#final nights puppetmaster

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Twenty-Three

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty, Part Twenty-One, Part Twenty-Two,

A/N: Alright so this chapter covers three episodes. The FireLord and the Avatar, the Runaway and the Puppetmaster!

The gentle knock on his door alerted Iroh. He sat up from where he had been laying on the floor trying to sleep. The heavy metal door opened to reveal a Fire Nation soldier who quickly approached him.

"Ah Ming! I was getting worried." Iroh stated with a pleasant smile, as if he were greeting her for tea, and not from behind bars. The young woman, gave him a brief smile before her expression turned serious.

"The rounds have just changed, so we don't have much time." Ming whispered, glancing over her shoulder at the closed door, as she quickly pulled out a scroll, a bottle of ink and a writing brush. She held them out towards Iroh through the bars, who took them quickly and once she had produced a small flame to provide some light, he wrote down his message.

Once done, he blew on it so that the ink would dry quickly. "I thank you for your help, my dear. It is nice to see our children carry out our mission." Iroh said, smiling at the young guard who returned the gesture with a respectful bow of her head. "My father and I are honored to be of service to such a high ranking official of the Order of the White Lotus."

The ink dried, and once he had added in the secret message that could only be revealed by flame, he rolled it up and held it out for Ming to take. "Will you be able to deliver it to my nephew?" He asked, worry gnawing at his heart as he thought of the lost young boy. Ming nodded confidentially. "My brother will be on rounds near the Prince's rooms tomorrow night. He knows of our secret work and shall ensure this reaches him."

Relief passed through him as he nodded. With a final respectful bow, the young soldier was gone, leaving Iroh to mull over what he had done.

This was his final attempt to try and help his nephew. Perhaps, he should have taken this route long ago, but he had not want to burden Zuko.

But it did not matter now. If a heavy burden meant Zuko would choose the right path, then he would have to learn to carry it.

Iroh just hoped Orora would be there to help him shoulder that burden when the time came.

                                          ————————–

Orora glanced over where Aang was mumbling in his sleep. She smiled as he rolled over before settling once more.

Where once the nights she'd stare into the fire would be a rather depressing past time, now it brought her a sense of calm. Especially since she spent the entire day trying to make sure no one tried to do seriously hurt or maim anyone.

It was a mystery how Toph hadn't crushed anyone under a rock, or Aang hadn't blasted anyone into the sky, or Katara hadn't frozen anyone, or Sokka hadn't hit anyone over the head with his boomerang with how much they all bickered. Granted it wasn't anything malicious, but when tempers were high, especially with teenagers, anything could happen.

She was the designated peacemaker within the group, a title she shared with Aang. Though while Aang used words of wisdom to calm the situation, which weren't exactly received well by the audience most of the time, Orora preferred to have them speak their mind, and try to come up with a solution that would benefit both parties.

A tantrum didn't last more then a few hours. If it was really bad, it would last a day or so, but that was the extent of it.

Still, she smiled to herself as she looked around at the sleeping figures, it was nice to have a role in the little group. It was kind of the same role she had played while traveling with Zuko and Iroh, though back then it had been exclusively for Zuko and whatever inner turmoil he faced.

Did he face any of that inner turmoil now? She mused to herself as she stared into the fire, taking comfort in the gentle warmth of it. Probably not, since he had the life he'd always wanted. Did he ever think about her? Did he ever think what had happened to her after his betrayal?

She highly doubted it, she sighed, rising to her feet and walking to where her bed roll was. Burying herself under the covers, her mind still swimming with thoughts of her Soulmate, missing the way her string briefly shone red.

Her eyes slowly slid closed.

                                          ————————–

His eyes snapped open.

Zuko's ears perked at the sound of footsteps just outside his door. Throwing off his blanket he rushed to the hall to investigate. He opened the door, only to be greeted by the sight of a cloaked figure disappearing around the corner. Zuko made to follow, only to stop when he caught sight of a scroll on the floor.

The curtains all along the hall blew gently in the breeze coming from the open windows as he held the scroll.

A hand closed over the fingers that held the scroll, prompting him to look up. Orora gave him a smile from where she stood across from him.

He blinked and she was gone, but her nod of encouragement was all he needed to break the seal and open the scroll to read his Uncle's message within.

                                          ————————–

Katara and Sokka were a little occupied in a squabble, which meant that Toph and Orora had to make themselves scarce so as not to be dragged into their sibling disagreement.

"The only downside of being on an island, is that you would never be able to really get away from people." Orora stated before she jumped from one hardened lava stream to another. Toph chuckled as she followed. "Yeah! I wander how did the couples who lived here take a break from one another?" She jested to which Orora grinned.

"Maybe the wife threw the husband in the volcano?" She suggested to which Toph grinned widely. "I love how your dark your mind can get. Its really refreshing." She stated in a joyful tone, to which Orora laughed. "Oh yeah? None of the others share their dark thoughts with you?" She asked, to which Toph shook her head.

"Nope! Katara and Aang are too nice to think dark thoughts." The earthbender stated, as she created a small bridge where the distance between the frozen lava rivers was a bit too big. "And Sokka is well, Sokka."

The older girl let out a bark of laughter. "No arguments there. But I guess when you've lived in isolation like the two of us have nearly our whole lives." She nudged Toph playfully. "Thinking dark thoughts tends to be a good past time."

It was strange how much she had in common with a thirteen year old. While Orora had lived a life where she was forced to live in submission of her father and brothers, Toph had lived a life where she was coddled and treated as an invalid, just because she was blind.

The context did not matter.

What mattered was that they had each led lives where they felt like they were alone in the world.

"Whats the darkest thought you have ever had?" Orora asked Toph, to which the girl shrugged. "What my life would've been like if I didn't have my bending." The girl revealed to which Orora came to a sudden halt. "My life would be even darker then it already is." Toph continued as she kicked her foot out, loose ash forming a small cloud around her as she did.

Reaching out, Orora took her head and smiled down at her, even if she couldn't see it. "Well, the Spirits blessed you with earthbending, so lets leave it at that."

Toph smiled back, the cloud that had suddenly loomed over her dissipating, as she squeezed Orora's hand. "What about you? Whats your darkest thought?"

The older girl pursed her lips, her gaze trained towards the wide open ocean as it stretched out in front of them. "That I will die alone."

Silence followed her confession, one that was finally broken by Toph. "Woah, that's even darker then mine." She said in a tone that was half-joking and yet somehow serious and worried as well. "Why do you think that?" She asked, curious to know what went on in the older girl's mind.

Orora sighed, running a hand down her face. "I don't know. I guess because now that Zuko has betrayed me, I know there is no chance of my being with him." It still hurt saying it, but she continued. "And yeah, I could find someone else, but would I be able to have what I did with Zuko?"

So saying she slumped to sit down on the ash covered ground. Toph stayed where she was, her forehead creased in a frown as she thought over what Orora had just revealed.

"I don't know Zuko as well as you or the other three do." She finally spoke, to which Orora hummed in agreement. She felt Toph shift where she stood, taking a few steps forward to stand next to her.

"But I've heard how powerful a bond can be between two Soulmates. I mean it was so powerful between Oma and Shu that they were able to learn earthbending, just so they could be together." Orora turned her head so she could look at Toph. "I mean sure, he died, but when they were alive, they always found their way back to each other, no matter how much the war forced them to stay apart."

The waterbender frowned. "What're you getting at Toph?" She asked, her curiosity peaking as Toph smiled in her direction. "I'm saying, what if Zuko finds his way back to you, just like Oma and Shu did?"

Stunned silence followed her words. Orora couldn't help but blink at Toph in surprise who was looking at her in a strangely hopeful manner. A flicker of.....something sparked in her heart, but she pushed it aside.

"I don't know Toph." She finally said with a shrug. "I doubt fate will be that kind to us." A sudden punch to her shoulder had the older girl frowning and rubbing the sore spot. Toph, who still held up her clenched fist, glared at her. "If a blind girl can find her soulmate during an all out war, then a girl who's soulmate left her once, can come back to her again."

Orora stood. "How can you be so sure?" She snapped, not wanting to get angry, but frustration did simmer just under her skin at the moment. The younger girl suddenly sobered and dropped her hand. "You've said so yourself that no matter what he did, his heart was always in the right place right?" She asked, to which Orora gave a small shrug. "I suppose so." She muttered.

Reaching out, Toph laid a hand on Orora's chest, right where her heart was. "So if his heart is with you, and you're in the right place, he'll come back to you. Its as simple as that."

Orora stared at Toph, her mouth open in shock and her ice blue eyes wide. The shorter girl shook her head. "Honestly, its amazing how people who have eyes can't even see whats so obvious. I guess its a good thing I'm blind."

So saying, the girl walked off, leaving behind a still stunned Orora who was decidedly ignoring the way her string was flickering red.

                                          ————————–

Zuko's mind was racing.

He knew his Uncle was the one to send him the scroll. But why? He hadn't gained any new information from what he had read. Other then the fact that his great-grandfather had been friends with Aang's predecessor. It was strange how two people who had been the best of friends, could turn against one another.

Or rather, Sozin had turned his back on Roku.

That part was what haunted him the most?.

Was it something that ran in the family? Betraying the people you called friends. He had done the same to Orora what Sozin had done to Roku.

Was that the point his Uncle had been trying to make?

No! He had said he needed to know about the death of his great-grandfather, yet Sozin had been alive in the end. His death had revealed nothing.

Frustration clawed at him from the inside as he marched into the prison tower and towards his Uncle's cell.

He just hoped the man would speak to him.

Slamming the door behind him as he entered, he held out the scroll that had the message on it. "You sent this, didn't you? I found the secret history, which by the way should be renamed history most people already know!" He yelled, allowing his frustration to seep into his words. "The note said that I needed to know about my great-grandfather's death, but he was still alive in the end."

Iroh looked up at Zuko, and for a moment he thought he wouldn't speak.

"No. He wasn't." Though the relief at hearing his Uncle finally speak to him warmed his heart, he pushed it aside in favor of the confusion that clouded his mind.

"What are you talking about?" He asked, as Iroh finally met his eye, and for once Zuko didn't feel the shame and guilt that burdened him since Ba Sing Se.

"You have more than one great-grandfather, Prince Zuko." Iroh revealed. "Sozin was your father's grandfather." He paused, preparing Zuko before he revealed the truth and reason behind all the conflict he felt all the time.

And really the next few words changed Zuko's outlook on life forever.

"Your mother's grandfather was Avatar Roku."

Shock raced through his veins, prompting him to drop the scroll he had been holding. His eyes widened, and his heart beat wildly against his chest. His knees felt weak, and yet it was a testament that he did not immediately drop down to the floor.

"Why are you telling me this?" He whispered hoarsely, his mind exploding with questions, each one burning at the tip of his tongue and yet he could voice none of them.

"Because understanding the struggle between your two great-grandfathers can help you better understand the battle within yourself." Finally, his legs gave way. Zuko dropped to the floor, his head hanging as every moment of confusion and conflict he had ever experienced his entire life rose to the forefront of his mind.

Everything.

Everything he had done, every decision he had ever made and everything that happened to him. It all came back to his family.

His father had banished him after burning him, making him the bitter person he had been for nearly three years.

His mother had left him, influencing him into accepting that he could never trust anyone with his heart.

His sister always lied, pushing him into believing that no one would help him and that he had to help himself.

And now, his great-grandfathers.

Sozin's ideas about sharing the wealth and prosperity of the Fire Nation with the rest of the world had blinded him to all the horrible atrocities the Fire Nation had committed over the past Hundred Years.

Roku's hesitancy on taking out his former best friend was what had led to the war in the first place. If he had thought of the world, rather then the relationship he had had with Sozin, maybe the war would never have started in the first place.

"Evil and good are always at war inside you, Zuko." His Uncle continued to speak, his words echoing against the cold stone walls of the prison. "It is your nature, your legacy."

Was this it?

Was he meant to feel utter anguish and turmoil for the rest of his life? Was he to know the difference between right and wrong but never be able to act upon it?

He had acted upon it once before, and had suffered the consequences.

Not because he was the Prince of the Fire Nation.

But because he was the son of Ozai.

"But, there is a bright side." His Uncle's voice prompted him to look back up, scarcely allowing an ember of hope to burn in his chest.

"What happened generations ago can be resolved now, by you." Iroh stated, his voice firm and stern. The time for gentleness was long past. It was time to show his nephew the utter reality and truth of the situation if he were to do something good for the world and save himself.

"Because of your legacy, you alone can cleanse the sins of our family and the Fire Nation. Born in you, along with all the strife, is the power to restore balance to the world." Iroh was aware how Avatar Aang was meant to do just that, but he had known, long ago, that the young airbender would not be able to do all of that alone. He had to see to the entire world, not just one Nation.

Restoring the honor of the Fire Nation would be up to Zuko and no one else.

He stood, moving to the wall at his side. Iroh pulled out a loose brick and reached for the object within that was wrapped in a frayed, dirty cloth. He removed it to reveal a headdress as he walked towards Zuko and held it out for him.

"This is a royal artifact. It is supposed to be worn by the Crown Prince." Zuko stood in awe of the artifact thought to be lost long ago. The headdress gleamed in the moonlight. "Sozin gave it to Roku as a token of their friendship long ago, but it became tainted, when Sozin betrayed Roku."

Zuko blinked, before closing his eyes and reaching into the pocket of his shirt and pulling out the comb he always carried with him these days to feel her close. Iroh's eyes widened at the sight of the familiar comb.

"I suppose these two share a history of betrayal don't they?" His nephew said, his voice hoarse and heavy with emotion as the two hairpieces were held aloft side by side.

Iroh's heart softened, and he knew Zuko regretted the decision he had made in Ba Sing Se. Perhaps, because of the bond he shared with Orora, it would push him to make the right decision. Placing the crown atop the comb, and closing Zuko's fingers around it, Iroh gave him a look of understanding.

"Then, it is up to you to make it right."

The small room glowed with a sudden blue hue that had been dim for most of the time. However, in that moment it glowed so brightly that if anyone else other then Zuko saw, they would believe the Moon Spirit herself had descended upon them.

However, it was only the string that connected him with his soulmate.

Glowing bright and blue as he finally, finally, realized the true extent of his feelings for Orora.

                                          ————————–

"You mean, after all Roku and Sozin went through together, even after Roku showed him mercy, Sozin betrayed him like that‌?" Katara's astonished voice cut the tense atmosphere once Aang had revealed what Roku had shown him.

Orora stood to the side, frowning. "All those years of friendship." She said in a low voice. "He just threw it away because he wanted to realize his own ambitions." Why did that sound so familiar? And yet, this was not the time to think about him, the young waterbender scolded herself, focusing instead on what Toph was saying.

"It's like some people are born bad." She said, sounding confused and sad at the same time. Aang stepped up, shaking his head as he did. "No, that's wrong." He insisted, walking so he could stand with his back to them to look out at the ocean. "I don't think that was the point of what Roku showed me at all." His voice sounded so hopeful and optimistic.

Sokka shrugged, ever the pessimist of the group cut in. "Then what was the point?" He asked, to which Aang turned back to look at them. He smiled at each one of them in turn before speaking.

"Roku was just as much Fire Nation as Sozin was, right? If anything, their story proves anyone's capable of great good and great evil." His grey eyes landed on Orora at that part, and she felt herself stand up straight, knowing he was thinking of Zuko the same way she was. She chewed on her lower lip, slowly looking away from Aang, who continued with a small smile of understanding.

"Everyone, even the Fire Lord and the Fire Nation have to be treated like they're worth giving a chance." Aang concluded with that ever-present hopeful note in his voice.

"And I also think it was about friendships." He added with a grin. That last part did warm Orora's heart a little bit, prompting her to smile at Katara when the other girl looked at her.

"Do you really think," Toph began, sounding unsure and hesitant as she did. "Friendships can last more than one lifetime?" She asked, and Orora had to stop herself from reaching out and hugging the younger girl.

Aang reached out to take Toph's hand. "I don't see why not." He said as Katara took Toph's other hand as well. Reaching out, Orora placed a gentle hand on Toph's shoulder. "Friends are the family we choose for ourselves Toph." She said before she moved to take Aang's free hand as he held it out for her with a smile. "And I don't know about you, but I don't plan on letting go of any of you in this life or any other."

Aang, Katara and Toph both smiled at her. Sokka, however, had something else to add.

"Well, scientifically speaking, there's no way to prove that-" He began, only to have his sister shoot him an annoyed look. "Oh, Sokka, just hold hands." She said, holding her hand out towards him. Without missing a beat, his hand grasped hers.

Orora gave a soft laugh as Aang turned towards her to wink playfully. And as they stood there, greeting the new day with a more hopeful outlook on everything, Orora closed her eyes and inhaled.

Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought she could feel someone taking her other hand.

One that she was all too familiar with.

Considering she had held that hand many many times during her time with him.

For a moment her string glowed a warm red hue.

                                          ————————–

"People are starting to talk."

Zuko looked up from where he had been going over some new firebending forms he was mastering. Mai stood leaning against the doorway, a half smile playing about her lips.

"About what?" He asked, as she walked into the room, coming to sit opposite him. "That we're dating. Something about going out and walking into the same flower shop twice."

Zuko rolled his eyes. "Its just people gossiping nothing more. And its keeping Azula off both our backs, so I welcome it." He added, recalling how delighted his sister had seemed to be when she had spoken to him about it earlier that day. Mai hummed in agreement.

"True, my parents have also backed off." She pulled out a small knife from her sleeve, flicking it in the air and expertly catching it by the handle. "They were starting to look for marriage proposals for me, so dating you seems to be benefiting me as well."

Zuko followed her movement, his mind conjuring a sharp icicle rather then a knife as it twirled in the air. He had seen Orora do that very same move multiple times. Sometimes to practice, but most times out of sheer boredom.

"Have you been meeting with Kei Lo?" He asked, not wanting his thoughts to wander to Orora. Mostly because even the mere thought of her had his string glowing.

Zuko had met Mai's soulmate the first time he had gone to the flower shop. She had introduced him and Zuko had to admit, the boy seemed perfect for Mai. She needed someone to bring out the more softer and fun side of her, and Kei Lo was the right person to do it. Even the mere mention of him had a smile playing across Mai's lips as she nodded. "Yes, I met him just yesterday. My mother is starting to think I have taken an interest in flower arrangements, and my aunt is happy to keep my secret." She admitted.

Zuko smiled back, reaching out to gently pat her hand. "I'm glad you found him Mai." He said, his voice genuine. The girl nodded.

"What about you? Are you still seeing Orora?" The moment she spoke her name, his string began to glow blue. He ignored it in favor of responding to her question.

"Yeah, sometimes, every now and then." He admitted. Her appearances, where they had been quite frequent before, were now sporadic, not to mention she barely spoke in any of them.

He would never admit it out loud, but it was starting to scare him a little, how she was barely there whenever he would think of her.

As if he were forgetting what she looked like.

"Maybe you should go and find her?" Her suggestion had him staring at her wide eyed and dumbfounded. Mai only lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "Obviously you miss her, so what harm could there be in going to look for her?" She made the suggestion so carelessly, as if she were commenting on the weather or something.

Zuko frowned. "I can't exactly go out and find her. For one I would need a legitimate reason to leave the Palace." He stood up, walking towards the window and looking out towards the setting sun. "Besides, I doubt she would want to see me after what I did to her." Behind him, Mai pursed her lips, nodding in agreement.

"True, but have you thought that maybe she misses you just as much as you miss her?" She stood, slowly coming to stand behind him, settling a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Trust me Zuko, it's never the right thing to run away or stay purposely away from your soulmate. It doesn't really work."

With that, she turned around and left Zuko to his thoughts.

It was strange. He had been so focused on how his betrayal had effected her, that it had never occurred to him that she would be missing him, just as much as he missed her.

Or perhaps more, he thought to himself, as his string glowed blue.

                                          ————————–

When she had left home, Orora had known she would have to leave several luxuries behind. One of them being shopping.

If there was one thing Orora loved more then anything it was shopping. In Ba Sing Se, she had always been the one to go out and buy whatever they needed. Iroh had been a little surprised at her enthusiasm, but he had not commented on it.

Traveling across the Fire Nation with Aang, Katara, Sokka and Toph meant that they rarely went shopping, if ever. What money they had, they needed for supplies, and many a time Orora had to walk away from a shiny trinket that would catch her eye. All because she didn't have money.

But now?

They had sacks of it.

Her, Sokka, Toph and Aang all but cackled as they exited the town, their arms laden with several purchases, as well as sacks of silver and gold. "Spirits! Why didn't we think of doing this earlier?" The older girl said, smiling from ear to ear as she eyed the meat they had been able to buy. They would be eating really good that night.

"Don't think of the Why Orora." Sokka said, happily carrying his share of shopping. "Think of the What," He trailed off as the other three looked at him, prompting him to continue. "As in, What are we going to spend all this money on?"

Another round of laughter followed his words as they finally reached their little camp, where they dumped their purchases in front of Katara who was cooking.

"Where did you guys get the money to buy all this stuff?" She asked, looking curiously into the baskets. Aang, grabbing an apple from one of the baskets, took a bit out of it and sat down. "Toph got us money." He said as a way of explanation. "She scammed one of those guys in town who moves the shells around all sneaky-like."

Orora grabbed an apple herself. "You should've seen the looks on their faces Katara. Hilarious." She praised as she passed by Sokka and gave him a high-five, before throwing the apple at Appa who caught it in his mouth with a happy groan.

Sokka nodded as he sat down. "She used earthbending to win the game! Classic!" He shot the bling girl a thumbs up, even as his sister adopted a disapproving look. "Ah, so she cheated."

Toph, who had been about to bite into her own apple, stopped. "Hey! I only cheated because he was cheating!" She grinned. "I cheated a cheater. What's wrong with that?"

Katara shook her head. "I'm just saying this isn't something we should make a habit of doing." She reprimanded as Orora dug into their purchase to grab something, only to extract Momo by the tail who had sneaked in when no one had been looking.

Toph scoffed. "Why?" As Orora took the many apples Momo had been trying to sneak off with, leaving the annoyed animal with just one. "Because it's fun? And you hate fun?"

The girl huffed. "I don't hate fun!" Catching Momo as he sulked away, she placed him on her head. "See? Fun!" An awkward silence followed as Momo slipped off her head, screeched at her before running away.

Aang, not wanting to see Katara worry about something so mediocre stood up and lifted his headband to reveal the tattoo below. "Katara." He spoke solemnly, bowing. "I'll personally make you an Avatar Promise that we won't make a habit of doing these scams."

Katara smiled in satisfaction before turning her attention to Orora. The older girl blinked back. "What?" Katara gave her a look, one that had Orora pursing her lips before finally letting out an exaggerated groan.

"Alright! Alright! I'll make sure they don't get too carried away." She promised halfheartedly before pulling out another apple and offering it to Katara as a peace offering.

Of course all their promises meant nothing to any of them.

The very next day, after a successful round of scamming, Orora was happily wandering the streets of the town to see what she could buy. Sokka, Toph and Aang were carrying out another scam, but Orora had wanted to shop.

Pocketing the winnings from the scam she had pulled with the younger girl, she walked around in search of a good clothing shop. With the Invasion drawing near, she wanted to make something for herself. She had no desire to defeat the Fire Nation wearing their colors.

Besides, she missed wearing blue.

Though her chances were slim, maybe she would be able to find something?

She passed through the center of the town, and the sight that greeted her, had her coming to an abrupt halt.

There in the middle of the town stood a tall statue of the current Fire Lord. Orora stood there, staring up at him. Pure hatred raged in her heart as she looked at the likeness. This was the man who had burned Zuko. Who had stood over a young boy, a boy trying to do good, and mercilessly burned half his face off.

"Hey Orora!" Aang's voice barely registered in her mind as she stood where she was. The young Avatar raced to her side, his own gaze lifting towards the all too daunting presence of the statue.

"Its strange to finally put a face to the name, isn't it?" Aang said as he stood beside her. Not breaking her stare, she spoke to him. 'How do you mean?"

Aang shrugged. "Well we've all heard about Fire Lord Ozai for months, and I had no idea what he looked like till I went to school." She nodded. "Yeah, but now we have someone to picture when we talk of him." A brief pause before Aang spoke again. "He was the one who gave Zuko the scar right?" She had told them briefly about how Zuko had gotten the scar, but hadn't gone into the details. His words prompted her to tense up, her hands clenching in fists at her sides as she gritted her teeth. Anger ran through her veins as she turned on her heel and began to walk away. Aang followed after her.

"Hey! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to upset you!" The worry in his tone was what prompted her to finally halt and turn to him with a reassuring look. "You didn't Aang. I'm just angry at him for what he did to Zuko." Her gaze flickered to her string. "Which is strange because why should I be angry about what happened to him after what he did to me?" Aang's features morphed to an understanding yet sympathetic look as he took the older girl's hand in an effort to comfort her.

"Maybe because your feelings for him go a little more deeper then you realized." His statement had her frowning slightly, before she sighed and shook her head. "Well whatever the reason, I don't have time to think of him right now."

Forcing her thoughts to steer away from Zuko she instead smiled at Aang. "Come on! Help me find a fabric shop! I need to buy something!" Since they were still holding hands, she quickly led him away down the street in search of the aforementioned shop.

Leaving behind the statue of the man she hated.

Pushing aside the fact that her string had glowed red the entire time she had spoken with Aang, only disappearing when she finally entered the shop and began to browse the fabric, looking for the color she needed.

                                          ————————–

He had no idea what he was preparing for. During his training, he worked ten times harder. Be it perfecting his firebending forms, or practicing with his swords. His appetite had returned since he came back from Ember Island, resulting in him having more energy then he previously had.

While he did focus on the political part of his studies, he was no more interested in all the colonies the Fire Nation had created over the past hundred years. Not to mention the devastation caused.

The librarian had been a little surprised when Zuko had asked for those specific records, but everything was given to him because he was the Prince after all.

Everything the Fire Nation had done.

Every act of violence.

The number of people they had killed, not counting the entire Nation they had wiped out.

The resources that were being sent to the armies rather then being used by the general public.

The many many machines of war that had been created to support their so called cause.

The taxes imposed on the people to pay for the war.

The law stating every member of the family were to send two children to the front of the lines.

Nothing in all his findings told him anything about the Fire Nation actually contributing to the betterment of the world.

All they had done was take and leave nothing behind.

He remembered the time he had spent in the Earth Kingdom. All those people he had met on his journey. How in one way or another, every single one of them were effected by the Fire Nation.

The thousands of families displaced by the war.

The hundreds of families leaving behind their homes because it was no longer safe.

The children who had been orphaned.

The parents who had lost their children.

Soulmates who had lost their other half.

Uncle had lost his son.

Lu Ten had lost his life.

Aang lost his entire people.

Katara and Sokka lost their mother.

Song was scarred just like he was.

Lee had lost his brother.

Orora had almost been killed.

And so many countless others.

And all of them, had one thing in common.

They all hated the Fire Nation. No one respected them. They all feared and hated him and his people.

He hadn't helped in that belief by chasing Aang and his friends around the world. And then he had gone and betrayed Orora. Then he had sent that assassin after them.

Maybe Mai was right.

Maybe he did need to go out and find her. Tell her that he was beginning to think that the decision he had made in Ba Sing Se was the wrong one.

But how could he leave?

He couldn't just up and go, that would raise suspicion, and his father might send someone after him.

As he lay there with his hand held aloft so he could look at his glowing string, Zuko came to a decision.

The first chance he got, he would leave everything, find Orora, and join the people working against the Fire Nation to put a stop to it's tyrannical rule.

Once and for all.

                                          ————————–

Their escape from the newly named Combustion Man was a close call.

Too close.

In fact, it had put all of them on edge, and they'd taken to flying as far away from that town as possible.

In hindsight, maybe she should've discouraged them from telling scary stories as a way to unwind after their most stressful encounter yet. Orora had to admit, the place they had decided to make camp was spookier then any place they had spent the night at. Or maybe it was just her imagination, she mused to herself as they all sat around the fire.

"Water Tribe slumber parties must stink." Toph stated when one of Sokka's scary stories was not well-received. "I've never been to one, so I can't be the judge of that." The older girl put in her two thoughts, adding another dried stick to the fire the burned between them.

"No, wait! I've got one!" Katara spoke up from where she sat. "And this is a true Southern Water Tribe story."

Sokka rolled his eyes, not believing his sister. "Is this one of those 'a friend of my cousin knew some guy that this happened to' stories?" He said in a sarcastic tone, to which Katara shook her head.

"No, it happened to Mom." Upon hearing that, Sokka stiffened and everyone stopped moving as they sat in utter stillness, waiting for Katara to begin her story.

"One winter when Mom was a girl," She began, her voice low and soft. "A snowstorm buried the whole village for weeks. A month later, Mom noticed she hadn't seen her friend Nini since the storm. So Mom and some others went to check on Nini's family. When they got there, no one was home." A shiver ran down Orora's spine, her arms came to wrap around her legs as she hugged herself, eyes wide as she stared at Katara.

"Just a fire flickering in the fireplace. While the men went out to search, Mom stayed in the house. When she was alone, she heard a voice. 'It's so cold and I can't get warm!'" Sokka stiffened with fear, and even Toph gulped nervously where she sat. "Mom turned and saw Nini standing by the fire. She was blue like she was frozen. Mom ran outside for help, but when everyone came back, Nini was gone."

Aang used Momo's ears to cover his face in fear, while Orora quickly shifted to sit beside Toph, who didn't hesitate in grabbing her hand as they huddled together. Sokka, who had taken to hiding behind a gnarled tree stump peaked out. "Where'd she go?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Katara shook her head. "No one knows. Nini's house stands empty to this day, but sometimes, people see smoke coming up from the chimney, like little Nini is still trying to get warm." Orora glanced over her shoulder, as if she expected Nini to be standing right there behind her.

Suddenly Toph straightened up, placing her hand on the ground. "Wait! Guys, did you hear that?" Her movement was so sudden that Orora let out a broken shriek, while Aang, Katara and Sokka clutched at one another, staring around in fear.

"I hear people under the mountain. And they're screaming." Orora blinked. "Wh-what?" She gulped, ice blue eyes wide in fear as she stared around their small camp. Sokka, assuming Toph was just joking relaxed his grip around his sister and scoffed.

"Pfft! Nice try." Toph shook her head, her hand still pressed to the ground. "No, I'm serious. I hear something." She insisted, as Orora shifted to quickly sit beside Aang who was still hugging Katara. "Toph, cut it out. You're scaring everyone." She insisted, though even her voice sounded small and meek to her own ears.

A horde of physical enemies she could face any day, but spooky stories? That was a weakness her brothers had exploited when she had been younger.

"You're probably just jumpy from the ghost stories." Katara insisted, glancing at Aang and Orora in worry, who were both huddled together.

Toph frowned. "It just ... stopped." Aang gulped, clutching on to both Katara and Orora. "All right, now I'm getting scared."

Suddenly a voice called out through the darkness, soft and gentle. "Hello, children."

The camp rang loudly with the screams of said children as they scrambled around trying to find a place to hide. But then they all stopped when they saw what, or rather who had emerged from the shadows.

An elderly woman.

An elderly woman who turned out to be a Southern Water Tribe waterbender named Hama. Who told them all about what had happened during the Fire Nation raids, and how she had escaped them before hiding here.

It was all sad and heartbreaking, and yet, perhaps it was the scary stories still floating around in her mind, or perhaps it was her older sister instinct, or the fact that they were being hunted.

But somehow, Orora didn't trust Hama.

All because the old woman seemed to watch Katara's every move with a greedy, almost hungry, look on her face when she didn't think anyone was looking.

But Orora was.

Orora was always looking.

Always looking out for her family.

Which was why the night Hama told everyone what had happened to her, Orora pulled Sokka away from the rest of the dinner party to speak with him.

"Aww come on Orora! I was just going in for seconds!' He whined as she shut the door behind them and stepped outside in the night. She gave him a look that had him frowning. "Whats up?"

No sooner had he voiced his question before she spoke, making sure she kept her voice down. "Its just...." She wrapped her arms around herself, eyes looking around nervously. "I don't know something about this place and Hama makes me feel uneasy." She revealed to which Sokka nodded. "Well the stories of people disappearing certainly doesn't help." He added, to which Orora simply nodded.

Reaching out he gave her a comforting pat on the back. "Look, we're just gonna solve this mystery, then be on our way. Don't worry, we'll all be on our guard. And remember what Aang said, not everyone we run into is bad or out to get us." When she gave him an unconvincing look he sighed.

"Look, I get you would be nervous when it comes to trusting people, but you have all of us watching your back and each other's, so really there's no need to worry." And though Sokka's words did bring her some comfort, Orora still remained alert, not wanting to be caught off guard.

Of course, that amounted to nothing when the very next morning, Hama asked to see her under the pretense of having her get something from the market, only to knock her out from behind and drag her away into the forest.

Orora woke just as Hama was tying her wrists and feet to keep her from running away. Still groggy from the hit to the back of her head, which was still hurting, Orora was barely aware of where she was as she watched the old crone go about securing her.

"You know, when the first raid happened, we sent a message to our sister Nation, begging for help. To send reinforcements." Hama spoke once she was satisfied with her bonds. A filthy rag was wrapped around her mouth to keep her from screaming. Despite the pain, the young waterbender was able to glare fiercely at Hama, anger burning in her ice blue eyes.

"Of course being so far away, they couldn't send help in time. But my brothers and sisters did hold out during our first few months in our cells. Thinking that perhaps our Northern brothers and sisters would come to rescue us." She turned her hateful gaze towards the young girl, who glared right back.

"However, with every full moon that passed, we realized that no help was coming. And whatever hope we had of escaping slowly died. And though I realize you are not directly responsible for your forefathers actions." The old crone leaned down right in Orora's face as she smiled coldly at her. "Holding you accountable is the next best thing."

Orora felt herself grow cold, her mind racing with all the possibilities that Hama would carry out on her out of the anger and hatred that had festered in her for so long.

Running her long bony fingers through the white patch of her hair in a condescending manner, Hama hummed as she smiled. "Now, why don't you wait here while I have a one-on-one lesson with your friend Katara."

Her fear for Katara triumphed her own own fear. She tried her best struggling and thrashing to get away, but Hama was strong, stronger then she looked. Pulling on the rope, she was able to tie Orora to a tree, tight and secure her there.

"I'll be back for you." She promised, before walking off, leaving the girl to struggle and call out into the wind, her voice muffled and barely audible.

The entire day she pulled and thrashed, trying to free herself. Her wrists began to ache and she knew she had split the skin from where the ropes burned against her. Even her ankles burned, and her throat ached from screaming.

All that for nothing.

Finally, during mid afternoon, she gave up. Her head hung to the side as she began to doze off, the occurrences of the day getting to her. Tears of frustration burned her eyes at every waking interval, as she cursed her own stupidity, and for not listening to her instincts.

She was worried.

Worried for her friends. But especially for Katara.

What would Hama do to her?

All day long, the questions and scenarios plagued her mind. Slowly, the sun set and the sounds of the night roused her from her half-asleep stupor. The bright light from the moon shone down on her, prompting her to inhale deeply, taking in the strength it provided her with. Her tired body gained a little strength, though the back of her head still stung from where she had been hit.

Suddenly, she heard voices.

Her ears pricked up and she focused on the voices that approached her.

Hama and Katara.

Instantly she began to squirm and pull at her restraints. She could feel the dried blood on her wrists split as fresh blood oozed out.

"And to make sure, you learn what I have to teach you, I brought a little incentive."

Suddenly Hama appeared in her view, making her recoil in fright. The old woman worked quickly, untying her from the tree and pulling her towards the clearing where Katara was standing.

"Orora!" Katara's shocked voice cut through the night, echoing the clearing as the older girl lay battered and bruised at the old woman's feet. "What have you done to her? Let her go!" She demanded, stepping forward, to which Hama held up a placating hand.

"What I'm about to show you." Hama began, glaring down at Orora in a menacing manner before turning her attention back to Katara. "I discovered in that wretched Fire Nation prison."

Orora only caught snippets of the story, trying hard not to pass out from the pain that radiated from her head. It was so difficult to focus when all she could pay attention to was the stricken look on Katara's face. But she did manage to catch the important parts of the story.

Hama had created a new sub-form of waterbending.

One that allowed her to control the water within any living creature.

Bloodbending, she called it.

"Once you perfect this technique, you can control anything or anyone." Hama continued, her gaze dropping to Orora who tried her best to glare back at her.

Katara shook her head. "But..... to reach inside someone and control them? I don't know if I want that kind of power." She said, casting a worried look in Orora's direction.

Hama shook her head. "The choice is not yours. The power exists. And it's your duty to use the gifts you've been given to win this war." she urged, before appealing to Katara's kind nature. "Katara, they tried to wipe us out, our entire culture, your mother!"

Katara closed her eyes, thinking of her mother. "I know." She whispered.

"And our sister Tribe did nothing to help." Hama added, glaring down at Orora. "You should understand what I'm talking about! We're the last two waterbenders of the Southern Tribe. We have to fight these people whenever we can, wherever they are, with any means necessary!" She concluded, that scary, desperate and mad gleam coming to her eyes once more.

Katara's eyes widened in shock. "It's you! You're the one who's been making people disappear during the full moons!" Her gaze flickered to Orora. "Let Orora go! Now!"

In response, Hama simply growled. "They threw me in prison to rot, along with my brothers and sisters! And her people did nothing to help! They all deserve the same! You must carry on my work!"

The younger waterbender shook her head, pointing at Hama. "I won't!" Pride swelled in Orora as she watched her friend stand up for what was right. "I won't use bloodbending and I won't allow you to keep terrorizing this town!"

Suddenly Orora felt her entire body freeze up. A horrified gasp was muffled by the cloth around her mouth as she felt her entire body lift from the ground, the bonds fell from around her wrists and ankles as her arms and legs contorting in unnatural angles, her head falling to the side.

Her eyes widened in horror, as she tried, but failed, to move her limbs.

"You should've learned the technique before you turned against me!" Hama's voice came, snapping her out of her terrified state. Her eyes were all that she could control as they darted around, trying to see what was going on, and to escape. "It's impossible to fight your way out of my grip! I control every muscle, every vein in your body!"

With swift motions of her hands and arms, Hama used bloodbending to bring them both side by side before beginning to throw them around. The first swing had Orora crashing through branches, the sharp edges scratching her skin as she went. Somehow, her rag loosened from around her mouth, allowing her cries of pain to echo all around her.

Hama slammed her onto the ground, making her hit her head. She paused briefly with Katara, as turned her attention on Orora instead. "I'll deal with you later." She hissed, before throwing the girl to the side. Her helpless body slammed against a tree trunk, which shuddered from the impact.

The hit was enough for her to drop to the floor and for her vision to go black.

Orora's ears rang with the sound of Katara pleading and crying for Hama to stop, before everything went black.

She roused to someone shaking her shoulder.

Ice blue eyes snapped open. Adrenaline coursed through her body as she sat up, arms held aloft and at the ready to defend herself. Only to be greeted by the sight of Sokka leaning over her with a worried look. He'd barely opened his mouth to say something when something or rather someone over his eye caught her attention.

Katara.

Sobbing hysterically as Aang held her.

Her entire body screamed with pain, and yet she pushed past Sokka, barely noticing the various cuts and bruises her whole body supported. Aang pulled back a little from his embrace, looking at Orora in a helpless manner. The older girl wasted no time.

She wrapped her arms around the younger girl in a fierce and protective embrace, holding her close. Katara, realizing who was holding her, began to cry anew, burying her face in Orora's chest, her entire body shaking with each sob that wrecked through her. Orora could feel her own emotions welling to the surface, prompting tears to silently cascade down her cheeks as she held and did her best to comfort her sister.

It took awhile for them both to calm down, but once they were, they didn't waste any time climbing atop Appa and flying away into the night.

Katara sat next to her brother, leaning against him for support. Aang sat on Appa's head, though every now and then he would glance back at his soulmate in worry. Toph sat next to Orora who had Momo in her lap. "You should heal yourself." Toph spoke softly, reaching out to place her water satchel in her hands. The girl gave a nod, pulling out the water and healing the injury to the back of her head, the open wounds on her wrists and around her ankles, as well as the various cuts that littered her any skin that wasn't covered in fabric.

It was a little slow work, since her limbs felt stiff. Not to mention her whole body ached. From being thrown against a tree or because Hama controlled her entire body. She didn't know. It was a truly terrifying experience. Not being able to control her actions and being at the mercy of a mad woman.

Once done, she threw the water to the side since it was mixed with blood and dirt.

Her mind was still heavy with all that she had endured, but nothing could compare to what Katara was feeling. She pursed her lips as she stared worriedly at the younger girl. Her gaze met Sokka's who shared in her worry.

Walking on her knees, she was able to catch Aang's attention, who came to sit on Katara's other side. Guiding Toph to sit beside her, with Aang on her right side, Orora reached out and took Katara's hands.

"I think we've shared enough scary stories." Everyone, minus Katara, gave weak smiles at her attempt to make a joke. "We could all do with something a little more brighter and happier." Katara raised her red-rimmed eyes at her, her usually bright blue eyes looking so dull and hopeless that it broke her own heart. "So I'm going to recite this poem I love, about two soulmates, and the love they had for one another. Sound good?"

When no objection came, she nodded. Closing her eyes briefly, she cleared her throat and began to speak.

Her voice was soft and gentle, the words hopeful and full of love. So unlike everything they had faced in the past few days. Maybe it was the poem or maybe it was the fact that they were all together, and they were safe.

Whatever it was, it helped.

And slowly, gradually, eventually, the darkness around them began to lift.

                                          ————————–

He was dreaming.

It had been a long while since he had dreamed.

Or rather dreamed of her.

And yet, there she was, standing there with his back to him, staring out at the open ocean that gleamed under the light of the full moon.

He slowly walked up to her, unable to hesitate or even think it through. Why? Because he wanted to be near her. He wanted to see her face. In that moment nothing else mattered. Not the beautiful scenery or that this was all in his head.

He just missed her so much.

Once he reached her, he was surprised to see that she was crying. Her eyes were closed, and tears were sliding down her cheeks, every tear gleaming like a diamond against her beautiful skin.

Where he had been unable to approach her when she had appeared to him crying once before, this time Zuko didn't even think about what he had to do.

He reached up, cupping her face, prompting her to open her eyes and look at him.

Sorrowful blue met gentle warm amber.

His thumb wiped at a tear that escaped her gorgeous eyes. Call it wishful thinking, but maybe she leaned into his touch a little, as if drawing comfort from him. His head leaned down, pressing their forehead together, their noses brushing.

This was all a dream. Zuko knew that.

So then why did it all feel so real?

"I'll come back to you." He whispered, prompting her to open her eyes and look at him, the surprise clear across her features. "I promise." So saying, he shifted so his lips could press against the middle of her forehead in a tender kiss. Orora closed her eyes again, relishing in his presence, one that she had so sorely missed and yet had never admitted to herself that she did.

He pulled back, but only to hold up the finger that had his string tied around it. Of course, if was glowing a bright blue. Orora's eyes widened, and he knew she saw the color. Slowly, she lifted her own finger, showing the red hue that gleamed there, warm and bright. Zuko couldn't help the breathless laugh of happiness that escaped his lips. The sound prompted a smile to form on Orora's lips as she allowed their fingers to intertwine, allowing whatever length was left between their strings to completely disappear. Their gazes met.

"I'll be waiting."

                                          ————————–

When she awoke, there was a warmth on her forehead where Zuko had kissed her. Her string glowed a bright red through the day.

                                          ————————–

When he awoke, there was a warmth in his heart and a lightness to his soul. His string glowed a bright blue throughout the day.

                                          ————————–

And it scared her.

                                          ————————–

And it gave him strength.

                                           ————————–

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[astro-b-o-y-d]

Triangulum - Chapter 5 - Fake Fights and Failed Flights

— — — — — — —

“I still don’t know what you’re making over there, but if I could toss out a suggestion: you can’t go wrong with copious amounts of glitter~! Ooh, or flames spray-painted on the side! Makes for a great accent to any art project!”

Bill’s remark didn’t even earn so much as a glance from Ford, his gaze fixed solely on the desk before him as he continued to work on his mysterious project.

A project which Bill had continued to try and get a glimpse of every time Ford stepped away from his desk to fetch more—just as mysterious—supplies. But much like the first time, any attempt to stretch or crane his neck for a peek at the desk’s contents only ended in failure. And at one point, resulted in Ford’s only acknowledgment of him throughout the entire process—in the form of propping one of his books upright on the desk, to further block his line of sight. An action that had earned a drawn-out eye roll on Bill’s end; somebody was being dramatic for the sake of dramatics.

Eventually, however, Ford rose from his chair a final time and reached for the mysterious whatever that waited on the desk before him. And it was only once he turned back towards the far side of the study and reapproached the rope circle that Bill finally got a clear look at the fruits of the man’s labor.

“…A sock puppet. Adorable.”

Sure enough, Ford had haphazardly sewn googly eyes and little pipe cleaner arms to a worn sock, one that Bill assumed had come from the emergency stash of clothes he kept up in the bathroom. It was a rush job, far more amateur than the work he would normally put into an artisanal project. But even a clueless idiot could take one look at his creation and coin it as a puppet of sorts.

After a double-check of the stitching to make sure the various parts would stay connected to the sock, Ford knelt down just outside of the rope circle before setting the crude little puppet down at his feet—

—and he waited.

Bill watched him for a few minutes, eyebrow raised, before—

Ah.

Okay, he knew what was happening now. 

“Trying to contact the poor sucker whose body I’m playing puppetmaster with?” he guessed aloud. “Come on, Sixer, you can’t pretend you aren’t~!”

“They’re likely to give me more answers than you ever will.”

Both of Bill’s eyebrows shot further up his forehead. After the many times Ford had ignored him throughout the past day, it was truly a surprise to get an actual response out of him!

Both a surprise and an annoyance, one that earned him a hard raspberry from Bill—which was immediately followed by the loud sound of him smacking his lips with discomfort. Eugh—it just felt so wrong to have a tongue that wasn’t tenderly and carefully tucked beneath his eyeball. Or rows of teeth that pressed uncomfortably against each other, as opposed to retracting into slots around his eyeball when not in use.

Oh, right, he was mocking Ford—“I mean, you say that, but out of the two of us, which one was refusing to talk all night?” he taunted. “I mean, I tried and tried to have a nice chat—ask about what you’ve been up to for the past few months, how the family’s been—but you were being just as stubborn as ever.”

Ford didn’t respond, his gaze fixed solely on the puppet as he waited for something to happen. And Bill couldn’t help but let his own eyes fall to the crude little sock creation as well, while he also waited in just-as-curious silence. 

Sure, Birdbrain had plunked him back down in a human body, but they hadn’t elaborated on where they’d be getting that body in the first place. Heck, they’d been downright sneaky about what body they’d planned on sticking him into, deliberately avoiding any specifies right up until the second before they zapped him outta their mindscape. 

But unless they somehow possessed the ability to create a brand new body from nothing, they would’ve had to get his vessel from somewhere. 

And if they'd actually resorted to pulling out the soul of some unlucky chump and recycling the leftovers for him to use as his own, then Bill couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t the tiniest bit curious about what said chump was like in the personality department. 

…Of course if they were hoping to get their body back from him, then they were straight-up outta luck in that regard. Finders keepers, pal! 

But hey, no harm in being a little curious about his vessel's origins. Curiosity killed the cat, after all—and a dead animal here and there always added a delightful splash of color to the room.

The two of them waited a minute, two minutes, five minutes—

But the puppet remained an immobile lump on the hard, wooden floor.

“Now, I might be wrong,” Bill finally spoke up after their waiting period hit the seven-minute mark. “But I feel like something should’ve happened by this point. Just a guess, though!”

Ford remained silent, eyes still fixed on the puppet—

—before he too decided to call it quits, and rose to his feet. “Well, I suppose that answers a few questions,” he muttered to himself. “Alright, on to the next step…”

Bill bit back the urge to pester Ford with an inquiry of: “Oh, and what’s the next step, Smart Guy?” and instead kept his attention on the sock puppet as Ford headed back to the desk. Even if nothing had actually happened, it had still given him a few more hints about the kind of body possession he was dealing with at the moment.

If Birdbrain had done some soul switcharoo-ing to free up a body, the original soul would’ve likely pulled a Pine Tree and used whatever other vessel they could get their hands on—in order to communicate as much to anyone willing to listen. 

So if they hadn’t been tempted by the puppet equivalent of the bargain bin—nobody’s first choice but it would do in a desperate pinch—then there were a few possibilities.

One: they had already found a vessel somewhere else to claim as their own. An unlikely guess if his theory of Ford finding him close to the Shack turned out to be correct—a soul whose body was being temporarily borrowed by someone would ideally stick as close to the body as possible. Or at least, if someone else had found a way to parade Bill’s body around as their own, he knew for a fact that he’d personally be hovering around it at all times and annoying the thief into giving it back.

Two: Birdbrain had thought ahead and decided to keep a tight leash on the soul, to prevent it from trying to take its body back. A possibility more likely than the first, although Bill had no way of clarifying this fact without finding some way to contact Tangy at all.

His brow furrowed as his thoughts switched gears to that smug, feathered jerk. He still had plans to play their dumb game, but he’d already wasted most of the past day being tied to a chair. How was he supposed to track down the stupid little bricks to their stupid little charm if he couldn’t even move from this stupid little chair?

Concerns to gripe about later—Right now, he was on to possibility number three; the body had no former host, and Birdbrain has just crafted him a new body from scratch.

Making something from nothing was a task only the most powerful of entities could perform. Bill would know from experience; he’d been able to do it once he’d escaped from the Nightmare Realm and ventured into this dimension—crafting a beautiful, three-dimensional pyramid body for himself. 

How he missed that body dearly—he had even sprung for a square base over a triangular one, just to mix things up a little bit. Sure, it’d mostly been a spur-of-the-moment idea, but settling his consciousness into such a form had just felt so right for him. A rightness that he would probably unpack at some point in the future, when he no longer had to focus on the task at hand.

But creating an entirely new, physical vessel from within the mindscape itself, all without a rift to the dimension where it would be used? 

That was something that even he hadn’t been able to accomplish. If he had, he wouldn’t have needed the help from mortals with crafting a portal in the first place—he could’ve simply cut out the middle man, poofed a ready-made vessel into existence, and used that to build the portal himself.

If Birdbrain possessed that much power, then—

“A-ha! Found it!”

Bill was snapped from his thoughts by the sound of Ford’s voice, and he looked up to see him approaching the circle again. “Yeesh, took you long enough,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to bore me to death with all your dull research and secret art projects~!”

“I do have my reasons for both,” Ford admitted as he drew closer. “That much I am willing to disclose to you.”

“Oh~?” Bill perked up with curiosity. “And what reasons are those?”

As Ford finally came to a stop outside the circle and knelt down to pick up the sock puppet, Bill could see something cradled in one of his hands. 

A small burlap sack, hardly bigger than his palm—

“I needed to determine the proper dosage to knock someone of your stature out cold.”

—oh, he was not serious!

The puppet was dropped inside the rope circle near his feet, and before Bill could finish his irate warning of: “Stanford, don’t you dare—”, Ford was already tossing the bag’s contents at his face.

Bill sputtered as a pink burst of fairy dust hit him square in the mouth, yanking his arms desperately against his restraints in the hopes of freeing one so he could wipe his face clean. 

But it was only a matter of seconds later that the sleep effects start to overtake his vessel’s fragile immune system, and his body drooped forward with exhaustion. 

He saw Ford step into the circle and continue towards him, reaching a hand into his pocket—

—and Bill managed one feeble kick of his leg before he once again slipped into unconsciousness.

— — — — — — —

“Okay, get a load of this~!”

After a quick glance back at the younger teens to make sure she had their attention, Wendy pulled a flashlight from her belt loop and took aim at the nearby half-pipe. One press of the button later and the ramp had been shrunken down to a size more suitable for skateboarding ants, rather than people or Abominable Bro-men.

With a pleased grin, Wendy strolled over to scoop it up off the ground. “You guys have no idea what kind of geniuses you were to put this thing together,” she said, giving it a light shake to clear away the miniscule soda cans. “It makes cleaning up the exhibits soooo much easier!”

“I just can’t believe I never thought to use it for cleaning before,” Dipper said from where the two of them were seated. “Do you know how easy it’d be to clean under my bed if I could just shrink it first? Or how much time I could save on washing clothes if they were half-an-inch tall?”

“Sounds like you’ve got a possible patent on your hands,” Wendy said, setting the shrunken half-pipe into a storage box. “But I came up with the cleaning idea, so I want at least seventy percent of the cut.”

“Aww, what? I’m the one who invented the thing,” Dipper pointed out. “Forty-sixty split where I’m getting the sixty, or no deal.”

Wendy rolled her eyes. “Ugh, fine, what if we make it fifty-fifty but I get to pick the name?”

“No way! I made it, I should get to name it!”

“Oh, yeah?” 

She raised an eyebrow at him. “So what did you name it?”

At this question, Dipper suddenly became very interested in the dirt beneath his shoes. “...I mean, I said I should get to name it, not that I’ve actually named it yet,” he muttered weakly. “But you know, if you happen to have a name already picked out, I’m open to suggestions or whatever…”

With a laugh, Wendy lightly tapped the flashlight against her leg as she pondered ideas. “What about…the Shrink-and-Scrub?” she suggested. “The main words start with the same letter, it’s catchy…would probably snag the attention of overworked parents or something.”

“Not bad, not bad,” Dipper mused thoughtfully. “But you’re not really scrubbing with it, are you? We could get slapped with a false advertising charge.”

“Ooh, good call! Whaddaya think, Mabel, you got any good name ideas?”

Dipper turned to face his sister, seated on the ground next to him with her attention on her phone. At Wendy’s question, however, she lowered the screen with a contemplative look. “The…Shrink-and-Span? Like spick-and-span, but there’s shrinking? And it still sounds all clean-y and stuff?” 

She placed her phone on the ground next to her so she could make a growing-shrinking motion with her hands. “Also Span, like Ex-span…d? It’s almost a pun and people love puns!”

Her arms were thrown into the air with bright enthusiasm, but it was only seconds later before both her posture and expression sank again. “I dunno…”

While she slipped her chin back into one hand and her phone back into the other, Dipper and Wendy exchanged a knowing look. “Man, even when you’re down in the dumps, you’re still better at this than both of us,” Wendy said.

Mabel’s response was a sad hum, and Dipper scooted closer to place a hand on her shoulder. “Still worried, huh?” he asked. “I thought the streamer thing would’ve made you at least a little bit excited.”

“I can’t work my Mabel Magic on the shack until everything’s all cleaned up,” Mabel explained. “Which means I gotta sit and think about Bill and Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford and everything else we had to worry about last year!”

Her hands once against returned to the air as she continued to speak: “We were gonna spend so much time with both Stan and Ford this summer! But now that big, dumb, pointy, jerky…jerkface is back and they’re fighting because of him, and—and—”

Rather than finish her sentence, she reached to her sweater collar and pulled it up over her face with a groan—an action that earned a comforting shoulder pat from her brother. “Come on, Mabel, you’re not really gonna believe what Bill said about Stan and Ford fighting, are you?”

“Yeah,” Wendy added. “Isn’t the guy, like, a notorious liar or something? Who cares if he says they’re fighting?”

“It’s not what he said,” Mabel explained, pulling the collar back down past her mouth. “It’s what they’re doing! I mean, you and Grunkle Stan went to give Ford his breakfast, right?”

She directed this question at Dipper, who nodded in response. “Yeah, so?”

“Well, what happened when you did?”

“Not a whole lot,” Dipper said, and began to tick off his fingers. “We went to Abuelita’s bedroom, Bill was trying to be as creepy as possible, we went out into the hallway to talk about Ford’s plan—”

His hand sank a bit. “—Stan started getting upset because Ford wasn’t letting him help,” he finished defeatedly. “And then I…left to go up to the bedroom.”

Mabel pointed to Wendy, who had occupied herself by taking aim at another exhibit. “And what happened after that?”

“Well…Stan came storming up the hallway,” Wendy began, placing the newly-shrunken exhibit into the box with the others. “And then he—”

She hesitated to reply for a few seconds, before pressing a hand to the back of her neck. “—he punched the wall and went out to the boat.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re fighting, though!” Dipper added quickly. “It could mean anything! Maybe Bill was getting on Grunkle Stan’s nerves, and he got frustrated before he…stormed away and punched a wall about it?”

A pause. “…Even though he already punched Bill in the face last night and probably wouldn’t have to just punch a wall if Bill was getting on his nerves again?”

Mabel flumped over her knees with another groan. “You see? They are fighting! And now Grunkle Ford’s down in his lab doing lots of secret sciencey stuff, while Grunkle Stan’s over on the boat, doing secret boaty stuff—”

They all turned their heads in the direction of the Stan-O’-War 2 before she continued: “They’re doing stuff by themselves instead of together, like last year!”

She pulled her collar back over her face. “I don’t want things to be like last year…”

While Dipper gave her shoulder another comforting pat, Wendy kept her attention fixed on the Stan-O’-War 2 for a bit longer, before letting it travel across the yard towards the waiting Manotaur stage at the edge of the woods.

A stage which she eyed for a second, then the flashlight in her hand for another, before turning back to the twins with a wink. “Hey, you know, we never got around to having that fight yesterday,” she said. “You dorks up for—oh, wait, lemme just—”

She held up the Shrink Ray and fired it at the stage, quickly rushing to shake it clean of any debris left from the previous day’s performance. And once it was properly cleared and regrown to its original size, she spun around to face them again. “Alright, so now that we don’t have to worry about stepping on broken glass and wood, you dorks up for a little random gratuitous violence to get out some of those bad Bill feelings?”

Dipper’s mouth curled into a small smile as he gave his sister’s shoulder a light nudge. “Whaddaya think, Mabel? Would punching out some of those feelings about the jerky jerkface make you feel better?”

There was a pause, before Mabel pulled the collar back down again with a curious peek. “Can I pretend you’re Bill while we fight?”

After another wink in her direction, Wendy slapped a hand over one eye. “Come on, Falling Star!” she said in a high-pitched voice. “Betcha wanna punch me real hard in my stupid, triangle face!”

With a grin, Mabel bounded to her feet with delight. “Actually, he calls me ‘Shooting Star’,” she corrected. “But if you do that funny voice again, I’m so in!”

“Atta girl,” Wendy said, the hand over her eye shifting into a thumbs up before she broke into a sprint toward the stage steps. “Come on, let’s get our swings in before Soos and Melody notice that I’m taking my break!”

— — — — — — —

“Massive Maude? Nah, nah, that wouldn’t work—little jerk can’t leave town. Ahab’s Harpoon through the chest? Nope, can’t kill him—”

Stan flipped to the next page with a huff, his fingertip trailing down past every little location, creature, and discovery Ford had listed during their oversea adventures. 

And as he’d initially suspected, most of the potential ways to rid themselves of a pesky triangle demon involved killing Bill outright—deeming themselves a no-go, according to Ford’s previously-established mumbo-jumbo about how they couldn’t kill the body.

Stan let out another gruff sigh as he slammed the journal shut. Yeesh, his only lead and so far it was proving to be completely useless. Too bad Ford had made the choice to chuck all the other journals down into the Bottomless Pit. It had probably been really cathartic for him, but in hindsight, they would’ve really come in handy at a time like this—

“Wait a sec—”

He pressed a hand to his chin, the metaphorical ding of a lightbulb almost audible as an idea began to form. It was a longshot after what happened last year—so much was scattered after the kids turned the Shack into a massive fighting robot that he wasn’t sure if there would be anything left to find.

But on the other hand, the only thing that had managed to pry open his safe in the past had been straight up dynamite. Meaning anything that had been locked away during last summer’s rigamarole had a fifty-fifty chance at still being there to this day.

Moving the hand to his hair, he turned his gaze to the door. The idea also required him to venture back into the house, which came with the risk of running into Ford again.

And the last thing Stan wanted or needed was to get into another row with him, especially not in front of everyone else. 

Not that he wouldn’t deserve getting an earful from Ford after what he’d said earlier, but—

After letting the hand drag back down his face as slowly as possible, he exhaled a groan and made his way across the room to the door. Heck with it—even if Ford still wanted to handle all of this alone, at least Stan could try to be of some use to him and get all his research together in one place. Whether or not he wanted to use it was up to Ford himself, but at least he’d have the option if Stan’s intuition turned out to be correct.

Plus even if it was a longshot, could he really call himself a true gambler if he cowered away from risky odds?

…Not to mention his office was pretty close to the stairs and he could always make a mad dash back to the boat if Ford came up the hall.

— — — — — — —

“Alright, squirts, let’s see who can knock me down!”

Wendy raised her fists with a determined look. “Come on, who wants to go first?”

From the opposite end of the stage, Mabel pressed her own hands to her mouth in a giggle. “Hey, I thought you said you were gonna act like Bill while we fought?”

“Yeah, no sense in getting out these bad Bill feelings without the Bill part, right?” Dipper added.

With a nod of agreement, Wendy’s hand returned to her eye as a wide, devious smile spread across her face. “Hahahaha, look at me!” she said in that same high-pitched voice from before. “I’m a stupid triangle who throws bad parties and wears a dumb hat!”

While the twins dissolved in a fit of laughter, she stomped around the stage in an exaggerated fashion. “I think I’m the coolest and most powerful guy in the world, but I was defeated by an old man punching me in my stupid, dumb face!”

“Don’t forget kittens and tickles!” Mabel jeered in delight.

“I was defeated by kittens, tickles, and an old man punching me in my stupid, dumb face! Do-do-dodo, I’m so stupid and terrible!”

She stuck her tongue out for an extended raspberry—an action that only earned more laughter—and made a beckoning motion towards Dipper with her hand. “Come on, Pine Tree!” she taunted. “Betcha can’t knock me on my sorry, triangle butt!”

After a few deep breaths to compose himself, Dipper raised his fists. “Betcha I can!”

“Aww, wait, why’s he get to go first?” Mabel whined. “Didn’t we come over here so I could get out some of my bad Bill feelings?”

“Well, yeah,” Dipper said. “But I mean, I’ve got beef with Bill too. And throwing a couple of punches about it would probably be fun.”

“Rock-paper-scissors to see who goes first?” Wendy suggested.

The twins exchanged another look—and after a quick three rounds, Mabel was left disappointed while Dipper took his spot on the stage near Wendy. However, her sour mood was quickly replaced with a fist pump and several supportive cheers of: “Go, Dipper! Play dirty if you gotta!”

Dipper chuckled. “Mabel, come on, I’m not gonna—”

Without warning, he rushed at Wendy with a charging fury and threw as much of his weight against her body as he could muster. Despite the unexpected attack, Wendy managed to stay solid on her feet—

—until Dipper’s arms were suddenly wrapped around her lower legs and he gave a sharp yank towards his own body, causing her to stumble and fall hard to the stage from a lack of balance.

Still clutching her legs, Dipper stared with a look of complete bewilderment on his face—as if his own successful attempt to bring her down had surprised even himself. “Haha, woah—I can’t believe that worked!” he said with a shaky laugh. “I’ve never actually tried that with anyone but Waddles before!”

“Woo! Go Dipper!” Mabel called, clapping her hands with proud enthusiasm. “I’ll bet if you’d done that to the real Bill, he would’ve been soooooo embarrassed!”

From the stage, Wendy let out a laugh of her own. “She’s not wrong. Also, you can let go of me now.”

With a yelp of surprise, Dipper dropped her legs in an instant. “Ah—sorry!”

Despite the hard thump of her legs against the stage, Wendy was quick to pull herself up into a proper kneeling position. “No worries, dude,” she reassured him with a grin. “Pretty sweet trick, though. Where’d you learn that?”

“A few months back, Waddles found the secret stash of snacks I hid under my bed and kept being real determined to get to them,” he explained. “It was either establish dominance and learn how to drag him out from under the bed by his lower half, or admit defeat to a pig.”

He flexed his arm with a smile. “And guess who didn’t have to admit defeat to a pig~?”

“And now you know how to knock down Wendy!” Mabel called from her spot. “Sounds like someone needs to give Waddles a well-earned thank you later.”

Wendy raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you just move your snack haul somewhere else?”

“Closet’s too full of Mabel’s sweaters and the dresser makes everything taste like lint,” Dipper said matter-of-factly.

“Well, either way, color me impressed,” Wendy said, before looking to where Mabel was situated. “Alright, Mabel, you’re up next~!”

Dipper approached her, holding his hand out for a hi-five. “Go get ‘em!”

Mabel slapped his hand with gusto as they passed each other and bounded over to where Wendy waited for her. “Okay, ‘Bill’,” she said, raising her fists. “Put ‘em up!”

Winking in return, Wendy slapped a hand back over her eye and thumbed the other across her nose. “Alright, Shooting Star,” she said with a fake sneer. “Let’s see what you got!”

“Woo! Go Mabel!” Dipper cheered from the side.

With a laugh, Mabel took a fighting stance of her own—

—only for her attention to shift towards something else at the far end of the yard. 

The other two followed her gaze over to the Stan-O’-War 2, where Stan could be seen exiting the cabin and making his way across the deck towards the ladder. With a smile, Mabel cupped her hands around her mouth and called loudly: “Hey, Grunkle Stan, over here!”

While his body language was low as his feet touched the ground, Stan perked up at the sound of Mabel’s voice—and his mouth spread into a smile when he turned around to see the rest of the kids gathered with her. 

He moved towards them with quick, determined steps—or as quickly and determined as a man his age could move—before he eventually slowed to a stop near the stage. “Whatcha gremlins gremlinin’ about out here?” he asked, propping his arms over the edge.

“They’re wrestling me while I pretend to be Bill,” Wendy explained. “Since they can’t exactly punch the real thing right now, I thought maybe getting a few swings in at someone pretending to be him would do the trick.”

Mabel hurried to Stan and seated herself near him, legs dangling down over the side. “Dipper won his fight!” she said excitedly. “And I was about to fight her next!”

“I pulled her legs out from under her,” Dipper elaborated, as he followed in his sister’s steps and seated himself on Stan’s opposite side.

Stan raised an eyebrow at Dipper. “Wo-ow, first the body hair and now you’re actually winning fights? You really are growin’ into a tried-and-true Pines, ain’tcha, kid?”

He reached up to plap a hand against the top of his hat. “You didn’t hear that from me, though, so don’t go gettin’ a big head about it.”

While Dipper beamed with pride, Wendy shot him a finger gun. “What about you, Mr. Pines?” she asked. “You up for getting a little of that Bill aggression outta your system?”

“Like you gotta ask,” Stan said. “Don’t think I should be wrestlin’ any of you about it, though. Not unless you’re lookin’ to get snapped in half.”

“I take offense at the implication that you could snap me in half,” Wendy said, although her grin implied otherwise.

“I take offense at the implication that I couldn’t.”

He let out a chuckle at that, one that slowly petered out into a halfhearted grumble. A sound that made the twins exchange a look of curiosity before Mabel asked: “So what’ve you been doing out here, Grunkle Stan?”

“Wendy said you went outside to the boat,” Dipper explained. “But she didn’t say why.”

Stan looked to Wendy with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, she did, did she?”

“What, was I not allowed to tell your beloved great-niece-and-nephew where their great-uncle had gone?” Wendy asked innocently, and leaned over to place a hand atop each of the twin’s heads. “They were just worried about how you missed breakfast.”

“Yeah, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel added, before her expression fell. “Plus Grunkle Ford was heading down to the basement with Bill, and he said that the two of you were fighting…”

At the mention of Ford, the gruffness in Stan’s expression shifted. “Ford said we were fighting?”

“Nah, Bill did,” Dipper corrected. “Probably to try and get a rise out of us.”

He cast a look beyond Stan over to Mabel. “Which is why Grunkle Ford told us not to listen to anything he says.”

“I’m not listening to him,” Mabel insisted. “Plus, weren’t you were the one who said they seemed really tense in the hallway earlier!”

“All I said was that if Grunkle Stan really needed to punch Bill again, he would’ve done it instead of just punching a wall,” Dipper said, then glanced hesitantly at Stan. “But, uh—is everything okay between you two? You seemed really stressed earlier, and y’know…you didn’t go down with Ford to take care of Bill.”

Stan looked between them, the uncertainty in their features near identical to the faintest hints of concern threatening to peek their way through his own. And with a strained inhale to force it all back down again, he stood up straight and pointed a finger at them. “Ford’s absolutely right, you shouldn’t trust a word outta that jerk’s mouth,” he said. “Whatever’s goin’ on with the two of us, it ain’t any of Bill’s business and it definitely ain’t a fight.”

“But it’s something?” Wendy chimed in.

“It’s somethin’ that ain’t any business a’yours either,” Stan said firmly, giving her a wave of his hand before pointing it back at the younger twins. “And that goes double for you two. Like I told you last night, you’re here to have fun for the summer. Don’t go gettin' yourselves all worked up over all this Bill stuff or the stuff between me and Ford, alright?”

Mabel let her body flump forward until her forehead was gently pressed against the tip of his finger. “But we wanted to have fun over the summer with both you and Grunkle Ford,” she pointed out. “How can we do that if he’s too busy dealing with Bill? Or if you two are fighting?”

His expression softened at this motion and he let his hand fall. “Well, now, I can’t give an answer to that first question—lean back again for a sec, Pumpkin—” 

While she obliged, Stan rotated himself around to lean his back against the stage. “Like I was sayin’, I can’t give an answer to that first one,” he continued, draping one arm around her body. “But as for the second—just because the two of us are buttin’ heads about all of this doesn’t—”

He hesitated for a millisecond, before continuing: “—it doesn’t mean we’re fighting. And it doesn’t mean that the rest of the summer’s gonna be a bust, alright? Just means that we’re gonna have to deal with some rough patches first.”

He turned to Dipper, slinking his other arm around his shoulders. “And as for you, you little knucklehead—you heard Ford earlier; he’s got himself a plan to deal with our little yellow headache down in his lab. And if he needs help, he’ll ask for it!”

“Maybe…” Dipper agreed halfheartedly. “Still, I hate to agree with Bill about anything, but he did have a point about Grunkle Ford’s ideas not exactly being the best ones out there after a full night with no sleep…”

“Ugh, he said that?” Mabel asked with a sneer.

“Yeah,” Dipper said, disgust painting his own expression. “He was practically rubbing it in Ford’s face.”

“Hey, hey, what did I say?” Stan said. “Take your own advice, kid, and don’t believe a word outta that little creep's mouth! You know he’s just tryin’ to get under your skin, so he ain’t worth the time of day.”

With a sense that the fight was going to be paused for a bit, Wendy hopped down from the stage and aimed the shrink ray towards the mermaid tank. “You know, Dr. Pines probably would get rid of Bill much quicker if he had someone helping him down there.”

Stan narrowed his eyes at her. “Hey, come on, don’t you start now.”

“I’m just saying,” Wendy continued, before pressing the shrink button. “I mean, I’m sure he’s got his reasons for going at it alone—

Once the tank was shrunken down, she strolled over to scoop it up off the ground. “—but working together took the little fucker down last time, didn’t it?”

She tilted the small tank forward and let the water—the volume now barely enough to fill a teacup—spill out over the grass. After giving it a few additional shakes for good measure, she spun on her heels back to face the others—

—only to be greeted by mirrored looks of shock on all three of their faces. “...What?”

More surprised blinking followed as they stared at her with mouths agape, before Stan finally slapped a hand to his forehead. “Are you kidding me, Wendy?! I worked so hard not to swear in front of these kids last year and you go and throw all of it out the window in a single, goddamn sentence!”

“I’m just more surprised that you swore at all,” Mabel said. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you swear before!”

“Come to think of it, I actually don’t remember hearing anyone swear around here last summer,” Dipper said thoughtfully. “Which is such an oddly specific thing to…I dunno, not hear? Kids swear all the time at school, Mom and Dad swear at home sometimes—”

“I know you let out a very hearty f-word the other day when you bumped your toe on the coffee table,” Mabel added.

“It was the left pinky, I was completely justified and will not apologize.”

“It is weird!” Wendy agreed, before tucking the mermaid tank into the storage box. “Actually, I got this totally wild story to go with it—one I was trying to tell Stan yesterday before all this dumb Bill stuff started.”

After tucking the flashlight back into her belt loop, she raised her hands for emphasis. “Okay, so you remember how the couch we found in the woods last year was like, mega-infested with rats?”

“Dipper screamed so loud when one tried to crawl up his legs!” Mabel said with a grin.

“Once again; moment of weakness, it could’ve easily happened to anyone.”

“So anyway, Soos, Melody and I managed to get most of ‘em out of the house,” Wendy continued. “But after that, something felt different about the town. Not bad different, just…different.”

“Elaborate,” Stan said.

“Well, there was the time when Nate and Lee got together, and have kinda been having an on-off thing going on since,” she said, and began to tick off her fingers. “Then at some point, one of the Manotaurs decided that she felt more comfortable being called Womanotaur instead—all the boys came together and collectively punched a piece of metal until it was dented into the right shape for a celebratory carabiner—”

“Ooh, ooh, and at another point your dad and Mayor Tyler started dating?” Mabel guessed.

“Yeah, yeah, something like that,” Wendy said, looking mildly annoyed for a second. “Couple of folks also started realizing some things about themselves in a similar way, people started swearing a lot more than they did last year—

She tossed her hands in the air. “—and all of that only started happening after the rats were gone!”

“That sounds like a load of stupid fresh from the stupid factory,” Stan said. “But also I wouldn’t put it past this town to have some weird rats be the source of everyone’s inability to swear or for two men to start mackin’ on each other or something.”

“Everything going alright out here?”

Everyone turned to see Soos and Melody approaching from the shack, clipboards and a large box of party decorations in hand. “We figured Wendy would probably be done with cleanup by now,” Melody explained. “So we thought we’d start bringing out the decorations.”

“Did we give you enough time for amusing and exposition-y conversations that would be stimulating enough to get you through the work quicker?” Soos asked.

“Yeah, yeah, just one sec—” Wendy said, and turned back to the Manotaur stage. “Alright, everybody clear outta the way.”

Mabel’s lower lip stuck out in a pout. “Aww, we’ve gotta finish cleaning up? But we didn’t get to have our fight! Again!”

“Maybe not, but it did distract you long enough to get to the decorating part, right?” Dipper pointed out, and hopped down from the stage. “Wasn’t that the point in the first place?”

“Mmm, I guess,” Mabel said sadly as she hopped down after him. “Still, would’ve been fun to fight Wendy while she’s pretending to be Bill.”

Soos raised an eyebrow at Wendy, who shrugged in response. “We were working out our feelings,” she explained. “But since we’re moving on to the actual decorating part, how’s about we put a pin in that fight for now and work on drowning this place in decorations?”

She raised the flashlight and took aim for the stage. “Also again, step outta the way or you’re gonna get caught in the crossfire.”

Once the three of them had cleared away from the stage, Wendy once again shrank it to a more manageable size. While she stored it away with the other exhibits, Soos reached a hand into the box of decorations. “Like I said earlier, we’ve got just about every color of streamer under the sun! Plus some colors under the moon, too!”

He pulled out a few rolls of streamers and waved it in front of Mabel. “Who wants to toss a bunch of them up onto the roof like they’re TP-ing the Shack, but with color~?”

Despite Mabel’s initial disappointment towards another postponement of the fight, a smile began to creep its way through her features at Soos’ suggestion. “Oh, like you’ve gotta ask~!”

She reached for one of the rolls before casting a look at Stan. “You wanna help us decorate for the party, Grunkle Stan?”

“Nah, I actually came out here for a reason,” he said with a wave of his hand. “Gotta go fetch somethin’ from my office.”

He gave her a thumbs up as he started making his way towards the porch. “You kids have fun, though, and no more stressin’ about all this Bill stuff, okay?” he said, then looked over to Wendy. “Also lemme take a look at that shrink-thing later, Wendy! You could make a fortune with a doo-dad like that!”

“We’re already workshopping names,” Wendy called in return.

A second thumbs up was his response as he headed up the porch steps and disappeared out of sight. Mabel continued to stare at the porch, optimistic expression sinking back into a look of sadness until Soos gave the streamer bag another shake. “Check it out, Mabel! The lady at the store even said she named one of the shades of pinkish-purple after you! She calls it ‘Pink-Mab-urple!”

After staring for a few more seconds, she finally turned to Soos with a grin. “Uh, why didn’t you start with that, Soos? Slap a roll of Pink-Mab-urple in my hand and let’s get this streamer train rolling!”

— — — — — — — —

With all the stress of the past twenty-four hours, Ford had almost forgotten what it was like to feel relaxed.

Granted, he hadn’t felt truly relaxed since his early childhood. But the past nine months up until Bill’s return had been the closest he’d gotten to recapturing that ease of his adolescence.

And for the fleeting moment before the fairy dust made impact with Bill’s face, a surge of anxiety rushed through him as the possibility of the dust losing its potency after decades of disuse reared its ugly head. That by some cruel twist of fate, it simply wouldn’t work against Bill at all.

But within seconds, Bill slumped like a lifeless ragdoll against the chair’s restraints and Ford could physically feel some of the stress melt away from his being.

Not all of it; there was always a chance that the fairy dust hadn’t worked and that Bill was simply pretending to be knocked unconscious. But the sight alone was enough to grant him the smallest sense of comfort.

Still—

He finally pulled out the hand he had slipped into his picket after tossing the dust, a small pocketknife clutched tightly in his grasp. After a few more seconds, he flicked open the main blade and knelt in front of Bill’s body.

He hesitated—hand trembling around the weapon as the temptation to do more than a simple act of research examination bubbled up inside his chest. But with a shake of his head, he reached for one of Bill’s restrained hands and lightly pressed the tip of the knife into his palm.

Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to hurt if he was truly faking his unconscious state. And after a few seconds passed with no vocal complaints from Bill, Ford let out an exhale of relief.

He wasn’t faking. At least there was that fact.

But Ford also knew not to let his guard down completely, nor was he foolish enough to think that the fairy dust’s effects would last forever. He had to move quickly.

Reassured that Bill was properly unconscious, Ford moved to the binds that kept Bill tied to the chair. It was a risk to free Bill completely, but his plan wouldn’t work if the body was still bound by the unicorn spell.

He pressed the blade against one rope and inhaled slowly, before bringing it upwards in a clean cut—

—and quickly backed up as the tiny body slacked to the floor in a crumpled heap.

His grip on the knife tightened as he stepped back out of the circle, as if he still expected Bill to drop his facade and finally take advantage of his chance at freedom. But when the fairy dust continued to prove effective, he returned to Bill's side to cut his wrist binds.

Once Bill was completely unbound from all angles, Ford looked to the puppet he had tossed at his feet. Sure, it had been a five-minute effort but Bill was far from picky when it came to his vessels of choice. And if he suddenly decided to start being picky once he’d reawakened—

—well, too bad, Cipher.

His gaze moved back to the unconscious body again, eyes landing on his face. Naturally he’d written down the research he’d gathered, and he hadn’t been lying to Bill when he said it was to figure out the proper dosage of fairy dust to knock him unconscious. The stuff was powerful enough to put a full-grown unicorn to sleep; too much on a body Bill’s size could potentially have disastrous effects.

And even if Ford’s attempt to contact the body’s original owner had failed, his main concerns still lingered—he still had no way of knowing how harming the physical body would affect Bill himself.

That being said, his quick and simple research had provided Ford with a few interesting discoveries.

As he’d initially hypothesized, every studied part of Bill’s vessel really did scream teenager—or at the very least being on the cusp of teenagerhood. A lack of wisdom teeth pinpointed the body as younger than twenty, and his quick count of almost-thirty teeth settled his guess between the ages of about twelve to fifteen. 

General appearance seemed to back up that fact; limbs were gangly and awkward—even moreso than what would normally be expected from Bill in a human body—those yellow, catlike eyes sat large on his face, larger than they would on the face of an adult—

It was so odd. Of all the vessels to possess, why would Bill choose that of a human teenager? It certainly added credence to the theory that he hadn’t possessed a choice in the matter, but it also added credence to the theory that he had specifically sought out such a body as a way to purposefully mess with Ford and the rest of his family.

Once again, more theories without a clear answer.

With a huff, Ford set the knife near his boot that was furthest away from Bill—putting down his weapon was another risk, but at least he’d had the advantage if he needed to grab it in a hurry—and reached into his pocket again. 

This time his efforts rewarded him with a worn scrap of paper, one he unfolded with both hands and set to the ground in front of him. He might’ve tossed the journals down into the Bottomless Pit, but a proper scientist always had backup options when it came to his research.

…Granted, the backup in question was an old spell he had hidden away during one of those sleep-deprived days between Bill’s betrayal and the portal incident, but it would still prove effective nonetheless. 

Thank goodness he had possessed enough foresight to keep it out of the journals and tucked safely between the edge of his desk and the wall, somewhere Bill had clearly not thought to look during the brief periods when his body had succumbed to sleep.

His gaze narrowed with determination at the body again. Omniscient abilities or not, even Bill Cipher possessed blindspots. A piece of paper tucked between the wall and desk. A lack of knowledge on how to collapse the weirdness barrier that surrounded the town.

An extra finger on a hand where it shouldn’t be, or vice versa.

Shaking his head, Ford turned back to the paper. A wiser man might’ve tried to actually use the spell back when he originally discovered it. But a number of variables—no additional person to read the spell while Bill was in his body, no knowledge on whether or not it would actually work as intended, a general lack of sleep across those several days—had prevented Ford from attempting such a method at the time. And once he’d properly returned home after the portal incident, the metal place in his head had already been installed—rendering such a spell mostly pointless.

Until now.

After scribbling down a few additions, he cleared his throat and began to recite aloud: “Aufero, delego. Amoveo, inflecto—”

He paused, looking to the puppet and body for a moment before continuing with a bit more confidence: “Aufero, delego. Amoveo, inflecto…Expuli Triangulum, Expuli Triangulum, Expuli Triangulum—”

— — — — — — —

Whenever Bill lounged around in the space between the Nightmare Realm and the mortal world, there was always a clear lack of color. 

Whether he was situated inside a dark room, outside over a summoning circle or inside the bedroom closet of an easily-frightened child—always watching, but never seen—the scenery of the mindscape was always draped in a monochromatic curtain of black and white. Here, however—the warm browns of the study had only dulled the slightest amount while still maintaining their general color.

Heck, Bill might not have even noticed the difference at first, had it not been for Ford. Rather than be subjected to more violence at the man’s hand, it was as if time had completely frozen for him. The arm that had tossed the fairy dust into Bill’s face was still outstretched, but remained still and unmoving in the air.

Bill’s mouth curled into a smirk, and he made no effort to resist the urge to stick his tongue out at him. “Hehe, what’s wrong, Fordsy~?” he asked, leaning forward. “Can’t access the mindsca—ACK!”

He leaned forward too far and hit the hard ground with a thud and an irritable yelp, face once again squished against the floor. Unlike the other times he’d fallen throughout the past day, however—his body felt noticeably lighter and chair-free.

Grin widening further, he pulled himself off the ground until he was standing up proper. Once on his feet, he took a step to grow more accustomed to using legs again. One step, then two more—before he simply launched his body up into the air to hover in place.

Oh, how he loved the Mindscape to pieces~! Possessing people was fun and all, but it came with the unfortunate side effect of not being able to use his powers.

Not in the Mindscape, though~! Here he could do just about anything he wanted!

Speaking of which—

He cast another look in the inanimate Ford’s direction, while a wicked grin spread across his face. Sure, any harm caused to his body in the mindscape wouldn’t carry over to the real world. But at the same time, fireball or two to the chin would probably get rid of that stupid beard for a few glorious minutes, right? Perhaps a fireball full of spiders? 

Why not? The past twelve hours had been so frustrating dull for Bill, and he deserved a nice little treat for himself.

He raised his hand into the air with a giddy little laugh, as he waited for the familiar blue flames to blossom from his palm—

—hey, wait.

Bill snapped his attention to what should’ve been a pitch-black hand engulfed in flames. And while the flames had indeed begun to spread out from his palm and up towards his fingertips, the hand itself was still clearly one made of flesh and blood. Just as flesh and blood as the legs he had wobbled on mere seconds ago as he took a few steps. 

Legs that his gaze quickly fell to, realization beginning to take hold of him as his concerns were reaffirmed; black, panted legs attached to a body that was clearly still humanoid.

His hands instinctively moved to touch the opposite arms—as if touching them would somehow transform them back into the twig-thin limbs he was used to having—and then to his chest and stomach—as if touching them would somehow transform him back into his familiar, triangle shape.

When neither attempt bore any results, he blinked a few times in sheer confusion. Okay, so something was clearly wrong. Jumping out of a body into the mindscape should’ve at least reverted his soul back to its usual shape and form. So why was he still stuck in a useless flesh-suit?

He moved his gaze around the study before his attention fell back on Project Mentem, eyes once again locking with one of the unbroken screens. He hadn’t gotten a proper glimpse at his vessel’s face the first time around, but if he was currently situated in the mindscape and able to move freely—

Just before he could make out the shape of his face in the monitor’s reflection, however, the dull colors around it began to distort and—

—well, there was no better term for it than ‘melt’.

Every color in the room—from the warm browns of the nearby shelves and desk, to the dull grays of Ford’s entire being—started to melt towards the floor, leaving behind the usual, monochromatic palette of the Mindscape.

And once all the colors reached the floor, they slowly converged into a muddy blob in the very center of the room. Converge, then shift into a single tint of orange.

Or if Bill wanted to get specific with it—tangerine.

Oh. 

Great.

Sure enough, the blob of tangerine began to twist and morph into a clear silhouette of the shelduck, a loud, giddy laugh echoing through the study even before their beak had fully taken form. “Wow, it looks like someone’s had a busy first day, huh?” they said, placing their hands on their hips once both appeared. “Not even back in town for a full twenty-four hours and they’ve already brought you down to the study for research.”

Bill’s eyebrows furrowed in their direction. Oh, contract or not, he was going to pluck every single one of their feathers out with the Multiverse’s rustiest pair of tweezers once this was all over!

For the time being, he simply folded his arms across his chest with an unimpressed huff. “Yeesh, took you long enough to get your butt down here, Birdbrain!” he said irritably. “Do you know what kinda day I’ve ha—oh, actually, you just said you did, didn’t you?”

He tossed his hands in the air. “Well, if you could see what kinda day I was having, why haven’t you stepped in yet? Thought you were all about helping people in need or whatever?”

He made a casual gesture in Ford’s direction. “Well, I’ve sure needed some help getting away from him!”

Tangy held up their own hands with a guilty smile. “Okay, okay, I realize you have some concerns,” they said. “I don’t blame you, you’ve been through a lot in a short amount of time.”

One hand went to their forehead. “And admittedly, I’m mostly here because I realized I forgot to tell you a few things!”

“Oh, gee, you think?” Bill said, moving the gesture towards himself. “How about you start with explaining why you kept the fact that you’d be sticking me in a vessel like this a secret? Or why I’m still a pile of meat, bones and nerves in the mindscape instead of my usual form?”

“You—wait…”

They lowered their hand to give him a perplexed tilt of their head. “You mean you haven’t figured out what’s happening yet?”

“I mean, I figured out that you think you’re clever,” Bill said with a roll of his eyes. “Sticking me in a vessel this small for your dumb game, all without telling me ahead of time? That’s real cute, Birdbrain.”

A shrug, one accompanied by a smirk. “Hehe, what, did my short jokes bother you that bad?”

“No, they didn’t, but—”

“Aufero, delego. Amoveo, inflecto—”

The sound of Ford’s voice echoing through the mindscape turned both their attention to the ceiling, the imaginary mindscape shaking and rattling around them as he continued: “Expuli Triangulum, Expuli Triangulum, Expuli Triangulum!”

Bill’s brow furrowed at the sound, attention moving back to the still-inanimate Ford. So that was Sixer’s big plan, huh? To try his hand at a transfer spell while the vessel was unconscious?

That sneaky jerk, always trying to go behind his back—

“Oh, so, he’s trying that, huh?”

And back his attention and furrowed brow went to Tangy. Speaking of jerks, the feathered jerk needed to stop stealing his lines and get to their jerk point already! “You said you had something to tell me,” he said, hovering closer to them. “So hurry up and spill the beans before Sixer succeeds in doing whatever he’s doing out there!”

“Aufero, delego. Amoveo, inflecto—”

“Quickly, Birdbrain, we don’t have all day!”

Tangy looked to the ceiling again. “Yeah, I dunno if I’ll actually have the time to cover everything at this rate,” they said, and held up a finger. “But he won’t succeed in getting you outta that body, if that’s what you’re worried about!”

“Expuli Triangulum, Expuli Triangulum, Expuli Triangulum!”

Between the chanting from Ford and the crypticness from Tangy, Bill could physically feel his face reddening with anger. “Birdbrain, if you don’t explain right now—”

“Sorry, don’t have time!” they said quickly. “But I promise that this won’t be the last time we chat, and I can cover everything else the next time we do! Plus there’s always the thing on your wrist—”

“Wait, the what—”

There was a flash of light before all the color that had congregated to make Tangy’s form sank back into the floor and slowly started returning to the rest of the room.

And as the last little bits of brown and grays situated themselves back into place, Bill’s hovering body hit the floor again with a hard thud.

His eyes snapped closed on impact, then snapped open again with a shout.

— — — — — — —

“—aufero, delego. Amoveo, inflecto…Expuli Triangulum, Expuli Triangulum, Expuli Triangulum!”

With a final recital of the spell, Ford leaned back with another shuddery exhale of relief. Whether his attempt to shift Bill from one vessel to the other proved successful or not, the spell still required a few minutes of waiting for the end result.

While he waited, he let his gaze move once again to the unconscious child’s forehead. It had given him pause upon observation; not for any research purposes, but for the birthmark that waited beneath that mop of blonde hair—

“AAH!”

Ford jumped at the sound of a yell echoing through his study, the surprise of Bill suddenly moving again causing him to stumble backwards and trip over—and sever—the rope circle he had created on the floor.

Leaving a few inches of empty space between the ends of the rope.

Bill’s eyes were wide as dinner plates as he snapped back to consciousness, his screams of surprise petering out into sharp inhales of breath while he jerked up into a sitting position.

And with a final, shuddery exhale to ground himself—Yeesh, this body was weird. Who was in charge of designing a pile of flesh who needed oxygen, but not too much oxygen at once, to live?—his gaze locked to a still-floored Ford.

He stared, Ford stared back.

His functional pupil flitted down to the severed circle—

“Cipher, don’t you DARE!”

And Bill took off like a flash in the direction of the emergency exit staircase.

Ford was after him in seconds—rope and knife in hand—and the heavy thud of his boots against the medal stairs rung throughout the study over Bill’s maniacal cackling as he hurried for the cellar door.

Perhaps leaving fairy dust in a bag for over thirty years hadn’t been the best idea after all.

— — — — — — —

“Okay, so party preparations for today…” 

Melody tapped her clipboard with the end of her pen, before turning to Mabel at her left. “We’ve got Mabel on the streamers—”

Mabel held up the rolls in her hands with a look of pride. “By the time I’m done, you’ll be fishing them out of the gutters for years!”

“Please don’t actually give me that much more work to do,” Wendy said from her right.

“...You’ll be fishing them out of the gutters for years in theory,” Mabel corrected herself. “In actuality, I’ll be cleaning them up myself so Wendy doesn’t have to!”

While Wendy gave her a thumbs up, Melody looked to her list again. “And we’ve got Dipper on balloon duty—”

Dipper shifted the countless packs of balloons in his embrace to one arm so he could give her a salute. “There won’t be a single bare table, chair, or loose area where a balloon can easily be tied to when I’m done with this place!”

“Just be careful not to tie too many to the shack itself,” Soos chimed in. “Otherwise they could, like, carry it up and away in the air!”

He made a series of floating motions with his hand. “You know like…WOOSH! Just floating all the way up into the sky!”

“Soos, you realize that’s probably impossible, right?” Dipper pointed out. “Do you know how many balloons we’d need to be able to rip through the foundation alone? They’d lose their helium way faster than I could inflate the necessary amount—”

“Poke!”

“Hey!”

While Dipper slapped his now-freed hand to his cheek where Mabel had poked him, she waved her arms around in a playful fashion. “Ooh, look at me, I’m Dipper~!” she teased. “I’ve seen gnomes, giant Manotaurs and dream demons, but balloons lifting up a house is impossible~!”

She leaned over to poke her again, and he nudged her back in amused retaliation. “Hey, come on, those things are actually real,” he pointed out with a chuckle. “I’m not saying I wouldn’t believe in a floating balloon house if it was right in front of me, but you know…it’s gotta prove itself possible first.”

“Balloons and the possibility of discovering something new,” Melody said, pressing a finger to her clipboard. “Check! Alright, what’s next?”

“I think we’ll wanna get the tables set up as soon as possible,” Soos chimed in. “I know we’ve still got hours until the party, but we’ve still gotta get all the food ready, right?”

He made a walking motion with his hand. “And who wants to make a buncha food, then carry a buncha tables outside—and then have to go back and carry out that same buncha food from before all in one go?” A shrug. “Just saying, babe, it’d be smart to get the tables out first, then focus on covering them with the food!”

“Makes perfect sense to me,” Melody said, tucking her clipboard under her arm. “I’ll help you get the first one out here if you want.”

She flashed the others a smile. “Wendy, do you want to help us with tables or stay out here and decorate with the twins?”

“Hey, I’ll take tossing up balloons and streamers over having to carry whole tables back and forth,” Wendy said.

Dipper looked up at her with a raised eyebrow. “...Don’t you have a shrink ray—oh, you’re not mentioning it just so you don’t get stuck carrying tables, aren’t you?”

“Sure am.”

“Have fun, dudes!" Soos called to them, as the two of them made their way to the porch. "Make this place look like a party threw up from spending too much time at another party!”

“You got it, Soos!” Mabel said with a salute. “Like I said earlier: by the time I’m done with this place, you’ll be fishing old streamers out of the gutters for years!”

A pause, before she added as an afterthought: “...Again, I mean that metaphorically, and not in the way that will give Wendy more work!”

With a laugh, Wendy gave her a light nudge as the adults disappeared inside the house. Once they were out of sight, she turned her attention towards the yard before them. “Alright, so what side should we get to decorating first?”

BANG!

A loud clattering of the nearby cellar doors caused everyone to jump in surprise, right before Bill came barrelling out of the darkness with a shrill laugh—

“GET BACK HERE!”

—while the sound of Ford’s voice thundered after him from the cellar.

Bill skidded to a stop in the dirt, taking a brief second to catch his breath until he looked over to where the kids stood.

They stared, he stared back—

“Quick, somebody grab him!” Ford’s voice yelled from the cellar, seconds before he himself appeared in the doorway.

—and Bill spun on his heels before sprinting towards the nearby wood.

Despite their initial shock, Wendy was quick to the draw with the shrink ray. Rather than shoot a beam at Bill, however, she aimed it towards something in the line of his path—a small rock that suddenly quintupled in size in a matter of seconds.

So few seconds that Bill didn’t have enough time to slow to a halt before his face and body slammed against the rock, the impact knocking him off his already-wobbly feet and bringing him down to the dirt with a thud.

His escape attempt was momentarily forgotten as he pressed a hand to his injured nose, before casting a bitter glare in Wendy’s direction. “Oh, that’s real mature, Red!” he called. “I suppose your next trick involves painting a tunnel on the side?”

“Haha!” Mabel said delightedly. “Nice one, Wendy!”

“Yeah, I’m really liking this thing,” Wendy said, with a small twirl of the flashlight.

“Did you hear me?!” Ford said sharply—probably sharper than intended—as he stepped out into the yard. “Someone catch him before he gets to the woods!”

“Oh, right—”

As Bill sprung back to his feet and took off in another direction, the rest of the group rushed after him in a frantic hurry. And despite the burning sensation in Bill’s lungs, he was cackling with wicked delight at the others’ misfortune as he rounded the side of the shack near the porch—

“Gotcha!”

—right before a large hand snagged the back of his jacket and yanked him backwards.

Despite Bill’s desperate attempts to struggle free, Stan’s grip remained strong as he hoisted him up in the air. “Nice try, pal.”

If Bill could feel his face reddening in anger within the Mindscape, the sensation was tenfold in the real world as he glared daggers at Stan. “Put me down!”

“Not happening, Pyramid Face.”

Ford came into view around the corner, a heavy sigh of relief escaping his chest as he drew closer. “Nice catch, Stanley…”

“Maybe to you, it is!” Bill protested, with a pointed glare at Stan. “Thought you were busy pouting on the boat, or whatever.”

“And I thought you were busy dyin’, or whatever,” Stan shot back, before looking back to Ford again. “Need to tie him up, or—”

“Right, right,” Ford said, unfurling the rope he’d snagged from the study. “Hold him out?”

While Stan extended him out to Ford—the sight of Bill’s body dangling as he struggled to break free reminiscent of a scruffed kitten—the kids also rounded the side of the house in a rush. At the sight of Stan holding Bill, they too slowed to a stop with looks of both relief and mild confusion. 

Confusion that Mabel finally vocalized with a: “What’s going on?”

“Aside from the obvious escape attempt on Bill’s end?” Dipper asked.

Despite his struggles, Bill couldn’t help but let out a mocking laugh at Dipper's remark. “Aww, look who has eyes and a brain that can string together two coherent thoughts. You’re really movin’ up in the world, aren’tcha, Pine Tree—hey, hey! I felt that, Stanford!”

He shot a sour look at Ford, who had already started the process of rewrapping the rope around his body to restrain him. Restraint with clear intent on Ford’s end to be as uncomfortable for Bill as possible. And at Bill’s confrontation, Ford locked eyes with him and pulled the ends even tighter with an insincere: “Oops.”

While he moved to loop them again—and while Bill continued to try and struggle free—Stan raised an eyebrow. “Gonna guess whatever you were tryin’ down there didn’t work?”

“Oh, no, it worked perfectly~!” Bill replied in Ford’s place. “Clearly I’m now stuck in one of Sixer’s badly-made arts and crafts and—actually, I don’t exactly know what he planned on doing with me after that, so I can’t spin some dramatic yarn about it, but the point is that it obviously worked~!”

He gave Stan a cutesy bat of his eyelashes, which quickly fell into a flat look. “Asking questions like that is why you’re the dumber, sweatier twin. You realize this, right?”

Despite Stan’s fists tightening around Bill’s jacket in one hand and the stack of papers in the other, he kept his reply limited to an enraged stare that could’ve burned through a sheet of metal. From the side where the rest of the group stood, however, Mabel’s features lit up with intrigue as she took a cautious step closer. “Did he say arts and crafts project?”

“Pay him no mind, Mabel,” Ford instructed, as he fiddled with the rope further. “As I told you earlier, nothing he says is worth taking into account.”

Despite another tight yank of the ropes against his chest, Bill managed a disapproving tut. “Wooooow, Sixer, and here I was being open and honest to them about our exciting adventures down in the study,” he scolded. “I realize that the concept of honestly and openness is completely foreign to you, but there’s no time like the present to learn—ACK!”

Ford’s next rope tug forced a strangled gasp out of Bill’s chest that even he couldn’t mask with a snarky comment, and one that earned an uncomfortable wince from Dipper. “Grunkle Ford, I know he’s being a massive jerk and would probably deserve it, but you might suffocate him if you’re not careful.”

“Also what were you doing down in the study, Doc?” Wendy added, taking a step forward as well. “If you tell us, then he doesn’t have to, right?”

Despite his discomfort, Bill flashed her a small grin. “Doc? Hey, that’s not a bad one! Might add that one to the ol’ mental rolodex~!”

He tilted his head in Ford’s direction. “And she’s got a point, Fordsy! I mean, you can’t exactly get mad at me for spilling the beans when you aren’t willing to go and do it yourself, right!” he pointed out with a cackle. “Once again, we know you’re not exactly the expert at being honest with people, but I repeat my previous sentiments of ‘no time like the present to learn’!” 

He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Or I guess it’s the best time for you mortals to learn, since you’re lacking one of those nifty little time dispensers or any sort of ultimate power like yours truly. But you get the idea!”

With a slow, shuddery exhale, Ford slackened his grip on the rope and reached around to loosen his previous loops. “Fine, Wendy—” he said, with strong emphasis on her name. “I suppose filling everyone in on the details wouldn’t cause any harm now.”

“Subtle,” Bill remarked, with an attempt—a failed attempt—to pull his arms free once the ropes were looser. “Also I bet you wish you hadn’t freed my hands now, huh?”

“As I informed Dipper and Stan earlier,” Ford continued. “I was attempting to move Bill’s soul from one vessel to another. I used fairy dust to knock him out in a second unicorn barrier and tossed a sock puppet into the circle, before I cut the binds that held him to the chair and attempted a transfer spell that would—well, as I said before, move him from one vessel to the other.”

“Fairy dust?” Mabel repeated, perking up further. “Sock puppets?”

“Magical, ain’t it, Shooting Star?” Bill asked. “But as I pointed out before, I’m still stuck in this body and not some badly-made puppet that Sixer put together in five minutes. So it was all for nothing~!”

His smile faltered as he glared back at Ford. “By the way, a transfer spell? That was your big, secret plan?” he asked with a scoff. “It’s so juvenile, I’m almost offended at your laziness. Props to you for finding one in the first place, though—didn’t realize you had one on hand! Too bad it didn’t work!”

“Woooow, and here I thought you were completely serious when you said it worked earlier,” Stan said, tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Of course you would, Goldfish,” Bill shot back with a smug grin. “Like I said; dumber and sweatier~! Not just pretty words tossed at you by your childhood bullies!”

Stan’s shoulders tensed further as Ford finally tied the rope off with a sturdy knot. “That should do it,” he said, then made a beckoning motion with his hand. “Alright, you can pass him over to me now.”

Stan stared at the hand, then down at Bill—earning another one of those toothy smiles of his; having a mouth really was a detriment to everyone but himself—before turning his gaze fully back to Ford.

Ford’s gaze was locked on him in return, any words he would’ve preferred to say silenced by the presence of Bill. Not just his presence but that of the kids, of Wendy—perhaps even by the presence of Stanley himself. An apology for earlier events lingering at the back of his throat, desperate to push itself out into the open, desperate to reach Stanley’s ears—

An apology almost identical to the one that Stan couldn’t bring himself to vocalize, the sheer vulnerability of such an action forcing him to avert his eyes from Ford to the kids, to Wendy, and finally to—

“No, no, don’t mind me,” Bill piped up. “If you two feel like fighting again, be my guests! And this time, you don’t even have a hallway to go out and fight in, so I get a front-row seat, baby~!”

Stan glowered at him before finally passing him off to Ford with a huff, one that allowed him a chance to push of that vulnerability back again. 

Most of it, at least. “So, uh—that plan of yours,” he began slowly. “It really didn’t work, then?—don’t you say a word, Cipher!”

He directed that last part at Bill, who simply grinned in response as Ford shook his head. “No, unfortunately it didn’t work. As Bill is so keen on reminding us, his soul remained inside his current vessel even after the transfer attempt.”

He held up a finger. “However, that doesn’t mean I’m out of ideas. If anything, I did learn a few interesting things that might allow me to try a method I initially rejected.”

“Oh, because of the whole—” Dipper began, before his gaze shifted to Bill again. “You know, the stuff we talked about earlier—”

“Precisely,” Ford replied before Bill could get a word in. “While my initial theory wasn’t proven wrong by the failed attempt, it did prove that—”

He paused and returned his attention to Bill for a moment, who gave another cutesy bat of his eyelashes. “Well, Sixer, we’re waiting~?”

“Oh, for the love of—” Wendy started, then continued forward until she’d joined the adults proper. “Turn him towards me for a sec.”

With a confused look from all of them—Bill included—Ford obliged and held Bill out further in front of him. Once she was at a safe angle, Wendy leaned over and slapped a hand over each of his ears, earning a very irritable “Oh, COME ON—” from him for her efforts. “Would’ve covered his mouth too, but I’m not looking for another rabies shot,” Wendy explained. “Plus he seems like the kinda guy who’s going to yell and whine about me doing this, and it’ll muffle anything you have to say.”

“I’ll bet you mortals think you’re SO advanced for possessing external ear lobes!” Bill yelled, whipping his head back and forth. “Well, the joke’s on you! If I were in my usual form, I wouldn’t possess such a horrible evolutionary flaw! In fact, I’ll probably just get rid of ears altogether once I’m outta this stupid body—”

“Wow, smart call,” Dipper said.

Despite Bill’s best efforts to shake her off, Wendy’s hands remained firm against his head as she raised an eyebrow at Ford. “Alright, you wanted to say something?”

Ford blinked a few times in surprise, but cleared his throat with his free hand before responding: “As I was saying and as I told Stan and Dipper this morning, I was originally hesitant to cause any lethal harm to Bill’s current vessel, due to—well—”

“The fact that he looks like Dipper?” Mabel asked.

“Oh, so you guys saw that too, huh?” Wendy asked with a grimace.

“We’ve seen it, acknowledged it—” Dipper added quickly. “But the main issue outside of that was that Grunkle Ford didn’t know if killing Bill’s vessel would actually kill Bill himself, since he’s a mind demon and stuff.”

“I had those concerns,” Ford continued. “But the failed transfer attempt proved a few things to me that I did not know at the time of those assumptions. I don’t have a lot of time to get into everything right now since, well—”

He gestured to the still-deafened Bill, who shot him a dirty look. “I know you’re talking about me! You think I don’t know your ‘showing off something as you talk about it’ gesture?”

“My point is—while the transfer failed, it taught me one important thing,” Ford said, while Bill droned on in anger. “While it’d still be dangerous to outright try killing Bill, he is unable to be pulled out of his current vessel.”

“...Meaning—?” Stan asked.

“Meaning that if he’s unable to be forcibly pulled out of his current vessel, there’s a high chance he also cannot leave of his own accord,” Ford explained. “Meaning he’s stuck. And if he’s stuck, there’s at least one specific thing we can try to get him out of our hair for the time being.”

“What is it?” Mabel asked.

“I’m going to take him down to the bunker and place him in one of the cryogenic chambers.”

“You’re gonna freeze him?” Wendy asked, then paused. “Woah, woah, time out—you had the idea to freeze him this whole time and you spent this long not doing that?”

“Well, to be fair, the process has only ever been used on the supernatural,” Ford explained. “I have no idea what kind of effect it’ll have on a human body, and the last thing I wanted to do is actually cause harm beyond repair to Bill’s vessel, for previously-explained reasons. But since my attempts to either contact the previous host or expunge him from the vessel were failures, it seems like a safe enough method to try next.”

“Hello?! Did we forget I was here?!”

Bill continued to shake his head about in an attempt to free his ears from Wendy’s hands, and Ford gave a nod to her to pull them back. “Anyway, what I told you is the current plan,” he said, while she obliged. “It shouldn’t take me too long to complete, and I should be back within an hour or so.”

“What, you’re going to the—” Dipper’s gaze bounced over to Bill for a split second “—the place we just talked about by yourself?”

“Oh, great recovery, Pine Tree,” Bill said. “By the way, it’s cute how you think that someone who’s been around the block as much as me doesn’t know how to read lips.”

He flashed the group a wide grin. “So if you guys wanna prattle on about how Sixer’s going to take me down to the bunker to pop me into one of those freezy-tubes like I were a pack of Mustelid Sticks, then by all means~!”

At the sight of their eyebrows shooting up their foreheads in surprise, Bill cackled in delight. “Wait, did I seriously get it right the first time?”

And as they attempted to settle their features back into more neutral expressions, he let out another elated cackle that rocked his entire body. “Haha, wow, I can’t believe that bluff actually worked!” he taunted. “I mean, it was my third guess, after ‘ultra-powerful vacuum’ and ‘fishing around inside my vessel’s ear with the soul-equivalent of those garbage-grabbing hooks’, but man, you guys gotta get better poker faces!”

“Yeah, well, so what if you’re right?” Mabel added, folding her arms across her chest. “What’re you gonna do about it to stop us from locking you up?”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something~!” Bill said with a grin. “The universe does seem to have me in its favor when it comes to last-minute rescues~!”

He waggled his eyebrows at the group. “Do you get it? Because you jerks tried to kill me and I—hey!”

His smug look melted into annoyance as Ford gave his body a warning shake. “Don’t you worry about him, kids,” Ford said to the others. “No matter what he says, it’ll only be a matter of time before he’s out of our hair for good.”

“Going back to what Mabel was saying, though,” Stan said. “You’re really gonna handle this all by yourself?”

“Yeah, don’t you need someone to, like, push the buttons in the security room?” Wendy asked, then added as an afterthought: “I figure since he guessed the plan, we can talk about it freely now.”

“Hey, yeah!” Dipper agreed. “There’s no way you’ll be able to do the code all by yourself, especially not with Bill in your hands!”

“Once again, very hurtful that people are talking about me like I’m not even here,” Bill said with feigned offense. “But the peanut gallery raises a good point. Pretty sure that unless you’ve gained the ability to grow another pair of arms—not that you’d tell me if you did, I guess—you’ll be squished flatter than—well, me~!”

A pause, before he flashed Ford a grin. “And while imitation’s the sincerest form of flattery and I highly suggest you try it, I’d rather not be involved in said imitation attempt myself. You know what I mean?”

Rather than respond, Ford pressed his free hand to his chin. “I suppose the security room does provide me with an issue I hadn’t previously considered…”

Stan’s features lit up with a spark of inspiration, and his grip once again tightened around the stack of papers in his hand. “Hey, you know, if the cat’s outta the bag on that bunker plan,” he said, and began to flip through them with one hand. “I might have somethin’ that—”

“No, Stanley.”

It was said too quickly, far too quickly for either of their liking. And Stan’s thumbing through the papers was halted with a deflated look, one that earned a remorseful expression from Ford in return. “I—I appreciate you catching Bill for me, but I can handle this myself,” he said quickly, regaining his composure. “I’ll…simply deactivate the security room before I bring Bill through. It might add some extra time to my bunker venture, but it would make for an easy and safe transfer to the main lab area.”

“But I—”

“Yeah, so why don’t you do what I told you to do earlier, Goldfish,” Bill chimed in. “And run along and let the adults handle things here?”

Red once again flooded Stan’s vision, the stack of papers dropped to the ground beside him as he bared both fists in a surge of anger. “Oh, you wanna see how an adult handles things, you little—”

He grit his teeth together as his vision shifted between Ford and the kids, before he exhaled as much anger as he could possibly expel in one breath and scooped the papers back up off the ground with a halfhearted “Forget it.” before storming off towards the Stan-O-War-II.

Ford opened his mouth the slightest amount to object, to call him back, to say something—

“Yeesh, the temper on that guy,” Bill spoke up with a laugh. “No wonder you avoided him for so long, I’d go nuts having to deal with that all the time!”

—and his grip tightened on Bill before he turned to the nearby wood. “As I said before, it shouldn’t take me more than a few hours at most to disable the security system,” he called back to the kids. “Once it’s done, Bill will be out of our hair for the time being.”

“If it works,” Bill added with a laugh. “I mean, your silly little transfer spell didn’t work, so who’s to say—hey, hey, quit shaking me!”

Bill narrowed his eyes at Ford, who returned it with another shake of his body as he stepped from the yard into the forest underbrush—

“Grunkle Ford, wait!”

—and spun back around at the sound of Mabel’s voice, dirt crunching beneath her shoes as she hurried towards him. “I know Soos asked you earlier and you didn’t respond,” she said. “But…do you think you’ll be done with the security room in time for the party?”

“Yeesh, Shooting Star,” Bill piped up. “You’re all in the presence of greatness here, and all you can think about is some silly party?”

A laugh. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate you focusing on yourselves over anything else. You Pineses don’t do enough of that anymore. But c’mon, I’m dyin’ over here!”

He flashed Ford a grin, one far more teeth than actual amusement. “Although I guess that’s the goal here, isn’t it, Sixer?”

“I…don’t have an answer to that question, Mabel,” Ford replied to Mabel. “While I have confidence in my own skill to deactivate the security room without issue, there’s always a chance that things could go astray in the process. If all goes according to plan, I should at least make it back for the tail end of things. If it doesn’t—”

“If it doesn’t, too bad!” Bill interrupted gleefully. “No party for Sixer~!”

This time, Ford didn’t even bother to acknowledge him as he turned and continued onwards into the woods. Mabel didn’t budge from her spot, keeping her eyes locked on Ford's back until both of them disappeared from sight between the trees.

“Well, I still don’t know if him and Stan actually fighting or not,” Wendy chimed up from behind her. “But either way, that could’ve gone way better.”

“No kidding,” Dipper added. “And I know this goes without saying, but Bill wasn’t exactly making things any easier.”

“You’d think dying would’ve taught him how to shut up a little bit,” Wendy agreed with a huff. “Bet you anything Stan was a second away from swinging on him again.”

“A bet I’d never take because you’d win it easy.”

Mabel kept her attention on the woods for a few more seconds, her entire posture sinking as she finally turned back to face them. “And now Grunkle Ford’s gonna be at the bunker all day, doing secret bunker stuff all by himself,” she said sadly. “He might not even make it back in time for the party tonight…”

She reached over to grab one of her sweater sleeves with one hand. “Guess that’s not the most important thing right now, though, huh? Guess it’s getting rid of Bill first…”

Dipper crossed his arms with a sigh. “He never did tell us how he was going to handle that alone,” he pointed out, with his own unsure look towards the forest. “I mean, I know he said he’s gonna deactivate the security room. But how’s he going to get into the bunker at all?”

“Hey, yeah,” Wendy said thoughtfully. “Wouldn’t he need to climb up and reach the lever? How’s he going to do that when he’s gotta keep a hand on Bill?”

Realization painted both Dipper and Mabel’s features at the same time, and their gazes immediately snapped to each other. “Grunkle Ford isn’t letting Stan help him—” Dipper began.

“—but he didn’t say we couldn’t come help,” Mabel finished knowingly.

“And even if he said he could handle the Bill stuff by himself, he never said anything about getting help with the bunker stuff,” Wendy added with a wink.

“Plus, he’ll probably need at least one other person to watch Bill so he can focus on the security room!” Dipper said thoughtfully, a grin spreading across his face. “I know it’s not technically a loophole dodge, but I mean…how’s he supposed to focus on dismantling a dangerous security system if he’s got to keep one eye on Bill?”

“And keeping that eye on Bill for someone else will probably be super easy if he’s tied up,” Mabel agreed. “I mean, all he can do right now is talk, right? And it’s not like we’re not gonna listen to anything he says!”

“Sounds to me like we’re all in agreement on this ‘go and help that stubborn old man out’ train,” Wendy said. “So you two gonna get a move on towards the bunker, or what?”

“Oh, should we both go?” Dipper asked, directing the question at her, then Mabel. “I think one of us would be more than enough, right?”

“One should be good,” Mabel said with a nod. “And we can always keep in touch with our cell phones, right?”

“Signal might be hit or miss underground, but it’s not like I can’t just step out and guard the exit as I text,” Dipper agreed.

“Yeah, y—wait, you?” Mabel tilted her head in confusion. “You wanted to go?”

“Oh, was that not—” Dipper began. “Did you want to go instead? I thought you’d want to stay and decorate for the party?”

“Yeah, plus we have no idea if Dr. Pines will actually be finished by the time the party starts,” Wendy added. “Are you sayin’ you’d be willing to miss a party of this size, Mabel?”

“Eh, there’s always gonna be other parties,” Mabel insisted. “Plus, I trust you two to follow Soos’ vision of ‘making this place look like a party threw up from spending too much time at another party.’”

She looked towards the woods again. “Plus, I…I said I wanted to spend some time with Dr. Grunkle Ford, right? What better way to do that then to help him with all this Bill stuff?”

She pressed a hand to her mouth with a giggle. “Oops, I mean…all this bunker stuff.”

“Fair point, fair point,” Dipper agreed with a nod. “Alright, then you go help Ford, and keep me posted on what’s happening! And I’ll snap as many pics as I can of the party for you, just so you don’t feel too left out.”

“You’re the best, Bro-Bro~!” Mabel said, smile widening as she looked between them. “Alright, I’d better get going then, huh?”

“Good luck, Mabel!” Wendy said, and flashed her a thumbs up. “And be sure to drop a couple of swears at the little triangle bastard in my honor.”

“Ooh, yeah!” Mabel said excitedly, then pressed a hand to her chin. “Uh…which ones should I use?”

“Whatever one you want, so long as I don’t get in trouble for it.”

Mabel thought for a second. “Bill’s a…dumbass?”

Wendy slapped a hand to her mouth to try and bite back a laugh. “Good try, but maybe put a little bit more oomph behind it? C’mon, say it with your whole chest!”

“Bill’s a dumbass!” she tried again with more confidence.

“Yeah, atta girl!” Wendy said, pumping a fist into the air. 

Dipper let out a laugh of delight, pressing a hand to his own mouth. “He really is a dumbass, huh?”

“The biggest one!” Mabel said, clapping her hands together. “Dumbass triangle!”

“Alright, alright, let’s spread ‘em out a bit, huh?” Wendy suggested. “Swears are fine and good, but you use too many of them at once and they lose their punch.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” Mabel said with a nod. “Better save them for when I get to the bunker, huh?”

With a laugh, Wendy gave her a two-finger salute, one accompanied by a thumbs up from Dipper. And after a confusing attempt to mirror both at the same time, Mabel bounded off through the underbrush in the direction where Ford had gone.

The two of them watched her go in silence, before Wendy looked down to Dipper. “So, you wanna get started on those streamers while we toss out a couple more swears about the little jerk?”

“Like you’ve gotta ask,” Dipper said, before they turned back towards the Shack. “I know for a fact I’ve got a couple of those hearty f-words saved up just for him.”

[free-for-all-fics]

Obscure Characters List - Male Edition

Obscure Characters I love for some reason. (By obscure I mean characters that have little to no fanfic written about them. Not necessarily characters nobody’s ever heard of.) Don’t ask me to explain why.

A

Abraham Alastor/Anthony Clarke (Dark Pictures Little Hope)

Adam (Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter)

Adam (Hallmark Frankenstein 2004)

Al Capone (Night at the Museum)

Alan McMichael (Crimson Peak)

Alec Fell (Nancy Drew, The Silent Spy)

AM (I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream)

Amphibian Man/The Asset (Shape of Water)

Anthony Walsh (Blood Fest)

Anton Herzen (Professor Layton and the Diabolical Box)

Ardeth Bay (Mummy series)

Armand (Queen of the Damned 2002)

Armando Salazar (Pirates of the Caribbean 5)

B

Barnaby (Sabrina Down Under)

Baron Humbert von Gikkingen (The Cat Returns)

Baron Meinster (Brides of Dracula)

Beast/Hank McCoy (X-Men, Kelsey Grammer version)

Beast/Prince (Beauty and the Beast 2014)

Ben Willis (I Know What You Did Last Summer)

Bernard the elf (Santa Clause series)

Black Phillip (The VVitch)

Blade (Puppetmaster series)

Bughuul (Sinister 1 and 2)

C

Caliban/John Clare (Penny Dreadful)

Captain Frederick Wentworth (Persuasion)

Captain James Hook (Peter Pan 2003)

Cedric Brown (Nanny McPhee)

Christian Thompson (Devil Wears Prada)

Colonel William Tavington (The Patriot)

Cornelis Sandvoort (Tulip Fever)

Crown Prince Ryand'r/Darkfire (DC comics/Teen Titans)

D

Daniel Le Domas (Ready Or Not)

Death (Final Destination series)

Dimitri Allen (Professor Layton and the Unwound Future)

Dimitri Denatos (Mom’s Got a Date With a Vampire)

Dustfinger (Inkheart)

Dr. Alexander Sweet/Dracula (Penny Dreadful)

Dr. Gregory Butler (Happy Death Day 1 & 2)

Dr. Manhattan (Watchmen)

Driller Killer (Slumber Party Massacre 2)

E

Edward Gracey (Haunted Mansion 2003) 

Edward Mordrake (Urban Legend/American Horror Story Asylum)

Edward/Eddie “Tex” Sawyer (Texas Chainsaw Massacre 3)

Elemer of the Briar (Elden Ring)

Erik Carriere (Phantom of the Opera 1990)

Ethan (Pilgrim 2019)

F

Father Gascoigne (Bloodborne)

Faustus Blackwood (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)

Fegan Floop (Spy Kids trilogy)

Fox Mask/Tom (You’re next)

G

George Knightley (Emma)

Ghost/Mitch (Haunt 2019)

Godskin Apostle (Elden Ring)

Godwyn the Golden (Elden Ring)

Gold Watchers (Dark Deception)

Greg (Bodies, Bodies, Bodies)

Grim Matchstick (Cuphead)

Gurranq Beast Clergyman (Elden Ring)

H

Henry Jekyll/Edward Hyde (Broadway, Rob Evan version)

Henry Sturges (Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter)

Hugh Crain (Haunting of Hill House, the book and 1963 film. Not the Flanagan show or 1999 movie remake)

Hugo Butterly (Nancy Drew, Danger by Design)

I

Ingemar (Midsommar)

J

Jack Ferriman (Ghost Ship)

Jack Worthing/Uncle Jack (We Happy Few)

Jafar (Once Upon a Time, not the Wonderland spin-off)

Jan Valek (John Carpenter’s Vampires)

Jefferson "Seaplane" McDonough/Alex (Jumanji 2 and 3)

Jervis Tetch/Mad Hatter (Arkhamverse! Video Games)

Jester (Puppetmaster series)

John (He’s Out There)

Joseph “Joey” Mallone (Blackwell series)

Juan (The Forever Purge)

Juno Hoslow, Knight of Blood (Elden Ring)

K

Kalabar (Halloweentown)

Kenneth Haight (Elden Ring)

Killer Moth/Drury Walker (Teen Titans)

King Paimon (Hereditary)

L

Lamb Mask/Craig (You’re next)

Lamplighter (The Boys)

Launder Man (Crypt TV)

Lawrence “Larry” Gordon (Saw series)

Loki (Apsulov: End of Gods)

Lucifer (Devil’s Carnival 1 & 2)

M

Magic Mirror (Snow White 1937/Shrek)

Man in the Mask (The Strangers)

Manon (The Craft)

Man-Thing (Marvel’s Werewolf By Night)

Marco Polo/Merman (Crypt TV)

Marcus Corvinus (Underworld series)

Markus Boehm (Nancy Drew, the Captive Curse)

Mephistopheles (Faust’s Albtraum)

Micolash, Host of the Nightmare (Bloodborne)

Miquella (Elden Ring)

Mirror Man (Snow White and the Huntsman)

Mr. Crow/Aldous Vanderboom (Rusty Lake series)

Mr. Le Bail (Ready Or Not)

Mr. Slausen (Tourist Trap)

N

Nigel Billingsley (Jumanji 2 and 3)

Night’s Cavalry (Elden Ring)

Nothing (The Night House)

P

Pazuzu (The Exorcist)

Pierre Despereaux (Psych)

Prince Anton Voytek (Vampire 1974)

Prince Escalus (Romeo and Juliet, no particular adaptation)

Prince Quartus (Stardust)

Prince Septimus (Stardust)

Professor Petrie/Phantom of the Opera (Phantom of the Opera 1962)

Peter Quint (Turn of the Screw, the book and maybe some other adaptations. Not the Bly Manor Flanagan show.)

R

Reese Kelly (Scarlet Hollow)

Rene Belloq (Indiana Jones, Raiders of the Lost Ark)

Roland Voight (Hellraiser 2022)

Ronin (Star Trek)

Rorschach (Watchmen)

Rupert Giles (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

Rusty Nail (Joyride trilogy)

S

Salem Saberhagen (Sabrina the Teenage Witch)

Sam Wayne (Scarlet Hollow)

Silver Surfer/Norrin Radd (Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer)

Simon Jarrett (SOMA)

Sir Lancelot (Night at the Museum 3)

Sportacus (LazyTown)

Starscourge Radahn (Elden Ring)

STEM (Upgrade)

Sutter Cane (In the Mouth of Madness)

T

Thantos DuBaer (Twitches 1 and 2)

The Auditor (Hellraiser: Judgment)

The Babadook (The Babadook)

The Black Knight Ghost (Scooby Doo 2 Monsters Unleashed)

The Curator (Dark Pictures Anthology)

The Designer (Devil’s Carnival 2)

The Djinn/Nathaniel Demerest/Professor Joel Barash/Steven Verdel (Wishmaster series)

The Faun (Pan’s Labyrinth)

The Fox (The Little Prince 1974)

The Jester (The Jester, A Short Horror Film series)

The Kinderfänger (Crypt TV)

The Knight/Tarhos Kovács (Dead by Daylight)

The Look-See (Crypt TV)

The Man (Carnival of Souls)

The Merman (Cabin In The Woods)

The Metal Killer (Stage Fright 2014)

The Mirror (Oculus)

The Narrator (Stanley Parable)

The Other (Hellfest)

The Phantom (Phantom Manor)

The Projectionist (Pearl)

The T-1000/Cop (Terminator 2, Terminator Genisys)

The Tall Man/The Entity (It Follows)

The Thing (The Thing 1982)

The Torn Prince/Royce Clayton (Thirteen Ghosts remake)

The Torso/James “Jimmy” Gambino (Thirteen Ghosts remake)

Thomas Alexander “Alex” Upton (TAU)

Tiger Mask/Dave (You’re Next)

Tommy Ross (Carrie, 1976)

V

Valak (The Conjuring)

Valdack and his real world counterpart (Black Mirror)

Van Pelt (Jumanji 2)

Venable (Wrong Turn 2021)

Viktor (Underworld series)

Viktor Frankenstein/Dr. Whale (Once Upon a Time)

Vladislaus Dracula (Van Helsing 2004)

W

Wade Thornton (Nancy Drew, Ghost of Thornton Hall)

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

Westley/Dread Pirate Roberts (The Princess Bride)

Wildwind/Dark Skull, Stormy Weathers, and Lightning Strikes (Scooby Doo and the Legend of the Vampire)

“William”/The Headless Figure (Crypt TV)

William "Billy" Butcherson (Hocus Pocus 1 and 2)

X

Xenan the Centaur (Xena Warrior Princess)

[hellshire-harlot]

So I just had a crazy but completely coherent dream about the Puppetmaster episode from ATLA and how it was remade for the Live-Action series. I’m gonna write down what I can remember from it before I forget.

The episode was called ‘Arachne’. It started with the gang (mostly Katara) raiding some kind of noble Fire Nation palace for supplies and valuables. They didn’t hurt anyone there, but they did intentionally taunt them and go out of their way to legitimately scare them. Katara even pretended to be a ghost and terrorized an old woman, and showed no remorse after the fact.

After that, the gang winds up near another, more remote village. It’s the night of the full moon and they witness borderline Conjuring shit happen in the village at night, and with no idea what the fuck is happening, they ran off and took shelter in the building they recognized as an Inn.

Upon meeting Hama, who startles the gang so bad that Katara instinctively waterbends and has to consciously tamp it down, Katara becomes almost enamored with her. Hama tells her privately that she knows Katara is a waterbender because she felt the water around her shift. Being a Southern Waterbender, Katara grows even fonder of Hama, and begins seeing her almost as a surrogate mother figure.

The next thing I remember is a fast-forward straight to the climax of the episode. It was here that Hama finally revealed how she’d escaped her prison:

In the initial slaughter, Hama had actually managed to escape with a handful of other Southern Waterbenders. Together they helped their village rebuild and witnessed firsthand the atrocities left behind by the Fire Nation- nothing in detail, but I do remember Hama comforting a hysterical woman who was implied to have been raped.

Following this event, Hama (a teenager at the time) joined with the remaining Waterbenders in the tribe to train and form a strike team. The Fire Nation had taken their prisoners to a dedicated permanent prison a few days away from the tribe, with cells build into the ground and so much ambient light/heat that the snow and ice around the complex melted over a mile away. Hama and the surviving Waterbenders trained to storm the prison and not just free their friends and family, but explicitly kill as many Fire Nation soldiers as they possibly could.

In the end, the strike team failed, and the members who weren’t killed were immediately placed into maximum security. Hama among the most vicious, she was placed in her own separate cell while most others were anywhere from 3-7 to a single cell. She was constantly chained, and the wardens often broke her limbs as a precaution to keep her from waterbending. They chained her to a wall to give her water every 1.5 days or so. The isolation from her people and the constant abuse drove her borderline insane.

She remained there for years, always taking every opportunity to try and escape. There were no rats for her to experiment on, and so when she was moved into a cell that had a grate separating her from her fellows (a reward for good behavior), she told her people about her idea. They were unsure but desperate enough to consider it. In the end, Hama was given permission from a few of her fellow prisoners to practice Bloodbending on them in lieu of rats.

It took years of careful planning but Hama was able to lure a guard into her cell by tangling her chains. He came in to untangle them and she bloodbent him ruthlessly. Her fellow prisoners cheered and watched in awe. She had him subdued already, but she drew out his suffering for the hell of it as a form of revenge. She ultimately forced him to snap his own neck.

She took the keys from his body and made a deep cut on his throat. From this cut she waterbent the blood and moisture out of his body completely. She gave some of it to her fellow prisoners but kept the rest. It was too risky to stage a full prison break; Hama had to go alone.

She killed as many guards as she could find, making sure they suffered, and stole a boat. She sailed to the Fire Islands to continue her work after an epiphany. She felt no remorse for her actions- the Fire Nation had done much worse, and what she did, she did to survive and make a step towards liberating her people. But she wanted to take the fight to the source.

Hama, now a young woman, landed on a rural island and got to work ingratiating herself amongst the residents. Some were either current or former soldiers, some had a hand in the genocides, but many of the people were simple peasants. They had very little say in what happened internationally and were more concerned with going about their lives. Every full moon, she bloodbent at least one villager and forced them to kill themself. She disposed of the bodies in a cave system beneath the local mountain- it wasn’t screaming Toph felt under the mountain. It was heaps and heaps of bones.

Hama eventually killed every soldier or official in the village. She was well aware that the civilians she killed had little to nothing to do with her plight, but she didn’t care. She felt completely justified in her actions because in her eyes, she was still fighting for survival.

In the end, the gang (minus Katara, who was training with Hama under the full moon) confronted Hama with a few unsent artifacts from her home. She’d meant to send them back to the Southern Tribe, but never did. They were essentially trophies she’d taken from her kills. Katara watches Hama bloodbend the gang in unbridled horror. They finally get Hama to confess to her crimes and ultimately, Katara bloodbends her into the village square and lets the people do with her what they will. Nothing was shown but I think she was killed.

Katara swore off bloodbending entirely, horrified by Hama’s actions. Toph collapsed the caves beneath the mountain and erected a monument above it, giving the bodies there a proper burial and memorial. The whole message of the episode was not to let righteous anger spread into unbridled bloodlust- Hama was never vilified for what she did in the prison, and it was framed as an act of survival and triumph at great personal cost. Her killings in the village, both of people ‘deserving’ of death and not, WAS explicitly vilified. She tried to play judge, jury, and executioner, let her rage and pain blind her, and killed a lot of innocent people because of it. Ultimately, she died for it. When Katara used bloodbending on the man she thought killed her mother in the Southern Raiders episode, it went into depth about her internal conflict. Katara had sworn off bloodbending completely and told herself she could never become like Hama, but she very nearly just did because of her anger. Sure, the man was probably as much a murderer as any Fire Nation soldier, but he wasn’t the target of her anger. In her eyes, she’d committed the ultimate crime upon a bystander. Suddenly she realized how it was foolish to say she’d never be like Hama, because had the circumstances of her life been even a little different in a few key ways, she already would be.

[primelight]

Concerning Seluvis (and Pidia)

Ok, I completely understand where the ‘Pidia is the puppet master’ theory came from (Vaati, alternate interpretations of lore etc.). However, all the evidence in favor of that is circumstantial, AND can be countered.

1. We already know that puppets can be given (or loaned) to someone who isn’t the original creator. After all, the player can get a few.

2. The Raya Lucaria soldier puppets are being used to guard the rooftops of Caria Manor. Pidia is a servant of Caria Manor, and looks to be the only sane Albinauric sorcerer left. It makes sense for him to tasked to use the puppets to protect the Manor.

3. This also explains why he says ‘You!’ when you first come down the ladder; he saw you on the rooftops.

4. There’s no law that there can’t be two perverted dolly-botherers. And Pidia is absolutely a perverted dolly-botherer.

5. You can hear the soldier puppets kill him after you find Seluvis’ body. If we’re talking ‘real’ puppet master, that’s an interesting coincidence.

6. Yes, he has the map to the amber starlight shard. However, he runs a storeroom. It makes sense that there’d be old, forgotten things in there.

7. From a meta perspective, you, the player, are just browsing the shelves when you buy stuff from Pidia.

8. Gideon has beef with Seluvis. It’s clearly mutual. Seluvis chose Nepheli, Gideon’s adopted daughter, as his target for the puppetizing potion. Why would Pidia, an Albinauric sorcerer with no apparent connection to the Roundtable Hold, order something like that?

9. Puppetry is specifically called out as a Night Sorcery/Nox thing. Carians in general are connected to the night, and the stars. Seluvis was one of Ranni’s father’s Preceptors, and a master sorceror. Seluvis’ bell bearing indicates a clear visual connection to Carian and/or Night sorcery....and that’s an entirely different post, stay tuned.

11. We’ve seen a non-summoned remote-controlled puppet in action: Finger Maiden Therolina. She shows up at the Radahn festival, and is utterly silent. She bows and...that’s it. You can buy her from Seluvis, too, or get her as a free puppet. And you see her in his chambers, so, yeah, she’s a puppet. And Seluvis himself has an awful lot of personality for a remote-controlled doll, doesn’t he? So...I speculate that he isn’t.

12. The biggest one IMHO is that Ranni knows that Seluvis puts you up to giving her the amber starlight draught. Either she is...spectacularly stupid, or Seluvis is the puppetmaster. And she knows it.

And, finally...Seluvis’ puppet body...This is a stretch, sure, but there are a few explanations:

13. We already know that sorcerers can body-surf. Sellen does it, using a body that Seluvis made. Jerren himself says, when he finds her ‘dead,’ that she’s doubtlessly got another body stashed somewhere. We help her upload her consciousness with that primal glintstone.

14. The merchant note on ‘the Preceptor’s Secret’ claims that Sellen visits (of visited) him quite frequently. Circumstantial, but it is not out of the question that they were both in on her backup plan. Why wouldn’t he have a backup plan?

15. ...He was totally being a pervy dolly-botherer with her new, empty body though.

16. So one explanation is that he somehow ditched his body for another. Or shut it down for future use. But we’ll never get that proven one way or another.

17. Another explanation is that Ranni made him drink one of his potions. He gets puppetized after you give her the fingerslayer blade....so he’s outlived his usefulness to her. And since she absolutely did know what he was up to, maybe she thought it was time for some justice?

Anyway...This is also all circumstantial. We’ll likely never get a confirmation of any of this. I think you can run with either theory...Fanfic fuel either way!

(Image credit to Fextralife for Sellen)

[lillikoifish]

Katara cried for a lot of reasons at the end of the puppetmaster, beyond becoming a bloodbender i think. She finally gets to connect with another southern waterbender, and it turns out theyre a monster hunting innocent people at night and torturing them for some sick catharsis. It would break my heart too.

[dude1818]

The Devil and the Dark Water

I finished The Devil and the Dark Water by Stuart Turton (same author as The 7½ Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle). Also technically a supernatural mystery novel, but this time a full pastiche of Sherlock Holmes, and whether the supernatural aspects are real or not is part of the mystery. This one wasn't really my kind of thing, but it was still an interesting enough story.

The main protagonist of the novel is Lieutenant Hayes, the Watson to investigator Pipps's Holmes. The setting is on board an East India Company ship headed back to Amsterdam in the 1630s. The twist is that Pipps was arrested right before they set sail, so Hayes has to solve the mystery pretty much without him. The governor general's wife is also investigating the mystery with some of the other women, and partners with Hayes instead.

The mystery? Ship's hella damned. From the moment they start boarding and a tongueless leper curses the ship and bursts into flame, to mysterious lights following them at night, the animals mysteriously slaughtered, and finally a good old-fashioned locked room murder. It all connects to the devil from Hayes's childhood, which makes it pretty obvious that it's the kind of myth that people hype up to excuse their own evil deeds towards each other. Except in the decades since and especially on the ship, so much more unexplainable terrors happen, and it ties together a lot of the characters' backstories, so you can't be confidant this isn't a setting where the devil is real.

It does all get resolved in the end, of course. It was very satisfying watching Hayes and the others work through the mystery as everything goes to shit around them, and the characters were all very enjoyable to watch in action. For a story set in the 1630s in the style of Sherlock Holmes, most of the protagonists act incredibly modern, which I can't say is a bad thing. Certainly not one of my favorite books, but perfectly enjoyable.

Until the very final twist. Spoilers for literally everything, including who's behind it all:

It was Pipps. He had himself thrown in the brig so that he could puppetmaster everything that happened, and no one would expect him to be around to help solve the mystery. This is obviously a betrayal in the eyes of Hayes, but it was also one step beyond plausibility that it almost felt like the narrative was betraying the reader. Even that I would've gotten over if he got his comeuppance in the end (and Hayes was certainly ready to kill him when he found out). But even though his plan to terrorize and murder the evil governor general was justified, his actions led to the deaths of hundreds of sailors and soldiers on this ship and likely more across the other ships in the fleet that were ravaged. But then they let that all slide in the comic book standard of "mooks don't count," and that pissed me off.

[sapphirerubycreates]

Septictober Day 21: Forced to Watch/Possession

Part of my Missed Messages AU

Content warning: nightmares, descriptions of death, stabbing, knives, possession

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was always the same every night. Nightmares that hopefully weren’t premonitions and then staying awake on two hours of sleep and passing out to do it all over again. Same nightmare every time. Captured. In that room again. With his brother. Being held back by his captors. Forced to watch as they killed him. Burned alive. Stabbed to death. Drowned. And he could never look away.

But tonight, one month into this torture, it was finally different. He broke free and rushed over to his brother. Electrocuted everyone in the room except for Marvin. Grabbed him and hugged him so tight. Even let himself cry at this relief. Finally being able to hold him– to save him.

But then his blood ran cold. His arm... it was moving on its own. He opened his eyes, but couldn’t turn his head.

Watched it hover over the table. Tried to scream when it grasped the handle. Attempted to move something– anything!– to get away from this situation.

Saw the glint as it rose above their heads.

...

And felt the tip of it, piercing him from Marvin’s chest.

He let go of his brother but kept hold of the knife. Stepped backwards, making him see that face. That face Marvin made when he was dying. Only, it wasn’t that same face. It was worse. He was crying. They were crying. And more than anything, Anti wanted to scream and call out like those thousand times before.

But his limbs weren’t his anymore. His voice not allowed to speak. And he was forced to watch his brother drown in his own blood.

By his own hands.

A smile was forced upon his face, his puppetmaster admiring their handiwork.

When he woke up, Anti looked down at his hands. And when he could be sure they were his, he bent his head down into them. And wept. Cried until the tears were dry, his throat all too scratchy, and he wasn’t making any more sound. And still he cried.

And once that was all done, he made a vow. He made two. No one would ever control him ever again. He would never hurt his brother ever again. If he ever got to see him again.

[starryserenade]

Myth and Magic Ch. 11: Puppetmaster

Fic Description: When Tir Na nÓg--the fabled land of the fae--falls to a dark power, the destinies of two young mice are set in motion. As each struggle to make their way in an ever-darkening world, they must learn to trust one another, or risk forever losing that which they hold most dear.

Chapter Description: Oswald continues down an ever-darkening path

Links:

AO3

Prologue

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter: Coming Soon

~~~

Gentle moonlight graced the earth in milky light and a soft-footed figure made her way through its midst. She swept along, humming lightly all the while, her thick tail brushing against the leaves at her feet as it swayed in rhythmic time. When a breeze rustled through the forest, she twirled mindlessly along with it and the hood of her cloak slipped from her head to her shoulders. Silky black fur met the silver of the moon, and when she paused to savor the beauty of the night, her amber eyes sparkled as brilliantly as the stars she gazed upon.

She drew in a breath then narrowed her eyes and, with a smirk, fixed her stare on a particularly shadowy patch of canopy. 

“Nice try, hunny bun…I know you’re there.”

There was a light chuckle and a rustling of leaves, and then Oswald leapt down in front of her, bits of twig and foliage scattered all about his fur. “Awww, you couldn’t have at least pretended to be surprised?”

The girl, small ears twitching, giggled, and flicked his nose. “I’ve got to keep you on your toes! You’re getting sloppy!”

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, then smirked right back. “Is that right?” 

In a moment, he had swept her off her feet and with a beat of his wings, taken to the sky. She squealed and clung to him, though he could see the smile on her face only widen. When they’d risen just above the treeline, he picked a sturdy branch upon the tallest oak and landed upon it, taking a seat in the place where the branch met the trunk. The girl in his arms was laughing and gasping for air at the same time, her once-neat fur now disheveled and windblown as she leaned against him.

“Was that sloppy, too?” the rabbit that held her chuckled.

“No…” she gasped through giggles, tears of laughter streaming from her eyes. “No, I think…I think that one was just right.”

“Great! Now, Grand Judge Ortensia…” She was still laughing, and he blushed at the joy painted across her face. “What’s my prize?”

Gradually, she came to recover her composure, though she still had to stifle a giggle every other second or so. “Take a guess!”

He feigned thoughtfulness for a moment. “Hmmm…is it a…crown?”

“No.”

“A bag of gold?”

“No…”

“A magical jewel?”

“No, you silly bunny!” she laughed, making a face as she lightly punched his arm.

He echoed her humor, and chuckled along. Then, looking deeply into her eyes, he softened his voice and put a gentle hand to her chin. “How about this?” he breathed, and then drew her in for a kiss.

She melted the moment his lips met hers. The drifting clouds had long since changed places by the time they finally pulled away, both blushing profusely as they held each other's gaze. 

“That…hm…that was it all right,” Ortensia stammered at last, and seemed surprised by her own scattered words. 

“I’d take that over my other guesses any day.”

Ortensia smiled at that, then sighed and snuggled into his chest when a light breeze swept through the trees.  Sensing she was cold, Oswald brought a wing around her to shield her from the chill and ran his fingers through the fur along her neck. She hummed contentedly, and drew her tail beneath the safety of his feathers.

“I wish you could stay with me every night,” she murmured. Her heartbeat thrummed gently against Oswald’s skin, and he thought his own might beat out of his chest.

“Mmm…someday,” he replied, his voice slurred by pleasureful drowsiness. “When I’m king, things’ll be different.  I’ll turn things back around. Your people won’t have to be scared of us anymore, and I’ll remind the fae of what they used to be. We’ll never have to be apart again.”

“You make it sound so simple,” Ortensia breathed. “But everyone is still so frightened of your fairies… they’ve been causing so much trouble lately…”

“They don’t mean to.” Oswald fiddled with the ring of his finger, the perfect match to the one on Ortensia’s own hand. “But father…he’s got them all convinced it's better to drown out their sorrows in careless revelry than to face them head on. They're blind to what they’re doing, Tensie.”

“Even so,” A shooting star streaked across the night, and she glanced up at it past Oswald’s feathers. “I fear for what will happen if this goes any longer. It’s all our king can do to keep the people from hunting down the fae. His daughter may sympathize for them now, but she’s young. If she grows to despise them…Oswald, your people won’t be safe. You won’t be safe.”

“I know,” was all he said at first, his tall ears drooping. His grip on her tightened, as if he was scared she might fall. “I’m…I’m doing my best.”

Ortensia let out a light puff of air then cradled Oswald’s cheek in her palm, eyes softening. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not been easy.”

“You can say that again. Father won’t listen to reason. And then there’s Mickey…”

The cat’s ears perked up and she squeezed Oswald’s hand, concern written across her eyes. “Is he all right?” 

“My dad still acts like he doesn’t exist,” he replied bitterly, and his nose wrinkled in disgust. “Mickey’s too young to know why. He doesn’t understand, but…it’s hurting him more and more. And his magic is so strong, even now. I’m worried what he might do once he gets older. It’s all I can do to try to keep his hope alive.”

“He’s got a kind heart…he’ll be okay.”

Oswald clicked his tongue, and sighed. “I hope so. Sometimes I feel like this is all over my head. Like there’s more to it all than I know.”

After a few moments of silence, Ortensia opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again and bit her lip.

“What is it?” 

“Er…nothing,” she stammered, somewhat nervously.  Before he could argue, she let out a loud yawn, complete with a tiny little squeal at its peak, and nuzzled into Oswald’s neck. “Enough dreary talk for tonight.”

“But what were you going t-”

“It can wait,” she murmured, then slid her fingers to the snaps of his tunic and began undoing each one until she could slip a hand through to his heart. With a scarlet flush of his cheeks, Oswald grinned softly, and shifted so she could rest her head on his chest.

~~

The scene vanished in a whisper of mist, scattered by Oswald’s hand as he dragged it through the apparition.  Branches became snow-ridden stone, and peaceful silence transformed into the clattering sound of horses’ hooves and creaking wheels. He frowned, sliding the orb he held beneath his cloak and glancing over the edge of the tower he’d commandeered (which had been easy, seeing as there’d been no one there to guard it). 

In the courtyard below, the prison carriage he’d been following finally rolled in, and from it were dragged the two figures for which he’d come. Guilt was something he’d gotten good at suppressing, but he flinched when he saw Mickey’s state. He’d not meant for it to get so bad, but there wasn’t much he could do without ruining everything. The mouse would just have to hold on a bit longer. 

Silently, Oswald drifted to the ground and transformed into something a bit more inconspicuous. A little rat would hardly be noticed, he thought with a bit of a smirk. After all, one was already king.

He followed them into the throne room without notice, tucked himself away in a corner where he couldn’t be seen, and listened intently. As usual, Mortimer was cruel and manipulative, and while Oswald cared very little for the girl called Minnie, he was surprised when she so quickly backed down from her own self-preservation when Mickey’s life was placed on the line. He had assumed her affections to be little more than a careless fling, but the desperation in her voice when the blade was held to Mickey’s throat… even Oswald found the bare truth of that sound hard to refute. 

When the two were sent to the dungeons, Oswald lingered to see if Mortimer happened to share anything else of interest. After all, his plan hinged on what the mortal king decided to do. At first, Mortimer did nothing worth paying attention to. He grumbled to himself a bit about a spot of mud on his robe, and then rang for his servant.

The duck that approached the throne room was disheveled to say the least. She looked like she had been running, and her feathers were all ruffled and out of place. Immediately, Oswald recognized her–she was the one who had accompanied the princess to Tir na Nog. She should have returned here without a single memory of that encounter…but Oswald didn’t trust that she was all she claimed to be. Too much was amiss and out of place for her to be blinked or spell-ridden like the rest of the people. And if she did remember, then without a doubt, she would have a plan to free her friend. Still…this could work in his favor.

Of course, Mortimer was far too into himself to notice any of this. “Daisy, go get a wardrobe ready for that Minnie girl. I want her looking like someone almost suited to be my queen for the banquet tomorrow night.”

Oswald thought he saw a grimace, but then the duck curtsied. “As you wish,” she replied coldly, and when she set off, Oswald followed closely behind. He tarried outside the room she entered, hiding behind a curtain hanging from the hallway’s window just outside. For half the night, she rushed in and out, sometimes carrying a heavy load of silky fabric and others, mortal beauty supplies Oswald could never have put a name to. On her last trip, she carried a tray of food and drink that looked nothing like anything kept within the walls of the castle. The duck, though visibly drowsy, took a moment to look carefully about her before taking it inside. 

Oswald’s suspicions were confirmed. If she was avoiding palace food, she knew more than she was letting on. He waited until she had exited the room once again, and managed to scurry through the doorway before she closed it behind her. This would be his key to getting to Minnie. 

Alone, he transformed back and shook the tingle of magic from his fur and feathers, grateful to be rid of the itch the facade had brought him. He took in a deep breath and looked around him. The room was mostly empty, aside from all the things Daisy had brought in to prepare for Minnie’s inevitable arrival. Most were all the typical things a person of well-standing might need to prepare for a banquet–dresses and tiaras and all sorts of jewels. But there were other, smaller things, too, that he was certain held no real purpose. Like a bouquet of white clovers, tied with a dainty pink bow, or a silver bracelet with a dangling blue jewel. And on the tray, tiny little dairy cakes with honey drizzled over the top. All trinkets that served only to be someone’s favorite things–the heartfelt gifts of a true friend.

He was loathe to taint the presents, but he had no choice.  He moved to the tray and took the orb from his cloak. Power swirled within it, fueled by the stolen memories it held. He’d missed some when it came to that little princess, its influence shattered when she’d fallen from the ruins to the lake on that fateful day. But here and now, that was helpful. Where there were gaps in her mind, he could fill them in with ‘memories’ of his own design.

With a wave of his hand over the decadent treats, he muttered the twisted words of a spell, and let out a breath as the power flowed through him. A breeze rushed through the room, and then it was done. He straightened his posture, blinked, and lowered his hand. 

The window in this room was barred, but the gentle light of dawn still managed to slip through. With it came the sound of footsteps in the hall outside, and Oswald flinched. He’d not expected anyone to return until much later in the day. Under normal circumstances, he would have simply shifted into something small and fluttered outside without a second thought. But that was the problem with his limited reserve of magic–it was limited. That spell had taken quite a bit out of him, and there was still another, more secretive enchantment, he had to uphold.

He crossed his fingers that the guests were not any who could recall his face, and used the little bit of magic he could spare to hide his wings and transform his attire into something a bit more palacelike.

When he heard the footsteps just outside, he beat them to the door. There was no hiding now, and he’d found that confidence was key to convincing people of many untrue things. So Oswald swung open the door with a grin, and greeted the two visitors with a bow.

He had to resist a sigh of relief. It was only Minnie, escorted by that foolish captain of the guard. 

Pete seemed taken aback at first, and scowled at Oswald as the rabbit rose from the bow.  “Who are you?” he grunted, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. 

“Ah, just another humble servant of the king,” Oswald replied in a far too elegant tone. “His Majesty’s maid asked me to finish preparations for the prin–er–prisoner.”

Minnie looked at him with a bit of surprise when he fumbled over his words, and he knew she’d caught his mistake. Even so, she remained silent as Pete thought this over and, apparently finding it a good enough excuse, finally waved his hands dismissively. “Damn king never tells me anything…” he grumbled, and took the door in his hands. “Keep ‘er out o’ trouble, y’hear?” he growled loudly, shoving the mouse into the room before he slammed the door behind him. 

Minnie nearly fell, kept from saving her balance by her chains. But if only out of instinct, Oswald managed to reach out and catch her, then gently helped her to her feet. She shook her head, stunned at first, then looked up at him with wide-eyed curiosity.

“You…” she breathed, and for a moment Oswald worried that maybe she had retained more of her memories than he thought. “You’re not like the others, are you?” 

Someone else had said that to him once. Long, long ago. But he shook his head and chuckled, pushing the memory from his mind. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I heard what you started to say. You know who I am, don’t you? You know I’m the princess.” 

Oswald drew in a deep breath. This conversation could play right into his hands…or it could loose his grip on everything entirely. He needed to be careful.

“It’s okay,” Minnie spoke softly, spotting his hesitation. “No one has shown me any sort of kindness here. But just now…I have a feeling everyone else in this palace would have let me fall. You didn’t. I know you can’t be one of them.”

She was smiling, and Oswald felt a war beginning to rage within him. When she had come to Tír na nÓg, things had been different. She’d been ready to fight him from the very moment they met, and he her. But now? The trust in her voice and the gentleness of her words; they reminded him of someone else. 

Ortensia…

What would she think of him now? Of all he’d done to try to bring her back, and all the hearts he’d broken along the way? For the first time, he found himself wondering…

Is it worth it?

Of course. Of course it was. Of course she was. He was in too deep now, there was no backing down.

“You’re right,” he responded to Minnie at last. “I’ve…I’ve come to warn you.”

The mouse’s grin faltered. “Oh…” she laughed quietly, voice shaking. “Well, you might be a bit late for that. “After tonight, there won’t be much more they can take away from me.”

“You don’t understand,” Oswald hissed with mock desperation, and he hated every lie that escaped his lips. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? You’re being played. Your whole kingdom is in danger.”

Minnie’s eyes narrowed. “What…what do you mean?”

From outside, a rooster crowed, and Oswald knew Daisy would be returning any minute. He was out of time, but he didn’t need much more of it either. 

“Take this,” he whispered, abruptly shoving a small bell into her hands. “The truth will come out eventually and when it does, just ring this bell. I’ll know when you do, and I’ll come explain everything.”

Oswald turned to leave, unlocking the door with a small flicker of magic he hoped she didn’t notice. She ran after him, but the look in her eye told him she didn’t dare try to escape. “Wait!” she shouted desperately. “I don’t understand. Who’s trying to use me? Someone other than Mortimer?”

He looked back at her, bitter lies heavy on his tongue. “That mouse you came here with? The one you’re trying so hard to save? He’s not who he says he is.”

Minnie opened her mouth, but the rabbit was gone before she could utter another word, leaving her with nothing more than unanswered questions and lingering seeds of doubt. Oswald sighed as he slipped outside, let his wings return, and took to the skies. There was little more to do now besides wait for those seeds to sprout. Her distrust would grow, and her love for Mickey would falter. How could it not, when she’d soon remember him as the one who’d once stolen her life away?

[plagasitize]

@ischemiac said: ❛ how long has it been since you've slept? ❜

"too long." perhaps her tone is ill-fitting ⸻ spoke with all the displeasure of a all-night study session dragging on into the midday haze, beyond the precipice of exhaustion and into the second wind of invigoration, a temporary boon. she cannot gauge how many hours ( or days ) have passed, as if her metamorphosis into nothing but cargo had transported her not only across oceans but realities into a realm of permanent dusk unable to evolve into dawn. the sun itself has abandoned this rural piece of the world, the overcast sky smothering out all but the fires: those atop wooden torches, the pyres of bodies mangled into iconography, the burning wreckage of cannon fire.

should she stay still too long she is certain her legs will fail her, as if the tide of exhaustion will finally reach her, seizing each ankle with the pain she has managed to stave off ( or worse, the puppetmaster pulling at her limbs, a prisoner not in reinforced steel but the unholy cathedral of flesh and bone ) ⸻ survival, she finds, is exhilarating but the cost is sure to decimate. this is not her life. this is not what she was built for. she lacks the training, the natural talent. irregardless, she is trying her best.

"i'm okay, though," bright-eyed, she smiles because he doesn't ( so stern, she finds, so sad ⸻ how she'd love to pick at the seams of her guardian angel, pluck each feather for his wings until she can say she knows him, until she is more than a thing to be transported, a chess piece moved from one side of the board to the other ), convinced that if they stop she will never find the strength to begin again. "don't worry about me, i'm tougher than i look." birdsong laughter, light and sweet, it is a revelation she was unprepared for: she carries her own weight as if it is all she has ( isn't it? ), an active participant in her own rescue. absence in the sharpshooter eye, the artful dance of a blade, perhaps, but she refuses to have a princess made of her, useless outside her vaunted tower. besides, who has time to sleep? "i'd be lying if i said cannot wait to get back to my own bed."

[fidothefinch]

PuppetMaster??? For the WIP ask game??? O.O (and smeks and hearts <3 <3 <3 )

(smeks and heart and smeks and hearts! <3 <3)

From my notes to myself: "Robin and Batman are following leads on a creepy case, then Robin is suddenly benched without explanation. So Dick naturally sneaks out? and it turns out he's"

(Yes. That is where my notes stop. I'm mad about it too.)

The gist: a mind-controller has been on the loose in Gotham, leaving behind a trail of horribly disfigured bodies. At the time, this was going to be the darkest thing I'd ever written. The Puppet Master takes center stage as our main villain, inspired by a horror short film I saw on YouTube, Alma, (and maybe by the comedy ballet Coppelia, a little.)

It isn't a long WIP yet, but here's a snippet:

A small amount of the tension left Gordon’s face at Robin’s dismissal, (Dick was not bitter about that), and he finally offered a weak smile. “Night, Robin. Get some sleep.”

Dick couldn’t resist offering a toothy grin. “Nocturnal. Don’t need it.” From the look on his face, Gordon did not believe him, but also maybe he was considering it. Nobody knew much about the vigilante duo, after all.

[pegomastaxfromarksurvivalevolved]

remembering that night i literally didn't sleep because i was unable to stop thinking about how i wanted the story and characters of voxine set up and eventually went from "all gods are derived from their domain, thus if you create a domain that could be embodied and manipulated by a god, a god will manifest to do so. this led to the creation of the god of technology and civilization, who would eventually [DATA EXPUNGED], bringing about the downfall of all mankind and curse the young god to be eternally suspended as the thread in the seam holding a torn reality together" to "the first human, an inventor and toymaker, beloved by all, makes a fatal error in an attempt to (unknown), unwittingly causing the extinction of their people." also i know zero people except for my friends who had the great (mis?)fortune of hearing me be insane about it in school last year know what voxine is but just a fun fact for those to whom this makes any sense at all: the puppetmaster and ringmaster predate Dr. Carnation in terms of the concepts themselves. they were originally the first part of a multistage final boss level which manifested both the industrial productivity and entertainment aspects of civilizations progression as being closely tied with the sun and the moon, hence why the ringmaster with the coal furnace was orange and the puppetmaster was dark with lunar color schemes. originally there was going to be a factory level as well as the spectacular sights and carnal (hehe get it??) delights (carnal not sex but visceral. you will die :), and the level concept as it existed at the time was simply referred to as the carnival, as there was no carnation yet. i might end up making that factory level as well?? i think it'll probably be a workshop instead. im feeling autistic i should write up voxine stuff

I love that writing feeling where a story starts going in a very different direction than the one you initially intended, but somehow this new direction actually achieves your desired goals way better than the original plan would have done.

[ofwondersandhares]

''You may not want me around and for what it is worth I get it even though I played no part in my disappearing act, but I will be around should you ever want to talk.'' He wasn't going to say he had been slowly unravelling without him. ( to Sean )

"Talk? About what exactly? The weather, the time of day? Rather I grew an extra toe in the middle of the night?---"

He knew Lupin was still hurting, he could feel his emotions and how they were screaming out for him. "Listen, Lupin, I get that you're hurting, and I believe you, you know. I believe that your disappearing wasn't your fault, really I do, I mean, I'm no stranger to the same sort of circumstance minus someone playing puppetmaster with my head but --"

Sean had swallowed thickly, his slender digits rubbing the back of his head as he looked off to the side, almost as if he was avoiding eye contact. "I just need some space. I need a break, Lupin. We might not be lovers anymore but that shouldn't suggest that I don't want you around. Given that though, you need to let me go, relationship wise, --- lover wise. Your emotions are chaos and I don't think you being close to me is helping that one bit. It isn't that I don't want you around, Lupin, is that right now, you can't be around me."

Finally, Sean had captured Lupin's eyes with his own. "Not until you don't want me anymore. Not until you can honestly say to yourself, we are just friends."

[free-for-all-fics]

Obscure Character List - Male Edition (A-M)

Obscure Characters List - Male Edition

Obscure Characters I love for some reason (A-M). (By obscure I mean characters that have little to no fanfic written about them. Not necessarily characters nobody’s ever heard of.) Don’t ask me to explain why. UPDATED: Tumblr is being a butt about post length or something so I’m splitting up the lists.

A

Abraham Alastor/Anthony Clarke (Dark Pictures Little Hope)

Adam (Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter)

Adam (Hallmark Frankenstein 2004)

Al Capone (Night at the Museum)

Alan McMichael (Crimson Peak)

Alec Fell (Nancy Drew, The Silent Spy)

AM (I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream)

Amphibian Man/The Asset (Shape of Water)

André Toulon (Puppetmaster series)

Anthony Walsh (Blood Fest)

Anton Herzen (Professor Layton and the Diabolical Box)

Ardeth Bay (Mummy series)

Armand (Queen of the Damned 2002)

Armando Salazar (Pirates of the Caribbean 5)

B

Barnaby (Sabrina Down Under)

Baron Humbert von Gikkingen (The Cat Returns)

Baron Meinster (Brides of Dracula)

Beast/Hank McCoy (X-Men, Kelsey Grammer version)

Beast/Prince (Beauty and the Beast 2014)

Ben Willis (I Know What You Did Last Summer)

Bernard the elf (Santa Clause series)

Black Phillip (The VVitch)

Blade (Puppetmaster series)

Bughuul (Sinister 1 and 2)

C

Caliban/John Clare (Penny Dreadful)

Captain Frederick Wentworth (Persuasion)

Captain James Hook (Peter Pan 2003)

Cedric Brown (Nanny McPhee)

Christian Thompson (Devil Wears Prada)

Colonel William Tavington (The Patriot)

Cornelis Sandvoort (Tulip Fever)

Crown Prince Ryand'r/Darkfire (DC comics/Teen Titans)

D

Daniel Le Domas (Ready Or Not)

Death (Final Destination series)

Dimitri Allen (Professor Layton and the Unwound Future)

Dimitri Denatos (Mom’s Got a Date With a Vampire)

Dustfinger (Inkheart)

Dr. Alexander Sweet/Dracula (Penny Dreadful)

Dr. Gregory Butler (Happy Death Day 1 & 2)

Dr. Manhattan (Watchmen)

Driller Killer (Slumber Party Massacre 2)

E

Edward Gracey (Haunted Mansion 2003) 

Edward Mordrake (Urban Legend/American Horror Story Asylum)

Edward/Eddie “Tex” Sawyer (Texas Chainsaw Massacre 3)

Elemer of the Briar (Elden Ring)

Erik Carriere (Phantom of the Opera 1990)

Ethan (Pilgrim 2019)

F

Father Gascoigne (Bloodborne)

Faustus Blackwood (Chilling Adventures of Sabrina)

Fegan Floop (Spy Kids trilogy)

Fox Mask/Tom (You’re next)

G

George Knightley (Emma)

Ghost/Mitch (Haunt 2019)

Godskin Apostle (Elden Ring)

Godwyn the Golden (Elden Ring)

Gold Watchers (Dark Deception)

Greg (Bodies, Bodies, Bodies)

Grim Matchstick (Cuphead)

Gurranq Beast Clergyman (Elden Ring)

H

Henry Jekyll/Edward Hyde (Broadway, Rob Evan version)

Henry Sturges (Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter)

Hugh Crain (Haunting of Hill House, the book and 1963 film. Not the Flanagan show or 1999 movie remake)

Hugo Butterly (Nancy Drew, Danger by Design)

I

Ingemar (Midsommar)

J

Jack Ferriman (Ghost Ship)

Jack Worthing/Uncle Jack (We Happy Few)

Jafar (Once Upon a Time, not the Wonderland spin-off)

Jan Valek (John Carpenter’s Vampires)

Jefferson “Seaplane” McDonough/Alex (Jumanji 2 and 3)

Jervis Tetch/Mad Hatter (Arkhamverse! Video Games)

Jester (Puppetmaster series)

John (He’s Out There)

Joseph “Joey” Mallone (Blackwell series)

Juan (The Forever Purge)

Juno Hoslow, Knight of Blood (Elden Ring)

K

Kalabar (Halloweentown)

Kenneth Haight (Elden Ring)

Killer Moth/Drury Walker (Teen Titans)

King Paimon (Hereditary)

L

Lamb Mask/Craig (You’re next)

Lamplighter (The Boys)

Launder Man (Crypt TV)

Lawrence “Larry” Gordon (Saw series)

Loki (Apsulov: End of Gods)

Lucifer (Devil’s Carnival 1 & 2)

M

Magic Mirror (Snow White 1937/Shrek)

Man in the Mask (The Strangers)

Manon (The Craft)

Man-Thing (Marvel’s Werewolf By Night)

Marco Polo/Merman (Crypt TV)

Marcus Corvinus (Underworld series)

Markus Boehm (Nancy Drew, the Captive Curse)

Mephistopheles (Faust’s Albtraum)

Micolash, Host of the Nightmare (Bloodborne)

Miquella (Elden Ring)

Mirror Man (Snow White and the Huntsman)

Mr. Crow/Aldous Vanderboom (Rusty Lake series)

Mr. Le Bail (Ready Or Not)

Mr. Slausen (Tourist Trap)

[dungeon-apprentice]

Book Titles for Your D&D Bookshop

Players exploring a bookstore, library, or snooping in the shelves of someone's house? Need a quick bit of flavor to describe their findings? Roll as many d10 as you like!

The content of these books is totally up to the individual, of course. Take them as a bit of inspiration if you're put on the spot!

Children's

Francis the Flumph Finds a Friend

Trees of Green, Red Roses Blue

The ABCs of Elvish (or any other language as you prefer!)

The Tower That Struck the Clouds

Collected Fairy Tales of the Sisters Cheer

A Dance of Fairy Dragons

The Tale of the Witchwood

Fair Prince Elim

I Wish, I Wish

Roundleaf and Redbark

Horror/Mystery

Tenth Hell

The Day the Sky Moved Closer

The Puppetmaster

The Bell Signals Death

End of the Road

Drums in the Deep

The Flightless Dark

The Bloodless Dagger

The Shadow Behind the Sun

Trap Door Vampire

Instructional books

Turnips Twenty Ways

Mushrooms: Should You Eat Those, and if Yes, Would It Be Funny?

Field Guide to Cool Rocks

Tinker, Tailor, Cobbler, Smith

Understanding the Pauper's Gambit

Sand, Mud, Ice: Tracking Animals Through the Seasons (with illustrations)

Healing Cuts & Curing Pains

Accords: Music as a Tool for Diplomacy

Angling for Success

Donning and Doffing Armor on Your Own

Magic

Basic Principles of Transmutation

Mirrors, Puddles, and Archways: Gates to the Unknown

Warding Your Home

Magical Properties of Common Herbs

The Perils of Force

Ethical Concerns about Coercive Magic

Cosmology of the Inner Planes

Identifying Enchantments

Magical Venom & Poisons

Cautionary Tales of Magical Experimentation

Non-fiction

The Golden Reign of [ruler]

Tales of the [name of ocean]

Memoir of the Dragonborn

The Road to [famous city]

Visitable Inns, Taverns, & Holes-In-the-Walls of [country]

Exploring the [cardinal direction] Wilds

Conversations with the [people] of [location]

Inventions of [name of person]

A History of Gnomish Cuisine

Fallout of the [descriptor] War

Pardon the lack of specifics here, but I feel that non-fiction titles should be tailored to each individual setting, otherwise they might seem very out of place! See similar entries for the 'Spirituality/Religion' category at the bottom.

Poetry

The Collected Works of Troels F. Treebor

Dark Side of the Stars

The Final Waltz

Featherlight

Hammersong

Impatience of the Hungering Soul

Tell Me No More Stories And I'll Tell You No Lies

Eighty Kinds of Gold

Foundling

The Epic of the Alabaster Queen

Romance

Winter's Night, Summer's Morn

Sleepless Among the Fair Folk

Sweet Little Lies

Fathomless Passion: Captured by the Drow

Fly Me to the Fourth Moon

Perky Peaks

Desperate Measures

Frigid Touches: Melting the Heart of the Ice Maiden

Blessed Curse

Rose Red

Spirituality/Religion

The Moon's Love

Houses of Healing

Temples of [location or divinity]

Night Embrace You

Channeling the Divine

Symbology of [popular deity]

Three Times Are A Sign

A Treatise on Good & Evil

Communion with [deity]

Principles of the [group descriptor] Belief System

[imnotusedtobeingloved]

EQUALLY LUCKY

(PLEASE DON’T REBLOG!)

Warnings: Internal conflict / Mental struggles.

Pairing: Azula x f!Reader

Characters: Azula, Zuko, Izumi.

Requested: Yes!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor the gif. Credit to the owners.

Summary: You get a glimpse into Azula’s life years after Sozin’s Comet, with you by her side.

A/N: This was my first time making an x reader with Azula, so i’m very nervous to post this lol. It got way more angsty than i intended it to be, but i also wanted to try and stay true to Zula’s character to some extent. And i very much hope i did. Thank you for the great request @the-desert-shewolf​ i hope this is what you were looking for.

“Zuzu, you don’t look so good!”

The last Agni Kai. It was a day that was forever branded into your mind. You could still remember the heat of her flames. How her patient, strategic mind slipped into a rash and impulsive demeanor. She’d fataly wounded her own brother. Ready to do the same to Katara, if she hadn’t stopped her. And that was when you’d found her. Chained to a grid on the floor like an animal, crying in despair and spitting fire like a dragon. Nobody dared to go near her for hours. Nobody but you. “You need to stop, Azula,” You’d cried tears of your own as you forcefully hugged her, body winding against yours. Still trying to free herself. Still trying to fight. Still trying to win. “Please... I’m begging you...” Her whimper broke your heart. You were all that she had left.

There were times when not even a heartfelt “I love you,” could save her. Instead it was interpreted as a further manipulation through her mother. The so called ‘Puppetmaster’. She felt so far out of reach.

But not all days were bad. Sometimes Azula remembered. In the bright hours she recalled your supportive actions and words. You always hoped they would give her some kind of strength. And it wasn’t any easier to face those hardships yourself. To love someone who was hurt so very deeply.

“Being damaged doesn’t give you the right to abuse others,”

A lot of people called her crazy. Called you crazy for feeling affection towards the princess. But what were you supposed to do? You couldn’t just ignore them. Or turn them off. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t what you wanted. All you were trying to do was to care for a person you’d known since you were a kid. A childhood friend, teenage crush and an adult lover. Where Zuko had been saved by Iroh, Azula had been saved by you. But it wasn’t quite the same. You'd just been a little kid yourself at the time.

“Are you going to see Azula?” You nodded, smiling at Zuko over your shoulder. The robes of the Fire Lord really suited him. “I am. I want to surprise her with a picnic,” He raised a brow, curiously leaning over the little basket on the table before you. You’d spent hours picking out different kinds of tarts and snacks, trying not to get in the way of the cooks.

It was a perfect summer day. The climate was warm and mild. Your timing couldn’t have been better.

Years had passed since Sozin’s Comet occured. Years full of anxiety and anger. But finally you’d arrived in a part of your life, where things were looking up again. The time spend supporting Zuko as the Fire Lord hadn’t been wasted. Both of you worked together on a daily basis. Especially when it came to his sister. Despite everything she had done, he couldn’t deny that he held a soft spot for her. So it was no wonder that she resided in one of the finest suites of the palace. After being monitored and treated for ages, her mental heatlh finally regained stability.

“She’s lucky to have you, (Y/N),” He said, attempting to steal one of the tarts only to earn a slap on the hand. Grumbling he retreated, watching as you checked the contents again, before closing the lid. “Maybe,” You turned around to face your friend. “But i’d like to think we’re equally lucky,”

Your picnic was set up in the gardens, by the fountain, under the old apple tree.

Her whole life Azula only gained approval from two people. Her father and you. The few moments of empathy she experienced were supported by you. If she had a nightmare late at night, you’d crawl into bed with her. When you reduced the choice between you two to physical affection, Ozai couldn’t keep up with you. The mixed messages her parents gave her as a child were what lead her into misery. But her best friend, someone of the same age, stuck by her.

Eventually you’d won her over. Relationships were rekindled. Needs were met.

And right this moment, you were beyond glad that you had. “There you are, sugarplum,” An involuntary grin spread on your face. You’d been so busy with displaying everything perfectly that you hadn’t heard her come up behind you. “I see you haven’t grown tired of the petnames,” That nickname would truly stick with you for life. She’d once used it mockingly, back when you visited Ember Island. And she did ever since. It was always used with an edge of sarcasm, but never empty of love.

“You wouldn’t have it any other way, would you (Y/N)?” You turned around to her, reaching for one of her hands. Her fingers intwined themselves with yours. “Of course not, Azula,” Pulling her towards your little arrangement, you sat down on the blanket, leaning against the strong stem of the tree and patting the spot beside you.

Since her recovery she’d formed a habit of over-sharing her feelings and often apologizing more than nessecary. Those were new sides that you had to grow accustomed to, but that weren’t unwelcome. Nevertheless you were relieved that she also kept some of her wit. She knew she could be free with you. Didn’t need to fear any jugdement. Some days were harder than others. On those Azula would cry a lot. And so would you. You couldn’t stand seeing her so broken.

“Keep it together, (Y/N),” She would say at first, making you laugh through your tears. “It’s okay,” You’d reassure her time and time again. “Healing takes time,”

It was hard to face all those bottled up emotions after such an amout of time. It wasn’t her favorite way to deal with things at first, but she quickly found it helped. And it didn’t take long for her to tell you.

“Sharing your tears doesn’t make you weak,” She’d repeat your words in her darkest times. It brought her comfort. Kept her from going back to her old ways.

The princess moved to sit in the spot next to you, but she never made it that far. Small feet rushed through the grass, running straight into her legs. A tiny, little person curled around them, hugging her as far as she could reach. “Zula!” They squeaked.

The so-called ‘Zula’ raised a brow and crossed her arms, looking down at the little troublemaker. “What do you think you’re doing here?” The girl only lifted her hands in response. You stiffled a smile as Azula picked her up. “Where is your father? Didn’t he want to spend time with you?” Yes he did. And he arrived right on time. “Izumi?” Zuko looked around, searching for her, until he spotted you. The princess was snuggling into her aunt’s chest, a place that always felt warm. You knew it best. “There you are!” His sister raised a brow, tapping her foot on the ground, when he walked up to the three of you. When they stood next to each other, the family-resemblance was undeniable. They shared the same shade of amber eyes, the soft umber strands, and the fair, spotless skin.

It was another person that had helped Azula on her journey. Izumi.

The girl got to experience the childhood the siblings never had. She was proof that princesses didn’t have to be perfect all the time. Nobody did. And she loved her aunt without any doubt or fear.

“You really need to keep better watch on her, Zuzu. This is already the fifth time this has happened,” The Fire Lord nodded, holding his hands out. “Of course. It won’t happen again, i promise,” Azula tried handing her niece over, who whined, clinging to her neck. “But i mean, now that we’re already here, we could also just join you on your picnic,” He argued, pointing to his daughter who held onto Azula’s clothes with all her might. “Izumi seems to like the idea,” You squinted your eyes at him. This was definetely not a coincedence. Accidents don’t repeat themselves that often. “Admit it, Zuko. You’ve purposefully told Izumi that her aunt is here, only so you could get your clutches on our food again!” You’d connected the dots and read the situation. He’d taken a glimpse into your basket every time before you went out the past times. Particular interest always occured when it contained those delicous fruit tarts. With rose pedals on top. He gasped. “No, i didn’t!” 

“He’s lying,” Azula said, rolling her eyes. Izumi proceeded to tell her father that “Lying is bad!” which earned her a gentle pat on the head from her aunt.

Nevertheless they swayed you to share some of the ‘goodies’ as Izumi liked to call them. Finally you had Azula were she belonged. Next to you. Her niece sat in her lap, munching happily as your lover ran her hand through her hair. It had taken some time until she’d been allowed to see Izumi at first. Zuko and her mother hadn’t let them meet each other until his sister was completely stabile. Additionally he didn’t want to put Azula through something she couldn’t handle at the time. Their first meeting had been nervewracking for everyone who watched, but an eye-opening event for the two princesses. They seemed comfortable. Content with each other. Sometimes Azula would act as if Izumi bothered her. But she couldn’t deny that she was fond of the girl.

It was also no secret that Azula was clearly the ‘coolest aunt’. At least from Izumi’s perspective. She looked up to her as the strongest female firebender, to be known. Of course she was still too young to fight. But that didn’t stop her from constantly begging the siblings for stories. “Can you tell me a story?” She’d ask, making a pout. “I’ve told you stories countless times,” Her aunt replied, booping her upturned nose. “Another one, pleeease?” Azula sighed. Zuko chimed in, coming to her aid. He started telling the tale of the ‘Dance of Dragons’ in great detail, paying no mind to his sisters sarcastic comments interrupting the tale. Izumi was exstatic about both of them engaging in the narrative. When the story was completed, he beamed at Azula. “Remember when mother used to take us to watch the Ember Island Players perform this play? Afterwards you and i would reenact every scene. I don’t get why i always had to be the dark water spirit, tough,” His sister scoffed, not hiding her gleefull smirk. “Clearly, i made a better dragon emperor,” Her niece laughed at their antics, clapping her little hands. You could comprehend her joy. It was hilarious to have them both participate.

Unfortunatly, Izumi couldn’t escape her duties forever. “Bye, auntie Zula! Bye auntie (Y/N)!” She waved when Zuko carried her back inside. Upon her loopsided smile, Azula couldn’t help but grin, waving back. It wasn’t a sneer or a grimace. It was a genuine expression of so much beauty, that it took your breath away. When she turned back to face you, she furrowed her brows. “Why are you looking at me like that?” There were a ton of reasons. You didn’t even know were to start. So your delight had to be expressed differently. Her lips weren’t far from yours. It took a mere second to connect them. They were soft, as always. She tasted sweet, like the pastries she’d eaten before. “You’re my everything,” you mumbled, her lips still brushing yours. You see her eyes watering as she struggled to speak her next words. They reminded her of all that she’d endured. And yet you’re important enough for her to pull through. “I love you, (Y/N),”

A moment later the tears were replaced by a smile. Her hands came to rest on your cheeks, one of her thumbs running over your bottom lip, removing the lipstick hers had left. You yelped as she abruptly grabbed your shoulders, pulling you to rest your head in her lap.

She worked to untangle your locks, massaging your scalp in the process. Her nails lightly scraped your skin every so often. It felt relaxing. Heavenly. The smell of smoke and leather teased your senses. Something so familiar that it was like home. You allowed yourself to close your eyes for a moment, being at peace with just... feeling her. Being in her presence.

“Agni, you look just as self satisfied as my niece,” She playfully remarked.

The slight breeze made the leaves rustle softly. “Why wouldn’t i?” You chuckled, slowly opening your eyes to look up at her. Her slim fingers hadn’t stopped spoiling you. She looked stunning in the midday sun. Her eyes glowed like molten gold, framed by long, dark lashes, casting shadows on her cheeks. “I’m being pampered by the princess herself. I consider myself to be very lucky,” Her lips pulled into a smile as she caught your gaze.

“You’re right, (Y/N). We are lucky,”

Because everything you did for her, she would return tenfold.

Despite all the hardships, neglect and abuse she’d suffered, Azula had managed to get out on the other side.

Stronger, and better than ever.

Reconnected to the world around her, she remained one of the most powerful fire benders. Her blue flames offering protection wherever you’d go.

When she’d first felt affection towards you, she thought you were her weakness.

Now she knew you were her strength.