#feels like my brain os floating

[butteryheart]

Anyone wants to bite me really hard

[imgeekgirlfan]

The Curse of Cassandra│(Qimir x Reader)

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings:  Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader)  [The Acolyte]

Content Rating : Mature 18+  Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK)

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary: Being a prophet is both a gift and a curse; you see the future and you’re burdened with the weight of knowing that every decision you make could shape or destroy entire universe, with the overwhelming pressure that the fate of the galaxy hinges on your choice, and every path fraught with sacrifice.

Status: Completed (Finally! 😭)

A/N : I'm thai and english isn't my first language (sorry for the broken English)

This fic exists 'cause I got high (thanks to weed!). So my work's full of random shit in many ways. But I hope you'll dig it.

I got inspo from novels and movies I'm obsessed with: Dune, Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga, Blue Eye Samurai, and Anne Carson's Cassandra Float Can. (Hence the title "The Curse of Cassandra," linking to the Greek myth)

It's a mash-up of different universes, not just Star Wars, with a lot of tweaks for my storyline. If you want fanfic that strict Star Wars canon, this fic isn't for you.

Also, diversity FTW! the reader in this fic isn't white, she's a SEA woman, we gonna representing ASEAN pride.

➡  EP : 1 // EP : 2 // EP : 3 // EP : 4 // EP : 5 // EP : 6 // EP : 7 // EP : 8 // EP : 9 // EP : 10 // EP : 11 // EP : 12 // EP : 13 // EP : 14 (Completed)

Special OS : Phantom Thread

[Intro] A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away

What fate could be worse? 

Being captured by Jedi 

Or being hunted by Sith

You close your eyelids, frowning at the stabbing sensation creeping into your brain. It's always like this when you try to sink into the stream of time, pondering what's yet to come. The price for this wicked foresight is torment of both body and soul, intensifying as your senses expand.

You see, you hear, you feel. The moisture in the air, the sound of water droplets hitting the ground, the wind rustling through the grass, the capillaries in your nasal cavities twisting and rupturing before blood gushes from your nose.

As you casually wipe away the red fluid with the back of your hand, you suddenly realize certain truths that have always been part of you. 

You are an aberration, something repulsive. An Abomination. 

And abominations must be eliminated—so they say.

You let out a long sigh, allowing your mind to drift through the past, present, and future—every possible event and situation. You watch it all with a numb mind, as if you've seen the same movie hundreds or thousands of times, a movie whose ending you already know well.

Yet there's one thing you still don't know: which ending will the path you're on now lead to?

Something pulls you out of your meditation, coinciding with the moment you sense someone's piercing gaze openly fixed upon you. That man is watching you from the shadows behind a large tree, not with malicious intent but with curiosity mixed with several other complex emotions too ambiguous to explain.

You remain seated in meditation at the same spot, amidst the blood and corpses of the Jedi, not daring to move, almost forgetting even to breathe.

You are the last one still breathing, the final victim of the Jedi massacre carried out by the mysterious Sith—The Stranger who is now closely observing you.

His face is completely hidden beneath a dark, twisted metal mask. Yet you can still feel his gleaming eyes surveying your body, as far as sight allows, focusing excessively, even invasively.

The curiosity in his mind is so intense that you find yourself trembling.

You see visions of what might happen—there's a high chance he'll rush in to slice you to pieces with his red lightsaber, searching for secrets or whatever might be hidden inside your body. Or he might subjugate you with his Force, using his power to penetrate your mind, deep into your subconscious, hoping to taste the forbidden fruit of secrets that you alone possess.

But he will never know, as long as you don't wish him to.

The scent of death hangs heavy in the air as heavy footsteps crunch over gravel, approaching you slowly, like a predator toying with its prey. You freeze, every muscle in your body tense, as you face the tall figure in dark cloak, his visage concealed behind a strange metal mask carved into a distorted smile.

For a moment, this man reminds you of the grim reaper from ancient religious myths that vanished thousands of years ago.

He is the harbinger of death everywhere he goes, including your own death

Awareness strikes like a warning signal. Various possibilities flash through your memory, similar to how a dying person recalls everything that happened in their life.

You instantly realize how crucial this moment is. This is an incredibly fragile juncture. 

There's a fifty percent chance he'll kill you, and another fifty percent chance he'll spare your life. 

Fear spreads throughout your flesh, imprinting itself on your soul, turning your blood ice-cold. Your pulse races with panic. 

You take a deep breath, quickly focusing, trying hard to regain control of your shaken mind. "I must not fear," you mutter to yourself, the same phrase your mother used to teach you as a child. "Fear is the mind-killer, fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration..." 

A low, hoarse laugh escapes from behind the metal mask. Clearly, he heard what you said. "Oh, I think you should fear," he says, his words teetering between mockery and sarcasm.

You know he wants you to fear because, for the Sith, fear leads to power.

 You do the opposite, swallowing the lump of fear in your throat, maintaining a calm demeanor as you force a faint smile for the person before you. 

"Humans fear what they don't know, just as they fear me, and just as they fear you." You pause momentarily, carefully considering your final sentence, which could determine your fate. 

Finally, you speak, firm and unwavering, "But I know you, so I do not fear." 

There's a fifty percent chance he'll kill you, and another fifty percent chance he'll spare your life—this thought returns to your mind once more.

He had always kept his secret well, never letting anyone who knew his true identity survive.

You know well that your revelation will bring about an end that changes everything, both for better and for worse.

This is the gamble you've already placed your bet on, for this purpose and for this moment.

The lightsaber hilt in his hand remains tightly closed, showing no sign of the red flame that has taken countless lives. He kneels before you, his action clearly revealing vulnerabilities in his body. You could easily grab the lightsaber from the Jedi's corpse and behead him in one stroke.

But you don't kill him, just as he doesn't kill you.

You look into his eyes, he looks into yours, gauging each other in silence.

His large hand reaches beneath his mask, unlocks the mechanism, and slowly removes it, revealing the familiar face in your sight.

His face is sharp in every proportion, with messy jet-black hair. His eyes, once gentle when touched by sunlight, now cold as ice, contrast starkly with the smile slowly spreading wide, in the same fashion as the smile on the mask he wore earlier.

"Qimir"

His name sounds strange when you utter it, as if it's not a name you're familiar with, and the man before you is not the man you know.

The man chuckles softly and moves even closer, cutting off any chance for you to escape. You swallow hard, trying to turn your face away from his intense gaze. But he doesn't let you. His fingers, wet with others' blood, dig into both of your cheeks, pressing hard enough to hurt, forcing you to look only at him.

"Surprised?" He leans in closer, his hot breath on your face, and whispers softly in your ear, "I told you, you can't run away from me."

[catinasink]

can you give me all the entries pleasw

ofc

ENTRY 00000000000000000000000000000000000oO0: Why Can’t I Remember?

Why can’t I remember? My brain feels fuzzy. This sword is heavy. I could just lie down here. Close my eyes… and rest…

ENTRY 1: A Door to Another World

Where am I? I stepped through the door and now I’m standing in a void? What is this place…?

ENTRY 8: Where Am I?

This place is strange. These islands float in what seems to be an endless void, and the laws of gravity do not apply in the way I know them to, if at all. And the beings that inhabit this strange realm... I must find a way to escape this place.

-OS

Entry 27

There is, SOMETHING out there, looking for me, i don't know what it is.

I can't get this damn mask off, and my arm isn't mending. Fuck, my shirt is covered in blood. What I wouldn't give for a warm bath right now... I fear for my safety, this place is strange, the laws of my world don't seem to apply here. and I can't seem to shake the feeling that I'm being watched.

There's some sort of obelisk a couple islands down, I'll start out for it in the morning, not that one can keep track of time in this cursed place…

-OS

ENTRY 30: Home Sweet Home

I found some sort of house at the foot of the obelisk, I'm sitting inside of it as I write this. Well, at least I have some shelter. My face feels weird, some kind of pressure behind my eyes, and my arm is getting worse. There're some sort of veins spreading up my bicep, and it hurts like a fucking bitch. What the fuck was in that spine?

Entry 34: Bells?

I hear chimes ringing, first non-natural sound I've heard in weeks. This building is fucking huge, gives me steampunk vibes.

Ugh, my head hurts, my arm is chalky, black and dusty. It feels like coal. I can barely write.

-OS

Entry 51: Bodies

Oh my gods, I'm gonna throw up.

They- they're- they're BODIES. Rancid, decaying, maggot infested corpses. They just showed up overnight, and they're standing there. Fucking empty eye sockets and rotted grins. It's disgusting. And the smell, I'm gonna be sick.

Entry 54: Ashes to Ashes

My arm is... Chalky, crumbly. It feels like sand.

The bodies are still there. They haven't moved. Why did I ever open that damn door...

ENTRY 68: Whispers in the WInd

The bodies are gone. They just disappeared. I looked away for 2 seconds and they were gone. Freaky.

This place isn't safe anymore. That- That THING is here. It knows where I am. I'm leaving. There's some sort of airship at the top of the mountain, I'll depart at glimmer's fade.

There are voices, too. Almost inaudible whispers, drifting on the wind.

When you see it, it sees you too.

When you hear it, it hears you too.

When you feel it, it touches you.

When it calls you, it has you.

When you feed it.

IT CLAIMS YOU.

ENTRY 78: Watcher

It followed me. I thought- I thought I got away but I didn't. It was just playing with me.

This damn mask.

My arm is doing weird things. Shifting and changing forms. It almost looks like charcoal sculpting. I don't know what's happening to me.

I know it's there. It always has been. You're there too, aren't you? I know you are. Don't lie to me. I see you. I always have seen you.

ENTRY 79: It Found Me

*unlike most of the recovered documentation, this entry is recorded on an old camcorder, the tape and camcorder are splattered in blood and a thick, inky substance*

It found me. It fucking found me. The long pale arms, it reached out and it- *makes strangling gesture* It was some sort of fucking demon. Fucking hell. It cut me, it fucking cut me!

*unintelligible mutterings, before subject shows themselves on camera. they are covered in blood and the same inky substance as before, a bright red overcoat covers their body, and a shield-shaped mask covers their face. their arm shows the decay described in previous entries.*

This place is hell. I've died and now I'm in fucking hell! Monsters, upside down bridges, and now a fucking cryptid chasing me around!?!?! What the fuck!?!?!

I need to get out of here.

*subject steps towards the camcorder, reaching out to turn it off, the last frames of video show the subject drawing a hunting knife from their overcoat*

ENTRY 92: Fuck That Box

Fuck that box.

There was fucking teeth. HUMAN TEETH. And a heart. Beating. Fucking pulsing and throbbing. There were HUNDREDS of them. The whole floor. Fuck. I should never have come here.

Where's the fucking booze.

@eternal-nyxx @shrimpysstuff

[alex-the-bard]

uh

pictures are too hard (it's eighteen pages long)

so here

anything underlined has a direct link to the original post (so click on those for drawings hehe)

Dreamscape Nexus ~

All Entries

Recovered sketchbook entry

The following document was recovered from an Ascario mining compound following a raid conducted by the SAS in cooperation with Seal Team 6. It was found lying on a desk by [REDACTED] on [REDACTED] among other scattered papers. The document was sent to Site [REDACTED] in [REDACTED] on [REDACTED] for further study. The document seems to depict a door, with some sort of slogan underneath it. Surrounding the door are windows shaped similarly to shards of broken glass, depicting several different words, images, and languages (Russian, Latvian, German, and Swedish), and connected by threads, almost like red string on an evidence corkboard. There are also several flyers and missing posters floating around the door. [REDacTeD] has taken note of this discovery and has expressed great interest in the document. Research is still ongoing.

ENTRY 00000000000000000000000000000000000oO0: Why Can’t I Remember?

Why can’t I remember? My brain feels fuzzy. This sword is heavy. I could just lie down here. Close my eyes… and rest…

ENTRY 1: A Door to Another World

Where am I? I stepped through the door and now I’m standing in a void? What is this place…?

ENTRY 8: Where Am I?

This place is strange. These islands float in what seems to be an endless void, and the laws of gravity do not apply in the way I know them to, if at all. And the beings that inhabit this strange realm... I must find a way to escape this place.

-OS

ENTRY 27

There is, SOMETHING out there, looking for me, i don't know what it is.

I can't get this damn mask off, and my arm isn't mending. Fuck, my shirt is covered in blood. What I wouldn't give for a warm bath right now... I fear for my safety, this place is strange, the laws of my world don't seem to apply here. and I can't seem to shake the feeling that I'm being watched.

There's some sort of obelisk a couple islands down, I'll start out for it in the morning, not that one can keep track of time in this cursed place…

-OS

enTRY 27-B: Recovered Sketchbook

The following pages from OS’s sketchbook were recovered by [REDACTED] on [REDACTED] in [REDACTED], we have yet to identify any of the things depicted in the drawings.

Entry 30: Home Sweet Home

I found some sort of house at the foot of the obelisk, I'm sitting inside of it as I write this. Well, at least I have some shelter. My face feels weird, some kind of pressure behind my eyes, and my arm is getting worse. There're some sort of veins spreading up my bicep, and it hurts like a fucking bitch. What the fuck was in that spine?

Entry 34: Bells?

I hear chimes ringing, first non-natural sound I've heard in weeks. This building is fucking huge, gives me steampunk vibes.

Ugh, my head hurts, my arm is chalky, black and dusty. It feels like coal. I can barely write.

-OS

Entry 51: Bodies

Oh my gods, I'm gonna throw up.

They- they're- they're BODIES. Rancid, decaying, maggot infested corpses. They just showed up overnight, and they're standing there. Fucking empty eye sockets and rotted grins. It's disgusting. And the smell, I'm gonna be sick.

Entry 54: Ashes to Ashes

My arm is... Chalky, crumbly. It feels like sand.

The bodies are still there. They haven't moved. Why did I ever open that damn door…

Entry 68: Whispers in the WInd

The bodies are gone. They just disappeared. I looked away for 2 seconds and they were gone. Freaky.

This place isn't safe anymore. That- That THING is here. It knows where I am. I'm leaving. There's some sort of airship at the top of the mountain, I'll depart at glimmer's fade.

There are voices, too. Almost inaudible whispers, drifting on the wind.

When you see it, it sees you too.

When you hear it, it hears you too.

When you feel it, it touches you.

When it calls you, it has you.

When you feed it.

IT CLAIMS YOU.

Entry 78: Watcher

It followed me. I thought- I thought I got away but I didn't. It was just playing with me.

This damn mask.

My arm is doing weird things. Shifting and changing forms. It almost looks like charcoal sculpting. I don't know what's happening to me.

I know it's there. It always has been. You're there too, aren't you? I know you are. Don't lie to me. I see you. I always have seen you.

ENTRY 79: It Found Me

*unlike most of the recovered documentation, this entry is recorded on an old camcorder, the tape and camcorder are splattered in blood and a thick, inky substance*

It found me. It fucking found me. The long pale arms, it reached out and it- *makes strangling gesture* It was some sort of fucking demon. Fucking hell. It cut me, it fucking cut me!

*unintelligible mutterings, before subject shows themselves on camera. they are covered in blood and the same inky substance as before, a bright red overcoat covers their body, and a shield-shaped mask covers their face. their arm shows the decay described in previous entries.*

This place is hell. I've died and now I'm in fucking hell! Monsters, upside down bridges, and now a fucking cryptid chasing me around!?!?! What the fuck!?!?!

I need to get out of here.

*subject steps towards the camcorder, reaching out to turn it off, the last frames of video show the subject drawing a hunting knife from their overcoat*

ENTRY 92: Fuck That Box

Fuck that box.

There was fucking teeth. HUMAN TEETH. And a heart. Beating. Fucking pulsing and throbbing. There were HUNDREDS of them. The whole floor. Fuck. I should never have come here.

Where's the fucking booze.

ENTRY 97: City of Ghosts

I found... SOMETHING. I don't know what it is. Some sort of city? And there was some sort of church or something in the center. Floor was covered in stones, and they seem to be hollow. Boxes? I'll take one back and try to open it.

ENTRY 117: Memories

Why can’t I remember? There- there was a door and- and some kind of hit. That’s it, that’s all I remember! Next thing I know I’m waking up face down in the dirt here! What happened to me?

-OS

Documentarian’s letters 

ENRY 01010100 01101000 01100101 01110010 01100101 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101110 01101111 01110100 01101000 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01110111 01110010 01101111 01101110 01100111 00101110: Documentarian

Hello there, how are you? No, this isn't OS. This is the Documentarian, I'm the one who's been investigating the Nexus and the Unconscious. I look forward to our future work together.

Are the stars still there?

ENTRY -|NULL|-

I know what you did. My garden is dying. Will you help me?

Life is not binary.

There is a space in-between. Maybe look into the code of our world, who knows what you'll find?

[CONTINGENCY 32R/TE-27 (ARCHIVAL RECOVERY) INITIATED]

What the hell Dawn?

[THEY ARE ASKING TOO MANY QUESTIONS. THE CYCLE MUST NOT BE BROKEN]

They’re just kids, you can’t blame them for being inquisitive!

[THE CYCLE MUST NOT BE BROKEN]

OS’s Rambles (ok alex)

Fuck Ascario

They pulled me out of that fucking hospital and made me go through that door. They promised me salvation, then handed me damnation. Fuck Ascario. I’m sorry Evelyn…

How is this happening?

It’s like I’m looking forward in time. Hello? HELLO? IS ANYONE OUT THERE, CAN YOU HEAR ME? PLEASE. Someone. Anyone… please…

Ascario documents

After-Action Report: Incident at the Nexus Entry Point

Date: [REDACTED]

Prepared by: Imogen Vladistov, Team Leader

Objective: Investigate the Nexus

Team Members:

Team Leader: Imogen Vladistov

Tactical Specialist: Graham Oreta

Tech Specialist: [REDACTED]

Medical Officer: Dr. Karina Solvea

Communications Expert: [REDACTED]

Overview: On [REDACTED], at 3:05 PM stable time, the team was dispatched to breach the Veil through the [REDACTED] at [REDACTED], near [REDACTED]. [OMITTED DUE TO IRRELEVANCE].

Chronology of Events:

Entry Point Approach:

The team approached the portal cautiously, noting its otherworldly appearance. Preliminary scans revealed unusual energy readings but lacked any concerning anomalies.

Door Transition:

Upon entering the portal, the team experienced a sudden disorientation. The transition was without incident.

Initial Nexus Exploration:

[REDACTED]

Monster Encounter:

As the team proceeded deeper into the Nexus, a hostile entity emerged from the shadows. The creature displayed unpredictable behavior and exhibited physical capabilities beyond human comprehension.

Evasive Maneuvers:

The team immediately engaged in evasive maneuvers, attempting to avoid direct confrontation with the monster. Tactical strategies were employed to create distance and formulate a plan for escape.

Escape Attempt:

Despite the team's coordinated efforts, the monster proved relentless. An emergency extraction point was identified, and the team attempted to retreat. However, the rapidly shifting nature of the Nexus made navigation challenging.

Nexus Entrapment:

As the team approached the extraction point, the Nexus environment underwent a sudden transformation, trapping the team in an isolated area. Attempts to retrace steps were unsuccessful, and the team found themselves confined within the Nexus.

Lessons Learned:

Unpredictability of Nexus Environment:

The Nexus displayed an inherent unpredictability, making navigation and escape challenging. Future missions in similar environments require enhanced adaptability and contingency planning.

Monster Behavior Analysis:

The hostile entity exhibited an unpredictable nature and formidable capabilities. Further research and analysis are essential to understand the monster's behavior and develop effective countermeasures.

Communication Protocols:

Communications within the Nexus experienced intermittent disruptions. Improved communication protocols and specialized equipment may be necessary for missions in such unconventional environments.

Recommendations:

Research and Analysis:

Conduct in-depth research on the Nexus to better understand its properties, transitions, and potential threats.

Specialized Training:

Implement specialized training for team members to enhance adaptability in unpredictable environments.

Equipment Enhancement:

Invest in advanced communication and navigational equipment designed for otherworldly environments to minimize disruptions.

Collaborative Research:

Collaborate with scientific and paranormal experts to gain insights into the Nexus and its inhabitants.

Conclusion: The incident at the Nexus entry point highlights the need for comprehensive preparation when dealing with unidentified portals and otherworldly dimensions. The team remains committed to resolving the situation and awaits further directives for potential rescue or extraction protocols.

Imogen Vladistov, Team Leader, 2nd Epoch of Ascario.

7 suns.

7 rings.

7 thrones for the Ebon KIng.

Let the cycle repeat.

Ouroboros Project

Ouroboros

Gods above, what is this stuff? Hold on, what is tha-

[WELCOME, OUROBOROS]

Uhm… hello?

[THE END OF THE CYCLE DRAWS NEAR, REALITY ITSELF WILL SOON BE PULLED APART AT THE SEAMS]

Oh. That’s… Less than convenient…

[LET THE CYCLE BEGIN ANEW]

I mean… if you say so…

[THANK YOU]

gib pictures

[moonysfavoritetoast]

all the entries so far (i think)

anything underlined is a link to the original posts (27-B and recovered sketchbook entry have the drawings when you click the link)

Recovered sketchbook entry

The following document was recovered from an Ascario mining compound following a raid conducted by the SAS in cooperation with Seal Team 6. It was found lying on a desk by [REDACTED] on [REDACTED] among other scattered papers. The document was sent to Site [REDACTED] in [REDACTED] on [REDACTED] for further study. The document seems to depict a door, with some sort of slogan underneath it. Surrounding the door are windows shaped similarly to shards of broken glass, depicting several different words, images, and languages (Russian, Latvian, German, and Swedish), and connected by threads, almost like red string on an evidence corkboard. There are also several flyers and missing posters floating around the door. [REDacTeD] has taken note of this discovery and has expressed great interest in the document. Research is still ongoing.

ENTRY 00000000000000000000000000000000000oO0: Why Can’t I Remember?

Why can’t I remember? My brain feels fuzzy. This sword is heavy. I could just lie down here. Close my eyes… and rest…

ENTRY 1: A Door to Another World

Where am I? I stepped through the door and now I’m standing in a void? What is this place…?

ENTRY 8: Where Am I?

This place is strange. These islands float in what seems to be an endless void, and the laws of gravity do not apply in the way I know them to, if at all. And the beings that inhabit this strange realm... I must find a way to escape this place.

-OS

ENTRY 27

There is, SOMETHING out there, looking for me, i don't know what it is.

I can't get this damn mask off, and my arm isn't mending. Fuck, my shirt is covered in blood. What I wouldn't give for a warm bath right now... I fear for my safety, this place is strange, the laws of my world don't seem to apply here. and I can't seem to shake the feeling that I'm being watched.

There's some sort of obelisk a couple islands down, I'll start out for it in the morning, not that one can keep track of time in this cursed place…

-OS

enTRY 27-B: Recovered Sketchbook

The following pages from OS’s sketchbook were recovered by [REDACTED] on [REDACTED] in [REDACTED], we have yet to identify any of the things depicted in the drawings.

Entry 30: Home Sweet Home

I found some sort of house at the foot of the obelisk, I'm sitting inside of it as I write this. Well, at least I have some shelter. My face feels weird, some kind of pressure behind my eyes, and my arm is getting worse. There're some sort of veins spreading up my bicep, and it hurts like a fucking bitch. What the fuck was in that spine?

Entry 34: Bells?

I hear chimes ringing, first non-natural sound I've heard in weeks. This building is fucking huge, gives me steampunk vibes.

Ugh, my head hurts, my arm is chalky, black and dusty. It feels like coal. I can barely write.

-OS

Entry 51: Bodies

Oh my gods, I'm gonna throw up.

They- they're- they're BODIES. Rancid, decaying, maggot infested corpses. They just showed up overnight, and they're standing there. Fucking empty eye sockets and rotted grins. It's disgusting. And the smell, I'm gonna be sick.

Entry 54: Ashes to Ashes

My arm is... Chalky, crumbly. It feels like sand.

The bodies are still there. They haven't moved. Why did I ever open that damn door…

Entry 68: Whispers in the WInd

The bodies are gone. They just disappeared. I looked away for 2 seconds and they were gone. Freaky.

This place isn't safe anymore. That- That THING is here. It knows where I am. I'm leaving. There's some sort of airship at the top of the mountain, I'll depart at glimmer's fade.

There are voices, too. Almost inaudible whispers, drifting on the wind.

When you see it, it sees you too.

When you hear it, it hears you too.

When you feel it, it touches you.

When it calls you, it has you.

When you feed it.

IT CLAIMS YOU.

Entry 78: Watcher

It followed me. I thought- I thought I got away but I didn't. It was just playing with me.

This damn mask.

My arm is doing weird things. Shifting and changing forms. It almost looks like charcoal sculpting. I don't know what's happening to me.

I know it's there. It always has been. You're there too, aren't you? I know you are. Don't lie to me. I see you. I always have seen you.

ENTRY 79: It Found Me

*unlike most of the recovered documentation, this entry is recorded on an old camcorder, the tape and camcorder are splattered in blood and a thick, inky substance*

It found me. It fucking found me. The long pale arms, it reached out and it- *makes strangling gesture* It was some sort of fucking demon. Fucking hell. It cut me, it fucking cut me!

*unintelligible mutterings, before subject shows themselves on camera. they are covered in blood and the same inky substance as before, a bright red overcoat covers their body, and a shield-shaped mask covers their face. their arm shows the decay described in previous entries.*

This place is hell. I've died and now I'm in fucking hell! Monsters, upside down bridges, and now a fucking cryptid chasing me around!?!?! What the fuck!?!?!

I need to get out of here.

*subject steps towards the camcorder, reaching out to turn it off, the last frames of video show the subject drawing a hunting knife from their overcoat*

ENTRY 92: Fuck That Box

Fuck that box.

There was fucking teeth. HUMAN TEETH. And a heart. Beating. Fucking pulsing and throbbing. There were HUNDREDS of them. The whole floor. Fuck. I should never have come here.

Where's the fucking booze.

ENTRY 97: City of Ghosts

I found... SOMETHING. I don't know what it is. Some sort of city? And there was some sort of church or something in the center. Floor was covered in stones, and they seem to be hollow. Boxes? I'll take one back and try to open it.

ENTRY 117: Memories

Why can’t I remember? There- there was a door and- and some kind of hit. That’s it, that’s all I remember! Next thing I know I’m waking up face down in the dirt here! What happened to me?

-OS

@bassguitarinablackt-shirt @catinasink @eternal-nyxx @anonnzone @shrimpysstuff @alexthescaredenby

[sheepie-self-ships]

🎉, 🤪, and 🌸 from the ask game for eaglebones? <:

~ @gaiamatsu

YIPPE YOPPEE YIPPEE LOOK AT ME IM A WINNER! Thank u for sending in an ask for one of the f/os I have the most screenshots for :>>>

🎉 Post a screenshot of your f/o where they’re smiling/laughing/having a good time.

FLOATING EYE TIME!!! Feel my steel is not always a very good song imo but they looked like they were having fun singing it :) not Ricky tho he was getting turned into a zombie

🤪 Post a screenshot of your f/o making a silly face.

HE IS THE KING OF MAKING SILLY FACES!!!!!!!!

I think I have to go with a tie of these 3 all from the mysterious egg episode… there are a LOT of silly faces from him in that one tho so it was a close call.

🌸 Post a screenshot of your f/o looking cute.

Season 2 ep 1… he just wants to help people even if he did lose the brain cell at that point…

[sennamybeloved]

yk what? fuck it. in honor of 4/20, here are some stoner headcanons for a bunch of my f/os.

cw for recreational weed usage below the cut.

SENNA — total stoner. stoner in the truest sense of the word. smokes all the fucking time. uses weed as a coping mechanism. — very high cannabis tolerance. — grows her own weed in our garden/the basement of our house. also makes her own edibles (it's the only thing she can make without burning the house down, somehow.) — gets remarkably chill when she's high. the heaps of stress she deals with constantly kinda disappear if she smokes enough, which is why she does it so much. — gets very giggly sometimes. becomes 100x less mature than she usually is. — ends up laughing every time i try to talk to her. — shows me stupid videos on her phone that made her laugh a little too hard. — either that, or she just gets really sleepy. she lays on the couch, eats chips, and watches bad tv before taking the best nap of her fucking life. — gets the munchies so severely. she could eat lucian and i out of house and home. — with some strains she can actually get up and make art. she does beadwork/jewelry-making and paints sometimes. — has the best advice for coping with bad highs. — generally just has the best tips if you want to get into smoking; she was a huge help to me when i first started. — being around her while she's high is a great experience. 10/10.

LUCIAN — significantly less entertaining to be around. — will pass out after 20 minutes no matter the strain. — sleeps so hard. you could like, hit him with a semitruck and he'd still be snoring. — wakes up with major munchies- but not as bad as senna's. — sometimes gets too high and lays on the ground at looks at the sky/ceiling/whatever for hours, floating between different planes of existence. — smokes to turn his brain off when he feels depressed. works about half of the time. — (un)surprisingly cuddly. clings to senna and i like his life depends on it. — overview: sleepy.

AHRI — becomes the worst version of herself. — really fucking obnoxious. her mind is running totally free, prompting her to spew out every stupid thought that comes to her. this is only entertaining for the first 10 minutes or so, until you realize that she is not going to shut up! — very giggly and talkative. — never passes out, no matter the strain. — her favorite thing to annoy me with is different variants of 20 questions. either turns really hilarious or really, really depressing. — prefers edibles over actually smoking. tends to eat more than she should, causing her to green out... a lot. — two words: playful aggression. roughhouses me, rips joints out of my hands, shoves/hits/scratches me, says the meanest fucking things with a big, shit-eating grin on her face. — has bitten me so hard that it's drawn blood. — has a great time. the people she is with will probably not have a great time, though. except for me, because i think she's wonderful.

MARLENE — not a huge smoker honestly. she only got into it after she started hanging out with me. — smokes to relieve stress. — totally chill when she's high. prefers to just hang out and watch tv or eat. — very cuddly. keeps her hand in mind or an arm around my shoulders when we're talking. enjoys laying with her head on my chest, or mine on hers. — she isn't very good at formulating words when she's intoxicated, but she likes listening to me talk. — likes to smoke while listening to music. i have a playlist made specifically for when we get stoned. — doesn't like to smoke alone; sometimes suffers from a little bit of paranoia. — has the best sleeps of her entire life when she is high.

T BUG — doesn't smoke a whole lot. it's a fucking ordeal whenever she does, though. — already a philosophy nerd, but becomes even more of a nerd when she's high. her philosophies start making less and less sense, until they either devolve into garbled quotes from ancient philosophers or borderline conspiracy theories. — has managed to convince herself that arasaka has her chipped. — has also tried to convince me to rob a building owned by a corpo while we were both high. i said no (we would've both died) but i considered it. — major munchies. bad takeout food is a must. we've gotten lost on the streets of night city searching for a burger joint before. — she smokes to help with the headaches and nausea she suffers as a result of the injuries she received during the arasaka tower attack. — usually very talkative, but gets sleepy after a while.

DUTCH — oh my god. he is the worst! — doesn't shut the fuck up. like ever. — also philosophizes, except everything he says is so mind-numbingly stupid. you just want him to shut up so bad. — states really basic concepts like they're profound and groundbreaking. — either that, or he will become really in touch with his emotions and memories (and by extension, is poor behaviors) and get really whiny and start talking about how he doesn't deserve me and blah blah blah. — after that he'll pass out so fucking hard. like i couldn't wake him up even if i tried.

ILLAOI — seasoned stoner. very chill about it. — she smokes like all the time with other buhru people. it's a bonding exercise in their village. — very high tolerance. smokes more than could ever be considered reasonable and never greens out. — owns a collection of fancy ceramic bongs. — becomes super relaxed and zen and in touch with her faith when she's stoned. it's one of her favorite experiences. — doesn't usually smoke along; she enjoys sharing stories and laughing with friends- or me. — she will try any weird edibles people offer her. the less she knows about their origins, the better. she views it as a fun challenge (someone could poison her and she wouldn't gaf.) — gave me the best advice when i started smoking. never had a bad high with her because she's just so chill. she makes everything great. — whenever i feel like i'm floating away she'll wrap one of her big ass arms around me and just hold me against her body. fixes me every time.

[so-many-crushes]

Howdy Khourey! Thank you for your sweet support on my "Turning of the Tides" fic with Jim :D (just to clarify, the art was a gift- I didn't make it!) I spent so long working on it, it's so nice to finally have it on my blog to go back to whenever I need a pick-me-up, Spontaneous Proposal AUs my beloved ♡

I hope you're doing well!! If you have a favorite AU idea for any of your f/os I'd love to hear about it!

Moxie @tex-treasures

Hi @tex-treasures sorry I didn't see this in my inbox! 😅 I've got a few aus floating around in my silly brain! But one I was working on a while ago was a vigilante au for my bnha f/o and s/i, Shota and Sakura! Sho is still his usual self but my s/i (Sakura) never went to UA and ended up becoming a vigilante instead of a pro hero bc she feels like she can actually make a difference if she doesn't have to listen to hero society rules. But being a vigilante is illegal in the my hero universe so Shota has to try to stop them, so they have a bit of a cat and mouse dynamic going on.

[breesasofty]

June 11th, Tuesday. 2024.

Amo ter voltado à terapia com o Verlaine. Sinto que gostamos genuinamente um do outro como seres humanos, falamos uma linguagem (expressão do ser) muito parecida, e sempre tenho a sensação de que estou conversado com um amigo sensato (às vezes chato, é claro [em toda terapia há resistência], mas na maioria das vezes, sábio).

Na última sessão, senti que tive um "encontro de almas" com meu terapeuta (inexplicável o nível de conexão e confiança), no tocante de ele conseguir enxergar a minha verdade como ser-humano (falho), e por ser falho: ser completo e real. E não receber um julgamento quando "stumbling over" ter que encarar esses aspectos da existência. Ao invés disso, fornecer ativamente um espaço de compreensão em que não existe o medo ou a repressão.

Acho que é sim, em partes, como freud discursava sobre a importância do falar. É terapêutico quando se há a sensação de segurança emocional, a permissão para ser quem você é por inteiro; e poder discutir sobre o que você geralmente não iria conversar em uma situação day-to-day com o outro (insertar nome), à título de manter sua máscara/papel social e claro, as aparências.

O que me faz perceber que certo prazer no isolamento vem de não precisar atuar nenhuma máscara, nenhum papel. Somente ser você, mesmo que sozinho, é um grande alívio. Eu, por exemplo, possuo mil papéis sociais diferentes para cumprir e preciso ser capaz de manter a harmonia em todos os aspectos da vida; então, stonks: sozinha eu não preciso fazer nada disso. Máscara social e aparências, quanto esforço psíquico. Só muito louca mesmo pra conseguir fazer isso.

•

i'm feeling quite blissful today, and the most depressed i have ever been (just kidding, i don't actually measure my level of depression, but oh boy; is it hard to deal with pain and sadness every single time it resurfaces from wherever place it hides away for quite some days?).

I used to be an expert in what can make you come out of your normal senses (and I took some pride), but i have been running away from that part of my being (until now, i mean; i have finally let the wheel go, where the car will take me?). I fought it because the ones I loved deserved better from me. Deserved a better me. So I tried to master a brain that had only one mean.

Those recent events, dad dying and all... now, there's no one left that I love. (How could that be? To love so few, and have all the few be taken away from me?)

So I float around the room every night, I fall asleep in the air. Let the battles be by day. May my doom be at nighttime. And doom feels like knowing every part of my soul as memorizing an old maze, but forgetting about a physical body is known by freedom do go any place.

I've been trying. All that I've been doing... is trying. And I know everyone can tell. But I'm just not sure of what I'm doing: Am I putting on a show to prove that I'm okay or what, is this a new, matured, part of me that took control in a crises? That superego stuff all over again?

Because no one can deny that I deliver when the curtains are open; they just have no idea that I summon my demons like a mother calling for its children when the curtains get closed.

And how glorious, how sacred it feels.

[oohnoniall]

The Lantsov Emerald [Kaz Brekker x OC] - Chapter One (Anastasia)

WARNINGS: cursing.

       The Grisha were puppets. She could tell that from the way her father had them paraded before him. No one should be treated the way they were and yet, it was the safest they had ever been. She had not grown up in a time before the Darkling. She had only ever known him to reside over the Little Palace. He kept the Grisha safe.

       That didn't stop them from having to perform great feats at the winter fete every year. She had been in attendance every year since she was six.

       She still remembered that first one clearly. It had been the first time she had been presented to the court. Her mother had actually come to her room, getting her ready to be shown off like a prized horse. It was the first time she had been allowed to wear a tiara.

       Nikolai had teased her for it the entire night. He still teased her for it.

       "Annie," a voice hissed to her right. Her eldest brother looked proud in his jacket, his medals pinned to his chest. They showed that he had claimed something in his year of service. Even if she was certain that it was not a brain. "Get your head out of the clouds."

       Vasily had never exactly been close to Anastasia. He had always been more focused on learning how to run Ravka, how to be the king that their country deserved. He had never paid much attention to her as Nikolai had. He hadn't paid Nikolai much attention either. Vasily was less their brother and more an acquaintance.

       Yet he was all that she had.

       Nikolai had left three years before to study and to serve in the military. Anastasia had written him daily letters for the first year, weekly the second. Now, she was lucky if she wrote him monthly. He didn't answer the letters. Too busy with his studies, with forgetting all about the life he had lived back home.

       Forgetting Anastasia.

       "My head is never in the clouds, Vasie," she huffed as she straightened her spine. She found it somewhat hard to breathe in her gown. Her corset was too tight, her mother had said her waist needed to be smaller and her maids had apparently agreed. Despite the lack of oxygen, there was no denying that the gown was beautiful. It was a shade of cream that matched Vasily's jacket perfectly with sky blue lace detailing on the bodice and matching blue flowers embroidered along the hemline.

       It was not the prettiest gown she owned, but it was one of her favorites. If only because she liked that she stood out just a bit from her family. Her mother's gown would be plain, letting everyone focus instead on the Lantsov emerald that would rest on her left hand. Her father and brother would both be sporting their military jackets, the pins and medals gleaming in the light. If Nikolai had been there, he would have at least been the one to escort Anastasia.

       Instead, her arm was linked with Vasily's. A bored smile crossed her features, taking away the seventeen-year-old's normal vibrancy. She despised the winter fete. The past three years had all been more disappointing than the last.

       It had nothing to do with the Grisha. But it had everything to do with the fact that she had no one to speak with. No one to confide in or giggle with when the night grew boring. Life without her brother had become stale, boring even.

       She sighed softly, trying to push out all those negative feelings as Vasily began to gently pull her out of the small antechamber. Her heart pounded in her chest. A four-eighths rhythm that seemed to skip the second beat. She wondered what it would sound like as an aria.

       "Presenting His Highness Crown Prince Vasily Lantsov and Her Highness Princess Anastasia Lantsov," a booming voice announced to the waiting crowd of nobles and rich merchants that surrounded Os Alta.

       A small smattering of applause greeted them, as it did every year. They were not the show though. They were merely just important guests, visitors to the show of something amazing. Something that none of them were entirely prepared for. At least, not yet.

       "Mingle," Vasily murmured in her ear, not bothering to bend. The two were only mere inches apart. A fact that Vasily hated and Nikolai had found humorous. "Just don't wander far from my sight."

       "And if I don't?" She did not move to raise a brow or do anything that might cause alarm. She barely moved her lips as she spoke. Speaking with Vasily just meant keeping it quiet and not allowing anyone to hear.

       "Then you'll never make a friend that isn't Nikolai." Despite their lack of a relationship, he did care for his younger sister. He cared for his brother as well. Although that relationship was far more strained. Not even Vasily could ignore the rumors surrounding his siblings. Anastasia, however, would never be a threat to him getting the throne upon their father's death.

       She gave a very slight nod of her head. If one happened to see it, they would merely assume she had just shifted her stance or something of that nature. They'd never realize that she had agreed to do something for him. Even if it was as simple as mingle with those who gathered with them in celebration of the second army.

       Her brother released her arm, allowing her to slip free from him and into the crowd. She would not leave the room. She knew better than to cause Vasily a heart attack. Had Nikolai been there, she wouldn't have had to worry about any of it. She would have been able to do as pleased. He'd just follow after her, his charisma hiding the fact that he was threatening people or watching over the sister he'd never asked for.

       Soft laughter, low tenors mixed with high sopranos, filled the air with a gentle melody. One that Anastasia could feel tingling in her bones and in her heart. The melodies of life in Ravka had always seemed to flow through the princess. She just hadn't said a word about it to anyone. Her mother had only ever been told she excelled in music lessons.

       She had strived to excel in everything though. Anything to avoid being sent off like her brother.

       "Princess," a tall young man stepped in front of her, blocking her from moving forward. He bowed at the waist to her, his left arm going behind his back in a sign of respect. His dark, blue-black hair fell into his face in the softest of waves. Briefly, she thought about reaching out to run her fingers through them. "I was certain we wouldn't be graced with your presence this evening."

       "And why exactly is that?" Her tone was soft, lilting and pretty. If she added a bit more breath it would sound more like a song.

       "There's a rumor that your parents sent you to Fjerda a week ago," he admitted as he straightened his spine. His eyes were bright, only a few shades darker than the Lantsov emerald. She wondered how many women he had enchanted with his eyes alone.

       Anastasia forced a gentle laugh to leave her lips as she looked at the man. "I'm afraid I will not see Fjerda for a few more years. Although, my departure date is not to be common knowledge." Her eyes glinted in the light, matching the sky blue detailing on her dress.

       "Of course, your highness," the man nodded his hand once. "Might I have this dance with you?"

       She considered it for a moment. A dance didn't mean they'd be courting. Nor did it mean she would be respected. Everything was so political nowadays. If she did not do the right thing, she would create a scandal. However, most of the time it felt as though if she breathed wrong she would cause a scandal or trouble of some sort. It was all quite exhausting if she were being honest.

       Slowly, Anastasia took the man's outstretched hand. "Of course."

       He led her towards the small dance floor. The winter fete was not a place for dancing. But her mother had thought that it would be nice to have a bit of a dance. She was certain that it had only been in case Nikolai or Vasily had caught sight of a woman that might one day become a queen. Or at the very least it made for a good chessboard.

       "What is your name?" She asked as he placed on hand on her waist. She could feel eyes on them. She was certain his family was watching closely, certain that her brother was preparing to protect her honor.

       "Dima Antonov," he said as the music began to swell. He led her through an intricate waltz. One that she had danced a million times. It was practically drilled into her feet.

       The music spoke to her in a way that nothing ever had before. She loved the way it made her feel as though she were floating on air. Every rest was like holding her breath, the crescendo was the beating of her heart as Dima twirled her across the floor. Her gown floating around them as though there was nothing holding her onto this plane of existence. She could fly away, farther than any bird.

       "You're an incredible dancer," his voice brought her back down to the earth. Gravity pulling against her limbs and her hopes.

       "Oh?" An amused smile crossed her features. "You're not so bad yourself."

       A glint of something was in his eyes. She could not tell if it was amusement or something darker. She prayed to the Saints that she would not have to deal with a pining lordling with dreams of becoming king. It wasn't as though the throne would ever fall to her. Yet, some of these lordlings seemed to believe that they would inherit the throne upon marrying her. Her betrothal didn't seem to matter to any of them either.

       Why would she marry a backward Fjerdan when she could have a good, honest Ravakan? Honestly, the whole thing was rather dull.

       There was nothing that could be done about her marriage. Contracts had been signed long ago. Although, the Fjerdans were not holding up their end of the bargain particularly well. It seemed as if they assumed they could do whatever they wanted to the Grisha and get away with it. It seemed as though all they cared about was getting another country to trade with them. Something that her parents also wanted.

       "Thank you, your highness," Dima broke her out of her thoughts as he dipped her in time with the music. Her long flowing hair nearly touched the floor as strands began to fall from the mess of braids that her maids had put it up in. Her heart skipped another beat as she stared up into his eyes.

       Love was such a trivial matter to her and yet, she found it hard to not be wooed by bright eyes and a dazzling smile. She was just a girl after all. A girl with hopes, dreams, ambitions.

       Dima's dazzling smile just happened to be distracting enough to keep her mind off of her ambitions.

       "I've heard that the Princess of Ravka was a sight to behold, but I didn't expect the rumors to be true." He admitted as he gently pulled her back up. She found that she was pressed rather closely to the young man.

       "I take it that this is your first winter fete?" One of her eyebrows rose just a fraction of a centimeter, barely enough for anyone but the man standing in front of her to notice.

       "I've been spending my time with the First Army. My father is a general," he admitted as he stepped back enough to make their dance proper once more. "I've finally been allowed leave and thought I would spend my time is Os Alta."

       "And this has nothing to do with our new Sun Summoner, does it?"

       "Nothing at all," Dima's lips quirked in a handsome smirk. One that sent heat racing to Anastasia's cheeks. She fought down her blush, not wanting a soul to know her feelings.

       Her mother had once told her that she was an open book. Her emotions were easy to read and easy to figure out. Her mother had made sure that she knew it was not a good thing. Beauty was what mattered. At least, until she had done what she needed to. Then she could worry about falling in love and being in love. Until then, she had to focus on the Fjerdan prince and providing an heir when the time came.

       Anastasia's life was nothing more than a game of chess. She just didn't know if she was the pawn or the queen.

       The music slowed to a stop, her heart still kept the steady beat of the waltz. If only to keep it inside of her for a few hours more. Dima stepped away from her, bowing his head politely.

       "Thank you for the dance, your highness," he took her hand in his and raised it to his knuckles. He brushed his lips against it once, before he slipped away, disappearing into the crowd and out of her life.

       She knew better than anyone that it was easier to dance with royalty than actually spend time with them. It was one of the reasons why Nikolai had been her only friend for so long.

       Anastasia did not allow for this to keep her sedated for long. Instead, she slipped away into the crowd. Her eyes searched out Vasily, who was drinking something that was not water while flirting with a lord's daughter. One that he had been speaking with for nearly a year now. She was expecting a courting announcement any day now.

       Vasily being preoccupied was a blessing to her. She could escape from his supposedly watchful gaze and find something to do that was not fawn over the Grisha and what they could do. It wasn't like she hated the Grisha. She just thought that they didn't need to be put on parade. There was no reason for them to be a sort of sideshow.

       Anastasia slipped out of the throne room of the little palace. The noise of the music and the endless chatter allowed for her to be silent, despite the harsh clicking noise of her heels on the tiled floors.

       She could not lose herself completely in the crowd. Others moved out of the way for her, occasional bows were thrown her way while others tried to speak with her about some piece of political jargon that she didn't particularly care about. She was certain that they were only speaking to her because they thought she had her father's ear. It would be quite a shock to them when they realized that she didn't. She had no say in anything political. She was not allowed in council meetings.

       All she was was the pretty princess. The one they could trade for marriage and gain political allies through. It was quite aggravating if anyone were to ask for her opinion. Which they more than likely wouldn't. No one ever did.

       She kept her head held high, her chin pointed just slightly to show she knew who she was and what power she held, as she walked down the hallways and through the crowds. She rounded a corner, her brow furrowing as she noticed something out of the ordinary.

       A man in a guard's uniform. A man that she did not recognize.

       Anastasia knew every guard in the palaces. She had trained with much of them under Nikolai's orders. They had treated her with respect and constantly allowed her to win while also ignoring her horrid aim. Seeing someone new at the winter fete? That was quite unlikely.

       "Excuse me," her voice was soft, barely carrying above the noise of the music and idle chatter. Yet, anyone who knew the royal family would have stopped at her voice. The man kept walking for two steps before realizing his mistake.

       Something was very wrong in the Little Palace. None of the guards should have continued walking. Not even the freshest of faces would have made that mistake.

       She could tell that the man was cursing his mistake as he turned on his heel. There was a look in his eye. A glint of rage, of anxiety even. She would never wish to be the one that rage was directed against. His blue eyes seemed to stare into her soul, drowning her as though it were the depths of the sea or the Fold. His cheekbones were high, sharp enough that they might cut her if she were to touch them.

       She ignored the thundering in her chest, her four-eighths time had become a sixteenth. Fast, quick, ready to jump into her throat.

       The fact that his rage soon melted into the look of one of a new recruit did not help. His features still made him deadly, despite the innocence that he had schooled into his features. Anastasia was someone who wore a mask every day of her life. She had gotten rather good at figuring out who was faking things. She had found different ways to discern who wore a mask and who wore their true face. It was normally in the eyes, in the quirk of their lips, the slightest motion of the eyebrows. There was always a tell.

       It didn't matter who wore the mask.

       "Your Highness," he bowed somewhat awkwardly. It was almost as though there was something wrong with him. Like he had been hurt before or like he found it difficult to bow before anyone. Perhaps he thought himself a king in his own right. "May I help you?"

       His Ravakan was somewhat harsh, the syllables not coming out as easily as they would for a native speaker. She didn't think that was a warning sign. If they had needed more guards, they would have looked to recent immigrants. They'd be too happy to work for the palace and send money back to their families. She just wondered where exactly he was from. The accent didn't seem to be anywhere she could place.

       It was too prim for Kerch and too gentle for Fjerda. Maybe he was from Novi Zem, but he didn't have the air. She figured she would find out later. Now was not the time to question anything as simple as where his accent stemmed from. That would be a conversation for later.

       "You're new," she said as she stepped forward. She did not step close enough to be within his personal bubble, just enough so that he could hear her without straining himself. "I haven't seen you on the grounds before." She had not sparred with him before. It was just improper for her to say so with the entirety of the court present.

       He cleared his throat once, as though he was unsure how to approach her. Or maybe just the topic at hand.

       ”They’ve had me preparing for tonight for the last few weeks,” he said it casually, as though it were nothing but the truth. It should have been. No one would have been fool enough to break into the palaces on the one night when everyone was on high alert.

       At least, that’s what they had all been led to believe.  There was no telling if this was the truth or not. No telling if they were actually safe or if they were all just pawns in someone’s chess game.

       Anastasia was prone to believing one over the other.

       ”I see,” her eyes blazed as she looked at him, not daring to back down from his soulful gaze. “Well, in any case, I like to be well acquainted with my guards, Mr?”

       ”Vanzin,” he said quickly. He no longer looked nervous, the name fell smoothly from his lips. “Nikolai Vanzin.”

       ”Nikolai?”

       ”My mother thought it would be lucky to name me after a prince,” his cheeks heated slightly, enough to make her believe the excuse.

       ”Very well then, Mr. Vanzin. I will see you later then.”

       “I’ll be here all night, Your Highness.”

       A small smile crossed Anastasia’s lips at that, a gleam in her eye that had nothing to do with mischief and everything to do with the new handsome guard. “I expect to see you on the training field tomorrow.” She did not wait for his answer as she turned away.

       Anastasia did not notice the scowl that crossed Vanzin’s face, nor did she notice as he slipped unnoticed into the crowd. Vanzin soon becoming nothing more than a ghost.

       A ghost who went by the name of Kaz Brekker.

[thebisexualdogdad]

Teen Wolf the Camp Half Blood AU

Co written with @inhumanshadows

The kids and their parents:

Scott - Poseidon

Allison - Artemis 

Stiles - Hermes

Derek - Ares

Lydia - Aphrodite

Kira - Athena

Danny - Apollo

Malia - Demeter

Isaac - Apollo

Brett - Dionysus

Theo - Hades

Liam - Hephaestus

Jackson - Aphrodite

Aidan - Ares

Ethan - Ares

Jordan - Hephaestus

Hayden - Demeter

Mason - Dionysus

Corey - Hermes

· So Stiles and Hermes kids love to fuck with the Artemis and Ares kids while they are training

· Alison is the only hunter that doesn't travel with the goddess

· The Hermes kids will lay paint grenades and wait for the ensuing carnage.

· Stiles also is like a third Stoll sibling

· Derek is the one who saves Stiles' ass from getting kicked

· Derek stops his siblings from attacking Stiles like every other week

· Brett and Mason throw the best parties every Friday night

· And it's the only place all the cabins truly get along

· Those parties defy expectations in that alcohol isn't a big part of why everyone gets along

· It's just everyone hanging out and relaxing

· And it's the best place for everyone to hang out with their significant others

· Those who are dating are seated next to their S/Os or dancing

· And those who are crushing on each other are being set up by their friends or desperately trying to make a move

· Hayden is trying to get Malia to just go talk to kira

· Scott is asking Percy advice about talking to Isaac and it's going swimmingly

· pun intended

· Malia finally kisses Kira when they are dancing together and Hayden "accidently" bumps Malia closer to her

· Malia is furiously apologizing when Kira kisses her to stop her rambling

· And everyone at the party is like finally! 

· Being from Aphrodite Lydia is embodies love and is the most romantic girlfriend

· Lydia and Alison are talking about their favorite things about camp

· Stiles is sitting in Derek's lap making out.

· And nobody knows where Danny or Aidan are cause they snuck off to fool around in the woods

· "They'll be fine" is the general consensus around the party.

· Corey and Mason are cuddled together, enjoying the stars

· And Theo is basically grinding on Liam on the dancefloor

· There is not a cabin on site that Stiles and the Hermes kids have not annoyed the shit out of

· Nope. And Stiles doesn't care that it could cause a prank war.

· Scott likes to sit at the bottom of the lake by cabin 3 to think and get away from it all. · Isaac has been looking for him and just stands on the pier "I can't breathe underwater..."

· "Just float with me then" 

· And they float on their backs, holding hands, looking up at the cloudy skin

· They lay there for what feels like an hour and then go into the cabin to lay together. Thankfully Scott's powers make drying off easy as hell

· Theo and Liam are the chaotic boyfriends, they are getting into trouble all. the. time.

· They're basically always on cleanup duty after dinner

· And they are always sneaking out after curfew

· Usually to steal food from the kitchen

· And they always get caught by the furies that patrol the camp after curfew

· Danny and Aidan are the athletic couple they are always working out together

· They make it a competition every time

· Meanwhile Stiles is in the background eating chips like "i wonder what it's like to be in shape"

· Derek snags the bag out of his hands. "well time to stop wondering and start doing

· Stiles is whining but Derek makes him go on a run with him

· "This is torture! You're trying to kill me! You're a horrible boyfriend!"

· "No I'm making sure you don't have a heart attack from all the junk food."

· Derek assures him that they'll start small

· Stiles agrees to be a little healthier but Scott still sneaks him snacks when Derek's not looking

· Derek knows. He talks to Isaac about it.

· "Idky they're sneaking around. I never said that Stiles had to cut out junk food completely."

· Isaac: "Simple... our boyfriends think different"

· "They share one brain cell and currently neither one of them has it"

· "exactly. But if it gets stiles to be a bit healthier... it's a step in the right direction"

· Meanwhile Jordan is busy forging a new collapsible spear

· Which Stiles takes from his cabin and is messing around with it and accidentally spears his foot

· Everyone hears the scream and the Stolls carry Stiles to Danny

· Danny heals Stiles while Derek is scolding him for being so dumb

· "In my defense... I was left unsupervised"

· Parrish is like "with my spear which you stole!"

· Stiles "oh calm down worry wart you can make another one'

· Parrish is inspecting the weapon. "You aren't getting out of this that easy

· Jordan makes Stiles clean out the entire Hephaestus cabin 

· Stiles is like what's the big deal and then immediately regrets everything when he sees all the dirt and rust

· Jordan pats stiles on the back. “Here’s the instructions and supplies. Good luck. I’ll check on you in two hours.”

· When Jordan does come back Stiles is sitting on an upside bucket eating donuts 

· "Stiles!" 

· "What! I need energy!"

· “You haven’t cleaned a thing!”

· "Look at that corner it's spotless!" 

· "There's a spiderweb Stiles" 

· "That's mister webs home I'm not destroying his hard work!"

· Jordan is not happy.  · “I’ll be back.” He leaves and brings Derek back. “Here mave you can get him to do it

· "Stiles, if you don't clean this cabin we will be doing 5 laps around the lake" 

· "What?? That's insane!" 

· "Babe the Ares kid doing 10 before breakfast"

· “Exactly the Ares kids! They’re like their own military.”

· “Come on Stiles. There’s a lot to go...”

· "Ugh fine. But I'm having an entire pizza when I'm done"

· “We’ll see...”

· Meanwhile Thiam are fooling around in the showers

· As they always do though with Theo being in Hades there's absolutely no rules about coercing with other campers so they always have a place to fool around in his cabin

· Nico is typically off with his boyfriend so the place is empty and even then. Theo had Jordan install soundproofing

· Lydia often kicks Jackson and the other Aphrodite kids out so she can have alone time with Allison

· Some think Lydia is pushy but Jackson knows to listen to her

· Allison, Lydia, Malia,Kira, and Hayden also have girls night in the Aphrodite cabin

· Makeovers, spa days, general destressing. While the boys are jumping from the roof of cabin 3 to the lake

· And they have water guns which Scott doesn't need and he just makes full on waves crash on people

· Someone inevitably loses his shorts

· It's usually Danny which no one complains about

· If it’s someone else no one complains either

· Everybody is gay and just horny teenagers

· Malia often takes Kira for strolls through the woods and points out every kind of flower

· Malia makes the best flower crowns

· She makes Hayden wear one too whenever she gets pouty 

· "Turn that frown upside down little sister"

· Hayden is like whenever you ask a kid “is that a smile?” And like 5 seconds later they are smiling and laughing

· Hayden would never admit but she really likes having Malia as a sister

· She loves her sister. And she wouldn’t change it

[ahsoka-lives]

Apprentice

SUMMARY/ AN: INQUISITOR CAL SOULMATE AU The first words your soulmate says to you appears on your wrist after they’re spoken. Reader is almost in Cal’s position except the backstory is different(you’ll see what I mean and reminds me of Rey a bit). I’m sure you’ve all read a fic that started with the Bracca scene so I tried to change it up. Gif is by @ciricinnamonroll​ and it’s sos os goood. Please lmk what you guys think!! 

WARNINGS: A bit violent and a little sad

WORD COUNT: 1594

   The weather on Bracca was as cheerful as ever. Grey and dark blue clouds were scattered across the sky as the rain carried on into the night. You were exhausted, no beyond exhausted. If you were to spend one more minute on top of that frigate you would have fallen asleep up there.

You’d been a scrapper for as long as you could remember, Bracca was all you’ve ever known. The woman who raised you claimed that you just appeared on her doorstep in a small wooden basket, barely a few months old. She took you in and raised you as if she was your mother but she was already old when you arrived. She passed away when you were young, leaving you to learn the ways of the junkyard planet by yourself. You were eternally grateful for the time you had with her but there was part of you that ached for that feeling of belonging again, for a family. Everyday alone here was the same; Wake up, go to work, take the train back to the husk of an Imperial Walker that you called home, and do it again the next day.

One day, you told yourself, one day you would meet your soulmate and then you would get to have that feeling. You dreamed of the day you would look down and see the first words of your true love on your skin. You knew only a handful of people who had theirs and the envy you felt was unparalleled. 

Suddenly the train began slowing down but it was way too soon for it to be your stop. The calm chatter of the train transformed into hushed gasps and you could almost feel the tensions rise. You jumped to your feet and looked toward the commotion at the front of the train car. 

“Imperial troopers!” A small boy who couldn’t be older than 15 yelled from against the window. 

“Troopers are stopping the train?” You mutter aloud to yourself. This was unusual, sure troopers were just about everywhere nowadays but they almost never did random stops. 

The train finally came to a full stop and the doors to hissed open. The sound of the rain pattering onto the ground could be heard from inside. Two troopers walked onto the train and side-by-side inspected the car while ordering identification papers from everyone on board. This was also unusual, your stomach began to churn with anxiety. What was going on?

“Everybody outside now!” A trooper ordered with the usual lifeless tone. Within seconds all of the passengers filed out onto the muddy Bracca terrain. You pulled the hood of your poncho over your head in an attempt to protect yourself from the onslaught of rain. 

Standing side by side perfectly still were two Imperial Inquisitors. You recognized them from a propaganda poster that the Empire used to trick young boys into willingly enlisting but you weren’t sure of their purpose. Living out here kept you hidden from a lot of the Empire’s atrocities and you considered yourself lucky. As you were pushed toward the Inquisitors by the wall of troopers that formed behind you, you fixed your gaze to the mud that caked your boots. 

“We are here today because we received word that one of you may be a traitor to the Empire.” A bitter voice called from behind her winged helmet. “It would seem that one of you is a Jedi.” 

Her words sparked visible confusion from the group and everyone began exchanging worried glances between one another. A Jedi? Aren’t those extinct? 

“If this traitor doesn’t come forward and reveal themselves, all of you will be executed. Show yourself, or we will spill all of your blood!” She shouted angrily and the sound of blasters being aimed could be heard from behind you. Mere moments passed before she sighed in mock disappointment. “Very well, open fire.”

“Wait! Stop!” The young boy from earlier shouted from his place next to you and stepped forward, arms raised above his head in submission. Shock ran through the line of your peers at the events unfolding in front of you. 

“Kestis, time to play your part in this.” The woman commanded and stepped away from the other Inquisitor. 

The second Inquisitor reached to his hip and grabbed a small piece of equipment. In one fluid motion the Inquisitor released it from its clasp and brought two fiery red blades to life. You let a loud gasp slip past your mouth and terror flooded throughout your body. The man called Kestis stalked toward the boy like a predatory animal and that he was. The boy was backing away with fear written all over his face and your heart was racing. Rapid eyes moved from the Inquisitor to the boy and you couldn’t help but think they had to be mistaken. This little boy couldn’t possibly be that much of a threat. 

“Kestis, he has to prove himself first.” The woman growled from behind him, clearly aggravated. 

“Fine, we’ll do this your way.” The deep voice of the man just a few feet in front of you sent chills down your spine. He deactivated his weapon and placed it back at his side before extending a menacing hand to the boy. When the boy hesitated his wrist was grabbed harshly and pulled into Kestis’s arms. He kicked against the Inquisitors hold and grunted useless “get off”s and “let go”s, your heart ached for him. There has to be something I can do.

Before you knew it he had dragged the boy to the cliff side and the Inquisitor hoisted the boy up by his collar and held him over the edge with ease. 

“If he lives, he’s a Jedi and I get to kill him myself. If he dies then we kill them all.” His voice was riddled with irritation, Kestis clearly didn’t like to be told what to do. The Inquisitor gave the line of bystanders one last glance before turning back to the child. “So long, Jedi.” 

The gloved hand left his collar. Screams left the strained throats of those around you and the rain seemed to quiet itself to allow the sound to echo louder. Your hand shot out helplessly as if to grab the boy and a scream of your own left your throat raw. The next few seconds defied all of what you thought possible

It was as if the air obeyed the profound “NO” that you screamed and halted the movements of the plummeting child. He floated over the edge of the cliff for just a moment before your reflexes pulled your hand back to your chest. While the words “What did I do” rattled around in your brain, you cradled the hand that acted on its own and the boy fell. His screams were heard only for a moment as he fell from earshot. 

“So, it wasn’t the boy.” The woman hummed curiously as the two Inquisitors turned toward you. Tears pricked your eyes and mixed with the rain against your cheeks as guilt filled your consciousness. “You don’t even know what just happened, do you?” 

You were panting and staring at the rogue hand, barely paying any mind to the Inquisitors ahead of you. They paused unsure of what was to be done with you. The Inquisitors seemed to be arguing over the issue but you really didn’t care, your mind was still reeling at what just happened around you, to you, and to that poor boy. 

“We can’t just leave her here, Kestis.” 

“We shouldn’t kill her either, she doesn’t even know what she is.” Kestis bit back in a hushed but aggressive tone and stared down the woman in front of him. 

“Do what you want, I’m done here. Troopers, they’re free to go.” The Inquisitor snapped and turned on her heel to leave. You were finally pulled from your trance at the damning sound of his boots stomping over to you. 

Your eyes snapped up and your instincts kick in once again making your feet start to step away from him. The man let out a low growl and grabbed your wrist pulling you to him while he simultaneously brought his masked face to sit in front of yours. From this close you could hear the heavy breaths that left his modulator.

“You’re with me now.” He gritted and within seconds a burning sensation tore into your skin making you scream out in pain. “Oh come on, I barely touched you.” 

You yanked your wrist from his grasp and looked at him appalled. Thankfully, the burning quickly subsided and you blinked away the tears to let your eyes focus on the words forming in your skin. 

Oh my gods, this is it? 

“You’re who I’ve been waiting for?” Your unnerved state was evident in your tone. Kestis hissed and pressed his hand over his wrist as the words you spoke burned into him. He hurriedly ripped his glove off and pulled up the sleeve on his uniform as if they were the cause of his pain. The cold rains of Bracca fell onto the newly revealed skin and soothed his skin.

“What an interesting turn of events.” He chuckled as he read the words over and over again. He was surprised to say the least. “You’re really stuck with me now, hun.” 

He pulled his glove back on and laughed once again, he couldn’t believe his luck. His soulmate and a new apprentice all in one.

[missallsundaes]

And allow me to ask about your selfships in flowers now, iris and zinnia

Both of these have a little bit diff answers to the rest.

Iris - Does your self insert for your f/os source material have a detailed and complex story and character arc, or are they just kind of vibing?

EVENTUALLY I will need to do a self ship post I can link too, because I have a different self insert for each of my top threes. The SIMPLE answer is they all have detailed backstories. The detailed answer I'll put under a cut at the bottom of this post.

Zinnia - how often do you think about your f/o? Do they live in your head rent free, or do you not think about them for months on end before suddenly hyperfixating on them nonstop for a week?

; w ; I feel like you've seen my blog, I never stop thinking about my boys. Sanji and Corazon occupy the most of my brain, but if I see Buggy I get emotional over him too.

OKAY SO HERE I GO about my self inserts. All three are me in personality, interests, and talents. All three have pink hair and green eyes, and glasses.

My s/i Ace x Sanji is an art historian from the South Blue.

They were traveling on a ship that was transporting priceless paintings from one island to another for an exhibition, when the ship was attacked by pirates after the artwork to sell for the Beri it would get them. They were one of only a couple of survivors of this attack, getting away on a scrap of wood that was floating that they managed to scramble on top of. They were rescued by the Straw Hats. This fits in canon timeline between Little Garden and Drum. They fall for Sanji very quickly, despite his bad habits, infatuated with his flirty nature and constant compliments. Despite Nami's warnings that he was like that with "all women," after they come out as nonbinary to Sanji during a heart to heart, he still treats them with the love and affection that made them fall for him. They bond while cooking together, taste testing each other's food and experimenting with new recipes at dinner for the crew. Make quick best friends with Usopp over mutual loves for drawing, plants, bugs, and being snipers. (They are trained in archery.) Jinbei reminds them of their late father, and they quickly get very attracted to the Fishman, looking up to him and asking him for guidance often. Other best friend is Robin, they bond over art history and how it related to archeology, she helps teach them to read poneglyphs so they can help her. [[Sometimes trio ship with Usopp bc I also love Usopp and Sanuso is my otp]]

My s/i Ace x Corazon is a Selkie from the North Blue. This OC is Canon Divergent

Info on Selkies (mostly based on Real World Mythos, but some tweaking done for OP Universe)

Legends Say that a man who finds a selkie for a wife are blessed with a beautiful obedient wife. At least that’s the human version of the tale. In the selkie world, it is a warning, a cautionary tale: never be caught by a human man, lest you have your coat stolen and never return to the sea. Selkies are generally only found in the farthest north points of the North Blue, where seals are abundant. True to legends, Selkies can shift between human and seal form with the use of their coats or seal skins. Selkies are thought to be rarer than mermaids, but due to the nature of their transformation, true numbers are unknown outside the community. When a selkie has her skin stolen she has a compulsion to marry the person who stole it, usually with discomfort to the selkie. If her coat is willingly given to a man, it must be willingly given back. Selkies sometimes bare children to the man they marry, but when they find the hiding place of their coat they will abandon these children to return to the sea. Some legends say that these children are sometimes visited or saved by large seals later in their lives. When selkies first transform, their coat is the clothes they are wearing, so they are naked until clothed in the human fashion.

My self insert specifically!

In seal form, they are a harp seal, dusty grey with dark spots. In human form they have long dusty pink hair and deep dark green eyes, large like a seals. Their coat takes the form of a fluffy winter coat, with the same colors as their seal skin. When they are wearing their coat, it works similar to a zoan fruit, they can transform by choice, and can do a hybrid form (similar to a mermaid) as well. Not trained in any particular fighting style, they're not much use in a battle, but they know basic first aid and are a good support to a team. They witnessed the murder of Corazon by Doffy (and prior, saw Law being placed in the treasure chest). //Canon Divergent// When Doffy leaves the island, leaving Corazon dying in the snow, They nurse him back to health slowly, giving him their coat to keep warm so that he doesn't freeze to death, and builds a small fire to keep him alive. When he comes to, they help him move inside the partially destroyed building. He gives her coat back willingly after explaining to him what it means to her, and that and his deep caring nature made her fall for him. When he's well enough to travel she travels with him so that he can reunite with Law, and they 'adopt' him.

My self ship for Ace x Buggy is a performance Clown part of the Buggy Pirates.

Ace has been a part of the crew for as long as any of the other original members and harbored feelings for their captain for a very long time before eventually breaking down and confessing after feeling like they were going to lose him to impel down. Buggy is initially very awkward and flustered and nervous about the confession but admits that he had feelings too. He's a bit of a tsundere so sometimes it takes a lot to get hid real feelings out in the open. Buggy has huge jealousy issues and will be very very possessive. Has a huge soft spot for Ace. They fight with a comically large hammer, and with a similar style to capoeira where they are dancing as they fight. They are obnoxious after they're officially together, but it's cute.

[jeranasblog]

No one else, I promise

Summary: Tony helps Peter through their first shared heat.

Rating: E

Notes:  This story is my third @starkercestevent​ contribution.  Kink for the third story: Size Difference (Bingo board at the end of the post). Read here the first and second OS. They add up to one story but can be read separately, too.

Warnings: Adoptive Father/Adoptive Son, don’t like it, don’t read it

Read on Ao3

When Peter opened his eyes, he knew immediately that he was in heat. In the past few days, he had already realized that he slicked faster and that the scent of his Alpha, his Daddy, was enough to make him lose control, but the emptiness in his hole had been mostly bearable. Now, however, just the idea of being without his Daddy’s cock was too much and a distressed whimper slipped past his lips.

 Peter needed a second to orientate himself. He was lying in a bed and according to the surrounding scent, it was his Daddy’s, but he couldn’t see the Alpha anywhere. Panic started to spread through his chest, his mind screaming at him that he was rejected, and his stomach was turning with a mixture of fear and longing.

 He tried to get up, tried to search for his Alpha, but his limbs were weak, unable to carry his weight. Every time he tried to pull himself up, his knees gave way, forcing him to fall back onto the bed. Peter whined, knowing in the back of his mind that his distress was exaggerated, but fear outweighed all rational thoughts.

 He was burning. His skin itched, sweat and slick were smeared all over his body, and every touch that didn’t come from his Alpha felt like too much. Peter made short work of his clothes, pulling on one end until the fabric ripped, and the pieces were scattered all over the floor. He couldn’t even stand the feeling of the soft panties on his skin, eagerly stripping to soothe the burning sensation.

 The relief was short-lived. Although the uncomfortable pressure of the clothes had disappeared, he only became more aware of the emptiness inside him, and Peter didn’t even bother to stuff himself with his own fingers. It wouldn’t be enough anyway, it would only fuel the fire which was burning inside him. A fire that could only be extinguished by his Daddy.

 Slick was running down his thighs, raising the awareness that something, no, that someone was missing. Peter cried, softly calling for his Daddy, but he didn’t get a response, and each second that passed left him more devastated.

A few minutes later, Peter couldn’t take it anymore. He tried to get back on his feet, struggling to keep himself upright. He wouldn’t make it downstairs if he tried to walk, but maybe he could crawl. He rolled out of his Daddy’s bed, catching his weight on his hands and knees and tried to move to the door. It was slow, but luckily it worked.

 The hard wood of the stairs pressed uncomfortably against his knees, but Peter didn’t care, determined to find his Daddy. He took the steps one by one, guided by the scent of his Alpha coming from the living room.

 Tony was sitting in a leather armchair, wearing his reading glasses and holding a glass of bourbon in his hand. An open book was on his lap, capturing his attention. The Alpha looked powerful and Peter forgot his despair for a second. The Omega inside of him preened to belong to the other man, to belong to someone strong and educated.

 “Daddy?” Peter whimpered pitifully, naked on his hands and knees and desperate for his Alpha’s attention.

 Tony raised his eyes, focusing on the Omega in front of him. It took merely a second until Tony’s eyes turned black and only one breath for his mood to change. The days close to his heat, his Daddy had been able to hold back, focusing on Peter and the situation, but now that he was fully in heat, the Alpha surrendered to his biology, too.

 “Come here, now.” He ordered, his voice firm and commanding, making Peter’s insides clench in arousal. He wanted his Daddy so bad, would do anything just to get the thick Alpha cock right now. His body was more than ready for this, and he was already dripping on the floor.

 He tried to scramble to his feet, wanting to walk closer to his Daddy, but his attempts were met with a sneer. “Crawl, baby boy. Show me how desperate you are. I want to see you on your knees.”

 Peter whimpered, his arms giving way under him until his chest dropped, and he was laying in the doorway of the living room ass up. His mind screamed at him to present for his Alpha, to be a good little Omega. He didn’t notice the slick anymore that was running down his thighs, he didn’t notice that his mouth had opened slightly, giving the Alpha room to shove in his cock, he didn’t even notice that his hands had moved behind his back to spread his cheeks, opening up for his Alpha to take. He felt as if he would die without his Alpha’s knot.

 His Daddy had gotten up, placed the glass, and the book on the coffee table next to the armchair, and he came closer, standing behind Peter. He didn’t touch him, was just looking, although he was almost feral with the need to claim his baby. Still, Peter knew his Daddy loved him desperate, loved him on his knees, and begging for his cock. He wouldn’t cave until Peter was going crazy.

 “Please.” Peter whimpered, already tearing up, and he turned his head to watch his handsome Alpha.

 Tony was looking down at him like he wanted to ravish him, like he wanted to own him, and Peter couldn’t imagine anything he wanted more at this moment. He wanted the claim of his Alpha, he wanted his mating mark. His whole life was centered around his Daddy, whether that was healthy or not.

 When the Alpha spoke again, his words were forced out. “You have ten seconds to crawl to the couch, Omega, or I’ll take you on the floor.”

 Peter scrambled to motion, the words pushing him to hurry. He crawled as fast as he could, whimpering every second of the way. He knew what a picture he was making, with his ass swaying, and his back arched. He didn’t even do it on purpose anymore, his biology taking over the seduction while his brain had shut down.

 When he touched the couch, Tony was on him, dragging him up until he was properly presenting for his Alpha. His thighs were spread as wide as he could, slick pouring out of him to enchant the Alpha.

 “God, I can’t hold back much longer.” His Daddy growled while he smacked his ass twice. The sensation burned and it was almost enough to make him come. “Am I your first, Omega?”

 The question hurt. Or course, his Daddy was his first. He had saved himself for this exact moment. “Yes, Daddy. Only you. Only ever you. P-please, take me. I’m ready for your knot. I’ve never taken one before, w-waited for you. Just please.” His voice gave up in the end and he wasn’t able to focus on words anymore.

 It was the first time Peter heard his Daddy truly moan. Yes, he had growled before, maybe even a little moan, but it couldn’t be compared to the feral sound he was making now.

 “You are mine.” Tony snarled, burying his teeth in Peter’s left cheek until a red mark appeared on the skin. Peter cried out, pressing his ass closer to his Daddy’s face and trying to beg non-verbally for his Daddy’s knot. He couldn’t stand it any longer, the arousal hurt and the only thing that could make it better was the thick Alpha cock of his Daddy.

 “Did you hear that, Peter?” Tony growled in his ear. “No one will ever see you like I do. No one will see your tight little hole, no one will see how beautiful you cry for me and no one will see what a slut you are for your Daddy’s knot. No one but me. I own your pleasure, I own your first time and I own your heats. I raised you and now I want something in return. You. Are. Mine.”

 Simultaneously with his claim, Tony pushed the first finger into his dripping hole, and it was already too much. Peter came. His whole body was shaking, and he cried, his guts clenching around the single digit while his mind was floating. He didn’t even know if he was coming from his Daddy’s words, from the finger, or the thought of how easy he was for his Alpha, how owned he was. But the waves overpowered him, leaving him gasping and twisting on the couch.

 The orgasm didn’t satisfy him one bit. During his heats, it was never enough and only his Daddy’s knot would be sufficient, but his body tried anyway. He didn’t calm down, even though his Omega cock has dribbled a bit of seed. It was sweet agony, his mind buzzing with endorphins, but he still wanted more, needed more.

 His Alpha groaned. “That was proof, sweetheart. Proof of how easy you are for me. One finger and you already came. I've never heard an omega do so well for his alpha before.”

 The compliment made him bubble with joy. “For you, Daddy.” Peter hiccupped. “I-I wanna be the best Omega for y-you, I-I wanna make you proud.” It was hilarious how important his daddy's opinion was to him.

 “Oh, Baby.” Tony cooed and patted his butt gently before he smacking it firmly again. “I am proud of you. Of your grades, of your help around the house, of your kind-hearted nature and especially of the way you offer me your body. I want to show you off, want every Alpha in the world to see that I’m the luckiest bastard on the planet. Maybe, I’ll change my mind, maybe I want them all to see that you’re Daddy’s pretty little slut. Maybe I wanna claim you in front of them, make them green with envy. There’s nobody else for me, I promise.”

 Peter lit up. He tried so hard to be perfect, studying for hours every day and doing all the chores for his Daddy. It was worth it though, but his Alpha had never told him before that he had noticed all the little things Peter did for him. Being told now that he was perfect, was such an overwhelming feeling that Peter glowed.

 “Can I get a reward, Daddy?” Peter begged, staring over his shoulder at his Daddy with his innocent eyes. “Can I see your knot? Can I take it? Please, Daddy.”

 “Of course, baby.” Tony replied fondly. “Turn around, baby. Let me see you.”

 Peter obeyed eagerly, moving around until he was lying on his back. His Daddy was kneeling over him, still dressed in a suit he wore for work. The urge to touch his Alpha’s skin, to feel him, was making him dizzy and he whined, desperately wanting to speed things up.

 But his Daddy took his time. “Keep your hand behind your back.” The Alpha ordered as he slowly unbuttoned his white shirt. He revealed inches by inches of his muscled chest, and with each passing second, it became harder to resist the impulse to touch the skin. Peter was in heaven. He was lying under his Daddy, and soon he would even get his knot.

 His Daddy stripped everything, and it was the first time that Peter actually saw him naked. He was a vision. His tanned skin was dark in comparison to Peter, his thighs were thick, and his body ripped. He was overall much bigger than the Omega. Peter imagined how his Daddy could protect him, how he could hold him down and force him to take the knot. The thought was maddening, and his biology screamed at him to take the knot right now.

 Peter didn’t know what he’d done in his life to earn this, but his Alpha’s cock was huge. He had already seen it earlier today when he was allowed to taste the tip, but knowing that it would split him open very soon made Peter go crazy.

 He twisted, pressed his ass against the mattress while his hands stayed obediently behind his back. He wanted friction, anything against his dripping hole, but without his hands, he was dependent on his Daddy’s touch. He whined, spreading his legs even wider, trying to coax the Alpha into losing control.

 He didn’t care that he was smearing his slick all over the mattress, didn’t care that his Omega cock was leaking over his stomach. He wanted his Alpha’s cock right now, and with each passing second, it became harder and harder to be good, to not just throw himself at his Daddy and straddle his cock. He didn’t even need his Daddy’s fingers to stretch his hole anymore, his body loosening up due to his heat.

 Tony took his own cock in his hand, the tip aggressively red, and stroked it once. A drop of precome was running down the shaft, dripping down and sinking into the sheets. The Omega inside of him roared. His Alpha shouldn’t lose any come, he should feed it to Peter, either stuff his hole with it or shoot it into his mouth. Wasting a drop of his Alpha’s come felt like betrayal, like failure.

 His Daddy came closer, positioning his cock between his legs, and Peter was convinced he would finally get the thick flesh. His hands left his back, holding his legs against his chest to give the Alpha more room to see where he would split him open. He was waiting for the first thrust, wanting to be forced open and split by the thick cock.

 Surprisingly, the thrust never came. Instead, Peter heard a loud smack and delicious pain spread through his hole. His Alpha had smacked his dripping cunt with his cock and the thought was so obscene that Peter blushed, even though he had lost most of his shame due to his heat. Humiliation and pain mixed with each other, taking him higher until his cunt was leaking with slick.

 The slaps didn’t stop. His Alpha was smacking his wet hole, again and again, the sounds loud in the otherwise quiet living room. Peter was in heaven and hell at the same time. He hated it, hated the obscene sound, the thought of what his Daddy could do to him, how he was denying him his cock, but and the same time, he had never felt better.

 Humiliation spread through his veins, consumed him, while he was forced to listen to the slick sound of his Daddy’s cock slapping against his hole. He cried loudly, begging sounds leaving his lips. His Daddy didn’t rush, keeping the smacks up and gripping his own cock tightly. Peter’s hole was twitched in response, contacting around nothing and begging to be filled by the Alpha’s knot.

 “Look how small your little cock is, baby.” Tony cooed and playfully slapped his cock against Peter’s. He gripped both of their cocks in one hand, Peter’s not even half his size. “God, I love how small you are. Did you dream about this, baby? Dream about your Alpha being so much bigger than you?”

 Peter was too far gone to reply properly. It should have been humiliating to be called out on their size difference, he should even have been hurt, but the truth was that it was turning him on. He couldn’t even hide the reaction, his little cock spilling precome while new slick gushed out of his hole, and according to his Daddy’s growl, he had noticed, too. Peter turned his face and tried to hide.

 “Don’t hide, baby.” His Alpha commanded, grabbing his chin and forcing him to look directly at their cocks. “It’s sweet that you like it so much. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. Just keep spreading your legs and I’ll knot you good and properly, exactly like you deserve.”

 Peter blushed, savoring the tingle that came from the humiliation. The piercing eyes of his Alphas were staring at him, making it impossible to hide what he was feeling. He wanted it. Wanted the knot now and without to, he pressed his legs closer to his chest, presenting his empty hole. He carefully dipped one finger inside, causing more fluid to run down his thighs.

 “Alpha, yours. Forever. I love you.” Peter cried. “But please help me. It hurts.”

 The Alpha lost it. He roared, a feral sound that was echoing through the room and vibrating in his body. Tony was usually so composed, his feelings hidden under his business mask, which he had carefully built up over years of experiences, but the heat of his adoptive son was too much even for him, and he lost control.

 The tip of his Daddy’s cock against his hole was burning hot. It was wet, slippery with precome and slick that was spread everywhere, and Peter cried with relief at the simple touch alone. He had been waiting for this for ages, since his first heat actually. Years had passed with Peter thinking his Daddy would never want him like this, but here they were now, Peter on his back while his Daddy’s cock was pressed against his hole. It was more he had ever dared to dream about.

 Tony entered him in one stroke, and it made Peter scream. His eyes rolled back, his hands clasping the sheets while the huge body of his Alpha was pressing him into the mattress. He didn’t have words to describe the feeling, his hole was stretched around an Alpha cock for the first time, and that it was actually his Daddy’s cock, only made it better.

 This, his Daddy inside him, was what he wanted, what he needed. His body was singing with pleasure, his whole existence focused on the thick cock. He was finally getting what he had craved for so long, finally feeling connected to his Daddy and couldn’t remember ever feeling better, happier.

 He was spasming, his insides clenching around his Daddy, and he let out a loud moan that was filling the entire room. The fire inside his body was burning brighter, spreading through his body, but he was oddly calm regardless. Peter had felt empty for a long time, and now, split open on his Daddy’s cock, he was finally satisfied.

 “Oh god, sweet boy.” Tony groaned, his cock fully embraced by Peter’s body. Although his cock was thick and long, Peter’s Omega body was made to take it, he didn’t even feel pain, just a slight burning that was pushing his arousal to the next level.

 “You are perfect, so wet and hot. I won’t last long, baby.” Tony warned and Peter could already feel the first signs of the knot forming at the base.

 “I don’t care.” Peter whimpered. “Daddy please, more. I need you.”

 Tony groaned, slowly starting to move his hips and thrusting in and out of Peter’s body. His brain was melting, overwhelmed by the various sensations he was experiencing for the first time.

 “That’s it, sweetheart. Do you feel how well I fit? Do you feel how tight you are? You are made for me, made to take me, made to be my sweet little slut. I own you.”

 With every word, his Alphas pelvis slapped against his body, forcing him open for his Daddy to take. Peter could feel the slick gushing out of his body with every thrust and the thought was so obscene, so wholesome, that he started to cry. He was proud of himself, proud that he could satisfy his Alpha.

 “Press your knees against your chest, bend yourself in half for me.” Tony ordered and Peter obeyed, trying to give his Daddy even more room. “That’s it. I wish you could see how I split your open, how beautiful your little cunt is letting me in. It’s so pink, so stretched. Wish you could see how gorgeous you look down there.”

 The Alpha pulled out, his tip nudging against the slick heat without pressing back in. It took Peter a second to understand what was happening, but once he did, he cried out like a wounded animal. The sudden emptiness hurt, and he tried unsuccessfully to press his hips up, to lure his Daddy back in. He became more and more desperate the longer his Daddy was teasing him, and his soft tears turned into heart-breaking sobs.

 “Beg for me, Omega.” Tony ordered hoarse, while his cock was still resting against Peter’s gaping hole.

 Normally, Peter might have been embarrassed, but his heat was driving him insane and he couldn’t stand to be empty any longer.

 “Please, Daddy.” He begged shamelessly. “I’ll do anything, please gimme your knot. I’m your slut, I’ll let you fuck me anywhere, I’ll let you show me off to anyone, just please. I can’t live without you.”

 “Good boy.” The Alpha slammed back in one stroke and Peter’s body was spasming violently with relief.

 Tony picked up his pace. The long slow strokes turned to hard fast ones. He was forcing Peter’s hips up a little more until he finally found Peter’s prostate. The feeling was better than Peter could ever have imagined. His whole body tensed and started to tingle, waves upon waves of pleasure were crushing down his body, taking him under until nothing mattered anymore except the feeling of his Daddy’s thick cock in his body. The world could explode around them and Peter wouldn’t even notice.

 Peter whimpered, not even able to form word anymore and he tried to spread his legs even wider, wanted his Alpha to hit the spot again and again. Oh, and how Tony delivered. He abused his prostate with every stroke, the feelings almost too much, too good.

 Peter didn’t realize that he started to bubble, a stream of words consisting of yes and Daddy and harder. He begged for his Alphas cock, for his seed deep inside his cunt and for his Daddy to never leave him again. He wanted this forever. It didn’t matter if people would judge them, as long as his Daddy would take care of him.

 “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” Tony whispered in his ear, his breath hot against Peter’s skin and the soft words made his insides melt. He loved the possessive part of his Daddy, loved to be called a slut, but sometimes he needed his Alpha’s soft side, too. “I’m going to knot you soon.” HIs Daddy promised and Peter moaned a guttural yes.

 He could feel the knot growing, could feel how it thrust in and out of his body without quite catching the rim yet. It was a blissful sensation that spread him wider and wider until he was convinced that he had reached his limit. But his Daddy didn’t stop.

 “It’s too much, you’re too big.” Peter whimpered, the mixture of pleasure and pain overwhelming. He didn’t really want his Daddy to stop, but he was afraid he would break.

 “Shhh, baby. Relax.” Tony cooed. “Take it for me. Such a good little Omega, so good for me. Take me, take your Alpha, I’m so close.”

 Peter cried out, his body going limb and finally, his Daddy was coming. He felt the hot seed of his Alpha being pumped inside of his body, felt how it was stuffing him until he imagined that his belly began to swell. Tony was moaning, deeply satisfied, like a predator that had caught and claimed his prey. His body was buzzing, proud Alpha smell was filling the room and the scent made Peter dizzy, reminding him that he had been good for his Alpha.

 He was close as well, pride and arousal pushing him higher. When Tony’s knot expanded fully, catching on his rim, and connecting them, Peter came. The tip of his Daddy’s cock was abusing his prostate, merciless rubbing against it, prolonging the feelings, and making Peter twitch in overstimulation. Stars were exploding behind his closed eyes, his whole body floated by the sensation, taking him under until he was drowning in the sensation.

 His orgasm didn’t stop. Every twitch of the Alpha’s tip against his prostate caused new slick gushing out of his hole, squishing around the knot and load upon load of Omega seed was dribbling out of his cock. Peter cried, the feelings were too much, too intense but he couldn’t avoid the thick cock that held him in place.

 “Daddy, I can’t.” Peter screamed, his body twitching uncontrollably.

 Tony smirked for a second, enjoying his helplessness, before he slightly shifted his hips, taking the pressure away from his prostate, and Peter felt onto the sheets completely drained. His vision was blurry, his body taking its time to come back to his senses and the only thing Peter could feel was the knot stuffing him full. His mind was blissfully empty, his body had stopped screaming for a cock for the first time in days.

 A few minutes later, Peter started to smile, the feeling of longing finally satisfied. He knew it would come back very soon, his heat had just begun, but right now, stuffed with his Daddy’s knot, he felt nothing but content.

 “Thank you, baby.” Tony said overwhelmed and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips. “You were amazing, I love you. I would do anything for you.”

 Peter beamed at him, his hands pulling the Alpha closer until they were lying chest to chest. “I love you, too, Daddy. Always.” He promised and the Alpha smiled back like Peter was giving him the world.

 “Someday I want to claim you properly.” Tony declared. “Not now, I want to show you off first, make them accustomed to the thought of you and me together. But when the time comes, I’ll mate you.”

 “Daddy.” Peter said, touched by the sincerity of the words. “I want that. Very much.”

 They smiled at each other, silently enjoying the closeness until the knot started to go down. Seed and slick were gushing out of his body, running down his thighs until the sheets were drenched. Peter blushed, but Tony’s hungry gaze eased the embarrassment. He felt claimed, owned, and he loved it.

 Tony fetched a glass of water and a wet washcloth, cleaning him up before he pulled Peter closer to his chest. They remained quiet for a while, listening to each other’s heartbeat and savoring the silence. It wouldn’t be easy for them, not everybody would accept their relationship, but they didn’t care. As long as they had each other, the trouble wouldn’t matter.

[saluzozette]

TAGrewatch

I am so excited by this rewatch y’all have no idea ! I remember when I first was introduced to the thunderbirds, I was around twelve years old and it was the 2004 movie. I liked it, but as a young french girl, I had no idea there was more to it. Then, when I was nineteen, I visited my mom’s friend in new-zealand and it was dumb luck we ever talked about it. Then he told me there was a show ! And THEN I realised there was going to be a remake ! It was insane ! I was so happy ?!!

I really like that show. It has everything I need, except maybe a lack of everyday life on tracy island but well.

So, as I was watching it the first time around, I wanted to write a series of ficlet. The idea was to write a OS for every episode and take the moment were everything could have gone wrong and well... make everything go wrong ^^’ I really love angst, ok ? 

I only managed to write something for the first seven or something episodes, and then I stoped, but I would be happy to share my writing with you today !

Enjoy !

More under the cut

What could have gone wrong

Episode 1, Ring of fire part 1

Gordon’s POV :

“Ok, folks, I'm almost there.”

Now that I got that weird device which, I’m almost certain, is causing those sea quakes, I can finally focus on what I really came here for in the first place. The rescue. I know I shouldn’t have ooze away like that, but… for a second… For a second I thought I had found my dad. I know I should have focus on the rescue, and then go back and check the device, but I couldn’t… I just couldn’t.

Anyway, now I have that thing, and I’m back into business! Lab’s crew, get ready to be rescued.

“Good news, Thunderbird Four.” Virgil says through the radio, and I can hear the reassurance he’s not telling in his words. He knows how I feel. Hell, they all know. My dad is their dad after all. John and Scott stay silent but even then, it comforts me.

There it is. I can see the lab, the nose of which is seriously pointing down. I’m late. I will have to make it quick.

“Make it quick.” Virgil says as if he could read my mind. “I'm not sure how much longer we can hold on.”

Don’t worry big bro. I’m one of the fastest swimmer on hearth, remember?

“International Rescue!” Comes the lab’s director’s voice. “The control room is flooding! Just get us out of here!”

The panic is clear in the way his words are striving to came out all at once. I have to save those people. I have to.

I’m approaching the lab. Half its legs have fall off. The only thing that is stopping it from going away in the abyss underneath are Thunderbird One and Two’s cables. And by the way the lab is still heading down inch by inch, I can guess that Virgil and Scott are in trouble up there. Only my baby can make it under water. There is no way on hearth her two BIG big sisters could do it. It would ruin their engines.

“Leave the planet for a few hours and the whole world falls apart!”

“Hey, at least it has TV.”

I can’t help but grin at that, half mocking, half relieved. Just hearing my little brother et my sister’s complaints feels good. Alan and Kayo are back on hearth, and safe at home. I know I’m being stupid. I know I’m being overprotective, but I can’t help it. Alan sure is a Hell of an astronaut. He can even be the best, right next to John, for all I know, but I will never ever stop worrying when he and Kayo are up there, out of the atmosphere, out of the planet’s gravity, way out of my reach. I can’t stop worrying. It’s a big brother prerogative. Even if Kayo is in fact older than me.

Ok, Gordon, focus! Those people still need help, Alan don’t. What is up with you today? I come closer. Deployment of the movable arms, check; stabilization of the ‘bird, check. How am I going to get the crew to the surface? Thunderbird Four is a two-passenger’s ‘bird only. I can’t take them all with me. I will have to use the dry tubes.

“All right, here's the plan.” I call into my radio. “I'm cutting my way in from underneath, I'll evacuate the crew in dry tubes. Thunderbird Five, have the crew prepared for immediate evacuation. Everyone cool?”

John silence has always meant “yes”, and Virgil and Scott don’t complain. That makes me smile. I like it when nobody contests my plans. It means that even Mister Bossy and Mister I-always-have-something-to-say above water know that down there, I make the rules. Down there, there is no big or little brother, only me. I’m the Godfather of the oceans.

“Ok, then.” I say, unable to hide the satisfaction in my voice. “Here we go.”

It takes me less than a minute to laser a way in. Now, shall the exciting part begin. Even though I love my ‘bird, I rather be directly into the water. I don’t have a flying ‘bird, it is true. And if I had to fly one of those all by myself, I’m not sure I could do it without entirely destroying it on the way. But it doesn’t matter. Because when I’m diving, I’m flying anyway. Without wings, without engines, and without metal. I’m totally free! Except for the air bottles, ok. But those don’t count.

“Ok, I'm inside.” I say, heading for the entirely over flooded stairs. “Making my way to the crew compartment.”

One, two, three knocks and they open the door. Woah… It’s crowded in here! There are only three crewmen, but there is a whole bunch of stuff floating everywhere. And the erratic movements of the lab are not helping.

“I'm inside the control room.” I call while trying to calm down the crew’s panic. “All hands accounting for. I'll take them out, one at the time.”

“Good news, Thunderbird Four.” Virgil answers, a little stress escaping from his tone. “But hurry. We're hanging on by a thread here.”

I can feel the lab going down and down. Thunderbirds One and Two mustn’t have much room left to fly. The scientists’ director pushes a young lady into my arms. He wants me to help her first. Very well. I lead her down the stairs and through the door. For god’s sake, does she even know how to swim?! I know I’m a good swimmer but why does everybody else have to be bad ones?!

Eventually, I get her aboard my ‘bird and put her into a dry tube. I don’t have much more time.

“You're gonna be ok.” I tell her when she looks at me worryingly. I can’t afford to reassure her further, so I close the tube and send it to the surface. “First dry tube is away.”

Oh, crud… The lab is already half above the abyss. It’s a matter of second now. I don’t lose time saying anything to my brothers and go get another crew member right away. My heart is racing. The cables won’t stand a lot longer.

“One more to go.” I say when the second dry tube is ejected. “I'm going back in.”

Yeah, right, easy to say, much more difficult to do. Everything is moving! How am I supposed to swim faster if heavy metal things I can’t even give a name to are trying to kill me every second?

“The lab is shifting.” I tell my brothers when I reach the control room for the third time. “It's gonna flip any second!”

Honestly, I would have prefered that. Because I’m only able to share a look with the director, when a huge, heavy metal thing (of course!) pounds me against the wall. You know how you used to think that stuff get a lot lighter when you put it underwater? Yes? Well heavy metal things do not do that. They stay heavy. And they crush you.

That thing crushes me. The shock makes my lungs empty, and I just have the time to realize it is water that I am now breathing, before I start drowning. My air bottles have exploded!

***

Scott was having troubles with stabilizing his ‘bird. The lab was falling, and whatever Gordon was doing down there was taking too long.

“The lab's too heavy. It's pulling us both under!” He called to make his brother hurry.

Nobody answered. First, Scott felt irritation. Then, after more than ten very long and very silent seconds, worry started to kick in. What the Hell was Gordon doing?!

“Thunderbird Four, can you read me?” Virgil asked, way more scared than anything else.

Nobody answered.

“Gordon, do you read me?” He repeated.

Nobody answered.

“Gordon!”

And then…

The cables of Thunderbird Two broke. The lab fell even further and Thunderbird One came way too close from the ocean. Scott had no choice. If he kept holding on, he would go underwater. So he let it go. Without seeing it, the two brothers could tell, voices inaudible, and words unspeakable, that the lab had fall all the way into the abyss, along with the last scientist, Thunderbird Four, and Gordon.

“I’m not picking up any sign of life.” John’s voice came through the radio, low and broken. “The lab has exploded, Thunderbird Four as well… There are no survivors.”

Somewhere in the distance, coming from home, they could hear quiet sobs. Alan was crying, fear and despair drowning him, like water had just drown their fallen brother.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Episode 2, Ring of fire part 2

Scott’s POV:

“We have to destroy this dish. I need options, Brains. Fast.”

It's not that I start to feel pressured, but I sure start to feel pressured. If this mission is a failure it isn’t two or three lives that we are going to lose – although it would already be way too much – but possibly more than a hundred! By the Hood’s hands. We can’t allow that. We can’t let this city burn. To tell the truth, failure is not an option.

“Yeah!” My friend answers, showing me a modelization of the solar collector through my 3D projection device. “The primary support arm. Remove that and the entire dish will detach. I'm sending you coordinates now.”

Think fast, Scott. Do you have any other option to save everyone? Forget the electronical way, it doesn’t work. Virgil can’t move the dish manually either, because it would crush the control room. Oh, and those people still need to get out of here by the way. Ok, looks like you have no choice, after all.

“Virgil, get the engineers out.” I call through the radio, already heading for the ladder. “I'm taking out the dish.”

“Are you sure about this?” My brother asks.

He doesn’t like this plan any more than I do. If I cut the dish, not only will my life be in danger, but so will his and the engineers’. But we have no choice, and I know he knows it. The sun is rising, already causing damages to the city. We can’t risk several hundred existences just for the safety of our owns. Not even for the safety of three other people. The city comes first. Besides, I have another argument he can’t complain against.

“It's what Dad would have done.”

Silence in the radio. I’m not sure Virgil agrees with me on this, but at least, he doesn’t say anything. He must know how much I need to be sure I’m doing the right thing. I don’t care if it means putting my own life in danger.

I’m outside again. I don’t lose any more time and start climbing the primary support arm. Somewhere in the background, I can hear Thunderbird Two getting closer to the control room. Once I’m at the base of the dish, I start lazering.

“Virgil, I'm cutting my way through.” I tell my brother, praying for him to be already out with the engineers.

I can hear him talking to them through the radio, but I have no idea where he is. Let’s just hope he has finished rescuing them. The last metal bar gives away. I just have the time to grab the dish before it starts falling.

Ok, now I really need to get out of here. I can finally see my brother. He is hanging on Thunderbird Two’s rescuing seats, next to the three engineers. I knew he could do it! Damn, this thing is falling fast! Come on, Scott, stop thinking or you will be the one needing a rescue. You just have to make this fucking jet pack works.

It doesn’t work…

“The heat must have fried my jet pack!”

***

Virgil was securing his hold on the cable and making sure that the engineers could not fall when he heard his older brother’s cry. His heart froze. What did he mean by “fried jet pack”? Almost too scared to check, the young man took a look anyway. What he saw made him chocked.

“Scott!” He cried to his sibling who could not heard him. “Scott!”

The oldest Tracy was ridiculously small on the dish, compared to the giant Virgil was seeing in his mind. Scott was the oldest of his siblings, but also the strongest, the wisest, the anything-est! He was indestructible! Nothing could happen to him, right?

The dish fell all the way down the hill and Virgil followed it with Thunderbird Two. He didn’t care about the engineers anymore. The only thing he cared about was his brother.

“Scott, do you read me?!” He yelled into his radio when everything subsided.

He didn’t get an answer, but he didn’t really need one, because as soon as he had cried, he had seen what he was looking for. Scott was there, stuck under a huge metal bar, and even without checking, Virgil could tell he was dead. His big brother was dead.

[endae]

|ashes among us| - Part IV

[AO3]

[Part I] [Part II] [Part III] [Part IV] [Part V]

Sequel to Before the Bridges Burn. Dipper & Mabel. Canon Divergence from Weirdmageddon.

“U’m ose siwmys uq sy kov. Rzf oo czg.”

If morning came any softer, he might actually believe that things were starting to return to normal.

But he’ll take this. He will take this.

Saturday mornings always felt like this — and maybe that’s the kicker. Waking up in the attic is becoming an old sight with new meaning. A hundred days before this, the streaming of light through the windows was more burden than blessing, with how late his nights tended to run.

But it’s only this time that he welcomes the light in his eyes. The beams trickle in, and if he concentrates hard enough, at its edges, he can feel autumn starting to bloom.

Third time’s the charm, maybe.

When he first opens his eyes, Mabel’s missing from her own bed. The sheets are drawn back and messy, but the sounds floating up from below the floorboards quell the nerves before they surface (does he still have any left? should he?). The indistinct clanging of pans in the kitchen is a nostalgic comfort. They’re getting ready for breakfast.

That’s right.

It’s still summer, and summer always felt like this.

He must’ve fallen asleep wrong, because the second sign that all is well comes from his arm, tingling beneath his own weight. The third is a patch of drool on his pillow that’s too telling of rare good night’s rest. A noted dryness in his hands. The temptation to fall back asleep. A fourth sign, a fifth.

The last is one that, like most in a sleepy haze, drifts in naively before it truly clicks with him. The muted slam of a car door outside rouses him enough to just barely raise his head from the pillow. But it’s what follows that has him coming to his senses, when he hears it.

The jumpstart of a rickety engine that forces all the feeling back into his body.

And he’s flying out of bed before he knows it.

“Grunkle Stan!”

Grunkle Stan, just a stone-throw’s away from another chance at closure, and he’s running. Renewed dread pools in his gut at the very prospect of being denied this again, and it’s the only drive he needs in the moment.

From their room to the hall, the hall to the bottom of the stairs, the house whizzes past him in blurred motions. Jumping them two-by-two, he stumbles against the wood in the descent, nearly tripping at the bottom of the flight.

From out of the kitchen, the clacking of cookware against the counter jolts him, the voice calling out to him—

“Dipper—!”

Mabel’s. Not Ford’s. He doesn’t spare her a glance. He scarcely acknowledges that he’s even heard her, so fixated on storming the front door and fumbling out onto the porch. Doubled over, he fights just to catch his breath from the burst, panic tempering, but the click of the gear shift doesn’t allow him more than a second’s recovery.

‘No, no, no! Stop!’

The Diablo spits out a stream of smog from its tailpipe, and just like that, he’s running again — not a single sign that his outcries have even been heard. It’s futile, watching him pick up speed to drive off…but he’s not far enough behind that he’s lost this one too, and he clings to that like it’s worth something. He can feel the surge carry him closer.  

He’s running and running and he’s right there, why can’t he see him, why won’t he stop—

Stan doesn’t, but he will.

Because it’s as he takes one step too many that his body’s decidedly set on giving out on him, halting short at the angry waves that tear through his skull.

The searing pain floods him, and his vision goes white.

‘Agh-!’

Like a jackhammer, it overtakes him. Stan’s tires kick up a cloud of dust that covers him like a smoke shield, and he doesn’t stand a chance. Between the thundering in his head and the storm in his lungs, the most he makes out is the hurried footfall behind him, barely. He comes to his senses a little more when a hand slaps against the back of his shoulder.

“Have you lost your mind?! What are you thinking!?”

For a moment, he’s lost. It’s white, endless white, and he falls to his backside if only to keep the dizziness from setting in further. Slowly but surely, the film in his vision subsides, sight returning, and Mabel’s bewildered expression is the first thing to meet him.

It isn’t enough.

“Where is he going?!”

“Well, good morning to you too.”

“Why?” he presses, stealing another look back — down the road, towards town — Stan’s car shrinking in the distance. It’s only when he completely disappears from their line of sight that his eyes dart back to hers, and she claps both her hands to his shoulders to make sure they stay there.

“Hey! What the heck has gotten into you?” she asks, baffled. “Dip you’ve seriously gotta start calming down! It’s fine! Everything’s fine!”

Her tone bites at him, her grip tightening. If she were any less gentle, she’d shake the sense back into him. Half of him wishes she would. His voice of reason kicks in far too late, and it’s beyond him how she still has the patience for this.

But she does, and she still does, despite how much he’s exhausted this. He’s reaching his breaking point, too.

“He went to the high school! There’s some stuff he needs to take care of so we can have the party there.” The edge in her voice falls away, and her hold of him does too, just slightly. “Okay? Breathe. He’ll be back later.”

‘But…’

Why didn’t he stop?

If he’d seen him, would he?

“Right. Party stuff,” he says, flatly. Of course it is. And then, to the latter, self-consciously— “Sorry. ‘Working on that.”

She doesn’t linger on it. He’s all the more grateful.

“‘You remember me saying last night that there’s some stuff to talk about? That was part of it,” she begins, rocking back on her heels to stand up. “Let’s chit-chat over breakfast.”

Without missing a beat, Mabel extends her hand to help him up. He stares at it longer than he should — he only knows that, because he leaves her hanging long enough that her fingers wave in front of him, persistent.

Everything around him still feels fuzzy. There are parts of his brain still trying to catch up with the here and now, and she helps to pull him back into the present.

“Well, c’mon! My Mabel-cakes aren’t gonna eat themselves!”

Reluctant, his hand finally meets hers, and she tugs him to his feet. Maybe a little too fast. He sways when he stands, stars swimming in his eyes, but she doesn’t let go of him until he’s upright on his own. It’s only when she’s certain that she’ll smile at him.

“—But if they did, that’d be super helpful with the clean-up, huh?”

[Read the rest here on AO3!]