#THERE'S SOME PLOT THREADS THAT WEREN'T WRAPPED UP HERE.

[mewtonian-physics]

just finished bsd season 5 and uh. what

[ct-hardcase]

actually going the fuck wild over the fact that swres wrapped up before we ever got an explanation about how the xionos mysteriously survived the destruction of hosnia

[natlovesls2]

Sitting, Waiting, Wishing

Lando x Fem!Reader

*ੈ✩‧₊˚warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, unprotected sex, oral (female receiving), gaslighting, sexism/ internalized misogyny, swearing, no use of y/n, some plot but not much, rushed, grammar mistakes, etc. Please remember that this is fiction, and in no way represents Lando as a person

*ੈ✩‧₊˚word count: 1.7k

*ੈ✩‧₊˚summary: You love Lando but he does not feel the same, no matter how long you've waited (For the most part its just inspired Sitting, Waiting, Wishing from the In Between Dreams album, as the title of the fic says)

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You had always made it painfully clear to Lando that your feelings for him were anything but platonic. If the constant heart eyes weren't enough to prove it then the little gifts and compliments surely should have made it abundantly clear. Surely he wasn’t THAT oblivious, and he wasn’t. You had often heard him boasting to his friends about your everlasting and eager love for him. There was one such instance that you remembered quite well– he had asked you to be his date to some event, in which you had, of course, ended up alone. “Thanks for agreeing to be my date, don’t know what I’d do without you,” he had said as if it even mattered that you were there. 

You watched Lando interact with some bitch he met at– long having forgotten about your presence. Sometimes it felt as if you were a stranger who was invading his space– uninvited and unwanted. She hadn’t wronged you in any way and, yet, you hated her. You hated her stupid face and her stupidly short dress that made her look like a cheap whore. It was obvious that it had to be the reason he was so enamored with her, she looked easy and Lando loved easy girls– and she was practically begging to be fucked. She wrapped her hand around Landos arm and you wished you would walk over to them and break her fucking arm. 

He made it very clear that night that he would never love you, at least not in a romantic sense, he's made that perfectly clear. But no matter how many times he humiliates you, you will fight for his affection, always. Even if that affection comes in the form of lust and only ever is lust.

His constant disregard for your feelings led you to promise yourself that you wouldn’t find yourself in this position with Lando again. In fact, you had sworn that last time would be the final time you found yourself tangled in his bed sheets. Truthfully you had never been strong minded, always giving up on those fitness challenges and never finishing the long books you bought with the intent to feel smart and accomplished. But you were tired of being so destructive– of ruining yourself for someone who obviously didn't give a rats ass. Maybe that's why you were in his apartment, to end it all– at least that's what you were telling yourself. It was all rather pathetic: the look you gave him as he went on about whatever he‘d been going through before you had gotten there. 

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he whispered, bringing his hands to rest on either side of your hips, occasionally rubbing circles with his thumbs. You knew what he’d be doing if you weren’t there, fucking whatever bimbo threw herself at him. He pulled you closer, resting his head in the crook of your neck, “You’re awfully quiet– what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he asked, pressing gentle kisses to your neck. You could feel yourself begin to give into his intentions– you never were good at saying no to him. After all, your plan to avoid him and kick him out of your life altogether had lasted nearly two weeks… more like five days, but stretching the truth has never hurt anyone.

“Nothing,” you sigh, threading your fingers through his hair, slowly melting into his touch. You could resist the feeling his voice and touch brought upon you. You suppose that's why you’re here again, clothes slightly askew and hair a messy tangle. His hands eagerly explore the expanse of your body, lips impatiently marking down your neck. “I've missed this so much,” he raggedly whispers against your shoulder, rolling his hips against your own. His hands continue to wander, coming to rest at your clothed breasts, gently squeezing them. 

You pull his head up, body leaning into his in a heated kiss– feeling the vibration of his moans against your lips. This wasn’t something you were particularly proud of, but it kept him close to you. It allowed him to show an ounce of affection towards you, even if that affection was pure and unfiltered lust. “Need you,” you whispered in between rushed kisses, trailing kisses down the side of his jaw.  

“I know” he grunted, movements slowing as he brought his hands up your thighs and under your skirt, fingers ghosting over your underwear. Gently applying pressure to your clothed clit, stopping only to move your panties to the side, “God, baby, you’re already so wet.” He teasingly ran his finger up your slit and back down, only inserting the tip of his finger. Lando smirked down at you when you greedily attempted to shift your hips in hopes of getting some sort of relief. He kissed the expanse of your thighs, pulling your underwear down your legs and away. A few more kisses were placed on your thighs before he turned his attention to your pussy, teasingly licking and kissing the area. 

“Please,” you let out a whine as he slowly inserted a finger into your needy and begging pussy. He chuckled at the strangled moan that left your mouth, pressing kisses down your body, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. He continued to work his finger in and out of your pussy, adding another after a while, getting you ready for what was to come.

“Take this off,” he mumbled against your cunt, impatiently pulling the hem of your shirt up exposing your stomach, urging you to pull it off the rest of the way. You pulled the shirt off, tossing it aside before doing the same with your bra.

Your thighs involuntarily close around his head as he curls his fingers, thrusting them a few more times before removing them. He smirked at you, watching as your chest rapidly rose and fell, pushing his face further between your thighs– lapping up your arousal. The slurping like noise coming from between your thighs, giving you a wave of embarrassment as you reached down to tug at his curls. He fucked his tongue in and out, occasionally pulling fully out to run it up to your clit– swirling the nub around. His fingers found their way inside you again as he noticed your brows furrow together, a sign you were getting closer to coming. He increased his speed as your back arched, whines becoming loud moans as you clench around his fingers. 

“I’ll never get tired of seeing that,” he whispers, kissing up your body, wrapping his mouth around your left nipple, cupping and groping your other boob. 

“Mm” you whine, reaching a hand down to massage at his bulge. You felt him smirk against your breast, letting it go with an audible pop.

“So impatient, so desperate for a good fucking, huh?”

You nod rapidly, pushing at his pants, watching as he unbuttons his pants and kicks them off along with his underwear. He smirks as you open your legs wider, wincing slightly as he strokes his almost painfully hard dick, lining it up to your entrance. Perhaps you should have cared a little more as he pushed in with a condom, but in the moment it felt good to be wanted.

 A shuddered breath left you as he began to thrust, strong and steady, the faint sound of skin slapping against skin sounding in the room. “Feels so fucking good,” shakily said, wrapping your legs around Landos waist. Truly it felt as if your whole body had been lit on fire, you were burning with desire. 

“I know it does, baby– shit,” he grunted, slamming his hips against your own at a fast pace, snaking his hand down to rub tight circles against your clit. You clenched around him, quickly reaching your second orgasm. He sped up, holding your hips down, the headboard slamming against the wall. With a deep groan Lando came, spilling inside of you, he pulled out laying down beside you. 

“You don’t need me to drive you home do you?” he asked tiredly, voice a little shaky. 

“No, I drove here.” You stood up collecting your clothes, slipping them on one article at a time. The embarrassment began to seep in, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You sighed, turning to face Lando who now sat at the edge of his bed, “I can’t do this anymore, Lando.”

“Do what?”

“God, you know what I mean!” you said exasperatedly, running a hand through your sweaty and unruly hair.  

“I don’t, so why don't you enlighten me?” he said back, his tone shifting to something more harsh instead of the innocent tone he had been using.

“Us– this whole back and forth thing. I can’t– I just… I love you and you don’t love me. And I can’t continue to be the person you only use when you need them.”

“What?” he rose from his spot, glaring at you.

“God, don’t act like you haven’t noticed– I’ve made it pretty fucking obvious, Lando,” you raised your voice, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

“You haven't–” he started. 

“Yeah, because sleeping with you isn't obvious enough. Just cut the bullshit.”

“I don’t know what you expect of me, I thought you were okay with being friends– we’ve had this conversation before, you said it was fine,” he took a step closer to you, eyes glaring into your own. He was challenging you, like he always did, because he knew you always gave in. Always accepted whichever shitty excuse he gave. Always accepted the whole “I’m not ready for a relationship” spiel. 

“Friends don’t fuck eachother, Lando.”

“Well we do, and if you can’t accept that we’ll never be more than friends then you can take your slutty ass out of here.” This was your breaking point. It hadnt been his abandonment at parties, or the way he bragged about how you let him fuck you to his friends, or the sheer lack of care for your emotional wellbeing. No, it was the way he had spat that word at you– slut. That's all you had been throughout the majority of your friendship. A hole that had been willing to be filled.

You started at him, mouth agape with disbelief, “You’re a fucking asshole. Oh my god, how did I not notice,” you let out a humorless laugh, shoving him out of the way. And as you walked out of his home, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders. You had a lot to learn and unlearn.

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*ੈ✩‧₊˚note: this was my first time writing smut, so I apologize if it sucks or makes no sense. feedback is appreciated, but please be nice because I scare easily lol

[ckret2]

Chapter 46 of human Bill Cipher frantically wishing he was still locked in the Mystery Shack and not getting his wish:

The Eclipse: Part 4

Gravity has fully disappeared from Gravity Falls and Bill finally learns why the Axolotl traveled all the way to Earth to see him. And meanwhile, Ford's in mortal peril.

[SUPER IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: if you're reading this, it means that I've edited chapters 6&7 to make them compatible with The Book Of Bill but I have not edited this chapter yet.

Before TBOB came out, in chapter 7 I wrote that the Ax's deal with Bill was "I'll give you a different form (a human body) in a different time (dropping you a thousand years in the future) so you don't have to see your old enemies" and then Bill stole a time tape to come right back to the 21st century. I've now edited ch 6&7 to make the Ax's deal with Bill "I'll drop you off in Theraprism" and then Bill escaped via reincarnation.

However, this chapter refers to the OLD version of ch 7. That's because there are not physically enough hours in my life for me to do all the editing I want to do as fast as I want to do it.

Things Bill & the Axolotl say in this chapter contradict TBOB and contradict what the new ch 6&7 say. The conversation they're having DOES NOT accurately reflect the fic's current plot. Don't freak out. I'll fix it when I can. - (note added Sept 7, 2024; will be removed when it's no longer necessary.)]

####

There were only two ways to remove a pair of magic friendship bracelets. Either both wearers had to consent to removing the bracelets; or one of the parties had to die. The bracelets weren't active if they were only being worn by one person, and a corpse wasn't a person.

The moment Dipper's soul left his body, the thread connecting the bracelets turned visible again.

Bill immediately yanked off his bracelet. He considered just letting it go, reconsidered considering that Dipper's ghost would probably tattle to Mabel, and carefully, slowly reeled the thread in. Without the magic active, it was just normal embroidery floss. The Axolotl's gravitational pull didn't make Dipper's body heavy enough to break the line, but if Bill jerked it just a little too hard, it would snap.

Bill heaved a sigh when the body was close enough he could grasp its wrist. He grabbed Dipper's head and snarled in his dead face, "This is why I told you to get in the cave." He wrapped the bracelet around and around the tree trunk and Dipper's forearm, muttering to himself, "But does anybody listen to the all-knowing immortal dream demon who's seventy times older than their entire universe? No! No, what could it possibly know! Surely we'll get better ideas from the brain-damaged hick who married a raccoon—"

An immense voice said, "Hello."

Bill froze. He slowly turned away from the beast above Gravity Falls.

The voice said serenely, "Look at me, you 8-karat coward."

He slowly turned toward the beast above Gravity Falls. He swallowed hard, steeled himself, and dragged his gaze up until he met the Axolotl's eye and he was gently tugged into the time and space between time and space. "Oh, heyyy," he squeaked. He forced a pained smile. "Didn't see you there! Haha, hi! Wow! Imagine running into you in this dimension on this planet, crazy."

"Yes, crazy," the Axolotl agreed.

"This isn't a regular part of your commute! I guess you've got some time off," Bill said. "Work must be going well!"

"Pretty well. I scheduled an extended lunch break," the Axolotl said amiably. "How's being human going?"

Bill shot the Axolotl a dirty look.

The Axolotl continued to give him a perpetual smile. "Happy New Year, by the way."

"I'll kill you."

"No you won't."

"Okay look, let's just cut to the chase," Bill said. "Go on. Tell me my punishment."

"Punishment?"

"For! Coming back here instead of staying when you dumped me in 3012. I skipped time while on parole. That's obviously why you're here." He looked down, shielding his face with a hand and squeezing his eyes shut. "So stop wasting my time and tell me how much trouble I'm in. I'm a busy guy, I don't wanna drag this out."

"Well," the Axolotl said, "it appears to me that you're locked in your enemies' home, you can't use doors, and you need to be handcuffed to a child to go outside. Is that enough 'trouble' for you?"

Bill opened one eye. "Wait, so." He looked up skeptically. "You're saying I won't get re-executed for breaking the rules. Or—or get stuck in a worse body."

"No," the Axolotl said. "You'll answer to no jailer's voice; what you do now is your own choice. I moved you by a thousand years to free you from your killers' fears. If you decide then to return, it's your own second chance you burn."

"Ohhh. See, I assumed this entire situation was a... prison... thing. Considering the..." He gestured vaguely at his body. "The flesh prison." 

"It's a body. Not a prison. You aren't being imprisoned."

"'Not a prison' my base, if it's not a prison then why can't—" He caught himself before he asked a question, and took a deep breath. "So, there are no rules against coming right back to where I left off."

"Though I think your plan is clunky—not my circus, not my monkey."

"Oh. Okay, great." Bill planted his hands on his hips, straightening up properly for the first time since the Axolotl's arrival. "Huh. How 'bout that. Spent the last two days worrying for nothing!"

"You? Worried?"

"Of course not, I wasn't worried for a second," Bill said. "So if you're not here to punish me—that doesn't explain why you are here."

"Are you asking?"

"You know I'm not."

The Axolotl stared at Bill, patiently awaiting a question. Bill stared at the Axolotl, patiently not asking one.

The Axolotl caved first. "I wanted to make sure you hadn't burned down the dimension yet."

Bill pointed sharply at the Axolotl. "Hey! Hey!"

The Axolotl gave him a look like a toothless gumball learning how to smile.

"Not funny! Seriously, now!"

"I came because you called."

"Wh— When did—?" Bill cut himself off. He thought back to the day he'd spent locked in the bathroom. He recalled the desperate plea for salvation he'd painted on the ceiling. He buried his face in his hand. "That... that was a joke. False alarm."

"I gathered," the Axolotl said.

Bill peeked between his fingers. "But, I did call for rescue. Therefore. You're here to rescue me."

"No."

"Why n—! You said I'm not supposed to be in a prison! You've seen what these humans have done to me!"

"You aren't a prisoner," the Axolotl said. "You're a kidnapping victim. That's outside my jurisdiction."

Infuriating—but it told Bill something important: in the Axolotl's eyes, Bill's captivity wasn't just. And Bill didn't consider the Axolotl any kind of god—he didn't consider anyone any kind of god—but the Ax had a lot of pull in the multiverse when it came to defining the universal concept of justice. That was promising. 

"But I do have a keen interest in your case. I wanted to check in on your progress."

Bill gave the Axolotl a questioning look. "'Progress.'"

The Axolotl said nothing. Bill waited. The Axolotl simply continued to smile. "You haven't asked a question yet. Usually you can't wait to get rid of me."

"Under the circumstances," he gestured again at his body, "I didn't think I could afford to waste it."

"I see. However, I do have a meeting I need to get to."

What was the most important thing he could ask. What did he need to know the most. "So... if I learn my lesson or complete my sentence or—whatever I'm supposed to do... will you turn me back into a triangle?"

"I can't and won't do anything else. I've completed my obligation to you," the Axolotl said. "Whatever happens to you from now on is up to you."

That could mean anything from "you're stuck as a human forever and will die in less than a century" to "there's a secret spell on you and when you meet its conditions you'll automatically turn back into a triangle" to "you're already a triangle, you just need to believe in yourself." All Bill knew was that he wasn't getting any help from the Ax.

"It's been a pleasure as always," the Axolotl said. The world slowly began to move again as he gently returned Bill to the dimension he'd come from.

"Wait!" Bill called. He needed to know—was he still a triangle, somewhere on the inside, buried beneath all this flesh and bone? Or had the Axolotl's transformation rotted him to his core—was he now nothing but a human through and through? If he wasn't being punished, why had his suffocating soul been smothered under a blanket of meat? If he wasn't being punished, why had his own corpse stared him in the eye as if it didn't recognize him? "Just one more question before you go!"

"If you have the time. Up to you."

If he had the time? Bill's eyes darted around. Why wouldn't he have the time, what was he missing—?

His gaze locked on Ford. Floating twenty, thirty feet out from the cliff's edge. Oh.

Bill let the Axolotl's gravity drag him to the edge of the cliff before digging a hand into the ground, holding himself in place. Bill was safe; Dipper's body was safe, and his soul could float home once the Axolotl was gone. But when the Axolotl was gone, gravity would immediately come back—0 to 100, just like that—and Ford was dead.

And the Axolotl was already turning away. The millions of axolotls in the water below followed, moving through and out of the lake as though the lakebed didn't exist, migrating in the Axolotl's wake.

Ford was unsuccessfully trying to swim through the air back to land. Several useless feet of cable from his infinity belt floating around him from trying to fling it at the cliff. The best he could do was stretch an arm toward land.

He met Bill's eyes. The only other time Bill had seen Ford this terrified was when he'd threatened to torture the kids.

Bill looked at Ford, looked at the Axolotl—nearly too far to shout to—and looked down. By now, the future death he'd witnessed earlier was so close that Bill could see more than the blood to be left on the rocks. He could see the body—gray hair, tan overcoat, broken. It was just a few moments away.

Stanford Pines was about to die. Bill Cipher was innocent. Dipper was his witness; Dipper, honest goody hero type, could verify that Bill not only repeatedly told them both to stay away from the thing in the sky, but also warned them to anchor themselves right before totality. Everyone at the shack knew he'd protested, knew he'd warned them, knew he'd begged to stay home. There was no possible way Bill could get blamed for this.

And once Ford was dead, none of the idiots in this town would ever find a way to destroy Bill.

Up to you.

Bill didn't stop to think.

He kicked off the edge of the cliff.

He could see, hovering in the air like a golden arc amidst a dozen blurry failures, the path he needed to jump to reach Ford. The Axolotl's tail was already soaring over the town, his sky blue fins rippling like vast, slow sails. If Bill reached Ford before the Axolotl's influence was completely gone, he could fly them over the lake and they might both survive. 

They collided. Bill had to fling an arm over Ford's shoulder before he managed to get a grip on his lapel; Ford seized Bill's hoodie in both hands. Ford demanded, "What are you—?" He fell silent as their trajectory took a sudden sharp turn from south to east.

"The lake!"

Ford nodded. Why could come if they both survived. He could already feel weight grabbing onto his limbs. He spared a split-second glance down, but with half the lake floating in the air he couldn't tell if they'd cleared its banks yet. "Have you ever learned to swim?"

"You have to learn?!"

Ford prayed, if Bill drowned, that he was a mortal, and that he wasn't the kind of drowner who dragged other people down with him. "Cross your ankles as tightly as you can, cross your arms over your chest, land feet first in the water—better to break your legs than your neck—do not tilt your head, eyes on the horizon—" And that was as much emergency survival advice as he could give before gravity returned in full force.

This wasn't the first time Ford had plummeted into a deep liquid from an irresponsible height over the past thirty years. The hit was softer than he expected—the turbulent lake hadn't settled back down into its normal water pressure—but he also sank far deeper than he expected. Streams of bubbles raced past his vision; maybe it was just the power of suggestion, but he could have sworn they looked like transparent axolotls.

As soon as he had his wits about him, he threw off his coat, tugged off his boots, and kicked his way toward the surface.

Bill didn't.

This actually wasn't so bad, he thought, with a calmness that definitely came from being such a rational level-headed fellow and not from being in shock. Sure, all the air had been forced out of his lungs and his body was screaming in airless panic, but he wasn't his body, was he? This felt just like floating. He would miss floating again.

What was he supposed to do now.

He'd seen humans swim. He tried kicking his legs. He felt stupid. But, he decided—again, with a calmness that definitely was not from shock—that looking kinda stupid was probably preferable to drowning. Although he was curious what drowning felt like. Had he ever drowned a puppet before? He couldn't remember. Didn't seem bad so far.

He surfaced.

Ford was already on shore, on hands and knees, desperately coughing out water, his lungs burning. He collapsed in the sand. It took a couple minutes for him to reach the point where he was breathing more than he was coughing, and another minute of heavy breathing before he had the energy to look at the lake again. Bill was floating on his back about fifty feet away, very still.

Ford croaked, "Bill," coughed again, and tried a little louder. "Bill?"

Without otherwise moving, Bill raised one arm and gave him a thumbs-up.

Ford dug into what energy reserves he still had, shuffled back into the water, and swam over to Bill. "Are you all right?"

Bill gave him a dazed look, opened his mouth, and exhaled a cup of water. Then he started coughing. 

Ford grimaced. "Let's... get to shore." He took Bill's arm to tug him toward dry land.

Bill flailed upright and shoved him off. "Don't—" Hack. "M'fine. I l—" Cough. "I like floating." He lay on his back, shut his eyes, and said shakily, "Don't touch me."

Ford treaded water for a moment, considering that. Bill looked like he'd got the hang of floating enough that he wasn't an immediate drown risk, so Ford said, "I'll... be on land."

"'Kay."

Ford swam to shore and sat cross-legged in the wet sand to wait, staring down at his hands. The Handwitch's ring was a bright indigo blue again, no traces of darkness within the cabochon, as though the lake water had washed it clean.

Should he go do something useful? There weren't many places Bill could go, except to shore; it wasn't like he was at risk of escaping. But then if Bill did make it to land while Ford was distracted, he had a chance to make a run for it without the bracelet—

Ford stood up. "Bill! Where's Dipper?!"

Bill raised one arm and pointed up.

Ford looked at Gravity Peak. A small speck high above, Dipper was looking down over the cliff's edge. Ford waved to him. Dipper waved back. Well. That was inconvenient. Maybe Ford could restrain Bill with the infinity belt's cable in the meantime. (He reeled the cable in while he was thinking about it. He was fortunate it hadn't tangled on anything while he was underwater.)

"We have to rendezvous with Dipper. Get over here."

"Just leave me."

"Not an option."

Bill let out a pitiable whine, but, after a moment, managed to figure out a way to slowly paddle-kick his way toward land.

When his heels hit sand, he rolled over, crawled onto land, and lay down. "Gravity," he groaned. "I hate gravity."

"I'm not too fond of it myself right now." Ford's limbs felt like lead. Some combination of spending a day and a half in steadily reduced gravity, the exhaustion following a near death experience, and waterlogged clothes. "Where are the enchanted bracelets?"

Bill lifted one hand from the elbow and pointed toward the cliff again.

That'd be just Ford's luck. All the same, he said, "Really?" Bill would hide them if they were on him.

"Yes, really. Whaddaya want, a strip search?" He gestured vaguely toward his body without lifting his head. "Go ahead. 'M not moving to help." His arm flopped back down.

Ford decided that was a bluff he did not want to call. "Fine. We'll put them back on when we rendezvous with Dipper." If Bill tried to escape, Ford wasn't sure he was in any condition to chase; but then Bill didn't seem to be in any condition to run, either.

"Surprised you wanna wear matching bracelets with me. If I'd known, I woulda made you a friendship bracelet." Under his breath, Bill muttered at the sand, "But m'sure it'd've been a waste of thread."

Ford decided it was more prudent to hold his tongue. "Can you walk?"

"If I have to." For as difficult as Bill made getting to his feet look, one would think he was being subjected to the gravity of Jupiter. Ford offered his hand; Bill smacked it aside.

"Well. My raft is still in the cave behind Trembley Falls, so we'll have to borrow a boat." Ford pointed toward Tate & Backle's Bait & Tackle at the far end of the lake. "Think you can make it that far?"

Bill—barefoot, soggy, and slumped like he had the whole weight of the world on his shoulders—gave Ford the most pathetic look he'd ever seen Bill wear. Ford empathized completely. But Bill only sighed and said, "Let's get going."

####

Tate lowered his magazine to give Ford a critical look. "Dr. Pines," he said. "You get caught out on the lake when the gravity came back?"

"Something like that."

He shook his head. "Shoulda listened to the news."

"The news?"

"Dad's been making public warnings since yesterday. 'Stay anchored and keep your head down.' Reckon you must've missed it."

"We've... been camping." He'd have to ask Fiddleford about that later. "Listen—do you have a boat we could borrow? It's an emergency. We were separated from Dipper and we have to get across the lake."

Tate raised his hat just enough to give Ford a look that told him exactly what he thought of his merit as a guardian—Ford figured he deserved that—but then stood with a sigh. "All right, I'll see what we've got."

He paused, then gestured behind Ford with his chin. "Who's the lady?"

Ford turned. The shop's door was propped open and Bill was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed tight, staring blankly out across the lake. "Er—Goldie. She's... staying in the shack a few weeks."

"Hm." Tate raised his voice. "Ma'am?"

Bill didn't budge.

"Ma'am—Miss Goldie?"

That time he turned to give Tate a faraway look. "Me?"

"Yes, uh—you're soaked to the bone. Would you like to borrow some dry clothes?"

"Oh." Bill considered the question for a little longer than necessary. "If you want."

Ford explained, "She inhaled a lot of water."

Tate nodded. "Think we've got some out-of-season stock in the back, there might be something big enough for..." He caught himself before insinuating something about a lady's weight, and mumbled, "Well, it'll do." He headed to a door behind the counter, paused, looked Ford over, and reluctantly said, "I s'pose you can get something too."

####

Tate had a motorboat in good working order, so he let them borrow it, with a stern request to have it back by the end of the day. And so they set out—Ford in waders that went up to his chest, a bandana he really hoped was keeping his embarrassing neck tattoo hidden, and a t-shirt that said "The worst day of fishing is better than the best day of court-ordered anger management classes"; and Bill in a makeshift skirt Tate had apologetically improvised out of a beach towel, a sweater depicting a pine tree constructed out of fish that said "MERRY FISHMAS", and a pair of novelty slippers shaped like rainbow trout.

"I'm never giving these shoes back," Bill informed Ford as they crossed the lake. "I don't care whether we buy them or steal them. They're hilarious." It was the nearest thing to personality Bill had demonstrated since landing in the lake.

Ford supposed he was in no position to tell Bill he couldn't keep them, considering that Bill had... well.

Well.

Ford should say something about that. He didn't know what. He didn't know where to start. (Bill's question came back to him: if Ford didn't believe anything Bill said, why did he keep trying to pry information out of him?)

(Because, he realized—beneath thirty years of every nerve in his body screaming "DON'T TRUST HIM"—part of him was still hoping Bill would say something he could believe.)

Ford cleared his throat. "It's... impressive that you didn't panic while you were underwater," he said awkwardly. "That must have taken remarkable self control."

"Oh. Eh." Bill spread his hands vaguely. "I wasn't really paying attention to what was happening. I was thinking about other stuff."

Ford blinked. "While you were drowning?"

"It wasn't a very severe drowning."

Ford huffed.

This was probably a conversation he should have later—Bill's brain only appeared to be half on—but, if they had it later, Ford wasn't sure he'd get anything but yet another polished lie. 

And so he steeled his nerves and asked, "Why did you save me."

Bill didn't answer. He stared silently at his rainbow trout slippers.

"Bill—?"

"Hold on," he said. "I don't know, just—give me a minute to make something up."

It was the first time in a month and a half—the first time in years—that Ford was absolutely certain Bill had just told him the truth.

And not just about his intentions to lie to Ford—but about not knowing why he'd saved him.

It meant there was no secret master plan, no manipulative ulterior motives, no cunning illusions. It meant Bill had endangered himself just to save Ford.

There was a universe where Ford then said, "I didn't think you meant it all those times you said you wanted to be my friend again," and where Bill lied—both to Ford and to himself—"I didn't think I meant it either." It wasn't this universe, because neither one of them wanted those words out in the world. Yet they still hovered around them, unspoken.

It didn't make Ford trust Bill. It didn't make Ford like Bill. Bill was still everything he'd ever been—liar, conman, tyrant, torturer—and Ford still hated him for all of it.

But. It meant that for the first time in a month in a half, a muscle between Ford's shoulder blades that had been knotted tight with fear could finally loosen and relax.

Ford was safe.

####

(I first had the idea for this chapter nearly a year ago and I've been dying waiting to post it. I hope you enjoyed, and I can't wait to hear what y'all think! And to those of you in the path of totality, happy solar eclipse this Monday! I totally planned it this way. I did not.)

[blackbat05]

A Christmas Miracle

Jason Todd x Reader

Plot: After being dealt with a bad hand, you wonder if you could finish the year peacefully. Or would there be a Christmas Miracle?

Genre: PG-13 (Mentions of death), comfort fic

A/N: Decided to participate in @the-slumberparty EOY event and get back into writing here! This piece does act as an outlet for me and this is me praying for a better year. Anyways, hope you enjoyed my piece after a long while!❤️

Nice Prompts in Bold☺️

***

If it was any other day, I probably would have stayed far away from the bar and the music that would make any normal human being deaf with all that blasting.

But not today.

Because today was a shitty day.

No. Scratch that. This was a shitty year. I could even go out on a whim and say that it could give 2020 a run for their money. I was on my second bottle of soju, not giving a damn at the concerned look the bartender was giving me. Some creep tried to get close but I just weren't having it - I swore I saw a stain on his pants as he scurried away from my murderous glare.

"Tough day?"

I rolled your eyes, preparing to give the unsuspecting stranger a piece of my mind. "Jason?"

Jason Todd, my childhood friend and partner-in-crime takes a seat across me. He signals to the bartender over the Christmas music for another tiny glass and soju. "It's been a while."

"You're not going to stop me?"

"And miss out on a drink? No way." Jason scoffs. "Now, why are you drinking like there's no tomorrow?"

I want to tell him. How I left my perfectly stable job because I was being ostracized. How my family supported me but insinuated that I should have done more - be more approachable, more likable, more friendly. How a few days after my graduation, my grandmother who was the only living grandparent to watch me grow up since I was a toddler passed away suddenly.

How I was so ridden with guilt that I couldn't do anything more.

But as I opened my mouth, I hear a small voice in my head.

You'll just be burdening others, like how you always do.

"I'm fine." I dismissed Jason's worries away. Maybe I could have done a better job about it as he does not look the least convinced. I cut him off before he can ask anything else.

"You're here to drink with me. So drink." I uncap the new bottle, pouring him a glass.

I can feel Jason's gaze bearing into my forehead.

***

The next thing I feel is the soft fabric of my sofa. Jason lays me down gently before heading to the kitchen to get a glass of water. I hear the sound of my air fryer being switched on.

"I made you some fries. Oily food always helped with hangovers back when we were in college." He chuckles, passing me the glass. I drink the water in one go, gasping for air once I was finished. The smell of fried food and being hydrated helped me to become sober again.

Jason's shuffling around the kitchen, getting the necessary utensils. But I know he's giving me space. That's what I always loved about him. He never pushed unless you decided to tell him yourself. Even when I had a big fight with my parents, he kept silent, providing a much needed listening ear.

"Hey, Jay?"

"Mm?"

"I left my job." I know this wasn't the best way to start a conversation but it had to be out in the open sooner than later. "Gran died." My lips wobble and my vision starts to become blurry simply just uttering those few words.

"I feel like crap."

Jason sits beside you and his sea green eyes provide a source of comfort in the mess that I'm drowning in.

"And you can feel sad about it."

I burst into tears. The thread that I've conjured in mid air to sew my heart back together snaps and I can't hold back. My sobs are raw and primal till the point that I wished that the soju wiped me out unconscious instead.

The only difference from all the other times I wallowed in my grief and self-pity was the man in front of me who has his arms tightly wrapped around me, gently rubbing my back.

"It'll be okay. I'm here." He repeats softly.

And what a difference it was.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be stupid."

"No." Jason carefully pries me away and looks me in the eye. "I'm sorry I wasn't there. If I had known, I wouldn't have gone with Dick on that stupid mission."

I frown. The mission that he was referring to was a Black Ops mission, infiltrating what Dick and him suspected to be a child trafficking ring ran by the Court of Owls. I knew how much this mission meant to Jason on a personal level.

"Don't say that. As much as it pains me to say, but no one knew that Gran was going to go so suddenly."

"You don't get it," Jason says with a certain hardness that takes you aback. "She was family to me too. I had so many things I wanted to tell her." He sighs, hands clasped tightly.

"Like how I wanna be more than friends with you."

"What? I don't-"

Jason smiles sadly. "When you left your job, Gran was sad to see that you lost your spark. Back then, I did ask her for advice and she told me that either way, I should have told you how I felt. She said that you would have said yes. But I felt that I would have been a jerk to lay that on you while you were struggling." Jason sighs. "I guess Gran could see it better than the both of us."

Even in the afterlife, Gran was still looking out for me.

"She would have smacked you upside on the head if she was here."

Jason lets out a bark of laughter and you join him with your tear stained face. "She definitely would."

"So, does your feelings still stand?"

It's Jason's turn to blink in confusion before breaking out into a big smile. "That is if you'll have me."

I lean in to kiss him. "Of course you big goof. Now that you told me all of this, you're never going to get rid of me." I tackle him to the sofa and we end up in a giggling mess.

Jason reaches up to give a kiss of his own and deepens it till I'm left breathless and spinning with ecstasy. I snuggle into Jason, his warm and comforting presence enough to make me forget about my woes.

"That's good. Because I plan to be with you in both good and bad days."

[valeriefauxnom]

As we all know, there were some discarded or hastily-resolved plotlines the team generally tried to wrap up. The Northern drama with Not!Russia and all that, for instance, was 'resolved' in Valyx's story, the last New Year's event tried to get that resolved, etc. But not every running thread was resolved: the Ex Machina line, the Syndicate line, and more.

But in the main story, they also weren't fully able to resolve all the plotlines they were teasing or setting up/leaving open. Leonidas, as I've talked about, likely could've became another source of conflict eventually since some of his goals are still disagreeable, and his relations with Ilia and Mordecai is unexplored, for one of the family in the running for the 'most likely to be executed for blasphemy by the Ilian church' award.

One example of which is Origa. Yes, she had a whole major part in the Apostles' events, and later tried to claw her way to main story relevancy in the final hours, but she herself was initially hinting to another particular aim that never really was explored.

Origa takes particular interest in Euden and to a lesser degree Zethia. She's interested enough that she's willing to risk outright war with some of the biggest powerhouses of South Alberia even in the attempt to get to Euden, at least. New Alberia, of course, as nations don't take very kindly to imprisoning their heads of state. Leonidas as head of both New Alberia and 'Alberia' probably wouldn't take very kindly to it either regardless of any degree of personal fondness and would want to send a message. Heck, even Emile might not appreciate the notion that Grams Curia thinks it can act against his family, or even in a 'only I can do that!' way.

Granted, this is mixed in with a hearty dose of patriotism backed with some military might and knowledge that South Grastea's chaotic state is the best chance she has at getting ahold of Euden, waltzing right into Grams with relatively little protection.

...But it's still a very bold move, so much so that even puppet King Basel is predicted to kick up a fuss with what power he has left rather than being focused on keeping the puppeteers behind his strings happy with him.

And he does! The royal guard does intervene against the Templars to buy an out for the gang.

Origa and the Templars she commands, though, are desperate enough to not even try and dress up their intentions by the end. She's desperate, not even attempting to try and keep her and Graht's involvement in this on the down low just to disguise their involvement if anyone of the gang did escape. Chips are all in.

Why, though? What could possibly be so compelling to risk all this, to act so boldly? She's even ignoring Chelle, who would be a very attractive target even if she only knows a fraction of the degree Chelle's spy network works in.

Here's where we start running into the whole 'never resolved or explored' hindrance, but she does comment these things, before and after Euden arrives/escapes:

She overall seems most interested in his pacts? And, of course, feeling like she's won. This is where I get highly speculative.

Officially, the team tried to handwave this plot in the span of like two lines:

I, however, don't buy it as the complete truth.

I think Origa is a bit too practical and cold for this to solely be a passion project of 'striking back' at the 'fortunate', though. If they truly were intending that route, I'd have more expected to see a descent from her into Agito or something since that's a common modus operandi there. It might be a component of it, no doubt, but not the only one.

I think she was also interested in Euden's (and possibly Zethia's, on a longer run) powers, especially if she could find a way to acquire them herself. If we combine it with the other running thread of her and Satan, it stands to reason she might have been interested in gaining power to be on a more equal footing when dealing with a demon overlord.

Heck, for all I know, she could've just been interested in dragonblood itself to those aims, ready to go all mad-science-like, since the royal fam's blood seems like it might be a hot commodity as a ritual reagent/power source. As seen in the whole Ace Attorney: Jupiter edition, the resident baddies of that town were jumping through hoops trying to get Euden to 'donate' some, and outright resorted to dropping down from the ceiling and nicking him that way once all pretense failed.

(Will I ever not find a way to include this event just for it being a prime example of Dragalia's particular brand of crack? Never.)

That aside, it also saw use in Delphi's story:

...and as a magic sealing agent to keep some of their particular skeletons regarding draconic matters in the closet.

All I'm saying is, there seems to be quite a few uses beyond just, 'possibly enables you to form a pact and shapeshift' (since dragonblood isn't quite as nifty or guaranteed a power as it seems and is its own danger, as I've gone over here and here) Uses that Origa might have been interested in, especially now that Euden might be hyped up on Morsayati power in the rumor mill. Maybe trying to forcibly get a few pointers on how to contain a demon overlord or two.

So, uh, yeah, that's a lot to say that I'm not completely convinced Origia was just having a jealous year or life and not craving some sweet sweet dragonblood to go commit more sins against nature and life and all that fun stuff! Whatever she wanted Euden for, it seemed to be very very important, enough to threaten almost-certain war for him. To that, while I can't answer conclusively, I think it lay in dragonblood and possibly his ties to Morsayati, whatever they were (since the Northern Clergy seems at least fairly cognizant of the circumstances of Euden's creation!).

Whatever the case, I do wish they were able to follow whatever original track they were originally planning with Origa, since I'm not sure I particularly care for the route the Northern Church and her went on as they tried to wrap things up with a bow.

[motheatenscarf]

Melee dps Endwalker role quest done!

.. meh. These are doing their job of wrapping up loose plot threads on locations we won't be seeing as anything more than set dressing in MSQ for a long time. That's fine, it's a natural progression of the story.

Some are, naturally, gonna pay off better than others. The effort they put in with the planting is gonna determine the value of this payoff now.

Heavensward cared so much and bought so hard into its own premise, so I care about the mage DPS role quest a lot.

The Doma arc of Stormblood was mangled and uninterested in its characters and so I am mostly still angry about how there was potential here that was just. Wasted.

And ARR was kinda rushed and they didn't spend the time building up faction leaders who weren't Nanamo and Raubhan. And like, if you can only pick one, thems the ones, but it means Merlwyb isn't particularly fascinating. And she doesn't need to be, not every character needs to be dynamic or deep, she facilitates the story well enough as is.

So, it feels a bit silly to try and shoehorn an emotional arc for her in the last 5 minutes before we never have reason to see her again lol. She had her moment coming to terms and making peace with the kobolds in Shadowbringers, all she needs here is to repeat that with the Sahagan and that would have been enough. Trying to make this a farewell to the Company of Heroes, whose only memorable trait thus far has been how tedious they are, and then tying them in by adding some convoluted half-baked trauma about her tempered father is... clearly forced. Like, no... no, I know her, this doesn't matter to Merlwyb, this was just filler.

And as filler, I'm givin it a solid C.

It gets the job done and if you are invested because you started in Limsa or you've just decided Merlwyb is your giant pirate queen waifu, I can see someone enjoying this. Personally, I have no strong feelings either way.

[ilikereadingactually]

The Warden

The Warden by Daniel M. Ford

i have mixed feelings about this one. i liked it enough to want to review it, i have some positives, but also some of the elements weren't quite for me. i think there's definitely an audience for it who will really like it though, and that feels worth writing about.

so! this has a lot of fun stuff going for it. there's an interesting variety of magic, and we get to see it used in different ways. there's a tantalizing amount of worldbuilding, establishing some of the rules of magic and of law, and a bit of history. that felt really delicately done to me, for the most part, especially the history! just enough to be interesting and keep me reading, not so much that i couldn't follow or remember it. we've also got a queer protagonist, which i always love, and a thread of storyline about her romantic interests, which is not generally my thing but was fun here. and i really liked the community aspect: the protagonist is assigned as a Warden, a kind of magical protector/civil servant, to a remote town and has to build relationships with the people there.

all of that felt like a great base to me, and i liked a lot of the characters; the townspeople, the friendly loner on the outskirts, the cute kid, the traveling adventurers, a great combo of personalities. but i just never really felt that much for the protagonist! we're in her POV, i wanted to like her. i think she made some good choices, she's capable and powerful, she's a rich city kid and it was fun seeing her earnestly try to adjust to small village life. but some of the quirks that i think were meant to humanize her and make her charming fell flat or were actually irritating to me.

particularly, she talks out loud to herself--not in little believable affirmations or exclamations, but in actual full sentences about what she's doing and thinking. but sometimes we get her inner thoughts in italics, as well, and there didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to when she's talking out loud (even at times when she's in a dangerous situation and making noise could give her away) and when we see her thoughts. we also get a TON of tiny flashbacks to her schooling, which frequently do end up being at least topically related to what she's doing at any given moment, but that didn't feel to me like they added anything. she recollects long bits of lectures in detail that i didn't gain extra insight from, and it wasn't until maybe the last quarter of the book where the flashbacks became actually part the ongoing plot via one specific teacher who is causing her problems in the present. then the story just...stops, at the turning point of an adventure, after several nested previous adventures had already wrapped up. it felt, to me, like the last chapter or two of this book should have been the beginning of the next one.

again, these are just things that didn't suit my taste--maybe they will be charming and great to someone else! so as always, ymmv.

the deets

how i read it: an ebook on Libby. and yes, i did pick it up because it involves necromancy and is called The Warden and i'm still deep in my Locked Tomb phase...

try this if you: like watching an academic snob make good in a podunk town, dig some travel through the woods, or have fun putting together a light mystery!

a bit i really liked: i can picture this posture exactly

Aelis's back straightened with the precise caution of the drunk who believes no one else can tell they're drunk. "I apologize, Magister," she began, slowly and formally. "Oh," the gnome signed, waving a hand vaguely in the air. "I remember my own graduation week."

[sodaliteskull]

August Wrap-Up

Alas, I haven't been able to get as much done as I wanted to this summer - the burnout is here and it's real! Which is an absolute piss-off, because there's so much writing I want to do, and forcing myself into doing it hasn't been working!

While I haven't been posting as much about it as I should, I have been working on Starcrossed Cycle stuff IRL, and I think I need to move some plot parts around; I'm just not vibing with the way I have events laid out. Next time I have a day off, I'm going to see about going over the bones of this thing to see where I need to fill in with more meat.

As for Silent Island stuff, I'm currently sitting a 898,399 words of edited stuff, the raw word count being 788,077. The biggest contributor to that word count hike is the fact that the lion's share of stories we wrote for this thing weren't started with the intent of being stories, but blossomed out of random bullshit we were posting in our forum, so I've had to go in to actually write proper beginnings for these things:

And then on the flip side, a lot of the stories that were intended to be stories from inception didn't have endings, so I've had to go in to finish those off as well! The word count is only going up from here!

As it stands, having skimmed through all of the remaining stories, I've found that a bunch of them needed to be split up into their individual stories (except one, which had to be Frankensteined together from several different parts taken from several different threads on the forum these were originally written on - one of the drawbacks of writing there was that we ended up having a shitload of stories going at once, and so there was a lot of bleed over where this one particular story had its parts!). On top of that, I found out that several key stories are straight up missing from the forum, so the bestie and I are going to have to rewrite them from what we remember of them - this is going to be hampered by the fact that they were written literally more than a decade ago, and I don't know if either of us reread them before they were gone, so that's going to be fun 🙃

ALSO! Thanks to the skimming, I do know that I am going to need to write some stories to fill in some gaps, because there are events and things mentioned that I know for a fact we only talked about writing IRL, but didn't actually get around to, so all in all, there are roughly 30 stories that are left to either be edited, added to, or just fully straight up written for the Silent Island to be considered complete. I'm still holding out hope that I can get them done by the end of the year, so I can focus on the continuity and polishing pass next year, because, IDEALLY, by the end of 2025, I want to have these stories printed.

Not traditionally published, and definitely not for sale (I only plan on having a handful of copies made for those who wrote for this thing that I am still in contact with). This setting has been with me for the majority of my life, and I want to have it bound and printed in a fucking tome!

[justmybookthots]

I did read a fair bit in April, but for some reason my brain wasn't in the mood to talk about it in my reading journal. Well, now I'm forcing it so it has no choice. I'll just compromise and make my reviews brief. And yes — a lot of thrillers in this month because I didn't want to read anything that had romance in it for a while due to a writing project that was very romance-heavy. I WILL say that reading six thrillers back-to-back has shot my nerves to pieces so 😂

Dead of Winter: I remember reading another book then downloading Dead of Winter and just opening it for a peek. WHAT I DIDN'T EXPECT was that the action had already started in Chapter 1 and next thing I knew, I was reading it like a mad man and I could not stop. I need to say that I guessed the plot twist one-third through the book and some of the logistics behind it but surprisingly, it did not ruin the story for me. It was actually one of the few thrillers I read that made me feel claustrophobic and scared. Long after I was done, I kept thinking about it, feeling a) sad for some of the characters' suffering and b) scared/disturbed. I always thought gore didn't matter to me in written form but this book proved me wrong. Overall a really good book.

Never Coming Home: I enjoyed this one a lot, too. I was also a little disturbed and rattled by this book. More than that, I was sad because some of these people were genuinely all-right people in my books (ha ha, bad pun). But they met a terrible ending, anyway. I kinda had to suspend my disbelief about the killer getting away with this shit but I gotta say: I always enjoy the 'And Then There Were None' premise. 

Everyone is Watching: This thriller actually wasn't scary, and while I'd definitely have complained had I read this first, it ended up serving as a palate cleanser after I read two really disturbing books. This was also my first time reading a book where certain characters DID THE RIGHT THING and weren't completely morally reprehensible, and I was shocked. I don't see likeable/rootable characters in thrillers often. Overall, despite lacking some of the tension and fear I'd normally have liked, it was circumstantially welcome for me and kept me engaged throughout. I would have liked if a certain subplot/thread had been wrapped up though — it had just been left there to dangle.

Ward D: Freida McFadden is often hit or miss for me in regards to story resolution, but this was a HIT!! Again, I guessed the plot twist like one-third the way in (I don't know if I'm being smarter or I've just read too many thrillers), but the journey was so thrilling and I couldn't stop reading. That's her gift, isn't it? Somehow she's perfected the formula to make her books unputdownable. I was cheering for Spider-Dan at the end, haha. I really liked this one!

That's Not My Name: Okay, so this book made me uncomfortable. The idea of a girl waking up and living with a strange man who claims to be her father was so… icky. Can you imagine?? Sharing a secluded cabin with a man you don't even know but you have to take his word that he's your dad? Thank God the man never did anything sexual because I would have vomited right then and there. Also, the ending actually made me tear up because it was really sad. I did skim in parts but other than that a pretty solid book? I don't like this as much as the aforementioned thrillers I read, though.

Everyone Here Is Lying: This was my first time reading a book with this writing style. It feels… well, not bad, just different — almost like I'm reading a report of everyone's POVs in the suburbs. It feels kinda impersonal, the way things are written? I can't put a finger on it. I don't think it's necessarily something I disliked. It was actually very engaging UNTIL the mystery reveal came in and I was like: huh??? This is so anticlimactic. This is the reveal? The culprit was like, barely mentioned up until that point. It's what made me dock a star. Other than that, the journey was pretty entertaining and I love domestic thrillers.

Wrath of the Talons: Okay. So. The first half of this book? I have to say it's kinda garbage. It's extremely repetitive with Lina going around, killing some Blackbloods, then gathering allies with just a few nice words and some baubles/valuables as bribes. I don't think she did it in any way that was significant or impressive, and I don't think she's sly as the other characters keep praising her to be – she's honestly just dumb if you ask me, lmao. I kept comparing her to Jude Duarte and being like: this is a Walmart knockoff. That said, the second half with the Prophecy came in and I was really hooked by that, and how Rui was trying to handle it. I also just really like seeing him in pain because of it. 🙂 In any case, the ENDING is what made a solid three-star book into four stars for me. Or at least a high three stars. That was delicious and I won't spoil it but I loved how it came full circle with the man whose wife Lina killed. I was originally pretty annoyed with how she thought it was okay to deceive that man into an alliance after what she did, but the culmination of that plot point was splendid. I'm really curious about the next book, which is coming out later this year, I think? It's a lot faster than I expected given we waited so long for this book, so I have a feeling this is just a placeholder date, but we'll see!!!

Okay — I'm done wrapping up. I won't be mentioning the Mediator reread right now. All in all, this was a productive reading month for me (shockingly) despite all the fanfic writing I did this month and I'm pretty content about it. I'll see where the next month takes me… 

- 1 May 2024

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Lost Time (Soldier Boy)

Mind games til we lose control drabble

Pairing: Soldier Boy X FSupe!Reader

Summary: After the disaster at Herogasm, you and Soldier Boy blow off some steam, and make up for the loss time. Takes place during that one scene at the beginning of ep7, but like not that. Just same place. This is just porn without a plot I'm sorry.

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex (pls children wrap it before you tap it), p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, creampie, dirty talk bc its Soldier Boy, praising kink, bit of degrading, drug use, brief mentions of stormfront, allusion to attempted sexual assault (NOT from sb). Slightly occ ben, I make him slightly less horrible. This is one is kinda heavy so strap in.

WC: 2k

A/N: pls I'm sorry, I know I'm bombarding yall with soldier boy (smut) I promise I was gonna take few days and post something else, but I was just sitting here thinking how I havent seen any fics of sb eating pussy so I wrote it. I promise I'm not turning into a sb blog, i have a dean winchester fic coming, I just so happened to finish this one in one sitting in like 2 hours. Dont unfollow me pls kay enjoy the sin love yall. Ps I know this is too long to be a drabble but idk what else to call it so just accept it.

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

"And you remember that chick Liberty?" You asked Ben absentmindedly, an arm behind your head as you held a joint to your lips with the other. You heard him hum, his face pressed to your stomach as he left sloppy kisses on your skin, "So turns out she was like a nazi." 

"What the fuck?" He snapped his head up to look at you with a twisted look on his face. You looked down at him and nodded, taking a long drag of the joint before placing it on the ashtray next to you. 

"You didn't know?" 

"Fuck no. I was a soldier during World War II, you think I would've been in the same room as that bitch had I known she was a nazi?" He scoffed and shook his head, looking like he was questioning his life choices. "Fuck, and to think I founded Herogasm with her." 

"Yeah well," You shrugged, watching him with a raised eyebrow as he laid his head on your bare thigh. He was a surprisingly good listener. And since you were pretty much catching him up on all the supe and Vought business he had missed, he was particularly attentive, as well as he could be with you naked and him between your legs of course. "Her and Homelander were fucking, like they were public and everything. And honestly it doesn't surprise me, that motherfucker is a weirdo. And that's saying something." 

"You know the fucker? He recognized you at Herogasm." He raised an eyebrow at you, you could hear the slight bit of possessiveness in his tone. Funny how some things didn't change. He would always throw a fit if he found out you talked to other men, he was the only man in your life. Yeah as if. 

You snorted at him and shrugged, running your fingers through his long honey strands, "Some. He wanted me to join The Seven years ago. I thought about it, and then the motherfucker tried to get me to fuck him in exchange of joining the team. And you know exactly how well that went when you tried it the first time. Told him fuck off and he didn't like it. And of course Vought didn't give a shit when I told them what he did, so I left and they got Noir instead." 

"At least I took no for an answer," He scoffed with both a mixture of disgust and anger. "And for the record, I didn't ask you to fuck me to join the team, I wanted to fuck you, and after that I wanted you to join the team, but those weren't mutually exclusive."

"Oh right, you were such a gentleman." You rolled your eyes at him and chuckled, hoping to humor him, but he still had a hard expression on his face. 

"But he didn't—" 

"No Ben, he didn't do anything. It was a long time ago, I haven't seen him since. Well, not before Herogasm." You reassured him, fingers threading to his scalp, making him close his eyes and hum lowly. 

"I don't know what I would've done if he had laid a fuckin' hand on you when I wasn't there to protect you." He mumbled, his lips pressed against your thigh, you barely heard him, but you did. You sighed softly. 

"Yeah well you're here now. So relax, relax before we have to go fuck some more people up. Enjoy this while you can." You emphasized, biting your lip softly. You saw the way his expression changed, and his pink lips twisted into a smirk. 

"Yeah I'm gonna fuckin' enjoy this alright." He bit his lip, positioning himself so that your legs were on either side of his broad shoulders and he was laying on his stomach. 

You watched with glazed eyes as he drew a line on your stomach and pitched the side or his nose before he dragged it across your stomach, the white substance lingering in his nose. He sat on his elbows, eyes closed as he sniffled and hummed. 

"Christ, that's some good shit." He chuckled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand and looked up at you, pupils so dilated that you barely see the green in his eyes. But you didn't know if that was from the drugs or lust, maybe both. "But this is better." 

You gasped, body jolting when he dipped his head and dragged his tongue over your clit, suckling on the bud for a second or two before he lifted his head up again, leaving you whimpering. 

"Best goddamn pussy I've ever had the pleasure of eating," He rasped, teeth digging into his bottom teeth as he threw your legs over his shoulders, pulling you closer to his face and dived back in, but not before he muttered, "Can't get enough of it." 

He had you like this for hours. Alternating between fucking you with mouth and fingers, and actually fucking you. Ever since you got back from Herogasm, your failed attempt at killing Homelander and pretty much hijacked The Legend's place, you had been in this room, with Ben all over you. He had always been insatiable, but even back then he would get tired too, and would take breaks. But now, he wouldn't keep his hands off you, he was relentless. You pretty much had to beg him to stop and give you a break. To which he surprisingly agreed. But that was maybe fifteen minutes ago, and he figured it was time to continue, while he still could. Make up for the lost time, you guessed. You weren't complaining though.

His long fingers eventually joined the rhythm of his expert tongue. The second you felt two fingers slip into you you began to feel an ache in your stomach. You gave up on words a long time ago. You were nothing but a mess of whimpers and moans by then. Something that definitely fueled Ben's ego, he loved watching you fall apart for him. He knew your body perfectly, and the second one of your hands flew to pull at his hair, he knew he found your trigger. And his fingers curved over that spot, over, over and over until he had you crying out and he felt warm sparks on his scalp. 

Your juices coated his tongue and fingers as you shuddered, your shaky thighs clamping around his head. You were panting, and you could hear your heartbeat thump against your head so hard it made you dizzy. You closed your eyes, hissing softly when you felt Ben's fingers leave you, but his tongue was still drawing slow figure eights on your clit. 

"Such a sweet girl. So fuckin' sweet," He coaxed as he pulled his face away from you. You were still shaking from your high when you felt his lips trail up your stomach until he found your neck, and he was attacking that too. "Now that I got you nice and wet, I'm gonna fuck you real good before those fuckers come in and spoil all the fun. I can hear Butcher outside." 

You half nodded, still a bit blazed from both the weed and your orgasm, but you still helped him shrug off his ridiculous robe. He unraveled it and tossed it aside before taking his already hard cock into his hands. He grabbed one of your legs and held it over his shoulder as he sat back on his knees and positioned himself at your entrance. He slipped in with a groan, his face twisted into a pleasured expression as he watched the way he slid inside your walls with ease. You were already so cock drunk and fucked all you could do was moan. 

"I don't know what I love more, eating this pussy, or fuckin' it." He was drawing back and slamming back in with enough force to make your body slide on the mattress. God, Soldier Boy fucked like he fought, ruthless and with purpose. 

Your head was thrown back, eyes screwed shut and your hands were clutching the sheets so tight you thought you were going to rip them. Though by then the whole room was tossed, somehow some pillows had been ripped in half and you were sure the brick wall had dents in it. It was absolutely messy, filthy and absolutely intoxicating. He was intoxicating. Everything about him. 

"You're squeezing the fuck outta my cock, you wanna come my pretty Violet?" He rasped and panted, his forehead and chest glistening with sweat as he watched the way he fucked himself in and out of your tight walls. And fuck did he love it. "You need me to make you come again? Is that what my pretty slut needs?" 

"Yes! Fuck Ben, please." How you were speaking, you had no idea, but you screamed it, overstimulation and the aching need for release making your vision blurry with tears. 

"Fuck, yeah give me what I want. Come for me, do it now." He ordered, sneaking a hand between your bodies and rubbed quick harsh circles on your clit until he had you crying out and your eyes flashed violet. "Fuck, shit, that's it." 

Your leg hung over his shoulder as he leaned down and held himself up on his forearm as he snapped his hips quickly but more shallow like he was trying to get himself over the edge. You were so drunk on your high you barely noticed when be grabbed your hand placed it on your lower belly, his own hand right of top of yours, and you sure noticed when he pushed down on your belly with the slightly bit of pressure on it and spoke in your ear. 

"You feel that? That's exactly where only I fuckin' belong. Not Homelander, not fuckin' anyone, me." He rasped, a groan leaving his lips when he gave you one final thrust and spilled inside you. 

He kept himself braced on his forearm so as not to crush you with his weight, but his body still laid on top of you, still inside you. Hazily, you threw your arms over his neck and ran one of your hands through his damp hair. His heavy breaths and your own filled the room, but other than that you laid in silence, simply soaking in the feeling of each other. Fuck did it feel right. Too bad it didn't last. 

"Oi children!" You heard an unmistakable cockney accent as the doors suddenly opened, followed by a pair of collective groans. 

"Fuckin' Christ. Can't even fuck my girl in peace." Ben groaned as peeled himself from you and sat up, naked as the day the boys found him. 

"Oh Jesus, please put that away." Hughie muttered to Ben, face red as it could get at the sight of you two naked. 

Despite your still hazy state, you were quick to pull the sheets over your naked body as you sat up. You inhaled sharply as you brought your legs to your knees, muscles already screaming at you for your reckless activities. You eyed the three men in front of you. Legend was going on a rant about the room you destroyed, Butcher was berating Ben for his shitty Intel on Mindstorm, and Hughie just stood there mortified. 

"It's not like you've never seen a dick before. You do have one right? Or do you just have a pussy down there and that's why you act like one?" Ben chuckled, looking directly at Hughie as he stood up, cock half hard and with no urgency to grab his robe from the ground. 

"Ben, stop harassing the kid and put your dick away." You scolded him, being pretty much the only person on this earth that could tell Soldier Boy what to do without being threatened with bodily damage. He glared at you, but complied nonetheless and wrapped the robe around himself. "And you two could learn to fucking knock, save yourself the trauma." You sighed as you looked around the bed for your clothes but they weren't on sight. Until you felt something hit the side of your head and fall on the bed. 

"Asshole." You glared at Ben as you grabbed the hoodie sitting beside you and slipped it on, the smirk on his face making you roll your eyes. 

"Anytime sweetheart." He winked at you before turning his attention to Butcher and Hughie who were going back and forth about Mindstorm. Guess they could find an address after all. 

Well off you were. At least you were able to make up for lost time. 

[khytal]

Would you mind elaborating on how you think stories in games are declining?

yeah I can do that I talked about it a little on twitter the other night

to start I just want to mention that this is based on the games I've played recently, so if you're thinking "well [this game] had a great story" I probably. didn't play it, or plan to sometime

also this is just an observation I'm making about myself. it's not very organized i'm typing this up at 5am

so this is about how good ghost trick's story is. as in so good, the feeling of finishing a game with no questions about anything significant was entirely foreign to me; and it may be the only game to ever make me feel like that for a long time

frankly I don't know if I just chose the wrong new games to play this year, or if it's the whole "sequels are generally worse than the original" thing, or if I've gotten picky about stories, or all of the above (probably all of the above and then some) but ghost trick made me realize I haven't played a single story-driven game (released in 2022) where I came out of the credits satisfied

just "...huh. ok. that's it then I guess"

however, I played a number of older titles where I was like "ohhh that was so good. wow" and was overall happy with the experience

but it's not really just limited to 2022; a lot of the games I played in 2021 too were lacking and/or didn't stick the landing in their stories

these include: p5 strikers (though I played that for the combat so I enjoyed it), ntwewy, lost judgment, nirvana initiative, and xenoblade 3 (this is a weird one bc I didn't dislike it but I didn't feel very strongly opinionated about it when I finished the game)

(tales of arise had several issues but I actually liked the ending a lot so it's an exception)

and then. there are some games I played that weren't story-driven, but had an interesting premise and just. dropped it completely somewhere along the way, or half-assed the explanations: monster hunter rise, world's end club, and smt5

rise is only here bc I thought the thing with the elder dragons speaking through the twins was really cool. and then it turned out to be nothing. but this leads into one of my points: that a lot of games are being released unfinished so players are compelled to buy dlc promising new story content for the loose threads that weren't wrapped up in the base game. and sometimes it still doesn't cover everything important that's missing

although rise doesn't count bc we got the rest of the story in free updates, it WAS literally unfinished at launch. extra content being released in paid dlc has been discussed by plenty of other people though (I just think it's one of the more significant factors contributing to why stories have felt. lacking) so. moving on

my big takeaway after playing ghost trick was that I had grown accustomed to stories that just. have the most slap-a-bandaid-on-it-and-call-it-good endings/explanations ever. I was used to being disappointed (in a "well that was a letdown" way, not an "I'm gonna miss this" way) when the credits rolled. I picked up games that promised a good story and expected important plot lines to never be addressed, because it's happened SO many times

in other words, gt caught me off guard because there was an entirely reasonable answer to every potential question I had. it's like when someone shuts your argument down so completely that you're speechless

this has also been discussed by others but I think being too hypercritical of little things/refusing to suspend disbelief is a "harmful" mindset to have. if you keep actively trying to nitpick something so you can go "I knew it!! this SUCKS" then of course you're going to be hard-pressed to find a "perfect" piece of media

and while I consider myself someone who's fully willing to go "okay, sure" in the moment, I've been exposed to so many posts that read so deeply into something incredibly minor that now I can't help but raise an eyebrow at things I never would've given a second thought to before,,,,,whenever that started

so I guess my other point here is that it feels like a lot of people don't let themselves enjoy stories when the plot gets a little nonsensical at times, or just get super hung up on the flaws. there's a difference between a game with an ending that's so bad you never want to play it again, and a game that was mostly solid but This One Negligible Thing absolutely ruined it for you

and I'm not trying to tell anyone what to enjoy or how to enjoy it but I think people could stand to not focus on the negatives so much, because it makes some stories seem a lot worse than they. actually are

xenoblade 3 is currently kind of getting this treatment (or it's at least pretty divisive from what I can tell), but some of it is actually warranted criticism while the rest of it is a lack of media literacy/not picking up on the show-don't-tell

anyway TL;DR ghost trick is the most complete game, story-wise, that I've ever played. I can't compare any other game to it bc it's on an entirely different level, but at the same time I now know what it feels like to finish a game wholly satisfied with its conclusion. and writers should put more care into the stories they've crafted for their games, particularly if they've been planning it for multiple years (though I'm aware that time constraints/pressure from higher-ups/other variables like that are detrimental to the creative process)

[kitsunefire7]

The final round of Obiyukimadness21 is here!

Here’s my “Rampage Rescue” vs “Only one bed”

Where Yuki swoops in and desperately gets Obi to safety before it’s too late! Also, it’s the return of Morning Glory my oc horse >:D yeehaw

✨And NO you may not trace, copy or steal my work���

STORY TIME!!!

The talented writer @fade-touched-obsidian and art buddy of mine made a story to go with my art and 🥺😭❤️ just ty so much for this. Enjoy her story!!!

Obi had at least been smart enough to bring her along despite his reservations regarding safety.

"Your expertise will be needed, Miss," he'd said. The words that had surprised her only hours ago haunt her now, though Shirayuki seriously doubts that he intended for things to go this far south even way up here in the north. Their relationship with the royal family was never supposed to come to light.

For once, though, it seems Obi is the target for his closeness to Zen rather than hers. He's a known knight of Zen and it was for this reason Eisetsu approached them for help in his quest to seek out Touka supporters within his territory. It's Eisetsu's plan to ferret out traitors to the crown that Obi had been put in harm's way. And it was that closeness that had seen him brutally attacked this evening.

There's nothing to be done for it now, though. It was a task that couldn't be put off. The threat to the royal family is real and present and Obi had gone into the Knight's Ball with Eisetsu thinking all would probably be fine. But things rarely ever do go according to plan.

She and Tsuruba ended up storming the place when Obi collapsed after flashing them the signal out the back balcony. Whatever plans they'd had, had quickly devolved the moment Obi stepped foot inside closed doors that weren't meant for him to open. A foul plot is still afoot but investigator safety is important, though Obi would likely disagree with the abandonment of the mission… if he were still coherent.

Good thing he's not conscious or, if he is, it's because he's hanging on by a fine thread. Conscious or not, he isn't lucid.

It's also a good thing that his life preservation skills are miraculously always present, which raises serious questions about the childhood he evades discussing at all costs but that's neither here nor there right now. What matters is that his heart is still beating, his lungs are still breathing, and his arms are locked around her waist to prevent himself from falling off the back end of the horse.

Shirayuki loses herself to thought for heaven only knows how long. He has a head injury. That will need to be evaluated for internal issues. He's bleeding from several cuts to his left side, the most dangerous being the one on his left leg.

His dark dress pants were already saturated with a worrying amount of blood when Tsuruba and Eisetsu helped gather him up behind her… Tsuruba and Eisetsu- haven't heard their horses in a while. They have his jacket. He will want that back… irrelevant. She discards the thought of his jacket, annoyed with herself for having been sidetracked by the removal of his jacket even if they'd removed it to see the injury to his left arm. He has a cut there. He'll need stitches. Plenty of them. And in plenty of places… and that's if she can even get him home before he bleeds out.

All she has to hold herself together right now is her medical knowledge. He's hurt and he needs her at her absolute best. He might not make it otherwise. He might not make it at all if the injury to his leg continues to weep crimson, which it has, given the amount of blood now spreading into the folds of her skirts as they wrap around him in the wind. Perhaps it would have been wise to move his belt from his waist to his thigh. He can lose a limb and survive. He can’t lose much more blood and claim the same victory.

The blood isn't spurting from anywhere, nor is it gushing. An artery hadn't been hit but several wounds are deep and flowing… so I have time. Just…just not a lot of it. Less than I'd like. A lot less than I'd like. But I have time. He just has to stay with me.

She regrets, only momentarily, that they didn't take the time to resaddle Glory before they took off. Perhaps untacking wasn't the wisest of options but they had planned on being there for a while, not a quick in-and-out that took less than an hour.

It's uncomfortable and moderately dangerous to be riding tandem with an unconscious man without some sort of saddlery but she wasn't willing to waste precious time on something like lunging all the puffed up hot air out of Obi's prankster horse to ensure the saddle holds in place.

"Damn it, Obi. Stay with me," she pleads. But it's met with silence save for the galloping cadence of the horse's hooves at pounds a swift and steady three-count beat into the dirt below.

There’s a plausible chance that the gash on his lower thigh rivals the one that left the scar on his chest. Maybe not in length. But depth? Shock to his system? Certainly. She wasn’t there to help him when he was in danger during his youth but she can do something about this one. Hopefully. She’d hoped she’d never need to- she promised him safety, just as he promises her. Yet, here they are. It isn’t really possible to protect a knight whose job is to protect others with their body, mind, and soul. Sometimes it just happens that they need to uphold their position to the fullest extent. BUt did it really have to always be Obi?

She wrenches her head to the side, trusting Glory to know what to do, so she can look at him and his head rolls slightly on her shoulder. The sticky pull of blood-soaked cloth against her skin bringing her thoughts back to his head injury.

How could a simple investigation excursion turn so quickly into mayhem?

Touka.

Touka and his legion of loyal lackeys. Izana should have just cut the head off the snake and been done with the ordeal.

She doesn't usually agree with a death sentence, but it was an attempted assassination of a royal family member and, furthermore, an attempted coup. Izana would have been next. Leaving the serpent of destruction intact may prove a fatal error if she can't prevent Obi from bleeding out soon.

"Stay with me, Obi, please," she begs as his hands begin to slack around her.

Obi mumbles something incoherent, his lips and tongue made lethargic and uncoordinated by the life blood he's left dripping steadily in a trail behind them.

She just has to make it a little further. The lights of Eisetsu shine in the distance like a beacon guiding her toward Obi's own salvation. It isn't sterile for proper treatment but anything is better than nothing when a life is on the line. They can make it and hopefully that's all he needs.

"I have you, Obi. Stay with me." She's yelling now, trying to break through the hazy veil of his awareness. "Do you hear me?"

He groans, pained and weak.

Tears begin to fall down her cheeks but she doesn't raise a hand to wipe them away. She's a good enough rider to free a hand to do so, but she fears the motion being the force that breaks the dam. Her throat scratches to let out a cry and stifles it with a whisper.

"Stay with me."

[whywasdumbbitchjuicealreadytaken]

The Ballad Of [Y/N] Berry

(Bad guy sanses x female!reader)

Ooooohhh~

Down on your knees before the queen~

You walk down the halls, clinging onto your boyfriend's- G sans's- arm as your "friends" followed not to far from you

Ooooohhh~

Down on your knees before the queen~

The bad guys had gone to [Universe] to check out a shape-able glitch. Since she hadn't been in any other universes, all she needed was a little shove to set her on the right path...

"[Y/N] Berry was a popular bitch. Hot bod, hot boy, cheer captain, plus she was rich~" Nightmare was reading what he knew about the glitch off to the bad sanses

That girl had everything, till hiccup and hitched; Julie Jenkins lost a leg in a crash (Am-pu-ta-ted)

Horror, raspberry, and dust were the first to observe you. Killer was supposed to be here but he was was still healing up after the initial crash that he had caused. Raspberry's eyes examined your body, he elbowed dust and pointed you out to him. He didn't bother with horror, seeing as he was already staring..

The nominations for prom royalty came,

You smirked to yourself, you knew you were going to win just like every other year

Our [Y/N]'s senior year, and queen was her claim...

You felt someone tap your shoulders. You spun around to see, it was fell and cross from your biology class. "don't worry sweetheart we'll vote for ya." Fell wink, cross energetically nadded as an agreement and the two walked away. "Uh.. thanks i guess?" You muttered.

Till gossip stirred, the student body would name Julie Jenkins, queen of prom. (Pi-ty-Vote)

You blinked in shock as you saw the votes and what people were saying. An arm around your waist pulled you into a taller figure

"[Y/N]," G sans said "Life is like a prom, i know you wont disappoint me and mom..?".

With that, he walked away. Your mother died in an accident when you were 6 and whenever you fail, you always felt as if you were disappointing her..

"You taste the silver [Y/N]? You taste the crown?" Your desk neighbor, Bill, asked you. You simply ignored him. You heard someone tap you desk and you look up to see Alisans(alistor sans..?)

"You thirst for blood from the roses in hand." He told you. You stood up. "May i be excused??". The teacher nodded and you left the class.

You spoil for stash and scepter, music to dance, as they crown you queen of highschool land~

CHECK [Y/N]

CHOOSE [Y/N]

VOTE, FOR [Y/N] BERRY

Your eyes widened to see red X's on your vote for [Y/N] posters

CHECK [Y/N]

CHOOSE [Y/N]

VOTE FOR [Y/N] BERRY

You reported it to the principal then went about your day. Everything was normal until..

So obsessed our [Y/N] near lost her mind. To life Un-prom related, [Y/N] was blind.

Prom was getting to you. The pressure you were getting from G sans, your friends, and the constant feeling of someone watching you was driving you insane. Was worse, is it seems G was paying more attention to Julie then you..

She shoved her squad, her clique and boyfriend behind, Still one-leg Julie held to the lead. (Poor, poor Julie)

You sighed and ran your hand through your hair.

Soon [Y/N]'s sanity was hung by a thread, Her B.F.F.'s proclaimed her socially dead.

Your eyes narrowed 'fine. I don't need them!' You huffed and sat in your seat next to cross in chemistry. Atleast you still had G. You saw your boyfriend looking at you. You smile at G, but it quickly faltered when he turned away and began talking to Julie. You felt your phone buzz

Till then, at last, her boyfriend texted and said: "I'm taking Julie to the senior Prom." (Love, love Julie)

Your heart dropped and you decided to confront him after class. "G," you said calmly "what the hell? Why are you taking julie??".

"[Y/N]" G said "why be so calm, theres just no future for a Princess of prom."

You sat at home, on the evening of prom, shakily putting on your eyeliner and black lipstick/ lip gloss. You tried to hold your smiled but you couldn't keep a smiled and hold back tears at the same time..

You taste the Silver [Y/N]! You taste the crown.

You watch as your tears, accompanied by long black tears slowly fell down your face

You thirst for blood from the roses in handYou spoil for sash and scepter, music to dance, As they crown you Queen of High School Land.

You're smile faltered and you realize what must be done in order to be queen. You put on your blue flowy dress, it was off shoulder and had a slit in the left side.

Ooooh~

You walked downstairs and opened the front door to see Alisans, he handed you a hammer and kissed your hand then caressed your cheek. He handed you a rose and took you to G'S house.

Down on your knees before the queen~

You arrived at G's house found him walking towards his car, her ran up behind him and smashed a hole in the back if his skull.

Ooooooh~

You mercilessly stomped his head in and watched him turn to dust. But you weren't done.

Get on your knees before the queen~

You walked in front of the school and felt a hand grab your own. You looked up to see Bill, he winked and you smiled. He handed you a white rose and led you inside.

"$0m£ g!r|$ @r€ r@t!0^@| bUt [Y/N] ₩@$ ^0t"[translation: some gurks are rational, but [Y/N] was not]

Error told Nightmare with a smirk as the two watched. You had gone inside the bathroom.

She stared in mirrors thinking one single thought: There's seven reasons this crown's not good as got. And so the night of Prom, mercy! Thus went her plot;

Bill had gave you rat poisoning, you dumped it in one of your "friend's" punch, her blood had gotten on your rose.

"P" is for Patricia, drinking poisoned punch

Fell had came up next to you and snaked an arm around your waist. He took you outside and gave you a rock, while you were scanning the area you spotted Raquel.

"R" is for Raquel, dashed on a rock (crunch)

Fell handed you a blood cover rose. Cross grabbed your hand and brought you out back. Anne was busy getting high. You picked up a nearby brick and bashed her brains in.

"O" is what Anne said when Sara bludgeoned her brains

Cross kissed your cheek and handed you a blood rose like fell did. You went back inside where horror greeted you. You both went to a classroom, where you found Marianna. Horror showed you how to chop her up just right

And "M" is Marianna's marinated remains.

Horror pulled you into himself. He wrapped one arm around your waist and the other rested on your lower back. He swayed side to side in a sort of dancing motion. You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder with your hands on his chest.

But!But!

Dust cleared his throat. Horror scoffed and stopped swaying, he handed you a blood covered rose and winked at you. You went over to dust and held his arm. He led you to the school pool you spotted another friend and you made you work quick.

"Q" is for Quiara, quiet, drowned in the pool.

Dust gave you a bloody rose and took you to the kitched. In there, you helped raspberry chop up the body of Eunice.

"U" is for Eunice's pieces spread round the school

Raspberry gave you a rose and you left to find Julie..

But "E's" are for the easy way in five minutes tops. A one-legg'd girl can bring an "N" for end by calling the cops.(what a bitch)

You got your silver [Y/N], you got your crown

Nightmare placed a crown on your head

You got their blood on your roses in hand

Error gave you the roses using his strings

You donned the sash and scepter, doing a dance,

The bad sanses all took turns dancing with you on stage

As you crowned you Queen of High School Land!

You watched them leave with a smile on your face, this is all you've ever wanted. This is all you could of ever hoped.

Woah-oh-oh-oh, Oh, Oh!

God save the Queen...

Down on your knees before the Queen.

God save the Queen.

After about 30 minutes, you see flashing blue and red lights outside. You walk out, ready to accept your fate.

Woah-oh-oh-oh, Oh, Oh!

The Queen of High School Land.

Down on your knees before the Queen.

The Queen of High School Land.

They wrapped your wrists in silver, they took your crown

Your eyes widened as you watched them put the crown into an evidence bag "WAIT NO! STOP!" You cried as your dreams began to be taken away from you.

As they washed your bloody fingers and hands.

You weren't ready to go, you bit and scratched to the people who tried to wash you. They ended sedating you.

Into a tight straitjacket, small padded cell, As you screamed, 

"I'm the queen of highschool land!!" You screeched and ran into the door repeatedly. The doctors came back in and sedated you again. The next thing you knew, you were in the arms of nightmare

At least in your head, you're Queen of High School Land.....

It had been several years, but you found julie. The boys[and Sunny] have been very affectionate and protective of you, Even error! Yeah I'll let that soak in.

Pity the dead! You're Queen of High School Land.

You began walking through the halls every sans you'd pass would sinister-ly grin.

CHECK [Y/N]

CHOOSE [Y/N]

VOTE FOR [Y/N] BERRY

Everyone gathered in the throne room as you approached it, you were dragging a crying,screaming,pleading, and begging Julie behind you by her hair.

CHECK [Y/N]

CHOOSE [Y/N]

VOTE FOR [Y/N] BERRY

You walked in and error shut the doors. A series of screams,applause,and laughter were heard from the throne room not long after.

[hughiecampbelle]

Wildflowers (Shelby!Reader × Bonnie Gold Oneshot)

Character/s: Bonnie, Aberama mention

Word Count: 1,365

Inspired By: Silver by Nim Nim

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @death-of-a-mermaid @lotsoffandomimagines @woahitslucyylu @obsessedunicorn24 @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @theshelbyclan

A/N: Another Bonnie fic! Though he's still not a character I write for, I couldn't stop thinking about this plot. This has been sitting in my writers block folder for weeks!!! I really did love my original idea, but I also think what it turned into is pretty good, too :) I haven't been feeling confident at all in my writing, which is part of the reason why I haven't posted a fic lately. I do love some paragraphs, but others I just wanna throw in the trash. It can't stop me from posting it though because I really do wanna get through this block. I'm thinking of doing a part two? Lmk if you'd want that! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

FIC MASTERLIST PART ONE. / PART TWO.

WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

Beneath the clouds, so grey, so sad, sunlight blessed the trees, the leaves dancing in the breeze. Grass, overgrown, free to sway. Birds, bugs, everything seemed so alive, so eager to breathe and shout and let their presence be known. Unapologetically there, in their own skin. Going home, all of them, awaiting the impending storm. Static hung in the air, a heavy curtain, a blanket on your breastbone. Too thick to breath. The wind picking up. Brushing the leaves, the petals and pollen, across the stone pathway, down the dirt road, through the fields of wildflowers. You sat in the heart of it all, the warmth of the bright morning wrapping you in a it's arms, cupping your cheeks, holding all your broken pieces together. The heat in the air tracing your skin, kissing your face, as if it wanted to thaw every bad thing that had ever happened from your bones, stripped of what used to make you so angry. A warm step beneath your feet, your spine arched, in between your palms a mug. Eyelids heavy, wary of the bright outside growing dim, welcoming the day with a soft, cautious hello. Thunder rumbling, warning, threatening, baring it's teeth at the world. Lightning would follow soon, more timid, dancing on its toes, reminding you of the baby of the family, your youngest brother How you missed him. In no time, just as the storm, they would be here, and like the bugs, the babes, the blossom, you would be ready.

Prick and pinch your flesh all you wanted, this was no dream.

A home in the countryside. Tall, lopsided, full of warmth, of love. Standing on its own, reminding you so much of him, of what you were together. Defiant. Stubborn. Strong. Chipped bowls, and baskets of fruit, the sweetest stuffed between sugar and pastry. Patchwork quilts and holes in socks. Timid smiles, light touches, the faint smell of vanilla, lavender, of the bouquet he plucked on his way back. Honeyed kisses, promises of sweet dreams, of perfect mornings. Fireflies like fallen stars, a moon to sweet not to nibble at. A sleepy breeze, urging you to bed. This was your escape. Your hideaway, as far from the city as you could get. A place to yourselves, where time froze. The seasons changed, throwing you into the icy grips of the winter, the sweltering heat of the summer, but you, and him, together the same. Together safe, happy. Free.

It wasn't always like this, though.

Blood splatter. Silver jewelry. Broken bottles. A haze, all of it. The story torn apart and sewed together, limb by limb, coming to you in flashes, in nightmares, waking in a cold sweat. A time of regret, embarassment, of a pain so deep the wound never stopped bleeding. Still hasn't. Covering up a sadness no one cared to see, to acknowledge. A family only in words. Invisible, ignored, wanting to be seen, your screams of help falling on deaf ears. You were an object to them, and the rest of the world. A toy. The city lights bright, blinding, drawing you in on their own dark vices. Blacking out. Drink after drink until you were stumbling, fumbling, forgetting your own name. Falling for strangers. Skin on skin, their hot breath melting your neck, starved kisses up and down your body until you lay beside them, crushed, wanting to scrub yourself clean of this routine. An escape. A search for a home that never belonged to you. Drown out the thoughts, the fears, the misery. Putting your trust into their words. Once a Shelby, always a Shelby. Theirs to carry was also yours. A gun by birthright. A shallow grave you'd fall into too young, but just as guilty. Slip from the covers, one last swig to carry on. They wouldn't see you for days. A bender. Come down slowly, step by step, until you were light enough to face them, face the job, face the body behind the barrel. It was all the same.

This wasn't the life you wanted to live.

You didn't want to live at all if it meant going through the motions.

Calling him. One night, from someone else's phone, their body breathing shallow, steady, wrapped in nothing but grimy sheets. Another handprint on your thigh, another nameless face you'd wonder about. On the edge of the mattress, begging, desperate, scared. A noose like a necklace hanging around your neck. Dainty, delicate, dangerous. You needed someone, anyone. If they answered, it wasn't too late. That's what you told yourself. He wasn't the first number you dialed. Sibling by sibling, your brothers first, then sister. The bar, the shop, even your aunt too busy. You weren't quite sure why he was next, that he was there at all, Aberama giving you it for emergencies. Maybe it was the last number you could remember. Maybe you wanted a second chance, maybe you wanted to live after all. You barely even knew him, or his brown eyed boy. The few times you spoke he was warm, inviting, at times a little akward in a way that made you smile. But he picked up. His voice rusty, raspy, woken too early in the morning. A hint of panic. No call came with happy news at an hour like this. You apologized for waking him, regret pooling in your gut, spilling out into words like the vomit on your chin, but he stopped you, cut you off, not wanting you to hang up. There had to be a reason. So, he listened. A boy with big dreams listened until the sun came up. To the shakes, the sobs, the grief in your voice for the person you lost, the person you wanted so desperately to kill. To finally put an end to.

That was almost a year ago.

The Dark Days. They had a name, a date, a birthday, and a time of death. Those were the months, years, mere seconds, flashes of time you had a hard time remembering, that you wanted so desperately to leave behind. Hazy, drunken, angry. You wanted to hurt yourself more than anyone, and you did. But now, you could move on. He was there when no one else was. At first, as a friend. Then, something more. Someone more. The one to catch you when the floor fell through, when your body lay broken after time and time again hitting rock bottom. You loved Bonnie, and he loved you. It was simple, effortless, the only thing that ever made sense in this big, twisted life. The city too enticing, the bloodline too polluted, there was no way you could have shed your shadow in a place like that. So, you found this place together. Scraped together paychecks, pocket change, selling what you could. Taking solace in the comforts of one another. Making it your own.

Not a drop since.

The thunder clapped, applauding, warning you. Rain pounding on the roof, plopping in deep puddles, watering the wildflowers. A dreary grey tint cast overhead, illuminating the greens of mother nature. Lightning striking, slicing the sky right down the middle. You watched from the kitchen window, Bonnie behind you, his hand grabbing yours. One last second of peace before the storm ripped you apart. Windchimes bawling, crying, begging you to run. Now. The animals quiet, listening, anticipating the threat yet to come. Not the storm, though. But them. A black car drove softly through the mucky waters, mud splashing on the shiny black paint. Closer, closer, stopping short of the lopsided fence either you or Bonnie had yet to finish painting. He always promised he'd get to it one day. Long coats and caps with blades stitched with thread and blood. You hadn't seen any of them since. Leaving without a goodbye, without another word, disappearing in the night with a promise of a home of your own. You weren't sure how they found you, why they came at all. Whatever they said, or did, would never make you change your mind, make you go back.

Not to the Dark Days.

You weren't interested in being a Shelby anymore, you were a Gold now.

[sophiaforevs]

Year of Hell is, imo, the biggest missed opportunity in all of Trek. Imagine if they hadn't reset the timeline and instead took a couple episodes to "pick up the pieces." Here's how I would've loved to see it played out:

Ep 1 is mainly a survival adventure about living on a barely functional ship as they try to round up the crew from the escape pods.

Ep 2 (possibly a two-parter) continues that thread but there's a bit more stakes as you get into the pods that are in active danger (maybe one is crash landed on a hostile planet or have been taken prisoner by some alien of the week). The B-Plot is entirely about the crew dealing emotionally with the events of the last year. How is Tuvok adjusting to life as a blind man with his seeing eye Seven? Harry was just put though the worst year of his life while his best friend lived in a gilded cage. Two very different traumas. How does this impact their friendship? In my head, this conflict comes to a climax with Tom trying to joke things away and Harry ends up screaming at Tom "You weren't here! I thought you were dead! You don't know what life was like for me!"

Ep 3 wraps up the arc with Voyager meeting a group of aliens similar to the Federation. They help Voyager patch up their ship, share maps, and open their doors for r&r. Maybe there's a b-plot involving the Doctor meeting a group of holograms with full rights and responsibilities in their society. This advances his own narrative and he finally chooses a name (I always thought it should have the initials EMH and have historical significance, so maybe Ehrlic Mayo Hess).

Moving forward we have a new status Quo:

Blind Tuvok with a stronger bond with Seven.

Janeway keeps her badass scars even though the Doctor assures her he can remove them. She keeps them as a reminder of her strength and what she will do to survive and keep Voyager going.

A retrofitted Voyager. It's been upgraded and looks quite a bit different than how it did leaving space dock. This is seen both inside and outside the ship.

It would've been nice to get a time skip at some point. Just like three years? It gives you a chance to do some implied continuity which is always fun when done well, gives a better excuse for Naomi Wildman suddenly being 8 other than just "Ktarians age really fast." Do it after DS9 ends so you don't have any conflicts in the timeline.

i’m thinking about voyager season four, and how much of it just… doesn’t happen in any way that matters. 

“year of hell” is nuked from the timeline. most of the crew weren’t themselves for and don’t remember the hirogen occupation in “the killing game”. “unforgettable”? forgotten. “living witness” is alien fanfic our crew aren’t even aware of.

there are also a handful of unreality episodes in here. the point of “nemesis” and “retrospect” is that the traumatic events chakotay and seven experience didn’t actually happen. the crew all remember “waking moments”, but it’s kind of a folie-a-everyone since it takes place in dreams.

i reblogged that post yesterday making the broader point about voyager hitting the reset button in other seasons (“before and after” / “timeless” / “course:oblivion” / “endgame”), so i’m not really treading new ground here, but i find it interesting that so much of season four happens for us but not for them.