#they have. they certainly did do that and they certainly do use the awareness colors

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

there’s flags for dermatillomania and trichotillomania apparently

[ckret2]

Chapter 68 of human Bill Cipher not looking much like the Mystery Shack's prisoner because he's just vibing on the porch: Mabel's riding high on the success of making Bill two whole friends, Ford's dealing with curses... and let's see how that camera got cursed in the first place.

####

Mabel asked, "What about Aaron Laarson?"

"I don't know," Candy said, "Aaron is cute, but he isn't a very good dancer. That's very important to me in a teen pop idol."

"He's a really good actor, though," Grenda said. "You should see him in Hot Models 2: Runway Boogaloo!" Candy looked thoughtful.

They'd spent the last thirty minutes chattering, with Grenda and Candy sitting on Bill, who was now laying his upper body on the couch cushion he'd been assaulted with earlier but otherwise hadn't moved. To all appearances, Bill was sound asleep—he even breathed like he was asleep—but every once in a while, he'd pipe up with something like, "Don't get too attached to Aaron Laarson. He's dying in a kayaking accident next summer."

Grenda groaned in disappointment. Candy said, "He should have spent that time practicing dancing instead of kayaking."

Mabel caught movement in the corner of her eye, and started when she saw Ford and Dipper. "Uh oh. I didn't expect them to come in on this side of the house."

Across the clearing, Ford shouted, "Mabel, what the devil is he doing outside with—!"

Mabel shouted, "It's okaaay, I got permission from Grunkle Staaan, I love yooou!"

Ford hesitated. "Well... if Stan okayed it."

Dipper looked at Mabel and her camera. Mabel looked at Dipper and his camera. They immediately started making the stupidest faces they could at each other's cameras. "Hey," Mabel said, "did you find the nightwigglies? It looks like they found yooou!"

Dipper self-consciously tugged up the vest he was using like a makeshift skirt. "We did! It was so great, we recorded some kind of ritual dance, how they make babies—" At Grenda's outburst of "Ewww!" he quickly clarified, "Not—not in a gross way—and we saw some kind of Nightwiggler god! It was amazing!"

"Wow! That's great!" Mabel said. "We summoned a demon and almost died."

"What?"

"By the way!" Mabel waved her camera at Ford. "Grunkle Ford, I kiiinda used your cursed camera by accident. Could you please uncurse the tape so I can keep the episode I filmed tonight? Goldie said the magic thingy he stuck on it will only keep it tame as long as the tape's in the camera."

"That's because it's technically the tape itself that's cursed, not the camera." Ford wondered if Bill had led Mabel to the camera.

"Can you uncurse it, though?"

"I think so. I'll see what I can do." Ford took the camera from Mabel. He decided not to comment on the girls' interesting makeup choices.

Bill opened one eye a sliver as he felt Ford and Dipper step on the porch, saw Ford's bare calf over his boot, and cracked up. "What happened to your pants! Did you try to join the Hokey Pokey?"

Ford gave Bill a withering look—caught sight of Bill's mismatched tween-girl-pencil-case/airbrushed-hot-rod eyeshadow, and laughed in surprise. "What happened to your face?"

"Aren't I beautiful?" Bill asked, lacing his hands under his chin (and making Ford snort again when he spied the multiple nail extensions on one hand). "Go on! Tell me I'm beautiful. I know I am."

"You're..." Ford was keenly aware that Mabel and her friends were probably behind this makeover, "...certainly colorful."

"Stanford, you flatterer!" Bill cackled.

Dipper headed inside, yawning. "I'm gonna... go to sleep or something."

That was a good idea; but Ford was hesitant to go in. He was loath to trust Bill unsupervised alone with a couple of vulnerable children, with no one to keep him in check but another child he'd already manipulated into helping him escape once.

But who was Ford to judge. Bill had manipulated him into helping him escape, too. He supposed Mabel could handle him as well as anyone else.

Grenda said, "I think we should watch Hot Models 2 anyway! It's got lots of cute boys! And girls, I guess." She turned to Bill. "Hey, do you like girls or boys?"

"Sometimes," Bill said. "Sure, I'm up for it. It's a pretty good satire of Big Fashion and I like the runway fight scene with the big light show."

To Ford, all Bill seemed to be doing was talking about movies, wearing stupid makeup, and being a chair for a couple of kids. It was so... normal.

It was something a person would do.

Ford made himself go inside. Maybe he'd start work on uncursing that tape for Mabel before he went to bed.

####

Bill had written a magic-negation seal on the back of a crumpled Mystery Shack receipt and attached it to the camcorder with an X of clear tape. Ford had only used that seal twice in his life. Once, thirty years ago, when Bill had taught it to him. And once last fall, when Ford had attempted to draw it in the Book of Bill to prevent its anomalous effects. Bill's book had absorbed the seal into its page until it disappeared—then burped. At least the symbol still seemed to work on the camcorder.

Ford tried to rewind the tape to the beginning; something inside the camcorder caught and made a nasty sound. He grimaced and hit the stop button. That wasn't good. He carefully peeled off the magic-negation seal, popped the cassette tape out of the camera, and examined it. 

He pushed up the cassette's guard panel, but where there should have been a strip of magnetic tape running beneath it, there was nothing. The tape must have snapped. As he tried to inspect the damage, the cassette jumped and rattled in his hand, trying to snap the guard panel shut on his finger like it wanted to bite him.

"Stop that," Ford chided. "I'm trying to repair you." Would it listen? In his experience, objects animated by this particular curse tended to be consistently hostile. He might need to re-seal it.

To his surprise, the tape settled down sedately on his desk. That was more like it.

"Can you unreel the damaged ends of your tape?" If it could, that would save him the effort of disassembling the thing entirely.

After a short pause, the cassette flipped up its guard panel and extended two ends of broken tape.

"Thank you."

It looked like something had... burned? melted the tape? But what? The video cassette's casing was completely undamaged, how had something managed only to burn the tape inside?

Ford snipped off the damaged ends of the tape, used a little strip of masking tape to connect them back together, and carefully rewound the tape a few seconds with a pen. This was only a temporary repair; he'd have to transfer the contents of this cassette to an undamaged one. Mabel would probably want it digitized so she could make her video, too. But watching a few seconds wouldn't destroy it; and he wanted to know whether the camera had recorded whatever damaged the tape.

He carefully removed the smallest of Project Mentem's undamaged monitors, moved it to his worktable, plugged in a VHS-C player, and slid the cassette in.

As he started to play back the recording—the first thing on the screen was one of Mabel's terrified-looking friends—the monitor trembled and jumped, banging heavily as it landed back on Ford's worktable.

"Oh, behave." Ford peeled the magic-negating seal off the camcorder and slapped it on the TV. It immediately stilled. Some gratitude for repairing that tape.

When Ford turned his attention back to the screen, Mabel's friend's face had been replaced by Bill's, his curls filling the edges of the screen.

"Gold-O! You came back!" "Hey, Grend-O. Sorry for the wait..."

As Ford watched, Bill grappled with the camera, eventually managed to get a grip on it, and stared it down with nearly enough fury to make Ford forget the goofy eyeshadow. "Now let's get this straight. Everything beneath this shack's roof is my domain and under my protection! If you want to hurt anyone here—you'll have to get through m—"

The scene cut straight to Mabel's face as it skipped over the damaged section he'd had to cut out. "Welcome back to Mabel's Guide to Secret Sleepovers! Weee're—"

Ford stopped the tape. Huh.

Huh.

####

As soon as Candy and Grenda were gone, Mabel flung her arms around Bill. "Thank you for being nice to my friends," she said. "Especially Grenda. I'm so glad you liked them both after all!"

Liked them? He'd been a charming host to them, but. "Did I?"

"Yes," Mabel informed him firmly. "You did."

Well, he figured he must've, then. And Grenda had grown on him. She'd complimented his eyes, she admired gross things, she had very intelligent opinions on amphibians in general and axolotls in particular... "Hey, any friend of my friend is a friend of mine!"

"That's so much better than what I was trying to say." Mabel let go of him, beaming. "Wanna hang out with them again sometime?"

"Sure!" Bill said, shrugging. "We still have to watch some dumb action comedy movies."

"Great! I'll let them know the next sleepover's over here!" She ran upstairs.

Calling her friends to arrange the next sleepover before they'd even gotten home. Yeah—that was generally how Bill planned his parties, too.

Looked like his social circle for the foreseeable future consisted of three little girls. Wasn't ideal, but he could work with that. He'd always liked getting invited to girls' nights. And maybe at future sleepovers he could talk the kids into some real fun. When they weren't trying to keep quiet, he knew, they fed off each other's chaos. And he was sure there was a budding pyromaniac lurking in Candy's heart.

####

Ford nodded as he passed Stan in the entryway. "Just getting up?"

"Yep. Just going to bed?"

Ford shrugged ruefully. "Afraid so. We got some terrific footage last night, though."

"Oh, yeah? Anything sellable?"

"That's up to Dipper, but I think there's good potential. Bare minimum, I'd bet some cryptozoology documentaries would be interested in his findings."

"Hey, all right! Not bad for a night's work." Stan passed by, headed for the bathroom.

And Ford almost headed on to the guest bedroom—but, reluctantly made himself turn toward the kitchen.

Bill was sitting at the table, sipping at a can of cider with an empty one already on the table in front of him, staring out the window at the morning. He didn't usually drink that heavily this early; it probably meant he was heading to bed soon. The girls must have kept him up all night. Dipper had regaled Ford with tales of what Mabel's sleepovers were like.

"Bill."

"Hm?"

He should have gotten straight to business. Instead, he said, "I watched some of Mabel's video from last night."

Bill glanced over at him. (He still had that ridiculous makeup.) "Oh, yeah?"

Under my protection. Did he consider himself the household's guardian—or its owner? "I..." Ford cleared his throat. "I wondered about—the symbol you painted on your hand to disable the camera. That part of the tape melted, and—I assume it was light-activated, which means it must be different from the seal I already know, so...?"

Bill's face had immediately closed off. He turned away. "You're not my student."

Ford was surprised at how much that felt like a slap to the face. He should have been glad—he'd finally managed to get Bill to agree with what he'd been telling him all summer—but he hadn't expected Bill to ever give up. (He hadn't expected Bill to ever change.)

But he probably hadn't really given up. No doubt he was giving Ford the cold shoulder to see if he begged Bill's forgiveness.

"No. I suppose I'm not." He trudged into the kitchen, rummaged in his coat pocket, and dropped a leather pouch on the table. "Anyway, I'm just here to drop this off."

Bill reached for it, stopped himself, and warily asked, "What is it?"

"The rest of my nutrition pills from my interdimensional travels." When he'd lost his trench coat to the lake during the eclipse last week, he'd had to dig out the old tattered one he'd worn during his travels, and he'd happened to find his pills at the same time. It had occurred to him to bring them up while he was working on Mabel's tape. They were tricky to synthesize, but they lasted forever and the ingredients could be found in almost any dimension—whether there was anything otherwise edible for humans or not. 

Bill eyed him suspiciously; but he opened the pouch's snap and peeked into the resealable plastic bag. They didn't look like "pills" so much as small balls of incredibly dense dark brown bread, each about the size of a wad of bubblegum. "Whyyy?"

"To make up the difference in your diet until we figure out the food problem," Ford said. "They're formulated so that four a day meets a human's... well, meets my nutritional needs. I haven't looked into your..." vague gesture, "body... type."

"Is this your emergency stash?"

"It... was." Stan had persuaded Ford to get back onto normal food (as much of a waste of time as it was), but he still had this stash left.

"Why are you giving me your emergency stash."

"Because... I'm not having an emergency and you are?" It was better than a couple of avocados and some hot sauce. Honestly, he should have thought to go looking for his nutrition pills weeks ago. If he'd realized just how severe they'd made Bill's situation... or how stubborn Bill would be about asking for help... or that they'd ever plan to keep Bill around long enough that his nutrition would be an issue.

Bill squinted at him, and for a moment Ford thought he was about to start a fight for some insane reason; but then the air seemed to leak out of him, his shoulders sagged, and he just looked at the nutrition pills. "For starters, they'll need more than twice as much iron."

"That much?"

"And more vitamin D, I don't remember the numbers right now." He shut the pouch, sat back, and lifted his cider can again. "All right."

All right? Ford supposed that was all he was getting. He turned to go.

As he did, Bill said, "Bed?"

Ford glanced back. "Yes?"

"Fine," Bill said. "Have nightmares."

He couldn't help letting out a laugh. "Fine. You too."

"It's too late for you to start trying to sweet-talk me like that, Stanford Pines!" But he tilted his can toward Ford—cheers—chugged down the rest, and cracked open a third.

####

Dipper was already in bed when Mabel charged in. He rolled over slightly, saw she was still in her sleepover pajamas, and mumbled, "Going to sleep too?"

She rummaged around in the closet by the door. "I can't waste that kind of time!" She retrieved a shoe box full of the wooden models of the townspeople she'd crudely whittled last summer at a library arts & crafts program run by Wendy's dad. She dumped them out on the floor, and, for lack of a figure representing Bill, tore a corner off a stray sheet of notebook paper and drew his eye on it. "I've got to capitalize on last night's success!"

She snatched her pyramid prism off the windowsill and taped the paper eye on it. "Hey, you." She poked Bartholomew's cradle. "Why were you a big chicken in front of my friends?"

"What, with you waving that camera around?" Bartholomew said. "I didn't want it to know I have a soul to steal."

"You knew?! You jerk!" She gave the cradle a harder poke, rocking it slightly.

Dipper yawned. "Capitalize on what success? The demon summoning?"

"No! Helping Bill make two new friends!" Mabel sat on the floor, plopped the Bill prism down amidst the other wooden figures, and started setting them upright. Waddles waddled over to sniff at them.

"Oh." Dipper groaned and rolled back over.

"The next stage of his rehabilitation is expanding his social circle. Get him some normal friends that don't want to eat people or destroy moons or whatever!" She grabbed up the notebook paper again, tore it into sections, and wrote on each with the nearest gel pen: "Friends!!!" "Maybe" "NO" "Healthy ☆ Rivals" "♡ Potential dates? ♡" She added thoughtfully, "And maybe get him a love life. We had to chase off his last girlfriend."

Dipper groaned louder. "I don't wanna think about Bill dating. That dumb eye-bat was bad enough."

"She's not dumb, she's into avant-garde experimental films. And she watches them with subtitles. Bill said so." She placed her, Grenda's, and Candy's figures in the Friends section, tentatively placed Dipper halfway between Maybe and No after checking to make sure he wasn't watching, and then started scanning her collection for more likely friends. "Who in town do you think would date Bill Cipher?"

"Nobody. Everyone hates him."

She stuck Wendy and her gang in the "Friends!!!" section, she thought they were a safe bet. "Who do you think would date Bill if they don't know he's Bill?"

"Nobody." Dipper pulled his blanket over his head.

"Pbbt, don't be so negative! You've gotta believe in him." Blubs and Durland? They were probably his friends, right? She sorted them accordingly and added Lazy Susan to the "Maybe" section. "Just you watch. I'll have Bill reintegrated into society before the end of the summer!"

Mabel had picked out several more prospective friends for Bill before Dipper sighed, rolled over again, and said, "Why do you have to make friends for Bill?"

"Bro. Come on. When he's left to his own devices, he keeps talking about pulling people's veins out of their bodies or telling them secret information about their own childhoods. He's probably talking about something creepy right now."

####

"I'm telling you," Bill said, gesticulating emphatically with a cider can. "It works. Your cousins will never argue with you again, and you guarantee they'll be with you forever! It's the perfect way to permanently resolve family disputes!"

"I can see your logic," Stan said, grimacing. "However. I'm not eating my cousins."

"Not all your cousins," Bill insisted. "Just one, to send a message. You don't even need to eat the whole guy! Just half a limb or so. If you want to look like the bigger man, you can even let him choose which one."

Looking faintly nauseous, Stan shoved over his unfinished eggs and pancakes and stood. "What the heck was your home life like?"

"Oh, it was terrific. I was the family golden child." Bill dug into Stan's eggs. "I was everything your family hoped you'd be and was disappointed you weren't!" 

"Was that before or after you started eating your cousins?"

"I didn't say I did it. That's your species' thing." Bill said, with a lofty tone that suggested moral superiority, "We'reinedible."

"Ha!" Stan shook his head. "You talk a big game for a guy who's never eaten one family member!"

Bill snapped the tab off his cider can and flipped it at Stan's head.

####

"He's delightful, but he's an acquired taste," Mabel said. "He just needs somebody else to help mediate when he meets new people! Like letting two cats sniff each other under the door!"

"Okay, but why you?"

She thought about that, staring at the pyramid representing Bill; then she shrugged. "Somebody has to."

"They really don't."

"Somebody should," Mabel insisted. "I just really want to see him make friends with everybody here. It's like... making it up to the town for hurting them last year."

"I think leaving them alone would work better. After what he did, he doesn't deserve to be friends with anyone in town—"

"It's important to me, okay?" Mabel snapped. "It just is."

What was that for? Did she think he was criticizing her for befriending him? He mumbled, "I didn't mean you."

She was quiet a moment. "I know." 

"Sorry." Dipper was too tired for this conversation; he was just sticking his foot in his mouth. He yawned, muttered, "Good luck scheduling him a playdate, I guess," and rolled over.

####

After sleep and lunch, Ford returned to his study, set up a second blank video cassette to copy the damaged one's data, carefully rewound the damaged one all the way to the beginning, and watched it for the first time in over thirty years.

The recording was grainy and distorted now. It looked so old. This technology had been brand new when Ford had bought his video camera—so new that he'd had to order it from overseas, it hadn't been available in the United States yet. How quickly things changed.

The camera turned to take in Ford's own, younger, beaming face. "This is Dr. Stanford Pines, with the first of what will hopefully be many video recordings of the oddities in Gravity Falls." (In the present, Ford snorted.) "The subject of this first video is a series of magic symbols that, when combined, can animate inanimate objects. Any inanimate object."

He turned the camera around. Like a vampire's morbid pulpit, one of Ford's journals was laid open atop the lid of a black casket. Two heavy chains were laid across each side of the book and locked around the casket's handles to keep them tightly secured. A couple dozen pages in the middle of the book had been left free of the chains, but were pinned down by a cinderblock.

All the security measures were clearly needed; the book was thrashing in its restraints strongly enough to make the casket lid rattle. The visible text writhed across the journal's pages, words and symbols appearing and disappearing in the margins. The susurrations of the pages rubbing against each other sounded like the hissing of a trapped animal.

Ford tipped the cinderblock off the journal and pinned the pages down with his shoe instead. "Several days ago, a local director taught me the spell he used to animate clay figures for his movies. I'd thought perhaps he was creating golems, but aside from the superficial similarity of writing symbols to animate figures of mud, there doesn't seem to be any similarity between his ritual and any golem folklore I've ever heard. Furthermore, his creations are intelligent, capable of speech, and seem to remain loyal to their creator simply out of a passion for acting and respect for his directorial talents rather than any sort of magically-compelled loyalty." A wry note entered his voice. "And I can confirm that the spell itself certainly doesn't impart any loyalty."

 The page below his foot erased itself and replaced the text with large, angry text: "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO EARN MY LOYALTY?! YOU DOG EAR MY PAGES! YOU USE ME AS A CHOPPING BOARD!"

"Wh—! Who do you think you are, a Sefer Torah?! Don't be so precious! You're made of faux leather and craft paper, I'll dog ear you all I want!" Ford snapped. "And I already apologized for the chopping board thing!"

The journal stopped moving. "My cover isn't real leather?"

"On my budget?! The closest you've ever come to real cow hide is visiting the Sprott farm!"

While the journal was stunned silent, Ford scooted his foot aside so the camcorder could see a symbol on the opposite page—one of the few bits of ink that didn't seem to shift around the journal's pages. "This is the symbol the director taught me. But it's only supposed to work if you perform an accompanying ritual to activate and power it, which I haven't." He reached down with a gloved hand to flip the loose pages over, then pinned them again under his shoe to let him record another symbol. "This symbol is supposed to power magical artifacts. I suspect writing both these sigils together in the same book has caused them to interact in unexpected ways. But, by themselves, these two are insufficient to bring a book to life—I experimented by copying them both into Journal 1—so perhaps some of the other symbols or spells written in Journal 2 are contributing to—"

"WHAT?!" Journal 2 angrily scrawled around the perimeter of the second symbol. "You tried to bring that teacher's pet to life?! What's wrong with ME!"

"You mean, besides your completely uncooperative attitude, reckless abuse of magic, and murder attempts?" Ford ignored the journal's angry "shouting" as he went on, "But until I figure out what the other symbols are, my... anonymous informant on the occult—"

"You don't mean Creature #326? Tell me it's not Creature #326!"

"—has taught me a sigil that should be able to reverse the effects of the animation spell—"

A series of magical sigils flashed across the journal's page and were quickly replaced by "HA-HA-HA!" The camera shuddered.

"What was that?!" Ford set the camera on the casket where it could watch as he tried to pin down Journal 2's fluttering pages and write on it. "We'll see who's laughing in a minute, you— Stop erasing what I write!" Ford tugged out a sticky note that had been serving as bookmark, hastily scribbled on it, and slapped it into the journal. "Ha!"

The book immediately fell still.

Ford grabbed up a tape dispenser from the floor, pulled off a short strip, and attached the sticky note more securely to the page. "Well. That was effective." He flipped through the journal. "Furthermore, it looks like all the changes Journal 2 made to itself have been reverted. Good. It defaced a lot of data I'd hate to have to reproduce..." As he spoke, the camera slowly rose into the air.

He turned to pick it up, flinched, and quickly got to his feet. "Oh! Uh. Hello."

"Hello," the camera echoed in Ford's voice.

"How did you...?" Ford smacked his forehead, eyes wide with amazement! "Of course! My recording! The symbols my journal wrote! This is fascinating. Recording the symbols on magnetic tape must be just as effective as writing them on paper, even if the symbols aren't visible without specialized equipment. I'll have to experiment with other methods of... of..." Ford petered off as the camera slowly floated higher. He held out a hand hopefully. "Please come back?"

"No," the camera said. "Please give me your soul."

"No." Ford took a deep breath, set Journal 2 on the casket, and flexed his fingers. "Okay. Let's do this again."

As the Ford of thirty-odd years ago wrestled with the camera on the TV screen, the much older Ford sighed. That had been fun. Exploring the bizarre and aberrant had still been fun, back then. That thought disconcerted him; was it no longer fun now? He supposed it still was to an extent. He was just worse at having fun. Harder to dazzle.

He wondered why Journal 2 had been so wary of Creature #326. Bill. It had been right, he was Ford's "anonymous informant"—Ford had told him about his hostile new living journal in a dream, and after Bill had finished laughing, he'd taught Ford how to counteract the spell activating it.

But how did it know?

Could it have warned him about Bill?

Ford would never find out now.

The TV went dark as, in the recording, Ford trapped the camera inside a box. Slightly muffled, Ford said, "Try getting out of that!" Under his breath, he muttered, "I think I prefer writing over narrating anyway."

The screen remained dark for another ten seconds as the camera bumped around and muttered to itself. And then it abruptly cut to a shot of Dipper's bed. Off-screen, Mabel's voice said, "Awesome, still works!" She set the camera on the table under the kids' window—

That was what Ford was looking for. He rewound several seconds and began transferring the recording of Mabel's sleepover onto a fresh tape he'd prepared earlier.

After that, maybe he'd go back to the start again so he could see the other symbols Journal 2 had flashed at the camera and copy them into Journal 5—onto a page already prepared with the magic-negating seal.

####

In the Nightmare Realm, a red book with a golden handprint on the cover boldly labeled "2" floated alone in the void, as it had since it had been tossed in the bottomless pit a year ago.

Its tattered pages were splayed open as it drifted weightlessly through the aether.

On one page near the center of the book, a sticky note with a seal drawn on it was attached to the page with a strip of tape, and surrounded by a warning never to erase the symbol on the sticky note.

The tape had lost its stick after decades buried outdoors; it stuck to the sticky note, but not to the book. The sticky note was barely holding on by a corner.

And as the book slowly wheeled through the void, the last corner peeled off, and the sticky note fluttered away.

Journal 2's pages rustled.

####

(I think y'all who have been keeping up with my posts about this fic know exactly what's coming next. 😎

Thaaat's right. 😎😎

An unrelated flashback chapter!!!

Anyway hope y'all enjoyed, let me know what you think!)

[gin-juice-tonic]

So, for Starters: Book Of Bill Spoilers warning. Another opinion from me below. This new one is about the lost journal pages again, of course.

Originally, I wanted to make a super big crazy essay about all the reasons I think the journal pages in BOB (The Book of Bill’s given name) are fake, and show off my super-cool totally completely sound deductive reasoning techniques in the process.  

Unfortunately, knowing myself I’m not sure I’m actually capable of accomplishing such a feat. You all know how I tend to post things in parts, sometimes out of order, often never finished. However I would like to share something in particular that’s been eating at me that I’ve seen… partially discussed, but only partially. And certainly not the part that I would like to discuss. 

It’s about the rats.

You know, the rats.

I saw these rats being talked about since before I was even able to have a look at the book myself. 

But before I get further into it all, I would like to start off with a joke: 

Why did dead rats, eggnog, a land orca, shrimp colors, It’s a Small World After All, and an Anti-Cipherite Suit cross the road? 

Well, that’s easy. To get to the other side. 

Of the book, that is. 

If you’re anything like me, you probably skipped right to the journal pages upon contact with the book. And if you’re even MORE like me, you were probably left a little confounded by them. Not only did they seem… wrong somehow. But they also felt random. Full of odd choices of subject that didn’t make a lot of sense. Could these pages really have come from journal 3? If so, why do parts of them feel so… completely out of context? 

And this is where the rats come in. As I mentioned before, I saw many people discussing them. In particular, they were noting a connection to this passage from earlier in the book:

Many of the related discussions also felt odd to me. Though I lacked the knowledge to be able to articulate why at the time. UNTIL, I read the book for myself from start to finish. That's when I realized something:  This is not the only time something from earlier in the book connects back to the journal pages. In fact, it happens many, many times throughout the earlier passages. (Here is a small collection of them for your perusal.)

And then it started clicking into place. The reasons the pages felt like they were so abnormally out of context… is because they WERE lacking context!

Now, before you can finish saying “Gin, you’re an idiot.” I would like you to ponder these three questions: 

1) Why, if these pages were taken from Journal 3, should they require context from outside of it to be able to be completely understood?

2) Why is it that this context can be found in what Bill Cipher has been writing in the preceding passages up till now? 

3) If you put food in a mogwai’s mouth at midnight EST but drive it over the CST time zone line back to 11PM before it can swallow, will it still transform into a gremlin? 

Okay, you caught me, that third one is unrelated. But the first two I believe require further thinking. So let’s delve a little further into the idea. Consider this the real third question: 

3) Are we to seriously believe that these, the only pages of J3 still lost to us, just so happen to tie into the new topics from the rest of the Book of Bill over and over like this?  

And since you’ve done so well thinking thus far, I’ll ask a fourth question: 

4) Are you aware of the concepts of Watsonian and Doyalist analysis? 

Assuming you don’t and you won’t google it, I’ll skip to the important part. Watsonian analysis is to analyze a story from within it, as if you yourself were Watson making deductions in a Sherlock Holmes novel.  

Now, from a Watsonian point of view, what happens when we try to answer our earlier questions? Why should it be that the Book of Bill provides so many of these points of reference to the journal pages? 

One possible line of thought could be that Bill wrote the earlier passages of his book *around* the idea of what was contained in the pages, but I think this doesn’t work for a few reasons. For one thing, the purpose of the book is to get the reader to make a deal, not to take a whole novel to set the stage for a 3 day mini Ford adventure. For another, not all of what I described prior is really fit to be called “context”, is it? The rats, the “Small World” cassette, and the Bill-Suit are one thing, but Eggnog? Shrimp colors? Land Orcas? I certainly wouldn’t define them that way. If anything, they’d be better suited to being called “references”. And unlike the more contextual ideas, there’d be no real need for Bill to sneak mere references to the pages into his grand story.  And lastly, there are a great deal of Bill pages that have nothing to do with the content in the journal pages at all.

So what exactly am I trying to say here? 

If we do intend to think of the callbacks outlined above as references, the only logical conclusion within the story is that the journal pages themselves are referencing back to the Book of Bill, not the other way around.

But… how? And why? Something Ford has written in the 80’s shouldn't be able to reference something Bill is writing post-weirdmageddon certainly. 

That’s because “Ford” isn’t referencing it at all!

And as for why… Well, have you ever noticed when you're writing a story on the fly, things you wrote earlier all come crashing back to you as you try to wrap things up? I believe personally that the journal pages are not pages actually written by Ford, but more a strange endcap on Bill’s crazy train of thought! That Bill is the one writing them, and the "references" are just fuel that further the pages creation. Almost as if, to quote someone much more knowledgeable than me on this subject…

(This single paragraph has been inserted a good deal after the original writing of this post.) I would like to clarify, I am not trying to claim the ideas presented in the pages have no basis in reality whatsoever. Ultimately, what I'm saying is I think Bill wrote them, and they should be taken with suspicion instead of as complete fact. "Did this event happen exactly this way?", "Does some of this feel distorted?", "Did this part even happen at all?" I think those are questions worth examining with the events detailed on these pages.

In the end, all I've described above (as well as other aspects of the pages I've not mentioned here) leave me with the impression the pages are not real.

As I stated only a bit earlier, the idea that these pages, the only pages of J3 purported to be lost, should be so connected to the rest of the book is beyond coincidence to me. Not to mention that in order to take these pages as total truth, you must give credence to several other passages of Bill's book as well. And I'm not too keen on having to trust him that much.

To all who have read this far, even to those who may have scoffed at the ideas in here or think I've only written up nonsense. Thank you for reading and considering my thoughts.

I am not saying anyone must agree with me on this. I know some people have found the pages to be important and meaningful to them, and I do not wish to give the impression that I think my view is the end all be all correct one, or that I think lesser of those who believe them to be Ford's own writings. I only want to share my own thoughts on them. And to anyone else who found the pages to feel "off" somehow, possibly validate their feelings too.

[ciciyup]

Phantomhive manor (+ Gregory Violet) X Fem! Reader time traveler headcanons.

Summary: You are a time traveler and you have arrived in the Victorian era, how would you fare with certain characters if they met you?

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Ciel Phantomhive

In one moment he was drinking his tea and enjoying his chocolate cake and the next Sebastian had arrived with you at his side. Everything about you seemed to confuse him, from your unusual and very inappropriate clothing to your casual and bland way of speaking.

At first, he only let you stay in his mansion so he could study you, for some reason you seemed to know more than him and even more than Sebastian, and the more time you spent there the more you seemed to confuse him with your strange ways.

The inappropriate clothes you were wearing seemed to not want to take them off while you complained that the corset and the amount of things in the dresses were uncomfortable, which made Ciel roll his eyes more than once, on top of that, in your comments you added that the clothes you were wearing were “the fashion” and “the trend” when Ciel only saw in them two pieces of fabric like a poorly covered window added, in his opinion, to your bad style.

The way you spoke was so strange, that way so casual and without any grace, but at the same time confusing to hear you say words that he had never heard before. He had bothered to look up those words himself in some books, but then he left the task to Sebastian, who soon informed him that those words did not exist... At least not in his time. On top of that, it seemed that you did not appear in any kind of paper that informed about your birth or other important things that should be in people as soon as they are born, which made Ciel stop taking it as a bad move and see the possibility that you really were a time traveler, since Sebastian had ruled out the possibility that you were some entity like a demon, angel or shinigami by not feeling any of that in you.

It was really surprising for him, he would not deny it, to see such a strange and at the same time so useful device. You called it 'cell phone'. It was surprising for Ciel to see a device that could take color photos, see himself on video moments before while doing something random and be able to watch it and replay it. The fact that music came out of that device surprised him quite a bit too, not only because of that, but because of the huge difference between the music of the future and that of his time, it had certainly been a big shock. Surprisingly, some of the songs you taught him he ended up liking, the ones with a soft and pleasant rhythm, and the fact that you put those 'headphones' you had shown him where the music could be heard better turned out to be a great experience.

He seemed to start to trust you more, your conversations were pleasant and you seemed to have a very different kind of thinking than he was used to seeing in people, it was nice in a way. You seemed to have a more open mind, more liberal, without prejudices or hypocrisy.

Maybe with you there Ciel could take advantage of certain things to have an advantage over his adversaries in the business and political sense, after all he was an earl and it was always good to be one step ahead of everyone, if it was three steps then it would be even better. Although he was always on guard and cautious while you seemed to tell him certain things, he took mental notes of what could happen or happen in the future if he didn't change something in the present. It was all very intelligent and strategic on his part.

Finding you had been a great important piece for his game and being aware of more things that he probably wouldn't get to see, but he was pleased to have been lucky enough to have you appear. He just wished you could stay a little longer to be able to appreciate a vision as different and at the same time as pleasant as yours.

Sebastian Michaelis

Surprise was to say the least. This human really had something. He felt curious? Fascinated? You were so strange, your way of seeing everything was so different. Sebastian felt surprised because you even surpassed him in subjects he didn't know about such as politics, future wars, economics. It was fascinating and perhaps also, in a way, a blow to his ego. Why did this human come out of nowhere with all the answers up her sleeve, in such a way that she managed to surpass him in knowledge? Still, Sebastian was an extremely intelligent being with centuries of experience, so even if you had advanced knowledge, he wouldn't feel intimidated. Instead, he would see this as an opportunity to learn and expand his own understanding.

While he lets you settle into the mansion at his master's request, as the days passed, he would soon bring out his sarcasm when he saw your attire and clothes, dropping some sarcastic comments, but always with a polite tone to sweeten.

Seeing the device in your hands and turning it on would surprise him at first, being somewhat impressed by the great advancement of humans in technology and since he is a very intelligent supernatural being, he would quickly learn to use the cell phone and any other device you had with you. He would even dare to take your phone with him secretly just to study it, sometimes to take pictures, videos and other times to listen to music, noticing the great change between one era and another. The photographs and videos would be what would attract his attention the most, enjoying filming some cat that appeared in the mansion and then watching it on the phone.

Despite enjoying certain things, Sebastian would evaluate if you represented a potential threat, being cautious, but without raising suspicions on you. He would always prioritize Ciel's safety so he would stay close to you for a certain amount of time, even if sometimes you wouldn't notice. Coming to the conclusion that you didn't seem to be dangerous or an enemy to Phantomhive, which made him become more friendly and even offered you hospitality while you stayed at the mansion.

He would take advantage of your advanced knowledge to improve efficiency and security at the mansion, as well as a chance to learn about humanity and how they had advanced so much over the centuries. He would come to enjoy the conversations if they interested him enough, you don't always meet a time traveler so he had to get something out of it, it was sure better than hearing anyone else talk about the same old topics.

You were different from what he was used to, clumsy, closed-minded and boring people who had nothing new to offer, but since you had arrived it seemed like you had awakened something in Sebastian that he hadn't felt for centuries. He hoped you would stay a little longer, it would be a shame if he had to go back to the same boring emotions.

Finnian

He was very excited about you, although at first he seemed confused, especially by your unusual clothing, his excitement made him see beyond. Seeing artifacts he had never seen before amazed him, his eyes shining as he took the first picture with so many colors and heard the music coming out of it. Surely asking you for your phone a few times so he could take lots of pictures of himself with big smiles and doing different things or anything in general that he found nice to capture, even leaving the phone without storage.

“Can I really talk to someone who is on the other side of the world right now?” Finny would ask you in surprise when hearing you explain about calls and messages. But surely the game apps would also keep him very entertained, especially the pet care and gardening games, spending so much time there that he would already know how to use most of the things. He seemed to be amused by the fact that you would randomly throw out words that he had never heard before, some of them amused him so much that he would keep them in his mind and would often repeat them, even while there were people there, causing them to look at him in confusion. His enthusiasm could be higher than the looks they usually gave him. Finny liked to learn new things and having met you would definitely continue to fascinate him even after days.

His face would light up as you explain to him the simplest thing for you it would be surprising for him like the fact that there was something called 'internet' or 'television' that made everything easier in everyday life like a blender, bed warmer, cars. Whatever you told him it seemed like the boy would explode with excitement.

He would definitely be mesmerized if you showed him series or movies, whatever was moving on the screen would surprise him, but if they were fantasy movies he would surely enjoy them more seeing the special effects and thinking about how everything looked so real. He would definitely like to know all the musical genres, especially the most lively ones, but at the same time with a pleasant rhythm, trying to imitate modern dances, laughing at his own clumsiness and certain dance steps that made him laugh.

It would be enriching for both of you to have met him. Finny enjoyed your company and everything he managed to learn at your side, but in addition to that he also liked to teach you about his own time by telling you first-hand details and even making you see certain things from a new perspective. Being with him was undoubtedly a breath of fresh air and both of you could have a new look at the world.

Snake

He would be mostly confused by your unusual way of speaking, puzzled by words you used to say at random and not have a specific meaning, it would be difficult for him to understand. Unlike what one would think, even though Snake is a very shy boy, he would not feel ashamed to see you in a different type of clothing or in lesser cloths, since having been in the circus before he lived with people with little clothing or more "revealing" clothing, so although it would still be somewhat surprising and embarrassing for Snake, it would not be on a large scale.

Seeing a phone, something that did not yet exist back then, would make him feel particularly intimidated and think that it is something dangerous, staying cautious while you show him the device. He would be surprised when you showed him videos and people or anything in general moving inside that small device, even his snakes could be attracted and watch while they communicate through Snake asking questions about the device.

What he might like the most would be snake documentaries and anything about snake care. When you used to lend him your phone you would probably find him in the mansion's greenhouse surrounded by his snakes while his eyes were glued to the screen as he watches videos on snake care as well as precautions for when they shed their skin, their habitat, best food, even on wikipedia looking up different things to take care of himself and his friends.

Telling Snake about your knowledge and things that would happen in the future would make him feel intrigued and at the same time fearful thinking about what thing could cause something else to happen and prevent it from happening even if it was inevitable anyway. Also, he would like to know more about how people have evolved, if they were kinder to others, if there wasn't as much fuss when they saw someone different, if they accepted certain things more easily.

Seeing you want to teach him music with those big sound devices that you called 'headphones' would make him feel a little self-conscious, but finally when the music plays his surprise can be seen in him as he feels something he had not experienced before. He would have preferences with some genres more than others, the ones he might like the most would be ambient music, classical music and jazz.

He could get used to your presence in the long run. You seemed to be one of the few people he enjoyed the company of, and he learned more things with you by his side. He wouldn't deny spending a nice afternoon with you while you tell him how much everything had changed over the years and Snake would gladly listen to you.

Gregory Violet

First of all, why was there a girl at Weston College if it wasn’t for some special event? Secondly, he would be very intrigued, so he would take you out of public view if he had the chance so you wouldn’t cause any fuss at the time. Although he might initially keep his distance between you due to being generally reserved, his curiosity would make him approach you little by little.

Despite your unusual attire, Gregory would remain just as reserved, not judging anything about you as he silently analyzes you. He probably wouldn’t care much about how you look or what you wear, perhaps he would at first glance, but then he would remain discreet. He would be interested in the unusual and aesthetically different, wanting to capture the essence of your appearance in his drawings. You would be a source of artistic inspiration and he would want to draw you, but being so reserved he wouldn’t ask you to, at least until he gets to know you more deeply.

Seeing a phone for the first time would certainly leave him in awe. The ability to see color photos and color videos and even be able to take them yourself would leave him speechless. He would be more attracted if you showed him art-related photos with lots of colors and different things like that. Speaking of art, he would definitely be fascinated with the amount of things he could learn on different internet sites about artists’ paintings, drawing ideas, biographies and even reading any pdf book and using apps to draw and create without using pencils or hands would be extremely intriguing to Gregory.

Watching stories told through moving images and sound would be another completely new experience. He might be especially interested in movies, series or documentaries that deal with artistic and historical topics. He would be very intrigued and have many questions about how the device works and how you can see anything through it, be it movies, books, letters, numbers, photographs. How a movie could be created and what kinds of devices would be required to film and make the special effects.

If you had been there long enough for Gregory to become more comfortable, he could draw you, maybe he would ask you or, more likely, he would draw you without you noticing or telling you. He would like to capture your “futuristic essence” and keep those drawings to remember you if the time came when you had to leave. He would also make separate drawings of the electrical devices you had told him or shown him, wanting to remember them too.

It would be a unique experience for him and his memory to have met you and learn about all the new advances of the future generations. The fact that you seemed to have a more open mind and no need to judge would have made him enjoy your company more during the time you shared, after all you had not labeled him as weird or different like most people in his time and he appreciated that.

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[d6volution]

Egress

Jax/Reader [Fem Reader.]

Explicit sexual content. | Also found on my Ao3

tags: sexual coercion, voyeurism, blow jobs, wall sex.

minors dni.

"Listen, just between us two, I believe ya about the.. exit— thing." Jax spoke behind his hand in hurried and hushed flurry of words, eyes mimicking crescents as he blatantly lied to the newcomer. You. 

Being naive and hopeful, your eyes lit up.

Ragatha noticed the mischievous bunny whispering to you and placed her hands on her hips. "Jax! Don't be mean!" The doll recognized that look in his eye and squinted at him. " Y/N, don't listen to Jax. W-Whatever he's saying to you." She scolds.

"Whaaaat?" He threw up his hands in defense but turned back to wink at you before walking away. 

 You were promised an exit, an actual exit. So why did you feel like you were being lied to? Or maybe tricked..? 

"I.. have to find out , even if it is just a trick.. this all a dream anyways so.. it doesn't matter."

You reassured yourself quietly. Footsteps echoing throughed the large and empty corridor that seemed to be leading to a strange , secluded area in the tent. You certainly don't remember this area during Caine's tour. 

 

"Oh, look. You actually made it." Jax was there, and leaning against a wall. His cheshire grin playing on his face. And his sly eyes seemed to linger on your body too long. "Was startin' to think you got lost." He tilted his head a little. 

"Well.. heh, I made it. So.. where's the exit? Did it happen to be a red door? Or was a different color for you? Did it disappear when you looked at it because—" You were rambling, not even aware of the space between you and him closing. He towered over you and your words died in your throat. 

"You done?" Jax stares down at you, he doesn't seem annoyed. Just amused, he knew exactly what he was planning and your naivety was adorable. "Yeah, yeah I'll tell you about the.. exit. But first you have to do somethin' for me sweetness." 

"Like what..?" 

"I think you know what, doll face." His hands rested on his hips, almost to pull your attention to his lower body. And that it did, your eyes fell to his crotch and you caught a glimpse of his bulge outlining his overalls. "You were talkin' so much earlier what happened, huh?" He teased, eyes following yours as you tried to avoid eye contact. 

"I—I .. didn't think, we could do that here." You finally stuttered out, and yet you felt heat pooling at the pit of your stomach. Even in these digital avatars Jax somehow managed to ooze with charisma and charm. Not to mention that shit eating grin that was oddly attractive. 

"Oh, us either. Don't get me wrong we were surprised to find out about.. this too." He gestured and began moving in closer, you instinctively moved back until your back hit the wall. His hand was placed on the wall beside your head. "You scared or somethin'? Look I won't force ya to do anything, actually I'm gettin' pretty bored." His smile dropped in faux disappointment. 

Words seemed to escape you for a moment as you weighed your options and Jax sighed , seeming to back off due to your hesitation. "Well, I guess you don't care about that exit as much as I thought ya did. See ya kid." And just like that he spun around on his heel and started off in the opposite direction. His faux disappointment returning to a smile only when his back faced you. After all, it was only a matter of time before— 

"Wait!" 

Jax's grin only got bigger, "And here I thought you were gonna chicken out." He chuckled and turned around, "Don't worry new stuff, I'll be.. gentle." More or less.

"Wait , wait! Are we— here? What if someone.. sees?" Your eyes darted around, but fortunately it was silent, and not a soul was in sight. Only the echo of your voices were heard, "Nah. Everyones in the main hall, digital feast remember?" 

"Oh, right—" His hand fell onto your shoulder, it was clear he was becoming impatient. "On your knees toots, we don't exactly have a lotta time before they come lookin' for us so let's get to it, yeah?" You fell to your knees and now being face to face with his crotch made your stomach twist in knots. He was big, and he knew it. Your mind was slowly becoming clouded with lust, a feeling that seemed foreign here quickly flooded back into your senses.

"Heh." Jax watched as your eyes seemed to cloud over, he knew that look better than anyone. So he took the initiative and removed him self from his overalls, his thick cock was heavy his in hand. He moved his hips forward and nudged your cheek with the tip. "Best not to keep me waiting sweetheart," His veiny purple shaft seemed to twitch as your lips brushed against the tip. "Nnh. Best not to tease, either." Your lips swallowed up the head, tongue darting against the tip. Inch by inch you were slowly taking him into your hot mouth.. but he was too big, you were barely around the halfway point and you could feel your gag reflex threatening to trigger. 

"Need some help dollface? I know I said I'd be gentle buuutt.. heh, why would I do that?" His hands were on the back of your head now and he slammed his hips toward. Pulling you closer at the same time and auickly bottoming out in your throat.

"Gghck..!!" Your squirmed and gagged on his cock as it filled your throat, your nose was nuzzling his lower stomach. 

"Just like that... there ya go.." His head tilted back a little as he held you in place. 

You could hardly breathe, but damn it. His sudden man handling made your legs press together in need. 

He pulled back, hooded eyes staring down at you. "Hold tight." He smirked before thrusting his hips back and forth, a lewd noise echoed through the hall as he used your mouth like a toy. Grunting and moaning in pleasure softly, all while keeping eye contact. 

For a moment you glanced past him and swore you saw one of Caine's 'all seeing eyes' up in the corner, stationary and staring exactly in your direction. Surely he wasn't.. watching right? "Eyes up, here." His hand suddenly yanked at your hair, before returning to bobbing your head back and forth. "Look at me when I cum, you can do that can't ya?" He spoke in a breathy voice, clearly getting close. You nodded your head as best you could. 

The look of you with drool rolling down your chin and mouthful of his cock was enough to send him over the edge, he held your head in place as he grinded against your face. Ropes of cum filling your mouth.

Desperately you tapped his leg, unable to hold it all in your mouth without nearly choking. He finally back off and slipped out of your mouth with a pop. "Ah-ah." His finger tipped your jaw close and head back a little, "Swallow." 

And you did. 

Even though he seemed nonchalant, standing with his arms crossed he... was still hard. And your core was aching after that, you could feel your garb sticking to your cunt uncomfortably. "Jax.. I.." 

He knew it was coming, he could see it from a mile away. The look in your eye and the way you squirmed was telling enough, "Thought you didn't wanna do this out in the open toots. We should head out, towards the 'exit' you know. This could be your only chance." He taunted, "I.. I know but..! Please can we.. you just.. I.." He couldn't leave you high and dry it wasn't fair. 

"Can I what? Fuck you? You got all hot and bothered after suckin me off sweetness?" He said in a low voice, taking full advantage of your horny state, "Let me hear you say it." 

"I.. want you inside of me, Jax." 

"Heh, and who am I to say no that? Stand up," He demanded and his usually playful voice seemed to drop an octave at the end there. 

You stood up and his hands immediately lifted you from your underarms, holding you up against the wall,  "Wrap those pretty legs around me doll, don't be shy." While in the process of wrapping your legs around him, he reached down to push aside your under clothes and nudge his fat tip at your entrance. and when he was balanced enough he held you up by the plush of your thighs.. angled just right agsinst your core.

"Looks like it'll be a tight fit. But you can take it right?" It wasn't really a question, because his hips began to push forward and the tip bullied its way past your walls, "Hha.. its.. big.. Jax—" 

"I gotcha, relaaxx.. look at that, the way you're, nngh.. sucking me in.. startin' to think this pussy was made me for me." He sighed, and jutted his hips forward forcing a few more inches inside before finally slamming his hips forward and fully bottoming out. You yelped and held him tighter, insides clenching army's him desperately. 

"Sh, sh— you can take it." He coos and moves his hips around while buried so deeply inside of you, nudging at places at that made your head spin. "Please.. move Jax, need to feel you.." You whined and he chuckled in you ear, his grip on your thighs tightening. Finally his hips started to move, in a slow pace at first but he clearly couldn't hold back. 

*Slap, slap, slap.* Your skin colliding echoed in the halls, and the embarrassing sound made you hyper aware of your surroundings for a moment, you held onto to Jax while he pounded into you but your eyes looked past him again. Just for a moment. 

Caine's eyes.. there were three of them now! 

Your core tightened around him at the thought of being watched. Unfortunately for you Jax was a little too aware of your eyes when they weren't on him. Not to mention how tight you just got. 

Without stopping he spun around, holding you and faced the opposite way now, "No wonder you got so tight just now," He laughed looking at the floating eyes in amusement. "You really are somethin'..  get off to be watched." And here he thought this couldn't get any better.  

"No.. nnh.. that's not..!" He slowed his thrusting, then stopped all together. "Oh yeah? Ya gonna keep lyin to me, how about we just stop here— wouldn't want the man himself to see us .. right~?" He cooed and you cursed silently. "T.. That's not fair Jax! Please.." Your cunt clenched around him in need, and he was close to giving in but not yet..

"Then let's hear it, you wanna put on a show don't ya?" His thrusts were slow, tantalizing.. fuck he was doing this on purpose. "Y.. Yes.." You mutteted under your breathe, "Louder." 

"Yes yes!!" 

"See, was that so hard?" And just like that he picked up the pace , thrusting up into you like a jack hammer while hardly breaking a sweat. But he panted and moaned in your ear all the same, "Ngh.." Your legs were tight around his waist and you felt the knot in your stomach about to come unloose, "Yeah, there we go cum on my dick..." You thought he couldn't move faster but he did. Balls slapping your ass he fucked you fast and hard.

"J.. Jax! Jax!" you threw your head back in pleasure as your body finally succumbed to his harsh thrusts, walls clamping down on him violently as you came hard. "Nnh.. yeah, that's it.. take it." He muttered as his he came in near sync with you, his warm seed filling up your cunt. "Hha.. I needed that , thanks toots." He said and chuckled lightly, pulling out of your sopping cunt and lowering your trembling body to the ground so you could collect yourself. 

"The exit..Jax.." You panted out.

"Ohh.. riiight that." He spoke while adjusting his clothes. "I lied." 

"But, you won't hold it against me though, will ya?" 

[thebadboyfanclub]

I Don’t Think I Can Do This (Daemon x Reader)

Hey y’all so I know I was supposed to write another request but my job has cause my imagination to ran dry and this was certainly easier cause i wanted to write something that shows the burden that women carry and also that Daemon is a very grey character, I hope you guys like it

The story of (y/n) Eaglemore and Daemon Targaryen did not start as a love story, one would suppose that seems to be a common trait amongst the concept of arranged marriages, especially to a young maiden of an independent kingdom to the rogue prince Targaryen, their marriage was the establishment of Eaglemore joining their forces with the Targaryens, (y/n) was dressed in her traditional attire with her hair in an intricate style, she was breath of fresh air in the house of the dragons, a proud Eagle that was brave enough to fly with the dragons as the flag with the colors of red and black flew next to the black and red she assumed the similarities were bound as an omen for success.

That was quickly ripped out of her mind at the bedding ceremony that she endured, the prince was not brutal, yet she had hoped that he would forbid it, he was cold and only placed a kiss at the top of her head after it was done before he left her laying while the ones that observed it cleared the room, tears streamed down from embarrassment while the handmaidens helped her get up to assist her with her bath.

-

“Husband!”

She exclaimed excitedly before she skipped over to Daemon who was preoccupied with having a conversation with Viserys was much more important than turning his head to face her, alas the newlywed stood by his side and reached for his hand to get his attention, innocently she squeezed it only to be met with an annoyed expression as he gazed intensely at her.

“What?! (Y/n)! Did they not teach basic manners in your homeland?”

“I-I just, I wanted to give you this, I sewed it for you, it’s the dragon symbol with the eagle”

“Great, give it to the handmaidens, is that all?”

Suddenly she became hyper-aware of the pie of eyes around her, mostly men that had taken interest in the scene that unfolded in the gardens, she felt like a little girl scolded by her father, she bit her lower lip as her shoulders sunk in defeat, the glimpse in her eyes slowly disappearing like a light snuffed out.

“My apologies, I did not wish to interrupt you and the king, I hope you can forgive me, y-your grace”

“It is quite alright, my dear, for what it’s worth I found your creation a wonderful gift, do not pay attention to daemon he has never been good with gifts”

“If that means I have never been good with gifts that have no use then yes, I agree”

“I shall go, excuse me, your grace, husband”

She curtsied before she ran off, her chocolate-colored hair swinging left and right in her ponytail as her eyes looked down to hide the tears that she desperately held back, Daemon watched her and could sense the damage he had caused, sometimes he would catch himself staring at her with purity and interest, he had even smiled once when she struggled to find the right word in his language.

He should have stopped, he should have held his tongue when the evident quiver of her chin started to show when her eyes bounced in different directions as she wanted to gather her composure, but he didn’t, now Daemon stood as still as a grain of salt whilst she once again ran away from him covered in shame.

“She is your lady wife Daemon, must you be so hard on her?”

“A wife that was bestowed to me”

“She is also someone that was bestowed a spouse, yet she took it with grace and is grasping desperately to create the best out of the worst, as a man that prides himself on his intelligence your lady wife has surpassed you, at least in principle and empathy”

Daemon was stunned, as Viserys spoke in such kind words his words slashed through Daemon like the sharpest of knives, this was Daemon's second marriage, and it had become second nature to be rude and unattainable to his lady wife since the bronze bitch shared the same hatred as he did for her, now the cheerful lady with the deer like eyes and red puffy cheeks had been nothing but kind, a foreign pain in his chest started to make Daemon uneasy as she ran further and out of his line of sight.

“If I were you I would be very ashamed”

-

(Y/n) sat in front of the mirror as one of her handmaidens lit her candles and the other brushed (y/n)s hair to prepare her for bed, (y/n) stood as still as she could though her fingers intertwined with one another and twisted in odd ways.

“Could you leave me with Chiara, please? Thank you”

(Y/n) requested softly, the young handmaiden only curtsied before she walked out of (y/n)s chamber, whilst Chiara continued to brush her hair, they had grown into a bond that (y/n) felt comfort in, Chiara was sweet and honest, somewhat older, and had just given birth to her first child, she was the first handmaiden that she met when she got to the red keep.

“Do you love your lord husband?”

“I do, now”

“What do you mean?”

“I married him per my father's request, and he gave the biggest dowry, at first it was difficult, we had to figure out a way to communicate and after a while, I like to think that he grew to love me as much as I love him, though first, we respected one another, then love came gradually”

(Y/n) grew silent, her head hanging low before she bit her lip in defeat, she respected her lord husband? Did her lord husband respect her? After the incident on the morrow, it certainly didn’t feel like it.

(Y/n) had not noticed that Chiara had scrounged in front of her and placed her hands over (y/n)s, she only saw the tears that splashed over the handmaidens' skin.

“You won’t always feel like the outsider”

“I don’t think I can do this”

“You can, it is alright my dear”

One sob came after the other as (y/n)s body shook and Chiara lovingly wrapped her arms around the lady’s frame in such delicacy, it resembled a girl hugging her porcelain doll while she tried to not crack it, in its macabre nature you could identify a certain beauty, someone that had the strength to comfort a disheveled young lady as she navigated through womanhood and all its trials.

What had (y/n) nor Chiara had taken into account was that Prince Daemon had made his way to the half-cracked door, freezing in his sport once the whimpers of agony hit his ears, he peaked through the shadows only to be met with his lady wife letting tears stain her dress and hiccups shaking her hunching back as the handmaiden rubbed circles on her back.

“Prince Daemon is a fool for not acknowledging the precious stone that is you, may the gods bless him and open his eyes before he is taken from us”

Daemon had no reason to intervene, the poor lady was right, he was a fool, here she was, a beautiful and intelligent young royalty crying over his acts, he had always longed for home, for family, and now he kicked and toyed with it.

He should be the one comforting his lady wife, to gaze upon (y/n)s puffy and red face and do his best to calm her nerves, not to be the face of her pain, shamefully he scurried away without a word, mad at his reflection that stared back at him in such high horse, he had become everything he hated, a man that did not care about anyone but himself, stopping at nothing to prove he was right.

-

“Good morrow”

(Y/n) did not respond, she only raised her head and nodded at Daemon that had just entered the dining area, exhausted from crying the lady felt like a family of horses had run over her, getting barely a wink of sleep, evidently so by the veins under her eyes.

(Y/n)s silence was deafening to Daemon, however, he cleared his throat and took a sit next to his lady wife, waiting for a servant to pour him some wine.

“Orange juice? I believe we do not grow these over here”

“A gift from my mother, she said orange juice in the morning is a secret to a woman’s beauty”

“She must be the most astonishing lady back in your line”

“You met her, on our wedding feast, I believe you were too busy to pay attention, like always”

The last comment was barely above a whisper still sharp as a knife right on Daemon's abdomen, Daemon only turned his gaze at her, confused by her demeanor, it wasn’t uncalled for yet it took him by surprise, she always seemed to have the ability to hide her agony at least in public.

“Mayhaps we could go to her, I’m sure she will be more than happy if her daughter visited her”

“Not if my belly is flat, as much as she wanted me to be thin for most of my life she is now sending raven after raven to just check in with my monthly bleeds”

She informed him in a mumbling tone while her hand was rubbing circles on her temples, visibly annoyed over her mother's disregard for her well-being and hyper-focused on her womb.

Daemon was taken back by her comfortability to speak over her monthly visits, brushing it off easily though since they were husband and wife after all, those matters should concern him as well, the idea of a sweet little child running to (y/n)s arms brought him joy.

“It must be uneasy, being put in this position”

“Indeed and if I am being honest, my lord husband has not been making it any easier, with my empty womb nor his attitude”

“I understand you are cross with me”

“Can you blame me? You humiliated me”

Her tone switched from my king to a hiss, her eyes spewing fire as she stared back at him, it was the first time that she dared to show her true emotions, albeit Daemon could detect that it wasn’t just an act of anger but a sense of fear was laying behind those hues of hers.

He was correct, (y/n) feared for her future, the whispers of Daemon's visits to the street of silk, the adoration for his niece, his continuing ignorance over their wedlock, it all came crashing on her chest making it unable to breathe sometimes.

“I came to break my fast with you as a sign of goodwill, I want us to work on our relation-“

“Us? There is no us, you made sure of that my prince, you have crashed all my efforts and now you dare to speak of us”

“I cannot correct my past mistakes, I can only hope that you will allow me to work on our future, you did not deserve my coldness and for that, I sincerely apologize, I only wish for your good graces and for you to allow me to show you how I truly feel for you and our wedlock”

Silence, her eyes focused on his to scatter for one ounce of a lie, alas she was left with nothing, a sigh left her lips as she sunk to her chair defeated, why did the gods curse her with such a difficult match?

“I do not know if I can love you, I tried to desperately earn your affection for so long, I have grown tired of this”

“I know you have and I do not blame you, I beg you, my sweet (y/n), let me try”

His hand had found hers to hold, the warm flesh against hers grew goosebumps, a small beam of light found its way into her soul and a ghost of a smile appeared as (y/n) glimpsed upon their hands locked together, she gave him a subtle squeeze to see if this was a dream or reality.

“I suppose trying couldn’t hurt”

“Thank you, now you must eat, your mother might be right you have lost some weight”

“My efforts of getting accustomed to your foods have not been working”

“You do not have to, we can bring a cook from your homeland, my lady wife shall eat whatever her heart contents”

“There are some delicacies that I believe you would enjoy”

“I am not very picky with food so I will try anything you put in front of me”

Chatter was something (y/n) could easily do, however, even though Daemons spirits were high, (y/n) would steal glances of caution at him, was this another scheme? Or was he genuinely craving her presence and good graces?

“I was hoping you could come to meet Caraxes later”

“I do not know if that is the best idea”

“Nonsense, Caraxes is a part of me, therefore a part of you by law, soon our children will have their eggs on their cradle, if you are surrounded by dragons you need to get used to their presence”

Requests are open!

[vrisrezis]

Love triangle?? With atsv characters

Basically a love triangle between them, their spider alter ego and you … ?

Gwen has been longtime best friends with you and Peter for what feels like forever. Even after peters passing, you and Gwen remained close. Throughout the years, it was only natural for gwen to fall for you, her best friend. Peter had often encouraged her to try and go for it, but she never gave in to the temptation. Not when she has been lying to you for so long about who she really was. While her dad did often speak his mind on the mysterious spiderwoman and his doubts, you always seemed excited talking about her. It didn’t take long for her to find out you were not only a huge fan, but definitely had a bit of a crush.

This was amusing to her, obviously. But it also made her wonder if you felt nothing for the real her, and you just liked some alter ego of hers because she was cool and saved the day or whatever.

How you and spiderwoman met, was not under the best of circumstances. As you can imagine.

Growing up, you were always pretty tough. Fighting for and defending Peter against bullies, it was what drawn gwen to you right away. You always stood up for others, and perhaps in the real world it’d get you in more trouble, trying to help a defenses old man against some mugger, you nearly got real hurt in the process. Thankfully, your celebrity crush was there to web him up.

She remembers the look you gave her, you were so.. awestruck.

You never looked at her like that. Not the real her, anyway.

“Thank you spiderwoman!” you say with glee, a word she would almost never use to describe you.

She clears her throat, seeming off guard by the way you greeted her. Or perhaps she was caught off guard by how beautiful you looked in the moonlight. Is it hot outside or is it just her suit?

“Uh… uh…” she hesitates for a moment, before displaying faux confidence. She nods in understanding, “anytime, hopefully next time I’ll see you under better circumstances, cutie.” she says with a wink, before swinging away.

There’s practically hearts in your eyes, did spider woman… just flirt with you?!

Meanwhile, gwen is freaking the hell out over the fact she just said that. It’s certainly easier to flirt under the mask, she supposes.

You didn’t shut up about spiderwoman for the next week.

Miles was one of your best friends, had been for over a year now. Although this friendship, to many seemed newly found, to you both it felt like you knew eachother forever. You often ignored how Ganke never failed to mention that’s something people in love say about eachother.

Ganke was a close friend to the both of you. He was also very much aware of how miles was keeping this huge secret from you, and he often relayed to miles how he should just tell you already. Miles said no, everytime. So ganke had to resort to desperate measures, on one of your many hangouts with the two males.

“Hey, I’m curious.” Ganke starts, “what do you think of Spiderman?”

Miles nearly chokes, he looks wide eyed at ganke, as if ganke just killed a cat. Honestly, ganke is surprised miles hadn’t brought up Spiderman to you himself before, but honestly miles was terrified of what you actually thought, to the point he didn’t want it mentioned at all in front of you.

But your immediate grin makes miles almost audibly sigh.

“I think he’s awesome! Way cooler than the other one to be honest like wow have you seen that suit? Nice color.” Miles couldn’t help but notice the way your eyes lit up in excitement. How come he hasn’t heard you talk about spiderman before if you liked him so much?

“Hey, miles?”

“Huh?!” he yells, his voice becoming so high pitched it sounded like he was just hitting puberty, making you laugh.

“I- I mean.. yeah… what’s up?”

“Do you think he’s … cute?” you ask, rather curious what miles thinks of spiderman.

Ganke almost laughs at how wide miles eyes are, somehow even wider than before.

You would eventually have the chance to meet spiderman, which was not something miles would be happy about. A fight with a particularly … tough villain had caused much damage to the city. Miles swears, today he had to pull up at least 3 buses by his webs.

However, the bus you were in, as plain as day. He couldn’t see anyone but you, the other people in the bus being a blur to him.

He was scared, so so so scared. The moment you’re out and safe, he wants to hug you. He almost does, but he’s able to restrain himself once he feels gwen tug his arm, warning him of how weird that’d be.

He sighs, but he sees you smile at him, grateful. He’s blissfully unaware of how hot your cheeks are, seeing him in the flesh, in person.

You wonder if he’d be okay with signing an autograph.

Hobie was never the type for being subtle. He was blunt, but because of his casualness about it people do not take what he says seriously. He didn’t plan on making a strong effort to hide being spiderman from you. Because he trusts you, with his life in fact.

You two have fought together on many different occasions, way before he became spiderman. People didn’t like either of you, when you were young at least. Strong and unafraid, and like him, you often spoke your mind about things. Granted, you were a lot nicer about it but still. It’s something he definitely likes about you. To him, falling for you just felt natural. Like it was meant to happen. Like falling for you was second nature.

But over his time of becoming spiderman, he had … well… found out you had a major crush on his alter ego. You did not shut up about how “babygirl” he was. And while this was amusing at first, it annoyed him a little. Did that mean you weren’t interested in him, as hobie, romantically? And if you did find out who he really was, would you still like spiderman? Or would it ruin the imagination for you? And if you did, would it only be because he’s spiderman?

A lot of questions circle his mind, a lot of worry and it isn’t like him. He really hates it. Only you can manage to do that to him.

Eventually, the two of you do end up meeting.

You were known for being a fighter, laws or not, you didn’t care, maybe a bit headstrong in your beliefs. Maybe you got too caught up in things, as you often did. Difference was, hobie was not there to back you up. As he often was.

Not this time though, as apparently Hobie had some unfinished business to deal with. You had no idea what that meant, but you trusted hobie enough that he wouldn’t go off doing something stupid without you.

You were not hobie however, and did something stupid without him.

While yes, the guy had harassed you first and you had every right to be angry with him, you probably shouldn’t have provoked such a big and muscular looking guy. There’s no way you could take him in a fight, but you could always try.

Before you even had the gall to fight this guy, before he can even pull the first punch, webs are shot his way. You gasp in surprise, turning behind you to see the one and only.

His movements are quick, and honestly, spiderman struggles for a little.

If even he struggled during that fight, you didn’t stand a chance. But you’re too busy absolutely fangirl/boy/theythem’ing to even care.

Once everything was said and done, Spiderman turned around to take a look at you. He was relieved you weren’t banged up or anything, though you couldn’t tell. “You aight?” he asked, and typically he was so cool and collected, but around you he had no idea how he should be acting. Thoughts from before still clouding his mind:

He lets them go for a moment upon your excited squeal and has to hold himself back from laughing.

Pavitr mentioned spiderman quite a bit, and very early on when he first became the masked vigilante. He was quick to gauge your opinions, because in his mind you’re thoughts and feelings matter the most to him.

He would quickly learn you loved the guy, so he proudly continued doing the whole superhero thing. However, as time went by he had seen your admiration for Spiderman develop into a crush. Only upon your first meeting with him, though. He couldn’t blame you, he supposed that in your eyes this guy saved your life from imminent peril. In his eyes, he was just doing something that was common sense. Saving you while you were trapped in that bus was not something he needed to think twice about.

And he certainly didn’t think twice about hugging you, either. Despite you two not really being acquainted with one another. He was quick to come to his senses, about to pull away, but you held on. And he realized you needed this hug as much as he did. He combs his fingers through your hair, as if second nature. Just like he normally did, and he was the only one that ever did that. You didn’t seem to catch on in that state, but little did he know how grateful you were towards him. He could only imagine, but it was a fraction to how you truly felt.

“Thank you, spiderman.” You say with such softness in your voice, he’s never heard it from you before.

And from that point on, he did not stop hearing you gush about the arachnid. While he often laughed this off, he wondered if that meant things would be weird between you two if he told you the truth.

[dizzyjaden]

❝ WHY ARE YOU SO COLD? ❞

Scaramouche x Gn! Reader

♤ Summary: You get injured on a fatui mission in Inazuma with Scaramouche <3

♤ Warnings: Head injury from blunt force (not severe) that makes you woozy

♤ A/N: Thanks for the attention on the genshin men hcs post! So many new bunnies here. Sorry if this is a little rushed </3

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

A sharp ring pierces through your ears as you slowly rise from the sudden slumber that had been forced upon you, confusion settling in when you open your eyes to see a blurry hand repeatedly snapping its fingers in front of your face.

"Oh. They aren't dead after all. Go on and thank your luck, boys." A familiar voice speaks. Your vision of blurred shapes and colors slowly adjusts back to normal and finally manages to delineate the image of Scaramouche kneeling down in front of you. Taking in your surroundings, you realize you're on the ground, propped up against a tree, barely sheltered from the downpour of rain, and entirely drenched.

You begin to recall the events that led you here. You can remember that you and the four men that accompanied you were approached by a rather threatening lawachurl that you ended up stuck fighting as they retreated. These men now stood closely together, quivering behind the harbinger examining you. You can't seem to pinpoint the injury you took that caused you to go unconscious, but the dull throbbing in your head wasn't much comfort.

You open your mouth to speak.

"I-"

Scaramouche holds up his index finger directly in front of your face. "Follow my finger please..." He directs your gaze while he carefully moves his hand to the right, and then the left.

"Hm... You might have gotten off easy..." Scaramouche says. "But had I arrived at the scene of your little ruckus a moment later... You have me to thank for your life now, that's for sure."

Your embarrassment visualizes itself by staining your cheeks a bright shade of red. This is your first fatui assignment in Inazuma enacted alongside an actual harbinger, and here you are against a tree with a throb in your head that has certainly become a less-than-admirable sight at this point. On that thought, you brush your hand against your head, it is tender to the touch, but not excruciating.

"Hm... What exactly happened?" Scaramouche asks while standing up straight. "The five of you were supposed to defend the camping grounds."

You are barely acquainted with the four men you were assigned to work with, they do not seem keen on explaining the details of how they abandoned the campground entirely and left you to fight alone. You can not really blame them.

Scaramouche fixates on you instead, awaiting your own explanation rather than hearing it collectively from all of you.

You sigh.

"I recall my four comrades retreating a short while after the battle with the beast began."

Your comrades seem unsure of what to do as Scaramouche turns to face them.

"Is this true? As much as I hate to admit it I wouldn't even be surprised. Fairly new recruits, the lot of you. None of you have been... Broken in just yet." He murmured, a whisk of malice floating in his tone.

Finally, one of your colleagues steps forward and clears his throat.

"It's truly a miracle you arrived when you did, my lord. We retreated because we saw the fight fruitless. There was no way even the five of us could've taken it on."

Scaramouche scoffs at his explanation.

"What a sorry excuse. We are discussing a lawachurl... Yes? There are five of you."

The indigo-haired male sighs heavily and shakes his head. "It only makes sense that the most useless quartet of whiners in Snezhnaya gets thrown at me." He mutters. "I would be less angry, as I am perfectly aware of how unnecessary your company on this mission is. However, your combined incompetence has left someone of potential value injured. That is rather irritating."

The silence is heavy aside from the thundering rain that slaps violently against the terrain. With each moment of quiet that passes, Scaramouche seems to grow more irritable.

"You have nothing more to say?"

The soldiers do not respond. Scaramouche sighs, then lightly claps his hands together and smiles at the group.

"Since you four are clearly out of practice and in desperate need of a little exposure therapy, find me a lawachurl, defeat it, bring me back its horn. Don't come back until you do. You should be thanking me for this opportunity to grow." He orders. "If that doesn't suit your tastes, we can do this... Another way. But it won't be nearly as amusing to you."

"Y-Yes lord harbinger!" The one who spoke before bows swiftly, and practically drags his fearful team off.

Scaramouche glances at you from over his shoulder as you were left alone with him.

"Can you stand?"

Coming from him, any questions feel more akin to orders. Therefore, you begin to shift your weight entirely on the tree behind you, grabbing the trunk with a hand before Scaramouche rushes forward to support you instead. This comes as a surprise to you, but you are in no position to deny his assistance.

"I sincerely apologize... I feel lightheaded, still." You utter, as he pulls you up and allows you to put your weight on his side. His hat instantly protects you from the rain, causing you to breathe a sigh of relief. "This normally would not happen... I'm not used to defending others in battle."

"Well... If those bumbling idiots made the cut into the Fatui, I advise you to get used to it, quickly." Scaramouche said cunningly, beginning to walk you back to the campground. "I absolutely despise when they hand easy assignments to new recruits. They are not required to be here, and it always leads to me babysitting."

You can't help but smile slightly, it's not an everyday occurrence you casually converse with harbingers. Sensing the humor in his tone of voice, you just have to engage a bit.

"Ah, is that what you call sending a group of incompetent cowards off to fight large monsters? Babysitting?"

Scaramouche rolls his eyes.

"Trust me when I say that was the kindest I've ever been in this sort of situation."

As he guides you back to the campsite, your mind trails to various thoughts about how stiff and cold he is against your side. You didn't want to make too big of a deal out of the proximity with him, but it was so unexpected. It feels as though every muscle in his body is firmly tense, and his skin is noticeably cooler than the rain that you had just been nearly submerged in moments ago.

Curiously, you steal a side glance at his face as quickly as you can. It was already obvious to you that he is beautiful, but his features are so picturesque and devoid of flaws that they almost look unreal. Doll-like and hand-crafted. Something about him feels uncanny to you.

"Something on your mind?"

You're snapped out of your trance at his words, you swiftly shake your head and remain quiet the rest of the way.

When the two of you arrive at the campsite, he's quick to help you into a tent.

"Alright, rest well-"

"You're leaving again?" You instinctively cut him off.

He raises an eyebrow at your intervention.

"No, I already completed the mission while the rest of you were here." He stated. "But you should sleep, if you're going to be worth anything tomorrow."

You stare at him wordlessly for a few moments. He doesn't seem bothered by the unoccupied silence for whatever reason, but he does eventually speak up once more.

"What is it?"

You smile. "You are a rather interesting individual. I've worked for you a while, but have never gotten to speak to you one one-on-one before."

Scaramouche seems surprised at this, processing your words for a few short seconds.

"Hm? So, that's what you've been thinking of. I thought you were behaving overly placid for someone who just sustained a head injury... Alright then, I'll give you a bit of my time in compensation for working alongside amateurs today." Scaramouche nodded, joining you in the tent. He sat on his knees in front of you.

"You've got my attention. What do you wish to speak to me about?" He asks

A slight hum leaves your lips as you contemplate the confusion you felt before.

"Why are you so... Cold?"

Scaramouche almost seems amused at your words, choking back a snicker by clearing his throat.

"Well... It is raining-"

"You are much colder than the rain." You chime.

This time, he seems at a loss for words. He takes your hands in his own and brushes his chilled fingers over them.

"Why are you so warm?" He asks, an honest demeanour flickered through his eyes.

You shrug slightly.

"Metabolism? Body heat generates in organs... Like your heart."

He nods knowingly, as if you somehow managed to find the answer to the question you'd asked him with that response alone.

"Sleep well tonight, okay?" Scaramouche patted your shoulder. "I will need to make preparations for travel. Let me know if you need anything."

And just like that, he left the tent as you struggled to think of something else to say to him.

"Oh... Goodnight."

[thegoldencontracts]

Hear me out:

MC is basically a Tsum Whisperer and basically see a Tsum Azul out in the wild.

((It waved tiny contracts and is aware of his cuteness))

So they bring it back to Azul.

I'm hearing you out and you're absolutely right.

Tsum-Whisperer

Summary: You seem to have a unique talent for making tsums move— all you need is a flute! So, of course, you use it on Azul's tsum. And the little creature seems to take a liking to you!

Notes: Tsum! Azul's so cuteeee <3

You had many regrets pertaining to your life. Many, many things that you longed to undo. Things never come to fruition; wastes of time.

Right now, however, learning to play the flute certainly wasn't one of them.

The tsums could be—put lightly—a tad overly energetic, restraining them often proving to be almost impossible. You'd seen the painstaking efforts some had taken trying to do just that, only to fail miserably.

So, when you looked up from playing a little tune on the flute to see a crowd of tsums gathered around you, it was quite the relief.

An easy way to get them under control. One that didn't involve getting into fights with a literal plushie, or trying to make said literal plushie play Call of Duty. You always made sure to keep an eye out for any stray tsums, in case you could help bring them back.

And right now, you were face to face with Azul's tsum.

...You didn't really know how. Usually, the tsums didn't just— Just directly approach you like this!

Still, there you were, huddled up as the tsum climbed up to your knees, making firm eye contact with those beady eyes of its.

And it pulled out a contract. Very cutely.

"Aww," you crooned. "Hi there, tsum tsum!"

Azul Tsum smirked. That damned creature knew how adorable it was.

"Do you need-"

It nudged the contract towards you. Was this some sort of trick? Had Azul put it up to this to make you sign something?

"Nice try," you said, pushing the contract away—gently, of course. "I'm gonna take you back to Azul, got it?"

It pouted, jumping up in anger. As expected.

You just played your flute, instantly calming it as it started following you.

Now, for the trip to Mostro Lounge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Making it to the VIP room was easy enough, even if you had to pay for a drink in the process. The hard part would be dealing with Azul. That infuriatingly suave yet ultimately cold businessman; a man who effortlessly ensnared Azul into his webs of honeyed half-truths, before practically devouring them whole.

...And your crush. Yes, it was odd, but you would process that some other time! For now, you had a Tsum to return.

"Special delivery!" You said as you swung open the door to the VIP room. Neatly organized columns of paperwork were piled up on Azul's desk, a few certificates and generic marketing posters hung up on the wall. The furniture was almost painfully pristine, leaving you with the odd yet clearly untrue feeling they'd never been touched; as if the chairs were never sat upon, the drawers never used.

It felt almost inhuman, as did Azul's perfectly corporate smile as he looked up from the study guide he was drafting to meet your gaze.

For a split second, though, it seemed like that smile was meeting his eyes.

"Is there something you requi- Oh, thank you kindly," he said, as you plopped the tsum onto his desk. "Please claim reimbursement for your obligatory drink, along with a twenty-percent-off coupon for your next drink here as repayment."

Almost robotically, he pulled an off-white envelope with a lavender seal from a pile of identical envelopes—not to be confused with the seven other piles, each of which contained envelopes with a slightly different shade of off-white, only able to be differentiated by the color of their seals—and handed it to you.

You ripped open the envelope, causing Azul's face to crumple in a mix of disgust and discomfort for a split second before it returned to the corporate smile, and revealing a perfectly uncrumpled bill atop a coupon that looked much too fancy to be called a coupon. How— Azul.

"Do you really have a pile of these lying around?" You asked, stepping a bit closer to the desk. There was still quite a gap, the VIP room was spacious, after all, but you were just a bit closer to Azul now.

The tsum, sensing an opportunity, instantly jumped up at you, landing on your arm with the contract back in hand. Azul let out an almost calculated chuckle.

"It wants you to sign, it would seem," Azul said. "Do you truly intend on crushing this little creature's hopes?"

Was he amused? Did he have ulterior motives? Secretly annoyed? You simply couldn't tell.

The tsum nudged the contract closer to you, still refusing to depart from your arm. You were quite thankful the flute was in your bag, out of its reach.

"I- uh- don't have a problem signing, but- a pen-"

The tsum handed you a pen. Azul's expression still hadn't changed a bit.

"It seems you've run out of excuses," Azul said with a laugh. "Do indulge the creature's wish now."

And so, unable to resist, you signed. If this was how you got scammed by Azul—

The tsum unfurled the contract. In sloppy, large letters, it said:

'Be frens?'

You laughed.

"Would you look at that?" You said. "It just wanted to be friends. How cute."

"Indeed," Azul said.

"Way cuter than you and your contracts," You said jokingly. A scowl briefly crossed Azul's lips.

"Does cuteness truly matter?" He said. "There are many factors that determine my clear superiority over the little creature."

"Are there, now?" You said, raising an eyebrow. Azul's face fell in displeasure. A genuine displeasure, not the manufactured slight judgement to establish an air of superiority, or the clearly feigned hurt for the sake of being a pedant.

"Do you truly believe I'm inferior to the tsum?" He said. It took quite a few seconds for the underlying emotions to dawn upon you.

"You're- Jealous of the tsum?" You asked. In an instant, Azul realized you'd caught on, scrambling to compose himself.

"Well- I- er- it's merely a creature-"

"It's alright, r-really!" You said hastily. "I don't actually think you're worse than the tsum. You've got a lot going for you, like your smarts, work ethic, talents, soft voice, good looks—"

Damnit. You'd said too much.

"Er, pardon?" Azul said, looking less creeped out and more... Flustered. Like he was overjoyed yet embarrassed.

No, no. It was probably all in your head. Just-

"I gotta go!" You said hastily. "Bye, Azul!"

And with that, you dashed out the VIP Room, after you left, Azul smiled fondly, looking at the tsum with a sigh.

"I really was quite foolish to envy you," he said. "After all, one cannot date a Tsum."

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Maybe a drabble in which our Lamb meets Chimaera Reader, the maker of all crowns? Like, he stumbles upon their lair, and sees all types of the crowns, big and small, black and white, one-eyed and two-eyed, etc.? Maybe even a little inter actions between the Reader and the Red Crown in which it recognises them as their maker?

Sorry for my English, it is not my native language-

Also sorry if this request repeats, tumblr May have doubled it-

I swear I'm gonna turn this into an OC one day because I LOVE the concept of a crown maker in the COTL universe

........

'Where am I now..?' Lamb pondered as they stepped into a cavern--one most unfamiliar to them.

It was strange, considering they've scoured nearly every corner of the Old Faith for resources, potential rival cult activity, and even martyrs for the Bishops.

But this area was entirely new to them.

With their weapon drawn, they cautiously ventured further inward, eventually arriving into a larger room that was almost entirely cloaked in darkness. They could barely see a thing even with the few torches scattered around lighting the way.

Then suddenly, they saw a bunch of eyes opening up on all sides of them, varying in shape, size, color, and number. And they just stared down at the little sheep.

While they were accustomed to having so many eyes on them, this was completely different.

These eyes certainly didn't belong to any follower of theirs.

What if this was a trap?

What if-?

"Welcome, little Lamb! Promised liberator of the Old Faith!"

Looking upwards, they could see you descending from the darkness. You looked like a tradition chimera: a lion, goat, dragon, and snake all mixed into one. Both of your heads smiled as you took a seat upon your throne, although you frowned a bit upon realizing how poor the lighting must have been.

"Oh forgive me, it is awful dim in here, isn't it? Hold on one moment." Your lion head breathed out a small blast of fire, aimed towards a nearby candle that lit up.

That set off a chain reaction which lit up dozens of other candles around your lair, and burned the torches bright enough for Lamb to see what all those eyes belonged to:

Crowns.

So many crowns.

Big and small, black and white, one-eyed and two-eyed..and even multi-eyed; some sported horns and some did not. Others had bare surfaces while others were decorated with jewels or marred with scars from time.

It was an astonishing sight, and when Lamb looked back up at you, they could see a crown on each of your heads--snake tail included.

Not to mention your seat was adorned with four familiar ones...

"So you..take crowns from fallen gods?"

"Do I take them?" You repeated, before laughing uproariously. "No, but I can see why you'd assume that. I'm [y/n], Maker of the Crowns."

They blinked. "You created the crowns?"

"I have since the first gods ruled over these lands." You chuckled, taking the Green Crown into your paw. "I mold them into a design of my liking, give them life, and then send them off into the world to find a worthy host. They're like my children, so I do get sentimental at times...but I know they'll do great things."

'Huh...Leshy did say the crown found him..' Lamb mused.

"Of all the ones I've created, though, I never thought to see the Bishops' crowns again. But they were in such terrible condition...falling apart, barely able to keep their eyes open....I couldn't believe it." Your gaze shifted down to the sheep. "You wouldn't happen to know why, would you?"

They tensed. "...well...um-"

"Haha! I only jest, Lamb. I know everything." You smiled reassuringly. "I've sensed strong spikes in their energy, and I'm well aware they've been used as aids for the bishops after Narinder's betrayal. Speaking of whom...."

Pausing, you outstretched your paws towards them. "I see the Red Crown has found a new master."

"It's a long story, but--hey!!" All of the sudden, the Red Crown slipped out of their hands, morphing back into its normal form as it began floating up to you. They were shocked and angered, feeling extremely vulnerable without it. "What are you doing?!"

"Nothing, little one. It came to me all on its own. Welcome home, my darling." With the crown nestled into your paw, your smile grew as its eye stared back up at you with happiness. You sighed and brought it closer to your cheek, allowing it to nuzzle up to you. "Oh how I've missed you, mighty crown of Death. I'm glad you have not forgotten me."

"Give it back!!" Lamb snarled, baring their sharp teeth as they tried storming up to your throne. But their little hooves kept slipping on the skull pile that served as its foundation, and they eventually tumbled downwards, landing on their rear. "I need it back right now!"

"...are they always like this?" You muttered to the Red Crown, who just rolled its pupil in response. "Huh, I thought so. Arrogant, entitled, paranoid....just like your first master-"

"Don't compare us." They scowled. "Narinder was worse than arrogant...he would have destroyed this entire world, along with you and all these crowns if I returned it to him! We are NOTHING alike."

"Hm, I see I've touched a nerve. My apologies. I just wanted to take care of this little chip in its horn." Smiling, you manifested some black ichor to seal the crack you discovered on the crown, before sharpening up its horns a little bit. "There. Much better."

"....thank you. Now may I have it back?" Lamb put their hand out, growing more anxious with each passing second they were separated from it. 'Why isn't it returning to me?"

"It doesn't see why it has to right at this very moment...and quite frankly, I don't either. It's not connected to your lifeforce. You're still standing without it-"

"Because I'm its new master! I gave it new purpose. I gave it freedom...and it should be obeying me unconditionally and I don't understand why it's being so stubborn. That crown wouldn't be anywhere NEAR as powerful if it weren't for-!!"

"Choose your next words carefully," you tutted, shaking your head as you gestured to the walls. "My children do not look it, but they too have ears."

Falling silent, they looked all around, noticing that the crowns were now glaring at them. They tensed up, a feeling of heavy discomfort and embarrassment washing over them as they slowly realized how childish they were acting.

And in front of the crown creator, of all people?

"Tell me..do you see the crown as nothing without you? Or perhaps you feel like you are nothing without the crown?"

"........"

"Your mistake, little lamb, is that you see crowns as simple tools to do your bidding. A conduit for your godhood. But do not forget, they are also living breathing creatures like you and I." You chastised. "As such, they deserve respect. I figured you would've been more grateful to meet their maker...such few have the privilege to enter my lair and receive such a warm welcome."

The Red Crown bobbed up and down in agreement, before it scowled down at Lamb, as though to say "you better listen to them and treat me better".

They just looked at the ground, unable to form words as shame creeped up their spine.

You sighed softly. "I understand your worries as a new god. The mere thought of separation from it drives you to rage, especially after what happened between you and Narinder. But I have no desire to take it from you. Not when you've fought so hard for it. All I wish is that you continue caring for it."

"....I'm sorry, Great Crown Maker.." Lamb muttered, finally letting themselves be humbled. "I don't mean to act like I did. It's just...he's been annoying me all day today, shouting about "divine right" and making my life a living hell. He still can't accept that it chose me over him.."

They felt the familiar and comforting weight of the Red Crown returning to the wool atop their head, but they only looked up at you with respect. "Thank you."

"Of course, young one." You nodded, smiling once more. "Narinder has possessed that crown since he was a wee little kit, so it's going to be quite a long time before he lets that grudge go. Perhaps in a hundred years, give or take."

"I understand...so.." Lamb looked around. "Do you have any wares?"

"Oh, plenty!" You clapped your paws together. "Feel free to take a gander! Since this is your first visit, you may have one of the tarot cards over there on the house. But just know that the crowns aren't for sale."

[thewertsearch]

Familial Determinism

Or: let's make wild, uninformed guesses about the troll Ancestors, based solely on the lives of their descendants!

As a bearer of the lowest blood on the hemospectrum, Aradia’s ancestor was probably as poor as she is. She may have been an archeologist like her descendant, assuming the field existed in her era, but I'm much more interested in her potential necromancy.

On the instruction of your ANCESTORS, you have recovered MYSTERIOUS TECHNOLOGY from the ruins, and convinced a friend to adapt it into a GAME THAT WILL BRING ABOUT THE DESTRUCTION OF YOUR CIVILIZATION.

See, due to her bloodline, Granny Megido is the most likely ancestor to be behind the Voices. She's the only one who can claim a direct relationship to Aradia, and I think she was probably still around in the modern era - as a ghost, of course - guiding her young protege, as she worked to trigger the apocalypse.

What's your story, Granny Meg? How did a lowblood medium discover the secrets of Sgrub, centuries before it arrived? How much did you know back then - and how much influence do you still have, even now?

If Alternia's past is anything like its present - and it certainly seems to be - then I can't see Tavros's ancestor surviving there for long. If he survived to adulthood, then it was probably as a peaceful nomad, or perhaps some sort of ranger.

Either way, I don't think he'd involve himself with other trolls, instead preferring to spend time with his planet's wildlife. Basically, I'm picturing Snow White with a mohawk.

Sollux’s ancestor is undoubtedly still a techhead. I know it's centuries in the past, but this is proto-Sollux we're talking about. He'd invent technology if he had to.

Actually, that might have been his role. He could have been one of Alternia's first engineers, leveraging his Sgrub foreknowledge to contribute to Alternia's technological advancement.

Congratulations, Sollux Senior - you helped turn a nation of pirates into a space empire.

Karkat's an interesting one. In a more primitive society - ie, one without Imperial Drones - it might have been easier for him to hide his blood color.

...actually, he might not even have Karkat's blood color. It's possible that Karkat's candy red mutation is unique to him, and the other Vantas has yellow-green blood, like his Trollian position implies he should. That would result in an ancestor with a very different social position to Karkat, and the two could be substantially different as a result.

Nepeta’s current lifestyle would translate perfectly to a primitive Alternia. Her ancestor could easily still live in a cave – and since shipping is probably her calling, too, I'm picturing her as an accomplished matchmaker.

Kanaya’s situation is rather unique. Jadebloods are rare, and inextricably linked to the Mother Grub, so her ancestor has some of the strongest ties to her counterpart.

We're actually aware of an ancient Mother Grub, who may have been alive in the time of the ancestors - which hints at a relationship between Kanaya's ancestor and the next troll on our list.

That would be Terezi's ancestor, whose symbol adorns the Doomsday Scale. This device was probably a collaboration between the Pyrope and Maryam ancestors. Its purpose is unknown, but the Gate symbol is proof that someone had Sgrub foreknowledge. Curious.

Anyway, aside from this side hustle, Pyrope was probably a legislacerator. I wonder if the Alternian legal system was as broken then as it is now?

Equius... well, I don't really know, actually. He certainly feels like the kind of guy who’d model himself off his ancestor, so he was probably a pro-hemospectrum horse enthusiast.

Gamzee’s ancestor could have gone one of two ways. If Sopor Slime existed back in early Alternia, he might have been as docile as his descendant used to be. If it didn’t, he was probably the exact kind of bloodthirsty monster that Gamzee is currently regressing into.

I know which option I'm putting my money on, and it's the one that would make Gamzee proud of his 'Subjugglator' ancestors. Can you guess which?

Eridan’s ancestor is the Orphaner, which makes me think he has a similar role as a slayer of lusi. My best guess is that he killed the custodians of adult trolls.

Feferi is an odd case, because her ancestor would probably be an extremely famous historical empress. Fuchsia blood is so rare that Feferi is literally the only modern troll who has it, so I wouldn't be surprised if her ancestor was revered in her time.

What did you do to Alternia, Pexies? Did you help make it what it is, or - like your descendant - did you try to make it better?

[tarjapearce]

soccer family

how did miguel propose 👀💍

The serious questions yo ❤️✨

Hope you like 🥹✨

Time and life were funny. Sometimes funny in the good kind of way, sometimes in the oddest sorts. If someone would have told Miguel those three years ago, in that evening at Peter's carneada that he would meet his future wife, he'd surely would've just rolled his precious mahogany eyes at cuss in spanish at whoever speaking such nonsense.

He wasn't in the look for someone, yet there you were, his serendipity. Coming into his life like an unforgiving hurricane of things and emotions he had never had the time nor the interest in experiencing at their fullest.

Yet, there you were.

Blatant, not giving two shits on his scary nature, fascinated by him through and through and brazen for making a move. That had surely sealed the deal for him.

He wasn't one for backing away from difficulties, he knew much the challenge he represented to others. And still, you did not only pass it with flying colors, but had actually enjoyed it. Enjoyed him; and in all truth, he enjoyed you too.

Enjoyed the push and pull you offered, the demented moments that certainly earned his brain another wrinkle since he was learning so much from you. Enjoyed your attention and how willingly you'd bask him into it. You were his nepenthe.

How gentle and patient you were with him, when everyone expected so much out of him. Of course he was a genius, or else he wouldn't be into the Lab's head division back in Alchemax. But the way you made him experience things felt surreal, and the feeling increased ten times fold when you shared your first kiss.

The way your lips had tasted and devoured each other was engraved into his core memories. The way you both had explored and shared your emotions was exciting, thrilling yet oh so scary for him.

He wasn't one used to be taken care of. He was the caretaker. A self imposed role he always seemed invested in. But your little ways of weaving into his heart and mind showed him a new perspective of the world he often ignored.

He'd never forget how gentle and careful your tiny fingers were, when helping him patching up in that dirty soccer game. How shameless you were enjoying his reactions. How gorgeous you looked when your eyes wrinkled when laughing your ass off at his suffering. Cruel, but so so hypnotizing.

You'd soon become his wonderwall. His obsession and the only reason he'd go to social gatherings really. If you were there, everything was as it should be. Wonderful, the world would keep spinning normally, but in the few times your absence said present, he'd go home early. Bored out of his mind, the rest was too simple and unworthy of his attention.

Of course, women threw themselves at him. Appearance wasn't something he indulged too much neither care. He was aware of his looks, specially on his little pair of abnormal fangs you loved to feel, for whatever reasons.

"I just do." You'd tell him. And that was more than enough motive to stop worrying over them. You loved them. You loved him.

Every bit of his unwanted self, you made sure he'd know how much you enjoyed it, how much you cherished that certain part he had grown uncomfortable with through his younger years and he'd do the same for you.

After you had shared your bodies, there was no turning back for him. He gave everything of himself into you. His flesh, his scent, his energy and love to you. Something so raw yet pure that turned you into his inspiration, his muse.

You always strived to be better, for yourself mostly.

"How can one be the best version of oneself if we don't grow ourselves as individuals? I want you to have the best of me."

You'd shared in between giggles and drunken thoughts.

He adored your drunk self but would never admit it out loud. You'd come up with the most random yet brain eater questions you could imagine.

He'd fear that day that nearly lost you completely over his stupid pride. A fight ignited by your family. A reason to rarely and never visit them.

He loved your mind. And as months passed on you both, he learned how to love your flaws as well.

And now, three years after, you had given him one of his most precious gifts. His firstborn. His daughter. His child. The result of his unbridled love towards you.

You were his. But of course you had no ways to prove it to the world.

He'd spend hours if possible, watching you through loving yet stoic eyes, feed his little bundle of love, that was overjoyed whenever he held her.

A little Gabriella that was now deep asleep into her crib, in her own room, under his roof. Of course you'd move in with him when Gabi was born. It was the right thing to you.

Six months had passed since her birth, and three years with six months had passed since he met you.

You crawled under the sheets, quanked, yet with the little bits of energy you had left, curled into his chest. Seeking his blanketing warmth. His chest your safe space.

"Took me longer this time to make her fall asleep"

"Yeah. Maybe we should take her to the doctor."

His brows knitted together briefly before kissing your forehead.

"I'm pretty sure she'll be fine."

Silence crawled on you both as you just relished into each other's company. His heartbeat kept pounding in his ears.

The past year and a half had gone through but a certain question was always present. Why hadn't he ask you sooner? It didn't matter.

You remained at his side. So ever loyal, so brave, so rident and brisk. You were exactly what the hypothetical cupid delivered him after his secret longings.

"Mi reina?" (My queen)

An endearing term he only used when discussing serious matters. Despite the exhaustion taking your body hostage, you inquired him with a small and sleepy 'Hm?'

"Would you marry me?"

Eyes looked up at him, a mix of surprise and anger. Surprise that he'd ask such thing out of the blue and anger for the question to be so... powerful and simple that left you speechless. And still, you couldn't help but chuckle out of nervousness.

"It's not a laughing matter corazón. I mean it. Would you marry me?"

You felt your left ring finger being adorned with a golden band that against all odds was perfect in your finger. Like he had forseen this for quite the time.

But it also made sense. All those little moments of him touching and examining your hands resumed into this moment.

"Of course I wanna marry you, tontito" (dummy)

He chuckled as he caressed your hair in his own self grounding and reassuring touch.

"Good. Good."

"Te amo."

His heart wasn't raging anymore, but soaring into this quiet and maddening joy. You had said yes. The words he so yearned for you to say , finally spoken to his heart.

"También te amo, preciosa."

Your own heart soared in bliss at the words you had been secretly practicing over and over. You no longer had to practice, since one of your secret and wildest dreams had came true.

[coffee-with-mint-syrup]

The case of live-action atla zutara.

First of all, the scarf scene. I won't be repeating myself, here are some main points - there was absolutely no reason for Zuko to act the way he did and for the scene to be shot this dramatically. Even if they did the shipbaiting in this scene - it means there's a ship which is much more than live-action kataang has at this point. Also I don't really think these guys are shipbaiting type but that's just the impression I got.

Then - the second obvious one - Oma and Shu's visuals. We have star-crossed lovers from two towns at war, basically the local equivalent of Romeo and Juliet (as in legendary lovers who are known above all for their love) wearing coincidentally colors that are primarily associated with two of our characters (who shared this dramatically shot scene in the previous episode).

And I know, it may seem so insignificant - but but but but! - you have to think about this. Of course there are creators, writers and showrunners that are unaware of some non-canon ships or don't care about them. But it's not the case for atla. No, creators of atla were so aware of zutara - they wrote a parody scene in a in-world trashy play to mock this fan pairing and it still proved absolutely nothing and just gave zutara more content. The creators and writers of this adaptation clearly had the discussion "what we should do with kataang" - because there is no trace of kataang in the 1st season. So it was a conscious decision to omit that - but where would the romantic subplot go? Well, I don't know, but they are showrunners, they most certainly discussed options. They are clearly very, very, very much aware of zutara. And they still do this? They still show us Oma and Shu wearing red and blue? All they had to do is to give at least one of them any different color. Any. But they didn't. (for fuck sake, it is the Earth Kingdom - yellow and green would do it)

There were zero, no, nada Kataang interactions, implications or those scenes that are filmed just a little bit too dramatically like the scarf one. I don't know, there's still a chance that they will wait for season 3 to make Aang's crush on Katara happen. I'm also not so sure what will happen to Aang failing to open seventh chakra, I mean - his love for Katara has a huge purpose in series, so it still doesn't look very good. But you can't even imagine how glad I am that they didn't do this secret tunnel thing. It was very uncomfortable.

So it was the more fact-based part of my case, let's get to the irrational, almost delusional part, tin foil hat probably needed.

Almost all the scenes Zuko and Katara shared in the first season kept reminding me of another famous enemies-to-lovers ship that actually became canon in the infamous final episode - Reylo, the way it was filmed in The Force Awakens. I mean - the first fight in the woods where she looses, the intensity of him staring at her, the final fight in snowy location where she kicks his ass and shows her mastering this superpower, him trying to talk to her during this fight and mentioning her learning/having to learn...Zuko calling Katara a peasant reminded me of this "Rey is no one" discourse. I don't know man, I haven't thought about The Force Awakens reylo for a very long time and it just kept popping in my head.

All of this - it's like a blueprint for enemies to lovers.

Also I actually think that the look they shared in the 2nd episode was also shot kinda weirdly and dramatically. It's not to the extent of the scarf scene but I do remember thinking that "why did they film it they way? it's too intense".

In the conclusion I'd like to say that as much as I like all the season 1 zutara stuff they left out in the adaptation - necklace subplot and implications, pirates and the famous "You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun" - I think I actually prefer the scarf scene. Yes, it would be so great to see those things in adaptation but in the end of the day they would still be just the things they kept from the original and probably noting more. Like the cabbages or the secret tunnel song or anything else, just things from the source material that implicate nothing. While the scarf scene, the Oma and Shu's clothes - it means they made a conscious decision to make it that way. It means they put some thought into that and some meaning. And this gives me hope there's a chance for Zutara in this adaptation.

P.S. I told about this my sister who hasn't watch the series yet and she said "I think people who made this show are just shipping zutara in secret". I do not necessarily imply she might be right - but creators of animated series (the very same people that made kataang canon, not zutara) DID leave because of some creative differences and because they couldn't control creative decision. Might as well be THAT kind of decision.

[kurogane2512]

Could you maybe do a Chiori with an s/o who is a fatui Pyro agent? Like, Chiori is always willing to patch their outfit and other general fluff?

Bonus for some slightly more steamy bits with Chiori feeling up her s/o while taking their measurements?

I really like the look of the pyro agents:p

That's honestly such a unique idea I love it <3 I agree tbh I also find the pyro agents really cool looking, probably one of my favorite enemy designs ;)

Game: Genshin Impact

Characters: Chiori x Fatui Pyro Agent!Reader (tried to make it gn but I imagine it to be male tbh)

Type: Fluff hcs with some suggestive bits

Relationship with a Fatui soldier was most unexpected for Chiori, even now she finds it hard to believe she's really dating a Fatui. She wonders how she ended up this way, but once she goes down the memory lane of your meeting then she knows it too well why she fell for you. You met her as a normal customer at first, just wanting to have some new clothes made. It wasn't in your hands that she discovered your rather unpleasant job; but thankfully, she didn't treat you differently after that.

You had grown up in the House of the Hearth, Chiori also knew all that you had faced in your childhood and the things you are made to do as a Fatui soldier. She often thinks herself to be foolish, how could she trust all that you said? She even had Chevreuse do some background checks on you and while Chevreuse couldn't find much, she did confirm most of your past to be correct. So here she finds herself in a relationship with a Fatui, and having no regrets.

Chiori would be lying if she said she hasn't observed your outfit in more moments than she can count. Not only yours but even other Fatui she has seen around, it's quite a remarkable handicraft she admits. Among all, she certainly finds your uniform the most attractive. Everything is so well put together- the color, the design, the patterns, the fabric- and of course, it functions well on the battlefield too. She has suggested some changes, but she knows they won't really be seen through as your uniforms are approved by higher-ups after careful consideration.

There has only really been one time when you went to her in an abysmal state, your uniform ripped in various parts and bruises all over your body. It was so bad that your torso was almost completely visible as you desperately tried to keep it all together before reaching her. Her eyes couldn't help but wander to your abs but she composed herself and helped you first, getting you out of the uniform and applying medicine on your wounds.

When she had your uniform to herself, she examined it thoroughly and concluded it would be better to make a new one than fix this mess but you insisted her to make do with this. In the end, she did fix this one and it looked brand new but she also didn't back out from making a new set. She had you stand in her office to take your measurements, which you found odd since she could have used the old uniform, but who were you to deny this intimate moment with her?

"Stand still, would you? I'll be done quickly." Chiori ordered while holding the inch tape around her neck.

"Take as much time as you want, baby~" You teased, making her pout and let out a 'hmph' before she started working.

She said she'll be quick but here she was being distracted by your utterly attractive body. Seriously, what kind of training did the Fatui give to have a physique like yours? And you said, you are barely above average among all? Now she could understand why you people were so strong and feared, the other armies hardly held a candle in front of you. Still, she had to focus. She draped the tape over your chest, measuring the width when her fingers brushed your skin. She then kneeled to measure your waist and touched your abs, her fingers lingering longer as she felt them up.

You were aware of what she was thinking the whole time, and it was adorable to see her being so aroused but try to keep herself composed. She then moved behind you to measure your shoulders, and you could swear you felt how hard she was staring at your back. While measuring your arms, she subconsciously licked her lips seeing how muscular it was. And then your collar? Oh, it was delightful to have her lean on you and measure it.

"Hmm... A-Ahem, I'm done. I'll make 2 sets by the end of this month. Be sure not to destroy that one like before, the fabric won't hold up anymore."

Chiori cleared her throat and turned around to write down the measurements. You smirked then silently crept up to her and wrapped your arms around her waist, embracing her from behind.

"O-Oi, what are you doing?!"

"Hm? It's my turn to feel you up, isn't it? You had your fun just now~"

"Huh? What are you talking about?! Release me, I have work to do!"

"That's unfair...." you snuggled into her neck and kissed her skin, "I want to touch you too~"

Chiori pouted before letting out a sigh, "F-Fine, be quick then!"

Of course, you took your sweet time touching her all over. And you didn't stop just at touching, you soon found yourself kissing her passionately while she straddled your lap before laying her on the sofa. Her touch was engraved in your body now, courtesy of the bites on your neck and scratches on your back~

[izukusjuicythighs]

bkdk fics i read because was it ever casual

Horikoshi keeps feeding us bkdk crumbs like wtf??at this point they HAVE to be canon bkdk hospital kiss confirmed I was izukus freckle ALSO IM KINDA IN A BLOCK RN whenever I finish a fic my yappin brain always has something to say but rn its real quiet so uh🤡

left me no choice(but to stay here forever)

summary: Izuku learns early on in life that the people he loves will always leave him.

So when Kacchan asks him to be his boyfriend, Izuku kisses him and starts grieving for the inevitable.

words: 6,925

chapters: 3/4(updating)

notes: im quite aware that its a bitchy move to inflict pain on ppl but jm gonna do it anyways lol READ THIS AND WEEP I literally wanted to gorge my heart out and then slap all of my love into izuku idk it evokes complicated feelings??normally hate reading unfinished fics BUT THIS!!gave me a life changing experience within 7000words dammit

be my good luck charm

summary: See, the thing is, Midoriya Izuku had been born with a curse. It’s not a curse that’s particularly visible. He doesn’t have horns, or a tortured face, and it’s not the kind of silly curse like a friend of his had way down south in Diagnor, wherein the girl had been born without the ability to say the word duck. Midoriya Izuku is just extremely unlucky.

(Or the AU in which Izuku's the world's unluckiest traveling merchant, and Katsuki is someone who may be able to help him. For a price, that is.)

words: 6785

chapters: 1/1

notes: cute lil oneshot for yall cuz mha fans r in dire need of fluff rn yknow why🤭 how to date a hottie101 by bkg: set ur crush on fire to show ur undying love(WRITE IT DOWN WRITE IT DOWN)

Barberries and Variegated Knotweeds

summary: The Fight Another Day Agreement is a required legal document for all professional heroes. In the event of a life-threatening injury and the hero and their proxies are unable to respond on their behalf, medical professionals may do whatever it takes to keep the hero alive.

For Izuku, whatever it takes means removing flowers from his lungs, forcing him to forget about the love of his life. The aftermath leaves Izuku bewildered at the sight of a man with spiky blond hair and red eyes the color of Japanese barberries.

words: 19,286

chapters: 4/4

notes: YET ANOTHER HANAHAKI FIC WITH IZUKU WHUMP I just love seeing my favs go through it🤠I've read so many hanahaki fics ud think I'd be used to it but NOPE THIS SHIT HAD ME ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT was ready to downgrade 1 dimension to solve this shitstorm myself

If It's You

summary: “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Katsuki said. “You did not just ask me—me—to try and date your loser step-brother.”

He wasn’t even going to say Deku’s name out loud. Wasn’t giving him the time of day, even in a conversation about him. That weird awkward virgin was not worth his precious time, and certainly not what Kirishima was suggesting.

“But Bakugouuu,” Kirishima wailed, hanging off Katsuki’s arm with monster meathead jock strength. “My dad said I can’t date if Deku doesn’t date. Do you understand what that means?”

“Less chance of knocking someone up and creating more of you in the world?”

words: 16,863

chapters: 1/1

notes: 10 things I hate about you but make it bkdk I LOVE THIS SHIT angsty dramatic misunderstanding high school aus are my JAM also somewhat gives off from the sidelines vibes so if ur into that defo read

Down the Red Line

summary: His mom is the first person to know about it. She finds out when Izuku asks ( in a very cute three-year-old way) why can’t he see the red line that connected him to Kacchan in the last picture they've taken. The one where they were about to enter Kindergarten on their first day.

"Red line?"

"Yeah, Mamma. This," Little Izuku says, raising his pinky finger to show her the thing tied to it.

Izuku has been able to see the red strings of fate since birth. It's no surprise that his is connected to Katsuki.

words: 7,804

chapters: 1/1

notes: one of my absolute favs since 2021 MAKES ME SO FUKCIN MAD I have to put my phone down and contemplate life for a few mjns while reading it but it's so good??my red string is tied to thjs fic pls

[xximpressions]

The Duchess

Anthony Bridgerton x Duchess!reader

Summary: After coming into a title you did not expect, you try to navigate rejoining the society you once knew.

Word Count: 1,710

A/N: Had this idea after seeing Netflix's spinoff of Bridgerton and could not put it down!! Let me know what you think! If I hear from enough people, I'll turn this into a series :)

Bridgerton Masterlist

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Fighting the urge to let out a sigh full of boredom, you raised the glass of sparkling wine up to your lips.

While taking a delicate sip, your eyes roamed across the vast room once again. It seemed like they were in search of something, but you honestly could not say what. For what seemed like the hundredth time, your gaze was occupied by men who drank too much, women who thought too little, and musicians whose instruments were the slightest bit out of tune.

Taking in the sight as you stood by the table of refreshments, you were hit with the sudden realization that your eyes had been in search of the glamor a high society ball once offered you.

Before you were married, a party with such intricate dances and overhanging chandeliers would have certainly filled you with awe and amazement. But these days, you found that your feelings aired more on the side of weariness than wonderment.

You supposed that was to be expected given how unpredictably cruel you knew life to be.

Since your mother’s death following your birth, and your father’s death not soon after, you were raised by a frightful aunt who married you off to some lord not even a full month into your first season.

But as the fates would have it, your new husband ended up catching a fever during your honeymoon that quickly developed into something darker.

Having just enough time to get his affairs in order, the man you were sentenced to spend the rest of your life with, took his last breath only hours later.

This unforeseen turn meant you went from wife to widow within the span of a week.

Though you were not really acquainted with the one you called husband, the rules of society still demanded that you mourn him as if you were.

So after secluding yourself and donning black for the required year and a day, you looked forward to attending an event where you did not have to wear the subdued color. 

However, now that you were here, your mind incessantly wished that you were not.

Even prior to your marriage, a part of you always thought balls to be mundane affairs with only the prospect of finding a match to make it interesting. 

But now that you were aware of all the aspects that pertain to wedded life, you were not convinced you should seek it out again.

After all, you had already achieved what many young ladies set out for by using the marital institution to secure wealth and a respectable position in society.

With all that you could want in hand, you were starting to question what you were even doing at this magnificently dull soiree since parties such as these were for matchmaking and the marriage mart—neither of which held your interest as you were coming to learn.

Setting your drink down as you stifled another sigh, you turned and decided to start looking for some kind of exit.

Slowly making your way through the throng of elegantly dressed people, you first felt relief once you came across a set of double doors on a nearby wall.

Thinking them to be the doors you originally entered through, your next emotion was confusion when you saw an outdoor garden rather than an indoor hallway on the other side.

Realizing you had made a mistake, you were about to turn back in order to rejoin the party. But as the serenity of the quiet, night air enveloped your being, you found that your feet had slowly begun to make their way forward instead.

Hoping that a simple stroll through this season’s blooms and blossoms might put you in a more agreeable mood, you continued walking through the lavish landscape. 

You were not sure how long you spent wondering, but it could not have been more than a few minutes later before you eventually gave up.

Deciding it was best to just leave altogether, you started to make your way back to the party until a sudden grip on your upper arm prevented you from doing so.

In a flash, you spun around to face the one who had grabbed you and were both terrified and relieved to see it was a face you knew.

You had been introduced while you were on your honeymoon and your husband was on his deathbed.

When it became known that his health was failing, it was this man that showed up looking for an inheritance.

Being your husband’s younger brother, you could still remember how he heartlessly announced that he was present to ensure his place in the line of succession and nothing more.

So as your present fear turned into outright irritation, you let out an annoyed huff of your brother-in-law’s name while forcefully shrugging your arm from his hand and demanding to know,

“What are you doing here?”

When your pulling away caused him to stumble in place for a moment, your other senses immediately took note of the alcoholic stench permeating from his body and the slurred way he began to speak. 

“W-what am I doing here? What are you doing here??”

He jabbed an accusatory finger in your direction as he asked this question before he brokenly followed up with,

“If…if anyone should not be here, it is you and…and not I, you wicked harlot!”

You could not deny that your eyes had narrowed the slightest bit at this insult. So after straightening your back, you coldly responded to the drunken man in front of you.

“If you wish to address me, you will do so by calling me, ‘Your Grace’. If that is too much of a challenge for you to overcome, I suggest you do not address me at all.”

Done with the idea of being in his presence, you turned to make your way back inside only to be grabbed again not even a foot away.

Quickly putting your hands up to shove as hard as you could, you pushed your late husband’s brother back as you determinedly yelled out, 

“Unhand me!”

He only stumbled back a little before regaining his barings and making a second attempt to rush you.

Only this time, he was intercepted by another man.

Letting out a gasp as your brother-in-law was suddenly thrown to the ground, you could only watch as the person still standing threateningly said,

“I believe I heard the Lady say to unhand her. I would advise leaving now before I feel the need to intervene any further.”

He kept himself in-between you and the drunk on the floor as he spoke which meant you could not see who your rescuer was. But whomever they might be, it was obvious that their tone left no room for negotiation.

Watching over the shoulder of the stranger as your husband’s brother staggered to his feet, you kept your face blank as he threw one last glare in your direction and walked away on unsteady legs until he was out of sight.

Once you could no longer see him, you let out a sigh you did not realize you were holding and raised a soothing hand to your temple as you closed your eyes.

When you opened them again, you unexpectedly found yourself staring into someone else’s gaze.

You and the handsome stranger continued to stare at one another until you remembered yourself moments later.

Clearing your throat and taking a step back, you opened your mouth and cordially said,

“Good sir, while I appreciate your stepping in, I can assure you that I had the situation well under control.”

Raising a surprised brow, the man in front of you proceeded to cross his arms over his chest as he replied.

“Oh? You looked like you were in need of rescuing from where I was standing.”

“A matter of perspective then.”

Though you allowed the flippant response, it was your rescuer who allowed an amused smirk to grow on his face after the fact. Briefly looking you up and down, his tone was confident as he quietly repeated back to you in the quiet, night air,

“A matter of perspective, indeed.”

You felt an unexplainable flutter when he said this and his eyes locked onto yours. But before you had the chance to get drawn in another time, you decided to give a prompt nod of gratitude and goodbye and returned to the party at last.

Once inside, you looked back to take in the sight of the ball as you finally neared the correct exit.

In search of something again, your eyes continued roving over the crowd until they landed on someone already looking in your direction.

Catching the gaze of your handsome rescuer from across the room, you were pleasantly surprised to have a playful smile thrown your way after a respectful bow of his head. Unable to prevent your expression from mimicking his, you tried to keep your smile to yourself as you finally turned to leave the party.

On the other side of the soiree, Anthony Bridgerton was being brought back to reality as his eldest sibling clasped a hand onto the Viscount’s shoulder.

“Brother, what are you looking at with such intensity?”

But as the second oldest Bridgerton only had to follow his brother’s eyes to see what had captured his attention, he was no longer confused when they landed on your retreating figure.

Amused, the artist turned back to the Viscount when he dazedly asked,

“Tell me Benedict, who is that?”

“I do not know. I have only seen her a few times.”

As they both watched you leave, Anthony decided that this was not enough information.

“Come now, you must know more than that.”

Smiling at his brother’s impatience, Benedict calmly replied,

“All I know is that she is widowed and has just come out of her mourning period.”

And with what he had heard at his gentlemen’s club, and all that he had read from Lady Whistedown’s column, Anthony finished putting two and two together and was suddenly hit with the fact that he knew who you were.

“That is not some widow, Brother.”

Catching the last glimpse of you, the Viscount astonishingly breathed out,

“That is the Duchess.”

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