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barbecuebabybackribs · 4 years ago

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Their Mate (Male! Reader x Jasper hale, Emmett Cullen, Edward Cullen)

Requested: Yes @shamelessloverhairdopainter

Length: Short (Sorry)

(I’m not a fan how this turned out, It was perfect in my head but it came out all EGH)

Oh how lovely being in a relationship with the three strongest vampires was, but oh how much of a pain in the ass it could be from time to time.

Usually it was pretty minor things such as fighting over there relationships with me, for instance jumping from Jasper gently caressing my hand and smiling when I leaned into his shoulder telling him about my day, to Emmett bounding in and dragging me away to play super smash bros with him, to Edward beckoning me over because he simply wanted my attention, and then a fight usually ensues about who I should spend the day with.

That’s the only fighting in this relationship I’m used to, it’s the only fighting I can handle.

So standing in front of my three extremely pissed off boyfriends while I ran through the very violent threat the Volturi threw my way, the main gist of it was humans can’t know about us, your boyfriend is a human so we’re going to come and tear him limb from limb- not exactly comforting knowing essentially the top dogs of the vampire world wants your head on a stake.

I could feel the anxiety course through me, twisting my stomach into knots, it almost felt like it had wrapped so tightly around me it was stealing every breath I took- And watching Emmett and Edward bickering on what to do wasn’t helping, Edward wanted to try and reason with them, no matter how unreasonable they were, and Emmett- oh poor Emmett had suggested setting a date on when they’d turn me so the Volturi would be kept at bay, But neither Jasper nor Edward seemed to appreciate him nonchalantly suggesting turning me in the foreseeable future- even if it was becoming clear it was a very likely out-come.

A gentle yet frigid touch to my shoulder snapped me from my anxious whirlwind of thoughts, and as I turned a sudden calm overtook me but I knew it wasn’t genuine, although looking into the beautiful golden eyes of Jasper normally would put me at great ease, however now I could tell it was artificially made by the one and only- Jasper Hale, or Whitlock as in insisted I call him in private.

“Jazz, you know I appreciate it but you also know I don’t like you using your powers on me.” I smiled at him, taking his cold hand and moving it into my own, “Don’t you want to air your opinion? I mean Edward and Em already let us know what they think, what do you think we should do?” I asked playing with his hand, putting aside him easing my anxiety with his powers for the moment.

“I think,” He paused for a moment, looking over my shoulder to Edward and Emmett, before looking into my eyes again, “As long as your with us, we’ll keep you safe. This isn’t the first time we’ve had to deal with the Volturi.” His thumb gently traced my jawline as he continued, “If it come to a battle, we’ll be prepared, This isn’t exactly my first battle.”

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts.” A voice piped up from right behind me, forcing me to let out an audible gasp and snap my head towards my other boyfriend Emmett, who seemingly had put to rest his argument since he was standing next to Edward like they weren’t just seething with rage moment before.

“Surprisingly I agree with Emmett.” Edward said with a hint of distaste in his tone but and overall comforting tone, “We’ll protect you no matter what.”

“New rule,” I sighed knowing there was no stopping them but you blame a guy for trying, “You can’t fight over me and you can’t fight for me- it’s way to dangerous and I’m not worth all that trou-” I ceased my talking when I saw the look and all three of their faces at what I was implying.

But it was true- risking the lives of all three of them and most likely more, just to save mine? A human with no particular talent or worth in the grand scheme of things-

“Stop thinking your worthless, Y/N. We wouldn’t be here if you weren’t worth it.” Edward stated as if it was obvious.

“Surprisingly I agree with Edward,” Emmett mimicked and I could tell by his smile he was joking but his tone remained serious, “I’m more then willing to kick some Volturi ass for you.”

I couldn’t hold back the breathless laugh that escaped my lips when he spoke, leave it to Emmett to lighten the incredibly dark mood. I could feel Jasper let up his control over my emotions and I could feel the anxiety I felt earlier take hold but it wasn’t as bad as earlier, it was still there on the edge of my every breath and in the pit of my stomach, but with every word that left there mouth I grew more and more comfortable around them.

“Well thanks.” I chuckled shaking my head slightly, turning back to Jasper and smiled at him, I could tell he was at ease knowing I was at ease, and despite the fact that so much was going wrong, in this moment everything felt right.

Two large arms slithered around my waist and pulled me flush against his body, “So, sorry, but I won’t be following either of your rules.” Emmett teased while resting his head on my shoulder, swaying gently back and forth.

“Well if he isn’t going to follow them,” Edward’s voice sounded from besides me and in the flash of an eye he was yanking me out of the gentle grasps of Emmett- which was only possible because Emmett didn’t expect to have to ‘guard’ me quite yet.

“Neither will I.” Edward finished his sentence smugly.

“Boys,” I joked, “How about we don’t play hot potato with the human.”

This time I was the one making the three of them laugh out, and in this moment, in the arms of Edward and looking at two of the three people I loved more then life itself, everything felt right- not perfect but nothing in life is perfect especially when your juggling three relationships, but god damn it does this moment come close

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dreamwraith · 3 years ago

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Baking

Summary: In home economics, Tucker and Danny are told to bake a cake. The teachers should know better than to pair those two together when food is involved… Warning: Danny and Tucker are a bit sexist, but hopefully no worse than canon Pairings: Danny and Tucker being best friends. Implied DxS feelings, but nothing official

On Ao3

Danny drummed his fingers against the countertop, and the dull tap-tap-tap-tap created a steady rhythm to the Dumpty Humpty song he had stuck in his head. A tap-tip-tap soon joined his beat, adding a new dimension to the cadence. Danny glanced at his best friend and smiled when he saw Tucker tapping the countertop with his pencil. Tucker returned the expression, but he added a quirked eyebrow. Danny, not one to back down, answered the unspoken challenge by humming softly. As the two reached the chorus, Tucker used his other hand to beat against his leg.

Seconds away from reaching Jonathan's awesome guitar solo, a great SNAP destroyed their tempo and made the boys jump. Danny was so startled, his jump caused his chair to overbalance. Their classmates burst out laughing, and Danny blushed in embarrassment. He quickly climbed back into his seat, but the damage was already done to his reputation.

Their teacher lifted the yard stick from Danny's desk, smirking in satisfaction. "Serves you boys right," she said. "This is Home Economics, not music class. If I catch you goofing off again, I'll be forced to give you detention—and you and I would both hate it if we have to spend more than our allotted hour together."

The two boys blinked stupidly at her.

She glowered. "I'll make this simple. If I catch you two playing around in this classroom again, I'll have you lazy yokels scrubbing every inch of my kitchen!" She turned sharply on her heel and made her way to the front of the class again.

After she'd returned to her lecture and the class stopped paying attention to them, Tucker leaned toward Danny and whispered, "Dude, did she just call us 'lazy yokels'?"

Danny nodded dumbly. "I think she did. What are yokels?"

"No clue…"

"I bet Sam would know if she were here…"

"I bet she'd blame the word usage on Ms. Loretta's man-hating issues."

"If that's true and she hates us, how are we even passing?"

Tucker flashed Danny a wide, white smile. "Not even that witch can resist my charms, Danny!"

Danny smirked, and leaned his cheek against his propped up hand. "There are ten girls in this class, Tucker, and we're the only guys. If no girl can resist your charms, how come you haven't got a date yet?"

Tucker flinched before scowling and muttering something too quiet for Danny to hear.

"What?"

"I said, it's because you keep stealing all the girls!" he whispered.

Danny drew back, blinking in surprise. "What?" He frowned. "What are you talking about, Tucker? I haven't even talked to half these girls!"

"And yet they keep on falling for you!"

"They are not!"

"They are too!"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

"Prove it!"

"I—"

"Fenton! Foley!"

Danny and Tucker jumped, recoiling away from their counter. But the sound of a large stick striking metal didn't reach their ears and they slowly opened their eyes. Three counters away, at the front of the class, their teacher raised an eyebrow at their odd behavior.

Danny smiled nervously. "Y-yes, Ms. Loretta?"

"Turn to page 324 in your Home Economics book. You and Mr. Foley are baking a cake today."

"Us?" Danny asked.

"Bake a cake?" Tucker added, equally incredulous.

"By ourselves?"

"That is what you are here for, isn't it?" Ms. Loretta demanded. "To learn how to bake?"

Half a classroom away, and Loretta's angered presence was still enough to make Danny and Tucker cringe away from her. "Yes, ma'am," they said.

"Good." She returned to calling out groups.

Danny and Tucker looked at each other, flinching in unison.

"I don't suppose you know how to bake a cake?" Danny asked his best friend.

"I know how to charm my mom into making me a cake…" Tucker answered. "You?"

"Jazz usually handles the normal necessities like suppers and birthday parties." Danny pulled his book toward him and opened to the directed page. "I guess we'll just have to follow the instructions."

"Easier said than done, dude." Tucker tapped his finger below the tsp. symbol. "What does that even mean?"

Danny scratched his head. "Um, I think it means tablespoon…"

Tucker groaned, and dropped his head onto the countertop. "It would be so much easier to get a date with a girl if Ms. Wichita actually paired us up with the opposite sex. I'm always stuck with you in this class!"

"Normally, I'd be insulted, but this time, I agree with you. How the heck does she expect us to bake a cake without a girl's knowledge?"

"It's a conspiracy! She knows why we signed up for this dumb class, Danny. She knows…"

"No, she knows why you signed up," Danny corrected. "I'm here because my best friend insisted he needed a wingman."

"Yeah, but you've turned out to be a terrible wingman. You're supposed to send the ladies my way, not gather your own entourage."

Danny rolled his eyes. "We're back to that? You're being ridiculous, Tuck. None of these girls like me."

"Oh yeah?" Tucker lifted his head, and searched the room. He pointed to Natasha, a geeky redhead with braces and a lot of freckles. "Go ask her for a cup of sugar."

Danny raised an eyebrow. "But…we have sugar, Tuck. Why would I—"

"Just go ask her, clueless!"

Danny pouted but snatched up a measuring cup. "I'm not clueless…" he muttered to himself, walking off towards Natasha's station. Tucker must have heard, because he chuckled and shook his head at his friend's obliviousness.

Natasha's partner, a brunet named Amanda, spotted Danny walking towards them, and she quickly elbowed her friend. Natasha looked at her, and Amanda answered her silent question by pointing at Danny. Natasha's eyes widened, but she smiled at Danny when he reached their counter.

Danny smiled back. "Uh, hey, Natasha. Hey, Amanda."

"Hey, Danny," they said.

"What brings you over here?" Natasha asked.

Danny held up his white measuring cup. "Tucker sent me over to get some sugar."

Natasha glanced over at his and Tucker's counter, frowning slightly. "Don't you have sugar?"

"Yeah, but something must be wrong with it, because Tucker was really insistent I get some from you guys—er, girls."

Amanda and Natasha shared a look, and then burst out in giggles.

Danny blinked. "What?"

Natasha took the cup from his hands, smiling oddly at him. "It's nothing, Danny. Just a cup right?"

"Yup. Oh, and what does t-s-p stand for?"

"Teaspoon."

"…Oh…" Danny blushed and rubbed his neck, thinking, Whew, that was close.

Natasha turned around to get the sugar, giggling softly. Amanda leaned toward Danny, staring eagerly, almost creepily into his eyes. "So has Goth Girl made her move yet?"

Danny leaned back, blinking. "What? What move?" His eyes widened. "Sam's moving? Why haven't I heard of this?"

"Easy there, Danny," Natasha said, turning back around. "Sam's not going anywhere. It's just an inside joke."

"Oh." Danny pointed at the full cup of sugar in her hands. "Is that my sugar?"

"Uh." Natasha blushed, and jerked the cup out to him, the motion sending some of the crystals over the edge. "Yes. Here."

Danny took the cup, and flashed the girls a grateful smile. "Thanks. See you later."

"Yeah…bye, Danny."

Danny waved his hand as he turned around and made his way back to his own station. He heard Amanda say something about brunets, but she spoke too quietly for him to hear. He shrugged. They were odd, but then, all girls except for Sam were a mystery to him.

Well, he amended, Sam is a mystery sometimes too, but she's like one of the guys! …If I said that to her face she'd probably kill me…

Tucker grinned at Danny once he reached their counter. "So…"

Danny raised an eyebrow. "So?"

"How did it go?"

Danny set the cup of sugar on the countertop. "I got the sugar. What was wrong with ours, by the way?"

Tucker frowned. "That's it? Just the sugar? You didn't get her phone number or anything?"

"No…" Danny said slowly. "Was I supposed to get her phone number for you? Is that what a wingman would do?"

Tucker face-palmed. "My gosh, Danny, you are clueless."

"Hey! I'm still new to this wingman stuff!"

"I don't mean that!" Tucker sighed, and looked up at the ceiling forlornly. "Where did I go wrong with him? I taught him everything I know, and yet he turned out like this…"

Danny wrinkled his nose, eyeing his best friend warily. "You're…acting weird, dude. …Are you being overshadowed?

"Of course not!"

"Then can we just bake the cake already?"

Tucker shrugged. "Might as well. Clearly nothing else is going to happen in this class…And it might be fun…"

Danny chuckled. "If Loretta heard you say that, she'd kick you out of her kitchen for suspicious behavior."

"Good thing she didn't hear it then."

"True." Danny pulled the cooking book towards him, and read a few of the instructions. "Alright. It says we first have to get a large mixing bowl."

Tucker bent down, and reached into the cupboard beneath their counter. He pulled out two bowls. "Red one or blue one?" "Does it matter?"

"I guess not." He put the blue one away, and placed the red one on the counter. "Next?"

"Um, 'pour in two cups of all purpose flour'," Danny read.

Tucker cocked his head to the side. "Is there another purpose for flour?"

"I once dumped a bag of flour over myself when I was eight," Danny said slowly. "Dad saw me, shouted GHOST, and brought out his prototype ecto-gun…Does that count?"

Tucker winced. He reached out a hand, and patted Danny's shoulder. "That's rough, dude."

His best friend shrugged; the present had numbed the pain from the past. Danny opened the flour container and measured out a cup. Tucker watched him pour the fluffy whiteness into the bowl with large, unblinking eyes. Danny repeated the process, and when he poured the last cup into the bowl, Tucker sighed in relief.

"This isn't so bad. We can totally do this!"

"Yeah," Danny agreed, smiling, "so far so good. Next is one, one half cup of sugar." He snatched the acquired cup of sugar off the counter, and dumped it into the bowl. He frowned questionably at Tucker "…Should I get a half cup from Natasha and Amanda, too?"

Tucker rolled his eyes. "No. Our sugar will do."

"If our sugar was fine, why did you make me get some from them?"

"A misguided attempt to help my friend overcome his issues," Tucker responded curtly. "Pour in another cup of sugar already."

"But the book says to only add another half cup."

"So? It's sugar!" Tucker waved his hands around. "How can sugar ruin anything?"

Danny grinned. "We'll have the sweetest cake in the class!"

"You bet!"

Danny dumped another cup of sugar into the bowl.

"'Half cup of shortening'," Tucker read. He frowned. "What the heck is shortening?"

"I don't know," Danny said. "Is it supposed to make you shrink?"

"Who wants that? Leave it out?"

"Leave it out."

"'Three and a half t-s-p of baking soda'…Are you sure that means tablespoons?"

Danny brows furrowed, thinking back. "Um, actually, I think Natasha said it was something else…"

"Like…?"

"…Uh, what's that other measuring spoon?"

"…I don't know!" Tucker threw up a hand. "Do I look like the kind of guy who would know? Why don't you go and ask a girl what it means?"

"Me?" Danny asked incredulously. "Why me?"

"Because the girls actually like you!"

"Don't start that again!"

"It's true!"

"It is not!"

"Problem, boys?"

Danny gasped, startled into another jump. His hand knocked against the bowl, and it would have fallen off the counter, if Tucker hadn't jumped forward and caught it. Both boys sighed in relief. They flashed each other triumphant grins, but Ms. Loretta, standing over them, frowned disapprovingly.

"Be careful!" she hissed.

"Sorry, Ms. Loretta," the boys said meekly.

"By the way, teach," Tucker said before Loretta could turn away. "What does t-s-p stand for?"

Loretta scowled. "You would already know the answer to that if you actually paid attention in my class." She walked away, leaving the boys to gape after her without an answer.

"Now that," Danny said slowly, "is one mean teacher…"

"Uh-huh…" Tucker agreed.

Danny rubbed his neck, and asked hesitantly, "What do we do now?"

"We'll use tablespoons," Tucker responded, like it was obvious. "As they say, you're first guess is your best guess…or something like that." He pulled a tablespoon out of the drawer and started measuring out the suspected amount of baking soda.

"I don't know, Tuck," Danny said hesitantly. "I have a bad feeling about this…"

Tucker scoffed, rolling his eyes. "We're baking a cake, Danny. What's the worst that can happen? Worst case scenario, the Lunch Lady makes an appearance and gets in a fight with Ms. Grouch…Actually, that'd be totally awesome!" Tucker laughed, imagining the fight. Danny smiled. "Now where's the vinegar? Mom's secret ingredient for everything is vinegar…"

------------------------------------------

"FENTON! FOLEY!"

Danny fought evil ghosts on a regular basis, but somehow Ms. Loretta's shouts always made him jump. It made no sense to him! And because the floor was covered in slippery foam, when he landed on his feet, he instantly lost his footing and fell on his butt with splash. Tucker managed to avoid Danny's fate by clinging desperately to the countertop, but his feet did a funny dance over the slick tiles.

Danny pointed a finger at his best friend. "He did it!"

"Lies!" Tucker shouted. He regained his balance, and pointed a finger of his own at Danny. "I'm innocent! Danny's the one who thought t-s-p meant tablespoons!"

"But Tucker was the one who wanted to add the vinegar!"

"And Danny didn't stop me!"

"That explains the foam," Ms. Loretta growled, her voice strained, "but not the flour or the eggs!"

Tucker grimaced as egg yolk slid down his face. "Danny threw eggs at me because he's in some serious denial."

"That's not true!" Danny objected. "I threw eggs at him, because Tucker dumped the flour over m-m-m—ACHOO!" Danny sneezed, and the force of the blast sent his head colliding with the bottom cabinets. The force made the white powder waft off Danny's hair and float around his head. "Ow…"

"But I only dumped the flour over him because I got frustrated with the cake and his cluelessness!"

"I'm not clueless!"

"Yes you are!"

"No I'm not!"

"If you're not clueless, then how come you haven't noticed all the moves Sam has made?"

"What moves?"

"You would know if you weren't so clueless!"

"I'm not clueless!"

"Yes you are! And you're a terrible wingman!"

"I never even wanted to be your wingman!"

"Good because you suck at it!"

"And you suck at baking!"

"Like you're any better!"

"I—"

"DETENTION!"

#Danny Phantom #Danny Fenton #Tucker Foley #apples keep the ghosts away #crossposting from ff.net #old fic #writing trance #listen; I adore their friendship

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my-artblog-is-ssjumi · 4 years ago

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5, 9, 20, 24, and 25 if you feel like it!!

5) character you were most surprised to end up writing

that one’s kinda funny bc on one hand i barely surprise myself with stuff like that bc i’m usually immediately swept away by the excitement of having found an approach to a character whose p.o.v. i haven’t considered before when inspiration hits

on the other hand i have an Ati/Anzu fic somewhere on my harddrive that i never posted and keep forgetting about and i’m surprised each and every time i remember its existence lol

9) what, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

existing. breathing. being a person. thinking about/watching all the ways in which ppl can and do fuck themselves up. listening to music. that kinda stuff.

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?

the stories i end up liking the most i usually finish in one session. idk if i’d call those “long” tho since i pretty much only do oneshots these days...

for multichapter stuff i usually go scene by scene like. i only take breaks in between scenes, not within them. (as far as i remember)

tl;dr - both. i think the answer is both.

24) have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?

love how this question implies that i kept any of that knowledge over time XD which. i most certainly didn’t.

but yeah, while i was writing Placebo i was pretty up to date on topics like depression, drug-induced psychosis, schizophrenia and the medication of latter. which was pretty handy since i was studying psychology at the time and it did help me out later in a meeting with my prof lol. i’m pretty sure what little i remember of that knowledge is mostly outdated by now tho since it’s been like. 13 years or so.

i also used to know a lot about Japanese food and its preparation, table manners, what stuff was available in the 1930s and 1940s, Japanese and American jazz of that time... these kinda things. because of a text rpg i had with a friend that took place over there in late 1945. and yeah. it was as problematic as it sounds lmao

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

kinda already answered in question 46 of that other ask game from a while ago

i’m struggling a little finding another example. like. i’m pretty satisfied with almost everything i upload and mostly nostalgic about the older stuff i’m not that satisfied with anymore, but also feel like most of it rly relies on the context to make it “pop”. so. tough choice...

here’s an excerpt from a oneshot about Mike’s feelings about ~Bennoda~ tho that i like bc of the topic and the overall vibe:

It's not like it ruined anything, this funny little word and the meaning attached to it.

It's not like it spoiled something.

It's not like it felt invasive or anything, like dozens and hundreds of eyes were on him even when he's all alone with one of his best friends.

It's not like he could feel them breathe down his neck that one time, that one stupid little time they sat underneath the stars in the gardens behind Laurel House, a few days before Chester went to rehab for the second time, drunk and at a loss for words on how thankful they were to know each other, hands reaching out on their own accord, lips meeting, breaths hitching, hearts beating...

It's not like Chester having been the first to pull away with a bitter "ok, this feels wrong" or how he got up after that and went back inside and left Mike behind, hurt or anything.

And it's not like the snap of a twig and rustling in a nearby bush and clouds passing in front of the full moon, casting shadows on the ground all around him made Mike feel watched, seen, surrounded, or made him panic because it felt like all these eyes on him were basking in his vulnerability, the tears in his eyes, his shaking, his inability to breathe properly, his pain.

No, it's not like that at all.

It's fine.

He's fine.

It's funny!

[...]

He just laughs about someone on twitter asking his wife about That Word.

And jokes when Chester ever so briefly fails to pretend he didn't know about it.

And neither the weak smile on his friend's lips nor the bile rising up in Mike's throat are that bitter at all even.

It's funny, actually.

Kind of, at least.

It's fine.

#pandirpus #ask game #Get To Know Your Author ask game #RPF #fanfiction

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videogamelover99 · 8 years ago

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Waking Days Ch1 - Enter Bill Cipher

A/N: Helllooo and thank you for being so patient with me. I know, I know, with that little joke I had it coming, but look, I’ve finally delivered!

I took a long while with figuring out a title for the long fic, and I may change it later, but this is what I’ve got for now, so feedback is appreciated. (And yes, the chapter title is literally the same one as from Flat Dreams. I am a nerd.) Enjoy, you guys. :3

Warning: Implied substance abuse.

AU by @doodledrawsthings. Based on Flat Dreams by @pengychan.

“He that sleeps feels not the tooth-ache.”

W. Shakespeare, Cymbeline.

Ever since he took that deal, he’d been regretting it.

Looking back now, he would take a million years in that stone tomb over what that giant salamander had subjected him to. He hadn’t expected on getting his power back, not really, but the least that jerk could do was give him a proper form. Hell, or at least keep him a triangle. But he’d never expected this. He’d been thrown into this form with no directions, no explanation except “You must absolve your crime.”

Yeah, great, what the hell did that even mean.

He hated it. He hated everything about this stupid body, about this weak pitiful meat sack that frilly asshole decided to shove him in. He had nothing, no power, no immortality, no means of escape. And if that wasn't enough, he was slowly dying. He could even feel it. The slow, painful way each cell was loosing its energy. In just a few decades he would degrade, grow cold and end up feeding worms before he knew it, if this sack of flesh didn't give up on him even sooner. After watching humans for so long, he'd seen just how easily they could die, hell he'd even been the cause of a lot of them. He'd found it funny, how easily they can break.

He didn't now.

He hated this. He was Bill Cipher, bringer of nightmare, All-Seeing Eye, not some...some puny mortal who couldn't tie his own shoelaces. Stuff like that was just annoying. There was no point in knowing what humans did with their shoes, so he hadn't bothered looking. Now he could barely tie a knot, not until Shooting Star had shown him.

Mabel Pines was the easiest to deal with. Innocent and trusting, the kid was the easiest to get on his side. Was it manipulation? Sure. No surprise there. That didn’t mean he didn’t like the kid, though the whole defeating him part did put a damper on things. Because that spray paint had hurt, damn it.

Still, out of all the Pines, Shooting Star was the most agreeable one, no doubt about that. Neither Fez not Sixer would try anything, not with the kid involved. Security measure, in a way.

That's what he told himself most times when the brat decided to insert herself into his day like some kind of annoying dandelion that suddenly sprang on the lawn. Not needed, and obnoxious to boot.

The chess game had been easy, and Bill had been pretty bored anyway. Making fun of one of the Pines and getting something out of it was almost too good of a deal to pass up, even if that something was just a lousy sweater. Still, the kid knew how to make him look good, even in yarn.

The chess thing...Whatever it was, continued, as did the numerous sweaters the kid somehow managed to conjure in record time. And, okay, Bill had to admit it was fun. Shooting Star was nowhere near the most impressive opponent he'd played against, but boy if she wasn't interesting. The kid seemed to find the most ridiculous ways to lose, including chasing off his knight with her king back to his side of the board. Of course, that had been pretty much suicide, but Star satisfied herself with a really stupid loss, and Bill wasn't exactly complaining, not while her sweaters were so damn soft.

Huh, that was a weird thing to like. Must be a human thing.

…

“Watcha doing?”

Bill opened his eyes, but didn’t bother getting up when Mabel sat down next to him, letting her legs dangle from the edge of the roof. “Contemplating your pointless existence.”

“Rude.” The kid swung her legs a bit, before crawling over to sit next to him, the wood creaking under her weight. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m slowly dying.” He hadn’t meant that to come out as easily as it did. Mortality was making him lose his grip.

“Well, yeah, that’s kind of a thing humans do, y’know?” Bill closed his eyes again. He didn’t want to have this conversation, not with Shooting Star of all people. “Though we usually ignore it.”

“How?” No, stop. Ignoring what this body did to him would be almost the same as giving up. Which was ridiculous. He was going to find a way out, he knew it, he just needed to-

“Well, stop thinking about it, first of all.” The lighthearted tone meant that the kid was teasing him. Mabel Pines. Laughing at him. “You’re not going anywhere right now, so relax! It’s not like whining about it will help, ya big nerd.”

Bill didn’t respond, choosing to ignore the little girl and hopefully preserve any dignity he had left. Even if her laugh made him wanna throw her off the roof.

“Aw, don’t be like that.” No response. “Come on, is Silly Billy sulking again? I know what he needs: a sticker, that’s what!” With a small ‘boop’, Bill felt her stick something on his nose. He tore the sticker off, crumbing it and tossing it her way.

“Didn’t I tell you not to do that?”

Mabel grinned, looking pleased at finally getting a reaction out of the demon. “Do what?”

“You’re thirteen, but you act like a five year old.”

The girl’s grin fell, telling that the quip had met its mark. “You’re the one to talk.” She grumbled, poking him in the side, hard. The demon yelped, not expecting that, his body giving a spasm, forcing him to finally sit up and wrap his arms around his sides. Completely on impulse. Sometimes, human instincts were just really, really inconvenient.

Mabel blinked, looking from Bill to her hand and then back to Bill. Her face slowly stretched into a wide grin. “So you’re ticklish even out of my brother’s body.”

“Mabel Pines, I swear if you-No! No-AHAHAHA!” The kid pounced, digging her fingers into his sides, making the demon erupt with uncontrollable laughter. Aren’t people supposed to laugh at what goes their way? This was torture. The demon was hyper-aware of every sensation, of every finger that managed to dig in-between his ribs. His arms flailed around, trying to throw the kid off, but she was too damn persistent. In what felt like centuries Star finally relented, letting the demon push her away and laying down next to him, giggling as well. Bill collapsed into a boneless heap, trying to catch his breath. He was supposed to be angry, livid even, for letting any mortal touch him. Yet he couldn’t even fight off the grin that was left on his face. “I hate you.”

“Aw, don’t be like that! I was just trying to make you feel better.”

“How the hell was that supposed t-” Bill frowned, cutting himself off. Despite the heat on his face and the way his body still heaved for oxygen, there was something different about it. It was like out of all the 630 newtons gravity had dumped on him, half of that was thrown off. He did feel better, though that made no sense. “Hold on, how did you do that?”

Mabel shrugged. “I think it’s like, hormones and stuff? I don’t know, you’re the all-knowing demon. But it’s a human thing. Laughing just makes us feel better.”

Bill stared at her for a long time. Of course, laughing had made him feel better too, back when he was still all-powerful and all that jazz, but-

Liar.

He winced, ignoring the voice.

“Hey, don’t get all nihilistic on me again! And I was being such a good therapist.” The girl crossed her arms over her chest when she saw Bill’s questioning stare. “What, I know some complicated words! Someone has to understand what my nerdy bro is saying.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Mabel bristled. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Bill grinned at her, folding his arms behind his head. “Oh, ya know...starting to wonder which one of you is the smart pines twin after all.”

Star didn’t respond, so Bill pushed on. “I mean, for all the brains you claim Pine Tree has, he was a heck of alot easier to swindle. Don’t get me wrong, you handed that rift to me on a silver platter,” a wince, “But I had to put on a whole other meat suit for ya to fall for it. Ol’ Dipping Sauce took the bait without me even bothering with all that. And! You still figured out a way to stop me. Hinder me. Whatever.” Couldn’t give her too much credit there, the third dimension was kinda out of his veil of expertise at the time. “From what it looks like, you’re the one with the brains around here.” Bill finished, looking up at the kid. She was staring back blankly at him “Uh, Shooting Star?”

Despite the fact that he knew he was laying it on thick, the demon had to admit, the kid was perceptive, sometimes even more than all the other Pines smashed together. That was what he should have watched out for.

“That’s what you said to Grunkle Ford as well, huh?”

Bill froze, before giving himself a mental kick in the head. He was playing it up too much. Of course...

Mabel smiled, the smile too sad to be her own. “You said all that nice stuff about him being ‘special’ and ‘smart’ and he believed you.” She got up. “And I thought- no that’s stupid. Dipper was right, I shouldn’t have bothered.” the girl turned to leave when a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist, clutching it a little too tightly.

“Don’t.” he hated how his own voice sounded, almost pleading, and it was stupid, because who said he really needed this kid? So his original plan to get her on his side crashed and burned, so what? She was just a stepping stone, a way for him to finally get out of this body, and then he wouldn’t need her anymore. Bill Cipher didn’t need anyone.

It’s just that being left alone on the roof all the sudden seemed like the worst thing that could possibly happen.

Mabel shook his hand off, but didn’t leave, turning back to him. Then she suddenly reached to wipe her face with her sleeve, and Bill’s chest constricted. It was like something inside of it was taken into a cold, vice grip, and he couldn’t shake it away. What was that? Why can’t I-

You know exactly what it is.

The girl sniffed, finally letting her arm fall back by her side, her face a little redder than normal. “I don’t...I don’t want to be fake friends with you.” she looked away, her face scrunched up. “If you don’t want to be my friend that’s fine, just don’t- don’t fake it.”

Bill scowled, and turned away from Star’s snot-covered face. It was really annoying, for some reason. Her leaking.

Mabel slowly came to sit next to him, tossing her legs over the edge and wiping off the stray wetness with her sleeve. “I wanna help you,” she said after a while, both of them staring straight ahead, at the last stray rays of the darkening sky. “But I don’t know if-”

“Why?”

The girl shrugged a bit to Bill’s question. “I’m Mabel Pines. It’s what I do.”

The demon grimaced, feeling angry at that statement. “It’s not gonna do ya any favors.”

Star shrugged again, letting her head fall on his shoulder. “That’s okay.”

He didn’t push her off.

...

"Just who does she think she is?!" Bill threw the scissors across the room, smashing them into the far wall and making a severely satisfying dent in the wood. Would probably get him in a big one with Fez later, but at the moment he was too livid to care. How dare she? How dare she!? "I did everything she wanted and she- and-" You did not. Bill scowled, his hands clenching at his sides. Get lost. You invoked me. How many times do I have to tell you to leave? As many as you think will satisfy you. Bill's eyes shot to the water tank in the corner. Small, pink creature met his gaze. He was almost tempted to pick up the scissors and throw them at the tank instead, but that would definitely not go well with Fez, and he wasn't exactly eager to sleep outside tonight. You are lying to yourself. Bill bristled. What the hell do you know about- What do you think she wanted? A better world! I made that happen! There was a light ticking sound. That bastard was laughing at him. Not everyone shares your definition of "better".

No. No no no. He was sure he's made it-

“Make it worth something.”

He had. If she couldn't see that, then that was her problem. They ruined everything, and after all they did to her, she still-

Liar.

“I don’t CARE!” Bill rezched up to pull viciously on his hair, but the sharp stab of pain did nothing to block out that voice. “You act like you know everything. Well, YOU DON’T KNOW A GODDAMN THING! SHE DOESN’T KNOW A GODDAMN THING! And if you THINK you can TELL ME WHAT TO DO, WELL, you’re even MORE OF AN IDIOT THAN I THOUGHT. Now get the FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD.”

There was no answer. Bill breathed heavily, surrounded by silence.

...

The kid had the scissors. She'd taken them long before Fordsy could even lay eyes on them, and that was probably for the better. He needed them. And by a stroke of luck, they were just within his reach.

Bill tripped over a ball of loose yarn, shaking off the string and cursing under his breath. The kid was fast asleep, curled up in her make-shift nest of stuffed animals whose soulless, button eyes were definitely following him around. Probably cursed. Man, he had to get one of those someday.

There was no risk of waking up Star, the kid slept like a dead rock most of the time. The one he didn’t want to wake was Pine Tree, because no doubt the brat would go running to Sixer as soon as he saw Bill doing something “suspicious”. Not that this was the most inconspicuous thing he’d do, but one paranoid wreck he could deal with. Two was pushing the limit

Bill finally shook off the clingy pink thread around his ankles, kneeling next to Mabel’s supplies drawer to shuffle through its contents. Stickers, glitter glue, googly eyes all covered his hands, but no scissors were found. Where were the damn things?

Bill cast a look back at the ball of yarn he’d stepped in, and at the plastic bag next to it it had apparently rolled out of. He knelt and rummaged through the bag, careful with the crinkling plastic. Finally he’d found them, sticking out of another fluffy ball of yarn. It was just like the kid to use a reality-altering gadget as actual scissors. The demon freed them from their tangled prison, turning to leave the room. He cast one last look at Shooting Star, still sound asleep, breath whistling through her teeth. Then he left, not bothering to close the door behind him.

He didn’t notice as Mabel suddenly sat up, staring at the now empty hallway.

…

Liam closes the book he was reading, letting his eye fall shut. “Alright, that’s it. Now you have to go to bed.”

“Whaaat? But that one was short! Tell me another!”

“Billy…”

“I brought you candy! So you have to!” Bill scoots closer to him, staring into his brother’s eye eagerly, until Liam has not choice but to cave in, giving a small laugh.

“Alright, alright. A short one.”

The younger brother beams at him, eye crinkling. “Do the one about the pirates, I love that one.”

“I know, I’ve read it to you like ten times already.”

“Then make it the eleventh.”

Liam puts down the book he was holding, grabbing another one from the shelf before settling down into the pillow. Bill scoots next to him, burying them both under the blankets and leaning on the other’s side. The bigger triangle opens the cover, his palm hesitating on the first page. Why isn’t he reading?

“You can’t keep doing this, Billy.”

Bill freezes, shuddering. It was suddenly cold. No, not cold. It was really hot. There was something very, very wrong…

“What do you-”

“You’ve slept for so long. Maybe it’s time to wake up.”

No. No no- “No. No, don’t- I don’t want-” The boy’s tumbling phrases die in his throat as he looks up at the other, and his eye shrinks into a pinprick at the sight.

Liam’s shape is crumbling, burning away like singed paper, the edges of the triangle darkening and curling inward.

And it was like Liam didn’t even notice. He just stared at him with that sad, regretful eye. Like he didn’t notice he was- “Wake up, Billy.”

“NO!” Bill made a grab for him, for whatever was left of his brother, but it was too late. There was nothing but ashes. “No, no, no, make it stop, please, I-”

Wake up, Billy.

The bedsheets caught on fire, angry red flames dancing on the covers. It burned, it burned more than Bill ever thought it would. “Come back! I didn’t mean to!”

There was nothing but that unbearable heat, eating him inside out, turning his thoughts to dust, just like they did to-

Wake up!

Bill screamed.

…

And promptly fell on the floor.

The demon lay there for awhile, rubbing his now bruised side. He didn’t remember what that nightmare was about, except that it was gonna keep him awake for the rest of the night. Which means he slept a total of- Bill unburied his face from the blanket, casing a bleary look at the cuckoo clock mounted on the wall. Four hours. Not bad, but hardly enough for this stupid body to be satisfied with.

Sleep was one of the most annoying things this body had him dealing with. The absurd amount of time humans spent unconscious (eight to nine hours, seriously? Most other beings could live off of four) used to be extremely handy. After all, what was a dream demon without dreams to infiltrate? Every time someone fell asleep, it was practically an open invitation for him to sneak in and rummage through their brain without consequence.

And he hated being on the receiving end of it. It was like the universe itself was setting up some big joke. Bill Cipher in need of sleep. Ha ha, hilarious.

He loathed every time he got put under. Bill of all knew how vulnerable humans were when asleep. It was what got him the upper hand, but now, it was unnerving. He had no idea of what was going on around him, and that was the least of it. The nights when he didn’t dream of anything were probably the most bearable.

Because when he did, they were always nightmares.

Aaand there was the punchline. Bill Cipher, harebringer of nightmares was suddenly on the receiving end of them. Pure irony at its finest. He’d appreciate the humor more if he didn’t wake up screaming every night.

It’d been so long since he knew what nightmares were like, anyway, long before he’d-

The long forgotten screams echoed in his head, and Bill pushed them away, deep enough that he wouldn’t have to hear them anymore. He got up, his side still aching from the fall, tossing the flimsy blanket aside on the floor. There was no point in going back to sleep. He couldn’t even if he’d tried, and besides, who knew if that nightmare came back again? Bill would take the horrible weight of exhaustion over that any day.

The demon stumbled into the kitchen, shuffling through the shelves in search of enough caffeine to make that unexplainable pressure on the back of his head go away for at least a few hours. He cracked open one of the top cabinets, and froze. Huh. So that’s where Fez keeps all his poison. There sure is a lot of it.

It felt like he’d stood there forever, starting them, the dark glass glinting under the dim lighting. The flickering light of bright blue flame still danced behind his eyes.

Bill reached for the bottle.

…

“Cipher? What the hell are ya- Oh jeez, what a mess. You know I’m charging ya for the booze, right?”

…

The bottles were gone, and he was on the couch again, the blanket he’d kicked away tossed over him.

At least the splitting headache chased away the voices.

…

“I wanna see him.”

The ancient one lifted his tale, revealing a small, grey triangle underneath. Bill Cipher looked more awake than he had all this time, not looking at the Axolotl, but rather somewhere beyond, into the dull void that stretched out for eternity. The boy’s eye was narrowed, hiding whatever emotion he didn’t want the other to see. Of course, the ancient one could still tell.

“You- you said if I wake up, I’ll get to see him.” It was a question, despite not sounding like one, carrying something almost akin to hope. “That I’ll find out where he is.”

“You will. In time.”

The boy finally looked at him, the single wide eye not muddled anymore by sleep. “So if I leave, then-”

“If you leave, you will gain a new form. Absolve your crime, and you shall see your brother again.”

Bill turned away, looking unsure. But he was ready. This was the first time that he ever talked about leaving this bubble without denial or anger, but as a possibility. But that possibility was all that was needed for the bubble to crack, and the illusion to shatter. If Cipher truly wanted to leave, that meant that the dream wasn’t enough anymore to satisfy him. That did not mean that his denial would end, but it was cracking, just like the bubble.

“Ok.” The voice was small, but the weight it carried could not be compared to anything else found in the void. “Deal.”

...

Bill Cipher woke up.

#bill cipher #gravity falls #fanfiction #mabel pines #stanley pines #the axolotl #liam cipher #jheselbraum (mentioned)#stanford pines (mentioned)#a different form a different time #human bill au #doodledrawsthings #pengychan #flat dreams #dipper pines (mentioned)#alcohol abuse

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