#the temples one though feels weirder

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! One more weird question for you, then it's back to craft updates. Well, okay, one more post with a few questions - if you sleep wrong and wake up sore/in pain, is that soreness A. your whole body B. bad muscle tension/knots and C. does it cause muscle spasms D. unrelated to previous injuries - also, does that soreness last more than a day? - does eating an truly absurd amount of salt significantly reduce muscle tension for you? Basically I am trying to figure out if sleeping wrong and it causing like multiple days of bad muscle pain and issues is common, or if it's something wrong with me or my bed*, and if the ridiculous amount of salt fixed the problem or if it was just a coincidence of timing, because if it's a salt thing it tells me which doctor I should talk to about it (the endocrinologist) Wait wait one more question: do your muscles ever get tense to the point where they do not want to function correctly, like "legs buckle out from underneath you" tense? Okay I was wrong, one more. Do you get muscle spasms in your temples, and if so, do they make you dizzy? *I mean I know there's something physically wrong with me. Several somethings. I am just trying to figure out if this in particular is related or just happens to everyone

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [17]

Tucker meets Danny (no not that one, Danny Temple)  through a Reddit about being a reincarnated important person.

They bond over a period of several weeks over their struggles with sudden positions of power and the responsibilities that come with that and surprisingly also over having a vigilante friend.

Danny Temple laments the fact that he hasn't seen his vigilante friend in a long while and his cult is keeping him busy so he can't just go out there and meet up

Tucker figures he could do his new buddy a favour. Kidnap some vigilante as a show of... friendship? General approval? To Signal that are allies or something. Drop him in egypt or wherever Danny's cult is at so they can catch up without anyone getting suspicious or whatever.

Shouldn't be too hard...

Though, wait, maybe he should keep kidnapping more as a last resort kinda thing. He should first just try to get the vigilante to act on their own by simply leaving an anonymous tip about their hidden, secret, possibly nefarious meeting. That seems less risky than full on kidnapping.

Tucker plans on asking his Danny, the Phantom one, on how he might get lured into a situation like that. Tucker doesn't really want to involve him in the actual action though... he'd feel bad if Danny took a hit on his reputation for this.

On that note. Tucker should ask his other Danny who exactly his vigilante friend is.

"Oh! It's Red Robin" he looks so proud about it.

Tucker realises he's going to have to step up his game a bit more cause he's sure tricking one of the Gotham birds is going to be a bit harder than your average teen hero (the kidnapping plan is starting to look even less appealing now...). But let it never be said he backs down from a challenge!

---

During a video chat while team Phantom is at Nasty Burger;

"Hey Danny come meet Danny"

Danny looks up from his food to see what Tucker is doing, "You're having way too much fun with our names being the same"

A voice pipes up from Tucker's PDA with laughter,  "it's very confusing sometimes"

"Anyway, hi Danny, I'm Danny"

Danny T can be seen grinning on the screen, "Hello Danny I'm- oh damn, that's even weirder"

Now Tucker and Danny are both confused.

"You look just like my buddy Tim"

Danny seems to find the whole thing funny so Tucker leaves the two of them to it and focuses on his own extra mega beef burger until he overhears Danny T go "oh he's in Gotham now sadly so-"

"Hm? Who?" Tucker asks and Danny distractedly goes "Tim" before going back to his conversation with other Danny and Tucker's brain is slowly putting a few pieces together before tossing it aside.

Massive coincidence that this Tim guy and Red Robin both are in Gotham, and besides, there are a gazillion Tim's on the planet. So without a last name there is no way he-

"-and last time I heard he's majority shareholder in WE and works closely with the CEO Lucius Fox. So we're both in like, leadership positions"

Oh his friend is Tim Drake.

"You're friends with Tim Drake!" Tucker butts in

A startled "woah" can be heard from both Danny's.

Meanwhile Sam finished pulling up Tim's latest news article that has a photo attached. "He's right, you two do look alike"

Danny T makes a little surprised noise "oh he stopped wearing glasses"

But really, it's probably just a huge coincidence that both are in Gotham, his friend, haven't been in touch in a while, Tim clearly has the money to do vigilante stuff if he felt like it.

... Tucker figures he could keep an ear out for any drama in the Wayne family before he makes his move. It might actually keep any other bats and birds from getting involved, and isn't that insane to think about?

[only-lonely-stars]

Reminiscence

Oneshot – (FFN) (AO3)

Summary:

Skylor never really talked much about her childhood. It just wasn't important. Who wants to hear about that? However, a day off with Kai was probably the right time to tell him about the history she's been carrying around… right?

Phone in hand, Skylor walked out of her noodle shop through the back door, latching it behind her. She finally had a day off, and not too soon at all; she hadn't seen Kai in ages. She pulled up her messaging app with a smile.

FROM: Copycat (10:03 AM) TO: Hair Gel Hey, are you free? I managed to have a day off

FROM: Hair Gel (10:05 AM) TO: Copycat yeah, greenie gave us the day off yesterday he worked us until 7 wanna go do something ?

FROM: Copycat (10:06 AM) TO: Hair Gel You want to meat up at the park? *meet The weather's great today

FROM: Hair Gel (10:06 AM) TO: Copycat definitely! I'll see you in a few minutes?

FROM: Copycat (10:07 AM) TO: Hair Gel Copy that.

Skylor put away her phone with a smile. It would be a nice change to see him again; despite being engaged, they had spent little time together recently (of course, it was the noodle shop's fault, having several employees on holiday, but no matter). She rolled her shoulders back and set off on a quick jog, only taking a few minutes to reach the park. As she got to the entrance gate, she spotted a figure in a red hoodie waving to her from across the park. She smiled, waved back, and jogged up to meet him, giving him a big hug in greeting. "Hi, Kai."

"Hey, Sky!" Kai replied, warmly enveloping her in his arms. He kissed her temple, then let her go and smiled. "Long time no see."

"No kidding," Skylor laughed. "Sorry I've been so busy."

"Lots of business?"

"Oh yeah. We've had a lot of people on holiday recently. Plus, those new apartment buildings had a lot of Serpentine moving in." Skylor shrugged. "We had a lot of busy days."

"Makes sense." Kai took her hand. "Are you okay, being around so many Serpentine? I know you haven't exactly had a good experience with them." He gestured to a nearby bench, and they sat. "They've been starting to really come back to Ninjago this past few months."

Skylor sighed. "It's been weird, but I haven't had to deal with too many of them. How's training been for you?"

"Brutal. Lloyd keeps making up weirder and weirder exercises. Who comes up with one-handed burpees while wearing weights?" Kai laughed briefly. "It's working pretty well, though."

"Oh yeah? Your spinjitzu must be getting better." Skylor nudged his shoulder. "It would be nice to be able to do that; just in case any old cultists show up, you know."

"That would be great! It's an amazing skill. But… aren't all those guys in Kryptarium Prison or the Cursed Realm?" Kai's face fell.

Skylor's eyes fell. "There are still some stragglers. They're not really that nice to see– some of them are still really attached to the island." She sighed deeply. "Once, a gang of them tried to take me back. That wasn't fun."

"What? When was that?" Kai exclaimed.

Skylor shrugged. "I think it was last Friday? I'd just closed up the shop for the night."

"And you didn't tell any of us, because…"

"It wasn't an issue! I handled it. There wasn't a reason to bother you about it." She gave him a weak smile.

"Sky, almost being kidnapped and dragged back to the island isn't a bother," Kai responded, giving her an uncharacteristically soft look. A shiver ran up Skylor's spine. Since when was he good with this sort of thing?

"Exactly! It's just– whatever, you know? It wasn't even the first time." Skylor shook her head, combined with another shrug. "I just thought spinjitzu might help me next time." Was it just her, or did the wind feel colder?

"Skylor…" Kai breathed, taking her hand in his. Skylor felt the warmth of his hands, radiating up her body. "You can tell us about this kind of thing. You can trust us– you can trust me."

"I do trust you! I just thought it wasn't important. It's not like someone tried to burglarize the shop or anything."

"Of course it's important! You're important!"

"So? It doesn't matter. I can take care of myself, Kai."

"I know you can," Kai conceded, rubbing her hand comfortingly, "but you don't have to any more. Your safety matters, Skylor."

Skylor looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "I know, and I appreciate that, really. It's just… hard to believe that sometimes, you know? I still feel like I need to escape sometimes, just to be free. I didn't have that for a long time."

Kai nodded. "I get that." He paused, looking unsure. "Do you want to talk about it? Not that you have to."

Skylor chuckled and met his eyes again, managing to smile. "Are you really in the mood to hear about my issues?"

Kai laughed. "I live with Lloyd Garmadon. Not to mention the fact that all the rest of us have our own. It's not so unusual."

"Heh, fair enough. There's a lot to tell, though." She shifted on the bench, inching closer to him.

"That's fine. Do you feel safe? We could go back to your place, if that helps," Kai offered.

Skylor smiled, squeezing his hand. "Even if I felt like I was in danger, it wouldn't be a problem. After all, I have Ninjago's strongest ninja here to protect me." She winked at him, enjoying how he perked up at her comment. "Besides, it's about time I told you." She shifted in her seat.

-----

"My childhood was pretty weird, honestly. Being a kid on the island wasn't exactly terrible, but it wasn't fun either. Lots of adults, not many kids, and near-total isolation from the outside world tend not to be good elements when it comes to mental health." She shook her head. "One of the worst things was how much everyone believed in my father. It was like they thought he was their savior, you know? They hated how much attention I got in public– not that I got much in private, but they didn't know that."

Kai frowned. "They shouldn't have treated you like that. Especially your dad."

Skylor's eyes fell, a tiny smile on her face. "I know, but it's okay. At least he told me some stories about when I was pretty young. He liked to talk about my mother. He always said she believed in me."

-----

Skylor, only a baby, cried very loudly. It wasn't just because she had needs; she announced her presence. As she grasped at the air with her tiny hands, her father smiled uneasily down at her.

"I'm not so sure about this, dear. It's a bit… loud, isn't it?" Chen muttered, trying to soothe her.

"Chen, Skylor's not an it. She's our daughter. You can't just turn off her crying," Skylor's mother said with a smile. She toyed with Skylor's hair, tiredly drinking in the image of her husband and newborn daughter.

"Yes, right, darling. She's very pretty," Chen backtracked, gently rocking Skylor.

"She's not just pretty," Skylor's mother said with a smile. "I have a feeling she will be someone extraordinary."

"I'm afraid I'm going to drop her. What will happen if I drop her? Will that break her?"

"Just be gentle," his wife reprimanded, amused.

Skylor cooed, grasping at Chen's beard. "Ahh, I think she got her lack of hair from me! She wants my beard," Chen laughed. "Dearest, please let go!"

Skylor laughed and let go, happily laying her arms back down and yawning, while conveniently covering her mother's quietly labored breathing. "Be careful with your father, Skylor…" her mother commented.

Chen's face fell. "Are you all right dear? Do you need me to call the doctor?" He knelt by his wife's bedside.

"No, I'm fine. Really," his wife placated, waving her hand. "I'm just tired."

"If you say so," Chen relented, before smiling at Skylor again. "Our daughter will want for nothing. She's a daddy's girl, don't you think?"

"Yes, she is," her mother replied, smiling as her daughter fell asleep in Chen's arms. "I think she's going to be someone very special."

"Yes, she'll be special," Chen repeated. "She will be powerful..."

-----

"Of course, it's not like that lasted. My mother wasn't healthy, and my father knew it. He always said he wished he'd known she was dying earlier..." Skylor laughed quietly.

"That's… dark," Kai commented.

"Yeah, but it's just how it was." She shrugged. "It's not a long story; life on the island got repetitive pretty fast."

-----

Now four years old, Skylor lived a life of happiness, shielded from the bitter truths she would later know. She ran through the hallways of Chen's castle, laughing and playing with a makeshift sword made from two sticks and some rope as she fought off invisible ninja enemies. Panting from her exercise, she ran into her mother's room. "Mommy! Did you see me! I defeated the ninja!"

"Yes you did, darling," her mother said with a smile, before devolving into a coughing fit.

Skylor's grin fell off her face, fear taking root in her eyes. "Are you okay, Mommy?"

"I'm fine, dear," her mother got out between coughs. "Can you go get your father to come here, please?"

Skylor nodded, all thoughts of games gone. "Yes, Mommy…" She ran out of the room, almost ramming into Clouse on the way.

"Be careful where you're going," Clouse sneered.

"I'm sorry Mr. Clouse," Skylor said hastily. "Do you know where my daddy is?"

Clouse sniffed. "Master Chen is currently in a business meeting with an important man from the mainland. He does not have time to be disturbed by children."

Skylor pouted. "Mommy said she needs to see him. She was coughing again."

Clouse rolled his eyes. "He is in his study." Upon seeing her beaming face, he turned and walked away, while Skylor ran towards the study.

Skylor knocked loudly on the door. "Daddy!"

"Is that my Skylor I hear?" Chen called from behind it, opening the door.

"Daddy, there you are!" Skylor ran in, hugging his legs tightly. "Mommy wants to see you."

Chen smiled, picking her up. "Well, let's go see her then!" He turned to the man in his study– a dark, tall man with a curly brown beard, dressed in clothing decorated with feathers and leaves. "If you'll excuse me, I have other business to attend to. Enjoy your trip home! I'm sure your son is anxious to see you again– what was his name, Bolobo?" He grinned widely, giggling quietly. "It would be a shame to keep you from him any longer."

The man nodded and left the room, seemingly frightened. Skylor hugged her father tightly. "Daddy? Mommy was coughing again. Is she going to be okay?" She looked up at him, uncertainty clear on her face.

Chen's smile faltered, no longer reaching his eyes. "Yes, darling, she will be okay. Now, where is she?" He walked out of the office, looking around. "I just can't find the way around this place like you can, Skylor!"

Skylor laughed, pointing down the hallway. "She's there, Daddy! You remember!"

"Ah, yes, there she is! You're quite the wayfinder," he said to his daughter, smiling again. "It's not so easy for an old, old, old man like me." He pushed open the door to his wife's room. "Hello, dear. How are you feeling?"

His wife smiled weakly. "As well as I can." She coughed weakly into her sleeve. "It's getting harder to breathe."

Chen's face fell, mirroring his little daughter's. "I'm calling the doctor again. There must be something we can do."

His wife smiled, shaking her head. "Darling, we've tried everything. Not even mainland doctors would be able to help me. It's almost time for me to go– I can't keep the spirits waiting. The next generation has to have the world and make it theirs."

Skylor sniffed, tearing up. "What do you mean, Mommy? Where are you going?" Chen frowned as she climbed out of Chen's arms and curled up into the crook of her mother's elbow. "We need you."

Her mother sighed, smiling sadly as she cuddled her daughter close to her. "The First Spinjitzu Master needs me too. I have to go meet him. When I do, I promise I'll watch over you. You'll never be alone– I'll love you forever." She kissed the top of Skylor's head, before turning away to cough into her arm. "I love you so much."

Skylor nodded, now fully crying into her side as her father watched, her mother slowly slipping away.

-----

Kai entwined his hand with hers. "Sky… I don't know what to say. I'm sorry– not that that really helps…"

Skylor squeezed his hand, smiling a little. "It's okay. We're kind of the same that way, huh? You found your parents again, though."

"I guess. Do you miss her?"

"...I can't really tell." She shrugged, leaning against Kai. "After she was gone, my father sank into a deep depression, so Clouse took over running the island. That also meant helping train me to be the perfect pawn, all the while taking my father's attention for himself and away from me. Most of all, he wanted a title. All the while, my father started just… going nuts."

"Like how he was when we were there?" Kai asked.

"Yeah. At first it was his war meetings, and then his business with the noodle company. Eventually, even just me snagging some fortune cookies without permission was enough to make him ballistic."

-----

Fifteen-year-old Skylor panted heavily, drenched in sweat as she tossed away a blunt training sword. She pushed her bangs back, hoping to alleviate the heat. "Stupid snakes…"

Above her, Clouse sneered at her from an observation deck. "Sloppy form as always. Name-calling is hardly professional, miss Skylor. If I were anyone else, I might think you didn't care what your father thought of you."

Skylor scoffed. "That was my fastest time yet! He'd be proud of me, unlike you." She shook her head, muttering to herself. "Who does he think he is?"

Clouse crossed his arms. "I am your father's most trusted advisor, and more unbiased than him. It is my duty to make sure his daughter does not make him out to be a fool."

Skylor sighed heavily. "Of course. Can I be done? Michael said he wanted to show me something cool he got during his trip to the mainland." She wiped her forehead again. "It's hotter than a crucible out here..."

Clouse rolled his eyes. "Fine, go on. Don't do anything dishonorable; it would be a shame if you were found doing something… compromising."

Skylor shuddered. "Yeah, okay." She ran out of the training ground, only to stop short as she saw her father, waiting in the hallway. She hastily stopped and bowed. "Father!"

Chen smiled. "Oh, Skylor! There you are. I've been hearing about your training sessions from Clouse."

Skylor's eyes widened. "Yes, Father? I've been working hard, I promise–"

"This can't keep happening," Chen said, cutting her off. "You need to concentrate! From what I've been told, your form and technique have been abysmal lately."

"But Father, I defeated three of your lieutenants today! Isn't that proof that I'm doing well?"

"Top form, Skylor. Top form! You need to work harder!" Chen snapped.

Skylor sighed, hanging her head. "...yes, Father."

"Good, good," Chen replied. "There's also the matter of some rumors I've been hearing. Is it true that you are able to use the power of our guest from a few days ago?"

Skylor blinked. "You mean that man from the mainland?"

"Who else would I mean?" Chen snapped. "Is it true or not?"

Skylor nodded quickly. "Yes, Father. Can I show you?"

"Yes, yes, please do!" Chen responded, clapping his hands with glee. "I'm eager to see if you can do what your mother could, Skylor."

Skylor smiled, scrunching her face in concentration. After a moment, she opened her eyes to see a flower, having sprung to life in her hand. "...I can grow flowers so far."

Chen's smile widened. "Oh, this is lovely! Just like your mother." His smile briefly fell, before he resumed his dramatic gesturing. "It would appear you are an elemental master, Skylor. We can use this!" He plucked the flower from Skylor's hand. "Daughter, I will tell Clouse to start going a bit easier on you, but only if you promise to work very hand and not slack off. You must learn how to use these powers."

Skylor nodded, beaming. "Of course, I promise! I'll work harder than ever."

"Good, good. That's what I like to hear!" Chen sniffed the flower, then dropped it on the floor and walked off. "Make sure to keep your word, daughter!"

-----

Skylor shook her head. "I wish things had been different."

Kai nudged her gently. "Did something happen?"

She nodded. "Lots of things. Over the years, life on the island got worse and worse. I should have realized something was wrong. I should have said something, but I was too afraid to do anything." She shook her head, squeezing Kai's hand and making her free hand into a fist. "Nothing I did was good enough. If I made a mistake, he cheered me on one minute, while threatening me the next. It got to the point where I couldn't meet his astronomical standards."

Skylor growled quietly. "No matter what, I was wrong, and it was always my fault."

-----

Several years later, Skylor panted heavily as she stood at the end of a rigourous obstacle course. She glared at it, shaded her eyes, and looked up a hill at Clouse and Chen. "How was that? Good enough?"

Chen shook his head. "Try again, Skylor. You barely beat your record! You must be the best of the best. Remember the creed of the Anacondrai?"

Skylor groaned quietly. "Only one can remain…"

Chen nodded. "That's right, Skylor. Now, try it again! And Clouse, have someone bring me some noodles! I'm starving up here!"

Skylor scoffed quietly. "Yes, Father." She trudged to the start of the course and launched herself into it again, only to stumble on a ledge and cry out in pain.

Skylor winced as interference rang out through a megaphone. "Skylor, if you will not do this the right way, I won't allow you to participate in the tournament! Try again, or I won't see you for the rest of the day," Chen ordered.

Skylor nodded, blinking away tears, but stumbled as she walked back to the start. Chen shook his head as he saw her bend over in pain. "Skylor, get out of my sight. You're too tired to continue today. We have two weeks left before the tournament begins– I hope you will be able to continue before then." He waved her away, and she nodded meekly before limping away. As she walked away, Clouse met her in a hallway.

"Well, it seems you now realize exactly how disappointed he is. Do you know how much he has bet on your success?" He sneered at her. "Of course, I'm not all that surprised. You've never seemed to amount to much."

Skylor glared at him, putting her foot down fully and wincing at the pain. "You say that, yet he still loves me. You're just a henchman– you don't even have a title of lordship! He'll always choose me first."

"Ah, but that's where you go wrong. I worked my way to this position. All you had to do was be born. Would Master Chen really choose a sniveling little girl over his most proven, most loyal advisor?" He paused for a moment. "I think not."

Skylor laughed briefly before coughing from her heavy breathing. "As if he'd betray his own daughter. If there's anyone he's ever loved, it's me and my mother– not you."

-----

Skylor smiled, pushing the memories to the back of her mind as she refocused on the present. "Seeing you on that ferry was the best and worst thing to ever happen to me, Kai."

Kai blushed. "Uh, what exactly do you mean by 'worst?'"

Skylor laughed faintly. "You turned my world upside down! I had all these new feelings and didn't even understand them– not to mention that you were my enemy. I was supposed to steal your powers and become a snake so I could help take over Ninjago, not help take down my father and defend an entire country." Her smile fell. "When my father suspected I had feelings for you, he was furious at first. And once he calmed down, he told me I needed to use you to win the tournament. He made me spy on the Alliance, with you as my in."

Kai smirked and nudged her. "Hey, don't beat yourself up over it. It all worked out in the end, didn't it?"

Skylor nodded. "Yeah. It's okay now, I think. I don't always feel good about it now, but it's at least better." She let go of Kai's hand and crossed her arms. "Besides, it's not like I hate him, even though my life was horrible. He's dead. It doesn't matter." She glared at the ground.

Kai put an arm around her back. "Sky, it's okay to not think he's a good person. He manipulated you, he… Zane told me once that victims of abuse don't always know what's going on when it's happening. I don't want to label it or anything– I don't know anything about this stuff– but could it have been that?"

Skylor shook her head. "Yeah, it could've. It was abuse, or something like it; no use trying to deny it. He made me a pawn and said he loved me, promising that my mother would have wanted it or that it could get us to the mainland. He dangled that freedom over my head for years; it was all I ever wanted." She growled in frustration. "In hindsight, it seems like it couldn't have been that bad, but it was! And I just can't get over it. Shouldn't I be over it?"

Kai shook his head, murmuring to her. "You don't need to 'get over it,' Sky. It's not going to go away completely, but that's okay. It'll stop hurting eventually, I promise."

"And if it doesn't?" Skylor murmured, pressing up against him.

"It will." Kai pulled her close. "Lloyd always says he feels better after talking about stuff like this. If you need to talk about this again, just call me, okay?"

Skylor nodded, smiling faintly. "Okay. Thanks for listening."

"Anytime, Sky." Kai kissed her hair.

Skylor took a deep breath, stabilizing herself. "Do you want to go back to my apartment? I really don't feel like being out in the city today. We could watch a movie…?"

Kai smiled. "I'd like that. Come on." He helped her up from the bench, and together they walked back to Skylor's apartment hand-in-hand under the midday sun, with lighter yet wearier hearts.

-----

FROM: Copycat (9:47 PM) TO: Hair Gel Hey Thanks for listening to me today. it really helped.

FROM: Hair Gel (9:51 PM) TO: Copycat anytime, Sky goodnight xx

FROM: Copycat (9:51 PM) TO: Hair Gel Good night. X

[ani-and-the-corries-au]

Ani and the Corrie Guard Jedi snippets.

Since Anakin can't really be on the field and they can't recall one of their top generals, Anakin ends up being placed with one of the initiate groups.

Which, after a bit of a rocky start results in Anakin getting a squad of tiny chaotic Jedi Younglings to hang out with.

The council won't admit it, but none of them have any clue about what to do with young Anakin, he's now even more of a force Anomaly so they really need to keep an eye on him, but also there's a war going on and they need to focus on that, so they're just kind of waiting for thr force to give them an answer while low key stressing as this tiny child causes chaos.

Mace refuses to even be around him because the boy is a walking explosion of shatter points and he gets a headache just thinking about the kid.

Obi-wan and Anakin are both off planet when Babykin Arrives, so they find out over holo call.

Obi-wan really wishes he could take Anakin with him, but he's also well aware he can't have a young padawan on the front lines. He does visit whenever he's in the temple though, because he secretly misses the early years of the boys Padawanship.

Ahsoka meets Anakin entirely by accident when she gets recruited to help with lightsaber lessons, she thinks that Baby Sky Guy is the cutest, but it's also a little strange because the idea that this kid is her master is really weird. What's weirder is that the two get on like a house on fire.

Adult Anakin makes it his life goal to avoid himself as much as possible, he's not entirely sure why, but there's something about coming face to face with his child self that makes him feel weird and he doesn't like it.

He won't admit that he's a little scared of facing himself and what his younger self would think of him.

Tiny Anakin also has confusing feelings about his adult self, mostly because of the fact that he's got this huge reputation and tiny Anakin has no idea how he's supposed to live up to himself.

[femmethpipe]

Red Water | Harringrove

Prologue: I Gotta Know What’s Inside You

Summary: Billy’s avoided Steve Harrington like the plague since that autumn night of ‘84. He’s given the fucking weirdo and the even weirder fucking kids their space just as Max demanded, and it’s worked for nearly a year.

He’s only got until his graduation until he can fly straight out of Hawkins without so much as looking back, but after leaving his beloved Camaro wrapped around a tree and his father’s hand on his shoulder heavier than ever, Steve Harrington, an alpha he knew he could never have, won’t fix that.

But things are never that simple.

TW: everything

Steve’s been driving with a grip so tight, his knuckles were bone white.

Billy steals a glance over at him at every possible moment. At the taut string that’s pulled the alpha’s shoulders into a defensive line, at the blank ominous stare he’s been giving the road for the past ten minutes as they drive further and further out of town.

It was one of those days where Neil wanted him out of the house. A dreary Sunday afternoon had somehow kept both Susan and Max from venturing out altogether which meant that Billy’s presence had to go, preferably without even stepping into Neil’s line of vision which left him to fend for himself while the temperatures dropped. Something about the cold and unforgiving dying that happens in Midwestern winters has never sat right with Billy, but he’s always been fascinated by it; the way everything dies in an explosion of color then rots on the ground. Overhead, the clouds are an ominous gray and the thunder rolls like a strike every so often.

Steve takes a backroad, one that’s twisting a bit too much for the fragile and flighty feeling in Billy’s head and bones. An Oingo Boingo tape blares way too loud and every nerve inside of the omega’s body is jumping, but he keeps it that way. He should turn the music down and ask Steve where he’s taking them, but he bites his tongue.

They were supposed to meet for their usual routine of the alpha feeding Billy and pretending not to notice any bruises the omega probably acquired over the week, after they’d park and smoke and talk. It was the one lifeline the blond had, his reprieve through a piss poor week and his one chance to relax—or relax as much as Billy could two feet away from Steve Harrington.

The dangerous truth was the omega felt like he could finally let go around him. His warm scent and big soft eyes that held no hint of judgement or betrayal. But today is different and Steve has barely said a word to him. Billy climbed into the car to the familiar and potent scent of aggression, but none obviously directed at him. Just looked him all over for way too many seconds too long, long enough to make Billy hesitate shutting the door. That seemed to bring Steve out of whatever trance he’d been in to ask the omega in a hoarse voice if he was okay. Which he was answered with a smart quip about if Billy looked alright.

Truthfully, the omega knew he looked like hell reheated and it kept his knees drawn so far to the right, his temple throbs from knocking against the window. His back burns with embarrassment that he’s wearing worn jeans with scant holes from his thighs rubbing together and the sweater Steve obviously gave him two weeks ago while the logos on the other boy’s clothes that he rightfully owned were about two tax brackets higher than Billy would ever see in his lifetime. His curls are messily pushed behind his ears and in desperate need of a brush though he should know by now Steve doesn’t give a fuck about that shit, that it wasn’t about that. But the deep need to attempt to look presentable, maybe even attractive didn’t forfeit the omega’s mind.

Fucking pathetic.

Billy knew it was. Finnicking over his looks just like he did that night he took out all his issues and problems on Steve, only now he’s shivering in the alpha’s passenger seat like a cat he found on the side of the road, and trying not to feel the butterflies in his stomach when he catches the brunet looking over at him.

The car is suddenly very still and the omega rips his eyes from the veins on Steve’s hand. They were outside of town, Billy knew that much from how long they’d been driving, but another factor about the shitty Midwest was that it all looked the fucking same. Flattened garbage litters the concrete ground and etiolated weeds jut from the cracks. A few faded yellow parking lines stood out just barely below the wet leaves and the trash that Billy could identify as pieces of red solo cups, Fireball shot bottles, and numerous beer cans. Nothing but towering, dying trees ahead of the dim lights of Steve’s Beamer with the clouds above darkening by the second.

The engine’s steady rumble dies as the alpha twists back the ignition. It kills the radio and plunges them into an uncomfortable silence that fills Billy with a cold dread that could no longer be kept at bay by the blasting heat.

The omega watches the bob of Steve’s adams apple where he swallows thickly. “We need to talk about what the fuck happened, Billy. I can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep—“

Billy’s heart drops to his ass.

The alpha lets out a frustrated growl, one that takes him aback at first, but Billy will be damned before he allows an alpha to know he was intimidated.

“Keep fucking what, Harrington? What the fuck do we need to discuss that requires you to drag me out to the goddamn sticks?” The blond’s teeth bare and he wants Steve to snap his own back; juvenile, volatile, wishing for punishment because anything was better than beat around the bush, prayer circle sympathy.

Steve’s wide eyes stare at him from across the car like Billy was a sheet of glass. Right fucking through him since day fucking one.

Emotions stir under Billy’s skin and much to his dismay, there wasn’t much anger left for him to muster and use to fight his way out of this. It would have been easier that way. Scream in Steve’s face that he’ll kill him if he ever tells anyone Billy Hargrove gets fucked by his own dad after getting the shit stomped out of him. Then maybe slam his car door hard enough to shatter the window as if it would make him feel better.

But he knew it wouldn’t. Billy’s learned that plenty.

The man across from him takes in a deep breath like he’s steadying himself and Billy supposes he is. He wonders what that’s like, thinking before action, being smart enough to not fly off the fucking hinges at the change of an emotion and controlling himself.

I can’t keep doing this. The raw blister of betrayal pangs in his throat. His chest feels concave, unsurprised yet he’s never been accepting of being left behind before. This time wouldn’t be any different despite every emotion in his body swaying Billy like a storm every time he saw the Beamer parked somewhere waiting for him.

The omega had been telling himself to await the day that Steve’s eyes would linger too long somewhere they shouldn’t, that maybe he’d even be sympathetic enough to kiss him on the mouth once or twice, but inevitably he would only be welcome to the backseat in due time. One day, he’d told himself countless times over the past few months, but not today. It was the one thing Billy thought he had a penchant for, knowing when his time was up and his welcome was nearly overstayed. Car rides spent with only music and cigarette smoke between them on long roads and shared milkshakes and hot meals and warm blankets—He’d been almost fooled.

But he would have let him, something like Neil laughed at him every night he’d have the audacity to dream of something more between them. Billy would have let Steve do whatever he pleased if it meant closeness and the absence of the looming dread of loneliness. And let the humiliation afterwards burn as painful as the hurt from the alpha’s perfidy.

Billy’s grin splits in a sardonic smile that mirrors every ounce of his winded and broken pride that could no longer mask his hurt. He huffs in fake amusement and his words fall like feathers in a dead wind rather than cutting like the knives they used to be, “I never fucking asked you for anything, not a goddamn thing.”

A heavy sigh plummets from the brunet and behind his eyes, the omega can tell he’s thinking over everything with the same stubborn resolve he’s always had. It makes Billy dig his nails into his palms.

Placid eyes stare dead ahead into the dying foliage and settling clouds. He shakes his head in denial, “That is not what this is about,” Steve’s eyes dart to his seat then back at Billy with a puppy dog exhaustion that made the omega only more irritated, “Why is it always that with you? Why can’t I just be fucking nice to you without you thinking I’ve got one out for you, or some shit?”

Because that’s how these things work, Billy knew simply.

There wasn’t a way on earth Steve was that clueless as to what they looked like around each other. What people had been saying. What the entire world thought of omegas like Billy Hargrove and what they hung around for.

The omega draws a sharp breath, one that hurts his ribs and burns on the way out, “Jesus fucking Christ,” Billy bites out in a breathy, frustrated mumble before he finds that last string of red, that one remaining vein of gasoline to blow as he lights the match, but even then— “If your charity case work and taking care of unfortunate poor kids isn’t getting your rocks off anymore, maybe you should just take me the fuck home.”

“You don’t get it, Billy, I can’t go back to just fucking watching, I won’t.”

“Watching what?” The blond challenges, fucking spit it out.

“Why won’t you just let me take care of you?”

“What’re you trying to say, Steve?” He whispers the man’s name into the cold air between them.

A year ago, he would have been whatever cheap insult came from Billy’s rolodex first, months ago he would have just been Harrington. And it makes him want to blow his brains out that even just saying some alpha’s name meant so much to him; even worse when he knows that Steve knows that.

God, he always fucking knows.

Pretty boy sticks his nose in business that doesn’t have anything to do with him. Always ready to be someone’s knight in shining armor and even worse, Billy wants exactly that. Without deserving it. Aware there’s some shit even Steve’s heart of gold can’t fix.

He looks ready to say something, but the omega stops him dead in his tracks.

“I won’t suck you off or let you fuck me,” Billy spews like a busted beer can and God, if that’s not a lie. “If that’s— I know you don’t just give a shit. And I know that you know I don’t have anything else to give you. We’re not here for no fucking reason, so you can just say it and we can be on our merry fucking way.”

Because that’s the thing. Wild parties, tight jeans and tight shirts, fast car—Billy’s fucking poor. He’s loose, if anyone off the basketball team and cheer squad have anything to say about it. Steve should be running for the hills before he ends up making a decision he can’t take back.

“It’s not you saying this shit, Billy. I know it’s not.” The alpha’s face is painted in an emotion he doesn’t recognize, but then he’s turning in his seat to get even closer.

“Look at me.” Steve commands and Billy should tell him to fuck off, that he doesn’t take orders from a fucking baby alpha, but he tries.

Looks right at his soft brown hair that reminds Billy of the big redwoods in California when the light hits it just right. Broad shoulders covered in denim and wide, warm palms that didn’t feel like shackles when he’d grab Billy’s wrists. Steve’s scent was so potent in his car; burning wood and spice and smoke that fogged up his brain until he was so confused he thought he was safe.

Steve grabs his hand, so gentle yet his hold firm, and the sudden intensity of the alpha’s eyes meeting his own is too much. His hand is warm, but then again everything about him is.

“If I made you feel that way, that’s sure as hell not why I care about you. I mean, fuck Billy—I don’t just give people my clothes, alright?” Steve’s voice is filled with a desperate exasperation. “I don’t just stay up until the middle of the night driving people around while they try to fall asleep in my backseat, okay?”

A heavy sigh empties from the other man’s chest while lungfuls of the alpha’s scent burn Billy’s like whiskey. He looks just as tired as the omega feels for a second, but then he’s holding him tighter. “I thought my intentions were obvious for a while now.”

Steve lets the words hang in the air and he doesn’t let Billy go. It’s not like he wanted him to.

But he still has to try to pull away and aim his eyes out at the dying wild around them, only the alpha won’t let him go. It makes his heart sing. “Who told you that shit, Billy? Him?”

More and more, the dam of tears building in his eyes readies to spill over. They burn and bite at everything Billy thought he knew about himself. He prepares for the world to end, to stop turning and burn up in fire and ash, but only the patter of rain begins its descent from the clouds against the windshield. His throat is filling with cotton balls, but he’s not going to be hit; nothing is hurting at all. He nods his head and suddenly, the gate busts and the flood comes. But Steve is there.

His touch, his scent and all. Driving Billy crazy because he’s being pulled out of his usual reality of just surviving. Steve is here, making sure he’s safe when no other person has ever done that for him. He’s angry, but not angry at him, for him. And Billy can’t fucking breathe.

“That day, when I knocked on your door—“ Steve wets his lips and the trepidation in his words is almost too much for the omega to take.

“He said that.”

The man across from him appears to chew his words. “Does he hurt you? Does he do that shit to you, Billy?”

There was so much he knew the alpha wanted to say when Steve had unfortunately shadowed the Hargrove residence. Trouble was, Billy was getting closer and closer to baring his heart and fucking soul to him. The shaky lies he’d feed Steve kept burning his tongue every time he’d have to force them out. The anger which bled into exhaustion finally catching up to him like an adrenaline rush wearing off.

Because Billy was tired of the lying. Of trying and failing to keep the voice that Neil drilled in his head from getting too loud; of black and blue skin and blood stained sheets; not really living when being around Steve chases those feelings away and shows him it doesn’t have to be that way. Because Steve is so good and safe. And Billy is a greedy fucking leech for wanting to hand all his life away for someone else to fix.

He shakily nods his head out of distrust of his voice. Something sits at the edge of Billy’s tongue so heavily, he wants to fucking bite it. Shit he’s never said before, never wanted to say out loud or even think of again that he feels he needs to tell Steve. How he’s been running from everything, he wants to stop but he doesn’t think he can stop and how he’ll only bring him down with him in the end.

“He’s been angry for so long.” Billy’s voice is wet. He prefers for all of his words to come out swinging and ready for a fight, but that’s disappeared from him now. He’s too tired. “Even before my mom left.”

“Steve—“ If Billy wasn’t in love before, he was now at the way the alpha hangs onto the omega calling his name.

“I’m so tired of feeling dirty all the time.” The omega admits and suddenly there’s weight just gone. The words of weakness taste acrid like a pill he couldn’t swallow, but it’s gone. “It’s like I can’t get him off of me no matter what.”

Billy takes a breath that feels too big for his chest, but then he takes another at the force of the gasp erupting from his throat when Steve’s safe, steady palms take hold of his face. His eyes are so big, sometimes the omega thinks he might just constantly be in awe. But Steve is looking at him like that even with Billy’s armor stripped and burned away. Fuck, he can’t stop crying.

But there’s something more behind the whirls of dark amber. A shudder pulls through every nerve in the omega’s body. It’s like a match striking how goosebumps erupt on his skin, but this time not from the cold. From the heat in Steve’s gaze that’s pouring into his scent. It’s anger and fury and rage that Billy is all too familiar with.

Not a word is uttered between them. His nostrils were flared and a slight tremble in his shoulders, but he’s holding the omega so gently. Like he’s worth something. But he’s so angry and the omega should be thinking about running. Billy’s heard Steve get pissed off before, both times directed at him before they exchanged blows; then just a scratchy drawl expected of a teenage alpha and the omega practically laughed in his face. Now, the placid look in his eye is the blinding lightning flash before the blood curdling thunder of his growl. Steve sounds like nothing other than a predator closing in on its prey. His scent fogs the car with something Billy can only think of as wrath. Ice runs through the omega’s veins and every bone in his body drops in submission.

Cinnamon. Diesel. Not at him. For him.

A primal noise falls from the omega in a soft whine and for a moment, Billy can see the battle of animal and man quells within Steve. It’s a sound he’s never made before, but it comes so naturally. Since when does Billy Hargrove fucking whine? Since Steve Harrington, apparently.

His touch is hesitant, but he feels so sure. He’s everywhere, blanketing over the omega in a weight that makes him boneless. Steve’s fingers ghost over his cheekbone before his thumb rests over his cupid’s bow. A fine delicateness to Steve’s touches leaves a trail of fluttering goosebumps on his arms and up his spine. Being admired like fine art, something meant to be protected and cherished, it sends a tremble down his body in a wave of emotion. Billy presses into the touch and allows it to spread like a flame.

Steve presses his lips against his thumbnail and Billy fucking shakes. It’s a promise, one that could only end in fucking disaster and pain and loneliness will take the omega again. But it’s getting harder for him to believe that when the alpha is looking at him this way, even when he doesn’t have his usual glamor that serves him well as his armor.

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” The alpha’s hushed tone is intimate, pleading almost as if he were asking for an apology, “I should’ve done it when I saw that fuckin’ bruise on your neck. I can’t let him get away with doing this shit to you.”

Billy can see the anger begin to simmer under his skin once more, so he makes that noise again. It’s soft and high pitched and so unlike everything he’s tried to craft about himself, yet still comes to him like he’s done it for Steve before.

The alpha huffs through his nose again in frustration, this time at himself.

“Maybe there is some fire in you after all.” Billy’s breathy voice is embarrassing, or it should be, but he doesn’t care. Barely crosses his flighty mind.

The fire in the alpha’s eyes dims for a moment and left is a puppy dog where the wolf once was. The omega cooes at how adorable it is.

Steve snaps his canines just an inch away from his face. It’s playful, it’s sending too much fucking dope to his brain that Billy doesn’t know if he can handle. He lets his head dip to the side and the incessant yet delicate press of the alpha’s fangs on his flesh has his head filling with sap. He’s so far fucking gone for this alpha and they haven’t so much as necked yet. A shudder erupts down his back and his cold toes curl in his converse.

“‘Hair is so pretty.” Steve murmurs. Like himself again as he sinks his fingers into the blond curls and holds Billy’s nape.

He’s floating.

-

tbc

[sonicasura]

Not sure if the Kaiju number 8 world is escapism for the characters, or me. Probably both. Somehow I always bring KNACK around to sad/weird.

Lucas looks up to Reno, who is older than him but has similar traits. Lucas is too young to join the Defense Force, but in the meantime, he's likely to hang out more and more in that universe and hear the stories. Reno is kind of like an older brother, which is a role Knack can occupy only sometimes.

Once Reno impresses on Lucas how dangerous Kaiju are and why Kafka's secret is so important to keep, poor Kafka feels teamed on when he gets two earfuls about being reckless instead of one.

Knack gets chewed out, too, because Lucas wants to keep him safe. Though Knack may at some point tell him to 'zip it!' When priorities change.

The safety of his friends and family is more important than Knack's own protection. In that respect, him and Kafka's tendencies align.

He burns through Sunstone energy like fire through gasoline, however, those times he gets involved in battle. Kaiju are *nothing* like humans and goblins. I wonder how he might mess with Kaiju sensors, if at all.

Kafka's fatherly tendencies have interesting effects on the KNACK boys. Lucas finally feels listened-to and valued by an adult, and after the boys figure out how Knack's portals work, Lucas feels less and less inclined to return home every visit. Especially after getting into arguments with the Doctor. I think Kafka recognizes this as a problem, but I'm not sure how he approaches it.

The weirder part might be Knack's temperament. Knack's been alive for less than a few years, and I headcanon that this is his only go around with the whole existing thing. So Knack has always been as he is. Kafka has only been half-kaiju for less than a year, but is in his thirties, as we know.

Knack asks Kafka how he handles being different, mistreated for his looks even though he's human. Knack probably made an assumption that Kafka has had his kaiju powers for longer than he really did. Lucas points out that Knack seemingly implied that Knack is human when he isn't. And Knack shuts down after that, only giving one-word answers or silence for the rest of the talk. That's why it's kinda weird and I'm not sure how to explain Knack's feelings. He likes how he is and the way he looks, so he's not ashamed of himself in that way. But he called himself human for some reason.

This just makes me think back to Knack 1 where the Doctor says that Charlotte was his better half alongside Lucas genuinely being an orphan(lost his mother and no father in the picture). He genuinely cares for the two but sometimes his interests get the better of him. I think that's why Knack alongside Lucas have been exploring on their own while Doctor and Charlotte were at the Monk Temple in Knack 2.

A massive argument which makes the older man realize both his assistants need time to grow as their own individuals while he needs to reflect on himself. They do separate on better terms though when Lucas' group ends up seeking the Doctor for help in Knack 2. Both our younger heroes definitely flourished during their personal journey.

It also makes senses why Lucas ends up losing it later on in Knack 2, he doesn't want to be pushed to the wayside and ignored again especially for his blocky brother figure. An irrational fear as Knack would never dare replace Lucas something reaffirmed once the two are stranded on that island together.

Reno and Kafka sorta just speed up the process of the eventual separation. Both give the younger boys that needed reassurance but also validation. Kafka and Knack cope with not being human alongside learning about themselves better. Lucas gets to really show off his ideas but actually feels seen due to Reno than just our favorite himbo. Both people allow our boys to truly grow into their own individuals.

You can say exploring the world of Kaiju No. 8 is like finally being able to leave the nest in my opinion.

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios Adventures

Dear Theo,

I'm glad to hear that you're able to enjoy some of your time away at least a little. I promise I'm not jealous. Elowen literally knocked some sense into me on that topic, trust me. I trust you. (Don't underestimate Elowen, she's quick with a wand)

Remember Master Josh Toyonaga's husband and that temple he's been working on in Strangetown? Well, they have a smaller branch in Arkhelios now and my parents allowed me to attend a day of study there. Well, my dad refused to sign the release form probably because he thinks that I'm about to run away and abandon the coven at a moment's notice. Mom signed it though, and hugged me really strangely afterward. She's acting weirder than ever, but at least she's willing to listen to me when Dad won't. I hope you get to check out this place when you get back. It's amazing. I got an official escort at President Bellamy's request from your grandfather and that pink demon who always yells at your dad. Not everyone gets an escort, but she said that I was an exception.

A lot of demons work there, more than I imagined anyway. Maybe they'd let you do a summer internship there and if you're already there, maybe my dad will see reason and let me join too.

I met your aunt(?) Ginevra while I was there. She works with her wife full-time there with their kid. She's really nice, I don't know why your dad doesn't have her over more often. He is related to her, right? I hope so, because I talked to her like she was your family. She says hi and to come visit when you're in Arkhelios. I think she wants us to hang out with her or something. That or she wants one of us to marry her foster kid who's in college. She wouldn't stop talking about him and winking at me. If she's not actually part of your family, she'd fit in perfectly.

Her wife, Maegan, is a full demon, but she studies the same weird religion as Master Toyonaga's husband and helps him both study ancient tomes and collect new information. She talked a lot about certain crystals that could be found deep in the ocean and others that have seawater crystallized within them. Theo, you have to help me convince my dad to let me intern here this summer. We could do it together and find the coolest things. You get to wear cool old robes too.

There are these cool meditation stones that channel different kinds of energy depending on the stone. I meditated on our future and when you'll come back for two hours, but nothing happened really. It's not the stone's fault. My mind is never clear when I'm thinking about you and how I feel about our relationship. Maybe I'll try a stone that channels love and affection next time. I hope there's a next time. Maybe they sell them online?

It's always fun to see how adults act when they think I'm not listening. Ginevra could talk your ear off about arcane magic, even blood magic. I feel like you two would have some very interesting conversations. She's looking for something even if she won't admit it. I hope that doesn't have anything to do with your father somehow.

Scary Pink Lady (I forgot her name and am too terrified to ask again) certainly has her mother's personality. I gather that she's not popular with the Sovereign and has been stuck listening to the concerns of the mortals as punishment. She thought I was you for a moment, despite knowing about my arrival. I don't think she can tell two humans apart, or if she can, she makes no effort to. I got to hear about a sippy cup she gave your parents at their baby shower that you would think was jewel encrusted by the amount of time she bragged about it. Demons are more complicated than I'd realized, even with having you in my life. Everything is so dramatic and the end of the world if they're slighted at all. Even the ones who serve this supposed Ocean deity are just as terrifying as the demons at home. Maybe you can tell me more about your studies of demons or let me borrow a textbook or something. Since I plan on being in your life for the rest of mine, I should really learn more about demonic society.

Your grandfather didn't say much. He mostly hung around the hallway, watching me intently. Your dad really does look like him (well, not like a zombie). It's uncanny.

One last thing-I saw a tree made with crystals growing in it. They developed a symbiotic relationship with the tree and now magic flows in its roots. It's different than the decorative trees made of crystal in Crystal Cove. The wood absorbs the magic and some people make wands from the enchanted wood. They taught me how to make it light up and it was the coolest spell I think I've ever done. (You usually do all the interesting spells we try)

You could just feel the magic running through it from the branches to the leaves. It reminded me of how you make me feel when we're casting spells together. Both of us working together, twisting our magic together and usually nearly blowing up the school together if you listen to my parents.

I hope this letter finds you well. I hope that you're doing great in your studies and that you can come back home soon. I miss you more than anything.

Love Sincerely,

Adam Darktide

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Yellow City, Chapter 15 - a Malevolent AU

This happened sometimes, when Parker was working on more than one case. He got so focused on the one in front of him that the other seemed to solve itself. That the other, in fact, fit together like puzzle pieces, and he just hadn't noticed.

Chapter fifteen of Yellow City. Note: this chapter is not explicit, but the fic is.

AO3

-----------

Parker hadn’t really spent much time in places with lots of books. He still recognized the smell.

Weird.

His nerves still buzzed, a deeply unpleasant echo of something bad, but he didn’t feel sick, didn’t feel infected, and the horrible sense (familiar, hated) of his own body putrefying was gone.

Even weirder. He managed to open his glued-shut eyes.

Huh. Some room he’d never seen in his life. Human-sized bed (funny how tiny that felt after all this time). A door. A little dresser. A table by his bedside with a sandwich and a glass of… was that milk?

Tucked just underneath the sandwich’s plate lay a neatly folded piece of paper.

Welcome back, Mister Yang. You are in the Scriptorium. Tabby healed you, and I left you some food on the table. There are fresh clothes in the dresser; I had to guess at your personal style. Please, help yourself. Call out to me when you would like to talk. —The Keeper 

Huh.

Huh.

Being awake and alive was weird enough. Why’d she do all that?

Wouldn’t be the first god who’d done something unasked-for. The Defiler did it to obligate him. Hastur did it to please Arthur. The fuck was this for?

Parker searched his memory. He couldn’t think of anything he’d done that might prompt all… this.

And he knew the feeling of what he’d been hit with. Knew what The Defiler had used. That spell was horrifying, and Y’golonac had never even bothered to clean up after attacking with it, but just rotted Parker to the bone and then dragged him back again from the dead.

Had he died? The note didn’t say he’d died.

Parker salivated. The sandwich looked good. Milk, too. “Fuck it,” he said, and ate. While he did, he studied the note. Yeah… yeah. He wouldn’t like to talk yet. Getting dressed held more appeal.

The clothes—dear gods, clothes. Actual pants. A shirt. Socks. Socks! He almost moaned as he pulled it all on. She’d even included boxers.

For a moment, fully clothed, he lay back on the bed and stretched, just feeling it all and absolutely relishing it. This was nice. Even if it didn’t last, it was nice.

He still didn’t want to talk. Maybe after he got eyes on the place. Yeah.

Arthur’s description of the Lady’s home had made no damn sense. Sounded like black cobwebs the size of buildings all along the walls, and coffin-bookcases, and about six hundred arms reaching around corners. Couldn’t be like that.

Moving very quietly, Parker opened the door and peeked out.

So the good news was it wasn’t a trick, and not Y’golonac’s palace. The bad news was it didn’t look too far off from what Arthur described.

Dark. Kind of drapey. Light way up high, like moonlight peeking through windows too inset to see. Enormous, still shapes that maybe were coffin-bookcases, though coffins for what, he didn’t know. Sure looked to him like a few Hasturs could stand in those things, one on top of the other.

Right. So it was back into the nice, cozy room… or learning the truth of this place.

He was an investigator. He stepped out of the room and quietly closed the door.

It wasn’t quite as dark as Arthur had said, at least. There was a rug under his feet, absorbing sound. He kept to the wall, counting steps. No one bothered him. No acolytes, no guards, no servants. Hastur didn’t have any, either, but this was so much bigger than his temple. Parker could feel it.

He couldn’t resist getting over to one of those coffin-shelves to see what he could see. Books. Just books? None in any language he knew. The letters weren’t even ones he recognized half the time.

They weren’t in the condition Arthur had described, though. Dusty, sure; but Arthur had made it sound like they were water-logged, burned, and ruined.

They were fascinating. He’d honestly never imagined so many books. He wondered what they said. 

He wondered if “Keeper” meant “keeper of books.”

He put the book carefully back and continued exploring.

How the fuck big was this place? A tiny child-like part of him wanted to shout and hear the echoes.

A light ahead. Warm. Flickering firelight, humanly comforting.

Well, that was obviously where they were. And there was no way they didn’t know where he was. Fuck it. Nothing to lose today. “Lady!” he shouted, louder than needed, so he could hear the echoes and get her attention at the same time.

“Hello, Mister Yang.” Her voice was huge in this space, like it was coming from the walls, the ceiling, all around him. “How are you feeling?”

His echo was good. Hers was better. “Okay,” he said, which didn’t mean much, but he wasn’t great with words. “Uh. You?”

“Tabby is safe, my guest has regained his consciousness and his health, and I am well. Thank you.” She let out a low, soft chuckle. “Are you still hungry? I assumed you would prefer me not to hover, so I left something that wouldn’t spoil. Except the milk, I suppose, but I did a tiny enchantment on the glass to keep it cold.”

Was she checking to see how he valued it? What he’d trade for more? “It was good.  Milk was good, too. Haven’t had that in a while. So what do I owe you?” Might as well get to it.

“It was complimentary. I view it to be poor form to charge a guest who had no choice in his visit.” She let out a rumble that he more felt than heard, but it wasn’t a bad noise. “I appreciated your efforts, you know. It was very kind of you, particularly since we had just met.”

Sure. He wasn’t buying this. Why not say it? He’d already faced down one god today. “You’re a god. This shit’s always transactional. You don’t gotta schmooze me.”

“I find transactional relationships distasteful, Mister Yang. Whenever possible, I prefer to avoid them.” She let out a sigh. “I do not need humans the way my cousins do. I like humans, make no mistake; I would not have gotten involved if I did not, regardless of how nicely Arthur Lester asked me. But I need no gratitude from you.”

Okay. There was much to untangle there. Parker chose what thread to pull. “They need humans?”

“Correct.” A creak, and a bookshelf shifted near him, and a long, multi-jointed arm clad in black silk and a lace glove ( holy fuck ) picked through the books and pulled one off the shelf. “The Great Old Ones and the lesser gods are part of the same cosmic ecosystem that humans are. As humans grow, and flourish, and multiply, you create billions of little moments of magic and choice and tenacity; and these are the building blocks of what the Dreamlands used to be.”  

More clues, falling into place. “Sounds like we need each other.”

Another hand folded down from the ceiling, impossibly high, and opened the book; inside, a portrait of a tentacled horror and a human interfacing in what looked like worship decorated the page. “We do. In return for what humans create, we gods help form the world you live in, both metaphysically and literally. We take the threads of reality that Yog-Sothoth wove when he created matter and space and time, and make them habitable. Some are deities of life and growth, like the Great Mother, Shub-Niggurath. Some, like a certain bastard who deserves no further mention, are deities of rot and death. And there are others; deities of music and madness, like Hastur, deities of fire or magic or knowledge or any number of other things. In times before, we co-existed, barely registering one another save for the machinations of certain sects. The Dreamlands was self-sustaining with its own discrete populations of humans, not to mention the incredible variety of minor gods and demigods and half-humans, and all of them a font of creativity, of magic, of will that shaped the Dreamlands and kept it mostly stable, and beautiful, and constantly fueled when a human from one of the other worlds dreamed something totally new into existence.”

Did she always share so much? Was like a year of classes in here. “It ain’t like that now,” he said. “Gods’ve died. I’ve seen the pieces the witches collected. I’ve seen the busted statues in that Contract pavilion. And people… there’s a lot fewer of them, too. So the balance is off, and not just in the Dreamlands.”

“You’re quite discerning,” she said. “The Fires of Y… I don’t know that I can properly express the amount of blood spilled, Mister Yang.” She sighed, heavy. “The ones who died when the bombs fell were lucky; their death was instantaneous. The ones who did not fell to a slower, crueler fate; starvation, disease, their bones decaying within their body from the radiation—think of it like a kind of magic that damaged the fundamental building blocks of your body. And by the time any of us knew about it, it had happened, and…”

She let the word trail off and it was like the spare light in the Scriptorium dimmed, like the bookcases hunched over him. One of the hands, a left one, sagged. There was a ring on it; on its left ring finger, a glittering red jewel set into the silvery band.

“They are lucky the witches begged Shub-Niggurath to intervene. She is the most powerful of us, at least the only one who is willing and able to help; she was able to stop the complete destruction of humanity. But I imagine you know that story already.”

Parker exhaled slowly. “Some of it. Asenath said there were lots of worlds. That somehow this fucking… fire happened in all of them at the same time. That true, too?”

“It is true.” The bookcase shifted again, fanning out, and the ring-bearing hand began to poke through the titles. “When the Dreamlands were still whole, my Scriptorium was based in a place called Leng. It was a crossroad for many worlds, chaotic and dangerous, but it enabled me to gather knowledge from many places and many different universes. Timelines. For whatever reason, somehow, some way… The one who shared the information regarding the Fire of Y did so in every single timeline, and every single timeline had fools arrogant enough to bring about the devastation of those bombs.”

Weird. That made a lot more sense than a lot of the piecemeal versions of this he’d been told. “So they’re all like Cloud City?”

“They’re all gone, Mister Yang. All that remained was gathered to one world, one place and time, and sustaining that stability requires more than we have to give.”

Yeah. That tracked, too. He breathed for a moment, considering. Then he nodded. “Two things.”

“Ask away.”

“So, one. Seems to me like one small population on one Earth can’t sustain you guys forever. Am I right?”

“Correct.”

“Yeah. Two.” He took a slow breath. “I don’t think they all know that, but I think Hastur does.”

“Hastur most certainly knows; I cannot truly speak for the others.” She sighed once more. “Since the Fires, the only god I have spoken to is Shub-Niggurath. The others… Well. I believe you are very familiar with those who approach with empty hands and harsh words.”

“Uh.” Parker stared blankly at the nearest hand. “Nothing… good happens to those guys?”

“Yes.” And this sound was most certainly not a happy one, and the bookcase shifted again; and these books were…

A book shouldn’t have a presence.

“Hm… Ah, yes.” She pulled one off the shelf, one of the dozens that sat in a neat row. It had a beautiful green leather cover, the pages within a gentle cream, and something that looked disturbingly insectoid reinforced the spine. “This, Parker Yang, is what remains of the god H'chtelegoth.”

And the sound that came out when she opened it split the air, split his ears, split worlds—

“Holy shit!” Parker gripped his ears.

She snapped it shut, just as quickly. “H'chtelegoth came to me demanding the Parchments of Pnom, an item that I had in my collection. In exchange, he was ‘willing’ to give me back Sor—one of my acolytes.” The god paused, then, and it was like she was steadying herself. “Something you must understand is that these Parchments… They contain a genealogy, of sorts, for us. On its own, harmless; like how most of my collection is, on its own, harmless.”

One of the hands trembled.

“My acolyte knew better. She knew what he intended to do with them; he intended to use them to gain allies, to form a coup and enable the harvesting of the rest of the humans. Part of what keeps many of the Great Old Ones on a level playing field is not knowing who may or may not be more powerful; it is a risk to enter into a territory war. But enough gods who have been convinced they are descended directly from my ilk stirring the pot, and you may have a problem. She… She died to ensure I knew.”

Holy shit .

So being descended from an Outer God was important. And also, pissing the Keeper off meant getting turned into a screaming book.

Fucking gods.  

He had to keep a grip on himself. Casually, he began to pace.

It felt really good to have his hands in his pockets while he paced. Familiar. Easier to think. “So when the gods finally fuckin’ die out because the Dreamlands go to hell, humans will too, right?”

“It is certain.” She replaced the terrifying book onto the shelf. “If all of us were to fall… well, reality itself will begin to erode. Humanity may crawl onward for a time, but matter itself will fall apart. The protections that were put in place to hold back the radiation would fail, and in time, the last human would breathe their last breath. A slow, sad end to a very sad story.”

Yeah, no shit. “Gimme a minute. Okay?” 

“Take as much time as you need. I can wait.” The shelf of books-that-were-not-books slid upward, away, gone, protected. 

He resumed pacing.

He didn’t want to know this. When a guy knew things, big things, he had to act on them. That’s how it worked. At least, for him.

He knew it wasn’t really on his shoulders. She wasn’t asking for help. Didn’t matter, though. Now, it wasn’t just save the miserable world from the gods. It was fix it or everyone dies. 

It wasn’t fair. His god had betrayed him. Everything he’d believed had been ripped away. Justification for the bad things he’d done had been burned to ash, and now, this. This.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Fuck,” he said louder. “Fuck!” And he spun and punched the blank wall between shelves. 

“FUCK!” The Keeper howled, rattling distant windows and making those fucked-up person-books shiver.

That was startling as hell. “Whoa, what? What?” His eyes were huge. “You fuckin’ felt that?”

A silhouette appeared at the distant firelight. “Keeps?” Tabby called. “You good?”

“Oh!” The hands jerked backward a bit. “I… Alright, first, yes, I did feel that, but it didn’t hurt, and I didn’t take it as an aggressive action towards me.”

Parker stared at Tabby, his eyes huge. “I punched her! I… I didn’t know she was the wall!”

“Oh, Keeps, you big baby,” Tabby scoffed, jogging over.

“I didn’t swear because of that,” the Keeper protested. “I got caught up in him swearing, because you’re right, Parker: it’s fucked.”

“Sure, sure. Like this wasn’t a ploy for my attention.” Tabby rolled her eyes, patting one of the hanging hands as she walked to the spot of wall. “Here?”

“Stop it.”

“So you don’t want me to kiss it better?” Tabby aimed her gaze somewhere ceiling-wise.

The Keeper paused for a guilty moment. “He is very strong,” she said. “I am terribly wounded.”

“You mean your pride is wounded,” Tabby said, pressing her lips to the spot on the wall.

“I assure you, it is not.”

Tabby snorted. “It should be. This is embarrassing.”

One of the hands reached down and ruffled the girl’s dark hair, and Tabby stuck her tongue out at the other.

Parker did not know how to handle that casual affection. At all. At least the power dynamic and occasional sadism of Hastur and Arthur (even with all the new, weird changes) made sense to him. This did not, was dangerous, and threatened ( Charlie) the comfortable it didn’t happen like you thought story he told himself.

So he shelved it. “I got something to say.”

“It had better be an apology,” Tabby said mock-sternly.

“Be nice to him,” the Keeper said. “Please, Parker—unless you prefer Mister Yang. But please, speak.”

He stared at Tabby for a second. Like hell was he apologizing for a god being the wall . “Look, how long would it take to… no, that’s the wrong way to do this.” He bared his teeth for a moment. “Sorry. I suck at talking. Okay. Hastur’s got this plan. He’s got a plan for Carcosa that includes shrinking it three times and, I think, still working solid. How much time you think that’ll buy everybody?”

“You need not apologize, Parker. I quite like hearing your thought process.”

Sure.

“As for this plan, I haven’t seen it, but…” The god clicked her tongue a few times. “Guessing on what Hastur would do, given the fact he reportedly has a brain… I’d say another two centuries the first downsize, assuming he reduces Carcosa by about a third. If he reduces it up to half, maybe three. Perhaps another century on the second. As for the final… It depends on who is left.”

Parker licked his lips. “I’m goin’ off incomplete information here. All right? So. Bear the fuck with me.” He was back to pacing. “If the gods got… fed better, or whatever the fuck they get outta dealing with people, could that slow down more?”

“In essence. We either need fewer gods or more humans, or a better way to deal with the Contracts.”

Tabby made a face.

“I know.”

“I’m guessing here,” he said. “Contracts. Asenath said the Mother tried to make that fair, but… still… weighted toward humans. Right? Best she could, while still putin’ the squeeze on you assholes. No offense.”

“None taken. I can’t Contract, Parker. Outer God.”

“But he’s right,” Tabby said.

“Can’t Contract,” said Parker. “But you sure as fuck ended up speaking through her out there. Did you get fed by that? Whatever you get through that?”

“I am fed by the natural chaos of the universe, Parker. It is my nature, as it is the nature of my siblings.” Somehow, the hanging hands managed a shrug. “As for our sojourn… That was a necessity, if I am to attend the vote.”

“Keeps can’t leave the Scriptorium.” Tabby leaned against the nearest bookshelf; another arm appeared, pulling a quite-nice armchair out of nowhere and set it next to her, and tapped the girl on the shoulder until she sat in it. “It’s a whole thing. Long story that we don’t know the answers to yet.”

“Your friend asked for my vote,” the Keeper said gently. “I’d spent a long time avoiding getting involved in anything like this. I had never even thought about it. But I decided, since my participation in the vote will bring my cousins’ attention to me whether I desire it or not, it’s time for me to do my part in helping fix things. And that started with getting eyes on what was happening.”

“And testing how much power I could hold until I exploded,” Tabby added, “and monitoring my blood sugar levels so I didn’t pass out, and scribbling down all your observations of how excited you were to be outside, and—”

“Yes, thank you Tabby, I’m sure Parker understands.”

They were getting off track. “I understand more than that,” he said. “Asenath said the Mother helped you do it. Right?” 

“Correct. She provided me with an artifact that allowed me to siphon off most of… I’m not sure how to describe it.” She let out a low, sheepish laugh.

“I can,” Tabby said eagerly.

“Tabby.”

“It won’t even be a truly heinous sex joke, I promise.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You shouldn’t. Anyway. So gods are big—big bodies, big souls, big magic. Keeps especially is huge, because she’s an Outer God and all of them tend to be pretty cosmic in scale. You take something that big and try to put it into something small, something’s going to have to give.” And for a moment, her face flickered, grew grim. “You may recall, uh, what was going to happen to Arthur if Y’golonac’s ritual succeeded.”

“Yeah.” Low. He knew his shame. There was no point in pretending otherwise.

“That is the reason many Great Old Ones can’t Contract, either, and no Outer Gods can; it is rare for a human to possess the power of will to harbor even a piece of them.”

“I know. It’s why I didn’t even consider it might be fucking Hastur calling himself ‘John,’” Parker said. “Assumed a servitor. Never thought it’d be an equal to the Defiler.” He sighed. “If I had… dunno. It would’ve gone down different. But the Defiler didn’t think of it, either, so. There’s that.”

Not much of a comfort.

“The artifact the Great Mother gave me allows me to, in essence, tether myself to Tabby’s soul to enable my consciousness to leave the Scriptorium. It is easily done, given that our mark connects us as it does, and that I am quite motivated to not burn her out; for the vote, I will need to do more, but the artifact should allow me to keep Tabby’s soul tethered to my own while I occupy her body. We just… need a bit more practice.”

“It’s not perfect yet, but I’ve got the smartest and prettiest girl in the whole wide universe on my side,” Tabby said, batting her eyelashes at the ceiling.

Fuck, these two. He stuffed more into that shout about it later box. “Okay. So. So.” He gripped his hair. “Back on track, okay? I know our population’s shrinking. Fucking Wastes take more every year. Arthur’s town—Harper’s Hill—there’s lots like that, that got sort of… eaten. Okay. So. If the gods…” He had to say this right . “If the gods were able to do more, hold back the Wastes, make the Lake and the ocean not just fucking wet death , humans could… make more of us. Right? The population could grow again. And if that could happen, they could feed more fucking gods. And if that happened, the gods could… protect humans more, and we could expand even more. Re-open places like Harper’s Hill, I dunno. Something. Right?”

The two said nothing for a moment, but Tabby was grinning. “I told you, Keeps, he and I are the same person.”

“That is what you said.”

“I can smell it. I'm on some fuckin’ wolf shit right now with how good I sniffed that out.”

“You were right,” the Keeper said primly.

“What?” said Parker, because what?

“What you’ve said is… an idea, yes,” the Keeper said. “A fascinating theory—one that makes sense, but I do not believe I would have reached it quite as quickly.”

“Yeah, well, being mortal makes you skip a few steps,” he muttered. 

This was the kind of reasoning the Defiler had always praised, too, but that… that praise hadn’t been true. It hadn’t been enough for his god to even like him . 

That wasn’t important now. “Pretty sure fucking King in Yellow’s already on board. He likes complicated bullshit.” 

“You seem to know him well.”

“I do.” Parker paced. “K’thanid will be on board. Nath-Horthath wil, too. Those guys are big hitters.” And he sighed. “I fuckin’ hate it. I’m not… into this. Get me? I hate this. But I want us to survive, and we can’t do that without you people . But you can’t survive without us, either. It’s gonna take investment on your parts before we can give back.” And he breathed heavily. He had to get this right. “So if we’re gonna do this, vote first. Then that Contract system’s got to be updated. Fuck. Fuck. Maybe whatever the Mother gave you can work for other gods, too. The rules’ve got to change, don’t they? How the fuck…” He sighed. “Does it make a difference if bigger gods get to do it? Does that… I dunno, help the gods under them? Maybe mean less Contracts needed? I’m gettin’ ahead of myself. Sorry. Words ain’t my strong suit.” He’d talked too much. He knew he had. It never went well when he did. He clenched his jaw, dropped his head, and paced.

“You were utterly wasted on Y'golonac,” the Keeper said, voice low.

“Oh, you’ve got her in a mood now,” Tabby said, and winked at Parker.

Parker closed his eyes tightly for just a moment. “Naw. Got all the blood he wanted spilled. Arthur was just better.”

“He used you as a hammer when you were a surgeon’s blade. That worm-brained fool—did he keep you in the dark? He must have kept you on a very short leash. I imagine you would have been impossible to stop if you'd been allowed to act of your own volition.”  

That was a load of horseshit.

Though she wasn’t completely wrong. There had been no wriggle room, no space for failure. And he’d only failed once.

Once had been enough. He swallowed and didn’t answer.

Her voice was full of wonder. “Gods, I hate him. The petty cruelties are one thing, but to waste such potential. Abhorrent.”

“He—” There wasn’t anything to defend. Nobody had said anything like that before.

Or… maybe they’d said some of it. Asenath (who was biased). Arthur (who was nuts). But this was coming from someone without shared history, who stood to gain nothing from it.

Reality called. Gods didn’t care for him. This praise was suspicious , no matter how… nice… it would be if it were true. “He promised things and did them. Kinda hard to argue with that.” It wasn’t an answer. Too bad. “Just tell me what you want outta this, talking to me, telling me shit. I want it laid out going in. No surprises.”

“From you? Nothing, at least at present; in the future, who knows? I believe you have promise; I believe you’re a wickedly smart man who was willing to sacrifice himself to protect my marked, not to mention bold enough to challenge me, one of the most powerful creatures in the universe, directly to my face when you felt I was speaking out of turn.” She laughed, light and pleasant. “Though I will say, I don’t believe you were aware at the time. At present, Parker Yang, all I can offer is a choice. Once Hastur has finished tearing Y’golonac a new asshole and the riot has dispersed, you may, of course, return to him and to Arthur. Or… If you wish, you may stay.”

Oh, what the fuck was happening now? “Stay?” 

“If you desire, you do not have to go back to Hastur. You could stay here, in the Scriptorium, under my protection; not as a priest, or an acolyte, but merely as yourself. You may dress as you please, spend your days reading or learning or doing nothing at all—you would be able to meet the others who dwell here, under my protection.”

“No more collars,” Tabby said.

Parker stared.

“Consider it thanks for your efforts to ensure my wife was safe when Y’golonac attacked,” the Keeper said, voice gentle. “You need not answer now; you may even change your mind, if you decide to leave, and I will… what’s the metaphor? Put a foot in the door?”

“No. I think you want ‘keep the light on’ or ‘keep the door cracked’, or something like that,” Tabby said.

“I demand no Contracts, no pledging of your soul, no worship. Merely a ‘yes’ or a ‘no.’”

“Kind of like it was before,” Tabby said, very quietly.

“Before… My acolytes came and went as they pleased,” the Keeper said quietly. “Perhaps, once things are better, you may as well.”

Parker straight-up didn’t believe this.

Come on. This kindness? This generosity? From a self-proclaimed one of the most powerful beings in the universe? Bullshit.

But he heard her. And the fact that she didn’t demand an answer right now was more important than sandwiches or boxers. “Thanks.” He knew that was abrupt. Not enough. Too bad. He was out of words. “I think I need to go back. Arthur… I wanna see where that’s going.” He needed to see this through.

He needed to see Y’golonac defeated.

He needed to go home.

“I understand,” the Keeper said, and it felt like she knew Parker meant more than he said. “Do you want to leave now? Or… Would you like some time to center yourself? Time will only pass for us.”

He frowned. “How long I been in here?” 

“With us? About… nine hours. Out there? Maybe ten minutes. Long enough for the mayhem to have finished.”  

He stared. He’d been in here nine hours. “Took a while to fix that shit, huh?” he said thickly.

Tabby made a face that said everything Parker needed to know. “Yeah. Had to get some backup from Keeps.”

“Healing is not my forte, but power I have in spades. Tabby was able to channel quite a bit of it, and at last we were able to purge the infection from you.”

“It was worth it, though.” Tabby grinned. “Keeps cried.”

“I did not.”

“You pulled through, though. Might have been through the power of spite, though,  especially since it looks like you shook off whatever lingering hold he had.”

The truth popped out without warning. “He killed me lots of times with that.” Parker found himself shaking a little. “I really didn’t die this time?”

“I was not going to allow that to happen. Anything worth fixing is worth fixing correctly. Would you like to sit down for a bit?”

He would not like that. Maybe needed it, but would not like it. Nope. Limit reached. Feeling red-faced, he said, “Can I go?” Fuck, he wasn’t trying to be rude. 

“As you wish. If you decide you wish to speak to me again, let Hastur know.” She paused. “Actually… Let Arthur know. I have a good feeling he’ll be able to call upon me if he needs to. I would give you a more direct egress, but I would rather avoid Hastur barging in.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. He’s always digging in everybody’s drawers,” said Parker.

“I’ll see you out,” Tabby said, hopping out of her armchair. “Sorry.”

“For?” He tensed.

“It was a lot.” The girl put her hands in her own pockets as she walked, leading him through the bookcases effortlessly.

“Oh.” Maybe his scale for “a lot” was off. “Not really.”

“Nah. I recognized that look on your face; same one I had when I first got shoved in the Scriptorium more than seven hundred years ago.” She shook her head. “Pretty sure, anyway. Didn’t have a mirror at the time.”

“Fuckin’ old for a human.” Said slightly aggressively.

“I know. I look good for my age, huh?” She grinned at him. 

“Yeah. But you didn’t die?”

“No. I was sort of…” She paused, scrunching up her face as she thought. “I guess ‘portaled’ is correct, though it was more of a… I had a friend who, as it turns out, was one of the Mother’s witches, back before the fires. One day she just… She said she hoped I would understand, and gave me a shove, and I ended up in the Woods.” She laughed, low, flat. “It was a pretty big surprise for me. I was a psych major.”

“A witch saved you?” And he took a moment. “What is a ‘sike major?’” 

“Oh, shit, right—you guys don’t really have higher education.” And that made her look sad. “I was in school; I went to a place called Miskatonic University. I studied psychology, which is understanding how the human mind works. I…” She paused. “I wanted to help people. But it wasn’t a discipline that had anything to do with magic. Fuck, I thought magic was pretend, you know? Stuff you read about in books, that didn’t really happen, and though my friend called herself a witch I assumed it was in the sort of ‘let me read your cards’ and ‘this crystal clears negative energy’ sort of way, not a ‘I’m going to portal you to a freaky eldritch forest and see if you’ll worship my god, which by the way is also a real thing you have to contend with.’”

Crystals and cards were tricky magic he went absolutely nowhere near, but it sounded like Tabby hadn’t known they held power.

Or maybe they hadn’t, in her world. She’d lived a life without magic.  She’d known a world without gods… and it had still burned.

He couldn’t go there yet, but chose another thread to pull. “A doctor for the mind?” 

“Yeah. That exactly.” She smiled. “I, uh… I had it really rough as a kid. I wanted to… I wanted to help other kids not end up like me.”

“A head-doctor. Shit. That sounds useful. And yeah. I get that desire. It’s why I became a cop. None of them fuckin’ helped me as a kid, so.”

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions, I suppose,” Tabby sighed. “I… I’m sorry it was so shitty for you. Especially if it was shitty enough that you decided to be a cop, yeesh. No offense.”

He shrugged. “Well, it meant I’d be above the law, too. Needed that, for what I was doing.” And he blurted it: “Beat the fuck out of a few child molesters, though. So that felt pretty good.”

Tabby whipped around at him and beamed. “Fuck yes! That’s the shit cops should do!”

He looked at her. “You too, huh?” he said, getting right to the heart of why someone, an adult, would have such a passion about that particular crime.

For a brief moment, she froze. A series of microexpressions flitted across her face; surprise, confusion, realization. Sympathy. Grief. “Yeah,” she said, flat. “...Yeah.” She started walking again. “Sort of… Sort of hoped the gods had done away with that one. Like they did homophobia and stuff. Cultural bullshit. But… Well, I mean, fuck. Predators everywhere, I guess.”

So many threads to pull. “Predators always think they can get away with shit, human or god.” 

She looked at him. “You aren’t wrong.”

He was too tired to be delicate. “Bet you’re glad that radiation your wife-god mentioned happened to yours.” 

“Sure fucking am. Couldn’t have happened to a nicer person.” She let out a soft laugh. “...Did you… Were you able to get yours?”

“Some.” Even. Flat. “One died of old age. One was gone, fuck if I know where. One I fucking murdered on the dock, and that’s the one Y’Golonac used to get my attention. I stopped caring after that. Had other things to do.”

“...I haven’t thought about it in a long time. Funny how that sort of happens, huh?” She shrugged. “Is that why you got so prickly at Keeps at the Hall of Contracts?”

“When was I prickly?” he said, prickly.

“When you called her out about that Contract—what’d you say? ‘It’s more than most of these shits will ever do?’” Tabby clicked her tongue.

His shoulders relaxed. “Oh. That. In part, yeah. Just. People like to make noises at things they don’t approve of without fucking offering any other options.” He shrugged. “Dunno. Rubbed me wrong. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, man. It was deserved. You called her on it, and she admitted it.” Tabby gave him a playful punch in the arm, earning a startled look. “She… It’s kind of different, for them, but she knows… What happened, with me. And she had a similar experience with one of her brothers, though he more wanted to… I dunno. I was trying not to go insane and die at the time.”

Parker stopped dead and stared at her. “That can happen to gods?”

“He wanted control of the Scriptorium.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “She was barely over a hundred; it was just over a year after the Fires. He was older, thought he was smarter and stronger.” She let out a soft breath. “Might have been outside it, fuck, I dunno. We don’t really know exactly how this place works, just that she’s tied to it.”

“She felt it when I punched the wall. Uh.” He looked a little sick. “We’re—”

“Oh, right, all that. Pfft.” Tabby rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry she freaked you out when she shouted like a lunatic. Just so we’re clear: you absolutely didn’t hurt her. She was being a drama queen. And she gets excited when people yell, and likes to join in, so it was a prime opportunity for her. Yeah?”

Parker stared at her. “We’re inside of your wife-god. Maybe I’m not gonna think too much about that.” 

“Yeah, I don’t recommend it. It’s complicated. But she can also, like…” Tabby stuck out her hands, as if trying to manipulate something Parker couldn’t see. “She can also like… not be in places, in here? She is it, but she isn’t. It’s all deeply within the realm of what she and I both call ‘Outer God bullshit’ and it is also something that I had to deal with when she and I weren’t on the best of terms.” Tabby paused. “Or, well… When I wasn’t on the best of terms with her, I guess. Another long story.”

He had reached his limit and gone beyond it at this point. “I need to go home.”

“Yeah, yeah. Workin’ on it. Need to go just a touch further… there. That’ll do it.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a doorknob. “Hey, just in case you decide not to come back: it was nice to meet you. You’re fun to talk to.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that weirdness. “Sure. Dunno about your wife-god, though. No offense.”

“None taken. I’ve had a long time to get used to her, you know?” She laughed, holding the doorknob out to nothing, and a large set of wooden doors sprouted from the knob’s handle.

Someone on the other side was calling his name. 

That felt weird. So weird. Calling for him, trying to find him, like it mattered he was gone? Really?

For him?

“Sounds like your ride’s here. Y’know… Keeps likes you. Even if you decide not to take her up on the offer, it’d be cool if you visited. You can bring Arthur too, if Goldenrod lets him go.”

“I… yeah. Maybe.” Probably not. Arthur was… one did not bring Arthur places. Arthur went places, very much on his own. 

There was nothing left to say, so Parker gave her a nod, and stepped through.

#

Hastur grabbed him before his feet even touched the churned-up ground.

This place was absolutely fucked. It had been the Contract pavilion. Now, it was rubble. Rot ate the grass and melted the stone; chunks of statuary lay where they’d been exploded, and a black groove in the ground announced where something large had been forcibly pushed right out the entrance.

Hastur was… 

Hastur. 

Was.

Angry.

Hastur was so fucking angry. Parker had never seen him truly angry, and hadn’t realized that until this moment. Petulant, ridiculous, fussy, demanding… but this. This was angry, and Parker suddenly realized that even at their worst moment, he had never gotten Hastur like this.

“You’re okay!” Arthur cried from below, and he sobbed. “Fuck… fuck, I thought he got you.”

“‘Kissinger’ did not win,” said Hastur in a voice like thunderstorms at sea, and any words Parker had left dried up and died like plants never watered.

He trembled. Hastur was so angry.

Hastur picked up Arthur (who reached for Parker, reached, with both hands, and Hastur brought them together without hesitation), and then flew.

From above, it was clear where the fight had happened. It was like some kind of pointed fire, like an aimed explosion, burning the ground and ruining the part of Carcosa that served to give gods access to the human world.

And suddenly, that mattered. Suddenly, that was important, because it wasn’t just what gods wanted to do , but something they needed , and no one was really safe to be around when starving, and if they all fucking killed each other now, there’d be no chance to save anyone, ever.

“Fuck!” Parker said. He couldn’t stop shaking.

Arthur held him.

Tentacles trapped them both, shielded them both, and kept them together.

Arthur’s tears cooled on Parker’s neck. “I thought he fucking got you.”

He couldn’t handle this. No one could handle this. What in fuck was this? “He did get me. Fuckin’ Keeper made it better.”

Hastur growled.

Oh, no, all the other angry sounds had been play growls , nothing serious, nothing like this sound that warped the air and ached like old wounds and made Parker cry out and made his eyes water and—

Arthur raised his face and kissed him. Deep, intimate, without hesitation.

Not expected. Nope. Acceptable response not found. Parker’s gaze rolled to Hastur, who had to react badly to this, who had to respond with crushing rage, who would hurt him so much that he’d wished he had stayed in the spooky library with the crazy ladies.

It did not happen.

That growl happened, low and scary, but not at him . Parker could feel it. Parker knew it. “He will pay for this,” Hastur threatened.

Arthur breathed, forehead against Parker’s, and he was still leaking tears. “Don’t fucking scare me like that again. And sorry. I should’ve asked.”

“I…” He what? He fucking what? “I don’t get it.” 

Arthur met his gaze, and Parker stopped breathing because this man was sane. “You’re an idiot,” Arthur said. “You could’ve just fucking walked over to us, or waved, or anything other than what you did. I thought he fucking killed you.”

Hastur still wasn’t hurting him? “I… no. He didn’t. For once.”

Arthur’s voice shook. “Fucking hell, Parker.”

Carcosa looked fine. Normal. Like it always did: stupid, showy, uneven, pieces given over to other gods with no sense of symmetry. “Where is he? Where’s the Defiler?”

“In his temple,” Hastur said, low, dangerous, “and he will stay there tonight.”

The concept of consequences now—after all this time without, after complete certainty that they could do anything they want at any time—filled Parker with something akin to joy. “He’s… in lockup?”

“He is awaiting trial,” Hastur thundered. “And tomorrow, he will have it. ”

Damn. “Because of the pavilion?”

“Idiot.” Arthur sighed, so close they shared heat. “He attacked someone else’s possession. He attacked a human, and we’re so fucking rare. He fucked up the Contract system for everybody. His fucking… filaments were everywhere, almost fucking invisible. Nobody saw them but you.”

“So it… it’s good?”

“The Contract system is down,” said Hastur, grim. “Firmly down. It will not be easy to repair in a hurry.”

And Parker now understood why that was bad. “Fucking hell.” And he knew how Y’golonac worked, knew exactly what had gone down today: “He wanted you to attack him. He wanted to blame you for it going down because the violence is obvious.”

Hastur’s rumble was…

Oh, the god was still angry, yes, so furious, but that right there was a pleased sound, and it struck Parker as every inch as dangerous as rage. “Yes, little traitor,” Hastur said. “That is correct. It seems your former master had laid a trap.”

“It would’ve been so much worse,” said Arthur. “Hastur was supposed to be weaker when it happened. Thanks to you, it happened early. We can handle this because of you .” And his lips touched Parker’s ear. “He kicked the Defiler’s ass. It was fucking great. ”

They’d clearly been going through a time in the ten minutes since the Defiler tried to kill him. “Uh-huh.”

Arthur rested his forehead on Parker’s shoulder.

It had been ten fucking minutes! Parker looked at Hastur.

That rage still loomed, still bloomed, still blossomed, but it had… gentled. “You no longer smell of rot.”

What? “Sure.” He swallowed. “You gonna kill me? He… Arthur’s touching me.”

“Arthur has done more than that in the past. He has taken you into himself, and amortization is overdue,” said Hastur, amused. “You were attacked. You vanished under a writhing tangle of hideous growth and filthy putrescence. Then… the Keeper responded.”

Amori-fucking-what? “I was gone ten minutes, ” said Parker helplessly.

Arthur met his gaze. He was so close. “I thought we lost you.”

Too close. “You’re gonna get me killed.”

“No,” said Arthur. “You’re our partner.”

“Wait. I…” Puzzle pieces, fitting together just fine, only he hadn’t been paying attention. “Wait. You… but… wait, Hastur is… uh.”

Hastur… laughed. Low.

“You’re our partner, ” said Arthur again.

Had they always meant—

Wait, this wasn’t—

They were at the temple. “Fool,” said Hastur fondly (and still definitely laughing at him), and then they were inside. And the evening was beautiful, and the night was cool, and he slammed the doors behind them. They gonged, loud, metallic, final.

Parker shuddered. He didn’t know where to look.

Hastur was back to growling. It rattled decorative vases and bowls, made incense sticks dance in their basins, sent ripples along the surface of the bath to splash against the far lip. “He will pay.”

“He will.” Arthur stroked his arm. “He will.”

Everyone needed a bath. Hastur was covered in soil and what might be pieces of god-flesh. Arthur was dusty, grass in his hair, smears of mud or something worse. Parker was…

Parker was in clothes Hastur did not like, and Hastur growled as he plucked at them. 

“No!” Parker shouted, clutching his sweater to his chest. “No. A gift. From the Keeper.”

Hastur actually sniffed imperiously. “Remove it. I cannot see your flesh.”

Oh, the fuck was all of this?

“Sorry, again,” said Arthur. “I should’ve asked.”

Whiplash. Talking to any of these guys was whiplash. “What?” said Parker, frozen.

“I kissed you. I don’t think you’re ready yet.” And Arthur unhooked the big (ruined) skirt thing and slipped out of his boots.

Parker stared.

“Off,” Hastur rumbled.

“The fuck do you care?” Parker blurted at him, because Hastur was safe to yell at, because Hastur wouldn’t get sad eyes like Arthur could.

“I want to see you,” said Hastur.

“So it ain’t just putting me in things because I complained, after all?” Parker snapped.

Hastur… froze.

Caught. Caught! He was caught! Parker pointed at him. “You lied to me.”

“I teased you,” said Hastur. “Also, I did not lie. I merely withheld some of the truth.”

“I’d so fucking have you in lockup for a night if you were one of my guys,” Parker found himself saying because he’d apparently gone mad.

Hastur cupped under his chin with a thin and flexile tentacle and raised his face. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Power… over me .”

Oh, dear gods, the way he’d said that —

“Parker. That stuff might not do so well in the water,” Arthur said gently because Parker was still clothed (and Parker was glad he was clothed because things had responded right the fuck away and this was just too much on top of everything with the Keeper and—)

“Yeah,” Parker verbalized, and took off the Keeper’s gifts.

Hastur watched him.

It wasn’t like Hastur ever fucking blinked, but Hastur didn’t fucking blink, and the power and penetration of that gaze was so different from Y’golonac’s and Parker was still stuck on power over me and—

“How did she help you?” said Arthur already in the water.

Focus, Yang, he thought. “She… her, uh. Wife. Healed me, somehow.”

“I will repay her,” Hastur rumbled.

“No. Lady said it’s because I tried to save her wife when the Defiler attacked, so I paid for my own care, apparently,” said Parker who could do nothing about his almost painful arousal, and so just went into the water. 

Arthur went under, scrubbed himself, and straightened, water streaming, puffing, and steaming in the cool night.

Parker stared at him, distractedly washing his arm. “Partner.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean. I mean I’m partner.” He paused. “I sound like a fuckin’ idiot.”

Arthur laughed softly. “Yes. You are partner.”

“You meant…” Parker waved vaguely.

And he could see the strain, see the effort of will to give as clear an answer as possible: “I mean… you’re partner with us. Whatever that looks like. You’re staying. You’re safe. You’re… you’re ours, and we’re yours.”

“Dunno that’s so much of a ‘we’ thing,” Parker muttered, and turned to look at Hastur.

Hastur looked so damned amused.

Parker narrowed his eyes and turned back to Arthur. “What’s all that fucking mean, Lester?”

“Whatever it means as we figure it out.” Arthur squeezed out his hair and headed for the edge of the pool.

“I don’t do so good without fuckin’ boundaries!” Parker shouted after him.

“So we’ll make them. You don’t want to be touched, you don’t get touched. You don’t want to be partners, you can back out.” Arthur looked at him over his shoulder, sane, sober, shockingly steady. “But I don’t want you to. We, you and I, are part of something. Hastur was part of it because he was part of me. It’s all changed, now. It’s a mess. But I think we can… we can fix this, Parker. The three of us.”

Okay, maybe not so sane at all. “Fix this? Fix what? What the fuck?”

“Just think about it.” Arthur grabbed a towel and left.

“Food,” said Hastur.

“Ugh,” said Arthur.

“Food,” said Hastur.

“FIne,” said Arthur, and they were behind the silk screen and out of sight.

Parker sat in the water up to his chin and went quiet for the next hour.

#

They let him. Let him sit in there, stewing, perhaps literally and figuratively. Let him think, let him take his time, and try to find words again now that they’d all gone up like magician’s flash paper.

He could see now that he’d misunderstood… well, a whole fucking lot. That once Arthur was marked (and Hastur was sure he couldn’t be “taken away”), once Parker had apologized (and Hastur had approved), and Arthur continued to heal and they actually talked in the mornings… yes. He could see it so clearly.

This happened sometimes, when Parker was working on more than one case. He got so focused on the one in front of him that the other seemed to solve itself. That the other, in fact, fit together like puzzle pieces, and he just hadn't noticed.

It seemed so obvious now.

And it was terrifying, because it wasn’t how he’d thought… families? Partnerships? The fuck would he call this? Well. This wasn’t how he thought they happened at all.

He’d literally gotten into a fight when he met Charlie the first time at a crime scene, because Charlie was trying to take photos, and Parker thought he’d fuck up evidence. But then Charlie had spoken smart, and spoken soft, and gotten Parker calmed down if not quite laughing, and then taken him out for coffee and pie, and… 

And they kept going out for coffee and pie, and it was really obvious, and Parker knew he wanted that man from the moment Charlie Fucking Dowd stood up to him in front of a dead body.

Charlie had gotten to him, but he’d known Charlie would. Known, because what Charlie said hit home, because when Charlie smiled Parker smiled, when Charlie cried, Parker wanted to kill whatever made him do that.

That wasn’t this.

Parker had always known when he was attracted to people. That part was easy.  He hadn’t expected… this. He hadn’t known he felt like this. None of this.

He wanted to be partners, and it had snuck the fuck up on him like a silent cloud, the kind bringing rain so quiet and light that he didn’t even know it was going to rain until he was in it.

Yeah, he thought. That was the right comparison.

He already was partners here . He didn’t want to live with the Keeper. He wanted to live with them.

He wanted to touch Arthur back.

Fuck, he wanted to see what Hastur would actually let him do, how far he could go.

Parker Yang realized he wanted to stay, and he hadn’t known he did, and now that he knew, had no idea what to do about it.

Just stay, of course, not really being an option. It was too complicated for that. Wasn’t it?

Arthur: complicated. Very complicated, guilt and hope tangled up like some knot that would just have to be cut or it’d always stay tangled. 

Hastur…

Would be his god. Not Arthur’s god. Their god.

Parker realized he was shaking when he noticed the ripples sliding away from him to splash against the sides.

Complicated. And on top of all of this, the Dreamlands were failing, humanity was dying out, and the only way to save anyone was a wild play, a one in a million chance, with everyone working together, and completely reworking the damned Contract system—which had been smashed to shit, so. Maybe they could make it better. 

What would it be to do that with them instead of alone?

He’d assumed alone. Sure, alongside the Keeper, and alongside other gods willing to do shit, and with Arthur peripherally, but this wasn’t that. This was… together.

Side by side, not just facing each other across a room.

Safe. With a god who actually wanted them to live?

Arthur’s kiss lingered, and Parker raised his fingers—soapy and perfumed—to touch his own lips.

He could hear those idiots talking over there. Hastur’s low rumbling and Arthur’s sweet tenor, and he knew he could just walk right over and join them.

But then what? What came after that? 

Parker had no idea how to do this.

Whatever it means as we figure it out, Arthur had said.

Maybe… maybe he didn’t have to know how to do this.

That was a big fucking risk to take. Go into a thing without knowing how and you could blow that whole thing up.

But what if he didn’t?

“I don’t deserve some fucking relationship ,” Parker murmured into the water, and then thought, so? Lots of people got shit they didn’t deserve.

But if this wasn’t going to last… if it was all going to go to hell at once because of this trial, or wasn’t going to survive what came after, was it worth it? He clenched his fists. He didn’t know. Who would know? That was too big a thing to know.

Parker startled badly as Hastur lifted him from the water. 

“You are getting wrinkly, little traitor,” said Hastur, still so damned amused like all of this was funny and not just the craziest shit Parker had ever tried to juggle.

“You don’t say that name the same way no more,” Parker accused. 

“Whom you have betrayed has changed,” Hastur said. “Food.”

Whom he had betrayed had changed. Wow. Wow. “Really don’t wanna eat, big boy.”

“You will eat.”

Parker decided to ask the Keeper if he could have time off from eating, because this was stupid.

He also decided he wouldn’t answer the partners thing tonight. Much as he might like some of the outcome, he wasn’t ready yet. Not yet.

But maybe he’d push a little.

After some spicy soup with bits of egg in it (grudgingly admitted to be delicious), Parker decided he wouldn’t lie on the edge of the bed tonight, which he usually did when Hastur was in it with Arthur. Not tonight.

He glared, daring, challenging , before climbing over this ridiculously huge mattress toward them.

Hastur did nothing.

Parker got up behind Arthur, who smiled at him before lying down.

Hastur did nothing.

Parker lay right behind Arthur, curved against him, and slid one arm around his waist, glaring daggers at the god the whole time.

Hastur… fucking purred . “Yes,” he said.

Arthur made a happy sound and was out. Asleep. Parker would never figure out how in hell he did that so fast every night.

“You have made the wise choice,” said Hastur.

“I ain’t made no choices yet, buddy,” said Parker, daring, pushing.

Hastur chuckled at him, a low sound that pulsed through his purr like some kind of engine.

Fuck, thought Parker. I am in over my head.

But somehow, he fell asleep soon after.

----------

Notes:

Keeper and Tabby cameos thanks to @sepiabandensis, who brought her ladies in for this one.

[veayrss]

𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐗𝐘.

Summery: waking up in mid air falling to your death in a world that is definitely not earth? Then seeing anakin skywalker and obi-wan kenobi?

Warnings: Swearing

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭: 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧, 𝐎𝐛𝐢-𝐰𝐚𝐧, 𝐘𝐨𝐝𝐚, 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭:𝟏.𝟑𝐤

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝟏, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝟐, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝟑, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝟒, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝟓, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞...

I walk in, eyes looking everywhere and at everyone. This is a dream come true, something I always wanted and wished would happen. I see senator bail talking to boba fett. Outside I seem calm but on the inside I'm totally fangirling. As we made it to the big front doors I stopped walking and just took a moment. Obi-wan and Anakin stop as well and watch me staring at the doors.

“So.. this isn't fake. This is real?- oh my god.'' I bend over, holding my weight in my knees and breathing heavily. Obi-wan and Anakin look at each other with questioning looks and Obi-wan clears his throat, “Uhm, Ms L/N are you okay..?” he asked me, his tone full of concern yet i can hear a bit of amusement.

I take in a deep breath and put one hand up shaking my head, “yeah, yeah, yeah, i just like- need a moment to collect myself.” I gulped loud, I could hear Anakin sigh, annoyance filling that sigh and I shot up making him look at me and probably think I'm even weirder than he thought. “Let's go.” I mumbled quickly after making awkward eye contact with Anakin, making Obi-wan sigh with a slight chuckle.

He opened the doors with the force, I watched in amazement.

~~~~~~~~~~

Anakin watched her with a look of wonder and curiosity, his eyes never left her since he saw her, he couldn't explain why but he felt drawn to her. She looked like one of a kind, it was clear she wasn't from any planet he's heard of, been to, explored. So he is very excited to find out where she came from. He found it amusing and adorable at how amazed she was with the temple, though he didn't find what was so amazing about it. He thought it's probably because he spent his young days here and was used to it.

But watching her look around all amazed just because of the temple he wants to show her around the planet, show her all the world's he's traveled to and show her all the amazing things he found there.

As they walked into the councles room and walked in last, Obi-wan went first, me second. He stood off to the side, hands being his back just like obi-wans

“State your name.” Master Windu damned, making you straighten up your posture and slightly nervous. “Y/N L/N Sir.” you answered, tone more mature then how you answered when Obi-wan asked.

He nodded his head leaning back on his chair, “care to explain why you were falling from the sky?” he asked you, his glare cold and his tone reminds you of when your parents catch you doing something you're not supposed to.

You sucked your teeth picking off the red nail polish you applied just last night, “well, you see I'm not even sure how the hell i got here personally myself.” you started off, clapping your hands together rocking back and forth on your feet, “one moment i'm in my bed, the next i'm freezing my ass off because i'm falling from the damn sky. Then these lovely gentlemen-” you looked off to the side waving at Anakin and Obi-wan, then brought your attention back to Windu and Yoda, “saw me and saved me.’ you finished bringing your hands to your side and smiling awkwardly.

“How did you know who they were or about us?” he asked, making you chuckle nervously, your hands started to sweat as you whipped them off your sweat pants. Anakin hated how Windu was making you nervous and uncomfortable, he doesn't understand why but he feels protective over you, want needs you to feel safe and secure, he doesn't want anyone make you feel any less, you are just a damsel in distress, to him in his point of view your his damsel in distress.

“Okay. this might- this will make me sound like a fucking crazy person, but hear me out” everyone seemed intrigued now, especially anakin and Obi-wan.

Though despite all of your silly actions and weird behavior Anakin couldn't help but find it cute how every time you talked you moved your arms and hands.

“See this is my theory it is probably right, where i am from you all,” you pointed at everyone making sure they get the hint, “are fake.” you smiled, putting your fingers together, everyone seemed startled by this information and most seemed as if they didn't believe it,

“You may go on.” yoda spoke for the first time upon your arrival and you got this sudden boost of confidence because the little green man seemed to be more on the intrigued side of this whole thing.

“Okay, get your popcorn folks because this is about to get crazy.” you said taking a deep breath, Anakin smirked at the fact of how you're so dramatic, but it makes him want to know you even more.

“Im from another dimension- yes i know that sounds fucking bonkers, its coming out of my mouth. But where i'm from, my planet -its called earth by the way- you all are fictional characters, you're from one of the world's best movie trilogies. Like I know everything about you all. I know what will happen in the future. I know what happened in the past and what's going on right now- maybe.. But beside that point-” you rambled, making everyone shocked, surprised, everything.

“See anakin- you're currently 19. Obi-wan you're 29. And where I'm from, the people who play you their names are Hayden Christensen and Ewan McGregor.'' As you went on explaining everything everyone started to believe you more, after you finished the room was silent, so quiet i bet if you put your mind to it you could hear the beats of everyone's hearts.

“Okay, if what you're saying is true, how do you go home?” Obi-wan spoke up, scratching his chin thinking hard. You shrugged, you looked over at anakin. He was staring at the floor before looking up at you, he seemed as if he was going to speak and then he did. He asked a question you wished no one asked, especially him.

“What happens in the future?” you stand there, the room became silent again catching everyone off guard but also wanting to know what you were going to say, even Obi-wan had this look of curiosity.

“Look Anakin, no matter how much i want to tell you and fix all the wrong, make all the rights even better i can't. There's lore. I cannot ruin that. There are things that are so important that one fix, one mistake, will ruin everything. Trust me when I tell you I want to tell you all, everything in detail, but I can't and it's killing me, but I just can't.” you spoke a tone of sadness yet determination, flashes of the future running in your mind.

anakin turning into the darkside, his fight with obi-wan before count Palpatine found him and put him in that dark broadening suite, him and ashoka, luke and leia, Padme, everything.

Anakin nods, understanding, but you can feel how disappointed he was. “Right you are young Y/N. The future has in store for us, we cannot ruin.” you looked behind yourself and smiled at yoda.

Anakin only watched you, everything tuning out as he saw your H/C hair, it looks so soft he wants to play with it. Your side profile looked as if the best artist throughout the galaxy made it, your beautiful E/C shining through the bright evening sun, seeing your eyes close as you smile at yoda, your lips turning into a smile showing your teeth made him jealous and envy yoda for getting that sight and not himself.

He doesn't understand why he's feeling this way. It's as if every thought, memory, fantasy of Padme was erased. The only woman that took over his mind right now was you yet he just met you? He knows your time spent here with him and his Master is going to be very chaotic, he feels as if even if you said you can't change the future by telling him and everyone else you already have just being here, and the thought of you leaving already breaks his heart.

[dumbfinntales]

After my ARPG addiction, I decided to finally try out a game that has been sitting in my library for over a year now, and a game which development I followed until release. The Sinking City. A very flawed game, but currently the closest one to a lovecraftian themed game that I enjoy. Strange cults, odd happenings, even weirder creatures and madness are a plenty in the sunken city of Oakmont.

I've always wanted a cosmic horror game where you explore a dilapidated town, or a fishing town of some kind with strange creatures and survival horror elements. The Sinking City seems to deliver this on the surface and succeeds somewhat, but also fails in many aspects. This game is a bit of a janky unpolished gem, and you'll either ignore its flaws and enjoy it for what it is, or absolutely hate it. I happened to enjoy myself enough, but I don't see myself playing this again any time soon.

If there's one thing this game gets right it's the right inspiration and atmosphere. The game is comically lovecraftian making it almost stereotypical, but it works. You got a private detective who's plagued by visions who then travels to a strange American town where even stranger things are happening. You got mad cults worshiping maddening horrors and you get to explore ancient temples dedicated to unknown gods, all that good stuff. The city of Oakmont is pretty in the dilapidated, water damaged and monster infested way and is a joy to traverse and explore.

The quests, or cases as they're called in this game are pretty fun and well thought out. You are a private detective after all so you go around looking for clues, finding missing people and solving mysteries. The game doesn't hold your hand at all and you have to figure out your own way. Sometimes I had to look up what to do because there are some confusing and cryptic things in the game. Especially when you have to go research at a library, or the archives of a newspaper.

The combat isn't much to write home about. It's serviceable. You got several different types of guns that you acquire as you go through the main cases and you can thrown grenades and plop down some traps. Monster variety is disappointingly low though, and you'll be fighting the same 5 monsters throughout the entire game. There are a couple rudimentary boss fights there to spice things up, but the questing and mystery solving is obviously the games main draw.

But the game does fail in some departments and has some strange design decisions. For one, at the start of the game they state that normal money has lost its use in Oakmont, so they deal in bullets. You don't actually get to buy anything as there are no merchants in the game. The oddest thing of all, there's a limit to how many bullets you can carry. The game might seem like you have to save your resources, but you'll never run out of bullets because the game showers you with crafting materials. You also get bullets as a reward from cases, but if you're at max capacity you actually get no rewards at all from a case, which is such a weird decision.

The city of Oakmont is very limited. Despite being a city there are only a few points of interest and very few buildings can actually be entered. Most buildings are static and most doors are locked. You usually have to run large distances to get to anything interesting, and chasing after clues in a case can lead to lengthy runs around the town. There are a lot of braindead NPC's around as well, who don't really serve a purpose other than keep repeatedly walking into lamp post or cower on top a trash can.

You'll also notice a lot of repeating assets and layout. Sometimes I'd walk into a random building and I'd wonder to myself if I've been there before. But I feel like this can be forgiven because the studio that made this game is far from a triple A company and it's actually quite amazing what they achieved by themselves. Despite the repeating assets Oakmont is a very pretty city.

I also dislike how the game calls itself "survival horror". I already talked about the bullets, but you really don't even have to worry about resources. Maybe at the start of the game you feel like every bullet counts, but not far into the game you have more than enough. The madness mechanic was really spooky at the start though, and I feel like our poor detective character starts to lose his marbles a little too easily. True to Lovecraft I guess, but this makes the madness mechanic a little tedious at times. There are a couple genuinely good spooks in the game that caught me off guard, so it does somewhat keep the horror elements going.

So, the Sinking City is a bit of a divisive game. It succeeds in ways that I enjoy, but also fails in some annoying ways. It is obvious though that the developers seemed to care about this game and tried their hardest to make a game true to cosmic horror to the best of their abilities. If you're a lovecraft nut, I do recommend the game. Maybe get it on a sale and remember to play on a gray rainy autumn evening.

[yamayuandadu]

Sorry, I don't know if it has been answered already. But does Inanna/Ishtar use any weapon like a mace, bow and arrow, etc? If yes, could you mention in which myths, she appears using any weapon? Besides weapons, is there any accessory or clothing associated with her?

Regarding Inanna and weapons: Julia M. Asher-Greve in Goddesses in Context makes a case for the most common option in art being two maces held on shoulders (p. 172; there are examples provided), though the iconography could get much weirder, since she quotes an example with a weapon "composed of three maces and two spearheads" (p. 173). Due to time constraints I will not compare this to all myths I am aware of. The most info of this variety comes from Inanna and Ebih which has, in this exact order, a battering ram, a bow, a slingshot, lance, a throwing stick, a shield, a šita (whatever weapon it is, it can have multiple heads), an axe, and a dagger. I do not think there's actually any myth which just neatly corresponds to iconography, now that I think of it. We also have one weapon which is explicitly NOT linked to Inanna - some sort of trident-like spear seems to be an exclusive attribute of Annunitum treated as a separate goddess. Regarding clothing: there's a proposal that in the Uruk period, basically at dawn of recorded history, Inanna's symbol was some sort of headband (see here, p. 397; bar-sig = parsīgu). From later periods there's a lot of evidence for a link to lapis lazuli and carnelian jewelry. Some relevant info is also included in this article. One more thing I remember off the top of my head is that Sippar seals might have a distinct clothing style attested for Aya, Inanna/Ishtar and Annunitum, with one shoulder and breast exposed. Of course you also have the highly detailed description of an outfit in Inanna's Descent. There are also multiple inventories of temple property which list the clothing and accessories belonging to statues, I can think of examples from Lagaba and from Neo-Babylonian Uruk but I only have access to the latter and it's long so I won't post it right now, I'm sorry. This is a general comment but I feel asks I get seriously underestimate the volume of material that exists.

[hakunahistata]

"Remember You Are Dust"???

Sounds like something both @gaiaseyes451 and I would be interested in! 👀

Thank you for the ask, kj! I actually really hope I can wrangle this into something that sees the light of day eventually. It's a weirder one for sure but has been super fun to explore.

The background for this one is that Lucifer has conducted an experiment to "gift" a human with the antithesis of divine sight and see what that does to them. Cue poor human!Crowley who was born with infernal sight (I don't have a cool term for it yet).

TL;DR Crowley's been able to see hellish creatures since he was a child and, y'know, that's scary as fuck. One night, it's a lot for a lil guy and he prays hard enough that Aziraphale hears him.

Snippet from their first meeting after Aziraphale has banished a demon from the corner of his bedroom with a "go on, shoo!" **

“Who are you?”

Aziraphale turned towards the small voice. The little boy was sat up in bed, eyes wide as saucers, and clutching a tattered bear in both of his hands. He was small, no more than five human years Aziraphale guessed though he’d never been very good at estimating human ages. Regardless, he was small; small enough for an already tiny blue sleep shirt to be swallowing him whole, small enough to be sleeping with a nightlight in the shape of a rocket. Small enough to not scream in the face of what the little boy must presume as a Trusted Adult. As much as Aziraphale appreciated the respect, he thought it undeserved and misplaced.

“Oh, erm, hello!” Aziraphale said cheerily, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I’m Aziraphale. Terribly sorry to barge in like this. Only…I heard you.”

The little boy’s shoulders hunched and he tried haphazardly to wipe his wet cheeks dry as he curled into himself. “‘m sorry.”

“Oh, dear, it’s not your fault. That was a frightening creature, wasn’t it? Gave me quite a fright, too!”

“It did?” Golden eyes peeked out from behind red, messy fringe, blackened at the ends and at his temples from sweat. Aziraphale’s heart surged uncomfortably. He could still feel the echoes of the prayer, the very real, palpable, breathtaking fear that had coursed through his soul. Yet, here he sat in bed, eyeing Aziraphale with wary hope. Understanding.

“It sure did, my boy.”

[piningpercussionist]

a shadowy figure walks into the corner of your vision. "Apologies for the late response. but.... you are correct, mortal, I am suggesting his stupidity may be of... unearthly origin. Of course, I could be wrong. he may just be particularly pathetic. I know many things. but on the grand scale of things. I'm quite lowly. now... 'Zetans'. as your particular language terms them. are a race of grey skinned extra-terrestrials. advanced far beyond yourselves. they began visiting Earth only relatively recently. (A wise choice, for any writhing thing or wraithful god that could bother them was either sleeping, imprisoned, dead, isolated, incapable of exerting influence, or simply nowhere near Earth by the period in your history which the Zetans began visitation.). as for that Blind Idiot... I refuse to speak anything close to his true Name, for Names have power. all you need to know is that he's asleep. and it is *fortunate* that he is. for if he woke up, all things would no longer be." Doc... shudders?

*Kim startles, quite harshly in fact, at the sudden appearance, whipping around with a hand clutched to her chest. She looks frightened, and confused- but just for a moment, until she's blinking out spots again and turning her eyes back to the ground. She rubs at them, irritated with herself, and still looking a little concerned about something.*

*Whatever it was, she does not voice it, shaking her head before briefly scowling at the floor. (What was that? Get a grip, Kim...) She focuses on his words as she calms herself, though she finds herself lagging a little behind- (Just what the hell is up with me today?) She's still managed to retain what he's said, at least.*

... You're alright, du-Doc... I mean, he is just really pathetic. But... I guess I won't write it off. Weirder shit has happened.

(How loaded are his parents again? I feel like if it's a legitimate "old money" kind of situation, it definitely stays on the list of possibilities... Rich people are always tied up in weird shit.)

*Reaching behind her, Kim picks her mug up off the counter, taking a long sip. When she's done, she holds it in her hands, staring down into it; she warms a hand with it before bringing it to one of her temples to rub soothing, warm circles..*

And wow, that's not super ominous or anything. That's nothing I'd have to worry about ever, right? I don't really think I need a new end of the world scenario to be concerned about right now; especially if it happens just because some dude happens to wake up.

(ooc: going to include it in the text of the post: this ask is again being answered as though an event yet to happen has happened, so there is a deliberate vagueness being used in parts of this response. I can elaborate on what happened here when the event has occurred, if desired!)

[crystalflygeo]

“…. that’s weird.”

meirin stared at the sigil of permission clutched in her hands, before looking up at the clear sky outside the window, as if it would yield the answer she was looking for.

is it because i have to be closer to liyue? no, she said she should be able to hear me from basically anywhere…

her hands straightened the talisman before closing her eyes. the smell of incense burning in the small censer wafted in the air, calming and sharpening one’s focus in their prayers.

“can you hear me? spring bringer, the doe of the geo archon’s eyes. the dream walker, the one who travels through dreams… my dear friend, this humble mortal requests for your aid.”

…

…

silence.

is she busy? no… even if she is, she would usually give me a sign—

CRASH!

the woman jolted, knees bumping hard against the table and sending the gold-lined censer toppling over. cursing under her breath, she straightened the item before limping a tad towards the direction of the kitchen, her knees throbbing from the impact caused by her reflexes.

“haitham, you okay??”

arriving at the scene, she saw the remnants of broken glass and coffee spilled all over the wooden floor. she stared in both worry and amusement at the way her lover glared at the cupholder in his hand, which clearly had failed its job in holding the now-shattered cup.

normally, she would be in a teasing mood, seeing the man so sulky without his coffee, but this time, dread settled at the bottom of her stomach.

what a bad omen, her mother would usually say in situation like these. by no means the young woman was a superstitious person — but this, coupled with how her friend wasn’t answering…

“babe.”

she received an irate grumble as the man stepped back from the mess to fetch the trash bin, “no, there’s no coffee left. i’ll have to brew you a new one.”

“that’s not it. let’s go to liyue.”

“….. provide a reasonable reason for me to write on my day off request.”

“you’re smarter than me. use your brain,” the woman tapped her index finger on her temple, grinning a little when he narrowed his eyes at her at the gesture she copied from him effortlessly, “anyway. liyue, tomorrow. get packing. we’re visiting my friend.”

i just hope she’s okay…

It must have made for an interesting sight, a handsome young man dressed in traditional Inazuman clothes, katana at his hip, walking side by side with a deer almost his size, with fur a soft brown, white and gold.

Together they trekked along Byakko plains, crossing streams and climbing small rocky hills, occasionally chatting but focusing on their goal of reaching Ritou. Foxes were common in the area and they stared at Crys with a mix of confusion and predatorial glee. It unnerved her a little, but mostly insulted her.

Crys had obviously not had a pleasant sleep but still felt well-rested enough from her previous time unconscious, if anything she was feeling rather restless and anxious, wracking her brain for answers to questions that seemed weirder and weirder still.

They rounded Konda village, not wanting to attract attention given Crys’… peculiar appearance, but set camp not too far away to eat something. Kazuha managing a quick trip to the village to exchange or buy some ingredients.

“They had some grain and um… vegetables? Not sure what you’d prefer.” He tells her rummaging a little bag, placing down a couple of small bowls as well.

She peeked at him. “What is that? Oh, more fried fish? Smells delicious, I love seafood!”

Kazuha blinked at her. He supposed it made sense, she’s no common deer...

They settle for lunch under a small low tree and thick shrubs, shielding them from the sun and from any traveler’s gaze. “So, you eat meat?” He asks. “Forgive me for assuming but I thought…”

“Don’t worry, I… actually do hehe. Though of course I wouldn’t touch venison.” She shivers.

“Venison?”

“Deer meat.”

“Ah.”

Her ears droop. “Mn, once when I was in Fontaine for some business dinner, we got served that since the staff hadn’t been announced beforehand. I was horrified and-”

She stops. Her new little teardrop pendant glows.

Kazuha stares at her. “Something wrong?”

“I remembered that… but then I… forgot.” She frowns. “His name… someone important was there with me. He…h-he’s…” Her voice breaks a little, the ever-present echo dimming down to a soft voice. The varunada lazurite dims just as well.

“It’s okay, take it easy, you remembered something at least. Little by little they’ll come to you, I’m sure.”

Crys shifts her eyes away, a little sad.

Kazuha does not like seeing her dejected demeanor.

He tidies things up a little and rests against the tree, pulling out a leaf, analyzing and folding it with precision before taking it to his lips.

And as he blows, a soft tune flows.

Crys stares at him for a moment and relaxes. Her eyes close and she breathes slow and calm. Maybe he’s right. Let the answers come to you… relax and empty your mind.

Don’t worry.

Everything will be fine.

Your friends, your loved ones, those important to you…

...

.......

...

The █ne who t█avels th█ou█h dream█…

My de█r frie█d…

Can you hear me?

Spring Bringer.

Once again, she breaks out of her trance with a startle “Spring Bringer!” She exclaims.

“Oh?” Kazuha stares at her. “What is-”

“That’s my name! That’s one of my names! Kazuha you were right!” She skips happily, rearing on her back hooves as if jumping for joy. “That is my adeptus name, it was bestowed upon me millennia ago.”

“It’s a beautiful name, very fitting.” Kazuha smiles softly, genuinely glad and happy for her.

“I am Spring Bringer! And I will make my master proud!”

"Loyalty and resilience... those are your marks, my dear Spring Bringer. You make us all proud."

“I-I cleared my mind and… and a friend was calling for me.” She calms down, panting. “She’s worried… oh no they're all worried for me...”

“Well I’d say we’re one step closer… both figuratively and literally, we can reach Ritou in a few hours if you’re up to it.”

“Yes! Let’s go!”

How strange….

It’s like I feel my powers returning, my memories…

As if part of me was back in place, fitting like a puzzle piece.

But there are still more questions…

A story woven in the breeze The doe skips, her name sings As told by the tune of leaves

@i23kazu ebg Jan 19-26

[princess-schez]

Fic: Sweet Dreams, Beautiful Nightmare - Chapter 6

Warnings: Language and a hands-y, horny demon Genre: Bill Cipher/Reader fanfic Summary: The Reader has been plagued by violent nightmares for as long as she can remember. Deciding to move to Oregon for a simpler pace of life, it is there she meets the dream demon himself and begins to unravel a mystery connecting them both. Notes: This chapter's rating: 🌶🌶 The lusting has begun... *cues dramatic music* Fic under cut below.

Chapter 6. “Oh. My. God,” Mabel gasped, looking over at you, her pupils large from excitement. She was wriggling in her seat. “I think Bill has a crush on you!” You looked at the young girl, words failing you over this revelation. But, then again, they failed you since you got up this weird morning, so you just swallowed down the lump in your throat, it being the only logical thing you could do right now. A triangle had a thing for you. You weren’t sure what to make of that. A triangle. Maybe you should have been better at math because the equations didn’t add up. “Don’t—don’t even go there, Mabel,” Dipper said, slightly disgusted. “Remember, Bill was the one who had you trapped in that pocket universe.” Mabel wasn’t even listening to her brother by this point; instead, she was lost in her matchmaking mind. Then, finally, you snapped out of your haze to look at Dipper. “What do you mean by pocket universe?” “Um, last summer, Bill Cipher started this thing called Weirdmageddon, and he imprisoned Mabel in this universe called ‘Mabel-land’ that I had to free her from.” You just blankly stared at the boy. “W-weirdmageddon?” “Yeah, that was like the apocalypse, but... weirder, hence the name,” the boy shrugged. “We thought we had destroyed Bill by trapping him in Grunkle Stan’s mind and having him defeat him in the mindscape, but that didn’t work.” “And now the little shit is back,” Stan grumbled, rubbing his temples. You chuckled in spite of yourself, feeling like the crazy was rubbing off on you. You decided to roll with it for the time being as you rubbed your forehead, trying to process this revelation. “So this triangle tried to destroy the world and—” “—Just Gravity Falls. He couldn’t take it globally because the town’s natural magnetism attracting weirdness created a barrier and prevented him from taking Weirdmageddon worldwide,” Ford corrected, as though this explanation was the simplest thing ever. “—and now he’s back and has a thing for me.” You looked around the table in case you missed any crucial details anyone wanted to chip in. Nobody said anything. “I think I’m going to... lay back down for a bit.” Then, excusing yourself from the table, you went upstairs to your room, plopped down on your bed, and pulled the blanket up to your face, almost covering it to block out the world around you. Sunlight poured in through the bedroom windows, the freakish storm almost forgotten, like a bad dream. How quickly it changed, and how peaceful it seemed as birds chirped outside. Your mind wandered over the events of the last hour or so as your eyelids got heavy. And from somewhere, a faint melody lulled you to sleep… Oh, I know we’ll meet again some sunny day… ∆∆∆∆ “Hey, beautiful.” You looked around for the source of the voice but found nothing but the same bedroom you had fallen asleep in, yet everything about it was in shades of gray. Turning again, you found Bill Cipher sitting on the edge of your bed, looking as smug as possible for a triangle to be before he floated up off the bed over to you and reached for your hand. You watched as he left a trail of kisses—and a few licks—up your arm before you pulled it away. “Ew. What do you want?” you asked. “You, of course.” You chuckled darkly, noting the balls—did he have balls?—this thing had. “Sure,” you said. “Not happening.” “No, seriously. And cut the sarcasm; that’s my thing.” “What do you want?” “You don’t remember, do you?” “If I did, I wouldn’t be asking.” Bill Cipher looked thoughtful momentarily, placing one of his fingers to his eye, which turned into a mouth briefly as though in deep thought. After a moment, the thing floated closer to you, getting a little too close for your liking as he hovered mere inches from your face. You stepped back as you stared into his eye, your lips parting into an “oh,” wondering if he was planning on kissing you before he snapped his fingers. Then, the scenery changed, fading to black before something else entirely came into view. You were in an unfamiliar room altogether from the one you had been in, but this one was much darker, as large, inky shadows played upon the wall, lighted by the roaring fire of the fireplace. Your eyes traveled around the unfamiliar space, noticing flickering candles placed throughout, giving the room an almost darkish, romantic appeal… Then you turned around and stopped in your tracks. Oh. Shit. Your mouth went dry as you took in the large bed covered in black silk sheets, where Bill Cipher was lying on his side in the middle, his tiny legs spread as he patted an empty spot on the bed next to him, his eyebrow wagging suggestively. You weren’t always one to be lost for words, but here you were. Again. “You’re intrigued, admit it,” he said. “I can show you lots of things.... I’ll even be gentle our first time.” “What?” was the only thing you managed to spit out. “It has been a while since your last... date if you call meeting up for coffee a date.” He floated up toward you again, obviously not knowing what personal space was, as he drew close to your face again, and you had a strong feeling that he wanted to kiss you. A warmth spread across your face. “H—how’d you—” The demon snapped his fingers again, and you were back in the room at the Mystery Shack. Bill outreached his hands, placing them on your shoulders before slowly, almost caressing, you before he held your face as a lover would. “I know everything that goes on in that pretty head of yours.” You didn’t know why, but there was another little feeling nagging at you, something you almost wanted to trust about him. Maybe he could sense your hesitation because he looked almost... hopeful, for a brief second... before you turned away, breaking the moment. And the fact you were so bashful right now seemed to spur him on. “Maybe this will help you remember...” And before you could react, his eye-turned-mouth was kissing you full on the lips. You didn’t pull away as the whole feeling felt strangely... natural. So normal. The softness of his lips felt so comforting. A familiarity of unknown origin washed over you that disturbed you more than the fact you were kissing a triangle. Images burst forth in your mind. Blurry shapes you couldn’t discern, along with feelings and emotions washing over you: Fear. Lust. Joy. The dream within a dream ended as your nightmares usually did: with a burst of fire and screaming... and it took you a second to remember what you were doing, and that was making out with Bill Cipher, apparent horny triangle. Almost lost in the dizzying reality you found yourself in, you almost didn’t feel as his tiny hands traveled down your body... almost. Then, reverently, Bill’s hands slid down your waist and hips, each bit of you he touched spurring him on as he squeezed them before grabbing at your ass. You pulled away from him as his mouth turned back into an eye. He looked almost puzzled as you slapped him. Hard. Across whatever it was that was his face. And you gasped in pain, your hand feeling like it just hit solid metal. “Damn it,” you mumbled, holding your injured hand. His eye curved for a brief second. “I love it when you’re feisty. So sexy,” he drawled before he snapped his fingers again, and you awoke with a start, back in the safety and warmth of your bed. Having thought it was just a nightmare—a rather vivid nightmare—a chilly feeling settled over you as you noticed your hand had a red mark from where you slapped him. Those aren’t simply nightmares, replayed Bill’s voice repeatedly in your head. ____ Chapter 5 / Chapter 7 AO3 / Wattpad

[inklingofadream]

Ink's 2022 Fic

It’s that time of year again! …. Almost a month late, because I was doing family stuff and also my brain and body strive every moment to defeat me. It’s time for a new pinned post listing out every single fic I published in 2022, for your reading (or rereading) enjoyment. To the followers who joined me in 2022, welcome!

According to my AO3 Stats, I posted 81,996 words of fic last year. That’s a 29% increase from last year. What the hell! It was spread over 22 distinct works. 

This post lists out everything I wrote, with descriptions that are somewhere between synopsis, liner notes, and sometimes an excerpt. Most of what I wrote was for TMA, but since that’s my most popular stuff I’m listing it last/under the cut. Wordcount and relationships (romantic or platonic, healthy or not) are listed, but check the AO3 tags, warnings, and notes, as I won’t be including the content warnings here. 

Star Trek: Lower Decks

Midnight Outing- 1.9k, complete, Boimler/Mariner/Jennifer; So this was one of my mutual gift fics last Christmas, and I actually ended up watching the entire series specifically to write it because it was what Ash was super into at the time lol. When ST:LD was announced I thought it was a lame idea (mostly because I’m immensely picky about animation art styles, I’ve dismissed… a lot… of shows because I didn’t love the art and ended up watching for one reason or another and been proven wrong). It was fun to watch, though! Though in a vacuum I would NOT have watched as fast as I did, the whole series in like a day and a half.

Malevolent

it seems a tiny miracle- 12.4k, WIP, Arthur & Faroe; finally, all my Shirley Temple knowledge comes in handy! Seriously, though, I’ve been so pleased with the reaction to this fic- I’ve been secretly observing every chance I get to see my baby cousins/run kids arts and crafts/etc to use for my characterization of Faroe and Little Archive!Jon.

The Locked Tomb

Ortus the Ninth- 1.3k, complete; Honestly I was SHOCKED that no one did this concept before. I know Ortus isn’t the most exciting character, but I feel like him being in the same position as the girls but even weirder, because he REMEMBERS what it was like to have peers and now he doesn’t even have one same-age archnemesis like Gideon and Harrow do has SO much weird depth to explore. Go read this, I had to hash out the meter in the Noniad to write it and it was a PAIN

The Magnus Archives

Jon and Gerry’s Fairy Tale- 7.3k, complete, Jon & Eric Delano, Gerry & Eric; This fic is an au of nature has taught her creatures to hate, but like… probably you could read it without if you’re just real hard up for dad!Eric fics. Or bb!Jon fics. This is probably my favorite of the fics I wrote various mutuals for Christmas last year, because I love bb!Jon and I especially love when he goes through a lot and comes out being brave and adorable.

your head caught flame (kissed your scalp, caressed your brain)- 2.3k, complete; Ah, the bad ending au to the cult au…. Had to have something to balance out the birdverse good(ish) ending au! Writing Desolation stuff isn’t my forte, but it was a fun experiment.

Dishonor- 4.3k, complete; Alternate POV for sutton’s lovely Stag Story. Writing Elias getting his karmic just deserts is always delicious.

Favor for a Friend- 1k, complete, Daisy & Jon; This was probably my fastest turnaround ever from “idea I had because I was half-conscious trying to fall asleep” to completed fic ever. Hopefully I captured the chills the idea gave me when I had it, idk.

A Different Archive- 1.4k, complete; I’m really proud of this one. It was for the TMA Minor Character Exchange and the prompts I got to fill were for characters I wasn’t really into, but the epistolary idea got me really excited for it when I came up with it. I do still have a half-finished Mike Crew character study I started first floating around my drafts, though.

Your Heart into my Chest- 9k, complete, onesided Martin/Jon; My other fastest turnaround, I was so obsessed with Sutton’s vampire februwhump fic that I HAD to expound on it and give Jon a little rescue. My favorite bit of lore that hasn’t really been picked up much, either in comments or sutton’s later additions, is that I was careful to imply that Martin’s father and the vampire who sires him are the same person. I never decided whether he was a vampire when he met Martin’s mother, how consensual their relationship started out… but if he was a vampire when Martin was conceived then that DOES make Martin his universe’s Renesmee. You’re welcome, I guess!

The Archivist and the Adventurer- 9 works, 24k, complete, Jon/Martin; I FINISHED MY FAE AU THIS YEAR! It took AGES, but I finally brought the whole story to the end! This is the thing I’m proudest of finishing this year.

and now i am a cereal girl- 2.5k, complete, Jon & Martin; My favorite thing about this fic is that it gave me a chance to mine my favorite song from when I was 3 for fic titles :)

10 In the Bed- fanart, complete; This is on AO3 mainly because it’s the only birdverse thing I uploaded this year :( I have 2 different drafts! Hopefully at least one comes out this year!

sitting pretty on the throne, nothing more i want (except to be alone)- 113k, WIP, Beholding/Jon; the origin point for the aforementioned birdverse! Honestly, that’s probably my favorite thing to come out of the little ol’ cult au this year- most of my favorite scenes either happened in 2021 or are yet to come! Stealing Dracula’s cowboy was fun, but as a writer it just can’t compete to the whump I got to do before or the reunions yet to come! I was really happy with the little farewell to Tim and Danny, though 

Dreams and Recovery- 3.9k, complete; Sutton’s The Mage of the Castle and the Mage of the Cavern has been bouncing around the inside of my skull since it was published. I have wayyyy more that I’d like to potentially do in that verse, but I was happy to finish this. The little bits of worldbuilding are a ball to fiddle with Also has one of my favorite sentences I wrote this year

Good things do not happen to Jonathan Sims anymore, but for a frozen, quavering moment he's suspended in the hope that Jonah will be there to smooth the worried creases from his brow and kiss him the rest of the way to wakefulness.

Little Archive-45.9k, WIP, Jon & Beholding; Baby Jon!!! And his best friends gerry and the eye. This might be the year i make myself my own little little archive jon + eye plush doll. I think about him all the time

Beneath the Stains of Time- 41k, WIP, Jon & Daisy; Just edging Jon up through every conceivable age group. In the coming year, teen!Jon is going to get to Go To School! He’s gonna have… well, not friends. He’s not very good at socializing. But peers! And escape attempts! And if we’re very lucky, we’ll reach the point in the flashback where he resigns himself to living with Daisy and the point in the present day where Martin realizes something is Very Wrong

in his hand the fire of Jove- 15k, WIP, Jon/Martin; This fic is like… 80% inspired by that scene in Peter Pan where Captain Hook traps Tinkerbell in the empty lantern. Jon is tinkerbell in this analogy. It’s been on a longer-than-planned hiatus bc of life/brain things, but it’ll be back soon!