#sai int

[sai-int]

Panther | Original Sin

[NEXT]

MASTERLIST AO3

cw: strong language, depictions of violence, 3.6k words

DEC 24 - 2020

The deafening roar of the helicopter’s blades hammered against my eardrums, even through the headset. We were close.

"Hawk's down in five!" the pilot barked over the comms, raising a hand in signal. Five of us were crammed into the Black Hawk, shoulders pressing together in the tight space.

I glanced to my right at Captain Alvarez, who took a long drag from his cigarette before flicking it into the rushing air. His face was unreadable, just like always, but his reputation spoke loud enough. I let out a slow breath, bracing myself for what was coming.

The helo touched down about ten klicks from the target. Him. The slippery bastard who’d evaded us time and time again. I’d been praying for this moment for weeks—praying for the intel, the hit, the chance to finally end it.

When it came, I almost didn’t believe it.

The higher-ups called the mission a long shot, said it was reckless. But what Alvarez wanted, Alvarez got. That cocky son of a bitch thrived on impossible odds, dragging us into suicide runs like it was a sport. Worst captain I’d ever served under, hands down.

We rolled out fast, hitting the ground running. The Black Hawk lifted away as we bolted for the treeline, rifles up, senses sharp. We regrouped in the cover of the brush, dropped to a knee, and waited for orders.

Alvarez crouched in the middle of us, his voice low but commanding. "We’re sticking to my plan. Screw the one they handed down," he said, as if this was news.

"Alpha team: Dawson and Tate. Bravo: Michaels and Cain. Charlie: me and Floyd. We’ll flank the building from your assigned sides. Sit-rep once you’re inside. And remember..." He paused, flashing that trademark grin. "Shoot anything that moves."

Then, almost as an afterthought, he added: "But be tasteful about it."

The irony wasn’t lost on me. Alvarez's "taste" usually left a trail of bodies we’d spend weeks explaining away. The guy was going to get us all killed. But for now, we moved.

Because what Alvarez wanted, Alvarez got.

10 Klicks to target 

Tate and I had been moving through the forest for about an hour, the only sounds our boots crunching on dead leaves and the faint hum of distant rotors fading into the horizon. Then, a rustle. A twig snapped.

I shot Tate a glance, my expression set in its usual RBF with just enough suspicion to match. Without a word, we ducked behind an overturned picnic table, rifles up.

"On me," Tate whispered, his voice barely audible.

He moved forward with practiced precision, and I followed, keeping low as we flanked the source of the sound. We each took cover behind a tree, ears straining for movement. I leaned out to signal I’d heard nothing, but the instant I did, another twig snapped—and a shot cracked through the stillness.

Tate hit the forest floor hard, his body landing with a dull thud, gear clanking like shattered glass against the silence. My breath hitched as I pressed myself back against the tree. Death wasn’t new to me, but this one stung. Tate wasn’t just another teammate—I liked the guy.

For a moment, there was nothing but the faint rustle of leaves, the shuffle of his gear, and then...

A soft trickling sound.

I froze. No way.

The bastard was pissing on him.

My grip tightened on my rifle as rage settled in. Quietly, I moved, my steps deliberate, each one muffled against the leaf-strewn ground. My eyes locked on the man—light armor, cocky stance, totally unaware he was about to die.

Just as he zipped up, I slipped a knife from my vest. The blade felt cool in my hand, steady as the adrenaline pumped through me.

I lunged, grabbing the man by the back of his helmet. He struggled, hands flailing for his weapon, but I was faster. I yanked up his helmet strap and drew the blade clean across his throat.

Blood spattered the tree in a violent arc as he gurgled and crumpled forward, landing atop Tate’s desecrated corpse. The forest fell silent again, save for the ringing in my ears.

I crouched beside Tate, my hands moving quickly to retrieve his dog tags. They jingled softly as I stuffed them into my pocket, a small weight heavier than it should’ve been.

I keyed my radio and spoke low. “One KIA. Hostile neutralized. No one’s at the base yet.”

No time for mourning. I turned, shoulders squared, and kept moving through the forest.

3 Klicks to Target

I’d been ordered to regroup with Michaels and Cain. By the time I found them, we were just under two miles from the base, the weight of the mission bearing down on us.

Hostile activity had spiked over the last seven klicks. Each of us already had at least three kills to our name, but the forest was alive with movement, a reminder that the enemy wasn’t giving us a free pass.

Cain, taking point, suddenly stopped and raised a fist. Two hostiles emerged about ten meters ahead, their careless steps crunching on dried leaves. Cain didn’t hesitate—two muffled pops from his silenced AR, and they dropped like stones.

“These fuckers are lurking,” Cain muttered, scanning the treeline as he reloaded. “They know we’re coming. Stay vigilant.”

“Affirm,” I murmured, my eyes sweeping the rear and sides for any sign of movement. The forest had gone unnervingly quiet again, like it was holding its breath.

We moved in tandem, every step measured, every sound scrutinized. The closer we got, the heavier the air felt.

The Target

We pressed forward until we reached the outer perimeter of the base. Towering concrete walls loomed over us, jagged and imposing. They weren’t just designed to keep people out—something told me they were meant to keep something in.

Michaels keyed his comms. “Captain, this is Bravo. We’ve reached the perimeter. Awaiting instructions.”

A crackle, then Alvarez’s voice cut through. “Copy that. Move to Phase Two.”

Michaels glanced at us. “Let’s move.”

Cain and I fell in behind him as he took point, the sun dipping toward the horizon, painting the landscape in eerie shadows. Nothing about this mission felt right. From the moment we veered off the original plan, my gut had been screaming at me.

Even with the walls towering over us, I could hear muffled chatter from the guards inside. Too many voices. Too close. We slid back into the treeline, using the cover of darkness to approach our entry point.

Michaels led the way, Cain and I hanging five meters behind, keeping to the shadows.

The whisper of a silenced bullet cut through the air.

Michaels froze, his body stuttering as blood sprayed from his throat. He turned, locking eyes with me for a fleeting second before crumpling to the ground.

Another bullet zipped past, splintering bark inches from my head. Cain and I dove for cover, hearts pounding as the unmistakable blare of the base’s alarm shattered the stillness.

“Dawson, what the hell is going on?!” Alvarez’s voice thundered in my ear. “The facility’s on high alert an—”

Static. Then silence.

The siren wailed on, piercing and relentless. My comms were dead, jammed, and the situation had gone from bad to worse.

I peeked out, angling a mirror from my vest to scan the top of the wall. At least fifteen hostiles with snipers had lined up, weapons trained on our position.

Cain muttered a curse, pulling a granola bar from his pocket and tossing it toward a nearby tree.

It didn’t even hit the bark before it was shredded by gunfire.

I met Cain’s wide-eyed stare, the fear in his expression mirroring my own. “Can you reach Alvarez?” I hissed.

He tapped his comms, whispering, “Captain, do you copy?” Silence. He tried again. Nothing.

The base’s main gate creaked open, revealing a squad of heavily armed hostiles. Half broke off toward the direction of Alvarez and Floyd; the other half came straight for us.

The crunch of leaves and rustle of gear drew closer. Cain and I locked eyes, unspoken agreement passing between us.

Run.

We bolted, weaving through the dense forest. The enemy was right on our heels, bullets snapping through the trees.

Three shots rang out. Cain stumbled, his body crashing to the ground with a sickening thud. I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

My lungs burned, my legs screamed for mercy, but I pushed on, shooting blindly over my shoulder. A single body hit the ground, but the rest kept coming.

The darkness thickened as I pressed deeper into the forest, the canopy swallowing the last remnants of light. My gear weighed me down, each step slower than the last. Desperate, I tore off my vest and tossed it aside, feeling a grim sort of relief at the newfound lightness.

Vaulting over a fallen tree, I heard the enemy slow, their heavy breaths blending with the rustling leaves. Some had given up, but the determined ones were closing in.

I stripped off my jacket, then hesitated before unhooking my rifle. It hit the forest floor with a dull thud. Now, it was just me, my Glock, and my knife against the hunters.

With adrenaline surging, I spotted a climbable tree and scrambled up, my body moving faster than my mind. The rough bark scraped against my palms as I ascended, settling into the canopy. The branches groaned under my weight, but they held. For now.

Below, flashlights cut through the darkness, beams of light sweeping the forest floor. I climbed higher, pressing myself into the shadows of the leaves, praying they wouldn’t look up.

The men shouted to each other in Russian, their voices growing fainter. Then, the rumble of an ATV engine broke through. The hunters regrouped, mounted the vehicle, and disappeared into the distance.

Alone at last, I slumped against the trunk, my chest heaving. Exhaustion swept over me, and I used my belt to secure myself to the branch.

The distant wail of the base’s alarms faded into the night as sleep took me. For now, I was alive. But I was far from safe.

・・・・・

The early morning sun kissed my face, stirring me from restless sleep. My body ached, every muscle screaming from the abuse I’d put it through the night before. I blinked against the glare of sunlight filtering through the canopy, and as my senses sharpened, reality crashed down on me like a wave.

I was still in the tree.

It hadn’t been a dream. Michaels, Cain, the ambush—all of it was real.

I shifted carefully, readjusting my belt so it was strapped securely around my waist instead of the branch. The ground was a dizzying 10 meters below, littered with fallen leaves and broken twigs that would give me away the second I made a wrong move.

Then I heard it—voices.

They were faint but unmistakable, carried by the gentle morning breeze. My head snapped toward the direction of the sound, my heart hammering in my chest.

The bastards were still hunting me.

I shielded my eyes from the sun’s glare, squinting as I scanned the forest floor. Through the shifting shadows, I caught glimpses of movement—three, maybe four men, armed and sweeping the area with calculated precision.

Adrenaline surged, washing away the fog of sleep. If it was a hunt they wanted, it was a hunt they were going to get.

Quietly, I unholstered my Glock, checking the chamber. One mag. One shot for each of them if I didn’t miss. But the knife strapped to my thigh whispered a different promise: silence, precision, and no wasted bullets.

I planned my descent, every move deliberate. They wouldn’t see me coming.

The trees had become my sanctuary and my prison for the last five days. Rain hammered down in relentless sheets, thunder rolling across the sky like some celestial predator announcing its presence. But still, they searched.

There must have been dozens of them, their voices drifting through the storm as they hunted me with a determination that bordered on obsession. And I met them, one by one, with my own.

I’d run out of bullets long ago. The knife became my lifeline. Every movement I made was calculated, every kill methodical. When one was foolish enough to wander too close, I dispatched him however I could. This morning’s first kill was especially crude—I’d hanged him from a branch with my pants.

The torrential downpour had ruined any semblance of order I had left. My hair, once neatly tied in a bun, now clung to my face in a tangled, sodden braid. The heat and humidity forced me to shed my heavier gear, leaving me in a black Under Armour tank top and athletic shorts. My skin was slick with sweat, grime, and blood—some mine, most not.

Five days in the wild had stripped me down to my primal core. I moved like a panther through the canopy, silent and lethal, an animal fully embraced by its instincts.

But today was different. Today, they didn’t come.

I crouched high in the branches, waiting for their usual patrol to stumble into my territory, their boots crunching on leaves and twigs. But the forest was silent, save for the distant chirp of insects. They didn’t get to see my latest handiwork, their comrade swinging grotesquely from a branch. What a waste.

Hours passed, and my restless vigilance turned toward the base. From my elevated perch, I surveyed it from every angle I could find. The once-bustling compound appeared eerily quiet, its defense towers unmanned, its gates closed but unguarded.

Had I really killed that many of them?

I stopped counting after the first twenty, the numbers blending into a haze of survival and savagery. Yet, the stillness of the base felt unnatural. My instincts screamed at me that something was off.

Was this their play? Lure me into the open, make me believe I’d won, only to ambush me the moment I crossed their threshold?

I stayed in my perch until night fell, the dark forest cloaking me as I watched the base with unblinking eyes. Not a single sound or sign of movement betrayed its quiet facade.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, I’d move. Whatever trap they’d laid, I’d spring it on my terms. I’d come this far, and I wasn’t about to stop now.

The darkness of the early morning clung to the Earth like a heavy blanket as I woke, my body stiff and aching. Time was an abstract concept now, measured not in hours but in the beats of survival. I had no idea what hour it was, but my instincts screamed that it was time to move.

For the first time in days, I descended from the trees, my bare feet hitting the damp ground. My white socks, now stained a dark, rusty brown and torn from wear, clung to my skin. Blood from splinters soaked through the fabric, but the pain was a distant memory, drowned out by the adrenaline coursing through me.

I navigated to the access point Tate and I had initially scouted. Memories of him flickered briefly, but I shoved them down. Grief was a luxury I couldn't afford.

Pressing my back against the wall beside the entry, I strained my ears for any sound of movement. Nothing.

I slipped inside, letting the shadows envelop me as I moved through the corridor. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the soft scuff of my feet and the occasional drip of water from the ceiling.

At an intersection, I heard footsteps. A single patrolman.

Lowering myself into a crouch, I waited. The man came closer, his boots echoing faintly against the walls. He was mere steps from me when I peeked around the corner. He had turned his back.

Seizing the opportunity, I leapt onto him, my legs locking around his waist like a vice. His rifle discharged a single, deafening shot as I plunged my knife into his neck. The body crumpled, lifeless, and I rolled off him, pressing my back against the wall once more.

The gunshot was a beacon, and I knew it.

The first wave of hostiles came swiftly, their shouts echoing down the hall. I fired on the two charging straight at me, their bodies collapsing in a heap. The darkness became my ally, shrouding me as I maneuvered through the corridors.

One unlucky man tripped over my outstretched foot. Before he could regain his footing, I drove my knife into his skull with a sickening crunch.

Then came the brute. His arms clamped around my waist like iron bands, lifting me off the ground. I thrashed and grunted, struggling against his grip, but exhaustion sapped my strength. His helmet gleamed in the dim light, impervious to my blade.

Desperation took over. I swung my head back, baring my teeth, and latched onto his throat with feral ferocity. Blood filled my mouth as I tore into his flesh, the taste metallic and bitter. The man gurgled and released me, collapsing as his life drained away.

I spat the flesh from my mouth and wiped the blood from my chin, ignoring the sticky warmth that soaked into my shirt. Picking up the keycard that had fallen from his pocket, I pushed forward, each step heavier than the last.

The base loomed ahead, its corridor dimly lit. Pressing my ear to the final door, I heard voices—two of them, close but not alarmed.

Swiping the keycard, the reader beeped softly. The voices stopped.

I hesitated, waiting for movement, but none came.

With a sharp inhale, I shoved the door open and launched myself at the nearest man. My knife found his eye, sinking deep before I ripped it free. Using his body as a shield, I advanced as bullets tore into the corpse. Blood sprayed onto me as I pushed forward, shoving the body onto the second man and firing.

Panting, I stood amidst the carnage. My heart hammered in my chest, but I pushed on, methodically clearing room after room. My reflection in a shattered window caught my eye—a vision of blood, sweat, and grime. A monster.

I reached the final floor, the noise of activity buzzing like a hive. Voices and footsteps filled the air, too many to face head-on. Crouching behind crates, I picked them off one by one, my knife painting the walls with red.

Cracking open a door, I froze at the sound of Russian.

"Кто это? Кто там?"

They were here for him. Protecting him.

Barkov.

The thought made my grip tighten on the rifle. Steadying myself, I kicked the door open and unleashed a storm of bullets. Bodies fell, and I ducked behind cover, playing a deadly game of cat and mouse until the room was silent once more.

A single shot rang out, searing into my bicep. My arm fell limp, the rifle clattering to the ground. Gritting my teeth, I crawled to a fallen pistol, gripping it awkwardly in my left hand.

The final man groaned, dragging himself toward the wall, blood staining his uniform.

"Barkov." My voice, raw and broken, cut through the air.

His eyes met mine, defiant even in defeat. "I'm still here. Still alive... Killing rats. I am Russia's protector. I will never surrender to you."

He spat blood onto the floor, his voice a rasping mockery. "If you're going to end me, do it quickly... киска."

I crouched beside him, the barrel of my pistol hovering near his head. My bloodied face twisted into a grim smile.

"You don’t get to rush this."

I slumped against the wall, every nerve in my body frayed to its limits, staring at the grotesque heap that was once Barkov. His mangled corpse lay sprawled behind me, a testament to the nightmare I’d clawed my way through.

The radio sat on the table, silent and lifeless, mocking me with its lack of response. I fiddled with the dials, patching wires and flipping switches with trembling hands. The static buzzed faintly, a maddening sound that fueled my desperation.

Gripping the mic, I cleared my throat and spoke, my voice raw and gravelly.

"Base, this is Dawson. Barkov's KIA."

The only reply was the cold hum of static.

"Dawson to Base, does anyone copy?" My voice cracked as I tried again. Still nothing.

I slammed my fist against the table, the sharp pain barely registering. "Goddamnit! It's fuckin' Dawson! Does anyone co—"

"We hear you loud and clear, Dawson."

The voice cut through the static like a lifeline. Relief washed over me so quickly I could’ve wept.

"How are you still alive? How are you reaching us?" the voice asked, tinged with disbelief.

I shook my head, a shaky smile breaking through the exhaustion. "Details later. Barkov's done... Need immediate evac..."

"Sending a hawk to your location now. Medical?"

The tears came then, unbidden and unstoppable. A flood of relief.

"Please," I choked out, my voice breaking.

"ETA 20 minutes. Hang tight, D."

"Copy, over."

"Over 'n out."

The line went dead, but the words echoed in my mind like a hymn. I slumped to the floor, my body giving way to exhaustion as laughter bubbled up uncontrollably. It wasn’t joy—it was hysteria, raw and unfiltered, spilling out as I stared at Barkov’s broken, eviscerated form. The absurdity of it all hit me at once. I’d survived. I’d killed him. I was alive.

Minutes felt like hours as I waited, the silence broken only by my labored breathing. Then I heard it—the unmistakable whir of the helicopter’s blades cutting through the night. The sound grew louder, vibrating through the walls as it landed on the roof.

Dragging myself to my feet, I made my way up the stairwell, every step a herculean effort. As I pushed open the door to the rooftop, the rotor wash whipped at my sweat-drenched skin. The bright floodlights of the helicopter illuminated the rooftop, casting long, eerie shadows.

Three soldiers disembarked, their boots hitting the ground with purpose. They advanced toward me, but the moment they caught sight of me, they froze. Their faces said it all—shock, horror, disbelief.

I could only imagine what they saw: a blood-soaked, grimy figure, drenched in sweat and covered in cuts and bruises, with dried blood streaked across my mouth and shirt. My hair hung in disarray, and my eyes, sunken and wild, met theirs with an intensity that even I didn’t recognize.

One of them finally stepped forward, his voice hesitant. "Jesus Christ, Dawson... What the hell happened to you?"

I let out another laugh, dry and hoarse, as they helped me onto the helicopter. Collapsing into the seat, I looked back at the base one last time as the chopper lifted off, its blades slicing through the air.

What the hell happened to me?

I survived.

panther mlist

[darqx]

Upgrading the 'polaroid magnet' idea of 2019 for 2023's Xmas card trades, these ones are made from wood and use actual magnets! Luxurious! |D All the poses are also referenced from actual party photos i've taken of other people, to add to the candid vibe lol.

The dreamcatcher is kind of a gag gift (yes the craft project i reffed here) for some friends. Since they don't have the ability to fight their nightmares i have offered to [try and] do it for them XD

Made from: Wooden craft polaroid (plus some backing MDF pieces), magnet, misc decorating items (glitter, wooden shapes, gel pens, paint etc). The dreamcatcher is just a storebought one with laminated paper mes wired to it

[suntails]

🐙⚔️

[luna-the-cretar]

YOU KNOW WHAT I JUST FUCKIN REALIZED

Out of the 4 Avantris lizard men, we have 2 that have fuckin Voodoo shadow magic (both of which, coincidentally, are played by Richie—Mr ‘lizardfolk warlock that I’m pretty certain work under the same being’), and 2 that have fire magic (Taishen—who is coincidentally played by Mace and ends up acting like a walking lighter anyway—and Sarnax)

And also, course, Sarnax and Kremy with their red Yonan boyfriends who have a tendency to run hot because of their respective heritages

[yippieitsarven]

yokai watch oc...

I've decided I'm keeping my oc stuff to this account EEK!!! just because I can... This is umm Cupifail'd and he's a loser yokai in love with another loser yokai (Casanono) He's a B-rank, water attribute yokai, in the Shady tribe.. He's got a skill called "unloveable" that is just the same as Casanono's "unpopularize", a skill that decreases your chances of befriending yokai ^_^ Doodles below

I love them a lot... Very special to meee... Guys who're supposed to hate each other and don't wanna admit they're falling in love..

[bean-chaa]

today i offer you crap sketches, tomorrow? who knows (probably nothing)

[protagonist-art]

okay question. how did webby get an american accent... where did it come from

[muchmossymess]

okay but the unexplored potential of a revali and purah dynamic

revali is so keen to be the best of the best and push himself past all conceivable limits, and purah wants to find the limits of sheikah tech and magic only to barrel past them and nearly become god

so one day, purah comes to revali "how high can medoh fly?" and he pauses bc he hasnt thought about that much, which he realises is asinine how has he not thought of taking her higher "well her resting altitude is x but its possible to go higher, though i dont know her limits" and they just look at each other bc well now they have too know-

and it continues like that, purah coming to revali with questions about medoh or the rito or his wind magic or eventually just requests for assistance "i need you to fly this up there for me, clear out this monster camp, ect ect" and revali loving the attention and the chance to show off, and that hes able to prove himself as truly better (he often tries to rope in the other champions to compare) and purah is loving all the data and the chance to work so closely with a pilot and they both compliment each others personalities quite well, both sassy and intelligent and where purah is overbearing and bubbly revali is insecure and sulky

anyway this is all pre calamity stuff, i want them to be very good friends and cause chaos together and push each other to constantly better each other, and purah would scoff at revalis creative insults but internally laugh and file them away to use later, and revali may act uninterested when purah talks for hours about conclusions shes come to and different approaches they could take hes actually paying complete attention and thinking of ways to use this knowledge in piloting or training

[americano-psycho]

I have to say, I love that Klavier Gavin will raise an objection in court and you have to wait for him to do some air guitar routine, which I'm sure is accurate to the last note, before he even says anything. It makes Ema's disdain for him so much better because if i had to work alongside a man who had to fucking air guitar every time he experienced A Thought I would go out of my way to help the opposition. I'd see him and be like, "Here comes this fucking guy and his stupid fucking air guitar. Rockstar or prosecutor PICK ONE!"

Then, I would see the other guy who is just as annoyed at the sight of Mr. Air Guitar and I would imprint so fucking fast. "This is my brother in arms. We both fight against the tyranny of He Who Air Guitars."

I also love that he's just referred to as a fop so often. Fucking choice.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - The Council

Hey @spotaus !! Get in here :D We going!

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

Also. Did you guys know? We are nearing the end? wild right? We are very close... And then the drabble series is over.

And then it is a matter of time before i take the time to edit everything and make it into an actual series to upload to my AO3.

But that is for later.

For now?

Story time.

*---------------------*

Dream checks the room again. He had been setting things up for this meeting and it is all perfect!

He hears a groan behind him as Red huffs “Dude is more charged than normal.”

Core mutters much softer “I think he is fine? I don’t know why he is… like this.”

Red snorts “He didn’t tell you?”

Core is silent for a bit before speaking even softer “No… he doesn’t really… talk to me anymore.”

Red laughs and says something but Dream can’t quite hear what he says to the child.

Not that it matters. Today is going to be the day!

They just had one more meeting planned!

Ink rushes to his side “Everything is ready!” he grins as he looks around “So… is Blue here yet?”

Dream raises a brow at him “No he is helping some of others get here. Get the news for this meeting around even more…” Dream shoots Ink a look as Ink looks a bit too casual for his taste. Dream may need to start and try wingmanning again but that is for later. After he had time to talk with Ink about this. But most importantly! After this meeting!

This… This is too important.

Dream needs them to be nice to him. Dream promised him he would make sure to do what he can to make sure this went well.

Dream honestly doesn’t even care of the others are comfortable. They just need to be nice to Nightmare. After everything.

He needs it.

So he needs this to be perfect.

He hums as he checks the snacks and the chairs. Enough for everyone. Okay!

Dream smiles and looks around. There are still a few guests missing before he can message the others that everything is ready-

A portal opens and Blue walks out with a happy wave. Classic joins him with a yawn “Why am I here again?”

Blue grins “It is a very important meeting!”

Classic shoots him a glance “I thought I already said I had no interest in like… god decisions and stuff?”

Blue laughs and grins cheeky “oh don’t worry. This is just an announcement! But it is important everyone learns!” and Blue leads him to one of the open chairs. Classic and Red greet each other and talk a bit about hanging out soon.

Dream nods and glances around. Error is already in his spot and seems to make sure people aren’t sitting in some of the seats. All according to plan.

More people show up and everyone gets comfortable. It takes a while longer but then Reaper also shows up with the true hermit out of all of them. Geno looks unamused as he unhappily sits in his own seat. He however does do a two fingered salute towards Error who does one back. Fresh sits down near the other and Geno just shoots him an annoyed look.

Dream does a quick headcount before sending Dust the message before he gets up and smiles “Hey everyone! Thank you all so much for showing up today. I know it was a short notice and appreciate everyone making time.”

Red yawns as he looks bored “Not like much changes for most of us. Timeloops.”

Razz glares at him “Stop being rude!” he huffs and looks expecting at Dream.

Dream smiles as he puts his hands behind him “I have great news! My brother has been found and is well! He and his gang are on their way to speak to all of you.”

Chaos.

And Dream just keeps smiling. He can see Blue snicker and Classic shoot him curious looks. Geno however just looks expecting at Reaper and Reaper grins back at him.

Dream holds up a hand and smiles “I understand some of you are nervous. For this I would like everyone to settle down and listen. Before anything else… I need to tell you a story. One that is from long ago. I need you to remember. Nightmare had been helping the multiverse. We both had duties. Ones we never choice and just tried our best to follow.”

Now… His part.

Dream takes a deep breath as he starts speaking “A long time ago… There was a tree and a guardian. The tree was not just any tree. The tree bore very special fruit. The fruit of legends were told to hold the emotions and magic of the multiverse. The tree had a loyal guardian. Her name had been Nim. She stood guard by the tree every day of her existence. Guarding it as the tree filtered in and out emotions.”

“As time went by. She grew lonely and wished to not be alone. She pulled her magic and used a tiny bit of magic of the tree. With effort she created a small tree spirit, then the tree spirit split of part of itself. Which formed a second spirit. Nim held both beings of magic and emotions and named them. The eldest she named Dream. The younger she named Nightmare.”

Dream had decided against sharing the obvious favouritism of Nim. Not when it would be obvious in subtext. Speaking too directly may just cause them to search for even more hidden meanings. This way they will make their own conclusions.

“She tried to make forms for them but nothing seemed to work. The energies of the two spirits too strong to be contained in any simple form. So she let them exist as they were for now. “

“Then one day… a human came to the tree. Making demands for a fruit to gain its powers. After  along drawn out fight Nim managed to slay the human, but had been mortally wounded herself.”

Dream frowns as he continues the story “In her last moments. She searched the multiverse. And found a form which would fit well enough. A body of a lot of positivity. Strong of will and wants. Motivated. She gave the body to both of us before becoming one with the tree.” as Dream tells the story he can see a few of them frown. Connecting the dots there. The fact that both of them had been giving positive bodies. Bodies that clearly only would fit one of the twin.

Dream takes a deep breath as he continues “The two of us. Were now the new guardians. We would stay with the tree and keep watch. We had a connection to the emotions of the tree and could still feel Nim within.” A moment of silence and then he says the next part “We had been watching and learning for four years after all.”

Clearer frowns. Some clear distress.

Dream continues “And for a while. It was fine. We watched the tree. The tree sheltered us and we slept between the roots. Then one day…” his hands form fists “People settled near the tree. They made a town. A village.”

The hardest part.

“At first they seemed interested and understanding. Being willing to let our tree be and respectful. But… as I spend day after day in the village. helping them as I could. I did not realise that they had a wrong idea of how we were. Who we were. They saw me as the one responsible for the emotions of positivity. They saw Nightmare as the being responsible for negativity.” He makes sure to stare them down. Make them see how similar they had all been to that. How he himself had been similar to those creatures. It is hard to talk about the trauma. To put it into words. But it needs to happen. And he is not going to make them all read the book.

“Over time. They held me responsible for all things positive. Expecting me to do everything. Expecting me to work day after day. Moving things. Planting things. Cleaning things. Because I was supposed to be positivity. I was supposed to help them.” he stares Core down “I was supposed to do just whatever they wanted because that made them happy.” They flinch. Good.

He stares back at the others “My brother? They held him responsible for everything negative. If someone got sick. If the harvest wasn’t good. If someone got a failing grade… if someone died.” He glares “He was never responsible for it. But no one would believe him. And I was unaware.”

He looks to the side for a moment “Then one day. As I was drugged to make sure I slept. They attacked the tree. The very tree my brother was still defending. They ended up mortally wounding him. and in a moment of desperation. He ate an apple.” One second before “We were six.”

Dream sighs as he continues “The apple gave Nightmare powers he was never supposed to have. And he defeated those threatening the tree. I found him after. Still unaware and unknowing. Not having any of the information. I just could not understand why my brother would harm those nice people in the village.” he grins “After all. Why would I see people who make a child work see as evil? If our very mother also decided to give us jobs much larger than we should have ever had?”

He sighs “Our mother was gone. Most of the villagers dead. Nightmare having at this point eaten most of the apples. One remained. I picked it up.” he places a hand on his sternum “My being absorbed it.” He only has one apple. “And with it… that was it. The tree and apples were gone.”

He continues on. Now a lot calmer “Most of what happened after is generally known. I got turned into stone and years went by. My brother, having gotten the powers of a god, took up his role and job as guardian of stability seriously. As that is what the tree had been about. The tree was about keeping balance. And Nightmare, immediately figured out he would have to keep balance now. And he did. He travelled the universe to manually balance everything instead of the apples just doing the work passively.”

And he lets the story end.

Geno frowns at him “And when you broke out. You misunderstood. You didn’t have all the facts yourself and made the very same assumptions those people made in the past. And tried to fix it. only to unbalance things further.”

Dream nods “correct.”

Classic frowns at him as well “So… why share now.”

Dream grins a tiny bit “Because there is one last very important detail that is different between us. My brother, transformed thanks to the apples into who he was and was known as. He gained the powers and form he needed to do his work as god of balance. I myself. First broke out of stone and spend time in our old AU to grow into who I am today before I joined my twin in the multiverse.”

It is Fresh who figures it out first. His glasses change to ‘wait?!’ as he shoots upright “Yo dog you mean?” the others seem to connect the dots themselves.

Dream grins and looks at the door “They are up to date.”

And the door opens.

Killer walks in with a large grin. His arms holding a very tiny skeleton. Nightmare seems to be wearing an oversized hoody. Seems like the gang decided to go for emotional manipulation after all. Oh well. That is their choice.

Silence as Killer walks over to the table and pulls a chair out. Cross joins his side and puts down a bit of a booster seat. Nightmare pulls a face and looks unhappy. Killer chuckles and grins at him “Sorry tiny boss. It is either the booster or lap.” Nightmare stares at the chair and sighs but nods.

Killer puts him in his seat and Nightmare is still clearly a bit too short for the table but it works. Killer sits next to him and Cross joins Killer’s other side. Dust sits on Nightmare’s other side and checks him. Nightmare pulls a face again but Dust just makes sure that Nightmare is comfortable.

Dream smiles brightly as the others all stare “Nightmare. Never grew past the age of six. The age he had been mortally wounded. Meaning. That when the apples disappeared. He returned to that age.”

Dream honestly thinks this is going very well.

--

The meeting eventually got started and Dust only watches bored. Everyone had asked the normal questions and Dream had kept the conversation going. Reinforcing that yes. The gang are now Nightmare’s guardians and will remain his guardians. Nightmare had picked a new domain for his godhood and what it had included.

Meanwhile Dust just kept busy with Nightmare. Nightmare had very quickly looked bored and muttered that he was happy they never wasted their time with this stupid meeting. Dust had snorted because he could see that some of the others had visibly melted at Nightmare’s soft spoken voice.

Lavander specifically had seemed ready to launch himself across the table. Especially as Killer had just smirked at him and nodded as if he confirmed something.

Dust however just checks Nightmare as Nightmare works on some of his assignments. Nightmare has a tiny adorable thinking frown on his face and he is slowly but surely starting to stick his tongue slightly out in concentration.

Honestly some of the noises and coos are a bit much in Dust’s opinion but he won’t mention it. Nightmare hadn’t noticed and still seemed comfortable and that is what mattered.

Dream smiles brightly “and I believe that concludes the meeting. Any other notes?”

Lavander grins widely and his hand shoots up. waiting.

Dream blinks but smiles “Yes Lavender?”

Lavander grins “Now that this is in the open I can share a bit of knowledge I have had for a while.” One of the others mutters about the whore not knowing anything and Lavander grins wider “A while ago. Killer came by my universe.”

Killer blinks and looks shocked while Dust grins. Oh. This whole thing. Nightmare also looks up a bit more curious. Knowing where this is going.

Lavander continues “Something about bringing a special thank you for someone in my universe. After taking care of a child for a bit before his parents were able to get him back.”

The shocked silence amuses Dust as people shoots Nightmare, Killer and Lavander looks.

Lavander looks smug “I assume. That as god of restoration.” He looks at Nightmare “did… did you make it? the flower?”

Nightmare nods and shrugs as he plays with his pencil with tiny bat motive “Your Grillby was nice and helped me with getting me food. I figured it would be a good payment.” He huffs and looks determined “I don’t do debts.”

Dust thinks someone holds a hand on their sternum and Dust gets it. Nightmare is cute.

Lavander smiles brightly “Thank you. It worked perfectly.”

Blue looks at him curiously “What did it do?”

Lavander grins and looks happy “My universe is no longer in heat. The heat cycles are back to normal and we are rebuilding most things as we speak.” And he grins smugly.

Shocked silence as Outer jumps up “But I thought it was like… part of your AU’s code?” he shoots them a look.

Nightmare shakes his skull and speaks softly “Not exactly. The AU says it had to happen. But the way that actually effected them as chemically and stuff. So. It was able to be fixed because it was already unnatural.” He shrugs and mutters softer “Just needed a cure.”

Killer grins as he nuzzles Nightmare before looking at the other with a dangerous glint in his sockets “Of course Nighty. No worries.”

Dust can see Dream call back the attention to him as he continues for a bit about how they are both still settling in their domains and that they are both still learning. That they aren’t responsible for it but just support the very concept. That everyone still has the responsibility to move on or progress or recover themselves.

Dust watches the rest of the meeting and end go and they all stretch and get up. A few people look at them curiously but only Lavander actually walks over.

Lavander and Killer make some small talk before Lavander looks at Nightmare and coos “man. And here I thought I was jealous of him before. But now? It is unfair that Grillby got to meet you and I didn’t.”

Nightmare shrugs as he leans further against Cross “Tried to not be noticed.”

Lavander nods “Fair enough. Probably stressful enough to suddenly lose power. Much less try to navigate multiverse politics. Either way… Thank you. For fixing things. I know it was a thank you but still. Thank you so much.” He smiles

Nightmare blinks and looks to the side before muttering it was just a thank you and not to worry about it. Lavander laughs softly but nods as he walks away with a wave. Off to talk to some of the others.

Dream ends up walking up to them and asking if he and Nightmare can relax for a bit. After a few looks Cross hands Nightmare over to Dream. Who hugs his brother and takes him outside to relax under one of the many trees to just enjoy the environment and sights.

Dust will remain near of course. Just in case.

But Dream and Nightmare eventually both fall asleep. Dream holding Nightmare close and Dsut knows Nightmare is happy and comfortable.

And well.. That was the goal.

To make sure that Nightmare is safe. So he can be happy and comfortable.

*---------------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

[sai-int]

MILITARY PERSONNEL FILE

NAME: Dawson, Beatrice           

ALIASES: Panther, Dawson, Bea

HOME ADDRESS: [REDACTED]

HEIGHT: 5'5           

BIRTHPLACE: [REDACTED], Georgia, USA

WEIGHT: 141.3 Ibs           

DOB: MAY, 1995 (27Y/O)

BLOOD TYPE: O- (UNI DONOR)         

RANK: Sergeant First Class - Platoon Sergeant EST. 2022

RACE: W            

DATE ENLISTED: OCT. 2012

NEXT OF KIN: N/A

SCHOOLS ATTENDED: Airborne, Ranger, AMWS, AASLT, JOTC, SERE

SKILLS & SPECIALIZATIONS: Fire Support Specialist (MOS 13F), Covert Reconnaissance, Hostage Rescue, Counterterrorism, Weapons Handling, Guerrilla warfare, Helicopters, Negotiation, Combative level 3

NOTES: Accuracy, Stealth, Proficiency in Speed, Works best alone/in small groups, Highly Intelligent, 75TH RANGER REGIMENT, Ranger tab & scroll

AWARDS: Purple Heart, 2 Silver Stars, Legion of Merit, Distinguished Service Cross.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Hand placement 👀 they're not actually holding hands ⬅️ says the animators back in the day

I just finished season 4 and I'm so excited for season 5 & rewatching 97

charles babe i just need you to swap your left and right hands ok dont ask why idc if your thumbs are switched too just please close your left hand

[boombloxxers]

-> Okay. Awesome. Stress has been high and Valk decided to take a trip to his favorite faction, Playground! He had double, triple and even quadruple checked that his brother could be okay before he scooted off, leaving him to now wander the colorful noisy streets. - @microphone-idol

{ Meanwhile, Boombox lounged on the roof of a nearby building, propping his elbows up on his gear, playing hip-hop and doomscrolling as usual.

[svenskjavel]

Från kulturmarxister på fb <3

Bästa jag sett hittills

[uldren-sov]

more evidence of Marazhai having a completely normal one and confessing to be completely normal since meeting the rogue trader

he does have some great little villain monologues though lol

[mossyflower33]

Day 3: Favorite Arc.

That was close.