#i've been thinking about this a lot now and i have got pretty much all i want from t

[ckret2]

It's fic time. The Axolotl tries to persuade Bill to face what happened to his dimension while Bill tries to avoid that literally any way possible.

This is part 8 of a 9 part plot about the Axolotl meeting this friendly harmless innocent little triangle in the wake of the Euclidean Massacre and gradually learning he's literally the worst person ever. If you want to read and/or look at the pretty art on the other parts, here's one, two, three, four, five, six, and seven.

(WARNING in this one for nonspecific but pretty obvious suicidal ideation)

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The triangle whirled around as a milky white void closed in around him. "Whoa whoa hey! What is this? How'd I get here?"

"Welcome to my office. You're in a time and space outside time and space," the Axolotl said. "Take a seat. I have a very comfortable bean bag chair."

The triangle did not take a seat. He pointed at the Axolotl like an angry arrow. "What did you do! If you don't put me back now—"

"Don't worry. When we leave this space, you will be where and when you were. Think of this like a dream."

Furiously, the triangle burst into a ball of bright blue flame. It reeked of burning hydrogen—the stench of the fabric of reality itself burning away to nothing. But he, himself, didn't burn. What was fueling his flames? "Yeah?! Well, dreams are my business!" A wave of blue flames surged toward the Axolotl.

And dissipated without touching him. The Axolotl's eyes glowed white. "THIS IS MY DREAM, TRIANGLE—NOT YOURS!"

The triangle shrank down. He squeaked, "Got it." He quietly perched one edge on the Axolotl's bean bag chair. He didn't look at the Axolotl. He was staring up around them at the Axolotl's tank.

The Axolotl's eyes dimmed again to black voids. He settled back, trying to look unthreatening now that the triangle wasn't fighting him. "Do you see something?"

The triangle laughed uneasily. "Not aside from a whole lot of white."

"You keep looking up," the Axolotl said.

"Up?" the triangle said, confused; then apparently figured out what the Axolotl meant and snapped his gaze down to meet his again. "I never—haven't been able to see the stars before," he said, trying not to sound self-conscious even as he slowly tinted red again. "I've never seen anything that could block them. Except you."

Except him. The guy who passed the wall every day on his way to work; the eclipse that blocked out the sun once a year. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize." The walls of the tank seemingly dissolved, letting the triangle see the scene beyond: the glittery cotton candy celestial clouds of his home.

"Hey, I wasn't complaining! You're the one who asked." But the triangle had already visibly relaxed. He still wasn't looking at the Axolotl; but now, he was staring around at the unfamiliar new constellations with wonder.

It was the most unguarded the Axolotl had ever seen him. They didn't have much spare time; but the Axolotl couldn't bring himself to interrupt this brief peace.

After a moment, the triangle gestured toward the sky and said, "So, you—call that direction 'up.'"

"Yes?" the Axolotl said. "Is that strange?"

"No! Nooo no no. Just seems like it might be confusing, trying to tell apart north-up from star-up."

How odd. "We don't usually call north 'up'."

"Oh," the triangle said, voice small and sheepish.

"Some planetbound mortals do. But usually only when they're—" Oh. "... looking at maps." The world printed on a paper 2D plane. Like the plane the triangle had come from.

For all his power, his charisma, his bravado—the triangle was still just a lost little refugee from a flat little world. He held a whole universe in his hand, and he didn't even know up from down. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to him.

"Listen to me," the Axolotl said. "You're in a lot of trouble. I'm sure you know that."

The triangle scoffed. "Tell me something new."

"How much of our discussion did you hear?"

"Just something about rebuilding the higher dimensions' foundations. Which is exactly what I told you to do! You mind your business, I'll mind mine!"

He suspected the triangle had heard more than that. "It's not that simple. They can't rebuild the foundation until the fires are out. So, as long as your actions keep setting new ones..."

"A-ha. So that's why you're here," the triangle said. "They sent you to intimidate me into letting 'em condemn my dimension."

"No." It was true enough that they had sent the Axolotl to try to talk the triangle down. And yes, he would if he could—he certainly didn't want to see all of reality destroyed—but he wasn't primarily here to help the other gods. "I'm here to help you."

The Axolotl had watched how this triangle puppeted corpses and terrified the barely-living into dancing along to his tune. He had seen the dying and dead melted together into oversized composite corpses at the triangle's party; and he'd seen how the triangle's unhappy victims tumbled down into his hell. He'd seen how blue flames flared around the triangle in his anger, and how his lines of fire warped, melted, and consumed whole universes, and how he burned mortals down to the soul with his mere gaze. He'd felt how all of Dimension Zero moved when the triangle moved.

This triangle, this poor child, was a monster.

The Axolotl wore many faces. He'd been a psychopomp, a god of death. He'd changed roles so he could help the dead he escorted reach better futures—now he was a god of rebirth, a god of second chances, a god of justice.

And in his capacity as a god of justice, he'd proudly defended the villains that no one else would defend. He did not believe in punishment. It was too late to save the villains' victims, and no amount of punishment would ever change that; but it was not too late to save the villains.

He was god of death, god of rebirth, god of second chances, god of justice—and also a god of monsters. And he'd decided this monster was under his protection.

Dubiously, the triangle said, "So they sent you as my legal counsel."

Oh, for— "No. I'm just trying to give you advice."

"Even better—pro bono legal counsel!" 

"You're not my client," the Axolotl said. "But I'll advise you as a friend. I can tell you your options as I see them. We can discuss them if you'd like. You may ask me one question, and no more."

"What? Why—" The triangle caught himself and struggled to rephrase. "That's a—stupid rule—that I want an explanation for!"

"Because I'm the Axolotl."

"What does that have t— I don't know what that has to do with anything!"

"I'm the only one who gets to ax a lotl questions."

The triangle stared at him. He burst out laughing. "I think I hate you!"

The Axolotl gave him a wide, gummy grin.

"St—stop that! It makes you even more ugly, ugh. I thought you were here to give me advice, not bad jokes." The triangle made a show of leaning back as though getting comfortable, although it was clear he was uneasy touching the bean bag chair. "So advise me, pink stuff."

"I preferred 'frills.'" Gently, the Axolotl said, "I think it's in your best interests to give yourself up to the divine authorities."

The triangle laughed in disbelief. "You're kidding. Hey, I heard your pals talking about how they can't fight me without knocking the multiverse down—"

"And once they've put up a fireproof foundation you can't burn your way through, there will no longer be any risk to the multiverse if they come after you."

"Sounds to me like a good reason to make sure they don't get that foundation in place!"

"For you to do enough damage to ensure they can't construct a foundation, you'd probably knock the multiverse down yourself," the Axolotl said. "And if that's the case, they'll have nothing to lose by trying to stop you anyway, and everything to lose by not trying."

The belligerence leeched out of the triangle's face by the word. "Oh. Yeah. I guess that's... yeah," he said.  "Okay." His expression was faraway for a moment, as he tried to wrap his mind around the magnitude of the situation. "Okay. That's okay, it's fine, it's fine." Could he feel the walls closing in on him? Did he see the stars being blocked out? "I've... got a way out of this."

"What?"

He didn't meet the Axolotl's gaze. He pulled off his hat to worry at it in his hands. "I have a way."

Bluffing. Or wishful thinking. "No. This is trouble you can't get out of. There's no greater crime against reality than the destruction of an entire dimension," the Axolotl said. "Right now, the gods think you're an active, divine threat to all of existence. That's what this is about. They're not after you because you broke a couple of rules—they're afraid of you." (The triangle lit up at that. Not quite the reaction the Axolotl had been going for, but at least he had his attention.) "And that means they won't stop until they're sure you're no longer a threat. As long as they're pursuing you, your best case scenario is getting buried alive beneath the multiverse's foundation where they can forget about you until your dream realm unravels."

"So what g—I don't see what good giving myself up would do! My best move is putting off the inevitable as long as possible! Just let 'em try to bury me!"

"But it's not inevitable," the Axolotl said. "They fear you as a divine threat. If you prove you're neither divine nor a threat—"

"No."

"Mortals can't be charged the same way as gods can. If we convince the court that you didn't have your current powers at the time of the inferno—"

"I don't know why you're so convinced I didn't have powers at the time!"

"I'm not. That doesn't mean I can't convince a judge," the Axolotl said, which surprised the triangle enough that he actually shut up for a moment. "If you're charged as a god, you face eternal imprisonment or oblivion. If you're charged as a mortal, you'll be sentenced to a regular afterlife. If you give up your power—I'm not sure where yours come from, but there are ways it can be done—" (the triangle was already raising a finger to protest) "—and it can be temporary! But if you don't have divine power when you're taken in, it will be that much easier to convince the judge that you didn't have any when your wall burned. On top of that, if you surrender yourself willingly and admit that destroying Dimension 2 Delta was an accident, that alone can knock off half your charges."

"Next you'll ask me to give up my eye! No!" He was clenching his fist around his hat so tightly that it shook; but that was the only sign of anxiety he betrayed. His gaze was as intense as the stare of a sun. "I told you: me, my power, and my people are a package deal. We stay together. We're staying right here. I don't care how much it inconveniences you."

"It's not about how much it inconveniences us," the Axolotl said. "I'm here for you—you and your people."

"They don't need you or any of your stupid 'gods.' I can take care of them!"

"Then take care of them," the Axolotl said. "You understand that, no matter how this ends, your dream realm will be destroyed and you'll have to leave or perish—don't you?"

"No." That stubborn little glitter fleck. "I can patch up this dump and repair the wall by myself. Once the wall's back, you don't have to worry about your stupid multiverse destabilizing, right?! I'll stabilize my realm before you get your stupid impenetrable foundation in place! Maybe I'll put a roof on top of it that you can't get through!"

"You haven't done it yet! What do you think you can do that you haven't already done?"

"You don't need to know," the triangle snarled.

He had to be mad, bluffing, or in denial. But he didn't look it—eye narrowed in determination, flames smoldering around his edges, fist clenched around his hat—

And then it clicked.

He hadn't said he would replace his wall. He said he'd repair it. 

The Time Giant had said there was no way the little speck of matter that the triangle kept in his hat could be all the matter from his universe; no mortal could handle it without its gravity crushing them, nor would they have the energy to move it.

But she'd also said that gravity was turned off in Dimension Zero. And the triangle had proven he did have the power to move an entire universe—so why should a universe the size of a grain of sand be any more difficult?

And anyway—what did restrictions like that mean in a place where dreams and reality overlap?

"The Time Giant was wrong, wasn't she," the Axolotl said. "You don't have a dark matter problem. You're carrying around the rubble of your universe. All of it. All the matter she sensed but couldn't find."

The triangle gave him a resentful look; but then sighed in defeat. He loosened his fist, reached into his hat, and plucked up the speck of what remained of his universe. The black pinprick of white light. "You're not as dumb as you look," he said wryly. "Yep. The whole thing's right here—all but a city or two. I figured out how to catch it pretty fast."

Catch it? "What... happened to your dimension?"

A faint uneasiness itched at the back of his mind; a sound, right at the edge of his hearing, that he couldn't quite identify but knew shouldn't be here.

"It doesn't matter," the triangle said. "It's about to un-happen."

"You're thinking about setting off a big bang, aren't you?"

The triangle said nothing. He just rolled his universe between his thumb and forefinger contemplatively. 

"You are," the Axolotl said. "You want to replace your universe."

Coolly, the triangle said, "You're sounding kinda scared, frills."

"I am," the Axolotl admitted. "Of all your options, that's the most dangerous thing you could possibly do."

"Hey, the dangerous choices have turned out pretty well for me so far!"

The Axolotl really didn't think they had. "You know you can't get your old universe back, don't you? It will only make a new universe."

The triangle didn't say anything—but he went still, holding the tiny glowing pearl between his fingers rather than rolling it back and forth.

"It will have similar physical properties—it will be 2D, gravity and light will probably work the same way, all the laws of physics will be what you expect... but it will be a new universe. New stars and worlds will form. New species will evolve. Your people will never return."

The triangle squeezed the pearl in his hand. "You don't know that," he said harshly. "Everything that ever existed is right in here." He shook his fist at the Axolotl. He could see the light shining out between the triangle's fingers. "It has to have some sort of memory! There's gotta be traces of it left in there!"

"It can't remember. It doesn't have a soul to remember with."

"I'm a soul!" The triangle pointed at himself with a hundred arms. "Me! I remember! The whole dimension remembers!"

There was the hiss. The ever-present hiss that the Axolotl heard any time he was inside Dimension Zero, the static in the speakers, the last gasp of a dying big bang, the whisper murmur scream battering against the walls. Fear shivered up his spine. How was it audible from within his tank?

He tried to push down his fear. "You're not the whole dimension."

The triangle laughed. It was a chilling sound.

"Just—consider how much more you'd lose if it doesn't work the way you want it to. What will you do if you can't fix your dimension?"

"I can," he said. "If I can't fix it, no one can."

Why did he think he was more capable than gods who'd maintained the multiverse for trillions of years? "What if you're wrong?"

"I will fix it," the triangle said stubbornly.

"TELL ME WHAT YOU'LL DO IF YOU CAN'T FIX IT!"

The triangle literally shrank back, growing smaller as he sank into the Axolotl's beanbag. "Keep doing what I'm doing now! Partying!" He let out a half hysterical giggle. "I'll party til I die!"

"Set off a big bang in an unstable pseudo-dimension, and you will die! The kind of death no one comes back from!"

"Great!"

They both froze. Neither one of them had expected him to say that.

"Kidding," the triangle croaked. "I just—I just—I'm trying to get under your skin, pinky, that's all. Is it working? Don't answer that, that wasn't my question, that was—rhetorical. I'm assuming that stuff you've got is skin, anyway." The prattle was hollow and meaningless. "The point is, I'm the dream realm's eternal party host, and I'm not stopping this party for anything, no matter what you say, and—and that's it. That's all there is to it!"

He must have witnessed so many horrors, in so little time—his universe incinerating, his people dying, Dimension Zero constantly collapsing even as he attempted to prop it up, the dimensions above him twisting and warping as their people fell into his nightmarish realm...

The Axolotl slowly flew closer to the triangle.

"Oh, come on— don't," the triangle whined. "Whatever little speech you're about to make, don't, I don't wanna hear it—"

Gently, the Axolotl said, "I know you've lost your home."

The word "home" struck a note with the triangle. He didn't flinch, his expression didn't change; but he went still. He looked down at the compacted ruin of what used to be his whole universe.

"But it's not too late for you to find a new home," the Axolotl said. "You can still move on and rebuild. There's a future for you. If you come out, I'll help you navigate the afterlife system. If you're stuck in this dimension, we'll find a way to free you."

The triangle's face darkened.

"You can be reincarnated, or resurrected, or—just set free to be an energy being if you want. You can settle down in a neighboring dimension, join a new people—"

"No. I'm not about to be a couch surfer in someone else's universe." He glowered up at the Axolotl. "Those people will join me. Everyone can either join me, or—or get out of my way! I finally made my kingdom, I'm not giving up my crown now!"

"If you keep your crown, you'll kill your kingdom! You know that if you stay here you'll destroy everything, I know you know it!"

"It's the best option I have! Better than your plan, anyway! Surrender to the cops and let my world fall apart?" He laughed harshly. "No way, Buster! I told my people I'd liberate them from our flat, oppressive little world and take them to a party paradise, and that's exactly what I'm gonna make for them!" He held out his little pearl of a universe again, the paradise-to-be.

Before, he'd said that the dream realm was his paradise. He'd also said that he'd remake his destroyed universe exactly as it had been. How could the "oppressive" world they'd left be their paradise? Nevermind the fact that none of "his people" were from his world. Which of the stories he'd invented was the truth? Which did the triangle think was the truth? Did he even know?

"If all of this is for your people—would you risk them? If trying to build a paradise kills the very people you made it for—"

"They'd never know."

The Axolotl's blood ran cold. It took a moment for him to find his voice. "What?"

"I can keep the party going until the end. They'd never find out what's coming. If the dream realm collapses, it'll be too fast for them to tell what's happening," the triangle said. "In their final moments, they'll still remember me as a hero."

The Axolotl hadn't realized until that moment just how cold the triangle's expression was.

His mind flashed to seeing VENDOR earlier that day, hustling the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force to clean up this mess faster because THEY didn't want the journalists to claim THEY had mishandled the situation during an election season.

Was that all the triangle was?

Another politician more concerned with how his constituents saw him than with what he could do for them?

"But," the Axolotl said weakly, "I've watched how you rescue the mortals from the fires. I've seen how you're struggling to keep this dimension from collapsing on them. I've seen how much you're suffering. You're running yourself ragged to protect them. You want so badly for them to be safe."

The triangle seemed to brighten at the Axolotl's words, as though he was soaking in the high praise. "Well, sure! And they love me for it! Would any god do less for his worshipers? Would you?" His voice took on a bitter tone. "But I don't know of any god who'd stick his corner out for a nonbeliever—and that's what they'll be if I don't deliver on the paradise I promised. I take my party hosting seriously. I'll give them their paradise if it kills me. Or them. Or everyone, if that's what it takes."

He was no hero. He never had been. He didn't care about the countless souls he'd collected, only their worship.

He didn't want his people to be safe; he just wanted to be his people's savior.

If I can't fix it, no one can. The triangle hadn't meant no one else was able to. He'd meant no one else was allowed to. He'd rather die than let someone else fix his mistakes.

And he would. This was a mass suicide.

No. Worse than that—it was a mass murder-suicide.

"You already lost your world once," the Axolotl said desperately, "don't you remember what that was like?"

The triangle flinched back like the Axolotl had slapped him. The tank rumbled around them; the hissing whispers grew louder. "That's... none of your business! Stop talking about my world, you don't know the first thing about it—"

"I know how much you must miss it. I know how deeply losing your people must hurt." It must have hurt, why would he have clung to what was left of his world if it didn't, why would he be so determined to rebuild it exactly as it had been?

"My—my people are fine." His voice was choked. He squeezed his eye shut. "They're... all out at the party. Waiting for me. Don't talk about—"

"The people at the party are shapes you kidnapped from other dimensions." He was so stubbornly loyal to his chosen delusions. "Your people are dead. You know they are!"

"No!"

His scream was answered by howls outside the Axolotl's tank. Through the static, the Axolotl could pick up a sound repeated over and over. A word. Murderer, murderer, murderer.

"No! They aren't dead! I saved them!" He curled in on himself, hands pressed to his sides like it could block out the sounds. "I liberated them from their shallow lives! I gave them their freedom—"

"Then give them their freedom now!"

The triangle's breath hitched.

"If you want to die, you can die. There are ways to break a soul. I can help. But do it alone," the Axolotl pled. "I know you care about these people!" He had to believe it, he had to believe it, he had to. In spite of the evidence to the contrary, he had to. "If you won't let us help you, at least let us help them go home. Please. You need to let them go."

He clenched his tiny hands into fists; he looked so pained the Axolotl thought he might shatter.

In another timeline, a better timeline, he whispered, "How?" The word he should have said echoed around them, blending into the static whispers. It would be so easy to say.

But in this timeline, he asked, "You're some kind of lawyer or something, right?"

The Axolotl paused uneasily. "By... way of metaphor," he said. "We have trials and courts, but not the way mortals understand—"

"There are no laws in my kingdom," the king growled. "Get out of here. Now."

"But—"

"I said OUT!"

A force crashed into the time and space between time and space, shattering the Axolotl's tank, the glittery cotton candy nebulas' pinks and blues disrupted by a twisted geyser of colors—raw frothing stuff somewhere between matter and energy—and it flung the Axolotl away from the triangle like a wave flinging a fish from the ocean. The anxious background static whispers grew to a buzzing roar, 1000 decibel white noise. He spun dizzily through the cosmic miasma.

The first time he'd come in here—the first time the triangle had chased him out—he'd felt instinctively that he'd been in danger. He'd felt flames licking at his heels.

He knew now that that had been a mere warning.

"I might be in your dream, but your dream is in MY dream realm!" The triangle seemed to get larger without his size changing. Maybe it was the universe around him that was contracting. "And you've overstayed your welcome, Axolotl!"

The Axolotl had tumbled into the nightmarish eternal dance party. Shrieking overlapping music drowned out the buzzing whispers. Thousands of eyes stared at him in horror and thousands of voices gasped in disgust; and he realized that as many times as he'd seen them, he had never been in their two-dimensional field of view.

For all the thousands that stared at him, millions of corpses never stopped dancing.

One last time, the Axolotl turned to the triangle and pled, "Just give the hostages the option to leave if they want!"

"My people aren't hostages!"

"Then give them a choice!" He could feel dead hands grabbing at his skin and fins. He wasn't sure if they were trying to restrain him for their Magister Mentium, or cling to him for escape. He wasn't even sure whether they were the dead who still had their own souls, or the triangle's corpse puppets. "Anyone who wants to stay with you can!"

"Shut up!" The triangle boomed louder and louder and he grew larger and larger, until his voice and his eye seemed to fill the universe. He was shuddering with rage (with regret?)—it threatened to shake him apart, and the universe with him. "All of this is your fault! I'm—sick because of you!" In another reality he said insane; but the realities where he didn't closed up around the word and crushed it into silence. "You made me like this! You infected me!"

"With what?" He'd only spoken to the triangle once before today. He hadn't even entered his dimension.

"This—idea!" He didn't say what idea, not in this reality; but the words echoed in from another reality where he did. He screamed to drown the echoes out. "I was fine until I met you and you ruined everything!" Regret spilled out of his eye so thick it was almost palpable, energy like a river. It threatened to fill the interdimensional in-between space and drown them all. The Axolotl could taste the idea that had poisoned the triangle: the idea that everyone mattered. That everyone was worthy of a god's attention. And now, everyone was gone.

Bewildered, the Axolotl said, "You're not 'sick' to think that. It's the sanest idea you could have—"

"Get out!" The shriek echoed through infinity. "Get out! The dream realm is my domain and I am its king! I told you last time, I won't let you threaten my people!"

"I would never—"

"GET OUT!" Blue flames exploded out of the triangle; some of his nearest prisoners were incinerated as easily as tissue paper.

The Axolotl tried to shield himself; the flames consumed one of his forelegs and ate away at his dorsal fin.

He tore himself free of the desperate grasping shapes and swam from the triangle as fast as he could.

The triangle chased him; and, to the Axolotl's despair, as the center of Dimension Zero followed the triangle, the edge of reality pulled ever further away.

His flames licked at the Axolotl's tail, consuming the fin; he swam slower and slower.

As the triangle pursued the Axolotl, his attacks further destabilized the volatile dimension; wormholes formed where the fabric of reality folded and bunched in on itself and was pierced through. Light shot through the holes like a million disembodied sunbeams. 

He saw one that led straight to the edge of Dimension Zero. He wriggled through.

"Where did you—?! HEY!" The dimension whirled dizzyingly as the triangle refocused on his evasive prey. "You think you can get away from me in my own realm?" 

"Do you want me to get out or not?!"

"I want you DEAD!"

The Axolotl shouldn't have asked.

With a roar, the triangle clawed at him. A thick, sucking wave of gravity as dense as a black hole tore through the unstable miasma toward him. The triangle laughed sadistically.

With one last surge of energy, he paddled his tail hard enough to outpace the triangle and burst free of the dimension.

The ragged edges of Dimension Zero ripped further under the triangle's attack, but it dissipated in the third dimension.

The Axolotl sighed in relief—then flinched when the triangle crashed into the invisible barrier holding the cosmic foam in the space-between-space where Dimension Zero should have been. Like a piece of glitter sticking to a bubble, if glitter sticking to a bubble were the most violent force in the universe. "Get back here! I'll skin your freakish hide and make a tent outta it—!" He strained toward the Axolotl, threatening to drag the bubble along with him, like a particularly determined sled dog trying to pull a trailer home.

The Axolotl hastily backed out of range as nauseating plumes of color stretched outside their bounds again. Blue fire danced over the thin membrane between dimensions like a burning oil spill on an ocean. The plumes twisted into shapes almost like arms, hundreds of them, reaching toward him—

And froze. The triangle was staring past the Axolotl.

The Axolotl turned to look.

It was the most sublimely awful sight he'd ever seen. An impenetrable wall made up of gods, angels, sentient forces of nature—there were things here so transcendentally powerful that the Axolotl couldn't even see them; he only knew they were present by the perimeters of the space he couldn't bring his eyes to gaze upon and the terrifying awe he felt when he tried.

They were all armed.

All their weapons were pointed at the triangle.

Apparently, the ATTF had called in reinforcements.

A god that looked like a hologram projection, the light of its projector shining down on it from a higher dimension like a halo, thundered, "ADVANCE ANY FURTHER INTO REALITY, AND WE WILL BE FORCED TO SUBDUE YOU."

"You can't afford to!" the triangle crowed. "You'll knock your own universes down!"

"NOT ANYMORE."

The triangle's eye widened. The thousand arms of raw reality seized the jagged edges of the dimensions bordering the hole left when Dimension 2 Delta burned down, trying to crush them—and nothing happened. He slammed Dimension Zero against the bordering dimension, trying to crack open a larger opening, and then trying to simply shove the bordering dimensions aside—and nothing happened. Dimension Zero burned; but the surrounding first and second dimensions remained still. There was no creak and crack of snapping lines and shattering planes as the triangle tried to squeeze his bloated universe free. There was no glowing line of fire on the distant horizon.

The neighboring dimensions burned and blackened under the thousand hands; but they didn't dissolve to ash. The cinders got caught between the layers together as the dimensions splintered into layers, then multiplied—splintered and multiplied—splintered and multiplied—thicker and denser and harder—

Parallel universes. Every time the triangle touched them, they split into more timelines, reinforcing themselves. The Time Giant already reformatted the universes most closely adjacent to Dimension Zero. Not every universe—but just enough to form a cage.

The triangle gave up with a grunt of pain. He laughed in disbelief—and then anger. "You were the distraction?"

"No! I was supposed to talk you into cooperating with building the fireproof foundation! We agreed to only call in reinforcements if I couldn't persuade you!" He looked around for the Time Giant, but couldn't find her—nor any of the other gods he'd spoken to while dealing with this mess. Everyone, apparently, had been cleared out of the vicinity to make way for the god militia.

The only civilian left on the 3D side of the missing wall was the Axolotl—once again, stuck in the middle of a situation he had no business being involved in.

The triangle's eye widened further, further, white hot with fury. "Nothing's ever your fault, is it, frills?! Every time you ruin my life, it's all a big misunderstanding! You just keep talking your way out of trouble!" His eye opened wider and wider still. His eyelid unhinged. His mandibles split open and at the back of his eye socket was an infinitely dark esophagus. Sprouting in a ring around the triangle's eye like the petals of a grisly flower, piercing the membrane between the zeroth dimension and the third, were millions and millions of—

—teeth. Teeth longer than the spaces between stars and sharp enough to split an atom.

The Axolotl only barely managed to paddle back out of their range before they snapped at where he had been. A couple of the higher gods caught him, holding his sides protectively. His skin sizzled with holy electricity.

The god militia drew back from the gnashing fangs, then readied their own weapons: spears, guns, swords, a wider array of divine and holy weaponry than the Axolotl had ever seen. The projection leading the militia called, "DON'T LET HIM MAKE IT PAST THE FIREPROOF BARRIER."

"Afraid I'll start breaking things again?" The fangs snapped tauntingly. "Hey—how fast do you think I can find the load-bearing dimensions?"

The Axolotl shook off the gods and swam back toward Dimension Zero. "Stop!"

"HOLD FIRE!" The projected god commanded, "OUT OF THE WAY, AXOLOTL. THE MULTIVERSE'S SAFETY IS WORTH MORE THAN YOUR LIFE."

He knew it was. The leader of the militia was so powerful that resisting a direct order made the Axolotl dizzy—but he did resist. He shouted at the triangle, "You can't fight off every god in the multiverse! This is suicide!" He realized too late that that probably wasn't as discouraging as he'd intended it to be.

"So what?! There's no way for me to win! Get executed for god crimes or get erased when the dimension collapses—"

"Those aren't your only choices!" The Axolotl could see the fangs slowly, slowly curling up in his peripheral vision, and pretended he didn't. "It's not too late for you to stand down—!"

"I can't!" A wave of fire blazed up the teeth of the Dream Realm. He held up a fist, and it was far too small for any of the gods, so mighty and large, to see what he held; but the Axolotl knew. "If I don't get a happy ending, why shouldn't I burn the rest of you down with me?! At least I'll accomplish one thing before I go!" His hand began glowing as energy began gathering around the tiny seed of a big bang.

"Do you want your worshipers to remember you as a monster in their last moments?!"

"Better a monster than a LOSER!" His laugh was a strained subsonic roar. "Are fame and infamy really that different?! At least they'll be thinking about me at the end!"

"It would make you a terrible party host!"

The Axolotl didn't know what had possessed him to say that. Apparently the triangle didn't know what to make of it either, because he froze, giving the Axolotl a wide-eyed blank stare.

But it worked. He snapped out of his rage. The light gathering around the remains of Dimension 2 Delta went dark. For a moment, he was frozen, giving the Axolotl a wide-eyed blank stare; and then he laughed again, just as strained, much weaker. The borders of Dimension Zero shuddered with his laughter. "Fair enough!" The appendages stretching out into the third dimension lost definition. "Fair enough." He glowered tiredly at the god militia—but raised his hands in surrender. Both his palms were empty.

The trembling fangs dissolved as they retracted. The whole paradoxical mass sagged sluggishly back into the crawlspace underneath reality.

One by one, the god militia slowly lowered their weapons.

The Axolotl's heart was still hammering in his chest; and only then did it register that he'd nearly been eaten by an entire dimension.

Where had his power come from? How had the triangle done all this—made his whole dimension vanish without a trace, shoved an entire plane inside a point, gained complete control over it all...

He really did have complete control over the entire universe that had formed inside Dimension Zero—didn't he?

And to control an entire universe, he needed to have an entire universe's worth of energy.

Dimension 2 Delta had been an entire universe. And now—all of its energy was in Dimension Zero.

With the triangle.

As he watched the triangle wincing in pain as the Dream Realm sank back into place, as though the triangle could feel the way the edges of the neighboring dimensions dug into the frothing chaos, the Axolotl whispered, "Oh, no. What have you done?"

His power had come from his own universe. He had devoured it. He'd made it part of him.

All that energy wasn't stored inside the triangle's body—but the Axolotl had been wrong to think that the triangle was the body in the first place. The triangle was only the face: the eye, the mouth, the mind. The part of the Dream Realm that could speak.

The Dream Realm was the anglerfish—and the triangle was its pretty golden glowing lure. They were all one monster.

The triangle was slumped in defeat, but still he shot the Axolotl a tired glare. The hissing static whispers rose up around him again, spilling out of the Dream Realm. (The whispers, too, were a part of the triangle.) "Who are you to judge," he muttered. "You weren't there."

No, he wasn't. He'd gotten here too late.

Behind the Axolotl, the god projection said curtly, "APPREHEND THE TRIANGLE WHILE HE'S COMPLIANT."

The Axolotl whirled around, eyes glowing with rage. "YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!" The gods who had started moving toward Dimension Zero froze again.

"HE'S A THREAT TO THE MULTIVERSE!"

"He stood down!" 

"HE'S PROVEN WILLING TO DESTROY REALITY. HE COULD EASILY CHOOSE TO AGAIN." The higher dimensional projector turned to project straight at the Axolotl, dazzling him even through his shut eyes, shining straight into his brain. "STAND. ASIDE."

"No." The Axolotl tensed his muscles against the compulsion to obey. "He was a threat to the multiverse. Once the last walls are closed over the crawlspace, he won't be anymore. If he doesn't make a move between now and then, you have no grounds to pursue him." It was a little easier the second time to resist the higher god's command. "So if you do follow him out of the third dimension to capture him, you're trespassing in a new god's sovereign territory to make an illegal arrest outside your jurisdiction!"

"HE'S MASSACRED TEN DIMENSIONS AND TRIED TO DESTROY MORE. THERE ISN'T A COURT IN REALITY THAT WOULD CONSIDER PURSUING HIM UNJUSTIFIED."

"I know a few."

"YOU'RE DEFENDING A DIVINE MENACE. WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?"

He quietly kissed his career prospects goodbye as he watched himself do the stupidest thing he'd ever done. "I'm the Axolotl," said the Axolotl, "and I'm his lawyer!"

####

(Thanks for reading!! If the art lured you in and this is the first chapter you read, this is part 8 of a 9 part fic about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. I'll be posting the last chapter next week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna watch the Axolotl deal with having gotten his heart broken by this sweet little triangle who actually isn't sweet.

It's ALSO chapter 61 Part Eight of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. So if you wanna read more of me writing Bill, check it out. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a one-shot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: this was The Big One, gang. And now I expect for the next several months I'm gonna get comments from y'all rereading earlier chapters going HOLD ON WAS THIS LINE FORESHADOWING THAT LITERALLY THE ENTIRE NIGHTMARE REALM IS PART OF BILL? And the answer is: yes. yes it was. Looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts!! 💕

also this was THE absolute hardest chapter to write, goddamn.)

[brbsoulnomming]

Heart On Your Sleeve Part 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

This part includes the Russian torture scene, so adding a warning for gore/violence just to be safe!

-----

Eddie comes by Scoops, once Steve gets the job there.

The first time, he laughs at the sailor hat for a minute straight until Steve rolls his eyes and calls back, “I'm taking my lunch!”

“Now?” Robin bitches. “Did you actually get a girl to fall for those ridiculous li-” She cuts off as she comes out of the back room and sees Eddie. “Oh. Huh.”

Eddie flashes a sharp toothed smile at her, and Steve rolls his eyes again and elbows him.

“I'll be back before the actual lunch rush hits this way,” he tells Robin, untying his apron and depositing it to the side of the counter.

To Eddie, he says, “Here, since this brought you so much joy,” and drops the sailor hat onto the top of Eddie's head.

Eddie gives a squawk and squirms around like he's trying to bat him off, though Steve notices he doesn't actually push him away as Steve adjusts the hat to his liking.

“There,” Steve says, shooting Eddie a teasing little grin as he steps back. “You keep that on the whole time, and I'll buy you lunch.”

“A small price to pay for a free meal,” Eddie says solemnly, but his eyes are crinkled a little like they do when he smiles, and he doesn't take the hat off the entire time they eat together.

—

He and Eddie sit out back behind Scoops, passing a cigarette back and forth. It's the end of Steve's shift, and technically he doesn't have to stay anymore, but he's not in a hurry to get home.

Dustin's away at camp, after all.

“Why the hell are you working here?” Eddie asks, sounding like he's been mulling it over for a while.

Steve snorts. “Needed to work somewhere.”

“Okay, fine, but haven't you done the lifeguard thing for like three years?”

Steve - didn't actually expect Eddie to know that, and he shoots him a little smile before he rolls his eyes. “Not a real job, according to my dad. It's just hanging out at the pool all day.”

Eddie scoffs. “Would your dad even know a real job if it bit him?”

“My dad's never really had to work for anything,” Steve mutters. “I didn't get into any of the colleges they wanted me to, so I needed to be taught a lesson. Pretty sure he was hoping it'd humiliate me.”

Eddie tips back, looking him over. “You don't look very humiliated.”

Steve shrugs. “Because I'm not. Yeah, sure, the outfit and the hat are stupid, but work is work. Ice cream makes people happy, I make people happy, it could be worse. Besides, he has no idea what I'm even making here. Every paycheck is a little more I can stash away where he can't touch it.”

Eddie's watching him very closely now, in a way that Steve's never seen before.

“How long have you been doing that?” he asks quietly.

“What, saving money that my dad doesn't know about?” Steve asks.

“Yeah.”

Eddie's face is serious - far more serious than Steve's ever seen him, than he thinks the situation warrants. Steve frowns.

“Since I got my first job, I guess? Anything I ask for from him comes with some kind of string attached, and I got tired of paying for it.”

Eddie's quiet again. “You've gotten in a lot of fights the last couple of years,” he says, slow and careful like he thinks Steve might bolt. “Lot of bruises.”

He clocks on to what Eddie's trying to get at, then, and a rush of relief washes over him as he hurries to set him straight. “Oh, no, my dad's not abusive or anything, just an asshole. He's never hit me.”

Eddie considers that. “Your dad can be an abusive piece of shit without ever hitting you.”

Steve licks his lips, takes his turn watching Eddie a little more closely. “Sounds like you're familiar with it.”

Eddie laughs, sharp and humorless. “Come on, man, you know who my dad is.”

“I know what people say about him,” Steve agrees. “But I've learned not to listen to rumors.”

Eddie flicks the cigarette butt off into the distance.

Steve gets out another one, puts it between his lips to light it. He takes a long drag, then - pulls his heart out of his chest, setting it between them before he passes the cigarette over.

Eddie's eyes drop down to his heart as he takes the cigarette, but this time he doesn't say anything.

Steve still doesn't ask to see his, even though he's tempted.

“You can listen to these ones,” Eddie says after a while. “They're mostly true.”

“You deserve better,” Steve tells him.

He looks over when Eddie doesn't say anything, finding him watching his heart. It's beating strong and steady.

“So do you,” Eddie says without looking up.

They sit in silence for a while longer, until the cigarette is gone.

Then Steve tucks his heart back into his chest and stands up. “Come on, I'll get us lunch.”

Eddie scowls at him. “You bought last time.”

“Yeah, but a conversation like that deserves a burrito bigger than your head, and I've got employee discount,” Steve counters, holding out his hand.

Eddie concedes, accepting his hand up.

—

Steve keeps making up excuses to buy Eddie lunch after that, every time he comes by at the end of an early shift or close to his lunch break on a later shift.

One day he gets them both pizza from Sbarro, and they sit at one of the sticky plastic tables in the food court. It's so small their knees knock together as they devour their slices, but -

But it also means that Steve can tuck his ankle up against Eddie's, hook his foot half around it, and have an excuse if he needs one.

He doesn't need one.

Eddie doesn't move his foot away, but he does shoot wide eyed little looks over at Steve like he's not sure whether this is a joke or not, and -

“Hi,” Steve says, soft and ridiculous and holy shit, he has to have something better than hi.

But apparently hi works, because Eddie ducks his head, looks back up at him with something soft and wary and surprised all at once.

“Hi,” Eddie says back.

And that's -

It's something.

—

Steve gets closer to Robin - their bickering has started to become playful, and even though her teasing's never been mean, now it sounds almost fond. She still gets annoyed when customers watch them work in complete sync and think they're a couple, but now she just rolls her eyes and complains to him later instead of throwing things off by trying to protest it.

It's nice. He thinks he might be winning her over, and it makes the days pass a lot quicker.

—

He doesn't see Eddie for a week after their pizza lunch.

He tries not to think much about it, just tells himself that if he hasn't seen him by the time Dustin comes back from camp, he'll call him.

—

This isn't like any beating he's taken before.

Steve'd thought he was prepared. He was prepared, at least in the beginning. Billy did just as much damage, even if it was in a shorter span of time, and the ache in his ribs and stomach and face is familiar.

He can handle it.

Besides, it doesn't matter how much they hurt him - protecting Robin and Dustin and Erica is more important than anything else.

"Let's take a look at his heart," one of the soldiers says. "See how honest he's really being."

Steve's pretty sure he makes a choked off little guh.

He doesn't want to let them anywhere near his heart.

But on the other hand - he isn't lying as much as they think he is, and maybe that will prove it? They'll have to undo his hands to get him to take it out, and he briefly considers trying to get the drop on them, but he has to concede that probably won't go very well for him.

It's not like they're really asking for his opinion, anyway.

They aren't making any move to untie his hands, either, and Steve's brow scrunches in confusion.

He sees one of them holding what looks like a mix of a gun and a taser. It - honestly, it looks pretty stupid, like a prop in a bad movie, and he wrinkles his nose at it.

They press it up against his ribcage, pull the trigger - and fuck, he jolts back with the force of it.

His chest splits open.

The shock of it makes him numb for a precious few moments, staring down at the gaping hole in his own chest. The pain doesn't hit him until they take his heart out. It feels like it's being carved out of him, ripped from his chest as though he were being mauled by a wild animal, and he has the somewhat hysterical thought that he shouldn't be alive for this.

His heart was torn out of his chest, and somehow it's still beating, erratic and racing.

"Hmm," one of the soldiers says, tilting his heart this way and that. "Feels real."

The soldier squeezes it, and this time Steve screams at the pressure tightening around his heart, making him convulse in his bonds.

The second soldier laughs.

"They're making such good fakes these days," the second soldier says.

The first soldier relaxes his grip, and Steve sucks in ragged gulps of air, too disoriented to really understand what they're saying.

"Much more sophisticated than patches and paint," the first soldier agrees. "What good would a spy be if he showed his real heart?"

"No," Steve protests. "It's real, come on, you can feel it."

There’s no sign of deception from his heart, but it's beating too wildly from the pain to really make a difference.

"We'll see about that," the second soldier says, handing a switchblade to the first.

The first soldier presses the flat of the blade against his heart. "Let's see what's underneath if we shave a little off?"

—

Steve doesn't really remember anything after that. He must have passed out, because the next thing he hears is Robin's voice, and he realizes he's in a different room, tied back to back with her.

His chest aches.

Everything aches, really, but his chest is the worst of it.

Steve looks down, sees himself solid and in one piece again. He might have thought the whole thing was just a pain induced hallucination if it weren't for the unstable beat of his heart. It's pulsing unsteadily, and he feels as though if he even breathes too hard, it might burst into pieces with the next beat.

But he's not alone now.

He's with Robin, and she makes everything better, and even though his heart beats too fast when he thinks of how much he likes her - it's the good kind of too fast, not the kind that makes him think his heart is going to explode.

He is pretty sure that his heart is going to explode, though, that they're probably going to die here. He knows Robin is thinking the same thing - he just knows, like going through Russian secret agent torture together has made them automatically on the same wave length.

They were heading towards being friends before this, he knows, wonders if maybe they could have ever been for real.

It's a shame he doesn't think he'll ever get to find out.

—

Dustin and Erica find them before Steve loses any fingers.

Which is good. He might not be on the basketball team anymore, but he still plays with Lucas sometimes, and he likes all of his fingers attached to his hand and not on the floor of a secret Russian base.

He tells Dustin that as they're escaping from said Russian secret base. Dustin looks a little pale, hugs him tight around the middle, which makes Steve laugh - it should hurt, he thinks, but he doesn't feel a thing.

The only thing he feels is kind of floaty, and the itchy, overheated sensation he always gets when he's had his heart locked inside his chest for too long.

When no one's looking, Steve takes his heart out of his chest.

His stomach turns.

Whatever he's feeling about it seems distant, too far removed for him to be able to react to it, but the physical sensation of his stomach heaving is present and accounted for.

It only barely looks like a heart. The shape of it is hardly visible, more like a double handful of the precut chuck roast he gets to use as stew meat, sluggishly oozing every time it beats.

The thought of putting it back in his chest makes his stomach heave again, but even like this, he knows he can't keep it out in the open.

He rips off the red scarf from his Scoops uniform, wraps it around his heart to hold it together, and ties it off.

There.

Now no one will notice.

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!

-----

Part 6

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @samsoble @persnicketysquares @cryptid-system @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse

[cripplecharacters]

Hey folks, fully abled writer here! I've got a question about nicknames/descriptive names related to physical differences and abilities. I write a lot of fantasy fiction with differing name and language systems than the real world. I'm also fond of using compound names, such as "Dawnbringer, Hardcutter, Bluemark, Bearhunter, etc." So in a fantasy world where much of this society has given names and clan surnames following a specific theme of strength and durability, I have a character that has both his given name but also a nickname many people call him. This nickname is "Firebrand," and I invented him many years ago when I wasn't very critical of my writing or biases and just wanted a cool-sounding fantasy name. He is is a city guard in a city that is regularly attacked by fantasy animals for plot and environment-related reasons, and as I developed this character more I decided that rather than his original dark edgy backstory where he was called Firebrand because he was tortured, he now gains the name Firebrand because he survived a dragon's fire breath and came out of it with burn scars up his chest neck and arms, particularly on his hands that limits some of his movement and dexterity. I intend to make it clear in the story that it isn't a derogatory name, it's part of their society's theme of having names that signify how people survive things.

He likes the nickname and the meaning it has in his culture, because to him it means he's good at his job and he has survived hard times. Right now, the story is told through third-person P.O.V, and he is primarily referred to in non-dialogue narration as his nickname. In dialogue, he usually introduces himself with his given name and surname, but many people including the rest of the city guards refer to him with the nickname . His family and boyfriend will use either name for him depending on the context and company. At a later point in the story, when he and some others end up in a situation where they are dealing with fairies and the magical rules about giving them your name, his nickname gives him an advantage against the fairy rules.

Is this a reasonable concept at all, or is it all very weird to use an injury and acquired physical difference to identify someone with? Or, if the concept is alright but the name itself is bad, do you have any suggestions for how I might want to come up with a different nickname? I'm thinking if the use of the word "brand" in the nickname has too much of a negative connotation, I could try to replace it with something like "Firehand" or "Firebrave" that might have a clearer positive connotation to readers as well as his in-story society.

And although it's not the purpose of this question, I have been doing research about burn scars and treatment; this blog has been helpful! Since the burns were deep and he has limb tremors and cramps as well as scars, he has exercises and ointments to keep his scarred skin flexible, and he takes care not to take long tasks that will strain his hands with fine motor skills or whatnot. When on duty, his uniform includes gloves and a high collar for protection, but in casual clothing his hands are bare and his clothing doesn't hide his scars unless it's for weather protection. I may come back in the future with more questions about that, but I've determined what I need to start with about the physical effects his injuries have on him.

Thank you, and I hope you're all having a good day!!

Hello!

This sounds fine and pretty cool to me. The most important part is that the name isn't intended to be derogatory and that he actually likes it.

As a different disability-related example, "Wheels" and all its variants is a surprisingly common nickname that wheelchair users use (mostly younger guys). Sometimes you have a few of these dudes in one group and three people look at you when you try to call for one of them, it's just a fun nickname. Could it also be a cartoon-bully level derogatory insult if it was used for a character that hates it? 100%. It's very context dependent.

That's the same sentiment that's crucial here I think. Your character likes it and is proud of it? Go ahead. It makes sense in his cultural background and his nickname falls under a similar naming convention so it fits. I like the mention of how it reminds him that "he has survived hard times", since it's something that I've heard from burn survivors who explain why they choose "survivor" over "victim" to refer to themselves.

To answer your actual question: yes, I think it's a reasonable concept that makes sense in the character's setting. In another context yeah, it could be weird to identify with an acquired physical difference like that, but other people will do it anyway, you could as well make it "yours" and be proud of it, wear it as a positive. I don't think it's something that is an automatic "no" even if kinda weird. I'd go case-by-case and in your character's case it seems great.

As for the actual name, I agree that "brand" does have a negative connotation in English, all the criminal/cattle/label associations are less than ideal. I don't think it's detrimental to the concept like some other potential nicknames could be (looking at all the No-Faces and Half-Faces, which I do think are strictly derogatory) but if changing it to something less loaded wouldn't be an issue I'd probably do that. Both -hand and -brave are pretty awesome (the latter kinda reminds me of a warrior cat name but that's definitely a me problem), since they're either neutral or very positive in their connections.

Personally I care more about the fact that you're researching your character thoroughly, don't think that him being a burn survivor comes with some intrinsic negative traits, nor seem to put him in one of the Four Boxes. That's more important than terminology and vice versa - one could use the most up-to-date correct terms to refer to their OC and still make them into an offensive nightmare with bad execution. It doesn't mean that specific words aren't important but they (generally) aren't what breaks or makes representation that people want to see.

You seem to be doing good: my advice is to rethink the -brand part due to its connotations, and just keep researching as you write him.

Hope this helps,

mod Sasza

[shinra-makonoid]

Be careful with this kind of news because as much as antisemitism did rise, in France (which is very close with similar issues) anti-muslim and anti-arab views/actions skyrocketed. We have data showing it.

The alt right is starting to use Jews and LGBT people to try to remove Arabs and Muslims from the country, and everyone gets on with it without thinking. The paper itself says it's still pretty rare.

The journal doesn't show data because there isn't much to show, specific cases regarding sport exist even without the antisemitic part (people are very very very very violent during sports even with youth, and obviously the war didn't help this, but I know of murders and attacks in youth sport, some parents are crazy and violent), LGBT people got harassed, attacked and murdered for years without any journal speaking about it because they didn't care.

Now that it can be used to throw away all the Arabs, they suddenly care. We're being used to push a political view.

Which doesn't mean that antisemitism is acceptable it's not and it did rise, but I assure you, neighborhoods aren't more deadly to anyone than it's been for the past few years. There are a lot more racists tho, that I've seen and heard much more with the years.

Well what is being done about it? What is being done to assure jewish safety?

Like I get hiding being jewish and not being attacked is better than being openly jewish and being attacked but A) even if a jew doesn't wear judacia, most jews look visibly Jewish so the only actual current probable measure is for jews to not go to those neighborhoods.

But what is being done so jews don't have to avoid certain areas? What is being done to prevent jews from hiding their jewishness?

Is there going to be an temporary increase in police presence? Are there going to be efforts to deradicalize people who are antisemitic? What is going to be done?

Obligatory not all arabs are antisemitic and I am also an arab jew so I better not see any anti arab racism as A) its bad in general but also B) you're being racist to me too - you can critique antisemitism which is ingrained in certain arab and Islamic cultured without veering into Islamophobia or anti arab racism and critiquing antisemitism in certain arab and Islamic cultures isn't inherently Islamophobic or racist.

[queenburd]

I write this post with the caveat that I was into TSP and TSPUD before discovering Cl0ck 0ut and I never joined any servers around it, so the impact to me is extremely minimal compared to many others who were heavily inspired by it. I recognize that while it's sickening to me, it's even harder for the people who joined the TSP fandom because of Cl0ck 0ut.

I'm also extremely on the fringes of the fandom in general, I've never gone out of my way to interact with people who are more well-known for their narrator designs. I don't know that this post is going to reach its intended audience that much.

With all that aside, I really want to tell the people who are extremely hurt and reeling and sick to their stomach something that I think is pretty important:

You may have been introduced to TSP from watching Cl0ck 0ut, and it may have inspired you, but it is not the thing that kept you here interested in the game. You're in this fandom because you found like-minded people, maybe through the animation sure, and continued to make connections beyond that surface-level one.

Look, I've been here before. I'm not old, but I'm in my late twenties now and I've been in fandom circles for nearly 2 decades. There were inevitably times where the fanbase learned bad things about the creator, or a specific "big time" fan whose works they liked. It does suck, it does hurt, you're more than allowed to feel betrayed and sick and stressed.

A lot of what got me through it was having other people to talk to, who understood because they were also going through it. They understood because they were in that same fandom with me, we had met through it. The thing that mattered was that I had friends I had made beyond a superficial initial connection.

You made bonds. You created things (headcanons, art, stories, theories) with other people, and you still enjoyed the initial thing, yeah, but you enjoy it more because of the extra layers of connection that it led you to! But remember, please remember, that while it was a jumping off point, and you might attach a lot of value to it for that, it didn't do the work. You and other people did that. And that's the real valuable thing. That doesn't have to be stained with the bad feelings, I promise. It can and has evolved past the initial connection.

It's gonna sting for a while. That's understandable. If you need to take a break from creating, no one can blame you. But keep your connections with other people. Keep your friends.

(And if you made things that were directly inspired by Cl0ck 0ut designs or initial story, I can understand if you're feeling extremely uncomfortable with making more of it. I have a couple fanfics I was reading that were based off it.

At the end of the day, do what makes you most comfortable, even if that includes putting it down and never picaking it up again; but know that people liked what you were making, again, not because it was Cl0ck 0ut based, but because you were doing interesting and unique things with the premise. That's what fandom does with any media, and the story you were crafting does not, I think, need to be wholly discarded despite its premise having...'issues'.)

[midnight-mourning]

*Taps mic* Heard y'all like Moon around here, you're in luck, this one's for you

massive, MASSIVE thank you to @lunarmoves for beta-reading this chapter!!

She put a lot of time and effort into making my BS readable for y'all and it's greatly appreciated <3 <3 <3

Shay also makes really good dca stuff (also sebastian solace but I know very little about the fish tbh) and you should check her out!

Also, happy 200k+!!! We're only 297k from truly becoming the 500k enemies to lovers slowburn of our dreams lmaoooo

But for real I apologize for such a delay with this one. If you'd like to hear my excuses/reasoning they're below the cut, or you can just go read the chapter whatever suits ya ^-^

Tag list (if you would like added please see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

CW: medical stuff & additionally a bit of unreality mentions

Okay going to try and keep this simple bc I've said parts of it before

So as most of you know, I've been sick for 3 months now

I've now been on two rounds of steroids, and currently on my third round of antibiotics, which are basically keep me fucntional, not improving

besides general discomfort and pain, my memory has been pretty shot at times, I will go through the day and barely remember what I did/what I'm doing/what I need to do

as someone who had brain fog caused by covid a few years ago, this was genuinely a scary experience because ultimately, this has been worse

i've felt out of control of my body, having times where I'm mid thought and then instantly lose it

this is not my normal, I usually pride myself on my memory, so losing it has been incredibly devastating and scary

this was not helped by the fact that the quick care I went to (THREE TIMES for this) basically kind of sort of tried to gaslight me into believing nothing could be done and that it's not an infection

so not only has this entire thing has gotten dragged out so much more, which makes me sad tbh, but I've also felt like I've been going crazy bc it felt like no one was believing me when i said I was sick and not getting any better (including friends, family, coworkers etc, though unintentional on their parts to be fair)

I feel like I've lost three months of my life and coming to terms with that has been, yeah

on top of all that, I'm still in school AND doing grad stuff, and while the school side of things has been okay (thank god), grad's had it's moments, won't get into it but have had multiple issues with my advisor that have been at times just really tough to deal with

Confused spirit got pushed to the back burner, because i quite literally at times could not think, and when it comes to this fic, where there's multiple ongoing plot threads, characterizations, lore, and so on to keep track of, it was just, impossible to me to even consider writing for it

having shorter stuff like promptober, the oneshots and such was great to keep me writing, and also still interact with everyone in the community, plus i had a lot of fun with them so that helped too

this is all to say that I do sincerly apologize for the delay, and at the very least I should've clearly communicated about there being a hiatus, when this all started I thought i'd be down for two weeks max, then as that time kept increasing I just kept putting it off and putting it off because i thought i was going to get better, and then I didn't

I do this for fun and for nothing else, fic writing isn't content (it's engaging with fandom) and i have to remind myself of that sometimes but given that I've been around in some capacity on and off I feel I should've said something in some regard

Having said all that, I'm doing okay now! Still sick, but as long as I'm on meds I'm functional, stuff is getting managable with grad, and hopefully have some fun things coming up irl! Point is, the last three months haven't been the best, but they've been alright, due in part to all the support you all have given me, so thank you for that, can't say it enough :)

Okay, I think that just about covers it, thank you for taking the time to read all of this if you did <3

[eowynstwin]

I've come to the last thing I'd like to talk about, and unlike the rest it's something I've already made progress working through. I want to try keep this subject brief, because 1) it's taken a LOT out of me to get through all this and 2) even so, it's helped, and I'm ready to move on. I just don't want to leave anything important to me unaddressed.

So, I mentioned that when I returned to this blog, it felt like everyone had moved on from the Myka issue. I didn't see the same kind of support when I came back as I did when I left—and maybe it seems presumptive of me, but I had been expecting it. There was precedent, after all.

And I'll be honest—it took pretty much all the wind out of my sails. It kind of felt like it didn't matter if I was here or not—like, outside of the Myka issue, I hadn't actually made enough of an impression on anyone, with my own work or my support for others', for them to really care if I came back. Which, considering how many people were there for me when I left, I believed I had. That belief felt pretty misplaced after that. And to put it mildly, that did not feel good.

At the same time—and I've already talked about this in the past, so I don't want to retread old ground too much—I noticed a drop in engagement with the new work I posted. I understand now that that involved a lot of factors—my long absence, the change in my url, general fandom trends—but because it happened around the same time as my return, it compounded that feeling of my irrelevance.

So as I’ve been writing this whole time, and posting, I’ve lived with this undercurrent of god I hope this is good enough for them to care about me again. I felt like I had never actually been good enough for anyone to think of me outside of the Myka incident. I couldn't enjoy my own work without thinking none of this was ever good enough. I got to the point where I couldn't enjoy other people's work without thinking everyone likes them, but they don't like me.

Now, obviously this is unhealthy. It's also patently untrue, as demonstrated by the support I and my work have been given in the months following my return.

A part of me kind of cringes to discuss this at all, because it feels unfair to the people who've offered that support—I don't want anyone to feel like I haven't appreciated it, because I have. But I lay all this out to lead to the conclusion I've come to, which I want to share, because it feels like the gateway into finally leaving Myka, and all of these things I've been feeling, behind for good.

I've talked to friends since then, gotten context, and I've evaluated my tenure as a whole in this community in effort to understand.

The thing at the core of this issue is that my confidence was shaken. Both by the incident itself, and everything that followed it.

While it was happening, I was under a microscope, and found inadequate. I couldn't talk about it, because that would only make things worse for me. When I came back, I felt like I was still under the microscope, and I still couldn't talk about it—and in addition, it seemed like I had earn my place here again.

Feeling like that has made it really, really hard to enjoy being here. But I know that feeling isn't entirely rational. And if I don't want to feel that way anymore, I have to let myself say the things I need to say and make the things I want to make, and I have to let myself enjoy doing it.

I want to be here. Despite everything, I still belong here, even if I don't feel like I do. I've been so afraid to talk about Myka all this time, really, because I didn't think any of you wanted to hear about it. I thought it would drive you away.

But I've talked about it now. And you've all listened. So that means I'm allowed feel confident about everything else.

Thank you.

[ladylilithprime]

.....I have a lot of books that I've read, but I would hesitate to recommend them even where the authors have not to my knowledge done anything to warrant expulsion from the Good Writer Club on grounds that have nothing to do with writing. Especially on tumblr. Especially when at least two writers I devoured the works of have controversies in their personal lives that have caused many people to shun their works out of a sense of betrayal or just an overdeveloped desire for a social justice crusade. (Not getting into that up here, I've got a whole rant about the need for nuance and critical thinking and that's not the point at present.)

That said.

I did read the Harry Potter books until the fifth one when Rowling apparently fired her editor and started turning her books into more useful bludgeoning weapons. The movies were easier for me to sit through, though the adaptions changed things.

I tried to read Twilight and only got about a page and a half into the first book before I had to put it down from boredom. Again, the movie was easier for me to sit through (lack of first person narrative helped here) and I still haven't seen the others in the series.

I have never even picked up a book by Sarah J Maas, so I can't say anything about the quality of the writing from the perspective of me as a reader.

I haven't heard of any of the others, though I'm at least aware of Robert Jordan, much the way I'm aware of James Patterson.

The books I did read and devour?

The Brainship series and the Pern Chronicles by Anne McCaffrey (requiescat in pacem).

The Xanth series by Piers Anthony.

The Elvenbane and Elvenblood by Andre Norton and Mercedes Lackey.

Pretty much anything by Mercedes Lackey.

The Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C Wrede.

The Young Wizards series by Diane Duane.

The first three quartets in the Tortall universe by Tamora Pierce, though my appetite slowed after "Squire". (Not specifically a detractor to the later books, just where my own personal interest began to falter.)

The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley (yes I'm now aware of the issues surrounding her personally, but I wasn't when I read the book).

Pretty much everything by Terry Pratchett...

...which led me to his Good Omens co-author and various books he wrote. (Again with the timing of awareness, not getting into it here, see comments above.)

The Animorphs series by KA Applegate. (Tried to get into the Everworld series, didn't enjoy it as much.)

Kushiel's Dart by Jacqueline Carey (slow-going because I do have to be in a specific headspace to read that much BDSM porn, even when it's well-written and plot-relevant).

My partner loves the books by Lois McMaster Bujold and has read excerpts to me many times, which are quite entertaining.

I read Redwall by Brian Jacques and a couple others in the series, but found them more entertaining when I thought they were just talking animals.

So.

I'm currently sitting in a room surrounded by books because my family are all avid readers on a wide variety of genres. A lot of the books I'm staring at are not ones I would choose to read, and I've never been pressured to read them. My mum (just turned 80) has read many of them, usually right along with me. My dad (now 78) has read many of the same books as well as the rest she hasn't, and he's disagreed with many of them and written journals filled with notes and arguments on many of them. He was once given a book by an acquaintance who told him she thought he should read it because she knew he was a logical thinker (he did read it and told me later that the book was not at all logical; not having read it, I can't say either way).

Point is... go find a library and look through the stacks. Read the blurbs on the inside covers, maybe read a page or two. If you like it, keep reading. Look up the author on your phone if you have to in order to see what else they wrote.

And if you don't like the book, then just don't keep reading. Put it down, move on to another one. Don't go looking for controversy or dirt to justify not liking the book or the author. Don't do it to justify liking them, either. You do not need to justify your personal preferences. You can be aware of the politics the author has, even heartily disagree with their perspective and biases, and still enjoy reading a book. It's perfectly okay not to internalize what you read every time.

Otherwise, I wouldn't still reread The Chronicles of Narnia.

J. K. Rowling gave us facist Wizards.

Stephanie Meyer gave us Mormon Vampires.

And Sarah J. Maas gave us zionist Faeries.

The Holy Trinity of Mediocre White Women ruining fantasy for everyone!

[hispanthicc]

Sex As A Guy Who Got Fat On Purpose

I like sex. I enjoy sex a lot. I haven't always "gotten off" during sex but that wasn't really a priority for me because I just liked the act of doing it. I think mostly I enjoyed getting my partner off. I used to have a lot of sex, or at least a lot in comparison to now, but since i've gained weight I haven't had much sex or any at all really.

I didn't realize how much this lack of sex was affecting me. I think having sex and being able to find people to have sex with me made me feel attractive. So the lack of it has made me feel unattractive, at least to locals. Online people seem to still find me attractive. I know that just because I haven't had it doesn't mean that I am unattractive. I know there are also a lot of factors that play into it. Anyways I went from having it regularly to not having it at all.

Gaining is hard for me so for the first few years of me trying to get fat on purpose I was basically just skinny, toned, and had a slightly rounded tummy which would completely disappear if I flexed. I could pass as skinny for a while. Then COVID hit and my physical activity levels became non existent. I very quickly went from being stuck at 130 lbs all the way to 220 lbs at my highest during 2020-2021. I also had a serious surgery which meant I couldn't do anything for about a year. So I got pretty chunky for a bit. then I lost like 40 lbs after going through a break up. which btw was not a sexual relationship, and I think that also affected me a lot in a negative way. Especially because of some of the things he said in the end which made me feel really unattractive.

I'm not really the type of guy that chases anyone or initiates anything and this has nothing to do with my weight because i've never pursued anyone that isn't already pursuing me. I am really shy and the very few times i've tried, i've been rejected. So I don't. This usually just leads to me talking to a bunch of guys that i'm not attracted to which definitely doesn't lead to sex.

I used to be really open sexually. i've found thing i've written and posted from years ago that I would probably be too shy or too embarrassed to say now. But being with my ex he kinda made me feel a lot of shame for the things that I liked sexually or was attracted to. Since then I find it hard to connect with people sexually.

I think i'm also afraid that if I am too open sexually it'll attract the wrong kinds of people, which is something I unfortunately have experience with.

Most of the guys that are attracted to me are usually not locals and unfortunately means that a lot of the communication is all talk. They usually want me to send nudes or they want to send me nudes and sometimes looking is nice but I am not always in the mood to take pics for someone especially when they're probably just gonna disappear when they cum. Online sexual communication doesn't really do it for me. I want it in real life, the online barrier is frustrating and it honestly feels no different than jerking off to porn, which is fine but the real thing is so much better. There seems to be a lack of a real personal connection with it and it feels like i'm like mentally turned off by it. I never ask for nudes because I don't want anyone asking me for nudes. I genuinely hate when I’m talking to someone and they're so nice at first and then they say "Can I see more of you" because then it feels like they didn't mean any of the compliments they were just trying to soften me up to get nudes out of me. I usually only send stuff like that to friends.

It also seems like guys are more focused on what they want instead of what I want and many of them say things like "I want to do this to you" and never "would you like it if I did this to you" which maybe isn't that big of a deal but it comes across as less caring,

I don't know how I appear to others but I would say currently I look pretty chubby all over and I don't think I would be mistaken for skinny even when I suck in. Sometimes I shock myself when I see my reflection or see a pic someone else took. My body is bigger all over and it's still very new to me to actually be a fat guy. I like the way I look and I like the way being fat feels. I feel sexually aroused by it and I keep trying to make myself bigger and bigger but I know that isn't a common thing for people to be into IRL. So it's kinda like "do I lose weight so that I can be physically appealing enough to have sex irl" or do I just keep gaining cuz it makes me happier in general even if it is killing my sex life. I also think about how a lot of people in the gainer community are Asexual-ish or their sexuality is so tied to the fat that if I did lose weight i'd probably lose the affection of those people too. So many times I see "so-and-so lost weight and now I’m not attracted to them anymore" which is extremely hurtful even if it doesn't apply to me at the moment.

I wish I wasn't so shy but I’m not sure that it would matter. I feel like everyone has an idea of what they want in a partner (sexually or romantically) and I’m not sure that I fit, no pun intended, what people want where I live, and I hate knowing that eventually i'll probably have to move just to find someone.

I also know that my tragic dating life and non existent sex life are my fault. I'm not an easy person to get close to or be with but I’m trying to learn how let people in and be the best I can be for someone whenever I do actually connect.

[red-carter]

Giving Thanks

Now, I've seen my friends and their posts and replying. I wanted to make my own because I know that this one is going to be pretty long. At least, I have an idea that it's going to be pretty long. I won't be able to tag everyone, seeing as I don't know everyone's tumblrs and such like that. There's also going to be some not tags because I'd be too scared to actually tag these people.

I'm so very very thankful for everyone who's come into my life in the last year. I'm thankful to those who've been in my life for several years. My bestest sibs who won't likely see this for the many years that I've been with them, since first grade, middle school, beginning of high school and everyone in between. Those who I call family (not blood related), because you, and everyone I'm about to mention, have helped me in so many ways. As well as just because I'm so happy to have met you. Even if this is just for a season, long or short, I'm so glad to have made the friends and family that I've come across. Who've just been chill, or been there for us.

Thank you @imaginethat0327 for being an inspiration and being the person who helped me step out of my scared and anxious lil bubble I'd created around myself. You're such a lovely person, and I really look forward to our talks, no matter how long apart they are from the last one. Also big thanks to Livie because they've also been such a joy to have met and chat with. Always look forward to our chats <3 Through them I've also met @nyxcentury who's just as lovely. Though we've not talked too much, always love seeing you around. Same goes with Tipthewaitress (dunno their tumblr, so I hope that they see this), and the other lovelies of the Rescue Fire discord server.

@cat-in-the-desert .... I... There's so many things I'm thankful for from you. I'm so thankful that we got to meet, and that you've been such a wonderful friend to the point I consider you one of my closest friends. Genuinely. You're such a lovely person, always looking forward to our chats and hangouts <3

Really quickly, I'm so thankful to have come across @\nightdreamdraws art and animatics, and her AUs... They're so cool and I always look forward to any new art or ideas that they share. Cherrifire with seeing her creative take on the life series, and the amazing things they've done in this community. Magnifique! (Wish I could properly spell that word, apologies if it's wrong, or has no accents, I'm just trying to be wholesome here.... :)) There's so many others, their animatics, art, animations, edits, that I'm so thankful that I've gotten to see because everyone is amazing! I swear-!!! <3 <3 <3 <3

@ezzriin stares and blinks with an ever growing smile You're a lovely lil guy that I'm so grateful to have met. I wanna squish you /pos. I might have to DM you another paragraph I swear— So lovely, and a wonderful chaotic gremlin that I hold dear in my heart.

@foxhunter350 I would write a full paragraph if I could right now, but I'm trying to keep these short.... I'm thankful to have met you. Getting to write ideas and such with you has been such a blast, looking forward to more with you mate. So very grateful to have you in my life. /gen

@nine-of-diamonds, @1watermelontea, @crabbri stares blankly at you three You're all so amazing, I'm thankful that I came across Chasing The Horizon Line and got to meet you. The butterfly affect is something I think about constantly, and so thankful for in this situation. The chaos and fun that we've all had, I cherish it with my whole heart. Thank you for the amazing series to read and the fun times we've had and will have in the future. (please leave me out of this big ass polycule, not professing my love to you lot just yet, again.... /vsilly)

@writingwithaglassquill Quilly, Eilly, my beautiful darling of a muse? /silly /lh /p Lmao, sorry, that was a weird way to start this. I'm thankful to you, and I know I've told you this many times, but I'm forever grateful for coming across your story IHTH because it really gave me the urge to want to write again. You've done so much, you're a fabulous person, and I'm so glad to have met someone like you. A steady head to keep me from just completely sinking. (this is me professing my love /vsilly /j /p) Genuinely so thankful to have met you when I did, looking forward to the future ahead.

@gildedmicah18 Meka-Meka... Darling Micah. /vsilly /lh /p You're such a wonderful person to chat with, always looking forward to our chats. Thankful to have you in my life you amazing cutie you! (Really really wanna squish you and also may or may not see you as a little sibling.)

@nyxtheeclipse Hai. You're a cutie. <3 .... Yes, I was tempted to just leave it at that. My bad XD Anywooooo!~ Thankful to you Nyx for everything you've done. You're an amazing person, love you lots mate! Very creative, and always looking forward to what you make and share!

@yourfavouritevigilante (hoping this tags.... it's being funky) You're such a lovely individual, along with your system. We all love you. You're all like siblings to us and we're so very very thankful to have met you Tobes. Genuinely, we're always looking forward to getting to chat or hang out with you lot. So fun to joke with, or pick fun with each other or stopping fights (like earlier XD). Genuinely though, and I may say this far too much, we love you so very much. See you like a little sibling for reals. Or child, depending on if it's us, or Impy, Skizzy, and Jess. So grateful to have gotten to know you and hang out with you lots, squishing you all. (except those who don't like getting hugs which is a-okay)

@peridot-the-kitten .... Okay, I genuinely forgot the words I was going to start off with XD. I love that I've just confused you in CTHL hahahahah. I'm so thankful to have met you Lain. You're a lovely and creative individual that now? I can't believe you scared me before XD. Grateful to have met you, and gotten to know you. So many jokes and fun has been had, and you've been a wonderful grounding point in lots of stuff that's happened as well. Always looking forward to our chats and hangout sesses.... sessions.... Love you lots!!! (totally professing my love /vsilly /j /p)

@moonstarsongs You're a darling sweetheart of an angst lover. You've been such a wonderful friend and lovely individual to chat with. So very thankful to have met you and that I get to chat with you whenever we can (since different time schedules and whatnot). <3 <3 <3

@archaic-dragon You're very lovely, so glad that we've gotten to chat and whatnot. Seriously, so very thankful. You're amazing, got so much creativity, it's been wonderful to get to hang out and whatnot. Always looking forward to chats with you or gaming and such. Thank you Arcy!

@will-falling-fell Haven't chatted with you too much, at least that I'm thinking back on. But you're a sweetheart from what I can remember. I see you chatting with the others in CTHL and stuff, and it always brings a smile to our face. Grateful to have met you, even if we don't talk much right now, hoping to get to chat with you more in the future. <3 <3 <3 <3

@tinydekuscrub Hai darling! Love you lots. So very grateful to have met you. Pretty sure I say this almost anytime we chat really. You're a lovely person, and we love chatting with you and everyone else. Thanks for dealing with our smart and dumbass XD, and looking forward to all future chats and hangouts. (Guys, I swear, I'm too gay for this person, I really really wanna write more XD)

There's still many more people I could write out thanks for, but for now, I think it's best that this be it for a bit. Again, thank you to everyone who we've gotten to meet, who's given us ideas, given us new life and fun things to look forward to. Lots of good times in the future. Here's to another year of fun and laughter and even in the not-so-good-times, love you all so much!

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i've been thinking about this one again a LOT so:

Eddie never said anything about the letters.

Not that Wayne wanted him to, just a fact of the matter.

And consequently, Wayne forgot about them until about five years later.

He's older now, so's Eddie. Along with the added years of experience came the fame. The billboards, the charts, the money, all that good stuff.

His nephew, no, his son was thriving, loving every minute. One album under his belt and another on it's way.

The final show of this tour wound up in Indianapolis, so Wayne made the trek north to see Eddie for the first time in about three years at that point, getting ushered back stage as soon as his ticket was scanned ("You ain't payin' for shit, boy. Lemme support you how I can.").

"Right through here, Mr. Munson." The stagehand gestures him forward through a door and he's immediately accosted by a flying head of curls.

"Jesus Christ Ed, I ain't as spry as a use'ta be!" he complains, grabbing the kid up in a hug.

"I know," he says over Wayne's shoulder, "Jeff only just convinced me not to jump."

"And for that, I thank 'im." Wayne lets him go, looking around the room. "Nice place y'got here. A bit small, but it's nice."

Eddie rolls his eyes, "Ha Ha Ha."

They spend a good half hour catching up on things, then, after the same stagehand gives them the "Five minutes Mr. Munson." warning, Wayne finds himself in the wings in front of an absolutely jam-packed stadium.

Now he loves his nephew, don't get him wrong, but his music was never much Wayne's speed. Charlie Daniels, Dolly, Clarence Clearwater? absolutely. Eddie's deafening guitar and pyrotechnics? ... well, he loves the kid...

All this to say that even knowing how well Eddie's done for himself now, how well his album sold, how many people are here, it surprises the hell outta him when the entirety of the sold out show screams for an encore Eddie says "isn't like anything you just heard, but it's pretty important to me if you care to stay."

Jeff comes off the stage, gestures for Wayne to take off his construction-grade noise cancelling headphones, and says "You'll wanna hear this one."

Wayne shrugs, passes the headphones to the first person that reaches for them, then turns his attention back to the stage as Eddie gets comfortable on a stool without his beloved sweetheart.

"Yeah, I know right? Far cry from my baby, huh?" he laughs, showing off the acoustic in his arms to the whole place.

It's only when he shows the thing to Wayne's side of the throng that he can see the flash of white on the black face.

It's his acoustic. His as in Wayne's before, his as in it's Eddie's now, the one that's had 'This machine slays dragons' scrawled onto it for a couple decades now at this point.

Wayne's heart swells at the sight.

"Now, like I said, this is nowhere near the show you came for, but I've got a special someone here tonight and this song is for them." Teasing oohs and wolf whistles sound across the crowd as Eddie nods, "Mmhm, mhmm, that's correct, my Uncle's here tonight."

The gathered masses howl with laughter at that and Wayne can't help but join in.

"So, to preface this, I left home with a stick up my ass about how no one understood me in my tiny hometown, not that far from here, actually, and my dear Uncle Wayne just nodded at me, let me bitch and complain, and said 'See ya.'."

More laughter echoes up at him.

"Come to find out, he'd been saving me money for years before that, for just such an occasion. Do you wanna know when I found this out?" he nods sagely at the noisy response, "Yep, correct, I found out a month ago when I finally went through that one box that'd been haunting the back of my closet."

Eddie looks back to where Wayne is standing out of sight, "You couldn't have said something? There was a whole grand in that envelope!"

He grins as the crowd jeers and playfully boos along with Eddie, then just shrugs at his nephew.

Eddie rolls his head around as he turns back to the crowd. "Anyway, Wayne, this one's for you."

To say the song was not at all what Wayne expected would be an understatement. The one of the century.

He expected a few alternating chords and more jokes on his behalf that he'd have to rib Eddie for later or something of the sort.

No chance in hell he'd ever expect this.

Nor did he think he'd get all misty-eyed.

Wayne recognizes some of the things he'd written into the letters, some things he's sure he'd told Eddie in the first couple years of him living with him...

When the song is over, the people there for his nephew cheer sky high for him. Chant Wayne's name until he makes his appearance, striding out under the lights to hug his son in front of everyone else who loves him.

(and then eddie sends him all the copies of the magazines and papers the picture of them hugging on stage in front of thousands gets printed in. the one that makes it into a frame and onto the wall, however, is a clipping that says Eddie Munson plays heartfelt ballad for his Uncle, Wayne Munson, who (according to one fan present at the show) "looks exactly like I thought he would.".)

more munsons | my ko-fi | my other works

you're gonna go far

eddie & wayne picture fic based on this post

(long post ahead, but bear with me)

4/10/1984 Eddie,  I’m starting this letter after you came home with the letter from the school saying you’re not graduating this year.  I could tell you didn’t believe me when I told you it’ll be alright, that it’ll all work out in the end. That it did for me when I had the same talk with my pa.. but you eventually stepped back from the edge, I think, you’re in your room now. There was something else there too, which is really why I'm writing this now. You have the same look in your eye that I saw in my own reflection long before I got drafted, the look I saw in your dad’s when Lizzie told us she was pregnant.  You’re already planning your escape.  And I won’t hold it against you when you do kick rocks, I just pray you give me a little warning so I can say goodbye. And I ain’t a praying man. I’m tucking away some cash with this for when you go. Don’t have much, but I have you. And I wanna make sure you have the best start you possibly can.

10/11/1984 It’s been rough for you again. Working at Merrill’s has been good for you. Getting fresh air, sunshine, shit, even your gangly noodles you call arms are looking less noodley. But they just sent you home early today.. something wrong with the crop and they won’t need the extra hands this season. That, starting school again, even Ronnie leaving last week.. I know you two kids were close. You ain’t even getting all excited for halloween! Adding some more cash for you, little more than I could last time.  Just hang in there kiddo. 

6/5/1985 I think you think you don’t know, and I’m willing to let you pretend for a little while longer, but shit, Eddie, you think I wouldn’t know when graduation was supposed to be just because you weren’t the one to tell me? You know I won’t be mad at you. If you don’t say anything for another week, I will. 6/7/1985 - There it is.

7/22/1985 I was able to talk you down again that night, and you ‘re getting back to your old self again. I still can’t believe you had your whole room all packed up like that. I’ll give ya that speech all over again as many times as you need, but I’ll write it down here for you: You’re gonna go far, Eddie. You’re gonna tear outta here next year and you’re gonna knock ‘em all dead. You are so talented, you are much more than any of us Munsons have ever been or will ever be, and you’re gonna be the biggest star in the world. You mark my words. And I know you’re gonna fight leavin’ when the time comes, thinking you need to take care of me or some crap but I promise you: The birds’ll still sing, the trailer will still creak, the leaves will die and fall like they do every year, but I’ll be here whenever you need to come back. I’ll be here as long as you need. If that’s forever, so be it.

8/15/1985 I’m taking you up north this weekend. Just to get away, y’know? Before your LAST senior year starts. Might be cutting it a little close on funds, happens when you’re trying to survive, but we’re overdue for a change of scenery. We ain’t living just to die. Only a little going in this time, but I’ll be damned if I don’t add something along with a new note.

10/5/1986 Been a while since I added to this, huh? Well, it’s finally happening. You are leaving tomorrow and boy did you make a stink before you did. Went on a whole tirade about needing to get out of this damn town, about not being able to get anywhere when everyone except me is against you. I wanted to point out that you’ve got your band guys and that Harrington boy in your corner too, but I didn't think you’d like me interrupting your whole big speech about who it is you love and being queer and all that with a “Yeah. I know. You and Steve make moon-eyes at each other all the damn time.” I’ll make sure to pass on your info to him when I get it. He doesn’t seem like one to hold a grudge (or at least not hold it long), so I'm sure he’ll be the first in line to greet you the next time you find yourself in our neck of the woods. Those kids’ll miss you too y’know. They’ll be college age before you know it. I’m gonna pack up this envelope and stash it in your stuff somewhere I know you’ll find it again. so you can find it when you need it. Can’t believe I managed to save you close to a grand. Not enough by a long shot, but it’ll help ya for a while. Been saving for a years now, y’know..  Now Eddie. I told you all this last year, and just now before you slunk off to bed, but here it is again, just in case you need to hear it: - I’m proud of you. - I love you more than you’ll know. - You love whoever it is you want to love (as long as i’m on that list somewhere) - I’m glad you’re getting out of here when you can. And I’ll continue to be glad that you did even when things get hard. When I’m doing all the chores around here myself, when I go visit Al in county even though I know all we’re gonna do is fight… I’ll be so grateful you’re making your own way in the world far from here. I’m not angry at you, Teddy. But you’ll be the greatest thing I’ve lost. I’ll always be here if you need me. Wayne

some notes!

-i hc wayne as a military man ofc and bc of that, my own sloppy, all caps, post military handwriting is perfect for him!

-i like to think eddie thinks he's slick and wayne didn't know he liked boys until he was about to leave but wayne knows. of course he knows. al told him why he kicked eddie out, wayne just didn't think it was his place to bring it up before eddie did.

-didn't think too much farther after this, but let's just say that steddie happens when eddie comes back to hawkins in a couple years when the shitheads graduate.

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Fuck I hate being an adult. I need a more adult adult to help with the volatile emotional situation.

[chaotic-average-child]

getting back on my drawing slowly but surely ^^ here's an aleena

[buttercup-art]

hey

[keeps-ache]

streetlamps.. orange streetlamps..... <33

[yearning-gay]

feel evil recommending this but if u wanna bald later in life instead of now minoxidil and finasteride apparently do bits, and when u stop taking em u just go back to balding

i did run into those while i did some anxiety googling about this yesterday yeah shdjdks im trying not to be like. hasty about things especially when it's something like this that feels very silly to stress about but im lightly considering minoxidil in some form since you don't need a prescription for it apparently. it is a bit expensive feeling though so im hesitant to jump into it right away