have to bring me anything," then to Rhonda, "She's not our personal gofer."

Rhonda raised her hands in surrender, glimpsing at Charley in amusement, "No need to blow your jets, superstar, it was just a suggestion."

Charley added, "And a joke," as he gave Rhonda a sardonic side-eye. "So, should we get this over with? See if our Split River Phantom has anything useful to share?"

You patted Wally's chest to signal for your backpack which he handed over with a pout, disliking the idea of you hauling it around when you were so tired.

"You guys go do that. I'm going to steal Ajay and see if we can figure out what these symbols mean." You looked at Maddie, "If you guys find anything, let me know."

"How?" Maddie wondered. It wasn't as if she still had a means of communication in the afterlife; the decoy phone had been with Xavier when she'd been thrown from her body, and, as far as Wally knew, her real phone was in pieces. Even if she did have a phone...would it have worked? Wally had heard Dawn brag about her 'socials', but she wasn't actually capturing or uploading selfies...was she?

Before he could fall too far down that rabbit hole, he felt your hand grasp his, fingers twined, skin smooth under his thumb. You grinned at Maddie, "That's the best part," you brought your and Wally's joined hands up, "If Ajay and I don't get back before you're done, just manipulate the connection. Wally and I—"

"Don't know if it'll work!" He interrupted, worried that you might've forgotten that all those times he'd felt your emotions like his own or found you in crowded spaces had happened before last night.

It seemed you had because you blinked those darling Bambi eyes up at him, visibly uncertain. Wally saw the instant you realized your mistake, could see the gears turning as you backtracked and reassembled your speech. It didn't take long, maybe a second or two, and then you picked up where you'd left off, saying, "—but it should make it so he can find me."

Rhonda twirled her lollipop, whistled in surprise, "Magic is in.sane."

"It's not magic," You stated mildly, "It's connectedness. I promise there is a difference." You listed into Wally's side, turned your head to hide a yawn, and then seemed to try to shake yourself awake.

In response, Wally, cupped the back of your head and kissed your hair, rubbing his hand up and down your arm while holding you closer. "You gonna be okay?" He asked, concerned that you might not be able to stay upright much longer.

"I'll be fine," You said, however, the assurance you'd meant to offer was dimmed by another yawn you couldn't suppress.

It was then that Ajay appeared. He held the door to the theater open for Charley, Rhonda, and Maddie who waved their see-you-laters to you. Wally released you in measured degrees, careful and considerate, so you wouldn't fall into the space he left behind.

"I'm coming to find you as soon as we get something, okay, baby?"

You nodded, a forced smile on your face that made Wally want to carry you home and tuck you into your bed. Innocently. Innocently. But he couldn't help himself, dipping in to capture your lips in a gentle kiss that still somehow made his breath catch and his heart pound and his belly coil tight with desire.

"Okay, we get it, you're hot for each other, can we go now?" Ajay's voice cut through the muggy atmosphere that now permeated between you and Wally, exasperation pitched shrill as a school bell.

Wally untangled himself from you, hated having to do it, but understood that it needed to be done in order for both you and him to focus on what was important. That was finding clues or proof that Mr. Anderson was involved in Maddie's circumstances and pointing the police away from Simon. Right. Wally was an independent, capable guy who could do what it took to help. He just didn't want to do it without you plastered to him in some way.

"That face is exactly why you two can't be around each other right now." Ajay stated flatly, all but shoving Wally aside and ushering you back down the hall.

With a chuckle, Wally called after you, "I'll see you later, baby!"

"If either of you say 'I'll miss you', I'm boycotting this relationship until I can cross over." Ajay declared, not allowing you to stop and respond.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Xavier sat behind the wheel of his truck, nervous, jittery; inching toward full-blown paranoia after having stopped at your house to pick you up. He'd received your message earlier, the one that had gently told him to stay home and sleep in since you weren't going to crusade after evidence against Mr. Anderson until a more appropriate hour.

But he hadn't been able to get back to sleep, had instead sat in bed contemplating how fucked up everything would inevitably get. And he was scared. Your newfound friendship with Simon made Xavier's veins clog with cold, slimy fear. He had no idea if Maddie had read the message he'd accidentally sent her ("The coast is clear, I'm alone. Wanna see you, babe, so hurry up."). Had no idea if she'd told Simon about Xavier and Claire. Simon hadn't outright accused Xavier of cheating on Maddie—not to Xavier's face, anyway—but, if Simon did know, it was only a matter of time before it came up and Xavier lost you forever.

Fueled by anxiety and desperation, Xavier had dressed and left the house in a flurry, drove over and at the speed limit in frenzied intervals as he'd forgotten and remembered it by turns. He'd arrived at your place faster than ever before only to discover that, according to Abigail, you'd left about forty-five minutes earlier. Granted, you hadn't explicitly said you'd want to spend the morning by yourself at home, but Xavier couldn't shake the feeling that something was utterly and profoundly wrong.

Why go to the school alone? Why leave him out of it? An agitated growl ruptured from his throat as he smacked the steering wheel, tears springing to his eyes unbidden. He pulled in huge gulps of air to stop himself from tipping into a panicked breakdown, begged the universe or God or whatever was out there that he was overthinking it, that you weren't slipping away from him and everything was okay, it was all going to be okay.

Except it wasn't okay. He'd fucked up and fucked around and made you participate by sending texts about band practices that'd never been scheduled, lies about how you'd needed help around the house and Xavier was family so he'd been obligated to assist. Jesus Christ, what had he done? He couldn't breathe, a balloon in his chest that expanded the closer he got to the school. When he pulled in and saw your mother's car, he was already one foot into a mental crisis.

He parked beside your mother's car and sat for a moment, filtering through a litany of excuses and reasons and apologies to retch at your feet in libation. Xavier couldn't. lose. you. Not you. The only person left in his life who fucking mattered. Hurt and anger and grief and hopelessness funneled into him, a tornado of self-deprecation howling insults that ricocheted inside his skull, the torment building and building and—

"FUCK." He belted, smashing the steering wheel over and over again until his body collapsed forward and he heaved a thick, wet sob.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

The other vertices in the barrier projected outward from symbols that varied slightly from the first you'd found. Two were etched in stone, one in a tree planted on the same alignment as the other, and the last had been burned so thoroughly into the dirt that you couldn't dig under it or dig it up.

"Can we call it magic now?" Ajay folded his arms and thinned his lips in a dour line as he watched you dog-dig at the dirt from a new angle. "Because this feels like magic."

You huffed and let yourself fall back on your bum, mopping the sweat from your brow with the sleeve of your sweater. "I mean, it's harnessed energy," you countered, still reluctant to call it something so fantastical when you had dirt caked under your fingernails and math class in twenty minutes. Those mundane, ultra-ordinary truths made it difficult to reconcile the existence of something Harry Potter fought a war with.

Ajay wasn't having it, "Girl, just say it. It's magic."

A squawky noise of denial later and you snapped a picture of the symbol on your phone, finally standing and returning to your backpack which you'd left at Ajay's feet. You dug out the notebook you'd used to scribble down the Futhark alphabet last night before tiptoeing back into Aiden's room and compared the symbol in the dirt to the runes on the page.

"It's like the others," You observed, "It has all the binding elements, except this one also has an extra line here..." You indicated, chewed your lip in thought, frustrated when nothing jumped out at you. Whoever had created these symbols and performed the ritual that accompanied them had either not known anything about the Futhark runes or they'd known too much. Which meant that you had no way of decoding the bastardized symbols by yourself. At least, not without major effort.

"An extra line?" Ajay echoed, "To make us extra trapped?"

You slanted him an unimpressed look, "No, Sassy McQueen...but also kind of yes."

Ajay flashed a victorious grin then crouched to look over your shoulder at your notebook. "Why would someone want to trap ghosts here?"

"Maybe they didn't." You considered as you brainstormed aloud, "Maybe they wanted to trap something and didn't realize the effect their spell—"

"Which is magic."

"—Nghyah," You declined and then continued, "The effect their spell would have on the different realms within the parcel they created."

"I know English isn't my first language, but I can tell that wouldn't make sense to anyone."

You rolled your eyes, clapping your notebook closed and filing it away in your backpack. "Think of the spell like a box. Whoever cast it brought that box down on this specific location, trapping everything in this location in it. But it only affects things outside of the physical world because it's not a physical box."

"...Have you ever seen the Witches of Eastwick?"

"Have you?"

You straightened, bowing your back to loosen the stiffness that had collected in your spine. Ajay took responsibility of your backpack and together you and he walked back toward the school.

After a short silence, Ajay spoke, "You know, Wally mentioned a cult that used to practice around here. He's really into that spooky-ooky, creepy shit." He emphasized with spirit fingers.

You stopped and stared after Ajay, eyes round and mouth ajar, "Wally? Golden retriever, football bro, Wally?"

Ajay turned to walk backward, smiling, "Oh yeah. He was into it before he died, too. A real savant of the deranged history of Split River." He pondered you for a moment and then muttered, "You know you two are allowed to talk when you're alone, right?"

Kissing your teeth, you resumed your stride, waving Ajay off, "In our defense, we haven't actually had a lot of time to be alone since we started talking."

Ajay snorted, but merrily settled his pace to match yours, his gait slower and longer, "He was alive during the rise of the Satanic Panic. If I'm remembering right, he told me about a cult called the Something-Something of Dagda."

"Very helpful."

"They were established before Milwaukee was founded and then faded out of history for awhile."

You sighed drearily, having heard similar tales through the family grapevine as well as your own special-interest research, "Let me guess, the Something-Something of Dagda made a comeback in the '20s when it was fashionable to be associated with the occult?"

Ajay nodded, "I think that's what Wally said. Apparently, they crawled back into the shadows, never to be heard from again, just after the Second World War."

"Typical," You chuckled, shaking your head, "You join a resurrectionist cult and then leave when—"

"How do you know it was resurrectionist?"

"I'm assuming." You confessed, "Dagda is a Celtic god whose staff can resurrect or kill whoever he clubs with it." When Ajay acknowledged your answer with a low oh, you expanded on your previous point, "I guess the members didn't like that their sons didn't all come home in one piece." To put it crudely. Unfortunately, that was the reality of many cults borne from the spiritualism boom in the 1920s. People either got bored or got bitter when their prophet couldn't stand and deliver in the face of a catastrophic global event.

You and Ajay entered the theater from the side door to avoid the students who began to flood the halls as the morning trundled toward the first bell. You found Maddie rising like the second coming out of the center of the stage, followed closely by Wally and then Rhonda, Charley, and lastly, Mina who turned and closed the trap door behind her.

"You find anything?" You inquired as Wally neared you, eagerness writ all over his features.

"Yeah!" Wally grinned, planting himself in front of you to band his arms around your waist, "You?"

"The symbols are definitely based on the Futhark alphabet and they're all designed to keep energies in." You said, snuggling into his front, happy to let him take your weight. He shifted you around so you and he could walk toward the stage, everyone gathered around a spot at the end of the center aisle. Rhonda and Charley sat on the edge of the stage, Ajay joined Mina who leaned beside Charley's legs, and Maddie stood with her back to the door, facing everyone.

As soon as you were within reach, she held out a piece of paper, informing you that, "It's a receipt for new band uniforms signed by Mr. Anderson." You scanned the paper, trying to absorb where it fit in the puzzle, but your brain was rapidly losing steam. Seeming to read your fatigue, Maddie interpreted it on your behalf, "I think he's been stealing money from Booster Club. He's got a whole operation under the stage to sew new patches onto old band uniforms."

All you could think to respond with was, "Holy shit."

"It doesn't prove he had anything to do with what happened to me," Maddie went on, "But I think it'll help Simon."

"Maddie this is awesome." You smiled encouragingly and shambled forward to hug her. With your arm still around her shoulders, you and she looked over the receipt again, particularly the cash amount at the bottom, "Is that how much you figure was in the closet?"

"I'd say it for sure is." She answered, her gaze turning a trepidatious sort of hopeful, "It's Friday, so there's a staff meeting tonight. If we give this to Simon, he can prove that Mr. Anderson is guilty of something and then we can try to figure out where my body is. Together."

"Together." You repeated with a grin because, God dammit, finally, you felt like progress was being made. While not the kind of progress you'd hoped for, it was something, and now that you knew Simon could see Maddie, you didn't have to swerve around landmines in conversation to hide your abilities; you could let him in instead.

It was one step closer to bringing Maddie home.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Xavier hated himself more than he had before his breakdown, having succumbed to the siren call of his vape in the dissociative aftermath. He skulked into the school, shoulders up and hands stuffed in his pockets in an effort to make himself invisible. He wasn't going to his first class, wasn't entirely aware of where he was going, but he followed his feet nonetheless. Since the blissful first hit, his mind had quieted some, though his nerves were still ragged, eyes puffy and bloodshot, hair rumpled, a scab on his lip where he'd bitten it too hard to redirect the emotional pain he'd inflicted on himself.

He was distantly surprised to find himself standing in front of the theater when he eventually lifted his gaze from the ground. Without giving it too much thought, he reached out and opened the door, stepping into the shadowy space beyond. For a moment, a cotton-candy static fuzzed across his brain and made it hard to process whether or not what his eyes saw was real.

It couldn't be, could it?

At the end of the center aisle, you stood, body wilted from exhaustion. Around you were incoherent silhouettes that phased in and out of focus, nothing substantial to them, just distorted shadows that seemed out of place against the direction of what muted light filtered into the theater. What made his breath catch and the balloon in his chest swell bigger wasn't you, standing in the dark, or the uncanny shadows, it was—

"Maddie," He croaked, voice reedy and tight, "You came back."

The fuzziness in his head was instantly replaced by fear when his gaze slid to you, an expression on your face—wide eyes, parted lips, furrowed brows—that Xavier readily interpreted as betrayal. The darkness crowded against him, the rampage of wailing curses picked up within him again, screaming at him for how worthless and stupid and vile he was to do what he'd done.

"I-I'm so sorry," He choked out, pushing the words past the balloon that had expanded from his chest into his throat. Maddie's expression didn't change, something akin to alarm or hate or defeat or all three, he didn't know because his vision was beginning to cloud. "I'm so, so sorry." And then he stumbled sideways, falling into one of the empty seats, curling himself into a ball as if he could make himself disappear. Everything would be better, so much better, if he could just...stop being.

Xavier didn't realize he was crying until he felt your hands on him, pushing his arms away from his head, forcing him to kneel on the ground with you.

"Zav? What's happening? Are you okay? Zav!"

Your words sounded spoken through water and he couldn't get his head above the surface, couldn't breathe, couldn't answer, his body wracked violently with stinging sobs as he kept trying to apologize. He grappled at your back, pinned you against him, a buoy to keep him afloat as the waves crashed over him and threatened to pull him down into the cavernous abyss below.

"I'm sorry, please, don't leave me, I'm so sorry," He begged you, but couldn't hear himself, so he repeated them louder and louder until his throat scraped.

This is the moment, a facsimile of Maddie's voice told him, this is the moment you lose everyone.

And then another voice, unfamiliar, louder than Xavier's, louder than Maddie's, began to roar:

💀___________________________

PART TWENTY-THREE

note: i am of the belief that Mr. South is spooky in his own right and doesn't need Reader to expose him to the supernatural. agree with me or not, his ominous words to Simon at the beginning of the season set me on a path that i can't ignore 🤭

i really hope you guys are okay with how i'm reworking this. i know i gave away a pretty major spoiler, and i regret that so much because i dearly want you all to enjoy this, but it had to be done. otherwise i was more than likely going to throw in the towel. rest assured, there is SO MUCH more to unfold.

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ABOUT THE TAGLIST: y'all know, it ain't a thing around here anymore due to the overuse of ritual magic, some demon-summoning, and an unfortunate sacrifice that resulted in more technical issues than tumblr could handle 🔮🗡️ if you'd like to be kept up-to-date, please FOLLOW ME and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS. we have fun here (•¯ ∀ ¯•)

[rambheem-is-real]

Snail Fic

varadeva, crackfic based on server convos

Kid Deva is afraid of snails.

-

1981

Deva runs over to his father, dutifully presenting the bundle of documents Amma had sent with him. 

Dhaara smiles down at him, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Look at my boy, so responsible.” Deva feels his chest puff with pride. “Six years old and already going on important missions for the tribe.” Dhaara pokes Deva’s cheek, and Deva giggles. 

His father takes the documents, glancing down at them before setting them on the desk, and then returns his attention to Deva. “Well? Didn’t your mother tell you to come back home once you’re done here?”

Deva doesn’t move, but his lips drop down into a pout. Dhaara chuckles. “Alright, alright, I did promise you last week that I would take you into the Shouryanga forges,” he says, and Deva bounces on his toes, giddy over the fact that he’d get to see where his father worked most of the week, when he wasn’t at home or in political meetings with the rest of the tribe council. “Follow me.” 

Dhaara reaches towards the documents on the desk, then stops. “Not again,” he sighs. “We’ll have to get new ones, chinna.”

Deva walks over to the desk, leaning on his tippy-toes to see the papers. He gasps when he sees that they look.. wet? He quickly scans the rest of the surface. The cup of coffee is on the far side, and there’s no way it would’ve spilled all the way over here. However, there seems to be a trail of wetness across a corner of the desk, the one that the papers were close to. “What happened?” he asks. 

“Snail,” Dhaara says. “Now come on,” he gestures towards the door, but Deva stays put. 

“What’s a snail?”

“It’s an animal,” Dhaara explains. “It’s tiny and when it moves it leaves behind a trail of mucus.”

Deva glares at the wetness. Mucus, Dhaara had called it. How dare this snail ruin Nanna’s papers! he thinks. He turns back to Dhaara, shaking his head. “There’s a snail in here,” he says, and as always Dhaara understands his son perfectly. 

He chuckles at the little boy. “What, you’re gonna stay here until you catch it?” 

Deva nods, imagining himself as one of the superheroes in the comic books Varadha had stolen from Rudra. 

“And then what? You’ll kill it?” 

Deva immediately deflates. He hadn’t gotten that far in his imagination. How hard would it be to kill a snail?

“Chinna,” Dhaara tries to reason with him, but Deva’s already turning his back on him, pushing a chubby finger through the mucus on the desk. 

Determined little wolf, Dhaara thinks affectionately. He’s going to be a great leader. Chuckling, he makes his way out of the office room. Dhaara’s halfway outside the door when he hears an ear splitting scream, and immediately races back inside, heart pounding. That had been his son.

Expecting Mannarsi soldiers, Ghaniyar spies, or a ferocious beast of an animal, Dhaara runs into the office to see Deva sitting on the floor, staring agape at the desk, clutching his left hand to his chest. 

“Deva?!” 

Deva turns to look at him, still shocked, and wails, “SNAIL!”

Dhaara has to fight to not immediately burst out laughing at the mental image of what must have happened. Oh my God, he thinks, he’s terrified of snails. His brave little wolf cub, who wasn’t afraid of the dark, snakes, spiders, Raja Mannar’s scowling face, or anything a typical child might be afraid of, was terrified of snails.  He gently approaches his son, trying his best to keep a straight face. “Did you touch it?”

Deva nods, and a tear slips down his face. “It was so sticky,” he whispers. 

Dhaara scoops Deva up into his arms, and Deva doesn’t protest, only curling around him and resting his head on Dhaara’s neck. “It’s okay, chinna. Let’s just go home.” He only hopes Deva doesn’t feel the way he’s shaking from keeping the laughter in. 

-

1985

“-and those wisps up there, they’re called cirrus clouds,” Varadha explains, pointing to said clouds. Deva nods, listening raptly. His Varadha was so smart. 

They’re enjoying a leisurely day in the meadow, both of them not having any clan-related duties for the time being. Deva had brought a blanket for them to sit on, and Varadha had brought some biscuits to snack on. They spent most of the morning chasing each other in the grass, until they got tired and laid down, Deva’s head resting on Varadha’s chest, as he talked Deva’s ear off about what he learned that week from his science tutor. Not that Deva had any complaints. It was cool information, and even cooler coming from his best friend. 

“The water cycle-” Varadha cuts himself off, but Deva just closes his eyes, soaking in the sun, the cool ground underneath, and the feeling of Varadha so close to him. This was bliss. 

“Oh hey, little one,” Varadha croons. He’s probably found another frog or something, Deva thinks. Varadha had a problem when it came to animals, always wanting to cuddle the ones he thought were cute even if it meant it might be dangerous. “You’re adorable. Rey, Deva, look at this!” 

Deva feels something dropped onto his chest, and figures it's the frog. “What should I name him?” He opens his eyes, aiming to only briefly glance at the thing and offer a suitable name for Varadha, before going back to relaxing. 

Deva’s met with an abomination of a creature, its white eyes staring Deva down from the V of its antennae. He immediately lets out a strangled scream, body jolting in terror. 

Varadha immediately turns to him in confusion. “Deva? What’s wrong?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

Deva can’t let Varadha know about his fear. No self respecting ten-year-old should be scared of snails. Besides, it was usually Varadha being scared about something and coming to Deva for reassurance (that Deva would gladly provide), not the other way around. Varadha wouldn’t think Deva was cool if he ever found out about the snail problem. 

“Nothing, ra. Just thought I felt something.” 

“Oh, ok,” Varadha says, although he still sounds suspicious. “You’re alright then?”

Deva forces himself to look away from the beast’s horrific body, crawling around right on his chest , and towards Varadha, still worried. He plasters on a fake grin. “Of course! Never better! Absolutely jolly.” 

Varadha raises his eyebrow. “‘Absolutely jolly’? What the hell, ra?”

He’s gotta do something about this. Deva leaps to his feet, turning his back on Varadha, brushing away the snail as quickly as he can, shuddering at the wet sensation on his knuckles. 

“I think I’m just tired, I’m gonna go home and sleep,” he tells his friend. Go home and cry, more like, Deva thinks to himself. It was so wet-

“You dropped him!” Deva whips around to see Varadha lunge towards the fucking snail between Deva’s legs, cradling it within his hands as if it were some angelic being. Varadha smiles down at the way it squirms, not noticing the way Deva’s body is doing the same thing in the presence of the snail. “I think I’ll call him Deva Jr.”

Deva bites back all the swears he knows, which are honestly not a lot. “Ok, have fun with your snail. I’ll see you tomorrow, ra,” Deva calls back as he starts to speedwalk his way out of the meadow, determinedly not looking back. 

“Rey! Picchoda, you forgot your blanket!” Varadha calls out, and there was definitely suspicion in his voice. 

“Bring it to me tomorrow!” Deva shouts back. As soon as he’s out of the field and within the trees he starts running. 

-

Snails. Hundreds of tiny ones. They were slowly gaining on Deva, mucus trailing behind them. Deva backs up into a wall, eyes wide as he realizes there’s no way out. The snails crawl up his body, up his face, in his-

“Rey, wake up, Amma is calling!” 

Deva wakes up gasping. He stares at Varadha in his room, and Varadha stares back until he seems to realize he had something to say. 

“Oh! I’m here to return this,” he explains, and shows Deva the blanket, putting it on the foot of the bed before he scampers back to Deva. “Don’t have time the rest of today, I’m helping Thatha with the Bharghat negotiations!” Varadha beams at Deva, clearly excited, and Deva can’t help but smile back. His Vara was too cute. 

Something wet brushes his arm, and Deva yanks it out of the bedsheets. Both he and Varadha look at the white snail suctioned to Deva’s arm. He’s too tired to pretend he’s not scared out of his mind, he just woke up for God’s sake. Deva screams. 

He wiggles his arm around in the air, trying to get the snail to fly off, but the snail is sticking to him with the mucus. Varadha watches, eyes wide. “So THAT’s why you left so early yesterday?” 

Deva tries flicking the snail with his other hand, but that doesn’t do anything either. 

“You’re afraid of SNAILS?”

“NO I’M NOT,” Deva yells back, resorting to slapping at the arm. The snail crawls forward during a brief pause of Deva’s hand swatting at it, and Deva screams once again. 

“YES YOU ARE!” Varadha cackles.He gently grips the body of the snail and pulls it until the suction gives way. He grins at Deva, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. “What were you even trying to do? You couldn’t have just told me?” 

Deva looks down at his hands, frowning. “You’d think I was a coward.”

Quickly, Varadha darts in and gives Deva a hug. When he pulls back, Varadha gives him a soft smile. “Rey. You’re the bravest person I know. Even now.”

Deva perks up at that. “Really?”

Varadha nods. “Of course. And the snail thing,” he grins bashfully, “just makes you cuter.” 

Deva feels his ears burning. Cuter. His Varadha’s voice calling him that is going to rattle around in his head forever. 

“Rey Deva, wake up, how many times must I yell?” The voice of Deva’s mother seems to bring Varadha back to reality. 

“Oh, I’m gonna be late. Bye, ra!” Varadha calls out as he runs out of the room. He peaks around from the door, shit-eating grin on his face. “Of course, you can visit Deva Jr. anytime you want in Kotagadi!” 

“Yedava!” Deva yells, throwing a pillow at his friend, and Varadha easily dodges, laughing as he leaves the hallway. Deva can’t help but smile though. 

Cuter.

-

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Dali and Henrique with a partner who teaches their kids her native tongue?

Dali had to admit, though he wanted to go this parenting thing alone at first, it was much easier putting the children to bed with two people.

While he busied himself with picking up the nursery, getting it ready to be destroyed the next day like Sisyphus & his boulder, while [Y/N] sent them off to dream land. Once he finished cleaning up, Dali went to their bedroom to tuck them in as well. A soft, sweet song coming from the open door as he got closer.

Stella stellina La notte s’avvicina La fiamma traballa La mucca è nella stalla

La mucca e il vitello La pecora e l’agnello La chioccia e il pulcino Ognuno ha il suo bambino Ognuno ha la sua mamma E tutti fan la nanna

He couldn’t understand the words, but recognized it was a lullaby and one his sons seemed to know well. Ul already drifting to sleep in his crib and Raphael quietly singing along before his eye couldn’t stay open anymore. “To drift off to sleep to the sound of angels. My boys sure are lucky.”

[Y/N] turned to look over their shoulder and gave Dali a smile. “They won’t be asleep much longer if you don’t keep it down.”

Dali smile back, but still came into the room to give Ul & Raphael a soft kiss goodnight. Hearing Raphael give a sleepy “Buona notte” before leaving with [Y/N] in toe. “What does the song mean?”

“The song? Oh, it’s just a silly little song about the stars being out and it’s time to go to bed. My mother used to sing it to me when I was little.”

His smile deepened. As a noble, Dali had no such memories as a child. Nannies, or Clara, being the only ones to sing him to sleep, if it ever happened. Their country must be very different when it came to family, along with their language. “You will have to teach it to me sometime.”

[Y/N] smiled. “Well, there’s no time like the present!”

It was late in the evening when Henrique came home from work that evening. With a vacation planned to visit [Y/N]’s home in France, there were a lot of things he had to do before they'd finally let Henrique be happy. He sighed as he came in the door. The things he did for love.

Vaulting up the stairs to see his girls, Henrique found them in one of the playrooms. Patiently sitting there with [Y/N] at the table.

“Bonjour papa!”

“Bonjour papa!” Lucia and Elena greeted him in tandem. “Comment s'est passé le travail ce soir?”

“Wow!” Henrique praised. “You girls sound like real Parisian children.”

[Y/N] chuckled. “Well, I can’t have them visiting my homeland, nor any of the couturier we plan to visit, speaking like uncultured urchins.”

“Do you want to try papa?” Elena asked.

“Yes! I’m sure papa would be très bien!”

Henrique chuckled as he sat down at the table too. “Sorry girls. The only French your papa knows is ‘champagne’ and ‘croissant’.”

The girls giggled. “Well, I guess that’s all you need to get by.” [Y/N] told him.

“Hasn’t failed me yet!”

When the girls darted off to go play, once they were bored with their lesson, Henrique came around the table to stand next to [Y/N]. “You know, there is one more bit of French I do know.”

Curious, [Y/N] asked him, “Oh? What’s that?” With a grin Henrique leaned in to whisper in their ear. Their face went immediately red and they swatted him in the arm. “Henrique!” They exclaimed. “Where did you hear that from?!”

“From you.” Henrique laughed. Realizing that they hadn’t known that they slipped into their mother tongue when they were in bed together.

Henrique thought it was very cute. And though not a lesson for children, he’d have to see if it got ‘worse’ when they were in Paris.

[stargazer-sims]

2. The Project

"Hey kid, what's up?"

Caroline shifts her gaze away from her laptop when she hears Victor's voice. He's hopping off the last step just as she turns to look, and once he realizes he's gotten her attention, he gives her an exaggerated wave. He can be such a goofball sometimes, and if he's this energetic at forty-seven, she can't help wondering what he must've been like at her age. She smiles. Nanna Grace must've had an interesting time of it while he was growing up. She probably had to figure out ways to keep him from literally bouncing off the walls.

Victor crosses the short distance from the foot of the stairs to where Caroline is sitting at the kitchen island and settles himself on the stool next to hers. Now that he's close enough, she notices how tousled he is. His silver hair is sticking out in every direction, and it's obvious he'd been sleeping in the rumpled t-shirt and sweatpants he's wearing.

Evidently, he just woke up and couldn't wait to greet her. She loves that about him. He's always happy to see her, even if they've only been apart for a handful of hours.

She has to confess she's happy to see him too. She loves both her parents, but Victor has always been her favourite. They bonded on the very first day they'd met, and Caroline can't imagine a life without him now.

"I'm making some notes," she tells him. "For my Media Studies project. How was work last night?"

"It was good. Surprisingly uneventful, but I'm definitely not complaining about a quiet night shift. How was school? And swim practice?"

"School was... school." She shrugs slightly. "Swim practice was awesome. Jack wants me to be on the relay team this season. He says I'm the fastest, so he wants me to be the last swimmer in the relay, but we still have to figure out the logistics 'cause I can't see when my teammate touches the wall."

"Maybe she can just yell 'go' or something as soon as she touches it," Victor suggests. "That's allowed, right?"

"I don't know," Caroline admits. "Jack and Matilda should know, though. I mean, knowing the rules is part of the coaches' job. I can ask tomorrow."

"Good idea. Did Grandpa Julian pick you up from practice?"

"Yup, and he told me to tell you that Nanna's still waiting for you to let her know when you can paint their kitchen."

"Oh crap!" Victor smacks his palm lightly against his forehead. "I was supposed to get back to her on that weeks ago. I was gonna see if I could recruit your uncle Leo to help me with it, but I totally forgot. I should've written it down."

Caroline laughs. "You know, you should probably write most things down."

"What can I say? Sometimes I'm easily distracted."

"Just sometimes?"

"Have I ever mentioned your sense of humour is just like Yuri's? Anyway, I remember the really important stuff without having to write it down. That should count for something, shouldn't it?"

"Do you remember it'll be Yuri's birthday in a couple weeks?"

It's Victor's turn to laugh. "I've been remembering Yuri's birthday since long before you came along. It's a super important day, and I'd be in big trouble if I forgot that."

"Isn't everybody's birthday a super important day?"

"Well, yeah," Victor agrees. "But when Yuri was born, the doctors all said he probably wouldn't live to see his first one, so it's not just a birthday to him. It's a celebration of being alive."

"Really?" Caroline is intrigued. She hadn't known that about Yuri. "Why would the doctors say that?"

"Because he came way too early and he was really sick. Babies who are born as early as he was don't always make it, even with the medical technology we have. Back then, their chances were even lower than they are these days."

"But he survived."

"He did, and that's absolutely worth celebrating," Victor says. "Incidentally, while we're on the subject of Yuri, have we heard from him since this morning?"

"Actually, he texted me just before you came downstairs. He's coming home early, and he wanted to know if we wanted him to pick up food on the way."

"And you said yes?"

"Yup. I said pizza. Is that okay?"

"Sounds great," Victor says. "Want to help me make a salad and some protein drinks to go with it? And while we're doing that, you can tell me all about your project. Didn't you mention something yesterday about a podcast?"

"Forest and Camellia are doing a podcast. I'm making a documentary."

"That sounds ambitious. What's your documentary going to be about?"

"About my life," she says. "I'm calling it Caroline and Company."

She slides off her stool at almost the same moment Victor gets down from his. While he goes to the fridge to take out some vegetables for their salad, she moves her laptop to the coffee table in the living room. It's not that there's any shortage of counter space, but she doesn't like leaving her computer unattended on something as tall as the kitchen island.

By the time she returns, Victor has lettuce, spinach, tomatoes, a yellow bell pepper, a cucumber and a red onion lined up on the counter. There's a small brick of cheese as well, and some eggs they'd boiled the day before. To Victor, salad isn't a sad bowl of lettuce; it's a culinary work of art, and she's certain he considers himself one of the masters of the fine art of the salad.

Caroline loves cooking with Victor, regardless of what they happen to be making. For as long as she can remember, he's encouraged her to help him in the kitchen. She recalls baking cake and cookies during her first Christmas with him and Yuri, when she had to stand on a step-stool to reach the counter and accidentally spilled milk everywhere. Victor hadn't scolded her for that. He hadn't even seemed particularly bothered. He'd just cleaned up the mess, and when their baking session was done, he'd hugged her tight and praised her for being "the best little baker ever."

Victor assigns her the tasks of shredding the lettuce and grating the cheese. He chops the other vegetables with a speed and precision that scares her a little. She considers herself to be fairly confident with knives, but she has to take her time and make sure she can see what she's cutting. If she did it the way Victor does, she thinks there's a real possibility she might lose the end of a finger.

While they work, she describes the details of her project to him, how she and her classmates have the whole school year to complete their big assignment, and how they're building a website to showcase their work.

"So, you're going to tell your life story in a series of videos," Victor says when she stops talking. "Here... pass me those eggs. Do you want to get started on the smoothies?"

"Sure." She slides the bowl of boiled eggs across the countertop toward him before wandering over to the fridge. "What kind of smoothies do we want? We've got bananas and peaches, and there are some strawberries left."

"You can pick," he says.

She chooses strawberries and a banana and takes them out of the fridge along with a container of yogurt. "It's going to be more than just me in the videos."

"Oh?"

"I want to interview Obā-chan in Kyoto and record our video chat," she elaborates. "I'd like to interview you and Yuri too, and maybe Jack and some of my friends. Also Laila and Dr. Reid-Mayfield, 'cause I feel like we wouldn't even be a family if it wasn't for them."

"I can't speak for anybody else, but you can definitely interview me," Victor says. "I'm sure Yuri will let you interview him too, and I'd be really surprised if Laila said no. Getting Dr. Reid-Mayfield into it might be a hard sell, but it never hurts to ask."

"Cool," Caroline says. "Another idea I had was to let people have the camera and make a video by themselves. You know, 'cause it might be too awkward for some people to talk about me right in front of me. Like, I don't think Forest would enjoy being interviewed on camera, but he might record something if he could just be alone in his room."

Victor pauses in the middle of peeling the shell off an egg and nods. "Yeah, it's definitely easier to get your thoughts out when you're in a room by yourself. I always found it better to make journal entries when there was nobody else around."

"Writing in a journal is different, though. You're not saying your thoughts aloud."

"I didn't say I was writing."

Caroline frowns, but quickly tries to smooth her expression when she remembers that it'll probably lead to her having a pronounced crease between her eyebrows some day, just like Obā-chan. Expression notwithstanding, she's still confused. She glances up from her half-peeled banana to meet her father's eyes. "But, you said you were journalling?"

"Yeah," Victor affirms. "We were. A long time ago, Yuri and I kept a video journal for over a year."

"Really? Did you do it for any special reason?"

"It was supposed to be a travel journal and it was only meant to be my journal originally," he says. "I had this wild plan to go on some big world adventure, and I wanted to capture all my experiences."

"But I guess you didn't actually have a world adventure?"

"I sort of had one. I was already living in Japan with Yuri, so there was that, and then I took a trip to Sulani on my own, but it didn't exactly turn out the way I expected."

"What happened?"

"Aside from nearly drowning during a thunderstorm, you mean?" He finishes shelling the third egg, and then deftly slices each one in half. "I found out how expensive recreational travel is. Plus, I missed Yuri so bad that I vowed I'd never go anywhere without him again. Oh, and while I was away, our landlord evicted us and we had less than a month to move."

"That's... a lot."

"It was overwhelming for both of us. Yuri started using my account around that time to record his own feelings about everything, and our journal kind of evolved from there."

"Do you still have it?" Caroline inquires. The fact that her parents kept a video journal once upon a time is a revelation to her. She never could've guessed they'd done that, and now she's beyond curious to know what they'd been through and how they'd felt and what they'd said.

Victor seems to think about it for a second, but finally says, "The account probably still exists, but even if it doesn't, I'm positive Yuri downloaded the whole thing onto a USB drive at some point."

"Could I... would it be okay if I watched it?"

This time, Victor's silence is longer before he responds. "Let me talk to Yuri about that, all right? You know we never hide anything from you, but that was a really dramatic year in our lives and we talked about some heavy stuff in those videos. I think you can handle it, but we're not going to show it to you unless we're both okay with the idea. Does that make sense?"

"Yeah, it does," she says. "I suppose it's kind of like asking somebody if you can read their diary."

"It's exactly like that," Victor says. "It's very personal. We recorded it like there was an audience, I guess because there was originally supposed to be one, but once we started posting about something deeper than mermaid lore and sailing lessons, we made it private. The only people who ever saw it after that were Yuri and me, and Yuri might not be comfortable with you seeing it now."

"I understand."

"I'll talk to him about it tonight, and I'll get back to you once we make a decision."

"Okay," Caroline agrees.

"There's something I want you to do in the meantime," he adds, and the tone of his voice has suddenly gone serious.

"What is it?"

"I need you to think carefully about whether you really, truly want to watch our video journal, if we do agree to let you."

"What do you mean?"

"It's like I said. I believe you're mature enough to grasp most of what happened, and I think you're responsible enough to come to us and talk about anything that upsets you or that you maybe don't quite get, but..." He lets the sentence fade, as if he's trying to work out how to say what he wants to say next. "If you watch it, you might learn some stuff about Yuri and me that you'll end up wishing you didn't know, or that you'll wish you'd waited longer to find out. It can be strange, discovering things about your parents. Confusing and unsettling and... weird."

She wants to ask him what she might find out that'd be so strange and upsetting, but she suddenly thinks better of it and closes her mouth around the barely-formed question. If she could learn it from the video journal and he was reluctant about giving her access to that, it's highly unlikely he's just going to tell her. And maybe he's right anyway, she thinks. Maybe she would be better off not knowing.

The older she gets, the more she accepts that her parents aren't superheroes. They're amazing, smart, strong and kind, and they're unquestionably her heroes, but they mess up sometimes and they're just as human as she is. As Grandpa Julian likes to say, 'they put their trousers on one leg at a time'.

But, even with that comprehension, she can't say she's one hundred percent ready to let her childhood perception of them go completely. Her curiosity is burning a hole through her willpower, but she knows she has to temper her curiosity and impulsiveness with reason. Victor taught her that, and his admonition to think before rushing into a situation has saved her from trouble loads of times. Advice that's always proved to be so good can't suddenly have gone bad.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I shouldn't have asked."

"Come here," Victor says. He moves toward her with his arms open, and she doesn't even hesitate for a heartbeat before stepping into his waiting embrace. She wraps her own arms around him and leans her head against his chest.

Inside Victor's hug is the safest place in the world, and it's consoling enough on its own, but that doesn't prevent him from offering her words of reassurance anyway. "It's all right, sweet Caroline. It's okay that you asked. I don't want you to feel bad for wanting to know. It's just... I also don't want you to jump into something you're not ready for."

"I know," she says. "I'll think about it, I promise."

"Good," he says. "You should give some thought to your school project too. I think it's awesome that you want to tell your story, but the process of learning about yourself isn't always easy either."

"Do you think I shouldn't do it? I could probably come up with a new project idea. Mr. Blanchet already has my proposal, but the real deadline isn't till this Friday. I could—"

"No," Victor stops her gently, mid-sentence. "I think you should. In fact, I'm super proud of you for tackling a project like this. It takes a lot of courage."

"But you said it wouldn't be easy."

"Yes, and that's why you're brave for wanting to," he says. "You already know, just because something isn't easy, that doesn't mean you shouldn't do it or that it won't be worth it. It just means you should be careful and you should be prepared."

"To... to find out stuff about myself that I might not like?" she asks cautiously

"Maybe."

"When you and Yuri were keeping your journal, did you learn things about yourself that you didn't like?"

He tightens his arms around her for a second or two, and she gets the sense that he's doing it involuntarily. "I did," he answers quietly, "And it was really hard. I was scared and angry and sad, sometimes all at once, and sometimes I felt like a total failure at... life, basically. It was a struggle to wrap my head around it and even more of a struggle to change, and I cried a lot."

"You still cry a lot, Victor."

Unexpectedly, he bursts out laughing, and this time when he squeezes her it's clearly deliberate. She feels the tension leave his body, and suddenly she relaxes too. She hadn't even been aware of how rigid she was.

Victor kisses the top of her head. "No such thing as a serious moment with you around, is there?"

"Sorry," she says, but she isn't. She hadn't intended to make him laugh, but the sound of his laughter is so much better than what she likes to call his 'grown-up voice', and she's relieved that he's not upset.

"Cheeky little mermaid," he says in fake exasperation, and she feels warm inside at hearing the childhood nickname her grandfather Kenji — her adorable old Ojī-chan — had given her. It's mostly only Yuri and Ojī-chan who call her that, so it somehow feels special when Victor uses it.

"I can be serious," she tells him. "And I really will consider everything you said."

"I know you will. You're smart and I trust you to make good choices," he says. "If you're ever unsure about anything, though, you can talk to me or Yuri about it."

"Thanks," she says.

After one more affectionate squeeze, he lowers his arms and steps back. They slip into a companionable silence after that, finishing up their dinner preparations before Yuri arrives home from his office.

Caroline has no clue what might be going on in Victor's mind, but hers is tangled with the threads of their conversation. Part of her is anxious over the possibility of uncovering some not-so-pleasant truth about herself, but another part is eager to reveal the pieces of her past that are still a mystery to her. It's exciting and terrifying at the same time, and she has the feeling that no matter what might happen. this project is going to mark a defining point in her life. Once she begins, she'll never be able to un-know all the things she'll discover, and she'll never be able to go back to being an innocent, ignorant child again.

But, it's okay, she tells herself. It's like Victor says; growing up is a journey. And if I don't step forward, how will I ever get there?

[real-fire-emblem-takes]

On the subject of trio units- what we REALLY need is one with Finn, Leif, and Nanna for the children’s day banner!! Please, I just want to see that poor man happy with his kids for once.

.

[thewertsearch]

Oh, fuck.

Jack, just - just wait there. Postpone your invasion of LOWAS for however many minutes are displayed on Jade's Cruxtruder. Please?

Jack has tracked down the one warrior who could challenge him. Does he have a new plan this time?

Huh. I didn't peg Jack as the 'honorable warrior' type - although, come to think of it, this isn't the first time he's shown respect to his enemies.

I guess he was prototyped with a sword. Maybe it symbolizes chivalry, or fair combat, compelling Jack to seek out a duel.

If there's one thing that this demonstrates, it's that Becquerel couldn't end up in the kernel by accident - his reactions are much too fast. If he gets prototyped, it's because he wants to be prototyped.

GG: hmmmm i wonder what the significance of that number is

It's 413 + 612. It probably represents the kids and trolls 'coming together', and working as a team.

EB: hey, what do you think we should prototype this fussy little orb with? [...] GG: there are so many possibilities [...] EB: it's almost like your grandpa put all this crap here knowing we'd have to make that decision. [...] GG: yes, it sure seems that way

It sure does.

I think the dolls, at least, are a red herring. We've done that twice before, and a Mummysprite just doesn't seem that interesting, especially compared to all the other options.

I think the realistic choices here are Grandpa, Bec, Dream Jade and Typheus. I'd give a slight edge to Grandpa, because he's in the room with the Cruxtruder - but a lot can happen in ten minutes.

EB: he seems like he was an awesome guy, i would have liked to have the chance to talk to him. [...] GG: maybe you will get that chance john [...] GG: yes, as a matter of fact i am sure we will both get that chance! GG: i once dreamt that we would [...] EB: wait, are you saying we will prototype him? EB: like i did with nanna, to bring her ghost back to life? [...] GG: sure, why not!

Hmm.

See, reading between the lines here, it doesn't sound like Jade ever saw a Grandpasprite in Prospit's clouds. She saw herself and John talking to Grandpa - but if she saw him as a green ghost, she'd be a lot more conclusive about that being the correct option.

Instead, she says why not. It sounds right to her, but she's not sure. I think the fact that they're planning to prototype Grandpa is intentionally misleading.

EB: we shouldn't put your grandpa in yet, unless we want lots of imps and ogres and stuff that look like your grandpa. GG: augh, nooooooooooooooo

They could just prototype nothing at all before entering. The game is already unwinnable, so they don't have anything to lose by cutting themselves off from 'ultimate success'. Plus, it'll stop Jack from getting any stronger.

EB: we could put in something really lame, to make all the monsters weaker!

Damn it, and John has a frog in his sylladex! That would have been a fantastic prototyping, if he could get it to her.

Does Jade have enough time to fetch a frog from the lilypad ruins? Probably not - I guess this will remain a missed opportunity. The kids would never think of it, either, because the comic has so far refused to elaborate on Frog Lore.

[elvesandlanterns]

Ghost Helpline part 3. Diana was shocked, hurt and elated all at once! “Your grandmother is Pandora?! I did not know that she even had a child! I am ecstatic to meet you Konstelacio. Oh my I call you cousin?” This was it! as far apart as the separation between Pandora and Themyscia may be Diana would take any family she could. The loneliness of childhood gnawed at her.

“Oh no! I’m not Pandoras Grandchild!” The girl crossed and uncrossed her arms into an X to show her dismissal, “She is a good mentor! And a wonderful family confidant! If anything she’s like my Nanny.”

Constantine began to sweat buckets.

Diana shouted, “Wait…is Pandora…” lips thinned.

“A ghost ? Yes”

- Tim stared at Konstelacio, she had begun to breathe deeply, averting her eyes from Wonder Woman, feet shuffling together. She was exhibiting shame. And Tim understood the feeling well, that you were too unworthy to even be held in comparison to someone else. Someone whose shoes you could never even dream of filling. “Do Demons have grandmas?” Uhhh speedsters.

“Yes”

“That’s so cool! Who’s yours?”

“I don’t know.”

Oh oh those golden eyes looked tired. As tired as Jason’s eyes had been after his first gala, Dick thought. They may have both been adopted but Jason was treated to so much contempt being from the streets, so much fake pity. /Oh poor kid doesn’t even know who his mom is./Dick knew Jason hated it all.

“I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay. It doesn’t matter.”

/It doesn’t matter Dick! Just drop it!/ the eldest robin frowned.

Damian tsked, “What about your parents? I would suppose even monsters need those? Also landing community service instead of some harsher punishment must mean you have some connection to authority in your ‘realm’ no?”

The little girl grinned, “Yes something like that.”

She has nearly everyone in the room duped, Constantine side eyed the Bats nearly. He knew that smile; a tad too wide eyes, a fraction to tight smile, the inexplicable about of understanding and kindness up until this point… this was the grin of a con artist.

- “I know quite a lot of important people! Why Pandora herself is my nanny! And my supervisor is my uncle.”

“Tsh- is that not a conflict of interest?”

“Doesn’t matter,” John wished he was allowed to smoke in space, “No more wasting time, now that we know you can help us what’s your price?”

“Hhhuuu what? Oh the price for the antidote will have to come later, after all you technically aren’t getting it from me. I’ll have to ask nanna and whoever else decides to help what the want. It’s only fair.”

“We see,” Batman’s low tone sounded. “And the dragon-“

Her hand stuck out shyly, “Tips are always welcomed tho…after all I am still providing a service.”

“We don’t …”

“It takes me a lot of energy and time to help you mortals so much. I’m so tired already.”

Batman’s mouth stilled, “We-“

A blur of red, “Oh are you hungry? Do you need anything? Let me get you a chair, snacks..”

“No no chair! Nothing is going threw that circle !” Constantine yelled, “Do you have any idea what could happen!”

“She’s a child!”

“She’s a demon!”

“Constantine is right.”

“Bats you can’t be serious, just look at her?”

“Flash we know your intentions are in the right place but we just can’t risk it! We also can’t risk not clearly defining what she considers a tip.” Zatanna signed how long have they been here, the girl looked harmless enough but something about her made her skin crawl.

“A favor would be nice! Especially from the red one!”

“See who knows what she could end up asking for.”

“Oh I see I’m sorry,” she looked down dejected, “ I do suppose no one carries favors for ladies around anymore hhhmmm and none of you have handkerchiefs? Awww”

“Why would you want something like that ?!?” Diana was horrified, her to be cousin was a child! No men, man, demon should be giving her favors to begin a courtship! “Flash!”

“Oh no no I wasn’t defending you to-“

“I know I know I just wanted one from you cuz you were nice to me.”

“That’s still doesn’t explain why you would ask for a favor as a tip?” Diana looked as the girl flushed in embarrassment. “I -I -I just want one to show my friends that’s all just to prove that I could get one that’s all! Uummmm cousin???” She hesitated regretful as soon as the word had come out.

“Oh I see are your friends giving you a hard time? Well I say the only one that would be appropriate to give you such a thing would be Robin… the youngest that is.”

The bats looked back at Damian oh dear lord sweat god don’t -

“Tch- here.”

Oh

Damian tossed a handkerchief towards the circle. “You just carry a handkerchief with you?” “Of course I do I’m not a heathen unlike you Drake.”

The toss was barely thrown in her direction when it disappeared entirely. “Where…”

“No worries I just put it in my inventory. Now then I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait!”

“Huh?” Big doe eyes blinked up at them all in confusion.

“The dragon! What about that thi- guy.” Hal scruffed out.

The girl brightened up, “Oh you don’t have to pay me anything for that! After all Aragon the one that broke his patrol. So I’m sure as soon as I send my report someone will come deal with it eventually.”

“Eventually?!” Hal’s hand hit the table, who was this kid?

“Well yes, tons of reports go in everyday! It is the INFINITE realms after all! Who knows when they’ll get to yours.” She shrugged as if it was all just a matter of convenience as if that very dragon haven’t terrorized and destroyed lives throwing its tantrum.

Superman chewed his lip, as this meeting contributed to drag on he had no doubt Aragon would continue to destroy everything in its path. “Wait what about your connection, surely you know someone that can help ? What about your supervisor uncle ?” Clark needed this to stop, he couldn’t even land a punch on this guy. Nothing worked and he was already weak to magic. This has to stop.

“Well I suppose I can but it’ll cost you.”

“Wait just a minute!”

“Do we even have anything you want?” Clark raked his mind over ideas in his head, for a tip all she had wanted was a handkerchief an old school way of showing off to her friends like any normal girl. “We don’t have much but I’m sure we could think of something???”

“It’s okay Mr. Superman.” Konstelacio lite up “I’ll just take something you mortals don’t really think about hhhmmm something small.”

Hal sighed as he leaned back, “You sure we can’t just give her a dog?”

“Ugh fuck this mate I need a light,” forget not being allowed to smoke up here all these idiot we’re getting on John’s last nerve, “Ugh drat! I could have sworn I had my lighter in my pocket.”

“Oh you mortals losing things in your own pocket. Oh that’s what I want in return!”

“A lighter? Smoking is -“

“I want your pockets.”

“What do you mean?”

The devil grinned, “Your pockets, empty them.”

#@starkcravingmad

[badlydrawn-brostrider]

So we heard about the Lalondes, plenty about the Striders, but what about the Egberts? What are young and old Johns up to, along with Jane, Jade, and Grandma Jane and Jade?

BRO: Don't know that crowd too well, 'sides Nanna, that is. The lil' ones mostly avoid me, rather spend time with Mini me 'n keep me away from Dave.

BRO: . . . They're good kids. Very protective of the lil' man. I'm glad he's got people he can rely on . .

BRO: As for the others it's similar to Rose the elder. Don't know 'em well and they have no interest in me, why would they? Fine by me honestly, not interested in 'em either.

BRO: And Nanna . . used to know her, way back when. Liked her, too. I'll admit, I'm a coward, haven't spoken to her since the whole revival affair.

BRO: I'm glad to know the old hag is alive and kickin', off somewhere bakin' and pulling pranks. Lil' Jane has stopped by once or twice for Mini, she doesn't say much just . . watches me? Think she wants me to grow a pair 'n finally face her and her counterpart.

BRO: Dunno if I ever will, honestly.

[foreverrandomwritings]

Hangman Dating Plus Sized S/O Part 3/14-Headcanon

Summary: This is a headcanon of Hangman dating a plus sized reader. Most of it is vague and can be read as not plus sized. I went so overboard with this it’s crazy. I just kept typing and it ended up being a lot longer than I expected. Once again thank you @wkndwlff I don’t think I would have the courage to post this without you. 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x afab/Reader

Warnings: Mentions of insecurity. 

Wordcount: 657

Masterlist  Series Masterlist

~You guys met at the grocery store in the produce section.

~He asked for your number and asked if he could take you on a date. 

~You thought he was joking but still exchanged numbers with him. 

~The day of the date you were at home when you got a call from him asking you where you were because he was at the restaurant and didn’t see you. 

~You said you were at home and sounded really confused.

~He asked in a disappointed tone if you weren’t interested in him any more. 

~You immediately denied that and told him you thought it was a joke because you’ve been set up like that before by guys that liked to mess with you for being plus sized. 

~You of course didn’t see it but his fist clenched and his jaw got tight and he swore then and there he would never let someone mess with you for your size ever again. 

~He assured you he wasn’t joking and that he was quite serious about taking you out. 

~So he asked you to get ready and he’d swing by and pick you up. 

~You ended up getting dressed up in your best outfit. Did a really quick hairstyle and a simple makeup look and threw on a few accessories. 

~You were ready by the time he pulled up for you. 

~When he did show up he came and knocked on the door and he had a bouquet of beautiful flowers in his hand. 

~The look on his face when he saw you had your full face redder than the flowers in his hand. (That’s when he knew he would do anything to see you blush like that everyday)

~He started that night by complimenting you consistently throughout the date. 

~He was dressed in a pair of nice black pants with a blue and white short sleeved top. (Inspiration pic at end found on google)

~When you complimented him he got all bashful and ran his hand through his hair and said thank you. 

~He made sure to grab all the doors for you because in his words someone as gorgeous as you should never have to open a door again.

~(He also mumbled something about his nanna having his head if he didn’t open the doors for a dame)

~Jake ended up taking you to a small little pizza shop he and Coyote would go to after a rough day at work. 

~You guys enjoyed a pizza and ice cream afterwards and took a walk down the beach together.

~At the end of the night he took you back home and walked you to your door and asked very politely if he could kiss you with a slight southern drawl. 

~You said yes and the rest is history. 

~That kiss made you feel like you were drowning in the best way possible. 

~All you heard was the relaxing noise of the waves from when you guys were walking on the beach together. 

~Your body suddenly felt like you were floating and your stomach was like a tsunami. 

~Before he left he made sure to tell you how he had an amazing time and that he was looking forward to taking you out again soon hopefully. 

~He looked so hopeful like a little kid asking his parents to stay up 10 more minutes. 

~You couldn’t deny him and told him in the sweetest little voice that you would love to go out with him again.

~His face almost split in half with the grin that came onto his face at that answer. 

~He gave you a kiss on the cheek and made sure you got inside before he walked back to his truck where he fist bumped the air.

~(Which you saw through your front window and definitely mentioned it on your second date) 

~He texted you as soon as he got home to set up that second date as well.

A/N: Part 4 will be gym specific and then part 5 will be NSFW/18+! Thank you all for reading this!  

[richardson65984]

Hi,

My names Skye, I’m Craig’s daughter in law and mum to his grandson Karter.

Im setting this go fund me up to support Craig, Rachel and the kids during his difficult time during his 2nd relapse of leukaemia.

Craig was first diagnosed with leukaemia back in 2020, with lots of rounds of chemotherapy, relapsing and being given the gift of a bone marrow transplant from his amazing brother that saved his life. The past 2 years Rachel and Craig started to rebuild their life following the amazing results from the transplant and financially started to rebuild on their finances with Craig being able to return to work with the focus on building more memories for the future. Craig has grown within himself as a man, made amazing memories with his wife Rachel, the kids and lots of family and friends and really made the most of his life as you can never take life for granted. Rachel and Craig then experienced a special gift of their 1st grandchild, and they really are most amazing grandad and nanna to Karter.

Unfortunately yesterday Craig got the news he has relapsed for a 2nd time, however this time the cancer is know as leukaemia sarcoma a very rare tumour in his head. Dr’s have informed us that it is a very aggressive large tumour that is rapidly spreading to his brain. We are all completely devastated with this news and know this will have a massive impact on finances for the 2nd time. Today Craig will start intensive chemotherapy and has got a long fight ahead of him.

Words from his wife Rachel:

Craig sheehan, Is one incredible man who fought this disease once before and beat it. Time to stand up and fight again it’s going to be a very difficult and uncomfortable battle but I know Craig will give it everything he’s got he’s a warrior.

Everyone who knows Rachel and Craig know how amazing they are, they would be the first to go out of there way to help other people. They now need our HELP and support during this difficult time. Rachel is doing an amazing job looking after Craig, the kids and holding the family together. Things financially are going to be very difficult for them especially with Christmas fast approaching. Please if you’re able to help in any way it would be really appreciated, no matter how small. Let’s get behind this amazing family and show them all how much we love and care for them.

Love to you all remember to enjoy the small stuff as you will know in time they are the most important!❤️

[anruraiocht]

birds in the same cage

A little girl looks at you with quivering lilac eyes, tears gathering at her lower lashes. Her dress is slightly shabby and the knees that peek out beneath her skirts are scraped. A maid's daughter, then? She doesn't look like any of the maids that had served your house, but that isn't surprising. The servants that had been executed for their loyalty to your father had been quietly replaced and those that hadn't never came over to your section of the castle.

"U-um...! I'm looking for Mother, but I..." she fidgets, tugging at her pigtails nervously. "I think... I might be lost."

"...Here." You extend your hand out to her with a sigh. "I'll walk you. I know my way around the castle."

It was supposed to be yours, after all.

The girl shyly takes your hand. After Prince Leif and Princess Nanna had left, there weren't really any other kids around. She must have become accustomed to only speaking to adults, just as you had, because no conversation flows between the two of you as she trails just slightly behind you. It hurts a little bit to keep your arm pulling behind you, but every time you try to urge her to just walk next to you, the other girl jolts and furiously shakes her head.

Her hand is cold and clammy. Or maybe it's your hand that's cold and clammy. It's been a long time since you've held hands with someone your age.

Your march down the hallways to the servants quarters is interrupted by a tall man dressed in all black. He looks surprised to see the two of you together, much less holding hands. He raises an eyebrow.

"Tine? You know you aren't supposed to be in this part of the castle."

"U-uncle?!"

The girl—Tine—trembles and dips her head low. Her tiny hands bunch up her skirts and tears threaten to spill over once more. If you were a nicer person, like your mother and father had been, you might have stood in front of her, tried to comfort her.

You aren't a nice person, though.

You drop her hand like a hot iron. You should have known as soon as you saw her hair color, that detestable hue of silver. She looks crestfallen, but the betrayal is too great for you to spare sympathy for a parasite. She is not the daughter of a maidservant as you had thought (as you had hoped), but a Friege.

She asked you to lead her to her mother, as if it hadn't been her family that had taken your mother away from you...!

"...Princess Miranda," Bloom greets you curtly. You don't greet him back. The cuckoo looks down at you with mild disinterest. "Were you taking care of my niece for me? I treasure her like I do my own daughter."

What are you, a hostage, doing with my niece?

He doesn't say it, but you already know your freedom is about to be restricted again.

Shifting his attention away from you, Bloom shouts, "Come, Tine! You're bothering the princess. I'll take you back to your mother myself. She's beside herself looking for you, you know."

Uncle and niece leave together. Tine turns around one last time to look at you standing alone in the hallway. You had thought that she looked small, but she probably thinks the same thing when she sees your childish figure framed against the sprawling hallways of Ulster Castle.

Tine returns to her mother and you return to an empty room.

You've met someone that you shouldn't have.

[marisoft-paint-adventures]

Pgs. 385 - 445

TG: skepticism is the crutch of cinematic troglodytes TG: like hey mom dad theres a dinosaur or a ghost or whatever in my room. "yeah right junior go back to bed" TG: fuck you mom and dad how many times are we going to watch this trope unfold it wasnt goddamn funny the first time i saw it TG: just once id like to see dad crap his pants when a kid says theres a vampire in his closet TG: "OH SHIT EVERYONE IN THE MINIVAN" TG: be fuckin dad of the year right there

so fucking true Dave, keep spitting.

EB: that's fine, you are entitled to your opinion, i am just saying that being a white guy who is a rapper with a ventriloquist doll is not cool by any stretch of the imagination or by any definition of word cool, ironic or otherwise. that's all i'm saying.

ULTIMATE WHITE BOY BRO STRIDER.

oh hey it’s the page I used to showcase Hussie’s affinity for slurs.

uh

still bad.

me when I fucking sTAB MY MOTHER.

I’m having rough flashbacks to HS^2 and I don’t like it.

also I just gotta say that Mom is the coolest looking person in this entire comic I mean just look at this fucking POSE.

it just screams “hello daughter you are going to get fuckin served.”

yes. the pony. beloved Maplehoof.

I’ve always seen this idea that the process of creating Earth, and by extension Universe B, involved taking the attributes and interests of the 12 trolls and morphing them into brand new instances and ideas, like how Gamzee’s Juggalo religion manifested as ICP on Earth.

I like to think that the entirety of the For Assholes book series exists through a recycling of Karkat’s personality.

also that fucking Asshole Note is comedy gold.

aw yeah time to fucking beat the shit out of an imp let’s

shit.

W magnet.

alright for real this time let’s kick the shit out of this imp.

goddammit.

also another White John can be found in this flash, collect all 7 to turn Super White.

also the Egbert Centipede I guess.

Tip: I am so fucking mad.

OK 1 MORE TIME.

he did it. he destroyed the fucker. John man.

YES.

DO THE THING.

YEEEAAAAAAH.

yeah.

fuck you cat I am about to revive.

IT’S HER, CLOWN GRANDMA.

HI NANNA.

TG: i mean dont get me wrong i think its cool and all TG: the semi-ironic puppet thing or whatever TG: or semi-semi ironic TG: man i dont even know TG: im just starting to think some of this shit is going a little far and its kind of fucked up TT: I've seen his websites. TT: I like them.

what did she mean by this.

what did she mean by this?

what did she mean by this?!

TG: oh man i wish lil cal wouldnt look at me like that TG: with those dead eyes jesus TG: sometimes i dream that hes real and hes talking to me and i wake up in a cold sweat and basically flip the fuck out

not saying it.

Page 422, titled “[S] GO ON. ==>” completely underrated flash, just listen to this fuckin song.

it captures the feeling of a big expository RPG cutscene so damn well I love it, it’s like I’m a kid again.

this is also just one of my favorite Sburb mechanics, I love the concept of basically deciding the abilities and aesthetics of the NPCs via prototyping, it’s such a cool little thing and opens up a lot of possibility for any fan-sessions.

JOHN: ok, i think i get it now! JOHN: so i guess the battle against good and evil is sort of irrelevant? well, i don't know, that all sounds kind of weird, but in any case, we build the house to get to these gates, and then i can save my dad! NANNASPRITE: Yes, John! JOHN: and then after that, we solve this ultimate riddle thing and save earth from destruction!!! NANNASPRITE: Oh no, I'm afraid not!

NANNASPRITE: Your planet is done for, dear! There is nothing you can do about that! JOHN: oh...

I fucking love this sequence because John activates the Cheery Protagonist Mode ready to assemble a team of teens with attitude in order to save the world from Dark Chess and whatever only to hear that the entire world will end and his response is just “aw..... :(”

I went on this entire shpeel about the potential of writing an isolationist John based off of willy nilly prose narration at the beginning but MAN do the early versions of the kids not give a SHIT about what’s going on.

“John Egbert, the Earth is doomed, it is going to explode, all life will die, you and your friends will be the last living things remaining.”

“:(”

AND THEN HE JUST MOVES ON.

this is a very weird moment that sticks out when looking at the comic as a whole because the weight of literally all life dying at once is nonexistent, but at the same time, this is fucking hilarious.

it makes think about a lot of rewrites I’ve seen where they try, emphasis on try, to give the fact that world ends more emotional relevance, and they basically kinda force this by introducing random background characters who are obviously going to die immediately.

like “oh hi my name is Huma Nfriend I’ve been besties with John Egbert since childhood we’re very close and cool and we’re gonna play a game called Sburb!!!” and then they just

I understand y’all want to make the characters actually feel something in regards to the entire home blowing the fuck up but there’s gotta be better ways than inventing some characters just to fridge.

also John does this.

uh, yeah. I don’t know.

he’s having a moment.

just give him some space.

ok now that’s just rude.

god Rose’s house during the winter is so pretty.

holy shit a Jade and Rose conversation, I hope we get plenty of these! (we do not.)

Jade knows about Sburb??? and it could bring Jaspers back to life???? what could it me- ok this joke already fucking sucks.

ah yeah it’s time to beat the shit out of the local whiteboy.

this shit is so fucking cool oh my god.

also there are literally meteors falling as Dave looks out and I guess he does give a shit.

[swiftscion]

“Larcei, how are you?” She traces the railing, before resting a hand by the side of Larcei’s arm. “You and I are in for a long journey back home, aren’t we?”

“…If you ever need me, for any reason, please do call. I’ll watch for you.” She always did. Having been tasked to watch for as long as she could remember, she knew Larcei would meld with her sword art. Drinking in the stars that coursed through her blood. They were comrades that could match toe-to-toe on the ballroom, and back-to-back on the battlefield. “…” She means to degrade herself next. Saying she’ll try to keep up. Instead, a reassured exhale huffs from her nose.

“…I’ll keep up.” A smile bloomed. “Let’s protect them together."

Nanna's initial question rarely has a straightforward answer. Larcei's instinct is to let cowardice take root. The enemy she faces has beaten her once before. She feels like the same helpless girl she was all those years ago, plunging headfirst into an unknown destiny. A comet crashing against the tides, barreling after something none have confirmed with their own two eyes, looks back to examine its own trail. Is it straying its course? Are its directives perhaps folly, being led into some trap or another?

And there is also the issue of the war Larcei must wage. Not the battle--those she fights fine--but ruthless, bloody war. Supplies will be a concern, as will time and travel, and the support of the citizenry and weather--all manner of variables are involved. Normally she wouldn't be the type to consider them, having something of a one-track mind designed for combat, but since Nanna has asked, Larcei entertains the thought.

She grows silent, slouching against the rail the other clings to. Things would stay that way, too, were it not for Nanna's optimism. 'I'll keep up' is reassuring. 'I'll keep up' saves Larcei the trouble of having to tell her to herself, and for that she begins to smirk. She knows Nanna will; she's seen it happen before.

"I wasn't sure, before you came here..." she answers, rather honestly, "There's a lot to think about when you really break it down. Not just for us, but the people too. Those kids..."

Her eyes briefly shut. When they pry back open again, there is fire behind the smoke. There is determination where trepidation once grew.

"Together." The echo falls from her mouth freely, as though the word had been stolen from her by the blonde. Larcei takes the hand Nanna had left for her on the railing and holds it with both of hers, fiercely nodding in show of the vow she swears: "When we hit land, we won't let a single one of 'em come to harm. Me 'n you, Nanna... We'll keep everyone safe!"

[louvay]

You have the power of the gods (and anime) by your side, so:

Fix one thing of Agustria, and destroy another thing

Inflict one (1) calamity over Grannvale

Enthrone who in the Thracian peninsula and/or Manster District, and dethrone who

Kill a primogeniture crusader, in exchange of a very busted holy weapon (which?)

Bestow major crusader blood to a Gen-II kid, but take away a major blood out of another (eg. make Nanna a Hezul major, but Faval loses Jungby major)

Give a whole wardrobe and haircut makeover to which knight, in exchange of another knight losing their wardrobe and going bald

Breakup one relationship to establish another (eg. breakup Quan and Ethlyn's marriage, and marry Ethlyn off to Travant)

Have fun, dear Seal >;)

Fix Agustria by making the major blooded heirs the royalty and then break it by offing Macbeth 😔

Inflict the calamity of a swarm of frogs upon them. May their culture forever be tainted by those amphibious menaces.

Enthrone Fergus as the king of Thracia (he has the holy blood to prove it) and dethrone Quan.

Kill Ced to not only gain Forseti but also to end the debates once and for all.

Give Patty major Od blood but have Febail lose his Major Yngvi.

Give new drip to Oifey while removing Alec’s head wrap and hair

Break up Julius and Ishtar to make Julius x Brian a thing. House Dozel will finally be plot relevant again.

[waitingonthewind]

sometimes i think about the fact that there were genuinely careers i wanted as a kid - writer, teacher, artist, all things where i wanted to contribute a positive addition to the world, that i then got completely shunned from by older relatives (specifically my nanna and my dad) bc there "isn't enough money in it" and bc i was "too smart to waste my abilities" in those careers. i should be a doctor so i can look after them when they get old, nevermind how squeamish i get, or a lawyer just like my grandfather and uncle. lot of money to be made as a doctor or lawyer

my mother on the other hand was wholly supportive of my creative interests (just so long as its not drama!!!! no viable careers there!!!) and still encourages me to try to turn all of my art into monetary gain, and also spent the entirety of my primary school years complaining about how the creative pursuits she once loved had become a slog for her and she no longer enjoyed them to any extent, just for working in a tangentially related field.

and sometimes i think about how when i was in high school i was in a perpetual state of anxiety about what to do with my life and what i'd do when i graduated because i couldnt think of anything i wanted to do or anything that could be considered a viable career path, and the impacts that it had on my study and grades. i barely graduated high school because i couldnt bring myself to write any of my assignments because what if its not perfect and i cant get into university to study [modem dial up noises] and wont be able to start a lucrative career in [faint buzzing gets louder and louder]

sometimes i wonder where i would be at if i had received the encouragement to pursue being a teacher, where i could support other young lil weird neurodivergent kids who want to impress people and don't understand why they can't get anything done

or what i would be doing had i not been exposed to the exploitation my mother faced at the hands of a capitalistic enterprise, taking away the ownership and joy she felt for her crafts

im quite content just working a job i have no interest in, and keeping my hobbies separate, but sometimes i wonder what life would be like if we lived in a world where we were allowed to work for the sake of feeling productive and making a positive impact on the world, and not for the sake of feeding money into corporate greed

[luminousrider]

Doc McStuffins

"Quick, come in." Altena grabs Nanna by the wrist and pulls her into her dorm room, shutting the door quickly behind her and locking it. "I really appreciate you agreeing to help me. I've been worried all day and I really need your help. But Nanna," their eyes meet and Altena's gaze is deadly serious. This is a matter of life and death. She can't imagine what she would do if Nanna couldn't help her. "You cannot tell anyone, okay? Not even my brother. I…trust you." It's weird to say but, after everything they've been through together, she's been realizing it's true. Nanna is someone who is trustworthy.

Satisfied that her deep, dark secret will remain safe with her sister in law, she takes a deep breath and produces the cause of this dire emergency from behind her pillow. It's a stuffed wyvern. Once, it had been green and fluffy and soft but years and years of love have matted its fur, defluffed its stuffing, and dulled its color.

Holding it with the utmost care, Altena presents the toy to Nanna. One of its wings has fallen off and, what little bit of stuffing remains, threatens to spill out of the resulting hole.

"I could probably put it back on myself but you're so much better at this kind of thing than I am. Look, his leg fell off when I was a kid and father sewed it back on all wonky. I don't want him to have a wonky wing too! How will he fly? I mean…" Altena's face burns red. Not only is it bad enough that she's admitting she has a stuffie she cares deeply about but now she's talking about it like it's real. What will Nanna think!? "I just want it to look nice, okay!"

@hosannan