#weirdmaggedon was just a ritual for the eye

[tiresomespaceplant]

I LOVE YOUR TMA AND GRAVITY FALLS CROSSOVER DRAWINGD SO MUCH I WANT TO EXPLODE

YEAAAHH IM SO GLAD!! IM SLOWLY LURING OUT THE GF AND TMA FANS 🤝

[that-crow-kid]

things that exist in the same universe and at the same time

The Magnus Archives

Gravity Falls

Welcome to Night Vale

now, you might be asking: crow, why do these three separate pieces of fiction media that are all beloved by queer youth have in common? other than that, of course. well, buckle your seat belts, buckaroos, because this is a wild ride. TMA S5 spoilers?

so the magnus archives has shown us that there are people and places wherein certain fears are prominent, such as locations gearing up for a ritual and avatars. it is solidified in my mind that Bill Cipher is a manifestation of the spiral, similarly to the Distortion but, you know, different. Bill’s not an avatar - he’s the closest thing we get to the actual entity. when Stanford Pines makes a deal with Bill, Stanford is essentially signing on to be an avatar of the spiral in exchange for knowledge. you might be thinking that Ford should be aligned with the eye, but look at it as his thirst for knowledge leading him down paths that shouldn’t be walked down and decent into madness through that knowledge. him being an avatar of the spiral also makes sense in reference to Old Man McGucket and what happened to him. I don’t think Stanley Pines is an avatar - he’s a person who Ford almost led down a path of madness. The entirety of Gravity Falls was a moderately powerful spiral domain. I think there was also a lot of influence of other entities within Gravity Falls - the weird memory-erasing cult were the dark, that candy monster on halloween was the stranger and the extinction, the anti-teen convenience store ghosts were the slaughter and the end, etc, but the majority of Gravity Falls was centered around the spiral.

this brings me to my next point. weirdmaggedon. in my mind, weirdmaggedon Gravity Falls is a TMA fearpocalypse domain in the interception of the spiral and the extinction. It makes sense - the overall weirdness & insanity of it all, the constant fear that Bill would get out and it would be all their fault, everything fits so perfectly. 

so where does WTNV fit into this conspiracy-board level theory? It’s also a fearpocalypse domain. you heard me! if you’re asking, “but WTNV has been going on for years, and weirdmaggedon lasted 3ish days! how does that work?” well, first of all, time is fake in general, so I don’t care. second, time is canonically fake during the fearpocalypse, so it doesn’t matter. Night Vale is actually just the US, fearpocalypse style. That’s why Cecil, an obvious avatar of the eye, sits in his office presiding over Night Vale, which seems to have every avatar in it in an alternating rotation so that the entirety of the United States compressed into tiny town night vale can get their dose of extreme fear. It makes sense - if you tried hard enough, you can pick out something in Night Vale for every entity. 

This is a pretty weird hill for me to die on, but I will, so here we are.

[definingbillcipher]

Hello, I hope you are doing well. I know you have moved on to other Fandoms and more than likely will not update dbc (which is perfectly fine). Would it be possible that you spoil what you had planned for the last 9chs? I've been a fan of dbc since 2016, and it is honestly one of the best works I've read. Even though I've moved on in my life from Fanfiction, this is the one work I cant seem to let go (1)

Wow, thank you so much for sending me this message, it means so much to me. I’ve been wanting to make a post about DBC for ages, but it’s hard admitting you’re giving up on something to the people who’ve been supporting you for so long, even if you know they’d be understanding. As hard as that is, though, it isn’t right of me to ghost you guys, and I’m sorry for putting this off for so long. You guys deserve better. I’d be happy to share the outline of the remaining chapters with you, and I thank you for giving me this opportunity

So! The remainder of the story was going to focus on Dipper and Bill and their burgeoning romantic relationship. Dipper realized when he was at the convention that he was missing Bill in a “more than best friends” kind of way, and that all comes to a head. One of the chapters was going to be them going on a treasure hunt using the map Bill gave to Dipper for his birthday, and that was going to be their first date. The conflict would be Bill trying to rush the sexual aspect of their relationship, eager to experiment, but Dipper would set down some boundaries and they’d have a good talk about all that. Fun fact; this was the second “prophecy” from the possessed psychic in chapter 7, “You will go seeking in the woods, but will not be sought.” Calling out Bill's relationship troubles half a year in advance, ouch.

Eventually, Mabel would sit the boys down and say she wants to go back to California and go to school for an art degree. We tried to sprinkle this through the fic, but for the most part, Mabel’s felt she’s been missing out on a sociable school experience and networking opportunities, as the only reason she went with Dipper to the Mystery Shack was because she was afraid of them being separated. We had a good few chapters dedicated to this big “haunted museum Halloween arc” bit with Mabel and Bill while Dipper was still at the convention, and it picked at a lot of her insecurities (namely those flared by Mirror Mabel), and she decides she wants to give her career a proper shot.

Bill is reeling, as Mabel leaving would be the biggest, permanent change he’d experienced since getting his body. There’s a bit here where he has an amiable chat with the Mirror Bill through the mirror in the woods, and finds out the Mirror Twins are back with Mirror Stan and seem to have turned a new leaf. Call backs!

As Bill’s working through everything, with Dipper’s help, he has a dream. At first, it’s about anxieties of what the future holds. But then it changes. Bill’s been found by Her. She gives him a warning, that it’s only a matter of time before she finds his body. Bill wakes up, and he’s distraught. He’s been caught.

Her; or more properly, the Collection, is an eldritch horror who’s obsessed with gathering unique baubles from across dimensions. The more unique, the better. Back when Bill was still in his own dimension, he approached the Collection and said he’d work for her, gathering her objects of interest, in exchange for power. What objects of interest, exactly? Souls! “Great” souls, to be more specific. Bill had a great knack for finding them, and would hop from dimension to dimension and take the souls of people that would someday enact great change, but only before they did so. These were the Collection’s favorite trophies, and Bill was very good about delivering them. Until, one time, he tried to break out on his own. If he could get his pet project off the ground, Weirdmaggedon, then he’d be beyond the Collection’s influence. However, the Collection found him out, and put a stop to it. This is why in DBC, there’s the canon divergence of Bill never appearing again after Sock Opera.

The Collection was furious, and Bill felt it was only a matter of time before she punished him properly, thus he sought out the Pine twins for refuge. But there’s a catch as to why he sought out the twins. One of them was a great soul, and he was hoping if worse came to worst, he could offer one of them up to the Collection as a bargain in the event that she found him.

Present day, however, Bill pretty much accepts that he’s done for. The Collection is going to pluck him up eventually and that’ll be the end of it, soe tries to enjoy the unknown amount of time he has left. One chapter was going to be the Thanksgiving party with everyone coming by; Stan, Ford, Pacifica, Wendy, Dipper and Mabel’s parents, and all the interactions around that. Pacifica and Bill bicker affectionately (these two were really my favorite part of writing DBC) and Ford would discover that Dipper and Bill would be dating, and we’d deal with the drama of all that. Warm and funny and wholesome all around, though the calm before the storm.

So it’s properly winter now, and Bill and Mabel are chopping fire wood. Bill’s showing off how much better he’s gotten at it when the spectral form of the Collection appears. She takes Mabel, who’s revealed to be the great soul, and leaves. She could have taken Bill, but she chose not to probably due to sheer lack of interest, which must mean that Bill is off the hook. Bill is horrified.

He tells Dipper what happened and his whole history with the Collection. Dipper is furious that Bill had been lying to them this whole time and that he had always intended on throwing them into danger. Bill has no excuse, but says he’s still going to try and rescue Mabel. He doesn’t know how, but he needs to try something. They perform a ritual and enter the Collection’s domain together.

Bill offers up his journals and himself. The idea is, is that the Collection prizes unique things, and Bill argues that the journals are an account of an eldritch horror forgetting themselves and finding humanity, and that there’s nothing else like that anywhere. The Collection accepts his offer and takes his journals (his last remaining memory of his past self) and the last piece of his old soul, taking with it the last of his power. This is signified by his now having two eyes. Bill is now entirely human. (The third of the possessed psychic’s prophecy: “You will see the end of your troubles, but you will not make it out in one piece.)

There would be an epilogue a few months later and they’d be celebrating Bill’s first birthday. Bill’s memory of his past self had almost been completely erased; he just knows that it happened vaguely as a fact. He’s still working to repair his relationship with the twins and living with Dipper at the Shack. He looks forward to the remainder of his life.

The end!

[flying-guinea-pig]

Season Finale (8/8)

Aaaaaaaand it’s done! Hope I didn’t miss too many typos...

AO3 link

The previous parts

Chapter 8: Aftermath

Elisabeth stared through the window, a thick blanket wrapped around her. Her wrist pulsed with pain. It was swollen and blue, every movement agony, and it probably would’ve been smart to go with the ambulance and have it looked at…

No. Her bruises and broken wrist could wait. There were more important things.

She had taken the offered painkillers though.

Outside, the sounds of the ambulance slowly faded away, taking Francesca with them.

At least they hadn’t lost their entire camera crew. Katya had been lucky – the ghosts had chased her away, scaring her off enough to flee back to the boat before everything went to hell. Odds were she’d still get fired for it, knowing Tenney, but at least she lived.

It had only been what, an hour, since Alcor had tessered them all to the shore? It felt like a lifetime.

She didn’t know what to think.

What to say.

She needed more time… but time was in short supply, wasn’t it? If she waited too long… she’d lose this chance.

A faint movement in the air, and there he was.

Alcor hovered behind her. Not literally, this time. His feet had succumbed to gravity, his hair dark and the freckles faded until he looked like regular Tyrone Evergreen again. He was oddly silent.

She looked at his reflection in the window. On  the other side of the glass there was only the deep,  cold darkness of the ocean on a moonless night.

She knew his Name.

She could do... anything. She knew the tricks and rituals to bind him, to command him, to enslave him. Most needed preparation, but not all. She could order him to make a deal with her, right here and now, his Name hot on her tongue, and he would have no choice but to comply. Oh, he'd fight. And demons always won, in the end. He would escape the bindings, slip his chains.

But not immediately. Maybe, if she was clever, not even as long as she lived. What was one human lifetime for an immortal being, after all?

She could make the deal of her life right now. Forget being careful, she had Alcor the Dreambender on a leash if she only said the word.

It was such an ordinary name too. Very... familiar.

The famous Pines Library. Their unexplained connections to Alcor. She'd never had much interest in Transcendence-era demonology - primitive as it was - but she'd read up on Alcor. And she'd read up on the man who, according to some theories, had bound him into eternal service to the Pines family, giving his own life as payment. It was an impressive story, after all. No one else had managed to make such a amazing deal. A deal that -ha!- transcends generations. To be fair, Alcor had been much, much weaker in those days. There hadn't even been any signs he'd existed pre-Transcendence.

She could imagine it now. How a deal to save an unborn child was twisted into a demon being born in a physical body. No wonder Alcor was so powerful. He didn’t have the limits the other demons had, since his ties to the physical realm were stronger than mere possession. He’d been born here.

How desperate would you have to be, she wondered? How desperate had that mother been, letting a demon spawn inside her own flesh and blood? A demon young enough to have no True Name until she'd given him one. In return for eternal protection, maybe, but still...

Alcor’s sigh broke the tense silence between them. He sounded resigned. “You’re drawing the wrong conclusions again, aren’t you?”

She didn’t turn to face him, but his reflection in the window moved closer, until he was standing next to her instead of looming behind her.

“It’s pretty obvious now,” she said flatly. “You managed to possess a child – probably unborn – so strongly his true name became yours.”

“Adams, you know it doesn’t work like that. I was born as Dipper Pines.”

“Yes, that’s what I just –“

“I was born human.”

That… made no sense.

It couldn’t.

Elisabeth took a slow, shaky breath. Now it was Alcor who stared out of the window, refusing to meet her eyes.

“How?”

“Well, when a daddy loves a mommy very much –“

She poked his shoulder. “No evasions. How did you become – this?”

He shrugged, tension clear in every movement. “Through an unlikely and painful series of events. There was this demon – Bill Cipher. He tried to move into the physical realm and take his cronies with him. My family got caught up into his plans. It was nearly the end of the world.” He turned to her with a rueful smile. “In some ways it still was. We could stop Weirdmaggedon. But not entirely. It’s called the Transcendence now.”

“You’re responsible for the Transcendence?”

“Not on purpose!” he protested. “And it’s not entirely my fault. And hey, how many twelve-year olds do you know who saved the world? And then you complain that it wasn’t perfect.”

She stared.

It shouldn’t make this much sense. But… everyone knew Alcor’s name had only popped up after the Transcendence. And he was different from other demons. Not just in power, but in the way he acted sometimes. Case in point, calmly explaining his origins to her instead of trying to kill her before she had the chance to bind him with his True Name.

He’d been human.

He’d been twelve.

Well, that did explain the obsession with icecream.

“Back there, after the portal went dark. Those weird colours. What would have happened if they touched it?” she had to ask.

“Not much, maybe. The Transcendence already happened once. I’m not sure if it would have changed the world all that much.” He paused. “But maybe they’d have turned into a demon like me. That was their plan, at least.”

“Like you,” she repeated.

He looked away. “Yeah. Most demons have a limit on how powerful they can grow. I… don’t. Somehow.”

“Because of Dipper Pines.”

“Yes.”

The silence between them was thick with words unsaid. She wanted to ask so many questions, but…

Well. It was pretty clear what she had to do.

“I want to make a deal,” she said.

A heartbeat. Two.

“Oh,” he said, his shoulders tensing even more. “Right. I should’ve figured.”

“Shut up.” Elisabeth took a deep breath. “I want you to remove all knowledge of your True Name from the rest of the team. Including whichever recordings they have of it.”

“Makes sense.” His voice was bitter. “Why should you share, right? And in return?”

“In return I’ll give you my memories of your True Name as well.”

Ha! It felt good to catch him off-guard, that smug jerk.

“But… you don’t like tampering with your memories.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“You know how powerful my name is. What you could do.”

“Oh, will you let it go?”

A tired smile slowly spread over his face. “Adams, are you telling me you decided to trust me?”

“Maybe I don’t trust myself,” she said, bluntly. “Will you take the deal or not?”

He looked at her for a long moment. Then he nodded and offered his hand. Blue fire bloomed around his fingers.

“My knowledge of your true name, in return for erasing all their knowledge and recordings of the same,” she summarised, as a good demonologist was supposed to do. “That’s the deal.”

“That’s the deal,” he said, and took her left hand carefully in his own.

A glimmer of blue, a blink, and something shifted in her head.

She’d… made a deal. About Alcor’s name? Yes. She’d offered it, freely.

That meant something, she remembered that much.

“Maybe there’s another deal you want to make, now?” he said, and nodded at her right hand. “I could heal that for you.”

Long painful weeks of inconvenience, or instant fix?

“Why not,” she said. Too numb to worry about making frivolous demon deals. “In return… you can have my guilt?”

There was such an awful lot of it, after all.

“How about you give me your nightmares instead,” he offered, gently.

“That works.” She closed her eyes for a moment as they sealed the deal and magic soothed the pounding in her wrist.

God she was tired. With the pain gone, there wasn’t anything distracting her anymore. But ha, sleep was going to be hell, in any case. Even without nightmares. How was she supposed to ever fall asleep again with all these what-if’s haunting the dark behind her eyes?

“So… do you want to talk about it?” he said.

“About what?” she asked. “About how I killed someone?”

“Well… yes.” He hesitated. “I think you should probably talk to a professional about it… but I worry you’re too stubborn to try that.”

“That’s rich, coming from you. Can demons even really feel guilt?”

“I can.”

He used to be human. That she did remember. Not his name, but his story, vague as it was. Why he was so different.

“I’m not going to pretend I understand how you feel,” Alcor said. “I was already… changed, the first time this happened to me. And even then it still shook me up, when I came back to my senses.”

“That’s the thing,” she said. “I didn’t ‘come back to my senses’. I knew what I was doing. I knew something horrible would happen if they got their hands on that thing and I just… acted.”

“That doesn’t make you a bad person,” he said. “You had an impossible choice to make.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” She rubbed her face. The wetness was expected as well, and easily ignored. “Not feeling guilty would make me a bad person, though. So… thank you. For not taking my first offer.”

“Psh. I know that wasn’t a real offer, Adams. You know better.”

Silence stretched between them, lacking the tension of before.

Alcor offered her a paper tissue. She made a face and took it. It was black, with little golden stars.

“Really focused on your branding, aren’t you?” she snorted, and blew her nose. Ugh. She never cried.

It wasn’t the most subtle way to change the subject, but he tactfully didn’t comment.

“So,” she said, when her throat felt less tight. She bunched the tissue between her fingers, then smoothed out the little printed star. “What happens next?”

“Well, I suppose you get some rest, and go home in the morning. I can spare you the crowded flight, if you want. I owe you that much. But first, perhaps… introductions?”

She blinked. “What?”

“Hi,” he said, and shook her hand again – without the fire this time. “I’m Dipper Pines.”

“What?” she sputtered, as the empty spot of knowledge in her head popped full again. “Why tell me this?”

His smile was soft and utterly un-demonic. “Just thought… maybe we should both take a leap of faith.”

Ding!

“Oh, right, that reminds me.” He pulled a phone from somewhere and offered it to her. “Here. For you.”

“I’m wary of demons bearing gifts,” she said, but took the phone. It looked a lot like her old one, but less dented. “What’s the catch?”

“Guess.”

[Hi Liz!] the pixelated Alcor waved at her from the screen. [Just thought I’d interrupt you guys before this became too mushy.]

Elisabeth had to smile. “I think you were too late.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Alcor said.

“I’m glad you’re not dead. Or deactivated, or however it works for you,” she added bluntly. “But how?”

“When the stabilisation spells failed, the containment broke as well,” Alcor said. “But I’ll feel a lot better if the kid stays in range of the internet from now on.”

[You and me both,] the Virus said. [Yikes! Let’s have our next adventure somewhere with a strong wifi signal, alright? Just to be sure.]

She made a face. “I won’t be up to much adventuring for a while, I think.”

Sleep. What time was it even?

“Right,” she said. “Time for you to go. I’m going to fall over if I don’t go to bed now.”

Of course, that was the moment someone loudly knocked on her hotel room door.

“Now what?” Elisabeth groaned, and pulled it open.

A blur of white hair and Tenney moved past her, charging into her room with no more than a: “Good, you’re still awake.”

“Whatever this is, I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow,” she said. “Get out.”

He didn’t appear to hear her. He stalked her room, freezing in his tracks when he spotted Alcor lounging near the window, and then turned to her, his eyes slightly wild.

“I talked to my producers,” he said. “There was some nonsense about shutting down the show, but I managed to turn them around. We have a killer season finale after all. After this airs, our ratings will skyrocket!”

Elisabeth frowned. “People died.”

“Yes, and their deaths won’t be in vain. It’s what they would have wanted.”

“There’s such a thing as too obsessed, you know,” Alcor said. “Two-thirds of your camera crew is gone.”

“More like half,” Tenney said. “Steve still counts. And I’ll have to look it up, but I suspect we’ll be the first show to employ a ghost. That’s free publicity!”

“Congratulations,” Elisabeth said. “Now get out so I can sleep.”

“And just wait until I unveil the new direction the show is going to take!” Tenney bared his teeth in a savage smile. “First show to employ a ghost? Ha! How about ‘first show to employ a demon?’ People wiill talk about this for years!”

Alcor coughed. “Excuse me – what?”

Tenney swirled to face Alcor, and raised one hand imperiously. “I know your true name!”

“Oh, really?” Alcor said, starting to smile. “So… what’s my name then?”

Tenney paused, hand still raised. “I… can’t remember.”

“Too bad,” Alcor said, sunnily.

Tenney glared at the both of them, before taking a deep breath and attempting to calm himself. “No matter. I expected this. Of course you would erase that dangerous knowledge from our memories. That’s why I saved it somewhere you didn’t know about.”

Now how much damage could a self-obsessed television host do with the world’s most powerful demon at his beck and call? Elisabeth caught herself eying her surroundings. No, bad Elisabeth. You can’t bludgeon someone with a flower vase. It’s not heavy enough, for starters.

“My dear, you’ve underestimated me,” Tenney said, with that trademark smarmy grin of his. He theatrically flipped open his phone. “Ah, yes. There it is.”

… wait. His phone?

“Alcor the Dreambender,” Tenney said. “Or should I say… Smebulock! From now on you will obey my every command!”

That… couldn’t be right. She glanced at Alcor. A disbelieving grin full of needle-sharp teeth spread across his face.

“That isn’t –“ Elisabeth started to say, but Alcor shushed her with: “No, no, I want to see where he’s going with this. So, Tenney! What do you want, exactly? You gotta be precise.”

“I want to make the best television show in the world,” Tenney said, still puffed up with self-confidence. “And that cannot fail, with Alcor the Dreambender as a cast member.”

“Wait,” Elisabeth said. “You want him on the show?”

“Yes. And you as well. Even bound, a demon is full of tricks. You need to keep an eye on him.”

“Why the hell would you think I’d want to be part of this?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” Tenney said. “Do you think you’ll have much of a job, after people see how chummy you are with the Dreambender? Not to mention how three people lost their lives to a demon, while under your watch. You were our designated demonologist, weren’t you?”

The temperature in the room seemed to plummet.

She gave him a deadpan look. "Are you seriously trying to blackmail someone who summons demons for a living?"

“Blackmail is such an ugly word,” Tenney said. “I prefer ‘mutual assistence’. You help me out, Lizzie dear, and I’ll make you famous!” He snaked an arm around her shoulders. "You know you want it! Fame! Glory! You could make a fortune!"

She shook off his arm. “No.”

“Are you certain?” Tenney kept smiling, even under the force of Alcor’s glare. “After all… I do know your secret, Ms Adams.”

“Right, pal, that’s enough,” Alcor said. “Time to go.”

“Show some respect, Smebulock,” Tenney said. “You don’t want the world to know she’s Mizar, either.”

“Oh for – I’m not!” Elisabeth exclaimed. “Why do you even think that?”

“Lie all you want. I know the truth.” Tenney tapped his nose with a conspiratory smile. “Welcome to the show. I’ll let you know when we start shooting for season three.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be there,” Alcor said. He returned Tenney’s smile with a dark one of his own. “After all… you know my name.”

Tenney nodded, satified, and left.

“What a smug jerk,” Elisabeth said, and yawned. Sleep. Now. Anyone else who showed up in her hotel room would be acquinted with her remaining can of herbal spray, applied directly to the eyes, consequences be damned.

Alcor laughed. “He has a gift with spirits, though. Oh, this is going to be fun!”

“It wasn’t even the right name!”

“Nope,” he said cheerfully. “I mean, do I look like a Smebulock to you?”

She looked at him. His wide fanged grin and golden eyes stole the show, of course, but underneath…

He’d been twelve, he said. She tried to imagine it, and failed.

“Maybe if you grow a beard,” she said. And growled, because damn Tenney and his threats. “You should have just sent him away.”

“What, snap my fingers and transport him to some random place on earth? That would be a bit mean, wouldn’t it?”

“No, ‘mean’ is putting him in frilly dress and sending him to the gnomes’ Jamvention.”

Alcor grinned. “You have a scary mind sometimes, Adams.”

“Elisabeth,” she corrected him. Freely given. It was only fair, after all.

“Elisabeth,” he said. “Why, I really think you’re warming up to me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever you say, Smebulock. Now get out so I can get some sleep.”

[itsbeenareal--slice]

Inevitable What if’s || Task

What if Meg hadn't made a deal with a Demon to save the one she loved? What if she'd taken just a moment to think things through?

What if's are dangerous and come in many forms. Ones that some think about all the time. Ones that some used to think about but have accepted and moved on from. Ones that consume and drive a person mad or into the pits of despair.

But what if your what if wouldn't change anything? The result of that what was already laid out before you. The Fates had destined it to be. The nature of that fork was only just a longer way to lead you into back into the same road as the other. Streams diverge but those threads, those trickles of water all come back into the same body of water. Life finds a way and death can't be escaped.

Megara Creon was happily engaged to the professor of her dreams. Of course, this fact had alienated her friends and family who thought he wasn't a match for her. She had been popular in college, had plenty of friends and was graduating in the Spring with her degree in Sociology. That popularity slowly became tainted with scandal and her friends didn't like the person she'd become. Her family didn't approve of him either, he was seen as selfish and arrogant. But she was in love, you did crazy things when you were in love right?

One night, her fiancé was working particularly late on his latest project. As a Magick studies professor on the tenure track, he had a lot of important projects that took him late into the night. She thought maybe it would be nice to surprise him.

She, however, was the one who would be surprised, the swirling magic and black smog energy engulfed the room the minute she entered. Sigils and symbols she couldn't make out glowed in the darkness in an eerie light.

And there lay the man she'd risked so much for, the one she loved, breathing in the smog, letting it swirl in a dark cloud through his nostrils and out his mouth as it overtook his entire consciousness before everything stopped and he fell to the ground.

Ooh seems we have a visitor.

A voice echoed through the room, the smog swirled into an amorphous form of a figure with long curved horns.

I guess you could grasp the concept if I turn into this form, right? Humans really only see us as this

Before she could process it, she heard a voice, "Megara…"

Her eyes flashed behind him, "Jason!" She immediately pushed through the smog to the hunched over form of her lover.

"I didn't want this to happen. It all went so wrong."

Would you like to strike a deal to save him? Save this pitiful excuse for a vessel?

[Pause.]

[So here was the thing. Meg in the current timeline, made a deal. Crashed into her feelings. Didn't question why or how someone could summon a demon. Didn't look at all the factors that she'd have to take into account. And Sam taunted her and held that over her head for all eternity. So what if she just, took one breath.]

Megara breathed in and looked between the two of them, "How did this happen? This wasn't the project you said you were working on? Have you been experimenting with demonic magic?"

The man's face instantly looked at her as if she'd insulted him, "What? Oh come on, Meggy, how was I supposed to know that this page translated to power through demon summoning?"

She squinted her eyes, pulling back and standing up, "You lied to me. You set up an entire ritual and somehow managed to summon a demon. This isn't my fault. And I know better than to deal with some kind of demon blob. Is that what this was for? Power? Harnessing magic when you didn't even double check your translation. Some expert you are."

Alright. I see obviously we won't be coming to any kind of deal. I'll be stuck with your worthless husk of a lover until the next best thing comes around. Doesn't mean we can't get a taste though.

Meg's eyes widened and Jason's eyes went black.

---

She awoke, groggy in the middle of the office, books scattered everywhere, alone.

She wouldn't see him again.

She'd graduate from school.

She would live her life and reunite with her family, her friends.

She would go on to earn more degrees and one day, she got an offer to work at Pride U.

A coworker would take her to the Court as a welcoming joke.

She'd meet eyes with the mysterious woman behind the stage and wouldn't think anything of it.

She'd run across that woman from time to time.

She'd never know her story.

----

No one quite knows what happened to Meg but she disappeared during Bill Cipher's reign of Swynlake, he took over and dimensions were opened up. Weirdmaggedon was upon them. She worked hard with a band of rebels underground to keep the people of the down safe. They needed a way to become more powerful. To save everyone, her family. Save the town she'd grown to love.

Sigils and runes lined the floor of the base, a black smog rolling in and obscuring every person's view.

In the midst of the smog, she heard a voice. One she hadn’t heard in a decade.

Megara.