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ckret2 · 2 months

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Chapter 59 of human Bill Cipher possibly not being the Mystery Shack's prisoner because he got executed two chapters ago:

Everything you haven't wondered about how Bill survived his execution.

7:27 a.m.

Mabel didn't know why, but figuring out when to ask Mrs. Grendinator to pull over had felt as stressful as trying to throw a ping pong ball into a passing car's open fuel door to land in the little fuel pipe. All she had to do was ask to pull over after they'd passed everything but the last truck stop, but before it was too late for Mrs. Grendinator to make the turn into the Triple Digit parking lot. That was a large window. It wasn't easy to miss. Somehow Mabel still dreaded that she'd speak up too late and Mrs. Grendinator would say she'd have to wait for the next rest stop—by which point Bill would have splatted like a bug against the weirdness barrier while everyone else passed safely through.

But she'd managed to blurt out "I forgot to use the bathroom at home. Can we pull over?"; they'd stopped at the Triple Digit Truck Stop; and Mabel made it inside before her friends could catch her.

She locked the unisex restroom door, set her backpack on the ground, opened it up, and sighed with relief when she saw Bill sitting on her sweater. She carefully pulled him out, set him on the floor, and pointed the height-altering flashlight at him.

For a moment after returning to his true size, he remained seated on the floor, legs bent, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Worriedly, Mabel asked, "You okay?"

"Think I learned what motion sickness is," Bill groaned. "Just—gimme a sec."

"Aww, I'm sorry." Mabel surreptitiously checked in her backpack to make sure Bill hadn't been sick on her sweater. (It was a cool one. It had kissing parrots.)

After a few deep breaths, Bill lifted his head enough to look at Mabel. The first thing he said was, "'Cool big brother-slash-sister,' huh?" He gave her a queasy, but cheeky, grin.

"Shut uuup you weren't supposed to hear that!" She'd just about died with embarrassment when Candy had repeated that where she knew Bill could hear.

"I'm flattered." Bill uncurled himself from his nauseous half-fetal position; and then, gripping onto the sink for support, got back to his feet. "Being smaller again was nice, but I'm never traveling like that again."

"You're such a whiner."

"Yeah, yeah. I have a lot to whine about. I'm dead and about to be executed. Talk about... lose your cake and... not-eat it, too."

Mabel laughed. Bill mussed her hair, grinning, and said, "Hey, you've got no room to laugh, you're the one with the not-setting-houses-on-fire bit."

"Arrrgh, don't remind me!" She pushed Bill to the side so she could use the mirror to straighten out her hair again.

"You did pretty well, though! I'd say that was some of the best acting I've ever seen out of you."

"You too! They definitely bought it," Mabel said. "Even Grunkle Stan was getting worried."

"Especially back in the kitchen, wow! That was really convincing." He paused. "Really, really convincing."

Something heavy hung in the air. Mabel focused on her hair in the mirror.

Bill said, "That bit in the kitchen about me 'depending' on you." He exaggerated the air quotes around the word, distancing himself from the concept. "It wasn't on our list."

"Yeah. It just kinda... seemed right. Improv." Mabel waved unenthusiastic jazz hands.

"It bothers you."

Mabel winced. "I mean... I'm not actually mad at you. But. I want to help, but I don't know what to do for..." She gestured at Bill. "The whole being dead on an alien planet issue."

"Believe it or not, the hoodie helps," Bill said. "Listening helps." But he couldn't meet her gaze; he was fiddling with his friendship bracelet instead. He had to know how heavy even just listening to him could be.

"I'm glad, but... I just... wish you had more friends you could talk to."

Bill nodded morosely. "So do I." It wasn't like he'd chosen to only have one friend, was it? Prisoners didn't get to make those kinds of decisions.

Mabel asked, "Do you really think I think you're just a summer fix-it project?"

"I... pfff... come on, I watched you spend all last summer handing out makeovers and dating advice. You've already done my makeup, taken me clothes shopping, and tried to pump me for info on what kinds of freaks I'm into."

(Mabel quietly filed away the fact that Bill referred to "freaks" as his preferred romantic targets.)

"That's how your summer was going to end," Bill said. "You tame the monster, go home triumphant, and don't worry about it anymore. Like how you patched up Broken Heart's love life and left him to sort out the consequences."

"No!" Mabel huffed, "I mean—maybe a little at the beginning, but... you're really my friend now, I'd hate it if I never saw you again. I don't give friendship bracelets to just anybody!"

Bill kind of thought she did; but he wasn't about to argue. "Well, I've only given one person a bracelet, and I meant it." (Even more now than when he'd originally made it.) "You're never getting rid of me now, star girl. You're stuck with me forever!"

Coming out of Bill Cipher, the promise should have filled her with dread. A month ago it would have filled her with dread. But Mabel just found it comforting. "Good."

(And Ford hadn't felt any dread when he'd sworn "until the end of time," either.)

Bill took off his backpack and rummaged through it. "Now let me make sure I can keep that promise."

He took out a map of the mountains and forest around Gravity Falls and spread it out on the floor for them to kneel in front of. "You know about the spaceship buried under town? When its ring cut through the mountain, a few chunks of the ship dislodged and were buried in one of the mountains. No human has ever found them before, not even your great uncle. That's where I'll hide."

"Are the chunks big enough to hide in?"

"Sure! There's one that'd serve as a decent studio apartment. Well—the cheapest studio apartment in Manhattan, maybe. But, hey, I don't have much furniture."

On the map, he showed Mabel a route to reach the base of the cliff, tracing it with his finger. She couldn't afford to take a map with the route marked; if the adults discovered Bill's escape and confiscated Mabel's possessions, a marked map would lead them straight to him. She'd just have to do her best to memorize the route he described. "When and if the coast is clear, you can come find me there."

"How do I get up the cliff?"

"Don't worry about that. You make it that far, I'll take care of the rest."

And that was all they could afford to discuss. Mabel couldn't hide in here for long. As Bill refolded the map (and Mabel was awed to learn he was the kind of person who could refold maps correctly on the first try), and he packed the map and the height-altering flashlight in his backpack, they each tried separately to figure out how to get around to saying goodbye.

"I uh... I know you're sticking your neck out for me, kid." (Bill wasn't used to this, wasn't used to people who didn't help him due to fear or duty or lies, wasn't used to people who still wanted to help him after they knew what he was really like.) "So, thanks—"

Mabel flung her arms around him. Her voice thick, she said, "I think your manners are getting better."

"Shut up, I've always known how to say thanks." It was gratitude that was new.

"Be safe out there," Mabel said. "Don't die, or else. Remember to eat. And drink water! And do laundry sometimes."

"All right, all right. You'll find me in better health than you left me. All the sunshine and fresh air this body can take."

"I'll miss you."

Keep it together, Cipher. He swallowed hard. "Have you ever heard the song 'We'll Meet Again'?"

"Uh-uh?"

"Old war song. Look it up once you're in Portland, when you aren't busy having synthesizers pumped in your ears."

"Is it about... how we'll meet again?"

"Yes, smartypants. Look it up anyway," Bill said. "I'll miss you too."

Mabel washed her face, left the restroom, and shut the door behind her; and Bill waited in the dark while everyone left.

####

7:45 a.m.

A woman with two children opened the unisex restroom door, and gasped in shock when she saw a human silhouette lurking in the dark, one eye shining.

"Hey, thanks, lady! Couldn't get the door for some reason." He breezed past her. "Careful, it sticks from the inside."

He grabbed an empty backpack for sale, and loaded it up with supplies, food, and drinks. (The good stuff, not the weak cider he got in the Mystery Shack. He was making margaritas tonight.) He headed up to the cash register... veered to a currently-unmanned register, stole a handful of loose change out of a tip jar, and timed his exit so he walked out just as a man walked in and kindly held the door for him.

####

7:55 a.m.

It was a fair walk from Triple Digit back to the cliffs around Gravity Falls. When Bill was a safe distance into the woods, he unzipped his first backpack, retrieved his flattened top hat, and popped it out; and then continued on, behatted and using his umbrella like a cane.

Even with no sleep, even just a couple of days after the worst hiking trip in history, even tired and sore from an hour of frenzied dancing, even carrying two full backpacks with one strap slung over each shoulder, even with the sky gloomy and overcast—this was the best he'd felt since Weirdmageddon.

His steps were sure, his body was unchained, and the future had opened up for him again.

####

8:00 a.m.

Mabel kept glancing out the window, back in the direction of Gravity Falls, waiting and waiting to see the light of some kind of killer laser cut through the sky.

Maybe the Quantum Destabilizer's beam just wasn't visible from this far. Maybe they'd decided to wait to execute Bill. Maybe they hadn't wasted their shot because they'd already discovered Bill and Mabel's ruse. Maybe the "enchantment" Bill had written hadn't done its job.

But if they had discovered Bill was missing, they would've called Mabel immediately, trying to find out what she'd done and where he'd gone.

Her phone sat hard and heavy and silent in her pocket.

The butterflies in her stomach didn't stop fluttering until long after they reached Portland.

####

10:30 a.m.

Plus or minus a few trees, the rendezvous point at the base of the cliff was just how Bill had remembered last seeing it millennia ago. The Trilazzx Betan proximity sensor that had been embedded in the cliff face since the ship crash was still there and still sensing, even after millions of years and a layer of stone had closed around it. He could see it behind the face of the cliff; and it could see him.

He took out the multi-tool pocket knife Dipper had "donated" to Bill's supplies, flipped out the blade, and carved his face in a tree far enough from the rendezvous point to avoid notice by anyone who found this spot, but near enough it could see anyone who showed up. He made it as accurate as he could—hat, bow, limbs, eyelashes. That would unfortunately make it easier for humans to identify the face if anyone happened to walk by, but his ability to connect to his other eyes was still weak, he needed as much of a boost as he could get. He licked the bark, leaving his saliva to connect the eye on the tree to him.

And then he returned to the rendezvous point at the base of the cliff, and, beneath the watchful eye of the proximity sensor, began digging in the dirt with his hands.

Beneath the soil, fortunately not buried too deep, was a stone shaped like a small tombstone with several symbols carved into its surface that superficially resembled common runes. Bill brushed the dirt off of his leggings and rubbed it out of the carved lines in the stone. It was lucky that today was overcast; it would make this thing a lot easier to control.

Bill took out the flashlight, removed the height-altering crystal, turned it on, and aimed the beam at the topmost rune.

The runes began glowing an eerie green.

The ground shuddered; and then a patch of ground five feet in diameter lifted up into the air, carrying Bill with it, tearing the grass at the edge of the circle, propelled by a long-forgotten enchanted stone platform concealed in the clump of dirt.

He rose to the gouge that the spaceship had carved into the mountain; and then he moved his flashlight's beam to another rune. The platform smoothly shifted to moving sideways, gliding beneath the ancient overhang. When he turned off the flashlight, the stone stopped glowing and gently settled to the ground. Bill stepped off, fished a spare shirt out of his backpack, and pulled it over the rune-covered stone so it couldn't take off if the sun came out. There was a reason this buried stone was the only platform of its kind left in the area outside of the deep mountain caverns: leave one outside on a sunny day where the light can hit its runes, and next thing you know it's zoomed out over the Pacific and is quickly rising toward space.

He surveyed the area. Every once in a while humans climbed up here just for the challenge of it, delightful little explorers they were; but he doubted anyone had been up here in decades. He stood in front of what was, to all appearances, a completely nondescript patch of stony ground; and he said, in heavily accented but intelligible Trilazzx Betan, "Let me in, you hunk of junk. Activate emergency crash protocols."

A fragment of ship deep beneath the ground stirred awake, registered the command, analyzed itself and concluded from the fact that it wasn't in space and was separated from 99% of the rest of itself that it had indeed crashed, and activated emergency crash protocols. In acknowledgment of the dire situation, it deactivated its usual authorized personnel list—there was no sense in waiting for the captain to approve new orders if the captain might be dead—accepted the command given by the unknown being above it, and opened its hatch.

Millions of years of solid stone groaned and buckled in protest at being moved; but Trilazzx Betan engineering was strong enough for the framework of a portal capable of ripping a hole between dimensions without being ripped apart itself. The stone yielded first. A hatch swung up, revealing a tilted chamber descending into the cliff.

Bill strolled confidently down the walkway. "Cancel distress signal. Disable life support's air filtering." The fragment of a ship beeped a warning, and Bill responded, "I'm aware of this planet's high oxygen content. You worry about your health, I'll worry about mine. Disable air filtering." The ship beeped a confirmation. "Reconnect to all external proximity sensors in range and display on screens one, two, and three." This broken part of the ship had once handled communications. It had a whole wall of screens. He wondered whether he could jury rig this thing to pick up human satellite TV. Nah, probably not worth the effort.

He slung off his backpacks and started unpacking.

####

12:04 p.m.

It was time.

Dipper sat on the floor and put his head in his hands. He felt sick.

He was dead. In just a few seconds Ford would discover that Bill was gone—Dipper was sure he was gone, they hadn't heard a peep from the room, Mabel must've snuck him out or left him some escape route—and then Ford would know that someone had warned Bill and Mabel, and then Dipper was dead—

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah." Dipper waved Ford off. "Just... didn't get much sleep. Little dizzy." Ford would never trust him again. Stan would be furious. They'd both be furious.

"You can go downstairs if you..."

"No no, I'm fine, I..." Dipper took a deep breath and lifted his head. "I'll face it." Better to get it over with now than to hide downstairs and wait for it.

Stan nodded. "Good man." He wouldn't be so proud of Dipper in a moment.

Ford nodded, stood, opened the door—and Dipper buried his face in his hands again.

####

12:06 p.m.

Ford could see Bill up in the loft, hood up and shoulders hunched, back to the room. Ford could shoot Bill in the back without him ever waking up.

He climbed into the loft. Bill lay curled up in a ball, a small as Ford had ever seen him.

But it only took a moment for Ford's eyes to adjust to the dark; and even in the dim light through the stained glass window, he could tell:

The shape in front of him wasn't human. Just lumpy clothes.

Ford whipped around, heart pounding, clutching the Quantum Destabilizer's carrying case against his chest, searching for the real Bill lurking somewhere in the shadows. No sign of him. Ford had already looked on the floor level. Was he gone? How?

He was too dumbfounded to be outraged. He walked up to the dummy to pull it apart—

And saw the paper, folded in quarters, floating in the air above it. Four symbols in a cipher were written atop the paper. Ford recognized them: it was the alien alphabet of an interdimensional pidgin used as a written lingua franca throughout the Nightmare Realm and its bordering regions; it was so widespread that Ford had learned the alphabet before he ever left Earth.

The four letters read, "F O R D".

Ford plucked the paper out of the air and unfolded it.

Stanford–

I'll cut to the chase. I need your help. I don't want to die.

I'm banking on the hope that, in spite of everything you've said and done, part of you also doesn't want me to die.

You have a choice. You can walk out there, tell them I escaped, rally an angry mob, and comb everything under the weirdness barrier for me. This town's not that big and I'll need to eat eventually. We both know I can't hide forever.

Or you can tell them you finished the job. No one looks for me. No one knows but you and me.

I don't have rewards or deals to offer. You already know what I bring to the table. If that hasn't persuaded you to side with me by now, it never will. I'm not bargaining. I'm begging.

I'm asking you, as my friend, to help me survive.

Please.

· –·-– -–

Of course.

How dare he.

Had Bill planned this all along? Was this why he'd insisted he wanted to be Ford's friend? Was this why he'd saved his life? Maybe the entire rescue had been staged—the rescue, the performance of fear over a harmless phenomenon, the mental breakdown, all of it. For all Ford knew, maybe the accursed Axolotl was in on the scheme! How clairvoyant was Bill? Had he seen this moment coming?

But if he'd seen this moment coming, wouldn't it have been easier to just let Ford, his executioner-to-be, die? Ford and Dipper both, so Dipper wouldn't figure out how to synthesize NowUSeeitNowUDontium? If he'd saved them in spite of that, didn't that make it a sincere gesture?

But implication was clear: I've been a friend to you, now be one to me. A life for a life. There was nothing sincere in that. It was pure self interest.

(For just a couple of days, Ford really had thought it was sincere.)

But if the only reason Bill had saved Ford was to save himself—then why had Bill endangered his own life in the process?

With every thought Ford's paranoia pendulumed.

He should get Stan. Call the cops, confess who they'd been harboring for the past month, tell them everything, get a manhunt going before Bill could make it any further away. Even if he couldn't leave the weirdness barrier, there were probably hundreds of hidden hidey-holes Bill could dig himself into that humans had never seen—unexplored hallways in Crash Site Omega, uncharted caverns behind Trembley Falls where Bill didn't even need light to see. They could drag him back into the light, tie him up, aim the Quantum Destabilizer straight at him...

But. In spite of himself, he could still see Mabel's drawing hopefully reassigning Bill the role of a superhero. He could still see the crumpled drawing in his pocket—"I BELIEVE IN YOU. YOU CAN CHANGE!" He could still see Dipper tentatively asking whether they might need Bill someday. He could still see Bill playing teacher in the living room. And for a moment, for just a moment, Bill had been so good. He could be so good.

Why couldn't you have been this person?

Why can't you be this person?

What if he could be better? What if he could be decent? What if he could be a friend?

Ford didn't believe Bill was any better today than he had been the day he died. But—at some point, something had slowly turned over in Ford's mind. He believed that Bill could change. Not would change, not is changing, but could. And if Ford started a manhunt, Bill would never be a threat again—but he'd also never be better.

There was a point where the doubt and hope built up to a critical mass—when they became enough, just enough, to stay the trigger finger. Because once Ford fired on Bill, that was it. All chances were gone forever. It was over. If Bill was alive they could always try again to kill him later; but if Bill was dead, they could never try again to better him.

And for the first time in thirty years, Ford wanted Bill to be better more than he wanted Bill to be dead.

Ford looked at the dummy. Looked at the note.

And then he lay the note on the dummy, knelt by the edge of the loft, opened his case, and removed the Quantum Destabilizer.

####

12:09 p.m.

Ten minutes ago, Bill had been in the process of emptying out his backpacks and finding nooks and cubbies amongst the alien communication workstations where he could tuck his supplies, when he'd glanced out the open hatch and noticed the beforeimage of the shot lighting up the sky.

He'd come out of his shelter to watch the moment approach; but he hadn't quite believed it until it was in the present and actually happening. The blue-white beam of the Quantum Destabilizer—its one and only shot—screamed off into the sky.

"Well, what do you know," he murmured, standing at the edge of the cliff, hands on his hips, staring out in wonder over the town. "I really didn't think you'd do it."

Ford had saved his life.

Bill crossed his arms tight and tried to convince himself he didn't wonder why.

####

12:10 p.m.

Ford heard Dipper and Stan come into the bedroom and climb the ladder. He was seized by an urge to sweep away the ashes and the evidence of his trick before they could realize what he'd done.

"Grunkle Ford...?"

He forced himself to speak. "It's done."

"So... Bill is...?"

Ford suddenly realized: Dipper knew Bill wasn't in here. He must have warned Mabel, and Mabel had arranged for Bill to be alone in their room long enough to escape.

Which meant Dipper knew Bill was alive.

(Bill had written, "No one knows but you and me." Bill was covering for the kids.)

Ford turned to look him in the eyes. "Yes, he's dead."

Which meant Dipper knew what Ford had done—and knew Ford knew what he had done.

Neither one of them needed to say anything else to know what the other was thinking. They just shared a look—the two most miserable co-conspirators in Gravity Falls.

####

12:25 p.m.

Bill sat cross-legged at the edge of the cliff and watched until the afterimage of the Quantum Destabilizer's shot had faded from the sky; and then he went inside his shelter, mixed the world's lamest margarita in a coffee mug, took it outside, sat again, and toasted toward the town and the Mystery Shack.

Here's to survival.

He sat outside until the gash the Quantum Destabilizer had cut in the clouds closed and it began to rain.

####

1:10 p.m.

Stan had come and gone a few minutes ago, and already Ford had forgotten everything he'd said, if he'd even registered it in the first place.

His fingers had itched until he'd finally had a moment to steal down to his study, retrieve Journal 5, and bring it up to the guest room; and now for over half an hour he'd been feverishly writing down every single thing he could remember learning about Bill over the last two days. The drawing of his homeworld. His lecture on biangles and psychic powers. How polygons inherited their sides. (Their royalty sounded nigh on Habsburgian; had their political system ever changed?) What little details Bill had let slip about where Edward Bishop Bishop's book was wrong. (Had he told Mabel more about their relationship? He'd have to ask when she was home.) How Bill signed his letter: "· -·-- --", Morse code for "EYM," was it an acronym, was it a code, what did it mean, why did he write it in two colors? How Bill spelled Mabel's name in alien alphabets: Mabelle, Maybell, the varying extra letters. How Bill danced: how he struggled to cross his ankles, how he turned out his feet, how his spine and shoulders never bent, how the complex ways he tilted his legs and pelvis compensated for his stiff spine.

If Bill was sticking around a while longer, then these details still mattered.

He refused to forget a thing.

####

Sunday, 12:02 a.m.

As "We'll Meet Again" finished playing, Mabel turned off her phone, put it back on her nightstand, and wiped her eyes again. Big stupid dork couldn't even say this himself, he had to hide it behind a song.

Yes. They would meet again. Law of attraction. Believing it was the first step to making it come true.

####

10:20 a.m.

The fearful butterflies in Mabel's stomach had slowly returned during the drive home from Portland. No one had texted her—was that a good sign?—but she was afraid it just meant they'd decided to let her enjoy the rest of her trip before letting her know she was grounded forever for helping Bill escape. When they'd all greeted her at the door, looking so somber, and she was sure she was about to get the bad news, she'd just had to keep acting normal and hope she wasn't gonna get in more trouble for playing dumb.

The last thing she expected Stan to say was, "Weshotim."

"Say wha?"

"We got that—space gun of Ford's working. We shot him. He's... I'm sorry, sweetie."

Mabel stared at Stan. That was impossible—there was no way they'd found Bill. But—if Stan believed he was dead...

She dragged her gaze from his face to Dipper's. Dipper bit his lips, staring at his feet. He wouldn't meet her eyes—too afraid that even looking at her would give something away.

She looked from Dipper to Ford. "Grunkle Ford?" She tried not to hope. "Is it true?"

There was no way he'd believed the dummy was real. The moment she'd read Bill's so-called "enchantment," she'd known making it believable was never the point. Bill's only real plan had always been to get Ford on their side.

For a long moment, Ford said nothing. He dragged his eyes up to meet her stare, took a deep breath, and nodded. "He's dead."

Mabel's eyes widened. Two days ago, Ford had been the one arguing that killing Bill was their only choice. If he'd changed his mind...

If anyone said anything else, she didn't register it in her excitement. She backed out of the doorway, leaped off the porch, and ran around the shack, looking for her bike.

She had to see Bill immediately.

####

10:21 a.m.

Quietly, Dipper asked, "Did we do the right thing?"

Ford didn't know. His stomach had been twisting with guilt and doubt since yesterday. His conscience had kept him up half the night. "I hope so."

He feared they'd have second-guessed themselves no matter what.

####

2:30 p.m.

Bill was asleep. He'd been sleeping off and on for most of the past day. This was the first time since he'd died that he had somewhere safe to sleep—somewhere nobody could touch his vulnerable body, nobody could move him, drown him, kill him.

And this was the first time he hadn't been helpless and sightless.

In his sleep, he saw his own body, curled up on the tilted floor against a wall, on top of the sleeping bag and under the Pony Heist bedsheet, from an eye he'd drawn on the ceiling.

From another eye he'd drawn on the wall, he saw the ship's open hatch, the overhang above, a small sliver of the gray drizzly sky over Gravity Falls.

And from his eye on the tree, blurry and fading as the rain washed away his saliva, he saw a human-shaped mass of raucous colors exploring the pit in the ground left behind by his hovering platform.

A human? He sat up with a gasp and looked at the screen displaying the proximity sensors. Sure enough, the sensor at the base of the cliff was displaying a Mabel-shaped silhouette.

He grabbed his flashlight and climbed out of his shelter.

####

"Kid, what are you doing out out here?!"

Mabel looked up. Bill was some twenty feet above her and quickly descending on what looked like a chunk of flying dirt the same size as the pit in the ground she'd been inspecting. "Bill!" She leaned her bike against the cliff face. Finally—she'd been wandering around in the trees forever trying to figure out where Bill's rendezvous point was hidden.

"It's pouring rain," Bill scolded. "You could lose your immune system or—or slip in the mud or something."

"Wow, nice to see you too, mom." Mabel ran up as Bill landed his floating chunk of ground.

"Hey, I don't want anything happening to my favorite human!" He scooted over to make room for her on the platform. "Just couldn't wait for a sunny day to meet again, huh?"

"Psh, come on! Like you meant that literally." Near Bill, the rain had mysteriously stopped landing on Mabel. She looked up and saw the rain simply parting in the air over Bill's head.

He noticed her glance and said, "Did I ever teach you the spell to repel rain? Remind me to do that before you go." He pointed his flashlight's beam at a rune on a stone rising from the platform, and it lifted off again. "Nice sweater today." He poked one parrot-winged sleeve, its bright colors darkened by the soaking rain. "It probably looked better dry."

Mabel smacked away his hand. "Bill, guess what! Grunkle Ford decided to protect you!"

"I know, I saw the wasted shot from here." He steered the platform onto the cliff. He landed it next to a hatch that opened into a subterranean tunnel. "Of course, I always knew he would. Didn't I say we'd pull this off?"

Sure he'd known. That was why he'd lied about what the "enchanted" paper really was so Mabel wouldn't worry.

Mabel followed him down into the metal tunnel. "Do you know what this means? You can come back to the shack!"

Bill turned to stare at her in bewilderment. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because... it's safe now? They're not gonna kill you?" Mabel squinted. "Why's it so dark in here?"

"Oh, right. You need this." Bill offered the flashlight.

Mabel turned it on. They were in a metal chamber, about half the size of the Mystery Shack's floor room and nowhere near as tall. One end of it had been torn off and dirt and stone served as the new wall. Most of the walls were dominated by heavy metal consoles, curved metal chairs, and screens, a few of which were on but flickered irritatingly. One chair still had a fossilized alien skeleton in it. Bill had put his top hat on it.

His supplies were piled haphazardly on consoles and the floor; all Mabel saw in his food pile was shelf-stable junk food and drinks. The air somehow felt more damp in here than it did outside with the rain. The chairs didn't have cushions, the floor didn't have carpet; everything was hard and cold and dark. She didn't even see a door for a bathroom in here. This was where Bill was staying?

"The Mystery Shack is safe for now," Bill said. "Just wait until Stanley decides to take another swing at me, or Dolores poisons my dinner again—or Ford changes his mind, dunks me in the bathtub, and doesn't let me back out."

"They wouldn't..." Mabel trailed off. She tried to imagine how mad Stan would be when he found out Bill was alive, and had to concede he might.

"Even if it was safe—why would I go back to that sorry makeshift prison?" Bill hopped up into one of the tilted alien chairs. There was a weird extended bit designed for alien anatomy that curved up at the end of the seat and forced Bill to straddle the chair rather than sit in it normally; it didn't look comfortable. "After almost a month and a half, I'm finally free!"

"Free inside a tiny bubble around the town," Mabel protested. "To live in a... weird little metal dirt room."

"Freely moving inside the entire barrier is a lot better than freely moving through half a shack! Surrounded by people who want me dead! I don't even get full privacy when I'm using the toilet—that's the bare minimum humans offer as basic respect! You don't know how many times I've been walked in on!"

"Do you even have a toilet here?"

Bill hesitated. "There's a—there are gas stations within walking distance."

"How are you gonna get into the restroom?"

"Fine, I'll dig a pit or something, all right? The point is, whatever I do, at least I can do it in freedom!"

He hadn't planned this through at all, Mabel realized. He'd only thought as far ahead as finding food and shelter that would last him the next couple of days. "But..." She gestured at the pathetic room around them. "The shack's got a proper roof and a shower and real food—wouldn't that be better than this?"

Bill scoffed "Only humans care about roofs and showers, and the idea of 'real' food is a social construct I reject!"

He'd be miserable here. Mabel couldn't let Bill do this to himself. "Then don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth?" She gave him a pleading look. "Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?"

There was a flash of light reflected in the dark as Bill's eyes turned away from Mabel.

"Bill?"

He didn't respond. He trudged past her, halfway up the walkway out of the ship, and stopped there, his back to Mabel, hands on his hips, staring out into the rain. He sighed. "Kid, you're trying to give me Stockholm syndrome."

"I don't know what that means."

"It means I'll think about it," Bill said, voice flat. "Go back to the shack."

Before Mabel could move, Bill said, "Hold on. Let me teach you that umbrella spell first." He turned and descended back into the ship. "And when's the last time you ate? Human bodies act pathetic if they don't get glucose every three hours. Get some lunch, it's a long bike back to the shack." He gestured at his meager food supplies.

She rummaged through the foil bags and colorful boxes and grabbed some Chipackers and sour gummy dolphins.

Bill sat near her, grabbed a bag of jerky for himself, and said, "And tell me about that concert you abandoned me to my doom for."

####

4:00 p.m.

Bill escorted Mabel down off the cliff—and, at her request, let her borrow the flashlight and wiggle the floating platform back and forth a little as they descended. He took back the flashlight when she nearly crashed the platform and killed them both.

"Where'd this come from?" Mabel asked, poking the stone. "Did the aliens make this, too?"

"Nope! This is good old local Earth magic. Ever hear of Caterpillar Man?"

"Is that some kind of superhero?"

"Afraid not. Well—ever hear of Grendel?"

"Uh-uh."

They were nearly at the ground now. "I think I'll tell you next time."

As the platform lifted him back up, Bill watched Mabel wheel her bike through the trees, slowly heading toward the main road back into town.

For a midsummer day, it was chilly in the rain.

####

Monday, 1:03 a.m.

And it was even chillier in the post-midnight dark when he knocked on the Mystery Shack's door.

####

(Eager to hear what y'all think now that you've seen the full story of how Bill survived—last week once Dipper and Mabel's roles were revealed, I think most folks thought that fully explained how Bill faked his death. ;) Next week is probably a double length chapter, because there's no graceful way to break it in half and also it'd be nice to get this plot arc wrapped up before The Book of Bill comes out lmao.)

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle ford #stanford pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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matrixbearer2024 · 4 days

Text

“Daddy dearest can't save you now squirt! You're mine!”

Aeschylus has nightmares about a familiar chaotic triangle we yeet around because LORE! I'm planning to make a comic about him waking up from the nightmare because holy SPAZZ he needs some good shit to recover and help with this.

More lore and context under the cut:

Way back when Aeschylus was a kid he used to adventure out of the shack and into the woods to explore and or bring back neat little critters to ask papa Sixer about(despite his mom having scolded them both about bringing random specimen of all kinds into the house). The behavior didn't really stop even after Ford got sucked into the portal, hell it happened more often because Max kept looking for his dad- convinced he just got lost on an expedition or something similar.

However, as you all know how Cipher messes with everyone's minds when granted the opportunity- the triangle tried to beeline for the kid that most resembled his darling Fordsy in both personality and behavior when the researcher finally grew wise to his shenanigans. He didn't really have many opportunities to for a couple years because of Stanley and Ford's wifey protectively hovering over the triplets but Bill would say waiting four earth years was well worth the return for the damage he had inflicted.

All it took was a little bit of stroking that same flame of curiosity as he did Sixer and Aeschylus was all his for the taking. Like father, like son, Bill couldn't have found it more amusing. Slowly he guided the kid deep into the forest, away from the eyes of mother mayhem and uncle irritating.

Much to the triangle's annoyance however, Aeschylus was more cautious of him than Ford ever was. The kid refused to make a deal with him and even tried running away at some point when he finally realised what the triangle was trying to do.

"Nu-uh! You're the weird guy that made my daddy crazy! My mommy says to never make a deal with you!"

Bill was pretty pissed at this point that his plans are being proper screwed with so he forced his hand.

"If you're not going to give me access to your head, I'll just take it then!"

Imagine having taken your eyes off your eldest toddler son for just a second only to find him suddenly gone. It took so much strength to even allow the kids outside of the cabin you called your home ever since Cipher started haunting you and the family since Ford's unfortunate incident with the portal. To find Aeschylus missing would've driven anyone at that point into a flurry of panic.

When Stan came out to check on the both of you, his expression of dread and anxiety merely mirrored your own to a lesser extent. The two of you immediately shouting for the kid as you checked the nearby area thoroughly, the both of you making your ways deeper into the forest surrounding the log cabin cautiously.

It was Stanley who found Aeschylus first, seeing the kid strung up high into the canopy was eerie enough but noticing he wasn't responsive made the panic shoot sky high. There was some kind of large furry creature that poked and swat around the young boy like a pinata which Stan immediately threw hands with the get rid of the darn thing in his emotional high.

You heard the screaming and shouting and rushed over before feeling sick to your stomach, there your kid was- but strung by the neck by a vine so high he seemed to nearly be a part of the forest canopy. You steeled yourself and pulled the small pistol from your pocket which your husband had made prior with the intention to use it for hunting creatures.

Who knew it's first use would be as a pivotal tool to save your son?

Despite shaky hands and eyes blurred with tears, your aim rang true and the ion blast burnt the vine clean a couple inches above the toddler's head. You didn't account for the tall drop however, as the priority was first and foremost to get him down before he was hung to death.

Thankfully, Stanley had been paying close attention as he managed to catch Aeschylus with a loud grunt. The kid was dropped on him like a bomb multiple times both literally and metaphorically but this moment falls under the former. Your stomach dropped to the floor when you also started to smell the familiar metallic tang of blood.

It wasn't rocket science for both you and Stanley to know that you needed to rush Aeschylus to the hospital, especially as the vine around his neck unwound to leave a large and nasty wound that seemed to circle around his entire neck. The vine itself was thorny and barbed but it had apparently dug deep enough into the kid's skin to cut.

Stanley drove to the hospital like a bat out of hell while you kept a towel firmly pressed into your son's neck in an attempt to stop the bleeding. The kid was breathing but shallowly, not to mention he was turning paler by the second.

You and Stan were never really religious, but you could both only really pray to whatever deity was up there if there even was any- to keep Aeschylus alive. You wondered how much your husband would've lost his shit had he been here, but you swallowed down the grief at the reminder of him as your in-law pulled into the ER parking lot.

Memories from that point on were a blur, you could only be grateful that despite the apparent tension between your husband and his twin brother- Stanley didn't just leave your family behind. He was expectedly dejected that he wasn't even told about the triplets getting born, much less his brother getting married, but he still stayed to care for you all in place of his brother. Not to replace him, but to do what he knew Poindexter would've and should've had he not been stuck wherever the portal threw him.

By the time you'd been able to see Aeschylus again, the doctors claim that it's a miracle the kid even survived. It's as if just enough pressure was put on his neck not to kill him but to make him suffer. He didn't pass out from oxygen deprivation, but from the pain.

You fell to your knees sobbing when you heard that, already knowing what or who was responsible rather because of their words. Aeschylus couldn't talk for a couple weeks due to this incident, and even afterwards his voice had changed due to the damage.

You regretted this moment every single day afterwards, all the more when your son even refused to step a foot outside anymore. He refused to explore the woods he once loved, the woods your family used to stroll by sunset or camp out in when Ford was still around.

Aeschylus started wearing high-collared shirts or turtlenecks to hide the scar as well, not telling anyone exactly why or how he got into that situation in the first place as everyone in the family already had an inkling or hunch. They didn't need to ask. He didn't want to be shifted to homeschool however, as much as you and Stan tried to convince him- since he seemed determined to study for whatever reason.

This event still gives Aeschylus nightmares until the present day, Bill Cipher didn't get into his head- but the triangle got damn well close and he would've had to pay his life if you or Stan hadn't found him.

Those same nightmares is why Aeschylus barely manages to sleep, having developed insomnia out of the fear and paranoia around the same time he was able to come home from the hospital. Even if you asked him now what was the scariest experience in his life, Aeschylus would likely mention this near death experience- as nothing else in his life has ever come quite close to this incident, not even weirdmaggedon.

Sketchy for this piece is here:

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lovelyladyabsinthewrites · 19 days

Note

Okay, i know you have request closed but if i don’t write it down I’ll forget. First love your soldier boy dad writing! I have binged it all now! But what if soldier boys comes back and he realizes his baby needs him cause homelander is like freaky obsessed with her. And like she meets with homelander or something and HL hurts her so she runs to her dad cause he’s the only one that can really protect her and soldier boy gets so mad at HL

I'm a sucker for dad!soldier boy and soldier girl 😭

Suddenly

Warnings: homelander being a creep, reader devastated that he isn't the brother she grew up with, hl giving off incesty vibes, papa soldier boy coming back into the picture, this time he's not going to disappoint his baby girl, dark themes, you've been warned, homelander giving ick vibes, assault, fighting back

Time in Russia had Ben coming to terms with cold, hard truths. By now Payback was never going to rescue him. Not like he'd hoped. Maybe due to his personality being on the constant 'dickhead' switch, no one was really in a hurry to save him. There was no leaving Russia alive for him. Another painful fact. Nowhere near as agonizing than the fact he'd royally fucked up as a parent. He didn't spend the time he should have with you and Homelander. Soldier Boy regrets not using a softer tone and hand with Homelander when he was disciplining the boy. Shouldn't have shooed you out of the way when all you wanted to do was show him a fucking picture you'd drawn.

He replays the last time he saw his kids. Your birthday was coming up soon. Your 18th birthday, a milestone. Soldier boy would never consider himself a sentimental man, but something in his battle weathered heart thawed and warmed that his little girl wasn't so little anymore.

You never asked for anything for your birthday. The most Soldier Boy would do (if not given a hint from Homelander as to what you'd want) is give you money and maybe a doughnut in lieu of an actual birthday cake. Regardless of what Soldier Boy bought you, you always gave him a genuinely grateful smile, appreciating that he was performing the bare minimum. Homelander's gifts always blew whatever Soldier Boy gave you out of the park anyway. He was the one who really knew you.

It dawned on him that he shouldn't have relied so heavily on his son to care for you when Homelander was a child himself. The two of you ended up developing an unhealthy attachment. Moreso Homelander than you (Vogelbaum had brought this to his attention some years ago).

An 18th birthday was something to fucking party about though. When Payback's military grade helicopter landed in Nicaragua, Soldier Boy had been thinking about where he'd hidden your special present. For once he was excited about something that didn't involve killing or fucking.

"Hey, earth to Ben." Your voice catches him off guard, pulling him from his dark revere.

He's not in Russia anymore.

He's not even in the same year as he had been when abducted.

Ben stares at you for a moment. That vacant stare of his has you going on guard just in case something triggered his PTSD.

You're older than 18 now. A full grown woman standing in a rundown, shitty little motel kitchenette. The pan you were using was set aside and you turn off the burners of the stove before facing your dad.

"You good?"

Blinking once, Soldier Boy shakes off whatever spell was cast over him. "Yeah. Yeah, sorry. What were you saying?"

You understood the moments of displacement you 'd feel when you realized your father was alive and right in front of you. He hadn't aged a single year since his supposed death that Stan Edgar convinced you happened. It was just so fucking weird.

"I was saying that I need to run out for an errand. Hughie and Butcher will be here if you need anything."

The usual Soldier Boy returns with a roll of his eyes. He exchanges a glance with Butcher who was intently watching Vought News in the armchair near the motel window. Butcher merely offers him a shrug.

You doubt he would actually need anything. The Boys hooked up your dad with several pounds of weed, alcohol and cigarettes that would last a normal person a lifetime. This was nothing to Soldier Boy. He would demolish it within a couple of days.

Hughie leans in to whisper in your ear "Are you sure you want to go back to Vought? Annie said she had everything under control over there."

Watching Soldier Boy eat his breakfast and taking a swig of some good old fashioned morning whiskey, you lower your voice so only Hughie could hear. "I love Annie and respect her, but I HIGHLY doubt even she has control in regards to Vought and the Seven."

Before leaving, you shoot the three of them a menacing look. "Behave. All of you."

You'd lied to Hughie though.

When Butcher returned from Russia with Soldier Boy and after the incident incident with Crimson Countess, you thought of the brother you used to know frequently. It wasn't long ago that Homelander had been your best friend. You hoped beyond all hope that you could bring that brother back.

You'd purchased a burner phone and, memorizing Homelander's personal number, called him. His immediate reaction was to curse you out, naturally. You let him before reminding him of the bond both of you built through years of surviving Soldier Boy's home together. Making something of yourselves without the looming shadow of your father. You'd told him that if there was any chance of reconciliation that he should meet you at a disclosed area. Just the both of you. There was guarded refusal. You could be luring him into a trap. Finish him off once and for all. And like the rest of the world, Homelander didn't believe you when you finally told him that Soldier Boy was alive.

That was enough for Homelander to agree.

One might consider you paranoid by the many times you'd looked over your shoulder as you flew to the top of Vought Tower. A semi-public place where if a struggle ensued, many people would be tipped off below. You'd also have more options of escape in the open air.

The door to the top of the roof opens. You stand taller and square your shoulders off.

Homelander lets the door fall closed behind him. His strides to you are slow and calculated, imitating a predatory animal circling a scrumptious morsel of meat. Blue eyes dart around you, assuring himself you didn't bring any unwelcome visitors.

"He's really alive?'' Was Homelander's greeting.

You toss him the cheap burner phone that was capable of taking subpar pictures. Homelander eyes you before leaning down to pick up the flip phone. His lower lid twitches when he makes out Soldier Boy in the picture sitting across from Butcher at some small table.

Adam's apple bobbing, Homelander's expression difficult to read. "How?"

"Apparently the Russians had him. Payback was working with them as well as Vought to get rid of Soldier Boy." Would he believe you?

Scoffing, he tosses back your phone but there's no point in keeping it anymore. You crush it in your grip, fingers opening to let the crumbled remnants be carried away by the wind.

"John, please. I miss my brother." The man in front of you was a stranger wearing your brother's face.

He tilts his chin up. "You're the one who ruined us. YOU fucked right off to join William Butcher and his band of miscreants. And its you who has no one to blame but yourself."

"John-"

He's fast, his hand inches away from grabbing your face before you dodge out of the way, deftly avoiding him. His temper has grown worse, you observe, since you left the Seven. Homelander was already on a rapid decline mentally after killing Madelyn Stillwell. Your abandonment was simply icing on top of the shitty cake.

You had to tread VERY lightly around him.

What was your aim for this interaction? Homelander would never leave Vought or the Seven nor would he want to join you and the other vigilantes. Hell, the Boys would never accept him.

You wanted to see for yourself if there was any piece left of your childhood within him.

Starting into his red rimmed eyes, you saw nothing of the boy who held your hand as the both of you crossed the street to get to school. He was gone.

"You" He points a red gloved finger in your direction "betrayed me."

He won't listen to reason.

"I didn't want to." You whisper, recalling the moments when Homelander actually made you feel unsafe just before you made the decision to leave. How he'd started to stare at you for an uncomfortably long time. His simple, innocent gestures and caresses were becoming. . . worrisome.

You'd thought it was just you imagining things. Homelander was just like that with you. He practically raised you after all. Homelander was the one to make your sack lunch for school. The one who got you ready, choosing your clothes for the day and braiding your hair.

His touches had changed though. They lingered and tightened on you, becoming possessive with each passing day since Stillwell's murder.

There was an instance when he'd captured your face in both his hands. You'd thought maybe there was something on your face, remnants of lunch, but no. He'd nearly kissed you full on the lips. For once you're grateful for the Deep popping up out of nowhere. It was the only thing that had Homelander dropping your face and returning to a semi-normal facade.

You see that Homelander right in front of you. The one that made your stomach curdle and goosebumps prickling upon your arms.

"I never thought you'd become an ungrateful bitch." With each step he took closer to you, you took another one back. "You're mine. You have always been mine from the moment Soldier Boy brought you home, you've been mine." His hands kept clenching up as if he was trying to will restraint in himself.

You're ready for a fight.

What you aren't ready for was Homelander being faster in grabbing your arms so you couldn't escape and smashing his lips against your's. You feel yourself scream as a struggle begins. He's trying to keep you in his arms, pull you down to the ground. His kiss turns aggressively desperate with teeth biting down on your lower lip when you try to turn your face away.

Heart rate freaking out, you go by pure animal instinct to get out of Homelander's hold. Your teeth sink down into his forearm, tearing cloth and skin alike. Letting out a howl, Homelander throws you to the ground, reeling back to examine the sizeable bite mark you gave him. He wasn't used to seeing his own blood.

He forgot that he should have been just as fearful of you as you were with him and his own powers.

The stickiness of his blood covers your mouth as you glare at him.

Since the brother you once loved was no longer present in Homelander, you weren't afraid anymore of pulling punches.

You stand up to your full height and feel the heat of your lasers burn in the back of your eyes.

Homelander seemed to match your feelings as his heated glare literally shines from his eyes. "I'm not letting you get away to go back to him."

"That's unfortunate. I've got no plans on staying here." You snarl and just as you levitate off of the ground, Homelander is grabbing you by the ankle and tries to slam you back down.

He could easily rip your leg off.

Your panicked jerking manages to free you from his grasp.

Like a bullet you take off across the sky. Looking back every so often just to make sure he wasn't following you. He wouldn't dare to make a scene where civilians can easily spy the both of you from the ground.

You're certain you've broken a few records by how fast you flew across the city to get back to the hideout.

Nearly ripping the motel door of it's hinges, you startle the men in there. Hughie gapes at the actual bruises developing on your face and the red smear across your mouth. Everything about you must have looked a horrifying mess.

Soldier Boy stands from where he'd been sitting on the bed. Eyes wide as he takes you in. "What the fuck happened to you?" He's the first one to take action and go to you.

Looking at him now, the feelings you'd tried pushing back start trickling forth. You realize Homelander had not just physically assaulted you, but it had nearly turned into a sexual assault too.

You damn the tears that well up your eyes, distorting the image of your father. "I. . . John. . ."

"John? John did this to you?" The words felt hollow coming out of his mouth as he stood in a daze. Homelander had harmed you? That didn't sound right. Then again, a lot had changed.

Mentioning Homelander's birth name caught the others' attention.

You touch your mouth where Homelander had kissed you. You realize the blood around your lips may not just be Homelander's blood. Where he'd bitten your lower lip is a tender gash that is also leaking red.

"Sit down. You're shaking." Soldier Boy, taking on the role of a caring father (and surprising everyone with his gentle tone) pushes past Butcher and Hughie who helplessly watch. Using your shoulders to guide you to the arm chair, your dad sits you down. He kneels in front of you to get a good look at the wounds all over you. "Tell me what he did."

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you're focused on your hands and the specks of red on them. "He tried- I don't know. . . He. . ."

Gently, Soldier Boy uses his index finger to raise your face up. "Tell me, baby girl."

That got you. The tears were now freely rolling down your face when you meet similar blue eyes. "I wanted to see if there was anything left of the brother I knew." You whimper, voice warbling. "Dad. . . he didn't try to kill me. He tried doing something worse."

Ben's eyes widen, as if dots were being connected. His soft demeanor which he'd revealed just to you hardens into something ugly. You didn't like how quiet the motel room had become.

You flinch when Soldier Boy attempts to hug you. He stops and not wanting to upset you further, didn't try again. You're the one who wraps your arms around him.

Fiercely, Soldier Boy returns the embrace.

"I promise you, I won't ever let him lay a hand on you again." He feel his jaw tighten as he snarls out. "The next time I see him, I'm going to kill him."

#reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #the boys series #the boys #the boys imagine #the boys x reader #the boys tv #the boys amazon #the boys homelander #homelander the boys #the boys prime #soldier girl au #dad soldier boy #soldier boy the boys #soldier boy imagines

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redwolfxx · 2 months

Text

if he died

(Gun x reader)

Tw: death

Summary: Title

A/N: i'm a gun stan 🫣 can't help myself, he's too fine, sorry for all the angst - such a mood killer, gonna have to right something happier this makes me feel like 💩😭😭

If he was killed

It was late and he was still out. He'd normally be back by now, dragging himself in through the door, body, likely littered in cuts and bruises, nothing ever fatal. He'd walk in and lightly brush past you, kidding your forehead on his way to the bathroom to clean up.

But he wasn't. At first you'd try and reason with yourself, maybe the job was farther away than normal. Maybe he was out with Goo again at one of those god awful karaoke bars they'd try to drag you to.

But by now hours had passed and he still wasn't home. Texts and calls unanswered. You knew you couldn't ask Goo as the two weren't exactly on good terms at this point, but you didn't have another choice.

As you scrolled to his contact, the doorbell rang out through your apartment. Ah, he was home.

As you went to greet him you stopped. He has a key.

Quickly you go to grab the metal baseball bat you kept in the hallway closet. As you grew closer you carefully looked through the peephole.

It was Goo.

Hesitant, you opened the door. At first he didn't say anything, he wouldn't meet your gaze.

You tried to invite him in but he wouldn't even look up.

Eventually he looked up and opened his arms to hug you. Yes, Goo, hugging, you.

You begin barraging him with questions about what he was doing, why he was there, etc, and most importantly where was Gun.

But he wouldn't answer, his only response was to hold you tighter as you began crying out your questions, occasionally hitting his chest in a pathetic attempt to force him to say it, to tell you it was a joke.

But he didn't.

Once you had calmed down he had apologized out of pity.

After he left you closed the door behind him, locking yourself away.

Friends calls went unanswered and texts unread as you cried out for a ghost that wouldn't come home.

His lawyer would come one day, reading to you, his last wishes. Explaining how title transfers and money transfers to you would work.

At first you'd refuse telling him that Gun was alive and he must've gone into hiding and he'd be back. The man only looked at you with a gaze of knowing pity for you.

Eventually when affairs were settled you'd visit his grave in Japan, it was on his family home estate, that his father still owned. You'd met him a long time ago when you'd visited Japan with Gun. He had invited you up to see his final resting place to give you a chance to properly grieve.

You'd sat on the bench by his grave, it was fancy and expensive, not a speck of dust, not a mar of imperfection. It was him. With that you'd cry, you'd cry to him asking him why he'd go and get himself killed. Why he'd left you without saying goodbye. And you'd cry because you loved him. You'd cry because he'd never comeback, you'd cry because you could.

The attendants had left you to cry in peace, but you felt their gazes watching you, some pitiful, some criticizing, and some jealous. But you'd paid them no mind.

Once you had your good share of crying, you sat there. Starring at his name. Starring at him.

Eventually you'd return back to Korea, back to your shared apartment, back to the real world.

You'd have to go back to the same cruel routine without him to ground you. You'd have to go on alone.

If he died of natural causes

(be fr he has so many enemies 😭)

You'd grown old together, and had shared a life, a home, one love.

When the two of you were old enough you'd both move to Japan together where you'd work a regular 9-5 for a while, while he ran his Yakuza.

Eventually he'd convince you it was too dangerous to work without his protection and you'd retire to focus on your hobbies and spend his money as you wished.

You'd have kids together and you'd do your best to try and keep them away from what their father did but boys'll be boys and your son would be drawn to what his father did, and would become successor to Gun. Your daughter would go abroad to study, going on to work and start a new life in the States.

You'd grow old together, his love for you as obvious as ever and never growing thin. As they say, time makes the heart grow fonder, and it did. You'd enjoy dates to fancy restaurants and simple shops around the world.

You'd watch your kids have kids and you'd watch your son pry Gun away from the fighting and push him into retirement with you.

You'd buy a place in the country, away from the noise, away from people. You'd have a garden out front and a lake behind your place to yourselves. Occasionally friends and family would visit, and you'd find joy together in the peace.

Your home would be decorated with random wood figures he'd make in this newfound free time.

And eventually when the time was right the two of you would pass. Your final resting places next to each other for eternity. Whether he went first or you, didn't matter to time as the other of you two followed soon after.

You'd live lives without much regret, you had lived together and you had died together. Your love was eternal.

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

Note: i love him so much i'm actually gonna lose it if he goes (no spoilers, im only up to date w the webtoon app chapters)

#lookism #lookism x reader #x reader #gun x reader lookism #jonggun x reader #lookism gun x reader #park jonggun #jong gun x reader

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alornights · 2 years

Text

⟢ popular

➜ in which ! they're best friends with the most popular kid.

💌 ﹫eric cartman, kyle broflovski, wendy testaburger, craig tucker, bebe stevens.

✩ 🎸 warnings﹗manipulation, blackmail, & ruined reputations.

🍓 ⟡ notes — yipeee south park, please send requests. i'm desperate.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ eric cartman.

bros the type to just be friends with you for his own gain and interests. what did u expect from this mf?

he wants interesting gossip about one of your friends because they called him fat when he was so obviously ripped? he'll get it.

also uses this friendship to get big-ass leverage on people.

someone like you? he tells them he's your best friend and that if they don't pay him every day, he puts in a bad word for them. if they do pay him, he'll make sure you "hear about this person".

someone trying to dethrone you from the most popular, he's "helping them" when in reality he's just telling you all the info so you help him in the future.

cartman wants someone's entire reputation ruined? tells you they were chatting absolute bullshit about you and by the next day they have no friends and end up moving out of south park.

if you were actually friends with him. power fucking duo. no one was stopping him from doing whatever he wanted.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ kyle broflovski.

for a good month this guy thought he was that bitch.

everyone wanted to be his friend, the girls loved him (even more than before), and he was gaining tons of friends.

loved gossiping to you about people who tried sweet talking to him to get your favor and people who threatened you.

he would not let anyone take your throne bro, he didn't care if cartman thought he was some kind of slave.

one time just for funsies he got you to ruin cartman's reputation (if he even had one), no one talked to him for a good week.

would ask you for some help talking to a girl. next thing you know after he used a flirting technique girls were fighting over him.

unknowingly you were also helping ikes reputation

so kyle thinks you are some kind of god now. yipee

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ wendy testaburger.

she was never so thankful to have a popular friend.

you deal with most of the bullshit she has to get through.

cartman is saying wendy killed the smurfs? you tell the entire school he still plays with smurf dolls at home while roleplaying.

the whole school for a week picks on cartman for that.

was one of your ogs who helped you around the school when you first came so you do her all sorts of favor.

even if they stem from jealousy over stan....

yeah.. making a girl so isolated in school over a rumor you started that she went insane and was sent to a mental hospital.

you help her a lot with trying to figure out how to make the school better since you've heard many complaints from students.

convinces you to join the cheer team so people will start supporting the sports teams they cheer for.

all in all, your biggest supporter and ally.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ craig tucker.

what a perfect pair. one of the most popular kids paired with another popular kid. whos surprised.

will gossip to you about anyone whos fake and has talked shit about you and you do the same in return.

helping him get any dirt on team stan.

probably has gotten you to deal with girls who were trying to get with him while he helps you deal with weirdos.

trusts you a lot as someone who knows how fake people are.

while he doesn't ask you to ruin peoples reputation he does ask for any blackmail you can get from your friends.

calls your friends your dogs.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ bebe stevens.

being the most popular girl had so many perks.

for example, actually ruling over the school. you even had your own room for the two of you after school.

people would line up just to get stuff out of the two of you.

cartman waited in line for 2 hours just for the two of you to deny him any blackmail about kyle and wendy.

stan had to wait an hour just for the two of you to break the sad news of wendy getting with tolkien. L

girls were so jealous of the two of you because all the guys at school wanted to be with you.

got so bad there was a whole war between the ladies.

the two of you had so much power that pc principal is kind of scared of yall and lets you do almost whatever you want.

the two of you are strongwoman's fav.

people think you two are their love child because you are kind of similar to them. pc and having his loyal frat dogs and strong woman's strength and influence on the ladies.

so maybe just maybe if you two wanted someone expelled because they dissed you, the two would expel them.

maybe.

#south park x reader #wendy testaburger x reader #eric cartman x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #bebe stevens x reader #craig tucker x reader

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hogwartslegacyreactions2 · 5 months

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biased as always, the number one Anne Stan, ofc i gotta christen this returned account with my girl <3

hlc react to mc developing a crush on anne? from the consistent visits to feldcroft to the occasional outing that mc can take her on, it’s obvious they’re growing to be a little more than friends…

A/N: Anne Sallow simping content coming right up lol

HLC REACT TO MC CRUSHING ON ANNE SALLOW

It all started the day Sebastian introduced MC to her. Even with her tired eyes, they were enraptured by her sweet voice and good nature despite being in such pain. Even if Anne was convinced there was no real help for her, MC was determined to make life just a bit more enjoyable.

At first, It was letters with little gifts. Those turned into visits without Sebastian tailing them. Eventually, sneaking Anne out of the house for some "fresh air." Even without Sebastian around, her uncle was rather unpleasant. Always hovering, to the point of being overbearing.

Their most memorable date outing by far has to have been when MC offered to fly her up the hill on their broom to overlook Feldcroft. She sat sidesaddle on the handle in front of MC and she held on to them as they gently glided up into the air. MC struggled to focus on where they were going having her so close.

So close in fact, that if MC hadn't been so distracted, maybe they would have heard the faint but distinctive whisper of ancient magic coming from the scar on her side.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He gets suspicious when MC starts asking too many Anne centric questions. Then he gets REAL suspicious when he walked in on MC and Anne playing wizard's chess. He hadn't announced that he was going, so he was shocked to see MC with his sister alone.

Protective Brother™ mode activated. What were they playing at? His sister had enough to deal with right now, she didn't need MC drooling all over her. He doesn't fall for any of MC's excuses, no one visits Anne more than he does, not even her old school friends. There was no way MC's intentions were "just being friendly".

He keeps an eagle eye out for MC. If he can't find them anywhere, he goes straight to Feldcroft to break up the fraternizing. Anne will have to tell him off multiple times.

OMINIS GAUNT: He doesn't know this is going on until Anne casually mentions it in her letters. This....he struggles with this. Anne is very special to him. They'd been close since first year, she was one of his first and few friends and now she...she seems so...taken by MC.

He wrestles with his own pride and self loathing. He should have said something sooner. He should have told her how much he....it didn't matter now. MC was braver. She doesn't deserve a coward like him anyway. He's happy she's happy. That's all that matters...right?

IMELDA REYES: She knew Anne. They were on the Slytherin quidditch team together before Anne fell ill. She reads about Anne and MC in letters and snorts. She advises Anne to not be so quick to admire MC, they aren't that amazing.

NATSAI ONAI: She finds it absolutely adorable. MC always thinks of Anne, constantly asking her if Anne will like what they've found or bought. Even asks for advice, not that she knows much about relationships, but she tries her best.

GARRETH WEASLEY: He gets nosey, seeing MC almost always nose deep in a letter that smells floral with a touch of birch. He'll poke fun that they're infatuated with their special pen pal and not so subtly imply that he has the perfect potion in mind if they want to speed things along. *Wink*

LEANDER PREWETT: Anne who? Sebastian's sister? Pfffft, good luck with that. Sebastian is a bulldog when it comes to family. Very protective, almost possessive.

AMIT THAKKAR: He first realizes that MC is acting strange when they started daydreaming heavily in class. Even in the more interesting classes. What's got them all starry-eyed and distracted from learning? ....he should have known. A girl.

EVERETT CLOPTON: He hears about it second hand from someone else who heard MC and Sebastian going at it over MC seeing Anne without supervision. Rumors spread like wildfire, especially when the arguably most interesting person at Hogwarts apparently developed a crush on Sallow's sister and was sneaking around with her. Made for very juicy gossip.

POPPY SWEETING: She hears about it through the rumor mill as well and tells MC to fly in on a hippogriff next time. That always impresses the ladies, trust her on this.

ANNE SALLOW: MC brought some color back into her life. They wanted to know all about her, they showered her with gifts, and would come to see her even without reason. She caught on fast that MC fancied her and she had fun playing coy.

Oh, MC wants to know what she likes for her birthday? What an odd, totally random question. MC has been staring at her for the last five minutes, not realizing she's stopped talking, how interesting. She loved pointing out MC's blatantly odd behavior and watching them fluster within an inch of their life. It's the Slytherin in her, she thinks it's funny.

When MC starts asking for more private outings, that's when she really starts to feel special. MC was willing to accommodate her in any way she needed. If she grew exhausted from a walk, they would carry her back. If she was having a particularly rough day with the curse, they'd tend to her hand and a foot, almost fussing as much as Sebastian. Almost.

The time MC flew her up the hill to the lookout, she felt herself falling, in the figurative sense. MC may have fallen for her first, but she fell harder. Holding on to them as they flew, she couldn't take her eyes off their face. She almost kissed them. She didn't, however, miss the fact that her scar hurt a lot less that day.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy reactions #hl #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #anne sallow #imelda reyes #natsai onai #garreth weasley #leander prewett #amit thakkar #everett clopton

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jheselbraum · 1 month

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can we talk about the apprenticeship again? i wanna talk about the apprenticeship again (people online are scaring me bringing back the "ford didn't really care about dipper/his family/placed them below his Greater Good" discourse again ☹️ feels like we need a refresher)

The apprenticeship was about Ford wanting a friend and buddy! It was about Ford reaching out to his family the only way he knew how! The second he and Stan were on good terms again he immediately wanted to spend time with him. The apprenticeship was Ford wanting to spend more time with his family because he doesn't think anyone will want to spend time with him without some sort of scientific endeavor to catch their fancy, and while I always thought that if Mabel had simply asked to stay too Ford would've said yes after reading tbob I am firmly convinced that if Mabel asked to also stay in Gravity Falls with him he would've started crying. And this whole "catch their fancy with an apprenticeship instead of just asking them to hang out" thing carries over to Stan where he asks Stan to go with him to fucking Antarctica to dig up Time Baby or whatever the fuck, when what he actually wants is to just finally go on the damn boat trip with Stan!

The only thing particularly wrong with the apprenticeship offer is that while it's Ford's way of reaching out, because of who he offered it to and when it would effectively mean passing on his tendency to close himself off to Dipper, Mabel, and Stan, as each of them would be alone. This effect is reversed when Ford offers the same deal to Stan, who at the end of summer would otherwise be returning to his lonely life before he met the kids, so now at the end of summer neither Dipper and Mabel nor Stan and Ford are alone. It's weird to hold that against him since that's how conflict in a story works and the payoff of Ford wanting to go travel the world with Stan at last is weaker if we weren't presented with the first option of Ford wanting to remain in the basement with Dipper cataloging mushroom samples forever.

And at the end of tbob, Dipper, Mabel, and Stan are so fucking supportive of Ford, literally laughing off his worries about his biggest insecurity (in a positive way). They don't care that he made a deal with Bill, they don't care how much he fumbled Fiddleford, they don't care about the fucking apprenticeship! They love him and they're glad he's okay!

The solution to Ford's problems, past and present, has always been reaching out. The correct action for Ford to take, whether or not he takes it, has always been reaching out.

Ford didn't reach out when Stan was kicked out. He didn't reach out when Fiddleford left the project. He only reached out to Stan when he realized Bill's abuse and manipulation when things got truly dire, life threatening, not just to himself but when Bill made it clear that he could and would hurt the people Ford cared about, too, at least emotionally. And then finally after a lifetime of closing himself off and putting up walls, he actually honest to goodness reaches out to his family (or rather, they reach out to him) and it wouldn't make any sense if building and maintaining those connections didn't finally pay off for Ford. His life is better for having formed those connections! The Pines' lives are better for having those connections as well! Stan has his brother, his twin! Dipper has a mentor figure who shares his love of mysteries! Mabel has a companion who fosters her outgoing spirit and shares her creative interests! One of the show's big themes is family, why are we acting like Dipper and Mabel should reject a member of their family who, like Stan, is a gruff old bastard who's made his share of mistakes but god damnit if those kids aren't the light of his life?

#stanford pines #gravity falls #book of bill spoilers

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potatoqueensays · 12 days

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May I humbly request you elaboraremos om the Bill = Ford in your reverse falls? I am deeply interested 👀

WOHOHOHOH YES!!!! YOU SHALL!!

Thank you for your interest!!!

This makes me super excited to talk about, tbh he deserves his own post anyway!! Cause hoo boy there's a lot to unpack!! Forgive me for all the words, takes a lot to get to the main stuff.

Also thank you to @danklemckspankle for helping with a lot of the details. It's a collaborative project 💪

Let's get into it, shall we??

So! Ford in this au didn't get his science fair project wrecked by Stanley. Now Stan did drop it, but funny enough, to Stan's hopes it did work. Now that might sound like a copout, but it actually is a very damning event for Ford.

Ford gets the scholarship, and goes to West Coast Tech. He thrives, but amongst all these other geniuses he's just another face in the crowd. Now he's busy at school, but he doesn't get the research grant for Gravity Falls because he's just another smart guy.

He returns home after college and his father is expecting him to have millions and already have a job and a bunch of money. But Ford tells him that he's looking into it and doesn't have anything yet. He needs to stay at home until he can get an opportunity, but his father doesn't take too kindly to that. He kicks Ford out. Unknown to Ford, Stan isn't waiting at home due to also being kicked out. So Ford thinks his whole family abandoned him. He thinks Stan is out adventuring the world. So he's all alone without a place to stay.

Ford has already heard of Gravity Falls, even going as far to write a thesis on the weirdness of the town. But it wasn't what the college wanted, and they even went as far as to reject the thesis and the request for a research grant. So now Ford is stuck.

He does odd jobs around the states and winds up in Gravity Falls. One of those jobs landed him a place in the town. Now he hasn't commissioned Boyish (not yet Manly) Dan to make the shack yet, so he couch surfs. He does research on the side for Gravity Falls, eventually finding a cave painting of a weird zodiac and a triangle.

He summons Bill, and they make a deal for Ford to make a portal for him. Ford requests that he has a partner in knowledge and power in return. They shake on it. You need to understand that Bill isn't yet all sad boy in this as he is in the original au, cause it'd be a bit hard to change an integral part of him. Just bear with me for now!

Now Ford isn't well acquainted on the engineering side of things, so he's in a bit of a pickle.

But!! Lucky for Ford, there's a southern hick a couple states away that matches his smarts! A scientist named Fiddleford McGucket made a personal computer that while expensive, Ford managed to get his hands on! This guy seems promising, so Ford reaches out to him with a request and shares his thesis on Gravity Falls to hopefully drag him in.

McGucket loves it! So they agree to work in Gravity Falls together and they build the portal.

On the side however, Ford is talking with Bill. He fills his head with dreams and visions of acknowledgement. It's everything he's needed and more. It kinda goes to his head as he ignores personal needs like eating in return for the dreams. The dapper dorito eats up the seeming gullibility of the scientist. Inflating his ego to the damn heavens at this point.

Ford and McGucket have been arguing on the side as the research gets back seated. After a test with the portal, McGucket falls in and sees what's on the other side. He tells Ford something is wrong with the project and goes radio silent for a couple weeks before returning back in hopes of convincing Ford the dangers and hoping to see it through.

At this point it's important to note the Gremloblin incident didn't happen so the memory gun has not been made. Despite McGucket's hopes the portal is almost finished at this point and it seems like it's all Ford cares about.

Eventually an altercation arises as McGucket realizes Ford is not stopping. He tries to tell Ford of the danger and what he saw. He says he misses time with his family and wants to go home. Nothing is right anymore and he's being plagued daily with nightmares and declining mental health.

Ford is fed up at this point. He comes to a realization, that everyone has only ever told him what he can and can't do. This is his one shot, a chance to make everyone see. Everyone see him.

He pushes McGucket into the portal.

Oopsies. That's a problem!! Welp. He has no assistant now. Now granted, Bill is real happy for interruption being gone, but good ol' Sixer doesn't work with engineering. Someone else has to step in!

So Bill gets on his case now. Even tho McGucket has been dealt with, the portal isn't finished! So he threatens him, simple threats really. Stealing eyes, puncturing holes in a lung, just basic stuff.

Suffice to say Ford isn't happy about this. He's being rushed, and he already had a hell of a reawakening. So he starts to get back at Bill for his harping. Using his power to harness the portal. Experiments to see how he interacts with the world, testing the limits of Bill's body. All under the guise of research. On a...base level of course! All research is important, but Bill has become an obstacle on his own.

Bill was never his muse, just....a means to an end.

So Ford calls Stanley. Of course he doesn't forgive him for not asking about him, but that doesn't matter now. There's more important things to tend to. His brother has actually ended up making money, if the number of commercials he's seen on the television says anything.

He keeps Stanley at arms length, never actually letting him see the portal. Vague explanations of an important project, he just needs Stan's funding and some parts, he can handle the heavy lifting. Lest someone meddle into his work again

He has another side project on his mind, a little bunker somewhere in the woods of the town. In case of a cataclysmic event, or man eating creatures. Do he gets Stanley to help build it for him. Floor planning, parts, doors, tech and all that.

The interactions between them are kept to a minimum, to keep from bothersome questions and meddling. Eventually Stan has enough from the cold treatment and backs out, saying he's got better things to tend to. (In a future post I'll probably elaborate more on Stan :] )

So Stanley leaves. Keep in mind it's the 90s now, and even if technology improves, this isn't a one man job. No matter how much Bill likes to say he's support. You could say Ford is more focused on the portal than Bill, who had the idea in the first place! But whatever, it'll all be worth it once it's done.

He figures maybe he could do this alone, the last two people turned out to be hindrances, so maybe for a year or two he could try his luck.

Of course he gets side tracked with messing with Bill, with his harping on the portal growing less and less. He even....starts to slowly change color? Growing less yellow and more dull. That's something to research more! His research is definitely not humane, but Bill isn't human! He's a triangle! So what does it matter? This won't have repercussions!!

When Bill possesses his body from time to time, he tries to mess with him, but it weirdly doesn't deter Ford, only spurs him forward. Anything to test the limits of Bill. For science!

The couple years of working alone don't prove at all very helpful. Unfortunately, it looks to be like he needs a new assistant and he needs to get back on track. That bunker won't make itself!

So he calls someone new. The last two people proved to only be hindrances, and he actually went easy on Stanley all things considered. But he needs to be more hands on!

So he calls a lady who just moved to Gravity Falls with her husband, someone unaccustomed and unbiased. A one, Mrs. Gleeful.

She is decent enough as an assistant, proving actual decent company. Being that she doesn't question the work or interrupt. She does what is asked, serving coffee if needed, or getting spare parts.

It lasts up until late 2003, where she reveals she's having a child with her husband. She needs maternity leave, but she claims it won't interfere! So long as she swears.

She has her child the next year, but something changes. A couple months after, she makes the same claims of her family needing her. Claiming they're more important than the project.

This doesn't go on well. A spark goes off in Ford's brain. The last time this was brought up it didn't go well. So he digs up old blueprints, something he was working on when McGucket was around.

He erases parts of her memory when he calls her back. Her thoughts of her family are gone, they don't exist in her brain anymore. He tells her they're roommates working on a project, and convinces her to stay.

If she questions him or asks about her family he erases her memories again, and again, and again.

This goes on for a year, and eventually her mind turns to mush. Leaving her a crazed shaky husk of a sensible woman. She is too crazed to work with anymore, so he kind of sets her free like an animal. Throwing her into the woods for whatever creature out there.

Word reaches round of a missing woman relating to a researcher. This naturally reaches Stanley's ears for his penchant for gossip. He tries not to assume the worst and visits Ford.

Ford is so sucked into his work, solidifying his previous belief of doing work on his own. The portal is just one move away from opening, Bill has shut up, and no one is in his way.

Until Stanley. He visits, and sees the man Ford has turned into, and all hope he ever had is gone. He decides to needs to do something about this, stop whatever his twin is up to.

He leads him to the bunker to talk. But when his fears are confirmed true, he punches him. Brass knuckles reluctantly worn. The altercation results in cracked glasses and shards of glass cutting an eye, Ford goes blind in his left eye.

With the man injured, Stanley leaves the bunker and closes it, locking his brother in. No amount of begging or yelling will get Stan to open the door.

During the time he was alone, Ford had a creature in the bunker to study. It was thought to be too dangerous, but that same claim doesn't hold up anymore.

He still has the contract with Bill. So the two are trapped with Ford. The only ones to talk to for 7-8 years. He pushes his anger onto Bill, and talks to the Shapeshifter in spare time. The only beings to talk to for so long does things to your brain. Not good.

So when eventually two young kids open the bunker, he has some plans to set in motion, particularly considering a certain triangle.

So!!! That's the overall idea, ofc to elaborate on more when I talk about the mystery twins and Stan since that could tie more things in. And also weirdmageddon (normageddon? Fordmageddon?) would have to be it's own thing.

But uhhh, art!!

This was a little idea of what Ford would look like post bunker, or after getting out. (Ignore the lack of sideburns this is all I have rn)

Bill changes his name shortly before the mystery twins summon him, cause like. Oof. Separate himself from the guy that outcrazied him!!

Probably a future post about Bill would be better, cause like the physical, emotional, and mental torture he went through is kinda glossed through in this. It's mostly Ford heavy and on his side of things.

But!!! I had fun establishing all this, again my friend is to thank for a lot of this stuff. I recommend following or sending an ask to get his side of this!!

Also apologies for the wall of text, this man is a loaded gun.

Oh also he couldn't have gotten out of the bunker since it remained semi unfinished, since Ford focused more on the portal. So he's trapped until into the bunker 🤷‍♀️

Thank to again for the ask, this was probably a doozy to get through lmao 🫶

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #reverse falls #rehash reverse falls au #stanford pines #bill cipher #THEY ARENT SHIPPED IN THIS BTW!!!! VERY IMPORTANT!!!!#what's displayed between them is very unhealthy abuse. even tho its against bill its still abuse #anyway sorry this took so long. loooots of writing #feel free to ask for more or whatever!! hopefully ill make a full ref of ford. ough.

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yuujiheart · 4 months

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My thoughts on the possible gojo's return as yuji and sukuna stan.

Tbh I had no intention of writing this because the chp itself doesn't have much to discuss except that last panel.. It was another todo and yuji masterclass which I think everybody expected. Todo proved why he is such a good brother and him tricking sukuna effectively made me wonder about the accuracy of his theory on resonance. Although I did feel sad that todo didn't ask sukuna about his type lol..

About that last panel before I comment on it I want to share my honest thoughts that I had when gojo died. I expected it and his afterlife scene was perfect for me except for two things.

Him not remembering his students especially yuji when he literally wanted to damage sukuna for yuji's sake during the fight..

Him not having a single flashback not during his fight with sukuna and not with his students after his death..

These two things were really odd but at the same time i also don't believe that to solve them it's necessary for him to be alive. But there is one thing I was sure of and that is his job as the strongest was done.. And now it's up to Yuji and his students to carry it further.

So, in all honesty I am neutral towards this reveal.. Because after seeing yuji's progress and the revelations atp I don't think gege is going to shift focus on gojo.. Like we all know it's yuji who possess the ability to separate megumi from sukuna and is weakening sukuna's rct and ce output. It's not something gojo can do. Moreover there is no way gojo is coming back without being nerfed... That is if he actually comes back....

Of course there are talks about it being other possibilities and some of them are really convincing but I am not talking about them as we will know about it eventually in next chap.

What actually irritated me and prompted me to write this was the discourse happening around it, from yuji fans worrying about gojo stealing yuji's shine ,fans already declaring sukuna on the verge of death and the worst of all is that sukuna remembering gojo as he taught him love which is the most ridiculous claim I have heard from not just shippers but general fans too..

It's actually so ridiculous because readers know it's yuji who has caused any change in sukuna not gojo.. Sukuna literally chided gojo and kashimo for wanting love and made fun of them and then immediately declared that love is worthless is enough to tell that he recognizes the effort but doesn't intend to indulge in that at all... Gojo tried to reach him out through strength which sukuna rejected. It's the truth that people need to know.

I don't know why people want to think sukuna is on the verge of death lol.. We had not had his ct reveal at all and hiten. And I think people either forget or don't want to recognize that sukuna is not just a villain. he is equally important to the plot too just like yuji. He isn't dying at least in this way.

Although the reveal that todo being there to help yuta kill kenjaku kinda was funny because yuta fans wanted to convince everyone that he speed blitzed kenjaku and killed him only for them to be wrong.

I definitely believe that gege is really doing something that we will love. he hasn't disappointed before and he won't now... If anything now I am actually excited about what possibly could it be and what it means for our cast. As I am not going to let myself sway by the opinions of others.

#atp gojo coming back or not is same thing #its upto gege how he. makes it interesting if he actually brings him #and no gojo is not the who taught sukuna love #its fkking annoying when some gojo fans keep lying about things.#jjk leaks #jjk spoilers #jjk260 #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #ryomen sukuna #itadori yuuji #sukuna

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kestalsblog · 10 days

Text

Stan/Kyle/Cartman Drabble 🗻🌲

I needed a break, so I gave myself a reward of writing some today. I was struck with this scene a little while ago. I'd been wanting to try Style for a while, but I just love my guy Cartman too much to leave him out 🙈🥰 So, enjoy some . . . Styleman?? LOL. 🏕️

Contains suggestive content and a bit of mature language. Best for 18+. Nothing graphic. I don't post anything explicit on Tumblr.

Normally Stan loved camping with his friends. The fresh mountain air, the indigo-greens of the night sky, the cricket song. The way he could look at the wild, open landscape and not feel insignificant because out here, everyone was insignificant.

Hell, coming out this far in the forest pines had been his idea, but if past-him could have looked into the future's crystal ball, he sure wouldn't be freezing his ass off in a lonely sleeping bag just so he could listen to Cartman and Kyle get it off together in the tent beside his. Feeling his teeth clash together, sensitive from the cold, he cursed Kenny for turning down the invitation. At least then he wouldn't be so hopelessly alone.

Cartman and Kyle's silhouettes flickered across his own tent wall like two candle flames. Sometimes they intertwined; other times, they shivered apart. Stan could hear their muffled whispers and giggles, punctuated by Kyle's occasional petulant shh!

Looking back, Stan wasn't sure when the nature of their relationship had changed - if it had ever changed at all, for that matter. Maybe it had been like this as long as they'd known each other, and he'd just missed the signs.

Earlier in the evening, Kyle and Cartman been bickering in their usual fashion over the snacks Cartman had brought, how well Kyle had pitched the tent (which had started a slew of sexual innuendos from Cartman that had Kyle ready to commit murder), and Stan had been convinced things might be like the old days again.

At least like before college, back when things felt normal. But no, those days were gone, and Stan didn't know why, but he felt his eyes burn when he thought about how those years were never, ever returning. Now Cartman and Kyle couldn't fight without the heated exchange ending in an intense make-out session or a half-concealed fuck in Kenny's closet at a house party.

He hated himself for wishing they'd go back to hating each other. At least then he wouldn't feel left out.

On the bright side, the tears were keeping Stan somewhat warm. Octobers in South Park could unleash unforgiving weather. Normally he didn't mind sitting in the cold until he went numb - he even relished it - but now it was only painful.

Kyle let out an exceptionally loud yelp, followed by Cartman's ruthless snickering. Stan let his eyes drift back to the outlines of their bodies displayed across the fabric tent wall. At some point, their shape had become one.

Stan turned on his side so he couldn't see them anymore. A few tears ran from his eyelashes into his lip, and he tasted salt mixed with the marshmallows from earlier. Maybe he shouldn't have invited both of them. Kyle probably would have come alone, maybe even Cartman. He gripped himself tighter, huddling under the sleeping bag's cover. None of it made sense, Cartman and Kyle . . . Kyle and Cartman . . .

He was Kyle's best friend, the one who had always been kind to him. For fuck's sake, he'd even been there for Cartman growing up too. What had they done for each other except make both their lives miserable?

But now . . . now he listened to a small, slightly stifled moan, probably from Kyle, and he wished he'd never suggested coming camping altogether, not if the only things to keep him warm were his cheap sleeping bag, his tears, and his jealousy. Maybe the two of them were better off being here without him. He should just pack his stuff and go home.

"Shh, shh, Stan can hear us," Cartman's voice suddenly rang clearly, interrupting some scampering night creature nearby their tents.

"It's not like he doesn't know," followed Kyle, but then his voice became gentler when he called out, "Stan?"

Was it better to pretend to be asleep? Fear grazed Stan's cheek in the form of a frigid breeze that trespassed the tent's opening. Both Cartman and Kyle were suddenly quiet, and the change in atmosphere only lowered Stan's feelings. If he weren't here, they could be having unrestrained fun together. He really should just go home.

Fear escalated to terror when an obscenely loud sniffle escaped his nostril.

"Stan?" gasped Kyle's voice, louder now.

Stan turned with a jolt to see Cartman and Kyle break apart from one another and start emerging from their tent to come to his. Sure enough, within seconds, Kyle's face popped through the tent's slot. His wild hair was spiraling in untamed curls around his head, and his cheeks were rosy pink. "Are you crying?" Kyle's eyes widened with concern. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, what gives, dude?" Cartman's face poked in next, directly under Kyle's. If Stan weren't heavy with his own sorrows, he might have found the image comical. "Lonely in here, Stan?" he joked, but the quip went straight through Stan's heart.

I'm going to cry. I'm going to cry. Stan felt his nostrils quivering, his eyebrows. Could he blame the cold, and would they believe him if he did?

"Stan, that's not true, is it Are you lonely?" asked Kyle, nudging his way into the tent. He sat next to Stan's lantern, only a few inches away because there wasn't much room. "I mean, it'll be a tight fit, but we can all hang out. I thought you liked your space . . ."

"Or you could join us." Cartman's jack-o-lantern smirk cracked across his face.

"Isn't that what I literally just suggested?" snapped Kyle, shooting him a side eye as if his entire neck wasn't covered with his love bites.

"No, you were just saying we could all have a sleepover," fake-yawned Cartman. "I'm suggesting, if the poor guy is lonely, that he join us." There was no mistaking the sly undertone. Stan felt unforeseen heat overtake his face when Cartman directed a flirtatious wink in his direction.

"W-What are you saying?" Stan hated the sound of his voice. He hated how harshly he was now gripping the cover of his sleeping bag, and how some not-so-small, shameful piece of himself was yearning, straining to be included, to be . . . What am I thinking? His heart beat violent rhythms through his ears. Ugly sound. No wonder no one wanted him; he was embarrassing.

"Oh my God, Stan, I'm sorry about him," Kyle started, flustered now himself. "He's just being, well, Cartman."

"Oh, come on." Cartman rolled his eyes, which had assumed an oddly comforting caramel coloration in the lantern light. "Don't tell me you've never thought about Stan that way. We both have."

"What?" Stan heard his voice lift an octave, followed by Cartman's devious laughter and Kyle's stuttering.

"I-I mean, it's just . . ." Kyle's voice went nowhere.

"Come on, just picture it." Cartman lifted his hands as if he were painting the image in the air for them to see. "These romantic ass woods and mountains and nature and shit. The three of us doing it like animals? Shit, it's a wet dream, if you ask me." His tongue rolled over his lips with sinister slowness, and Stan would never admit to the way his heart leapt over a few beats at the sight. Surely this was some kind of terrible prank; neither of them had expressed wanting to be with him in the past, even if many of his own nights had been spent in painful pining to join them.

He knew they weren't particularly monogamous. He wasn't even sure if they saw themselves as a real couple, and he'd always been a little heartbroken trying to piece together what was so unappealing about him that he'd never turned their heads that way. Hadn't he shown that he cared for them both? Wasn't he a nice enough person? It had to be the inherent ugliness he knew lurked under his skin, the repulsive something-or-other about him that made him unlovable, untouchable. He was embarrassing. He was -

"Don't mock me like this," he tried to say without crying, but Kyle must have detected the tear in his voice because he suddenly crawled forward and took his hand. Kyle had held his hand before. Right now, it felt different. His fingers gripped Stan's, squeezing.

"Stan, I'd never do that. You know how much you mean to me." His eyes were so close to Stan's, right there, a dark shade of green that reminded Stan of the trees and grass he loved so dearly. Lily pads. His eyes were like lily pads in dark water. He'd never seen such eyes on anyone else. "I know Eric has a fucking horrible way of suggesting it, but . . . if you're lonely in here, I mean, and if you want to . . ." His face blossomed with red. "I can't say I haven't . . . ever thought about it, is all. The three of us." He cleared his throat. "You're my best friend. You're, uh . . ."

"You've thought about it?" Stan wasn't sure how much more new information he could take. If his voice went any higher, he was pretty sure he'd go through some kind of reverse puberty. His ears rang.

"Oh, be serious, Stan. You can't deny you're hot as fuck. A real dreamboat with that classic look of yours. Plus, you have that good- boy sweet vibe about you," Cartman added, causing Stan to jump at the sudden closeness of his voice. He felt it tickle his earlobe. When the hell had he moved so quickly and silently to his other side? Encased between the two of them, Stan felt his heart racing and his previous tears searching for a place to go. "Prime for corruption, if you ask me." Cartman's voice sank a few levels; Stan felt his lips ghost down his ear to his neck, and he jumped closer to Kyle.

"It doesn't have to be like that," cried Kyle, exasperated, reaching a gloved hand to cup at Stan's cheek. The warmth of his hand radiated through the fabric. "Like I said before, you know how much I care about you. We only have to do this if you want to." His eyes simmered. "We can be slow."

Even Cartman, to his credit, paused by Stan's neck, clearly waiting for some form of permission to continue. Stan searched for the words to respond, his mind grasping nothing. All he could think about were the parties he had spent watching the two of them kiss while he sat twisted with sharp pains, the nights he had walked home alone, the loneliness like a smog he couldn't shake off his shoulders. How that smog followed him absolutely fucking everywhere.

Such were his thoughts when he whispered, his voice dispersing like fading fog on the syllable, "Yes."

Cartman surged in like a shark then, his parted lips and teeth clamping into the soft, open skin of Stan's neck. At the same moment, Kyle muttered, "Oh, Stan, I've been waiting for this," and then gently pressed their mouths together.

So much was happening - Stan felt his pulse quicken even further. His temperature elevated, and he couldn't believe he'd been cold ten minutes ago. The heat of Eric's mouth, scented faintly of chocolate, fastened to his skin while he tasted the bright spearmint flavor of Kyle's lips. Underneath the mint, he detected subtle cocoa. Realizing that flavor must have come from Cartman's candy bar earlier and yet he was tasting it through Kyle's mouth sent Stan's thoughts into madness.

Kyle's mouth was exceedingly gentle, his lips slowly but, with defined pressure, moving against his. Is this what Cartman felt all the time from him? Kyle was kissing him, his best friend. The person he'd spent his whole life beside. A person he loved. Kyle.

Stan felt a little dizzy trying to keep up with his shifting emotions when Cartman nipped at his neck. He gasped into Kyle's mouth.

"He's so innocent," teased Cartman. He licked a quick trail up the length of Stan's throat, making him shudder all over again. "So cute. This is gonna be fun." Stan wasn't even sure what to think of Cartman, how to explain the fierce arousal he felt when he'd watched Kyle and Cartman make out. There was a commanding aspect to his personality he couldn't quite fathom, some alluring fantasy of being overpowered associated with his expressive gestures.

"Don't go rushing this," ordered Kyle, the usual warning vexation returning to his tone when he pulled backward some. Stan, breathing hard, noticed a new shine to his eyes he'd never noticed before. He thought he'd known every side of Kyle once. "I want to take my time with this." He was speaking to Cartman, but his eyes were settled on Stan.

Stan was struck with the abrupt realization that he was not simply being looked at - he was being studied. As if Kyle were waiting for the right moment to devour him. These were the looks he'd been craving, this was the attention, and now that it was here, all here, and he was voiceless, helpless. He felt his shoulders tremble under their hands like the falling pine needles outside. His skin reddened beneath their vigilant eyes. He had no idea what to do, which moves to make.

He'd been so utterly convinced a moment like this would never come for him that it all felt like some cruel magic trick the forest was playing on him, almost as if he'd wished so hard for something, he was hallucinating it now.

"Don't worry," Cartman said, his voice more soothing than Stan had ever heard. He hadn't known he was even capable of comfort. Did he really know his two friends at all? "We'll take good care of you, sweetheart." And then somehow, Stan was kissing Cartman - the sweet taste of his tongue coating his mouth like velvet chocolate. Someone's hands were in his hair - Kyle's? - and before he knew it, his head was being shifted from one side to the other, both of them taking turns kissing him. Their mouths were both burning, blazing, even. They both tasted good. Chocolate mint. Stan felt his lips slacken. What to do, what to do?

At some point, he could no longer keep up with which mouth belonged to whom, which long fingers and strong palms were tugging at his coat collar and his hair. He registered through his swimming, unfocused-brain rush of desire the chorusing of insects somewhere beyond the tent.

Was this sweet, tingling taste the flavor of devotion?

If I ever continued this, the rest would have to go to Ao3. Too steamy for here 😳 I hope you enjoyed 🤭🥰🙈 🍫🍵

#south park #fanfic #drabble #stanman #style #styleman?#eric cartman #stan marsh #kyle broflovski #kissing #style south park #stanman south park #polyamory

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missuswalker · 1 year

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Dude the red hcs are so good bc I have the exact same vision of her in my head like playing volleyball and being extremely gay and pining for Wendy like that’s EXACTLY what I thought too 😭😭 BOUNCING OFF THAT VOLLEYBALL IDEA could you do mutual pining hcs of basketball player Kyle and volleyball player reader please? With bff Red on the side bc the energy u gave her makes me wanna see u write her more HAHA thank you!!

THIS IS SO BFHEFBEUIHU!!! lets kiss.

cheer you on || kyle broflovski x fem reader

✮ summary: your best friend, red, has been trying to convince you that kyle likes you, though you aren't totally convinced until he shows it himself (pt two can be found here) ✮ warnings: stanley marsh jumpscare

"God damn, he's so damn fine." Red gives me a look, already knowing who I was talking about. "Girl, you're like a stalker, hashtag free Kyle," Red scoffs, looking in the direction I was. "Yeah, well you can't tell me that Wendy isn't in your recently searched on Insta," I retort. "I could. It just wouldn't be true."

My eyes stayed on Kyle, watching as he talks to his friends, telling someone off for spilling water all over the lunch table. Kyle and I were okay friends, we talked when we saw each other, but it was never much more than that. Red swore on her life that he flirts with me all the time, but I could only think he was just being nice.

"If you don't go talk to him, I'm drowning you." Red jests, taking a sip from her water bottle. "Hell no, are you insane?" I say, shutting even the idea of talking to him down, stealing a grape out of Red's lunchbox. "He's looking over here," Red whispers, elbowing me.

"Shut up!" I snap, trying not to give in to the urge to look back. "Woah, woah, woah, he's coming over her," Red continues, her voice louder than I would've liked it to be. "Shut up!" I repeat, acting like I didn't have a clue that he was walking up behind me.

"Hey, Y/n, what's up?" Kyle asks, taking the seat next to me. "Not much, just... lunch." I need to shut the fuck up. "Cool," Kyle chuckles, pushing his curly bangs out of his eyes. "You coming to the basketball tonight? It's a big one and I was kinda hoping you could be my personal cheerleader," He grins. I could feel Red's amusement even while I wasn't facing her.

"I totally would, but I have volleyball tonight." I answer. Of course I have volleyball the night Kyle invites me to come watch his basketball. "Home game?" He asks, messing with his bangs once again. "Yeah, sorry, I really wish I could come." He shrugs, giving me a nod, glancing back at his friends.

"It's cool, don't worry about it. Next time, maybe," He mumbles, standing up. "See you in history?" I nod, giving him an apologetic smile. "Yeah, see you." I watch him walk back to his table, jumping as Red punches me in the shoulder.

"He was so bummed! "My personal cheerleader"? Are you serious? He wants you! That was so an invitation to have his little kosher children!" Red exclaims, shaking my arm. "Ew, what the hell? Have his kosher children? He just invited me to a basketball game, I bet he invited, like, eight other girls," I argue, pulling my arm away.

"Are you talking about Kyle?"

"Jesus Chirst," I huff, jumping at the sudden appearance of Stan. Whipping around, I see him leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. "He only invited you. He's been growing the balls to do it all day." Stan continues, staring into my soul. I give Red a look, my eyes going back to Stan.

"Ok... bye Stan," I say, waving in hopes he'd leave. He rolls his eyes, returning to his table. "Creep," Red mumbles, zipping up her lunchbox.

✮

Our match had just ended, our setter, Bebe, dragging out a cooler of gatorades. "Holy shit, Y/n, look to your left," Red laughs, nudging me. I turn and immediately see what she was telling me to look at. "Is that Kyle? Why is he here, did he skip his basketball game?" I say, completely shocked to see the redhead boy at my volleyball game.

He gives me a wave, his signature goofy grin taking over his previously straight face as he steps down from the bleachers. I meet him in the middle, giving him a confused look. "What are you doing here, I thought you had basketball?"

"I wanted to come cheer you on. I called in sick, Butters was gonna take my place." He answers, sending me into a swarm of thoughts. "You're fucked if your coach finds out you were at my stupid volleyball match." I scold, earning a playful eye roll from Kyle.

"It wasn't stupid. You were really good. Plus, I wanted to ask you something."

Hoooollllyyyy shit. If this was going where I thought it was going, I was going to pass away on the spot.

"I think you're gorgeous, and I was wondering if I could take you to get something to eat sometime. I really like you."

Woah.

"Yeah, that sounds fun. Text me?" "Definitely. See you tomorrow."

I was literally about to pass away. Walking back to my team, Red was readily prepared to shit on me about this.

"Told you so." "Shut up."

a/n: MEOOOWWWW

ruff ruff ruff im such a kahl gremlin (not proofread, i'll do it after my nap 😻) (its 3 am)

#south park imagines #south park #x reader #kyle brovlofski #kyle broflovski x reader #south park fanfiction #south park x reader #i want to marry this anon

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nrilliree · 5 months

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https://www.tumblr.com/thekinslayed/745892876790202368/anyone-else-think-rhaenyras-exhausting-wasnt?source=share

And here is the text in question in case you have blocked this user :

"anyone else think rhaenyra’s “exhausting wasn’t it? hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness” bit would’ve hit harder if show alicent was actually a vile evil person ? instead it came off as rhaenyra being mean to a mother whose son just got permanently disabled and was trying to seek justice for it???

not to mention this is the same woman who’s served a family she was forced to marry into and in return has been treated like nothing but shit by these blonde inbred idiots ? no? just me? ok"

Alicent fans really have a problem understanding...

Alicent was not trying to obtain justice for Aemond, but for herself and this is seen by the dialogue where she is full of her own fate. Not to mention the fact that she is using this horrible situation to continue what she has been doing for 10 years, namely trying to destroy Rhaenyra and her children, in particular by inventing complete lies like that Lucerys would have voluntarily tried to kill Aemond. She's literally trying to make Luke, a child under 10, look like a murder planner. How is this a manifestation of a mother seeking justice for her son ? I just see a woman using a horrible accident between children to try to gratuitously destroy the woman she declared war on 10 years ago. Not to mention that she is willing to intentionally mutilate a child as a so-called debt for her son's lost eye, as if it was appropriate ? We're talking about a fight between children that got out of hand. How is an adult asking for a child's eye supposed to be a symbol of justice for a fucking accident ?!

Also, how did Alicent faithfully serve the House Targaryen she married ? What dimension do Alicent stans live in ?! She is literally just following her father's wishes. Marry Viserys. Give him male heirs, and then try all these years to put the first born Aegon II on the throne in place of Rhaenyra, the legitimate heir designated by Viserys, the king himself. How does it serve the house you married to go against the decision of your husband and king ?! Not to mention trying to call into question the legitimacy of the Velaryon children, yet once again recognized as legitimate by the family she married. So once again, how has Alicent faithfully served the house she married ? On the contrary, she only goes against their wishes and plots against them, and has been doing so since long before her official entry among them via marriage to Viserys.

Once again, the Alicent stans and TG are delusional.

Surprisingly, I haven't blocked this person yet this time. I know. What a surprise 😂

Rhaenyra was talking to Daemon a few scenes earlier about how she didn't think Alicent was capable of murder, and Daemon replied to her something along the lines of she doesn't know what people are willing to do for power. These were not these words, but the meaning was preserved. And later, Rhaenyra sees that Alicent not only disobeys the king's order, but also tries to attack the child with a knife in such a way that if she had only mutilated him, it would have been lucky, because she would probably have murdered him. And Alicent did it in front of everyone. So what was she capable of when no one was watching? Rhaenyra became convinced that Alicent was responsible for the murder of Lyonel and Harwin. And that's what it says. That Alicent does shameful things in secret, but pretends to be honorable in public, and in this scene she showed her rotten face - someone who will not listen to her husband and king, who will not hesitate to hurt a child and take advantage of her own son's harm in order to achieve something in the name of her own harm. Because that's what Alicen was screaming about - herself.

Alicent never served the Targaryens. She only thought about herself, Otto and the Hightowers. It is as if Catelyn, despite being Ned's wife, still dressed her sons in Tully colors and was loyal to this family. But people are outraged when Alicent is compared to Cersei, and that's what she did…

#house of the dragon #team black #anti team green #pro team black #rhaenyra targaryen #anti alicent hightower #anti team green stans

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elvendria · 2 years

Text

Clean (Formerly Love is a Battlefield)

AU Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Part One

Summary:

You return to Hawkins after a few years in the middle of the night during the summer with your 4-year-old sister in tow, thinking the two of you could fly under the radar and settle in at Forest Hills Trailer Park. You thought you could get by without bumping into your old enemy, Eddie Munson, the town freak.

But you weren't always enemies, in fact, there was a time when you two were closer than anything.

Eddie dreams of making it big, you just dream of making it out of here alive.

\\enemies - lovers//

((Warning I'm not from the US, so bare with me when it comes to states and such))

tw: 18+ MINORS DNI or I will be busting kneecaps, E.D, physical abuse, child abuse, runaways, reader is 20 and Joyce's ex-step-niece, Will and Johnathan's cousin, Joyce is Queen, Wayne is King, slow burn, gambling addictions, Eddie is 20, Chrissy is the villan but we stan grace

Word Count: 3.96K

part two part three part four

May 21st 1986

You drive the back roads as much as possible, the 1970s Dodge Challenger illuminated under the moon as you try your best to drive carefully. You didn't want to wake Willow, your 4 years old sister, sleeping in the backseat. It was drizzling rain, pouring down the windshield in sheets, how very fitting.

It had been a whirlwind, a spur-of-the-moment decision. Things had gotten to be... too much, having moved to Vegas from Hawkins a few years ago for your Dad's new telemarketer job. Willow wasn't even born yet, and after she was it didn't take long for it all to go to shit.

Pleasant conversations turned into civil discussions turned into small spats turned into full-blown fisticuffs. You could handle the occasional black eye or bust lip, you were a big girl, but the second you found out that they'd laid a hand on Will you were out of there.

The summer had just begun, and you were taking care of Willow while you were both at home. It was at least 84°F, and so you changed her out of her jammies and into a loose sundress when you noticed it. A large handprint on her arm and an even larger bruise began to form in the center of her back.

"Will, what happened?" You already knew what it was, but you hoped beyond hope that you were wrong. Mom was decent enough to hit in places you could hide unless she was drunk, hence the purpling bruise under your eye. Dad was the one to smack you if you got in his way of something. Dad would slap you and not care where it landed.

"Daddy got mad at me for playing with my dollies while he watched TV. I'm sorry sissy I didn't mean to be bad." She hung her head, to which you tilted it up to look in her eyes, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill.

"Shh Willa it's okay..." You pulled her in for a hug, careful not to hold her too tight. "How about we go on a little trip, you and me? We can go for as long as you want." She was four fucking years old. She was a child. She shouldn't be worrying about getting in trouble for playing with a goddamn toy. "You can bring all your dolls with you! They can come on the trip with us."

It never took much convincing with her. You'd soon learned that she was the kind of kid who just wanted to help others, giving them her lunch and going over to someone who was sitting alone and asking if they wanted to play jump rope with her.

You shook your head no when she asked would your parents be joining the two of you, and her eyes lit up a small bit, which made your heartbreak. Your father was known for flying off the handle, a loss at the casino was enough to put him on the warpath for weeks. If he had bet on the football game and she got in his way of seeing something he considered important, it wouldn't have mattered that she was only a child. She was standing in the way of him and his money, and so she needed to be removed.

You shoved anything and everything you could into 3 duffel bags. Mostly clothes and essentials along with any cash you had saved up for college tuition. It wasn't like you were going anyways, you'd have never left Will here alone plus you missed the deadline on applications. Now you were just a high school graduate with no prospects.

You threw in a lot of snacks for the drive, it was going to be a long ride back to Hawkins and Vee could get hangry at the best of times.

And Hawkins you had landed. After spending the past three nights in different motels, hood up anytime you saw the hint of a security camera at a gas station, you finally arrived to the one place that had always been like a home away from home, to the one person who you could trust like no other. You felt guilty for knocking at this hour, especially when you remembered that it had been almost 2 years since you last spoke with her.

The porch light turned on, door swinging open with a loud creak as you cradled the sleep-drunk 4 year old on your hip, her drool pooling on your shoulder, not that you cared.

"Hi Aunt Joyce..."

Joyce was your aunt in the every way but legally. She had married your Uncle Lonnie, leaving him when she found out that her husband was a lot like his brother. Thankfully, from what you've heard through the grapevine that is your fathers derogatory comments, her sons seem to have been spared those genes.

"Y/N? Is that.. Is that you?" Her voice was bleary, dull and squinted from tiredness, and once again I felt immense amounts of guilt for waking her up at this hour. It had to be at least 3 in the morning, and here you were, a niece who hadn't contacted her in two years (not that you were allowed to) standing in her doorway, soaked to the skin from the rain.

You remember the last words she said to you, the hurried phone call as she told you Will was home safe, no longer missing. You didn't even care that your father had cut the phone call short, quite literally taking a scissors to the cord, you were that happy to hear your cousin was okay.

"Yeah I'm uh..." You'll be honest, you didn't think this far ahead. You knew where you would be living, you'd called ahead to the trailer park owner from a shady motel and told him you'd pay him a deposit tomorrow. Well, today. But you hadn't planned what you'd say to Joyce, how you'd tell her that you skipped town with your sister in an attempt to save her from the abuse back home. "I'm back home. Just us.."

That was all she needed to hear to usher you inside, her arms wrapping you in the first hug that wasn't your sisters in four years.

Telling everything to Joyce was actually a lot easier than you thought, especially when you didn't have to tell her at all. She took a good look at you and noticed the deep bruise under your eye and the small scar on your chin from where your mom had forgotten her own strength, causing you to hit the kitchen counter. It hadn't been there when you left, so it confirmed what Joyce already knew. You didn't have to utter a word for her to understand.

"I'll be moving into Forest Hills in the morning, I'm only asking for two things, and I'll make it up to you as best I can, I promise." Your eyes were pleading with her, not that they needed to be, Joyce would've done anything to help you. She saw you almost like a daughter, wanting on more than one occasion to sweep you away from them and take care of you. She'd never gotten to meet Willow, but already she was in love with the bouncy brunette curls that fell across her face as she slept in your lap, cuddled up to you on the couch like you were the only person in the world.

"I don't have a lot..." She reached into her purse, bulling out a few crumpled bills, only stopping when you put a hand on her arm and looked at her. Everything favor with your parents had to have been paid back with interest. If you needed a ride to school, you had to fill the car with gas and wash it. If you needed to borrow $5 for lunch, you had to pay back $35, all under the guise of 'this is how it is in the real world, no ones going to love you for free'. And yet here was Joyce, a woman who wasn't even technically related to you, who you hadn't spoken to in years, offering over whatever she had with no strings attached.

"I have the money, thank you though. I just..." You blinked back tears, the overwhelming feeling of gratefulness washing over you like a waterfall. You had never been great at accepting help, no clue why. It's not like you were in a transactional relationship with your parents. You stroked Willow's hair. If it weren't for her you wouldn't even be asking, you'd be determined to do this alone. But you needed stability for her, along with a steady cash income. "I need help with a job."

You saw Joyce's eyes light up, holding your hand that had been on her arm. She smiled at you, a soft gentle smile that made you feel at home again. This house had been your home away from... whatever it was you could call where you lived. You used to play board games with Johnathan at the kitchen counter, or lie on your stomach and draw pictures with Will on the floor. It all smelled the same, a thick mustiness in the air combined with a lemon cleaning product.

You stayed and talked with Joyce for a while, she told you she could secure you an interview at the local music store, and if that failed she joked about having someone on the inside at Melvalds. She hugged you goodbye, kissing the top of your head like she used to when you were a kid, standing in the doorway as you drove off, not closing it until your tail lights were out of sight.

It was early morning when you pulled up to your new home. The owner had given you a discount along with a look of pity. Usually you'd be the first to tell a person off for looking at you like that, but hey, if it got you a discount you weren't going to say no.

You parked up outside and instinctively looked across the dirt road, realizing why it felt like such a familiar drive. Right across from your trailer, where you planned on laying low for a while, was 53 Forest Hills Park.

The Munson Residence.

You swore you saw a curtain move back into place when you took Willow from the car, balancing her on your hip as you held your new key, but maybe you were imagining things, because you stood there for five more minutes to see if the door would open, and all it did was remain shut. For some reason that hurt you more than if he was to actually show his face.

Not that you wanted him to.

You brushed it off, looking down at the key before you pushed it in the lock, a little extra force was needed as it was somehow already rusty, even though he told you it was new. Not that you were going to complain. A home is a home after all. All you needed was somewhere for yourself and Ivy to rest your heads and eat food, everything after that was secondary.

You walked into the bedrooms and saw that the beds already had sheets on them, though they looked... questionable. You didn't want to run the risk of Willow or yourself being bitten by something, so you hastily undressed the beds, flipping both mattresses. It was a temporary solution until you could take them out back and beat them senseless with the sweeping brush to be a bit more certain they weren't infested.

Once again, you weren't complaining, anything was better than a motel bed where the springs threatened to burst through and stab your skin. You were really looking forward to a night where you weren't swaddled in blankets and towels to avoid being impaled.

"Here you go monkey, snug as a bug in a rug." You had put one of your hoodies on Willow, the fabric coming down to her ankles, the sleeves well past her fingertips. It looked ridiculous on her, but you didn't pack sheets because why would you think of that? You walk over to a closet in the hallway and find some relatively clean linen, pulling them out and making the beds. You'd plan a trip to a laundromat soon, you needed to wash your clothes from the journey anyways.

You pulled the blanket up to her chin, kissing between her eyebrows gently. As you went to pull away, you felt a tiny hand grab onto you, or at least attempt to. She was too tired to speak, but you knew what she meant, what she wanted you to do.

Crawling onto the bed beside her, one arm bent up behind her head as you stroked her rosy cheeks, you smiled down at her as you felt your eyes droop, growing more and more tired by the second.

"I'm here petal, I'm not leavin'." You mumbled lightly, sleep overcoming you as you lay beside her.

A few days had passed, and Willow seemed to be settling down to the idea of being here for a while. You'd been keeping an eye on the news, and there were no reports about either of you, so even though you'd been gone just over a week, you're parents hadn't reported you two missing.

You were standing in the kitchenette, having just gotten back from your first shift at the record store, a resounding success if you did say so yourself. Willa sat in the manager's office, you were going to need to find someone to look after her. Joyce had to work too, even though she told you numerous times that she could babysit.

She was sitting watching Looney Toons, giggling at something Bugs Bunny did on the TV. You looked over at her as you flipped pancakes, having only grabbed the bare essentials to make a few meals. Your paycheck was due at the end of the week, and you were planning on going grocery shopping then.

The room felt hot from the sun pouring in, the rays of light accentuating every speck of dust in the room. It filtered through the curtains, the room now a soft glow, the dark brown furnishings looking brighter. You were calm, and relaxed, setting down the plate of pancakes in front of Willow when there came a knock on the door.

Of course you were nervous, why wouldn't you be? just because they hadn't called the cops doesn't mean they hadn't figured it out for themselves. They could be standing outside, waiting to drag you both back to Nevada to be their personal punching bags. Hunching down, you stayed low as you walked, or rather crawled over to the window, peering out.

You saw what looked to be a kind but stern man standing outside holding a tupperware box. He looked vaguely familiar, like he was from a distant memory. Something about him felt safe, or at least safe enough to open the door anyways.

Pulling it open, you looked at him as his eyes widened slightly like he was surprised to see you. You stood there trying to piece where you knew him from when it finally clicked with you who was before you.

"Jesus Christ darlin', thought I was havin' a vision when I saw ya'll pull up just t'other day. Said to myself, surely Y/N Y/L/N isn't back here." Wayne's southern drawl made everything sound pleasant and inviting, and you couldn't help the smile that grew on your face. He looked different than when you last saw him, his hair was thinner and his skin was more aged, but no one would ever be able to forget the energy Wayne Munson radiated.

"Oh my god, Wayne! How are you? Come in!" You stepped back, holding the door open for him to come and sit, suddenly realizing something as your words caught in your throat. There was a chance that Wayne wasn't going to be alone, and that his nephew was going to be joining him very soon. "Is he uh... Is he going to join you?"

There was a reason you knew the drive to the trailer park so well, why you stared at the Munson trailer for a solid five minutes, afraid to blink in case you missed him, why you knew Wayne and he knew you, both acting like old friends. It's because you were. Or at least you had been with his nephew.

Eddie Munson, in all his wickedness and cruelty, had been your best and closest friend in the world. He was the first boy you ever loved, the first boy to break your heart too. No guy you met since then has ever been enough to make you forget about him.

Despite how much you wanted to.

"No no, he..." His words faltered, his eyes cast down at his hands as you placed a cup of coffee in them. The trailer wasn't much but at least it had a kettle. "I don't think he knows you're here. Y/N I really think you two should..." But you cut him off before he could finish.

"I'm sorry Wayne, but after everything he said, everything he promised and and what he did, I can't look at him right now." Mentioning him made your chest ache, and made you want to not hate him. You wondered if he'd grown his hair back, if he'd gotten any better at guitar, if he still had that tattered old copy of Lord of The Rings that you'd gotten him for his 9th birthday with your pocket money that you'd hidden away.

You twisted the ring he gave you on your finger, something you always did when you were nervous. It was a thick silver ring, with a chain pattern around the middle of it. You'll never forget what he said to you when he walked up, holding out the ring on a small chain. You were only slightly older than Willow. It also happened to be the very first thing he said to you.

"Hey! Wanna see what I have?!" He came barrelling over to you, his hand clasped around something tight. You were worried if he was going to show you a bug because surely it would be dead by now. He was a small boy with shaggy dark brown hair to match his eyes. You hadn't seen him in your grade before.

"Um.. sure?" You had been making daisy chains on the grass, taking a short break from the swings. You were gonna go back to them though, you were determined to swing so high you could see your house.

"I think it might be too big for you, but I won this at the arcade." He looked shy, nervous even. He'd been admiring the way your pigtails flowed when you soared high, and he remembered he had the ring in his pocket.

"Thank you!" You were at the age where you didn't question anything, and where someone being friendly was only that, a person being friendly. You took the necklace from him, slipping it around your neck and giggling as it swung side to side. The boy looked a little older, maybe a year? You slipped the ring over your finger, giggling as it slipped back off again, danging from the chain.

"My mom talks about growing into stuff all the time, maybe that's what you can do with that!" He looked so excited, so eager and happy and joyful before sitting down on the ground and plucking a long blade of grass, holding it between his thumbs and trying to make that noise you'd seen people do before. He kept muttering about how he almost had it even though he was nowhere near close.

You sat like that for what felt like hours before a young-looking woman called him over, walking and taking his hand. She looked so much like him, a striking resemblance between them both. He began to walk away, before breaking his grip on his mother's hand to run back and tackle you into a hug.

"I'm Eddie, see you soon!"

You told him your name, and if anyone were ever to ask you when you fell in love with Edward Munson, it would be that moment exactly.

"I understand, just... try to go easy on him okay?" He nodded his head, hands clasped around the mug. You both heard scuffles coming from the side and turned to see the mischievous brunette staring at you from over the sofa, the lower half of her face obscured.

"Where are my manners! Wayne... this is my sister Willow." Walking over, you scooped her up in your arms, her giggles warming your heart and Waynes as you sit down again with her on your knee. That was the thing about Willa, everything about her made people want to smile, and her very presence lit up the room.

"Well hello there little lady, how are you this fine afternoon." He grinned over at her, his gruff exterior giving way to that heartwarming smile you remembered from childhood.

The one thing about Willow, the one thing that you knew for certain, was that she had absolutely no filter whatsoever. She sat there for a second, ignoring Wayne's question before looking down from his receding hairline to his face.

"You have a very shiny head."

She said it with full confidence, no hesitation. You felt your face turn bright red with embarrassment. You were about to scold her, tell her that she couldn't just go around commenting on how people were bald, when you heard a loud bellowing laugh from across the table.

Looking at Wayne, he was clutching his sides as a stray tear rolled down his face. He started wheezing, which caused you to laugh, which caused Willow to laugh. Her laugh was like a lilted giggle, bouncing on your leg and hiding behind her hands as her lopsided pigtails danced around her.

"I suppose you're right, my head is rather shiny.." He chuckled further, finishing up his coffee. You sat there and talked for a few minutes, before Wayne stood up, carrying his mug to the sink, ignoring your protests claiming that you would take care of it yourself.

"I best get going, working night security at the plant, they need me over there at 7 on the dot." He reached over, playfully pretending to steal Willows nose. "Now we have to meet again so I can give this back, okay darlin'?" Willa just nodded her head and giggled, hands flying up to cup her face.

The two of you walked out to the front of the trailer, chatting away again, completely oblivious to the figure watching you from 53 Forest Hills Trailer Park. A figure with a heart that was beating a mile a minute, because there you were, after some long, excruciating years of being without you, and you were talking to his uncle like nothing was wrong.

He was still in his daze when he felt her soft hand on his bicep, pulling his focus away for a second.

"Eds, come back to bed, Wayne's left for the evening, wanna have some fun with you." He used to like the way she said his nickname, the nickname you started for him, but now it felt wrong, weird even, and he wasn't sure why.

"Sure Chris, lead the way..." He followed Chrissy into his bedroom. He knew he should be thinking of her, of his girlfriend, the prom queen and former High School Queen, but his mind still thinking of you, his mind filling with questions, but predominantly one.

"What the hell were you doing back here?"

part two part three

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