#teal writing fic

[fluffisgreater]

from the depth, to the shoreline

Summary:

Childe like to drown his feeling. Literally. After Osial, he frequently goes to lakes, usually Luhua Pool. Making sure no one is around before stepping into the water. He'll float a bit before taking a deep breath and let himself sink. Before, back in the abyss, inside the water is where he feels most safe, apart from his Master's side. But here in Liyue, there’s no Master. It aches something terrible in Ajax's chest, because Liyue used to be warm. It almost feels like home. But no more. So he returns to the water, where it feels more safe, much like a creature of the depth he truly is inside. When he emerges, everything will be muffled either from lack of oxygen or the after-effect of the underwater silence. There'll be dizziness, but it is worth it for the few moments in which he becomes one with hydro. Free from thoughts of his mission, about Zhongli, about Liyue. But of course, nothing lasts. Not for him. Ajax is never that lucky. One of Zhongli's Adepti saw him.

Chapter 1 : Seeking The Nostalgic Abyss

The winds blow softly, making a hypnotic sound and shaking the red leaves on the trees. Some of it falling into the water and creating a ripple. The motion of water and the reflected sunlight gives an illusion that something is shifting slightly. It enhances the mystery and beauty of Luhua Pool, giving no other obvious change despite currently hosting an extra person in its water.  

Childe— no, Ajax blankly stared at the overflowing blue around him, eyes absently focusing on some fish. His thoughts have been turning round and round, just like the fish in front of him. This fish appears to have taken a liking to him, twirling around and picking at his hair. It's a cute playful fish worthy to be pampered and Ajax usually will coo at it, but his mind is currently elsewhere. He just can't make sense of it.

‘How can Zhongli be Morax?’

Besides the ridiculous development that the God he has been searching for months is actually the same person that has been dining with him almost every day— ’How scary...’ Something in Ajax whispers. It sounds afraid and thrilled at the same time. How can he smile, tell stories and eat with him as if he doesn't have the power to fatally wound Ajax? Ajax bitterly realized how many openings he gave away. Zhongli is always so steady without changing his rhyme. It is a lulling sort of peace. He never did give a reaction when Ajax purposely tried to provoke and needle him at the start of their relationship. ‘What makes you think he won't kill you later?’, the voice whispers sweetly. —Ajax still can't wrap around his head that Zhongli is Morax. Klutzy with mora Zhongli, who can't cook quickly to save his life and always savor his tea like some kind of tea connoisseur? Keeping aside that (endearing) part of him and his own mixed feelings, Ajax it's genuinely confused. Wasn't Morax supposed to be a Warrior God? A fierce dragon that successfully defeated other Gods that threatened Liyue in the past? How can he be that unassuming consultant who seems to have an endless story to tell? From the few interactions Ajax has with dragons in Snezhnaya, they're always callous and cruel to other beings. They're powerful but arrogant, only holding themselves as a special existence. Even among their species they hold those pride and won’t associate with other dragons, seeing only themselves as the most important. It is that arrogance that makes their downfall. Childe always did have the most fun while fighting them. He always comes to that brink between life and death whenever he must deal with them. It is one of the reasons that makes him very excited when he is sent to Liyue. Unfortunately instead of the thrill and satisfying scars, what he got here is a wound that can’t be defended with his blade. It is a wound that does not cause his flesh to separate and tear, but still manages to be even more painful than that.

Because the wound is not physical. Surely even if the region is different, Liyue dragon will have some similarities? How can a person like Zhongli— Ah. Of course. Ajax wants to slam his head at the rock behind him. So he did. Letting out a few bubbles while at it. Turns out that having an epiphany underwater is a bad idea. Childe gasp as he burst out of the water and hold his bleeding head. Cursing he slowly trekked back to the land. He can't believe how stupid and careless this realization is. Morax's true form is said to be unknown. Although he is often depicted as a majestic dragon, there's a talk and record that said Morax is part Qilin. Of course, expecting him to act territorial like other dragons is a no-go! Childe wouldn't have wasted a few weeks messing around Adepti's domain if he know this! “Why is everyone obsessed with only the Dragon part? No wait, why didn't I think of that! “ Childe mutters furiously while walking back to the Northland Bank. Ignoring the whisper and suspicious stare thrown at him. Walking back to his room, he take out the files named [Beings to Fight in Liyue], flipping around until he got the section he want to.

Qilin. One of the illuminated beasts in Liyue, a creature with supernatural abilities, including heightened combat prowess, extreme longevity, and the ability to speak human language. The Qilin are gentle creatures who refuse to harm any animal, living a vegetarian lifestyle, with fur as soft as clouds. However, when they do not live in times of peace, they will fight.

“Huh, that makes so much sense.” Childe trailed off. Actually, he remembered halfway that in Liyue, a dragon is depicted as not only powerful but also wise, symbolizing both power and leadership. So even if Morax being part Qilin is not true, it still fits Zhongli's temperament. Still imagining him as a part of a gentle beast like Qilin makes it easier to connect Morax's identity with the man Childe once knew. But what use is knowing this fact now?

Suddenly the files in his hands become less interesting and feel even mocking to him. Childe silently closes it and put it back into the hidden compartment.

The next times Childe decides to sink himself, he stays under the water for much longer. If the first time he sinks into Liyue water was for the sake of ruminating and filtering the information that shook his world, then the times after that are purely for the sake of dealing with his emotion. To put it simply, Childe like to drown his feeling. Literally. After Osial, when he stays too long in Liyue Harbor, there's an urge to search for lakes. Usually, he will end up heading to Luhua Pools. It's because no one loiters there aside from a few treasure hoarders. The fact that the water is clean also makes it an easy choice, he likes to appreciate the view around him.

”Xiangsheng, you’re not joking when you said it's beautiful!” Childe can't help but gasp at his surrounding. He received a smile, before the man standing beside him replied with fondness that can be heard, eyes already looking from the start to see his reaction,  “Of course not, I did say I will bring you to the most wonderful place in Liyue. I’m glad, it seems you have taken a liking to this place?” “Yes! The water is very clean and the pools are fascinating too! Oh, I wish I can share this with Tonia, she would love it. I should’ve brought my kamera.” Childe cant help to lament. His princess always appreciates the scenery he encounters on his journey. This place might be one of the best places Childe has visited in Liyue. A hum of thought escape the man's mouth. His gaze is still fixated on the redhead instead of the beautiful scenery around him,  “Hmn, Tonia is your sister correct? Although I too, didn’t bring any kamera with me, there’s a talented painter named Veemer that recently looks for inspiration from this place. It is said that he likes to wander around here. Perhaps we can see if he got some painting you can buy for your sister.” “Huh.” “Huh?” Amber eyes look at him questioningly. Holding his laugh, Childe said with a grin,  “I mean, of course, you would know a painter that likes to wander around beautiful spots. Sure then! Let's walk around and maybe we will bump into him. You can tell me the stories about this place while at it.” A nod and a satisfied smile,  “My pleasure. Luhua Pools has been said to be an ancient garden made from deep pure affection. Although no one is sure whose affection it is and toward who that feeling is directed. Two statues stand tall near the pools as if guarding the garden. People have said that those statue eyes will light up sometimes—” “Can the statue move?! You think they’ll make a good fight?” Childe gasped in delight at the prospect of a fight. A startled laugh before, “Childe, please wait—”

It's not as if Ajax has other reasons to choose these pools. 

Full chapter on ao3

[ckret2]

On chapter 38 of human Bill Cipher is still the Mystery Shack's prisoner, the most exciting, gripping, action-packed, page-turning chapter so far:

Bill gets locked in the bathroom.

He handles it super well.

####

Bill thought he heard a door slam somewhere far off in the shack—but every time he peeked around the shower curtain, there was no sign of anyone else would come into the bathroom any time soon. Good. Last thing he needed was a human coming upstairs to give him trouble for the crime of daring to be naked with a door open. (Of all the stupid things. He wasn't embarrassed, he was used to floating around in nothing but a top hat and bow tie, if he wasn't bothered why should they be bothered, was what he wanted to know...)

As Bill dried off and dressed, he considered what he'd do next. If someone else was back in the house—Dipper, probably—then Bill wouldn't be able to continue his planned mischief. Pity. He'd hardly had a chance to abuse his freedom. But then, Dipper loved to avoid Bill. Maybe Bill could chase him upstairs and have the living room to himself until Mabel got back.

He dressed, pulled the towels off the mirrors, quickly poked his wet hair into something approximating a triangular cloud, and turned toward the door.

Somewhere during the process of getting dressed, he must have bumped into the door, because it had swung halfway shut. Not a problem. He'd found that as long as a door was open at all, it was possible to get through the gap. Even if it was a narrow gap. If you tried to squeeze through it, it somehow widened for you. Such was the illusive trickery of doors.

But. But. Why should he try to squeeze through? His current 3D flesh body was not made for gliding through infinitesimally small gaps. And he wasn't about to let a door be the master of him. He knew how to handle them now. He'd done this in the living room. Time to show off a little.

Bill turned his back on the door, shut his eyes, simply visualized walking straight through an open doorway and out into the hallway, and confidently walked backwards.

The door made a click sound. It stopped moving. Bill froze, back pressed against the wood.

Something went wrong here.

Bill turned around. The door was very firmly closed. He leaned against it experimentally. It remained closed. It sure didn't seem like an illusion he could walk straight through. Had he done it wrong?

After several more failed attempts to walk through the doorway, Bill reluctantly conceded that for some reason this door wasn't about to yield to his mind tricks. He was quite firmly trapped in the bathroom.

Oh, how embarrassing.

No, no—no, it didn't have to be embarrassing. This would be funny. Somebody else would need the bathroom eventually, right? He could just wait here until the humans returned—maybe sit on the toilet, meditate a while—and when someone opened the door, he'd calmly say, "Hey." And after they jumped out of their skin, he'd stroll out the door. They'd never know how he got in there. It would haunt them.

He shut the toilet lid, sat, crossed his legs, shut his eyes, and settled in to wait.

####

He lasted three minutes.

Bill groaned and dragged his hands down his face. "Ugh, it's been hours. Where the heck is everyone!" He stood and angrily pounded on the door. "Okay, I'm sick of this! My lifespan's too finite to waste it in here!"

Who was here? Probably just Dipper, right? Somewhere downstairs? "HEY!" He stomped on the floorboards. "I'M TALKING TO YOU, UH—uhh, uhhhh—MABEL'S BROTHER?! Name?!" What was his name. He and Mabel had those cute matchy twin names—same length and same first two letters— "MARIO? MATTY? MAGNI? MABON? Isn't it Mabon? That sounds right, I'm sure it's Mabon." He stomped on the floor again. "It's really petty of you to ignore me until I get your name right, Mabon! No, wait, he went by a nickname, what was his nickname." Bill paced back and forth across the bathroom floor. "It was a constellation, right? ORION? No. TRIANGULUM? No, I'd remember if it was Triangulum. What's his sign—VIRGO? C'mon, kid!"

Bill glowered at the door. It showed no signs of opening any time in the near future. Where was that brat?

####

Dipper's lungs were heaving and his heart pounding as he pedaled toward the spot where Bill had cracked open the dimensional rift and started Weirdmageddon.

It was easy to find. He just had to locate the fault line that had opened in the ground and follow it until the view of the trees around him began bending oddly in the air, as though being refracted in water—the air was so thick with invisibly-sealed miniature dimensional rifts. He kept going until he found the sign they'd planted last summer:

Mabel's Fault

He still cringed every time he thought of the name they'd given the scar in the earth. He'd proposed it before realizing how it sounded; but Mabel had laughed hysterically and the name stuck.

He didn't see any sign of them around the fault. "MABEL! Can you hear me?! Bill, where are you!" There was no reply. Dipper screamed his frustration at the top of his lungs.

He was a terrible brother. He'd been one then and he was one today. He never should have left Mabel alone with Bill.

Where else could they have gone? Maybe Bill's corpse? Dipper abandoned his bike and ran off the trail, deeper into the woods. "I'm coming, Mabel!"

####

Bill frowned contemplatively at the mirror, finger tapping his chin.

He had painted his zodiac on the glass with tooth paste.

He pointed around the mirror one symbol at a time. "Okay, that one's Jesús," he said, "that's Wendy, that's Stanley—Pine Tree!" Bill smacked the sink triumphantly. "YOUR NAME'S PINE TREE! Stop ignoring me, where are you!"

There was no answer.

"Maybe he went out again," Bill muttered.

Mabel had to be back soon, right? Bill pressed his face to the bathroom window. He could see Stan's car and Waddles below; no Mabel.

"HEY SHOOTING STAR! Are you back yet?!" Bill listened for a reply. "Star girl? Mabel? Buddy? Pal? My hero? My only friend? Please?"

####

Mabel was biking back from the hardware store, her bike's basket stuffed full of spray paint cans. She'd brought along the flashlight with the height-altering crystal so she could shrink down the bags of spray paint cans to fit in the basket. It was a good choice. There had been a sale. She had sooo many colors now.

She passed the grocery store; weird, the parking lot had filled up with a crowd since the last time she passed by. Did she hear music?

She slowed to stare at the crowd—then hit the breaks. "Candy?! Grenda?!"

Across the parking lot, they turned and waved. "Mabel!"

Mabel pedaled up to them. "Hey guys! What are you doing hanging out in a parking lot!"

"Radio station live appearance," Candy said, pointing toward a red van parked next to the grocery store. A vinyl wrap around the van identified it as affiliated with Falls Radio. In front of it, Bodacious T was struggling to set up a tent over a white folding table. Candy went on, "We are here to win cheap prizes at the games. They have trivia, 'name that tune,' a prize wheel..."

Grenda pumped a fist in the air. "I'm gonna win a water bottle and a tiny backpack!"

"Oooh." Mabel craned her neck, trying to peek between the crowd to the front table. "What are the prizes?"

Candy said, "Radio station t-shirts, CDs, gift cards..."

"The grand prize is concert tickets for some old guy," Grenda said dismissively.

"The gift cards are a better value," Candy said.

"What old guy?" Mabel caught sight of a poster taped up to the side of the van. She gasped. "Phrancisco?! From Invisible Yellow Plastic?!"

"You know him?" Candy asked, surprised.

"Yes?! Invisible Yellow Plastic was this amazing 80's band! They were pioneers in the local new wave scene! I've got some of their albums!" Courtesy of Grunkle Ford, who had hyped them up to her in the first place and also told her everything she knew about them. "And based on the album covers, Phrancisco was so hot thirty years ago?"

Candy and Grenda absorbed this new information with thoughtful looks.

Mabel climbed off her bike, stuck the tiny bags of spray paint in one pocket, and used the height-altering flashlight to shrink her bike and stick it in the other pocket. "Ladies. We have got to get these tickets. I'm dropping everything for this quest." She put her hands on Candy and Grenda's shoulders. "With our powers put together, we can win all the gift cards, tiny backpacks, water bottles, and concert tickets we could ever want. Are you with me?!"

Candy and Grenda raised their fists. "Yeah!"

"It's time for radio station live appearance mini games."

####

Bill sat leaning against the bathroom cabinet, idly flipping the toilet lid up and down to entertain himself, staring at the door.

"I'm sure Mabel will be back any minute," he told himself.

####

Bill had constructed a sensory deprivation tank in the bathtub.

He'd filled the tub with about a foot of hot water, dumped in an entire bag of bath salts he'd found by prying a wooden board out of the side of the cabinet, plugged his ears with cotton balls held in place with bandaids, turned out the lights, and draped a towel over the tub.

He was going to meditate in that, and use the boost to his psychic capabilities to send a telepathic SOS to Mabel. Mabel or whoever was sensitive enough to receive it. He wasn't picky.

His nerves were too frazzled for him to drop straight into a trance. He tried to calm himself. Deep breath—wow, the bath salts reeked of lavender—deep breath through the mouth then. Calm down. Be still. Empty mind. Everything would be fine—everything would always be fine for him—there was no need to stress.

Slowly, he relaxed.

Bill's sleep schedule had been in a state of utter disarray since the moment he'd been dumped in a body that needed sleep. Over the past day, the sum total of sleep he'd gotten had been an unplanned nap last night before dinner, and a fretful nightmare-laden spell from 3 a.m. to dawn.

Bill fell asleep in the tub.

His head sank below the water. He spluttered and flailed his way back to sitting upright.

He took the towel off his head and threw it to the ground. "That didn't work." Kinda comfortable though. He lay back in the tub. What else could he try?

Maybe Wendy would come back. She said she liked hanging out here when she was avoiding people, and it sounded like she wasn't too keen on her friends—maybe she'd get sick of them and return? Yeah. Yeah! Sure, Bill was sure she'd do that. "Wendyyy! Hey! You didn't happen to come back, did you?!" He waited. "Come on! I know you're here!"

####

"No wait, this'll be sick," Nate said. He was laying down on the walkway around the top of the water tower, wriggling out under the safety railing so his face and shoulders hung out in open air.

Wendy laughed. "Dude. What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna spray paint something on the bottom of the floor. Everyone'll go, 'How did that get there?'" He waved a hand at Lee. "Gimme a spray can."

Lee handed Nate a can of purple paint, and he slid out a little bit farther. His belly button was level with the edge of the walkway.

Wendy stopped laughing. "Whoa," she said. "Careful. What are you, crazy?" She put one hand on the railing.

"Yeah. Crazy genius. It's cool, look." Nate slid out another couple of inches. "I can just—lift my legs and hang from the railing by my knees, like a monkey—" He lifted his feet off the walkway, and immediately lost balance and slid forward. "Hey—"

Time seemed to slow down. Wendy had trained for this, the water tower's wooden legs were basically thin tree trunks, if she slid under the railing she could grab Nate and swing into one of the tower legs, they could slide down that to the bottom—

Lee dropped flat on Nate's legs, using his weight to pin him in place. "HEY!"

Wendy grabbed Nate's shirt. Together, she and Lee dragged him back onto the walkway. Nate rolled onto his back and stared at the sky, eyes wide.

Lee sat beside him and laughed nervously. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Whoo. Gimme a sec."

"What the heck, Nate!" Wendy was gripping the railing hard enough her arms shook. She tried to sound calm. "You almost got yourself killed, you dummy!" Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest.

"I'm fine," Nate said shakily. "I'm fine, just... lay off."

"Fine. Sor-ry. I'm just trying to make sure you don't literally die."

Lee gave Wendy an exasperated look. Nate closed his eyes and sighed. "Yeah, okay, mom."

The back of her neck went hot. Oh no, absolutely not. The mom friend was the opposite of the cool girl. That was the boring friend who drove everyone around and was too busy worrying to have fun. She'd never been mom-friended in her life.

"Hey, are you okay?" Lee asked Wendy. "I mean—this idiot's near death experience aside—" (Nate punched Lee's knee.) "—you've been kinda high-strung lately. Is everything cool?"

"Of course I'm cool," Wendy said automatically. Be cool, girl. "Sorry. Work junk's got me stressed. Soos keeps randomly closing at the last minute, and I'm losing hours, and... it's been getting to me, I guess. I just need to chill." She took in a deep breath. "Nate," she put a hand on his shoulder and said solemnly, "if you want to fall on your head and lose your last eight brain cells, I won't get in your way. I support your dreams, man."

"Pssh, shut up!" Nate shoved Wendy off and sat up, laughing. "Okay, new plan. What if I just—stay on the floor, but reach my arm under the side to paint it."

Lee asked, "How are you gonna see what you're drawing?"

Nate considered that. "You can reach under and use your phone like a mirror."

Wendy bit back the urge to tell them they were idiots. Were her friends not maturing fast enough, or was she just getting boring?

She leaned against the water tower and shut her eyes.

####

Laying on the bathroom floor, Bill said, "You know what, Cool Girl? I'm beginning to think you're ignoring me too." Everyone was here and everyone was ignoring him.

He heaved himself to his feet. How long had he been in here. Time lost all meaning in a sensory deprivation tank. It could have been days. He was beginning to get hungry. What would he do when his body needed food? Not to mention dehydration! Where was he going to get water in a bathroom?!

Bill did not, at that moment, possess the greatest clarity of mind.

He flinched in surprise at the sight of another human in the bathroom, and then his hopes went up—and then they went back down. Oh. Right. He'd taken the towels off the mirrors. Just him.

"Thanks for disappointing me," he snapped sarcastically at the human body in the reflection. "Again. As usual." He pointed at the reflection. "Hey—hey! What's that look on your face for? Don't you take that attitude with me, buster! It's your fault I'm in this mess!"

His reflection continued to glare wrathfully at him. It made him madder. The reflection's wrath deepened.

"WHAT?!" Bill demanded. "You keep your mouth shut, I'm the one shouting here! What do you have to be angry about?! I've never done anything to you! You owe me everything! I feed you, I clothe you, I wash you, and what do you give me in return?! Backaches and headaches! I could have been home partying with my friends by now, but do you know who's holding me back?! YOU!" He jabbed his finger against the mirror. The reflection jabbed a finger back. Voice cracking with rage, Bill squawked, "Don't you raise your hand at me, you little—!" He curled his hand in a fist, intending only to threaten the reflection; but when it shook a fist back at him, he reared back with a roar and punched the mirror. The glass crunched beneath his knuckles. His knuckles also crunched.

Bill stared at the broken glass, snapped out of his rage by the pain. Dozens of fragmented reflections stared back at him. He rubbed the stinging cuts on his knuckles.

"Of course," he said. "The solution's so obvious! Blood sacrifice!"

####

As Dipper passed the water tower, he spied an incomprehensible purple squiggle spray painted to the bottom of the walkway. How did that get there? Had Bill and Mabel been here? Maybe Mabel had done it with one of her spray cans to send a signal? Or maybe Bill had used his magic to float up and spray some magical alien rune from below.

He climbed up to look.

Nothing. No signs they'd been here, either. Dipper pulled out a town map he'd marked up with the locations Bill was most likely to hit, and peered toward them one by one from his vantage point; but he didn't see Bill or Mabel, nor any evidence of Bill's influence terrorizing the town. He was out of leads.

He climbed back down. He'd bike back to the shack, call Soos, maybe call the police, look for clues around the shack, chug some Mabel Juice for energy—desperate times—and join the hunt again...

As the Mystery Shack emerged from behind the trees, he saw, from another direction, Mabel biking up. His heart leaped into his throat.

Mabel waved. "Hey, Dipper!" She kicked down her kickstand and dismounted. "Did you find the wigglers?"

"Mabel!" Dipper almost tripped in his haste to get off his bike and pull her into a tight hug.

"Dipper? What is it?" Mabel awkwardly hugged him back. She whispered, "Why do you smell so bad."

"Are you okay?!" He held her out at arm's length, looking her up and down. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Wh—? No, I'm great! I might've kinda exploded a couple of tiny spray paint cans in my pocket, though." She pulled up her sweater, showing the purple and orange stains on one side of her skirt. "Buuut—" She held out four slips of colorful card stock. "Guess who won awesome concert tickets!"

"What about Bill," Dipper demanded, "did Bill kidnap you?"

"What? No." Mabel shook her head, bewildered. "I locked him in the shack while I went out for more spray paint."

"Well, he's not there now! I searched everywhere!" Dipper gasped, "Then—he must have escaped while you were out."

"What?! But—how—"

"I don't know, but I searched the whole shack a couple of hours ago—"

"A couple of hours?!"

"—and there's no sign of him—"

"Then he could be anywhere by now!" Mabel squeezed her hands together, crushing her tickets. "Oh, this is bad. It's all my fault if he causes trouble! We've gotta find him before Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford get home!"

"But where?" Dipper asked. "I've already looked everywhere he might go! The basement, the fault, his corpse, town hall, that street with all the katanas in the gutter for some reason..."

"You're thinking like Bill the evil overlord, I can think like Bill the party animal! We've talked about all kinds of fun places he'd go if he was free!" She got back on her bike. "Come on, I'll tell you on the way to town, we can split up to search!"

Dipper got on his bike to follow, but said, "Come on, do you really think he'd waste time doing something fun now that he's free to be evil again?"

"Fun and evil are the same thing to him! Dipper, I can guarantee you, if Bill summons his terrible friends back to town, the first place he's taking them is the Putt Hutt," she said. "Because he wants to force the townspeople to run through giant minigolf obstacles, and also teach the Lilliputtians to do war crimes."

"Okay, I believe you," Dipper said. "Lead the way."

####

As Mabel and Dipper biked away from the shack, Bill cried, "Wait wait, no! Come back!" He pounded both fists on the bathroom window and let out a prolonged, anguished, "NOOO!"

They didn't hear him.

Waddles did, though. He pulled his face out of the dirt and looked up at Bill, muddy snout twitching.

"Waddles," Bill gasped, relieved. "Good pig. Smart pig. You know, I'm—I'm really very impressed by your scientific work. Especially that jet pack, wow. Seriously. Just between you and me, I don't think Fordsy's quite the biggest genius in the house, you know what I mean?"

Waddles blinked.

"Listen. I need a little favor. Go get help." He pointed toward town. "Go get Mabel and tell her I'm— Or, or just free me yourself! Can you do that? Come on up here?" Could pigs open doors? Bill couldn't think of any reason why not. It wasn't like Waddles was cursed.

Waddles tilted his head slightly, contemplatively. He didn't look persuaded.

"It'll just take you a second," Bill pled. "And then I'll owe you one! Big time! Listen, if you help me, you'll go down in history! You think that stupid hog with the fancy spiderwebs was special? He's nothing! I'll rearrange the constellations to form your face! It'll say 'Greatest Pig In The Universe!' How's that?!"

Waddles stared at Bill.

"Have we got a deal?"

Waddles snorted, his nose twitching upward.

"More?! What more could you want! An infinite feeding trough! A hundred sows! A Nobel prize! The most luxurious mud puddle in the world, what?! Just—tell me what you want!"

Waddles lay down and shut his eyes.

"You're a lazy bum, Waddles!" Bill smacked his hand on the window. "You hear me?! You could've had a brilliant academic future in any field from bioengineering to quantum technology, and you squandered it all to mooch off a twelve-year-old! All potential but no work ethic! You're pathetic! You're nothing!"

Completely unashamed and satisfied with his life choices, Waddles fell asleep.

Bill groaned in frustration. "I'll never get out of here!" He kicked over a box, kicked a shampoo bottle, kicked one of the many ancient cursed sigils he'd inscribed on the walls in his own blood, and kicked a towel. "They've abandoned me in this shack. They're never coming back. They're gonna burn it down with me inside. Those brats just came by to taunt me! Mabel's probably been in on it all along! They all have. After all I've done for them! Those ungrateful—"

Bill stomped across the bathroom and hammered on the door. "Was this your idea, Stanford Pines?! I know it was you! You've had it out for me ever since we finished the portal and you decided you didn't need me anymore! It was your big plan to trap me in here! You're just waiting to see if the hunger or the boredom gets to me faster, aren't you?! Gonna record that in your journal, huh? A cute little experiment to see whether my body or my mind gives out first?" He gave the door another violent pound. "You're an evil, sadistic freak, Stanford! And not even the fun kind! I know you're laughing at me right now! I know that's what you're doing!"

####

Ford kept his gaze fixed firmly on the Dontium generator as he blindly groped across the card table for the deck. "Where's—?"

"Here, I've gotcha." Fiddleford pushed a playing card into his hand.

"Thanks." Ford groped around the table until he found the three cards that had already been placed down, flipped the new one over, and carefully set it next to the others. "What's this one?"

"Four of clubs."

"Remind me why I'm responsible for dealing the community cards when I can't look at them and you can?"

"Because it's real distractin'," Fiddleford said, "Which is just what you need to keep you from thinkin' about the... oh."

Oh. The Dontium.

Sitting at the generator's controls, Soos said, "Aw, dudes. Needle's back down at zero."

Ford shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly let it out.

Sitting on a folding chair faced away from the Dontium generator, Stan groaned. "Seriously?! Again?"

Fiddleford said, "Sorry, sorry."

"Start from the top," Ford said tiredly. "Stan, you just focus on your part and I'll focus on mine. Or... not focus on mine, as the case may be."

Stan groaned again, but said, "Fine!" and crossed his arms irritably.

"Right," Ford said. "Where were we? Remind me what the current community cards are?"

"King of hearts, seven of hearts, two of diamonds, and four of clubs."

"Hmm." It wasn't an inspiring bunch of community cards. No chance for a straight, no chance for a flush, slim odds for four of a kind. He tried to mentally calculate the probability of a win. "And..." Ford waved the two cards he was holding. "What's my hand?"

"I'd tell ya, but last I checked, peekin' at yer opponent's poker cards is still considered cheating."

"Right," Ford sighed. That was going to make calculations harder.

"I could look," Stan said. "I'm allowed to look anywhere except the one place I'm not, right? If I tell you your cards—"

"You can't," Fiddleford said irritably, "because then you'll think about poker when you're s'posed to be thinkin' about—er..."

Soos laughed awkwardly. "Aw, dudes. You'll never guess what."

"Darn it!" Stan got to his feet and pointed at Ford. "You started thinking about the thing again!"

"You stopped thinking about the thing again!"

"How am I supposed to think about the thing when there's a game of Texas hold 'em five feet away?!"

"I knew we should have switched to a game Stan doesn't like." Ford looked at Fiddleford—it didn't matter, they weren't making any progress. "What if we try...?"

Firmly, Fiddleford said, "Stanford, I'll do many things for science. But you ain't getting me to play that diabolical hocus-pocusy wizard game."

Ford groaned. "We're going to be here all night."

Soos slowly raised a hand. "I have an idea," he said. "What if you both put on headphones. And Stan's plays a recording that just says 'think about the NowUSeeItNowUDontium generator' over and over. And Ford's plays—uh—I don't know, an audiobook with cool science facts or something?"

They considered that. Ford slowly nodded. Stan shrugged. "Eh, can't hurt."

####

Were shirts edible?

Nothing in this accursed bathroom qualified as human food. But if Bill could eke out just a few calories, maybe he could survive until the humans came by to pry the gold fillings from his starved corpse and turn the tables on them. Shirts were plants. They might accidentally contain a mineral or two. Right? Maybe? Bill knew a great many things about Earth, but he had never once needed to learn whether cotton yielded any nutritional benefit to human beings.

It was probably better for him than trying to chew up the wooden counter. He peeled off his shirt, steeled himself for the least appetizing meal of his life, and began distastefully chewing on the hem.

Several minutes in, it suddenly occurred to him to check the shirt's tag for nutrition info. He peered in the collar.

65% polyester, 35% cotton.

Well. He wasn't wasting his time on a shirt that was two-thirds plastic. He'd burn more energy chewing than he'd gain.

He pulled his shirt back on and lay on the bathroom floor. He could already feel his famished body metabolizing his own muscles for fuel.

If he returned to his true form when he died, the first thing he was doing was heating every ounce of polyester on the planet to five hundred degrees and melting it onto the skin of the humans stupid enough to wear it.

####

"Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid..." Mabel was muttering to herself in sync with pedaling the bike. She'd spent most of the ride along the road back to the shack alternating between this chant and berating herself in more detail: "I'm so stupid, augh! Why is it always me? Why am I always the one who lets Bill get out? Because I'm an idiot!"

"Whoa, hey. Don't say that," Dipper said. Granted, he did think leaving Bill home with no guards was kinda stupid, but Mabel was already punishing herself far in excess of what Dipper thought she deserved. And he'd left Bill home with one guard, so was he much better? "It's not all your fault—"

"Yes it is! I'm the one who decided to trust him at home alone! I'm the only one who's been trusting him at all! I knew he'd try something like this eventually!" Mabel tilted her head back and let out a long noise of frustration at the sky.

Dipper opened his mouth to try to offer more reassurance; but then he paused. "Wait. If you knew he'd do this, then why did you trust him?"

"Because...!" Mabel fell silent for a moment. "Because, I know he's a bad person... but I really, really do think he can get better." She had that little waver in her voice that she got whenever she was trying not to cry. "I'm figuring out how he thinks, I'm teaching him manners, I'm getting him to lie less... But, he can't prove he's getting better if he isn't given room to do the wrong thing, so he can choose the right thing instead. If he can't choose, then he's not good, he's just controlled. So I've... gotta give him chances."

Dipper stared at her, momentarily lost for words. "And—you're willing to risk the safety of the whole town—?"

"I mean I didn't think he'd escape entirely!" Her front tire wobbled; she slammed on the breaks. Dipper skidded to a stop just a few feet ahead.

Voice thicker, Mabel said, "I just—with Grunkle Ford so close to figuring out how to kill him, I really... really wanted him to prove he can be better."

All this time, watching her playing and goofing around with Bill, Dipper had assumed she was just ignoring how dangerous he was. But if anything, she was thinking about it more than anybody else. All the rest of the family had to worry about was Bill finding some way to destroy the world; while Mabel was worrying about Bill destroying the world, and Bill not making enough progress on some nebulous road to being "better," and whether he could prove himself to everyone else before it was too late.

Dipper didn't think Bill could do anything to prove himself. He thought Bill deserved to die. But that just made Mabel's position even worse.

"Oh, Mabel," Dipper murmured. "I'm sorry. I... didn't realize how much pressure you're under." All this time, Dipper had been seeing this as a battle where Bill won if he escaped to restart Weirdmageddon and the Pines won if they killed Bill. But for Mabel, she'd lose either way.

No wonder she'd learned so much about him, so fast. No wonder she was spending so much time around him. She didn't have any time to waste. And to think Dipper had been jealous of her bizarre new expertise. He didn't want to be doing what she was doing.

"S'fine. It's stupid." Mabel rubbed her nose on her arm, eyes downcast. "I'm the dumb-dumb who tried to be friends with an evil space criminal."

"You're not a dumb-dumb," Dipper said. "You're like, one dumb maximum."

Mabel snorted and laughed weakly. "Seriously, Dipper."

"You just want to help. Maybe too much."

She shrugged. "I guess." She rubbed her face again, then got back on her bike. "C'mon, it's almost dark. We should go."

"Yeah." Every second they wasted was one more second Bill could spend putting some devastating plot together.

They were headed back to the shack, but only long enough to regroup. They had already split the cereal bars and jerky that Dipper kept in his backpack for excursions, but they needed to get some proper food before they continued the hunt. And—as much as they dreaded it—they'd conceded they couldn't fix this themselves, and they had to call the adults to tell them they'd let Bill escape.

As they biked, Dipper said, "Hey. What did you mean, you're 'getting him to lie less'? Bill tells like four lies a minute."

"Oh. Right," Mabel said. "I guess I don't exactly see it as lying anymore because I understand what he really means."

"What, is he talking in some kind of code?"

"Sorta? I'm not sure if this is only a Bill thing, or if it's how people talked back on his planet? But he just doesn't have conversations like a human. When he says something, he doesn't really care about if it's true. He's telling you what he thinks should be true. So it's not like he's actually trying to lie, he's just... trying to use words to make a better reality." Mabel shrugged. "You've just gotta negotiate with him on the details of the new reality so you both like it."

Dipper blinked in bewilderment. "Mabel, that's objectively insane."

"It works, though!" Her proud smile wilted. "I thought it did, anyway."

Once they found Bill and had finally figured out how to kill him, Dipper would kill him twice for breaking Mabel's heart.

####

"Where haven't we looked for him yet?" Mabel asked, packing fresh provisions in Dipper's backpack. Waddles, who had come in with them and could tell something was wrong, had sat down reassuringly in the exact center of the kitchen.

"I didn't explore much of the forest." There was a lot of forest. "He's probably out there with a pair of scissors cutting open the dimensional rifts we glued shut last summer."

"Or taking over the radio station to broadcast a mind-control signal."

"Or breaking into the buried UFO to summon an alien invasion."

"Do you think we need to check the UFO?" Mabel asked. "I've never gotten to see it."

"Probably. If I was an evil triangle trying to restart an apocalypse, that's where I'd go." Either that, or hitch the first ride out of town—but that wasn't an option for Bill. Their one blessing was that they knew Bill still had to be nearby. He couldn't be farther than the weirdness barrier. "We'll need the magnet gun." Dipper headed for the stairs.

"And my grappling hook!" Mabel called. "Can you grab it for me?"

"You got it!"

As Dipper jogged past the bathroom, something rattled the door so thunderously that Dipper jumped sideways like a startled deer. The door howled, "Let me out, you monster! I'll kill you! I'll atomize you! I'll turn your intestines into a Klein bottle! I'll anti your matter—!"

Dipper stared. He opened the door. The bathroom belched forth a cloud of artificial lavender fragrance.

Behind it stood Bill Cipher, both hands on the doorframe, arms shaking, chest heaving, face contorted in rage. The moment the door was open, the rage melted away into a look of profound relief and his knees buckled under him. 

Dipper said, "What."

"You saved me!" He placed one hand reverently on the floor boards outside the bathroom. "You're my hero. I knew you wouldn't abandon—" He blinked, squinting up at Dipper's face. "Oh. It's just you. Eh."

Dipper said, "What."

"I was trapped!" His hair was disheveled; his hands were covered in scrapes and cuts; and his shirt's hem was shredded and tattered. There was a wild look in his dark-ringed eyes. He looked like a man who'd been crawling through the desert for a week, who'd then crawled into an active minefield. "I couldn't get out! I tried everything!"

Dipper gazed past Bill. The bathroom walls were coated in mysterious sigils drawn in toothpaste, makeup, and blood. One mirror was shattered, and the other had a smeared drawing of Bill's zodiac. There was a pile of wet cotton balls and used bandaids on the floor.He'd started writing his will on the shower curtain. He'd written an invocation to something called ⅃TO⅃OXA on the ceiling.

"I thought I was gonna die in here." Bill crawled across the hall, leaned back against the opposite wall, and closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. "I had to eat shampoo to survive." He hiccuped up several soap bubbles.

Dipper stared at Bill, stared into the bathroom again, and stared at Bill. "How long have you been in here?"

Dragging his hands down his face, Bill declared, "All afternoon! And evening!"

"You resorted to drinking shampoo in one afternoon?"

"I was hungry! Do you know how much fuel human bodies need?! It's insane!"

And that was the moment Dipper realized that all along, Mabel had been half right: Bill probably wasn't becoming "better"; but even so, they no longer had anything to fear from Bill Cipher. He wasn't haunting their dreams, he wasn't opening rifts. This, this was all he could bring to the table. He was so harmless it was pathetic.

Dipper would never be afraid of him again.

"Welp," Dipper said. "Enjoy your freedom, man. Bye." He turned to leave.

A hand closed on the back of his neck. Bill snarled in his ear, "Ohhh, no. You're not going anywhere. We're going down to the kitchen, and you're opening the fridge for me."

Wow, right, Bill couldn't even open the fridge by himself. Wow. Wow. That was so sad.

They had to slow down at the stairs; Bill was stumbling down them with the weariness of a soldier who'd survived a week in the trenches. As they went, Bill said, "Hey. What's your first name?"

"Wha—?" Somewhat offended, he said, "It's Dipper."

"No. I know that, obviously. Why wouldn't I know that?" (He sounded defensive.) "I meant your—your baby name. Birth certificate."

"Why do you need to know?" Was this like a fae thing? Was telling Bill his real name dangerous?

"It's been driving me insane all day." With the eyes of a desperate man grasping at the last fraying threads of his sanity, Bill said, "Is it Mabon? I could swear it's Mabon. Tell me it's Mabon."

"What? No, that's stupid. Mabon isn't even a real name."

"Yes it is, it's Welsh."

"It's Mason."

"HA!" Bill screamed triumphantly in Dipper's face, "MASON!" He was way too loud and looked way too ecstatic.

Dipper opened his mouth, then decided he didn't want to know and shut it.

Mabel was in the living room on her phone. "Hey, Soos? Could you put Grunkle Ford on a second?" She paused, then took a shaky breath and said, "Grunkle Ford? Hey. I've... got some bad news... We, uh..."

"Psst," Dipper hissed from the doorway, "Mabel!" He pointed at Bill. Bill pointed at himself.

Mabel's eyes widened. "We... ate all the leftovers! Haha, yeah, sorry, thought you should know! Anyway, love you, bye!" She lowered the phone. Dipper faintly heard Ford say, "What leftovers?" before Mabel ended the call. "Bill! You came back!"

"He never left the shack," Dipper said.

"You didn't?!" Mabel bounded across the room and flung her arms around him. It nearly knocked him over. "I knew you wouldn't let me down."

"Yeah, of course not. You can count on me, kid." Bill glanced sideways at Dipper, brows raised questioningly. What?

Flatly, Dipper said, "He got locked in the bathroom."

"What?!" Mabel stepped back, looked Bill up and down, and said, "You look awful! What happened?"

"I was trapped," Bill said wretchedly. "I thought I was a goner." Dipper rolled his eyes.

"Oh my gosh, you poor thing!" Mabel hugged him again. "Tell me all about it."

"In the kitchen."

"Of course! You must be starving."

"I am," Bill said, hand on his heart, the most pitiful thing you ever did see. "That was the worst afternoon of my existence. You know—being stuck in a human body makes waiting for anything absolute torture. An energy being can wait indefinitely, but a flesh being can feel the passage of time via its own cycle of slowly decaying flesh. The flesh knows it's got less than a century til its expiration date. Compared to the length of my entire life, one afternoon to a human is proportionate to, like..." There was a pause as Bill did some mental math, "over nine million years of my life? So I was basically in there for nine million years!"

"That's awful! I'm so sorry, if I'd had any idea..."

Bill was enjoying this performance, Dipper was sure of it. If he were any hammier he'd be a pork chop.

Still—and Dipper never thought he'd be grateful for this—at least Bill was here.

He followed Mabel and Bill into the kitchen to get some proper dinner.

####

Dipper pulled a tray of dinosaur chicken nuggets out of the oven. "Okay, dinner's ready. You guys want any condiments? Ketchup? Barbecue sauce?" He looked at Bill. "Shampoo?" Mabel snorted.

The absolute picture of dignity, Bill said, "Shampoo's really more of a dressing than a condiment." Once he'd raided the cabinet for snacks, Bill had gotten bored with the woe-is-me act and was now acting like he was above any petty jabs about his bathroom adventure. "I'll take maple syrup."

Mabel looked at Bill like he'd just invented a brand new number. "I'll take maple syrup, too."

Dipper split the nuggets on three plates—they weren't quite divisible by three, so he gave Bill the plate with one fewer.

"By the way," Bill said conversationally. "How was dumpster diving?"

"Shut up." Dipper took one more nugget from Bill's plate.

Once they were all seated around the table, Bill said, "So! Let's talk alibis."

Dipper frowned. Mabel said, "Alibis for what?"

"I might have been safe at home all day, but you two didn't know that, because you both decided to leave the big scary triangle here alone. I mean, anything could have happened. What if I'd burned the house down?" Bill feigned a grimace. "I don't think you want the grunkles to know you left, do you?"

Mabel winced. Dipper said, "So, what—are you blackmailing us?"

"Nooo. I'm saying we need to get our stories straight in case they ask. After all, I'd hate for you kids to get in trouble."

"I think you're just embarrassed they might find out what you were doing all day."

Loftily, Bill said, "I don't see why I should be embarrassed by your negligence."

After half an hour of rigorous debate, they agreed that, if anybody asked, they'd never left the house and had spent all afternoon battling a ghost werewolf. It was the one thing they could think of that made them all feel sufficiently cool, but was mundane enough it wouldn't call for any follow-up questions.

They collectively decided they didn't know anything about the state of the bathroom.

####

(I hope y'all found that half as hilarious to read as I found it to write. If you enjoyed I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts! Next week: the complete emotional opposite of this week.)

[shima-draws]

NOT THE KIERAN VILLAIN ARC I’M SO UPSETTI SPAGHETTI

[happyandticklish]

Fic Recommendations Because I Feel Like It~

Sometimes y'all write fics and it makes me incapable of existing due to the chaotically intense lee mood it has just bitch slapped me with that makes me have to put my fucking phone down and genuinely pace the room because certain lines keep running through my head and I can't help but think about them being used on me, and there is simply no good way of expressing that in a compelling manner.

So I've made a list of fics that have made me have to face away from my roommate while reading them so she doesn't see me blushing like a goddamn looney tune, in order to express what my tags couldn't, as well as give a generous thank you for being in this community and writing these masterpieces and an even more generous fuck you for doing that to me <3

Haunted Safehouse by @rosileeduckie

Itinerary by @rosileeduckie

Heartography by @rosileeduckie

Liar by @poesparakeet

Tickletober Day Seven Drabble by @wordstrings

You Got My Devotion by @nhasablogg

Self-Tickle Session by @nhasablogg

This Steddie Drabble by @nhasablogg

Anticipation by @nhasablogg

This Random DRRR Ficlet by @ caffeinekitty who I can’t tag for some reason, so maybe they’ve deactivated, but this fic lived in my head rent free for years

Slain by @wigglywormy

Remind Me Of The Babe by @stray-tickles

Closet Cases by @spritewrites

Tenderness and Ties by @tickles-tea

The Truth Will Set You Free by @sapphicquill

I’m So Down by @tickle-bugs

Visions of Visions by @ssnicker-doodless 

A Gentleman’s Torture by @august-anon 

Bamboozled by @august-anon

Mind Melt by @august-anon

Pray For Mercy by @august-anon

This Teal Oranges Drabble by @august-anon

Intention by @achilleean

Piece(s) of Cake by @achilleean

One To Talk by @achilleean

This Teal Oranges Drabble by @achilleean

Waking Up With A Smile by @achilleean

Fun by @achilleean

New Discoveries by @achilleean

Chase by @achilleean

Apples & Oranges 1 & 2 & 3 by @achilleean

Lightness for a Stormy Morning by @achilleean

Ticket, Ticket, Ticket! by @achilleean

Invisible Ink by @achilleean

Freaky Friday’d by @achilleean

The Pynch drabble by @ticklygiggles

Not Quite Marco Polo by @silviesilviesilvie

Blackbeard’s Best by @silviesilviesilvie

Unsaid by @anasticklefics

So if you’re in a mood and you want to make things infinitely worse for yourself, read these and suffer~

[dipplinduo]

Kieran's villain arc is 100000000% tied to his intergenerational trauma and this is a hill I'll die on

[teal-fiend]

page 01 | page 02 | page 03

[secretsofthewilde]

Whenever life is hitting my mental health a bit too hard:

[queen-scribbles]

Massive sigh of relief as my last teal pen held on just long enough to finish the Ardrali fic😅

[esp3onsol]

I just realized Playing Pretend is close to 200 kudos on AO3!!!! Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read my work, I truly appreciate it more than you’ll ever know. Much love <3

[sommerregenjuniluft]

TRICK OR TREAT LUNE !! 🎃👻

CASS<3 it's been months maybe even a whole year since i last properly wrote this but have some iwaoi nonetheless (it's a swimmer au, kind of. oh, and it also plays in italiy!)

His arms flare out to regain his balance when he plants his feet into the ground mere centimeters away from Hajime’s before he leans back again, clasping his hands behind his back.

„Buongiorno!“, he says with a cheery voice, tipping his head to the side making finer, stray pieces of hair fall out of place and giving Hajime a practiced smile. 

There’s the slightest hint of an accent swinging with the three syllables that Hajime can’t quite categorize.

The boy is a little taller than him, 5 centimeters at best, but even so Hajime has to tilt his head back with how close they’re standing.

His eyes are just as brown as his hair, probably, given that hair always looks darker when wet. Up close he doesn’t look as pale but he’s still lighter than Hajime and there’s a faint splutter of freckles layering the sunburn on his nose.

A voice in the back of his head forms the word pretty, that’s when Hajime realizes he has yet a word to say but definitely a point to make, so he shoves the unwanted commentary of his unconsciousness back for later and tries to focus.

“You cannot do that here,” he says in lieu of a greeting.

“Mmh, yes I can,” the strange boy retorts, tilting his head back straight, smile forgotten, replaced by a pouty frown.

“No, you can’t. It’s prohibited and it’s dangerous.”

“I didn’t see a sign,” he replies, making a show of looking around as if that’d make one magically pop up.

“It doesn’t need a sign, it’s common sense! Do you see signs around here telling you not to steal?”

“It’s not the law here, I checked. Capitano Mizoguchi tried to make us stop, but failed, obviously,” he circles a single finger around in the air lazily, “so he told us to beat it to where it’s not his responsibility anymore. He didn’t want to call the cops on us so he sent us off. This ain‘t the beach, so we can do whatever we want out here.”

He barely gives Hajime enough time to process all the information of his excuse before continuing, this time with a smile again. “And since you’re apparently new here, ’cause I haven’t seen you around before—and believe me, I would have noticed a face like yours—I suggest you check in with your superiore first before trying to interdict something again, alright, bagnino-kun?” he leans even further into Hajime’s space at the last words and, to Hajime’s absolute horror, tabs his pointer finger to the tip of Hajime’s nose.

Completely baffled, the only thing he seems to grasp in the clutter of thoughts whizzing through his head is that Hajime has read enough Manga in his early teens to realize the intent behind the nickname.

He sputters at the audacity of the opposing boy which only results in this one’s grin turning into a shit-eating one, completely abandoning his innocent façade.Before Hajime remembers how to say don’t call me that in a way that doesn’t make him sound like a petulant 5-year-old having a temper tantrum he’s cut off by the once again returning roar of cheering teens at the head of the cliff.

The next big enough wave brings two more boys up with it drawing his attention back down, one Hajime doesn’t recognize catches himself with his hands on the ledge and twists his body at the waist to land on his butt, the other swings one leg up to plant his foot near the ledge and almost topples forward with a laugh when the wave pulls him to the ground.

A laugh Hajime recognizes.

The boy jogs the excess momentum off before straightening his torso and coming to a halt a few paces beside them.

He whoops and starts snickering again before finally turning his gaze to Hajime and his laughter dies, and so does the annoyance that had been simmering under Hajime’s skin just a moment ago.

“Really, Hanamaki?” he deadpans.

trick or treat fic writer ask game

[roxannarambles]

Still thinking about this and seething. This slap in the face. They didn't have to word it like this, but they did. "The gang's all here." Yeah. The gang we spent the entire game getting to know and love.

Okay. Sure.

[fluffisgreater]

Will post my fic in here soon for archiving... and eventually rambling in the tags

[anxiousdragoncollector]

I'm mad at myself

Because I said I wouldn't draw it cuz I don't like my drawing style, but I drew it anyway, so here

It's fanart from an au I made up last night, and here's the notes for the au that are copied directly from my notes

-He seems pretty normal when his quirk is off, but his skin is pale, and kinda green under certain lighting, he smells like the ocean, and his freckles are like the seawing glow spots

-His eyes blink sideways

-When he gets emotional, his quirk emerges, be that fins or spines or needle-y teeth

-Fully transformed, he's a mer straight out of the bottom of the ocean (very creepy, lots of spines, large, fast, bioluminescent)

-He takes after lots of deep sea fish, w weird spines and teeth that don't always fit together

-His fingers are long

Story wise, 

His mom died when he was little and he stress manifested the quirk after being tossed in the ocean, or something like that

He lives in the ocean, keeping dry stuff on Dagobah beach

Eventually joins UA, but doesn't tell them he's an orphan chilling a mile off coast

[ranger-kellyn]

outlining (ง'̀v‘́)ง

[starberryjaems]

me : haven’t been dating or haven’t liked a person long enough to develop a crush for 3 years

: can’t write people developing feelings for each other and all the things before people date

also me : can make a 2k of word vomit fluff for an established relationship that is totally hypothetical

-

i need help and i’m so sorry for my codywan exchange giftee

[starflared-arrow]

.