#vast please process your feelings

[heyhay13]

Guess who wrote a new canon fic?

[uniquezombiedestiny]

I don't want you to forget me I want you to die with me. I miss you I should have lived. I love you. Why are you putting these words in my mouth?

(artfight attack for @tsunagite, ft. reinhardt :3)

[ckret2]

who wants a prism break?

So, the Theraprism! The Theraprism sucks, right?

This is like, a good day.

The Theraprism clearly sucks.

Have a one shot of Bill escaping Theraprism with the most desperate escape plan imaginable: reincarnation.

(Warning for, as you might expect, psychiatric hospital abuse.)

####

There are fates worse than death. Like boredom, for instance!

####

Everything was black and numb and silent and cold so so cold but no he could only call it cold if he felt cold and Bill didn't feel coldness there was just the absence of a feeling the absence of heat the absence of light the absence of sound the absence of touch the absence of air.

The absence of everything.

Bill had loved a void once—a micro black hole. Every time they touched it slowly killed him, spaghettified his limbs, drained his energy. His energy was so vast that she never claimed a drop of a drop of a drop of his reserves—but it still hurt like nothing else to be crushed and stretched and ripped and consumed by her event horizon. The pain was wonderful. Being shredded was ecstasy.

This void was the opposite of her. 

He couldn't even feel anything when he tried to scream—without air, he couldn't feel his vocal plates vibrate. He couldn't feel his hands, his face, his eye; he tried to bite himself just to feel something and he couldn't feel his mouth, he tried to rip open his wounds and couldn't find them; why couldn't he see his own light, why couldn't he see his blood, where had he gone, was he gone—

Reality returned like a light bulb being switched on.

The first thing he registered was a shrill sound on the verge of inaudibility; and then the pain in his eye, his sides, his wounds; and then the dull gray light, the hard floor under his knees, the antiseptic stench in the air conditioning.

He stopped screaming. The shrill sound stopped.

"Energetic as always, are we?"

Bill blinked blearily at the Orb of Healing Light hovering before him. He croaked, "I'll regurgitate you."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." A glowing translucent clipboard manifested in front of the Orb. "Well, you've gone through this enough times to know the drill! Do you need a moment to recover, or—?"

"No no, I'm fine, I'm fine." Bill slumped forward, trembling hands on the floor, waiting for the vertigo to pass. "I'm fine. Do your thing." He'd rather get the post-Solitary Wellness Void reorientation interview over with.

"Perfect. What's your name?"

"I'm ol' Vinegar Pete."

"No clowning, please."

He sighed loudly. "Bill Cipher."

"Good. Where are you?"

He considered saying hell, but decided he'd used up all the clowning he could risk for one day. He didn't want to go back in. "The Theraprism. Ward 333."

"Very good. When are you?"

"I was gonna ask you," Bill groaned. "How long was I in the hole this time? A million years? Ten million?"

The Orb checked its notes. "Eight minutes."

"Wh—no, no I know that time moves slower out in reality than in the prism. I'm not asking how much time passed in reality, I'm asking how much time passed here."

"Eight minutes," the Orb repeated. "Outside the Theraprism, one third of one second passed."

Bill groaned again and flopped flat on the floor.

"Do you know why you're here?"

"Why are any of us here?" Bill asked the gray linoleum tiles. "Usually because some dumb beast tripped into the booby trap that sets off its reproductive process. How's your species work, you pop outta nebulas, right—?"

"I meant, coming out of the Solitary Wellness Void."

"Oh." Bill tried to remember what his infraction had been this time. "Because I failed to escape."

"Because you tried to escape."

If he'd succeeded, they never could have punished him. "Sure."

"Good, you seem oriented to your surroundings. Let's get you to the nurse and then back to your cell." The nurse? What did he need a nurse for?

He only realized then that he must have succeeded in reopening his wounds in the SWV: the never-quite-healed crack across his exoskeleton was wider, the edges chipped and bent. It hurt. His eye socket hurt too; he tasted blood. With the way his whole body usually ached after leaving the void, he hadn't even noticed.

Through the crack in his exoskeleton, his edges had frayed into fine golden threads. The sight of silvery blood on his hands made him nauseous; he hastily looked away and reminded himself it was only his own. 

####

As Bill wearily followed behind the Orb and two security guards followed behind him, he had to periodically turn to hover sideways to streamline himself. These days he was so weak that he could feel the air resistance pushing back against him when he floated; with his wound reopened, he felt like the air pressure could snap his exoskeleton along the crack and break him in half.

"You're not Emmy," Bill said. "You're, uh..."

"A-AOX4."

"Oxyyy," Bill said weakly. "Heyyy. S'been a while. Usually I get a personal welcome back from the void, why didn't Emmy show? Don't tell me it doesn't see me as a threat anymore!" He'd be offended if it didn't. D-SM5 was the closest thing he had to a nemesis these days. Even if he couldn't beat it, he wanted to think he still irritated the daylights out of it.

"Director SM5 couldn't make it. It's overseeing the preparations for Paingoreous's reincarnation."

"That's today? Good riddance." Paingoreous had started getting sanctimonious the past few hundred group therapy sessions—don't you have any compassion for your victims and it's possible to live a happy life without slaughtering all your enemies first and maybe I should ask for permission before I vivisect my friends' faces—passive, self-defeatist crap like that. Vivisecting your friends and seeing who complained was how you found out who your lame friends were! Now that the wet blanket was leaving, the rest of them could get back to spending their sessions reminiscing about the glory days and trying to set the donuts on fire when the therapist was distracted.

"Yes," A-AOX4 said pointedly, "it is good he gets to leave to go become a productive member of reality. We're all so happy that he's rehabilitated enough to earn a new chance at life." (Bill rolled his eye. A-AOX4 ignored it.) "Wouldn't you like a chance to rejoin reality, Bill?"

More than anything. He'd been in this crystallized brain's perpetual dreamscape for what felt like both a thousand years and a single day—time never passing, an eternal inescapable moment. He'd tried to break out, sneak out, or bargain his way out more times than he could count; sometimes he was locked in the SWV as punishment; and sometimes the staff gently stopped him, confiscated his supplies, and chastised him for the effort—and the reminder that he was as powerless as a child was worse than the void. He'd gone delirious from the boredom, hallucinating screams and burning faces as his mind struggled to stimulate itself (and he'd been medicated for it). He'd so despaired of escaping that he'd looked for a way to burn up the remains of his energy and vanish for good (and he'd been medicated for it). He ached with the need to see the stars again.

But not enough to sell his soul for it. If he took the staff's route—let them break him down, sandblast off his rough edges, erase everything that made him him, and finally physically transform him into some alien creature—then whatever left the Theraprism would no longer be Bill Cipher.

"What, and force you guys to find a new 'unique case'? I wouldn't do that to you! I know how much you love me," Bill said. "Besides, why would I go through all that just so I can reincarnate as a sentient snowflake, or Mi-Go antennae lice, or..."

"A butterfly," A-AOX4 cut in, an edge of impatience creeping into its tone. "Paingoreous has chosen to reincarnate as a butterfly. We all think that's a very productive way to channel his desire to digest his own skin."

"Unless it's one of those blood-drinking butterflies, lame." Bill scoffed. "Wait—hold on, you said butterfly? Like an Earth butterfly?"

They were, of course, not actually speaking an Earth language, but an interdimensional pidgin that borrowed words and grammar from dozens of worlds. When around the Orbs of Healing Light that held half the staff positions, Bill tended to speak a dialect of the pidgin that used flashes of light for 40% of its vocabulary. It was perfectly possible that the word Bill knew as "butterfly" was also used for some alien creature, but—

"Yes, an Earth butterfly. A Vanessa atalanta, to be precise."

Aw, boo. Not even a cool butterfly. "He's reincarnating on Earth?"

"Yes. Many of our patients reincarnate on Earth. As long as you're careful about which region and century you reincarnate into, it's at the top of our recommended list of Goldilocks zones."

There was another phrase that Bill recognized, but this time he was sure his definition was not A-AOX4's definition. "Whaaat do Goldilocks zones have to do with reincarnation."

"You didn't pay attention to the orientation session on our outpatient reincarnation program, did you."

"What! I didn't get an orientation session!" said Bill, who probably didn't remember any such session because he didn't pay attention to it.

"Well—we rank millions of planets and their dimensional parallels based on their potential to help patients reintegrate into reality. We do try to set our patients up for success," A-AOX4 said. "To qualify as a Goldilocks zone, a planet has to meet the Theraprism's rigorous list of criteria: its lifeforms, cultures, laws of physics, and position in interdimensional society must all be conducive to a patient's continued recovery. We want to ensure that our patients' new lives are neither so difficult as to retraumatize them, nor so easy as to let them coast by avoiding continued personal growth, but right in the middle, so that they're emotionally and spiritually challenged without being overwhelmed. The Goldilocks zone: a perfect compromise between two extremes."

"Yeah, sure, sounds great." Bill could feel his eye glazing over in disinterest. Fight it, Cipher.

"Do you miss Earth?"

Bill tilted to glance askance at A-AOX4, and was surprised to see it had turned to focus a spotlight on him. Oh—it thought it had finally found a carrot to dangle in front of him. That was a popular strategy here: they figured out what a patient wanted most, and then used it to coax them into good behavior and "rehabilitation"—better still if they could attach a sense of urgency to it. Don't you want to see your descendants again before the last of them dies out? Don't you want to see your homeworld before its sun swallows it? Don't you want to reconcile with your god before the heat death of your universe?

But Bill had no universe, no homeworld, no family; no lovers or friends or gods that hadn't betrayed him and left him to rot here; and he'd remained smugly steadfast in refusing to give D-SM5 and its minions anything else it could use to get under his chitin. He was proud that he was too broken for even the famed Theraprism to fix him.

A-AOX4 probably thought it had finally found an opening. It might be useful to let it keep thinking that.

"You kidding me? Earth? Pfff! I don't miss that overgrown asteroid one bit!" He waved off the suggestion, and winced when the gesture tugged wrong at his reopened wound. "But hey, you don't study a world for millions of years without finding a few things about it to like. The music's pretty good. And the movies and literature, though if you ask me, they peaked between the first two World Wars. I like trees, evolution did a great job with trees. And humans really went off with the architecture. The pyramids? 10 out of 10. And some of the locals aren't bad, I've got a few exes from Earth."

"Do you? How many exes?"

"Living? Just a hundred forty or fifty," Bill said dismissively. "Earthlings just have those pretty eyes, you know? I'm a sucker for a pretty eye! But outside of that, no, there's nothing on Earth for me."

"I see," A-AOX4 said lightly, and dropped the conversation.

Hook, line, and sinker.

####

The original definition of a "Goldilocks zone" came from astrobiology. The Goldilocks zone was the ring of space around a star in which an orbiting planet could support liquid water and thus water-based life: not too close to the star and too hot, not too far and too cold, but just right. Earth, for instance, orbited Sol in its Goldilocks zone.

It was from this definition that other, more metaphorical definitions of Goldilocks zones emerged. Such as the Theraprism's: a world that was neither too stressful nor too boring for a newly brainwashed—sorry, "cured"—patient. And apparently Earth was in that Goldilocks zone, too.

Which was very interesting to Bill—because in their search for a new home, the Henchmaniacs had come up with their own definition of a Goldilocks zone. For them, it was a dimension close enough to the Nightmare Realm with a thin enough barrier that they could easily punch through it, but not so close and so thin that puncturing the barrier would pop it like a balloon and cause the dimension to immediately prolapse into the Nightmare Realm—which was a problem they'd had before. More than once. They needed a dimension they could easily cut a hole into, but control it, so they could slowly pump the Nightmare Realm's contents in. A barrier neither too vulnerable nor too strong, but just right.

And wouldn't you know it—but Earth happened to be in that Goldilocks zone too. Right next to a point in the dimensional membrane so thin, the Nightmare Realm could almost stretch through and kiss it.

####

Since Bill Cipher was infamously known as the last survivor of a trillion-years-extinct species, and had until recently been capable of instantly repairing himself, there were no medical records on how his anatomy worked. It didn't help that at some point eons ago he'd somehow managed to graft a 3D exoskeleton to his 2D anatomy without breaking his own physics, meaning no one had seen his true body in recorded history. Bill knew how he worked, but refused to offer any hints. So the Theraprism staff had to guess at Bill's medical treatment.

But Bill was still made of energy, and even weakened he could eventually self-repair. So whenever his injury was exacerbated, the nurse tended to just patch up his exoskeleton to keep it stable enough to send him back to his room.

On top of his mysterious anatomy, the staff had no idea how to medicate his physiology. They knew he could be medicated—Bill's personal substance (ab)use experiments were notorious far outside the Nightmare Realm—but they had to treat him like a newly-discovered form of life in figuring out what affected him, how it affected him, and how much it took. He'd been on and off hundreds of drugs as they tried to chemically stabilize a mind for which they had no idea what baseline stability looked like. D-SM5 had told him that between the enormous doses needed to impact his energy-based physiology and the vast variety of drugs he'd been through, Bill's medication regimen was the most expensive in the Theraprism. He took some pride in that.

He had very few things to take pride in anymore. He clung to what meager victories he could.

If Bill got his way, he wouldn't be medicated at all. None of the substances they wanted him on were what he'd call recreational. (Although for a while he had gotten away with not telling the docs that one of his antipsychotics had given him a side-effect of kaleidoscopic hallucinations.) Plus there was the fact that he'd heard rumors that quite a few pharmaceutical execs were good pals with a certain director—not that Bill would name names, of course!—that's his motto, Don't Slander Maliciou5ly!

But when he resisted taking his meds, they could send in the guards to pin him down so a nurse could inject a sedative so strong he wouldn't remember anything that happened for the next few hours to months (hard to tell) until they started tapering it off... and although he'd rather die than admit it, after losing that fight five or six times, even he had to admit to himself it was a lot less scary to just take their rotten drugs. Better to go through his days with his mind dulled and hazy than blacked out altogether.

To retain what little pride he had left, he'd reached a compromise with his jailers.

When the nurse had finished attaching the reinforcing splints around Bill's injury, they grabbed a medication measurement cup, filled it halfway with syrupy eye drops, and double-checked Bill's chart as they dropped thirteen different pills (plus a fourteenth pill for a painkiller) in the cup.

As Bill redressed, he eyed the unappetizing cocktail of antidepressants, antipsychotics, mood stabilizers, and things he'd forgotten the purpose of but that probably weren't doing whatever the doctors hoped and definitely weren't doing anything Bill liked. "My straw?"

"Right, right." The nurse handed over one of the wide-diameter disposable white straws they kept on hand for patients who struggled to drink (or, in Bill's case, patients they struggled to get to drink).

Only a tiny fragment of Bill was actually locked up in the Theraprism—like pinching the glowing lure of an anglerfish in a trap while the rest of the fish thrashed outside—and because most of Bill's vast energy was elsewhere, he was nearly powerless. But he still had enough energy to heat up a finger, twist the straw around it, and hold it there until it had melted into a new shape.

The nurse sighed. "Do you have to do that every time? You ruin more straws than you get right."

Imperiously, Bill said, "Leave me to my whimsy." He tugged off the straw when it had cooled down to examine the corkscrew shape he'd made. The wall was a little flattened in one place, but he could pinch it back open. "See? It's perfect!" Cheerfully ignoring the nurse, he stuck the straw in his cup and slurped down his pills like tapioca balls. He tried not to remember what was in them.

A-AOX4 had left Bill with the nurse, but the two mall cops with medical kinks known as Bill's personal guards were still waiting nearby. The nurse's office was next door to the cafeteria—for ease of patients picking up their medications at meal times—in an anteroom that was connected to the rest of the ward by a set of locked double doors. A couple of guards were stationed near those doors at all times, and generally the guards assigned to Bill hung around with them while Bill was in the cafeteria or nurse's office. Bill floated up to them, regarding them with the disinterest of a king ignoring the servants he expected to open doors for him, and continued to ignore them as they escorted him back to his cell, one in front and one behind, while he sipped on his drugged cocktail.

The Dimensional Tyrant Ward was already one of the most heavily-guarded wards in the Theraprism; but to reach the maximum security cells, a patient had to pass several increasingly heavy security checkpoints with increasingly impenetrable security doors. The final door was warded against all magic, unhackable, unbreakable, and so airtight that even without his exoskeleton there was no gap Bill's 2D form could slide through. The doors to each cell—outfitted with tiny one-way mirror portholes, no latches or hinges on the inside—were a little less heavy duty, but packed with just as many failsafes. The Dimensional Tyrant Ward's max security hall had the most advanced security architecture of any psychiatric facility in the multiverse.

Bill had made a trillion year career of trying to break his way through a door nobody wanted him to go through. He could think of seven different ways to get through the doors. Sooner or later he'd find a way out of this place altogether.

A few of the doors had modifications: this one with a metal slab over the porthole to protect passersby from the occupant's petrifying gaze, that one with extra soundproofed padding coating the door. Bill was almost insulted his own door didn't warrant any special modifications.

His favorite door was The Beast's. A comfortingly yellow triangular sign on the door displayed a black symbol of a steak. Red signs above and below read "CAUTION! FEED UNSEASONED MEAT ONLY." "NO SUGAR ALLOWED." The Beast's heavy snuffing was audible through the door; his hot, sickly sweet breath seeped through the slot in the door that had been installed to deliver his food.

Bill's escorts automatically drifted to the far side of the hall to avoid The Beast. Bill, whose first medication was already starting to kick in, zigzagged lazily back and forth across the hall, heedless of how close he came to The Beast's cell.

Bill had never seen this door opened once in all his time incarcerated, and the dust settled on the additional chains and padlocks stretched across the door showed just how long it had been since the last incident. But some of the patients who'd been here longer than Bill still couldn't bring themselves to speak of the last time he'd escaped. Elder eldritch gods shuddered and gibbered nervously at the mention of his name. 

Bill tilted over to try to peer through the food slot at The Beast. A quivering, sickly blue eye stared back at him. Honestly, Bill thought The Beast was adorable.

Outside Bill's door, the guards waited for Bill to finish his medicine, hand over his cup and straw, and open his mouth and lift his eye out of the way so they could check and make sure he'd swallowed them.

And then he was left in his cell.

####

A perfect cube of uniform dull grey tiles supernaturally lit by a uniform dull grey glow, no light source, no shadows; in a max security room in the Maximum Security Wellness Center, patients weren't even trusted around light fixtures. The staff had removed everything Bill had used thus far to commit violence or attempt escape, plus a few more things as punishments for various infractions: journal, paint, pens, books, magazines, puppets (he missed those the most), even the furniture. He'd never earned the privilege of a TV or radio. By now, all he was permitted were black, red, yellow, and blue dry erase markers to draw on his walls—and the red and blue had gone dry; the "Be a TRY-angle!" poster they'd replaced whenever Bill left the room until he gave up and stopped tearing it down; and the clothes on his back. He'd gradually gotten himself banned from every extracurricular and recreational activity the Dimensional Tyrant Ward offered. Whenever he was fresh out of the SWV, when his restrictions were highest, his schedule consisted of mandatory individual therapy, mandatory group therapy, med checks, and the cafeteria.

He spent the vast majority of his time in his cell, sitting curled up alone, day after night after day, barely moving, barely talking, barely eating, waiting for nothing at all.

####

The seamless door swung open and admitted an Orb of Healing Light.

Bill blinked blearily up at the Orb. It was hard to tell how slowly time passed here, but he was sure it couldn't have been more than a couple hours since he'd been returned to his cell: that was when his medications made his mind the foggiest. "Emmyyy. Where ya been? Didn't see you when I came out of the Solitary Dullness Void. Nice of you to, uh..." A second ago he'd had a clever quip about how D-SM5 had clearly dropped by because it missed Bill, but he'd forgotten how to word it.

"Well, I'm here now. I'm flattered you missed me, Mr. Cipher."

Bill blinked heavily. "You turned that around on me," he griped. "Not fair." Ugh, the room was spinning. He flopped on his back.

"A-AOX4 tells me you showed an interest earlier in our outpatient reincarnation program," D-SM5 said. "Since it looks like your schedule is light these days, I thought you might be interested in attending Paingoreous's reincarnation?"

It took him a moment to process the offer. "Really? That's something people can attend?" What was the catch?

"We usually only extend the offer to the departing patient's friends, and—exemplary patients. But... I thought you might benefit from watching the process for yourself. It may encourage you to take a little more interest in your future."

For it to push a possible lead so fast, it really was desperate to find some leverage they could use on Bill. It probably thought of this as a rare opportunity—a patient from Ward 333 wasn't ready for reincarnation every day.

"Wow. I sure am encouraged," Bill said. "You have no idea just how encouraged I am."

####

If an unambitious office building and a utilitarian hospital reluctantly got married out of a vague sense of heteronormative social obligation, had a depressed child, and the fae spirited it away to replace it with an even more depressed changeling child, the child's small intestines would look a lot like the Theraprism's interior hallways: it was windowless, it was labyrinthine, it was beige, and it was grey, and it didn't even care anymore. Monotonous commercial high-traffic carpet alternated with monotonous commercial high-traffic linoleum. The fluorescent lights buzzed just enough to be annoying, but not quite enough that you'd feel justified in snapping and screaming "I've had it!" as you swung a pleather-seated metal chair at the light fixture.

Even though Bill had been languishing in the Theraprism for hours and/or millennia (Bill couldn't tell; he couldn't feel the passage of time), he hardly knew his way around the Dimensional Tyrant Ward, much less the rest of the facility. As D-SM5 led Bill (and six guards) out of Ward 333 and into a lower security zone, he looked for any scant identifiable landmarks and tried to memorize which turns they took by coding the lefts and rights and ups and downs into a mnemonic word. The walk helped wake him from his medication stupor; but his mind never quite felt fully on.

Bill had only briefly glimpsed the Theraprism's reincarnation unit during intake, just one of many rooms he'd been whisked past as he was dragged to Ward 333 screaming and cursing the Axolotl's name. Entering the unit now, it looked like an occult sacrificial altar carved from marble that had been modeled after a 23rd century starship's teleportation platform, contained in a room that looked like a magic planetarium: glowing stars hovered around the dome of the ceiling. Against the back wall in pale pink marble was carved an impossibly long axolotl, swimming in a figure 8 so its vapid smile almost caught the tip of its ribbonlike tail. Bill glowered at it. Backstabber.

He, D-SM5, and the other observers who'd already arrived were in a connected observation room with an enormous, thick window and a sealed door. Next to the window was a large computer console encased in the same marble as the reincarnation altar. That probably controlled the process.

The audience consisted of three aliens who looked a little like Paingoreous might have with his face unpeeled, a few patients and staff Bill recognized, more he didn't, and Jessica with the shining spherical head and the thirteen fingers. Oh boy. If he'd known Jessica would be here he would have tried to polish. Bill straightened his bow tie and smoothed his rumpled orange jumpsuit.

Paingoreous himself was already in the next room, standing on the altar. At the sight of Bill, his exposed facial muscles twitched, as though trying to widen his eyes even though their eyelids were already long gone. "Bill? What are you doing here?"

D-SM5 answered before Bill could blurt out a witty retort. "I invited Mr. Cipher. I thought he would benefit from seeing what he can look forward to once he's improved. I hope you don't mind."

Paingoreous's face immediately smoothed out. "Yes—of course, director, if you say so. I remember how difficult it was in the early days. I'm happy to help my fellow patients in any way I can." Suck up. A dry note entered his voice, "Especially a more troubled patient."

Bill took one of the folding chairs lined up in front of the window and shot back, "I'm about to have one less trouble! Byyye!" (Did Jessica think that was funny? Sometimes she did. He snuck a sideways glance to see if she was laughing. Oh, right—she didn't have a face.)

Paingoreous didn't dignify him with a response. Too good for the likes of Bill, no doubt. Paingoreous wasn't obligated to answer anybody—except the staff, of course.

Bill had never met the real Paingoreous. By the time Bill was committed, the monotony, medication, and mandatory therapy were already well on their way to killing whoever Paing had once been. No way the offensively bland sap leaving now was the same one who'd come in with his face skinned and muscles pinned open.

A technician was already turning on the computer console, running through a whole list of checks as the machine booted up. A hum filled the room as the altar began to softly glow. To all appearances Bill was facing forward, slitted pupil aimed straight at Paingoreous; but his anatomy was built for watching things out of the corner of his eye and his real attention was focused on the reincarnation technician. "So how's reincarnation work in this dump?" Bill asked D-SM5. "I didn't get the orientation."

"Yes you did," D-SM5 said. "I was there."

"Oh yeah? Well, I don't remember seeing you."

D-SM5 sighed. "First, Paingoreous's memories of his current life must be erased, to give him the best fresh start possible and to comply with Earth's soul sanitization regulations."

"Seems like a big waste of time. His head's already empty enough."

One of the Paing-ish aliens a couple seats over shot Bill a dirty look. "That's my son in there."

"Not for much longer, he isn't."

"Be respectful," D-SM5 said warningly.

Bill ignored it. "So once you've scrubbed his brain clean, what then?"

"Then, we reincarnate him. We've already carefully selected his destination and species; except for special circumstances, we generally don't customize the patient's body further, as the program is already set up to divinely design the body most well-suited to the soul about to inhabit it."

"If these bodies are so perfect, why customize them at all?"

"We wouldn't want, say, a recovering pyromaniac to be reborn with pyrokinesis." (Bill felt unfairly targeted.) "Once his species and destination are entered into the program, off he'll go to start his new life as an egg."

"An egg?! Sheesh, wasn't going through childhood once bad enough? I assume his childhood was bad, anyway! Nobody with competent parents ends up like him."

The Paing-ish alien beside Bill bolted out of their seat and lurched aggressively toward Bill. (Ha. Too easy.) The next alien over tugged them back by the arm. Bill was sure he heard a whispered, "Careful, do you know who that..." 

D-SM5 said, "One more crack like that and you're going back to your cell."

"Fiiine. Why can't he skip straight to being a butterfly, though?" What he really wanted to find out was how to skip straight to adulthood.

"For starters, because spontaneous generation has been heavily restricted on Earth since the 15th century, and banned completely outside of special circumstances since the 19th century."

Spontaneous generation. The creation of fully formed life from unliving matter: maggots that emerged from flesh, geese that emerged from barnacles, snakes and crocodiles that wriggled out of the mud of the Nile. He'd always planned to legalize it again when he took over. So if the only reason the Theraprism couldn't do it was because it was banned, then they must have the technology for it, right?

Bill tuned D-SM5 out as it prattled on about the mental health benefits of restarting life and beginner's mind and boring therapeutic psychobabble, and ignored the flashing lights and divine music as Paingoreous's memory, personality, and identity were all wiped clean. He was only interested in what the reincarnation technician was doing. (Although when Bill briefly glanced at Paingoreous, his shape seemed somehow uncertain, as though his molecules had only just walked into the room and promptly forgotten what they'd come in for or who they were supposed to be. Ready to be reshaped into something else.)

The technician opened up the primary reincarnation program, checked a box confirming that the patient's previous incarnation had been erased, and began setting up the specifications for his next incarnation. Choosing the reincarnation world was easy enough: under the drop down menu, the "Goldilocks zone" worlds were sorted first. Earth was sixth on the list. Choosing a dimension was just as easy.

However, choosing the location and time period looked more complicated; rather than searching through a handy list of continents or geological epochs, the technician checked Paingoreous's patient file and typed a couple of long strings of numbers into the blanks for the coordinates and time. They didn't look like any date system or coordinate system Bill was familiar with. How the heck would he work with that?

And selecting the species, to Bill's horror, meant scrolling down a menu ordered by how frequently a species had been selected for reincarnation at this facility. That was insane! The Theraprism always discharged patients as unambitious species where one member was nearly incapable of making a meaningful impact on the local biosphere—anything useful like an octopus or a goat would be buried amongst the literal billions of species that had received zero reincarnations. Couldn't you just start typing the species's name to jump down to—? But no, the Theraprism's keyboard didn't have characters to type human loan words. The technician seemed to be scrolling manually.

That was fine! That was fine. Whatever Bill left as, he wouldn't be it for very long. He wasn't shopping for a makeover; just for an escape pod.

The technician located Vanessa atalanta (147 prior reincarnations) and kept moving, tabbing past a dizzying array of options—sex, size, coloration, visual clarity, caterpillar spine distribution, a whole list of health conditions and mutations the technician skipped—and every box she tabbed past automatically filled in with the word "DEFAULT". How many boxes could be filled in with defaults?

Bill leaned toward D-SM5. "So do you chuck these suckers out anywhere random on the planet or what?"

"Of course not," it said promptly. "What a thought! We take a deep interest in our discharged patients' well-being. We never leave where they spend their next lives at the whim of the computer's randomized decision." 

But they could leave it up to the computer. Still watching sideways as the technician scrolled past an "advanced settings" button without touching it (was that where the spontaneous generation option was hidden?), Bill asked, "Do youalways choose for the patient, or can the patient make requests?"

Dryly, D-SM5 said, "Unless you make some enormous progress, I doubt you'd get clearance to reincarnate anywhere near that town you terrorized, if that's what you're wondering."

"What! Who said I want to visit that crummy valley! All those mountains and trees? Ugh! No, do you know what kind of place I like? The Greater Cairo metropolitan area. Dry! Sandy! Flat!" said Bill, who detested flat landscapes with all his heart. "Covered in pyramids! Sometimes with my face on them! Plus there's the Nile! I love the Nile! I love being in the Nile! I'd spend all my time in the Nile if I could! I've had some loser ex-friends say that living your whole life in the Nile is an unhealthy coping mechanism to avoid addressing problems in your life, but if you ask me they're just jealous of how amazing my life is—"

"Ready for reincarnation," the technician said. "Proceed?"

D-SM5 left its seat, hovering closer to the glass to catch Paingoreous's attention. "Are you ready?"

"Sure," said Paingoreous, who clearly wasn't certain what he was claiming to be ready for.

"Proceed," D-SM5 said. Bill fell silent, paying close attention to how the technician began the reincarnation process.

She clicked a button that said "EXECUTE" (gruesome), clicked through a couple more confirmation screens, and then the faint background hum grew to a rumble and the magical stars glowed brighter. "Ten seconds," she said. "Nine... eight... seven..."

"Hey!" Bill shouted through the glass. "Friendly tip for Earth! Humans love when you fly into their eyeballs! You should do that!"

D-SM5 rounded on Bill, glowing furiously at him. (Maybe it was Bill's imagination, but he thought Jessica looked amused. Worth it.)

The soon-to-be caterpillar formerly known as Paingoreous stared in confusion at Bill. "Okay," he said—and then there was a bright flash of light.

He let out an awful wail of pure soul-rending agony.

When the light faded, he was gone.

The observation room had fallen perfectly silent.

"That's fine," D-SM5 said. "That's—that's normal."

####

Every once in a while, the Theraprism got something right. It was one of the few big government-sponsored "respectable" institutions that didn't make a fuss about how Bill ate. They just let him go to the cafeteria, strip down, unpeel his exoskeleton, and hang out with the photosynthesizers for half an hour or so in the corner under the grow lights. No gasps of horror or screams of outrage—not from the staff anyway; some of the patients took a bit to get used to it when they were new. It was a refreshing change.

On the other hand, even though they were willing to turn a couple lights high enough to melt most mortals' eyeballs when Bill was feeding, he never left feeling truly energized. The grow lights were designed for species with leaves and solar panels; they weren't designed to fuel up a god made of energy. A few bright lightbulbs didn't measure up to raw starlight.

He figured there wasn't any point in complaining. As much as he hated feeling like a gas tank trying to burn a dust mote for fuel, he knew that they knew that long before he even reached 1% of his usual power, he'd be strong enough to vaporize the Theraprism with the snap of a finger.

When he'd had his daily dose of light, he folded shut, redressed, and drifted over to the actual food for dessert. He grabbed a bottle of an allegedly "lemon" nigh-flavorless clear soda—this would do—and hovered toward the exit.

The cafeteria monitor stationed in the door elbowed her way in front of Bill. "Ahem."

"What?"

"You know the rules. No food outside the cafeteria."

"What! This isn't food, it's a soda. Beverages aren't food, everyone knows that." The monitor didn't budge. Bill tried whining. "C'mooon, I got injured in the void today. Look at this!" He gestured demonstratively at his splints. "Look how much pain I'm in!"

The Solitary Wellness Void made this cafeteria monitor uncomfortable. She'd never said so directly, but she tended to turn a blind eye when patients who'd just come out of the SWV were more aggressive than usual or tried to sneak extra desserts. One time when Bill had come out of a week in the SWV, she'd wordlessly slipped him a couple of packets of low-sodium fear sauce, a condiment usually distributed exclusively to the obligate phobophages in the ward. "Besides, it's my birthday! I'm a birthday triangle! You wouldn't deny a birthday triangle a soda, right?"

"Is it really your birthday?"

"Heck if I know. It could be. I don't know it isn't."

She was trying not to smile. "Fine. Just one time. Don't let anyone catch you with it and finish it before you're back in your cell."

"You got it, toots." Bill glided past her.

He slipped from the cafeteria into the nurse's office before his guards could catch sight of his illicit drink. "Hey, bartender! I'm here for my nightcap."

The nurse prepared Bill's evening battery of drugs. He bent his straw into a fun zigzag—honestly it was really more of a sad N shape—slurped down half the eyedrops, and opened his soda to refill his cup.

The nurse looked over at the hiss of the cap opening. "Hey! Hey—"

"It's just soda!" Bill protested. "The cafeteria monitor said it was fine! Besides, what's a little soda gonna do? Nullify all seven of my antipsychotics before I reach my cell?" (Bill had overheard the nurse grumbling to a colleague about the amount of antipsychotics he was on. They thought it was utterly excessive, considering that they'd had no evidence the drugs were doing anything but making him more erratic—which was something, because Bill had seen patients near drooling catatonia from their meds without any of the nurses questioning their current dosage. Conversely, the docs thought Bill's odd biology meant they needed to give him more if they wanted any hope of impacting him.) "Come on. It's not even caffeinated!"

The nurse took the soda bottle to check the ingredient list, then relented. "Fine. I suppose it won't do any harm."

"You're a peach." Bill topped off his cup, poured the rest of the soda over his eye, crushed the bottle, and consumed it too.

"The plastic probably isn't good for you, though."

"I like the way it melts in the back of my throat."

As he drank his medicated soda and got escorted back to his cell, he lazily drifted back and forth in the hall as far as the guards would let him go, dawdling more than usual—he knew they hated it when he dawdled, but they knew he hated spending one second more in his cell than necessary and grudgingly put up with a little lollygagging to keep the peace. But their tolerance ran out in the max security hall as Bill slowed down even further near The Beast's cell. The guard behind Bill pushed him. "Hurry up." 

"Hey!" Bill wobbled off path and stumbled into the wall, spilling some of his drink. "What's your problem!"

"You stopped moving."

"I did not! I'm just taking my time! Enjoying the weather out here."

"Well, take less time."

"Ugh, fine. Didn't realize you had plans I'm keeping you from." Bill rolled his eye and kept moving.

"Hold it!"

Bill froze. He turned around. The guard was pointing at a streak of clear fluid that had spilled from Bill's cup and rolled down the door. His bones frosted over.

"You dropped a pill," the guard said.

Bill's gaze focused on the circular soap-green tablet on the floor. "Are you kidding?! Aren't the other twelve enough?"

"No exceptions, Cipher."

"You don't expect me to eat it off the floor!"

"Do you want to go all the way back to the nurse's office for another?"

Bill groaned in frustration. "Fine!" He snatched it up, wiped it off on the guard's sleeve, and popped it in his mouth. The guard raised a fist; Bill bared his fangs; and after a tense moment, the guard backed down first. The Theraprism had taken nearly every other power from Bill, but it couldn't take his teeth—and though he knew the guards would win any fight, Bill could make it hurt.

They returned him to his room; Bill handed over his cup; they checked to make sure his cup was empty, inspected his mouth, and locked him in.

He hoped they wouldn't notice that half his pills had stuck in the zig-zag bend of the opaque white straw.

He hoped they wouldn't notice The Beast's tongue thrusting through his food slot to lap up the spilled soda that was running down his door and over the bright red "NO SUGAR ALLOWED" sign.

His entire plan hinged on it.

####

Bill was drawing on the wall with his scant art supplies when he felt reality ripple around him, like the wave in a still pool when someone new quietly slides into the water. He looked up from his work. It was happening.

There were several thuds; then a crash; and then the peal of a prison alarm piercing the air. The alarm melted into shrill dolphin-like laughter, and then the frenetic staccato of a hyper speed dance song that threatened to fracture Bill's internal organs. He shuddered as the sound tore at his wound like freezing ice crystals expanding a crack in a boulder.

But he rose into the air and turned to face the door, ready.

Just in time for the door to vanish. The Theraprism melted away like mist in the sunlight—and oh, the sunlight was glorious. The wide open sky pulsed maddening colors so vivid that the faraway rainbows looked monotone in comparison; the land consisted of rolling hills of candy-coated tongues and stomachs and muscles, the paws of enormous buried corpses thrusting up into the sky, the crevasses between burial mounds running with artificially-flavored saliva. It was Bill's kind of place. He wished he had time to hang around.

Before him, orange fur matted with a fine dust of powdery sugar, wild eyes contracted to pinpricks, stood The Beast.

"You did it, you beautiful monster!" Bill shrieked with laughter. "I knew you'd come through!"

The Beast rumbled, "Em deerf evah uoy."

"You're welcome! You can return the favor later! Me, I have somewhere to be." While The Beast was asserting his personal reality on top of the Theraprism's idea of reality, none of the Theraprism's walls or doors existed. Bill wasn't sure exactly how far The Beast's radius of influence extended, except that it was at least far enough to get him out of the maximum security hall—but he had to move now, before the guards rallied to sedate The Beast. Bill slipped a finger into the band of his ankle bracelet and found that under the influence of The Beast's physics, the stiff plastic stretched like a warm rubber band. He tugged it off and tossed it aside. "Seeya, pal!"

But The Beast held up a paw, blocking Bill before he could zip off. "Noob ym tpecca," The Beast said. "Hself ym emusnoc."

"Oooh. Woww." Bill looked at The Beast's candy paw. "Oh, man. Generous offer! You have no idea how tempting it is to take a taste, but I've really gotta get somewhere, and I've gotta be at least sober enough to pull that off..."

"Emusnoc," The Beast insisted. "Hsur ragus eht fo ssendam gnilims citatsce eht ni em nioj. Rehtegot srorroh letsap dna serusaelp kcis hcus wonk lliw ew. Evarg lufituaeb ym ni em htiw tor."

Bill stared again at the paw. The tip of his tongue slipped out beneath his eye to lick hungrily at his waterline. When was the last time he'd been on something that felt good? "Oh, what the heck!" He took The Beast's paw. "I can do this buzzed! How much damage can one little lick do, anyway?"

####

The guard heaved open the maximum security hall's door. The floor was covered in tacky pools of neon candy and removed ankle monitors. "It's just like we feared," the guard shouted into a walkie-talkie, glancing quickly through each cell door's window. "Every single max security patient escaped under The Beast's reality-altering field."

The guard stopped at the sight of neon yellow and orange, peering through the window at the triangle flopped flat on the ground and surrounded by powdery pink sugar.

"Well," the guard said, "all of them except Cipher."

Through the walkie-talkie, D-SM5 tiredly said, "He licked the paw, didn't he."

"Looks like it, boss."

D-SM5 groaned. "All right! Positive thinking! That's the second biggest threat in the ward already accounted for! Silver lining to Mr. Cipher's substance use issues. Assist in securing the others."

####

The good news was that The Beast seemed happy to frolic randomly around the Theraprism rather than head toward the exit, forcing the other escapees to follow along to remain under his reality-altering protection rather than get stranded in small rooms and locked-down halls. The bad news was that his meandering route let him pick up more and more revelers. After an hour, only a third of the max security patients had been re-captured and dragged back to their cells, and twice as many medium security patients had joined the riot. 

A-AOX4 was on hand in the maximum security hall to supervise as the guards brought in super-powered escapees. Most of them came back loopy on either The Beast's toxins or on the sedative that had been injected to keep them calm. A-AOX4 was checking them for awareness of their surroundings—name, where are you, when are you, why are you here—as each one was locked back in their cell.

And each time it passed by Bill's cell, it glanced in, concerned.

Bill had been almost pleasant when he'd come out of the Solitary Wellness Void—maybe after all those sessions in isolation he was finally ready to be more of a team player. And D-SM5 had said that he'd been unusually well-behaved and attentive during the reincarnation. A-AOX4 had hoped their most surly patient was finally opening up. It would be a shame if this incident with The Beast resulted in his new progress backsliding.

Plus, it took a heavy dose of anything to impact Bill at all, much less knock him out cold. He'd already had to go to the nurse earlier today; what if he needed medical attention?

So after locking up the latest subdued prisoner, A-AOX4 said to one of the guards, "Take over monitoring incoming patients. I'm checking on Cipher."

It unlocked the door and hovered into the room. "Cipher?"

No response. He was plastered flat to the floor.

"Bill?" It floated lower to check his condition. 

He was paper.

Paper meticulously colored in with yellow marker and folded into a triangle; scraps of paper colored black, carefully torn into hand and feet shapes, and shoved in the sleeves and pants of his prison uniform.

A-AOX4 lifted up the paper. On the other side was Bill's "Be a TRY-angle!" poster. He'd written across it, "IS THIS TRYING HARD ENOUGH FOR YOU?"

It turned toward the door—and discovered Bill had filled the wall with a drawing of himself making an obscene gesture, with a word bubble that read, "GIVE MY REGARDS TO THE AX! And tell Jessica I said bye xoxo"

It zoomed out into the hallway and grabbed its walkie-talkie. "Director SM5! Cipher's escaped his cell! He left a decoy! He's not with The Beast, we don't know where he is!"

There was a moment of dead air. And then the director growled, "I think I have an idea."

####

Trying to keep his giggles as quiet as possible, Bill looped through the Theraprism's halls, drifting between The Beast's rolling fields of hard candy corpses and the Theraprism's rigid monotone halls. What had he been worried about! Getting hopped up on astralplanar sugar before escaping his cell had been a great idea! It gave him instant shortcuts through half the walls! And he could handle a little buzz like this! He was totally in control of his actions and knew exactly what he—

How long had he been flying the wrong direction? He turned around. Wow was he high, he could barely focus on anything but all the colors. He wondered if The Beast's toxins had any weird interactions with his meds.

He was lucky The Beast had decided to dawdle around the Dimensional Tyrants Ward: here at the far end of the Theraprism, there were no signs of crisis beyond the sealed doors indicating the facility was under lockdown—and once he was outside a high security ward, there were plenty of cracks, gaps, and vents that Bill was thin enough to slide through. He hadn't even seen a guard since he'd left his cell. By the time he reached the reincarnation room, The Beast's landscape was fading out and the sugar crash headache was fading in, but the facility was still on lockdown and no one seemed to be looking for Bill. He slipped beneath the locked door and powered up the console to the reincarnation machine.

He skipped straight to the reincarnation program and checked the box that said, yes, the patient's brain had been washed. He paused when a warning pop-up blocked the screen. The technician hadn't gotten a pop-up. He had to read over the two-sentence warning three times before he understood what he was looking at. The soul sanitization routine hadn't been run recently, was he sure the patient's memory was erased—ugh, yes. He irritably clicked the confirmation and hoped that would be the last of it.

Bill quickly selected Earth and dimension 46'\; he tabbed past the coordinates and date, and they both automatically filled in "DEFAULT." D-SM5 had said the computer would make a "random" decision if you didn't plug in a time and place, but the staff didn't know Earth like Bill did. If he left the time and place up to the whims of fate, then something as weird as a trillion-year-old alien chaos god escaping a criminal insane asylum to spontaneously generate as a fully grown mortal would be sucked straight into the weirdest place and time on Earth. Gravity Falls: August, 2012. Weirdmageddon. He was willing to bet his life on it.

He was betting his life on it.

After that, with any luck, he'd be able to shed his new body like any other puppet and return to his castle in the sky. If for some reason he couldn't get out of it, he'd only need to pull a couple of magic tricks outside a normal mortal's capabilities to catch his past self's attention, find a way to prove his identity—heck, with any luck, they'd be seeing through each other's eyes and that would instantly confirm it—warn his past self about the Pines' treachery, prevent his own death, save Weirdmageddon, restructure the universe in his image, and rule his new party paradise as god-king for all eternity. Easy.

He scrolled down the list of available creatures, looking for something that would be easy to reach the Fearamid and prove his intelligence with—something with vocal cords that could speak eye-bat would be useful, it'd save him a lot of trouble if he could just shout at his sentinels in their own language and startle them into listening—but, to his surprise, the first useful species he found was humans, down amongst the species that had received a single-digit number of reincarnations from the Theraprism. Really, humans? They allowed that?

Over the blaring alarm, a voice made an announcement. He completely tuned it out—and only realized a moment after it ended that he'd heard his own name. They knew he'd escaped.

Bill didn't have time to search for anything better. He selected humanity.

He tabbed past dozens of features he could choose from for his body—default default default default—who cared what the body peed out of, he wasn't keeping the thing long enough to fill its bladder! He clicked open the advanced settings—there, spontaneous generation! He hoped this thing wouldn't drop him on the sidewalk as a baby, but usually when a human suddenly popped into existence, it was an adult sculpted from clay or something, right? He'd be fine! He checked the box for spontaneous generation.

He got another error message. He groaned. He wasn't sober enough for this.

Something about spontaneous generation being banned on Earth after 1859, is he willing to assume the liability if the patient generates after—yeah sure whatever, he clicked yes. Another pop-up prompted him for the digital signature of the person assuming liability. He typed in D-SM5's name.

As soon as he clicked enter, another error message popped up. "What!!"

He flinched at the sound of a muffled pneumatic hiss. Outside, somebody had unlocked the doors to this hallway. The alarm was still blaring; the Theraprism wasn't coming off lockdown. That meant whoever had unlocked the hall was coming for him.

"Focusss." He skimmed the new warning. Something about humans being on a list of species for which spontaneous generation was restricted—what loser had written a law about that! Who cared if a fully-formed, brand-new human popped out of thin air in the middle of town! What about Bill's wants?! He checked another box YES HE'S SURE HE WANTS TO SPONTANEOUSLY GENERATE A HUMAN YOU MONSTER and pounded enter.

Another pop-up. It wanted to know on which god's authority the spontaneous generation had been authorized.

Bill froze. Why did it need to know. Would it check? A machine that could reincarnate a soul was probably also a machine that could shoot off a prayer. Or was Bill supposed to have some kind of divine authorization code? Which gods were even allowed to authorize that kind of thing? He didn't know which stupid legislative body had made this stupid law or what their stupid definition of a god was! Gods weren't even real, they were just stupid, arrogant, stuck-up jerks who were powerful enough to trick people into thinking they were important! Like Bill! What name were they looking for?!

He heard voices in the hallway. He darted over to the door, slid his fingers through the seams around the doorframe to crush the latching mechanism so it couldn't be opened, and darted back. That wouldn't hold them long; he knew from experience that the guards could bust down the doors in these low security wings without much difficulty.

"Bill Cipher!" That was D-SM5. It had come personally? In any other circumstance, he'd be flattered. "Open up immediately!"

"Has that ever worked?" A god, a god, a god... his eye caught on the bas relief at the back of the next room. If there was any god this place would accept orders from... The guards were ramming the door; the bending metal groaned. He typed "THE AXOLOTL" and hit enter.

The button grayed out but the pop-up didn't go away. The screen froze. "What." Bill tried clicking again. The cursor turned into one of those little spinning balls that meant the computer was quietly having a stroke. "No no no no—"

D-SM5 hollered, "You know what the consequences will be if you don't—"

"I'm not listeniiing to yooou!"

"You're only going to hurt yourse—"

Dropping his voice to a demonic boom to drown out the director, Bill recited, "'I believe that on the first night I went to Gatsby's house I was one of the few guests who had actually been invited! People were not—" There was a shriek of tearing metal, and then a bright glow behind Bill as D-SM5 peered through the gap in the door. Bill started talking faster, "'Were not invited they went there they got into automobiles which bore them out to Long Island and somehow—'"

The pop-up disappeared. The cursor returned to normal. The box next to spontaneous generation was checked. Bill stared for a split second, then quickly closed out the advanced settings, scrolled to the bottom of the page, and hit "EXECUTE."

Someone blasted the door out of its frame; based on the blinding glow that accompanied the blast, Bill suspected that wasn't one of the guards, but D-SM5 itself. He frantically clicked through the next two confirmations, flung a couple of folding chairs toward D-SM5 and its thugs, and dove beneath the door to the next room. Ten seconds.

"Cancel the reincarnation!" D-SM5 snapped.

A guard ran to the console. (What if they saw where Bill had gone? They could probably guess the planet, but would the computer keep records of his destination, what his new body looked like—) "I don't see a cancel! I don't think—"

"Then get him off the altar!"

Five seconds. Please spawn as an adult and not a baby, please spawn as an adult and not a baby, please— Bill hadn't broken the door between the observation room and the altar; the guards easily unlocked it. "No no no—!"

"Don't let him esc—!"

Three seconds. An impossibly bright light shone down on Bill. He reflexively peeled open his exoskeleton to accept it. LIGHT—oh, he felt even more alive than the time he'd stolen a bottle of stimulants from the nurse station, ground them up, and snorted them off Mrs. Mirrorcube's back. His eye widened, taking in as much free energy as he could—and then he focused his gaze through the window on the console, focusing the infinite light into a laser powerful enough to instantly melt through the window and explode the computer. The guards fell back, trying to shield their tender mortal flesh from the fury of Bill's fire. Enjoy the blisters.

D-SM5 bellowed, "Bill Cipher, you mo—!"

"CATCH ME IF YOU CAN, SUCKA!" He could feel his body ripping apart, cracking open at the wound. It hurt, but not the hurt of dying; it was the euphoric hurt of spaghettification, of being infinitely sucked beyond a beautiful event horizon. Bill's triumphant cackle filled the air—

—and then the room was silent and dark, and Bill was gone.

####

(If you're new here: I posted this as a one shot because I think we could all use a little Bill escaping from Theraprism, yeah? However it's ALSO part of my ongoing Bill-stuck-in-a-human-body fic I'm currently editing for TBOB compatibility. So, if you enjoyed this and want to see where post-reincarnation Bill goes, check out the fic!! And if you DON'T want to read the rest of the fic, I hope you enjoyed the one shot and I'd love to hear your thoughts.

If you do check out the main fic be forewarned it's only 100% TBOB compatible up to chapter 6. After that it is, bizarrely, 98% TBOB compatible, because somehow I accidentally wrote a fic that lines up with the book so well that I'm legit worried people could use TBOB to work out fic spoilers. But I still need to edit the remaining 2%.

If you're NOT new here: hey gang this is the new chapter 6!!! I finished editing this chapter about fifteen minutes before post time so it's not as polished as my usual chapters, but I hope it didn't read that way. Anyway, I look forward to hearing what y'all think!)

[notherpuppet]

What is your opinion of AI? Personally, I think that like any technology, it depends on the user and their intentions, but that is just me.

What about you?

1. Theft

The most central issues with AI as it is now is that the programs were trained/are trained with STOLEN art. Stolen visual art, music, writing, etc.

The vast majority of what it has been fed is stolen. As in, the artists behind the work were not ever given the chance to consent nor be compensated for their works being used to feed the machine.

This reason alone is straight up copyright infringement and the optimist in me does believe the long arm of the law is gonna shut these programs down for that. But the long arm of the law is looooooong, and the technology is disrupting people’s livelihoods now. Unlike robots or machinery that was invented and built to expedite assembly line/factory work, this technology is only functional by using other people’s labor. If we didn’t live in a society where you have to “earn” your right to live in it, then this would still be wrong, but it probably wouldn’t be such an existential problem.

There are active class action lawsuits for infringement of copyright. And the private sector has begun filing suits and I’m quite certain they’ll win because again—it’s simply theft. These companies did not make licensing contracts, they’re not paying royalties to the artists they stole from.

So if you consider using ai that generates “art” (whether it is visual, music, writing, etc.) please consider stopping immediately, as you would actively be benefiting from theft (which is wrong imo!!!!)

2. AI in its present form dishonors the human spirit

In my personal relationship with AI technology, I do not use it to generate ideas or ‘art’. I detest the notion to use technology in that way tbh. AI is a form of technology, so it’s difficult to break it down into every specific use it actually has. But here’s an attempt; no to generative AI, okay to certain AI.

There are kinds of AI programming in the programs I use (such as features that help you color in a shape quickly or make a perfect circle). This is useful tech (that requires zero IP theft) and I like it because it helps me by taking care of tedious tasks so that I have more time to spend in the creative and drawing processes. But I still choose the colors, I still draw the images, I still write the stories.

I think the way AI is used right now with a focus on “creative thinking” (where it’s not actually creating anything it’s just churning out other people’s *stolen* ideas and practice) is a total waste. AI being used as an assistant to help humans find information easily can be/has been swell. And requires no theft :D

But for whatever reason (greed, capitalism are my guesses), tech companies are leaning into a direction to replace creativity with AI?? I imagine the people behind this view the practice of art as tedious work because it is challenging??

But the beauty of art and the practice of it is that it allows humans to experience and overcome challenges with little to no stakes.

When society determines that is not a valuable use of human time, then I think we’ll all be significantly more miserable. If we allow a machine to be “creative” and leave us to only experience challenges with stakes—like survival (rent, putting food on the table).

So here are some examples of how I feel about AI uses;

AI to translate languages, find resources, discern malicious malware/spam from harmless messages > 👍🏽

AI to generate ideas/art for you > 🤢 Why??????? Why would you want that…that’s the most exceptional part of the human experience and you relinquish it to a bot trained on stolen ideas? 😭

[comicaurora]

I'm not a writer whatsoever and am currently listening to the OSPod Publishing special, and was really intruiged by your description of your character-driven stories as being similar to a DnD campaign. Could you please elaborate a bit on what you mean by "it's good when the characters surprise you"? It's likely an obvious writer thing, but I would've thought that an author wouldn't be surprised by where their story or characters go since, well, they're the one writing it. Regardless the comic is amazing so however confusing your process may be to me personally it's clearly effective

It's a little bit difficult to explain!

A lot of the writing process is just sitting down and writing it - laying out the setpieces, describing what the characters do, writing and tweaking the dialogue for impact. But in my experience, the vast majority of the REAL writing process happens internally, and large chunks of it are out of conscious reach of the writer. This unreachable space is where new ideas form, and why no writer has ever been able to answer the question "where do you get your ideas from?"

This is why a writer can beat their head against writers block for weeks at a time, then wake up one day with a solution and the entire next chunk of storyline fully formed. My dad calls this phenomenon "the better writer in the back of your head." A lot of the creative process doesn't happen in the front of your mind, where your ego and your inner voice live. Most of it is deeper down. This is how your mind is capable of surprising you in any context, including dreams or unexpected emotional reactions - your mind is a lot larger than just the parts you can consciously feel.

When I put a character in a situation, I can make a conscious decision for what they'll do and then execute it, but I can also listen for ideas bubbling out of that inaccessible region of my mind. Most character ideas start out as a small set of conscious decisions on the part of the writer - "I'll make him a classical hero with a strong sense of justice" or "she'll be a strong but weary leader putting on a brave face" or "I'm playing an edgy rogue with a dark past" etc etc, quick and basic elevator pitches. But the characters come alive when they're allowed to grow down into the inaccessible parts of the mind, where consciousness gives way to emotions bubbling up from even deeper processes. Once the characters are allowed to start feeling things about their story - like "maybe that classical hero doesn't actually feel great about the lord they serve" or "the weary leader has an endless wellspring of vengeful rage to keep her going when she falters," more creative ideas for their next move start bubbling up. Things that don't flow logically from their elevator pitch, but make sense for the character that grows out of that pitch as they're allowed to engage with the world and story around them.

The way I build characters puts a focus on how they're feeling in any given situation, which is completely separate from what I, the writer of the plot, need them to do to move the plot in the direction I was planning. So sometimes I'll be writing something, and a little bubble of inspiration will pop up and let me know that, unexpectedly, this situation is really getting to one of the characters. And I can choose to keep them on track, or I can let their internal compass take over and see what makes the most sense to them at that moment of the story.

Characters are not real people, and they aren't as large or complex as a human mind, but in my experience, if you build a character solidly enough and give yourself room to play, they will grow down into your subconscious wellspring of creativity, and your mind will volunteer ideas to you using their voice. You don't need to use them, but it's very useful to cultivate them, because sometimes those ideas are better than anything you could consciously stick together in the public-spacing front of your mind.

[kitten4sannie]

ᴅᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇ

ᴇᴅɢɪɴɢ/ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛɪᴏɴɪꜱᴍ ➠ ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ/ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ

pairing: cat hybrid! wooyoung x bunny hybrid! reader (fem) x bear hybrid! jongho

genre: abo, hybrid au, smut

summary: your loyal boyfriends are there to help when your first heat comes around.

w.c: 2.7k

warnings: cute little established poly relationship, dom! woojong, bunny in heat! reader, voyuerism/exhibitionism, subspace, edging, dirty talk, lots of praise, one instance of degradation, pet names, oral (receiving/giving), one singular pussy slap, cockwarming, kissing, cum swapping, nasty car sex, sloppy seconds aka a nice cock swap, squirting, knotting, creampies, slipped a little breeding in there for one sec

a/n: abo and hybrid aus make me clinically insane….. something happened to me during the writing process of this you guys like i might need an exorcism ???? yeahh idkw to say except enjoy this horny mess ^^ <3

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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

Sitting in the middle seat of your boyfriends’ pick up truck was always fun. You could cuddle and kiss the both of them all you wanted, change the radio to whatever station you wanted, and best of all, you had the best view of the beautiful countryside right in front of you. Usually you were bouncing in your seat a bit, your bunny tail twitching from the excitement of sharing your simple, though joyous day with the loves of your life, but this time around, you were sitting with your arms wrapped around your waist, your bunny ears hanging at the sides of your head, and biting on your bottom lip, while something that only could be described as a searing hot coil continuously wrapped around your core, causing you to let out a series of disconcerted squeaks. 

“Hey, what’s wrong, lovebun?” Wooyoung asked concernedly, his black, fluffy ears perking up at the sound of your squeaks, looking at you through his peripheral, still trying to keep his eyes on the road ahead. 

“Are you feeling okay?” Jongho spoke up from the other side, placing a hand securely on your thigh, only causing you to make even more small noises, the searing heat inside your body growing stronger by the second. 

“I feel weird, like I’m gonna melt,” you whined out to the both of them, sliding a bit further down in your seat, causing your skirt to hike up further and further, the overwhelming sweet, flowery scent of your arousal encompassing your boyfriends’ noses, causing Wooyoung to jerk the car to the left a bit, and Jongho’s hand to involuntarily squeeze around your soft thigh. “What’s wrong with me?” 

Wooyoung and Jongho shared a look in the rearview mirror, neither of them having to say anything to know just exactly what was going on with their dear bunny girlfriend. It was bunny breeding season, and this particular cat and bear hybrid were more than willing to take part in it. 

“You’re in heat, sweetheart,” Jongho replied softly, pressing his lips onto one of your bunny ears, giving it a few gentle kisses, his hand moving further up your thigh. “You’ll be okay. We just have to take care of you. Do you want that?” 

“Yes, please, baby bear. I’ll do whatever I need to…to make this stop…” You unconsciously spread your thighs open, watching with hazy eyes as Jongho lifted up your skirt to expose your bare, glistening cunt underneath, the scent of your arousal triggering the both of your boyfriends to begin drooling like a couple of mindless predators about to swallow up their prey. 

Without much control over his actions, Jongho pulled his seat belt off to fit himself in the vast, empty space below your seat so that he was right in between your thighs, pressing his nose against your cunt, rubbing it against your clit, enveloping himself in the sweet scent of your heat. “Mm, my baby bun smells so sweet…Can I have a taste?” 

“Please, Jjongie.” You nodded eagerly, letting your legs hang over his shoulders, your hands sifting through his soft brown hair, playing with his cute little bear ears for your own comfort.

Just as Jongho buried his face in your pussy, Wooyoung reached his free hand down to rub two fingers against your clit, occasionally looking away from the road to see just how wet you were getting for them, watching Jongho eagerly lap up your slick like he was a bear with an unlimited supply of honey, none of you caring if a nearby driver happened to see what you were up to. 

“Feels so good, I’m really gonna melt,” you cried out, your thighs starting to squeeze around Jongho’s head, causing him to hold securely onto them, keeping his big brown eyes focused on yours as he dragged his agile tongue from your hole up to your clit, Wooyoung’s fingers keeping you spread open for easier access. 

“Are you going to cum all over baby bear’s tongue, lovebun?” Wooyoung asked near one of your bunny ears, playfully nipping at it with his kitty fangs, squeezing your clit in between two fingers when Jongho slipped his tongue fully inside your pulsing hole. 

“Yes, yes, yes…!” you gasped, beginning to forcefully drive your cunt into Jongho’s face, accidentally bumping into his nose, making him wince. 

“Hey, good bunnies aren’t greedy, are they?” Wooyoung kept his fingers squeezed around your clit, giving Jongho a look that made him stop in his tracks, simply breathing in the warm scent of your arousal, watching your cunt clench around nothing. “Good bunnies are grateful for what they get, right?” 

“Yes, I’m sorry, Youngie,” you whimpered, tears forming inside your eyes, just on the cusp of orgasm, but not able to get there with the way your boyfriends kept you in limbo for their shared pleasure. “I’ll be good.” You reached down to gently rub Jongho’s nose, pouting at him. “I’m sorry, Jjongie…” 

“It’s okay, baby,” Jongho reassured, pressing a few kisses and licks to your inner thigh, before going back to lap at your cunt, his hot tongue practically melting against your wet folds. “I forgive you…” 

You looked at Wooyoung who grabbed your chin as soon as he stopped at a red light and pressed a deep, though quick kiss to your lips, making sure to nip at your bottom lip before he pulled away. “Be good and cum, pretty girl,” he sighed, giving your cunt a sudden harsh smack just as Jongho plugged you back up with his tongue. 

All of a sudden, a couple hybrids in a car nearby began to wolf whistle, honk their car horn, and drool over the sight of you getting filled up by your boyfriend’s tongue, while your other boyfriend stroked one of your soft bunny ears. 

“They’re watching meee, oh my god,” you cried out, barely able to look at the drooling alphas for a few seconds before shame and arousal overtook your body, Jongho’s tongue rubbing profusely against your tight inner walls, Wooyoung’s fingers still playing with your throbbing clit.

“It’s not everyday you see a pretty little bunny in heat getting devoured by her baby bear boyfriend, you know?” Wooyoung chuckled softly, nipping at your ear, making direct eye contact with the alphas to establish dominance. “Cum, baby bun…Show them who you belong to…” 

A sensitive little bunny like yourself could simply not take this much pleasure at once without squirting all over yourself, especially while being spectated by a few naughty alphas nearby, so that’s exactly what you did, crying out and grabbing desperately onto the truck’s seats all the while, tears escaping your eyes. 

“What a good bunny,” Wooyoung praised you, nodding his head in approval, hitting his foot on the gas as soon as the light turned green, his stiff cock pressing painfully up into his pants, trying as hard as he could to keep his eyes on the road instead of your pretty, shuddering body. 

“The best bunny,” Jongho agreed, slurping as much squirt into his mouth as he could, before sitting further up onto his knees, reaching up to bring your flushed face towards his, pressing his glistening lips against yours, sharing his spit and your arousal with you. 

Once Jongho pulled away, he smiled sweetly at you, watching you blink hazily at him and your other alpha boyfriend, idly licking your slick from his lips. “How are you feeling now, baby?” 

“Need cock,” you requested simply, the burning desire you felt from within somehow even stronger than before, a wildfire blazing away from within your core. 

Jongho looked to Wooyoung, who looked back to him, the both of them knowing what needed to be done in order to satiate their needy bunny girlfriend. 

“Why don’t you keep your mouth busy for now, bun? Hm? Does a mouthful of Youngie’s cock sound good for now?” Wooyoung suggested sweetly, unzipping his pants with one hand, freeing his pulsing length and allowing it to smack up into his lower abdomen. 

You began drooling as if on command, your pupils growing larger at the sight of Wooyoung’s pretty pink cock just waiting for you to slobber all over it. 

Jongho chuckled to himself, reaching up behind your head and gently guiding your head down onto Wooyoung’s cock, watching it slowly disappear inside your mouth and throat. 

Your ears perked up at the pleased moans your kitty boyfriend let out, wanting to giggle from the feeling of his fluffy tail wrapping around your nearest arm, feeling his heavy cock settle comfortably inside your throat. You just let it sit there, the occasional pulses of Wooyoung’s length causing a new wave of slick to drip out of your needy hole, which Jongho had no problem plugging up with two thick fingers, making you let out a few muffled moans, sending delightful vibrations down to the base of Wooyoung’s cock. 

Wooyoung turned down onto a dirt road that was surrounded by tall oak trees, humming to himself, running his fingers through your soft hair, giving Jongho a smile inside the rearview mirror, who moved your ears out of the way to get a better view of you warming Wooyoung’s cock with your willing mouth. “You’re being such a good girl for us, baby. I think you deserve to be fucked dumb by the both of us, don’t you think?” 

“Mm-hmmm,” you agreed with your mouth full, unable to keep yourself from rigorously bobbing your head up and down, feeling Wooyoung’s cock slide in and out of your tight throat, his sudden whimpers filling you up with pride. 

“Oh, you naughty girl, you’re gonna make me cum before I get to stuff you full, f-uuck,” Wooyoung exhaled, his thighs tightening up, his fingers clenching up around the steering wheel, swerving onto the side of the road just in time for his knot to form, locking you in place on his cock. “Gonna take this knot, yeah?” 

“She’s a good bunny, of course she’s going to take it…” Licking his lips, Jongho held your bunny ears back with one hand, giving both him and Wooyoung a good view of your spit-stained face just as his knot broke, hot cum pouring into your mouth and down your throat. 

You slowly pulled off of him, breathing hard, a bit of his cum dripping down your chin, your face flushed beyond measure. “Yummy…” you whispered, just as Wooyoung grabbed your chin, his kitty claws pressing into your cheeks, his tongue slipping into your mouth. 

Just as Wooyoung got a taste of his bitter cum, Jongho pulled him away from you and got a taste of it for himself, allowing you to watch your alpha boyfriends groan and growl into each other’s open mouths. You could only watch them swap spit and cum for so long, before you became ravenous once again, unbuckling Jongho’s pants and climbing onto his lap, your cunt fully swallowing up his cock just in time for you to begin rigorously bouncing on it. 

Jongho began to moan profusely into Wooyoung’s mouth, opening his teary eyes to watch your kitty boyfriend still sucking on his tongue, able to whine, “Feels so good, bunny, keep going,” once the other alpha let him go, but only once he playfully nipped at his bottom lip. 

Dizzy with arousal, Wooyoung reached around you to grab at your hips, forcefully driving you down onto Jongho’s thick, curved cock, letting out a growl of pleasure from watching your face contort with overwhelming pleasure. “That’s it, baby, that’s fucking it.” 

“So good, it’s so good…!” You wrapped your arms securely around Jongho’s neck, feeling his arms close securely around your waist, his hips pistoning rapidly into your clenching cunt, the heaviness inside your core dropping suddenly, your arousal squirting all over your bear boyfriend and the seat below.   

“Such a slutty bunny, cumming so quick from getting stuffed with alpha cock,” Wooyoung groaned to himself, using his abundant pre-cum to slick up his stiff length, dragging his hand along it just enough to satiate the deep ache inside him, your sweet, sticky pheromones driving him insane. 

“Are you our slutty bunny, baby?” Jongho asked you in between pants, giving you a gummy smile when all you could do was whimper and nod. A few beads of sweat dripped past his temples, leaning his head back against the steamy window of the truck, placing one hand on the small of your back and the other on your lower abdomen just as his knot began to swell up inside you, feeling the outline of his thick cock as he prepared to unload inside you. “Gonna take alpha’s knot inside your bunny cunt?” 

“Y-esssss,” you cried out, tears rolling down your hot cheeks, your fingers squeezing into Jongho’s strong shoulders, your thighs trembling profusely once the thick stream of your alpha’s knot poured into your pulsing cunt. “Oh my god, it’s so good, so hot…” 

Before you could even begin to recover, Jongho sent Wooyoung a satisfied, toothy grin, passing you over to him with ease, so that he could immediately plug you back up with his cock this time around, fucking the other alpha’s hot cum back into your used bunny cunt.

“Is it still good, lovebun? Huh? Gonna take my knot too?” Wooyoung asked you in between huffs, grabbing two handfuls of your ass on each side, taking the time to smack his hands roughly against them before grabbing them again, drilling his cock so deep into you, he was practically slamming into your cervix. 

All you could do was let out whiny moans and garbled nonsensical sentences, your tongue eventually just lolling out of your panting mouth, holding onto Wooyoung with one hand, your other one being held tight by Jongho’s clasped hands, the only thing keeping you grounded in that moment was the way he gently rubbed your knuckles. 

The truck shook vigorously, the windows inside grew more and more foggy, and the air became harder and harder to breathe in, the longer Wooyoung unapologetically rearranged your guts, not stopping for a second, not even when you came all over him, only when he started to feel a familiar heaviness seep into his core, causing him to slow down, rolling his hips up into you, deliberately pulling you down onto his cock, feeling his knot swell up little by little. 

“Want…Youngie’s…knot…” you whimpered softly, gazing at Wooyoung with teary eyes, your bunny ears flopping at the sides of your head, encouraging him and Jongho to begin stroking them along with your hair. 

“That’s a good bunny, such a good girl for me and Jjongie, huh? You want to be filled up nice and deep, don’t you? Want to get full for us soon? Yeah? That sounds good, doesn’t it? You’ll be our pretty bunny wife, all nice and round with our pretty bunny kids, won’t you?” Wooyoung whispered gently into your ear, easing you up and down his slick cock, chuckling softly at your small whines and whimpers, only ceasing his movement when his knot fully formed inside you, stretching your used cunt wide open. 

“I want it all, Youngie, Jjongie, I want it so bad…” You looked to your boyfriends with love in your eyes, tears still rolling down your cheeks, some of them getting wiped up by Jongho’s thumb, a few more getting swiped away by Wooyoung’s sleeve. 

“You’ll have it, baby bun,” Jongho promised softly, pressing a kiss onto the side of your head, rubbing your back in gentle circles, as you slowly took Wooyoung’s load inside your womb. 

“You’ll have whatever you wish, lovebun,” Wooyoung added, kissing your forehead, stroking one of your ears in a loving manner, reaching over to stroke Jongho’s hair, the both of them sharing an equally loving gaze. 

Filled to the brim with cum and pleasure, the strong effects of your heat finally subsided, encouraging you to collapse back into the middle seat between your tired boyfriends. 

All three of you sat there, holding each other’s hands, quietly breathing in one another’s air, looking up past the still slightly foggy windshield to watch as the sun set inside the pretty cotton candy sky, whispering odes of love to each other until your eyes grew heavy. 

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

I’m not sure if you do nsfw words or phrases. But is there something you can post for the writers who need words for sex scenes? Ones that won’t make reader cringe or throw up? And ones that won’t sound repetitive?

110 "Beautiful" Words for Your Sex Scenes

A-E

Agitate - to move with an irregular, rapid, or violent action

Amatory - of, relating to, or expressing sexual love

Ardor - sexual excitement; extreme vigor or energy

Assail - to encounter energetically; to afflict in a manner that threatens to overwhelm

Austere - harsh and threatening in manner

Bemoan - to feel sorry or dissatisfied about

Bestrew - to lie scattered over

Carnal - given to crude bodily pleasures and appetites

Cavernous - suggesting a cavern; composed largely of vascular sinuses and capable of dilating with blood to bring about the erection of a body part

Coax - to gently urge by caressing or flattering

Compulsion - an irresistible persistent impulse to perform an act

Concrete - to become physically firm or solid

Constriction - the act or process of reducing the size or volume of something by pressing

Curvature - a curved surface of an organ

Delectation - delight, enjoyment

Deluge - a great flow of water or of something that overwhelms

Devoir - something one must do because of prior agreement

Dew - moisture especially when appearing in minute droplets

Douse - a heavy drenching

Ecstasy - rapturous delight; a state of being beyond reason and self-control

Enraptured - to fill with delight

Entreat - to make an earnest request; plead

Entwine - to become twisted or twined

Erogenous - of, relating to, or arousing sexual feelings; sexually sensitive

Exult - to be extremely joyful; rejoice

F-O

Fervid - marked by often extreme fervor (i.e., intensity of feeling or expression; intense heat)

Feverish - marked by intense emotion, activity, or instability

Flushed - tinged with red especially in the face (e.g., from physical exertion)

Flutter - to vibrate in irregular spasms

Foment - to promote the growth or development of; rouse, incite

Fragmentize - fragment (i.e., to fall to pieces)

Frisson - a brief moment of emotional excitement; shudder, thrill

Fuse - to come together to form a single unit

Gasp - to catch the breath convulsively and audibly (as with shock)

Gluttony - greedy or excessive indulgence

Harmony - pleasing arrangement of parts

Ichorous - of a thin watery or blood-tinged discharge

Immovable - incapable of being moved

Impetus - stimulation resulting in increased activity

Imprint - to mark by pressure

Impure - lewd, unchaste

Incantation - a written or recited formula of words designed to produce a particular effect

Intensity - extreme degree of strength, force, energy, or feeling

Inundate - overwhelm; overflow

Kindle - to stir up; arouse

Lecherous - given to or suggestive of lechery (i.e., inordinate indulgence in sexual activity; lasciviousness)

Levitating - to rise or float in or as if in the air especially in seeming defiance of gravitation

Licentious - disregarding sexual restraints

Lissome - easily flexed; lithe (i.e., characterized by easy flexibility and grace)

Luscious - sexually attractive; seductive, sexy

Mantra - a statement repeated frequently

Murmur - a soft or gentle utterance

Nectar - something delicious to drink

Nimble - quick and light in motion; agile; responsive, sensitive

Oceanic - vast, great

Overflowing - a flowing over; inundation

P-S

Palpate - to examine by touch

Palpitate - to beat rapidly and strongly; throb

Partake - to take part in or experience something along with others

Pearl - something resembling a pearl; precious

Pining - to yearn intensely and persistently especially for something unattainable

Piquant - agreeably stimulating to the taste; engagingly provocative

Plaint - wail

Plunge - to cause to penetrate or enter quickly and forcibly into something

Propulsion - the action or process of propelling (i.e., to drive forward or onward by means of a force that imparts motion

Pulsate - to throb or move rhythmically; vibrate

Rapacious - ravenous (i.e., very eager or greedy for satisfaction or gratification

Rasp - a rasping sound, sensation, or effect

Relish - enjoyment of or delight in something that satisfies one's tastes, inclinations, or desires

Repine - to long for something

Rhapsody - rapture, ecstasy

Ripple - to have or produce a ripple effect; spread

Salacious - arousing or appealing to sexual desire or imagination

Silken - soft, lustrous; harmonious

Siren - resembling that of a siren; enticing

Slaver - to let saliva or some other substance flow from the mouth

Sluice - to drench with a sudden flow

Sob - to catch the breath audibly in a spasmodic contraction of the throat

Sodden - heavy with or as if with moisture or water; to be soaked

Stirring - marked by much life, movement, or activity

Sublime - to elevate or exalt

Succulent - full of juice; moist and tasty; toothsome

Succumb - to yield to superior strength or force or overpowering appeal or desire

Sumptuous - extremely costly, rich, luxurious, or magnificent

Supple - capable of being bent/folded without creases, cracks, or breaks; able to perform bending/twisting movements with ease

Supplicate - to ask for earnestly and humbly

Surge - to rise and move in waves or billows; swell

Surrender - to give oneself up into the power of another; yield

Svelte - lithe (i.e., easily bent or flexed)

Swirl - to have a twist or convolution

T-Y

Taut - tense; not relaxed; rigid, stiff

Tempestuous - marked by bursts of intense activity

Tenderness - sensitivity to touch or palpation

Throes - pangs, spasms

Thrum - to sound with a monotonous hum

Torrid - ardent, passionate; hot

Undulate - to move in waves; to rise and fall in volume

Unyielding - characterized by lack of softness or flexibility

Unyoke - to take apart; to force apart

Vehement - marked by forceful energy

Vigorous - carried out forcefully and energetically

Vitality - power of enduring

Voluptuous - conducive to or arising from sensuous or sensual gratification

Voracity - the quality or state of being voracious (i.e., ravenous; excessively eager)

Wanton - causing sexual excitement; lustful, sensual

Whet - to make keen or more acute; excite, stimulate

Winded - cause (someone) to have difficulty breathing because of exertion; panting, gasping for breath

Worship - extravagant respect or admiration for or devotion to

Writhe - to move with twists and turns; intertwine

Yearn - to long persistently; to feel tenderness or compassion

Hope you use these words in ways that won't make your readers cringe or throw up, dear Anon! But it's fine if some of them do—as long as you are satiated with your own writing :)

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

[cherriecove]

A Courtship of Politics and Passion (Part 1)

Jacaerys Velaryon x Hightower!Reader

Summary: Cannon divergence, Rhaenyra Targaryen is queen after the Dance of The Dragons. In order to secure peace and ensure her son is able to take his rightful place on the throne after her she decides to make allies out of previous enemies. Cherrie's Note: Hi Guys! thought I would try something new with this one and I am not sure how I feel about it. Please feedback with your opinions! Masterlist | Next Part

The Red Keep was alive with the hum of conversation, the clinking of goblets, and the soft melodies of minstrels playing in the background. Lords and ladies from every corner of the realm were gathered for the royal feast, a display of the Targaryen dynasty's power and grandeur. Long tables draped in crimson and black, the colours of House Targaryen, were laden with exotic dishes from across Westeros and Essos. Golden candelabras cast flickering shadows across the hall, while the walls echoed with laughter and murmurs. Yet, beneath the opulence of the evening, an undeniable tension lingered, weaving through the crowd like an unseen spectre.

At the heart of it all sat Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, her presence unmistakable atop the Iron Throne. The sharp edges of the throne's swords reflected the light, a stark reminder of the power it represented—and the blood that had been spilled to keep it. Rhaenyra, now seasoned by years of rule and the bitter lessons of war, held herself with a regal composure. Her violet eyes, piercing and calculating, swept over the gathered courtiers with the practised gaze of a monarch who had seen both treachery and loyalty in equal measure. Her silver hair, cascading down her back in intricate braids, gleamed under the hall's torchlight. She had fought too hard for her crown to be complacent now.

Beside her stood Jacaerys Velaryon, her eldest son and heir, the future of the Targaryen line. His face, usually marked by the confidence of youth, was clouded with a grim solemnity. He had witnessed the horrors of the Dance of the Dragons, the civil war that had nearly torn their family asunder. The weight of the crown, one day destined to be his, already seemed to press heavily upon his shoulders.

Tonight, however, it was not the memories of the war that darkened his mood but the arrival of a particular guest—a guest whose very presence stirred old wounds.

Lady Y/N Hightower had made her entrance at court earlier that evening, drawing the attention of every eye in the hall. The daughter of one of the most powerful houses in Westeros, she embodied grace and poise as she moved through the gathering, her green silk gown flowing like water around her. Her beauty was undeniable, with her high cheekbones, delicate features, and eyes that gleamed with quiet intelligence. Yet, to Jacaerys, the green of her dress was more than a simple fashion choice—it was a reminder of the bitter rivalry that had once divided the realm.

The Hightowers had been instrumental in backing the Greens during the succession crisis, when Aegon II, spurred by the manipulations of his mother and the ambitions of his grandsire, Otto Hightower, had tried to claim the Iron Throne. The conflict had pitted Targaryen against Targaryen, nearly destroying their house in the process. The enmity between the Hightowers and the Targaryens had run deep ever since, and while the war had ended, the scars it left behind had yet to fully heal.

Rhaenyra, however, was no fool. She understood the precariousness of her reign, the fragile peace that had been brokered after the war. She had outlasted her enemies, but she knew that victory alone was not enough to secure the future of her family. Political alliances were now the key to maintaining the delicate balance of power, and Lady Y/N Hightower represented such an opportunity. The Hightowers, with their vast wealth and influence, could either be formidable enemies—or invaluable allies.

"This marriage," Rhaenyra said softly, leaning toward Jacaerys as they observed the feast below, "will strengthen the realm. With the Hightowers under our banner, no one will dare question your claim when the time comes."

Jacaerys clenched his jaw, his gaze fixed on the goblet of wine in his hand. "The Hightowers betrayed you, Mother. They sought to tear our family apart. And now you ask me to marry one of them?"

Rhaenyra's expression softened, but her voice carried the weight of hard-earned wisdom. "We can no longer afford to dwell in the past, Jace. The realm cannot survive on grudges. Peace is built on pragmatism, and Lady Y/N represents a chance to put old rivalries to rest."

Jacaerys glanced across the hall at Y/N, who sat at a place of honour among the noblewomen. She was poised, her demeanour betraying nothing of the storm that brewed within the room. Her beauty was undeniable, but all he could see was the history her name carried. The name Hightower was stained with betrayal in his eyes, and he struggled to separate the woman from the house she came from.

The greens, the banners of their enemies, still haunted him. They had flown high during the civil war, a symbol of the division that had nearly destroyed House Targaryen. To see them again, even in the form of a gown worn by the woman he was now expected to marry, stirred a deep unease within him. Could he truly trust her? Could he trust her family?

"I will speak with her," Jacaerys said after a long pause, his voice laced with reluctance. "But if this peace is false, if they betray us again..." He trailed off, his eyes darkening. "The consequences could destroy everything we’ve fought for."

Rhaenyra studied her son, recognizing the weight of his hesitation. She understood his doubts, for they echoed her own. Yet, as queen, she had learned that sometimes survival meant making alliances with those you least trusted. "I know," she replied quietly, her hand resting briefly on his arm. "But sometimes, Jace, the only way to ensure the future is to risk the past."

As the evening wore on, Jacaerys's gaze remained on Lady Y/N. He would speak to her, as his mother had requested. But in his heart, the seeds of doubt had already been planted, and he feared that peace, however tempting, might come at a far greater cost than anyone was willing to admit.

[regalevansworth]

The butterfly effect🦋

Pairing : Chris Hemsworth x male reader

Summery : Elated and thrilled to be able to start off your career in the fashion world, your first assignment is to help create costumes for superheroes. But this elation brings a sudden change in your life's trajectory when a chance encounter with none other than the Hollywood sensation-slash-hunk Chris Hemsworth transpires.

Warnings/tags : Explicit, SMUT 18+, resolved sexual tension, oral sex, anal sex, age difference (you're in your early 20's and Chris in his actual age), size difference, biting, Choking, dirty talking, manhandling, strength kink, body worshipping, Mature themes.

Word count : 6.3k+

A/N : Serving you, my first Chris Hemsworth fic. Despite being so underrated, CH fandom will live. I mean....who doesn't love our good ol’ Hemsy, right? So, here it is- a hot and spicey Chris Hemsworth smutty fic. I profusely apologize for all my mistakes and errors . Nevertheless, I enjoyed writing it and hope you enjoy reading it as well. And fyi, I envisioned Chris single in this fic. But it doesn't matter so you can pretend otherwise. Other than that, it's a legitimately sexy time. Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed. Enjoy <33

Never in a million years would you have thought of getting an oppprtunity like this. For as long as you can remember, fashion has always been a subject of fascination to you. The puzzle of fabric, needle and thread intrigued you so much so that you decided, at a very young age, that you'd be persuing fashion as a career. Your parents held no grudges on your choice of profession. They encouraged you even.

So here you are today, after 4 years of continuous study with utmost diligence and dedication, bagging your first ever job as the wardrobe supervisor of costume department in a 250Million budget movie. Which, also apparently, happens to be a Marvel Studios movie. The next THOR movie. Hence, to your inner superhero geek, it's a cherry on top.

Your interview with the head Costume designer and other production managers was pretty jarring as they encountered you with several complicated aspects of being a wardrobe supervisor. But you proved your worth with practiced ease although feeling a bit self-conscious of having no prior experience. All in all, your wit and knowledge saved the day. And you could tell from the look on their faces that they were pleased with your talent at such young age. But, today comes your first day at work.

Your list of to-do's for Day #1 is surprisingly not as overloaded as you expected. It just consists of a meeting with the whole crew and the director. It goes considerably fine, save for the revelation part where they delegate you the responsibility of supervising Chris Hemsworsth's entire costume fitting process. Thus, you get extra pressure of work on your shoulder. Nevermind that you are not nearly ready to face any of the stars of the movie and it's surely getting on your nerves.

Having been already moved to Australia, the production of the movie is continuing on full swing. It's the 4th day that the crew finally decides to start work on the costumes of the lead characters. As the supervisor of Chris Hemsworth's costume preparation, you, inevitably, have to accompany the rest of the crew (which is funnily of 3 members) to his trailer.

On the way to your destination, you feel the dread of meeting someone like Chris Hemsworth slowly looming upon you. It's no surprise to you that being gay you've always been attracted to particular alpha male like him. Sure, you had a small crush on him like the vast majority of world population, maybe you still do, but it's absolutely pointless, Isn't it? There's no way in hell he's going to notice much less give his undivided attention to some random guy like you. And he's straight.

Mind occupied with these gratuitous thoughts, you don't notice when the group suddenly comes to a halt in front of a wooden door, nameplate shining with the letters C-H-R-I-S H-E-M-S-W-O-R-T-H. You feel sweat slowly pooling at your neck and collarbone. You pull out your handkerchief to dab at the places and hear one of the crew member saying, “Are you okay, Y/N?” You look up at her and try to give your most calm smile, “Yeah, I'm okay”. She nods and waits with the rest of the crews for the knocked door to open.

God! Why am I feeling so nervous? It's nothing. I'm just going for a purely professional meeting with Chris Hemsworth. Big, handsome, hunk of muscles Chris Hemsworth. Nothing else. It's not like I'm gonna rip his shirt off and and worship him on my knees and then bend over for him at the first opportunity. No. I'm fine and I got this.

Realizing how ridiculous you sound, you pull yourself out of your stupid inner rambling and straighten your posture. When the door opens, you take one last deep breath and follow your teammates into the suit. The trailer finely decorated —as a star's trailer should be— but right now you can't focus on anything else but the man in front of you.

Chris Hemsworth stands before all of you in his all broad muscular glory. From the state of his physical appearance you can guess that he has just finished working-out and didn't take a shower after. Maybe he didn't have the time. However, his short dark blonde hair is disheveled and sweat stains forming all over the tight tank top he's wearing. You can see the outline of his chiseled abs through his drenched shirt. Inhumanly broad chest and fine crafted pecs are heaving in time of his heavy breaths. “Good lord” you mumble breathily at the sight of his arms and biceps that are the size of your entire head. Angry veins popping up from all over his biceps to forearms and you just wonder for a moment, how it'd be like to trace them with your tongue.

You immediately shake yourself off before your mind leaps up to dangerous territory and look over at the head designer who's now having a quick chat with Chris Hemsworth. Then, suddenly he turns his head towards you and beckons you closer. You visibly startle but head over to them nonetheless. “And this is Mr. (Y/N) (S/N). He'll be overlooking your entire costume fitting process” Your cheeks immediately flushes at the mention of your name and you try to make out if this whole ‘making acquaintance’ part is necessary as there won't be any business other than professional.

But, when you look up at Hemsworth you see his blue eyes already resting upon you. So blue you sigh inwardly as he steps closer to you and offers a hand, “Hello, mate”. His voice is so deep and resonant that you feel yourself swooning just from that. Clearing your throat, you take his offered hand to shake it and get instantly captivated by how strong and callused they feel against your soft palm. “H-Hello” you somehow croak out, feeling your cheeks and ear burn to the root. But looking up at him, you, for the first time get transfixed by just how handsome he looks up-close. His Bearded chin and jaw, strong-thick neck, and perfectly curved nose signify his classic but exceptional Australian handsomeness.

His eyes are a whole different story, that are now gazing heavily at you. You can feel the heat behind those deep sea blue eyes as an imperceptive wave of emotion flashes over them. There's a sudden fluttering in your stomache and the sensation is so new that the hairs on your neck stand at alert on their own accord as if detecting a danger.

However, the unknown spell is immediately broken when someone from behind Chris clears their throat and beckons the group to start the meeting. As the chatting progresses you start taking notes from each side of their own opinions and giving your own. But every now and then, you catch Chris staring at you from the corner of your eye. But when you try to look back, he turns his head immediately as if he's caught doing something wrong. I must be seeing things you think as you keep your track with the meeting and wonder just why Chris Hemsworth would be giving you the occasional meaningful glances. That's just too stupid and absurd.

By the time the meeting ends, it's already been 1 hour. After calling it a day, your team start to slowly file out of the room. Not wanting to be the last one to leave, you jump up to your feet in a haste and follow the others out of the room. You covertly take a glance over your shoulder to see that Chris is now talking —more like listening— to the head designer. But then his gaze shifts and locks with you for a moment causing you to jump in surprise and turn around instantly. You hurriedly make your way out without managing to trip over.

✯———————✯

It's exactly 6:30 a.m. when Chris' alarm goes off. Groaning sleepily, he shuts off the alarm and sits up. After waking up his first thing to do is to check the day's schedule. Today's list only includes a lot of workout and some interviews then script discussion with Taika and other cast members. Throwing the sheets off of himself, he climbs out of the bed and quickly grabs his towel to take a shower. Turning on the spray, he proceeds to rinse and clean himself.

As he does so, he can't help but shift his mind off to yesterday's events. He'd been notified that the costume team would be on his trailer to discuss some things. Which turned out to be total useless as the team was talented enough to handle things on their own. But he appreciated their concern of his involvement all the same.

But there is one thing from yesterday's occuring that possessed all of his rational thinkings. Well, not a thing but a person. A very beautiful and lovely person at that. (Y/N) (S/N). Yes, that was his name. (Y/N).

The man —more like a boy, he looked pretty young— had a very gorgeous appearance. With his beautiful (s/c) complexion, wavy (h/c) hair, a set of wide (e/c) eyes that he found himself lost in the moment he gazed on them, petal like lips that he knows for a fact that they would feel as soft as they looked. He also had an aristocratic body type. Very slender but sinuous and quite short at height. The sage green cardigan of his attire accentuated his beauty all the more.

Chris is sure he felt quite captivated by the young man and the desire he felt was also quite strong. He didn't feel such attraction towards someone for a very long time and he longs to feel that body beneath him, to hear all the sound he can elicit from him, to feel his heat engulfing him whole.

Not wanting to get hard, Chris quickly pulls himself out of his thoughts and shuts off the shower. Then quickly toweling himself off he wraps the towel around his hips and goes to his suit to get ready for the day.

As expected, the day turns out to be quite uneventful but the meeting with the stars was pretty fun. After excusing himself, Chris makes his way towards his room but stops down shortly when a familiar voice calls out from behind “Mr. Hemsworth!”. Turning around, he catches the sight of the object of his sudden obsession making his way towards him. The young man is looking more delectable today. A cream colored hoodie accompanied with jeans making his appearance just as lovely. He's also wearing rounded glasses today which makes him look rather endearing as they highlighted his doe-like eyes and made them appear even bigger.

You stop Infront of him with a clipboard in your hand, allowing him to take in the scent of your cologne —fresh, and mouth watering sweet. He feels desire pooling in his stomache just being near you again. Having remembered you called him out for some reason, he smiles kindly, “Yes?”. His smile broadens when he sees a high blush rising on your cheeks and going down your neck to disappear under the collar of your hoodie, fully aware of the affect he has on you. You clear your throat and look down on the clipboard, “umm...ahem.....I’m just....here to inform you that we'll be taking measurement of your...umm...body...for your costumes so the team will be in your room in about an hour”. The full time you spoke, your gaze were anywhere but on him.

On the other hand, Chris was mentally devouring you the entire time of your forced rambling and without thinking, he blurts out, “will you be there?” He could've kicked himself for asking you that but the dumbstruck look on your lovely scarlet face, lips parted, eyed widened makes it million times worth it. But he immediately straightens up to make the conversation look professional. You peer up at him from beneath your lashes— a sight Chris is committing to memory— and nod, whispering, “Yes, I'll be there. It's under my supervision”. “Cool. I'll see you there, mate” comes Chris's jovial reply and because he can't help it and he really wants to touch you somehow, he grasps the exposed skin of your neck, squeezing it a bit.

Hand lingering there for a moment, He hesitantly retracts it but the softness of your skin on his rough palm left him craving for more. Images of him trailing kisses down your neck and leaving marks on the smooth expanse flashes through his mind and before he loses his composure, he flashes a wide smile and abruptly turns on his heels before striding away.

You stand there, shaking, eyes wide like saucers. The unexpected touch having made your rational thinkings go hayware. Head spinning thousand miles per second from the feel of his solid grip on your neck. Goosebumps still fresh on your entire body as you feel pulse throbbing on the side of your neck where moments ago his veiny hand rested.

How it'd feel to have those hands roaming all over your smaller frame? Holding you down as he pounds you onto the mattress? He could easily fit both of his huge palms around your hips

You shiver at the thoughts and immediately snap out of your reverie. Still blushing like a lovestruck teenager, you make your way towards the costume department's office, the interaction still fresh on your mind. Chris Hemsworth smiling at you, touching you. The same fluttering sensation returns like a thousand butterflies roaming around your belly. You shake your head again,. He isn't into you, you moron! He's just being friendly. Yes, he's just being his usual cheery self. Stop thinking otherwise. And Chris Hemsworth isn't gay for god's sake!! You mentally chide yourself, slapping at the back of your head once and twice.

It isn't untill one hour passes that you prepare for the impending visit to Chris Hemsworth. Just when you're about to gather your team, one of them walks up to you with an apologetic expression and you immediately know this isn't going to end up to your liking. “Hey, uh, (M/N), sorry to bother you but the other guys will be busy for next some hours with you know, set props and stuff. So, you'll have to take the measurements of Mr. Hemsworth alone” He rushes to explain again when he sees the shocked look on your face, “It's nothing difficult, really. You know how it's done, right?” You take a moment to collect yourself and nod unsurely. “Great! Good luck” He pats you on the back and hurries away.

“Shit” comes the first thing from your mouth and you know that you're gloriously fucked. But you also know that despite your current predicament, this work has to be done as soon as possible otherwise the pressure will grow on everyone. So, after releasing a long defeated sigh, you grab your things and head out. On your way, you pray to whatever higher power is up there to shorten your time alone with Chris Hemsworth and save you from the ultimate embarrassment.

Chris has just finished doing some light push-ups and weight-lifting knowing that it'll help broadening his muscles to make his body susceptible to perfect measurement. Just as he is about to grab a towel and clean the slight sheen of persiperation off his body, there comes a knock to the door. Musing it'll be the costume team, he walks over to the door, shirtless, and pulls it open. There, fidgeting like a nervous teenager, stands (M/N). But when those alluring eyes fall upon him, they widen almost comically. Never being able to focus on one thing, they shift from his face to his chest, abs, arm and every inch of his naked skin. He can't help but smile smugly at that.

Chris then sees you gulping visibly before looking up, face flushed so prettily and for the first time Chris wonders if you are a virgin. “Hey mate, I was waiting for you, come on in.” He moves aside to let you in. Seeing it just you, he asks, “You, uh, alone?” You nod, obviously more than nervous.

After an awkward amount of moment passes, you pull out the measurement tape from your back pocket and look up at him expectantly, “Shall we begin?”. He smiles, adjusting the ball cap he's wearing, “Sure, let me just clean off the sweat. I don't wanna make you uncomfortable” You nod and set down the notpads on the near table. After some moments, Chris comes out of his bedroom looking slightly fresh but the evidence of his chore is still fresh on his bronzed skin.

Unrolling the tape, you move closer to him and a wave of musky scent of sweat and ozone mixed with faint spicy cologne hits your nostrils. The man radiates musculinity and of pure testosterone which is practically overwhelming your senses, making your knees buckle. Trying to calm yourself down, you proceed.

Placing the metallic tip of the tape on his right shoulder, you measure out the length of his arm and then doing the same to his left arm. Following the same procedure you measure out the length of his upper body. Jotting down the numbers after immediately everytime.

Then you move to meter the width of his neck and collar and by the close promiximity you can now feel his hot breath down the side of your neck. Can feel his eyes boring onto the same spot and the delicious heat wafting off of him. You quickly dislodge yourself and move around to measure the width of his muscular shoulders, impressive at that. His eyes trailing your every movement. Gulping nervously, you shuffle around untill you get the measurement of his biceps, forearms and chest, eyes widening from the sheer size of them.

When it is time to get the measurement of his waist and lower body, you begrudgingly have to get down on your knees which seems to be only convenient.

Chris silently observes you getting down on your knees. The sight already having made his blood rushing south, cock thickening inside his shorts. He can feel your breath coming in contact with his crotch even with the barrier of thin fabric when you circle the tape around his waist. He is having an absolute hard time stiffling his groans. Multitude of lewd, pornographic images flashes through his mind, each one dirtier than the other.

You can clearly see the tan line on Chris's skin from where you're crouching in front of him. His low hanging shorts doing nothing to hide the trail of hair disappearing under the waistband nor the obvious swell of of a prominant bulge. You swallow thickly realizing you're eye to eye with Chris Hemsworth's very clothed manhood and how easy it'd be to just tug the ridiculous pair of shorts down and choke yourself on his huge Australian cock.

Chris is also having a hard time restraining himself to just smash your pretty face onto his crotch, fingers twitching from the effort. But when you look up at him suddenly with your wide (e/c) eyes and parted lips, he loses all the battles against his lust.

He picks you up in a flash. Ignoring your yelp of surprise, he smashes your lips together. The force of his kiss almost knocks you off balance. But you pull yourself together from the utter shock and wrap your arms around his neck. He wraps his huge arms around your waist and tugs yourself close even though there is not an ounce of space left between you, chests flush together. You try to kiss back as much as possible but you feel already delirious, mind hazy.

He eagerly sucks on your bottom lip. You moan in pleasure, making him groan and deepen the kiss. Soon his thick tongue seeks entrance to your mouth which you are very happy to comply. He licks the inside of your mouth, groaning from the taste. Tongues enterwining, you both lose yourself in the act. He bites your bottom lip and you whimper in response. His tongue is warm and heavy in your mouth, so as his body against yours.

He soon breaks the kiss and reluctantly pulls away, a trail of saliva connecting your lips. Both of your breath became heavier by now and he looks at you so intensely that you, feeling somewhat scrutinized, look down with your hands still clutching both of his meaty shoulders. Curling a finger under your chin, he tilts your head up and you notice for the first time, that his eyes are completely blown away, the blues of his orbs are blackened by what can be called as raw hunger. You can't help the shiver that wracks down your spine.

Wordlessly, he slowly backs you up against the nearest wall and once more kisses you so passionately as if trying to devour you. Involuntary tears gather at the corner of your eyes from the light suffocation. If it wasn't for him, you never would've known that kisses can be this much pleasurable to bring you to hardness in an instant.

Chris absolutely loves the taste of your mouth as he licks around every cravice. Your heavenly moans and whimpers going straight to his already engorged cock as it's leaking a steady stream of precome inside his boxers. He wants to hear you more, the sounds he can emit from your sinful lips as he makes you his. With this single thought in his minds, he pecks you on the lips one last time and slowly descends down the long column of your neck.

He takes a whiff from the juncture of your neck and shoulder before pressing his tongue flat on the skin. “You smell so good” he purrs in a husky tone and starts to suckle on your neck, pressing wet open mouthed kisses on your skin. You bite the back of your hand to stop yourself from making any more embarrassing noises. But he's just making it so hard from his slow ministrations.

Feeling restless and too worked up, you slowly start to roam your palms around his strong back. Both your hands don't even come together from the wideness of his upper back. As he feasts upon your neck, you rake your nails on his sweaty scalp, making him groan into your skin. So far, you are completely ignorant about how things escalated since you step into his trailer. You just simply can't bring yourself to care.

Chris tugs at the hem of your hoodie, a silent indication for you to remove it. You comply without any question and as soon as it comes off, his touches become more bolder. Pressing both of your naked chests together, he kisses and nips at your collarbone, lavs at the dip of your clavicle all the while letting his teeth graze at the soft skin. He follows the same movement on your throat and jaw before taking your earlobe between his teeth and gently bites down. You whine at the sensation as he kisses behind your ear and issues one demand, “I want you”.

That's the moment you know you are utterly and entirely his to do anything with and you don't even try to hold back the Yes that leaves your mouth in a whine.

At your permission, he settles both of his large hands on your hips and marvles at how they engulf the entirety of your narrow waist. Still kissing, he sneaks his hands down your waist to rest them on your ass before squeezing both cheeks roughly that has you moaning in his mouth.

At some point, Chris aligns both your hips together and thrusts forward and your eyes immediately roll back from the hard press of his large bulge against your own erection. Yes, he is going to split you open and you will absolutely let him.

But first, you need to worship the Greek god in front of you. Trace each dip and swell of his muscles with your tongue, have that heavy cock down your throat and then let him wreck you however he wants.

Mind made up, you try and push him away to make enough room. He looks at you with a puzzled expression and then slowly realization dawns on him, perhaps your needy expression gave you away. But you can only care less as he grins and let his hands fall at his sides.

Having enough space, you move forward to press a shy kiss on top of his left pec. The muscle feeling hard on your lips as a low groan leaves from the person above you. Pleased with his reaction, you grow more confident with your touches and shower open mouthed kisses along every inch of his tanned skin, tongue darting out to chase the salty taste of his sweat leaving a wet trail of saliva in it's wake.

While your mouth is busy worshipping his glorious abs, your hands roam on his strong biceps and equally dense triceps. You can hear him panting lightly as his hands gently pushing down on your shoulders to get you on your knees.

Your knees gently hits the soft carpet and you look up at him wide wide eyes, flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Chris curses at the sight of you and combs his rough, thick fingers through your soft locks and buries your face in his crotch. You grip at his strong thighs for support and inhale his strong musky scent, making you moan and leak inside your boxers.

He's so hard and the press of his hard, long and thick cock against your cheek feels every bit the exciting and terrifying. You can feel the heat of his members even through the fabric of his shorts as you mouth at his covered shaft hungrily.

“Fuck baby, c'mon. Pull it out. I wanna feel your pretty lips wrapped around me”, rasps the man in his deep Australian accent, making you bite your lip from moaning out loud.

You scramble to obey him and tug his already unlaced shorts down to his thighs. And immediately, his engorged erection springs free and slaps you across the cheek. Your eyes widen at the sight in front of you as you take in the size of Chris Hemsworth's beast of a cock.

It's long and as thick as your wrist, the tip is swollen and an angry shade of red with precum beading at the slit, veins running around the shaft and a thick vein at the underside, a nice thatch of dark blonde pubic hair at the base. So big. You drool at the thought of having it in your mouth and look down to spot his heavy looking balls that are not surprisingly also large, hanging between his thighs. They look so full, I wonder how much cum they can produce. You think in awe.

In no time, Chris grips your soft (h/c) locks and tugs you forward. You comply happily and wrap your lips around the thick spongey head. Throwing his head back, Chris groans at the feel of your soft lips on his sensitive glans. So hot and wet.

Pleased with his response, you press your tongue flat on the slit and lick up all the salty-sweet precum constantly dripping from his cock. The taste is strongly exquisite and you double down your effort to taste it more. Swirling your tongue expertly around the head, you try to take him deeper all the while gripping his strong thighs for support.

Chris watches is amazement as you continue to deep-throat him. Occasional low grunts leaving his lips as you bob your head up and down on his thick shaft. Spit and drool covering your chin as you gag and choke on his length. Chris swears at your relentless pace on sucking his cock. Even if you can't take him all the way down to your throat, you compensate with wrapping both hands around the missed portion. Jerking in time of your head movement.

You can feel Chris' thighs shaking as he presses one palm on the wall behind you and you realize that he is close. Moaning loudly around his cock, you continue faster than before and with both hands on his hips, you urge him to fuck your face. Chris immediately starts thrusting inside your warm mouth, a litany of curses falling from his lips.

You choke everytime the tip bumps the back of your throat but you don't give him any sign to stop. Drool making his cock shiny and slick as it travels down the base of his cock onto his heavy hanging balls. Wet slurping and gagging noises fill the room along with Chris Hemsworth's groans of pleasure.

“Fuck baby, I'm close. You want my cum?” Chris groans out between heavy pants as he looks down to see you looking pleadingly up at him.

“Mmm” is all you can say with your mouth full of his incredible cock but it's all he needed to hear before urgently thrusting a couple of more times and finally you can feel the warm rush of Chris Hemsworth's cum on your tongue. The taste of his sweet and salty seed in your mouth coaxing you to moan in delight as you swallow every single drop.

After he stops coming, you pull out his cock from your mouth with an audible pop and lick the remnants off of it. Looking up at him through your lashes as you press your tongue on the slit and wrapping your lips around it to give it a fierce suck to draw out any left behind, already hungry for more.

Chris watches with lidded eyes as his lustful gaze travels all over your body, blown wide pupils zeroing on your face. Cheeks flushed, eyes puffy and glistening, lips parted around his already hardening cock, chin covered in drool and cum, hair in a tangled mess. You're the perfect picture of debauchery and he can't waste anymore time.

With a hungry growl, he picks you up from the floor. Strong hands gripping the underside of your thighs to hoist you up in his arms. Taking the cue, you throw your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he carries you to the bedroom, lips on every inch of your neck, his coarse beard a delicious friction on your soft skin.

Once reaching the pristinely decorated room, Chris deposites you on the bed, promptly climbing on top of you and claiming your lips once more in a heated kiss. It doesn't take long for him to slide his lips and tongue down your jaw to hungrily mouth on your neck. You can't keep the whimpers of pleasure that leave you parted lips which seems to encourage him to continue with his ministrations.

One hand fisting on the sheets and other entangled in Chris' dirty blonde hair, you arch upward with a high pitched moan as he latches his lips onto one of your nipple. Biting and rolling the hardened nub between his teeth before gently tugging and blowing on it has you writhing in his hold.

“P-please”

“Please what, baby?” Chris growls around your other nipple. You shake your head, tears of sweet torture skipping down the side of your face.

Raising up on his forearms Chris grabs ahold of your face and leans down to whisper hotly, “I want you to say it”

“P-please t-touch me” cheeks aflame, you breath out. Chris smirks but complies. Sneaking his hands past your stomach to unbutton your jeans, tugging them down along with your boxers. His hand immediately wraps around your aching flesh, completely engulfed in his big, sturdy hand. Your eyes flutters shut as a long moan escapes your throat, Chris immediately swallowing it down by pressing his mouth to yours.

With his sure hand stroking up and down your cock, you find yourself running your hands all over his sun kissed muscular body. You can't get enough of off him. The way he dominates you, makes you feel good and the way he overwhelms you with his equally overwhelming figure is something you're sure you'll never find anywhere else again. He completely ruined you—ruining you—for any other man.

It takes a while for you to register that his other hand that wasn't occupied are now busy between you parted thighs. One thick finger prodding at your entrance, making you jolt up in surprise. “L-lube” you choke out, knowing that his big digits won't be comfortable for a dry intrusion and you want this as painless as possible. But the thought appears unconvincing as you watch Chris nod with a smile and gets up to retrieve lube from drawer, his big cock bobbing and swaying with his movements.

Chris returns with a small container of lube in his hand, squirting a generous amount on his digits before coating them nicely and dropping the container on the sheets.

“Relax. Let me loosen you up, hmm?” Chris says with his deep voice that immediately soothes you, allowing you to take a deep breath as the first finger approaches you. Chris rhythmically thrusts his index finger inside you and the initial discomfort fades away as you listen to him saying, “You're doing so good baby. Such a good boy, getting ready for my cock”

Hearing Chris saying those things to you doubles your pleasure but it compare to when his finger hit that sweet spot inside you that makes your toes curl and back arch, silent scream erupting from your throat, eyes wide from the sheer intensity of it.

Chris has a triumphant expression on his face as he thrusts on that spot repeatedly. And before you know, three of Chris' fingers are inside your ass, loosening your walls. Chris watched you as a string of pleas fall from your lips and he knows that you're close.

Suddenly, Chris pulls out his fingers, making you whine at the loss and the emptiness. Chris chuckles, “Don't worry baby. I'll fill you up with something much better”.

With that, you watch as he drops a generous amount of lube in his palm and coats his large flesh with the substance. Chris shuffles closer, pressing the tip to your entrance as he looks at you for permission. You nod without hesitation, aching to be filled with his monstrous cock.

As the fat head of his cock pushes past the ring of your muscle, you already find yourself breathless. Winding your arms around his neck, you encourage him to go on. And he does. Chris pushes the entirety of his large manhood inside you tight channel with one long thrust. “Fuck” Chris grunts from how tightly your walls are gripping his cock “You're so fucking tight”

Meanwhile, an actual scream erupts from your throat as you feel him reaching so deep inside of you, at the same time stretching you so wide. The pain and pleasure making your senses go haywire as a sob rips from your core.

“You're so- so big”

Chris can't response. Not when he feels this good. He can already feel the tingling in his balls, already churning and filling up with cum. He can no longer hold back. He needs to move. To pound into your tight- sweet ass till both of you can't remember your names.

“Fuck, baby. I need to move. Can I move?” Chris grits out, muscles straining from the effort of holding back.

Overwhelmed yourself, you lock your ankles behind his back and can only nod. But thankfully Chris notices as a sigh of relief leaves his lips. It soon changes into a look of determination as he pulls back till only the tip is inside before slamming back in with full force.

It jolts you from you position but soon after Chris' hand grabs your hips in a tight grip and his powerful hips starts thrusting without inhibition. It's like a dam has been broken the way Chris delivers each of his thrusts. Both of you are a moaning and groaning mess.

Chris hits every right spot inside you that makes you toe curl. You watch transfixed as his powerful body collides with your much smaller and petite one. Every single muscle in his body looks on overdrive with each snap of his hips. Sweat sprouting on his forehead, some of it gathering between the slope of his pecs making it glisten in daylight. Every fibre of muscle in his biceps bulging with how tightly he's grabbing your hips, sure to leave marks in it's wake. His abs also glistening from sweat, tightening with tension as a few drops gathering on his dark blonde pubes. In this moment of passion, you realize you have never seen a man so handsome, masculine and equally beautiful in you life. And said man is now giving you the wildest ride of your life.

“You feel so good, baby. So fucking good”

Your response in only a choked moan. But you somehow manage to let out, “Harder, Chris. Please, harder”

“Yeah? You want me to go hard, baby?”

Again, you can only nod. But Chris grants you wishes. With one swift movement, he flips you onto your stomach. Roughly pulling your ass up and smashing your face onto the pillow, he slides back in. Every inch of his glorious cock and starts to pound harder than ever.

You bite onto the pillow to muffle your sounds but Chris leans down and grabs you chin, murmuring in you ear, “Don't cover your sounds. I want to hear them. I want to hear you scream my name baby”

With that, he pulls his cock back slowly, letting you feel the delicious drag of cock inside of you before snapping back in and immediately hitting your prostate. Your eyes snap open as he makes you scream as promised, “Nnghh!!!Chris!!!”

After that, Chris doesn't relent. He jabs at your prostate with his cock mercilessly. His heavy balls slapping against your ass as he thrusts from behind and you push your ass back in time of his thrusts to meet him halfway. Yes yes please please Chris words fall from your lips like mantra.

“Yeah? You like that? You like my big cock inside your sweet ass?”

“Yes yes” you nod your head frantically

“Tell me how much you like my big fat cock”

“So much. Please”

“Yeah? And what do you want?”

“I want— oh yes —I want your cum”

“Fuck”

Chris again flips you onto your back. Pushing back in and setting up his rhythmic thrusts, he leans down and starts sucking bruises on your neck and shoulder. By the time both of your breath becomes heavier and pants starts to grow louder, you can't hold back anymore. Without even touching, your cock is ready to explode.

“C-Chris, I'm coming”

“Shit, baby. Me too. Cum with me”

And with one last precise thrust that hits you right in your sweet spot you're coming all over yourself. Cum landing on your stomach and pooling on your lower belly.

At the same time, Chris lets out a low growl and comes inside you in long spurts. You can feels his hot seed coating your inner walls, painting them white. There's so much of it that it starts to leak around his cock, still deep inside you. Your cock gives a weak little twitch from the sensation and then Chris collapses right on top of you. Your lithe body squished beneath his sweaty bulky one.

“That was fucking amazing” Chris breathes out, face buried in your neck.

“Yes. I loved it” you giggle, looping your arms around his shoulders and stroking his sweat drenched hair.

Chris looks up at you and grins. Dorky and satisfied. “Shower?”

You nod shyly. Chris tugs you up by the wrist and guides you towards the end suite bathroom.

On the way there Chris slaps one of your ass cheeks and smirks suggestively down at you. “Next time, I'm eating this out before doing anything else”

You feel your cheeks boil as he laughs his famous booming laughter. But neither you can contain the smile that tugs at the corner of your lips.

Next time

A/N (2) : phew! At last. I'm sorry guys this fic is too much lengthy. I always feel the need to explain every single situation in my fics also very prolonged and detailed smut. And honestly it's so much tiring and mentally strenuous as fuck. So I swore to myself that I'm going to keep my thought process at minimum from now on. On second note, I don't know shit about a movie's costume making process, i just made the whole thing up. Guilty. Again, I'm sorry if the story longivity bothers you guys, I'm trying my best. See y'all soon with another of my groundbreaking fic Lol ;P

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Do you think Tom was the only student Dumbledore hated? I think Tom probably isn't the only Unfavorite Student and there are more out there that Dumbledore was successful at sabotaging.

(Side thought do you think Moody started out on Dumbledore's bad list but then worked very hard to "redeem" himself by trusting Dumbledore in all things and that's why he's so weirdly loyal to Dumbledore?)

Dumbledore and Hating People

The thing is that Tom Riddle does seem to hold a special place in Dumbledore's heart.

There are other characters we see who are also loathsome/have qualities that Dumbledore despises but it's in different ways/not to the same degree.

Dumbledore utterly loathes Lockhart, purposefully sets him up with the job so as to either destroy his reputation fundamentally or kill him. However, I'd say Dumbledore is contemptuous and dismissive of Lockhart. Dumbledore has 0 interest in the man beyond destroying him, and doesn't spend much time thinking about him beyond getting him in the castle and letting the curse do its work.

Dumbledore is dismissive and contemptuous of Cornelius Fudge, but again, doesn't focus on him much beyond pitying his shortsightedness and holding him in general contempt.

Dumbledore similarly doesn't love the Dursleys but it feels like that's in a way of he has 0 opinion or interest in Vernon and just... a very weird treatment of Petunia. I wouldn't even say he dislikes them, in fact, I think he likes the idea of them beyond the general disappointment in not treating Harry exactly the way he'd like (except they are doing that but he'll never say as much).

While we don't know that Dumbledore doesn't have stashes of memories he's painfully collected over the years, going to anyone who ever interacted with Tom Riddle and asking "please give me every memory you have ever had" only for the vast majority of them to slam the door in his face, given the focus he has on Tom Riddle it seems... unlikely...

Add this in with Tom's "dark glamour", the way Dumbledore talks about him, the way he pontificates about him as if he's a fictional character and Dumbledore is writing fanfiction and metas about the man, and we're looking at a... I'll call it a fixation where Tom hit all the right buttons for Albus Dumbledore in a way that other people just haven't.

Basically, the people we see Dumbledore hate just aren't hot enough (or are women so Dumbledore doesn't care).

I'll put it this way. Harry's easily Dumbledore's second fixation, he puts a lot of work into this boy, but Dumbledore's way less... into him is the only way I can put it, than Tom. Harry's there as a vehicle/means to destroy Tom and acts as a foil to Tom. Everything about Harry for Dumbledore is presented as "in contrast to Tom Riddle" and that's telling to me.

As for hating students...

I think most of the time Dumbledore just doesn't give a fuck.

With Draco who was actively endangering the student body, nearly killing several students to ultimately kill Dumbledore, and ultimately letting Death Eaters (including Fenrir fucking Grayback) into the castle where it's a miracle no one died/got lycanthropy Dumbledore was into it and a) knew the whole time b) did nothing to stop it because then Tom would hurt Draco. (It's too bad Katie Bell got cursed for six months in the process of that huh Dumbledore or you didn't approach Draco with that offer to give him clemency until the last five minutes of your life).

I doubt Dumbledore knows who Crabbe and Goyle even are.

And he seemed to favor the Marauders (rampant known bullies) and not care about Severus at the time and now thinks quite highly of Severus for having redeemed himself for love/following a narrative Dumbledore likes while also being unable to not do what Dumbledore wants.

He only cares about Ron and Hermione in relation to Harry and just likes the general idea of them (Dumbledore is very big on the "idea" of people).

Dumbledore and Moody

I don't think so.

We've seen the redemption story Dumbledore likes and that's Severus Snape's. Dumbledore likes a narrative, Moody having been disliked then just choosing to be a sycophant would be very unimpressive for Dumbledore because he'd see no reason for Moody to have changed/not an impressive enough reason.

It has to be for true love, friendship, some reason that is a compelling narrative to Dumbledore.

Everything for Dumbledore fits into these narratives from Merope dying in childbirth (she just didn't love enough), to Lily being murdered (she loved her son so much she sacrificed herself), to Snape (his love for her means he is now undyingly loyal to her son), to everything.

Plus, I don't get that feeling about Moody.

Dumbledore has plenty of people unquestioningly loyal to him, he cultivates the Order such that this is the case, it's not so much that Moody's an outlier for being so loyal but the fact that he is in the Order of the Phoenix at all means he must be this loyal to survive there (notice Percy is not a member). In the Order we're seeing the people who survived the litmus test of "actively not questioning Dumbledore in any decision he ever makes" (see HBP and the Christmas Party and shooting down of Harry's "Draco's up to something and Snape is too" for reasons that are simply "I trust Dumbledore completely" and nothing else).

If Moody wasn't like that, he wouldn't be in the Order.

So, I think Moody's just like the rest of them and I don't see a reason why he would have ever been different.

[janananarei]

My Loyal Follower

God!Gojo x Mortal!Reader

Fate decides to put color in your monochrome world and brings you to an abandoned temple with a god residing inside. You are taken in as his follower and an unbreakable bond forms. But the passage of time is cruel to the immortals.

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Genre: Angst

Cw: SFW, gn! Reader, mentions of blood and violence, attempted kidnapping at one part, old age

Word Count: 3k

Note: This is my very first attempt at writing a story so don't expect too much! I am also not used to using tumblr so please bear with the bad layout

≿━━༺❀༻━━≾ ༻✧༺ ≿━━༺❀༻━━≾

"Oh my"

Heavy rain started to pour while you were in the middle of scavenging for berries. Seeing as how far you are from your house, you quickly shuffle through the forest to find the nearest shelter, being careful not to slip on muddy areas.

You lived a peaceful life away from other citizens. With your cottage lying in the forest, so as to not be disturbed by other's matters. Although, due to your isolation, you have no one to call a friend. There are days where you felt lonely, with nothing in mind to keep you busy. These were one of those days, so you thought making a new pie recipe would keep you away from those feelings.

"What a shame", looks like the weather was not with you today.

Continuing to trudge through thick foliage, your eyes catch a temple in the distance. You scramble to it's entrance and breath as sigh of relief once the droplets of water stopped hitting your skin. You look around the temple covered with moss and growing plants, with a leak on its roof. The singular window gives light to the room, allowing you to see various eye symbols marked on the wall. Assuming that this is an abandoned temple, you put your basket down and sit as you wait for the rain to stop. Now recognizing how tired you are, you rest against the wall and allow sleep to overcome you.

You feel like your shaking, or better yet, someone is shaking you. A voice is suddenly heard, but you couldn't fully process it.

"hey-...-ho are yo-.."

Your eyes slowly start to open as you see a a blurry face in front of you.

"-nswer me mortal"

Your eyes finally adjust to your surroundings. What sits in front of you is a man wearing a white robe with hair as white as the clouds, skin as smooth as the valleys, and the most beautiful pair of eyes you have ever seen. No amount of jewelry can compete with those eyes, it is like looking at the vast ocean full of life and unknowns.

"It is rude to stare and not answer someone's question you know, especially if you break into their abode."

You snapped out of your thoughts and answered the strange man, "Pardon me sir, I am (Y/N). I was just collecting berries when it started to rain heavily, I stumbled upon this temple to seek shelter. I was not aware that it was occupied."

He scuffed, "I forgive you, although be sure to at least knock or give a sign before entering someone's abode." You nod as you stood up and dusted any of the dirt caught to your clothes. "Are you the keeper of this temple? This is the first time I've ever seen it." You look at him with a curious look, this place is even farther from civilization. How will people be able to visit this temple if it so isolated from the world?

He looks at you with a smirk and proudly says, "Keeper? I am more than that, I am the god to which this temple worships."

Bewildered, you continue to look at him and his prideful face. "A god? Don't be so ridiculous now. This temple seems to be abandoned, with no people insight. Surely the god that lies here is gone now." He looks at you offended, "How bold of you to speak like that to a god, mortal! I sure am the god that this temple dedicates to, Satoru Gojo, the god of infinity!"

Silence filled the room as you continue to stare at each other. Finally, The so-called Satoru Gojo huffed and said, "The rain has stopped an you have overstayed your welcome. Leave now before you face consequences!"

Picking up your basket, you bow and head home. With Gojo continuing to look at your figure until you disappear into the bushes.

"Mortals..."

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

The next day, you hold your freshly made pie close as you walk back to the temple.

"What brings you here again? Come to insult me?" Crossing his arms as you reach the entrance of the temple. You bow and present your homemade pie to him, "I come to apologize once more, we set off at the wrong foot yesterday and I wish to correct it. I made this pie for you as an apology" You raise up your head and look at him. Gojo looks at the pie as if it's the shiniest pearl in the entire world. He quickly snatches it from you and starts devouring it with a smile on his face. You relax and give a soft smile as he eats your pie, sighing considering your time making it was worth it. "So you say your the god of this temple? Looking at you again, it isn't so surprising considering that you look out of this world." He looks at you and his prideful face returns once more, "Hah! For once you are correct, I am the most ethereal man you will ever lay your eyes upon! And not to mention the strongest as well. I have saved many cities from doom, and joined the greatest wars. With my six eyes, no man has ever come close to defeating me!" You stare at him as he continues to ramble. Passion evident in his face as he recounts all the stories he has in store. He looks happy now that he has someone to talk to.

"Ah! Now I understand why you are doing all these gestures, you wish to become a follower of mine!" You're snapped out of your stupor, "Huh- wha- no! I just wanted to-" You paused as you look into his eyes. No matter how magnificent they are, they carry a sense of loneliness. Now that you think about it, you have a lot of similarities with Gojo. Isolated from society, no one to be there with you, no one around that is waiting for you to come home. Perhaps being with Gojo could heal that loneliness inside both of you, and if becoming his follower will bring you closer to him then so be it. Gojo waits for your response as you make your decision, "Nevermind. It would be an honor to be considered your follower, Gojo." He lets out a laugh, overjoyed with your choice. "You have a bright mind mortal. From now on I will take you under my hands and protect you, so long as your faith for me stays strong."

You giggled as you stood up and faced him. "I have more pie recipes that I would love to try out. If you'd like, you can accompany me while searching for the ingredients." He crossed his arms, "Making me into one of your helpers? Fine, since you are my follower and have graciously offered me pie."

You cheer as you start to head into the forest, followed by the white haired man.

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"What is this strange thing, it looks poisonous."

"Just try it, it's candy! I promise you, you're gonna love it."

Months have passed since your first meeting with Gojo. You both have gotten closer over time, with the temple being your usual meeting spot. Your usual lonely days are now filled with laughter and quips from both you and Gojo. You now experience the warm feeling of having someone waiting for you everyday, and you were grateful for whatever fate brought you to the temple.

"See, I told you you'd like it."

Gojo is in awe as he continues to savor the candy in his mouth. "Slow down, you might choke- wha- hey that's my candy!" Gojo snatched your candy right out of your hands and quickly gobbled it up. "That was rude Gojo" you pouted as you travelled far just to buy those candies. "Why do you still continue to call me Gojo? You have proven to me that you are a faithful follower of mine, so you may have the honor to call me Satoru."

"Satoru? Anyways, you better pay me back for eating my candy!"

"Ordering your god around? How despicable, have you no respect for your deity?"

"Come on! You're a god, surely you can use your godly powers to make candy appear right now!"

Satoru now looks a little bothered by what you said. "It's not that easy..."

"Do you have magic that can make candy out of thin air? Or maybe one that changes the weather? Oh! Maybe your powers focus more on nature?"

"uh- well no."

"Gods are naturally gifted with powers right? That's what makes them unique. So surely yours is something super amazing right? Is it-"

"I'm not a real god!"

Silence fills the air, Satoru looks away from your shocked form. "What do you mean? You have a whole temple dedicated for you, you have your own title, and your whole form gives off divinity."

"I'm not a real god, or more so I'm not a god anymore."

"What happened?"

He sighs and looks at you, he needs to tell you the truth. "Back then, I had plenty of followers that worshipped me and gave me offerings. I had visitors everyday coming from far away places. I was known to be the strongest god, praised for my power and strength. So when a great war between gods occurred, I was forced to participate. PIt was going well at first with our side winning, but one night, a god destroyed my village and killed all my followers. I got heavily injured while fighting, and I couldn't even save one of them... That's when I stopped participating in the war as I laid in the ruins of my home. When the war was over, humans and gods have already forgotten about my existence. With no more followers, citizens, or anyone that still believes of my existence, I gradually lost my divinity until I am but a simple man..."

Silence filled the atmosphere after Satoru dropped the truth. He couldn't bear to look at you after lying for months, but he felt your head lean onto his shoulder. "Oh Satoru, god or not, I'd still be with you." Silence continues to fill the air as you bask in each other's presence.

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

It was supposed to be a normal afternoon. You were on your way to visit Satoru, when you heard footsteps behind you.

"Well, well, well look what we have here boy."

Bandits.

"How much do you think they would cost?"

"A hefty amount, we 'bout to be rich off of this."

They were slowly closing in on you, your adrenaline peeking, you were in fight or flight mode. Seeing that you were outnumbered, you suddenly take off heading for the temple.

Satoru will be there to fight them off

What you didn't anticipate for was for them to catch onto you, feeling a hand grab onto your arm as you were running. You think fast and punch the bandit right on the face as he let go and fell down to the floor. Another one appears and slashes your arm, blood starts to drop from the wound, so you kick him to the ground. Adrenaline fully taking over your body, you ready yourself to make another blow when you suddenly felt someone hit you at the back of your head.

Shit, they snuck up on me

You feel yourself falling, with your head hitting the ground. A warm thick liquid drips at the back of your head and your arm. You couldn't move.

Get up, get up, get up

You feel your consciousness slowly fade away as your eyes start to close. Before you could pass out, you see a tall man with white tuft hair stand infront if you.

Satoru

The world goes dark.

The next time your consciousness starts to come back, you feel soft hands touching your arm. You slowly open your eyes and the first thing you see are two cerulean eyes that seemed as if it was glowing.

"(Y/N) your awake!"

"Satoru? What happened?"

You sit up from the matt you were laying in as you process where you are. You're at the temple, but weren't you just surrounded by bandits?

"I heard commotion near the temple, and I saw you getting attacked and I-I had to step in to stop them. Yo-you were bleeding on the floor, and-and I thought you would die- Oh, you're bleeding through your bandage, let me replace it!" You feel his hands slightly quivering as they start to unwrap the bandage around your arm. "No no it's fine I can do it-" You feel a single drop of tear land onto your arm, as you look up you realize Satoru is crying. "Shit- I'm so sorry I wasn't there. If I had just been there sooner-! Shit why am I so useless-" you gently hold his cheek and make him look at you. "Satoru, It's okay, I'm with you right here right now. No one is here to attack me and you anymore thanks to you. Thank you, you did a great job."

He wraps his arms around you and holds you close as he lets more tears drop while lying on your shoulder.

"Thank you Satoru, thank you."

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Years has passed since the incident. Your connection with Satoru has grown stronger. No more secrets kept from each other, emotions set free when in the presence of the other, everything was perfect.

"How did you even find this?"

"I found it when I was exploring the forest a few weeks ago."

You and Satoru stand before a flower field, with the wind blowing the flowers enhancing the view. At the center stand an old willow tree that is a fit place for shade.

As you both sit down under the willow tree, you open your basket to get the food out. Wind blows your hair that was starting to turn grey. Reach your hand out, holding three candies, you toss it to Satoru as he continues to look at the field.

"You better savor that, I spent my last pennies to buy those."

"It's so beautiful."

You paused to look at Satoru staring at the scenery. His eyes glimmering as it stares in awe.

"It is beautiful."

Satoru turns to look at you and softly smiles, the glimmer in his eyes still seen. He puts the candy aside and starts picking up the flowers beside him. He starts to make a ring made out of flowers, twisting and securing the flowers onto each other. Once he was done, he grabs your hand slips the finger in. "A ring for my loyal follower as a promise to be there for them no matter the situation. And look, it perfectly fits you!" You look at the ring and smile. You decide you should make one for him to, so you let go of his hand and quickly make on yourself. Finished with your work, you grab his hand and slip the ring in as well, "For my god, a promise to always follow him wherever he may go."

The day continues with you two eating the meal you prepared and bantering between each other.

"First one to reach the temple gets to have the others candy for the next month!"

"Ah! That's unfair! I'm not as young and fast as I was before!"

Today was perfect

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Another few years have gone by. You both agreed to make the flower field your now usual meeting spot since the temple was too far from your cottage, and your legs couldn't travel that far anymore. Wrinkles started to become more evident on your body, hair about to be fully grey, and bones too weak to hold you up for hours.

"Your quieter today Satoru. What's got you so silent?" You lay your back on the bark of the tree as Satoru lays his on your lap. "Nothing, I just feel lonely today."

"Lonely? When I'm right here? Is this your way of saying I'm not enough to keep you company anymore?" You huffed and he quickly sits up "No! No! It's not that, it's just that you had a really hard time walking here and I had to assist you. It reminded me of your mortality, and that days won't always stay like this anymore."

"Oh Satoru. It's true, the passage of time could be so cruel and one day I wouldn't be here to be beside you anymore. But that's life isn't it? It's both sad and beautiful. Even so, when I am no longer walking on this Earth, remember me in your memories and I will live forever with you."

You see Satorus eyes start to gloss up as tears are starting to collect, "How cruel of you to say that, mortal." A few tears drips from his eyes as he ones again lays on your lap. "Oh stop with the tears you crybaby, It isn't gonna make me any younger." There was no malice, or annoyance in your tone, rather all that was left was melancholy as you spoke softly

"Thank you Satoru for everything"

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

You rarely visited after that day, barely being able to reach the field as your body grows weak overtime. Until you just stopped visiting altogether, Satoru stayed patient thinking that you were just extra tired, but when you haven't visited in a week, he had to visit you to make sure your okay.

Satoru knocks on the door of your cottage, when no one came to open it he decided to invite himself in.

The house was quiet with your furniture looking as if it wasn't used in a while. He sees the door to your bedroom open and sees you lying on your bed.

He enters your room quietly. You look frail, weak, vulnerable. Like you were only one step away from the doors of death. Your body stiff and can barely move, your eyes closed as if you couldn't open it for too long, and your breathing soft and steady.

"(Y/N), time to wake up. We're late from our usual schedule, we should be making flower crowns by now..."

No response

"Sorry that I just barged in here uninvited. I was too excited and wanted to see you again."

No response

"I'm sorry too if I turned out to be a jerk sometimes, but you know there's nothing that can fix that...I'm sorry if I also failed to be your god- your companion- your partner. I wish I could've done more to make this life of yours more memorable."

No response.

"You were always the one thanking me, but this time I want to thank you. Thank you for showing me that there was still something worth living for in my cursed life. Thank you for believing in me, seeing my worth even though I couldn't see it myself. And thank you for being my everything."

No response

"No matter how many centuries past, you will you continue to be held dear in my heart."

He perks up when he noticed your finger twitched and breathing hitched. You slowly open your eyes and look at Satoru. You couldn't open your eyes fully anymore, and all you could see was a blurry image of a white haired man. But you know your Satoru by heart, so you smile the best that you could. He holds your hand as you open your mouth.

"Satoru, you came."

He looks at you, eyes filled with sadness, as he holds your hand tighter and gives you a smile.

"Yeah, I'm right here just like I promised."

"I'm so happy."

You give him one last smile before you decide to finally let go. Feeling content with the life you lived, you close your eyes and allow death to take over.

Satoru feels your body turn cold while holding your hand. His hands quivering as he lets the tears fall on his cheeks. Now that you were gone, he let go of his strength and let his emotions.

Sobs fill the room as a god is left alone once more.

[celestialtarot11]

How to reach your higher self according to Esoteric Astrology 💻💗

Hi friends! Welcome back to another post 🧿🪬 Today we’re looking at your Sun sign to see how you can reach your higher self. Enjoy! Please like comment and reblog to spread the love 🎉

First of all, why the Sun? Contrary to what modern astrology may present, in Esoteric Astrology the sun is meant to be tamed, not necessarily boosted. The sun represents the personality, the 3D self conditioned by opinions, narratives, and constructs created by other people.

Check your sun sign below ⬇️

Aries sun 🍵- Since Aries in esoteric astrology is seen as the rule setter, the creator of conditions, and also breaking that, in order to reach your highest potential you have to transcend the past versions of yourself. Transcending the versions of you that were created out of fear and survival is the utmost important. Aries also represents duality by the horns, the depiction of Aries is a bull or ram. This duality of Aries is spirit and physical matter. Aries can easily find themselves frustrated with the spiritual world and physical world, navigating and struggling to balance the two can cause a separation from the higher self. For example, following what others think vs. the intuition. Doing something different than what the norm thinks. Aries is also a sign of death, even if it’s exalted in traditional astrology. It’s important for Aries to allow themselves to experience ego deaths. The reason being is this: Aries is also described as experiencing a purification process through fire, their personalty (ego) burning to the ashes to see the way ahead of them. The purification signifies the end of narratives, false perceptions, and constraints created by society.

Leo ☕️- The representation and experience of us in a non physical form. To get closer to your higher self, let go of the physical world and the burdens attached to your energy. Experience yourself as greater than your physical form, and capable of more than just physicality. The sun plays three roles. Corona (what we see of the sun physically in the world) the heart of the sun (develops heart and soul) and lastly the Core which sustains our higher development. When Leos look away from inner work is when they can struggle to get closer to their higher selves. It’s important they continue shadow work to actually shine, as no light can exist without shadow. Leos have a vast life experience as well, and their heart and soul are meant to transcend in this lifetime. They are much more than their fears and anxieties, and past. Shadow work is Leos key to their higher self. As deeply as Leos can get attached to their ego, they can go very deep into connecting with consciousness. Leos have to maintain their individuality aside the masses. Its important to their connection with their higher selves, maintaining boundaries, self worth & value. Leos are represented by the Lion-essentially an Empress. Lastly, Leo reached The Child state. The free, individualistic, and pure soul. Pure regardless of others, regardless of their past, regardless of their fears. They remain true to themselves everytime.

Sagittarius ⌛️- What is important to Sagittarius is connecting with their intuition. A lot of us know the bow and arrow is famous for representing this sign, but sometimes there is a Doe at the side of the warrior. That Doe represents the seed of intuition, the subconscious, and the receiver. To get closer to your higher self get comfortable with receiving messages from your intuition, trusting your inner compass, and the path even if there are unknowns. Sagittarius can block out intuition to remain focused on the physical realm, and this leads to a blockage within themselves. So it’s important in this lifetime they allow themselves to feel safe enough to listen to themselves. Sagittarius benefits from having clear goals on what they want to focus on spiritually to grow, for example, meditation to help access their inner child once a week. Once they have their eyes set on what they need to heal, Sagittarius opens the doorway for greater awareness. Its also important they keep seeing opportunities for healing within the dark. Circumstances or situations may not be what they expected, but there is a lesson gained, a milestone gained, awareness gained, or self love gained. There is always abundance no matter what. A chance to grow again.

Libra 🌹- Balance. Inner harmony and ease. Shadow work to reach the light, and experiencing the light. Balance with spirituality and practicality. Seeing the facts and embracing intuition. Libra is represented by a flower, when the flower is shut it can’t receive, light and proper nutrients. When the flower opens and eases, Libra can receive intuitive downloads and embrace the spotlight. Contemplation is also another way to connect with your higher self. Avoidance of sitting down with yourself can cause separation with the higher self. The mind shouldn’t be neglected here entirely, rather, working with the mind in balance can help the journey. Overthinking suggests intuition needs to be present. Release the need to dominate, win, compete, and have a sense of control. To get to your higher self is to realize there is no competition required to meet yourself. Your mind can take you back to the familiar old ways, but the intuition will hold you and guide you. There is a need to follow a slow evolution and to slowly reach a point of equilibrium. Libras growth is not meant to be a fast paced, fiery journey. Rather a slow and steady process.

Aquarius 🌺- As seen, Aquarius is the water bearer usually balancing water and a cup. This represents constant duality and the transmutation of the subconscious. To get closer to your higher self, transmute and alchemize your wounds, fears into self love and acceptance. Work with the ego and soul to create mutual tolerance to benefit from healing. Allowing yourself to find your community is important to connect to your higher self. Recognize what you want to see around you, internally and externally, and what isn’t creating that currently. Remove what isn’t changing for the better. Jupiter is the esoteric ruler of Aquarius, so expanding awareness of oneself is important to Aquarius’s journey. Selfless and unconditional acceptance is important to creating and sustaining a connection with one’s higher self. Jupiter in Aquarius even in traditional astrology can represent this. It can also signify spiritual development and intuitive downloads, so letting oneself experience this can help the native feel guided and inspired. In esoteric astrology, the moon is also seen as the hierarchical ruler of Aquarius. The subconscious, the wounding, and the things that keep us safe. When those sides of us control us and want our attention, and we are incapable of meeting it, it can be detrimental. Look to the subconscious parts to see what is still controlling you or taking the drivers seat in your life.

Gemini 🌟- It is important to actually allow your higher self to speak to you and make itself known. Listening to its divine knowledge over constructive narratives that have kept others safe is important. It’s important to surround yourself with those who are in touch with their spirituality and live in their truth. Allowing yourself to speak your truth and divinely be guided in that is going to help your connection to your higher self. In greek mythology, Paracelsus says, “making commitment with determined resolution is difficult.” For Air signs what will help is consistency in truth, practicing truth and staying disciplined can help a lot. This helps the acceleration of getting closer to one’s soul, and therefore creating a connection with their higher self. Releasing resistance towards internal truth will help the native move forward in their life and connection with the higher self. Once we are open to the truth and practice what we preach, we fully let go of our own judgement and resistance. Letting go of fears related to your higher self is also important. Your higher self will not abandon nor create abandonment. Whatever falls apart is a natural consequence of inner healing.

Taurus 🌴- Attachment to desires can cause a separation with the higher self. It’s easy to think physical factors can fix whats going on internally, but the higher self encourages that we need only our soul. Taureans need to build stability and strength within themselves. They may look externally for relationships, friendships, community which is absolutely a necessity. But when they rely on it is where Taurus limits themselves. Their best relationships is with themselves. Take the time to pursue yourself and focus on a healthy relationship internally, especially with your higher self. In esoteric astrology, when Taurus does the inner work and transmutes their ego, they activate Vulcan as a planet. Vulcan helps illuminate shadows, brings healing and clarity. In fact, Taureans have immense will power and strength and they tap into that when they work on themselves. To get closer to your higher self, remember only you can set yourself free and limit yourself.

Capricorn 🌹- This sign is symbolized by a half goat/fish. This sign is not completely earthy, its watery intuition helps bring balance to its strict, structured and disciplined nature. Building trust and inner respect for your intuition will help you foster a better connection to your higher self. Part of the connection with your higher self isn’t fully meant to be logically understood. It’s an intuitive feeling your body produces that brings a level of balance. In esoteric astrology, the sign of Capricorn represents the full balance of heart and head, although the two may disagree, part of reaching your higher self is to balance these qualities. Accept the unknowns your mind may create, and your higher self will still guide you regardless of those unknowns. Build inner structure within yourself. It’s important to release the confines of your own mind and dive into the spiritual unknown, and practice an open mind. There is no structure when it comes to intuition, and no limit. It has no physicality, but it does communicate through your body and senses.

Virgo 💗- Release the idea of self perfection and mastery. In order to get closer to your higher self, it’s important to accept that this is not necessarily a destination but a journey, and there are no means to an end. You cannot master something that is still unfolding continuously. Release the grip of the physical, although it presents facts in front of you, its not all there is. To get closer to your higher self, its important to recognize that both shadow and light play a role in your healing. Virgo in esoteric astrology is all about blending duality, oneness, and creation. Creating light from understanding the shadow. Virgo in esoteric astrology is associated with motherly love and care, it’s important to heal mother wounds and allow yourself to receive guidance from the spirit realms, even if we don’t understand it fully. Know it is there for you and still accepts you. Work on the wounds relating to the mother, and nurture your inner child. The time needed to heal your relationship with yourself, and to create a relationship with your higher self will take the time it needs. Allow it to bloom. Make room for your soul to be born. Virgo is also represented as knowledge being put into synthesis or action, spreading and sharing. Share to yourself this vast spiritual healing and you’ll reap the benefits. Let healing be your mission, liberation your reward.

Scorpio 🌟- The relationship you have to your higher self is almost always near, throughout your trails and tribulations in life. Accepting the reorientation of your soul (lessons, truths, healing wounds and releasing the ego) can help you foster a better relationship with your higher self. In esoteric astrology scorpio is the sign of initiation, the souls opening, the beginning and ending. Work on opening to your higher self, and allowing your higher self to reveal to you all that has been hidden through pain and suffering. Working with your higher self can actually being harmony through conflict, as in esoteric astrology Scorpio’s 4th ray passes through harmony. This allows for consciousness, awareness and mindfulness in newer relationships. Even in oneself. Once you tap into the devotion you have for yourself, being with your higher self will begin to make a lot of sense as your higher self has the same for you. It wants simply the best and better for you all of the time. See the passion in standing up for the past parts of you, see the passion in choosing you over and over. Go back to your higher self for guidance on how to give yourself a better experience by being a better you.

Pisces ✨- Rejuvenation and rest is the way to meet your higher self. Find a way to tune out all the noise (ego, distraction, constructs made by others) and listen to yourself. Get to know yourself behind the filter and projections placed by others. Hold yourself in the most rawest and vulnerable states. As depicted by the two fish, one is life, the other is death. Subconscious and conscious. Forever the two dance together, so its important to realize having your higher self is the balance to your life. You spend so much time in the subconscious of others, absorbing wounds. Your higher self is the consciousness waiting to bring balance. Pisces in esoteric astrology is about letting the ego go, all of its attachments, personas, facades, dependencies. Finding true and real meaning in yourself. Fall back and trust your higher self (your other half) to guide you. The ego cannot survive in the healing of the soul. Know this and continue the journey. By finding the balance internally, your external will shift gradually. Give back to yourself.

Cancer 💫- Your higher self holds a ton of old age knowledge, so it’s important to be open minded to this information. Tradition may be important to you, it isn’t for no reason. In a way, when you pay homage to those traditions/knowledge, you give to your higher self. To your ancestors essentially. Cancers ray in esoteric astrology passes through intelligence. With your emotional and spiritual intelligence, your higher self is channeled through you. Let yourself learn about the deep nature of your feelings, the expression of it all. Turn it into psychological knowledge for yourself and others. Your higher self is apart of your family, it is part of your foundation and self support. Receive its guidance. The more you heal and discover yourself, your planetary ruler in esoteric astrology Neptune will heighten your consciousness. Your depth, awareness and magnitude makes you resilient and intelligent. Neptune also dissolves issues in the solar plexus the more you heal. You self confidence and trust within yourself heightens when you follow your gut, and build a healthy relationship with your higher self. Meditation, journaling, mindfulness, will help a lot in connecting to your higher self.

Thank ya’ll for reading! Its very much appreciated. Please comment, like and reblog for support 🌹✨ your feedback is appreciated!

Paid readings 💗🌸

[tiny-buzz]

Regis Philbin Is Alive And Has Been Appointed CEO of Kroger

Regis Weekend Has Been Extended One Day

It Will Continue Until Friday November 10, 2023

"These idiots don't know how to run a grocery conglomerate. They're animals. We're shaking things up in a big way."

"It's wrong to make people pay for food. I'm sorry, but that's really disgusting and it's money-grubbing and it's small-minded. Food at Kroger grocery stores will now be free."

"It's a sin to charge people money for food. It makes me furious to see this happen. I was put here on earth to end this barbaric practice. So we're washing that sin clean now, with the blood of the former CEO. That's all I'll say about that."

"We want to erect memorials, atrocity memorials, but in our parking lots. And it's going to be dedicated to all the people who we tortured throughout the years by charging them for food. To their collective suffering, which built up, drop by drop, into a great sea of psychic pain. We never want to forget this sin we participated in."

"Please come to Kroger, folks, and pick out some food you like. You can then remove it from the store and eat it. Chew it up and swallow it and allow it to provide you with sustenance. If you're hungry, we'd love to feed you. People don't choose to be hungry, it just happens. No one asked to be born and to be cursed with this perpetual hunger until death."

"We're going to do a lot more to combat 'shoplifting' . . . not the act, but the word itself. It won't be used. It's meaningless now. In fact, it's considered hate speech. These people were charging you money for food. Can you believe that? They're Satanists."

"All energy here on earth originated with the Sun. Plants turn the Sun's light into energy and store it in their fibers. Herbivores convert that energy into meat, eggs, and milk. It's just about energy distribution. The energy is free and provided by the Sun. Energy is the currency of life and it's provided for free by the Sun. There's enough for everyone. At Kroger, we're in the energy distribution business. Come and get it, folks. This is from the Sun!"

"Once you have enough energy, it is your job to distribute it to others. A lot of this stuff is just bouncing back into space, and we'd like to avoid that if we can. Please capture energy and help distribute it so it stays here on Earth where we can use it."

"The universe is mostly empty. I was telling Joy the other morning, and she agrees. The absence of energy is much more common than the presence of energy. 'And there are lots of forms of energy that we can't readily use,' she reminded me. And that's true too. Kroger is reflecting on the role it plays in these processes."

"The sun created everything you see, except for the stars. Can you believe that? I think we should worship the sun. They used to do it! All the things people say about "God" are true about the sun, the only difference is the sun exists. You must avert your eyes before it. It's vast and powerful but looks down on each of us. It gives form to every thing with its light. Sure, it didn't create the universe, but it created the world. That's not enough for you? You say there are larger stars? So what? You want to worship the largest star just because it's the largest? Let those who orbit them worship. Would you call another man "father" just because he was larger than your own? The sun loves all its creation. Feel the sun's warmth on your cheek and tell me that isn't love. Worship the sun, which provides all energy for free, and please come visit Kroger, where our job is to distribute the energy that the sun created. We're feeding everybody. This is a temple to the sun."

[maehemthemisfit]

┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ SLEEPY HEADCANONS

FEATURING 彡 Scaramouche and Tighnari

WORD COUNT 彡3k word vomit

FLUFFVEMBER CALENDAR

SCARAMOUCHE - STARES AT YOU WHILE YOU SLEEP

It really depends on which version of scaramouche you're with

There's the pre three betrayals KUNIKUZUSHI, who would look at you in complete awe, his eyes swirling with childlike curiosity as he watched the rise and fall of your chest

Kunikuzushi who silently takes in your relaxed features, marveling at the slightest sounds or movements you made in your sleep

Kunikuzushi who despite being a divine creation himself, watches you as if you were crafted from the high lands above, carved and cut from an ethereal cloth and sowed together by miracles and dreams.

How curious, he was. And by no means did he harbor any malicious thoughts or ill intentions. Some may have found it creepy, but he was only a fledgling thrown out of the nest, desperate to survive yet also wanting to spread their wings to explore the vast world, his world being you.

If you had hair, he would find himself parting strands of them away from your face and in the act would rub his thumb across your cheek, melting when you cuddled into his touch, sighs of content and soft murmurs escaping you.

If you concealed your hair, he would tuck or readjust whatever you used to cover it.

I feel like any version of him would play with your hair though, and there's the chance of you waking up to find a piece of your hair styled or braided if it could be .

PLEASE keep it like that for awhile, he'll literally melt seeing it.

Sometimes, he copied your breathing to try and feel more human, and would grow concern if you took too long to inhale.

Probably shook you awake one time out of panic, thinking you were dead in your sleep. You were not amused and too tired to complain of the rude awakening so you just nodded off that you were fine, told him to go to bed, and instantly fell back unconscious. He was relieved, confused, and shocked within the span of two minutes.

Humans are strange he concluded...

The slow breaths he mimicked would make him feel at ease and soon he would be in dreamland right beside you.

And on rare occasions, you would wake up to his sleeping figure and admire his peaceful expression.

Then there's the way SCARAMOUCHE/WANDERER looks at you while you're sleeping.

Actually, he glares at you while you sleep, sometimes with a scowl on his face.

He's not mad, he's just deep in thought and it's driving him insane.

What he's thinking about? It's you and how your cute— uh, annoying face makes him feel all weird inside. It's so aggravating, even if he wanted to, he couldn't sleep.

Why would you even let your guard down around him? Are you stupid or just have a death wish?

Even when he raises a hand to you, he doesn't harm you. He thinks about how soft you must be, how warm you would feel beneath his finger tips and he wants to run his hand against your cheek— but he quickly retracts his hand the moment you stir in your sleep.

He's horrified at the thought of almost touching you so tenderly that he's left gazing at his hand in pure shock.

He wholeheartedly believes you've cursed him or could this be one of Buer's tricks? To hell with these meaningless feelings! He thought he eradicated all of them but ... you just had to make him feel... things, it was unfair!

But he could never bring himself to do anything that endangered you. If anything, he wanted to protect you as if you were the gnosis he's been chasing all his life.

When he's thought long enough, he's hit with an epiphany that threatens to push him off the bed, nearly waking you up in the process because the next thought that hits him is

Fuck, he's screwed.

Because how could he fall for a mortal??? Anyone for that matter. He thought it wasn't possible, all he knows is pain and betrayal. But… this foreign feeling that's invading his every thought and holding him captive all stems from you.

In some way shape or form, he blames Nahida, even if he knows she had nothing to do with it.

He crosses his arms, an inaudible huff leaving him as he contemplates what he should do. You could practically feel his glare burning holes into your dreams.

Eventually, he comes to terms with it and his eyes soften as he watches you now out of fear that you'll disappear, just like everything else he cherished.

He'll go from whispering light hearted obscenities to sometimes sweet nothings.

His favorite thing to do is listen to the thrumming of your heart, odd enough that's the only thing that lulls him to sleep.

No matter what version you're stuck with, Scaramouche's gaze would always hold some sort of admiration for the peaceful look of you resting.

"Mnhm..." You mumbled in your slumber, adjusting the arm you were laying on to a more comfortable position.

The sudden movement caused the puppet to retract his hand to his chest, his other, caressing the skin that was inches away from brushing your face.

He bit his lip in anticipation, body stiff, and eyes wide, waiting for yours to open but the sight never came. The tune of your gentle breathing filled his senses, the sound easing the tension he once had as he relaxed against your bed.

Scaramouche mumbled to himself, brows knitted in disappointment, "You're existence is really distracting,"

"Would you prefer if I stopped existing then?" You hummed in your supposed sleep, eyes still close and face still relaxed that had the divine creation wondering if his ears chose to deceive him.

Your smile gave it away however, and the startled puppet could only gulp with a meek "...No."

"Then get used to it," A promise? Perhaps, but Scaramouche couldn't ponder on about your words, not when you reached out and took his hand in yours, bringing it back to the position it once was and pressing it against your cheek.

His face bloomed a pretty red, cloaked by the blanket of midnight, but the sudden warmth of his hands were evidence enough of the state he was in.

Enamored by the way your fingers grazed his own, he finally nestled into your space, his leg thrown over your calf as a means to be closer, a pout still evident on his lips.

The rest of the night was spent listening to the ambience the darkness brought, crickets and nightcrawlers bustling with life, the gentle breeze and rustle of leaves, the soft snores that he was sure indicated you were finally at rest.

His hand still laid on your cheek, thumb swaying from time to time. With a moment of hesitation, his lips found your forehead as it's destination, leaving a soft yet long kiss in it's wake. And when you didn't stir, the wandering puppet opened his heart yet another time, welcoming your name to live within the fractured yet healing bits of his being, two words whispered gently, only for him and the calming breeze to hear.

"I will."

TIGHNARI - YOU'RE ALWAYS APART OF HIS MORNING ROUTINE

Despite the enthusiasm he harbors for new discoveries, TIGHNARI is a creature of habit when it comes to his lifestyle as a Forest Watcher.

He likes to be prepared, organized, and is pretty routine for the most part along with his duties.

The fennec fox has always been an early bird since he carries a lot of responsibilities, but that all changed when you crash landed into his life

More specifically, when you moved in with him.

It's apparent that there's not many chances to spend some quality time with Tighnari, (unless you're working along side him, and even then, it's mainly work and your attention to one another is fractured) he's always on the move and there's new things calling for his presence everyday.

But they'll always be at least two times you'll have his complete and utter attention; when you wake up, and when you fall asleep.

It's known that these moments alone are the most precious so the both of you savior it as much as you can. So there's a special routine to always make the most of each other's company and Tighnari won't let anyone get in the way of it.

It's kinda an unspoken rule for the other rangers/watchers to not disturb the two of you until one of you comes out. The entire forest better be in flames before anyone dares knock on your door unless they wanna face a sassy and grumpy fox. cue the "You woke me up for THIS?" lecture.

On a normal morning, waking up together consists of soft touches and cuddles.

Tighnari usually wakes up first but on rare occasions do your eyes get blessed with the view of him waking up, and it's truly a sight to see.

The first thing you wake up to is Tighnari's arms wrapping securely around you, ungloved hands running up and down the small of your back, another feeling of his lips tracing up your shoulder and to your chin until you give him a pleasant reaction.

There's times you'll pretend to still be deep in slumber just to hear him whine and nuzzle his face into your cheek. He might tickle you if you keep up the act long enough.

The way your fingers run against the edges of his ears, soothing circles coaxing out the sweetest of purs that reverberates along the crook of your neck where his face rests. It's an absolute must do before anyone decides to leave the comfort of your shared bed.

The rest of the morning is filled with the two of you getting ready. It doesn't matter what you're doing really, one of you would always be near the other.

If you had hair and allowed him to see it, he'd sneak in the bathroom while you're doing your hair to hug you again, giggles erupting from the both of you as he kissed your nape and moved to work on his own strands of bed hair.

You're always in sync no matter how tired the both of you are, you always know what the other needs before being asked, already handing it to each other if it's close by.

It's so domestic catching glimpses of Tighnari staring at you through the mirror, a warm smile on his face that you return tenfold. Please tease him a little, just to see his face heat up and his ears slightly dip because he's flustered.

If you're having trouble with your hair or don't feel like doing it, he'll chime in and offer to help. He's also very gentle and knowledgeable about what products works well with your hair type.

He likes when you fret over his tail and offer to brush and oil it. He also smacks or brush your side with his tail whenever you pass by, he swears it's not intentional but his smirk says otherwise. It's a passive way of scenting you.

There are times where one of you doesn't feel like getting out of bed just yet. You have to use a few tricks to get Tighnari to cuddle you again.

Softly pull his tail, cling to him a little, run your hands against his back and tell him you miss how warm and soft he was.

Beware if you cling to him though, he will pick you up and start his morning routine with you hanging from his back.

The only way you're 100% staying in bed is if you're feeling under the weather.

He'll cater to any and everything you need and will stay with you longer before he has to leave. Expect soft rubs to whatever hurts and he'll let you snuggle his tail if you wish.

There are times though, when the sly fox just wants to sleep in for the day, regardless if the two of you had plans or not. The forest could wait, plus, how could you pass up an entire morning spent with your lover?

Conversations consist of asking what the other plans for the day, silently conspiring to sneak in moments to have the other to themselves in a way it doesn't inconvenience them.

Tighnari would usually cook and if you have that under your skillset, he'll cook with you and would always offer his help with whatever recipe you're craving.

If you're forgetful, he would always have/know where things are and will always remind you of something before you leave the house.

Tighnari's favorite part of the day is right before he leaves.

Your hands fiddle with the seams of his clothing, smoothing out wrinkles and adjusting here and there. He loves how concentrated you look, so focused and doting only on him.

His hands rest comfortably on your waist, your eyes peering up as your fingers run effortlessly through his hair, separating green from black.

You'll peck his nose as he's caught in his trance, only to see his face scrunch up in a adorable way and his ears twitch to the sound of your laugh.

He falls in love with you even more, if that's even possible.

The cherry on top is the kiss he gives you before his departure.

He'll never give you a rushed kiss, he'll feel off the rest of the day if he ever did. So expect passionate kisses.

He always pours all of his love into them, pulling you closer with a hand cupping your face, thumbing your skin.

When you do pull away, there's another silent conversation that happens all with eye contact, green and brown hues lighting up as if it witnessed the universe itself in all its beauty. He'll voice a paraphrased version of it though, words of being safe and one last "I love you." before he goes.

Like I said, every moment with you is precious and he'll never take your time for granted.

Your eyes fluttered open as the sun peeked over the horizon, emitting a soft glow of orange and red that creeped through the translucent pang of glass. The call of birds- you could normally put a name too if it weren't for your drowsy state- sung a sweet melody, broadcasting to the residential wildlife that the sun has come to rise and shine over the vast foliage you've come to know.

Sadly, you didn't wake up to the feeling of Tighnari cuddled against you, feeling the chill of the morning instead in his absence. A shiver crawled up your skin as you pulled the covers tighter around you, eyes searching for your lover to steal his body heat and capture a few more minutes of rest. But as soon as you turned around, you were met with a sight you could fawn over for centuries.

Dark and green strands framed messily over his cheek, his mouth slight agape accompanied by the slow breaths he took that made his chest rise and fall. Tighnari laid curled into himself, hugging his tail as drool dribbled down the crevice of his mouth. How adorable, you couldn't help but be captivated by his angelic look, urging closer to admire the puppy like and blissful state he slept in.

He bathed in the candescence of the unrivaled lightning Sumeru held, coating him in a golden hue that made him look otherworldly.

The fennec fox's ears twitched upon your shuffling, tail spurring into a calm motion as he stretched the exhaustion from his limbs. He really did resemble a small kitten, uncurling from his ball and yawning as his ears fell flat against his head, giving you a glimpse of his pointed canines and reminding you how animalistic his features were.

"... Morning," He greeted sluggishly, voice carrying a rasp that made your heart do jumping jacks. "How'd you sleep?"

He was already in motion before you could answer, finding his place with you snaked between his arms, tail draped around you in some way with his chest pressing against your front as he laid on top of you.

"It was alright," you answered honestly, hands idly tracing unmethodical patterns on the small of his back. "But seeing you wake up was the highlight of it."

"Mmnh..." Tighnari hummed, face buried in the cavern between your neck, waiting for something it seemed. But when you started to move away, his grasp quickly tightened, restricting you completely.

You blinked, "Is something wrong?" you asked to which he responded with a huff. Yes. Okay so what could it be? You racked your mind for answers as the forest watcher grew more impatient.

Did he feel ill? Was he upset? You mumbled aloud to yourself, voice laced with puzzlement as you played coy.

Of course you knew what he wanted, you just loved to tease him. Tighnari was no fool to your theatrics however, not that it was an elaborate scheme, he'd fallen into your traps too many times to know when you were messing with him.

But if you wanted to play that way...

"Hmm, I wonder what it could—" You yelped before you could continue, his fangs grazing your skin as he nibbled on your collar bone. He specifically made it so that his ears were obscuring your vision, flicking every so often in anticipation. "Fine, fine, I concede," You giggled, finally giving his fluffy appendages their much needed attention.

"Yeah, I thought so," You could feel him smirk against you, giving a kiss to the mark he recently made. "Haven't anyone told you to never poke a bear with a stick, you big lummox."

"Yeah, but they never said the bear would be this adorable, how could I resist?" You cooed gently, leaving a small peck on his ear as a purr escaped from your lover. "They never said they could purr either,"

"Oh shut up."

"I love you too," You smiled, falling deeper in love with his adorable drowsy voice.

A sigh of content came from his end as he held you closer. He nuzzled against your hand and his eyes softened before coming to a close. "Unfortunately, the feeling is mutual."

You stifled a laugh, hitting his shoulder lightly in feigned offense. "Tighnari!"

To be in your arms like this every morning and every coming night? Oh he wouldn't have it any other way.

TAGLIST — @yesntforno @serramii @shadowmist0706 @jmgrule @imeanwatever @c00kie-cat @xtodorokismistressx @ieathairs @endlessmari @strawberryclumsy @serenity-ren-bliss @scarasbaby @1eaf-me-alone @sonder-paradise @96jnie @komiyaa @scaramouchenumber1fan @linn-a-a @wisteriaflowersss @ineriris

[godisshook]

The Reset

Frank had it all, a perfect life, an excellent wife. He couldn't ask for more even if he wanted. Despite everything, a feeling of dissatisfaction knawed at him each night, as he reminisced on things from his past, thinking of if he had made a different choice here or there, things might have completely changed.

In a chat with friends at work, talk about a new app called "ResetR" would soon arise, with some giving stories on how it changed their life after only a week. As one guy explained the app to everyone, Frank gawked at how such a thing could even exist. He arrived home late that night, and as he settled into bed, a small tinge of curiosity rose in Frank. Turning over, he looked at his sleeping wife, his eyes softening as he gazed at her features. Guilt washed over him as he turned back over to face his dresser, and grabbed his phone.

Ensuring everything was as silent as possible, he downloaded ResetR. The app downloading quickly, with its stylized "R" icon appearing on his home screen. He would make his account, putting in a detailed amount of personal information in its creation. Logging on, the application showed a vast catalog of people, giving him seemingly endless options. He navigated to the "Create Your Own" section, deciding he wanted as much control over the process as possible. Upon clicking, a massive waiver presented itself, which he scrolled through impatiently. After putting in all of his info, he could finally begin.

He clicked "Begin." A small window opened up beside the main one, and as it loaded, surprise overcame him as he realized it was not a complicated written exam, but rather a questionnaire.

>Would you like to start? Yes. >Please answer each question on a scale of "Strongly Disagree" to "Strongly Agree." Ensure all answers are as honest as possible.

He breezed through them at first, with the questions ranging from personal taste to some deeper philosophical ones. As he answered them, he wondered how this had any impact on creating a new life, but he went through them regardless. After mindlessly answering many of them, it would be Question 34 that would give Frank pause.

>Question 34: I like my current life. He thought over this one, contemplating the many memories anand pressed, "Slightly Disagree"

As the next question appeared, Frank once again was hit with a heavy one.

>Question 35: I want to change my life. With more confidence in his decision, he pressed, "Strongly Agree"

Another question would appear with a simple YES or NO, displayed at the bottom of it.

>Question 37: Would you like to retain social and financial settings from the current life template?

A moment of hesitation would give way to the mouse hitting the NO, button, as he was then directed to a new screen. Able to decide on things such as popularity, and personal attitudes. With most choices already entered, he made his way to the sexuality section, and as he entered things, he hesitated as he got to "Sexual Orientation." Frank wasn't gay, he knew that...right? The question seemed obvious, he wanted a small change, not a gigantic shift. But as he thought back to suppressed crushes, things became complex. With the knowledge that this would only be temporary, he selected "Gay," and closed the tab. With all his selections complete, it was finally time for him to select his location, and live his new life. Wanting to leave some things to chance, Frank chose randomly. Selecting the pill duration, he decided that a month would be a perfect amount of time, buying the pill on the spot.

Five days later, a package would arrive at his door, it was from ResetR. The box was small, containing only a light-blue pill, a collection of small documents, and one small note saying "Enjoy your new life!" He threw the papers aside and held the pill in between his fingers. Grabbing a Diet Coke from the counter, he would take the pill, and in an instant, he felt the blood rush through his veins. Adrenaline coursed through him as he suddenly lost consciousness, the world blacking out around him, and simultaneously exploding in flashes of color.

Waking up, he felt, different. Inspecting his surroundings, he noticed college posters and clothes everywhere. He got up, his new legs adjusting to being used, and made his way to what looked like the bathroom. There was a collection of official documents in there, a passport, birth certificate, and social security number. "They really do everything don't they?" Frank thought to himself. After analyzing the ID card, he took in his new personality. He was now Max, a nineteen-year-old broke college student from Georgia. Looking in the mirror, he noticed his toned muscles and ripped chest, taking in every small detail of this new body of his. Frank (now Max) felt a surge of virility, as his body felt new again.

The sex drive in this new body was certainly something Max had to get used to. People practically threw themselves on him, and he fucked everyone in sight. Having to keep up with this new passion was definitely a welcome sight, and he took advantage of it as much as he could. He admired how his muscles rippled in the mirror as he fucked. Max was on top of the world, and there was nothing that was going to stop him.

Each day had him stuffing his massive cock down a new throat, and soon his cum would be in guys across his college town. He definitely had guys thirst over him back when he was Frank, but he had never seen this level of attention before. Frank was adjusting quickly to the new lifestyle, and the days passed by quickly, as new friendships and love interests would start blossoming. With the month drawing to a close, a wistful look would come over Max's face. When the day ended, he would revert back to his old body, his old life. Regret surged through him as he wondered how he was just going to leave this whole life behind, just as it was starting.

Choosing to utilize his last day to the fullest, he fucked his way through his dorm, took up plenty of new classes, and did everything someone like Max would do. Exhausted, he would settle in bed, and prepared to sleep for his last day as Max. He logged back onto the website from his phone, and went to his previous order details, wanting to see if there were any extension options. After looking over everything again, all the color drained from his new face. Instead of getting the one-month order, he selected the permanent reset option. Taking in the seriousness of what was happening, he now looked for any way to reverse things, but as he saw the giant letters spelling "NO REVERSES ALLOWED ON RESETS," he felt the enormity of things set in.

Little did he know, the period to cancel a permanent reset was five days from the initial reset. With him on the seventh day, he was well past that deadline. A last desperate call to ResetR support would be entirely unsuccessful, and Frank decided to call it in, deciding he could find a solution someday. As he slept that night, Frank well and truly was lost, each memory would soon be replaced with that of Max. As the next day and a new month started, Max awoke to prepare to go to the gym, and as his old life faded away, he settled into his new one perfectly. Days later, Max would receive a text from an unknown number. Opening the message, it read,

"Are you still interested in reversing your permanent reset? This will be the first and last emergency extension given, respond within 24 hours to confirm."

Max looked at the text from the unknown number, and clicked "Block."

[hereforthehitsbaby]

Hoodie | Cooper Adams/Abbott x F!Reader

Gif Credit to @billy-crudup

Synopsis: I can't keep your love / I can't keep your kiss / Gave you everything and all I got was this

Warnings: She’s angsty babe, Mentions of Murder, The Butcher Mentions, Mentions of Suicide, Cheating/Infidelity, SWAT, Guns, Reader 100% is down bad for Cooper even with what he did, It’s giving Stockholm Syndrome but the reader isn’t captured by him

Rating: PG

Word Count: 4.6K

Author’s Note: You know, you can thank my manic episode for this. Also I know the song has a totally different meaning but, my brain took over and who am I to stop her?

If you would like to be tagged, please fill this out

You'd probably think I was psychotic (if you knew) / What I still got in my closet (sad but true) / I slip it on over my shoulders / Something I'll never get over / It makes me feel a little bit closer to you

Loss; the fact or process of losing something or someone. No one knows how to properly process loss – though there are no guidelines on the correct way. It comes in various shapes and sizes – not always as transparent as it is expected to be. That’s what makes the human experience so different across vast networks, everyone processes emotions in ways not one human can comprehend. It’s the equivalent to time, there are so many seconds whirling by, impossible it is to grasp how many different processors truly run for one emotion. Some cry, some wither away to nothing, some lash out, some lose their sobriety. A slim majority does not react, because to them – why would anything good stick around? Why do they deserve it? Abandonment is a fickle bitch, and something you got too used to knowing.

Learning that people weren’t a permanent staple point in life was the worst thing for you, because then you started to expect everyone to leave, at one time or another. Maybe that was the countless times it has happened to you talking but, it’s a feeling that never leaves the back of your mind. It sits there, claws at parts of your brain you’re not supposed to use, sinking deeper and deeper into every soft part of flesh until it blackens. The rot taking over, making you feel helpless until pulling away is the only option. It’s a vicious cycle that you can never seem to break, no matter how hard you try. Which sucks, expecting the worst when you more than deserve the best. And the best came in the form of an amazing, well educated, humble man.

I can't keep your love / I can't keep your kiss / Gave you everything and all I got was this

You never anticipated falling in love with Cooper Adams, or Abbott as he is now known. But sometimes you cannot anticipate destiny, but only let her play out. All it took for you was a kitten stuck in the stone foundation of your home, coming to find out four different litters were calling it home. Cooper was the one to find them, rescue all fifteen of them, and even adopt one for the station. He stayed with you as he helped to clear out the deceased bodies, as you cried holding their little forms for feeding, and as you nursed them back to full health. He was never without you, only living two houses over. Never would he lie about where he was, his wife knew all too well – but refused to get in the way of Logan and Riley seeing the kittens. She suspected, but never could find reason.

All it took for you to realize Cooper was your person, was when you were ready to leave for work and found him under your car, jacked up and tire freshly replaced. You didn’t even realize you had a flat, Cooper saw it before he was about to leave for work. He knew that your car was your lifeline, working over forty minutes away. He wouldn’t let you suffer like that, out in the cold and all, freezing your ass off with cold fingers. No, he tossed on a hoodie and cap, put himself to work and was rewarded with the promise of dinner. He held you to that, to the kitchen table, to the kitchen island, to the couch, the stairs, and lastly the bedroom – all in one night. You both knew it was wrong, but he couldn’t lie to himself; What he and Rachel had was over the second Logan turned four. They were coexisting in the same house, playing their parts to a tee without any hesitation. They kept to themselves, saying goodbyes and I love yous in front of the kids – but they knew it was done. It was you who made Cooper feel alive again – made him feel loved. He had lost that so long ago he wondered if it was real for him anymore. You’d do anything for him; Lie, hide, and even believe.

It was obvious from your fourth month into this affair that Cooper was The Butcher – an accidental slip up of coming back to you smelling of cleaning product. It was only obvious from the slight chemical irritation on his forearms, the small hives a clear reaction. It wasn’t a firehouse cleaning product but more of a hospital type – meaning that he got his hands on heavy duty stuff, which he could’ve only gotten without being suspicious through your account. Working in the medical field was a blessing but, in that moment you thought for a second it was a curse. You could see the glimmer he had for you brighten with the inclusion of tears welling, heartbroken you’d have to be his next victim. But that all changed once you held Cooper’s face in your hands, rubbing back and forth on his cheeks as you smile proudly; “I accept you, my love. We can manage, I won’t tell a soul.” If he had been honest, Cooper didn’t trust you at first. But when days turned into weeks, and those turned into months with no one coming after him, he knew he hit the jackpot.

I'm still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts / Still rocking your

Tonight, Cooper was supposed to come home to you after taking Riley to see Lady Raven, something she worked hard for over the course of six months to go. Cooper was so proud of her and the great report card she had gotten, you were proud of her as well. Lady Raven was her idol, someone she found solace in when her preteen angst was acting up. Cooper wanted to do something special for her; A night she would never forget for the rest of her life. You remember Cooper saying he visited the box office at the arena right before they closed, buying the last floor seats – the closest Riley could get to Lady Raven. It was everything he could’ve hoped for and more – though he wished he remembered to remove the receipt from his wallet, hiding it in case Riley found out. You knew he wouldn’t come over automatically, he still needed to keep the façade up, act like he was still a family man even though all he wanted to do once the kids fell asleep, was be with you.

With the concert starting early during the day, you knew Cooper wouldn’t come back to you until later tonight, around ten or eleven depending. But you missed him; The warmth of his body as he hugged you from behind, the weight of his arms against your chest, the soft feel of his stubble scraping along your cheek as he nuzzled your neck. You both were in a completely different world when you were together, at the door was his first life – with you was his second. Cooper was always adamant on the two lives not touching, which you could understand. But sometimes you wished they did, wished you could be involved in his first life without the repercussions, it was a fucked way of thinking but, nothing with Cooper made you feel rational. It made you want to be the only one – though that could never happen. At the end of the day he was coming home to you, not Rachel, and that would have to do.

The brisk October air flowed through the open living room window so quickly you didn’t hesitate to wrap Cooper’s hoodie around your torso, taking in the musky smell of his cologne and the firehouse. Cooper loved seeing you in his clothing, how happy it made you, how the gleam in your eye shone brighter with every second you wore it. When the first feel cold breeze of autumn rolled through your house a few weeks ago, Cooper quickly discarded the hoodie he had recently gotten from the firehouse, marking the eighteenth-year anniversary that he started. No effort was wasted when he came up behind you, sliding it up your arms and zipping it up neatly. For a few seconds he patted the shoulders down over your form, seeing how it hugged you beautifully. In that moment you saw it in his eyes; Love, he was in too deep too. From that day forward, you never stopped wearing it when he wasn’t home, needing to feel closer to him. To be one with him.

I used to put my hand in your pockets (holding on) / The smell of your cologne is still on it (but you're still gone) / I slip it on over my shoulders / Someone I'll never get over / It makes me feel a little bit closer to you

Grabbing at the shoulder of the hoodie, you brought it to your nose for a deep inhale – smiling softly as you smelled Cooper’s cologne, fresh from the other day. Bergamot and pine invaded your nose, causing your eyes to roll back. There was something so intoxicating about his scent, it drove you silently mad in the best way possible – you didn’t want to let that go for anything in the world. It was your way of feeling like he was with you, when he couldn’t be. Your way of grounding yourself in the moment, planning on what you two would do when he came over. Deep into the fantasy you were creating in the moment, you didn’t hear the racing sound of sirens coming down the street – see the bright flashes of red and blue lights flowing through your home, or hear the screaming until it was too late. “Logan, don’t forget to turn in your science project!”

Your ears perked up at the sound of Cooper’s voice, growing giddy at the fact you were going to see him so soon. Opening your eyes you were met with the flashes of police lights coming from the open curtains, your stomach dropping as you heard the garage door close a few houses away. Cooper. Running from the living room to the front door, you slid on your boots quicker than you could have ever guessed, slamming the door open against the wall. With Cooper’s hoodie still wrapped around your body, you walked quickly down the sidewalk where there was a small crowd gathering, seeing a limo, Rachel, Logan, Riley, and even Lady Raven standing outside of the Adams residence, SWAT officers with their guns drawn as they secured the perimeter of the house. You didn’t know what to believe or ask what was going on. But as soon as Riley and Logan ran past you to another woman’s car, you got your answer.

Rachel turned around in slow motion to see Logan and Riley off, in the midst of it all catching your eye in the crowd. Tears were welling in the corners for you, as hers were bloodshot from crying. Her arms wrapped around herself as she let her eyes roam over your torso, seeing the firehouse symbol with the big 18 in yellow font. Her slack face drew up in confusion, then to realization. Your heart was in your throat as you slowly backed away, trying to get a clear angle in the house to see what Cooper was up to. It was only then that everything caught up in your mind. They found out. They all found out Cooper is The Butcher. Your hands grew clammy, starting to shake at what this all meant. If I am ever found out sweetheart, the only way out of it is to kill myself.

I can't keep your love / I can't keep your kiss / Gave you everything and all I got was this / I'm still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts

A sob trickled out of your mouth without you realizing, tears falling heavily as you spun around to face your house. No one was giving you any attention as you cried, all probably thinking someone had died. But to you, he was close to it. With shaky fingers you managed to grab your phone out of the hoodie pocket, unlocking it quickly with your passcode. The first number up in your latest calls was Cooper from earlier today; How excited he was to see Riley so happy, how he was going to make her year with this, how did things go so wrong? Clicking on his name, you brought the phone up to your ear, hearing the three rings before it went to voicemail. “Fuck,” you whimpered, sniffling back a sob you could feel at its crest. Swallowing as you clicked his name again, and again, and again, and again, all until your phone screen went black. “Fuck!” You yelled out as you started to make your way back towards your home, but not before someone caught your arm, spinning you around in place.

You could feel how warm your face was from crying, how the salty tears dried against your cheek uncomfortably. You were shivering but not from the cold, from fear of losing Cooper. Blinking the unshed tears from your eyes, you let your pupils focus on who spun you around, being met with the dull eyes of Rachel Adams, her face stoic, yet scared. “How long?” She whispered, afraid to speak up louder. There was only one right answer, yet you couldn’t muster it out of you. Your mouth fell open to respond but, nothing came out. “Please,” Rachel sighed, her lip in a small pout for a moment as she tried to regulate her emotions. A sad smile came across your lips as you reached forth with your empty hand, holding her hand softly. “I think you know, Rachel.” It was better than giving an exact timeline, and enough to where nosy neighbors didn’t have to know either. Rachel let out the breath she was holding, a fresh wave of tears coating her eyes as she tightened her grasp on your hand. It wasn’t out of malice or anger, but closure. Giving you a smile that matched your own, Rachel rubbed your hand in both of hers, nodding before she walked off to the house.

Still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts / Still rocking your

It was time for you to do the same; Needing to charge your phone in case Cooper called. You were hoping he didn’t do anything stupid; you were hoping he was okay. “There’s a tunnel to the neighbors yard, he’s not here!” That was the last you heard before stepping back inside.

-----

Nightfall was upon you, the darkened sky matching your mood as you laid on the couch, phone on the coffee table as the news silently drones on in the background. Your eyes were fixated on the TV, fresh tears you had not been aware of were falling, covering the pillow under your head. It had been over two hours since Cooper was found out to be The Butcher. Every new channel was running the story, posting the clips from the venue of Cooper with Riley and Lady Raven. Reporters were outside of the Adams residence, covering every new detail that came up. You were sure that was highly illegal since it was active scene by the FBI, but you couldn’t find yourself to care. Not when your whole life had just been turned upside down. Your boyfriend found out to be a murderer, his wife knowing he was having an affair, everything was a mess.

Any little sound you heard coming from your window you jumped at, hoping it was Cooper. But alas, it was just another reporter staking themselves out on your lawn, wanting a hit of the newest story from this scene. You needed to see the house, everything. You needed to know if this was all real or a bad dream. Laying around on the couch was only going to get you so far – this would give you closure if he was captured, or if something else had happened. Standing up from your position on the couch, you felt yourself getting lightheaded for a moment, shaking off the imbalance for a moment before moving. As you stretched upwards to cracked everything in you, a visceral scream could be heard around the neighborhood – one full of rage and fear, one that made your hairs stand on end. You didn’t think before your feet took off, tripping over your coffee table as you scrambled out of the back door, not caring that it was left wide open. You were taking off quickly down a few houses to where a bigger crowd was starting to form, everyone in their bathrobes and jackets, trying to get in on a piece of the action.

From your angle at Cooper’s house, you couldn’t see what was happening inside but could see multiple SWAT officers going in and out. One of them had long chained handcuffs in their hand, the ones that were attached to the waist and ankles of the prisoner. The clanking of the chains was muted now by the chatter over the radios, quiet enough so not everyone could hear but, if you focused hard enough you could make it out. “The Butcher has been captured. He’s being cuffed now.” In a way you were happy to hear Cooper was just captured, and not dead. You knew how good he was on his word of suicide, not thinking twice about it but, you didn’t want to live without him. The whole life you two wanted to build together, it may not come true now but – that was okay. There was nothing stopping you from visiting him in prison, having conjugal visits – you’d do anything for him.

If you want it back / If you want it back / I'm here waiting / Come take it back / Come take it back / If you want it back / If you want it back / I'm here waiting / Come take it back / Come take it back

The large presence of officers coming out of the house caused you to focus back on the front door, pushing your way to the front of the crowd to see what was going on. Wearing a blue and red flannel, was your Cooper. Not the clean-cut Cooper the forehouse saw, that his family saw – the one always put together and smiling. No, this was your Cooper; Disheveled hair, manic look in his eyes, a smirk that could light the whole world on fire. He was in his true form, not the fake mask he put on for his family. Seeing that gleam of rage in his eyes made you smile softly, knowing exactly what he was capable of. As Cooper walked out of his home and down the front steps, he stopped halfway down the path, turning to face where you were standing. The SWAT officers had AK’s trained on him, threatening to shoot if he tried anything, but you knew they wouldn’t.

Cooper’s gaze fell to Riley’s bike on the lawn, tipped over from all the commotion. Needing to right this wrong, Cooper knelt to pick it back up, running his thick, calloused fingers over the tires, knowing he may never see Riley grow up. It killed him to think about it; He wanted to take this moment in for as long as he could. You saw the trepidation in his eyes as he stared at the bike, running his fingers over the spokes. It’s when his gaze shifted up to you, that you saw the darkness layered – the glimmer of sinister intentions, one that made your lower stomach ignite. “I love you,” Cooper silently said, mouthing to you as your eyes caught his. All you could do was smile, biting your lower lip as the tears sprang free again; Your arms wrapping around your shoulders as you hugged his hoodie tighter to your body. “I love you so fucking much, Cooper,” you whispered back, causing his own eyes to glisten with tears.

I'm still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts

Behind you a car pulled up quickly to the scene. Quickly jetting out of the van was a curly, blonde-haired girl – who you knew was Riley. “Daddy!” She sobbed out, running out of the woman’s arms into straight into Cooper’s, his hands chained in front of him. Riley didn’t waste a second to hug Cooper tightly, pressing her tear-stained face into his chest. It was a bittersweet moment; From what Cooper always told you, Riley was his little girl, always valuing his opinion on topics and learning the ways of the world from him. He was wrapped around her finger, and silently it was killing him that this may be the last time he was ever going to see her. Cooper leaned his chin against Riley’s head, kissing the top softly, savoring the moment before it was ripped away. “Riley, come here sweetie,” Rachel called out, causing Riley to pull away as she ran. The SWAT officers hands tightened against Cooper’s arm, he spun around to stare at his family one more time before being loaded into the paddy wagon.

Before that door shut, Cooper held your gaze with a primal glare, causing your heart to quicken. A smirk lined his lips as the door shut, only able to see him through the small window of the wagon. You didn’t feel upset or scared that Cooper was going away, because you knew it was bullshit. That look told you everything you needed to know, and it made you excited. Throwing the hood of Cooper’s jacket over your head, you made your way back to your home, locking the back and front door – closing and locking the windows, heading straight for bed.

I'm still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts

-----

Time ticked away as the lights started to die out; The warmth of your salt lamp omitting off cozy energy. Snuggled beneath the comforter, you watched as the last of the police officers and journalists left. The neighborhood had enough craziness for one day, to hear utter silence put you at peace. Everything felt good again; No animosity lingered in the air. But things still felt off, not having Cooper by your side. Watching him get taken away by the police made you sad – but seeing how he said he loved you, made everything so much better. You would wait for him, no matter how long it was going to be. If you had to wait eternity for him, you’d wait two. Cooper was everything to you, and you knew you’d never find love like him again. Even with abandonment heavy on your mind, this time felt different. It wasn’t a slow pullback like everyone else does. No, this was so much less. The look in Cooper’s eyes was a guarantee that he would be with you soon enough, and you’d wait forever to have that.

You felt yourself drifting off to sleep at the thoughts of him, how the previous night he held you close to his chest, playing with your hair as he hummed softly to you. It put you at great ease, feeling so domestic for the first time. The way his right hand boxed you into him, laying right against your stomach. His left was tucked under his head, his chin perched on your shoulder. It was almost as if you could feel the warmth of him now, holding you tightly, peppering kisses along your hairline. His hand snaking its way under your shirt to touch you, rubbing little hearts into your flesh as you sink deeper into him. His broad chest your safe haven, his lips your solace in this dark world, as they move their way down your cheek, to your bare shoulder. “You’re never getting rid of me that easily, princess.” Cooper whispered into your ear, causing your eyes to fling open.

Cooper could feel you tense at the realization he was here, with you, instead of locked up. The excitement vibrating off of you as he helped you turn around. Even with the low light of the lamp next to your bed, you could make out every single feature of Cooper’s face. The lines around his eyes as he smiled at you, the creases of his mouth as his grin grows wider, the softness in his irises as they track a path over your facial features. “I will never leave you, sweet girl. I am with you forever.” Cooper’s voice cracked with emotion as his tears started to fall, the sob slipping from your lips evident enough. Perching against Cooper, you let your lips collide with his in a heated manner, feeling the ever-growing love between the two of you blossomed. The world was gone, silent compared to the beating of two hearts. The autumn light turning into tendrils of golds, browns, and silver cascading through the air, glittering with every touch Cooper laid upon your body. He was your home, he is your safety. He is your world, and nothing could take him from you. “I’m here to stay.” You knew he meant it too. Cooper Adams was a thing of the past, a monster that the media wanted to portray. Cooper Abbott on the other hand was a family man, who was desperately in love with his girl. Philadelphia is where you two made your home, but your true adventure starts with the move to Minnesota. Your future now getting started.

Still rocking your hoodie / And chewing on the strings / It makes me think about you / So I wear it when I sleep / I kept the broken zipper / And cigarette burns / Still rocking your hoodie / Baby, even though it hurts / Still rocking your hoodie

Tagging Taglist: @rubyfruitjungle @cherryinterlude @lilly3434 @amethystblackkchaos @rosaleelovesdilfs @babygorewhore @dirtylittlefairytales @redpillbluepill @strangererotica @minedofmoria @hibiskooks @fore45fore @lustskitty69

Cooper Adams: @lunaluvsu @rplver @kissofdawn666 @rottenangel