#I don't have any fun tags on these long posts because spend all my energy making them

[tswwwit]

Cult Reincarnation part Three! Here's parts One and Two if you missed 'em.

The followers of Bill Cipher are the most blessed of believers. Strong and devoted, they are empowered to overcome all things, through service to their god.

And in times of trouble, the devout always have something to turn to. 

Dipper bows his head before the golden image, and tries to force his muscles into a semblance of relaxation. 

Worship.

He hopes hating every second of it doesn’t matter. If it works at all. 

Praying to a god, in the domain of said god, should technically speaking be overkill. This kind of thing is supposed to reach through the veil between planes, not just partway across a building. The process has a lot of kick to it. 

That’s the theory, anyway. Dipper’s working with what he’s got - 

But he’s not sure Bill’s all that easy to reach. 

No worshiper has ever called for help and received it. There were excuses, of course. Dozens of them. But brushing them off with a ‘not worthy’ doesn’t work when it’s literally everyone.

Either nobody’s worthy, or no help is provided. From what Dipper’s learned about the god himself, it’s the latter. 

Probably because Bill doesn’t care about most of them. Maybe because he thinks it’s funny. The third guess -  that he thinks helping is boring - is currently leading the pack.

There’s another reason, too. One that’s… technically possible, but Dipper’s trying not to think about it. 

No matter what the cause of it, none of those bode well for Dipper’s plan. That’s on top of the fact that summoning Bill is, by all metrics, an incredibly reckless idea. 

Still, desperate times call for desperate measures. 

Dipper needs a quick way out of an awful situation, and it’s one he got himself into this time.

Focusing on the shape of Bill in the window, Dipper concentrates. Breathing in, then out. 

He snaps his fingers, and the candles bloom with bright blue fire, before settling down to the standard red-yellow glow. Despite everything, he spends a brief second admiring the tiny flames.

The magic comes so easily to him now. Studying mysterious texts found in a hideous nightmare realm is another bad idea, but you can’t argue with results. Whoever gathered the books in the guest room must have -

Another wailing howl rings down the corridor. A distant scrabbling echo, the scrape of claws on stone.

Dipper drops to his knees and scrambles to finish his makeshift setup. Something ninety percent cribbed from the ritual he ‘volunteered’ for, minus all the blood.

Rushing through this isn’t optimal, but hell, none of this is. Dipper’s working on a hope and a literal prayer. Being in the guy’s home instead of a dimension away should amplify the effect. Bill might not be able to ignore him, if he’s loud enough.

When the alternative is being devoured by wandering demons, Dipper’s willing to have a bit of faith. 

Just a smidgen, though. Enough to make this work.

Another chattering sound, though more distant, gives him plenty more panic-induced belief to work with. 

With all the setup done, Dipper claps his hands together. He tries to steady his breathing. The words of the ritual resonate in his mind instead of out loud, which should be good enough considering the god in question.

And he knows Bill, too. Personally, not abstractly. Dipper can hold the image of him in his mind as clearly as if he was standing in the room. The fact that it’s a human shape shouldn’t matter. He’s… ninety five percent certain it won’t.

Now. If he focuses. If he reaches out with sincere effort and desire, pushing with the magic that bubbles inside him - this should work. 

He really, really hopes it works. 

“You rang?”

His heart nearly leaps into his throat. Jerking up right, Dipper whips around towards the voice. 

Where Bill Cipher stands. He’s right behind him and just to his left, as smug and dapper as always. Appearing out of freaking nowhere.

Dipper slumps back down to the floor as Bill wiggles his fingers in greeting.

That’s one hell of a response time. He’d barely gotten started before Bill popped into place.

“Looks like you had a fun little jaunt!” Bill claps his hands together, leaning - but not quite looming - over him. “I wondered where you’d run off to!”

The phrasing makes Dipper wince. That’s not - he hopes Bill didn't really mean that. It would mean he got the wrong idea. 

Dipper didn’t ‘run off’, because he’s not stupid. No matter what other people might have said. 

All he wanted was a cursory look around. Checking out if there were other ‘apartments’, see if there were any windows. Something brief enough to let him get an idea of what kind of place he was dealing with, then heading back to the relative safety of Bill’s place.

Which might be the weirdest part of all. 

That it is safe, for a limited version of the word.

Since being kidnapped, he’s had zero new injuries. Plenty of comfort, reasonable safety, and very little to hide from. Material comforts, not promises that never get realized. Even his room in Bill’s place is the nicest place he’s ever lived, cozy by any definition.

Casting everything aside for the chance at an ‘exit’ is a dumb choice. 

Dipper was doing just fine where he was. No running off anywhere. He’s been perfectly fine with his three little rooms, even if it’s a bit limiting. 

Technically he has access to four, if you include the living room. But that one usually has Bill in it.

Some worshippers would have bled far, far more than Dipper did, for even the briefest chance at access to their god. Getting their messages to him directly, basking in his radiant golden presence, accessing all his mysteries - a dream that they could hope to think about achieving, one day in the future.

And they’d all be disappointed.

Turns out Bill’s both weirder and more crazy than any scripture made it seem. It’s nothing like… anything, really.

Dozens of passionate sermons on Bill’s infinite wrath, crumbling in the face of him being totally, bizarrely chill with everything Dipper’s done so far. Hours of speeches about his unknowable motives, and infinite grandeur, shattered by watching him pontificate on whether he should wear the ‘cool’ socks today, or the ‘ones with little duckies on them’. 

Hell, Dipper watched his god blow up half of a wall by accident and shrug it the hell off - then later get so mad at something on interdimensional television he choked on the gummy bears he was eating.

Years of study has done nothing to prepare Dipper for this, and he was the one looking in forbidden texts. 

It’s. Informative. But also, like, a lot. 

So for the most part, Dipper decided to hole up in the guest room. It’s easier than parsing the god puzzle, and the alone time is nice. 

In the last… few days? More than a week, possibly, he’s had time to read, write notes, take uninterrupted naps, and nothing bad has happened to him. Peace and quiet came at a premium back in the compound. Here, all he has to do is shut a door. 

Still, books only last so long to keep someone occupied. Confinement has always made Dipper kinda stir-crazy. 

And on the one occasion when Bill wasn’t in the living room, well. Curiosity has always driven Dipper into absolutely dumb actions. Including going snooping again. Maybe a tiny bit of peeking into Bill’s bedroom, because the door was unlocked. 

And since that was unlocked, it only made sense to test the knob leading out of Bill’s quarters.

It’s not Dipper’s fault the damn door disappeared the moment he stepped outside.

So really, he didn’t ‘run off’. He wasn’t trying to escape, or even go too far from his room.

He just got bored.

And when that went south, he didn’t have many other options. Turns out the Fearamid is full of demons. He saw that on the way in, but he didn’t truly understand the extent. 

Without Bill escorting him, the concept got hammered in pretty much immediately.

The moment he stepped out, he must have caught the attention of damn near every demon in this godawful place. One young human, basically catnip for monsters. The first one showed up within a minute.

Time is strange here, though. It might have been longer. 

Dipper has been running for what feels like hours. 

“What’s the matter, kid? Trip not as fun as you expected?” Bill gives his shoulder a friendly shake. “Or didja just miss me?”

Dipper shrugs. 

Sure, it’s nice Bill showed up. It’s great that he’s not deadly. But he’s arguably a different kind of problem.

A few tugs on his shirt make him reluctantly stand, turning to face Bill. Despite being summoned in his own home, he’s surprisingly upbeat. 

“Now I’m guessing you called me - and this is just off the top of my head here - that once you got going, you couldn’t find your way back.” Bill sets fists on his hips, eminently amused. “A little lost lamb like you musta freaked out!”

Before Dipper can do more than shrug, something with way too many limbs scuttles around a corner, filling the hallway with a writhing mass. He surges closer to Bill, heart in his throat.

A moment later the creature spots Bill, and freezes in place. Then, lifting each of its limbs like it’s tiptoeing, it backs all the way up and around the corner. Like it opened a door, saw something twice as horrific as itself - and then carefully shut it again, trying to pretend that didn’t happen.

“Do me a favor, though, and put a little less ‘oomph’ into the magic next time.” Bill pushes a pinky into his ear and twists it around, then pulls it out and flicks it clean. “That crap was loud.”

Dipper nods rapidly. Yep, can do. At some point he started clutching Bill’s elbow, but he’s not about to stop. Not here.

With Bill guiding him, the mazelike corridors present no further problems. Even though they do turn around at least three times, and at one point walk on the actual ceiling, Bill keeps going with perfect confidence in his stride. 

There aren't’ any interruptions, either. Compared to mere minutes before, the halls are mysteriously quiet and empty, leaving him and Bill to stroll along, hand on elbow.

When they arrive back at the penthouse, Bill opens the door with a sweep of his arm, and a slight bow that might be mocking - but Dipper’s too tired to be bothered.

So much for the ‘escape’ idea. Running around the Fearamid was nothing but an exercise in terrified frustration.

It would be rational, Dipper knows, to be more upset. But the cult was also a confusing, stupid, terrifying place that held him captive, and back there he could never count on having a hot bath, or privacy, or sleep. 

A few weeks ago he would have said the threat of death back home was lower, but now? He knows which one he’d choose, any day. 

The one confounding factor is Bill himself. 

In the cult, you couldn’t avoid him at all. Always talking about him, if you still were able. Praying to his idols, going to the rituals, chanting and waving your hands like an idiot in the air. Making sure that your every action pleased him. Following all his orders. Every day, some part of your day was spent thinking or acting on his wishes.

Actually being around him every day requires… precisely none of that. He’s so -

‘Different’ would be the wrong word. A being who’s lived for literal eons doesn’t change things up on a dime. 

This is Bill Cipher without any convenient ‘reinterpretations’. 

The priest was wrong about Bill. Everything he said was at best incorrect, and more likely a bunch of self-serving bullshit. Everything they ever did was stupid and wrong. Bill never cared about what they did, or all the prayers they sent or literally any devotional action. And that’s a true, unshakable fact, because the opposite idea - that Dipper’s mere presence changes Bill’s behavior, even one iota - is laughably outrageous.

Another slight shake. Bill, trying to catch his attention again. He’s raised an eyebrow, examining Dipper’s face as he thinks.

Right, Dipper should - uh. Probably just get out of here. Before Bill does something like get annoyed at his ungrateful guest. Or worse, put on the expectant look again.

With a quick nod, and a ‘cute’ smile, he shuffles out from under his arm, and scuttles for the guest room. 

Everything’s just as he left it. The open book. The tidy sheets. The notes he was taking, before he noticed Bill was gone and thought he’d have a tiny look around -

“Haven’t done much redecorating, I see.”

Dipper nearly leaps out of his skin. Shit, what - 

Behind him, Bill hovers at a disrespectful distance. His eye is narrowed, and his expression suggests a man who’s not terribly impressed. 

“A full week shoulda had you settled in way more.” Bill says, shaking his head in… disappointment? He stalks around Dipper casually, glancing around the room. “Hey, you made the bed! That’s rare!”

Dipper’s mouth works, but that’s an old, dumb instinct. He shuts it, and glares. 

Bill wanders around, casually pacing around the small space. A quick check of the bed, yanking out the sheets until they’re messy again - then setting his fists on his hips, looking proud of himself.

Okay. This is new. 

Bill’s been around, but he’s never intruded before. Every time Dipper wasn’t sure how to deal with him, he could retreat back to the guest room and be sure that he’d have some space. Quiet, too, aside from the occasional piano playing, drifting through the door.

Now he’s thinking all of that was a courtesy. 

Obviously Bill can’t be kept out of what is, after all, his place. He’s simply chosen not to intrude until now. 

With supreme confidence, Bill drops onto the bed, tucking his arms behind his head and crossing one leg over the other - yeah. Still his place, and he knows it. He didn’t even take his shoes off. 

“Oh!” A bright grin crosses Bill’s face. He rummages under the pillow for a second. “I take it back - you did make one addition to the decor.” 

With a grin, he brandishes the stupid plush of himself like he was holding up his firstborn child. Because he is, as Dipper learned, a narcissist. 

Ugh, of course he’d find that. Dipper looks away, trying to keep his annoyance off his face. 

“Yeah, yeah, glare all you like, kid.” Bill says, wagging a chiding finger. “You’ve been making yourself scarce, but you can’t avoid me forever! At the very least ya need to get those stitches out in a few days.” A smirk. “Though I’d love to see you manage that yourself.”

Dipper can’t argue with that. He does try to stop glaring, but it’s surprisingly difficult. 

“What?” Bill sits up, setting mini-Bill in his lap. He raises an eyebrow. “Not got anything to say?”

Obviously not. Dipper folds his arms, and tries not to look at - not an interloper, this is Bill’s. He’s the guest. Getting bothered by it is rude at best.

“But no! Silent as the night is long, and orders of magnitude more boring. This whole time, I haven’t heard a peep from you, Pine Tree. And I've been very patient.” Bill sighs, running a hand through his hair. “What gives?”

Like that’s not obvious, either. Dipper pinches his lips together, tight. 

There was a sacrifice. Made in Bill’s name, and for his honor. A devotion bestowed unto him. He can ignore cries for help, but there’s no way Bill didn’t notice that. Just like when he showed at the ritual, or at Dipper’s impromptu summoning. The call would have been too strong. 

No, even stronger. With that much blood spilled, it must have been like a signal beacon.

Bill knows what went on. He just didn’t care. 

And now he’s being an asshole, just because he can.

“It’s especially irritating when you have plenty of avenues to make a statement.” Bill rises from the bed with a sigh, dropping mini-Bill back onto the pillows. “You just haven’t put in the effort!”

Without waiting for a response, he stalks straight past Dipper and over to the desk. He runs his fingers over the surface, caressing the edge of -

Oh, shit, no.

His journal. That he left out, like an idiot, assuming Bill would never, ever come in here to see it-

By now it’s far too late - he must have seen a bit already -  but Dipper hurries over towards him anyway. It’s not like he can shove Bill out of the way, or smack anything out of his hand. The repercussions would - he doesn’t want to think about those; they make him feel so sick.

Bill’s already picked it up, he even turned a page - 

“See? You’re literate, sapling! Reading and writing, both at your command.” He rests the journal against where his heart would theoretically be. “Why haven’t you shown any of it off?”

For a lot of very good reasons. For fuck’s sake. Bill’s already intimated that he knows Dipper doesn’t really believe. But he is arrogant, and powerful. A terrible, awful, confusing god.

He can’t be allowed to read that journal, because gods do not like being called ‘assholes’. Even if it’s true.

Though it’s a dumb move, Dipper makes a grab for the damning evidence. Bill’s too quick though; he misses by a mile.

“Oop!” Bill raises his arm high, looking at Dipper with amusement. “Aww, nice try! So close.” With a wink, he dangles Dipper's own personal, very private notebook over his head. Why does this bastard have to be tall, damn it. “What, you want this?” 

Dipper grits his teeth. No, he was never going to get it back by force, or speed, or even a quick wit. One young human doesn’t stand a chance. 

Desperate times. Desperate measures.

It worked before. It might work now, 

Dipper takes a slow breath, and lets it out. Then he shuts his eyes, and kneels. 

Above him, he hears Bill’s laugh fall silent. Slightly placated, then. A little more should do the trick. 

With a great effort of will, Dipper bows his head, hands pressed together. He can get through this. He can kneel and - kind of sit awkwardly on his foot, he shifts his weight and braces his palm on Bill’s thigh for balance. 

He’s about to start praying when something hits him in the head with a thump. 

Dipper jerks back, hissing through his teeth. He starts rubbing at the spot, head lowered - 

And when he blinks at the floor, a book flops unceremoniously open on the carpet. 

Before Bill can move, Dipper snags the journal that was just dropped on him. Tucking it under his arm for safekeeping, and scooting back on the carpet. 

“Eh, whatever. Go ahead and keep it.” Bill folds his arms, turning away to sit back down on the bed. Weirdly huffy for a guy who was getting worshiped. Maybe Dipper did it wrong. “Besides! I don’t need to skim through some book to know you.”

Welp, that’s ominous. 

Dipper shuffles back over to the desk. He glances over at Bill - looking away, still in his odd sulk - then opens a drawer, drops his journal in, and shuts it with his hip.

Another huff from Bill. By his face he’s not in a great mood, but it doesn’t seem to be actively dangerous.

And he doesn’t make another move for the journal. Even though it’s full of secrets.

That’s one relief. Maybe he considers Dipper’s secrets too boring. Maybe Bill’s not interested in them, beyond using them to antagonize him. 

He’s a god, anyway. A demon slash god slash infinite being of pure energy. All human thought should be totally beneath his notice, just like the fleeting human lives that make up his cult -

But that doesn’t make sense, either. 

Dipper rubs at his eyes. Silently willing any part of this, at any time, to finally come together. 

Because if humans were totally beneath Bill’s notice, why is one of them here? Living in his home, taking up his space, eating his food and breathing his air and getting weird expectant looks. Even for a supernatural being, that’s no small effort.

If it were just about his blood, Dipper could understand that. It wouldn’t be very fun, but he’d get it. 

But it’s not. Because none of it has been spilled since the ritual. Because nothing’s been painful or threatening or - okay, a lot of it’s been weird, but nothing like the scriptures said it would be. All the rules Dipper’s learned simply don’t seem to apply. 

Bill’s supposed to be - 

He’s supposed to be different, is all. 

But hee can hardly blame Bill for that. It’s not his fault people got him wrong, or idealized him, or if he’s super weird - that last part was advertised, extensively. 

There’s a lot of things that a lot of people are ‘supposed’ to be, Dipper guesses. It never really fits them, in the end.

He just doesn’t understand why Bill’s doing this. 

“Don’t think we’re not gonna go over the main pain of the day, either.” Bill gives Dipper a long, annoyed look. “What kinda guy stays at another guy’s place and doesn’t give him so much as a ‘hello’?”

Dipper shrugs, and stuffs his hands in his pockets. He can’t quite meet Bill’s eye. 

Okay, technically Bill’s right. That would be rude, if it weren’t for certain circumstances. 

“And I don’t mean chanting a prayer, either! You got fully functional hands and a brain.” With a frown, Bill stands and approaches. Dipper backs up against the desk, but Bill stops a couple feet away, hands on his hips. “Why not write a thank-you note or something?”

Oh. Well. 

That was always an option. Dipper just didn’t know Bill wanted it. 

And why would he? Bill’s a mental god, a mind reader. Always keeping an eye on him. The idea that he just wants to be ‘talked’ to is…. 

Yeah, another weird thing. Hell, at least Dipper can do that. It might not even be too embarrassing.

Before he can grab a pen and paper off the desk, Bill shoves a whiteboard and marker in his hands. He nearly jumps back, before accepting it with reasonable dignity. Despite having seen it before, Bill manifesting things out of nowhere is remarkably startling.

Now he’s left staring at it. Wondering what he should do.

“Ahem,” Bill clears his throat. “You could start with a, ‘Hi Bill!’ or, ‘You’re amazing, Bill’. Y’know, any kinda standard greeting.” He claps his hands together, grinning wide. “But I’ll give you more points for creativity.”

Dipper glances down at the blank white board, then back up at Bill. He clamps his mouth shut, trying to focus.

That was a joke. Right? He’s, like, 90% the ‘points’ are rhetorical, not literal. How do you get a bad grade in talking to a god? What metric would Bill use to - damn it, he’s overthinking this already. 

What would be a good answer. What would be bad? And what’s the horribly wrong one that ends in disaster? 

Dipper hesitates, biting his lip. He hears Bill make a soft groan, either impatient or already disappointed.

Great. Yet another chance to fail his god. Just like all the other times Bill waited for something, and didn’t get it. Now he’s going to read something Dipper wrote, words made just for him, and those will be the first words Dipper’s ever said directly to him. They have to be - 

Shit. Right. 

Another glance up - Bill has his expectant look on again, and somehow it’s even brighter this time. Watching tantalizing treat, held just out of reach - but maybe arriving, in a moment.

Of course. That’s what Bill’s been waiting for.

The only truly wrong answer is not giving one.

Dipper gives a quick smile, and starts scribbling on the whiteboard. He can do this. It may not be great, but he can hardly do worse than nothing. 

The instant he puts marker to surface, Bill’s grin somehow widens to an impossible degree, even though it’s the single most boring thing that could be going on in the nightmare realm. He even claps a few times, like a particularly annoying, demonic seal.

His enthusiasm takes some of the pressure off. Even if Dipper can’t bring himself to use the most worshipful greetings, Bill should be pleased nonetheless.

“Lemme see, lemme see!” Bill beckons him closer, eye bright and lit from within. 

For a second, Dipper’s tempted to hold the board to his chest, feeling warm in the face. It’s really not a big deal. Bill doesn’t need to make one out of it.

After a second, he turns his head away and the board around, where he’s written a fairly neutral - but still devoted! - greeting.

‘I am at your service, my lord.’

Bill looks down at the board.

Then he looks up at Dipper’s face, searching it for something. Then down again. 

The smile has slid away, leaving a mix of alarm and disgust behind. Like Bill bit into a donut he’d been saving for a special occasion, and got a mouthful of frog spawn. 

The reaction is so unexpected that Dipper’s more baffled than nervous. What, is it his handwriting? A quick check proves it’s perfectly legible. 

“Cute, I guess! Give it another shot.” Bill says, and wipes the board clean with two fingers. He laughs, in the tone of someone who’s seen a terrible social gaffe and is glossing over it. “Try ‘Bill’, instead. ‘Handsome’, if you’re daring. A pet name, even!” His smile inches briefly downward. “But ‘bout skip the ‘lord’ or ‘master’ for the next few years. Minimum.”

Dipper slowly turns the board back around, though he does side-eye Bill for a moment. He gets a grip on the marker again, pausing for thought. 

What the hell, that was a classic. Every supernatural being likes deference. Especially the powerful ones. Except now the rules have changed up, again, without any rhyme or reason, because Bill just has to be super weird, all the goddamn time. 

Not that he’s going to comment on it. If Bill overthinks this ‘no groveling’ decision, he might change his mind. 

After a few seconds of deliberation - Bill staring the whole time - he goes with, ‘Hi Bill’

“Much better,” Bill says with satisfaction. He rubs his hands together, smiling wide. “Man, we have a lot of catching up to do!”

He leans in, very, very close, making Dipper lean back against the desk. He clutches the board tight, smiles awkwardly - and hopes this won’t be too bad. 

One of Bill Cipher’s domains of power is knowledge. Another is secrets. 

With the way Bill asks questions, it’s like Dipper has a bunch that he doesn’t already know about. 

Bill wants to know his favorite color - blue - tells him it should be yellow, with a haughty sniff, then erases Dipper’s apology and insists he tell him about his brief trip outside. And about how he likes the penthouse. How he’s found the accommodations - comfy, thank you - and a thousand other minor, dull details. Keeping up with the sheer barrage makes Dipper’s hand cramp, even when he skips out on full sentences. 

It’s one of the longest conversations - insofar as it is one - that Dipper’s ever had with someone outside his old cult. Bill, meanwhile, is the god of that cult, and he still doesn’t seem to know anything about it. Or at least he’s asking a hell of a lot of questions about really, objectively, boring crap. At some point, Dipper realizes that eternal smile isn’t there anymore, so it’s probably boring him, too.

“All of that aside - I think we oughta get to the heart of the matter, as it were.” Bill snaps his fingers, and the grin resurges. 

Dipper nods. He swallows, throat bobbing, and ducks his head. 

Okay. Everything else has been kind of surface level. Now he must be moving on to deeper secrets. Things in Dipper’s head that have never seen the light of day. Or the ones that have, and Bill’s going to dig into them, deeply. Possibly painfully so -

“Why won't you talk to me?” Bill whines. 

What?

Dipper runs that sentence back through his head, but there’s no other word for it. The high, nasal tone, the slump of Bill’s shoulders. A look that might be a pout - he’s sulking again, but way harder this time. 

But that - Dipper double-checks his board, recalling all his responses. It can’t be something he wrote, that was all pretty bland. So either Bill’s just being weird again, or - something. Another thing.

Damn it. He wishes he had more space to pick this apart, but Bill’s been so close and talking too fast. He didn’t have time to analyze while bracing against the flood.

“Seriously, what are we looking at here?” Bill says, straightening up. He paces around Dipper in a circle, arms tucked behind his back. “Vow of silence? Cause if so, I’m your god, and I say screw that! Pipe up anytime!”

Dipper shakes his head. No. If it was, he would have violated it a long time ago. It’s a weird guess.

It’s weird that Bill is guessing.

“Ethereal binding? A curse, maybe?” The idea must strike him as a fun one, because Bill perks up again. “Now if we’re talking curses, oh man! I’ve got a whole collection! There’s dozens of ways to break those, kid. Hell, depending on type, we could get you patched up this evening!”

Again, Dipper shakes his head. He huffs out a sigh, about to correct Bill’s incredibly wrong assumption - 

Then pauses with the marker above the board. Because - well - Bill wouldn’t want to be told the obvious. He should know this already. 

Dipper bites his lower lip again, frowning at the blank white space. 

Shouldn’t he?

Meanwhile, Bill rattles off more speculations, each one more bizarre than the last. No, he didn’t make a deal with a sea witch, or a harpy. He didn’t wander into the bog of silence, or sell his voice for some magic beans. 

By this point he’s not bothering to hold up the board and marker anymore, just so he can shrug better. Without writing down his responses, he has more space to think.

He already knew the ‘didn’t care’ part. An ambivalent, cruel god would hardly have reason to help any easily replaceable mortal. The ‘bored’ part might fit, if Bill wasn’t so bluntly fascinated by the topic. Obviously Bill thinks some suffering is fun, but this ‘conversation’ doesn’t entertain him. It’s something…

There… was a another idea. One Dipper kept to himself. 

An assumption, and one that he knows so, so much better than to speak aloud.

Not that he can ever do that again. 

Looking at Bill’s face, though. He’s gone quiet, momentarily. Looking back at Dipper with his head cocked to one side. Staring, intensely, like he wants to drill the answer straight out of his brain. Which he can, he’s Bill freakin’ Cipher. But he’s not doing it for whatever reason, so Dipper just has to roll with that.

At the end of the day, there’s no other conclusion to come to. 

That despite the all-seeing eye, the power of a god, and knowing mysteries of the multiverse - 

Maybe Bill actually, genuinely, doesn’t... 

Dipper has to try a couple times before he gets the letters down without them wobbling too much. He gets them down with careful strokes, board feeling heavy in his hands.

His hands only shake a little when he flips it around. 

‘You don’t know?’

“Hey, I know tons, kid! A billion things! I could tell you what I had for breakfast, January 25, 1938! Or what Machiavelli did in his spare time! But that’s stuff I was personally involved in.” Bill scoffs. Then waves vaguely, not meeting Dipper’s eye. “Whatever went on in your little conclave wasn’t on my radar. I might be short on specifics.” 

Even though he was already expecting something like that, the admission catches Dipper off guard. 

Holy shit, he was right.

Bill genuinely didn’t know. He just said it, though not in so many words. 

He just. Said it. 

There are things in the world that he doesn’t notice, or - or things that he misses, he’s not - 

As Dipper reels at the revelation, he braces himself on the desk. Bill’s arm shoots out, bracing his waist like he thinks Dipper’s going to fall. 

And. If this wasn’t for - if this wasn’t from Bill. If he didn’t command it from afar. If it wasn’t his order. Then it was always the people around him, especially the priest, and Dipper didn’t, maybe, do something wrong, he just. 

Dipper sniffs, then wipes at his face with his sleeve. Hopefully it looks like he was scratching an itch or something. 

Weirdly, Bill’s serious face starts edging towards… surprise? Alarm? He coughs into his fist. “So, about the-”

Dipper waves him off, then realizes that was stupid. He picks up the board again, and scribbles, ‘I can’t.’

“What do you mean you ‘can’t’?”

How is he not getting this? Dipper huffs out a breath, and underlines ‘can’t’. Twice. 

Bill rolls his eye, patting the air in a calming motion. “Alright, alright. Straight up incapable! Now are we talking emotionally, spiritually…” It was already weird to see him serious. Now, his expression is far too calm.  “Or physically?”

Maybe Dipper shouldn’t admit this. Maybe telling Bill would get someone in trouble, but it’s not Dipper in trouble, maybe never should have been, and momentum carries him forward. 

It takes a second to write it. The words keep coming out wrong. 'They said it was for blasphemy’.

"Show me." Both Bill's face and voice are dead flat. 

The sharpness of the command stings. Dipper winces, jaw clenching tight. 

There’s the first order he’s been given. Until now, Bill hasn’t bothered, and all things considered it could be worse. 

But it is an order. Dipper swallows against the nausea rising, and clenches his fists.

Okay. He can do this. It’s been a long time since he took a look in the mirror at that particular sight, but - right, lord of nightmares. He’s probably seen way worse. 

Under Bill’s impatient gaze, Dipper carefully sets his board and marker aside. Then he shuts his eyes, points at his mouth, and opens it. 

He only holds it that way for, like, a little bit. Exposing this sucks. It makes his mouth dry, and having Bill stare at it makes the twist in his stomach worse.  A few seconds all he can stand before he shuts it again. 

A low growl rumbles. 

Then Bill’s thumb digs into the corner of his mouth, pulling it back and shoving in between his teeth. Dipper tries arching his head away, but Bill turns him back with a commanding grip on his chin. A thumb digs in, wedging his mouth open and pushing his teeth apart. The only choice is to open up or bite him, and it hurts - 

Dipper twists his head. Bill holds him still. The helpless ‘ah’ that comes out of his throat sounds strained and weak. Shit, he should just be quiet, it’s not like he’s not used to it at this point.

Continual pressure, Bill’s not giving in - so Dipper relents, letting Bill get his awful kicks out of the sight. Face burning, eyes shut. He’s never liked having to use his mouth since it happened, and Bill keeps staring when he should have only needed a glimpse to know what was wrong.

Bill holds him like that for a full ten seconds. Silent. Staring. 

Then he lets go. 

Dipper stumbles back, covering his mouth with both hands. Through the rapid blinking, he can see Bill take a deep breath in. 

And another one. 

Bill’s eye is twitching but otherwise, he’s dead-faced. No more smile, no easy stance. He’s tense and his fingers flex. His eye glows with a dull, burning light.

That’s… not a happy look. Dipper presses his back up against the wall. He blinks rapidly, trying to clear the heat from his own eyes.

When Bill punches the wall, it shatters as if hit with a sledgehammer.

Dipper drops. Legs folding, butt hitting the ground, and pressing his hands tight over his face. Shards of the wall tumble onto the carpet, and blink away into ash, as blue fire burns in the crater; drywall flaking away to reveal more of that same black stone.

“You have got to be kidding me! What kind of bullshit is THIS?” Bill’s voice rings through the room, loud and so angry. He starts pacing back and forth, throwing his arms in the air. “Bunch of half-witted jackasses ruining my stuff! And for what?” 

His voice turns strange and deep on some of the words, it resonates in the room, it makes the walls shake. 

Dipper shuffles up against the desk, taking shelter from the blooms of fire that seem to be popping up on the walls, and the floor, and - everywhere. It’s trailing along the baseboards, climbing up the corners.

Bill didn’t like that. He really, really didn’t like that. He’s angered his god again and it’s going to be bad.

“And in my name! Under my image! What a laugh!” Bill taps his foot against the carpet, teeth bared, eye glowing a bright, hot red - “They like blood rituals? Oh I’ll give ‘em a blood ritual.”

It feels like the entire building is moving by now, as Bill punctuates his statement with a kick. It tosses Dipper an inch off the ground, sending books and pens toppling to the floor. The door to the kitchen splinters into a thousand quietly screaming shards, before vanishing in acrid smoke. The heat’s rising, Bill’s way too close - and the light’s gone strange and shifting, casting stark shadows in dark black and bright light.

Dipper never should have mentioned anything. Never gone outside, never left his room, never spoken up, the last is a lesson he should know by now. Never should have thought that Bill didn’t have infinite wrath available, how stupid was he. 

All he can do now is try and make himself small. 

Tucking himself against the desk isn’t working but there’s nowhere else to go. Nothing in this room is safe, and it’s so hot - Dipper tries to breathe steadily but he can’t seem to get enough air.

“I never shoulda left that place intact in the first place!” Bill throws his head back, laughing to himself with a manic grin. “That’s the last time I let a bunch of stupid cultists live with their lungs on the inside.”

Bill punctuates his threat with another kick to the wall, which deforms like putty around him. Bill swears again. He yanks his leg, attempting to pull it out - and hey, the door’s open. Bill never shut it, he’s turned away for now and as long as he’s not looking - 

Dipper makes a break for it. 

Scrambling on hands and knees on too-hot carpet hurts, but the lower he keeps himself the less likely he’ll catch Bill’s eye again. A frantic couple of seconds later he’s out of the guest room, heart pounding, and he leaps to his feet and runs.

Can’t stay out here. Room’s too open, too many places to be cornered. Can’t be in the open or be seen, can’t remind Bill that the source of his anger is right here with him, so easy to catch and punish.

His brain catches up with him just as his foot hits stone. 

Dipper freezes in the doorway, breathing hard - but not stepping out. 

Okay, the exit opened easily enough, but he already knows that everything outside is terrifying and horrible and - he glances over his shoulder, at the blue light - it’s not much of an improvement. 

With a jerk, Dipper abandons that escape route, and turns back to face the penthouse. The light from the guest room is growing, Bill’s anger surging, and before he storms out Dipper needs a place to hide. 

There’s too much space under the piano. He’d never fit in the cupboards, or under the couch, and the fireplace is literally on fire - 

But there is one more open door that Dipper’s never been in before. 

Bill might not like it, but he also won’t look there first thing and it’s further away from him than where Dipper’s standing right now.

He’s through the door to Bill’s bedroom before he can stop himself -  no magical resistance, and no time to think about why - Dipper checks, but there’s no obvious exits, or closets, or even conveniently large wardrobes, why does - 

In the distance, Bill lets out a loud, angry incoherent sound. He hears the door slam, open or closed he can’t tell. 

As another rumble shakes the Fearamid,  Dipper ducks and slides underneath the too-large bed.

Thank hell the bed’s totally oversized; there’s enough space to crawl, so he shuffles up and back, towards the headboard. It’s a little dusty and there’s some clutter he can’t see, but all that is easily shoved aside until he curls up, tight, against the wall and under the frame.

That’s it. As far away as he can get.

Nothing left to do but wait.

It feels like a long time. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. There’s no way to tell, with the only frame of reference being his own heart pounding, too fast. 

The building has gone still again, which. Hopefully that’s a good sign. Maybe Bill’s calming down. Maybe he’s moved somewhere else. Maybe he noticed Dipper left, and he’s going to hunt him down and - 

But it might take him a while. This is a decent hiding space. The blankets draped back down after he slid under, covering any line of sight. And all the light. Everything’s dark, and the cloth and bed muffle all the distant sounds. 

Somewhere, Bill lets out a single, furious shout. Dipper winces, but he can’t make out the words anymore. It could be about anything.

After that, there’s silence again. 

Simply waiting means he could stalk in without any sign. He can be quiet, he’s basically a supernatural predator, and an ambush - he needs some warning. 

Dipper shuffles until he faces the wall, pressing his ear against the floor, listening for the approach - No footsteps. Yet. He can still feel his heart beating at a rapid pace, but he thinks he’s not panting anymore, so. That’s good. 

The quiet, and dark, and - for some, incredibly weird reason - the smell of the room itself all combine into a strangely calming effect. Not that it’s safe, because absolutely isn’t; there’s literally only a duvet keeping him out of sight.

It just. Feels a little safer. For stupid, back-of-the-brain reasons, totally irrational. Like an animal retreating into its burrow from a predator, pinging ancient instincts.

Which isn’t rational in the slightest. Not to mention the danger is Bill Cipher himself. Dipper’s putting his faith into a blanket keeping a monster from seeing him, and if it wasn’t so terrifyingly real it’d almost be funny.

This is the best he’s got for now. He’ll figure out the next step later. Whenever that is.

The one positive note is the yelling’s been done for a while now. Quiet is a welcome relief. Even if it’s temporary. 

Very temporary, as a sudden commotion starts up in the living room.

By the sound of it, Bill’s stomping around and making a clatter. He’s messing around with objects. Breaking something, maybe. Doesn’t matter, as long as he’s not breaking someone.

More thudding - faster, like a run - then Bill’s voice, loud and slightly breathless. “Hey! Pine Tree?” 

A long pause.

Dipper tucks his legs up against himself, wrapping his good arm around them. His other wrist throbs; he holds it close to his chest.

Swearing resumes, at a lower volume - then a rapid thump of a run, before an abrupt stop. 

Then Bill shouts again, echoing and distant, as if down a hallway. “Dipper!”

The name rings through Dipper’s nerves like a bell. It’s like being clanged against a metal pot, sudden and shocking, vibrations running through him. He clasps his arm tighter around his legs, and shuts his eyes.

It- maybe that was less angry? Bill, wondering where he went. Dipper’s not in trouble. He shouldn’t be in trouble. It wouldn’t be fair, it wasn’t fair before and it wouldn’t be now, he was just doing what he was told this time - and there’s no way to get out of here. There’s nowhere else to go.

Dipper pushes his nose into his sleeve, face against the fabric. 

It’s too much to hope that Bill’s not upset - but he might have taken off somewhere. Found someone else to take his anger out on. A more deserving target.

He won’t be mad forever. Right?. His emotions are flighty, and he’s easier-going than the sermons made him seem. Given enough time, maybe Dipper can uncurl himself from this place, sneak back to the probably-ruined guestroom, and -

Footsteps, again. Close. 

Dipper jerks his head up from the floor and he can still hear them, even through the cover of the bed and blanket.

Bill’s not just back, he’s in the room with him. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why did he take off, that was the worst thing he could ever have done. The eye of God is always watching, witnessing everything Dipper does. 

He can run, and he can hide, but in the end he will always face judgment.

He claps a hand over his mouth and nose. Holds his breath. A few more seconds. A minute. Every moment he can get is precious.

Bill’s shoes on the carpet make a loud, distinctive thump. The sound heads towards the fireplace of the room - then pauses, and turns back to the door. A quick, repetitive path, back and forth. Not near the bed, yet. Bill’s muttering something under his breath that’s too quiet to make out, staying in the room, not leaving, until Dipper’s lungs burn with the effort to keep still. Keep silent.

“Fuck!” Something slams into the bed, a thump on the mattress that sends the frame shaking. Despite all his effort, some air escapes Dipper’s lungs through his nose with a short, high sound. He clamps his fingers over it, but it’s too late. 

Silence. 

Bill goes still. He’s next to the bed. But he’s not setting everything under the bed aflame, or swearing or yelling anymore. Dipper holds his breath again, daring to hope-

“Aha!” The blankets whip up, letting all the light in - and showing Bill’s huge, sharp teeth bared in a grin. “There you are!” 

Dipper turns away. He faces the back wall, he lowers his head.

“I thought you almost ran out again for a sec!” A low whistle. “Be a real shame if you got devoured, kid. I’ve barely even started with you!” There’s a shuffle, like Bill - the god - himself might actually be kneeling, if only to get a better look. “C’mere.”

Dipper shakes his head. Behind him, he hears Bill let out a displeased grunt.

No, he’s not coming out. Not for this. Not even if Bill’s mad about it. 

There's punishment waiting, once he emerges. Dipper can handle it. He has before.

But he will not go willingly. He never has. 

Obedience truly offers no protection. Bill asked Dipper to tell him. Dipper did as he was told for once. Getting hurt for it is just unfair. Hi only did what he thought was right. That's all he's ever done, no matter what anyone else says, and even if some of it was blasphemous then it sure as hell wasn't any of Bill’s business. He doesn’t even know what was said. 

If Bill wants to make a big, agonizing show out of something that upset him, then whatever. He can't be stopped. 

But he doesn’t get to pretend it's anything but cruel. 

He'll have to drag Dipper out.

Another grunt behind him, and the shuffle of something on carpet. Dipper hears it come closer, then the soft brush of something on his back - he flinches. 

“Oh, for-” A heavy sigh, then a retreating scuffle. Bill mutters something under his breath, then, “Under the bed is where monsters live, sapling. By all rights I should join you! Might wanna get outta the way first.”

Dipper doesn’t move, or respond. He remains still, in the desperate hope that Bill will find it boring enough to leave him be.

There’s a pause. A long one, at that.

The silence lingers, for three seconds. Then five. Ten. 

“Okay! Okay, I get it.” Bill says. His tone is calmer, though more sarcastic than soothing. “So the little scene earlier got you freaked out. It’d be a pretty poor showing on my part if I didn’t inspire terror! But none of that was about you, kid.” A patting sound, like a palm on carpet. “You’re fine! No cowering needed!”

Yeah, right. Dipper almost rolls his eyes. 

Oh, no, of course he’s not in trouble. He just needs to come out so they can have a little ‘talk’, or participate in this one little ‘ritual’. With commentary that never once mentions his name, but says it louder than any words. 

It wasn’t true then, and isn’t true now. One of Bill’s major domains is deception, and in plain terms -  blasphemous ones - that makes him a big fat liar.

Dipper tucks his chin down further. Bill missed getting hold of his shirt earlier, so he’s sure as hell not offering his hair as purchase. If he wants to wreak vengeance, he better break down the bed or scoot back under.

Either way, Dipper gets the small satisfaction of making him work for it. It’ll almost be worth what follows.

“Seriously!” Bill says, indignant this time. “Cross my heart and hope to rot in a grave, you’re not the guy in trouble.” He waits a beat, then another - then an annoyed groan, as his lies have no effect. “Always a friggin’ skeptic, huh.”

He pauses, then, “What do you want, kid? A bribe, maybe? Do I gotta blackmail you outta there?” A hum of thought. “Okay, both! If you get outta there, I won’t read your dumb journal and will get you something reaaally nice.”

Let him talk all he wants. It doesn’t mean anything. 

“You gotta come out eventually, y’know.” Bill continues. Dipper tries to tune out his voice, but Bill’s very hard to ignore. “You can’t live there forever!”

It’s true, Dipper can’t. At some point, he’s going to need water, or to eat, or use the bathroom. All kinds of mortal human necessities. 

But until then, he can put off the consequences. Annoying Bill is just a bonus. 

Another, louder groan, and then Dipper hears Bill’s shoes on the carpet again. He stands by the bed for a moment, then goes back to tracing the same pacing path, back and forth. Not bored enough to leave, not annoyed enough to pursue. Even the slight reprieve is a surprising relief. 

Bill's also muttering to himself again. Mostly swearing, by the sound of it, but Dipper thinks he hears the word ‘stubborn’. Which tracks.

How long will it take before Bill gives up? Will he give up? Dipper’s kept his interactions with him to a minimum; he doesn’t know how much patience Bill has. Or how long it’ll last until the fire blooms under the already stifling bedframe, heat building -

“Ha!” Bill snaps his fingers. Chuckling, too, like he’s just had a great idea. 

Okay. Not that long, then. 

Before he can curl up even tighter in the cramped space, he hears Bill’s thudding footsteps - 

Running out of the room?

Dipper waits for a moment. He squirms around enough to tilt his head, checking the space left from Bill raising the blankets. Nothing there.

It’s too much to hope that Bill’s truly gone. He’ll be back. By his exclamation and sudden exit, he’s preparing for some dubiously good idea. He’s going to…

To… 

Something.

For a moment, Dipper almost wishes he had hung out with Bill more. Talked to him, or, well. Wrote something to him. Maybe then he’d have a better idea of what’s going on in that insane, convoluted head of his. It’s not burning Dipper out, apparently, or convincing him through lies. But that just leaves a giant blank space he can’t fill in with useful information.

It barely takes a minute before the sound of Bill storming back in breaks his train of thought. 

Since Dipper knows a scheme is being pulled, he’s sorta prepared. He hopes it won’t hurt, or not hurt too badly.

“Alright.” Bill returns to his previous position, standing by the bed. His breathing has slightly picked up, like he ran all the way somewhere and back. “How about this, then?”

Dipper doesn’t respond. He can tell Bill’s getting back down to peek under the bed; the shadows show it, there’s a scuffle on carpet. 

Then, Bill’s voice. Higher pitched, somewhere in the range of cloying and deeply annoying. “What’s wrong, Pine Tree?”

What.

“I heard that someone is reaaaal upset!” Bill continues, with the same godawful tone. “Why don’t you come out and have a big cuddle with your-” A pause, a quick ‘eugh’ - “Squishy little friend! Mini-Bill!”

Okay, what.

Dipper turns away from the wall out of sheer morbid curiosity. 

The first thing he catches is Bill - looking annoyed, until he sees Dipper turn to look and instantly brightens. He’s crouched by the bed, looking sideways under the frame, one arm extended, and he’s wiggling the stupid Bill plush.

Dipper stares at it. Bill jiggles mini-him some more, making the black legs and arms flop around like the most noodly of puppets. 

Bill dashed off like something was urgent, but it was really only just across the penthouse. Then he dug that out from under Dipper’s pillow, and ran back like he’d just had an amazing idea. 

It’s so…

Dumb.

With a playful whistle. Bill makes the puppet’s arms rise up like it’s offering a hug, clapping its little hands together.

In fact, Bill Cipher - is a goddamn idiot.

It’s the same phrase that always occupies a part of Dipper’s brain, only this time instead of the shame, the self-recrimination, and the memory of pain - he kinda feels like he wants to laugh. 

God. That’s. Vindication, isn’t it. Even while he’s in danger, it feels really, really good.

Bill catches him watching, and all his smugness returns in a rush. “Ha! Knew this would work.” He says - in his normal tone, thank fuck. “Your - ugh - little friend is waiting, kid! Come give ‘em a kiss!”

Alright, that’s enough. 

Dipper makes a swipe for the plushie, but Bill’s quicker on the draw and he misses by inches. That also brought him perilously close to Bill-range - he retreats before Bill can swipe right back.

Too bad. He’s not getting out of here yet. Being under the bed has been safe, so far. He can’t give that up. 

Bill groans, slumping down onto the carpet. He lies on his side, turning Mini-Bill around to glare like somehow it’s the reason Dipper didn’t give in. 

“Fine. Fine! Take your dumb toy, if he makes you feel so much better,” Bill says, mockingly. With a wordless sneer, he flings the plush in Dipper’s direction and flops down on his back. “He’s stupid anyway.”

Mini-Bill lands just far enough away that Dipper has to shuffle forward to grab it. Bill doesn’t move from where he’s lying, giving Dipper enough time to scoot back against the wall and bring it to his chest, holding tight. 

Yes, it’s dumb that Bill got this. Yes, it’s also dumb that Dipper’s glad he got it, and he knows it’s totally stupid, but having the one soft thing in his life in his arms again does make him feel better.

He checks Mini-Bill - still intact, undamaged - then back at the regular-sized version.

Bill lets out a derisive snort, but doesn’t speak. He folds his arms over his chest.

That… was nothing like Dipper expected.

That can’t have been his whole plan. Right? There’s another plot. Deception that he hasn’t seen yet. 

On the carpet, Bill lies flat on his back. He’s glaring at the ceiling. One finger taps an impatient beat on his bicep. And while there’s no smile on his face, he doesn’t look angry, exactly, even though his brow is furrowed.  It takes a second for Dipper to parse.

Bill. Actually looks…

Tired.

Not physically, of course, there’s no sweat on him. Simply like he’s run out of energy, and needs a moment to recharge. Like someone poked a pin in an inflatable plan, one he put a lot of work into, and now he needs a minute to sulk.

Which means he’s not up to anything just yet. 

Dipper squeezes Mini-Bill a few times. It’s soft and clean. A quick check proves it doesn’t even smell like smoke from all the burning; the guest room must be pretty intact. 

After a moment, he wriggles onto his stomach, plushie tucked between his shoulder and ear. 

But he slows down, and stops. Bill’s eye is on him again, half-lidded. Contemplative.

 “What a shame. My human’s decided to dwell with the dust bunnies.” Bill lays the back of a hand dramatically against his forehead, though his eye stays firmly on Dipper. “And here I was, just about to tell ‘em the real reason he’s here.” The barest flicker of a grin, quickly repressed. “Guess he’ll never learn it now!”

Okay, that's a temptation. Dipper glares, but it only makes Bill’s smile creep into a grin. 

And… fine. It’s effective, too. 

Whatever. Bill was right, earlier. Dipper really can’t stay under the bed forever. It’s cramped and dark and uncomfortably tight. It’s only been about half an hour and parts of him are already sore.

And if he’s got to get out, then now’s as good a time as any. 

He rolls onto his stomach, and inches forward, before pausing with a jolt as Bill scrambles up to a sitting position. But he doesn’t go for a grab. He just…  watches, with a weird amount of anticipation. When he sees Dipper hesitate, he starts patting his knees. 

Great, Bill’s not just stupid, he’s a dork. 

Yet another difference from doctrine. The list is getting really long - but Dipper’s okay with that. 

It could totally be worse. Way worse.

Crawling his way out is way harder than it was getting in. Without the energy of panic, it’s kind of a pain in the ass. Hiding in a barely accessible place seemed like a great idea until he had to get himself out.

It’s a far less eventful exit than he pictured. More awkward than anything. Also, the sideboard is lower than the space under the bed, and Dipper hits his head on it with a - well, he can’t swear. But he wants to. 

“Having trouble, kid?” Bill says, sounding amused. He gets to his feet, grinning wide. “No problem. Lemme get that for ya!” And snaps his fingers.

Light floods over Dipper. So does space, in an alarming amount. 

He glances around, where there’s no frame or legs or mattress or - where the hell did the bed go?

“Up you go!” Bill takes hold of Dipper’s arms, pulling him to his feet. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Dipper looks behind him - no, the bed wasn’t turned over, or anything. He can’t see a blanket or a shred of wood around. But if Bill he can make things out of nowhere, he can get rid of them too, and -

He. Probably could have done this the entire time. 

“Hey,” Bill says. He catches Dipper’s attention again with a little shake, holding onto his upper arms. “Listen up, ‘cause you weren’t earlier - You aren’t the guy I was mad at, kid.”

A brief, hesitant nod. Yeah. Okay. 

By now Dipper’s pretty sure that’s the case, or everything else wouldn’t make sense. But the way he - with the punching, and the yelling, the distorted reality -

“No, really! I wanted you in mint condition, sapling. I’m mad at whatever empty-headed asshole decided they should perform an objectively stupid surgery! ” His smile flickers into a grimace, sharp teeth very white in his face. “Someone made a real dumb call.”

On that, they can agree. Dipper nods, one sharp motion. He sniffs, and swallows.

Bill’s smile is back, but not the standard version. This is a thin thing, with tension around his eye. 

Though Dipper hasn’t been here long, he has learned a few things. One of them is how to read the variations of ‘happy’ that Bill puts on. It’s a clear cover for other emotions, running just below the surface

Right now, Bill’s still mad. He’s furious.

But like he said - it’s not at Dipper. 

This is anger with no immediate outlet, burning underneath his skin. His eye is focused elsewhere, off into the distance over Dipper’s left shoulder, like he can see the person he wants dead but just can’t reach them. Yet.

And Dipper knows exactly how that feels. For exactly the same reason.

There’s something they can both agree on. It was totally bullshit. Unfair and cruel and - and Bill himself had nothing to do with it, he’d never have ordered it done. Maybe Bill would never have said Dipper deserved to - 

Dipper takes another, longer, sniff. Clears his throat, blinking rapidly. No, can’t - not the time for that. Dwell on it later, not in front of a friggin’ god.

Bill clears his throat, smile shifting ever so slightly. “Hey hey hey! Easy, there.” He winks, sliding his hands up to pat Dipper’s shoulders. “I, for one, think a little vengeance is in order. And since it was your tongue, I’ll even let you pick the method! How’s that sound?”

That sounds… violent. Gory and chaotic and -  knowing Bill - filled with maniacal laughter.

Some deep part of Dipper even likes the idea, but he knows couldn’t go through with it. Even thinking about it makes him feel so, so tired. And awful. Pre-grossed out by the blood. There’s been too much of that already. Still, he nods again, which makes Bill cheer up. The prospect of future chaos, whenever that may be. 

Though if Bill tries following up on that, it’ll be pretty hard to pull off. The culprit was last seen dead on the steps of the altar.

“Welp!” Bill claps his hands together. “Can’t say this was a total shitshow! I learned a lot about you today.” He cocks his head to one side. “More than I thought I would.”

A dismissal. According to Bill, everything’s wrapped up. 

As he takes a step back, Dipper grabs him by his shirt. It stops him right in his tracks. For a single, stuttering heartbeat, Dipper thinks he’s fucked up, again. 

“Oh? Not done with me yet, are ya?” Bill purrs, clearly delighted. He spreads his arms wide. “What’s up, sapling? Miss me already?” He ruffles Dipper’s hair in a rough, annoying way. “I haven’t even gone anywhere!”

No, that’s not it. Dipper frowns, and shakes his head. Though it doesn’t dislodge Bill’s hand, he ignores it

There’s a lot of things Dipper doesn’t get about this place. How it works. Where, exactly, the hell he is. But ever since he was dragged from reality and brought to a weird god’s realm, he’s mostly wondered why. 

Why him. Why then, why bring him here in the first place, why stitch him up and feed and house him. Why not earlier, damn it. 

And Bill just beckoned him out with a clear, though indirect, offer. 

He doesn’t get to back out of it that easily.

“Do me a favor, will ya?” Bill says, slow. He moves in fast enough that Dipper has to back up this time. 

Wow, they’re, uh. Really close now. Dipper has a close-up view of Bill’s collar, before a touch on his chin lifts his head. 

“If you’re gonna invade my room, sapling.” There’s a twinkle in Bill’s eye. “You should get in the bed instead of under it.”

What, like. Hide under the blankets? Literally, next time? Dipper guesses that makes… some kind of sense. In a nightmare realm, made of thoughts. Shifting spaces, lingering ideas - maybe it actually does protect you from monsters. That’d be strange, but…

Damn it, this place better not run on metaphors, or that’s going to be really annoying to parse.

Also, Bill’s giving him a weird look. He stares forward, lips tucked in, like he didn’t say what he meant to, or a great line didn’t land.

Wait. Was that a joke? Weird god-demon humor? A reference? It could - no, he’s getting distracted. Letting Bill change the subject lets him get away without answering. He gives Bill’s shirt another tug, insistent.

“What’s up?”

Oh, for - Maybe Bill should put some of that infinite knowledge towards remembering what he said three minutes ago. 

Dipper holds his hand out flat, scribbling an invisible pen on his palm. Thankfully Bill gets that hint; another board snaps into existence, and Dipper takes it not very gently from his hold.

It only takes a second to write it out, though Bill keeps trying to lean over the board for a peek. 

‘Why am I here?’

“Oh, that.” Bill says airly, looking up and to the side. He’s avoiding Dipper’s gaze. “Y’know. Reasons.”

Dipper takes a deep breath, and lets it out. Okay. Secrets. Another of Bill’s domains, he gets that, but still. He underlines the question, twice. 

“Boy, you’re real curious arent’cha?”

Yes, he is. How much more obvious could it be? Dipper taps the end of the marker on the board - then sighs, and writes a quick addition. ‘Please’. 

“How polite!” Bill’s smile turns mocking, squeezing Dipper’s shoulders. “Wanna add a ‘pretty’ to that?”

That- Fine. Dipper grits his teeth. After the day he’s had, he can handle one last awful thing. For answers.

The marker smudges from the pressure as Dipper painstakingly scrawls down the word.

“Hm.” Bill’s eye narrows as he hums in thought, He rubs his chin, head tilting to the side. Taking his damn time, too, as he looks Dipper over like he’s evaluating a rather expensive purchase.

It never hurts to look presentable in front of a deity, when it comes to something important. The best he can do is stand up straight, and look attentive. Bill shouldn’t mind. He should just spit it out already.

“The reason you’re here, mortal…” Bill says, drawing the sentence out, word by word. He smiles, something slow and sharp, as his thumb strokes over Dipper’s cheek - then pinches it. “Is for me to know, and you to wonder about!” 

What? 

Fucking what?

As Bill draws back, Dipper’s mouth works, no sound coming out. Another yank on Bill’s shirt does nothing except make him laugh. 

It’s not funny. It’s important, it’s - Heat rises into Dipper’s face. His shoulders inch up towards his ears.

Bill can’t just do that. Not after today. Not after everything Dipper’s been through, the demons, the tantrum, the stupid talk to get him out of the bed. The totally humiliating plea. Dangling this in front of him, the reason he’s been kidnapped and confused and basically alone this whole time, then taking it back? 

Nothing ever goes right for Dipper when it comes to his awful god, and - and the laughter stings. Embarrassment burns and rises on the coattails of all the other bullshit Dipper’s dealt with today; there’s heat in his chest and a knot in his stomach. 

That’s not what he said. It’s not fair.

He can’t just do that. 

“Yep! You’re not getting that one outta me. Nice try, though.” Bill taps his finger against the end of Dipper’s nose, making him flinch. “You’re never gonna gue-”

Rational thought doesn’t have time to catch up before Dipper’s fist meets Bill’s face. 

It lands, painfully, in the juncture of his head and neck. With more of a thud than a crack - but it does jerk Bill’s head to the side, and that’s a minor win.

Or would, be, if it had the right effect. 

Bill looks surprised and totally unhurt, while Dipper’s knuckles definitely sting from the contact. He shakes them to get some feeling back. What the hell, how durable is that bastard - 

His brain, screaming from the background, kicks in again. 

Dipper grips his hand tight as shame rising higher in his chest, a burning tide. It feels like he’ll choke on it.

Stupid, stupid stupid. How could Dipper be this dumb, he’s in the realm of a god, helpless, powerless, at the mercy of his whims  - and if Bill wasn’t mad before then he’s definitely mad now. 

God, this always happens, Dipper does something stupid, he stupidly defies god’s will, and there’s always consequences, no matter how he fights.

He looks up at Bill, chest heaving. Bill looks right back, rubbing his jaw - and starting to smile, wide. Showing those dangerous, predatory teeth.

No way to get out of here. Leaving the penthouse means other dangers, and leaving the realm is impossible. Even if he could, Bill’s got a memory a million years long, and he put a knife in the priest’s chest so casually that it was like putting it back in a drawer.

But Dipper can avoid him, for a bit. Along with all other awful things he found out today, he learned that fact.

He turns on his heel, ready to make his second run of the day.

It fails almost instantly.

One step into his retreat, Bill seizes him by the waist and drags him in, too quick by far. Strong, too; kicking out doesn’t work, hitting him again doesn’t work, he struggles against the tight grip and it only makes Bill let out a terrible, cackling laugh. 

Arms come around him, then, drawing him in too close to even hit the bastard anymore, or struggle effectively. They squeeze so tight it’s nearly hard to breathe. Dipper feels a warm grip on the back of his neck, firm and relentless. 

God. He never stood a chance against Bill, did he. Too strong, too quick. Too weird to understand, or placate. Nothing was going to be clear, or forthright, or helpful or safe. 

Escaping the cult didn’t matter, all of Bill’s previous patience didn’t matter, things are alway going to turn against him and ruin his day and his life. It doesn’t matter where Dipper is, it’s always going to be like this. 

It was never going to be okay. 

The strangled noise that escapes his throat sounds so much worse than a normal person’s. A wordless, helpless sound he can’t stop, there’s too much frustration and anger and sheer exhaustion, and Bill’s holding him really right, up against his chest. Dipper headbutts his shoulder in one last attempt at escape, then just. Leaves it there. 

Bill can retaliate whenever he wants. Dipper can’t fight right now, he just - He needs a minute.

The minute lasts. And passes. 

Also, Bill’s shirt is really soft, so it doesn’t hurt when he rubs his face against it. Fuck, and now he’s getting it wet -  but actually, fuck Bill, he’s the one who caused all of this. 

Absolutely everything is Bill Cipher’s fault, even if indirectly. Dipper hiccups, then wipes his nose on the soft cloth. 

It’s all soggy and gross now, he screwed up again - 

But no, Bill deserves it. He hopes it sucks for Bill as much as it does for him, trying to stop his chest from heaving. Bill could have let him go and avoided this, but no, he’s stuck in his arms. Let that asshole get all damp. 

At some point Dipper started clinging back, but that’s only because he couldn’t go anywhere else. Bill hasn’t relented even in the slightest, this entire time. He’s stroking a palm up and down Dipper’s back in a slow, warm rhythm because he’s super goddamn weird. 

Much like living under the bed, this, too, can’t last forever. 

Eventually Dipper sighs. The breath is shaky. Still more solid. He doesn’t have any more to let out.

He’s. Still pretty embarrassed, but he can’t see Bill’s face and he’s not dead. Two okay points in what’s otherwise been… not the worst day of Dipper’s life. But maybe in the top ten.

The hand playing with the hair at the back of his neck slows. Then it strokes through his hair again, and down. Bill pats him between the shoulders, letting out a low sigh. 

“Aw, look at you. All torn up ‘cause the answer wasn’t handed to ya on a silver platter.” Bill pats his back a couple more times. “Man, are you full of fluids!”

A little squirming manages to free Dipper from Bill, at least by a few inches. Bill gives him a once-over, then pushes a handkerchief into his face. 

It’s too late to pretend none of that happened. Or cover up, for dignity’s sake. Or back up, for that matter. With his cover totally blown, Dipper takes the damn thing so he can stop ruining Bill’s shirt, and wipes his face.

“Tell ya what. You had yourself a big day, and your poor human brain’s probably way too overwhelmed to be of use, sooooo…” Bill says, drawing out the word slowly. Smug, again, despite his snotty shoulder and too-close human. “I guess I can part with one hint.”

Dipper looks up. Bill meets his gaze with a grin, totally unbothered. Oddly unbothered.

It’s… it’s like he truly doesn’t mind that his shirt is ruined because some random human’s having a fit, or that he’s been bothered by pointless crap ruining his evening. Bill looks…

Well, he’s… not amused, exactly. Something less snide, and downright impossible to place.

“Truth is…” Bill leans in close, and winks. “You’re special, sapling.” He lingers for a moment - then squeezes Dipper again, slightly more gentle. “Have fun working out what that entails.”

Special. 

Sure, it’s a hint. One that’s sorta true. With everything else that’s happened, denying it outright would throw all of the other hints out with the bathwater. But…

Dipper, of all people. Special. 

It’s one hell of a word choice - and it’s totally, classically Bill. 

With just one word, Bill implied a secret with deep importance. Saying that, deep down, Dipper has something nobody else does. 

Because of course he did. It’s about the allure. 

Everyone wants to be important. Being important to a god, triply so. It’s the carrot at the end of a long, long stick. A temptation. Doesn’t Dipper want to know why he’s ‘special’? Wouldn’t it be cool if he was? The intrigue is exactly why it’s so dangerous.

His first instinct was right. Bill is an asshole. And a big fat liar. 

Dipper blows his nose into the handkerchief, sniffing again. Looking awed at the ‘reveal’ would be the right response, but he’s too tired to play along. And by the look of it, Bill doesn’t mind that either. 

“Gross,” Bill says, but his smile doesn’t alter a fraction. Dipper can’t see any other emotion behind it, for once. He reaches up, thumb smoothing some hair behind his ear, before his arm slips around Dipper’s waist. “No amount of special stops you from being organic, unfortunately.”

Yet more Bill, revealed. A liar, an asshole - and definitely the type of guy who can’t leave an insouciant comment unsaid. It’s completely unsurprising. 

Even though he doesn’t need to, Dipper blows his nose again, just to watch Bill make a face. He rubs at his eyes, trying to dispel some of the lingering heat. 

It doesn’t matter though, Dipper guesses. Bill’s always going to be really goddamned weird and erratic and insane. A person that no amount of learning enables you to entirely predict.

He’s just going to have to work around it. Somehow.

With a smile, Bill starts up his slow petting again. His arms are warm, and that inhuman strength isn’t so bad when it’s just. Holding. 

It’s been a long time - or, how long has it been? Years, maybe… god, Dipper can’t remember the last time someone just- 

He takes a slow, shuddering breath. Bill goes very still for a moment, then he squeezes Dipper around the back, with both arms. Not hard, just tight enough to be kind of…

Wow. Okay.

This is a hug. Bill might lie about it later, but there’s literally no other word for it. 

Dipper turns to rest his forehead on Bill’s dry shoulder, and listens to him chuckle. He can feel his chest moving under his hand, and the steady beat of an inhuman heart. 

There’s a secret here. One about Dipper, and what he means. Bill’s partially revealed it, and he wants Dipper to work out the rest. Best thing to do would be to get on that immediately.

But he’ll have time for that later. 

He can stay here for a bit. Until Bill gets bored with this part too. 

Dipper lets out a sigh, and lets himself relax. He feels the slow stroke start up on his back again, and a low contented hum. This warm body, firm under his arms. 

Even if it’s a lie, it makes Dipper feel like he’s special. Just for a moment. 

[hisui-dreamer]

hello ˚ ༘ (♡ˊ͈ ꒳ ˋ͈) about mc angel's request, I was wondering if you could do the same but for malleus and lilia,.. also adding the fact that mc doesn't know how to land well and always crashes xd so mc have to practice constantly jsjs thanks! ^^

of softer landings

Characters: Malleus, Lilia

Synopsis: you're an angel, but really you don't act like one, even more so with your crash landings. Worry not, your lover is glad to be of assistance.

Tags: crack, fluff, bot proofread

Word count: 509

Notes: i just assumed the two of them do fly with wings, malleus being a dragon fae and lilia being a bat fae? also writing lilia's old man dialogue is so fun

Part 1 ✧ Masterlist

Malleus finds you so interesting

he appreciates the challenge your stubbornness presents, and the excitement your mischievous behaviour brings to his life

he thinks its another prank of yours when you tell him

"An angel?" he repeats, trying to make sense of it all. "I find it hard to believe."

but once you tell him you're serious, he'll believe you because he puts an incredible amount of trust in you

loves seeing your wings bc it shows you trust him

he's a bit clumsy when it comes to wing care, but he's more than willing to help you maintain your damaged wings

very concerned about your crash landings

honestly he's so excited to help you with flying, seeing it as an opportunity to assist you and spend more time with you

very patient in teaching but he's also the type of teacher that can't be specific in instructions

goes great lengths to ensure you're safe and comfortable during the practice sessions

he's gotten so good at casting slow fall spells quickly now

Malleus reaches for your hand, gently holding it. "Child of Man- no, my Sweet Angel, as dragon fae, I believe I can offer valuable guidance to you. Please do not hesitate to ask for my help, and I will do my utmost to ensure your safety and success."

He taps his chin, pondering. " When you're close to the ground, you want to bend your knees slightly. Think of it like preparing for a duel."

"Well done, my Sweet Angel! You have a natural talent for flying, and I have no doubt that you will master landing with practice and determination," he encourages, his dark wings flapping in excitement.

Lilia loves your energy, the two of you bounce energies off of each other and you’re quite a mischievous duo

he finds it amusing to be challenged and teased by you

he will be strict if you take a joke too far, but he can’t stay mad at you for too long

he has met many angels in his long fae life but you’re the first to be so mischievous

he believes you pretty quickly though, he’s seen more strange things in his life

"Well, I'll be. You're not like any other angel I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. But that's precisely what makes you so special and dear to me," he laughs

he loves helping you with wing care, he finds it so calming, and you often request his assistance with how you always crash land

he’s worried about you getting hurt, bad landings can be dangerous  

he offers to teach you how to land, suggesting you practice on a softer surface like a pile of leaves or moss and also demonstrating flying

he’s determined to do whatever it takes to ensure your safety and well-being

also super patient with his training

Lilia smiles and wraps his arms around you. "I believe you," he says softly. "And I think it's amazing that you're an angel. You're unlike any other angel I've ever met, and that's what makes you so special to me."

"Dear me, that simply won't do," he says, his tone taking on a more serious note. "It's imperative that you learn how to land properly if you wish to continue flying safely. Allow me to offer my assistance in this matter."

Lilia extends his hand towards you, offering to help with practice. "Come, my dear, let us begin your training at once. I have been flying for many years, and I believe that with my guidance, you can learn to land smoothly and safely."

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[icedragonlizard]

Magolor headcanons

Another post for my "series" of tumblr posts going over general headcanons for singular characters of the Kirby series!

Magolor is another Kirby character that I have a lot of headcanons for. Allow me to get started on going over them!

He's also fun to make a lot of headcanons for! I'll put a 'Keep reading' tag because it'll be another long one. As always, everything that is underneath the keep reading tag is purely my headcanons.

When Magolor first excavated and repaired the Lor Starcutter in Halcandra, he then used it to take a fun cruise around outer space. That was his first time piloting the Lor after he fixed it.

During his cruise around outer space, he found a certain jester helplessly floating around as a result of getting blasted into a clockwork star. This is, of course, Marx. Upon encountering him, Magolor felt bad, so he decided to take Marx in and recover him, and become his friend in the process.

Marx then shared vital information to Magolor that eventually led to RTDL's events taking place. He disclosed about his incident with Kirby that almost got him killed. This gave Magolor the grand idea to plot a betrayal against Kirby, like Marx before him. He planned in having this betrayal give him the opportunity to finally get his hands on the Master Crown and attempt universal conquest.

He's wanted the Master Crown for a long time, but he was previously incapable of acquiring it, since he couldn't defeat Landia in a fight. But ever since he took the Lor on a cosmic cruise and found Marx, and learned about Kirby's existence thanks to Marx, this had given Magolor high hopes of finally getting the Master Crown by using Kirby and co to defeat Landia as his way of obtaining it.

Now that I'm done going over my pre-RTDL headcanons for Magolor, let's get into all the headcanons that take place after the game!

Magolor got his act together after spending five miserable months in Another Dimension. As he finally left that horrible, twisted dimension, he spent a couple of years in the Dream Kingdom to obtain enough capital to start his dream of building an amusement park in Planet Popstar. This would be his apology to Kirby and co, as he wanted to reconcile and sincerely become their friend after what happened.

Although he interacted nicely with some residents in the Dream Kingdom, he didn't really care enough to make any actual friends during his time there. He didn't intend to stay there for too long. He did, however, say his goodbyes to them as he left.

After leaving the Dream Kingdom, he did a few things before making his grand return to Planet Popstar:

First, he temporarily returned to Halcandra to apologize and reconcile with Landia, and then fix the broken Lor Starcutter.

The dragon was rather skeptical at first, but forgives as it eventually realized that Magolor was sorry. The two don't actually become true friends, but they've been at peaceful terms with each other since. That being said, Landia did make the decision to show up at Popstar one time to check out Magolor's amusement park when it heard about the park's opening! This headcanon is to help explain why Landia makes an appearance in Merry Magoland.

Magolor then worked in getting the Lor Starcutter back together in Halcandra. Thankfully, all the energy spheres were in the planet, and he was able to achieve them all, with Landia's help on some of them.

When he got the Lor back up and running, and bid a farewell to Landia as he left Halcandra, he did one more thing before returning to Popstar: find Marx and break the news to him.

Magolor met Marx again after a long time, and broke the news on everything that happened since they last saw each other. After breaking the news, Magolor then let Marx know about his plan to go back to Popstar to reconcile with Kirby and co, and attempted to encourage the jester to do the same. However, Marx stubbornly refused to do so at first, very much to Magolor's disappointment.

But nevertheless, Magolor still stuck to his decision to make up with Kirby and the others, as he still really wanted to do so. And to his joy, Marx eventually went ahead to also make his reconciliation with Kirby some time after Magolor did his, but not before the two tricksters had strife with each other over this when Marx hadn't relented yet.

When Magolor finally returned to Popstar and made his grand apology, he was very quickly forgiven by Kirby and King Dedede. Meta Knight was quite skeptical at first, but eventually also forgave Magolor, although he definitely needed some time before he did so. That's 3/4 of the dream team that forgave him.

However... the fourth member of the dream team hasn't, and to this day, still doesn't forgive Magolor. Bandana Waddle Dee still holds a grudge against him. This is elaborated more on my post talking about how Bandee is a big hater and still has very angry feelings about most of Kirby's friends that used to be villains.

But despite not getting forgiveness from Bandee, that didn't stop Magolor from being allowed to make Popstar his new home planet. That's exactly what he did as he made his grand return, as he got himself situated at somewhere out in Dream Land as his home area. Where he lives is on an outer edge of Dream Land that can see Orange Ocean from a distance. It's also where the Lor Starcutter will be sitting around for the majority of the time from here on out.

Even though Magolor announced that he'll build an amusement park after making his apology to the dream team, he didn't immediately start doing it. He lives in Popstar for several years until he finally gets around to start building his park. During that time frame, he gets to know Kirby's other friends, including ones that are also ex-villains. Over the years, he makes many friends.

His four closest friends are Kirby, Marx, Taranza and Susie. I've made earlier tumblr posts on how he interacts with Marx as well as how he interacts with his Taranza and Susie. So go check those out if you'd like, as I won't repeat his entire dynamics with them in here.

Post-RTDL, Magolor can be considered a 'big brother' friend to Kirby. In fact, as soon as he made his apology, Kirby gave him a hug as he was glad to see that he was alright, and that hug turned out to be well-deserved considering Magolor's efforts in getting to that point.

It delights Magolor every time Kirby comes to visit him at his home. One of his favorite things to do with Kirby is make him laugh. Overall, though, he wants to keep making the little guy proud. As he considers Kirby to be very special, he's highly honored to now be friends with him, and doesn't want to ruin that again.

Now going past Magolor's four closest friends, he has many other friends that he's also often silly with.

King Dedede has taken a large liking to Magolor while warming up to him post-RTDL. These two often engage in funny talk, and sometimes even impersonate each other's voices just to mess with each other. Every so often, Magolor may also come around Dedede's castle to pull a prank or two. When Merry Magoland became open, Dedede found lots of amusement with the dress-up masks, as he and Magolor often impersonate others' voices when wearing masks.

It took Meta Knight some time to forgive Magolor. Initially, he was quite pissed off for a while, since that betrayal hit pretty hard for him. But as Meta Knight experiences Magolor more and more post-RTDL, knowing that a betrayal won't happen again, he does genuinely warm up to him. At one point, he fully accepts him as a friend.

There was one time where Magolor was even invited to the Halberd, and he was more than capable of making Meta Knight's crew laugh. The Halberd crew really likes him! Meta Knight is also very much amused by him sometimes as well. There may be occasions where he finds Magolor a bit annoying, but he's pretty good with him now. Magolor really likes Meta Knight and thinks he's a total badass.

Magolor is good friends with the mage sisters. He loves messing around with them, as well as talking about ancient technology with them. Of the three, Flamberge is the one he's closest friends with, as he likes how bombastic she is compared to the others.

He lovably has nicknames for all three of them. His nickname for Zan Partizanne is 'Zan Parmesan Cheese', he calls Flamberge 'Flamburger' and he calls Francisca 'Friendcisca'. When referring to the trio as a whole, he calls them the 'traffic-light trio girls'.

Daroach is another one that Magolor is pretty good friends with. These two have a particular thing going on where they love to steal from each other. There's definitely some irritation during this, but they both think it's really fun and enriching to commit robbery on each other. They'll often be like "DAMN! How'd he get me this time?"

Magolor and Daroach admire each other's slyness as they steal from each other. Even when they aren't stealing from each other, they sometimes hang out as well. They've got a similar sense of humor and will often tell each other jokes. They can also sometimes form a trio with Marx, where all three of them commit tomfoolery together.

Gooey really likes Magolor, and vice versa. Magolor enjoys making Gooey laugh, and like with Kirby, he's also delighted whenever the little dark matter defect comes to visit him. He'll often pat Gooey on the head like the good boy he is. There are times Magolor will trick Gooey into doing funny things in the light-hearted sense, and of course the blue blob doesn't mind it when that happens!

Adeleine, Ribbon and the animal friends are all on decent terms with Magolor as well. Rick and Kine in particular quite like him, as they'll often engage in funny talk with him when he encounters them. Magolor may sometimes hype Kine up as some wholesome fish that can kick some major ass, which of course makes Kine laugh.

Dark Meta Knight is... someone that doesn't get along with Magolor. Magolor tried to be his friend at first, but it didn't exactly work out as DMK wasn't really interested in being his friend. DMK thinks that he's just some obnoxious attention-seeking weirdo he'd rather not have anything to do with. Whoops...

Magolor and Elfilin are... sort of on neutral terms with each other. At first, Elfilin thought he was really weird and obnoxious until eventually warming up to him, but not really close enough to consider a friend. Magolor likes Elfilin, although he feels bad about weirding him out many times.

That more or less wraps up on how Magolor interacts with other notable members of the Kirby cast in my headcanons. He's been forgiven by the dream team except for Bandana Waddle Dee, and he's got rather silly dynamics with most of the other ex-villains that have also become Kirby's friends.

I think it's worth noting that Magolor has a bunch of 'partners-in-crime' relationships with many of the other ex-villains. He's got a 'partners-in-crime' with Marx, one with Taranza, one with Susie, one with Daroach, and ones with the mage sisters. Sometimes, he'll be joined by one of them in doing tomfoolery, because they all know how much he enjoys it. Can't deny that mischief is fun, huh?

Magolor's favorite food is apples, although his favorite type of food is fruit in general. Apples weren't always his favorite food, though, as it used to be pineapples until he started doing things with gem apples to inspire him to eat apples more.

Speaking of gem apples, Magolor has pulled pranks involving them. During Star Allies, when the mage sisters were the enemy, Magolor would offer them gem apples 'snacks' after defeating them, and then snapped his fingers to have the gem apples blow up in their faces to further humiliate them. Also looks at Daroach, who stole gem apples from Magolor before, but found out that it was pretty dumb to have done so.

While he has a fascination with ancient technology, he's gradually learning more about modern technology thanks to Susie. He has a phone that she made for him. Sometimes, he prank-calls people on the phone... he has Susie, Taranza and the mage sisters as contacts, so that's who he occasionally prank-calls, lol.

As Magolor's home area in an outer edge of Dream Land is where the Lor Starcutter will normally sit around at when he's not piloting it, he's been implementing upgrades onto it over time. He's given the Lor the capability of playing music, as well as the ability to play videos on its screens, meaning he can pretty much use the Lor's screens like a television. He'll sometimes play music or watch videos inside the Lor late at night, right before he goes to sleep.

Speaking of going to sleep, the Lor is where Magolor sleeps inside of. He doesn't have a normal house or anything, as he basically uses the Lor as his 'house'. Every time right before he goes to sleep, he turns off most of the Lor's functions so it doesn't make some really dumb malfunction as he sleeps. That wouldn't be good, lol.

He'll sometimes take the Lor out onto rides. He'll also use it for whenever he goes to vacation on other planets, or even to visit friends that live outside of Popstar (such as Susie and the mage sisters). He's more than glad to take friends onto rides in the Lor as he pilots it to places, either so they get to experience it in while it's in full operation or they may be going on the same vacation with him.

When the Lor isn't at Magolor's home in Dream Land, that means he's outside of Popstar for the time being, doing something on some other planet. Whether the Lor is at his home or not is an indicator if he's in Popstar or not. He occasionally does things out of the planet.

He's taken a vacation on Halcandra post-Star Allies one time, just to see what the place was up to and to see how Landia has been doing. While Halcandra is a messy place, it appears that Landia is the closest thing that the planet has to a 'ruler'. Magolor took some of his friends with him during this rare vacation to Halcandra.

The Lor Starcutter is Magolor's method of getting to the Forgotten Land, since he doesn't care enough to ask Elfilin to open up portals for him to get there, so instead he gets there himself. He's also brought many others to the Forgotten Land by using the Lor.

His first vacation in the Forgotten Land was with Taranza and Susie, who he took with him by using the Lor. The three of them checked out the place together for the first time. Then at some point later, Magolor made a second vacation in the Forgotten Land, as that time he brought Marx with him as he showed him around the place.

Magolor has been really enjoying his time in the Forgotten Land. He experienced everything that Waddle Dee Town had to offer, but what he liked the most was checking out the weapons shop where he liked seeing all of the ability 'costumes' that Kirby has worn.

After Forgotten Land's events is when Merry Magoland finally finishes production and becomes open to the public. That it opens up this recently explains how there are dress-up masks for Forgotten Land characters, as Magolor visited the place before finishing up his amusement park. Production began several months before Forgotten Land's events, and finished up some time after.

A large group of waddle dees helped Magolor build the park. They helped build the structures and the attractions. They assured to keep building the park as they gave Magolor the opportunity to take a vacation in the Forgotten Land, as he was way too intrigued to not visit there at his soonest opportunity to do so.

NOTE: While I'm aware that Merry Magoland might actually be taking place in a different reality, I'm making it exist in my headcanon universe. I mean, to be fair, you can see it in the background in some parts of the main story in RTDLDX, so I'd think it should be okay to have it exist in my headcanon universe.

Magolor himself created the dress-up masks. He created them using his magic, as over the years he's been improving on his magic and has developed the capability of creating things such as plushies.

The other notable members of the Kirby cast have had... wildly varying reactions to the masks. Many loved it, others kind of had a bone to pick with him about it. He didn't exactly get a whole lot of brownie points from Taranza and Susie when he made masks of their dead loved ones, despite them being his friends. Whoops. He did apologize, though... they eventually got over it as they're still his friends, but ooooh were they NOT happy about it at first.

Overall, aside from the controversy over the masks, the general reception of Merry Magoland is rather well. Many however have pointed out how hilarious it is for the main castle structure to resemble Magolor, as well as all the Magolor symbols floating around the place. That more than proves his pridefulness.

Magolor doesn't want trouble happening in his park. If someone tries to kickstart chaos, they'll be kicked out. They don't get banned from the park, as they can come back later, but they'll be asked to leave for the time being if they cause trouble. May need to look at Marx for this one, considering he has a bigger tendency for chaos than most others do.

The park has hours of when it's open and closed. It's open for most of the day, but it's closed during early morning and late night. There are times where Magolor might decide to close the park for a few days if he wants to go on a vacation or something, or he might close it for one day if he's wanting to go to some big event. Of course, he still has things he'd like to do outside of the park, and thus there are occasional days where he may have the park close for the time being.

Magolor may host particular events in Merry Magoland, such as holiday-related events, or when a close friend's birthday is coming.

Speaking of birthdays, he's made his own birthdays events in the park before! But before Merry Magoland opened, Magolor did have his birthdays celebrated in Dream Land ever since he moved in. Kirby would kickstart a birthday party for him every time. He really appreciates it! His non-Popstar friends will also show up for him.

There were some birthdays where he invited a bunch of people over to inside the Lor to have some party, and they either dance to music playing or they watch videos together. Either way, it's a lot of fun!

Back then in earlier parts of his life, his birthdays went uncelebrated as he didn't really have anybody. That changed post-RTDL when he started actually having people in his life to celebrate his birthdays with. He always gets super duper excited when his birthday hits.

Kirby always gives Magolor a big hug on his birthday. Awwwww........ that in of itself can be considered a present. It makes Magolor rather emotional every time that happens!

I think that about wraps up the headcanons that I have for Magolor! He's quite a fun character, isn't he? If you've taken the time to read all this, I thank you very much.

I made an earlier post going over my general headcanons for Susie, and if you decide to also check out that post if you haven't already, then I'd appreciate it!

Well, since now I've made these posts for both Susie and Magolor, that means Taranza will be the next Kirby character to make a massive headcanon post about to get this done for all of Wave 3! So you'll have that to look forward to.

I suppose that after Taranza, I may do either Marx or Gooey next after him. But for now, you get Magolor, and you also have Susie that I wrote general headcanons for earlier.

I look forward to seeing you for more later!

[intertexts]

oh god i just realized I forgot to send you this. behold: the worst trivia ask out of all of them:

EPISODE 22 TRIVIA:

- they spend the first. 9 whole minutes talking about the logistics of snapping someones neck irl only to learn that its not actually possible and thats just something that was make up for movies

- "this is the most guy talk we've ever had at the beginning of a rolled. i feel like we need a trigger warning for boys"

- bizly wanted them seeing tide again to feel awkward and weird! like you're going back to your parents house after not seeing them for a really long time

- talking about how dakota has so many parental figures now and grizzly goes "except for ms. g. she has my whole heart" and WITHOUT missing a beat charlie goes "no. *i* have your whole heart"

- there was apparently a group of people on twitter who made a VERY long VERY well researched document about how all the medical stuff esp involving william would work and kept tagging bizly in posts asking how things would work and hes like "man i dont know!! i write a silly superhero show im not a doctor! it all comes down to his parents built a very strange machine that was designed to view worlds unseen!" (<< quoting the dp theme song in the most EXASPERATED voice possible.)

- "WILLIAM WISP SHOULD HAVE FUCKIN WORMS IN HIM. if we were playing this realistically william would be fuckin LOCKED UP with rigor mortis and COVERED in worms and FULL OF GASSES. he should be FOUL. and FULL OF WORMS. and I DONT WANT THAT" << hes a coward for this. btw. i feel like william should be grosser

- they just keep saying more things about how william should be so grotesque. at one point charlie goes "please dont draw this. its so gross". me, looks at my 4/7 jrwi freak week canvases that are william wisp themed. um. well.

- WARM BODIES MENTION. i love that movie. charlies like "thats how i want william to work hes undead but hes like. pretty about it"

- bizly: "because we've already explored this plot thread of William Being Dead so much, i dont want him getting a heart to just automatically fix that. its not like hes just magically alive now. i havent thought of the exact consequences yet but i want there to be some drawbacks to this to keep things interesting"

charlie: "william is just thrilled right now to be feeling stuff. i dont think hes considering the possible drawbacks"

- "ive never been prouder of any of my characters than when william wisp dented drywall"

- "why didnt vyncent get a fun surgery too" "because I'm a coward"

- they were on some absolutely insane energy for this rolled they keep going on like 5-10 minute long tangents and BARELY talk about the episode other than to mention how william should be a rotting corpse. I REMEMBER NOW that this was a SIGNIFICANT factor in my being frustrated with the heart surgery thing LMAO

- THATS IT. THATS LITERALLY IT. THE ROLLED IS OVER NOW. THIS WAS NOTHING !!!!!

TERRIBLE rolled youre right!!!!! help!!! this is so funny. great rolled guys lets wrap it up. william should be wormy and u cant snap peoples necks. good job everybody. it is really funny to me that people were... expecting medical accuracy?? how do u really seriously research putting one guys heart and another guys blood inside a body that's been dead for several years. frankly i would love to see it i'm very curious.

LOWKEY I'M GLAD HE *ISN'T* A BLOATED LOCKED UP DECAYING CORPSE!!!!! PERSONALLY!!!! i fully respect ur rights and taste to think he should be rotting and worm filled and stinky but frankly i'm on charlies side w this one. hes undead and pretty about it <33

anyway. i still have many thoughts about wiwi's soul/body/wisp relationship that i will NOT start talking about now because it would get LONG. but. its always great hearing their thoughts on it. eyes emoji. but yeah i really don't want him to be just magically fixed and alive now.... we'll see!! we'll see how it goes!!!!

[saturnine-saturneight]

Get to Know Your Moots Writeblr Interview

@davycoquette published the template for this [here] and it looks fun, so here I go!

I'm leaving this as an open tag, also.

On the Tumblr Writing Community

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr?

I made this Tumblr last year with the intention of joining writeblr, then just kind of didn't. I've been using this blog actively for just two months now.

What led you to create it?

I had my story and no earthly idea how to get it out there. I was also missing a community and people to talk to about writing. Two problems that this has rectified :)

What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?

Hands down how friendly a lot of people are and how much we engage with each other's writing. A close second is to hear people talk about their process and watch their stories grow.

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

Meta! Tell me your thoughts! Show me your process! Give me before and afters when you edit!

What tips/advice do you have for someone who made a Writeblr today?

Idk, do what I did? Follow a bunch of people, do open tag games, start commenting on other people's posts and tagging them in things. Engage with others, and when you find something you like, tell that to the person who made it.

WIP it Good

Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

It's really only Reburial (FKA Twin Suns) for me. I'm focusing all my energy on that. I have an idea or two for books after that in the same universe... But one thing after the other.

How long have you been working on them?

Depends heavily on how you count. I made the characters maybe 7 years ago, give or take? (Edit: Never mind, Ron was created 9 years ago. Christ.) The drabbles that kickstarted the story are from 2018. Since then I've picked it back up and put it back in a corner multiple times.

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?

These are roleplay characters that were originally part of a wider social net of characters that I was playing with friends. We all had our own plots going that the characters could then talk to each other about or even get involved in.

The events of Reburial/Twin Suns started when Nat had a very ill advised situationship with a friend's character who infected them with mushrooms. It was very different and almost none of it has stayed.

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

At least an hour a day.

When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?

I usually keep it simple and just say horror. I don't talk about my writing very much to people IRL, and 'horror' has been offputting to basically everyone I've said that to, lmao.

Let’s Rotate Blorbos

Name any characters you created.

I've been rotating Ron in my mind, with Matcha being a close second. Ron doesn't get a lot of airtime in Act 1, simply because Nat sucks all the air out of a room with their thoughts and feelings and pays almost no attention to Ron's. Although he's the deuteragonist, we only really get to know him in Act 2.

Who’s the most unhinged?

Rabbit. Her and the hinges are only vague acquaintances. I like her because she's practical to a fault about deeply strange goals, like a single silver thread connecting her to the most fucked up version of herself that she can be.

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

I don't really struggle with any of them. I've spent months to years roleplaying almost every character in the roster. The least natural is Louis, though.

Do you ever cringe at them?

Especially in their self centeredness, Nat can be pretty out of touch. They fancy themself a lot of things that they aren't, and inflate their own ego to a point where it cannot survive contact with reality.

How much control do you feel you have over your characters?

I feel very in control, actually! I have moments of They Would Not Fucking Say That sometimes when I'm trying to get from A to B, and things do go off the rails if I'm not careful, but usually, if I bend the circumstances correctly, my characters do what I need them to do.

On Writeblr Engagement

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account?

I'm very careful about following new people and scope blogs out thoroughly. If a blog is mostly original writing, either by the blog owner or by other people, through tag games, excerpts etc, I like the writing style, and the WIPs sound cool, then I'm likely to follow. Bonus points if someone leaves a lot of nice tags or comments.

What makes you decide against following?

In no particular order: when a blog has a lot of writing un-related reblogs aka when it's mixed use and not exclusively a writeblr, when it's mostly memes about Not writing, and when the WIPs don't sound like something I'd like to read.

I really don't care for the majority of fantasy, y'all, sorry :( I follow one or two blogs who write it, and write it really well, but if it's sprawling epic fantasy, good against evil, chosen one, holy war type of stuff, it's just not my jam. I have sat through way too much Game of Thrones against my will.

[kanmom51]

Hi i saw your post about jikook filming and taking pictures of e/o thru the years...i started tearing up a lil bit.

i'm kinda mad at all the jikook blogs that keeps appearing in my feed lately i'm not following any of them but i do follow the #jikook tag, i even blocked some out of anger because they keep saying jikook are distanced and shit over what exactly? because no new SNS media of the two of them for the past few days??? i admit it's a jikook drought but isn't y'all reaction too much? can't we just appreciate their bond without speculating and speaking for their bond without knowing absolutely nothing that's going on in their lives rn? we don't know shit! and that's it! but if there's ANYthing i'm damn sure about it's jimin and jungkook and their love.

i'm really in need of some wholesome jikook accounts that celebrate sweet and lovely jikook moments, i'm new to tumblr so i'm kinda lost...so i followed you ^v^ you seem like a very adorable and fun mom hehe i think i like your space a lot <3

have a good day!!!

Thank you for your kind words @tinygoo  and welcome to my blog.

💜💜

I kind of feel like maybe not all, but most of the 'jikook blogs' that are talking about them being distant were either not jikook blogs to start with or are more about the shipping and not supporting, expecting or feeling owed the content (like these are two puppets and not actual humans living their day to day lives).

I kind of feel like those that talk about them being distant are mostly young and immature with zero to no good loving and long term relationship experience.

But there are also MANY trolls utilizing this insecurity (which I for one don't get anymore - it comes in waves, it is always proven to be wrong time after time, and still it doesn't seem to go away). They hide as supposed jikook blogs or call themselves ex-jikookers, but they were never believers or supporters of the couple to begin with, and you can see it if you stay around long enough and read all their posts or comments. For the life of me, I do not understand people wasting their time and energy to try and convince people that a certain pair are not a couple, not a couple anymore or were never a couple. Like, I believe that JM and JK are a couple. Do I go to TKK accounts and try to convince them TKK aren't a couple, or try to convince them that Jikook are? Nope. I just don't get it.

This story of distant Jikook has been going on for exactly a year now. Starting when they got back from LA.

All while it was the exact same situation - not seeing them together, not having them to interact AT ALL on SM. stories of them being distant, them breaking up, JK cheating on JM, JM being with a new lover, and it goes on and on and on. All total bullshit. All totally baseless made up fanfics. All because people just cannot see them as two normal (yet super talented and successful) human beings actually having a normal long term loving relationship.

And every single time it gains traction, it's proven wrong by their behaviour with each other, things they say or do or even things we hear from other members (cough Hobi cough).

As you said: "we don't know shit". Not what they are doing workwise (apart from a vague knowledge JM is working on his album), what they are doing in their spare time, who they are spending their time with at work and in their free time (out and about or at home).

There is sooooooo much Jikook content, and although I'd love to get some new content, I do understand their need to stay private and silent at the moment.

So, why not enjoy what they have given us up to this point?

Anyway, I'm babbling away here. Lovely to have you onboard. Hope you enjoy the content in this blog, I will do my best to continue to add more and more in the new year too (I feel like it helps with missing them so much).

And I will take this opportunity to wish you and all my readers Happy new year. 💜💜  

[alvfr]

can i ask how long have you been writing? it blows my mind how good it is. you are very gifted and we’re all so lucky to get to read your works for free and i really hope you publish something big one day

also do you have any tips for new writers? i’ve been writing intermittently for some time but i still find it so hard not to compare myself and get bummed out or discouraged when there’s writing like yours out there 💔

Ps: I’m loving all the snippets of everything you’ve posted. keep up!

Oh, probably forever? I mean, I was making up stories before I could write and made small books by hand before I could type and I remember using my grandfather's clunky old laptop to painstakingly write my first "real" stories after I started school.

I started writing in English when I was probably 12-13 years old though and I'm 30 now so it's been a while. I posted some stuff on Quizilla back in the day (which oddly wasn't fanfic, but original stories), and I posted my first story on FFN when I was around 20 years old I think?

I go through periods of time where I write a lot and then I don't write at all for a while, mostly because real life gets in the way or something drains my creative energy. Like I couldn't write more than one sentence at a time the first year after I had my baby. Not because I didn't have time, but because the baby took all my focus and I did not have anything leftover to be creative.

Anyway, I think my best tip for new writers is just to write a lot. Like allow yourself to practice, to be bad, to experiment, to learn - just like you would any other hobby, you know? I have posted more than 1 million words on AO3, but I probably have more than twice that much that I'm never going to post that's just collecting dust in my dropbox. And that's fine! It's just practice!

Right now, I'm trying to re-learn how to write in my own language again (Norwegian) because it sounds awkward and weird to my ears and that is probably because I haven't written in Norwegian since I left high school - I need to practice.

Also, be careful comparing your first draft with someone else's finished product. I don't spend too much time editing my fanfics (because it takes the fun out of it and I never make progress), but even I re-read my writing a few times and change phrasings here and there to make it flow better. I personally like to read everything out loud (making funny voices during dialogue) to catch if it flows how I want it to flow.

Another tip is to read a lot. Preferably published books, but fanfiction too. I'm a bit weird here because I can't read fanfiction for the fandom I'm writing for and that is just because I know I will start to compare myself to others and be discouraged, just like you mentioned. Both when it comes to writing style and level of engagement. I mean, some fics have 1000s of notes or kudos/comments and I start wondering how bad my writing is because it doesn't get the same response. At one point, I almost wished someone would post a bad review of my story because it would have felt better than the complete radio silence I received. Truth is, I think engagement is mostly related to coincidence. Summaries, tags and format matters, of course, but after that it's just down to luck. If you're lucky, your story will find its readers and if you're especially lucky, those readers will let you know that they liked it :)

I'm wary of reading nothing but fanfiction though because we fanfic writers tend to get influenced by each other and use a lot of the same expressions, I think. There's a reason I never have characters smirk, chuckle or hum anymore because I'm still traumatized by how much I used that when I started writing. It's bad enough with how much eyebrow quirking and raising I manage to add in a single story. Also when it comes to characterizations, I try to stay true to the source material, but it's easy to mistake fanon for canon when you read too much of the same stuff.

Sorry, this got super long. I'm just sorry to hear that you're discouraged, especially because I am the exact same way when it comes to comparing myself to others. We are our own worst critics, but I highly encourage you to keep writing! I cringe when I look back at my first stories, but I would never have improved if I hadn't written those stories in the first place :)

[just-missunderst00d]

I've had this blog for who knows how long and I never wrote a text post to pin lol so here we go...

Hi! My name's Jess, I'm from Argentina and here's a few things about me:

✨ AFAB, bisexual. She/her pronouns. Don't really mind when or if people use they/them.

✨ I'm in my 20s (easier than to update every year, though who says I'm getting older 👀).

✨ Italian and Spanish heritage. My grandpa (born in Sicily) says there's some Turkish on his mother's side, and maybe some Viking/Normandie sprinkle lots of quotes on the last one.

✨ In case you haven't noticed already, I have ADHD. Went undiagnosed for 25 years so yea, that was fun. I also struggle with depression and anxiety.

✨ Intersectional feminist. Pro choice. BLACK LIVES MATTER. TRANS RIGHTS ARE HUMAN RIGHTS. GUN CONTROL. FREE HEALTHCARE. FREE EDUCATION.

✨ FREE PALESTINE 🇵🇸

✨ I wasn't raised a socialist, I found Spend Rich Money dot com at a formative age and that did the trick.

✨ I've been studying witchcraft and the occult for almost 10 years now and I'm a practicing (ish) pagan since mid 2022. Started working with Odin and Freyja. Tried avoiding Loki for a while but it was futile, the chaotic energy was too strong, and they were SO persistent. They even took my partner's appearance in a dream.

✨ I have 5 tattoos, for now. I used to have a piercing on my ring finger. It was awesome, until I almost yanked it out and then it wasn't. Now I have two small scars on my finger as a reminder of my youthful stupidity.

✨ EAT THE RICH.

✨ Elder emo, turned goth babe. I very much enjoy horror movies, loud metal music, playing videogames and taking photos of pretty much anything. Specially food. I love food. Love cooking and baking.

✨ Yes, I'm a kitchen witch. And I'm also a Taurus, how did you know? Taurus sun, Piscis moon and Capricorn rising.

✨ I can't whistle and I hate cheese.

✨ Did I already mention that I LOVE football? Actual football, not the abomination the U.S. citizens call "football". No, I refuse to call them the A-word. America is a whole continent. Argentinian who loves football!? shocking I know. My favorite football club is Club Altético River Plate, a.k.a, El Millonario (the Millionaire) ironic, I know. Us fans are either called Millonarios/Millos or Gallinas (🐔) . Proud to be called any. Still, EAT THE RICH.

✨ LOTR and D&D kinda nerd. I can recite 90% of LOTR Fellowship of The Ring extended version BY HEART. It's my comfort film, alongside with Scream. I read The Hobbit as a teen, long before the movies (which ignoring a few CGI malfunctions blew my mind, you can fight me).

✨ I can kinda sing a little.

This is getting too long so here's me, because I don't think I show my face here very often:

Old pic from last summer (jan-feb 2023).

Anyways, if you made it this far, you might as well follow me. I reblog lots of artsy stuff and some witch tips. All pics I post are mine and tagged #me or #mine. If otherwise, credits are always given. DON'T STEAL PEOPLE'S ART. And that includes AI generated images.

Lastly:

THIS IS A SAFE, INTERSECTIONAL, FEMINIST SPACE.

NO TERFS, NO RACISTS, NO FASCISTS, NO BIGOTS ALLOWED PAST THIS POINT.

May you have the day you deserve ✨

-J

[liz-allyn]

shudder; part 6/6 [agent mobius x reader]

Series Summary: Pre-Loki series. You are one of the most dangerous variants the TVA has ever recovered, but Mobius knows what makes you tick. Five times he made you shudder, and the one time you returned the favor.

Words: 4.4k

Chapter Warnings/Tags: smut, language, soft daddy kink, sex in otherwise unsanitary conditions, writer's horribly pathetic attempt at dirty talk

A/N: Here it is guys. I struggled with this chapter a lot, also mad respect for gn!writers. I don't think I succeeded in keeping it neutral (welcoming feedback on how I can improve) so I removed that tag.

You watched a small fire crackle in the darkness of an elevator shaft, being used as a chimney. Rain spilled down the walls, running over old steel and concrete, but at least you were no longer in it.

Once you had had the strength to move off the beach, you found a footpath scaling up the face of the cliff which led to an abandoned mining post.

The population of Olympus-V had steady decline for decades, either by migration, poverty, or famine. The planet had been practically barren for years, save for some mining operations to squeeze the last of the planet’s natural resources.

It was in one of those posts where you were now taking refuge with Mobius. You sat on the ground near the elevator shaft, your clothes still soaked, while Mobius fiddled around with building a fire. You wrapped your arms tightly around yourself and tried to keep your teeth from chattering.

“You know how many centuries it took early man on Earth to figure out fire?” Mobius mused as he tended to the flames. “I mean, it’s not a competition or anything, but other civilizations had it down in like a few decades, max.”

You rolled your eyes miserably. “I got him killed, you know,” you replied, not having the energy to follow Mobius into another one of his “fun-facts-about-history” rabbit holes. You’d been quiet for a while, with Mobius having to hold both ends of the conversation. The grim tone in your voice gave him pause.

“The new guy,” you clarified, your tone flat as you spoke of your deceased partner. The last time you and Mobius had spoken, he had sang his praises. “It was only our fourth mission together and he’s dead. Because of me.”

Mobius sighed and turned away from you, “That’s one interpretation.” He dropped another piece of coal into the flame and came to a stand. “Or,” he added, “you could say he was a great analyst who made rational, competent choices and was working with the best data he had. The fact that he trusted you doesn’t make him any less responsible for the outcome.”

He idly wiped his hands on his pants, carrying on and providing no harbor for your self-pity, “I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

“No. You wouldn’t.” Your tone was icy. “Because you weren’t there.” You glared at him from across the smallish room you were huddled in, bitterness souring your voice. “You sent me away, remember?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, rolling his head slightly. “I had no other choice,” he parroted the same old response.

That wasn’t an answer that satisfied you. At all.

“Why?” you bit back with a mocking tone, coming to a quick stand. You pulled no punches. “Because the TVA told you to? Because if the Time Lords—”

“—Time Keepers—”

“—Time Fascists,” you hissed, “think that I have a crush on you, they'll zap me out of my useless existence?”

He glanced over at you, smirking with his head tilted slightly. He replied with a voice as sweet as caramel, “Are you saying you have a crush on me?”

Your shoulders dropped. “You’re insufferable.” You turned away, wishing you could find a different mine.

“Hey, considering my recent valiant and heroic efforts to rescue you,” he replied, “you’d think you’d be a little nicer to me.” You let out an exhausted sigh, but he kept going - cool as a cucumber. “I thought we had a thing going there. I mean - first, you kiss me—”

You spun on your heel. “Kiss you!?” you scoffed.

“Yeah,” he drawled. “On the beach.”

“I was resuscitating you!” you argued. “You call that a kiss?”

He shrugged innocently, a sparkle in his eyes. “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything,” he responded matter-of-factly. “But, uh, yeah - it was a little underwhelming.”

He grinned slyly. You wanted to simultaneously melt into him and burn him alive. You scoffed, shaking your head incredulously.

“What was the point?” you exclaimed. “What’s the point of rescuing me if I’m nothing but a - a tool? A blunt hammer for the TVA to snuff out anyone that steps out of line?”

The pain in your voice was unmistakable, and Mobius dropped his playful banter.

“You think I’ve enjoyed spending the last - however long it's been - hopping around the timeline hunting people who are no different than me?” Your heart ached with every word, “You think I enjoy killing?”

“No,” he answered, weighed with guilt, “I don’t.”

Your rage flared. “Then why won’t you just let me go!?”

“I can’t,” he quietly explained, eyes cast down. He wouldn’t even look at you.

Fuck this infuriatingly charming, cowardly little TVA sheep-whore.

You felt the venom pooling on your tongue. “God! You’re such a company man, aren’t y—”

“I can’t!” he raised his voice in a way that you’d never heard before, stunning you into silence. He lifted his gaze and looked at you solemnly, his expression filled with regret. His words were weak, broken - barely above a whisper. “...Let you go.”

You stared blankly at him, reading the tragedy written on his features. With his defenses down, you could clearly see every word: I don’t want to let you go. I need you, forever. You are mine and I am yours and nothing else makes sense beyond that. I’d do anything to keep you safe.

Were those his thoughts, or yours? You didn’t know anymore.

Mobius reached up quickly and loosened his tie, before deftly undoing the buttons of his shirt.

You were staring like a deer in the headlights. “Wha-Wai-what are you doing?” you blurted uncomfortably with a furrowed brow.

He rolled his eyes. “Not catching hypothermia, if that’s alright with you,” he snarkily said as he pulled off his jacket and shirt, revealing a soaked white undershirt beneath. You remembered that you both were freezing and wet. “I’m drying my clothes by the fire. We still have 10 hours and 23 minutes until we hit the radiation peak.”

Ah yes, you had almost forgotten.

Ten hours until the end of the world, or at least of Olympus-V. And because Mobius’ TempPad was unbelievably conveniently out of juice, and unable to open another Time Door, you were pretty sure you had about the same amount of time left to exist.

Mobius confidently felt otherwise. He rattled on some jargon about needing a massive source of energy to power the TempPad - something about electromagnetic waves, solar bursts, radiation of a dying star, the “sweet spot” between a steady charge and a gruesome death. You honestly stopped listening back at the beach.

You were too busy questioning his motives and your own. Were you happy that Mobius was trapped with you, about to be swallowed by the sun? Or were you furious that he idiotically ran right into an apocalypse and now you both were going to die.

He quipped that at least that technically made him a hero; maybe he’d get a plaque in the TVA cafeteria. You would’ve made some kind of cheeky comeback, but you were already dying inside at that devastating thought.

“Not to be too forward, but you should probably do the same,” Mobius added, bringing you back to the present situation where he was undressing in front of you. “You’re shaking like a chihuahua right now.”

You were about to question the puzzling thought of him being in a place in time to observe a chihuahua, but then he pulled his wet t-shirt over his head. You turned your gaze away reflexively as soon as you spotted human flesh.

Here you were - former soldier, mercenary, and spy, and fearsome hunter of the Time Variance Authority - blushing like a shrinking violet. It’s not that he didn’t have a point, it was just--fuck, he’s undoing his belt— is this real life right now?

“Don’t worry,” he scoffed flippantly. “I’ll even turn my back to preserve your innocence and sanctity.”

He was being facetious but it made you wonder if he had any idea how un-sanctified you were. Your eyes widened at the thought: Did he watch that on the highlight reel too?

Now he was pulling his slacks off, and you were tracking in real time again. He kept his promise and had his back to you, allowing you the privacy to undress. And you did.

You peaked over your shoulder to see him lay his clothes out in front of the flames. He dragged over an old canvas tarp he’d found - pieces of which he’d stripped off for kindling - and moved it to a safe proximity from the fire. He sat down in the middle of the tarp, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around him.

And he kept his underwear on - boxer briefs, you’d called it - not that you were trying to look below his waist or anything.

Once he was at rest, he rubbed his hands over his bare arms to create friction. You mirrored his steps one-by-one, until you were also sitting in your underwear on the canvas with your bare backs inches apart.

You both were quiet for a long time, facing opposite directions, surrounded by the cold darkness, and the sound of trickling water. You could still hear the waves thrashing and the rain bartering on the rocks outside. The crackle of the fire - the way the flame danced and dimly lit your surroundings, brought you a sense of peace. It was almost... romantic. Even if it was the end of the world.

“I know this is my fault,” Mobius declared, breaking the silence. You could hear struggle in his voice. “I know I was supposed to stay within my lane. My purpose is to preserve and protect the timeline, and that’s it, it’s just....” He sighed, and you listened carefully, hanging on his words. Was this doubt?

It sounded like he was trying to understand himself. “Something’s different now,” he explained, with a little bit of wonder and fear. “When we’re together, I feel… like I’m someone else. And I’m not who I was before. Before you.”

You quietly listened, thinking about how much you identified with what he was saying.

“My head is telling me it’s all wrong,” he said, “that I’m making a mistake. That I’m playing with fire.” His next thoughts brought the tiniest grin to his otherwise grim voice. “When I’m with you… I feel like a dope… Reckless.” The smile faded as his thoughts sobered him. “Dangerous.”

In the silence that followed, you wondered again whose thoughts you were hearing - his or yours.

“How can something that feels so right be wrong?” he mused openly - for you, the Time Keepers, and all the Sacred Timeline - to hear.

The question that hung heavy in the air had such a clear answer, of which you were certain. Your mind raced trying to think of how to respond, how to explain. You simply couldn’t find the words.

So you turned your body towards him. You reached over Mobius’ shoulder gently to cup the side of his face, and pulled him into a kiss.

It was slow and chaste, projecting every intention and emotion that you lacked the words to describe. Each time you moved your lips, you took another breath; you wrote another line of your love letter to him. He sank deeper into your kiss, as your souls tangled and caught fire.

And then you felt it.

You were positioned behind him, with his back to your chest when a burst of lightning crawled up his spine. A desperate shudder racked his body. He pulled away from you breathlessly, his eyes closed, as you both panted and glowed with the heat of the moment.

“If I didn’t know any better,” your lips curled into a sultry smile, “I’d say I was making you nervous.”

He opened his dark bronze eyes at that, drinking you in. He couldn’t help but mirror your mischievous smirk. In an instant, he snatched you up and pulled you onto his lap. You kissed him hungrily, straddling him, as his hands glided over your body.

Your mind went foggy, as any composure you had in the situation was evaporating. His lustful kisses scorched your skin as they traveled down your neck. He lifted you higher so that he could drink more of you in. You gasped and sighed at how your body reacted to him, your fingers digging into his scalp. He groaned with pleasure as he found your open mouth again, your tongue a welcoming partner.

He pulled you in tighter, your hips grinding further into him. You felt his want, hard against your body, and you felt the last of your innocence pooling between your legs. The friction made you let out an un-sanctified moan, breaking away from his kiss. The sound of your voice intoxicated him.

You were in a controlled descent backwards as he lowered you to your back.

When did you start trembling? Has it really been that long since your last time?

Your hands danced across his chest, triggering goosebumps. Even his skin wanted you. You writhed beneath him as he positioned himself between your legs. You were bursting like a firecracker with anxious need. Your hands groped him, nails gently grazing - traveling down his torso and beneath the waistband of his boxers.

He gasped as your fingers wrapped around his organ, fluttering his eyes shut at your touch. You were on autopilot, your physical need in command of your body, as you attempted to pull his stiff erection from his boxers.

Mobius snatched your hands and you froze. He pulled your arms up, grasping your hands tightly, and pinned your wrists to the floor on either side of your head. You were hit with a wave of confusion, followed by shame.

Maybe you’d read this wrong. You looked up at him, half-expecting to read an expression of disgust.

What you found was the opposite.

His eyes— gentle, dark, and focused intently on you— telegraphed a message for you to read carefully:

You were not the one in control here.

You felt the wind of butterflies deep in your core as you realized he had clear goals for you in mind. He was asking you - imploring you - for command of your body. For the record, he already had it - whether or not either of you were conscious of it.

You lay still, save for your chest’s gentle movements, as his eyes unravelled the layers of your being. Trapped in his gaze, you were stripped bare in more than just flesh.

You were time travelling again - years into the past. The pages of your chapters fell away, until you felt like a pupil again, watching your master navigating the geography of your body.

His grip softened, giving your palms an affectionate squeeze before he released your hands. His leering gaze was already gliding down your valleys, and his hands followed, letting his fingertips brush the delicate flesh of your forearms as they travelled.

All your mind could do to focus was count your every breath as his touch and kisses grazed your skin. You wondered how long it had been for him. You quivered at the thought of him planning this moment.

He took time tasting you with each kiss - down your chest, your belly, the crest of your hips. You lifted your core with his encouragement, allowing him to pull away your last remaining piece of clothing. You were finally unveiled before him. He sighed softly, mind buzzing, as he delicately spread your legs apart.

He moved so slowly with intention, relishing each moment. You were on the verge of losing it and he had yet to touch your most sensitive areas. He could feel your hips squirm with anticipation.

“I want you,” he pacified you, “more than anything.” He tenderly kissed the inside of your thigh. “But I need to know that you want this too. Without a doubt in your mind.”

You were desperate by this point, way past “willing.” Regardless, he met your eyes, waiting patiently for your consent.

You were consumed with lust. “Please,” you stuttered in passionate exhilaration. You could barely recognize your own voice, “You can do anything you want to me.”

His face twitched into a sinful smirk. “I know.” There was that confidence again. “But that’s not what I asked.” He steadied his composure and fixed himself in your sights once again. You gazed at him with a more sobered expression, giving this moment the respect he wanted.

He watched your lips now that he had your attention. “Tell me you want me to make you feel good,” he seductively implored. “Tell me you want me to take you, here and now. I need to hear you say yes.”

The way he asked for your consent could’ve put you over the edge by itself.

“Yes,” you practically moaned under your breath. It was a sinful, thirsty plea. “God, yes, please. I want you to touch me.”

That ignited his fuse.

He lowered to his elbows, positioning his arms beneath your legs. His mouth was on you, leaving you aghast at the force. It was like he wanted more than just to please you - he relished in devouring you, like a frozen dessert on a hot summer day. You jolted and gasped, more from surprise than pain. He took note anyway, and steadied his animalistic pace.

It wasn’t long until your eyes were rolled in the back of your head. You were thunderstruck, arching your body and moaning with ecstasy.

The way his name sounded each time it sprang from your lips made him drunk. Every time you uttered it, you felt him tense and groan. It was a perpetual cycle. Your hips would reflexively buck from the intense pleasure and he would just hold on tighter. He forced your thighs apart as you encouraged him to unleash more rapture on your body.

This was not a particularly new position for you, but it was good. You weren’t sure where he got the experience, but he was really, really good.

And if “Sacred-you”— “NC-17-rated,” “parental-advisory-warning-labelled” badass-you—could just see yourself now: writhing on the floor while being laid out by an older man, one whom you’d rarely seen out of a brown suit and tie. You didn’t think this man knew how to fire a gun before, but you were practically mewling for him like a kitten.

And god, he really seemed to enjoy it.

You warned him that you couldn’t last much longer. You felt the tension building inside. You wanted desperately to satisfy him, to feel him inside of you, to have him enraptured with you. But unless he slowed down, you were going to lose it right here with his mouth on you. You knew he had needs, and you began to plead with him to let you fulfill them.

You pushed down on his shoulders, begging him to let you have a turn. He pulled away, pausing only briefly.

“Uh uh,” he chastised you with a wicked grin. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

He was back on you before you could reply, this time reaching two of his fingers into your core.

Your head dropped backwards at the sensation, and now you were obscenely begging him for more. You’d happily given up any attempt at controlling what happened next, focusing solely on the nuclear fission in your body.

You blossomed for him as his fingertips pulsed on the most sensitive flesh inside inside you. Muscles you didn’t even remember you had repeatedly contracted. He impurely hummed and he lapped greedily at the fruit of his labor.

You were gasping for air, beaded with sweat, as you came down from your high. He leaned over you to witness the sunset of your orgasm. Eyes full of lust, he pulled himself free of his boxers and discarded them as he watched you.

When you glanced down to see the stunning sight of his stimulation, it re-electrified you. You pulled yourself into a sitting position on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your legs straddled him eagerly as he lifted your hips over his member.

The erotic sound you both made as you slid down his shaft was sinful enough to cast you both into hell. You kissed him, open-mouthed, and tasted yourself on his tongue. Now that you were on top of him, wrapped around him, he seemed more frantic and less calculated with his movement.

He was gazing up at you like a lustful teenage boy, letting himself be taken by passion. “God...” he whispered, suddenly less skilled with words. “You feel so... ah!... s-so beautiful...”

“You’re so hard…stretching me so tight,” you groaned into his mouth, and he growled in agreement, nodding his head.

He broke away from the kiss, “God - yes, ah, you’re s-so tight, baby...” You grinned excitedly as you climbed and descended his length. You moaned like a porn star as you rode him.

“I can call you that, can’t I?” he said through his own breathless moans. You glanced at him in confusion. He looked concerned. His hands braced your hips as you continued your movement. “Is that okay?”

“Wha-what?”

“The pet name,“ he explained through sighs, “B-Baby? I-I don’t want it to sound de-demeaning, or... patronizing—”

Okay. Now he was overthinking it.

“It’s fine,” you urged him to move on, growing more frustrated, but now he was babbling nervously.

“I could call you something else—”

“—don’t care—”

“—’s’important to me that you know I respect you, and I’d never—”

“I don’t care, I—You can call me whatever you want. Please, daddy… Just— fuck me…”

You crashed your lips on his, but felt his breath hitch as he tensed you immediately. You either said something very right, or very wrong. The sex had all but come to a screeching halt, as you reluctantly met his eyes.

He gazed at you thoughtfully, gears turning.

Timidly, you searched his face for judgment, for any sign of disapproval, but instead, there was a look of almost— awe.

You watched the change in him as the devil overtook him. His eyes turned three shades darker, pooling with lust. His expression of wonder melted into a devious smile. Your dirty talk awakened something in him, like he was remembering a long-forgotten visceral part of himself.

He scooped you up and laid you on your back again, pulling himself out of your body. You only had a brief time to revolt, until he sat up on his knees and he lifted one of your thighs up, pulling your leg over his shoulder. You watched curiously trying to figure out what he was doing, until he gripped your hips and pulled you downward— over his shaft.

You let out a painfully delicious cry as he bottomed out inside of you. He hungrily watched your expressions and relished in the sound of your moans.

His hand braced the inside of your other thigh, holding your legs open so that you were spread at the right angle for him. As soon as he began to thrust, you were done for.

You groaned with ecstasy. “That’s... it..,” he praised you, eliciting more cries from you.

There were no more performances. There was no more pageantry. No more room for pretending to be anyone other than who you are.

You were coming undone for him, and he watched every moment. Every dirty thought and fantasy you ever had might as well have been written on your body. He studied each line.

“Oh god, Mobius—yes,” you babbled as you squirmed.

“Yeah?” he breathed, teasingly. “Does that feel good?” You nodded frantically.

Sweat beaded down his chest as his hands roamed to find your sweet spot, and another desperate wave of ‘yes’s flooded out from your lips.

“What did you call me?” he enticed, his mouth watering for your response. “What name did you call me before?” You were struggling with words, but he wouldn’t stop until he coaxed the right one from you.

“Say it.”

You tangled your fingers in your scalp, turning your head away. He thrust into your hips a little deeper, and you cried out obscenely.

“Say it,” he repeated, more firmly this time. “I wanna hear you say it again. I wanna watch you say it to me.”

More lewd noises dropped out of your mouth, as you propped yourself up on your elbows. “Yes, please, I love what’re… doing t’ me… I need it, daddy…”

He groaned with a lecherous smile, biting his lip. “You are so good for me.”

Lust was dripping from each word as he drew them out. His honeyed, Southern accent had returned. His eyes were blown black as he cooed with praise, “You make me wanna be so bad.”

You were gone after that. Your head tilted back, crying out through another climax. He could hear his own voice—that’s it that’s it—moaning in the distance somewhere, but he was enthralled with your little pleas. The tones of your voice washed over him; he used them to quell the blaze inside.

He knew everything he wanted to do to you, and everything you wanted him to do. And he couldn’t get past the feeling, as he buried himself deeper inside of you, that this was all... familiar.

This picture of you, spread out gloriously beneath him, was impossibly familiar. He imagined a bed that wasn’t his own, and light blue cotton sheets that couldn’t have been his, and the sunlight peeking from a sheer curtain, and falling across the ecstasy-filled face of his lover that he couldn’t have ever married...

That was....you.

Your voice was echoing in Mobius’ head. You whined and whimpered, glowing with passion, signaling that you were moments away from your climax. And then he was here - on Olympus-V with you, and he felt you tighten and flutter around him.

The sight of you, writhing beneath him as you reached orgasm, pulled a deep moan from his chest. White hot light flooded his vision. His body jerked and reacted in unison, filling you with his seed.

For someone for whom time had little meaning, he was now obsessed - trying to catch and hold back each fleeting moment. He leaned forward, his body spent, and you pulled his chin down into a longing kiss.

His mind was spinning. His lungs were still taking deep breaths. He pulled away slowly and rested his forehead on yours, his eyes closed as he struggled to make sense of what was real and what was a dream.

“I could never let you go,” he declared, deep in contemplation. You didn’t quite understand the connection in the present moment. You didn’t remember.

“Then stay with me,” was your gentle reply.

He gazed once again into your eyes with a knowing smile. “Always.”

A/N: And I'm leaving it there. For now. Please reblog with feedback, or send me a message on your thoughts. This is my first attempt at writing in a long, long time. Also it's my first attempt at smut so be nice with your feedback :-)

THANK YOU to all of you for your wonderful comments. Please reblog for support!

@generalhugzzz @isaxbella749 @yodaboo @aloyssia @simsiddy @coloursforyourportrait

[help-im-a-gay-fish]

Okay I had to do some stuff, but here I am rambling about relationship between Killer and Nightmare in Colours of LOVE.

Some of this I might mention before some of it might be your and Jann or Yuri ideas... Anyway!! The way I see that:

Even though this is soulmate au Nightmare and Killer aren't perfect fit for eachother. They are perfect fit in threesome - Ccino softens rough edges of both of them, and changes their attention from being mad on eachother to carrying about Ccino together (especially at first when he is really depressed). But before that... It was hard.

Killer is really open about everything he thinks and feels. If he founds someone who is attractive he will flirt. Even when he is already dating Nightmare. And also he always shows his affection to Nightmare everywhere, in public too. That's cute and sweet, but Nightmare is really closed person so that makes him really uncomfortable. Night often got jealous with Killer flirting with anyone else, got embarrassed with his kisses and all on public, and in general is a bit annoyed with Killer's actions. Killer on the other hand doesn't really understand why Nightmare is so "tensed" (he is not, Night is just much more calm, but Killer don't get it).

They were braking up and coming back again a few times, because they had argued a lot about everything and got tired of this. Right now they are on their "best days" - they started to date again a few weeks ago and right now they are through some stuff, they understand eachother better, and pretty chill about eachother weird actions. Like in the second page Night is a bit flustered by Killer's kiss but he almost used to that. Same as he is worried about being late, since Killer is almost always late, but he is more or less fine by that. On next page (which you haven't seen yet), there are an interesting dialog between them, and I will definitely write some of "subtext" about it when I will post it.

Actually if they haven't met Ccino they would break up again after a few months. And maybe come back again after a week.

Also! Interesting thing about third soulmate: at the beginning of the comic (before Nigh met Ccino) Killer is 100% sure that they have third soulmate, but Nightmare is sure for about 60%. Killer is existed about that, he knew knew that he is polyamorious for a long time, but Nightmare hesitates a lot, because he can't really imagine himself in polyam relationship. It feels weird and also he is soooooo jealous about Killer paying any attention to anyone except him, that he worries to become "third wheel". Will it be different with Ccino?? Who knows (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

Hi kotikaleo!!! This was super fun to read.

Firstly I'm going to tag @zu-is-here since she started the studio verse

It's definitely an interesting insight to your comic and the characters!

It reminds me a lot of an early version of my own ideas about the studio verse nightkiller relationship! And I can definitely see the way we have bounced headcannons of each other paying off.

Them still dealing with a softer kind of lovehate dynamic is an interesting one. It doesn't seem to be as extreme as my version, but it's interesting that it's still there.

The fact that they are meant to work as a 3 makes sense as well. If they are supposed to be bounded as a 3 it makes sense that three they their relationship would be unstable. They don't work as a two, but they are soul mates and something would always pull the two of them together.

I'm also curious, since Nightmare isn't 100% sure that the lack of colour is due to them being soul mated to another person. I wonder if he ever felt like the universe got it wrong? And that he'd been mated to the wrong person? Or perhaps he felt it meant that him and Killer don't have soul mates and that's why they have some connections.

It sad boy.

Also if Killer knows he's poly by nature, is that something that causes disagreements with the 2 of them?

And now for mine and @jann-the-bean version.

This story has been something that we mostly developed in tumbler DMs but both me and Jan wrote a story about it. Jan wrote

KillerNight(s)

And I'm writing

Round and round till we all fall down

Nightmare and Killer's relationship started off baddddd, it basically started as a mutual dislike for one another. This is due to their conflicting personalities and morals.

Nightmare was originally quite excited to meet Killer, as he'd heard a lot about the actor. But almost straight away he found Killer to be rude, childish and irritating. Killer found Nightmare to be stuck up, snobbish and entitled.

The two first met at an awards ceremony and got into a yelling match after a few drinks and were separated. From there their dislike for one another was made quite well known to the public because of a social media battle back and forth.

This only went on for a few months however, as the characters of 'Killer' and 'Nightmare' were cast to play together.

Nightmare and Killer agreed to be civil in order to function while working and get the filming completed as soon as possible.

As they worked together, their dislike turned into a playful banter and respect for one another. And then something else shifted.

Now Killer has a reputation for being a player and one who likes to sleep around, as you said, he's open about his interest in people when he has it and enjoys casually flirting with just about anyone.

Which came to include Nightmare.

Nightmare paid no mind to it really, though he couldn't understand why it embarrassed him so much.

Killer comes to find Nightmare to be very attractive and enjoys his reactions when teased, he rights him off though because he was under the impression that Nightmare was straight, and he'd never try to change that.

It was a day when they were talking about Killer's eyes and how it's caused him to struggle, that Nightmare tells him that he thinks his eyes are very pretty and that they are an attractive quality, and something in Killer breaks and he kisses him.

So Killer feels like he messed up and the two avoid each other. But it causes Nightmare to start questioning things about himself.

Nightmare at this point had only every dated women. He assumed that he was straight. But after that kiss a lot of buried feelings are dragged to the surface and exposed, and he realises that he's also attracted to men.

So Jan goes into full details about this, in the fic Killernights, but basically Nightmare confronts Killer about the kiss and Killer tells him he 'has a thing for him'

The two go back to Killer's flat to talk, but their normal banter, leads to flirting and then another kiss. And Nightmare who is curious and suddenly craving new sensations becomes lost to him. Killer who finds Nightmare physically very attractive, also gets wrapped up and the two of them sleep together.

Nowwww this is getting long so I'll try to shorten it down a bit.

Basically, it's an amazing night. It's passionate, enjoyable and a lot of fun for both of them. Upon finding out Night has never been with a man, Killer guides him carefully though the process.

After that night the two can't stop thinking about each other, even though they both planned for it to be a one time thing. Again, they avoided each other until talking after a while.

And killer admits his desires for the other, and offers Nightmare a safe environment to experiment with his sexuality, where he won't be judged.

To cut a long story short, this spirals into a passionate and carnal, on and off booty call/fling with each other that spans for years.

Other that time they grow very close with each other, and come to recognise the similarities that they share, and have soft moments of just enjoying being together with one another.

For Killer, Nightmare is the first person to ever tell him he had beautiful eyes and mean it. The first person who wasn't at all put off by them.

To Nightmare, it feels like Killer is the one person that will never pick Dream over him. And he makes him feel wanted and desirable in a way few have before.

However, their are still parts of their relationship that conflict. Of course a healthy relationship will always have some conflicts. But for Killer and Nightmare the conflicts clash and fight with each other.

That along with both of their past traumas, (I wrote about Killer's back story here) means they find it difficult to talk about genuine feelings and what's bothering them. Causing things to bottle up and blow up over time.

They also find it impossible to admit that they actually love each other deeply.

They tried to be in a full on committed relationship once, (which I'm writing about in Round and Round) but it didn't work out for these issues. As well as the fact that Killer is poly by nature, and therefore gets anxious and uncomfortable in a relationship with one person only. Which he won't talk to Night about for the reasons stated above.

Enter Ccino.

Now Ccino is the missing piece for Nightmare and Killer.

He's soft and gentle spoken, which easily helps them calm down when things get heated between them. He also provides a safe and loving space to open up about what things are bothering them.

Nightmare and Killer's also, as you said, spend more energy caring for and sometimes worrying about Ccino, so they have less energy for the constant fighting.

Ccino was the missing piece. He's the person who will cuddle and read books with nightmare, but also the one who's super into affection, which Killer loveesss.

A relationship would never work between just killer and Ccino, since Ccino wouldn't be able to keep up with Killer's libido and killer doesn't know much about Ccino's mental health. And Ccino wouldn't work in a relationship with just Nightmare because Night's colder and more straight forward personality would leave him affection staved after a while.

They just work together! They are basically soul mates in this universe as well!

P. S Nightmare in this universe was also very veryyyyy jealous when Killer showed interest in Ccino. Which is something he took out on Ccino till Killer stopped it. After falling in love with Marshmallow he regrets this a lot.

I'M SO EXCITED FOR MORE. COLOURS OF LOVEEEEE

[yostresswritinggirl]

100 Followers Special

(And how to participate) you don't need to be a follower to vote ack

~yostresswritinggirl

Hello AGAIN, with your back to back followers special! Exiled here, very tired, as I just closed the requests box for our 50 followers special. I asked for some recommendations and no one helped me so this is what I came up with!

Granted, it's nothing that special, I literally just dumped my notes into this so—

Please make sure to follow the guidelines and read this thoroughly to properly participate!

1. You will be given a long list of fic prompts specific to a character that I've come up with for weeks on end, please don't steal, as I will remove them after this event is done!

2. Voting! You now have the power to influence my writing schedule haha- what you need to do: is to pick three prompts from the list and send it to me; either through reblog tag, a reply, or in my ask box (not anon so we can count fairly, will not publish these answers tho so worry not)! Not in messages tho! It should be in this format:

1. Character - prompt or prompt title

2. Character - prompt or prompt title

3. Character - prompt or prompt title

example:

1. Albedo - Citrinitas

2. Zhongli - Braid

3. Xingqui - Author!Reader

The top three most voted prompt and character will be the next fics I'll publish after I'm done with the current reqs. Speaking of: Voting ends when I finish the current reqs. You'll know it's done once the counter in my blog desc reaches 12/12.

3. In addition to the three prompts, you also get to add your own prompt to it! My prompts list does not include ALL the characters that's why I wanted to give you this option too! Add a fourth number and specify a character, a prompt/idea, and the format of the fic! Format it this way:

4. Character - Prompt/Idea (Format)

4. Kaeya - What's under that eyepatch? (Scenario)

After I pooled the answers, I'll randomly pick between the bonus answers and write them last! So give it your best shot!

4. Tags-list! I thought this would be necessary for this kind of a whim special, so if you wanna be tagged, just put Tag Me! at the end of your vote. Please make sure that you're actually able to be tagged because I just tried and some users are not in my orbit huhu, look here

5. If a pocket watch/series prompt gets chosen, I will only post the first chapter, not the whole damn fic pls. Have mercy,,,

I will post a counter of the top three in my blog description and will be updated as frequently as possible. Any questions, please direct to this post or my dms <3

Without further ado, here is your choice list!

Xingqui - "My liege, would you care to accompany me on my reading break? I've picked up a romance novel and it reminded me of us."

-> Author!Reader: You met Xingqui at Wanwen Bookhouse when delivering a batch of your newly-published book. But as a ghost writer, no one knew it was you that authored such books. Safe to say it was cute watching the noble bookworm fanboy about you in front of you. [FLUFF] [FIC]

-> Headcanons with a reader older than Xingqui who's a close family friend of the Feiyun Commerce Guild. Fascinated after meeting you in a party, the noble boy aspires to become the best man for you despite the difference, promising to be the best suitable partner for you in the future. [FLUFF] [HEADCANON SCENARIO]

Childe - "Hey there, comrade! What a coincidence that we had a break at the same time, care to accompany me for a walk? I promise I won’t lead you to a fight haha... hey, don’t look at me like that!”

-> Antinomy -  The 10th Harbinger (You) and the little shit they had to mentor (Childe), this fic enumerates the trials of the 11th before he became a Harbinger under your care. From strangers to mentor to friends to love- Childe made a grave mistake, now you’re once again strangers. [FLANGST] [ONESHOT]

Albedo - "Ah, it's you. I've heard of fleeting rumors that you've been pestering a certain someone just to see me. Next time, just come directly to me, I wouldn't mind the assertiveness."

-> Refer to these three as well: Albedo Fic Ideas [FLUFF/FLANGST/FLANGST] [ONESHOT/ONESHOT/SERIES]

-> “You’re Enough”: A year into being the new Chief Alchemist of Mond, Albedo finds himself holed up in his room in the dead of night, haunted as he continuously comes out empty on his research to bring his master back, feeling inadequate. So you reminded him of what he’s capable of. [FLUFF?] [ONESHOT INSPIRED BY You Are Enough - Sleeping At Last]

-> Under the Artificial Sky: Michaelangelo Scenario focused on Albedo’s sketching aspect. Grand Master Varka and Acting Grand Master Jean figured Albedo needed a break and a change of scenery, and sent him off under the guise of a commission in Liyue. What he didn’t expect was another artist from Fontaine accompanying him in this big project.(Albedo and Reader are tasked to paint the new Jade Chamber within 7 days) [FLUFF] [SERIES - 7 CHAPTERS]

-> Albedo SMUT: I had this idea while laying wide awake at 3 AM. The alchemist had been trying all remedies to shake off the stress and fatigue in his system and they all seemed to fail, no amount of sketching or discoveries can pull him away from it. So when you offered a solution he hasn’t heard, he’d jump at it immediately. “You know, some people say having intercourse with someone is a good stress-reliever.” “Intercourse? If it’s true, then please, I wish to have intercourse with you.” “Wha- wait Albedo, do you not know what that is? It’s only done between lovers!” “Convenient, I love you, anything else?” (Two virgin dumbasses do the thing to relieve stress) [SMUT] [ONESHOT]

Xiao - “I’ve taken care of every threat around this area, you can relax now, I made sure of that.”

-> What is it with you and Qingxin flowers? The Traveler had once heard of Xiao’s affinity for Qingxin flowers, and they’re flying companion boldly asked this lingering question to the adepti himself. His pupils dilate and sharpen before Paimon could finish her sentence. (An origin story about his favorite flower, and his favorite person) [SLIGHT FLANGST] [ONESHOT]

-> Just how harmful is adeptal energy to normal humans? You both found out in the worst way possible: silently, deadly. (Slight spoiler: you fucking die) [ANGST] [ONESHOT]

-> Nightmares Taste Horrible: He’s seen that look in your eyes and the ancient soul within it; you’ve lived long ago, and the only thing your soul carried now was the nightmares of a macabre timeline. Was it him or was it demons that brought you that fear? No matter, he’ll protect you even from yourself. (eating the nightmare of a dead soul reincarnated to you) [FLANGST?] [ONESHOT]

-> Go for the throat: The seal that marked you had made it all too late for him to remedy. Bleeding eyes, growing fangs, it’s just another demon to vanquish just like he’s done for centuries. What makes it different was it was sealed in you. (Inspired from Melanie Martinez’s song uhu) [ANGST] [ONESHOT]

Zhongli - “Mortals are capable creatures that evolve and adapt for means of survival, but they advance in ways that changes the world around them. This retirement, may be harder to me than it is to them.”

 -> “In human history, there’s a certain noble and powerful connotation to rulers who braid their hair.” Convince to braid his hair using some historical braid trivia; that long hair behind his back should not be ignored for any longer. [PURE FLUFF] [DRABBLE]

-> History has its eyes on you: A traveling theatre hailing from the land of entertainment finds its way to Liyue for their last caravan. A certain Geo Vision man seems to resonate with your newest script: fighting and protecting your land, building up its nation, before being forced to let go of it. He resonates maybe a little too much. (Musical!Reader with heavy references to Hamilton hehe) [FLUFF] [ONESHOT]

Venti - "Can you hear the symphonies of the wind as it sings to you? That's me, guiding you and protecting you! Whenever you hear it, know that you're safe and sound under my protection!"

-> the one the bard once loved: like actual bard, you are the archer or smth, loved by Venti and Barbatos. Yandere!Barbatos undertones, very unhealthy relationship. This hurts the kokoro. [PURE ANGST] [ONESHOT]

-> The Caravan: (related to the Zhongli and Musical!Reader up there) Your caravan stops at Mondstadt for a whole week before it reaches its final destination. This new fanfare pulled in a peculiar bard who now wants to tag along for the fun of it. "I have no more responsibilities in this free land!" Just what kind of responsibilities does a broke bard have in the first place? [FLUFF] [ONESHOT/HEADCANON]

Diluc - "You look weary, and you still managed to pull yourself here. Here, a fresh and cold glass, on the house. A relieved smile should be enough payment."

-> Abandoned by The Altar: A timeline oriented story focused on your once perfect childhood relationship as Diluc's bride to be, soon becoming estranged after the death of his father and his neglect. You only wish now that he looks at you the same way he did when you heard you were supposed to be together forever when you were young. [FLANFF] (The ending gets better pls; Inspired by Still Into You - Paramore) [ONESHOT]

-> There are No Laws Against Homelessness in Mondstadt: My favorite title out of all of this ahahhaa- who says adventurers can't be broke? You're the living embodiment of that. (Good boi Diluc with a broke ass reader) [FLUFF] (Warning: homelessness) [ONESHOT]

Scaramouche - "Let's go already, the sun is setting and we're nowhere near our destination. If you wanted to linger just to spend more time with me, I would have indulged you behind closed doors anyways."

-> Scaramouche Finally Does the Fandango: Have you ever wondered how Scaramouche is like working with other people? His first assignment was to accompany you in your main region and he sees you in your natural habitat, entranced. [I dunno how to tag this, NORMAL?] [ONESHOT/SHORT]

-> Skincare bitch, how I headcanon Scaramouche as someone actually conscious and always tending to their skin. Look at that smooth skin, cute cheeks, let me pinch, eyeliner glory— In which case, that hat has more purpose than being a frisbee. (May or may not include reader. (based from a reblog convo with chels-void) [GOOD VIBES] [HEADCANONS]

-> Once Supreme: Before Scaramouche, there was someone else higher than him. Before Balladeer there was just a young man fighting for his beliefs and her Majesty. Before Mondstadt, his smile wasn't just for deception. "Someday, someone would take advantage of that smile, Scaramouche. It's not appropriate in this work environment." The day you break a man. (Harbinger!Reader again, and lots of HCs for Scaramouche, same format as Antinomy) [I also do not know how to call this, eventual ANGST] [ONESHOT]

Kaeya - "What are you doing out here in the dead of night? Citizens like you should be cozied up in bed and leaving the patrols to us Knights. Come, I'll accompany you back home."

-> Honey Whiskey: A mysterious band of dancers from Sumeru visits Mondstadt and its taverns to offer a night of alluring dances. What was supposed to be a night of drinking for Kaeya and his troops ended up becoming a tipsy surprise mission when the main dancer steps down from the stage— and ignores him?! How scandalous! (Slightly suggestive themes/You're a bad guy) [COOL?] [ONESHOT] [slightly inspired by song with the same name]

General:

-> A Musical!Reader but with a scenario with every other character, most probably headcanons master post.

-> Genshin Food prompts: From that one post, I ended up making a whole storyline of oneshots related to their special dishes. Oneshots connected to a bigger picture. By impulse you've ended up leaving your normal life behind to pursue your cooking career, starting from Mondstadt, to learn all the cuisines to establish the first ever international restaurant. With the implications of magic and peculiar customers, your simple dream turns into a harder goal. [GOOD SHIT] [SERIES] [CANON-COMPLIANT]

-> God of Time!Reader that hails from Fontaine. Do you wish to know more about their origins and their purpose in this world? [CANON-COMPLIANT] [HEADCANONS] (General since it deals with all the characters/interactions)

▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱▰▱

Tagslist-for-my-thirsty-homies:

[thefabelmans2022]

@servingcunt tagged me in this cute lil ask game, tysm bestie this was so fun!!!!!

why did you choose your url?

inspired by my idol, katerina stratford from the seminal classic film 10 Things I Hate About You

any side-blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them

i have @incorrectamericanvandalquotes which is an incorrect american vandal quotes blog which i have not updated in a very long time, and i have one that i made for an assignment last year that just has a few reblogs and a piece of writing about wuthering heights so if you're at all interested in reading my ramblings about wuthering heights and the idea of the tumblr feral woman and female emotional repression lmk and i'll tell you the url bc honestly i think it was pretty good.

how long have you been on tumblr?

since like march or april 2013, so like a month or two before my 14th birthday. i've had the same blog the whole time. please don't look at it.

do you have a queue tag?

i literally JUST figured out how to queue stuff AJSHABDHS, so no. i do queue stuff sometimes but only bc sometimes i don't want people to know i'm online but i still wanna reblog stuff

why did you start your blog in the first place?

i'd been lurking for like. years. so i just finally decided to actually make an account because using tumblr on a browser without an account (which is what i was doing) is nightmarish.

why did you choose your icon/pfp?

i'm obsessed with wanda maximoff duh. also i had picked my header and i wanted something red/pink to match it and i found this one and she's wearing red and has the most amazing energy that i wanted people to feel when they saw my posts.

why did you choose your header?

i'm obsessed with ivy by taylor swift. best song of all time i fear

what’s your post with the most notes?

oh god it's probably this awful fucking reblog bait i made when i was like 17 testing if there was a correlation between hogwarts house and whether someone is a boogara or a shaniac. it's terrible bc 1. that was pretty cringe of me ngl 2. it very clearly says 'in the tags' but people still reblog it and don't put their answers in the tags they only put it in the reblog they reply or they just reblog it and leave the tags blank and i'm like bestie the instructions were very clear.

how many people do you follow?

too many. 1237 to be more specific.

have you ever made a shitpost?

darling, with me every post is a shitpost

how often do you use tumblr?

i would say too much but can you really spend too much in your own home? like i'm always here but of course i am i live here.

did you have a fight/argument with a blog once? who won?

yes ♥️ they did not admit defeat but they stopped arguing in the reblogs and switched to the replies so i think it's clear who won (me)

how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this post’?

don't tell me what to do.

do you like tag games?

i ADORE them!! i love being thought of and i love talking about myself ♥️

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? 

i think all of my mutuals are cool and intimidating and if i actually answered this question it would be incredibly embarassing for me but let's just say yes i do consider some of them tumblr famous and i love that for them im so proud ♥️ also am obviously obsessed with emily referring to herself as "Kafkaesque" bc it's so true. all those urls is the TRUE metamorphosis.

do you have a crush on a mutual?

i'm in love with all of you let's kiss 😘

last song i listened to

i hoped beyond hope that it wouldn't be a taylor swift song but alas i checked spotify and it's king of my heart by taylor swift. i truly do listen to music that isn't taylor swift but you would never know that from looking at my tumblr.

my phone bg and lockscreen

i'll just put a screenshot. my lockscreen is the same as my bg, it's a picture of my wife 💖 also blocked out my location not doxxing myself today ♥️

tagging

@quinnmorgendorffer @gobbluthlesbian @gobbluthbisexual @bethecowgirl @grasslandgirl @distortedfractals @bettymp3 @dilfmaverick and anyone else who wants to do it <3

[imo-chan-imagines]

『 Haikyuu!! Week 2020 | Day 2 』

· Sept. 26th → One Ball, Heart and Soul ·

Characters: Sawamura Daichi, Testurou Kuroo, Bokuto Koutarou, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Oikawa Tooru, Terushima Yuuji

Prompts: A. favourite position/role + B. travel/journey

Tags/warnings: Haikyuu!! (anime), PG, fluff, crack, headcanons, HaikyuuWeek2020

A/N: I found it so hard to pick a favourite position/role, because they're all so interesting and important, and I love everyone 😭 But I settled on the role of captain because of the headcanons I thought of. Captain Sqaud, assemble! So, want to find out what these boys are like on a road trip?

(Just to be clear, I do love all these guys. None of this is hate 😂) All my Haikyuu Week 2020 posts will be SFW, but I have some NSFW stuff on my blog, too. Feel free to check that out~ Thanks for reading! Please enjoy ♡ Imo~

☆ Sawamura Daichi ☆

Dad-chi™

Comes prepared with all the food, drinks, snacks, med kit, camera – literally everything you could possibly need on a road trip

Plans out the route beforehand down to the tiniest detail nothing gets past this man

As well as multiple backup routes in case there's diversions etc.

Plans for regular breaks at two-hour intervals where everyone can pee, stretch their legs, buy anything they need, etc.

He's the one who's driving he's not letting anybody else get a scratch on his van, lmao

And he's good at it

No speeding he's a cop, y'all but he doesn't dawdle either, no running red lights, turns corners well, keeps an even foot on the gas, etc.

Just a good time, tbh

Nobody is getting car sick because of him that would be a damn disgrace

"Stop fighting right now, or I'm turning this van around"

And will actually do it if you don't stfu, lmfao

Don't even think about making a mess and dropping your rubbish in the van you'll be walking home

Everyone else thinks his music is boring and for old people, but Daichi honestly doesn't care

Besides, it's either that or no music at all, because he needs to concentrate on the road

He takes this shit seriously. People's lives are in his hands, dammit!

☆ Testurou Kuroo ☆

Likes to switch between driving and riding shotgun/being designated navigator

Is fairly decent at both

Is constantly eating something but, like, he probably doesn't even know what it is

Some kind of edible is shoved towards his mouth by whoever's riding shotgun, and in it goes shut up. Not like that, you cretins 😂

Somehow manages to behave like an overbearing grandparent and an overexcited child at the same time?? Nothing new there, I guess 😂

I'm sorry, Kuroo, I love you. Please don't be mad 😭

Has a banging playlist full of throwback songs from the 90s and early 2000s

Drums along sofly on the steering wheel or dashboard constantly

HATES driving in rain he's low-key terrified he's going to aquaplane

Likes driving with the windows wound down and feeling the wind in his hair

Will plan the route, but then forget to save it/print it off, etc.

Cannot work Google Maps or SAT-NAVs to save his life Kenma, please help him

Actually packs properly balanced meals, but is heavy on the snacks, too

You'd think he'd drive too fast, but he's actually really responsible

Constantly telling dad jokes to try and keep people amused the groaners are the best

Would probably fight someone at the gas station if they started being a dick and causing trouble

Kuroo, baby. I love you, but please don't get arrested 😭😂😭

☆ Bokuto Koutarou ☆

Dear God, do NOT let him drive leave it to Akaashi, I'm begging you

Has really bad spacial awareness in a vehicle and drifts all over the place

Probably speeds without even knowing it, too

Likes to ride shotgun, but is a terrible navigator, so is nearly always made to ride in the back

Is the loud one that moves around too much and blocks the rear view mirror strap him in tight, Akaashi

Belts along at the top of his voice to whatever music is playing, he's not fussy

Was told to pack essential items in his backpack and proceeded to fill it with sweets and snacks and a pack of condoms??? and thought he did good

Bokuto: Bro, you said they were essential

Akaashi: NOT FOR EVERY SITUATION

Rarely ever has to pee, but when he does, it's always miles away from any service station, and he has to hold it for hours

Has definitely peed at the side of the road multiple times because he couldn't hold it any longer, but he wasn't even embarrassed as numerous cars zoomed past

Likes sticking his head out the window like a dog on the motorway which gives everyone else heart attacks

Like, get the hell back inside you maniac 😭

If the car has a sunroof, he's 100% standing up through it with his hands in the air just you try and stop him

And they will. Everyone will try

"HORSES!!"

Will get out of the car in traffic jams to find out what's going on and end up chatting with random strangers until it starts moving again

And he's very sad when he has to leave his new friends. Droopy hair and emo Kou for the next 2 hours :(

Unironically enjoys playing 'I Spy' for hours at a time

Is a bit much to handle in such a confined space for hours on end, but he's just so excited for the road trip

Will fall sound asleep in a matter of minutes if you set him up with a travel pillow and it's freaking adorable!!

☆ Ushijima Wakatoshi ☆

No music whatsoever it's distracting. Why would he want it?

Okay driver, brilliant paper-map navigator

Will sit and do absolutely nothing but stare out the window the entire trip if he's neither

Breaks too hard and accelerates too fast, though

Is also kind of heavy-handed with the gear stick he may or may not have snapped one off before...

Never give him a SAT-NAV, though, because he will follow the directions with 100% accuracy and end up driving through a wall or some shit don't try and deny it

Does he ever even blink when he's looking at the road? We may never know

Might be astral projecting, who knows

Forgets people need toilet breaks but refuses to make unscheduled stops

"Just hold it in"

Uh-huh, sure. That's how that works, Toshi

No snacks

Or rather, no fun snacks. Protein bars and mineral water all the way, babyyyy 🙃🙃🙃

Could probably drive all through the night without taking any breaks but that's irresponsible

Don't do it, kids

Will likely devour the entire KFC menu at the service station he's big, okay? He eats a lot

Is prone to leg cramp after long drives oh look, he needs a massage 😏

Doesn't get car sick. Ever. Upset stomachs are for the weak

Has garbage and recycling pouches on the backs of the front seats use them correctly, or feel his wrath

Isn't exactly a barrel of laughs, but it's somehow endearing just like always *happy sigh*

But it's actually a good thing

There's no hidden side to Ushi or any bad or annoying habits that come out of the woodwork on a long road trip

He's just the same old reliable, adorably straightforward Ushijima ❤

☆ Oikawa Tooru ☆

Calls shotgun and demands the aux cord every. Single. Time but it's pretty decent music, so no-one really complains

Not that he's any good at navigation pray for Iwa-chan

Is constantly taking selfies, making TikToks, and documenting the trip on his social media

#ROADTRIP #SQUAD GOALS #BETTER THAN YOU

Will send all the photos in the group chat when it's over, and they actually come out pretty well

Will not stop complaining if the air conditioning is busted and Iwa-chan will threaten to dump him in the middle of nowhere if he doesn't can it 😂

Iwa-chan: I shoulda left you on that street corner where you were standing

Oikawa: But'cha dIDN'T

Bonus points if you get that reference, lmao

Has to keep taking breaks because his butt hurts when he sits down for too long because it's fLaT

I'm sorry, Tooru 😭😭 Forgive me. I love you, really

Is constantly on his phone

But he points out pretty views and interesting sights to everyone all the time awww

Low-key needs to pee all the time, but gets defensive if someone brings it up please stop bulling him, travelling is hard

"Are we there yet?"

Seems kind of annoying, but is actually just genuinely excited to go on a road trip and spend time with his friends 😭😭

Buys matching souvenirs for everyone in secret to surprise them with 🥺

When people complain about all the photos, souvenirs, and enthusiasm, etc. and ask why he has to keep doing it, Oikawa says:

"I want to remember as much of this as possible. I want us all to remember as much of this as much as possible," with a sweet little smile 😭😭😭

And that's when everyone realises how mean they've been to him about being over-the-top and irritating, and they all feel terrible

Just like in the freaking anime, man

☆ Terushima Yuuji ☆

Will hijack the aux cord to play his incredibly niche music taste

Feet up on the dashboard when he rides shotgun

Shoes on is bad enough, but shoes off just stinks up the entire car you have to roll all the windows down, lmfao

Will break all sorts of road laws if you let him behind the wheel please don't

Daichi will come and arrest him 😭😭

Lives on energy drinks

That's all the drinks he packs. Nothing else

Travels in sports wear and sliders yes, even though you reallly shouldn't drive in sandals

Like he knows or cares 😭

Will chat to girls at the gas station and ask for their numbers, even though he's never going to see them again

"You never know, man! It could be, like, fate or something"

Yes, Yuuji, you do. And it's 'or something'

Thinks it's a good time to sext his current booty call because, like, he has hours of free time. What else is he going to do?

Probably forgot to pack actual food

Has to live off of snacks and cheap service station food for the duration of the trip

But not his own snacks, of course. Everyone else's one doesn't keep friends and buy one's own snacks

Genuinely doesn't realise if he's being gross or annoying, so let him down lightly like a bro and he'll probably make an effort to stop

Doesn't plan the route or anything, even if he's driving. Just punches it into Google Maps as he sits his ass down on the day and trusts it to get him there in one piece and on time

Entire Johzenji team: Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death...

For some reason knows how to change a flat tire, though, so he's good for something, I guess 😂😂

Probably saw a YouTube video on it. Maybe a WikiHow article

Somehow still manages to be an endearing part of the trip??

He smiles a lot and makes a lot of jokes, particularly when things go wrong, so it keeps everyone's spirits up

It definitely wouldn't be the same without him

© imo-chan-imagines 2020

[carewyncromwell]

I don't know if you want to talk about this (and feel free to ignore this if you don't want to answer), but I wanted to ask which side of the Ethren mess you're on? I know in the beginning you were on his side, but I've seen so much hate and so many accusations and I don't know what to believe anymore, and I trust your judgement

I have to be honest -- when I first saw that a blog had been created with the specific purpose of “calling out” someone in the HPHM fandom...I blocked it.

I come to this fandom largely to escape from the real world. It’s been one of the few remaining sanctuaries I’ve had during this quarantine and from my own mental health problems. I’ve made a lot of friends in this community, and I feel very strongly about putting out more positive content than negative, as well as trying to digest more positive than negative. I don’t like the thought of a stranger posting stuff online about someone else who -- let’s be honest -- nobody truly knows unless they actually physically know them IRL. Unless one wants to go down an entire rabbit hole of getting to know a person uncomfortably well, there’s not much anyone can do to prove what’s true. And I know it sounds really immature and selfish of me, but...I was never that interested in learning much about this fandom’s members’ personal lives, excluding what the friends I’ve made have been willing to confide in me on a case by case basis. I have plenty of my own drama happening over here on my side, and I just want to have fun roleplaying with people’s characters and making content for both mine and theirs. It’s been one of the few things that helped me fight back my untreated and severe chronic depression after being furloughed from my job thanks to the COVID-19 shutdown. My job had been my escape, and without it, I was drowning -- one of my only life preservers was making content for this blog. So for my own mental health, I shut out the negativity, because I wasn’t emotionally or mentally able to deal with it. And admittedly, it felt to me as though this sort of thing really shouldn’t be handled online when -- again -- this sort of thing seems like it’d be better handled in the real world and the legal system, rather than in the court of mostly anonymous public opinion. And it also feels kind of nasty to reblog content from people online who simply liked the character Ethren Whitecross and made fan content for him, just to harangue them for it. It’s like attacking all Harry Potter fans for being transphobic just because they enjoyed something created by a trans-exclusionary radical feminist -- particularly when in the case of Ethren, the vast majority of us don’t know Ren personally. One could’ve related to Ethren’s story without knowing anything about his creator, and people did, often not because of any kind of malevolent reasons.

After receiving this message, though, I unblocked the blog in question and read some more of their posts. When I’d first blocked it, the only post of theirs I saw in the HPHM tag came across as rather hostile, and combined with Ren’s blog saying that an ex was stalking him, I don’t think it’s unsurprising that some people were initially warded off by it. But reading some of the other stuff written on that blog since...I must acknowledge there’s a lot of troubling stuff there. It made me very upset, and made me kind of regret that I’d initially jumped into making a stance without hearing both sides. But at the same time, considering that someone from outside the fandom had arrived specifically to target someone in the fandom, supposedly on behalf of someone else who also had no ties to the fandom, it looked a lot like cyberbullying to me at the time. Now it’s very clear there’s more to the story, and for that initial leap to judgment, I am sorry. I wasn’t in a place where I understood fully what the discussion was about before I took a side, and that’s something I should know better than to do.

But I think this comes down to, in the end, my answer to your question, regarding sides.

I don’t want to take a side -- because I didn’t come to the HPHM fandom to fight people. I came here to be happy.

I know someone could read this as cowardly and ignorant, but please, understand that I thought long and hard about this. This place has been a safe space for me, and I understand it has been for others as well -- a place where we can go to enjoy art and fanfiction for something we enjoy and roleplay as new, interesting characters with other people who have similar interests and creative leanings. I thoroughly understand that it can’t truly be a safe space if we allow people who would threaten other people’s safety into it, and I also thoroughly understand that people can include problematic aspects of themselves into their characters along with good things (just look at how J.K.’s apparent subliminal views on the LGBT+ community influenced how she’s handled Dumbledore). Both things are definitely things to be aware of, and it’ll be an ongoing struggle to try to propagate a truly welcoming and positive, and yet safe and supportive community. There will always be shadows and dark spots that aren’t easy to see, just like with all fandoms, and it’s good to now and again take the time to examine them.

But to quote a line from one of my favorite songs, “it’s hard to light a candle, easy to curse the dark instead.”  I cannot log onto my computer and into this fandom every day and think about openly attacking someone else, regardless of whether they deserve it or not. This feels like something that the victim should handle herself in the real world, and I truly hope that she finds peace in whatever path she takes. But that is her story to tell, to write, and to play out -- it’s not mine. Mine is a story I have written and am still writing, where I’ve tried to find a way to be happy and be a good person despite everything in my life that has made that so difficult. And so I truly feel the only way I can approach this situation is to not let the things that hurt and drain me have power over my life, and put my energy toward things that build me up instead. I try not to visit tags or places online that could be triggering, and simply enjoy the things I do like. I’ve stopped spending money on things Harry Potter-related because of Jo’s stance on transgender rights, but still engage in the HP fandom and celebrate what is good in the original material and especially what its fandom has made out of it. In this case, I will simply do the same, particularly since from the look of things, Ren’s blog is no longer around for anyone to interact with anyway, positively or not. I’ll engage with blogs whose work I can still enjoy and give me some light when I most need it, and try my best to keep creating more light of my own for others. I will light candles, and little by little, I’d like to think the room will be bright enough that the dark will be significantly smaller and less scary than it was.

I understand if any of you disagree with or are angry about anything I’ve said. I know “playing both sides” is not a great thing to do, and I truly don’t mean to. But I’m afraid I do have to take my own side here, for my own mental and emotional well-being. I responded to this Ask because I felt like saying nothing would’ve truly been the cowardly thing to do, by pretending the issue isn’t there at all. I’m not pretending it isn’t there -- but I do think it’s a battle I’m ill-equipped to engage in, not because of my personal morals, but because I don’t feel emotionally able to play the role of judge, jury, and executioner in this court of public opinion.

[tuesdayscanons]

《 How I Run My Blog 》

Speed

《 If you take anything from this post, it's this—I either respond in ten seconds or ten years. There's a whole lotta factors: time, energy, interest, etc. Lately, I've been moving slower because my muse is all over the place and I've been burnt out by college, but the semester is about to end and I'm hoping my workload won't be as overwhelming from now on. 》

Replies

《 The length of my replies tend to vary, but I try to write multi-para responses (which can slow me down when I get carried away/overwhelmed. I'm also interested in fun little one line responses, which I'd most likely respond to quicker bc they're more casual. 》

Starters

《 I tend to post starter calls for the muses/AUs I'm the most interested in atm, though things can be delayed if my muse flops for any reason. Starters *might* be easier to write, though I have starters I owe which suggest otherwise. It also depends on what ideas I have—sometimes I have a gazillion ideas for interactions between muses and other times I get stuck bc I have no clue how to create a situation for two muses to have an excuse to interact. 》

Inbox

《 My inbox is open to anyone and to (almost) anything. You can send me random nonsense on anon for all I care, as long as it isn't overly vulgar or hostile. Don't get me wrong, you can still push my muses around (tbh I encourage it), but there's a point to where it stops being fun.

RP memes also don't expire on this blog. You can send me something from a post I reblogged over a year ago (though please specify if it's an emoji meme—there are emoji asks in purgatory bc I can't remember what meme it's from and have no clue how to respond).

The asks I'm most interested in tend to revolve around personal relationships or deep dives into my muses? Y'all can probably tell from what I usually reblog. OOC memes are also good when my muse is low, though I'd feel bad if I posted OOC too often. Y'all came for my muses, not to hear me ramble.

My speed tends to vary, though I usually find it easier to respond to ask memes than ic stuff. 》

Selectivity

《 I say that I'm semi-selective on my promos, though I'm generally open to writing with people. Most of it comes down to anxiety—I still try to reach out to people, but it makes my day when people reach out to me? Tbh, I'm constantly worried about bothering people and having people care enough to approach me is a huge deal. Sometimes I can be all over the place, but ideally, I'd like to open myself up to new partners. Depending on a handful of partners can be a huge issue down the line, especially knowing how I can be sometimes. 》

Wishlist

《 What I'm most interested in tends to shift, but I have a wishlist tag (creatively labeled "wishlist") if y'all want to check it out. Generally, I'm interested in exploring interpersonal relationships. Romance, rivalry, friendship, family, what have you. I tend to lean towards fluff or...Sour Patch Kids threads? I'm sure there's a better word out there to describe it, but basically angst/melodrama which leads to fluff. Sometimes I can do full on angst, though I don't do so as often because they're kinda a bummer. 》

Honest Notes

《 This goes for everything I've previously mentioned, but I have a tendency to hyperfixate. It could be a certain muse, a specific aspect/character dynamic, sometimes even specific mutuals as odd as that might seem. I don't intend to brush people off or play favorites, it's just that my attention and memory are both atrocious. 》

Random Side Notes

《 Related to the hyperfixation thing, there are times where I post a lot of art/headcanons to my oc blogs instead of actually writing ic stuff. I started out as an oc rper and I find it easier to write ocs (hence why Maddie has pretty much taken over this blog). Sometimes I'm able to write canon characters like I would ocs, though I don't think I could ever be more invested in a canon character than my ocs. They're my babies, y'know? I've also probably mentioned before that I don't watch a whole lot of shows because I spend most of my free time thinking about my ocs. That could have something to do with it...

Also—if y'all want to direct message me, I prefer Discord over Tumblr IMs. I'll still respond to Tumblr IMs, but Discord is better if y'all are looking to have regular/on-going OOC contact with me. Idk, it just feels more organized and personal? I check my Discord pretty much daily, so I'll probably respond quickly (if I don't forget to write back, that is...but I still don't think I'd leave you hanging for too long). 》

[the-blueberry-jellyfish]

Discord Exchange

Just gonna post the bios and stuff here so it's all together and organized. Whoever gets me can pick anyone from this list, you to do✌️✨ Got some dbz and some non-dbz choices. Some of them have a few more pictures in their tags, but not all. I don't care if my gift is written or drawn🦑 And, particularly if you're writing, feel free to include your own oc in whatever's going on, if it helps you get things rolling or whatever. I feel like y'all have the harder job😂💙

---

Cam

He/Him, 5'5", gay ace

Cam's babie c: Well, kinda lol. He grew up in an orphanage and spent a few years homeless, on the street. Nowadays, after carving out a place for himself through a series of turf wars, he's the gang boss of his city's second most prominent gang. He lives in a motel he owns and runs, which is his primary source of income. He's outgoing and friendly, despite the violent side of him and treats his gang members like family. He doesn't much like death, since he's seen so much of it, but views it as a necessary evil, depending on the circumstance. Basically you're all good and taken care of if you're on his good side, but probs in hot shit if you're on his bad side. He doesn't like spending time alone. He would rather sit in silence with someone else than be alone in a room. He's been able to come to terms with things like being alone to go to sleep and such, but if he's ever forced into isolation, it gives him mad anxiety, dude. He refuses to spend more than $20 on anything and much prefers thrift stores and shoplifting😂 He's more okay paying for things at family owned establishments, but he doesn't like to give big companies money lmao. He really loves listening to people play music live, especially if it's jazz music. And just, ,, has to dance😤👏👏👏 He absolutely loves animals and is always setting out water and extra food for the strays. He's named the ones he sees regularly and is working on getting little shelters built for them😭💙🐶🐱✨ He also will bury any dead strays and roadkill that he finds. He feels like they deserve that much.

Likes: His gang members, jazz, PURPLE!! and pink!!, sleeveless shirts and jackets, thrifting, ANIMALS😭💙, gaudy ass decorations😂, gaudy ass anything tbh, pasta, his rainbow steletto switchblade😗💙✨

Dislikes: Being alone, "gross yellows", authority figures, rich people, beING ALONE, spending money😪💸, hot days, seeing people struggle, drugs, BEING ALONE

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Gale

He/Him, 6'10", pan

Asshole. Asshole man. Will kick your ass np and can be a bit of a bully to those he perceives as being weak. He's not afraid to voice his opinion, not really caring about what other people think of him, and takes an instant disliking to people who are snobby or authority figures. He tends to be quick-tempered and closed off to others, but to those he cares about he's fiercely protective and loyal. He will kill for those few, special people and really only feels truly at ease with those people. He has trouble processing and expressing his emotions a lot of the time, especially more complex ones, which can lead to him just defaulting into a grumpy state. He doesn't really have any true hobbies because he was never able to healthily explore those types of things, so he usually just relaxes in his free time, which is fine with him because he tends to stress😂 Though, he is a bit of an adrenaline junkie and won't say no to going out and doing stupid things just for the sake of doing them😂👏✨ He has an absolutely massive, and also ever-growing, candle collection. He doesn't like to turn down buying new ones when he sees them, so it's resulted in every flat surface in his home being covered with candles. No, he doesn't think it's weird and no, he doesn't think that's too many candles. Aaaand though he hates cleaning, he can't stand for things to be messy or untidy because it gives him massive anxiety, so everything is always put away and clean 😤

Likes: CANDLES!!! (it's not a 'like' it's an obsession), alcohol, everything to be clean, blue and yellow, just... relaxing, horror movies, cold weather, attention, just about any kind of attention, making memories via doing stupid shit😂

Dislikes: People with an holier-than-thou attitude, jewelry, CLUTTER AND MESSES, bright ass lime green, horses (those bitches scary), people who are mean to kids (they get an extra ass kicking (ง'̀-'́)ง )

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Isa

She/Her, 5', straight

My spunky gal! My little firecracker! She’s super outgoing, sweet, and friendly. In fact, she likes to be friends with everyone. Tends to go after the loner type people for friends though bc she thinks they need the love lol. And she’s got lots of love and support to give them. She’s the type of person that’s always there for anyone who’s going through a rough patch, trying to help them find a solution to the problem. She’s not very good at recognizing that someone doesn’t want her help though lmao. She thinks that everyone can be good under the right circumstances and surrounded by the right people. She likes to just let loose and have fun. She’s usually very carefree, silly, and up for trying new things. She’s also pretty damn hyper though lmao. She’s constantly a walking bundle of energy and excitement. Because of this, a lot of people just, ,, can't handle to be around her very long. It's definitely... a lot😂💙 And as nice as she is, she’s a feisty little shit and isn’t afraid of anyone. She’s gotten into a couple of fights with people she mmmaaayyybe shouldn't have fought and earned a few scars, but she just thinks they’re cool ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ No one’s gonna step on her and they most definitely aren’t gonna step on her family. She just. Has no fear😂 She's far too optimistic to think that anything irreversibly bad could actually happen. Everything can be fixed 😂👏✨

Likes: Food, lots of food, making new friends (especially if they're grumps or bad people she can annoy into not being bad😂), picnics, going on runs and outside adventures, spending time with family and friends, when everyone gets along, cute babies

Dislikes: Sitting still, doing nothing all day, bitches that come around just to cause trouble, alcohol, overly pessimistic mindsets

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Klovnie

He/Him, 6'11", pan

STINKY MAN ALERT😂 Him and his twin, Klaunie (Spork's), are assassans. They're suuuper close and wouldn't really... be able to function without the other. Klov certainly couldn't, that's for sure😂 Klaunie pretty much takes care of and watches over him because he has no impulse control and no self-preservation instinct. He's prone to going barreling into situations without knowing much of anything about it. So yeah. The money they get from their job is just an added bonus to him because he very much enjoys his job. A little too much 🤡🤡🤡 Hgbgh. He has a big fascination with taxidermy and may or may not experiment with taxidermy on his victims. Ahem. He has... many people mounted on his walls. It's no big deal, don't worry about it. Oh yeah, and he's also a cannibal kjhkjhgj it's fine👌✨ The whole clown aesthetic comes from his family, who are all a part of a traveling circus. Though, only he and Klaunie are, ,, let's say odd,, , lmao. Which causes some issues. But aside from clowning, taxidermy, and his job, he likes to paint or sculpt in his free time. Though his artworks are, um... pretty abstract lmao. You don't have to understand it, just nod and smile 😂💕✨ Though, if you're genuinely interested, he's always more than happy to explain c: He's also a very good dancer and is always looking to imporove further. Come dance with him👀😂💙✨ He likes stars a lot and always signs things with a star instead of his name⭐️ In his mind, the star symbol is his name and you won't convince him otherwise. He has a big ol' mallet and her name is Tuesday Night Cherrypop Supreme. She's the love of his life and she's a good smash-y girl😂

Likes: Klaunie, Tuesday Night Cherrypop Supreme, finding roadkill, GLITTER! SPARKLES! SEQUINS!, adding a new taxidermy person to his room😂, pudding, sneaking bites of food before it's ready, singing and dancing, smeLLING THINGS, cheesy knock knock jokes!

Dislikes: Being ignored, people being mean to Klaunie, burnt food >:•c , overly plain things, missing a joke, people who refuse to have a good time🤡