#the Twins are his tormentors

[red-room-studi0]

I'll give u guys uhhhh $5 if u can guess who he was inspired from hehe (lies)

[lucisfavoritedemon]

Through The Portal: Chapter 4

Chapter Summary: Ford must talk Y/n down from making a rash decision. Both must face their tormentor head on.

Pairing(s): Stan x reader (platonic present, romantic past), Ford x reader, Dipper x best friend!reader, Mabel x best friend!reader Bill x reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of hopelessness, torture, mental manipulation, PTSD, unrequited love, flashbacks.

A/N: The events and ideas are based on a theory I have about the Nightmare Realm. This is in no way canonically true, just my theories based on what we canonically know about the Nightmare Realm.

“What!? Are you crazy? I would never even think about doing that to you!” Ford was frantic, he really couldn’t believe I just blurted that out so casually.

“Using the memory gun and erasing the thoughts of Bill, and what I saw and went through in the Night Realm, it might just work. I’m willing to make that sacrifice if it means keeping the rift safe.”

“No! That’s not even an option on my radar.”

“I’m aware, that’s why I’m making it an option.”

“No. I’m not doing that. I care about you too much to erase your memories all willy-nilly like that.”

“It’s not willy-nilly, Ford. I know what I’m asking of you and I know it’s a hard decision but…”

“A hard decision!? It’s an impossible decision that I am refusing to make. I’m not gonna do it, and neither are you. End of discussion.”

I sigh, “may I ask why?”

“Because, if I erased your memory of your time in there and your memories of Bill…you’d forget who I am.”

His words struck me. Was this Ford’s weird way of hinting at something? I shook the thoughts away. Ford and I had been through a lot when it came to Bill, and maybe he finally felt like someone truly understood him fully. He wouldn’t come out and say it, but he was scared of being the outcast he felt he always was.

“Okay, I’m sorry I asked.”

“It’s okay. As long as you promise never ask me to do that again.”

I nod, “is there anything else you need from me?”

Ford shook his head, “you can head back upstairs. I just felt like you should know what I found. You and I are of like minds and we both know how evil Bill truly is.”

I nod, “okay, if you need anything from me, you know where to find me.”

We shared an understanding look for each other before I walked back upstairs where the twins started to bombard me with questions and stories again. It felt nice that they were accepting of me into their life.

The next couple of weeks were interesting. Dipper and Ford told me about their adventure playing Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons that was then brought to life because Stan had thrown their dice, making the infinity sided die to roll out of its case. I enjoyed them sharing their adventure with me as I tried to make sense of my night terrors as Mabel called them.

The following week I helped the twins help Stan run for Mayor of Gravity Falls. I supported him 100% as the Stan I knew back in 1973 would have made a great mayor. I didn’t realise how much he had changed, or what little knowledge he had on politics. Still, I was happy to support him no matter what. After saving the kids, he was elected mayor by getting the birdly kiss from the mayor picking eagle. Little did I know Stan had a very extensive criminal record. I guess people do really change more than you realize.

I knew the adventure this week, though, was going to be interesting. I was fast asleep when all of a sudden I was in the middle of the nightmare realm. I feared it was another nightmare, then suddenly it morphed to where I was standing in the middle of a field.

“Y/n?” I heard Ford’s voice call out.

I turned around and saw him standing there, “Ford?”

“Wh-what are you doing here?”

That’s when we heard the malicious laugh of Bill Cipher. It was no coincidence Ford and I were here. Bill had a plan for us. Big plans.

“Well, well, well, well, well, well, well, well, aren’t you two a sight for sore eye. Stanford Filbrick Pines, my ol’ pal. And, could this be, my sweetheart? Y/n? I think it is.”

“Bill Cipher. What do you want from us?” Ford asked, pulling me behind him.

“Oh quit playing dumb, IQ. You two knew I’d be back. You think shutting down that portal can stop what I have planned. I’ve been making deals, chatting with old friends, preparing for the big day. You can’t keep that rift safe forever. You’ll slip up and when you do…” Bill then shows us a tear leading from our world to the nightmare realm, and I feel like I’m gonna puke.

“Get out of here! You have no dominion in our world!” Ford yelled at Bill, keeping a protective hand on me.”

“Maybe not right now, but things change, Stanford Pines,” Bill’s voice morphs into a creepy deep one, “things change.” He then rises into the tears laughing maniacally.

I shoot up screaming. Scared out of my mind. Bill was coming, and I was utterly terrified. The thought of actually facing Bill scared the shit out of me. Bill was someone I never wanted to actually face ever again. The fact that he appeared to Ford and I meant he was growing stronger and stronger with each passing day. That was the thing that scared me the most.

The next morning I could barely get out of bed. I sat there lost in thought, I was unable to fall back asleep after our meeting with Bill. I heard Ford call for a family meeting and I gathered all the courage I could muster and walked downstairs.

“Y-Y/n? Are you alright?” Ford asked, looking at me concerned.

“I’m scared, worried, I didn’t go back to sleep last night if that’s what you mean.” I stated.

Ford felt terrible I had gotten dragged into this, but little does he know I did it to myself. Bill’s infatuation with us was no coincidence.

“Ooh, mysterious scrolls and potions. Are you going to tell us we’re finally of age to go to wizard school? Is there an owl in this bag?” Mabel asked hopping in a chair and started to go through the bag Ford had on the table.

“No, I assure you if there is an owl in this bag, he’s long dead.” Ford took the bag from her.

Dipper and her sat down as I stood behind Ford. He pulled out a scroll paper and showed it to the kids, “Now, tell me children, do any of you recognize this symbol?” He holds up a scroll with Bill on it.

They both gasp before Dipper speaks, “Bill.”

“Y-You know him?” Ford was shocked, and so was I.

“Know him!? He’s been terrorizing us all summer. I have so many questions and theories.” Dipper spoke frantically.

“Dipper’s been pretty paranoid since Bill turned him into a living sock puppet.” Mabel added.

“The important thing is, we defeated him twice.” Dipper interjected.

“Once with kittens, and once with tickles.”

“It was a lot more heroic than it sounds.”

I looked at Ford concerned about the kids. This was serious, the fact they have faced Bill. It means he now has access to their minds, especially Dipper. Ford looked back at me with the same concerned look.

“The fact you have dealt with Bill is gravely serious.” Ford spoke up.

“So, how do you know Bill?” Dipper questioned. I knew I wasn’t ready to talk about that yet, and I knew Ford wasn’t ready either.

“Y/n and I have encountered many dark beings in our time, Dipper. What matters now is, his powers are growing stronger, and if he pulls off his plans, no one in this family will be safe.”

I wanted to punch Ford for confirming my suspicions. He was never good at comforting, so I don’t blame him entirely, but I didn’t want those to be confirmed. Neither did the kids as they gasped at what Ford just stated.

“Fortunately there should be a way to shield us from his mental tricks.” He unrolls a map onto the table, and grabs a marker, “a way to Bill-proof the shack. All I have to do is place moonstones here, here, here, and here, “he draws circles on the map, “sprinkle some mercury, and let’s see. I always forget the last ingredient.” He flips through Journal 1, “ugh. unicorn hair.”

“That’s not, like, rare, is it?” Dipper asks.

“It’s hopeless. Unicorns reside deep within an enchanted glade, and their hairs can only be obtained by a pure, good-hearted person who goes on a magical quest to find them.”

Mabel began screaming at the top of her lungs. She begged Ford to let her go on this quest to get the hair. Naming everything she has done that proves that she is obsessed with unicorns. Then she mentions that she is probably the most good-hearted person in the room. No one argues with her about that. Ford agrees to let her go, giving her the journal and a crossbow.

“Y/n, you wanna come with me and the girls on this quest?”

“I actually need Y/n here with Dipper and I.” Ford answers before I can say anything.

Mabel shrugs and calls her friends and sets off on the quest for unicorn hair. Ford leads Dipper and I down to the second floor of the basement. A place neither of us have seen yet.

“If we can’t Bill-proof the shack, we’re going to have to do the next best thing. We’re gonna have to Bill-proof our minds.” Ford pulls out a device that strangely looks like a torture device.

Ford begins to turn the machine on and places the metal helmet on Dipper’s head. This must have been the device Ford wanted to use on me a couple weeks ago, but worried my mind would still be vulnerable to his torment because of my dreams.

“So, what is Bill exactly?” Dipper questions.

“No one knows for sure. Accounts differ of his true motivations and origins. I know he is older than our galaxy, and far more twisted.”

“No kidding…” I mumble, still traumatized from my extra time with him in the nightmare realm.

Ford gives a sympathetic look before he continues, “not a physical form, he can only project himself through our thoughts through the mindscape. That’s why he wants this.” Ford holds up the rift, “I dismantled the portal, but with this tear, Bill still has a way into our reality. To get his hands on this rift, he would trick or possess anyone.”

“So how do we keep Bill out of our minds?” Dipper inquired.

“There are a number of ways I personally had a metal plate installed in my head.” Dipper doesn’t believe him, so Ford taps his head proving he does, “but this machine is safer. It will scan your mind, biologically encrypting your thoughts so Bill can’t read them.” Ford switches the screen on, “now, say hello to your thoughts.”

Dipper thoughts play across the screen. Some are interesting, others are utterly embarrassing. I felt bad that his poor thoughts were on display for us.

“By the way, you two never told me what your history with Bill was.”

“Dipper, do you trust us?” Ford asks, and he nods, “then you’ll trust that’s not important. Now, focus. It's time to strengthen your mind.”

The three of us sit there for hours as the machine slowly encrypts Dipper’s thoughts. I look over at Ford who has fallen asleep at his desk. “Must be nice to be able to sleep anywhere…or at all…”

“What’s been going on with you lately by the way? You’re more distant and paranoid, especially today.”

“It’s Bill. He scares the heck out of me. The thought of coming face to face with him in a physical form terrifies me.”

“S-so you had a bad experience with Bill too, huh?”

“I-it wasn’t always like that, Dipper…Bill and I were actually very close…then I got a true peak at what he really wanted…on the other side of my portal…he tortured me…Ford and Stan won’t be happy I am telling you this, but you and Mabel were going to find out eventually…”

“W-Wait, your portal? Y-you didn’t go through with Great Uncle Ford?”

I shake my head, “no…I had made my own. I found an old book in my parents' attic. They used to be Anti-Cipherites, or descendants of some. A group looking to take down Bill. It had an encryption on how to summon him. I did, and that night he appeared to me. He showed me his equation, he tricked me with his flattery, saying I didn’t need school or friends. Helping him would give me everything I ever wanted. Including helping my friend so he could finally go home before his brother left for college….that friend was your Uncle Stan…”

Dipper's eyes widened, “h-how old are you then?”

“Technically 61, but the place I was stuck in has no concept of time, so I never really aged…”

Dipper’s jaw dropped, “s-so you knew Grunkle Stan before he was banned from New Jersey?”

I nodded, “Stan lived with me.”

[bbgliker-teehee]

Warning: long rant

OK, so before the series premiered, I had a sudden thought. How will the humans-turned-angels feel about the sinners going to Heaven? The more I thought about it, the more I realised that Charlie's plan may not be as good as we believed. Yes, she has good intentions, but it may have consequences. Let me explain!

So, let's take Angel Dust as an example. When he was alive his was Anthony. He had a twin sister, Molly, an older brother, Araknis (I think, we don't know his actual name), and his parents. Anthony was (and still is) a drug addict AND he was part of the mafia, alongside his brother and father. What does that mean? He killed people. Both bad and good. And we've seen that Angel takes pleasure in killing. He thinks it's fun.

Which is why I got annoyed when Emily asked: "Yeah, why isn't he here in here (in Heaven)?

I was like: "Oh, I don't Em. Maybe because he was in the mafia and killed people!"

I can imagine that Angel and his family have a lot of enemies in Hell who constantly want to take revenge (it would have been very interesting to include that in the show). And the innocent people that Angel, in his previous life, killed are now in Heaven, away from all worries, all the pain and away from the people who hurt and killed them. Now, let's say that Angel gets redeemed and goes to Heaven. He and Molly will reunite happily (and maybe his mom is also there). But I don't think some people will be happy to see him. Heaven was supposed to be a place of eternal peace, and to see your killer, now living in the same paradise as you do, shatters this peace. The angels will be like: "Why is he here? Isn't he supposed to be Hell for his crimes? Why did you let him in Heaven? Are all our murderers and tormentors will be living alongside us now?" etc. That will cause panic, paranoia and anger among the residents of Haven. They will demand answers from they superiors (the ones who were supposed to protect them from all evil) and will want Angel to go back to Hell, where he belongs. They may even take matters into their own hands and kill Angel. And they will lose faith in God, his angels and their judgment. Imagine an uprising. God will cast the rebels out of Heaven and will become fallen angels and end up in Hell. It will be even more populated than before.

So, yeah. End of my long rant.😅 Sorry if I have some grammar errors, English is not my first language. What do you think about all that I have written? Does it make sense or is it a bunch of nonsense?

I think if Angel ever gets to heaven Viv would probably just make a "HA HA OMG THIS IS SOOOOOO AWKWARD😁😋😁😋😁😋😁" to all the innocent souls he's killed, even tho we both know that it'll be traumatic for them....BUT HEY TRAUMA IS ONLY IMPORTANT WHEN IT'S ANGEL'S TRAUMA!!!!!/s

[thehollowwriter]

Summary: After the events of Ashes, Finn has an encounter with Blaze, who makes it his business to harass him. (Blaze also projects a lot). Word count: 1603

Warnings: Bullying, fatphobia, name calling, swearing, Blaze is really fucking mean, blood, violence, gore(???)

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤️)

Bait

Finn felt like he was spiralling. There was a hole in his heart, a pit in his stomach, a well of sadness that wouldn't go away.

His fight with Azul had been circling in his head for days. Every time he felt he might be over it, the memories sprang up once again as if they were brand new.

At first, Finn was simply hurt. He may have even shed a few tears. But then, after replaying the whole ordeal over and over in his mind, that sharp, fiery feeling of anger settled over him.

How dare Azul? How dare he, after everything Finn has done for him? Stuck with him through thick and thin, chased off his bullies, showered him in compliments, loved him with all his heart, helped him start his stupid lounge... only now, it seemed trivial. Worthless, in Azul's eyes.

The sadness and anger swirled together to create a damning mass of too much emotion. Finn was petty and, if he were to be honest with himself, mean.

Azul was trying to make it up to him. He at least seemed to regret what be said, but Finn wasn't having it. As Azul tried to fix things, Finn found himself talking before he could stop himself, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Sorry, Mister Ashengrotto, I'm afraid I have clubs with Malleus-senpai today. Oh, don't worry, I'll be sure to tell him to compliment you. Will that satisfy you? I'll even be quiet myself since what I have to say is worthless to you."

"Mister Ashengrotto, I don't have time for art galleries. Vil-senpai is helping me plan a diet. ...Yes, of course I need it. You made that quite clear."

He really wanted to go to that art gallery.

Every time Finn said "Mister Ashengrotto" instead of "Azul," "love"," "My love", "darling" and so on, Azul would flinch and go quiet.

An ugly part of Finn, deep down, took pleasure in that reaction.

The twins, caught in the middle of this whole debacle, flip-flopped between waiting to see what would happen and trying to to solve the issue.

It was a fruitless effort. Finn was unwilling to let things be fixed. He was too angry, hurt too deeply, to allow it.

This, of course, left him in a constant bad mood. If he were as powerful as Malleus, a thunderstorm would have descended upon the school.

Other students avoided him even more than usual, giving him a wide berth. Nobody wanted to risk passing him off further.

Well, nobody except one.

"There you are, pipsqueak."

The sound of that familiar posh, snobbish voice made Finn suck in a breath and tighten his grip on his books. He continued down the hall at a quick pace, ignoring his tormentor the best he could. He was not in the mood for this.

"Hey! I'm talking to you." A large, bony hand gripped his shoulder and forcefully turned him around until he faced a pair of bright yellow eyes.

"For a guy who acts so polite, you're really rude, you know." Said Blaze Dugal with a crooked grin. "You answer and look at someone when they're talking to you. It's basic manners."

He paused.

"Do you know basic manners? You grew up pretty wild."

Finn pried Blaze's hand off his shoulder and glared at his. "I'm afraid I'm not in the mood, Dugal. Go waste your time elsewhere."

"I'm afraid I'm not in the mood, Dugal. Go waste your time elsewhere." Blaze mocked with a laugh, his voice shrill. "Still trying to sound all fancy and clever, I see. All collected, even though your weird, cringy friendship with Azul is toast."

Finn narrowed his eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Blaze scoffed loudly and rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. Azul'a got his tentacles in a knot trying to do you favours left and right, and you're acting like a kicked puppy. Anyone with a brain can see it a mile away."

Finn's nostrils flared, but he decided not give Blaze the satisfaction of a response and stepped back to leave. However, he was stopped by the very unwelcome feeling of Blaze draping himself over him

"So, what caused trouble in paradise? What did he say? Did he finally let slip what a parasite you are? Tell you he doesn't actually need you for anything?"

Blaze would always bait Finn like this, hoping to get the reaction he wanted in some way or other.

"Keep spitballing, maybe after the next few hundred guesses you'll hit the target." Finn snapped, immediately failing at ignoring Blaze. He didn't have the patience to act all together.

"Oh, snappy today. So he did say something bad. Was I right, then? Did he finally tell you how little use you actually have?"

Bait. It's bait.

"No."

'"Really? Are you sure?" Blaze asked sweetly. "I wouldn't blame him if he did say that. What do you do, exactly? Gather information? Jade, Floyd, heck, all of you octavinelle freaks do that. Keep staff and customers in line? Anybody in their second year could do that. Take someone's form? Steal a voice? Potions can do that. That creep of a first year in your dorm can do that. Tell me, Finn, why does Azul even keep you around?"

The bait was dangling.

"I don't have to explain anything to you." Finn hissed.

Blaze sighed. "Ah, true. I get it. Really, I do. If I were you, I wouldn't want to think about why someone I admire so greatly even bothered to keep me around, either. Especially of my presence reminds me of the version of him he hates so much."

"Shut up!" Finn snarled, and a nearby window cracked.

Every single time he took that bait, like a stupid little fish.

Blaze pressed his forefingers together and then pressed them against his lips, smiling innocently.

"So that's what he said, then? Finally got honest about how all of this," He reached down and poked Finn's flabby, pudgy stomach for emphasis. "-is nothing but a reminder of everything he hated about himself?"

"I-"

"Oh!" Blaze pulled a face like he had a sudden revalation. "Maybe that's why he keeps you around. As a reminder of what he was. An encouragement to keep counting those calories. He must hate that gross, flabby body of yours."

"He doesn't."

'He doesn't.' Finn assured himself. 'He loves me. He loves me.'

"It must hurt, right? For someone you adore so much, someone you bend over backwards for, because really, Finn, you don't have a spine when it comes to Azul, to be so disgusted by you. For him to think you're ugly."

'No. Azul- Azul loves me. He wouldn't-"

A memory from that awful night sprang forth.

"Do you really think being fat makes you ugly?" Finn asked, his voice so quie Azul almost couldn't hear.

Azul hesitated.

'No, no, no, no. Azul wouldn't think that. Azul doesn't think that. Azul doesn't find him gross or disgusting.

Does he?

"Guess you two aren't as tight as you thought."

For someone with no claws or fangs to speak of, Blaze's grin was awfully predatory.

Finn stomped on his foot and elbowed in him the stomach and the drew back with a yelp. He stumbled back a few steps, angry at first, but then that grin returned, and he laughed.

"Guess I hit a nerve. You aren't gonna come and butcher me, are you?"

"You're not even worth the effort." Finn spat with as much venom as he could muster. "You won. Leave me alone and harass someone else."

"Come on now, that's no fun." Blaze drawled, closing the short distance between them once again and draping his arm over Finn's shoulder.

"You're my favourite person to mess with. That's the highest compliment you'll ever get from me, you know. There's not much about you deserving of compliments. Makes me wonder why Azul let's himself be seen interacting with you. You're a real blow to his reputation. I-"

Blaze was abruptly cut off by Finn suddenly turning his head and biting down on Blaze's arm as hard as possible.

Blaze screamed and frantically ripped his arm away, but that only made it worse.

Blood dripped down his arm onto the floor in thick rivulets, and the spot where his blazer, shirt, and a piece of flesh had been torn off was drenched red.

"Ow ow ow, what the fuck-"

As Blaze screeched in a mix of rage and pain, Finn spat out what was missing from about 3cm of Blaze's arm, and it hit the floor with a wet "splat". The taste of fabric, flesh, and blood was a terrible combination.

"Fuck, you shitty little parasite!" Blaze roared, his eyes bulging. "What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

Finn simply sent a bloody smile his way, turned around, and began walking down the hallway.

"Hey! HEY! GET BACK HERE! I'M GONNA REPORT YOU FOR THIS YOU FUCKING PARASITIC WELP! DO YOU HEAR ME?"

Finn didn't respond. Blaze could complain all he liked (after a hospital visit, of course), but since this hallway had no cameras, he had no proof apart from a bite that could have come from anyone or anything. Finn made sure not to make it look like a circle.

Finn smiled to himself as he wandered to his music class, though Blaze's screams were all the music he needed.

He was finally feeling a bit better.

-End

..........................................

A/N: Ty so much for reading! I'm actually surprised at how mean I managed to make Blaze I'm usually not good at that sort of thing

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @am0nline @1dont-really-know

@kazumify @minteasketches @ramshacklerumble @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @the-banana-0verlord @skriblee-ksk @quartztwst (if you don't mind being tagged in stories) @poisoned-pearls

[avesque]

THE GREAT WAR I: bruised like violets — tsu’tey

— when accompanying dr. augustine, norm spellman, and jake sully to explore the pandoran forest, you and sully become separated from the group. you barely survive the night before a na’vi woman rescues you.

INCLUDES fem!reader, dreamwalker!reader. mentions of tom’s (jake’s twin) medical history and death + his (purely platonic! brotherly!) relationship with reader, near death experiences. 3.7k words.

NOTE my knuckles were WHAT? 🎤 for the sake of this fic and my sanity, let us pretend time dilation is not a thing because that complicates all sense of logic in this fic’s timeline.

SERIES MASTERLIST | part ii

The familiar darkness of the link unit’s space shrouds you as you open your eyes, mind still reeling despite your countless ventures in your Avatar. Pushing the link’s cover open, you slowly sit up, wiping the sweat lining your forehead.

Dr. Max Patel greets you with a clipboard in hand.

“Grace is waiting for you.”

Your eyebrows jump. “Did she see me and Txur’ii shoot Sari seeds at the other kids again?”

Dr. Patel steps back, gasping, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You said you’d stop doing that!”

“They started picking on him again!”

Txuri’ii is the Na’vi kid you almost plowed into the first time you tested your Avatar. He’s smaller compared to other Na’vi boys his age; a little thinner than usual too. It’s the reason you didn’t immediately see him that first time. He’s grown to be the source of entertainment for the other Na’vi kids, picking on him and bullying him.

When you learned of this, you dragged the kid and gathered all uncollected Sari seeds you could find. Borrowing two straws from the lab, you then hid behind the bushes as you preyed on Txur’ii’s tormentors.

You showed him as you stuffed the Sari seeds in your mouth and brought the straw to your lips. As the tallest of the bullies turns his back in your direction, you blow a seed through the straw, hitting the kid on his nape.

Txur’ii’s delighted squeak almost gave away your hiding spot.

One time, Dr. Augustine caught you and Txur’ii, and she berated you like a little kid when you got back in the lab.

You jump down the link unit, fixing your rumpled up shirt. You bid Dr. Patel goodbye, squashing down your smile with a finger to your lips and an obnoxious “shh.”

There’s a familiar face in Dr. Augustine’s vicinity. You stop short in your tracks, squinting your eyes as if that will help you understand the situation better.

You glide your palms over the edges of tables as you wade closer to where he’s talking with Dr. Augustine and Spellman in a wheelchair.

Last you heard, he’d been caught in a mugging incident. No one wanted to talk to you about it and the rumors you’ve heard said he was in a coma.

You suppose those were that — rumors, since he’s here, in the flesh, right in front of you. But what the hell happened?

“Tommy?”

You seem to have interrupted Dr. Augustine’s litany. All three of them turn their heads toward you and you get a perfect view of his face. He looks so different; definitely a lot more mature with the scruff. With your eyes trained on Tommy, you don’t see Spellman’s forlorn gaze as the realization dawns upon him.

“It’s — Jake, actually,” Tommy says. He offers a hand to you. “Jake Sully.”

Jake Sully.

Your eyes flit back to the head scientist, noting the way her eyes are quite softer than usual. Her cigarette hangs forgotten between her fingers.

“Another Sully?” you murmur. You recall Tommy mentioning a twin brother back when you were still on Earth but never meeting him in person.

He has exactly the same features as him but he doesn’t have Tommy’s calm and friendly aura. You don’t know if that’s the reason he kind of irks you suddenly or it’s something else.

You prop your hands to your waist, looking around. “Where’s Tommy? Has he recovered?” He hasn’t returned your video calls. Just last week, you tried contacting him again, hoping he’s woken up. All you received was an automated response, which made sense if he was traveling halfway through the solar system in cryo, though you would have preferred if he sent you a little heads up.

Jake Sully’s eyebrows reconnect, quizzically looking at the two scientists before saying, “Tommy’s dead.”

A sigh is caught in your throat. You want to ask him to repeat that but if you once again hear what you thought you just heard, you don’t know how you’ll be able to take it.

“Right.” You clear your throat, swallowing the lump that’s making your eyes burn. “Yeah, of course, I knew that.”

The sarcasm makes the dents in his forehead deeper, tilting his head to the side as he watches you.

“How do you—?”

“I gotta get back,” you suddenly announce, already walking away. You don’t bother sparing them another glance as you walk out of the laboratory, a lone tear trailing down your cheek. You’re quick to put your exopack on, a humorless chuckle escaping your lips at the betrayal choking you the way not even the Pandoran air could.

You’re evasive of the other scientists for the past week. Even in your Avatar form, you avoid any interaction with Dr. Augustine and other Avatar drivers.

Their silence about Tommy’s death makes something ugly curl in your stomach. You haven’t seen him since you were 14. Your stubborn mind refuses to accept what Jake Sully said about Tommy because that is just impossible. If anyone deserves to live the longest life they could on this godforsaken moon, or even back there on Earth, it would have been Tommy.

Tommy, who you basically grew up with. Despite being under the Colonel’s wing, there still wasn’t much to life. It was only then that Tommy started hanging out with you did you come out of your shell.

“Y/N!”

Dr. Patel’s familiar voice cuts through your peace. He jogs over to you, worn clipboard in hand. You don’t think he has ever put that thing down. It looks three seconds away from disintegrating.

“Grace is looking for you.”

You say nothing but follow the scientist back to the lab. Inside, you see Jake Sully, Dr. Augustine, and Spellman huddled together.

Dr. Augustine greets you before gesturing towards Sully. “Marine’s coming with us.”

You raise your eyebrows, making an effort to not look at any of them.

“For the research,” she adds. “Norm’s coming too.”

You say nothing as you move and get ready, settling in your own unit. You see Spellman give Dr. Augustine a withering look and you roll your eyes.

To your left is the other Sully’s link unit. You watch as he methodically hauls himself up the machine, lifting his upper body first before hooking his arms under his knees to position his legs.

As you settle and close your eyes, you wonder how he ended up like that.

Spellman’s excited chatter grates at your ears. Tommy used to be like that. It was what you bonded over in the first place. And usually, you’d be more than happy to be out here with Dr. Augustine but you’ve been off-kilter ever since Jake Sully ceremoniously dropped the news.

The forest of Pandora is still a wonder to you despite residing here for the past six years. Though Dr. Augustine had been here much longer than you have, her stacks of files are endless about the Pandoran flora and fauna. It seems like the moon spits out new species every single day.

You huff as the two scientists crouch over a braid of roots, injecting a needle to see the synapses transmit on the small screen Spellman holds. You turn around and realize Sully is nowhere to be found.

Your company is too preoccupied with their discovery so you leave them be, following the ruffles of footsteps against fallen leaves. Pulling back a giant leaf, it reveals Jake Sully tapping away on a bunch of Helicoradian plants.

You don’t make yourself known, watching from the sidelines as a smile spreads across the man’s face. Sully is more… tolerable, you’d say, in his Avatar form. Though the aura you cannot place is still emanating off him, he also has that air of innocence.

You startle as the walls of Helicoradian vanish from his ministrations and instead reveal a crash of Hammerhead Titanotheres, one of which notices your acquaintance and releases a loud cry. They’re like giant rhinoceros, a spattering of blue and purple with thick armor.

You curse under your breath, stepping forward to get closer to him but still hidden from the animal.

“Don’t shoot!” you bark when you notice him grip his gun, finger on the trigger. “Don’t you dare shoot, Sully! That’s got armor thicker than your skull.”

The Titanotheres rakes its foot on the forest floor before charging, letting out another cry, leaving a flurry of dust in its wake. You’re helpless and frozen on your spot as Jake Sully stands his ground, leveling the giant’s cry with a shout of his own.

This seems to deter the animal, skidding to a stop. You think it whimpers. Sully is as surprised as you.

“You son of a bitch!” he spits. He huffs out a laugh and you grimace at the air of arrogance surrounding him. He spews out some more nonsense as the Titanotheres cowers and scurries away… until you hear something worse than a Titanotheres.

Behind Jake Sully stands a Thanator. Its cry pierces the air, sending shivers down your spine.

“Okay, now, what do I do?” The marine asks, gauging the animal. “What do I do?”

Oh, you’d beg Eywa to bring that Titanotheres back.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you grit out. “Run!”

Jake Sully runs, abandoning all sense of dignity as he sprints — toward you. The Thanator charges and chases Sully and you have no choice but to run too, unless you want to be a predator’s lunch. You hear a distant, “what the hell is going on?” from Dr. Augustine as you run past her and a wide-eyed Spellman.

In your head, you’re cursing Sully in the darkest pits of hell. You are not fit for running. Your lungs strain as you fight to breathe, legs already aching and you pray to all the gods you know that your ankles will not give out on you this time.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Sully chants. The Thanator growls and you think you can feel it breathing just behind your neck.

“There!” Sully points to an uprooted tree. You don’t question his decision, partly because you don’t have a choice. The two of you burrow under the thick roots, dirt on your hands and knees as you try to crawl further down the shallow hole.

The animal roars, sending a giant claw in your direction. You try not to scream as the roots practically disintegrate on its assault, a shower of wood falling over your heads. Jake Sully tugs on your hand, moving out of your hiding spot and taking off again.

“This is your fault,” you wheeze out, greens and blues flying by your peripheral. “Stupid shit.”

He doesn’t hear you or maybe chooses to ignore you. You don’t care. If you weren’t on the brink of death, you’d kill Jake Sully with your bare hands.

“We gotta jump!” He shouts over his shoulder.

Though there is a giant deadly animal chasing your asses, you skid to a stop, making the marine stumble.

“No.”

He ignores you again, pulling on your wrist hard enough to pop it. The Thanator unleashes another cry, sounding closer than ever.

“We jump on three!”

It’s then you hear the wild splashes of water. You’re running head on on the edge of a cliff. You’re going to die and Jake Sully is the last person you’ll see. It’s enough to make you want to cry.

“One!”

“No!” You try to pull your wrist free from his hold but his grip only tightens.

“Two!”

“I said no!”

“Three!”

“I can’t swim!”

You don’t jump.

Jake Sully does.

But he hasn’t let go of you. His momentum drags you along and you’re free falling to your death first and sinking beneath the waters next. During your fall, Sully’s hold on you disappeared. Your chest tightens in more ways than one.

The panic creeps in and your lungs constrict as you take a deep breath, choking on water and going blind in hysteria. You thrash, mind reeling and trying to open your eyes but between the choking and the drowning and the dying, you can’t find it in you to think.

Something wraps beneath your arms and pulls. You break out of the surface, sputtering and blinking away the water, to find Jake Sully in front of you.

“Hey, hey,” he shakes your arms. Stray strands from his braids are clinging to his face. “Are you okay?”

You hear a faint cry from above, the Thanator peering down at you.

“Can we—?” you cough, eyes stinging and nose burning. “Can we get out of the water first?”

Sully hauls you off the river and into land. You fall to your knees and heave, getting water out of your system. Your clothes are drenched and you assume he lost his gun along the way. There might be no Thanators here but the forest still isn’t safe.

You shudder, running a palm over your face to get rid of the rivulets. It’s no use since your palms are wet.

“This is your fault,” you say again, glaring at the man shaking his arms as if it will dry his clothes faster. Whatever vulnerability you showed when he pulled you out was already gone. “If your stupid little ass didn’t wander off, we won’t be here right now.”

“Hey,” he protests, walking over to where you are, boots leaving behind a damp trail. “I just saved your ass back there.”

“Okay, and?”

Sully blows out a breath. You can see the frustration seeping through his façade.

“Get up, we need to find our way back.”

You roll your eyes but don’t protest, knowing he’s right. He doesn’t bother to help you up as he walks away and you don’t bother calling his name as you stagger behind, sniffling and coughing still.

Trekking the forest is much harder with your clothes sticking to you uncomfortably. You’ve never explored this part so it was much harder to navigate, though Jake Sully doesn’t seem as worried as you are. Your legs are tired and your nose still has not recovered from the water you inhaled. You’d love nothing more than to be back in your human form and actually breathe.

It’s nearing eclipse and the two of you are still deep in the forest. Your clothes have not fully dried but not as damp as before but as night creeps closer, the temperature slowly drops and you shiver every now and then.

“We won’t make it back to camp in time,” you say, pushing back leaves in your way. Sully, ever the gentleman, doesn’t so much as help you jump over rocks, letting you clamber your way up like a soaked baby koala.

“No shit.”

“You are so fucking annoying.”

Sully huffs, turning around to look at you. “So are you.”

You jab a finger in his direction, growing more aggravated each passing second. “Shut the fuck up. If it wasn’t for your sorry, stupid as fuck fucking ass, we won’t be here, okay? We could be back in the lab right now — I could be back in the lab right now and resting on that very stupid and inconvenient bunk but no! I am stuck here with you of all people!”

“Hey—”

“I could have died and it would have been your fault.”

Jake Sully stops and you try to swallow the emotions, try to stop the burning sensation behind your eyelids. You are far more collected than that, far more articulate and definitely far more level-headed if it were a better day but you nearly died. Every breath still hurts your lungs and your body aches in places you never thought it could hurt.

He holds up a hand between you, as if conjuring up some healthy boundaries. You think he looks a little conflicted and it’s a fresh look on him.

“Listen kid.” Oh, you hate that condescending tone. “You and I, we need to work together, alright? If you wanna survive, you follow what I say. You don’t want to? Okay—” he makes a grand gesture of spreading his arm, as if giving you liberty, “—I’ll leave you out here to really die. Your choice.”

You scowl at him, fighting the urge to just reach up and grab at his face and squeeze so hard his eyeballs would pop out. But between the two of you, it’s the marine who knows more about survival skills than you ever could so you comply, grumbling after him in the darkness.

“This better not include more cliff jumping,” you remark, kicking pebbles along the way.

“We need to make a fire,” he announces. You stare at his back, wondering if he hit his head when you jumped off.

“How the fuck are we going to do that?”

“Do you have matches?”

You mutter some more nasty comments as you tap on your clothes, checking the pockets. You find a box of it on a pouch on your chest, pulling it out to find it dripping.

“Well,” you hold it between your fingers, watching as water drips, drips, drips on the dirt, “isn’t that lovely.”

Jake Sully curses, searching his pockets. He stills when a growl comes from behind the bushes, and the sound glues you to your spot. You unconsciously take a step toward him, listening intently as he mutters a silent victory, fishing out a lighter.

“Quick, rip a seam off your shirt.” He’s already plucking dry branches off a plant to his left.

“What?”

“We need to make a fire.”

You tug uselessly on the flap of your shirt. “How is this going to help?”

Sully stares at you with wide eyes, his jaw clenched. “Fucking Christ,” he shoves a branch on your hands and grips your clothes. You gasp as he rips a good portion of your polo, leaving you in tattered cargo and an undershirt. “You won’t survive a day out here.”

You push the stupid branch back on his palms. “I wasn’t made to survive here, I’m a scientist. If I asked you what a Loreyu is, you wouldn’t know a single shit about it too.”

He ignores you. You watch as he ties the fabric on the end of the stick, dipping it on a curved leaf that has collected sap. He hands it to you before doing the same thing to his own piece of clothing and stick.

He flicks the lighter on and brings it to the saturated fabric. It catches fire immediately and you see a lot better now.

Another growl resonates, closer this time. Sully says nothing else as he grabs your wrist, torches in hand, and runs.

It seems all you’re meant to do this day is run and to be frank, you don’t think you have it in you to do so. Your legs give out as you reach a clearing, a pond shimmering in the night. It is a pain to admit but you’re thankful for Sully’s grip on you or else you would have dug your face on the forest floor.

“Shit, kid—”

“I’m alright,” you heave, dragging your feet so you’re kneeling. “I’m alright.”

Your reprieve is short-lived when something pounces behind you. You choke back a scream, ignoring the twitching pain on your ankle and scrambling to stand up. There’s a blur of black dancing in your peripheral and soon, there’s a whole pack of them surrounding you.

Jake Sully snarls, swishing his torch in a wide arc. You do the same, your back glued to his, your heart beating an erratic rhythm in your chest.

“Viperwolves,” you say.

“How do we kill it?”

“I don’t know!” You thrust your weapon forward as another one of them attempts to jump on you. “With a gun?”

“We don’t have a gun,” he grunts.

“As if I don—”

You scream as a Viperwolf pounces on you, sending you skittering away from your partner. Your torch is nowhere in sight and you’re far too panicked to think straight. Its large mouth is right at your face, sharp teeth inches away from your face.

This is it. Six years on this moon and you meet your fate like this. What a gruesome, sad ending. You don’t bother fighting, closing your eyes and flinching as it lets out a snarl before attacking you.

The pain never came.

You think you hear something, hear it whimper and the others scuttle off, but Jake Sully is already dragging you away.

There’s a ringing in your ears and his voice sounds so far away but your eyes are clear. You see him so vividly. Tommy.

“Hey, hey.” He makes a show of snapping his fingers to your left, to your right. “Talk to me, come on.”

It was the same thing he said when you almost drowned in a pool back on Earth. You were eight and stupid, taking a dip unsupervised, feeling like such an adult as you tried to imitate the others who were learning to swim as a part of their Avatar Training Program.

Tommy had found you nearly unconscious, calling and shouting for anyone as he rubbed and slapped at your back, throwing up water.

“Hey,” he had said, wiping away water on your face, “talk to me, come on.”

You had burst into tears right then, clinging to him and never letting go until you fell asleep. For a long time, he had been the only safe place you ever knew and seeing him in Jake Sully in the same situation makes your throat close up.

“M’fine,” you warble. You don’t see the woman who saved you speaking softly as she holds a palm to the Viperwolf that nearly bit your head off.

When you hear faint footsteps retreating, you think Jake Sully has left you out here, but he’s crouched over your form, looking over his shoulder.

He pushes you up despite your protests, shy of dragging you on the dirt by your arms. He’s got a hold on your wrist again, dragging you through the forest again. It is disorienting, all of it. From being chased by a Thanator, jumping off a cliff and nearly drowning, to being attacked by a Viperwolf — paired with your fatigued body, your knees rattle as you blindly follow Sully.

You hear him talking, a string of slurred words. The forest is melting, a spiral of blues and greens, until your vision vignettes and there’s nothing at all.

MORE NOTES when i said this was a slow burn, i wasn’t planning on this slow. but! our boy tsu’tey will finally show up in the next chapter. i’m just happy how we’ve slowly opened reader’s relationships with other characters, and here’s to unraveling them while building up new ones!

TAGLIST @cullenswife @hannibalelijah @neytemsgf @syviiss @katsukiswrld @lovekeeho

[srslyblvck]

dark echoes, the umbrella academy

pairing: hargreeves siblings x sibling!reader

synopsis: you are ben's twin sister. after he was murdered, you were never yourself. you were on the brink of madness when your brother who was considered dead comes back asking for your help to stop an apocalypse.

warnings: suicide and suicidal thoughts, drugs, alcohol consumption(not in a healthy way)

author's note: alright, this was an impulse decision. my first series here, lets see if i continue it lol

word count: 0.6k

chapters: 1/?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ YOU COULDN'T REMEMBER THE last time you saw the sun. It had been years since your twin brother Ben was killed, and every day since was a blur of shadowed memories and endless pain. You hadn’t moved on; you couldn’t. The echoes of his absence haunted you, made worse by the voice in your head that never stopped. The other you—your darkest thoughts—was always there, gnawing at your sanity.

No matter how much alcohol you drank or how many pills you took, the voice stayed. It felt like your mind was a prison with a warden who never gave you a break. It was maddening, like being tied to a tormentor who sometimes took over your body, making you watch helplessly as it carried out its dark desires.

You tried hard to act normal, but it was exhausting. When you did go outside, you felt like a stranger in your own life. You’d walk around, feeling like people were watching you, or glance at your reflection in shop windows and be shocked by how different you looked. Your world, once full of colour, had turned grey and unchanging.

Your job used to be a place where you could escape your inner pain. But now, it just added to your misery. The paperwork stacked up, deadlines loomed, and your coworkers seemed distant. What used to make you proud now felt like another trap you couldn’t escape.

The only thing that offered a temporary escape was the haze of drugs and alcohol, but even that couldn’t quiet the relentless voice in your head. Every bit of peace felt stolen, leaving only your torment. You’d sit in the dark, the TV flickering, too tired to turn it off. Your life had become a series of dull days and empty routines, and even the job you once cared about felt like a burden. You felt like a burden.

Your siblings didn’t know. They couldn’t. They saw only the surface, the mask you wore to hide the suffering inside. Your eyes were hollow, your face thin. You didn’t need a mirror to see that you were a shadow of who you once were. But you didn’t want them to see you like this. The pain was yours to bear alone.

In your grief, the pills were a temporary relief, but they never silenced the voice completely. It only got louder when you tried to stop using them, a constant reminder of your pain. You had tried to end it all more than once, but each time, the voice took over and stopped you. It was as if you were doomed to live in despair.

You had seen the news about Reginald Hargreeves, your father's death. The man who had orchestrated so much of the pain in your life had finally met his end. You wished you could have been the one to deliver that final blow, to exact the revenge you had longed for. The thought of him lying in a casket brought a dark satisfaction, but it was fleeting. The funeral was to be held soon, and you had no intention of attending. You didn't want to face your siblings, to see them mourn the man who had taken so much from you.

On the day of the funeral, you were sprawled on your couch, having taken more pills than you could count. The numbing haze of the drugs clung to you, but you were still awake, lying in a stupor. It was during this disorienting state that you heard it—a faint shuffling coming from the kitchen. Your instincts, sharpened by years of vigilance, kicked in. You summoned a knife with a golden hue, its beauty masking its lethal purpose.

You moved towards the kitchen with slow, deliberate steps, the voice in your head urging you to be cautious. It was as if it knew something you didn’t.

As you rounded the corner, you saw him. The figure in the kitchen was unmistakable. A boy, maybe around five feet three inches tall, with messy hair falling into his eyes. He wore the Academy uniform, the sight of which haunted your dreams. Even through the fog of the drugs, you recognised him instantly.

Time seemed to freeze. The knife in your hand vanished into thin air. You took a shaky step forward and whispered, “Five?”

[underfaller]

I grow maddened. 

Rating: T Bill Cipher/ Ford Pines Word Count: 1.5k

I grow maddened. 

Stanford races away from the town until the cobblestone path turns into thick snow. The words circle around his skull, over and over-- a broken record that plays into his increasing insanity. As he stumbles through the woods, his vision lurches; Ford swears that all the dark trees have familiar, yellow eyes, watching every step he makes. 

Watching. Waiting. Ready to devour him right then and there. 

The townspeople all have Bill's eyes. They’re all watching me. I can’t trust them. 

In Gravity Falls, you can trust no one. That isn't a problem-- Stanford Filbrick Pines has no one. 

He barges into his cabin, fumbling with the door’s (multiple) locks before sinking to the floor, back against the hardwood. Ford clutches his right eye. It’s agonizing. Thick blood drips from the organ, sliding down his fingers as he sits, half panting, half sobbing, and fully delirious. 

My muse was a monster. I was a puppet.

Ford stands up, storming through his empty home, still clutching his wounded eye. Blind. I was so blind! How could I have been so stupid? He’s hurt. Betrayed. And furious at himself. 

Ford tears off at the golden tapestries that adorn every corner of the cabin. He shatters every crystal prism until his boots crunch against glass that litters the floor like iridescent snow. Still, he cannot shake his delirium. 

‘Sixer, it’ll eat you alive.’

He’s exhausted, yet he can’t sleep. When Ford even closes his eyes a bit longer than usual, his vision dances with triangles and he snaps them open in a panic. No, he can’t possibly sleep knowing who he’ll see in his dreams.  

But Ford doesn’t know how much longer he can stay awake. He’s growing desperate. He wonders if this is all worth it.

I grow maddened.  

Stanford’s never considered suicide but in his misery and fatigue, the blissful peace of eternal sleep is tempting.Even rabid animals gain the respite of death, surely, Ford reckons, he deserves that much. 

Or do my failures make me less than an animal? 

Ford wonders if he should leave a note. It would certainly be in character-- Stanford always needed to have the last word.

But who would even read it?

Not F. His former partner is probably already in  Palo Alto, enjoying his doting family without even a sliver of thought about Ford or their former dreams. 

Not his brother. How long has it even been? It must have been over ten years since Ford saw him. He envisions his twin’s face-- identical to his own despite their opposite personalities and paths in life. 

Was I too harsh on him all those years ago? 

Would he even care?

Perhaps, his old muse and his current tormentor. Though, Stanford’s suicide note would be more of a white flag than a triumphant last statement. Bill would certainly be amused by his former devotee’s fate. 

Stanford Filbrick Pines has no one. 

Ford makes his way up to the attic.

Perhaps this is the most logical course of action. 

He plans every step in his life yet the one to end it is one done most spontaneously. 

If I do this one thing by myself, will it finally be of my own accord--my own freedom? Or am I still being pulled by his strings?

Ford is in no mental state to pursue such theoreticals now. 

After some fenangling, he undoes his tie and stands atop a rickety chair begging to be kicked over. A red noose hangs over his head, its shadow looming over Stanford like Death. 

Watching. Waiting. Ready to devour him right then and there. 

Stanford looks down. On the floor is a pair of knitted gloves. He made sure to take them off before tying his noose. He closes his eyes. 

He doesn’t see Bill. Instead he sees Fiddleford. Then Stanley. 

They make him hesitate. 

“Ha… hahaha!” 

Stanford’s stomach lurches as his vision doubles. A wave of nausea washes over him before all he can feel is pain and panic and as he grapples for something-- anything-- he only falls further into blackness. 

When Stanford opens his eyes once more, he’s met by his muse. He hovers in front of him with a smug grin. 

“Hiya, Stanford! Watcha doin’?” 

He’s paralyzed in mid air but can still muster words filled with malice. 

“Get out of my head.” 

“Why? So you can continue trying to kill yourself? You’re so dramatic, Fordsy!” 

Bill lets out a shrill laugh; it makes Stanford’s ears ring. 

“I said get out of my head!” Ford shouts. 

Bill stops laughing. There’s a short silence. It feels like an eternity in this pitch darkness. Bill shrugs, raising an eyebrow. 

“Fine, if you want to die so badly, let me help!” 

“Wait-” 

Ford’s body suddenly goes limp, his mind goes slack. Fear overcomes him. 

“Have you forgotten? You’re my puppet.” Bill stumbles around in Ford’s body, giggling. He watches in horror as Bill puppeteers his body off the chair, towards the window. He throws it open, exposing himself to the freezing, winter temperatures. 

“I can do whatever I please with this meat puppet and you, well, you’re just here for the ride! So relax, Sixer, and enjoy the show!”

Even from his mental prison, Ford feels the biting January snow against his skin. 

“Let go of me, Bill! Our deal is off! Get out of my body! Get out of my-” 

“Mind? You first, IQ!” Bill taunts. “Do you think I’d let you go so easily? No, no. Silly Stanford, you’re mine. From now until eternity!” 

Bill takes in a deep breath and exhales, clouds forming from his hot breath. He looks down. 

It's a long way down. 

“Now this is the way to go! Not with some half baked noose made out of your own tie. No, no, my Sixer deserves a spectacular death! Haha!” 

Ford watches in horror as his body teeters over the snowy ledge. He tries to fight the darkness but he’s paralyzed, at the mercy of Bill’s control. 

“What was it again? Ad astra per aspera?” Bill shouts into the icy wind. He cackles maniacally. “Well you better start flapping, Icarus!” 

Ford tries to summon even an ounce of willpower to stop Bill’s possession of his body. He’d never beg aloud for anything. He’d never grovel to Bill Cipher for his meager life. 

But Bill hears all of his thoughts. 

Stop Bill. Please stop. 

Bill laughs aloud.  “Aww…Scared to die? Don’t get cold feet now!” 

Ford’s suffocating. His mind is swimming. His vision swarms. He can’t breathe. 

He needs control but he’s not in control. He never was. 

I am going to die. I’m going to really die here. 

He’s being buried alive in this void. Still, he chokes, 

“Why? I thought you still needed me to turn the portal on?” 

His muse shushes him with a hand wave.

“Can’t a demon help his old partner out? Call it an act of divine benevolence.” 

Bill’s simpering voice makes Ford shiver. He tries to protest further, but he can’t speak. He thinks of Fiddleford. 

He thinks of Stanley. 

He thinks of Shermie. 

He thinks of his mother. 

I am really never going to see them again. 

I still- 

Bill snaps his fingers and everything goes dark for Ford. As he prepares to throw Ford’s helpless body off the window’s ledge, he suddenly stops. Silence. The wind howls. Bill slowly steps back. 

“Ya know Sixer, I could completely wipe your memory with a snap of my fingers. Make you this petty revenge. You could be my little human pet for all of eternity! Wouldn’t that be much better than whatever this is?” 

He examines Stanford’s body in a mirror. Yellow eyes glint back at Bill. This is the optimal Ford. Too bad his little pet didn’t see eye to eye anymore. 

“But it wouldn't be that much fun, would it? At least for me. It’s not the same when I force you to worship me.” 

Ford is still incapacitated but Bill continues. Bill furrows his brow. He sighs. 

“You were such a devout worshiper. You’re actually adorable! Not to mention, very useful-- and a freak of nature to boot! We were the perfect duo! Though I suppose that’s come to an end…” 

Bill laughs bitterly. 

“If you were any of my other henchmen. Oho--you'd be a splatter on the wall right now! It’s ridiculous how difficult it is for me to actually kill you.”

L kdyh ixoo frqwuro ryhu brx, bhw, vrphwlphv, L ihho olnh brx’uh wkh rqh zlwk wkh vwulqjv.

Bill looks at the open window one last time before his smirk returns. 

“You'll come around in time, ” He says. “Eventually. For now, keep futilely struggling. I'll just wait. I have all of time to wait.” 

Bill snaps his fingers again. Ford is once again in his body. The hallucination is over. He looks around wildly. 

“Either way, this party is far from over so don’t go offing yourself yet!” Bill's voice calls. “If you do, I might have to get your twin involved-- and you probably don’t want that.” 

Silence once more. The sun is rising. Ford stands in the middle of the empty room, his heart in his throat.  

As dawn arrives, a soft, golden light shines upon him through a single, triangular window.

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Always There - Chapter Eighteen - S.Snape

Summary: Y/N Potter was left with a baby to care for after her brother and sister-in-law were murdered by Voldemort. One person was there for her, a person she didn’t expect but soon became her comfort person, Severus Snape. During Harry’s third year at Hogwarts and her third year as Herbology professor, a few old friends come around again. Y/N has to handle the feelings of these old friends being around again as well as handle her feelings for a certain potions master all while she tries to hide these things from her godson.

Series Masterlist

My full Masterlist

Pairings: Severus Snape x Female Professor Reader, Potter!Reader x friend!Remus, Sister!Reader x James Potter, Potter!Reader x Friend!Sirius

Chapter Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader(No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, Harry growing up in a loving home, mentions of Voldemort, Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius' Death, Umbridge, Death, not proofread,

Series Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader (No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, OOC Snape, Harry grows up in a loving environment, mentions of death and murder, poorly written angst, Remus is a shitty friend, poorly written pining,

Please let me know how I can improve my writing and being more inclusive to POC as I am whiter than white. Please also let me know if I have to add more to the warnings! My messages are open as well as my asks!

I am starting a taglist so leave either a comment or something in my asks if you would like to be tagged in any of my works or just this series!

Author's Note: It's been awhile but I'm back! I'm finally getting out of my writing slump! I was half asleep writing this but enjoy! Let me know if there are ANY errors!

Please let me know how I can improve or if you find any errors! Correct me, don't be afraid to! I want to improve my writing and become a better writer so any feedback or advise is welcomed!

Word Count: 1183

dividers are @firefly-graphics

My asks are open for questions, suggestions and feedback!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

It was a few days later meaning that it was Christmas. Arthur had been released from Saint Mungo’s and everyone was packing in at the Black house. There was almost no space around the house for everyone, the kids hiding out in Harry’s room, the twins spending most of their time in the kitchen with Severus talking about new recipes, Y/N spending her time in the living room with Remus and Sirius and the rest of the Weasley clan was doting on Arthur since his return.

Christmas came and went, as did the New Year, time felt like it was flying. Everyone was back at Hogwarts, getting ready for the start of the new term. Y/N getting her lectures and plants ready for her upcoming lessons and Severus getting his lectures and ingredients ready for his upcoming lessons. On top of his lessons he was also doing private occlumency lessons with Harry, trying to get him to close his mind to Voldemort. However, instead, Harry got a look inside of Severus’ memories. Memories that he tended to hide from himself and future wife, memories of his tormentors from Hogwarts.

“Get out,” Severus said lowly after Harry had entered his mind.

“I never knew my dad was that horrible to you Uncle Sev,” Harry admitted.

“Just please get out,” The man practically begged, “I just need a minute, okay?”

“I’m sorry.”

So Harry did as his uncle requested, he left the room and gave him the space he needed. The boy waited outside the door until Severus opened it and motioned the boy to come back in. They tried again and again but every time Severus was able to get into Harry’s mind. His memories still filled with his aunt and his friends. Happy memories had overtaken the not so happy ones. Harry had managed to get into Severus’s head once more, this time it was a flash of his Aunt’s smiling face, him as a baby in his aunt’s arms, his aunt hysterically sobbing with a crying Harry in her arms, his aunt as a teenager with a bright smile on her face. 

He wasn’t surprised to see his aunt in Severus’ memory, she was about to get married to the man but he wasn’t expecting to see the memory of his aunt sobbing with him as a baby on his uncle’s doorstep. “Uncle Sev, that memory of Aunt Y/N crying with me as a baby, how old was I?” He asked innocently.

“You were 1, she had a rough day, it was your father’s birthday, the first birthday after his death,” Severus told him, “She came to my house because you wouldn’t stop crying and she couldn’t stop crying. She needed a break for a little while just to breathe so I took you for a bit to give her room.”

“Thank you for taking care of us.”

“Of course, my boy. Off to bed, we’ll continue tomorrow.”

The term passed with little to no issue other than decree after decree, that was until Umbridge caught wind of the DA in the room of requirement. Her and her little gang of snitches found their way to the room, blowing their way through with magic. Every single student in the DA had received an Umbridge special detention. The professors first heard about Albus escaping with Fawkes and then about the mass detention given to the students. 

Her heart raced as she tried to find her nephew after the detention let out, but she couldn’t find him. “Shit!” She cursed aloud before remembering the map. She ran to her office where she kept the map stored after Harry used it to spy on her and Severus. “I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good!” She rushed out to the map. She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. That feeling was correct because of her nephew’s name with Hermione, Ron, Umbridge and her inquisitorial squad in the dreaded toad’s office. “Mischief managed.” She shoved the map back into the desk drawer before running to Umbridge’s office. 

She arrived right after Severus did, huffing and puffing as she saw Harry being held still by one of the other students, her mind racing and not registering who it was. “He’s got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!” Harry yelled out.

Her heart dropped once more, keeping her emotions in tact but keeping a sharp eye on her nephew. “Harry, you know you are not supposed to come in here! How dare you break into a professor’s office,” She lightly scolded the boy, he knew just by her tone that she was not upset. “Professor, go easy on them please. Harry just had a bad dream is all, they were just trying to make him feel better, right?”

“Yes ma’am,” Ron and Hermione said in unison.

“If you say so, professor. I will take care of these three.”

Y/N grabbed Severus’ hand, the couple walked out calmly before breaking out into a sprint to get to a piece of parchment, a quill and an owl. “I will head over there, send a message to the order! Be safe, I love you!” She rushed out, planting a firm but sloppy kiss to his lips before running off. Severus quickly wrote off a letter, notifying the order and the ministry of what was happening at the ministry. 

Y/N had found a working floo network, flooing into 12 Grimmauld place. To her surprise, she found Sirius and Remus making out on the couch. She awkwardly cleared her throat alerting the couple to her presence.

“Holy shit!” Sirius shouted in surprise as he threw Remus off of him and onto the floor.

“That hurt! Merlin Sirius! It’s just Y/-Wait what are you doing here? Why do you have that look on your face like something’s wrong?” Remus noticed the expression she was wearing.

“Because I think Voldemort realized the connection and used it against Harry. We need to get to the ministry before the kids get hurt! Sev already sent a letter to the rest of the order, let’s just go please!” She rushed out. The two men scrambled to get up, following her out of the house so they can apparate together. By the time they got there, Harry was surrounded by death eaters, his friends being held by even more death eaters.

“Get away from my nephew you greasy haired fuck!” She shouted at Lucius, blasting a basic cast at him.

She was then targeted by Bellatrix Lestrange, spells getting thrown at her left and right. “Expelliarmus!” She shouted, pointing her wand at the frizzy haired woman. Bellatrix protected herself from the spell before throwing one of her own.

“Crucio!” A green burst of light flew at her, getting reflected by the protego spell. The woman death eater disappeared before apparating onto a rock, throwing the killing curse at Sirius, hitting the man straight in the heart. 

“No!” She screamed, watching as her best friend fell backwards into Veil. She had watched another brother die all over again.

taglist

@acupnoodle @chxelsxaa @fluffyrat365 @fanficwriter5 @atanukileaf @jspidey5 @mija-novella @leo4242564 @crazyunsexycool @livillain00 @bigsimperika @nopedefe

[thee-horny-thicky]

Can we please get sanyu’s birth in fes? 🙏

Thank you!

Ask and you shall receive! I cross posted this on AO3, and that one has a NSFW beginning. Anyway, enjoy!

You seemed unable to have an easy labor. Jona arrived when Suguru was out of town, with only the twins to help you give birth to your baby. He’d come into this world silent and breathless, making you fear he’d been stillborn. That wasn’t the case, and now, you had a lively toddler on your hands. You hoped his sibling would be just as lively in a few years, that the inopportune moment of their birth wouldn’t impact their health. Unlike your first birth, Suguru was present, and you had a medical team he’d handpicked at your disposal, but Sanyu was still weeks too early.

A painful contraction had you screaming, and Suguru muttered a swear under his breath. He hadn’t left your side, and you swore you saw fear in his eyes. You were scared, too. The contractions were more agonizing than you expected, and the sight of blood intensified your worst fears. You’d lost track of time and desperately wanted the baby to be out of you.

“Do something,” he snapped at the midwife, who was running around preparing for Sanyu’s arrival and ensuring your comfort.

“I’m doing all that could be done,” she replied, exasperation creeping into her tone. “I can only do so much since she insisted on having a home birth.”

If you were in your right mind, you’d scoff at her statement. If it were up to you, you would’ve been childless until your 30s, with a doula at your side as you gave birth in a hospital. Instead, at 21, you were stuck in a home you never wanted, giving birth to your second child, and the adopted mother of two little girls who had a blind allegiance to your tormentor and a feud with your eldest.

“Don’t blame her for this shit,” Suguru hissed, his tone possessing a dangerous lilt that was all too familiar to you.

Before the situation became bloodier than it already was, you grabbed his hand and squeezed. Surprise flickered across his face, as you rarely initiated contact with him. However, it had the desired effect, and he quickly refocused on you,

“I’m here,” he said, something about his statement relieving you.

Shit.

Have you finally developed Stockholm Syndrome? That must be the crappiest push gift known to man. His gentleness must be throwing you off kilter. Yeah, that was it. It’s difficult to believe that the same man who made your life miserable these past few years could be so sweet and caring, and your tired mind couldn’t comprehend it.

The thought of liking Suguru made your anxiety spike. As you felt the beginnings of the umpteenth contraction, you began using your favorite breathing technique. Breathe in for four seconds, hold your breath for seven seconds, and exhale for eight. When you recovered from the latest round of torture, the midwife peered between your legs, spread wide open for easy viewing. After prodding, she nodded and straightened.

“You’re eleven centimeters dilated now,” she said, her tone gentler than the one she used with Suguru. “You’re ready to start pushing now.”

Joy.

******

An eternity later, any phantom feelings you felt for Suguru had disappeared. Push after push had you sweaty, exhausted, and aching. Bodily fluids soaked the towels and spare sheets beneath you, filling you with disgust and resentment. If your husband had kept his grubby hands off you or just allowed you to use birth control, you wouldn’t be in the situation, in agony and wracked with worry. Sanyu would be a preemie, born outside of a hospital. Even in your delirious state, you knew that was a dangerous combination. You could only pray a healer’s reversed cursed technique would address any health issues.

Suguru’s face contorted with worry as you panted through another contraction. When you looked into his eyes, you saw nothing but a reflection of your own fears. For all his faults, he wanted the baby to be born healthy, and for your birth to be easy. His form of affection was so twisted, you knew he didn’t care about you, and there was no guarantee he’d care about the baby. He cherished having control, but in that instant, he had no means to establish it. That was what scared him more than anything.

“How much longer?” he asked, pacing around the room with his hands clasped behind his back.

The midwife didn’t answer him, keeping her gaze trained on you. “The baby is crowning. Now’s the time”

A wave of relief washed over you, and you heard Suguru whispering, “Thank fuck”. Knowing Sanyu was almost here gave you the strength to push with all your might, though the pain was unbearable.

“A little more!” the midwife encouraged as another cry left your throat.

A little more. Just a little more, then you could meet your baby, and the torture you were going through would be over.

Suguru returned to your side, grasping your hands as he whispered words of encouragement. In the back of your mind, you wondered if he was being so doting to make up for missing Jona’s birth, for forcing a second baby into your womb. The thought disappeared as soon as another contraction surged through you. You bit back another cry. Your throat felt raw from all the screaming, and you weren’t sure your vocal cords would survive another yell. You grimaced, your nails digging into Suguru’s hand. 

A sob left when your pushing didn’t yield the child, the overwhelming sensation of pain allowing helplessness to take over. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“You can, baby. You have to. Just a little more,” he coaxed, his voice low and reassuring, so opposite of the man you knew.

His touch was gentler than ever before, and though you despised him, his presence was soothing. With Jona, only the twins were there to support and assist you. Now, your son and the girls were with Manami, while you had a medical professional and your husband by your side. It was an upgrade, no matter how much you hated to admit Suguru’s presence made anything better.

“C’mon, Yua,” he said, that commanding tone you were very acquainted with bleeding through.

You suppose his patience was wearing thin, which never boded well. You took a deep breath, then pushed once more.

“The head’s out!” the midwife announced, giving you the strength to continue.

Tears of relief flooded your eyes, and with every ounce of strength you had left, you pushed out the rest of your child. The piercing cry that filled the air was reassuring. The midwife caught the newborn and began checking over for any complications. You slumped against the pile of pillows that’d kept you propped up, your eyes struggling to stay open. The placenta had to be delivered, but the worst of it was behind you, letting you have a moment to relax.

“He seems healthy,” she announced, her booming voice jolting you awake.

Huh, you hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep.

You watched through heavy-lidded eyes as she cleaned Sanyu of the blood and vernix caseosa, wrapped him in a blanket, and handed him to you.

“Hi, sweet boy,” you murmured, stroking back the patch of hair on his head, then guiding him to your nipple.

“He,” Suguru parroted, a grin on his face as he watched your son feed. “You gave me another son.”

You ignored him, too entranced with your baby boy, who was greedily sucking the milk meant to nurture him. Despite the lingering pain and exhaustion, the warmth of your son’s small body gave you peace. You forgot about the stress of his labor and the daily chaos of life, admiring his chubby fingers and toes, and his tranquil expression as he drank from you. It was impossible to harbor any animosity for Sanyu, despite the circumstances of his conception. His father may have been an asshole, but Sanyu was yours, your blood, your baby, innocent of Suguru’s many misgivings.

Everything faded into the background as you focused on the tiny life in your arms, a serene bubble enveloping the two of you. All you wanted to hear were Sanyu’s soft coos and his noisy suckling. The midwife continued her work as she prepped for the afterbirth, and you felt Suguru’s eyes on you. You ignored everything, unwilling to have the precious moment disturbed. Everything felt right in the world, and you’d cling to that feeling as long as possible.

After all, you knew it wouldn’t last long.

[blue--ingenue]

Angsty Seb Headcannons - Part 1

Author's Notes: hi loves :) after writing so many soft!seb hc i decided to jot down all of the angsty ones i've had floating around

Warnings: so much angst, Solomon being an ass

feels the need to help protect Feldcroft (especially after Anne was cursed). the older men of Feldcroft tell him he’s too young to take a shift patrolling like the rest of them, so he spends much of his time in the watchtower next to Solomon’s cottage

basically lives in the shed next to the cottage. he learned early on that Solomon hated seeing him poring over his parents’ research, so he conjured a bookshelf in the shed and stored all of their books there

the watchtower he stations himself at stands directly between Rookwood castle and Solomon’s cottage. he tells himself that he chose it because it’s closest to “his” shed, but subconsciously he’s putting himself directly between Anne and the place where she was cursed (he wants to put himself between Anne and her tormentor the way he thinks he failed to do the night she was cursed)

(regarding the pillow & blankets and letters & postcards strewn on the floor) when Sebastian does manage to sleep he gathers his favorite letters and postcards his parents sent him while traveling for work: a photograph of the pyramids with ‘all our love to you and Anne. be home soon. next time we’ll take you with us’ scrawled on the back. he reads the line over and over wondering if, in another timeline, he’s there with them, falling asleep beneath the desert stars with a healthy Anne

(regarding the bottles strewn about the shed and Sebastian’s watchtower) he decides to stock up on cheap sodas and pumpkin juice, hoping that the sugar rush will help him stay awake longer to research a cure for Anne. he prefers tea while at Hogwarts, but during summer/holiday breaks he’d rather rely on sugar than risk Solomon’s wrath by making tea at all hours

Solomon was definitely jealous of Sebastian’s father. he was forced to end his auror career early, but his brother (an academic) had a career that continued to thrive. his brother had the perfect life: married his best friend, had a thriving career, a beautiful estate, and not one, but two happy, healthy children. Solomon had no family of his own, his career was over, and he had confined himself to a tiny cottage in a farming village

when Solomon takes in the twins he projects all his jealousy and anger onto Sebastian. he looks uncannily like his brother did when he was young, and every time he looks at him Solomon is reminded of everything he wished he had, but never got. he’s softer towards Anne because she looks and acts more like her mother, who Solomon always believed was too good for his brother

Sebastian’s parents are published authors, possibly experts in their field, so naturally they’ve published a few books of their own. sometimes Sebastian sneaks into the library in the middle of the night seeking out everything they’ve written. he gathers them up, curls into an armchair, surrounds himself with their words to feel just a little bit closer to them

[bakawitch]

I was thinking of drawing some art of the student council in Kakeoh, but I'm not sure what some (like personified obelisk the tormentor) look like, do you have any references for them?

Aww! That would be awesome! I'm glad the au piqued your interest enough for that XD

So these are extremely sketchy, but here are the current season 1 designs for the student council members

Close ups and lore tidbits below cut

• Otogi Ryuji - Treasurer of Student Council (Manyuda Kaede/Otogi Ryuji)

Pretty similar to canon Kaede but with a little Duke-ish charm

Also wants to become the student council president

Recommended Risa for the student council

• Kaminaga Dei - Student Council Member/President of Beautification Council (Ikishima Midari/Yami Malik)

Psycho gun guy who gets really excited about gambling

Huge one-sided crush on Yamiko

Joey's face makes him want to throw up for some reason

Has no loyalty towards Kaibami whatsoever

• Nosaka Miho - Head of Public Relations (Yumemite Yumemi/Nosaka Miho)

Her signature symbol is a pink strawberry

Will eventually get a boyfriend

Still hates her fans (Yugi is one of them)

•Ob Bhakta - Secretary of Student Council/Kaibami Seto's Personal Assistant (Igarashi Sayaka/Obelisk the Tormentor)

Hopelessly devoted/in love with Kaibami, gets jealous easily, but keeps it to himself

Comes from a working class family, has really low self-worth

Doesn't gamble a lot but is a borderline genious

Less emotional outwardly than Sayaka

•Kaibami Seto - President of Student Council (Momobami Kirari/Kaiba Seto)

Dramatic, calculated bitch, not above murder

He introduced the housepet system

Besides his twin he has a younger brother

Will eventually cut his hair

Mommy and daddy issues, my guy's a mess

Weirdly obsessed with Yamiko and his fun sized boyfriend thing

•Kaibami Eto - Vice President of Student Council (Momobami Ririka/Kisara)

Younger twin, literally named after her brother

Her name sort of sounds like echo because she's basically just an echo of her twin

Sometimes wears the male uniform so people aren't too quick to catch on when her and Seto switch places

Has very little confidence without her mask

Sometimes finds it easier to be Seto rather than herself

• Dartz Atlan - Student Council Member/Head of Antiques Club (Nishinotoun Yuriko/Dartz)

Has basically the same hairstyle as canon, but a bit shorter and more blond toned

Has heterochromia

All his club members are very loyal to him, loyal enough to fix odds

His club runs a den

Insanely petty

• Fiona Sheldon - Student Council Member/Leader of the Election Committee (Yomozuki Runa/Fiona the Doll)

Daughter of a British count

Has an extensive doll collection

Enjoys sweets and sewing (mostly dresses and accessories for her dolls)

Legit no one knows wtf is going on inside her head

The Election Committee wears pink sweaters and differently styled bonnet hats

• Kageyama Risa - Student Council Junior Member (Sumeragi Itsuki/Kageyama Risa)

Still collects nails

Extremely privileged and spoiled but easily manipulated

Has a crush on Otogi

Doesn't have any sisters

Still kind of into witchcraft

[notoriousbeb]

The My Tears Ricochet Deep Dive

While this song obviously has a clear reference to Taylor’s masters being sold to Scooter Braun in November 2019, I don’t think that’s the full story being told here.

When she released Folklore, Taylor shared via Instagram that “My Tears Ricochet” is about an “embittered tormentor showing up at the funeral of his fallen object of obsession.”

Now, why is she fallen? Because her work has been taken from her. Okay, one question answered. ✅

Now, who is the “embittered tormentor obsessed” with Taylor? Scooter Braun, of course…But see, I actually don’t think it’s that simple. I get why that’s the obvious first choice, though.

(Back story for new kids who don’t know why Scoots is trash: In July 2016, Taylor was outcast and called a snake due to a leaked phone call by Kim Kardashian and her then-husband Kanye West. Scooter was Kanye’s manager. Then Kanye put out the video of the song in question from the call—featuring a naked Taylor lookalike. Then Justin Bieber posted that video to Instagram with a photo showing him on a video call with Scooter and Kanye. The caption said, “Taylor Swift what up.” So, they’re all three supreme douche-canoes of the highest order).

However, I think Scooter’s top priority (as always) in buying Taylor’s masters was simply to make money. And if he pissed her off while doing so, that was probably a delightful bonus. But I wouldn’t say he bought her masters because he was obsessed with her. This deal was nearly three years later, and nothing had popped off between the camps in the interim.

I have more on this tormentor/obsessor/muse, concept; but first, back to Folklore. Upon its release, Taylor also revealed in a YouTube livechat that it was the first song she wrote for the album. And that leads me into a bit of timing discussion.

I think Folklore was the result of a few seismic events in Taylor’s life: a run-in with Harry at Ed’s wedding in December 2018 (which I think helped to spawn his second solo album, Fine Line); followed by talking to him during early quarantine in March 2020 in Los Angeles when the Lover tour got postponed and then cancelled; the pandemic itself pushing her, like many of us, into some serious introspection; and, of course, the sale of her masters to Scooter in 2019.

Since this is the very first song Taylor wrote that ended up on Folklore, my speculation is that perhaps it was penned in those first couple of days of the pandemic, before she reconnected with Harry in LA.

Fine Line would have been newly released—just three months prior—and on her birthday no less.

Which leads me back to the tormentor and obsessor. You know what I might find tormenting, if I were Taylor? If I’d been waiting for this one guy to grow the fuck up for years and then (perhaps after we ran into each other at our good friends’ wedding?), he confessed to me that he still wanted me but, even at 25, he still didn’t have his shit together (please see, “Renegade,” “To Be So Lonely,” and “Peter”).

Then, after I piece myself back together following snake gate, some epic twat who bullied me online back then buys my work out from under me from the guy I thought I had a good working relationship with (Scott Borchetta) and while I’m dealing with that bullshit my ex I’m still pining for releases album on my birthday with songs seemingly about us and how he still wants me.

Yeah, that’d have me plenty tormented. And feeling like, since his first album was also quite “a tip of the cap” to me (his words) as well that, yeah, someone was a little obsessed with me.

So, anyway, the lyrics:

We gather here, we line up, weepin' in a sunlit room And if I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes, too

We open at the funeral Taylor told us about. Then referencing a potential cremation. If she’s burning, so is he. Because they’re twin flames? Because they’re so close?

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe All the hell you gave me? 'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you ‘Til my dying day

Does this sound like someone talking to either a bully or a former business associate? To me it sounds like a very messy, very difficult, former lover.

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And you're the hero flying around, saving face And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

I can see how people could think this was about Scott, but not Scooter. But T herself said this whole thing was about one muse: The embittered obsessor attending her funeral.

Anyway, my take: it’s a lover she couldn’t let go of easily, so it ended messy.

And now he’s out promoting an album full of songs about them, pretending it’s not, because he’s a gentleman. But while he’s acting like she’s nothing to him, they both know what he said to her in private, and what those songs are really about, and no matter how much she cries and waits and wants him to grow up and come get her he just can’t — or won’t.

We gather stones, never knowing what they'll means Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring

This is a Biblical allusion to Ecclesiastes 3:5: “A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing.” I think she’s referring here to an idea revisited again in “loml,” that she thought she’d be safer and maybe get the life she wanted with someone more stable, versus being in a relationship that left her starry eyed, like she was with Harry…and that’s how she wound up with Joe for six years.

You know I didn't want to have to haunt you But what a ghostly scene

Ah, would it really be a Haylor lyric breakdown if we weren’t talking about ghosts and haunting at some point? 👻 They obviously haunt one another because they can’t shut up about each other. (Not that I’m complaining!)

Two Ghosts: “We're just two ghosts swimming in a glass half empty.” ....Ready for it?: “Wonder how many girls he loved and left haunted.” Cardigan: “I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs.”

You wear the same jewels that I gave you As you bury me

Even while doing the press for Fine Line, H was wearing her ring. Should we talk some more about the Haylor ring? Or burying and graves? Nah. I think these posts sum it up very well.

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace 'Cause when I'd fight, you used to tell me I was brave And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake Cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

I think these lines could be a reference both to things he’s said to her and in his songs about her, particularly the pointed ones. “Lights Up,” for one, which to me, reads like an argumentative back-and-forth about why must things change in a relationship against the backdrop of fame. It also seems to include a tie to “Peter” with “I’m never coming back down,” as compared to “I didn’t want to come down.”

And I can go anywhere I want Anywhere I want, just not home And you can aim for my heart, go for blood But you would still miss me in your bones

And where is home in this case—and so many others? Each other.

And I still talk to you When I'm screaming at the sky And when you can't sleep at night You hear my stolen lullabies

I imagine this is her picturing him listening to her old albums, as she hadn’t done her rerecords yet. Also, again, doesn’t this all seem a bit…intimate and dramatic for a business relationship? Like, picture this moment in the Eras Tour in your mind, please, and tell me with a straight face that you’d sing like this for your former boss. It certainly doesn’t seem like anything you’d say to someone like Scooter. Why would she ever want to talk to him at all?

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same Cursing my name, wishing I stayed You turned into your worst fears And you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain Crossing out the good years And you're cursing my name, wishing I stayed Look at how my tears ricochet

So, this is where we get into the “embittered” part of Taylor’s original description of the song’s muse—the person visiting her funeral. Why is he bitter? Because he lost her. She didn’t stay. Perhaps because his own bad behavior pushed her away. “All the light couldn’t put out the dark running through my heart?” “I know you were way too bright for me. I’m hopeless, broken.” Also, and again, please see, “Renegade,” and “To Be So Lonely,” and “Peter” and also “Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus.”

[fastlikealambo]

Hi I'm back! I just have to know what kind of lengths the fruity four will go to to have reader to themselves. Also I love the idea of Nancy being "would you like to stay forever?", I can see the whole group just trying to get her to stay over, she doesn't need to worry abt getting kicked out by her roommate if she stays!

this is making my whole day, I could talk about this dark foursome forever tbh

robin: with a little insight from nancy, somehow robin has managed to acquire reader's favorite things. the next time reader is over, robin pulls out one of her favorite movies that she just happened to rent and feigns having no knowledge about the movie, inviting reader over to the couch and falling in love with the joy in reader's eyes when she gets to explain to robin something that happens in the plot. every time reader swings by to drop something off for nancy, robin's there with something for reader to enjoy and just stay a little bit longer....

steve: steve's more physical with getting reader over there, he's putting in the legwork. reader's taking the bus home from work? nope steve's out front, ready to drop reader off but wait, there's something he needs to pickup from home first! reader might as well come in and wait. reader's studying in the library till well after midnight? steve's carrying her sleepy ass right to his car and back home because reader's roommate wasn't answering the door again and he couldn't find her keys. besides, why the hell would reader sleep in a twin bed when she could have her own big bed, hell her own room?

eddie: he's coming for that car. her car is old and shitty and more often than not, reader has to take the bus because it's out of service. eddie volunteers to have a look but he's not, he's pulling wires, he's got her ignition cable in his back pocket, he's siphoning gas. he won't slash her tires because he doesn't want to scare reader but that car was a death trap before he got his hands on it and he likes having reader sitting right next to him while he destroys works on it. eddie declared it was much too dangerous for her to drive it and that was that.

nancy: miss wheeler is going for her heart. reader gets stressed out over a final for another class, nancy's got flash cards at the ready up in her bedroom to help her study. reader gets sick? there's no way she's sitting in her dorm room alone with a fever, nancy's taking her home and they're all taking care of her. reader's tormentors leaving shit under her door? nancy's got that shit HANDLED.

if there's any other requests lemme know!

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚡 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛: 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚊 𝚊𝚞

[justrandomfanfictionskh]

Dp x Gravity Falls One Shot

(Ford has travelled across multiple dimensions. He has met many beings of various origins and powers. What happens when one of them decides to visit?) ao3

It was just a normal day at the Mystery Shack, where everything was sure to go horribly wrong. The sun was shining. The birds were chirping. Waddles was eating the carpet. Stan was committing tax fraud. Mabel was pouring glitter on her eggs. Dipper was mindlessly shoveling food into his mouth while reading. And Ford was breaking something in the secret basement. All was right in the world, as the family blissfully ignored the looming threat of Bill for the thirty minutes it would take them to eat, trash the kitchen, and start an argument between one of the two pairs of twins. Of course their unique form of domesticity had to be interrupted by a swirling green portal of doom suddenly appearing about the kitchen table, causing frost and wind to send the entire kitchen into chaos. 

"It's Bill!" Dipper shouted. "Gruncle Ford! Bill is attacking!"

"Just try it you yellow floating freak!" Stan yelled as he pulled out a gun from behind the fridge, "Soos protect the merchandise!"

"Yes sir!" Soos shouted as he ran to the gift shop.

"Not today Satan!" Mabel shouted whipping out her crossbow, "Waddles get behind me!"

The pig looked up from the carpet and then returned to his meal. Maniacal laughter poured from the black and green void, as the Pines readied them selves for battle. Ford burst through the door shouting, "Bill! Where? I thought...Oh no!"

"Gruncle Ford! What do we do?! We're not ready!" Dipper cried. 

"Oh Dipper," Ford said somberly, "I'm afraid, that this was caused by something far worse than Bill."

"What?!" the three other Pines screamed. 

"Yes! Something far, far worse. I didn't think he'd ever be able to find me! Not in this dimension! I was a fool! I should have known, that he'd never just leave me alone!"

"Who Gruncle Ford? Who?" Mable pleaded, as the wind picked up and the laughter grew.

"My greatest tormentor! The Ruler of the Infinite Realms! The Ghost King!...Danny Phantom!"

A great flash of light blinded everyone in the kitchen, and there was silence. Slowly, the Pines' recovered their vision, and blinked at their new enemy. It was...a boy. A young down no older than sixteen, or fifteen floating lazily above the table without a care in the world. He was clearly not human with his misty white hair and glowing green eyes, so none of them lowered their weapons. And yet...he seemed so young. His bright smile showed too sharp teeth, but it was full of laughter as he surveyed the kitchen. And in his back and white jumpsuit with the stylized D emblem, he almost looked like a super hero. But what confused the family the most was when, upon seeing Ford, the glowing ghost teen threw up his arms and cried,

"Fordy! How you doin' old buddy old pal! I haven't seen you in ages! What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be running from a chaos demon or two?"

"Phantom," Ford said gruffly, as the ghost kid circled his head at a dizzying pace, "Good to see you again. Shouldn't you be running an interdimensional kingdom of infinite proportions?"

If this "Danny" heard the growing aggravation in Ford's voice, he obviously didn't care as he slowed lounge in the air in front of the disgruntled scientist and casually said, "Yeah, well I'm taking a break! Fright Knight can handle things while I'm gone, besides I wanted to catch up on all my old friends. See how their doing! Make sure their not all dead, and such! By the way why are there two of you? Haaaaahh! Did some one clone you against you're well, cause buddy I've been there!"

Stan and the twins exchanged confused looks and then turned to Ford as they all slowly lowered their weapons. Finally Ford sighed and said, "No, Phantom, I was not cloned. This is my twin brother, Stanley. You can call him Stan. And these are my great niece and nephew, Dipper and Mabel. Stan, Dipper, Mabel, this is Danny Phantom. He's...a...friend." 

It was clear that the word was dragged from Ford's lips as if they'd been pulling teeth. But that didn't stop his family from gasping in shock and wonder, at the absolute miracle before them. Ford had a friend, who...wasn't evil! It was incredible! It took a moment for the rest of the family to comprehend the news before Mabel began to squeal like a tea kettle coming to boil. A sound which was quickly followed by her jumping and shouting,

"Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Hi! I'm Mabel! It rhymes with table! And you are sooo cool! Are you really a ghost? Are you going to kill us? Can we hang out? Do you have a girl friend? I can't believe Gruncle Ford has a friend! Oh my gosh!" 

Danny grinned at the sparkily girl before floating down to he eye level saying, "Hi Mabel, rhymes with table. Yes, I am cool! Yes, I'm a ghost. No I'm not going to kill you. Of course we can hang out! But I do have a girl friend, her name is Sam, and she's the best! And of course I'm Fordy's friend! What else would I be? His enemy?" Phantom let out a roaring laugh at that last comment, but the rest of the family only chuckled nervously as Ford mumbled in annoyance. 

Dipper decided to end the awkwardness by stepping forward while clearing his throat. "Ahem...uh, hi! Mr. Phantom, you're majesty. Um...I'm sorry but do you have time to answer one or two thousand questions about yourself, kingdom, and the multiverse please?" He said eagerly sheepish, as he flipped through his journal and began clicking his pen rapidly. 

"Wow!" Danny said, "Mini Ford, what do you know! and sure kid I can answer a few questions! But now one or two thousand...how about, you think of three questions for each topic. I'll answer them. And then when I come back, you can ask three more! Sound good, kid?" 

"Uh yeah, ok great!" Dipper said, now barley restraining himself from bouncing alongside his sister. 

"Wait!" Ford shouted suddenly desperate, "You're planning on visiting? More than once?!"

"Well, yeah dude!" Danny said as he drifted around the kitchen ceiling in lazy circles. "Like I said you're my friend. And I like to make sure my friends are, you know---not dead! Besides, dude! You're like super old! And I mean like really, really, super duper old! I'm surprised you haven't just keeled over by now, I mean seriously dude! How are you even still alive?" 

Ford groaned as he rubbed his temples, "Phantom how old do you think I am?"

"I don't know!" Danny said with a smirk, "Like thirty?"

Ford growled, but Stan held him back, clearly trying not to laugh. "Oh, come one now poindexter! Lay off the kid, he's just having a laugh!" 

"Stanley," Ford muttered, "Phantom is over four thousand years old! He is the absolute ruler of the afterlife, all after lives! He is the embodiment of balance between life and death! His 'girl friend' is the guardian of nature, meaning that she is technically Mother Nature for the entirety of the multiverse! And this is how he behaves!" 

The brothers looked to where Danny holding Dipper's hat just out of reach while the twins laughed, trying to jump for it. Stan just shrugged his shoulders with a roll of his eyes and said, "A kids and kid, poindexter, no matter what crazy, magical, hoody haw is going on! Besides he seems harmless!"

CRASH!!! Everyone jumped and stared at the broken chandelier lying in the center of a shattered table. Perceiving the adults watching them, all three of the kids shouted,

"Dipper did it!"

"Danny did it!"

"Mabel did it!"

Ford facepalmed with a load smack, as Ford grinned and saying, "Oh this is going to be fun!"

However, before anyone could do anything else, Soos ran in with a broom screaming, "Begone foul daemon! Stay away from my dudes! Dude! In the name of the all powerful spirit of Azerath! begone! Now get! Get! Get!" All while trying to swat Danny with the broom as if her were a spider on the ceiling. 

"Hey!" Danny shouted, "Not cool man! I'm not a daemon! Leave me alone!" 

Stan bellowed in laughter, as the twins tried to get Soos to stop. Which was interrupted by Danny freezing Soos to the floor. Now the three kids, were trying to unfreeze the human gopher, as Stan continued to laugh, and Ford groaned into his hands. "Where's Bill when you need him?" He muttered as he attempted to disappear into the basement. It was going to be a long day. Or week, depending on how long Phantom decided to stay.  

[someotherdog]

character: warren open: f/nb plot: warren used to be an emo poet back in high school which earned him a lot of bullying and teasing back in the day. your muse was especially vicious back then. years later, warren has returned to his hometown for the holidays and steals away to the local pub, only to have his former bully approach him. it's up to you whether your muse is apologetic or still hates him, but either way warren is a simp and she could walk him like a dog if she wanted. somewhat dr*moine based, though the roles are reversed. this post was made using beta editor, please do not reblog it in legacy as i no longer have access to it!

warren tried not to go back home if he could help it. though he loved his mothers, he could barely stand to be in the same room as his twin sister for more than a few hours, and everything in his childhood home reminded him of how miserable he was all his life. the bullying he endured in school had lasting effects on him, making him into a shy poet a few months from finally graduating college. his last ever winter break, warren felt the need to go home for the holidays, aided by his mom’s guilting and the idea that it was the final break he’d have as a student. soon, he was going to be an actual adult with a degree and not an idea of what to do with his life. now stuck in the limbo between christmas and new years, he felt suffocated by his mothers’ hovering and his twin sister’s bickering, which led to him entering the local bar for the first time ever. sitting at the bar for almost an hour now, he had been nursing a glass of whiskey that he didn’t actually want just so he’d have something to do with his hands. almost ready to give up and go home, he felt the presence of someone on his side. just about to greet them, the words died in his throat when he looked and saw just who it was: his greatest tormentor in high school. warren grabbed for his drink, immediately tossing back half of it. he was going to need courage in order to speak to them. “h–hey. hi.” maybe if he was lucky, they wouldn’t recognize him. he hoped they didn't, and if they did, they didn't still see him as some lanky loser.

[darklordazalin]

Azalin Reviews: Darklord Jacqueline Renier

Domain: Richemulot Domain Formation:  694 BC Power Level: 💀💀💀⚫⚫ Sources: Ravenloft (3e), Secrets of the Dread Realms (3e), Domains and Denizens (2e), Realm of Terror (2e), Domains of Dread (2e), Gazetteer III (3e).

Most Darklords are pulled into the Mists and “gifted” a land to rule (that is also designed to torment them) after committing an act of so-called evil. Others gain such titles through the act of killing another Darklord. Why one would want eternal torment, I cannot say. Self hate? Inability to recognize where they truly are? Oh and if you are thinking of doing the same, this ploy doesn't always work. Most Darklords simply come back after they are “destroyed” as even our tormentors will not let death free us from them.

Before Jacqueline Renier became the Darklord of Richemulot, her grandfather Claude Renier was Darklord. The Renier family was chased into the Mists by a group of monster hunters and their hounds when Jacqueline was a child. Most Darklords rarely remember much, if anything, of the land they came from, our tormentors erase such things from their minds. One must not believe a lying rat when they state they remember something when all evidence points to the contrary. 

The Reniers fled into the sewers and given the choice between death and a vault filled with a mysterious Mist, they chose the Mist and Falkovnia. Death may have been the kinder option than dealing with Drakov...The Reniers lived in the sewers of Silbervas in Falkovnia for a number of years before Vlad grew tired of their antics and ran them out of his Domain and into the Mists once more. This indicates that Vlad was successful in defeating the Reniers. Now that is a family history I’m sure Lady Jacqueline doesn't wish you to know of.

The Mists created Richemulot, which is mostly made of river valleys and untamed forests with the majority of its populace living in the three large cities. There is no known history of what happened in Richemulot prior to the Reniers settling there. The cities themselves were said to be empty when they arrived and like true scavengers, instead of questioning this oddity, the people merely accepted it and took up whatever residence they wished. To this day, only about a third of the buildings in each city are occupied by humanity, the rest lie abandoned and given over to decay and the infestation of rats.

Claude ruled through fear and manipulation, bidding his rivals and relatives (often these were the same) against one another. Jacqueline and her twin sister, Louise, were his protegees and he was always encouraging competition between the two for his affection and praise. That is until Jacqueline had enough of it and had a servant send him a drink laced with lye. Each wererat in Richemulot has their own unique 'allergin' and lye was Claude's. Not that I would advise anyone to consume lye in the first place... 

Jacqueline ensured she was there as her grandfather drank the poison so she could gloat as he died. But the poison wasn’t enough for her and she also pushed him through a window where he fell through the roof of the family kennel and was half-consumed by hounds before his body was retrieved. Considering the poison killed him before he hit the ground, this was quite unnecessary and makes it far more obvious to even the casual observer who was responsible for Claude’s death.

Jacqueline is just as manipulative and cunning as her grandfather was, ruling the land through secrets and bringing down her opposition through rumors and misinformation. It is said the nobility trade more in secrets than coin in Richemulot and that a commoner may gain status by simply hearing the right rumor and knowing how to weld it. 

Instead of pitting her family against one another, Jacqueline encourages them to work together, though she herself kills anyone that appears to be working against her. Only her twin sister is the exception to this. Curious. Does Jacqueline have some form of misguided affection for her sister? Is this why she has all of Louise’s lovers and friends killed? Regardless of the reasoning, it is abundantly clear that Jacqueline does not take competition for her affections well.

She is patriotic and wishes to bring prosperity to her Domain. Of course, the prosperity she strives for would result in the end of humanity, but she does try.  Though there’s no formal militia in Richemulot, she expects all of her people to take up arms to defend the realm. So, her defense is the equivalent of untrained peasants with pitchforks. Drakov’s ever-failing attempts at conquering her Domain must be particularly crushing for the little mercenary. Still, he seems to have created enough stir in Richemulot to encourage Jacqueline to sign the Treaty of Four Towers with Borca, Dementlieu, and Mordent in defence against the war-hungry, impaling-loving idiot. 

Jacqueline’s curse is to only appear in her rat form to those she loves. A fact she discovered when she fell in love with the nobleman Henri DuBois. She attempted to inflict him with her lycanthropy but he managed to not only escape that fate, but Richemulot as well. Jacqueline, a word to the wise, if one cannot accept you in your rat form, are they really worth all this pinning and crippling monophobia?

Jacqueline is a formidable combatant, but only when she is surrounded by her allies. She can speak with rats, take mist form like a vampire, and climb along almost any surface. However, when she is alone, her monophobia cripples her to a point where she can easily be defeated.

Considering the majority of her people do not know of her wererat affliction, her mastery of manipulation and control, and easy defeat of Claude; Jacqueline is not a Darklord to be underestimated. Though, if one learns her fears she can be easily taken out by a well-placed assassin. I will grant her three skulls.

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

Domain: Richemulot Domain Formation:  Unspecified (694 BC older editions) Power Level: 💀💀⚫⚫⚫ Sources: Van Richten’s Guide to Ravenloft (5e)

The “good” Doctor’s new guide indicates that Jacqueline is not a natural born wererat, but was inflicted with the curse instead. Does this mean one could simply cast ‘Remove Curse’ upon her person to effectively neutralize her? Or any of her family members seeing as she changed all of them herself? Our Tormentors rarely make things that easy, but a theory I encourage any with such abilities to try. 

Born into the Renier noble family, Jacqueline analyzed the changes in her city as the commoners became more wealthy. To Jacqueline this was viewed as a threat to her family’s position. Would a wealthy class of commoners abide by the rules of nobility if they have no need of them? And though Jacqueline shared her concerns with her family, the other Reniers ignored them, content with these inevitable changes.

Without her family’s assistance, Jacqueline was left to her own machinations. This eventually led her to discover a secret society of esteemed families that called themselves the Trueblood Council…which ended up being made of a bunch of filthy commoner wererats.

She was disgusted to find this filth in place of what she imagined as elite masterminds. Given the amount of gold she spent on gaining membership, perhaps she should have done a bit more research on them? Was it really THAT surprising they ended up being wererats considering their secret meeting location was the sewers? Regardless as she cursed and spit upon them, they made her into a wererat. 

Jacqueline easily adapted to her life as a wererat and swiftly infected all of the Reniers. Except for her twin sister, Louise, who resisted. For her insolence, Louise was disfigured and cast out. In order to gain control of the city, Jacqueline unified the wererats and together they created the Gnawing Plague. However, instead of becoming the savior to the people when they begged for her assistance, she let them die, finding her hatred of the commoners replaced with a hatred for all non-wererats. Who exactly are you ruling over if everyone is dead? Well, no one is the answer and the Mists took her after the last person in Richemulot died.

Now Jacqueline rules half-empty cities in the land of Richemulot, but can only maintain her rule by controlled releases of the Gnawing Plague in order to suppress those that would rise up against her. Given the apparently disposable armies of rats, wererats, and animated armor stuffed with rats she has control over, this seems an unnecessary tactic. Not to mention the populace cannot be all that intelligent given their lack of awareness of Reniers affliction. Jacqueline wears a shawl of rats, rat shoes, and a rat bracelet. Her love of rats could not be more apparent and the rats are known to be the cause of the plague.

No wonder she has no love of ruling over her idiotic populace. I doubt they pose any real challenge for her. Her torments are rather weak compared to other Darklords. She dislikes ruling, misses decadence yet causes such things to be nonexistent with her plagues and has to keep on creating plagues? I would take those anyday over what I have to endure.

Jacqueline can control and communicate any rat in her Domain and mostly uses them as spies. Otherwise, she is an inflicted wererat who has a love for creating plagues. Considering her control would easily break if the labs that created said plagues were destroyed, I consider this version of Jackie to be less powerful than in previous versions. 2.5 Skulls.