#so amusing to see these two in the same dimension that is all

[philiponmycracker]

"Kroger, your Delta Tau Chi name is Pinto." "Why Pinto?" "Why not?!"

Pinto and Bluto, National Lampoon's Animal House (dir. John Landis, 1978)

These two in the same scene is so hilarious to me like they are two extreme opposite ends of the spectrum Idk just looking at Tom Hulce and John Belushi standing next to each other amuses me to no end, it's wild

[ckret2]

At some point, the Axolotl must've witnessed the aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre.

As you can see, Bill is very happy and definitely not at all traumatized and doing great and look at all these followers he's found who are definitely alive.

Here, have a fic about the Axolotl, the birth of the Nightmare Realm, and Bill trying so so hard to convince himself that he's the hero.

####

To the mortals he swam past, with their different calendars and their different ways of perceiving time, the great Axolotl's migration through space and between dimensions was an event of great note: his passing marked eclipses, tsunamis, festivals, omens, meteor showers; his migration was studied by astronomers and his position was marked in astrological birth charts.

To the Axolotl, he was on his daily commute home. He could take an interdimensional portal, but swimming was better for the environment and he could use the exercise.

He passed by the same two dimensional wall every day. It was covered with many little worlds, and so many of them populated with little mortals, and he'd never paid any particular attention to the wall—until yesterday. A bold little triangle had shouted at him as he passed. It had been an amusing conversation—first contact was always fun—but he'd been busy and couldn't talk more than a moment, just long enough for the Axolotl to be charmed that a lower-dimensional creature had yelled at him and for the triangle to be shocked that a higher-dimensional creature had answered. The triangle had told him that, to his two-dimensional people, these shadows on the wall, the Axolotl was an eclipse: they marked the time by the shadow he cast on their flat world during his commute.

He hadn't even learned the triangle's real name. The triangle had refused to tell him, instead introducing himself as the "Magister Mentium." Teacher of minds? Maybe it was a job title.

Between the nightmare of a case the Axolotl was currently handling and the fact that he'd had to stay late working, he'd nearly forgotten about yesterday's fascinating little meeting until he was leaving on his nightly commute. He didn't know how long the tiny shapes' life cycles were; he hoped the little triangle was still alive today. If not, maybe he'd left behind descendants.

But when he came up to the wall, it was gone.

The vacuum reeked of burning hydrogen.

The Axolotl stopped, puzzled. The wall wasn't empty, wasn't damaged, wasn't going through heat death—the entire thing was missing. No rubble. Surely it hadn't been demolished for some new construction? It had been in good condition. It was a fairly new plane of reality, likely under fifty billion years old. And it had admittedly been a few eons since the Axolotl had studied dimension use & zoning law, but last he checked it was unlawful to demolish a populated dimension without transplanting the growths first—which took much longer than a day. So what could possibly have done this? And what he saw behind the wall...

Something was very wrong. He started moving again, faster, looking for someone who could tell him what was happening. He kept the ragged rip in reality left by the missing wall in his peripheral vision. Stars and stardust slowly fell in, sucked through the tear. The wall must have come down by accident.

Nobody would have knowingly left behind such a large hole to Dimension Zero.

Assuming he was looking at Dimension Zero; he wasn't sure he was. Beneath all other dimensions was supposed to be a void, an empty in-between space. The zeroth "dimension" was simply reality's center point, the not-dimension between all dimensions; it wasn't a place. But with the two dimensional wall gone, he didn't see reality bending in toward a point like he should. He saw a roiling, nauseating mass of blinding colors, thrashing around each other like a frightened pile of injured worms.

Far in the distance, a full reality away, he saw a faint line of blue light.

It was several minutes before he began to run into other people. He passed a crew of cosmic firefighters and their ships, spread out over a span of space wider than an asteroid belt. The fact that they didn't appear to currently be fighting any fires was more disconcerting than a full blaze would have been. An eerie tension hung thick over the scene like invisible smoke. As the Axolotl swam by a couple of firefighters, he overheard them saying, "... orders of magnitude higher than anything we've been trained to handle. An entire reality catching fire is one thing, but the concept of realitycatching fire...?"

"And the speed it's moving..."

"Excuse me," the Axolotl said, trying to keep the edge of fear out of his voice. (Why was he so afraid? He was barely acquaintances with one resident on the wall.) "Can you tell me what happened to the wall? It was just here yesterday."

Rather than explain, one of them pointed in the direction he'd been going. "Sorry, we don't know any more than you do. Look for the storm. You can't miss it."

The other asked, "Are you one of the guys with the apoc cops?"

His fear leaped higher. The "apoc cops" were members of the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force. "No. Sorry, I have to go." He swam onward toward the blue line of light.

The stench of burning hydrogen grew stronger. He smelled something else acrid underneath.

####

To his slight relief, the "storm" wasn't the disaster that had brought down this wall. Rather, it was a person: a lightly raining storm cloud with a gray rain-soaked fedora perched on top, hovering in space.

It was talking to a hapless-looking furred serpent twice the Axolotl's length with four mismatched limbs: she clutched a can of spray paint in her claws, and was so nervous he could hear the marble in the can rattling. A disembodied sunbeam pierced the eye of the storm cloud to shine in the serpent's face as she spoke, and a tornado swirled beneath its cloud, carrying all its personal effects—including a tumbling badge from the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force, its logo of a mushroom cloud struck out with the "no" symbol still visible through a thin glaze of sleet. A chill ran through the Axolotl at the sight of that badge.

The cloud wasn't the only one with the apoc cops on the scene. There were several other investigators nearby, taking readings where the wall used to be. The Axolotl didn't like just how many were buzzing around. They seemed far too busy for far too empty a space, and they steered far too clear of the thrashing, multicolored miasma covering the emptiness that should contain Dimension Zero.

There were several stars in the area that the investigators had to work around. Between the crowds and the missing wall, it took the Axolotl a moment to realize where they were: this was the spot he'd met the triangle yesterday. He was sure of it. He recognized the star right next to the missing wall, the one the triangle had told him he eclipsed during his commute. He'd passed it millions of times.

Why had the apoc cops set up here?

The star was slowly falling toward the roiling miasma where Dimension Zero should have been. He nudged it back into place as he passed.

As the Axolotl approached the duo, the serpent was saying, "I told you, I don't know how it caught fire! I was just passing by..." The storm cloud's sunbeam dropped from her face to point skeptically at her spray paint. She hid it behind her back and quickly went on, "I was just passing by, minding my own business and not doing anything illegal, and suddenly the whole wall went up in flames!"

The cloud said, "The whole wall? Simultaneously?"

"The whole thing! I mean... it kind of rolled across the dimension, but—it took less than ten seconds to cover everything I saw!"

"Which direction did the fire travel?"

While the serpent tried to remember, the Axolotl swam up to the storm cloud. "Excuse me, the firefighters said you're in charge of the investigation?"

"Currently," the cloud said, in a tone that suggested it very much wished it wasn't. It looked over the Axolotl, then turned back to the serpent—she flinched when its sunbeam hit her face again—and it asked gruffly, "Is this your lawyer?"

The serpent looked hopeful. "Are you my lawyer?"

"No, I'm not," the Axolotl said, perturbed. Potential defendants aside, nobody ever insinuated he was somebody's lawyer and meant it in a nice way—and he was on the receiving end of such accusations more and more often lately. His reputation was beginning to precede him. "We've never met. I'm trying to find out what happened to this wall. I know a—friend in there. You said something about a fire?"

An active ATTF investigation was in no way the Axolotl's business. But people had a tendency to cooperate with professionals, whether or not their profession had anything to do with the situation at hand. The ATTF agent turned to the Axolotl and said, "You had a friend in there. The wall that used to be here, Dimension 2 Delta, has been completely incinerated."

The Axolotl stared at the cloud, trying to process that. But the whole wall had been there yesterday. Billions of galaxies, each with trillions of stars, each capable of supporting trillions of species—never mind lives. "You can't mean completely. Surely there are some survivors?"

"Not a single one," the cloud said. "Not even gods and ghosts made it out."

"How?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," the storm said. "Right now, the only witness we've found was the person who called in the emergency." A branch of lightning pointed toward the serpent. "And she doesn't know a damn thing." The serpent nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

"But that's... How does an entire dimension disappear with only one witness?"

"Very quickly," the storm said. "The apocalypse Origin & Cause investigation can't make heads or tails of the scene—" a gust of wind swept demonstratively toward the other apoc cops taking readings near the missing wall, "but far as we can tell, the damn thing spontaneously combusted—somewhere near here."

The Axolotl stared helplessly between the serpent and the storm. "Dimensions aren't supposed to spontaneously combust," he said, very reasonably and very unnecessarily.

"Tell 2Δ that," the storm said. "Only time a dimension moves that fast is during a Big Bang explosion or a Big Crunch implosion—and 2Δ wasn't undergoing a Big Crunch. No natural one, anyway. In all my eons with ATTF, I've never seen anything like it."

The Axolotl had been around enough eons himself to know that, after a certain point, novelty became very, very scary—because things working like they should shouldn't do anything you'd never seen before. He worriedly searched the roiling chaos exposed by Dimension 2 Delta's collapse for any sign of what had happened.

The chaos simply thrashed. It moved like it was in pain.

"Did that..." the Axolotl gestured vaguely toward the chaotic foam, "have anything to do with the wall's combustion?"

The serpent shrugged. "I didn't see it until after the fire went by."

The storm grunted uncertainly, a low, thunderous grumble. "Heck if we know. It's connected, no doubt about that—but we haven't even figured out what it is yet. All we know is, it shouldn't have been behind the wall."

The Axolotl stared into the roiling colors, looking for anything visible through the thrashing kaleidoscopic colors.  "If you don't know what it is yet—then, how do you know there aren't survivors in there?" The Axolotl couldn't stop seeing that poor, frightened, awed triangle he'd met yesterday. All the people who'd once been in Dimension 2 Delta mattered—of course they did, those billions of trillions of trillions of billions of lives; he wanted any of them to survive—but that triangle was the one he knew, the one he saw in his mind's eye now. The whole dimension was contained inside that triangle. He had to hope. "I'm going to check."

"What—? You're crazy! Don't you know falling into Dimension Zero will destroy you?!"

"I know falling into Dimension Zero destroys you; I don't know what falling into that thing will do." He squared up with the chaos and steeled his nerves. "Besides, I can regenerate. I'm an axolotl."

"But—!"

"Sorry, there isn't time for more questions." He swam into the maelstrom.

####

Dimension Zero was supposed to be a singularity. Like a black hole, but even smaller—a point so dense it broke physics. If you fell in you'd be crushed into that point by the weight of all realities, a point so small it had no volume.

But whatever was behind where the wall had been, it was certainly no point.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, he was barraged with a psychic hurricane. Reality frothed and foamed like a flood spilling from a burst dam. Distant baby stars were born and popped like bubbles, and old stars fell in and were gloriously reignited. His every sense was bombarded with infinite sensations—every color and image in this dimension all at once; every song that had ever been played playing in the same instant and the instant extended indefinitely; strobe lights that were both flashing on and flashing off at the exact same moment. Beneath the music was a constant hiss like the background radiation of reality, the static echo of a universe's birth, but much too loud; he could swear it sounded like gibbering, babbling voices, their desperate messages unintelligible. He smelled every scent, including the lingering smell of burning hydrogen that he'd noticed outside; but above and beyond all that, he smelled the stench of burning life.

He knew now, this was Dimension Zero: it was as if all of spacetime had been crushed into a singularity, but then the singularity was bloated up to the size of an entire universe. Dimension Zero was never supposed to be this bloated.

And the most terrifying part: there were people in this bizarre ruin of a dimension. Millions of them. (Just as horrifying: there were only millions of them.) He was sure he must have been hallucinating—here, dreams and reality swirled around each other like a bottle of water and oil shaken until they were forced to mix—but the longer he looked, the more sure he was that the people were a part of reality. They were, perhaps, the most real thing in the entire dimension.

They were all dancing.

They were all dead.

"Heeey, look who's here!" Suddenly, in front of the Axolotl, there he was—as if he'd always been in front of the Axolotl, as if he were always everywhere at once. The ghost of the little triangle he'd seen yesterday, neon incorporeal. "Happy New Year, everybody!" He laughed. "Get it? That—that's a joke, time doesn't pass in the dream realm, so..." The triangle waved off the Axolotl. "Oh, you wouldn't get it. Screw you. Anyway, introductions! I should do that." 

The triangle was extremely inebriated. He was blinking blearily, floating crookedly, moving in odd uncoordinated jerks, his pupil expanding and contracting with no correlation to the light it was taking in. He seemed to flicker across multiple timelines that had been collapsed into one, like a drunk that couldn't walk a straight line: appearing here then there, then multiple places at once, then everywhere; and then became everywhere, and then collapsed again to a single triangular point. The Axolotl had the worrying impression that the triangle hadn't been sober for a long time.

"So! These are my people!" He gestured with a flourish to the dancing corpse puppets. The strobe lights—which, the Axolotl only now realized, didn't actually have a source, but were rather disembodied rays of light emanating from nothing—turned to highlight them from every angle. It was like a cloud of glitter, all these tiny, flat, jewel-tone flecks, emerald and citrine and ruby and sapphire, triangles and squares and pentagons and hexagons. Each with two spindly arms; some with legs and some without; a single dull eye or a slack mouth; some of them cracked and chipped like broken glass, some of them crushed and melted together into multi-corpsed horrors, some of them fraying and peeling apart around the edges like fabric; so much silvery blood dripping and floating around them. Such beautiful, colorful dancing gore. "All my followers and friends! They love me! They couldn't see you last time you flew by, but thanks to me, they sure can now! Say hellooo!"

It took the Axolotl a moment to realize that the triangle's eye was boring into him and the instruction was for him. "Hello," he said weakly. 

"Very nice." The triangle turned without turning to the millions lost inside Dimension Zero, reality shifting around him to put all of the dimension's prisoners in front of his eye. The Axolotl reeled from existential vertigo. "Now check this out!" The triangle gestured at the Axolotl for his people's benefit. "Behold! Your Magister Mentium presents to you: the eclipse! In the horrifying pink flesh! Quite a sight, huh?"

Many of the dancers turned toward him. Some aimed their dull, dead eyes in his direction. He shivered under their chill stares.

Heedless of the Axolotl's horror, the triangle elbowed him. "I didn't peg you for a party crasher, pinky!" (The triangle's touch was so cold.) "But hey, the more the merrier. Welcome to the dream realm, have a drink!"

A 2D cup manifested in front of the Axolotl that, based on its smooth, featureless yellow surface and its glow, appeared to be made from the triangle's own ghostly flesh. It seemed to be filled with watered-down raw existence. He didn't touch the cup. "What's the dream realm?" He couldn't stop staring at the dancers macabre.

"This is!" The triangle stretched out his arms—and stretched them, and stretched them, seeming to embrace all of reality at once. The Axolotl got the terrifying impression he was within the embrace too. "The realm of dreams! My realm! Paradise of color and light! Realm of spirits and muses!"

"It looks more like a nightmare."

"Do I come to your house and insult your wallpaper? Buzz off."

When the triangle dismissively floated away from him, the Axolotl again got the dizzying sensation that he was the one moving. The truth finally dawned on him:

The triangle, somehow, was literally the center of this universe. Point 0,0,0 on the cartesian plane of reality. Whenever he moved, Dimension Zero moved with him. When he backed away from the Axolotl, Dimension Zero backed with him, rushing past while the Axolotl held still.

And not once during their conversation did any of the millions of dead shapes stop dancing. 

"What are you doing?" the Axolotl asked, voice hushed.

"Partying," the triangle said. "We're having a party."

The Axolotl couldn't tear his eyes from the choreomaniacs' forced revelry. "How long have you been partying?"

"Uhh... pfff... I dunno, hard to keep track. A few months?" The triangle turned toward his tortured people. "Hey! How long have we been partying?"

One of the bodies mixed in amongst the dead, boogying deliriously, faintly cried back, "Time has no meaning and eternity has collapsed into a single unending moment of bliss!" (The Axolotl shuddered at the grotesque ventriloquism act.)

"Oh, yeah, right, forgot I decreed that. Thanks, pal!"

"You're welcome, oh wise and glorious Magister Mentium!"

The triangle turned back to the Axolotl. "An eternity."

The Axolotl tore his horrified eyes away from the dancers. "What about all the others?"

The triangle paused. "I don't know who you're talking about." The background radiation hissed in agitation.

The Axolotl very much suspected he did. "Your other people."

"There aren't any others," the triangle said defensively.

"There were! All of the other shapes around your world! All of the lives on other worlds! Where are all those people?!" He hoped that they might have gotten evacuated to a neighboring wall, or that they'd been concealed somehow, or even that they'd been collapsed together into the shapes he saw before him and could still be separated—

"It's fine," the triangle said stiffly. "Nothing important was lost."

"Nothing important?" the Axolotl repeated, shocked. "This was an entire dimension—!"

"A wall," the triangle said.

"A wall with lives on it—"

"Shadows."

"And do shadows not deserve to live?!"

The triangle flinched at the question as his good cheer crumbled. He didn't answer, but he gave the Axolotl a heavy, hard, emotionless look—a wretched, empty look—and the Axolotl knew he knew they did deserve to live.

"They don't matter," the triangle lied. "Nothing important was lost. Only the true believers and the worthy remain."

"Your dimension had billions of trillions of stars alone. All the people surrounding them—"

"I didn't see any stars!" He said it so vehemently—as though, if he didn't see them, they must not have existed. As though he refused to acknowledge their existence. "I told everyone about the third dimension, I told them we were going, they had their chance to join me!" His voice was shaking. As he spoke he grew larger, until he was as large as the Axolotl—or perhaps the universe had contracted around him. "And if they refused to join the liberation, then they are what we liberated ourselves from!" Distant bolts of lights flashed through Dimension Zero, responding to the triangle's outrage; the nearest stars blazed brighter for him. His dead people screamed in terror. They didn't stop dancing.

"You... tried to leave your dimension before the fire reached them?" Had he tried too late?

The triangle flinched again; his appearance flickered, like a TV that for a moment had picked up a pirate station broadcasting on the same frequency. The whispers hissing beneath the music grew more excited again, but the Axolotl still couldn't make out what they said beneath the party music.

The triangle said, "The... the fire came second."

"What came first?"

But he didn't answer. "Yeah, I brought them here." He spread his arms again, gesturing at the other shapes. "They followed me, and I freed them from our flat, restrictive dimension. They're all fine. And they all love me for saving them."

"Saving them?" he echoed. He wanted to laugh in disbelief, but it felt too much like laughing at a stranger's funeral. Laughing at an open mass grave. "But—everyone here is already dead. Even you." The triangle should be in an afterlife. Whatever afterlives his dimension once had, they were gone now. The Axolotl would have to help the triangle find one in another dimension—the paperwork alone would take time he didn't have to spare; he'd probably have to split off a timeline or two to squeeze it in...

The triangle snapped, "Whoa, hey, hey! Watch who you call dead, buddy! Look at me!" He stretched out his limbs, glowing dazzlingly bright. Brighter than a star. Even the Axolotl had to turn away from the blinding light. "I transcended my body! I'm made of pure energy! This is the most alive I've ever been!" A being of pure energy that had lost its physical form was the very definition of a ghost; but the Axolotl didn't have a chance to argue before the triangle went on, "And does anyone here look dead? Everyone's dancing! We're all having a great time, aren't we?" A few corpses groaned and gurgled in response.

If the triangle wanted to be a wandering ghost, fine. That was his prerogative. But he had no right to force the remains of his followers to deny their death with him. "Look—look at your people," the Axolotl commanded. "You're making them dance! You must know what state they're in!"

Without actually moving, the triangle had somehow become the space in between the Axolotl and his choreomaniacs, forming a sharp shield in between them. "You don't know what you're talking about. They're fine. They're immortal!"

The Axolotl gestured furiously past the triangle. "LOOK AT THEM!"

The triangle's gaze flickered toward them for a split second. The Axolotl saw guilt flashing in his eye; but then he squeezed his eye shut. "No, you look at them. Maybe it took me a little bit to get it right, but they're all great now."

To get it right? The Axolotl peered around the triangle at the shapes again, and only now saw that he was right.

Not all of them were dead.

Some were trapped in ecstatic trances; some were numb with terror; some were already long dead, and yet the corpses weren't being puppeted like he'd assumed—they danced under their own power. There were amalgams of a dozen, a hundred bodies fused together into shambling, gyrating horrors—but there was still life in their horrified eyes and their limbs twitched independently. The ones that were bleeding just kept bleeding and bleeding and bleeding, unending, blood never clotting nor running dry. The corpses and the comatose and the ailing and the bleeding dancing with the living that craved death.

The triangle was responsible for their condition?

He glided between the corpses, sliding his arms around a few of them. They kept dancing.  "I didn't quite get to a few of them in time, so I took the empty space where their souls used to be and filled them with an insatiable hunger to party," he said. "And look, they're good as new! Probably better than they were before, even!"

"These bodies should be laid to rest," the Axolotl said heatedly, "and the rest of you should be dead."

The triangle went still.

The Axolotl remembered, a second too late, that that was a perfectly normal thing to say to deceased clients and other gods in his line of work, but the kind of thing that scared the living daylights out of mortals.

"So that's a threat." His arms slid off the shapes; his fingers were stained with silvery blood that shimmered like static noise.

"No! No. But the condition that you're all in..."

"You'd better check yourself, frills," the triangle snapped. "You crash our party, in our eternal paradise, and start threatening us! Who the hell do you think you are, telling us we should be dead?!"

The Axolotl paused uneasily. "A fully licensed psychopomp...?"

"Well you'd better keep your psycho, pompous paws off my people!" The triangle blazed bright red, literally incandescent with rage. Some of his "people" slowly stopped dancing and turned their hollow eyes toward the Axolotl.

And the Axolotl couldn't say why, but he was suddenly sure he was in very grave danger.

He backed up from the triangle, moving in the direction that the edge of Dimension Zero should have been, although he was no longer sure whether it was still behind him. "I... think I should leave."

"I think you'd better."

He turned and fled. He couldn't explain his panic, but he felt in his bones like something was chasing him. He had to spend longer than he wanted searching for the edge of this bizarre reality—the triangle had turned and twisted and moved the borders so many times that he'd completely lost his bearings—spied the nearest exit, and darted for it between two unfinished planes of reality.

He thought he felt flames at his back.

The triangle's voice followed him out: "Next time, poop on somebody else's party!"

He tumbled through the membrane between the overbloated Dimension Zero and the higher dimensions with the relief of a suffocating fish escaping its net to plummet back into the water. He had to take a moment to reorient himself to his surroundings—time passing so that each moment took its turn and ended when it was over, space that felt like space rather than all distances collapsed in on themselves—and looked back at Dimension Zero.

The longer he stared into the kaleidoscopic miasma, the more sure he was that, no matter where he looked, right at the center of his field of view, he could always see a shining yellow fleck of triangular glitter.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I spoke out of emotion. I am glad that you—" well, "survived" wasn't the right word, "—still exist. And it was heroic of you to save as many people as you did. I shouldn't have said they shouldn't be alive; just..."

He felt like he could still see the shapes dancing in the corners of his eyes.

"... Just not alive like that."

####

Who was the triangle?

At their first meeting yesterday, it had been clear to the Axolotl that the triangle could see and perceive things off his wall while the rest of his people could not; he'd identified himself as "Magister Mentium" rather than by name; and he'd been surrounded by shapes, all turned toward him, listening: so perhaps he was a leader of some kind? He must have seen whatever destroyed their dimension coming and been able to use his position to evacuate a few people. The true believers and the worthy, he'd said—maybe his... congregation? Maybe he was a religious leader? At any rate, it was a miracle he'd saved as many people as he had with what must have been very short notice.

But... their forced dance... the bodies fused together... the living-who-should-be-dead bleeding and bleeding and bleeding without end...

The Axolotl didn't want to believe the triangle had any ill will. He reminded himself that he didn't know anything about his people or their culture. These shapes had been through something unimaginably traumatic. They'd watched an entire reality die; many of them were stuck in the process of dying in a place where they couldn't complete it. Any mortal would be insane with grief. Perhaps their magister was just leading them in some sort of cathartic dancing mania; perhaps this was how the shapes processed their grief. He hoped that was what it was. He hadn't gotten a chance to speak to the others—he didn't know how many could speak—but he had seen, for just a moment, how survivor's guilt ate at the triangle.

The storm cloud with the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force had said that every single living being from Dimension 2 Delta had been killed. Even the gods and the ghosts. So how had the triangle and his people survived?

And what were they doing here, in the singular heart of all reality?

And what had happened to their world?

####

(Hello, thanks for reading!! If you were lured in by the colorful art I laid out as bait and this is your first time here, welcome!! This is part 1 of a 5-or-6 part fic about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. I'll be posting one chapter a week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna read more and learn the exciting answers to exciting questions like "Bill where in the good goddamn did you find a bunch of half-dead shapes??"

It's ALSO chapter 61 of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. So if you wanna read more of me writing Bill, check it out here. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a one-shot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: hey y'all remember when we had to skip over chapter 61 because it would've been posted like four days after TBOB came out and it needed MAJOR revisions? Well, here it is!! And also it's currently like six times longer than it was originally. We're gonna be hanging out with the Ax for like a month and a half, buckle up. 

Let me know what y'all think so far!!)

[slutoru1207]

Invincible!Mark x Variants!reader imagine

As requested <33333

It had been a few months since the Invincible War, and Mark was finally starting to feel like things were settling down. The nightmares had lessened, the world was slowly recovering, and for once, he felt like he could breathe. That peace, however, was short-lived.

Because now, he had a whole new problem. You. Well, multiple yous.

The first one had shown up out of nowhere, confused and disoriented but seemingly harmless. The second had arrived only a few hours later. Then the third. By the time the GDA realized what was happening, there were six variants of you, all from different dimensions, all equally shocked to be here. And, worst of all? They only wanted to stay with Mark.

It wasn’t even up for discussion. The GDA had tried separating them, offering different accommodations, but every single one had the same response:

“No thanks, I’ll stay with Mark.”

Mark was losing his mind.

“Are you serious?” he groaned, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the multiple versions of his girlfriend sitting comfortably in the GDA containment facility.

One of them grinned. “Aw, babe, don’t sound so upset.”

“I—I’m not your babe!” Mark spluttered, pointing an accusing finger at her. He turned to you, his actual girlfriend, who was leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, watching this unfold with barely contained amusement. “Can you say something here?”

You shrugged, smiling. “They’re me, Mark. I think it’s sweet that they like you so much.”

One of the variants—the one wearing a slightly different outfit than yours—sighed dramatically. “Like? Like is an understatement, sweetheart.” She turned to Mark, propping her chin in her hands. “Have you seen yourself? If I was thrown into a different universe and you were here, I’d stick to you like glue too.”

Another variant nodded. “Same. No way I’m letting this prime piece of Viltrumite ass out of my sight.”

Mark choked.

You bit your lip, hard, trying to suppress a laugh.

“You—you can’t just say things like that!” Mark spluttered, his face turning a deep shade of red.

One of the variants smirked. “Why not? I mean, it’s true. Have you looked in a mirror?”

“I—That’s not the point!”

From that moment on, Mark knew he was doomed.

The GDA eventually gave up on trying to separate them. Until they found a way to send them back to their respective dimensions, they were on lockdown, and Mark—along with you—had been assigned to keep an eye on them.

Which was easier said than done.

Because Mark couldn’t catch a break.

Everywhere he went, they followed. And worse? They flirted relentlessly.

“Mark, honey, you look so tense.” One of them leaned against his shoulder, tracing a finger down his arm. “I could give you a massage if you want~.”

He jumped away like he’d been burned. “NO.”

Another giggled. “You don’t have to be so shy. We’re all technically the same person—so really, it’s not that weird.”

“It is absolutely that weird!”

You? Oh, you were having the time of your life watching him suffer.

Sitting on the couch, you rested your chin in your palm, eyes twinkling as Mark shot you a helpless look.

“You could help me, you know,” he grumbled, arms crossed as he tried to keep some distance between him and his rapidly growing harem of you.

You shrugged, barely holding in your laughter. “And miss this? No way.”

The variants giggled, and Mark swore he could feel his soul leaving his body.

Things only got worse as the days passed.

The variants knew he was flustered by their attention, and they leaned into it hard.

One whispered in his ear, voice dripping with mischief, “You know, if you ever wanted to see what it’s like to have two of me at once—”

Mark walked out of the room immediately.

You cried laughing.

Every day was like this. Every day, Mark suffered through compliments, teasing, and not-so-subtle attempts at seduction, all while you sat back and watched the chaos unfold.

And as much as he hated to admit it, he was kind of getting used to it.

The variants, despite their relentless flirting, were still you. They were kind, funny, and weirdly protective over him—if anyone so much as looked at Mark wrong, they’d be ready to throw hands, much to his horror.

But they never stopped teasing him.

And honestly? You weren’t sure if Mark would survive until the GDA found a way to send them home.

[itsquakey]

Forgotten Land DLC thoughts, theories, and hopes

While Kirby Air Riders is an addition I am happy to see pop up in the future, someone who loves story and a certain someone I am actually more excited for the DLC over the air ride sequel believe it or not. And man, do I have a LOT of things to point out and "theorize" what this DLC might be.

⬇️ Rambling below! ⬇️

First of all, the suspiciously jamba-heart-shaped comet which is covered in blue crystals and is pink/purple in the core.

I can maybe see either a purple crystal that has carvings or damage of some sort and light is reflecting off these impurities OR it's something and that weird round bumpiness are wings of some kind? Which is why there's lighting and depth on the "figure". Though it's hard to see and it's a very uneducated guess.

Another detail! The bits of crystal that break apart from the comet and go everywhere has been seen in a few games!

I believe the bits and pieces of comet that break off are the same as the weird crystal fellas we see in Kirby clash and Return to Dreamland in "another dimension". I wonder if somehow that comet had been floating around in the other dimension for so long those weird crystals grew over it and created an extra coating of some kind.

Moving on, it's interesting that these "potential another dimension" crystals are infecting the world around it, though something I find interesting is how the coins change in shape to a different stereotypical star shape. Keep that in the back of your noggin for now.

Moving on again through the video...we see...something?

The area is called Fallen-star volcano, and looks like is contains a pink/purple core surrounded by a orb on red an them dead, fingerlike shapes wrap around it. Not entirely sure what to think of this, though the core is a hot topic of interest to me in my brain.

Next! Now this is where my eyebrows started to shoot up a bit. A new little guy, who seems to be encased in some crystal. He looks vaguely kirby enemy-like, typical design, though the colors, little wings, and shape on their face interests me for reasons I'll go into later.

Also, a potential new waddle dee??? He seems to be an astronomer or hell, maybe they research the other dimensions or the ancients. It would be amusing if this is bandee in new gear, though.

Next up, HMMMMMM THIS LOOKS FAMILIAR

This fella is covered in crystal, likely protected with horns and a mask(?) shape that really made me go "oh shit?" Something else to point out, when kirby defeats this fella, you can see their body and eye more clearly. The egg shaped body is also interesting to me but that could be a reach.

Nothing else seemed to catch my eye in the video we got after this, but I definitely have a handful of theories and hopes, so let's move onto that!

THEORY ONE: COMING BACK TO THE FORGOTTEN LAND

One idea I have is that maybe somehow those who left the forgotten land have been elevated to "another dimension" and one of these beings has crash landed back to the land they once left, now infecting the land around it. There's no proof for this one, but I kinda just had the idea in my brain when typing this out.

THEORY TWO: SOMEHOW, VOID TERMINA RETURNED

This theory has more grounds to be true, with the idea that Void Termina has suddenly become reincarnated and is flung back to land in a jamba heart-like crystal. The "another dimension" crystals are spreading and creating new living things as Void termina's new form awaits someone to wake it from its slumber.

THEORY THREE: PLEASE BE GALA PLEASE BE GALA

I REALLY want this to be true, I do. And I actually have a entire story decked out here for y'all. What if...Galacta's death in Star Allies was a red herring this whole time. What if every time we've seen him it's only the version of him in that dimension/universe? And in every universe, every dimension, Galacta knight is doomed to that crystal imprisonment. However, in our mainline timeline, our version of Galacta knight has been hanging around another dimension's very bottom, collecting crystals and becoming a huge comet that looks exactly like the thing Galacta knight helped seal away all those years ago. Now, he was the one who had been sealed and could never be free from it again.

This comet, one day becomes big and powerful enough to move out of the other dimension, and fall right into the Forgotten Land. This giant comet, holding the greatest warrior, falls into the sea and creates its own island where his body is kept. The crystals spread and infect everything, even giving creatures an appearance similar to him. Hell, maybe the little blue guy we see (which has bee confirmed to work like waddle dees) either helps up undo the crystals, maybe freeing Gala and undoing the crystal takeover of the land. Or maybe it's like a Leon's soul thing? Maybe these guys are parts of Galacta's soul or sanity you need to collect and return to him???

Something about them is interesting though, they have the same star shape as Galacta's mask does and what we see other enemies have as well as the coins we see in the game. They also have wings that look like they're meant to resemble bird wings. These could have a connection to Elfilin as well. But back on course to Gala. What if the pink/purple we see in the grainy image is either him or his crystal prison? And once he is freed it is revealed that his hatred, fear, and contempt have become a living thing possessing him and practically being responsible for the chaos that was happening. Maybe, this main line universe of Galacta is the one who gets the happy ending, and gets to be apart of Kirby's group or just gets to live happily in the forgotten land. Also something something tons of lore dumps as we go. But I'm desperate for Gala content he's my second fav kirby character and I NEED more of him and this trailer really tipped me off to "Galacta like patterns". If any new videos or info drops I'll be on it but this is my hopeful ramblings for now. Art coming soon! I really wanna draw these little guys.

Add onto whatever ideas or story you wanna see in this DLC.

[akookminsupporter]

JIKOOK KARMA STRIKES AGAIN… AND SO DOES THE CHAOS

Jimin and Jungkook talking—or better yet, teasing us—really took me back to that last Wlive they did with Joon and Tae, when they were teasing us about AYS. It’s that same chaotic energy, where they drop just enough hints to get us all curious but refuse to spill the details. And now, once again, I’m sure the average Jikooker is sitting somewhere, wondering what kind of stories they were referring to and why they’re suddenly ‘worried’ that we might go somewhere.

Like… go where exactly? What is it that we’re supposed to be running away from? Or towards? Are they concerned we’ll collectively lose our minds and ascend to another dimension? Do they think we’ll all log off en masse? (Unlikely. Jikookers have survived worse. We don’t log off.) Or are they, for some reason, imagining us physically running somewhere? The way they worded it was so dramatic, and considering how… well, dramatic they can be, I wouldn’t put it past them to exaggerate on purpose just to wind us up.

Now, I don’t know about you guys, but the first time I read that whole conversation it sent me in a completely different direction. Hobi said that he’d heard some of these stories before and they made him laugh so hard his stomach hurt and I swear, my first thought was that they were talking about something so funny that we’d all end up running to the bathroom because we’d be laughing so hard, we’d pee ourselves. That was genuinely my first assumption ajajajajajjaaj. I don’t know if that’s me oversharing, but I promise you, that was my immediate thought process when I saw their conversation. Like, they weren’t just hinting at something mildly amusing—they were acting like these stories were comedic gold.

And honestly? Knowing Jimin and Jungkook, I can totally see it. These two have always had a way of getting themselves into ridiculous situations, whether it’s by accident or on purpose. They’re the type of people who will be completely serious one second and then somehow descend into absolute chaos the next. The number of times they’ve been caught making each other laugh uncontrollably, to the point where they’re falling over, hitting each other is endless. So, I can only imagine what kind of things they’ve been through that they personally find hilarious.

But what really gets me is the way they spoke about it. Like, the absolute drama of it all. The way they said it was so unnecessarily intense. It’s such a Jimin and Jungkook thing to do—acting as if they’ve lived through some wild, untold saga when in reality, it’s probably just them being absolute menaces and laughing at the dumbest things. And yet, here we are, hanging onto their every word, waiting to hear what exactly happened. I just know that whatever these stories are, they’re going to be peak Jikook behaviour. I. CANT. WAIT.

Now, Switching topics for a moment—because I need to talk about this—if there’s one thing that has been proven time and time again, it’s that ‘Jikook karma’ is very real. I mean, we’ve seen it play out so many times over the years, and it just keeps happening.

Like, take what happened recently. A few days ago, I saw some Jikookers talking about how the vecinas were up to their usual nonsense, this time about a restaurant. Apparently, the restaurant itself had to step in and clarify some things, which, of course, immediately made the vecinas furious. And what did they do in response? They started sending hate to the restaurant owner and blaming BHM for everything under the sun—again. Like clockwork.

But that wasn’t even the only thing going on. For some reason, the vecinas and Solos also decided to revive their weird obsession with trying to prove that Jimin and Jungkook don’t spend time together. They went back to claiming that the two of them don’t share a dorm—or whatever it’s called in the military—and that they don’t even see each other, which is just… fascinating, considering the fact that Jungkook himself already said otherwise. So, in other words, they were basically calling Jungkook a liar.

And what happened next? Classic Jikook karma. Because not only did Jimin confirm that he and Jungkook do share a dorm (or sleep in the same place, however, you want to phrase it), but both of them also casually mentioned that they’ve been through so much together—so many incredible and probably hilarious moments—that they can’t wait to tell us about them… even though they’re not sure if they can tell us. Like, they want to share, but maybe they shouldn’t. I mean, if that’s not the ultimate ‘Jikook karma’ moment, I don’t know what is.

Now, back to the fun part of all this—because I need to focus on that instead of the nonsense—Jungkook absolutely killed me when he said, "June 11th!" basically implying that the day they’re discharged from the military, they’ll spill everything. The way he just threw that date out there so confidently was hilarious, like, that’s when you’ll know everything! I love him, but yeah… I don’t see that happening.

I don’t know if being a Jikooker has made me pessimistic because deep down, I feel like we’re not actually going to hear these stories they were bragging about today. Like, I want to believe it. I want to trust that they’ll actually spill, but something tells me they won’t. They’ll either decide last minute that it’s too embarrassing, or they’ll just keep hyping it up without ever giving us the details. And honestly? That’s fine. We should be used to it by now. If anything, it’ll just be another inside joke for the fandom. After all, it took almost four years for us to finally hear about the ‘rainy day fight’. Four years. So if we have to wait another few years to hear these new stories, well… I guess we just have to be patient. Again.

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 5

Part 4

After collecting their bags from the library lockers Jazz led him down the hallway until she found a small, unlocked, empty classroom. The room was barren except for desks and a whiteboard. I guess they don’t bother locking it if there’s nothing worth stealing.

Jazz sat her messenger bag down on the teacher’s desk and pulled a whiteboard marker out of a side pocket.

“Right,” Jazz began, “I don’t know how much you know about ecto-entities and since, as you said, the reports on them tend to be pretty biased, I’m just going to start from scratch. Sounds good?” she rambled.

Tim hopped up onto the front row desk and tried his best to look like an attentive teacher’s pet.

“Yes, Ms Fenton,” he said cheekily.

Jazz gave him an amused look.

“Careful Mr Taylor, or you’ll end up in detention,” she said lightly. She turned to the whiteboard and gathered her thoughts for a moment, then wrote ECTO-ENTITIES in large block letters, “Many people refer to all ecto-entities as ghosts, but this is actually a misnomer. Ghosts as most people think of them, i.e. the restless spirits of the dead, are only a small subset of the ectoplasmic population. There’s plenty of them that were never human to begin with,” higher up on the board, she wrote INFINITE REALMS, “Ecto-entities originate from a parallel dimension to ours, which is called the Infinite Realms by its inhabitants. Though my parents refer to it as the Ghost Zone, that name is woefully inadequate.” Jazz paused and glanced at him.

“Kinda like foreigners renaming places instead of using the one in the native language, gotcha,” Tim nodded. They had dealt with alternate realities before, so this wasn’t completely out of left field. He would go along with it for now. Jazz gave him a small smile.

“That’s right!” she said and tapped the whiteboard, “Now, the Infinite Realms and our dimension are closely interconnected, like two sides of the same coin. Large scale damage to one would cause similar devastation on the opposite side and vice versa,” she gave him a serious look.

“Which makes the hostile attitude of the paranormal research community rather worrying,” Tim mused, “If someone did something stupid the blowback would hit us too,” If he wasn’t trained to read people he would have missed the slight tightening around Jazz’s eyes.

“That’s the theory anyway. And it’s not like the US government ever dropped bombs on people just to see what would happen,” she chirped with false cheeriness.

There’s a story there, Tim thought, and not the kind you would find in a history book. What the hell has been going on?

“I’m guessing getting access to the Infinite Realms isn’t as easy as calling an Uber though,” he joked.

“You’d be surprised,” Jazz said wryly, receiving a raised eyebrow in response, “there are places where the barrier between worlds is naturally thin, allowing temporary rifts to form more easily, but they can pop up pretty much anywhere in the world. It’s what allows ecto-entities to enter our dimension. It’s also not unheard of for humans to stumble into the Realms either, though they’re lucky to return at all,” she twirled the marker between her fingers, “Time doesn’t seem to work the same way in the Realms as it does here. Just in case you ever come across one, make sure to leave through the same portal you entered. Otherwise you might find yourself stranded in the Middle Ages, or far in the future with everyone you know and love long dead.”

Tim had to fight to keep down a wince. The whole Bruce Lost In Time Debacle was still an emotional scar for the family, they really didn’t need a repeat performance.

“Duly noted.”

“Some entities are able to open and close rifts at will,” Jazz continued, unfazed by Tim’s dry tone, ”though that ability seems to be pretty rare. It probably requires an unusual level of power or incursions would be much more common.”

“That would explain the little disappearing trick Damian’s delivery guy pulled,” Jason murmured through Tim’s earpiece, “But does that mean we’re dealing with a fucking super ghost?”

Tim gave a thoughtful hum and drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk.

“Do you think humans could open a portal to the Realms?”

Jazz gave him a wry smile.

“You just summed up the bulk of my parents’ research over the last two decades. They managed to build a functioning portal about two years ago.”

Tim choked. Jason swore.

“What?! But that’s-! How is that not all over the news?!” Tim sputtered. Jazz just sighed.

“My parents have been ranting about ghosts since they were in college,” she said wearily, ”Most of the scientific community had written them off as crackpots years ago. It doesn’t help that large concentrations of ectoplasm generate some kind of interference that messes with recording equipment. Short of kidnapping the naysayers and shoving them bodily through the Fenton Ghost Portal it’s hard to prove anything. And thankfully even my parents aren’t that crazy,” she finished with an eye roll.

Tim buried his face in his hands. An interdimensional portal. What the fuck. He thought back on everything Jazz had told him so far.

“What’s ectoplasm?”

“You’ve been paying attention!” she smiled and added some notes to the whiteboard, “Ectoplasm is the basic building block of everything in the Infinite Realms, and by extension ecto-entities. Hence the name. It’s the equivalent of matter in our dimension; atoms, protons, quarks, etcetera. I’m not a physicist, so I can’t tell you exactly how it works, but that’s why ecto-entities are able to interact with our physical world in such fascinating ways. Flight, intangibility and invisibility are all common abilities for them.”

“Wow, what a fucking security nightmare. B is gonna freak,” Jason groused. Tim tuned him out to focus on Jazz’s continued explanation.

“My parents have been experimenting with using ectoplasm for power generation, but it’s proven extremely volatile. It seems like it’s affected by things like belief and emotion which is absolutely fascinating,” she said with a gleam in her eye, “not to mention its effects on organic tissue. Have you ever had your dinner come to life and try to eat you?”

Tim had a sudden, horrible suspicion.

“Can’t say that I have,” he managed to squeeze out past the lump in his throat, “Um… Jazz, what does ectoplasm look like?”

“Well that depends on what it’s been affected and shaped by but in its raw form it looks like a bright green, glowing liquid,” she tilted her head, “Why do you ask?”

Over the comms, Jason made a sound like someone had kicked him in the crotch.

“Lazarus water?! Is she talking about the fucking pits?!” he choked out.

Tim made a valiant effort to keep his own reaction in check.

“Oh, just wondering how I’ll recognize a ghost- er, ecto-entity when I see one,” he lied with fake casualness, “You mentioned something about powers?”

“Yes! All the entities we’ve encountered so far have exhibited powers which are common to their species, as well as additional powers that seem to depend on the individual core. I’ve theorized that powers develop as a response to stress related to either their Obsession or death trauma…” Jazz trailed off, “aaaaaand I’ve lost you.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I know I have a tendency to ramble,” she said sheepishly and considered the bullet points she had written so far, “Let me backtrack a bit. Not all ecto-entities are ghosts. There’s personifications of concepts, which I theorize are formed through the collective consciousness of living beings. They are entities which represent Hope or Justice or-”

“Time?” Tim interjected. Jazz gave him a calculating look.

“...sure. They are among the most powerful entities and have powers related to what they represent. I suspect they may have even been worshipped as gods at some point. You definitely wouldn’t want to mess with them,” at Tim’s nod, she continued, “There’s also the Neverborn, which are formed when ecto-entities choose to reproduce. They are entirely of the Infinite Realms, and thus were never ‘born’ into our world.”

“Ghosts can have children?” he said, surprised.

“Yes, although I’ve never been able to get the details on how it works. They don’t like to discuss it with outsiders. And considering they can look like dragons or disembodied floating eyeballs I’m not sure I’d want to know the exact mechanics,” she joked.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who’d disagree with you on that,” Tim muttered, then paused. “Wait, dragons?”

Jazz waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. The point is that there’s way more to the other side than most people realize. There’s probably lots of things I’ve never even heard of. It’s quite exciting, really!”

Tim worried about it. A lot. Jason had also gone suspiciously quiet.

“So, ghosts are just the tip of the iceberg?” Tim hedged.

“Exactly. What sets them apart from other ecto-entities is that they are usually created upon the death of someone or something from our dimension, which gives them motivation to come back here,” Jazz added more notes and arrows to the whiteboard. “All entities have something they call a core; think of it as their central organ or brain. It houses their consciousness, and its nature affects what powers they get. There’s all kinds of elemental cores like fire and water, but also more esoteric ones like shadow or technology. An ecto-entity’s body is composed of ectoplasm and moulded by their core. Their physical form is malleable and heavily based on their self-perception. With experience they can change shape to suit their needs.”

Tim mentally added shapeshifting to the growing list of powers to worry about. So far it sounded a lot like a Martian’s.

“So can ecto-entities grow and age?”

“It depends. The Neverborn usually do, but a lot of ghosts have a bit of a Peter Pan thing going on where they don’t want to. They are often ‘stuck’ at the age they were when they died, physically and mentally. Though there’s always exceptions.”

Tim hummed thoughtfully. Something had been bothering him since ghosts had first entered the equation.

“Jazz, if ghosts don’t age or die, why aren’t they all over the place? Even if rifts are rare, shouldn’t there be hundreds of thousands of years worth of dead folks wandering the Earth?”

She gave him a sad smile.

“I never said ghosts couldn’t die, Adam,” she said carefully, ”And not everyone who dies comes back as a ghost. The ones who do typically have some unfinished business holding them back. Like an obsession they never got to fulfill, or a loved one they are watching over. Once they are done, they are free to move on to whatever Afterlife awaits them,” she sighed and crossed her arms, “It also takes a lot of energy for a ghost to do anything in our world. I think a majority of them never hit that level, or can’t keep it up for any significant amount of time. It’s also part of the reason my parents are so biased against them.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Think about it. Most ecto-entities are just like regular people, going about their business and keeping their heads down. The ones who are both motivated to cross into our world, powerful enough to manifest and tend to make themselves known are the troublemakers. It would be like an alien looking at the population of Belle Reve and concluding that the majority of humans must be super villains! It’s sample bias.”

Tim bit his lip. This all sounded worryingly plausible, which would mean a literal world of trouble about to come down on their heads. Fuck, just what we needed.

“You mentioned that ghosts can die. I assume you don’t mean from old age, right?” he queried. Jazz looked at him wearily.

“You’d be right. If an ecto-entity’s core is too badly damaged, they will cease to exist,” she said cautiously, “It doesn’t help that ghosts tend to maintain a strength based social hierarchy and are fiercely protective of their territory. Ecto-entities usually have a lair within the Infinite Realms, and those who cross over to our dimension often establish a haunt to call their own. Any intruders would be met with violence,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead, “My parents have also been developing weapons to fight ghosts with… varying degrees of success. A lot of their tech runs on ectoplasm which makes it pretty temperamental.”

Seeing Jazz’s obvious discomfort with the topic, Tim decided to switch tracks.

“Is there any way to tell for sure if my brother came back as a ghost?”

Relieved at the change, Jazz made a see-sawing motion with her hand.

“Kind of? My parents tried for ages to build a ghost detector but they never got it to work quite right. Too much ambient ectoplasm in Amity I guess,” she shrugged as if that statement wasn’t extremely worrying. “You could always grab a ouija board or something and try asking. Just… don’t ask a ghost about their death. It’s a major trauma for most of them and there’s no better way to send them into a frothing rage. If they volunteer the information that’s one thing, but to ask about it is like the social faux pas among ecto-entities.”

Tim nodded and made a mental note to get his hands on some Fenton tech. He had a feeling it was going to be a long week for him.

Jason and Tim didn’t speak until they were safely back in the car. Tim was mentally composing the report they would have to make to Bruce. He was not looking forward to his reaction.

“So,” Jason began with fake casualness, “an interdimensional portal in Illinois.”

“Yep.”

“Creatures made of fucking Lazarus Water.”

“Sounds like it.”

“And we still don’t know if our mystery meta is Bruce’s dead kid or not.”

Tim groaned.

“It all adds up though, doesn’t it? The camera glitching, the powers, the portal…”

“And that damned prophecy. The personification of Time, huh?”

Tim pinched his nose to stave off the growing headache. They contemplated the fucked up situation they had stumbled into in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jason sighed and started up the engine.

“Rock-paper-scissors for who has to tell B?”

Part 6

[companionjones]

Goat Legs

Pairing: Charles Xavier x Reader

Fandoms: Marvel, X-Men

Summary: You have the power to see other universes. Sadly, that power controls you.

Warnings: Universes colliding

*******

"I'm not asking you to take over my position permanently, just for a couple weeks."

Magneto's mood differed from yours completely. While you were relaxed and amused he was annoyed and agitated. "Yes. It starts off with a couple weeks, then you ask for an extension, then, the next thing I know, it's years later, and you and your lover are never coming back."

You laughed, "We're going to Cancun! You're acting as if we're travelling to another dimension."

"How can I expect you to come back here when you don't even want to go home right now?"

That question took you off guard. "I'm sorry?"

"It's time to wake up, Y/n."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's time to wake up."

"Stop it, Mag."

"You have to wake up, Y/n."

"I said stop it!"

"You have to wake up right now!"

Charles was in the middle of teaching a class when Raven burst into the room.

"She's awake," was all Raven said.

The professor turned back to his class with quite the worried expression. "Alright, keep reading chapter 12 everyone. Ms. Raven will be taking over for the time being."

The siblings shared a nod before Charles exited the classroom and began booking it down the hallways to get to you.

You were in an isolated wing of the Xavier Mansion. Charles thought it best to house you there so the students didn't hear your screams.

That choice was coming to fruition that day, as it did most days. Charles could hear your screams as he quickly quickly approached your door. His heart always experienced a lot of pain, seeing you like this. He couldn't even read your mind because it was too much for him. Charles could never imagine what it was like for you.

"My love! My love, I'm here. Please, you have to try to calm your mind."

As Charles rushed into your room and knelt at your bedside, you saw many different versions of him. One second, he was older. The next, he was the same age, but in a wheel chair. Then, you saw him bald. You tried to close your eyes to refresh your mind, but all you saw when you blinked was worlds and universes colliding. You screamed out in frustration, and reached out for Charles.

He took your hand and combed your hair with his fingers. "It's alright. It's alright, my love. We're together. We're home. Everything is okay."

"Tell that to Logan. He's lighting his cigar on an on-fire car as the world ends," you described what you were seeing.

It took a couple hours, but your episode had finally ended and you were calming down.

Charles still sat on your bed with you. He still had one of your hands in his, and he was combing through your hair with his free hand.

"You had goat legs," you quietly informed after hours of restless silence.

Xavier appropriately chuckled at that statement. "What?"

"You had goat legs," you repeated. "In one of my visions, you were having a young girl over for tea in the woods, and you had goat legs."

He scoffed. "That sounds like something out of Alice in Wonderland."

"It was quite whimsical," you admitted.

There was another silence between the two of you before you asked Charles, "Tell me about here again?"

He smiled. "We got everyone on our side after Cuba, even Erik. There still some arguments on how we should approach the rest of the world but we all teach the next generation of mutants here, at home."

Despite all the happy news, a tear rolled down your cheek. "I wish I could be more help."

Charles reminded you, "You don't have to be anything more or anything less than you are right now."

"Can we go for a walk? I'd like to see the kids," you told him.

Charles nodded, "Of course," as he helped you out of bed.

*******

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

[seokminfilm]

this man | yoon jeonghan

pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader

warnings: non-idol au, horror au, mystery, hints of slowburn??, deity!jeonghan (consider this lyr's late late LATE halloween special), even if jeonghan is an evil deity he is still a jokester, mentions of nightmares & horror-related things, based off of the 'this man' album and some analog horror elements, jeonghan's kinda awful in this, reader does not give two craps about jeonghan trying to drive her crazy, silly arguments ensue

now playing: this man, jxw & solitariat, oliver buckland

word count: a little over 1k (thank you @slytherinshua)

Jeonghan couldn't understand why he couldn't get into your head.

That's what he did best—he picked an innocent human, tainted by struggle, hurt, and the ways of everyday life, laying them down to sleep before he ruined their life in the most fun way he possibly could. Yes, it was evil, and yes, it was awful to the unsuspecting person he would choose, but what was Jeonghan supposed to do about it?

Beggars can't be choosers, can they?

It irked him though: you were unaffected by everything he did. Even when he caught you in a vulnerable position, sleeping soundly in your bed late at night, he couldn't seem to break through. There was a little something there—something in your mind that kept you safe and sound.

Jeonghan wanted to break it. He wanted to break you.

He sat quietly in the corner of your room, glaring over at the lamp in currently still on the highest setting. Jeonghan wasn't a big fan of light, as he was used to being in the dark (that's where all the good stuff happened), but if he had to blend in, the light wouldn't hurt him that badly.

He didn't have to blend in though, and therefore it hurt him.

Your dream played out as a movie in front of Jeonghan—he could see it all, from the parts that made little to no sense to the scenes that had real-life connections to your day, which amused Jeonghan. You had a mix of both realistic and nonsensical dreams, which gave him the perfect opportunity to slip in when the line became blurry.

There it was—the same scene he always got so close to getting into: you were sitting on a dusty old couch in a dingy room, television too bright as a man sat across from you.

The man had a crooked smirk on his face, and he offered you something every time, to which you would always say no—also making Jeonghan lose his chance to slip in and get you at your weakest point.

He looked eerily similar to Jeonghan too, with the same teasing gaze and sharp, delicate features that Jeonghan had familiarized himself with many times before.

The man said his repeated line, and you looked at him with your sparkling eyes, listening to his every word. Jeonghan stood over you now, ready to touch his cold fingertips to your cheek and take you away to his dimension. He smirked at your resting figure, taking joy in the fact you wouldn't know what had hit you.

And then, you said no, and woke up suddenly—shattering Jeonghan's plan altogether.

You weren't supposed to see him; no one was ever supposed to see the man—This Man—with their own eyes. It was an urban legend, one that Jeonghan got pleasure from seeing humans believe and converse over.

And now, that was all ruined because you woke up without giving Jeonghan a warning sign like a polite victim would.

"What are you doing in my house?" You asked—your voice was raised, and your hair was standing up on your arms, but you couldn't seem to feel fear in that moment. You were too in shock to scream or cry, and Jeonghan could feel your heart slowing down in your chest as you sat up under your sheets.

"Well, I was going to put you into a deep and ruin your life with a tap of my fingers, but you put an end to that so—congratulations," Jeonghan said sarcastically, stepping away from the side of your bed as his heels hit the floor.

You observed him as he sauntered back to your desk chair, sinking into its embrace with an air of relaxed confidence. He leaned back, the chair creaking softly under his weight, while his leg swung rhythmically, a casual pendulum of energy. His soft, black hair cascaded around his shoulders, creating a dark halo that framed his striking features, drawing attention to his sharp, intense eyes that seemed to hold a world of emotions. Jeonghan's skin, a ghostly pale, shimmered like porcelain, exuding an almost ethereal beauty that made him seem both fragile and alluring—like a delicate doll waiting to be admired and touched.

He was strikingly beautiful, resembling a premonition that filled you with more excitement than fear.

"Instead of gaping at me like you've seen a ghost, you could say sorry," Jeonghan replies simply, shocking you out of your stupor as you scoff just seconds later.

"Say sorry? You're a man who's in my bedroom at midnight standing over me and watching me sleep—why would I be the one to apologize here?" You ask with an accusatory tone, and Jeonghan laughs, voice melodic and teasing as he leans forward in his chair, eyeing you down.

"Oh, I think I'm going to like you." Jeonghan smiles, teeth blindingly white as you pull your blankets over you, suddenly feeling exposed.

"You're..." You trail off, and Jeonghan nods, face proud as if he's read your mind and is more than happy to make himself known to you.

"Yes, I'm the Man they keep talking about. You can admire me, I don't mind it." Jeonghan's voice is lifted as he looks up at you through his long eyelashes, and you slowly get out of bed, still wary of what you're seeing as Jeonghan sighs.

"There's no need to be all suspicious of me—I am who I say I am," Jeonghan states, and he smiles at you, taking note of your wide eyes.

"Why are you here? At my house?" You ask another question, and Jeonghan sighs as if he's answering a question you've asked him for the umpteenth time.

"I wanted to get you next. But obviously, you had different plans." Jeonghan scoffs, and you stare back at him, still confused. "Get me?"

"I was going to go into your head while you sleep, interfere in your dream in some way, and then ruin your life and or drive you insane." Jeonghan giggles lightheartedly, standing up from his chair as he walks towards you. His strides are long and relaxed, heels resounding through your room as his eyes land on you.

"You're too strong though. I can't get in." Jeonghan's voice drops down to a bone-chilling whisper, and you flush, averting your eyes as he pulls away.

"You intrigue me, and I plan to learn about you more and more as time goes on. I want what you have." Jeonghan's eyes burn through your skin, but you suddenly don't mind it.

Jeonghan—The Man—intrigues you too, and you plan to know more about him as well.

for @kstrucknet | feedback & reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

[ash5monster01]

The Stranger

Chapter Five - Just The Way You Are 🎶

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, minor angst, self conflict, personal doubts, struggle with emotion.

Summary: Steve starts to wonder why you’ve been with him for so long. You remind him you love him exactly the way he is.

word count: 2.9k

Four ←→ Six

Masterlist

Spring 1989

I need to know that you will always be the same old someone that I knew

It had been four years since you first met Steve. Right here in this very town you now walk hand and hand through. When you both did things like this it always reminded Steve of the first time you both met. How he had asked you to join him and you stayed by his side since. If he was being honest, walking this very town with you always made him happy, and he wouldn’t trade that for the world. That’s what’s on his mind when he spots the familiar shop down the road, both your feet leading in that direction. Ron's records barely survived the surge of the mall but thanks to it shutting down he was somehow still here with those two worn and old chairs in the window.

"It’s crazy how much can change in such a short time" you say to Steve, eyes glancing around the town that was still fairly empty. Many businesses shut down all those years ago and never ended up coming back. It was nothing compared to what it used to be. Only the movie theater, pharmacy, newspaper, diner, and Rons Record's remained. It was enough though, at least for the both of you.

"So crazy" Steve agrees, mind starting to wrap around this statement. For the first time as he walks these streets with you, he is uneasy, mind running wild as he considers the fact that it had only been a short amount of time since you met. It had felt like a lifetime but it was truly only four years. He knew what could change in four years. The four years from 1983 to 1987 was enough evidence of that. He had fought and seen enough monsters in a lifetime, but when he thought about the horrors of Hawkins, it shocked him to realize it was really only four years. Barely a fraction of someones life and yet it changed him forever. This realization brought a new fear that burrowed its way into his chest.

In that short amount of time he had fallen in love, got his heart broken, made new friends, entered a different dimension, and fell in love all over again. So what shocked him was that the two of you hadn't changed yet. That you hadn't changed your mind about him yet. Four years was a long time to love somebody, especially him. So why hadn't you left him yet, moved on and found something bigger and better? Something much better than him and this small town. Suddenly he felt like he was holding you back from something great.

"Hey, where'd you go?" you ask, hand reaching to brush some hair out of his face. Steve snapped back to reality, eyes glancing into your own and then around the empty street beside you both. Trying to collect not only himself but his thoughts as he looked at you.

"Sorry, just thinking" he said, mind still a little far away and drowning in doubts. He just wanted to be prepared if you finally did realize he was nothing special and you moved on. He didn't want to get too attached unless he knew just how real this was between you two. Then again he already was attached, so why hadn't this fear come to mind sooner? Why hadn't this fear come before you moved in together, before he set his heart full on you?

"Well Albert Einstein, let's take this big brain over to Ron's" you grin at him, amusement sparkling in those ever so dazzling eyes. Eyes he realized he was determined to look at forever and wouldn't be able to survive if he never got to see them again. He doesn't fully come around in time to respond but your hand laced within his own is tugging him across the street and over to the familair store. The very store he met you in.

Pushing inside the bells on the door chime, alerting Ron and his young daughter Emily of your entrance. Steve spots them both behind the counter, heads lifting to see what new customer walked through the door. Ron's quick to wear a smile, the sight of Steve an instaneous happy reaction. Yet your face is now familiar too and it feels like not so long ago he watched you two kids meet for the very first time. So you guide Steve right up to the counter, prepared and ready to greet them both with the kind smile you wore better than absolutely anyone he knew.

"Ron, Emily, how's it going?" you beam at them, letting go of Steve's hand to lean up against the counter. The question is genuine coming from you and both of them know that as they match your smile right back and respond.

"Better now that you're here" Ron suggests, a happy grin on his face and both you and Steve laugh at this response. Just as Steve goes to reach and shake Ron’s hand he doesn't get the chance because Ron's daughter Emily is already calling your name, excitement oozing out of her.

"Did you hear the new Beastie Boys album came out?" she smiles wide, eyes glimmering with adoration that you clearly recognize as love. You probably looked the same way at her age when someone mentioned Micheal J. Fox. In fact you probably still looked that way about both him and Steve.

“No, show me!” you’re quick to match her excitement and she jumps up, rushing off and around the counter to show you her new obsession. Steve watches as you walk away, a soft smile on his face as he momentarily forgets the fear within him.

“Better not lose that one son” Ron says, pulling Steve’s attention to him with the point of his finger. Steve just smiles, shaking his head as he offers the man a laugh.

“I don’t plan on it” Steve tells him and Ron just smiles, that knowing look in his eyes when he was onto something. Steve had seen it only a few times in his life and Ron had yet to be wrong. He hoped it wasn’t the same for this particular instance because he knew whatever he had to say was against his behavior. Per usual.

“Then you better lock her down, it’s been four years after all. Make a move” Ron says, a slight annoyance in his tone. If Steve’s Grandpa was here he’d be right at his side telling him what an idiot he was for not proposing yet. Steve wasn’t getting any younger, he was twenty two and that was an age you finally started to settle down.

“I know” is the only response Steve can give, the very object burning a hole in his pocket. He grabbed it the day they got back from Indianapolis and had carried it with him since. Waiting for the perfect moment, the perfect mood, to make you his forever. Never in his life had he thought of carrying his Grandmas ring, that was until you.

“I know that look, what’re you planning?” Ron says, tapping his pen against the boys hand up on the counter and bring his attention back to him. Steve chuckles, eyes cast over to the two girls who stand by one of the various record players in the building and listen to the new Beastie Boys album.

“I was planning on proposing-” Ron’s eyes instantly widen with excitement but the look Steve gives him stops him before it goes too far. “But I can’t seem to find the right time and I think it’s because I’m afraid that she doesn’t want this forever. Doesn’t want me”

“You’re kidding?” Ron gives him a dumbfounded look, holding back to urge to smack the boy upside the head. Steve gives him a wild look, wondering what was so wrong about his fears.

“I’m serious, she’s too good for me” Steve says in a defense as if it was any defense at all. It should just be all the more reason to make sure he got to have you forever.

“Harrington, that girl has been coming in here ever since she moved to Hawkins and I have never seen her talk to anyone but you. My eyes nearly fell out of my skull that day because I didn’t even think she could hold conversation. Sounds to me you caught her eye first” Ron preaches, words sharp and firm as if to get the point across and Steve nods, looking in her direction again just to consider these very words. He had never thought about the fact that you were the one to say something to him that day. If you hadn't he may of never even noticed you and now he was sad for an entirely different reason.

"She really is the best" Steve mutters and Ron stares at him hard, trying to understand what’s going through his head. When he finally sees the fear he does what he knows Steve's Grandpa would do if he was here.

"Talk to her, tell her your fears, and if she answers correctly then you have your answer son" Ron says and then he's calling Emily over, claiming he needs her help and leaving the two of you to talk. Steve catches his point pretty easy and moves to take you over the the chairs he would only ever share with his Grandpa and you. Not without snagging a Billy Joel album first, and you smile and put it on the record player just like you did the first time you met. Movin' Out from The Stranger begins to play and it's when you settle in your seat beside him you finally catch the uneasy look on his face.

"What's wrong?" You ask, eyebrows drawn together and small pout on your face. You look adorable and Steve would kiss you if it wasn’t for the crushing weight of his doubts.

“Am I enough for you?” He suddenly blurts and the shocked face that paints your features immediately makes it hard to determine if you’re offended or upset.

“Steve are you joking? Of course you are, exactly the way you are too” you say, voice a little breathless as you struggle to comprehend what he had just said to you. This was Steve after all. Cool and confident Steve. So where had this fear suddenly come from?

“I just, I want to make sure you’re happy and if I need to change or let you go I’m willing to do that, because I love you. I’ll always love you and I want you to be happy” and as much as his words make your heart soar you find it breaking too because how had you not loved this boy enough to erase such fears.

“Please don’t go changing to try and please me” you beg, hand reaching over and clasping around his own with a desperate squeeze. “You’ve never let me down before and I know you won’t now.

“Rosy I let everyone down” Steve begins to shake his head, brunette tresses swaying atop his head. “You’re not very familiar with the guy I was before but he’s sadly still in here”

“Steve please stop. We have both had our moments but it takes the right person to accept those. I have accepted you for you Steve and I hope you’ve done the same for me. We’re in deep now, I could never leave you in times of trouble and we definitely wouldn’t have made it this far if I did” you plead, tone desperate for him to understand this is it for you. You had decided that before you even moved in together. You had already agreed to a lifetime the day you met him.

“I know but I’ve felt that way about a person for them to never feel the same before so I just wanted to bring it up before-“ but you’re waving a hand and putting his little rant to a stop.

“No, stop. Listen, I’ll take the good times and the bad times. I’m taking you just the way you are so no changing on me now Steve. No new fashions or changing the color of your hair. You will always have my unspoken passion even if you think I don’t care” you tell him, scooting closer to him in your seat which suddenly seems to far away as you try to portray your desperate and vulnerable feelings for him.

“I want you just the way you are too. I don’t need clever conversation or want to work that hard for you. I just need someone I can talk to” Steve voices back just as desperate and as honest as he can be. You can’t help but laugh at the desperation coming from both of you in this moment.

“Listen to me Steve, I need to know that you will always be the same old someone that I knew. I love you just like that. What will it take for you to believe in me the way I believe in you?” You ask, tears rimming your eyes as you wait to see if any of your words have stuck with him. That they’ve intertwined with his soul and become a part of his entire being. It’s the silence from his end that scares you entirely.

“I said I love you and that’s forever. I promise from my heart that I couldn’t love you any better than I already do, I love you just the way you are” you tell him, now falling to your knees beside him as you squeeze his hand tighter within his own. Steve looks at you with a look you can’t read and finally a smile cracks along his face.

“This is not how I pictured asking you to marry me” he says with a soft chuckle and you blink slowly, trying to process the words he just said.

“What?” You mutter, brain trying to catch up with what is exactly happening. Steve just grins and digs into his jean pocket.

“I guess if you’re already down there professing your love to me though I have a pretty strong feeling on what the answer is gonna be” he says and suddenly the prettiest ring you’ve ever seen is glimmering in front of your eyes, pinched between Steve’s strong fingers and you can’t stop the ugly tears that begin to pour down your face.

“Mind if we trade places?” Steve asks in a hushed whisper but you’re standing and barreling into his arms, your own locking around his neck tightly as you begin to cry harder in his lap.

“Yes Steve, yes, oh my God” you cry out and Steve laughs, hugging you back tightly as you ball like a baby.

“I didn’t even ask if you’d marry me yet” he teases but you pull back and shake your head, offering your left hand so he can slide the silver band around your finger.

“No need, I was the one on my knees. Will you marry me?” You respond, eyes glued to the gorgeous diamond now shining back at you.

“I think you know my answer to that” Steve says and your kissing him as hard as you possibly can, not even caring if your tears dampen his face or you’re crushing him to tightly in your embrace. Steve Harrington just proposed to you and now you’re the happiest you’ve ever been.

It’s when you hear clapping the two of you finally pull away and spot Ron and Emily who had clearly just watched what had gone down. You let out an embarrassed chuckle, wiping the tear stains off your face as you smile back at them. Steve squeezes your waist lightly before urging you to stand up with him. You obey and wrap your arms around his waist the minute you’re both up.

“I knew you had it in you!” Ron cheers and Steve laughs as he presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

“I hate that you’re always right” Steve says as you approach them and Ron offers Steve an approving handshake as you let go of Steve for a moment to hug Emily. You hug Ron right after, unable to hide the giant grin on your face.

“You knew?” You ask Ron after a moment and he smiles, hand reaching to squeeze your shoulder as he looks at the two of you. Happy, exactly like Steve’s grandparents when he met them all those years ago.

“Yeah, he just needed a shove in the right direction” Ron says and Steve shakes his head, laughing and embracing the feeling of having his heart full of love for the first time in a long time.

“Thanks Ron, I needed it” Steve admits and Ron nods like he understands on a much deeper level then you ever will but you’re okay with that. You’re okay with anything right now.

“I know, now you two kids go and be engaged, have fun” he urges you both out the door and you laugh, arms wrapped around each other as if you’ll never let go. You probably never will.

“We have to tell Dustin and Robin first, then we can have fun” you say and Steve nods in agreement, stepping out the shop doors with you as you now stand within the street he just thought was so empty. It wasn’t anymore now with just the two of you.

“Then let’s go future Mrs. Harrington”

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[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 10

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Mature (Rating to Increase)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,425 of 27,089

Start | Prev | Next

AO3 Link

We don't talk about the kiss. I spend most of my time in the hallway, reading one of the books he had gotten along with our set of winter traveling clothes. None of the clothes are green, all of them varying shades of brown and beige. I feel as if a storm has picked us up and blown us into a different dimension, stripped of any finery or verdant life, stripped of friends and family. I'd give anything to be able to talk to even Emily right now. When we pull into Wittica, I'm glued to the door, hand on the handle even before the train pulls to a stop.

As I slide the door open, I breathe in the cold, thin air. It's harder to breathe up here, something that I hadn't thought much about as the iron beast tore and climbed through the Pertha hills. Those same hills had gone from simple rolling mounds of winter yellow grass to wide and sturdy mountains. As I look across the city skyline, I can see the barest covering of snow on top of them, as if Lurline herself had come through in the middle of the night to dust them with a powdered sugar. The entire village seems to have thanked her for this honor by stringing thick garlands weighed heavy with oranges and cranberries and salt dough cookies from every gutter, every unionist steeple, and even the train station lampposts.

Beside one of those lampposts is an older woman dressed in an elaborate gown of lavender silk with beaded vines of pink and midnight blue that creep up the side of the skirt. Her eyes light up as the Wizard disembarks behind me, stepping forward to meet us.

"Still alive, I see," she says, dry amusement in her voice.

"And wouldn't you know it," he replies with a smile, "I feel better than ever." He kisses her once on each cheek as they embrace.

I can feel my cheeks burn. It feels as if I'm looking in through the window of a neighbor far away. Presumably, she must be our guide for the day – even if a tad overdressed – but it's clear that the Wizard knows her priorly if he wasn't a true friend completely of hers. I’ve come to know him more in-depth this past month, but I have never seen him get even remotely close to anyone he'd ever met the way he has with her.

"The train hasn't been too bad, has it?" she asks, cocking her head to the side in care.

"Hey, it's only as bad as you let it be. First night was rough, but it's gotten better."

Ouch. His words feel like a smack. Was I really that intolerable that sequestering myself in the hallway was preferable to him than spending time with me in the living compartment? I bite the inside of my cheek, inching closer to the two of them.

"Well, we have a lot to discuss and I've reserved us a private room down at Florio's tea shop. You know how I love-" She stops mid-sentence, giving me a quick look up and down. "Is there something you need from us? The train will depart again soon. I'm sure you have much work to do."

I blink at the assumption, but the Wizard steps in, putting an arm around me, and introduces me to her. "She witnessed the ambassador taking the Grimmerie," he says quickly. "An invaluable resource when the time for trials comes. Now, about that tea shop."

Morrible looks me over, letting her eyes linger on the dirt brown skirt and white blouse that I had picked for the day. Satisfied that the Wizard was telling the truth, she turns from us and leads the way down the platform. The Wizard offers me his arm, but I just look at it before following after Morrible.

"It's a nice break coming here, away from children," she says as we step out onto the dark purple brick streets of Wittica. Where Settica had been all oatmeal and drab, the facades of Wittica seem to have taken it as an offense, painting themselves in warm hues of orange and yellow that stand out against the fresh blue sky. We must have arrived at the right time because the platform is empty and there isn’t much foot traffic out on the streets. It's probably just past the lunch hour.

"How's that whole thing going, by the way?" the Wizard asks. I startle at his voice because, despite having refused his offer of an escort, he is still right beside me. I roll my eyes and continue following Morrible as she takes us through a main thoroughfare.

"Are you asking if I've found any exceptionally talented witches or wizards?" she says, looking over a beaded shoulder. "Hardly. More of the same. The farther we get from the Ancient Ones, the more rare magic has become."

"I could really use a powerhouse right about now," he sighs. "You really got nothing?"

Morrible gives him a disapproving look before taking us down an alley that has been strung with lights overhead. A wooden sign in the shape of a crescent moon hangs above a doorway, painted in pastels to read "Florio's Teas".

We step into the shop and it almost feels like home. The sweet and spiced aromas mixed with fresh cookies could have come straight from the kitchens back at the Emerald Palace. Lurlinemas is only a few days away, so the cinnamon and oranges are stronger than ever, and every table has been set with a cranberry red lantern, a candle flickering happily inside. I'm drawn to the counter, spying some particularly cute gingerbread cookies that are shaped like reindeer, but Morrible leads us back past all of the tables and into a room with paned bubbled glass doors. There is already a feast of small treats and teapots that have been set at a little table for two.

"I didn't think that we would be having any guests," Morrible explains. "Your letter didn't say anything about a stowaway."

I wring my hands, looking around. "I could just sit outside," I say. I wish I had brought my book knowing that I was going to be such a burden.

"What?" the Wizard says. "No, no... no, look here-" He picks up one of the cafe chairs from outside and sets it so it's perpendicular to the other two chairs. Morrible's lips curl into a frown, but she takes a seat at one of the chairs and the Wizard closes the doors. I take a seat in the bony cafe chair that the Wizard had brought in, tucking my hands beneath my skirt and thighs.

"I spoke to the Lord-Mayor," Morrible says. "He is not eager for war, but could be persuaded if the price is high enough." She pours herself a cup of tea that has a purple tint to it. There's a tag on top of the pot but I can't make out what it says. I don't even have a cup to pour any tea into, but my eyes light up when I see some of those reindeer cookies from earlier. I pluck one off of the tiered tray and take a bite of spiced antler.

"Yeah that figures," the Wizard says as he sits down. "How high are we talking?"

"I'm sure some tax breaks to Gillikin as well as taking his grandson into your service as a young diplomat," Morrible replies.

"No," the Wizard says, waving off the idea. "I don't do children. They get in the way and touch all your things..." he shudders and I think I have the same vision as him of a little boy slapping a sticky hand on the control panel for the mechanical head in the throne room.

"It’s nothing to worry about. His grandson is sixteen and well-behaved: a quiet boy," Morrible says, setting down her cup of tea.

The Wizard takes one of the gingerbread reindeer and points it at Morrible. "You should have gone into politics," he says before biting off the head of the reindeer.

Morrible gives him a coy smile, picking up her teacup again. "No. That's what I have you for." She takes a sip of the tea and says, "Politics disgusts me. I'd rather tell someone I hate them to their face."

The Wizard leans back in his chair, copying her smile. "And do you hate me?" he asks, taking another bite of the reindeer.

"This war is giving me a headache," she says. "I hate you for that."

"I might hate myself for it too," he laughs.

I bite the head off of my reindeer as I watch the banter flow easily between the two. When the Wizard wasn't busy intimidating those beneath him, he had an uncapturable charm that could soften and woo, winning you over to his side with a laugh and a warm touch even if he was getting you to agree to drink poison. What he had to offer Morrible certainly wasn't poison, but it hinged on the Emerald City and its allies breaking the siege: the promise of peace and a secured spot at the table, but nothing more. Morrible doesn't look like the type to fall for easy trickery and a wink of an eye, but her eyes now shine with a certain thrill and her cold demeanor has melted away entirely.

"I am not privy to information regarding the defense force," she says, "but if I were, I would say he could probably lend you a thousand of his guards."

"Hey, a thousand? That's not bad," he says excitedly, "but we're talking about- to siege a city... he must have at least five thousand. I haven’t heard anything from the palace guard yet."

"I have tried telling him this," Morrible says, "but unless you offer much more, a thousand will be all you can get."

"I sent Thropp a letter," he says, "but I haven't heard back from him. You wouldn't by chance happen to have..." his hand waits poised, as if he were trying to pick the right word out of the air.

"Spoken with him? No," she says.

"Could you? I mean... It wouldn't hurt," he says.

Morrible sets her teacup down again, folding her hands into her lap. She says, "I'm not familiar with him the way you are."

"Could you get the Lord-Mayor to send something? Some reassurance that there will be others?" the Wizard asks.

"I'm a very busy woman," Morrible says, getting up from her chair. "I've already asked too much from him."

The Wizard rises too, and I watch as if it were magic the way he moves, like a well-rehearsed dance, taking her hand in his, wrapping his other arm around her decorated shoulder. "I really appreciate you coming out all this way. I'm sure you have school to get back to – I wouldn't want to keep you, of course – but I'll see you at the safe house?" He brings her hand to his lips, placing the sweetest of kisses on it. I watch as he drinks her deeply in with his amber eyes, and just for a sliver of a second, she shies away in a blush, before meeting his eyes again.

I want to run or throw the whole tray of cookies at him. I'm glued to my chair, as I watch him flirt with her, not begging on his knees, but getting the exact same effect. In my heart, I know that this isn't the first time he's sweet-talked her like this, nor the farthest he's ever gone. They are made for each other, the way they dance in tandem, like a perfect waltz, even better than Fiyero and I, for they have had years of practice. The urge to throw something at him subsides, washing away to reveal a basin of emptiness at the realization that these were the tricks he plays and that I mean nothing to him. Even if I had ever meant something, it was less than whatever was well-aged and rich with Morrible.

"I'm going to wait outside," I say. It strikes me that it's the first time I've spoken since we entered this awful tea shop. I hurry out and shut the door behind me before the tears can pour out in front of them. We hadn’t spoken since the kiss, but I thought he would have cared at least a little bit if he was jealous enough to prevent Fiyero from kissing me. It was a stupid thing to think that he ever actually cared about me at all, a naive conception that I had nursed into a fantasy. I bite the inside of my cheek as a punishment. I wonder if I might not be back in the Emerald City with Fileah by now if I had just accepted that everything was a mind game to him, and I couldn't trust a word out of his mouth. The Wizard doesn't care if I'm safe: he just wants what's best for him. He will always put himself first, even if it means making me fall in love.

I shake my head at the ridiculous notion. Using the cuffs of my blouse, I dry my eyes. It’s not long before the Wizard and Morrible exit the private room.

"I'll send word to the Lord-Mayor and see what I can do," Morrible says. "Maybe there will be even more troops that he can spare." A clock on the wall chimes, striking the hour. Had we really been in there that long?

"Ah!" she says. "I have to go. The next train back to Settica leaves in 20 minutes. Please enjoy the rest of the tea. It has already been paid for." She leaves the tea shop, not in any particular hurry, and I wonder if she'll make it back to the station in time.

"Did you want some more tea?" he asks, resting a hand on my shoulder. My veins feel cold as he brushes his thumb back and forth along my shoulder blade. I can already feel the tears welling up again.

"Can we just go back to the train?" I say softly, trying to hide the way my voice is constricting.

"We can do whatever you want," he says, squeezing my shoulder. The last ember of hope in me thinks she hears the tones of a father, trying to comfort a disappointed child, but I close it into my fist, suffocating it.

"Okay.”

[theallianceofcelestials]

Hi, so i've been having this question for a good while now.

How would the SEA family react to Ruin?

I imagine them trowing questions like:

What do you mean that's Sun and Moon AT THE SAME TIME, BUT HE IS ALSO NOT EXACLTY THEM!?

What do you mean HE'S ALSO A ALTERNATIVE VERSION OF ECLIPSE!?

What do you mean this animatronic destroyed 5000+ in the blink of a eye?! HOW WAS HE ABLE TO DO THAT?! (This one more probaly came from Eclipse)

Why is he british!? (More like Bloodmoon or Lunar asking what's that funny accent he has)

And how is he possible?! wait- there's more like him?!

You know ,the usual stuff.

Btw, i really like and aprecciate your work and enjoy your writing, it's really good.

Someone asked this question before you, somhere's Part 1

They'd be freaked out by his body count. When they realise there were probably people who were celestials like them in those dimensions, they'd be pissed.

Eclipse would still ask him about the hows and whys. He understands hating the humans that created you, and he wouldn't have minded if it was just his creator Ruin destroyed. But all these other people?

He may punch him in the face, but no worries about that, because I think Ruin is used to that by this point. He sure wasn't bothered by all that scorn and abuse on the surface before, so he won't let anything slip now either.

Ruin will have the easier time developing a friendly relationship with: Eclipse, Sun, Killcode and Solar Flare

While he may struggle with: Lunar, Bloodmoon and Moon

This wouldn't mean that he's trusted. Not at first though. Trust would be slow, helped greatly when it's revealed to them he's trying.

They also already know thanks to Canon he's the one who brought Canon Eclipse back, but they'd still ask him why, despite knowing the answer

Killcode would also make him stand up, because by god he's sensing a potential dad-friend and he's not going to let Ruin get away with rebuilding Eclipse and not taking responsibility for him. Parenting an Eclipse is great and rewarding! You'll see! Ruin stop trying to run away and get back here! You may be fast but I'm faster!

Sun and Moon would at times be the bad cop and the good cop with him. They would be the ones monitoring most of his interactions with the 'kids', because KC is too busy trying to get him to be the dad that stepped up if Canon KC didn't. They also just want to see that shitshow go down while eating popcorn. Also they're amused by the whole nice and mean one act. They deserve to do a bit of evil as a treat 💅

Bloodmoon would threaten eating him. They might even chomp down on him sometimes to prove they're 'serious'. They aren't, but they greatly enjoy bullying the funny accentman. He's amusing and gratifyingly expressive.

Solar Flare is just silently staring at him, making him uncomfortable. It's their way of trying to bond with a stranger. They're testing the waters.

Lunar would demand uppies after he got to know Ruin a bit more, to see if he gives great uppies. Being a daycare attendant, he probably does, so that's satisfying. After that the next test is playing a game together.

And the accent is just something everyone's trying to figure out the logistics behind. Like what do you mean two USA accents made a British one somehow?? If Moon's going to cut him open for something, it's that.

Eclipse secretely really likes it though, cuz it makes him more soft-spoken and he prefers that over loudness. And he has more than enough loud people in his life

(Also thanks! I'm really happy you enjoy my writing! :> )

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

So I have this one other idea, a little thought but like...

What if the whole Heaven / Hell thing wasn't the only afterlife?

What if Al's Ma isn't in Heaven, because she fervently believed in something else. As he did.

But he was too curious... too fixated on following after the men he killed in life, once he knew they clearly made it to this new existence, and Alastor slipped between the dimensional gateways into Hell.

Where he came from is sealed in his mind, and his mouth bound to prevent sharing it. Solely because it would cause great harm.

He was one of many powerful entities from the realm he left; some were of light, some of earth, some of dark, some of the air and waves and, and, and. Depending on how their faith and worship shaped them.

He was one of the creatures of darkness.

He was not the most powerful, but most in that realm didn't fight, not in the way sinners did in Hell. The translation over did change him, morphed his form... and he does miss the chance to speak to his mother, to those he'd forged bonds with there... but, this chaotic realm stirred something in his heart.

Something that was lost in the place of general tranquility.

It's why he came as something unusual, something powerful, something terrifyingly otherworldly... that made even the overlords shudder. Perhaps he's not the only one, though.

Others have slipped through cracks from other places before, oh, a drip over millennia of course. But, a few can sense one another... like Zestial was clearly of [sound that felt like a lensflare in your third eye] and was most amused by Alastor's arrival.

And if Carmilla didn't fall through from Valhalla, then who could even claim to do so? She was a living weapon.

In short, there's more out there than any realise.

And it's going to cause a problem soon. The realms intersect, the realities are fraying at the constant erosion... and Lucifer is too focused on his own despair to follow the sharp tingles in his flight feathers that normally warn him of the problem.

Not until it's too late. Not until a sinner or two falls the other way. Goetia Seers panic and reach out to the Monarch, who has just vanquished Adam, and his alarm makes even Charlotte's heart thud painfully in her breast.

"Bad?"

"Horrendous."

That's when he notices the small tears. When he trails the energies back to the Sinners who slipped through... to Zestial, to Carmilla, to Alastor, to a mix of others that he drags to his throne by compulsion alone.

Fuck, there's a dozen of them. None from the same realm. That's a lot of sewing to do... cosmically speaking.

"Problem, little monarch?" Alastor coos, his grin clearly amused at this chaos.

"You! You and the others, you've caused a rift between our dimensions!"

"Oh settle yourself, we were just coming over to see what you had here..."

"Well now we have to fix it before all the realms start to bleed together."

"Sounds like an angel problem to me..."

He hurls hellfire at the deer.

----------

Maybe there's something they need from each realm to help bind them shut. Hotel gang and various sinners who lived there group adventure!

[slutoru1207]

Variants!Invincible x Variants!Reader imagine

just a short fun imagine

The battlefield was already a mess before they showed up.

Mark barely had time to react before he heard the rip of dimensions being torn open, followed by an ungodly amount of shouting. He turned just in time to see not one, not two, but an entire squadron of himself stumbling through glowing portals, their expressions ranging from confused to deeply irritated.

“Oh, hell no,” Mark muttered. “Not this again.”

And then, because the universe hated him, the next portal opened—

And they arrived.

All of them. So many versions of you.

Mark’s stomach dropped as he locked eyes with his you, who was watching with wide, amused eyes. Then she turned to him, smiling so sweetly that he knew she was about to enjoy every second of this train wreck.

“This is gonna be so good,” she whispered gleefully.

Before he could respond, one of the Invincible variants groaned. “Oh, great. You’re here, too?”

One of the Reader variants put a hand over her heart, gasping dramatically. “Babe, don’t act like you’re not thrilled to see me.”

“I’d rather take a beating from Omni-Man.”

“Oh, honey.” She stepped closer, tilting her head. “That’s exactly what happened last time, and who was the one patching you up and kissing you better?”

Mark—original Mark—choked on air.

One of the other Invincible variants groaned, rubbing his temples. “Can we not do this right now?”

A different Reader variant scoffed. “Oh, I’m sorry, are we interrupting your little multiversal tantrum?” She waved a hand at the destroyed city behind them. “Because it really looks like you guys are making a mess.”

“Yeah, babe, not a great look,” another Reader chimed in, hands on her hips as she eyed her Mark up and down. “Honestly, I expected better.”

“Wait, you’re disappointed in me?” her Mark shot back incredulously.

“I love you, but also? Get your shit together.”

Mark buried his face in his hands. “I hate this. I hate all of this.”

Meanwhile, his reader was laughing herself sick.

—

The Guardians of the Globe arrived twenty minutes later and immediately regretted it.

“Uh,” Rex whispered, elbowing Eve. “Are we sure we need to be here?”

Eve was staring at the massive group of Invincibles, all arguing with their respective Readers. “I… I don’t know.”

“You think if we just, like… back away slowly, they won’t notice?”

Before Eve could answer, one of the Reader variants sprinted past them, leaped onto an Invincible’s back, and bit his ear.

“YOU LITTLE—” That Mark immediately started spinning in the air to try and shake her off, but she held on like a demon.

“Oh my God,” Eve whispered. “They’re feral.”

Rex looked at Original Mark, who was standing off to the side, looking like he wanted to die. “Dude. What is happening?”

Mark just let out a long sigh. “I don’t know, man. I just don’t know.”

—

After an entire hour of fighting, flirting, and general multiversal nonsense, they finally managed to somewhat settle down.

Which only meant that the chaos took a different form.

“Okay, okay,” one of the Invincibles—who wore a black suit instead of Mark’s usual yellow—leaned forward. “Hypothetically speaking—”

“No,” Original Mark said immediately.

Black-Suit Mark ignored him. “If one of us dated a Reader from a different universe—”

“NO.”

“—would it be cheating, or just dating the same person?”

Original Mark groaned. “What is wrong with you?!”

One of the Reader variants smirked. “I think it depends.”

“Don’t encourage this,” Mark pleaded.

Black-Suit Mark grinned. “I like this version of you.”

“Oh, I bet you do,” his Reader counterpart shot back, winking.

Across the room, another Invincible sighed deeply. “God, this is why I never date.”

His Reader rolled her eyes. “Oh please, you love me.”

“No, I tolerate you.”

She just beamed. “That’s practically a love confession coming from you.”

Original Mark stared at the sheer disaster in front of him and turned to his Reader with a desperate look. “This is my hell.”

She just smiled sweetly, kissed his cheek, and whispered, “You love me.”

Mark groaned, dropping his head onto her shoulder. “I do. And that’s the worst part.”

And with that, the multiversal chaos continued.

[geniarts]

BillFord is canon

This was the title of a post I made on my previous tumblr account 6 years ago (acc was banned for unknown reason and I can't see my posts). Now, with the kind help of @decaying-dimension who gave me HD scans of the Book of Bill pages, I want to make a new summary of the subject.

You know, a month ago I was really surprised to see all those BillFord posts. Like people only realized it just recently even though there were plenty of hints in the series and especially in Journal 3. Back then, when I tried to say something about Bill and Ford relations, I got only hate and accusations. So now I feel a sense of triumph as all my thoughts were correct. Now let's see why we can say BillFord is in fact a canon.

Ford's feelings. Well, this point is so obvious that I'm really amused some people still can't take it right and keep talking about abuse, manipulations, etc. Yes, Bill used Ford to achieve his goal and then broke his heart, but those two years before his betrayal were the happiest years of Ford's life.

Ever since his childhood, Ford was teased for his fingers and had such deep communication issues that he gladly moved to a secluded place in the woods. He wished to someday become famous and show all his abusers that they were wrong. He wanted to be a hero, not a freak. He needed attention, admiration, recognition, and Bill gave him just that.

Ford called himself a Cipherholic, and that he was. Just think about a guy who turned his own house into a shrine. He was so obsessed with Bill that he collected every Bill artifact he could find, and in addition, surrounded himself with glass pyramids and dozens of hand drawn portraits all around his study.

Some people said that this wasn't a romantic feeling, just a religious one, but you know what? If you don't love someone with all your heart, you wouldn't be eager to see him in your dreams, you wouldn't reflect about the complex fates that brought you and him together, you wouldn't choose him over your only loyal friend. (Speaking of fate, in the Book of Bill there's a picture of baby Ford reaching for a yellow triangle as a sign that their destinies will be tied together) My, Ford even saw Bill's image in the stars! This was the most romantic thing in the whole Journal 3.

Ford trusted Bill so much he let him into his body and mind, and this is the highest level of trust a man could ever give. Bill was his beloved Muse, his sunshine, the center of his life, and he didn't want to hear anything bad about him. Ford ignored all the warnings like some blind lover and even kicked Fiddleford because he trusted Bill more than his old friend.

So now we clearly see that Ford didn't consider Bill just some kind of deity, but his partner, his closest friend, his beloved.

I won't speculate if there was something between them during "karaoke night" as I'm sure in this case Ford wouldn't behave the same way he always did (or maybe he just forgot the ending of that night :)) but the whole picture of them drinking together and the excitement Ford felt at that moment... well I'm sure he wouldn't mind if "one thing led to another" to its peak ;)

Bill's betrayal wounded Ford very badly and I can understand why he vowed to take revenge on him. He spent 30 years seeking information about Bill and building a weapon capable of destroying him, so we can say the most part of his life was dedicated to Bill in one way or another. Even now that he's reunited with his family, he can't get rid of his thoughts about Bill, and I doubt he will ever be able to.

Bill's feelings aren't so obvious as he's a hardened liar and pretender. That's why most people saw only one side of his personality, but even 6 years ago there were some hints of his inner thoughts and motives. The Axolotl said Bill was pretending to be happy, but deep inside he missed his home that he couldn't even return to. Hirsch also said that he used the concept of Flatland (a book written by Edwin Abbott) where triangles were one of the lowest classes, so this was another reason for Bill to seek power and to show others they were wrong about him (just like Ford).

Now in the Book of Bill we clearly see him having issues after destroying his home dimension. Even though he tries to deny his guilt, these thoughts are torturing him, and "the ghosts of his family are haunting him still” (a code from TBOB). He even called himself a monster while talking to Ford! There's no way such an egomaniac would call himself that if he didn't realize he deserved this. After his break up with Ford, he went to the bar to get drunk and forget, but he couldn't. He said Ford was his pawn, but in fact, Bill needed Ford more than Ford needed him.

After losing his home Bill didn't find a place where he could be happy again. He gathered some interdimensional scum around him and tried to numb his pain by torturing and abusing inhabitants in other worlds. He spent trillions of years doing this, but he still didn't get what he wanted - to be needed, to be loved. And he got all of this from Ford.

Ford's sincere adoration and devotion made Bill feel something new, something so important and necessary, but also something he didn't know how to deal with. He was scared, he never thought that he was able to make such a deep connection to another person... to a _mortal_ one. His phrase "handcuffing your happiness to a mortal is like gluing yourself to a time bomb ‘till death do us part’” is the saddest thing in the whole book. Bill tried to convince himself that their breakup was the right thing because these thoughts were really unbearable for him.

But despite all of this, he tried so hard to get Ford back. He invited him twice, and the first one was right after Ford's attempt to kill him. Moreover, it was during that moment Bill was sure he became the ruler of Earth and didn't need Ford's assistance anymore, so he asked him to join just because he wanted Ford to be with him.

What he didn't understand was that Ford hated him for all the pain he caused him and his family. For Bill it was just entertainment, so he couldn't understand why Ford was so upset. But I think there's a potential opportunity for both of them if Bill finally finds courage to admit his mistakes and to improve himself. He just has to look deeper inside himself and allow his remorse, his pain and his true wishes to take place in his soul. And I'm sure if he sincerely asks for help, Ford wouldn't turn his back on him.

[skyeslittlecorner]

My friend if you take requests may I ask for a scenario where it's mean girls except the plastics are Levi and his little guys and MC is well, the MC, and Satan and Sitri are (I can't remember names rn so I'm gonna use placeholders) Janice and the other guy

If you don't take requests it's no worries

But if you do… 👀

Hi dear anon!

I'm still new to Tumblr and figuring things out as I go, that's why I haven't mentioned much about requests. But of course, I take them! I'm happy to try to bring your lovely idea to life~

Let's tone it down a little just to avoid obvious hanging. A marriage between WHB and Mean Girls is something I never expected, but I bet it will be fun. You had such a big brain with this one.

So what would happen if we agreed to "join" the boys from Hades, but at the same time make a bit of a mess as punishment for kidnapping us.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Satan is the one who would like to piss off Levi first (after you calmed down his anger, of course). Moreover, they know each other well. You can count on many tips and ideas about what a jealous king hates. How about training his monster to respond to your commands? The tentacles will be useful if you want to oppose Levi. Besides, he'll be furious. And that's what Satan loves the most.

Sitri is too calm to propose conspiracies himself. But let him see your sad face and he'll do anything for you. His knowledge will be very useful, after all, he was in Hades for some time. He will give you information on how to train a monster from another dimension and let you practice on his iron maiden so that everything will go according to plan. It's easy and quite quick if you know what you're doing. Although Sitri would prefer it if you weren't doing so well, then he could spend more time with you.

We move on to the first stage. You have to gain their trust. The best person to start with will be Glasyalabolas. You need an ally, if you come to Hades and say that you suddenly want to stay with them, they will be suspicious. But Glasya is the only one who thinks it's fun and let you do anything. Even if he sees that you want to make some trouble, he will only observe amused how his future queen causes chaos.

Step two. You've secured your position in the castle. Time to learn more about the coffins, and Barbatos will help with that. You already know a little bit from Sitri, but who knows, maybe each coffin has a different way of working? Now time to check what these creatures react to, what they don't, and whether they will accidentally eat you. Also, Barbatos have a whole beautiful rose garden in his coffin. "Could you show me?" He will be delighted. Besides, he will want to apologize for poisoning you and show that these roses are not dangerous at all, while revealing how their coffins works. His behavior is so sweet that for a moment you forgot about revenge… stay strong, a plan is a plan!

Step three and the reason why it was necessary to secure a warm place and support in the two previous devils. Foras. Of course, he's been watching you since the very beginning, but now it's time to call him out. This shy boy is no harm as long as Leviathan isn't around. Wooing him will be trivial, start telling him how much you would like to make peace with the king and do something nice for him. "What? Oh, it's a surprise, I can't tell you!" Stroke him a little on these beautiful horns and you will have access to wherever you want. Beautiful, iridescent horns… focus, focus, focus! You will hire him as your sweet little spy. He will show you where the king's room is, and every time Leviathan is near his room, you will know in advance.

And this is the finale. Leviathan's room is nicer than you thought, and his coffin is there whenever he's not using it. Taking the cover off was trivial. Summoning tentacles is even easier than you thought. After two or three days, they started to respond to your not-so-wise commands… Sitri and Barbatos must have been right, it's in your blood!

"What makes you so happy? Of course it is perfectly trained, it belongs to me."

The cold voice behind you made your blood run cold, you didn't notice when the door opened. You turned around only to see Leviathan holding Foras by the noose like a leash. He didn't hang him only because he needed silence.

"What were you going to do with it, turn it against me? I'm not an idiot."

Subconsciously you imagined the knot around your neck. Leviathan threw his subject out the door with a nod and the door closed as quietly as it opened. You were trapped.

"What will you do now?"

You did what came to your mind; just as Sitri and Barbatos showed, you waved your hand to the front. A signal for tentacles to attack. Would they listen when you tell them to attack their true master? Of course not. But they did not remain deaf to your request. They positioned themselves on either side of you, and you recognized the gesture. Just like they wanted to protect you.

You stood tall, ready… you didn't know for what, but definitely not for his barely visible, mocking smile. Leviathan cupped your chin between his index finger and thumb. Anger flared up inside you. He ruined everything. This wasn't supposed to be like this! Slender fingers moved to your neck. You wanted to strangle him, and he could see it in your eyes.

"Now that you've tamed my monster, use it."

You reached your hand out to his chest. As if on cue, one of the thick tentacles wrapped around the swan's neck. You didn't mean to punish him like this, but maybe a good strangling would also work… He fucked your plan, so now you had to fuck him.

Who are you trying to fool?

You had to fight evil, not join it. But who can blame you when the evil stand in front of you all sexy and just waiting to humiliate him.

[wroteclassicaly]

hi hello it's me :-) can we talk about steve's possessiveness mixing with maybe a liiiil bit of an exhibitionism kink where he's gotta have a hand on you at. all. times. ???? lower back, on your thigh, back of your neck with his thumb rubbing gently into your skin....... like i'm yours steve i promise ＿|￣|○

Oh, we absolutely can! Because I headcanon this 💯

Warnings: Language, touching, obvious exhibitionism kink, a lot of touching, soft Steve, vaginal fingering, bit of a love possessive Steve, & overall smutty goodness.

• Steve’s big hands and thick fingers are two of your favorite focal points, so you don’t protest when he always manages to have them on you, around you, inside of you… Doesn’t matter if it’s simply holding hands, patching wounds, tracing old scars, or the shapes, dents, and dips along one another’s bodies. Doesn’t matter that you know each other’s flesh more than your own, it’s a familiar and comforting road that you drive down everyday.

• And you? He always has to show you how much he cares, because touch is this man’s love language. Holding your hands, linking your fingers together during sex, being there to support you — hell, even giving you massages. Those often end up in you asleep, or being fucked towards a nice state of unconsciousness. Touch doesn’t always amount to a sexual state.

• If you’re in a public setting and even someone so much as smiles at you, Steve is getting that uncontrollable itch. He’s been the guy that used to stake his claim in high school, but with you? That urge to be cocky King Steve warning off different beasts from his girl — it’s stronger than ever.

• His favorite public places to take you in (many times you’ve often been caught off guard) are:

- Dressing rooms

- Library (he loves when you can’t be quiet. your pussy is always so messy, even with his hand over your mouth)

- Anywhere in the video store

- Photobooths (he’s gotten hella pictures of you when you come)

- Movie theaters (he remembers how you rode him into the seat after he fingered you and had you cumming on his tongue when Starcourt was still alive)

- Restrooms (before he graduated, he’d managed to have you in the girls and boys restroom) in any vicinity.

- Hawkins Public Pool (during adult only swim day, he cornered you in the deep end and let his fingers slip beneath your bathing suit bottom. took you underneath a beach towel, and in the locker room shower, steam room, and on the bench)

- Lovers Lake

- Amusement parks

- Nightclubs and bars (he’s cornered you into so many stalls, bent you over so many sinks. Even took you on the band’s amp backstage in the corridor) “Want you limping so they can see, honey. Think they heard what I was doing to you?”

• When the carnival is in town, Steve can’t stop his PDA. Hands in the back of your blue jean pocket, fingers skimming beneath your bangle bracelets. It works the same way on the beach. Watching all of these other people stare you down, he just wants to dig it in deeper — let them know that he’s got you, he can touch you, make you fall apart completely — not them, never them.

• At red lights he can’t help but to let his fingers skim over your thighs. When you wear skirts, especially on long drives — he goes mad.

• One of his favorite parts of you is your thighs. How he can always tap a rhythm into them, pinch and slap at the flesh, watch it rebound into his grasp. You’ll let him do whatever he wants, even that time in the alleyway after he argued with Tommy H and what he’d called you, you let Steve press you into the wall, fingers around your throat, his other hand in your underwear, fucking you on his thick digits. Didn’t matter that Tommy or Carol could see, that anyone could see.

• After the demons, the monsters, the underground dimensions, evil humans, and wars — Steve was extra good at recognizing the tension in your body and helping to release it. A hand on your back, knuckles along your spine, pinching and rolling the overworked muscles.

• In the car, out with friends — his thumbpad grazes your jugular, maps along your jawline, caresses the back of your neck and satiates your craving. He’s the only one who can.

• His hands find ways beneath your shirt — soft early mornings, especially during summer storms. To keep his hands warm if they’re cold. You warm him up, he always states. How can that be so wrong?

• He’ll pull his car into a parking lot, soft song echoing across his speakers, condensation floating around the crystal, fogging you both into a shrouded oblivion, rain rasping along the paint job, neon lights glittering around you. It’s panting breaths and wet noises, tires on asphalt. He’ll crack the window, because maybe those assholes who catcalled you will hear your crying and pleading for his fat cock? Summer rain, sex, and you… All that he’s ever gonna need…