#he took my hands into his and he looked me deep in my. big alien ass eyes and said this to me

[shot-by-cupid]

I have posted this before but this deleted scene is literally everything to me and I hold it so close to my heart you have no idea

Like. He’s such a great guy it actually makes me sick. It’s like. Everything he does is so genuine and sweet and it’s just. He’s so soft spoken here it makes me dizzy. He’s so gentle and caring and UGH. My cheeks are red I am screaming into my pillow I am crying and kicking my feet. He’s so perfect he’s literally my everything.

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober Day 1: Xenophilia/Oviposition

Warnings: 18+ smut, dry humping, dirty talk about alien sex

Boyfriend!Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie tells you why alien sex is so much better. Maybe he can even show you.

A/N: Decided to join kinktober fun because why not so I’ll be posting to catch up . Posting something risky and weird on the main so lemme know what yall think

You’ve known Eddie to be quite stranger ever since the day you met. It was evident considering the differences in your friend circles. He is a pop culture nerd and you’re the popular cheerleader. Somehow, his weird vibes were able to pull you in, unafraid of the odd rumors associated with him. Hell, you took it as a challenge then. But you’d soon come to fall in love with one another, appreciating the differences as it made teaching each other all the more exciting.

But you’d say the best part of being with Eddie is that neither of you had to hide any of your most intimate and sometimes down-right bizarre secrets from one another.

Like when Eddie learned of your secretly nerdy enjoyment of stargazing and tracking celestial events, he’d purchased a telescope for you where he’d spent the night listening to you explain away the galaxy. And like as of now, when you learned of your boyfriend’s alien sex fantasies while watching the new Alien movie.

You’d noticed the way he shifted in his seat during the movie, adjusting himself in his jeans. You playfully questioned him and he was a mess of stutters and stammers.

“It’s fucked, I know,” He says, avoiding your eyes and twisting a lone ring around his thick finger. “Bet you think I’m a real fucking freak.”

“I mean, I do think you’re a freak,” You say, bringing his face back up to yours. “But that’s exactly what I like. So…if you could have alien sex…how exactly does that work?”

“W-well, there are like some sex toys to make it happen.”

“And the whole egg implanting thing? Is that like when you creampie?” You ask excitedly.

His cheeks grow redder, coughing in embarrassment. “No—So like there are these gelatin egg kits that you can purchase at a sex shop. And they’d get deposited inside through sex and would eventually melt inside you—o-or any person for that matter not just you, of course. I’ll just use us as an example for clarification. But it’s only a fake scenario. Totally not real. For shit and giggles. Hypothe—

“I get it, babe,” You impatiently interrupt. “Get on with it.”

“Right,” He swallows. “So, imagine me wearing this cock sleeve thing that’ll look pretty gnarly because it’ll look kind of like a blue tentacle with all these ridges and bumps—

You raise an eyebrow, teasing. “Oddly specific.”

“Y-Yeah but it’s only to help with the visuals. Not because I have one. Psssh, what?” He says with a anxious high-pitched tone, eyes shifting side to side.

“Mhm,” You say, moving from your spot on the couch to sit in his lap. “Anyway, so back to you naked and wearing that little toy. Will the gelatin eggs be in it already?”

“They would. Then, I’d have to lube up the toy so you can take it. I’d get real nice and slick to the point where it’s dripping like slime just so we’re on the safe side.” He says, letting his hands glide up your thigh, lifting your skirt a little higher.

“Ooo, it’s that big?” You gasp, rocking back and forth against his growing erection. Every now and then, the tip would slip either between your clothed wet core or your soft thighs.

“Uh-huh,” His face in your neck, planting light kisses. “Or maybe you’re just that tight.” He emphasizes the last word while gripping and kneading the inner fat of your thighs.

“Then, what happens?” You mewl.

“Then, I’d stick it deep, deep, deep inside you.” He groans into your ear.

“Would you still be able to feel my warm walls around you? Feel clenching around you so you’d stay inside me?”

“That toy is specifically meant to give you pleasure,” He breathes hotly. “No, I won’t get to feel your tight, wet pussy directly around me. But I’d get pleasure enough seeing your face when I plant my seeds in you. You’re gonna take it all, aren’t you, babygirl?”

“Yes, fuck, why do I want that so badly?” You take his hand to place over one breast. Through the thin fabric of your shirt and bra, he quickly locates your pebbled nipple and plucks at it repeatedly.

“Because I just taught you how great monster sex can be.” His teeth sinks into your earlobe.

“You mean there’s more than just alien sex?”

“Mhm, I can show you.” He says, loving that he’s corrupting a girl like yourself.

“Yes, please, master. Show me more.”

[mindmelter]

Offspring

I am standing on the side of the bed as I watch my neighbor's youngest son, Devon, wake up his equally hot dad by sticking his tongue inside his mouth. Mr. Bennett struggles and shakes his body as his alien-possessed son infects him with the alien parasite.

Mr. Bennett is fit, but he doesn't have a chance against his much more muscular youngest son. Seeing my hot neighbor's son helping me turn his dad into an alien host is getting me so hard! I pull down Mr. Bennett's shorts so I can finally see his bulge from closer. His bulge is as big as I was expecting, and the fact he is wearing white underwear makes it a lot hotter, the urge to sniff that man's bulge grows stronger at each passing second that I stare at it.

While I hear the slurping noises coming from their passionate "kiss" I bury my face in Daddy Bennett's bulge and take a deep sniff while I hear the wet sounds of the parasite forcing its way down his throat.

With my face still buried in his cock and balls, I look up and catch a glimpse of the parasite sliding from Devon to his dad's mouth; The snake-like parasite is quite long and very thick, so thick that Mr. Bennett's throat bloats with the intrusion. I bury my face even deeper in his massive bulge, licking it over the fabric. I can't wait to have them both as my alien-possessed sex slaves, I think to myself.

Devon finally detaches his mouth from his dad and I watch the parasite's tail wriggle and disappear inside Mr. Bennett. I can't hold it any longer and pull down his underwear. I look in awe at how beautiful Mr. Bennett's cock and balls are; his balls are huge and heavy, and even while soft, his cock is big and thick, but he won't be soft for much longer. I took his big cock into my mouth and started to feel the member grow to its full length. Devon just continues standing on the side with the same slack and empty face he has since he was taken over, totally unbothered by the fact I'm blowing his dad.

With my mouth full of Mr. Bennett's cock, I have a great view of his stomach, and I witness something amazing happen; his belly starts to bloat, and I can see what is obviously the parasite wriggling inside him, doing something to him. I put my hand on top of his stomach and felt the alien moving inside.

I had seen the same thing happen with Devon when I put the parasite in his agape mouth while he was sleeping on the couch downstairs. But after a few minutes, his belly went back to normal, and he stood up with a blank facial expression; he didn't say anything and just stood up and took the stairs toward his dad's bedroom. I followed right behind him.

Now that the parasite has left Devon, he is left motionless like a robot without battery. I see Mr. Bennett's stomach slowly going back to normal and he finally wakes up, sitting on the bed while I am still latching on his cock. I feel his hand on the back of my hair, and he gently pulls me away; he has the same empty look on his face that Devon has. And without saying a word, Mr. Bennett gets off the bed and kneels in front of Devon, pulls down his shorts, and takes his son's cock into his mouth.

The sight is nothing but breathtaking. After a few seconds of blowing Devon, he stands up, now both of them sporting a hard-on. Mr. Bennett stands close to his son, close enough for their cocks to be aiming at one another. Leaving only a few inches apart from each cock head. Then what happens next is something I will never forget. A small black parasite—a lot thinner and smaller than the one I helped inside Devon—crawls out of Mr. Bennett's piss slit and makes its way inside Devon's cock.

Both of their eyes roll back and they shook while still standing, the parasite connecting them both by their cocks. When the tail disappears inside Devon's slit, Devon finally comes back to life; though 'life' might not be the right word since he still has the same blank expression, at least he is moving again. Devon and Mr. Bennett stare directly at each other for a few seconds, then they smile at each other—only those smiles were nothing but human.

Mr. Bennett slowly raises a hand, and Devon mimics him; then Mr. Bennett tilts his head, and Devon does the same, they continue going on like this for a while. I'm not sure what is happening; it's like they are connecting somehow. Whatever that is, it's an eerie sight, I must admit.

After playing that game for a few more minutes, they walk out of the room without saying a word, with Mr. Bennett leading the way. Their cocks swung and throbbed with each step, and I was no different.

Mr. Bennett stops in front of a room and slowly opens the door; inside is his oldest son, Matt, who is sleeping peacefully in only his underwear.

Matt is as hot as his dad and younger brother, with him being the most muscular of the three. Mr. Bennett and Devon walk toward him, but only Mr. Bennett starts jerking off over Matt's sleeping body; soon, he shoots a tiny black parasite from his cock, identical to the one he infected Devon with.

The tiny parasite crawled towards Matt's crotch and disappeared inside his grey underwear. I watch Matt suddenly squirm on the bed and grunt in discomfort; The way his muscles flexed during the takeover was making me leak.

When Matt woke up, he was already one of them. He stood up with an emotionless face and stared at his dad and brother; those two still had creepy smiles on their faces; seeing that, Matt also started smiling.

I really don't get the smiling thing, do they think that would make them look more human?

Still smiling, Mr. Bennett raised his right hand and waved at Matt. "Good morning, Matt." He says. It is the first time I hear the alien speak with his vessel, and he sounds just like you would expect: robotic and emotionless.

"God morning Dad," Matt replies, the smile never leaving their faces.

"Did you sleep well, son?" Mr. Bennet asks naturally, as if he isn't naked with his cock throbbing in front of both his sons.

"I slept wonderful, Dad."

"Good morning Matt, did you sleep well, my older brother?" Devon asks, his tone of voice no different than his dad and brother. There is a long silent pause, and then Devon asks again, "Good morning Matt, did you sleep well, my older brother?"

"Good morning younger brother. I slept wonderful," Matt responds and then they just keep smiling at each other like idiots. Everything looks and sounds so creepy and surreal, it's like watching aliens playing with human dolls about how they think human interactions are.

I decide to try something risky, so I step into their circle and the three of them look at me in sync, their blank eyes confused as they tried to study my presence.

I clear my throat and wave at them. "Hi, I'm the neighbor, I'm the one who let those parasitic aliens turn you three into brainless hosts."

"Oh, Welcome neighbor," Mr. Bennett says, waving back at me.

"Good morning Neighbor," Matt says, out of nowhere.

They didn't acknowledge anything I said; It's like they don't understand what I say and just mimic anything they find in their host's memories.

Either way, it was hot to see these three hunks acting like brainless idiots. I pull down my shorts and start jerking off in front of them; as I was expecting, each one started to mimic me. Mr. Bennett is the first to grab his cock and start to stroke, his sons, seeing their dad—leader—start mimicking him. Now, the four of us are jerking off, our strokes are so in sync that it feels like I'm stroking in front of a mirror. They mimicked even my moans, soon I started to cum, and so did they.

"This is going to be so much fun," I moan.

"This is going to be so much fun," they say.

[ckret2]

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!)

[elysianightsss]

La da de da viking Price for the win🛡️🌺

Your heavy snow boots trudged through the thick mounds of pure white snow, the freezing breeze was pinching and nipping at your cheeks. The cold had began to hurt your nose as you breathed, the back of your throat dry. Trying your hardest to keep warm, you shove your chin and mouth further into the top of your coat and breathe out hot air.

You only wanted to hunt for food and go back home, but seeing as you couldn’t find any animals near your little cabin, you had to venture elsewhere for the hunt. Something you annoyingly regretted the further away from home you got.

An exaggerated sigh left you for the twentieth time today as you knelt down on the ground feeling the snow start to soak into the material of your trousers. Pulling your bow off of your body and an arrow from the quiver that was strapped to your back. You drew back the string of your bow, holding the arrow steadily in place.

Closing your eyes, you waited. Listening oh so carefully, for anything. The sound of any animal to make itself known to you. A while passed, all you could hear was the soft wind and a nearby steam trickling quietly.

Until the snort of a deer had your eyes shooting open and your weapon aiming at the creature. Exhaling slowly, you let go, the arrow whipping through the air heading straight for the unknowing animal but ultimately hitting a different target. A huge gasp left you as you watched the arrow go straight into the chest of a man, the deer snorted before running off.

You grunted annoyed and dropped everything to run to the injured man. Your eyes set upon his figure. Large and strong, you recon if you’d hit anywhere else on him that’d he probably wouldn’t have collapsed. Probably would have grabbed the end of the arrow with his big sturdy hands and pulled it straight out like nothing happened. Probably.

The realisation started to set in the more you stared at him, you just shot a man. “Oh my, I’m…I’m so sorry!” You panicked falling to your knees next to him where he was on the ground. His blue eyes meeting yours, looking at you as though you were an alien. His nostrils flared as he quietly grunted, feeling the pain begin to spread throughout his chest and body.

“I was hunting and….and you…y-you stepped in front of the deer. I’m so sorry.” Your hands hovers over his injured while your mind began to become frantic with how to proceed. You eyed the expensive leather that graced his bulky figure. Wrapping around every muscle eagerly. The fur cloak that was spread around him, clearly from a hunt.

It did little to hide the tattoos on his arms. Further up chainmail covered his shoulders proving how sharp you’d made your arrows for it to pierce the chainmail that presumably sat below his tunic and leather. You took note of his face better now, thin lips almost covered by a bushy moustache all connected with thick mutton chops and a full, long beard that caught your attention a little too much.

“Are ya’ done ogling me lass?” He gritted his teeth, wrapping his hand around the arrow and yanking it out. He groaned loudly, deep and rough just like his voice when he spoke. It sent shivers through your body in an unholy way. Nothing like you’d ever felt before.

“Are you a royal from the mainland?” You asked, worry underlining your question.

He bellowed at that, “Ne’er erd’ that one before.” His laugh trailed off as he pressed his fingers into his wound and pulled them away watching the blood drip down his hand.

“My bag.” He was gesturing to the bag that lay a few meters over from where he was. You scrambled to grab it, desperately trying to pull it open. The leather satchel was medium size with about a hundred strings tying it shut.

“W-What do you need?” You were stumbling over your words as you took noticed of the blood that was seeping out of his wound and staining the snow beneath him.

The man grabbed your shaky hands in his and whispered “Breathe.” You listened hesitantly, taking a deep breath.

“Y’know I think I’m supposed to be reassuring you.” A breathless laugh leaving you sounding more like a scoff, he let out a chuckle his face scrunching up in pain.

“In the bag, the bottle with the red liquid.” Nodding quickly, you searched through the bag and pulled out the bottle, pulling the cork out with your teeth and looking at him for instructions. He took the glass container and poured it over his wound and drank the rest of it.

You watched as his heavy panting of pain began to level out. He soon sat up and looked at you curiously, “I’ve ne’er seen ye round these parts before.” He states though you’re pretty sure it was a question, you simply shrug and stand up. He followed suit, a shock jolting through you when he stands only to tower over you greatly.

“I, um really am sorry. It truly was an accident.” You wring your hands together before offering one of them to him. He looks surprised and you don’t blame him, you’re sure a woman has never made this gesture to him before.

“Svo fallegt,” he seemed to look over you for a moment then let his large hand wrap itself around yours with a shake, “S’okay.”You nodded letting go of his grip and making your way to pick up your bow and quiver.

“What’s ya name?” He asked suddenly feeling a wave of panic as he watched you walking away from him. You answered, waiting for his in return. “Price. John Price.”

Now where had you heard that name before?

[n0t-y0ur-piece-0f-cake]

Hiiiiii how are you? I wanted to ask if you could do a super spicey one shot where a male yautja ends up stalking a group of girls and having his way with them in various ways, one by one but then when he finally gets to the reader he ends favoring the reader more than the other girls and ends up breeding reader until the next morning and after that he decided she was gonna be his mate 😏

A night to remember

Summary: girls night out went absolutely wrong.

Fem reader x male yautja

Warnings: NSFW, omfg where do I start, uhhh, rape/noncon, breeding, alien in a rut, drugging, violence, death, implied forced pregnancy,,,

MDNI MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

For everyone else, read at own risk.

Not proof read, English isn't my first language and this was written at 1 am.

Authors note: my first reaction when I read that request was literally 🤨🫢🫣😈 I never thought I could be capable of writing this, but it helped me through my writers block, thx <3

Preparations were always hard. But the worse was long done. Now it was only make up that was left. Tonight's Friday night. The Friday night. Where me, Michelle and Tina finally got ready for our girls night out. We planned that date for so long - Prepared for so long. The parties theme at our local club was "warrior". So the girls and me obviously had to go all overboard. It didn't matter if we went overdressed or too hard. This was and is going to be some quality time. We had so much fun putting together our costumes. Even tho it was still obvious they were part dresses still.

Tina's get up was leaning more for a samurai. Shoulderpats, chest plate - yet still revealing, and a kimono type dress - also still revealing.

Michelle was more inspired by knights. Her dress was complement nicely by a chain top and some more sliver plates on her arms and legs. As well as a cute half helmet with a gracious yellow feather. Overall not too revealing, but the dress was still short enough to almost pop her butt out.

I on the other hand? I went for something more primal. Like a hunter. A hunter you'd see in a deep forest in the stone ages. I knew all the fur would bite me in the ass at the club, but it was worth it, of course it wasnt all fur. Just a big patch of fur over my shoulder. The rest? A sweet brown dress, showing off my thighs and what was still visible of my collarbone. I even went so far and got myself a necklace with sharp teeth and some Ambers. Not sure if either were real. It was second hand. I put on some last details for my make up. Painting some face markings.

We were now ready to go.

"Wait! Hold up", Tina basically shouted out, as Michelle grabbed her heels. We all looked at Tina. She held up her arms and looked at us with a devious smile.

"We have to get a shot in, just to celebrate"

Michelle shook her head. "Come on, Tina. It's not that pricey at the club."

I looked between the two. Sighing with a smile: "But we've got to celebrate. Now that Tina's moving away."

Tina jumped up, like a kid, begging over and over. "Pleaaaaase - for me? This once, Michelle?"

Michelle was never fond of drinking before hand. Drinking in general even, only on special occasions.

Michelle places her heels back down. Giving up, for Tina's sake. Tina giggled and turned back to the kitchen. Smacking three shot glasses on the table like she's a bartender. A samurai bartender. Michelle and I smirked with Tina. When she pulled put her vodka, our eyes widen. This really was a special occasion. It was her 10 Liter vodka bottle, that she never opened. That shit cost her a fortune.

We watched as Tina opened the bottle, it emitted a cracking sound. Yes. Freshly open. It was untouched. Until now. She carefully shifted the bottle, trying to hit the shot glasses. It already made her look like she was drunk, spilling the vodka left and right. We all giggled. Tina let out a more nervous one. I couldn't watch her struggle any longer. So I held the two glasses up to the bottles head. Making it easier to pour. Michelle took the last glass and also then held it under the head. Now all three were full and each placed in a hand. We looked at each other.

"To Tina", Michelle said, holding up the small glass up and to our middle.

"To Tina." We all said out like a record. Drinking it in one go. Nothing at first. But then a weird taste emerged. I wasn't really used to pure vodka. Michelle, not at all. She coughed. But quickly swallowed her cough as quick as it came. We all chuckled together again.

"I could go for another one... now that it's open...", the bottle owner said, swaying her hip from side to side.

"No." It came out like a choir from us.

"We gotta get there before 8, otherwise, who knows how full it'll be tonight", I said, already going for the small hallway to grab my heels. Tina soon following with Michelle.

The streets were quiet. Some passerbys still on their way to wherever. We had to pass through a small patch of forest. It was lit. Michelle would have driven. If she wouldn't have drunk something. Michelle struggled in her highheels. Almost tripping every meter due to the uneven ground. So me and Tina went to each of her side. Supporting her. We finally reached the club. A big snake already formed upfront.

Tina scoffed. "Great. Are we too late already? It's not even 8 yet."

As we approached I looked at the snake of people. They didn't move at all. As we stood there at the end now too, I noticed that they didn't even open up yet. A quick glance at my phone showed me, that it was just 7:55. "We're not late, we're even too early-"

I was cut off by Michelle pointing out the variety of costumes. Tina joining in. I looked up. Yes. We were definitely not overdressed. We fit right in.

"This one's definitely a cosplayer", Michelle said.

"A good one at that", Tina chuckled. I turned my head. Looking at who they were talking about. A woman, must be around our age. She didn't dress revealing at all. It was a full set of armor. Maybe that was foam. Who knows.

I chuckled out: "Are we underdressed?"

We all laughed at that.

Finally it was time. And exactly on the clock, the security guy finally let the people in. Another one arrived, helping out, due to the long snake. He must have been waiting anyways.

After a good 15 minutes, we were up. Showing our ID, the insides of our small bags, pockets. I was good to go. Michelle too. "That's gonna be a great night", said one of the security guards as he checked Tina's matching bag. Giving it her back, she smiled at him. She was also good to go.

We turned to her. Confused. She caught on to our mimics. "Oh. Just a couple of bucks."

Inside the party hasn't fully started. No one was yet on the dance floor. More like trying to get settled and drunk enough to try and dance. We grabbed a table. Looking over the room. After some talk about Tina's plans for her new apartment she got silent. We were silent. We already told her so many times that we'll miss her. She knows that. I hope she knows that.

"I'll be right back"

She said. Turning away.

"Where are you going?", I asked her. Having to talk louder due to the booming music and her now being a bit further away.

She mouthed something that neither me or Michelle heard. Michelle shrugged. I looked around again.

"Well. Guess I should leave this shithole too, like Tina."

Michelle furrowed her eyebrows at my comment. "No you won't. Who am I gonna ball my eyes out with at the McDonalds in the drive in, after I had another shitty relationship?"

I look at Michelle surprised with a smirk. "So you admit your ex was a douche?" She rolls her eyes. Not saying another word about that topic: "just don't leave. It's already enough that Steelheaded-Tina is moving away."

Speaking of her, she finally returns. With three neon green, toxic, probably so unhealthy cocktails in her hands. She places them down in the middle of the table. A smirk so wide it's almost unsettling. It's so obvious that she really wants this night to be great. We start sipping on them. Talking about God knows what. Eventually we decided to make our way to the dance floor. Tina wasn't quite done with her drink yet. Still half way. Michelle and I already ready to go.

"Guys wait-", Michelle said, "I'll make a break for the bathroom, Tina, you better zip that unholy brewery up so we can dance after."

I look at Michelle, worried. "Want me to tag along?" Michelle shook her head. "Nah, I'm good."

With that she left. A man and a woman approached us, not long after. They started talking to me and Tina. The man seemed especially interested in Tina.

The woman turned to me. Leaning in closer to my ear after I couldn't understand her first try to talk to me.

"Do you have a tampon?" "Oh yeah"

I said. I always had one. Especially at a party. You never know. I open my bag, searching for it, in the corner of my eye, I spotted how Tina and the guy faced the dance floor. The guys hand on the table. I looked back at the now found tampon and gave it to her. She thanked me. Turning away to reach the bathroom. I looked back at Tina and the guy. They now faced each other again. He was obviously flirting, judging by his face and Tina's reactions. I couldn't hear them at all. It was too loud.

Michelle came back. Rolling her eyes at Tina and her new found partner for tonight. She was as amused as me. But deep down we were both still worried. The guy invited Tina to dance. She said yes, as they both went to the dance floor, we quickly stepped on it too, keeping a close eye on Tina.

Everything went fine up until a bit later. We noticed Tina being more tipsy. More unfocused. I gave Michelle a frown, she also caught up to my sightings. As we looked back where Tina and the guy just were, we were surprised in to see it now vacated by another person.

Our dance came out a abrupt end. Quickly glancing around the room. We spotted them. He tried to pull Tina out of the club, to the exit. Through the mass we pushed ourself through. I was first who made it out, pulling Tina to me. She almost crashed down, if it weren't for Michelle coming up in the right moment to support her as well.

The guy looked at us. Obviously distraught by us intervening. "I just wanted to get her some air."

Michelle and I looked at him. "Yeah right, fuck off." I scoffed out loud. Security already noticing the situation.

"Everything okay?"

We turned our heads to the security guard. Explaing what happened. The guard pulled the guy aside. Telling us to still get Tina outside and let her sit with us until he investigated the guy.

Indeed we sat. On a bench. Waiting. Another security guard was nice enough to give us a bottle of water. Which we made Tina drink, even tho she said she doesn't need it. After a while the other guard came back out. With a sigh he tried to tell us in a most neutral way, that he found some knock out drops a hidden pouch of the guys costume. I tried to remember. Yes. When the guy was at our table, Tina wasn't don't with her drink yet. Only before she hit the dance floor she drank. Shit.

The guy tells us to get Tina home. Maybe call a cab. If her state worsens then maybe even a ambulance. He also told us he'll make sure the police knows about that guy, and he won't ever get in again. No matter the outcome of what the police says. He asked for our numbers, in case the police has any further questions in the coming days.

With that, we were let go.

We phoned the cabs. All of them said they couldn't make it in less than an hour. So we decided to walk ourselves. We'd be home faster. We were three people. But only one completely out of it. This was a quiet town, we told ourselves. The woods were lit, so it was okay, we told ourselves. We walked.

As we reached the woods, Michelle couldn't really walk and support Tina at the same time. So after a few meters she decided to take her heels off. We were slower. But steady. Tina was being held steady.

Now that we were slower, I took in the sounds of the night. The sounds of the dark forest. The chirping of the crickets. The owl hooing. And the slight fresh breeze pushing against us. At least my fur covered shoulder wasn't getting cold.

I looked at Michelle and Tina. Tina almost asleep, yet still walking. Michelle was exhausted. Her face a bit pained from the heel-less walking. I faced back at the path. I tried to focus on what was ahead of us. Our surroundings. But... was I getting deaf? I can still clearly hear Michelle and Tina walking. But I didn't hear any cricket. No owl. The wind was still there. I felt as if the air got heavier. The owl started hooing again. Maybe I was just tired, too unfocused.

We kept walking. Half way there. The lights in the woods path, were still lit. I glanced at my watch again, as Michelle also stopped walking, taking a break. 11pm. As I waited for Michelle to gather her strength again, Tina woke up slowly from her half asleep state. Being all giggly and seeming like a high person. I took a deep breath in. Focusing on my surroundings. We have to get her to safety. The crickets and owl were still at it. Then, a crack. Silence. I assumed the animals would start again, but, the owl took flight. Flying over and away from us. I felt the aid get heavy again. I felt nervous.

"Can we keep walking?" I said, almost stuttering. Almost begging Michelle. Tina jumped off and away from our arms. "Let's camp!"

Michelle rolled her eyes. "No Tina, we can camp at your place. Where we should be right now."

Tina wanted to say something, but we were cut off by a net being launched at me and Michelle. We were trapped. Tina chuckled as she looked at us. "Spidermaaaaaaan"

Michelle was the first one to try and rip open the net, followed by me. "Looksy! I see you, handsome!", Tina cooed, she was turned away from us, pointing into the tree line, where the net came from. Our eyes already somewhat used to the dark, spotted a shape. A man? Michelle now engaged in trying to rip apart the net even more. I looked at the figure, trying to see them better. But it moved all of the sudden, launching himself with a uncanny jump towards the free standing Tina. Snatching her right up. She was pulled into the bushes. We heard it all rustle. "Oooh- manly man-", Tina cooed again, the silhouette of them indicating, she's tracing his stomach.

I helped Michelle. The net seemed unbreakable. Our initial shock calming down slowly, making us finally able to talk. "Oh my fucking god- TINA RUN!"

Michelle yelled. She was in my vision, I couldn't see what she saw. What happened with Tina or who that was.

"That is not a man!" She kept yelling.

"But he's so-" a loud scream emitted from Tina. I pushed Michelle aside as we both yelled out for her. Who or whatever it was, I pushed Tina against a tree. It's form seeming to ram its hips into her. Her screams were parallel with its thrusts. I panicked. Digging under the net with my bare hands. Michelle joined in, but she mined away the dirt with her heel.

"Wait we have a phone-" I went to grab where my bag was. But the bag was outside the net. I leaned against it, trying to reach it, pulling the hard working Michelle with me. She was caught off guard by my sudden move, making her drop. "Hey!"

No matter how much I tried, I couldn't get to my bag. Even when I pushed so hard against the net, it left markings on me. Michelle caught on to me, reaching for her bag that she wore. Pulling out her phone. "THIS MOTHERFUCKER!" She starred at her screen. Empty. Trying to shut it on again, but it shut right back down before 911 could even be dialed. In a fit or more rage and desperation she smashed her phone on a rock. It shattered on the third try. She used the now smashed phone to cut the net. I took a shard as well and also tried to cut it. The yelling and screaming from Tina has stopped. Whatever it was, it wasn't human and it growled in relief.

I made it, I cut through. I quickly squeezed myself through the still somewhat smal gap I made. I ran, a trident was launched at me. Thankfully not piercing me as a tree was there, making me pinned up by the neck against it. My head was too big to try and squeeze my way out, and the trident was launched to deeply into the tree. Michelle had squeezed out too, running for me, trying to undo the trident holding me hostage. My eyes widen, the creature walked up to us. In the dim light, I myself saw, that that was no human. No animal. But a creature. Otherworldly. It wore what seemed to helmet and armor. I screamed out. Altering Michelle.

She tuned her head. I pushed her. "MICHELLE RUN-"

Michelle looked back at me, unsure. But I pushed her again. So she ran. The creature running after her now. Knowing I was pinned. I pushed against the trident again, my sweaty palms making it difficult to hold on. Or it was just launched to deep. Or both. I looked back at where Michelle had ran to. Only to see that the creature had caught up to her. Having her pinned down. She was gasping, crying. It had her pinned by the hip. I panicked again, as it kept smashing against her hips in a unholy force, making her cry and beg, I turned around, facing the tree and pushing my neck against the trident. Thank god it wasn't sharp. I pushed and pushed. It hurt so much, but I did it, I fell back, the top of the trident scraping against my exposed shoulder and arm. The furred shoulder was fine. I didn't mind the blood. I picked up the trident, looked into the direction Tina was, I couldn't belive my eyes.

She was dead. Her thigh, and neck bruised and bloodied. Only then realising, that her body and head didn't add up. It twisted her head and broke her neck.

I took my eyes off her, facing to Michelle and that... creature. I quickly ran towards them, at first it didn't seem to notice me. But as he did, shortly before I could react in time, he got up, I quickly jolted the trident to the side, falling a bit on Michelle. In the short second I laid on her, my head next to hers, it seemed she was still breathing, but barely.

The creature tried to get ahold of the trident. Grabbing it, and pulling it away from me. But I held it firmly. It started to slip from my hands as it used more force. So I quickly pulled my legs up and kicked against the tridents pole, stabbing it at it with my full force. It didn't hit him directly, but a spot that wasn't covered by its armor. It bled. Green. Neon green. As it tried to recover from its injury, I ran. Following the lights, I noticed heavy stomps behind me. They were quick. Close. I didn't dare look behind me. I knew it was... that.

I decided in a frenzy, that maybe jumping between trees might slow it down. So I went off rail, going zick zack between the trees. It seemed to help. For a while. I was still close to the paths lights, just enough so I could see. Just my luck that I spotted a axe in front of me. I abruptly stopped, grabbed it, and swung out. It jolted back, I almost hit it. Almost.

It roared out, angry, I flinched, but still held the axe steady. I once again tried to launch it at him, several times in a span of seconds. It nicked him twice. It growled and roared again, getting more and more agitated, out of no where it kicked me off my legs, making me fall down, before I could react, it grabbed my axe, as well as me, I hit a tree while I stood, a loud thuck boomed next to my ear. The axe was at my neck. I felt out a shaky gasp. I tried to look behind me, but my head was quickly pushed into the tree by its hand. The other toying with my underwear before ripping it off fully, with a single yank.

It got all close. Shoving my hips upwards and off the ground. It didn't matter to it, that it hurt me in that position. My spine felt over stretched. As well did my stomach and soon something else.

I felt its hips shuffle around, the armor plate in front of its crotch scooting over to so he could insert its otherworldly cock. No warning, no lube, no spit. That thing tore me apart with one shove. I screamed out, so high pitched you'd think I was in a Opera trying to destroy a glass. But my high pitch was soon replaced by deep screams, gasped screams. I was trying to get air. My one arm, I pressed against the tree, trying to not get myself killed whenever he pushed back in and could break my neck by this position he had me. The other was at his thigh, rather my fingertips, trying to prevent him from going to rough or too deep. Which was a lost cause. He, whatever he was, was too strong.

He kept pushing and pushing, his speed and force altered from time to time. Already making me see starts. I was already exhausted. Its grip on my head was now a tiny bit more gentle. Letting me look down. There I saw a green-white hued liquid. Which must be what I was thinking. It slowed. As it did so, my hip jolted from all that he's put me through. But to him, it must have been like invitation to keep going. He yanked me around. Facing him, still off the ground. He disposed of the axe by throwing it on the ground.

Before I could try to kick him, punch him, or anything, he held me up, in the air. No tree I could support myself on now. My hips hovered over his. And he let them crash down on his. I whimpered out again, it didn't hurt as much anymore. My fists were on his chest, I was still trying to push him away. As his hips kept rolling against mine, his clawed hand reached up to the brim of my dress, ripping it off. My boobs jiggling intensly with every deeper and faster thrust. I still pushed against him, he grabbed me by the waist and hip, his large hand being able to hold a, to him smaller creature, up like that. I saw the lit path upside down. He kept up his pace, even going rougher. Weirdly enough it felt so good, so good I let out a long restrained moan. No. I can't enjoy this.

But this feeling. Being stretched, filled out fully... the way he hits every spot. Another moan escaped my lips. My fists, now unclenched, grabbing at his stomach armor. His pace picked up. Thinking I'm trying to tell him to speed up. With that my body shivered throughout, I quickly sat myself up again on his hip, one of my hands grabbing at his shoulder. His monstrous pace not decreasing.

I leaned my head against the crook of his neck. The corners of my eyes turned black. And I screamed as I came undone on him. As I painted the green-white hued liquid on the ground with my own as well.

He still kept up the pace, not letting me recover. I insides clenched around his cock, I needed to recover but I couldn't. He wouldn't let me. He now placed his arms on my shoulder. Pinning me to him as he needed to get his rut out. I moaned and whimpered against his neck, everything went more dark by each push. I didn't recognise anything anymore. Just how he felt in me. How he pushed his seed deeper and further up. I didn't know how many times he came. How long he's been going at it.

I woke up again. I was dropped down somewhat gently on the ground. Sat up on the damn tree. I looked down at myself. As he stood before me. Whenever I moved a muscle, as I tried to get up, a big drop of his green-white cum emitted from my pussy. It even appeared that my stomach was more bloated. My thighs being covered in all that liquid. I looked up at him, behind his head, were the trees heads, exposing the now dawning morning sun. Its been that long!?

I watched as he picked up the axe, then me. Me? I was swung over his shoulder. My stomach pressed against it, making more cum blurt out. He walked deeper into the woods. I was too weak to do anything. Too exhausted. He stopped, I looked over his shoulders. My eyes widen at the sight. A otherworldly craft. A vehicle. A ufo? A ufo. And he carried me inside. Setting me down on a chair in the cockpit, putting on what seemed to be seat belts. "Mate", it said in a scratchy growling voice. He turned away from me and started his ship.

My heart stopped. That sure was a night I won't ever forget.

[the-kr8tor]

Hello, I've been trying to reach you about your cars extended warranty:)

(Requesting Reverse Isekai AU thingy please^^)

I don't even have a car 😭 (thank you for requesting muah 😘)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.1k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, lovestruck reader, reverse isekai AU, fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

One minute you're mindlessly scrolling through your phone with your headphones blaring loud music, a minute later you're screaming bloody murder when a geometric glowing portal pops up in your room. It made everything in the room glow orange and yellow as confusion and surprise took over your form.

Are you getting abducted by aliens? Are you in an episode of Rick and Morty? If so, then multiverses are real, it's either that or the mold from your numerous stock water bottles has finally gotten to your brain.

A half second into your contemplation, out comes a man that you're oh so familiar with and oh so smitten with. His boots thump loudly on your floors, spikes glimmering under the red LED lights. The whites of his mask widen when he spots you cowering in the corner, darkness overtakes you when his oh so familiar voice echoes above the whir of the portal.

“This ain't 1346.” You fall off the bed like a damsel in distress.

—

You wake up to water gently splashing your face, flicking more like. And your head aching, eyes adjusting to the sudden light.

“Fuckin' finally, I thought you were dead.” A garbled voice utters as your ears try to waken up from your deep nap. “You alright there?” His voice clears and you still think you're dreaming when Hobie Brown's mask pops up in your vision, droopy eyeliner, spikes and all that jazz that you've practically memorized in your mind.

You thought your poster has once again fallen off the walls and onto your bed. But no, when you touched his bicep abruptly, eyes as wide as saucers, lips stuttering out his name. Your favourite character is real and right in your bedroom, flicking water from one of your numerous discarded water bottles on your bedside.

Even your wildest imagination couldn't make this up.

“You're Hobie Brown.” You say in disbelief, voice just above a whisper.

“Yeah, I figured you know me based on all of these…” he roams his eyes on your walls and table. “...posters and stickers. What am I over here? A rockstar or somethin’? Since you know my name.”

“You're Hobie motherfucking Brown!” You screech, suddenly jumping off the bed, looking like someone just told you Santa isn't real.

“That I am.” Said man has the audacity to smirk at you. And you swear you would have fainted again. “You a big fan?”

“I love you.” Your voice merely a murmur but he for sure heard it as the eyes of his mask widened for a brief second.

“I think it's time for us to chat, yeah, love?”

“L-love? Fucking…” voice wavering, you drop once again, but this time he catches you perfectly without the motion sickness from traveling to one dimension after another.

Hobie chuckles, eyes staring at your sleeping face, mouth still agape from the surprise and skin hot under his gloves. “Never thought someone could faint twice in one day.”

—

There's a glass of cold water in your hands, legs nervously bouncing under the blanket. He sits at the foot of your bed, giving you enough space so as to not make you uncomfortable in your own home, and to also not make you pass out (again) from the close proximity. His iconic boots are discarded, vest folded next to him, and mask in his pocket. You almost fainted again when he took it off.

“So, this Miles from earth–1610 is gonna get chased by Miguel and the entire society because he doesn't want his canon event to happen?” You nod as he recalls your story. Not a story anymore as this Hobie hasn't experienced it yet. Of course you didn't tell him the entire plot, just in case it rips a hole in the space time continuum. “And a few people are gonna need a watch?”

You sniffle, skin so warm that you think you're boiling the water in your hands.

“Hmm, that checks out. Good thing I started making these watches then eh, love?” His mischievous smile makes your stomach do flips, you're sure he's doing it intentionally.

Pinching yourself under the covers, chugging down the cool water, you muster up enough courage to actually speak coherent words.

“H-how’d you get here?”

“Fucked up my coordinates, I think. I'm pretty sure I'm not in Kansas anymore.” Hobie chuckles at his own joke before switching his attention to your wide eyed self. “Wizard of oz, you do have that here, right?”

“Y-yes,” you say meekly, drowning in his blue? Grey? Or brown eyes? You have no idea as his borders and colors change every minute or so. Nevertheless, you're absolutely done for. You guess this is what it feels like to meet your favourite celebrity, or in this case, favourite character. “Reverse isekai.” You whisper, nerding out at the possibilities.

“A what?” He says in his accent and you tamp down the feeling of wanting to say it back jokingly.

You clear your throat, “nothing.”

Nodding, he inhales, eyes darting around your fangirl room full of fandom merch and of course spiderverse merch. He zeroes in on the body pillow peeking under the blanket. You immediately lift the covers up to hide it, accidentally spilling water all over yourself and the bed. *Great, very smooth, you thought.

His eyes are soft and full of endearment whilst he watches you frantically and desperately dry yourself off.

You hope that he doesn't tease, but you know him, know his character, so you anticipate what happens next.

“What was that then?” He pats your foot, head tilting to look at you. You feel your head swirl again, and you swear the water spilled all over you evaporates from the sheer heat from your skin.

“N-nothing, Hobie.” You sink into the mattress.

“Right,” He unfolds his vest, putting it back on. “It's been great, but I gotta go.”

“Oh,” you blink, “do you want me to take out the posters? I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable.”

He shakes his head with a smile. “Nah, not uncomfortable, I've been in worse dimensions. This ain't that bad really.”

“They're bootlegs if that makes it more okay.”

Hobie laughs and you practically melt from the sound.

“Bootleg, huh? That's a great name, project bootleg it is.” His smile blinds you for a second. You feel like you've ascended to heaven. “I have a tight schedule, being Spider-Man and all, but maybe I can visit again to get some insider knowledge of the future. Eh, Oracle?”

“S-sure,” you choke on the singular word. “It's a date— wait– no, I meant—”

Hobie chuckles, hands on his hips, bouncing on the balls of his boot clad feet, and border turning bright pink. For some reason, in all your clumsy and goofy self, you just made *the Spider-Man sheepish. Not just any Spider-Man, Hobie Brown, your absolute favourite out of all the thousands of Spider-people in the entire multiverse.

“It's a date then, no fainting next time yeah? I'll still catch you anyway, but it wouldn't be that fun if you're sleeping through it.”

“Okay.” You manage to say, heart loudly beating in your chest when his art style changes into love poems etched into his design.

He jumps inside the portal to hide the poems, winking at you before his body disappears into the void.

As the portal closes, you pass out once again, with a lopsided smile this time.

[leo-muscle]

I’ve heard a little bit about this King Leon guy. Who does he think he is to call himself a king? Seems far to pretentious if you ask me. I wouldn’t be caught dead bowing to someone like that. Not in a million years.

Sure I’m the most basic looking white dude on the planet. My face gets lost in the crowd and my body is light enough to be blown by a breeze. But a king can’t change that, and I would like to see him or any of his subjects try to.

"Are you sure about that?" The bartender told you. You had just arrived on your vacation in Haiti, and the resort's bartender had decided to strike up a conversation with you over drinks. He was enormous, seven feet of pure surfer boy muscle, with a thick gut that was the very picture of strength. He would have been the most beautiful man you had ever seen, if you weren't in the middle of a massive rant.

"Oh, absolutely." You continued. "Whoever these 'kings' are, I don't want anything to do with 'em. Who are they to declare rule over the entire world, and who are we to listen to them?"

It was true, of course. Much of Africa, the British Isles, Central America, and even the islands you were now in had been united under the rule of these Kings. While many praised them for their novel social reforms and exponential increase to quality of life in their domains, many others, yourself included, remained attached to the old ways. Even this vacation was a scouting trip, to see if whatever propaganda these Kings were putting out was true.

"On the contrary, my friend, I am perfectly happy to listen to the rule of my King. You should have seen this island before King Kai came here. Homelessness, poverty... it's all been amended since he arrived."

"Really?" You asked, taking a big swig of your drink, savoring its tingle on your lips. "And NO one's uncomfortable being ruled by just one person?"

"People love King Kai. He is kind and just, like any good king should be. You'll see that soon enough." The bartender said.

"What do you mean by that?" You asked, your heart racing.

"Oh, nothing much. Just give it a few seconds."

"What are you-- UGH!" You doubled over, your skin on fire with a sensation entirely alien to you.

The bartender walked out from behind the bar, and soon, his magical hands went to work. With his kingly essence in your system, you could be molded into a respectable citizen of the world.

He started with your pecs, cupping them from behind as they burst through your tropical shirt with new strength. They were enormous, voluptuous pillows, jiggling with muscle and a thin layer of fat.

He then moved his hands along your shoulders, pumping them into cannonballs of strength. The moment his hands reached your arms, they pulled and pushed, leaving your twiggy biceps and forearms as but a fleeting memory, replacing them with pulsing, powerful cannons of strength. In awe, you flexed your right arm, forming a mound easily as big as a baseball if not more.

You moaned softly as King Kai's beautiful hands lightly traced a six-pack onto your stomach, each ab popping into existence, forming an impenetrable wall of strength.

Soon, his hands navigated south, one massive hand palming your flat ass, while the other grabbed your tiny three-inch cock. You moaned, long, low, and hard as both of his hands began to move out from your body, pulling your cock and ass with them. Your cheeks rounded out into a big, bouncy bubble butt, bigger than most women's. It shook with strength and sexuality with every slight movement you made, much like your cock, which had grown so big with the King's touch that no pair of pants could conceal your enormous bulge. His touch was electric on your shaft, causing you to pre almost endlessly.

Your mind was in heaven as he continued to your legs. Your cock was at full mast at its enormous eleven inches as he took his hands to your legs, and blew them up into corded steel pillars as big as any christmas ham. You moaned, your cock firing blanks as he looked you deep into your eyes, placing one hand to completely cover your currently-unchanged face.

"As much as I love my people, we cannot be a global community if all my citizens are homogenous." King Kai said. "Hmm, where should I send you..."

Your skin flickered through thousands of shades in a single moment, before settling on a tone a few shades darker than your original. Your hair darkened to black, and you instantly sprouted a thick dark mustache, and a chinstrap beard to match. Your eyes became narrower and monolid, your stare intensifying into a sexy smolder. As King Kai leaned in and kissed you, your bulk increased, and your muscle became padded with a thin sexy layer of fat.

"Cum." King Kai commanded you, his voice sexy enough to send you over the edge.

You had been reborn, a Vietnamese stud in the Carribean. Your brain was aflame with new neurons, making connections faster and better than ever before. You knew you had been improved, in every conceivable way. You were stronger, smarter, wiser, and you had no one but your new king to thank.

[marlynnofmany]

Reaching

Being the tall person at the grocery store is nothing compared to being the tall species on an alien planet. Everybody here was hip-height at best, and my ability to grab things that would normally require a stepstool was very appreciated. I wasn’t the only Big Alien come to visit, since the courier ship was about evenly split size-wise, but I was definitely enjoying it.

Especially since the cargo we were meant to pick up was stored (for some reason) on high shelves.

“That’s everything from this one,” I said to Mur as I grabbed a final dusty crate from head level, bending down to place it on the hoversled. “What’s next?” I straightened up and stretched my back, ready for more.

Mur consulted a list on the communicator he held with one tentacle. “That was the ‘blue alcove.’ Which one’s the ‘round alcove’?”

I rotated in place, looking for round things in the alien barn full of mismatched architecture and empty stalls. The owner had decided to retire and sell their old junk, which meant getting us to deliver it to somebody else’s farm. They were paying extra for us to load it onto the ship ourselves. This farmer was either elderly and infirm, or out of bothers to give. Not that it mattered much either way.

“I see it!” Paint said, pointing a scaly hand upward.

I followed her finger to see a curved opening halfway up the wall. “That’s more of an oval, but everything else is square, so I guess that’s it,” I agreed.

Paint tugged the hoversled over, while Mur sat on top of the boxes with his list. Then they both waited for me, because they certainly couldn’t reach any of it.

“We’re meant to take everything up here, right?” I asked, leaning in to grab a bundle of what looked like hammers strapped together. They were heavy, but not to the point where I was at risk of dropping them on anybody.

“Looks like yes,” Mur said. “Can you get all of it?”

“Mayyybe not,” I admitted. “This alcove is pretty deep.”

“Oh, there’s a ladder!” Paint said, darting away. I was busy straining to reach a roll of wire, so I didn’t see what caused the loud snap. But I did hear her make a disappointed sound.

Mur laughed. “There was a ladder. See any others over there?”

I pulled the wire down and set it on the cart, only then getting a view of Paint guiltily dropping the decrepit piece of wood that had recently been half a ladder. There were two or three pegs sticking out of it, though the rest had stayed with the other half, which appeared to be bolted to the wall.

I winced. “Are we going to have to pay damages for that?”

“Eh, maybe,” Mur said. “Pretty sure the old farmer mentioned a number of things that were destined for the fuel pile anyway. We can let Captain Sunlight ask.”

Paint called over, “I don’t see any others.”

A look back at the near wall showed bolts that might have held a different ladder in place once. “New question,” I said. “What do you see that looks strong enough for me to step on? Because I can just climb up there with a little boost.”

Mur grumbled something about species that were always looking for things to climb. Since this was entirely accurate, I ignored him. Then he said, “Well, I’d suggest stepping on the sled, but it’s full of goods, and the brakes aren’t what they should be.”

“Yeah, no use risking that,” I agreed. “And I don’t need much. I could probably get up there with a running start, but I’d rather not bruise anything today.”

Paint trotted back over. “What about those?” she suggested, pointing out a stack of metal tubs that were probably meant for animal food.

We took a look. Some were rusty and unreliable, and they were all heavy — we had to tip the stack on its side to sort through them. But we found one at the bottom that felt sturdy enough. I probably wouldn’t fall right through it. Probably.

It sure was heavy, though. I dragged it over, leaving a trail through the dirt and alien straw, hoping I wasn’t about to ruin another thing that we’d have to pay for.

I’d just gotten it into position when a new voice asked, “What is taking so long?”

Trrili stood in the doorway, a looming black-and-red menace with mandibles and pincher arms. She looked impatient. She also looked like a giant praying mantis, but she always looked like that.

While Paint explained that the items were hard to reach and the ladder was pursuing an exciting new career as kindling, Trrili stalked over on her many legs. Ignoring me completely, she reared back and easily reached into the back of the alcove. “All of these?” she asked.

“Ah, yup,” I said, stepping to the side.

She pulled back to land with her pincher arms holding a large curved thing that had loops dangling from the sides. “What even is this?” she asked as she dumped it onto the sled.

“Looks like a saddle,” I told her.

She was already back up there, rummaging around with only her hind feet on the ground. “What for?”

I said, “Riding animals, I imagine,” then went to stand uselessly with Paint. We watched as our larger coworker loaded up the rest of the items.

“Why would anyone want to ride an animal?” Trrili asked, placing a segment of pipe between the boxes.

“Not everyone has hovertech,” I said. “And it’s nice when your transportation can watch out for hazards. And appreciate neck scritches.”

Trrili declared the whole idea absurd and unnecessary, fit only for species that got too familiar with their prey. None of this was a surprise to me. I’d heard her opinions on pets before.

But Paint was curious about what it was like to be carried around by a large living thing. Was it frightening? What if the animal went the wrong way? What was the importance of “neck scritches?”

I set about explaining horses to her. I might not be able to reach as far as Trrili, but this was definitely something I could do.

~~~

The ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book. More to come! And I am currently drafting a sequel!

[monstersandmaw]

Male ‘yautja inspired’ alien x gender neutral reader (nsfw) - Part Eleven - Final.

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

___

Thank you to everyone who’s let me know how much they’ve enjoyed this ‘not-technically-a-yautja-but-basically-feral-predator’ story - I’m sorry it took me five months to give you the final closing chapter. Your support means more than you’ll ever know, and I hope you enjoy this ‘rounding off’ of things.

Content: after their somewhat emotional reunion, Big Red guides the reader into his ship and takes care of them, in more ways than one... There’s talk of bonding, non penetrative shower sex, messy alien cock/anatomy, and a lot of fluff. Wordcount: 2431

Catch up here:

Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw), Part Five (sfw), Part Six (nsfw), Part Seven (nsfw), Part Eight (sfw), Part Nine (sfw), Part Ten (sfw)

At the top of the ramp, you squinted your eyes a little against the relative brightness of the interior of Red’s ship, but you barely took in any of it as he guided you with his hand still at the small of your back through the corridors and doorways to his quarters near the bridge. By the time you halted, you were left with the vague impression of blinking lights, silver and black bulkheads and walls, and touch-screen panels alight with their runic alphabet.

Pausing beside the door to his quarters, Big Red used his clawed forefinger to tap a code into the panel on the bulkhead beside it and the door hissed sideways to reveal a spartan room that felt oddly familiar, though the room you’d slept in before had been rotated ninety degrees at the time, following his ship’s destructive crash-landing. You smiled and looked back at him as he entered behind you.

“There is a shower through that door,” he said, pointing at another panel in the wall. “Have you eaten yet?”

You nodded. “Yeah, I grabbed something on base before I left. If you don’t mind me using your stuff, I’ll go and freshen up?”

Red inclined his head.

Peeking inside the bathroom, you turned back to him and grinned. “You… want to join me?”

Big Red’s mandibles twitched, clenched, and a slow clicking started in his throat — not quite a growl, but close. He reached slowly up with one hand and removed the bone mask that covered his face, then crossed to a shelf near his relatively small bed. Watching from the doorway, you watched him set it down, take a deep, slow inhale, and then turn back to face you. You couldn’t help the smile when you saw his face again for the first time in so long.

“Oh you’re beautiful, Red,” you breathed. Tears choked you a little as you added, “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” he replied in a low, rough rumble, and stalked across the room to you. He rested his forehead against yours and placed his hands on your hips. Exhaling softly, he let his mandibles spread and you tipped your head up to kiss him again. His fingers tightened on your hips and you gasped as his claws just slightly pricked through the fabric of your clothes.

Slowly, he hooked his talons under your pullover and shirt and drew them up over your head. Then, he saw the bare expanse of your torso, another series of low, resonant clicks left him. The steady cadence resembled echolocation, though you knew that wasn’t one of their particular specialities. Whatever it meant, you felt each one like a starburst inside your chest, and you tipped your head to one side, exposing your neck to him. He let his taloned mandibles caress your pulse, his rough hands gliding gently across the bridge of your collarbones and over to your shoulders before he growled and pushed his pelvis against yours. His fingers tightened on your biceps and he pulled you close to him just as his mandibles twitched and tightened to a pinch on your throat. You gasped, and he captured the exhale, breathing it in.

His black tongue laved over your skin and you bucked weakly against him, sighing a curse and clutching at him. His hard, textured skin was cool against you, but you could hear his breathing picking up in that familiar, gentle wheezing, and saliva dripped from his mouth when he straightened up again.

“I want you,” he rasped. “Please… I…”

You nodded. “Let me shower first?”

He snarled, but forced himself to take a step back. “If I join you, I will not be able to… hold back.”

“Sure you will, Big Guy,” you laughed, though the idea was more than appealing anyway. You shucked off the rest of your clothes and then jutted your chin at him. “Come on. You too.”

Red shuddered visibly, but he obeyed.

His armoured loincloth came undone in a couple of clicks, and he abandoned it on the floor. It hit the metal with a clunk of leather and alloy and his taloned feet flexed briefly. Between his legs, where the mound was that concealed his sheath, you could see a glint of his slick pre-come already and you moved closer. His chest heaved, his shoulders rising and falling, and he clicked another warning at you, which you duly ignored. He knew what you were going to do, but instead of stopping you, he leaned back a fraction to allow it, shifting his great head and letting his hands fall passively to his sides.

You reached out slowly, giving him the opportunity to object properly, but he never did.

Mesmerised by his stunning red-oxide colouring as it faded across his ladder-like abdomen into a warm, rich, cream, you trailed your fingertips over each contour in his muscles, and he gave another shuddering purr in response. Further and further down his body, you traced the feel of him until your middle fingertip brushed against the slightly swollen mound between his legs. Red heaved and gave a snarling exhale, mandibles flaring wide, the delicate pink membrane stretching enticingly. His head tipped back and his chest began to work like bellows.

You took a final step closer to him and pressed your lips to his chest, then, in the same few heartbeats, you slipped your fingertip teasingly into the slick heat of his slit and he roared. Slick dripped down over your hand, drops of it hitting the smooth, cool floor, and he shook so hard you thought for a dizzying moment he was seizing. Then it stopped, and he picked you up under your arms and lifted you off the floor. In the same movement, he lowered his face to your neck and shoulder and bit you. It wasn’t hard, and it didn’t puncture the skin, but it was enough to make you cry out and jerk, spine arching back, body going taut.

Red walked you from the room and set you down in the shower stall at the back of the tiny en-suite bathroom and snarled at you. With one hand on your throat — so reminiscent of the first time he’d touched you and yet so utterly different — he used his right hand to turn the dials on the shower.

Perfectly hot water coursed down over both of you and he kissed you again, his hand going between your legs this time. He cupped you, teased you, mindful of his claws, and then he moved to knead the soft flesh of your arse-cheek in his rough, leathery hand. While he was still distracted in reaching around you, you rutted your pelvis against his and he gave another shrill, fluttering roar and bucked his hips in response. His cock was filling and sliding free of his sheath and he rutted it between your legs for a moment in the slick water before he turned you around like a marionette and pressed you against the shining, black walls of the stall.

With his feet braced behind you to stop you slipping, he slid his ridged cock between your cheeks and you felt the slickness of his pre-come against your skin. You could hear him purring and clicking softly in his own language; endearments about how good you felt and how gorgeous your body was and how he couldn’t wait to be inside you. Senseless, beautiful nonsense. Even though he wasn’t inside you in that moment, the intimacy of the position made your knees weak.

“God, Red, don’t let me fall,” you grunted.

In response, he reached his left arm under yours and played with your right nipple between finger and thumb, pinching and caressing in turn until you cried out again. You’d never been so tired and so turned on at the same time, and it was making you dizzy.

“Fuck,” you gasped, moving your right hand down your body to touch yourself while he let his ridged cock slide easily between your cheeks. You had to grab hold of his left forearm with your left hand just to keep yourself from sliding to your knees. It was like gripping a steel girder, though it was the colour of iron-oxide and you could feel all the muscles flexing beneath his hard skin. It wasn’t long before you were short of breath and closer than you’d expected to be in so little time.

Big Red let his solid, muscular arm slide down your torso to your waist then, where he held you in place again as he quickened the rhythm of his thrusts to something frantic. He snarled wordlessly in your ear, his taloned mandibles brushing against your skin, drool dripping down onto your shoulder and down your chest where the water carried it away. The slick sounds of his hips against you and the efforts of your own hand were only just audible over the water, but it was enough to spur you both on.

“Come for me, Red,” you gasped a minute or so later. Your spine arched, pushing you back onto his cock and just as you’d contemplated what it would be like if he slipped inside you at that angle, Red came with a yell. He grabbed your hip with his right hand, talons locking him there, and he came up your back with a roar that left your ear ringing.

His hips jerked erratically, and he would have flattened you to the cold shower wall if his left arm hadn’t still been around your middle. His claws hurt, but it was the perfect counterpoint to the mounting pleasure in your body, and as you felt your own release crashing over your body, you tipped your head back and let him hold you up. You came hard, and he nuzzled against you, his cock still giving weak spurts between you as he finished. As the blood sang in your ears, you felt your body go almost completely slack.

Red clicked and crooned gently, the sound reverberating oddly in your hazy mind as he purred softly against you.

Catching your breath, you turned a little in his arms and let the spray of water carry away his release from your back, then turned to look up at him. He shook his head with an apparently-universal ‘don't say a word’ expression, and tutted at you. He had warned you that he wouldn’t be able to help himself if you let him shower with you, after all.  “I’m not complaining.”

You grinned at him, finished washing, and staggered out of the shower.

After using his towel, which he then used after you, you crossed to his bed, drew back the sheets, practically collapsed into it and curled up, and laid your head on the pillow. Sleep reached for you almost immediately, but you felt him stroke his hand over the crown of your head and you cracked your eyes open.

“Join me?” you mumbled.

“Soon,” he promised.

“I’ll hold you to that, Big Guy.”

He purred at you and leaned down. His thick, waxy dreads fell all around your face in a dark curtain and you kissed the nearest one. Apparently they were sensitive enough that his breath caught and he clicked another thornless rebuke at you.

You laughed, and said, “Yeah, that’s a cheque my body can’t cash right now. Next time,” you snorted, mumbling sleepily as you got comfortable on his firm mattress.

Red purred again, slow and sub-sonic, and you sighed. “I won’t be too long,” he said. “Rest.”

When you next stirred, it was to the warmth of Big Red pressed all along your back, and with his heavy arm draped across your waist. Daylight washed in through a small porthole window in the ship’s hull beside you, lending a rosy, watercolour glow to the memories of the previous night and you stretched a little.

Exhaling a contented sigh, you rolled a little more onto your back and peered over your shoulder to find Big Red fast asleep on his side. It was sweet, endearing almost, to see such a powerful creature lost in the softness of a dreamless sleep, and for a while, you just watched him and listened to the pattern of his low, rasping in- and exhale.

Finally though, the temptation to touch overruled your desire to keep staring, and you freed your arm enough to reach out and run your finger along his soft, lax upper mandible. To your delight, it twitched a little, and then he inhaled, blinking his small, ember-red eyes open and purring openly at you. The sound was barely louder than a whisper, but it rippled across your skin and lit you up all over. Your breath caught and then came quick and shallow in your chest.

Red spread his fingers wide and skimmed his palm down your ribs, over your stomach and eventually down between your legs. When he found your body waking to his touch, he purred again and muttered something in his own language, the sound a series of clicks and gentle growls.

Love, he said, though the word ran deep as the ocean. Like their concept of friendship, that of ‘lover’ was equally complicated, but the word he had chosen was one you’d only heard in the context of mates and bonding.

You smiled, vision blurring a little as tears gathered on your lashes. “Red,” you whispered. “God, I wish… I wish I had a word for how I feel about you. What you just said… it’s… it’s how I feel for you, but I can’t…” you swallowed and he reached over with his mandibles and stroked your cheeks. The very tip of his black tongue gathered the tiny pearl of a teardrop that had begun to roll down your face as though it were a bead of nectar.

“I know,” he said, still speaking his mother tongue. “I can see it in the way you look at me. I can feel it,” he said, palming over you and making you buck slowly, your muscles tensing and releasing in a wave of pleasure. “I can smell it and taste it,” he went on, letting his tongue flicker across your lips and down to the hollow of your throat. “I know it,” he said. “You don't need a word for it when you gave me my name and took me as your mate. I know.”

“Red,” you gasped, angling your hips into his touch again. “Red, please…”

“Patience, love,” he purred. “Patience. And I’ll give you the universe.”

___

Hope you enjoyed it, and thank you for your support and patience! If you liked it, consider reblogging to say thank you.

As always, I look forward to your reactions to this one. Take care of yourselves.

| Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar) | Library/Story Archive Blog

[angelxd-3303]

Luigi awoke with a groan. The last thing he remembered was being on Bowser's ship; they were going on a much-needed vacation amongst the stars. An asteroid had careened towards them from nowhere, and Luigi had been thrown from the deck.

Now, it was obvious that he was in fact not on Bowser's ship. Soft grass tickled his cheek, and a distressed squeaking noise coaxed his eyes open.

In front of him was a small glowing starlike creature with big sad eyes. It bobbed in the air, squeaking again. Luigi slowly sat up, grunting in pain. He spotted his cloak near a rock, stumbling to his feet and throwing it over his shoulders.

The human took in his surroundings; all around him there were grassy fields dotted with deep red flowers and large jagged rocks that stood out against the sky. The stars provided little light, yet the planet itself was as brightly lit as the Mushroom Kingdom during the day. Making a small "Hm." noise, Luigi turned to the star.

"Hey there." He said. "Have you seen a ship, by any chance?" The star made distressed blubbering sounds, and looked close to tears. Luigi held his hand out to it.

"Hey, it's ok. I'm ok, promise!" The star seemed to calm down a bit, then floated to him and grasped his sleeve. It squeaked and warbled, pulling him towards a hill. Chuckling, Luigi let the strange alien lead him up. As they neared the top, however, his smile fell.

Below a tree at the hilltop,a woman in a flowing blue dress sat with a forlorn expression. Four other stars surrounded her, one cradled in her arms, and one seemingly sleeping in her hair. Silvery white hair that cascaded all around her, reminding Luigi of Rapunzel.

Looking closer, Luigi realized that the woman as well as her glowing companions all looked so...tired. she was motionless, and Luigi couldn't tell if she was even breathing.

"Um...hello?" He tried. No response. Then, Luigi saw her shudder. He immediately pulled off his cloak, approaching the woman and draping it over her. At this, she stirred. Her eyes opened just a tad, and she met his gaze wearily.

"Mmh?"

"Hey, are you ok?" The woman stared at him, as if trying to decide if he was real. When she didn't answer, Luigi pulled the cloak tighter around her, promising that it would be ok.

"My husband's got to be looking for me; when he gets here we can get you and your friends some help." He assured, sitting beside her. She hummed, leaning into him. As three of the stars settled in his lap, Luigi sighed. He knew Bowser would find him, even among the vast expanse of space. Feeling the young woman beside him sigh, Luigi had a strange feeling that their meeting was no accident.

[mindmelter]

Alien Appetite: A Snack At The Gas Station

"What do you think of that man? He's very hot, and looks like he has a big dick," I said, admiring the tattooed man pumping gas into his expensive car.

The man was very hot and muscular, his thick arms were covered in tattoos and he seemed to be a tough kind of guy. I knew a big dicked man when I saw one, and that man definitely had a giant snake under those shorts.

Anyone else might think I was talking to myself, but I was actually talking to a tiny alien friend on my hand. I kindly called him Cosmo since his real name wasn't meant for human tongues.

The tiny alien bug had wings and flew towards the hunk, easily sliding inside the unsuspected hunk's ear. The man displayed some discomfort on his face as he tried with his finger to reach for whatever bug had gotten inside his ear. However, his fingers were too big to reach the alien who was already too deep inside his skull and about to reach for his brain.

The man let out a loud grunt and suddenly started slapping one side of his ear, in one last desperate attempt to make the 'bug' come out. Until he just stopped and looked at me with a blank stare, that's when I knew Cosmo had taken full control of the hunk's brain.

He took off the gas pump and opened the car's door.

"Get out," He told someone inside the car.

"What do you mean by 'get out'?" I heard a female voice ask.

"I said get out of my fucking car, now!"

I saw a beautiful blonde girl walk out of the car, looking furious. "Wait, are you serious? what the heck is wrong with you? You picked me up, paid for dinner, and now you're ditching me?"

"I have better places to put my dick on," He said, even I gasped at this response.

"You're an asshole!" she shouted, slapping his face. "That's the last time I try dating apps!" She said, storming away.

The stud then turned to me with his blank eyes, he reached for his zipper and fished out his thick black cock, It was so huge! I smiled when I saw how long and thick that man was, my intuition never failed.

"I told you he was packing," I said.

"This will do, now get in," he ordered with a deep, sexy voice. We got inside the car and he drove us to the parking lot nearby. His huge cock was so thick and heavy that it wouldn't even get erect, instead, it swung between his legs. "No one ever told you staring is rude?" He joked, he then took off his shirt and shorts, and for last, his underwear. "Here you go, open your dirty mouth," He grunted, opening my mouth with his fingers and shoving his used underwear inside my mouth, it had a strong musky smell on it. "Take this as my gift to you."

While I had my mouth full of the hunk's underwear, I watched as he grabbed his huge cock and bent his head down with his tongue out, he lifted his legs in the air and started to suck on his own cock with such a hunger that not even a whore could compete.

That's why the alien needs hosts with big cocks, so he can suck out their juices straight from the source, and that's why the Alien needs me, I know how to spot the most hung men.

I hear the hunk's deep grunts and moans as he gave himself a passionate blowjob, his eyes rolled back and he started to cum. I could tell he was cumming because I saw cum oozing out of his mouth and slowly sliding down the shaft and balls. He let go of his cock with a loud 'pop'. A single string of cum still connected his mouth to his cock.

He took his used and now-soaked wet underwear off my mouth and used it to clean the cum off his mouth. "He tasted really good, I think I will be inside him for future meals, but fuck, I did a good mess with this one, I have cum all over his dick..." He then looked at me with a perverted grin. "Are you going to make me ask?"

I smiled, I was always happy to help in the cleaning process, so I bent over and started lapping the cum off his cock as he drove us to the hunk's house.

[ateliersss]

Spark and Heart

Pairing: Ironhide x Fem!Reader Summary: It's one thing to fall in love with a robotic alien, but to expose your feelings in such a humiliating way? Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: English isn't my first language Word Count: 3,331

Leather.

You could still feel the leather underneath your skin as the fingernails of your left hand dig into the seat of the GMC Topkick C4500 while your other hand was busy between your legs.

You could still remember the delicious stretch as you slowly inserted first one finger, then a second, and then a third.

You could still picture your body, your back arching against the backrest of the front seat.

You could still not forget how you had spread your legs wider, how you had switched your grip to the steering wheel, how you had moaned his name before you could think about it or prevent it.

The moment the euphoric waves of your orgasm subsided, you became aware of the horror that just happened. You suddenly realized where you were, who you were with.

The deafening silence that followed was heavy on your shoulders. Before you could think twice, you hastily pulled down the skirt of your dress, fumbled for the door handle and fled the truck. You started to walk away, not caring where to, still trying to comprehend what you just had done.

You were ashamed. You wanted to cry. You had just humiliated yourself right in front of him.

After ten minutes of walking, you took a look over your shoulder and saw that he had followed you, a distance of about three meters between you.

Back in the present, you pressed your palms against your eyes and let out a frustrated groan.

Since that day you had avoided Ironhide as much as possible, something which didn’t turn out to be difficult as — although he had only reluctantly left your side and had voiced out how much he hated doing so — he was busy with the other Autobots looking for Decepticons around the world.

“(Y/N)?”

You looked up and into Mikaela's face displayed on your computer.

“Mikaela. Hi.”

Mikaela was the only one you could talk to about it and not just because she knew about the Autobots. No, it was because she was a girl and a friend. Like hell would you tell your brother about your feelings for a robotic alien and about you masturbating as you were thinking about said alien while you were literally sitting inside him.

“What’s wrong?” She asked concerned.

You groaned again, resting your forehead on the surface of your desk. “I messed up.” You mumbled.

“What?”

Sitting up, you repeated louder, “I messed up! Big time. God, I’m such an idiot.”

“Is college life that bad? I thought screws, circuits and such are your thing.” Mikaela grinned.

You laughed weakly, “It is. Ratchet is a sweetheart for answering every of my calls when I needed help, but that’s not the reason I wanted to talk to you.”

Mikaela's eyes darted across her computer screen, scanning the limited space of your room that your webcam was capturing. “Please tell me you're alone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course I am. I’m not stupid. My roomie is in one of her classes.”

“Good. If you want to talk about something top secret like giant robots you helped to save the world, you really should be alone.”

“Not only that. I would be considered insane if someone heard me say that I am in love with my car.”

Mikaela’s eyebrows shot up.

You instantly avoided eye contact while playing with the pendant on your necklace — a silvery gear that belonged to Ironhide.

“(Y/N), come on. You can talk to me. You were there for me when I needed a girl I can talk to.”

You grimaced in disgust. “Yeah, talk about my brother. Most of the time I just wanted to rip my ears off.”

“But you were there anyway. You listened and helped me. Now I'll return the favor.”

Nodding, you sat up straight and took a deep breath. “So, as you know, ‘Hide drove me back to college after Spring Break was over. The journey took hours and to bridge the time we talked. Well, I talked and he listened. However, after a while the conversation became less one-sided. He answered questions I asked and I answered questions he asked. He’s a very tough cookie, but also… kinda a sweetheart.” You shrugged.

Mikaela nodded, gesturing for you to continue.

“He decided to stay. His reasoning was that I could apparently help him with his eye since I'm a genius at robotics.”

“But you are a genius.”

“I am and I can't wait until I graduate college to work at N.E.S.T. so Que can take me under his wing and I can give him a hand and help him.”

“You really wanna worked there, huh?”

“Of course, their technology is much more advanced than ours. And that’s the thing! Why would ‘Hide, of all people, want the help of a human whose available technology is practical prehistoric compared to theirs?”

Mikaela chuckled. “Well, we're not talking about just any random human here, are we? We’re talking about you, (Y/N). You Witwickys really have something on you that seem to bring alien robots to their knees.”

Now it was you who laughed. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, first of all there is Bumblebee, who hardly leaves your brother's side and always jumps when Sam calls his name. Sometimes I feel like I'm the third wheel instead of a literal car.”

“So?”

“I can still remember Ironhide aiming his guns at Sam and me when we first met him and the others and his way to talk to us. Let’s just say, him taking the position as your guardian just like Bee did for Sam after what happened in Mission City is not something I expected.”

You smiled.

Yeah, you remembered how your brother had explained to you — in his typical Sam-Witwicky-way, with frantic voice and agitated gestures — how his newly acquired car was a robot alien from another planet called Cybertron.

Being three years older than Sam, you were already in college and therefore could only visit your family on holidays. Unfortunately for him, you arrived at home for your Spring Break the same day he encountered the Autobots who were looking for your great-great-grandfather’s glasses.

Your parents greeted you with open arms and big smiles, asked you about your time at college and informed you about the latest things happening in the neighborhood. You noticed your brother’s absence, but they only told you that he had left a few hours ago. After dinner, which Sam didn't show up either, you sat down with a glass of wine in the living room, watching the news with your parents.

Just as the end of the world was being announced, you heard the roar of several engines and Sam's impatient voice.

Your dad apparently heard it too, but you waved him off. “You can ground him later. Now I just want some good old brother-sister-time after months.” You kissed his cheek, ignoring his grumbling.

You were excited seeing Sam after such a long time. Not that the two of you weren't in touch during the time you were away — the last time was a few days ago when he proudly told you about his new car — but it was a whole lot different talking to him in person.

You were just about to open the door leading to the garden when you almost ran into Sam.

“(Y/N)!” He exclaimed. To your surprise, his voice sounded almost panicky. “W-What, uhm, what are you doing… here?” He frantically looked over his shoulders.

You laughed, eyebrows drawn together in confusion, your arms crossed in front of your chest. “Good to see you, too, douchebag. Didn’t miss me?”

“I- No. I mean, yes, of course I missed you. How, uh, how are you doing?”

“Sam, are you okay?” You asked slightly concerned, straightening your posture.

“No, no. Yes, everything’s fine. I just have to… There’s something in my room that I need. Just stay here, I’m back in a minute.” With that he slipped past you and headed towards the stairs.

Laughing, you shook your head at his antics. Typical Sam.

“Great, but I’m going outside. Take your time.”

Sam stopped dead in his tracks before spinning around just in time to see you disappear through the door. “Wait! (Y/N), wait!”

Stumbling, he ran after you.

Shit, shit, shit.

He came to a stop next to you when he saw you looking out into the garden with your hands on your hips.

“Uh, Sam? Does Dad know you’re using his precious grass as a parking lot?”

Five cars were scattered across the lawn: a yellow Camaro with black rally stripes, a silver Pontiac Solstice, a yellow and green rescue vehicle, a blue and red semi truck and, something that got your heart beating faster, a black GMC Topkick truck.

You absolutely loved that car. A 1 1/2 Ton vehicle powered by a 6.6L V-8 Duramax diesel, equipped with an Allison 1000 five-speed automatic, producing 300 hp and 520 lb-ft of torque.

Gorgeous was the first thing that came to your mind as you approached the truck. You traced the red GMC logo with your index and middle finger. While your dad was interested in expensive fancy cars, you were more into bigger ones. They might make you feel tiny, but you just loved being in control of such a bulky and powerful vehicle.

You reached for the hood and caressed the black paint. Without losing physical contact, you walked around the truck. The fingers of your right hand stroked the headlights, ran over the doors and tailgate, before you stood in front of the truck again.

“Aren’t you just a beauty!” You smiled, still not letting go of the car. “Sam, I think I’m in love. He’s so handsome.”

“He is…? What?! (Y/N), please stop touching it… him!”

Facing the truck, you ran both hands over the edge over the hood, intending to open it to take a look inside. “Why? Jealous that a four-wheeled machine gets more attention from a girl than you?” You laughed.

The moment you opened the hood something strange happened. One second you felt the smooth surface of the black metal under your fingertips and the next it suddenly disappeared as if the car had eluded your touch of its own volition.

Strange robotic noises around you filled your ears and suddenly a 22-foot tall robot was standing in front of you.

“You should buy me a drink before you’re allowed to touch me there.” A deep male voice sounded from above you.

Slowly, your eyes traveled from the metallic feet to the legs up to its torso and stopped at the face of the…

Yeah, you really couldn't find another word than “robot” to describe it. Well, judging by the voice, it was rather a he than an it.

You were speechless as you scrutinized his face. Like the rest of him, it was black and silver. You could recognize everything that you could also find in yourself — ears, chin, nose, jaw, even eyebrows. What particularly fascinated you were his eyes. Even though the left one was damaged, you could easily see that they were of a striking sky blue color, glowing bright as they looked down to you.

“Great, absolutely great.” Sam said next to you.

Only now did you realize that he wasn't the only robot in your garden. While your brother lost his shit, you looked from one metal giant to another.

“Hey Sam?” You slowly said, your eyes fixed on the yellow one. “Isn’t that your car?”

“Yes. Yes, it is.” Sam groaned, “Okay, look. I have to find some glasses that belonged to our great-great-grandfather. They are in my bag pack in my room. Can you please, please, stay here and watch them?”

“Y-Yeah, sure.”

“I will explain everything to you later.” He hastily said and ran inside.

The silence that followed was awkward. I mean, what could you possibly do or say when your dream car just turned into a robot?

“(Y/N)!”

You spun around and saw Mikaela running towards you.

“You’re seeing this too, right?” You asked as soon as she stopped next to you. “I’m not dreaming?”

“Nope.” She shook her head.

You huffed laugh. It was like a dream coming true.

You turned to the into-a-robot-turning-truck and asked, “Can I still take you up on your offer about that drink?”

“And like you said, our technology isn’t as advanced as theirs. The only reason why he wanted to stay with you was, well, you. As far as I can tell he took a liking to you.” Mikaela said, interrupting your journey into the past and bringing you back to the present.

You scoffed, trying to ignore the fact that you were blushing. “The only Autobot I would trust to fall in love with a human is Bumblebee. ‘Hide really is the last person, robot, or whatever, to care that much about humans.”

“Again, not humans. You.”

Huffing a laugh, you shook your head. “I really want to believe you because… well, the reason why I actually called you is… I…”

“Just spit it out!”

“IfuckingfingeredmyselfwhileIwasinsidehim!”

According to the look on her face she only understood half of it, but at the same time it was exactly the half that made you want to disappear into thin air. “Excuse me, what?”

You took a deep breath. “As soon as my teacher finishes the lesson I'm off and go to the garage next to my apartment where ‘Hide is. He then drives us to a field surrounded by forest. It's far from any civilization and he can transform himself there in peace. Sometimes I take my books with me to work on my homework or whatever, but most of the time we talk, we spend time together.”

You remember the times he actually sat next to you and worked with you on your homework. You were in awe with his intelligence, always looking up at him to listen to what he had to say.

“Anyways. Two days ago, he was driving me back to my apartment. I was just staring outside, lost in thought. I don’t know what came over me because then I… I touched myself. There.”

Since Mikaela could only stare at you, not finding an answer, you continued, “I’m madly in love with a robot that is also my car. I got horny when I started to fantasies about him while he was driving me home. I’m sorry, okay? I just couldn’t stop myself. I was so pent up and I just needed a release.”

“Oh my god.”

You cringed. “I know. Call me weirdo for getting off to the thought of a weapon on legs, but I never came that fast in my life.”

You watched as Mikaela shifted in her seat as she thought of the right words to say. “I’m not judging you, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She reassured you, “We are friends and we've known each other for a long time. I just didn't expect you to do something so bold while you’re literally inside him, letting him drive you. There is like no way of him not realizing what you were doing.”

“Even in the unlikely event that he hadn't by then, I'm sure he noticed when I screamed and moaned his name while clinging to my seat.” You nonchalantly responded as you saw Mikaela’s jaw drop.

“You…”

“Yes. I didn’t even realize that he stopped at the side of the road. Luckily for me, because the second that blissful moment was over I ran.”

“Oh, wow.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s so messed up.”

“What happened then?”

“Well, I decided to just walk back to college. However, when it got darker, I got tired and I just had no energy left anymore. All I had to do was turn around and take a few steps towards him since he had followed me until then. I got back in and asked him to drive me back. He turned around because I seem to have been walking in the completely wrong direction the whole time.” You shrugged. “We didn’t talk about what happened during the drive. Actually, we didn’t talk at all. The moment he stopped in front of my apartment door, I jumped out and sprinted up the stairs while he drove back to the garage by himself. Normally, I always take him there, but after… you know… I was so embarrassed.”

During your monologue you'd been staring at your keyboard the whole time, but when you looked up you still didn't see any judgment or even disgust on your friend’s face. She rather looked at you in a comforting and understanding manner.

“When you told me you needed to have a girl talk, I already expected some spicy details about a boy.”

“Well, there’s a mighty difference between some boy and someone like ‘Hide.”

“It’s close enough for me. So what’s your problem?”

“What’s my… Have you listened to a word I just said?”

“I did and I don’t get it. You have a crush on him, maybe you’re even in love with him. So what?”

“You seem to forget who and what he is and who and what I am. I'm just a weak, puny, pathetic human being. ‘Hide is this giant, strong, powerful warrior who could care less about my feelings.”

Mikaela scoffed and shook her head. “Stop putting yourself down. If you had listened to a word of what I said, you would have realized that a third and uninvolved party told you he’s smitten with you.”

You shook your head, not wanting to allow yourself to hope. “Why? Why did I have to fall in love with a huge robot-alien? It would never work. Just one touch too hard on his part and he could break my bones.”

“He wouldn’t to that.”

“How would you know?”

“Because he already treats you like you’re made out of glass. If you remember what happened in Mission City, you probably also remember all the Decepticons, the explosions and concrete parts of buildings that could have crushed you.”

You nodded, a small smile creeping on your face.

Yeah, you remember all those things. You remember Ironhide in front of you, or next to you, or even above you, shielding you from any damage while you did your part to help, both human and Autobot. He didn't have to do it. Protecting your life was not the top priority, but Ironhide acted like it and had stayed by your side as best as he could throughout the battle. Nobody even remotely did for Mikaela or Sam what Ironhide did for you during the Battle of Mission City.

You also remember falling off a building, the building with the statues that Lennox had sent you and Sam to with the AllSpark in your hands. You remember how scared you were, fearing to hit the ground, but the impact never came. Instead you felt large fingers closing around your body and you heard a rough voice saying, “I’ve got you, little one.”

Mikaela watched your realization with a fond smile. She knew what it was like when people judged you because your knowledge about something was bigger than theirs. That’s how you bonded. She knew her way around cars, you were talented in programming and engineering.

Yes, it was kind of weird, but at the same time it was also poetic. Your heart had always been with machines and as long as she had known you, that was your passion.

What a stroke of luck that someone just like that had fallen for you, Mikaela thought.

“I would suggest that you just talk to him. How bad can it go?”

“Oh, I don't know. Total humiliation? It’s one thing to confess your crush to some guy, but to confess it to someone like ‘Hide?”

Mikaela laughed. “I’m sure you’ll find a way. You wouldn't be the first person who is completely infatuated with their car.”

[jae-bummer]

Platonic Friend Time

Request: jungkookie & prompts 5&11

Prompt:

5) "Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what?"

11) Your bias makes every excuse he can think of to hold your hand.

Prompt list can be found HERE.

Pairing: BTS Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff

.

"My hands are freezing," Jungkook muttered, blowing a hot breath into his fingers before rubbing them together.

"You have poor circulation," you sighed, shifting your weight from side to side.

The two of you had gotten in line at an unnatural hour for an anime themed pop-up shop in one of your favorite cafes. You had agreed to go for days, but with Jungkook's schedule and your aversion to waking up before the sun, it had been difficult to pin down a time. Eventually, Jungkook found a day off and spam texted you until you finally said the magic word, "maybe."

"Maybe" was as good as gold to someone who was essentially raised by a tribe of teenage boys, so it didn't surprise you when a knock sounded at your apartment door before your alarm was set to go off. He was one of your best friends in this life, so you chose to let him in instead of pushing him down the stairs.

"I do not have poor circulation," Jungkook responded, glaring at you. "It's like 0 degrees outside right now."

Rolling your eyes, you tilted your head in his direction. "You have pocket warmers."

After a moment of silence, he cocked an eyebrow. "You're always warm, if you just-"

"I will not be holding your hand," you grumbled. "Your palms get clammy."

"Do not!" he gasped indignantly. Several people in line before you swiveled their heads around, eying the two of you curiously.

"Jungkook," you hissed, while smiling awkwardly at the attention directed your way.

"Mmm," he groaned, crossing his arms and looking away moodily.

"Could you please tell the twelve-year-old that has taken over your body to exorcise itself?"

Now it was his turn to swivel his head at a breakneck speed. You watched as his eyes grew wide, a sign that the gears turning in his head were trying to alert him on how to react.

You hadn't expected for the reaction to be him ramming his meaty shoulder into yours.

"Hey!" you gasped, stumbling over yourself as you lost balance.

Jungkook's expression turned from one of annoyance to horror in an instant as he reached out to catch you. Just barely grabbing your arms before you crashed to the ground, he pulled you up again. Holding on to your hands, he stared at you wordlessly, his eyes swiftly roaming your face.

"Rude," you grumbled, narrowing your eyes.

He let out a sigh. "Y/N, you know I would never-"

"Recognize your own strength? You have that right."

Jungkook shook his head repeatedly. "No! I wouldn't ever mean to hurt you. I didn't think I bumped you that hard!"

"We're circling back around to the "not recognizing your own strength" thing," you chuckled, attempting to finally slide your fingers from his. "Jungkook, Jungkook I need my hands back."

"Why?" he asked, quirking a brow. "What if you fall again?"

"Just standing here?"

"Yes, gravity unchecked is very dangerous," he nodded vigorously.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Why was he being so difficult?

Opening your eyes again, you tried not to flinch under Jungkook's continued observation of your face. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Looking at you how?" he said cautiously. "Why? Do you like it?"

"Well, I mean-" you began, but shook your head. "That's not the point. What is up with you?"

"I'm just enjoying some good, old fashioned, platonic friend time, homie," he said stiffly. "What's up with you?"

"Jungkook." You said his name more sternly.

"Really! Just me and my bud, out on the town, casually holding hands, no big deal at all. Why are you making it a big deal when it's totally not?"

You said nothing, only lifting your brows.

"Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what?" He gasped, finally letting go of your fingers and flinging his into the air.

"So that's why you've been an alien all morning!" you laughed.

Jungkook only blinked at you, his mouth a thin line.

"Oh, lighten up," you grinned, pushing gently at his shoulder. "You have a crush on me..

...You have a crush on me."

The words sank in, causing you to fall into silence. Scrunching your face, you looked up at your friend, trying to see him in a new light.

Jungkook was handsome. There was no need to argue that fact because it just was. He had been growing out his hair, which now stuck haphazardly out of a beanie he had shoved on at your apartment. You liked the longer length and constantly had to talk yourself down from running your fingers through it. That wasn't friendly behavior. Neither was your ever present need to have him laugh or smile in your direction. You had been convinced for so long that you just strove for positive attention, but it only seemed to be the case with him. But then...there was the one time he had fallen asleep on your couch watching a movie and nestled his head into your shoulder. He was just one for physical affection, you had told yourself. It didn't matter if you thoroughly enjoyed it or not.

He was easily one of the best people you knew. Hardworking, talented, and a youthful naivety all tied together in one person. You could write dissertations on why he was nearly perfect in every way, at least to you.

The reality of the situation hit you like a truck.

You had a big, fat crush on Jungkook.

Your eyes finally snapped back into focus, meeting his. Before you could think better of it, you leaned forward and pressed your lips lightly to the corner of his mouth.

"What. Exactly...was that?" he said breathlessly.

"I have a crush on you too," you grinned.

His mouth popped open for a moment before closing again. He blinked a few more times before his lips formed a smile. "Yeah, you do!"

"Kookie!" you groaned as he wrapped his arms around you and began to wiggle you back and forth.

"I like you and you like me back and I didn't ruin everything," he sang in your ear.

You chuckled as he finally stopped his swaying and took a step back. Placing his hand more confidently in yours, he grinned. "My hands aren't cold anymore."

[moriche]

Moriche ▲ ▼ ▲ 30's ▲ ▼ ▲ She/Her

Hi! I'm Moriche. I write fic, I draw things, and sometimes I ramble. I'm in my thirties, married, mom to a toddler, and I've got a background in medieval western-european history. I love dabbling in art. I like to call myself an aspiring artist, and I do both traditional work and digital stuff. I'm also slowly trying to study things like art fundamentals, but pesky things like Real Life tend to get in the way. Writing's my jam as well. I'm currently working on an epic Morrowind longfic called Fear in a Handful of Dust, and it is my pride and joy. You'll often see the main character, Veryn, around on my blog. I'm mainly into the Elder Scrolls but also like a really broad amount of stuff - mostly fantasy. Big fan of (prog) metal too. My inbox is always open for asks, and I'm always happy to make new friends. Feel free to tag me in ask games and WIP Wednesdays! Finally: if you're looking for Vivec-themed emoji's, here's my server hosting those! Feel free to join - it's a no-talk server.

discord.com/invite/KTkJJQNJGy

Fear in a Handful of Dust - by Moriche Rating: M Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort. Gen with a sprinkling of romance. Summary:

Convict. Blade. Telvanni. Nerevarine. ▲ ▼ ▲

He’d been branded an outcast, left to rot in a cell for years. So when Veryn was offered a deal — to work for the Blades and serve out the remainder of his sentence in Morrowind — he took it with both hands. Yet as the Sixth House continues to rise, Veryn ends up tangled deep within a web of foreign spies, twisted cults and strange dreams. Ever haunted by the ghosts of Cyrodiil, he has no choice to carve out a new beginning within the harsh, alien surroundings of Vvardenfell.

[ninnosaurus]

Just something small 100% inspired by @redsrooftopprincess portable kinetic heaters hc <3

Warnings for: near death experience, talk about needles. I think that's it? If not, let me know. Written on my phone lmao. No beta, I like living on the edge.

Raphael is scared of needles.

Horribly, extremely scared of needles. Has been for as long as he can remember. Which is hilarious when you think about it. Big bad Raph who has a big bad tattoo on his bicep. Big bad Raph who could probably flip a car if he really put his mind to it.

Big bad Raph who jumped out a plane, and who fought an alien on a ever building weapon of destruction. Is scared. Of needles.

Mikey likes to tease him for it, only for Raphael to get back at him by dropping a fake spider down his shell. Knowing the runt of the four never liked spiders, even less having them on him.

Truth be told, it never was the needle itself he was scared of. It's what happened when he had to get up close and personal with one. A memory he often think of when he fiddles with the handheld device that's connected to the implant under his shell.

"Dad! Daaaaad, daad please help!"

Splinter rushed towards the small voice calling him. His boys were all independent, strong already. But when they called for him like that, it was bad.

"What's going on, my son?"

The rat sat down next to the pile of turtles. The youngest had apparently woken up from their nap for some reason.

"Raph isn't waking up, dad... And he's really, really cold." Mikey shoved his brother again only for him to roll over and flop onto Donnie instead.

Their dad took the small hand of Raphael in his. Inside, he was in a panic. What was going on? Is he just deeply asleep? Is he sick? Did he di- no, he can't think like that. He had to keep calm and to not freak his sons out.

"Raphael, Raphael, my boy, it's time to wake up."

He gingerly lifted the child up and put him on his lap. He was cold. Floppy. But he was breathing, just extremely weakly. He had a pulse, yes. But that too was hard to find, and barely there.

Leonardo came to stand next to him.

"He said- he said that he should sleep on the top because- because he's the strongest. So if anything happened he could protect us." He was fighting so hard to be strong, to not show he was close to tears, thinking his brother had died in his sleep.

Splinter hummed in reply.

"Come, boys. We'll get him to the wash room."

"Why?" Mikey asked as he took hold of Splinter's tail as they walked.

"I am going to splash some water on him. To try and wake him up."

Hours passed. Raphael still not waking up. Splinter didn't know what to do. Where could he take the child? Nowhere. His other three sons stayed close to the sleeping child.

The rat was deep in meditation when a small hand tapped his own. Cracking an eye open he was face to face with the big eyes of Donatello, who when he saw his dad had seen him, decided to plop his body in his father's lap.

"Yes, Donatello?"

"I think we need to warm him up."

"How come?"

"Well, me, Leo and Mikey are awake... And I think it's because we shared more body heat." His hands started moving as he spoke. "Raph just had our shells to lay on, and that got him too cold because our shells aren't that warm but our skin is because there's more blood flow there compared to our shells-"

Splinter huffed a laugh as he listened to his son prattle on without taking a break to breathe.

"What do you think, dad?"

The turtle in his lap looked up at him.

"I think it sounds like an excellent idea."

Leonardo and Mikey were both in the middle of running around in the wash room, filling cups with water to throw at each other. One of them laughing as the other slipped on a puddle.

Donnie, however, was in full focus mode. Closely watching Raphael who was currently resting on their father's chest in the tub. Splinter had to admit that he did notice the color slowly returning to the child. He discreetly checked the pulse and yes, even that was starting to return to a stronger flow.

"Is it working, dad?"

He didnt miss the worry in Donnie's voice. How it wavered. Like he would start crying at any moment if Raphael didn't start moving soon. He reached out a hand to cup his sons face.

"He is going to be fine."

It was late when he finally woke up. Groggy, out of it, confused. Shaking like a leaf. But finding himself cuddled into something soft. He rubbed his eyes and looked up, relieved to see he was hugged close to his dad.

Leo stirred next to him, seemingly annoyed at getting bumped by something.

"Stop movin'..."

"Sorry..."

His brother instantly sat up. "Raph?! You're awake?"

Confusion clear on his face, Raph just looked at Leo.

"Uh... Yeah?"

"What's with all the noi- Raphie!"

Mikey flung himself at his brother, prompting an "oof" out of their dad.

Years had passed since then. Splinter had told him he'd been sleeping for about three days before he fully woke up.

Raphael idly scratch the place where Donatello had made a small cut after - trying his best - to numb the area. With. That. Fuckin'. Needle. Now, it barely showed a scar. How he had managed to build something like that at such an age, no one actually knew.

After nearly dying during a nap that winter many years ago, Donnie had made it his mission to learn about their biology. Quickly realizing they were extremely sensitive to cold. Research that led to him trying to figure out how to combat it. Something that resulted in portable heaters.

Only problem was: They had to be under their skin.

Raphael wasn't scared of needles before nearly dying. Found them kind of cool and had to be scolded by his dad many, many times because he tried picking the ones he found up. But something in him happened after that. Maybe it was that the numbing didn't work for him, and that Donnie had to cut into the sensitive area connecting his shell to his skin?

He's not sure. All he does know is that he's thankful his brother did it. And that he can't stand needles.

Man, he really hates needles.