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tinkrtailrsldrspy · 21 days ago

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How Does This Even Happen?! - Part 4

Ugh, fine, here! Don't expect an update for a while, though, the next part isn't written yet.

I actually really enjoyed writing this particular section. I also made up a bunch of shit cause, well... technically it could be canon! You never know!

There was a certain discomfort with his reality that left Ford on edge these days. Yes, he’d made up with Bill. Yes, Bill had undone all the physical damage Ford had sustained. Yes, he was safe and protected by some of the most powerful and dangerous beings in the multiverse. Yes, he now had limited access to Bill’s powers!

But he was carrying a child inside himself. Not just that, but he was carrying a child that was half Euclidean - a species that had been eradicated nearly one trillion years ago. Well, aside from his Muse. But seeing as how Bill had only been sixteen when the massacre had happened, he had only a basic grasp on his own species’ biological and reproductive functions. And with Ford having a three-dimensional form, even that limited knowledge could very likely be useless!

So, he became quite used to the ball of anxiety that constantly swirled in his gut, treating it as just another of the paranoid fears he’d developed thanks to Bill.

(They didn’t talk about those. The months after their falling-out were a forbidden subject in the Fearamid. Paci-Fire had been forgetful enough to bring up the incident at O’Sadley’s - and wow had that information left Ford feeling a lot more secure about Bill’s feelings for him - and had been banished to the plane of endless hangnails for a week straight.)

The aches and pains were the most worrisome for Ford, honestly, though he was fairly certain that those were normal for humans (they had been for his mother while she was pregnant with Shermie). And if that wasn’t enough, the hormones had hit only a few weeks after he’d begun his stay in the Fearamid. According to Bill, Ford was around seven months along at that point, which had left the human worried for how small his stomach still was - until Bill told him that Euclidean pregnancies lasted two full years.

He… he was really hoping it ended up being a more human-length pregnancy.

“Time sand,” Ford muttered from where he was stretched out across the lounger Bill had put in next to his throne. The demon still had duties to attend to as King of the Nightmare Realm, but he’d been insistent that Ford stay near him at all times.

“Hm?” Bill hummed as he quietly flipped to the next page of the recent incident reports from the various rifts that constantly opened and closed in the dimension.

“I’m craving time sand,” Ford clarified, glaring up at the roof of the throne room with a simmering annoyance.

“You can’t have time sand, IQ,” Bill didn’t even bother looking at his human as the old argument began once again. “We have repeatedly been over this. I don’t care how much you’re craving it, we don’t know how it would react with your pregnancy. And we can’t take chances.”

“But I want it!” Ford turned onto his side to whine pitifully at his Muse, sticking his lower lip out in a pout. “You’re the one who said I can have anything I want!”

Bill sighed as he shut his eye, massaging the lid as though he were massaging his temples. “Fordsy, light of my life, center of my galaxy, moon to my sun,” he turned to finally look down at his human, his eye tired but adoring. “You cannot have time sand. How about a calendula salad with some wasp honey and mayo?”

Ford stared at Bill for a silent moment, pout still in place and eyes narrowed. “Fine!” he finally moaned, drawing out the word as he reluctantly admitted defeat. “But the honey better be fresh!”

Bill chuckled as he lifted off the throne, floating down to Ford’s side and pulled his human up into a bridal carry. “For you? Always,” his eye narrowed in a smile. Ford returned the expression as he nuzzled against his Muse’s bricks, humming in contentment as the demon phased them through the roof and into the penthouse of the Fearamid. He deposited the scientist at the dining table just outside the kitchen - all of which he’d created specifically for his human.

(The incident that had lead to this was also not talked about. But Bill had quickly limited Ford’s access to the demon’s powers after it.)

“You want everything cut up for you again?” Bill asked with infinite patience as he snapped a ‘Kiss the King’ apron into existence, tying it around his angles with practiced movements. Ford hummed in affirmation, nodding his head before he laid it on top of his arms on the table. Glancing to him once before turning to the fridge and pulling out his ingredients, Bill couldn’t help the warmth that flooded his insides at the sight of his human swollen with the triangle’s child.

He’d never thought himself an overly sentimental being. No, he’d always been more prone to cruelty for amusements sake, if anything. But the sight of his Sixer, calm and comfortable within his grasp, belly growing bigger by the day, had ignited something inside of him. He didn’t remember Euclydia that well, most of the memories covered in static and fire, but he did remember that they partnered for life. Once one of a pair was pregnant, a biological change happened with the two shapes that allowed for an emotional connection well beyond that of mere ‘love’.

Ford was, and would forever be, Bill’s one and only - the life growing inside him ensured that.

#How Does This Even Happen?!#gravity falls #gravity falls au #ford pines #stanford pines #bill cipher #billford #fanfic #mpreg!ford #pregnant ford pines #male pregnancy #mpreg #Ford being an absolute Diva #and Bill putting up with it cause ONE OF THEM has to be rational one!#also did you know some wasps make honey?#it's not good #but I feel like it's def something Ford would want if he were pregnant and had cravings #cause he def tried it at some point #cause he got curious

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heroesofchroma · 8 months ago

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7 - New Surroundings

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Rampart waited patiently outside medical, clad casually in simple baggy pants and a form fitting croptop over their small, toned chest, their caramel skin contrasting black lipstick, though they didn’t wear any other makeup. They fiddled idly on their phone just to pass time, nose curling at the still-intense smell of the freshly cleaned floors. The kid they were supposedly sponsoring was meant to get released today, now that she was deemed magically stable now, so Rampart managed to get a day off to help her integrate a bit better. Didn’t even have to make it up.

After about what felt like hours of waiting, more like just thirty minutes or so, polished shoes clicked against the polished tiles up to Rampart. “Sir?” asked the mystic who had been with them when Rampart first agreed to sponsor this girl. “Celestia is ready.”

Looking up from their phone, Rampart saw a young girl, hair being worn in a trio of equal length ponytails on the back of her head, speaking to the sheer volumes of hair each one was holding back by just how identical each looked aside from their positions. The girl’s pale skin was clad in a sleeveless black jumpsuit and white shoulder and waist wraps, and off-white-rimmed glasses with big jamjar lenses framed her pale green eyes. A big, green duffle bag slung over her shoulder, clearly weighing on her a bit. White ankle boots covered her feet, and the girl extended a hand with a white and blue hand wrap around it to Rampart, keeping the other behind her back with a flushed face.

“It’s good to meet you, sir. Cygnus, you prefer?” the apparent Celestia asked, a swedish accent laced in her voice.

Rampart nodded, standing up and showing off the easy half a foot they had in height over her, but a big smile crossed their face. “Indeed I do, and you’re Celestia, right? The pleasure’s all mine.” Looking between the girl and the mystic, they added, “Is there anything I should know before we head out?”

The mystic shook her head. “Not that you haven’t already been made aware of, sir.”

Celestia raised a nervous finger up to get Cygnus’s attention. “Actually, I was wondering… Where exactly do you live, sir?”

Cygnus shook their head and offered a slight chuckle to try and ease the poor girl’s nerves. “Please, call me Cygnus. Cy or Ram work, too,” they assured before actually answering the question. “And I live about a half hour away from HQ, north by northwest on Yellowbrick Ave. It’s an apartment, but I make enough to live with a guest room. You should know, in case they didn’t tell you, I do have a roommate.”

Celestia tilted her head a bit, but maintained a bit of a smile. “A roommate?”

Cygnus nodded. “Don’t get any ideas, yes, just a roommate. She’s a treat, though, don’t worry. I have a feeling you’ll get along great with her.” Shifting their weight a bit, they pocketed their phone and beckoned Celestia to follow. “You ready?”

With a deep breath, Celestia nodded, and followed Cygnus down the halls, waving to the mystic as she went.

After a moment, Rampart tried striking up conversation of some kind with, “So, Celestia… Seems a bit on the nose, don’t yah think?”

“I’m… Sorry?” the girl asked incredulously, tilting her head.

“I just find it a little entertaining, is all. Your name and who you’re getting help from,” Cygnus explained, stuffing hands in pockets. “Am I thinking of the wrong people here?”

Celestia paused her thoughts for a moment before letting out a realizing laugh. “Oh, yes, now I see, I suppose that is an impressive coincidence, the astronomy connections...”

Cygnus shrugged. “I dunno, maybe. Or maybe it’s more.”

“More?”

“Well, it may be a bit cheesy, but the universe does have ways of telling you some things, I think,” Cygnus explained as they brought Celestia from the elevator into the parking complex of Chroma HQ. The sounds of deep urban jungle just outside muffled in, punctuated by a prolonged car horn. “I don’t try and interpret stuff for other people, but maybe you’ve got something more… substantial than just needing some help from the Astrals.”

Celestia hummed in thought as she followed Cygnus to their two-door, beat up pick-up truck, managing to look inviting despite the few dents and bits of chipping paint. “I… suppose so? Maybe? I don’t really have any argument that it isn’t.”

Cygnus shrugged back. “Time’ll tell, I guess… Just toss your bag in the back, it’ll stay.” They climbed into the driver’s seat, waiting until Celestia climbed into the passenger and was belted in before starting the truck. The younger couldn’t help but relax a little into the soft cloth seats. After pulling out into the streets, they stole a second to glance at Celestia. “So… Am I allowed to ask about your condition?”

Celestia tensed up in her seat, shifting a bit. “Uh… W-Well…” she stammered to start, trying to find words before Cygnus shook their head at her.

“You don’t have to-”

“No, you-... You should know. Living with me…” Celestia muttered, taking a breath to steel herself before explaining. “I’ve… Been possessed. And the way I understand it, it’s… The treatment is…” Celestia trailed off, wringing her fingers between each other, staring at them.

Cygnus remained silent, nonjudgemental, trying to let the poor thing find her thoughts.

“The treatment is a second entity until I’ve… I guess Stabilized is the best term for it?”

Cygnus raised an eyebrow at Celestia’s words. “Oh really? So… Should… Should I know anything about that?” they asked tentatively, trying to be sensitive about the subject.

Celestia sighed. “I don’t know…”

Cygnus stole another glance at Celestia as they hit a red light, sighing as well. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll figure it out, I guess.” Despite the attempt at reassurance, Cygnus saw the nerves flaring over the girl’s face. And after a moment of awkward silence, Cygnus reached for the radio. “You like synth?”

Celestia nodded, thankful for the change of subject. “I don’t mind it at all, yes.”

Cygnus turned on the radio, synthetic bass and keyboards drowning out the sounds of traffic surrounding them on the rest of the ride. When they finally arrived at the apartment, it was fairly well to do, though not extravagant, seemingly indistinct to Celestia from the surrounding buildings despite having a vertical, yellow-tinted design as opposed to the horizontal grey monoliths she saw around it. Cygnus found their usual spot in the adjoining garage and grabbed Celestia’s bag for her, handing it over when she extended a hand for it. As the young lady followed Cygnus inside, she couldn’t help but cling as close to them as possible, drawing a chuckle that cut through the quiet of the apartment’s foyer.

“Apartment 6-2, 6th floor, door 2. My roommate should be at work, but in case she isn’t, her name’s Jessibel,” Cygnus explained as they led Celestia into yet another elevator. This one smelled freshly of stainless steel polish and the carpet lining the floor was plush, yet Celestia saw no signs of any maintenance in the building as they walked the quiet halls. Cygnus seemed to pick up on her unease and smiled. “Don’t worry too much. Walls are thick, and for once, I lucked out with a landlord that actually friggin’ listens. And my neighbors tend to keep to themselves.”

Celestia offered a nod and an acknowledging hum, adjusting the bag over her shoulder, eyeing the beige painted hallway like it was about to start closing in on her.

Just beside the elevator, thankfully enough, was Celestia’s new, hopefully temporary, home. Cygnus deftly unlocked it with a physical key and swung the door open, allowing Celestia to enter first. “Welcome home, kid. Make it yours.”

Celestia stepped tentatively into the space, feeling invasive as she looked around the intricately decorated living room. The first thing that drew her eye was the kitchen in the corner, a small space, no more than a sixth of the larger room, and smelling like old oil. Cygnus cursed softly to themselves as they shut the door, muttering something about how Jess needs to clean up better as they rushed over to the kitchen. The floor was faux hardwood, separated into individual spaces by two large rugs, one for the TV space, and another for the dining. A small hallway sat on one side of the apartment while a door was at the far side, just beside the kitchen. The door had a small wreath hanging from it made of fake, cutesy pink flowers. All around the space, different knick knacks cluttered shelves, most seeming a touch macabre, though a bright pink plushie sat on a bookshelf beside the wall-hung TV.

Celestia stood just beyond the threshold long enough to draw Cygnas’s concern. “Come on in, nothing’ll bite. Don’t mind Jessie’s stuff, it’s all faux-bones or totem shit,” they called over the sound of the running sink and scratching sponge-on-pan. “I’ll show you your room in a sec here, sorry. Jess decided to ‘forget’ to clean my good nonstick.”

The young lady swallowed as she took tentative steps towards the couch, the duffle bag around her shoulder feeling considerably heavy at this moment, but her nerves stopping her from setting it down. Or sitting down for that matter, instead, opting to lean a little closer to a shard of purple amethyst glimmering gently on the bookshelf, along with the tiny rat skull next to it. “Is… Jessibel a mystic?” she asked.

Cygnus offered a bit of a confused sound before they answered. “Something along those lines? I don’t entirely get it, I’ll be honest, something to do magic and medicine. Official title was ‘Rune Nurse’ or something like that. She doesn’t tend to talk to me about it, we usually bond over cheesy horror movies or whatever the new serial is.” The pilot stepped from the kitchen, wiping their hands on a dish towel before tossing the cloth back on a counter. They saw how tense Celestia stood, her shifting feet and clenching hands. “You okay, kid?”

Celestia only tensed more, subtly, not noticing her fists clinging to her bag like it was keeping her from falling into a void that didn’t exist. “It’s… I think this is all just… Kind of hitting me now. Being here, calling it a home makes this all… Not a nightmare…”

Cygnus’s shoulders slumped at the poor girl’s distress. They stepped over and offered a comforting hand to her and a soft grin. “Hey, listen. I know… It’s a lot,” they begin, choosing words carefully as they can. “I can’t say I know how bad it must feel going from your home country all the way to Centurion City of all places, but I do know the Fish Out Of Water feeling. It sucks, but it’ll pass. And please understand, I’ve got your back through this. Okay, kid?”

Celestia sniffed, tears coming to the corners of her eyes as she wiped them away with the back of her white-wrapped hand. Taking Cygnus's with the same hand, she held on like it was for dear life and nodded. “Thank you…”

Cygnus squeezed back and smiled, offering Celestia a hug, which the girl hesitantly took. The soldier held the young woman tight for a moment, letting her catch her breath before letting her free. “You ready to see your space?” they asked calmly.

Once Celestia nodded, she was lead into the hallway and up through it to the blank door. Glancing down the other way, she saw a door hanging ajar, a practically decorated bedroom with a home office set up just within view beyond that, presuming that was Cygnus’s.

Through the door she was to be apparently staying in was a simple room, a queen sized bed in the middle, two night stands, a closet and dresser, and a three-blade ceiling fan were the main decor of the white-carpeted room. A painting hung on the far wall next to the closet, a landscape of the city skyline, punctuated by the 5 towers of The Rotund on the left side and morphed to allow City Hall to stand much shorter on the right.

“I’ll let you get settled in. Take your time, and let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Celestia nodded, stepping into the room and sighing, steeling herself as she set her duffle bag on the bed.

“Oh, one last thing, before I forget.” Cygnus stood in the doorway as Celestia turned to face them. “Jess’s got a sphynx. He’s usually locked up in her room unless Jess’s home, but he’s nice enough. Just let him approach you, he won’t bite or scratch you unless he’s cornered.”

Celestia nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “Thanks for the message…” As Cygnus turned to close the door and leave, she called after them, “And thank you again for everything.”As she was left alone in the simple room, opening her dufflebag, Celestia let out a long, shuddering sigh. Pulling the family photo from the bag, she steeled herself. For you two… she muttered to herself, staring at her mother and father.

===

Celestia sighed, rubbing her face clean, having discarded her shoes in a corner by the door of her room. The shower was nice. The two in her head have been quiet since the mystics gave her her last treatment. That effect was supposed to be wearing off right about-

{It’s good to see you’re up and about now, Cellte.}

The strong, yet singsong voice took the girl by surprise, making her yelp at nothing but her own mind. The towel around her dropped from her startled hands, a shimmering white wrap taking its place.

{It’s okay. You’re safe, promise, Cellte.}

Celestia shook her head, remembering what’s going on now… The cacophony is still quiet, at least. Nothing too extreme. Just one voice. Not what felt like thousands. “Who… Who are you?” Celestia whispered the demand, not wanting to draw attention from the other in the apartment.

{My name is unpronounceable to mortal kind. Especially humans. You may know it better as Justice. I am the Nim that has been entrusted with purging your curse.}

The new voice was harsh, abrasive, but not necessarily hostile. It hurt Celestia’s ears for a moment.

{Silence yourself, Fox. You’re hurting Her.}

Celestia, shook her head again, much more vigorously this time. “STOP! Both of you!”

The ‘Nim’, as it… she called herself, fell silent immediately.

The other, the shadow… Whatever, the Fox, it grumbled a bit. <Sorry…>

The apology almost took Celestia back a bit before she sighed. “Well… This is the first time I’ve been able to… To think. Or talk. Since you… The Fox possessed me.” Another soft grumble escaped into Celestia’s mind, something she was beginning to take as an apologetic tone. “I for one think introductions are in order. If we’re going to be stuck together until we figure out a way to separate… We should know what to call each other, right? You two can call me Celestia.”

There’s a silence permeating the trio, but inside her chest… No, in her very spirit, Celestia can feel the tension between the two forces. The being of light and the entity of dark, silently in cold war.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you what you two should be doing now, do-”

Before Celestia can finish the thought, the Fox speaks again.

<Terror. The closest you’ll get for me is Terror. From either of you.>

Celestia sighed, tensions easing a bit within her. She remained quiet, waiting for a moment.

After what feels like too long… {Justice.}

Another pause… <It’s… Okay. To meet you, Justice.>

{I hope we don’t have to stay like this for long.}

The tense silence returns, echoing nothing in Celestia’s soul. It isn’t until the door knocks Celestia’s thoughts free of herself that she realizes how long she’s just been standing at the foot of the bed, and that there’s a black top and matching shorts beneath the now two-piece-esc white dress.

“Hey,” chimed Cygnus’s voice from beyond the wood. “You have any food allergies we need to be worried about?”

Celestia cleared her throat, her voice shuddering a moment. “O-Oh, no! No diet restrictions or anything, thank you!” she called back, heading to the door and opening it with a smile. “I-Is dinner almost ready?”

Cygnus smiled back as the smell of lasagna filled Celestia’s nostrils. “Hope you don’t mind, yeah.”

“It’s perfect!” Celestia tried to assure, following Cygnus out into the main living area.

On the couch lounged a tired-looking, pale woman with nearly white hair and green eyes, wearing something akin to a short-sleeved, knee-length, pastel pink nightgown, a skull embroidered off-center in the hem of the skirt, hanging over her left knee. She was busy watching a romcom movie, and the apparent sphynx loafing on her chest suggested who this was.

“Jessibel?” Celestia asked, approaching almost cautiously.

The woman glanced up and smiled. “Yeah. Celestia, right? Cy texted me you’d be here tonight,” she said, extending a hand for the younger to shake.

Celestia smiled and shook it firmly once. “Right, it’s good to meet you.” Reaching a tentative finger towards the cat, she asked, “And who’s this?”

Before she could get an answer, the cat hissed softly, patchy black and white skin wrinkling a bit as his ears pinned back slightly. It offered an almost confused ‘raurrr…’ at Celestia.

“Ribs! What was that about?” Jessibel chided gently, offering comforting scratches to the sphynx’s cheek as she sat up a bit. “I’m so sorry, he’s usually a sweetheart…”

Celestia shook her head, smiling but now a bit unnerved. “No-no-no, it’s okay! I-I understand, really.”

<You’re a bad liar…>

{You’re the one making the thing question us!}

Jessibel sighed. “In any case, you alright? Cy mentioned something about an illness, and tell me if I’m stepping over boundaries…”

Celestia hesitated, debating before finding her voice. “I-I’d rather not talk about it right now, I… Don’t fully understand it. It’s not contagious or anything.”

Jess nodded. “Of course, in your own time if ever,” she offered, looking the girl up and down a bit. “Nice dress, by the by.”

Celestia smiled a bit. “O-Oh, thank you! It’s… something I bought overseas.”

Neither being spoke up, but she could feel Terror’s eyes rolling.

“Your gown is adorable, too!” Celestia finished, trying to ignore the two for now.

The night wore on as Cygnus eventually came and joined the two, Celestia finding a chair while Cygnus and Jessibel shared the couch, the apparent ‘Ribs’ almost dutifully finding a spot by Cygnus’s feet to curl up. The cat’s eyes never left Celestia, judging and pondering. The eyes seemed to keep the two entities quiet, at least.

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#heroes of chroma #writing #superhero #my writing #superhero genre #novel #novel writing #superheroes #novel project #WASP's Fall

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