#half of the twists are FANTASTIC and the other half are so stupid you want to punch a wall | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ckret2 · 5 months ago

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Chapter 60 of human Bill Cipher almost wasn't the Mystery Shack's prisoner but he's back here for some reason:

Everything you never even imagined about how Bill survived his execution.

(warning for cultists doing cultish activities in this chapter. and i don't mean "fantastical Blind Eye Society hijinks," i mean "discussing how to indoctrinate & isolate new recruits.)

####

"Hiya, Stan!" Bill Cipher beamed brilliantly. His gold tooth matched his new coat. "Didja miss me yet?"

Stan punched Bill in the nose.

Bill tumbled on his back, hand over his face. Voice tight with pain, he said, "Just so you know, I let you do that."

Stan's voice hit a pitch he hadn't been able to reach since puberty. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING ALIVE!"

Bill sat up gingerly. "Well, funny story—"

"NO! Nuh-uh, I'm finishing you properly this time!" Fists raised, Stan lunged at Bill.

Ford grabbed Stan from behind, one arm around his neck and one hooked up under his armpit. (Bill took the opportunity to scoot backward and get to his feet.) "Stanley! Stand down!"

"YOU!" Stan flung Ford's hands off and whirled around, pointing accusatorially at him. "You gave me your word! Tell me you didn't let Bill out."

"I didn't let Bill out."

Stan grabbed Ford's turtleneck. "Don't you lie to me!"

"I didn't let Bill out!" Ford ripped Stan's hands off his turtleneck. "He was already gone when I went into the kids' room."

"Then who— Who else would've known—"

Stan whirled around at a creak on the stairs. Dipper, halfway down the stairs, jumped when Stan saw him.

"DIPPER!" Stan stormed up to the stairs. "Did you help the demon escape?!"

"What, no!" Dipper took a step back up. "I don't even know how he got out! All I did was not say anything!"

"Well, who's left that could've helped him?!"

"BIIILL!" Mabel barreled down the stairs. "YOU CAME BACK!" She climbed on the stair railing, jumped off, and Bill—who'd crept inside behind Stan—was once more tackled to the ground.

Stan's hands twisted in the air like he wasn't sure whether he wanted to strangle someone, punch something, or pull out his own hair. He finally settled on curling them into fists and shaking them at God. "AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO DIDN'T KNOW THE DEMON'S ALIVE?!"

Soos, still sitting in the living room by himself, staring into space, voice hushed with horror, asked, "So who did I sweep into the flower vase..."

"Okay, family meeting!" Stan pointed at the living room, "Right now! You," he pointed at Bill, "upstairs! I don't wanna look at you and your—your stupid Las Vegas magician sequined coat!"

Bill sat up with a wince and grinned, "Oh, do you like it?" He took off his backpack and checked to see if its contents had been crushed when he was knocked down twice.

"You look like a circus clown!"

"I liked the Vegas magician thing better."

"GO!" Stan pointed up the stairs.

Bill raised his hands, rolling his eye as he started up the stairs. "Fine, fine—"

Stan grabbed Bill's wrist, making him drop his backpack. "STOP!"

"Make up your mind!"

Stan yanked one half of the enchanted friendship bracelets down over Bill's wrist. "You're not getting out again. Not on my watch."

Bill jerked his arm free, shot Stan a dirty look, and stomped up the stairs, umbrella clutched angrily in one hand and backpack in the other. Stan pulled the other half of the bracelet on.

In the living room, Ford, Dipper, and Mabel were lined up shamefacedly on the couch, like three students waiting to be lectured by the principal. Stan glowered at them each, fists on his hips. "Now, I wanna know why my own family all joined in some big secret conspiracy to help Cipher escape! Is it alien mind control?! Did you join a cult?!"

Mabel took a deep breath. "I saved him because he's my friend and I don't want him to die and he really is getting better and you'd all see it if you just gave him a chance to prove it and you just don't understand how he thinks like I do"—she took another breath—"and I promise he won't try to take over the world again just give him a chance!"

Stan's glare melted into something close to guilt. "You're... you're fine, pumpkin. I know you wouldn't have let your friend get hurt." He shot a glare at the other two conspirators. "Which is why we weren't going to tell her."

"Listen," Dipper said, "I still hate him and I don't trust him, but—but I heard part of a poem about Bill that I'm sure is a prophecy; which means he's important, we'll probably need him to save the town or something! So we can't let him die before then! He's already passed up chances to kill us and even saved Grunkle Ford and me, that proves he can restrain himself enough to be useful!" He winced, "Plus... I didn't wanna make Mabel sad. I have seen a future where she loses a friend, and it is not pretty."

Mabel leaned against Dipper. "Thanks, bro-bro."

Stan screwed up his face, but just muttered angrily under his breath about stupid prophecies and stupid life saving, and turned his glare on Ford. "Well? What's your excuse?"

Ford didn't answer, staring down at his hands, grimacing as he searched for an answer.

Stan pressed, "You told me that if you couldn't pull the trigger, you'd give me the gun. Why didn't you?"

"Because I could have pulled it! The situation was different, I—I only changed my mind because he wasn't there. If he had been, I'd have done it—"

"Would you? If you couldn't even tell me that he wasn't dead, do you really think that if he'd been right there, looking you in the eyes, you'd have done it?"

In his mind's eye, Ford could see Bill, hiding under a towel, grinning up at him with one bright eye. And Bill, collapsed beside the lake, shaking all over, sobbing so hard he didn't even notice he was clinging to Ford's stupid borrowed t-shirt like a lifeline. And Bill, staring tiredly across a chess board, telling Ford that the black king was taking the whole board down with him. And Bill, lighting up the room as he taught Ford's niece about his own long-extinct alien civilization.

And Bill, glowing golden, lighting up Ford's dream as he taught him about fifth-dimensional calculus.

Ford didn't answer.

Stan asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Softly, Ford said, "Because I don't want him to die."

Stan spread his arms in disbelief. "Well, why the hell not?!"

"Because—I'm—beginning to think that there might be a chance that Bill could..." he winced, "change. Maybe."

Stan's silence was deafening. Mabel leaned forward to stare around Dipper at Ford.

Ford rubbed his forehead. "I��it made sense yesterday, but it sounds stupid out loud."

Stan slowly shook his head. "Have you all lost your minds? You think he can change? You think he's part of some prophecy?! Y—Mabel, honey, you're the sweetest girl in the world, but you could do way better for friends than him."

Mabel sorta shrugged, sorta shook her head, sorta grimaced, and sorta nodded. "Yeah, but, I like him."

"WHY?!" Stan roared, making Mabel and Dipper both jump. "Why, why are any of you wasting your time on him?! Guys like him don't change! He's a dangerous, self-centered crook, and that's all he'll ever be. He's a rotten, greedy, lazy loser, he's only gotten as far as he has by conning guys smarter than him, he's got no regard for anybody but himself, all he does is cheat and lie, and if you let him stay in our lives he'll just ruin them! The best thing he could do for our family is—" Stan choked on a lump in his throat. "Is d-die."

The room was silent. Dipper and Mabel, leaning back into the sofa to get away from the rant, stared at him with wide eyes. Soos, over in an armchair bearing silent witness to this family drama, had his hands steepled in front of his face.

Stan couldn't look at Ford. He didn't know why Ford looked so sorrowful. Thickly, Stan asked, "All I want is to get rid of him—why don't you?"

He could hear Soos wince. "Oof."

Stan pointed at him. "Not a word. Not one word," he growled. "Fine—if none of you will deal with him properly," he cracked his knuckles, "I will."

Mabel flinched. Dipper moved to stand, "Grunkle Stan—" but stopped when Ford put a hand on his shoulder.

Stan stomped up the stairs. He'd wring that monster's stupid neck, and if it started the apocalypse then so be it—

He stopped halfway up the stairs. Bill was sitting on the steps, just around the landing corner, leaning against the wall, backpack in his lap. His soaked pant legs were dripping rainwater on the steps. "You," Stan snarled. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like, genius? I'm trying to eavesdrop," Bill said. "So what'd they say?"

"What? What did who say about what?"

"About leaving me alive. Why did they say they don't want me dead?"

He asked like he was genuinely curious. Like he didn't know.

Stan stared at Bill.

"I have a good idea for Shooting Star, but the other two...?" Bill made an uncertain gesture with his hand. "I've got my top guesses, but I want to know what clinched the deal."

Stan couldn't kill him, either.

He'd already lost this fight. Pathetic lonely dead con artist who'd rather lose a tooth than look scared, how could Stan take him out? He understood too well. "Just—shut your stupid mouth, take off that stupid circus outfit, and get out of my sight, Cipher."

Bill bristled. "Hey." He stood. "What's that for? It's not like I did anything wrong. Sure, I got your whole family in on a conspiracy, but that's their mistake! I was just doing what I had to! You can't blame me for—"

"I don't blame you," Stan said.

"You d— You don't." Cautiously, Bill asked, "You... don't?"

"How can I?" He shrugged heavily. "It was self-defense. Ford should've known better—but I can't blame you. I'm not an idiot, I don't expect you to just lay down and die for us."

"Oh." Bill squinted at Stan, like he thought this was a trick and he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Oh. Okay." After a pause, voice uncharacteristically small and confused, he asked, "So I'm... not in trouble?"

Stan's face did a gymnastics routine. "Heck," he muttered. "No! I guess not! I don't like it, but I'm not gonna punish a guy for saving his own miserable worthless hide! Just... stay out of my way, I don't wanna see your stupid face."

"I'm just minding my own business," Bill said. He sat again and leaned on the wall, arms crossed, staring into space thoughtfully. (He didn't know what to do with a reality where he'd done something everyone hated, but nobody blamed him for it.)

Stan trudged back downstairs. Everyone was where he'd left them. He glowered at his family. They quietly waited. "Well," Stan said. "We're stuck with him now. Since somebody wasted the only bit of fuel we had that could kill him. Is everyone happy."

Nobody seemed particularly happy. Ford shifted on his seat. "Kids... you should go to bed. Stan and I need to talk."

Dipper and Mabel quickly took the opportunity to slide off the sofa and escape the room.

"Oh! Oh you bet we need to talk! You have no idea how much we need to talk—"

"Downstairs," Ford said firmly.

"What, you don't want everyone else to hear exactly what I think of your crazy stunt?"

Ford lowered his voice. "Downstairs where he can't overhear. It's important."

Stan's face twitched with the effort of suppressing more shouting; but then he growled, "Fine! But this had better be worth it. Lemme get my bathrobe, your stupid underground office is like a freezer..." He trudged from the room, grumbling. "Hey, demon! Take off your bracelet, I'm done being tied to your sorry hide." After a moment, the thread reappeared on the stair steps as they both took their ends off.

Dipper glared at Bill as he and Mabel passed him going up the stairs. Bill gave him a tiny, cheery wave. Dipper grumbled, "I can't believe you finally escaped like you wanted just to come right back."

"Hey, it wasn't my idea! Blame your sister!"

Mabel hugged him again. "Thanks for coming back."

Bill said, "Thanks for absorbing Stan's wrath for me!" He laughed.

The kids ran upstairs.

And Bill placed the tip of his broken umbrella on the stair step and quietly walked back down, winding the enchanted bracelets' thread into loops as he went.

####

Soos looked at Ford and shyly raised a hand. "So... when you said the kids should go to bed, did that include..."

"Yes, Soos," Ford said. "You should go too."

"Yes." He quietly pumped a fist. "One of the kids." As he left, he said, "Hey, Bill. Sweet coat."

Ford looked over. Hovering in the shadows of the entryway, almost glowing gold from the living room's light, Bill peered into the room. He was by the coat rack, hanging the bracelets back up. Bill said, "Fancy meeting you here."

Ford sighed irritably. "I'm not in the mood to talk, Cipher."

"Don't flatter yourself, I'm not down here for you." Bill gestured at the sofa Ford was on. "I want my bed back."

Right. Ford stood so Bill could retrieve the cushions.

As he grabbed the first cushion, Bill smirked at Ford. "So..." (Not here for you. Sure.) "What was it that swayed you?"

Ford just glowered at Bill.

Bill pressed, "Was it that handy list of starter spells I gave you? I doubt it was my chess prowess, that wasn't my best playing." He laughed, "What am I asking for! You humans are suckers for a life debt. You can consider it paid off—a life for a life, fair and square—"

"It wasn't any of those."

Bill's smile disappeared. "Then what?" he asked. "Don't tell me you did it out of the goodness of your heart, I've seen enough of yours not to buy that—"

"It was Mabel."

Bill dropped his first cushion on top of the second and awkwardly tried to get his arms around both. "What'd she say about me?"

"Nothing." Nothing that had changed Ford's mind, anyway. "It's how you treat her."

"How I—?" Bill was so baffled that he almost looked offended. "What are you talking about? I haven't been treating her any way at all! I'm just... just goofing around with her. She's a fun kid."

"Exactly," Ford said. "If you can treat just one odd little girl with kindness, for no reason—then maybe, just maybe, there's hope for you." He sighed; he felt the sternness in his face slacken. He felt tired. "At least... I want to hope there is."

There was a flash of something Ford couldn't recognize in Bill's face. Something like pain; something nearly like guilt. It was gone almost as soon as he saw it.

"Well, sure," Bill said flatly, glancing away like Ford had lost his interest. "Why wouldn't I be nice to her? I like weird freaks." He managed to stand with his awkward armload and turned away, cutting the conversation off. "Anyway. It's been a long night. I'm going to bed. You should too," he shot back over his shoulder from the bottom of the stairs, "when's the last time you got decent sleep? Your eye bags are more... bag than... eye." Bill cringed at himself. "Don— Don't say anything. I'm tired." He headed up the stairs, his umbrella hooked over his left elbow. They'd have to get that umbrella back.

Tomorrow. Ford couldn't be bothered tonight. Bill wasn't killing anybody before morning.

Ford leaned on the doorframe where he could still see Bill. "I hid your hoodie in the box of spare bedding in the loft. Under the spare pillows."

Bill stopped halfway up the stairs and turned back toward Ford. "You didn't incinerate it?"

"No."

"Why?"

"I assumed you'd be back here eventually. I thought you'd want it."

Bill's face was unreadable.

He turned away from Ford and continued upstairs without saying a word.

Mabel's crayon drawing of Bill—"YOU CAN CHANGE. I BELIEVE IN YOU!"—felt like it was burning a hole in Ford's pocket.

####

Saturday, 7:52 a.m.

Bill stole a handful of loose change out of a tip jar and timed his exit so he walked out of the Triple Digit Truck Stop just as a man walked in and kindly held the door for him.

Gravity Falls really was a charming little town. Behind the times. The Triple Digit Truck Stop had expanded significantly in the past decades to add a convenience store and additional amenities for travelers, but the diner that made up the heart of it had barely changed. Same patchy grassy parking lot, same giant lumberjack sculpture watching over the cars... same public pay phones around the left side of the building.

He put in a few coins, punched in the number he'd memorized, and leaned against the wall while he waited to be answered. "Hey, Sue! Guess who?" A smile curled across his face. "That's right. Hey, how many people can say they've been personally called by god?" He laughed. "My Star Boy told you what preparations to make, right? Good. It's time. Midnight. Just north of the county line. I'll see you there."

Then he hung up the phone, left the clearing around the diner, and vanished into the trees.

Unless something dramatically changed, he'd be meeting his dear devotee that night.

####

9:30 p.m.

Something had dramatically changed.

His disloyal devotee had saved him.

It was a long walk to the county line. If Bill wanted to make his midnight meeting with his cultist, he had to leave before sunset.

He was still up on the cliff when the last of the light left the valley, pacing restlessly back and forth—first toward the side of the cliff overlooking the town (he could see the Mystery Shack's roof through the trees), then toward the side aimed away from the valley, toward the county line.

He should go. He needed to go. He needed to go now. He needed to go two hours ago.

He'd spent three out of the last four days hiking all over this town's forests and caves. In the last thirty-six hours he'd barely gotten a quick nap. (In the morning, when Mabel heard that Ford had covered for Bill, she'd come straight here.) He told himself he didn't have the energy for the hike to the county line. (What if Mabel got here and couldn't find him?)

If he didn't show up tonight, surely his cultist would try again tomorrow night. He'd go tomorrow.

It was fine. Everything would work out for him. Everything always worked out for him.

####

Sunday, 4:10 p.m.

He'd been right. Mabel had come straight here. As the platform lifted him back up, Bill watched her wheel her bike through the trees, slowly heading toward the main road back into town.

For a midsummer day, it was chilly in the rain.

Don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth? Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?

Interesting question.

####

8:30 p.m.

It was a long walk to the county line. Bill packed his supplies—he didn't have that much to pack, he'd only ever needed enough food and shelter to last him a couple of days. He flung one backpack over each shoulder, closed and concealed the alien ship fragment, and shrunk his floating platform with the height-altering flashlight so he could wrap it in a shirt and stuff it in his second backpack.

And then, under the cover of the rain and the falling night, he began the hike north.

####

10:45 p.m.

Even to Bill's eyes, the weirdness barrier around Gravity Falls was typically invisible. He could only see it where something touched it or passed through it, making waves travel out in circles from the point of contact. The circles glowed a dull coppery color at their peaks. Tonight, with the rain falling, the barrier rippled as though the rain were falling on the surface of a lake, and the whole thing glowed a faint filmy orange.

Precisely in the middle of the barrier was a sign marking the border of Roadkill County.

Ten feet beyond the barrier, just off the edge of the road, headlights and engine off and lurking beneath the trees, was a black car.

Bill walked straight through the weirdness barrier as though it wasn't even there. He didn't feel a thing.

The car engine started and the headlights turned on. Bill didn't even blink. The driver's door flew open and Sue popped out, fumbling to open an umbrella as she did. "Bill Cipher?"

"Hiya, Sue! You made it early."

"Oh, thank goodness." She hurried up to him. "I was so worried—I didn't know if I'd come to the wrong place, or if something had happened... And when I didn't hear anything from you the next day, and Gideon didn't know anything..." (Great, she'd gotten Gideon involved?) She started to offer Bill her umbrella, realized he was already holding a closed umbrella as a cane, looked up as she registered that no rain was falling on him, then stared at him in wonder.

"Yeah, sorry about that—an unavoidable emergency came up, I couldn't get out and couldn't call." And he'd gotten a pretty good night's sleep. "But look at you, loyal enough to come try again the next night! You're a rare sort of human soul, you know that? This world could use more people like you."

Sue flushed with pleasure. "Oh... thank you, I..."

Bill tilted his head toward the car. "Let's not talk out in the rain, huh? Another car's coming by in about a minute, I think we shouldn't be seen."

"Right! Of course, my lord." She hurried back to the car.

"There's a terrific diner just a few minutes up the road. We can talk there, it's safe enough. Cute decor, too—have you ever seen a twenty foot tall lumberjack...?" He paused uncertainly by the car. "Hey, Sue? This'll sound silly—but I'm gonna need you to get the passenger door."

The car's interior lights flashed on as Sue opened the passenger door, long enough to catch the glittery purple nail polish on Bill's fingers. Sue gave it a curious look. Even though they'd just gotten painted three days ago, the polish was already scuffed again from his escape; but a few tiny flower stickers were still sticking to his nails.

Bill grinned. "There's a thirteen-year-old staying in the shack. Sweetest thing. She's a real artist."

"Oh! I see." A smile stretched across Sue's face. Bill suspected it wasn't for Mabel. That's right, your god's good with children. He lets little girls give him goofy manicures and proudly shows them off. Chicks dig that kind of thing.

When they were both buckled in, Sue hesitated, holding the steering wheel. "Lord Cipher... I wanted to say... if my... actions the last time we met were out of line in any way, I want to apologize—"

Bill placed a finger under her chin, turned her face toward him, and kissed her lightly. (He was so smooth. He mentally congratulated himself.) "Sorry if you got confused. I had to keep the outsider from getting suspicious, get it?"

She sucked in a small breath. "I... yes. Yes, of course."

"Don't trust anything I say or do when unbelievers are listening. The only time you can be sure I'm telling the truth..." his voice dropped to a near whisper, "is when we're alone."

He could see the goosebumps raise on her arms. "Yes, my lord."

He was so good—and his worshipers were so, so stupid. That was why they followed him. "Now, let's get to that diner, huh?"

As they got on the road, he studied his nails; to a normal human it was too dark to see, but to Bill's eyes they still glittered bright purple. The question Mabel had asked him earlier had been playing over and over in his mind all afternoon: Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?

Naive, trusting kid.

She really thought she was his best option.

######

"... And then, as if directly launching a psychic attack on my ethereal essence and forcing me into a mortal fleshly form wasn't bad enough," Bill said, "they imprisoned me! And get this: just to rub salt in the wound, they thought it would be funny to take a divine muse who's spent an eternity helping mortals build doorways between dimensions—and curse it so it can't open doors. I have to ask my kidnappers to open the fridge for me. Have you ever heard something so condescending?"

"Insane. That's just sadistic," Sue said. "After all you tried to do for them."

"You don't know what a comfort it is to hear a human say that."

They fell silent as someone approached. A waitress stopped next to their table. "Hey, I—Goldie!"

"Dani Miranda! Hey, how's it going! I see you found the treasure map I left you."

Dani was wearing two large gold earrings, two heavy gold necklaces each with a large gem-encrusted pendant, and four rings. "Yes, oh my gosh. I cannot believe you knew where a whole treasure chest was and you just gave it to me? That's the nicest thing ever?"

That's right, it was. "What are you doing working here! You can retire on that kind of money. Unless you want to rebury all that gold yourself?" He'd respect that.

"I'm still getting it appraised. Besides, I like talking to the late night travelers."

Bill ordered a strawberry banana shake, the monthly pancake special—which meant three quarters of the pile covered in stripes of strawberry sauce and cream cheese frosting and one quarter covered in a big puddle of blueberry sauce—floppy bacon, three eggs prepared "any way except scrambled," a cup of bleu cheese dressing, a cup of salsa, and a bottle of hot sauce. Sue ordered a water and a small grilled chicken salad.

(Bill tried to remember whether the Death Valley girls were one of his "purify the flesh by practicing harsh asceticism" cults or his "hedonistically revel in the pleasures of the senses" cults, in case he needed to make up a justification for why god was ordering pancakes instead of practicing what he preached—something something a human body containing a divine soul burns through much more energy, maybe—but no, he had the Death Valley girls on psychedelics, that was a hedonism cult. He kept them controlled through drugs, exhaustion, and poor air conditioning, not starvation. Small grilled chicken salad, indeed. The only thing stronger than cult brainwashing was diet industry brainwashing.)

When Dani was safely out of earshot, Sue lowered her voice and asked, "'Goldie'?"

"My captors decided to keep my identity secret so an angry mob won't execute me before they get the chance," Bill said. "The entire town's against the All-Seeing Eye named Bill; but only a handful know there's anything unusual about the handsome human in the Mystery Shack they've been calling Goldie."

She looked taken aback at the angry mob comment. "The entire town's against you?" Her gaze roved around the Triple Digit Truck Stop, taking in a lone trucker several tables away and a bored waiter scrolling on his phone behind the counter. "Is there anyone we can trust?"

"Gideon's on our side, of course—good kid—but, well... he isn't completely reliable. You know what happens with child celebrities. The fame and fortune spoils 'em a bit."

"I never would have guessed from his television appearances. He seems so... gracious."

Bill choked back a laugh. "He'll grow up all right—he's just going through a phase. But I'd rather not trust him with more involvement than necessary until he... matures a little."

"I understand." Sue sighed. "It's too bad the dawn of the new age didn't begin closer to us, where we could have assisted your work."

She didn't have the guts to question her god, but Bill heard the implicit question: why here? Why in some tiny tourist town that didn't even like tourists, buried in a forest in the middle of nowhere, amongst the ignorant ungrateful masses? "Yeah—too bad," Bill agreed with a shrug. "But hey, I didn't choose where the veil between worlds would be thinnest! There's energy in this town like nowhere else on your planet. It's the only place where a machine built with modern human technology is strong enough to punch through dimensions—and that's with the help of extraterrestrial equipment."

Besides, he didn't like Death Valley.

Dani returned from the kitchen. "One chicken salad, and one breakfast combo with the pancakes of the month."

"Great! I'm starving." Bill picked up the little plastic cup of salsa and dumped it into his shake. Sue choked on her water.

Dani's brows shot up. "Is—is that good?"

"What can I say, I've got the palate of an alien." (Sue choked on the sip she'd taken to recover from her first sip of water.) Bill poured the bleu cheese over his eggs, then started drizzling hot sauce on his pancakes. "Anyway, it keeps people from stealing my food."

"I guess so!" Dani laughed. She hovered near their table a little too long; and then she said, "Okay, I've got to ask: how did you know where to find buried treasure? I mean...!"

"I know lots of things." He fought down a smirk. "I happen to be psychic."

"No way." But she looked curious. She wanted to believe.

Bill had had a hunch that giving her that treasure would pay off. Nice to know his understanding of human nature was still sharp, even when he couldn't double-check the far future to see how his meddling would turn out. "If I wasn't psychic, would I have known your last name? Or where that treasure chest was?" he asked. "Or that you keep three pictures of tarantulas and a Canadian twenty in your wallet? Or that you have recurring dreams of trying to hide in sewer manholes from a fire-breathing dragon?" While he waited for her to process that, he triumphantly dug into his pancakes. He had a feeling he wouldn't be eating much more before his food got cold.

Dani's smile had disappeared. The blood drained from her face. "How...?"

"I'm... let's say, connected to a higher plain. I can see dimensions most humans can't."

"It's true," Sue piped up. (Bill took the opportunity to dig into an egg. Oh, the bleu cheese was a great choice.) "The insights h—she's offered me and so many others have been... life-changing. World-changing." Good girl.

"Insights?" Dani asked weakly.

Bill shrugged modestly. "You could call me a 'spiritual teacher,' I suppose, but that makes it sound like I'm preaching some kind of religion! All I do is teach people what I know and tell people what I see if I think it'll help 'em. Like if I see a bunch of buried gold that could change the life of a nice kid working minimum wage."

Dani reflexively touched one of her necklaces.

"You didn't think going to parties in togas was my full-time job, did you?" Bill laughed.

Dani laughed feebly too. She hadn't moved away. She was closer now, her thigh leaning against the edge of the table. "That's... wow. I've never met an actual psychic before. I mean—I went to one of Lil Gideon's live shows, but that was before the big scandal and his arrest."

"You hate to see a pillar of the community go down like that, don't you?"

"What..." Dani swallowed hard, lowered her voice, and asked, "What kinds of things does a psychic 'teach'?"

Got her. "It depends! Everyone's got different lessons they need to learn, right?" He slid out of his seat, nodded toward Sue, and said, "Excuse me ladies—I'd love to elaborate, but I'm afraid I need to hit the restroom. Sue, why don't you tell her what you've learned about, give her a concrete idea of what I do."

"It would be my honor."

As Bill passed Sue, he leaned over and whispered, "Don't mention triangles." And then he got out of her way, to let Sue do what his Death Valley girls did best.

####

When he returned to his seat, Sue leaned over the table and murmured, "I got her phone number and email."

"Good work. I bet she'd be an easy recruit."

"I bet. She's already asking how much lessons cost."

"What'd you say?"

"You offer your help to others for free, but cover your living expenses and travel costs with donations."

"Attagirl." It had been easier to use that line when he was a triangle—of course our great mentor and muse doesn't need money, he's above such earthly concerns; his mortal devotees who spread his word, though, subsist on donations... It was better for his image. They'd just have to modify their fundraising pitch for a while. "This is exactly what I hoped would happen when I invited you to this diner. I knew you wouldn't let me down."

The ghost of a smile flitted across Sue's face. "I'll follow up with her by phone. It's a pity we don't have enough time to really put the pressure on her in person."

"Why not? I bet we'd win her over in less than a week."

"I've already contacted the main compound in Death Valley. We've got plane tickets for first thing in the morning."

(Bill's blood ran cold. Somehow, it hadn't dawned on him until that moment that escaping Gravity Falls meant leaving Gravity Falls.)

"I have a motel room a few towns over, it was the closest I could find to Gravity Falls," Sue went on. "It's a straight shot to the Portland airport in the morning. Everyone's so excited—"

"Hold on," Bill said, figuring out what he was about to say next as he went. "There's been a last minute change of plans. I'm staying in Gravity Falls."

Sue stared at him. "But—my lord! You're a prisoner here, why wouldn't you come home to the people who love you?"

Love you, love you, love you. The word love alone was nearly enough to make him change his mind again. How he missed being revered. He could picture them now, these zealots who adored him so much they'd willingly bend their bodies into a throne to lift him up—and he didn't even need to turn them to stone first. It would be so easy to get away from all his human enemies forever...

Don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth?

He shook his head. "Two reasons," he said. "One: no matter what, eventually I'll have to come back. The Age of the Triangle can only dawn in Gravity Falls. Staying makes it that much easier to get things started again. And two... I'm—working on a couple of potential recruits." He was? Wow. He was impressed at himself.

"You mean Gideon, or...?"

"No, others. One's the girl who helped me escape." He drummed his fingers on the table, calling attention to his purple fingernails. "She's a good kid. Lots of potential. Could be a real leader someday—she's a natural fit for our new world. She's got a few strings, but I'm working on helping her untie 'em."

Strings was a term that Mary, the leader of the Death Valley compound, had come up with and spread to the other girls: it meant petty mortal concerns that could tangle and tie you up, dragging you away from pursuing true spiritual growth and preparing for a better, liberated world. Your childhood religious beliefs were a string. The misguided ideas about morality you learned from the secular world were a string. Your job was a string. Your spouse was a string. Your family was a lot of strings. The intervention where your friends sat you down and told you they were worried about how much you'd changed lately and they were afraid you'd joined some kind of cult was a string. You had to cut them all.

And then Bill could tie on his puppet strings in their place.

"How old is she?"

"Thirteen. Fourteen at the end of the summer."

"Oh, wow—younger than I thought. That's great, kids are more open-minded," Sue said. "Though if she decides to join, it'll be hard to get her away from her family without a kidnapping charge..."

"Ugh, you don't need to remind me. I remember how we almost lost Karen and Jennifer. The legal system in this country is a mess." Bill had needed to torture that divorce court judge with nightmares for weeks before he caved and awarded Jennifer's mother sole custody so they could move to the Death Valley compound together. "But hey, got some good news: the other potential recruit. You remember the 'ex-cultist' who gave you gals my location. He turned on the humans who are pushing to execute me. He's almost back on our side. And he just so happens to be the girl's great-uncle. The family trusts him. If we can get 'em to pass her to him as her guardian, then she's ours. We can work out how to get her to the compound later." That was a lie. Bill was never handing Mabel to the Death Valley girls. She was better than them.

Sue looked less enthusiastic for this ex-cultist than she had for the girl. "Is he one of your captors...?"

Bill waved off her concerns, frowning. "Look. He's obviously been corrupted by the outside world. I lost contact with him for thirty years and he came back with more strings than a mop head. But I don't think he's beyond purification. He's already shown major improvement, now that he's once again under the shining light of my influence."

"But, this town..." Sue shook her head doubtfully. "Cipher, my lord, they nearly killed you once. You'd risk staying just to try to recruit two people? One who's already betrayed you—?"

"Yes!" Bill snapped. Sue flinched. "They're worth it." (He didn't question his own vehemence, his own anger at their value being doubted. He rarely questioned himself. If he asked questions, he might get answers.) "Don't you dare let this face fool you—I'm still your all-seeing god and I know what I'm doing better than you do. These two are perfect. The Age of the Triangle needs them. The traitor will repent. He WILL worship me again."

Sue stared at him with wide eyes; for a split second her breath froze in fear. She gave him a tiny nod. "Of course, my lord. My apologies."

Dani appeared at their table again. "Hey, how was everything?"

And Bill was immediately all good cheer. "Terrific, thanks!"

"Great!"

As Sue reached for her wallet, Dani waved her off. "Oh, don't worry about it—it's on the house." She winked. "I think I can afford to cover it."

Already making donations to the cause. Pretty soon all the profits from her treasure chest would be in one of Bill's bank accounts.

As they headed back out into the rain, Sue said, "So, we're staying in town at least long enough to pick up another three recruits?"

"Maybe four," Bill said. "There's another kid in town I think needs some help finding a direction."

"Another? Is this one old enough to leave home alone?"

"Not for a couple more years—but she's dying to get out just as fast as she can," Bill said. "I think you can handle her."

####

They parked just up the road from the Mystery Shack and turned the headlights off.

"Here's everything Gideon said you wanted," Sue said, handing over a paper bag. "Candles, matchbook, knife, pens, spare notebooks, five thousand dollars, a burner phone, new clothes..."

Bill pulled out a flashy golden sequin-covered coat. "Oooh!" He dug around until he also found a button-up shirt and a pair of black opera gloves. He shrugged on the shirt.

"That's... what Gideon said you requested, right?" Sue eyed the tacky, gaudy coat uncertainly.

"As long as I'm in this body, I don't have the benefit of showing up glowing in people's dreams when I have something they need to hear! I need to make them pay attention any way I can." Also, normal people had boring tastes and sequins were fantastic. He buttoned up the shirt.

"I also brought—I—thought you might want..." She held out a large pendant on a thin chain. It was an eye inscribed inside a triangle inscribed inside a circle; rays radiated out from the eye, as though it were the sun. Bill's heart leaped into his throat at the sight of it.

He realized this was the first time since his death that he'd seen his own face in any form other than a thirteen-year-old's artwork—and his own corpse. His face was ubiquitous on this planet; it was plastered on everything from money to buildings to common consumer goods. Its conspicuous absence in Gravity Falls was uncanny.

"I'm not sure if it's inappropriate—"

"It's perfect." Bill snatched the necklace from her and fiddled with the clasp until he got it on. "Exactly what I need. What did I always say about your intuition?" He considered the gloves, decided he wasn't ready to pull them on quite yet, and shrugged on the coat instead.

She restrained a pleased smile at the flattery. "Thank you, my lord."

She looked out the windshield. Just up the road was a flock of wooden signs and arrows pointing which way to turn to reach the Mystery Shack. Bill wondered whether Sue's eyes had adjusted enough to the dark that she could see their silhouettes. Sue said, "If you're not coming back to us yet, then I suppose it's time to..."

"Hold on a minute," Bill said. "You've been a bigger help tonight than you know. If it weren't for your loyalty and diligence, I wouldn't have been able to consider escaping." Blah blah blah. The truth was he'd been soaking in her reverence for the past hour and a half, like a dehydrated cactus under a cloudburst, and he wasn't leaving until he'd sucked every drop from her. "There isn't a lot I can do for you right now, trapped in this form, but you deserve a reward." He leaned toward her, his elbow against her car seat, hand on the headrest. "Let me express my gratitude the way I would have if we hadn't been interrupted during our last meeting." He tilted his head toward the back seat.

She froze as she processed the offer; and then she leaned in to kiss him hungrily.

####

"The tide's changing in this town," Bill said, pulling on his gloves, smoothing his hair back into place, putting his new coat back on. "The dawn is coming. You should stay in town now that our enemies are losing their teeth."

"Yes, Lord Cipher," she said breathlessly, still trying to get her wits about her.

(From what Bill had eavesdropped between her and Dani while he was pretending to be in the restroom, he was right that she'd been one of his "dissatisfied housewife" converts. This was probably the first time she'd ever been touched by somebody who understood anatomy. Unfortunately, she didn't know how to return the favor. But he'd been touched by reverent hands, he'd tasted tears, he'd heard a voice whine "Bill, my god, my god, my god—" That would have to hold him for a while.)

"And ditch the rental. Buy a used car," Bill said. "There's a place in town called Gleeful Auto Sales. Ask Bud for the best car on the lot, pay whatever he asks—and tell him Mr. Locke sent you."

"'Gleeful' as in...?"

"His father. My Star Boy was the only person in town who supported me—and the town's turned on his family for it. They could use our help."

Sue pursed her lips in displeasure. "Of course."

Bill gestured toward his door. "I think we've put this off long enough."

While he waited for her to get his door, he slung his two backpacks over each shoulder. Under his breath, he muttered, "'Coffee break's over; back on your heads.'"

Sue opened the door; he picked up his umbrella and stepped out into the rain.

As he walked back to his prison, he tucked his necklace beneath his shirt.

Bill reminded himself that he didn't have anything to be afraid of. Ford had thrown away the one shot that could have killed him. He was safe.

####

1:20 a.m.

As Stan followed Ford into his underground study, he shot a glance at the barren far end of the room. He grumbled, "Nice to see you haven't started putting triangle posters back up."

"I'm not..." Ford sighed in irritation. "Never mind."

"So what's so important that you had to drag me down to your nerd cave? If this isn't good—"

"I didn't waste our shot."

"What?"

At his metal worktable, Ford unlatched the Quantum Destabilizer's carrying case and opened it. "You said I wasted the only fuel we had. I didn't." He detached the NowUSeeitNowUDontium's fuel tank and held it out. The needle on the side indicated it was about a quarter full—nowhere near its full capacity, but enough for one shot, and just as much as they'd brought home from Fiddleford's.

Stan gaped. "But... hold on—we saw that shot through the walls. How the heck did you fake...?"

"Before he started developing a process to generate Dontium, Fiddleford came up with a power adaptor that could plug into the town's electricity." Ford picked up the power cord wound up in the carrying case. "He determined that it only gave the Destabilizer enough power to operate like a laser, not destroy matter and energy, so we still needed to develop the Dontium... but, I still had the cord on hand."

####

Saturday, 12:07 p.m.

Ford looked at the dummy. Looked at the note.

And then he lay the note on the dummy, knelt by the edge of the loft, opened his case, and removed the Quantum Destabilizer.

He slid out its fuel tank, returned it to the case, and pulled out the cord.

He climbed down to the bedroom; unplugged the room's air conditioning unit from its dedicated higher voltage wall socket; and plugged in the Quantum Destabilizer's cord.

In the loft, trying to figure out how to plug the other end of the cord into the Quantum Destabilizer, he was suddenly struck by the hair-raising feeling that someone was watching him. He whipped around; the eye on Bill's hood stared at him resentfully.

Ford stared back at it a moment; then he stood, pulled the hoodie off the dummy, and stuffed it into a nearby box.

He knelt. He plugged in the cable. He carefully lined up the shot with the dummy.

He fired.

####

12:09 p.m.

The atmosphere abruptly grew eerily quiet and still as the unplugged air conditioning unit fell silent. There was a shrill, whistling shriek and a blast of blue-white light so brilliant it pierced the cracks of the wooden boards in the attic bedroom's walls.

Every light in the house went out as the Quantum Destabilizer's power adapter drained every drop of electricity in town.

####

12:10 p.m.

The air was hot, stagnant, and stuffy. There was a pile of ashes three feet in front of Ford's knees.

Ford heard Dipper and Stan come into the bedroom and climb the ladder. He was seized by an urge to sweep away the ashes and the evidence of his trick before they could realize what he'd done:

The Quantum Destabilizer, at full power, completely destroyed all matter and energy.

It didn't leave behind ashes.

####

Monday, 1:23 a.m.

Ford said, "Bill left a letter in the attic asking me to help cover his getaway. If I didn't fire the gun, Bill would have known I'd told you he escaped. But if he could see the Quantum Destabilizer firing, he'd think I'd chosen his side. The only way to lure him back to the shack was by making him think I'd used up the only substance we have that could destroy him." He muttered, "Granted, I'd assumed he'd try to contact me secretly rather than knock on the door in the middle of the night, but..."

Stan gaped at Ford. Then he burst into loud laughter. "Sixer, you tricky sonova! I don't believe it!" He socked his arm. "I oughta retire from the conning business and hand it over to you!"

A smile slowly crept up Ford's face.

Stan pointed with his thumb over his shoulder at the elevator. "So we can go up there and finish him off now, right? Just wait for him to fall asleep, and...?"

Ford's smile disappeared. "No."

"N—What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I..." He took a deep breath as he chose his words. "I was serious, earlier, when I... said I want to give him a chance."

"Wh—? Still? Ford, come on, you can't think he deserves it?"

"No. Of course not. Not even close." Ford didn't hesitate. "But... does he need to deserve a chance to get one? I wonder if maybe Mabel's on to something. If he could be better, he can't show us unless we give him the second chance—before he's earned it." He sounded like a lunatic. "He can't earn it if he's dead."

Stan looked for a moment like he wanted to argue; and then something painful flashed through his eyes; and then he looked away from Ford, scowling to himself as he thought. He sighed heavily. "Yeah. Okay. Fine. Darn it, I don't wanna do it either. The creep's actually starting to grow on me. Like some kind of foot fungus."

Ford huffed. "What's important is, if we give him a chance and he throws it away, I haven't left us unarmed." He gestured to the unplugged fuel tank.

Stan looked at the tank; then looked at Ford. "You could've told us about the power cord trick yesterday, and you didn't." Stan crossed his arms. "Be honest. Do you really think, if it came down to it, you'd be able to pull the trigger now?"

"No." And again Ford didn't hesitate. "I want to believe I could; but I... don't trust myself. Yesterday morning, I never would have thought I'd decide against executing him for any reason. I know Bill's playing games with me, and yet I'm still playing along—so what else might I do?" He shrugged helplessly. He hated that Bill could still take control of his mind—even when he couldn't physically get inside it. "To some extent, he's gotten into all our heads."

Stan grimaced, but he didn't argue.

"That's why I think Fiddleford should keep the Quantum Destabilizer. He's never been taken in by Bill's tricks. If it becomes necessary, he won't hesitate."

"You know the situation's bad when Old Man McGucket's the voice of reason," Stan muttered. "But, I like that idea. We can drop it off with him in the morning."

Ford sighed. "He's probably spent the last two days thinking Bill's dead. He won't be happy to see us."

As they walked back to the elevator, Stan said, "Maybe leaving Bill alive isn't an end-of-the-world bad idea. How much trouble can he get in when he can't escape that magic barrier around town?"

"That's true," Ford said. "He's essentially harmless—at least to the rest of the universe."

Ford didn't have anything to be afraid of. Bill was trapped in the weirdness barrier; and he couldn't even leave the shack without help. They were safe.

####

As fancy as his new coat looked, Bill was was grateful to crawl back into the comfortingly formless body-obscuring shelter of his hoodie. He pulled his hood over his face, curled up on his usual cushions (sigh) in his usual spot (sigh), and quickly fell asleep.

And began to dream.

And, in his dream, saw through his nearby eyes.

In his sleep, he could see the attic from where he lay on his cushions. He sat up, realized his vision was crooked, straightened out his hood, and stood; and he began sleepwalking.

He crept silently downstairs. He walked backwards into the gift shop. He walked up to a spinning rack of keychains that Soos had set up on the display case, took off his necklace, and hung it from one of the hooks.

He pulled aside the curtain hiding the ladder to the roof.

Bill was very good at lying. Bill was very good at lying to himself. No, that wasn't true—Bill had never lied to himself in his life, and he was willing to kill anyone who tried to say he had. Bill didn't tell himself lies; he told himself what should be the truth. Believing in a new reality was the first step toward making it real. All you had to do was lie until you weren't lying anymore—and then, you'd never lied at all. It was very simple.

He'd spent billions of years swimming in and out of dreams, until he was more comfortable with how reality worked in dreams than he was with how reality worked in actual reality; and there was no other state of existence where the line between truth and lie was blurriest. Unlike the physical world, where altering reality tended to require a little more actual work, in a dream, lying until it came true really was as simple as thinking about your new truth.

That was all it took. One bright, lucid thought to shine order through the confused fog of the subconscious.

Bill was getting good at lucid dreaming.

Bill was dreaming now.

A couple of weeks ago, Bill had heard Wendy called the trap doors in the ceiling "roof lids."

No, that wasn't true. A couple of weeks ago, Bill had heard Wendy call the roof lids "roof lids," because that was what they were. Bill couldn't open doors, didn't have the first idea of what to do with a door, but he could open lids. Jar lids. Pot lids. Toilet lids. He'd practiced with toilet lids—they had hinges, that made them the most similar to roof lids. If he could open all those lids, he could open these lids.

As he stared, the trap doors changed, in the way that dream images had of swimming and shifting dizzily before your eyes, into roof lids.

He climbed the ladder, pushed up the roof lid, climbed through; and then opened the second one that led onto the roof. He moved so silently. The rickety rungs and old wooden boards didn't even creak beneath his footsteps. He climbed out, sleepwalked his way to the roof hangout spot, and jumped off the roof.

He descended, slow as a feather, to land lightly on the ground, as though gravity hardly touched him.

Almost a month ago, on his birthday, Stan had taken off his gold chain and chucked it off into the forest so he could put on his birthday gift instead. Bill had watched enviously from the window. Now, triumphantly, he scooped up the long-coveted chain and wrapped it several times around his wrist.

And then he went to the tree where he'd hung up his second backpack full of contraband and retrieved it.

There were several pine trees right next to the shack. As near-weightless as Bill was in his dream, it was easy for him to climb one of the trees and get back on the roof.

In the gift shop, the vending machine swung open as Stan and Ford returned to the house level. They went into the living room, heading toward bed. The All-Seeing Eye hanging on the keychain rack watched as the door swung shut behind them. After waiting a few more seconds to ensure they were gone, Bill slid down onto the ladder, shut the roof lid, and jumped noiselessly to the floor. He retrieved his necklace from the keychain rack.

This was a vending machine. It wasn't a door. It clearly wasn't a door. Bill punched in the vending machine's code and stepped back as it swung aside for him. He crept down the stairs.

This was an elevator. The elevator had doors, and he didn't know how to open them, but he wasn't worrying about those. The doors would sort themselves out somehow. All he cared about was the elevator. He was NOT trying to open the doors. He wasn't even thinking about opening the doors. He pushed the button to call the elevator.

The elevator doors slid open. See, just like he'd thought: the doors took care of themselves.

He pushed the button for the lowest floor. The doors slid shut.

As he rode down, he wove his new necklace's thin chain between the links of Stan's much thicker chain. Oh yeah. That looked much better.

The doors opened again into the interdimensional portal's control room.

He put on his necklace and stepped out. It was about time he made it back here. Bill really should have taken more time to check this place out at the start of summer. Why had he been in such a rush to kill the Pines? He'd had time travel. He could have rebuilt the entire portal by himself, won the lotto in Texas, spent a week in a seven star hotel, watched the Titanic sink, become President Trembley's First Lady, gotten Mysterious Mo's autograph, planted a NASA rocket in an Aztec temple just to give those ancient alien morons an undeserved but funny win, and then come back to finish the job.

Well, hindsight, whatever. At least he had a list of things to do if he ever got his hands on that time tape again. Anyway, he was back now.

He didn't think he'd need to be asleep to get back into the gift shop, and he probably needed his full brain turned on for the task ahead. He pulled his hood off, opened his eyes, and woke up.

The world looked so much less malleable.

He fished a notebook and red and black pens from his backpack, picked his way through the rubble of the portal, and began taking notes in Plaintext on how many parts were salvageable. Every few minutes, he flipped a page forward to begin work on blueprints for a new portal.

####

(And that concludes... season 1. idk out of how many seasons, but it sure feels like a season finale, don't it?

Next week's The Book Of Bill y'all! I'll be posting a chapter, but which chapter depends on TBOB. If TBOB is either compatible with the backstory I've got for Bill, or so wildly incompatible that there's no way I can reconcile my backstory so don't bother trying, I'll be posting a flashback chapter! But if TBOB is compatible enough that i MIGHT be able to reconcile it with my backstory with a lot of editing, I'll be posting the first chapter of "season 2" to give me time to edit the flashback. We'll find out next Tuesday!

In the meantime, a whole lot happened in this chapter, and I can't wait to hear what y'all think—about this chapter, about everything that's happened so far, about what's coming up, whatever!)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle ford #grunkle stan #mabel pines #dipper pines #soos ramirez #(tagged mostly for the art but like they're in the chapter too lmao)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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haleswallows · 1 month ago

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I’ve Been the Forest and the Fire (and the Witness Watching It) DC x DP Dead on Main (Jason Todd/Danny Fenton) Teen Soulmates AU

Chapter 2!

Teaser:

"This is bullshit."

His soulmate turns around at the sound of his voice. Freezes. He looks tired and scrungly and of course. Because the universe hates Jason, so of course the asshole is also in the class he's taking for his Maths Gen-Ed credit.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jason stands over him. "Aren't you supposed to be really good at math, or something? Why are you in an intro level class?"

His eyes are huge. "I don't test well and did bad on the placement exam."

"Great," Jason seethes. A twisting in his gut makes him feel like he's about to throw up. The soul bond demands proximity with his 'other half'. Chronically contrarian, Jason fights the instinct and the rising nausea before giving in. He slides into the desk next to his soulmate. The discomfort immediately eases. "Fucking fantastic."

There's attempts at a conversation. Jason ignores it in favor of getting himself settled. Pulls a copy of the list of accommodations he'll need that the Student Affairs Office helped him put together. Subtly scopes the room - for exits, and the best desk for when he brings Ace.

Ignores the put-out expression, the longing looks coming from his right.

Thankfully, the professor focuses on reviewing the syllabus only. And assigns a set of problems. What sort of jerk assigns homework on the first day?

Students scramble for the exit as soon as the dismissal comes. Asshole looks like he has something to say, but Jason just… he can't. Refuses. Before he gets subjected to what the fuck ever the asshole thinks he needs to say, Jason snags the professor.

He's vaguely aware of his soulmate lingering, and then eventually leaving. His gut clenches and his hands shake.

•○●○•

Jason stops in his tracks. The asshole looks at him. Jason glares back.

He's in Jason's literature course too.

"Whoa, 'scuse me," another student mumbles, side-stepping around Jason and his cane where he's standing stock-still in the doorway. Fuck.

OK. Fine. He has two classes with the piece of shit. Jason's dealt with worse.

He doesn't sit next to him, finding a seat in the second row and near the door. It's strategic. Less walking, a better view of the board. There'll be more room in the aisle for Ace when he starts bringing him. Jason stakes his claim - this'll be his desk for the semester.

The asshole can sit in the back like a delinquent. Jason doesn't care. He can't see him from here anyway.

The professor - mid-30s, bearded, Southern accent - makes them do an ice-breaker game. Jason wants to die.

Professor 'Just call me Justin' holds up a bag of Jolly Ranchers, directs them to take one and pass the bag down the line. Jason fiddles with the wrapper of his 'cherry' (it doesn't taste like cherry, he can't be convinced otherwise) while the bag makes its journey, and Justin makes an odd list on the board.

Grape for a favorite poem, Blue Raspberry for a pet's name, Lime for best vacation, Watermelon for 'what you wanted to be when you grew up', and Cherry for favorite food.

"Alright, everyone got a candy?" Justin claps the chalk dust from his hands. "Great, I'll start. I'm Justin," the class titters. Yes, they know. "Lime! So, I taught English in Japan for four years. My favorite vacation was to some traditional hot springs in Osaka. Next…. you!"

The random student pointed to blushes. "Oh! Uh, Karmine. Blue, my family's dog is named Cesar."

"Hi, Karmine! Pick your victim."

She shrinks a little, points randomly. It goes on like that - name, flavor, stupid random fact. It's dumb. There's cringing and some laughs at the stupid pet names. Then someone - Samir, Jason now knows - points to him.

As if he isn't a local celebrity that's had his photo in every newspaper multiple times since he was 12. And that tabloids theorize about his relationship with Bruce, or why Bruce is 'ashamed of him' as a cripple.

"Jason, chili dogs from Dave's stand." In between the pitying looks, a few nod knowingly. Locals, then. He ignores the smattering of whispers, no doubt picking up on theory crafting about him where Vicki Vale left off.

He taps the desk of the guy next to him. And away it goes, another name, flavor, and answer.

Jason's tapped out, vaguely listening but mostly only keeping track of who hasn't gone. It's background noise, all he wants is to talk to the professor and go the fuck home. When —.

"Danny. Uh, watermelon. I wanted to be an astronaut." The asshole smiles shyly, then ducks his head and rubs the back of his head.

Gross. Jason knows his name now. He frowns and the asshole — Danny — sees it, the smile dropping off his face.

Gross. He turns forward, Danny pointing to one of the few remaining people. It's hard to breathe and the wrapper of the Jolly Rancher is sticky when he unwraps it. Pops it in it his mouth.

Gross. Fake cherry.

#dead on main #dcxdp fic #dcxdp #my writing #soulmates au #ongoing #Pain on main

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ryttu3k · 7 months ago

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Thoughts on Doctor Who - Boom! Some negativity ahead, maybe a 6/10 overall.

Well that was about as subtle as a sledgehammer XD Yes yes the algorithm is bad, yes yes capitalism is bad, yes yes war industry is bad, yes yes religious extremism is bad. I agree with all that! And tbh there are people who do need that message to be about as subtle as a sledgehammer because they Do Not Get It!

But holy shit, this one made Orphan-55 look subtle XD

(That said, kind of adore the chutzpah of doing the Capitalism Is Bad story in the first season of the show as owned by fucking Disney.)

A… weird aesop at the end. "Blind faith is bad. Also, just because I don't like it, doesn't mean I don't need it, because apparently I need religious people to tell me what to do."

Splice was… odd. Grew up in a warzone, also launches herself into said warzone because Dad sent a weird message. Seems singularly unable to recognise what had happened despite, y'know, growing up in a warzone, but that's okay because Holodaddy mentioned seeing antelopes. I feel she was written to be much younger (like, five-ish), which is an issue with the casting, actually, because as it is she just kind of came across as dense as a sack of bricks. No, stupid child, you do not run into the minefield! I did see commentary about how chilling it was for her to be so easily placated by the AI, though, so that could be a deliberate choice, I guess?

Mundy is okay. Didn't make me go, "Yes, she absolutely needs to be the new companion!", which is a pity, and the whole romantic tension between her and the other dude felt whoppingly out of place. Yes, half the planet is going to blow up but that's okay, her crush likes her back! Hoping that either she's playing someone totally different as companion (like Freema Agyeman and Karen Gillan having smaller roles before being cast as companions, to say nothing of some of the actual Doctors!), or that Mundy actually develops some personality beyond 'romantic yearning', 'Christianity', and 'portents of doom'. That said, if she is playing Mundy again, I do enjoy the idea of Mundy Sunday XD

Last annoyance, promise - lmao god if Moffat's head was any further up his arse he'd be a mobius strip. Villengard (although setting the episode in the 51st century is at least consistent with its destruction), the Anglican Marines, preservation of dead people in incomplete digital formats, the president's wife poem/song thing, even fish fingers and custard. Dude. I know. You're still salty about being replaced as showrunner. Doesn't mean you have to yell about how great your era was by throwing in every single self-congratulatory reference you could think of XD

(That said: I much prefer him writing standalone/double episodes. Do Not let him write arcs or be showrunners, but he certainly can work a single narrative.)

Positive notes: Even if it was as subtle as a sledgehammer, I did enjoy the reveal - that there wasn't actually any war, and it was entirely a self-perpetuated conflict based on algorithm and profit. Like the writing could have handled it better, but the premise was really cool.

Ncuti Gatwa's acting was fantastic. Beautiful tension and stress. Loved him monologuing to Ruby's dead body because if he doesn't talk, he can't think right.

"I'm more explosive than I look - and honey, I know how I look."

"Ruby, I forbid this." "Yeah, good luck with that :)"

"- and frankly, your lifespan sucks." (Just wanted Ruby to go, "Dude. I've been dead for the last ten minutes.")

Continuity

Enjoying the continuation of Ruby's snow.

Susan Twist has appeared again, although I still have no idea what this could be building up to. Much bigger role than some of the earlier ones.

This is Ruby's first alien planet, but The Devil's Chord implies she's been travelling with the Doctor for six months? So this would have to be set before Devil's Chord, or else they've just spent six months in space stations and time travelling on Earth alone.

A lot of emphasis on the Doctor as a father, tying in with his mention of Susan last episode, which also dealt with the familial connection between the Toymaker and Maestro and the whole Pantheon thing, and brought up the stuff with Ruby and her lineage again (the AI glitching out when trying to work out her next of kin, although I feel Moffat forgot that… next of kin doesn't mean 'blood relative'… she has a Mum!). I feel there's definitely going to be something about the Doctor's family in this season as well as Ruby's. The TARDIS identified her as human, but could there be a connection?

Season ranking

As of s40e03:

The Devil's Chord

The Church on Ruby Road

Space Babies

Boom

And on a deeply silly note: I initially heard 'Kastarion' as 'Karstarion' and went :D because BG3 ship mentioned <3

#doctor who #dw spoilers

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lautity · 10 days ago

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they are so intertwined.....no one will ever understand them. not even each other. ESPECIALLY not each other......worst luck Ever to fall in love with a girl who is your direct opposite but also the exact same person......and you can never truly love her the way you want or think she deserves but also it is irrelevant what you think because she looks at you like you're her whole world and You Are. and she is yours. and even if you know it is slowly killing you both she will always be there. even when she's not. the absence of something is also its presence. and one night she's sitting on your windowsill smoking and looking out at the streets and you teasingly say "you know that'll kill you" and she looks back at you and says "so will this, though. so will you" but there's no trace of anger or any indication that she wants it any other way.

i didn't say their name but you thought about them didn't you

they sicken me. the thing killing you is also the only thing keeping you alive in a sort of twisted mutual parasitism. i keep thinking about how they feed into each other's worst traits...... steph is an endless void to be filled with attention and lex is kind of drunk on the feeling of being needed + in control. i need them both dead

okay i got extremely off topic just talking about why they're even together. sorry

lex cant stand most people, because most people are painfully stupid. initially, lex likes her because she's cynical. she isn't an idiot, she doesn't sugar-coat shit, she's anti-authority to a fault. lex was basically born an anarchist, obviously she thinks its hot based when the mayor's daughter commits crimes.

steph thinks they're cool. they live in the grunge-punk scene she's always yearned for (from the comfort of her 4-bedroom home). they play music and smoke weed and don't care what anyone thinks. steph cares too much, all the time, so this is quite impressive.

and getting attention from lex is like drawing blood from a stone. it's so rare and so valuable and steph is very quickly hooked on it. half-smiles and smirks and shotgun kisses and their approval after a smooth shoplifting run. it makes her feel special.

i think steph's. consistency? devotion? is a big appeal for lex. she's just there, all the time, she's down to go anywhere or do anything lex wants, just to be around her. nobody has ever been there for her. and steph doesn't leave when things get hard, despite her background. lex appreciates the commitment, even if she thinks it's stupid. she doesn't know what she's done to deserve it. a Lot of people have failed them. like. basically everyone they've ever met. but they know steph is unconditionally reliable*. maybe lex even feels a little safe around her. maybe. i think this trust persists after they break up (and get back together, and break up, ad nauseam), because steph is truly incapable of moving on from anyone, ever. steph won't let her die. steph will bail her out, steph will protect her, steph will find her next hit, steph will drag her out of hell over and over. the love of a dog for her master is notorious, even in the agony of death. * unconditionally reliable... for lex. your mileage may vary.

i Do think they have to sort of confront how toxic this is, after a major fight. probably a physical fight. probably a physical fight that awakens some feelings about violence. conveniently, they have found a fantastic outlet for all this frustration lex has. it sates steph's desire to be useful and to constantly be giving (because it doesn't feel like love if she isn't tearing herself to pieces). the worse lex treats her, the clingier she gets. it's fascinating.

sigh. sorry. i am actually insane about the levels of fucked up they could achieve though. intentionally triggering your partner.... steph has been known to goad lex to anger (because it's hot). lex may have once or twice accidentally-on-purpose caused steph to split, just. to see. things they're both aware of but not discussing. an open secret. because neither of them really mind. even though it hurts

#hey jules why does every ask you answer have a readmore. well‚#hiii guide (writes a 500 word response to your ask that is almost certainly not related to what you said)#god. i have so many things to say about them. the awful dynamic ever #aspd lex + histrionic borderline steph. vaguely. if you even care #the love of a dog thing is a darwin quote paraphrased #as always if im being insane you can shoot me. heart #burnerphone #asks #scraps #i feel like im going to need to tag for allusions to bdsm. at some point #suggestive #for that. i guess

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irithylldancer · 19 days ago

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datv end

well, the game is over and yeah, just mostly disappointing. i'm glad there is a good chunk of people who are thoroughly enjoying this game, but datv is definitely something that was clearly rushed, half assed, and strung together from the pieces of the dead multiplayer.

pros:

the linear questing is fine. dai was riddled with fluff fetch quests that got boring very quickly. very little of it in datv, but i did not enjoy the treasure quests or haunting missions.

very pretty environments. the team that put together each area did amazing. the lighting was so beautiful in this game. the necropolis especially was really cool to see.

gameplay options are super customizable. you can play with the settings to make it as easy or difficult as you please. it autosaves pretty much before any sizable decision so if you ever change your mind, you can always reload that save.

hair physics are wild, in a good way.

assan is cute.

cons:

the writing is a fucking tragedy. from the main story to little conversations you have with your companions, dialogue is awkward af and stilted. conversations will just abruptly end and you just move on to the next thing. exposition mainly comes from varric talking through slide shows instead of meaningful dialogue and gameplay so the narrative is so disjointed. i was thrown off when i got the prompt to begin the end missions bc i assumed we had 20 more bullshit quests to do. nothing from the previous games matter; unless you boned solas, i guess. the world state questions they ask you are pretty much pointless. making your inquisitor is pointless bc unless they romanced solas, they don't do anything. everyone also repeats themselves constantly. if you've watched angry joe's review of this game, he was not exaggerating with his opening skit. pretty much everyone speaks to you like you're an invalid. i won't go into what was basically retconned from the previous games bc this is already becoming way too long.

the combat is boring and janky. your inputs aren't read very well, the hitboxes for enemy attacks are fucked, the game wants to auto target constantly whether you're locked on or not. like many others who did not enjoy the gameplay, i turned the difficulty to easy to just get through it. even on standard, enemies have way too much health and it gets boring very quickly. class comp doesn't matter, you can face tank anything as whatever class, every class pretty much has magic now, and every companion has the ability to heal you. there is no strat, there is no positioning, no worthwhile combos bc every combo pretty much does the same shit.

too much glow effects. it's on everything. my eyes are so tired from all the flashing lights.

i romanced lucanis, and i didn't even get to kiss him until about 70hrs in.

hair is great, but you can't give yourself tits and ass.

minrathous as a location was fucking wasted. it was boring, dull, and beige. no opulence of the magisters, no signs of fantastical magic holding the city together, no cruelty of slavery and the war. doesn't matter if you play as an elf or qunari, you can just freely walk about and do whatever bc all race and religious tensions are gone.

blood of arlathan was the stupidest quest in the game. it's still insane to me how much bullshit fuckery went into it and none of the professional devs and writers had second thoughts before shipping this game. this quest alone could bring down all of it for me.

companions had potential, but no one has any memorable personalities. everyone was either boring or annoying, which is a huge shame. i could see all the possibilities for them, but i guess the writers were so afraid to put anything potentially interesting in to arouse any feelings???

rook as a protag feels so unnecessary? their role should have been filled by the inquisitor as so many story lines from dai were tied up.

varric twist was stupid. i'm not even mad he's dead bc how they framed it was just confusing. doesn't make sense, but whatever! this franchise is dead and i won't even look at anything mass effect related bc this team can't write for shit or come up with a compelling gameplay loop. :) thanks bioware. i will attempt to erase it from my mind and pretend it ended at dai.

#datv spoilers #tldr it's a no from me

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ladyloveandjustice · 2 years ago

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Fall 2022 Anime Overview: Five Anime!

I’ve done a lengthier review of Mobile Suit Gundam:The Witch from Mercury you can read here and now it’s time to tackle the five other anime I watched last season!

There’s some anime I chose to save for later, like Bocchi the Rock! (which I’m watching now and enjoying) and Raven of the Inner Palace, though I’ve heard great things about it and it’s a rare shoujosei adaptation so definitely go check it out! I might do a review of that when I do get to watch it, since it’s been overlooked this season with so many heavy hitters.

But onto what I did watch!

Akiba Maid War

This jaw-dropping genre pastiche takes the tropes of yakuza cinema and applies them to early 2000′s maid cafes in Akihabara locked in bloody war. Young Nagomi dreams of working in a maid cafe, only to find when she goes to work for the Oinky-Doink cafe (yes, they’re pig themed) that the cafe is heavily in debt and rival maid cafes are gunning to take it down. She’s protected by the deadly 35 year-old maid Ranko, who has a dark past.

Akiba Maid War is wild from start to finish. It starts up with shootout where Ranko kills a ton of maids perfectly timed to a cutesy maid cafe music performance and doesn’t let up from there. There’s a side-splitting bloody baseball episode, a deadly boxing match, and more. The comedy is endlessly entertaining- the way the maids continue to use their stupid animal puns even as they engage in yakuza style violence kills me- but it also has quite a few dark twists in line with its inspiration. This a show that could have easily come off as making fun of conventional femininity or indulged in tons of fanservice, but it doesn’t do either of those things. It’s just women in ridiculous outfits fighting each other and getting into ridiculous situations. It’s just utterly committed to its bit in a way that’s admirable.

I wouldn’t saw this a show with many big themes- though there’s the expected “can we stop the cycle of violence” one that comes up later. But there are some smaller things it’s very consistent about, and one of them is the message that if you want to be a cute, you are, and fuck anyone who says otherwise. Ranko is 35 (later 36) and is also utterly terrifying with a deep voice, but she repeatedly states that age has nothing to do with being cute or a maid, and when rival maids shit-talk her for being older than them they’re always framed as villains and shut down. The series coda especially hammers in it’s message of ‘women in their 30s are cute and can be whatever they want’. This shouldn’t be notable, but anime is well known for acting like any woman over 22 is a hideous old...maid, so it’s actually pretty refreshing. Ranko is fantastic.

If you can stomach exaggerated violence (I would call it an anime that revels in gore and the violence is cartoonish half the time, but lots of folks get shot), I definitely recommend this one. It’s a fun (and occasionally heartbreaking) ride. Definitely in my top 5 for the year.

Chainsaw Man

After being exploited by the yakuza ,the teenaged Denji gains the ability to turn into a ‘chainsaw devil” and is recruited by a shady government organization. He’s told that if he doesn’t work for them to kill other devils, he’ll be killed himself. Denji’s perfectly happy with this, because after a hard life he’s only interested in a warm bed, three meals a day, and his dream of touching a boob. Teamed up with a blood-crazed demon girl and babysat by a tired veteran demon hunter, Denji doesn’t realize the ominous machinations closing in on him...

I enjoyed this anime, and it inspired me to read the manga, which I enjoyed even more. It’s a fun time full of monsters and weirdos and there are themes of being exploited by your workplace and all that good stuff. But I’m not going to count it among my favorites, because honestly, the early Chainsaw Man material isn’t the strongest. Though a good deal of it is needed to build up what the manga does later, a lot of it feels meandering.

Denji is also a bit repetitively horny in the early chapter/episodes (though he at least hops the bar-in-hell most horny anime boys don’t manage to slither over and doesn’t violate consent). Unlike most horny anime guys, his immature attitude is a little understandable as he grew up isolated from other people with little education, this is all new to him. He does develop as a character (shocking twist, I know) as he slowly gains more of an understanding of how to approach the idea of sex in a way that works for him. But it takes 5 episodes to get him on that track. I don’t blame the anime for this like most. They definitely added a few sequences to stretch things out, but it does adapt roughly three chapters per episode, which isn’t a bad pace (and is pretty much needed to fit the first arcs into a 12 episode space). And if they cut anything out, fans would be throwing an even bigger fit than they already are. (It’s very funny to see the same fans that complain about the slow pacing turn around and complain about a small sequence cut out of the second episode. WHICH IS IT GUYS, THEY CAN’T DO BOTH).

I think Chainsaw Man fans need to acknowledge the early material just isn’t as as good as the later stuff, and being able to binge-read it in manga form just helps. The anime can’t do much about that, and it’s clearly a cinematic all-star production, with lovingly animated new ending credits and songs for each individual episode, so I don’t have a lot of sympathy for complaining fans when I had to endure Sailor Moon Crystal and a million yuri adaptations kneecapped by production woes. It’s a good anime doing what it can with the material it has, y’all try having real anime problems for once.

Rant aside, Chainsaw Man has a lot of good action, and importantly to me, a fun range of fucked up women. It’s also the rare anime that plays into the horror of an adult woman grooming a teenage boy. The anime does a good job of throwing up the red flags for Makima, yet she’s so good at what she does you almost fall for her alongside Denji. There’s also the loveable, feral demon-girl Power, who hits a lot of my adoration buttons. I do love that for once, the guy and girl teen leads of a shonen manga are truly just buddies, she and Denji have a fun vitriolic friendship. Because of the themes of the story, there’s an unlikely confluence most of the women Denji meets manipulating him by offering sexual favors, which is unfortunate if you read into it. But I honestly just think the author just likes terrible women, which hey, same. Overall, the anime got me to read the manga, and now that I’ve devoured it all, I’ll be happy to consume next season at whatever pace it goes. I just hope those unfortunate animators at Mappa get some rest.

Do it Yourself!

Teenager Yua Serufu (yes that’s a pun and it is bought up) is separated by the best friend who gets into a fancy tech school. Yua is endlessly clumsy, but when she runs into a cool girl, she becomes interested in joining the Do It Yourself! club and do some carpentry and crafting. The club quickly grows, but can Yua lure her estranged bff into the fold?

This is just a cute show with cute animation about girls working with power tools. It’s relaxing and sweet and there’s not much else to say about it. It’s set five minutes into the future, but it did handle it’s themes of tech vs analogue well, with the ultimate message being “now that we have all this cool tech, we should focus on doing what we want, like working with our hands”, which is nice in these troubled times. The characters are very archetypal- Yua’s friend is a sympathetic tsundere, there’s a girl who says ‘nya’ a lot, etc. It’s a little noticeable that the American exchange student is way more fleshed out than the South-Asian one (we don’t even get her country of origin stated in the show) and there’s a weird moment with the little robot watching the girls bathing. Other than that, not much to warn for. It’s a sweet show, but it likely won’t set your world on fire.

Spy x Family Season 2

More Spy x Family, and it continues to be a lot of fun! I enjoyed season 1 a lot, but unfortunately this season covers some of the weaker material in the manga, where the story seemed to be spinning its wheels with a lot of one shots. Because of how the seasons are separated, it’s also incredibly noticeable how underutilized Yor (assassin mom) is in this one and how little we know about her job. Honestly, I don’t think that’s entirely down to sexism or anything, I wonder if the writer was just struggling with how to make readers root for Yor hunting down and killing a man- it’s a pretty big ask for that to be the main focus of an arc in a family-friendly comedy. But fortunately, he does eventually figure it out, and there’s a good Yor arc full of strong material coming up right where this season cuts off, so look forward to that.

For some reason, they also cut out one of my favorite sidestory chapters with Yor. Considering that they adapted all the other sidestories and even added material this season, I wonder if they’re just saving it for the next one? They better be. Anyway, Anya’s still great, there’s a cute dog, it’s still a fun anime, but not as strong as the first season. Fortunately, there’s good stuff coming up.

Mob Psycho 100 Season 3

It’s the final season of Mob Psycho! This is a quieter season than Season 2, but the show’s themes of identity and accepting oneself remain strong. Episode 6 made me emotional about a character I’d never had any emotions about before, there’s a cute little mini-arc focusing on everyone’s favorite weird alien-obsessed girl and the finale is a perfect cap on both Mob and Reigen’s development. It’s a beautiful culmination of all the growth we’ve seen in the relationship that’s the heart of the show. I appreciated that, as small as they were, we got some glimpses of the real, grounded girl that exists behind Mob’s idolization of his crush Tsubomi. It was a nice touch that she lost her sparkly anime eyes and she got plainer ones like the other characters as it was impressed on us she doesn’t exist on a pedestal. It’s just all around solid material. I’ll miss this show a lot.

#akiba maid war #mob psycho 100 #chainsaw man #do it yourself #do it yourself!#spy x family #anime overview #fall 2022 anime #my reviews #recs

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heartsoulrocknroll · 11 hours ago

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Fun Spot Kissimmee, Fun Spot Orlando, Busch Gardens Tampa Trip Report 3/16/24

This was such a stupid trip. Four parks and an 18-hour roundtrip drive in two and a half days, let's go!!!!

Coaster Rankings

1) Iron Gwazi (x 2 night rides)

This isn't a new credit for me, so I probably shouldn't include it in the rankings, but I never want to shut up about it, so here I go. This whole trip was inspired by how badly I wanted to get back on this ride, and it did not disappoint. The absolutely terrible ops and the stupidly long wait times were 100% worth it just for two transcendent, otherworldly, ridiculous night rides in row 11 and 12. It has the best RMC drop by far. It crushes you with positive Gs in the valleys. The outerbank is psychotic, similar to ArieForce One and Steel Vengeance in the pure power and crazy duration of the ejector airtime. The death roll is the greatest inversion ever created, like the Twisted Timbers and Storm Chaser drops on steroids, with how you are already flying before going into it -- the whip is truly nuts. The wave turn is one of the most powerful ejector airtime moments on any coaster. The stall is pure fun. Then the ride continues to deliver airtime pops, followed by a massive drop right at the end that causes the train to pick up speed again and absolutely slam into the brakes. It is so aggressive at night. It was absolutely RIPPING. I don't even know what to say. It's the best steel coaster I've ever ridden. It's a perfect ride.

2) Mine Blower (x 4 rides)

I LOVE this ride. It is pure chaos. The drop is one of the best I've experienced on a coaster of this size, giving shockingly good, strong, borderline ejector airtime. The corkscrew is a great element, and the novelty of an inversion on what was originally a traditional wooden coaster is always going to be cool. But the rest of the layout is fantastic, with several more strong airtime moments, including the double down after the corkscrew and all the hills going under the ride structure. This coaster also has excellent pacing and is filled with aggressive transitions and tight turns. The fact that it only reaches a max speed of 49 mph is amazing to me, because it is so aggressive and maintains its speed so well. My first rides are coming after the partial RMC 208 retrack, and I will say, the ride is still significantly rougher than most other wooden coasters I've done. The transitions between the new steel track and the old wood track are violent, especially going into the corkscrew and into the double down. But that roughness, along with the screaming of the wheels on the 208 track, just makes the ride even more chaotic and hilarious to me. With a full Gravity Group retrack instead of the RMC steel track, this would be a truly elite coaster. It's a shame.

3) White Lightning (x 4 rides)

This ride proves that stats don't define a family coaster vs. a thrill coaster. This is clear when you compare White Lightning to Invadr at BGW. I was shocked to look on RCDB and see that White Lightning has a slightly smaller drop and a slightly slower max speed than Invadr. I would never have even compared them in my mind otherwise. White Lightning's layout and profiling put it in the same conversation as some of the larger GCIs. It has a nice, twisting drop, as well as fantastic pacing, maintaining speed throughout the whole ride. The second hill of the double up is the most sustained airtime moment on any GCI I've done, giving at least 2 seconds of floater. The return run continues to deliver the negatives, as each of the small hills gives solid floater. It's amazing how smooth this ride is still running, being four years older than Mine Blower. I didn't even notice the Titan Track, because almost the whole ride is smooth (with the exception of a little spot on the turnaround). To conclude, this is an awesome ride that blew my expectations away. I just wanted to keep riding over and over.

4) Hurricane (x 1 ride)

This ride is way more fun than it should be. With the larger height, faster speed, and longer track length, this one surpasses the Atlanta one by a good bit. I really like the janky laterals on the turns, and the series of small hills at the end gives some abrupt, awkward airtime. Hilarious ride.

5) Galaxy Spin (x 1 ride)

This park is full of hilarious rides. I've always found Zamperla spinning wild mouse coasters funny, and this is no exception. It doesn't have the crazy laterals of a Mack wild mouse, but the spinning is kind of fun.

Trip Details

This was such a stupid trip. Four parks and an 18-hour roundtrip drive in two and a half days. We left home after I got off work at like 8:00 PM on Friday evening, drove almost five hours to a hotel in Darien, GA, then made the last four hours of the drive the next morning to Fun Spot Kissimmee. We got there at about 2:00 PM and stayed until about 4:00 PM. We got two rides on Mine Blower first, then we did Galaxy Spin. They had some sort of car show going on there, so we walked around to see the cars for a few minutes. It took us forever to find it, but we finally rode Hurricane next. Then I ended with two more solo rides on Mine Blower. After that, we drove to Fun Spot Orlando. We got there around 5:00 PM and only stayed until about 6:00 PM, because I was in a rush to get on Iron Gwazi. Freedom Flyer was closed, so I didn't get that credit. But we spent our hour getting four rides on White Lightning. I could see Velocicoaster and Hulk running from the queue of White Lightning, and that was torture, because I didn't have the time or money to get to Universal on this trip. Will I ever ride Velocicoaster?? Who knows?? Lol. Anyway, it was about 8:00 PM by the time we made it into BGT. So we had two hours on a Saturday night to try to get in as many rides as possible on Iron Gwazi. And with the absolutely abysmal ops causing a 55-60 minute wait, that turned out to be two rides. I'm just glad we got to do it more than once at all, with how these ops were running. The train was parked in the station for five minutes at a time on multiple occasions. I don't even know how that's possible. We didn't even get to do anything else at BGT. But it was sooooo worth it.

#roller coasters #amusement park adventures #iron gwazi #mine blower #white lightning #hurricane #galaxy spin #busch gardens tampa #fun spot kissimmee #fun spot orlando #personal

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princessfanonanona · 2 years ago

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Jazz rubs her temples, sniffling down the groan of pain from the building headache that wasn't quite yet a migraine.

Her meeting with Mr. Sloghburg over Danny's grades wasn't great. Ran over by an entire hour of not great. Which meant she hit the worst traffic coming home due to a flipped 18 wheeler of all things that turned the usual drive went from 35 minutes to 2 hours and change.

And just as she pulled onto their street, she realized she was out of gas and had to go back out to get it because she was not going to have time in the morning. What with the meeting with the Big Wigs that started at 8 and it was already way too late to he going to bed but she was already out-

Jazz steps out of the car and feels something cold drift over her foot.

She looks down at the shadow under her car.

A little too dark despite the late hour.

A little too solid.

Moving carefully she pulls the silver and green lipstick case out of her purse. With a practiced flick and twist, she blasts that space under her foot. There's a squeak and a hiss, the cold sharply pulling away.

Hopefully it was just a stray ectopus.

Hopefully.

With a sigh, Jazz gets out of the car and makes the long trek up to her apartment.

Because of course the elevator wasn't working. Just icing on the cake.

Superb.

Fantastic.

Jazz does not kick a new dent into the metal frame. Though she wants to.

Oh Ancients does she want to.

But that is unproductive and improper.

So up the stairs she goes.

Seventh floor, top of the building.

But there's her door. She can practically smell her clean sheets from here. Screw dinner, she's going straight to bed.

She puts her key in the deadbolt.

Snap.

Snap?

Hey key is broken.

Inside the deadbolt.

For the love of-

She doesn't scream. No.

Jazz takes a deep breath.

Glares at the stupid useless ridiculous bit of key in her hand, and then rummages through her purse.

Working through a bit of gum, and using a bobby pin, she's able to unlock the door and get the teeth of the key back out.

The door opens to reveal a headless Phantom standing on the back of her couch, holding Johnny 13's head in his hand. The headless Johnny stands in her kitcher holding Danny’s head above himself like a basketball. Shadow and Kitty are drinking margaritas upside down on her ceiling. Half the room is on fire the other half is iced over. Her coffee table is smashed. The hanging kitchen light and fan are embedded in the wall.

Her bag hits the floor.

Danny and Johnny yeet their respective heads at each other and deftly reattach them.

Jazz pulls the Anti-Creep-Stick from its place by the door.

"You have 10 seconds to fix this."

"Wait, Jazz I can-"

"9."

"That's our cue, shortstack," Johnny juts a thumb over his shoulder.

"8."

"No, don't you dare-"

Jazz pivots, slamming the extended bat into Johnny's side.

"-leave m- oh shit"

"Johnny!"

"7."

"Yep, okay!" Danny darts to start getting rid of the fire and ice.

"6."

Shadow lunges at Jazz and gets hit solidly in the face. They fly backwards into Kitty.

"5."

"Ancients, don't fight her, and start cleaning!"

"4."

"We're dead, why do we have to cle-" Kitty's question is cut off by taking the bat to her knee.

"3."

Danny ignores them by pulling out the fan from the wall and attempts to cover the hole in the wall.

"2."

Failing that, he zips to the coffee table and ices it into a non-broken form.

"1."

Danny squeaks and hides behind the couch.

"Thank you Danny, stay there, I need to have some words with my other guests."

"Oh, so that's what you meant when you said this wasn't your place," Johnny says, snapping his fingers.

"Correct, it's mine, and I've had a very. Bad. Day," Jazz swings the bat.

ok ok we've all seen "will literally sacrifice her soul and everything inside for her little brother" jazz now give me "Fuck This Shit I'm Out let's go fucking hogwild bro" jazz

#danny phantom #dp phic #jazz hours #nona writes #prompt fill

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ddejavvu · 3 years ago

Note

Thanks in advance if you decide to write this. What if Hotch's next door neighbors are college students (frat boys type) who have a crush on Reader and whenever she comes over to Hotch's they make up excuses to see her like knocking and asking for stupid shit like salt or toilet paper, and obviously hotch sees through their shit.

The dull knocks on Aaron's door instant made him tense, your hand patting sympathetically against his thigh.

"They're here again," Aaron spoke through gritted teeth, "I'm going to talk to them."

"They'll just come back when they know you're gone," You sighed, reluctant to let your husband up off of the couch to storm to the door, "Just leave it, they won't know we're here unless you open the door."

"I want them to know that I'm here." He huffed, gripping the doorknob so tight you thought he'd snap it off. He yanked the door open, and you watched the one side of the interaction that you could see from your spot on the couch, your husband's face set in his intimidating glower.

"What do you boys need this time?"

"Your wife-"

"We need your wife to bring us some toilet paper." One of the college students cut off the other one, and his lazy grin was practically audible in his smug tone, "Can she come to the door?"

"She doesn't want to." He snapped, eyes ablaze, "Leave."

"Well just tell her we're here-" One of them started, but Aaron already had the door half closed in their faces.

"She knows it's you. That's why she doesn't want to come to the door. You know, I think it's ironic that three human shitstains are asking for toilet paper, but I know you don't actually need it, it's just a ruse to ogle my wife. So if you'll kindly leave her alone, that would be fantastic. And if you don't, I'll kindly stomp your heads against the curb. Do you understand me?"

You couldn't hear anything from the three frat boys, but you knew the look that anyone snapped at by Aaron usually donned, and you'd die to see it on their faces.

Apparently, they didn't put up much of a fight, and you didn't blame them. Aaron slammed the door only seconds later, his footfalls heavy against the floor as he stomped back to the couch. He sat down with a huff, curling his arm around you when you draped yourself over his chest again, eyes lazily tracking the movie that was playing.

"That was harsh," You teased, two fingers poking at the sides of his heavy-set frown to mold it into a makeshift smile, "I bet at least one of 'em's gonna cry."

"Good," Aaron grumbled, the smile you'd manufactured on his face taking on a life of its own as he stared down at you, "They're so bold."

"Well you don't need to worry," You sighed, your eyes droopy as you laid your cheek against Aaron's chest, "I'm all yours, no matter how many admirers I have in the building."

Aaron chuckled deeply, the sound rumbling in his chest. You curled impossibly closer to him, a yawn escaping your mouth as your fingers twisted themselves idly in the fabric of his shirt.

You missed the way he was looking down at you, your gaze hanging blearily on the television, but you felt it, the adoration pouring from him tangible even if you didn't see it.

"I love you, sweetheart." He murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of your head, then after a moment of silence, added, "But seriously, let me know if they come back. I'll have Morgan bust up one of those disgustingly loud parties they have, 'n see if they've got anything left to say after being raided by the FBI."

"Don't freak them out," You mumbled, giggling lightly against his shirt, "They won't come back, trust me. Not after you put them in their place."

"But if they do-"

"If they do," You stretched lithely, another yawn slipping past your lips as you let your eyes finally slip shut, "You can protect me, I promise."

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miiilowo · 1 year ago

Text

hey you realize i can read your reblog right. i wasnt saying half the shit you put in here, i do think hes an irredeemable abusive asshole, so dont insult me and boil down my interpretation of him down to "tumblr sexyman who can do no wrong", thanks.

first off, this whole, general post, isn't worded very well, mostly because i am/was irritated at the shitty writing this series does have and always has had. its great that you managed to piece together whatever the hell this is back in 2015, thats fantastic, good for you! that doesn't change that to me, and to an extremely large portion of the fanbase, this felt very badly done and phoned in because the amount of clues that Were dropped (if you can even say they were actual clues at all) were far and few inbetween, and wouldn't lead someone to believe that william is pumping hallucinogenic fear gas into his childrens bedrooms. when you set up shit in a certain way, people are going to believe that Thats What The Story Is, because thats typically how storytelling. yknow. works. this isnt some masterful plot twist, hell, this isnt even point a to point b. ive always thought that the "closed due to leaks" thing was william trying to cover his ass because an animatronic he built MURDERED HIS OWN CHILD and he was attempting to come up with an excuse/a coverup. a lot of other people Also thought this. it's not an out there assumption to make, and acting like people are stupid for not managing to get "fear gas chambers" from "closed due to leaks" just doesnt seem fair to me lmfao

second of all, it wasnt a silly headcanon i came up with and got MAD that scott would DARE to interfere with MY AFTON that he cared for his children, it was based off evidence that was given to us in the games, because william afton in The Games is different to william afton in The Books. not everything is going to line up. for example, in the books, he sedated/put the kids to sleep before killing them, which would demonstrate a level of care of some kind, or at least a lack of complete cruelty when it comes to the murders. but i dont think he did that when he killed charlie outside in the rain. do you understand what im getting at? their characterization isnt identical in a manner of ways, and since i apparently wasnt Smart Enough and i was too absorbed in my "uwu tumblr sexyman afton" interpretation to get scotts supposedly master plan correct or whatever, i interpreted the following as him (though in a fucked up helicopter parent sort of way) trying to keep an eye on and protect his children while he was busy working because hes a neglectful piece of shit:

security cameras all over the house and in bedrooms

circus baby being modeled after elizabeth, and william repeatedly telling elizabeth to stay away from circus baby, presumably because he didnt want her to get hurt (i dont think this is an insane leap of logic to make either)

the fredbear plushie being a way to monitor evan specifically as he is constantly terrified (among other things regarding his own motives)

generally, i dont think someone who essentially founded chuck e cheese would hate children, let alone his own kids

your argument includes the fact that someone who loves their kids wouldn't do any of these things. this isnt true. someone whos a Good Parent wouldnt do these things. someone whos a Bad parent but still loves their kids to some degree might. theres a big difference there. evil people have things they care about, and i personally think that having afton care about his children but being a bad parent who goes about it in a Bad Way is much more interesting than him just being some abusive dad lmfao. im not trying to make him cute or redeemable or whatever the fuck else you might think. it may not be the perfect unconditional love that Good Characters and Good People are capable of, but we are both well aware that he's neither of those things, yes?

while none of those things were stated as being outright canon ways he cared about his kids with afton turning to the camera and telling the reader that, it was still a theory of mine that got disrupted a bit, and i feel like being upset over something like that is fair. not to pull the "im literally neurodivergent and a minor" card, but FNAF and Namely william have been a special interest of mine (autism) for nearly 9 years now. im going to be a little bit sensitive about this kind of thing. especially when my favorite character of all time who i hold dearly to me gets a wrench thrown in what i thought was his characterization by shitty writing

everyone's interpretations of the timelines and characters differ, ive just been very frustrated that people keep acting like this was the plan the whole time and shitting on people who got upset about it. scotts been phoning it in for the whole 9 years hes been making fnaf, but youd think at this point maybe, just maybe, they'd learn when to leave things behind. apparently not. (for the record, i do think it was michael in fnaf 4, and i thought it was likely the illusion discs if not a nightmare induced by the guilt of killing his younger brother. having it be the nightmare option is more compelling to me as well, considering it, oh, i dunno, Gives The Protagonist Motivation And Depth, but i guess we should throw that out the window too since everyone knew this was coming and 95% of the fanbase just happened to miss it)

honestly? im mostly irritated by the fear gas stuff because if its actual intention is to explain fnaf 4, then my main reasoning for why william actually cared about his kids in the game canon is out the window. if people are correct, and the monitors didnt exist to watch them to make sure they were safe (considering he was never home or working on shit relating to his career) but Instead existed to monitor them when their rooms were being pumped with fucking. hallucinogenic gas. god. pulling my hair out

#sorry if this is an overreaction lol #its late. this is bothering me. and i hate nothing more than people discarding my interpretation of william as useless fluffy fandom fodder #i do actually care about him and resent the implication that im getting mad because my cute sexyman headcanon got disrupted or whatever #hes irredeemable. hes a piece of shit. i just like him to have depth and not be pure evil for the sake of it

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alolowrites · 3 years ago

Text

Smack That

Summary: Bakugou has a lot of discipline, but he’s still a man who loves your ass.

Author’s Note: Heyyyyyy *nervous chuckle* how’s it going? I really wanted to get one more story out before 2021 ended and OF COURSE it was Bakugou lmao. I got inspired by a tik tok vid with a gym couple but added my little ~spicy~ twist at the end hahaha. Nothing too crazy (aka no smut, im sorry :/) Also everyone is aged-up!

Story is kinda a sequel to Gymtleman if y’all wanna read it.

Enjoy :D

Word Count: 584

Growing an ass was a process that didn’t happen overnight. You must put in the work, put in the hours, and most importantly, put out a whole lot of tears at the gym. Luckily for you, those tears passed off as gritty sweat that just so happened to fall out of your eyes.

You plopped on the bench, chugging down the water like a lost traveler who hadn't drunk anything for days. Instant relief washed over you, but the battle was far from over. You took a few moments to rest your aching muscles before trekking toward the dumbbells. The next set wouldn’t be any easier than the last one—Bakugou ensured this.

After months admiring him from afar at the gym–plus an additional five months of dating–you’ve come to realize that Bakugou doesn’t half-ass anything, especially if it was your ass. He was tougher than a drill sergeant, pushing you to go above and beyond because he knew you had the potential. It was a complete mystery how you managed to survive this long at the gym with him.

You stared at the dumbbells, your chest heaving a bit. The fifty-pound weights were the correct choice, but the twenty-pound pair looked tempting. You glanced over your shoulders and saw Bakugou was busy on the bench press across the room. There was no way he would notice the tiny switch for your next set. You snatched the lighter pair—what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

But more importantly, it won’t hurt you or your dying legs.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” you muttered, taking in a deep breath to push through the last set of the day. Except you barely had a chance to start after someone yanked the dumbbell out of your grasp. You shot up, annoyed. “Hey, what gives–oh.”

Bakugou gave you a firm look.

“Sup, babe!” You stupidly hid the other dumbbell with a nervous chuckle. “Done with chests so soon?”

“Give it.”

“Ugh, fine.”

You passed the dumbbell to him. Bakugou put them away and carried over the correct pair without breaking a sweat. You almost fell forward after holding the fifty-pound dumbbells that weighed like an anchor for a navy ship.

“Really, babe?! It’s heavy!”

“That’s the point,” Bakugou snorted, crossing his arms. “How else is that ass gonna grow?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grunted and gripped the dumbbells tight. Feeling cheeky, you wiggled your butt at him. “No pain, no gain, huh?”

“That’s right.”

You gasped at the hard sting on your cheeks from Bakugou’s greedy slap heard around the world, or at least the gym. You searched over your shoulders; so far, no one was looking your way. For once, the ego lifters’ loud, obnoxious grunts were a gift sent from above instead of the usual headache.

“Katsuki! What the hell?!” You whacked Bakugou’s chest and hissed, “We’re in public!”

“Tch, so? I’m just feeling your progress,” Bakugou laughed, his eyes checking you out. He didn’t try to keep his hands off you again, squeezing your body as though you were his personal toy. He growled into your ear, “Gonna have to do a thorough check when we get home.”

Bakugou smacked your ass once again, and you rolled your eyes, fighting back a stupid grin. Sure he might be more disciplined than a drill sergeant, but Bakugou was still a man who had a weakness for your glorious ass. And he’ll make sure to appreciate it with a hearty smack that will leave you sore for days.

Don’t come at me if there’s a Bakugou handprint on your cheeks the next day aksjdhsakjdjh.

Thank you for reading! And have a fantastic new year :D I will manifest good vibes for y’all for 2022.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki

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keilemlucent · 4 years ago

Text

take care of me

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~4.4k

beta’ed: @hawnks

keigo is perfectly happy to help you forget a stressful day

warnings: daddy kink (no age play), spanking, aftercare, praise kink, self indulgent smut, spit kink <333333, bdsm, masochist reader

...

self indulgent..... caregiver dom keigo? we knew it was coming. enjoy loves <333

||||||||||||||||||||||

You ached all over.

The mental exhaustion of the day was far more grating than the physical, but the dull throb of your tired muscles was impossible to ignore, even when you were only half-conscious on the couch.

You were put out.

You’d been burrowed under a pile of blankets since you’d stumbled into the penthouse after work, curling up without even bothering to take off your shoes.

Night had fallen, the apartment cold, silent and still. Normally, you might’ve whipped up some dinner or showered, maybe done something productive.

But not that night.

You’d held yourself together through the day. Each angry word and sneer you faced was handled with a smile, despite how you were cracking inside. You even managed to keep an even expression when your scalding morning coffee was splattered over your shirt, almost burning you.

Well, you weren’t sure if it hadn’t. You hadn’t checked, considering you were still wearing the stained garment. Maybe, the skin of your stomach was as inflamed and puckered as it felt.

Maybe that was just your mood.

...

You hardly stirred when the balcony door of the apartment slid open and then shut, Keigo’s ruffling and booted footsteps echoing across over the apartment.

Your eyes stay half-lidded and hazy when Keigo rounds the couch, eyes softening as he notices your cocoon of blankets.

“Hey, dove,” Dropping to his knees neck to the couch, he cups the side of your cheek in a gloved hand, “Feeling a bit tired?”

You nodded, lips still sealed.

There was nothing in you to give, just the slow simmering of exhaustion and sadness that you couldn’t escape.

Keigo’s gaze softened, gold and far-too pretty in the dim light of the living room, “Bad day?”

“Y-yeah.”

Your voice cracked when you spoke, the words going grainy as your chest tightened.

As you sniffled, burying your face into the blankets as unwelcome tears stung at the corners of your eyes.

Very bad day.

He shed his jacket and gloves, tossing them to the side without a care. Keigo coaxed you to rise, only enough for him to slip into the blankets, laying underneath you to pull your head to his chest.

“I’ve gotcha’, dove,” He hummed, pressing kiss after kiss into your hair. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

You didn’t respond, only bit your lip and buried your face into his chest.

Keigo had just arrived home after a long day, and the last thing you wanted was to be a chore to deal with consider how fucking trashed you felt. The idea of being a burden—

His voice shocked you from your thoughts.

“Do you want daddy to take care of it?”

His words and all of their insinuations washed over you.

You knew Keigo had no issues taking that role— fuck, he confided in you many, many times that he loved being able to take care of you in any and all ways.

Giving it a name, an identity, made him purr with pride.

You swallowed, the idea curling your head. Catharsis by Keigo’s hand sounded fucking fantastic in the most gut-rotting way.

You nodded.

Keigo smiled against your hair, his own insides twisting. He’d had his own day of annoyance and had been more than ready and willing to come home to you and blow off some steam, but if this was what you needed, he was more than willing to provide and have a fantastic time doing it.

Keigo hummed, smoothing his hands up your sides. “So what are you feeling?” He knew you wouldn’t be great at giving anything other than ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answers, but he could try and coax a bit more out of you.

Options.

“I could start off slow, just how you like,” His voice curled over your ear with a nip as he slid his thumbs beneath your waistband. “Let you rut on my thigh like the cute little dove you are. If you’re good, maybe you could suck daddy’s cock while I lick your pussy clean.”

You buried your face in his neck, a high whine echoing from the back of your throat.

Keigo felt his cock twitch, wings stirring from their crunched position.

“Or, I could knot your wrist tight, give them those nice, pretty burns, tie you to the bottom of the couch and fuck you into the floor.”

You buried yourself deeper, all of the ideas in your head were alluring, but not quite right.

A kinder option was also a good idea.

“Or, I could hold you nice and tight like this for a while. Maybe take a bath, use that new massage oil we ordered, rub you down until all of that tension is pulled out by my hands.”

The pads of Keigo’s fingers rolled into the knots in your shoulders, some of the stress dripping away with the preview of his words.

It took the softness to realize what you really needed:

“I want it to hurt.”

Oh, and fuck, you wanted it to so bad.

You wanted to be fucked up and used so bad you could barely move. Fucked stupid, so all of the nasty thoughts of the day would melt away.

Keigo practically rumbled beneath you, his wings flexing and puffing up against your back, just inches from your face.

He wanted it— no, needed it, just as bad as you.

He took a few deep breaths beneath you, his hand wandering to settle with a bruising grip at the fat above your waist.

“Gimme your taps,” Keigo nuzzled against your cheek.

“One tap is that I’m good, two taps is slow down, three taps is stop, four taps is that I’m having trouble talking.”

It was an easy system, one you and Keigo had adapted to suit your needs and the often merciless ways he’d lay you to ruin.

“Perfect, dove, god,” Keigo sang his words like sweet prayers. Slowly, he sat up, still holding you tight to his chest. “You go wash up quick in the bedroom, I’ll get myself all settled and ready. Wear whatever you’d like and shout if you need me, okay?”

You swallowed, gut turning.

“O-Okay, I love you.

“I love you too, so fucking much.”

...

You took a few minutes in the bathroom to ground yourself. You still felt like shit, but in the way that now craved something different and more carnal to get it to fall away and release.

You trusted Keigo with everything in you. He knew how to pick you apart just the way you needed.

You wandered back into the living room, padding in quietly in a pair of fluffy socks, an oversized tee that hung just below your ass, and a pair of shorts that showed the barest bits of your cheeks.

Keigo was in the kitchen, the hilt of the knife clicking against the metal of the rings he wore as he chopped up a few of your favorite fruits and placed them into a wooden bowl.

He’d changed as well, looking sharper and much more like the ‘daddy Keigo’ that you knew. His black pants were sharp and perfectly fitted, along with the black mock neck he wore. He accessorized with a few rings on each hand and a chain necklace laying over his collarbones.

Keigo’s eyes flickered up to you as you regarded him, a little grin beginning to grow.

“Seems I overdressed.” His wings flared behind him, unable to hide his excitement the same way his face was.

“I-I can change—”

“Absolutely not,” Keigo slid around the kitchen island, tsking quietly. “You’re perfect, just like this.”

You didn’t reply, not until Keigo stopped in front of your and grabbed your jaw, pulling your gaze to him.

“Sweetness,” His affections rolled over your skull in the exact way you needed. “Do you want me to take care of you?”

“P-Please.”

The word was desperate, shaking and shuddering as it slipped from lips.

Keigo’s smile grows wider, his plumage ruffling.

“Sweet girl, try again.”

Your lip wobbled as he stroked down at your pulse point.

“Please, d-daddy.”

What a role to have.

Keigo loved it, notably.

It had started early, that incessant itch to care for you in any way that he could was semi-insatiable until he started to indulge it to his heart's content. You thrived off it too, needing that personal attention that he was so willing to give. And hell, it wasn’t like you didn’t return it constantly with endless love and sweetness.

He just took care of you.

The details, all the small things he’d gathered about since you’d gotten together (and before then too) were things he cherished. Little things about you he wasn’t even sure you noticed, he collected them and accommodated them in any way he could.

There was the more mundane, like your favorite smells and tastes and touches. The knowledge of the best textures of clothes and blankets that he loved to gift you and your favorite spices and sweets were coveted.

There was the more intimate, too.

He had taken breaking you apart with pleasure as a divine rite, that first time he got you on the silken sheets of his bed. Learning every twitch and shudder and what it meant felt like his life’s goal as he buried his face in your cunt.

You liked it all, notably.

You thrived off the attention, though it took a while for you to accept that ‘yes, you do indeed deserve this, very much so.’

Once more, you returned it. Perhaps you weren’t quite as perceptive as Keigo was, you didn’t have the training (thank god), but you did constantly return love to him. Your own touch and kind words more comforting than anything he’d ever received in his fucking life.

He could only return the favor by taking care of you in any way that you needed.

And that night?

You needed to hurt.

And Keigo, truthfully, was in the mood to get a bit of tied up anger out in the sweetest way possible.

...

Keigo drifted to the couch, your hand in his with you in tow. You were so meek that day, eyes downcast.

He’d have to be careful, watch your body and expressions and not push you too far. He trusted you to call things off, but he still never hurt you beyond what you could handle.

Besides, Keigo had crafted a wonderful plan that he was fairly (very) certain you would enjoy.

Keigo sat down on the couch, thighs parted the slightest bit, a half-chub already pressing against his trouser.

“Lie down, dove,” He kept his voice so sweet as he tapped his thigh. “Let me help you.”

You scrunched your shirt in your hands, mind beginning to get pleasantly hazy with his words and you laid yourself over his lap. You adjusted with your arms cushioning your head, knees pressed against the cushion.

“Talk to me, sweetness— What’s going on?” Keigo spoke as he nudged your hips upwards, your back bowing and arching under his touch.

“Just a bad day,” You swallowed, burying your face into the cushions. “I don’t want to think about it.”

Your head was already swimming, you didn’t want to mentally relive how awful the day had been—

“Then let’s make it good, hm?” Keigo mused, cupping your ass through your shorts and squeezing. “Make you forget in your favorite way. I know how much you like this.”

You tried to speak, but your jaw snapped shut with a click and a cry as Keigo’s palm smacked over the fat of your ass.

“You just need a little bit of extra help today, hm?” Keigo smoothed his hand over where he had struck. The motion was tender in the same way his words were, washing over you enough to almost distract from the pain that was just beginning.

“Uh-huh,” You replied, weak and muffled into the fabric beneath you.

Another strike sent you pressing into the cushions, whining against upholstery as Keigo rubbed over your skin was against, his other hand going to stabilize your back, tracing his name and little hearts over your spine.

“‘Uh-huh’, who?”

“Daddy!” You screamed with the next strike. Your words melded with the echo of the sounds of your flesh.

Keigo was beaming at you, you could feel it. His wings were puffed up, rippling in time with heavy breathing.

“Good girl, god, dove, perfect,” He leaned down to press a kiss to the back of your head while smoothing a hand beneath your shorts. “You’re just so good. You deserve so much good, you know that?”

You nodded as Keigo shucked your shorts to the ground, pushing up your shirt to leave most of you bare to him.

It felt vulnerable, despite having been in this position before.

“I d-do,” You stuttered, words sticky. “I am good.”

It felt real, for a moment, brightened by the sharp pain that was growing constant from your cheeks.

“God, perfect,” Keigo waxed, grabbing a handful of your ass and squeezing. “Here’s what you’re gonna do sweetness— here’s how I’m gonna take care of you today.”

His hand slid between your clenched thighs, pushing them apart and barely teasing your slit, “You’re gonna hurt for me, so fucking good. I’m gonna give you... twenty-five, how does that sound?”

You nodded, an answer Keigo accepted.

“Good,” You could hear his grin. “You’re gonna take each one so well, I know you will, dove.”

The expectation hurt so bad you winced.

Keigo hushed you with a hand to the back of your neck, “It’s alright, I’ll be right here. Just want to break you a little bit, hm?”

You whined this time, shifting your thighs together as Keigo chuckled.

“Maybe a lot, but we’ll see. I don’t want you thinking after this.”

Holy fuck, neither did you. You’d be content to be close to braindead when Keigo was through with you.

Any reply you had was just a warbled moan into the cushion below as Keigo slapped his hand down once more.

“Count, sweetness.”

“O-one.”

Another smack, to the other cheek, flesh growing hot.

“T-two— “

And Keigo didn’t fucking relent.

Each smack was hard, the fat of your ass jiggling and burning against the flat of his palm. The knick of his rings against the soft flesh only added to burn and sting.

Perhaps, in other conditions, Keigo would have built up to the level of pain he was providing. Preamble a bit with some softer touches and sweet words as opposed to relentlessly spanking your ass so hard you swore you could already feel welts forming from the rings he wore.

“T-t— Ten!”

Your voice cracked in your throat, each impact bringing up sprinklings of tears that were rubbed into the couch.

All the harshness of his strikes was in harmony with the sinfully soft way he was touching you otherwise.

A gentle hand running through your hair, mindful of any knots or tangles. His fingertips stroked up and down your neck, nails teasing the thin skin just below your ear. Even the way he rubbed at your flesh between strikes was so fucking tender, despite how his touch made the hot skin boil even more.

Your first muffled sob was what got him going verbally.

“Oh, wow,” Keigo whistled to himself, a sharp-nailed finger running up your spine. “Are you crying already, sweetness? Does this hurt too bad?”

“N-no,” You forced the words out, even as they clung to the back of your tongue.

The confusing feelings and emotions thrumming through you made you want to just let go. The tears mixed with the loving fullness in your chest, all counterpointed by hot pain that was ripping through your nerves from the bruises and singed skin from your ongoing spanking.

Not to mention the slick coating your thighs—

“Seems not,” Keigo clicked his tongue, pausing to run a finger over your slit. “Still dripping for me, even when I’m touching you like this?”

He spanked you again, right over a pre-existing welt.

You sputtered in the cushions, almost sobbing but still trying to hold onto a semblance of your composure.

Keigo could see it in the rigidity of your shoulders. No matter how he pressed into the muscles in time with the strikes he dealt, you just wouldn’t loosen up.

You shook against the cushions below, exertion from holding your arched back clear.

Keigo hummed to himself.

You said you wanted it to hurt, right?

And God, if he wasn’t going to deliver.

In a flurry of motion, Keigo shifted, bringing you with him.

Your cheek remained against the leather of the couch, blood rushing to your head as your ass was thrown up and over the armrest.

Keigo stood up, wings unrestrained and extended. You couldn’t see the angry, red plumage, only the shadow it threw over you.

“Oh, dove,” Keigo waxed. “You just need a bit more, right?”

Another strike.

“F-f— Fifteen— “

“You’ve had such a rough day, haven’t you?”

His words stir something vile in your soupy brain, a whimper leaking through your parted lips.

(Maybe, you were more fucked out than you thought.)

He hushed you with a yank on your hair, forcing your back and neck to bow.

“My dove just needs to know how loved they are, hm?”

You nodded, his grip tightening but you could hardly care. Each spark of pain felt so fucking good, your lingering barriers broke down more and more with each one of Keigo’s touches.

Whether they were that syrupy comforting kind or burning, bruising kind, you couldn’t care or tell. The blend of it all was flooding through you so well, all you could do was blubber out numbers between bursts of tears and ‘more’s and ‘please’es.

“T-we— n— ty!” The syllables felt choppy, maybe, but you hardly cared.

“Good girl, fuck,” Keigo gritted out, palming the front of his trouser. He’d been graciously (read: cruelly) ignoring your dripping cunt as well as his own ache throughout your spanking session.

He’d make sure the two of you were satisfied by the time it was all over.

You did have five strikes left.

“Taps for me, love,” Keigo’s rubbed at your back, hips bumping into your broiled ass.

You gave the leather below a single hard tap.

All good.

“Perfect.”

And with very little reverie, a few of Keigo’s feathers shot from his wings, wrapping around your wrists and ankles, pinning you to the leather.

And with even less reverie, Keigo’s spread your asscheeks wide and spat onto your cunt.

“K-Keigo!”

His name ripped from your throat, mixing with a shriek as the cold spit went clammy against your burning flesh.

“Try again, sweetness.”

The next strike was hard, and Keigo’s hold didn’t shift from your cheeks.

He’d hardened two fucking feathers.

Larger ones, broader enough to strike down at the top of the curve of your ass with a swift flick.

They were so much harder than his hands.

So.

Much.

Harder.

Harsher.

Crueler.

“D-daddy!”

You corrected yourself instantly, clawing into the cushions. Your chest burned as your sobs turned to weepings, your cheeks singeing with each harsh breath.

“Tw— e— nty one!

You barely managed to get the words out before Keigo buried his face in your cunt.

And fuck, did he eat you like the prized meal you were. His words be damned, he had plenty of ways to break you down beyond his verbal praise.

He lapped at the tacky slick on your thighs, licking up to tease at your pussy with the tip of his tongue. The stubble along his chin roughed up your most precious bits, but you didn’t mind.

If anything, you wanted it to hurt more.

For that reason, his feathers could finish the job. They surely had a harder hit than his hands had.

Based on the way you were quaking against him, stammering and blabbering little pleads and adorations, they were doing their job.

Broken little thing, weren’t you?

But that was the point, of course.

“Four more, dove,” Keigo murmured against your folds. “Say thank you with each one, dove. Keep being good for me.”

The command was all you needed, hurriedly nodding into the tear-soaked fabric below.

The feathers struck down again, skin breaking.

“T— wen-ty two!”

Keigo chuckled against your cunt, pulling away only to tease slide his fingers over your clit, “Feeling good?”

“T-Thank you!”

Oh, you were fucking braindead.

Keigo was all too pleased, a few smaller feathers going to prop up your hips as they trembled.

“Good,” His words were muffled by your sex, but neither of you had the mind to care about words. It was all in the soup of sounds that kept you rutting back into his tongue. “Keep going.”

The next strike was so loud, it eclipsed the sound of your own shriek.

“TW— wenty three! Thank you!”

Keigo could feel you wheeze, but no taps came.

No reason not to continue.

His own pants felt tight as he rolled his hips into the side of the couch, eyes rolling back into his head as your cunt gushed around him.

Your entire body was thrumming, pulsing from the inside out with what had to be pain, but you could hardly tell. You were spinning somewhere harsh and fast and you didn’t dare try to rationalize it.

All you could ground yourself on was the slap of Keigo’s feathers and the feel of him eating you in earnest.

It was enough, barely.

The next slap just added to your feelings.

“TWE— EN— ty f-four! T-thank you!”

Keigo pulled away, wiping your arousal from around his lips and scooting around the couch to get a better look at your face.

As absolutely hot as he was, and how desperately he wanted to eat you up until he burst, he also knew he was pushing you fairly hard.

“Sweetness, ready to take your last one?”

Keigo ran his fingers through your hair as your eyes focused on him in their half-lidded position.

“I-I can’t do it, daddy.”

He paused.

You’d have given taps if you wanted to stop, truly. He trusted you on that.

“Yes, you can,” Keigo cooed, thumbing a bit of drool over your cheek. “I know you can.”

“I-I can’t,” You sobbed out, burying your face into the couch. Despite your words, you stayed tense and rigid.

All you needed was a little push.

Keigo took to leaving gentle touches across your back, rubbing out your tension wherever he found it knotted. Your weeping didn’t fully subside, but it certainly quieted as you took gulps of breath was some gentle coaching.

“Can you take one more for me? For your daddy?” Keigo glowed with pride as he spoke, seeing the way your eyes lit up and your head bobbed against the cushions.

“Uh-huh,” You leaned into his touch where you could. “One m-more, f-for you.”

You gave a single tap into the cushions.

Keigo couldn’t help but be proud of you as you readjusted, arch going harsher and deeper.

He’d finished your spanking off with his hand, you earned it after taking so much so well.

The large feathers returned to him, while a single small one drifted between your sticky thighs to part your folds.

Slowly, the plume circled around your clit, lapping at the nub as his tongue would, your juices soaking it all the same.

Even as Keigo laid the most gentle touch on your ass, the throb and burn of it made your whimper and whine.

One more.

Just one more strike and all of that mundane stress and anger would be broken off from you and dissolved in a puddle of your own tears.

“When I give you your last one, you’re going to cum all over that feather for me, dove, understand?”

You nodded, hurriedly, barely grinding against the stimulation.

Keigo wound up, wings extended and full, before putting all of his weight into his swing.

His palm hit your rear with such a crack that it broke both of you.

You screamed, shrieked, as your thighs clenched and gave out beneath you. Any cries you’d be managing to hold back ripped from your throat with the last smack as your cunt clenched and pleasure exploded in your gut.

Barely, you managed to speak through your tears.

“Twenty-f-five.. .. thank you....”

Keigo had to take a moment himself, breathing hard and particularly weak-kneed.

The sweet cry that had torn from your mouth was all he needed to be pushed over the edge, his cock twitching and spurting while hardly even being touched.

He was impressed, with both himself and you.

“God, dove, you did so well for me,” Keigo wiped the salt from his brow, ignoring his creamed pants to slip onto the couch and pull you into his arms.

You were half-lucid, sticky with sweat and arousal but you couldn’t find yourself to care. All you could fixate on was the feel of Keigo’s heat and the ruffle of his feathers as you settled into his lap.

Keigo pressed kisses against your temples and cheeks, positioning your thighs around his own and allowing you to sag into his chest.

You clung to him with everything you had as you spun down from your high.

He whispered little affections to you, small praises and love for doing so ‘well for him’ and ‘how good you took it, took it all’.

A few of his feathers came and went carrying a bowl of fruit, chilled and cut up into bite-sized pieces.

From your haze, Keigo pressed a piece of sweetness to your lips.

“Eat, love, take it,” He purred as you opened your mouth just enough for the fruit to slip in. You chewed slowly, focusing on the flavor and texture before swallowing.

The spare drool that slipped from the corner of your mouth was quickly scooped up by Keigo’s thumb, gathered and popped into his own mouth.

His feathers rippled.

“I feel a lot better,” You slurred into the crook of his neck. “Thank you.”

Keigo chuckled, something high and light that made your guts turn anew. His hand brushed over the meat of your ass, bruised and covered in welts, “You’re welcome, but...”

His touch hurt, but in the best way.

A pleasant reminder.

“How does this feel?”

“Painful, but good,” You hummed, opening your mouth for another piece of fruit. The tartness of the bite brought you closer to lucidity. “You’re too good to me, you know.”

“Flattery, when you’re this fucked out? I’m impressed,” Keigo pulled you closer by the small of your back. “Rest for a little bit, then I’ll clean us up, sound good?”

“Very,” You circled your arms around him, locking your hands just below his wings. “But... ‘us’?”

“I might’ve nutted. Maybe.”

You snorted, but you were quickly quieted by another piece of sweetness and plenty of distracting affection.

Desperately needed, by both you.

....

thank you for reading!!! check out my links (ko-fi, ao3, and twitter!!)

#hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo x reader #hawks imagines #takami keigo #hawks smut #salem writes #enjoy #mha x reader #mha smut #my hero academia #bnha #tw daddy kink

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chantalstacys · 2 years ago

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What books have you been reading lately? I love romance novels too 🙈 they’re so fun

romance novels are fun!!! i just started reading them this year, before i pretty much only read biographies and classic fiction. everyone always told me that romance novels were supposed to be trashy and stupid but i’ve been enjoying them ☺️ so whatever to them

anyway! you can look at my books tag for other books i’ve read this year but here’s what i read since my last update~~

♡ the seven husbands of evelyn hugo (women’s fiction) i almost loved this one! i loved the story and i loved reading an old hollywood themed book but the writing honestly felt so dry, which was a shame because i really wanted to feel more invested in it. i really wasn’t that attached to anybody and honestly the twist didn’t really phase me

♡ finally read flowers for algernon and yes tears were shed and yes felt numb when i finished it and no i don’t want to talk about it. it was great and it moved me and frustrated me and i’m leaving it at that

♡ from the mixed up files of mrs. basil e. frankweiler (children’s/YA) omg the CUTEST and funniest book i've read in a long time. this is what i needed after flowers. it truly spoke to my inner child because i definitely had (have?) fantasies of running away and living in a museum

♡ i’m currently finishing up how to fake it in hollywood (romance) and the first half was good but now i’m just trying to finish it and move on. BUT the spice is good lol. if you want to read a hollywood romance, funny you should ask is definitely the one i’d recommend first!!!

♡ things we never got over by lucy score (romance) it wasn’t what i thought it was going to be! from the cover art i thought it would be weepy and sappy but it was actually very fun and sexy and i was really charmed by it! it’s super long (perhaps longer than it needed to be) but i read it in two days

♡ tessa bailey!! i read it happened one summer, hook line and sinker (both romance) and my killer vacation (romance, mystery). IHOS had the best story and characters and spice by FAR. they’re all cute, casual reads and they feel like watching a movie

♡ DREAMLAND BILLIONAIRES BY LAUREN ASHER (both romance again lol) oh my god, the disney world fantasies of my dreams. terms and conditions was good (i love a good fake relationship) but the fine print is the one. it has a sexy, broody, secret artist “dreamland” (disneyland) heir, a cute girl that reads regency romance, a disney park date i read twice in a row, fantastic smut and it’s mostly set in a pretend disney world, so i felt like it was written just for me. i’m very excited for the last one to come out next year

anyway! that’s mostly what i’ve been reading lately. and now i’m really looking forward to my fall list 🍂 and i’m branching out a little more this season!

#ask #books

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datawyrms · 3 years ago

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snap

It is The Day I post my Invisobang fic! it was a wild ride to write everything and not post. This is actually the second fic I did, as the first fell into my pit of ‘i hate it now’ and will sit in limbo for the rest of eternity. I teamed up with Spirit ( @ghostportals ), who has done some accompanying art! That, and Red @redead-red saved my bacon by doing some betaing last moment, so tell em they’re great too. Hope you’re all enjoying the flood of finished fics and art this week! Only the first chapter is here, the rest is posted on my Ao3 and complete. hope you enjoy!

One careless fall changed Danny's life forever. He was kind of hoping one fall like that was enough for any lifetime. Clearly fate disagreed.

It's fine though! He's got this. He's fine. He can totally explain why he ran off with his own body to mom and dad.

The stairs had always been a little too steep, a titch too narrow, but he was used to them. Jazz worried too much- the whole Fenton family knew how to take them two steps at a time. He wasn’t going to admit she might have a point just because he’d slipped one time. He wished there was a railing to catch himself with- it would have spared him some of the pain of his head knocking on the stair.

It didn’t hurt that much. Plenty of ghosts hit harder, and far more frequently.

“Took a bit of a spill eh, Danno?”

Great, dad saw him slip like he was three again. He wanted to speak, wave his behemoth of a father off before he got tangled up in some long lecture about whatever they were working on down here. Just had to sit up.

He was a little stunned or something. All those late nights made his limbs rebel when he wanted them to hurry up. Come on, before he tries to help and accidentally shaves his hair off with some anti-ghost stepladder or something.

His arms stubbornly rejected his internal horror story. His attempt to say ‘I’m fine’ was more a gurgle than anything. Way to go, Fenton. Do everything to get dad to worry! Really using those genius genes. Jazz probably stole his anyway, or they got fried in the accident. Come on! A bit of self berating should have him sitting bolt upright by now. Maybe his arm twitched. He felt something move, anyway. More like a muscle spasm.

“Danny? You okay?” The large man came closer, his usual jog slowed.

Of course he’s fine. He could see dad, sort of. He totally moved his eyes to see him better, even. Stupid ghost powers were just acting up. It’s okay, just give me a second to stand up. You’re worrying over nothing.

Jack had already made it over, crouching to get a better look at his fallen son. Like he was trying to look smaller or something with how carefully he was moving. Where was all that slow, ginger movement when he was driving? Or trying to tell them about some new invention that might burn off your eyebrows?

I’m fine, dad. He couldn’t get the words to come out, but he was just fine. He really didn’t like the strange look on his father’s face. After all, ‘Jack Fenton doesn’t know the meaning of the word fear’ or whatever random thing he felt like shouting when chasing after entities from another dimension. Come on dad, stop looking like that. It was creeping him out. Moving should be easy, a snap, but part of him didn’t feel like doing it. Apparently an important part? He could visualize exactly what to do, but he wasn’t sitting up. He swore he could feel his muscles clenching but not finishing the movement. Maybe they were testing something down here that just made all the ectoplasm hiding inside him take a nap. His ectoplasm was so fired after this.

“Can you look at me kiddo?”

Coaxing him. This was weird. Why wasn’t he just hauling him off the floor and laughing about how clumsy he was at his age too? Looking at him was easy. Pretty hard to miss him, with all the bright orange.

“Maddie? Can you come over here?” His question was strangely stilted, not much of a bellow.

Dad was going to get the wrong idea because his body didn’t want to cooperate. Great. Fantastic. He could feel the warmth in his chest, the sign his heart was still going. He was just fine, just a bit inconvenienced at the moment. Why couldn’t dad just be dad and do something dumb like pick him up with one hand while sounding way too excited about some new tool that he built?

“What’s wrong?” His mom said, her footsteps doing the same thing dad’s had. Speed that suddenly cut down to almost nothing. “Danny, did you hit your head?”

“I think he might have, he’s not responding. I didn’t want to try to move him-“

“You did great Jack, it’s okay.”

Gross. He hoped they didn’t get caught up in one of their lovey dovey circles while he was stuck trying to get his stupid legs to remember how to do things. He was responding! He groaned, and he definitely twitched a bit. Weren’t they paying attention? He tried again, a bit more forcefully and ignoring the pang in his neck. More of a jolt from someone with too much static cling than actual pain, really.

“Should I call 911? He isn’t moving! He just stayed there- didn’t even act all tough for his old man!”

Jack was panicking. Dad was panicking. Over nothing! Why wasn’t mom distracting him with fudge or some random study? No one was being normal today. Danny shuddered, he knew he did, it went with the pulse under his skin.

“That’d be great sweetie, just stay close.”

“In case you need my big strong arms to help carry him, right?”

“Just in case.” She wasn’t wearing the hood of her jumpsuit, at least.

It didn’t make it more comfortable when she crouched down, biting her lip and staring at him. Like this was concerning. It was the opposite of that, he was a klutz, a gangly teenager, it was normal for him to be a bit banged up. This shouldn’t concern her, or anyone. The only reason it bugged him was the not being able to move right now nonsense.

“You aware in there sweetie?” she said, rather loudly and clapping near his ear.

Yes I am, but I can’t tell you. Maybe he could focus on taking a breath and it would kick off whatever turned off his mind to body connection. Had he done anything strange before coming down here? Not really. He could absolutely feel her digging her nails into his earlobe though, ow! More motivation to move, but something wasn’t getting across. Maybe he was getting a bit freaked out about it too. Only because of his parents being weird. He was fine, he had to be fine. It was nothing, less than nothing.

“I’m just going to make sure he’s still breathing Jack, do you have anyone on the line yet?”

A loud response, but not to her question. “No it’s not a ghost emergency! It’s a human emergency!”

Of course he was breathing. He couldn’t look that bad from such a small fall. Just breathe out the words ‘Hey mom, personal space’ and they’d laugh and it’d be nothing. All this fussing was making his skin crawl but of course he had to have ‘special ghost freezing up’. Was it his ice powers? Like he could get his powers being snarky like that, appreciated it in a twisted sort of way- but it would be better around people who wouldn’t assume the worst? Like anyone else. Even Dash.

“Tell the operator he isn’t breathing.” Maddie’s voice was cold and controlled, even as she went back to biting her lip right after.

He was totally breathing. He could feel the air that ran in and out of his lungs, the swell and fall that other ghosts knew as a weak point, a way to slow him down. He knew what being doubled over, air shoved right out of him from a harsh blow felt like, how it felt like the portal again. Throat twitching, body heaving and trying to regain what it lost. The darkness that bit at the edges of his vision as every nerve went screaming You’re Dying . Hated that feeling, shook the ghosts who did that hard once they were in a thermos. This was nothing like that.

“He isn’t breathing, you need to hurry! My wife knows CPR- just tell them to hurry this is my son , please”

Yelling to hide the quaver in his voice. Like a kicked puppy yelping. It sounded so wrong. This was going to be so awkward after. They’d just...pretend this never happened, right? That’d be for the best. No, he was going to get grounded forever for some ‘dumb prank’, since he was fine and worried them so much. Which didn’t seem too bad if it stopped all of...this.

He moved a little. A toe, he was pretty sure. More notably was his mother, carefully getting him off the uneven stair to be flat on his back. Trying to keep his head from moving, and she couldn’t see he was looking at her? When she was this close? Too busy trying to be calm. Who could be busy enough to think he wasn’t breathing or tracking with his eyes? Another twitch, another inward curse that he couldn’t get back in control.

“Just hold on, help is coming.” She said, but the half ghost couldn’t tell who she meant, exactly. Him, dad or herself? Either way the quiet remark did not prepare him for the sheer force slammed into his crest. Like she wanted to slam right through him! Was it so much to ask that his parents stop nearly killing him by trying to help? Just try moving again and everything will be fine.

He couldn’t keep the mental mantra up when he heard- when he felt his ribs crack from the pointless force. She was killing him, he didn’t need help breathing, he had to get it through to them no matter how much his body buzzed and resisted his need to move. He had to focus and push through it, ignoring how cold and wrong it felt, how it seemed like he was squirming free of something that didn’t want him to go.

Her bone crushing assault stopped once he got his arm up, not even needing to touch her before she froze. The fear was wrong, out of place so he redoubled his efforts, twisting and struggling against himself, the sticky mass that wasn’t letting him act or speak to calm them down.

The phone hit the floor. He heard it. So why didn’t dad say anything? Danny twisted, wanting to make sure he was okay. Still stuck. At least he had a hand free and most of an arm, the edges of his fingers tracing the tiles of the floor. He could brace himself that way, pushing down hard to try and jar his shoulder loose. He could hear air moving, like a harsh breath out. Good- breathing was good. Even when it sounded so harsh and low.

“Jack- are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Maddie moved back, giving him the space he wanted ever since she’d cracked his ribs. They still stung under his skin, hissing at him to keep his parents away before he managed to get even more injuries over something so silly.

“I’m not sure what we’re seeing.” The phone remained on the floor.

That didn’t seem right. He’d sat up, mostly. Half sat up, propped up with an arm. Still mostly stuck and uncomfortable, the snapping and crackling sensation still clinging to his free shoulder. Really, he felt worse than how he started. at least there wasn’t pain in ‘hah my body is playing freeze tag without me’ land. The pulling sensation made his head ache and vision swim to the point he wasn’t actually sure if he was still looking at the ceiling or not. He couldn’t go back to just being frozen though, that’d suck. So just convince the rest of himself to get up. No problem!

Were lies in his head always this unconvincing? It felt like yanking himself free of a too sticky slime, strands clinging and tugging back until they finally snapped, parts still stuck but free of the main mass. At least ectoplasm had the decency not to stretch when you got drenched in it most of the time. Come on, focus and keep it together. He let out a wheeze as the last stubborn strands snapped, ignoring how loud it sounded to properly reorient himself.

Sitting up, properly, good! Parents staring with weird, half horrified expressions: bad. Very, very bad.

“I’m okay, I just fell.” Danny spoke, he could speak properly again. So why? “Sorry for scaring you guys?” He tried again, trying to ignore the first thought across his mind.

They kept staring. Maddie seemed to be recovering, shoulders starting to relax, but she seemed to be reaching for her belt.

He didn’t sound right. No, that wasn’t quite right, he just sounded wrong for Danny Fenton. Who he should be right now, he hadn’t been able to talk, let alone go ghost. This probably looked really, really bad. How had he switched, anyway?

Mom was reaching for a gun, wasn’t she? Crud. Now he regretted talking at all, how was he going to explain why Danny Phantom was treating two ghost hunters like his parents? Or how he managed to look like their kid. Maybe he could change back and convince them they were seeing things?

Yeah no, that was way too dumb.

“Wait.” Jack rested a hand on his wife’s shoulder, causing her to stop pulling the weapon. He wasn’t looking at the ghost at all, just her. Maddie remained stiff, not able to ignore the glowing kid on her floor.

Okay...dad was usually the gung ho one. Maybe he could get away with this? Danny tried to get a better grip on the situation. Felt a new pain, sharp and cold in his throat. Deep green scars clashed against his white gloves and ran all across his jumpsuit, glow intensifying as the panic choked him into silence. Fresh and angry like back- back before he managed to stumble out of the portal when he died when the accident happened.

With his human arms just as scared below them, still against the tile. The damage looked old, half scabbed over with only a dull glow deep in the death marks wounds. His arms attached to the rest of his body- that he was half out of.

Why? How was his body still and silent while he was sitting and looking at it. He’s cold. His body is cold. It isn’t breathing there isn’t some other facet of his personality sitting behind the dull blue eyes. This isn’t how it works! If he splits, it’s just temporary, he can fix it but his other half- corpse is wrong.

The pulling and clinging at his legs doesn’t feel like slime anymore. Rotting flesh that wants to drag him back, smother him in a cloying warmth that will only remind him why it burned, how it hurt. He had to move, he couldn’t stay half like this, it would get better once it wasn’t like this.

It didn’t want to let go as he tried to pull away, ectoplasm getting snagged on every nerve and muscle fiber, each pause a reminder of the shock and pain of his end that day.

He knew he screamed when he pulled free and slammed into the wall, furious green scars still marring his jumpsuit where there should be none.

What would Mom and Dad think?

No no no no no. He spotted movement from them and acted. He couldn’t let his mom break his body more, or look at it too closely. Dad couldn’t see what happened! This was fine, he could fix this!

He grabbed his corpse and fled through the wall.

#Danny Phantom #invisobang #invisobang 2021 #jack fenton #Maddie Fenton #there are a lot of way better fics made for this #but hopefully you'll enjoy mine too

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