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thatonegayship · 1 year ago

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Dear LORD, have I been holding on for this gracious fic to float into my hands, and I am slurping it up like water in the palms of a dying man. Just letting everyone know that I got to peep the earlier concept and play a bit of paper doll with OP because I am so special and cool and sometimes we brush each other's hair while swapping secrets :3 It's like I was let into a Very Exclusive Club and now I get to point at little things like "OH! OH! I KNOW THIS THING I KNOW WHAT'S HAPPENING!!!" I loved seeing your vision for this un-muddled by outside input- it's such a reward reading what makes your brain churn and do a little happy dance!!!!!! Very much a Fan of the build up, and now I must gush about it all to you because you are so important.

The way you set the scene is SOOOOO good. I was already kicking my feet at the knives and gore warning at the top, but your little sprinkles of scenery really added to the ambiance! Very much a Dark and Foreboding place poor Dipper has been born into. His parents are even worse NOW than they were in his previous life if they willingly let their baby boy just LIVE in that sort of environment! Seriously! No enrichment at all!!! Very mad, very sad, this place is bad, poor little lad :(

I love the subversion of expectations with the whole Human Sacrifice thing going on, at least at the start. It makes sense that they would value humans at least somewhat over livestock and not just go all willy-nilly slasher style on their volunteer, when all they really need is a bit of blood. I don't know why, it's the fact that Dipper was forced against his will, but ultimately didn't expect things to escalate to the extent that they did that makes that eventual payoff so nice. I was reading through it at first, and for a moment I was like ??? Why isn't he freaking out more? It's a HUMAN SACRIFICE!!! Freak out! Scream! Bite someone's ear off if you can! It didn't occur to me that Dipper might not be freaking out that hard because he didn't think it would be that *bad.* Of course, human sacrifices are hard to get people behind generally, but it's worse when your cult is already small. The "sacrifice" is more symbolic than anything. Like donating blood! Only there are no needles or sweet treats at the end and also they decide that your offering wasn't sufficient enough and now they need to de-juice you.

Being a sad, angsty girl myself, I was actually a massive fan of the whole blood letting thing, and now it has taken over my brain. You're telling me they just pulled Dipper's arm out and slashed him like that??? Ohhh mama, I am ENJOYING this. Firstly, because now Bill's gotta get all fussy over his little injury and bandage it all up and give Dipper confusing feelings since No One Has Ever Done That For Him Before. And also??? THE SCAR???? Presuming Bill doesn't just magic it all better, nothing gets my dick harder than a big, fat scar that symbolizes soooooo much pain and anguish. That was the day he almost *died.* Hear that? They were gonna hold him down and slash his other arm out of zealous frenzy and Let Him Die. I'm embellishing since we don't know for *sure,* but we do. Deep down, we do. And Isn't it just fantastic that I get to let my little brain run wild in your story and turn everything dark and sad because Dipper's just sooooo pathetic, he needs kisses to keep going? I love how you set this up more logically; I just expected them to hold him down and for the priest guy to ready his knife over Dipper's heart with some blah blah yada yada prayer about spiritual nourishment, before BOOM! Bill kicks down the door and makes out sloppy style in front of the zealous on-lookers.

NGL, had my heart pounding just before the letting. Like, of course I can't actually feel it, but I could *feel* it, you know? Amazing descriptive powers, you beamed me with the pain on full blast and I instinctively clasped my wrist out of sympathy. May whoever pushed Dipper out of line always be out of toilet paper and have severe stomach problems.

It's funny that the priest didn't actually expect any of this to work. You'd think the leader would have more faith in his own religion, but it likely started getting to his head that maybe *he* was a sort of god, too, or at least a Very Special Human. To be fair, it seems he's convinced them to go pretty dang far down the rabbit hole of craziness, and farther still to the point that they actually suggested *Bleeding Dipper More.* Okay, okay, so it's clear from earlier texts that Dipper was a clear nay-sayer throughout this whole experience, and likely asked some Not Easy questions that got the other cult members in a tizzy, so I'm assuming some of it was just plain ol' meanness and wanting to punish him more, because screw THAT guy for thinking for himself when they have a perfectly good latin book full of outdated facts and several torn out pages. I get the feeling the congregation was against him from the start, and it just so happened they saw an opportunity to make shit worse for him, because why not? They ALREADY cut his tongue out! Might as well go the full mile and ruin what little life he has left, right?

God, I am EXCITED to see Bill's reaction once he realizes Dipper's tongue is missing. Honestly, I'd love to read about Dipper actually *losing* said tongue- yes, I am an angst junky, I want to read about him screaming and fighting and sobbing and begging and fighting some more while he's being held down and the crowd sings over his screams with various verses in blissful indifference. I want him to SHAKE afterwards, and to be so freaking traumatized, mentally and physically. How long does it take him trying to speak to accept that no one understands him, and no one's listening? Do they sew his wound with a needle and thread, or cauterize it to stop the bleeding? Does he lose his appetite? Does he still feel his non existent tongue in his mouth? How long does the pain last? Does it ever truly go away? These are the important questions I offer you today.

Yes yes sorry, so Bill is blissfully unaware that his lovely husband has been properly de-tongued, and now he can't get frisky and french kiss his freaking face off, not unless he wants to feel like a worm in a bowl. To see his reaction once he realizes would be AMAZING, but I'm also looking forward to the miscommunication, because you just *know* he's gonna get suspicious real quick over Dipper's vow of silence. Huh? Can't talk at *all?* Come on! He's your sticking god, for christ's sake! He's giving a green light here! Say what you like! Have a blast! Run wild with it! Just freaking SOMETHING! Dipper is very >:( about his god openly mocking him for his tongue-less-ness, since- well, turns out this god IS real, which likely means a chunk of what he learned about him would *also* be real. So of COURSE Bill knows his tongue was cut out! It's hard to miss the first couple of weeks he spent curled in on himself, moaning with pain and aguish and shame while healing from his injuries, and the months proceeding that he had to get used to the idea of never speaking again. At the very least, he heard the snide remarks his fellow cult members made on Dipper's behalf, since this is all just Their God exacting Revenge on him for Speaking Out of Turn. Bill is so, so cruel for his little game.

Oh, but how SWEET that stab was! I actually squealed. Short, sweet, inconsequential. Bill dusts his hands off and goes on with his day, because he gives zero shits about some hack running a sub-par cult in his name, when really, the guy just had a massive ego and enjoyed ordering everybody around. Didn't even use one of Bill's artifacts! That's how you KNOW he's a poser! Talk about a let down! Bill lifts his spirits by making the cult members do the chicken dance, before giving his husband's new form a decent look! Huh! STILL cute, as all the other ones were! A bit shaken, and looking pretty pale from the blood loss, but if there isn't something in those eyes! His soul's just swimming around in em! Bill can't wait to pamper and annoy him in their new life together! I am very excited to see how it comes to pass <3

Incredible, stellar, kissing you kissing you kissing you!!! I truly enjoyed the whole thing- sorry if I missed any crucial details, I am very tired sadly and typing this moments before blacking out, so I will just say it again: LOVE IT!!!! Eating it out of your hands like a skittish, hesitant horse who, up til now, hasn't taken a liking to any of the riders on pa's farm, but for whatever reason, lets you near enough to brush my matted mane.

Here's a thing! Reincarnation of Dipper who's not in the best of situations. (A Cult)

Got some gore and knives in here so watch out!

In the room of ritual, everything is ready.

Off in that wide and majestic space, the candles are lit. The circle is drawn. The altar spread with gold and trinkets, little offerings of delight and whimsy, tomes of knowledge. Along with the remnants of the latest sacrifice, dried in long trails down the stone.

The tomes, though. If one looked closely, they would see mostly encyclopedia volumes from like, sixty years ago. Because, yeah, those are going to be so tempting for a being of infinite knowledge.

Long chanting rings through the hallways, preparing the way. The ritual is in less than an hour. In preparation for the service, the servants of their lord make themselves presentable.

Dipper adjusts his robe - too big for him, by at least one size- and pulls at the neckline. It always drags up against his throat, in a tight, uncomfortable way. He tugs it down again, glaring into the small mirror on the otherwise bare wall.

Bill Cipher is the most powerful being in the universe, and his reach is infinite and his discernment of the mind and mastery of mysteries is unquestionable, yadda yadda yadda.

Dipper just. Doesn’t know what everyone else here expects to happen. Especially with the setup unchanged from the one he saw last year. And the year before that. And the one before that.

Odds are, this ritual is going to end up the same as every other one.

Pointless.

Dipper adjusts his robes again, and smooths out the front with slow strokes. As long as this is going to happen, he might as well avoid drawing attention to himself. He’s had enough ‘attention’ for more than a lifetime.

There’s a rhythm to these ceremonies. Dipper hears the footsteps, and easily tucks the hood of his robe up, only semi-stumbling as he joins the twin lines of robed figures leading into the ritual room.

As he tucks his hands together, covering them with long sleeves - Dipper spends another moment to silently sigh.

He joins the line, ducking his head as he joins in formation. The two lines of followers shuffle on with their long robes brushing the floor. He can hear them whispering to each other; varying levels of excitement, boredom. Talking about plans for after the ritual. He thinks he picks up one of the more devout members, almost humming with anticipation.

Despite the murmurs, the sight itself could be quite impressive. An all-seeing eye, if it was real, might even appreciate it.

Still, all these dramatics are so over the top. Just as fruitless and stupid as every other prayer, or ritual. Never worked before, not gonna work now. Dipper’s not sure why they’re trying the same freakin’ thing, over and over again.

For a bunch of people obsessed with the infinite power and knowledge Cipher represents, they haven’t accrued any.

And for that matter! If Bill Cipher’s eye is truly all-seeing, why hasn’t he ever responded? His triangle is emblazoned on every wall, and on their robes. You can’t look at a surface without seeing it staring back at you, and there’s no short of devout worshipers, constantly praying and doing rites.

Dipper dares a glance at one of the long scrawls on the walls, seething slightly at the handwriting. And the grammar.

If he was watching, surely he would have spoken up by now. Even if it’s just to critique the decor, which is tacky as hell.

The main ritual room fills up with warm bodies, and Dipper stands in an inconspicuous place. Just to the left, and not quite entirely in the back. At the front of the room, he can see the priest nodding approvingly, hands tucked behind his back.

Hidden under the sleeves, Dipper clenches his hands together. Breathing out a silent prayer of his own, to nobody particular. He can stand stock-still through one or two more ridiculous rituals, if it means no more prayers to a blind idiot god.

A week. Maybe two. That’s it.

Then he’ll be out of these robes, and far, far away from here. He’ll never see these people again. He’ll never have to chant a single verse again in slightly incorrect Latin. He’ll never have to kneel, or go before that stone altar again, not even once.

The outside world is - there’s a lot of talk about it. There’s always a lot of talk, more or less colored by personal experiences and levels of permission to go ‘outside’. Dipper’s learned, now, that well over ninety percent of the gossip is lies.

If his palms still sweat at the prospect, it’s because it’s… New. Different. But it can’t possibly be worse than here, and, like. Novelty is condoned by his not-really-a-god. Trying new things should be standard doctrine - if the priest wasn’t a total idiot.

Not much longer, now.

Out there, things will be better. Out there, Dipper will have a chance at having a life.

And there won’t be any trouble, since he’ll keep his mouth shut.

“Children of Cipher!” The high-pitched voice of the priest rings tinnily through the air. “We are once again assembled!”

Dipper bows in concert with his fellows. Staring at the ground is a good way to not roll his eyes.

A chant rises up, and he keeps his lips clamped together as he mirrors the ritual bowing and scraping and general genuflection. The priest will go on and on, no matter what he does.

All it takes to get through this is time. Another round of kneeling, then standing, then kneeling, until they stand at the last word in a thronging chorus.

“Brothers!” A louder, shriller call, now that everyone has been drawn close to a fervor. For all his faults, the priest does know how to read the mood - “Tonight is a special evening!” His arms thrown up, spindly and bare as the sleeves drop near to his shoulders. “Who will bleed for our god?”

The only thing that prevents Dipper from flinching is how much attention that would draw.

He hardly dares to breathe, lest some wayward motion be taken as ‘enthusiasm.’

Dipper keeps his head bowed, as murmurs start up around him and his forehead starts to prickle with sweat.

Sacrifices happen all the time. Mostly animals. Last year they got a goat, and that was considered a pretty big one and the stew afterwards was filling, and probably tasted pretty good.

Human blood, though. That’s - They haven’t done this in years.

The susurration of voices in the background grow louder, and Dipper stays bowed in place. Of course nobody wants to volunteer; ‘willing’ isn’t easily found when it comes to getting a knife in your flesh - but someone’s going to bleed, tonight. The ‘volunteer’ bit will be justified by whatever’s convenient.

Around him there’s murmurs, a few, low arguments. Tension is starting to rise, but for the most part, he’s being overlooked.

He nearly thinks he’s gotten away with it, too, when a hard shove on his back sends him stumbling forward.

“Here, brothers!” The voice rings in Dipper’s ears as he tries to backtrack, slipping on the robes of the person in front of him and dropping painfully to the floor. “The provider!”

Shit, shit, shit.

Dipper tries to glance back at whatever asshole pushed him, but the crowd’s already grouped together into a bunch of faceless clumps, drawing back from his fall.

He levels the worst glare he can manage, even as both his arms are seized by two of his so-called ‘brothers’. The big ones.

Gritting his teeth, Dipper digs in his heels. Struggling’s ineffective, protesting’s impossible. Gesturing wildly, including a raised finger in the general direction of the asshole who pushed him, Dipper gets dragged to the foot of the altar.

“See how he offers his flesh! See how he shakes with joy!” The priest jogs his arms in the air. Dipper shakes his head rapidly holding up his hands. “His arms, already offered!”

And for a moment Dipper’s simply annoyed at how obvious it is that the whole damn ritual is a farce.

“Tonight, we call upon the god! Tonight! We-”

Whatever else he’s yelling about, Dipper doesn’t pay any mind. He’s busy trying to use the loose robes to worm his way out of the guards’ grip. It halfway works, until one of them gets him by the bare wrist and painfully pulls it out.

The cold stone hits his waist. One of his sleeves is drawn to his shoulder. His arm pinned, bare and wrist upraised, on the stone.

Damn it, if he finds out who shoved him, he’s going to - he arches up, but firm hands hold his shoulders. There’s little time to think about revenge when he’s trying to find a way out of this. Arm, stuck. Shoulders, held. The exits, totally blocked by a bunch of crowded figures.

In a way, Dipper can’t truly blame them. After all, if the current sacrifice got away, who knows?

They could be next.

The priest seems pleased, at least. He paces in front of the altar, gesticulating wildly, and rambling on about god and blood, and other nonsensical bullshit.

Great. They have their ‘sacrifice’ for tonight. So, so super ‘willing’ too, what with how he, quote ‘rushed to offer himself’, end quote.

Dipper takes a long breath, holding it for three beats. Then he lets it out.

Okay. If this follows most other ‘human sacrifices’, it should be bearable. Some bloodletting, a nasty scar. Maybe a missing finger, but he’s learned to deal with worse. Push through the moment, wait for it to be over. Soon enough, he’ll be on the other side of this entire godawful situation.

Focusing on the transitory nature of pain helps him steady his breathing. And more importantly, slow his heart rate.

Calming meditation. He can work on that. Though it’s difficult, with the way the priest keeps going on and on about an ‘auspicious night’. Also, the very large, curved, very sharp-looking knife.

Dipper tries his best not to stare at it. Or to linger too much on the thought of knives and flesh and blood. If he could stop thinking, for once in his stupid life, it’ll be over before he knows it.

That’s totally not not the usual knife, though. He wonders where the hell it came from.

Last time, it was some basic utilitarian repurposed chef-thing, with a crudely engraved triangle on the hilt and the blade. This one’s much more… Ceremonial. Sharper, too, with a wicked curve and a gleaming edge, and covered in runes that Dipper’s never seen before.

He mouths a swear as one guard uncurls his fingers from the edge of the altar, turning his wrist back upright. The priest waves the very, very sharp blade around, yelling something that Dipper doesn’t bother parsing, even as his mind races. He can tell it’s definitely not Cipher runes on that thing, and not the old Latin their god prefers. Did someone go outside to find this? Another random artifact that the priest got his hands on? Seems like he’s always picking up useless semi-magic items.

The knife doesn’t feel ‘useless’, though, even from a glance. It radiates a pure and terrifying purpose.

Especially as it comes down, and rests against his wrist. Almost gently, its point bites a drop of blood from his skin.

The fetid breath of the priest pants over the altar. Dipper turns away, neck twisting as far as he can manage, eyes shut.

Please let this be just a bit. Just a drop. A small, tentative cut to fill a bit of the channels on the stone. There’s a sting to the metal, a slight burn, and though Dipper’s not one of the main Holders of Mysteries or anything, he feels like that’s a very bad sign.

Then he feels. Cold.

It runs down his inner arm, lingering for an instant before blossoming into sharp, bright pain. He nearly chokes on air, cringing into a hunched position as he feels the knife slide.

The catching drag of the old knife would have been painful, but that was mostly used for taking a finger, or maybe dragging across the back of the arm, in a more decorative than productive way of drawing blood.

The ease with which this knife cuts sends a deep, swirling nausea straight to the pit of his stomach.

“Behold, the flow! The magic gathers, my children!” THe priest’s voice warbles a bit as “With this tool, with this magic, our god will hear our call! He will behold our devotion, and raise us to glory! He will answer-” More and more words, variations on encouragement. Zero substance, all hype. A fanatical motivation speaker, Dipper thinks, half-hysterically.

Vapid or not, the result is effective. The sight of blood has certainly spurred everyone into a kind of frenzy, whether from fear or fervor, Dipper doesn’t care.

And they’re certainly getting a lot of blood. More than required.

Dipper struggles up against the hold, but it’s pointless. He ‘s stuck there for a few long minutes, oozing out for an audience that can’t even see half the damn thing, and it hurts.

The red trail gathers, slowly pooling down and into the engraven triangle. Enough to fill the shallow channels easily, which, uh. Dipper’s never seen before. With the other sacrifices it kind of stopped and clotted, but this moves like it’s being wicked along the surface.

He makes a face as his blood slowly travels through the lines, but can’t see any surface changes, or feel anything that might have been put on the stone.

Until it connects at the top point. Then it meets, completing the image of Bill with a strange, too-bubbly ‘blorp’.

Okay. Weird. But that’s plenty, right? Ritual done, blood offered, and now, he should get going.

Lurching upward gets the grip to loosen up on his arms, as the guards loosen their grip a bit. They already have what they need, and hell. Dippers deserves a friggin’ break. With the immediate attention off him, he can dare a glance at his arm -

And instantly averts his gaze to absolutely anything else.

The priest turns around, arms raised. Pumping them in the air, knife glinting in the candlelight. “Yes. Yes!” He swings the blade around, nearly catching one of the big brothers in the side. “See how easily the liquid flows. The power builds! I can feel it - the summoning, in this room tonight!”

The crowd calls out their enthusiasm, a high rising ‘oooh’ noise.

Dipper sighs, and tries to scoot back away from the altar. It’s done, at least; he’ll just have to cope with the aftermath. Could be worse.

“The other arm, brothers!” A loud, clarion call. Dipper whips his head around, as the priest lowers his arms - and turns back around. Pointing at Dipper. Again. “I feel the blade crave more!”

Uh, hello? What?

Dipper glances up at the knife. At how the slight sheen of blood has dipped into some of the runes, the faint glow - and goes ‘huh’.

Alright, he’ll admit. It’s definitely magical.

But he’s beginning to suspect it has less to do with Bill, and a lot more to do with other forces. Ones that might, say, make a ritual flow smoothly. Or make a fanatical asshole even more bloodthirsty.

Behind him, he almost feels the guards shrug, right before he gets shoved against the altar again. One of the assholes even dares to pat his side, in a brief bit of unexpected sympathy. Not that it means anything.

Dipper longs to curse them out, to scream at every single one of these absolute jackasses. Every one of them is just watching this happen. Nobody thinks about what happens next, ever, including -

He grits his teeth instead, hard enough that he thinks something might crack.

Everyone follows orders. The words of their supposed ‘god’, filtered through a man who’s fallible and frail and frankly fucking stupid. Always getting stupid magical trinkets. Always trying to find a link to that demonic god, constantly pursuing magic, and power, and influence. No matter the cost.

Why would he care if one of the too-few worshipers pays the price?

And fuck that.

Before, Dipper struggled as much as he could. Partly from fear, sure. But mostly to make a point. That this was stupid and painful, and wasn’t going to do anything anyway. Knowing that with enough kicking and protest, he might get them to cut things short.

Now, seeing the priest whip the blade back around, raising overhead with both hands - he fights.

A solid kick lands in the left guard’s groin, and he gets his wounded arm back. Dipper clutches it to his chest, but the other’s still pinned and being twisted, now. Another kick gets something softer, and he hears a huff from the priest. Then a loud, angry order to ‘Hold him down!’.

Dipper’s shoved into the stone, stomach digging into the edge of the altar hard enough to make him gag. His head hits the surface, more dizzying than painful. There's a hand gripped in his hair. Then his other sleeve is drawn up, his healthy arm extended over the table. Bare skin exposed, lying over the bloody surface.

He breathes heavily, nose nearly against the altar. It quickly grows hot from his breath, and moist, too, which is probably why his face feels wet. He doesn’t hear anything but his own harsh panting.

He never wanted to be a part of this, he never wanted to grow up like this. In a week or so, he was going to get out, and now he’s going to get hurt again, so soon, and he only has so much blood in him. He doesn’t want to die. He shuts his eyes, tucking up against himself. Hoping the weight of his body will drag his arm away where his own strength couldn’t, choking back a tightness in his throat. He was nearly out. He was nearly safe.

He was almost free.

He breathes harder, shutting his eyes tight. He presses his forehead against the runes, and the blood, and just wishes he wasn’t here.

Metal clangs on the floor, ringing bright as a bell.

There’s a sudden intake of breath. Dipper feels the hands release him, a shocked sound. Then the ‘flump’ of a lot of draped fabric, all at once.

Dipper keeps his face against the stone, breathing slower. That’s. That’s not how any ritual goes.

He can’t waste the opportunity, though. Now that his arms are free, Dipper pulls his sleeve back up, bundling it around the cut. Shit. Does he clench his fist or leave his grip loose? Which one slows blood flow.

Whatever interrupted this isn’t going to last. He’s only got a few seconds before everyone comes back to whatever passes for their senses, and tries to ‘complete the summoning’, or whatever the hell they were after.

Gotta act. Gotta - Dipper wheels around, panting for breath.

In front of the altar, all the robed figures in the room have fallen to their knees. The priest’s dropped the knife. Dipper scoots it a little closer to himself with a foot, watching as the zealot raises his arms in devout praise.

Dipper pauses. Still clenching tight on his wrist, though his sleeve is starting to feel damp. Things don’t just stop like that. The ritual has to continue. People should be surging up to keep the momentum, but the entire room is -

Oh.

Yeah, now he sees it.

All the candles were lit before. They give a little light to a room that’s never seen electronics in its life, dim as it is.

Right now, they’re bursting with flame, rising high enough to cast weird shadows over the cavern -

And it’s a very bright blue.

Shit.

Dipper whirls around, unsteady on his feet. Staring at a long, long trail of rising blood. Almost a string, or a reverse droplet, floating up from the triangle carved on the stone. In midair it spreads into a thin web, shapeless and vaguely pulsing.

Okay. That is definitely magical. And absolutely up to no good.

He fumbles around - where did he kick the knife? Maybe if he breaks it, it’ll interrupt this whole thing. Who knows what the hell that idiot priest did, or where he got the artifact, or what it does.

Dipper doesn’t know much about gods, or spirits, or demons, but anything that gets pulled in by a blood sacrifice can’t be a good sign. He spots the damn thing near the opposite corner, and braces himself on the altar. It he’s careful, he can reach it without alerting anyone. Maybe.

Which is when the entire hall fills with bright, loud laughter.

“Well, well, well, well, well!” The voice rings just as brightly as the laugh. Dipper jerks towards the sound, involuntarily, only to see a single eye open inside the breath web of blood. “What do we have here?”

There’s a resounding groan from the crowd. Various people start chanting, but they’re all using different verses, and the priest starts his own, presumably improvised, wail of praise and devotion. The end result is an ear-rattling clamor.

Dipper looks back at the altar. Watching the blood twist in this way, and that. The eye alights on him for a moment - he freezes - but it moves on from him quickly, examining the room.

There’s a lot to see, too. Maybe terrified, devout worshipers isn’t weird for a supernatural entity, but it’s thoroughly freaking Dipper out. Even the priest is on his knees.

“Boy, it’s been a while since I’ve had this kinda summon!” The net stretches, almost elastic; twisting into limblike shapes, and fractal forms. The slit-pupiled eye rolls back and forth. Then it blinks twice. “Might as well get dressed for the occasion! Hold on a sec.”

The eye shuts into nothingness. Moments later, the blood starts getting really active, pulsing faster, twisting into shapes like it’s alive.

Dipper spares a terrified check on his wrist, but. No, he’s not feeding it, or anything. This is something else. Someone else, taking the material and lending it power enough to grow.

Even as he watches, there’s a spreading arch of bone and the twist of veins. A fairly glorpy assortment of something between and below what looks like ribs, a strange thick blackness tinged with yellow…

He cringes back, and shuts his eyes. Shit, watching this is deeply unsettling.

Not that it’s gory, per se - that would imply that something’s being taken apart, when it shouldn’t be. This is something being put together, a way that it shouldn’t ever be.

He backs up a step from the writhing mass, getting more fleshy by the instant. Then grimaces, teetering in place. Blood loss, right. From the asshole who started this whole thing. He levels a glare at said asshole -

But. Beside him, the priest is quivering with tension. Trembling like he didn’t expect this to happen.

Frankly? Neither did Dipper. For all the times they’ve done a ritual, there’s never been a reaction like this.

This insane mass, forming insanely out of nothing. Or well, from blood, that spread out in a weird three-dimensional - triangle, oh shit -

He should have known. Should have noticed. This was a summon, and while the object used wasn’t for the right being, maybe that doesn't’ matter with so much gathered intent.

This is….

Dipper falls, awkwardly, to his knees. Then ducks down in as low a bow as he can manage, pulling the hood of his robe back over his head.

Part of him thought Bill didn’t exist, or at least not in the way these guys talked about him. Maybe they’d latched onto some other spirit or deity, and completely misinterpreted everything. Maybe they’d made it all up, including some of the really old texts. There was never any evidence that their lord and master was real.

But given what’s happening here…

Like hell is he gonna look like the only person who doesn’t.

Something - two things - go ‘clack’ on the altar. A few series of taps.

Then a long, pleased sigh, and the sound of soft movement, like cloth.

Dipper keeps looking down. The hood keeps him anonymous, another faceless shape in the crowd. Just one more figure genuflecting before his -

Before a god.

One that might not even deserve a capital letter on the word, perhaps, but still an entity that he should not, under any circumstances, piss off.

There’s a tap that sounds like a shoe, and a low hum. Something lands beside him with a thud. In the brief moment that he raises his head, Dipper catches sight of black loafers, and long fingers on an oddly human-looking hand.

He quickly lowers himself more towards the floor, holding his arm tight.

Yep, just one more super-devoted believer, same as all the others. Super not important enough to notice.

“You know, blood’s usually for blood gods!” Bill Cipher’s voice rings through the room. It’s higher than Dipper expected it to be. One of the fancy-looking black shoes kicks the knife up into the air, where it’s caught by the long fingers of that hand. “Pretty wild for you guys to pull this. With another guy’s artifact, of all things!” A chiding tut, and the knife twirls. “And pretty disrespectful, I gotta say.”

“My lord.” The priest’s voice is dry, even for a guy who already sounded half-dessicated. He rises to his knees, hands clasped together. “We meant no disrespect. We are here to serve you, master. As we always have.”

“Uh huh,” Bill says. In Dipper’s limited sight, he toys idly with the knife, pressing the tip against the finger of an opposite hand. A bead of something dark wells up, and he rubs his fingers together.

The priest recites several lines of a chant, making a triangle with his fingers. So eager, and so totally missing the disinterest in Bill’s tone- “We have always been searching for you, our worship unending! You honor us with your presence. You shine upon us your infinite glory!”

“Sure you have,” Bill says, sounding, if anything, bored. The blade in his hand flips around between his fingers, then back again. The motion reminds Dipper of a very deadly fidget spinner. “Do tell.”

Which is when the priest surges up, nearly grabbing onto Bill’s thigh. He’s only stopped by a rapid sidestep.

Dipper cringes back out of secondhand embarrassment. Bad move. Dumb move. ‘Devoted’ or not, Bill was bored already - and infinite beings of pure energy do not like being manhandled by mortals.

“Let us use this connection, and the blade! Let us complete the sacrifice.” The priest continues, undeterred. Shuffling closer on his knees, he spreads his arms wide, inviting and eager. “The blood could grant you all your power, that you might grant us-”

“Pass.” Bill says dismissively. The knife flashes, and there’s a wet, solid ‘thunk’.

Dipper catches a brief glimpse of the priest’s face - stuck in shock, pale and lined with age - just before his body falls to the floor, as limp as a ragdoll. The knife handle in his chest props him up at a weird angle, before a swift kick from a black shoe sends it tumbling down the short three steps of the dais.

Dipper cringes into a smaller ball, trying to scrunch himself into invisibility. He watches Bill pass in front of him, standing in front of the crowd. The hand rests on a hip, while the other is raised out of site. Still far, far too close.

On the one hand, Bill’s examining the congregation. Distracted, for a moment. Staying out of his attention is so, so great.

Dipper curls up in a much, much tighter ball despite that.

In every single one of his plans to get out of here, Bill Cipher existing wasn’t a factor. Much less his actual, physical presence. All he’d ever thought about was how this was bullshit, that the people he knew were awful - and how hopefully, nobody would notice if he left. Now the ‘god’ himself is here. Standing so near Dipper he could, if he wanted, stupidly touch the hem of his pants.

A distant, insane part of him chimes in with the stupid idea that it’s nothing to really worry about.

Like, compared to how he’s still losing blood, for example.

Right. Staunch first, panic later.

Dipper wraps his sleeve around his arm, as subtly as he can, teeth gritted. His first priority is to stop bleeding. No escape plan - or any plan for that matter - is going to be useful if he dies.

The immensely powerful nightmare god is also a problem, obviously. But in this moment he’s not the immediate threat.

“Hmmm.” Bill lets out a low, contemplative hum. It resonates in the room, with how deathly silent things have become. “Let’s see here…”

After a pause, he snaps his fingers. “Stand!”

The entire congregation leaps to their feet. One of them stumbles and gets a swift kick in the side.

“Sit!” Bill commands. Everyone drops to the floor. A low chuckle, then, “Turn around three times and bark like a dog!”

Oh, now that won’t -

Or maybe it will. Dipper cringes, back pressed against the altar. Don’t just comply, what the hell. Sure it’s a magical god-being, but - fuck. He watches the scene with a grimace.

Bill, though, seems to be having a great time. He’s bouncing in place, voice bright with enthusiasm. “Do a little dance! Twist yourself until your joints snap! Hell, start a fight with the guy next to you!”

There’s havoc in the room of ritual. Robed figures practically fall all over themselves, and Dipper notes with a nauseating turn that some of them have drawn knives of their own. Chaos reigns; an entire scramble to do each possible thing, all at once.

And Bill’s laughter rings out over everything, clapping his hands in delight.

Dipper’s trapped in this room with an insane madman, leading a horde of equally insane idiots, and he doesn’t have a way out. He hopes he’ll stay out of notice. He hopes that he’ll live through the next five minutes.

There’s no controlling the situation, but he can improve his odds.

The altar’s pretty close, and Bill’s turned away, for the moment. Dipper scoots back, inching himself towards the corner. With enough shuffling, he might be able to move behind it and get out of sight.

“Welp,” Bill claps his hands again, this time with finality. Some of the chaos stills. “You’re all annoying, boring little vermin, but maybe you guys could improve. I noticed the blood you used to summon me was real choice stuff!” The exaggerated sound of a kiss. “Very nice.”

Dipper feels sweat building up in his robes, and tries to be very still. Basically part of the ritual scenery. Anonymous furniture, at best.

“In fact. It was so nice.” The voice continues, at a lower tone. Almost a purr. There’s a clack of shoes on stone. “Let’s see who this little treat is!”

The god seizes Dipper’s wrist - the wounded one, sending a bolt of pain down his arm - and clamps his palm around it, incredibly tight.

Before he knows it, Dipper’s standing again, involuntarily, staring past his hood into a bright, glowing eye.

He’s meeting his god. He’s been noticed by Bill Cipher.

So far he’s not trembling, so. That’s one thing he has going for him.

Bill’s eye flicks down, then up again, almost thoughtful. Any question about his power is quickly tossed aside, because holy shit; the magic is nearly palpable, thrumming into Dipper’s skin and making his heart race.

He’s also sporting a bright, wide grin, in a face that makes Dipper do a double-take.

Like. He thought - he glances at the triangle on the back of the wall, then to the person in front of him.

Okay, it’s said that Bill Cipher can take any form he wants, human included, but, like. What?

Thankfully, Bill doesn’t seem to notice any of the insane, stupid things Dipper is thinking. All he does is raise his hand, and with one quick motion, sweep the hood off of Dipper’s head.

Dipper flinches back. Jaw clenched, eye shut.

Shit, shit, shit. Special attention. All the scenarios he can think of say ‘not good’. Best case scenario, it’s because Bill wants to thank him, for... Whatever his blood did. The rest of them involve increasingly terrifying ideas about what ‘nice blood’ means, and how much of it Bill might want. All of it, say. Maybe immediately.

Dipper can’t pull away, not with such a strong hold on his arm. Fighting is downright dumb. Trembling’s happening, despite his best efforts, and the intrusive thought bubbles up that, hey, at least there’s lots of pressure on his wound. Could be worse.

Nothing happens. For several seconds.

Eventually, Dipper peeks an eye open.

There’s Bill Cipher, looking back at him. His eye is literally lit up, the pleased grin wide on his face.

Dipper waits for an order, but the god doesn’t speak. He just wiggles his eyebrows. If anything, he looks oddly… expectant?

Fuck. Dipper has to do something.

What the hell, there isn’t any doctrine for this.

Sure, he knows all of the catechism, and each chant he was taught. He’s got an encyclopedic memory of everything he was taught about this powerful interdimensional god-being, he knows every ritual back and forth. The tenets spring to mind, unbidden: Be obedient, speak his words, serve him in all ways - and most of all, don’t think.

But Dipper can’t chant. He hasn’t been told to do anything yet. And though it’d be a death sentence, if serving involves more bleeding he’d be tempted to kick again. Hell, he literally just watched everyone else trying the other bits. They did exactly what they were supposed to, and that was ‘boring’.

He never could stop thinking, though.

Now, his mind is racing.

A little-known and never-preached fact about Bill Cipher is that he doesn’t, actually, like rules all that much -

So.

Dipper offers a hesitant, closed-mouth smile. He wiggles the fingers of his free hand, a bit awkwardly, in greeting.

Then ducks his head again, wishing he still had a hood to cover his face.

That didn’t make it weird, right? That’s a normal, devout thing to do. Coming from a totally religious guy, who’s only slightly damp from all the sweating.

“Oh.” Bill’s voice lowers to something like a purr. He tucks a knuckle under Dipper’s chin, lifting him to meet his single eye again. An eye that’s glowing now, bright gold and half-lidded. “Ten outta ten on the offering, guys. Very cute.”

Which is a little weird, but probably -

“Y’know what?” And Bill’s grin widens, bright and wild, as his thumb strokes Dipper’s chin. “I like this one.”

Uh oh.

Dipper tries sinking down into his oversized robes, but Bill just fishes around inside them until he can pull Dipper up again by his undershirt.

“In fact,” Bill declares, sounding proud. He pulls Dipper in closer, hand still clamped painfully tight on his wounded wrist. “I’m gonna keep him.”

What?

Immediately after that declaration, Dipper’s tugged in close, thumping against his side. Bill turns to start barking orders at the congregation, a sneer in his voice and a

Dipper can’t quite parse it. He’s still running over the words in his head.

In the ritual room, the candles flare even higher, temperature rising to an uncomfortable degree. Dipper watches two worshipers collide with each other in their frantic obedience, and can’t even laugh about it.

‘Keep’, Bill said.

What does that mean? Everything here is already ‘Bill’s’, in a way. But the way he said it sounded… oddly specific.

A hopeful part of Dipper chimes in that it might just mean ‘not let him bleed out’, but he’s never been that lucky before, and there’s no reason it would start now.

With everything else going on. With the presence of a god. e.

The cultists are bustling about; a few of them deposit things near Bill’s feet, like gifts upon the altar. Boxes, totems, more lit candles that Bill idly kicks over onto one of their robes, watching them flail at the sudden burst of fire.

Eventually, Bill considered the task ‘done’, or close enough. He sighs, shaking his head. “About time, guys! Talk about slow. Hard to get good followers these days.”

Bill clicks his tongue in distaste, then snaps his fingers.

Dipper hears a weird ‘zmmm’ sound to his left. He notices that Bill’s suit is really soft material, and also that he probably shouldn’t be grabbing it like this.

He doesn’t dare look at the sound. Not when Bill’s turned towards him with smug pride, like he’s pulled off a plan without a hitch.

“Man, it's only been fifteen minutes, and I’ve had it with these losers.” Bill gives the congregation a look of disgust, then turns back to Dipper. That grin reemerges like the sunrise. “Screw these guys, am I right?”

This time, Dipper’s smile is involuntary. He quashes it fast, but not before Bill notices.

“That’s what I thought.” Bill says, with deep pleasure. He takes a step closer to the altar, pulling Dipper along with a surprising lack of force. “So! What’d’ya say we ditch this joint?”

Dipper doesn’t know what that means. He doesn’t know what’s been happening, either, other than it’s all been going way too fast.

But Bill Cipher is looking at him, still. Present, powerful. Eager for a response.

Dipper just shrugs.

He wouldn’t know what to say even if he still had his tongue.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Bill says, eminently pleased. Pulling Dipper in closer, with an arm suddenly around his waist. “Hold on tight! It ain’t a bumpy ride, but it’s a weird one.”

Dipper follows as he walks. Partly on automatic, and partly because what the hell else is he supposed to do?

About three steps in, he realizes they’re both walking on thin air, towards and over the altar.

He jerks his head over, blinking at the source of that ‘zmm’ sound.

Because of course summoning am interdimensional god-being would leave a remnant. He had to come from somewhere.

Like, say, a weird red-yellow gap in space, with nonsense things flung around in a black and bizarre starscape. Dipper catches a glimpse of something with two many limbs, and of a series of screaming mouths with no bodies, and a duck and a grandfather clock, tumbling through the air.

It’s almost like it might be a nightmare dimension. Who could have thought.

With nothing else to cling to, his free hand clamps Bill’s shoulder, tight.

“You’re my guest for the next while, sapling.” Bill says, squeezing him tight in return as he steps in - and drags Dipper alongside him, stalking into the portal. “Glad to have you!”

#Love these crazed zealots too honestly #'The blade craves more!!!'#(Me in highschool)#Okay but unironically I am SO pumped for the follow up on this it is eating my brain like a virus #Sorry don't have anything fun to say too busy gushing over every line and phrase and the atmosphere #THE ATMOSPHERE!!!#Okay goodbye forever now :3

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gogolstoelicker · 3 years ago

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(OC's world)Ghost Town random canon things :

there's no law whatsoever (no matter how awful that sounds)

their king was called Akuma, who stepped down from his position and gave them this freedom

They were all from the underworld

there's little to no human around (duh)

if you want to be a noble, then that would have to be judged when they still live in the underworld (since the king would usually pick who's worthy to have such a title)

their town does not appear on the map as God's punishment

that's how they got their town's name from

Dorothy(puppeteer):

she's a noble

she keeps everyone in line most of the time

she may be a human but she's stronger than majority of the people there(mostly bcs of her unique ability)

since she can create dolls and give them a life of their own, she have her very own army in case anyone tries anything unpleasant

kind of adopted kyo as her own child

have to keep everyone in line, esp Achlys and Lovis

while she does not hate them, she hoped they will tone down the problems they're causing

i mean, they're causing more problems than all of the townspeople! and there's only two of them!

if she's not keeping them in line, then she's actually really sweet

shes charming and always have a way with her words that would always make people swoon

Achlys(vampire):

also a noble

she hates humans but earns a big respect for dorothy

she likes to antagonize kyo so much bc they dont have emotions

got in trouble with dorothy a lot bcs of that

partner in crime with Lovis💪

when she's not antagonizing the town with Lovis, she'll turn into a bat and watch them from above to make sure nothing serious is happening

she may always play pranks and steal smth for shits and giggles but that doesn't mean she doesn't know when to be serious

she can and will beat some sense into someone if she have to

cheers Lovis up whenever he beats someone up but stepped in if it gets too serious

yelled at herself in the mirror for falling for a human once before getting over it and just accepted it

problem, she likes the former king, Akuma's lover

even tho akuma had long stepped down from his position, she still fears and respect him (everyone does)

carries Lovis around for fun

Lovis(clown):

also hates human with a burning passion but learns to respect dorothy (the hard way may i add)

kind of scared of dorothy

there's probably a wanted poster of him and Achlys for antagonizing Kyo so much

also got into trouble with dorothy a lot

partner in crime with Achlys💪

he have quite the ill temper

look at him wrong? he beat them up. talk bad abt him? he beat them up. breathe a little too hard around him? he. beat. them. up.

also cheers Achlys up whenever and never stepped in just bcs he thinks its funny

he still have some morals dont worry‼️will beat people up if they wronged someone‼️

walked in on Achlys yelling at herself in the mirror once

he now knocks the door before entering her house

this is a secret but he have a soft spot for kids and does tricks for them, esp if they're having a bad day

he's not called a clown for nothing‼️

he kind if avoided circuses bcs he have some bad memories there

Kyo(zombie):

they're agender

as a zombie, they wont feel any emotions no matter what

well maybe if god suddenly said "take this /emotions/" then they might

but since that won't ever happen, then that's that

suprised they're even lowkey frustrated of achlys's and lovis's pranks to fish reactions out of them

really thankful of dorothy

doesn't really know what to do with life since they have no interest in anything but tried to fit in

like, they kept a garden bcs he saw someone do so

and then dorothy brought up the idea for them to become a florist since they're really good at taking care of flowers

guess whos the owner of a flower shop now⁉️

Random Townspeople:

whenever they saw Achlys and Lovis together, they silently prayed to nobody that it won't be them this time

they then saw their almighty Lady Dorothy on her way to beat them(Achlys and Lovis) up and starts worshipping the ground she walks on

Everyone knows Kyo and knows not to mess with them unless they want a group of dolls to go after them or maybe even Dorothy herself

sometimes when there's an unwelcomed guest, the shadows scared them away

or covered the whole town that gives the message to the unwelcomed guest to go away

speaking of shadows, you can see them in the alleyways‼️

they're usually shy tho so

they can take any form since they'rea literal shadow but preferred to take in the form of a human or animal

yes there are many more other monsters and dark and evil creatures around

im just too lazy to list them out

and bcs im not creative enough

#my oc stuff #ocs #oc #my ocs are traumatized lmfao #idk what else to tag so #idk what im doing #i wanna say more but im running out of brain juice #someone donate brain juice

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spadeslittlesecret · 3 years ago

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Gojo as your CEO boyfriend

CW: pussy play, body worship, creampie

A/N: Gojo headcanon timee!! Ya’ll, i have no idea about Gojo but i know ya’ll simp for him so… here we go with my brain trying to brain storm something logical and something fitting for him smh. I had to have my friends approval abt it 🧎‍♀️

• Gojo is rich like i mean rich rich, especially when he is CEO

• He wouldn’t be the type to wear fancy outfit because he would rather wear something comfy with you, unless… you go out to a fancy restaurant with him (yeahh go get it gurly)

• He’s really humble about his wealth but everyone knows that he has a wallet and a bank account filled with money for you🤩

• He wouldn’t flaunt about his money, he would rather flaunt about you and how pretty and how sexy his girlfriend is

• Like in the middle of meetings this man would be like “I’m sorry but the love of my life needs me to be home at this instant” and his coworkers would sit there and say “there he goes again..”

• Don’t get me wrong, you being the love of his life love getting the attention. This is exactly what you wanted, a life with a rich boyfriend who will provide you with anything you want

• Dates with him would involve tons of shopping together, watching movies, fancy dinners and gifts are a must for him to give to you.

• But sometimes he would be a little too obsessive about buying you things so you do have to stop him from buying too many things.

• “Bub, this is too much, what am i gonna do with these dresses” he literaly bought you 10 fancy dresses.

• “I wanna see em all on you, pleasee just once! And i’ll stop i promise” and so there he goes with his stupid puppy doe eyes (ps : he never stopped buying things)

• The aftermath would be you donating things away to family and friends (withouth gojo knowing obv, bcs gojo would be sad to see your dress that he gave to you on someone else🫂)

• Gojo would also be so pushy about givingg you gifts and he is so stubborn (Stupid bitch got us all this stuff and now we can’t refuse it)

!BONUS Nsfw content!

•Gojo would do kitten licks to your clit or cunt and over stimulate you by just his teasing

•“J-just fuck m-me already Gojo!” You’d be panting and moaning like a dog in heat while he watches you from down there doing magic to your pussy

•“I can’t just give you it yet baby, gonna make this pussy wet first” (This man literally gotta fucking tease us like that while we twitch and moan from overstim. What a minx🙄)

• Being the CEO he is, he could call for absent all he pleases. Which means he can stay at home with you or… fuck you till morning and call his assistent that he is fucking you till you can’t walk (bitch this man gotta fucking tell the assistent that😳 oh hell nawh)

• OR Or he would also say to his assistent that his sick but thats just an excuse for him to say because he is truly and actually fucking you to the core

•oh he ain’t no quite man he would be saying things so dirty that you could cum at any moment “this pussy is so sloppy gonna make me cum”

• HE WILL i will repeat, HE WILL MAKE YOU CUM ON HIS FACE MULTIPLE TIMES

• AND And! He would be eating your pussy until its clean (like fr fr he would finish ur juices until ur dry again💦🧎‍♀️ he would do it all over again anyways)

• he loves your body so much, doesn’t care if you have insecurities he just loves you the way you are

#gojo saturo #gojo x reader #jjk x you #jjkimagines #jjk smut #jjk #jjk gojo #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu sorcerer #gojo sensei #gojo headcanons #gojou satoru x reader #gojo imagine #gojo fluff #gojo jjk #jjk x reader

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felswritingfire · 3 years ago

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That april brain rot with the three in one brain cell hit me with all the emotions. Would you be willing to write a continuation with the boys getting revenge for the reader?? I am out for some blood 😾😾😾😾

I... I may have gone off the deep end with this lmao.

But, Ace, Deuce, Grim, and everyone else in Heartlabyul have a tad bit of Yandere tendency, hope you don't mind jslkdfjldkf

The first part if anyone's curious!

TW: Yandere tendencies; descriptions of violence; Cussing; Possessiveness; Threats

It wasn't easy finding him- the bastard who did this. Ace had to do some fine digging to find out where he ran off to and even then he needed Cater's help (who didn't mind one bit, he was almost too eager) to find him hiding in the Dwarves house that the four of you officially became friends at.

Ace scowls at this realization, watching as the student cowered and squirmed under Deuce's shoe. "Oi, Juice-"

"What?" It probably came out a lot harder than Deuce was intending, but Ace really didn't mind, he understood the feeling.

It took a moment for Ace to continue, his sharp eyes taking in the way the boy whimpered in pain as Deuce dug his heel deeper into his spine. "Don't beat him up here-" he gestured around, waiting as green-blue eyes took in the familiar cob webs and worn wood- "got too many good memories and all that mushy stuff, you know?"

Duece nodded, his gaze dull as it focused back on the boy. "Yeah. But where are we gonna go?"

They stood there mulling over their limited options before they heard a snicker. Turning to Grim who floated behind them, Ace raised an eyebrow. "What? You got an idea, Raccoon?"

"Of course the Great Grim has an idea!" Grim kept snickering as his hind feet touched the ground, walking over to the trembling figure on the floor. His pupils where almost pin pricks as he stared down at him. "Why not take him to the cave?"

"C- cave?" The boy trembled, a bit of red dribbling from his split lip from where Deuce had socked him.

Ace let out a laugh- something mean and ugly. "We could! Just tie him up and wait for that thing to come and rip him to shreds right?"

Deuce hummed. "But Riddle told us not to do anything too nasty."

Ace slung an arm over his friend's shoulder, red eyes leering down at the round eyes of the boy. "He also said nothing that could be our fault- and, how would it be our fault if goldilocks here pulled some stupid shit and decided to fuck with some sort of monster, hm?"

Deuce's eyebrows twitched. His grin turned wicked as he nodded, "yeah, some dumbass thinking they're all that and getting screwed over... it'd be a pretty likely story."

Grim nodded, floating just above the above the boy's terrified face. "And we wouldn't even have to try!"

"W-why?" The student suddenly cried out. Ace couldn't help but stare down at him, the air suddenly getting tense. "Why are you all doing this?"

"What? Are you stupid?" Grim hissed, suddenly scratching the student's eye making him yelp. "You hurt my henchman, there's no other reason!"

"Hench-" he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut tight- "you mean (Y/N)?"

"'You mean (Y/N)?'- who else are we talking about, idiot?"

"Who else did you hurt as badly as them, huh?" Deuce leaned down, grabbing a fistful of the boy's hair, yanking him back hard. The boy winced.

"They- they-" he licked his lips, wheezing for air- "they said no! They should have said yes, it would have been so much easier! We- we're meant to be-" his shaking words bleed into a sudden groan as the fist holding his blond strands tightened to the point that Deuce's leather gloves groaned in protest.

Ace threw his head back laughing, "meant to be? Bull- fucking- shit! You don't know anything about them!" The boy opened his mouth to say something when the side of a polished shoe ended up slamming into his teeth. "You wanna know who does know them? Us. We pretty much now everything about them. If they belonged-" he snorted- "together with anyone, it'd be fucking us."

He reveled at the rage that flashed in those blue eyes, the sheer audacity this idiot had thinking he was something important to you made another snort leave Ace's throat.

Deuce growled, his lips curling. "What're you so pissed about? Is it because Ace is right? That they barely knew your name and then rejected you? What'd you expect?" Deuce suddenly slammed their head down against the rotting floor board and the boy let out a pained shout, Grim giggling in the background. "You expect them to run into your arms? Huh? Dumbass!" He reared his head back and slammed it back down again. There was a worrisome crack, but none of them seemed to care.

"We..." The student whimpered. "We were meant to be something... They would have learned to love me. They would have..."

Grim let out another hiss, blue flames flicking out of the corners of his mouth. "They would have nothin'! My henchman is my henchman! You can't have them! I'll burn you to a crisp if I have to!"

"Don't burn him alive, idiot raccoon." Ace said, grabbing the cat by the back of the scruff. "Remember, we let the monster have it's way with him, remember?"

"Monster?" The familiar voice made the group jump. Ace turned to see Riddle, Trey, and Cater standing in the dilapidated doorway. Riddle's eyebrows raised as he took a step towards them. "There're monsters here?"

"Yeah!" Grim said, a little too happy, "Big and scary! It has a pickaxe!"

"And you're thinking about... giving this one to it?"

"Why not?" Ace shrugged, his eyes shining with a sadistic malice as his gaze floated between the student (who was barely moving now, he figured that he might have been knocked out). "It'd be easy to come up with an excuse as to why he was out here-"

"It really would!" Cater suddenly chimed in, a grin on his lips, "I went diving through his files, turns out he's not as much of a goody-goody as he wants everyone to think!" He pulls out his phone, tapping at his screen before leaning over and showing it to Riddle who's eyebrows raised and eyes widened as he skimmed over the words.

"Ditching- causing multiple fights-" he mumbled, his eyes narrowing the further he went.

"Yep! It'd be really simple!"

"And he deserves it!" Deuce declared, "after everything he put (Y/N) through..." his face twisted into something angry, pupils dilating. "He deserves ten times worse."

"I agree," Trey said, nodding. A sage smile on his face, while he rolled up his sleeves (he had forgone his jacket and vest, only in the thin white undershirt of his uniform tucked into the belted waist of his pants). "So, let's get to doing that, if that's alright with you, dorm leader?"

Riddle nods. "It's only right." His steely eyes open slowly to reveal the rage boiling in them. "Hurting someone so important. It only deserves the most fitting punishment."

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to support me consider donating to my Ko-fi!

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midnight-aura-star · 5 years ago

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Guys part of my job is throwing out food and it has been Fucking Me Up™️. Like if anything from the fridge/freezer is left out and someone finds it anywhere, it’s auto trash.

I was at my Aunt’s house for Mother’s Day and she had orange juice out because people are over and drinks. After a little while of being there and talking I mentioned how much food I have to toss everyday, that the big jug of juice on the counter would have to be thrown out if I was at work. Even though it hadn’t been that long. Even though it was still safe to drink. Even though it was still relatively cold. It would’ve been dumped out.

The time it takes for you to finish your shopping and get everything packed in your car is probably the amount of time that we give until something is worthless to us.

them: we’re over populated, that’s why people don’t have enough food to eat

reality: capitalism over-produces food, we have enough food to feed the world we just throw away what isn’t profitable.

#jobs #'merica #I fucking hate it so much #sometimes my brain just #as im tossing out food #says ‘I am killing people’#like how fucking dramatic #but honestly #that food couldve gone to someone #that juice #etc #we only donate shit if its missing something #or expiring in the next 3 days

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sg-marshall · 4 years ago

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sims 4 trait legacy challenge

Overview:

This is a ten generation legacy challenge based on some characteristics people can possess. Each generation will be based upon a new trait. The style and gender of the generation is completely up to you (I usually play as women but gender does not matter in this challenge)! Complete all goals before focusing on the next generation. Some may play onto each other, so be sure to look ahead before moving forward! I created an adapted version for people who do not have the packs I used listed below the challenge. I wanted to make sure everyone could play and not feel left out!

Rules:

No cheats or mods!

Start off with $20,000 and a build a house wherever you want one.

Complete all six goals for every generation before moving onto the next one.

Complete the full aspiration and reach level 10 in the set career.

There is no rules when it comes to aging up but I suggest waiting until it is their set birthday.

Play on normal life span.

Packs Used: Base Game, Discovery University, Seasons, City Living, Get to Work, Cats and Dogs, Parenthood, Spa Day, and Knifty Knitting

Generation One: Responsibility

You are a very old fashioned person who believes things have a certain way of being done. Every object in your house has a set place, the person you marry you are supposed to stay with forever, and the world should be a clean place to live in. Never once have you strayed away from your beliefs and you’ve always lived your life by the book. Even once your partner dies and you are left with a child who cannot handle their passing, you stay true to your morals. (EDIT: I have been playing this challenge myself and found that the final level of the aspiration said “have a child master a career”. I do not know if you have to be in the household for that, but if you do, just add this generation to the household of the next one before they master it. It is also okay if you want to ignore/cheat this part.)

Traits: Neat, Good, Green Fiend

Aspiration: Successful Lineage

Career: Education (Administrator Branch)

Goals:

Max charisma skill.

Max research and debate skill.

Be married as a young adult, but have your partner die (do not tell your child how) once they reach adult hood. Never remarry.

Have only one child with your partner.

Complete the snowglobes collection and have them set up in a specific room in your house.

Make your neighborhood green and keep it that way.

Generation Two: Determined

You’ve always struggled to cope with the death of your father/mother ever. Maybe that's because you never really knew why they died in the first place. Left with too many questions to handle, you destroy your relationship with your friends and family and run away to find some answers. This entails a trip to Sixam, where you can finally wrap ahead around the passing of you mom/dad. You decide to come home just in time to see your mom/dad just before they too pass away. After a heart-breaking conversation, you realize that all the secrecy was for the best.

Traits: Gloomy, Ambitious, Loner

Aspiration: Nerd Brain

Career: Astronaut (Interstellar Smuggler Branch)

Goals:

Max rocket science skill.

Max mischief skill.

Build a rocket ship and fly to Sixam.

Run away and live on your own as a teenager.

Have a horrible relationship with your mom/dad as a young adult, but become best friends with them before they pass away.

Complete the microscope prints collection.

Generation Three: Loving

Your mother/father was extremely distant growing up, which caused you to rely on friends as your family. Your childhood best friend has been with you every step of the way, and you ended up fell in love with them. All you wanted to do was be a mother/father, but found out you could never have children. You adopt a child as a baby and raise them as your own, teaching them everything you wish your parents did for you.

Traits: Romantic, Family - Oriented, Foodie

Aspiration: Soulmate

Career: Babysitter (Teenager), None (Young Adult and older)

Goals:

Max parenting skill.

Max wellness skill.

Marry your childhood best friend.

Adopt a baby after you get married.

Teach your toddler to max all skills.

Have a side passion of knitting.

Generation Four: Intelligence

You grew up incredibly smart with no knowledge of who your real parents were. However, that never mattered to you. Your adoptive parents have made it their life goal to advance your gifts in every way they know how. Late nights of helping you with homework, early mornings of finishing projects, and spending their fortunes to enroll you into the college of your dreams. All you wanted to do was repay them by becoming a world renowned journalist. You dedicate your best-sellers to them because, after all, they’ll always be your biggest fan.

Traits: Genius, Bookworm, Unflirty

Aspiration: Academic

Career: Writer (Journalist Branch)

Goals:

Max logic skill.

Max writing skill.

Reach level eight in five other skills of your choice.

Go to the University of Britechester and study Language and Literature (distinguished).

Join the Debate Guild and reach the highest rank.

Write five novels.

Generation Five: Hard - Working

Fashion has been your passion since you were a little girl/boy. You even asked your parents to stop dressing you as a toddler because the clothes they picked were “not stylish enough.” As a self-proclaimed style icon, you knew you had to make your biggest dream come true: to create your own fashion line. So, as soon as you graduated high school, you packed your bags and moved to the big city - San-Myshuno. There you created your social media platform and blew up! A normal life was never your style, and you made sure to put in as many hours as it would take to achieve all you ever wanted.

Traits: Perfectionist, Self - Assured, Materialistic

Aspiration: City Native

Career: Style Influencer (Stylist Branch)

Goals:

Max photography skill.

Max painting skill.

Must live in San-Myshuno.

Complete the crystals collection.

Hire a nanny for your child and do not spend much time with them.

Gain 10,000 followers on Simstagram.

Generation Six: Resilience

After being known as “the child of the most famous fashion designer” all your life, the city became a toxic place for you. You hated the loud noises, constant stream of people, and just wanted to live a quiet life. You loved visiting your grandmother/father’s house and hearing one of her/his famous stories. You decided to pull inspiration from one of their novels and live off by the coast in the adorable Brindleton Bay. Your passion for crafting and living off the land inspired you to start a small business selling your candles and juice - all locally grown of course.

Traits: Loves Outdoors, Maker, Creative

Aspiration: Master Maker

Career: Freelancer (Simply Crafted)

Goals:

Max fabrication skill.

Reach level eight in both candle making and juice fizzing.

Move to Brindleton Bay as a young adult.

Have four or more kids.

Complete the frog collection.

Never go to an event in the city or visit the city once you are a young adult.

Generation Seven: Carefree

Being in a big family is can be hectic at times. So, you decided to be the happy jokester in the middle just trying to get people to crack a smile. And you got really good at it. As a major people person, you made sure to get to know everyone you meet. You even started a tradition of taking a picture with them so you could never forget that moment. Your friends will always invite you to go out because you are known for being the life of the party. However, the parties you host, are even better. You decide to live life as if it was one big stage, and you’re the star performer.

Traits: Goofball, Clumsy, Outgoing

Aspiration: Party Animal

Career: Entertainer (Comedian Branch)

Goals:

Max comedy skill.

Max singing skill.

Host a party every week.

Take a photo of every person who visits you.

Marry someone you met just two days before.

Attend every festival or event you are asked to attend.

Generation Eight: Kind

Expected to be just like your mother/father, no one ever assumed you would be the quiet kid who preferred reading over partied. However, that is exactly who you were. When it was that time of the week for a new social event, you either left for the library or locked yourself in your room, praying it ended soon. Your parents noticed you struggled talking to people, so they allowed you to adopt a puppy once you became a teenager. You and your dog instantly became best friends and you took them everywhere. Even though you may not be great with people, being compassionate was a skill you ranked high in. You always looked out for the less fortunate and wanted to provide in anyway you could.

Traits: Vegetarian, Loner, Good

Aspiration: Friend of the Animals

Career: Gardner (Floral Designer Branch)

Goals:

Max gardening skill.

Max flower arranging skill.

Keep up a garden of just flowers.

Adopt strays: one dog, and two cats.

Marry an ambitious sim.

Donate $100 to charity weekly.

Generation Nine: Impulsive

You grew up hearing stories of your grandmother/father’s so called “wild days” and fell in love with the energy it brought. However, your mom/dad raised you better than to go out spending life as if there was no consequences. Finding a balance started off to be very challenging for you. You could never hold down relationships and even got pregnant/got someone pregnant twice. It wasn't until you became a secret agent and learned how to live two lifestyles: one full of fun and adventure; the other more stable and structured.

Traits: Active, Non-Committal, Bro

Aspiration: Bodybuilder

Career: Secret Agent (Diamond Agent Branch)

Goals:

Max fitness skill.

Max handiness skill.

Go to either college for Psychology and play soccer.

Have four failed relationships and never get married.

Have two children from two different relationships.

Move three times once you become a young adult.

Generation 10: Passionate

Because your mother/father’s job required you to move around so much, making real life friends was a lot harder than it seemed. So, you built your relationships within the online community. Every day, you and your closest friends would hop online and compete in tournaments or even play for fun. As the years went on, you became really good at coding and even started working on your own apps. You looked up to the players from ESports Gaming - only the best gamers in the world - and longed to be sitting in one of their spots. And sure enough, after years of perfecting your strategies and game plays, your dreams came true!

Traits: Geek, Hot-Headed, Outgoing

Aspiration: Computer Whiz

Career: Tech Guru (ESport Gamer Branch)

Goals:

Max programming skill.

Max video gaming skill.

Complete the MySims Trophies collection.

Attend and compete in every Geek Con convention.

Make five video games or apps.

Mentor your child/ren for five hours each.

Adaptations:

Gen 1:

If you do not have Discover University, go into the Business career (Management Branch).

Max cooking skill if you do not have Discover University.

If you do not have City Living, complete the postcards collection.

Gen 2:

Unlock the secret world in Oasis Springs if you do not have Get to Work.

Gen 3:

If you do not have Parenthood but do have Get to Work, max the baking skill.

If you do not have both Parenthood and Get to Work, max the gourmet cooking skill.

If you do not have Spa Day but do have Knifty Knitting, max the knitting skill.

If you do not have both Spa Day or Knifty Knitting, max the photography skill.

If you do not have Knifty Knitting, have a side passion of photography.

Gen 4:

If you do not have Discover University, read a new skill book every week instead of attending university.

Gen 5:

If you do not have City Living, have the Fabulously Wealthy aspiration.

If you do not have City Living, live in Oasis Springs.

Gen 6:

Do not have a career if you do not have Eco-Lifestyle. Instead, craft item on the woodworking for money.

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, max the fishing skill instead of reaching level eight in candle making and juice fizzing.

If you do not have Cats and Dogs, move to Evergreen Harbor.

If you do not have both Cats and Dogs or Eco-Lifestyle, live in Willow Creek

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, have the self-assured trait instead.

If you do not have Eco-Lifestyle, have the Angling Ace aspiration.

Gen 7:

If you do not have City Living but do have Get Together, max the dancing skill.

If you do not have both City Living or Get Together, max the mixology skill.

Gen 8:

If you do not have Dogs and Cats, have the Freelance Botanist aspiration.

Do not have a career if you do not have Seasons. Instead, sell your plants for money.

If you do not have Seasons but have Get to Work, max the baking skill.

If you do not have both Seasons or Get to Work, max the violin skill.

If you do not have Dogs and Cats, but have Seasons, own three bees nests and two insect nests instead of owning pets.

If you do not have both Dogs and Cats or Seasons, have three children instead of having three pets.

If you do not have City Living, have the cheerful trait.

Gen 9:

If you do have Strangerville, go into the Military Career (I do not have it, so I played as a Secret Agent)

If you do have Snowy Escape, have the adventurous trait instead of the active trait (I do not have it but believe they would be adventurous).

If you do not have Discover University, read five skill books over different topics, instead of going to college.

Gen 10:

If you do not have City Living, compete in an online tournament weekly instead of going to Geek Con.

#sims #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 legacy #small creator #newchallenge #lilsimsie #clairesiobhan #maxismatch #maxismatchccworld #legacy #sims4 #basegame #traits

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makeste · 3 years ago

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BnHA Chapter 318: On Your Left

Previously on BnHA: The Hawksquad+Lurkers were all “well this sucks” and sat around a bit talking about how maybe they should actually come up with a new plan that is actually good, but then in the end they were like “nah.” Deku was all, “THERE’S SOMETHING INSIDE ME THAT PULLS BENEATH THE SURFACE!! CONSUMING, CONFUSING!! THIS LACK OF SELF CONTROL I FEAR IS NEVERENDING. IT’S HAUNTING HOW I CANT SEEM TO FIND MYSELF AGAIN. MY WALLS ARE CLOSING IN.” Just, literally that whole entire song. All Might was all “Deku you should take care of yourself, try eating a thing,” and Deku was all “BYE, ALL MIGHT,” and just LEFT. He left!!! What the fuck!!!

Today on BnHA: Endeavor is all, “maybe if Deku didn’t listen to All Might he’ll listen to me instead.” Deku is all, “[doesn’t listen to Endeavor]” because, well, yeah. The Vestiges are all, “surprisingly, even we are a little concerned -- maybe you should get some rest, kid.” Deku is all, “((Ò ‸ Ó)).” The Vestiges are all, “holy shit.” Deku is all, “[wanders the ruined city streets terrifying the populace on account of him looking like Shelob had a baby with one of the Nazgul].” Some shriveled-up puppeteer villain asshole is all, “HORIKOSHI SAID IT’S MY TURN TO ATTACK DEKU TODAY SO I AM GOING TO SUMMON MY FRIGHTENED HELPLESS ATTACK MOB!!” Kacchan is all “WHADDYA MEAN THEY FOUND THE NERD!!! -- oh wait, that’s me, I found him. I found the nerd, you guys.” And just in time, too. I was about to owe a whole lot of people a whole lot of dollars.

so I have been super good about spoilers this week as always, but let me tell you guys, for the past 36 hours my dash filters have basically been nonstop “manga spoilers” this and “bnha 318” that, and so I’m coming in with a fair amount of hype here. your move, Horikoshi

oh, good! they got Endeavor to call Deku to try to talk him out of it. what a great and wonderful plan

“listen up kid, you haven’t slept since March and you are basically a walking biohazard right now, I’m just telling it like it is. didn’t you get shot like three times?? and there was a whole thing about how you urgently needed medical attention?? and supposedly we gave it to you, but I mean you haven’t even changed your clothes and don’t seem to have any fresh bandages or anything, so did we?? did we, really?? and also we all got blown up yesterday, so yeah.” hmm he’s making some reasonable points here you guys, but you sure do go on and on, Endeavor

oh he says foreign aid is finally on its way! I’m sure they’ll be very helpful. I mean in fairness they can hardly be worse than the home-grown heroes at this point

hey Enji, could you maybe try appealing to Deku the sixteen-year-old human boy, as opposed to Deku The World’s Last Hope? he does have value beyond his quirk. I know that’s always been an incredibly difficult concept for you to grasp, but could you maybe TRY, jesus

and also we’re worried about you as a person?? you’re just a kid and you’re pushing yourself way too hard?? you were going to say that part next, right. why the hell didn’t Hawks make this call instead

“don’t worry about me... I’m completely fine” Deku you do understand that saying it over and over again doesn’t actually make it true

and again with the rush!! all the rush rush rush!! we’re running out of time, we can’t let AFO and Tomura keep getting stronger, I have to end this now, there’s no time to rest, etc. etc. etc. just the constant pressure of this whole big countdown on top of everything else

holy shit, you KNOW it’s bad when even the Vestiges are telling him to chill

these guys are basically the walking talking embodiments of self-sacrifice; if even they’re telling him he needs to take five, then he must seriously be like half a step away from death’s door

OH SHIT LMAO

DIDN’T EVEN LET HIM FINISH HIS SENTENCE BEFORE HE SENT HIM INTO THE FUCKING SHADOW REALM WITH THAT FUCKING LOOK. HOLY FUCK. DIDN’T EVEN KNOW IT WAS POSSIBLE TO DIE TWICE. SHIT

(ETA: so I’m pretty sure this was just Danger Sense activating and so he cut them off to go do more hero stuff, but I’m gonna go ahead and stick to my original interpretation anyway lol.)

anyway so how’s everybody doing. we all good? En, you good? Banjou? Shino? I’m imagining you guys all curled up in a little ball on the floor right now lol. can’t say I blame you though, no shame

lmaoooooooooooo

“SHEESH.” sheesh indeed, lmao. “what in the FUCK was that”

see, this is why y’all need Kacchan. you need someone who’s not going to back down from him no matter what. if it’s a matter of out-stubborning Midoriya fucking Izuku, then there’s only one other person on the planet capable of that, and we all know it. don’t pretend like you don’t. I am not going to shut up about this! we’ve had our hurt so now what about SOME COMFORT, DAMMIT

“I’m afraid that he’s becoming influenced by my conscience” nah are you kidding Nana this is all 100% made-in-Japan pure original Deku right here

see, Banjou gets it. “that kid, he’s totally going on his own.” exactly. this was so inevitable it was basically scientific law

“well I for one don’t see the problem with Deku being so obsessed with saving everyone else that he pushes himself until his body and soul literally fall apart” okay, whose speech bubbles are these?? we’re about to have words

lol of course

well you always did prefer the direct route didn’t you. but even you can’t possibly think this is okay lol

dark AU!Kacchan please tell us more about your badass doomed timeline in which everything went to shit and you apparently had the same character arc that Deku is having right now except it somehow made you sexier instead of turning you into a rabid t-rex. I have so many questions

oh so now you want to help??? well -- good, actually. sorry if that sounded offended just now lol

(ETA: so at first when I got to the end of this chapter I was wondering if Katsuki B. had somehow summoned his alternate-universe counterpart through trippy OFA space telepathy lol. but in the original Japanese there’s no reference to “we”, so this appears to be a mistranslation. this line should probably read more like “if there’s something/someone out there that would be able to complement/complete the current Midoriya Izuku [it would be]…” which, oh hello, is that Horikoshi once again reaffirming that Deku and Bakugou complete each other lol. “guess what guys, the Vestiges ship it too" heck yeah. they know what’s up!)

look how admiring his boyfriends are. HORIKOSHI GIVE US THE REST OF THIS BACKSTORY ALREADY GODDAMMIT

“meanwhile somewhere in the depths of the ruined city, Deku was having a dance-off with the villains”

I like how the villains all have this “AHH WHAT THE FUCK” kind of body language to them lol. I mean if it were me, and an eldritch horror suddenly clawed its way from the shadows with its writhing glowy tentacles and pants-shitting nuclear death stare, I would probably just die on the spot. no need to stick around. only pain awaits

lol for a minute I thought this was Can’t Ya See-kun and I was like “WHAT A FASCINATING CROSSING OF PATHS” but it’s just some random girl

he seems genuinely confused lol

Deku it’s because you look like something that crawled out of a sewer drain, sweetheart

lol they just took his word for it?

so trusting. even though they’re immediately hauling ass anyway just to be safe lmao

“my appearance is frightening to others” no shit Deku it’s because you look like a fucking alien exorcism. you look like a Lich that got caught up in an oil spill my dude

NO NOT THE CHOSEN ONE ANGST AGAIN

I RAN OUT OF ESSAY JUICE FOR THIS ALREADY HORIKOSHI!! I’VE BEEN TALKING ABOUT IT FOR MONTHS NOW WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG!! BUT ANYWAYS, GOOD!! I MEAN, BAD, THOUGH, OBVIOUSLY. BUT YES

“ENJOY THIS MONTAGE OF DEKU BATTLING A RANDOM KAIJU AND WANDERING THE WOODS LIKE A DERANGED GREEN BABA YAGA” okay yes but sir, exactly how much longer is this going to go on. if it’s a matter of you wanting to make sure we get it, let me assure you that aside from a few stray chuunis who think that Deku embracing the Darkness is the coolest thing he’s ever done, all of us here in fandom fully comprehend that this is Not Good

-- OH SO IT’S LIKE THAT

really. with the flashbacks to his loved ones’ smiling faces and everything. not even gonna try to aim above the belt, huh

AND NO KACCHAN??! NO CLASSMATES?!?! IS HE PURPOSELY NOT THINKING OF THEM??? OR ARE THEY BEING SAVED FOR THE NEXT PAGE??? SO HELP ME, IF THE NEXT PART OF THIS SENTENCE IS “CAN PROTECT THEM”, OR EVEN WORSE, “CAN SEE THEIR SMILING FACES AGAIN”, I...

WHAT DID I JUST SAY

(ETA: my man did Sero and Kaminari fucking dirty lmao. I miss their smiling faces too omg.)

the sheer, unparalleled irony of him saying this while he stands there looking like the gargoyle demon from Fantasia got crossed with an umbrella that got struck by lightning. Deku :(

oi who the fuck is this clown

is he controlling this mob with his evil hair. “what if I made an exhausted, running-on-fumes Deku battle a brainwashed mob at Ground Zero.” Horikoshi do you just have like a checklist of horrible things you want to do to your protagonist

easy there Sasori

well joke’s on you buddy because he’s apparently “completely fine”, so

“here’s to hoping that you know more about AFO’s location than the others” jesus christ Deku you really have hung your mercy out to dry huh

now he’s forcing his mob of terrified prisoners to attack Deku ahhhh. sucks to be them. at least they’re not being controlled by bees

so Deku is saying that Sasori’s control can be broken with “physical trauma.” similar to Shinsou’s quirk I guess. but so does that mean he’s gonna have to hurt them? ( •﹏•)

NO NOT MORE SAD EYES

“DEATH BY EMPATHY!!!” HORIKOSHI NO

fuck. he looks like he’s on the verge of passing out

this is what happens when you nerf a character’s self-preservation stats in favor of spamming their bone-breaking stats instead. NOW ACCEPTING BRAIN CELL DONATIONS FOR A BOY IN NEED!! with your loving generosity we can hopefully help him live to the ripe old age of seventeen

OMGFGGG

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

[grabs your hands] ლ(*꒪ヮ꒪*)ლ [swings you in a circle] へ(ﾟ◇ﾟへ)

THASSSSSSSS WHATSSSSSSS UPPPPPPPPPP

HORIKOSHI REALLY SAID FUCK THAT MASK (ノ°ο°)ノ YOU FINALLY LEARNED!! IT’S CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!!!

JUST FOR YOU KACCHAN, HORIKOSHI LEFT THIS ONE BAD GUY WHO’S STILL WEAK TO FIRE. GOD BLESS

IT’S YOUR COUNTERPART, KATSUKI B!!!! HOW WE DOIN OVER THERE IN THE TRIPPY COSMIC OFA SPACE REALM LOL. DO WE BELIEVE YET, FANDOM???

LIGHTS!!!!

INSTANT RESULTS!!! IT’S SUPER EFFECTIVE!!!

(ETA: imagine what this must look like to Deku though. he’s been caught up in this dark cloud of despair and exhaustion that’s been building up over... I’m gonna go ahead and say “weeks”, because yeah. and now he finds himself here, in the place where All Might’s legacy ended and the torch was passed to him. and the world is in ruins, and he’s surrounded by frightened people who are all trying to hurt him -- because who isn’t trying to hurt him, these days -- and he’s scrambling to figure this all out, but meanwhile the weariness is finally starting to catch up to him, and so he’s basically just standing there in a fog of complete and utter misery.

and then all of a sudden through that haze, he hears the one voice that’s more familiar than any other that he knows. like, I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he thought he was just imagining it at first. Kacchan showing up to save him right when he’s at his most desperate and feeling the most alone. Kacchan, showing up to save him.

this is the person he always looked up to as a child (to be fair he was quite a strange child lmao). the person who was even closer to him than All Might. the person he always thought was amazing. and bam, here he is now. appearing in the sky out of nowhere to one-shot the bad guy with a single blast (which, btw, that was his armor-piercing attack too lmao dslkjlk take it easy there kiddo). like, that must have felt absolutely surreal to him, especially coming at a time when he’s already half-delirious and barely hanging on to reality. he must have really thought that he was losing it there for a second.

but he’s really there. it really is him. and for this brief moment -- before the rest of the situation catches up to him, and he remembers about all of the fucked-up AFO stuff, and remembers why he was so afraid and why he was pushing everyone away -- for just this one brief moment, he’s too exhausted and stunned to do anything except to just react. just stands there, looking up at him in awe.

and you know, it almost reminds me of...

just. you guys. the character development. the freaking character development. someone who brings reassurance. someone who shows up and makes you think, “oh, it’s all going to be okay now, because [person] is here.” the role reversals. the growth. the payoff!! because who is the one person who always had faith that Kacchan would one day grow up to become an amazing hero like that. WHO IS IT. YOU ALREADY KNOW.

omg. anyways, bless you Horikoshi, my feels which have been on backorder since fucking September have finally arrived lmao. yes, good, thank you. worth the wait. it is always, always worth the wait. fuck yeah.)

“LOWFRIES” SO YOU’RE TELLING ME THE WHOLE GANG IS HERE, AHHHHHHHH (º̩̩́⌣º̩̩̀ )

BEAUTIFUL. WONDERFUL. SENSATIONAL. I DON’T EVEN CARE THAT JUMP IS ON BREAK NEXT WEEK. THIS RIGHT HERE WILL SUSTAIN ME

#bnha 318 #midoriya izuku #BAKUGOU KATSUKI #!!!!#twowy mctwoface #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha meta #bakudeku #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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homerforsure · 3 years ago

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Whumptober No.27

passing out / vertigo / collapse

Covid has made blood donation harder. Half of the usual churches, schools, and community centers that the Red Cross sets up shop in are closed or too small for social distancing. When they can find a space, they’re only managing a fraction of the usual number of donations and it’s starting to have an impact on local hospitals. All of that leads to one of the directors getting in touch with Chimney and asking if the 118 would consider hosting again.

Bobby takes them out of service for an afternoon and they throw the doors open to walk-ins, lining up donation tables, cookies, and juice boxes in the apparatus bay. The on-duty firefighters are first on the appointment books to hopefully give them time to recover before finishing out the rest of their shift.

“Wow, I think I could get a needle in your arm in the dark,” Buck’s nurse says once she has him situated in a chair. “No, sorry, that came out weird. I just mean that you’re really easy. I mean, your VEINS are easy. To stab.”

“I get that a lot,” Buck laughs. “It’s all about hydration.”

“Well whatever it is, I’m glad you came out today. A couple dozen patients like you and we’d have the blood banks stocked in no time.”

In spite of her verbal fumbling, Dana makes efficient, painless work of tying a tourniquet and getting the needle into Buck’s arm and makes sure that he’s comfortable. “Does that feel okay?” she asks as blood flashes in the tube and starts flowing easily into the bag by his side.

“Perfect,” Buck answers.

“Alright, I’m gonna give you this stress ball. Just go ahead and keep squeezing it at regular intervals to encourage that blood flow and I’ll be back to check on you in a few. If you start to feel light-headed or if anything hurts or feels weird, just shout, okay?”

He nods at the familiar procedure and gives the ball in his hand a quick squeeze. Buck doesn’t donate regularly, but it was always a good excuse to get out of class in high school and he goes with Bobby and his magic arm now and again. Ten minutes to save a life. It’s probably the most heroic thing he ever does. And it comes with cookies.

Buck’s thumbing through his phone when a bump to his shoulder sends the wiki page he’s on scrolling to the great beyond.

“Hey!”

“Don’t focus so hard. Your brain will leak out your ears,” Eddie says as he follows Dana over to the next chair in the line, six feet away.

“I didn’t know you were coming today.” Eddie’s not working today--just one of those odd mismatches in their schedules--and Buck was pretty sure his day was supposed to include grocery shopping, laundry, and a bathroom deep clean.

Eddie cranes his neck so he can look at Buck around Dana and says, “Yeah well. I used up more than my fair share of the blood bank last spring. Least I can do is help restock it.”

He says it wryly. In a typically “Eddie” way. Gallows humor is part of the job because if you’re laughing you’re not panicking, but something about those words today feel like an ice cube being slipped down the back of Buck’s shirt.

From the other side of Eddie, Higgins chirps, “You better have them hook a bag up to both arms then, Diaz.”

And Eddie laughs but Buck squeezes tight around the ball in his hand and he doesn’t want to let go.

Eddie doesn’t know how much blood was transfused into his veins to keep him alive. He doesn’t know how many stitches were used to sew him back together. He’s a little fuzzy on how many days he spent in the hospital. It’s maddening to Buck who feels like if he really knew everything about that day, if he could catalog it and square it away, then he wouldn’t ever be blindsided by the memory. Eddie talks about “you know, that time I got shot” as if it was something that happened to someone else. Like he got up and left the moment there in the street. Buck can’t let it go. There’s a part of him that’s still hoisting a dying Eddie in his arms. A part that’s never going to be able to put him down.

As he stops flexing his fingers around the ball, tension builds in Buck’s rigid forearm. He can feel the needle now in the crook of his elbow, invasive and painful. Dana hooks Eddie up to his own bag and when Buck sees the ruby red blood flow through the tube, a hot shudder passes through him.

The room blurs, only for a moment, and Buck turns his head away, resting a fist on his forehead as he closes his eyes. His heart pounds without racing, the steady pump bouncing the needle against his skin.

“Doing okay?” Dana asks, at his side immediately.

Buck drops his hand and manages a tight smile, “Yeah. Just felt- Just a headache, I think.”

She frowns at him because it’s her job to identify who’s going to pass out and grind the entire donation machine to a screeching halt and she’s good at her job. Checking the bag at his side, Dana says, “You’re about halfway there. Five minutes left.”

“All good,” Buck promises. He’s not lying. Talking to Dana takes him out of wherever he was just a moment ago, his pulse stabilizes, and he stops sweating. She smiles and leaves him be.

It barely takes a minute before Buck slips away again. He can’t help but turn his head to the left and Eddie’s still there, blood still draining out of his body. It isn’t the same. This moment couldn’t be further from that one except that Buck’s still six feet away. Watching it happen.

Sweat rises on his skin and that sickly hot wave courses through him again. It’s panic, just panic, he can get it under control. The periphery of the room is blurry again; the bustle of the apparatus bay somehow far away.

Eddie’s hydrated and healthy so his donation bag fills quickly and Buck can’t take his eyes away from it. The blood drips in time with Buck’s pulse. With Eddie’s pulse. Buck imagines it stopping and as he does his heart seems to hiccup in his chest. He imagines that bag falling, breaking open, a pool of blood covering the floor beneath Eddie and he can’t breathe. Eddie’s lying still, his eyes closed, his hand curling and uncurling around the orange ball in his hand and Buck remembers Eddie reaching out to him. He remembers being frozen, not reaching back as all that blood pooled dark in the road.

“Do you think I should do a crime?” Eddie asked from his hospital bed.

Buck picked his head up from where he’d been resting it in his hands, staring without seeing at the machines declaring how alive Eddie was, “What?”

“Well I’ve got other people’s blood in me now. I won’t leave any DNA evidence. It’s probably the best opportunity that I’ll have.”

He said it to make Buck laugh, but Buck hadn’t been able to. It took two weeks before he was able to. “Red blood cells don’t have DNA,” he answered. “You’re still you.”

“Still me,” Eddie echoed. “And still here.”

They’re both still there, but there are moments when Buck can’t believe it. Moments when nothing but his hands on Eddie’s warm skin can soothe him. Moments like these.

He can’t hear Dana when she reappears to unfasten him from the tubes. The tourniquet being untied comes with a twinge of pain and the needle sliding out of his arm brings another. There’s something about cookies. He’s supposed to hand the stress ball back but he can’t let go of it. The room is getting darker and all Buck can see is blood. He’s supposed to go though. He’s not supposed to be here anymore. He’s supposed to-

Buck stands. Dana shouts at him. He wobbles, all of his limbs feeling numb and insubstantial. And then… And then he falls, crashing in a heap to the ground.

#whumptober2021 #no.27 #passing out #fic #911 #blood #needles #tw blood #tw needles #911fic #i seriously struggled with how to tag this #it was inspired by the passing out prompt but #bleeding?#trauma?#anxiety?#I decided not to write it #but you should know that the next thing that happens is eddie rips the needle out of his arm and zooms over there #and he and buck quietly have orange juice together

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bossbitch444 · 3 years ago

Text

affair / K.SJ

- Kim Seokjin x female reader

- cheating , infidelity, bathroom sex, oral (both receiving) , betrayal, quickie, daddy kinks

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

"Ladies and gentlemen, let us all welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Jung!" you gently put your hands in Hoseok's hand.

This was a party for a cause that your husband Hoseok organized. The funds from this party will be donated at a charity that your husband has established.

"Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Jung for this wonderful party." the MC said and Hoseok just gave him a the brightest smile that he have. You can feel an intense gaze staring at you.

You know who it was.

Kim Seokjin.

Hoseok's best friend.

You turned to your right side and saw him holding a glass of wine staring at Hoseok's hand on your waist. He's jealous. He is fucking jealous.

"Are you alright?" Hoseok leaned in to you and whispered.

"yeah, i'm alright. I'm just tired." you said as he lead you to the table where his friends at.

"Do you want me to lead you to our room? Why didn't you said earlier?" he asked worried. You just chuckled at him. "C'mon daddy, stop over reacting. I'm fine." you smiled sweetly at him and gave him a peck on his lips. He just nodded and kissed your forehead.

"Come on give us some respect. You're PDA." you turned to look at Jimin who was looking at you and Hoseok with disgust.

"Yah! Park Jimin. Why don't you go get yourself a wife so that you can stop being so salty huh?" Hoseok said while Jimin just rolled his eyes making you and the others laugh except one.

He was still looking at you making you so goddamn uncomfortable.

You picked up your purse and told Hoseok that you will go to the washroom and made your way to the washroom while greeting people that came to your way.

Before you can close the door someone pushed it and push you inside making your heartbeat faster.

"W-what are you doing?" you almost shout at him as he locked the door behind him and made his way into you. Wrapping his arms around you and sealing your lips with his.

You tried to push him away but he just deepened the kiss making you whimper in pain as you felt your lips sting with pain due to his harshness.

"J-jin! Stop!" you struggled on pushing him, but he just place his hand on your waist down to your thighs.

"Why? Are you having fun with Hoseok touching you? Why? Do you prefer his dick than mine?" he harshly whisper in your ear as he gripped your waist .

"What the fuck are you talking about? He's my husband!" you glared at him as he look at you intently.

"Exactly. Why can't you just leave him and be with me? You don't even love him!"

"I LOVE HIM!"

"Then why are you here with me? Why are we doing this?"

you looked at him intently. You didn't know why are you here. You don't know what you feel with him. But one thing is for sure, you love Hoseok. You love your husband.

"Ask yourself. Why are you forcing yourself with a married woman?"

That was your last words.

His face darkened even more, his eyebrows are knitted and he is breathing heavily as he looks at you. Almost killing you with his stare.

He pressed himself into you as he crashes his lips with yours.

Kissing you roughly and his hands made its way to breast grabbing it rough, palming it.

You can feel the heat of his hands through your satin dress.

This is all wrong but your body says the opposite. You unconsciously wrapped your fingers through his soft hair gently tugging it while responding to his kisses.

"Hmm, can't resist me huh?" he said between the kiss and gently pull down your thong.

You moan into his mouth, getting needy. It was only him who can make you this horny that easy. Not even Hoseok, just him.

You placed your right hand to his crotch palming it and feeling how hard he is right at this moment.

"Hmm. Such a needy slut to your real daddy. " he chuckled as he whispered into your ear making you wet even more.

You like it, no. Scratch that, you love it. You love it when Seokjin calls you names and talking dirty things to you because damn, he's fucking good at this.

You unbuckled his belt and pull his pants off together with his boxer.

Pumping it up and down, you kneel in front of him and slowly lick the head of his dick licking the dripping pre-cum.

"Fuck yeah, Y/N" he groaned and gently tugged into your hair massaging your scalp making you whimper and slowly took him all the way in.

You start to move as you give him a mind blowing head. Jin thrust himself inside you making you gagged as his dick reaches the back of your throat.

Blame God for giving Jin such a big and mighty dick. (lol plz don't blame God I am just kidding)

You felt him twitch and as he was about to cum, he pulled you up and make you face the mirror and he roughly pushed himself inside you making you gasp at the sudden contact of his dick in your cunt.

He thrust himself inside you as he grabbed your right breast with his right hand and the other on your hair.

"Don't close your eyes baby, I want you to look at the mirror and watched me as I fuck your brains out." he growls in your ear and your eyes automatically opens and watch him fucking you from behind and it turns you on even more.

You look at your reflection in the mirror, your eyes were seem like drunk, your mouth gaping open and your boobs were exposed from your dress.

You let out a loud moan as Jin kissed your neck gently nibbling it.

"A-ah J-jin I'm cumming!" you felt your walls tightened around Jin and he suddenly stop.

"What did you call me?" shit. He doesn't want to be called by his name during your intimate session or else he will stop. Stupid you.

"P-please daddy." you plead and gently grabbed his dick and putting it inside you.

Jin did not waste any time. He roughly slid his dick inside you and pound really hard giving you the best fuck of your life.

"D-daddy! I'm cumming!" you moaned as he rams himself inside you until he released his load inside you filling your womb. You are on pills so there's nothing to worry about.

Being the gentleman that he is, you felt him wipe your juices that is dripping on your thighs and he fix your dress and gently comb your hair with his fingers.

You cannot look at him. His sincerity is killing you.

"Jin I-" you tried to speak but he immediately hush you.

"I understand." he just simply said then kissed your forehead and walked out of the room leaving you with guilt in your system.

You love Hoseok but you also love Jin.

So what to do?

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#bts smuts oneshot #bts x reader #bts stuff #bts smut #bts scenarios #btssmut #bts one shot #bts army #bts jungkook #bts jimin #bts yoongi #run bts #seokjin #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #hoseok #bts packs

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werebutch · 2 years ago

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Ok I need to draw something cool again. Can someone help me and donate some brain juice? Because if I can’t produce something soon I’ll probably end it all. To be honest

#looking at my pinned post like. when am I gonna draw something like that again? huh? when.#my regret on that piece is atlas’s (right) hair. the shading looks terrible. but that’s ok I’m learning

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starlocked01 · 3 years ago

Text

Toddlers Scare the Living Shit Out of Me

AO3 Link

Dukexiety Week Day 4- Parents

WC: 3k

Summary: Virgil is very surprised when he's brought home by a fascinating stranger at the bar. A kid wasn't exactly what he agreed to in a one-night stand. Nor did he expect a relationship.

Content Warnings: Alcohol Use, Talk of divorce, Swearing, Mild gory language

@dukexietyweek

(also thank you @suchaswearemads for their OC Teddy 🧡)

Virgil was mildly aware that he might regret this if he lived until morning. His roommate would probably have a statistic at the ready about criminals luring victims away from clubs with whispered promises of sex or drugs, and how often they target gay men. Virgil snorted a laugh to himself. Poor Lo would kill him himself if he knew what Virgil was up to. This guy even looked the part of an unhinged surprise organ donation scheduler, all covered in spikes and tattoos of anatomical cross-sections all over his visible skin. If Virgil were any drunker, he'd probably mistake him for a skeleton or half dissected cadaver.

He really didn't care. He was drunk and Remus said pretty words that made him feel wanted. He'd follow the cadaver man halfway around the world like this. Exactly proving Logan right that he shouldn't go out drinking alone. He giggled and stumbled and giggled because he stumbled and the ground was spinning under his feet.

"What’s so funny, Dr. Gloom 'n' Giggles?" Remus caught Virgil and pulled him back upright, even as his brain fought to stay closer to the ground and made the whole damn world lurch in protest.

"Hey! 'M fine. Yourrr gonna kill me, bad man mad man. Fuuuuuuuck I had way too- didya spike 'e?" Virgil struggled to form a single, coherent sentence, feeling the alcohol's effects acutely and in increasing measure with each step towards doom and destruction.

Remus laughed, "ya caught me. Why don't I call you a taxi home?"

"Nooo! I sssaaid I'd come home withya- ssooo I am," Virgil shook his head and tried to stand and remain upright. His attempt lasted all of a second before Remus had to catch him again.

"Look, I don’t need you trying to puke all over my dick or something. I'm calling you a fucking cab," Remus tried to reason but Virgil heard none of it as he yanked himself away to hurl in the bushes.

"'M fine. Commmmming down," Virgil panted, trying desperately to steady himself. After several deep breaths and false starts, he managed to stay upright and reach for a steadying hand. Whatever had knocked him on his ass so quickly was also fading just as fast, "shiitt, did you spike my drink?"

"Nah, man. Come on, we're almost there."

---

Remus stared at this drunk little catch from the bar and was glad he was the one who'd picked him up. Someone must have tried something funny with his drink. Bad enough news for everyone else still at the club but at least this one was safe.

Remus shook his head and checked his phone to call a cab only to find the phone dead already. Shit. No way to warn Roman now. Remus waited for Virgil to finish puking his guts out on the neighbor's lawn, pretty dead set on getting this guy help as soon as they got home and he convinced Ro he needed a favor.

Slowly, he helped Virgil towards his front door, surprised at how fast the intoxication seemed to be turning around as Virgil got steadier on his own feet. Remus winced when he couldn’t find his keys and cursed when Virgil reached out and rang the doorbell.

"Stop! It's way too late for that!" Remus hissed as the door quickly opened to a very pissed-off looking Roman.

"Are you crazy! Pat's asleep- oh… oh who the fuck is this?" Roman asked, stepping outside and shutting the door behind him, "Remus, you promised tonight!"

"Ro, calm down. This is Virgil. Yes, I promised, but do you think you could take-"

"No!" Roman exclaimed furiously, "I have work tomorrow! I can't take Pat. Send Virgil home and be a grown-up for once!" Roman grumbled and turned abruptly back inside.

"Roman! Someone tried to spike him-" Remus hissed, pulling Virgil inside with him "-and before it hit, he was the best guy I've met in my life."

"Oh you mean just like Mr. Wonderful?" Roman snarked back in a low voice as he gathered his belongings. Remus winced at the reminder.

"Don't be a dick, brother dearest. That's my job. Please, I promise this time will be the last-"

"I can't! Teddy is already worried that I'm out this late. We love Patton but we're not raising him for you. You're not a kid anymore, Rem. Learn to date like an adult because we're not babysitting while you go out clubbing like this again," Roman huffed and stormed toward the door, "sorry to meet you like this, Virgil. I hope you feel better soon."

Virgil barely lifted his hand to wave as Roman left and shut the door with a dreadful finality. Remus slumped and sat at the foot of the couch Virgil had sprawled on.

"Sorry about him. How ya doing, Virgie?" Remus asked quietly.

Virgil groaned, "head hurts. Still tipsy. What the fuck did you do to my drink?"

"I didn't do anything but save you from whoever did," Remus shook his head and stood, "I'll get you some water. Or gatorade. Or milk. Fuck what do I even-"

Remus was suddenly cut off by clattering dishes and a small whimpering coming from the kitchen. In a few swift steps, he entered the kitchen and flicked on the lights to find a plate toppled from the counter to the floor, the fridge cracked open, and a toddler trying very hard to hide behind the trash can.

"Pattycake! What are you doing sneaking around in the dark?" Remus slapped on a grin and swooped the child into his arms with a grunt, "oh big boy. Getting too old to pick up like this."

Patton squeaked in his father's arms as he was lifted up, "got loud, Papa. Unkie Ro promised me a second cookie before bed."

"He did now?" Remus asked, eyebrows raised in mock shock.

"Mhmm. Said Unkie Teddy'd bring it. Where's Unkie Teddy?"

"Oh no! Ro was gonna call the cookie monster himself to get ya?" Remus gasped as he shifted his hold on the child and nudged the plate under the sink to take care of in the morning, "Uncle Ro promised you a cookie monster and didn't show up? That fiend!" Remus giggled with Patton as he grabbed a couple of water bottles from the fridge, shutting the door with his hip.

"Unkie Monsta!" Patton giggled, clinging to Remus’s neck.

"Mhmm. It's really late buddy. You should get back to bed," Remus cooed as he dropped one of the water bottles on Virgil’s chest.

"What the hell-?" Virgil tried to sit up, utterly confused who Remus was talking to now.

"Hey! You don't get to cuss in front of my kid until date five!" Remus snapped, holding Patton close. Virgil blinked at the baby blue eyes, curly blonde hair and the overwhelming amount of freckles as the child stared back at him with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

"Papa, who's that? He looks spiky," Patton whimpered, quickly hiding his face from Virgil.

"Baby, I'm spiky. I like spiky people," Remus carefully soothed, running a hand through soft curls, "he's one of Papa's new friends."

Virgil watched, unamused, "you didn't say that you have a kid. What, were you planning on bringing me back here with a toddler who could walk in and see anything?"

"Look, I was trying to ask my brother to babysit him overnight. You're hella cute but I didn't expect to make this introduction so quickly," Remus huffed, "Pattybear, be nice and say hi and then you best be headed back to bed, mister."

Patton peeked one eye out to appraise the stranger in his spot on the couch. After a long moment, he waved and barely audibly whispered a small, "hi."

Virgil smiled at the typical child response to his neon purple hair and uncountable piercings, but Remus laughed loudly, startling both the drunk man and the child, "oh Come on! That was weak shit, Pat-Pat. Say it like you mean it!"

"That's not necess-"

"HI!" the tiny voice bellowed over his protests. Father and son laughed together as Virgil sputtered.

"Now that's what I'm talking about, my little monster! Alright, enough fun. Back to bed, you rascal. Papa has to take care of the baby who drank too much apple juice," Remus beamed and set Patton down on the ground, waving as the child sped off back to his room.

"Cute kid. You didn’t mention a kid earlier," Virgil groaned and laid back down on the couch, head swimming.

"Yeah well, kids are chick magnets," Remus replied, not meeting Virgil’s eyes.

"Okay?"

"I'm into dudes…"

"And? It's not like a kid is gonna send good guys running," Virgil shrugged, very much regretting his choice of drinks that night.

"Yeah, you haven't run yet. But that was a very tired out and pacified little scamp you just met. You'll see in the morning- unless you wanted me to call you a cab now?" Remus asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't wanna move," Virgil murmured, "but I would like kissesss."

"Direct. I like it," Remus smirked and slid down to kneel next to the couch, "but that would be taking advantage of your weakened defenses. Sleep it off and ask me in the morning."

Virgil whined and pouted at the denial, "please? I came all this way."

"Well, if you insist," Remus grinned and leaned in close. Virgil smirked and pulled Remus forward that last inch. Virgil tried hard to enjoy the kiss but the fact of the not yet sleeping child in another room tempered his desires greatly. After a minute, Remus pulled back and grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch.

"To be continued, Dr. Love."

"Fine. Good night," Virgil sighed and watched Remus stand and leave the living room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

---

Virgil awoke the next morning to a warm palm pressed against his cheek. He slowly blinked his eyes open to find bright blue eyes framed with thin black wire-rimmed glasses. Squinting out the light to protect himself from the impending headache, Virgil finally recognized the child from the night before.

"Hey, Patton-"

"Angels sing and demons cry, but we can't tell the difference," Patton stated sweetly, head tilted to one side.

"Hey Kiddo, breakfast time!" Remus called from the kitchen, "is Virgil up yet?"

Virgil felt a chill run down his spine as the child giggled, patted his face, and called back, "yes Papa! We're coming!"

Virgil groaned and sat up slowly, sore from sleeping on the couch with his piercings still in. How he'd managed to fall asleep in skinny jeans absolutely baffled him, almost as much as the peculiar little kid staring at him expectantly.

"What d'ya want, kid?"

"A kitty!"

"I don't have a kitty."

Patton’s eyes immediately brimmed with tears and his lip quivered before the child ran screaming back to the kitchen.

Virgil was sorely tempted to roll back over and hope he woke up somewhere quieter, but the smell of bacon and the temptation of seeing Remus in the daylight pushed him to his feet.

The guy he'd met in the bar had practically disappeared once Patton showed up. Remus had been flirty and suggestive and very interested in Virgil all night but nothing in his behavior would have ever led Virgil to suspect he had a kid and was capable of acting so.. fatherly. The man’s duality was almost unsettling.

Virgil walked over and stood in the door of the kitchen, silently watching Remus encouraging the weeping little boy to sit down and eat toast. He still wasn't sure why Patton had thought he would have a cat with him, but the disappointment had surely gotten to the little fella.

Remus looked up and gave Virgil a tired grin, "heya, sleeping beauty. How's your head?"

"Threatening to disown me. I didn’t touch him. He asked if I had a cat," Virgil nodded to Patton, hoping that Remus didn't think he'd purposefully hurt the kid.

"Oh don't worry. He asks everyone. His dad promised him one and well, do you see a litter box?" Remus rolled his eyes, standing and guiding Patton to the table, "you'd think after so many empty promises, the kid would know better, right?"

"Wait… you're his dad, right?" Virgil frowned.

"Nope!" Patton giggled, twirling his spoon between his fingers, "Dada lives in the big house!"

"Patton, eat your breakfast!" Remus barked, not unkindly before turning back to Virgil with a sigh, "no offense, but Patton’s dad is not exactly first date story material. Neither is Patton but well, that can't be helped now."

Virgil bit his lip, "right. None of my business… Except I shouldn't be here if you're married."

"I'm not married, sweetheart," Remus held up his hand to show off the lack of a ring.

"And this mystery father isn't… ya know," Virgil drew a finger across his throat in a wordless question.

"I fucking wish! Look, it's none of your damn business, Virgil. You want breakfast or the door?" Remus snapped, turning back to the food on the stove.

Virgil sighed and sat down next to Patton at the table, idly arranging shaped blocks in a haphazard pattern, "I'm sorry. I just don’t want to get in the middle of something complicated without knowing that's what's up. Yo, got another triangle for me, Pat?"

Patton grinned and grabbed a triangle from the table before shoving it somewhat painfully into Virgil’s palm. Remus watched the interaction and sighed overly dramatically.

"Hey, baby, why don't you go get dressed and pick out a movie?" Remus ruffled Patton’s hair, "no horror movies today though."

"Awwwww but I love the scary ones," Patton moped but obediently left the table.

Remus waited until Patton was out of sight before replying, "look, I don't have any secrets. I got nothing to hide. The only complicated thing right now is custody. My ex and I are separated and don't talk. Hell, I try to get him to pick Pattom up from Roman and Teddy's every chance I get. I love the little tyke but his dad pisses me off."

Virgil bit his lip, "that does not sound ideal."

Remus shook his head, "it's not. Like one day you're planning a wedding and processing an adoption, then before you know it you're divorced and fighting with the man you love for custody of the child he said made him sick to look at." Remus gritted his teeth, "Pat deserves so much better…"

Virgil nodded along with Remus’s story, "so why go out clubbing during your time with Patton? He doesn't need two absent fathers."

Remus chuckled, "don't freak out, but the first one of us who remarries has a huge advantage in getting full custody. Because neither of us is biologically related to Pat-Pat, it's become way too much of a battle.

"I'm sorry," Virgil whispered, studying the grain of the wood in the table.

"It's alright," Remus shrugged, "you're alright, Virge. Can I get that number now?"

Virgil laughed and took the offered phone, "yeah, call me when you've got some free time and Patton is with his dad."

Remus grinned and pocketed the phone, "oh you'll see how this works, sweetheart."

---

Patton was nearly a constant whenever Virgil met with Remus, but at least Roman had been mollified by Remus having a steady date so he and Teddy resumed babysitting during more adult dates. The Remus he'd met at the bar never quite resurfaced in the same way, sometimes the actual image of the tatted-up punk caring for a sweet little angelic-looking demon spawn of a kid took Virgil by surprise, and sometimes he was shocked with the things this man would say to his kid. Teddy constantly questioned Virgil why he had stayed even after learning more about the whole situation.

Virgil wasn't certain why. Patton had definitely tried to scare him off a few times. The kid was terrifying when he wanted to be.

But this little family was so very compelling, and Virgil was more and more certain with each date that he wanted a place in it.

"So, sugar…"

"Yeah, Rem?"

"I have a modest proposal for you-"

"Nope. Not gonna eat babies."

"Wha-?"

"Oh, shoot I thought for sure you were talking about the satirical essay. What's up, babe?" Virgil winced and turned to face Remus.

"How would you… like to start the process to become one of Patton’s legal guardians?"

"You're asking your boyfriend to adopt your kid who already has two dads?"

"Well yeah, because-"

"Because then the paperwork is ready to sign right after the wedding," Virgil interrupted with a grin, "you sneaky son of a biscuit!"

Remus laughed, "please, baby?"

"Not my call, sweetheart," Virgil smirked, "hey, Pattycake!"

Little feet pounded down the hallway, Patton skidding to a halt in the kitchen, "yeah? Prince Sparkles is in danger so this better be important!"

"You can save the Prince soon enough, kid. How would you feel-" Virgil suddenly felt very nervous as the gravity of the question finally hit him, "-how would you like… another dad?"

"Umm.. do I have to meet him?" Patton looked disappointed and confused.

"No, Pat-attack, Virgil is asking if he can be your dad too," Remus explained gently.

"You aren't already? I demand you be my dad this instant!" Patton bellowed at Virgil, pouting with the most betrayed expression he could muster.

Virgil laughed, "don't worry kid, this is just gonna be the paperwork that makes it official. You know I got you."

"Yay! New Dad! New Dad!" Patton beamed and ran around the table to dive into Virgil’s arms. Virgil caught him with a grunt and leaned into Remus.

"I think that's a yes from me," Virgil murmured

"Most excellent. Now I've got both my boys!" Remus grinned and wrapped both in a bear hug to seal the deal.

#dukexietyweek2021 #dukexiety #sanders sides #remus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #kid!patton #familial dukeality #familial intruality

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sockendrache · 3 years ago

Text

Animal Crossing Fangame-Rambling, idk

Been home from school today and playing ACNH and-

I was already burnt out before but its worse than I remember so watch me ramble about what I’d love to see in an Animal Crossing Game (which would probably make it less animal crossing and more like a stardew valley-animal crossing-cozy grove-bastard child-)

Just-

Give me a tiny city to rule over. I don’t want a big-ass island that I have to plan every inch of and move shit around to fit buildings in and decorate to make it look nice and if I don’t decorate it looks like I’m just a hobo squatting out on an island in the middle of the ocean catching bugs to a fukkn raccoon (cmon tell me that doesn’t sound like the fucking juice Nook gave you at the beginning was a drug)

Like- a mixture of City Folk and New Leaf. You’re a Mayor, you move into a tiny almost-abandoned city in the middle of bumfuck-nowhere, there’s a bunch of closed-down shops around, absolutely nothing’s going on, there’s only like three other villagers living there who are super fucking old and don’t want to sell their houses coz “I raised THIRTY kids in this house, I will NOT be moving out!!!” (in addition to that, give me more old-looking villagers. I want a senior-home filled with old dudes and dudettes like Doby just ranting about today’s youth and giving you terrible dating advice like “Back in my day we just threw bricks with notes glued on at each other” “Please don’t do that”)

And idk-

It’s just a fucking ghost-town when you first move in and the NPCs are all super depressed and don’t even fucking care anymore, Blathers damn-near has a heart attack when you first approach him cause he hasn’t seen a new face around town in forever. And basically- its just your quest to bring this town back to its former glory. Like- you actually have more power as the Mayor, not like in New Leaf where you could only build stuff (that you had to pay for yourself rip)

And at the beginning you can choose the town’s general aesthetic, like, Japanese, cottage, modern, cute, etc etc... and the more qests you get done the more the town gets restored and actually starts to look like this aesthetic. And no more villager-houses with a specific look, instead it’s just general houses that fit the town’s look or small apartments with multiple villagers living in them-

And when searching for a new villager you don’t have to wait for one to randomly move in or go island-hopping or pay a fortune for each one on nookazon, instead you just get like 10 applications every week until the town is full. You can choose one or multiple of them, or none at all and it gets reset the next day.

And give me some QUESTS!!! I love animal crossing so much, but it’s so frustrating to play if you don’t have your own goal set in mind for what you want to do, so you just run around and do nothing? Or is that just me rip

aNyWaYs- like stardew valley, just give me a quest-board where the villagers can ask for stuff or help them out in other ways, like “can someone help me redecorate my house?” or “I need a new look!” or stuff like that, and you can just change the villager’s interior design or give them a new set of clothes (in addition to that, give the villagers pants! are we fukkn disney or why do they only get to wear shirts and no pants)

And the museum has more stuff to donate to? Like, flowers and vegetables or stuff? Idk, just add a new npc that has you collect all kinds of flora and donate (also, rewards for donating!! my monkey-brain needs a REASON to donate and collect stuff. Stardew, it’s the rewards, Cozy Grove, it’s the rewards....) And you get a little garden or green-house and can plant stuff there, and not just flowers but vegetables, and when they’re grown you can donate the plant itself and a once-dead botanic area turns all green!!

aND TOPIC NPCS

Give me some new npcs to love!! Like- maybe give Melinda an assistant? Like, a bat or some other nocturnal animal??? And while Melinda has the day-shifts as your assistant, the Bat has the night-shifts so you can still do mayor-stuff at night and Melinda gets to have a break every once in a while. And Celeste will help Blathers in the museum again to bring back the stargazing-feature from CIty Folk??

And Timmy and Tommy are now teenagers that run Nook’s Cranny? Like- they’re more relaxed and chill now and don’t chase you around the store anymore, just stand there behind the register looking tired as ever. Maybe even give them little ear-piercings to show they’re rebels now, rip. And they’ll refer to Tom Nook as “Pops” or “Old Man”, and tell some stuff about their childhood when you just talk to them. And one of them could work at Redd’s on the weekend (also Redd, plz give him his own store that opens every weekend).... and Nook can be seen in his store every once in a while. They don’t admit it but Redd and Nook are now in couples’ therapy (Timmy and Tommy forced them and will reference it sometimes)

And pleeeease, give Timmy and Tommy some freetime. Like- Nook runs the store until 12pm until they take over and run it until closing. And on days where the shop is closed they can be seen walking around town and hanging out with the villagers.

And some cutscenes please T__T Like, only for the NPCs on holiday or so, but then you’d get to see Celeste and Blathers sitting in the park to stargaze whenever there’s a meteor-shower, or Melinda, your Player and her assistant sharing some hot cocoa on christmas, the Nooklings wishing Nook a happy father’s day, Nook and Redd going out on Valentine’s day.... Halloween has them all dress up, the Nooklings try to prank you while Nook takes over the store for the day... the Sable-sisters close their shop to go out and show off their handmade costumes.

The villagers already had hobbies in ACNH, like reading and nature or something.... but how about they reference these hobbies, and do stuff thats connected to that, other than staring at flowers and sitting under trees. Like, have them say how they went to their book-club in the next town and how they hate the long drive per train and then they ask you to fix up the library so that the town can have its own book-club? Or sporty villagers will talk about how they went swimming or jogging and got hurt because the old paths are all fucked and there’s no good way to enter/exit the lake, so they ask you to renovate the paths and build a little dock? Idk man, just- give them more personality! SOmething that makes me want to talk to them, not just so I can cross off ‘talking to villagers’ on my to-do-list

idk, a dump where an opposum lives and that teaches you diy-recipes. but instead of giving you cards you get a little clip of the oppossum and your player working at a diy-bench and if you know it already it offers to teach you something new until you learned everything, then it just sends you rare materials in the mail like “hey, thought you’d like this!”

this is all a dream, nintendo cant even give us the cafè, rip.

#acnh #animal crossing #fangame #rambling #dump #idea dump #ac

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aphelionbruise · 4 years ago

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on my knees begging forgive me for all i have done and failed to do knives in my gut men in back alleys waiting to pull me into them and say good girl when i do not scream i promised myself i would not scream every car on the road thinking about crashing into me just to prove a point gun to the temple needles choking peeling the skin from my body you say my name and i go slack i want you to hurt me to remind me i’m not worth it my heart beating my heart failing i know everything in me is dying i can feel it the cell decay how terrible my mouth and my lungs and my hands and my brain sick and rotting and someone asks me what i expected leaving the house looking like that what i expected leaving the house at all i stay in bed drinking vodka and cranberry juice shaking listening to sleigh bells crying waiting for someone to kill me or help me or lock me away and never let me out wait for someone to say you deserve this and then fuck me hard enough to break me which probably wouldn’t take that much actually and someone’s going to murder me take me apart pose my pieces so it’s still attractive sexy gruesome you can’t look away you have to keep looking i am watching the car crash i’m begging someone to knock me out because i don’t know how to exist i hate everything my body touches i hate touch i hate look i hate eyes vision being sober being drunk being alone i ask is it hot when i’m a danger to myself and some men say yes and if they came near me i would go limp be good be compliant let them get what they want i am too tired to fight i am too tired to get out of bed i am too tired i am so tired i am so sick i don’t know how to fix it

buy my book / donate to my ko-fi

#unedited poems that arent really poems tag

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irwinkitten · 4 years ago

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men of mayhem | a.i

notes: okay so we have some angst and you probably will cry reading this and i am so sorry warnings: minor character deaths, the angst in the aftermath, mentions of violence, a smidge of a fluff. word count: 4.1k

donate to my ko-fi

part one, part two

The roar of the bike was the dead giveaway—to Michelle—of who had just arrived, but she opened the door once the engine had been killed and practically flew at Ashton to greet him.

“Since you showed up on the bike, you’re fairly confident?” Michelle teased as she greeted Ashton with a kiss. He laughed.

“Cal is about to pull up with the truck. Luke is riding shotgun and Michael is on his bike with them. I might’ve tore ahead once I knew where I was.” He grinned cheekily. Almost as if to compound his words, a jeep pulled up, the roar of a bike following.

“Next time you wanna fuckin’ tear off, at least tell me where the fuck you’re heading! It’s a good job that I knew where her place was.” Calum snapped as he stepped out of the jeep.

“Sorry.” The grin on Ashton’s face was anything but.

Pulling herself free from Ashton’s grip, she half threw herself at Calum, earning a sharp laugh as he swung her around.

“Hi angel.” He grinned once she was down on her feet and she beamed up at him.

“Hi, you can’t be mad at him for racing ahead of you guys. You’ve visited enough times to know he was gonna do that.” Calum snorted.

“I fuckin’ can and will be mad at him. We’re protection detail and he doesn’t fuckin’ help by tearin’ off away from said fuckin’ protection detail.” Calum grouched before letting her go. “It’s nice to see you lookin’ good though sweetheart. Married life looks good on you, even if you can hardly see the fucker thanks to the assholes we’re hunting.” She laughed at that before greeting both Luke and Michael with strong hugs.

“Sure you don’t wanna run away with me, Chelle?” Luke teased, making her laugh as she pulled away, patting his cheeks.

Luke had truly grown into his looks, the stubble that graced his face added years onto the twenty four that he was. With blonde curls and a tall stature, broad shoulders as well, she knew he looked the part. She also knew that as much as he tried, even though he saw her as a sister, she wouldn’t even contemplate the idea. He wasn’t her type and they all knew it.

“As much as running away with a prince charming might be every other girl's dream, my dream is standing six feet away and glowering at you.” The pair of them turned to see the glare on Ashton’s face before he realised and his head fell back as he groaned.

“The fuckin’ pair of you.” He muttered and they both laughed before she indicated to her bags that were waiting on the steps.

“C’mon then boys. Three months of me before I’m back here for the last year of school. I wanna see my parents this millennia.” The four of them laughed before they started moving. Ashton picked up two bags whilst Calum got the third plus her suitcase.

Once they were in the car, Ashton handed Michelle her helmet and she smirked at him as she donned it before sliding on behind him, her arms winding tightly around him.

“Don’t play up sweetheart.” He warned her quietly, making her laugh as they started the drive back to Charming.

It was when they were on the last hour that Calum had overtaken Michael and Ashton, indicating for them to pull over.

“What’s going on?” Ashton called. Calum was yet to leave the jeep, the phone in his hand.

“It’s Anne-Marie, she’s fucking hysterical. Something about the Bulldogs.” Ashton swore.

“We need to hit the gas then. Try and tell her we’ll be there soon, less than an hour.” Calum relayed that before cutting the call and the engine roared to life once more. Michelle stayed quiet, trying to quell her anxiety that was slowly growing.

The Bulldogs were the reason why she had an escort to and from where she stayed in the city. They’d only been mild inconveniences at first, small irritations to SAMCRO. But over the last year, they had proved to everyone else that they were stepping up their game.

Members had been attacked, Opie and Juice having caught the worst of it on one of the easy runs Bert had them handle. Opie’s arms were still healing from the burns they’d inflicted and Juice had lost the majority of his left leg. It was certainly something that had made SAMCRO pay attention and the two Irwin’s refused to leave anything to chance.

With this knowledge, Ashton pushed the bike to its speed limit, with Calum and Michael pushing their own vehicles to their limits, cutting the drive time drastically. It felt like a ghost town as they sped through, roads quiet as they headed to the garages.

Bobby was waiting for them. His face fell when he noticed Michelle on the back of Ashton’s bike.

“What the fuck happened Bobby?” Ashton’s demand was met with an almost sheepish look before he glanced at Michelle sadly.

Panic was setting in now, overriding the anxiety.

“Bobby, where are my parents? Where’s Matty?” Her tone brokered no arguments and Bobby stepped forward, only for Ashton to stop him

“Bobby.”

“You need to go to the hospital. Now you’re here, I’ll follow after you.” Was all he said and the panic was threatening to overwhelm Michelle as Ashton climbed back onto the bike.

He didn’t bother waiting for Bobby, he was back on the road and weaving through the town to make it to the hospital. He was silently praying that it was a dream, that this would all be over when he woke up.

Assortments of bikes were outside of the hospital and once the bike was at a standstill, Michelle was off and running.

All she had to do was follow the trail of club members who didn’t move to stop her. It was only when Chibs spotted her, he stopped her from going further, his arms wrapped around to keep her in place.

But Michelle ignored that, struggling against him.

“Let me go, I need to know what happened!” She half shouted, trying to wrestle herself free from Chibs’ grip.

“Chibs, let her go.” The arms were gone but then she ran straight into Bert. His hands were firm on her shoulders, strong and unyielding as she struggled against his grip.

“Michelle.” His tone made her stop and look at him. And she studied his face closely. Bert was never someone who cried, in all the years she’d known him, he’d only ever cried once when Ashton had ended up in hospital when they were younger because he’d been caught in a crossfire.

But there were tears in his eyes and she shook her head before he even said anything.

“Don’t you dare! They’re fine! Tell me they’re okay Bert!” Her voice was increasing and he could only hold her tighter as she tried to pull away

“I’m so sorry lil’ lady. I can’t do that.” She wanted to pull away, to scream. But the air was lost from her lungs and her body stopped moving. She took in shaking gasps, her head spinning.

“There was an explosion. All three of them were home. You—you don’t want to see what’s left.” Her knees went weak and Bert had to steady her, his arms wrapping around to support her, keep her upright.

“They’re gone?” Her voice was quiet, a small tremble barely noticeable. She felt like a small child as she looked up to Bert, her eyes pleading with him to lie to her, to say it was a bad joke, to tell her that they were alive.

He glanced up to see Ashton as well as the other three trailing behind him, his son’s concerned gaze on his wife before Bert met her eyes once more.

“They’re gone. I’m so sorry.”

The agonising scream that escaped her had those within distance flinching at the sound. It was one which they’d all heard at one time in their lives. It was one that they’d never wanted to hear from someone who was close to them like Michelle was, but Ashton felt his heart shatter with theirs.

Bert helped her into Ashton’s arms, her body heavy as she cried. It didn’t take long for the older Irwin’s to guide the younger two to the family room, a couple of members standing guard as she tried to process what she’d been told, her chest aching in ways she’d never felt before.

The pain was paralysing.

It took the better part of an hour before Michelle could calm down enough to move of her own volition. Bert had tried to tell her something, but her brain had shut down. Information wouldn’t, couldn’t sink in for her.

Ashton had traded vehicles with Luke. The young blonde agreed to drive his friends bike back to the Club whilst he and Michelle rode with Michael. Words were lost as the coined youngsters of the Club watched an almost despondent Michelle being helped into the trucks cab.

Once they were behind sturdy locked doors, core members of the original club as well as Ashton, Calum, Luke, Michael and Michelle. It was certainly a first for someone’s old lady to be in the meeting, but with matching glares from both Ashton and Bert, no one was going to protest Michelle being there.

“Has it been confirmed that it was them?” Bert’s voice was dangerously low and all of them knew that the only answer he would accept was one of confirmation.

“We found the calling card. It was them.” Juice muttered and Michelle closed her eyes, trying to stop the pain.

“Did anyone do anything to antagonise them?” Bobby haltingly asked and Michelle sucked in a sharp breath, her gaze shifting to the older man.

“Why the fuck would any of your sorry asses antagonising them cause my family to get fucking murdered?” She snapped and to Bobby’s credit, he tried not to look away from her tear stained face.

“No one has antagonised. I don’t even know how it got out about your family since the only connection is—”

“Me.” The word was bitter from her lips, spat out in disgust as she cut Bert off.

“They’re hurting us by using those closest to us. It wasn’t exactly a secret when we got married, but it wasn’t gossiped about.” Ashton’s voice was quiet as he held her hand in his, thumb running gentle circles on the back of her hand.

“If they think they’re going to get away with this without some kind of retaliation—” Chibs snapped but then Michelle snorted, effectively halting his tirade.

Even in her pain filled daze, she took stock of who was in the room at that moment and it dawned on her faster than she’d liked to have admitted.

“You have a mole.” The silence answered her statement. “Then we play the long game. I go back in three months. Let me finish my studies. Build a name and then come back. Let me build up everything against them. Send them away one by one. One of the prisons will most likely hold someone they’ve pissed off. And even if they survive prison, they won’t survive a bullet to the brain.”

They were all reminded then that this girl grew up with them. She may have been loved, nurtured and cared for by her parents, but they had raised her. Taught her to defend herself, how to look at a situation for escape or exploitation.

Bert could see the benefits of her idea. They’d gain credibility, knowing people were less likely to attack if they had a viable way of getting them arrested and making the charges stick. She’d be their ace up the sleeve.

“It would mean that their killers would be walking around free for however long.” Chibs pointed out and she took a moment to take in a deep breath.

“If it means that I get to put a bullet in their head eventually, they can keep walking about on borrowed time. In the meantime, you need to plan something that would be considered retribution. The mole will be suspicious if there isn’t one.” She started off and they could all see how painful this was for her. “For the long term plan, they can know nothing. But the short term one, be exclusionary with those who want to avenge my—my parents and Matty.” Her voice trembled on her brother's name, the sharp agony in her chest making her close her eyes for a second to pull herself together. She took in a halting breath, determined to stop the sobs. But she had no control over her tears when she opened her eyes once more.

“They won’t argue that, if anything they’ll expect it.” Ashton confirmed to give her a moment to collect herself. “If the mole expects to be a part of the false plot, we can justify by saying that the Morgan’s were family longer than they’d been members. They won’t be able to argue or do anything because they’ll know but they won’t know the specifics. It’ll throw them off the long term goal.”

“I don’t care what they do, but for this retribution, no children. Just because Matty died, doesn’t give us the right to even the score. Be better than them.” None of the members could argue her logic or the pain filled tone and the meeting soon closed with the promise of meeting up to work out a new plan for the false retribution.

Michelle stayed at the Irwins that night, unable to sleep and partly terrified that she’d lose Anne-Marie and Bert as well.

She knew that Ashton was hurting as well, so being held by him eased the shared pain but it was only when she knew the house was asleep did he let his tears run free, holding onto her tightly as he buried his face into her neck and cried.

The rest of the week was almost surreal for Michelle. Once the house was stable, she was allowed to pack up what had survived the explosion. Anne-Marie offered to pack up her parents' things whilst she dealt with her little brothers. She could only nod.

She felt cheated out of enjoying her life with Matty around. Her parents, although not that old, they’d lived. They had the chance to enjoy life. He hadn’t.

Knowing that she couldn’t sit and go through it piece by piece, she swept everything into boxes. Ashton understood and helped her. Part of her felt wrong going through her eleven year old brother’s things, but she didn’t have much of a choice. It was hurting to see the way he’d obsessively kept any gift from her.

“What do you want to do with his clothes?” She felt that familiar stabbing pain in her chest.

“Just, get it all in a box. I’ll go through them—later.” The word was lodged in her throat for. Second and tears stung the corners of her eyes.

“Is Chibs trying to find anything salvageable in the kitchen?” Her voice was shaky, but Ashton didn’t comment on it as he put more clothes away.

“He left that to Bobby. He complained about it of course, but we all know that you’re Bobby’s favourite. Chibs is up in the attic. I remembered your mom saying about the family photos being stuck in the loft until they found time with you to go through them when you got older. Have something for the grandkids to look through.” His voice faltered.

She had to stop at his words, hands moving to press against her chest as if it could ease the pain that was running through her heart. Ashton was quick to abandon his job to wrap his arms around her, letting her bury her face into his jackets to muffle the sob.

His heart was breaking all over again.

It was only five minutes but Michelle pulled herself together, giving Ashton a tearful kiss in thanks before returning to getting his things packed away.

When they’d returned to the Irwin Household, Bert had quietly told Ashton that he and Anne-Marie were going to the club for a few hours.

“You know there’s no judgement from me. But I also know that she’s the only person you’ve ever let your guards down to. Grieve, son. Both of you.” He could only nod as they left.

It took him a moment before he made his way upstairs. Michelle had already come upstairs when they’d arrived home, unwilling to face anything else.

He crawled into bed once he was changed and she curled into him.

He’d never known something so cathartic. He knew she needed this too so there wasn’t a word of complaint as she clung to him, sobbing. Ashton didn’t hold back either.

The following morning was one where she woke up with no tears in her eyes, but the sadness hurt Ashton to see.

“We’ve got you sweet girl. I promise.” He murmured softly, pressing his lips to her forehead.

“Look at us, married and still under a set of parents' roof.” The joke fell flat but he knew she was trying.

“Unfortunately little miss lawyer, we can’t get a house till you’re all finished and moved back. However, I know that mom and dad have been saving up for retirement and I’ve managed to get us a good starting point as well.” The smile she gave him at putting the effort in for her, warmed his heart. “Come on. If we make it downstairs now, we might get some breakfast.”

When they got into the kitchen, both Anne-Marie and Bert were there. Anne-Marie stood at the stove and Bert sat at the table, reading the newspaper. She took a seat and the next moment a plate of food had been placed in front of her, followed by a kiss to the top of her head.

“Eat sweetheart.” She didn’t argue with Anne-Marie’s words, letting the conversation wash over her.

She knew that she needed to contact the university, she knew she needed to make decisions about the house as well. On top of that, there were funeral arrangements and contacting the school to collect anything of Matty’s.

“Lil’ lady?” Bert’s voice broke through her thoughts and she blinked before looking at both him and Ashton. She hadn't noticed that Anne-Marie had sat down as well.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear anything.”

“I was saying that Anne-Marie and I are arranging the funeral for them. Are there any preferences?” She blinked before feeling the tears bubble to the surface. Here they were, having practically adopted her into their own long before she’d married Ashton, taking charge so she didn’t have to.

“Not that I can think of. Is it—is it going to be a joint funeral?” Bert paused.

“Your parents, yes. They were some of those who were born, grew up and lived, and died in Charming. Matty’s will follow theirs, if only so his school friends can pay their respects. By all accounts, he was a popular kid.” Her bottom lip trembled as she nodded.

“Made friends anywhere he went.” She got out and took in a slow deep breath. “What’s been done?”

Bert knew what she meant with her question and paused before sighing.

“Anne-Marie contacted your parents' place of work as well as your brother's school. Since school is still in session, they made the announcement. They wanted you to contact them to arrange a time to collect his things.” She nodded.

“I expected that. I’ll need to contact the university and my job so they know that there’s things going on.

“Let me handle it.” Michelle was surprised at his tone. It was unrelenting and not something she was faced with often.

“I can do it, it’ll be fine.” Bert shook his head.

“Michelle Irwin you listen to me right now.” His tone was firm and she paused, eyeing him warily. He’d never used her full married name before. “You are not by yourself. You married into this family and this family is going to do the hard work so that you can grieve. You don’t need the potential stress from them. You are going to stay here with your husband and plan what you want to do when you move back. Okay?”

She couldn’t help but stare at him in shock. It was the first time that he’d been so firm with her. But she nodded.

“Family looks out for our own sweetheart. Mom and dad have told us that for years.” Ashton’s voice was gentle with his reminder and she could feel her emotions getting overwhelmed.

“I just, never really thought that it was going to extend to something like this. I know they were your friends too but, you don’t need to do this.” There were tears in her eyes and Bert’s face softened.

“You’re my daughter too lil’ lady. There’s no “in-law” on it. You’re family.” She gave him a tearful smile in return as he pushed away from the table.

He walked around to her side and pressed a kiss to the top of her head before moving over to Anne-Marie, a softer kiss being left on her lips before he headed out.

“Do you want to stay here?” Ashton’s question was gentle and her lips curved up slightly.

“Would you mind helping, momma?” The smile on Anne-Marie’s lips told Michelle that the title was okay and she nodded.

“Of course sweetheart. Why don’t you two get dressed up in case you want to get out and we’ll start the ball rolling.”

They were both changed within ten minutes and back downstairs. Anne-Marie has some paperwork with her.

“This is from the fire department. It’s the structure of the house and options. I went ahead and got some quotes for you from different companies as well. It’s entirely your choice as to what you do.” Michelle nodded in thanks as they sat back down at the—now cleared—kitchen table.

All three of them went through the paperwork, rejecting the ones which set the price too high and ones that they weren’t too sure about.

“If we remodelled the upstairs into three bedrooms and then the fourth can be used as office space...?” She trailed off in uncertainty, glancing at Ashton.

“What are you thinking, doll?”

“Maybe, if we get it remodelled upstairs, keep how downstairs was, this could be our home...” The smile he wore on his lips at that, made her muscles release in relief.

“And when we’re ready to move in, the problem should’ve been solved so we wouldn’t have to worry. And it gives us time to heal.” His fingers took hold of her hand, lifting her knuckles to the back of his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin.

“I take it I’m missing something here?” Anne-Marie's amused tone and Ashton gave his mother a winning smile.

“My beautiful and clever wife has solved our problem of moving out. It wasn’t going to really happen until she came home after graduation and got a couple of years under her belt. However if we remodelled the upstairs, leaving the downstairs how it used to be, the house is in her name now, we’d be able to move in.”

“We wouldn’t be able to move in until I’m back for good. He’d be too much of a target as it is.” Michelle added and Anne-Marie smirked.

“So it’s going to be a ruse. Maybe make a point of a ‘sold’ sign out front. It’s going to sit empty for a while so people won’t really care. Then once it’s safe for the both of you, move in and start working on grandbabies?” The hopeful tone was also a teasing one, making Michelle give her a strained smile.

She was trying.

“Definitely grandbabies at that point. The land around it is enough that we could build an extension. So if we have more than two, we won’t need to move.” Ashton grinned at her words and Anne-Marie laughed.

“Alright. I’ll get in touch with an old school friend of mine. She went into interior design and will be able to give us a rough idea of how the rooms should be. I take it you want upstairs changed so you’re not living a constant reminder?” There was no judgement in her tone.

“That obvious, huh?” Anne-Marie shook her head.

“Only to those that know you, sweetheart.”

“Yeah. I want to live there and make new memories but also be able to tell our children about the memories that we had growing up, like when Ashton skinned his knees on the kitchen tiles after sliding on them because pops thought it would be funny to tell him it was easy to do.” The small smile she gave Anne-Marie said a lot as Ashton playfully whined at the tale.

“He had me convinced! I was eight!” This made both women laugh and it was like something had broken between the three of them, the laughter a signal that it was okay to talk about her parents, to rediscover those memories.

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