#all aboard for angst

[comatosebunny09]

“I’m leaving.”

“What? Why?”

Laugh. “Because I hate you.”

Scoff. “I’m sure all of the N109 knows that. That isn’t anything riveting, sweetie. Tell me the truth.”

“That is the truth.”

“…”

“I hate you, Sylus.” I hate that I’m not the cause of your smile.

“…”

“I hate working for you. You’re a literal slave driver.” I hate that I can’t shake this feeling.

“And the hours here suck.” It hurts to stay. To watch you slip between my fingers.

“Is that truly why you want to leave?”

Nod. “Yeah. Think I’ve overstayed my welcome here.” I hate that I love you. I hate that you’ll never feel the same. “‘sides, think it’s time I take my talents elsewhere. Go work for someone who appreciates how often I break my nails, ya know?” You don’t need me anymore. You never needed me.

Scoff. “It sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

Too much.

“You’ve made up your mind.”

“Yeah.” I made up my mind the moment I knew you I lost you. I just held on a little longer, foolishly hoping things would change. That I would see that old ‘you’ again. The ‘you’ who coveted me.

“Don’t suppose I can convince you to stay?”

Snort. “Nah.” I can’t. I hate who I am with you. I hate who I am without you. It’s not fair. It’s not—

“Even for a raise?”

Scoff. “Sylus.” All the money in the world could never staunch this bleeding heart.

Shrug. Chuckle. “Can’t fault a man for trying.”

Chase me. Shout at me. Hate me back. Put up a fight. Tell me you need me. You want me to stay. You can’t live without me. Don’t let me go. Don’t let me—

“I’ll consider your absence an extended vacation. The doors to Onychinus are always open to you. Take care of yourself, sweetie.”

Dammit.

“You too, bossman.”

I was here from the beginning. Through thick and thin. At your worst. At my worst. But she was here first, wasn’t she? Taking up the space in your heart all along. Long before I even knew your name.

Long before I convinced myself you could be mine.

[elipri]

[mateo-diaz]

I told the truth, oh, but you didn't like it, you went home

[no1onepiecefan]

i love the idea of marco on the red force and as the only devil fruit user on the ship, he has fifty pirates ready to jump into the sea for him at all times.

shanks & co who watch marco like a hawk whenever he’s on the deck like he’s not a veteran of over thirty years. marco who subsequently taunts them all with their kind concern; gestures of jumping off the ship and pretend stumbling. there’s hushed specific instruction for whoever’s on watch to keep an eye on him whenever he’s close to the edge, and if it wasn’t so amusing it would be so sweet.

none of their concern would be expressed openly, no way. they all think they’re being casual and nonchalant as they collectively tense up watching marco kick his legs while fishing. they all think they’re unnoticeable and smooth when someone always conveniently needs a bath at the same time marco does. shanks thinks he’s hilarious and charming whenever he puts his arm around marco’s waist, wiggling his eyebrows, like marco didn’t notice the quick intake of breath as he leaned a little too far over the edge of the ship admiring the scenery.

marco doesn’t mind it. he just laughs at their antics and enjoys the harmless attention. he never digs into why they’re so jumpy, why would he assume anything deeper than a crew full of non-df users orientating a df-user? however, after enough shared drinks and lips loosened with alcohol it’s revealed that none of them ever shook that day in the east blue. they all remember when luffy was dropped into the ocean and their captain returned with one hysteric anchor in his hold and one less arm. shanks bet his arm on the future but there’s no doubt he’d sacrifice another for a friend. he really is such a high maintenance captain. the horrid fear of losing luffy and the catastrophic aftermath of the event lives with them all; and for their unfortunately infinite love for shanks, and their growing care for marco, they’re not trying to repeat the past.

i don’t think the drunken confession would shake marco, his captain was whitebeard after all, and his family included the likes of portgas d ace and oden to name a few. he knows recklessness, he knows fear, and he knows loving concern maybe more than anyone on the sea. however, the confession is something, and maybe marco stays more central on the red force, invites people to bathe with him and lets others do the fishing. maybe when shanks wraps an arm around his waist, he reciprocates with an arm around his shoulder, laughing at the shock on his face

[spicycinnabun]

@118dailydrabble for day 2 prompt family ♡ rated: g ♡ pair: buck/tommy ♡ tags: a/b/o dynamics, nesting, rejection sickness, omega!buck

Hours before Tommy broke up with him, Buck started making a nest. 

His heat was near, hormones raging. He was getting way ahead of himself—even though it didn’t feel that way, his rational brain knew it—but his instincts were screaming at him to prepare for a pup, for a home, for family.

The nest needed more materials, half-assembled with the blanket they slept under and Tommy’s clothes Buck had selfishly hoarded. 

Weeks later, Buck still couldn’t bring himself to take it apart and return the clothes. He tried not to curl up in it every night. Failed miserably. It eased the nausea a little. The only thing holding him together when he wasn’t baking or eyeballing his phone.

[fistfuloflightning]

from the first

to the last

[sociopathichero]

Continued from here.

Danila had been sitting on the burner phone ever since he had accidentally found it, not knowing what to do. The rickety construction resembling life he had built around Riff—no, Henry—had come crashing down and it seemed like every move would be a wrong one. So here he was, a paralyzed, anxious mess wondering if everything between him and Henry had been a lie and a ploy.

He wanted to believe in Henry's promise, but knowing the truth made it sound empty even while his touch was gentle. Danila had hoped he would've come clean already; he must've noticed the phone was missing after all. Confronting Henry had come to his mind so many times. But that would make it real. Final.

He could only imagine what the brigade would do to him if they found out he had been sitting on such a bomb, not telling them anything about it. And what would they do to Henry? The mere thought made him want to throw up. And yet he couldn't be sure if Henry was plotting to throw him in prison while hiding behind honeyed words and warm kisses.

Did he have enough evidence to do that?

"Of course I'm worried when we do what we do," he replied. It was true, but it was meant to cover the real reason for his growing uneasiness.

"What mistake?" Suddenly he was paying attention with every cell in his body.

@dethenryquinn

[lemon-drop151]

So the next couple episodes, who knows what’s gonna happen! If there is indeed going to be a helicopter crash, one of two ways I imagine it going!

1. they’re going to a get back together (or atleast agree to try again) sometime soonish and then the helicopter is gonna crash and then we have that angst.

or

2. they’re not gonna speak at all and pine for each other and then the helicopter crashes and that angst.

Not sure which angst is worse…

The ‘oh my God we got a second chance and I’m bout to lose you angst’ or the ‘we could’ve had a second chance but now we’ll never know angst.’

Choices, choices!

[stormwifewrites]

Darkness at the Edge of Dawn 💔

Read it on AO3 (Explicit, Emmrich x f!Rook)

“How would we kiss?" asks Rook, and there is something jagged in her tone that he longs to smooth. "Hold hands? Make love?” Emmrich is silent, for there is no answer that will truly satisfy her here. “Or had you not even thought about that?” “Of course I’ve given it -” “Would you even love me anymore? Would you even be capable of it?” Her voice is fracturing now, spilling apart like the rippling waves fracturing the surface of the pool. “I don’t have all the answers, darling. I’m truly sorry.” He takes her hand again and threads his fingers through hers. “I trust that our bond will hold, but in the end it must be a leap of faith. One that I hoped to make with you by my side.” --- After a whirlwind romance Emmrich ends things with Rook, fearing that their differences are irreconcilable, their dreams incompatible. Unfortunately, they are both still desperately in love.

So it begins 😭 A healthy serving of angst & smut in every bite (of which there will be 3 total, posted on Sundays). Extended snippet below the cut!

Rook leans against him, her head briefly resting at his shoulder, and he feels the faint magnetic pulse of electricity. “It’s all right, darling.” He kisses the top of her head and rests an arm at her shoulders. “We have time.” She nestles into the touch, and for a moment the howling gale and scheming gods are forgotten and there is only this, him and her, a perfect peace at the eye of a raging storm. “I felt you, in my dream, last night,” says Rook, and Emmrich is dragged back to the truth of their predicament. “Ah. I’m sorry to have intruded; I heard you arguing with the Dread Wolf, and I worried. I didn’t intend to eavesdrop.” “It’s all right,” says Rook with a sigh. “Now you know why I’m so tired all the time. Not exactly the most restful sleep I’ve ever had, these past few weeks.” Emmrich squeezes her shoulder gently, but says nothing, hearing the heaviness in her voice. There is a pause, as if she is about to say more, to unburden herself to him, but instead she lifts her chin and turns a beaming smile back up to him. “Were your dreams any better?” she asks, and he can see the team leader squaring her shoulders, brightening her voice, diverting the conversation to his own well-being; not wishing for him to see the strain she carries, the burden, the way in which Solas’s barbed words have found sinking purchase. “I dreamt of you,” he says, and the bright shine in her sapphire eyes dims to something softer. “Would you… still dream? If you were a lich?” She sounds hesitant, but curious, and he considers the question at its face, rather than the doubts and fears swimming just beneath it. “The process of attaining lichdom involves a detachment from the living body and its daily needs,” he explains slowly. “I cannot say whether I will still require sleep, with no brain to quiet, no body to replenish.” He smiles. “Beyond death’s sleep, who knows what dreams may be?” Rook is quiet, watching the water rippling out from their stirring feet. “Could you still go swimming?” “I might have the physical functions, though my body may be more susceptible to the ill effects of water,” he says. “As for the compulsion, I cannot say.” “How would we eat together? Dance?” “Eating would likely be out of the question,” Emmrich says. “I may sit and enjoy other aspects of a meal, however, such as the pleasure of company. As for dancing…” He sighs. “I admit I’m not terribly adept at it now, and suspect it unlikely that undeath will elevate my skills.” “So mealtime will be more of a watch-and-wait kind of thing,” says Rook, and there is something jagged in her tone that he longs to smooth. “How about sleep? If you couldn’t sleep, would you still lie in bed with me all night? Would you watch me and wait, then?” Her voice is rising, and taking on an uneasy edge. “How would we kiss? Hold hands? Make love?” Emmrich is silent, for there is no answer that will truly satisfy her here. “Or had you not even thought about that?” “Of course I’ve given it -” “Would you even love me anymore? Would you even be capable of it?” Her voice is fracturing now, spilling apart like the rippling waves fracturing the surface of the pool. “I don’t have all the answers, Skadi. I’m truly sorry.” He takes her hand again and threads his fingers through hers. “I trust that our bond will hold, but in the end it must be a leap of faith. One that I hoped to make with you by my side.” She tugs her hand free from his grip and rises to stand. “There’s no taking that step together. It’s a chasm I can never cross.” Without waiting for a response she shrugs off her shirt and trousers, revealing black laced undergarments hugging her lithe spellblade’s body, the glimmer of her pierced navel winking dully in the gray day’s light reflected off the water. “What are you doing?” asks Emmrich, as she wades down the stairs to the pool. His dearest Rook rarely retreats from an argument, and the sight of her sinking towards the water’s surface sends a frisson of anxiety down his spine. “Cooling off.”

[antigrav-boy]

"This is our last Boimler. We don't have anymore after this"

Don't tell me this is foreshadowing

[gay-dorito-dust]

"I wanted to be unforgettable. Indelible. I wanted to haunt their hearts and minds—to be everywhere and nowhere, spectacular and out of reach. Only in the chaos did it dawn on me. Being remembered is not the same as being missed."

Author I just stumbled upon this quote & idk why it reminds me of ghost reader

You are absolutely right anon, this quote is quite literally ghost! Reader.

Ghost! Reader wants to be remembered and not missed and they’ll make that known by helping dipper and Mabel, keeping them safe from the unsafe poltergeist during summerween, meanwhile making Stan and Ford’s lives miserable as they possibly could.

They want this to be wretched into their hearts and minds forever, remind them all of what they did to them unfairly while tucking dipper and Mabel tightly in their beds, wishing them the sweetest of dreams and safest journeys home.

‘I’ll miss you great aunt/uncle y/n.’ They’d both say in their sleep.

‘I’ll miss you beautiful kids too.’ You’d whisper back, knowing they can’t hear you. ‘Til next time my ducklings.’ You then saw your bracelet and Mabel’s bracelet close together on Mabel’s bedside table and smiled, before looking over at Dipper’s side of the room and seeing him clutch the mothman plush you bought him tightly to his chest.

You will certainly miss these two and wished that you could’ve spent more time with them before dying. Now it was time to haunt Ford and Stanley by possessing the tv or lab equipment until the dawn of the new morning.

[comatosebunny09]

If a war happens would king sylus go or would mc go since she's in the army

Oooooh, this is making my heart hurt already.

The reader would insist on going. It’s her duty to protect the king and his people. The night before she’s due to ship off, Sylus would make love to her. Slow, passionate, sweaty, desperate lovemaking that consumes most of the night. The reader would wake up the following day to an empty bed and realize she’s late for the first formation, only to see a message from Sylus saying he couldn’t bear jeopardizing her safety, so he goes in her place.

[rookinthecrownest]

"Yes your honour that's them, they're gonna keep dancing around their feelings for each other until the next Age bc they're both stupid, arrest them"

I have no idea when I'm going to finish Night 5, so here's an excerpt of what I've been working on so far. I desperately need to finish this second playthrough so I can see the end of Emmrich's romance.

[varanere00]

Royal Beasts my take #5

Cub felt empty. He hadn't moved since Grian shut the door.

What was the point?

He could no longer feel Scar.

Seconds ticked by.

Cub stared blankly at the mess of fabrics Scar had made into a den, weeks ago when Grian had first gotten them clothes. Back when he still had his Scar.

Scar. Who he had just barely avoided loosing mere days ago. The fear was still fresh in his mind. Scars empty, blissed out face was burnt into the back of his eyelids. That unchanging expression, no matter how much he begged and pleaded for him to wake up. And now he was gone.

Beyond Cubs reach. Torn away by the cruel whims of a summoner that pretended to care for them, but would break them anyway.

Cub hated that he had let Scar fall into this trap, had let Scar think he was safe.

Hours drifted past in the blink of an eye as Cub just stood there, staring blankly at Scars den, thinking back over everything he had done since being summoned, any way he could have avoided this. Mostly, he missed Scar like a limb.

Soul aching with loss and longing Cub eventually passed out.

---

Scar was pacing. Hands buried in his hair, yanking hard. Any moment, Grian would come back, would let him out, would reunite him with Cub, would end this soul crushing desolate isolation.

Silvery white claws ran over the new wall, leaving no mark.

Scar paced the length of his enclosure again, yanking at his hair some more. Grian would be back soon right? He had to, he just had to. Scar couldn't be separate from Cub for long.

Grabbing one of the stray pillows on the ground, Scar tore it to shreds. Spitting out the unsatisfying mouthful of goose-down that netted him, he resumed his pacing. His thoughts raced, spinning in circles.

His heart was breaking, cracking apart at the seams. He wants his Cubbie.

---

A clanging draws Scar out of his pacing what feels like an eternity later. He's at the door before he remembers moving, hoping to be let out.

When only a small section at the bottom of the door opens and a tray of food its pushed in, he hurled the goblet of water from it at the wall with all his might. It shattered upon impact, leaving him with shards of metal and gems laying broken in a puddle of water, dripping slowly down the wall. Scar takes the only other pillow in the enclosure, curls up in a corner, and cries himself to sleep, food untouched.

---

"Good morning Cat!" his summoners voice was too cheerful for how drained Scar felt. His eyes were all gummed up, dry and swollen from crying, and his mouth tasted like something died in there. And not in the fun tasty eating people way.

"Cat?" his summoner poked his head into the room. "Oh no, Cat, you poor thing, did you not have a nest? We'll get you a nest for tonight." Scar was gently pulled from his corner. "Come on, time for breakfast. Now, I want you on your best behavior today okay?" He was scooped up and deposited in his usual spot on his summoners shoulder and wing. Scar was not in the mood for breakfast. His stomach was tied in knots up to his throat.

But! He would be on his very very bestest behavior. He would prove to his summoner that he could be a good Vex. Maybe then he would be allowed the selfish want of being reunited with his other half.

Scar obediently ate everything presented to him, not tasting a single thing. He only moved from where he had been placed when ordered, and was very careful to not bother his summoner in the slightest.

He does not remember a single thing that happened that day.

---

The closing clang of the enclosure door startled Scar back to his senses.

"No no no nonononono!" he frantically tried to open the door, clicking words out in a panic.

The door, a plain iron thing, didn't budge. Clawing at it was no use, his claws slid clean off, no mark to be found.

By the time Scar collapsed in the pile of bedding left in front of the door his knuckles were bleeding. The door remained as it was, firmly closed. Separating him.

Bloody hands raked through pale hair, tugging until it gave way.

Cries and howls tore painfully from his throat.

The plain iron door and stark white walls sat unmoved by his plight, taunting him.

Scar threw himself bodily against the wall separating him from Cub. If he could go through it, just a little bit, just a minute, just a second, just see Cub again.

Pain radiated from his shoulder, his arm, his hands, where his claws were scrabbling at the smooth surface, vying for any purchase they could find. Chipping not the wall but the sharp tips of his claws.

He had been so proud of them, well honed tools, groomed and filed to a deadly point. Polished to a deadly gleam, they were now just as broken as he was.

---

Grian had been tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep. There was a sort of buzzing behind his teeth, deep in his soul that kept him up, unable to properly rest. He figured it was the absence of his Vex. He had grown used to their company, to their cool bodies in the nest with him at night. The way they sometimes chittered or hissed, often completely unprompted.

He had had to separate them for their own good, he didn't want them to hurt each other.

Sighing, he pulled himself out of bed and forced his body into the stiff royal regalia, all the while contemplating if he could ditch he responsibilities today. But no, he had a Kingdom to run, and so help him he would do his best to run it competently. Even if that meant stiff clothes and long meetings.

Cat had been very quiet yesterday. He figured it was mad at him for forgetting to give it nesting materials. Which. Fair, he had done that. He hoped that Cat would be in a better mood tomorrow, when it was its turn to accompany him.

He was ignoring the creeping feeling of wrongness he got from having to choose between his Vex. That was the exhaustion talking. They were better off separate, where they couldn't hurt each other.

---

Bunny was completely unresponsive when he called for it. He could barely even see it, with how it was buried in the nest. Trying to pull it out had netted him an angry hiss and a claw swipe, that had narrowly missed him. Not a morning Vex then. Grian could sympathize.

Bunny's whole demeanor changed once it laid eyes on him. Calm, almost passively it shrank back into the nest, as if hiding. Grian had to order it out and to follow him. No matter how much he wanted to curl up in that nest with it and Cat, and sleep for a few hours. He had work to do.

---

Cub had lost track of how long it had been since he last saw Scar.

45 hours, 24 minutes, and 17 seconds.

Nothing seemed real anymore except the rushing of blood in his ears, droning on and on, deafening him to the world around him.

If only ha hadn't fought Scar on this. Maybe they would still be together.

Or maybe they would be shells of themselves, hollowed out to fulfill their summoners wish of having mindless beasts at his beck and call.

Cub laid in the den Scar had so lovingly crafted. It still smelled like him. Like wildflowers and tree sap and blood. Wisps of his magic clung to it. Cub watched them sway in an invisible current and wished he was back with Scar.

He hadn't even recovered from nearly loosing him to their summoners attempt at wing care, and now they were separated, with no end in sight.

Maybe the risk would have been worth it after all.

---

"Oh no, Cat, you're hurt!" The first thing Grian had noticed when coming to fetch Cat to be his days companion were his Vexs bleeding fingers. Just how it had managed to hurt itself was a mystery to him. Maybe Vex needed to scratch their claws on something like cats, and it got hurt trying to scratch on the smooth, magically reinforced walls in here?

Whatever the case, Grian vowed to find the problem and eliminate it. For now, that consisted of carefully taking each of his Vexs hands clasped in his own and gently funneling magic into them until they were healed. A process that, much to his surprise, made Cats eyes glow purple with his magic. Fascinated, he continued to give Cat little nuggets of magic long after its claws were healed, watching the glow in its eyes ebb and brighten.

Grian had not been able to sleep this past night, again. But it was fine, he can just use some magic to clear his mind and strengthen his body. Surely, he would be fine.

Once Cats eyes were glowing a steady soft purple, he stopped giving it more magic and hoisted it up into its favorite place, draped over his shoulder and wing, one of its artfully tattered looking bright silver-blue wings draped over his deep red coverts like a lace curtain over blood.

Grian shook his head to dislodge the image that had made a home there, ignoring the way reality crackled and sparked purple when he did so, and set of for a quick breakfast and the mountains of royal duties waiting for him today. At least Cat no longer seemed upset, given how it was purring and practically melting all over him.

---

Scar was deeply, deeply afraid. He had no idea why he had been pumped full of magic til it nearly burst out of him, filling him up hot and heavy and thick. He had no idea how much time he had lost to the following high, memories lost in the thick haze of magic still bloating him til his skin tore from the pressure, leaving spider-webbed scars all over him.

Purple stained his vision every time he closed his eyes, threatened to flood his thoughts in large spurts every moment he didn't pay close atesh- anten- wasn't careful.

He could feel his person-self beginning to wash away slowly under the deluge of magic.

He had lost his voice to the screams hours ago. His claws, once his pride and joy as a Vex, lay crumbled at his feet.

Tearing at the room made no different.

The den material lay in tatters and ribbons on the floor. The weird tower smashed to splinters. The carpet torn to tiny pieces of fluff.

Scar wondered how much of himself had been sliding away too much, unnoticed, while he played at being a bound Vex, fancying himself safe. He thought this one would be different. Had hoped he would understand. Had hoped they would be allowed to continue being people, being themselves.

Turns out, this summoner Grian, his name was Grian and he was supposed to be a friend. Scar was supposed to be able to trust him, wanted to break him too. Wanted nothing more than an empty shell to fill with whatever pleased him.

What was left of Scars heart was breaking.

Torn claws digging into flesh, tearing out hair, scratching, anything to feel anything except this soul-crushing hurt.

As darkness closed in, his only regret was not seeing Cub one last time.

[devilsrecreation]

Dear Diary….

Why do they hate me?

Why don’t I fight back?

Why do I act like such a creep?

Why won't mom love me?

Why did I bite him?

Why do I cry myself to sleep?

Somebody hug me!

Somebody fix me!

Somebody save me!

Send me a sign, God!

Give me some hope here!

Something to live for!

[cake-emu]

well, updating the Swarla hugs compilation gifset is gonna hit a bit different now, eh?