#if you are the type who likes to just meander around by god you will find ways to meander. and eventually it will lead you back to the stor

[beatcroc]

overall sonic frontiers opinion so far is the core game design is genuinely fantastic but they're also kind of weirdly awful at minor quality of life stuff

[ivymarquis]

Say You Won't Let Go

Last House on the Right

Pairing| John Price x F!Single Mom!Reader Rating| E Word Count| 1.1k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Post Apocalypse!AU, Single Mom!verse, pregnant reader, mentions of pregnancy related eating issues + vomiting, Reader's got some separation issues. Fair warning this is so half baked I haven't even decided what kind of apocalypse it is, but somehow Ive got a whole plotline regardless.Same pairing as my fic Blind Date

Next Chapter

You can’t believe your luck. 

You’re not sure what exactly it was about this house in the dead of night that had you so transfixed, but your intuition has paid off in spades. 

The area’s been abandoned, to your knowledge leaving you the sole inhabitant meandering around. 

Or maybe waddling would be a more apt description.

Fear and uncertainty of the outside hurry you along into the house. Most everyone- the survivors- has splintered off into groups. There’s no evidence of anyone still living here (admittedly it’s not like you’ve taken the time to check every room, but there are signs when a house is inhabited), but you luck out that the cabinets haven’t been picked over. 

It’s been entirely too long since your last meal, and it takes a good amount of restraint to not devour the can of ravioli too quickly. 

As much as you’re tempted, you know there’s a fine line between what will and won’t have you immediately throwing up in the sink- grazing seems to keep the worst of the upset down.

There’s no hospitals to jaunt off to if you end up dehydrated. Excessive vomiting is not ideal post end of days.

If you were in your right mind- not frightened, isolated, starving, cold- and not focusing on how the unheated chef boyardee might as well be a five star michelin meal for all you can think right now, you might have been paying more attention.

The sound of a safety clicking off behind you freezes your blood far more than the cold. That sound is deliberate. Whoever’s behind you- gun pointed at you- wants you to know they got the jump on you.

“Hands where I can see them,” the order is gruffly barked at you.

You feel stupid. Of course all of this was too convenient for you to simply be catching a break. It wasn’t exactly well lit and designed to draw you in- but you’re an animal caught in a trap regardless.

The fork clatters against the counter next to the can as you go to comply.

“Turn around. Slowly.”

You’re not much of a threat in your current condition. That much is obvious.

Time stopped having any sort of tangible meaning a while ago. You should know how many weeks you are, but the days run together fending for yourself and you just know that you’re close. There’s no hiding the swell of your belly.

The man at the doorway looks as gruff as he sounds. Your mind spins like a tire in mud to process everything in front of you in the poor moonlight. Military, that much is obvious. You’re not actually sure if that’s a good thing. Handsome from what you can see, though historically your type has been men who don’t have a weapon leveled at you.

The taciturn expression on his face falters when he spots your bump, but you’ve learned by now to not expect any sort of special treatment.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize immediately. “I-I didn’t know anyone was here. I’ll leave, I swear.” 

He looks at you another moment before a look of resignation washes over him.

“Turn back around. Keep your hands up.” Oh God. Your mind immediately goes to the worst- That this man, for whatever reason, has decided that your infraction has signed your death warrant. That he can’t quite bring himself to fire on a pregnant woman staring him in the eyes, so the last thing you’re ever going to see is some tacky wallpaper and ugly cabinets.

You yelp when one of his hands finds the pistol on your hip. Holy shit you didn’t even hear him cross the room.

“Easy, love,” he soothes as he starts to frisk you for more weapons. “Not gonna hurt you. You have anything else on you?”

“A knife in my back pocket.” It doesn’t even occur to you to lie; putting yourself in his good graces is your only option and you can’t do that by lying.

His hands slip under your jacket, the hem oversized and hanging even with your arms up, making a wrong guess at the first pocket he checks before grabbing the knife out of the second one.

“Anyone going to come sniffing around looking for you?” A fair question, but one that sticks like a knife between your ribs.

The “No,” that escapes you is softer than you meant it to be, voice warbling as you try not to cry.

Hormones would have had you on the verge of tears at any given point, and that would have been before the end of the world and before your group abandoned you. You’re well entitled to your tears, you think, but try to stuff them back down anyway.

“You’re out here alone,” he grouses, sounding like he doesn’t believe you. The like this? is implied.

Your arms are still up, and they’re getting tired. Everything tires you out these days.

Like he can read your mind, he releases you with a “you can set your arms down now, love.”

“Thank you,” you’re in full fawn mode, turning to face him. While he’s clearly decided against killing you, you’ve been scared and alone for the past few days and you really don’t want to be separated from the only person who will give you the time of day right now. 

“Is there anyone else here? Other soldiers?” Your fate is sealed and lies in the soldier’s hands regardless of his answer.

Nothing with change, no matter what he says, but you think you’re less intimidated if it’s just the two of you. 

The world’s gone to hell in a handbasket, and yet you’ll never forget watching 28 days later when the line I promised them women was dropped.

“Got separated from my team.”

He turns away from you, gesturing to follow him out of the kitchen and towards the living room.

He’s limping.

You haven’t seen him move until now. You’re more an expert on busted hardware than busted body parts, you can’t tell if it’s a fresh injury that’s still healing, or an old one that’s set in place.

“They left you.” They left me, too.

“They didn’t leave me for dead, they think I am dead. Gonna take a bit more than that to get the job done, though.” 

You have no reason not to believe him. Despite having just met him, the man is like a living manifestation of everything masculinity is supposed to be- down to the surly attitude despite him herding you further into the house. It doesn’t take much to figure out that he’s tough as nails and sure why not flirt in death’s face that her last attempt wasn’t good enough?

You sit on the couch he points to, as he settles into the leather chair across from you.

“Christ what’d I’d do for a fucking smoke right now,” he mumbles, pawing at his chest absent mindedly on reflex.

You mean to sit stiff as a board, but your body is tired and the couch is surprisingly comfortable.

The soldier, however, sits like he owns the house. “And now for the question of what to do with you.”

[inkykeiji]

say you’ll love me to death, cause i will

character: todoroki touya | dabi x fem!reader

genre: smut

notes: alright, so we’ve discussed how touya-nii would react to encountering the man who took your virginity, but let's talk about how you would respond to running into the woman who took touya’s. set in my touya-nii au! as always please heed the warnings and stay safe! | title credit: RUNRUNRUN by dutch melrose

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest (stepcest), public sex, minimal prep, extreme jealousy, toxic relationship

words: 4.7k

synopsis:

“Well, that’s alright! How long have you two been together?”  And, oh, the giggle that bubbles past your lips is downright sinister, fucking caustic, burning your tongue and eroding your teeth.  No, you’re not his girlfriend, or his partner, or his significant other.  You’re something so much better. 

You’re off minding your own business, legs swinging idly on a bar stool as you wait for your designated reservation time, when it happens, when she appears. 

“Touya?”

The name cuts through the blurred noise of the restaurant, both yours and Touya’s attention snapping to the source: a woman, late twenties or so, waving a little in indication on the other side of the bar. 

She’s snaking through the patchy crowd, busy unfastening her hair from the intricate bun its been woven into—a requisite for all the waitresses at this establishment—eyes bright, smile brighter. 

You don’t even know who she is; not technically, anyway, had never thought to press the issue any further than a simple how’d it happen, had never cared enough to try—especially not when he had been sleeping with so many others right in front of you. 

It hadn’t seemed to matter much then. Not the way it matters now.

But she exists, because she must, because somebody would’ve had to take it, would’ve had to be the first, one way or another.

Doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

She’s pretty, but you wouldn’t expect any less. Touya stands as she reaches the two of you, pulling your body up with him.

But then Touya greets her, a name you’ve heard kicked around every now and then, and it all fully, finally clicks. 

Touya’s first. 

“Oh my God,” she’s gushing, “I haven’t seen you in—What’s it been now? Over ten years?” 

“Just about,” he responds easily, readjusting his grasp reassuringly on your hip as you cling to him, large palm flattening against your abdomen and hugging you closer to his side, tucked protectively beneath his arm.

“What are the chances! You look...” her eyes scan his body once, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, then back up again, and your fingers flex, coiled and rigid in the material of his shirt, stiff joints already aching. “Wow, incredible!”

“Thanks,” Touya says, an awkward lull in the conversation when he doesn’t repay the compliment. 

Their discussion meanders for a little bit—how have you been, what are you doing now, remember when...?—most of it muddled by the blood roaring in your ears and jealousy burning in your throat. 

But then her fingertip is just barely grazing his forearm as she points in indication at the ink etched into his skin, and your ears tune into their frequency again, white-hot fury slicing through hazy envy.

“I remember when you started this one,” she’s reminiscing. “You finally finished all of the pieces,” she says with another appreciative glance, and you grip him tighter, the skin of your knuckles pulled so taut it’s starting to hurt. “It’s so breathtaking to see them all come together.”

And you hate the way she speaks to him with a certain type of familiarity; an old friend, effortless and full of laughs, someone who knew him long before you did, when you were only in grade school.  

God, how rude of her not to introduce herself, she’s telling you as she finally turns toward you, finally takes notice of you, rooted in Touya’s side; a growth he planted there himself, shoved between his ribs and engrained in his soul, roots so tangled you’re both irremovable, inseparable, now.

She holds out her hand in greeting, but you only clutch Touya more firmly, nails scraping against starched cashmere, face half-hidden in his chest, childish and petulant. 

The woman’s smile drops from her face, a slow drooping of her mouth as her forehead crinkles, confusion bleeding through her features.

“She’s shy,” Touya says as way of explanation, but that wolfish smile is stretched sharply across his cheeks, teeth gleaming in the dim light.

“I see,” she says, almost hesitantly, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before they flit back to Touya’s face, expression brightening again. “Well, that’s alright! How long have you two been together?” 

And, oh, the giggle that bubbles past your lips is downright sinister, fucking caustic, burning your tongue and eroding your teeth. 

No, you’re not his girlfriend, or his partner, or his significant other. 

You’re something so much better. 

“Oh, we’re not a couple. This is my little sister.” 

And, oh, how this is always your favourite part.  

You know that it’s his favourite part, too. 

Because the way that shock and disgust eats through their confusion, fucking devours any other emotion on their face, is better than anything else in the entire world. The way their expression churns into something twisted and repulsed sends sordid little thrills racing through your veins, blood buzzing with adrenaline.

The two of you must be such a fucking sight, expressions handcrafted by the Devil himself,  with glowing eyes—gluttonous gazes gobbling up every little expression, two pairs wide and  frantic as they glide across her face—and smug little smirks, points of your mouths so sharp they could pierce the flesh of a fingertip if touched. 

Her voice sputters a little, snagging in her throat as she struggles to find the proper words, blinking rapidly, as if trying to clear the scene in front of her. 

“I—Uh, I didn’t know you had another little sister?” 

It’s phrased as a question, her voice beginning to tremble, unnerved as her stare swaps between your faces.

“My mom remarried,” Touya says simply. “This one came packaged with the deal.” 

He jostles you in his arms a little—showing off his favourite, precious, most coveted prize—and you cuddle into him, burrowing into his chest a little, fingers flexing in his dress shirt as you clutch him tighter, gathering healthy handfuls of cashmere in your scrunched palms, buttons beginning to strain beneath the strength of your grip. 

And he states it proudly, as if he’s glad to own you, to be your big brother, to call you his, staring down at you with so much fondness it melts his hard eyes, sapphire turned to something thick and gooey.

“Oh,” the woman responds, but her voice wavers through a wobbly smile on her face, lips unsure if they want to grin or grimace. “That’s cool.” 

“Yeah,” Touya responds, though his eyes do not leave yours, voice softening. “I got pretty fuckin’ lucky. Don’t think I could’ve asked for anything better.” 

You can feel the sick, sadistic glee radiating off of him in dense waves—something heavy, something intoxicating—and, if this girl knows him well enough, you’re sure she can, too. 

It’s so thick it’s nearly suffocating, but you breathe it in readily, greedily, draw it into your lungs and let it marinate in your tissues—infect, consume, decay. 

“We should go for drinks sometime!” her unnaturally chipper tone snaps the trance, draws both of your gazes back to her. “You know, to catch up and all that.”  

A noise shudders your ribs, something between a growl and a whine, and Touya laughs as if it’s so fucking cute, looking back down at you with so much adoration in his eyes it’s nearly spilling past his lashes.  

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, but his stare never breaks yours. “Thanks for the offer, though.” 

“Mr. Todoroki?” a smooth voice floats above the indistinct murmur of the venue. “Your table is ready.” 

“Ah, that’s us,” Touya says to you. 

“It was nice—”

But you’re already turning away, a single entity in the way you move, think, breathe, be. 

“I don’t like her,” you’re grumbling as Touya guides you toward the hostess, not caring that she’s still very clearly in earshot, the confession spilling from your mouth almost subconsciously, having pried past your lips, desperate to be heard. 

“I can tell, baby,” Touya snorts, though the smile on his face is soft. 

“I—I don’t even wanna eat here anymore,” you sulk, feet starting to drag, words filtered through a deep pout. “And I don’t ever want to see her again!” 

It comes out as a demand, a little harsher and firmer than you had intended, uncharacteristically surly, and Touya stops. 

Blinking down at you, Touya’s face falls, features suddenly serious, all mirth evaporated from his expression in an instant. 

His head dips, voice dropped to a low, dire murmur—something secret, something just for you.

“You want me to kill her for you? Huh, princess? Does niichan need to get rid of her?” 

And, oh, how your heart soars, swells, swoops then nearly bursts from your ribs, desperate to claw its way from your chest and into the palms of its owner. Tears rush to cloud your eyes, vision thick and bleary, and two large hands cup your jaw, tilting your face to his.

“I’ll do it, baby, I swear to God. All you gotta do is say the word.” 

He will. You know he will. You love that he will.

“I love you,” you nearly whimper, hands pawing at him urgently, the words a garbled mess in your mouth, weighted with spit and tears. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he laughs a little, but concern is warping his features, eyes sweeping across your face in search of an answer.

His hand squeezes your jaw gently, callouses decorating the pad of his palm scuffing your soft skin as he holds you in place. 

“Just tell niichan what he needs to do to make this better.”

Your gaze holds his for a moment, heavy and unblinking.

“Fuck me,” you finally say. “Remind me who I belong to, remind me who you belong to, remind the whole fucking world who we belong to.”

Sapphire turns to navy, lips spreading into something sinful. 

He can do that.

The parking lot is sparsely populated, rows of cars jagged and gapped like knocked out teeth. A small cluster of people hover outside the restaurant’s golden doors, encased in a hazy cloud of smoke and murmuring quietly amongst themselves, and a few people are scattered throughout the lot, just arriving or preparing to leave, but for the most part, you are alone. 

The Audi is parked near the back, narrowly missing a pool of white light from one of the tall lampposts. 

A chuckle is huffed from tattooed lips, shining eyes trained on your profile as you march toward the car, his long legs easily keeping up with your own. 

His baby is on a mission tonight. 

“You know, it’s really cute,” he’s saying as he presses you up against the driver’s door, “to see to see you so fucking determined.”

“Want everyone to know you belong to me,” you whine a little, forehead scrunching as your pout deepens. 

“Is that so?” 

“That is so.” 

“And how would you like to show everyone that niichan is yours?” he murmurs into your flesh, lips tracing the curve of your neck.

“Want—Want you to fuck me, right here.” 

“Right here?” his hips shove against yours in emphasis. “In the car?” 

“No,” your hips push back into his, back arching, already so needy for him. “Right here, in the parking lot. I want that bitch to see.”

And for once, you do not get scolded for such foul language. 

“Yeah?” Touya’s breathing into your mouth, hands already rucking up your little cocktail dress. “All out in the open where everyone can see how much of a little whore you are for your big brother?” 

“Right here, right here,” you’re nodding, words cracking with desperation. “Right now.” 

“So greedy, my little sister is.” 

“I don’t care,” you gasp. “Show them, Touya-nii, show them all.” 

And he’s so fucking hard you swear you can feel his cock throbbing with each rush of blood, each of your little pleads and dirty words sending another bout of it southward, swear you can feel it twitching and gorging with lust. 

“You don’t care, huh?” Hardened fingertips sink into the plush flesh of your ass, kneading a little as his hips gyrate in pitiful little circles, more teasing than anything else.

“No, no,” you’re shaking your head. “I want it now!” 

A palm collides with your flesh, hard and sharp, the sound echoing out among the space, chased by your resounding yelp. It draws a handful of glances from the throngs of people loitering around the restaurant’s entrance, but doesn’t keep their attention for long.

“Don’t be impatient, now,” Touya warns, but the glint in his eyes begs you to keep misbehaving. “Get my cock wet first.”

Your face falls as your fight fades, a small frown on your lips. 

“Wh-What?”

“You want my cock so badly, baby? Get it fucking wet, then.”

He pauses, watching you closely, smirk growing into something sinister when you freeze in hesitation.

“Aw, what’s wrong?” he pouts, and it’s so condescending it scathes your cheeks. “Not so bold and brave now? I thought you wanted everyone to know; I thought you wanted to show everyone who I belong to,” his tongue tuts, head shaking in mock disappointment, “and you can’t even take my cock down your throat?”

“I do,” you nearly growl, eyes flashing with sudden jealousy, uncharacteristically fierce. 

His expression softens, that sharp glint in his eye dulled to a smoldering glow, full of fondness. 

“Then get niichan’s cock wet,” he says, hips shoving against yours in emphasis again, “so he can fuck you properly.”

And although it is still very much a demand, a direct order, his voice is tender, his edges worn down by years of affection.

Sliding down his body, your fingers furl in the waistband of his suit pants and tug a little, pulling his hips closer to your face. The buckle of his belt clanks heavily as you tug it undone, the button on his trousers pops easily, and then you’re yanking them halfway down his thighs, freeing his cock.

It’s so fucking pretty, dusty pink from base to tip and smoother than the most expensive velvet, and you just can’t help but nuzzle your cheek into the head with a cute little hum, smearing a thick stroke of pearlescent pre-cum across your skin. 

But you know that Touya doesn’t like that, no matter how beautiful you look with his pre-cum slathered all over your face, that Touya can’t stand anything he deems even remotely teasing, and you’re quick to wrap a hand around the shaft as the beginnings of a growl rumble against his ribs, feeding him to yourself. 

“S’it, there you go,” he praises as you gorge on him, stuffing him down your throat in a single swallow, reflexive tears burning your eyes. 

Lashes flutter quickly, desperate to clear your vision, little drops of crystal collecting in the wispy strands. 

It’s pathetic, really, how much your heart soars with such bland praise. But it doesn’t matter, you don’t care, willing to soak up any scraps he’ll afford you, an addict endlessly chasing a fix.

You force your mouth open wider, hinges of your jaw stretching, straining, your tongue curling around the underside as you suck him in further, viscous globs of drool already beginning to collect at the corners of your lips. 

“Yeah, yeah, swallow me whole, baby,” he breathes, gaping pupils glittering with a thin ring of cobalt. “God, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this.”

A choked little whine, muted by his cockhead grinding itself into your throat, vibrates, evoking a cracked little moan of his own, hips twitching involuntarily, an instinctual reaction, searching for more.

The asphalt is rough against your knees, skinning them with superficial little scrapes as Touya fucks your mouth a few times; first slowly, breath huffed out through spit-slicked lips as he glides in steadily, inch by inch, voracious eyes watching as your wet mouth puckers around his shaft, coating it in thick, gleaming saliva.

He whimpers a little as the tip of your nose scrunches so cutely as he presses it to his pubic bone, holds it for a breath and savours the way your throat flutters with hiccups and gags before pulling nearly all the way from your mouth, repeating the process as he gains momentum; then faster, harder, cockhead rubbing against the back of your tongue, each quick stroke leaving bitter streaks of pre-cum.

And you hate how his palms are pressed against your ears, muffling every sweet sound you manage to elicit from him as he holds your head still, his thumbs pressing into your cheekbones, nails biting shallow crescents into the skin as they dig deeper, grasp tightening as your face becomes slippery with tears, cascading over his knuckles. 

Even so, his grip isn’t enough to keep the back of your skull from banging off the door of the Audi, each thrust procuring a dull thud of flesh against metal.

And, Christ, what a beautiful symphony it all creates; the rhythmic sound of your head thwacking against his car, the dainty jingle of his belt buckle, hanging heavy and undone and bouncing between your chin and his thigh, those precious gags and gurgles and sniffles and hiccups that he loves so much, choked off and snuffed out as his cock rams them back into your chest, the half-stifled sounds that keep shattering to pieces on his tongue, shards swallowed down with difficulty, scraping against the walls of his throat and leaving his voice ragged and raw. 

“Alright, alright, that’s enough,” he’s panting as his fingers thread through your hair, fisting at the roots and dragging you off of him. “S’a shame, because you look so pretty,” a rough thumb skims over your swollen, glossy lip, his gaze following its trajectory. “But I wanna cum in your cunt, not your throat.” 

And then he’s pulling you back up from the ground, strong arms wedged beneath your own and hoisting you into the air, your legs instinctually wrapping around his waist, locked securely at the ankles as they hook together at the base of his spine, thighs squeezing around his hips in anticipation. 

He pins you to the metal of the Audi, one palm securely cupping your ass as the other wraps around the base of his cock, hips inching back just enough to find your hole.

The head, now slicked with your spit, glides over your clit twice—a cheeky little tease, just to hear you whine his name again, all stringy and petulant through a swollen pout—then down your slit until it catches on your hole. 

It stings as he forces himself into you, always does no matter how wet you are, no matter how much you’ve slobbered all over his shaft, because Touya routinely refuses to prep you at all—not that you would’ve let him, not tonight—because he loves it, too, he loves it just as much as you do. 

He loves the sharp little hiss pushed through the gaps of your teeth by your tongue, he loves the gentle fluttering of your cunt as your most delicate skin stretches, splits itself open for him, to suck him in and swallow him down, he loves that sweet sigh that melts from your mouth as he bottoms out, slathered over his own huff of breath, conjoined relief. 

“Touya-nii, Touya-nii,” you’re whimpering out, fingers curling against his shoulders.

“M’here, baby, m’here,” he pants out, forehead pushing against your own, eyes slipped shut. 

And for a moment everything is still, breath held stagnant in swelling lungs as you both savour this feeling—of fullness, of closeness, of wholeness—appreciation unhindered by noisy exhales or slapping skin.

Then his hips are moving, gyrating in little circles that gain speed with each completed motion, cockhead grinding into your cervix.

He can’t exactly fuck you properly like this, can’t exactly fuck you like he wants to, like he normally would, not all out in the open like this.

But he manages to make do, the pace quick right from the start, shallow fast snaps of his hips that have the buckle of his belt is clanging against his car, leaving superficial little scratches just below the door handle.

It’s all still so fucking hot, though, his forehead pressed tightly to yours as he exhales nicotine-tinged breath across your face, each one pushed from his chest with the rapid little ruts of his hips. 

It’s all so fucking naughty, fucking out in the open where anyone who’s paying more than a shred of attention can see, his movements just barely hidden by the flesh of your thighs, cushioning his hips. 

The thought that anyone could be watching, touching themselves, filming you has your muscles tightening and your stomachs fluttering, the dirty, illicit nature inspiring another rush of adrenaline to taint your blood.

Your mouth drops open, starved for more of him—never satisfied, are you, greedy lil thing—welcoming his huffs onto your tongue, spicy and sweet as hickory. Your tongue unfurls from your mouth, dumb and lazy and so fucking messy, licking at his lips in quick, uneven strokes, sopping up any remnants of his essence.

The tip slithers between his parted lips, kittenishly lapping at the edges of his teeth, tracing the sharp ridges one by one, and he laughs, warm and airy. 

His own tongue shoves against yours, pushing it from his mouth and back into it’s rightful home before he flattens the slick muscle against your face and drags it, slow and steady, from the point of you chin to the tip of your nose, leaving behind a thick, fat trail of cooling saliva painted across your face.

The action has you squealing, scrunching up your nose as you involuntarily suck your bottom lip between your teeth and suck it clean.

His scent is strong, now saturating your skin as it dries, tight and hard, on your face, sealed by the breathless little giggle he exhales across your cheeks. 

And, Christ, he’s so fucking gorgeous, strands of alabaster plastered to his forehead and stuck to his temples in scraggly strings, clumped into damp little tufts that curl up at the base of his neck, drops of sweat balancing precariously on the points. 

His rough, quick movements have them breaking free, glistening drops of sweat rolling down his puckered skin, tracing the curve of his neck, streaking ink and ivory with glimmering little trails. They pool in the dips of his collarbones and soak into the collar of his shirt, turning cashmere translucent. 

The sleek muscles in his forearms flex beneath inked skin, gliding as he readjusts his grip, holds you closer, hugs you tighter, fucks you harder. 

His whole body is covered in a sheen layer of sweat, urgently chasing that high that only his little sister can gift him, sharp pistons of his hips keeping you pinned to the car while he uses you as his personal little toy, his favourite little toy, forcing you to just take it. 

And yet, despite it all, his eyes are bright, his lips molded into a brilliant smile, a sick sort of love stained with exhilaration—the thrill of getting caught: fucking all out in the open, fucking your family—brimming in his gaze.

He’s such a fucking pro, knows you and your body better than anyone else ever has, ever could, ever will, angling his hips so they fuck you just right, each stroke of his cock an upward curve, dragging against that puffy spot buried deep within your cunt, head swiping against your cervix with each draw back.

Across the lot, that girl is fiddling with the keys to her shitty little car, rooting around for something in her bag, and Touya laughs—a loud, booming sound, heavy with deranged delight that echoes throughout the space, garnering the attention of a smattering of bystanders. 

“Look,” he nudges his head to the right, your gaze following his own, slippery cheeks pressed flush together. “She’s watching. She can see you, sweetheart—can see us, can see you’re mine and I’m yours.” 

Good. If she hadn’t already figured it out before, it should be abundantly fucking obvious now, who he belongs to. 

“She—She looks disgusted,” you snicker. 

Even from several meters away, she does, you can tell, face twisted up somewhere between horror and shock, eyes wide and unblinking as they scan your conjoined forms, brow scrunched and chest beginning to heave.

She looks like she’s going to be sick.

You hope she is.

“Oh, she doesn’t even know—fuck—the half of it, does she?” Touya keens, hips faltering for just a moment before regaining their momentum. “Why don’t we give her something to really be repulsed by?” 

Yes, yes, yes, you’re nodding your head, little mewls of affirmation spilling from your throat.

“Give your big brother a kiss, then.” 

And oh, how eager you are, ever his good girl, ever his best girl, arms tightening around his neck as you pull yourself closer, smashing your lips to his. Dainty fingers thread through the hair at the back of his scalp, soaked with salt, and tug harshly, enough to have a reactionary hiss slipping through his teeth. 

Using the opportunity, you suck his bottom lip into your mouth between your teeth, clamp down hard and yank backwards, so hard his lip stretches like shimmering, pink bubblegum, gums beginning to strain until it finally slides free of your hold, teeth scraping against flesh. He spits out a curse, muddled and chased by a laugh, tongue laving over the indents you left, now weeping copper.

“Niichan’s gonna get you back for that one,” he says, sadistic glee shimmering in his eyes almost as pretty as the crimson glazing his mouth. 

You’re sure he will, too, later tonight, with that cherished knife you gifted him last year.

The giggle that pours past your lips is fucking raucous, leaves your tongue sticky and tingling, so wicked it rivals your brother. 

“I wanna show her, niichan,” you’re panting out, voice fading into a whine. “I want to show her that you’re mine.” 

“Do it, baby,” he breathes. “Show the whole world how fucking gorgeous you look cumming for your big brother.”

Three more rapid pumps of his hips and you’re convulsing around him, cunt clenching almost viciously around his cock as your heat gushes down his shaft, sticky and messy and so much, so much it pools in the folds of his heavy balls, so much it streams down his taut thighs and soaks the waistband of his trousers, so much it dribbles down the metal of the Audi, smeared across the door in sloppy strokes.

“Mi-Mine,” you growl, thighs squeezing around him as if you’re attempting to milk more juices from yourself, trying to stain him with you and stake your claim. 

“Yeah,” he nearly moans, hips beginning to stutter. “Yours, baby, niichan’s yours. Tell him again.” 

“You’re mine!” you sob out, nails gripping the sleek muscle of his shoulders with such strength the joints of your fingers crack and ache, clawing at him as if you’re trying to gorge every part of you on him, eat up every piece of him you can, stuff every bit of you as full of him as physically possible. 

“Fu-Fuck,” he keens, the curse shattering in his throat. “That’sa—That’s my good girl.”

He’s close now, you can tell; can hear it in the way his words keep splintering on his tongue, can feel it in the way his thrusts have gone from precise and particular to loose and sloppy, an urgent, uneven rutting of his hips.

“Fill me, fill me, fill me with your cock, niichan,” you’re gasping out, scrabbling at his neck, scraping skin and sweat beneath your nails. “Fill me with your cum, fill me so much, fill me until I can’t take anymore and it starts le-leaking out, all—all over the place.” 

And, well, he’s never been one to deny his precious baby sister what she wants. 

Because then he’s complying, hips stammering to a halt and pressed flush to your ass as his cock throbs, stuffing you full of thick, burning cream. 

“More! More, more,” you’re gasping out as you try to fuck yourself on his twitching cock, desperate to pump him for everything he’s got to give, eliciting a breathless, broken little laugh falling from his lips. 

“S’all yours,” he manages to slur out, slumping a little against his car, knees beginning to quiver as his cock strives to please you, giving another weak spurt of cum. “S’all yours, princess, always.” 

[ckret2]

Chapter 31 of human Bill grudgingly enduring being the Pines' prisoner because the Henchmaniacs won't take his call: Summerween night! Everyone gets ridiculous costumes!

The Summerween Trickster's buddies are attempting to resurrect him. Robbie's making a music video. Bill's attempting to woo Ford back into friendship, to terrify Dipper with cursed knowledge, and to recover his dignity from THE most gentle chastising imaginable, and he only succeeds in 1 out of 3 of these endeavors:

It's not this one. He's just gotta process these emotions while wearing that stupid wig.

####

Soos was putting the final touches on his cosplay (the suave and mysterious Masked Guy In A Suit, love interest of the heroine from the classic anime Teenage Planetary Soldier Girls) when he heard the phone ring in the office. "Hold on, I'll get it!" He hurried downstairs, ducked under a construction paper chain Mabel had strung over the door, picked up the phone, and said, "Hello?"

A mysterious voice droned, "The sun sets a deep blood red."

"Oh, no thanks, we don't want any." Soos hung up, sighed happily, and said, "Ah, Summerween. Always brings out the weirdos."

"Hey Soos!" Mabel ducked into the doorway. "Where's the candy bowl?"

"Oh, hey Hambone. It's in my bedroom." He put on a stage whisper. "I put it in there so Bill couldn't steal it."

"Thanks Soos!" She ran upstairs.

Dipper and Bill waited downstairs, the tension thick between them (on Dipper's side, anyway; Bill—watching a black-and-white horror movie, sipping at a can of cider, and brooding over going to voicemail—didn't notice). Dipper was waiting by the door in a folding chair; but he kept glancing toward Bill in the living room. When the silence got too much to bear, he asked, "Okay, what are you dressed as?"

Bill was wearing a brown bedsheet toga (the most historically-accurate part of his costume); a cheap wig of a teased mullet that had ended up mostly red with yellow streaks, forming a plume of hair right over his head and then a long straight tail he'd draped over his shoulder; and a bunch of paper faux-Greek homes taped all around the hem of his toga, forming a ring around his calves.

"And are those my sandals?" Dipper asked.

"Take it up with Mabel, she loaned them on your behalf," Bill said. "I'm not telling my costume. You have to guess it."

"Seriously?" Dipper sighed. It had to be a god, gods towered over their mortals' temples. What god would wear brown? "I don't know—Demeter?"

"What? No. Do I seem like the Demeter type? Pathetic." Bill waved off his guess. As Mabel ran downstairs, Bill said, "Hey, Shooting Star, you haven't made your official guess yet."

Without hesitation, Mabel said, "A time-traveling hair metal singer touring the Roman Empire and trying to find a way home before his hair dye runs out."

"Wrong, but I would love to live in the world you've dreamed up." He meandered into the entryway to join Mabel as she plopped down in the second chair by the door.

Dipper screwed up his face. "Are you helping us answer the door?"

"No, you're helping me answer the door. I'm cursed, remember?" Bill leaned over Mabel's shoulder, dug into the candy bowl, and popped a lollipop in his mouth. "But you're not getting rid of me, if that's what you're asking."

Soos headed to the door, cape billowing dramatically behind him. "Hey dudes. Hey Bill." He paused in the door, studying Bill. "Hey! Is that a Bobo the Uncouth Berserker cosplay?"

Bill blinked. "Who?"

"Bobo the Uncouth Berserker! You've gotta read Bobo. He's this primitive hero descended from lost Lemuria who goes on daring adventures through the lush impenetrable jungles of Central Europe. He's got this comic that was so popular it spawned an anime, which got an American movie adaptation, which formed the basis of a second comic continuity that isn't as critically acclaimed as the original but has drawn in a lot of new fans... and..." Soos petered out. "You're not Bobo, are you."

Bill shook his head. "Thanks for playing."

"Aw." Soos's shoulders slumped. "Anyway—me and Melody are gonna be at the cosplay contest at the theater. I'll keep my phone on in case of monsters."

"We'll be fine!" Mabel said. "Go have fun!"

"You too!" With a dramatic flourish of his cape, Soos disappeared into the night.

Bill watched Soos go enviously. He could have been given a human body that looked that good in a suit and top hat, but was he? No. It wasn't fair. And Soos didn't even wear the right hat size.

Dipper glanced sideways at Bill. "Hey. Is... Lemuria real?"

"Not anymore." Bill perked up as Stan passed by, dressed like Frankenstein's monster. "Hey, Stanley! You haven't guessed yet. What am I?"

Stan surveyed him. "White columned buildings, Statue of Liberty dress, and a red clown wig. I dunno, the American government?"

Bill squawked in laughter. "That's my favorite wrong answer so far. I like you, Stanley." He fished a chocolate bar out of the bowl and held it out.

Stan grunted in disapproval, but accepted the candy. "If any of you need me, I'm gonna be up on the roof, terrifying kids." He held up a boombox and a cassette that said "Spooky Sound Effects of Halloween". "If you hear screaming children, don't worry: that means I'm winning."

"Where's your brother?" Bill asked.

"Avoiding you." Stan passed through the living room and left.

Bill's shoulders slumped; but he just dug into the candy bowl for more chocolate. Then the first trick-or-treater knocked on the door, and Dipper jumped up in relief to answer it.

The shack didn't attract quite as many trick-or-treaters as the houses closer to the center of town, but they got a steady stream of children, and more than they'd gotten the year before. Between visitors, Bill dug into their candy stock, gleefully ignoring Dipper's complaints. After the fourth or fifth visitor, Dipper and Mabel realized that Bill was covering up the amount of candy he'd pilfered by meticulously re-folding the empty wrappers and putting them back in the bowl.

"It's fair play," Bill said. He untwisted one end of a Twisty Roll tube, squeezed out the candy, blew into the wrapper to re-inflate it, and twisted the end shut again. "The kids are trick-or-treating, right? Sometimes they get treats and sometimes they get tricks."

"Come on, seriously?" Dipper said. "Even for you this is low. You're literally taking candy from babies."

"The babies are trying to take candy from us. I have no sympathy." With the precision of an origami master, Bill refolded a paper fruit chew wrapper into a box and dropped it back into the bowl.

"They're supposed to take candy from us, that's how the holiday works." Dipper looked at Mabel for support.

But she was holding up an empty 3 Fencers wrapper and squeezing it lightly between her fingers. "Wow. How did you make the wrapper puffy again? It's so convincing."

Bill shot Dipper a nasty smile, then turned to Mabel and said magnanimously, "I'll teach you everything I know." He twirled a glue stick between his fingers.

Another trick-or-treater knocked, and Dipper answered.

"Trick or treat! Please give us the worst candy you have."

Mabel blinked, leaning around Dipper to see who was outside. "Wait, what?"

Outside stood a purple-furred monster with a dozen limbs from a dozen different creatures. He gasped in surprise. "Ohhh, twin costumes! That's so cute! What are you two, haunted dolls?"

Dipper took a surprised step back. "Limby Jimmy?"

The monster was silent a moment, taken aback. He took off a bear mask he'd made out of a paper plate. "Is it that obvious?"

Mabel asked, "Have we...?"

Dipper said, "Oh! Sorry—Mabel, this is Limby Jimmy, I ran into him last year in the Crawlspace under town when I was trying to get your face back—"

Helpfully, Bill threw in, "He's Gravity Falls' most accomplished arms dealer. And legs dealer, and tails dealer, and ears dealer..."

"Limby, this is my sister Mabel. Actually, I don't know if I ever introduced myself—"

Limby Jimmy cut in, "Ohhh, yeah, I remember you! You're Troll Boy, right?"

Dipper winced. "It's—it's Dipper, actually." He paused. "Wow. We meet a lot of weird people."

"Nice to meet you, Jimmy!" Mabel held out a hand. After a moment of thought, Jimmy elected to shake it with a tentacle and a dog's paw.

"What are you doing up here?" Dipper asked. "Is Summerween the one night of the year that Gravity Falls' monsters can walk among humans without fear?"

"Oh no, I'm terrified. I wouldn't be out here if I wasn't collecting donations," Jimmy said.

"Donations?"

Jimmy hesitated, then lowered his voice. "You've been in the Crawlspace, so, you and your sister are cool, but is the lady...?" He wiggled a hoof toward Bill.

Coolly, Bill said, "I'm actually an ancient interdimensional energy being cursed to wear a human form."

Dipper and Mabel flinched in alarm and rounded on Bill, hissing, "Bill!" "Shhh!"

Ignoring them, Bill said, "So, continue."

"Oh," Jimmy said brightly. "That's all right then, yuk yuk." He wiggled his multitude of right arms. "I don't know if you humans have heard yet, but the Summerween Trickster got eaten to death last summer! It's really sad!"

Dipper and Mabel, who had watched as he was eaten to death, stayed quiet.

"But probably happy for him?" Jimmy mused. "Since I think that's what he wanted? But it's sad for the rest of his poker group, we all miss him! So I'm out here with Doug—"

"Who?" Dipper asked, looking around the porch for a second monster.

"Oh, he's back there." Jimmy pointed toward a tree at the edge of the clearing around the Mystery Shack. The tree chittered unnervingly. "We're going around collecting donations to resurrect the Trickster! Or... re-summon him? Or however this works. We never really asked him how he came to exist, it seemed rude."

"Naturally," Bill said. "You can't just ask a freak what made him so freaky. It's a sensitive topic."

"Right! You understand," Jimmy said. "Anyway, we need a lot of crappy candy!" He looked at their bowl. "Which pieces have the kids been ignoring this year?"

Mabel had started bouncing on the balls of her dusty Victorian ghost shoes; and the moment she had a turn to speak, she squealed in excitement. "You're the Summerween Trickster's friend! That's perfect! Stay here, I'll be right back!" She shoved the candy bowl into Bill's arms and zoomed up the stairs. "I've got some stuff for him!"

Bill looked at the bowl, looked at the stairs, shoved the candy in Dipper's arms, and followed Mabel. "Hey, Shooting Star? What are you doing?"

Her voice drifted down the stairs: "Getting a donation! I'll be just a minute!"

"Hold on, you're actually helping that guy?" Bill laughed. "Why?" He climbed high enough to poke his head above the attic floor  and lowered his voice so Jimmy couldn't hear. "I wasn't paying that much attention last Summerween, but I got the impression from your little costume store brawl that the Trickster was trying to kill you kids. Am I missing something?"

"I mean, yeah, he was—but he was in a really bad place back then, that doesn't mean he deserves to be dead for it. And now he knows someone out there wants to eat him, so maybe he'll be less insecure and evil." Mabel laughed, "Anyway, the Trickster isn't that bad! He didn't try to kill me half as hard as you did!"

Bill froze a couple of steps from the top of the stairs. He didn't move for a few seconds; and then wordlessly, he slunk back downstairs.

Dipper watched as Bill, face beet red, trudged into the living room. "Hey. What's Mabel...?"

"How should I know." Bill curled up on the couch, picked up the can of cider he'd been drinking earlier, shotgunned it, and glowered at the horror movie on TV.

Dipper considered Bill—all alone in the living room and not doing anything important—and considered Mabel, upstairs; and said, "Hey, Jimmy. Do you mind waiting out here until Mabel gets back."

"Sure! I don't have any plans." Jimmy rocked back on his many heels.

"Cool. Thanks." Dipper shut the door.

He sidled oh so very casually into the living room and leaned against the TV. "Guess it's just the two of us right now."

Bill's gaze didn't waver from the TV. "Terrific counting skills, Troll Boy." He popped open another cider can.

Dipper grit his teeth. Let it go. "Sooo! You're from the second dimension, huh? What's that like?" (His voice cracked embarrassingly on "that.") "Just—just curious. Making friendly conversation. Caaasual conversation." He flashed a pair of finger guns at Bill, to underscore just how casual he was. "Yyyep." Witness the junior paranormal investigator in action.

Bill turned the cold, empty eyes of a killer on Dipper. He took a long, slow sip from his cider. And he asked himself: what can I say that will make this stupid boy regret ever daring to speak to me?

Bill smiled. "Yeah. Sure. Okay," he said. "You wanna know what it's like? Have you ever read the Allegory of the Cave?"

Dipper hesitated. "By... Plato?"

"That one. You know—ignorance is like being a prisoner chained in a cave, watching shadow puppets being cast on a wall, and thinking they're reality; and having knowledge is like being outside the cave in the sunlight, seeing the real shapes that are casting the shadows—"

"I have read it, actually," Dipper said, a tad defensively. "It was for extra credit in—"

"English class, I know."

Dipper frowned; but he soldiered on. "So... living in the second dimension is like being chained in a cave, staring at the shadows on the wall, and thinking that's reality? Bleak."

Bill laughed so loudly that Dipper started. "Wow, you're so dumb! Use your brain, kid: it's the second dimension. You're not the prisoner: you're the shadow on the wall." Bill's lip curled in a sneer, "An illusion in somebody else's allegory. And the only one who can see the cave's exit... is you. That's what the second dimension is like!" He laughed again. It sounded forced.

"Oh," Dipper mumbled. He tried to wrap his head around the idea of being a living metaphor for ignorance. "Sounds... pretty bad?"

"Awful," Bill agreed. "Doesn't hold a candle to what your dimension has going on, though."

"Wh... why, what's going on in the third dimension?"

Bill gave him a malicious smile, and Dipper had the sinking feeling he'd just walked into an obvious trap. "You idiot, you still think you're in the third dimension? Really?"

Was that a trick question? What answer was Bill looking for? What could this be if not the third dimension? "Nnooo?"

"Wow. I can really see why you're a straight-A's honors student," Bill said. "You're so good at figuring out what answer the test wants and regurgitating it—even if you don't actually understand it at all." He heaved himself back to his feet; and Dipper was sure there was something threatening in the movement—something that reminded Dipper that he was talking to a dangerously unstable extinction level event precariously packed into an unsteady human body. "Although copying the year of the Louisiana Purchase off of Brandon's test in fifth grade  probably didn't hurt, did it."

Dipper's stomach dropped. The secret shame buried beneath the foundation of his honors roll-worthy record. Pull that out and his entire academic career came toppling down. He'd get kicked out of the honors classes. He'd go to jail. Was cheating against the law? "H... how did—?"

"What year was the Louisiana Purchase?"

Dipper's brain immediately went blank. He was silent, trapped in the paralyzing intensity of Bill's gaze. After several terrifying seconds, he croaked, "1803?" and hoped he was right.

"Attaboy. Too bad you couldn't have learned that a little sooner, isn't it?" As he spoke, Bill had closed in on Dipper until he'd backed him into the corner behind the TV set, filling Dipper's exit route with one hand on the TV and the other on the wall. "But we were talking about dimensions, weren't we! Whaddaya like to read, kid," Bill asked too casually, "do you like cosmic horror? Do you know what real 'cosmic horror' is?"

Dipper regretted this conversation completely.

"It's having an eyeball on the inside of your body, and seeing another dimension through it. And ohoho, I think you'd be amazed at the things I can see from here—"

Dipper got the distinct impression that if he didn't get out of this conversation, he would only hear things he'd be telling his therapist about for months. "Cool! Good talk, man. Hey Mabel?" (That was an absolutely humiliating voice crack.) "How's it going?"

A pause. "I think I need help!"

"Coming!" Dipper ran behind the TV to escape Bill and gratefully bolted upstairs.

The kid had caved so fast. And Bill had only just been getting started. He smirked, sat, and turned back to the movie.

A moment later, Mabel and Dipper came back downstairs, carrying four bulging plastic grocery bags. Mabel set one by her feet, opened the door, and shoved the first bag into Jimmy's arms. "Here! You can give these to the Trickster!" She shoved over the second bag.

Jimmy stumbled back under the weight. "Whoa there! What is this?"

"Candy chalk-hearts! I completely bought out the leftovers after Valentine's Day," Mabel said. "I wanted to make sure that if we met the Trickster again, I could let him know he's loved and appreciated as the terrifying avatar of spooky holiday spirit that he is! And that I also respect that he's made out of gross candy nobody likes to eat." She picked up a chalk-heart box and waved it in Jimmy's face. "So here's a gross candy that expresses love! See, the little hearts say things like 'You smell nice' and 'I heart ur face,' but they taste like if dehydration was a flavor."

Dipper handed his bags to Jimmy. "Wait—Mabel, that's why you got all these? You've been planning to help the Trickster since February? I thought you were gonna build a chalk-heart house or something."

"Oooh, that's such a good idea. I should do that next year!" To Jimmy, she said, "I was gonna give these to him personally, but if he's still dead, I guess you can add it to his candy sacrifice pile or whatever? And make sure he gets this!" She handed Jimmy a store bought Shimmery Twinkleheart Valentine's card. It read, "I BELIEVE in our friendship! Happy Valentine's Day!" Mabel had scratched out "Valentine's" and written "Summerween".

Choked up, Jimmy said, "Oh—wow. That's the nicest thing anyone's done for us all night. I'm sure the Trickster will really appreciate it when he's not dead anymore."

Dipper was a little more vengeful. Dipper didn't want to do anything for one of the many guys that had tried to kill them last year. But, on the other hand, Mabel had just gone all in on this, and Jimmy seemed nice enough, so... Dipper sighed. Whatever, it was Summerween and this was a trick-or-treater. "Hey," he picked up the candy bowl. "There's really only one bag of good candy in here. The bottom of the bowl is filled with after-dinner mints our great uncle's been stealing from restaurants for the last six months. The Trickster would probably love that, right?"

"Aww—thanks so much, you guys! We'll have the poker group back together in no time!" Jimmy dug past the good candy and started scooping mints into his bag. "Oh—since I'm here, can I ask about our other poker buddy? Do either of you know Mr. What's-His-Face? He disappeared around the time you were visiting the Crawlspace, maybe one of you saw something? Any information would be helpful." Jimmy looked at them with weird, plus-shaped, but very hopeful eyes. "Between the Trickster's death and Whatsis disappearing, the local paranormal community's been hit hard. Especially us guys in their friend group. I'm—I'm not gonna lie," Jimmy heaved a sigh, "It's been a really hard year."

Dipper and Mabel, who were directly and personally at fault for Mr. What's-His-Face's disappearance and knew he was frozen in stasis in Ford's bunker at that very moment, exchanged a look and came to a silent agreement.

"Nope, don't know anything," Mabel said.

"Sorry, buddy," Dipper said.

Like the Summerween Trickster, Mr. What's-His-Face was a weird faceless shapeshifty monster that had tried to kill them. But they felt like that was where the similarities ended.

By the time of the Trickster's death, Mabel and Dipper had realized that his deepest inner longing was to be called good enough to eat. Mr. What's-His-Face's deepest inner longing was to steal innocent people's faces. If Mabel and Dipper helped resurrect the Trickster, he'd probably go back to ensuring everyone displayed sufficient holiday spirit, while hopefully mellowing out about eating people now that he'd been consumed once. On the other hand, if Mabel and Dipper helped free Mr. What's-His-Face, he'd probably just keep stealing faces.

And on top of all that, they could help resurrect the Trickster without admitting they knew the guy who ate him. They couldn't really lead Jimmy to Mr. What's-His-Face without admitting their great uncle was keeping him captive. And that would be a problem for the whole family.

"Oh," Jimmy said. "Okay, that's fine. Thanks for all your help. You know where to reach us if you hear anything."

Mabel shook her head. Dipper nodded. "Yeah, we'll let you know."

Jimmy hopped off the porch, shouted, "Hey Doug, can you help me carry these?" and chucked a couple of bags of chalk-hearts toward the tree line. Dipper and Mabel stared. Nothing emerged to pick the bags up.

They shut the door.

"Man," Dipper said. "We kinda devastated the paranormal poker group last summer, didn't we?"

"Yeah." Mabel sucked in a breath between her teeth. "Wow. Feels... kinda bad."

Dipper offered her the candy bowl. "Drown our feelings in chocolate?"

"Please."

They grabbed a piece of candy each, tore open the wrappers—and frowned. Mabel stomped a foot. "Dang it—Bill!"

"Hm?"

"How many of these wrappers are empty?!"

Bill poked his head out of the living room and said, smugly, "Like candy from a baby!"

####

A knock, and Dipper opened the door. "Wendy! Hey! Good timing—"

"Hey." Wendy lowered her voice. "Quick question—this is super important—is Goldie here?"

"Uh—yeah, why—?"

"Yello?" Bill carefully wove his way out of the living room, already less steady on his feet than when he'd sat down. "I heard my name, who's summoning me?"

Wendy pointed over the twins at Bill and turned to shout into the dark, "Ladies and gentlemen! I present to you! Live and in person... Toga Lady!"

A half dozen teenagers immediately went bananas. Hooting and hollering and cheering and whistling: "To-ga! To-ga! To-ga!"

Bill's entire face lit up. Without missing a beat, he pushed past the baffled twins out onto the porch and spread his arms wide, basking in the cheering. "That's right, keep it coming! Worship me! I'm the greatest!"

"Yes!" Robbie pumped a fist in the air. "The legends were true!" Nate immediately added, "The prophecy! The prophecy!" Tambry snapped photos of Toga Lady's fresh look as fast as her phone could save them, muttering, "Everyone's gonna flip when they find out you're still in town."

Wendy waited, grinning, until her friends' faux hysterics had died down. "Okay—okay, after getting you hyped up, I should probably say that Toga Lady is actually Toga Guy." She glanced questioningly at Bill. "I think?"

"Eh, I'm not picky."

"Anyway this is Goldie, he was stuck in another dimension for thirty years, it's crazy, and now he's like my illegal backup cashier. He actually... doesn't usually wear togas?"

Bill laughed. "If you can't wear a bedsheet on Summerween, when can you?"

Lee said, "Thompson wore a bedsheet to homecoming."

"Hey."

Bill pointed at Thompson. "A man of impeccable fashion! I like it!" Thompson gave him a look of eternal gratitude.

"And Goldie, this is the gang! That's Thompson, he's the guy with the van; Robbie and Tambry, they're like, gender-swapped versions of each other, they even share their hair dye..."

As Wendy did introductions, Mabel whispered to Dipper, "Did you know she was gonna introduce Goldie to everyone?"

"No! This is bad, I told her not to trust him..."

Bill was responding to a question, "No, no, you've gotta guess, I'm making everyone guess!"

The teens considered the question. Robbie offered first, "Punk caveman?"

"Nope!"

Hesitantly, Thompson tried, "Nero fiddling over the burning of Rome?" He winced when Lee laughed.

"I like where your head's at, but no! I can't fiddle."

"The gremlin king from Huge Maze?" Tambry said.

Mabel piped up, "No, but the wig came from a gremlin king costume and I appreciate you for recognizing that!" Tambry nodded in cool approval.

Bill dispensed of Lee, Nate, and Wendy's guesses—Greek Christmas tree, that one guy who keeps painting burning banks, and hair metal Hades—before Robbie loudly cleared his throat to cut in. "Anyway, would love to stay and chat, but we've gotta move if we wanna be in position before sunset. Dipper, Mabel, you ready?"

"Ready to ghost it up!" Mabel said, squeezing around Bill with Dipper onto the porch.

Robbie surveyed their makeup—deathly white skin, ashen grey lips, and dark circles around their eye sockets. "Yeah, that's pretty good. Could use a little color, maybe. Like bloody tears?" He turned toward Tambry.

She said, "I think I've got some red eyeliner."

"'In position'?" Bill asked, giving Dipper and Mabel a questioning look.

Wendy said, "We're helping Robbie film this music video tonight."

"We're the creepy ghost twins!" Mabel announced proudly. "We get to sing the chorus."

Robbie said, "Yeah, the song's about childhood and growing up, but like, with ghosts? Because once you've grown up, your childhood is all dead? It's metal, but introspective. I'm calling the genre 'intrometal.'" He flipped his bangs dramatically. "It's a super deep song. Metaphorical layers."

"Oh yeah?" Bill stared Robbie down. "Sing some of it."

Robbie blinked. "Oh. Yeah, okay uh, I haven't warmed up my voice but, the hook is like—" He pantomimed playing a guitar and whisper-screamed, "'BABY DOLLS! BASKET BALLS! BASKET CASE! HUMAN RACE!' Like that."

Bill nodded slowly, face expressionless. "Ah, yeah, I see. Really deep stuff. Makes you think."

"Thanks." Robbie looked at Dipper and Mabel. "Anyway, if we're gonna get any footage in the graveyard before the jack-o'-melons start burning out, we've gotta move. Let's go, Creepy Ghost Twins."

"Wait, you're going out?" Bill asked Mabel. "Like out-out? Leaving me here? By myself? On Summerween?"

"Wh—yeah, we're only handing out candy for half the night," Mabel said. "I told you that."

"No you didn't!"

"Yes I did!"

"When?"

Mabel thought. "No I didn't," she admitted. "Sorry!"

Wendy punched Bill's arm. "Sorry to steal them. We'll be back in a couple of hours," she said. "Or you could come help—?"

"No!" Dipper and Mabel both shoved Bill back into the house before he could accept. Dipper said, "You've gotta—guard the house." Mabel added, "And hand out candy!"

"Right," Bill said flatly. "Yes. That. Ha."

"See you later!" Mabel said, and then shut the door in his face.

The last thing he heard was Wendy explaining to her friends, "He's on house arrest for, like, academic plagiarism and war crimes or something..." and then they were gone.

Bill's shoulders slumped. Well, now what? He couldn't celebrate a holiday by himself. What was the point of wearing a costume if no one sees you in it. He picked up a piece of candy, discovered it was one of his decoys, and picked up another. 

Someone knocked on the door.

"Yeah, yeah," Bill sighed. He picked up the candy bowl, turned toward the door, and paused. Ah. Right. What was he supposed to do with this impenetrable portal-blocking slab of wood.

Who was left in the house? Stan on the roof, Ford in the basement, Abuelita probably already in bed... were any of them worth harassing to help him answer the door? Maybe Stan, he'd gotten all dressed up, he liked the holiday even if he didn't like Bill—

The trick-or-treater knocked more insistently.

Or. Or.

He could pick up the bowl, peer out the small window in the door, and make direct eye contact with the children outside while he ate candy.

As a piece of mid-tier chocolate melted on his tongue, he saw three trick-or-treaters' faces fall as their faith in a kind, caring universe died. He grinned at them and ate another chocolate.

Oh yeah. He grabbed the rest of his cider from the living room and set up post next to the door. This would keep him entertained the rest of the night.

####

He made seven small children cry.

####

Stan watched from his post on the roof as yet another sobbing kid ran away from the shack. "HA! Gottem! Sucker!" He affectionately patted his boombox. "Creepy ghoulish laughter, you never disappoint! Terrifying moochers since 1989!" He paused the cassette and rewound it a few seconds to replay the best part.

He heard a scraping sound above him, and looked up just in time to see Ford sliding down the roof to join him. "Oh, hey! I didn't think we'd see you again tonight."

"Mabel made me promise to celebrate Summerween a little."

"Good for her!"

Stan had already claimed the sun lounger, so Ford brushed some dust and leaves off the roof's cooler and sat. "So, what are we doing? Scaring trick-or-treaters?"

"Yep. This year I'm taking a more atmospheric approach." He gestured at his boombox, which by now was playing haunting organ music. "Nothing like screaming zombies and rattling chains from nowhere to freak out the kids."

Ford nodded. "Psychological torment. I approve."

"Not quite as good as getting to see the terror in their eyes, but." Stan shrugged. "Bill was hanging out with the kids. I didn't want to put up with him."

"Mm. There's a reason I was spending the holiday in the basement."

"Heh. Well, there's always Halloween."

They were silent for a moment, listening as the cassette moved on from organ music to werewolf howls. Stan asked, "Think we'll be rid of him by then? I know we were hoping to be done with him before the Fourth of July—but since I haven't heard anything lately, I figure you hit a roadblock."

Ford winced. "Guilty as charged." He was still relearning how to keep other people in the loop. Even Stan. "You're right. I have a weapon that can destroy him, but I can't find a fuel source without restarting the portal. I'm hoping Fiddleford will come up with a solution I haven't."

Stan nodded. Ford had told him he was getting Fiddleford involved; even as reluctant as Ford was to admit how little progress he'd made, he wasn't going to tell someone outside the family about Bill without letting Stan know. "Any breakthroughs on his end?"

####

During the credits between episodes of the retired samurai period drama (most recently, the samurai had been asked to use his sword to help cut flowers for a bouquet), Fiddleford leaned over and whispered to Ford, "So I've been a-lookin' at those blueprints you left me."

"And...?"

"And I've constructicated a power adaptor. Just jimmy out the fuel tank, swap it for the adaptor's cord, and you can power that weapon by pluggin' it into the wall! It'll just drain all the power from the town for a few seconds, that's all."

"Fiddleford, that's amazing—"

"Now, hold on. There's bad news," Fiddleford said. "Try as I might, I can't quite get it to draw enough power to activate those energy-destroying features what you'd need to disintegrate Bill. It'll work like a powerful laser, but nothin' else."

Ford sighed. "It's a starting point, I suppose."

"I'll send you home with the adaptor anyway. Never know when you'll need a big laser."

"Very true. Do you have any promising leads on other alternative fuels?"

Fiddleford shook his head. "It's the NowUSeeitNowUDontium or nothing. But I've got a hunch we could synthesize it under lab conditions. I'll letcha know in a few days."

And then the next episode started, and they dropped the conversation.

####

Ford let out a heavy sigh. "He's only had a partial success so far. But I'm hopeful he's on the right track."

"So, if he's working on this weapon, what are you doing?"

"Waiting, mostly. I don't know what else I can do."

Stan frowned. "What—that's it? You've been downstairs all day every day—if you're not figuring out how to destroy him, what are you doing?"

"Passing time somewhere I can be on call if he gets up to something—but I don't have to look at him," Ford said wryly. "And—as long as I'm waiting to hear back from Fiddleford, I've been... picking apart that list of spells Bill gave me. To see if any of them are tricks or traps."

Stan couldn't say he was surprised. That was his workaholic brother. A pamphlet of demon magic was like catnip to him. If anything, Stan was almost glad Ford had that letter to distract him. Over the past year...

Well, Ford was fine on land—when he temporarily had a mystery to solve, an adventure to pursue, an anomaly to study, a distraction to fill his time—but at sea, when his mind was unoccupied, he was listless. He had books he didn't read, field notes he didn't enter into his journal, games he didn't play. He fed himself and exercised and did chores around the ship like a robot programmed to take care of itself, and he stared out at the sea.

Last summer, Ford hadn't seemed happy but he'd seemed alive. Tired and angry, but alive. But after Weirdmageddon, a light in his eyes went out. Stan didn't know if it was the end of summer, or guilt over the memory gun, or the gap between finishing a thirty-year-long quest and discovering the next one. All Stan knew was the light hadn't come back on until the moment Bill Cipher, clad in a new body and a purple cartoon bedsheet, tried to cave Ford's skull in.

Ever since they were children, Ford had had a tendency to develop obsessions. It was somehow simultaneously both what made him most interesting and what made him boring. Depended on the obsession. But these all-consuming interests had always tended to last a few months, at most a year; and he'd never seemed to be without one, much less for nine months. Stan had no idea what carrying a single obsession for three decades might have done to Ford's mind.

Stan was glad something had woken Ford back up, and he worried that losing that focal point again might leave Ford permanently adrift. But another part of him worried that, this time, Ford wouldn't let the object of his obsession go. He tended to collect things related to his obsessions.

But then, he usually tended to like his obsessions. He hadn't seemed bothered to burn the contents of his creepy Bill shrine last summer. Ford wouldn't do anything stupid, Stan told himself. Ford hated Bill. "So? Were any of the spells traps?"

"Not... so far, no." Ford sounded irritated by this.

Stan shrugged. "Makes sense. He's trying to butter us up. If that idiot thinks being nice to us for a week or two is gonna make up for the years of grief he's given us—"

A loud rattle-clattering below made them both start. Stan sat bolt upright. "What the—?"

Ford inched to the edge of the dormer roof, knelt down, and leaned over the edge just far enough to see the window.

Bill's face was pressed to the glass, eye rolled up toward the roofline. He grinned in surprised delight and shouted through the glass, "HEY, STANFORD! What are you doing up here?! I thought you were downstairs!"

"Ugh." Ford turned to grimace at Stan. "Speak of the devil."

Bill pounded on the glass again. "Hey, Sixer! SIXER! Open the window!"

"Why?"

"I wanna talk!"

"No."

"Come ooon, the kids ditched me and I'm bored! There's no one in the house to talk to! The old lady's asleep and Stanley's on the roof, so—" He abruptly fell silent, squinting with deep suspicion at Ford-who-should-be-in-the-basement kneeling on the-roof-where-Stan-should-be, and said, "Wait. Are you Stanley right now? Show me your hand."

Ford did not. "Go away, Bill." He left the edge of the roof for his cooler seat.

"Get back here!" The pounding redoubled. "I don't care which Stan you are! If you don't wanna talk, I can always go wake up Dolores!"

Ford looked at Stan. "Mrs. Ramirez's name is Dolores?" He had gotten used to everyone calling her Abuelita.

Stan stomped on the roof, "Shaddup!"

Bill did not shaddup. "Come ooon!"

Stan sighed in defeat and heaved himself to his feet. "If he keeps that racket up he's gonna break that window, never mind that hex you put on him." When they'd taken out the original Bill-shaped window, Stan had replaced it with the cheapest window he could find. He didn't think it was very durable. "How much trouble can he get in with one open window twenty feet above the ground and both of us watching him?"

Ford Frowned.

"Don't gimme that look. Do you want to pay for a broken window?" Stan flipped through his keys for his key-shaped emergency lock pick, leaned over the edge of the roof, and wedged the pick into the window frame. The latch popped open. Lucky this window was so cheap, that wouldn't have worked on one with deluxe features like "airtight weatherstripping" or "a properly-fitting frame." Stan swung open the window. "Okay, you have our attention. Now what's the fastest way we can get rid of you?"

Bill clumsily climbed out to sit on the windowsill with his legs in the shack, and leaned back so he could see up onto the roof. "Hiya Fo—" He lost his balance, flailed, and yelped as he toppled backwards.

Stan and Ford lunged forward to seize an arm each. Stan snapped, "What are you doing, you maniac?!"

Bill stared up at them both in wide-eyed amazement. "You do like me."

Stan made a noise of disgust, let go, and wiped his hands on his pants like Bill had cooties.

Ford said, "We like you trapped in that body and not free to cause the apocalypse."

"I heard 'we like you'!"

"Shut up." Ford managed to haul Bill back upright. (Touching Bill felt wrong—all soft flesh and skin and the suggestion of bones underneath. Even when looking right at Bill's human body, Ford still expected him to feel like heavy shadows and heatless flames.) From this close, Bill reeked of cider. "Just how much have you had to drink?"

"Not so much I won't remember whatever you say in the morning, so be nice to me!" Bill laughed. He leaned back, this time hanging by one hand off the window frame to precariously maintain his balance, and grinned up at Ford. "So! The least fun person in the house has finally emerged from his lair? And you didn't even come into the house to join in the Summerween festivities! 'All work and no play'..."

Ford had to crouch at the edge of the roof, hovering nearby in case Bill lost his balance again. "I wanted to participate in Summerween, actually. It just so happens that the last person I'd ever spend a holiday with is in the house."

"Listen, Stanford. I know you're holing up in your study for days on end just to hurt me. But let's be honest, you're hurting yourself more! When's the last time you saw the sunlight! Look at how pale you're getting, you look like a vampire."

Stiffly, Ford said, "It's costume makeup. That's my vampire costume." Stan laughed.

"It what." Bill flipped up his eyepatch and squinted blearily at Ford's face.

Wordlessly, Ford bared his teeth to show off his plastic vampire teeth.

"Oh." Somewhat deflated, Bill said, "Nice work, it's convincing."

"Thanks," Ford said grudgingly. Giving in to his curiosity, he gestured toward Bill's (somewhat disheveled) reddish-yellow wig. "What are you."

"Oh!" Bill perked back up. "You've got to see the whole thing. Hold on—" He turned around in the window, ignoring how Ford half reached for him in case he needed steadying, until he got his legs outside to dangle on the roof. "What do you think!"

Ford looked over the brown toga flared out like a cone, the eruption of red hair, the small paper city below, and said, "Mount Vesuvius and Pompeii? Very clever."

Bill's face lit up. "Finally! You're the first person all day to get it!" He smoothed out the skirt proudly, his jerky gestures just a bit more exaggerated than usual. "Do you know how long I've wanted to go to a costume party as Vesuvius? But nobody off Earth would get it! And now that I'm finally here, I can't go to parties and I'm shaped more like a mandrake than a volcano." He flung up his hands, wobbled, and caught himself before Ford had to intervene. "But at least you got it. I knew I could count on you, IQ."

He sounded so sincerely grateful. Ford regretted calling the costume clever. It was, but Bill didn't need the ego boost.

"Oh! By the by—I didn't think you'd emerge before the day was over, so I saved this." Bill fished around in his toga until he retrieved a mini pack of jelly beans. "Here!"

Ford eyed the pack. "Why is it open?"

"Because you only like the weird-shaped jelly beans, so I ate all the normal beans and saved the weird ones in one bag."

"I don't want this. You touched every one of the beans, that would be disgusting even if they weren't coming from you," Ford said. "Anyway, this is a patently transparent attempt to buy your way into my good favor—"

"It sure is, Ford, and if you don't accept it I'll get to be annoying about your ingratitude for weeks! Is that what you want? You know I'll do it. Everyone will be on my side—"

Ford sighed, but snatched the bag from Bill's hand. "Fine. Now drop it."

"That's more like it!" Bill favored Ford with an approving smile. "Anyway, it's just about the only candy left in the house, I ate everything else—hey, have you ever been cross faded on cider and a sugar rush?"

Ford was still trying to decide whether he wanted to engage in this one-sided conversation enough to ask Bill what "cross faded" meant when Bill moved on without him: "It's—not that interesting, actually. 6 out of 10. Anyway, all that's left in the bowl is mints and wrappers. And Mabel even managed to give most of the mints away—hey, she's so nice, did you know she's helping to resurrect the Summerween Trickster?"

She was doing what? "No. Why?"

"She's so nice."

"You just said that."

"What is she so nice for. What's she getting out of it," Bill asked, more to the universe at large than to Ford. "If more humans were half as nice to freaks as she is, your rotten planet wouldn't need people like you and me to save it."

Ford didn't even know where to begin with that. He looked to Stan for help.

Stan was sitting straddling his lounger, elbow on one knee and chin in his hand, watching this exchange like he was watching a weird bug on the wall try to navigate around a picture frame. At Ford's glance, he rolled his eyes and pantomimed sipping from a drink.

He could say that again. Ford cleared his throat. "Bill, maybe you should..."

"Hey," Bill said. "Great talk, we really should catch up more sometime. And pull your weight next time, I always have to do all the talking. But right now, I'm..." He gestured vaguely off to the side. "I'm gonna lie down and try not to throw up. Ciao!" He swayed as he tried to get back in the window, tumbled backward into the shack, and thudded heavily on the floor. "Ow."

Ford gingerly shut the window.

Stan turned up the boombox. "Chatty drunk, isn't he."

"He's chatty sober, too." But in front of the kids? Neither of them saw Bill as a role model, but they still didn't need to be exposed to that kind of behavior. Especially when the responsible adults were outside or asleep... "Did we really leave Bill alone in the house with the kids?"

"W—I—" Stan shrugged defensively. "They were all right! They can take him! They're doing karate or whatever! You didn't see how Mabel flipped him at the mall! It was like David wrestling Goliath."

"David and Goliath didn't wrestle."

"You know what I mean."

Ford supposed he didn't think Bill was any threat to the children. At least, not right now, and not physically. He felt like he'd know if Bill was about to try anything.

He looked at his open bag of gross felt-up jelly beans. Speaking of trying to butter them up... Ford wound up and chucked the bag as hard as he could.

He stared into the dark after it.

A small part of him was beginning to wonder whether this wasn't all just an attempt to get Ford's guard down. The gifts, sure, that was as clear-cut a case of bribery as you could get. Nothing ambiguous there.

But the endless chatter... Back when Ford had called Bill his Muse, this was exactly how he'd wanted Bill to talk to him. Not in the flighty half-distracted way of a friendly businessman catching up on a work project's progress before hurrying on to the next meeting; but just talking for talking's sake, talking for the company.

Getting what he once had longed for made his skin crawl. And he couldn't even tell if Bill was acting.

The boombox let out a ghastly banshee shriek. Ford and Stan both jumped, then laughed awkwardly.

Ford sat on the cooler again. "Is it just me, or... did Bill completely ignore you as soon as he realized I was up here."

"Well. I wasn't gonna mention it. I didn't wanna sound jealous of the attention. But yeah—he's been doing that since he got here. If you're in the room, he tunes everyone else out."

"I thought it was in my head." And he hadn't wanted to sound like he wanted to imagine Bill was favoring him.

"And you do the same thing around him," Stan said, and laughed at Ford's flinch of alarm. "It's—it's fine, I get it. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right? You've got some kind of superhero-supervillain nemesis thing."

Ford got the distinct impression that Stan was offering him a convenient excuse for the tunnel vision. He took it. "I suppose that's true." The way his jaw clenched and his shoulders tensed around Bill certainly felt like a "nemesis" reaction.

But if Stan thought Ford was a bit too preoccupied by Bill... well, maybe he was right. Once Ford had gotten over his initial wave of fear, of despair, of outrage at the injustice, at finding Bill was still alive—there was a part of him that was almost relieved. A part of him that had been on guard against nothing for the past year, twisting around looking for an absent threat. Now that it knew where the threat was, that part of him could finally settle down and watch Bill with steady, certain eyes. Having nothing to worry about made him more anxious than having one thing to always worry about.

(Maybe Shermie's kid had been on to something when he suggested Ford might benefit from therapy.)

Knowing Bill was back didn't put the old starlight and awe back in that hole Bill had left in Ford's chest. But dread could fill a hole all the same.

Ford tried to push Bill out of his mind and the conversation. "You think I'm like a superhero?"

"You run around fighting monsters with a space laser. What else would you be?"

"Huh." Well. That made his night.

"Just as long as you don't pull that 'hero spares the villain to show how good he is' shtick."

"Never." Ford laughed ruefully. "I think I left 'good' behind a few felonies back." He'd probably left "good" behind the night he accepted the portal blueprints.

"Couple stragglers," Stan said, nodding out into the dark. It took Ford a moment to spot the costumed kids and remember it was Summerween. "I recognize those costumes, I scared them off an hour ago. What are they doing back?"

Ford squinted at them. "Are those toilet paper rolls?"

"Wh—Hey! What are you little runts— Hey!" Stan leaped to his feet, shaking his fist at the kids below. "Get away from my car! Stop that! I'll have you know that's a classic— No, not the eggs!"

Ford slid out his freeze ray, turned down the power, and offered it to Stan. "Here. At this power and distance, it'll feel like getting pelted with invisible snowballs."

Stan snatched up the weapon. "Eat this, twerps!"

The Summerween night air was filled with the screams of terrified children and the evil laughter of an old man.

####

Wow. It sure sounded like everybody was having fun. Outside. Without him.

Bill was nauseous.

He stared at the spinning ceiling, flat on his back, one leg on a cushion and the rest of him on the floor. 

Bill was nauseous and alone. The loneliness tore at his throat. Even Mabel had ditched him. Of course she did—he'd tried to kill her. He'd barely even remembered he'd tried to kill her until she brought it up. Had he tried to kill her? No, surely not—he liked the kid, he'd always liked her—he'd been faking to force Ford's hand, he never would have gone through with it. He would've teleported her into another room and pretended he'd disintegrated her. She didn't know he hadn't meant it. She was just mad he'd scared her. She couldn't take a joke.

But, Ford talked to him. Ford even liked his costume. It wasn't much, but it would get Bill through the night.

When he saw Kryptos again—when, not if—he was slicing him into a jigsaw puzzle for not taking Bill's call. The nerve of that guy, hanging up on a human without even waiting a few words to see if they had anything interesting to say. 

(What if it hadn't been an accident, he wondered? What if Kryptos had realized it was Bill and still hung up?)

(No. Of course it was an accident.)

He shut his eyes. He was probably too drunk to dream tonight. Well, he could try again tomorrow. His little lucid dreaming guide was currently teaching him to influence the next night's dream by focusing on a topic before sleep. Maybe tomorrow he could dream about the Nightmare Realm.

He missed home.

####

(Congratulations to the approximately 50% of respondents who correctly figured out Bill's costume when I posted the art on Halloween, you're officially smarter than everybody in Gravity Falls except Ford. This is one of those chapters with a whole lot going on so if you enjoyed, I'd love to hear your comments!!)

[55sturn]

hi, may i please request a fic abt Chris adopting a little animal? any kind of animal is fine. thank you

✮ WELCOME HOME!

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis: in which chris and his girlfriend, y/n, decided to adopt a cat from a nearby pet

warnings: none aside from swearing! total fluff!

THIRD PERSON POV

chris and y/n had began to feel like their apartment was rather…empty. it was just the two of them for the most part, side from the revolving door of friends and family that were constantly in and out.

but when the sky was dusted with specks of dusk and nightfall, the stars starting peak through, and it was just the two of them cuddled up on the couch, it felt lonely. like something was missing.

so when y/n proposed the idea of getting a pet, chris was ecstatic. and so began the hunt for the perfect pet for the two of them. they wanted one that fit their personalities and dynamic, although they’d be completely content with a senior pet too, making a happy home for the animal to live the rest of its life in.

as the couple walked toward the shelters door, the two of them were sort of nervous but ultimately excited. y/n was cherishing the domesticity of it all. there was something about adopting a pet with the person you love that felt so incredibly warm and comfortable.

“i want an orange cat.” chris giggled, swinging his and y/n’s interlocked hands between their bodies.

“of course you do, i wouldn’t expect you to want any other type of cat or pet. well maybe i’d expect you to want something insane like a baby rhino or a full grown giraffe.” y/n laughed, watching as chris’ eye sparkled with mischief at the idea of having an unusual pet.

“a baby rhino as a pet would be sick as fuck. completely fucked up but sick as fuck as like a guard animal or whatever.” chris joked as they reached the front entrance.

“i would be terrified of it.” she giggled, walking through the door as chris held it open for her, they were happily greeted by an older dog that wandered around the front.

the two sat with him, petting him and kissing his head as chris talked about how much the older dog made him miss trevor who was back home with his parents.

the two walked through the aisles of the shelter, soon approaching the door that led to the kennel area. chris pulled it open, walking through and holding it open for y/n before lacing his fingers through hers.

“do you think a dog would be too high maintenance for us right now?” y/n hummed, her head resting against chris’ biceps as they stood and watched the dogs sit excitedly in their kennels.

“yeah i think so, i think if we were to get a dog, it’d have to be a more chill breed or an older dog that just needs love and attention y’know?”

“yeah.”

they continued their walk-through, interacting with as many of the dogs as they could before turning and following the walkway to the section where the cats were kept. as they meandered through, laughing as some of the cats asked for their attention while others looked at them, cocked their heads before going back to whatever they were doing.

y/n was about to turn back to the dogs, thinking they would get away with an older one, when an orange cat meowed and stuck its paw through the metal gate. crouching down she peered into the kennel, finding the six month old kitten excitedly clawing at the gate.

“chris come here.” y/n giggled, sticking her finger through one of the spaces and watching as the kitten nuzzled her finger.

“oh my god he’s so cute.” chris cooed, copying his girlfriend’s actions and petting the cat. the two played with the kitten through the gate until a worker stumbled across them.

“would you guys like to take him out of his kennel?”

“we were actually wondering if we could adopt him?”

“yeah, of course! i’ll just take him out of the kennel so you can hold him and we’ll bring him up to the front!” the lady smiled, handing the couple the kitten before grabbing his registration card out the holder underneath the kennel.

chris smiled as he watch his girlfriend cradle the kitten as if it were a human baby, laughing as she cooed and whispered at him, petting his head, watching as the kitten began loudly purring as she scratched beneath his chin.

“what do you wanna name him?” chris hummed against the side of her head as he slung his arm over her shoulders, the two of them following lazily behind the worker as she led them toward the front counter.

“torn between gizmo and charlie.”

“gizmo’s kind of cute and charlie is lowkey basic.” chris laughed making y/n roll her eyes as she set gizmo down on the front counter, while the worker grabbed the couple a bed? a set of dishes, a pink collar which made y/n laugh, and a few toys along with a bag of food.

after paying certain fees and for the few supplies that didn’t come free with the adoption, the couple walked out with the newest addition to their family. gizmo sat calmly in y/n’s lap as she looped the breakaway collar around his neck after adjusting it to the proper size. chris smiled as y/n happily fussed over the tiny baby sitting in her lap.

as the two brought their cat up to their apartment, y/n sighed and smiled as she spoke,

“welcome home giz!”

taglist: @im-a-matt-girl @dylsdunbar @soursturniolo @4sturns @sturnsclutter @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @verosivy

© 55STURN 2023 [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

[tiddygame]

Ghoap god type au part 6!

Ao3 /// part 1 /// part 2 /// part 3 /// part 4 /// part 5 /// part 6 /// part 7

hello once again beautiful people! like i said, new chapter much sooner. the next one might be a bit more of a wait as it's not even fully drafted yet, but fuck it we ball :)

there will be 11 chapters on here [10 on ao3 as 1 and 2 are combined over there] so we're just at the halfway mark! I think this chapter might be my favorite so far, i hope you enjoy it as well!

@imjustheretofightforlove / @pieckyghost / @life-as-a-gamergirl

[and lmk if you want to be tagged!]

“Any more injured soldiers who need rescuing?” Ghost asked, not looking up from sharpening his hunting knife.

“None that you could help,” Soap answered, ignoring the sarcasm in Ghost’s tone and joining him by the fire. He was somehow completely dry despite having walked in from the downpour outside.

The little overhang he had set up his camp under didn’t offer much protection from the rain. It looked like mother nature decided to give up on making a cave as soon as she began, but it was enough cover that his meek fire and (incredibly ungrateful) horse would have at least some protection from the encroaching storm.

Ghost didn’t respond, instead choosing to focus on keeping the correct angle as he dragged the blade along the whetstone, the grating noise muffled by the rain. Taxes snorted her own greeting but still sounded rather upset that Ghost had the audacity to put her in a situation where she got her coat a little wet.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Soap pet Taxes and run his fingers through her mane, walk around his hastily put together camp, look out at the rain, and eventually meander back to sit across from Ghost. Soap’s leg was bouncing; he obviously wanted to talk about something that had him antsy, but Ghost was perfectly fine to let him stew in his anxiety.

Soap managed to sit still for one whole minute before he tried to start a conversation. “You’ve been doing that for a while…?” he prompted, hoping Ghost would want to talk about his current task.

“Yeah,” he answered, still not looking at the god nor for conversation. The edge of his knife had rolled a few days ago and it was not a quick task to grind it back and resharpen it. Lightning crackled and Ghost counted the time between the boom of thunder; As viscous as the rain was, the storm was still a ways away.

Soap nodded slowly and began tapping his fingers on his leg, turning from him to look around at the rain, almost intentionally awkward. “So…” Soap drew out the word, apparently finding a new topic to try, “What are you doing camping in this weather?”

Ghost wasn’t in the mood for whatever the god was trying to pull and grunted dismissively, “Could ask you something similar.”

“Aye, but I asked first,” Soap childishly retorted.

He paused his sharpening and scowled at the god but eventually acquiesced. “Hunting.”

There was a moment of silence, Soap expecting (and hoping) for more information, but Ghost stopped there. He let the silence linger before continuing his sharpening, cutting through the quiet and giving a clear indication that he was done with his answer.

“Well, what were you hunting for?” The god asked, still trying to have a conversation. His effort was admirable, though likely ill-fated.

“Food.”

Soap bit his cheek and tried for the fifth time to prompt him into a chat, “Yes, what kind of food?”

“Edible.”

Soap groaned loudly in frustration, his accent heavier in his annoyance, “Yer a pain in the fucking arse, Ghost.”

“Thank you.”

His gratitude didn’t help and Soap huffed and crossed his arms as he glared at Ghost. 

Soap, the god of death, was pouting. Ghost determinedly stared down at his task, trying not to laugh at the display. 

Gathering himself, he figured it was about time he got his weekly kindness out of the way and answered, “Stocks were running low — I offered to go hunting and the general agreed, but the rain caught me off guard.” 

Soap was disproportionately happy at the fact that Ghost was humoring him, excited that Ghost offered more than a one word answer.

Then again, he was the only one the god could talk to, so maybe it wasn’t disproportionate for someone who’d— No, no. He was not going to be tricked into feeling bad for a fucking god of all things. Even if he did feel oddly compelled to talk to the god after seeing how happy he got at his simple reply.

“Did the general actually agree or…?” Soap asked, knowing Ghost’s tendencies.

“He did. And no, I don’t know why either.” Considering his last “hunting trip” ended in a he-said, she-said shouting match he was just as surprised that the general agreed, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Are you sure it’s not a trap?”

“No.”

His simple answer got a small chuckle, though one tainted by worry. He didn’t care if it was a trap, he got the go ahead to be away from camp for four whole days without a search party going after him. There were very few punishments that could make him regret agreeing to that.

Soap sat in thought before he asked, “You really don’t like him do you?”

Ghost scoffed, “The general? Fuck no. I hate that bastard.”

He could see the question Soap almost asked before he changed his mind and switched to a less intrusive question. “You always call him general—”

Ghost grunted in affirmation, inspecting the freshly sharpened edge on his knife. Still unhappy with it, he added a bit more water to his whetstone and got back to sharpening.

“—Why?”

Ghost was confused for a moment before he remembered that he was talking to Soap and not just obsessing over getting his knife to his impossible standards.

“He never cared to learn my name so I never cared to learn his.” It was unfortunately not a joke. He thinks he might have known it at one point, but his passive aggressive response had gone on for so long that he genuinely did not know his name.

Soap asked, “He doesn’t call you Ghost? What does he call you?” 

“He does call me Ghost,” he corrected with a confused glance.

Soap tilted his head like a confused puppy. “Is… that not your name?”

“No?” Ghost more asked than said, confused. “What the hell kind of a name is Ghost?”

Soap began, “Well I dunno—”

Ghost huffed a small, quiet laugh and when he saw the god looked embarrassed he clarified, “It’s just a nickname.”

“So this entire time I’ve been calling you Ghost…” Soap looked more than embarrassed, horrified at the idea that he had been calling Ghost by the wrong name. 

Ghost tried not to chuckle but the abject horror from the other over such a simple thing made him snicker. When the god’s face fell further, he did not feel bad for him, but he did decide to throw him a little bit more kindness and clarified further, “I’m being petty towards the general. You didn’t get my name wrong.”

Soap heaved a sigh of relief but still looked put off by the revelation. It was hard to hold onto his fear of the god when he always seemed so… so earnest. For fuck’s sake, it looked like he was going through the worst day of his immortal life over a possible nickname mishap.

“And no,” Ghost added before he could ask, “I’m not telling you my name.”

Soap slumped, even more put out and Ghost certainly did not smile at his apparent disappointment.

He continued his sharpening in silence, or, well, neither of them were talking at least. The rain was still hammering away with occasional lightning and thunder. The wind was harsh, pushing in and making sheets of rain look like curtains billowing in the breeze.

Ghost examined the knife again and was much more pleased this go around. He stood slowly, his joints popping along the way, and held the knife under the rainfall, rinsing it off. He rolled up his sleeve and tested the sharpness by shaving some hair off of his arm, satisfied to find it was able to cut through with ease.

He carefully wiped off the knife and found his holster, safely storing it away. He dropped it by where he had been sitting and grabbed his dagger from his satchel,  inspecting the edge on it as well. It wasn’t as bad, but he might as well sharpen it while he has the time.

He turned to go back to the fire but stopped when he saw Soap had scooted over, examining the hunting knife Ghost dropped. It was a basic knife, the only interesting thing about it was the shitty construction of the handle that led to the wood below the last pin chipping off on one side. It seemed to have Soap enraptured nonetheless.

Deciding not to bother with asking, Ghost took his place by the fire once more, making sure to give Soap space, lest he suddenly get any grand ideas with that knife. He rewet the stone and got back to work, keeping the god in sight.

When Soap was done with his inspection, he turned to watching Ghost work, surprisingly content with watching the simple task in silence. Which meant it was time for Ghost to return the favor of disrupting the peace.

“You never said why you decided to grace me with your presence,” he pointed out, sarcasm dripping from the regal phrasing with the raspy noise of the dagger dragging across the stone punctuating his sentence. The god had leaned closer in his curiosity, watching the slow process like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.

“Hmm?” Soap asked, looking up from where he had hunched, not paying attention but processing the question before Ghost had to repeat it. “Oh, right… I just felt lonely.”

He would have believed it if the god weren’t refusing to even look in his general direction. That was the other thing that made it hard to cling to his fear — the bastard was an awful liar.

Ghost paused his handiwork and stared him down, admonishing, “Soap.” He didn’t add anything else, he didn’t need to. Soap squirmed a bit but cracked quickly.

“You didn’t leave an offering this morning,” the god mumbled, looking down at the ground. 

Ghost had to think for a moment, only then realizing that he forwent breakfast that morning to get away from camp as quickly as he could, meaning he also forwent leaving an offering when he ate “with” the god as he normally would have done. 

Soap didn’t look angry, but if he came down from the heavens expressly because of a missed offering, then maybe Ghost had misjudged him. Maybe Soap was actually a fantastic liar and just carefully crafted these supposed slip-ups to make Ghost lower his guard. Maybe Soap was—

“I was worried,” Soap said, still refusing to look at him. If part of his preplanned ruse was to look like a kicked puppy, then he nailed it.

Staring him down, Ghost dropped his tools and blindly reached for his bag, searching for one of the apples he brought for Taxes. As soon as his hand wrapped around it, he threw it to the god with a little too much force for how small the distance between them was.

Soap was unprepared and caught it against his chest. Once he realized what it was, he, if anything, looked sadder. Ghost was unsure if Soap was disappointed in the meager offering or disappointed that he lost the potential leverage over him.

Thunder bellowed. 

“This… is not what I meant,” Soap sighed, “I thought you had given up on food offerings.”

Ghost shrugged, “You’re not getting my knife or my whetstone.” He punctuated the sentence by dragging the knife across the whetstone slightly faster, making the noise just a bit more audible under the pounding rain.

“That’s not what I meant either.”

“Sucks for you,” Ghost retorted like a petulant child, inspecting the edge. The dagger wasn’t perfect, but it was better than it had been and his hands were starting to cramp, so good enough. “I don’t have anything to offer.” 

Ghost let the white lie roll off his tongue with ease. He wanted to see how the god would react to such a blatantly false statement. Everyone always had something that could be taken if it was not given. “Take it or leave it.”

“Leave it,” Soap said, throwing it back with notably less force than Ghost had. He caught it and stared at the god, unimpressed, before dropping it to the floor uncaringly.

Soap stated with conviction, “I didn’t come down here to collect my dues, you don’t owe me anything.” Then he added on as if he were reluctant to admit, “I was worried about you.”

“Why?” Ghost asked simply, busying his nervous hands with cleaning off the dagger.

“You’ve given me offerings every morning. I was worried you got hurt and I didn’t notice or something even worse,” the god replied, managing to dodge answering the one and only question Ghost asked. “I think you’ve spoiled me,” Soap said with an almost sad grin, “One morning without an offering and I’m a mess.”

Ghost did not match the smile as he asked more pointedly, “Why were you worried?”

Soap was lost on how to answer, “Because I… didn’t know if something was wrong? I’m— I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”

“Why did you—,” Ghost huffed, giving up on pursuing an answer as soon as he began. “Forget it. You’ll get your offering in the morning.” He stood, taking the apple over to Taxes, who was thrilled at the development and ate the rejected offering happily.

He didn’t know what answers he wanted nor which questions to ask to get them. But he did know very well that when ignorance and vulnerability reared its ugly, stupid, unwelcome head, impudence made for a fine replacement.

“I’m sorry? Have I done something to upset you?”

It was said with an air of sincerity; It was far too kind of a reply for the brashness he had undeservedly received. 

Ghost needed to be suspicious of Soap, he needed to keep his guard up and always be on the watch for whatever tricks he would try to play. He reminded himself of that fact every time he left an offering or entertained a chat with him but it had yet to stick. 

Soap was making it very difficult for him.

“I’m sorry if I said something wrong—”

For the first time in his life he was unable to cling on to the mistrust and suspicion that had kept him alive thus far. Anger took up where they failed.

There was a voice in the back of his head that sounded an awful lot like someone he used to know, telling him that directing his anger towards those who didn’t deserve it wouldn’t help anyone. But that someone was dead and had been for a long time.

“I… I know you don’t trust me, but I—”

Something snapped. He seethed at himself for the truth behind his own words as he admitted with too much anger, “No, my problem is that I do trust you and I don’t fucking know why!”

“...I’m sorry?”

“Just shut up.”

And the worst part yet? He did. The god of death abided by his request.

Soap was surprised at the outburst, shock and… and not fear because he’s a god, the god of death, he has no need for survival instincts and time wasters like fear. Yet he held his hands up in surrender like Ghost could hurt him anyway.

Ghost was significantly more human and all of the emotions he had felt bubbling up ever since he first left that apple at the feet of a forgotten shrine were finally spilling over, making the fire within his brain crackle and pop at the unwanted intrusion.

“Why?” Ghost demanded, marching forward slowly as he grabbed his newly sharpened dagger. “Why, why, why do I want to trust you!?”

The god didn’t say anything, just kept his hands up while making a vague shrugging motion. Soap stood carefully like he was being cornered by a wild animal and took a few small, slow steps back. 

“Why have you decided to fuck up my life!?”

Soap stayed silent, somehow looking even sadder at his harsh statement. Soap shouldn’t be calm, he should be angry. And yet, he did not fight back. The storm carried on. Ghost was advancing faster than Soap was retreating.

“I cannot kill you, I cannot hurt you, so why do you fall back!?” 

Ghost held the length of his dagger up to the god’s throat, threatening to break the skin and reveal whatever was underneath his guise. Soap froze, standing stiff and looking up at Ghost with eyes full of emotions he couldn’t even begin to decipher.

His anger had pushed them both to the edge of the overhang; Soap was fully in the rain yet still dry while Ghost had some cover but was getting soaked. It only made his tempestuous emotions worse, the painfully obvious display of the divine differences between them.

“Why do you act like you’re scared!?”

Even with him raising his voice, Ghost could barely be heard over the rain. Soap looked at him with something that wasn’t patronizing enough to be pity but he didn’t want to risk trying to put another word to whatever it was.

Soap confessed, “I’m scared for you.”

The anger was failing now as well and he could feel that old snake vulnerability slithering up his spine. “Bullshit.”

“Is it?” Soap asked, with concern, tenderness, sympathy— every emotion he needn’t feel for himself written plain across his face.

“Don’t you dare condescend to me. I may just be a stupid, puny mortal in the eyes of ‘Death almighty—’”

“You’re not—”

Ghost pressed the blade closer. On anyone else, any human, blood would have been welling up. 

“—But I know a hungry animal when I see one. If I die, you die too, isn’t that right?” Ghost asked, an air of enlightenment in his voice, like he could pretend hard enough that he found the answer he’d been seeking. He felt no such relief or realization.

He laughed humorlessly, “Gods, you’re like a bloody vampire aren’t you? Poor little thing has to keep a mortal alive to get offerings from!”

He felt like he could barely breathe; He wasn’t sure he could lie to himself that it was just anger making him tremble anymore. Soap remained silent. Ghost needed him to say something, anything, he didn’t care what. He could feel the last strings holding him up snap as they sat in silence.

They had yet to break eye contact, Ghost continuing to stare down at him. Soap carefully reached up, wrapped his hand around Ghost’s, and slowly moved the knife away. He didn’t even take the opportunity to disarm him, just played along like Ghost was capable of defending himself against the god of death.

Soap grabbed his arm with his other hand, gently pushing Ghost out of the storm’s wrath like he was something delicate.

Yeah, no shit dumbass. You pulled a knife on him for being nice. Of course he’s treating you like a ticking time bomb.

“Come on,” Soap muttered with that stupid fucking look of not-pity. “You’re gonna get cold.”

Ghost’s brain misfired.

He’s gonna get cold. Says the god. The god of death. Whom he just antagonized. And threatened to stab. In the neck. With a knife. 

You’re gonna get cold.

What the fuck is happening?

Ghost doesn’t know if he said that out loud or if he’s just that easy to read, but Soap, the god of death, answered the unasked question, “If you want to slit my throat, that’s fine, but do it by the fire where it’s warm.”

Unable to vocalize his thoughts in any articulate way, Ghost asked in a voice that was as accusatory as it was stupefied, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Soap laughed too kindly for the statement that caused the reaction, “A lot, probably.”

He could do nothing but watch, puzzled, as the god sat him on the ground next to the fire, adding on another log before joining him. Ghost hadn’t even processed that he was cold when Soap draped something over his shoulders, a cloak— his cloak, and scooted just a little closer.

“Can’t have ye’ getting sick, right?” Soap asked with a smile that might have been charming if Ghost didn’t feel like his brain was actively imploding.

“You… are not attacking me,” Ghost pointed out. He couldn’t tell if he was thinking too fast or not at all. Either way he was lost.

“No, I am not,” Soap confirmed, “And I do not plan to.”

Ghost was exhausted. He felt tired and sad, he wanted to pass out, he wanted to slam his head against the rocks, he wanted to make sense of reality again. None of which seemed to be within his wheelhouse.

“I’m sorry I cannae give ye’ the fight you want.”

His last string snapped, and he slumped in on himself, his head hanging low. Perhaps the others at camp were right. Maybe he was the bloodthirsty monster they feared.

They had both been accused of the same, but where Soap actively defied humanity’s accusations, Ghost only ever seemed to validate them. Here was someone, not human but a person all the same, who was trying to show him kindness and he attacked them for it. Ghost tried his best not to be their beast, but maybe his best wasn’t enough. Maybe violence was the only thing he was capable of.

The monster who refused their labeling smacked him in the back of the head. Soap said not unkindly yet still firmly, “Whatever it is you’re thinking, quit it.”

Ghost slowly turned with a scowl that lacked the anger he was clawing at, upset at having his brooding interrupted, and demanded, “Why?”

“Because,” Soap huffed, “I can’t even read minds but I can hear you sulking from here.”

‘From here’ was right next to him, but Ghost wasn’t in the mood to argue pedantics. Mostly. Somewhat. Kind of.

“I’m brooding, not sulking,” Ghost corrected. He was always in the mood to be a pain in the ass.

Ghost shivered slightly, his now wet clothes chilling him through the cloak. Soap put his arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer. It was only then that Ghost realized they’d been sitting that close ever since Soap dragged him over, close enough to be well within arm’s reach. 

While the god had plenty of warmth to share, his body heat didn’t. The air always seemed a little bit warmer when Soap was around, the biting cold fading to a comfortable level, but he still was not a living being. Beneath his skin might have been flesh and perhaps a bone or two somewhere in there, but he had no heartbeat, there was nothing within him to provide physical warmth the same way a human would have.

Ghost wondered if it was part of an ages old reflex, pulling someone closer to keep them warm.

“Yer not a damn bird…” Soap corrected back, absentmindedly running his hand up and down Ghost’s arm, assumedly another reflex from a time long since passed. 

Ghost didn’t mind; A prideful bastard he may be, but he had never experienced a true cold a day in his life. He knew good and well he should be thankful for the warmth, and considering he was almost soaked to the bone while it was cold as balls, Ghost would let his pride take the hit so long as it kept him hypothermia free.

“You do have a lot wrong with you, don’t you?” Ghost asked as if it wasn’t obvious from the start.

“I already told you tha’ much.” Soap said with that smile that you can only get after an emotional breakthrough, the kind that was genuine yet sad yet hopeful yet tired, all in one small smile.

Thunder roared loud enough that Ghost could feel the reverberations through the ground he was sitting on. Looking outside, the woodland was obscured by a haze of white, rain falling with such speed and vigor that it hid everything beyond their shelter. He watched the way the sky darkened even though it couldn’t have been noon; it would appear that the storm finally arrived.

Wind tried to blow the rain closer and closer but errant raindrops that should have been pelting him and threatening his fire never seemed to land and he knew he had the god to thank for that. 

Ghost had to take a moment to appreciate that the god of death, a being capable of unimaginable power that presided over the most prevalent part of life, had been demoted to an umbrella and space heater.

“I think you could kill me if you wanted.”

Soap’s sudden statement pulled him back, turning from the deluge outside to look at the god in confusion, slowly processing his words. Ghost scoffed, genuine in his demand but without the malice that would have been there a few minutes prior, “Don’t pity me.”

“I’m not!” Soap defended as if he were stating the obvious, “We both know damn well that if I fucked up and pissed you off, you wouldn’t stop until I was dead.” 

A grim statement made in a jovial tone with the manner of someone convinced they were infallibly correct. He acted as if he were offended by the notion that Ghost couldn’t kill him.

“A mortal going against a god is not a battle, it’s a slaughter,” he corrected. It was something he’d been told over and over when he was younger, back when he was still naive enough to have faith (albeit with rather different wording).

Almost every bedtime story he’d grown up with had the same lesson: Do not go against the gods. Story after story and tale after tale about supposedly greedy men that tried to take on the pantheon only to be sentenced to eternal suffering as punishment. Back then, it was worded in a little cutesy, kid friendly way but the lesson stuck. Ghost wasn’t that stupid… mostly… Regardless, he knew his limits, and killing an immortal being was certainly not within them.

“Yes, but for you, it wouldn’t be the mortal getting slaughtered,” Soap argued the point like they were debating over which color was the best, not Ghost’s ability to kill death.

Ghost scoffed, “Sure.” He had no idea what the god was getting at but he knew he wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise.

“You know it's true, you just don’t want to accept the compliment!” Soap argued, annoyed at the dismissal.

“Is someone telling you that you could kill them a compliment?” Ghost asked, more curious for Soap’s answer than anything else.

“How would it not?”

Yeah, Ghost doesn’t know what else he expected from the god of death, to be honest. He settled back, pulling his cloak closer to himself, slowly drying off, and warm in spite of the freezing thunderstorm mere feet away. 

He still had hundreds of questions and half formed worries plaguing him, but well, as he said, he felt exhausted. Not physically, sleep was a long way off but he still felt like he could collapse.

Ghost tried to think but as soon as he grabbed at any thoughts, they slipped away into the mist. It was only after several minutes of silently watching the leaves shake in the storm that one question solidified into something more tangible. He didn’t know how to phrase it, but eventually gave up on finding the right words and hoped to stumble into them along the way.

“Shouldn’t I be…” Ghost regretted his plan immediately but it was too late to go back. “…Spreading the word? Singing your praises? Getting people to ‘worship’ you?” He felt weird even as he said it but he tried to keep the disdain out of his voice.

“No.” Soap’s reply was sudden and resolute, like he wanted to shut down the notion immediately. “No, please don’t.”

“No?”

“No,” he confirmed. “I… know that if I want to— to stay around then yes, but… No. Not yet. I don’t want to repeat what happened before.” 

The god had a sullen, far away look in his eyes, one Ghost had seen on several soldiers and fighters before and likely one that he himself has worn as well. It was the most Soap had ever talked about his time from before.

Ghost didn’t like the way Soap had said it and he liked the spike of sympathy even less, but he had a feeling he would have to get used to emotions he didn’t like so long as he continued following the god.

The words hang over them like a lead weight. Usually, Ghost didn’t mind letting awkwardness linger, enjoying the squirming of others but this felt different. It wasn’t someone trying to push Ghost beyond his limits, but instead more like the other way around, Ghost uncaringly pushing against a sore subject for the god.

For the god. You shouldn’t feel bad for him, he’s— 

Oh, shut up.

He’s well past the point of no return. Feeling bad for Soap was the least of his worries now, whether he liked it or not. Besides, if not pity, why else would he have continued offering Soap whatever he could get his hands on? 

It’s not like he’s on the precipice of doing something stupid, he already did the ‘something stupid.’ Ghost saw the edge of the cliff and the warning signs around it and still hiked on.

Ignoring everything in him yelling at him not to, he leaned into the god’s side. The words felt alien even to himself as he muttered, “Maybe someday.”

Soap smiled, and the edge of the cliff came closer as Soap muttered back, “Maybe.”

[ihatebrainstorm]

What are ur thoughts on IDW Prowl?

Just a lil curious :3

ohhohhhhehhehahhehahh...

Alright, first off: I'm horrid at explaining my thoughts cohesively in words, so this is gonna have a lot of me scribbling, yelling, and virtually shaking you back and forth, but just bare with me here as I commit crimes against linguistics...

HE'S SUCH A PRICK. A GENUINE PRICK, SUCH A FRIKIN THORN UP THE ASS I HATE LOVE HIM SO DAMN MUCH. Smug asshole probably was cited in the definition of the word "jerk", he's just sooo,,,, HHHHGRGG- Exactly the type of character where you love him, but you still cheer when karma comes around the corner and serves him 5 star yelped review can of "whoopass to the face" y'know???? Sometimes he deserves it, sometimes he doesn't, but either way you feel god awful when he shows vulnerability or starts feeling regret.. To a point where it almost feels that subconsciously, I'd rather he be a one dimensional villain type character just to avoid him being hurt? If that makes sense?

He's somehow such an asshole, but such an endearing one at the same time?? His dialogue delivery is so comedic in a way where it seems like he's severely lacking self awareness, but because of who he is you can't tell if he's doing that on purpose to get a rise out of someone gaghhh- The king, the master, and seasoned veteran of "Holy Crap You Should Not Have Said That To Their Face"

But he's also so sad?? The way you watch as former close associates lose trust in him as the story progresses, his realization of said fact, the trauma he sustains from having his mind be exposed/controlled multiple times over, watching as even Optimus turns his back on him, that whole Tarantulas fiasco, etc. etc. It really hurts watching his slow, meandering descent into isolation

He makes me want to aggressively throw him on a couch using a trebuchet before layering him in cozy blankets, the number of which would rival the princess and the pea's mattress count- I just,,, desperately want him to catch a break and relax a bit,,,,,

but also it'd be really funny if someone bolted his table into the floor. I'm just saying......

(Hopefully that was cohesive enough? I dunno maybe my memory is a bit warped and my perception of him is all wonky? It's been a hot minute since I've read the earlier IDW comics skdfks- Either way, agree or disagree, these be my thoughts on him.. minus all the cut out aggressive screaming and table pounding)

[annoyingblondebracket]

Round 1 | Poll 14

~ Note: This poll is being done out of a genuine love and affection for these types of characters! Please keep that in mind when adding commentary.

Propaganda under the cut!

Reigen:

~ Surprisingly, Reigen doesn't have any propaganda i feel I can fit here 😭

Roald:

~ The main character used to be friends with him, but they fought before university and since they returned Roald has been "like silver-plated tin when you wished for, expected, *needed* silver", wandering around flirting with dairymaids "almost as big and blond as he was", stealing the main character's pen, and just generally making a nuisance of himself in every way that occurs to him

~ Roald is, in the narration of the main character Jemis, described as dark blond of hair (along with choice adjectives like strong, broad, and muscular), he is loud and friendly (very rude, Jemis is busy thinking everyone hates him), he flirts with the milkmaids and dresses in outrageously loud old-fashioned style (neither of which makes Jemis jealous nor envious, obviously), he catches Jemis falling off a ladder and then blows right through his careful attempts at distance by calling him by last name and ‘sir’, his thighs are SO muscular (Jemis will never achieve that kind of stature and it vexes him), Roald appears to not hold a grudge against Jemis for that big fight they had before parting ways for university, and now he goes about town drinking and gambling and all around pretending to be an air-head which Jemis KNOWS isn’t the case so WHAT GIVES, they’re childhood friends, why is he pretending to be both unintelligent and careless, and Roald CLEARLY has secrets but he won’t tell Jemis about them (so rude), instead he goes about not answering direct questions and making meandering conversation with Jemis in public (VEXING), pretending to be uninterested in the local mysteries despite always appearing front and centre, casually eating the eyes out of the mysterious fish pie Jemis found in the town square, STEALING his BEST PEN, getting inexplicably snappy when Jemis’ university roommate comes to visit, and going around calling Jemis a “good boy” out loud on several occasions. No one has ever suffered anyone’s company, as well as the inexplicably terrible lack of same person’s company, like Jemis has. Truly what is Roald making of his life. Not even referring to him by a silly nickname can calm Jemis’ annoyed (and nothing else) heart.

~ According to our EXTREMELY reliable narrator, Jemis Greenwing, Roald Ragnor is very simply the most annoying man in town. He’s a good-natured idiot jock, but he and Jemis used to be friends and Jemis knows he could be so much more than that if he just tried. Like, at all. But does he try? No. Instead, he spends all his time gambling (annoying) and drinking (annoying) and bothering Jemis Specifically (annoying) and bothering people who aren’t Jemis (annoying) and flirting with the local girls (annoying) and talking about hunting (annoying) and – well. You get the idea. He comes across as an airheaded twit of a noble, except for the part where he keeps showing up in places he isn’t supposed to be and being blatantly cagey about what he’s doing there. Both of these aspects are, independently, annoying. He’s also obnoxiously large and obnoxiously loud and obnoxiously blond and has obnoxiously muscular thighs. I swear to god I am not exaggerating this. Did I mention Jemis thinks he’s obnoxious?

~

[peyton-warren]

Sam is Angry

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester and Reader Pairings: Dean Wincester x reader, Sam Winchester x reader Word count: 2487 Type: smut, smut and more smut. Vaguest hint of plot. Warning: 18+. Minors DNI. p in v sex, oral, breast worship, creampies, threesome. No Wincest. Summary: Sam comes across you and Dean defiling his research for a case. He is not happy. Author's Note: Another tale I have revived from my AO3 and brought over to tumbler. Thank you to @adulting-sucks for the beta. And really is there a better gif for this than the one I used? Ask Box: Open Masterlist

“Really???” Sam sounds beyond annoyed.  You couldn't help yourself from grinning against the polished surface of the library table Dean had you pinned to.  

“Lighten up, Sammy,” he offers as he shoves your hips against the table's edge, his hand holding the back of your neck flush to the table so you couldn't even look at his little brother.

“That research has taken months to compile!” Sam argues.  “And you two could not find any other spot to do that?”

You raise one hand, twisting it apologetically through the air. “I was just sitting here minding my own business, reading that,” you point to the 16th century vellum book open on the table amongst the smattering of papers, notebooks, photographs, and printouts.  “This,” your hand gestures to Dean and yourself, “was his idea,” you insist as you pant against the table top.  

“Yeah it looks like he completely had to twist your arm there.”  You hear Sam walk into the Men of Letters research room, a slow shuffle of his feet. You notice his movements didn't seem to even phase Dean who kept up the same rhythm he had before Sam’s appearance. Your pussy constricts involuntarily around Dean’s cock as Sam’s hand appears on the back of the chair across from you.  You watch as he slowly lowers himself into the seat, his eyes dilated and focused only on you.  His tongue darts out to wet his lips, before he flicks his gaze up to Dean.  They seem to share one of those silent brotherly chats that normally annoy the crap out of you but Sam’s eyes are back on you before you can get even a tiny bit upset at their absence.   

He leans forward, folding his hands and laying his arms parallel to the table edge.  He is slow, methodical in his movements, making you wonder what is going on in that pretty little head of his.  

Dean’s angle changes behind you, and you see stars form in your eyes as you clench your legs tighter together, the apologetic hand flying to grip his hip.   “Mother of God,” you hear him mumble, his thrusts faltering for a moment.  He moves his hand from your neck to the middle of your back.  

“And here I thought you were just a quiet little bookworm,” Sam starts, his voice self assured as he hooks a finger under your chin, making you look at him.  That tongue of his appears again, drawing your attention back to his lips, your body tightening around Dean’s cock in response, making you both moan.  

Sam’s finger meanders up your chin and gently traces your lips, his eyes following the digit.  For a brief second you wish it was his tongue and in a flash you were at the point of no return.  Gripping the edge of the table with one hand, the other grasping at the perfectly polished surface below you, your body hurdles over the precipice of joy and you tremble below Dean.   You hear him growl, his thrusts turning deeper, sawing into you as you ride the wave of pleasure. 

As you pant out your release, you hear Sam chuckle darkly, his hand moving over your cheek, a finger anchoring under your jaw bone to keep your head up.  When you can finally open your eyes, you find him leaned back in his chair, smirk firmly in place.  

“Dirty girl,” he says smugly, his hand sliding down your neck, making your eyes fall close as you lean into his touch.  “Ah-ah, eyes open, Y/N,” he insists, his hand pausing. 

Ripping your eyes open, you find his dark eyes closer now as his fingertips dipped under the collar of your shirt.  “Dean was so eager to get in your pants, he didn't even bother ridding you of your shirt." Sam clicks his tongue.  You weren't going to argue with him, but the truth is you had been teasing his older brother for the better part of the day.  Between suggestive texts, glimpses of you coming out of the shower room in a towel no bigger than a postage stamp, and leaving your door open as you dressed, you knew you were damn lucky Dean hadn't torn the clothes he did take off your body.  

 Sam pulls your shirt off, leaving you in just your bra and the panties Dean had shoved to the side to get inside you  “That’s better,” he smiles at you, as he scoots his chair closer to the table, his hand ghosting over your shoulder, making you tremble at the soft touch in stark contrast to the bruises Dean was putting across your hips bones.  

Raising on your elbows, you look up at Sam’s face, watching his eyes follow the trail of his fingers over your skin.  Reaching out one hand, you pluck at the buttons on the front of his shirt with your fingers, some sliding open, others not.  It's hard to make your fingers work properly when Dean begins to erratically fuck you across the table.  Crossing your ankles, you arch your ass in the air.  Sam’s eyes fall back on you as Dean hisses his appreciation.  Tangling your hand in the front of his shirt, you drag him closer, pressing your lips to his as Dean’s hips stutter behind you, his fingers digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises.  Sam’s tongue is in your mouth before you can blink and your own tongue joins the age old dance as his hands settle on either side of your face, holding you in place as he plunders your mouth.  Dean slumps forward, settling his forehead between your shoulder blades as he catches his breath.  You don't seem to even notice as he presses a kiss to your skin before standing upright.  You do notice when he withdraws from you, making you hiss at the sudden loss of him inside you.  

Sam’s hand comes up to brush hair back from your face as he leans back and watches your face.  Opening your own eyes, you find yourself flushing at his attention.  Biting your lip you try to pull him closer as Dean’s hand ghosts over your ass.  Your lips touch as Dean’s palm lands heavier on your ass, making you yelp into Sam’s mouth.  

“Dirty girl, indeed,” you hear the gravely response behind you.  

Reluctantly you pull away from Sam’s mouth to look over your shoulder.  “Don't you have something else to do?” 

Dean stares hard at you, an almost sinister smile finding its way across his face as his hand tightens on your ass.  “I think I ought to stick around,” he insists as his fingers slide through your wetness, teasing you.  

“Suit yourself,” you mumble before grabbing a handful of Sam’s shirt and dragging  his mouth back to yours.  His hand finds its way into your hair, tightening around the stands, dragging you with him.  He looms over you and the table, almost bending you backwards, making you rise on your toes to reach his mouth as Dean anchors your hips to the table’s edge.  Looking for some way to climb, your foot finds a chair only to have it skitter backwards into a bookshelf when you try to put your weight on it.  

“Eager much?” Dean asks as you feel Sam’s hands hook under your arms, and drag your body across the table.  You hear papers flutter and notebooks hit the floor.  “What about your precious research?” you tease as Sam deposits you on your back on the table.  

Smirking at you, he pulls your bra from your body as you see Dean move around the table, his hand combing through your hair.  “Most of its on the floor now,” he mumbles against your neck.  Arching your head back, you curl your legs so your knees pressed to Sam’s hips, drawing his fully clothed form between your legs.  You moan softly at the feel of his shirt against your hardened nipples, buttons glancing off your sensitive peaks.  

Dragging his teeth over your skin, Sam moves down over your shoulders, leaving small little bites that make you hiss with each pinch.  

You feel a hand still gliding through your hair, fingers gently caressing your ear, making you turn to look over at Dean.  Leaving one hand in Sam’s hair, your other lands palm up on the table, close to Dean’s hip.  He smiles as he twines his fingers with yours, drawing the back of your hand slowly up his chest to his mouth.  Mind numbingly slow, he lays soft kisses to each finger tip, making your head spin faster.  Your eyes fall closed as Sam’s hot mouth finds your nipple, his rough tongue swirling around it.  

“Oh fuck,” you curse as your back arches.  

“You can almost get her to cum that way,” Dean encourages his brother.  

Sam hums against your sensitive skin, making your legs flex and contract around him as his teeth score your skin.  “Sam,” you mutter.  

You feel Dean drawing one of your fingers into your mouth, and your body spins out of control.  Grabbing Sam’s wrist, you guide his calloused gun hand up to brush against the other nipple.  Pinching it between his thumb and finger, the hot liquid feeling in your belly spreads suddenly through your body, making you cry out loud at the overwhelming sensations of their mouths on your skin.  Your back tightens, your head tilts back and you hand around Sam’s wrist grips him tighter as you shudder through your second orgasm.  

This certainly wasn't what you expected when you had sent those dirty texts to Dean this morning.  “Or I guess you can get her to cum that way,” Dean says, his voice almost in awe, his breath skitting over your wet finger.  

Licking your dry lips, you suck the bottom one between your teeth as you catch your breath.  You wiggle under Sam’s weight, his chin resting in the valley between your breasts, his hands skimming over your sides.  Hooking your feet on the back of his thighs, you hold him tight to you as your hips press up.  Hearing him groan softly, you slowly open your eyes, watching the hunger that spreads across his face.  

You sit up, pushing at his shoulders, shoulders that wouldn't quit, your eyes never leaving his.  Dean reluctantly lets go of your hand as you push at Sam’s shirt, divesting him of it.  Your fingers play over his warm skin, mapping every groove.  As your fingers find those two lines that lead to the fly of his jeans, your smile widens.  The front of his pants are dark, not from him, but from your own juices.  You had soaked him.  And you were not the least bit sorry as you pushed his jeans and shorts to his knees.  

You watch his face closely as your hand wrapped around him, hot in your palm.  His eyes fall shut as his hips hitch forward slightly at your strokes, your name escaping on the next breath from between his lips.  Dean presses a kiss to your shoulder, making you look at him, his own eyes dark.  Giving him his own smile, you kiss his forehead before guiding his lips to yours.  You stifle a soft sigh as his tongue breaches your lips, your hand around Sam tightening.  Leaning back on your elbow, you line Sam’s cock up to your pussy, teasing yourself with just the head, gliding him through your copious amount of slick.  He groans as you settle him at your entrance.  Unable to hold back, he pushes into you with one fluid motion, burying himself deep.  You grasp loudly into Dean’s mouth at the feel of Sam reaching places that Dean hadn’t with you leaned over the table.  Your legs tighten around Sam’s hips as he pushes just a little harder, relishing the feel of you tight around him.  Settling one hand on your hip, the other on the table, Sam draws back a small amount before pushing back.  You growl against Dean’s lips, his teeth nipping at your lip.   “Show Sammy what you can do with that pussy of yours.” he encourages.  

“My pleasure,” you say wickedly against his mouth, your hand finding its way to Samm’s ass as he begins to rut into you harder, faster.  You feel yourself ripple around him, this angle making him press deeper in you.  Hooking your leg over his elbow, you mewling at the stretch of your tendons and the delightful shivers he is sending through your body as he hits just the right spots with each stroke.  

“That’s it, big boy,” you mutter, his body tight to yours as you both aggressively fuck each other, your hips rolling in perfect time with him.  You can hear the wet sounds of your coupling, making you clench at him.  Dean wasn’t exactly a gentle lover, but this is something different.  This was a whole level of rawness with Sammy.  Maybe it was because it was your first time together, along with the added level of naughtiness that forbidden fruit held.  With a whimper, your hand scratches at his back, drawing blood  as his thrusts became shorter, keeping himself as deep as possible in you, his hand holding you in place as he savagely fucked you.  

“Atta girl,” Dean says, his hand wedging  itself between you and Sam, his touch surprisingly sure considering how close his hand was straying to his own brother’s dick, making you half wonder if this wasn't the first time they shared a woman.  Your body tightens around Sam at the thought that you weren't the first woman in this spot and with a single stroke of Dean’s finger against your clit, you keened loudly.  Dean’s name tumbling from your lips first, followed closely by Sam’s as you felt his hips stutter above you.  Your body turns into molten lava at their strokes.  Your hand gripping tightly to Sam  as he sandwiches Dean’s hands between your bodies as his hips jerked tight to yours.  Your hand wraps around Dean’s wrist, tugging on it, silently begging him to stop touching your overly sensitive bundle of nerves as you tremble below Sam.  The two of you slumped into a sweaty ball as Dean hummed his approval, kissing your forehead and ruffling Sam’s hair before wandering out of the room. 

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[red-bat-arse]

I Got a Problem 🎸🎶🎻

AO3

Chapter One/Two

Eddie 'The Freak' Munson, famous for bringing rock to new heights with his band Hellfire, listens to everything but Country. 'King' Steve Harrington, leading light of the new generation of traditional Country artists, has a few thoughts about that.

=<+>=

Eddie made himself go into the studio, even though he felt sick to his stomach at the idea of another fruitless session. He'd just feel worse if he stayed home -he'd lay in bed all day with his brain running in circles about getting into his office and working, and he'd keep thinking about it until the sun went from risen to set and he fell back asleep, exhausted from doing fuck all.

So he pulled into the lot and grabbed his traveller thermos to keep him going until someone made him take a break for lunch, and he trudged inside, waving over at Claudia as he passed reception. She looked extra busy, on the phone and typing at the same time, so he didn't stop until the elevator brought him upstairs and he pushed into the lounge room, beelining straight for the coffee machine.

It was weirdly busy in the halls for this early. Sure they were old school at Prison Break and it was an unspoken rule that at least half of everyone's work should be done in house, but the kids usually left it to the afternoon and Wayne preferred his late nights where he could chat with Hop and the guards as long as he liked. Granted, Eddie hadn't done much but hole up in a recording booth these last few months, but he was usually pretty solid on his friends' schedules.

Then the drawl made it to his ears, and he realized one crucial point he'd failed to take into account -country artists were morning people.

"Morning, Munson," was called over, and when he glanced in their direction it was... well, he was pretty sure he knew the kid, the younger of Mama Byers' two sons. The girls looked familiar from the party last week, but otherwise he was drawing a blank.

"Uh, hey," he raised a hand, not really in the mood to socialize. His mind kept drifting back to the unfinished songs on his computer and the sound techs he kept having to put off talking to about production ideas. But he already dug his grave with Harrington, he supposed he should play nice with some of the rest of them; while the pot was filling he meandered over and glanced down at the papers scattered on the table. "Album art?"

The kid -Bill? Will? Yeah, Will -nodded, smiling shyly. "I said I'd do some sketches up for Mike's EP -uh, we got to talking at the party," he ducked his head, and Eddie pulled a nearby one over to inspect it. It kind of reminded him of his classic D&D manuals, and he guessed it'd suit the medieval imagery Mike favoured. "I'm not planning on recording anything right now, so it'll keep me busy. I really liked the painting you chose for The Wrong Road -I heard you and Grant did it yourselves?"

Another country boy who knew his work, would wonders never cease? "Yeah, Grant and I workshopped it. I'm sure I've got the sketches around if you ever wanna see them," he offered, and Will nodded quick. "And you ladies are...?"

A prim little brunette in a ruffled shirt and a blonde who would've looked like a cheerleader if she wasn't wearing an oversized flannel and one of the biggest belt buckles he'd ever seen. "Chrissy Cunningham, charmed," the blonde said with a giggle and an exaggerated accent, holding up her hand like a lady in a period drama. When Eddie went to take it she shifted smoothly into a firm handshake. "And this's Nancy Wheeler. It's real nice to be at a good label finally, thanks for putting up with the tight quarters on such short notice."

"It's no problem," Eddie stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged, one eye on the coffee machine. He could almost feel the shadow of an idea for a chord coming on, if he could just get his joe and go. "Tiger really as shitty as they say?"

"Whatever you've heard, it was worse," Nancy said, crossing her arms. "Thank god Steve finally got to everyone. I was really to shoot my way out."

"Nancy also shoots pistol competitively," Will piped up helpfully.

"It was... restrictive," Chrissy said with the air of someone holding themselves back, especially with the way Nancy snorted derisively. "Especially to us girls. Purity rings, attending church, that sort of thing -Steve was the one who convinced us we could walk away, and hired a lawyer so we could take our work with us. Even though he-"

"We're very glad to be at Prison Break," Will interrupted, nodding up at Eddie. "Especially me and Jonathan, because Chief Hopper brought Mom in with such a good contract, we don't all have to work extra. We can just focus on the music, or my art, or anything."

"And once we're done with the new album, Hopper said we're free to record solo work. Never would've gotten that from Tiger," Nancy smiled, satisfied, and Eddie suddenly recalled she was one of the Harrington quartet. Her and the elder brother Byers and one other girl. "Is anyone on your team good with percussion?"

Eddie had exactly zero interest in discussing how percussion could work into a good old square dance, or whatever. Luckily he was saved from more talking by the shrill beep of the coffee machine, and he waved himself off with a half promise to ask if Grant was still dabbling in trumpet as of late.

As he filled the thermos up, he turned over what 'worse than you've heard' could mean. He knew he'd been lucky in both labels he'd signed with over his career, thanks to Wayne, but everyone heard the horror stories eventually.

Tiger Studios had always flown under the radar, a bigger record label on the other side of the city from Prison Break that catered exclusively to Country singers in much the same way PB used to cater to hard rock. Honestly, Eddie was a little behind the times, since even before the accident he'd been focused on the album, the tour, and helping plan Jeff's impending nuptials.

Of course, he heard the gossip the past few weeks. One artist dropping their label was rare, let alone ten at once like happened at Tiger. Harrington's lawyer must be fucking amazing to pull that shit off, although there were rumours of the execs only backing off because of some pretty hefty accusations flung their way. The kind of shit that made Eddie thank god for Wayne and Hopper whenever he thought about it too hard.

And in the middle of it all, or at the helm, was 'King' Steve Harrington, risen star of Country at large. Most of the references went over his head, but when someone was called a modern day Garth Brooks, well, that wasn't a light title to bear, even Eddie could say that. It'd be the metal equivalent of a new Ozzy Osbourne -it could happen, but increasingly unlikely as time went on. Harrington, who apparently convinced all the others to leave, and ensured they actually could -that was closing in on Dio territory if he really got away with it without a hitch.

He wasn't too sure if he actually had, though. He caught Chrissy's little slip, before Will broke in; but in the end, it wasn't any of his business. Harrington was here now, signed with them all neat and legal-like, so he'd obviously fought his own battle and come out the victor. The details would probably reach him eventually.

For now, he twisted the lid on his coffee and turned to go, grabbing a banana when his stomach twinged in protest. As he left, Mike and El came in with two more of the country club, and all four called after him their good mornings, more chipper than he was used to so early.

Eddie waved over his shoulder, already wanting to just go home and sleep. He shifted his thermos to his better hand and trudged up to his usual booth anyway. He couldn't keep the band on hiatus forever.

*

The trend continued through the next while; every time Eddie walked in, no matter what time of day or which floor he was on, the studio seemed more bustling and lively than ever before. Part of it was just that an extra ten people, and a few more security and special technicians and the like, just meant it was natural. But, grudging as he had to admit, the country club were all around just happy to have a space to work on their music and weren't shy about interacting with everyone. Even Eddie, who was probably the least approachable besides Hopper and in a perpetual bad mood besides, he found himself getting pulled into little talks with them on his brief forays into the lounge -although it was mainly Chrissy, who was the most personable of the whole lot.

It probably helped that she smoked about as much as he did, and they swapped a few tips between them to break the ice. Or, she smoked as much as he did on a good day. Lately he was tearing his hair out over his writers block more often than not, so he was smoking nearly every night when he got home, and a bit on his lunch breaks when it really got bad. That was probably why he put his foot in his mouth the way he did, about two weeks into Prison Break's new normal.

Eddie was at the tail end of a string of bad days, and not just because of the dead end of working on the album. Monday was the five year anniversary of his old man dying in jail of a heart attack, which already put him off completely. He was on pins and needles for days, irritated at the slightest reminder and getting reminded at every turn, which sucked because even the good memories were all tinged with hurt by now. Then he cut his hand open on a tin of tomatoes at home like an idiot, which was probably the worst because it meant he couldn't even write when the rare burst of inspiration hit him. He didn't need stitches, but it was a close thing.

After that, it all snowballed. He was frustrated, so he tried to work it out on his laptop -he couldn't get the lyrics to work, so he fiddled with the arrangements he'd written down -when he couldn't visualize how the sounds would mesh, he stomped down to one of the empty booths to play previous recordings back until they poured out of his ears and he was ready to scream. All that, so when lunch or his inevitable breaking point came by he was first out to the courtyard to light up and try to smoke the stress away.

Usually, at work, it was just cigarettes. Today, Eddie sucked down half a joint and the sandwich he brought from home and then went up to claim a booth.

Today, though, his usual booth was occupied. Today, he came into the observation area to see Steve Harrington and the elder brother Byers sitting inside, no sound techs or anything around, picking on their guitars and bickering back and forth about lyrics and timing for the fiddle to come in on the chorus.

And the fucking song was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard.

"I don't blame this brewski for sweatin' like it's guilty of something," Harrington sung jauntily, hamming it up for Byers, who rolled his eyes but obliged with picking out a tune. Eddie had stopped dead when he realized they were working, if you could call a song apparently about feeling bad for drinking a 12 ounce on the water work, and watched with his blood boiling as Harrington sketched out a whole song in a few minutes.

He found himself horribly jealous, not something he often had to deal with, at the ease with which it seemed to come to Harrington. Sure, it wasn't exactly fucking Mob Rules being written in there but it was leaps and bounds more than Eddie was accomplishing at the moment, and he clenched his fists as the pair inside busted up laughing at their own silly song.

Harrington even broke out a stupid, embarrassing Elvis impression for the end of one of the last choruses, which Byers suggested they leave in. Like they were completely fucking around with this in one of Prison Break's good recording rooms, completely unaware that there were other people who wanted to use it to work on serious projects. Not on three chord nonsense songs that talked about the fish not biting at the fucking lake.

Eddie didn't know how long he stood there fuming but unable to make himself interrupt, but it must have been a good while because when Byers pushed open the connecting door and saw him, his knees were sore when he unlocked them.

"Uh, hey man, didn't notice you," Byers said awkwardly, one eyebrow raised at whatever expression was on Eddie's face right now. He didn't dwell on it, just looked back at Harrington as if Eddie wasn't even there. "You good with me taking off early?"

"Yeah, man, go get Baby Byers," Harrington waved him off, flashing those pearly whites again. Bigger Byers nodded, and kind of skirted around Eddie as best he could, his guitar on his back -the door to the hall swung shut with a click, leaving him alone with Harrington.

The other man stood up and stretched, no less put together here than at the party a few weeks back. This time it was a little polo ensemble, brown and cream to match the boots again, a big blue buckle on the belt to go with the blue jeans on his ass. That ticked Eddie off too.

"What's up with you, Munson?" Harrington asked, barely glancing his way as he packed up his songbook. "Did you finally figure out your hair needs conditioner instead of twelve in one?"

"Ha. Funny," Eddie sneered, making Harrington actually look at him. He could feel the frustration from hell week bubbling over, eager for an easy target he already didn't like. "Don't you get tired of singing that shit? Brewskis, Harrington? You've got to be embarrassed."

Harrington straightened up, one hand on his belt, the other with a few loose papers held firmly in front of him. He leveled Eddie with an almost bored look, huffing once like he didn't have a care in the world, like Eddie was the weird one here.

"Beer on the lake, fish in the water, might as well put a truck and a pretty girl in there, get a bingo card," Eddie went on, even more irritated at the non-reaction. "What, not enough songs on the album about drinking already?"

"No, man, it's just a fun one," Harrington said, shoulders shrugging. "It's not that serious."

"It's a waste of time is what it is," Eddie threw up his hands, the first big movement since he'd walked in, and oh, god, ow. "You could actually sing about something important, y'know."

Finally that seemed to make Harrington twitch. "Y'know, Munson, you're being pretty judgey right now. You don't know what is or isn't important to me."

"You're gonna tell me a song about demolishing a pack of crap beer by a lake is important to you," Eddie said, stung by the reprimand, if only because Harrington was right. He was kind of losing his grip on why he was even in here, why he'd even come in today when he felt so bad. "Look me in the eyes and say that. Go on!"

Eddie half expected Harrington's expression to go steely, kind of like when he'd been interrupted by Murray at the party.

Instead, Harrington cracked a smile and shrugged again. He dropped his notebook in his messenger bag and put his hands on his hips, tilting his head to look at Eddie up and down, inspecting him.

"Does it have to be without laughing? Cause I don't think I can make it," he crossed his arms and pursed his lips, a little furrow appearing in his forehead. "Are you okay, Munson? You don't look so good."

"I'm fucking fine," Eddie grit out.

"Alright," Harrington held up his hands. "Then, no, a song about a pack of beer ain't that important. But I still think you're being harsh. I get you don't like my music, but you don't have to go out of your way to antagonize me, man."

"I'm trying to be helpful, man. I don't want you laughed off stage when you break out your cringey little Elvis bit," Fuck, why couldn't he just stop? Not everything that reminded him had to be fucking attacked, but now with Harrington actively engaging him, it was almost like he'd passed the point of no return. "If I'm thinking it, so are other people."

Harrington rolled his eyes hard. "And if everyone told me to jump off a bridge, I'd say sure, which one! Do you hear yourself, Munson? I thought rock was supposed to be all about counterculture."

"Rock is an outlet. Sorry for caring about what I put out into the world, I guess I just don't want to embarrass my fans," he'd gotten closer to Harrington at some point, and it was weird -the way his blood was pumping, he almost felt good for the first time in who knew how long. "Or my label for that matter."

Harrington cracked. "I don't put out songs to please the fans, asshole, or any fucking label. I've got fans because they like the music I make. Sure you ain't a little confused?"

"No, I've got it. You've got low standards," Eddie smirked and relished the offence written on Harrington's stupid pretty face.

"Well, at least I can still make music," he said, finally angry, and Eddie flinched back like he'd been slapped. "You're right, Munson, I'm glad to put out a hundred songs that are corny and cringey, because at least they're genuine. How long's Hellfire been on hiatus now, seven months? You ever think the reason you can't spit out a single track anymore is because you're too wound up your own ass and stuck there, you fucking prick?"

In the ringing silence after that, Eddie's mouth dropped open and he felt his face go pale. Harrington's eyes went wide and he muttered a curse under his breath, instant regret plain as day on his face.

"God, Munson, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"You obviously fucking meant it," Eddie snarled, but it was weak, and his head was swimming. His hands were trembling at his sides, heat crawling up his neck at the realization he'd been an unwarranted asshole and brought this on himself. Just another shit day on the tail end of a shit week of a shit seven months. "Fuck this, I can't fucking think anymore. I'll stay out of your fucking hair, Harrington."

"No, wait, man, is something wrong-"

"I said I'm fucking fine!" Eddie stepped forward and shoved Harrington back when he looked about to come close, and didn't feel any better. In fact, when the guy only looked more concerned, he felt about ten times smaller, and his stomach lurched like he was going to be sick.

"Have fun with your goof off anthems, man. I've got actual music to work on."

He ignored anything else Harrington might have said and spun on his heel, out the door in two long strides and down the hall in five. He couldn't stand the idea of an enclosed elevator right now, so he pushed into the stairwell and thundered down the three flights to the ground floor, tunnel vision getting him out the back and into the parking lot in record time.

He was such a fucking idiot. Why did he do that? Why did he see Harrington and go completely off the rails like an absolute lunatic -it wasn't even his fault that country just -jesus christ, he must think he was crazy-

Eddie let out a strangled laugh and fumbled his keys to the ground, reaching down and grabbing them after a shaky minute. He probably shouldn't be driving.

He got into his car anyway, put the keys on the dashboard and sat there like a weirdo staring straight ahead, gripping the steering wheel tight enough to make his fingers ache.

Maybe Harrington was right.

Maybe every shitty thing he'd ever heard from a tabloid was right -that he was a fucking snob who took himself too seriously, and was only making music for the money. There were people who thought he didn't even like making music, and after seven months of this, how could Eddie refute them?

He didn't like it anymore. The thought made his teeth chatter and his brain shy away, but it was true. Ever since he woke up in the hospital and got his expected recovery time on a little note card, he'd dreaded picking up a guitar again. When he finally forced himself to, the chords didn't come easily anymore, and all he could hear was the echo of Jeff's horrified scream. He put it down and tried to write lyrics, but everything was too dark, or too confusing, or made Gareth's face pinch when he looked over the cue cards. He stopped being able to write them not long after.

He didn't like making music. Eddie gagged on nothing and curled in on himself, shivering even in the warm air. He hated making music! He was up his own ass about the album, and getting back on the horse for the fans, and writing these fucking asinine songs about pointless, serious topics that the charts would love and the magazines would rave over and-

Even if he did write it, he wouldn't be able to tour. It hit him like a brick that if he could barely pick up his guitar in the studio, how the hell was he supposed to walk back on stage after what happened? How the fuck was he supposed to play live with all those people watching him when he couldn't even play for himself?

Oh god, he'd never make another album-

Eddie jolted in his seat at that particular thought and fumbled for his keys again, getting them in the ignition with nausea rolling in his stomach. He couldn't think about that right now. Not here in his car where anyone could see -not five minutes after making a complete awful fool of himself and running away like a coward. He had to get home and get in bed and hide. He had to get somewhere safe to freak out.

He didn't remember the drive home, but he got there. Ben took one look at him and ushered him in, accompanying him into the elevator and taking his keys from him to open his door once they reached his floor. The doorman got him inside and tried to fuss, but Eddie loudly thanked him and asked him to go, so he did, reluctantly.

Eddie got to his bedroom, crawled under the covers, and curled himself into a ball.

Maybe he'd never make another record.

Maybe he'd be on hiatus for forever and let down all his fans and Hopper. He'd let down his band, and his uncle, and he'd disappoint his Momma, and he'd never make another album because-

-because he was scared of doing another live show and getting hurt again, and he couldn't write lyrics anymore because everything was wrong in his head, and he couldn't pick up a guitar anymore because his hand wasn't right anymore-

Because he didn't check. Because he fucked up just like always, just like he'd fucked up today by not walking out the minute he heard twangy guitar and let himself get reminded of his shit Dad and how he used to hurt him and-

-Eddie was just-

-he was just-

-so tired.

[softquietsteadylove]

ahhh can we see protective gil in circus au? there’s no way he’s letting her stay locked up forever!

Eyes followed as Thena finally emerged from the sleeper car. She wasn't dressed for rehearsal, she was wearing a regular old dress. Everyone stared but no one dared say a word.

She walked confidently enough, even though she had a beast of a man trailing behind her. He met every pair of eyes with a glare, practically growling at them all like a dog. Although no one would have described him as the guard dog type. He was the one who had locked her up, after all.

Gil almost cried when he saw her.

Thena looked well, but also terrible. She was dressed in her soft, cream coloured dress, and her hair was free and flying around her shoulders. But she looked exhausted, like she hadn't seen the sun in a week and barely eaten.

Gil had been waiting for her to rejoin them for what certainly felt like a week but he knew was less. He had tried to exchange words with her, whisper through the slats of the car window, anything. But since the kiss they had shared, Kro had hardly left her side.

But Kro didn't cut a protective picture. He looked like the spectre of death, hunched over and looming behind her. Like a gargoyle on an old building watching over something possessively.

"Miss," some of the guys from the crew dared to nod their heads to her as she passed them to reach the stew pots with today's lunch.

Kro stared them down for it.

She nodded back to them, a faint smile on her lips. Gil didn't have to hear her say a word to know she was tired. The way she moved said everything. He set down the supplies he had been helping move and walked over.

"Vet."

"Boss," he greeted with a harsh tone but the right word. He didn't let his eyes drift to Thena at all, but he wasn't about to stand by and let Kro bully her with silence either. "Think we'll be ready for the next show?"

If Kro knew his real intentions, he said nothing. He kept his eyes on him as well. "Replacement wire won't be easy to get. But I don't want to miss any more shows than we already have."

The greatest shock to all of them had been when Kro had not let Thena out of her cage and instead actually cancelled their last show. It was possible to perform without the high wire, technically. And of course any normal show would cancel due to the safety concern.

But Kro wasn't normal, and everyone had speculated even more at the missed opportunity to naturally see if Thena was alive and well with their own eyes.

"You could always let us go into town to find some."

The train always stopped outside of town, for obvious reasons. But if they needed supplies, Kro would go himself, in the past. He didn't let them go into town to meander and mingle. He said it was to prevent them from getting drunk or hungover or god forbid arrested. In reality, it was for the sake of control over them.

"I'll go tomorrow."

Thena set down her bowl. Was just that too tiring for her? "We can do the show without it."

Gil was shocked that the suggestion had come from her. Shouldn't she have been the one most eager to do away with the damned routine risking her life? But he still didn't give Kro the window of opportunity. "Should probably get a net too, right?"

Breaths were held. He was poking the bear, and he knew it. Kro always said he felt strongly about not using a net. A net would imply he didn't have faith in his wife, in his own words. It had nothing to do with the extra expense and set up time.

Kro stepped closer to him. Thena hovered between them distance wise, her back still turned. "I still have faith in my wife, despite the unfortunate incident."

Gil bit his tongue on the subject of faith in his wife. But he couldn't help letting his eyes say a little more as he spoke, "I have faith in Thena. But maybe your faith isn't enough."

Kro leaned right into his vision, baring his teeth at him like a dog. "Are you questioning my wife?"

"Thena is safe," Gil met his eye without fear. He could press their heads together so hard they bled, he didn't care. "That's all that matters."

Thena turned, putting her hand on Kro's arm. "Let's go."

But Kro didn't budge. He kept his eyes on Gil but he moved his hand to grasp the arm she was using. "Don't interrupt, dearest."

Gil gripped Kro's shirt in his fists. "Why did she wince?"

"What?"

But Gil didn't let up. He dragged Kro forward and up and away from Thena. His vision blurred of everything except the monster in his grasp. "You grabbed her arm, she winced. Is she hurt?"

"I would never lay a hand on her!" Kro roared at him. He wasn't exactly lifted off the ground, being taller than Gil even. He grabbed Gil's shirt as well, the two of them pulling nowhere.

"I've seen you do it before," Gil growled. He could remember clear as day when Kro grabbed Thena by the arm - the first night she had kissed him - and dragged her away under the moonlight.

He tossed Kro back, immediately turning to Thena. His hands hovered around the sleeves of her dress, coming just low enough. His fingertips brushed her soft skin. She felt cold. "Are you okay?"

She didn't deny anything, just looked at him. "He didn't hurt me Gil, just grabs sometimes."

His face darkened.

"Don't, Gil," she whispered, trying to talk him down from the precipice. "I know he's a bastard but don't--you don't want this fight."

He just barely pushed her sleeve up, seeing the faint bruising appear from where Kro had taken her entire, delicate arm in his beastly paw of a hand. He snarled.

"Gil," she repeated louder, but it felt like he was hearing her through water. His vision blurred even more. He'd never understood 'seeing red' before. "He will kill you."

As if he could abide something like this.

[vacantgodling]

::::::::::::::::: CAGE ::::::::::::::::::

read the full fic on ao3!

CHAPTER 2. KINSLAYER

After the disaster of the previous meeting, which ended in everyone storming or abruptly seeing themselves out—everyone was on edge. The ever-present chatter that accompanied the day to day activities and maintenance to the Watchpoint was taken out back, so to speak, and Cole was mourning it like he mourned his first puppy who passed away suddenly after a hit and run. He’d cried and cried about it, near inconsolable for weeks until his mama told him: When good things die, something better comes to replace them. They bought him a bigger dog a few months later, and little Cole took those words to heart. 

And so far in his life now that he was older—not really wiser but experienced on a good day—he’d found that to be mostly true, even if there were some hurts he could never recover from. His mom’s death led to the Deadlock Gang, the gang led to Blackwatch, and a mother figure in Ana, a father in Reyes, and companions who—if shifty (looking at you O’Deorain)—had his back. And then that went to shit too—and for a long time he doubted his mother’s words. But then Winston issued the Recall. He wrestled with it… as he was sure all agents who weren’t Reinhardt did. But up until this meeting, he’d come to realize that once again her words rang true. Something better had come to replace what the old Overwatch was. 

But something else Cassidy learned in all of his travels and escapades, is that he was her god’s goddamn favorite punching bag. So of course, whenever things were going too well for him, life had to throw him a curveball. At this point, he was just feeling a bit sore that god’s form of a curveball also sucker punched the people he held dear too. 

48 hours passed, slow as a snail’s meander. As expected, Cole didn’t see a big fancy ORCA roll up to the hangar or anything touchdown on the helipad. Not a taxi, a car, a small personal aircraft, anything that would be normal. In fact, he didn’t see the brother assassin in the flesh until after a small mission briefing for their first real engagement as Recalled Overwatch. They would be heading out to Reinhardt’s old stomping ground of Eichenwalde due to reports of break ins to the old abandoned castle, and shifty characters poking around the historical site itself. It wasn’t a rough and tumble mission Winston kept repeating. It was simply to offer generosity and aid. Torbjörn cooked up some new sentries for them to place around the castle out of sight to deter any nighttime visitors. They would go under the cover of darkness, and leave before the sun rose high on the horizon. In, out, done. 

So of course, Cassidy was the one tasked with the check of the ORCA. He wasn’t sure why when Lena was right there, but Winston seemed to have her up to a couple of different things so he didn’t really mind sharing the burden. It also would give him a chance to continue to peep around and look for the elder Shimada. He was supposed to be here after all, and even Genji hadn’t seen a hide nor hair of him. 

In fact, he was starting to think that Genji’s infamous killer might be a ghost. 

Or at least, he wanted to keep thinking that. It would save him the bullets after all. 

But as mentioned, life was not kind to Cole Cassidy. 

“Shimada?” Cassidy called, hesitantly. He’d walked out into the hangar and saw something distinctly person-shaped perched atop of one of the ORCA’s wings—several hundred feet in the air mind you—and seemed to be listlessly staring out at the sunset through the slotted panels of the hangar door.

The person only gave him a grumpy, uninterested hum in lieu of response. So… This had to be Hanzo but….

“What in the Sam hell are you doin’ up there?”

A full cake, of all things, sat precariously perched on one knee, and the stranger shoved a piece in his mouth, not garnering Cassidy’s question with a response.

##

He remembered at some point these past two days, Brigitte asked Genji what type of personality they should be expecting from Hanzo. Was he a jokester? Was he serious? Cassidy felt it was a simple question with a simple answer (who cares? He’s a murderer) though apparently, a loaded answer. If Genji removed his faceplate, Cassidy would’ve seen the concerned frown take over his face. 

“I have known my brother to be meticulous and serious.” Genji said slowly. “But when I approached him initially, he looked at me and laughed.” 

“Laughed?” Cassidy asked incredulously. “What the hell is there to laugh about, lookin’ into the face of yer greatest sin?” 

“Perhaps it was only momentary disbelief.” Genji said. “But it has been so long since the two of us have communicated—“ For good reason. Cassidy wanted to add but he held his tongue. “—That I am no longer sure.” 

“I guess we’ll see when he gets here!” Brigitte said, forcing a smile. 

##

Cassidy stood there, squinting up at the man. Hanzo still hadn’t said anything in response. Instead, he picked up his fork and shoveled another piece of cake into his mouth. Cassidy mentally counted to ten. Then with a noisy, irritated sigh, he bit. 

“Are ya ignorin’ me?” From atop the ORCA, Hanzo finally turned his head. The look he was giving him could only be described as condescending; like an emperor gazing from atop his mountain throne at the peasant who dared interrupt him. 

“Ah, so it seems you can teach an old dog new tricks.”

Of all the things Cassidy thought Hanzo would say, that wasn’t one of them. It showed. He sputtered for a moment before he composed himself. “Pardon you?”

“The art of observation, Cole Cassidy.” Hanzo said, his mouth still full of cake. How he already knew his name settled something like discomfort in Cassidy’s gut. From here, Cassidy could see little flecks of white frosting in his neatly trimmed goatee. It seemed uncharacteristic for him to allow that, but hell, what did Cassidy know? 

“It was one I thought lost on you from the moment we met.”

“We haven’t met.” Cassidy said gravely. Hanzo tilted his head, regarding him. Then said, “Perhaps I imagined our encounter in the hall.” 

“When?” 

Hanzo didn’t elaborate. They stood in stilted silence for what felt like another 20 minutes before Cassidy sighed loudly again, and answered the question Hanzo didn’t even ask. 

“‘M real good at observin’ people.” He drawled, eyes narrowed and a frown pulling even deeper over his face. “‘Specially when I don’t trust ‘em.” Hanzo snorted. 

“As far as you could throw me, I presume, cowman?” 

“Cow boy.” Cassidy ground out. Hanzo dragged his eyes up and down his physique, his eyes piercing and calculating. His voice was much gruffer than Cassidy imagined it to be—especially marrying it with the ridiculous image of the man eating cake on top of a parked aircraft. Maybe the smallest shred of him that wanted to find some humanity in the assassin almost expected him to sound more like Genji.

“You look much too large to be a boy.” Hanzo finally decided, and upturned his nose, licking a smidge of frosting off his fingers in the process. “However, if you wish to be one, your shortcomings become much more explanatory.”

“Shortcomings?” Cassidy’s hand went to his belt, thumbing the grip of Peacekeeper. Any other person would take the warning, but as it was Hanzo laughed—and this must be the laugh Genji was talking about that perplexed him. It was more of an unrefined puff of air than a laugh, with not a single hint of muscle moving to indicate that he may be deriving joy from any of this. In fact, he stared straight back at Cassidy, unblinking. 

“Shoot me if you like then, cow boy.” Hanzo twirled his fork in his hand with flourish, before stabbing it back into the cake again. The violence of the act seemed to mimic how one would stab another and Cassidy felt his body run hot. He pulled back another chunk, like pulling flesh from a carcass. “However, I do not think Genji would be very pleased if you shot his aniki on the first day he arrived.”

“I don’t give a damn what Genji thinks!” Cassidy growled. He whipped Peacekeeper out of her holster, brandishing her at the cake-eating man on top of the ORCA. “He’s a damn fool for bringin’ you here. Fer thinkin’ that someone like you can be redeemed.” 

“You and I are in agreement then.” Though Hanzo’s frankness did make him start, Cassidy did not lower his gun. “Ya think if you agree with me, I won’t shoot ya dead?”

“I would prefer it if you did.” Hanzo set his cake to the side, then sat up straight, puffing out his chest, giving Cassidy a clearer shot. “If you are going to shoot me, be sure you shoot to kill.”

“What’s going on out here lads?” Lena’s voice startled the two of them out of their “conversation.” She strolled into the hangar, probably to check on Cassidy and ensure that he didn’t somehow blow up her plane before they took off tomorrow. However, Cassidy was sure that she wasn’t expecting to see him pointing a gun threateningly at Hanzo, who was still perched on top of the damn ORCA, seemingly without a care in the world.

“I…” Lena looked back and forth between them. “I heard shouting.” She said lamely. She was bouncing from foot to foot; seeming to try and determine if she should run and find Winston or Genji, should Cassidy go to shoot. 

Before Cassidy could say a word, however, Hanzo spoke.

“He was merely demonstrating his technique.” Cassidy did not expect Hanzo to speak to her, hell, he wasn’t expecting Hanzo to speak to him either. Hanzo shrugged. “Average. At best.” He set his cake down on top of the ORCA wing, then leapt to the bridge that connected its outer doors to her interior. He rolled, landing in a crouch, then jumped down a few more bridges to finally land where the two of them were standing.

“Average?” Cassidy snarled, but with Lena present, and feeling a bit ridiculous, he returned Peacekeeper to her holster. Hanzo shrugged. “I have seen better form from my brother when we were boys.” His dark eyes were even more fearsome up close, cutting deep into Cassidy’s own like a chiseler with a long awaited statue of marble. “Hardly worthy to raise my own weapon.” That does it—

“If ya ain’t gonna to fight me like a man, I ain’t gonna kill you like a coward. At least I got honor.” Hanzo’s posture went from relaxed to a viper on the attack in nanoseconds, and like the snake he lashed, grabbing Cassidy by the serape his expression twisting into something venomous.

“What do you know of honor?” He hissed, low enough in the back of his throat. However Cassidy wasn’t in a mood to be afraid. So he snarled right back. “Enough ta know not ta be a gotdamn kinslayer.” 

Hanzo tossed his serape out of his hand, making Cassidy stumble back into the hangar railing. His metal hand reached out to keep balance, bending the bar so hard part of it snapped. Hanzo pushed past Lena before she could say anything else. 

“Cole…” She started, distress clear on her face. Cassidy breathed out hard through his nose. He told himself he wasn’t going to let his emotions get the best of him. Told himself he wouldn’t interact with Hanzo unless he had to. And here he was, breaking his own code. Breathe Cole. He told himself. Fucking breathe. 

“I’m gonna check the fucking plane.” He grumbled, leaving Lena wringing her hands on the hangar walkway.

[squarebracketsmileyface]

BE SAPPY AND WEIRD ABOUT YOUR PROJECT!!! YOU DO DESERVE A HAPPY ENDING!!! AND YOU DESERVE TO TALK ABOUT THE WAYS YOU REALIZED THAT YOU DESERVE IT!!! ARRRARARA YOURE MY FRIEND AND I LOVE SEEING MY FRIENDS HAPPY

I will CRY /threat

Also I took this as an excuse to ramble, because actually thinking about it, damn this fic has done a lot for me. Like this is dramatic as shit but genuinely writing this fic has changed my life in such a good way. You don't have to read all this lol, it's a mess and weird and ended up extremely long, it was just nice to put it down in writing cos it's been meandering around in my head for a while but I haven't spent much time thinking about it in a coherent way and it was nice to get all my ducks in a row with it all

God though, this fic has helped me figure out so many things, and it's so important to me. Like half of what it helped me figure out isn't even things I could put into words properly, like I can't bullet point most of those things, they're just weird emotional things that are just there.

Anyway, back to my dramatic ass "this fic changed my life." Like just for one I've made friends because of it which is amazing, but also like, just the things this fic has helped me process and understand? Like idk they feel like they shouldn't mean that much and should be fairly inconsequential, but they just aren't? Like the whole "hey maybe I can allow Lark to have a happy ending in an "everybody lives" au of this AU" kinda came about at the same time as I started to really settle mentally into my relationship with my boyfriend and stopped feeling that vague threatening feeling of "this is going to hurt like a bitch when something goes disastrously wrong and ruins our relationship, whether platonic or queerplatonic, forever". Like I started really properly feeling and believing "hey maybe it won't go disastrously wrong and he is just a very lovely guy who absolutely won't turn around and be evil and purposefully hurt me at some later date" instead at around the same time I was like "hey maybe Lark's relationship with Tim wouldn't fall all the way the fuck apart and maybe she'd actually get to raise her kid and be a good mum with a good partner and live a nice life where everything would turn out fine in the end."

And also like, another thing this fic helped me figure out a bit is like, just people mentioning how much the way I write Jay makes them think he'd have bpd in this au? Like I think you were one of the first people to mention that and honestly it's put so many things in perspective for me about just, the way my brain works that I didn't have an explanation for before? Or I did, I tried to explain it with Autism but it didn't quite fit perfectly. And like, I still don't know if I have bpd and I probably won't for a long while, but I write all my characters as me in some way, and Jay especially started out as basically just a self insert wearing a terrible wig and those mustache glasses. But from what I've looked into about bpd now it does seem to fit pretty well, especially the parts people have talked about with like, "very intense but unstable relationships with others"? Thankfully I'm better about that now than I was a few years ago? Tho sometimes I still get scared I'm about to become obsessed with my boyfriend in that way that ruins my relationships with people 💀💀 And the thing with like acting really impulsively? Though I've gotten better at stamping down every rage fuelled "hey you should throw this water bottle at that person's broken arm because they hurt you" type impulse since I was a kid. I now know how not to just lash out and harm people way more than they've hurt me, even when it's all my brain can think to do. So like?

Sorry anyway 💀💀💀 that was such a weird ramble to go on. But speaking of obsessions that ruin relationships

I haven't really talked about it much on here, but when I was 16 I was in a sort of similar place to Jay with Alex, not the friends with benefits bit (though yeah there were a few Very Interesting sexual things going on there that I'm definitely not gonna talk about in anything but the broadest strokes 💀) but definitely the "I'm going to string you along because I like you back but you like me way more than I like you and i dont know how to deal with you, so ill have my fun then ignore you the rest of the time," kinda stuff. And like, I was still pretty angry about that when I started writing this fic and it actually kinda helped me feel less angry at the guy? Because at first Alex was at least loosely based on him and the feelings I had about all that (and then later on Alex became a bit more Also Based On Me like Jay is lol). Like, in my case it was apparently a lot more that guys fault than it ended up being with Jay and Alex? I just kinda assumed it was entirely my fault for not texting him first enough cos I was terrified of annoying him by acting as clingy as I felt 💀 but apparently my guy was just actually a little shitty? (again, not gonna go into that here, it's a mess 💀), but like, for at least some of the less Actually Pretty Fucked Up things he did I kinda got to understand where he was coming from through thinking about Jay and Alex and thinking about Alex's pov. Like, he wasn't trying to be cruel, he just didn't like me as much as I liked him. I got obsessed with him and he was just there for some casual sexting and flirting etc lol

But like, yeah. This fic is so important to me, especially Jay and Tim's relationship. I haven't been thinking about that quite as much recently because I've been focussing on If It Ain't Broken and Jaylex, and I might not even get to focus on it in exactly the way I want to for the next Jam fics in the series, but like. Jay's hang ups over Alex and feeling scared that "what if Tim is just the same" is loosely something I've struggled with too. I'm better with it now than I was a year ago, but even so, every now and again not getting a reply to a message pretty much straight away can send me careening down "oh my god I've annoyed him, oh my god he's not going to talk to me for two weeks straight" street lol. Plus other weird hang ups that Jay most certainly doesn't have 💀

My boyfriend puts up with so much, he's wonderful, ily Vin if you're reading this.

Hell, even the way Jay and Alex end up leaving things at the very end of If It Ain't Broken is actually kinda similar to how stuff ended with me and my guy, I didn't even think about that till now. Alex is just gonna go off with Amy out of the blue and Jay isn't going to know what to do, even though he sort of saw it coming? Like he could kinda tell something was up but he doesn't want to accept it because like "oh well it's probably nothing maybe Alex is just busy. And my guy just texted me one day to say "How do you feel about me? Hmm? Oh yeah? Cool I no longer like you, actually, yeah sorry, I know you think you're in love but. Yeah I've been talking to someone else for a couple weeks now so I think this is the end of our little thing. Bye" lmao. I didn't even realise I've planned the Jaylex 'break up' to parallel that 'break up' 💀 tho honestly Jaylex's 'break up' will probably be slightly nicer on them coa Alex is going to move uni's and they're not going to see each other. So no panic attacks on sight for those two, lucky fucks.

[milimeters-morales]

me rambling under the cut

one of the least bad/most annoying side effects of atsv is how much it fucks over my thinking process when i’m trying to write a more realistic way of miles meeting up with people and friends from other worlds while being a student + spider-man + having a family that likes to spend time together, esp since i like to throw some comic characters into the mix. like it seems easy right? open a portal and go say hi. except you have to still plan ahead, because i have the times set different (for example peter is 30 minutes ahead and pavitr is an entire 12 hours), everyone has lives outside of being a vigilante (though gwen and margo give me the most freedom with this), and sometimes people just don’t wanna hang! don’t get me started on the portal itself, which you need to find a hidden spot to open and then take a few seconds to go through, to another side that you aren’t sure of the exact location. did you see the way the portal to pavitr’s world had Miles? and the way the go-home-machine sent gwen flying? of course, those are two diff types of portals, & there’s a workaround to everything, but it’s still a lot to consider and it just results in me taking forever to actually get shit down on paper. oh my god and the subtle tells of shit being resolved after btsv (bc i am not dealing with that) making the characters seem too ooc when they technically aren’t. bc it could happen. i’m always losing the idgaf war i love details i love hypotheticals and i love hidden meanings

another thing that isn’t canon and is just me making it harder for myself is me adding in anxiety and autism and a weird learned social behavior into the mix for miles. sure, guys and girls hang out. sure, they can be just friends. but he’s a guy who LIKED gwen and his parents don’t have the best first impression but are generally okay with her, and he’s at the age where all his girl friends will be teased as possible girlfriends by damn near everyone he knows. so it’s reasonable for him to not be around her while also around other people who don’t know the two of them like that, because dealing with that shit is exhausting AND embarrassing, stuff we both know Miles doesn’t like even if he can move on pretty quickly. so i expect him to sorta be like “nahhh… my cousins are here and… look let’s just hang out next time pleaseeee” and here’s where the anxiety and autism come in. miles (atsv) is not the type to care about how people view him based on his friends, and autism will result in him missing a lot of social cues but it’s kinda obvious to me that he doesnt miss the more romantic ones when it comes to gwen and how people view them together. this doesn’t help though because he doesn’t know what the do about it! he KNOWS the right thing: don’t let others get to you and work your shit out with gwen the way you know is right. but the anxiety makes him overthink about how gwen views all this (which i don’t actually go into detail that much about bc this is miles’s POV) because she means so much to him. and of course the whole “do i actually like her or is this just really deep connection or” from autism sometimes making it hard to define your feelings and a relationship, and anxiety making it a scary minefield to traverse if you wanna bring it up with said person. and don’t forget the awareness that the anxiety is making everything seem way worse than what it is, which Miles has and is so fed up by.

It all comes off as Miles eventually getting annoyed and tired of Gwen, which you know she did not take well. anyways…. throw all of this in with being a highschool student with a busy schedule and you’ve got miles’s main source of problems . too many friends and too many mental disorders and not enough time . i’m rereading this post and realizing none of it makes sense and kind of meandered .

[original-culture]

Dragon Flower Sutra of Heavenly Store

Chapter 3

Part 1

EXPAND YOUR KNOWLEDGE

Earth Mother Au Co saw that her children could live independently without relying on their parents. Knowing that she could not stay on earth for long, Heavenly Father LAC LONG QUAN, Earth Mother Au Co divided her children into two, fifty. One son followed his father to get acquainted with the sea and islands, fifty children followed his mother to get acquainted with the mountains and forests.

1 Heavenly Father LAC LONG QUAN led 50 sons to get acquainted with the sea and islands, from one sea to another, from one island to another, ending with the mainland and then roaming the bottom of the ocean, just like that from East to West. , from West to East and then back to the old place has already passed ten years, so did MOTHER AU CO, MOTHER AU CO took with her 50 daughters from this great mountain and forest, to other great mountains and forests, to visit the temples. Caves and waterfalls are miracles of nature's creation, from the great mountains and forests of the East to the great mountains and forests of the West, it takes ten years to return to the old place.

2 THE FATHER OF GOD LAC LONG QUAN, THE EARTH MOTHER AU CO gathered the children, then continued to lead 100 children, both male and female, all over the earth, all five continents and four seas, by the path of aviation flying above the clouds. 100 Children of God, Mother Earth Au Co, see the vast ocean, the vast thousands, the towering mountains, the vast deep green forests, the large heaving islands and seas. small, green, vast sea, picturesque landscape of the earth, land, sea, land, rivers and lakes mixed with winding meanderings. It's true that on the dry land, there are birds and countless animals, under the vast sea there are crowded with fish swimming around, there are corals, there are caves, there are waterfalls filled with white silk.

3 After visiting the earth, the LONG FLOWER OF THE HEAVEN, LAC LONG QUAN, and the EARTH MOTHER AU CO continued to lead the children on a tour of the stars and the Milky Way Galaxy. THE FATHER OF THE HEAVEN pointed to the sun and said, have you seen it? no, immediately Father Heaven sent a transparent beam of light shining into the sun, and immediately one hundred children saw a giant, circular, transparent diamond cloud hundreds of thousands of times larger than the earth, attracting divine power. The universe emitted light, becoming a mass of fire, the heat spread extremely fiercely, God told you that with the heat of the sun as well as its spinning with terrible speed, it had transform the Cosmic Force into Cosmic Energy, just as with its heat it burns the Cosmic Essence, burns the Cosmic vitality and transforms it into Cosmic life energy. The energy that nourishes the life of all living things, Essence Energy, Essence energy, these two types of energy are very useful for human health, especially the nervous system as well as physical strength and internal strength, very useful. For people who practice meditation, cultivate energy and practice the path, most of the two physical bodies coalesce thanks to these two energies.

4 HEAVEN FATHER, HEAVEN MOTHER, continue to lead their children to fly to the lower world of 6 heavens, 100 children's eyes are dazzled because the land here is full of treasures, but there are no footprints of humans or other species. brute. Heavenly Father clearly understands your questions by speaking. Here are the levels of heaven and earth in the universe. No animals can come here unless humans teach them how to cultivate. These six levels of heaven are yours, remember.

5 HEAVEN FATHER, HEAVEN MOTHER, continued to lead their children to fly to the 18th level of the universe. 100 children's eyes were dazzled, extremely surprised because the land here was also full of jewels, but it shone brightly. Different from the treasures of the six levels of heaven and earth in the universe, God saw that you seemed so intoxicated and excited, and immediately said that these eighteen levels of heaven are yours, and God will use his supernatural powers to bring you Flying across the sky, once again the 100 children were extremely surprised to see such a vast sky. If night were compared to the Earth, then the Earth on earth would be just a rock or pebble compared to the earth. only the range of heaven, God said the higher the sky, the wider it becomes.

6 GOD'S FATHER, HEAVEN'S MOTHER, continue to lead their Children to fly up to the four levels of heaven in the universe, where this is just the four levels of vacuum. GOD immediately released a ray of light, and immediately the four heavens of the upper world appeared. 100 children, following the light of their heavenly father, saw that the highest, vast and boundless heavens were the divine energy of the heavens. Cosmic force, the lower celestial frequency is the cosmic energy, the lower celestial frequency is the cosmic essence energy, the lowest celestial frequency is the cosmic essence energy. God the Father said, in these four heavens, life expectancy is very long. Even in the lowest heaven, the lifespan is already greater than that of the human earth, not to mention the heaven of cosmic divine energy, the highest heaven for a time the lifespan is equal to the universe, 100 children listen to their father's teachings but I don't really understand anything, but I try to remember to believe what my father taught me. God the Father said he would take you to a place that is the opposite of what you have seen, which is the 18th frequency of Hell. Immediately, the heavenly father immediately waved his hand and in the blink of an eye reached the 10th frequency of Hell from frequency one to The ten, 100 children were extremely confused and scared, especially the weaker sex, because they saw the Qin Difu, the deeper they went into the Qin Difu, the darker the news became, the first Qin Difu was still quite good. Although the land is all iron, zinc, lead, copper, and aluminum, it is still easy to breathe, the life in this world is all the souls of reptiles and animals, which have turned into demons and demons. , they slaughtered each other horribly. As for the subterranean levels from the second level down to the tenth level, they are just empty earth levels. The deeper you go, the lower levels not only have no light, but also the stench of earth, iron, steel, zinc, lead, as well as vapor. cold to the bone, making people feel even more chilled, 100 children told Father Heaven and Mother Heaven that we don't want to visit the underground realms anymore, Father and Mother, these realms were founded by our ancestors. Why? Heavenly Father heard his children's questions and immediately said, these earthly realms were established by the Ancestors for people who have done evil to live. Less evil will be at frequency 1, more evil will be at frequency 2, and so on, there will be more evil. The time of falling to the deeper realms of Hell, from the 11th level down, is the time when great evil people fall to live. Having finished speaking, Father Heaven used magical powers to take you all around the 10th underworld. When the 100 children saw that the 10th underworld was ten thousand times larger than the earth, they were extremely frightened, the heavenly father said. The deeper the underworld, the wider it becomes. Heavenly Father looked at 100 children and said there were 18 generations of Dia Phu. In the future, evil people will build countless underworld societies. In the underworld society, there is hell, and so will other underworlds. Life in the underworld is already miserable. , but also the underworld hell, how miserable the time is, the underworld hell, is an extremely miserable life, not only hungry, but also extremely cruel and horrifyingly tortured by the evil prison guards. Action creates Evil. It's enough to take the children on a tour to expand their knowledge.Heavenly Father and Heavenly Mother immediately led their children back to earth, back to Earth, back to their old place, a visit that had passed for more than a year. Why is there such a strange thing because when we are in the four heavenly realms, we only need to stay for one hour to equal 100 years on earth. With 1,000 years of visiting 28 heavens and 18 lands, it's just a quick visit and then go somewhere else.

7 One hundred children followed their Parents back to earth. Mother Earth Mother Au Co, looking at her majestic, powerful and intellectual children who have grown up, Mother Earth Mother Au Co thought that my children were over a thousand or several hundred years old. Even though they are not yet adults, they have grown up and can be independent. I can no longer stay with you, I will return to the void of the universe, by telling the Dragon Flower Heavenly Father, please teach me. The children go for the last time. God also thinks that he needs to leave his children by calling them to teach them one last time.

8 My children, father and mother are the incarnations of the Ancestors, like Water, manifesting as Bubbles, from formless and formless, manifesting the true form and form, so we are about to return for real. the true appearance of one's own nature, that is, the true appearance of the emptiness of the universe. The Supreme Spiritual Being of your Ancestors, your Ancestors' bodies are like space everywhere, you cannot see them even though they are right in front of your eyes, when will you become righteous? enlightenment, then you will see clearly. Your Ancestors created this earth, which is only a temporary earthly earth, just the cradle where you were born. The last earth structure was created when the three thousand great universes were created. World. You are living in a small cradle, the temporary mortal world, not the eternal world, but your eternal world, which is the heavenly realms of bliss, in all the heavens that you have seen. see. Not only are you living in a temporary earthly world, but your body is only a temporary mortal body, only living for 8 million and 4 thousand years, if you cultivate, your lifespan will be over 100 thousand. When you get old, you have to leave this body for another body. Your child's body is different from the body of your Parents, because your body is the body of the pneumatized quintessence of mortals, so its lifespan is very short unlike the body of your Parents, which is the body of the Innate Essence of the universe. Eternal life is boundless, whether you want it or not, it's nothing. It's all according to your own wishes.

9 Children born in the middle of the fifth kalpa are in the final stage of the kalpa, the peak period of Innate True Qi, so there is a connection connecting the heavens with the earth. You just need to practice. Immediately gather the Two Bodies, destroy the mortal body and fly to the heavens to live. But you must fulfill two vocations as human beings, one is to give birth to children, become fathers, parents, and help pass on the human race, and two is to teach your children the words I have taught you. Children, the small merit is to teach for three generations, establish the Dharma, you become grandparents, the middle merit is seven generations, the great merit is nine generations, in general, you pass on the lineage, along with the teachings. of Me, to establish merit in the Origin Culture, (see the Nhon Luan Hieu Nghia Sutra, which will explain more clearly about cultivating moral character) (as well as the Dragon Flower Tantra Sutra, which will clearly explain how to practice meditation and cultivate qi).

10 Heavenly Father teaches. When you practice, you unite your two bodies as well as transmit my teachings. Teach your children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, great-great-grandchildren, not only to fulfill the way of being grandparents, the way of being father and mother, but also to evolve consciousness and awareness, achieve enlightened wisdom, become BUDDHA, SAINT, FIRST, SPIRIT, and LORD, enter the five cosmic thrones, advance to master the true mind and true nature into the throne of perfect enlightenment, the five cosmic Supreme Beings, BUDDHA, HOLY ANCESTOR, ANCESTOR GOD, GODDESS, LORD. NEST. Even higher are Buddha Patriarch, Saint Patriarch, Immortal Patriarch, Divine Patriarch, Lord Patriarch. And the last peak is Buddha's ancestor, Saint's ancestor, Immortal ancestor, God's ancestor. Remember these are the obstacles on the way forward. The best thing for humans is to save humanity, so please remember my teachings.

11 Heavenly Father teaches. Every human being born, especially those with a position in life, has three common names. Why are there three common names like that, because humans are the life of the collective, the life of family and one's own life when born. One is the clan name, personal name, TWO is the family name when the child was born, THREE is prestige, social status in life, and Mom and Dad are no exception to that.

12 The name of the Father's clan is LONG FLOWER FATHER OF HEAVEN.

Father's name when he had children was LAC LONG QUAN.

Father's prestigious name is LONG HOA CUU HUYEN. HEAVENLY FATHER IN THE DARK LIGHT Tathagata.

Your Mother's clan name is TIEN CO.

When you give birth, you are AU CO.

The reputation of your Mother is the virtuoso FIRST MOTHER OF THE EARTH, NURSURING THE Tathagata.

13 Father has Dragon essence, Mother has Fairy essence, MALE children's name is called QUAN, both king and people, KING is also PEOPLE, it's up to you to choose, FEMALE children's name is called CO, referring to virtue. A woman's improvisation cannot be fully discussed in just one word: military co, military co, heavenly co, mysterious co, sensuous co, improvise, flexible co, opportunity, without opportunity, difficult times. but what does it do? If you have the Army and have the Opportunity, you can do anything. The strength of Quan Co is Quan Binh, remember.

14 Before the two FAIRY DRAGONS said goodbye to the children of Heavenly Father Lac Long Quan, pointing to the Long Hoa mountain range and saying, at the end of the ninth mini-kalpa, about to transition to the tenth mini-kalpa, you should lead your descendants. Son, find the Long Hoa mountain range, that is, the Earth Dragon and make the Dragon and Fairy's home return to the universe.

15 Father God Lac Long Quan finished teaching his children. Father Heaven, Mother Heaven, the two of them hugged their children for the last time. In their boundless love, two precious lotuses like two small mountains slowly flew into the brilliant aura of heaven. Knowing when they appeared, the two FAIRY DRAGONS suddenly grew unusually tall, just like when they first came to earth. They looked at their children for the last time slowly flying up into two lotus flowers. The clear sky suddenly turned dark, the world shed tears because the two Heavenly Fathers and Earthly Mothers had gone, the two precious lotuses slowly flew into the void, gradually farther and farther away and then disappeared, before the scene of separation. Full of emotion, as well as the bewilderment of the cubs, two hundred eyes kept watching and looking.

16 Yesterday's heaven and earth are different from today's heaven and earth, yesterday's heaven and earth were spring heaven and earth, today's heaven and earth are winter heaven and earth, covered with the cold of helplessness, the cold of longing and not knowing when we will see each other again Parents. The coldness of being an orphan, on the thousand-mile road of life.

* In the universe, there are three supreme persons: THE ANCESTOR KHAI, THE FATHER LONG FLOWER, AND THE EARTH MOTHER AU CO. These three Supreme Beings are not only supremely divine, just thinking about them with sincerity will immediately bring about divine inspiration, but are also three beings of boundless power, infinite power, not only creating the universe, creating established the three thousand great worlds, the heavens, the earth, as well as the underworlds, but also created all life, especially humans, the most advanced animal in the universe, The race of fairies and dragons, the race that replaced their ancestors as masters of the universe, created the realm of heavenly bliss.

* The period of the Upper Three Hoans is the period when the ANCESTORS incarnated as humans, incarnated as GOD THE FATHER, THIEN HOAN, and incarnated as MOTHER OF GOD, MOTHER OF THE EARTH. Thus, the period of the Upper Three Rings is the period of Ancestral Perfection, Heavenly Perfection, Earthly Mother Perfection, the period of appearing and then RETURNING, for example, water appears as bubbles and then from the bubbles dissolves and returns to being water. It can be said that the period when the Upper Three Rings were born, gave birth to children and passed on the human race until the end, lasting more than a thousand or several hundred years.

* As for the post-Three Emperors, it is about the children of HEAVEN, who are kings and lords throughout the universe. THIEN EMPEROR, JADE EMPIRE, MOTHER OF THE ROYAL MOTHER, FIRST EMPEROR AND FIRST GOD, in general, the NHON HOANG period. AFTER THE THREE HOANGS, the period after the THREE HOANGS is the period of NHON HOANG, 100 CHILDREN OF HEAVEN, BEFORE THE PERIOD OF DIVISION OF THE FIVE EMPERORS:

1- IS THE QING Emperor, Indigo Skin.

2- IS THE WHITE EMPEROR, WHITE SKIN.

3- IS A CHINESE, RED SKIN.

4- IS THE BLACK Emperor, BLACK SKIN.

5- IS THE EMPEROR, GOLD SKIN.

End of part 1, chapter 3

Please continue reading part 2, chapter 3

Long Hoa Thien Tang.

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Chapter 3

Part 2

THE ROYAL PERIOD

1 THE POWER OF THE HUMAN MIND. Talk about 100 children who bewilderedly looked after their Parents, until the Parents disappeared into the space of the universe a long time ago and still looked after them in bewilderment.

2 Hundred children have now become orphans, how will people live when they have to face so many difficulties in front of them, to become independent and orphans, to confront nature, to confront wild animals, to confront confronting the devil, confronting face-eating, giving rise to the power of human intelligence. The 100 children spent a period of time missing their Father and Mother, but then gradually forgot and got used to independent life, living in harmony with all animals, but humans, different from animals, are self-aware. sew for yourself a set of leaf clothes, materials that have been dried, the stitching is very skillful and sophisticated, as well as the spirit of solidarity and highly organized civilized lifestyle, completely different from the lives of herds of other species. Animals, because of that civilized life, soon humans can control all animals easily. Wherever humans go, animals will be controlled. The Power of Human Intelligence.

3 Since the integration of God the Father and the Earth Mother back to the origin, mankind of five skin colors has always united to live together, live together, creating collective strength to fight back against all odds. powerful force to protect itself. The weapon to protect yourself is the power of human wisdom. With knowledge, life experiences, and difficulties in everyday life, sometimes eating fruit when hungry, other times drinking river water and spring water, humans become more and more intelligent, surpassing forbidden animals in every aspect. face.

4 Not only in terms of scientific inventions, but also always in terms of moral inventions, awareness of social community, especially awareness of strategies, tricks, strategies, tactics, and strategies. strategies and plans to defend against what harms them, what is stronger than them, 100 sons of heaven, thanks to their unusual intelligence, not only know how to use dried leaves to sew clothes, but also know how to make hats and hats. Clothes, to protect against rain, cold, sun, wind, wear grass shoes to protect against insects, mosquitoes, insects, snakes. Invention of hitting rocks with rocks, taking pieces of rock shaped like knives and hammers, or large pieces of rock from waterfalls or streams that have been eroded by water, sharpening it at night, digging up the ground to cut down trees, making weapons household items, necessary tools in daily activities, creating small, sophisticated jewelry, used to express feelings for each other. Give it to your brothers, give it to someone you love.

5 Even though he was an orphan with 100 heavenly brothers, his life was still stable, thanks to knowing how to exploit and preserve the achievements as a foundation for higher evolutionary invention. And it is the inheritance of existing things that invents new things. Knowledge thus develops more and more rapidly, making human life richer day by day. Not only do people know how to make nests of leaves to live in, but they also know how to save them. Accumulate more and more food every day. That's why the conflict between humans and animals becomes more and more fierce every day, especially animals that have lived for over five thousand years and not only have magic, but also have immense strength. Not only fighting for food but also fighting for territory, human strength is the strength of intelligence, combined with the strength of the collective, so despite many conflicts with dangerous animals, humans still had the upper hand and destroyed them, using their skins to dry and sew them into clothes, terrifying the animals, spreading rumors throughout the world, making the top lords all over the world angry at times. Who wants to destroy humanity, especially in the cold winter, fruit is very rare, so humans search for food on a large scale, monkeys and animals do not dare to come close to compete for food. eating with humans, until one day a group of chimpanzees arrived in large numbers, thousands of them, each one unusually large. Wherever the group of chimpanzees went, the other groups of monkeys bowed their heads and lay down. , if not killed by them, even tigers have been killed by them, so they must stay away and not dare to confront them, because there are few tigers that cannot fight them, and moreover, there is no group solidarity.

6 Talking about 100 brothers and sisters from the sky who were gathering fruits and vegetables, grains, and mother Au Co's milk growing all over the world, five continents and four seas, then it sounded like a storm was coming, 100 brothers and sisters. As the sky began to seek shelter, thousands of chimpanzees appeared, each coming in large numbers to surround humans, their howls were deafening, each one was twice or three times the size of a human. , they fiercely bared their fangs and gesticulated arms and legs, jumping back and forth, showing off their mighty spirit, threatening the human spirit before they massacred, they jumped back and forth, making the forest trees look like they had been destroyed by a storm. loud and loud, the sound of cracking and cracking seemed as if the forest was about to collapse.

7 100 heavenly brothers saw a group of chimpanzees attacking like that. Not only were they not afraid, but they were angry. When the group of chimpanzees saw that humans were not afraid of them, they were angry, howling and howling, their ears were deafening. Waiting for the queen to give the order to attack.

8 The group of chimpanzees moved to both sides and a leader monkey appeared, twice as big as the other chimpanzees. The chimpanzee king was carrying a huge tiger in his arms, looking at humans with a curious look. often. The chimpanzee king howled like thunder, blew out a gust of wind that toppled a large tree, causing people to die in fear, then the chimpanzee king ordered the chimpanzees to kill him. Who knows that the planet lord sees humans remaining indifferent and is not afraid of the planet lord at all. The chimpanzee lord immediately became angry and immediately tore the tiger's body into many pieces. Thousands of chimpanzee monkeys saw that their lord was so mighty and quickly howled loudly, echoing through the mountains and forests. They looked at the humans as if saying please. lie down.

9 Talking about the chimpanzee lord, we see that not only are humans not afraid of them, but they also seem to want to fight them. The chimpanzee lord was extremely angry and immediately rushed forward with his claws, grabbed the human and tore him to pieces. The chimpanzees also wanted to rush in and tear the human to pieces, but because there was no order to attack from the chimpanzee lord, the chimpanzee monkeys just stand and watch their lord tear human flesh apart in just a moment before they die.

10 Suddenly there was a shout like thunder, a black man rushed out to block the monkey king's head, the chimpanzee king became even angrier, with a dangerous mallet that had killed many tigers. , the power poured out and hissed loudly, it was so terrifying, to the people of heaven, those powers could not do any harm. Not only was the black brother not afraid, he shouted loudly like thunder, as if telling that monkey king that I am the grandfather of your race, was once the lord of your race, do you see me? Kneel down and still be arrogant, I'll let you die. Immediately, the Black brother, as quick as lightning, launched a mysterious chimpanzee attack, only to hear the thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thump thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug thug the chimpanzee king was dizzy and staggered. I wanted to fall because I was hit right at a vital point. The chimpanzee lord's divine power immediately decreased by more than half. The chimpanzee lord was hit so painfully that he screamed loudly. He was hit in front of a group of chimpanzees. The chimpanzee lord felt humiliated. so I'm even more angry. Lord Chim Tinh with extremely mysterious martial arts jumps into the air and shoots down at a terrifying speed to instantly kill his opponent. The black brother saw that the monkey lord was so ferocious and wanted to defeat him right away with this move. Suddenly he was angry and shouted loudly, shaking the whole mountain and forest. Wild beasts, how dare you fight against humans? I'll let you die. With an earth-shattering bang, the monkey king Tinh Tinh was hit. He staggered and wanted to fall, the black brother was also hit by the group, he was quite hurt and even more angry. The black brother immediately took out the stick he was carrying on his back and rushed forward as fast as lightning, hitting the king monkey's head with great force. With all his strength, the chimpanzee king couldn't avoid it in time, only to hear a loud pop. The king monkey's head cracked and died, blood pouring out. Thousands of thousands of chimpanzees were so scared they were trembling, one of them fell down. land, while the vast majority fled in panic and terror. From then on, chimpanzees saw humans and stayed away, not daring to come closer.

11 In the struggle for survival, the 100 children of Au Co must defend themselves against invading enemies fighting for territory, against diseases, as well as natural disasters, droughts, storms, and floods. wading, cold, is a long, arduous, arduous and continuous struggle that always makes people miserable and afraid, so people always invent ideas, invent many things, fight back. , hide, control, escape.

12 God often teaches his 100 children. The natural universe is not only a huge, powerful monster, but it also contains many mysterious machines, so in the struggle for survival, all species of reptiles, birds, animals, space and time are defeated. difficult, because you are human, your body is a cosmic body, your brain is a cosmic brain, so all reptiles, birds, and beasts cannot resist you. who gets. There is only the NATURAL MONSTER OF THE UNIVERSE, WHICH IS A MONSTER, NOT ONLY INCREDIBLY BIG AND FULL OF POWER, BUT ALSO HIDDEN MANY MACHINERY, HIDDEN MANY MYTHS, very difficult to deal with. Therefore, the struggle for survival between humans and nature is the most difficult struggle. And conquering the cosmic monster is an extremely arduous struggle full of difficulties and hardships. There is no other way than to use the cosmic brain to develop consciousness and awareness. transform consciousness and awareness to the realm of Cosmic Science. Science of Perfect Enlightenment. In time, you will be able to master the cosmic monster, because you will understand them clearly, the laws of fluctuations according to the natural law of their evolution. As well as their birth, their destruction.

13 Therefore, you have nothing to fear from the natural monster of the universe. Instead, try to understand the natural monster. If you cannot subdue the natural monster, then follow it or avoid it. To preserve life, you want to master it, you must reach the realm of BUDDHA, SAINT, FAIRY, GOD, GOD, but right now you are just born, like a young child, how can you reach that level? realm of Buddha, Saint, Immortal, God, God, and after a long period of time cultivating and evolving Consciousness, you can become Buddha, Saint, Immortal, God, God.

14 Thanks to the struggle for survival of humans, they always invent ideas, invent many things to preserve life, preserve evolution and inheritance of human invention, so human wisdom also follows. It evolves more and more every day, from primitive objects to modern objects. From simple life to civilized life. Although initially people knew how to make leaf shirts, animal skins, grass shoes, animal skin shoes, and leaf nests, to preserve life in the face of evolutionary changes, cyclical weather changes, and changes in nature, but that was an evolution. Weather according to normal. But the weather has changed dramatically beyond human expectations and that has happened to the children of heaven. Perhaps the cyclical cycle of creation has been repeated for thousands of years, causing heavy rain and strong winds to last for many months, causing bitter cold to the skin, leaving leaf shirts and leaf nests no longer able to withstand it, so people have to change. living style, as well as living entered a new phase, the stage of finding caves to live in, so the struggle for survival between humans, reptiles, birds, and animals happened, extremely fierce.

15 And there, not more than a hundred miles away, there are high mountains that have formed many caves due to the earth's tremors. EARTHQUAKES radiate within the mountains. Millions and millions of years ago, underground water streams were flowing. The caves are formed by erosion, in the caves there is the MAN XA cave, pythons that live for a long time become stars, snakes that live for a long time become ghosts, this ghost cave has not had any birds or animals for thousands of years. No one dares to be bold enough to come. Once they come, they won't go. If they come in, they won't come out.

16 Python Cave is an extremely large cave that can accommodate thousands of people, so this place has tens of thousands of pythons and tens of thousands of snakes that they share to live in, especially the leaders, not only are they large and long. dozens of miles but still have many extremely powerful heads, especially their venom and poison. Just one python or three-headed snake can kill a huge elephant, and has knocked down many others. Such an elephant is eaten by the whole herd. The discovery of this python cave is that the yellow-skinned brother once wandered here and was almost murdered by them. In this period, the lifespan of insects, plants, reptiles, animals, as well as humans, is very long, not only very long, but also unusually large, their lifespan is more than ten thousand years. , if they know how to breathe and practice, they can live to be twenty or thirty thousand years old. It can be said that the pythons and leading snakes here have a lifespan of over twenty thousand years, so their divine power is extremely terrifying and extremely harmful.

17 Under the guidance of the yellow-skinned brother, one hundred heavenly brothers soon went to the mountains in the pouring rain and bone-chilling cold and finally reached the cave, looking for shelter. Living nearby, the yellow-skinned man who led the way said that we should not go near the cave because it was very dangerous, and moreover, because it was raining heavily and the wind was strong and it was too cold. So one hundred heavenly brothers stopped thinking about settling in the capital not far from Son Xa Dong, yet they could still smell the strong fishy smell of snakes spreading out. Fortunately, this place had a lot of fruit, thinking it was strange that after five or six years had passed. Months of storms and storms without any damage. Perhaps the fruit here is not from the trees but from the tangled ropes and vines of the forest. While picking fruit to eat, we discovered many types of snakes hidden in the bushes. They only need people to be careless and lose their vigilance for them to bite, which is why countless species of birds and animals have been bitten to death by them. One hundred children of heaven ate their fill, night had just fallen, perhaps Father Heaven and Earth Mother saw that their children were suffering too much, so the rainstorms gradually stopped, the sky gradually calmed down again. , so one hundred heavenly children went to sleep soundly. Just when they heard the rushing sound, it seemed like the storm was coming again, a hundred brothers and sisters woke up, only to realize that the sky was clear, suddenly they heard a strong fishy smell coming closer and closer. A hundred fellow brothers shouted loudly that they were approaching to be on guard and destroy them, and just like that they smelled a human scent even though they were three or four miles away from the mountain snake, the leaders of the group dominated them. were present, perhaps they were cultivating and had gems, so their two eyes radiated divine light, looking very ferocious and terrifying to see. They came in ever greater numbers, so numerous that they could no longer count, they looked at One hundred heavenly beings opened their mouths and stuck out their tongues, it seemed they were very hungry, wanting to devour humans, pythons, snakes, nine heads emitting strange sounds signaling to attack, so there were thousands of people. Tens of thousands of snakes and pythons curled up to attack. One hundred brothers shouted at the same time, we haven't attacked them yet, they have attacked us, so we all rushed forward to destroy them, and then the battle broke out, earth-shattering, a hundred logs in the hands of a hundred children jumped up into the air like pinwheel, force poured out loudly, the power of heaven had to fight harder and harder, the snakes were beaten to a pulp. The king snakes and king snakes, seeing their descendants being beaten by humans, became extremely angry and rushed into the fight. The yellow-skinned brother saw that the king snake was extremely powerful and spewed out poisonous gas. For some obscure brothers, especially the weaker women, the yellow-skinned brother is the HOANG LONG, the GOLDEN DRAGON of GOD reincarnated as a human. Hoang Long rushed forward to battle with the nine-headed snake star lord. The battle became extremely fierce. The nine-headed snake star lord flicked his tail and the wind roared up, the yellow-skinned brothers did not flinch at all. The stick in his hand attacked the nine-headed snake,The nine-headed python saw that spraying toxic gas could not harm its opponents, because it saw that its yellow-skinned brothers had a very strange layer of aura covering them, which was their innate protective aura, their toxic gas. It couldn't help but the battle became more and more intense.

18 Talking about the white brother who saw an extremely powerful nine-headed demon snake, his head spewed venom, his head blew a roaring wind that shook the sky and the earth, his head emitted sparks of fire that made the Da Cham brother pale. eyebrow toothpick. Immediately, the white brother was the WHITE DRAGON, the WHITE DRAGON, reincarnated as a human, and rushed to fight the NINE HEADED DEVIL SNAKE. The battle was extremely fierce, with the stick in the hand of the white brother attacking the nine-headed demon snake, loud cracking sounds were heard continuously, pythons and ferocious snakes all died. Over five thousand years old, some over ten thousand years old, some over twenty thousand years old, they attack humans with earth-shattering momentum, one class falls down, another class rushes forward. With the SEVEN-HEADED snake spirit, the brother of the nine-headed snake spirit, his aura was extremely ferocious, attacking people so fiercely that the weaker brothers were in danger. Immediately, the black brother shouted loudly. The sound like thunder was the BLACK DRAGON, the BLACK DRAGON, reincarnated as a human, rushing to fight the seven-headed serpent. With the stick in his black brother's hand, he attacked the seven-headed serpent's head like falling rain. storm. On the other side, the SEVEN-HEADED DEVIL SNAKE, seeing his brother, the nine-headed demonic snake, attacking the human with such majesty, immediately swung its tail, rose up and roared forward to devour the human. The indigo-skinned brother saw such a ferocious demon snake and immediately screamed like thunder that shook the earth and sky. This indigo-skinned brother was THANH LONG, the GREEN DRAGON reincarnated as a human, rushing to meet the snake's head. The demon, with the stick in his hand, danced with force, emitting buzzing rocks, flying sand, and attacked the snake demon's head, making the battle even more fierce. On the other side of the battle, dozens of brothers were weak under the attack of two five-headed demons whose attacks were extremely coordinated with each other. If it weren't for my innate protection, I would have died a long time ago when I suddenly heard a scream like thunder, a person jumped out, waving a stick and loudly attacking two ghosts, then that person was the Indian brother, XICH The RED DRAGON was reincarnated as a human. The two demons seemed to have encountered an opponent, so they tried to attack their Indian brothers even more fiercely. I only heard the loud rumble that shook the sky and the earth, and suddenly heard the shrill screams that arose everywhere, this dead goblin made loud noises resound everywhere, what a majestic and heroic female hero. So those are five girls with yellow skin, white skin, indigo skin, black skin, red skin, those are the YEARS OF THE LORD'S PHENOMEN reincarnated as humans with five sticks in their hands, jumping up and down, beating the pythons and dragons. The two-headed three-headed snake was beaten to pieces, while the other brothers shouted and competed to destroy the snake spirits and demon snakes.

On the path of conquering all living things of one hundred sons of heaven. It is the power of human wisdom that creates that miracle. The power of intellectual connection always wins against the forces against humans, the forces of Beasts, the forces of Evil, the Demons, and even defeats nature, the great Cosmic Monster, and proceeds to master the universe. pillar.

End of part 2, chapter 3

Please continue reading part 3, chapter 3

Long Hoa Thien Tang.

Chapter 3

Part 3

INTELLECTUAL POWER, UNITY POWER

1 Looking at the war between humans and Goblins, we can see the solidarity of our compatriots, the five skin colors of brothers always stand together, protecting each other, the strong bear the burden, the weak bear the light, together. join together to destroy the enemy.

True that:

A Dragon and Fairy tree, so unusual

Compatriots are blood relatives, roots of love

Stand together, except Stars and Demons

Protect each other, live and die

Heroic spirit, Hong Lac lineage

Resist brutality, use example

Humanity is a brotherhood, love of the same kind

The group was all together, teaching the battlefield.

Speaking of pythons, the more the snakes fought, the more they lost power, so they simultaneously transformed into magical gems to destroy humans. Immediately in the air, thousands of gems radiating light simultaneously struck down, causing a hundred brothers to defend. I was about to die in this moment of death, suddenly I heard five screams as if the sky and earth were about to collapse, followed by five sharp, ear-splitting screams. appearing flying in the air, a dazzling halo of light swallowed up the pearls, causing snakes and snakes to run away in terror and return to the cave, not daring to show their heads again. They had lost their pearls and became pythons, snakes, and common snakes. The five dragons, five phoenixes, flying in the air with a dazzling light like thunder and thunder, saw the snake, snake, and demon running away and immediately regained their souls and returned to their bodies. It turned out that those were the five brothers Thanh Long, Bach Long, Xich Long, and Black. Long, Hoang Long, five sisters Thanh Phung, Bach Phung, Xich Phung, Hac Phung, Hoang Phung, the battlefield has now become quiet again, strewn here and there with the corpses of pythons and snakes, they have been destroyed. Destroying more than two-thirds, taking advantage of the victory, they rushed forward with a hundred of them, but they were not willing to leave them alone and immediately flocked to surround the cave, the snakes, the snakes, and snakes. Seeing humans coming, they were extremely scared and cowered inside. The movement refused to come out. While a hundred animals did not know how to destroy the pythons and snakes, cowering in the cave, the yellow-skinned brother, Hoang Long, said that the strength of humans is the strength of intelligence, brothers. They did not discuss and unite their wisdom to find a plan to destroy them, so one hundred sons of heaven each came up with an opinion, whichever idea was good, they followed that opinion and finally found a good idea. , was to use the power of stones into their hands and throw them to attack and destroy them, so one hundred brothers immediately followed the plan of gathering stones and piling them in front of the cave, waiting for the signal to attack. There was no more waiting for the signal. The command rang out. Immediately, hundreds of powerful arms threw rocks, cut through the wind, rushed into the cave, knocked down the pythons and snakes, they were hit so painfully, they quickly followed another ventilation path to escape into the deep forest and the cave was lost. form, people easily took over the cave.

2 Thanks to the cave so that brothers and children are no longer miserable due to heavy rains and storms, but also have a place to store food, human life thus becomes more and more closely connected, richer in emotions, women Therefore, there is no need to look for food anymore, but just hang out near the cave in the cave. Life went on like that for hundreds of springs, the children lived happily, nothing happened, the hot summer was about to end, winter came again, the cold, heavy rain, and strong winds returned. , so the boys are often absent from the cave, as are the fifty pretty girls in animal skins. The more beautiful they look, not only are they beautiful, but the older they get, the more they look like the mother of heaven. The beautiful girls have just come out of the cave and are scattered around looking for fruit and having fun to their heart's content, just like each other. Suddenly, I heard the roar of a lion shaking the mountains and forests. In just a few moments, dozens of lions appeared, each one extremely large and ferocious. They saw strange girls, as they saw them. seeing strange creatures appearing on earth, they are the lords of the species, no species sees them without fear, the leader of the lions looks at the humans with anger, because the lions see the girls and are not afraid of them. , look like they're not going anywhere, the lion group on a long journey cried out because they were hungry, the other dozens of lions were in the same mood as the lion king of the group, they wanted to rush in and pounce immediately to eat meat. , but the opportunity did not yet allow them to pounce, because they saw that humans were not afraid of them in the silence of their eyes staring at them, the girls' gaze at the lions saved them from death, the girls Did you know that if they all attacked at the same time, it would be difficult to preserve your life? The danger is hanging by a thread. The girls by now have probably seen this danger, fifty girls don't know how to deal with it. During Hoang Phung's time, the yellow-skinned girl told her sisters that they should pull out their sticks from behind their backs and face them, retreating back and forth to the cave in case they attacked, the lions were just waiting for her. If people turn away or run away, they will rush to tear them apart and eat them immediately. The girls retreated step by step, while the piano teacher advanced step by step, it was a situation full of suspense and tension, every second and every minute was extremely dangerous. The girls had all retreated into the cave, regaining their momentum and swinging their sticks majestically to scare the lions. The king lion did not pay any attention to the girls' threats but instead stared at the cave and roared with delight. resounding in the mountains and forests, those dozens of lions were also roaring with excitement, they seemed to say that they had found a place to live through the winter and those dozens of girls were their food, they did not go away. Where else but lying here blocking the cave entrance and waiting for an opportunity to rush in and eat humans.

3 Talking about the fifty young men who are now unusually old, although they have gone quite far in search of food, they can still clearly hear the roar of lions coming from the cave. They are startled and do not understand what happened. It happened that the girls were probably in danger of losing their lives, so they all turned around and saw a group of lions blocking the cave door as if they wanted to rush in and kill the girls. The boys were scared but didn't know. Are you okay? I'm angry because they slaughtered people. Fortunately, the piles of rocks weren't completely thrown away hundreds of years ago.

4 A tribe of lions were licking their lips and salivating, looking greedily at the cave, when they heard a sound of wind blowing and they were hit repeatedly on the head with large stones, hitting their heads and hitting their legs, causing them to become lame. Legs, rocks, stones, thrown at a terrible speed with amazing force. If they hit them, they will not die but will still be injured. They are hit with pain and fear, some of them have died, they rush out of the cave. Jump to attack the human, immediately a scream will rise like thunder, launch a javelin at the huge Queen, immediately a series of screams will rise, fifty casuarinas will tear through the wind, aiming at the leader of the herd, rushing at high speed. terrifying degree. Then the king lion howled pitifully, a series of casuarinas randomly stabbed him into the king lion's head. Their lord's pitiful howl frightened the lions. Perhaps they were out of time, so They had just met humans, who were the masters of all living things, their deaths would be inevitable, how could they run away from the casuarinas that became evil spirits flying to take their lives, and then a dozen lions died. Death continued to fall, the survivors fled for their lives, half-dead, and from then on, when they saw humans, they immediately hid and did not dare to come closer.

5 Faced with man's cunning, the lords of the forest, tigers, elephants, and lions, hid in fear and did not dare to come near. When they saw a man holding a spear, they were frightened and fled, and thus the hundred children were born. heaven experiences lasting peace.

6 Until one day the black brothers were gathering fruits and vegetables, when a huge eagle, whose wings were dozens of meters long, could catch a huge bull and fly away to eat it. , The Eagle was flying high in the air, quickly folded its wings and rushed down, catching the black brother, but thanks to the black brother, he discovered the Eagle early. So as soon as he saw the Eagle fold his wings, he quickly rushed into the canopy of the tree to hide. The Eagle told people not to get angry. He fanned his wings, causing the tree branch to break with a loud noise. Ten black brothers fought back and dodged to escape death. immediately told the dangerous story of the Eagle's murder to all the brothers. After hearing it, everyone became angry and immediately discussed a plan to destroy this evil and cruel Eagle.

7 So the brothers of heaven searched for pigs, tied two or three pigs to a place where the Evil Eagle often hunted, to lure the eagles, with the ferocious nature of the Evil Eagle when he saw his prey. is to rush down to catch and eat meat. With skillful camouflage, the evil eagle cannot recognize humans present at the scene. Close to the three pigs, a pair of Evil Eagle flying high above sees three pigs. While running awkwardly on the ground, he folded his wings and rushed down to catch the two biggest pigs. Evil Eagle caught the pig, flapped its wings and flew up for only a few minutes before it could no longer fly because it got stuck in the rope that tied the pig. The pair of Evil Eagle Eagles didn't know what to do. Suddenly, a series of casuarinas shot out from the nearby groves of trees with incredible speed, rushing straight towards the two evil birds. Because they were so surprised, they were dragging them. Holding the pig right in the shooter's range, the evil eagle was immediately hit by more than a dozen casuarina arrows and screamed miserably. Although the female escaped death, she was injured and lost her soul, so the eagle Evil birds later see humans and stay away in fear.

8 This is about the three Lords who are always thinking of ways to harm people. One day, the three demon lords heard all kinds of reptiles, birds, and beasts talking to each other. If they encounter humans, stay away or they will all die. All the reptiles, birds, and beasts talked while trembling in fear. The three Star Demons heard all creatures praising the power of humans and became very angry, but they could do nothing because they were afraid of God the Father, the Mother Earth, and afraid of human light.

9 One day, three Demon Lords traveling around accidentally saw that humans no longer had halos, nor did they see their father, heaven and earth. They were happy, but because of their suspicions, they did not immediately kill humans. And since then, they have always been watching and lurking and they know for sure that Father Heaven and Earth Mother is no longer there, so they are determined to harm humans.

10 One day they gathered all kinds of birds, animals, reptiles, tigers, leopards, lions, eagles, foxes, wolves, pythons, snakes, three Demon Demons said that you have been harmed by humans, today I Gathering you here is to fight against humans, humans, if humans live then we must die, there is no other way, we must destroy humans.

11 Having finished speaking, the three demons transformed into majestic spirits, transformed into winds and rains, bone-chilling cold, dark clouds, the bright sky suddenly turned dark, rocks flew and sand flew, trees fell with a loud noise, causing an earthquake. An area of ​​Reptiles, Birds, and Mammals, so terrifyingly obedient.

12 At this time, the yellow leaves of the mountains and forests are ripening, the sun has just gone to sleep, night falls quite quickly, the moon and stars compete to shine, contributing to human life and the evolution of the universe.

13 Suddenly the sky and earth became gloomy, the moon and stars disappeared, replaced by a buzzing wind that became more and more intense, the cold air became more and more penetrating to the bones, there was no such thing in the autumn sky, more strange than the darkness. The monster continued to rush into the cave, carrying poisonous gas that made a group of people of heaven become more and more unable to resist, the cold air became more and more cold to the bone, a hundred people of heaven could not understand heaven and earth. What kind of rage was there that was screaming so fiercely? Suddenly I heard a strange noise outside the cave. It seemed like they were trying their best to spray toxic gas into the cave, could it be? Hundreds of eyes looked at each other, even in the dark night they could feel the thoughts passing through their eyes, sympathizing that perhaps they were coming to take revenge on us, and everyone thought that this was another war. It happened, the more the five colored brothers thought about it, the angrier they became, the angrier they became for the creatures that came here to cause trouble, and this time they were wiped out so they wouldn't be able to survive. Immediately, the women kept moving, and the men rushed forward. went out to destroy the ferocious beasts that were breathing magic to blow poisonous gas into the cave, so fifty young men heroically rushed out the cave entrance with sticks in their hands, waving wildly to attack the enemy. With human eyes, it is impossible to see in such a dark night, but with human eyes, it is different. You can see in the night. Although your vision is not far, you can still recognize those who come here. When they started a war, they saw reptiles, birds, and beasts surrounding the cave. Suddenly, their anger rushed out and they fought fiercely. The fighting between humans and reptiles, birds, and beasts was extremely fierce.

14 With the strength of the son of heaven, the more fiercely he fought, the more he fought, the more powerful he became. With the tree in his hand, blows like lightning, like thunder, thunderous green thunder were continuously pouring out, even though poisonous gas filled the sky and earth. , but it could not harm the son of heaven, because the son of heaven had an innate aura to protect him. The sound of loud pops and tires was very loud, and those who came to wage war were beaten to death and injured countless times.

15 The three Goblin Demon Lords saw that the situation was not going well and immediately cast a spell. The wood incense crystal immediately blew out a stream of bewitching scent, making people darken their faces and no longer be able to see anything.

16 The fish star also instantly transformed into rain and storms, storms and storms, storms and storms rose up with a loud noise, trees fell loudly, stones flew and sand flew, hurricanes whirled around like a tornado, absorbing soil and rocks, trees fell and trees flew up. the sky and then struck down fifty sons of heaven. Anyone who saw it would be terrified, fifty children of heaven had been harmed by the poisonous fragrance. Now, the storm brought earth, rocks, and trees from the sky and was swept down by the storm. I could only hear the rumble of the sky and earth, making it difficult to withstand.

17 And yet, the Ho Tinh Devil could not bear to be inferior and immediately transformed into countless countless huge and sharp fangs and claws of foxes and ferrets from the sky, capturing the terrifying and terrifying ghosts and demons, and so on for many years. Twenty boys, Ho Tinh Quy looked into the cave and saw fifty girls, the green spring was slightly full of vitality, Ho Tinh Quy smiled happily, it is true that heaven's treasure will be my toy, dad The Demon Lord looked up at the sky sadly and complacently, they howled deafeningly, I will be the Lord of the universe.

18 Fifty girls heard the proud screams of the three Demon Lord Goblins and immediately clasped their hands and prayed to GOD MOTHER AU Co to save us, Mother Au Co save us, save us, we are about to be attacked by Goblins. The Demon Lord is killing everyone. Fifty girls immediately responded to the cry for help.

19 Talk about fifty sons who tried their best to resist until their strength was exhausted and their lives were lost, while life was at stake, thousands of pounds were hanging by a thread.

20 Suddenly there was thunder and lightning in the sky, the lightning struck the three Demon Lords, electric fire flashed across the sky, the three Demon Lords who were casting spells were struck by lightning and suffered excruciating pain. The liver collapsed and fell to the ground, their discipline was shattered by the thunder and lightning, they tried to crawl and crawl, but they finally got up and ran away, so scared that they fainted several times, from then on. They don't dare to harm the children of heaven anymore.

On the path to discovering the secrets of humanity. The struggle to preserve the human race. Just like conquering the difficulties in front of you to master everything. Mastering all species and all things, mastering the Universe. Even higher is mastering life and death.

End of part 3, chapter 3

Please continue reading part 4, chapter 3

Long Hoa Thien Tang.

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Chapter 3

Part 4

THE UNITY OF THE PREHISTORIC PEOPLE ALWAYS BENEFITS GREAT SUCCESS, THE POWER OF COLLECTIVE UNIVERSITY IS ALWAYS THE DREAM TOPIC OF ALL TIMES

1 Talking about the AU CO MODEL, although leaving the children, returning to integrate the Source like Water Bubbles, integrating into the essence of Water. It means that Father Heaven and Mother Heaven were born from the spiritual essence of the supreme ancestors of the universe, then disappeared and merged into the unconditioned essence everywhere in the universe. All life in the universe is in this supreme essence, it can be said that the lives of all species, including human life, all live in the heart of Mother Earth Au Co. Therefore, 100 children of Mother Earth Au Co. Earth Mother Au Co always cares for her child, because the earth mother's supreme, unconditioned spiritual body is present everywhere. If it weren't for the eyes of Perfect Enlightenment, it wouldn't be possible to perceive it.

2 In fact, Earth Mother Au Co is always by her children's side, but 100 children do not see Earth Mother Au Co. Even though Earth Mother Au Co saw her child in trouble, she did not rescue him. Waiting for his children to still remember their mother, seeing fifty girls remembering him, immediately the dharma body of Earth Mother Au Co turned into thunder and struck the three demon lords, but did not kill them. There is a secret reason for Mother Au Co that no one can know. Talking about the fifty sons of God who only worried about fighting and forgot to ask GOD for help and were only waiting for death, in the midst of death and rebirth, hanging on by a thread like that, suddenly heard Thunder filled the sky and struck the ground endlessly. Immediately, the demonic energy disappeared, the cold air, the demon's claws were no longer there, the sky was clear, the moon and stars returned to compete to shine, fifty boys were restored to life. force to attack and kill all kinds of evil birds, beasts, and reptiles. How could they resist the Son of God, they were beaten to a pulp by fifty men of Heaven, the dead and the wounded ran away, terrified and terrified. From then on, humans were the masters of all living things. Wherever animals and people go, all living things must bow their heads there, or stay away and not dare to approach.

3 The solidarity of living together with 100 brothers, the first ancestors of mankind, have achieved many great successes, not only scientific successes in inventing innovations, creating many products Novelties serve to enrich human life more and more, as well as success in terms of consciousness, awareness of social community, personality, ethics, virtue, and good qualities in dealing with people. Humanity, therefore reason as well as humanity, is built on the foundation of enlightenment, the bad always eliminates the good and becomes more and more beautiful, the power of solidarity is the invincible power. , not only promoting the power of intelligence, but also promoting the power of the collective, overcoming countless difficulties, progressing to master each and every one. A life between people who are both brothers, compatriots, comrades, teachers for each other, military officers, militiamen, like-minded people, with the same opinion, and striving to rise together. , moving towards mastering society, mastering destiny, mastering life, mastering the universe.

4 The life of the ancestors of the prehistoric people and the Immortals is a life of constant evolution. Outdated, degenerative and old things that become harmful to life must be eliminated and replaced with youthfulness and progress. The new one is better. This constant evolution is not only in the field of life, the field of social community, the field of science, but also in the spiritual field, old-fashioned things are no longer suitable for life in the era of elimination. . Especially behavior that goes against God's teachings. In the first prehistoric period of humanity, although humans had not yet invented pen and paper, a hundred sons of heaven knew how to use their will as pen, their consciousness as ink, and their BRAIN as paper. What is learned, heard, seen, known, the cognitive consciousness absorbs impacts the human brain and is imprinted, then from the human brain impacts the cognitive consciousness, making People remember forever and never forget, leading to the result of consciousness and awareness going deep into finding the potential soul consciousness hidden in the eighth sense, the unconscious sense of ignorance, which becomes the result of karma whether it is good karma or not. evil karma.

5 Although in prehistoric times, our ancestors did not have paper and pen to copy and write notes, but the copying and printing of our prehistoric ancestors was extremely wonderful, inconceivable, full of science and full of modern machinery. , the following passages will say that.

The human brain is a small cosmic brain, able to retain everything in the past, when the past impacts on the brain, and also retains everything that the present consciousness impacts on. Press on the skull. But people today not only rarely practice meditation to train energy and maintain the brain, but also abuse many strong stimulants such as BEER and ALCOHOL that damage the brain, not only destroying the wonderful part of the brain, but also causing harm to the brain. The brain is cloudy, just like a piece of pure white paper has become stained, printed news and records will no longer be clear, not to mention that people today have too many desires, especially crazy desires. Crazy evil energy rushes up to harm the subtleties of the brain. BUDDHA, SAINTS, FAIRIES, SPIRITS, GODS are people who clearly understand this, so they always restrain their desires, especially crazy desires, as well as limit yourself to BEER and WINE, LIKE BUDDHA, give up alcohol completely.

End of part 4, chapter 3

Please continue reading part 5, chapter 3

Long Hoa Thien Tang.

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Chapter 3

Part 5

HUMAN GROWTH IS DUE TO THE LINKING OF EACH PERSON'S MEMORY. THE TEACHINGS OF GOD TEN THOUSAND YEARS AGO ARE RECREATED WITHOUT A SINGLE TEACHING OF GOD, BECOME THE FIRST TEXTUAL CULTURE OF THE HUMAN HUMANITY

1 Talking about 100 children of God living together in solidarity from the time they were born until now they are ten thousand years old. Sometimes when they are hungry, they eat grass, trees, tubers, flowers, and fruits, and sometimes they drink underground water in caves and water. River, stream water, after a long period of consciousness and awareness evolution, humans have now truly entered the stage of adulthood, the stage where a girl has had her period and has entered the stage of Divine Function as Father and Mother. , Father and Mother, father and mother, transmit the human race. It can be said that humans have entered the stage of true self-control. The stage of moving towards being independent and standing firmly on one's own two feet, the stage of deciding one's own destiny.

2 The human body is a small universe, so humans are higher-level animals, more mystical than all things, and are children of God the Father and Mother God, composed of two crystals, prenatal and postnatal. . The prenatal is the blood of the heavenly parents, the postnatal is the quintessence of the earth's gas, so humans are more spiritual than all living things, hiding up to eight senses, enough conditions for humans to develop consciousness. quick perception.

3 Furthermore, the human spine is shaped like the letter S of Dragon bone, the human body has all 32 good features and 80 Cot Tien beauty, making humans stand upright, different from reptiles, birds, animals, with straight spine, two legs, four legs of the goose's body. One hundred brothers and sisters of God enter the stage of maturity and meet the conditions to move to a new stage, the stage of building a career for themselves.

4 One day, a hundred people of heaven, five different skin colors, were looking at the scenery of heaven, earth, mountains, forests, trees, and flowers blooming in spring. Hoang Long seemed to suddenly think of something extremely important: All species and all things need to have names and ages, in order to recognize them without having to see them. Just as writing nourishes the human soul. Just as Thien Will has taught, material nourishes the body, while Culture nourishes the soul. In order for all things to be orderly, as well as for human life to be orderly, it is necessary to mark and name things.

* Is a marker for naming five groups of five different skin colors.

* We are one hundred brothers and sisters who remember what Heavenly Father and Heavenly Mother taught and said to record in each person's Consciousness, into written words in each person's Consciousness. Studying together, knowing together, following together, one hundred children of God, both men and women, competed to rack their brains and try to remember what their father, mother, and father taught them more than ten thousand years ago. From the time we were born until now, everyone has always lived according to their parents' teachings, remember a lot and follow a lot, remember a little and follow a little, everyone knows what to do, no one tells or teaches anyone else. Make your own without spreading it out for all brothers to listen to, learn together, discuss and follow the teachings of Mom and Dad. HOANG LONG's initiative marked the historical period when Coi Nguon Culture was born. Culture Heaven's Will. Culture Social Life. Culture of Human Behavior. Human Rights Culture. The right to master people. Evolving human consciousness to a new level, according to the initiative of HOANG LONG. Day after day for several years, those who remembered a lot said a lot, those who remembered a little said a little, hundreds of people compiled it into scriptures, the first culture of humankind, the true culture of the original teachings of God. GOD'S LONG FLOWER GOD, as well as AU CO'S EARTH MOTHER.

5 Since the birth of Coi Nguon Culture and Texts, not only has human life evolved rapidly to a higher level with rules and regulations, but also the rituals of worshiping ANCESTORS and PARENTS were born. Humanity was born, life and evolution changed rapidly, there was loyalty, there was filial piety, there was kindness, there was water, there was commonality. Having manners, wisdom, and faith, the souls of lords, reptiles, birds, and beasts, reincarnated as humans, have evolved to the stage of becoming human souls, no longer the souls of reptiles and birds. , animals also have religion, have virtue, have law, have culture.

6 From now on, one hundred brothers lived together in a completely different way of life, one that was ethical, cultured, and had an unusual hierarchy. Culture of life sciences, culture of belief and worship, culture of social community, culture of behavior, culture of law, social order and order of life, art culture of singing and dancing, culture of class hierarchy, culture of penance and improvement, culture of preserving scientific inventions, in general, there are many cultures that cannot be mentioned here. That's why life has such culture, so the evolution of cognitive consciousness is very fast, from everyday awareness, evolving to moral awareness, cultural awareness, from everyday life. Often evolving to a moral and cultured life, people also demand a higher life than family status and social status. Find a suitable way of life for yourself, everything must come at its own time, that is the separation of the five skin colors of Brothers.

On the path to discovering the secret of Origin. Universalism is supreme in the universe. When you see this, it must be said that your wisdom and merit must be said to have advanced to the status of Buddha, Saint, Immortal, God, and God. Realize things you never thought of before. The seeds of Mahayana Sutra Culture have grown in your consciousness. Cultural Seeds of Enlightenment and Enlightenment. You will never fall to the Underworld again. You will be reborn in the upper world if you know how to make merit in the Origin Culture. AU CO's mother includes the essence of the five elements, that is, the quintessence of the five elements, including gathering a hundred qi to form a hundred egg sacs, in one AU CO sac. The five skin colors correspond to the five elements: METAL, WOOD, WATER, FIRE, and EARTH. Not only does it apply to the five elements of metal, wood, water, fire, and earth, but it also applies to the five directions, WEST, EAST, SOUTH, NORTH, CENTRAL, MIDDLE. Therefore, brothers with BLACK skin and WHITE skin belong to the METAL element and WATER element, with the main energy in the WEST and NORTH, responding to the agreement with deep moisture, responding to demands for high mounds and dry plains. Brothers with indigo skin belong to the wood element, their main energy is in the orient, responding to the mountains, hills and forests. The Indians belong to the element of FIRE, which is the main energy in the SOUTH, suitable for hot climates such as deserts and grasslands. YELLOW skinned brothers belong to the EARTH element, the main energy in the center can be anywhere, but the most suitable place is in the EAST. No one can resist the Creator's arrangement, when humans have not mastered the Creator, so the hundred heavenly beings must follow the mysterious arrangements of the universe. Until humans, turning cold into hot, turning hot into cold, turning dry into dry, turning dry into dry, turning high into deep, turning deep into high, people use vehicles to fly, then the YEAR OF BRITISH SKIN COLOR will come. I WILL REUNION AGAIN, But humans have not been able to do that, in the time when the universal world was not yet born, brothers of five skin colors could not yet come together and reunite.

End of part 5, chapter 3

Please continue reading part 1, chapter 4

Long Hoa Thien Tang.

[radioladioxfm]

Album Review: Rat Saw God by Wednesday

Release date: April 7, 2023 Genre: Indie rock, Shoegaze, Alternative country, Grunge Runtime: 37:03 'Rat Saw God' rotates through upbeat, sentimental, nostalgic, and furious moods and doesn't let up. If you like Midwest emo, guitar that's one part 90s grunge and one part 70s country, and tales of ODing in parking lots and getting high on Benedryl, go listen now! Rat Saw God is my favorite album of 2023.

About the band

I am glad that Wednesday, a band that hails from the mountains of Asheville, NC, chose to tour mainly in the South. They even kicked off their tour in my home town. Growing up in the South it can be hard to find cool, new bands playing live near you. But recently, I got the fuck out of the South and the only Wednesday show I could attend was in New York City. It sold out long before I knew about it. Bummer.

I got into Wednesday for their single, Feast of Snakes (2022) and later Handsome Man, a song off of their album, Twin Plagues (2021). I was instantly drawn to the angst in lead singer, Karly Hartzman's voice. The way it rises and falls on sustained notes. I've always been a sucker for a unique singing voice. The twangy banjo, grunge distortion, and vivid imagery of their lyrics were irresistible to me.

I've borrowed this review format from Tiktok user, DailyAlbumGuy. He's cool, you should follow him. Without further ado, here's the review.

Standout ⭐ Bull Believer

When I sat down for a first listen, Bull Believer grabbed me by the horns--pun intended. I didn't expect the meandering pace of this 8-minute song to give way to one of the rawest female vocal performances with a reference to Mortal Kombat. This song has earned its place on every "GIRLS SCREAMING" playlist. The buildup to that 6th minute breakdown is *chef's kiss* What a surreal choice to make it the second song on the album. I would've put it later, but hey it got my attention so maybe that means I'm wrong.

After that amazing concert-finale-type song, it picks back up not giving you not a second to recover. The best type of Wednesday song is one where the lyrics sound like a personal story remembered, written down in a journal, and still sitting at the back of your mind. Waiting there for an intimate gathering between friends for a chance to be retold. Rat Saw God is full of those songs.

Catchiest 🦗 Chosen to Deserve

I particularly love the country sound of Chosen to Deserve. To be clear, I don't mean country country. I mean the romantic version of country I have in my head where it's a little raccoon and possum in cowboy outfits sitting around a campfire. Folk country. It's so sweet and dreamy. It's a vulnerable love song. Have you ever felt that you have so many skeletons in your closet that any lover who will have you needs to read your warning label first? "I'm the girl that you have chosen to deserve"

Standout 🔈 Quarry

Quarry makes me picture the faces of folks in my dad's neighborhood in western Massachusetts. The friendships I fostered with kids there every summer break growing up. Running around, overhearing neighborhood gossip. The stories Wednesday songs tells are very rural suburban-core. Setting the scene in towns like Sevierville AKA home of Miss Dolly Parton herself. I really empathize with their desire to talk about the places they grew up with frankness and fondness, even when it's not so glamorous.

"With any writing, I just think I’m impressed with people that are able to describe their own life in a way that captures how original everyone’s life is. It’s harder than you would think to find the things that make you and your life what it is." - Karly Hartzman (source)

My favorite 💜 Bath County

This song is the real reason why I want to talk about this album. It topped my Spotify Wrapped. I listened to this song every time I had a bad day in 2023... which was a lot. This song carried me through it.  I would blast this song in my car to sing along, emphasizing the words bad luck in "Every daughter of god, has a little bad luck sometimes." It's so Midwest emo. I could quote so many lyrics that I love. From the "Sippin' piss colored, bright yellow Fanta" to the "Be my baby 'til my body's in the ground". Guitarist Jake Lenderman (same guy from MJ Lenderman), absolutely shreds too. I adore this song. Bonus points for the not-so-subtle Christian imagery at the start of the song. As a former Catholic, I love a little blasphemy.