#Hollow Moon: Galaxy

[we-the-witch]

[closed starter for @blooddrinkingbartender]

Galaxy wasn't the one to go to bars often, especially not when they had so little money. But the stress of trying to make ends meet was starting to get even to her and the abandoned train yard was cold and lonely, especially during the evening. She had made a smaller fire in the stove before leaving, to let Laila have something to keep her warm, but that did little to help the woman.

At least the bar she was in kept the cold out. It was warm enough to make her take off the old leather jacket and even older woolen sweater she came in with. She knew how to make a drink last, so even the one glass she bought with the little money they had was enough.

But she talked to nobody all evening, when otherwise she would have attempted to find a companion for the night. She simply didn't have the energy or mental capacity to, opting to simply stay at the bar quietly and make sure nobody drugged her drink or rob her of the little she had.

She was lost in thought of nothing in peculiar for a long time, being pulled out from that train only by the absence of sound of other customers. That's when she looked around to find the bar empty, and a glance at the clock revealed how late it was

"Ah- Goodness gracious, I 'ave lost track of time- I dinae' mean to hold ya so late" she apologized before she even saw the bartender that served her drink, which she still had about half of. Even though she came in very late, she had been around for a much longer time than just one drink would hold.

[trainwreckrenegade]

[alyrasturnz]

PETER {{ matt sturniolo }}

— part 1

summary — you find yourself grappling with the passage of three long years since the promise was made, yet the anticipated return remains elusive, casting a shadow of uncertainty over your heart and mind. the lingering question of whether he will ever fulfill his sweet nothings linger like haunting whispers in your thoughts

warnings :: mentions of alcohol , gore mentioned if you squint

— angst!

a/n ,, first fanfic ever!!!! idk how to feel 😭

part 2

its the gut wrenching feeling of your heart splintering into myriad fragments, tears meandering down your visage in intricate rivulets, reminiscent of the essence of your being seeping from your inert vessel.

the very last breath relinquishing from the depths of your being, mirroring the conclusive caress you shall ever grace upon his lips. that’s how it felt like. the sensation mirrored the cold embrace of mortality itself.

it was akin to the feeling of parting ways with someone you never intended to depart from. it felt as though a fragment of your essence had vanished, leaving behind only the visceral remnants seeping from the core of your existence.

it was as if existence itself had become an illusion, a mere facade of vitality. though your physical form remained animated, with a pulsing heart and functioning lungs, the essence of life seemed to elude you. lying motionless in your bed, gaze fixed upon the ceiling, devoid of movement or cogitation, a silent observer of your own subdued presence.

the third anniversary of your separation from matt had arrived. his solemn vow to mature and seek you out had dissolved into the void, his hollow promises echoing like a haunting melody, draining every ounce of hope from the depths of your soul.

you held onto his words like precious gems, trusting his assurances that the fault lay not with you, but with the passage of time. every pledge he made, every vow he uttered, you embraced with unwavering faith, convinced that time alone stood as the sole adversary between you.

he said it was just goodbye for now.

you've journeyed through countless seasons, yet the grip of the past refuses to loosen its hold on you. in the depths of your contemplation, you ponder whether he remains the enigmatic mind reader, the innate master of stealing the spotlight in every scene.

In the intricate dance of fate, blame never found its place upon his shoulders. the capricious goddess of timing, with her whimsical ways, stood as the true adversary. despite your earnest efforts beneath the shared moon, the cruel revelation dawned upon you that you existed in separate galaxies, destined to traverse divergent paths.

you stood as a silent witness to his triumphs, beholding the realization of every aspiration he had shared with you, every dream that had ignited his soul since childhood.

you shield the truth of your anticipation with unwavering resolve, never to divulge, while the flickering flame of hope persists, casting its glow upon the passage of time.

you harbored a mix of longing and anger towards him, a tumultuous blend of emotions swirling within you like a raging tempest whenever his memory surfaced. despite his assurance of a temporary farewell, absolution never found its place upon him.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

“it doesn’t have to be like this, matt,” your tear-filled eyes beseeched earnestly. “please. let’s just try”

“we tried. you tried, i tried. we've given our all, but, the pieces do not align," matt exhaled heavily, his head shaking in resignation. “it’s not working, y/n.”

the weight of his words struck you like a thunderbolt, sending a sharp pang reverberating through the chambers of your heart. the sensation of your heart fracturing into countless shards mirrored the tears cascading down your cheeks, painting a portrait of profound sorrow and emotional tumult.

“so what? you're calling it off?” you whispered softly, the words hanging in the air like a delicate veil of uncertainty. the weight of those few syllables carried a profound sense of finality, a moment frozen in time where the echoes of your voice seemed to reverberate with unspoken emotions, leaving a lingering question mark in the stillness of the room.

“no, I'm not," matt declared, his gaze meeting yours as he drew nearer. “it’s just goodbye for now. i promise, y/n, i’ll seek you out when the time is right."

it was an unavoidable outcome. prior to embarking on this relationship, he forewarned you of the potential unfolding of events in this manner. his personal aspirations demanded his undivided attention, leaving scant remnants for you.

you were entangled in a toxic web, yet your yearning for him was insatiable. his presence became as vital to you as the air you breathe, an indispensable necessity for your very existence. each breath you took felt incomplete without him, your lungs aching for his essence as your heart echoed its longing for him.

“we'll cross paths again?” you inquired, the tremor in your voice betraying the depth of your emotions, tears cascading down your cheeks like a relentless stream of sorrow.

“yes,” matt murmured, his tone laced with a sense of urgency, drawing you close as he captured your lips in a fervent embrace. “when we can handle it. when we're ready. when theres nothing in the way and your well-being reigns as the sole focus."

tears cascaded down your face, mingling with his own, as you reunited your lips once more in a poignant connection.

you withdrew, a profound stillness enveloping the room, before fixing your gaze upon him for a final moment. tenderly cradling his face in your hand, he surrendered to the moment, closing his eyes in quiet surrender.

his gaze met yours, a silent exchange that conveyed volumes beyond the reach of words. with a faint smile, you nodded in understanding before gracefully stepping away, leaving unspoken sentiments lingering in the air.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

the aroma of alcohol saturated your senses, the vessel cradled in your hands, your vision weighed down by its effects, while the symphony of the bar's music danced subtly in the background, adding layers to the ambiance.

the complexity of the situation deepened as you grappled with the internal conflict of straying from your usual habits, recognizing the necessity to purge his lingering presence from your thoughts.

the intricate web of circumstances entwined around you as your companions coerced you into this night out, knowing your reluctance to venture forth since matt.

the pulsating club scene unfolded before you, your friends immersed in the chaotic dance of fleeting connections, either lost in the rhythm with unfamiliar partners on the dance floor or ensconced in the front seat of a stranger’s car

the strands of hair gently tucked behind your ears, your eyes shutting in contemplation, followed by a subtle shake of your head, signifying a moment of introspection amidst the chaos surrounding you.

amidst the tangled threads of emotions, you grapple with the enigma that is the concept of one-night stands, questioning the motives behind the players who toy with hearts like pieces on a board. despite your unwavering belief in love, the complexities of this generation make it a Herculean task to hold onto that belief with unwavering faith.

matt thought the same.

he unveiled to you a realm of love so profound, so uniquely tailored, that it transcended the boundaries of conventional understanding. through his actions, he gently nudged you towards the realization that perhaps your musings on love were not mere illusions but rather fragments of a deeper truth waiting to be unveiled.

in the labyrinth of your emotions, a fear lingers like a shadow, whispering doubts about your ability to bare your soul to another as you did with matt. the depth of your love for him resonates with such intensity that you find yourself contemplating the notion of offering your very heart, a symbol of your devotion, should he ever seek it.

the ache of his absence reverberates through the very core of your being, a poignant reminder of the profound connection you shared with him that remains unmatched by any other relationship in your life.

exhaling a deep sigh, you gently set the glass upon the polished bar counter, the clink barely audible over the din of the room, before rising gracefully and proceeding deeper into the labyrinthine depths of the bustling bar.

you've downed one too many, the liquid courage coursing through your veins, blurring the edges of reality as you navigate the labyrinth of intoxication and self-reflection.

“y/n?”

[novantinuum]

[Updated 11/06/24]

I've written a kinda ridiculous amount of content for this fandom at this point, so this post is intended as a fun way to organize all that content on this blog. I'll update this post periodically as I share more works.

Most of my works are gen fic- with a heavy focus on character study and "bridging the gaps" of canon with lil bonus scenes of what I feel certain characters might've been up to in between episodes. However, I do on occasion enjoy exploring the Connverse relationship dynamic... and actual ratings for my stories vary.

Ratings and pairings will be listed on this masterpost, as well as any particularly vital content warnings. For more thorough content warnings, please reference the tags on the linked AO3 listings.

~~~

Multichapter AUs:

Crack The Paragon Series

Series Summary:

In the wake of an ill-fated discovery, Steven vies to pick up all the pieces. The Gems are in turmoil: Pearl can’t speak the truth, Garnet chose to separate, and Amethyst's confidence has hit rock bottom. Somehow, his mom is Pink Diamond. But what exactly does that mean for him? Why did his mom really choose to fake-shatter herself and obscure her identity? With the very foundation of his home life shifting around him, can Steven ever hope to find answers on his own? Or will his growing obsession with seeking this truth ultimately crack his world all over again? Canon divergent as of season 3 episode 20, Bismuth.

Stories:

Crack the Paragon- 70,705 words, 14/41 chapters. Rated T. Light Steven/Connie.

In another world, he doesn't have his mother's sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops. Steven falls apart.

Content warning: Major character injury.

Everything Is Different Now- 1,014 words. Rated G.

After her unfortunate exile, Bismuth returns to her forge to work, and to reflect on her mistakes.

Seeing Pink- 2,475 words. Rated G.

Following a video call with Connie, Steven reacts to the discovery that... his eyes aren’t always human anymore.

Misalignment- 16,680 words, 20/? chapters. Rated T.

His family’s not present the third time he runs away... They never see the creature he becomes. Early corruption AU.

Content warning: Minor body horror.

Hollowed Moon- 8,046 words, 14/? chapters. Rated T.

Stevonnie doesn't crash the Star Skipper onto that jungle moon. Instead, they crash on a craggy fragment of rock suspended thousands of miles away from its associated colony, long forgotten. On that lonely hunk of rock is a domed garden. And standing in that garden, just as lifeless seeming as the rest of it, is a pink Gem.

~~~

Other AU/Non-Canon Works:

For the purpose of organization, this section contains two fics that have since had elements of it debunked by Steven Universe: Future. However, said fics were written to be "canon compliant" at the time of posting... thus, on AO3, they still are listed within my "canon compliant" series.

Shattering Atlas- 4,274 words. Rated T.

A boy can only carry an entire galaxy upon his back for so long before the weight of it all finally becomes too much. (Written about the Corrupted Steven Theory, long before SUF's airing.)

Content warning: Depression, body horror.

The Price of Freedom- 791 words. Rated T.

Even while sightless, even when she only exists as thin fingers of light rapidly spreading outwards from her gem, Rose can sense that something is deeply, dreadfully wrong. Written for Whumptober 2020, Day 1: Waking up restrained.

Bi the Way...- 2,886 words. Rated T. Steven/Connie.

Connie has a question, and also something to say.

(Originally written to be canon compliant after the movie, debunked by Steven and Connie not officially getting together until the end of Steven Universe: Future.)

Errands- 3,034 words. Rated T.

Steven has an endless stream of items on his to-do list, so many that he often forgets to properly take care of himself in between. Sneaking off into the woods on the daily to vent out his repressed emotions is merely one of them.

(Originally written to fit between Snow Day and Little Graduation, but the back half of Steven Universe: Future strongly suggested that Steven did not visit Jasper in between the events of Little Homeschool and Fragments, thus I consider it debunked.)

~~~

Canon Compliant Works:

This part of the list contains almost everything within my "Brandishing the Star: A Crystal Gem's Guide to the Universe" fic series on AO3. Fics are listed chronologically.

Tipping Point- 1,104 words. Rated G.

Garnet helps remind Rose of what she's fighting for.

New Star- 1,321 words. Rated G.

Organic life is a fragile, fickle thing. This much is true. What's also true is how the death and resurrection of a humble lion was enough to make Rose Quartz re-conceptualize everything.

On the Origin of Hybrids- 1,684 words. Rated G.

The question— incomplete, and yet bursting with long-held curiosity— emerges from thin air while he’s about to tuck Steven into bed in the back of the van one night. In retrospect, no parenting book could’ve ever prepared him for this one.

His Shield- 334 words. Rated G.

Greg attempts to comfort his son during a thunderstorm.

Donut Debrief- 1,578 words. Rated G.

And like a burst of sunshine emerging from between the murky grey clouds, the young boy swings the door open wide, face alight with a level of enthusiasm that before, she didn’t even think was humanly possible on an overcast Monday morning. Two days after their disastrous island adventure, Sadie and Steven talk about regrets, making amends, and discover something they have in common with each other.

Autumn Bliss- 546 words. Rated G. Light Steven/Connie.

Is there any better way to spend a crisp autumn day than playing around in piles of leaves? Written for Connvember, day 1.

Alienation- 1,151 words. Rated G.

“But... I’m human,” he whispers to himself, the words tasting more like a desperate plea for belief on his tongue. “Or at least, part human. Right?” - An awkward interaction with his dad and Connie leads Steven to realize that he's now too Gem to all the humans in his life.

Ramen Soup For the Soul- 263 words. Rated G.

Steven and Connie noisily slurp some soup at the dinner table.

Creative Outlet- 837 words. Rated G.

“Log date, 7 14 9. “Today, the hybrid creature Steven attempted to further secure my loyalty by introducing me to a concept he calls... ‘music.’

Taste of Ordinary- 12,756 words. 2/3 chapters. Rated G. Light Steven/Connie.

"Connie, can we talk?" When a much needed moonlight conversation with his best friend turns into an attempted (and failed) "spring break" from all his responsibilities as a half-Gem, Steven must finally come to terms with the full truth of his heritage and all six thousand years of its consequences. Takes place between The Question and Made of Honor.

Outer Strife- 4,282 words. Rated T.

Connie clenches her fists at her sides, envisioning a world where she still feels the safe, comforting weight of Rose’s sword strapped upon her back. But instead, it’s the Crystal Gems’ darkest, most forlorn hour... and she’s absolutely useless to them. Is there anything she can do to aid them in this struggle, anything at all? (Or: the beach fight in Reunited, but from Connie's POV.)

Content warning: Panic attacks

Ballroom Etiquette- 2,809 words. Rated G.

As much as it pains him to admit it amidst all the boring protocol, Pearl is absolutely right. There’s no room for imperfection at a Homeworld Ball. In which Steven is publicly introduced to the Gems of Homeworld as Pink Diamond, and he experiences the first true stage fright of his life.

Finally Free- 1,653 words. Rated G.

Lapis genuinely doesn’t know how many hours (Days? Months? Years?) have passed when light finally graces her eyes once again.

Vulnerable- 730 words. Rated G.

Three words. Three little words, and the intergalactic conflict he‘d been training his whole childhood to defend against was over. But the hurt... he's not sure the hurt will ever go away.

Fifteen- 1,607 words. Rated G.

Every year, on the fifteenth day of the eighth month, Pearl runs away.

Cycles- 1,216 words. Rated G.

Amidst their danger-fraught mission to retrieve Pyrope and Demantoid's prisms, Pearl and Steven take a much needed break.

Freedom to Dance- 382 words. Rated G.

Stevonnie celebrates the first anniversary of Era 3 with their friends and reflects on how Homeworld has already changed.

Stardust- 618 words. Rated G.

White Diamond is testing out new terms of endearment. But no matter White’s intention with this little nickname, Steven doesn’t want it.

Contact- 16,002 words. 4/4 chapters. Rated T.

The first (and with any luck, only) time it happens, he’s almost 16.

Content warning: Major character injury.

Disconnected- 993 words. Rated T.

“What’s going on—?” he croaks to absolutely no one (weakened, vulnerable, alone, pathetic—), a jolt of fresh panic surging through his entire system. He’s never seen a gem flicker before. He has no idea what this means.

The Shatter Wish- 1,045 words. Rated T.

You’re 16 years and 2 months old (give or take a few days) when you finally realize you want to die. - (Steven's POV, second person)

Content warning: Depression, suicidal ideation.

Second Skin- 9,272 words. 12/12 chapters. Rated T.

Steven can’t help but dread the undefined cocktail of emotions that trigger this newest power... 12 shorts, each delving into Steven’s developing opinions and feelings about his “pink mode” in SUF.

Content warning: Light self harm, panic attacks

The Brother on the Other Side- 2,978 words. Rated T.

Lars has no idea what he was expecting the moment Steven texted him in the middle of the night to ask if he could come over, but being immediately tackled in an intense vice-grip of a hug the second he opened the door probably wasn’t it.

White Noise- 1,766 words. Rated T.

In which Steven opens up to Peridot a little about his anxieties surrounding his recent “pink episodes.” Peridot thinks she can help him determine the root cause of this problem, but Steven— marooned amidst age-old insecurities and his fears of hurting those he loves— still isn’t convinced he wants anyone’s help.

Content warning: Panic attacks

Like Clockwork- 509 words. Rated T.

Connie's got mountains of studying to do. (It's not just an excuse to avoid reminders of old traumas, of course it's not! Everything's fine.)

Fight the Future- 3,604 words. Rated T.

She’s poofed, he repeats to himself like a dying man’s mantra. She’s poofed. She’s stuck in the rubble, but she’s only poofed. She’s fine, and I’m fine, a-and— Above the scars of Steven's wreckage, thunder claps like mighty titans colliding in the heavens. (Or: what happens in the moments after Steven and Jasper's rematch.)

Oceans- 5,358 words. 6/6 chapters. Rated T.

Her fingers clutch onto the folds of his blanket with a protective fervor, but they’re still trembling. Stars, they’re trembling. Wordlessly, he understands. His are too. - A series of shorts detailing what might've happened in the moments after I Am My Monster, told from six different points of view.

Memoir of the Marks Unseen- 6,786 words. Rated T. Light Steven/Connie.

Steven’s messy self-corruption has scarred him in a manner that transcends the mere physical. Battling through suffocating waves of self-loathing and relapse, the path towards healing and acceptance is set to be his most challenging venture yet… but in a unexpected twist of fate, he eventually comes to find a cathartic solace in the tangible marks left behind.

Content warning: Depression, light body horror.

Intake- 6,427 words. 2/2 chapters. Rated T.

Steven fills out an important form.

Content warning: Depression, suicidal ideation.

Fear of Falling Apart- 1,961 words. Rated T.

Maybe it’s a bit selfish to wish for conflict in a time of relative peace, but right now Connie would give anything to face an opponent she could physically fight. A battle she could win. Because the fact of the matter is, no matter how stubbornly she might try, there’s no way she can fight off Steven’s inner demons for him. - In which Connie receives a panicked midnight phone call, and rushes to Beach City with Lion to try and help.

Content warning: Light body horror.

Ticklish- 2,675 words. Rated T. Steven/Connie.

In which Connie’s subconscious, innocent touch helps Steven realize just how nice the sensation of gentle fingertips gliding across the surface of one’s gem can be.

No Escape From the Weather- 5,756 words. Rated T.

Amidst an unusually stormy late summer’s day, Steven finally amasses the courage to confide in his dad about one of his greatest traumas.

Content warning: Panic attacks

Just a Little Something- 1,486 words. Rated T. Steven/Connie.

Steven surprises Connie with a handmade gift. Written for Glow Week 2024, for the prompt "Casual or Surprise."

(Our) Shadows Before the Dawn- 957 words. Rated T. Steven/Connie.

It's their nights that are the most difficult.

Content warning: Panic attacks

Advocate- 5,472 words. Rated T.

There’s more to this story, Lars can feel it brimming in his very bones. He can feel it squirming around in the tangled coils of his guts, a primal, virulent rot that threatens to consume him from the inside out. Something is off with Steven, something is distinctly wrong. And oh, does he hate being right. - When an unexpected visitor tumbles through the magic portal in his hair long after hours, breathless and bright pink, Lars must amass the courage to weather one of the most difficult conversations of his life.

Content warning: Depression, mentioned suicide attempt, panic attacks.

Tides of Renewal- 2,559 words. Rated T.

Now twenty years old and living on the other side of the country, Steven spends his morning relaxing on the beach, musing about his past, and having a chat with his dad.

Nightlight- 1,364 words. Rated T. Steven/Connie.

“So, wait— what you’re saying is that you want me… to glow for you—?” - In which a drowsy, throwaway comment inspires Steven to— fueled by Connie’s implicit trust and encouragement— test the very limits of his self-restraint.

~~~

OC Works:

This subsection is the home for any fics I post in my post-canon OC-centric series, "Echoes of Chalcedony." It follows the story of a young half-Gem named Jean Maverick and their journey towards learning about the Gem side of their heritage.

First Impressions- 11,026 words. 3/4 chapters. Rated T.

A young human-Gem hybrid- a soul yet unknown to the rest of the Crystal Gems- takes their first brave steps towards greeting their heritage firsthand.

~~~

NSFW Works:

Fics in this section will be posted on my NSFW AO3 alt, Astraliies. I personally consider some of them "canon" to my own extended fic universe, but they will not be sorted as official entries in my "Brandishing the Star" series due to rating.

It Takes Two- 2,865 words. Rated M. Steven/Connie.

It’s possible. The timing lines up. What Connie fears is one hundred percent possible. The problem is, a potential pregnancy this early into their relationship was absolutely not in their plans.

Content warning: Contains frank discussion of underage sex. Connie is 17.

knowing, loving, being- 21,450 words. 3/4 chapters. Rated E. Stevencest, Steven/Connie.

A uniquely charged encounter in Rose’s Room forces Steven to contend with matters of attraction and desire he never could have predicted for himself. To what extreme is he willing to journey in fulfilling these burgeoning fantasies? And in what ways will such an experience forever transform him? (One thing’s for sure, though… once Connie’s brought into the loop, the most intimate dynamics of their marriage will never be the same.)

Content warning: Selfcest, explicit sexual content

Love Handles- 7,178 words. Rated E. Steven/Connie.

In which a stray, innocuous comment from Connie pushes Steven to dedicate the bulk of his free time to ‘getting into shape.’ But when new stressors rise to challenge him, he begins to struggle to maintain this leaner, more muscular form for her. Not only that, but is this even the kind of body he desires for himself in the first place?

Content warning: Explicit sexual content, feeding kink

[wszczebrzyszynie]

would love to know absolutely anything abt doc in ur au... ur design is so lovely to my doc infested brain

Im not even sure where to start? Doc is not a prominent character, but hes important to other characters stories, namely Grian and Scar ... He is, above all, a master of mechanical modifications. He doesnt trust any form of genetical modification (in the form it is now its a very young, experimental and lawless field of science, although he wouldnt even call it that; its not that its risky or new, its... tactless, to him. He sees it as a disgrace to science as a whole), himself being more machine than a human at this point; he almost lost his life to an explosion. The entire left side of his face is mechanical, as are his arms (which are also switchable; he can switch his arm or hand for a different tool, depending on what he needs at the moment. Similar to Impulse, except Impulses arm is a normal budget one and therefore not very accurate, while Doc is possibly one of the richer man in the galaxy). After Tango helps Zed with his... splitting situation, Zed actually starts working with him

Doc himself is not a criminal. Hes one of the... middle men, willing to work for whoever he respects and whos willing to pay him, whether that be for crime or for a government (he is friends with Ren, who himself is mechanically modified in smaller amounts)

He lives in a hollowed out moon. No ones exactly... sure, how hes done it, or even if the moon was a real moon in the first place, but the entire thing is mechanical. Its impressive and also very intimidating. He probably has a few smaller moons similar to his main one; a lot of them look abandoned at first but they very much arent and he will hunt scavangers down. Which is how Tango gets to meet him

Ive mentioned Skar and Grian before because they are stupidly indebted to him. They... tried to rob him, caused a lot of destruction, so much so that it went way over both of their bounties combined. So instead they now have to do everything in their power to get the money for him and not end up dead. Sometimes he feels some sort of pity for them but then he remembers theyre both old and also wanted criminals. He has the unexplainable ability to track them everywhere; they dont know if he planted some sort of chip in their brains, or if hes just connected to every camera in the galaxy, but they cannot escape him

[astroboots]

Cherry Lips

Summary: Steven really likes your lipstick.

Content: Inappropriate use of lipstick, messy blowjobs because like L'oreal, Steven is worth it.

Word Count: 2.4k

Author's notes: Inspired by this beautiful piece of artwork by @guruan-is-not-here

ASTROBOOT’S MASTERLIST | MOON KNIGHT MASTERLIST

The lipstick you're planning on wearing tonight is a striking shade of red. The shocking brightness of a stop traffic light. The bursting richness of pomegranates. Eye catching, alarming and dreamy all at once. It's your favourite and they stopped manufacturing it a while back.

Since you can't up and buy it anymore, you only pull it on special occasions. The last time you've worn it was at a close friend's wedding. You're not going to any churches or galas tonight, just the local cinema, which isn't an extraordinary occasion that justifies pulling out the old favourite shade. But it doesn't have to be the location that's special. Sometimes, what matters is the company you're with. And who is more special to you than Steven?

You're standing in front of the mirror that hangs over your hallway. On an ordinary day, when you're standing here on your own, the tiny hall can already feel a bit cramped, considering the size of your micro-studio of a London flat. Today though?

Today, the way that Steven is standing behind you, almost plastered to your back, you can barely maneouvre your hand far enough to apply the lipstick without jabbing your elbow into his eyesocket.

"Steven, shouldn't you be getting ready too?" you say, in a gentle attempt to goad him into moving into the main space of your flat. But Steven stays unmoving.

He can't hear you.

Mouth dropped open, jaw slack, he's staring at your mirrored reflection with wide-eyed attention.

You turn around and tilt your head in his direction to try to catch his attention. But even though he's staring right at you, he remains frozen. Trapped in some spell, his eyes are vacant. You have to repeat his name for a second and third time and even then the only physical reaction you get from him is a hard swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing in the hollow of his throat. 

At this pace, you're going to have to break out the smelling salts to snap him out of it. 

"Steven, everything alright?"

"Red," he murmurs, and you squeeze your eyebrows in confusion at his lack of coherence. 

"Your lipstick..." he sounds almost dazed. "It's very... red–very pretty! It's very pretty I mean, it looks amazing on you."

You follow the line of his eyes and the way he's staring at your lips. His tongue darts out to swipe across his own bottom one, leaving it glistening in the dim light of your hallway. 

Steven is looking at you, like you hung each individual star in the galaxy and created every constellation discovered by NASA. 

You can't help but smile as lean up and press your red lips against his. Your hand cups the back of his neck and you pull him down closer until you hear that breathless little gasp you love so much escape between his lips. Until that soft noise melts into a deep moan that you can practically taste on your tongue. 

It tastes like hunger. 

It's wonderful to feel so deeply wanted by someone. 

You pull away, leaning back and Steven looks like he's been knocked senseless. Eyes shiny like glass. Kiss swollen lips made more prominent from the red of your lipsticks smudged on him. He's drawing up his hand, thumb brushing against the red. 

Whipping around, you realise that he's staring at himself in the mirror. He looks enamoured with it, the smears of red that are on him like a mark seared into his skin of where you've touched him. 

It becomes something of a thing between you two. 

Before every date night, you'll apply a thick layer of red lipstick on your mouth, the kind that will smear at the slightest touch. 

Then you watch in amusement as Steven spends the whole of the evening trying to act discreet (and failing) as his eyes will unfailingly find themselves flickering back to your lips. 

You'll watch as he tries to steady himself at a dining table at the small intimate and cozy restaurant sat across from you, hand gripping on top of his knee as you lift your glass and leaves a clear imprint of your lips on the glass. 

Hear the small little gasp that escapes from his throat when you lean close to his ear to ask him what he's ordering. 

Feel the whole bodyshiver of his as you press your lips to his cheek sometime between dessert and the bill. 

Sometimes you even wear it on your lunchdates between work shifts when you know he's having a rough day. Because Steven likes the attention and you like to give it to him. Love the way that fascinating blush blossoms across his chest, travelling up his throat and adorns his cheeks as you pull him into an unoccupied bathroom of your favourite cafe and you leave soft kisses like stamps on a love letter on his skin. Ink of red, pressed into his chest and collarbone and the corner of his mouth. 

He doesn't wash it off after either. Wants it to linger for as long as it possibly can. It's why you start to leave the lip stains where his clothes will cover them. Can't have Steven looking like a crime scene when he gets back to work at the museum. 

You'll wear it when he comes to pick you home from work. Watch the way his whole body is thrumming with excitement on the tube ride back to his flat. Eyes never leaving your lips.

Those are your favourite special occassions. When you get to leave your mark on him uninterrupted in the dim lighting of his home in privacy. When you get to take your time to peel off his tie like a beautifully wrapped Christmas present adorned with a silk bow and glossy wrapping paper.

You'l leave kisses on the softness of his stomach that has his hips hitching upwards. The insides of his thighs, that will has his legs shaking and trembling and gasping.

Tonight, you have him seated on his armchair,  trousers pulled down to his ankles, while you're down on your knees, caged in by his thick thighs. 

You press your lips to his soft skin, feeling him tense and rigid above you. Knees trembling next to you, and you pull back to admire your work, the perfect imprint of your lips on his golden skin. 

"Love, love -- I, please..." 

He's a shivering mess. Soft curls plastered to his forehead, white teeth biting into his full bottom lip as he watches you through half-lidded eyes. 

So fucking pretty this one.

You press another kiss, this time on the inside of his thigh and you smile to yourself as his hips hitch up, chasing after your mouth with a choked gasp.

"Please, what, Steven?"

Flicking your eyes to his face, Steven is struggling to verbalise much of anything right now. Maybe you're not being very nice, because you know exactly what he wants.

He's hard. You can see the hardened outline of his excitement straining the front of his jeans. If you leave him hanging much longer, you swear that the seams are going to split open.

"Yo--your mouth, I--I--" he manages to finally stutter out. "Please, please."

God, he even begs pretty. For all that you would love to tease him more, have him tremble, begging and crying underneath you until tears are running down that gorgeous face, you find that it's impossible to deny Steven.

Your hand comes to the rivet of his jeans, popping it open and before you even have the chance to ask him to lift so you can pull them down, Steven's hips are bouncing off the chair so fast and so hard you nearly tumble backwards on your arse from the force of it. Luckily you recover fast enough, steadying your balance with both your hands on his hips. Then you pull the restricting garment down his thighs, far enough that you can free his cock from the barrier of his boxers.

His cock springs up and bobs and nearly slaps your cheek with the momentum, and he's already repeatedly murmuring embarrassed apologies as he forces himself to sit back down into the chair. "Sorry, sorry! Did I--Did I hit you?"

The concern in his voice makes you want to snort with laughter. But whatever laughter you had in your throat dies as you see him. All brain capacity is rerouted to the sight of his cock standing up in full attention between his legs. Eager and twitching, in a deep ruddy dark pink. The tip of his cock practically glistens under the dim light as precome oozes down the length. It makes your tongue salivate. Makes you want to take him into your mouth and try to swallow as much of him as your gag reflex will allow.

Before your brain fully finishes that thought, you lean down, parting your lips and do. Everything inside you aches and burns as you taste him. He's so fucking thick, heavy and absolutely perfect as the weight of his cock throbs on your tongue.

But you'd be lying if you said it wasn't a struggle to fit all of him, can wrap your lips down halfway before you feel your throat protesting, lungs burning, and tears prickling the corner of your eyes.

Underneath you, Steven is having a hard time keeping still. Hips stuttering into your mouth as you try to adjust and swallow around him. He's trembling so hard he's vibrating against you.

"Oh god, oh god, love, I--I-- fuuuck," the last word comes out as a broken moan as he he slides up and deeper into your mouth. Not a shred of restraint or control left in him. You're sputtering, your own saliva escaping from your lips that are wrapped tightly around him and dribbling down your chin, making an absolute mess of both of you.

And god, it's intoxicating to have him this way, you think it'd be worth the asphyxiation and lack of oxygen to your brain and whatever semi-permanent damage it would cause to your brain functions to just keep going, if it mean you can prolong this perfect moment.

The air around you thins, your chest feels tight and despite your hesitance and your desire to keep going, you pull off, gasping for air as the hard girth of him no longer blocks your airways.

You swallow down oxygen, as fast and deep as your lungs will allow, as you try to catch your breath, feeling more than a little bit lightheaded as you do so. Your chin is sticky, and as you bring the back of your hand to wipe it off, there's a residue of spit, precome and bright red smeared all over.

Fuck, your lipstick.

You grumble as you stare at your hand, you instinctively want to wipe it off on your clothes, but if you do, it'll never come out no matter how much Vanish stain remover you rub into it.

"Sorry, sorry," Steven's voice comes to you from somewhere above, and you tilt your head up to him. Hands hovering nervously as he's reaching over the side table for a wad of tissue. "I made a mess of you, didn't I?" he continues. Then he's leaning over, his hand gently cupping your jaw to tilt you up so he can clean you up.

You're almost giggling at how genuinely sorry he sounds, even as his cock, as hard as ever, is nestled between his thighs, twitching and jerking as if to protest the temporary lack of attention.

Steven's eyes follow yours, ducking his head until you're both staring at his cock. Smeared with the red stains and imprints of your lips on him.

An absolute fucking mess.

Leaning up on your knees, you grab the tissues from Steven and move towards him to repay the favour, but he stops you.

"Leave it," he says abruptly. No stuttering this time. No longer the sweet apologetic tone he held before. It sends a thrill across your nerves to hear him like this. Curt, demanding... greedy.

Tilting your head up, you observe him. The darkened eyes blown wide as he stares down at the red smears you've left on his cock. He looks enthralled by it. It's that same look as that evening by the hallway. Dazed like you've cast some witches' spell on him.

It makes your heart squeeze tight in your chest as you watch him. Emotions swelling and expanding until it even blots out the throbbing heat between your legs.

God you want to indulge him. Give him everything.

"Steven, get my lipstick from my bag."

He blinks up at you, until you're jutting your chin in the direction of your purse behind him. Even in his daze, obedient as he always is, Steven scrambles quickly to comply and starts rifling through your handbag before he finally finds the prize and hands the shiny tube to you with shaky fingers.

You smile to yourself as you pull of the cap and twist the tube. Before Steven, you'd barely used an inch of it, having been so careful to savour it and make it last. Now the lipstick is down to its last gasping breath depleted almost all the way down to the base, and with what you have in mind, it's going to completely run out by this evening.

Bringing it to your bottom lip, you look up at Steven who's watching you attentively, as you drag it slowly and decadently across your lip. An unnecessarily thick layer, as you see his mouth drop open.

Worth it, you think to yourself. Definitely worth it for that look on his face alone.

You pull the cap back on, then set it down on the floor next to you, as you scoot closer to Steven, pressing your lips to the base of his cock and watch the length of of it twitch and jump at your touch.

Then you lean back to observe your work. The perfect imprint of your lips marked in a striking shade of red. The red signal of a stop sign at a traffic crossing, except you have no intention of stopping.

Your lips part, wrapping your mouth around the flushed tip of Steven's cock as he throws his head back with a torn gasp, hands cupping the back of your head as he pulls you down deeper on him. Your face tingling with the warmth of his hand on you, as you try to swallow him down deeper.

You must be smearing the perfect imprint of lipstick all over the length of his cock. But that's okay. It just means you have to do it all over again. And that's okay too.

After all, you only use this lipstick on special occasions and who is more special to you than Steven.

Dedications and credit:

Wrote this in honour of @guruan-is-not-here gorgeous, beautiful and insanely horny thot sketches-- in particular the one where she had covered Steven with lipstick stains and my brain just did that funny thing where it imploded and turned into this fic. You can find more of her artwork here and her SFW account at @guruan where you'll be treated to some of the most beautiful Moon Knight fandom you'll see. Also do drop by her ko-fi. A single art piece can take hours and days and weeks for artists to do, and this amazingly talented genius is sharing her work with us all for free!

As always, this is also dedicated to @thirstworldproblemss because she had to listen to my insanity, but also also ALSO!!! This insane clown has written the most horny-beautiful-angst-smutty goodness fic of what happens when Marc sees those very same lipstick stains and I may or may not have written this for the sole purpose so that you good people can see the mindblowing excellence that is that fic. ILUUUUUUU TWP.

a/n: to be notified of new writing updates follow astroboots-writes and turn on notifs.

[ataraxiaspainting]

Fly Me to the Moon.

Yan Jingliu x F Reader.

Synopsis: “You looked at me like I was made of stardust, and told me that even the moon above us could not compare to the brightness in my eyes.”

Warnings: Yandere themes, violence, and unhealthy relationships.

Word Count: 1k.

i’m so sorry if i’m wrong about xianzhou landscapes lol…

*~*~*~*

The Xianzhou Luofu’s eclipses are as rare as someone who can walk on water.

Moons come and go across the Flagships’ skies as they make their way throughout the galaxy, and so do the suns. They all change from pink to red to gray, and none of them stay for long. Unlike what the Abundance teaches its creations, life has its way of teaching that nothing lasts forever. Permanence is but a fantasy and only those who are blind fools seek out such a blasphemous dream.

But if it is a blind fool you must be to see her whole for the first time, you will gladly be one.

You met just a fragment of her oh so long ago, under the very covered sun that was oh so rare. You dared not to look away from her as she moved towards you like clockwork, her sword dragging across flowered ground. The moon was white, and so were the blossoms. So was her hair, which looked like a bundle of shooting stars. She didn’t smile, but she didn’t frown either. An expression as neutral as water.

She had a black blindfold over her eyes that had the sign of a crescent moon.

To you, she was brighter than the eclipse above.

You two moved together in a circle, a cautious waltz, but also an enticed one. Curiosity.

“You are a Cloud Knight, aren’t you?” She asked. The grip on her blade’s handle loosened just slightly. “I can tell by the spear you hold.”

You nodded, and a chuckle quieter than the gentlest wind escaped her lips.

You took a step backward as she took one forward. It was not out of fear but at the very least well-meant care—a dance crafted from years of training under daylight and starlight.

…

Now, hundreds of moons later, you take a step backward as she now takes three forward. Fear controls you like a puppet as you point your spear, which has by this point been remodeled and repaired from many battles with the Abominations of the Abundance. Daylight and starlight become one with the same snow-white eclipse in the sky.

She is smiling. Her sword no longer glides along sprouted soil, but a stone path painted with the blood of your fellow soldiers. Her blindfold is off, her eyes the very image of a hollow, depraved husk. Mara.

She does not chuckle when your hands shake, but rather she loudly laughs.

It is the farthest thing from gentle.

…

Jingliu has many presences, but none of them last for very long. Some stay for a week at most without issue, but those are rare and so far distanced from one another. She lets you leave, most days, to go buy tea from the market or to go sit down and feed the birds or to let you practice aiming your weapon at the training dummy she placed outside your living quarters. 

When she first brought you here, she told you that you are free to duel her whenever you wish. Win, she said, and you can leave whenever you wish too.

The only thing is you can never manage to even touch her.

The uncharted areas around the cottage she acquired for both of you are dark, and the only places where there is light are the ones that have straight and narrow paths, paths to the few places Jingliu allows you to go unsupervised. Or is the definition of unsupervised in Jingliu’s world is to have you watched from a few kilometers back?

You cannot tell. Nor do you want to know the answer, because you know the truth will stomp on your hope like it was a lowly insect.

You also don’t walk alone at night for reasons like those. You cannot see anything, only hear and think.

You cannot see Jingliu if she is watching you from behind.

Even though she swears on her honor that she does not follow you closely.

You can hear Jingliu’s breathing though, how desperate she can sound, or how calm she can sound. It all depends on what moon shines through the brightest.

…

Meals with Jingliu are always the same.

No matter what her mood is at that particular moment, she always stares at you from across the table.

Sometimes her hair is well-kept, on days when she is happier and more active in her self-care. Sometimes she bats her eyes at you. Sometimes she seems to stare past you, to the unlit fireplace or the vase of flowers near the entrance door. Her stares can turn into glares in an instant, or her glares can turn into loving gazes. You wish most days that she wouldn’t be so distant, but you don’t want her to be suffocating with her affection either.

You just want the best of both worlds. An eclipse.

“How is it?”

Your attention is abruptly captured. Her gaze appears slightly less serene yet intensifies, while yours remains filled with doubt. Your hand ceases the motion of guiding the fork towards your mouth, descending listlessly onto the table.

“Is something the matter, [First]?” Genuine confusion on both of your parts.

“...N-No.” As you lower your gaze and gently shut your eyelids, your whole body quivers uncontrollably, leaving you powerless over its movements. “It’s good.”

“Are you sure?” Your gaze evades her as if being controlled by a small prey animal’s instinct. Your heart races, as if on the verge of a sudden collapse. “You can tell me if something is wrong with the food.”

Your fingers interlock with such force that you fear they might leave imprints on your skin.

“No, no… it’s good, really.”

She tilts her head. “You aren’t eating, though.” You hear the sound of a chair being dragged, a sure sign that she is standing up. “You can be truthful with me, dearest. I won’t be upset.”

Gazing out the window, you offer no response. The sound of her sigh reaches your ears, yet your focus lies elsewhere. A single leaf gracefully twirls upon the surface of the nearby pond, without a care in the world. You hope it will not drown.

[iced-cofi]

I kinda just wanna write game reviews here sometimes. *Ahem*

It's pretty damn rare that you find a piece of media like this throughout the course of your life.

One that elegantly, carefully, and lovingly traverses infinite despair in an infinitely more hopeful way. One that shows you that no true problem can be solved in a single day. One that teaches of the compassion in our hearts, for those around us and the world we all live in.

And, for me, one that teaches that in the face of despair, fear, and sadness, beauty can also be found, and that no matter how pointless it can seem, fighting, trying, and persistence is how we can push through the end of the world. And now matter how all encompassing it may seem, the end is never truly the end. It's just a new beginning.

I am, of course, referring to...

Before I continue, I must clarify, as I did in my ACT review, this will feature spoilers, and moreso than almost any other game I've played, you simply must play this blind if you can.

Ok, a brief, completely spoiler free review. *Ahem again*

Outer Wilds is a beautiful, relaxing yet occasionally stressful first person space exploration game, in which the only currency you collect through the game is knowledge. The solar system is your own journey through the puzzle box the devs made. The music is beautiful and touching, the visuals are distinct yet simple, and the story is like nothing else. The only genuine 10/10 I can give. It's brilliant.

Ok, I will now put a funny picture, this is your opportunity to leave spoiler free.

3

2

1

Ok now time for the real gamers to chat.

This game. This fucking game. It reaches deep to the innermost part of my mind and soul and shows me a more accurate depiction of the human experience than any other game, and it don't even got humans.

It is the absolute definition of existential optimism, and I think it's refreshing, and borderline spiritual.

And this fact is helped because the way you get to the end is entirely up to you. Every single person who plays this game will play it differently. Everyone follows what they find amazing and interesting, and everyone finds what they think is, and they fly and crash and die and laugh and love every moment they spend in this dark, enrapturing galaxy.

The combination of nostalgic foresty landscapes, crumbling planets, shoddy craftsmanship, and banjo laden melancholy music make for a uniquely sentimental game, which allows you to connect with what theyve done.

I mean fuck some of the coolest ideas for planets and worlds I've ever seen.

Brittle Hollow and it's crumbling deadly surface, and infinitely heavy black hole at the center

Dark Bramble, always enshrouded in fog and mystery, endlessly repeating dangerous, vine coated voids filled with the most terrifying creatures in the known universe

The Hourglass Twins, the most clearly time based astral body of all, as two planets pirouette through the sky, trading impossible amounts of sand due to a shift in gravity

And of course, the Quantum Moon, a blend of all other planets with an ethereal, eternally shifting vibe layered thickly on top.

It's brilliant, and scary, and add layers and layers to your story.

And the characters and all so clearly defined, with interests and dreams and hopes. Reibeck hates space but is obsessed with the Nomai technology and history, so he can't help but explore. Feldspar and his sporadic attitude and wealth of courage allowing him to explore anywhere, as long as it's got beasties. And of course, the one, the only, the best o Outer Wilds character, Gabbro!

This chill as mother fucker got trapped in the same time loope as you, and is simply to chill and content to give a single fucking shit, while still helping where he can with advice and knowledge. It's awesome, and he also teaches you how to speed up your death with meditation, so that's... Cool.

And of fucking course I gotta talk about the music.

It's hypnotic. It permeates your body and makes you happy and sad and lonely and any other thing you can imagine, while still fitting the game, and any individual story moment. It's brilliant.

Like, listen to this shit.

And what about this???

And how about this, which is from the dlc, which i will write about in another review when I'm not exhausted!!

I gotta say, this isn't a review in the way I'd like it to be, cause I'm tired, but fuck me play this game it's amazing and the music and visuals and every piece is just... Oh my God.

I hope you enjoyed reading this delirious mish mash of words I wanted to say about a game I really love.

No joke, 10/10

Would crash into the sun again.

Thanks!!

[cadaverre]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ the swords are drawn, they really are

JUNO ☆ they/them (i dont mind she/her) ☆ minor (xv) ☆ bisexual ☆ cancer sun, libra moon, sag rising ☆ intp-t ☆ aus ☆ either a celestial god or a pebble ☆ anxious mess ☆ i change my theme way too much ☆ sparkling water > regular water ☆ in love with piercings and wants all of them ☆ professional procrastinator ☆ a humanities/arts/music girl in a science/maths world ☆ dont know much abt society but i know i hate capitalism ☆ wouldnt survive a day without spotify ☆ free palestine!! ☆

LOVES ⭑.ᐟ - literature, the arts, queer culture, astronomy + astrology, witchcraft, feminism (no terfs allowed!!!!), cold drinks, miniskirts, doc martens, dark red, nail polish, mascara, lipgloss, brie (always dreaming of cheese), pinterest, spotify, my headphones, the ocean, my grandparents house, spring+winter, fiddling around on the guitar, fantasising about being a famous musician, finding new music, snow, going to concerts, psychology, web weaving, learning languages (currently learning spanish and i want to learn latin!)

BOOKS ⭑.ᐟ - osemanverse, the hunger games, books by rhiannon wilde, tim te maro's subterranean heartsick blues, all the best liars, books by octavia butler (specifically parable of the sower and parable of the talents), the last true poets of the sea, acotar, the weight of the stars, the seven husbands of evelyn hugo, the picture of dorian grey, house of hollow, howls moving castle, harry potter (mainly marauders, FUCK JKR), i kissed shara wheeler, red white and royal blue, song of achilles, wings of fire, the secret history, crime and punishment

MOVIES + SHOWS ⭑.ᐟ - juno, dont look up, little women (2019), scream (i like most of them but 1996 is my fav by far), ladybird, barbie (2023), some of the mcu (thor and guardians of the galaxy <33), spiderverse (itsv is my love), gilmore girls, stranger things, loki, heartstopper, arcane, scott pilgrim takes off + scott pilgrim vs the world, mean girls (i love both hehe), dr who, percy jackson (the show, i um havent read the books), gossip girls, do revenge, my little pony, the bear, hannibal, we are lady parts, bottoms

MUSIC ⭑.ᐟ - boygenius + solos, taylor swift, glaive, brakence, paramore, ricky jamaraz, melanie martinez, lana del rey, ashnikko, girl in red, billie eilish, doja cat, big thief, adrianne lenker, ethel cain, mitski, remi wolf, cigarettes after sex, ericdoa, tv girl, clairo, the neighbourhood, bon iver, deftones, maneskin, courtney barnett, poppy, the smiths, american football, susannah joffe, renee rapp, mcr, the front bottoms, pierce the veil, gracie abrams, feeble little horse, esha tewari, radiohead, chappell roan, charli xcx

ALBUMS ⭑.ᐟ - the record, 1989 tv, around the fur, riot, three cheers for sweet revenge, all we know is falling, hypochondriac, girl with fish, doa, things with wings, punk2, songs, masterpiece, guts, lust for life, dykttatuob, punisher, stranger in the alps, i care so much that i dont care at all, collide with the sky, manic, badlands, folklore, trafoamp, k-12, crybaby, portals, this is why, ttpd + the anthology, hit me hard and soft, the bends, brat, the secret of us, home video

TALK TO ME ⭑.ᐟ - asks and dms are open for chatting/venting/whatever, i might take a while to respond ☆ i rarely follow people without an intro post/descriptive bio (with name, age group and pronouns especially) ☆ discord is astraeasparrow ☆ i dont currently have any trigger warnings tagged but just send me an ask/dm if you want me to tag something specific!! ☆dni: people who are: rude, racist, homophobic, transphobic, zionist, terfs, sexist, ableist, antisemitic

TAGS ⭑.ᐟ

#juno.txt -> ramblings, original posts

#asks -> asks ive answered

#ask bait -> send me asks!

#tag games -> tag games ive participated in

#beautiful mutuals -> interactions with my beautiful mutuals !

#spotify -> my music obsession

#junocore -> posts that are so incredibly mecore

#🩻 -> posts abt/for my fav

(im working on a better taglist with my moots tags)

SOCIALS ⭑.ᐟ pinterest ☆spotify ☆ carrd ☆ pronoun page ☆ letterboxd ☆ stats.fm

SIDEBLOGS ⭑.ᐟ @likeasugarcubeinateacup (notes app poetry) -- @sirenliight (short poetry + aesthetics) -- a close friends blog (you can ask for the url, i might say no) (im not that active on them though)

NOTES/UPDATES ⭑.ᐟ

☆ prev urls — astraeasparrow -> gu1lty-as-sin -> glcive

☆ last updated: july 10th 2024

☆ dividers by @plutism

thats all!! stay hydrated and have a wonderful day/night everyone <3

[supersaiyanjedi14]

SABEZRA WEEK: Day 6 (Nov 2): Stars

*For ten years, the stars separated them.  For a few brief moments, they were reunited.  Now, one seeks to cross those stars one last time.

For most of Ezra’s life, the night sky of Lothal was the only one he had ever known.  The visible constellations, the twin moons shining down, even the way the clouds obscured the night lights.  All of this had been as constant to who he was growing up as his name.  Seeing that sky again for the first time in a decade should have been one of the most welcome sights imaginable.

But something critical was not here.  Or rather, someone.

As Ezra looked out into the twinkling blackness, all he could think about was how Sabine was not here to share it with him.  Right now, she was underneath a very different sky with very different stars, ironically one he had also become extremely familiar with.  He had already known that Sabine had stayed with Lothal all this time, but he hadn’t really appreciated until now how much she had made the planet into a new home for herself, standing post for him to finally come back.  Now here he was, but without her here, the victory felt hollow.  Instead of standing here at the top of his old comm tower, gazing up into the beauty of the Lothal expanse alongside him, she and Ahsoka were still on Peridia, a literal galaxy away and just as able to get back home as he had been.

He had hoped that the stars would be what reunited them.  Instead, they had returned to what they had been for the past decade; a cage with thousands of twinkling diamonds for bars.

His senses picked up a presence approaching.  Without even turning back, he could tell who it was.  As saddening as it was to not have Sabine back here with him, the three other faces he had missed so badly had gone a long way towards lifting his spirits.  The warm, gentle aura of Hera Syndulla announced her approach before she even stepped off the lift.  He did not turn to greet her even as the door slid open and the sound of her boots came clicking across the floor.

“Not going to give me advance warning?”

Ezra let out a light chuckle and finally turned to face her.  Beyond the age lines and the flight jacket she now constantly wore, she was almost completely unchanged from when he last saw her, a sense of permanence that had been a relief for him.  “Didn’t want to rub it in.”

“Funny,” Hera smiled, “Kanan always tried to pull the same modest act.”

“So you’re probably sick of it?”

“On the contrary, I find it endearing.”

Ezra laughed and turned back over the railing, the night sky just as flawless as ever, the light pollution of Lothal City notwithstanding.  A twinge of sadness reentered his mind as he thought back to his master, the man who had been as much a father to him as anything for four years.  “I wish he was here.  I could really use his help.”

Hera sighed.  “So do I.”  she walked over and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.  “But,” she said, pushing her own clear sorrow away with the practiced ease only a mother at war could do, “I have a feeling he’s not the only one you’re missing right now.”

Leave it to Hera to pick up on what was bugging members of her crew.  “I can’t help it.  I’m finally home, but it feels like it was for nothing.”

“Don’t say that.”  Hera said it sternly yet gently.  “You just said it, you are home-“

“And she’s… they’re not.”  He corrected himself mid-retort.  He didn’t want to come across that he was only worried about Sabine.  Ahsoka was stuck out there too.  “It took all that effort just to bring me home, and now they’re stuck out there too, Thrawn’s back, and we’ve got next to nothing to work with.”

“Which is why we’re working to figure out how to address the situation,” said Hera, “something I think we can both agree will go better once you get some rest.”

“But they’re-“

“Ezra,” Hera interrupted, now turning to look him in the eye.  It was baffling to be so much taller than her now yet still fall under the same effect of her gaze.  “You can stop being noble for a moment.  I know you do care about Ahsoka and bringing her home, but she’s not who’s really on your mind and we know it.”  She paused, then gestured to the tower.  “I should know.  I saw the same stuff from Sabine here all this time.”

Ezra blinked for a minute.  “She was?”

Hera smirked.  “You two are a lot alike, after all.  And more importantly, it is because of Kanan that I understand how you both feel.”

Ezra knew there was no use denying it.  He lowered his head for a brief moment, the rose up to look at the stars again.  “You know, those stars kept us apart for so long.  Now we’ve just switched places.”

Ezra felt Hera’s arm wrap around his shoulder as she pulled him into a comforting one-armed hug.  “If being a pilot has taught me anything, it’s that stars are never a wall.  They’re a road, one we all travel down.”  He turned to look into her loving face.  “That road will lead Sabine back to us.  Back to you.  I promise.”

Ezra grinned.  She was right, of course.  After all, she had found her way to him in the first place.  And if anyone could find him again, it was Sabine Wren.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Seven Deadly Sins

Thanks for the tag, @the-golden-comet (here)!

I'll go with the cast of Supernova Initiative and What Lurks In The Hollow for this one!

Rules: which of your OCs would you assign to which of the seven deadly sins and why?

GREED

Jasper Astrophell (Supernova Initiative)

Jasper's the son of an intergalactic billionaire arms dealer, and is someone who not only was raised with the world on a silver platter but who was very much sheltered from their galaxy's true realities. He loved going to parties, buying the finest flying cars and spaceships, going on dates, etc - standard "rich spoiled playboy" stuff. But he also takes after his father's sense of business and is a brilliant inventor, being also incredibly intelligent when it comes to making brand deals and is pretty much a space opera version of the Wolf of Wall Street whenever he gets involved in the company's dealings.

Savvanah Hahn (What Lurks In The Hollow)

Savvy embodies the sin of "greed" in a non-monetary sense - she's not really interested in money and honestly hates people who waste it. She embodies greed because she is a very intense person who wants to have control over the spheres of her life she can control - because she feels that, if she loses that control, bad things could happen to her and those she loves. She is also very serious when it comes to "her stuff" be it her turf, her & her boyfriend's favorite arcade machine, or her seat at a concert, and is not at all afraid to get into brawls to "keep her territory" in a very troublemaker teen way.

WRATH

Vesper Foxx (Supernova Initiative)

Vesper's life ever since the day she lost everything as a child, was dictated by rage. Rage at the destruction of her homeland by foreigner invaders, rage at having to hopelessly watch her brother be tortured to death, rage at escaping and being too young to have her revenge just yet at the time. She left her younger sister and cousin behind to pursue revenge because no matter how much she tried and tried and tried to move on, that primal anger born of trauma would never leave her. She would never have peace unless her brother's killers suffered the same fate as he had. No matter how many lives she reaped on her wrathful path to achieve it. Full alien girl John Wick.

Liam Steele (What Lurks In The Hollow)

A troubled youth, Liam has a reputation for being an incredibly defiant, almost antisocial, teenager who gets into fights for the most trivial things. He's seen as a bully by kids who do not know him well and as a nuisance by any authority figures around him. But that's not what he really is - he's not a bully, he only gets into fights with people who provoke him or who try to hurt others (a.k.a. he beats up the ACTUAL bullies), and just has a short patience because no one other than Savvy ever tried to understand him, so he never bothered letting down his guard. Since he thought being vulnerable would only get him hurt, he embraced the "tough teen who listens to rock and spends the day at the arcade or skulking around town" facade to be left in peace.

GLUTTONY

Jack Tithus (Supernova Initiative)

Jack dictates his life in the pursuit of having more than what he had when he and his siblings were just street urchins on their crime-ridden birth moon. Even though so much time has passed and he's now a rich and renowned intergalactic thief, the wound of all the shame and toil they went through still haunts him. He wants all the fun, food, clothes, and adventures because deep down, he wants to prove to himself that he's more than what everyone once called a "filthy street rat." He's obsessive about being free to do whatever he wants and his incessant pursuit for more, and more, and MORE, is what drove him to continue the path of a thief in the first place - he's hungry for the opportunities he never had in the past, restless to never stop indulging himself in freedom and always keep having more and more adventures, because he fears that if he does stop, he'll prove his enemies right.

Christine Nespor (What Lurks In The Hollow)

A former wanderer who found solace in the solitude of the small town of Vinethorn Grove, Christine is a creative soul who, stifled by the toxic expectations of her shitty family, left her life behind to indulge her soul in who she really wants to be. She is hungry for adventure, for the freedom to express herself and feed her soul in beautiful sights, to see nature, see unique places, and generally indulge herself in being alive. To her, life is a wonderful buffet, and those who know how to make the most of it, are the happiest! She knows how to find the silver lining in any situation, even if others cannot.

LUST:

Kye Thalax (Supernova Initiative)

I considered putting him in the "Wrath" category, but then I realized that Kye - despite wanting bloody revenge for the death of his father and the pain they suffered in the past - is far too calculated and cold to be considered wrathful. He is bitter, but his emotions rarely get the better of him. Kye is known to take a deceitful and cunning approach to taking down his enemies, sometimes even resorting to seduction to destroy them. He uses those people's vices against them - if someone he wants to kill drinks too much, he poisons their drink; if they gamble, he poisons their cards; if they just want to have sex, he seduces them and poisons them in the safety of their chambers; if the person is obsessed with killing, he poisons the hilt of their weapons so the one who dies is the killer and not the would-be-victims.

Mrs. Draycott (What Lurks In The Hollow)

OKAY SO THE ONLY ANTAGONIST ON THIS LIST LET'S GO lmao.. Mrs. Draycott is a middle-aged woman, somewhere in her very late forties or early fifties, who is considered a very "upstanding citizen" in the small town of Vinethorn Grove. She's an active member of the local community and often uses her reputation to get what she wants. Mrs. Draycott (her name is Adelaide btw) is the embodiment of a Karen and takes a creepy liking to Dylan Millihan after he and his sister Amy move into town. A "lonely" widow drawn to his youthful (23M) looks and who all too soon becomes very stalkerish towards him- often paying them unwanted visits saying she "just wanted to drop by", or stopping by Dylan's jobs, or just generally following them around town, hoping he "becomes smitten with her too". At first, the siblings just tried to politely ignore her, but as she became more insistent and annoying, Dylan eventually snaps at her at a community event and tells her to leave him alone. Feeling spurned, Mrs. Draycott then showed her full aggressive personality and became a true Karen, trying to make the siblings' lives a living hell and turning the already wary townsfolk against them.

PRIDE:

Artemis Zreeth (Supernova Initiative)

Artemis is a very prideful and cocky young man. One of his fatal flaws is that he is often too stubborn to realize he is in the wrong and wants to do things his own way even if they eventually go wrong. A lot of why he clashes with Kye when they have to work together is that Artemis refused to consider Kye genuinely wanted to make amends and redeem their friendship.

Dylan Millihan (What Lurks In The Hollow)

Dylan has a strong personality and generally pushes people away rather than be friendly. He's also someone who isn't very approachable and generally wants to do his own thing, live his life and hates people who try to pry into his personal business. He is very bitter about the fact he had to give up his budding medical career - he was halfway through medical college when their toxic grandmother died leaving behind only MASSIVE GAMBLING DEBTS and regret - and some percentage of that resentment comes from the fact he hates the fact he was never able to fulfill his potential and got stuck as someone who in his point of view was only "half-good" - his self-esteem is kind of shitty, if you can't tell lol, and he hides it behind a layer of a harsh pride.

ENVY

Aleks Keldora (Supernova Initiative)

Not necessarily envy but Aleks suffers from severe social anxiety and thinks he's "never going to be good enough" so he's "better off pretending to be somebody" else like a social chameleon.

Erin Niemand (What Lurks In The Hollow)

Erin's a loner who holds some considerable resentment towards kids who are able to be popular - which she isn't able to do - and deep down also feels "lesser" than the kids who have full families, since her mother abandoned the family - which made Erin develop some serious trust and self-esteem issues.

SLOTH

Meridian Shardd (Supernova Initiative)

Not on purpose - but they can be overwhelmed by being given too many tasks and may panic and not do anything instead, or will be halfway through a task and get distracted by something else and ditch the task to do that something else instead.

Indigo "Indie" Lauriel (What Lurks In The Hollow)

She's a laidback hipster girl who rarely takes things seriously and has some serious procrastinating issues, and can be generally pretty lazy.

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid @thecomfywriter

@thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @amaiguri

@differentnighttale, @leahnardo-da-veggie

@cherrychiplip

[we-the-witch]

To distract herself from the abomination that is alcoholic soup, she decided to make some food herself. "Sarmale with sour cream and mămăligă. Yes, those are grape vine leaves and yes they can be eaten with the rest of the meal. Didn't have any meat left, so I made it with just rice and a few vegetables. Mămăliga is made out of corn."

[illuminatedquill]

Prologue Summary: Thrawn has been defeated. The Imperial Remnant has fled in full retreat, disappearing into the Unknown Regions. All across the galaxy, citizens of the New Republic celebrate - free, at last, from the Empire's long shadow. But as the galaxy looks forward to a new era of peace and prosperity, not all are able to share in the celebrations. Mandalore, once again, finds itself on the brink of civil war. A new, violent faction of Mandalorians - vowing to punish the traitors who led Mandalore to ruin - has risen, sowing fear and anger wherever they strike. With the violence reaching a fever pitch, a clandestine meeting takes place in the dark ruins of the once great Mandalorian capital city of Sundari . . . one that has ominous consequences for the hard-won peace enjoyed by the New Republic. And as the future of Mandalore lies at stake, Bo-Katan Kryze makes a desperate call to the planet Lothal, hoping to reach the only two people she trusts to help prevent another war that will destroy any chance of a brighter tomorrow for her people . . .

Overture: RUIN

Ruins of Sundari, Night

Walking through the ruins of Sundari, Kaizer reflected, was a perfect illustration of the current state of Mandalorian society. He had been present during the Night of a Thousand Tears and, like countless others of his kind, believed that to be the true end of Mandalore.

Thankfully, he had been proven wrong. The planet - and its people - survived, as they always do. But it had come at a great cost. Countless wars throughout Mandalore's history, waged with outsiders and with each other, had left the planet barren. Rock and steel and ancient traditions are all that had survived until now.

Some saw it as a victory; proof that Mandalorians could survive anything the galaxy threw their way.

Kaizer knew different. It was the death of a thousand cuts. His people were starving; everything they subsisted on was imported. Crime, disease, and a general air of hopelessness pervaded the population. They had no economy to speak of; nothing to trade with other nearby planets, except for their services as mercenaries or bounty hunters.

The New Republic offered little help. They were too far from the Central Core, and they were still cleaning up the mess from Thrawn's campaign of conquest. At least, that was the official excuse.

Bo-Katan Kryze, newly installed in her position of Mand'alor, was desperately trying to find help where she could. But she was running out of time.

Yes, he reflected darkly, Mandalore survived. But survival cost more every time - and at some point, the cost would be too high to justify. There wouldn't be anything - or anyone - left to pay that price.

His steps echoed in the hollowed-out subsection of the city's underside. There were no city lights to guide his way, but the natural light from the stars and moon above were enough for him to see his way. The larger rubble and debris had been moved aside for somewhat safe passage; thin pools of murky water covered the exposed ground. Small insects and reptiles scattered in his wake as he made his way to the meeting spot.

Finally, ducking through a narrow opening between two chunks of large rock, he arrived in a secret alcove that appeared to be the remains of an archive. He gazed around at the shelves, holding countless data pads; all ruined, he was sure, by the wear and tear of time over the years.

He sighed. The valuable history and knowledge of his people lost so senselessly.

Would it end someday? The cycle of violence that plagued Mandalorians?

Kaizer clenched his fists. I will end it, he thought. I know the way to save us all.

I will do it for you, Melody. I will make it right. As you asked.

"You're late," came a voice in the dark.

He turned to find a cloaked figure, their robes shimmering crimson in the dim lighting. Kaizer barely made out a face: a hooked nose and a cruel twist of a mouth, along with amber eyes that glinted with a dark intelligence. Humanoid, male, and middle-aged.

Kaizer eyed the man apprehensively, weighing his response. He still had no name for this man or any other distinguishing information on his purpose or why he was here. He had appeared months ago, offering him the resources to kick-start his plan - a plan that would have taken years to get off the ground. Now everything was in place, mere months after his first initial appearance.

Their goals were aligned, was all that the man offered about himself. Suspiciously so, Kaizer thought at the time.

"Planning a coup happens to be a time-consuming activity," Kaizer replied.

"Indeed," said the man. "But my master asks for a progress report. He grows impatient."

"Your master," Kaizer repeated. "You've never said why he's so interested in helping our cause."

"As I've said before: our goals are aligned. Bo-Katan must not remain in power. New leadership would be beneficial to Mandalore's future in the years to come."

Kaizer studied him. "You're that scared of her?"

"Not so much her, but who she has chosen as her successor."

Kaizer arched an eyebrow. "You've heard the rumors regarding Countess Wren, I see."

"As have you," stated the man, a touch of impatience entering his voice. "I would hope you have a plan to counter Bo-Katan. Sabine Wren is a problem, one that must be handled swiftly."

He leaned against a nearby wall, arms crossed. "We do have a plan. Sacha is ready. She has long prepared for her role in the events to come."

"Yes, your young ward . . ." The older man sounded doubtful.

"Is there a problem?" asked Kaizer sharply.

"The prophecy. Is she aware of it?"

"Of course she is. Her whole life is based around it."

"So is Sabine Wren's," countered the other man.

"Only she is not aware of it," replied Kaizer. "That gives us the advantage. The Countess remains in the dark without that knowledge. My sources tell me that Bo-Katan has not informed her about any of it."

The cloaked man went quiet for a moment. Then, he said, "I worry about your ward's lineage. It could affect her loyalties."

Kaizer gritted his teeth. "Sacha is loyal to me. To the cause. I have no doubt of that."

"She is a Wren. They are known traitors."

"Rebels," corrected Kaizer. "They fought for Mandalore. Even misguided as they were. And Sacha is only half-Wren, on her father's side."

The other man snorted disdainfully. "Your continued affection towards Clan Wren baffles me considering your own lineage, Kaizer. Your own clan - "

" - Deserved what happened to them," retorted Kaizer. "I don't need to be reminded of my own history, old man. Sacha and I will see the plan through. Bo-Katan will fall, and Countess Wren will never take the throne. I stake my honor on it."

"And what of my master's gift? Should your plan fail, are you willing to use it?"

Kaizer paused, feeling sick at the thought.

The Endfire. Kyr Tracyn.

"Better Mandalore be turned to dust, then let it fall into the hands of Sabine Wren in the future," urged the cloaked man. "She will bring your people to ruin. My master has seen it. You have seen it. That is why you agreed to accept our gift."

Kaizer chose his next words carefully. "It is to be used as a last resort, only."

The other man settled into dissatisfied silence but said nothing further. Kaizer took that as his cue to leave.

"I wonder what your father would think of you now, Kaizer Saxon," said the cloaked man to his back.

Kaizer slowly turned around, his blood freezing at the mention of his surname. It had been many years since he had last heard it uttered out loud. He had long ago chosen to walk away from it.

He shrugged. "He's dead, old man. And you will be too if you mention him again in my company."

A flash of a malicious grin underneath the cloaked hood. "You are so much like him, my dear boy. Not just in looks - your heart, as well."

Kaizer's eye twitched. His fingers rested on the butt of his blaster, holstered on his side, tapping away gently.

After a few tense moments, he finally restrained the impulse to murder the other man and stalked away into the ruined city.

Minutes passed and the cloaked figure stepped out and made for his own exit, taking short, cautious steps through the ruins.

When both men were long gone, Koska Reeves - personal guard to Lady Bo-Katan - stepped out of her hiding spot nearby. Checking her comm-link to ensure that their conversation had been recorded in its entirety, thanks to a data-recorder cleverly hidden in a shelf within the ruined archive, she then sent a quick message to her lady.

"Lady Kryze," said Koska. "You heard everything?"

"Yes," came the reply. "Are you safe? Did they see you?"

"I'm safe for the moment. They never saw me, my Lady."

"Good work," said Bo-Katan, her voice full of pride. "Come to my private suite immediately. We have much to discuss. The Elders are already here."

"At once," responded Koska. She paused. "Permission to speak informally, my lady?"

"Granted, Koska."

She let out a deep breath. "This is real kriffing bad, Bo."

"Understatement of the century," came Bo-Katan's dry reply. "We are knee deep in bantha poo-doo, I admit."

Koska thought back to what was said in the clandestine meeting. "Is it true?" she whispered. "There was another survivor of Clan Wren?"

There was a long pause - so long, Koska thought the signal had died. Finally, Bo-Katan said quietly, "Yes. Very few knew about it outside of the family."

"Even Sabine?" asked Koska.

"No. She was the exception. Her mother made sure she never knew."

"Why?" she asked. "Why wouldn't she want her to know?"

"Ursa had her reasons," said Bo-Katan. "But the main thing, as always with her, was that she was protecting Sabine."

Koska only knew Ursa Wren by reputation and from the stories told by Bo-Katan. The idea of a family member keeping the existence of one of their own a secret from another . . . she couldn't fathom it. How would that secret serve to protect Sabine?

"How - how does Sacha exist?" asked Koska. "And how did the son of Gar Saxon come to find her?"

"That's a long story, Koska. I'll explain it more when you return."

She nodded to herself and prepared her jetpack for take-off. The dark, ruined city around her suddenly felt malevolently alive - and it also felt like it was watching her.

But, one last question remained. "Bo?"

"Yes, Koska?"

"Are you going to call them?" she asked.

"Yes, I am," said Bo-Katan. "We need their help."

Koska thought for a second. "Everything will change once Sabine knows the truth," she said solemnly. "And this prophecy, too . . . she'll hate you, Bo. She might not be on Mandalore's side, once this is all over."

A deep sigh emitted from the comm-link. "I'll take that chance. But you don't know her like I do, Koska. I know her heart. I know who she gets it from. She'll make the right choice."

Koska didn't have anything to say in return. The words from Bo-Katan were hardly comforting. But it was all she had.

The future of Mandalore rested upon Sabine Wren and Ezra Bridger's shoulders from here on out. Their choices in the days to come would decide everything.

Koska shook herself mentally. There was still work to be done, and Bo-Katan would need her.

A Mandalorian and a Jedi, she thought, dark amusement flickering through her. They'll definitely cause problems, for sure. I just hope it's for the other side and not us.

She sighed. It was going to be a busy couple days ahead, full of violence and history shaping events.

Koska Reeves activated her jetpack and flew into the long, dark night.

TO BE CONTINUED IN:

THE FIRST VERSE OF A SONG OF STARBIRDS AND WOLVES

RECKONING

[xuchiya]

so innocent: so not pure 01

—--------------  ₊˚.༄ [chapter: 01] ₊˚.༄ —------------------

[i decide to not make it supernatural au, i'm sorry] words: 2.0k warning: childhood flashbacks, mentions of astrology, cursing, smut (public sex) and fluff with maltese yeosang ₊˚.༄ [chapter: 00] ₊˚.༄ - ₊˚.༄ [chapter: 02] ₊˚.༄

   summer 2002

   the morning summer sun was spent perched in their kingdom atop the old oak tree, a poorly excuse built tree house, whispering secrets like dandelion wishes on the wind. moonjin, a wisp of a girl with eyes that mirrored the summer sky– her presences resemble what an angel would look like, so innocent, and yeosang, a whirlwind of freckles and mischief– full of adventures and unpredictable. 

                they were inseparable. they were pirates on stormy seas, astronauts soaring through stardust, their imaginations painting vibrant worlds within the creaking confines of their wooden haven, “did you know that billions of galaxies together, trillions of trillions and trillions of stars in our universe?” her soft pitch voice made yeosang giggle but shakes his head upon hearing her trivia.

          “no that would be impossible …” 

             “but it’s true! stars would look like diamonds on the night sky. it will look beautiful.” moonjin’s admiration to astrology made yeosang curious about what so good about a ball of fire yet he didn’t interfere– seeing the sparkle in her eyes, the same as how stars glow. 

      “why did they name you moonjin if you like stars?” yeosang asks, tilting his head to the side. moonjin shrugs, having no clear explanation about his name, “my parents said i was born on a full moon … but-- i don’t know, they don’t have a special meaning to it.” yeosang watch her reaction carefully until he looks up to see the full moon already peeking from the 5pm sunset, his eyes settled on the moon above then back to the moon beside him, “maybe because there’s only one moon.”

   moonjin looks at him, confused “huh?” yeosang smiles at her, eyes showing his honesty, “you said there’s billions of stars in our galaxy, right? then even if there’s trillions, quadrillions of them– there’s only one moon that shines the brightest amongst them.”

  that moment there, the swirl of cold breeze of the summer night brought two hearts as one. their bond deepened with sticky fingers and shared laughter. building precarious towers of legos, devouring stolen cookies beneath the watchful gaze of a disapproving grandma, their days were a tapestry woven from shared adventures and unspoken promises.

   it was daisies and sunshine but when adolescence came, with its clumsy limbs and hormonal earthquakes, it had a way of shattering childhood castles. sophomore year arrived, cloaked in an awkward silence that settled between them. yeosang's smiles, once as bright, became tinged with a hesitant shyness. his eyes still held those same mischief, though now there’s something more that flicker of something moonjin couldn't decipher– longing, perhaps, or hesitance,  she couldn't name.

      the treehouse, their sanctuary, stood witness to their fractured friendship. conversations, once free-flowing rivers, became stuttered streams, punctuated by long, aching pauses. yeosang still talked to her, of course, but their interactions remained tethered to the surface, ghosts of their vibrant past echoing in the hollow spaces between them.

   moonjin, ever the observer, retreated further into her shell. her quiet whispers seemed magnified by the newfound distance, her words swallowed by the chasm that had blossomed between them. yet, beneath the shyness, a flicker of longing mirrored yeosang's – a yearning for the carefree days of shared secrets and sticky fingers, a silent plea for their laughter to find its melody once more.

     2024 brought more than just a new year for moonjin and yeosang. it marked the dawn of a new era, fueled by yeosang's determined push for change. gone was the lanky boy whose smile masked a flicker of uncertainty; in his place emerged a young man radiating newfound confidence, sculpted by hours spent in the gym and fueled by an unyielding ambition.

  that did not go unnoticed by moonjin, ever the keen observer, became an involuntary witness to yeosang's metamorphosis. the shy glances he used to steal in their freshman year were replaced by a steady, unwavering gaze that sent shivers down her spine. his once hesitant laugh boomed to a contagious one to other people near him, a vibrant symphony that drew surprised smiles from everyone around. including moonjin.

   “have i fuck you so dumb now that you can’t talk, eh?” moonjin was pulled out from her thoughts when her hair was pulled back at the same time, yeosang’s hips thrusting back. they were still on the same position as yeosang continuously slams back harshly, hitting the spot that sent moonjin squealing, moaning under his hold. yeosang lets go of his hold on her hair, grabbing her cheeks mushing them together, tilt her head to the side, “use your words, star.”

  the table keeps screeching each thrust yeosang makes as he picks up his phase, gripping her hips with one hand to keep her on place. moonjin nodded, “yes– yes you fuck me so good!” even if its inaudible, yeosang’s cock twitches from the immense look moonjin was giving. those doe innocent eyes fill with tears everytime his tip reaches her g-spot, mouth gape open struggle to keep her moans on bay, clothes wrinkle her skirt hike up to her waist exposing her milky ass that was now red with yeosang’s handprint.

   yeosang crosses his arms, gripping her waist tightly his veins popping out as he grinds his hips softly then pulling back and thrusting back in swiftly, edging moonjin close to her climax. he repeat the same actions when he felt his high coming, yeosang crawled his grip underneath her uniform to her covered chest; pulling down the bra as he started kneading her breast, pinching, circling her tits in his fingers knowing it takes her to her climax and on queue, he heard her cursing repeatedly, pornographic moans leaving her lips, “fuck fuck yeosang i’m cumming–!” yeosang leaned down pressing himself on your back, hips picking up its speed, going smoothly and swiftly as his mouth ajar broken moans, his breath close to her ears, “yeah? –shit did you just–” just like she mention a while ago, yeosang pull himself up,  his pants were now dripping with her arousal as her juices kept squirting out her cunt, her hips shaking as she chased after her high. 

   yeosang watches her unfolds in front of him, chest heaving, sweat trails down on her foreahead to her chin, her knuckles white from the intense climax. he chuckles, “you did great star … now its my turn.”

   he look behind him to see the chair in the same place, he pulled themselves down on the chair as he squeezed her ass in his hands, “make me cum.” moonjin, still recovering from her high, looks behind her as yeosang leaned back down on the chair; waiting for her to move. She sat between his legs,his cock still resting inside her. Her hands each side on his thighs as she started to pick up her pace. 

   she started bouncing herself on yeosang, hips moving effortlessly to meet his. the view was what yeosang dreamed, watching her ass jiggles each time she comes back down–best part? Seeing how her hole swallow his cock down to the base made him throw his head back, gripping her waist before bucking his hips up, stammering by the pleasure running down his veins as he pump his seeds inside her clamp walls. 

  when yeosang came down from his high, moonjin gradually remove herself; bending over with one hand spreading her ass to expose her puckered pussy which slowly spewed his cum. yeosang bit his lip, cock laying on his stomach twitch at the sight, “i– fuck that’s so hot, star.” 

   moonjin stood up, pulling her skirt down fixing her uniform, turning around to look at yeosang; her face red as a tomato not from the compliment but from the tiresome exertion to the extent of wanting to sleep on the spot but they have to clean up, “yeo come on, let’s clean up.”

   yeosang look at her as his chest, heaves still in his post-nut clarity, “5 minutes …” moonjin shakes her head, grabbing her littered panty on the floor when she felt a hand smacking her ass causing her to yelp, spinning to see yeosang smirking at her. he was leaning forward with his arms resting on his knees, tongue moisting his lips, “nice ass by the way.” 

   moonjin scoffed,“yeah thanks to you, my butt is probably sore tomorrow.” she mumbled, directing the blame squarely at him. yeosang laugh at her amusedly, “you should be used to this by now.” 

   she pouts at him, rolling her eyes dramatically, “yeah so does the slapping my ass whenever we bump into each other …” he extended his hands out with a ‘what’ look, “at least they know i can only tap that ass.”  “shut it doberman!”

  their ruckus continue as they clean up their mess, yeosang has to run back to his locker to change his pants which moonjin covered her embarrass face but yeosang praised her for that. the playful bickering dissolved into comfortable silence, the setting sun casting long shadows over the silent classroom. they idle near the open window, letting the cold breeze whish its way in, blowing their hair gently.

   yeosang leaned against the chair, mesmerised by the celestial canvas unfolding before him. the whispers of the wind carried the scent of salt and sun-kissed sand, weaving a lullaby around him–  the soft blush of the clouds, the swaying symphony of cherry blossom dancing against the fading light. he turned, gaze landing on moonjin, bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. she stood a few feet away, leaning against the wooden table with an air of quiet contemplation. her hair, a cascade of sun-kissed gold, seemed to catch the last rays of light, turning her into a radiant silhouette against the fiery backdrop.

   yeosang's breath hitched, his heart suddenly doing a double take in his chest. the scene – moonjin, framed by the fiery sunset, her quiet silhouette exuding an ethereal beauty – struck him with the force of a tidal wave. it was as if the world had paused, painted in vibrant hues just for his eyes, with moonjin as the captivating centrepiece. 

    He knew how beautiful she is–heck he witnessed how she went from being the nerdy looking limp kid back in 4th grade then evolving to an athletic appealing young woman she is today.  his gaze traced the line of her neck, the way it curved gracefully where it met her shoulder, her figure down to her milky skin. each detail, bathed in the golden hour's glow, amplified his admiration, sending a tingle through his fingertips.

  he wanted to capture this moment, freeze it in time like a precious butterfly caught in amber. he wanted to step closer, whisper her name into the fading light, and bask in the quiet magic that seemed to swirl around them. but his feet remained rooted to the spot, his words imprisoned in his throat. the fear of shattering the delicate bubble of their shared stillness held him back, a silent observer in his own unfolding dream.

  as the last whispers of the sun faded, moonjin turned, her eyes catching him in a fleeting moment. there was a surprise in her gaze, a flicker of something unspoken that mirrored the storm brewing within him.

     and then, just as quickly, her lips curved into a soft smile, the warmth reaching his eyes even before her words did. "what is it?" she murmured, her voice a gentle echo in the twilight, yeosang swallowed, finding his voice at last. "noth–" he breathed, his gaze never leaving hers. "you–," he hesitated, a soft smile curling his lips, "you look beautiful"

  moonjin's cheeks flushed a delicate pink, the setting sun mirroring the blush on her skin. but her eyes, sparkling with amusement, held his gaze unflinchingly.iIn that moment, under the fading light of the setting sun, yeosang knew that these feelings he had to her were not just any infatuation– they’re more than that and he is sure of those feelings. 

     and he hopes that maybe one day or someday when the time is right, he gets to express those bottled up feelings to her and maybe a pinch of hope if she feels the same way. 

         with moonjin as the captivating muse to his every whispered verse, he’s willing to do more than this.

taglist: @jonghostie , @tigressnamsoon

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: The story of the living moons ( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)    

Extract from the journal of Jovana Khan, space explorer and archivist, regarding human mythologies

“It is safe to say that in all of my travels across the stars I have encountered many tales and legends that defy imagination.

The sentient stones of the Gen’hana, the leviathans of the crystal seas of Tagosha, the howling mines of the Darvin Deep; yet all pale in comparison to a legend I have recently discovered amongst the most recently discovered space faring people called “humans”.

They spoke of a tale both long ago and yet somehow far in the future when they faced down the greatest foe their species had ever found while traveling the stars.  Creatures of such malevolence and rage that not even the mightiest of their war machines could stem the tide of their slaughter.  That in the end their entire species was nearly wiped out by these beings as they took the flesh from both the living and dead and molded them into twisted monsters the likes of which have not been seen since.

These monsters were known as the “Brethren Moons”.

Stories of these beings origins differed between each telling, but each description of their final form was the same. A hollowed moon covered in living flesh gliding through the stars like some undersea creature. Plains of pulsating red muscle visible from space and tentacles so massive they could shatter starships with a single swing.

They reproduced by creating advanced signal transmitters of some kind and seeding them throughout the galaxy. When they landed on a planet they would lay dormant, for centuries at a time, until the dominant species reached a certain technological level. At such a point the transmitters begin emitting a signal that would either begin driving individuals mad with hallucinated visions or begin controlling them and urging them to create more of these beacons, or “Markers” as they were called, to further spread the control amongst the populace.

At first I did not believe such madness they spouted. I thought I was the victim of one of the human pranks they are so fond of playing on non-human species. They even agreed with me that just hearing it would be hard to believe, and that is when they produced photos and videos for me to witness. They told me that these were ancient archived material that was circulated through the current human populace as a warning of what to look for should they ever encounter one of these enemies’ in the future.

What I saw was……horror, beyond any words I know to give form.

I watched from a security camera as a human who was enthralled by these Brethren Moons begin twisting and contorting violently. Bone breaking through the skin and flesh melting away and reforming as if it was made of putty all the while listening to the human screaming out in pain.

When the transformation was finished all that was left of what had once been a normal human was a ghoul of nightmarish proportions; and if that was not enough they came in different sizes and shapes.

Some were as tall and wide as a spaceship doorway with arms so thick they could shatter steel like it was paper. Others were decapitated heads running on spider like legs leaping between walls like a Tanganian Monkey. Then there were the grotesque creations that appeared to have been formed by several or several dozen bodies fusing together to manifest worms that could swallow you whole with jaws as big as an engine core.

The humans I spoke with told of how their efforts to fight the monsters were thwarted by members of their own species who had come to worship the creatures as holy beings sent to save their souls. A dogmatic and corrupted faith sprung up that worshiped these moons and their ghoulish creations as the next step of humanity’s evolution.

They spoke of epic battles waged in the stars and on the surfaces of every human colony as the monsters were relentless in their conquest. Nothing seemed capable of stopping their rampage until the unlikeliest of heroes stepped forward; a human who was always in the wrong place at the right time.

A human named Isaac Clark.

First discovering the minions of the Brethren Moons on a derelict spaceship, Isaac would fight his way through waves of horrific monsters and dastardly cultists and stop the nefarious machinations of the moons not once, nor twice, but three times with nothing at his disposal save the weapons he crafted.

Humans speak frequently of Isaac and his accomplishments during those dark times. They state without a sliver of disbelief on how he dropped portion of a planet that had recently been mined on to one of these Brethren Moons and shattered it single handedly all the while fending off the devious hallucinations of the special abominations as they warped his mind. The Moons feared him so much that they would bombard him mentally with projections of his wife that told him over and over to kill himself, forcing him to battle these devils not only in the real world but within his very mind as well.

The conclusion of these necromorphic nightmares legends is shrouded in mystery, as is the fate of the human savior Isaac Clark. Every human I have spoken to tells of how eventually the Brethren Moons finally laid siege to the human homeworld just as Isaac arrived to warn them of the impending attack. Some say that he rallied the human survivors in a desperate last stand against the moons and emerged bloodied but victorious, while others tell of how the corrupting influence of the moons finally shattered the mental state of Isaac and he joined their ranks to see the ending of his species. Seeing as how humanity still remains, I have been more inclined to believe the prior rather than the former.

In any case, it is a testament to humanity’s endurance and perseverance to have survived such an ordeal of galactic magnitude.”

[traveller-of-the-knight]

Only a Paper Moon

Prologue AKA The Boy who Saved them

General Moon Knight Fanfic

Ft. Daredevil and Jessica Jones

Tags warnings: Childhood trauma (did you see the picture? You saw the picture, you know it's trauma time!), angst with happy ending, skipable gore (you'll see the trigger warning but don't worry nobody got hurt you'll- you'll see)

Word Count: 1.2k

Chapter Summary: A glimpse of the system's childhood, haunted by a God and a family.

Ao3 link

Chapter 1 will be dropped soon!

Blood-stained candies fell on the ground.

Marc faced the sky, only to see a broken moon, leaking down on earth, all around him.

Its insides were hollow, the crates painted with markers and cheap acrylics making the emptiness of space feel plastic. Fragile like the moon, cracked and exposed for everyone to see the thin cardboard that held everything together, now socked with its intestines.

He closed his eyes, he didn’t want to look at the moon anymore, it was shattered, no one would play with it now. It had no purpose, beyond being destroyed for other’s entertainment. They were now playing over its mutilated guts, accompanied by the sound of plastic wraps scratching the rough surface of the carpet. It felt sticky as dozens of tiny candy bars had been stepped on by children fighting to get the most trophies -trophies that Marc had earned.

But he didn’t care,

he wasn’t there.

He was pushed to the side and attacked by what felt like tiny rocks, meteors falling from the vast depths of space to punish him.

He loved space regardless.

I wonder what it’s like… Being on the moon, looking down on earth, where the city lights of Chicago mix with the faraway stars. Funny, isn’t it? That I feel like I belong more with the stars than with humans… Looking down at myself from the moon, I feel so small. All this pain, my memories, my mistakes, all my worries are unimportant here. Here I am so small that I barely exist -if I exist at all.

And so, he disappeared, floating around, outside of his home, outside of all the judgement, outside of his own body.

He was free.

For now, he was truly free.

He pulled himself closer to the moon, close enough to hear it cry. Something cold was slowly dripping on his forehead from above. It made his bones shiver, as it run down, around his eyes and chicks, so cold he could barely feel them as his own.

He gently placed a hand on his temple, letting his shaking fingertips examine what was poured on him. A silent sob escaped him, making him realize he had been crying all along but still couldn’t make a sound. He then brought his hand in front of his eyes -to make sure his fingers were still attached as the cold had paralyzed them.

TW: Gore

Thank G-d. They were still here, but he could barely make out their silhouettes. One thing was certain, they were painted red. Red that started to blend with his vision, replacing his tears with the moon’s as they kept dropping, nesting for a new home in his eyes. The moon is bleeding down on him stronger than before, he can hear the blood twisting and spilling on him, but he still couldn’t move. He was so lucky to be chosen, to witness such a beautiful spectacle. Blood mixed with cosmic dust of faraway galaxies, now long gone, destroyed by the cruelty of space but still visible from his unimportant planet.

He examined the cosmos above him, he shouldn't, but he did. Inside the moon was a dead bird. Some of its feathers still attached on its rotten flesh so thin now, you could see its skeleton, with hollow eyes and crummy with scabs. It was wounded, an arrow next to its heart, Marc felt it too as the darkness of his glare pierced his very soul.

He couldn’t look away, he wanted but he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. Even when he saw it being consumed by bugs, taking slow bites, feasting on his flesh. It was all so loud. So fucking loud. He heard it all from inside his skull, flies in his ears, worms blocking his airway, choking him, tickling his nostrils as he tried to puke them away from his mouth, only for them to be reborn inside his lungs, crawling to be free.

End of TW

"Marc?"

Mom's voice.

Her face appeared for just a split of a second as shadows of little children blocked his vision again.

"Marc?!"

"Marc!"

Another voice appeared.

Roro?

"Marc, look how many candies I got!

Oh. You didn't get any...

That's ok, we can share, you can take the Mars bar, it's your birthday after all!"

Roro?

Roro placed chocolates and soft candies on Marc's palm. Even though it was still stained with blood. But he didn’t care and closed his brother's fist with his hands and held it with his tiny fingers. Marc looked down at how big his hands were in comparison to his brother’s, reminding him he had grown older without him, he experienced more of the world as his brother stayed the same, trapped inside a memory, a fate he couldn’t escape.

"It's ok… It wasn't your fault."

Roro what are you taking about?

...

..

.

Oh-

I'm dreaming again.

I’m dreaming.

He’s not real he’s-

"Marc! Marc don't go!"

I'm sorry! I'm sorry! ImsorryImsorryImsorry!

"What do you think you're doing?!"

Marc was standing there, in the middle of his living room, surrounded by his classmates, who were laughing and chasing each other for their candies, circling him in the middle, right under the paper moon piñata. He didn't even fully remove the blindfold from his head and kept holding his baseball bat loosely only for it to be dropped when something grabbed his ear and pulled him to the side.

"What do you think you are doing?!"

Roro?

"I didn't spend all that money on you to be ungrateful!"

Roro?

"You looked ridiculous! That's why nobody wants to be your friend."

No. No, this isn’t real. This isn’t real. Mom… Mom could never-

Mum?

What is mum doing?

Did I- do something wrong?

No, no Mom… She-

Mum?

Why is she angry?

Steven no, you didn’t do anything wr-

“Mu…m?” a shaky whisper escaped his mouth, loud enough only they could hear.

“Speak when you are spoken to!”

No! You can’t hurt him! You can’t- I won’t let you! I won’t! I won’t! I won’t!

His cheek was studently throbbing with heat.

Mum? Mum, I think someone-

Shhh… Shhh… It’s ok, you’re ok, we’re ok. We’ll survive, that’s what we do.

Steven?

Shhh…

Let me save us.

Let me save us.

Marc gave in. Mom’s yelling was nothing but a distant noise and eventually nothing at all. He was floating again, but this time he was safe, he was protected from the bleeding bird in the sky, he was still free.

…

..

.

But what happened to the boy who saved him?

What remained of him is now giving a fight. A fight for survival. Not his survival, but a survival non the less.

“Jake Lockley. What do you think you are doing?”

Blood-stained bullets fell on the ground.

Divider by: @cafekitsune

Jake faced the sky, only to see the moon, reflecting on a broken man, leaking his own blood on the concrete. He closed his eyes and tried to think of happy places. A diner, his cab late at night, a lawyer’s office in a cheap apartment building, his friends safe at the bar and him drinking whisky with a girl with terrifying high alcohol tolerance. He would do anything to keep these images real. Well… almost anything but that’s a story for another time.

Comment to be tagged in the next parts!