#But the work truly never stops; the blessing of creating is making stuff and the curse is also making stuff

[tswwwit]

Widower part One is over here.

And the second part is here!

Bill pulls him out of the party early, which might be the only cool thing he’s ever done.

The rest of the demons busy themselves drinking, dancing, and getting into fights. Dipper hears the cacophony fade as he’s dragged out of the reception hall and through a door that seals itself behind them. Once shut, the noise drops from a din to distant rumble and the thudding of bass.

Good riddance. The last hour was loud and chaotic and bright, with enough alcohol in the air to make him feel tipsy just by breathing. Getting the hell out of there is so great he barely minds who’s guiding him out.

Besides. He doesn’t have much of a choice.

With his hand held tight in Bill’s own, there’s no way out. Trying to pull it away or shake it off is futile; the demon only tightens his grip until his knuckles ache. 

Dipper keeps his eyes on this monster’s golden surface. Any sudden movement. Any twitch, and next thing he knows he’ll be a burst of molecules, or frozen in stone - or something else entirely. 

Whatever evil plot is going on here, it’s so secret Dipper’s never heard a hint of it. Not in all the rumors, not in all his research. No demons have mentioned it in interrogations; thought to be fair the questions were likely the wrong ones. No scouts have ever delved into the Fearamid. Nobody else has seen what he’s seen.

Those pictures. 

If Dipper hadn’t stared at the damn things himself, he would have thought it was crazy. But those paintings were made with skill and careful brushstrokes, held in solid paint and canvas, too real to be anything else, and wearing his face. It’s…

An illusion, maybe? Dipper has that talent, he’s hard to fool. But it could be crafted so well it even messed with him. Or maybe mental magic, instead? A creation that left a blank space his brain filled in with whatever Bill wanted. 

Something’s up, anyway. A trick. A ploy. What Bill did back there with the eye-mouth… thing, is a distraction from what’s really happening. 

Dipper shuts his eyes against the memory, but he can’t seem to push it out of his head. Metal lips on your entire face will do that. 

“Alright, that’s far enough.” Bill says, stopping so abruptly that Dipper nearly walks into him. He whips around with a dangerous gleam in his eye. “Here we have a little privacy.”

Dipper says nothing. He glares with all the fury he can muster, though he’s pretty sure bewilderment leaks out around the edges.

Time to learn Bill Cipher what really has in store for him. He steels his shoulders, preparing himself-

And metal slams against his chest, forcing the air out of his lungs with a ‘thump’.

Dipper wheezes, clutching at his chest. Then pats it. Solid gold pushes into him, warm to the touch. A tightness around his waist. This is - 

He stares down at the golden point of a demonic triangle. Bill’s got a hold of him again, gripping the back of his shirt instead of looping arms around him like ropes. The top hat floats just by his face, tilting when he bumps his cheek against it.

For a moment he thought - but no. Nobody else is in the hallway. The party rages onward in the distance. The low buzz of the crowd hums through the Fearamid like the sound of appliances, and no horrible new monster turns the corner to devour him.  

Then this isn’t a distraction for another demon. And whatever Bill’s doing doesn’t hurt. Dipper isn’t clipped in half at the waist, even though the arms are uncomfortably tight. Bill’s warm too, but water-bottle temperature instead of boiling oil. 

Bill’s just stuck to him like the biggest, most godawful sticker. His grip adjusted a few times, there’s an intermittent squeeze - but it’s not harmful.

Dipper waits for a short, heart-pounding half-minute, and still nothing happens. Slowly, tension seeps out of him as it continues being… not bad. 

…Okay, even for a demon this is weird. Something’s up.

“Hello?” Dipper asks. He taps Bill’s metal surface with two sharp raps. 

“Mhgh,” comes the response. One of those strange small hands tightens on his back, balling up the fabric of his shirt. 

Dipper feels his mouth thin into a line. Partly from irritation at this demon, and, okay. A little at himself.

Man, he really needs to work on this. Even now, when all rational thought says he should be terrified, that there’s a malevolent force close enough to obliterate him - all he feels is annoyed. And not even as much as he should be. 

“What the hell, Bill?” It’s pretty much the only thing Dipper can say. It’s not like he’ll just figure out the answer when he’s dealing with the weirdest guy in the world. “What’s going on?”

Bill speaks again, but it’s muffled in shirt fabric. His arms tighten; vibrations rumble through Dipper’s chest and into his skin. And how the hell does that work, when he doesn’t even have a mouth.

Great. So helpful. Dipper’s not trapped in place, thankfully. He can turn around and even walk a few steps unimpeded, with Bill floating along. Retreating doesn’t gain him any space, though; his back merely hits the wall with his involuntary armor plating still stuck to him like glue.

Not dangerous, then. Just awkward. It’s almost a running theme with this creature. 

The attachment has already gone on for several minutes without stopping - but not painful doesn’t mean not uncomfortable. Between unnatural body warmth and the flannel shirt that he’s wearing, Dipper’s sweating from heat, not fear. 

And Bill’s still talking, in an overly-long ramble. One Dipper can both hear and feel, with that odd vibration of his not-mouth. Fingers twitch against his back, and - oh god, is Bill drooling? That horrible multipurpose eye could ooze any kind of fluid.

Cursing under his breath, Dipper gets a hold of the top point, pushing it away even though the corners dig into his fingers. Getting a grip on smooth, angled metal is hard, especially when it’s fighting against him.

When finally he peels Bill off by an inch, the demon’s single eye is slightly bloodshot and staring fully forward at his torso. “-burrow into your chest and live where your lungs used to be, right next to your-”

Dipper lets go, and Bill snaps back into place like a rubber band. Okay. Really didn’t need to hear that. Thankfully it was just a metaphor; he would have felt it if Bill was trying to core him like an apple.

…Though Bill is pressing pretty hard. Between that and his weird magic, who knows? Maybe he could lodge himself into Dipper’s organs without him noticing. That’s definitely not alarming or horrifying or - god, he needs to get out of here. 

Dipper shoves at this asshole, cursing under his breath. Goddamn it, he should know better than this. The stupid party threw him off, along with his own shock. He almost forgot where he was, and what danger he’s facing. Who, exactly, he’s dealing with. 

Grimacing with effort, Dipper digs his fingers underneath the metal plate on his chest and pushes. He avoids touching the hat. He has a gut feeling that would be a huge mistake.

“Mgh!” Bill complains, still muffled by the shirt - but his resistance wanes with the unrelenting pressure. Eventually he pops off like a disconnected suction cup, floating a few feet away.

Dipper backpedals, hitting the wall again and bracing his palms against it. His chest is fully intact, other than being slightly damp from unnamable fluids. His legs still work. If he needs to take off running, he… likely won’t get far, but he could be annoying to catch. 

Bill blinks a few times. Then his lower eyelid curves up again. The bloody intent from earlier in his sclera has vanished, leaving only mild amusement. 

“Looks like you’re in tip-top shape! For a human that is. All the bits in order!” Lower eyelid rising, he pats Dipper’s chest. “Lungs heaving, blood pumping. All anxious and tense. The whole shebang!”

Yeah, he would like that. Torment. Terror. Bill thrives off every drop of the stuff. 

Dipper says nothing. His nails dig into his palms. 

 “What’s the matter, sapling?” Bill tilts to one side, looking oddly… confused. “How ‘bout a smile? A hug? A long, tortured speech about how much you missed me?”

“I’m not giving you anything.” Dipper grits out between clenched teeth. “You’re an asshole.”

Bill rolls his eye, a long dramatic motion. As if Dipper’s protest is less a roadblock than a speedbump. “Yeah, yeah, I know I am. Now how ‘bout that hug?” He spreads his arms wide, wiggling his fingers in a come-hither gesture. “Double points for a smooch, but I’m not particular!”

The face Dipper makes must speak clearly enough, because for the first time in a while, Bill’s eye stops smiling. His arms drop to dangle along his bottom edge.

“Hold up.” Eye narrowing, Bill examines his captive with considered slowness. His gaze focuses on Dipper’s face, like he’s trying to burrow into his brain instead of his chest. “How much do you remember?”

“What’s there to remember?” Dipper asks. Why does everything this monster does have to be weird? ”What the hell is going on?” 

His words come out tinged with hysteria, which is… not the look he’d daydreamed about. If he ever met this creature in the flesh, he wanted to be cooler than this, damn it. He just didn’t account for how fucked up it’d be. 

“Ah. Right.” Bill says, enthusiasm dimming along with his surface. He’s almost plain gold now, with only a hint of light. For a beat he simply floats there, eye focused on something distant. “There’s always a catch, huh?” 

One black hand reaches up as if to touch Dipper’s face. Smacking it away, Dipper scoots sideways, keeping his back to the wall. Then moves little further when Bill follows, arms tucked behind his back and eye-smiling again.

“So! Look at you! A fresh young mortal delivered right to my door, and a feisty one at that!” His upper eyelid wiggles in irritating amusement. “You worried what I’m gonna do to ya?”

Dipper stands stiff, arms at his sides. “Not even a little.”

Hearing Bill laugh again is annoying, but - okay, Dipper can see where it’s coming from this time. Pulling the defiance card in the presence of Bill Cipher is possibly the stupidest move ever. Second only to doing it in front of a crowd. Or maybe cursing him out in the same venue. So overall, it’s only third place stupid in a slowly growing list. 

Still, Dipper won’t budge. He’ll never cower. It’s simply not in his nature.

While demons bother other people on sight, Dipper’s… never really gotten the big deal. Sure, they’re dangerous. But a lot of things are dangerous, like lions or spiders or snakes. The safest way to handle those creatures is to learn their behaviors. And while demons are strange, upsetting, and much more difficult to handle on average - there’s still an internal logic behind their actions, if you can figure it out. 

Dipper’s always had a knack for that nonsensical brand of sense. A useful instinct, one that’s come in handy dozens of times, and helped him take risks others wouldn’t. It’s hard to fear what you understand.

Hell, he should be terrified of Bill Cipher. Everyone else is, for extremely good reasons. Rational, intelligent ones. And Dipper is afraid, in a rational, intelligent way, with the urge to run or fight or freeze tugging at his thoughts, and a tight, bright energy in his chest. 

But he’s not going to panic like your average guy. That’s just dumb. 

The Lord of Nightmares, Bill Cipher, is powerful  - but he’s still a demon. Still just a guy, of sorts. A really insane, sociopathic guy from a totally different realm of existence, who could turn Dipper into fleshy salsa in a snap. 

A fine sweat is building on his neck and running down his back. Dipper isn’t sure if it’s nerves, or residual heat from the too-long grasp. 

Right now, his instincts say Bill isn’t pissed off. That he’s safe-ish, possibly because he’s more amusing than annoying. 

But they also say: Tread carefully. 

“Everything else seems in order. Tip-top shape, like I said!” Bill floats back and forth, examining Dipper with a critical eye. Then the top lid lowers as he starts to frown. “But the memory situation? Ugh. You shoulda demanded an exception to the rules, kid. It’s not like you didn’t have leverage.”

“I don’t - what the fuck are you-” Dipper cuts himself off before he starts shouting. He takes a deep breath, and holds it for three seconds before letting it out. 

Anger has a place, but this isn’t it. Right now he needs answers. 

“Tell me what’s happening.” He says, finally. “Please.”

It comes out weaker than he’d like. He sounds deflated, or maybe just tired. Hell, he feels pretty tired, come to think of it. The trip to the Fearamid was short on comfy places to sleep. 

“Oh, that’s simple.” Bill beams, glowing brighter as he throws his arms out in celebration. “You’re back from the dead, kid!” 

Dipper stares for a long, long second. Then he shuts his eyes, rubbing at them briefly. Bill tries to pat his arm, but he jerks it away.

He can’t have just fallen asleep on his feet. He’s not that tired. So unless being dragged to Bill’s throne room incurred an invisible, painless, and extremely severe head injury - he must have heard that right. 

“I’ve… never died though?” He turns it into a question at the end. 

Maybe he did hit his head on something. Maybe he’s dead already, and this is a strange new form of afterlife torture. Not pain and suffering, just sheer confusion. 

“No, you definitely did. It was real mortal of you. And really rude.”  Bill glares. Truly glares, a look that has Dipper leaning back from the banked anger behind it - then he shrugs, dismissing the whole thing with his strange smile. “But since you decided to show back up, I’ll let it slide. Water under the bridge.”

Such a quick dismissal, for such a… tense topic. Dipper fidgets, not sure how to respond. 

It’s one thing to know that Bill Cipher’s a madman, and another to see him flicker through moods like a flipbook, with no rhyme or reason to it.

“You know that’s insane, right?” He asks. Then grimaces.

Okay, probably a bad choice to mention it - but he has to bring it up. Bill Cipher might be self-aware enough to know he’s crazy. 

”Man, the rules you must have broken to get out of the afterlife - whoo! Tell me all about it when your brain catches up to your spirit.” Bill says. His gaze is focused over Dipper’s left shoulder with his pupil dilated, looking out into some ancient memory. “It’s the second coolest thing you’ve ever done.”

…Or maybe he’s not. 

Either way, he’s ignoring the comment. Or hell, maybe he literally didn’t hear it, lost in his own insane thoughts. Dipper’s known this guy for less than an hour, and he’s pretty sure it could go any which way.

“But man, oh man, we have got a lot to go over once you’re back in the memory business.” Bill taps a foot in the air, looking impatient. “See, I have-”

“No. Back up.” Dipper interrupts, adding another entry to his ‘stupid move’ list. He waves rapidly before Bill can start rambling again. “Start from the beginning.”

Thankfully, he isn’t blasted into particles. His flesh stays meat and blood instead of granite. Bill even adds another check on the ‘insane’ list by looking amused. 

Dipper guesses his instincts are still working correctly; one relief in a day full of weirdness. Hell, of the many demons he’s encountered, Bill’s astonishingly easy to read. 

“Sure thing! There was a summoning, a curse, buncha near-death experiences, yadda yadda yadda -” As he lists them off, Bill rolls his wrist around in a ‘and then y’know’ gesture - “So to make a long story short, you’re my husband!” 

Having said that, he sets fists on his angles. His glow brightens as he quite literally beams with pride.

Dipper opens his mouth. Then shuts it. 

Head injury is looking more and more appealing. He pats the back and sides of his head, but it just messes up his hair. When he checks his hands for blood, Bill laughs at him. Thus making things infinitely worse.

Oh no. He was so, so hoping he misheard that, too. Bill Cipher’s weird enough, it could have been ‘harm plan’ or ‘harp fan’ or ‘horse band’, but it’s not any of those. Just the common, context-proper word of -

But that means Bill Cipher was married at some point, to a human apparently, and - Demons do that? Is that actually a thing? Why would - how would - and Bill’s a shape, for fuck’s sake, shouldn’t he be after something more… angular? A human wouldn’t-

Again Dipper opens his mouth, searching for a response. He looks Bill right in his gleaming, pleased, eerily huge eyeball, and fails to come up with anything. 

This - that can’t be right. It’s too weird.

When Dipper finally manages to speak, what emerges is, “Nuh-uh.”

“Yuh huh.” Bill retorts. He sets fists on his sides, eye shutting. “I can prove it, too. You-”

“No, you can’t.” Dipper snaps before Bill can start yammering again, like the jerk he is. “Because that’s insane. Anyone who would marry something like you would be-”

“Completely mad! Totally off his rocker! And you’re right!” Bill interrupts in turn, glowing bright. A wallet appears in one hand, and he flips it open to reveal a long, long scroll of photos. “I mean, just look at this nerd! Does that seem sane to you?”

“What-” Completing the question is out of the question; Dipper has to back up as pictures keep tumbling down in a connected line. They pile in front of him in violation of every rule of physics. 

In the first of the reel, a man flips off the camera, glaring at the taker. In another he’s asleep, hair tousled and resting on a yellow pillow, in the next he’s fleeing from something with a terrified look on his face. Dozens upon dozens, a never-ending flood.

And in all of them, each and every one. Printed on glossy paper and carefully kept -

A doppelganger smiles back at Dipper, wearing his face.

He stares with growing anxiety, along with an odd twinge of embarrassment. Having so many pictures of anyone would be weird, but it’s twice as bad when it seems like him.

Near the bottom of the pile, Bill himself makes an unusual appearance. The photo taken at arm’s length, camera held out for a selfie that captures the grin of his eye and the specks of blood on his surface. A gold chain trails down from one of his corners, an oddity that Dipper nearly misses - 

Because next to him, that same man is pressing lips on Bill’s side, with his palm resting just under the tie. Some of the blood on Bill’s surface is smudged by his fingers.

Smooches, Bill said. The word didn’t seem real until he witnessed it. Even now it doesn’t quite compute. 

Why Bill would want that is beyond Dipper’s comprehension. Metal can’t feel anything, right? And Bill himself feels nothing in his cold metal heart except amusement, boredom, or anger.  It’s probably the attention he craves, and - who the hell would ever give him a peck on the angles? Especially when he’s speckled red with -

Dipper’s stomach churns, imagining the scene just out of frame. The body that must be lying below, and the twisted shape of it.

“See? One mortal, totally mad for me. Proof.” Bill says with triumph. The photos fold back up into his wallet and get tucked away into the same abstract space. “And I got even more where that came from.”

More than this? Is there more gore, too? Things Bill hasn’t shown off yet? More smug satisfaction in his eye, and more of of Dipper’s face worn by a stranger, doing the unthinkable?

“I- no. Look, I’ve never met you before.” Dipper finds his voice, though it’s thin and reedy. Folding his arms over himself, he rubs at them. Feeling cold and warm, in odd flashes, like his body can’t decide how to react. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“In this life.” Bill wags a finger, as if chiding him for forgetting. “But that’ll change! See, you and I are thick as thieves. Married as hell! The most intertwined interspecies couple this segment of the multiverse!”

Despite himself, Dipper glances down again. The photos are gone, but the memory remains. 

Bill, and blood. Those two are constant companions. He kind of expected those, and thought he’d see more than his fill of the latter.

The unexpected addition to the horrors is printed on photo paper, and painted on canvas. A monster who would touch Bill after someone clearly died right there. There’s zero context that makes standing near a corpse romantic.

“Shocked by your luck, huh? And you should be with a spouse like yours truly!” Bill drifts closer, hands clasped together. He tilts towards Dipper with what might be nuzzling intent. “You won the jackpot, kid.”

“Fuck off,” Dipper says, flat. Then, as Bill doesn’t take the obvious - shoves the bastard, sending him drifting through the air. “I said, fuck off.”

“Aw, calm down, sapling! I’ll even get you a ring this time!” Bill dismisses his protest and floats right back into his personal space. “We can do all the human ceremonies and costumes, have a party - then really get down to business.”

Whatever ‘business’ is, Dipper doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want to be here. He was kidnapped, he didn’t have a choice. Then Bill Cipher took him as tribute - the asshole - hoping he was the kind of person who would - 

“Now,” Bill says, floating dangerously close. His arms spread as if to capture him again, eye wide and pupil blown out. “How ‘bout that kiss?”

Oh. Dipper is not doing that.

Knuckles to eyeball is a squishy sensation. Like punching a huge goddamn stress ball, only one that’s warm and wet and distinctly alive. Surprisingly gross too; Dipper wants to wash his hand immediately. 

But the triumph of watching Bill Cipher recoil, swearing and clutching at his closed eye, is a dream come true. 

“OW- you- Ugh, right in the cornea.” Bill says, with feeling. Dipper’s next punch lands in his palm, and the hand grows as it closes it around his fist. “Hey hey, you only get one of those for free. Next one’ll cost ya.”

“Fuck you.” Dipper tries to retrieve his fist to no avail. Damn it. A second punch was a bad idea; he’s given Bill another hold on him.

Using his other arm turns out just as useless - and more alarming. Bill merely sighs, sounding tired, just before grabbing him around the torso with one comically huge hand and shoving him back a step.

“Yeesh. Okay, okay, you’re mad. Great.” Bill says, more seriously. He floats up without releasing his hold, looking Dipper over. “And actually mad at that. What gives?”

The sheer audacity has Dipper spluttering. How could - Bill should know why nobody in their right or their wrong mind would ever. That.

“What are-” He starts, trying not to grit his teeth too hard. It’d make yelling at Bill more difficult. “Okay, I could go over a whole list of horrible, fucked-up things you’ve done in the last two decades.” 

“Yeah, yeah, forget those! I’m not talking abstract moral arguments,” Bill says, setting his other fist on his angle. “This grudge seems personal. What put your boxers in a twist?”

Right. Dipper was distracted earlier. Under the barrage of total insanity, he almost forgot what really mattered. 

He pushes against the constraining hold, sneakers squeaking on stone. If only he could get a little closer, that eyeball would be in punching range again. This bastard should know his crimes. Why Dipper will never do anything. 

“You turned my sister into a statue.” 

“Oof.” Bill dims, eyelid lowering in a frown. He almost looks chagrined. “Yep, that’d do it.” 

Dipper lets him know exactly what he’s like, with several choice curses. A quick kick using Bill’s grip as a backboard doesn’t land. Damn this bastard for dodging. 

Bill ignores his struggles. One massive thumb pats Dipper’s side as he thinks, rubbing under his eye. 

“Say, I think I know the gal you’re talking about! Got caught in that errand I ran a year back. Long hair, right?” He waves over his point and under his hat. “And a big sweater! Looks like she got her braces off recently and forgets to use her retainer! I wondered if something was up with that one. Seemed real familiar.”

“Great. You remember.” Dipper grits out. So Bill noticed his sister. Out of thousands of anonymous statuary, she stood out. He isn’t sure whether that makes it better or worse. “All the more reason to kick your ass.”

This awful, evil, bastard laughs at his threat. Like it’s nothing. Dipper sucks in a breath through his teeth, muscles tensing as the boiling anger in his chest sings a song of ‘punch this asshole right in the eye again’.

“Oh, you,” Bill watches him struggle with that same awful amusement. Almost fond. “Whatd’ya know, it’s my lucky day! Once I get this sorted, we’ll be back to married bliss inside a month. No harm, no foul.”

“I’ll show you harm.” Lurching forward, Dipper strains against this preternaturally powerful asshole to no effect. Goddamn demonic powers. Stupid shapeshifting. He hates it.

“Eh, you’ll be less worked up in a bit.” Bill rolls his eye. Another arm pops out and he claps hands together, rubbing them with glee. “And then we can get to wedding planning! It’ll be the biggest bash of the century!”

Dipper groans, a mix of anger and frustration. Bill’s deluded. Insane. Totally distracted. Isn’t Bill Cipher supposed to be smart? 

The distraction, though, gives him just enough leeway to worm an arm out of Bill’s grasp. Fist thumping on the thumb, he hisses out the obvious. “I’m not marrying the guy who killed my sister.”

“Good thing I didn’t kill her then, huh?”

Dipper’s jaw shuts with a click. His fist stills in midair - probably for the best, it was waving around uselessly - and lowers a careful inch. “What?”

“Nobody in the garden’s dead, kid. They’re just trapped in an eternal dreamless sleep!” Bill glows brighter, waving down the hallway towards another corridor. “One five-minute walk, a little magic, and bam! You get your sister back.”

Dipper mouths the air, but comes up with nothing. Bill’s words bounced into the gears of his mind like an expertly thrown wrench, grinding them to a halt.

Get her back. Then. It’s - wait, but everyone says that’s not - how would it even work.

“Ha! Didn’t expect that, didja? That’s adorable!” The giant fist releases Dipper, disappearing into nowhere. Bill claps lightly as if watching a delightful little show. “So, you interested? It’s no big deal for me to refleshify her, but if you prefer a more rocky relationship-”

“No!” Dipper blurts. “No, I do want her back. But…” He gives Bill the dirty look he deserves. As scathing as he can manage. “I think you’re lying.”

“Fair, it’s kinda my thing. But this offer’s legit, kid! Pinky swear.” Bill sticks out his little finger, waggling it in Dipper’s direction. “One intact, healthy, perfectly alive sister, for one hand in marriage. Whatdya say?”

Dipper says nothing, turning slightly away. Ignoring the insanity of that offer, along with the little finger slowly encroaching on his personal space. 

There’s more info to slot into the many mental files he has on Bill Cipher, the liar, monster, and so-called snappy dresser. He’s truly after something, if he’s offering deals to a human. Usually that’s a lesser demon thing. 

Kind of a shame, in informational terms. If Bill did offer deals to people, maybe they’d know more about him. As it stands, nobody knows how Bill does… most of the magic he does. Animating objects, summoning creatures, manipulating the world around him. Impressive by any metric, but too weird to get a grip on. 

The most study has gone into his human statuary habit. Preventing more victims from being zapped away has had tons of money and time thrown in its path, to no effect. It’s incredibly hard to transmute living substances into anything else. The power it’d take to reverse the process - changing from one solid material back to the complexity of life - that’d be insane.

The thought makes Dipper hesitate. Insanity is Bill’s thing. 

And his magic is weird, too. It doesn’t work like most magic should, just as bizarre and nonsensical as its master. It defies definition almost by definition; Dipper knows at least five scientists who have torn hair out trying to make it math properly. 

So it’s possible, maybe. That when Bill turns someone into a statue, he could change them back. 

Dipper glares at Bill’s offered hand. Taps his foot on the floor, looking around, then lifts his chin in defiance. “Prove it, first.”

“Yeah, you would want proof. Skeptic,” Bill says, in that same irritatingly fond tone. “Out to the rock garden then! I think I remember where she’s stashed.”

This time when Bill seizes his arm, Dipper pulls it back slowly instead of jerking it away. It gets a huge eyeroll, but Bill floats forward and beckons him along. 

Dipper watches him drift down the hallway for a bit. A few meters on, Bill turns back and waves him on again, looking annoyed - and Dipper sighs. He stuffs his hands in his pockets, and follows. Not like he has a choice.

The corridors of the Fearamid are just as convoluted as he’d imagined. They twist and branch and shift in noneuclidean directions, and odd angles. Dipper could swear they’re upside down at one point as Bill leads him on a merry trail to an outer edge.

One thing has been clarified, at least. Why he’s here. 

Bill Cipher, at some point, married a human. Some jackass who bargained with this jackass, probably for power. Who knows what schemes and scams they got up to. What torments and terrors they caused, what the fuck made a person smile at a triangle like that for crying out loud - Anyway. Bad things happened.

But that, as all things, came to an end. Bill’s partner in atrocities and nightmares did the mortal thing, and got away from his insidious grasp. He must have forgotten that mortal beings have an expiration date. Super disappointing for the demon. Annoying, even. Bill said as much himself, it was really rude to leave like that -

But it’s all better now. Isn’t it. 

He’s found a replacement.

If anyone needed further proof that Cipher was completely off his rocker, that would be the final fucking straw. 

Dipper grimaces at the thought, and ignores Bill’s curious look. They can’t be far from the statue garden now, and he’s not taking any of this demon’s obvious conversation bait. Tuning out the questions and commentary and keeping his trap shut, even when it’s really tempting to argue with some stupid, arrogant statement. 

That’s demons for you. They never leave well enough alone. Always causing trouble, getting into what you least want them to get into. Bothering decent people for kicks. 

So as fucked up as this… reincarnated dead husband thing is, it’s very demonic. The backwards, flipped-around logic they use fits it to a tee.

Like, yeah, okay. Dipper can admit the pictures are damning. No wonder Bill was thrilled to see him, it was like finding an exact copy of a favorite mug that got broken. A resemblance that’s downright eerie, almost enough to make him wonder - 

Except the guy in question was simping over a triangle. 

Absolutely not. Never in his life, or any life, ever. Bill’s dead husband and him are nothing like each other, not where it matters. 

Plus, there’s the obvious.

Reincarnation isn’t a thing. 

For as long as magic has been studied, scholars have tried to get at the nature of the soul. Kings and emperors have sought the secrets of immortality - which has never panned out. Prophets and madmen have claimed to be so-and-so reborn, only to be disproven. 

Souls are unique. The personal fingerprint of the individual, written in energy and riddled with life. Even now it’s hard to pin down exactly what it is, other than there’s something.

And as far as anyone can tell - after thousands of years of research tackling the facts, over and over - once a soul’s gone? It’s just gone. Out into the ether or afterlife or whatever. Maybe just vanished entirely. Leaving the mortal plane and coming back is unheard of. 

Bill comes from another dimension, though. Maybe he doesn’t know it works?

Dipper glances at Bill’s back, glowing bright again. He’s humming a tune to himself, breaking out in patches into quiet, joyful song. “...don’t know where, don’t know when!” Before trailing off again. 

…He definitely, absolutely doesn’t know how it works. 

Dipper’s the captive of a bizarre, bored madman, looking for any puzzle piece to shove into the annoying gap in his picture-perfect life.

This delusion isn’t going to be easy to dispel. Considering Bill’s excitement, he won’t want to drop the idea, he certainly gives no fucks about human opinions, and the eerily similar features are a huge sticking point. Not to mention he wasn’t exactly sane to begin with. 

So Dipper holds his tongue, and clamps his lips together tight for good measure, even though the questions burn in the back of his throat. The ‘why’ and the ‘how’ and the ‘what the fuck’ will have to wait for later, once he extracts himself from this bullshit. 

He’ll hold off on correcting Bill, just for a bit. Right now, a white lie and a lack of denial are on track to get him what he wants.

Shutting up for ten minutes is more than a fair price for his sister’s life.

The sunlight appears well before they arrive outside. There’s no door at the exit, just an open gap at the bottom edge of the pyramid, leading out into a wide expanse of neatly trimmed grass.

Dipper pauses at the threshold. Staring out at a sea of grey shapes against green, extending in a curve along the corner of the Fearmid. It’s bigger than in the aerial photos made it seem. It looks like it goes on for a mile. A yawning expanse of human life trapped in granite, as far as his eye can see.

Which Bill drifts through without blinking, humming his stupid tune. After a moment, he beckons Dipper to follow again, rolling his eye.

“C’mon, your sister’s not far, kid.” He says, drifting towards Dipper with a tilt to the side, like he’s confused. “What’s the holdup?”

Dipper hesitates a moment longer, then ducks in between two frozen shapes. One cowering in a tiny ball, one with his arm flung up in a shout of rage. The weather’s warm, but he still shivers.

“It’s nothing,” He says finally, before Bill can grab his hand again. He brushes his shirt off, and strides forward. “Lead the way.”

Bill leads him through the horrors with total nonchalance. He zigzags among frozen humans like he’s stepping around a messy bedroom floor. His erratic course heads towards a hill in the garden, the only rising point in an otherwise flat landscape, surrounded by tall conifer trees. 

The slope to the top is steep, and there isn’t a path or stairs. For convenience’s sake, Dipper snags one of Bill’s arms - ignoring the cackle - to use his unstoppable floating like a ski lift, letting it pull him upwards. 

“Here we are!” Bill exclaims, slowing to a stop in the middle of a wide swath of grass. “Right where I stashed her.”

Dipper glances around. Tall pines surround the clearing, shading it from the sun with their wide branches. Behind him would be a great view of the statue-spotted field, if he was into that kind of thing. The middle of the clearing has a massive golden statue, ornate and gaudy like all Bill’s dumb bullshit - 

But his eyes skim right over the features, landing on a small stone figure beside it.

“Mabel!” Dipper bursts out of Bill’s hold, crossing the clearing in seconds. The turf kicks up under his shoes as he skids to a stop in front of his sister. 

The stone face of his sister looks back at him in perfect stillness. She looks over her shoulder as if having caught sight of something, and she’s not sure what it is yet. The confused expression is trapped eternally in smooth grey rock.

He almost can’t believe what he’s seeing. Part of him believed he’d never see her again. Written her off like she was a missing person. At best he’d be able to look at the latest distant photos, and wonder which speck she was in the crowd. But she’s here, and intact. Albeit a little stiff.

Dipper reaches out, then thinks better of it and lets his arms drop. Not daring to touch, not wanting to just stand there. It’s so clear there's nothing he can do - but there should be. This sucks.

“As you can see, your twin’s totally intact.” Bill brushes past him, giving him a wry look. “No cracks, no breaks, not a speck of damage on her!” He adjusts his tie, eye shut with apparent pride. “None of my lawn ornaments get messed with, even when-”

“She’s not my twin,” Dipper says, irritably. Both to shut Bill up, and to correct his weird statement. “She’s two years younger than me.”

“Huh,” Bill rubs under his eye, looking thoughtful. “Yeah, she would be, wouldn’t she? Oh well!” He glows brighter, circling Mabel’s statue before retreating a few yards away. “Take a step back and watch the show!”

Since there’s still nothing Dipper can do about this, he reluctantly backs up. But not too far. He has to let Bill do his magic, but who knows what he’ll get up to after? Best to be nearby, just in case.

Clearing his invisible throat, Bill adjusts his tie. He clicks his fingers together twice, then points forward. Light zaps from his finger, engulfing Mabel’s form, too bright to stare at directly. The magic bursts in Dipper’s senses like a furnace flame, like a bomb going off - he tenses, sucking in a breath. 

And when the light vanishes, Mabel whips around in a whirl of pink sweater, completing the motion she was trapped in. The movement also screws up her balance; she flails her arms, squawking as she falls backwards.

Dipper’s glad he stuck close. Before she hits the ground he catches her under the arms, hauling her upright. He gets bonked on the nose by her skull, and curses. He nearly drops her because the overly-large, soft sweater that only his stupid sister would wear is too damn loose. 

His sister. Holy shit. 

Dipper stands frozen, stiffly holding her upright until she rocks back up on her heels. Mabel shakes her head, making a ‘blugh’ sound and sticking her tongue out in annoyance.

She’s actually - Holy shit. 

“Whoa, wait.” Mabel turns towards him, surprise painting her very alive features. She brushes her bangs back, squinting in confusion. “Dipper? Where’d you come from?”

Dipper merely shakes his head. His arms tremble until he steadies them, shoving them down by his sides.

She’s back. She’s actually, truly back, because whatever Bill did worked, and. Wait - how did it…? 

Mabel glances up - makes a face at the bright afternoon daylight - and shades her eyes against it. The soft pink sweater bounces as she shakes herself, full of color and motion. Then she yawns like she just woke up from a short nap, looking at her surroundings like she’s never seen them before.

Because she hasn’t, really. Confusion’s a reasonable reaction when you’re in a very odd new location.

Mabel waves at him, waiting for an answer to her earlier question. Dipper manages a shrug, and gets a full-on sister eyeroll for being a useless older brother.

This is supposed to be impossible. Was impossible. 

For so long he held that fact close, clenched tight in his hands. Mabel was gone, because of a monster - and it filled him with righteous rage. Driving him forward, lending him strength to fight against horrible odds. He was going to make Bill pay for what he did. And for everything else, too, sure, but mostly for being the bastard who messed with his kid sister.

But now. As Dipper watches his sister move and awkwardly smile, waving a hand in his face - that built-up fury trickles out between his fingers like sand.

No mistakes, or mutilations. No parts missing, no bruises, nothing has gone wrong. She’s here and whole and alive.

Bill just. Brought her back with a snap. Like it was easy.

“So… where are we?” Mabel asks. Her waving hand gets too close to Dipper’s face, and he leans back. “How’d we even get here? Where is-”

Whatever she was going to say next gets cut off as Dipper hugs her so, so tight. 

“Oh! Uh, hey, nice to see you too!” Mabel says, with greater confusion but a return of the hug. She pats him twice on the back. Then again when he clings tighter, making a surprised sound.

It’s sentimental, he knows. But he made a promise: If he ever did see her again, she’d get one not-awkward sibling hug. The pins on her sweater catch on his shirt, and he’s pretty sure residual glitter is getting on him and he’ll never complain about either of those, ever again.

Mabel coughs, once. Then, with a gentle push, she holds him at arm’s length, patting his shoulders. The smile has changed to a look of concern. “Not that I don’t like hugs - But bro, I saw you like, yesterday. What’s up?”

Yesterday. Yeah, he did see her the day before. Left like everything was fine, not knowing or even thinking she was in danger. But she’s here and fine, now. After all this time. Thank god Bill could -

Dipper jerks his head up as he remembers where he is, and who’s here with them. 

“You alright?” Mabel asks. The expression on his face must not be great, because she trails off. Concern turns to worry. “Jeez, you look-”

“Great, right? Almost as handsome as me!”

Mabel jolts in place, whipping around towards the new voice. 

Dipper sighs, and runs a hand down his face. Oh boy. This is going to be… a thing, isn’t it.

Bill, fists braced on his sides, wiggles his upper eyelid. He lifts a third arm to wave at Mabel. “Heya!”

The startled yell Mabel lets out makes Dipper’s ears hurt. Good thing he’s still got a hold of her; that’s the second fall he’s prevented today. 

“Bill? Not cool.” Dipper glares at this asshole for the billionth time today. He’s ninety percent sure that interruption was timed to freak her out. 

“Nah, I’m always cool.” Undeterred, Bill floats closer, spreading his arms wide. “Nice to meet ya more officially, Shooting Star! How was your nap? Voidlike and existential, I’m betting.”

Mabel laughs nervously, backing up a step. Then another. “Um. Maybe? Ha ha, that’s very-” Seizing Dipper by the shirt, she tugs him close to hiss in his ear. “What is going on.”

“It’s fine.” Dipper says. Then adds, because Mabel’s gone stiff as a statue again, “Mostly fine.”

His instincts say it is, at least. Bill’s not interested in torture or ‘games’ so much as his… matrimonial target. For better or for worse, Mabel’s going to be fine. 

Glittery painted nails dig into his arm. The look Mabel gives him could be generously described as ‘skeptical’, but lands closer to ‘have you lost your freakin’ mind’’. Dipper turns away, clearing his throat. 

How to explain? There’s a lot she doesn’t know. Hell, there’s a lot Dipper still doesn’t know, he’s floundering only half as much as she is. Where the hell does he start?

“He’s right, you know.” Bill chimes in, wagging a finger. “I’m not gonna hurt ya when you could be useful. You can help with the wedding decorations!”

“Wait, wait.” Mabel tilts out of Dipper’s shadow, suddenly curious. “Wedding?”

Dipper groans, stepping between his sister and the clearly evil demon. Of course that would get her attention. Why did Bill have to get her attention? 

“Yep! And as one of the stars of the show, I gotta make this the biggest bash of the century.” says Bill, primping his tie with pride. “No holds barred, no one leaves sober, and more than the average amount of survivors!”

“You’re getting married?” 

Dipper lets out an ‘oof’ as his sister barges right past him. Mabel skips right up to the evil, demonic mastermind, clapping her hands in excitement, and he feels his shoulders slump.  Welp. He can at least say he tried. 

“Oh my gosh, congrats!” Mabel almost reaches a hand out - then remembers what a bad idea that is, and wrings hers together instead. “That’s so exciting!” 

“Thanks, Shooting Star!” Bill accepts her congratulations with a bow, doffing his hat with a flourish. His eye-smile is surprisingly sincere. “I’m pretty hyped up myself! It’s been a long time coming!” 

Mabel starts giggling. Bill starts cackling. Dipper, for his part, wishes they weren’t getting along at all. 

Thank hell it won’t last long. Mabel’s pretty goddamn thrilled about a maniac’s marriage scheme for the moment, but she was enstatued less than five minutes ago. Once she comes to her senses, she’ll realize -

…She hasn’t realized, has she. What happened to her. 

All Mabel knows is she was minding her own business one moment, then popped back up in this garden the next. A full year passed by without her noticing. Being zapped into a lawn ornament doesn’t bother her because she doesn’t remember. 

Which means Bill was, unfortunately, telling the truth. Eternal, dreamless sleep. The statues aren’t posed like that because they’re in pain. He just scared the shit out of them first.

“-have the best outfits, the best drinks, the best everything!” Bill says, catching his attention again. Dipper grimaces, watching as Bill waves off whatever Mabel just said, hovering right next to her without a care; it’s like he never zapped her into a lawn ornament. “See, we missed the chance to throw a real ceremony ages ago. It’s about time we made up for it!”

“Awww,” Mabel breathes, eyes wide. Her hands are clasped together under her chin. “That’s so romantic!”

“Hey! Nothing about this is- that. No.” Dipper points at his sister, then at Bill. “Both of you cut that out.” 

“So,” Mabel says, traitorously ignoring him. She nudges Bill’s side with one soft sleeve, winking like she has something in her eye. “Who’s the lucky gal? Or, um… demon?” A pause, biting her lip as she thinks. “Extradimensional entity?”

Uh oh. 

Dipper backs up a step. Then another. 

Checking the perimeter revels… no escape routes. Damn it. The clearing’s too wide to have someplace to hide, and darting behind the golden statue would take him right through his twin and his tormentor. 

“He’s human, actually! A real feisty cutey! In fact,” Bill says, bright. His pupil widens slightly as he turns towards Dipper, odd glimmers flickering somewhere in the depths. “I think you know the guy!”

Dipper shakes his head, backing up. As both of them focus on his face, he feels himself slowly turn red.

Mabel’s mouth forms a perfect ‘o’ of surprise, eyes going just as wide as Bill’s. Darting looks between him and the demon, hands reaching up to flutter at her mouth. Bill gives her a thumbs up, lower eyelid rising, and she gapes even harder.

No, wait. This is all a misunderstanding. A mistake. A maniac’s delusion, powered by boredom and driven by madness.

But it’s really hard to explain that. Mabel doesn’t know the context, and Bill isn’t going to be easily convinced he fucked up. If he can be convinced at all.

“So here we are! The happy couple!” Bill darts over, taking Dipper’s hand in his. The resulting struggle to escape flaps his arm in a wiggly wave. “I’m thinking a summer wedding. Y’know, wildfire season! We can-”

“Nope.” Dipper says, popping the sound at the end. Getting his hand back is a lost cause, but he can fold his arms over his chest anyway; Bill’s arm extends like a bungee cord. “Not happening.”

“Hey! One sister, one ring on your finger.” Bill reels on him, glaring now. He jabs a finger at Dipper’s chest. “Fair’s fair, a deal’s a deal, and this was more fair than ninety-nine percent of ‘em.”

“What deal?” Dipper turns his most skeptical look on his so-called suitor. Nice try, Bill - but he knows the rules. “We didn’t shake on it.”

“I- Hm.” Pausing in the middle of raising a finger, Bill lets his arm drop. The scowl of his eye is remarkably petulant. “Fine. Ya got me on a technicality. Pedant.” 

Now it’s Dipper’s turn to be smug. Bill didn’t think he knew about demon deals, did he? They aren’t complete without signing the dotted line - or in Bill’s case, palm-to-palm contact. 

For a supposedly clever entity of terror, fooling him was easy. If getting things his own way all the time has left him unable to anticipate tricks… Dipper can use that. 

“So…” Mabel speaks up. They both turn towards the interruption, and she points between the two of them. “Are you two…?” “No,” Dipper says, at the same time as Bill’s, “Absolutely!”

Two eyes meet one, equally conveying ‘I can’t believe you said that, asshole’. 

“Seriously? Still?” Bill asks, with surprisingly genuine confusion underneath the annoyance. It’s a decent lie; he even squints. “You got the sibling back. Problem solved! We can-”

“I said I had a list,” Dipper interrupts, stepping forward. It doesn’t intimidate like he wanted, though. The bastard almost looks pleased. “You know, the atrocities? The conquering? The…” He pauses, frowning. “Cut that out.”

Bill stops flapping his hand in time with Dipper’s speech, making a ‘pfft’ sound. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, heard it all before. You gotta get more specific, sapling! Communication’s a big deal in relationships!”

“Oh for- Look at this!” Dipper gestures vaguely. He doesn’t need to be specific. Waving his arm in any direction covers at least a hundred statues. “How many people did you turn into lawn ornaments?”

“Couple thousand, give or take a few.” Bill replies, as nonchalant as if he was stating his shoe size. “What about it?”

Instead of shouting again, Dipper takes a second. He breathes in slowly, then out again. He’s gotta focus here. Stay calm, and clear.

Okay. Demons. Demon rules, demon logic, and one demonic mastermind who has a totally different set of morals, in that there’s none. There’s ways to get through that, even if he has to use a verbal sledgehammer.

He rubs at the bridge of his nose, hoping the direct route will work. “Bill. That’s bad.”

“That’s a collection,” Bill objects, because of course he does. He shuts his eye, huffing haughitly. “Just ‘cause you have bad taste doesn’t mean it’s not art.” “It’s not art! It’s wrong and bad and -” Words fail him. Tact goes out the window. Dipper flips this bastard off, getting right in his face. “I’m not marrying someone who keeps human lives in his sculpture park.”

“What?!” Bill’s eye goes wide. He blinks rapidly, then shakes himself, glaring right back. “You can’t be serious.”

“Dead serious,” Dipper states, hoping the reminder of a certain expired human hits home - and it does, because while Bill doesn’t flinch, there’s a brief twitch that’s similar. He follows up on the blow, adding, “We’re not getting together. Ever.”

Oh. And that is absolutely a flinch, as Bill jerks back a half-inch in the air. His fingers flex as if wanting to grab again, before his arms fall and dangle off his lower edge. 

Guess he didn’t like that. Good.

Dipper savors the sight, squaring his shoulders in defiance. Take that, asshole. 

Before he might have kept playing along, if only to find a way out. But Bill screwed up. Mabel’s back, Dipper has what he wanted, and now it’s gloves off. Bill’s ‘reincarnation’ insanity will need multiple whacks before it starts to crack, so he better start now.

This monster wants another human toy. The old one broke too early for his taste, ruining his fun - so he thought he’d replace it with another. 

But the last guy cooperated. Fawning over his bloody surface, smiling at his crimes. A human on easy mode, basically. 

If Bill wants to pretend his ‘husband’ is back? Fine. Let him try. 

His delusion doesn’t stand a chance against Dipper.

Bill mutters to himself, eye narrowed. He glances around the grounds, then at Dipper. Briefly at the golden statue, then at Dipper again. A long pause as his gaze drifts between his captive and the courtyard, thinking his triangular thoughts. 

It takes a while, too. Whatever he’s going over, it’s giving him a lot of trouble. His pupil flickers through several symbols before it snaps back to normal, and he snaps his fingers with an idea.

“Okay. I see how it is,” Bill says eventually. “Say that, maybe, a few more humans could go ambling about in their miserable, short, fleshy lifespans. Would that make you less-”

“You know what it’ll take.” Dipper snaps, glaring right back. “All of them, Bill.”

A moment later his brain catches up to what came out of his mouth. He thinks the internal screaming doesn’t show, but it’s a close thing. 

Why did he say that? It’s amazing Bill suggested freeing any people - something he’s never, ever done - and the moment that singular miracle happened, Dipper botched the followup.

Stupid move. Even with leverage, he’s asking for way too much, way too fast. He’s arguing with a demon who never offers any favors, doesn’t care about morals, and he hasn’t even been nice to him. There’s no way that -

“Cripes, sapling. You don’t do half-measures, do ya?” Bill complains, sinking a few inches in the air. Even his limbs seem to droop under his bottom edge. “Do you know how long it took to collect this many? To get ‘em posed just right? I’ve curated the best horrified expressions, and it took like, over twenty years! That’s so much work!”

Dipper watches Bill sink midair, and says nothing. Hears the whine in his voice, like a kid complaining about not getting his favorite toy, and hums to himself. He taps his fingers on his bicep, mouth creasing into a line.

“All of them.” Dipper repeats, more firmly. Now that he’s seen a crack in the armor, he digs in the crowbar. “Every single person walks out of here alive and safe, or you’re out of luck.” 

Far too much to ask for, infinitely too much to demand, and he’s doing it anyway. It’s only the third dumbest thing he’s done today, and something tells him there’s a chance. 

“Those are my terms.” Dipper tries to stand firm, in a manly, confident way. It takes more adjusting than he’d like, but he thinks it looks decently cool. “Take it or leave it.”

“Ughhhh.” Bill groans, running his hands down his surface. His eye rolls so far back it comes around again, pupil narrowed to a single line. “You’re outta your mind, sapling.”

Which isn’t a no. Dipper perks up, leaning towards this asshole. With the right tactics -  a nudge, a shove, or a slap in demon terms - his chance might hold. 

“You already said you were bored with them, Bill.” He adds, tapping his foot on the ground. He swears Bill darts a glance at the field, very briefly. Yes, this is working - “And it’s tacky as hell.”

“Pfft, what do you know,” Bill turns away sulkily, arms crossed. “I’m not taking ‘tacky’ opinions from Mr. ‘Flannel’s my favorite’, here.”

Dipper grits his teeth against the impulse to respond. He can’t take the bait when he’s almost there. The right angle might give him just enough leverage -

Wait, didn’t Bill say his husband was insane? He probably wasn’t lying about that. Anyone who married a demon would need to know their crazy version of logic. That’s the key, isn’t it? Human reasons and basic morality would never work on Bill - but Dipper knows how these things think. 

“Fine. Whatever you say, Bill.” With a casual shrug, he turns away. Not looking back at Bill’s sudden, strange look of apprehension takes effort, but he gazes over the statue field instead.  “You can use the courtyard for shelving, I guess. I just think it’d be better for, y’know.” He waggles a hand, as if uncertain or disinterested. “A ceremony of some kind.”

A long, low complaining groan echoes through the clearing. Dipper hears a few curses, a few thuds that sound like a stomping foot, but doesn’t look over. Even though it’d be so, so good to see Bill frustrated, he can’t act like he cares.

“You’re the worst. The absolute worst,” Bill says, after his overly long groan stops. “You got way more annoying after dying! What’d they teach you in the afterlife?”

Dipper finally turns, raising an eyebrow. Bill flips him off. When Dipper still says nothing, he huffs and he puffs and fiddles with his tie, adjusting his hat - then apparently comes to a decision. 

“Fine. Fine!” Bill says, throwing his arms in the air. “But you’re not dodging a bargain twice. So if I pull this favor - you gotta quit giving me such a cold shoulder. Deal?”

Dipper blinks rapidly. What, the perfectly warranted, reasonable distance he’s keeping? The one any sane person would maintain between themselves and the literal Nightmare King? What does ‘cold shoulder’ entail, and how comparatively ‘warm’ is he supposed to be, it’s way too vague. 

He raises a hand, about to argue - Then hesitates. 

Rationally speaking, it’s… not the worst bargain in the world. Maybe. If he doesn’t have to kill or mutilate, but just not insult the guy, then… 

But this offer can’t be real. 

While his instincts tell him Bill’s kind of sincere, that he’ll put in a little effort to get what he wants -There’s thousands of people. Reversing that many will take way too long, and far too much power. Once Bill’s tired and bored he’ll wander back over with excuses, maybe a dozen freed at best.

…And that’s a dozen that can be saved. 

The garden is filled with people who’d been written off as lost causes. They’ve had funerals, been mourned and commemorized, tears have been shed over their ‘deaths’.

But Bill could bring some of them back. A dozen families would see their loved ones again. A dozen people could live their lives. An amazing rescue against absurd odds, because Dipper managed to convince the most insane being on the planet it was a half-decent idea. 

Plus, if Bill actually goes along with getting them out of demon territory - that’s at least a week where he’ll be away. Time where, say, a very clever guy could evade demonic attention, grab his sister, and make a surreptitious exit.

Tons of opportunity. A rescue. All for a little bit of semantics-based risk. 

When he looks over, Bill’s still staring, eerily silent as he waits for a reply. The way he focuses on Dipper so completely, unwavering, is really kinda creepy.

Dipper clears his throat, and picks his words carefully. 

Lying here won’t work. Bill’s an expert, he’ll spot it in an instant, so. Honesty, then. 

“There would… be a chance of me starting to think about not immediately rejecting you.” 

Technically true: the best kind of true. Dipper can consider thinking about a lot of things. Like if Bill revived literally everyone, and if he wasn’t taking over the world, and if he wasn’t a platonic shape without a single ounce of softness in his nonexistent heart. Hypotheticals are fun.

“Good enough for me!” Bill beams. He darts forward, slapping Dipper’s still-upraised palm in a high five. “Hang back and watch the show!”

Bill drifts back, humming a little tune to himself, and snaps his fingers. There’s a flash of white light.

Then the screaming starts.

Dipper has to cover his ears over the chorus as thousands of voices cry out at once. Voices filled with terror, horrified screeching, a few high-pitched wails and sobs piercing through the cacophony. Beside him, Mabel grimaces, shutting her eyes and covering her own ears.

Over the next minute, the noise dims to a murmur. Dipper dares to check the field  - hopefully everyone’s alive- 

And sees a courtyard filled with color. 

Everywhere he looks, there’s motion. Several fleeing people bump into each other in attempts to run from a foe that isn’t there anymore; Dipper can see one man helping another up. Another throws panicky punches in any direction before a tall woman grabs him by the back of the shirt. Some grab their nearest neighbor and start asking questions, while others mill around aimlessly. 

Dipper can’t see why they stopped panicking, considering where they are. Shouldn’t they -

No, wait. It’s the same as Mabel. Bill freezes people in time when he turns them into statues, catching them mid-scream. Now that they’ve finally completed their terror, there’s surprisingly little threat around. They don’t know what happened.They’ve gone from ‘demonic invasion’ to ‘peaceful garden’ in a relative instant, which is far less terrifying.

But they sure as hell seem confused. 

“There,” Bill says, with satisfaction. “Happy now?”

The question catches Dipper off guard. In all the hubbub, he’d almost forgotten who did this. 

“I, uh,” He says, mouth dry. “I thought that would take you longer.”

“Why?” 

Because everyone knows Bill Cipher only zaps a couple of people into stone at a time. Because transmuting flesh like that takes an incredible amount of power. Because the rational conclusion from those two facts was that it drained him too much to continue, leaving the rest of the town unscathed. 

The evidence in front of Dipper tells a very, very different story. 

When Bill doesn’t get a response, he shrugs. “Whatever, kid! Your cerebral cortex is running a bit slow, but I’m sure you’ll stop being dumb sooner or later!” 

“Hey!” Dipper jerks back to attention, glaring at this asshole. Then, because he should say something, adds, “You’re dumb.” “Eh, save the sweet talk for later,” Bill says, a little grumpily. “Someone got pissy about ‘morals’ in the first twenty four hours of re-meeting, and now I got a courtyard to clean up.” 

Lacing his fingers together, he pushes his arms out as if to crack his nonexistent knuckles. He adjusts his hat, sighs in a long, tired way, then drops with a thump to stand directly on the ground.

Huh. Dipper didn’t notice before, what with the floating at eye level - but for a demon, Bill’s remarkably small. His top point reaches mid-thigh at best, with the rest of his height being hat.

Bill grumbles something, snapping his fingers again. A broom pops out of nowhere and he snags it, stomping down the hillside with desultory tread. As he stalks down the slope, he leaves a trail of muttered complaints behind him.

Okay. This is weird, which means it’s basically normal for Bill. But what the hell is a broom going to accomplish? Has he run out of magic? What is he planning to do without any left? Is he just going to prod people with the handle? 

Dipper glances towards Mabel, hoping she might have some idea of what’s going on. 

Mabel just shrugs, sweater bunching up against her neck. Yeah. He didn’t think she had any answers. But it’s nice to know he’s not the only one. 

Still, Bill slinking off is a sight Dipper doesn’t mind, confusing or not. He certainly can’t complain about the results. 

Two thousand people and change, transformed into stone and back again. The crowd almost looks like they’re gathered for a concert, instead of former captives of a demon lord. The low murmur of a large crowd talking burbles through the air.

So much for Bill’s sculpture garden. It was probably an impressive collection. 

“Everyone’s back, huh,” Mabel says, both surprised and a little alarmed. Patting herself over like she’s checking for shale deposits; she must have realized her own former stony status.  “I didn’t know Bill could do that!”

“Yeah.” Dipper agrees. He wipes sweating palms on his jeans. “I didn’t either.”

What Mabel hasn’t realized is how absolutely, insanely impossible this should have been. How pulling this off would have required immense power, and remarkable precision with delicate magic. The energy required alone was… 

Dipper runs a rough calculation, guesstimating some figures, and the numbers come up with an alarming amount of digits. 

At what point does ‘magic’ change into straight-up ‘messing with the fabric of reality’? Because Bill’s dipping his nonexistent toes into that water and kicking up some friendly splashes. 

But then. If he was working on that level, why did he not change entire cities into - 

No, wait. Bill answered that already. It was a collection, he only wanted the best. Why would he mass produce figurines of human torment? It’d totally ruin their rarity. 

So it’s not about lack of power. Not about having limits. Just the whim of a madman with fucked-up hobbies, trying to preserve resale value.

Bill refrains from mass destruction because he doesn’t care to, not because he couldn’t.

The implications have only started creeping in when a massive ‘thud’ sounds from the courtyard. A vibration strong enough that Dipper can feel it through his shoes, shaking the ground, then repeating in a slow beat.

Also, the screaming starts again. 

Dipper whips around, expecting Bill to be, well. Probably smacking people with his broom like an idiot rather than doing anything productive, and he’s ready to yell at him for being an idiot. Halfway through calling out he stops, open-mouthed.

Bill’s messing with his captives, alright. Wielding the broom, to boot. He’s just also thirty feet tall. 

Within less than a minute he’s grown tremendously in size - shapeshifting, right, Dipper forgot that was one of his things - and now he stomps around the courtyard, sweeping fleeing humans into strange, glasslike bubbles forming on the lawn. While still muttering under his breath, unintelligible but grumpy.

“Oh shit,” Mabel says, in an unusual understatement. She looks towards the closest demon-expert, poking him in the side. “Is that, uh. Normal?”

Dipper simply shrugs. No expert on Bill thought he was capable of this.

Everyone knows Bill Cipher is an incredibly powerful demon. Even if his powerset was mostly unknown, it explained his ironclad rule over horrible demonic forces.

Everyone also knew that while he was the cause of the invasion, he wasn’t the main threat. Compared to roving bands of demons, he was downright convenient. 

Bill rarely leaves his Fearamid. Every month or so he pops out to mess with a few border cities, but that’s about it. He prefers to stew in his fortress like a huge, toothy beast mired in its bog. Sure, it’s deadly. You wouldn’t want to get anywhere near those massive jaws. But as long as you stay out of its range, it can’t snap a limb off. 

Now. With the amount of magic Bill’s throwing around - like it’s easy. Like it’s nothing - 

Dipper feels like he’s watching an ancient, terrifying monster emerge from hibernation. Getting to its feet, shaking off the muck, and, horrifyingly, starting to sprint. 

He rubs at his eyes. Okay, time to reevaluate. Bill’s a bigger threat than was thought, not the first time they’ve had to rerun an assessment. Finding the boundaries of his powers and the limit to his energy is just a matter of time and careful study.

As he and Mabel watch, bubbles filled with floating humans rise into the air.. Iridescent and massive, they swirl in an intertwining ballet. The sight would almost be pretty, if it weren't for all the screaming. And the gigantic triangle crouching in the courtyard, trying to fish the last few mortals out of a nearby crevice. 

Several bubbles, already filled with terrified humans swimming in midair, float up even higher. Some get as high as the peak of the fearamid, while others level off slightly below. They turn in place, as if setting their direction before zipping off into the distance and across the horizon faster than Dipper can track. 

All the equations Dipper had running grind to a halt, gears falling out and springs bouncing until they collapse, smoking, in a pile. 

Fuck it. 

“I,” Dipper declares, raising a finger in the air. “Have no idea what’s going on.”

With that said, he drops down to the grass. It’s soft enough to make a reasonably comfy seat as he rests his chin in his hands. His sister plops down to join him, patting his shoulder. 

No use trying to figure out how Bill’s doing this. Trying to calculate this comes up with really upsetting numbers, and all he’s getting from it is anxiety. 

Might as well let this asshole finish his ‘chore’. Explanations can be demanded after. 

“Aha! Gotcha!” Bill jerks up with a handful of humans, waving them about in a none-too-gentle shake. “Finally. This is taking forever.” 

Dipper rolls his eyes. If anything that was way too fast. Already the courtyard’s empty, Bill stuffing his last squirming fistful into yet another sphere of light.

He wonders what those orbs are. They’re probably not the most comfortable way to travel, but at least they’re getting people out of demon territory - and Bill’s fulfilling his part of the bargain. Hopefully they’re being flung somewhere reasonably habitable, and everyone arrives in one piece. Since Bill didn’t dismantle them beforehand, it’s even likely. 

So really, when you think about it. This is a win. Everything that happened today was a victory over the forces of evil. 

A giant, hyper-powerful triangle released all his captives, returning them to civilization. And not because he wanted to, oh no. Not because of a complicated political treaty, or a greater evil plan. Definitely not because it was the right thing to do.

Because he got yelled at.

“How did that work?” Dipper has to ask, even when the question doesn’t have an answer. “That shouldn’t have worked.”

Bill Cipher doesn’t like humans. He barely tolerates the demons around him, he’s selfish and crass and evil. One little semi-bargian with an angry nerd is too small and pitiful to even laugh at. And yet here they are.

A tap on his shoulder. “Um. Maybe you should…” Mabel looks alarmed. She tilts her head to gesture behind him.  “Dipper, look.”

When she was still trapped in stone, Dipper hadn’t paid much attention to her surroundings. He was vaguely aware that there was a bigger, metal thing behind her, but it didn’t seem like a big deal. 

It was, in fact, a big deal. Huge, in fact.

Behind where she was posed, there’s a massive golden statue of a man lying supine, arm artfully draped over the side of the plinth. Its polished chest gleams in the light, the rest covered in a sweep of sculpted cloth. And the face...

Shoulders slumping, Dipper feels his heart sink. Not more stupid dead husband stuff. Not here too. And why is it so -

Then he catches sight of the words engraved on its plinth, and grimaces. 

It reads:

DIPPER CIPHER THE ONLY WORTHWHILE HUMAN

Dipper stares at his palm. It still tingles a little from the impromptu high-five. 

Realizing, with an odd lightheadedness, that he might be in a little bit of tremendous trouble. 

His sister smiles awkwardly, lifting her arms in a shrug. “I think he’s a little obsessed with you.”

[necstasy]

listening to paul w his hand in the box n acting like im overstimming him :3

overstimulation; unprotected p in v; submissive paul; & PAUL ATREIDES MDNI 18+

one thing about paul is that he's very vocal.

he's the son of the duke. he's never been instructed to remain quiet, or to hide away in the shadows. he's always been allowed to show his true emotions. and this freedom bleeds into the bedroom, staining every motion of his.

he sighs with you when he stuffs the initial finger into your walls. he hums and moans into your center when he's eating you out. he always asks if you're feeling good, an attractive "yeah?" sealing the deal more often than not.

and while this always gets you going, the pretty sounds he makes when you're making him feel good are something else. something heavenly, placed down onto this earth as a once-in-a-lifetime blessing.

he sounds wounded sometimes. his eyes squeezed shut, his thick eyebrows attempting to meet each other in the center. before you got used to it, you used to worry. you would pout up at him and abandon your work on his sensitive cock, instead gently stroking the sparse hairs splattered over his lower abdomen. he'd truly seemed wounded when he opened his eyes, the green in them glazed over with something deeper than tears.

"should we stop?" you'd asked him. but he was always quick to deny, after pushing through the fog, telling you he was okay and that the noises were good. they were positive.

his reassurance back then led to you understanding him even better now. with the noises he's making under you, you're becoming wetter. the wanted intrusion of paul's cock nestled deep in your walls created a sloshing sound, pushing your wetness this way and that with each time you rose up and sunk down onto him. he'd already come multiple times before, the white fluid coating his pubic hair and yours a testament to just how sensitive he surely was.

but he wanted more. each time you lifted up towards the bulbous head of his dick, his lithe hips would feebly drive up in search of your warmth. and each time you gave him what he wanted, he would whine. that same painful sound slipping past his swollen and glistening lips.

it was flattering how eager he was to have you, but his motions were throwing off your rhythm. you had no choice but to plant your hands on his hips, shifting your weight down into your palms.

"stop moving," you mumbled through your own moans. and through his euphoric noises, you swear you heard paul atreides, heir to the throne, apologize.

[cultpastorkevin]

Cult Tips for AFTG writers

notes from the resident ex-cult pastor

If you’re in the cult, there is nothing bizarre abt what’s happening and in fact the normal stuff that happens outside of it is what’s bizarre to you. Target? Weird. McDonald’s? Even weirder. I can like guarantee Jean and Kevin never had McDonald’s until they left the Nest.

When you leave, you’re gonna be paranoid as fuck. All the time. Ngl at least for weeks but sometimes for years. Nightmares and insomnia 24/7. Hallucinations too lmao Riko is in every corner of empty rooms and you can hear his voice echo in the confines of the lockers.

I see a lot of Jean wanting to go back to the Nest, but not a lot of Kevin wanting to go back. He definitely struggled, 100%. In fact when he was in the pits of agony from his broken hand, was when he probably wanted to go back the most. Cult is home, cult is safe. Four walls you’ve always known and while it’s a cage at least it’s dependable. They hurt you but by god it always works out and the reward of pushing through this tragic incident is greater than the terror it caused in the first place. It’s a gift, actually. A gift from Riko. He saved Kevin. Cults save you. Cults make you wanna return to them like damn homing pigeons bruh. Give me more shattered hand Kevin screaming at Wymack to let him go back home and having a breakdown when he’s denied fics thanks

Piggybacking off the last one: cults are saviors; you’re nothing without them and they make sure you truly believe that; that everything that is done to you is for you and you’re blessed for it to be happening. You’re lucky even, to be allowed in it. Everything is as it’s supposed to be and order must never be challenged, because it works, and you’re the Edgar Allan Ravens, and this is the most honorable place you could be. All the pain you go through is you earning the right to be saved and to prove your worth every day on court. Only the worthy are honored.

You justify everything that happened and you will start fights and get angry with people who try to correct you and tell you it was wrong what went on.

On the other hand, you blame yourself for everything ever that happened there whether you were at fault or not. Hurting others, hurting yourself, gaslighting the fuck out of yourself over things maybe you could’ve prevented and over things you never could’ve stopped. The guilt is crippling and it eats you alive and haunts you.

There’s a lot of shame too. I see more guilt written than shame but shame is a huge portion of emotions that cult survivors have. Shits embarassing dude like “god how did I end up thinking this wack ass shit was normal” 😐 Shame comes later in the healing process usually, it’s after you have come to terms with shit that’s happened and you understand it. Looking back, you go “Jesus fucking Christ that was a red flag what the hell. Should’ve left then, or then, or then, or then” and then you’re just plain fuckin embarrassed.

Please look up how hive minds and brainwashing are created and work; understanding these would be incredibly helpful tbfh.

Diets are big; everyone eats the same thing; food is used as a reward and a punishment.

Hype hype hype. They whip up a frenzy of one singular emotion and use that to push you into a blind hysteria because you’re more suspectible to their influence when you’re out of your mind.

Drugs. Depends on the cult. But yeah these little bitches can be a huge factor for shit and can help with the brainwashing and hysteria and trauma bonding. Sometimes you don’t even know you’re being drugged or poisoned until you leave.

OH I ALMOST FORGOT. Dehumanization and then being treated like a person again can be traumatic as fuck yall!! Holy shit! Sometimes it feels worse than being dehumanized!

EDIT AGAIN: you don’t know what mental illness is !! Cults don’t fucking tell you these things lmao. if you show symptoms it’s your fault. Kevin being depressed his mom died was gonna get blamed on him and he was never going to be told grief is normal and it’s okay to be insanely sad. Jean also never got told his anger was correct or his trauma responses to being raped were realistic! They just got blamed for any reactions ever that weren’t neurotypical !! that is all; do with that what you will.

Idk if I think of anything else I’ll write another one but that’s all for now; I haven’t slept much lmao 🫡

[aziraphales-library]

Hi there,

Thank you so much for all your work, this blog truly breathes so much life into fandom and I've found so, so many amazing fics here! Truly, y'all are a major part of the fandom's backbone and we're beyond lucky to have such diligent curators.

I've always been struck by the opening of season 2 feeling like Crowley pre-fall outranks Aziraphale and is effectively his superior in a workplace sense (which seems to jive with Crowley implying he was high-ranking before his fall, and Aziraphale seeming a bit flustered talking to him). So I wondered if y'all had any fic recs, AU or canon, that really digs into the dynamics of Crowley being Aziraphale's boss, supervisor, manager, slightly outranking him, etc., in the vein of Good Omens being truly deep down a workplace comedy?

The one caveat I would ask is that teacher/TA or teacher/student stuff is really not my jam.

Thank you so much, truly, for your service to fandom!

Hello. We have #boss/employee and #crowley was raphael tags, so check those out. Here are more fics for the latter tag...

For the Heart of a Star by Tarek_giverofcookies (T)

Far above the newly born earth, Raphael shapes the ether. The Almighty is so pleased with his creations that she appoints him Chief Starmaker and awards the rank of Archangel. The other archangels become jealous of his advancement that defies centuries of angelic hierarchy and tradition. Raphael finds a kindred spirit after a chance meeting with Aziraphale and together, they discover the wonder of his creation and forbidden angelic love. Already on Heaven’s bad side for his inquisitive mind and new status, Raphael risks losing everything.

The Risen Prince by Angel_Cakes243 (NR)

After realizing that he can't stop the second coming, he goes to the only person he can trust. Together, they come up with a plan to throw a wrench in the whole operation. But why is Satan being so affectionate towards his Crowley? .... Crowley, bless him, could never stay mad at the angel for long. Of course he offered to help when Aziraphale came to him. Besides, he still had a few cards to play down in Hell. Now if only his older brother would stop trying to get him to take up his "rightful title."

Addicted to You As You Wish by NebulaEyes (E)

Crowley has always been a bit of a rebel. So much so that instead of waiting for God to create him, he created himself much like she did. He was, in fact, on par with her. They agreed that they stay out of each other's way, lend a hand when needed, and everything would be fine. It was. Truthfully. Until Crowley offered to groom a certain angel's wings in Eden. Unaware of it at the time, but apparently he had sent some of his own power into Aziraphale, which caused the angel to be addicted to his power and miracles. What's the fix? Intimacy. However, how far will the addiction go and how will it change things between them the longer it goes on? Why does Aziraphale want to distance himself from Crowley, and what happened once Aziraphale made it to the top of the elevator with Metatron? Read and Find out!

Three Is Not Enough by haleinedelail (T)

Ten months after the Metatron blew up their lives at the end of season 2, Heaven has placed a temptation in Crowley’s path. It's a trap, of course, and Crowley knows it, but not the kind of trap that he thinks. And, bless him, he can't resist walking straight into it. Literally physically injured, Crowley must jump headlong into saving... something. But he'll have to make a terrible choice. The story has a healthy dollop of Crowley working through his (ahem) personal demons, and grief. It has some romance, but also some harsh truths for Aziraphale, several jaunts back in time (though, not too far back!), and some exposed fuckery on the part of Heaven (the good guys, right?). I promise a happy ending, but it might be a rough road getting there... but would we have it any other way?

An Archangel's Guide To Siblings (And Other Things You Should Tell a Therapist) by Matcha_Tea_and_Other_Delights (T)

“About that, who was he? Like his rank? Do you know?” Beelzebub crinkles their nose, “What, like how I used to be a Seraph?” While the topic wasn’t that sensitive anymore to them, it was rather weird how Gabriel was asking it out of the blue. Gabriel nods, “Yes, that. What was he before?” “He was…” Beelzebub began, scanning their own memories. They remembered Crowley as a rather happy looking cherub with bouncy curls and a bright smile, always full of mischief outside of his regular duties. Duties that consisted of… “He…” Beelzebub repeated, suddenly unsure. They remembered their time as a Seraph, one that had all too much fun promoting disobedience, but for Crowley, when they try scratching for more than just the surface, everything comes up blank. Gabriel looks at them expectantly, but all Beelzebub does is breathe out a soft, “Huh.” [Or: Gabriel regained his memories after unlocking the fly Beelzebub had given him; turns out there were more memories he lost than he originally thought. Or or: The “Everyone but me has forgotten we were siblings and I have no clue how to deal with that” fic]

- Mod D

[kevin-the-bruyne]

Heyy!

I'm still not clear of the full story, except that you're being harassed and cancelled because people don't have a grasp over how fandoms work and that it's been happening for a while now.

I hope you're doing okay though. You might be used to handling bs like this but il sorry it keeps happening. Your writing is some of the best, and I always look forward to a bew fic.

And here's the thing, I don't read all of them. If the tags or summary does not tinkle my kind of delulu I MOVE THE FUCK ON. I thought this was commob practice but apparently not.

Didn't know we were out here setting dictates on whose delusion is valid and whose isn't jeez. The puritans have come for us even in the horny jail. ;(

Anyways I hope you survive the attack of the delulu police and come out with more unhinged stuff (not all of which I'll read because, yk, not my delulu, so that I can ehem... MOVE THE FUCK ON)

Hi anon, first thank you so much for the compliments. This is exactly how I and many fandom creators want to be perceived. Creators in fandom share their work for free and the only payment in return is for the like-minded people who enjoy the work to come hang out and have some fun. But the reason this ask has been on my mind for days is that, well, in general, we are currently in an era where the very act of having any type of influence over any amount of people, who will give you their time and attention, has become a 'marketable' trait.

That has entirely changed fandom and it's really apparent in the way that fandom creators have been greatly struggling with being treated like content creating influencers for years now aka they have the 'commodity' that make socmed influencers, socmed influencers but they are uniquely different in that they have no desire to wield it. I'd like to talk about the "commodification of self" that BL actors, in particular branded pairs engage in (and really any idol or even celebrity engages in this) and the position it puts fandom creators in. And some things I'd like to bring up in relation

I'm still not clear of the full story, except that you're being harassed and cancelled

1.

I'm not being cancelled. I have spent the last 2 years in this fandom making a concentrated effort to keep my sphere of influence very, very low. I never promote any of my works. I suddenly drop fics no one knew I was even thinking about, my writing blog has a blessed 10 followers. I follow no update schedules. Often I will stagger updates on purpose even when it's done, so people can forget about the fic and their excitement can die over it (I am doing it this very second with my FK Little Mermaid AU). When a popular thai twitter linked my canon verse alangaipa I privated that story within days.

After all that, if people don't stop giving a shit about me on twitter then I would have to be Arthur Conan Doyle to not have some goddamn peace. And truly, no one cares two shits about anything I do or say 🤣 (other than that one very dedicated Tumblr user with three different accounts.

2.

As for the full story, well. I think if you want to ethnographically trace when and with what the constant barrage of fighting started then the earliest we can trace it back to is at this point over a month ago, maybe even 2-3 months (month ago is when I started paying attention bless my angry anons) to pannjed (an OG FK translator) tweeting a translation of an FK clip with a comment akin to "Kt has badboy energy" and great offense was taken at the comment by as far as I can tell many people including another much newer FK translator quizii (who became the face of the pannjed opposition) because pannjed was allegedly using their translations to influence the fandom towards an unfavorable image of Kt (hilarious criticism for quizii to make btw if you read their translator notes hahaha).

BUT this answer is NOT about the wrongs or rights of pannjed and quizii, feel free to go to their twitters and read their viewpoints on your own time. The thing to talk about here is the nature of the accusation and the logic that it follows.

I say Khaotung could date Joong? SIN against FKs brand. Khaotung loves no one other than First.

I say Khaotung could be or could have dated women? BL logic dictates that inhaling any molecule of a woman can make a man straight so also a sin.

OhmKhaotung banner? SIN against the FK brand etc etc

3.

However, I don't think it's the people yelling at me who are missing the point of specifically a branded pair's fandom (heavy heavy overlaps with stan culture), it might actually be "us" the people trying to exist in the non-capitalist version of fandom who might be missing the point of what FK could be trying to achieve with their pairing. I have complained about FK starting to go harder and harder into heteronormative styles of fanservice literally since THK was announced LOL because I have followed ZNN and I know very well what the tightening of the noose around nuance looks like and why it happens.

There's no hard distinction between pairs striving for fanservice commodifying themselves and fanservice done to promote their work and really any pair successfully gaining a following via their work will ultimately be pushed to sell the fantasy of their relationship as well.

And there is certainly no moral judgement for pairs that sell their image divorced from their works, most pairs do this in fact, but it makes the pairs that lean towards fanservice vastly for the fun of it really rare. And I am certainly sad to lose Firstkhao to the capitalist vortex of fans who spend money on them to get a feeling of ownership of them and then self appoint themselves protectors of their brand and image. The LINEMAN mission failure outbreak of terribleness on twitter was such a beautiful closure on what's really going on.

Which is that we have now reached the end stage capitalism phase of the FK fandom, where fans that spend money, fans that give them constant unwavering attention specifically on X specifically using hashtags and @ to add to their engagement are The Very Best Only Real Fans and fans that don't do that, for whatever reason, even if they have been fans of FK since before the brand of FK (like me) Are Not Real Fans.

Didn't know we were out here setting dictates on whose delusion is valid and whose isn't jeez. The puritans have come for us even in the horny jail. ;(

4.

They have. They really, really have come into my jail cell and armed with bleach and brillopad scrubbing away all the penis variety I have scribbled on the walls.

But honestly? I have no idea who is right.

FK have funneled themselves hardcore into heteronormative monogamy, on purpose, once more not a moral judgement (though there is personal disappointment). They are selling the demure khaotung, protective husband first image Hard. First makes the appropriate jealousy comments. Khaotung who spent most of OF drooling over Force's biceps (god bless his gay soul) suddenly can't see men who aren't First. It's like they read this post I wrote about Branded Pair Heteronormativity and took every pointer LMAO

Puritanical fans are on a mission whose ultimate goal is to line up First and Khaotung's pockets. And by gosh do I really not care about that ! I do care that theyre not being exploited (I mean....they definitely are so like apparently I don't care too much abt that either) but whether Khaotung made enough bank this month to buy a $5000 bracelet for First or whatever the price of luxury items are these days is simply something I have never once thought about!

I hardly know the validity of statements like head cannoning Khaotung as naughty or dominating is bad for his job opportunities because I don't understand the industry well much less its values. I know that there were many thai fans also yelling at pannjed.

Is claiming that a fan creator can influence the type of jobs the artist themselves can get absolutely PSYCHOTIC? Hell Fucking Yes.

But— is it inaccurate? 🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️

And here is my very last arsenal that if people did start hating on me for calling Kt a slut on twitter then I will actually stop (but I know none of my haters can read let alone a post this long). Not because I care what they think of me but because I am genuinely unsure if that is bad for Kts image in getting brand job opportunities hence why I *exclusively* do it here now.

Anyway, your ask made me go to twitter and dig into this terribleness and so you must deal with my (of dubious quality) findings. Lots of love ❤️

[yourloveaton]

Helooo !

I hope you're doing good! I see that you're very busy with school work -mee too💔- so good luck and take care ! Always remember to relax(⁠ ⁠´⁠◡⁠‿⁠ゝ⁠◡⁠`⁠)🤍

I just happened to stumble on your au when i entered tumblr!

And...Ahem..well ..It's not really an ask but your au and how you're developing it with everyone is just so wholesome and fun to see it made me cry tears of joy LIKE LITERALLY I'M CRYIN TEARS OF JOY ATM

I just feel soooo happy as its been a long time since i entered this silly fandom, i was scared that it's already dead since i wanted to share my au for similar reasons as yours -like making my young's self dreams come true yk hehe- and i was very anxious..

But you truly inspired me, and now i cannot stop brainstorming x) it really made me so happy to see your interactions too like man this is absolutely AMAZING?! everyone keep going this is just glorious !! Everyone's aus and stuff are just MMMMM DELICIOUS FOOD YUM

So i shall join this silly fandom again, and you're one of the HUGE reasons i returned fully confident in myself !

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!SOOO SOOO MUUCCHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

LETS BE CRINGE AND FREE FOR LIFE WAHOOOOOO(⁠ﾉ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠*⁠.⁠✧

-sry if eng is bad, not my first language 👉👈-

AWWWW HELLO !!! THANK YOU FOR YOUR BLESSINGS, I wish you the best luck and health too 🥹🙏💖💖💖💖💖💖

I’m so happy to know I was be able to inspire you to create your own world too, I know it’s nerve wrecking thinking whether it’d be too cliche or not, or when you try to enter a fandom on your own, you don’t have any idea what to do and what to say which is soooo ahhhh !!! 🥲🥲🥲

So yeah I totally get you, that’s why I’m overjoyed with the news !! Congrats !!! Just do the things you’ve always wanted to do, YOU WONT REGRET IT FOR SURE EHEHEHE Developing an au is very fun so I’m sure you’ll enjoy it, we are all here together to share our love for this game and our creations hehehehe

But yeah, being cringe is the way to go HAHA never be afraid !!! Welcome back to the fandom, I hope you enjoy your time here 🥹💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

[ponderingmoonlight]

Thank you to everyone who supported my blog in 2023 🤍

I can't put into words how much I love every single one of you for your support. No matter if you like one fic of mine or my whole blog, no matter if you write me anon or leave a comment. Let me tell you that I appreciate every minor interaction with the stuff I create over here 🤍

When I started this blog in September (I think lol) I was so scared of sharing my thoughts. But you were supportive right from the start, encouraging me to follow my ideas even in times I didn't feel like it. You might not even know how much you helped me through dark times, how much your constant support lifted me up and helped me getting over the shit that happened 2023 (like Shibuya damn). You have become such an important variable in my life that this blog is literally like a baby to me 😭

Thank you for sticking with me through 2023. I hope you'll stay in the new year as well 🤍

Also, I'd like to take this moment to pay a special thanks to my lovely moots:

@belovedvamp I know we basically just started talking, but you seem like such a fun person and I totally relate to your Yuta affection lol. Thank you for supporting my works through your constant likes, comments, reblogs and requests. I hope we'll stay in touch this new year 🤍

@risuola you are such a sweetheart. Not only is your writing chef's kiss and you were one of my first ever obsessions here on Tumblr (you are still lol), but you make me laugh and cry like no other. You literally seem like such a fun person and put a smile of my face the second you post. Please keep up being so damn cool and please NEVER stop writing those amazing fanfics 🤍

@kawaiiakamaru we aren't moots for that long but you are supporting me for so long. Just seeing a comment or a blog entry from you makes me happy, as well as your cute profile pic (please never change it hehe). Your first ever fic was absolutely amazing, please keep up the good work and make sure to tag me in your new fics of this year 🤍

@sorrowfulrosebud it's funny how we met through that dang annoying anon who still keeps bugging you lol. In some kind of way, I'm actually thankful for them. Not because of the nonsense they are getting on your nerves with, but because I got to get in touch with your wonderful blog. You are funny, you seem passionate and are so talented like it's absolutely insane! I hope you finally get to live in peace on your blog and continue blessing my timeline 🤍

@ynackerman9499 first of all let me tell you how absolutely sorry I am for not publishing any of your requests recently. They're all so good I literally don't know where to start 😭 you are such a sweet person, our little talk made me giggle the entire time and I love that we basically have the same taste in anime and anime men hehe. Thank you for supporting my blog and especially looking out for me the whole time, I hope we'll talk again soon 🤍

@sitarawrites you actually were one of my first moots over here and our conversations were priceless. I was so happy when you finally decided to share your great works with us! You are truly such a talented writer who makes us feel the emotions of our favorite jjk characters like none other. Also, I love that you are a badass bitch who takes no shit from others. You are actually my example when it comes to badass characters 😭 I wish you all the best and hope that you get the love, appreciation and clamness you deserve in 2024 🤍

@sunshine7queen you are my no 1 supporter since day one and I love you from the bottom of my heart for it 😭 Everytime I open up my tumblr and see that you left a comment under my works (like you literally always do), I get excited immediately, like why is it so fun to chat with you. Also, you share the greatest treasures when it comes to cool artwork or other fics: you're my greatest source for great content over here! Let me thank you for every comment, every like and every reblog and how you always make me feel good about myself. You are a true sweetheart, stay the way you are and have the lovliest new year 🤍

@wifenanami your obsession for Nanami is just as great as mine and I love you for it. But not only that, you are my number one when it comes to Nanami requests and therefore fics on this blog. Literally half of my Nanami fics exist because of your great request that make me laugh and warm my heart while shattering it and making me cry. Also, your artwork is way too good for this world. Sometimes I go through my requests just to see your pics 😭 Thank you for making my 2023 better with your comments, your aesthetic blog and your request. I hope you're sticking with me through 2024 as well 🤍

@selen1um-hexafluoride you are such a funny person, your blog entries made my day so often that I lost count. Let me tell you that your unnecessary opinions definetely matter to me and that I enjoy every single one of them. You write your hcs like a pro, I literally can't wait to see more of you. Please don't stop writing and make sure to tag me in your works (when you find out how hehe) 🤍

@sanicsmut girl, you're the love of my life. Seriously, since that day you decided to comment under my first ever Choso works you've been by my side and supported my works even though they didn't have your favorites (=Choso and Hiromi lol) in them. Even though we don't chat that often, I love your lil comments under my shitpostings as well as I love to see what's going on over there on your blog. You seem like such a funny talented person it's seriously unfair 😭 Also, see this as a petition for you to post more artwork of yours because it's GORGEOUS! Love ya, thank you for all the support and let me see you again this year 🤍

@lees-chaotic-brain oh Petra, you are such a sweet, passionately and badass chick it makes me all emotional. You were my first moot over there and stuck with me ever since. Even though we didn't talk much these last weeks because we're both pretty stressed, I still adore you and our conversations with all my heart. You are such a strong person, going through all this hate of last year with confidence, not letting anyone getting you down that you have been a true example for me. Despite all the things you've been through, despite all the shit you have to endure, you're still so fucking strong and I truly admire you for it! Also, you are one of my all time favorite writers here on Tumblr - no one does it like you! Let me take this opportunity to thank you. Thank you for being my first ever moot, thank you for listening when nobody else did, thank you for the amazing content you gift us with. I'm so glad I met you and I am beyond glad that you are the person that you are. Let nobody ever take your spark away from you (and I publicy promise to finally get your request done) 🤍

@lizziespoem we didn't hear much from each other the last few weeks, but let me tell you how proud I am that you're looking out for yourself and that you put yourself first. Even though I miss your gorgeous fanfics and to just talk to you, I hope with all my heart that you are doing well my german tumblr bestie (melde dich gerne mal wenn du Zeit und Lust hast) 🤍

@hitori979 you're truly making me emotional. You have to be one of the few people who supported me from day one. Your endless comments, you defending me, you liking my whole stuff. Like...I can't even put into words how much you mean to me. I know how busy you are and that you rarely find the time to scroll through Tumblr and get in touch with my works, but you always make sure that I feel appreciated. Even though you don't even know me (and how I just realized I don't even know your name) you check on me from time to time and cheer me up when I feel down. I love our little conversations about jjk manga, I love your opinion on basically EVERYTHING and I love how geniuely funny you are. Let me tell you that your support means the world to me and that I get excited just when reading your blog name. Let me tell you that your ideas inspire me and are actually the source of like half of my best works! You seem like such a smart and empathic person. I really hope the new year brings you less work stress and all the things you ever wish for. You deserve the world, love. And I will be forever thankful for you finding my blog and deciding to support me through everything 🤍

@lavenderdrxp thank you thank you thank you for your likes, reblogs and comments. I loved our lil chitchat and actually enjoyed chatting with you so much that I hope we'll be able to do it anytime soon again 😭 Also, let me promise you that I'll publish your request this year hehe. Have the happiest new year with new episodes of our favorite anime coming soon 🤍

Okay, now I'm crying a lil on my own. Just...thank y'all. Have the nicest 2024 ever 😭

[cranialisotope]

very minor point as a person working in a small hobby business: small businesses within the hobby industry very, very, very, VERY much want you to use what you buy! when you don't use what you buy, you stop buying at all!!

please understand that i mean this in the kindest and most appreciative way possible. we don't stay afloat because of casual or non-committed buyers; the "equipment" parts of your purchases are generally one-time purchases, yes, but the consumable parts of your hobby—in my case, yarn, fiber, fabric, and similar—are truly our bread and butter. that's what helps pay my bills, and feed my coworkers' children, and keep all our lights on. you help businesses like mine (14 people on staff, only one store!) to keep our doors open by being an active participant in your hobbies, and we're incredibly, endlessly grateful for that. i am privileged and honored to have the job i have now. without it, i'd probably have to work at a big-box store selling mass-produced plastic stuff made with completely unfair labor that never breaks down in the landfills they end up in, and not putting any of the knowledge i've accumulated over the last 10 years to good use.

big box hobby stores often do want to drown you in stuff you'll never use, because their biggest target is to churn out pre-made stuff for you to consume monetarily—seasonal crap (i buy it too, i know how it is), trinket-type stuff you don't USE for anything, and pretty, but ultimately hyper-niche supplies that you struggle to find a good use for. your local and small-team craft stores are in competition with those big box places, and we're trying desperately to get you to use what you buy so you'll be inclined to come back. and we truly do understand that hobby supplies are expensive, we're not making big bucks either! but every dollar spent with us is, for lack of a better word, a blessing. we appreciate you so very much!

plus: the more things you make for yourself, the fewer mass-produced things end up in your home, and in the homes of your loved ones! particularly in my hobby area, that often means less plastic! which is always a win, in my book. everything else the OP lists is completely true. engaging in hobby practices is good for you. good for your brain! good for your fine motor control, a lot of the time! anything make or write or draw or create is an INFINITELY better gift than some filler thing you bought out of obligation!

all of this is to say... please participate in your hobbies as much as you feel you can. please, please, please. it makes your fellow makers happy. it adds things to your life and the lives of those you care about that are precious and one of a kind. doing what you love makes the world a better place.

(this is already quite long, so... cut)

and as another aside here, on the subject of mass-produced things. there is a LOT to be said about it, and i don't shy away from that—we surely sell some things that aren't produced as ethically as they could be! i don't pretend that the business i work for (or any business to be frank) is without flaws, nor do i think there's no place in the world at all for mass production, necessarily. it's an extremely complex and nuanced issue, and i'm no expert.

however! what i CAN say with certainty is that we work with quite a number of other small, often family-owned businesses for our various supplies. from handspinning efforts in Africa and Japan, to equipment makers in New Zealand, Poland, the Netherlands, Canada and more, to various handcrafters here in the USA, and so many others I can't manage to name. a couple of these places have been doing it for over a century! so your support of smaller niche hobby businesses very often does help to support people all around the world who are also running their own small businesses, and trying their best to support the folks who work for them!

back again encouraging people to start using the hobby stuff they've been acquiring for years

reasons to start can include:

the hobby industry wants only for us to keep buying and never use, so using the stuff pushes back

some hobby items do not survive long term storage

if there's some craft or hobby thing that you want to do but feel your skills aren't up to, consider that those skills won't improve if you don't practice on other things

using it allows it to move from the hobby hoard to the [whatever you made it into] hoard, where you may be more likely to enjoy it more often than just when you specifically look at the hobby hoard

making things is good for the brain

curious to see what other reasons people might add

[lilu84]

Vendor thoughts 💭:

It’s very interesting how we as humans perceive one another on the outside, ignoring how interconnected we are. It can be too easy to judge, it’s like it takes intentional conscious awareness to go beyond what is seen with the eye.

Now it’s not a norm for a person to be playing music from a stereo and walking around with the music on their hip playing loudly. Like it’s something seen in the summer type ish, upstate New York, unkay. It’s winter and Christmas holiday. He walking around with his hip radio playing Jadakiss 🎶loudly. For me it gave away he not from around here. Foreign vibes I enjoy, healthy boundaries.

So the man with the loudest music playing on his hip stops by my vending table.

He started to make conversation with me about what he sees on my vending table. He says, what is that about 777? I come from a rough traumatic background I AM from the city and came up here to get some type of peace. I grew up in the early 70s. I seen alot and I work alot, I was living to survive and I just want some peace is why I moved up here.

So I then shared what angel numbers were. He goes, yea wait hold up 666 is the devil number I said um your right that is what society taught us. 666 can also mean to refocus. He says, “wow I could learn from you all day” I never had time to like get into this stuff. I told him, “ all is well just make sure you make time for GOD” I pointed to the booklet in his hand that was being passed out called, Living Water the Gospel of John. I had one too. Love to read, yes I do.

Then I asked, hey before you leave would you like to pull message from the Universe he goes, “sure”. As he pulls in closer standing beside me he shares how he can’t believe he is by himself shopping at Christmas time. He says, “I was married for 15 years and my wife left me for another woman, and we have 3 kids. I work so much is all I do like I use it as a distraction. Like holidays mean alot to me spending time with family because I work so much. And I AM alone not with family I AM at the mall but myself shopping at Christmas time”. He began to cry.

Mind you the card that was pulled was new beginnings and protection. Whoa 😳 💜🙏🏽🥅🛶it’s an honor to be reminded of what is already known but to question am I doing that though? Being a mirror of what I want to receive…?

Releasing the old narrative, cultivating a new one. Deprogramming society norms to adopt our own individually. If it’s not making sense create change. Have to get change when we adding cents. Stay flexible.

I asked, “can I have a hug”. He said, “yea”, sharing that he doesn’t even know why he stopped by my table, he loves colors is what caught his attention. I said I know why because we all need reminders, WE ARE NOT ALONE. He said, “ this is embarrassing, right? I don’t even know you”.

I said, “not at all, it’s called being vulnerable and it’s okay to be. It’s finding the safe space to do so”. He said, “thank you”.

“Can I stay in connection”, he says. I said, “you sure can, I shared, here my social media handle @maybeiwillessentials”.

He then went on about his way, sharing before he stepped away he is glad he stopped by. I shared, “me too”.

Never judge a book by it’s cover. The person playing the loudest music needs understanding too. The most tangible thing we can offer one another is our attention. We just never know what the next person is going through. Keep walking in love. We are interconnected no matter differences on the outside. THANK YOU GOD/DIVINE/ UNIVERSE I AM TRULY GRATEFUL FOR THE WORK I DO IN THE COMMUNITY. THANK YOU FOR LEADING THE WAY. Blessings always.

[ackermans-angel]

ELISE’S ACC RECS | TOM HIDDLESTON & LOKI

A/n: Since I never write (because I’m not very good lmao) I thought I’d share my favourite Loki and Tom Hiddleston fanfic writers 😩🤚🏻 especially because a lot of them have been going through some stuff and deserve THE WORLD. so if you’re an account I mention in this list I just want you to know that YOU ARE SO INCREDIBLY TALENTED AND ALL THE EFFORT YOU PUT INTO YOUR FICS IS APPRECIATED. Thank you sm for all that you do <3

WARNING: I WON’T BE MORE CLEAR ON THIS! If you proceed to these accounts make sure to look at the rules and warnings. please respect the account owner, as some of them don’t want people under the age 16 or even 18 on them. ALWAYS READ WARNINGS ON FICS TO INSURE YOU ARE RESPECTING THE WRITERS GUIDELINES!!!

One more thing! IF YOU LIKE A FIC PLEASE REBLOG NO MATTER THE ACCOUNT! The easiest way to show a creator you care and that their work is being appreciated is to reblog reblog reblog! They spend hours of their time creating work FOR US. The least we can do is REBLOG!

Accounts under the cut.

@grufflepuff-writes-stuff : KAT’S LOKI LULLABIES ARE PHENOMENAL. If you’re a sucker for pure fluff and a bit of angst I HIGHLY RECOMMEND HER WORK!

@ohdearhiddles : I can’t even begin to describe the amount of comfort I get from these fics. The way Hannah writes Tom *chef kiss* her angst is my favourite;)

@sserpente : Alright, If you haven’t read any of Stef’s work you are truly missing out. The way she writes Loki is 100000% cannon. I believe it every single time. (Plus she writes for most characters Tom plays)

@shiningloki : Bee! One of the sweetest people on tumblr. Her Loki and Tom fics are masterpieces sent from heaven. (Literally could not stop reading “behind locked doors”) Her writing makes me feel like I’m actually there, Like how?

@munsons-maiden : AHSHDJKSKDS KIKI!the way she writes in second person is un-human. The way she captures her stories through imagery is beyond me. THE WAY SHE BLESSES MY EYES WITH HER TALENT. 😭🤚🏻 go read & reblog asap!

@that-writer-who-never-posts : I read their Tom fics over and over and OVER. They are so creative and just make me so happy. The father Tom fics HURT. MY. HEART. AGHHH.

@youlightmeupfinn : FJSKSKSKKWKDFJC TAYLOR! THANK YOU FOR EXISTING! Seriously though, if you like Tom and have not read any of Taylor’s series then you are missing out. Her Loki fics are also *chef kiss*

@agentofkrypton : Zees AUs are so incredibly creative and thought out. I only ever read her Loki and Tom work, but she writes so much more! Bestie sends me into cardiac arrest every. time. I read her work.

@babylevines : The amount of flavour in mimi’s fics is absolutely amazing. Binged all her Tom fics in one night. Doesn’t post anymore but all her work is definitely worth a read.

@fanficshiddles : Dark Loki? Check. Dark Tom? Check. Complex interesting plots that leave you on the edge of your seat? Check. I mean honestly, if you want to go for a wild ride, get your popcorn and head over to their masterlist asap.

@earlgreydream : FIRST ACCOUNT I EVER FOLLOWED FOR LOKI FICS! If you’ve ever heard anything bad about her IGNORE IT! Grey is so talented and honestly one of the nicest people ever. People need to stfu and stop being salty. Like get over urselves 🙄🤚🏻 not everyone can be a baddie like grey 😎 Anyways, go. read. her. work. now! She also writes for Hp ;)

@clandestineloki : Their Loki drabbles are literally the sweetest thing ever Oml. Like how do you give so much character to 500-1000 words? Also the only person I’ve ever seen who writes a filipino!readerxLoki and I think that’s amazing.

@lostalioth : Jules! AHHHH HER LOKI AND TOM FICS ARE BRILLIANT! Jules is so sweet and I’m so glad I stumbled upon her account. She also writes for other characters so definitely go check her out! Her masterlist.

@ragnarachael : OMGGGG RACHAELS WORKK! I love it. I can never get enough, not to mention, she writes guitarist!Loki, and I’m OBSESSED! I swoon every time she releases something new.

@lokiskitten : Their stepdad!tom work has me on my knees. Such wonderful stories and creative plots, I’m always happy when they release something for Tom or Loki. More recently, they write for Sebastian Stan/his characters ehehe.

@gingerwritess : OMGG LOKIS HAPPY ENDING IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE THINGS IVE EVER READ! I highly recommend reading Theo’s work, the way she writes Loki is phenomenal!

@latent-thoughts : In my opinion they are one of the most cannon Loki writers out there. Their Loki one-shots> their Loki stories> their blog>>> they are so incredibly talented, and the way they write IS FLABBERGASTING. Definitely go check their work out ASAP.

@emeraldiis : JADE IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE WRITERS ATM. She has the perfect mixture of sub and dom Loki, and the way she writes switch Loki is ASTONISHING. I can never get enough, all her stories are amazing.

@imnotrevealingmyname : they write some of the most wholesome, intimate, Loki blurbs. I don’t know how they do it, but when ever I read their work it just feels so real and special. They put a Lot of emotion into their work and it’s just beautiful!

@maiden-of-asgard : AGGDHJFJFK I LOVE LOVE LOVEEEE THEIR WORK JTKDKSKAK. I read frostbite and it is one of my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE STORIES EVER. I haven’t read a lot of their one shots, but from the few I’ve read, they are amazing. Go read frostbite 😌

@asgardwinter : I love. Love. Love. LOVEEE how Bianca writes. All her loki stories that I’ve read are so GOOD. Her word choice and the way she writes love, is beautiful and unspoken. You can tell two characters are in love without her explicitly saying they are in love. Just, her work is phenomenal.

@sarahscribbles : AHHHHHH Her Loki one shots are so creative😌 like I just love all her ideas. Saz always have the perfect amount of angst and fluff, and her fics are just so wholesome to read. Go check out her stories asap

@give-me-a-moose : CAS IS ALSO SOOOO CREATIVE! Her Loki stories are always so fun to read. She has a great sense of humour and you can see it in her writing. Whenever I need a good laugh or just want to read something tooth-rotting sweet, I always go to her one shots and fics.

@stjarnaloki : Hannah is also one of my favorites atm. Her Tom and Loki work is fantastic, I can’t stop reading it. LIKE IM OBSESSED ITSSSS SO GOOD! Go read now, you won’t regret it!

@cake-writes : Bri omgggggg. I’m speechless. I love the way she writes. Like, the way they write for Loki is outstanding. Her smut 10/10 I’m so glad I found her acc.

@michelleleahhh : I kid you not. I have never cried in the two years I’ve been reading fanfic. I cried at the end of one of her series. They are probably my favourite series I’ve ever read. Go. Read. ASAP

@silver-tongued-bby : I’ve only read a few of her fics so far, BUT OMGGGGG HER DARK LOKI >>>>> she writes incredibly creative stories for Loki. Definitely go check her acc out if you really REALLY like dark Loki.

@trickster-maiden : she is so sweet and her writing is adorable omggg. She turned one of my Loki HCs into a fic once and it was just so amazing and beautiful. I don’t read a lot of first person fanfic, but when I do, it’s definitely hers<3

@megthemewlingquim : HOLY HECK this is another writer that just amazes me with how short their fics are sometimes BUT THEY ARE BLOODY AMAZING. Their Loki fics make my head 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

-

NOW GO READ, LIKE, AND REBLOG THESE WONDERFUL WRITERS FICS! And again, please respect their guidelines.

p.s. I’ll probably update this list in the future :) I also may make a list of my favorites fics, but I haven’t decided yet.

[sitp-recs]

I posted 4,396 times in 2022

958 posts created (22%)

3,438 posts reblogged (78%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@the-starryknight

@sitp-recs

@stavromulabetaaa

@lqtraintracks

@ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm

I tagged 3,753 of my posts in 2022

Only 15% of my posts had no tags

#asks - 561 posts

#anon - 336 posts

#drarry recs - 231 posts

#drarry art - 205 posts

#fave - 151 posts

#drarry - 121 posts

#to read - 108 posts

#ask game - 93 posts

#drarrymicrofic - 91 posts

#signal boost - 76 posts

Longest Tag: 116 characters

#interacting with adults at that age could have gone terribly wrong but i was lucky to find good people along the way

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Hey! Can you please rec some fics by authors with the most unique, beautiful writing style? I’ve read some works of fandom legends like tepre, aideomai etc, maybe there are writers that are not so widely known but very talented nonetheless? Thanks 💓

Hi anon! We are blessed with so many talented authors in this fandom it blows my mind every time I think about it. As someone who knows very little about writing styles, my opinion here is 100% subjective and largely influenced by the fics that came to my mind when I read your ask. I’ll linked them below, together with the authors’ AO3. Enjoy!

@blamebrampton | AO3 | My rec

@corvuscrowned | AO3 | My rec

@drarrytrash | AO3 | My rec

Frayach | AO3 | My rec

@graymatters | AO3 | My rec

@harryromper | AO3 | My rec

@jackvbriefs | AO3 | My rec

Omi_Ohmy | AO3 | My rec

@potteresque-ire | AO3 | My rec

RurouniHime | AO3 | My rec

Seefin (orphaned their works) | My rec

@shealwaysreads | AO3 | My rec

@tackytigerfic | AO3 | My rec

@the-starryknight | AO3 | My rec

thistle_verse | AO3 | My rec

@vivantesopales | AO3 | My rec

And whoever wrote Emerald in the Sky - are you on this list MA???? Let me love you!

279 notes - Posted July 26, 2022

#4

shit-recs

Fill this out pls

287 notes - Posted January 30, 2022

#3

Did you see the update from GallaPlacidia (her email newsletter) that she’s deleting all her fics and podfics 10/1? I mostly most Good Omens stuff so I doubt my followers have read her stuff. I just want to pass along the word so people could download if they want to save her works. They’re all so good! I’ve always loved your posts and you seem to have a wide audience so figured I’d reach out to you, if you’d like to share the info. And if anyone has suggestions on how to save her podfics that would be helpful! I listen to them on my phone and have no idea how to download them. 🤪

Oh no, that’s heartbreaking news! I don’t receive her newsletter so I had no idea. How sad, I know lots of people love her work and will be truly devastated 😰😰 thanks for reaching out and sharing this, I am definitely saving my favourites and I hope everyone has the chance to do the same. Oh and good question about podfics, I’ve never downloaded any either but maybe my followers have some tips to share? Thanks again for this message, I think I’ll pin it for the time being so more people can see the news. Have a lovely week!

GallaPlacidia’s AO3

The GallaPod

@geesenoises has kindly put an archive of GP’s works together, you can access it HERE!

330 notes - Posted August 28, 2022

#2

Happy New Year! Surprising absolutely no one I wasn’t able to finish this in time for NYE, oops!(And that’s why ‘stop procrastinating’ is on my resolutions list 😂). This post probably has tons of typos still so please bear with me, I promise I’ll be back later to correct them!

Simply put, 2021 was a train wreck - I struggled in many ways and decided to take a step back in some regards, including fandom. It’s been a bumpy road but despite the low amount of recs this blog has survived and there were definitely some things to celebrate, too! Once I stopped making reclists I got more free time to read, and I’m proud to say I’ve read a lot. I haven’t felt very confident about my reccing lately, but as I went through my bookmarks and noticed how much I read last year I thought why not spread a bit of love for these works?

Without further ado here are my favorite reads of 2021 featuring Drarry, rare pairs and some gorgeous artworks. This is not intended to be an ultimate list - the works below were chosen solely based on my personal preferences and they reflect very little of what’s been made last year, and what a year it was! Between brilliant microfics, Tumblr drabbles, top notch quality fests, there’s some amazing and varied content to be explored all around. I hope you guys enjoy these works as much as I did, and don’t forget to leave kudos and comments!

The Drarry fandom gave me so much last year; it was there to mend my heart and help me bounce back when I needed it the most. Even the smaller things can make a huge difference in the big picture, and I’m immensely grateful to those who have somehow been a part of it. I wanna give a special shoutout to my friends for your endless love, patience and support. Here’s to a gentler 2022! See you soon ❤️

Drarry:

Phoenix in the Fire by @fw00shy (Explicit, 1.4k)

Their first time was an accident. "Sex pollen," Draco claims, though everyone knows it was too much Ogden's after Puddlemere beat the Tornados 240-230.

This is truly a masterclass in short form, I think I hadn’t read a short fic so gorgeously written since Still Life. Fwoosh took my breath away with the precise choice of words, the subtle way the scenes blend into each other, the sinful smut full of sharp want, the smooth pacing and fabulous dialogue including delicious dirty talk and beautiful punchlines.

The Long Fall by @tackytigerfic (Mature, 3.6k)

It's supposed to be a simple house renovation, and maybe it's just the paint fumes, but Harry is feeling dizzy around Draco Malfoy. And what's the real meaning of family, anyway?

One of my favorite comfort fics, I’ve reread this more times than I can count. Tacky captures romance, wistful pining and the sense of belonging like no one else, I was moved by this devastatingly realistic portrait of married and parenting life. Sensitive, brutally honest and so very tender, this story hits right in the feels - it’s a pleasure to follow every exciting step of this big adventure Harry and Draco get to share.

Two Starts, One Finish by @lqtraintracks (Explicit, 5.4k)

I feel him before I see him. Nobody stands this close to me while I’m playing, and I’m about to turn to tell him so when he says, “You’re a tough bloke to track down,” and then leans against my baby grand.

When I first read this fic I did it three times in a row. I was so charmed and moved by this particular brand of angst: the gentle wistfulness of Draco’s voice, his yearning for Harry, their quiet domestic life and their intense chemistry made my heart burst. Lqt develops their emotional arc through the passage of time with precision and heart - nothing feels rushed, dragged or unimportant. One of the most romantic fics I’ve read this year.

Inside These Walls by @jackvbriefs (Mature, 5.6k)

The year before Draco moves to Los Angeles, Harry Potter disappears. Draco doesn't mean to find him. He's just doing his job.

This fic has one of my favorite premises ever, so creative! The roller blade magic blew my mind and I was obsessed with the intriguing atmosphere and the tension build up. Delicious eerie vibes mixed with an unusual setting, a dark mystery surrounding Harry’s job and his oh so casual sexy display of power, yes please. This suspense is a feast to the senses and will leave you at the edge of your seat until the last line, craving for more.

heavy by @onbeinganangel (Explicit, 6.5k)

Potter isn’t nearly as slick as he thinks he is, is all Draco can think about through the alcohol haze and the dizzying atmosphere of the club. He really, really isn’t. Potter is across the club, surrounded by his usual entourage, looking at Draco when he thinks Draco isn’t looking back.

There’s something to be said about a BDSM fic featured on this reclist as I rarely read this kind of smut. Trust Mari to turn my world upside down with one of the most touching love stories ever. This conflicted Draco and his devotion to Harry -subverting the D/s dynamics we usually see- caught me off guard and made my heart ache for this hot, tenderly vulnerable and unapologetic kink exploration delight.

The Other Cottage by @corvuscrowned (Teen and Up, 6.5k)

If Pansy wasn’t shagging Ginny Weasley, Draco would never have been dragged to Luna’s ridiculous Halloween party in the first place - meaning he wouldn't be sitting in the corner of the room with Harry Potter all night.

One word: chills! Yet another mind blowing suspense, this fic gave me palpitations - the smooth and clever narrative builds a disturbing atmosphere, the creepy sense of unease looming over our heads while watching a tender romance unfold. Crazy, right? Such skill! Really creative concept and a jaw dropping ending, this one is a banger.

A Grey Shrike Alighted upon my Wishbone by @opalesqueopioid (Explicit, 7k)

Cursed to forget everything about Harry Potter, Draco has to kill if he wants a cure.

Gosh, this stunning fic wrecked my heart and soul with its quiet devastation, gorgeous prose and brilliant execution of a quite unique suds concept. Draco’s sharp personality took my breath away and I was equally undone by Harry’s sweet longing, the back-and-forth banter and the raw, inevitable heartbreak. Here’s a poignant portrait of a collapsing relationship, the best pick for angsty days.

Merlin's Kitchen by @writcraft (Explicit, 12k)

Merlin’s Kitchen is a shit nightclub but having sex with Harry Potter might improve things.

Everything by Writcraft has the heart kick factor for me, as if especially crafted to meet my tastes. This sexy clubbing fic has a delicious lively pub atmosphere that makes you feel like you’re right there, watching a carefree and smooth Harry charm Draco with his openness, and be charmed back. Fabulous characterization and gorgeous dialogue, with a mature tone that gives it a thrilling sense of intimacy and promise.

The Virtues of Hygiene and the Binary of Labour by @piarelei (Explicit, 14k)

See the full post

487 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

It’s fascinating how some people dismiss smut as something frivolous, vain, lacking substance and therefore value. To be clear, sex is not (and should never be seen as) mandatory in fic, and I feel heartbroken that some authors think they need to include it in order to have their work read or appreciated.

But in my opinion PWPs can be just as deep, nuanced, evocative and narratively powerful as any other story. In fact, they make for excellent character studies and can get you inside a character’s mind in a very particular way. And smut scenes in long fics can be just as useful as narrative tools, often translating dynamics too complex to be explored otherwise. Plus, they’re great for sad horny nights 😔🙌

1,849 notes - Posted March 31, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[levis-little-nuggie]

hi! i just saw the post about requests and could you write some fluffy sex headcanons with the brothers? we don't really see stuff like that so i thought i'd ask

Bless you nonny for the request 💜💜 this uh, turned out a lot longer than I had anticipated, probably because I haven't written anything in a good while 😅

Asmo and Belphie will have their own posts 💜

Nsft, obviously, so everything is under the Read More. I made the reader as gender neutral and inclusive as I could. Please let me know if at any point, I was exclusive.

Fluffy Sex Headcanons of the Demon Brothers

(minus Asmo and Belphie)

Lucifer

This man will top or bottom solely dependent upon what you want. Sex with him is moreso about pleasing his partner than just getting off. His preferences are fine tuned to your desires and your body’s limits. Lucifer’s sin feeds off of the immense pride a lover feels when they know you and your body better than you do

He may act cold and aloof in public and in front of others, coming off as stoic and arrogant, but it’s a completely different story behind closed doors.

However you want him, he’ll comply. You’ve done the impossible and captured his heart.  Don’t let this old man and his brown shoes fool you, he’ll drown you in passion.

He’ll gladly play the Dom role, but he’ll also gladly be your sub as well.

If you’re into BDSM and prefer him to Dom, you can expect an intensive aftercare routine that would rival Asmo’s. It’s not that he doesn’t like hurting you or pushing you to your limits, he just wants to reward you for being so good for him and wants to remind you how much he loves you.

If you’re into BDSM and prefer to Dom yourself, go crazy! While you would be capable of marking and bruising his skin, you can’t physically hurt or break him beyond light scratches. He can break out of whatever restraints you put him, even if they are demon-grade. You would need actual spells to diminish his strength to put him on par with a lower-class demon if you wanted him to actually feel any real pain, but if it’s what you want, he’ll do it. Expect a conversation beforehand about what you want and how he can do that for you. He wants there to be clear communication so he knows how best to serve you in the moments to come.

Sure the sex is fantastic, but he’ll show you how much he loves you in the tender moments after. The afterglow is his favorite part, both of you basking in the remnants of pleasure coursing through you, the physical numbness, and the swell of feel-good chemicals swirling through your bodies. This is when he’ll hold you closest, pepper your skin with kisses unable to stop himself, he’ll play with your hair if you have it, his eyes will be bright, his smile will be unrestrained. He may even start humming a long-forgotten lullaby or your favorite song as he rests his head against your chest, hearing your heartbeat in blissful content until one of you decides it’s time to get cleaned up.

No matter how long the day has been, the amount of hours he’s put into all that damn paperwork, he’ll always make time to pamper you after sex. If you prefer to shower alone, he’ll let you go first and have the bed ready with new, clean sheets and clean towels set out for you when you’re done. Prefer to sleep with pajamas? He has a drawer dedicated to your favorite things along with some new ones he bought for you.

Mammon

Ah yes, the tsundere. The dumbass in the streets, dumbass in the sheets. The one who has more hair-brained ideas than he does fingers and toes in one week. One of the greatest banes of Lucifer’s existence.

His push and pull personality might have you questioning the validity of his feelings, but I believe that Mammon wouldn’t be partaking in fluffy sex at all unless he was absolutely smitten.

With how his brothers treat him, he’s reluctant to open his heart to you and fully accept that at some point, you won’t start insulting him either. However, equipped with the sin of greed, Mammon’s completely helpless when you compliment and reassure him. 

His standoffish attitude is a front, a feeble attempt to keep up his reputation as “The Great Mammon,” but he’s got himself wrapped around your finger before he even realizes it and that facade would melt away instantly at your smallest of smiles, a kiss on his cheek or back of his hand, a surprise compliment, anything that makes his heart skip a beat. 

Of the brothers, he has one of the weakest composers around you mainly because he’s also one of the horniest. 

Sex with Mammon can be rushed;  a quickie between classes, a broken composure that has him feeling dehydrated for you, a clash of tongues and teech and a burning desire that encompasses both of you until you find release.

However, the sweetest and fluffiest sex with Mammon would be when either of you are feeling emotionally vulnerable. 

He’ll treat you like you’re the greatest treasure to have ever existed in all three realms, with a delicacy as if you’re fragile because he knows he can be careless and reckless. He’ll be in his head a lot making sure he’s taking care of you, that you feel good, doing his damndest to keep you satisfied so there’s no room in your heart to doubt him. He’ll do whatever it takes to keep that sparkle in your eye when you look at him, to never lose you and never have to experience the day you realize his brothers have been right all along. 

And I mean he’ll do whatever and however. Any wish is his command, but you’ll have more work cut out for you if you suggest the both of you participating in a threesome or more. He wants you all to himself, it’s his greed, but it’s your reassurance and validation that will have him like putty in your hand. 

He’s more than okay with both of you falling asleep in your mess, but more often than not, he’ll wait until you’ve dozed off to clean up. In these moments, he takes the time to worship every inch of your skin, like polishing a priceless jewel. His intentions are pure, most of the time, he just likes to wait till you’re asleep so there’s no chance for you to tease him about it. It also allows his greed to soak up your peaceful expression, the way your body reaches out to him after he’s finished cleaning and comes back to curl up next to you. 

There’s a secret photo album hidden on his phone filled with pictures of the both of you like this, your lashes against your cheeks, your freckles or sun spots, any blemishes or scars that he’s covered in kisses countless of times, your hand in his and vice versa, memories of how sweet and tender your love is, filled with emotions he struggles to put into words. 

Leviathan

It all depends how you play your cards with this one. Teasing him is easy and it’ll get him all flustered, but pair that with his raging horniness and you’ll be walking a fine line between a Dom or sub Levi.

However, if it’s fluffy and sweet sex you want, treat him gently and he’ll return the favor. It’ll take a bit of time and effort to get here, on both your parts, but if you’re willing to put in the work, he’ll make it worth it. Like Mammon, this means sex will be its fluffiest when either both of you or one of you is emotionally vulnerable.

We’ve recently been blessed by the devs on a cannon description of his tail, confirming that it is snake-like with scales. This also means, however, that his tail is sensitive to touch and he has full control of its movements. During a more sweet intimacy, he likes to wrap his tail around a limb, your arm or your leg. It’s only when he’s in Dom or sub mode that he likes to use his tail in a more active manner.

It’s important for him, whether he realizes it or not, that during these moments, that he’s the one touching you, not his tail. If you ask him to use his tail too much during sex, he’ll start to think that you’re only with him because of his tail.

He’ll want to see you even though his room is dimly lit. He also knows his tub bed might not be the most comfortable so he’ll invest in a mattress to put on the floor by the tank, and a few fluffy blankets, from the Ruri-chan line of course, to keep you warm and comfortable so you’ll never want to leave his room, just like him.

He prefers any position that has the two of you lying together, with your face in clear view because he can’t get enough of the faces you make because of the pleasure he’s responsible for making you feel. He’ll be more focused on your voice, your body language, your reactions to reassure him he’s doing something right.

To see your naked skin kissed with the reflection of the water from the tank is his favorite part. He actually got a nosebleed the first time he saw you like that. 

Sex with the otaku is a learning experience that requires patience and repetitive reassurance. He’s certain that no one could ever love him, and it’s going to cost a lot of mental energy, and it can be disheartening at times where it seems he’s not made any progress in loving himself at all, but you’ll both also have an opportunity to create something truly beautiful between the two of you. Falling in love with your best friend, and having your feelings returned with all their heart is one of the most beautiful things to ever experience.

Satan

I like to imagine that Satan is akin to that tiger DILF in Zootopia looking at his tablet while on the train, you know, the one who looks like he’ll take good care of you? Listen, during one of his Devilgram stories, the man pitches a tent (like an actual tent, not a boner you guys) and makes both of you cups of hot chocolate. You can pry this hc out of my cold, dead hands.

Sex with Satan is actually more often fluffy and sweet than anyone would assume because he’s the Avatar of Wrath. Just like all the other brothers, Satan is more than his sin. That being said, Satan is still CEO of Angry Sex™ but he’s also more intune to his own feelings than the rest of his brothers. 

It’s after his more violent fits of rage that he’s seeking your comfort. It’s difficult for him to come down from his wrath; the worse the fit is, the more broken and twisted he feels. He didn’t like coming to you at first because he knows how mentally draining it can be for a human to deal with someone like that, but you’ve insisted in your endearing and stubborn way that he can and needs to rely on you more. You threatened to find all the sources proving your point for the success of any relationship and he eventually gave in, accepting your kindness and your love.

In turn, he provides you with an arsenal of reading material and spells you can arm yourself with for a plethora of reasons; mainly self-defense against demons, a history of successful and failed attempts to prank Lucifer, as well as guides for subjects in class to help you study.

Unlike his previous brothers, sex with Satan is more about the pleasure you both feel. Of course he’ll still be mindful of your pleasure, but he can also get lost in his own desire. No matter how far gone he is, you know that the moment you utter the safeword, he’ll stop immediately and assess the situation. The safeword is actually a simple spell that he’d found when you two started getting more intimate.

On days he’s feeling extra playful, he’ll dress up for you; a collar with a bell, cat ears, a butt plug with a tail attached. He loves to be your little kitty cat, and will practically foam at the mouth if you ever dressed up like a slutty cat for him, but this doesn’t lead to fluffy smut times.

While he has no issues with PDA, Satan reserves his more soft and fluffy side for when you two are totally alone. He’s proactive in looking up cute date ideas and is the type to go all out turning his bed or his floor into a nest of pillows and blankets, cups of tea, hot chocolate, coffee, whatever you prefer, a variety of little snacks, and turn his wall into a projection screen to watch old-fashioned black and white romance movies. 

For Satan, it’s the moments leading up to the sweet intimacy filled with love and adoration that are his favorites. Being the reason your face brightens, tears of happiness well in the corner of your eyes, the way your smile makes his heart stutters, Satan loves showing you how much you mean to him mainly because he knows he’s not the best with words. He could recite any poem of strings of song lyrics, but he believes actions speak louder than words.

He actually prefers for you to have control in these moments; there’s less of a chance he could hurt you and it’s another way to prove his love. He’ll only ever bottom for you. He was reluctant at first, but it’s like you opened his eyes to a whole new world he didn’t know about. He still likes to act like he's a cat and you're his mouse, but he also likes it when you take over and make him bow to your whim. You've gained his trust as well as his heart and he believes that the power dynamic in a relationship should be balanced.

During the most intimate moments, either right after sex or waking up together in the morning after sleeping in, you'll both enter this Cat Speak mode. One of you will start, just a cute little "mrow?" and you'll go back and forth entertaining a semblance of a conversation but without saying anything. There's no actual conversation happening, it's just the two of you making cat noises at each other, giggling and riding the high of this special intimacy specially reserved for these moments of bliss.

Beel

Let’s be honest, 9 times out of 10 your sex with the sixth-born will be fluffy and sweet. He’s like the personified version of a golden retriever. He loves you and has the instinct to want to take care of you. You’re such a small, delicate human, and his brothers love you too so when you’re in Beel’s care, he makes sure you’re satisfied more than just sexually. 

Anything you’re willing to give him, he’ll accept wholeheartedly expressing his love and gratitude in the form of huge grins, hugs, a hearty chuckle, and peppering kisses across your face. 

Even though he’s not as sexually active as some of his brothers, once you get this big guy started, be prepared to cancel any plans you have for the rest of the day… and also the day after just to be safe. He has the most energy and will keep going until he’s had you against every solid surface in his room, minus Belphie’s furniture of course. Regardless of your size or how you look, he’ll make you feel weightless as he carries you around the room effortlessly

He loves the way you taste, gliding his tongue over your skin like you’re an ice-cream cone that never melts, he’s actually growled a number of times when you tried pulling yourself away from him. His eyes had turned shades darker than normal before you snapped him out of it. He would apologize profusely and kill the mood so as to make sure he’s in the right headspace and you’re okay. 

This has only happened a few times, but he still loves to taste every inch of you whenever he has you all to himself. He leaves you covered in hickeys and love bites and even though he’ll apologize, you know he feels absolutely no shame in his brother’s reactions to seeing you covered the next day. 

His favorite part is helping you ride out your orgasm with his mouth. He knows he’s more skilled with his mouth anyway and just, the man cannot get enough of you or your taste. Depending on where he’s at when you orgasm, if he’s close, he’ll paint your skin in his release, and then clean up the mess and drag you in for snuggles. If he’s not quite there yet, he’ll assess your energy levels and wait until you’re ready to go again or keep going, depending on who topped or bottomed. He’s all about consent and wants to join you when you’re fully blissed out regardless if he’s finished or not (meaning he’ll deny his own release in order to lie with you).

Aftercare comes almost second nature to him. He’s already carrying you to the bathroom and soaking you off in the shower before you realize it. The warm water and his large hands invade your senses and he urges you to let go, to let him take care of you and it’s like a dream. His calloused hands offer a sort of comforting roughness that keeps you grounded. If you want shower sex, you’ll have to initiate it.

Actually, that’s pretty accurate for Beel. You want sex? You’re either going to have to initiate it or tell him straight out. Poor guy does not take hints well as he is very oblivious.

[dreamrecorder]

Ok so- idk if you’ve seen demon slayer;; but there’s this episode (it was during the spider fambam arc) aNywaYs- so like. Rui yeets ties* (i guess-) Nezuko like. Up in the air. With his weird spider thread jazz— and like. It’s sHarP weird spider thread jazz— so she’s like. Yknow. Being sliced and diced with string— but it kindaaa reminds me of like. Xiao. And his like.... weird... sad.... uh. Karma. Thing. Like y’know where he’s like hanging from his arms- red stuff. Yeah. So like. Now for the actual request

Xiao’s s/o (female if you don’t mind;;) gets kidnapped by like— the fatui or smth. And they tie her up like Nezuko :D to be like “lol haha Xiao be all like-” and she’s just. Like. Dying. Slowly. Dripping b l o o d and yknow. All the tea. And Xiao comes to rescue her— and he’s like 0-0 “wait...” and he realizes that’s like- exactly what happens to him- and so. He beats the fatui’s butts saves his s/o, anddddd she like.

Idk. This is where I need your angst expertise ❤️ like- she could d i e. In his arms. And poor Xiao would be so scarred omg poor thing- BUT THE ANGST- but at the same time;;;; the f l u f f of him being able to save her just in time and she was like fighting for him the whole time or whatever and ended up needing him to save her anyways- and then Xiao feeding her almond tofu until she gets better ❤️❤️❤️

IM SORRY THAT WAS SO LONG- im probably going crazy from lack of sleep from reading fics for too long sndndnsnsj

But if you do this,,, BLESS YOUR SOUL I HOPE TO EITHER BALL MY EYES OUT OR SQUEAL FROM THE WHOLESOMENESS-

Anyways.... thank you! Have a stellar day~ ✨❤️

The heart yearns and the wind heard

lmao this ask is so adorable i hope you’d enjoy this ksks

anyway, full Angst train up ahead but there are moments of Fluff too. There are mentions of blood and violence if those are not your thing- dont worry guys, this goes with a happy ending cos you and Xiao deserve one~ on a final note- non canon compliant and suuuuuuper long- like- legit this is very long

The Yaksha sighs.

He’s here again. His mind and heart has returned his being into this crimson world his demons have created within him.

He feels it. He feels the corruption binding him tighter again for every death he brings by his tainted hands.

He looks at his bindings. And ever so slowly, the red and black coiling around his person will eventually reach his heart.

One day, he thinks, all this crimson and black in this world will swallow him whole and he will see the light no more.

Xiao sighs again.

This is his karmic debt.

~

The moment you stepped foot within Wangshu Inn, you knew he was in his prison again. After giving a quick greeting to the inn keeper, you hastily went to Xiao’s room. The closer you got, the heavier the atmosphere became.

You reached his door and knocked softly. As expected, no reply as he continues to struggle to take back his control over himself. Without hesitation, you stepped in. To anyone else, they would have instantly met his spear at their throats, but with you, this doesn’t happen. Instead, you see him crouched on the wooden floor with a hand on his chest. His knuckles were white and his breathing was ragged. His amber eyes- lost. Observing his form, yes… his moments of corruption are becoming progressively worse.

With swift steps of familiarity to this routine, you went to him and grasped his shoulders.

“Xiao, it’s me…” You whispered with clarity. And oh- how your voice brought a wave of comfort to his soul.

“N-name…” His voice cracked, but him calling to you is always a good sign.

You gave him a small smile and proceeded to grasp his hands together with yours. After which, you then leaned your forehead to his to chant your prayers. As your prayers progressed, slowly but surely, the corruption begins to fade along with the black mist that covered him. However, you took note how this ritual took longer than the last.

Once everything is done, Xiao just slumped onto your shoulders, still breathing deeply. “How are you feeling?” It was a useless question you asked every time this happens, but you always, always, have to make sure.

Usually, he would mutter a small ‘fine,’ but now- words seemed to have left his mind and all he could muster was an almost-unnoticeable shrug.

Truth be told- his response disheartened you, but you did not show it. Instead, you opted to simply encase him in your arms and caress his hair. After all, these are just one of the few, rare moments Xiao would leave himself into your care. Xiao is aware, himself, that his state has been becoming worse and worse. And you both know, that a day would come when he would just attack anyone- friend or foe- without a trace of hesitation. So, just this time- he speaks his feelings.

“Name?”

You answered immediately with a questioning hum.

“What would you do… when I finally lose control over myself?”

It was very subtle, but he felt how your hand stopped caressing his hair for a second, then proceeded to the previous task at hand again. In all honestly, you can never find yourself having an answer to that question. “And why would I ever let that happen to you?” You questioned back, fully aware that you were dodging his question.

Silence surrounded the two of you, unsure on what to do with the sudden heavier atmosphere.

Not wanting to face the cruelty of the world yet, Xiao simply buried himself on the crook of your neck even more. And despite the ghostly sensation of his lips on your skin, you could feel him mouth the words ‘I love you.’

“As long as I’m here,” you whispered, “nothing can hurt you.” And that was the most beautiful lie that the Yaksha has heard, but he was willing to believe all the same.

~

When word about Fatui diplomats starting a bank reached you, there was a nagging feeling in your head that trouble would bring itself present anytime soon. It was like an itch that wouldn’t get away. And the only way to have that itch gone is to scratch it.

“You are absolutely a fool.” Xiao stated darkly with crossed arms, for once disagreeing with the plans of his master.

“We can never know what their intentions are unless we let them start their bank, no?” Zhongli said as he gazed at the marsh spread beneath him.

The Yaksha only scoffed but said no more.

Building up your courage, you deemed it was your turn to voice out your thoughts, “Um… Rex Lapis, I see your point, but wouldn’t it be best to resolve the problem before it persists into something larger? We all know- All of Teyvat knows, that the Fatui are not to be trusted.”

Your archon offered you a kind smile, “I understand your worries, Name. However, as of the moment, they have not presented themselves as such. If they truly are our enemies, then it would be beneficial for us to know their intentions.”

You frowned deeply at his statement. Seeing you do so, somehow, your archon immediately identified your main concern.

“Is this about the Tianquan assigning you to be her representative for the Fatui?”

The moment those words left his mouth, a growl tore from Xiao’s throat, but he held his tongue.

“Did Ganyu tell you?”

The Archon nodded and you sighed.

“I volunteered, actually.”

And at that point, Xiao vanished into thin hair, but you could still his sense his presence around.

“May I know why?” Zhongli questioned gently.

For a moment, you struggled for words. You didn’t know how to describe this ‘itch’ to him. “At first, it was supposed to be Ganyu, since in the Tianquan’s eyes- Ganyu is an adeptus and she does not know that I am, too. Perhaps she didn’t want to put me in harm’s way, a ‘visionless human’ at the side of a harbinger. After some convincing to Ningguang for my volunteering, I spoke to Ganyu next.

“The adepti are divine beings that walk here in Liyue. I had this feeling that putting a divine next to a power-hungry harbinger would become an issue. I told Ganyu that, since I looked ‘harmless’ and ‘ordinary,’ the harbinger’s interest about the divine would never surface.”

A stretch of silence wrapped around them as Zhongli pondered over your words. “Perhaps, are you also planning to dig out the truth of their arrival?”

You nodded, “I knew you would allow them to stay, so I just took it upon myself to unfurl their secrets.”

“Hmmm… I grant you permission on doing this. However, should trouble arise, do not hesitate to tell us.”

~

The glare pointed at you was strong. Even without him saying a single word, you could hear his phantom voice in your head speak with such coldness, What are you thinking?

You simply gave him a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine, Xiao. I may be a human in mortal eyes, but please do remember that I am also an adeptus, no matter how weak I am.”

Xiao releases a huff, but still sits by your side at the floor of the balcony, letting the moon kiss his skin. “You’re not weak.” He mumbled as he snaked his hand to yours.

To him, you will never be weak. In fact, you were the strongest being he has ever laid his eyes on. Not physically, no. It was you mental and emotional fortitude. Back during the Archon War, he always admired how you kept your head held up high no matter the suffering you have experienced. No matter how much death surrounded you, you still fought. And that strength made you a survivor. During the war, you never failed to help the wounded. Even when someone dies under your care, you held strong for the departed and for those who are left behind. You were a pillar of hope.

He brings your hand to his lips and kisses every knuckle “… Just be careful. If ever you are in trouble do not-“

“Hesitate to call your name.” You finished, beaming at his words.

~

As someone who used to be a healer and a doctor, you were quite familiar with several mild skin diseases that mortals can suffer from.

If there is an itch, you do not scratch it- for you will only aggravate the area even more.

Now that you’re working alongside the Fatui as the Tianquan’s representative, the itch you kept feeling was only irritated more. Especially whenever you spoke with the Harbinger who goes by the name Childe. And since your work requires you to cooperate with him, you also don’t miss the chance to discover what he hides, should the opportunity presents itself.

Childe… his azure eyes certainly have their… charm to those unaware. However, you knew better. You know he’s capable of drowning you just by his eyes. While he may be a cheerful man, his eyes lack the lustre of joy. The eyes are the windows of the soul, yes? If so, all you see is an unending ocean that you do not want to swim in. The surface may be calm, but the deep is relentless. However, duty bound you are- deep within the ocean, you shall find the secrets the Fatui hides.

Again, another scratch to the itch, but it only irritates you more.

~ 

The news of Rex Lapis’s death became the catalyst of you confronting the Harbinger. From Yujeng Terrace all the way to Northland Bank, you ran (with Ningguang’s permission of course). Before you can even open the door to his office, something caught your eye.

It’s faint, but you’re an adeptus. You sensed elemental traces, just smack bang at the middle of the door. You carefully scrutinized the tracings, and fortunately you knew Snezhnayan script. And what you read only made your heart sink.

It’s ready.

With the adeptal arts, you managed to uncover the origins of these elemental tracings.

Scratch.

Without hesitation, you followed these tracings until it led you into some ruins.

Scratch.

Following the tracings further, you find yourself in a dimly lit room. Wary, you summoned your weapon imbued with your element.

Scratch.

Searching the room, you came across several antique boxes. You opened them.

Scratch.

What you saw were familiar. Too familiar. Dimming the room more with your element, you find more Sigils of Permission hanging on the walls and on the ceilings. The energy within them were faint, but with enough numbers, it’s enough to kill a-

“Well, well well, I thought you’d be there mourning for your Archon. But here you are, snooping around someone else’s research material.”

The sound of his voice made you sharply turn your head to him, your stance now more offensive. “What are you planning?” You bit coldly.

The Harbinger hummed a small tune, “Nothing much… But! If you’re really curious, I guess I could tell you.” He hummed some more but you knew he’s not finished. Once he finished his tune, he grinned to you menacingly and the depths in his eyes became even deeper and darker, “After all, I won’t let you leave this place with you knowing my secret~”

~

There was this one time, Xiao struggled against himself so much, he scratched himself red so that he could anchor himself back to the real world. You remembered how much you cried as he slept in your arms. You never wanted to see him do that again. Seeing him hurt himself also hurt you, too. It was like a stab in the heart, then a twist, and twist some more. A slap in the reality that you might lose him one day.

As he slept, you solemnly observed the wounds he sustained himself to. They were angry red, just like blood.

Now, you, yourself scratched that itch in your head too much into a wound for blood to seep through. You scratched too much and now you have to bleed from it.

~

You were slipping in and out of consciousness. Sleep was tempting you more and more but you know you have to wake up. You were aware that this is going on for days.

Everything hurts. You remembered how his blades, imbued with the Sigils, weakened you thoroughly. Every slash he brought to your body just drained the energy away from you. But still you had to do something.

He wanted an adeptus- he wanted an adeptus in order for the Sigils to grow stronger both in number and in power.

Now here you are, bound by chains and suspended at the middle of this empty room. These chains were adorned by talismans that drained away your energy. You were bleeding from your wounds of your previous battle.

Drip. Drip. Drip goes the blood and pools on the ground underneath you. The ground, you barely noticed, was lined by Liyuean script which enacts the ritual of the Sigils draining your divine power from your blood.

To the eyes of a sadist- you were a picture perfect in a canvas. A dark room lined by the damned Sigils, glowing an eerie gold. Then there's you with your bloodied clothes and chains. The red pool underneath was casting a red glow on your way, giving you a red shade to your pale skin.

Everything hurts-

And everything was driving you mad.

You can also feel the Overlord of the Vortex feed from your energy through the Sigils. You sensed his lust for power and revenge. You felt his anger and the corruption within him. You felt his hatred and his want to bring death. For days that felt like years, you’ve been battling against that very same god in your head. This battle was not something you shall not lose to and failure is not an option. If you fail here, then Liyue will fall. 

This god- he was driving you mad slowly.

If ever you are in trouble, do not hesitate to call my-

You shut the thought from your head. You are not going to call him. You will not speak of him. You will not think of him. You will not call him. Not to this place where his corruption will grow. No. You Will Not Call Him.

If it means that me not calling you will keep you safe from the corrupted remnant of a god- so be it. 

Please

However, no matter how much you denied yourself to call his name, no matter how much your heart yearns to be with him- the wind does not ignore the pained sob that left your lips.

~

Ever since the news of Rex Lapis's death and the visit of the Traveler with a Sigil in his hand- the corruption within him just bloomed into something feral.

The Sigil- there was something wrong about it but Xiao doesn't know what is it that is wrong. Then there's you- where are you? Surely with the news of their Archon's death- it would send you to bring forth a meeting for the adepti to talk this over. But now- for days- you remain not by his side.

With you missing- the demons inside him are slowly taking control over him, taking advantage of his vulnerability for you. For each passing day, it was slow torture for him- The worry bubbling in him was consuming him. He glared at the Sigil between his fingers and not failing to notice how his dark aura covers him once more. 

“Traveler,” Xiao called sharply, “What is it you intend to do next?” 

To any mere mortal, the look his eyes held were enough to strike fear, but the Traveler stealed themselves- meeting the adeptus’s gaze with an equally serious calm. “I have my suspicions on a certain harbinger and I-”

“Where?” The Yaksha growled.

“In the Golden House.”

Without a word nor warning, Xiao placed a hand on the Traveler’s shoulder and teleported them to the place where the Exuvia is hidden.

To the Traveler, everything happened so quickly as one event led to another. One moment, they were standing among unconscious bodies of the Millelith then the next thing they knew a corrupted and demonic gust of wind flew them away to the side. Regaining back their vision, they could see Alatus’s spear now at Tartaglia’s barrier made of Sigils. 

Alatus narrowed his eyes at the floating talismans and began to calculate the flow of this incoming battle with precision and accuracy despite his losing control over himself. 

It was a tense minute of sizing each other up, but eventually, Tartaglia has broken the silence with his annoying innocent voice. 

“Who would have thought that I’d have the honor of fighting another adeptus of Liyue?” 

The question immediately fed the corruption within him, the dark aura exploding at it. He knew that he should not believe in the Harbinger’s words so easily, but the glint in the latter’s eyes held truth. You could be out there, hurting, scared, alone. You could be out there, bleeding out. You could be out there dyi-

His aura exploded once more at the thoughts spreading in his being. With a burst of unspeakable power, Alatus lifted his weapon and pierced the barrier once more, this time breaking it without failure. At the threat, Tartaglia backed away as he donned his mask.

In a similar fashion, Alatus, too donned his mask. “I will ask you once,” the Conqueror of Demons spoke with a deathly calm, “Where is she?”

~

He should have killed him then and there. But the call of the Overlord of the Vortex must not be ignored as it threatens Liyue. 

In the small opportunity of escape, Childe took it. But he was weak and injured as Alatus swiftly threw his spear to block his way and teleported right in front of him. In a show of power, the Conqueror of Demons lifted the mortal by the neck.

“I will ask you again, where is she?”

In fear, Childe told him everything and at his every word, Xiao listened carefully- never speaking once. But the anger within his heart, it boils- it rages. His amber eyes bored into Childe’s soul- thinking what he should do to this mortal. Oh how killing him would be so nice. However, when the Yaksha’s gaze landed on the regal form of the Exuvia, he merely threw the mortal in its way.

“Killing you would have been easier. However, the crimes you have presented against Liyue are not mine for me to judge.

I leave the Harbinger to you... Rex Lapis.”

Once out of the Golden House, the Overlord roared once more, shaking the lands of the nation. However, along with it, he heard the faintest of voices. I’m so sorry... I couldn’t hold him back anymore. 

Only then did the demons in his heart freely took control of him. Just like the stories of old, where the Yaksha walks, death follows. But they were no stories. In his way towards the ruins where you were held captive, every step he took brought carnage and even more death and blood to taint his hands. No Fatui will leave this place alive. The very being of destruction ended many lives. Each death, the demons were growing stronger.

All he wanted now was to kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill killkillkill killkill kill killkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkillkill

Then seeing you suspended in the ceiling and bound by chains. Blood was painted on your lifeless skin. Wounds were littered and bruises were blooming on your form. But most of all, your eyes. What were once full of life and hope- now empty and blank. His demons quieted down.

Broken. You were like a broken porcelain doll.

“N-name...” His voice cracked, not believing it all.

With haste, he quickly broke your binds and caught you in his arms. he was fast to check for your pulse and your breathing. And thank the Archons, you were breathing but barely. You were now walking the line between life and death. With all his might yet a gentle caress, he hugged you for dear life. “Name... It’s me...”

But still, your eyes still held no recognition and it shattered his heart to pieces. With further inspection, he sensed the presence within you. A corruption. A certain evil. 

“Name, stay with me please,” Xiao begged with desperation as he fought back tears. “It’s me who supposed to be the corrupted one between us, not you... I’m not allowing you to leave me, you hear me-”

With a ritual of the adeptal arts, he started purging and purifying the evil left by the god who fed from you. He is not letting you stay alone in your prison, not for a second longer. 

Xiao prays and he never prayed before. Even to his master. But just this once, He prays with desperation. You are the light in his darkness. You are the moon in his night. 

The ritual was a delicate process. For every word he spoke, he was rewarded by your screams of pain and the writhing of your fragile body. He wanted to stop, but he can’t. He had to physically restrain you from trying to escape from his embrace and from hurting yourself. And for every cry you released, Xiao merely shuts his eyes clos just for him not to see your pained eyes. Every now and then, Xiao speaks gentle apologies and words of encouragement for you. You were coming back. But still, the evil persists.

You writhed and scratched against him, until you were creating more wounds for blood to seep through. When it came to a point, you began pleading and begging for him to stop, that was when Xiao had shed a tear. So he continues the ritual, his prayers, and his apologies. They were arriving to a point where the ritual is reaching its conclusion but your screams only grew louder.

Please, just a little more...

Please, just stop...

Please...

The corruption disintegrated away from you in a forceful release of dark energy. He was breathing deeply, attempting to calm his loud heart. When he placed his gaze on you, you were breathing rapidly and your eyes were searching blindly and your hands were desperately holding onto him.

“X-Xiao...” You whispered, “Where am I? Where are you?”

With a sigh of relief, the Yaksha hugged you again closer and his forehead to yours, fearing you would go away again. The action made you lift your hands to his face, still searching blindly.

“I’m here, Name... I’m here.” At his voice, the dam in your eyes broke as you cried silently. Xiao was not adept in emotions, but for you, he will face them gladly. He lets you cry as he gives you soft whispers of assurance, safety, love, and promises. However, you were not crying because of what had happened to you. You were crying for him. After experiencing such corruption-

You sobbed some more- you were this close to him losing you and you could not bring yourself to imagine if your roles were reversed.

“P-please,” you said with a broken voice, “please don’t go to the place where I can’t follow...’

The words, at first puzzled him, but after a few moments, he realized and once more it broke his heart. Bringing you closer, Xiao let loose the tears he was holding back. With a gentleness unexpected of the Conqueror, he simply littered your face with kisses. “I promise if only you would do the same.”

With your smile that he loved dearly for so long you too spoke your promise, “I do.” They were simply two words, but the comfort they bring into the Yaksha’s heart was in volumes.

After that, you shared a few tender moments in each other’s arms. Simply relishing the feeling of their familiar warmth. A little later, Xiao spoke, “Would you like to eat some Almond Tofu once we get home?”

The question made you giggle at his innocence, so you agreed. Despite you needing physical medical attention. But Almond Tofu with him? Yes, you two definitely need some emotional healing.

A/N: fINALLY dONE lmao this was supposed to be short but angst really makes me want to write longer everytime haha~ anyway this request really made me ponder bout genshin stuff with all the corruption this and corruption that but then a question popped up like-

how did childe replicate the sigil of permission? since sigils are imbued with divine energy, i just thought how did this guy accumulate so much sigils to the point of freeing Osial- a god!!! soooo i just played with the idea for a bit then figured out maybe these pieces of paper get the divine energy from a divine source right? and the adepti are divine beings of liyue and another thing- you guys might have noticed the change of names in some scenes- i dont know but i think somehow different names represents different side of a person like- we have childe the cheerful harbinger then tartaglia the power hungry harbinger- there’s Alatus who’s calculating and cold, there’s the Conqueror of Demons who’s ruthless and unforgiving, then Xiao who is calm and humane- lastlyyyyy i might post this in ao3 ksks

[covenofwives]

Llama :)

So few people are aware, last month @fluffallamaful hit me with an appreciation post that went straight for my heart in celebration of our one year being friends. I had planned one similarly but dang drawing tablet was breaking on me and I've just managed to finish this now :D

I won't be as well planned/prepared as Llama was (because she's a wiz at keeping receipts) but I hope this post can lift her mood and make her smile like she makes me.

First off it baffles me we've kept talking. Like for a whole year we spoke near every day. I've never clicked with someone so well and shared so many interests with someone. Sometimes it floors me when Llama thanks me for speaking to her because it should be me thanking her. Someone as creative and kind as Llama taking time out of her busy day to send me hellos, share her thoughts with me and let me bounce ideas off her it's just...it's been an absolute joy.

And she admits that she was a simp for me? ME??? Llama and her wonderfully soft and brilliant blog was one of the reasons I made my own and posted up my first story! She'd have no-one to simp over if it wasn't for her! I said this a while ago but round about when I was lurking on the community I lost a volunteer position I was proud of due to medical stuff and on the day I was let go it was Llama's fics I read to cheer me up.

I can't count how many times I've just been in what felt like a pit, sinking down, and Llama lifted me up whether she knows it or not. Her joy is infectious and sweet. So many times my days have started out terrible, but even just speaking a few words with Llama lifted my mood instantly. She's been with me through panic attacks, nightmares, a heartbreak and constantly supported me when I was having terrible work troubles.

Llama's the one I instantly run to whenever I have a new thought or idea because I love her reactions (especially to the art) but she's also a fantastic person to bounce ideas off of. There's a reason so many of my fics are in dedication or credit to her and that's because she's so bloody brilliant that she just makes things better.

And I don't need to keep giving praises to Llama's talent because this community has seen it well enough. The ideas she comes out with are perfection. Her fics give wonderful butterflies. She's always ALWAYS engaging in the community, lifting people up and encouraging people, especially anons and new comers, to write and engage in the community because it's something she's truly passionate about. And seeing that passion is just so damn INSPIRING.

Llama is a blessing to this community and I am beyond blessed to have her in my life. I know for a fact I would have probably stopped writing and just faded from the community a while ago but Llama's passion lit a fire. She just encourages creativity in people, no matter how small, and has been so supportive through all my ideas and random thoughts.

So yeah, this is gushy and I'm bad with public affections but I wanted Llama to know the full extent of how much she means to me. I know we joke about it but sometimes it honestly feels like we're linked and I truly believe we were just faded to meet and be friends.

I love you Llama and I can't wait to share more wonderful ideas with you and see the wonderful things you're going to create.

[shadow-whisperer152]

Father’s Day (Chapter 6)

(I’ve totally forgotten to update this fic on Tumblr as well as AO3 so here we are!)

(Chapter 5)

And so it became a routine. After that first day, Virgil began to make scheduled trips up to the Light Side. He would rattle things up, get his two bits into whatever conflict they were attempting to solve that day, then hurry back down to the Dark Side to tell his family all about it. They would sit around the dinner table, just the three of them, and listen to his stories of the day. They would laugh and mock the Light Sides’ behavior, their reactions to Virgil’s input, and how pathetic they seemed in the grand scheme of things. Virgil had never felt happier as he did seeing the smiling, proud faces of his father and brother figures as he recounted his adventures. He finally felt like he was contributing to their growth, to Thomas’ growth. He wasn’t just sitting in the sidelines anymore; now he was a fully-fledged part of Thomas’ conscious mind, and he would continue to work hard to protect their host. After dinner they would all pile onto the couch and watch a movie, or play a game on the coffee table. This was the most important part of the day. Even though Virgil was doing well, they still had to keep in mind the true nature of the Light Sides, and every evening that Virgil returned home to them was a blessing. Janus never once stopped repeating it, reminding them all of how lucky they truly were to be together every night, and the others took it very seriously as well. After all they had been through, nights where they could spend time as a family seemed like a fragile web, just waiting for the rain to inevitably come and sweep it all away. 

They never could have guessed in a million years that said rain would come from their very own stormcloud. 

Virgil would like to say that he was unchanged. That the trips up to the Light Side hadn’t had any effect on him, and that he would forever remain the same side he had always been. He’d like to believe that his cold, firm demeanor was as sturdy as his relationship with his family, and that being in a place so different from his home had not softened him in the slightest. These were all things Virgil wished he could assert to himself and continue to demonstrate to the other Dark Sides. 

Except.

Except that wouldn’t be exactly true. He was still Virgil, don’t get him wrong. It was just…..well, it was very different up there. At first he’d felt the lights were too bright and the heat was drowning him and the smells were overwhelming and the voices too loud. Yet the more he went up there, to that false paradise the Light Sides had created, the more his perspective began to change. Virgil wished he could say when it happened, or how it happened (more specifically how he could allow something like this to happen), but those answers continued to escape him. Because one day he realized that the Light Side wasn’t too bright, it was the Dark Side that was too dark. It wasn’t so hot it was melting his skin, but rather his home was so cold it made him feel numb. The smells weren’t attacking him, but rather their air seemed too empty. And the voices? They weren’t too loud; instead, every time he returned to his family, it felt as though the silence was deafening him. It got to a point where he couldn’t deny it, no matter how hard he tried: Virgil didn’t want to be a Dark Side anymore, not if it meant he had to come back to this pit for the rest of his life. 

Of course, he could never say any of this to Remus or Janus. Just the thought of their faces if he ever admitted this stuff to them was enough to put him on the verge of a panic attack. But he couldn’t help spending a little more time with the Light Sides. Just a few more minutes after they’d finished with the day’s discussions. But after the whole “ducking out incident” (during which neither Remus nor Janus had been able to coax him out of his room) those minutes turned to hours, and those hours piled up, and soon enough he was spending every waking moment up there. He’d get up, get ready for the day, and with barely a wave and a “good morning” to his family he’d leave for the Light Side. There he’d have breakfast and spend the rest of the day with them, be it solving Thomas’s dilemmas or just chilling out. In the evenings he’d have dinner and quietly slink back down to the Dark Side, avoiding Remus and Janus as he slipped into his room to sleep. He knew that sooner or later they would start asking questions, but he couldn’t help it. Virgil would talk to the others about it…..soon. A few more days wouldn’t hurt.

Janus was worried. No, scratch that. Janus was scared. He’d never admit it to his family, but every night he was finding it harder and harder to fall asleep. He’d spend hours tossing and turning in bed, hoping that the dark thoughts swirling through his head wouldn’t alert Remus, or that his anxiety wouldn’t unsettle Virgil. As much as he wrestled with the truth, he couldn’t lie his way out of this one: Janus was losing Virgil. Simple as that. Virgil may think he was being convincing in saying that all his frequent and long trips to the Light Side were merely for “gathering information”, but Janus was a master of lies. Not only could he taste a lie a mile away, but he’d raised Virgil from his manifestation. He knew everything about him, from his wants and his fears to his tells and his habits. Watching Virgil these last few weeks had only confirmed his suspicions. Virgil was happier. Happier than he’d ever seen him. He seemed to glow with a new energy, an energy which was snuffed out when he thought he was being watched by his family. He’d run off every day, staying longer and longer, spending time with them less and less. Janus had done everything to warn his sons of the cruelty he’d experienced, and now his greatest fear had come true: his son had fallen victim to their manipulations, blinded by bright lights and glittery smiles. Janus didn’t want to ruin his son’s happiness, but what choice did he have? Sooner or later the Light Sides would show their true, primal natures, just as they’d done with him, and his little spiderling would be caught in the crossfire. It was time Janus did something about it, before it was too late. 

When Virgil arrived back at the Dark Side after another day solving Thomas’ issues, he wasn’t expecting to see Janus sitting in his armchair. The lamp was on, and even though it was fairly late he was still dressed in his daily attire. Janus put his book on the side table when he popped in. 

“Good evening Virgil. How was your day?” He asked casually, ironing out his pant leg with his hand in an almost dismissive manner. Virgil’s eyes narrowed a little; Janus hated staying up late, and clearly he’d been here waiting for some time. 

“It was fine.” He shrugged. “Pat- I mean, Morality did his usual cry baby routine. Took a while to get under control.” Technically this wasn’t a lie. Patton had cried, but only because they’d seen a kitten on the street and Logan hadn’t let him bring it home. Janus, however, didn’t seem convinced.

“Very well. I know it’s quite late, but I was wondering if I could have a talk with you. It’s rather important, but I will be brief.” He gestured to the couch. “Sit.” 

Virgil did as he was told, his nerves beginning to start up. He was used to his father-figure’s ‘talks’ by now, but this one seemed different. Janus actually seemed nervous too, with the way he fiddled with the tips of his gloves as he watched him take a seat. Virgil was always at least a little on edge, but Janus? He was basically the King of Collected. Seeing him falter, even a tiny bit, was a red flag that Virgil had not been expecting tonight. “So, what’s up?” He tried to ask nonchalantly, hands slipping into his sleeves. 

“I know I’m not known for my honesty.” Janus began. “But trust that I’m being true with you when I say that…..I’m worried about you, Virge.”

Virgil tried not to look too shocked, but didn’t feel like he was being effective. Janus…..was worried about him? And by the looks of it this was real, true worry. How had Virgil not felt it before, the anxiety buzzing beneath his caretaker’s skin? It was obvious now that he was looking for it. When had he stopped looking? When had he stopped paying attention? 

Janus cleared his throat after a beat of silence. “I’m worried because I’ve noticed that you’re spending an awful lot of time up there, with the……others.” He raised a hand when Virgil tried to deny it. “Now, now. I may be half-blind, but I can still read the clock. You spend so much time up there, and barely even talk to us down here. I’m afraid that they’re getting to you.” 

Virgil had been trying to recover from this very out-of-character display of sincerity, but that last bit had brought him back to the present. “Getting to me? What does that even mean?” 

“Those Sides are masters of manipulation, Virgil. They mould you with feelings, logic, and fantasies until you can’t tell the difference between what part of your thoughts are yours and what part is really them. I fear that they’re getting into your head, especially with all the exposure you have with them every day.” He leaned forward some. “Am I right in my fears?”

Virgil shook his head some. “Wait wait wait. You think they’re manipulating me?” His eyes were wide. After everything that they’d been through, he didn’t trust him enough to know if he was being controlled? He’d wished that this point would cause him more outrage, but it was overshadowed by another thought: You’re wrong. They’re not like that! They would never manipulate me, they care about me!

There was silence, and when Virgil looked up he wasn’t expecting the look of surprise and worry on Janus’ face. “Do you really mean that, Virgil?” The purple side gulped. Shit, he’d said that out loud!?

“Y-Yes.” He managed. “I do. They’re different now, Jan. Even if they were like that at some point, they are certainly not like that with me. Trust me, we don’t have to be afraid of them anymore!”

“Oh, Virgil. I thought you were smarter than this.” Janus sighed, his brow furrowing. “They’ve corrupted your mind, my spiderling. The only solution that I can think of is for you to stop going up there.” 

Virgil frowned, beginning to get angry. “I’m not a kid anymore Dad! I’m an adult, just like you, just like everyone else! Stop treating me like I’m stupid! I’m not being manipulated, don’t you think I’d be able to tell? They are kind and caring and generous, and all these stories you’ve been feeding us are wrong!” He paused, eyes widening. “Have….have you been lying to us all this time? To keep us here?”

Janus shook his head. “Of course not! That’s preposterous!” He exclaimed. “I would never lie to you like that.”

“Yes, you have! You told me they’d hate me, but they only hated me because I was the one who was being antagonistic! You once said that I’m our greatest weapon. Have you been keeping me here as a fucking tool to use whenever you want?!” Virgil began to spiral, negative thoughts swirling through his head as a dark cloud manifested above them. “The others were right! You’re just a lying snake!”

Janus gasped, eyes wide. “Virgil, how dare you! I haven’t lied to you! Those Sides are monsters! Beasts! They will take advantage of you, just like they did to me! We’re different from them, and they’ll hurt you for it!” 

“No they won’t! You know why?! Because I’m not a freak like you!” He stood up. “I won’t let you keep making me feel like I’m different, like I’m a monster! Like I’d never be wanted! The only monster here is you!” Virgil ran off to his room, slamming his door shut. 

Janus sat alone, feeling his heart break into pieces. It seemed that even his own son couldn’t see past his function, past his face. After all these years, maybe he had exaggerated his experience with the Sides, but only a little. His fear of them was real, and now his fear was only growing at the thought of losing his son to them. Janus sighed, sinking out and rising in his bedroom. He’d talk to Virgil in the morning, when he’d calmed down. Right now he was too worked up to be reasoned with. (He didn’t want to admit that if he saw his son again tonight, with that expression of loathing and betrayal, he’d discorporate.) Janus took off his clothes and curled into bed, but not before readjusting the blanket over his mirror. He couldn’t bear to see his face, not tonight. With a soft hiccup and a suppressed whine, Janus closed his eyes to sleep. 

He awoke to Remus banging on his door. “Jannie! You better get your snittes out here and see this!” Janus groaned, getting up and throwing on his robe before stepping outside. He knew something was terribly wrong when he saw tears in Remus’ eyes. 

“Rem? What happened?” He asked, cupping his face. Remus shook him off, dragging him down the hall and pointing. Janus focused on where he was gesturing, feeling his heart drop into the pits of the Subconscious. 

Virgil’s door was gone.

(Here we go! Chapter 6 finished! Hope you enjoyed it.)

[feysandfeels]

I gathered you read the chapter... how are we feeling, any thoughts you might want to share?

There I was, writing on my journal after a decent day at work when this fucking bomb exploded quite literally on my lap. But fear not I am here and we shall discuss until we can make fucking sense of it.  Should I even warn you of the length of this post, or are we all on the same “Luisa can’t synthesise for shit” boat now?

I. Azriel

I will start by saying that this does not make me hate Azriel or stop caring for him and wanting what’s best for him. I still do very much love him. This however does not mean I applaud or get behind how he expressed himself during this specially chapter. For me it was quite disturbing to see how he saw Elain merely as a sexual partner and thought that that translated into love. If he had made the distinction between being physically attracted to her and being in love with her, then I don’t think we would all be feeling like we are. Because it is fair to be sexually attracted to someone but not necessarily in love with them.

From what we saw I think we can gather that Azriel knows Mor is not into him and in his grief from all those years being in love he wants something immediate and there. On top of that he sees his brothers settled and feels like he is owed from the cauldron, so of course he starts seeing Elain as the perfect “solution” to his pain. Now, of course Elain (and no one for that matter) should be seen a solution to anything really. Much less he should jump on that boat and already think of her as his. Az, my sweet, possessiveness is not love. 

When I first read the chapter something stood out for me, he said he’s envious of his brothers and the emotional stability they both have, the fact that they were both chosen by the ones they love. We know Az loved Mor with all his heart and although she loves him too, it was not corresponded on the same energy since she is well bisexual homoromantic. He, so far, does not feel chosen in that same sense, which only feeds his insecurity of being unworthy.

In his envy he oversimplified things, he saw what both Rhys and Cassian now have and did the simple most stupid math ever: he went Rhys+Feyre = love, Cass+Nesta = love... hummm then If I’m single and Elain is single then it must mean Az+ Elain = love. (Sugar I love you but that is dumb as fuck). This has the same energy of when you are in high school and you let your friends convince you that you are actually into someone when you are really not, but then you buy into it and start believing in it yourself. In this case he was the one who created that push and convinced himself that it was the right thing.

I think so far we can gather a few things of the place Az is at right now: he is feeling extremely lonely, extremely envious and extremely sad. I do not think this excuses his behavior at fucking all, but at least we know where he is coming from. He is clearly mistaking sexual attraction and possessiveness as love. But I do think it all stems from this turbulent place he is at emotionally, not because he is a bad person. 

I do not thing he is a bad person for thinking of Elain as he does, because I truly think this is a set up for the growth he will experience. Is it a good look? honey no. But is it a realistic one? I dare say it is. As I said when I read this I got full on high school bull shit vibes, I thought “ohh I’ve seen this film before and I have lived it”. He is being immature and there is no denying. Which was only confirmed with him regifting that necklace... sugar... that was a dick move, very fucking dickish move -specially since it was alluded that they might have feelings for each other–. My man needs to do some emotional growth because yikes. 

II. The Narrative

Now, I have said before that for me, Sarah’s strength lies not so much on her world building or the originality of her works (which is not to say that her worlds suck or her narratives are not interesting and offer something new), but it lies more on her characters. To me she has always excelled at creating characters that do exemplify the range of humanity in its good, its bad, and all that’s in between. Even you can look at stuff that your fave did and go “yeah not cool at fucking all”. At least I know I can and I adore almost every character in this series. I love characters not because they are perfect but because I can either relate to them or because they allow me to understand and experience points of view that are alien to my own experience. Sarah has never made characters black and white. Your faves will make mistakes. Feyre has, Rhysand has, Cassian has, Nesta has, Elain has, Lucien has, Mor has and Az has. 

What make her books interesting from this perspective is that she says “characters development does not equal character growth”. Take Chaol for example –if you haven’t read ToG do yourself a favor and read it– his character arc is one of the most interesting and best fulfilled ones in that series because we saw him at his lowest, when we couldn’t empathize exactly and he was being an ass, and then we saw him question his problematic behavior and move past it. Character development means just that: that the character move from point a to point b. It doesn’t mean he will be better by the end, but it means movement. Character growth does mean he will hopefully get  to a place where they are “good”.

I think she knows exactly what she is doing with Az and with this teaser. Need I remind you of the chaos the bonus chapter in ACOFAS left this fandom in for a solid two years. This got our emotions high and got us one way or another expecting to see where this will all lead. I don’t think any of us were expecting this chapter when it was announced that Az would get a pov. 

III. Conclusion

To conclude I just want to reiterate that I don’t support how he’s is behaving. I think I am accepting how he is behaving. Acceptance however does not meant that I am behind it, it means that I accept it and I am willing to stick around to see him grow out of this and realize why this is all so wrong (because well you know I can’t actively engage with him since he is... you know... fictional). I have had moments like this with some of my closest friends irl with whom we’ve had talks about previous behavior and have had the “be fucking better” talk, which is something that Rhys essentially said (GOD BLESS YOU BOO), and is also a sentiment most of us shared, even Feyre, when Rhys forced Mor to face both of her abusers and then didn’t consult her when selling Velaris off to her dad. And to me that is part of what friendship means, it means being there through the growth.  

Everyone has their own limits of what they can understand of a character/person. If this is your own then it’s fine, no harm no foul. If this is what makes you jump ship from Elriel (that’s their ship name right?) then hey all good, I’m sorry for your loss.  

I am not an Azriel hater, nor I think I will ever be. At least not from the information I have right now. I do still love him and as I have said before I want to see him happy and with a healthy amount of self confidence (and no Azriel saying you could easily kill Lucien is not the healthy self confidence I am talking about). So if anything I am interested in the arc his character will face, we just caught him at a moral low –which to me still has a solid chance of growth–.

I hope this offer some light or whatever. And remember take it easy, it’s okay to feel things deeply but don’t quit in the middle of the war, we still have his book coming up and I am 100% that will enlighten us more. 

ANYWAYS, LONG LIVE ELUCIEN BITCHES.