#&&verse: stare into the void until the void stares back

[evcryopeneye]

@nebulaties​ asked: ❛ can’t sleep? ❜ Ed to tilly 

Being this awake at this hour should be illegal. Exhausted, and yet unable to sleep, she looked up from the padd with a slow blink, watched him for a moment before she nodded her head, “I just keep waking up every half an hour.” Eventually she had just given up, there was no point rolling around in bed trying to get to sleep and staring at walls when she could get up and get something constructive done, or at least, do something that wasn’t just waiting for the sun to come up.

Blinking, dry eyes stung a little as she tried to take a deep breath. “I think it’s just jetlag.” She thought it would make sense, between taking forever to get here, and the long delay they’d face at the space port, she’d arrived much later, and much more over tired than she had wanted.

Sitting the padd down on the arm of the couch, she shifted, pulling her legs towards herself along with the blanket, making room for him if he wished to join her. Though, it was with the caveat that, “if you can sleep you should go back to bed, there's no point in both of us being an exhausted mess.”

Well, what could she say, she was an exhausted mess and she knew it. Limbs ached. Brain ached. Limbs were heavy. If she could sleep for the next three days she would, but apparently, being frustrated with yourself about your inability to sleep just made it harder to sleep.

[swiss-mrs]

#WEIRD☆GIRL

(Word Count: 4.6k)

Rating: PG-13, Adult Language and Themes, All Characters are 18+

Reader/OC Description: Reader/OC is Afro-Latina. She has long, dyed black hair that is worn straight with baby bangs and shaved brows. She is an alt baddie and would've definitely ruled MySpace. Body shape/type is not detailed. No Use of Y/N.

Playlist

Synopsis: One day, while Dave and Todd are out, they pass by a park void of screaming kids. Instead, the park is taken up by a group of what looks to be a mix of teenagers and young adults. Passing by the loud group, the boys can't help but stare, mixing Dave up with a girl more socially unacceptable than him.

Warnings(?): Adult Language, Sexual Themes (No Smut, Just Horny Boy Thoughts), Catcalling (Potentially Triggering Language)

This is written in third person but mainly narrated from Dave's view.

》》》

"I can't believe they had it!" Todd exclaims, gripping the plastic bag in his hand tight. Dave nods, gripping his backpack straps.

"Yeah, we need to start coming here more often. They have everything. We gotta bring Marty with us when he gets back."

Today marked the first day of the boys' last Spring Break. Marty was out of town on a trip to Florida with his family, so this cut down the trio to a duo, Dave and Todd. The two were currently walking along a street on the other side of town than their usual hangout. Todd found a new comic and video game store, and he and Dave figured they'd check it out.

"I can't wait to read it."

"Remember, no spoilers until I pick up my edition too." Dave replied. As they round a corner to get to their bus stop, they are greeted with the sight of a large clearing between buildings.

On the closest side to the boys was a skate park. It had a decent amount of skaters occupying it, echoes of skateboards landing against concrete traveling throughout the park. As the boys walked passed, they could hear the sound of music. The further they walk, the closer the music gets.

The current song that was playing was what Dave imagined rugged bikers with dark sunglasses and handlebar mustaches listened to. Scary and intimidating. It was muddy and grungy and punk and metal? He wasn't well versed enough to really know how to label its genre. Just as one song came to an end, another just like it followed.

He and Todd were both staring at the group surrounding the picnic table that held the speaker. Each one was different from the next, but they all had a similar dark and grungy style.

Something that immediately caught his eye was a black haired girl who took two big steps to get atop the picnic table. As the new song began to pick up, she got into a matching character. As she winded her hips and lip sang to the lyrics, Dave was completely entranced by her. "Woah..."

"Yeah…" Todd absently replies.

Her unnaturally dark hair cascaded down her shoulders and around the curve of her breasts. Her bangs reminded Dave of a toddler who decided to experiment with scissors. They were far too short to be considered "normal", but, Jesus, did she pull them off well.

She had two bows on the sides of her head, one purple and the other an off-white cream color. She wore a black, short sleeve crop top with red writing on it, something Dave couldn't really read clearly from this distance. She had knitted, fingerless gloves on each hand that nearly blended in with her skin tone. Dave's eyes continued to work their way down her legs, finding her thighs covered with light pink, sheer lace shorts that stopped mid thigh. The only thing keeping her "appropriate" were homemade, cut-off jean short shorts.

Dave couldn't help himself; he was captivated. He's never seen anyone dressed like she was, at least not in real life. It was like she stepped right out of an anime. She was incredibly unique. How was she able to pull that off so well?

Dave's eyes wandered down further to get a full view of her exposed, dancing legs. He couldn't help but wonder what it felt like to touch them.

She swiveled her hips in circles as she began to spin and whip her hair to the beat. Dave had this opportunity to move his eyes up, getting a perfect view of her butt, his body lighting up as his heart raced.

She had made a full turn, stopping in the direction of the two boys, catching their stares. Todd immediately turns his head to try and seem captivated by the clouds above, but Dave is not as quick to notice.

"Dave." Todd mumbles, eyes dodging the girl's gaze, darting back and forth from his friend, the ground, and a very (not-so) interesting brick building behind the park. "Dave." Todd repeats, elbowing Dave in the side, finally snapping him out of his hypnosis.

"Ouch!" Dave yelps in surprise, turning to Todd who is looking at him wide eyed, trying to send him a message. Dave looks away from his friend and back to the table dancer. She was staring right at him with squinted eyes. They seem to make eye contact for a solid second before she abruptly lifts a hand to her forehead. She held up her pointer and pinky fingers. The 'rock and roll' symbol she held against her head imitated horns as scrunched her nose, sticking her tongue out like a child. The action shocked Dave, but he couldn't help but find her oddly adorable.

Todd is quick to snatch the handle at the top of Dave's backpack and drag him away to their bus stop at the end of the street. The ride home was a pretty quiet one after that.

》》》

Two weeks have passed since he'd first seen the strange girl. Every spare chance he got during spring break was spent taking advantage of his vigilante skills for the wrong reasons. He had secretly visited that park numerous times, watching his girl and her friend group from afar. He knew that stalking was not how he should've gone about this, but he also didn't see walking straight up to her and introducing himself as an option either.

Something was definitely wrong with him. There is no good reason for him to know where she lives, but he convinced himself it was just to ensure she got home safe. Tonight only enforced that thought.

Usually she would walk home with at least one friend for good measure, but for some unknown reason to Dave, she walked alone.

Today, she had on an extra baggy hoodie. One that he came to know as one of her favorites. It reached the tops of her bare thighs, the hem of her mini skirt just visible below. She wore leg warmers that matched the color of her hoodie and worn combat boots. She had a small backpack that looked like wings on her back, decked out in pins of all kinds. The oversized hood was perched on top of her head.

She was always good about checking her surroundings and looking over her shoulder when walking alone, but this wasn't a matter of a sneak attack.

Dave watched as an older man stepped out in front of his strange girl. Dave couldn't hear the exact dialog due to their distance and the passing people and cars, but he for sure knew that whatever was being said was not welcomed.

"No. Thank you. I'd rather be left alone." Dave heard that loud and clear, so why did this creepy guy not take the hint and leave?

The man abruptly reached for her arm, and gripped it tight. Dave took off in a sprint.

"Get your hands off me, asshole!"

"Don't be a fucking tease-"

"Hey!" Dave cut the guy off, running up behind her. "Didn't you hear what she said, creep? Let her go!" He said firmly. Both the creepy guy and the girl's eyes look over to Dave, both of them giving him a once over. Her eyes were full of confusion, one thinly drawn brow raised. The man scoffed at the kid.

"What the fuck is this?" he shoots back. Dave squares his shoulders and raises his masked chin. "How about you mind your fucking business, princess, before you get hurt." the man follows up, making fun of Dave's costume.

"Let. Her. Go." Dave repeats sternly. The guy laughs in his face.

"Or what, leotard?" Dave follows up by removing the batons from behind his back. He points one at the man.

"Or else I'll have to beat you until you let go?" He says confidently. The girl cringes, that was not nearly as intimidating as he thought it was. The guy laughs again, flicking out a pocket knife. The two men stood there in a stare down. Their pause gave the girl a chance to yank her arm from the man's grasp, simultaneously using her other hand to whip out a pink taser decorated like a mini Gameboy. She shoves the sparked end into the side of the creep's neck, causing him to twitch and spasm. She holds it there until the man falls to the ground twitching, presumably unconscious. She takes her booted foot and jumps into a hard kick to the man's side.

"Fuck you, dipass!" Dave stands there shocked. The girl's gaze switches to face him. He lifts his hands in surrender and slowly puts his batons back. The girl takes one big step closer to Dave. He jumps back, but she is quick to grab one of his hands and begin dragging him down the route of towards her apartment.

They walk a couple blocks and round a corner in silence before she stops abruptly and turns to Dave. He stands there staring, absolutely shell shocked. "Who are you and what do you think you're doing!?" She asks, putting two hands on her hips and resting her weight on one side.

"Uh-" Dave stutters. The girl raises her brows expectantly. "I, uh- I was trying to help you." The girl's brows draw together as she squints.

"Thank you, but, to be honest, you didn't really do much, and that only answered one of my questions."

"Uh, I'm, uh- The name's KickAss." The girl stares at him in disbelief for a good five seconds, searching his eyes for any sense of a joke.

When she doesn't find anything, she lets out a "pfft" and giggles. "You're joking, right?" She raises her brows with a grin.

"Uh, no. I'm not…" Dave's eyes look everywhere but at her.

"I-," giggle, "I'm sorry." Another giggle, " I don't mean to be rude, but KickAss?" Dave smiles nervously, instinctual reaching for the back of his head. "You really need a rebranding, my guy." She says, an amused smile still playing on her lips. Her eyes didn't hold any malice or judgement, just intrigue.

"Yeah, well, I'm obviously not that creative." He laughs nervously. Dave looks back to her, finally getting a proper look at her up close. She's smiling… at him. God, he was going to faint.

"Jesus, your eyes." She says suddenly, catching Dave off guard. "They're gorgeous, my god." She huffs a short laugh, staring into his eyes. Dave can't keep eye contact for long, completely flustered. He thanked the powers that be that he had a mask on at this very moment. He was sure he was as red as ever.

"Thank you." He looks down. "You, uh, your eyes are beautiful, too." He says sheepishly. She laughs, shaking her head.

"Oh, please. They're just a normal, old brown. Nothing compared to your stunners. Wow." She throws back at him. "Well, I appreciate you stepping in, KickAss." She thanks, putting emphasis on his 'name'.

"No problem. You seem to have it handled without me." His illusion of 'stalking for protection' ruined.

"Nonsense! Thankfully, I didn't need you to start a fight this time. The fact that you even stepped in at all when you saw something means a lot, so thank you." She clasps her hands in front of her, swaying side to side.

"Can I walk you the rest of the way?" He asks. She shakes her head.

"As sweet as that is, no, thank you. I don't quite know how I feel about masked men knowing where I live." She teases. "Plus, it's not much further. I'll be okay." She smiles at him, again. Dave can't decide if he wishes she'd stop looking at him or if he wishes she'd keep her gaze on him forever. She begins walking away, "Thanks, again! See you around!" She shouts behind her, turning another corner.

》》》

Two months have passed. Shortly after their first, up close, encounter, Dave made it a point to walk her home every chance he got, always when she was alone. Well, not every time. She started to get suspicious as to how he always knew when she was walking alone. "Are you following me?" She'd ask, Dave giving an unconvincing 'pfft' and a 'no', causing her to roll her eyes. After that, he made sure to space out their walks but still following her from a distance. It's now nearing the end of June, and his graduation date is only a couple weeks out.

This night was a first. She invited Dave in. His eyes widened in shock, "Yeah, sure!" He said a little too enthusiastically, internally cringing at himself, but his awkwardness only caused her to giggle.

She nods, "Okay. My brother is home, so you'll have to sneak in. I'll go in first. Just turn the corner," she points, "and use the fire escape ladder to get to the fourth window up. My window has a collection of ninja turtle action figures on the sill." Dave opens his mouth to say something, but she continues, "Wait there until I come in. I just have to let my brother know I'm home first, then I can disappear into my room." Dave sits his mouth and nods. "Okay, I'll see you up there!" She smiles, jogging into the building.

Dave watches her jog up the stairs until he can't see her anymore. He then makes his way around the building and, as instructed, climbs up the fire escape. He gets to her window with ease. Through the parted curtains, he could see into her dark room. The light in the hallway provided little to illuminate the room from the bottom of the closed door, but thanks to the setting sun, Dave could clearly see the four little trinkets on her windowsill. It made him smile. She was a little nerdy, too.

"Ok, I'll order the pizza!" Before Dave could analyze her room any further, she bursts through the door, tossing her bag on the floor. She turns, closing and locking the door before running up to the window. She throws the curtains open and slides up the window, smiling brightly at him. "Hola."

"Buenas Noches, señorita." Dave says, again cringing at his choice of words, getting a laugh out of her.

"Vamos." She says, stepping aside. He climbs through the window, trying his best to avoid disrupting the figures. "You up for pizza?" She asks once he's fully inside.

Dave nods, looking around at her room. "Yeah, sure."

She smiles up at him, gesturing to her room, "Bienvenido a mi casa." She says dramatically. "Make yourself at home, señor KickAss."

Dave chuckles at her, shaking his head. "Gracias." His accent is still strongly American, but four years of Spanish didn't make it the worst. He goes to sit on the plush bench at the end of her bed. He figured that was a safe bet. He wasn't on her bed, but he also wasn't awkwardly sitting at her desk in the corner of the room. It was a kind of middle ground. His eyes follow her as she goes over to her old school boombox, graffitied with stickers, and turns on some music, low enough for them to hear each other, but just loud enough to disguise their voices from any eavesdropping. "Do I need to worry about your brother?" He asks playfully, deep down a little nervous.

"No, he's playing video games with our cousins online. He can't hear a thing with his-"

"AHHH! NO MAMES WEY!" a scream can be heard, as if on queue, scaring the fuck out of Dave.

She rolls her eyes, continuing, "headphones on." She sits on her bed, crawling over to rest her bare legs on the empty cushion next to Dave. She grabs her laptop that was laying on the bed and opens it up. "What kind of pizza do you like?" She asks, typing away.

"Uh, whatever." He says, unsure.

"Well, guess we can't go wrong with half pepperoni and half cheese." She says, placing the order. "My brother is pretty boring when it comes to pizza." Another scream could be heard in the background, promoting another eyeroll. Dave chuckles a little, nodding.

He twiddles his thumbs before asking, "So, why did you invite me in?" The girl shrugs her shoulders, still typing and clicking away.

"I dunno. You've walked me home nearly everyday for the passed 2 months, and I've grown to trust you. Every time we part ways, I feel the urge to keep you around. I figured it was about time we hung out for more than just a few blocks." She closes her laptop hallway and sets it to the side. His heart flutters.

Dave looks at her stunned. "You want to hang out with me?" The girl squints at him.

"Um, yeeaaah. What kind of question is that?"

"I, uh- I mean- it's just- you know-..." He stutters. She giggles at him.

"What?"

"I mean, you're just so cool, and I'm, you know-"

She looks at him amused. "You're what? A cool vigilante guy who is sweet and funny and someone who should totally should give himself more credit." She bends her legs, nudging him softly with her knee. She scoots down the bed a little to sit closer to Dave, holding her knees to her chest. She uses her oversized sweatshirt to encompass her entire body. Dave looks at her with admiration, his heart racing again, before looking away from her and down at the bench below him. "I don't hear a 'Gracias' or a 'Tienes razón, mi hermosa. Eres muy inteligente y eres la mujer más bella del mundo. Gracias por todo, mi amor.'" She goes on.

Dave laughs, "Thank you. I don't know if you're right, but you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen." Dave says boldly but still avoiding eye contact, looking down at his hands.

The girl's eyes widen, "You speak Spanish?" She looks horrified, embarrassed by the words of praise she tried to get him to say.

"A little." He twiddles his thumbs more, "I've been taking Spanish all throughout high school. I am no expert, but I can get around." He shrugs.

"Welp, that's embarrassing." the girl reaches up to tug hard on the strings of her hoodie, hiding her face in the fabric. Dave looks up and reaches for her hands.

"Que? No 'gracias'?" He teases, trying to get a look at her face. He has no clue what is coming over him, but he is becoming a bit more comfortable. His heart is still pounding, but seeing her get flustered brought his confidence up. She peers out from inside her hoodie. Her wide eyed look nearly floored him. He was forever grateful that he was already seated or else his knees would have buckled.

"Gracias,... señor KickAss." She says playfully, trying to make up for her embarrassment by joking off. He offers her a soft smile, melting her. It was now her turn to avoid his eyes. Her eyes make their way over to the stereo. "So… you're still in high school?" She asks, looking back to him, wearily.

He nods, "Y-Yeah, but not for long." He says quickly, the realization coming quick that they don't actually know each other's ages. "I graduate in like 2 weeks." Her nonexistent brows raise as she nods. "Are you?"

She shakes her head, "No, I tested out, got my diploma early. I couldn't be bothered with high school anymore." She shrugged. Dave's brows shot up. She really was smart. "It's just me and my brother. The earlier I got out of high school, the more time I had. It allowed me to help out with bills and whatever, get us a nicer place." She gestures to the room around her. "I mean, it may not seem like much, but trust me when I say it's a million times better than where we were." She then takes the time to look around and appreciate her surroundings.

Dave's look of admiration returns. "You're amazing." He blurts out. The girl's eyes find him, holding his eye contact, again with this wide eyed stare. She was gonna kill him. Her heart stopped when she looked in his eyes and found nothing but honesty and softness. She gives him a little smile. My god, Dave was literally going to pass out.

》》》

Dave didn't seem to notice, but hours went by with them talking, eating pizza, and talking some more. It was now pitch black outside, and the only light in the room was coming from her bedside lamps and a flickering candle.

By now, both of them had made their way into the bed. Dave was laying on his back, watching the ceiling while she was laying on her stomach perched up on her elbow, watching him. They were currently both comfortably silent, the soft music still playing in the background. She guessed that her brother must have fallen asleep at his console by now, considering there weren't any more frustrating cries or exciting cheers heard from across the apartment. Dave is the first to interrupt the silence between them. "Would it be a terrible idea to take my mask off right now?"

The girl gasps dramatically, placing a hand on her chest, "and reveal your secret identity, Zorro?" She lets out a short laugh, this causes Dave to let out a tired smile.

"I'm being serious." There's a pause.

"Well…" the girl starts, "you know, once you do so, there's no going back. I'm not so much of a bitch that I'd ever expose you, but you know… it's a big step."

"Is it in the right direction?" he asks, turning his head to look over at her. They stare deeply into each other's eyes.

She sighs, "I'm sorry, babe, but that's a decision you'll have to make on your own." The pet name catches Dave off guard. He nods and sits up, causing the girl next to him to follow suit, twisting her body so she's cross crossed and facing him. Dave takes a deep breath and reaches for the back of his mask. Just as his gloved hands meet the fabric, he felt a smaller hand touch his. "Are you sure?... Absolutely positive?"

He doesn't move, "Positive." He replies. She lefts go of his hand and he pulls the mask forward and off his head. He kept his head down for a second, taking in a deep breath. He could feel her eyes staring at the side of his head.

He looks up and turns to her. They make eye contact for a good 3 second before her sleeve covered hands come flying up to her face, covering her eyes. "Oh my god!"

"Oh my god, what?!" Dave panics.

"You're hot!" She exclaims. Wow, did she really know how to throw Dave off. He watches her, shocked. "This feels wrong, oh my god!" She says, muffled by her sleeves. "I should not be seeing this right now." Dave smiles a little. How does she do this? She's just too cute.

He reaches up for her hands, "Well, like you said, there's no going back, babe." He says, pulling her hands down. Her eyes were squeezed shut, scrunching up her face in what Dave thought was the most adorable way. "Oh, don't be a baby. Open your eyes." He says. She squeezes them even harder just before opening them up, like ripping off a bandaid.

She lets out a sigh as her eyes roam over every feature. She takes a moment to just admire his face before giggling when her eyes make their way to his hair. "What?" Dave asked, this time not panicked, but amused.

She giggles some more, smiling wide. "Your hair is a mess." She says finally, biting her smile.

He rolls his eyes, "Yeah, I don't really do face reveals, so I didn't bother thinking of a way to properly tie my hair up under the mask."

She smiles at him softly, her eyes relaxed. She reaches up to touch his cheek. It's warm and a little sweaty from being stuck under a mask for the last several hours. They get lost in each other's eyes. Dave's jaw was slack, lips parted slightly. Her features still held her soft smile.

"I think I love you." Dave says abruptly, taking her aback.

"What?-"

"I just always feel so safe and comfortable around you, and I love how you're so unapologetically yourself, and you are always so kind and beautiful, and I can't help but find myself always thinking about you, and I'm always wondering if you're thinking about me to, which I hope you do, because I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I wasn't on your mind the way you're on mine, and ever since I saw you dancing on that picnic table when Todd and I were walking to the bus stop and you made that weird adorable little devil horn face thing, I knew I just had to know you, like I was drawn to you, and-"

"Wait, that was you?"

Dave ignores get question and continues rambling, "and I know we're just kids, but I can't think of a better way to live life than with you, and I want us to be together. I want to go to see your favorite scary movies with you, even though it confuses me as to why you still go to them when you say they always scar you, and I want to hold your hand and be there for you when you're scared. I want to go see those bands you always talk about in concert with you. I want to learn every lyric to every one of your favorite songs just to impress you when they come on. I want to hold you at night when you've had a bad day and don't know what to do with yourself. I want to keep you safe and always make sure you're happy. I want to be the reason you smile. I want to walk with you forever, stay by your side. I want to fall asleep beside you every night and wake up to you every morning, and I want nothing more than to hear you say you love me and tell me you love me the same way I love you, and I-"

"Dave, shut up!" She says with a smile, her eyes glistening. "Breathe." They both take a deep breath together. "If you keep going, you'll turn blue." They share a small laugh. "Can I kiss you?" She asks.

Without responding, Dave dives forward and kisses her full force. They deepen the kiss, her other hand reaching up to caress his other cheek, his hands resting on the bed, one on each side of her knees.

Without breaking the kiss, Dave moves to readjust. He pulls her closer, moving her to sit in his lap. She follows his lead, getting up to straddle him. Dave wraps his arms around her waist, hugging her closer to him. She arches her back, "accidentally" grinding against him. Dave is first to break the kiss with a gasp, his hands immediately making their way to her hips. She opens her eyes to find Dave's squeezed shut with his eyebrows narrowed together. His blue eyes open to meet hers after a second, both of them breathing heavily, Dave's eyes wide and innocent, looking up at her.

"Sorry." He says, embarrassed that she was able to affect him so easily. She grins, shaking her head.

"Don't be sorry. It's good to know I have such an effect on you." She leans down to rest her forehead on his. She squishes his check together, pushing him down to the bed, his hands finding themselves caressing her now exposed butt from under the mini skirt she still wore. He felt all the blood drain from his head downward. "Should we keep going?" She asks. Dave nods furiously, no longer able to form words.

She leans in slowly to plant a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you, too."

》》》

Moodboard (exposing "y/n") on my page under #weird girl swiss fic

[onbearfeet]

March Patreon Flash Story!

This month's story is a quick one based on a prompt I found while googling desperately: "The funeral was at noon." I hadn't planned on having anyone attend any funerals, but Maggie has her reasons, and I suddenly found myself wondering whatever happened to the Jimmy Olsens of my universe after the capes all disappeared.

Since I ended up not using the one prompt I got, I decided I'm entitled to post the story here without consulting anyone. MWAHAHAHA.

For more context on this 'verse, see my AO3 (onethingconstant) or the tag "Untitled Superhero Project" on this blog.

For the Living

The funeral was at noon, in a quiet little church in Indiana. There had been no announcement—well, no public announcement.

Snap Anderson had been old-school—the oldest school, he would have said. He’d been wearing Jetfighter’s signal watch since 1961, and even after the mirror-helmeted alien had gone down in flames in 1982, Snap had kept wearing the watch, deactivated and silent, as a memorial to his best friend. He’d been a lot of people’s best friend, actually—half of Vanguard’s ever-changing lineup had counted Snap as an ally or a sidekick at one point or another, and there were as many clips of Snap attending heroes’ funerals as there were of him saying outlandish things on talk shows.

Now, Snap’s own funeral had barely a dozen people huddled in the pews.

Maggie slipped in through the back of the church after the organ started up, feeling the tag on her stolen black dress itch between her shoulder blades. Coming here had been a risk, she knew; most of Snap’s social circle had vanished in white light three years ago, and she was in serious danger of standing out in a crowd that would surely all know whoever was left. Being the only likely attendee under fifty wouldn’t help, either.

But it had been on her way to New York, and she couldn’t resist.

She scurried down the aisle in her stolen kitten heels, trying to look like she’d been caught in midday traffic, and slid into the first open seat in the frontmost empty pew. Everyone was singing, droning along to a song she hadn’t heard growing up in St. Joseph’s, so she stared at the floor and mumbled watermelon watermelon watermelon until it was time to stop.

The eulogy was bland, from what she could tell, and seemed to have copied several sentences verbatim from Snap’s Wikipedia page. That didn’t stop the occasional sob or sniffle from the gathered mourners. She wasn’t sure they were listening either.

One of the nuns had told her once that funerals are for the living, not the dead. Maybe the words didn’t matter as long as someone said them. As long as someone said something.

She wondered whether anyone would say anything when she died. Probably not, except for whoever had to clean up the mess.

The eulogy ended, and the organ started up again, and as the creaky mourners levered themselves out of their pews for a final round of what sounded like “Oh God Triumphant And Invisible”, Maggie craned her neck and saw it.

Standing by the head of the casket, just for an instant, was a tall figure in black body armor, half-swathed in a long black cloak, with a gleaming white mask carved to look like a grinning skull. It wasn’t a friendly skull, or even a particularly scary one. Not a Día de los Muertos calavera or a grinning rubber Halloween mask from a party store. It looked like someone had simply taken an ordinary human skull off a pile of them somewhere, sliced off the front of it, and glued it to the front of an otherwise formless black void.

Got you, you bastard, Maggie snarled to herself. The obituary had said Snap had died a natural death, but she knew better now.

Skullfaced freak never could resist a good chance to gloat.

The figure vanished again before she could so much as twitch out of her seat, and no one else in the little congregation reacted, but that was all right. She knew what she’d seen.

When the service ended, she retrieved her pack from behind the dumpster where she’d stashed it and wrote another name in her notebook. The dress and shoes went into the trash, her jeans and sneakers went back on, and she was walking toward the bus station before Snap Anderson’s casket was back in the hearse.

[cadabria]

Come Wayward Souls || The Beast x GN! Reader

PROLOGUE

"Come, wayward souls,

Who wander through the darkness,

There is a light for the lost and the meek,

Sorrow and fear are easily forgotten,

When you submit to the soil of the earth."

These were the verses that once echoed hauntingly throughout these now decrepit forests during the nightfall, an enchanting tune filled with vacant and unfulfilled promises, sugar-coated words sung so tantalizingly by a being that nobody dared to speak of. They did not know of the true name of this entity, but with quivering lips they simply called it by the only thing befitting such an unspeakable monster...

"The Beast".

Yet two of the last wayward souls, a pilgrim and a charming little boy with his slippery, croaking companion, who just as many unwary children before them embarked into the seemingly endless unknown brought with them a shimmer of hope, of life, and were guided through their journey by a single bluebird. It was not long before they stumbled across the mournful woodsman, who was entrapped in the silver threads of The Beast.

The Beast, clever and ceaselessly working behind the scenes, kept a watchful eye on the lost boys for many days and many nights. His pull on the woodsman's strings weakened, and it was not long before the true source of the Edelwood was realized... And for the first time, the woodsman refused to accept The Beast's bargains.

Grow, tiny seed,

You are gone to the trees,

"Give me my lantern." The deep, deceivingly soothing voice of The Beast bellowed from the void of the forest, hollowed milky eyes piercing through the glooming darkness.

"Your lantern...?" The pilgrim questioned, before the bluebird interjected.

"No way, we need this thing!"

Rise,

'Till your leaves fill the sky,

Contemplating for merely a moment, the pilgrim agreed,"Yeah, i'm keeping this! I have to get Greg home."

"Your brother is too weak to go home." The Beast stated firmly, raising his hands to emphasize his words,"He will soon become a part of my forest."

Clutching the lantern's handle tightly, the pilgrim kept his gaze firm on The Beast, outwardly he was determined, but on the inside he could feel the anxiety creeping in, slow like a snake stalks its prey,"I won't let that happen!"

Until your sights,

Fill the air in the night,

The Beast leaned down slightly, his glowing pearly orbs unblinkingly striking deep into the pilgrim's weary soul,"Well then, perhaps we better make a deal."

As the woodsman wailed weakly, limp on the unforgiving soil and barely conscious, the conversation continued,"Deal?" The pilgrim uttered, uncertain.

"I can put his spirit in the lantern. As long as the flame stays lit, he will live on inside." With a hand as black as the starless sky, The Beast extends it towards our pilgrim,"Take on the task of lantern bearer... Or watch your brother perish."

Lift your mighty limbs,

And give praise,

The pilgrim's gaze lowers to the lantern in his hand, a look of defeat crosses his expression as he allows a low sigh to cross his lips. He was willing to sacrifice anything for his dearest brother.

"Okay."

The bluebird tried to gain the pilgrim's attention, however her words were but muffled sounds, empty and devoid of meaning in that very moment. That was, until... The pilgrim came to a sudden realization. Snatching the lantern back before The Beast could hook his claws into him... His stare hardened.

To the fire...

"Wait. That's dumb." The pilgrim argued, taking a few steps away from the shadowy figure that towered menacingly above him.

Although unseen, a sickening sneer appeared on The Beast's expression,

"What?"

"That's dumb! I'm not just gonna wander around in the woods for the rest of my life." The pilgrim continued, keeping his gaze stern.

The Beast loomed closer, his usual deep, hauntingly calm voice turning into something more deadly... Menacing and filled with a promise of the most deadliest of torments. "I'm trying to help you."

Connecting the details, it took only a moment for the pilgrim to put the pieces together, and for The Beast's guise to bleed into a puddle across the cold earth beneath them,"You're not trying to help me. You just have some weird obsession with keeping this lantern lit. It's almost like... Your soul is in this lantern."

Dramatically, the air shifts, becoming deathly cold and suffocating as The Beast let's out an ear-splitting growl that shakes the trees around them with an earth shattering force. His body violently contorts in a mixture of foul, disgustingly unfathomable horrors and the pilgrim is subjected to the whims of his darkness as the light that illuminates from the lantern dissipates abruptly.

A look of terror crosses the poor pilgrim's face, as The Beast's form grows higher and higher, his now distorted voice scathing against his ears like hot coals,"Are you ready to see true darkness?"

Shaking with horror, and voice wavering, the pilgrim does not back down,"A-Are you...?" He cleared his voice, before standing his ground more firmly. He narrows his eyes, pulling the glass open on the lantern,"Are you?" With a deep inhale, he readies to blow out the lantern's intense flame.

Suddenly, The Beast retracts,"Don't...! Don't!" The desperation was clear, and it was abundantly obvious our pilgrim uncovered the harsh truth. The Beast was a liar, a deceiver, and the woodsman was merely a tool to prolong his inevitable end. With a scoff, the pilgrim handed the woodsman the lantern to deal with The Beast on his own. For the pilgrim cared for one thing and one thing only right now: His brother.

Breaking his brother free from the branches of the Edelwood, it was now merely the woodsman and The Beast.

The Beast attempted to ensnare the woodsman into his strings once more, but they were all but cut off, irreparable. No longer would the woodsman be his puppet and him the puppeteer, and in a fit of anguish and seething rage, the woodsman blew out the flame forevermore so that The Beast could never come to harm anyone ever again. He destroyed the lantern and threw it down a river, where it sunk to its depths and was swept away by the currents to never be seen. To never return.

All the wayward souls were finally free, the horrors of The Beast lost within time and soon to be long forgotten.

... Or at least, that was how it should have been.

[softhued]

Unspoken Desire

warnings: nsfw, fwb, possessive sex, light spanking & choking, dirty talk, feelings, pining

word count: 4k

11:37 pm.

You sat awake, debating whether you should message him or not, and nearly pulled your hair out over something that should have been so minuscule. “Ugh”, you groaned, frustration consuming you as an internal battle raged inside and ripped you in two. One side begged you to swallow your pride and send a quick message, which seemed simple enough, but the other side cringed at just the thought, grimacing at being perceived as desperate, needy, or dependent.

But the longer you stalled, the more your needs steadily climbed until they were impossible to ignore and left a void ache.

You wanted to fuck him so so bad, the urge growing with each passing second as you wished for his presence, but the idea of messaging first held you back. In turn, you fell down the rabbit hole of overanalyzing his actions and jumping to conclusions. Even so, you knew you were being a bit dramatic, but your assumptions seemed too plausible to your overactive mind.

Why didn't he message you, was he simply busy, or did he grow tired of you?

The latter being what you feared most.

He was always the one to initiate sex, sending you a message or video to show how badly he wanted you, which lit a fire within you. So, making the first move wasn’t appealing. It was too out of the norm of what you were accustomed to.

11:58 pm.

The time continued to tick by, and you still hadn’t worked up the courage. You took a deep breath, slowly inhaling and exhaling as you motivated yourself to bite the bullet before it was too late. Begrudgingly, you reached for your phone in a show of defeat as you let your yearning overpower your logic before you could change your mind.

Heyy.

Then you waited restlessly.

What if Shigaraki didn’t reply? What if he was already asleep?

You cursed aloud at the possibility, beating yourself up. You should’ve messaged earlier, instead, you wasted so much time because you let your nerves get the best of you, and now you weren't even sure if he was going to reply.

Bzzz.

The vibration from your phone had your heart slamming against your ribcage, and you snatched your phone up quicker than you’d like to acknowledge, but you were dying for his attention and anticipating his response.

What's up?

You stared at his reply blankly.

That’s what he gave you to work with, you complained as if you did any better. An exasperated sigh slipped from your lips as you concluded that you had to take matters into your own hands.

Nothing... just wanted to see what you were up to.

Once you hit send you started to overthink your reply. Playing coy wasn’t getting you anywhere, but you hoped he would pick up on the tiny signals you were giving. You were irritated at your inability to say what you wanted, and the constant beating around the bush made this so much harder than need be.

If you want to fuck, just say that.

He supplied, which was the push that you so desperately needed.

Despite not being in his vicinity, you knew there was a smirk plastered onto his face at being able to see through you. After spending a fair amount of time together, he became well-versed in your tell-tales, which infuriated you. He knew you a bit too well for your liking, making it nearly impossible to hide your true feelings, but for him to put you on the spot in such a crass manner made you want to prove him wrong.

That's not why I was messaging you, but I'm not against it.

You retorted, in an attempt to regain the upper hand while also hinting that you were interested, which was a severe understatement, but you couldn’t let him know just how badly you ached for him.

He laughed at your message. You were unbelievable, but he was fine with letting you keep up your little charade since you both knew the truth, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

On my way.

Your mouth gaped in surprise. It actually worked.

Those three small words held so much power, immediately changing your mood at the thought of getting what you craved most. Him. You smiled, now giddy, as you went to freshen up. To your benefit, you didn’t have to wait long before he notified you that he was here.

“Hey,” you greeted while nonchalantly opening the door for him like you weren’t excitedly awaiting his arrival.

Once you locked the door behind him, you were being pushed against it as he leaned over you, enclosing you within his arms, leaving only a small space between you. Your body tingled at his proximity, causing your mind to spiral and flood you with visions of endless possibilities of what he could do to you.

You could feel his warmth seeping through his clothes, and it took everything in you not to rub against him and reveal just how clingy you were. So, you schooled your expression, hiding away all signs that showed his effect on you as you cast your eyes up to meet his hungry ones, reveling in his presence as you looked at him temptingly.

He was so attractive.

Every aspect of him had your body thrumming in anticipation. From the way he looked at you, slowly raking his eyes over your figure with barely concealed lust. How he towered over you and easily made you susceptible to his wishes. You wanted him to take you right against the door, allowing his primal urges to take over and display how he couldn’t restrain himself when it came to you. That he craved you so badly that all rational thinking flew out the window whenever you were near. That he needed you just as badly as he needed to breathe.

You could feel his cool breath on your lips, making your eyes lower before you returned his gaze. The urge to kiss him was nearly impossible to stamp down, it was overwhelmingly suffocating, making you dizzy due to the lack of oxygen flowing to your brain. You were flipped inside out when he was near. The facade that you maintained slowly crumbled away bit by bit in his vicinity, and your true feelings and desires became more noticeable to his critical eye.

He was only a few inches away, making it incredibly easy to press your lips against his to show him how deeply you ached for him and to finally silence those overpowering thoughts. The ones that were afraid of baring yourself to him only to be hurt in return, and you’d have no one to blame but yourself.

You knew not to get close, that this was only a temporary fix that you silently hoped to become permanent. Despite yourself, you let the sweet nothings and whispered promises in the throes of passion get to you.

With your remaining dignity, you brushed those thoughts aside and waited for him to make the next move.

Silence and tension filled the space between you, thickening the air, as he made no move other than placing his hands on your hips. He slowly caressed your exposed skin with his thumbs, leaving a path of goosebumps after each graze, making you hold back a shiver underneath his addicting touch. You needed so much more to sate your steadily growing thirst.

The more your arousal increased, the quicker your patience wore thin. His soft touches only made you needier, imagining what it would take for his grip to turn harsh. You moved forward, putting your lips closer to his and subtly green lighting his advances, but he didn’t react.

“What are you waiting for?” you nearly whined, weaponizing the best pout you could muster.

“For you to tell the truth about why you messaged me,” his fingers moved to graze your cheek. “We both know why.”

That was a loaded request.

Did you only message him for physicality or something more?

“Do we?” you questioned while sliding your hands along the planes of his stomach, feeling his lean torso beneath your fingertips. You silently hoped that an indirect answer would suffice as your yearning grew exponentially with each passing second. And you couldn’t bear dealing with the emotional turmoil that was going to eat you alive if you opened that door.

He moved in closer, slotting his thigh between your legs, and applied pressure to your core, stopping all thoughts. You whimpered at the feeling of his thigh against your wet cunt, and your hips canted against him, pushing against his leg for the right amount of friction as his dark eyes readily tracked the motion. Every slow drag of your hips wordlessly begged him for more as your shorts dampened further.

His hands returned to your hips, ceasing your movements. “You don’t get what you want until you tell the truth," he responded, moving away from you and ending all contact.

You attempted to gather your bearings as he left you high and wet dry. You were speechless. Did he really come over just to play games? Why did it matter whether you directly admitted your wants or not? You were offering yourself to him on a platter, which said enough, parading around in the hope of tempting him, but he was unwavering.

He headed to your bedroom, where he’s been multiple times, leaving you behind.

Stunned, you followed behind him like a lost puppy in need of attention. Watching him remove his hoodie before he settled into your bed, resting against the headboard as if lounging in your home was the ultimate reason for his visit.

You crossed your arms over your chest at the sight of him, “are you serious right now?” you couldn’t hide your irritation even if you tried. If your voice didn’t give you away, your expression and body language worked together to expose you.

You wanted to scream. You were so pent up, ready to explode, and the one person you needed to alleviate your tension was being stubborn. The both of you were too much alike, which you often found amusing, but now it was infuriating.

He simply smirked at you in response, crossing his arms behind his head for support. You stood there dumbly, staring at him as if that would change his mind.

After a moment of stillness and heated glares, you walked over to him, crawling onto the bed before you settled onto his lap.

“How long are you gonna keep this up?” you asked, looking down at him. From your position, you could feel his hard cock beneath you. You lifted an eyebrow at his body’s response. He was worked up just like you, but he was willing to hold himself back to prove a useless point. You were right there within his grasp, ready to take everything he was willing to give, but other than his dick, he was unresponsive.

“As long as it takes,” he challenged.

At his reply, you ground your pussy against his crotch, relishing in the friction that he abruptly took away from you earlier. “Oh really,” you retorted, leaning over his relaxed form.

He couldn’t resist you forever.

He chose to ignore you as you moved your hips against his. If he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted, you could apply enough pressure until he cracked. You brought your face to his neck, breathing in his scent before pressing your lips to his skin. You applied more pressure, marking his skin with your wet mouth, and intentionally targeted the most sensitive spots on his neck.

Your tongue lapped at his neck sensually before you slowly sucked on his sweet spot. Watching as your mark bloomed on his neck once you pulled off with a dramatic smack of your lips. You smiled down at your work of art before moving to decorate an unmarked part of your canvas.

Shigaraki attempted to remain unfazed, but you could hear his breath hitch after you nipped his flushed skin. Seeing him turned on beneath you sent a thrill through your veins, and you were that much closer to reaching your goal. Before you could get ahead of yourself, he stopped you once again by gripping your hips a bit too tight.

“What’s wrong?” you feigned innocently.

His stare penetrated you, “I know what you’re trying to do,” he deadpanned, regaining his control.

“And what is that exactly?” you asked, maintaining your front. “I just want to make you feel good. Don’t you want that too?” you attempted to grind your hips down, but his hold restrained you and kept you glued in place.

“Once again, if you want to fuck me, you can just say that,” he chided.

He wanted nothing more than to hear you beg for him, to let him know how badly you longed for him to be inside of you, to fill you once and for all. Once you finally confessed, he would take care of you, but until then, you weren’t getting anything from him. No matter how much it pained him to wait.

“Who said I wanted to fuck you?” you countered, despite your position and previous actions heavily contradicting your words. Your entire body invited him in, your legs open and sprawled over his as you sat directly on what you wanted from him. You wouldn’t be surprised if he could feel your clit throbbing against him through your layers of clothing.

Shigaraki nodded at your response, digesting your retort. “I'll keep my hands to myself since I misread you.”

You were that much further away from your goal. In a short amount of time, you took one step forward and three back. You didn’t know how much more you could take. Constantly, going back and forth with him seemed to only dig you a deeper hole, and if you waited any longer it might be impossible to crawl out.

Desperately, you tried to swallow your pride, but there was a blockage in your throat that prevented you from speaking.

If you were going to get anywhere with him, you had to say what he wanted to hear. He already knew your intentions, so verbalizing them shouldn’t be too hard. It’s not like you were telling him your deepest darkest secrets. But something was holding you back.

The vulnerability that came with admitting that you craved him.

Your admission would let him know just how weak you were for him. A light would be shone on your silent wishes as you opened yourself up to him.

But he constantly showed how much he longed for you, so why couldn’t you do the same?

“I want you to fuck me,” you rushed out under your breath, avoiding eye contact with him. You spitting those words out was like pulling teeth.

“Huh. What was that?” he asked, despite hearing you clearly, but he needed you to say it louder if you really wanted to prove yourself.

You sighed dramatically, “you heard me.”

But, he was unmoving. He wasn’t going to let you off that easily.

“I. Want. You. To. Fuck. Me.” you stated clearer, enunciating each word.

“Now was that so hard,” he teased, pulling at your clothes. Since you satisfied his wish, he was ready to grant yours.

You rolled your eyes but helped him remove your clothing, desperately wanting to feel his body pressed against yours. He already made you wait longer than expected, so you didn’t want to waste any more time. He flipped your positions, hovering over you as he rid himself of his last bits of clothing.

“I can’t wait to be inside you,” he mumbled against your lips, flaming the fire within you. You pulled him down even closer as you took the next step to connect your lips. Your lips uniting was like a breath of fresh air replenishing your lungs.

Shigaraki groaned at the contact, pressing his lips harder into your plush ones. His fingers crept between your bodies, moving between your legs as you spread them further, allowing him to do as he pleased.

His fingers caressed your slit before parting your lips and circling your hole. He was greeted with the feeling of your slick juices coating his fingers.

“You’re already wet,” he pointed out as he slowly pushed a digit into your welcoming body.

He faced no resistance as your warm wet walls accommodated him, sucking him in and coaxing him to stay. Another finger was pressed inside as he searched for your sweet spot, locating it quickly.

He rubbed against it, making you moan in response as a dangerous gleam filled his eyes as he intentionally brushed that tender spot. Your back arched, pressing your chest closer to his, and he watched how your hips moved closer to his enthusiastic hand, taking the reigns over your pleasure. His fingers maintained a slow pace, making your hole leak pathetically around his knowledgeable fingers.

You panted, shifting your hips against his hand for more, hoping for him to apply more pressure. In response, he held your hip down with his free hand as he continued to peak your excitement.

“What do we say when we want something?” he asked as if he was scolding a child that had forgotten their manners.

You were taken aback, but your lips were moving before you could process anything else. “Please. I need more,” you begged while letting your head fall back in ecstasy.

Satisfied with how quickly you listened, he placed a kiss on your forehead before praising you, “good girl.” Due to your obedience, he rewarded you with the addition of another finger and quickened his pace.

If you were about to cum that would’ve been enough to push you over the edge.

Your hole quivered at his praise. This side of him was unfamiliar, sex was never like this, but you were enjoying every second of his commanding presence, appreciating the way he effortlessly controlled you without lifting as much as a finger. It was attractive, and his air of confidence was doing something to you, fogging up your mind to where your only thoughts were to please and satisfy him.

You wanted to make him feel good too. To show him just how deep your desire ran. You reached for his dick, pressed between your bodies, but you stopped once you heard him suck his teeth at you.

There was that commanding presence once again, stopping you in your tracks. You pulled your hand back slightly while his hand continued to probe inside you, scrambling your thoughts and making it hard to speak.

“Can I t-touch you?” you stuttered out as your eyes fluttered.

When you received the go-ahead, you reached your hand down and wrapped it around his heated flesh, reveling in the feel of him in your palm. Your thumb swiped against his tip, smearing his precum along his length to aid your movements, making him groan. You looked down, taking in the pace of his fingers inside you, and copied his rhythm as you maintained the slick drag of your hand. His dick hardened even further in your grip as you stroked and lightly teased him. Shigaraki leaned down to claim your mouth again, and you enthusiastically responded, passionately moving your lips against his as you kept fondling him.

Your tongue tangled with his as you worked each other up, tasting each other more and more as the kiss deepened, and sensual gratification controlled both of your movements. Your actions were eager and hungry, making your stimulation much more enjoyable.

The palm of his hand rubbed against your swollen clit as he reached deeper within you, triggering a stuttered breath, “I'm close,” you alerted.

“I can tell. I feel you squeezing around me,” he responded, matter-of-factly. Your body temperature rose at his arrogance. He knew your body in and out, making it his job to give you the most earthshaking pleasure, and he was proud of how well he was able to bring you to your knees.

“I need you in me,” you begged, your grip on his dick faltering as your pleasure forced its way to the forefront of your mind. You could only focus on the sensations running rampant within you, which consumed your entire being. Your brain wasn't working as he quickened his pace, fucking his fingers into you faster. The heat in your lower half continued to flourish as your chest heaved.

Your belly clenched as the string you were clinging to snapped, and your body trembled against his frame as you mindlessly begged for him, needing to be filled more than ever as your hole clamped around his digits. His fingers continued to fuck you through your release, leaving you a whining and blubbering mess.

Once you came down, he removed his fingers, placing them in his mouth to taste your release as he eyed you spent beneath him.

He spread your legs further, wrapping them around his waist, and leaned over you while aligning his painfully hard cock with your cunt. His head nudged against your sensitive hole before he pushed into you, wasting no time to connect you physically. Your hands briefly gripped his shoulders as he impaled you on his length before he secured them above your head, immobilizing you.

You tugged against his hold to no avail, wanting something to hold onto as he continued to spread you open. Your hole stretched in response, gripping along his length tightly.

You leaned your head back while his hips repeatedly pushed into yours. This was so much better than you were expecting. Unadulterated passion surrounded you both as he solely focused on the feeling of you wrapped around him. One hand kept you restrained as his other hand went to play with your overstimulated and throbbing clit.

“Shigaraki,” you moaned out, unable to form coherent thoughts, only capable of calling out his name as you trembled beneath him.

Having you fall apart due to him provided a great sense of gratification. He was going to make sure he ruined you for anyone else, molding your body just for him. You wouldn’t be able to even think about fucking anyone but him.

Only him.

Your mind was clouded over with lust. At that moment, he could get you to do anything he wanted if it meant he would keep going. You would bare yourself to him completely, telling him your deepest darkest desires, leaving no part hidden. You didn’t want this feeling to escape you, craving nothing more than to feel tingly and full for eternity.

You fought against his hold, desperately needing something to cling onto as your hands balled into fists. But his grip tightened in response, adamant on not letting your hands free.

Not being able to keep yourself grounded made you feel as if you were floating. You were so far away, and the constant pleasure worsened your state.

“Please. I want to touch you,” you begged desperately, nearly in tears at the all-consuming pleasure you felt in every inch of your body.

Your begging was such a stark contrast to your stubborn position earlier. A testament to him fucking all the sense out of you, making you a puddle of shamelessness. You couldn’t care less about how needy you sounded or what you looked like begging as long as he stayed inside you. You just needed him.

He ignored your plea, opting to quicken his pace, which made you forget what you were whining about. Your eyes shut, and your hands squeezed tighter, as you tried to level your breathing. Whimpers were pushed from your throat with each deep thrust. You were deliciously full, completely stuffed to your limits, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Watching you unravel in front of his eyes, only caused Shigaraki’s jealousy to rear its ugly head. He saw the looks you were too oblivious to see, the way people undressed you with their eyes. The number of people vying for your attention, but he was the one between your legs, making you lose your mind.

No one else could have you like this, not if he had a say. He was the only one who should be granted the sight of you bare and vulnerable beneath him.

While continuing to restrain you, one of his hands wrapped around your throat, giving you a light squeeze.

Your pussy fluttered in response as you watched him with half-lidded eyes. The sound of him drilling your cunt was loud to your ears, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel ashamed. Not when he was making you feel so good.

“Who do you belong to?” he demanded, tightening his grip even further as he hit unknown spots deep inside you.

All you could do was moan and whine in response, words failing you, only harsh pants escaping your mouth. Your eyes rolled back as your high inched closer and closer. Your legs tightened around his waist, pulling him in closer and deeper, not wanting him to escape you.

You felt Shigaraki squeeze your throat again as his gaze darkened.

“I asked you a question,” he commanded.

Your mind was whirling, and you felt like you were being consumed entirely.

“You,” you panted out. “Only you.”

You mustered up all your strength and brain power just to say those three words. His pace, his commands, and his grip worked in tandem to short-circuit your brain. All you could focus on was the feeling of him around you, inside you, everywhere. No one ever made you feel as good as he did, so you were a lost cause when it came to him.

You missed how his eyes dramatically darkened as he claimed ownership over you and the seriousness of his tone.

“Exactly. I'm the only one who can have you like this. No one but me. You understand?”

He released your wrists to hike your legs up to your chest, allowing him a better angle. He watched as your breasts and stomach jiggled due to each thrust and as you matched his demanding pace.

You couldn’t get enough of him. Each time you came back, he left you wanting more.

You were insatiable.

You nodded your head frantically.

You were his.

His position allowed him to batter your insides in a deliciously painful way. He was so deep, making your stomach clench with each thrust. Your hand moved to play with your clit, rubbing yourself frantically as you neared your climax.

His pelvis slapped against yours, echoing a clapping sound within your apartment while a cacophony of moans fell from your lips. Your free hand gripped his shoulder, painting his back with scratches from your nails as you captured his mouth in a messy kiss, tasting every bit of him.

Dewy white coated his dick as he fucked you through your high, making your eyes roll back and your body loosen. You let him take complete control as he pulled out and rolled you onto your stomach.

Your hips were hiked up while your head remained planted on the sheets before he pressed back into your warm, sopping hole.

“Shiggy, oh my god,” you whined.

He smirked at your reaction, looking down at the way your cunt struggled between clenching and stretching around his dick, and the only thing on his mind was to successfully ruin you for anyone else. He wouldn't give you up easily.

He pulled back, forcefully pressing inside again.

“How does it feel?” he questioned, knowing that you were delirious with lust and couldn't think straight. Your hands frantically grasped at the sheets near your head. “Hm? You like how deep I am?

His hands went to your waist, pulling you towards him with each thrust, entering you deeper than before. Your mouth parted in a silent scream as you struggled to stay coherent, and your breath caught in your throat while your poor overstimulated cunt took a beating.

A loud smack reverberated in the room, and the sting from your ass alerted you of what happened.

The smack snapped you back to your senses, and you opened your mouth before he could lift his hand again at your unwillingness to answer.

“I love it… love it so much,” you groaned, stroking his ego, a stark contrast to what you were so against earlier.

“I'm bout to cum” you warned, getting ready to tap out.

Your legs trembled due to each drag against your painfully sensitive walls. You were so weak, only laying there as Shigaraki took what he desired, helping himself to your responsive body.

“Good. Cum on my dick.”

That was all you needed to hear as you released onto his length, slick drenching his dick as he continued to move within you.

Your hands tightened on the sheets while you shoved your face into the mattress to muffle yourself.

“I’m almost there,” Shigaraki informed, increasing his pace to reach his peak.

Your body twitched, but you remained open for him, allowing him to use you. His dick twitched, and his thrusts lost their rhythm as his dick spurted inside you, making a mess between your legs. Your body slumped against the mattress as soon as Shigaraki pulled out.

His hands went to caress your skin, “was I too rough?” he asked, worry seeping through his voice.

You looked at him with tired eyes, a smile pulling at your lips, “no, it was perfect,” you conceded, not caring about how much your compliment would inflate his ego.

Based on the fucked out look on your face before you started to doze off, Shigaraki knew you weren’t going anywhere.

[voidtouched-blue]

FFXVI verse starter for @ifritmade

She could not take it anymore.

Cyra was tired of hiding. She was tired of running. She was tired of all of the people who kept trying to use her in an effort to obtain their false idea of immortality through her unique abilities. She was tired of all of the experiments, and the people poking and prodding at her to understand the differences in her body. Her unique figure was a credit to human cruelty and their lack of understanding. Even after she had heard the call of the otherworldly darkness, their whispers torturing her with every hurt repeated over and over again in an endless loop every night was driving her mad.

In her sleep she could not have peace. Not since she had accepted an offer for the power to defend herself against the malice of humanity. Yet, ever since the nightmares that once labored her sleep had spilled over into her waking hours. For a time, it had left her nearly comatose. It left her vulnerable.

Seated in a caravan set to transport branded from one corner of Storm to another, the other slaves that had the misfortune of being in the same wagon as herself were terrified. The hushed whispers, the maddening phrases she had spoken in her sleep had kept them silent for the initial stretch of the journey.

They hurt you. We must hurt them back. Make it hurt, make them suffer. Make it hurt, make them suffer. Make it hURt, MaKE THeM SuFFER.

The eerie voices that hissed in her head had not stopped repeating the same phrases in days. Not even in sleep could she have peace. The chant continued, and she just snapped.

She would return the malice to their pitiful and weak forms tenfold.

The girl did not hear the commands of the soldier at the door to the slaver's wagon shouting for her to exit. She barely remembered how he had died, but yet she stood there with his eviscerated corpse lying a gurling and bloodied mess at her feet. The sounds of screams around her, and angry shouts only added to the pandemonium in her head.

"You little shit-!" A soldier had charged at her, sword drawn and ready to strike. Her hands twitched, already slick with the dark essence of life that dripped from her dangerous fingertips. She felt the wind shift around her as the blade whistled through the air, her body reacting before she had even told it to, and the metal met nothing but dirt.

In her silence, her slitted eyes stared into the face of the taller man. The fear in his face told her that he was not yet ready to meet his doom, but she would be his reaper all the same. Her lips curled into a wicked snarl, every pointed tooth glistened in the light of the campfires. Such pitiful lamps would be swallowed in nothingness once she was done.

Another blink, and the second soldier had been gutted, and kneeling at her feet. Even in his clearly written fate, he begged her for mercy with pathetic wails. As her hair fell over her face in dark curtains, she focused on the agony writ in his face.

Feel as I feel. Suffer as I have suffered. You will see no mercy from me, worm.

Blackened tears leaked from her eyes as she permitted the void to guide her hand. Feeding on her anger, her rage, her despair...She gave it to them willingly. Cyra had spent her whole life in servitude. She had spent her whole life praying and hoping for a kinder placement. But the Gods never answered, and her body continued to be broken. She was a thing, to humans. And to even think that she had looked like them at some point in her life made her feel sick.

The things they had done to her, the violations of her body, her mind, her soul, they had built up within her. Unchecked rage, and a wrath she dared not even try to understand until the pressure had the emotions pouring out of her in a thick black ichor as viscous as the blood that boiled in her veins...and the blood that stained her hands.

She left the screaming man to his fate as she sought out her next target. She had truly become the hunter. Her vision blurred as the whites of her eyes flooded with the ichor of the Void, its malice pouring out of her eyes, streaking her grey skin with black. Her shaking hands clenched in violent, gory fists at her side as she hunched over.

This...this anger... This is not who I am! But... they deserve this.

"They deserve this." The words rolled off of her tongue as an ominous growl. "You did this to me! You made me do this!" She screeched out into the night.

"I am the suffering. I am the hate. I am the rage of human malice. And I will clean your stain from the land."

It wasn't only her voice that rang out through the fearful cries, but an inhuman chorus of whispers. As she stalked towards an armored man who had fallen trying to flee the demon that walked the field before him, she smiled. Her head had been tilted to the side, knuckles cracking as her fingers itched to be bathed in that warm flesh that stumbled as she approached.

"P-Please! H-have mercy! Gods have mercy!" His voice was a pathetic wail.

"You beg for mercy? Oh, how your sins sing to me in the guise of faith.." The wicked voice answered. She scowled as she shot forward, her body a blackened blur as deadly hands found their mark. In a crimson flurry, her talons bit into armored leather, and then into the softer flesh that lie beneath. She cackled as the man shrieked beneath her.

"Look what you've done! You, humanity, have created a monster." She sang out as the meat of the man's chest laid bare, open, and brutally gored. Yet it still wasn't enough. When would it be enough? The thought had given her prey's breath beneath her came to a gurgling stop.

"When will it be enough?" Cyra cried. She liked how the blood slicked her hands, how it glistened in the fire-light. She liked hearing their howls of suffering, just as she had heard it so many times before through her own voice, or through the cries of another. Her hands traveled from the body beneath her to run over her face, leaving black and red trails up to the wicked horns that curved up and back from her forehead. A devil she had been called, and that night a devil she would be.

[kendertrove]

This EP recommended to me by a very kind anon!

We’re doing something a little different this time as this is a concept album, but i am here for it. One Master lends a great creepy vibe to Raistlin’s rise to power, rendering it as a horror story.

The first song, “The Dark Tower,” establishes Raistlin’s position as master of the Tower of High Sorcery in Palanthas. “Chill of the Grave” is Raistlin issuing a challenge to Takhisis, and shows his plan to rule. I especially love the last verse: “I will not rule over a dead world/The Abyss is calling for me/I will feel the chill of the grave.”

“Unholy Grimness” is Raistlin at the top of his game. Everything’s going his way, and he finally feels on top of the world. (The lines describing Nuitari as “an unnatural hole of darkness/Radiating in the night sky” make me think of a black hole. That could be something fun to explore in a fic.)

“The Test” goes back in time to show Raist’s own test at the Tower of High Sorcery in Wayreth, and developing this scheme. “Master of Past and Present” has him accepting Fistandantilus in Silvanost, and using him to become that same Master of Past and Present. The final song, “I, Magus,” shows Raistlin’s own identity, his will.

This was a great breakdown of the beginning of Raist’s storyline. I loved listening it. It’s not the style of metal i usually listen to, so it was fun to hear something different. Thanks again to the anon who brought it to my attention.

Lyrics below the cut (yes, all of them):

"The Dark Tower" The one place where evil reigns Where the guardians of the tower keep watch

The one who stared into the face of insanity Impaled at the gates of despair Calling a curse upon the mighty tower Until the master of the past and the present Shall return with power None shall pass into the accursed woods Without the seal of its master

Proud warriors shall fear its embrace Mortals who enter shall never return Void of life, awaiting my call Awaken my friend, for now I am your master Black bound tomes, cloaking secrets of the dark arts The keys to my final victory

Within the shadows of my laboratory The site of my greatest creations Life shall be called forth by the power of my magic

Untouched by the sun, blacker than the darkness The watchmen bow before me, as I plan my greatest triumph

Silence and darkness are the ones I can trust None shall disturb the master of the tower While I forge a power stronger than the gods

"Chill of the Grave" Behold dark queen of the night sky A challenger to your reign is calling I am coming for your seat in the hall

With your key and the tomes of the great one I possess the power to usurp your throne All that I need is access to the abyss I must find a soul of purity

Her blind faith in everlasting innocence And my quest for eternal creation Will open the portal in Zhaman

I must pass the test of Wind, Water, Darkness, Fire, and Blood It will bring knowledge Of emptiness and pain

I will not rule over a dead world The Abyss is calling for me I will feel the chill of the grave

"Unholy Grimness" Eternal will and strength Shaped by the darkest forge Reaching the heights of the gods I stand at the center of the world

Rising above the filth and decay My ambition is above the world I am alone on this quest Seeking none to stand by my side

Unholy grimness

It is always winter in my sight Beauty becomes death none can escape from The crushing gaze of the hourglass

Endless hunger for the knowledge of a master Filled with a darkness without dimension I control the river of time with only one goal No god can halt my powerful fury

My frail shell cloaks a deadly force The gods themselves will tremble in my presence

An unnatural hole of darkness Radiating in the night sky I will raise the hourglass I will rule unchallenged

"The Test" On the 7th day of the 7th month During the 7th minute of the 7th hour The conclave will summon my presence At the tower in the woods

To face the test of high sorcery From which many do not return Where I will gain the right To enter the private realm of magic

Accompanied by a fool Who greets his weakness with a smile I begin by entering the forbidden inn Seeking refuge from carrying the burden

Bringers of doom greet my presence I will follow their dangerous path Seeking the tomes of the war magus I am drawn to his cold grasp

Revealing his plans of triumph I plan my own ascent to the sky Using his magic to crush my enemies And resist his deadly bloodstone

Facing one final obstacle I annihilate the false one Who threatens my final victory I have been granted access to the order

"Master of the Past and Present" Once the hand the kingpriest The age of your might has passed Your cold hand seeking my heart Your bloodstone draining my life

I do not fear your deadly grasp For I will become the true master I will rise into the night sky

My body forever shattered in torment Feeling the presence of your ancient hand Guiding my future into the darkness I lie before the giant hall Broken by the power of the great orb I will call for your aid

You cannot see my future you know not I bring your doom you will answer my call My ascent to the great tower is complete

With the key from the dark queen of evil I will find the secret of the abyss In the forgotten ages of the past

You were master of the past Now you are just a frozen corpse I am now master of the past and the present

"I, Magus" My soul was forged by the blow of the hammer Finding comfort in the darkness My only true companion The power of magic pulsing within my spirit None can break its grip of fire around my heart My will for creation cannot be overcome It will bring my only moments of solace

A teacher without a true spirit But one with the discipline I will need Unworthy tormentors fuel my hatred Feeling the sting of my misanthropic fury Gods of magic I will serve you I will bring glory to your name Grant me the power that I seek Let the fire burn strong I will rise from the ashes Leaving my mark in the untouched snow The crisp winds of my eternal winter Breathe a chill of life in my soul

My soul was forged by the blow of the hammer Finding comfort in the darkness My only true companion The power of magic pulsing within my spirit None can break its grip of fire around my heart

[judjira]

in your loving arms (preview)

AN: a short prologue to pregnancy au, as well as an introduction to dahyun's character ! that's right baby we're tackling internalized homophobia (trigger warning!)

pairing: dajeonghyo

pregnancy au

wc: 1107

Honor your father and mother, so that you may live long in the land the Lord, your God, is giving you.

Exodus, 20:12.

It runs through Dahyun’s mind like a freight train with each droplet of water that hits her body.

Her hands, clinging to her arms and hugging her body, do little to provide warmth from the cold of the rain.

It’s cold.

And all Dahyun is wearing are her pajamas, if they can even be called that. A baby blue XL shirt with a print of a duckling waddling through the rain, and gym shorts that barely reach her knees. Both of them hugging her form, and doing nothing to help her from the torrential downpour.

“H-Honor…your father and mother…” She murmurs.

It’s cold.

Dahyun’s not sure if it’s the rain, or the gaping void in her chest, sucking in every coherent thought from her mind, besides that verse.

The streets are empty at this time of night. The moon, usually a source of comfort for her, is nowhere to be seen among the dark and heavy clouds that loom over her.

Skyscrapers tower over her, the city so oppressive it crushes every semblance of her personal space, streets so squashed together to form a concrete maze she can never find her way out of.

Flickering streetlamp lights are the only thing that guide her way, on the cusp of breaking due to the rain.

It’s cold.

Until suddenly, she sees it.

A glimpse of light.

The city passes her by as her bare feet slap against the concrete, puddles of rain water barely slowimg her down.

It’s so close.

She runs, and runs, like the verse that runs through her mind, the only thing keeping every part of her together.

Her feet take her across the street.

There’s a flash of light, and for a moment, Dahyun thinks it’s a sign of the Most Holy, shining down upon her.

And then she hears the tires screech.

Ears ringing, she can do nothing but hold her hands up to her face, what once was holy light now blinding her to the point of pain.

For a moment, or two, all she can hear are her heart pounding, and the merciless rain against the concrete.

Then she hears the car door open.

“Jesus fucking Christ, watch where you’re—!”

The name makes her wince, used in vain.

Whoever they are, they’ve stopped, or maybe their words have gotten softer, because there is barely anything to be heard over the rain.

“What the fuck? Kim Dahyun?!”

She lowers her hands, slowly, tentatively. But the light still blinds her, and all she can see is a silhouette by the car door.

“Damn it, Jeongyeon, use an umbrella, there’s—!”

The other car door opens, but still Dahyun cannot see.

“Dahyun?!”

She’s shivering, she realizes. Hair flat against her head down to her back, a few strands getting in her face. She can barely even feel her own skin, only the pelting of raindrops. Her feet are numb, and only now that she stands still can she see blood being washed away from the ground where she stands.

There’s the sound of boots against concrete.

Then the rain stops.

She looks up, and standing next to her are two figures.

Familiar ones.

“Are you crazy?! You just ran out into the road out of nowhere?! You could have gotten yourself killed!”

Jeongyeon. Yoo Jeongyeon. Her senior. She hasn’t seen her in years.

“What’s the matter with you?!”

Jeongyeon is still loud. What little she’s gathered from their sparse conversations in the past is that Jeongyeon is loud, aggressive, scary. It still holds true now.

“Jeongyeon! Look at her! She’s clearly in distress!”

Jihyo. Park Jihyo. Her senior. She’s seen her only once in recent times.

“Dahyun, what are you doing out here? There’s a storm out, it’s not safe.”

Big, worried eyes stare into her, and it’s only when they blink that Dahyun realizes she’s being addressed.

“I…”

Her mouth fails to continue, an anchor in her chest stopping her from speaking.

“Never mind, we can talk about that later. Come into the car.”

Jihyo was always nice. Even if everything about her alluded to the contrary.

“Wha-?! Ji, are you serious?!”

“Jeongyeon! Come on!”

Dahyun processes Jihyo running back to the car, jacket over her head.

Then she processes an arm hooking into her elbow, gentle, delicate, and caring.

“Alright, fine, let’s go.”

The voice that ushers her to the side of the car is the opposite.

The car door opens, Dahyun sits down, and the car door closes.

Heat, warmth, and some semblance of comfort are given to her only then.

Her clothes drench the seat, water pooling around her as the driver’s seat door slams shut.

“Fuck, that was scary. I thought a ghost just materialized on the street.”

Dahyun looks up, and she’s greeted by two pairs of eyes looking right at her.

“Dahyun-ah…what were you doing out there?”

Jihyo is looking at her, eyes so warm and caring. Her hands are by her chest, fiddling with the seat belt as her body is turned to look at Dahyun.

“I could have killed you, y’know. Be more careful next time, jeez.”

Jeongyeon is scratching the back of her head, sheepishly. Her head is turned downwards, embarrassed, but her eyes still look up at Dahyun’s, in concern.

It all comes rushing back to her, now that the rain no longer halts her every single thought.

“Woah, woah, hey, you’re okay. You’re safe, Dahyun-ah.”

Jeongyeon’s voice almost startles her, and it’s then that she feels the tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Dahyun, what’s wrong?”

When Jihyo asks, Dahyun can count the amount of raindrops that are hitting the car in pelts, and they still wouldn’t be as many as the things that are wrong.

Her throat trembles, her lips quiver, and she sobs.

“I-I was…I was looking for you.”

Jeongyeon’s eyebrows crease as she looks to Jihyo, as if for confirmation. Jihyo can only subtly shrug as she turns back to Dahyun.

“Why? What’s wrong, sweetie?”

Sweetie. The endearment rolls of Jihyo’s tongue so easily, like Dahyun is still the same old Dahyun that Jihyo had befriended.

Dahyun shakily exhales. And with her breath comes the expelling of fear, of hesitation, of sorrow, all easily captured in one simple sentence.

“…I have nowhere else to go.”

Silence fills the car.

It feels like an eternity passes, and it itches at Dahyun’s skin. She almost opens the door to run back out into the rain.

Until Jeongyeon’s voice, soft but purposeful, cuts through the thick.

“Alright. We’re taking you home.”

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

△ "Does it scare you knowing you're just another beings puppet? Something to play with and disscard as soon as it gets tired, that'd scare me. Maybe you you really didn't deserve what happened to you and you aren't what people forced you to fit the mold of? I've covered plenty of stories like that. People who think they're utterly irredeemable, because of how society forced them to be and how crippling it is when they realize they're not that way at all." - Sable @ dbd Robibi

✧ ━━ 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃 △ 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 DEAD BY DAYLIGHT VERSE Difficulty Rating: 9/10

The man cast his gaze downward upon the salt circle where the girl was situated, did she hope it would offer her solace or serve as a barrier if he decided to not play nicely? Such a flimsy little thing could never be a proper bulwark, especially not when her questions itched and dug at the ever-deepening hole situated in his chest. Each one forced his mind open to memories; foggy as they were. Sable's soothing, delicate almost caring inquiries failed to provoke even a hint of warmth within him ━ instead a frigid chill penetrated his entire being. He ... didn't deserve what had happened to him? Ah ... it had been so long that it had become but a dream; a blurred reflection on the wrong side of a looking glass. Yet still somehow it blossomed into clarity.

He was suddenly dreadfully aware of how his skin sat on his bones, the damning silence within his ribcage, and how the blood barrier of his brain was beginning to bubble with uncertainties and long laid to rest horror. An image was thrust to the surface of his consciousness: his skull pulses matching the torrent of blood gushing through his wintry lashes to cast a red veil over the world. The rhythmic thudding of boots relentlessly striking his knuckles until half of his fingers were broken; the single thrust of a blade into his back forcing him to teeter on the edge of oblivion's stupor. Voices echoed in the cavernous depths of his memory, each slice trying to goad him to expose an imagined devil lurking beneath his soft spoken demeanor.

He remembered it, just for a moment; the soil beneath him whispering his name as he fell deeper into a numbing void. Robin felt himself floating deeper and deeper into the immeasurable cosmic ooze; unequivocally alone while the voices shrunk into oblivion. His body tightened into a crystalline husk ━ frozen in time with only the taste of pickling bile to comfort him. Had his tear ducts not dried up he would have wept as he ebbed in and out of existence all together. How many days had he been stuck here? Was it days? Hours? Years? Eons? No. No no no no no no no ━

I’m still alive. My body is still here.

Was it? Was he? Had he ever existed at all?

Our Lord Jesus Christ, to the world to save and to set me free. I trust in your power and grace that sustain and restore me. Loving Father, touch me now with your healing hands. Touch me, O Lord, and fill me with your light and your hope. Please Lord hear me - please save me please save me save me save me save me save me save me save me save me save me ━

Golden light flooded into his eyes and nearly blinded him, yet the burning sting across his dried cornea was one of the most wonderful things he had ever felt. The world slowly dripped into place once more and eventually color began to return, and his skin prickled with a cold breeze. The dappled sunlight flitted across his stagnant stare as the minutes ticked on, and he took the time to listen to each sound the forest produced. A thrill surged through him, as the melodic chorus of birds heralded the break of day; their nests stirring to acknowledge the rising sun. The crickets sang in brilliant unison, while the trees and foliage nearby whispered softly to him; each gentle breeze over his person felt like a wave of prayers.

For a span of three nights he stayed stuck in place, denied the bracing sensation of winter's fae dancing upon his exposed flesh. His mind was too clouded, and his thoughts meandered aimlessly through a labyrinth of questions. Something had heard his prayers and bestowed upon him this renewed opportunity, as though he were Christ. His heart wept when he witnessed the sun ascend and descend thrice in the horizon before he finally felt his nerves reignite and remind him of how he had ended up here. Verdant eyes bubbled with tears - he was far too overstimulated to do much else besides wail and dig his nails into the soil. Robin choked up as he blinked the gritty tears from his eyes in order to gaze down at his twitching fingers; he savored the brief respite and quiet before being interrupted by a nearby sound.

A dog barking and a familiar face rushing over towards him ... Who was that?

Another splinter of ice pierced his brain and began unweaving the intricate network of nerves and veins threading together the thin blanket of his current reality. And hidden beneath the layers of membrane, was a town full of living flesh gasping and retching on the fetid airs of their rotted kin. Each one bled dry and carved into grave meat; and when his cup ran dry he cleaved through the next flesh sac. Men, women, children ━ all were harvested until the village became a crypt. Snowfall that marked the end of England's winter was marred by the remains of the deceased, leaving death stains upon the pristine white landscape ... Then he saw Her.

Her coaxing fog gave rise to a pale horse that beckoned him onward into a realm awash with blood and anguished shrieks of those She deemed unworthy of Her sacred radiance. Power was given unto him ... to kill with sword, and with hunger, and with death, and with the beasts of the earth. The time of Judgement had come, had it not? In the course of his existence, a trio of horses - white, red, and black - had been by his side; it was now his time to accept the generous offer of reins extended to him by Her grace and love. To become the fourth rider with Her to walk by his side, jaws open and receiving the victims slain by Her devote servant.

"Something to discard? Oh no, my sweet ewe, you have failed utterly to see the destiny that lies before us all. Little Lamb, yours is the blood that will dye the robes of the faithful into white. Mine is the blade that will sacrifice you to our beloved God. Each one of Her creations plays a part, and She will guide us."

His body ... it was his, wasn't it? Yes. Yes. He chose to walk into the fog, he remembered that clearly; what else was there to do? Lay himself to a second final resting amongst the corpses and carrion of that accursed town? Or join in Her army of angels sent to slay and bring about the end of days? Perhaps those mangled villagers from his town had been right about his talent for sin, but his cruelty was rewarded with a Heaven of comfort and safety. He would never have to worry for his immortal soul again; God had already chosen him as Her scion.

Perhaps those mangled villagers from his town had been right about his propensity for wickedness, yet his sins were compensated with a Heaven of tranquility and security. As if something like this pathetic creature could ever hope to understand; oh well. She would know the truth soon enough; her true purpose written in red across her skin.

Robin watched her for a moment. Just one. Thereafter he slowly stepped forward and let his foot pass beyond the salt circle's protection.

[evcryopeneye]

@nebulaties​ asked: ❛  don’t you believe me?  ❜ Ed to tilly 

She didn’t.

Yet it wasn’t the answer she could give, was it?

Ok that wasn’t entirely the truth. She did believe him. She believed that he meant it, all of his actions told her that. Yet, it was as if at any moment she was waiting for the penny to drop, for him to realise the mistake that he had made, that he shouldn’t have stayed, that she wasn’t worth it, that there was truth to the things that people said.

It occurred to her, that she’d been silent for what felt like forever. That in itself was a glaring neon sign that something was wrong. Gone were the rambling string of thoughts that usually escaped her when she was thrown off her game. Replaced with a silence as she Tilly realised there was no good way to answer his question. I she said ‘I believe you’ she lied by omission and caveat. If she agreed and said she didn’t well she was a horrible fucking person.

There was no winning here. This was a no win scenario. Yet somehow, despite all the intelligence in that brain of hers, it had never occurred to her that love wasn’t something you win and then it was over and you existed in this singular state for the rest of your lives. It was a process, it was forever evolving, having to be worked at, having to compromise, overcome problems, it was…much more complex than she had ever really thought.

Green eyes glanced away, flickering across the wall as she tried to keep herself calm, “I mean…” great, great start, just, fantastic. “What am I meant to think? That somehow just. This…” That they had this life now. That they were…here. It seemed to boggle her own mind. A shaking breath, swallowing the lump in her throat as she attempted to make her point without absolutely tanking it. “It’s as if…I’m waiting at any moment for the gotcha. As if, how could I be so fucking stupid to think that this….is for me?”

There was something about love, when you had gone most of your experiencing a version of it based on gaslighting and control. That it left out uncomfortable and frightening at times. That was the thing about love, it was frightening at times, it held the capacity to wound, to trust someone so deeply was to hand then the ability to destroy you. “I believe you, I do, I just don’t trust the universe not to slap the shit out of me right now.”

[irondad-defensesquad]

current wips (updated!)

the mostly finished ones:

i'll send an SOS to the world - takes place during iron man 3, through uncle ben's pov. peter is devastated upon the news of tony's supposed death. uncle ben can tell how affected peter is, so he tries his best to lift peter's spirits.

if you're going to shoot somebody, shoot me! - peter gets hurt again, but tony is absolutely broken, because peter got hurt outside of patrol. the two were just hanging out when a guy tried to shoot tony, and peter took the bullet instead.

the view from halfway down - TRIGGER WARNING FOR SUICIDE. peter finally tries to end his life, but he gives up on the idea and saves himself. but he ends up halfway down the bridge, and he calls tony for help, fearing his mentor is going to get angry.

you’re all i need to get by - sickfic in which tony gets sick and peter looks after him. eventually, peter kisses tony's forehead without realizing. THIS IS NOT SHIPPY, ISTG

untitled - TRIGGER WARNING FOR SELF-HARM. morgan sees peter's cuts and tries her best to help. eventually she tells tony that peter is hurt.

the rest:

we didn't start the fire, chapter 2 - miles wakes up at an unfamiliar place, but he realizes he's not actually in danger. tony tries to figure out who was the boy that left miles there. basically a spider-verse x mcu crossover where tony is still alive, but he doesn't remember peter.

and i say to myself, what a wonderful world - short fic that takes place before peter travels to europe in ffh. but here tony is alive and he doesn’t want to stay away from peter after the last five years. it's more light-hearted than it sounds, trust me. inspired by the ending of finding nemo :)

i need some sleep - tony finds peter wearing the spider-man suit late at night, but he finds out that the kid isn’t fighting anyone. peter is just talking to karen, and tony learns a lot more about him.

and then you’re left in the dust - a sequel to kid arachnid, part of the miles in the mcu series, in which mcu!miles meets peter and tony, and he eventually gets spider-powers. tony starts mentoring him before the events of endgame. suddenly, one day, miles’ father, who was dusted, returns as if nothing happened. miles later finds out peter and everyone else is back once he visits tony.

untitled - sequel to and the void stares back. after tony adopts tony jr., a black cat, peter brings an orange kitten home. much to his and tony's surprise, junior quickly adopts the kitten. shenanigans ensue.

p.s. say edith - another mcu x spider-verse crossover! miles graduates from school and all his spider-friends attend. peter shows up wearing cool glasses miles has never seen before. sadly, tony is dead in this one.

turn the lights off, carry me home - peter has an anxiety attack, and ned does his best to help. since they can't get aunt may, ned suggests they call tony. peter is against that, mostly bc he knows tony would pick him up and help him out. peter just hates getting in the way.

unsure about these:

i've become so numb (title might be changed) - peter is working in the lab while tony is out, when (alive) howard stark enters without anyone's permission. howard is clearly a dick to peter, but the kid is furious when the man insults tony and all his hard work. peter won't stand for that. i'm a little concerned this one might be too similar to you keep me searching for a heart of gold...

dad sneeze (title might be changed) - based on a post by @/fotibrit, peter never understood what was so funny about dad sneezes, until he hears tony sneeze incredibly loud. it's just fluff.

[bells-of-black-sunday]

Tarhos, league verse - (im a monster)

♠ - for a nightmare ♦ - for a dream from childhood ♥ - for a sex dream/wet dream ♣ - for a daydream

Dreaming | Accepting You're a monster fucker alright its okay we all know-

♠ - for a nightmare

He couldn't breathe again. Everything was black and still no matter how much his lungs screamed at him and burned he couldn't breathe. Was he a weapon again? Had Haru tossed him to the side- Then he saw it. The same eerie purple glow that sent his body into full panic. Struggling to pull away, get away, do anything and yet he couldn't move.

Why couldn't he breathe? The eyes, thousands of them- millions. Fractals that all stared back and the disfigured claws that reached out to touch his face. Why couldn't he scream? His body was burning every nerve begging, pleading, weeping at him to just move.

Get away from the danger. Get away from whatever that thing was. Yet his claws dug under his skin, digging into his fur and filling his throat until he could feel the things legs forcing it's way out of his nose and his eyes. Then he woke up- panting clawing at his beak chittering to himself. The void.... always the void. Haru's hands on his made him jump dragging his face down into the birds embrace and at least for a moment he could try to relax.

♦ - for a dream from childhood

The ribbons of sand danced through the air and he was at home again. Before anything happened. Helping his mother prepare dinner as she hummed that same tune she always did. It was peaceful... tranquil even. He could hear his siblings piling it with their dad to go and sort what they found for the day. Everything was fine as it should be. And then... he woke up. In the tent with everyone else. People with families and those without.

♥ - for a sex dream/wet dream

Haru looked so beautiful against the pillows. The bowls of wine reflecting the candles lit and the sheer fabric that adorned his body. His tail fanning out against the dark and bright fabrics almost hypnotizing. He dipped down pressing his beak to his skin dragging his tongue down his stomach and chuckling at the soft whine he got in return. The darkin could stare that the image forever, how beautiful the vastaya was under any circumstance, but especially this. Flushed and trapped in a halo of white while he cooed soft words to him.

Tarhos pulled his hips against his easing his way in sighing at how eager he seemed to be for something like this. Something to ease the tension after long days of travel and killing the pests that still remained. Haru's fingers dug into the soft pillows as his back arched silently begging for him to continue, the darkin's long tongue fell from his beak lapping at his cock until the forks slid inside of him. He couldn't help, but chuckle at the way the bird squirmed and his talons dug into him for support.

Exploring his insides as little he could yet holding him so firm he couldn't move his hips if he wanted to. How sweet his tasted... how his cocks leaked yet his mind remained determined and that's when he woke up with a huff. Growling as he turned over on his rock to peer at Haru indignantly. How dare he wake him up from such a nice dream-

♣ - for a daydream

He dreams about going back to Shurima, but what it used to be. The shining city where they'd be welcomed back to after conquering land for and defending the vast empire they called home. He was never worshipped as much as others like the great general, but he was always welcomed into the temples to be bathed and pampered like he wasn't the beast of burden that he took the visage of. His horns adorned in gold and his fur painted in intricate patterns to match the carefully woven fabrics that adorned his body once he was out of his armor.

He always remembered the faithful three who took care of him then. Listened to his stories and shared his company. He misses them dearly as much as he loves Haru.

[abysskeeper]

ok asking about Ziost 2.3 my beloved. AND asking about The Collective because i am curious and love titles like that.

@gothamcityneedsme Ziost 2.3 all our beloved, is for a prompt fill you sent me...3 years ago...about Tav figuring out Vitiate knows Trick and the aftermath of that. I've been working on revising the fight that facilitates him realizing that and had one, brilliant idea of Trick fighting with his vibroknife (that in turn facilitated and explained a headcanon in a different WIP on this list) before kinda getting bored and moving onto the conversation after. And then I wrote this 4 days ago in a sleepy haze:

"And in the quiet moment that passed between them on the dying planet, her weight resting and relying on him to keep her steady against an insurmountable burden, he understood there was nothing he would not do to pull through for her. To ensure her trust in him was never any fault in her judgment.

He understood he loved her."

And have been stuck with the understanding that Ziost is probably when they both realize and solidify their feelings as Feelings (her moment is in 3.0) and then...one of them disappears for 5 years. Oops.

***

The Collective is one of my two that actually isn't SWTOR related at all. It's about new girl Em, specifically in the verse we're creating to eventually rp in. And since anything goes and it's inevitable, hi Cas...remember when I said Ember was running from and loved by something else other than her father? This is what I meant.

The Collective is the name of an artificial god the tieflings created by fusing five souls (and later revealed, five physical bodies) together via magic and alchemy. It's the first time Em is "meeting" them, so to speak, as her mother is offering her as their bride in a bid of power. They eventually accept, and it's why Em is considered heir apparent to the throne.

The fact that her childhood sweetheart is the leading soul of the god definitely means nothing and wasn't premeditated at all. The fact that one of the other souls was her brother's lover also definitely means nothing.

"The scent of the incense and flames permeated the room, swirling and swelling around her until it perfused through her own blood. Her lungs were dry and her throat was burning, but she continued the hymn, her voice raising higher and higher until she could feel the frenzy created in her body from her physical obedience and her mental reluctance.

It was wrong to be doing this, praying in such a way to one who was not Infernal. If she were doing this for Father, it would be one thing, but this was an artificial...an abomination still in the eyes of so many. And yet...she could not afford to stray from Mother's word.

And yet...she had to see for herself. She had to know.

Just as the hymn reached its peak, her voice reverberating off the walls in an ever-growing crescendo, just when she was growing certain this was pointless and nothing would come of these hours of prayers...there was a spark. A floating sensation.

And nothing.

Tahalia opened her eyes, faced with a white, endless void, and five tieflings staring back at her. A tremble cascaded down her body with the confirmation she knew each and every one of them. Her eyes remained transfixed on the purple one--Dirin, poor, sweet, gentle-hearted Dirin--before slowly, with mounting, reluctant horror, traveled to the one standing foremost.

Faust. Her Faust. The golden-eyed son of the Engineer. The billow of smoke to her never-ending fire.

Her stomach dropped with another tremble, and she suddenly, desperately understood why Telnar ran."

We're playing with Lovecraftian horror, which is a whole new realm for me but I'm having fun and that's all that matters.

[koreposion]

Alright time to post writing that is cringe and mostly for me to read again later

The cage rattled loudly as Horror slammed against the bars from the inside. An animalistic growl leaving him as he observed his captors. He backed away from the bars so he didn't have to stare into the eyelights of Ink.

"I wish you could rip me apart too." Ink cooed in a way that was sickly sweet and oh so true. Dream watched him to make sure he didn't let Horror out just for the fun of it.

"Please keep your heartfelt messages to yourself." Swap groaned as he worked on making sure the cage stayed shut. If there was one thing he didn't want it was Horror getting out.

"Hm? Why would I?" Ink asked as he leaned up against the cage, in reach of Horror's claws, "It makes him so angry, it's beautiful."

"We actually just need him to stay calm and wait until the others get here." Swap explained as his eyes glanced over at Horror who seemed to be contemplating something, "He's bait basically."

Dream flinched at the harsh word to describe their prisioner but to be far "prisioner" wasn't as kind either. A sigh left him as he spoke, "All I want to do, is talk with Cross and my brother. I don't get why he had to take....Horror."

There was an apologetic look in Dreams eyes as he looked into Horror's eyes. He was only met with a neutral stare.

"Lifeline. They'll be more willing to talk than fight, especially if Horror doesn't get himself out." Swap explains with a smile, trying to reassure Dream.

Ink's eyelights flicker into a number of shapes before he realizes that his pink is wearing off. A more reasonable trail of thought comes to him as he looks at his other teammates.

"If Horror doesn't get out himself, then they'll either send Cross or Nightmare to talk with us. I don't actually think they'd send more than one person." Ink explains as he sits in front of Horror's cage casually, "That would be pretty stupid given that Dust and Killer are more impulsive. The only reason the capture worked is because Horror was slamming the ink off of me."

"Yeah...that trick is pretty handy with impulsive brutes, huh? Who knew your blood could make an effective cage." Swap states with a chuckle, "Make them think they're winning and then get them right where you want them."

Ink looked up at Swap with indifference before taking two viles, Pink and Blue. He was going to be watching Horror for a while and wanted to feel all he could while he can.

"While you revel in your ego I'm going to be watching Horror." He stated as he blinked and his eyelights changed shape, a pink square and a blue x.

"Yeah yeah...Dream please keep an eye on him while I go relax. I know you two have your weird immortal workings but I need...a nap." Swap says with a tired drawl as he waves goodbye and leaves the room.

With worried eyes Dream let's Swap leave and then turns back to Ink. Who's whispering something to Horror and Horror is whispering something back...

They both turn to look at him for a second before Ink mentions something.

"You're just the cutest in the verses of course he likes you." Ink speaks softly.

"I do not get Gods and their obsession for me, maybe a creator just hates my guts." Horror hisses to Ink as he pressed against the bars.

"Or they love you lots, because let's be real-" Ink stares deeply into Horror's eyes, even the void of his empty eye socket, "You love ripping me apart just as much as I like being taken apart."

"... You're imagining things because of your weird fucked viles." Horror tells him with a frown, "You don't even actually feel something for me."

Ink laughs at that, an unnerving grin appears on his face, "I wish I could show you that I do."

Dream watched this whole display with interest, but in the way that this was new. Fundamentally, this was not healthy in any capacity. Even the emotions radiating off of Ink were bad, but in a way that made him feel good. It was sickening... He just wished someone would come to pick up Horror soon.

[rosheendubh]

AWAY…(have a ficlet From Latticeof Infinity/Elegy of Dead Kingdoms—from this shattered disaster of a crack SpaceRockOpera—the lyrics are from Nightwish’s, ‘Away’. Because some divine being posted 4+ hours of Nighwish’s Top50–and this song embraces quite the Theme of this segment from my particular AU crossover of StarWars-through TTT/HandofcThrawn/Merged Dark Empire1/Shadows of Mindor/events of the YuhzanVong War with Firefly/Serenity, and the Keltiad-squished into the Firefly ‘verse as an Independent system…)

~

“Away, away, away in time Every dream's a journey away Away, away, to a home away from care Everywhere's just a journey away

Cherish the moment Tower the skies Don't let the dreamer Fade to gray like grass…”

~

The first time Thrawn kissed Rhyanon it was after he’d destroyed a fair bit of the Galaxy by collapsing the Wormhole connecting the Terran quadrant with the quadrant of the Imperial Remnant still in conflict with the Republic Alliance. He had good intentions, because there was really no other way to slow Abaddon. But, the fallout by anyone’s measure, even megalomaniacs like the long-deceased Sith, Palpatine, proved a little apocalyptic.

Thrawn, of course, had a contingency plan for the survivors, leading them to the old ruins of the 2nd Death Star, which existed in a sort of fluctuating twilight-world of shifting space-time corridors. An after-effect of the cataclysm imploding through the continuums of the meta-verse.

Amid other events leading to this moment, Rhyanon eventually found him kneeling in the sands of the Oceans of Time, staring off into a horizon of fire and storm and cosmic winds. Pain and anger stained their shared past, dating back years to her time as a courtesan-trained-medic while in Palpatine’s court, when Thrawn was promoted to Grand Admiral on the eve of the Emperor’s death.

Until this moment, she never would have suspected Thrawn capable of suffering as other sentients. Loss, the great price of sacrificing the Ascendency to stall Abaddon’s dark ravaging of planetary systems, wrought lines of weariness heavy upon his brow, around his mouth. The shadow haunting the scarlet eyes cut raw in her heart.

Thrawn asked if her people, the Keltoi, had a word for the kind of grief that formed a void beyond emptiness. “A ballad or a lay, perhaps?” His words stumbling out in that eloquent cadence of velvet and steel, edged in bitterness. “The Keltoi—the legendary race of warrior-poets.”

Rhyanon couldn’t recall any from her youth. But then, her youth had been stolen prematurely, swept away by a brutal act of violence, taking her from everything she’d known and loved.

A memory came to her then, of her brother. Bard-trained Talhaiarn, an officer of the Keltoi fleet in service to the Ardrian Aeron Aoibhell. Warriors, the Keltoi as the Chiss, and Talhiarn renowned as a fearless pilot, a devoted commander. He’d indulged music’s magic as an escape from the horrors of war.

As she knelt before Thrawn, Rhyanon spoke gently. “I may have no verse to offer, but my brother often says the first song was born of sorrow so deep, words were inadequate to lift such sadness to the skies.”

Thrawn’s grief, his remorse, buried under the armor born of leadership, broke through, etched in rivulets of moisture, liquid garnet, like blood, rolling down his azure cheeks.

Rhyanon, with her biokinesis, accessed the nanoplexus integrated into her central nervous system. A graceful curl of her wrist, bend of a finger, she directed a green-gold plasmic current, capturing, analyzing the composition of his tears. The microscopic manifesting as vision, the molecular shaped into an endless weaving of threads imparting life. The profundity of sorrow captured like a globular prism, a raindrop, a teardrop, restless as the cosmic storms ravaging the horizon of this liminal plain.

“Chiss lacrimal secretions,” she murmured as he stared at the mirage coalesced between them, rapt by her enchantment, “while differing in certain constituents, hold a similar salinity to human tears, an osmolarity nearly matching the ocean waters.”

Rhyanon tried offering some other surcease beyond an academic text, wiping at a blood-tinged track from against his cheek. “Our tears flow, as our lives, and our griefs, rivers washed into the Sea where all things end. And emerge again.”

He searched her face, trying to find some salvation from the decisions he’d made. Dreamlike, she slowly leaned toward him, hearing his muted gasp at the softness of her lips upon his cheeks, his dark lashes, wet, salt like human tears—why would she expect differently—where she kissed away his silent sorrow. His surrending sigh as she chastely brushed his mouth with hers, held the synchronicity of their breath, shared in this precious moment.

When Rhyanon drew back, she seemed as mystified as he, her action leaving them both pensive. Her eyes drifted shut, as she turned from the wonder in Thrawn’s look.

And in those moments where Rhyanon still seemed held by that light first brush of lips, Thrawn, utterly mesmerized, reached toward her, her eyelids fluttering wide as he guided her face close. Before she could tense back, his mouth claimed hers, thirsting, seeking, wanting. Her breath caught in surprise, but she responded, easing to the exploration of lips and tongue, eyes closing once more, lost to the taste of warmth, and the heady euphoria of wandering hands, his arms encompassing her supple form, her hands clinging onto his shoulders and neck… ~ It was said, of the 5 Greatest Kisses in the Galaxy, this one was ranked somewhere in the top 10. A true Cold Mountain performance, as Kaylee might have approximated. Had she been there to witness the Kiss. But because no one of the Serenity crew, or the Wilde Kaarde had any idea what transpired between the biokinetically gifted Keltoi medic, and the former Grand Admiral, now Supreme Commander of the Imperial Remnant united with the Empire of the Hand, and they only found out about it after-the-fact, it was ranked in the top 10, without ever receiving any explicit ordinal denomination.

The Republic Alliance and the Fringe systems of the Terran Core were amid a truce with the Empire of the Hand, but the split of forces on either side of the spatial conduit had delayed progress. The conundrum of truncating communication and travel in the absence of the wormhole left River Tam with a puzzle more entertaining than figuring out how to overcome the thousands of meteors orbiting Coruscant, utilizing the antiquated tracking of spatial aquatonics, accelerated by River’s unique talents. A mind operating in fractal domains, dimensional analytics reducing equations to a few hours, that would have taken the Republic’s best physicists a month, she needed something else now, to keep her distracted, or the sound of Abaddon’s Reaver-Hybrid Clones, never far from her consciousness, might threaten the precarious hold she’d only recently recovered of her sanity after Miranda.

Thus, on that rare evening while Rhyanon and Thrawn continued groping and caressing each other like teenagers riding passion’s hormonal tidal wave, Ar’alani was subjected to learning why Terran humans seemed so obsessed with quoting script-lines from long-dead movies. A favorite of these oft-repeated one-liners: “as you wish,” Jayne, Serenity’s weapons-happy muscle-man, babbled every time Ar’alani drifted somewhere in his general vicinity.

This was the penance for losing the Girls’ Night Drinking Game to Zoe and Saffron—aka Mara Jade. Subjected to Jayne’s movie-night choice of Old Terra’s cinematic selection stored in Serenity’s archives. Who knew a man who strolled through civilian markets with a rocket-launcher on his shoulder because ya’ never knew what fruit-vendor might turn into an assasin indulged a secret fetish for romances.

Resignedly, Ar’alani settled back on the worn cushions of the sofa, housed in a back storage pit of the ramshackle smuggling ship. Serenity gloried in its disarray and disrepair like a flick-off to Talon Kaarde’s well-maintained vessel, and orderly crew.

Stale beer and cigara fumes filtered through the air of Serenity’s makeshift entertainment center, holos projecting what Jayne swore as the greatest movie of all time.

“Want some?” Jayne asked, rattling a bowl of heat-reactive seed kernels under her nose, crunching down on a fluffy piece of styrofoam-looking cellulose lathered in butter and salt.

Ar’alani’s expression puckered at the charred pungency of fumes wafting from the bowl, and altogether overwhelming for the refined senses of Chiss olfactory centers. “No, thank you,” she said, trying to keep the forebearsnce from her voice, seeing Jayne’s puppy-dog eyes. “And if you say, as you wish one more time, I’ll dump those seed kernels—popcorn—“the word awkward from her throat”— over your head.”

A mistake, she realized, quickly learning females speaking in a commanding voice only made Jayne more moon-eyed. Which was enough for Ar’alani to toss back another Ewok microbrew.

Keth roach piss would have tasted sweeter*, she thought spurring another curse at Thrawn for bringing them to this lost twilight realm. The crash site of his old Emperor’s mad battalion of destruction. She chokied down the beverage, because drunk was the only way she could envision sustaining Jayne’s company for the next 2 hours, and hoped whatever involved the Supreme Commander in that moment, it was either thoroughly tormenting or worse, boring to the point of death.

When she learned later, the indulgence that had indeed occupied Thrawn, she had no regret for the data-pad aimed at his head from across the conference desk of his office. Thrawn caught the object effortlessly of course, which irked her all the more. Fuming, Ar’alani stalked out from the office, vowing over her shoulder as she exited between the sliding doors, Thrawn could spend the next movie-night subjected to Jayne’s visual art tastes, his rancid popcorn, and cheap alcohol. She heard the low laughter in her wake, the words, “As you wish,” reaching her as the doors whisked shut.

For a moment, she considered turning back around, marching through the doors, up to Thrawn, glaring fire to match the subtle teasing glint in his eyes. And stuffing as you wish right back at him.

As entertaining as the vision was, of smashing a few more data-pads over Thrawn’s polished composure, Ar’alani prided herself on possessing the rare trait of taking the high-road, as the saying went.

Especially because of the laughter. That had been good to hear. Clean, honest laughter, something like joy and the bravado she recalled when Thrawn had been an infuriating captain under her command.

After all the loss, the death, and decimation swallowing their Galaxy, with Abaddon, and forces of the Coroniad-Virathi [read: my analog to the Grysk, but adapted from the Keltiad verse] still afoot. It was the first time she’d heard that sound from him in decades. And if it took basting the Keltoi medic—Mal Reynolds kept calling her Gaia—in reference to some ancient Terran goddess that recalled Rhyanon’s abilities of organic molecular manipulation. Well, Ar’alani decided, if this was what followed a good basting for Thrawn, it was better than the melancholy devouring him since the Battle of the Event Horizon.

So, she held her peace that day, hope’s candle, a flicker in the storm, but present, wakening for the first time since she’d led the few Chiss survivors to this rendezvous of Endor, fleeing their home-worlds, a cold rage constricting her chest, watching Csilla’s incinerated caracass fade away like a million ashes blasted across the Star-ways.

Hope, that flickering candle in Ar’alani’s mind. She strode down the passage to the main hanger-port, notified of General Skywalker’s return with a new collection of refugees from the Infernal Regions bordering the dimensional rift left by the Wormole’s collapse, dubbed Ginngungagap, after some other archaic Terranism.

Echoing through her mind, with that candle, the words, As you wish, yourself, Vu’rawn.

[stealthyrenegains]

I know what you’re thinking… you wanna renegade. But you need some stealth and gains. 🤔

Here comes the “In the Right Way” Push-Ups Program (Part 1)

(don’t worry, we’ve all been there). What gives?

Gains require sacrifices.

And nobody wants to hear that truth.

This workout program will empower you to train your discipline yourself.

After 6 months of each step, if this doesn’t work for you, you are allowed to break the rules and go back to an old habit. In fact, it can be good to do so to truly see that the same things hold less power over you.

I'm so convinced that this will work for you, though, that you won’t want to go back to your same old habits after the 6 months are up for each step in the same way.

There is a method to this madness, trust me. And I’m about to break it down for you:

Spend each step for 6 months. Between each of these steps, wait 4 weeks to get used to it before moving on to the next one, still replacing the old habit with the new one: push-ups to purge the absolute frack out of your demons.

So you’ll start the first step and hold that for a month before moving to the next step. The idea is that the steps will compound. You are not to let go of ANY step before 6 months.

The full version is not available yet, but once you’ve arrived at the sixth one, keep holding each step for 6 months until the continued version of this is released. There are 6 more hellish steps to go through after these 6. They're all free.

The reward? Freakin’ earning it. You’ll never be so happy to do a push-up in your life once all is said and done.

And more: more mindfulness, a personal sense of accomplishment, more focus, more intention, and more connection.

The Steps to Death by Push-Ups:

No Deceptions, no escapism

Focus on work and daily routines. Your dreams are not a reality unless you make them work.

The bad habit: escapism.

Any time you dip into escapism (thoughts of self-sabotage, falling prey to patterns of personal addiction to what numbs your thought-processes like mindless scrolling, thoughts of escaping your comfort zone), you are to do 9 push-ups right away.

2. No ego, no self

Focus on how you can foster healthy and well-balanced relationships. Take into consideration your partner's needs or whoever falls on your intimate path. Work on a balanced perspective and on compromise. Consider your true values to foster peace and harmony with others.

The bad habit: narcissism, excess vanity, and unjust selfishness. 🪞

Any time you catch yourself staring at a mirror for looking at a mirror to check yourself out or flex, any time you redirect conversations back to yourself, and any time you seek validation, you need to do 9 push-ups right away. Your gains won’t be a show-stopper unless your face is imperceptible from blood, sweat, and tears. 😤🩸

3. No false security, no new material possessions

Focus on transformation. Investigate what’s suspicious in your life. Now’s the time to destroy what you don’t need.

The bad habit: buying things you don’t really need, just to fill up a void inside you. 🫠

Any time you make a frivolous purchase on some material item, big or small, you gotta do 9 push-ups right away.

4. No environmental audience, no short journeys

Realize that the path to long-term success is a long one. That’s how this whole thing is going to feel like. 😴 Find religious verses for the inspiration that you need. Transcend simple communication and seek something higher. You will probably need this after the above steps. 😏

The bad habit: gossiping and having scattered focus.

Any time you engage in gossip or try to do too many things at once, do 9 push-ups right away.

5. No emotional instability, no overattachment to the past

Overidentification to your family and traditions can hinder your soul’s development. Now’s the time to focus on your career and what it is that YOU want for yourself.

The bad habit: letting other people define your needs and wants.

Any time you experience emotional turmoil or emotional outbursts, especially in your home environment, do 9 push-ups right away.

6. No external validation, no fear of self-expression

Let’s face it, when we need external validation, we are more afraid to express who it is we really are. Well, in this step, we’re throwing that need out the window so that we can express who it is we truly are. 🥹

The bad habit: caring what other people think.

Any time you stalk someone on social media, any time you check your phone to see if your gym crush texted you back, do 9 push-ups right away.

You may start off by doing several push-ups a day. That’s exactly great. That means you’re really mindful. Don’t give up! Keep building those gains. 💪🏼Are you ready? If you said no, you’re totally ready. 😈If you said yes, I think you may be underestimating this… either way, after 6 months of each, you’ll be unrecognizable in a very good way.