#shadow writes stuff

[hazbincalifornia]

27

"Still dealing with the bitch's stuff, huh?" Blitz leaned against the doorframe as Stolas ran a hand through his feathers, twirling a necklace around his finger.

"Yes, well, her and Andrealphus left their things scattered all over the palace, and I haven't been able to- where did you get that?"

"This?" Blitz let the necklace fall before curling his fist around the top, exposing a sapphire gem cut into a snowflake on the middle of a string of pearls. "It was kicked under one of the tables, but the light coming in hit it. I'm guessing it was Frosty's."

"Mmhm, he was wearing it when Stella and I were wed. I believe it's some sort of family heirloom, it must have been dropped when they left in a rush."

Blitz looked down at the necklace, then up at Stolas, a toothy grin spreading across his face. "Want me to fuck you while you're wearing it?"

Stolas's eyes widened. He thought for a moment, then grabbed Blitz by the collar and yanked him into the room before slamming the door.

[shadowofthelamp]

Creation

Summary: Bill decides he wants a kid with Ford, and when someone's given themselves to you entirely, you can do a lot with that.

Beatrice creation story! Rated T basically for a cut to black at the end/a brief non-descriptive use of magic making him feel good, but nothing explicit is shown and the kid is created by magic. Set in the 'muse' era shortly before everything spirals.

Warning: Mpreg

Wordcount: 1200

“So, smart guy!” Bill had been grinning. It was in the way the corners of his eyes pinched up, how his pulsing glow on each word was brighter. “You want to help me with something, don’t you?”

“Of course!” Ford floated easily towards him, gravity a mere suggestion that could be brushed aside here in the place where dreams become reality and reality twisted to the wildest fancies of the imagination. "Why wouldn't I? It has to be more interesting than watching the gnomes trying to capture bath squirrels again. The forest is starting to really settle down for winter."

“See, this is why I like you, Fordsie, always asking just the right questions!” Bill lightly tapped a finger on Ford’s nose, and a rush of lava spiraled down his nerves at the touch. “Now, you promised your body to me, and I’ve been using it plenty well- keeping you up and running past those silly human limits so we can get the really important work done, fixing the little stresses here and there, things like that. There’s something I’ve been wanting for eons, but no one else was good enough- not until you.”

“Bill, I-” Even without the limitations of the human body present in the projection, instinctively Ford found himself swallowing at the compliment. “Thank you. I’ll do my best to live up to whatever it is. So! What do you need? Does it have anything to do with the portal?”

“You’re the human vessel to help carry my- our genius to the masses, you already knew that, but I’ve got even bigger plans for this hunk of rock.” Bill snapped his fingers with another ‘smile’ (perhaps sharper than usual, eye a bit more narrowed?) and a deal-flame burned bright blue-

-Before he plunged it directly into Ford’s stomach.

The red-hot pain that ignited every soft organ below the lungs was almost enough to throw Ford back into the waking world, but Bill’s fingers merely curled inside of him as he whistled, rummaging around until a new pain of something swelling, growing, mixed with a wave of pleasure to counter the agony currently cauterizing his organs. Wave after wave of mixed sensations radiated out from the intrusion as a noise even he couldn't define slipped from his lips, and he clawed at the air with moans muffled into the infinity of the Mindscape.

“There we go, figured I might as well toss you a bone for dealing with this! Woo, this is going to be a lot to handle for an oily sweat beast meat-sack like you, but you’re a good human, you’ll manage.”

“Wh- what is?” Ford managed to stutter as Bill pulled his hand out, thick red with sparks of starlight dripping from the sleek black fingers all the way up to the elbow. Nothing existed in his mind but questions, even as the pain sucked into itself like a black hole and disappeared. “What did you do to- what did you put in there?”

“Why, our child, of course!”

There was a moment’s silence as Ford processed that before an actual record scratch sounded somewhere in the Mindscape, which just made Bill slap his knee and cackle.

“Oh, oh that is perfect timing. Your brain is a riot, Sixer, you know that?”

“Our child…?” Ford’s eyes had widened to the point that the lids had nearly receded into the skull, and one hand instinctively dropped to the still-oozing stomach, droplets of flickering silver mixing with deep maroon. “That can’t be-”

“Exactamundo, our child! Offspring, half-clone, spawn, whatever you want to call it!” Bill summoned his cane specifically to spin it and jab the end into Ford’s chest. “I’ve told you my whole tragic backstory-” (Ford’s eyes instinctively darted up to the hat and he felt a pang unrelated to the whole hand-shoving-through-guts thing) “-But I figured it was time to move on fully, starting a family of my own. And you’re the lucky candidate that I’d like to spend the rest of your life with! You’re smart, you’re a freak, you’ve already given me complete control over your body, and I wouldn’t mind a little rugrat running around with your cute little face on the part of the time they don’t look like me!”

“The part of the-” Ford shook his head to himself. That was not the thing to focus on, and his fingers curled around the stomach of his sweater tight enough that the threads unwound in the non-air. “Bill, I don’t have the- the- equipment for this!”

“And I’m a triangle, but do you really think I can’t make a few adjustments on that little problem? You wound me! Seahorses do it, it’s just a design flaw that humans can’t, really!” Bill rested his palm atop Ford’s knuckles. “I just needed to scoop out a little extra space- you don’t need all of those organs, so I just combined a few. They should work just as well!” He waved his free hand. “Besides, you said you wanted to do something for me. I’ve barely asked you for anything, and this is an honor!”

“Bill, I-” Ford’s free hand raised to tangle in his hair as the dream deity pressed up against his middle as if listening for a heartbeat already. “It’s not that I’m not flattered-”

“Then what is it, brainiac?” Bill tilted upward. “We’re already changing the world, and you’ve already pledged your life to me. We can be happy together. What’s one more string sewing us together? I picked you for a reason.”

He floated up, gripping a cheek in each hand as his single eye met both of Ford’s, sticky silver and ruby blood mixing together and oozing down the skin. “I already told you, I can’t imagine anyone else I’d want to do this with, and isn’t this what humans are meant to do, squirt out squirmy little genetic reproductions of themselves? Let’s face it, you’re never going to meet a girl, and this way you’ll change the world with the portal and by carrying the first new member of my species in a trillion years!”

His thumb stroked the skin as he tilted slightly, as if turning his head. “You’re the only one I’d want this with. Don’t you trust me, Fordsy?”

It may have been the leftover heat of the deal-fire from whatever Bill had done before, but Ford found his cheeks burning as his mouth fell open slightly, a puff of breath escaping.

“...Yes.” The truth of the admission came from deep within, even as doubts squirmed like pinned insects. “I- I have given myself body and soul, you know that.”

“Good boy.” Bill’s bloody fingers shifted, one thumb sliding between Ford’s wet lips, and Ford instinctively sucked, getting a pat with the other hand as liquid stardust slipped down his throat, igniting his stomach with a far more pleasurable flame that shot further south. “Now then! This is the fun part!”

Ford was about to ask, but Bill’s other hand had slipped beneath the neckline of his sweater at the same time his form began to crack along the bricks to spill free something ancient and starving, and there very quickly ceased to be any possible questions.

[billfordbrigade]

I was doing a prompt meme and a friend gave me ‘figure’ for Bill since we were just talking about him in a bodycon dress the other day, so:

/\/\/\

Bill pulled down on the fabric of the glittery golden dress, adjusting it so it hugged every curve on his meat-sack. And hug it did- he could feel the way the material was tugged taut against the flesh, showing off every bit of the body he’d added to and made his own over the past few years.

It highlighted everything, from the pillowy middle of his stomach soft with squish from food and pregnancy, to the hips he’d been granted to retain some of his shape, to the breasts that had swollen with milk and somewhat stayed that way.

He glanced over to the mirror and grinned, giving a twirl.

This was going to melt Sixer’s brain out of his ears.

[milkamel]

AU idea: PV never regains memories, ancients don't reunite and the beasts are freed. Soul jam's powers are weak so SMilk aims to forcefully make PV remember and takes him to the spire (Little does SM know he'll get attached to this little compassionate Healer)

More details about this AU (currently called Slumbering Truth AU): Basically it starts off with Smilk being terrible and basically doing what he was doing in the 8th episode, trying to make PV remember and playing with his mind for his entertainment. He knows who PV used to be but PV knows nothing about him or his own past. He's confused as to why would this powerful cookie need him but decides to submit in exchange for the village being safe.

At first Healer is uncomfortable and nervous but gradually despite Smilk's intimidating look decides to play along his games and get to know him better. Smilk is surprised by the other's behavior (and unexpected wits and trickery) and what started with the urge to break PV down slowly became an urge to keep the other close since the other's intentions to know him were genuine and comforting and SMilk hated the thought of losing that (not that he'd admit that. he needs that Healer to see him suffer, right?).

Now he doesn't want Healer to remember, he doesn't snap at that cookie as much, he wants him to stay in this blissful lie because if PV knew the truth then he'd definitely leave Smilk and lock him again. If Healer knew the truth he'd turn against him instantly, Smilk was sure. For the first time in a long time, Smilk felt like he found someone to who he was connected and he wasn't going to let anything ruin that.

(It's a wip so I might change some stuff along the way)

[quadrantadvisor]

Even after learning their secret identities, the hero community always insisted that there was something inhuman about the bats. No one doubted that their intensive training had a lot to do with it, but it never quite explained how they could evade a Kryptonian's super senses, how they could melt into shadows, how they could function so long with little food, little rest, little oxygen if need be. Most people dismissed their uneasy feelings, but there was something strange about the bats, something uncanny, something that made them different from the arrows and other vanilla human members. And, slowly enough that no one really noticed, it was getting stronger.

Until one day, during a diplomatic meeting with the ruler of the Infinite Realms, when High King Phantom turned to Batman and his brood and literally brightened. "Oh! I didn't know you had liminal members!"

Or: through a variety of factors (proximity to death, their own death/near death experiences, exposure to the Lazarus Pits, the favor of Lady Gotham, immersion in Gotham's own cursed ambient ectoplasm, being a close knit group who continued to expose eachother, etc.) the batfamily have been becoming liminal/ecto-contaminated without noticing. The powers they're developing have been subtle, and align with the skills they expect to have, so no one brought it up when they started being able to hold their breath beyond human limitations, or got so sneaky that they literally seemed invisible, or had a lucky miss when they expected a bullet to go right through them. And they always exuded an unsettling aura of fear, so no one else thought anything was out of the ordinary either. By the time they meet Danny, Gotham counts as one of the most fiercely defended ghost haunts on the planet, with so many territorial liminals patrolling the streets.

[cyucya]

I stumbled upon skylar-chili after being sad due to personal reasons, AND NOW I AM EVEN MORE SAD.

I like angst. but please tell me this little guy gets a happy ending 😰

Yikes, I hope you feel better… Cause this guy doesn’t. Sorry!

Will he get his happy ending? Maybe. But for now things are still getting worse. Stick around and find out!

Powerless Sonadow kid AU! <Start here

<prev Part 6 next>

Parts navigation

P.S. Guysss, thank you for all of your questions and reactions! I’ll try my best to respond to everyone, but there are some things that I want to reveal later in the plot, so it might take time. Also! Saw someone asking if they could draw for my AU! YES OF COURSE! I’d be so happy! Draw, share, repost on other media (with credit obviously). I want to make MORE people sad >:D

[cb-writes-stuff]

Image ID below the cut.

[ID: A four-panel meme in the “I see no difference, love is love” format, using cookies from Cookie Run Kingdom. In the top left labeled “Yaoi Couple” is Shadow Milk Cookie and Pure Vanilla Cookie. In the top right labeled “Yuri Couple” are Black Forest Cookie and Wedding Cake Cookie. In the bottom left labeled “Straight Couple” are Cocoa Cookie and Mint Choco Cookie. In the bottom right is Eternal Sugar Cookie, looking somewhat intimidating. Above her face the text is black and reads “I see no difference”. Below her face the text is white superimposed on a black square (implying another caption was covered up) and reads “Hollyberry Cookie has the other half of my Soul Jam”. /end ID]

[rotshi]

Ah.....

[chiisanajimi]

more about them

[lazydayslivin]

recoil (with no context)

[hazbincalifornia]

Cages of Iron and Gold

Summary:

Stolas, a royal alpha who seemed to have the world. Blitz, an omega who had always been seen as third best. Cages are prisons no matter what they're made out of.

Wordcount: 2750

Rating: M

Warnings: Omegaverse, implied/referenced sexual assault and underage prostitution. Nothing goes into detail, but the topics are there. (The ‘assault’ tag is the canon-typical moment between Stolas and Stella trying to conceive, which is the section starting with ‘Stolas wanted this to be like the stories.’ The Blitz moments aren’t described but are mentioned.)

Ao3 link

Stolas presents at age twelve on the morning of his birthday. It’s a simple spell for royalty- bow your head, fold your hands, and an elder will set their palms on the top of your skull as the magic scurries through your blood before blooming teal, lavender, or silver.

Stolas is teal- an alpha, befitting the son of a King. His father sounds pleased as he pats his head, and his destiny can continue undeterred. (They had suspected his designation even before his birth, but sometimes the stars ducked and weaved in unexpected ways.)

He is to be given a duty to the future, to the stars, and to sire a precautionary heir with an omega who would become a princess as his future bride. A good role. An important role.

(He curls away at the picture, hugging the book for stability. Tears roll down his cheeks and he’s told that alphas don’t whimper and cry, but he’s offered a chance to go to the circus, and to meet an unexpected friend.)

___

Blitzo presents at age sixteen. It’s a more gradual sort of thing for imps, dependent on how hard puberty hits you, but your smell comes in over the months at sometime after fifteen and is solidified by first heat or rut, or the absence of either. Barbie and Fizz’s scents had already grown strong enough to cement their designations. Alphas, both of them.

Blitzo expected the same- twins of different designations were uncommon. But the days ticked on after Barbie’s first rut (spent in the ‘go mess with the toy chest and don’t get somebody pregnant unless you mean it, dammit’ tent), and he didn’t feel the slight minty chill in his chest, or the protective buzz around packmates, at least not any more than he had since he was small. There was only a roiling churn of lava in his stomach that worsened by the day, and the scent of sweet butter and sticky fruit that clung to his skin like the sweat under his costume.

He wanted to pretend it could be just a fluke or a fever as Barbie pulled his head into her lap, dizzy and nauseous, before sending him out to the tent with slick between his thighs and a black hole in his gut.

___

Stella is, objectively, beautiful. She knows how to fluff her tail behind wide hips as they circle each other with the ceremonial dances, even if she digs her talons into his arm as they whirl around the floor. Her feathers are preened just so with eyelashes fluffed to extend like feathers of their own, and the jewels that glitter on her tiara and her necklace and her rings catch the light in a way that would be beautifully enticing if on a marble statue spinning under a spotlight.

Stolas wants to be happy, wants to enjoy the party the way that other couples seem to. He can hear sparks of laughter tittering on the floor, even if most of the pairs around them are focused on keeping the motions correct, but Stella clicks and steps on his foot when he looks away, and he barely manages to catch himself before he would have tumbled into the table with the prepared meals.

She’s quick, dances half a step off but with strong arms and legs as they take in each other while the music crescendos. Her eyes are cold but she smiles with a beak that suggests a knife, and Stolas has never felt more like a mouse going into a stew.

___

Fizz, Barbie, and Blitzo spent a lot of time draped over each other as children, and designations shouldn’t ruin that. Blitz knows that their scent is rubbing off on him as they cram into the couch to watch a monster movie marathon, but it scratches an itch in the back of his brain, and neither of them bring it up. It keeps people from bothering them when they duck out into the city.

Fizz and Barbie both smell of rubber and ring dirt most of the time, scent muted by the equipment for the acts, and for a while, they can pretend that everything is normal. That nothing needs to change.

Sometimes, though.

The Mammon concert was crammed with the bodies of sweaty adults and sweatier teenagers, and in the aftermath, Fizz’s cinnamon aroma trailed into the night air, mingling with Blitz’s popcorn as they chatted.

He stepped in front of Fizz when that stalker fucker tried to corner him, and got a sneer that omegas shouldn’t get in the way when the alphas were talking, even as Fizz fell in step at his side after pulling away. (“Not even a real alpha if you let him fight all your battles!” was spat out, and Blitzo forced up a grin and tried to cheer him up. Fizz was better than this- all of this. Blitzo could only hope to grab a piece as he went up and up, could only hope to get a chance to keep him safe.)

___

Stolas wanted this to be like the stories.

The first night with Stella after their wedding…

It wasn’t there.

Whatever spark that was meant to alight between alpha and omega, it lay cold and dead on the floor outside of their bedchambers, and the grinding of thighs with legs pressed together to create the kiss and bring out his cock was nothing but friction that drew only the barest sparks of pleasure, drowned in her voice and her face and her movements as she grabbed him to do with as she pleased when he couldn’t force his body to move.

“Worthless, pathetic- what kind of alpha even are you?” she snarled out, a hiss at the demeaning of her own status, her own use, and all he could do was murmur apologies as he clenched at the bedsheets and wished for it to be over.

___

Blitzo wanted Fizz.

That wasn’t particularly new- he had wanted Fizz in some fashion since he was thirteen and a half and had realized that the squiggly feelings in his stomach weren’t just bad food, as they only arose at hearing Fizz laugh or having Fizz nuzzle up against him when they were sharing a blanket. (He had wanted Fizz earlier than that, really- since they’d met, he’d known that he wanted Fizz in his life for the rest of it, because they were a team and they could do anything together.)

This, though… this was for real. Forever.

He ran his fingers over the second-hand collar that had been shoved at him, the leather still stinking with the whiskey that had been spilled over it by black-tipped fingers. The charm in the center, a simple ‘O’, made his thighs clench.

(“If you’re not gonna pull in numbers with the act like Fizz and your sister, you’re gonna make money some other way, got it? No bitching.”)

A mated omega isn’t nearly as appealing as an unmated one, and there’s only one person he’d ever want. (Who might ever want him, a smartass with too-big hands and no off button, who overflowed on all edges with barbed wire and overheated honey and would only roll over pretty for green eyes.)

He set the collar aside, folded the note, and headed for the main tent.

(He opened the flap to see Fizz smiling and laughing and his father right there. He couldn't do this, couldn’t ruin this for him, couldn’t drag him into the mud, and then everything went up in smoke.)

___

It takes three ruts before Octavia is born. Goetian ruts and heats aren’t as effective as they are for other species, due to the fact that high birthrates amongst the immortal may cause issue, but Stolas had felt his heart sink to the lowest pools of Envy at the empty result from the first cycle. Stella declared that he must be faking his designation- he didn’t even try, she’d had to do all of the work, and what kind of lazy, sad alpha didn’t keen for an un-bred omega under their roof?

(Secretly, he wondered if she may be right, even as he shrunk beneath judgemental gazes and buried himself in liquor and pills, barely 18 and already far too acquainted.)

___

It’s the first week out of the hospital. He's due for heat again soon. The terror burns almost as much as the flames did, burns still painful and ragged on his skin. It's only him now. Only him.

It's loud in the wrong way, the city, doesn't smell of greasy fair food and animals but oil and metal. The fire burnt away the what had remained of the layer between him and the world, ruined his glands so no alpha could even know of him unless they were already skin to skin. He's meat. He's meat.

The heat comes and goes. He buries the memories deep.

He sneaks into a store to snatch a bottle of false scent, then slathers on an alpha spice to erase himself, dropping the busted buckle he’d snagged in the trash and the ‘o’ in his name with it.

(Blitz’s body is a commodity, and the best thing he has to offer. He learns to use it well on the streets, to steal hearts and wallets long enough to gain a bed or a full belly or a moment of comfort. Blitzo wanted a bond with his best friend. Blitz finds pleasure where he can in survival, but lives with his teeth and spines flared and ready.)

___

Stolas is told that he’s lucky to have her, a pretty and sociable omega wife that gave him a sweet daughter that looks like him. He smiles and nods and grips the stem of his glass until the wine quivers within, and looks out to the conquests of fellow alphas with a nauseous unease.

___

Blitz is told that he’s lucky he’ll always be wanted when he’s in heat, purred out by a stranger whose name he’s already forgotten as he plots how to grab more suppressants to smother his body’s cycle out of existence. (No matter how good it feels in the moment, the aftermath stings if he’s left alone. Broken and scentless when not burning from the inside out.)

___

Peahens enjoy color and noise. Even as an owlet, Stolas enjoyed the beauty of the galaxy while stargazing or spellcasting, purples and navies and deep nebula reds, while she enjoys brightness, pinks and lavenders and yellows and baby blues. He tries to plant flowers and hang banners that match her fancy, to give the garden the touch of both of them that she didn’t have to initiate, but she throws the pot of one that got too close to her dress and he cleans up the shards with shaking hands.

___

Succubi can sense designations no matter the species- it helps them adjust their own in order to wring the most bang out of their buck when feeding. Verosika likes playing alpha with him, but likes doing omega friend-fucks as well when they’re both in the mood. It’s consistent, and she doesn’t shy away despite his lack of scent.

They fit together, loud and irreverent and eager for the praise of others even as they playfully bitch at each other, conversation and cum both flowing easily. She finds him charming and funny, at least enough to want his dick stuffed in her and to stuff her own in him, and enough to share a bed and a life while on the road as her star rises.

He can feel the spiral when the fights get worse and they cling closer every time before she makes the mistake of thinking that it would be good to keep him.

He can’t stand the thought of partnering with anyone who can’t unravel him the way that she did, so he swallows down the suppressants month after month after month.

___

Octavia is born when Stolas is nineteen and a half, and when he pulls her fragile body against his chest, it is with tears shimmering in his eyes.

A reason to remain, a life that relies on him and that he can’t help but rely on in these cold ancient halls. The protection of family, of his owlet, is one alpha trait that he is more than happy to take on.

(Twelve years later, she is declared a beta, and the annoyance of his wife at the potential stunting of Octavia’s marriage prospects is nothing compared to the relief he buries deep in his chest, promising her that carrying on his duties, should the need ever arise, can be done perfectly well no matter what she is, so she tilts her head and allows herself to be pulled into his arms.)

___

Loona is curled up against the wall in the pound when Blitz passes by her, an omega and a growly thing of seventeen that could be superimposed over himself a decade ago so nearly it makes his teeth ache.

She’s his within the hour, given in a muzzle but ushered out with only the clothes on her back after he tells them to keep their chains. She’s bristly but anxious, and he offers her his scent, his camaraderie.

She gets the bed, and he takes the couch. He’s slept in far worse. In the morning, he makes pancakes before taking her to get her own things, and when she allows him to untangle her knotted hair, he can feel his soul easing as his fingers run through the fur and his pup doesn’t pull away.

A new pack of two. A new start. A new life.

___

Stolas finds routine where he can. His duties, his books, his garden, Via. His ruts are put off for as long as possible, magical delays allowing him to skip a dozen before his body aches and he’s forced to lock himself in a room with toys, discomfort a splitting seam on the edges of what is supposed to be the time of joy and ecstasy as nothing feels solid enough to pin down no matter how many words he has at his disposal.

___

Blitz finds Moxxie first, then Millie- a pair of betas underestimated by the world and by themselves. They make a name for themselves, all of them, and Blitz slathers on the scents to make his way through the world, to get him a foot in the door to rent an office space in Pride after pleading his case. An imp only barely allowed the chance to try, but he’d be blessed if he wasn’t going to give it his all for the misfit pack he’d managed to scrounge up.

___

Imps, as it turns out, display their designation largely through smell, and the scent rolling off Blitz burns brightly enough for even Stolas to be able to tell that his first friend is as boldly, dominatingly alpha as they come.

Stolas allows himself to be swept away in the rush of it all- this is what they wanted him to be, this is power and control, but as his eyes and limbs are bound, all he can do is moan for more, for a chance to see what might have been if he’d been made the way he was supposed to, a chance to feel right on the other side offered up so freely by someone who wasn’t shying away.

A chance to feel a bond that had been crooned for since time immemorial, but had always slipped through his grasp. A chance to be with his first friend again, in every way that he could be.

___

Birds, it turns out, don’t have a very good sense of smell, and even when Blitz is right on top of Stolas on the too-large bed, the false scents are more than enough to convince him, and having a Goetia moaning out ‘yes, Alpha!’ to him while squirming underfoot is intoxicating.

Stolas moans out that he was his first friend, and when he turns back, he feels a bubbling in his gut that itches at the desire to claim someone who wanted him in any way that he could. To be a friend and a playmate, to be desired for some deeper burnt and buried part of himself just for one more round, even if it wasn’t real, wasn’t the whole story.

One more round.

One more round.

One more round.

[shadowofthelamp]

So, I'm introducing little Beatrice (my Billford kid) with a Dipper's Guide to the Unexplained! She came through the portal with Ford, and this was my first sketch but what she's wearing probably looks a bit more like Ford's goggles with the 'reveal' in NWHS.

She was co-created by Emmie/Fanart Anon!

Dipper holding up a sign: Welcome back to Dipper’s Guide to the Unexplained! Anomaly number 64: Aunt Beatrice. She arrived with Great-Uncle Ford, and she says that she’s twelve, but she keeps talking about things that Great-Uncle Ford said happened years before that as if she was there, and she refuses to take her goggles off that cover the upper half of her face, even when she sleeps. She also doesn’t seem to like leaving his side for long. A quirk from being raised dimension-hopping, or something stranger?

Mabel: Maybe she’s just heard lots of stories! I know I forgot that I didn’t go through Dream Boy High one day after a week’s worth of crazy dreams about it!

Dipper: But what about the goggles? Besides, I heard her talking about science-y equations at the table with Great-Uncle Ford after dinner last night, so she's smart- I don’t think she’d just forget she didn’t do something.

Mabel: Or maybe she’s just lying! She said she’s never really been around other kids before, right? Maybe she just wants us to like her. And it’s working! On me at least, you’re just-

Dipper: Mabel, I’m trying to be scientific about this, that’s all!

Mabel: Come on, Dipper, I think she’s just a little awkward. It has to be a little weird to have somebody Grandpa Shermie’s age as your dad.

Dipper, rubbing his arm: I wouldn’t mind having Great-Uncle Ford as a dad.

Mabel: That’s because you’re both nerds.

Dipper: Not the point! Anyway, right now, my theory is that she was part of some sort of hivemind, and the goggles hide bug eyes, the last piece left from her original form. She also really seems to like honey. Maybe Great-Uncle Ford helped to rescue her, and that’s why she still looks like him, because she modeled her form after him and now she sees him as her new queen! I’m going to show her the beekeepers near the petting zoo on the side of town and see how she reacts.

___

Dipper: And here we are!

*Camera cuts to Beatrice, wearing a yellow sweater with black stripes that Mabel made her*

Bea: Oh, insects! They’re so much smaller than the ones I’ve seen before. And they make Earth-honey?

Dipper: Don’t you want to take your goggles off to see the better?

Bea: Nah, I can see them just fine.

Dipper, glancing over at the camera: Anyway, what do you mean, you’ve seen them before?

Bea, stepping closer to the hives: Oh, Papa and I ran into a hive like these in a different dimension, but they were ten times the size and the hair on them was purple, since that helped them to blend in the with local flora. They were friendly if you brought gifts, though, and even let you trade for some of their honey if the gifts were sweet enough. One of them taught me to speak their language.

*Beatrice clears her throat before a buzzing sound emanates from it. Several bees land on her outstretched hand, curious.*

Bea: Look, they like me! Hey, Dipper, do you have any enemies? I bet I could set them loose as a favor for helping me yesterday!

Dipper, considering: Well, there is this one girl-

Bea: Just say the word! C’mon, little guys, you’d strip somebody down to the bone for me, wouldn’t you?

Dipper: I don’t think bees can do that.

Bea: Oh. Right. Maybe just a lot of stings? *She makes more buzzing noises, but as she finishes the last one, the bees begin to swarm* What did I say? What did I say?

Dipper, dropping the camera’s view to the ground as bees fill the screen: Whatever it was, run!

___

Dipper, as Mabel rubs lotion on his swollen cheek: This concludes today’s episode of Dipper’s Guide to the Unexplained. We still haven’t figured out exactly what’s up with our new aunt, but I think we can say with some certainty that she’s just as awkward with the local bees as she can be with the rest of us.

Mabel: But she looked really cool smacking them with that glowing whip thingie she pulled out of her pocket!

Dipper: ...Yeah, she did. This does require more investigating, but I'll get the board out once we're done with the-

Bea, popping her head into the bedroom door: Hey, what are you guys doing in here? Do you need more lotion?

Dipper: Nothing!

*Video ends*

[diaphene]

sfw / angst

. .

you two were just talking

& somehow ended on the discussion of his immortality

you told him it would be pretty cool to be immortal. you get to learn every language, read every book in existence, travel to every possible destination, see the evolution of the world with your own eyes ... and even take it as far as space?

what you wouldn't give to see that

you then joked and teased on how he is going to have many loves in his life after you. his eyes fell and his face faltered. he heavily debated if he should tell you or not, knowing you and how you would react

his plan, after he can no longer be with you, was to be frozen again. he didn't see the point in being here anymore. he didn't have the same enthusiasm on immortality as you did. you were it for him

he wasn't excited on having to be ... forever. stuck in time ... unable to move on

you noticed his expression changed, and called his name, wondering if you had said something wrong

he looked at you and forced a smile, kissing you on the forehead, deciding it is better to not say anything and to just enjoy every possible second he has with you

keeping his plans to himself

. .

.

[milkamel]

Finally part 3! Gonna take a break after this one unless I have more ideas lol Anyway Smilk isn't the best example of how you're supposed to keep people you find endearing close-

[bunni-v1]

i genuinely adore how you write smc, it’s so so real and accurate

on that note, could you write something in relation of him & a reader with terminal illness ?

Generally speaking, there's not much that would change in his behavior. He's still overbearing and sickeningly sweet to you. There are a few things that might be a little different though.

He probably could magically cure you if he wanted to, but I fucking HATE that trope in media with a passion. So I'm not gonna touch it because disabled people aren't broken, they just need to be accommodated. And that's number one; he is super accommodating to your needs. The spire is made so it is easier for you to get around, if you can't walk or struggle to do so with your illness he'll make you the nicest mobility aids ever. You won't have to worry about things not working or being unable to wander around, he'll make sure you can.

If you're having a bad day, you won't have to want for anything. He's at your beck and call, whenever you need him. If he even leaves your side at all. If he does for any reason, one of his many servants will take care of you until he can. It is the best care you could ever ask for, I'm serious. He knows all about how to care for all kinds of disorders and diseases, so he applies that knowledge to you better than any doctor you've seen has. Perks of being with the former fount of knowledge I guess lol.

He's more protective than even if you're ill. He'll still let you go about your day, but he's anxious about anything that could happen to you more than usual. You've already got limited time, he's not trying to make that time any shorter for any reason. Even the slightest shift in expression and he's at your side like a worried mother, it would be cute if it didn't happen so fucking much.

Lastly, and this is dependent on what you want in this case. If your illness is too much to bear and he cannot take it away, he won't try and extend your life. He wants you to spend the rest of eternity by his side, he adores you more than anything, but if you're suffering he can't bring himself to force you to live with the pain.

He'll do everything he can to make your life easier, even if he can't magically cure you. The time you spend with him is likely the best you'll ever feel because he will never let you feel like your disease defines who you are.

You will be loved, though. Cared for and cherished with or without your illness. He of all cookies understands that your disabilities and limitations do not define you as a person, they are simply a part of you that he comes to accept and cherish.

[toyouhellohowareyou]

This may just be the coolest fanart I've ever received. 🖤

For chapter 2 of Four and After By Seyph (insta). Uploaded to tumblr with permission. Update: Seyph has joined now tumblr! Go follow!!