#OHHH THIS FIC IS SOOOOOO GOOD

[ceilidho]

Finally got a chance to read Sundog and ohhh my gawwwd. Don’t get me wrong I like a good straight up non con fic but there’s something soo delicious about a male character who wants to and would force the fmc, but instead just sits there and waits patiently bc he wants her to want it. Like those crocodiles that just sit there w their mouth open for fish to swim in. UGH SO GOOD. 10/10 A+ five stars

Thank you so much!!!! Omg I so wanted it to be dubcon too and then I just couldn’t shake the image of reader being so grateful and in love with her would be saviour. Sometimes it’s just soooooo fun when reader is desperate for Ghost and he holds her back because it kind of amuses him to see her lose control

[picnokinesis]

flux adjacent fic recs

in media res by wreckageofstars (3k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: “Well,” she said. “Now you know what the mattress is for.” Dan shifted. “And the trampoline?” “Best not ask about the trampoline.” //I think this is probably the first Dan pov fic I ever read, and it’s absolutely brilliant. This author gets the character voices down so perfectly it’s unreal, and the whole thing is just so wonderful to see from Dan’s outsider perspective. It’s set in the immediate aftermath of Once, Upon Time, and it does a fantastic job of exploring the impact of what happened in that episode – both from a whump perspective and an emotional one. Angsty, but also funny in the worst kind of way – someone please go give Yaz a break, she REALLY needs one. Anyway, it’s great, everyone go read it right now.

Hearts of Stone by weirdpug (previously xhonia) (1k, 1 chapter, thoschei) summary: The Doctor loses herself. The Master finds her. //Ohhh this one this one, it’s SO awesome – it’s one of those fics that does really cool things with the formatting? Which works great here, because it’s a weeping angel!13 fic and wow, wow! Extremely awesome indeed, and just beautifully written – the prose is just so full of character, even when the Doctor is losing herself and it’s so well done.

Divination by WalkerLister (6k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: “There was a name for someone similar to me once. They called them the Valeyard. You can call me that, if you like. I quite like it, it’s suitably eerie. Little bit of drama never hurt anyone.” //Right, so we all remember what happened when War of the Sontarans aired…we got that ‘next time’ trailer of Once Upon Time…and all collectively lost our minds over the inverted dark coat. Since then, I feel like everyone has been finding really creative ways to get it into fanfics, and this is a wonderful example. And, well, if the promise of dark coat!13 wasn’t enough, this fic is just an absolutely fascinating look at the concept of the Valeyard in the context of the fobwatch from Flux, but focused on Yaz and her relationship with/perception of the Doctor. It’s such a good concept and so so wonderfully done! (also, if you’re a fan of thasmin, this author has a ton of stuff, so definitely go check it all out! For the less thasmin-inclined folks, I highly recommend Ipesity, which is one of my favourite post-TTC fics)

three points where two lines meet by Ymae (4k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: The Doctor tries to get those memories back, and breaks herself, bit by bit. //Oh man. This fic. I still remember when this one first posted and hoooooo boy, it is a hell of a gut-punch and absolutely wrenched my heart right out of my chest but HHHHHHHHH wow!! WOW. Genuinely, I think this fic rewrote my brain a little bit. It's set in the immediate aftermath of Once, Upon Time where the Doctor makes some very unwise decisions about trying to tug at her timeline and it's absolutely incredible. Very angsty, very whumpy, and full of a HUGE amount of the Doctor messing with timelines and very visceral, tangible descriptions of her timesense. It is such a treat, guys. And if you like this one and want something with similar vibes, I also highly recommend this post-flux fic by the same author!

Sheer Poetry! by Papapaldi (57k, 5 chapters, gen) summary: Trapped within her own mind, the Doctor travels through an impossible house, with everyone she has ever been locked inside. Her body is an unresponsive, useless bag of flesh somewhere far and away in reality. The part of her brain that she knows, where her past resides, sits somewhere else entirely within the old machine. The Ravagers eat, buried memories beckon, and the Doctor's faith is shaken to its core. She will never be the same – but that's what she's all about, right? Incredible change. //oh my days. THIS FIC, guys - look, I see the word count, I know, I know. This fic is a serious undertaking, but like so many things in life it is soooooo so worth it. Bucket loads of absolutely ASTOUNDING imagery, more references to Lungbarrow and Timewyrm Revelation than you can shake a stick at, BUT you don't need to have read those stories at all to enjoy this absolutely fantastic saga (put it like this - I've not read those books, and I had a whale of a time). Incredibly poetic, a little nonsensical in the best kind of way (it IS a mindscape fic) but startlingly funny and so beautifully in character. I laughed, I cried. This fic is just a love letter to everything Doctor Who, weaving all of canon into this beautiful, cohesive tapestry. I highly recommend. (and, if you're hungry for more and want tpotd content, there's an excellent sequel as well)

every step i choose to take (begins to set the world aflame) by SleepyMaddy (12k, 1 chapter, thoschei) summary: In a spaceport lost in a remote quadrant of interstellar space, a Doctor who doesn’t know herself anymore runs into a Master who doesn’t know himself yet // Ok so the sheer concept of this one ALONE is absolutely brilliant – the Doctor, escaping from the Division and half out of her head, bumps into the Master, who’s not long regenerated from Missy. And, guys. It’s fascinating. Seeing the Master right at the start, before he finds out everything that comes to define him in this era, and then having him meet a version of the Doctor who is quite a lot further along than him and just completely out of it? It’s like catnip to me, guys. And, of course, it’s all helped by the fact that the writing is absolutely brilliant – the characters are just absolutely spot on, which is quite an incredible feat seeing as they are both in very different places to where we see them in the show, yet they still manage to ring true throughout the whole thing. And also the mindscape imagery? The psychic whump? The emotional gut-punch that is the entire fic? Absolutely unparalleled. (also, if you’re a spydoc fan? Just help yourself out and read this author’s entire set of works, because it’s all fantastic)

see me bare my teeth for you by picnokinesis (16k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: “Do you know your mission?” //This is a bit of a cheeky self-rec, but, in my defence, if you're looking for flux fics, then I think you'll enjoy this one. I wrote it in the week after Village of the Angels aired, and it's basically all my thoughts and theories about what was going to happen in Survivors of the Flux thrown into a 16k oneshot. I was...mostly wrong HAHA but I’m still really proud of it. If you like division!doctor, then this one is for you

we're only dreaming (tell me who i am) by SpaceBetweenGalaxies (2k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: more the-memory-house-is-Lungbarrow clowning //ok, so if you were like me when flux was airing and absolutely lost your MIND over the illogical house which was a bit too on the nose regarding Lungbarrow related things, then THIS FIC IS FOR YOU. Absolutely brilliantly done, with some gorgeous imagery that I'm still thinking about to this day, and just a wonderfully unsettling exploration of the Doctor and how she picks at those cut off memories in the aftermath of the Flux

the stars are bound to change by emptypockets (9k, 1 chapter, gen) summary: Being trisected across the universe has unexpected consequences for the Doctor, and Yaz is tasked with the responsibility of keeping her awake. //ohhhhhh this fic is so wonderful!! It's that weird sweet spot of 'soft angst', where it hits where it hurts but at the same time the whole thing feels like it's wrapping you in a warm blanket. Augh!! Such a lovely portrayal of the Doctor and Yaz's dynamic - I adore how this author writes these two so much. An absolutely lovely (but angsty!) character exploration, with a healthy dose of whump and sleepiness on the side. What more could you want?

Everything by rowanthestrange (24k, 13 chapters, thasmin) summary: In which Yaz wants to know everything, and the Doctor finally wants that too. //Ok, so full disclosure, I don't read that much thasmin, but this fic, guys. It's just gorgeous. A beautifully written exploration of Yaz and her relationship with the Doctor in the aftermath of Flux, which explores the years Yaz spent in the past and how that changed her; the Doctor grappling with her identity issues and how that's changed her; as well as all sorts of other wonderful things besides. Another fic that had tears streaming down my face (the TARDIS chapter got me...). It's such a poignant, emotional fic, and it's very focused on character in a way that I really adore. If you like thasmin, this is an absolute must-read. If you're not a fan of thasmin, I recommend it anyway (- signed: a thoschei shipper) because it's just such a brilliant portrayal of these two.

[wrencatte]

For the fic writer asks, 7, 15, and 26?

7. a fic of yours you think is underrated?

Ummm. Honestly? where we call home - my kingdom hearts wip

15. what are some of your favorite tropes to write?

ohhh boy. obviously hurt/comfort, borderline hurt no comfort if I'm being honest. Even hurt no comfort isn't my favorite trope to read I end up writing it a lot. Badass in Distress I guess is a common trope too, that whole "the balance of competency and whump" that you straddle when you write characters like Jason Todd and Cal Kestis. They're both incredibly competent people, making sure they get whump'd real good without undermining that is hard...Well, Cal makes it easy because he keeps falling off things soooooo

26. what fic are you proudest of?

library card - it was the one I started first when I got into the Jason Todd fandom (let's be real, I'm in that fandom not the batman fandom) and I was encouraged by the discord to finish it despite my uncertainty about the outsider POV aspect. I get multiple comments about what this fic has made people feel about community and libraries, and my OCs get so much more love than I was expecting!!

[toxycodone]

omggg oxy that kabru fic. i was a little worried it was gonna bum me out but u hit the PERFECT notes & now i am like oh fuck yes put those little freaks in a blender. follow up where they talk about things is so ideal to me i LOVE silly complicated weirdified fucked up character dynamics. ohhh my god the way their relationship is going to be changed forever… giggling and kicking my legs.

bone anon 😘

YESSSGEHEVEHEVD just. I’m so glad you like it

Kabru with a Beastkin!Reader is soooooo. Important to me. Knowing Kabru’s character and his trauma I think it takes a GOOD long while for him to accept them.

Even when he starts to trust them. When their fangs flash when they smile he flinches. Their claws touching his skin makes him shudder. And I can’t blame him because he probably watched something similar looking to them eat his neighbor alive in front of them.

Kabru and Beastkin reader are so complicated but he steadily learns to trust them and see them as a person. Then slowly start to appreciate their monstrous traits as apart of THEM. Someone he loves and trusts.

Anyways if it’s not clear: I really love exploring trauma and realistic relationships on this blog LOL.

WE ARE BOTH GIGGLING AND KICKING OUR LEGS LOOKING AT OUR LIL DOLLS IN A DOLLHOUSE CRIESSSS

[brick-a-doodle-do]

HELLOOOOOOOOOOOO

Okay okay okay okay. You have me your fav song from half alive soooooo,

Opinions on Creature and Nobody

(Because they’re now both my fav songs)

HELLO HELLO

OHHH CREATURE MY BELOVED !!! SERENITY & SOOT HOUSE SPARKED FROM THIS SO OF COURSE I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT! first half-alive song i listened to asw!

nobody!! i added to my playlist the day you told me about it and now i LOVE it! both are very good :D

OHHHHH I JUST PUT CREAETURE ON AND FEGGDSAFJDVSKFJDS I LOVE IT SO MUCH GODDD SUCH A GOOD SONG ????????? ughh now i wanna write more serenity

actually speaking of this song & serenity i TOTALLY did not follow creature at ALL for serenity. maybe i should make serenity follow a different character like techno or wil cause it does NOT fit tommy for this song. i mean soot house is wilbur pov and it follows the song a whole lot more,,

OR who knows maybe i'll start ANOTHER one and have a lil trio of full-fledged ao3 material fics! anyways sorry to ramble sdhfddk

[allfortzu]

Where were you when I wanted datzu so baaaaddd 😭

I really love the works you do! Please keep it going! Especially datzu because they're soooooo sweeeeetttt and you write them so well!

I'm a sucker for sub!dub because she's the subbiest sub that can ever sub, but after reading "love me good"? Dom!dub gave me all the feels! Just the thought of tzuyu whimpering against dahyun's touch..... Ohhh lordsdsdsd

I. Want. It. More.

(I'm forcing you 😤😡)

MY FELLOW DATZU ENTHUSIAST!! ☺️🫶

thank you so much i didnt think anyone was reading them 🥹👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

and you're so right.. dub is the subbiest and tzu is so service top coded.... but imo when it comes to datzu together tzuyu's 100% dahyun's baby 🥺 she's at maximum unnie mode when it comes to tzuyu and lives to make her happy! also tzu being the type who isnt loud but still makes lots of noises... you understand me fr ✊️

im working on another fic now with mitzu in mind (maybe something to do with a certain crime scene ttt? 🤭) but datzu is always my number one so there'll definitely be more of them!! (perhaps some sub!dub and dom!tzu next time bc immm a sucker for dom!tzu so we're perfect rlly 😁 im always open to listen to thoughts! <3)

[hangmanssunnies]

Hello, again. Part two was phenomenal, it lived up to part one in every way. Your charcters and writing are such dynamite. I apologize for this once again unhinged reblog. SOme of my thoughts and favorite parts are below.

Ohhh your descriptions!! They are so vivid and well paced.

"You stare at him for a long, silent moment. Trying your best not to focus on the water currently soaking the carpet beneath his bare feet or the roll of droplets down his prominently toned abdominals. He seems equally frozen near the bathroom door."

Jake is sooooo hot!!! I want to lick his abs. No, we are staying focused on the mission, not one's wingman... He is so so tempting, though 🥵

Actually, I wrote that ^ but then you wrote jake wearing a henley. WHICH IS ONE OF MY BIGGEST DESIRES IN LIFE. THANK YOU!!!! He would look so good in a henley. I am so glad that you think so, too <3333333 Also, somehow I want him more after imagining him in a henley than in the towel. There is something wrong with me.

okay, but secretly maybe I do think that matching Christmas pajamas are some of the cutest things ever. If you continue this fic someday (absolutely no pressure), I might die if you sneak a matching pj moment in. <33333

"He seems conflicted, challenged by the situation in a way he can’t quite gain control of as he twists the watch on his wrist over and over again."

ABSOLUTELY LOVED THIS LINE AND THIS LITTLE MOMENT. I know I talked about it in my part one reblog. But I really love the mannerisms you write for Jake.

I also have a comfortable necklace. 🥺 Pita is so valid. 💞💞💞

YOUR DETAILS!!!!! The way you actually pinpointed the weather and how Texas, that area specifically, is in winter!!!! Absolutely amazing. Hehehe Miss Patty totally giving away that Jake is already soooooo head over heels. I did not miss the mention on how he talks about Pita.

Ahhh the eggs. I loved that we got this little echo of part one where we saw that Pita knows Jake. Well, he knows her too!! and its subtle but you pulled it off beautifully. I love these little moments you build in that make connections like that.

Oh god... Everything with josh. I was holding my breath and anxious that whole section. You wrote the tension so palpable in the air between the characters.

Jake is such a gentleman letting her wash her face first and decompress for both of them. I love him. I love them!! Her asking him to play it out, i love that they do that. I really love how they talk to each other.

This part was so good. I loved seeing Pita and Jake go through this ordeal together. Also, the interesting details you put into everything, especially your character, is absolutely fantastic. Thank you so much for writing this and then sharing it for us to read. 💞💞

If you find muse and ever come back to this project. I am humbly request to be tagged if you do tag lists. I have adored your Jake and this story. Thank you again.

Home for the Holidays | Part 2

✦ Summary: Never let it be said that you weren’t willing to do just about anything for your squadron. As you find yourself roped into an elaborate ruse to help fool Hangman’s mother for Christmas all seems to be going according to plan. But when that plan spirals out of control, the line between real and pretend begins to blur.

✦ Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Female Reader

✦ Warnings: Anxiety, fake dating, hurt/comfort, Jake’s family being fake and generally awful towards him, mentions of divorce, minor angst.

✦ Word Count: 9.6k

✦ Author’s Note: Did I envision People Magazine’s 2022 Sexiest Man Alive in the role of Jake’s older brother? Perhaps. Also, to the lovely @top-hhun​​ and @andrewrussgarfield​​, thank you for your constant Glen Powell spams - never stop <3

✦ Tags: @callsignbarb​

[Master List]

The moment you blearily pull yourself up from the pleasant hum of intermittent sleep, it takes you far longer than you’d like to admit to realize that you are no longer aboard the carrier. That the rattling of pipes and the pelting sound of rain is nothing more than your companion starting the shower in the adjacent room. 

Your eyes blink against the darkness, face snuggled into the too-soft pillow. Only the faintest ray of early morning light is visible through the black-out curtains.

It’s late, about fifteen minutes past your usual wake-up time. With the glowing green digital alarm clock informing you that it’s currently 8:16 am - make that over two hours local time past your usual wake-up.

But you and Seresin clearly were well-oiled military machines who had long passed the use of actual alarms to arise. It also meant that the man’s shower would be short and to the point. So you pull yourself free from the tangle of sheets - stretching your arms out wide with a satisfying crack between your shoulder blades. You yank the sheets back in place, stifling a yawn as you brush the wrinkles out of the pillowcase. 

Sleeping in a real bed, with a mattress and sheets, would be considered a luxury by most. For you, however, sleep had been a distant dream last night. Between the usual lullaby of the constant thrum of the flight deck and the ship itself, you were unaccustomed to the stock silence of a hotel room. 

You distantly wondered if your roommate had fared any better.

Keep reading

[leighsartworks216]

Star-gazing

Yancy x gn!reader x Illinois

Requested by Anon:

“I see you write poly-fics(if I read the post right) and I would like to request a Fluffy fic with my boys yancy and Illinois, maybe something based off prompt 16 with parolee! yancy being able to properly see the stars and illinois and (either fem or gn) Reader telling him different stories behind the constellations”

16. “Star-gazing was a good idea.”

I have not read over this soooooo I hope it's good lmao

Warnings: none

Word Count: 767

Masterlist

“So, uhh…” Yancy stared at the night sky, studying it. His eyes darted from one glowing speck to the next. “Where’s these constellations, exactly?”

Illinois huffed a laugh from your other side. He didn’t spare his boyfriend a glance as he reveled in the wonder of the universe. “Constellations are imaginary lines drawn between stars,” he explained.

Yancy looked over you at the adventurer. “I don’t get it.”

You took Yancy’s hand in yours, lifting them both to point at the sky. “So, you see that bright star right there?”

The jailbird tried to fight the blush creeping up his neck as he nodded.

“Okay.” You pointed to three stars above it. “And these stars?”

“Yeah?”

“And now do you see these stars that kinda form a box?” Your hand shifted to point out the stars.

Yancy followed the motion for a moment, trying to find the exact stars you meant. “Oh!” He lifted his other hand and traced it. “Youse talkin’ about those?”

“Now,” Illinois piped up, “if you connect those stars together with an imaginary line, you get a constellation.”

Your hand in Yancy’s fell back to your side. A moment passed as he studied the constellation. His head tilted one way, and then the other. A frustrated sigh escaped his chest in a huff. “Guys, I don’t sees nothin’. What’s it supposed to be?”

“They’re not supposed to form exact likenesses,” Illi assured him. He shifted to slip his arm under your neck, supporting your head, while also reaching over to fuss with Yancy’s hair. The parolee relaxed at the contact.

“Then what’s it supposed to be?” he asked again.

“I always called it the Little Dipper.”

“Little Dipper?”

“Mhm. Because over there,” you raised your empty hand on Illinois’ side to gesture, “is a big dipper.”

“Why a dipper? The hell even is a dipper?”

“Oh, uhm, like, a ladle,” you explained. “Dipper just flows better, I guess.”

“The original constellation wasn’t formed after a ladle, though.” Illinois points over to the small dipper. “The Little Dipper is actually called Ursa Minor. It means ‘Little’ or ‘Lesser Bear’. And the Big Dipper,” he pointed to it, “is called Ursa Major - ‘Greater Bear’.”

“That’s supposed to be a bear?” he asked, incredulous. “Now youse’s just messin’ with me.”

Illinois chuckled at the implication. “You haven’t even heard the half of it, darlin’. There’s people, snakes, mythical beasts - all sorts of things written into the stars.”

“Ain’t no way there’s a person in all of dat.”

“Oh yeah? See those three stars all in a row right there?”

“You can’t tell me dat’s a person,” he scoffed.

“No, no… That’s his belt.”

Yancy laughed. “Youse’s tellin’ me someone put a belt in da sky?”

“It’s part of a bigger constellation, but, yeah,” Illinois agreed with mirth. “It’s Orion’s Belt.”

“Aha!” Their attention shifted from the sky to you laying in between them. At some point during their banter, you’d pulled out your phone and downloaded an app that showed the different constellations in the sky. You held the device out so both of the men could see the screen and the different constellations the app picked out of the blue. “Ursa Minor, Ursa Major, and Orion!”

Yancy pointed at the screen. “Ohhh, so dat’s Orion,” he pointed at the sky, toward the three stars Illinois had just showed him, “and dat’s his belt.”

“I told you I wasn’t making it up,” Illinois teased from beside you.

“Ah shaddup.”

You passed your phone over to your parolee boyfriend. He tilted and turned it every which way, trying to see every possible constellation he could. When he found a particularly interesting one, he would point it out in the sky. When he went to point out Hydra, however, he was shushed by Illinois.

Yancy looked over, startled out of his awe of the stars. You were curled deep into Illinois’ side, but you still held onto Yancy’s hand. His heart filled with warmth at the sight.

“Bedtime?” he whispered.

Illinois nodded, grinning as he watched Yancy get up and lift you into his arms. You were sandwiched in between an adventurer and a jailbird, tucked warmly and safely into bed. Illinois kissed Yancy and you on the forehead as he got comfortable. Yancy stretched his arms so he was holding on to Illinois and you at the same time.

The next morning, as you all basked in each other’s presence, you asked in a whisper how Yancy liked looking at the stars last night. Illinois wore a knowing grin as Yancy answered, “Star-gazin’ was a good idea.”

[theyarebothgunshot]

i've also been having an unusually hard time finding non-au spn fics recently but here's a couple that i really liked!!

bare skin & bedsheets - adorable post-cas-is-rescued-from-the-empty fic. wip but i'm pretty sure there's only one chapter left. currently 14.8k

somebody to you - really good djinn-fic!! 47.3k

our lights in ashes - a really interesting and very different take on a post-canon fic! really really loved this one, it has soooooo much pining! 68.2k

dsm (dean sewing manifesto) - post-canon (yes. again. i read a lot of post-canon okay?? nsfsg) dean starts sewing. allllll the fluff!!! 5k

hope there's at least one you haven't read yet!! and i hope you like 'em!! 🐞

ohhh thank you so much bestieee!! MWAH! <3

[ticklishlasquadra]

Stop Saying Sorry! (OC Tickle Fic)

Soooooo, in pure me fashion, I almost immediately wrote my new plant bby Florian getting tickled after creating him. This fic also introduces Blume, who is a sunflower creature and Florian’s best friend. Don’t worry, I’ll be drawing Blume shortly.

So yeah, have some cute bff (feet) tickles!

“Florian, you really need to get better at this whole not saying sorry for everything thing,” Blume said with a long, overdramatic sigh.

Florian’s eyes widened and he looked away, his cheeks even pinker than his skin. It was something Blume was trying to work on with him. His friend wanted nothing more than to help him feel like he didn’t need to apologize all the time. It had always been an issue for him, but no one in his family really cared enough to help.

“I’m trying, I really am,” Florian replied with a gentle pout. He was always frustrated with himself, especially when it came to things like that. “I’m so-“

Blume reached over to ruffle the petals of the flower on Florian’s head, making him giggle and try to shy away. “What did I just say, ya dork?” He shook his head, making a soft ‘tsk’ sound. “If you say sorry one more time, I’m going to tickle you, and you KNOW I know where exactly to get ya.”

Florian let out a squeak, feeling a quick jolt of ticklishness go up his spine at the very word. He knew Blume wasn’t lying, and his friend took full advantage of the fact that he was one of the few people that could tickle him in such a playful manner without making him nervous.

“Okay, okay, I won’t!” Florian insisted, eyes averting to the ground. A few silent moments passed, Blume looking over at him with a raised eyebrow.

“…Uhm…” Florian toyed with his fingers a bit nervously.

“Yeah?” Blume’s head tilted to the side.

More silence.

“Ah, I’m sor-!” Florian gasped and immediately slapped a hand over his mouth, but he knew it was no use. He had been caught.

Blume grinned, advancing on Florian. He even wiggled his fingers for good measure. “Ohhh, you’re so gonna get it now!”

Before Florian could even think of begging, he felt thick vines looping around his ankles, tugging them together as he fell right on his butt. “Oof!” he yelped, though it didn’t hurt. His fall was padded by the grass underneath them.

The vines crawled down from Blume’s arms, a few of them coming down from his legs as well. Florian knew that they were strong and he was definitely not getting out of them. Still, he squirmed in his spot, his bare feet twitching.

“W-wait, Blume, I’m sorry-!”

“And there ya go again,” Blume chuckled, settling himself on the grass in front of the rose creature. “Sometimes I think you want me to tickle you,” he teased as his hand slowly reached out towards Florian’s trembling feet.

Florian squirmed even more, his toes curling in anticipation. The two had been friends since they were just small little flowers, and they knew pretty much everything about each other. Which meant Blume wasn’t bluffing - he knew exactly where all his ticklish spots were.

“Blume, Blume, wait, wait, wait!” Florian’s voice got higher pitched as he started to beg. “You don’t h-have to do this!”

Blume simply smirked. “I don’t have to…but I sure want to.”

Without missing a beat, the sunflower creature dragged his long nails up both of Florian’s soles, then back down. Florian immediately burst into loud, melodic laughter, shaking his head incessantly, like it would somehow help the ticklish feelings go away.

“Blume, p-pfft, Blume, BLUHUHUHUHUME!!”

“Florian, Florian, Florian!” Blume parroted back teasingly, scratching lightly at the balls of Florian’s feet.

“Nohohoho, not th-thehehere!!” Florian whined, his feet moving every which way in attempts to escape, but his best friend’s fingers just followed.

Blume hummed in thought. “What was that? Not there? Alright then, I guess I could move somewhere else…”

The fingers stopped their movements, giving Florian a small break as the anticipation of where he would go next built.

Eyes surveyed the rose creature up and down, like Blume was really thinking about his next move. Of course, the bratty little trickster knew exactly where he would attack.

“Alright, how about…” Blume’s fingers moves upwards and immediately started wiggling and teasing under Florian’s toes.

“NOHOHOHOHO!” Florian’s laughter boomed, even louder this time around. “NOT THEHEHERE, NOT THEHEHEHE TOHOHOHOES!”

“What?? I said I’d go somewhere else, this is somewhere else,” Blume admonishes. Another vine, this one thin, slithered down his arm. The vine looped around the spaces between Florian’s toes, holding them back slightly.

“Wow, you sure are squirmy! So, you going to stop saying sorry so much?” Blume asked, worming the nail on his pointer finger between each toe.

Florian howled, his fingers gripping and tugging on the grass underneath him in desperation. “BLUHUHUHUHUME!!”

“That didn’t sound like a yes! Should I help convince you?” Blume knew he was fighting dirty, but if it would help…

Without a second thought, Blume moved his nail to the super sensitive pad of Florian’s big toe, his other hand moving to give the other the same treatment. He gently scratched at the area, instantly getting the reaction he expected.

One of Florian’s hand had pieces of grass in it from how hard he yanked on it, and his other hand was hitting the ground. “I WOHOHOHON’T!” he howled.

“You won’t what?” Blume asked nonchalantly, as if he was just talking about the weather.

“I WOHOHOHON’T SAHAHAHAY SOHOHOHORRY! PLEHEHEHEASE!”

At the squealing proclamation, Blume stopped tickling and the vines that were binding Florian uncurled themselves and crawled back towards their owner.

“Okay, good, that’s all I wanted to hear,” Blume giggled, watching his best friend catch his breath and wipe the beginning of tears that were in his eyes.

The only sound in the air was Florian’s deep breaths, as Blume waited until he was calmed down to do what he did next.

Blume leaned over and looped his arms around his best friend’s midsection, careful of the thorns on Florian’s arms. A flash of fear sparked in Florian’s mind, but it quickly gave way to his stomach filling with comforting warmth.

“It’s really okay if you mess up, y’know. I know I tease you a lot, but I know how hard it is for you…I just tickle ya ‘cuz I think you like it,” Blume smiled, enveloping Florian into a gentle hug.

Florian was too nervous about his thorns to hug back with his arms, so he instead let his own vines wrap around Blume in a light embrace.

“Thank you…” his soft voice barely quivered.

Blume hugged Florian just a little tighter. “For what?”

“For…you. Just you.”

[thatonegayship]

Dear LORD, have I been holding on for this gracious fic to float into my hands, and I am slurping it up like water in the palms of a dying man. Just letting everyone know that I got to peep the earlier concept and play a bit of paper doll with OP because I am so special and cool and sometimes we brush each other's hair while swapping secrets :3 It's like I was let into a Very Exclusive Club and now I get to point at little things like "OH! OH! I KNOW THIS THING I KNOW WHAT'S HAPPENING!!!" I loved seeing your vision for this un-muddled by outside input- it's such a reward reading what makes your brain churn and do a little happy dance!!!!!! Very much a Fan of the build up, and now I must gush about it all to you because you are so important.

The way you set the scene is SOOOOO good. I was already kicking my feet at the knives and gore warning at the top, but your little sprinkles of scenery really added to the ambiance! Very much a Dark and Foreboding place poor Dipper has been born into. His parents are even worse NOW than they were in his previous life if they willingly let their baby boy just LIVE in that sort of environment! Seriously! No enrichment at all!!! Very mad, very sad, this place is bad, poor little lad :(

I love the subversion of expectations with the whole Human Sacrifice thing going on, at least at the start. It makes sense that they would value humans at least somewhat over livestock and not just go all willy-nilly slasher style on their volunteer, when all they really need is a bit of blood. I don't know why, it's the fact that Dipper was forced against his will, but ultimately didn't expect things to escalate to the extent that they did that makes that eventual payoff so nice. I was reading through it at first, and for a moment I was like ??? Why isn't he freaking out more? It's a HUMAN SACRIFICE!!! Freak out! Scream! Bite someone's ear off if you can! It didn't occur to me that Dipper might not be freaking out that hard because he didn't think it would be that *bad.* Of course, human sacrifices are hard to get people behind generally, but it's worse when your cult is already small. The "sacrifice" is more symbolic than anything. Like donating blood! Only there are no needles or sweet treats at the end and also they decide that your offering wasn't sufficient enough and now they need to de-juice you.

Being a sad, angsty girl myself, I was actually a massive fan of the whole blood letting thing, and now it has taken over my brain. You're telling me they just pulled Dipper's arm out and slashed him like that??? Ohhh mama, I am ENJOYING this. Firstly, because now Bill's gotta get all fussy over his little injury and bandage it all up and give Dipper confusing feelings since No One Has Ever Done That For Him Before. And also??? THE SCAR???? Presuming Bill doesn't just magic it all better, nothing gets my dick harder than a big, fat scar that symbolizes soooooo much pain and anguish. That was the day he almost *died.* Hear that? They were gonna hold him down and slash his other arm out of zealous frenzy and Let Him Die. I'm embellishing since we don't know for *sure,* but we do. Deep down, we do. And Isn't it just fantastic that I get to let my little brain run wild in your story and turn everything dark and sad because Dipper's just sooooo pathetic, he needs kisses to keep going? I love how you set this up more logically; I just expected them to hold him down and for the priest guy to ready his knife over Dipper's heart with some blah blah yada yada prayer about spiritual nourishment, before BOOM! Bill kicks down the door and makes out sloppy style in front of the zealous on-lookers.

NGL, had my heart pounding just before the letting. Like, of course I can't actually feel it, but I could *feel* it, you know? Amazing descriptive powers, you beamed me with the pain on full blast and I instinctively clasped my wrist out of sympathy. May whoever pushed Dipper out of line always be out of toilet paper and have severe stomach problems.

It's funny that the priest didn't actually expect any of this to work. You'd think the leader would have more faith in his own religion, but it likely started getting to his head that maybe *he* was a sort of god, too, or at least a Very Special Human. To be fair, it seems he's convinced them to go pretty dang far down the rabbit hole of craziness, and farther still to the point that they actually suggested *Bleeding Dipper More.* Okay, okay, so it's clear from earlier texts that Dipper was a clear nay-sayer throughout this whole experience, and likely asked some Not Easy questions that got the other cult members in a tizzy, so I'm assuming some of it was just plain ol' meanness and wanting to punish him more, because screw THAT guy for thinking for himself when they have a perfectly good latin book full of outdated facts and several torn out pages. I get the feeling the congregation was against him from the start, and it just so happened they saw an opportunity to make shit worse for him, because why not? They ALREADY cut his tongue out! Might as well go the full mile and ruin what little life he has left, right?

God, I am EXCITED to see Bill's reaction once he realizes Dipper's tongue is missing. Honestly, I'd love to read about Dipper actually *losing* said tongue- yes, I am an angst junky, I want to read about him screaming and fighting and sobbing and begging and fighting some more while he's being held down and the crowd sings over his screams with various verses in blissful indifference. I want him to SHAKE afterwards, and to be so freaking traumatized, mentally and physically. How long does it take him trying to speak to accept that no one understands him, and no one's listening? Do they sew his wound with a needle and thread, or cauterize it to stop the bleeding? Does he lose his appetite? Does he still feel his non existent tongue in his mouth? How long does the pain last? Does it ever truly go away? These are the important questions I offer you today.

Yes yes sorry, so Bill is blissfully unaware that his lovely husband has been properly de-tongued, and now he can't get frisky and french kiss his freaking face off, not unless he wants to feel like a worm in a bowl. To see his reaction once he realizes would be AMAZING, but I'm also looking forward to the miscommunication, because you just *know* he's gonna get suspicious real quick over Dipper's vow of silence. Huh? Can't talk at *all?* Come on! He's your sticking god, for christ's sake! He's giving a green light here! Say what you like! Have a blast! Run wild with it! Just freaking SOMETHING! Dipper is very >:( about his god openly mocking him for his tongue-less-ness, since- well, turns out this god IS real, which likely means a chunk of what he learned about him would *also* be real. So of COURSE Bill knows his tongue was cut out! It's hard to miss the first couple of weeks he spent curled in on himself, moaning with pain and aguish and shame while healing from his injuries, and the months proceeding that he had to get used to the idea of never speaking again. At the very least, he heard the snide remarks his fellow cult members made on Dipper's behalf, since this is all just Their God exacting Revenge on him for Speaking Out of Turn. Bill is so, so cruel for his little game.

Oh, but how SWEET that stab was! I actually squealed. Short, sweet, inconsequential. Bill dusts his hands off and goes on with his day, because he gives zero shits about some hack running a sub-par cult in his name, when really, the guy just had a massive ego and enjoyed ordering everybody around. Didn't even use one of Bill's artifacts! That's how you KNOW he's a poser! Talk about a let down! Bill lifts his spirits by making the cult members do the chicken dance, before giving his husband's new form a decent look! Huh! STILL cute, as all the other ones were! A bit shaken, and looking pretty pale from the blood loss, but if there isn't something in those eyes! His soul's just swimming around in em! Bill can't wait to pamper and annoy him in their new life together! I am very excited to see how it comes to pass <3

Incredible, stellar, kissing you kissing you kissing you!!! I truly enjoyed the whole thing- sorry if I missed any crucial details, I am very tired sadly and typing this moments before blacking out, so I will just say it again: LOVE IT!!!! Eating it out of your hands like a skittish, hesitant horse who, up til now, hasn't taken a liking to any of the riders on pa's farm, but for whatever reason, lets you near enough to brush my matted mane.

Here's a thing! Reincarnation of Dipper who's not in the best of situations. (A Cult)

Got some gore and knives in here so watch out!

In the room of ritual, everything is ready. 

Off in that wide and majestic space, the candles are lit. The circle is drawn. The altar spread with gold and trinkets, little offerings of delight and whimsy, tomes of knowledge. Along with the remnants of the latest sacrifice, dried in long trails down the stone.

The tomes, though. If one looked closely, they would see mostly encyclopedia volumes from like, sixty years ago. Because, yeah, those are going to be so tempting for a being of infinite knowledge.

Long chanting rings through the hallways, preparing the way. The ritual is in less than an hour. In preparation for the service, the servants of their lord make themselves presentable. 

Dipper adjusts his robe - too big for him, by at least one size- and pulls at the neckline. It always drags up against his throat, in a tight, uncomfortable way. He tugs it down again, glaring into the small mirror on the otherwise bare wall.

Bill Cipher is the most powerful being in the universe, and his reach is infinite and his discernment of the mind and mastery of mysteries is unquestionable, yadda yadda yadda. 

Dipper just. Doesn’t know what everyone else here expects to happen. Especially with the setup unchanged from the one he saw last year. And the year before that. And the one before that. 

Odds are, this ritual is going to end up the same as every other one. 

Pointless.

Dipper adjusts his robes again, and smooths out the front with slow strokes. As long as this is going to happen, he might as well avoid drawing attention to himself. He’s had enough ‘attention’ for more than a lifetime.

There’s a rhythm to these ceremonies.  Dipper hears the footsteps, and easily tucks the hood of his robe up, only semi-stumbling as he joins the twin lines of robed figures leading into the ritual room. 

As he tucks his hands together, covering them with long sleeves - Dipper spends another moment to silently sigh. 

He joins the line, ducking his head as he joins in formation. The two lines of followers shuffle on with their long robes brushing the floor. He can hear them whispering to each other; varying levels of excitement, boredom. Talking about plans for after the ritual. He thinks he picks up one of the more devout members, almost humming with anticipation.

Despite the murmurs, the sight itself could be quite impressive. An all-seeing eye, if it was real, might even appreciate it.

Still, all these dramatics are so over the top. Just as fruitless and stupid as every other prayer, or ritual. Never worked before, not gonna work now. Dipper’s not sure why they’re trying the same freakin’ thing, over and over again.

For a bunch of people obsessed with the infinite power and knowledge Cipher represents, they haven’t accrued any. 

And for that matter! If Bill Cipher’s eye is truly all-seeing, why hasn’t he ever responded? His triangle is emblazoned on every wall, and on their robes. You can’t look at a surface without seeing it staring back at you, and there’s no short of devout worshipers, constantly praying and doing rites. 

Dipper dares a glance at one of the long scrawls on the walls, seething slightly at the handwriting. And the grammar.

If he was watching, surely he would have spoken up by now. Even if it’s just to critique the decor, which is tacky as hell.

The main ritual room fills up with warm bodies, and Dipper stands in an inconspicuous place. Just to the left, and not quite entirely in the back. At the front of the room, he can see the priest nodding approvingly, hands tucked behind his back. 

Hidden under the sleeves, Dipper clenches his hands together. Breathing out a silent prayer of his own, to nobody particular. He can stand stock-still through one or two more ridiculous rituals, if it means no more prayers to a blind idiot god.

A week. Maybe two. That’s it.

Then he’ll be out of these robes, and far, far away from here. He’ll never see these people again. He’ll never have to chant a single verse again in slightly incorrect Latin. He’ll never have to kneel, or go before that stone altar again, not even once.

The outside world is - there’s a lot of talk about it. There’s always a lot of talk, more or less colored by personal experiences and levels of permission to go ‘outside’. Dipper’s learned, now, that well over ninety percent of the gossip is lies. 

If his palms still sweat at the prospect, it’s because it’s… New. Different. But it can’t possibly be worse than here, and, like. Novelty is condoned by his not-really-a-god. Trying new things should be standard doctrine - if the priest wasn’t a total idiot.

Not much longer, now. 

Out there, things will be better. Out there, Dipper will have a chance at having a life. 

And there won’t be any trouble, since he’ll keep his mouth shut.

 “Children of Cipher!” The high-pitched voice of the priest rings tinnily through the air. “We are once again assembled!”

Dipper bows in concert with his fellows. Staring at the ground is a good way to not roll his eyes. 

A chant rises up, and he keeps his lips clamped together as he mirrors the ritual bowing and scraping and general genuflection. The priest will go on and on, no matter what he does. 

All it takes to get through this is time. Another round of kneeling, then standing, then kneeling, until they stand at the last word in a thronging chorus.

“Brothers!” A louder, shriller call, now that everyone has been drawn close to a fervor. For all his faults, the priest does know how to read the mood - “Tonight is a special evening!” His arms thrown up, spindly and bare as the sleeves drop near to his shoulders. “Who will bleed for our god?”

The only thing that prevents Dipper from flinching is how much attention that would draw.

He hardly dares to breathe, lest some wayward motion be taken as ‘enthusiasm.’ 

Dipper keeps his head bowed, as murmurs start up around him and  his forehead starts to prickle with sweat. 

Sacrifices happen all the time. Mostly animals. Last year they got a goat, and that was considered a pretty big one and the stew afterwards was filling, and probably tasted pretty good. 

Human blood, though. That’s - They haven’t done this in years. 

The susurration of voices in the background grow louder, and Dipper stays bowed in place. Of course nobody wants to volunteer; ‘willing’ isn’t easily found when it comes to getting a knife in your flesh - but someone’s going to bleed, tonight. The ‘volunteer’ bit will be justified by whatever’s convenient.

Around him there’s murmurs, a few, low arguments. Tension is starting to rise, but for the most part, he’s being overlooked.

He nearly thinks he’s gotten away with it, too, when a hard shove on his back sends him stumbling forward.

“Here, brothers!” The voice rings in Dipper’s ears as he tries to backtrack, slipping on the robes of the person in front of him and dropping painfully to the floor. “The provider!”

Shit, shit, shit. 

Dipper tries to glance back at whatever asshole pushed him, but the crowd’s already grouped together into a bunch of faceless clumps, drawing back from his fall. 

He levels the worst glare he can manage, even as both his arms are seized by two of his so-called ‘brothers’. The big ones. 

Gritting his teeth, Dipper digs in his heels. Struggling’s ineffective, protesting’s impossible. Gesturing wildly, including a raised finger in the general direction of the asshole who pushed him, Dipper gets dragged to the foot of the altar. 

“See how he offers his flesh! See how he shakes with joy!” The priest jogs his arms in the air. Dipper shakes his head rapidly holding up his hands. “His arms, already offered!”

And for a moment Dipper’s simply annoyed at how obvious it is that the whole damn ritual is a farce. 

“Tonight, we call upon the god! Tonight! We-”

Whatever else he’s yelling about, Dipper doesn’t pay any mind. He’s busy trying to use the loose robes to worm his way out of the guards’ grip. It halfway works, until one of them gets him by the bare wrist and painfully pulls it out.

The cold stone hits his waist. One of his sleeves is drawn to his shoulder. His arm pinned, bare and wrist upraised, on the stone. 

Damn it, if he finds out who shoved him, he’s going to - he arches up, but firm hands hold his shoulders. There’s little time to think about revenge when he’s trying to find a way out of this. Arm, stuck. Shoulders, held. The exits, totally blocked by a bunch of crowded figures. 

In a way, Dipper can’t truly blame them. After all, if the current sacrifice got away, who knows? 

They could be next. 

The priest seems pleased, at least. He paces in front of the altar, gesticulating wildly, and rambling on about god and blood, and other nonsensical bullshit.

Great. They have their ‘sacrifice’ for tonight. So, so super ‘willing’ too, what with how he, quote ‘rushed to offer himself’, end quote. 

Dipper takes a long breath, holding it for three beats. Then he lets it out. 

Okay. If this follows most other ‘human sacrifices’, it should be bearable. Some bloodletting, a nasty scar. Maybe a missing finger, but he’s learned to deal with worse. Push through the moment, wait for it to be over. Soon enough, he’ll be on the other side of this entire godawful situation.

Focusing on the transitory nature of pain helps him steady his breathing. And more importantly, slow his heart rate.

Calming meditation. He can work on that. Though it’s difficult, with the way the priest keeps going on and on about an ‘auspicious night’. Also, the very large, curved, very sharp-looking knife.

Dipper tries his best not to stare at it. Or to linger too much on the thought of knives and flesh and blood. If he could stop thinking, for once in his stupid life, it’ll be over before he knows it.

That’s totally not not the usual knife, though. He wonders where the hell it came from.

Last time, it was some basic utilitarian repurposed chef-thing, with a crudely engraved triangle on the hilt and the blade. This one’s much more… Ceremonial. Sharper, too, with a wicked curve and a gleaming edge, and covered in runes that Dipper’s never seen before.

He mouths a swear as one guard uncurls his fingers from the edge of the altar, turning his wrist back upright. The priest waves the very, very sharp blade around, yelling something that Dipper doesn’t bother parsing, even as his mind races. He can tell it’s definitely not Cipher runes on that thing, and not the old Latin their god prefers. Did someone go outside to find this? Another random artifact that the priest got his hands on? Seems like he’s always picking up useless semi-magic items.

The knife doesn’t feel ‘useless’, though, even from a glance. It radiates a pure and terrifying purpose. 

Especially as it comes down, and rests against his wrist. Almost gently, its point bites a drop of blood from his skin.

The fetid breath of the priest pants over the altar. Dipper turns away, neck twisting as far as he can manage, eyes shut.

Please let this be just a bit. Just a drop. A small, tentative cut to fill a bit of the channels on the stone. There’s a sting to the metal, a slight burn, and though Dipper’s not one of the main Holders of Mysteries or anything, he feels like that’s a very bad sign.

Then he feels. Cold.

It runs down his inner arm, lingering for an instant before blossoming into sharp, bright pain. He nearly chokes on air, cringing into a hunched position as he feels the knife slide.

The catching drag of the old knife would have been painful, but that was mostly used for taking a finger, or maybe dragging across the back of the arm, in a more decorative than productive way of drawing blood. 

The ease with which this knife cuts sends a deep, swirling nausea straight to the pit of his stomach.

“Behold, the flow! The magic gathers, my children!” THe priest’s voice warbles a bit as “With this tool, with this magic, our god will hear our call! He will behold our devotion, and raise us to glory! He will answer-” More and more words, variations on encouragement. Zero substance, all hype. A fanatical motivation speaker, Dipper thinks, half-hysterically. 

Vapid or not, the result is effective. The sight of blood has certainly spurred everyone into a kind of frenzy, whether from fear or fervor, Dipper doesn’t care.

And they’re certainly getting a lot of blood. More than required.

Dipper struggles up against the hold, but it’s pointless. He ‘s stuck there for a few long minutes, oozing out for an audience that can’t even see half the damn thing, and it hurts. 

The red trail gathers, slowly pooling down and into the engraven triangle. Enough to fill the shallow channels easily, which, uh. Dipper’s never seen before. With the other sacrifices it kind of stopped and clotted, but this moves like it’s being wicked along the surface.

He makes a face as  his blood slowly travels through the lines, but can’t see any surface changes, or feel anything that might have been put on the stone.  

Until it connects at the top point. Then it meets, completing the image of Bill with a strange, too-bubbly ‘blorp’. 

Okay. Weird. But that’s plenty, right? Ritual done, blood offered, and now, he should get going.

Lurching upward gets the grip to loosen up on his arms, as the guards loosen their grip a bit. They already have what they need, and hell. Dippers deserves a friggin’ break. With the immediate attention off him, he can dare a glance at his arm - 

And instantly averts his gaze to absolutely anything else. 

The priest turns around, arms raised. Pumping them  in the air, knife glinting in the candlelight. “Yes. Yes!” He swings the blade around, nearly catching one of the big brothers in the side. “See how easily the liquid flows. The power builds! I can feel it - the summoning, in this room tonight!”

The crowd calls out their enthusiasm, a high rising ‘oooh’ noise. 

Dipper sighs, and tries to scoot back away from the altar. It’s done, at least; he’ll just have to cope with the aftermath. Could be worse.

“The other arm, brothers!” A loud, clarion call. Dipper whips his head around,  as the priest lowers his arms - and turns back around. Pointing at Dipper. Again. “I feel the blade crave more!” 

Uh, hello? What?

Dipper glances up at the knife. At how the slight sheen of blood has dipped into some of the runes, the faint glow -  and goes ‘huh’. 

Alright, he’ll admit. It’s definitely magical. 

But he’s beginning to suspect it has less to do with Bill, and a lot more to do with other forces. Ones that might, say, make a ritual flow smoothly. Or make a fanatical asshole even more bloodthirsty.

Behind him, he almost feels the guards shrug, right before he gets shoved against the altar again. One of the assholes even dares to pat his side, in a brief bit of unexpected sympathy. Not that it means anything. 

Dipper longs to curse them out, to scream at every single one of these absolute jackasses. Every one of them is just watching this happen. Nobody thinks about what happens next, ever, including - 

He grits his teeth instead, hard enough that he thinks something might crack.

Everyone follows orders. The words of their supposed ‘god’, filtered through a man who’s fallible and frail and frankly fucking stupid.  Always getting stupid magical trinkets. Always trying to find a link to that demonic god, constantly pursuing magic, and power, and influence. No matter the cost.

Why would he care if one of the too-few worshipers pays the price?

And fuck that.

Before, Dipper struggled as much as he could. Partly from fear, sure. But mostly to make a point. That this was stupid and painful, and wasn’t going to do anything anyway. Knowing that with enough kicking and protest, he might get them to cut things short.

Now, seeing the priest whip the blade back around, raising overhead with both hands - he fights.

A solid kick lands in the left guard’s groin, and he gets his wounded arm back. Dipper clutches it to his chest, but the other’s still pinned and being twisted, now. Another kick gets something softer, and he hears a huff from the priest. Then a loud, angry order to ‘Hold him down!’.

Dipper’s shoved into the stone, stomach digging into the edge of the altar hard enough to make him gag. His head hits the surface, more dizzying than painful. There's a hand gripped in his hair. Then his other sleeve is drawn up, his healthy arm extended over the table. Bare skin exposed, lying over the bloody surface. 

He breathes heavily, nose nearly against the altar. It quickly grows hot from his breath, and moist, too, which is probably why his face feels wet. He doesn’t hear anything but his own harsh panting. 

He never wanted to be a part of this, he never wanted to grow up like this. In a week or so, he was going to get out, and now he’s going to get hurt again, so soon, and he only has so much blood in him. He doesn’t want to die. He shuts his eyes, tucking up against himself. Hoping the weight of his body will drag his arm away where his own strength couldn’t, choking back a tightness in his throat. He was nearly out. He was nearly safe.

He was almost free. 

He breathes harder, shutting his eyes tight. He presses his forehead against the runes, and the blood, and just wishes he wasn’t here. 

Metal clangs on the floor, ringing bright as a bell. 

There’s a sudden intake of breath. Dipper feels the hands release him, a shocked sound. Then the ‘flump’ of a lot of draped fabric, all at once. 

Dipper keeps his face against the stone, breathing slower. That’s. That’s not how any ritual goes.

He can’t waste the opportunity, though. Now that his arms are free, Dipper pulls his sleeve back up, bundling it around the cut. Shit. Does he clench his fist or leave his grip loose? Which one slows blood flow. 

Whatever interrupted this isn’t going to last. He’s only got a few seconds before everyone comes back to whatever passes for their senses, and tries to ‘complete the summoning’, or whatever the hell they were after.

Gotta act. Gotta - Dipper wheels around, panting for breath. 

In front of the altar, all the robed figures in the room have fallen to their knees. The priest’s dropped the knife. Dipper scoots it a little closer to himself with a foot, watching as the zealot raises his arms in devout praise. 

Dipper pauses. Still clenching tight on his wrist, though his sleeve is starting to feel damp. Things don’t just stop like that. The ritual has to continue. People should be surging up to keep the momentum, but the entire room is -

Oh. 

Yeah, now he sees it. 

All the candles were lit before. They give a little light to a room that’s never seen electronics in its life, dim as it is. 

Right now, they’re bursting with flame, rising high enough to cast weird shadows over the cavern - 

And it’s a very bright blue. 

Shit.

Dipper whirls around, unsteady on his feet. Staring at a long, long trail of rising blood. Almost a string, or a reverse droplet, floating up from the triangle carved on the stone. In midair it spreads into a thin web, shapeless and vaguely pulsing. 

Okay. That is definitely magical. And absolutely up to no good. 

He fumbles around - where did he kick the knife? Maybe if he breaks it, it’ll interrupt this whole thing. Who knows what the hell that idiot priest did, or where he got the artifact, or what it does. 

Dipper doesn’t know much about gods, or spirits, or demons, but anything that gets pulled in by a blood sacrifice can’t be a good sign. He spots the damn thing near the opposite corner, and braces himself on the altar. It he’s careful, he can reach it without alerting anyone. Maybe.

Which is when the entire hall fills with bright, loud laughter.

“Well, well, well, well, well!” The voice rings just as brightly as the laugh. Dipper jerks towards the sound, involuntarily, only to see a single eye open inside the breath web of blood. “What do we have here?”

There’s a resounding groan from the crowd. Various people start chanting, but they’re all using different verses, and the priest starts his own, presumably improvised, wail of praise and devotion. The end result is an ear-rattling clamor. 

Dipper looks back at the altar. Watching the blood twist in this way, and that. The eye alights on him for a moment - he freezes - but it moves on from him quickly, examining the room.

There’s a lot to see, too. Maybe terrified, devout worshipers isn’t weird for a supernatural entity, but it’s thoroughly freaking Dipper out. Even the priest is on his knees.

“Boy, it’s been a while since I’ve had this kinda summon!” The net stretches, almost elastic; twisting into limblike shapes, and fractal forms. The slit-pupiled eye rolls back and forth. Then it blinks twice. “Might as well get dressed for the occasion! Hold on a sec.”

The eye shuts into nothingness. Moments later, the blood starts getting really active, pulsing faster, twisting into shapes like it’s alive.

Dipper spares a terrified check on his wrist, but. No, he’s not feeding it, or anything. This is something else. Someone else, taking the material and lending it power enough to grow. 

Even as he watches, there’s a spreading arch of bone and the twist of veins. A fairly glorpy assortment of something between and below what looks like ribs, a strange thick blackness tinged with yellow…

He cringes back, and shuts his eyes. Shit, watching this is deeply unsettling. 

Not that it’s gory, per se - that would imply that something’s being taken apart, when it shouldn’t be. This is something being put together, a way that it shouldn’t ever be.

He backs up a step from the writhing mass, getting more fleshy by the instant. Then grimaces, teetering in place. Blood loss, right. From the asshole who started this whole thing. He levels a glare at said asshole - 

But. Beside him, the priest is quivering with tension. Trembling like he didn’t expect this to happen.

Frankly? Neither did Dipper. For all the times they’ve done a ritual, there’s never been a reaction like this. 

This insane mass, forming insanely out of nothing. Or well, from blood, that spread out in a weird three-dimensional - triangle, oh shit -

He should have known. Should have noticed. This was a summon, and while the object used wasn’t for the right being, maybe that doesn't’ matter with so much gathered intent. 

This is….

Dipper falls, awkwardly, to his knees. Then ducks down in as low a bow as he can manage, pulling the hood of his robe back over his head.

Part of him thought Bill didn’t exist, or at least not in the way these guys talked about him. Maybe they’d latched onto some other spirit or deity, and completely misinterpreted everything. Maybe they’d made it all up, including some of the really old texts. There was never any evidence that their lord and master was real.  

But given what’s happening here…

Like hell is he gonna look like the only person who doesn’t. 

Something - two things - go ‘clack’ on the altar. A few series of taps. 

Then a long, pleased sigh, and the sound of soft movement, like cloth.

Dipper keeps looking down. The hood keeps him anonymous, another faceless shape in the crowd. Just one more figure genuflecting before his - 

Before a god. 

One that might not even deserve a capital letter on the word, perhaps, but still an entity that he should not, under any circumstances, piss off. 

There’s a tap that sounds like a shoe, and a low hum. Something lands beside him with a thud. In the brief moment that he raises his head, Dipper catches sight of black loafers, and long fingers on an oddly human-looking hand. 

He quickly lowers himself more towards the floor, holding his arm tight. 

Yep, just one more super-devoted believer, same as all the others. Super not important enough to notice.

“You know, blood’s usually for blood gods!” Bill Cipher’s voice rings through the room. It’s higher than Dipper expected it to be. One of the fancy-looking black shoes kicks the knife up into the air, where it’s caught by the long fingers of that hand. “Pretty wild for you guys to pull this. With another guy’s artifact, of all things!” A chiding tut, and the knife twirls. “And pretty disrespectful, I gotta say.”

“My lord.” The priest’s voice is dry, even for a guy who already sounded half-dessicated. He rises to his knees, hands clasped together. “We meant no disrespect. We are here to serve you, master. As we always have.”

“Uh huh,” Bill says. In Dipper’s limited sight, he toys idly with the knife, pressing the tip against the finger of an opposite hand. A bead of something dark wells up, and he rubs his fingers together. 

The priest recites several lines of a chant, making a triangle with his fingers. So eager, and so totally missing the disinterest in Bill’s tone- “We have always been searching for you, our worship unending! You honor us with your presence. You shine upon us your infinite glory!”

“Sure you have,” Bill says, sounding, if anything, bored. The blade in his hand flips around between his fingers, then back again. The motion reminds Dipper of a very deadly fidget spinner. “Do tell.”

Which is when the priest surges up, nearly grabbing onto Bill’s thigh. He’s only stopped by a rapid sidestep. 

Dipper cringes back out of secondhand embarrassment. Bad move. Dumb move. ‘Devoted’ or not, Bill was bored already - and infinite beings of pure energy do not like being manhandled by mortals. 

“Let us use this connection, and the blade! Let us complete the sacrifice.” The priest continues, undeterred. Shuffling closer on his knees, he spreads his arms wide, inviting and eager. “The blood could grant you all your power, that you might grant us-”

“Pass.” Bill says dismissively. The knife flashes, and there’s a wet, solid ‘thunk’. 

Dipper catches a brief glimpse of the priest’s face - stuck in shock, pale and lined with age - just before his body falls to the floor, as limp as a ragdoll. The knife handle in his chest props him up at a weird angle, before a swift kick from a black shoe sends it tumbling down the short three steps of the dais.

Dipper cringes into a smaller ball, trying to scrunch himself into invisibility. He watches Bill pass in front of him, standing in front of the crowd. The hand rests on a hip, while the other is raised out of site. Still far, far too close.

On the one hand, Bill’s examining the congregation. Distracted, for a moment. Staying out of his attention is so, so great. 

Dipper curls up in a much, much tighter ball despite that. 

In every single one of his plans to get out of here, Bill Cipher existing wasn’t a factor. Much less his actual, physical presence. All he’d ever thought about was how this was bullshit, that the people he knew were awful - and how hopefully, nobody would notice if he left. Now the ‘god’ himself is here. Standing so near Dipper he could, if he wanted, stupidly touch the hem of his pants.

A distant, insane part of him chimes in with the stupid idea that it’s nothing to really worry about. 

Like, compared to how he’s still losing blood, for example. 

Right. Staunch first, panic later.

Dipper wraps his sleeve around his arm, as subtly as he can, teeth gritted. His first priority is to stop bleeding. No escape plan - or any plan for that matter - is going to be useful if he dies. 

The immensely powerful nightmare god is also a problem, obviously. But in this moment he’s not the immediate threat. 

“Hmmm.” Bill lets out a low, contemplative hum. It resonates in the room, with how deathly silent things have become. “Let’s see here…”

After a pause, he snaps his fingers. “Stand!” 

The entire congregation leaps to their feet. One of them stumbles and gets a swift kick in the side.

“Sit!” Bill commands. Everyone drops to the floor. A low chuckle, then, “Turn around three times and bark like a dog!”

Oh, now that won’t - 

Or maybe it will. Dipper cringes, back pressed against the altar. Don’t just comply, what the hell. Sure it’s a magical god-being, but - fuck. He watches the scene with a grimace. 

Bill, though, seems to be having a great time. He’s bouncing in place, voice bright with enthusiasm. “Do a little dance! Twist yourself until your joints snap! Hell, start a fight with the guy next to you!”

There’s havoc in the room of ritual. Robed figures practically fall all over themselves, and Dipper notes with a nauseating turn that some of them have drawn knives of their own. Chaos reigns; an entire scramble to do each possible thing, all at once. 

And Bill’s laughter rings out over everything, clapping his hands in delight.

Dipper’s trapped in this room with an insane madman, leading a horde of equally insane idiots, and he doesn’t have a way out. He hopes he’ll stay out of notice. He hopes that he’ll live through the next five minutes.

There’s no controlling the situation, but he can improve his odds.

The altar’s pretty close, and Bill’s turned away, for the moment. Dipper scoots back, inching himself towards the corner. With enough shuffling, he might be able to move behind it and get out of sight. 

“Welp,” Bill claps his hands again, this time with finality. Some of the chaos stills. “You’re all annoying, boring little vermin, but maybe you guys could improve. I noticed the blood you used to summon me was real choice stuff!” The exaggerated sound of a kiss. “Very nice.”

Dipper feels sweat building up in his robes, and tries to be very still. Basically part of the ritual scenery. Anonymous furniture, at best.  

“In fact. It was so nice.” The voice continues, at a lower tone. Almost a purr. There’s a clack of shoes on stone. “Let’s see who this little treat is!”

The god seizes Dipper’s wrist - the wounded one, sending a bolt of pain down his arm - and clamps his palm around it, incredibly tight. 

Before he knows it, Dipper’s standing again, involuntarily, staring past his hood into a bright, glowing eye.

He’s meeting his god. He’s been noticed by Bill Cipher. 

So far he’s not trembling, so. That’s one thing he has going for him. 

Bill’s eye flicks down, then up again, almost thoughtful. Any question about his power is quickly tossed aside, because holy shit; the magic is nearly palpable, thrumming into Dipper’s skin and making his heart race. 

He’s also sporting a bright, wide grin, in a face that makes Dipper do a double-take.

Like. He thought - he glances at the triangle on the back of the wall, then to the person in front of him. 

Okay, it’s said that Bill Cipher can take any form he wants, human included, but, like. What?

Thankfully, Bill doesn’t seem to notice any of the insane, stupid things Dipper is thinking. All he does is raise his hand, and with one quick motion, sweep the hood off of Dipper’s head. 

Dipper flinches back. Jaw clenched, eye shut. 

Shit, shit, shit. Special attention. All the scenarios he can think of say ‘not good’. Best case scenario, it’s because Bill wants to thank him, for... Whatever his blood did. The rest of them involve increasingly terrifying ideas about what ‘nice blood’ means, and how much of it Bill might want. All of it, say. Maybe immediately. 

Dipper can’t pull away, not with such a strong hold on his arm. Fighting is downright dumb. Trembling’s happening, despite his best efforts, and the intrusive thought bubbles up that, hey, at least there’s lots of pressure on his wound. Could be worse.

Nothing happens. For several seconds.

Eventually, Dipper peeks an eye open. 

There’s Bill Cipher, looking back at him. His eye is literally lit up, the pleased grin wide on his face. 

Dipper waits for an order, but the god doesn’t speak. He just wiggles his eyebrows. If anything, he looks oddly… expectant?

Fuck. Dipper has to do something. 

What the hell, there isn’t any doctrine for this.

Sure, he knows all of the catechism, and each chant he was taught. He’s got an encyclopedic memory of everything he was taught about this powerful interdimensional god-being, he knows every ritual back and forth. The tenets spring to mind, unbidden: Be obedient, speak his words, serve him in all ways - and most of all, don’t think. 

But Dipper can’t chant. He hasn’t been told to do anything yet. And though it’d be a death sentence, if serving involves more bleeding he’d be tempted to kick again. Hell, he literally just watched everyone else trying the other bits. They did exactly what they were supposed to, and that was ‘boring’. 

He never could stop thinking, though. 

Now, his mind is racing.

A little-known and never-preached fact about Bill Cipher is that he doesn’t, actually, like rules all that much - 

So. 

Dipper offers a hesitant, closed-mouth smile. He wiggles the fingers of his free hand, a bit awkwardly, in greeting. 

Then ducks his head again, wishing he still had a hood to cover his face.

That didn’t make it weird, right? That’s a normal, devout thing to do. Coming from a totally religious guy, who’s only slightly damp from all the sweating.

“Oh.” Bill’s voice lowers to something like a purr. He tucks a knuckle under Dipper’s chin, lifting him to meet his single eye again. An eye that’s glowing now, bright gold and  half-lidded. “Ten outta ten on the offering, guys. Very cute.” 

Which is a little weird, but probably - 

“Y’know what?” And Bill’s grin widens, bright and wild, as his thumb strokes Dipper’s chin. “I like this one.”

Uh oh.

Dipper tries sinking down into his oversized robes, but Bill just fishes around inside them until he can pull Dipper up again by his undershirt. 

“In fact,” Bill declares, sounding proud. He pulls Dipper in closer, hand still clamped painfully tight on his wounded wrist. “I’m gonna keep him.”

What?

Immediately after that declaration, Dipper’s tugged in close, thumping against his side. Bill turns to start barking orders at the congregation, a sneer in his voice and a 

Dipper can’t quite parse it. He’s still running over the words in his head. 

In the ritual room, the candles flare even higher, temperature rising to an uncomfortable degree. Dipper watches two worshipers collide with each other in their frantic obedience, and can’t even laugh about it.

‘Keep’, Bill said. 

What does that mean? Everything here is already ‘Bill’s’, in a way. But the way he said it sounded… oddly specific. 

A hopeful part of Dipper chimes in that it might just mean ‘not let him bleed out’, but he’s never been that lucky before, and there’s no reason it would start now.

With everything else going on. With the presence of a god. e. 

The cultists are bustling about; a few of them deposit things near Bill’s feet, like gifts upon the altar. Boxes, totems, more lit candles that Bill idly kicks over onto one of their robes, watching them flail at the sudden burst of fire. 

Eventually, Bill considered the task ‘done’, or close enough. He sighs, shaking his head. “About time, guys! Talk about slow. Hard to get good followers these days.”

Bill clicks his tongue in distaste, then snaps his fingers.

Dipper hears a weird ‘zmmm’ sound to his left. He notices that Bill’s suit is really soft material, and also that he probably shouldn’t be grabbing it like this. 

He doesn’t dare look at the sound. Not when Bill’s turned towards him with smug pride, like he’s pulled off a plan without a hitch. 

“Man, it's only been fifteen minutes, and I’ve had it with these losers.” Bill gives the congregation a look of disgust, then turns back to Dipper. That grin reemerges like the sunrise. “Screw these guys, am I right?”

This time, Dipper’s smile is involuntary. He quashes it fast, but not before Bill notices.

“That’s what I thought.” Bill says, with deep pleasure. He takes a step closer to the altar, pulling Dipper along with a surprising lack of force. “So! What’d’ya say we ditch this joint?”

Dipper doesn’t know what that means. He doesn’t know what’s been happening, either, other than it’s all been going way too fast.

But Bill Cipher is looking at him, still. Present, powerful. Eager for a response. 

Dipper just shrugs.

He wouldn’t know what to say even if he still had his tongue. 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Bill says, eminently pleased. Pulling Dipper in closer, with an arm suddenly around his waist. “Hold on tight! It ain’t a bumpy ride, but it’s a weird one.”

Dipper follows as he walks. Partly on automatic, and partly because what the hell else is he supposed to do?

About three steps in, he realizes they’re both walking on thin air, towards and over the altar. 

He jerks his head over, blinking at the source of that ‘zmm’ sound. 

Because of course summoning am interdimensional god-being would leave a remnant. He had to come from somewhere. 

Like, say, a weird red-yellow gap in space, with nonsense things flung around in a black and bizarre starscape. Dipper catches a glimpse of something with two many limbs, and of a series of screaming mouths with no bodies, and a duck and a grandfather clock, tumbling through the air. 

It’s almost like it might be a nightmare dimension. Who could have thought.

With nothing else to cling to, his free hand clamps Bill’s shoulder, tight. 

“You’re my guest for the next while, sapling.” Bill says, squeezing him tight in return as he steps in - and drags Dipper alongside him, stalking into the portal. “Glad to have you!”

[theflyingfeeling]

thank you so much @ao3userxnowimnothing for the tag 🖤

rules: list your top 5 favorites of your fics, what they're about, and why you're proud of them, then tag some fic authors to do the same!

I'm tagging @percervall @neverrepent @milirii and @rosalba-robi 🌻

(see my choices under the read-more)

1. Room for one more troubled soul

I’m terribly proud of this fic, mostly because its length and immensity. I worked for it for months and had my ups and downs (e.g. it took me aaaaaages to finish the first friggin’ chapter?!), and while I did have an outline for the full story, there were also lots of plot lines that I improvised as the story developed and ended up working out quite by accident if I’m completely honest 😂 I had previously sort of abandoned a gigantic multi-chapter fic in the ski jumping fandom so I wasn’t sure if I could pull off a work that was this extensive, which is why I’m super proud of myself for having succeeded with this one, because I’m not the most patient of people. Now that I know I can actually finish a longer multi-chapter work, I have faith in myself to do so again 😇

2. But There’s Nothing To Be Afraid Of

Despite the horrifying styling of the title, I’m still proud of my first ever BC fic that I published a year ago (in which the guys go see Måneskin at a festival, in a nutshell). I was soooooo nervous about posting it that I decided to post the first two chapters at one go because nothing much happens in the first chapter and I was desperate to show the readers that hey! hey! this is actually more than Joel being sulky! just wait!! 😅 I don’t ship Joel/Damiano anymore, but this fic still holds a special place in my heart

3. The YouTuber AU, particularly Of rock, roll and dogs

I know I’ve said this at many occasions but I’ll say it again: I loooooove writing from Joel’s point of view, because he’s equal amounts of emo and dramatic, and it’s fun to play with that combo. I’m not afraid to boast my own trumpet here and say that this AU and especially the Joel POVs are funny af, and building the whole alternate universe was so much fun too!

4. You are the sun and I am just the planets

idk man, I’m just really fond of the College/University AU and I’m a sucker for pining, and as heartbreaking as it is, I also enjoy unrequited love as a trope. The mood of the fic changes gradually the more time Olli spends with Joonas, and I kinda like that effect; at this point his whole life wasn’t as consumed by his crush for Joonas (at least not to the extent it is in the main work in this AU), but you can clearly see he’s in too deep already… Plus I love the FOB song in the title/summary 💖

5. A nameless Olli/Aleksi prompt ficlet for my Valentine’s Day Fluff series (also on AO3)

Loosely based on the movie Just Like Heaven, which I've never seen myself but after reading the synopsis I made my own adaption of it in which Olli adopts Rilla when she was put in the shelter because Aleksi is lying in a coma in the hospital. I’m strangely proud of this one because I think it’s a really touching story and I did cry a little when writing it (NOT as in “omg I’m such a great writer” but as in “OMG DOGS!! 😭”) and I must say that I was a tiiiiiiiiiny bit disappointed it didn’t get as many notes as some of the other fics in this series that in my opinion weren’t as good. Yes, the ending is ridiculous and a little unrealistic but hey, it’s magic realism! Aleksi is a half-ghost for most of if, for goodness sake!! So please, if you haven’t read it yet, grab some tissues and do so, because I’m really proud of this one and I’m also very keen on making y’all cry (ohhh just WAIT ‘til you get to read the Gran Hotel AU!)

[rowanaelinn]

Heyy, for the ask game what would you say for no.9?

Ohhh that’s a good one!

@leiawritesstories’s pirate AU is so fun to read and it’s always amazing to read it! Rowan is so,,, Gods, He is amazing in this fic.

When In Wendlyn by @heirofflowers is amazing and I will never shut up about it😭 It’s so funny, fluffy, and so refreshing to read and this healing… We love this

The Lucky One is also one I will never shut up about!! @morganofthewildfire killed me with this one, and I love the main story and the outtakes so much!

A little Braver by @tomtenadia is soooooo good! I never read a Firefighter AU before and now I’m obsessed to the point where I now have read many books with Firefighters to feel the same kind of rush😭

I have so many, and basically everything I reblog is amazing! Our fandom has so many talented writer that blesses us with so many updates!

Thank you for the ask!!

[celerrie]

Hello, sweetie!

How are you?

I just have to say I LOVEEEEEEEEE your Curse-Breaker series with Steven Strange SO MUCH! It's SOOOOOO freaking awesome!

I love how you portrayed their relationship and the magic around it! It's so special and THEIRS, you know? I've never seen anything like it.

If it's not too much to ask, I'd love to be tagged in your Strange stuff.

Thank you so much!

OHHH MY GOSH AAA T_T Firstly thank you times a million for sending in this ask! I'm super glad to hear that you liked Curse-Breaker so much!! A big goal for me with this fic was definitely capturing unique chemistry between Stephen and Reader that had a good mix of humor, sass, tenderness, and trust, so it's incredible to hear as a writer that you feel that it feels special and *theirs* to you! Thank you thank you thank youuu for coming by to tell me so; it's made my whole week!! And oh my gosh I'd be glad to tag you in any future Strange stuff!

Thank you again for taking the time to send this ask in! You've made me so happy <3

[begaydodrughailsaten]

ADDING TO THIS! Why are 90% of them young adult books? Like yeah there are definitely some adult queer books but SO MANY are YA books, nothing against people who like ya books, but personally its like trying to read a bad self insert fic every time i open one. AND WHY ARE SO MANU JUST REAL FANFIC SOMEONE CHANGED THE NAMES IN PLEASE. Yes fanfic CAN be successfully turned into a good book SOMETIMES but if i can go "this is twilight fanfic" in 2 chapters you should have changed a lot more before selling it.

Anyone please feel free to send me books with

1. Main queer characters

2. It not one of those "ohhh its a dystopian future and IM the ONLY one that can save it!!! Cus im soooooo cool" books

3. Its not just stright up porn

4. The cover isn't bright colors and cartoony like a damn kids coloring book

PLEASE because idk if im just not looking in the right places but i cant find them for the life of me I've found like 1 3 part book series that mets all those requirements and even then (book one especially) is very close to breaking rule 3

Can people please write books with queer people thats not painfully obvious that it was written either originally as fanfic/by a cishet person/to pander to queer people ghost wrote by a guy whose never met a gay person/or all of the above? Like for the love of god my fellow teenage friends write better shit then some of these real ass books

[captmickey]

Sorry this is a long one! I have a lot to sayyy

My favorite fic of yours

It used to be that one where No1 had a very feverish flare-up and No2 had to sit him back down. (I've reread that one multiple times)

But now… I'm conflicted! It's between that one, the one where cadet no1 is with Gideon and refuses help, or just straight up Brotherhood. Or just literally any of the fics involving hydra trauma (that one about the two of em in the woods is a good)

A fic I haven’t read yet from you, but I want to

Ohhh, There Are No Strings On Me. Exactly my type, I love strong horrific visuals. Haven't gotten the timeee, somebody remind me

A fic of yours that i’ve re-read

I already mentioned it above! It's got a lovely freakout scene that always gets me giddy and I love it I love it I love it

A fic I didn’t expect to like so much

Tbh? Three adventurers, and like any of the spinoff fics you've made. Back then, I wasn't into monkey island or legend of zelda and was afraid of not really getting any of the references.

But then I checked it out, and the way you characterize them is oh so like… Relatable? That I didn't even have to know the fandom to be like "alright… I love them, your honor"

Haaaaaa I don't even know where to start but like, all these answers have me grinning, especially so the 3adv one since like... I knew making it would be a massive gamble so.... ;u;

But for real, you like angst? Also it's almost Halloween soooooo