miasmaia
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"Bill was a lot of things. Malevolent, funny, intelligent.
Dead, for the most part.
What he wasn’t, was a damn coward. Death may have kicked his ass in the past, but he wasn’t taking that lying down. Sure, maybe he spent most of his days throwing furniture at the walls and terrorizing some mice, but the important thing was that he was staying calm."
or, bill cipher is a ghost under indefinite house arrest. he is not handling it well.
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“Here’s the deal,” he says and he’s still smiling, but Ford can see the danger beneath that smile. “I’ve pissed off some powerful people. You, my dear, are going to help me kill them."
Bill is only asking because he has no other option, that much is obvious. Ford knows him well enough, loathe as he is to admit it, to know it is desperation that brought him here, to Ford’s door.
“And if I don’t?” Ford knows the answer to this already, but it’s better to hear it said. To know this is not a social call. That this means nothing.
He scoffs, cocking his head. “God, Fordsy, I thought you knew better. If you don’t, then you’ll die! Capeesh?”
bill is a vampire. he and ford are exes. things are... complicated.
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coming from the cold by miasmaia
Fandoms: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer, Twilight Series - All Media Types
08 Aug 2024
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"He really was beautiful, that much was clear. His skin was pale, almost marble like, and I could recall from the few times we’d touched that it was cold. Like stone. Even now, as we walked, he was still. Graceful. Like a moving statue. His hair was a dark reddish brown. In the sunlight, perhaps, the red might shine brighter, like painted copper. And his lips were full.
I probably shouldn’t have looked at his lips."
or, bella and edward meet in college. only a few people end up dead.
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Bill Cipher has made no progress in the Theraprism. If anything, he’s spent the past three hundred years deteriorating quicker than the orderlies can put him back together. Maybe that’s why he wakes up in the dirt outside the Mystery Shack three years after his failed Weirdmageddon, trapped in a powerless human body he'd rather explode than inhabit, stuck in a town he hates with all his squishy human heart.
Summer in Gravity Falls is never normal; with a former chaos god thrown into the pot, things are gonna get weird. That weirdness could prove fatal if he refuses to face what he's spent a trillion years repressing. Bill's fate lies in the Pines family's hands (and though none of them know it just yet, the Pines family's fates lie in Bill's).
Bookmarked by miasmaia
22 Sep 2024
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if the story's over by astrolesbian
Fandoms: 人渣反派自救系统 - 墨香铜臭 | The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
26 Aug 2021
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Generally, Shen Qingqiu only visits him at work when he’s really got something to yell about—protagonist dick size or sex pollen caves or weird poisons that Shang Qinghua forgot to invent cures to, or something. Today, he says, “Look, there’s news and I thought you should hear it from me.”
Shang Qinghua doesn’t look up from his papers at first. “Okay, sure,” he says, absently—how much money are they spending on incense again? Absolutely fucking absurd—and glances up when Shen Qingqiu remains silent. “What is it?”
Shen Qingqiu folds the fan and taps it nervously against his palm. “Mobei-jun’s getting married,” he says.
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Bookmarked by miasmaia
14 Sep 2024
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“So.” Ford drums his fingers on the car steering wheel. “This cross-state road trip. Is that, uh, part of the whole ‘making amends’ thing?”
“Nope.” Pops Bills, which is floating-triangle-pretending-to-be-a-car-freshener speak for yes, and you’re going to hate every minute of it.
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He is no longer waiting for you and hasn’t been for years. Somewhere, a funeral is held for you. Somewhere, moss grows over your gravestone—new life upon old sins. The earth is forgiving. One day the wounds you’ve inflicted will close and new flesh will knit itself over the hurt and become soft again. Still, between you and me, I know this is no happy ending. I know you would trade his life to keep his eyes on you.
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“Finish it out,” he grits between clenched teeth. “Go on. Ask it.”
Nolan shifts in his seat. “Are or are you not attracted, at the very least, to Wilson?”
House knocks his forehead against his cane. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
[In which Nolan pulls at the Wilson thread, and House can't stop it all from unraveling. Repression is a hell of a drug.]
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Bookmarked by miasmaia
27 Jul 2023