#orion's belt one shot

[crystalskiesandcherrywine]

The way you say my name

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x female!Reader

Its pure smut and since its about Feyd, there are some warnings: he is not so gentle. There is desire on both sides and it ends up getting in the praise kink/forced orgasm territory.

Summary: Your planet has brought magic into the galaxy - a source of new spice- and upended the political status quo. You are the sole heiress of your house and the emperor decided that the best way to protect your family's survival is to betroth you to the most enigmatic but violent fighter in the known universe: Na Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen, dangerously seductive and very intrigued by you …

2.203 words

one shot ( for now)

_________

Your whole body was tense, filled with anticipation and nervousness. You noticed your fingers were unconsciously playing with your belt again, and with effort you made yourself refrain from doing so. It was not your first time in the Emperor's court, nor was it your first state reception. Still, it was the first time you had set foot on Kaitain since the new spice was discovered on your planet. Something that had been considered impossible for millennia and that would shake the existing power structures in the Landsraat and the entire known universe. From an insignificant house on a planet beyond Orion, blessed with centuries of stability because of it, your family has been catapulted into a position of a central political player. Your fate, albeit a small piece of a power play against the backdrop the these developments. "Our task is greater than ourselves. Our fears, smaller." The mantra that helped you hold a steady course. You relax your shoulders and notice how your back straightens. 

At that moment, a festively dressed servant entered the room to announce Baron Vladimir Harkonnen and his nephews arrival. Even though you had been prepared for this encounter, the sight was a shock to her. At the first glance he is less imposing then Rabban, who moved into the room like a mountain of muscle and leather uniform. But there is a slow and steady menace in the way he carries himself. His demeanor, both elegant and commanding, reminded you of a marble statue brought to life; his skin almost seemed to illuminate the room, a contrast stark against the dim flicker of torches.

If he had eyebrows, he would certainly have raised one a little crookedly by now. But as it was, his ice-blue eyes suddenly started at you, and you sensed a hardness in his entire demeanor that you weren't used to at home and whose traces you might have felt in her upbringing with Bene Gesserit, but which had always been wrapped in a velvet glove. But power, violence and strength were clear to see in this man. The reason why the Emperor wants to make him your husband - the only one who can apparently guarantee the safety of your planet. He was not used to having to hide his true character. And that is exactly what you would make his downfall.

The formalities dragged on endlessly, time seems to slow down under his gaze. He cannot comprehend you, the strangeness of your features, the luxuriant curls of your hair falling over your shoulders in an elegant half updo, the waves of burgundy silk of your cloak adorning your shoulders, your dress of the same silk and lace - how can anyone appear so vulnerable and exposed? Especially one who holds the key to the most coveted of secrets - a new spice, as powerful as the one exported from Arrakis, but with fewer dangers, Fremen rebellions and more sustainable methods of harvesting. Only this thin fabric separates you from him, something his knife could shred in seconds. He notices that your eyes have left his and are now focused on his hand, gripping the blade at his waist so tightly that his knuckles turn white. He unclenches his hand and offers it to you, bowing slightly. 

"My lady, would you allow me to escort you?"

You place your hand on his and he almost jerks back, surprised by its warmth.

"A mere twist of nature, I tend to forget how shocking it must be to someone not from my home. Our temperature has evolved to be slightly higher than the average, so that when the temperature drops at night, we never fall below a certain threshold".

He listens to you as you walk down the hall towards the banquet room, taking in your voice, the slight swish of your gown on the floor, the click of the delicate gold chains around your neck disappearing into the modest cut of your dress. 

His thoughts oscillate between genuine intrigue with you and your planet, both of which he will soon call his, and a burning desire to test your seemingly obvious fragility, to see how many times he can take you before you beg for mercy, how many bites into your skin will make you whimper, how many slaps on your ass will bring you to your knees regretting whatever misdeed you may have done. You can see his hunger, thinly veiled by manners, and you are sure that he is not accusing you in front of everyone for being in the Emperor's house and not on Giedi Prime. He seems so lost in thought that you have to repeat your question.

"Are you all right, Na Baron? Is something wrong? My conversational skills must be truly dull to bore you so".

He seems to come back to the present, his eyes resting on yours again, the colour of pure blue, like a deep frozen mountain lake. You look down, and just as he finds his voice, the Emperor rises to end the banquet.

"Then I shall bid you good night. If you wish, join me in the botanical garden tomorrow before noon. Perhaps my conversation skills will have improved by then".

He nods and stands to pull out your chair, taking the opportunity to let his fingers slide down your spine through your dress as he moves the chair to the side. He will join you tomorrow alright.

_____

The sun flickers through the canopy of trees above you, leaving a mosaic of shadows on the small, flat cobblestones of the path. You have your hair in a braid that sits like a halo around your head, your arms bare in the sun, dressed in a light linen top and form-fitting trousers that allow for more movement as you tend to the plants. The small patch in front of you is half empty, with small plants dug up. Their purple roots are gnarled and wobbly, while the vines are the darkest shade of green. A tiny bead of sweat clings to your eyebrow, and you pull off your glove to remove it. 

"Is this how my intended likes to spend her time?" His voice behind you, rough and deep. You are startled and drop the glove. He picks it up and holds it out to you, looking straight into your eyes again.

"Thank you. Sometimes I do," you give him an open smile and take the glove back from him, he holds it for a second longer than necessary, seemingly puzzled by your open expression once again. "These plants are from my home, the Emperor tries his best to cultivate them here, but we cannot figure out why they do not develop as they should," you look up at him, his gaze still unmoved from your face.

"Am I boring you again, Na Baron?"

"Not at all," his tongue moves over his lush lips, brushing his cupid's bow.

"Well then, these tiny plants are one of the main factors in the production of the new spice. Their sap is..." You take a small knife from the box beside you and just as you cut into one of the roots, your hand slips and a red streak of blood appears on your left hand. In an instant, a small trail of red drips down your palm and onto the light stones at your feet.

His eye darkens as he grabs your post, ignoring the plant in the flower bed, and brings the injured hand to his lips. A shower passes through you, his tongue brushing your skin, electrifying.

"You should be more careful, my lady." 

His voice almost a growl, his soft and plush lips sucking lightly at your skin, leaving a red mark around them. 

"Yes, I should, Feyd," you are not sure if calling him by his name was a familiarity you allowed yourself too soon, but his reaction proves you wrong. His arms are wrapped around your waist, his face inches from yours. You feel your breath mix, his scent sweet and musky around you.

"Say my name again" There is no politeness to hide his hunger now.

"Feyd..." An almost unbearable exhalation is all you can manage. And with that, he closes the gap between you and descends on your lips, devouring you. His kiss tastes slightly metallic as you taste your blood on his lips, his tongue touching your teeth, demanding entry. You give in, melting into his ministrations, your hands unable to stay still, reaching for his neck, nails digging into the porcelain skin, he almost Monas into the kiss, his hands clawing at your bottom, gripping the flesh in an iron grip. You make a small sound that seems to be all he has been waiting for. Leaving your swollen lips, his attack continues in your jaw and neck, leaving small marks. You feel his arrousal pressing against you and your right hand lets go of his throat and slides over the leather in a rhythmic motion. Before you can think how you can take so much, his size is obvious even fully clothed, he grabs the knife from before and cuts open your top, not bothering with the buttons, leaving your chest exposed to him. His mouth travels to your nipples, his tongue dancing around them before his mouth closes on them and his other hands pinch the other hard. You moan, the pain delicious and unexpected, making you arch even more towards him. He unties the rest of your clothes, leaving you bare to him. A drop of your wetness makes its way from your core along your inner thigh as you melt in his arms. His hand wanders deeper along your hipbones and thighs and as he catches the drop his predatory smile becomes a grin. 

„My lady seems to be enjoying herself... Kneel down".

You obey, the hard floor hurting your knees almost immediately. He pulls his swollen cock out of his trousers and strokes the head along your lips. You open your mouth and begin to lick his shaft with broad strokes, sucking the tip in and letting it fall from your mouth with a wet plop. He watches your every move and pushes a lock of hair that has come loose from your braid out of your face.

"Yes, that's a good girl, keep going."

Spurred on by the praise, you redouble your efforts, disregarding the discomfort of kneeling on the pavement and look up at him to find him completely mesmerised. He cannot believe how willingly you give yourself to him, without reservation. He feels as if he has found something sacred, something so precious and wild that he cannot imagine ever getting enough of it. He steadies your neck and finds his own rhythm, fucking your throat hard, the gurgling sound coming from you like music to his ears, you are struggling for air but he is relentless, filling you with his cum until you swallow every last drop. Your eyes almost in tears, you try to catch your breath, but Feyd has other plans as he helps you to your feet and lays you down on the patch of fresh earth. He spreads your legs and caresses your core. The pain seems to dissolve into a sea of pleasure, leaving you disoriented and greedy, your hands pressing the back of his head into your cunt. He moans in approval, sending more delicious vibrations through your cleat and as his tongue fins you entrance, you lose yourself in the orgasm, chanting his name with more earnestness than any prayer that was ever to leave your lips. 

He looks up at you and just when you think you are going to get a break from his ministrations, he pauses only to strip, his leather overalls falling to the floor and revealing his muscles. He grasps your hips and you spread your legs even wider, giving him an unobstructed view of you and your pulsating cunt.

"So ready to take me, my lady, so ready for my cock to fill you," he smiles, aligning himself with your entrance and thrusting in at once. His cock, thick and throbbing, disappears inside you as you continue to chant his name. He rams into you with abandon, his head touching your wall as his hands wander from your hips to your breasts, kneading them, whipping you into the frenzy of the second high, spasming even harder around his cock. 

"I think you can come again for me, my Na Baroness," he whispers in your ear as he lowers himself over you, one hand loving your breasts to study himself on the floor, the fingers of the other circling your clit. You moan, overstimulated and hot, writhing under his touch.

"I know you can do it," he continues, not slowing down, and he is right as you cum again, this time sending him over the edge, his movements becoming ragged as his seed fills you. As your both breathing calms, you look into his eyes again and you know he is a goner, lost to the magic of your touch and how your desires dance together.

[lets-try-some-writing]

(For your Mr. Pax AU:)

Imagine the kids meeting Elita. It'd be so fragging wholesome XD

It'd more then likely be after the school day, too. Lmao.

It would and I have opted to answer the call for this ask.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

"So kids, how was school?" Elita grinned as the children settled on their platform, spreading out homework and other assignments for the cycle. She regarded their work with interest. It seemed simple enough in her optics, but then again, the human children were very small.

"Oh! You're Elita! Optimus's wife!" Miko shot up, a huge smile on her small squishy face. The urge to reach out and poke one of her cheeks was strong, but Elita refrained. It wouldn't do to go poking the children when it was far safer just to wait until later and do it in holoform.

"I'm his Conjunx, yes." Jack pointedly did not look in her direction. Elita could almost see the way his venting would have sputtered if he were Cybertronian. She may not have been well versed in all things human as of the present moment, but even she could see he looked a moment away from exploding.

"Woah, I didn't know Optimus was married." Rafael added his own commentary, closing his laptop to look up at Elita with wide eyes. She had to fight back an awed noise at how adorable he looked. He was tiny, his glasses only making him look more like a sparkling in her optics. She wanted to poke his cheeks as well, but that would have to wait.

"He's been my Conjunx for a very long time kiddo. Since before he became Prime in fact." Miko and Rafael made awed noises, and even Jack looked up at her in surprise, his embarrassment over the parent-teacher conference forgotten.

"Really? Optimus doesn't seem like the kind of guy to well... do that?" Jack was hesitant in his words, but Elita laughed in short order. She clutched her abdomen as she considered Jack's point of view, all but cackling. Her Conjunx could be quite stern when he wanted to be, especially when stressed. She'd already heard about how Optimus shut down any attempts at being introduced to humor. It was no surprise Jack was startled.

"He wasn't always such a stoic figure. Back when we were young, we got into all sorts of trouble." Resting a servo on her hip as he laughter died down, Elita watched as the children practically lit up at the reveal. Jack was quiet with his interest, but Rafael and Miko were not.

"Optimus in trouble? Oooh this is some blackmail material I need!" Miko did a little dance in place, the plushies on her belt shifting as she did an excited twirl. Elita again had to fight the urge to pick up and cuddle the squishy organic close. It probably wouldn't end well, but she hadn't been able to hold such a small creature since Bee was freshly forged.

"I don't think you can blackmail Prime with stuff that millions of years old." Jack, being so much like Optimus, tried to rain on everyone's parade with logic. Thankfully, his little black raincloud bounced right off Miko and Rafael who were still staring at Elita like she hung the moon.

"Married couples always have wild blackmail!" Miko flailed, throwing her arms up in the air as she grinned. Jack sighed and Rafael secretly adjusted his glasses to try and hide a smile. Elita could feel it right then and there as adoration settled in her spark.

Yes, she was keeping these squishies. She could convince Optimus later.

"I have quite a few stories for you. But only if you promise to not harass Optimus with them. He's got enough going on." Holding up a digit to her derma, Elita smiled as the children each agreed, some more enthusiastically than others.

"We won't bother him. Promise." Rafael's eyes only seemed to be made bigger by his glasses. Elita's spark leapt in its chamber, the cuteness of the scene overriding her usual serious attitude as mischievousness she had long left behind began to resurge.

"Settle down then children. Let me tell you all about Orion's first visit to the docks." Elita could see Optimus out of the corner of her optic looming in the nearby hall. He looked to be mostly uncaring as he waited there, listening in. But she could see the hint of a smile on his features. He wasn't opposed to her decision, giving her all the more reason to tell her tale.

It had been so very long since they'd had anyone who cared enough to hear their story.

[simpingforbots]

What if human ended up in Transfromers one

part 5 final

Megatron

D-16 was sure that Orion Pax was a horrible influence on you. You started getting in to much more trouble – you started sneaking around much more, sometimes joining Orion, running amok the miners quarters, getting all sort of unwanted attention from other bots, even if it was a good one. He was more worried that you will be seen by Darkwing and get killed. He already had enough headache with Orion shenanigans, so he had to create sort of pen for you, filled with soft material he could find, there was food and water. Most of times he would put you in there when ever you misbehaved, even if you brought him Megatronus merchandise, covering his entire charging station in his decals. But mostly he kept you there when ever he had to leave. So imagine his shock to see you sneak in to medbay after the race, running towards him. He wanted to scold you for getting out and was about to yell at you to go back, yet before he could someone’s loud footsteps alerted him and you, sending you in to hiding. After every thing and them being thrown in to 50’th sublevel, he was ready to punch Orion for getting them in this situation when your yells alerted him and he watched you fall out of the shut on conveyer belt. He managed to grab you in time before you would’ve ended up in a fire pit due to you being almost unconscious, alive but shaken. He held you close to his chest, checking on you while trying to process every thing that just happened at once. He was not ready for any thing else.

Well climbing up the trash shut with you clinging to him was not something he expected to happen, it was hard to climb with all the trash falling down. Once they were out and managed to sneak on train, he let out a sigh of relief, but not for long. One thing lead to another and they were stranded on the surface. You were covered in scrapes and bruises making D-16 worry even more, going over the board. If only you stayed in the damn pen non of this would happen to you. He kept you in arms length, literally, holding your hand like some sparkling and when you grew tiered of walking he would carry you under his arm. When they finally reached the spot, revived Alpha Trion and learned the truth about false Prime, about quintessons and what Sentinel – he was angry.  He wanted to kill the false Prime, openly and loudly voicing his concerned, echoing though the cave system as he let all the frustration out.  But when he saw you hiding behind Elita’s ped, his spark broke in half. Why were you scared of him? He did not mean for you to be scared, but before he can try and sooth you, Alpha Trion showed them out and they had to run away from other bot’s, learning how to transform, and all this time you were in danger. He tried to grab you, but the awkwardness of situation was to hard to control and you were momenteraly out of his site, problbay landing on the ground with others. After he managed to transform in to tank, he rolled forward and just in time as one of Sentinels death-guards was about to shoot you. All the rage bubble in him and he shot first, claiming the first life ever. He transform back in to his mech form, rushing towards you scooping up to check on  you. You looked alright, maybe a few more scratches but alright. And somehow you were even smaller. Now he was able to easily wrap just one hand around your torso unlike before, where he had to use both hand just to lift you and you were so small now, no bigger then his leg. He presed you to his chest relieved to see you alive and then took over the leadin of the group. You had to ride on top of him during the return and one thing lead to another and now you were presented as some kind of trophy for false Prime, locked in a gold cage and floating above the ground on a stage pad. D-16 was constantly looking between you and Sentinel, boiling with anger and refusing to stay on his knees, even after being “embraided”. He wanted this bot dead, not matter what. And when he was finally free and Sentinel on the ground, unable to defend him self, he shot, shooting Orion by accident. All sort of emotion flooded in. But one that was strong was exhaustion. He was tiered of constantly saving Orion. He was the reason they were in this situation, he was the reason you were hurt. So he won’t save him any more. He did not care about your cries as Orion fell down, he quickly and painfully dealt with Sentinel, ripping him un half in front of the crowed and claimed his new name – Megatron. And a new T-cog, that gave him even more height. He fired at statues, sending you hiding in some crevice. His red eyes quickly shifted to your hiding spot. Oh, now you decide to hide, after all the trouble you got your self in to? Hilarious. He loudly thumped towards your hiding spot, kneeling down and peaking in all while other caused mayhem around. You were there, deep in the hole, curled and staring at him with wide eyes, shaking from loud noise. He growled with dissatisfaction, immideatly trying his best to get you out of there. His servos dig around, digits trying to wrap around any part pf your body, and after some time he manages to get you out. Primes, you become even smaller, but now he does not care. Or has time as he immideatly get his face punched by rejuvenated Orion. They fight and in the end he is banished from Iacon and you hid behind Prime. Megatron, grumbling walked past him.

“Pet” he looked at you from behind, turning his head slightly so that he can see you, his red eyes glowing brightly. You stood by Optimus. “ come.” You shook your head, to scared to go any wear near the bot who just strated killing bots left and right . it angered him very much. He turned around, rage boiling in his chest as his loud voice echoed though entire Iacon “NOW!” You jumped in your skin, hiding behind Optimus. He left with a grumble and a promise that he will come back for you.

[swarvey]

screaming over paper rings. stardew and taylor swift?? PEAK ‼️ so, in a similar vein, i have a lil request

could you possibly write a one-shot with any taylor swift song of your choosing? i'd like for it to be x sebastian but i know he's not one of your favorites, so if that's uncomfortable i'd be down with haley. either is fine, i would just love to see what you'd come up with! your writing is wonderful, and i can't wait to see what else you write <3

- 🪩

when you've moved on | sebastian x gn!reader | part one

summary -> you're with alex now, but is he really the one you want? warnings -> none! seb smokes a cig and there's some swearing, that's ab it. just angst. heh. word count -> 1817

a/n: ahhh ty disco anon!! i'm glad you're liking the taylor/stardew crossover as much as i do <3 decided to do my take on the trope where they watch you move on with someone else in town, enjoy!!

part two -> elliott (tolerate it)

the way i loved you ->"but i miss screaming and crying and kissing in the rain."

"seb."

"hm?"

"see that?" you point up to the stars, eyes wide and bright. "that's orion's belt. if you look close enough, you can see his whole body."

raising a brow, sebastian squints up at the sky, noticing the three, shining stars all in a row next to each other.

"huh. guess you're right," he says, smiling lightly at your excitement at the stars.

you'd been ecstatic when he offered to take you stargazing, riding out to the spot where he'd kissed you for the first time. the picnic blanket beneath the two of you is soft, and although the evening spring wind is chilly, seb feels warm enough to fall asleep with your head resting on his shoulder.

"we should do this more often," you sigh happily, grabbing onto his arm and pulling him closer to your side.

he kisses the top of your head gently, closing his eyes. "whatever you want, sweetheart."

"seb?"

"yeah?" he responds, keeping his eyes closed.

"seb!"

"what?"

"sebastian, wake up!"

sebastian wakes with a start at the sound of his mother shouting, groaning as he sits up reluctantly.

scratching his head and yawning, he asks, "what time is it?"

"nearly eight-thirty, seb, you said you'd be up by eight," robin chides. "come on, we're going to be late for the festival."

he scowls. he's tempted to lay back down and cover his head with his blankets again, but he would rather not deal with more of his mom's antics.

"fine. i'll be up in a minute." as she heads back upstairs, sebastian groggily pulls on some warm clothing, trying to ignore the stinging in his heart. why, why was he still dreaming about you? he knows you've moved on, so why has he been cursed to see you every night? sometimes, he wakes up and forgets you're not his anymore, forgets about the fight you two had, forgets the sharp, hurtful words that came out of his mouth he didn't mean at all.

he'll never forget, though, the words you said back to him, an unforgiving amount of hurt and anger in your eyes as rain poured down on the two of you.

"i'm done with this, seb," you'd said, voice shaking and weak from arguing with him. "i've given you enough chances to prove me wrong, to show you actually care about me, but i guess i was wrong. i can't do whatever this is any longer."

then, you'd walked away, leaving him alone in the downpour in front of his house.

how could he have been so stupid? no one in his life has ever known him better than you did, and he still let you slip from his grasp. what an idiot, he thinks, scoffing at himself as he makes his way upstairs and joins his family.

though, as they enter the festival of ice, seb immediately regrets not staying in bed.

you laugh as alex pulls your winter hat over your face, grabbing a handful of snow and throwing it at him in retaliation. haley rolls her eyes as she stands to the side, annoyed as she pulls out her phone and begins absentmindedly scrolling. meanwhile, alex starts to chase you, grabbing you from behind and hugging you tightly before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

seb looks away. he thinks he might gag.

"hey, seb! you made it!" his blond-haired friend runs up to him like an excited kid, snow already scattered in his hair. "geez, did you just wake up or something? you look kinda rough, buddy."

"thanks," he replies flatly.

sam scratches the back of his neck, flashing an apologetic smile. "sorry, didn't mean to tick you off. come on, abby's waiting over there!"

sebastian keeps his gaze on the trees as he follows his friend, trying his best to tune out the sound of your laughter he once craved to hear. how did you end up with a douche like alex, anyway? he never understands why sam speaks so highly of him, and now you go off and date him?

"helloooo," abigail sings, waving a hand in front of his face.

"oh, hey," he greets, blinking out of his thoughts. "sorry, i'm still waking up."

she raises a brow, studying his face. "right. had another nightmare?"

"i guess you could call it that."

abby shakes her head, crossing her arms. "i'm telling you, sebastian, if you would just listen to me and move on, life will start to be much nicer to you."

"i have moved on," he snaps, though quickly sighs when he sees the knowing look she gives sam. "i'm sorry, really, but i'm fine. i promise."

"if you say so," she says, her tone unbelieving. he can't blame her for being worried — abby was the one who was most concerned about him after the two of you broke up, knowing how much he'd cared for you.

or, more accurately, how much he still cares for you.

"how about we go check on vincent?" sam suggests, obviously trying to lighten the mood. "the little guy was super excited for today."

as the three make their way over to find sam's younger brother, seb finds his eyes wandering over to you once again, unable to keep himself from checking on you. to his surprise, your eyes meet his for a split second, only for you to jump slightly and turn back to alex and haley.

did you miss him, too?

after the festival ends, sebastian finds himself lingering around a little longer, telling his friends and family that he'll catch up with them later. he walks over to the river, listening to the comforting sound of running water as he pulls out a cigarette and his lighter.

"i thought you quit?"

he whips his head around at the sound of your voice, nearly dropping the items in his hand into the water.

"i did," he replies after a moment, continuing to light the cigarette. "just felt like i needed one right now."

you wordlessly walk closer and stand beside him. he can feel your eyes burning into his face.

"well, how have you been?" you ask, rubbing your arm. "i heard you . . . haven't been sleeping well."

he huffs. "what, did alex tell you?" i told sam to keep his mouth shut.

"does it matter?" he doesn't have to look at you to know you're frowning. "it's been nearly a year, you can't let this keep dragging you down, seb."

he ignores the painful twinge in his chest at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. seb. sure, almost everyone tends to use that nickname for him, but it just sounds so right coming from you. it used to make his heart warm every time he heard it, no matter the place or time; while doing chores, eating dinner, in bed.

even now, when you aren't his anymore, a part of him is glad to hear you still say it with the same tone.

"as i've been telling everyone else," he says after blowing smoke out from his lips, "i'm fine. there's no need for you to worry about me anymore, anyways — you got mr. pro over there to care for now."

"don't talk about him," you snap, a sudden defensiveness coming over your voice. "you don't get to bring him up."

seb scoffs, finally turning to look at you. god, you look just as breathtaking as he left you, snowflakes glittering on top of your hair and eyelashes. there's a certain glint in your eye he doesn't recognize, though, and he decides to test it.

"why?" he questions carelessly. "are you scared i'll be too honest with you?"

"what? i—"

"well that's too bad, sweetheart," he interrupts, his old nickname for you filled with an unfamiliar venom. "i'll be truthful with you, just like i always have been. i wasn't perfect with you, not at all — i ignored you and hurt you, over and over until you got sick of it and left, so i know i could've treated you better."

he sees your eyes begin to water, and for a moment, guilt overcomes him, but he goes on anyway.

"but there's one other thing i know," he continues, taking a step closer to you. he points behind him in the direction of the town. "you and him? you'll never love each other like we did. sure, we had our fuck-ups and arguments, but i have never loved someone like i did with you, and i know you feel the same."

"you don't know anything," you whisper, though the confidence you had before has vanished.

he huffs a sarcastic laugh. "really? you sure about that? tell me, does he know you always sleep in every saturday, since you're in the mines until late on fridays? or how you always go to the saloon, just to play your favorite song on the jukebox?" he pauses. "i bet he doesn't know anything about the stars, does he? have you even asked him to look at them with you?"

"stop!" you demand, fists clenched tightly as you give him the same look you had when you left him. "this is different, okay? alex and i are taking our time, so neither of us ends up making stupid mistakes like we did."

"as stupid as they were, that's what i liked about us," seb says, his voice a level gentler than it was before. "we weren't perfect, but we didn't pretend to be. it's what made us so real." he shakes his head, lifting his cigarette to his mouth. "but if you want to go live your high school daydream, then by all means, go ahead."

you scowl. "you know, i came here to check in on you, but i see now that you're as helpless as you were when i broke up with you."

he winces slightly at your harsh words, but remains stoic nonetheless. "go ahead and think whatever you want, sweetheart, but i think one of us is clearly more helpless than the other."

"fuck off, seb. get over yourself."

as you start to walk away, he turns to look at you once more, watching as you hesitate.

"i wanted us to work," you say quietly, void of any hostility. "i tried so hard, but you made it impossible."

"would you do it again?"

the question is slipping out of his mouth before he even realizes it, but he can't take it back now. he expects you to turn around, to storm at him and laugh at how he can even think that.

instead, you leave him with no response, hugging yourself with your arms as you head back towards your farm.

interesting. he throws his cigarette down into the dirt beneath him, putting it out with the heel of his shoe. he wonders why you didn't say anything.

that night, for the first time in weeks, sebastian doesn't dream.

[littlelightbolt]

TF ONE:

That one cave scene after they see the betrayal first hand has me thinking.

Did Alpha trion just have bad judgement?????

Alpha trion ngl is a little double standard here tho I think in the movie. He truly was the key factor in how events unfolded.

Like his brothers and sister were murdered AND their planet is NOW under slavery as he seen from the gang's appearance so understandably he wants to kill sentinel.

That's why he was silent when Megs was all I WANNA KILL HIM.

He willingly chose to give megs a t-cog giving them all access to WEAPONS to achieve their perceived goal.

Even if they themselves didn't know their potential at the time.

Was that intentional by Alpha?????? I think yess totally. Who's best interest was prioritised tho.

In the beginning, Megs was alpha T's champion. Was this a reluctant decision I dk.

By the end of movie, Meg's DOES kill sentinel. He's achieved Alpha's objective.

But Orion accidentally being collateral gets him in the good graces of Alpha trion???? - becomes prime. If my train of thought is somewhat true, Like Alpha wanted to kill sentinel too, what do you meannn show mercy and you get prize. I can see why Megs would be pissed.

Did Megs feel he was fooled by Alpha?? Being fooled into loosing his best friend. Mabye that why he Soo angry?? Orion fr was too passive.

I wished his dialogue would have been more challenging to D-16's. That would have been great dialogue mabye, we would be able to see the push and pull CLEARLY between them. Their inner turmoils, their inner thoughts - What the stunned silence can't show us. does show how they feel but for the audience we don't benefit much other then seeing this as an OH shit Moment.

At the end of things, Alpha is winning out. Alpha is getting his main goal achieved, getting the trash out (sentinel) so his people can deal with the Quints (the bigger problem) instead.

What I'm trying to ask is How MUCH did Alpha know about the events of past and future in this universe. - as a prime he has powers but to what extent. Did he have his covenant???

Now Orion is his champion going into the future.

This brings into question their planetary war-like culture.

Alpha is no stranger to death and violence. As, it is already implied that the primes of old were battle trained. Their main way of dealing with things is through conflict. They are at war with the Quints.

Alpha saw them as a means to the end, it's just unfortunate that they will eventually bring the planet that alpha entrusted to them to ruins.

With the first gen of TFs being like that, does that mean that all other TFs that emerge from vector sigma or however their sparks are ignited later were made to have battle protocols inbedded to their programming????

Cause my one gripe with the movie is kinda they blurred the lines of violence.

I was like wth they suddenly have black belts in combat??????? SINCE when did they learn???

Self defense, okay... But still a weak answer.

Bee and elita have literally killed/ SHOT mech's DEAD. Orion has bashed the heads in of multiple officers or high guard. And yet he was like noooooo don't kill sentinel.

Guess hindsight really is a bitch to people huh, he made his stance too late. Beautifully TRAGIC.

It just seemed very shallow. Like killing lowly henchmen is OKaY but now it comes to a figurehead and be like NOoOOOOO don kill.

I don think Orion had a chance to clearly understand or see what Sentinel had physically done to Megs. (That permanent scar)

When I watched to movie, I was sooo confused honestly about the whiplash turnaround between them.

But now, I think I have a better understanding of Megs fr fr. OP being the dreamer just sadly couldn't dream for the both of them.😢😢

[hgejfmw-hgejhsf]

Whump Wednesday

So as most of you know, words have...not been coming easily for me lately. In fact, words have not been coming at all lately. There's some stuff I've been dealing with offline that has contributed to my muse's disappearance, and truth be told, I've been a bit afraid of writing, thinking that perhaps my muse has up and gone forever and I just simply will never write again.

But then @thinkof-england shared with me her idea of taking on Whump Wednesday via a virtual spinning wheel, and she encouraged me to give it a shot with her, as perhaps just an exercise in getting back to writing again. So tonight, for the first time, we allowed the wheel to guide us...and the prompt we received was TW: amputation. What the hell was I meant to do with that, as my FIRST WHUMP PROMPT out of the gate?!

I said, "I'm going to try to just do a drabble. Just 100 words, that's all, no big thing. Surely the muse can make that happen." And then once the idea came, she managed a staggering 500 words. I have NO idea if these words are good or not, but they are mine, and they're 500 words more than I had when I woke up this morning. So behind the cut you'll find a small pentadrabble zombie FirstPrince AU featuring TW: blood, pain, mention of zombies, and implied amputation without anesthesia or proper medical care.

Please be kind. If this doesn't sound like your thing, please keep scrolling right on by. It won't hurt me in the slightest. What will hurt me are unkind words.

A strangled cry rips itself free of Henry’s lungs as Cash carries him inside the farmhouse and places him gently on the couch. Despite the proof of his immense pain dripping from his golden hair and written in every tense, taut line of his face, he buries the sleeve of his shirt into his mouth to stifle the sound. Ever their protector.

Alex produces a knife and cuts away the blood-soaked denim concealing his twisted and torn skin. Jagged holes from the rotting teeth of the undead fucker that attacked his husband continue to pour blood, already beginning to soak the floral fabric on the couch where he and Henry had once made love, long after everyone else had fallen asleep upstairs. Alex can still hear the soft laughter ringing out in the dead of night from Henry’s parted pink lips when he teasingly asked if they needed to seek out one of those ancient plastic covers. He blanches at the thought now.

But it’s the draining of blood from beneath Henry’s already pale skin that comes back into sharp focus as the hulking shadow that can only be Cash reappears over his shoulder. Alex, having no idea he’d left at all, turns to find a handsaw, a belt, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol bundled in Cash’s arms. His lips are a thin line as he kneels by the couch and rolls up his sleeves, until Alex stills his motions with a hand over his.

“I’ll do it,” Alex says softly, his voice a weak croak of a sound. He coughs, as if something as simple as the pollen count could be responsible for the paralysis of his vocal cords. He turns to Henry, then, whose blue eyes are bright with fear and pain and knowing, always just a step ahead of Alex despite his perpetual attempts at running as far ahead as he can into the future, to prepare a way for them. Henry’s never had to run. He’s always simply gazed up at the night sky in silence, as if the great hunter in the heavens is whispering and he’s the only one who can hear. Or perhaps it isn’t Orion at all, but a guardian angel.

Why then, Alex wonders, if Henry’s gift is knowledge, and if there’s some all-knowing being keeping watch over him from just beyond the stars, could something like this be happening to him?

“I trust you,” Henry says, his teeth clenched tight as he places a blood-soaked hand over Alex’s to still a trembling he hadn’t yet noticed. Henry’s golden wedding band glimmers in the dusk of another dying day, surprisingly free of the scarlet liquid still flowing freely from his wounded leg.

Alex’s lungs refuse to inflate when he draws air into them, and the minute contents of his stomach churn with the task he’s about to face, but he secures the belt tightly just above the wound, rests one hand on Henry’s knee for stability and support, and begins.

[sleepyspudbrainrot]

Patience (Cody x OC x Jey)

Cody Rhodes x OC x Jey Uso | 18+, fluff, drug use | 1591 words

Had inspiration to write a bit of Cody Rhodes and Jey Uso fluff based on a prompt my friend had picked out for me ages ago. Hope y'all enjoy this little one shot !

“Everything looks so beautiful from up here…”

Calista sat on the edge of the rooftop, legs dangling into the open air below.  Normally, she was not one for heights, however the need to get away from the crowded rooms beneath had overridden her fears.  She let herself focus on the horizon, the buildings that pierced the sky, the lights that shone from in between.  It was quiet, peaceful, and she was completely alone with her thoughts.  Which were much harder to get away from. She sighed softly, leaning back, hands scraping on the textured cement of the roof behind her.  Her gaze trailed up and up, following the lines of the buildings around her until all she could see was the starry sky.  Each star lead her to another.  Each star a smaller piece of a larger constellation.  She’d only seen two that she could name, the big dipper and orion’s belt.  However, she was certain there were more to find than that.

“Is this seat taken?”

A rough, male voice broke through the dull hum of the streets beneath them.  A voice that she didn’t quite recognize without a face.  “Depends on who you are?”  The only response she got from the unknown male behind her was a low chuckle, before he entered the periphery of her vision.  Shocking blonde hair, the garish tattoo on the side of his neck.  This unknown male was none other than Cody Rhodes. “How on earth did you sneak out of all of that?”  She turned her head, an eyebrow raised.  The party down below was for the man sitting to her left.  He’d just won tag team gold with Jey Uso and had every reason to celebrate.  And very few reason’s to hide away on the roof.

“Told them I was going for a smoke… or was it that I was looking for a bathroom… either way, I don’t think they’ll think too much of it?”

Calista smiled, shaking her head.  “You’re one half of the main reason they’re celebrating… also is it really a good idea to leave Jey down there? He was…” 

Cody interrupted her with a chuckle, “Already pretty far gone when we got here?” She nodded, turning to look at Cody as he spoke.  “He was flirting with one of your friends I think… they’d been asking if he’d seen her and he was quick to distract.  Almost like…”

“He knew that I’d needed some air?”  

It was Cody’s turn to nod in agreement.  “I might’ve passed him on the way out and let him know.  He knows how I feel about crowds.” She shrugged, turning to look at the horizon once more.  The buzz from beneath them had faded to a dull vibration that she could only really hear if she was listening for it.  And even then, noise from the party had a tendency to drown anything else out as it filtered upwards from the floors below.  “I don’t want you to miss out on the celebrations for me.”

Cody raised an eyebrow, shifting on the ledge, hip brushing against her own as he did so.  “You’re the one who suggested we team up… if anyone should be celebrating with us, it’s you.”  Her expression softened, cheeks glowing in the faint light of the moon.  “Am I wrong?”

She shrugged, “You would’ve won regardless.  Creative has been loving you lately.  Whether you’d been paired with Jey or Kevin or… hell even if they’d dragged me out as a “special guest”, not that they would…” The idea is ludicrous, given that she has zero experience in the ring.  She’s more of a glorified consultant for creative these days more than anything else.  “Your win was practically guaranteed.  Having Jey as your partner is just an added bonus.  Which…” She glances over her shoulder, almost wonder if Jey is listening behind the door.  “I really hope he’s not listening to this but… it’s a good look for you both.  Makes the crowds love y’all even more.”

She had to force herself not to look at Cody for a reaction, to not overthink the expression of appreciation and the hint of surprise that seemed to settle over him.  Silence claimed the space between them, punctuated with little more than the occasional cheer from the party beneath them or an occasional car horn that managed to make it’s way all the way up to them.  She could’ve spent all night like this.  In a comfortable silent understanding with the man beside her.  At some point, he’d reached behind her, hand curling around her shoulder to pull her close.  The gesture alone was enough to flood her cheeks with color that she could only pray that he didn’t see.

“Hope that’s alright…” Cody looked down at her, his freehand coming up to brush the hair from her face.  “You looked… a little cold?”  A flimsy excuse, that both of them could see right through.  However, while the gesture was unexpected, she couldn’t say that she wasn’t enjoying the closeness. 

“Jey told you to come find me didn’t he…”

The thought had been tugging at the back of her mind since he’d sat beside her.  The knowledge that Jey knew of her admiration for the “American Nightmare” that she’d been content to keep to herself.  At least, until he’d noticed it.  He’d been teasing her for weeks, so it made sense that he’d finally decided to give them both the push that he felt she needed.  

“He did, said something about making sure that girl doesn’t freeze to death, you feel me dawg.”

A loud thud from the rooftop door punctuated his statement as Jey Uso himself stumbled out from the stairwell.  “Come on Uces! You’re missing out on - -”  It was as if the closeness of the pair in front of him hadn’t registered, until it did.  “Ah shit dawg, why didn’t you tell me you found her.  I’m interrupting and everything…”  A laugh escaped Calista, her free hand flying up to cover her mouth as her shoulders shook against Cody’s chest.

“What’s so funny Uces? We’re here to celebrate our man over here and he’s wrapped up in you… You havin’ your own private celebration? Without me?”  It was as if the idea was so outlandish, Jey’s gaze flicking between the pair.  “Alright, make some room you two.  Can’t let y’all have all the fun… plus I grabbed some party favors!” He settled on the edge of the roof to Calista’s right, effectively wedging her between them both.  The party favor’s in question were fished from his pockets, two joints and a flask of some unidentified liquor.

“I’ll pass on the flask but… pass one of those over here?”

The joints were passed to Calista first, allowing her to light one and take the first satisfying hit.  The smoke filled her lungs with a comfortable burn that had her eyes fluttering closed.  She then blew it out into the night, letting the tendrils float away on a breeze.  The joint was passed to Cody now, leaving Calista to lean on Jey.  Jey who’d thrown an arm around her waist to compliment the arm around her shoulder from Cody.  

“I swear, you two…” She rested her head on Jey’s shoulder now.  “You’ve been planning this.  Getting me alone… keeping me all to yourselves…”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that ma.” 

Calista glanced up at Jey who was grinning down at her.  His grill glinting in the moonlight, as his gaze settled on hers.  “Not our fault you’ve been ignorin’ the signs for the last month.”  

She blinked at Jey, her gaze flitting between him and Cody as she sat up straight.  “Signs…?” 

It was Cody’s turn to grin at her now, smoke seeping from in between his teeth. “The compliments, the flirting, creative calling you in to work specifically with the two of us?”

“But I thought…?”  If she was being honest with herself, she wasn’t sure what she thought.  She’d just thought her input was needed, given how close she was to the storylines, to Jey.  She’d begun to get close to Cody over the last week or so, but she’d thought that was normal.  There was a certain level of trust and closeness expected when you were choreographing matches and spending late nights tweaking the individual pieces to make sure everything flowed the way it needed to.

“Told you Uce, I knew she wasn’t pickin’ up what we were puttin’ down.”

Cody shook his head, “Hate to admit man… guess we’re doing a shit job of showing her how we’ve been feeling.” 

Once again Calista was speechless, blinking as she glanced at the men on either side of her.  “I’m.. sorry? What have I --”

Cody leaned forward, grabbing her left hand and threading their fingers together.  Jey was doing the same with her right hand.  Both hands were calloused and held strength that she could feel despite the tender gesture. The gesture was enough to put together the puzzle pieces they’d been dropping for her.  They had been flirting with her.  Had been complimenting her.  They’d asked her out to dinner and she’d invited others to join them thinking that they were friend dinners.  The gears in her mind were moving, working and finally she got it.

“How on earth have you been this patient for so long…”

Both men laughed, their amusement shaking their shoulders, even as they held Calista close. “Because there’s a certain amount of patience involved for things that are worth it… isn’t that something you’ve always said?” 

[dyrewrites]

Friday Kiss Tag - on a Saturday

@the-golden-comet shared this thing over here and left it open so I am doing this again.

Leaving this one OPEN, for anyone else to add their smooches--or just share their writing.

Rules: From your Story/WIP, share a kiss. It can be any kiss—from familial pecks on the cheek, forehead kisses, platonic smooches, to full-blown makeouts. Spread the love! ❤️

Rules: Share a snippet of your writing!

From "Before Deluca" wherein someone makes a scene.

--

Sea spray, he smelled of saltwater and something else...dirt, flowers? It mesmerized whatever it was—I would reconsider when I learned—and he caught me sniffing him. Face flushing with the grin he gave, and more times in an hour than it had all that year; I hurried to my room for my bag.

He insisted on taking it as I returned, though he waited for me to open the door, and smiled at my confusion when he grabbed the parasol hung beside it. Powder blue—like his jacket, coat and breeches, all embroidered in white floral designs too familiar—it was opened and held firm above him as we left my home.

No rain, or clouds, greeted us outside the door and I smiled with the warmth of the day...and the realization—or so I thought.

“Worried of your complexion, Lucient?” I asked him.

He swooned before answering, “Say it again and I will make certain everyone here knows your secret.” Confusion must have twisted my face again as when he looked at me, he scoffed and set my bag down, “The parasol is for my skin, yes, but those delicious lips of yours speak my name too sweetly,” stepping closer, head titled up too near my face, he drew a few eyes from the morning crowds and kept his voice low, “say it again and I will make a scene.”

What did I care? He already made a scene with my parents, and most of whom busied about then likely knew before they did. Beside that he was so close already, with those bright eyes and soft lips, that I couldn’t help myself.

“Is that a promise, Lucient,” The name barely left my lips before his replaced it.

There were gasps from the people around us, a few muttered curses as well, but also a rather boisterous shout of, “Benissimo, Vicki!” that I appreciated.

No one stopped us, or bothered us, as we lost ourselves. I took his chill face in my hands, sinking deeper into his kiss as he swooned for my warmth, his free hand grasping at my belt. Then his parasol drooped, blinding me with a sudden beam of sunlight, but it did more to him. He gasped, fearful and sharp, and pulled away from me.

His face smoothed quickly after, creasing only to smirk and scold me, “Chose coquine,” and as he continued toward the docks, he shot back, “For that, you can carry your own bag.”

Not entirely certain of what I had done, my bag was an easy thing to carry and I chased him with it slung over my shoulder...wondering what the sunlight had done.

--

Full Chapters Here (until the end of the month)

→Before Deluca Taglist<-

// feel free to ask to be added or removed ^.- //

@watermeezer @starbuds-and-rosedust @thespacelizard

@your-absent-father @mr-orion @cowboybrunch @olliexwrites

@rowanmgrey-author @the-golden-comet @wyked-ao3 @leahnardo-da-veggie

@lychhiker-writes @aziz-reads @mthollowell-writes

[eclipse89]

i'm guessing most of you know what the constellation orion is. and i'm guessing most of you picture it like this

a pretty basic constellation. a few of you may know that the middle "star" in the sword is actually the orion nebula, or that betelgeuse is the orange star at the top and may go supernova sometime in the near future

yet there is so much more in this constellation than what your eyes can see, even from the darkest sky.

this is what orion 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 looks like, with all of its innumerable and insanely vibrant nebulosity!

now onto some highlights:

firstly, the great orion nebula of course (along with its smaller twin, the running man nebula on the left) [image by Vishva Patel]

and here's a closeup: hubble's majestic shot of it taken in 2004-2005

the next main attraction here is a double viewing:

the flame nebula and the horsehead nebula, both next to the star alnitak. the flame is the brighter of the two, while the horsehead is mostly an H-alpha object

another hubble close up, the horsehead in infrared, taken in 2013

these three make up the main bright nebulae of orion, but there's still more faint stuff to be seen

namely, barnards loop; the large H-alpha emission surrounding orion's belt and sword

and secondly, the lambda orionis ring:

a large molecular cloud, also seen mostly in H-alpha

before we leave, there's one more sight to see slightly outside of the formal constellation itself

the very faint but incredibly beautiful witch head nebula!

coming to a close, i hope this post gave some insight onto just how much awesome stuff there can be in an otherwise innocuous patch of sky.

our universe is just full to the brim with really cool stuff everywhere

[rosanna-writer]

rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky

Summary: Five times Rhys and Feyre stared at the stars (and one time they painted their own). Warnings: None Rating: General Audiences Word Count: ~2.2k

This is for @star-captain, my bonus giftee for @acotargiftexchange! I had a lot of fun writing some Feysand stargazing fluff for the fandom's resident astrobiologist <3

And again, a HUGE thank you to the event organizers for all their work putting this together!

You can find it Here on AO3 or under the cut!

Taking girls stargazing worked every time. Rhysand had made countless exes melt over how romantic it was to sit out under the stars, especially when there was just enough of a chill in the night air that they'd cuddle closer as he pointed out constellations one by one.

He should have known it wouldn't work on Feyre.

Really, it had seemed like a miracle that she'd even agreed to go out with him in the first place—Rhys had never met anyone so dead-set on calling him a prick. For a long time, the blush that stained her freckled cheeks every time he'd purred Feyre darling seemed like the most he'd ever get.

But on the drive out to a park far enough from the city to see the stars properly, the conversation had flowed easily between them. Rhys had itched to put his hand on her thigh as she she'd adjusted the radio and jokingly criticized his taste in music the whole way.

Now she'd settled in a camping chair, a light blanket around her shoulders and a thermos of coffee in hand, her head tilted back to look at the sky. Feyre was the most beautiful woman Rhys had ever seen, but somehow, she looked even better in the moonlight, and he was tempted to spend the whole night staring at her and not the stars they'd come to see.

And Rhys suspected if he spent hours just gawking at her, there wouldn't be a second date.

He settled into the chair next to her and started with the same routine he always used when he took someone stargazing. "We're facing north. That bright star directly in front of us is Polaris—"

"I know. And the Big Dipper is right there," Feyre said pointing.

So she'd done this before, then. Rhys relaxed, glad that he wouldn't spend half the night mapping out the basics of the night sky. He would have done it gladly for Feyre, but there were better ways to spend a rare perfectly clear night providing a tutorial.

"Which is your favorite?"

As she started telling him about Orion's belt Feyre's smile was bright enough to light up the entire night. Rhys hung on her every word, memorizing exactly why she'd always loved the hunter, because there was nothing that seemed more important than knowing her inside and out.

By the end of the night, Rhys was sure he was going to marry her some day.

***

Feyre woke to the feather-light brush of Rhys's fingers in her hair. Making a low noise in the back of her throat, she buried her face deeper into the pillow. He chuckled, sweeping his thumb along her cheek.

"I know the bed is comfortable, but I promise the surprise is worth waking up for," he said softly.

Feyre cracked open one blue-grey eye. "There's a surprise?"

"When it's your birthday and the longest night of the year? Of course."

Feyre sat up slowly, pulling the quilt with her. She blinked at Rhys owlishly, taking in the layers he was dressed in. Only an hour before, he'd been in bed with her, wearing nothing at all. "Are we…going somewhere?"

"Yes, stargazing. So bundle up."

Feyre shot out of bed like a cannonball and dug out one of Rhys's sweatshirts from the closet. "I didn't think you'd want to go," she said, shrugging it on over her t-shirt.

"Last year, you said no one would go on your birthday because December was too cold."

"You remembered that?"

Rhys wasn't sure he could have forgotten—she'd looked so heartbroken over something easily remedied by a good coat, thick socks, and hand warmers. The temperature might have plunged, but they'd been lucky enough to have another clear night, as if the stars wanted to shine their brightest on Feyre's birthday.

And beyond that, he'd been panicking for months over what to do for her first birthday since they'd started dating. She'd struggled to accept gifts gracefully for as long as he'd known her, and he hated seeing her stammer and insist whatever she'd been given was too much.

But Feyre didn't need to know how long he'd been agonizing for. He picked at an invisible piece of lint on his sweater as she rooted around in a drawer for a hat. "There isn't much about you that's easy to forget."

An hour later, they'd managed to get the telescope set up, even with their hands wrapped up in thick gloves. Their breath made clouds in the air as they took turns adjusting it and peering up at the stars.

By the time they tumbled back into bed, the sun had nearly risen. It had taken the last of Feyre's energy to peel off her coat and all the layers under it, and she'd nearly fallen back to sleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Rhys's arms banded around her, pulling her close as she whispered, "This was the best birthday I can remember."

***

After nearly a year of dating, they'd planned their summer travel around the Perseids. The late-August heat cooled off enough to make nights perfectly comfortable for watching the annual meteor shower. For months, Feyre had been looking forward to getting out of the city and watching it with Rhys.

But of course, a summer thunderstorm had gotten in the way of their plans.

In the days leading up to the trip, Rhys had been watching the weather obsessively, fretting over every last change in the predicted cloud cover. More than once, Feyre had nudged him to stop refreshing the page and just come to bed.

In the end, they'd decided not to cancel. Partial cloud cover, chance of rain low. It seemed worth risking it for the chance to watch shooting stars streak across the sky all night.

But the cloud cover turned out to be quite a lot worse than just partial. They'd only just gotten settled when a storm rolled in, and the rain began to pour.

Rhys and Feyre packed up their things in record time and made a mad dash back to the car. Feyre sighed with relief once they were out of the rain—only to shriek in surprise at the droplets that hit her as Rhys shook his head like a dog.

"Sorry," he said, pushing a wet lock of hair out of his eyes.

Feyre shrugged. "It's not as if I was dry anyway."

Now that she'd caught her breath, she let her gaze roam over him. Rhys's t-shirt had been stark white against his warm brown skin, and now it clung to his chest, the swirling tattoos that covered it showing through the material.

He was beautiful, and sometimes Feyre couldn't believe her luck that he was hers.

Even if he was smirking at her as if he could read her thoughts.

In the end, they'd attempted to salvage the evening by finding a place to eat. Not that there were many options this late. It took a while to find a place that stayed open all night, a diner called Rita's that seemed to be the only one for miles.

They were still waterlogged when the waitress showed them to their table. Feyre caught the hungry stares at Rhys and had nearly growled a warning to back off. Something in his eyes glittered.

When they were alone in their booth, he'd leaned in close and whispered, "You know I'm yours and yours alone, Feyre darling."

She'd shivered, not just because of the cold air on her wet skin.

***

Feyre hadn't thought much about how entwined their lives had felt until the solar eclipse was approaching. Hotels in the path of totality filled up well in advance—years in advance, even. But somehow, it didn't feel like wishful thinking to assume she'd be going with Rhys.

And she'd been right, of course. They shared a townhouse now, and Rhys was the person she came home to every day. I f Feyre had her way, that would be true for the rest of her life.

So a few weeks before the trip, Feyre found herself buying a ring.

By some miracle, she'd kept it hidden for weeks, tucked away in the back of a closet and the pocket of her coat. Throughout the drive, checking into their hotel, and dinner, Rhys hadn't seemed to suspect a thing.

But still, as darkness fell the next day and the moon moved in front of the sun, Feyre's heart leapt into her throat. She couldn't imagine he'd say no, but….a small part of her still worried Rhys might.

Her fingers curled around the box in her pocket, clutching it as if to steady herself. She took a deep breath and watched the sky through the tinted glasses they'd bought for the occasion.

Rhys's fingers brushed her other hand. The moon was nearly directly in front of the sun. It was now or never. Feyre dropped to one knee, pulling the box from her pocket, and tugged on Rhys's hand for his attention.

Only to find that he'd just done the same thing.

For a moment, they just stared at each other in shock, both kneeling with a ring in hand, then burst into laughter. Feyre launched herself into Rhys's arms.

"Should I take that to mean the answer is yes?" he said, kissing her.

"Of course it is."

"So is mine, if that wasn't obvious."

***

Eloping in the middle of the night was tempting. And with every frustration over finding a caterer and a photographer and a baker and every other task that seemed to be piling up as the wedding approached, it seemed even more tempting.

But they'd both been far too set on the idea of a ceremony in a planetarium to let all the planning to go waste.

Feyre tilted her head back and looked up at the stars as she waited to walk down the aisle. The planetarium had arranged them to replicate the sky on the first night they'd gone stargazing together. Just as she had then, she found Polaris with ease, right above the altar where Rhys was waiting for her.

Her worries about tripping on her dress or stumbling over the words in her vows melted away. Like so many had before her, Feyre looked up at the stars and knew with certainty exactly where to find home.

The rest of the day felt like a dream—when the music started, Feyre felt as if she'd floated down the aisle, pulled to Rhys by a string nestled next to both their hearts. In some ways, they'd always belonged to each other, but declaring it in front of their loved ones had her nearly glowing with happiness.

***

Long before the pregnancy test had come back positive, they'd both known the nursery would be covered in stars. And once they'd heard the name Nyx, Rhys and Feyre had agreed that nothing else sounded quite right.

Feyre had resolved to paint the nursery ceiling well before she started showing and standing too long on swollen feet became impossible. As early as possible, she'd bought several cans of glow-in-the-dark paint and printed out a map of the stars.

Rhys leaned against the doorframe and watched her—the meticulous way she painted each star, her tongue peeking out from between her lips as she focused, and the delicate curve of her fingers around the paintbrush. Given the opportunity, he could watch Feyre paint for hours.

When her concentration finally broke, he said, "Is there anything you need my help with?"

"Do you mind opening the can of paint near my feet?"

He did as she asked, stepping closer to pick up the can of paint that was sitting next to the ladder. As Rhys pried the lid open, flecks of paint splattered across his face. He blinked in surprise, and Feyre giggled.

Rhys went to wipe the paint from his face, but Feyre said, "Wait, no! Not yet."

She climbed down the ladder and crossed the room to turn off the lights. The paint began to glow, making Rhys look like he was covered in stardust.

He tipped his head back to admire the half-finished mural on the ceiling. "It's already beautiful."

"You think so?" Feyre came closer, wrapping an arm around his waist as she surveyed her work. Mapping the sky had been a meticulous, painstaking process, but she could see the final result beginning to come together. It would be worth it, if only just to have the soft glow illuminating midnight feedings when Nyx arrived.

"Everything you make is beautiful." Rhys pressed a kiss to her temple, which distracted Feyre enough that she didn't notice his fingers dipping back into the can of paint. He flicked some onto her, so she looked like she was covered in stardust, too.

"Rhysand," she squeaked, moving to wipe the paint away.

He caught her wrist before she could. "Don't. It looks like your freckles are glowing."

Feyre started to say that if he wasted any more of the paint, she'd be sending him back to the craft store, but the way he was looking at her stole her breath. Rhys leaned in to kiss her, under the stars as always.

[supernovaa-remnant]

Eurydice

c!dreambur | two-shot | 3.9k words | semi-canon compliant

“Maybe Orpheus should’ve just let Eurydice go,” Wilbur murmurs. // Wilbur hesitates. “You didn’t let go,” he whispers. “Of you?” Dream manages to say. “I could never.”

for this month's @sixteenth-day-event!! I used the prompts "a night under the stars" and "one powerful gift"

Dream brings them to a small clearing away from Pogtopia and away from the rest of the server. He places a few torches around to ward off mobs, though none seem to be around at the moment. It’s peaceful. So peaceful that, when Dream settles down on the grass, he barely even hesitates before removing his mask. The cool air hits his face, and as he takes a deep breath, he’s reminded of how much he’s missed the sensation of the breeze brushing against his cheeks. 

“Bringing me out to a secluded place to gaze at the stars and taking off your mask? How romantic,” Wilbur says with a chuckle, breaking Dream out of his reverie as the older man sits beside him, so close that their arms are almost touching. 

“You’re the one who said you had something urgent to discuss with me. I’m simply making sure no one overhears,” Dream says, deliberately ignoring the fact that his words don’t fully address Wilbur’s. 

But instead of responding further, Wilbur reaches a hand out and cups Dream’s face softly, his thumb gently rubbing along Dream’s cheekbone. It makes Dream’s breath momentarily hitch in his throat, and his reaction causes a small smirk to spread across Wilbur’s face. The brunet’s gaze flickers downwards. Dream’s heartbeat picks up despite his best efforts, but just as he begins to lean in, Wilbur pulls away.

Dream purses his lips whilst Wilbur lays back on the ground, turning his attention to the stars above and away from Dream. 

“What’s this urgent thing you wanted to discuss?” Dream asks, averting his own gaze and biting the inside of his cheek in an attempt to stave off the disappointment that threatens to invade his mind. 

“How familiar are you with the constellations, Dream?” Wilbur asks instead of answering the question. 

“Wilbur–”

A hand grabs his wrist. His attention is pulled back to Wilbur like it always is. It’s like an inevitability, viridian pulled to brown like the tides are pulled by the moon. But it’s Wilbur who looks away first, a break in their usual routine that leaves Dream taken aback. It’s not often that he wins their stare offs, and he finds himself not quite sure what to do with the victory. 

“There’s nothing urgent,” Wilbur admits. “I just wanted to get out of Pogtopia for the night.” Wilbur chuckles softly, looking up at the stars like they’re the only witness to his confession. “I wanted to briefly escape the narrative before tomorrow comes.” 

Dream frowns. There’s a hint of resignation when Wilbur says the words, but no matter how much Dream tries to pick it apart, he can’t quite figure out why Wilbur sounds that way. 

“Tomorrow will be fine,” Dream says in a flimsy attempt to console the other. “It’s all going to go according to plan.” 

Wilbur hums. “You’re right,” he says, “my symphony will play the final note I intend for it.” 

The hand around Dream’s wrist rubs circles into his skin. He simultaneously wants to lean into the touch and pull away from it, so he makes a compromise by pulling away but laying side by side with Wilbur, so close that Wilbur’s knuckles occasionally brush against his own. 

“How familiar are you with the constellations?” Wilbur asks again. 

Dream stares up at the void above, littered with pin-pricks of light. His mind picks out the familiar stars—Polaris, Alnitak, Alnilam, and Mintaka—as well as the familiar constellations—Orion’s Belt, Ursa Major and Minor, and Cassiopeia. The night sky is a well-known sight to him, and he’s spent countless nights looking up at it, but the constellations are more elusive to his mind. But he doesn’t need to know the names of constellations and the imaginary lines that connect them in order to use the stars as a guide. 

“Familiar enough,” he answers. “They’re useful for navigation.” 

Out of all navigation techniques, the stars are the most constant. Compasses aren’t accessible to everyone, and maps are too situated to specific servers. The stars, though, are the same no matter what. He’s been navigating with the stars for almost as long as he can remember—they’re more of a constant than all the people in his life, and though the thought feels bitter, it’s nothing but the truth. Bad had tried to teach him to read maps when they’d first met, but it hadn’t quite clicked in his brain, not like the stars had. Maps came in all sorts of forms, showcasing rivers and elevation and towns, and it was all much more than he could keep track of, even with Bad’s attempts at help. But with the stars, as long as he finds Polaris, he can go anywhere. 

“I don’t know how to navigate with the stars,” Wilbur admits. 

“It’s not that difficult,” Dream responds. “You just need to find the North Star, and you’re pretty much set from there.” 

“I’m sure it’s easy,” Wilbur says, “I’ve just never tried.” 

Wilbur’s knuckles brush against his yet again, and the contact sends sparks through his body. He uses all of his willpower to keep his gaze towards the sky. 

“I’m more familiar with the myths behind the constellations, myself,” Wilbur says. “Techno used to tell me the stories whenever he’d visit Phil.” 

“Tell me about them,” Dream says quietly, like daring to say a request, of all things, any louder would be revealing his hand. 

Wilbur points to a region of stars that looks relatively unremarkable even to Dream’s trained eyes. He stares, trying to find the constellation before Wilbur shows it to him, but his efforts are in vain. 

“It’s a bit difficult to see,” Wilbur says, “but it looks like a rhombus with an upside down triangle attached to its upper right corner.” 

Dream blinks. 

“What’s it supposed to be?” He asks, eyes still searching the sky. He stops on what he thinks might be the constellation, but it’s not that difficult to make simple shapes out of the stars. 

“It’s the constellation Lyra. It represents Orpheus’ lyre from Greek mythology,” Wilbur explains. 

Dream looks at the shape in the sky and tries to imagine the invisible lines becoming a more complex invisible image, but he finds the task increasingly difficult when he realizes he’s not entirely sure what a lyre even looks like. 

“You’re familiar with Orpheus, right?” Wilbur asks. 

“He went to the underworld to save his wife from death,” Dream says, ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach when he thinks about the concept of revival after death, pushing images of a certain book out of his mind. “He wasn’t supposed to look back, but he did. At the last second he looked back, and he lost her forever.” 

“That’s right.” Wilbur’s fingers wrap around Dream’s hand, brushing against his palm before moving up and interlocking with Dream’s own fingers. The path he takes burns into Dream’s skin, and Dream practices a steady rise and fall of his chest, mentally counting in intervals of five in an attempt to ignore the feeling. 

Wilbur tugs lightly, prompting Dream to turn his head towards the other. 

The brunet’s already staring at him when Dream meets his gaze. There’s an almost bitter glint in his eyes, but it bleeds into something more fond when looking at Dream. It’s an intentional choice on Wilbur’s part, Dream’s sure, but the action causes a warmth to settle in his chest nonetheless. 

“Orpheus tried to change the ending,” Wilbur says. “It led to more pain, in the end; all it resulted in was the cruelty of hope being taken at the last moment.” 

Wilbur pulls away in favor of laying on his side, and Dream mirrors his movement. Wilbur’s hand returns to Dream’s cheek. It lingers longer, this time, until the smell of smoke on Wilbur’s fingertips reaches Dream’s nose. There’s an odd expression on Wilbur’s face, one which Dream can’t name, but, then again, he’s always had difficulty reading the other. 

“Maybe Orpheus should’ve just let Eurydice go,” Wilbur murmurs. 

Dream’s brows furrow. 

“Why do you say that?” 

Wilbur avoids the question by leaning forward and capturing Dream’s lips in a soft kiss. It’s different than their kisses usually are; it’s slow and gentle, like Wilbur’s savoring the feeling and the taste of Dream’s lips. It causes yearning to ignite within him, shining as brilliantly as Polaris, and he wonders if he’ll be consumed by it.

It’s treacherous. Like Prometheus giving fire to humanity, it’s treacherous. Because he has things to do and a server to fix and mysteries to solve, and he can’t abandon it just because the man who started a war against him is suddenly making butterflies appear in his stomach. 

It’s treacherous. 

And yet–

“After tomorrow,” he says when he and Wilbur finally pull away from the kiss, though they remain so close that their breath mixes together. “After tomorrow, I can teach you how to navigate with the stars. We can go on a little adventure, just the two of us. Not forever. Just until the server calms down a bit. Like a vacation.” 

A small smile graces Wilbur’s lips. “That sounds lovely,” he says, but the air of melancholy surrounding the words makes unease settle in Dream’s chest. 

Wilbur closes his eyes and murmurs, “they say if you love someone you should let them go,” so quietly that Dream wonders if he was even supposed to hear the words. “Maybe Orpheus should have just allowed Eurydice to have a peaceful rest in the Underworld,” Wilbur continues, words just as hushed. “Maybe he should’ve just let her go.” 

Dream’s heart stutters in his chest, cracking and splintering and threatening to let tendrils of sorrow sink in. He tries to distract himself. He tries to count the barely perceptible freckles on Wilbur’s cheeks, tries to focus on the feeling of Wilbur’s calloused fingers on his skin, but it’s all in vain when his mind keeps looping the melancholic words over and over again. 

Wilbur opens his eyes, gifting Dream with a look so tender it makes his heart ache. “Then again,” he says, louder, “I can’t really blame him for wanting to hold onto Eurydice.” 

“Are you saying I’m the Eurydice to your Orpheus?” Dream asks, teasing in an attempt to move away from the heavy atmosphere. 

“Maybe you are,” Wilbur responds with a humorless chuckle. “Or perhaps you’re Orpheus, and I’m Eurydice. Maybe we’ll just have to wait and see.” 

Dream swallows the lump in his throat. 

“Maybe we can figure it out after tomorrow,” he suggests. 

Wilbur hums non-committedly. “Maybe,” he says, and then he’s meeting Dream in another kiss that’s so gentle it makes Dream’s head spin. It’s a distraction and an avoidance, Dream knows, but he leans readily into it anyway, all too eager to escape the sinking feeling in his chest. 

After tomorrow, he thinks to himself, it’ll all be okay after tomorrow.  (But there will be no after tomorrow for Wilbur Soot, he’ll learn. The final note of the symphony will play and Wilbur Soot will be cut down by the hand of his own father before he ever reaches past November 16th. And Dream? The weight of a book will sit heavily in his mind, and he will understand why Orpheus refused to let Eurydice go).

read chapter two here

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Had a few ideas last night (Part 1/?)

Sky's The Limit: College football player, Michael "Booster Gold" Carter, pretends to come from a rich family to impress Ted Kord.

Talking in Code: After Ted moves into his new apartment with his best friend in Gotham, he discovers he has a tiny stalker.

It's All Greek To Me: Cassie Sandsmark followed Stephanie Brown home from a party. (One-shot)

like moths to a flame: Ted follows Alan to a nightclub. (One-shot)

sweeter than summer: Connor Hawke surprises Kyle while he works on a mural (One-shot)

The Stowaway: Bart (4 years old) secretly tags along with Linda and Wally on their honeymoon

Orion's Belt: Andromeda and Brainy open a restaurant together.

The Want Ads: Jade answers an ad for a woman in New York seeking a roommate and upon moving in, she finds out they have something in common.

Something Sweet: Jenni reopens the family restaurant with her cousins (Owen, Bart, Thad, and Judy).

Seven-Day Stretch: Judy visits Bart's college for her spring break.

Lilac Cove: Kory invites Vic to her family trip as a buffer.

[blinddreams24]

Midnight

A Mermay Prompt

Masterlist

Prev / Next

Stargazing.

It was one of the few times the sky was clear enough at night. You just had to. When you arrived at the beach(up on the cliff several meters from the water where you always went stargazing) the silver grin of the moon was just peeking up from the eastern horizon.

An otherwise perfect night.

You settled down with a blanket as the sound of waves filled your ears and the stars filled your eyes.

“Hey! Hey! Human! Pspspsps!”

The gravely, whispered voice broke you out of your reverie. What time was it? Wait. Who was that?

You looked down the cliff at the water. Bright glowing red met your eyes. Killer grinned up at you.

“Hi.” He waved. (Pun intended)

You scoffed and leaned back to stare at the stars.

“Awwww, c’mon! Don’t ignore me! I just wanted to check up on ya!”

“After you tried to take my arm?” You snapped.

You could almost feel him raise a finger in a well-actually gesture. “If I wanted your arm, you wouldn’t still have it. You’ll notice the only thing you’ll have of my attack are scars. No permanent damage or disfiguring. Just scars.”

Your wounded arm stayed hidden under the blanket. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” You looked down at him again.

“Kinda. I’m just tellin’ you that I’m precise.” He tilted his head and smiled at you.

Insufferable.

“Leave me alone, Killer.” You sighed, flopping onto your back.

“Oooh~! Crossy told you my name? I’m flattered. Although, it seems a little unfair that I don’t know yours, doesn’t it?” He ‘hmm’ed up at you.

You didn’t respond, trying to ignore him and lose yourself in the stars.

“…Human~! Pspspsps. C’mon! Don’t leave me driftin’! You know my name and you didn’t even ask!”

. . .

Killer started whistling. It sounded like some ancient tune, haunting and beautiful. It spun and swayed and pulled, twisting into a symphony and pulling you along with it.

Then it suddenly stopped.

Your eyes widened as your mind cleared. You were standing on the edge of the cliff, looking down at the siren that grinned up at you.

“Do you know how easy it would be to sing those last few notes?”

Right. Sirens. They had the power of song. Manipulating the minds of whoever could hear them. And you had thought you were safe on the cliff.

“D-Don’t. Please.” You stuttered, terrified. You couldn’t move, not because something was holding you there, but because you knew that if you tried to run now he’d kill you.

He tilted his head. “Oh~? Why not? I mean, you’ve been so rude to me.” Killer pushed himself up on a rock, the bright red glow bursting out of the water and floating just outside of his chest. “Of course~, I’d feel less inclined to kill you if I knew your name. Don’t you think?”

“Y/n. My name is y/n.”

“There you go! Was that so hard?” His tail swished back and forth in the water behind him. “And I’m Killer. Though, you already knew that.”

Sensing the coast was clear, you wobbled away from the cliff and sat down again. Leaving entirely was probably still a bad idea.

“So whatcha doin’ out here in the middle of the night, y/n?” He teased as if he hadn’t just almost killed you.

“Stargazing.”

“Oh?” He paused.

Suddenly, it was as if you were alone again. Waves crashing, stars taking up your vision and blissful silence from Killer. Out of curiosity, you shot a glance at the siren and smirked.

He sat perched halfway on a rock, head craned to look upwards, and mouth agape as he stared at the galaxies above him. The red on his chest twisted and settled into an upside down heart shape. If you forgot the attempted murder and the ominous red glow, he looked kinda cute. Like a love struck little boy.

“Woah…” Was his breathless response. “I… I’ve never actually looked…”

“…Really?”

Two little white eyelights shot to you, as if he forgot you were there, and twinkled like stars. “Yeah…It’s beautiful.”

You sighed, happy you’d made the little beast less aggressive. “Yeah. See those three there?” He looked up when you pointed. “That’s Orion’s Belt.”

“Orion’s Belt?”

“Yeah. And right there, see? That’s his torso, and his arms and-.”

“Where are you seeing all this? Did you poke a puffer on your way here?” Killer interrupted, amusement in his voice.

“Shush, I’m teaching you astrology~.” He chuckled at you and listened to you deep into the night.

You must have passed out at some point, because the first rays of dawn woke you all by yourself. Killer no where in sight.

[halfbakedspuds]

Thanks to @oh-no-another-idea for the tag!

OC in Fifteen

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

I barely do any of these for the Tempest Prince, so have one for Jason Haliday, the somewhat overprotective, batshit crazy older brother and resident mage of the group.

Also not all of these are narrated from the same POV, and some of these are simply his narration so technically one of his lines, anyway, just bear that in mind.

"Ya'll have been trying so bloody hard to piss me off for five years now. You really want to know what happens when I finally lose my shit? Well I'll be honest, I'm not entirely sure myself," I could practically feel the thrum of raw power in my veins, an anthem to the coming storm to accompany the growing smell of distant rain, "Let's find out together, shall we?"

"The world needs heroes, and instead: it got us," Jason said from his corner, "I say the world can deal with it,"

I barely got out of the way before the vaguely Jason shaped blur passed me by, trailing the vague scent of brimstone and the words "Don't follow me!" as he went.

"Hey!" He belted across the way to them, wiping bright red blood from his lips and raising his little wooden blade yet again, "I ain't heard no bell, get your arses back here!"

"The plan?" He echoed. A moment later he simply shrugged, "Shit man, I don't know, just try to ball harder than this Cthulhu looking asshole, I guess,"

Great. Even in death someone needs me for something, fuck's sake.

"Hayibo, s'mos jus' down the street and a sho't left at the robot. You got that, nê?" I shot [Jason] a look to say that only he and I understood any of that. He shot me a grin saying that that was the point.

"I'm prancing around like a little leprechaun, does it fucken look like I'm ready for this?"

"Well," I said, sliding my back down the wall to sit beside her, "For what it's worth, I didn't mean for any of this to happen. Hell, I was just having a go at you for being an ass, but if I had any idea about any of this shit..." I shook my head, idly drawing in the dust around me, "God knows, I'm out of my depth on this one. You're right, I don't belong here,"

I probably should've been scared out of my mind. Instead, all I could think was 'Holy shit, I need to ask about this lady's workout routine',"

"It's not like you're the one getting hijacked by the drunken ghosts of Christmas past, present and future, now are ya?"

"You know, mom's gonna kill us if we die,"

"Sorry tjomma, but I just gotta ask you something- you know how it is, I'm neither subspecies: neutral party and all that- so uh... Exactly what the actual fuck is wrong with you?"

"Hey, Aten, can you tell your little cadre of gods to shut up for a second? The grown-ups are talking,"

Lord give me patience because I will strangle this boy if you give me strength.

No pressure tag for @honeybewrites @illarian-rambling @thatoneterrariaplayers-vault @orion-lacroix and anyone else who wants in

[dzthenerd490]

File: ALF

SCP#: ALF

Cond Name: Alf the Alien/ The Alien. Life. Form.

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-ALF has been given unlimited access to the common areas of Site-AA, though reportedly his most favorite area to be in is the cafeteria. Foundation security is to always update observation staff at Site-AA where SCP-ALF is, even when he is clearly in camera view. SCP-ALF has been given a watch that alerts him when he is leaving the Level 1 Clearance common areas. Should SCP-ALF enter an area of Level 2 Clearance or higher he will be shocked by the watch until he backs away. This has proven the most effective deterrent as just telling him to not go does nothing since he'll probably forget.

In the event of a containment breach at Site-AA, SCP-ALF is to join Foundation staff in entering one of the nearest Cavafy Reality Concealment Safety Bunkers.

SCP-ALF is under the assumption that he is the last of his kind, he is to never be made aware the truth shows otherwise. All incoming transmissions form surviving Melmacian's is to be recorded and disrupted form reaching earth by the Telecommunications Monitoring Office's lunar satellite division.

Description: SCP-ALF is a member of Species of Interest: Melmacian's. Melmacian's are an endangered species that suffered from a nuclear disaster ending their home world. SCP-ALF was one of the only survivors of the destruction after crashlanding on earth by accident. SCP-ALF was in possession of a damaged ship and some advanced technology all of which had been confiscated by the Foundation. Though most of it was deemed unusable due to how it was all nuclear based and quite easy to malfunction and lead to nuclear meltdown. As such it was dismantled and recycled for parts.

SCP-ALF like the other Melmacian's is a small humanoid creature with black eyes, a snout like mouth, and oddly long hair on his head. He possesses an overweight body, stubbly feed with short legs, long arms with fat hands, and a completely fur covered body. SCP-ALF knows how to handle advanced technology, but his personality does not present him as very smart. SCP-ALF is very snarky and likes to crack jokes whenever he can. He also has a huge appetite being able to eat almost any kind of food presented in front of him within seconds. Though most peculiarly he claims that cats are quite similar to the cattle of his world and thus likes to eat them as well.

However, despite his fun-loving personality, SCP-ALF suffers from depression believing he is the last of his kind. To help with this SCP-ALF was not confined to a containment cell but allowed to roam freely within Site-AA. This and him interacting with Foundation staff and having lively and hilarious conversations has helped SCP-ALF in dealing with his depression and survivor's guilt. It is because of his social personality that makes most Foundation staff smile and his lack of desire to leave is why SCP-ALF is labeled as Object Class: Safe.

SCP-ALF was discovered in 1986 when he crash landed in the garage of suburban home after suddenly appearing in our solar system and being shot down by a ISSJ-4 “Crow” from Mobile Task Force Apollo-1 "Orion's Belt". The pilot claimed he showed up out of nowhere and fired at his ship thinking it was a hostile craft. SCP-ALF's location was quickly found, and the family was amnestied while he was brought into Foundation custody. After reviewing interviews and first testing logs Site Director James fell in love with his jokes and assigned him to Site-AA as a way to boost morale with staff.

It's actually thanks to SCP-ALF that Foundation staff now have access to Trofeam Molecular Conversion Consumable Stations within Cavafy Reality Concealment Safety Bunkers as he complained about it regularly. SCP-ALF is actually used regularly to show Foundation staff how common areas can be improved in relaxation and has helped other Foundation sites make things more comfortable for their staff during break time. SCP-ALF has been made aware of this and likes to joke about him being an essential asset to the Foundation. To this day no one has refuted his claims as most either don't dare ruin his joy or secretly agree with him.

.

SCP: Horror Movie Files Hub

[druidx]

Her Countenance was Light - Chapter 21

CW: Injury, blood AO3 ; Chapters: 01. 10. 20. Tag list (ask for +/-): @aquadestinyswriting, @hannah-heartstrings, @jacqueswriteblrlibrary, @babyblueetbaemonster @mr-orion

The Kass-whatever-the-hell-it-was-called has apparently not given chase. There's no crashing in the undergrowth but her. It's odd, she thinks; she feels certain that it could have hunted her down if it wanted to… But then she is stumbling out of the bushes and crawling through a hole in the chicken-wire fence and onto a brick-laid alley at the back of City Hall. And, gods above, she wants to stop and take a breather, but the other fairytale creature is jostling her upright with cajoling words about not dying in the gutter like a rat. It feels like it takes ages for the creature's words to seep through the pain and reach some survivalist part of her mind, and anyway, she's distracted by the thing. It has dark brown skin like hers, but some kind of condition makes it appear in whorls and ridges that seem familiar but she can't place it right now. It has mottled green hair and is dressed in a short green tunic of soft-looking cloth, clinched at the waist by a wide leather belt. "What are you?" she asks it. 🙢Alas, there is not the time to explain,🙡 it says, as it shoves her to her feet. "Do you have a name?" 🙢Willowsprout, Atnešė,🙡 it says. Legnok slings her arm over its shoulders and hauls her upright. Between the two of them, they drag her towards the corner of the alley, to where the light from City Hall spills onto the crowd milling in quiet panic, surrounded by cop cars and blood wagons. «Youse think you can make it on your own from here?» Legnok says. «Only, we's gotta skedaddle now.» 🙢Apologies, you'll have to manage from here,🙡 says Willowsprout. 🙢We can't let the twicelings see us.🙡 "Yeah," Elo says. "Sure. I'll manage." The two creatures melt into the shadows. «Remember your promise!» says Legnok. "Yeah, yeah," she mumbles. "I see either of you again, I'll buy you more than a cup of joe. A beer for each. Blood, bark, bond, et cetera."

And then she is stumbling into the edge of the crowd, and someone cries out at the sight of her. "Sergeant O'Toreguarde," she says, with a hiccup. "Checking in."

She sways on her feet, and someone is calling for a medic and someone else is practically carrying her to a bench and someone is trying to ask her what the hell happened to her. "Sniper," she says, because even in her own head that is more sensible than a giant man made of shadow with an incomprehensible name wielding a massive sword made of ice. "Got away," she adds, because otherwise people might start assuming she got whoever fired those shots and demand to see a corpse because no one in their right mind would let a sniper get away with shooting into a crowd of the most highly decorated and influential people in her city without some retribution. And then the crowd of people milling around her is swiftly moving to the side and she thinks she's seeing triple, because there are three large, angry-looking gentlemen bearing down on her – though when Strucker got here, and why Clayrmantle is shorter she doesn't understand – and they are all talking over each other in their morbid excitement and she cannot think and they are so loud and for all their loudness she cannot hear what they are saying and "SHUT! UP!" There is almost instant silence, and it ripples out from her in a wave as everyone in the whole damn plaza is suddenly very quiet. "You three– Just hush for a moment," she tells them. "I can't answer your ninety-mile-an-hour questions if you keep jabbering over each other. You're supposed to be rulers, not over-excited puppies, now bloody act like it and shut up so I can speak." She pulls in a breath, winces at the pain in her side, and lets it out again. "I'm fine. Well. I'm not fine. I've been cut. He had a sword. But I'm mostly fine. Despite the fact I'm wearing a stupid, nonsensical, now ruined, dress, I'm mostly fine. I went back to help with evac, lost my footing and fell off the terrace. Which is stupid, I know, but I nearly ate a bullet, and it saved my life, so, there's that. But I interrupted the sniper fleeing, and he didn't like that, so we had a bit of a tussle, and he stabbed me, and got away. I'm sorry, I screwed up, I should have waited for backup, I wasn't thinking. But I'm here and I'm still alive and fine. Mostly." She stops, thinks for a moment. "Could someone get me a very large glass of rum?" And then, despite her hurts, somehow she is being embraced by all three of them. She squeals as the pain in her side shoots through her again. "Alright, get away from her you feckless beasties," Merri is saying, and physically pulls Strucker away followed by Clayrmantle. She is a little more deferential to her king, but not by much, tapping him heavily on the shoulder and ordering him away a second time.

Then Merri is knelt next to the bench, a med kit out and something cold and alcoholic and oh dear fuck that burns, and Elo thought they were friends is being swiped over the rent in her flesh. She grits her teeth, eyes screwed tight, and yells as Merri repeats the activity, the cold stinging swipe getting less with each pass. Then something warm and dry is being pressed to the wound. "Andersen! Check if one of those ambulances is free, aye? Strucker, put pressure on this," Merri demands, as the medic wraps a bandage around Elo's waist, holding the dressing in place. Elo keeps her eyes closed – she cannot look, but this has happened enough times to either herself or one of their teammates in the Special Forces that she doesn't need to look, she knows exactly the procedure that Merri is following. When Merri sits back and puts a tired hand on Elo's knee, Elo takes a breath and marvels at her friend's quick work. "You need to go to hospital, cridhe," Merri says, accent thickening in worry. "This is just a patch-job, you understand? It needs stitches and a proper clean." Johan plucks a leaf out of Elo's hair. "All of her needs a proper clean." And Elo's best friend in the whole world squints up at her, a snarky grin on her face, and says, "We could dip her in a canal. Quickest and easiest way to get all that muck off her, eh?" Elo tries to snort a laugh but the action sends sparks of pain through her. "Easy, easy," Merri cautions, even as she's grinning unrepentantly. She runs her hands over Elo's frame. "Mer!" Elo says, mock scandalised. "Your betrothed is around here somewhere." Even if her tone is teasing, Elo can't quite fight down the flush in her cheeks. "Oh, shush. I'm checking you for more wounds. What's this?" Merri's hand has come away tacky from Elo's arm. "I dunno." Then Elo remembers. "I got bit by something?" Merri is back with that cold and stinging alcohol, swabbing the area. Then she gasps and swears in Icelandic. "You got bit by a fucking bullet. Thor's balls, you're lucky."

"What about everyone else?" Elo manages, after Merri has finished dealing with the scrape left by the bullet that nearly killed the King. She hasn't seen Yoruk or the Exchequer; while she's more worried about Yoruk, she has to at least pretend to be concerned about one of the Triumvirate. The light is hazy and too bright, she's inches away from falling asleep right on the bench, but she still has to know. "Your Acting Magister there, he caught a shot to the leg, but the bullet didn't do much damage. There were a few lacerations from falling glass, bruises and sprains from people fleeing and fighting each other in their haste, but aside from that, no. You're the only one who's taken any bad damage." "Good," is all Elo can think to say. "And when you're more lucid," Merri's voice drops to a dangerous growl, "you are going to get a refresher on how one performs close personal protection, and the correct procedures to follow during a sniper shooting." Elo giggles. She can't help herself. The titter comes out before she can stop it, and this time it won't be tamped down. "I knew this would happen," Elo says, gasping her laughter. "Y'all're gonna have to take a number." Merri gives her a confused glare. "Make an appointment, y'know?" "Appointments– What?" "So y'all get your chance to yell at me. Gotta have a booking slot, make it nice and orderly." Elo cackles again, clears her throat and tries to sound serious. "It'll have to be first come first serve, I won't make preference for rank or title." The pretence doesn't last long as she dissolves into hiccuping giggles. Merri stares, frowning, mouth agape. Then her eyes squeeze shut and she gives an incredulous shake of the head, following it up by yelling, "Anderssen! Where the fuck is my ambulance?" Elo's eyes snap open. "What, no, I'm not going–" "The fuck you're not. Did you not hear me? You need more than field medicine." "–I'm on duty." Storri turns sharply. "You're relieved, Sargent." "But–" Johan crouches down in front of her, gently touches her cheek until she's staring into those cloudy blue depths. "You're going to the hospital. No ifs, buts, or maybes. I will sling you over my shoulder if I have to, but you are going." Merri, she notices, has courageously abandoned her to being bullied by these leaders of, of – men, dwarves and elves – people. People! Just people, nothing else. Bloody fairy stories. "Elo, are you listening to me? I have lost one daughter this week to some greater cosmic accident and I will not lose another through stubbornness and thick-headedness. Do I make myself clear, young lady? I have lost my Evelyn. I will not lose my Elowyn too." And that's it. Elo's eyes mist up and the tears start dripping down her face and Johan's arms are around her as she quietly sobs into his shoulder.