#all that glitters is not silver (ooc)

[creatureshrieks]

hey just a reminder that maria is a dancer (yeah, a stripper), but that doesn't make her trashy or someone that just constantly wants sex. or that she's 'easy'. she might be flirtatious but outside of James who is a massive exception to literally everything (and even then there's nuance), she doesn't want to jump your muse. she's not going to just have sex with your muse.

you probably couldnt afford her even if you wanted it.

[adevilyouknow]

He's adorable when he's mad with the way he scrunches up his nose. Find the difference between these four images. You can't.

[newfngs]

michael should kiss david on the lips it's what david deserves

[64ko]

lol. lmao, even

[blxcklxdge]

transparent thumbs up cooper for all your transparent thumbs up cooper needs

[vegone]

Todd's an idiot.

[deepdarkdelights]

How would this whole situation work if after ATG jimin got married he had to go to the military. But wait, can you imagine if he went in his 20s and he sees mc coming to visit her boyfriend who's on ATG Jim's unit 💀

Hm, that's an interesting question. To be honest, I never think about military service when I'm writing my works and generally I don't specify what country the story takes place in so that it can be more applicable to readers from different countries (although I am aware that I have not always been 100% successful at that).

With ATG we know they go to Jeju island so the setting of the fic leans toward South Korea but other factors in the fic lean towards the U.S.

But oh boy, would that scenario end poorly if that happened, I would hope after everything they have been through the MC would be smarter and not make a decision to do something like that 😂

[nghthowls]

it's hearing nothing but breathing from behind the mask. it's unable to see what's under it. what does it look like? what are they feeling? it's unable to see where they're looking. what they want from you. desire? love? hate? do you they want to kill you?

[pomefioredove]

May I please have a sugar cookie, order number 15, with sprinkles & chocolate chips?

I'm super excited I came in time for this event, I adore your blog & am excited to see what comes of this.

(Pardon me as I cross my fingers in hoping to get one of my babygirls or just one of my faves)

—🐈‍⬛

you get one of MY babygirls. praise mana-sama for helping me through requests today

order #15, sugar with sprinkles and chocolate chips

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ unlike yourself

tropes: hurt/comfort, fake dating characters: rook additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, short and sweet, probably ooc

It's strange, you think.

Rook Hunt, the mysterious, distant vicewarden, loved you more in an evening than anyone else had in months.

Only an act. You had to remind yourself of that, every time he squeezed your hand or pulled you closer to him.

Every time he whispered something silly in your ear, every time he kissed the back of your hand. Only an act.

"I could write a thousand poems of you, mon amour, and never become bored of it,"

At some point, you had stopped looking at the others. You had forgotten they were there altogether.

It's only an act.

It felt like a fairytale, glittering, iridescent and silver, yet one that still ended at midnight in rags and pumpkin seeds.

You didn't want to think about that.

That by sunrise, the event would be over, and you would be back to your life. Back to your drafty dorm and secondhand clothes, back to your cold, lonely mornings. Back to yourself.

Back to the person you so hated.

Rook made you feel something unlike yourself. You were someone beautiful to him, someone interesting, someone loveable, someone worth teaching to dance, no matter how many times you stepped on his toes.

He only smiled.

You had asked him to be your date, to lie with you, to act with you, to prove to everyone that you were that someone, so unlike yourself, that you were beautiful and interesting and loveable, and worthy.

It had been your request. Just two hours, you said, and now you selfishly want more. You want years.

You want to make him feel the way he makes you.

"Your eyes are watering," Rook whispers, holding your face and drying your tears with the gentle touch of his gloved thumbs.

"Why are you sad, mon ange?"

You can't tell him. It's only an act. It's only an act. You want him to stay. He can't. He won't.

You can't ask him to stay.

"You are tired," he says, smiling sweetly, his cupid's bow curving. "Let's get you home, Trickster."

He's right, of course.

And you don't want to leave, you don't want to lose something on the velvet steps of the dorm, but you do, for him.

He walks you back to Ramshackle himself. He tucks you in bed and makes you something warm to eat since you both know the silver-plated hors d'oeuvres weren't enough.

You don't want to close your eyes. But he asks you to sleep, and you do, for him.

And so you wake up in your drafty dorm and your secondhand clothes in a bed that isn't really yours, feeling like yourself again.

But today, on this cold morning, he's sitting with you, and it isn't lonely.

"Oh, Trickster," he whispers, leaning over your, holding your face and gazing at you with something like softness.

"You did not have to ask me to stay. The answer is always yes."

And he kisses, again and again, your lips, your cheeks, your nose and head. He kisses that person, the one in rags, the messy one, the lonely one, you. He kisses you. He wants you.

And you think, perhaps this person, this yourself, isn't so bad.

Rook loves them, after all.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Please can you write something with Bill? 🥺 I would really like him in your writing style

✮⋆˙ twinkle twinkle little star (Bill Cipher x reader)

author note: hii, so this is my first time writing Bill Cipher (if we’re not counting smut LOL), so if he feels a little OOC, I’m so sorry in advance :((

“You’ve got no idea how small you are. A little ant, crawling on the rim of a soda can, thinking the universe stops where the metal curves. But you’re lucky, babe. You’ve got me to show you the truth.”

You never should’ve made that deal and you knew it.  

You should've known better than to trust him.

“Love” wasn’t the word for it.

At first, it felt. . .  flattering. Who wouldn’t be seduced by the idea of being special in the eyes of something so vast, so incomprehensible? But Bill wasn’t the type to love, not in the way you understood it. 

He didn’t love you, not the way humans did. Bill Cipher didn’t do love. You were his curiosity, obsession, a bright, burning light in his endless void. 

He called you his little star, but very soon it turned into his pretty, breakable toy. And you hated how the words made your skin prickle, how his attention felt like sunlight filtered through glass, so beautiful and searing, but dangerous if you stayed too long.

He never asked you to love him. That would imply some sort of equality, wouldn’t it? Something mutual, balanced, tender. No, Bill Cipher wasn’t a man or a demon. . . or a whatever he was, who traded in such mortal trivialities. Love? What even was that, anyway? A chemical spill in the brain? A pathetic excuse for self-destruction? Hilarious!

Instead of your love, Bill demanded your existence. Every breath, every thought, every fleeting moment of fear or fury or fascination, it all belonged to him, as surely as the stars belonged to the sky. And wasn’t that the whole point? To take something so ordinary, so inconsequential and remake it in his image?

Bill didn’t love you. He consumed you. 

He didn’t care about your happiness or well-being, but he cared about your essence and your potential. 

The stars were his obsession, and now you were too.

When he first spoke to you about the them, he said, “you humans love to romanticize the heavens, don’t you? Gazing up with your sad little eyes, dreaming of escape, like you’re anything more than dust stuck in a whirlpool. But you, sweetheart, you could be a star if you wanted.” 

And it sounded too tempting.

***

With fear and trepidation, you realised that you would like him to appear more often in your life. You felt lonely and empty without that singular eye which was so damn alive in ways human ones could never be. When Bill Cipher looked at you it felt as if the fabric of the universe peeled back, and for the first time, someone truly saw you.

“You’re different,” he whispered once and his voice sounded like molten gold. “They’re all rats in a maze, but you’ve got potential. You could shine, dear.”  and you believed him.

Maybe that’s why, when he first tore the sky apart and dragged you into a void of glittering stars, you didn’t scream.

Because Bill doesn’t show you space, he shoves you into it. 

It was fucked up, all of it. 

The way he could snap his fingers and peel the world apart like wallpaper, exposing the writhing void beneath it. Bill doesn’t do anything halfway. One moment you’re standing on Earth, listening to him wax poetic about infinity; the next, you’re drowning in the universe itself. 

“Look what I can do. Look what I’ve seen. And now, you get to see it too!” Bill said excitedly meanwhile all you could do was only stare, slack-jawed, as galaxies spun like pinwheels with their light painting you in hues of silver and violet.  

Bill’s laugh cuts through the silence like static on a dying radio. “Beautiful, isn’t it, dear? A front-row seat to the cosmic symphony! And guess what? You’re the lucky guest of honor!”

“Fuck,” you whispered in awe, not even daring to blink.

Bill laughed at you again. “Exactly, baby! Fuck! That’s the kind of reaction I’m talking about! Do you get it now? While all these other ants were busy bumping into walls, I saw this. This!”

His eye spun toward you, unblinking, watching you from head to toe. He watched you both worshipful and utterly unhinged because for him you were part of those infinite constellations he adored, he watched you like you were the only thing that mattered in a universe of infinite distractions.

“You could be one too. A star.” Cipher spoke.

You didn’t ask what he meant back then, only laughed. “Stars burn out, Bill.”  

“Yeah, but they make one hell of a show first.” 

But how sad that stars didn’t just shine, they exploded.

***

It wasn’t all chaos and destruction, not at first. There were soft and tender nights, when the storm of his mind calmed just enough to let the starlight through.

Bill Cipher didn’t have lips to kiss, but he had power and he wielded it for you when he felt like it.

One of the clearest proofs of his power was that night by the lake.

You remember it, the night the moons danced just for you. 

Bill hated water, loathed its constraints, its rules, but he was levitating beside you anyway, watching as you waded deeper. You floated on your back, staring up at the night sky, feeling the silence, enjoying it. His eye gleamed in the darkness, lighting you up, taking you in like a masterpiece he didn’t know how to ruin just yet, but there was unusual softness in his voice when he snapped his fingers. 

And the moons, now two of them, impossibly large, swelled and glowed with light. And then the lake shimmered, the ripples reflected the radiance until it looked as though you were swimming through liquid silver, no. . . melted pearls in their beauty.

And it took your breath away.

“You like it?” he asked in a casual tone. “I can make it brighter, if you want. Or darker. Or gone.” 

And as if reading your mind, Bill snapped his fingers once more and the two moons shone even brighter.

“Better now, right? It’s for you, sweetie,” he said, leaning on his cane. “The moon, the stars. . . hell, the universe.”

You hated how beautiful it was. How much it felt like it was for you. But back then, you felt loved. Or at least, something close enough to it.  

***

Bill was everywhere. In your mind, in your shadow, in the air you breathed.

But love with Bill was never meant to be gentle, it meant to be a trap. A game played in his favor, in which you were destined to lose. It started small, quiet, too quiet to notice and react, his words cutting deeper, his charm was imbued with a poison. He didn’t just want you near; he wanted to own you, to reshape you in his image, to pull you apart until there was nothing left but the star he claimed to see in you.

He didn’t just want your attention, he demanded it, craved it with a desperation that was feral. And when you tried to push back, tried to claim even the smallest piece of yourself, he didn’t take it well.

One night, after you’d dared to argue with him, to tell him no, he burned with a rage that lit up the sky. His form glowed red, large, his voice so loud and low that made the ground tremble beneath your feet.

“You think you can defy me? You think you can just walk away? Newsflash, sweetheart: you’re mine. You’ve always been mine. And you’re not going anywhere.”

He grew restless. Obsession turned to cruelty. When he spoke, it was no longer about the stars you could see, but the ones he wanted you to become. His anger was cosmic, vast and unrelenting, and it terrified you.

“You’re wasting yourself here,” he snarled one day, his triangular form flashing red again as he hovered above you. “These people, this place, they’re nothing. I could make you mor—”  

“W-what are you even talking about, Bill?” you spat, though your voice trembled. “I’m human, Bill. I can’t—”  

“Bullshit! You can. You just won’t. And that’s what makes you pathetic. You think you can leave me? Do you even know what I’ve done for you? What I’ve shown you?”

You stared at him, trembling, but still defiant. “You’ve shown me a prison with a prettier view.”

And Cipher only laughed. “Prison? Sweetheart, I’ve given you the fucking stars! You’d be nothing without me. Nothing.” if he had a mouth, it’d be that disgusting crazy wide grin.

You wanted to run. But how do you run from someone who can rewrite the very ground beneath your feet?

***

You remember the terror of Weirdmageddon because you were at the center of it all. Not by choice, never by choice, but because that’s what he wanted. And what Bill Cipher wanted, he took.

But when it was over, when the Pines family managed the impossible, when Bill was defeated, erased from Stanley’s mind, when they unraveled Bill’s madness, tore him apart, and your world snapped back into place, the silence felt. . . deafening. 

You didn’t see Bill fall, not directly, but you felt it, you knew it was over, the sudden, aching silence where his presence used to be.  

The world felt smaller without him, quieter, duller. And you hated yourself for noticing.

You should’ve been relieved.

But instead, you stood in the ashes of his world, staring up at a sky, at the empty space where his chaos had once burned so brightly.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t laugh. 

And you remembered the stars. But Bill taught you that stars were always meant to burn out.

You remembered the way his voice softened when he talked about them, how excited and happy he sounded, the way he’d show you galaxies as if they were flowers he’d plucked just for you. You remembered the way he watched you, like you were the only thing in all of creation that mattered.

Even now, after his fall, you hope he remembers the galaxies. . . or if he’s just another forgotten star, lost to the void.

And you wondered if, somewhere, in some forgotten corner of the universe, he remembered and saw stars too.

[creatureshrieks]

ur onions. give me ur onions.

[adevilyouknow]

In case anyone is curious to my Tavs and what have you... and because I'd simply like to show them off.

Claurrhac - He/Him. Black Dragonborn Paladin of Devotion. Soldier background. Veyr kind, very sweet, and will absolutely die for you. Like kids, animals, and grilled meats. Basically lawful good. Refuses to engage with the Tadpole in anyway, including mental domination. Romancing Shadowheart on his file (except in the multiplayer version of him because Shadowheart missed 20 attacks in a row and I put her in time-out so I guess I'm going with Gale LOL).

Elovar - He/Him (transgender). High Half-Elf Bard/Rogue multiclass. Entertainer background, though I debated on Urchin since in his lore he was left with his human father who is poor. Resorted to theft to survive, until he learned how to play an instrument. Used his instrument and magical skills as a means to distract while he stole from the gathered crowd. Chaotic neutral. May or may not use tadpole depending on if it suits him. Not currently romancing anyone.

Uriran - He/Him (transgender). Wood Elf Circle of Moon Druid. Outlander background. Grew up very deep in the wilds with his Druidic circle, spent most of his time in Wildshape. He struggles with conversing with people and prefers the companionship of animals. True neutral. Does not use tadpole powers. My first Tav, my baby boy. Romancing Halsin (as you can see).

Senrin - He/They/She (questioning). Lolth-Sworn Drow Necromancer Wizard. Sage background. Left the Underdark due to some... ideas regarding their own self. Crisis of faith they willfully ignore and pretend as if everything is fine. A bitch for fun and pleasure and profit. Currently traveling around with a Cleric of Lathander on the multiplayer save for fun. Willingly using Tadpole powers like they're going out of style. Likes power, money, and making other people do the dirty work. Neutral evil. Romancing Astarion but who knows where that will go. Sometimes likes to run around as a Tiefling (via disguise self) in lore to bother their Cleric because their Cleric is a tiefling and he gets unsettled.

Virris - He/Him. Half High-Elf Sorcerer (Gold Draconic Heritage). Noble background. Not a bad person, but you get the idea he's still snobby and pretentious. Very much enjoys their 'natural' magic powers and not needing to study for decades or trade their soul or what not for it. Does drag for fun. Neutral good. Will not use tadpole powers. New file so he isn't really with anyone as of yet.

Indrin - He/Him. Half-Drow Warlock (Great Old One). Urchin background. Orphaned at a young age, made some shady deals with shady outer gods for survival. Gave up his right eye to his patron as one of their pact deals. May dabble in some Tadpole powers if they benefit him and his patron doesn't loose its mind. Not romancing anyone.

Eva - She/Her. Technically she's a BG3 version of an NPC from a totally different campaign, but... A 'wizard' since that's the closest thing that fits her. 'Tiefling', though she only looks like one in appearance.

I also have a Githyanki monk and a human fighter, but I haven't developed them too much as of yet.

Do you fuck with my Tavs.

[newfngs]

i still hate that 'new' blogs have the 'for you' first and you can't move them.

[64ko]

once again small reminder that negascott canonically has fangs as bryan has drawn negascott with them before

[blxcklxdge]

not my muse but every time dale cooper is on screen i just start giggling and stimming this man makes my heart swell so much

[vegone]

Look at this 😭😭😭 I wanna be a wallace so bad but IK deep down I'm a Todd 💔

NOOOOOO TODD!!!! POOR TODD!!!! Wallace you threw away a GOOD MAN!!! AND FOR WHAT!!!

But mood, I get it</3