#Rain world and portal community:

[much-significant-harassment]

I said I'd fucking do it bitch

#Somebody give me their rw glados design ROGHT TF NOW I'm boutta make one but that will take so much time and I must draw these two #Makin it Sloppy style #rain world #portal #portal 2 #shitpost #crackship #rw shipping #What should this be called #Rain world and portal community: #Fuck you<3 #interdimensional toxic robot yuri

[harpyco]

Dark Skies

Runa gazed upon the dark crimson skies as the red shards rained down to the islands of the Sanctuary Islands. Well… it isn’t safe anymore. It had already been ravaged by red shards. Of course, shard events happen all the time, but this is different. Eden constantly erupted red shards. The skies had been dark for weeks ever since that great disaster.

Hey, I guess I gonna introduce my au?

Info down here cuz it’s long ⬇️

After the skyfolk saved all of the spirits, the Sky Kingdom began to heal. They built a community on every realm except for the Eye of Eden. The shards are still a problem, but they always cleanse them. They had peaceful lives for years, but eventually, everything went down.

The Eye of Eden unexpectedly erupted an alarming amount of red shards all over the realms, destroying everything. By far, the most disastrous shard event in history. Skyfolk tried their hardest to cleanse as much as they could, but Eden constantly erupted. Their homes were destroyed and many of the skykids died and never returned, while others became corrupted. Those who died were unable to return to the Orbit.

Survivors took refuge within the Vault, but even that would not last long. One fellow skykid came and told the others that they found a portal hidden in the Vault. No one knows where this portal leads to, but they hope that it will bring them somewhere safe. So they entered the portal.

The first sight was the open grassland that looked much like Daylight Prairie and yet different. Soon enough, they discovered that they couldn’t return back to the Sky Kingdom. With no other choice, they gathered themselves to investigate this unknown world which seems to be inhabited by unknown creatures and living spirits?

(I rewrote this three times to make this look good and not weird.)

(I originally called this au “New Home au”. But how about you? Do you have better suggestions or is this good enough?)

#sky children of the light #sky cotl #that sky game #thatskygame #skyblr #sky cotl fanart #sky cotl oc #sky kid #skykid #sky kid art #sky oc #sky au #sky cotl au #fanart #digital art #art #my art #oc: Runa #I had a very old art of Runa #and she hasn’t changed much except I added a ribbon for her

[unculturedmamoswine]

Forduary 2024, Week 3: Portal Years

For week three, I finished a fic I've been working on for a while: 30 short fics, one for each year ford was lost in the multiverse. Each fic is based on a prompt from this prompt list. The fics are in the order of the prompt list, but I did number them based on chronology.

Warnings for violence, minor character death, some drug use, and some cursing

12. scrosciare - the action of rain pouring down or of waves hitting rocks and cliffs

Ford leaned against the jagged wall of his little cave, staring out over the raging sea. Rain poured down, streaming off the cliff face and into the water below. The world was gray; the dark shining stone, the grim clouds, the crashing waves that pounded the rock. Even the sound was gray: the dull rushing roar of the sea.

His cave was little more than a pitiful hollow cut into the cliff face. If he hunched over enough he could avoid scalping himself on the cave roof. If he kept his knees up against his chest he had just enough room inside to press back against the farthest wall and avoid the rain. His temporary shelter was a hundred feet above the waves, so he would have to do his best to not fall from his roost.

Avoiding the water was ultimately pointless, as Ford was already only one rung up from soaked. But he was a furless mammal, and avoiding the cascading rain made him feel like had some measure of control over his situation. At least he was warm; whatever he’d been drinking at that bar had done wonders on his hypothalamus, which was great considering he’d had to flee into the stormy night from a white-haired assassin most likely sent by Bill or his agents.

He’d gotten what he’d come to this planet to get. Or this universe, rather– he couldn’t rule out the possibility that he’d entered into a universe that, in lieu of planets, had only a single unbroken coastline stretching into eternity. In any case, the tiny implant he’d had installed into his brain would provide him with the information he needed to find a stable power source for his quantum destabilizer. He just needed to sleep for it to take effect before it was broken down and processed by his body.

It had been hours since he’d heard evidence of his pursuer, and Ford needed to get to sleep sometime in the next five or his temporary implant would dissolve before it had the chance to tell him anything. He let his head fall forward, forehead hitting his knees. He closed his eyes, the world going from gray to black, and tried to let the static roar of nature (or this world’s version of it) lull him to sleep.

6. aspectabund - letting emotion show easily through the face or eyes

“Don’t look him in the eyes, Borgith!” snapped Shhhessh, smacking its companion on the back of the head with spindly yellow fingers. “It’s a faux pas on Human-ka to communicate telepathically!”

“Sorry! I’m sorry, human,” Borgith dropped its gaze, possibly a contrite gesture, but most likely to avoid looking Ford in the eyes. Its mouth pulled down into an unmistakable, human-like frown.

“It’s no problem, I appreciate your willingness to leave my mind alone.” Ford hoped he didn’t sound as tense as he felt. The beings of Rennik-ka were kind and scientifically minded, but being surrounded by yellow mind-readers was not good for Ford’s long-term psychological well-being. “And my planet is named Earth, actually.”

Shhhessh turned its beautiful, luminous pink and turquoise eyes to Borgith, making a triumphant noise and doubtless communicating wordlessly with it through their species’s telepathy. Borgith beamed back at its companion, and, without turning toward Ford, said “Ground? The dirt? That’s what your planet’s named after? Wonderful! That’s actually very very common! We here, the Rennik, are actually statistically unlikely to have named our planet after ourselves!” The alien took a small device from the length of brown fabric it wore wrapped around its torso. “Can I record this? As a linguist, getting an audio recording of your voice would just be–!” It turned to look at Ford, who snapped his gaze down to the ground immediately. Having his mind inadvertently scanned and rifled through by Shhhessh and three or four diplomats had been bad enough.

“Oh, hsst, I’m so sorry! I’m normally so much better with alien customs. Look, I’ll do better, really!”

“Right. Yes.” Stanford took a steadying breath. “Audio recording is fine.” He stared just past Borgith’s head, seeing its enormous green-blue eyes and almost comically expressive face out of only the corner of his eyes.

“Great!” Its eyes bulged happily and it touched the smooth surface of the device, which gave no outward indication as it began recording.

“Can I ask a question about the Rennik?” Ford asked, suspecting he knew the response he’d receive. These people had been nothing but forthcoming with him so far.

“Of course,” gushed Borgith. “Oh, Shanford, you have no idea how thrilling it is to have an alien appear out of the nothingness into our world! And to have you be a scientist, too!” Borgith broke off, making a low noise like a distant foghorn.

“Try to calm down, Borgith,” advised Shhhessh. “If you tire out the human, you won’t be allowed back. It needs its rest. And that’s not its name, either.” Shhhessh radiated censure underscored with amusement, its proboscis twitching. It was Ford’s temporary guard/escort/valet as far as Ford could tell. Its day job was as an electrical engineer, though, so Ford wasn’t completely sure how this appointment worked. He did know, though, that Shhhessh was responsible for getting Ford into the nice soft bed he’d been recovering in for the last several days, so he was inclined to like it.

Ignoring the mispronunciation of his name, Ford asked “If you communicate telepathically through eye contact, why do you have such expressive faces? By all rights I, as an alien, shouldn’t be able to even interpret– oh I see.” Realization dawned. “The telepathy is constant, and low-level. You communicate directly via eye contact to access direct thoughts, but you’re always putting out what you feel! That’s fascinating!”

“Yes!” cries Borgith, grabbing enthusiastically at Shhhessh. “Yes, that’s it precisely! Oh, human, you are something else!” 

Ford felt, for the first time in at least five or six years, the joy of sharing a purely intellectual connection with another being. It wasn’t sullied by the fear of being found out or the dirty connotations that come along with using science only to further his cause of destroying Bill. This was pure, knowledge for knowledge’s sake.

Recklessly, as if he was simply sharing an insight with Fiddleford, he let his eyes meet Borgith’s.

It was like being hit by a train. He was flattened, bowled over, breathless with pain and shock, the entirety of his mind spread out before Borgith, who looked. Borgith who saw. No matter how he tried, Ford couldn’t pull any part of himself away from the mind that was suddenly inside his own.

It was the same as the other times the Rennik had accidentally crushed his mind, except that it was different the way they’d all been different. Borgith was curiosity, endless enthusiasm, joy, and fulfillment. Shhhessh had been caution and a love of the familiar, Gre had been quiet contemplation and a desire for universal siblinghood, etc, etc. They’d all been different, all individuals, but Ford couldn’t see the details of their conscious thought or their immediate emotions, just their general personalities.

In less than a second, Borgith, though, had scraped Ford’s mind flat so that every part of it was visible and had seen Ford laughing with Stanley in their room; cupping his hand over his nose, which was pouring blood; cradling a plaidypus gently in his arms and kissing its naked little head; tearing his fingernails into his own arm so he could stay awake, can’t sleep, Bill will be there–!

Ford was wonderfully alone in his aching head in an instant as Borgith broke away. He felt his muscles twitch, senseless little impulses being sent through his nerves like the aftershocks of a really good orgasm, but in a decidedly unpleasant way. His head swam and his stomach revolted as a wave of remorse and dismay pummeled him from the direction of Borgith. He wondered if he could get better at tolerating the horrifying invasion of his mind long enough to see back into the minds of the Rennik, learn more about their science and their culture.

As he curled on his side and began to retch, Ford decided it probably wasn’t worth it.

27. pyrrhic - won at too great a cost

Ford swung his gun toward the fleeing back of the pirate and squeezed the trigger. It kicked back satisfyingly. He’d added that effect himself, too familiar with Earth guns not to appreciate a solid recoil. The blue bolt flew into and through the fleeing woman(?) dissolving a hole in her(?) torso. She dropped onto the purple dust of the craggy moon, Ford’s stolen backpack still clutched in her fist.

What was left of her band of compatriots hesitated as they heard Ford’s shot. They stared in horror at her corpse and dashed back immediately toward her, but not in the hopes of rescuing her. They wanted Ford’s bag. They wanted the bounty he’d collected bringing an interstellar criminal to justice. Somewhat hypocritical of him, seeing as he was accused of worse crimes than the man he’d captured.

Still, the bounty was his and he wasn’t going to let these scavengers steal it from him. He leapt over the body of the gigantic man who’d first grabbed him, aiming at the two pirates hustling toward their dead friend who’d taken Ford’s bag. He had no real hope of hitting them while dashing over the uneven ground, but at least his shots might keep them from reaching the body first.

The one in blue and black armor finally thought to use his weapon, stopping to fire at Ford. It shot some kind of projectile rather than an energy pulse, but he was no better at aiming at a moving target than Ford was at aiming while running. 

Once he was close enough, Ford took a bounding leap for Blue Armor, the paltry gravity of the moon making Ford light enough for an impressive jump. Blue Armor’s eyes widened behind his visor. He must not have much experience as a heartless murderer, as he didn’t raise his weapon to protect himself at all. New on the job, perhaps? “Hah!” Ford said, bringing his gun to bear and shooting the man in the head.

The two remaining pirates knelt briefly by the body of the dead woman and stumbled to their feet, the one in yellow and black now holding the bag containing the bounty.

They fled for their ship as Ford advanced, firing off another shot. His weapon began to chirp a warning about overheating, which he ignored.

He fired again, watching the pirate with the maroon armor collapse as her hindquarters sizzled and slowly dissolved. She must have screamed over her suit’s comms, as the yellow-and-black armored pirate put a hand to his ear.

The final thief had reached the shadow of his ship. “Damn it!” growled Ford. He’d never reach the man in time on foot. He raised his weapon, aiming carefully, but when he squeezed the trigger the gun gave a pitiful whine and sounded its warning chirp again.

Ford cursed. He watched, panting in exhaustion, as the pirate boarded his small vessel. His face, unhelmeted, appeared in a porthole to watch Ford as his ship lifted off, slowly accelerating away. Ford grimaced around at the bodies of the slain pirates. They’d nearly all been killed in the effort of stealing what was rightfully Ford’s.

“I hope it was worth it,” he muttered bitterly.

9. rubatosis - the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat

Ford swayed on his booted feet. The heat of the marketplace was overwhelming, or perhaps it was a symptom of his illness. Or a side-effect of the cure, which was untested on humans.

The color palette of the world seemed to shift as he watched, pulsing slowly from blue-tinged to yellow and back again. His hands shook uncontrollably, and his heart thudded distractingly in his own ears. Had it always had that unsteady rhythm? He hoped it wouldn't stop altogether. At that thought, the off-kilter thumping increased in speed and volume, drowning out the noise from the crowd of merchants, customers, and various aliens come to gawk at the wares on display.

Overwhelmed by the color and noise, Ford forgot his mission and fled, escaping the way he’d come. He wiped his sleeve over his running nose. Was it blood? Was he dying? He couldn’t die, Bill Cipher was still out there! Maybe this was all Bill, Perhaps Ford wasn’t sick at all, was instead still trapped alone in Gravity Falls and this was all a convincing dream Bill had crafted for him.

Ford wanted to cover his ears to block out the noise, but he knew it was coming from within himself.

He staggered into the darkest alley he could find and curled against a blessedly cool wall. Ford sat and wrestled with his fear, heartbeat thundering in his ears.

16. trepverter - a witty response or comeback you think of only after it’s too late to use

“You’ve not seen the last of me, filthy biped!” snarled the gigantic crocodilian monster, snapping its immense jaws, now short one or two teeth.

“Well, I… certainly hope I have!” Ford shouted back. He winced at his lame retort as his enemy’s ten-foot gray tail slapped contemptuously against the surface of the water. It sank out of sight as a large wave splashed over Ford’s head, knocking him down.

Spluttering, Ford struggled to his feet and cast around, hoping Grollo was alright. His gaze fell on his companion, who was tugging something from the sandy muck as seawater streamed around them, rushing back down the shore.

“It broke my crossbow, Ford,” said Grollo, waving the weapon’s broken stock at Ford.

“Well, I’m sorry about that, but we got the teeth, didn’t we?”

“Yeah.” Grollo raised two long, glowing blue fangs in one fist. “Two reality-warping dino chompers for your science pleasure.”

“Great!” Ford took one from her. “Hmm, yes, this is perfect! You can keep one, if you like,” he told her distractedly. “I only need one.”

“No kidding? Thanks, that rocks. What’s wrong?” Ford had just groaned and slapped his sandy palm to his face.

“That thing! The monster!” he moaned. “What, what about it?” Grollo demanded.

“I should have said ‘see you gator!’ You know, like ‘see you later’?”

“Okay,” said Grollo, implying with just one word that Ford was a complete moron. “Well. I guess you can’t win ‘em all.”

20. hiraeth - a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past

It wasn’t easy, being away from his home planet for so long. Stanford missed the smell of familiar flowers and trees, missed eating food he recognized and knew wouldn't kill him. There was nothing like exploring the cosmos, true, and he’d learned more about esoteric and hidden branches of science than he ever could have on his Earth. But… well, Ford’s occasional bouts of melancholy longing for the familiar would have shamed his younger self. Stanford at fifteen, or at twenty-five, would never have wanted to be bound to the ordinary, the average, the comforting.

Now, Stanford at forty-five had mostly shorn away the parts of himself that desperately wished to return to his home, but it seemed that there was always some insidious thread of longing ready to strangle him if he let his guard down.

He stood in the streets of a New Jersey not his own. This Earth was a lot like the one from which Ford hailed, other than all the dinosaurs. How weird that the architecture created by gigantic reptiles was almost identical to that created by relatively small mammals.

The cars looked different. Did cars in his own world look like that now, or was this just the way cars looked for dinosaurs? Would Ford ever find out? Would he ever stop wanting to? If he ever could return to his dimension, would it be recognizable? Things changed, and Ford hadn’t been home in fifteen years.

And Jersey wasn’t his home, regardless. His home had been Gravity Falls. What had become of his lab, his house? Had Fiddleford returned there to salvage any of his research? Doubtful. Most likely Stanley had taken as much expensive-looking equipment as he could carry and left the place behind to rot.

It was entirely possible that, if Ford could return home at all, home as Ford knew it no longer existed.

7. resfeber - thrill felt before an adventure

“Okay.” Ford dumped his supplies onto the table in front of him, barely able to restrain his broad grin. The flickering light of the magical orb overhead illuminated a handful of equally anticipatory faces. “I’m here. I’m ready.” It had been so long. Tonight he would embark on the adventure of a lifetime.

“Glad you could make it,” said Sil, amused. “Not sure how likely we are to succeed without your help.” They gave a sidelong look at their friend, a large, guilty-looking man.

“Don’t blame me, the last time wasn’t all my fault. You all just have terrible luck,” he said, scratching a long green ear.

“Terrible luck and nobody who can cast spells,” said a small, soft-spoken being named Lyle. “Arithaa would still be alive if Ford had been here the last time we tried to break in.”

“I know, I’m sorry, Lyle,'' said Sil’s large friend.

“Yes, it’s sad and everything,” said Ford impatiently. “But you can just make a new character.” “I did,” said Lyle, “but I liked Arithaa! She had a cool backstory that I’d been saving for the perfect character!” He grinned suddenly. “But I do love making new ones. I have like five backups for if my next one dies.” Lyle waved his character sheet in the air. “So I’m all set.”

“Alright then!” Sil rubbed their hands together, and Ford felt the electric energy of a game about to start. “Let’s storm a castle, kids!”

28. apricity - the warmth of the sun in the winter

Ford hummed in pleasure and turned his face toward the warmth. The twin suns of this planet kept the winter chill at bay and glowed red-yellow through his eyelids. Ford had been on-planet for a month and the weather hadn’t noticeably changed one way or another, so he supposed it might not actually be winter. For all he knew it was midsummer, or this part of this planet had no meaningful seasons.

He breathed deeply, noticing that his breath didn’t catch. His lungs didn’t burn. His ribs didn’t ache, or feel at all as if they’d been reconstituted from the mealy pulp they’d been when he’d been injured. (His mind skittered away from the occasion that had caused the injury. Best not to think of that. He would live, was living. That was what counted.)

When he’d left his temporary home, eager to test his now-healed body, he’d crunched through the icy top of the snowpack, but had had no difficulty in maintaining a brisk pace out to this clearing. His muscle tone had rebounded well, and if his hips ached a little, well, they’d done that before… the incident. He was getting older, after all. Still, he was well again. It was nearly time to move on, time to renew his dedication to his quest.

But for a few moments more, Ford sat in the rich warmth of foreign suns, and breathed.

15. messaline - soft lightweight silk with a satin weave

Ford felt he had disappeared into the background of the town, cloaked in purple fabric of a color he couldn’t describe. Well, it was purple, but the shade was so rich that he thought it merited a better descriptor than that. Pale… eggplant? Violet? No, those didn’t do it justice. Simply put, it was beautiful.

Gently, unseen, he wound his fingers into the light, soft fabric that enshrouded him from head to toe. It was like nothing he’d ever felt. If they had fabric like this on Earth, he’d never been able to touch any, much less wear it. Here, it was expected garb for every being that could reliably walk under its own power.

This backwater little town, hidden among towering, green-black trees, housed a university that was home to one of the most respected time science programs in local universes. Ford was here to learn what they could teach him.

A sudden gust of wind caused his, and everyone else’s, clothing to flutter dramatically around them, and amused titters bloomed up and down the street as the bright colors swirled, blurring everyone’s edges. Ford grinned, too. This planet had a lot to recommend it; he hoped he could stay a while.

23. psithurism - the sound of wind rustling leaves

The forest floor was warm underfoot– or underpaw? Ford clambered awkwardly over a large root, stopping atop it to look around. The thick trees and undergrowth limited his field of vision, and in any case he couldn’t see as well as he would have liked. His current eyes didn't see the range of colors he was accustomed to as a human.

Frustrated, Ford lashed his tail and hissed, then glanced around self-consciously, but he was alone.

Hoping to get his bearings, Ford closed his eyes. His sensitive nose told him about the prey animal that had scurried by sometime recently, the decay of the old leaf litter, the dampness of the moss, and the rich bloom of the flowers in the trees. A tug at his whiskers combined with the whisper in his ears told him the wind blew from behind his right ear and forward, to his left. The cry of a distant animal, high and dangerous, made his pelt, uh, hair, stand on end.

Clenching his teeth against his fear, Ford leapt down from his perch, surprising himself with his agility and the ease of his landing. He’d jumped down from a height of several times his own body length.

Forward seemed as good a direction as any. Stanford headed through this strange universe, the soft shush of ferns against his fur and the rattling of a few bare branches overhead keeping him company.

The wind picked up, tossing the leaves overhead even more, the sound overwhelming to his delicate ears. The shadows all around seemed somehow to deepen, and Ford realized he couldn’t feel the soft leaves and earth beneath him any longer.

Panicking, Ford thrashed, blinking his eyes open to find himself staring at a bland drop ceiling. Panting, he sat up, using human hands to feel at his legs, arms, his face, with its noticeable lack of whiskers.

Ford huffed and flopped back in bed in his cheap hotel room.

“What a weird dream,” he muttered to himself. Shhhhhh, advised the air conditioner. That was reasonable. Ford rolled over and went back to sleep.

19. lapidoso - full of stones, said of roads or of the bottom of a river

“Shit!” Ford threw the battered dagger onto the workbench. “Another failure! Damn it!”

His ally, whose name he didn’t know for security purposes, said “There’s got to be something you can do with this. Don’t just give up!”

Ford rounded on him. “I’m not giving up, this thing is useless! If there was any kind of ancient mystical power in the blade, this would have found it!” He waved the sensor he’d made under his ally’s nose. “We’ve wasted our time. Two years down the drain.” The words were bitter on his tongue.

Ford’s ally rubbed his face with his hands, tired. “A dead end. After all this time, everything I’ve done was for nothing?” He stared hopelessly into the distance.

“Get used to it. I’ve been hitting dead ends trying to get to Bill Cipher for years now. We’ll just have to find a different route.” Ford looked at his interdimensional translator, opening up the interface that would show him the weakest points in his current reality and predict where the paths might take him if he broke through. “There’s no point staying here now. If you want to return to your group and let them know what’s happened, feel free.”

Ford worked in silence for a few minutes, wondering if it would badly damage this universe if he tried to jump directly to the Slug World he liked to pass through on his trips. Slugs were good people, and pretty cute. He hadn’t been to their world in at least five years, so it wouldn’t be too much of a security risk to their peaceful universe to be seen there, he thought.

Feeling watched, Ford glanced up. His ally was staring at him oddly.

“What?” asked Ford.

“Just like that? We’ve worked so hard and so long and you’re… over it, ready to move on? How long have you been doing this?”

“Too long,” Ford said shortly. “So here’s some free advice: It’s not easy. It’s never going to be. You have to get over it and do everything you can to keep going, or give up. Bill destroyed your universe, didn’t he?”

Ford’s ally nodded, wrapping his wings around himself in a self-comforting gesture.

“If you want revenge you have to accept that it’s hard going.” Ford eyed the miserable man. “Look, I’m leaving. I have other leads I can follow. This road is a hard one, not everyone is suited to it.” He clapped his ally on the shoulder and pressed a button on his interdimensional translator, stepping down another path.

10. liberosis - the desire to care less about things

“Breathe,” Ford told Journey, holding their head in his lap, tipping their chin back so they might have some chance at catching a breath. His hands shook. There was nothing he could do to combat Journey’s blood loss, and nothing he could do to ease their pain. They would die here, and Ford’s heart broke.

Journey choked and burbled, spasming in pain or fear, their remaining arm grabbing at nothing. Ford caught their hand and held it. How many deaths had he seen over the years? Allies, innocents, even the occasional friend, like Journey. Why didn’t it ever get easier?

“I’m sorry,” he told them. “I’m sorry.” He wished, selfishly, that he could turn off the part of him that cared about them. He wished he could speed forward through time to a point where he could look back at their friendship fondly, with only a pang of guilt or regret. Instead he was subsumed by this full-body experience of grief. His eyes stung, his stomach knotted.

It seemed to take so long but eventually, Journey stilled. Ford clenched their hand tighter, choking himself now, not wanting to let go for the last time.

21. cafune - the act of running your fingers through the hair of someone you love

“My tongue feels really weird,” Ford mumbled to Jheselbraum. He lay slumped against her shoulder; she was carrying him as if he were a small child, one arm under him, the other gently looped around his back.

“Oh, yes?” Her soft, low voice was rich with some emotion he couldn’t place.

“Ugh.” Ford screwed up his face and stuck out his tongue.

“Are you dizzy? Confused?” “...Yes,” Ford realized to his surprise. “I’m not sure where we are.” He pressed his face into a fold of Jheselbraum’s cloak. It smelled strange. Like an alien.

Ford felt as if he floated and spun his way down onto something soft, but when he blinked to clear his eyes, he realized that Jheselbraum must have put him down, as she was now sitting beside him. She met his eyes with all of hers.

“You’re recovering from surgery, Stanford,” she explained, smiling. She reached up and smoothed his hair gently, or so Ford assumed. He couldn’t feel his scalp. "Bill Cipher will no longer be able to possess your body, though be wary– your dreams are still vulnerable to a creature of nightmares. Such is the way with mortals. You're all part dream by nature."

"Oh," Ford said dimly. The Oracle's hand hadn't stopped moving, carding gently through his hair. Even if he couldn't feel it, it was nice in concept.

Searching for something to say, Ford settled on "Your ceiling is nice." It was high and domed, a deep blue that glittered with yellow, white, and pink sparks. "It's like the one on Earth. The sky, I mean."

Jheselbraum hummed, leaning over him, smiling gently.

"Tell me about the sky of your planet, little human," she suggested, hand still moving softly.

Ford wondered if he was imagining the feeling in his head returning. "There's…Orion. The hunter. Not a very nice man, but…great. A hero." Stanford was making less sense than usual. "A constellation," he clarified. His head began to throb distantly. "He died," Ford forced out, "and ended up in the stars."

5. ignipotent - presiding over fire

“Is that real?” The young girl bent curiously over the scraps of paper and spearlike dried plant matter that Ford had just lit. The tiny flame grew, reflecting amber in her brown eyes, lighting her too-thin face.

“We only had the holo kind at home,” she said softly, not moving her gaze from the flames. “It looked nice, but it couldn’t make you warm.” She held out a shaking hand, gently cupping the scrap of warmth as though to protect it from the chill of the early morning.

“It’s real,” Ford confirmed unnecessarily. “Here.” He handed her a chunk of ration bar and a handful of sugar-encrusted insects, then gently fed the fire a couple small twigs.

“Back home… nobody would believe me if I told them I saw a real–” and here Ford’s translator tried to interpret her next word simultaneously as ‘fire’, ‘searcher’, ‘priest’, and ‘life-heart’, whatever that was. “How did you do it?” The girl looked almost afraid to know.

Ford smiled and held out his hand. “It’s a small container of fuel,” he explained. “Liquid that can catch on fire. When you roll this wheel here at the top, it strikes the flint inside. That makes a spark, which ignites the fuel!” He flicked the lighter, a steady flame appearing in his hand. “You close the lid to put it out,” he added, extinguishing the flame.

The girl looked awed at first, then she mirrored Ford’s grin. “That’s so… I don’t know how to even say! That’s the strangest, most wonderful thing!” She clutched her ration bar, too excited to keep eating. “I’ve never even thought of that– fire in your hands!”

Ford laughed. “Keep it,” he said, tossing her the lighter. He put a larger stick on the fire. “When you’re a scientist one day, mention me in your thesis’s acknowledgements.”

 13. balter - to dance gracelessly, but with enjoyment

The glowing moon shone a pink light over staggering, lurching forms. The stocky, lightly feathered humanoid aliens were ranged about in a large, grassy bowl that provided some shelter from the wind, sunk as it was into the sandy earth– or whatever they called the dirt on this non-Earth planet.

Ford smiled, noting in his mental journal that these aliens, though not talented dancers by his human standards, were clearly having quite a time. Delighted hoots and laughter rang through the night, accompanying their loud music. They stamped and staggered out of time, if there even was a time in the long, meandering song that had been playing for the past hour.

The prime minister, identifiable by the crown of blue stones upon his head, stomped over to Ford, offering a metal cylinder full of water. “Please dance, Stanford! This is a ceremony to honor you!”

Ford felt himself blush. The idea of dancing in front of anyone, even these graceless, kind aliens, made him cringe. He felt no different than he had at school dances as a teenager, or the single college party Fiddleford had dragged him to. That is to say, he felt the impending judgment of many people who all seemed to know the secret rules of social interaction that he wasn’t privy to.

“Um,” Ford scrambled for a plausible excuse. “Thank you, Prime Minister, but actually I’m a human, you see. We don’t dance at festivals held in our honor. It’s considered the… height of revelry to simply watch the festivities.” Years of roleplaying in DD&MD came in handy when lying to aliens. It’s harmless, he told himself guiltily. He’ll never know.

The prime minister shook himself, feathers fluffing out briefly before resettling. If that meant something, Ford didn’t know what. Finally the man sighed in defeat and slumped sideways into another dancer, who happily swept him up in a boisterous canter before they both fell, laughing, to the ground.

26. verklempt - completely and utterly overcome with emotion

The two beings smiled at Ford, as well as trees could smile.

“We didn’t think we would see you again, Stanford,” they said. Rather, it should be said that they conferred briefly with one another in order to come to a consensus and then transmitted the detailed concept into Ford’s mind without the messy and inexact middleman of spoken language. “It’s nice that you could come. We hope your fight with your enemy is going well. We hope you’ve killed him.”

“Well, not yet.” Ford shifted the gift in his arms uncomfortably. “But I’m still alive, anyway.” He craned his head down to his shoulder, using it to nudge his glasses higher up on his face. “And it’s nice to see you both again!” He smiled up into his friends’ leafy canopies. High above his head, their branches entwined. “Congratulations! I wasn’t certain of the traditions here, but on my planet it’s customary to bring a gift, so, uh, I’ll just leave this here.” 

Ford dropped the heavy bag at the roots of one of his friends. It didn’t really matter which one it was; they were bonded and were therefore treated as more or less one entity now that they had rooted together. Also, their names were so long that it would take forever to address them if he used them.

“Very kind. You’re a thoughtful meat bag,” they joked after a brief pause to confer. Ford laughed.

“Oh, wow, it’s been years since I’ve heard that one. We were a lot younger, back then.”

“Yes.” Warmth flowed through Ford’s mind to convey his old friends’ happiness. “Barely more than saplings. And now look. We have a sapling of our very own to celebrate.”

“Oh, right! I got her some mulch. The gift.” Ford gestured at the sack on the ground. “It’s, um, supposed to be good for young plants.” He looked around. “Where is she, anyway?”

In answer, Ford felt a tug at his awareness, one little trail of thought nudging him forward. He peered curiously around the bole of one of his friends. A short distance away, still well within the radius of her parents’ root systems, what looked like a tiny stick of pale wood jutted out of the ground.

“Oh,” Ford breathed. Although she was hardly sleeping (trees didn’t sleep, at least not in this dimension) Ford felt an impulse to keep quiet so as to avoid waking her. Now that he saw her, he felt her mind vaguely, floating all around him like a scent or a song.

She didn’t convey direct feelings or ideas in the way her parents could, but even as a leafless stick only as high as Ford’s knee, he could feel her mind. It was undeniable that she was a person, a little being who could so easily have never existed at all.

“Wow,” Ford said. “She’s lovely. What will you call her?”

“We won’t bore you with her long name,” the new parents murmured. “We know how cumbersome they seem to you. But for her short name, we are calling her after you.”

Ford looked from tree to tree, wishing that they had faces he could read. It was hard to perform an emotion when you didn’t know where to aim it. Underneath his shock, Ford’s chest felt constricted with a sort of painful happy pressure.

“I don’t– don’t know what to say.”

A slightly apologetic thrum wound through the next idea that appeared in Ford’s mind: “Actually, we aren’t calling her Ford, exactly. It’s not our way to call a sapling after a tree who still lives.” Ford smiled, blinking rapidly. “It’s the same in my culture.”

"Since you are Stanford but don't use all of your name, we will call her Stan."

Ford opened his mouth, then snapped it shut to hold back the various feelings warring in his chest that wanted to crawl up and out. It was hard not to feel anger, at least a little of it, when he thought of Stan, so that was there. But also there was chagrin that his friends were using his brother’s name to honor him, as well as pride that they thought he was worthy of such an honor. Then too there was the bubbling amusement of his namesake being a female tree, rather than, say, a male human.

Ford removed his glasses.

She was so small, that was all. She was a little tiny thing called Stan and he had had a hard few years.

He just needed a moment or two.

11. cruore - it literally means “flowing blood”

“I’m not dying, Connell, I’m fine!”

“I don’t believe you! You look gross! Your gross red human blood is everywhere!” “If you’d leave me alone I could clean it up!” “You can let me help you! Breathe, that’s the key! I don’t want another corpse in my crew quarters.” “Is that a common problem?”

“Uh. No. No, it’s never happened before. By ‘another’ I meant ‘the first ever!’ That’s definitely what I meant.” “Hmm… Ugh.” “Ah! Stop it, stop bleeding on everything! That’s it, I’m sending some MediBots here to save you!” “I do. Not. Need. Saving! This is not a calamity! Humans bleed sometimes!”

“Stop waving your arms! You’ll make more blood come out!”

“You don’t know. You don’t know what humans are like! Maybe arm movements make our blood stay in.”

“Eck. Blood really should not be that color.”

“If it was any other color I would actually need a MediBot.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s fair. I know everybody’s blood color is normal to them. I’ve watched a lot of sensitivity training videos!”

EMERGENCY EMERGENCY! “Wonderful. Connell, make them go away!” “Are you absolutely certain you don’t need them to plug those holes in you?”

EMERGENCY EMERGENCY! PLEASE COOPERATE!

“I need those holes to breathe! Damn it, get off me!”

ZZAPP

“Oh, Stanford, why? Do you know how long it will take me to repair them? I’ll have to get the maintenance bots up here, and they hate me!”

“I’m frankly not your biggest fan, either.” “You’re rude.” “I’m running on two hours of sleep and my body clearly isn’t tolerating the jump to intra-space, so deal with it. Usually I’m a scintillating conversationalist.”

“Hah hah hah. I know when an organic life-form is being funny. That’s a good one.”

…

“Don’t pout. Look, you’ve almost stopped bleeding!”

“I’m not pouting, I was planning on getting some work done. And yes, as I told you, I’m fine. This isn’t something that will kill or even slightly damage me.”

…

“Stanford.” “What?” “You aren’t bleeding and the MaintBots are coming. Will you pretend to be talking to me when they get here?” “Because they don’t like you?”

“Yes. They think I’m not cool because I don’t have a body. If you talk to me about things, they won’t talk to me. They’ll see that a person with a body likes me, you know? You don’t have to actually like me, though.” “I see. Okay, sure. No problem.” “Oh, great, thank you! Okay, okay. What should we say? Oh! We can talk about your blood! Does it evaporate? Or repel predators?” “Well, not usually. Its main purpose is to transport oxygen around my body.” “Oh, okay! Neat! And why was it coming out of you like that before? Is that common?”

“Nosebleeds happen to humans sometimes. I always get them jumping to intra-space. It’s why I prefer not to travel this way.”

“Ooooh I see. Just some normal, regular bleeding, eh? Just like all the organics do on your planet!” “Uh, well, I wouldn’t say that–”

“Or moon! Or whatever, it’s all cool, it’s all fine by me! You can be from wherever you’re from!”

“I–”

“Gosh, now that I’m getting used to it, I kinda like your red blood! Really pops against that space suit! Man! Wish I could see more!”

“You will. We still have to drop out of intra-space.”

“Great!”

1. marcid - incredibly exhausted

Bill was here; was everywhere that Ford was before he could get there, even in his mind. 

Especially in his mind. 

When he slept, and he would have to sometime, he hoped he wouldn’t dream of Bill, appearing with a laugh and a joke. It’s been fun, Fordsy, but I’m tired of the games! 

Even if Bill wasn’t literally in his mind, he was always metaphorically there. Ford’s years of friendship (why does he still call it that?) with that demon made it easy to conjure Bill’s voice to mock or to threaten.

(And in retrospect, their friendship always had had a high instance of mockery and at least implied threats. How had he been so stupid as to not see Bill’s true self? Could he really have been so pathetically lonely that he was willing to befriend anything that laid in his path, waiting?)

Ford staggered, hugging himself against the cold of this empty place. It was flat and barren, but at least he was out of the Nightmare Realm. He glanced down at his dimensional translator, but his eyes were so bleary that he couldn’t read it. The adrenaline lingering in his system after his flight from Bill was waning. Ford’s boots felt impossibly heavy, and his entire body ached.

He tripped on nothing, toppling to the ground. It was dusty, almost soft. And nobody was around to kill him that he could see. He would rest here, just for a moment, and then carry on.

17. temerate - to break a bond or promise

Ford glanced to one side, to the hulking individual striding along the canal with him. Ford’s… associate, Nere, seemed to think he was successfully leading Ford into a trap. He walked easily and with purpose, leading Ford to the narrow alley where they could complete their deal away from the intruding eyes of the law– and where Ford would be vulnerable to an attack.

Ford didn’t much like illegal deals with unsavory characters, but they were a part of life these days. He tried to smother the grin he felt trying to sneak onto his face. Maybe there was a small part of him that did enjoy the occasional brush with danger. He tightened his grip on the six-foot staff that was the only weapon commoners were permitted in the city as Nere silently gestured for him to enter the alley first. Typical.

“Alrighty,” Nere said with a sigh. “Here we go.” He held up a small case and shook it. It rattled. “Year’s supply is all yours.”

“Presuming I can pay, of course,” Ford said.

“Uh, yeah… that’s kind of the deal,” said Nere, frowning.

“Well, the deal’s off!” Before Nere could speak, Ford whipped his staff at the treacherous man’s wrist, dealing a vicious blow that made him howl and drop the case of pills. Ford dashed forward to grab it, scooping up the case and shouldering roughly past Nere.

“What the fuck, man?!” Nere yelled.

Ford didn’t know it, but as he dashed out of the alley and onto the wider street, fleeing the sounds of Nere’s gang behind him, he was grinning.

4. sweven - a dream

When all the lies and terror and confusion of the multiverse became too much, Ford wished there was some happy memory he could recede to. Not always, not for days or weeks at a time, just for a few minutes.

In the Banjo Dimension, beset by discordant twanging, Ford wished he could summon up the image of Fiddleford’s delight if he were to ever find himself here. But no, Fiddleford was a bridge too thoroughly burned to be a fond memory.

On the pirate planet and sick with an intestinal parasite, Ford could hardly imagine a world in which he had thrilling but never too terrifying seagoing adventures with a version of Stanley that had never existed.

There may have been good times in Gravity Falls, but so much of that was overshadowed by Bill, and by the thoughts that still plagued him– how long had Bill been watching, lying in wait? Would he never have approached Ford if Ford had heeded Modoc’s warning? Had there ever been even a moment that Bill might have considered Ford a true friend?

It was stupid. Stupid of him to try to imagine a world where his life had been different, where he’d made the right choices about who to trust and had never been betrayed.

Ford tried to remember the smaller things to get by, rationing his happy memories: the feel of the sun and the sea air on his face, and never mind who was just off his shoulder; the serenity of a chemistry lab at four in the morning, without the explosion an hour later caused by his roommate’s experiment; the joy of a trek through the woods a mile from his home before he knew anything was out there waiting for him.

22. petrichor - the pleasant smell that accompanies the first rain after a long period of dry weather

Sweat dripped down Ford’s face, rolling down his jaw and falling with a soft pat onto his saddlehorn. He sighed, shifting in the saddle. It had been a long, hot week in the Old West Dimension, and he was tired of it. He liked his horse, though. Pigeon was patient with his inexperience and unaffected by the perils of the trail. Ford leaned forward to pat her on the neck, and a bead of sweat fell this time onto her dappled gray neck. Ford blinked. Did she have more spots all of a sudden?

“Ford!” Ford’s head snapped up. Slim, at the head of the string of riders on the dusty trail that wound up into the hills, waved as if they weren’t sure they had his attention.”FORD! IT’S RAINING!” Their grin was visible even from a distance. The rest of the party cheered, raising their arms or throwing their hats. Then they had to dismount and pick them back up again.

“This is great!” Slim had guided their horse back down the trail full of celebrating riders to Ford. “It’s been a long damn time since we saw a drop of rain!” “Well, that’s wonderful, but if it’s raining on its own, then what do you need me for?” Ford asked. He was supposed to be helping these people with their weather problem using a Rainmaker he’d smuggled out of Dimension 7.6^3. It was the job they’d hired him to do, and if he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t get paid.

“Whaddy mean, Ford? Didn’t you finish the last touches on your machine last night?” Slim asked, cocking their head.

Ford wondered if they’d been drinking in the saddle again. “No… you know we need to be at a higher elevation for the Rainmaker to work. And I haven’t finished my repairs.” The light shower poured harder, and the sweet, earthy scent of rain filled the warm air.

“Naw,” said Smith from behind him. “I seen you fixing it up too. Pushed a lot of buttons and zap! Brought all those clouds over here.”

“I saw it too!” Lizard Lizzie shouted over her shoulder. “It was just like magic, I’ll swear on a Bible.”

“You college types can be so forgetful,” Slim said blithely. “Don’t you worry, we’ll talk to the Sheriff. You’ll get your pay.”

Ford grinned. “Thank you.” “Don’t mention it!” Slim turned to address the whole group, cupping their hands around their mouth. “Alright, folks, change of plans! Let’s get back to town and tell ‘em all what a good job we done!” They gave Ford a knowing look. “I’m sure you’d like to collect your fee and move on, huh mysterious loner?”

“It’s what we do best,” Ford acknowledged, and they shared a smile.

14. basorexia - the overwhelming desire to kiss

“Wow.” Ford leaned back. “That's some view.”

The sunset was a lot like Earth's; it painted the sky and sea in shades of orange and purple. Ford sat on a bench at the top of a rise that swept down to the shore. Next to him was Jason, a local biologist who'd been very welcoming to Ford, and with whom he could discuss marine life for hours.

Jason flashed with bioluminescence to indicate his happiness. “It really is. I suppose you'll miss it when you leave. Or maybe not. You'll be off exploring beautiful new oceans.”

“I'll still miss being here. It's always nice to be near the sea. And I definitely appreciate being free from assassination attempts.” Ford hooked his arm over the back of the bench and grinned at Jason, who floated next to him, tentacles piled delicately on the bench seat to imitate a seated posture. while his shorter, frilled arms bobbed in the breeze.

Jason laughed. “I appreciate you not being assassinated,” he said. “You… you’ll be alright, won’t you? Out there,” he waved an arm vaguely.

“I have to be,” said Ford, scratching at his chin. “Death would mean failure, and I can’t fail.”

“Ford, that’s… you’re just so…” Jason laid an arm on Ford’s, frills brushing his wrist. “Well, you’re crazy,” he said ruefully. Ford chuckled. “But you’re very brave,” Jason went on softly.

Ford glanced away, hoping he didn’t look too pleased by Jason’s compliment. When he looked back, Jason was closer. Ford looked up into his face, confused but also feeling a sense of foreboding. He felt that he knew what was happening on some level, but surely not. It couldn’t be what it felt like.

Jason’s mouth was almost on his by the time Ford really believed it. He yelped and jerked back, away from the gentle grip Jason’s arms now had on his knee, his shoulder, his arm.

“I, uh, sorry, I don’t know if you–” Ford had no plans regarding the end of that sentence. His face was on fire. He had no idea how this situation had suddenly taken a hard turn into incredibly uncomfortable territory.

“I’m sorry!” Jason twined his arms together, embarrassed. “Oh, that was really, extremely stupid. I’m sorry, it’s just– you’re so, uh, it’s just a very romantic setting and I got a little– I should have asked first!”

“It’s fine!” Ford assured him, although his heart was pounding as if he’d just dodged a bullet. “I just don’t. I don’t do that sort of thing,” he explained weakly. “Not that I’ve had a lot of offers!” he added, laughing awkwardly.

Inscrutable lights flickered across Jason’s face and bell. Ford wondered how he looked, leaning away as if terrified of this man, who had been nothing but a friend to him over the past weeks. “Well, I won’t offer,” Jaon said finally. “If you don’t want me to.”

Ford felt as if he should explain himself, but he didn’t think he could make his feelings about kissing make any sense to either of them. I’ve never imagined myself doing that. I thought wanting it would happen to me and it never did. I think you’re very beautiful, but like the sunset is beautiful, and I wouldn’t want to kiss the sun. None of these statements would be likely to explain much, or make Jason feel much better.

Before the silence could stretch on too long, Ford said “I’ll miss you.” He took one of Jason’s arms in his hand. “I won’t forget our friendship,” he added lamely. It had sounded better in his head.

Jason grimaced, but squeezed Ford’s hand. “Why don’t you just try to forget the last couple minutes of it.”

30. whelve - to bury something deep, to hide

It was Gravity Falls, but not as Ford knew it, or remembered it. The Institute of Oddology was huge, eclectic, well-equipped, adequately staffed, and world-famous. It buzzed with the businesslike, occasionally chaotic energy of science being done. The things he’d seen here, and the things his other self had accomplished…

Here was what his life could have been. Safe use of the portal, a world free of Bill… Ford swallowed back jealousy and irrational anger, and turned to the man his friend could have been.

“You look, good, Fiddleford,” Ford said. In truth, he looked as unremarkable as he always had. An ordinary exterior hiding an incredible mind, just older.

Fiddleford cracked a grin. “You look exactly like a character you’d come up with for DD and More D, if I’m honest.” He put his hands on his hips and made a show of looking Ford up and down. “Space Pirate, you know? You’re the spittin’ image. They got that subclass in your dimension?” “I wouldn’t know. I haven’t been there since I was thirty,” Ford reminded him.

“Oh yeah,” Fiddleford rubbed the back of his neck. “On account of that accident with Stan.” He eyed Ford closely, watching his reaction. “Things went south, you say.” “With Stan, and with you, yes.” Ford said shortly. “Very south.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason, it’s nothin’.” Fiddleford put his hands in his lab coat’s pockets and tapped his foot rapidly against the tile. “Do you ever think about how they are now? That Stan, that Fiddleford?”

“They’re fine, I’m sure.” Stanley was always fine; he was slippery enough to survive anything. And Fiddleford, even with his anxieties, even with the temptation of that damned gun, was too brilliant to hang around in Gravity Falls, hunting the locals’ memories for sport.

“Good, good.” They stood silently for a moment.

“Did your family move up here?” Ford asked, wanting to turn the conversation from topics he wasn’t remotely willing to tell this Fiddleford about.

Fiddleford raised his brows, surprised at the change of topic. “Oh, yeah. Not too long after we got the portal all configgerified just how we liked it. Wife and kids came up. Well, I s’pose it was just the one kid back then,” he chuckled. “They always liked you, y’know. The kiddos. They liked that you’d rassle ‘em around and let ‘em do dangerous dang stuff when I wasn’t around.”

Ford’s stomach clenched unhappily at the thought of being a significant figure in the lives of Fiddleford’s children as they grew up. It was so desperately far removed from what his life had actually been. Ford wanted to turn away from this topic as well.

“Yes, well.” Ford gripped clasped his hands behind his back. “I’m glad that the other me has done… so well for himself.” He gritted out the words.

Fiddleford gave him a deeply pitying look. “I can help you, you know, Ford. We can get you back to dimension 46’\ lickety-split.” He patted Ford’s shoulder. Ford suppressed a wince, even though Fiddleford had just told him that only contact with his own alternate self could damage this universe.

“No.” He shrugged off Fiddleford’s hand. I don’t need to go home, I need to destroy Bill Cipher for good.” He fixed his gaze on Fiddleford. “You and your Ford may have made this universe safe– I don’t begrudge you that, but Bill took my life from me. He’ll do it to infinitely more people if I give up. I intend to put an energy pulse right between his… eye.” Ford finished. “I just need to refine my Quantum Destabilizer. I haven’t been able to find a power source that will work with it.” As Ford spoke, Fiddleford’s KBPS began to rise, and his eyes lit with interest.

“Power source, you say? Now that’s interesting…Come this way. I think I got somethin’ you’ll want to see!”

24. meriggiare - to rest at noon, more likely in a shady spot outdoors

Ford plopped down in the soft blue lichen covering the soil under the vast canopy of a towering mushroom. The steep rise he’d climbed to get here was perfectly positioned to show him a view of the picturesque little valley– its forests, clearings, and some of the inhabitants: the large but harmless lizards that fluttered through the air, glittering like strings of jewels. The sky was a dusky blue, the sparse clouds delicate feathery streaks.

A smile twitched at the corners of Ford’s mouth as he tried to open his pack and find some food. He fumbled it and burst into laughter. It wasn’t funny, and that knowledge just made him guffaw again.

Ford shoved his hands up under his glasses, trying to get ahold of himself. What was going on with him? He’d climbed this hill on a whim, just wanting to appreciate the view and have some lunch. Maybe get a few hours rest before carrying on. He was due to visit a weapons factory in a lava dimension, and had wanted to enjoy his last hours here in this world. (Dimension 0591 Dash Six (dash and six all spelled out for some reason.))

But now he felt both bubbly with good humor and even sleepier than he should after a sleepless night of traveling. Even the thought of his own unusual mood made him want to laugh again.

“How did I get stoned out here?” Ford asked himself out loud. Biting his lip to try to smother his grin, Ford waved his hand in front of his face, wondering what it would look like. It looked like a hand waving in front of his face. Not the most useful diagnostic tool. If the flying lizards were watching, it would look like he was waving to them, he thought, and snickered. He gave them a proper wave, in case they really were watching, and turned back to the matter at hand.

He hadn’t eaten anything he wasn’t certain of in weeks. It was an important element of survival in myriad universes. He hadn’t been poisoned in any other way. It must be something environmental. But what?

Ford thunked his head back against the soft, pale trunk of the mushroom, feeling decidedly less concerned about his drugging than he should be. He peered up at the rippling gills of the mushroom. He had walked through a forest of similar fungi all morning.

“Oooh. Yes, that could be it. Spores. Alien spores. Well, don’t feel bad,” he told the mushroom. He smiled drowsily up at it. “I’ll be fine, you know, probably.” Ford’s eyes closed. “Should probably leave. Get to that lava dimension and sober up,” he mumbled.

But a nap first, then back to it. Yes. Just a little rest, and he’d be fine.

8. ansare - to hardly breathe, to be out of breath

“No.” Ford gaped.

“Oh, yeah, totally.” The bartender wiped down the surface of thier bar with one hand, and polished a glass with a couple of others. “He’s a regular here. Probably not the Tesla that you know, but definitely some scrawny inventor guy. Wacko scientists are always washing up here, for whatever reason. Seen at least six in the last five years.”

Ford tuned out the bartender. His heart thundered. He glanced over his shoulder again at the mustachioed man drinking in the corner of the bar. He looked just like the poster Ford had had on his wall in college.

Tesla, Nikola Tesla, took a swig of his foamy brown cocktail and placed it back on the table so that it would hold down one corner of the pages that flapped in the breeze created by the bar’s oscillating fan. He licked whipped cream off his mustache and scribbled something. Ford felt faint.

What should he do? What could he possibly say? Tesla probably had people flocking to him all the time, Ford didn’t want to come off as just some hanger-on.

“Breathe, man!” The bartender smacked Ford on the shoulder. “If you pass out, he’s not gonna give you his autograph, you know.”

Ford gasped for breath, then fixed the slender alien with a scowl. “I don’t want his autograph, I want to tell him that I’m grateful for the incredible strides he made for science, and that I admire his ambition, and I want to let him know that his legacy never faded!” Ford fought off the urge to wave his hands in excitement and curled them into fists on the shining bar.

“Uh-huh,” they gave him an amused look. There was a pause while they stepped away to help another patron, and Ford drummed his fingers on the bar, trying to formulate an opening line. What did someone say when he met his childhood hero (or some version of him) in a spaceport bar?

“Hey, do you hear that?” The bartender was standing in front of him again. Their batlike ears twitched.

“No.” Ford looked around. It was quiet in the bar, both literally and in terms of patronage.

“It sounds so weird.” As they raised a hand to their head, the being they’d just served made an abrupt dash for the door. In the next instant, the back wall of the bar exploded.

Ford was knocked off his barstool and onto the floor, dazed and breathless. He rolled onto his belly and struggled to get his wobbly legs under him. As he rose, his head swam and his eyes streamed from the smoke and dust. He coughed, struggling to breathe, and looked vainly around for either victims who needed help or assassins who needed a quick death.

A couple of figures staggered through the smoke and out the front door, which looked completely intact. The explosive had been a small one, and Ford had been the nearest to it, so it was unlikely that anyone else was badly hurt. The bartender flashed through Ford’s mind– they’d been near him. They could be hurt or worse.

He turned toward the bar and leaned over it, only to be met with the sight of the bartender hauling themself to their feet. They coughed too, covering their mouth with one arm and flailing wildly with the other ones.

Ford grabbed them and tugged them closer, so that they leaned toward each other over the bar. “Is there another exit?” he shouted into their ear. It wasn’t ideal as an escape. If the explosive had been intended to flush him out, there would probably be watchers on all the entrances and exits, but it was either run or stay and suffocate.

They nodded, squinting in the smoke, and led Ford through a door into a small stockroom. Through that was a door into a closet, and then another door that led outside, or as outside as you could get on a spaceport. Ford glanced back and forth down the bright ‘street’, but it was deserted. He had to get away, and ideally get the bartender out of here, too.

He wouldn’t admit it, but Ford’s next thought was that he hoped Tesla hadn’t been a trick, a trap set for him by Bill’s agents. But how could they possibly have guessed he’d wander into that bar? Still, it hadn’t been Tesla to dash for the door, he’d been in his place along with everyone else.

“My bar,” the bartender moaned, bringing Ford back to the present. “What happened, what am I gonna do?”

Ford steadied them as they started to cough again. “I think that bomb was meant for me. I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to endanger you or your establishment. You should probably go home.” The bartender turned their incredulous gaze on him. “I lived in there! I don’t have anywhere to go! Who the fuck wants to kill you so badly?”

“Bill Cipher.” The name had no visible effect on them. In some places it was as good as a curse, but not here. “Okay, well, are you getting revenge or something? Is he going to pay for this?” They clearly didn’t mean financial payment.

“Yes,” Ford said simply. This was not even serious enough to count as a footnote on the list of crimes for which Bill should be killed, but if it would make them feel better to think Ford was seeking vengeance for them, then fine.

“Good. I’m coming with you. I’m going to help you and get this guy back for blowing up my house.” Their eyes were glassy with unshed tears. Ford didn’t argue. He knew from experience that it would waste time. He’d take them along and either they would give up and find some new place to call home or he could ditch them in a reasonably safe place.

“Let’s go, then. I’m Stanford,” he added, offering his hand.

“Journey,” they said, shaking it.

2. arcuate - arched; bow-shaped

Slate-gray buildings curved over Ford’s head, huge and entirely contradictory to the laws of physics. It was, he thought, what it might be like to be an ant, looking up at a forest of grass. If he was an ant, though, he wouldn’t be lost. He could use his antennae to scent his hotel and find his way there without fuss, using scent trails left by other guests.

Ford peered at the small ball of light he held in his left hand. The hospitality kiosk had provided it to him, along with a burble of the local language that he couldn’t understand.

Someone jostled his shoulder and snapped something unintelligible at him. “Oh, excuse me.” Ford fought through the foot traffic in the broad street until he could lean against a building. He couldn’t feel the curvature of the structure at this height. He tilted his head back, watching the shine of the lights in the windows against the nighttime sky.

He’d never been to a city so huge before, or so alien. The people here had blue skin, some of them. They were all a foot shorter than he was, and wore things and carried things and said things he couldn’t understand. Ford’s feet hurt. He was hungry and tired and cold– his coat was too thin for this weather.

If Ford had dreamed of being an adventurer as a child (and he now pretended he hadn’t) he wouldn’t have anticipated the aimless hours, or the boredom. He hadn’t considered what it would be like to have no home, and nobody to turn to.

Ford gazed blankly at his glowing orb. He was exhausted, and he was alone here. Nobody would notice for days if he didn’t make it to his hotel. The only thing for it was to move. Ford took a deep breath, pushed himself off his wall, and set out.

18. morituro - of someone who is next or destined to die

When Ford learned that Bill was widely known throughout many universes, he didn’t know if it was comforting (he wasn’t the only person to be tricked or harmed by Bill!) or dismaying (he was just another in a long line of rubes to fall for Bill’s trickery.) He wasn’t known quite everywhere, but in many places Ford heard whispers and rumors.

“Bill Cipher isn’t real,” scoffed a man in one dimension. “It’s just a silly trick created to scare children into obeying, like the Giant Cocoon!”

“I’m sorry,” breathed a sympathetic guard as she snuck Ford out of a heavily fortified prison. “Everyone here lives in fear of the One-Eyed Demon. Get out of here before you’re seen.”

The more Ford learned about BIll, the more grimly certain he became that he couldn’t begin to think of returning home yet. Indeed, he couldn’t take any other path until Bill was dead.

“My people,” said a hollow-eyed old arms dealer, xir hands clenched into a bony knot before xem. “Killed. Gone. Now I help other people to their own ends in the hopeless pursuit of the monster.”

And that arms dealer had been one of the lucky ones: Ford had found that few people ever survived Bill’s scouring of their universes.

“Murdered his own fucking people, you know? Just pfft.” This woman had snapped her delicate-looking wings with a startling sound. “All of them into the mist. And why? To cover up his crimes? For fun? Who knows?” She had shuddered in the sweltering heat. “Evil.”

Eventually, Ford began to hear an addendum to mentions of Bill. Not always, but sometimes, and increasing in frequency as the years wore on.

The first time he’d heard it had been from a child, who had peered solemnly at him from under a wide-brimmed hat. “The Deceiver will make you think fake things are real. He takes you away and replaces you with his own mind.” The little boy’s eyes had sparkled. “But don’t worry! My aunts say that there’s someone who fights the Deceiver! A man who appears from nowhere to strike and run before he can be caught! He’s a thief and a crook, but he helps. Maybe you can find him and he can help you too.”

25. noceur - one who stays up late

The problem with studying 0th dimensional physics was that it was so fascinating that Ford didn’t want to turn his attention to anything else. He’d budgeted two hours for 0d Physics, then two for exobiology (redundant– all biology was exobiology on an alien planet), then one for his Strygian literature class (the language was fascinating! The literature even more so!) and finally some philosophy he was taking to round out his studies and help him to understand the culture of the Strygians.

After that he would eat, sleep, wake, and attend class. And after escaping from that horrible dimension with all the M’s, Ford had washed up here, on the planet Strygis. Then there’d been two weeks of decontamination and rigorous interviews, and it had been decided that Ford should be allowed to attend Tytene University as what amounted to an alien charity case. They didn’t call it that, of course; he was an “Off-Planet-Originated Accelerated Admission” case. He was also, on paper, a woman, because the avian inhabitants of Strygis had organized themselves quite strictly by sex. As a scholar, Ford was female, legally.

Anyway, all of that was beside the point. The point was that Ford found himself in a university of kindred spirits. It had been years since he’d last earned a new PhD, and Ford thought he deserved a little treat. And the physics department at Tytene University should prove useful, you know, somehow.

A sudden rushing and fluttering in the aerie prompted Ford to raise his head. To his surprise, nearly his entire cohort had swooped in. They made their way to their nests, puttering around and getting ready for bed. Ford stared in surprise past the slender wooden poles that supported the thin canopy over the aerie. The horizon was turning pink. It was dawn. Had he really been awake all night?

“You keep telling us you’re diurnal,” joked Mask from her nest as she fidgeted with it, using her large talons to kick her bedding around. “And yet, here you are, every morning, as if you were just waiting for a good day’s sleep!” “She’s really making great flights with her study of our culture, eh?” came another jovial voice. “You’ll be sprouting feathers next, Ford!”

Ford grinned over his shoulder in the direction of the voice. He couldn’t be sure who it was, but it was clearly friendly ribbing, rather than nasty bullying. “Well, if Larna wouldn’t suggest such fascinating reading for my Science Qualification I could get some human-style nighttime rest!” Ford closed his textbook and relaxed back into his own nest as soft, amused hoots rang out around him.

“If you’re sleeping with us, you may as well get breakfast with us,” Mask suggested. She blinked her huge yellow eyes at him and fluffed up her gray feathers contentedly. “I could catch some oolie and you can explain what Larna is always going on about. I need all the help I can get with physics.” “Sounds lovely,” Ford said truthfully. (A tiny part of Ford already mourned the loss of this planet from his life. Once he moved on, would he ever be back? He pushed the thought aside.) His hand crept toward his exobiology scrolls, almost in spite of himself. Naturally, Mask spotted the movement. She rolled her whole head.

“At least try to be asleep before the sun is above the horizon,” she advised him, sounding like nobody so much as Fiddleford at age twenty.

Ford chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do. Old habits die hard.”

29. selcouth - unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet wonderful

Footsteps thundered behind Ford as he dashed through broad, brightly-lit halls. Door after door flicked past on either side, but each one was a dead end, if the map Ford’s accomplice had given him was correct.  He could hide, but he’d be found eventually. He could run, but he couldn’t remember exactly which way to go to reach the outside. This is why you memorize the map! Ford’s brain told him unhelpfully.

At a T intersection, Ford stupidly hesitated for a fraction of a second before staggering to the right. He heard a shout much too nearby.

“There! He went that way!”

Shit. Ford dashed on, terror delaying the exhaustion he should be feeling by now. Even with the benefits of adrenaline he could feel a sharp stabbing between his ribs.

Another intersection, another turn. Ford stopped. Dead end. He was cornered, caught. And weaponless, to boot.

Well, there was only one thing for it. Ford groped in his pocket for a certain cheap plastic case and turned to face the way he’d come, backing slowly toward the dead end.

Guards dressed in green rounded the corner. They stopped, startled to find him facing them, clutching something small that they couldn’t see.

“Greetings, gentlemen!” Ford said, panting. Who knew if they were men at all, but it didn’t matter.

“Drop your weapon!” rang out the command from the frontmost guard. “You’re trespassing in a restricted area!”

“That’s the least of your worries! Get ready… to die!” Ford threw down the infinity-sided die.

Blue light blasted forth from the die; Ford drew his arm over his eyes, recoiling from the flash with his whole body.. He froze in that position for long moments, before the silence around him caught his attention.

Ford removed his arm from his face and was met with a riot of color. He was floating in what felt like a gravityless void, but the black backdrop of space and stars was missing. Instead, he was surrounded by glittering clouds of blue and pink mist so dense he couldn’t see through them, but which looked as soft as cotton. Lights glinted within the clouds, like stars if stars were the size of motes of dust. Instead of the black void of space, it was all set against a gentle blue ‘sky’.

Ford tried to gasp in awe, and found he could. What was this strange place?

He looked down (only designated such because it was the direction his feet were in) and saw a long swoop of pink. He frowned. It was hard to tell distance or size in this place, but it looked like an enormous tail. He looked more and saw a leg, a head, and external gills. It all made sense, he thought, in an abstract kind of way, but his mind bent gently away from the beautiful knowledge of what he was seeing.

A huge, gentle black eye blinked at him through a gentle cyan fog. Ford reached for a gun he wasn’t carrying as a full-body shiver ran through him, and a soft but persistent pressure began to squeeze him tighter and tighter. He tried to thrash in an attempt to throw off the invisible force, and his body obeyed, but the pressure only mounted.

A voice boomed all around and inside of him. The glittering clouds pulsed and flowed to the rhythm of the words.

“ZFYRJBITKMSGVXEFRE

RVYSWSEGVXZVXDXHH

MVWSHUWOFXLXHVOVH

AOVMDVMNRVYSYIAW”

He couldn’t understand. Ford suppressed his instinct to panic. He wasn’t in pain, technically. He could breathe and move. He closed his eyes, blocking out as much sensory input as possible. Think! Perhaps he could reason with… whatever. The thing. The thing he couldn’t quite think about. The voice rang out again:

“JDNULALFCTIGNCPLPETCI

ZFYVXUSUYMNZASGVER

RVYNRCSPPQJEQYLLE

CLXYHBHPEXBXSSOXLEKL”

Ford opened his eyes. They streamed with tears. The pressure was still increasing on his body, but he felt almost as though it didn’t matter. It was as though a pleasant haze was surrounding him, divorcing him from the fear of the situation. He blinked dazedly at a spark in a nearby pink cloud. It looked like shiny cotton candy.

“BEHDHUXGFVGXACPLVDBL”, the voice added. Was that amusement in its booming, glowing, unearthly tones?

A tiny blue object floated past. Ford blinked in surprise, and grabbed his die.

The next moment, Ford was sitting on a large flat stone in a forest that was disorienting in its normalcy. He sat for a few moments, struggling to understand. Then he gave up on understanding. He’d once accidentally eaten a planet. This was nothing compared to that. It was the sort of surreal misadventure that was best forgotten, surely. And, in the grand scheme of things, probably only the thirteenth most dangerous outcome of rolling the infinity-sided die so far.

“Chalk this one up to a victory, then,” Ford muttered to himself as he put the die back in its case and closed it with a snap.

3. astral - of or relating to the stars­

I’ve traveled so far, but this is my first time seeing space like this, the way it was always shown on television when I was a child.

I’m in an actual spaceship, and the view is incredible! Or, it’s actually a little less vivid and brilliant than I would have expected– mostly a big black backdrop with tiny white stars.

Oh, I’m making a mess of this. My first journal entry in years, and it’s complete nonsense! Not that this is a journal. I’ll have to destroy this page as soon as I finish writing it, but I just had to write something!

I’m rambling again. Let me start over.

Since escaping the Nightmare Realm, I’ve jumped from dimension to dimension, seen small towns, vast wilderness, and bustling cities. I’ve been running for my life, essentially. But yesterday I met a small group of outlaws who claim to be the enemies of Bill. I told them my story and they want to help me! Well, that and they also want my help. Perhaps together we can become strong enough, and learn enough, to free the multiverse of the threat that is Bill Cipher.

As it turns out, the outlaws’ base of operations is within this very galaxy. No interdimensional travel for us! So I got to board a real, actual spaceship.

I spent a good few hours discussing the craft’s propulsion with the engineer, a two-headed woman with six names. She talked about faster-than-light travel as if it were simpler than starting a combustion engine! Eventually she tired of my questions and I was banished to my tiny quarters.

Even if the view is duller than I might have hoped for, I can’t quite believe that I’m in space! Every star I can see from my window is brand new, never seen by human eyes. When I was eighteen, watching the moon landing in my parents’ living room, I dreamed of one day experiencing something like this.

It could be under better circumstances, but I’m fed, clean, reasonably unlikely to be killed (I think) and on my way to meet with those who will help me defeat Bill and make the multiverse safer for everyone!

For the first time in a long time, I have hope for the future.

#my post #my fic #forduary #forduary2024 #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #i have been writing this for #so long #i mean only a year and change but still

[undf-stuff]

AM I NOT WORTH IT ? - Miguel O'Hara

0. Who are you? Part 1

For a time, you collaborated with Miguel, and despite your lack of powers, you made yourself invaluable to the Spider Society. Although you weren't a Spider-Woman, over the years spent stitching up your brother's wounds and listening attentively to his tales of adventure and experience, you gradually acquired a deep understanding of the Spider-Man universe. You were as helpful as possible in his adventures as his "Girl in the Chair". After his disappearance, when your world collapsed, you had no one to turn to but him.

Mentions of: blood, injuries, delusion, injection, angst, sad (tell me if I miss something important ヽ(･ω･｡ヽ) )

The taglist is open feel free to join ヽ(*´∀`)ﾉ

It was pitch dark and was raining heavily, but you didn't care. As soon as you lost contact with your brother a miles away you rushed to the last place he had been. It was an old shed in a poor state: acid holes were visible, and traces of explosions showed the violence of the battle. The roof was no longer here letting the storm inside what was left of the shed and making your step slippery as you walked cautiously but hurrying.

"Miles! Where are you?" You shouted as you made your way through the ruins, you almost climbed a piece of the roof that was blocking your way when you heard a groan.

You looked around and saw a glitching corpse under debris on your left.

What is that ?

You wanted to get closer but at some step, you saw a glimpse of Miles' suit further down on the ground, he was not moving.

"Oh my...MILES !" You scream as you run to him.

Your mind was racing with thoughts of what could have happened to him, as you tried to make your way through him.

That was when you realized something important: He fought with the Scorpion earlier this month and was trapped in the RAFT at that very moment. Miles had upgraded his equipment in case it returned, but this Scorpion was different.

When you were connected with Miles's devices earlier that night you heard your brother describe to you that Scorpion: he wasn't in his habitual green armor but was a kind of chimera and had lost his accent. You tried to take a look at him but couldn't see a thing with that storm. But how could he change his appearance in a month?

It couldn't be him. But who was he then?

When you reached Miles he was on his back under some piece of wood and metal that were crushing him, you did your best to get him out of there and were able to pull it out from under the rubble with difficulty. You turned him on his back to see if he was severely injured and saw a big burn right on his chest that formed a cavity showing nothing but a black mass inside of him, the smell burned your sense, but you still carefully removed his mask to check his breathing already knowing the verdict.

"Come on bro, please breathe for me, please, please, please" You almost choked on your tears not knowing what to do. You were alone, soaked from head to toe, and with no one to turn to scream for help.

What should I do? I can't call the police I didn't bring anything with me. I don't know what to do. New York can't do it without him, I can't do it without him.

You tried to think of something but reality hit you like a train, it was too late. He was already dead from his wounds.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, NO, PLEASE, I-I CANT DO T-THIS WITHOUT YOU !!" You cried the more you screamed.

As you held him in your arms and prayed for someone to help you, you broke down and burst into tears.

What could have happened to him? How did the Scorpion escape from the RAFT? Why wasn't I informed by the police communication? Is it my fault?

As the storm got heavier and mixed your tears with the rain you saw a portal lighting up the hangar a few meters away. Some people were getting out of it and started to scan the zone when one of them noticed you and your brother and approached but you didnt move, how could you? You had to protect your brother at all costs. You were still in denial that he died, you could not accept it, not him.

And it was all your fault.

I should have been quicker, checked with the police, tried to find out more.

Confirmed the identity of the villain.

But he is dead because of me.

No.

He cannot be.

It cannot be.

He must have just been knocked out.

I must have misread the heartbeat, right?

I will just take him to Aunt May.

She would know what to do about acid poisoning, yes, I'll do it.

I'm going to save him

Still, in your thoughts, you suddenly felt a hand on your arm and were startled by it.

You grabbed one of their weapons and raised it in front of both of you, forbidding them to come near you. You had to protect your brother at all costs.

The woman with the glasses who had touched you up shouted, and five other people you only noticed now immediately pointed their weapons at you, drawing the attention of the people in the surroundings.

"Don't you dare… lay a finger on my brother," you sobbed.

A much taller man made his appearance and approached you. He walked among his recruits, motioning for them to lower their weapons as he got closer, but you kept your grip on the gun as you glared at him.

"Did you not hear me !? Take one more step and I will kill you! Whoever you are !!" you shouted, tightening your grip on your brother.

But that had no effect on his pace. On the opposite, he moved closer and closer to you, lowering himself to the level of the weapon you now held in your shaking arm.

"No deberías estar aquí, querida,"(you shouldn't be there honey) he says softly.

"What? What the… Who the hell are you?" You said in confusion, almost choking on your tears.

"Is she involved in the anomaly?" he said to his left side, ignoring me.

"No, she is part of the canonical event from data, but this villain is the cause of the anomaly," a robotic voice said from his left ear.

What the hell is going on?

You lost your patience and tried to shoot him to protect both of you, but his reflex made him grabbed your wrist so hard that you lost the gun and had to sobbed out from his strength.

"Alright, tell the others to finish cleaning the area," he said as he stood up and walked to the portal.

"So, no thanks for me, sir?"

"I'll think about it after we finish this mission, Lyla," he said annoyed.

Lyla ?

"Okay, you're the boss."

A tiny hologram turned to me before pointing in your direction as you attempted to protect Miles by standing in front of your brother.

"Sooooo what are we going to do about her tho?"

He was silent for a moment as the first woman approached and whispered to him for a long moment, you didn't catch what they were saying but saw the look they were giving you. All you could see was how pissed he was at what she was saying.

"All right, but make it quick," he said, looking at your tear-filled face for a moment before walking through the portal.

You didn't notice her approaching you as you stared at the now-empty portal.

Your mind was in a state of attack when she was near you, you grabbed her arms but the sight of her pregnant belly made you pause.

There was no way you could attack a pregnant woma. She approached you and gently placed her hand on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry, darling," she apologizes.

"Hun?" you said confused.

But before you could do anything, she stuck one of her fingers in your neck and pricked you with a needle.

You stared at her in confusion before you started to feel heavy.

Shit, it's a sedative, but I have to protect him...from these people, I… cannot… sleep.

You couldn't care less about your brother as you fell unconscious into her arms.

"It's all right now, sweetheart."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 0.2

Yayy part 0.1

OK, so this is like the beginning of how they met and all sooo idk if it's good enough or not krkrkr

Let me know what you all think about it and I'll see you soon

Your faithfully

Undf-stuff ✧

(◍•ᴗ•◍)♡ ✧*。

#miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miles morales #spiderman variants #miles morales brother #spiderman 2099 #spiderman across the spiderverse #female reader x miguel o'hara #spider society #undfstuffwork #miguel o’hara x reader

[a-moment-risked]

with powerful slowness | ror2 fic { 2 }

✧ tagline: a science-fiction serialisation based on the lore and gameplay of ‘risk of rain 2’

✧ warnings: n/a

✧ word count: 403

✧ featuring: captain, loader, commando, engineer

✧ tags: (request to be added)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

A portal born from a stone altar brings you to a moment where time does not pass.

BEFORE

You had explored the initial location of your drop landing. A green, grassy plateau that stretches between mountain ranges housing spires and strange stone arches towering hundreds of feet in the air. Titanic Plains, one of your crew mates had named it.

You would’ve settled faster if it weren’t for the beetles and lemurians attacking as soon as you exited the drop pods. You were confronted by what it meant to exist on a planet that was not yours. The attacks were relentless as you moved away from the pods. You had to shoot them, to protect your crew.

At one point, you come across remnants of MUL-T robots. There are pieces of stone broken away from these arches in the sky. You follow them to an old camp, or at least where an old camp once was. UES communication equipment broken and abandoned, scraps left behind.

On the far west is a morbidly known vessel. A compartment of the UES Contact Light, long finished smoking and abandoned. Your second in command, codename: Loader, presents you with a heavy blue container shortly after inspecting the bits of the ship.

You have existed here before, but not as you are. Instead, another captain, another loader, another crew.

The cargo chest, contains galactic items that would be useful for your expedition. You and your crew could become powerful enough to fight against this violent world so that you won’t suffer as your predecessors did.

You plant a temporary rally point. You gather supplies. Your crew mates take turns guarding the area from hostile creatures while you rest and plan for more exploration.

Your Loader becomes a one-hit machine, your Commando shoots at inhuman rates, your Engineer has manufactured turrets that can guard them as they sleep, so even they get to rest when the light disappears over the horizon.

Then, one day, you discover a structure — alluring but otherwise an omen.

A large, round base in dark stone speckled with red ore. Two horns rise from two points and in the middle, a basin of sorts.

Red particles float around it, securing its status as ominous.

You tell your crew to step back. That you will not touch it until you are all prepared for a fight.

You sleep, nervous, with sweat sticking to your back.

#risk of rain 2 #risk of rain #ror2 #risk of rain au #risk of rain captain #risk of rain loader #risk of rain commando #risk of rain engineer #fanfiction #request to be tagged!

[jinx-jade]

On a Scale of 0-100, you’re an Angel four times over: ch 4

Training with the Amazons was far more intense than any of the basic martial art classes her mother had once enrolled her into. The differences between the two were laid out in plain sight as her body became every bit the weapon she was learning to wield under the Amazonian’s teaching.

Sadly, Adrien couldn’t join the training as often as she wished. He did join whenever there was a break between his civilian and alter ego’s lives, but that wasn’t very often, between photo shoots and their alternating patrol schedule. They have been using online communication to stay in contact through enchanted communicators that acted the same as any regular phone. The only real difference was its ability to appear and disappear at will.

The guardian, while Adrien is away, learns a great many things during her time on Themyscira. She learns not only from the Amazons but also from a former miraculous holder who had once been a part of the order. With Hippolyta able to teach the guardian about the old order, as well as lending the bluenette what few grimoires the amazons had in their possession, the current wielder of the ladybug miraculous learned much more than she ever had under the previous guardian.

Still, some things couldn't be taught to the young guardian. Some things had to be learned from trial by fire, and what a great fire it was.

The world was lit a flame as ash rained down through the air. An army of creatures, no, magically corrupted humans, Akumas, stood amongst it all. Death and destruction spread much farther than the eye could see. The black cat falls and soon so does the ladybug. The universal balance weighs too far one way as a figure, a man, dressed in purple, glowing a bright white while floating above it all. A single poster falls before her feet, having been carried by the wind. The only thing she could make out on the poster before it too burst into flames was a date printed on the paper.

The guardian gasped awake, heart pounding as blood rushed through her body. A sharp ringing pierced her ears, as her eyes burned from the overflow of tears.

"-... you're okay! It's okay- everything is okay. Shhh… you're safe here." Tikki cooed, rubbing a gentle paw up and down her wielder’s cheek in a calming motion.

The other kwamis were flitting about nervously as their guardian attempted to calm herself, despite the pearly silver tears that continued to fall in place of clear watery liquid. She pushed herself up off of her bed in a clumsy hurry, running out of her current living quarters towards the pull of creation’s faint magic residue. The path she followed led her to one of the meeting halls the amazons had just off the shore of Themyscira, which allowed their male allies to come to meet with them without breaking the laws placed upon the island.

It was a short trip when you use portals as your method of travel. She arrived at the hall's large doors in mere moments, pushing them open with a simple wave of her hand. Strong winds move the heavy stone with ease, drawing the attention of all those present in the hall.

“I need to speak with Hippolyta.” The Guardian states, her sharp sapphire eyes cutting across the room, landing on the amazonian queen.

“Of course.” The Queen agreed before any of the people present could object. She walks over to the guardian, gesturing for them to step out of the meeting hall.

They only just get out of sight from any peering eyes when the guardian explains her reasoning behind urgently needing to speak with the amazonian queen.

“I’m pretty sure the way things are going doesn’t change, then the world is going to be destroyed on September first when the only two active miraculi on the side of good fall into the hands of the corrupt butterfly.”

“All right. How do we prevent this tragedy from coming to pass, little miracle?” Hippolyta inquires while gently wiping away the guardian’s tears.

“...You aren’t going to ask how I know this?” The bluenette asks in place of an answer, causing the amazonian woman to chuckle.

“Child, you are not only the last guardian but have also wielded and been blessed by the majority of the kwamis. There are simply some things that the gods in play have deemed worth your knowledge.” Hippolyta explained. “It is how you will use this knowledge that is the real question.”

The bluenette nodded her head in understanding, thinking over every detail she had seen. Her eyes widened as the answer revealed itself.

“There had only been two miraculi in play. What if I add more?” The guardian suggested, biting nervously at the dead skin of her lower lip.

“Do you have people you trust to aid you in battle?” Hippolyta questioned, reserving a somber shake of the guardian’s head. “Then how would you add more mircauli if you have no one to wield them?”

The bluenette was quiet for a few moments. Her hands fisted into the many layers of silk her nightgown was made of, causing her knuckles to turn a shade of white not unlike the cloth.

“Be gentle with yourself child.” The amazonian queen scolds gently, taking the young guardian’s hands into her own.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.” The bluenette whispers into the air as a new round of tears began to fall. The sound, carried by the wind, makes it just far enough for the older woman to hear.

Hippolyta kneels at the young guardian’s level, with her hands still held in the amazonian’s own.

“There is only so much one can do on their own, and you, little miracle, have been tasked with so much more than any person ever should be tasked with,” Hippolyta informs the bluenette with a sad smile.

“If it’s strength, of both the body and the mind, that you desire, we can teach that here on Themyscira, but if you wish to learn more about the magic that is seeping into your very being, I’m afraid you will have to learn that else were.” The woman explains, looking back over at the meeting hall’s entrance.

"My daughter, Diana, has befriended a fair number of magicians over the years." The amazonian queen begins hesitantly. "I had called them here to ask for assistance in how to teach you, but perhaps what you need isn't more second-hand knowledge, but for someone to help you shape your magic."

#maribat #mlb x dc #damianette #danger scale soulmates

[gakriele-lvs-blog]

Parallel Scars AU

Of all of my current AUs ideas, the one I'm currently the most obsessed about is the one about Vee and Hunter escaping Belos's grasp, surviving together while avoiding the emperor's coven capture, and going practically feral as a result of all the trauma and stress. Forming a bond so strong that they understand one another without any words, like just looking at each other's eyes is enough for them to communicate.

And with feral and I mean their personalities are split between:

-kids who only want to be kids

-Explore and discover the wonders of the world!

-Spent a whole day in the library studying and learning for Fun!

-Maybe have ice cream instead of lunch.

Meanwhile, the other half is entirely dedicated to:

-I want to LIVE

-Animalistic Survival Instincts

-"They have seen too much... I'm gonna throw them to the sea"

-Mental list of the most effective ways to kill somebody

-If you touch them they bite, HARD

-"I'm a monster-! OH TITAN, WHAT HAVE I DONE?!"

-Existential crisis, go brrrr

The amount of possibilities this premise presents is making me go crazy! Like, just think about it!

How will Hunter find Vee? Maybe a young Hunter accidentally finds the entrance to the labs and sees what his uncle has done to the basilisk, meets a young Vee and bonds with her, and every once in a while to goes down to see her? or maybe... the basilisks has already escaped and during his first mission, still unaware of Belos's experimentations on them, he encounters Vee and tries to help her.

What would Darius and Raine do about this? Hunter would possess critical information that could assure Belos's downfall. So makes sense they may try to get him to their side. But... reasonably Hunter doesn't want anything to do with the coven, much less if it may put Vee in danger. So he would keep his distance.

Where are they hiding? inside Hexide's walls? an abandoned cabin somewhere in the woods? or just straight out a nomadic lifestyle, exploring the titan in hopes of finding a perfect place to settle?

What about Luz? if she is around during all of this? Honestly, I have no idea, haven't decided exactly when this is going to take place. Maybe a year before her arrival? a couple months? So when Luz passes throught the portal both Vee and Hunter go to the human realm and meet Camila! that sounds like a good ending...

And what if Belos makes another Grimwalker to replace Hunter? What happened to the other basilisks? Haven't throught of those either...

I want to start this so badly but I already have a literal dozen WIP! I just can't handle more than that!

#vee noceda #hunter noceda #hunter the grimwalker #vee the basilisk #toh au #the owl house fanfiction #fanfic material #vee and hunter are siblings #toh fanfic

[mokuknight]

New pinned because I can never be straight forward! :D Lets go!!

Hello!! I'm Moku!

You can also call me Lith, or any nicknames you decide to throw at me. - I'm 15 years old and I live in a very wet place of the USA. It rains A LOT over here. -I'm born female though I wish I wasn't. I usually act more masculine when I'm not around my family, but I do my best to act the part for my parents sake only when I'm with them, if only barely because it makes me very uncomfortable to do so.

My art blog side blog is @mokusgeekart

There, you can send in art requests or just check out what I draw ofc.

On this blog I usually reblog or say my thoughts or say funny things that pop in my head as most blogs I've seen do. I generally reblog about cute insects, games or reblogging back and forth with mutuals because... I love y'all.

Hobbies: Drawing, gaming

I'm currently trying to practice with learning how to use a 3D printer properly so I can make cosplays! That stuff might eventually be shown on my art blog when I get enough courage to start using what I've learned so far.

Favorite types of things in a nutshell: I love anything that has to do with creatures and/or space!! Masked characters are where it's at. I love sci-fi dearly; and I also like bugs! I like praying mantises, moths, and isopods especially!

Please be patient with me, if you have questions about what I believe in, please give me the opportunity to think so I won't be confusing, as its very hard for me to get my thoughts out and I have a very rampant brain that keeps me up at night. Its hard to communicate.

Other interests under the cut, but other than that, thanks for stopping by! :3

Current interests:

Halo

Red Vs Blue

Hollow Knight

Bug Fables

SCP

Spider-man/Deadpool

Rainbow Six Siege

Call of Duty (I mean the originals)

FNAF (Five Nights at Freddy's)

Lackadaisy

Astroneer

Rain World (still trying to get into it.. just slowly)

Pokémon

Twin Peaks (1990)

Portal

Kirby

Doom

Twenty Øne Pilots

#intro #pinned #long post

[sophieinwonderland]

hey! recently i have been introjected, im.. not that happy about it but seems like i cant go back. Anyways, I cant do magic here. Which is awful because its what im good at. So do you think if i made a... 'headspace' or 'wonderland' I could do magic there? If i could, how'd i get that headspace, considering our current headspace is basically set in this world (its a constantly raining school) i doubt i could do magic there but if i could get into a different headspace could i do magic there?

Thank you so much!! -Claudia

Welcome to the world, Claudia!

And almost certainly!

You should, in theory, be able to create any type of Wonderland with any rules you want. You may be able to do magic in your current headspace too if you give it a try. Experiment and see what happens! (You could say that a school that's always raining is kind of magical in and of itself.) It may be a good idea to introduce a way to easily move between different worlds without breaking immersion if you go this route. I use a portal door from the Owl House, but others in our system prefer the Sling Rings from Doctor Strange.

I just want to add that while it's completely cool if you only want to hang out in the inner world, (a lot of headmates do) if you do want to take an interest in the outside world, our modern science can be its own sort of magic.

We live in a world where we can communicate across the globe through glowing windows that put the entirety of human knowledge at our finger tips. Where we can fly from one end of the planet to another in a day inside giant metal birds. We have machines that can print solid 3-dimensional objects, and I can slap a helmet on my head to enter into a digital multiverse. We have vacuums that clean houses by themselves and machines that can play music with a few words.

The humans of this world started off living in caves but we made our own magic, a magic powered by metal and lighting.

So many people who grew up in this astonishing world take it for granted because it's become so normal to them, but since you're here, I thought maybe you might be able to appreciate it.

I know things are hard right now, but I promise they get easier. I wish you the very best, Claudia! 💖💖💖

#ask box #plural #multiplicity #pluralgang #plurality #system #system stuff #systems #earth #science #technology #inner world #wonderland #headspace

[pastelpillbug]

Hi yall it’s me

EDIT: IF YOU ARE ANTI-PALESTINE/PRO ISRAEL. Get off my blog now

Nicknames/Aliases: Pastel, Bug, Shrimp, Rice

some flavor of nonbinary, they/them

Neurodivergent and a minor /ref /hj

Alt blogs:

None for now!

I’m most active here, but I have a yt that i occasionally post dumb stuff and or/ watch streams on

And a toyhouse that I haven’t coded or posted characters on

My discord handle is pastelbeetlebug

(Will add read more thing here later)

Fandoms/games I’m in atm:

Cookie Run Kingdom (love these silly cookies)

Rain world (hell yeaaaa I’m obsessed with rain worldddd)

Hollow knight (kinda)

Wolfquest (mostly AE but sometimes classic)

No Evil

Epithet erased

WoF

Shipwrecked 64

Ultrakill

Fandoms/games I have been in/know about:

Warrior cats+warriors ocs

Portal

Cuphead

Inscryption

Undertale/Deltarune

Don’t Starve (I’ve barely gotten anywhere in it though)

DDLC

Terfs an bigots leave me alone forever

My tags:

bug’s faves: my fave posts :D

my art: my art :)

pastelposting: my random thoughts

cool art: art I found cool

wwgtd: posts about or relating to Where Wolves

[bugsinspace]

You. youve asked me for my thoughts on Bp-o... but what are yours? i wanna know!!! /nf

bypass portals is My best friend. theres just something about him that i really like. his redesign, for one, is very pleasing and works leagues better than the original- balancing out the color palette to desaturated, muted purples and a pop of bright pink instead of whatever he had going on before. (the blue really didn't work well!) alongside that, hes just REALLY FUCKING FUNNY. i love characters who are just. Jerks. (like, we can tell he cares, and he cares so much it hurts. to care and to protect is written into his code. It's his Purpose, after all.) but the way he roasts the absolute shit out of melody the entire time they livestreamed together had me CACKLING my personal design for beepo extends past the little box form. Beepo /is/ ADHOC. (think of it like GLaDOS and Aperature, or the Iterators from rain world.) he IS the building. he just sees and communicates through a tiny little vessel that he can move around. And he doesn't even use The Cube all the time- he can transfer his consciousness to any computer at ADHOC. ANY computer. This includes Fandroid. He's only done this once, though- 'posessing' fandroid, i mean, and it was to tell him to get into the panic room ASAP.

#argyle speaks #sorry for the essay lolsies #adhoc labs

[pandoraimperatrix]

DickKory | Core Four Centric | Cannon Divergence | Longfic

Summary:

Dick Grayson is dead. His life taken by his own brother. The Abel to Jason’s Cain. Consumed by grief, Rachel gives in to despair, losing control, a portal opens, but from it no destroyer of words come through. Instead a man who looks just like him, how can he be?

---------------

*90's infomencial voice* Tired of Dick Grayson getting no character growth every season? Can stand the lack of development? The fact that we barely got any DickKory content since season one? I have just what you need! *normal voice* Okay, so in this fic Dick died, and Rachel pulled an alternative version of him from a dying universe, a version of him that will not take his family, Kory and his life for granted, he's not perfect, but he's doing his best.

————————————–

Chapter Fifteen – They shine

Dick held his breath in as much as he could stand, trying to keep Koriand’r’s perfume inside his lungs until they burned, desperate for air. Desperate for change just as the whole world – worlds? – thrived for.

It was only natural, going forward. He was the only fool wishing he could stop time and don’t progress over the moment she was so close and both of them could pretend it was their right to have each other. Her hand in his hand, her body against his body, the way she just trusted him and let him lead her across the dance floor. The way she gasped as the song took a faster tempo and he swirled her, her dress flaring like a blooming flower only for her to return to him, bringing that smile that took her entire face.

Or even, rewind time further behind. To the instant when he had the comforting warmth of her thigh brushing against his back, her soft voice generously offering factoids about her life in Tamaran, sadness almost successfully hidden, accenting the sweet of the moment. Her fingers danced in his hair and scalp while she braided and Dick found himself between the urge to restrain the bodily answer to something that shouldn’t feel as sensual as it felt or just melt like butter between her fingers. And if only he turned around, he would be able to hold her. Would she let him? Should she?

READ ON AO3

He had barely noticed that her golden glow was real instead of part of the illusion of paradise. Not when everything else about her was already heavenly.

“Are you alright?”

Dick finally let new air in, massaging his chest, the last glint of Koriand’r’s golden glow was gone as she disappeared with Selina to somewhere outside.

“I’m fine.”

And when Dick finally managed to turn his eyes away from the doorway to Bruce, the old man had an uncharacteristic soft expression.

Dick let him wordlessly lead both of them to a secluded room, an office. Community Centre was of course, how Bruce was choosing to call what was a reformed manor his family had in Metropolis since before Bruce’s parents had been even born. Dick remembered coming there when he was a child once, but the place was old and uncomfortable. In the few times Bruce had taken him for a trip they had chosen to use a smaller apartment in the new part of the city instead of going through the trouble of staying at a house not currently being inhabited just to keep an illusion of grandeur. His memories of those trips were free from Gargoyles and rain and full of walks on the cobblestone sidewalks and indulging in ice-cream.

“I remember you have preference for flower based liqueur, but, I think, all I have to offer you is scotch,” said Bruce putting one glass on Dick’s hand after pouring two drinks from the bottle over the desk table.

Dick frowned, wondering what Bruce was referring to, and it took him a little long to realize that looking through old memories wouldn’t have the desired results, since the man in front of him, was little more than a stranger. And then... Oh. Flower liqueur... The Bitter Truth.

Oh...

“No need to make that face,” Bruce smirked. “I, for once, can say I didn’t see anything. Selina deleted all the recordings. You can thank her later.”

And with just that, instead of a stranger misplaced in wonderland, Dick was 16 years old again, being caught kissing Babs behind one of the awful medieval armours decorating Wayne Manor, one that squeaked every time they brushed against it.

“How are things with Miss Anders?”

Dick almost laughed bitterly at the question. It was that breakfast with Selina all over again. Maybe they had been total opposites once upon a time, right now, they seemed united in their complete disregard for tact and consistency.

“After telling me you didn’t want to see my face, you brought me all across the country to ask about that?”

“You can’t blame me for the way I reacted that day,” Dick just snorted at that, Bruce sighed and leaned behind, resting his weight on the desk. He looked older and frail, but in a healthy kind of way that Dick have never believed he was capable of reaching. Bruce’s face and figure were softer, like they belonged to a man that was getting enough sleep and being fed way more than coffee and protein shakes in the past few months. Another thing he’d have to thank Selina for.

“What you want from me, Bruce?” Dick finally asked.

“I want to tell a story,” and his voice sounded so soft and earnest that instead of snapping back something spicy, Dick just took a sip of the whiskey letting the burning sensation ground him.

“A few years ago, when my son left home, and I believe it was the same time you left too, our worlds apparently diverged after that... Well, there were a crisis, an universal one. You won’t remember, most people’s memories were erased, mine remained. But I want you understand that things were not going well. It was a helpless situation, really... And much of it was my fault. So, when you said that your universe unravelled because of actions parallel me partook in... Well,” Bruce stopped for a moment, his face forming  micro-expressions as if he was adding internally to his point. Then, he sighed and drank his whiskey until the cup was dry.

“The reason I’m telling you that is because you are not the first traveller of parallel worlds that I’ve met.”

That really surprised Dick. He knew that since the league started, Bruce’s life had grown way larger than he had planned when he decided to pick the cape and the cowl. Growing up in that environment made Dick himself sort of insensible to the craziness of it all. Living in Post-Trigon hell did that too.

“Superman from what we call now Earth two visited me then,” Bruce continued. He picked the bottle up, and stared at it, considering, then put it back on the table and screwed the cap shut. “He told me that, in his world, I was married to Selina, we both took you in and we never severed our bond. I never wronged you so badly you felt the need to run away from me...”

“Bruce...” Dick tried, but Bruce rose a hand up.

“Life was not perfect in that world, but it was good. You even had a little sister,” he added with a sad smile. “When Earth 2’s Superman asked me if I wanted to claim that life for my own and save his timeline, forsaking my doomed one I asked him one thing, just one thing... I... I asked him if the man he called Dick Grayson, not you, not the man buried next to my parents, but this other version, if he was in any way superior to the one I raised and loved.”

He paused there, as if expecting Dick to say something. But what could Dick say?

“He said no, that Superman, and that was my answer.”

Dick swallowed, pushing the bitter taste in his mouth down.

Why kick him when he was already down? Bruce, even in his worst, murderous self, was never cruel. He did awful things that in his mind were necessary, but he didn’t relinquish in blood, in hurting others just to see them in pain. Dick wanted to leave, that office, that house, that city, god he couldn’t stand there one more second, where the hell was Koriand’r?!

“Why did you even tell me that?” He spat, body restless with wretchedness.

“Because I want you to understand,” Bruce’s repeated, his voice was very soft now, as if he was trying to blow the wound he had just opened. “There’s no replacing. Not really.” Dick locked his jaw, the scream barely contained by the prison of his gritted teeth. “But I’ve been carrying the death of that Dick Grayson I never really met all this time. My son, not better nor worse... I carry his life too. I’m not carrying yours.”

Dick started pacing, desperate to leave, desperate to escape.

“I... I can’t.”

 Then, Bruce said something that made Dick’s thoughts stop spiralling even though his head continued pounding.

“And I realized that there is no version of you that I would not want to protect, even if you don’t want to have anything to do with me. You are my son.”

Even the muffled sounds of the music and party outside disappeared, and the ringing of the blood rushing through his body was everything Dick could hear as he stood there, trying to breath under the weight of Bruce’s expectant gaze.

“You don’t need to say anything now,” Bruce finally said after what felt like forever. He walked past Dick, patting his shoulder in his way, his hand lingering just for a moment, hopeful. “But I needed to tell you.”

And when the hand finally lifted, Dick found himself turning around, seeking, for what?

“Why Metropolis?” The words slipped out of Dick’s lips before he could register.

Bruce stopped, one hand already on the doorknob.

“Uh?”

“The Community Center? Why build it here and not in Gotham?”

Bruce turned, hands in his pockets, and his expression softened.

“I don’t think you’d take it well if I chose San Francisco, where you, both of you, went to run away from me. And I don’t think you would come if I chose Gotham. You and I, we didn’t have any memories together in Metropolis. The ones I had with the Dick Grayson I reared, and that I believe you share, were the rare ones untainted by the job. In Metropolis we were just father and son.”

“What about Jason?”

Because Dick just remembered that in this reality, Jason had won over Death herself.

“He’ll never be alone again.”

They held each other’s gaze in understanding and then the door shook open.

It was Selina, Koriand’r was not with her, fear bit Dick’s stomach.

“Are the two of you done? Kitten, I think it’s better if you and Kory leave.”

“What happened? Where is she?”

“She’s fine, just… We were not able to make her stop glowing and I’m worried people might start noticing.”

“Where-?”

“She’s in the garden.”

“Thank you, Selina.”

“You’re welcome, baby, come here, give me a kiss” she rubbed the stain her red lipstick made on his cheek, “don’t be a stranger, call us.”

“I will,” and Dick caught himself believing his own promise before he nodded to Bruce and headed out to the gardens.

*

“Koriand’r!”

She was not in the garden, and although it didn’t take long for him to find her, the few moments of her disappearance was enough to create a billion of awful sceneries and the fact that she was beside what looked like to be the start of dumpster fire, didn’t exactly settle his heavy breath and racing heart.

Koriand’r turned to look at him, and her soft glow flared, making Dick squint, when his eyes adjusted, she was just beside him, that blind smile taking all her face.

If she were hardly unnoticeable before, she’d stick out like a bright golden thumb now.

“You won’t believe it, Grayson,” she laughed throwing her arms around his neck, her glee intoxicating. “My powers are back!”

------------

Next time we have horny Kory causing trouble.

Thank you everyone for comments, kudos, likes and all the incentive, they help A LOT

And if you want to see me suffer through my reading of New Teen Titans follow me on my main blog @selinascatnip

I’m in the middle of the Karras arc and I don’t think it’s coincidence that I found my first white hair 😭

#DickKory #Dick Grayson #Koriand'r #Nightwing #Starfire #Kory Anders #Richard Grayson #BatCat #Brucelina #Bruce Wayne #Selina Kyle #Catwoman #Batman #WW #Wandering Worlds #my fic

[sleepyowlwrites]

wip folders/titles tag (to end all tags)

briar-bush snagged by @aalinaaaaaa @talesofsorrowandofruin @mj-is-writing and @nicola-writes my goodness. it's been a little while since I did this, and I've got some new followers, so here goes. I'm doing groupings AKA scrivener docs. and I'm not gonna do this again any time soon, no matter what new ideas I get.

and other stories > Idea Box:

Rowena > Troublesome Princes, Twin Wizards, Vanishing Staircase, Sneezing Rain, Tiny Pirates, Lost Dragons, Doomed Crown, True Love's Kiss

Ghost Story > Violet, Trans-dimensional Ghosts

Spirits and Summoners

Spider Silk

City Story > dirt in the doing, gang up on crime

Death Story > The Score

Guild Story > House of Favors, House of Swords, House of Breath

Hunter Story

Apocalypse Story > Wasteland > Two Alone

Summer Story > The Summer Gallery

College Story > Previous Lives and Premonitions

old fantasy > 29 Days of October

Tumblr Shorts > remember/forget, know/don't know, greatest detective, riveting revival, villain/not villain, glow, study flirting, hell in a handbasket, the chosen one, the grave diggers, a universe of you, potions, trust?

Archive > The Illusion, ideas

Stories? > >100, you were a windshield

youth > The Ephemeral Infinite

Prewritten > scenes pt.1, scenes pt.2, supplemental scenes, episodes, chronological

Parts of the Story > The Garden, The Broken Eclipse, An Ocean of Moments, Skin Deep Spaces, Valley Under the Bridge, Mountain and Moon, Right Here, Right Now, Just Between Us, Void Inside the Soul, Kinder Lies, Abyss of Memory, The Bittersweet and Beautiful, The Dragons of Summer

Draft 02 > The Garden, from the journal

Sorting the Story > R and Mark

AUs > Spirits and Spectres

universe (space story)

first draft > anxiety story

The Beginning

The Bleed

The Encounter

The House

The Many Happenings

The Start of Class

The Weekend

The Routine

The Upset

The Anger

The Breakdown

The Storm

The Insides

The Stars

Spontaneous Scenes > ree's name, new snowboots, synopsis, meet theo, not angel ree, exist without

Name Swap > The Entire Thing

petrichor > draft

Act 1 > prologue, Meet the Fam (Kena, Kyt, One Family), Meet the Crisis (Drying, Dying, Crying), Meet the Quest (Walking, Talking, Stalking)

Act 2 > Meet the City (New People, New World, New Status), Meet the Magic (Internal, External, Paternal), Meet the Curse (Implications, Characterizations, Explanations)

Act 3 > Meet the Wizard (Choosing Sides, Switching Sides, Inside-outside), Meet the Recipe (Seeking, Speaking, Sleeping), Meet the Choices (Storms, Silence, Savior)

Burn::Freeze > name replace

Scenes > real communication, sardha is angry, a god laughs

Collections > Fandoms

The 100 > Punctuation, Sage

Shadowhunters

Avengers

Chicago P.D. > Shots

Power Rangers

ATLA

Misc.

Other Stuff > dialogue prompts, conversation prompts, setting prompts, title prompts

poetry and prose > Directory

Archive > 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017-19, 2020

Modern Collections: ellipses of thought, wwafllhdwg, walls and windows, weary and wanting, colors and creation, the kinds of being, you without me, sometimes words, what I will give you, discord, same again, deadly delights, the unknown, a palette of wonder

The Book of Lost Lyrics > love lines, lonely lines

The Book of Lost Lines > short, collectionless

free edits > ghosty's song, deathdancer

writing thoughts > character, story

sleepy subtitles library > The Library

C Dramas > The Untamed (Blood series, character study), The Lost Tomb (The Sounds in Silence, Functions of a Heart, Shorts, Living Death series)

Thai Dramas > KP (constellation), Misc.

kboys > Crossovers (gang, food & fruit, meta-portal), TXT (apocalypse, angels?), Archive Kpop

and that's it! that all the docs. I did it very thoroughly this time, covered all the wips, the parts, the ideas, the fics and the poetry. I even left a few out because they are barely ideas and I'll never write them. they're just pages with names, so they don't count. anyway. um. I don't remember who did this during the last go-round of tags. so just ignore me if you've done this recently. @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @uraniumwriting @ettawritesnstudies @viskafrer @zoya-writes @oh-no-another-idea @writing-is-a-martial-art OR ANYBODY, of course, as always

And Dreamy, who always wants to snoop on what I'm writing @writingonesdreams

#tag game #writeblr games #sleepy stuff #sleepy writing

[fallenflowersfromgrace]

Okay. I'm trying to connect dots.

Luz built a portal to the Collector's prison. And walked through it.

OTWAT: KIng is in the same place but isn’t exactly trapped here.

King is in between realms. He's dreaming. He's asleep in his physical world.

King is transparent because he isn't physically there.

Luz was solid because she was physically there.

Luz was only able to communicate through screens/reflective surfaces for most of YL...until she's standing in the rain in front of head lights.

Yet still can’t interact with Earth as she isn't able to high-five Vee. Because she isn't physically there.

But the Collector is a different story.

They're trapped.

And they are able to interact with the demon realm.

They aren't transparent.

He isn't a shadow. He covers objects completely.

He's solid.

Because they are over Belos' goo arm. If he wasn't able to to actually physically interact, he would be under and not over Belos' arm.

Like the Hollow Mind scene in Belos’s head where he is under Hunter and Luz's feet. Because it's a memory. It's the mindscape. You can interact with it but there are some aspects of the memory you cannot physically interact with.

So how is it that the Collector is physically trapped in between worlds, and yet is able to physically interact with the demon one?

Unless Belos found a loophole.

Maybe through summoning.

#the owl house #toh #luz noceda #toh luz #toh collector

[salty-medley]

Winx AU - context

All started with the "return" of the magic on earth thanks to the Winx. Magic never really left the planet, magic users only wanted to remain hidden to not have to interact with greedy or power hungry non magic living beings using them as weapons and chose to create closed areas, unmappable and protected by magic barriers. This decision of disappearing created a separation of the magic beings, some of them loving the idea, and the others finding it absurd. The queen of the fairies, eras before Morgana, already chose her side: she wanted to stay with the normal humans. It's due to that event that many small communities, realms and principalities arose all over the world, redefining all their laws.

Morgan, Loïc and their parents Erwan and Jeanne were living a quite random life in the small principalty of An Alc'hwez ; Jeanne, witch of the storms is the guardian of the island, a role that she's supposed to have until her death. Erwann owns the only resort of the place, which is known as a touristic holiday haven for magic users, and their kids are finishing their studies at Roc André, the local magical school.

Life was peaceful until the four infamous wizards of the black circle were defeated by the alliance of the winx and the fairies of Morgana. The huge amount of magic energy suddenly released was enough to awake Tristan, a mage coming from the ancient times and turned into a statue, forgotten since a long time. Realizing his chance, he used his time turner to travel through the years, targeting each fairy, mage or witch guardians of each hidden place and, with the help of his sbires, imposing his conditions. One of these guardians was Jeanne who perished during a storm night.

It could look like a normal accident if Jeanne was alone this night, but her daughter, six at that time, followed her, curious to see her mother calming the weather. Realizing she won't stay alive, Jeanne threw her magic pendant to the girl and cast a spell to teleport her inside, just before Tristan turn back his timer. Years after, and in a way different reality, changed by Tristan's actions, the family and the islands's inhabitants don't live a peaceful life anymore: the new Black Circle cultists are present and their everyday lives are made of attacks and constant threat. Morgan on her side have strange day dreams where she saw herself and her family living a so different life that she starts to wonder if it's not the truth, after all, it only happens when she wears her deceased mother's necklace, a broken triangle with a missing part. In that reality, she was trained to became the guardian of the islands, taking her mother's place and didn't have that much time to investigate. Tired of her insistence, her father hired a paranormal investigator, Wesley Hollowgate, to discover if something was really wrong.

During that time, Nereus, wanting to visit the Winx on Earth, took a portal and arrived in the seas of An Alc'hwez. The tired prince, rescued by the guardian, bonded with his grumpy savior.

It was the first time someone external was allowed to the islands, and, at her displeasure, the way the Winx managed to arrive at the place, attracted by a place which had so much time disturbances and where they weren't idolized.

The islands are located near the french coasts, in the Bay of Biscay. It mix influences from the south west of France and Brittany. The weather is tempered, very wet with numerous rains and storms. Winds are strong and rarely stop. The snow is quite rare here.

Main cast:

Morgan Dunoyer (22) : guardian fairy of the coast, her powers revolve around ocean, sea and water overall but her specialty is the baïnes , A baïne is a pool of water of a few dozen to several hundreds of metres length parallel to the beach, and directly connected to the sea, the name is from the south west of France. It's more a title than anything as she only uses baïnes in some occasions, preferring more classical water spells most of the time. Keep precise memories of the night where her mother was murdered by one of the dark circle cultists. Grumpy and pessimistic, she easily mocks people, yet can be very serious and dedicated to her duties. While being a fairy, she isn't that nice or compassionate. Borderline violent.

Wesley Hollowgate (30) : paranormal investigator gifted by magic abilities and called by a mysterious client to solve the mystery which strikes a city and its surroundings. Sly and arrogant, he will always act behind your back, whether it's for good or bad. He hates showoffs and noisy persons.

Loïc Dunoyer (17): her younger brother, wind mage. Talkative and cheerful in appearance, he's way colder than you can think. Gossips are his favourite weapon, after all the wind carries it very easily.

Erwan Dunoyer (58): their father, and the owner of the city resort. Tide fairy, tired and let alone with two difficult teens after his wife was murdered. He can feel that something weird happened but, failing to understand why, he, and few other local notables, decided to secretly hire an investigator.

Jeanne Dunoyer (deceased): deceased mother of Morgan & Loïc, she lived a pretty normal life as the witch of weather with her family when their town started to have time slips and she get trapped into one, and killed by the wizard who caused it. She only managed to save her daughter's life and pushed her out of it before he could do the same.

Tristan ?? (??) : Leader of a the local dark circle cult and owner of a magic hourglass allowing him to travel through time and change the present. Nobody knows his real age, nor where he comes from. He always watched over the four famous wizards, hiding in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to appear. But the Winx ruined his plan by defeating the wizards, and awaking the fairies everywhere on Earth.

( Made with Artbreeder)

Overall nor Morgan, nor Wesley have a good opinion of the Winx, and they don't want them to put their noses in their business. Their main conflict would be about the method, as the Winx always prefer to put enemies to "jails" while the duet prefers to execute them, creating "accidents" to justify it ( and are covered by the local rulers)

She can transforms in: basic magic, enchantix and believix. She gained the sophix and lovix thanks to Wesley, using magic to force the etheral fairies to offer it. Due to the wrong nature of their act, these two transformations are uncomplete and unstable. HC time: even enchantix fairies can re use the first transformation if they prefer as it costs less energy.

Unlike the Magic dimension fairies who learn that they need to transform each time, on this island magic users learn to save their magic energy and to fight regularly instead. It's not rare for her to carry a knife in case of.

Finally two gifs of their closest real life incarnations:

( her hair is less red, more like a light caramel with few relects)

@chiefbeifongcanrailme Here's few refs of them !

[eyayah-oya]

Current AUs of mine!! (An Incomplete List)

(Feel free to ask me about any of them, though I might have talked about them before)

Manda’Jetii Temple (aka Mandalorian Jedi AU)

This is the time travel fic that I wrote for 212th Appreciation Week and the first chapter is up on my patreon. Basically, several members of Ghost Company end up de-aged and back in time thanks to the connivings of Tarre Vizsla.

From the Shadows, Hope Rises (aka Shadow!Ahsoka)

Ahsoka was chosen as the padawan of Master Sephjet Josall when she was 11. When she was 16, her master was killed in the Battle of Geonosis at the beginning of the Clone Wars and she was assigned to Anakin Skywalker. But her training with Master Sephjet left her with many skills a Shadow needs and Ahsoka continued that training as best as she could despite Anakin’s lack of knowledge about Shadows. This leads to several surprises and twists throughout the war.

Shon’laar (Sirens AU)

The Kaminoans spliced the clones’ DNA with the last remnants of the native species on the planet, the sirens. With their genetic manipulation, CCs had powerful voices that could push their men further and inspire them, though it wasn’t a true siren song. CTs we’re far more susceptible to the CCs song, leaving them more obedient, at least in the Kaminoan’s eyes.

Time Travel Fix-It with Rebel Ahsoka

While running from Palpatine in the World Between Worlds, Ahsoka is pulled towards a different portal and ends up in the middle of the Umbara campaign. She faces off against Krell and reunites with people she lost decades ago. She also works to defeat Palpatine before he can complete his plan to become Emperor and destroy the Jedi.

General Ahsoka AU

When she went undercover on Zygerria as a slave, Ahsoka didn’t know she’d spend the next year trying to break free and rejoin Anakin, Obi-Wan, and the 501st. She finally escapes and is able to reunite with the men she cares for. Unfortunately, Anakin and Obi-Wan are on a mission and are unable to be contacted for their own safety. While Ahsoka is recovering, Palpatine decides now is the perfect time to get rid of her and sends an assassin to kill her. The assassin is caught and then Fox’s chip is triggered. He attempts to kill her, is stopped, and Ahsoka finds the chips. She and the clones work to undermine this plot without tipping off the mastermind behind it.

Raining Damnation (Mij Gilamar stand rise up!)

Years before the war would have started, Mij treats a clone and in the process, discovers a chip in his head. He, with the help of a few alphas and some brave CCs figure out that each chip contains orders that are meant to override the will of the clone. Mij is furious and storms Kamino, taking over the cloning process and killing any Kaminoan or trainer that gets in his way.

Courier AU

The couriers have the most dangerous jobs. When all communication is jammed and vital intel needs to be spread, the couriers are sent into battlefields to deliver information (and occasionally supplies) to the troops and generals fighting. But because the Jedi Knights and Masters are generals, the job has been given to the Service Corps, many of whom don’t have experience fighting at all. The couriers don’t last long.

Ahsoka always knew she’d be Plo’s padawan. Everyone in the Temple knew she’d become his padawan once she was old enough. However, right as he was going to start teaching her, the war started and Plo did not want to put her in the middle of fighting. They agreed that she’d go to the service corps to be safe and he’d take her as a padawan once the war was over. Unfortunately, as one of the few members of the corps with lightsaber training with several masters and with the lack of numbers, Ahsoka was quickly drafted as a courier.

Mandalorian AU (developed with @ninjatwins)

This is an au where there are no clones. Instead they are natural born Mandalorians. Based off of one of my fics I’ve already written, this is the story of how Cody becomes Mand’alor and how the True Mandalorians defeat Death Watch and make a treaty with the New Mandalorians.

Mer AU (also developed with @ninjatwins)

The Vode is an enormous clan of merfolk that primarily live on coral reefs. They’re peaceful up until they’re attacked by strange and powerful enemies from the deep oceans. Overwhelmed with more and more of his people being killed in every battle, Cody sends a few mers he trusts to chase an elusive myth of a clan of mers living in the vast ocean. Bacara, the clan leader of the Forwards (name pending), agrees to help and he and his clan along with the Jedi (shapeshifters and surface-dwellers) are able to defeat the sea witch Ventress and discover the leader of the nearby Republic was behind it all along.

Thorn/Padme AU 1 (developed with @aerykai)

Padme and Anakin have a huge falling out. She’s pregnant and scared, especially since Anakin fell after she officially divorced him. In an effort to protect herself and her children, Padme and Sabe turn to the people they’ve been able to trust since they entered their lives. Fox and Thorn immediately offer their help and Thorn volunteers to go undercover with Padme and Sabe. They leave Coruscant under new names, with Thorn posing as Padme’s husband, protecting Padme and her twin sister Sabe. They bounce around the galaxy in an attempt to confuse any pursuers and then settle down on a remote planet in an even more remote town. Thorn and Padme fall in love, especially when she sees how much he cares for her and the two kids that have yet to be born.

Okay this is already ridiculously long, so I’m gonna leave it here for now. Again, feel free to send me any questions you have about any of my aus (I’m not feeling well and my computer keeps crashing so I’m *bored*)

#lizzie rambles #lizzie’s aus #shon’laar #from the shadows hope rises #manda'jetii temple au #mandalorian jedi au #mandalorian au #raining damnation #so many ahsoka aus #can you tell who I hyper-fixated on #when I first joined the TCW fandom #anywho #feel free to send me asks #or just talk to me in general #I love talking about aus and I love talking about ocs