#just talking to the void and trying to figure my muse out!

[ratwhsprs]

-picks Otis up-

I know you're on the Aro spectrum somewhere, but are you?? Aromantic? Demiromantic?? Grayromantic???

[ckret2]

Chapter 40 of human Bill Cipher, in spite of his fondest hopes, still being stuck in the Mystery Shack:

As much as Gideon wants out of the evil magic game, the survival of his father's used car dealership rides on Gideon's help.

And, relatedly, Bill's started receiving psychic car commercials.

1981

Ford had been in his study for what felt like forever, staring at the pile of papers and numbers on his desk, trying to stop the figures from shifting and swimming before his eyes; when something from behind him lit up the dim room with golden light and he a heard a familiar voice behind his shoulder—

"Heeey, Stanford! You've been having a lot of dreams about tax forms lately, what gives?"

Ford was startled out of his thoughts. He turned around, smiling in relief. "Oh, Bill! Hello." Apparently he was dreaming. Thank goodness. It explained why he couldn't seem to get these forms to make sense. "How long have you been watching me?"

"About twenty years."

"What?"

"About twenty minutes," Bill said. "I wasn't going to bug you tonight, but usually your dreams are a little more adventurous! You're starting to worry me, kid." He disintegrated the tax forms with a gesture and floated down to sit on Ford's desk, like a razor-thin glowing paperweight. It was strange to see him cross his legs. "What's on your subconscious?"

Ford hadn't thought his Muse cared that much about his day-to-day human troubles. It was comforting to know someone was worrying about him—someone so far beyond human potential that maybe Ford didn't have to worry he'd be disappointed to learn Ford was struggling a little. "It's my grant money," he sighed. "I feel like my research into Gravity Falls is nowhere near completion, but that money will only last for so long. It won't be long before I'll need to ask for more funding, and I'll have a hard time convincing anyone if I don't have anything to show for it, but I don't want to share incomplete research..."

"Ah, money. The second-worst curse human society's ever inflicted on itself."

"What's the worst one?"

"Marriage."

Ford barked a laugh. It wasn't even that funny a joke; it was just such unexpectedly human cynicism for such an otherworldly entity. It sounded like a joke Ford's dad would make.

"Well, money. What to do..." Bill drummed his fingers on Ford's desk, gazing off into the distance as he thought. Ford realized that, at some point while he was distracted, most of his study had vanished, leaving his desk and chair sitting precariously atop a faint gridded plane in the starry blue void where he usually met Bill. Finally, Bill said, "Have you considered buying gold?"

He hadn't. "Will it help?"

"Sure it will! Eventually!"

"In time to help pay my mortgage?"

"Hmm." Bill thought a moment longer, then snapped his fingers. "Got an idea." He floated off of Ford's desk to eye level, strange sigils appearing in white-blue light around him. "Do you happen to know where the people who decide your funding live?"

"Er... the general area." It had to be near the Backupsmore campus, didn't it?

"Then I might be able to help you!" The symbols solidified around Bill. "I know a little spell to help persuade people. It'll let you plant ideas in their dreams—give 'em a little subliminal nudge. It could make some bigwigs come around on the importance of the research you're doing out here."

A fascinating concept. Ford studied the sigils greedily. He didn't recognize them, but they looked fairly simple. "You're not... talking about mind control?"

"Nah, that's not in my wheelhouse. It'll just let you... talk to them! Like I talk to you! I'm not controlling you, am I?" His eye curved up in a facsimile of a smile. "But you'll find most people have a harder time ignoring you when you're talking to them inside their own heads. What they do with that when they wake up is up to them. Just think of it as a way to schedule an interview where you'll have their undivided attention."

Ford pressed his lips together as he thought; then shook his head. "Thank you, Bill, but no. I wouldn't feel right earning money that way. I'd rather know they were impressed by the scientific and historical value of my work—and if I use magic, I'll never know for sure if they really thought my work measured up."

Bill laughed. "That's what I like about you, Stanford! You really shoot for the stars—and you've got the work ethic to get there! You don't want the fame and fortune unless you earn it!"

Ford was momentarily taken aback. It was rare that his muse openly complimented him; on most nights he dealt with Ford with a sort of cool, detached fondness, something a little too distant to be real affection. When he did voice his approval, it was like the sun coming out after a month of cloud cover. There were nights, when Ford was really feeling his isolation in these woods and he'd half convinced himself all his years of research had been a waste of time, when he was half willing to chase that sunshine to the ends of the earth.

"You'll do whatever it takes to finish your research, won't you?" Bill asked.

Ford gave Bill an awkward, self-conscious smile. "Of course I will. How could I not?"

"Hey, not everyone has your ambition! Most people take the easy way to the top. Cheating, copying, riding on greater men's coattails... Some guys earn the dough to buy their gold, others just want to dig for someone else's." Bill spread his hands in a shrug. "Well, it was an idea." The sigils started to fade.

Ford raised a hand. "Hold on. I don't want to use it, but... do you think I could learn that spell anyway?" He smiled hopefully. "For research?"

"For fun?"

"For fun."

Bill laughed. "I was waiting for you to ask!" The sigils reappeared, and next to them appeared an incantation. "All right, I'll walk you through it. Pay attention, I don't think you've got enough time to go over it twice this REM cycle."

Ford nodded, focusing fully on Bill, determined to remember the spell well enough to record it in Journal 2 when he woke up.

####

Spring, 2013

Tentatively, Bud Gleeful said, "Son... now, I know you lost that spooky grimoire of yours. But... don't you have anything left that might help out the dealership?"

Gideon growled in irritation. "I told you, father! Everything I knew was in Journal 2! It's gone! Anyway, I'm just trying to be a normal kid now. I don't want to get mixed up in any more magic. I'm through with it."

"I understand," Bud said, nodding. "And I think that's mighty admirable of you, turning over a new leaf like that. Shows real maturity." He hesitated, wringing his hands together. He pre-emptively winced and said, "But it's just that... business hasn't exactly been booming, ever since your little tenure as Bill's sheriff. And you know I love the fellas you made friends with in the penitentiary, they're all such... colorful characters; but having them hang around does make folks a little wary to drive into the parking lot..."

Volume doubling, Gideon snapped, "Are you saying it's my fault?!"

"No, son, no. You know I'd never." Bud knelt down, and—cautiously, like he was trying to pet a feral cat—put a hand on Gideon's shoulder. "But, well... business is slumping, that's all. We'll be fine as long as we live within our means, don't you worry about that—but our means might not cover luxuries like those fancy suits and fine new boots you like so much, you understand."

Gideon lowered his gaze, tugging self-consciously on the sleeve of his favorite suit jacket. It was already just a little too short to be fashionable; he probably didn't have long until he outgrew it completely.

"Your mother and I are doing all we can," Bud said. "If there's anything you can do... well, you don't have to, of course. But—it'd be a mighty big help."

Gideon grit his teeth, glaring at his feet. (How long until he outgrew all his shoes? He had a growth spurt coming "any day now," he'd been told. The prospect didn't excite him.) He balled his hands into fists; and then muttered, "There... might be one spell I remember... the sigils were pretty simple..."

####

June 2013

Bill could see it in his mind's eye: if he kept pushing and pushing eventually there'd be no more room in two dimensional space for his mother to fill, and then she'd be forced to bend UP, up into the third dimension, all that open free space. Then she'd see the dark, she'd see the far points of light—

"STOP!" His mother howled in pain. He kept pushing. She was out of room. She didn't bend up. He shoved—and she splintered. Bone snapping, cartilage tearing, he could see inside her thin body as things broke and ruptured. He didn't know what to do.

And for several long, long seconds—he couldn't remember what was happening. The world seemed to bend wrong, and he couldn't remember.

At least, he couldn't have remembered a few weeks ago. He hadn't wanted to. But he'd been studying a book on lucid dreaming since then; and the first things it taught was how to remember more of his dreams. And now, he recalled exactly what happened next when he pushed his mother and she splintered and ruptured:

He pushed harder.

Her skin fractured and peeled off, strand after strand. It filled the spaces between his fingertips, wrapped up his arms. He could shut his eye but he still saw it through his eyelid, still felt it tickling at the corners of his mouth. 

"You want me to tell everyone the third dimension's full of dead shapes?! Huh?!" All he could see was blood and bone and peeling skin. "Then why don't you go find them for me!" He let out an angry, hysterical, broken laugh.

Her hand grabbed weakly at his.

He let go and jolted back, gasping—and almost retched. What had he done? He hadn't meant to. But he'd kept pushing—but it was too late by then. It was too late by then, wasn't it?

"What have you done?"

Bill whirled around to face— "Dad?"

The green trapezoid looked as sick as Bill felt, eye darting in horror across the crumpled line in the corner. He couldn't even see most of it from where he was—his eye didn't work like Bill's, he couldn't look through the mess of skin to the gore beneath.

"It was an accident," Bill whispered. (He'd kept pushing.) "It really was, I promise."

His father tore his eye from the corpse to Bill's face. "What are we going to tell your followers?"

Bill looked past his father. Through a wall so thin Bill almost couldn't see it, hundreds upon hundreds of shapes were settled, waiting—to see him. He was sure: somehow, somehow, they could see him too. They knew what he'd done. His life was over.

A thunderous voice boomed, "Whooee, what a fix! Boy, you look like you could use a getaway car, couldn't you?"

Bill blinked. He blinked again. He looked up-but-not-north.

A human in a pink Hawaiian shirt, standing on top of the universe, looked down at him.

Bill said, "What."

"Here, let me just—getcha right—" The human plunged his hand through the second dimension, scooped beneath Bill, and popped him right up off the surface of the universe. "Now, if you'll pardon my saying so, you look like you could use a little help getting somewhere far, far away from here!"

Bill stared at him. "What."

"And I've got just the thing to help you!" the human declared. "Aren't you feeling stuck? Trapped? Just can't take your obligations anymore? Miserable you can't hit the road and see all of—well—" he gestured vaguely out at the flat surface of the universe stretching into the distance "—whatever this is? Then you need to visit your buddy Bud Gleeful—(that's me)—at Gleeful's Auto Sales, the finest used car dealership in Roadkill County! We'll get you a set of wheels that'll carry you on the cross-country police-evading tour of your dreams!" He dropped his voice and murmured to Bill from behind his hand, "Warranty expires at the state line."

"What." Bill looked down at the universe—and was disappointed but not surprised to see he wasn't a triangle anymore, but a human. He looked at Bud again. "Are you advertising to me. Is this an advertisement. Am I getting advertised to in my sleep."

"And if you sign before you leave, we'll throw in a free air freshener," Bud added.

Bill stared at him in horrified amazement. "I am going to kill you," he said. "And then I'm going to wake up and kill you in real life."

"Ah, well. That's a right shame."

####

Bill shot straight up with a roar of rage. "Oh, when I get my hands on...!"

"Whoa. Bad dream?"

Bill whirled around with a murderous glare. Dipper's spirit, ghastly and pale, was hovering in the middle of the attic. Bill snapped, "You're a bad dream!" He scrambled after the spirit.

"Whoa! Hey!" Dipper tried to swoop away from Bill toward the stairs.

Bill caught him by the back of the neck. "You are going back in your bo—bed, you're getting in, and you're not getting back out."

"Ow, let go!" Dipper squirmed in Bill's grip, kicking his feet in the air. "I was just going to turn off the TV! I heard it playing an advertisement, I think that's what put me in... you know." He gestured at himself. "The sleepwalking dream."

Bill hesitated in front of the kids' door. "What advertisement?"

"I don't know, it was too far away to tell. But I know it was an advertisement, it sounded... advertise-y."

"Hmm." Bill considered that. And then he flung Dipper's soul through the door.

"HEY!"

"I'll turn off the TV," Bill said. "Go back to sleep!"

Ugh. Everything ached, his stomach was trying to turn itself inside out in an attempt to escape and go forage for food independently, and the world held a vindictive grudge against Bill personally. He trudged downstairs, muttering crabbily to himself.

He wasn't surprised to discover the TV was off.

####

"I'm conducting a survey," Bill said. "Did you hear any advertisements from the TV last night? Maybe have any dreams that might have been influenced by hearing an ad?"

"Uh..." Soos slowed at the bottom of the stairs as he thought. "Nope. Slept like a baby all night."

"Interesting." He waved at Melody to try to catch her attention. "Hey, how about you?"

"Nope!" Already dressed for work, she hurried from the stairs to the living room without even glancing Bill's way. She tended not to linger when he was nearby. He told himself he was flattered.

"Dude," Soos said, "What happened to your arm?"

Bill looked down. On the underside of his forearm were two thick lines set at an angle, burned so dark brown they were nearly black. "Leaned on the stove after someone used the burner. Oops."

"Do you need...?"

"Don't worry about it, it's already healing." Bill rolled down his hoodie's sleeves as he leaned into the kitchen, "How 'bout you, Stan? Hear any phantom ads last night?"

"Nuh-uh. But I sleep with my hearing aids out," Stan said. "The only things loud and grating enough to wake me are a car horn or your voice."

"Ha!" Bill looked from Stan's side of the table to Ford's—and Ford wasn't facing him, but he was glancing from the corner of his eye toward Bill's arms.

Bill turned away without asking anything. No point. Obviously, Ford had been too far underground to have picked up anything. Bill told himself Ford was seething at getting the cold shoulder.

"What're we talking about?" Mabel asked, coming downstairs with Dipper close behind.

Bill looked at her—and then let his gaze sweep past her with the same cold disinterest he'd favored Ford with. He brushed past her to head upstairs. "Hey, somnambulist." He shoved Dipper's hat down over his eyes as he passed. "TV was off. No one else heard anything. You dreamed your stupid ad."

"Hey." Dipper pulled his hat back up. "Jerk."

Mabel called, "Bill?"

He ignored her and kept walking.

####

"What was that all about?"

Bill was curled up in the attic window seat, flipping covetously through an issue of Gold Chains For Old Men; at the sound of Mabel's irritated voice, he merely said, "Oh, hello." He turned another page. "Here to try to make a fool of me some more?"

She planted her hands on her hips. "Bill, what are you talking about?"

"Tell me about those 'Mysteries' of yours. Did you plan your story any deeper than that? Were you going to arrange for me to catch you with a cloak and dagger just to make me wonder?"

Mabel paused. "Oh." She laughed weakly.

"So how many people were in on it, huh? Was it just you and Stanford, or did you have the whole house laughing at me behind my back?"

"It—it was just us two." She leaned on the wall by Bill's feet. "Um, so... are you actually mad?"

He shot her a venomous look, then lifted his magazine so he couldn't see her any more.

"Come on!" She poked his knee. "It was a harmless prank! And you lie to everyone all the time."

"No I don't."

"You're so sensitive."

"I am not," Bill said indignantly. "I'm proud. I have pride. And lately pride's about the only thing I have going for me. And I didn't think a friend would try to undermine it."

Mabel heaved a sigh. "Okay, all right. Sorry."

Bill lowered his magazine to peer at her skeptically. "Are you really?"

"Well, yeah." She leaned against the window seat. "It was just a joke, I don't wanna hurt your feelings."

He stared her down a moment longer, assessing her sincerity. And then he sat up and pulled her into a hug.

She squawked in surprise, but returned the embrace. "Bill! What—?"

"You're sweet, you know that, star girl?" He gave her one last squeeze and let her go. "When you aren't trying to make me look dumb. But you don't rub salt in the wounds, that's what matters."

"Pfff. I kinda think you'd try to kill me if I did."

"Mmyeah, I might." He wouldn't. Only person in this entire dull rotten world who was willing to apologize for wronging him. He wasn't giving her up easily. "Hey—did you happen to hear any commercials last night? Maybe have any dreams that might've been caused by one?"

"Nope! I had a dream about cats fighting a war against an octopus."

"Oh, that one. Did the octopus win or did the lions show up in time?"

Mabel paused. "It's always creepy when you do that. But the octopus won this time."

"Aww. That poor picturesque beach town."

"I tried to get between the octopus and the town when the cats failed."

"Did you stop it?"

Mabel shrugged. "Dunno. I woke up before it reached me."

"Too bad! But hey—you've been making big progress with your lucid dreaming. You'll get it next time!" No salesmen offering cars as war chariots for the cats, though. It was almost a pity. Bill would've liked to hear about Bud getting eaten by a giant octopus.

"So I guess Dipper was the only one who thought he heard a commercial."

Dipper and Bill. "Guess so."

####

The large, empty floor room, down the main hallway at the far end of the house, was among the few places Bill was allowed to go. Except when the humans had some big event like a dance or a museum exhibit planned, there was nothing in it but a flat old sofa, a fireplace he couldn't turn on, and Soos's electric piano taunting him. In spite of its relative isolation from the rest of the household, Bill rarely had reason to visit it.

But when he wanted space to pace and think, there was no better room.

Last night's advertisement was magic, no doubt. And he suspected he knew the exact spell. The Mystery Shack was way on the outskirts of Gravity Falls; probably nobody else here was affected because they were just out of range of the signal. The only reason Dipper had nearly picked it up was because he didn't have his thick skull in the way when his spirit was out of his body.

But Bill's psychic abilities had been heavily suppressed since he was put in this body. How was he channeling the signal so much more clearly than anyone else?

He thoughtfully ran his tongue over his new golden tooth. "Hmm."

####

Bud entered the Gleeful house flipping through a pile of mail. "Junk, junk, bills, junk... Here's your subscription, honeybunch." He held out an issue of Nervous Wrecks Weekly magazine. His wife paused her cycle of polishing the front window to stiffly take it.

"Junk, coupons... Gideon! You've got a fan letter!" He checked for a stamp indicating the tiny envelope had passed through a state correctional facility. "And it isn't even from the prison, isn't that nice!"

"Coming!" Gideon ran out of his room, snatched the letter from Bud's hand with a little grunt, ran back to his room giggling, and slammed the door.

Bud chuckled. "Joy, sweetie, you remember when that boy got so much fanmail he used to throw it out? These days he's excited for every single letter." The corners of his mouth turned down. "Suppose it's good for him, learning to appreciate the little things."

"Mhm." She looked down at the roses outside the window. She'd need to trim those soon. "I suppose it is."

In his room, Gideon studied the odd envelope. It was tiny—barely large enough for the address and the stamp, no return address—and when he turned it over he discovered lines of text printed on the paper. The flap was tucked carefully into a fold in the envelope that held it tight.

As he pulled out the flap, he realized that the envelope wasn't held together with glue; it was some sort of cleverly-folded origami craft that began to unfold in his hands as he pulled out the flap. The letter was written on the inside of the envelope. "Why—what a delightful little creation!" He sat at his dressing table to focus on unfolding the letter, careful not to damage it so he could re-fold it later.

Once he'd smoothed it out, he could see that the paper was carefully torn from a book. The outside of the envelope was made from the last page of a chapter, with only a few lines of text at the top of the page and the rest left conveniently blank. It talked about telling the difference between waking and dreaming.

He turned the page over to read the letter.

GIDEON–

IT'S ADORABLE THAT YOU'RE USING A DREAM COUNTERFEITING SPELL FOR CAPITALISM! I BET YOUR PARENTS ARE PROUD! HOWEVER, MY FILLINGS ARE PICKING UP AUTO DEALERSHIP ADS ALL NIGHT. IT'S REALLY ANNOYING. CUT IT OUT.

In place of a signature, there was a triangle with an eye.

Gideon's blood ran cold.

He read the letter again, then studied the words themselves. He didn't recognize the tall, thin, crooked handwriting. He flipped over the envelope. No return address. He noticed for the first time that the letter wasn't addressed to "Gideon". It said "STAR BOY". Fan mail. Right.

The postmark was from Gravity Falls.

"It can't be Bill," Gideon muttered to himself. "Bill's dead. It's got to be some prankster with a twisted sense of humor..."

But then, how could some prankster know he was doing dream magic? Did anyone else even know that Bill had called him "Star Boy"?

No. It had to be a prankster. If Bill were alive, he'd be doing much worse than sending letters and complaining about fillings.

He crumpled up the letter and threw it away. His father's business needed Gideon to do whatever he could to help. Gideon's own financial future depended on it. He wasn't about to let some prankster stop him.

####

There was a rumble of several motorcycles and a revving car engine outside the Gleeful house, disturbing the late evening still. Gideon came in the front door wearing a little backpack, waving behind himself as he came in. "Thanks for the ride, Ghost-Eyes! Good talk today! I'll see y'all this weekend for brunch!" He shut the door as the engines receded into the distance.

"Welcome home, son," Bud said from the couch. "How were the ex-convicts this week?"

"Oh, great, just great. Graybeard's daughter is gonna let him meet his grandson and Spiderwebs got a new job."

"Oh, that's wonderful to hear. I know you were real concerned for Spiderwebs."

"I shouldn't have worried! He got work at an alpaca ranch on the other side of town, did you know there's an alpaca ranch 'round here?"

"Can't say I did!"

"I think it's a good fit for him. Being out in nature calms him down."

An uneasy silence fell over the room as they waited a polite amount of time to change the topic. In the kitchen, Joy cleaned the same dish for the third time.

Bud cleared his throat. "Well, uh—you know, it's been a couple of days since we've run a 'nighttime ad.' Do you think it's a good time to...?"

Gideon squeezed his backpack's straps. He could still see that spindly text reading "STAR BOY". "Do you think? I don't want to put 'em too close together, folks might notice..."

Bud grimaced. "It can't hurt. It's been almost two weeks since I sold a car."

Gideon scowled. But he nodded. "Yeah, all right. I'll go set up."

"You know how much your mother and I appreciate it," Bud said. "I'll go heat up dinner."

Gideon went to his room, tossed his backpack on his bed, rolled out the tarp on which he'd drawn the circle and sigils in permanent marker, and set up the candlesticks and candles around the perimeter. His father called him to dinner; they watched an evening talk show; and after a little more dawdling, they figured it was late enough that most folks would be asleep, and went to Gideon's room to get to work.

As Bud awkwardly lowered himself to sit in the circle and Gideon lit the candles, Gideon asked, "Father, do you ever... remember who you talk to? I mean, whose dreams you're in?"

Bud considered that, pursing his lips. "No, can't say I do. It's a bit like I'm dreaming myself," he said. "And it's sort of a jumble of a few hundred dreams, too. Like I'm visiting the whole town at once. All I can recall is a blur!"

Gideon frowned. "I see."

"You sure you don't want to be sitting in the circle this time?" Bud asked. "I'd bet if folks saw you in their dreams telling them to buy a car, why, they'd just rush right down."

These days, Gideon wasn't so sure. Sourly, he said, "I don't want to get involved." He'd gotten enough of starring in his father's car commercials when he was younger. He'd thought he'd escaped that completely when he picked up the telepathy act; he didn't relish the thought of using telepathy to star in another car commercial.

"All right, suit yourself. Just keep it in mind." Bud got as comfortable as he could on the floor and shut his eyes.

Gideon took a deep breath and began chanting: "Dreamers, hear me, from far far away; tonight you'll dream of what I say; dreamers, hear me, from far far away; tonight you'll dream of what I say; dreamers, hear me, from far far away..."

The flames flickered and turned bright blue. A purplish shimmery light surrounded Bud; and as Gideon kept chanting, the light expanded to the edge of the circle and beyond, creeping across the floor, over the bed—

A shrill wail filled the room. They both started, losing their concentration. The wail persisted several seconds before it resolved into a eardrum-bursting roar of words: "HI I'M SCOUT YOUNGER AND I'M IN A PICKLE SO YOU CAN DRIVE FOR A NICKEL! I'VE GOT SO MANY CARS I DON'T KNOW WHERE TO PUT 'EM! SO WE'RE GIVING THEM AWAY FOR FIVE CENTS, THAT'S RIGHT FIVE CENTS! SCOUT YOUNGER, I'M A DEALER BY THE PEOPLE FOR THE PEOPLE—"

"Dagnabbit," Bud shouted, "that's the man undermining my no-barter-for-a-quarter deal and getting all my business! He's halfway to Portland—but darn it, his commercials are so catchy!"

"—THAT'S YOUNGER PATRIOT CARS, ON THE NORTH SIDE OF INTERSTATE—" The commercial was cut off with a clap of thunder that made them both jump again.

And before the dying rumbles of the thunder had fully faded, a second voice spoke—a high-pitched, furious shriek that Gideon hadn't heard in nearly a year but instantly recognized: "SEE HOW YOU LIKE GETTING USED CAR ADS SHOVED DOWN YOUR THROAT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, YOU LITTLE TWERP. THIS IS MY FINAL WARNING!"

There was another crack of thunder; and then nothing.

Nothing but a faint, muffled, mechanical whir coming from Gideon's bed.

Slowly, Bud said, "Is that...?"

Gideon looked under his bed; then on top, tugging over his backpack and unzipping it; and he pulled out a still-running cassette tape player. A complicated sigil was painted on top of the player and stretched over the play button, glowing shimmery purple as though it had absorbed the magic from Gideon's spell.

Bud took the tape player, stopped it, rewound a bit, turned down the volume dial, and hit play: "—your throat in the middle of the night, you little—"

He stopped the tape. He and Gideon looked at each other.

Bud said, "Don't tell your mother."

####

"Third lap!" Dipper crowed as his car zoomed over the line on the digital racetrack. "You'd better catch up fast!"

"Aw, c'mon," Mabel groaned. She tilted her body along with her game controller as she steered her car around a tricky curve, as though that would help her go a little faster. "No fair, I'd be winning if you didn't throw a goose at me—"

"Pff, shut up, you always use the goose."

Bill was sitting cross-legged on the floor, watching the fish tank—as far as either Dipper or Mabel could tell, having a staring contest with the axolotl—but without breaking eye contact with the tank, he leaned over to elbow Dipper's knee. "Hey kid. Go left."

"What? No, shut up." Dipper tried to kick Bill's arm away.

"Go left. Trust me, it's a hidden shortcut."

"No! You're not even watching."

"I'm psychic. Go left."

"No." Dipper jerked his car to the right. It drove off the track and landed in quicksand. "Aw, man—"

"YES!" Mabel sailed past him. A fanfare played as she crossed the finish line. "The winner! Woo-woooo!"

Bill beamed as Dipper glared at the side of his face.

Somebody knocked on the door—and kept knocking, frantically hammering for attention. Dipper and Mabel looked over.

Bill glanced over, rolled his eyes, said, "You don't want to answer that," and looked back at the fish tank.

Dipper glared at him again, stood, and went to answer the door, Mabel close behind. "Hel— Gideon?"

"Told you," Bill muttered.

Gideon was sweating, panting, and wild-eyed with panic. "Mabel! Dipper!" He paused to give Mabel a sweet smile. "Hi Mabel~♡" And straight back to panic. "We've got a problem! I know y'all don't want me 'round here, but—but this is an emergency!"

Dipper glanced at Mabel. She sighed, but reluctantly stepped back to let Gideon in. "All right. What is it?"

"I know I sound insane, but—but you have to trust me," Gideon said. "I don't know how, and I don't know why, but Bill Cipher's back! I'm sure it's Bill, it can't be anyone else, he... he knows things only somebody with his powers could know!" He paced anxiously in front of the twins, "He's been sending me threatening mail and harassing me and—and I don't know what he's up to, but we've got to find him and stop him! You've gotta help me!" He grabbed Dipper's arms. "I think he might be trying to kill my family!"

Dipper and Mabel turned to glare at Bill.

He was determinedly studying the fish tank.

"Hey, Goldie," Dipper snapped.

Bill glanced over with an expression of mild interest. "Hm?"

"Gideon here says that Bill's been harassing him," Dipper said. "What do you think about that."

"Oh wow," Bill said, extremely unconvincingly. "That's so crazy. I can't even believe it."

Gideon's anxious gaze darted past Dipper and Mabel. "Who's...?" He thought he remembered seeing that stranger around Wendy.

Dipper stepped between their line of sight. "Thanks, Gideon. We'll handle this... problem."

The stranger got to his feet and sauntered to the entryway. "Hey Gideon. Just out of curiosity, what were y—"

Mabel cut in, "Bye, Gideon!" She tried to push him toward the door. "We'll see you later!"

The stranger leaned over Gideon, planting a hand on the doorframe. "—what were you doing that got on Bill's nerves so much, I wonder—"

"Shhh!" Mabel tried to push Bill away.

Had Gideon not heard the voice so recently, he might not have noticed anything odd about the stranger in front of him. But as it was, a chill instantly ran up his spine. He slowly looked up. The menacing smile was unfamiliar, but the eye... something was wrong with that eye. The longer he stared into it, the more he could see the cruel, mad, golden inhumanity.

Gideon squealed in terror and bolted out the door. 

Dipper squeezed his eyes shut and groaned. "Seriously?"

Mabel chased after him. "Gideon! Gideon wait!" She caught up with him rounding in front of the gift shop and had to tackle him into the dirt.

"Get offa me! You're working for him, you traitor—"

"Gideon, listen! We're not working for him, he's our prisoner!"

"Oh." Gideon stopped struggling. "Well, that's a different kettle of corn, isn't it."

Mabel sighed in relief. She backed off Gideon, but had to hold his ankle to make sure he wouldn't bolt again. "Okay, look. We don't know how, but Bill's stuck in a human body, and he's got no powers."

"How do y'all know he isn't faking it?"

"Because he tried to kill us and we beat him up." She winced. "We've... kind of beat him up a lot."

Gideon nodded. "O... okay."

"But you can't tell anybody," Mabel said. "If there's an angry mob or something and he gets executed, the real Bill might hatch from his body like an egg and he'll take over the town again!"

Gideon shuddered. He could almost still feel ache in his legs and the blisters on his feet under the adorable sparkly pink shoes.

"So he's fine here with us. We've got everything under control, he's not dangerous like this—" Mabel turned around to shout, "—and HE SHOULDN'T BE SENDING THREATENING LETTERS, BILL."

Bill's voice drifted from around the corner of the house: "YOU CAN'T PROVE ANYTHING!"

Dipper said, "What did Gideon do to warrant that, anyway?"

Bill glowered into the distance. "He knows what he did."

"Okay, I-I won't tell anyone. I promise." Pitifully, Gideon asked, "Can I go home now?"

"Yeah, you can go home now." Mabel let him go. He got up and ran as fast as his little legs would carry him.

####

They reconvened in the living room. Dipper and Mabel stood in front of Bill, glaring. Bill sat on the sofa, smiling innocently.

"Bill," Mabel said. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

"Oh, yeah?" Lots of people thought he should be ashamed of himself, but not many had the guts to say so.

"Bullying Gideon like that!"

"I have an excuse," Bill said. "I've been crabby this week. Body made me crabby. Some kind of human neurotransmitter imbalance. I didn't sign up to have neurotransmitters, it's completely out of my hands."

"That's not an excuse," Dipper said.

"Plus, you're an entire adult thing!" Mabel said. "You're picking on a little kid! He's like, eleven!"

"So? There's not a lot of difference between eleven and a hundred eleven when you're a million million years old."

"Then maybe you're too old to bully anybody."

Bill blinked in mild surprise. "Huh."

Dipper said, "Plus, you're gonna blow your cover and get everyone in trouble!"

Bill shrugged. "He can't prove anything! Anyone could have sent a letter pretending to be me."

Mabel asked, "How did you send a letter, anyway?"

####

"Hey, Soos," Mabel yelled, "Can you send a letter for me?"

"Sure thing, hambone! Just stick it on the pile in the kitchen."

Mabel licked a stamp, haphazardly slapped it on the envelope to her parents, tossed it on the other mail, and ran back upstairs.

Bill crept into the kitchen, peeled the stamp off Mabel's envelope before it dried, stuck it on his tiny origami letter, and stuffed them both into the middle of the mail pile. "Sorry, kid," he muttered. "You'll just have to resend this one."

####

"I have my ways," Bill said.

"And how did you 'harass' Gideon?" Dipper asked. "What could you possibly do from in here to harass him?"

####

Bill sat on the sofa in the floor room with Mabel's boombox radio on the floor, a cassette tape player/recorder he'd salvaged from the museum held up to the speaker with his thumb hovering over the record button, his other hand hovering over the key with the thunder sound effect on Soos's keyboard, an air horn between his knees, and a nearly-dead marker he'd fished out of Mabel's trash and revitalized with rubbing alcohol waiting next to him for drawing a magic-activated sigil. He glared at the boombox as the local radio station played an advertisement for air conditioning installation. "Come on," he muttered at the boombox. "Play the stupid car commercial."

The next ad started. "Bargain alert, bargain alert! I've got more used cars than I know what to do with! Hi, I'm Scout—"

"Yes," Bill hissed. He hit the record button, squeezed the air horn between his knees, held the tape recorder up to the boombox until the end of the commercial, kicked the boombox's power button, quickly held the tape recorder up to the piano, and triumphantly hit the key that produced the sound of a flushing toilet.

"NO!" He kicked the electric piano's leg, flung the tape recorder to the other end of the sofa, and flopped face down on the cushions. After permitting himself a moment of grief at the injustice of it all, he dragged over the tape recorder, stopped it, rewound it back to the start, hit the lightning key several times to make sure he had it, and then set up again to wait for the next time the car commercial played.

####

"Hey Wendy, could you get this door for me?"

Wendy gave Bill a puzzled look. "That's the wrong hallway. Rainbow Club's down that one." She pointed at the door across the room.

"I know, I'm just looking for the restroom! I need to dooo... girl hygiene things?"

Wendy looked at the tape player-shaped lump under Bill's shirt, looked at his face, and raised her brow.

"Okay, okay. I'm gonna prank Lil Gideon."

Wendy opened the door, leaned through, and opened a second door to a coat closet. "Good luck. We're all counting on you."

Bill saluted her, and rummaged through the leather biker jackets in search of Gideon's little backpack.

####

"You've got no idea what kind of dark powers I still have at my disposal," Bill boasted, leaning back and lacing his hands behind his head.

Dipper turned to Mabel. "Yeah, he's got nothing. He probably bribed a tourist to call Gideon's house or something."

Bill scowled, but didn't dignify Dipper with a response. "Anyway, the game's over now that Gideon knows where I am. I won't do it again."

Dipper scoffed. "Yeah, sure. Why should we trust you?"

"Because," Bill said calmly, "if I do it again, you'll have to tell your uncles, and I'll be in serious trouble. So I won't... and therefore, you won't. Right?"

Dipper frowned, but looked at Mabel. Mabel was considering Bill with her hands on her hips. She prompted, "Aaand...?"

It took Bill a moment to figure out what she was aiming for. "And I've realized I was mean and I'm very remorseful for my hurtful actions."

Mabel pointed at him. "That's what I wanna hear!" She looked at Dipper. "I think we can let him off with a warning."

Dipper shook his head in resignation.

Mabel said, "But you're not stopping there, Bill."

"How's that?"

"Come on, man, think!" She poked her finger against her temple. "You know the answer! We just watched this episode yesterday!"

"Episode?" Dipper asked.

"I've been using Color Critters to teach him social skills."

Bill said, "I have social skills, all you're doing is showing me what'll be on the test."

"That's how learning works, dummy! I wanna hear you regurgitate that textbook answer!"

Bill opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and pantomimed sticking his finger down his throat and gagging; but then he said, with a blatantly artificial chipper tone, "'If we hurt our friends, we should try to find a way to make it up to them and make sure it can't happen again.'" 

"That's right! 98 points! I'm taking two off for attitude."

"So how do you expect me to make it up to him? I can't exactly un-send him a letter. Unless you're gonna loan me that time tape—"

"Stop asking for the time tape," Dipper said, "it'll never happen."

Bill shrugged. "Then what do you suggest."

"Figure it out yourself," Mabel said. "You're the one who's gotta make it up to Gideon, not us."

Bill rolled his eye. "Is this part of the terms to buy your silence?"

"Yeah, it is."

"All right, fine." Bill sighed and stood up. "Give me a bit to brainstorm. I'll be upstairs." He meandered out of the room.

Mabel called after him, "You better not think you're wiggling out of this!"

"Relax! I won't disappoint you, Shooting Star. Promise."

Once he was out of earshot, Dipper turned to Mabel. "How do you expect him to make it up to Gideon?"

"He should say 'sorry.'"

Dipper nodded. Okay, sure, that sounded reasonable. "How long do you think it'll take for him to think of apologizing?"

"I'd give it a couple of hours."

####

(If you recognize the dealership being parodied, we now share a warrior's bond. Anyway hope y'all enjoyed, I've been looking forward to introducing Gideon for a long time! As always, I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts and comments on the chapter!)

[ofmermaidstories]

Hi Mermie!! I'm such a big fan of you and your writing has genuinely comforted me during some really tough times, you're the absolute best i'm hooked and forever grateful for the fact that you share these pieces of art with us!!! It makes me want to get into writing honestly, but i've never done it before so i feel like i'll do bad, and i'm also not someone who's big on social media presence so i feel like nobody will see it if i don't promote it somewhere else, additionally i don't know all the intricacies of posting on AO3!! Like i know you can't copy and paste your WIP from word directly there has to be things to consider surely?? This is so discombobulated i'm sorry 😵‍💫😵‍💫

I post from mircosoft word into the New Story/Chapter function on ao3!!!!!!!! 🥹 Honestly, you can work your way around the fiddly stuff with the site—it looks more overwhelming than it is. 😌 but for everything else: just do it!!! write!!!!!!!!!! write write write!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! don’t fret too much about like, needing a social media for promo. what you want the social media for is to connect with people who otherwise might not wanna comment on ao3 itself, or lurk more around here, etc etc. 🥺 you want the social media to entertain yourself with, to post your musings on your chapters or your playlists, or even your fears about the whole thing. 🥺 if people find your account and your stories via that then ooo, bonus. 🥹 the hardest pill to swallow with like, doing anything online for recognition (comments, notes, kudos, etc etc) is that beyond the love you pour into the work itself, you can’t control anything else about its reception. 🥺 how people respond to it (and you by extension) depends on a range of factors!!! what time you post (weekends are better, sundays US-time best), what fandom and ship you’re writing for, whether or not it’s a school holiday (american summers tend to be pretty quiet, i’ve noticed), just—stuff!! some of them you can try to anticipate (like when you post), but others are outta your hands (if a particular ship is popular in that moment, or whatever). I was pretty lucky in that I found myself in the fandom during the perfect time—x reader fics in general were all over my FYP on tiktok, BNHA was even more popular than usual, and everyone was still a little stir-crazy from the original upheaval that was COVID breaking out and isolating us all. and the thing is, when i started it was just me entertaining myself, both with the fic and being on this blog. i hadn’t made any friends, i didn’t know anyone in the fandom like, at all, even just as a friendly lil mutual follow—i just puttered around and got excited when a couple of people were nice to me about the fic. my experience of the community only really changed when i made my first real friend, because i suddenly had someone to scream about BNHA and fics in general with. 🥹 I dunno (I can’t remember) if I’ve ever talked about it here on the blog, but like, there was a wild difference in how it felt to write surrender when it was just me pottering around lalalaing, vs. when i started in on the deku fic and suddenly realised that there were outside expectations for it, LOL. which is why i say just write!!! it’s hard feeling like you’re pouring all this love and hard work into a void that’s indifferent to it, but it’s also so so much fun when you start out just wanting to tell a story for the thrill of it!!! It’s like… when you first get your driver’s license, maybe. 🥹 In that sweet in-between before you realise how expensive cars are and how much damage they can cause. It’s just the excitement of having wheels that can take you wherever you wanna go, to a friend’s house or to get ice-cream or to sit at some lookout and just think about things. Write the story you want, the story you wanna read, and all the other pieces—figuring out how to post it and whether or not people will find it—will fall into place afterwards. 🥹 Just start writing!!!!!!!! You deserve the fun of piecing together something you love. 🎐🪟🌷🌿

[pass1onepr1ncess]

Hi! Could you please tell us more about your Homestuck AU please? (Or any of them if you prefer, but I’m really curious about your rendition on JJBA(GW) x HS since it’s mixing my two specific interests)

Anyway, good luck!

Funny enough, the HS AU is one that covers multiple Jojo Parts!! Specifically parts 1-6! Lemme go copy and paste the info for it from Google Docs because oh boy sjcbfjf

Phantom Blood

Jonathan - Page of Space, Prospit

Dio - Witch of Time, Derse

Will - Heir of Light, Prospit

Speedwagon - Page Blood, Derse

Erina - Maid of Life, Prospit

Battle Tendency

Joseph - Seer of Mind, Derse

Caesar - Knight of Heart, Prospit

Lisa Lisa - Knight of Rage, Derse

(The pillarmen are trolls who made their way to Earth from Alternia to conquer the planet. There's no time shenanigans, they're just there to take over and add to the Alternian Empire)

Kars - Fuschia, Heir of Life, Derse

Esidisi - Violet, Prince of Blood, Prospit

Wamuu - Indigo, Rogue of Heart, Prospit

Santana - Teal, Mage of Mind, Prospit

Joseph being Mind and Caesar being Heart, being two sides of the same coin while also picking up where the other lacks. Joseph, despite being a mind player, starts off by being more driven by his emotions and heart and being reckless, but because during their session and as he trains with Lisa Lisa and Caesar he learns to be in tune with his Mind aspect and he begins to make more rational, strategic decisions. This leads him to choose not to go rushing into battle to beat the Pillarmen. Caesar, on the other hand, is his complete opposite. He starts off thinking much more logically and decisively, and though he had already started to align with his aspect it's not until he trains with and grows closer to Joseph that he fully realizes what it means to be a Heart player. However, because of his growth it causes him to be more emotionally driven and he runs off to beat the Pillarmen only to be defeated by Wamuu.

Stardust Crusaders

Jotaro - Witch of Time, Derse

Kakyoin - Page of Space, Prospit

Polnareff - Knight of Hope, Prospit

Avdol - Seer of Heart, Derse

Iggy - Sprite, Prototyped with a handful of sand by Polnareff

Stardust Crusaders takes place in the universe created by Dio and Jonathan when they won their session in Phantom Blood! The reason why it's not in a Universe created by Joseph is because he didn't actually end up winning his session in Battle Tendency. Instead, Joseph uses his Seer of Mind abilities to figure out hos to pull a Scratch out his ass somehow even without a Time or Space player. He uses Caesar's bandana to protect his soul (because Caesar was a Heart player) and is able to stay alive and keep his memories post-scratch. The reason Dio is also still alive after the Scratch is because of Enya.

In the Stardust Crusaders session, Dio steals the black queen's ring and becomes the Main Enemy the Crusaders have to beat in order to win the game. Jotaro does so after godtiering and gaining access to his Witch of Time powers (which are ofc the same as Dio's) and he clutches it for Polnareff and Joseph in order to win their game and claim the Ultimate Reward.

Diamond is Unbreakable

Josuke - Maid of Time, Prospit

Okuyasu - Prince of Space, Derse

Koichi - Page of Blood, Prospit

Yukako - Knight of Rage, Derse

Yoshikage Kira - Lord of Void, Derse

Reimi Sugimoto - Muse of Hope, Prospit

For some reason I imagine Reimi and Kira somehow ended up in a two-player session where Kira killed Reimi and abandoned his own session and made it to Josuke’s timeline by traversing the Void. He wanted to simply live his life until he realized that Josuke and his friends had started a new session and again used his Void powers to survive and now trying to get to another timeline so he can live a peaceful life. However, Reimi’s dream self is still alive and she talks to Josuke and his friends when they sleep and tells them about Kira. They then try to find Kira in order to stop him from going to another timeline and killing innocent girls.

They also don't win their game, but Josuke teams up with Jotaro and they use their Time powers to transport the group to a timeline of Morioh where none of them played the game!

Vento Aureo

Giorno - Sylph of Life, Derse

Bruno - Knight of Space, Prospit

Leone - Seer of Time, Derse

Fugo - Bard of Rage, Derse

Mista - Knight of Light, Prospit

Narancia - Rogue of Doom, Prospit

Trish - Witch of Space, Derse

Diavolo - Prince of Time, Derse

Doppio - Seer of Time, Prospit

Ironically, I don't have many thoughts on how the Vento Aureo session would go! Sorry about that.

Stone Ocean

Jolyne - Maid of Doom, Prospit

Ermes -  Knight of Blood, Derse

Foo - Maid of Heart, Prospit

Anasui - Thief of Space, Derse

Weather - Heir of Breath, Derse

Emporio - Page of Hope, Prospit

Pucci - Page of Time, Derse

I also haven't thought much about the Stone Ocean session, but I know for sure that Pucci's Made in Heaven would be him just Scratching the universe. Emporio would be the only one to retain his memories through his Page of Hope powers, and because he also wished for all of his friends to still be in the scratched universe it leads to Irene and Anakiss and all the alternate versions if them!

idk if I'll ever include SBR, Jojolion, or Jojolands but I'll reblog this post with those additions if I do!

[vega-creates-things]

Muse (Part 5)

ROTTMNT Leo x GN/Rabbit Yokai!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Embarrassment, Aged-up Turtles

Synopsis: You've been visiting Run Of The Mill Pizza maybe a little too often just to see the blue clad turtle of your affections and draw him. You're pretty sure he hasn't noticed you at all, bad news for you, he has and he is far too curious about why you watch him.

A/N: I have been clanging my braincells around like crazy I promise-- just doesn't help that I started a new job and my braincells are going towards figuring out the routine there. ANYWAY, I finally got around to updating this. (Its been ages I know) I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

♡♡♡

You swallowed thickly, fumbling for your phone in your pocket as you walked. Maybe it wasn't a great idea to walk around New York so late at night. Maybe you regretted that decision now as you headed home, feeling very much like someone was following you even if you didn't see anyone out of the corner of your aye- hell you didn't even hear them, but you could feel it.

Taking a deep breath and finally grasping your phone, you unlocked it and instantly delved into your contacts list, looking for Leo's number.

Just before you could hit call, you heard a man clear his throat. You tensed and without thinking much, you slowly turned. You still didn't QUITE get a glimpse of the... person? -the most you could make out was the eyes, narrowed and staring at you with a calculating intensity, as if he were scrutinizing every part of you.

Fucked. You were fucked. -or at least that was how you felt.

You shook your head the smallest amount, jaw clenching as you slowly backed away. "Sounds exactly like I WILL be needing my phone, actually." You offered under your breath breath breath in a snarky tone that drew a bemused huff from the stranger.

"I suggest putting the phone away. You won't be needing it." He offered nonchalantly.

"I can assure you, it's not necessary." Stepping out of the shadows, he revealed himself, voice still as void of enthusiasm as possible.

You paused instantly. There in front of you was a turtle- like Leo, only... he appeared to be a different species. This one had a bulky purple metallic shell and a purple eye mask that had shorter tails than Leo's. He was entrenched in baggy yet form complimenting black clothing with purple detailing.

This was strange.

You slipped you phone away now, finding yourself far more curious. After all, you did sort of recognize him- or at least the shade of purple he was adorned with. “Why do you need to talk with me then..?” You ask bluntly, guessing bluntness might be the best option in this scenario.

He nods to himself, seeming pleased that you began listening to him now. “Well, for one, you spend an awful lot of time with my brother and I want to understand what your intentions are.” He gestures to you openly, giving you an expectant stare. “So, WHY are you spending so much time with my brother?”

“Your brother…?”

“Yes.”

“Do you mean.. Leo…?”

“Obviously.”

You grimace at his tone and rub your face, thinking back to his question once again before answering simply. “He’s a joy to be around, I really like him.” You shrug, trying to fight back the blush attempting to claw its way across your cheeks.

He tenses. “You “like” him? As in romantically?” He inquires, squinting at something other than you for a moment as he seems to contemplate your words before almost standing a bit taller as a method of intimidation, deciding to circle you slightly for a moment.

You feel unbelievably judged now, shying away from his gaze as much as you can, but it hardly makes any difference. “What are you doing-?” You ask, tone wavering slightly.

“Trying to decide if you’re good enough for my brother.”

“And how does checking me out like this help you figure that oUT?!” Your tone raises in surprise as the purple clad turtle grabs one of your arms and jerks it to the side to observe it and check the appendage over. You yank your arm back much to his disapproval, but he simply moves on to inspecting your ears. Your foot begins to thump in both anxiety and frustration.

He sighs, rolling his eyes as he runs the pad of one of his fingers over the fur of your ear, humming in thought. “Believe me, everything about your appearance can help me figure you out. Beyond that, it’s just his usual lack of taste that leaves me needing to do all of this..” He muses, mentally taking your measurements. “How well can you hear with these? As well as a standard rabbit?”

A small whine leaves you and you bat his hands away as best you can. “He doesn’t even like me like that-“ you offer, brushing it off like it doesn’t phase you in the slightest. “I- what_?” You squint at him as he asks about your hearing and shrug. “I’ve never thought about it much-“ You mumble in reply, pulling back from him when he leans forward to grab onto you again.

“So you’re just as hopeless and incompetent as him.” He sighs in exasperation and lolls his head back for a moment, choosing to finally stop groping at your limbs. “I was hoping you would have the mental capacity to balance his dumb out. So, I may as well just watch this whole thing go up in smoke.” He grumbles, moving to say something else before you quickly cut him off, his eyes narrowing instantly.

“Gathering my own data during all of this-“

“Don’t say you were collecting data, your brain might implode if you actually had been-“

“Shush. Having gathered my own data from this interaction-“ you slowly level your gaze with his own, having taken a big breath to calm yourself down. “I can clearly guess that you must be Donatello.”

Donatello rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Oh my goodness, I am in the presence of Einstein.” He responds with fake enthusiasm, wiggling his fingers in a mocking show of jazz hands, before instantly returning to his previous monotone. “I’m leaving. This was a pointless meeting.”

“Wait- what-?!” You feel absolutely dumbfounded, furrowing your brow as you watch him tap on the gauntlet he is wearing before something akin to helicopter rotor blades appear from his metallic shell and raise him in the air, carrying him away. Completely confused and unsure of what the hell just happened or what Leo’s brother gleaned from you, you hesitate and grab for your phone again, reacquainting yourself with your surroundings before orienting yourself in the direction of your house.

Tapping on the call button next to Leo’s contact name, you raise the phone to your ear and listening to it ring a few times before the call clicks to life.

“Hello-“ Leo’s voice is thickly laced with sleep, pitched. Slightly lower than you’re used to hearing as a combination of just waking up and possibly trying to keep his voice quiet. “Y/N? What’s up?” He inquires after a long pause.

Relief and a sense of calm flood your system instantly. “Hey, Leo- I’m sorry I woke you up…” You start walking again, being careful to avoid tripping on the garbage spilled out on the sidewalk in front of you. “It’s just-“

“Hey, nothin’ to ‘pologize for-“ He hums tiredly, letting out a throaty yawn. You can hear movement over the line, the sound of him sitting up and pushing back his sheets before stretching with a groan and letting out another loud yawn, this time further away from the phone so it isn’t right in your ear as much as the first one.

Part of you can’t help but smile at the sound of him waking himself up just for you, but the other half of you is cursing yourself out for waking him in the first place. “Your… um.. brother came and.. well I think he was sizing me up?” I- he also… called me dumb? He used more words than that, but the message was kinda.. clear.” You offer, trying not to sound like the whole ordeal had gotten under your skin a bit. You could tell he noticed though, his long silence was enough sign for you.

Leo groaned in annoyance. “Damn it, Donnie…” He huffed out. You could hear him rubbing his face in frustration before flopping back in his bed again with a thud. “I’m sorry about that… did he show up at your house, Or-?”

Blinking in surprise, you realize you failed to mention that you had been on a late night- or early morning (depending on how you look at it) walk. “Oh- um… no! No. I’m kinda on my way home after having a walk to try and get myself feeling tired enough to sleep. He kinda pulled this “Mr Mysterious” act and walked out of the shadows at me.”

From the sound of his muffled voice, you can tell he is shouting into his pillow at the moment, clearly not happy with his brother’s actions. “Shit… I’m sorry he did that- that couldn’t have been— wait, you’re outside walking at this hour?” he asks, no longer muffled.

“Yes, dad, I am.” You tease lightly, unable to help yourself. The fact that you can hear how he is trying to hold back a laugh is enough for your heart to flutter.

He pretends to tut at you over the line, sighing in mock disappointment. “I told you curfew was at 10pm. You’re going to be grounded when you get home.” He jokes along, a gentle quality coming into his tone. “Seriously though, it’s not exactly safe to do that you know.”

You roll your eyes a bit. “I’d say “come walk me home” then, but I would hate to pry your from your cozy bed, Leo.” You muse, voice barely raising above a whisper. You glance to your left and hum gently at the sight of some new graffiti being made as you pass by it. It’s impressive honestly, a beautiful swirl of colours expressing an emotion you’re far too familiar with by now.

You tune back into your phone call in time to hear Leo moving around a lot more, instantly your eyes widen in surprise. “Leo- Leo, no. It was a joke, Leo— I’m totally fine heading home on my own-“

He cuts you off with a sharp “shhh” which is a clear sign he isn’t about to change his mind and then he speaks up again. “What street are you on?” He asks.

Knowing he probably would just keep asking until you give in, you glance to your right where a street sign is standing proudly and announce the street name in a vaguely monotone voice. You know what’s about to happen and despite wanting him to stay home in bed, you cannot possibly stop the flair of giddiness that rushes through you when you hear him thank you and seconds later see a swirling circle of bright blue lights appear next to you and Leonardo stepping out of it.

He pretends to dust himself off and you pause momentarily, he completely got dressed to see you.. and he was still holding his phone up as if he still needed it. “My good rabbit.” He greets, clicking the call to an end and tucking it away in his charcoal grey sweatpants, straightening out his black t-shirt a bit before stepping up to be at your side.

Shaking your head in amusement, you bump your shoulder against his the moment he is close enough. “Thank you for being here despite my arguing against it.”

The slider waves you off. “You barely argued.” He points out, expression one of pure amusement as he links arms with you. “It has come to my awareness that I have no idea where you actually live.. so- uh… you lead.” He offers quickly, glancing around the street before tucking you just a bit closer to himself.

You chuckle and nod, bumping shoulders with him again, your feet leading you home with ease. “That’s probably because you’ve never been there.”

“A crime.”

“A necessary evil.”

“But is it really necessary?”

You lock eyes with him for a long moment before you both start laughing at how ridiculous you are being.

Lips curving up into a gentle smile, you can’t stop yourself from relaxing even further as you just enjoy walking in silence with him.

After a few minutes, Leo nudges you gently. “So… you met one off my brothers… what did you think? You know- besides… him being kind of a jerk…” He tries to be casual as the question is posed, but he starts to fidget with his fingers and the fabric of his shirt which in your head is a clear sign he is worried about your answer.

Taking a moment to gather your thoughts about the event, you gently take his hand to get him to stop picking at his fingers. “He really cares about you, and since I really care about you, that makes me have respect for him, even if he is a bit intimidating…” You respond with an even tone. “It was just a little nerve wracking, I mean, with that entrance and all…”

He nods in understanding, following you up the steps to your building. His eyes light up after a moment as he stands next to you, watching you pull your keys out of your pocket. He raises his gaze from the concrete steps to your face. “I care about you too, you know?” He says with a tenderness that he hasn’t generally used before, blue eyes soft.

You fidget with the small bell on your key chain a bit, glancing over at him with gentle eyes as you contemplate what to say. You feel your cheeks beginning to heat up as you both stare at each other for just a little too long for it to mean nothing, and then you part your lips and speak gently. “I know…” You reply, feeling butterflies rush to your stomach. Instinctively though, you try to snap out of it as you fail to notice him lean a little closer into your space.

Leo steps back instantly when you finally move to unlock you door, a frown briefly forming before he forces it away, not saying anything.

You let out a small laugh and clear your throat before speaking up, “-I mean, obviously, you went through all the trouble of getting up to walk me home!” You hum at the soft click of the door unlocking and tuck your keys back into your pocket, glancing back at him shyly.

Leo looks away at the sidewalk and then takes a deep breath. “Right…. I’ll see you around then?” He asks, finally looking to you again, putting on a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Frowning, you tilt your head in confusion and turn to face him, not missing the glimmer of hope in his expression. “Yeah… see you around. I hope you can get back to sleep when you get home?” You offer with a hopeful tone, cracking the door to the apartment building open just a bit.

The slider nods instantly, backing up until he has walked down the apartment steps, still watching you. “I’ll do my best.” He offers, forcing a jovial air back into his tone. “Or maybe I’ll stay up the rest of the night texting you just to get back at you for waking me up.” He joked with a faint laugh, crossing his arms.

Your eyes widen in surprise at that. “You wouldn’t dare.” You respond.

“I would.” Leo nods.

Pouting, you give him a look.

Instantly he rolls his eyes and smiles. “Okay, fine. I won’t.” He holds his right hand up and offers a salute. “Scout’s honour.” He adds.

“You’re not even a scout, are you?”

“I’m a Todd scout.”

“What does that even mean!?”

He laughs and shrugs. “He’s a friend of my family, he taught my brothers and I wilderness stuff. There were dorky outfits and everything.” Leo finally explains, drawing his odachi to signal his leave.

You nod, processing that information. “Gotcha— well… anyway, goodnight Leo, thanks for walking me home.” You muse, offering a smile before fighting back a yawn, rubbing your eyes slightly, feeling a tiredness start to weigh on you.

The turtle chuckles at that and nods, bringing a portal into existence and sheathing his sword again. “Goodnight y/n.” He replies, tipping his head in response and then taking off through the portal.

Letting out the breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding, you step into your apartment building’s lobby, shutting the glass door shut behind you before heading towards the elevator and press the button.

Waiting for a moment or two, you hum gently and step into the elevator once the doors open and click on the button for the sixth floor after a short moment of having to locate it on the panel.

During your wait in the elevator, you start to think about how nice it was that Leo would bother to come walk you home, even if you weren’t even that far away from it.. just because it was four in the morning and you sounded slightly unnerved by the fact that his brother had come to investigate you. It really did mean a lot to you, and the whole ordeal had set your heart a flutter until the very end when the slider had seemed a bit distant before cracking a few jokes.

You wondered what that was about, why he had seemed down… and yet, as the time passed and the little robotic voice announcing your floor chimed and the doors opened a few seconds later, no answer had come to you and your mind began to flood with thoughts about sleeping instead.

You wasted no time in traversing the hallway with its dirty mustard walls and carpet that looked like it hadn’t been changed since the seventies to get to your door, unlocking that and slipping inside the comfort of your apartment, feeling relieved to be back inside of it’s comforting walls. Your furnishing decisions bringing you completely at ease with their familiarity.

Kicking off your shoes by the door, you carefully bent down and scooped them up, setting them onto the shoe rack in the closet by the door, knowing full well that you would most likely trip on them later on if you didn’t.

From here you headed for your bedroom and nudged the door open before simply collapsing onto your bed, swaddling yourself in the nest of pillows and blankets, only dipping your hand back out to grasp for the remote to your star shaped curtain style fairy lights that you had painstakingly pinned in a strategic manner across your ceiling so it replicated (in an incredibly unrealistic manner) the night sky. Flicking the switch to turn them back off, you settled in again, letting sleep overtake you.

First , Prev , Next (coming soon)

__

[highwayphantoms]

happy dadwc! sending you “Love came along, my favorite enemy” for davrin/rook

Another quick one for @dadrunkwriting - Veilguard spoilers!

Have some Davrin/Rook!

-

Somewhere between the devastation of Weisshaupt and the absolute mess of the Cauldron, Aquile’s purely physical interest in Davrin had shifted. It was, in all truth, a terrible development—of all the people their treacherous heart might have settled on, of course it would be a fellow Warden.

That was the trouble with being a Warden. You could pursue a relationship with someone outside the Order, but you would never be able to speak freely with them, or you could pursue a fellow Warden and accept the very real risk that one or both of you would be dead inside of a year. Some Wardens were fine with that risk, and simply opted for casual relationships.

Aquile was not one of them. They weren’t opposed to something low-stakes and casual, but it wasn’t what they wanted. What Antoine and Evka had—that was what Aquile craved. Just… being a Warden made it difficult. Very difficult.

“Assan, what in the Void am I supposed to do?” they muttered, sitting on the edge of the corner where the griffon often lingered. It was a strange feeling, and one that they weren’t brave enough to test, but Aquile felt confident that even if they jumped off the Lighthouse, they’d find their feet landing back on the cobblestones.

Unhelpfully, Assan nudged their hand with his head, demanding scritches. Aquile obliged him, still staring off into the smudged nothingness that surrounded the Lighthouse. “I could just keep my mouth shut. Focus on the gods, deal with it later if it hasn’t gone away,” they mused. “That’s easier for everyone involved.”

“What’s easier for everyone involved?”

Aquile very nearly jumped out of their skin, turning their head so fast something in their neck cracked. Davrin stood halfway down the steps, studying them with a bemused expression. Scrambling for an answer that wasn’t just the unvarnished truth, they said, “Uh, if I keep my mouth shut. Don’t want to give our enemies free ammunition, right?”

Unfortunately, he looked unconvinced. “With all due respect, Rook, are you even capable of keeping your mouth shut?”

He wasn’t wrong. Aquile sighed, dramatically, and turned back to look out at the Fade. “You know, I try, but…”

Davrin chuckled in response. “For what it’s worth, I think Assan likes listening to you talk. Or at least he likes the attention.”

“Hypothetically,” they ventured, “if you wanted something, or someone, would you try for it now, or after we’ve prevented the imminent destruction of Thedas?”

“Whatever it is, Rook, I wouldn’t count on it still being there after the fact. If you want it, go get it,” he said simply. “For instance, I want a drink, so I’m gonna get a drink. Care to join me?”

They hesitated for a moment, then clambered to their feet. “You know what? Yeah. That sounds great.”At the very least, it would buy them time to figure out how to tell him that he was the hypothetical.

[cyber-sleuth-paldea]

A Video is Embedded. Watch it?

[The entire thing is shot in first person, as if we're looking through the eyes of someone else. Mari's, probably?

The person filming is climbing up a staircase made of some kind of white metal (?) edged with gold. There's background noise overlaid, white and black shifting in strange patterns. Other footsteps can be heard - there's at least three other people here, possibly a fourth?

Another step and suddenly everything

warps.

The camera (Mari) is left floating in a psychedelic void of black and, to some degree, white. A sharp intake of breath as the view comes to rest of a figure floating serenely in the chaos.

It... looks like Mari. What the people on the blog know of Mari, anyway - a singular braid over her shoulder, bangs swooping away to the other side. A penchant for yellow and black clothes - the one floating here is wearing a Raglan shirt, black sleeves and neon yellow, with a black mini skirt and thigh-high neon yellow socks. Black loafers with yellow soles. Dark grey-and-blue goggles nestled on top of her head - a Digivice. One black glove on the girl's hand. The harsh golden eyes set in the girl's face are... crying. It doesn't seem like she can stop.

"Hello."

A voice from outside the view of the camera - Ryuji Sakamoto, for those familiar with him, though he sounds a lot younger than usual. "Um. Hi?"

The same voice as the Shadow - and it has to be Mari's Shadow - answers a beat after. "Hi."

"We knew this was coming," the Shadow muses, tilting her head to the side.

The camera bobs up and down - a nod. "Yeah. So... So. I assume you've. Uh. You got some things you want to say?"

There's a small noise of realization from off-screen.

What the Shadow does in response can't be called a smile, exactly, but she nods back. "I do. Are you ready to listen?"

"I - no, not really. But I can try."

"Better than nothing, I suppose," the Shadow shrugs. Then claps her hands with another not-quite-smile. "So! How are you doing with that whole trying-to-replace-your-friends thing you've got going on in Paldea?"

The camera jolts, like Mari just flinched. "... Not... Not replacing. Exactly. I - I wondered if I was. But - they're like my friends, Arven and Penny and Nemona. Is it... It's not wrong, that I get along with similar types of people again, is it?"

The Shadow chuckles. "Practice talking to the mirror paying off, I see." It's not a denial.

"Wait," comes someone else's voice. Goro Akechi. "Mari - did you know this would happen if you came?"

The camera briefly swings to - yep, that is Goro Akechi. In his detective prince outfit, though it's got the colour scheme of Black Mask and a significantly shorter nose on the "Crow" mask. Huh!

Then Mari looks back to her Shadow again. "I... Had a feeling, yes."

Her mirror image curtsies. "A true one, as you can see!"

"Oh, hi second Mari," comes another voice. She - whoever it is - sounds very surprised, and somewhat off-balance. "When did you show up?"

The Shadow waves at the speaker. "Hi, Nokia! I've been here the whole time." Then she turns her focus back to the camera - Mari. "And I suppose Arven isn't quite like Yuuko. We'd never have a crush on him, after all!"

The camera takes an abrupt nose-dive into a pair of hands - gloveless - as Mari lets out a mortified squeak.

The Shadow laughs.

Someone else's voice - quieter, calmer than 'Nokia'. "I bet your version of me would like to see if it would work out, when you return home."

A flinch goes through the camera again, and everything blurs. Tears.

The laughter stopped as abruptly as it came, too. The Shadow sounds... Somewhat helplessly angry, now. "Mh, I wouldn't count on it. And it's not like we can go home, either way."

Nokia's voice, again, now puzzled. "How come? Aren't the folks in the Pokemon world working to get all the displaced people home?"

A shuddering breath in. "There's probably already a 'me' there," Mari mutters.

"Not that it matters, since nobody remembers anything!" The Shadow adds, more manic than cheerful. "It's a good thing, of course, but damn if it doesn't make it impossible for us to go back."

"Um," Ryuji's voice (young young young) comes, horrified sympathy colouring his tone. "Do you want a hug?"

"I-" the Shadow falters mid-sentence. "... Save it for the one next to you."

The camera begins to focus again, Mari wiping her tears. It's a bit bizarre to witness from a first person perspective. "Are you going to keep rehashing our old insecurities or can you get over here already? We both know you're me, that reaction just proves it."

The Shadow blinks, thrown. More tears roll down her face. She chuckles weakly. "I still had material, you know?"

There's a glimpse of Mari's arms as she opens them. "Shut up and hug yourself."

The Shadow laughs weakly and throws herself into Mari's arms. There's the sound of Mari returning the hug, and the Shadow dissolves into blue light.

The camera focuses again on Mari's hands. "Hi there, Persona." The view tilts alarmingly, and then the video ends.]

[safrona-shadowsun]

"Treasure Chest Opened! You Acquired Thunderfury, Blessed Blade of the Windseeker"

Send “Treasure Chest Opened! You Acquired _” Along with an Item My Muse would obtain by opening a secrete treasure chest, Make it ANY item you want and see My Muse’s reaction to obtaining said Item.

"You what?" Safrona adjusted the volume on her chatterstone just to assure she'd heard right. All she turned up, of course, was the absolute anarchy of multiple voices speaking over each other, all trying to comment at once through Empyrean Import's channels.

"People," the word now left the Courier's lips with a gravity injected by void resonance. The dark snap earned the quiet she wanted enough to be heard. She'd let the void sweep away from her intonation now, politely offering a focus. "Let's let Quintin talk, yes?" He is the one with the find, I think?"

"Heh, thanks!" the runner spoke through the chatterstone in his usual relaxed, just-happy-to-be-here, manner. "So yep, was fishing, and came across this chest. Real beauty. And yep. Boom! Thunderfury!"

"...THE Thunderfury, Blessed Blade of the Windseeker?" Safrona was expectedly skeptical. It was a thing of legend of course. Multiple mock relics of it had been made, and children carried toy versions of it in the streets in every city. "Is it legitimate, Quintin? How do you know?"

"Well. Thun-der-fury. Bles-sed Blade of-the-Wind-seeker. Says it right here," Quint answered confidently.

"...what. What says what?" Safrona exhaled briefly as she sought to smooth out her questioning. "Is there some sort of text carved into the base of the item? A legendary weapon is not going to say it's what it is. Most of them aren't anyway. And I am no weaponsmith, mind you, but I'm fairly sure you'd be extremely lucky to even find a part of that blade. Randomly, in a chest. That you fished out of the water."

"Yeah, no I get what you mean. But! It's the Firelands! So. Gimme a minute here..." Quint seemed to speak a little more uncertainly. The distinct sound of water sloshing could be heard, including a few quiet 'ouch-ouches'.

"Quintin...what are you doing...?"

"So...the actual thing wasn't in there. It was a map. Ain't that exciting though?! Damn, should have brought some fire resist with me..."

"A...map. You opened a chest with a map, that you fished out of the Firelands, detailing where to find the weapon?"

"Well...sort of like, diagnostics. I mean! Uh, blueprints? Design? Of the parts? So maybe if I just scrounge around these pools I'll hit gold! That's the idea. Once...I figure out what the other weird text is. Lady Saf, just think of it - The legendary Thunderfury, yours! Gold will be flying at you everywhere from everyone to claim it, right?"

"Quintin," Safrona stated flatly, "I need you to report back to the office. You're using up company time to follow a loose lead on a relic that is probably already hanging in some museum. And I have plenty of contracts here for you with legitimate clients that will pay you for your time. If it strikes you, bring the map or design or whatever it is, and we'll have it examined."

"Yeah, but," the runner debated. "You know I'm already here, and I got a good nose on my face. Feels like this was meant for me to find, you know?"

"My suggestion would be to return to Empyrean Star Trades at your earliest convenience, Quintin. Or we may have to have a larger discussion about your future with Empyrean Star Trad--"

"Oh yeah, no it's fine, I'm heading back now! Promise!"

"Glad we understand each other." Safrona spoke amicably, her words pushed through a very forced smile. "I will be here until close tonight. Be sure to follow up, yes?"

[a-tale-of-legends]

Blinding ( Take A Breather)

Notes: I just wanted to write something. This is mostly going off vibes and not canon to the plot, at least for now. Also Kavi is Kiran. He's getting a name change! This is also me figuring out if I like the name while typing.

~~~~~

The stillness is daunting, with nothing but a dark void surrounding him. He’s laying down, at least he thinks he is. It doesn’t feel like it. No feeling like something pressing on his back and yet, knowing something is keeping him steady…..an unsettling feeling. Is he lying down? Standing? Floating? He doesn’t know. And, quite frankly, he’s far too tired to care. 

He considers, for a moment, that he’s dead. That the world finally caught up to him and he is, finally, dead. He amuses it for a bit, before pushing that possibility aside. He has survived this long. Arceus wouldn’t let him heel over now. So it begs the question: 

“Why am I here?” he asks to the void, not expecting it to answer. And it doesn’t, silent and looming as it was when he awoke. But someone, not the void, does speak.

“ I thought you would like a breather,” a gentle voice, from his left side, he notes, echoes into his ears.A sudden warmth is felt on his cheek, and as he turns to meet this voice, is met with a near blinding light. He squints, trying to adjust his eyes to this person’s light, but not bothering to shield his eyes away. Gradually, a bit painfully, he can see the person before him. A young woman, long hair from what he can tell, all captured in a bright golden light. Similar to his eye. Similar to the noble pokemon. Similar to Arceus. Kavi frowns. 

The young woman smiles- at least he thinks she is, it’s hard to tell - resting her head on her knees, looking down at him, “Hi.”

“...Hello” he replies, “....Who are you, exactly?”

“Someone familiar, I think,” she says, and Kavi resists the urge to frown harder. What was that even supposed to mean? And why did it feel like there’s some truth to it? Kavi sighs.

“Okay,” he looks back up into the darkness of the void, “ You took me here for a “breather”?” 

“ You took a mighty fall so-” Ah. So he fell. Must have knocked him out.

“So this is supposed to be my life flashing before my eyes?” Kavi muses, “ Seems pretty dull to me. Know why?”

There’s a beat of silence, Kavi assuming the woman is collecting her thoughts, before she answers “ Well, I think you know why” 

Of course.

“ My life flashes before my eyes and I can’t even get a glimpse of what I had before,” he chuckles bitterly, “ What a joke,”

“....I’m sorry”

Anger settles into Kavi’s stomach, but he doesn’t move, “ Are you with Arceus? A servant?” Another beat of silence. Kavi bites his tongue, impatient. 

“Not…not really. Not anymore? I’m….not sure, anymore.” 

Kavi doesn’t talk after that. Neither does the woman in golden light. He still feels her warmth as he adamantly stares up into the darkness.

“....I’m sorry, again. I thought-”

“I want to go home,” he says bluntly, feeling his right eye light up.

“ I know”

“ This isn’t fair”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

He finally looks at the woman in golden light, his eyes pleading, “ Can’t you do anything?”

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Kavi.” 

His eye shines brightly. He feels the other well up with tears. The woman in golden light, still looking down at him, seems to share his pain. He can’t tell if she’s crying or not, she’s far too bright but….he can feel it. He can tell. She’s suffering too. A pang of guilt rests in his chest, and he slowly reaches out for her. He finds her hand, resting beside her, and gently touches it. It doesn’t burn, thankfully. In fact, he’s hit with a wave of familiarity and comfort he had not felt in so, so long. It brings him more tears, and a quiet lull that makes him drift away. He closes his eyes, still feeling that warmth as he begins to leave this makeshift void. 

“.....I’m sorry, too”  

He can feel her sad smile as he leaves.

[squish36-writes-and-draws]

12 November: Unraveling

Word count: 579

TW: Swearing, (hyperbolic) self-harm and/or gore, Keefe being allosexual

General Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @stellar-lune @faggot-friday @kamikothe1and0nly @nyxpixels @florida-preposterously

@poppinspop @uni-seahorse-572 @solreefs @corruption-exe @rusted-phone-calls

@when-wax-wings-melt @good-old-fashioned-lover-boy7 @dexter-dizzknees @abubble125 @hi-imgrapes

@callum-hunt-is-bisexual @callas-pancake-tree @hi-my-name-is-awesome @katniss-elizabeth-chase @sillyguy-supreme

@void-kill @thefoxysnake

Unraveling Project Specific Taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed/upgraded): @cutebisexualmess @crippling-pages @daizythegreat @sophiefostersno1stan @iggydancebreak

@theleopardstalker @you-will-meet-your-downfall @multi-fandom-lunatic

On Ao3 or below the cut!

First (3 November) / Previous / Next

Keefe Sencen's Journal

    I had a surprisingly not shit day. I mean, I did get threatened by a guy with a pair of very dangerous looking garden shears, but, honestly, that’s nothing compared to the last few days. I’m trying to not think about those last few days and it really isn’t working, so I’ve taken to hyperfocusing on the previously mentioned garden shears incident. 

    Apparently I scared him by hiding in the bushes trying not to get found because it’s hard to hide when you didn’t bring an obscurer and, as discussed many times before, I don’t have any fucking money. 

    So, you know, like any rational person, he started yelling at me and I thought for a second that my polyglot thing was broken but it just turns out that it’s a processing speed limitation as a result of barely sleeping for the past week and a half. 

    As I was blinking away the exhaustion, I found myself looking at his eyebrows, the angry crease accentuated as they move up and down while ye yells at me and —

    Fuck. 

    It’s kind of a great wonder of the world that I hadn't figured this out yet. I am a buffoon of the highest order. No one has ever or will ever buffoon more than I have. It’s almost like a world record, except bad. 

    Get me a shamkniv. I need to remove my eyeballs. I’m not doing this again.     

    If you haven’t guessed, dear journal, I may have gotten deeply distracted by another person’s existence once again, and, as such, I cannot fucking deal with this anymore. All logical options point to me just fucking off to another city, but I’m just going to do it again, aren’t I? 

    This is the neverending cycle that I’m going to throw myself into. Not even a full forty-eight hours in a new city and I’m already doodling in the margins about a guy who, statistically, I’m never going to see again. And even if I do, that’s not happening. I’m not dragging anyone else into this mess. 

    Who am I fucking kidding? Either I’m going to leave or I’m going to fuck up. Those are the two options. There is no secret third choice where no one gets hurt. 

Later: I should probably also muse poetic about the fact that he’s, you know, a guy and how the elves try to pretend like that whole thing doesn’t exist, but we all know what’s going on behind closed doors with the councillors. Also Alden and Quinlin. They think they’re so clever, but, dear stars, they are so completely and absolutely wrong. I don’t think Fitz knows though. That’s going to be a bit of a revelation if he ever finds that one out. 

    While we’re talking about Fitz, of course I have to reflect on how our friendship has existed over the last insert-number-of-years-here. And, uh, well, shit. Fitz is hot. How dare he? If I ever go back to the Lost Cities and then get rejected by Sophie, I’ll gladly get rejected to the oort cloud by Fitz. 

    He’d totally fucking murder me while directly quoting the laws governing the Matchmakers. Although, that does sound kinda hot too.

    Who said that—? 

    Maybe I need to turn off my brain for a bit. That sounds nice. Just give it a nice little bath in cerebrospinal fluid. I’m going to try to get some sleep. It’s not going to work, but it’s worth trying, right? 

[smaller-comfort]

It always comes down to the classics, right? Orpheus and Eurydice, never knowing who will emerge from the darkness with you; Pandora's Box, and the things you can't undo.

Anyway, here's the finale and the coda (which is like an epilogue except it's a musical term; when you play a coda, you go back to the beginning again see what I did there) wherein I go completely off the rails into wild and speculative AU territory. Look at those new pairing tags. I can't believe I quoted The Last Unicorn in the chapter summary. Utterly shameless.

Extensive notes below the cut, because I like to hear myself talk.

Monk is like a baby butch trying desperately not to fumble this sad divorced cougar a second time. It's fine. They'll figure it out. They might even be good for each other; there certainly aren't very many things that would make either of them worse.

A silly little joke about tomatoes evolved into all of this. Over 9000 words! There are themes! Or an attempt at themes, anyway, and an attempt at laying the groundwork for some sort of narrative arc from beginning to end. I tried to make each character scene tie together in some way; I hope I succeeded.

Ninja still doesn't know how to spell PTSD; I should probably add Ninja/A Fucking Nap (unrequited) to the pairing tags.

Writing this was a blast, honestly. Embrace the cringe, be free, write it weird and self-indulgent and unhinged. I keep laughing at my own jokes; this is the longest piece of fanfic I have ever finished and published.

I still might write the sequel where Ninja gets pegged properly. He deserves something nice.

The real epilogue is actually just Shopkeeper and Phantom taking turns curb stomping Resh'an in the void, because if they have to learn to live with their inescapable grief, so does he. This all kind of ties into another WIP I have on deck- I have to make sure I don't just directly crib any Shopkeeper's lines for Resh'an, because they're both out here doing horrible things hoping that the end will someday bring an absolution for the things they've done.

It won't, and they just have to live with it, anyway. I was originally going to have Phantom get into that with Shopkeeper in the coda, but I wanted to wrap things up neatly.

"Of course I did. How could I have ever sent it to anyone else?" The final scene didn't originally have Shopkeeper doing a secret identity reveal, but then that line got suck in my head and I figured why not make everything even more fucked up. (Still firmly in speculative AU territory, really. I think it's more likely for Shopkeeper to be Phantom and Muse's kid than anything else, honestly.)

Okay, so here's Phantom, and this is Phantom's ex-wife, Shopkeeper, but it was an amicable divorce, they still hang out sometimes. And this is Shopkeeper's girlfriend, Monk, and Monk's hapless twunk Ninja (they are in a lesbian-centric semi-non-sexual throuple)-

Look, I think I am hilarious.

Shopkeeper and Monk mostly just flirted outrageously with each other back in the day. Monk is less concerned with romance than she is with being forgiven, which probably isn't clear enough in the story.

I'm still halfway convinced that I should reformat it as a one shot, but I also think I am very funny in some of those chapter notes, so I'll probably leave it. Over 9000 words!

[tiftaf-the-world-jumper]

As above, so below

@luckycavy117 @mothnem @ghost-mantis @kanohivolitakk

“The stars say that in creation, there is destruction. In destruction, there is rebirth. There is no such thing as void; all things are in flux. As above, so below…” Nuju murmured as he gently examined the words that were carved into the walls of the cell with is fingertips. “What ever could that mean?”

“Who cares! It’s not getting us out of here.” Toa Onewa grumbled at his icy cellmate while crossing his arms.

“It’s essentially a message from the past. Whoever was held here before us and carved it felt it was important enough to document while being imprisoned here!” Toa Whenua said excitedly.

“An unknown piece of documentation, almost lost to time. And we are the first to see it in who-even-knows how long!”

“I care.” Nuju said with an exasperated sigh.

Nuju turned to look at Whenua, a look of mild confusion on his face.

“…So does this make you happy?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

“Finding some dusty old writing in a cell?”

“I might be a Toa now, but I will still forever be an archivist at heart.” Whenua chuckled.

“I love this stuff. Graffiti can tell you a lot about a person from a past day and age. Sometimes it could be as simple as ‘remember me, for I was here’ to some ancient helpful piece of advice on how to do a task.”

Nuju nodded, though he didn’t seem nearly as interested as Whenua was.

“…You are weird.” he said with a shake of his head. “So, this writing here, do you actually think it means anything, or is it just nonsense?”

“Well, my theory is that the writer was talking about how a bit of something old can be made into a new object. It might be literal, might be philosophical.” Whenua explained while pointing at the glyphs.

“Maybe musing on their repentance of a past crime?”

“Pfft! Or they were like us and framed by a tyrannical Turaga.” Onewa snickered bitterly. “What a load of good that did them.”

“Hm.” was all Nuju had to say to that.

“But, then why the whole ‘above so below’? Who wrote this, a prophet?”

Nuju shifted around the bars of his cell, trying to get comfortable.

“It all just seems… very philosophical and esoteric for someone who is imprisoned.”

“The phrase ‘as above, so below’ is an ancient quote to describe the idea that what happens in a higher realm or plane of existence either always and or occasionally also happens in a lower realm.“ Whenua answered.

“So they believed in Great Being nonsense.” Onewa sighed. “That poor crazy bastard.”

Nuju listened thoughtfully before shrugging with a slight frown.

“That really doesn’t seem like an important thing to say,” he finally spoke.

After a moment of contemplating the odd writing, Nuju turned to face Whenua.

“So, what about these Great Beings? You don’t actually believe that nonsense, do you?”

“I believe that the ancients believed that they existed. Anything else about the great beings? There’s no documented proof.” Whenua replied while shrugging.

“…And what if Great Beings existed?” Nuju asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

An idea seem to cross Nuju’s mind, but he seemed reluctant to speak, perhaps afraid that Whenua might think him mad.

“Then I owe Nokama 100 widgets.” Whenua chuckled. “She and I got into a debate where I played devils advocate. Then it turned into a bet. In all truth I’m currently undecided on which side to take.”

“I still think the idea of them is stupid. If they were real- why haven’t they bothered to help us?” Onewa snapped.

“Hmph… and here I thought Nokama was a reasonable person.” Nuju muttered with an amused grin.

He then looked at Onewa and sighed.

“If they were real… well, who knows why they haven’t helped us?” Nuju said with an exasperated shrug.

“Maybe they’re simply busy?”

Nuju sat down on the floor and pulled his knees up to his chest.

there was an awkward moment of silence as the Toa of ice let his question hang in the dusty air of the prison they were trapped in.

“Hey, I’m sure we’ll get out of here. It’ll… just take some figuring out.” Whenua softly reassured his fellow Toa brother as he knelt down next to him.

Nuju hummed softly while tracing the carving.

“…I honestly miss being a seer.” he muttered, speaking more to himself than to anyone else in particular.

He raised his head to stare at the carvings on the wall.

“I used to spend so much time studying and interpreting prophecy, and now… look at me.”

Nuju sighed defeatively.

“Uh guys? The Vahki guards are approaching the trapdoor.” Onewa pointed out, gesturing to the ceiling grate.

and just like that, the trapdoor opened-

[vizthedatum]

This is the illness, lack of regular eating, righteous indignation, feeling behind at work even though you’re trying, etc. talking: I hate my ex/spouse.

I do love my friends and partners. I have an immense amount of love in me. Even when I’m like this.

I had an amazing night last night. And I genuinely feel so thankful and amazing due to the love from my friends and partners.

I also am a very whole person who has been going through grief since childhood.

—

I just…

Sometimes I honestly wish I were more naturally a complete prick like my ex. And maybe not so “feminine” and curvy or whatever so that people don’t just see me like a sex object (which is unrelated to me being hypersexual). Because then… maybe people would just have more empathy for me?

That’s not a great logical argument.

People get upset with me and don’t communicate or have empathy. They think I’m just there to please them. And I do. I like doing things for people… even without asking. I am gonna demand more now too.

Isn’t it wild that when I ask for affection or tokens of love (even if non-romantic or non-sexual), people back away?

Or when I tell people that I need space - it’s seen as a rejection? As if they’re entitled to my time without a prior agreement….

Or when I tell people I need more time with them, then they don’t even tell me their boundaries… leaving me wondering and then I ultimately err on giving them space.

Sigh no wonder I chase people who are emotionally unavailable - at least they keep me on a string and I know what to expect. Even if it hurts so fucking much. I know I’m better than that. I deserve better than that.

Isn’t it wild that I tell past sexual partners that I want my orgasms to be a priority and they literally cannot even deal? Or it’s a chore to them? Or they don’t want to? Even when they orgasm every single time?

Or that I think that if I tell someone how to please me or show me affection that it would be taken the wrong way, so I make myself small?

My ex figured me out. They stopped doing things other than basic food things for me a long time ago. And then after a fight or when they needed something, they’d offer me acts of service that they knew I craved. It always came with a price. And if I couldn’t do chores or do stuff with them or whatever, then… I was made to feel like I didn’t deserve affection.

Sometimes I’d fawn so hard just to get them to have sex with me (they gave up foreplay or even trying to get me aroused or trying to get me to cum) - they would come up with so many excuses.

No excuses when they wanted something or when they wanted to get off though.

No excuses to touch me whenever they wanted (and I let them because I craved their touch) or to regulate them.

—

And then past lovers of mine act like they’re so hurt when I don’t orgasm… even when I offer guidance and collaboration. And when I pull back my energy and tell them I don’t want to have sex, they act like they’re so entitled. They interrogate me.

Even past lovers who are also trans and queer and “woke” act like this: “oh but the point of sex isn’t to cum” or something. I had a lover who was also a close friend who emotionally hurt me so badly but whenever I try to tell them, they kinda just don’t get it. Or they just cry because of their own trauma. And they just did it bc of their own trauma responses. I can’t even trust them anymore because they are so fucking dissociated that they don’t actually read what I write, they don’t tell me what they want, they made me feel like just a sexually attractive body who could fill their void with my musings, they don’t engage in ethical polyamory despite wanting to, and more.

I guess I’m just also an asshole for just talking about my life - but I’m a writer. And I write about my life.

[kokyuchusei]

Name / Alias: Lokke/Darth

Are you over 18? : Yes / No

  – W R I T I N G –

Are you selective about who you write with? :

No (anyone) / Semi (most people) / Yes (some people) / Highly (few people) / Private (mutuals only).

Are you selective about who you follow? :

No (anyone) / Semi (most people) / Yes (some people) / Highly (few people).

If your muse is canon, how much do you adhere to canon?:

Not at all / A little /Some / Mostly / Strictly / Not Applicable.

I try to be as faithful to canon as possible. But in some muses in particular, as they don't show that much in the canon media, I try to fill the void with on my own. And if anything I hc be disproved I will change it accordingly

What post lengths do you write?:

One-Liners / Single-Para / Multi-Para / Novella / All of the aforementioned

Do you use icons and/or GIFS? :

No / Gifs / Icons / Yes / Sometimes.

Do you write on other platforms? : No / Yes

I tried to write at discord but I admit it causes me some kind of anxiety as for some reason my mind interprets discord as something to be replied as soon as seen. And I feel as if I NEED to reply as soon as possible and if I visualize the reply, I need to reply it immediately. I can't do that. I prefer drafting things and reply at my own accord.

What level of plots do you write? :

Unplotted / Open-Ended Plots / Semi-Plotted / Fully Plotted Epics / All of the aforementioned

How quickly do you usually respond to threads? :

Very Slow (more than a month) / Slow (3-4 weeks) / Average (1-2 weeks) / Fast (less than one week) / Very Fast (less than three days)

I'm sorry I'm this inconsistent. I may vary from half an hour to months. It really depends. It usually varies from half an hour (if I have A LOT of muse) to a few days or one week or two. But I tend to disappear as my hyperfixation fluctuates to something else until it comes back. I'm horrible, sorry.

What types of themes do you like? :

Adventure / Romance / Fluff / Angst / Violence / Tragedy / Domestic / Family / All of the aforementioned

I'm just not good at writing fluff and domestic. It's not that I entirely dislike it. But my writing drops so many levels when I try to do it.

What genres do you like? : ( Feel free to add! )

High Fantasy / Supernatural / Science Fiction / Historical / Horror / Comedy / Romantic / Drama / Action / Smut / Adventure / Espionage / Dark / Emotional / All of the aforementioned

Are there any themes you’re uncomfortable writing on your blog? : (Not triggers)

No / Yes / Sometimes

Do you have any triggers? Yes

How do you request it tagged? Nothing fancy is needed. Just trigger tw/tw trigger and I'm fine.

  – S H I P P I N G –

What types of relationships are you open to? :

Romantic / Platonic / Enemies / Rivals / Familial / All of the aforementioned

What types of pre-established relationships are you open to? :

Romantic / Platonic / Enemies / Rivals / Familial / All of the aforementioned

Do you have OTPs? :

No / Chemistry Only / Yes 

Do you have NOTPS? :

No / Yes 

What is your muse’s sexual orientation? :

Heterosexual / Heteroflexible / Bisexual / Pansexual / Homoflexible / Homosexual / Demisexual / Sapiosexual / Asexual / Still trying to figure it out / Depends on the muse/verse you’re asking

What is your muse’s romantic orientation? :

Heteroromantic / Heteroflexible / Biromantic / Homoflexible / Homoromantic / Panromantic / Demiromantic / Sapioromantic / Aromantic / Still trying to figure it out / Depends on the muse/verse you’re asking

Are you comfortable writing smut? :

No / Selectively / Yes

How early in a relationship do you ship romantically? :

Autoship / During plotting / After a couple IC interactions / Several IC interactions / Slow burn / Plot dependent / Never

Are you open to toxic ships? :

No / Selectively / Yes / I am not sure we have gotta talk about it first.

Are you open to problematic ships? :

No / Selectively / Yes / I am not sure 

I'm not gonna lie. I do have a lot of problematic/toxic ships in many fandoms. But I'll still have to analyze the situation first.

Are you open to polyamory shipping?:

No / Selectively / Yes / I am not sure 

Are you an exclusive shipper?:

Never / Sometimes / Yes 

Does crack shipping ever happen?:

Nope / Yes / depends

tagged by: @frost-eyed-autumn

[milesedgy]

comic making musings

so i had this idea of writing about my comic making process, because my head is full of insights i've gathered and all these thoughts need some place to go. and also i like talking to no one in particular

so, the comic i've been working on for the past month is called Hard Training, and it's a short nsfw story about a young warrior who gets a crush on the general of her tribe. it's got 8 pages as of me writing this.

even though i've only done 8 pages so far, i think i've learned a lot. this isn't my first comic, but i'm hopeful that it will be the first one i finish. this time i went for a short story because i knew it would keep me motivated to see it through the end, and so far i'd say it's working.

anyway, here are my thoughts.

step one: script

at first i didn't want to write a script, but after drawing the second page it became clear i'd need one. namely because this comic would have Dialogue, which is something i'd have to Remember by the time i had to draw the page.

but the thing that i noticed is that i shouldn't have to worry too much, because you can always go back and edit the script so it fits the flow of the comic. i literally had to edit the script for page 8 after finishing page 7 to make sure the pacing was correct.

step two: thumbnailing

thumbnailing to me is always the most boring part of making a comic, but also the quickest to finish. since i'm drawing it digitally, i don't have to worry about it as much. i just sketch out the whole page, and then adjust as needed.

the process is more about figuring out how much information i can fit into a page, and how to make the pacing satisfying.

i make sure to place the text on the page, just so i get an idea of where the balloons should go. this is very important for comics, since you dont want the balloons to cover important information.

for the thumbnails of page 8, i decided to place the sketch for each panel on a different layer, because it feels more organized. i can just move the whole layer, and try to fit it all together like a puzzle.

step three: drawing

this is pretty straight forward i guess. i think the only problem i have is that after drawing the same characters so many times, it does start to get a little boring. but at the same time, i'm a lot faster at drawing them.

the characters ended up changing a little as the comic progresses, as i got used to drawing them. eventually, you start to learn little shortcuts to draw them, it becomes almost a mechanical process. it's great to figure out what features make each character unique and stand out from each other.

i also made the decision to keep the comic in black and white, because it might not seem like much, but coloring does take a long time. i have a lot of respect for anyone who goes the extra mile to color their pages. myself, i've decided to do a little shading in the later pages, and it also makes a big difference in the art quality, without it taking too long to finish.

step four: backgrounds

this is still technically the drawing stage, but i think of it as two separate stages. anyway, drawing backgrounds is actually pretty important, because people start to notice if your characters are just standing in a blank void for too long.

i like to think of backgrounds as having two types: outdoors and indoors.

with outdoor backgrounds, you have a lot more "creative freedom", especially if it takes place in a natural environment such as a forest. you just need to get across the feeling of a forest, so you can draw random trees and it works.

with indoor backgrounds though, you need to think a bit more carefully about it. indoor environments follow a certain logic, as most of them are created for a specific purpose. so you can't just draw random objects laying around to get the feeling of an office for example. you have to keep track of where each individual element is, and why they were placed there in the first place.

the best solution is making a floor plan. i also like to create houses in the sims to use as reference, although it's not gonna come up in Hard Training. a floor plan is enough to keep track of where everything is though, so you can avoid things like a potted plant just moving across the room for no reason. (unless the potted plant is supposed to move of course)

step five: layout

once the art is all finished, i start working on the layout. first, i draw all the lines separating each panel from each other (i'm sure there's a proper name for them, but i don't know what they're called)

if you read my comic you might have noticed that i'm quite fond of letting certain parts of the characters poke out of the panel, especially their pointy ears. i just think it looks cool....

sometimes a panel doesn't have any lines around it, instead it's just floating as if part of the page's "background" with other panels in the foreground.

i also make sure to draw all the balloons. the balloons always have to be in front of all the art, or else they're really difficult to read. you can have balloons that poke out of the panels too, or balloons that are contained by them.

another thing i like to do it sometimes hide the balloon's tail behind a character. it doesnt look as intrusive, and it makes it seem like it's truly part of the story.

and then, i write all the onomatopoeias too, making sure that they're readable. and the last thing i do is write the page number on the bottom.

step six: posting

now comes the fun part, sharing the page online. it's not a difficult step, all i have to do is post it on comic fury and that's that.

i hate to admit it, but seeing the numbers go up does motivate me to keep going. i like that there's people who enjoy my comic enough to subscribe even though it doesnt have that many pages yet. and i also like to imagine new readers who stumble upon it and already have more material to read, as opposed to those early readers who had to wait for updates.

it's the best feeling ever when you find a new comic that interests you, and that comic has a lot of pages posted already.

step seven: the last one was the last step actually

so that's it, idk how to end this post! i think overall i'm pretty happy with how my comic has been going, i'm really motivated to see it through the end, even if its just a silly idea.

all in all, i want to hopefully build enough confidence to try a longer comic with a more complex plot. but for now i'm happy with this. i haven't been working on anything else while i draw this comic, which is kind of a bummer. i'm afraid that if i take a break i'll end up forgetting it and giving up on it.

but i'll just have to see how it goes...

[walkeddeath]

[ hospital ]   my  muse  awakens  in  a  hospital,  finding  your  muse  by  their  side,  asking  what  happened - @walkedfire

  there had been a weather alert for dry thunderstorms back in LA, a term gen hadn't heard before, though after a quick search had realized it was the same as heat lightning. Nothing too crazy, thankfully.  they remember almost texting buck to let him know her plane might be delayed and to not worry about picking her up from the airport if it got to be too late. they also remember remembering that they had planned on surprising him by showing up a day earlier than planned, so they'd texted maddie instead for any just in case scenarios.

she hadn't had too many opportunities to surprise buck in a while due to a sudden increase in travel for work. they'd been trying, and more or less succeeding at it, to make long distance work. talking on the phone daily, video calls, ignoring the cost of said calls ––– and it wasn't all bad. still, gen was starting to get restless and tired of the constant distance. for once, she wanted to stay and of course it came at the precise moment it was impossible.

they'd decided to only half mention it to buck, not wanting him to think that she was planning on a drastic career move just for him or because of him. he'd been a part of it, but not the whole reason, more the branch off point. they'd tabled it for when she was back, some conversations are just best done face to face. It’ll happen soon, they’ll be back in LA for a few months solid this time, it won’t have to be done right away.

they'd sent him a quick i love you text before getting on the plane, telling him that she'd be radio silent for a while, blaming it on something for work. gen can't remember what she'd said or what he'd said, just that there had been a response that she hadn't been able to read before being told to put her phone up. when she looks back at it in the future, she'll notice odd little hints of something bad on its way. omens, foreshadowing, some of it eerily blatant ––– none of it picked up on at the time.  

the flight had been fine, nothing out of the ordinary, until the plane had started approaching LA. something in the air had changed and it wasn't just the storm, gen doesn't know what was out there, only that she'd felt something coming. It’d felt like a panic attack only not, a sudden pain in her chest and a deep dread in her stomach. still, still, they'd pushed it away. 

her phone had died on the plane, and the driver hadn't had any spare cables to charge it with, and she'd promised maddie that she'd check in with her after landing. plus, she wanted to see where buck was. the flight had shaken something into her and they'd spent the last stretch of it wanting nothing more than to spend some time with him, exist together, sit in silence or watch another movie from their combined list of shit they never got to watch before. 

  The silence at the apartment wasn’t all too new, but there had been something wrong about it. While she’d figured he wouldn’t be home, storms always produced the strangest emergencies, they've heard enough stories hanging out with the 118 to know he wouldn't be, she hadn't expected a heavyness to the still, the void air, the lack of any life after she'd unlocked the front door and walked in. something wasn't right, it had been a soft confirmation, just not of the what.

She’d charged her phone while grabbing a towel from the dryer, wondering if she should go to the station just to check in, but with the weather as bad as it was, something told her to wait. They’d gone with making coffee and had been in the middle of filling the pot with water when her phone had come back to life. a baragge of alerts of missed calls one after another, it hadn't registered right away just how many there were, most from maddie and a few from… everyone.  

things had started to move in slow motion. texts were coming in rapid fire, the first wave delayed and sent from around the same time. she'd slipped into denial easily, quickly, telling herself it was nothing that maybe they'd all seen something on the tv about flights getting cancelled or getting redirected or maybe she was just imagining the way her phone seemed like it was going to explode. everything was fine , it had to be, there was no reason why it wouldn't be. 

she'd still checked the messages, even though she'd already decided that nothing was wrong, all just simply begging her to call one of them. any of them. asking where they were and what was going on and if they needed someone to pick them up, and gen had slipped further into denial. stop worrying, he's fine, he probably got someone to let it slip you had been lying about getting back tomorrow. 

even while in deep deep reality avoidance, gen had known she was lying to herself. that she'd needed to call someone back, send a quick check in text, text him call him check in with him ––– and they had. his phone had been off, she hadn't thought too much of it at the time but it was suddenly all consuming a fear.

they texted him first, then maddie, then hen, and everyone else after that. just a quick "sorry, phone died". maddie had called almost instantly, her voice off, telling gen that she hadn't wanted to say it in a voicemail but that she needed to come to the hospital. 

that there had been an accident. 

she'd asked if gen needed someone to pick her up and gen still only half remembers that part. in that moment, she had felt gravity turn off. couldn't understand how everything was staying tethered to earth. she'd wanted to say that she could do it, no problem, to just not worry and focus on why-ever she was in the hospital. 

  humor as a coping mechanism is an old friend of gen's, as is rage, they don't remember the remark she'd given to maddie, just that it had fallen flat. hadn't sounded right. it had been too highly pitched, too erratic, too ... not right. she'd insisted on getting someone to pick gen up,  gen doesn't and won't remember what she said in response only that she'd ended up at the hospital suddenly but also four years later. Time had stopped working at some point earlier in the night.

Gen hadn’t waited for anyone to come get them before trying to get someone to take her to him. They knew it was him there was no way it couldn’t be. they hadn't let her back, not even when she'd started crying, not even when she'd begged to the point of dropping to her knees.  it had taken her screaming for a familiar face to appear behind her. of all the people to come to her aid, it had been Athena, who had simply placed a hand on her shoulder and told her to let her take care of it.  Gen had let her, something they’d never done before, but only after they’d seen the look in her eyes and felt that overwhelming sense of knowing. Later, gen will realize they knew from the moment the turbulence in the plane had surged and from the lack of any presence in the living room and the endless sea of texts.

At least she knows he isn’t dead. If he was, gen would have seen him. They wouldn't have been able to hear his soul ( though, it is faint, it's distant, it sounds pained). athena tells gen that she'll let maddie know they're there so she can okay letting her back. that they needed to prepare themself for something a little more serious than a knock on the head.

gen will remember how maddie had held onto them and how they started crying without even seeing the situation. they won't remember having to stuff down their tears to the point that it was making their throat ache and chest split. she will, however, remember how human he looked. 

they'd almost collapsed, knees buckling and faltering,  when they first entered bucks room. Everything had suddenly and violently been too much. gen doesn't remember who held her when she did ultimately fall. whose hand she'd clung to like a goddamn child. He’d looked so painfully and fragily human and it had made them hang back, forced a non rush to his side. 

They won’t remember feeling like if she even touched him he’d break. She will remember the key words of the run down.

lightning ... struck by it  ... died ... but came back.

  in the span of weeks to follow, several things happen back to back. gen takes an extended leave from work, still debates leaving entirely. they visit buck multiple times a day, practically lives in the hospital with him now. She stops sleeping because in her dreams, despite the fact that she's with him and he’s alive and they’re happy and in love everything is a touch not right. she's not her and he isn't him and everytime it ends with him dying. again and again and again and always in front of her, always some cruel fucking joke of a thing, and she doesn't know why the gods are fucking with her this time but she's ready to punch one.

  bobby hears them crying one day and he reminds gen of her dad just enough to push her to hug him and hold on tight, refusing to let go, crying for what feels like an hour. she prays with him as well, only once, but gen is willing to try anything and everything to bring buck back. due to him not being actually dead, she can't find him in the in between. if she hadn't been on the plane when it happened, she might have been able to be there for those three minutes.

  they would have been able to say what they needed to say, tell him everything that she's kept back from him. tell him she wants to stop with the work travel, to get married , to settle down and maybe possibly start a family with him because he's the one her soul has been looking for she knows it she knows it ––– but all she can do is wait. keep him company while he recovers, wait until he wakes up, and they've yelled at him to do so both at his bedside and into his pillow at home. 

  after the two week mark, the talks of what comes next start, and gen can't handle those, not yet, but she stays. hen tells her that she needs to go home and rest, gen fights it but she's too weak to really put any effort into the argument. she knows that she looks like hell and needs rest. it's only for a few hours, it barely does anything, but she does take a shower that uses all the hot water and continues standing under the water even as it becomes ice, only passively registering it.

they return the next day after being told she had to come back in and the future talks are starting to sound like near and present danger ones and then ... they tell her about the will. it doesn’t take her too much by surprise, it’s a little overwhelming, and she makes a note to try and figure out why he didn't tell them about it. it’s a question for when he's back. 

gen has no real say in the choices to be made, they might be resemble an old married couple in the eyes of the family but the hospital doesn't care. nothing is up to her and it makes her rage and she keeps finding herself on the roof to scream or in her jeep to cry. 

The rage is the first solid emotion other than sad that she’s felt for weeks but sad is not the right word because sad is when you see a frowning puppy and this is like a knife stabbing into your heart and brain over and over before slicing at your soul. 

she's in the room when it's decided to give him the chance to come back without any assistance. gen doesn't know what to say only that she's willing to do whatever to make him comfortable and happy, even if it means having to lose him, and they hate thinking about that being a possibility. Even though they're pretty sure they'll meet him again. They’d be fine with falling in love all over again. Possibly even having a grand adventure and figuring out life together again. 

something in her tells her that the agains arent a fantasy. that's all she can really count on. so they stay, they demand being able to be in the room and it’s barely even a question she would be. it's touch and go and gen feels like she's talking to him somewhere else and she wants to go to that place, wants to check and see if buck is there, if he’s safe. See if he’s afraid. Offer him her hand if he is. 

they're with him when he wakes up. they don't know if they scream or not, but later, in the dead middle of night, when she's curled up in his hospital bed with him, her throat will feel raw. she'll feel an ancient kind of exhaustion and she'll sleep solidly for the first time in almost a month. 

They think about trying to go for humor, but, they can’t. What they can do is reach out and brush her fingertips over his temple and as gently as possible through his hair. 

"you died, buck. i'm sorry i wasn't here i was ... it doesn't honestly fucking matter anymore. i'm just really fucking tired of crying. But… like, forget that for right now cause just like .... you're alive, buck. you're really alive and i love you. Everyone is waiting to see you, i can go get them, we all missed you. ."