#like even in the death and the rage and the uncontrollable current

[enterwittyjokehere]

[Angsty Gale won the poll, have fun with his mage hand guys. ;)]

Dread Alter of The Heart

[Gale (of waterdeep) Dekarios x afab reader smut]

[⚠️Warnings⚠️]

[Agrument]

[Mentions of death and being blown up]

[Angry at old man]

[Early act two spoilers!!!]

[Heavy smut 18+ only]

[Teasing]

[Incorrect use of mage hand]

“I am so very sorry, Gale..” The old man's words filled you with a burning rage, a pit that sat in the top of your chest, right next to your heart, and made fiery tears fill your eyes. The dangerous emotion was clear to both of the wizards surrounding you, Gale was more concerned by the sudden uncharacteristic change in your demeanor. 

Gale’s warm hand moved to sit on your shoulder, in an attempt to provide a bit of emotional support and to try and quell your worsening rage. The large hand rubbed at the bone of your shoulder, you only shrugged it off as you took a step closer to Elminster.

Fists balled and face getting redder by the second, you pointed a finger past the old man, “Get out of my camp.” 

You said it as calmly as you could, the anger inside of your chest making you less than rational. A hand firmly grabbed at your wrist, “(y/n), please, Elminster is a dear friend.”

Turning to face Gale, you furrowed your eyebrows, “No, Gale, friends don't randomly show up, eat all your food and then tell you to kill yourself, not good friends at least.”

“As previously stated I am so very sorry, Gale, truly.” You shot the old wizard a glare.

After being reprimanded by Gale once again, you retreated, stomping off to your tent. Letting the flap of fabric, used as the door, fall down, you sat upright on your bedroll, head hung low.

The feelings you held for your party's wizard were so blatant and obvious, the whole team was aware. Hearing what has to come next made you fearful, to say the least. Holding your hands up to your face, your bundle of stressful emotions left through your eyes.

The looming spectre, known as the fear of rejection, had kept you from ever allowing Gale to know your true feelings. Even now as he was going to put the half assed forgiveness from a goddess, who has done nothing but abuse and misuse both him, his trust and his magickal abilities over the life he lives currently and more importantly to you, the one he could live, after this was all over, with you.

Not knowing if he would even accept your love now that his goddess was back in the equation. All the hard work you had put into your delusions of a content life with a sweet wizard husband poured down the drain. Almost left you feeling like you belonged in the sewers of Baldr’s gate.

Reveling in your reminiscent remorse took you out of your surroundings and your tears became sobs. The emotional waves that washed over you felt uncontrollable, almost inconsolable, as though no one could help, the dreaded feeling of losing Gale, all to win the favor of some goddess, left you in hysterics.

Sobbing into your hands, you sniffled and swore under your breath, left startled by a sharp clearing of a throat outside your tent. 

“(Y/n)... Can I speak with you?” Gale muttered, then pausing to wait for your response, your startled demeanor fluctuated, relief poured into you when Gale’s voice was heard and then you remembered that you are almost in no shape to speak to him.

Eyes puffy and nose running, you were aware that your disheveled state was obvious and yet when Gale asked to talk you could never say no. The butterflies started without even having to look at him, knowing right now he was outside your tent waiting to speak with you made you giddy. 

“Sh*t-! Yes, Gale. Just… um- give me a second.” You said, hurriedly, wiping your red tearstained face on the sleeve of your cotton camp clothes. 

Opening the flap of the tent, you stepped out into Gale's view. He frowned for a second, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Have you been crying?” 

You glanced up at him, biting onto your bottom lip in an attempt to quell the next round of tears. Nodding your head slightly, before your attempt to stop your overflowing emotions failed, Gale wrapped an arm around you pulling you into an embrace.

“I should be the one crying, I'll be the one that has to… you know.” He said, laughing slightly, before making a worried face.

You didn't have to see his face to know what he did, he was so predictable in everything, or maybe you just knew him well enough. Sniffling slightly you shook your head, “No. I won't let you. We'll find another way.” 

“I am afraid that's not your place, my friend.” Gale said, pulling away from you.

Your hands rested on his shoulders, gripping tightly onto the sleeve of his shirt, your face wet from tears. You shuttered when his big brown eyes found your own, “...Gale, I'm in love with you.”

The words had slipped out before you could stop them, the tone of your voice was as though that was a reason for him to let you stop him. 

Gale's lips curled into a small smile, yet his eyes were still sad, “I know.” 

His words were gentle and sweet, he wrapped his arms around you again, before speaking once more, “and maybe had I not been cursed with this ‘divine purpose’ we could've had each other.”

More tears pushed over the threshold, your hands attempted to retract from Gale's shoulders. He watched as your lip began to quiver and you backed away, “Or you could've chosen me… instead of a goddess who has done nothing for you.” 

You tried to turn around, away from Gale, but he grabbed your wrist, “Please, you should know I cannot disobey Mystra, she is magick and magick is-”

“Your life?” You finished, knowing where his words would end, “That's what I wanted too.” 

Ripping your hand away from the wizard, you wiped your tears. Turning around, only to have Gale's hands latch onto your wrist holding you firmly in place. His eyes peered into you, pleading for you to listen. Yet the hurt in your heart hid his heart from your eyes, your clouded mind forbade you from taking the wizard as who he truly was.

“(Y/n), please, don't be like this..” Gale called, “I love you too, you make me happier than anyone else, I would love nothing more than to make you mine and allow all of Faerûn that knowledge and yet-”

“Gale, Please, you said quite enough, already.” The belated words hurt more than they should have, Gale's attempt to rekindle a flame he had just extinguished only killed the dying sparks further. 

Gale placed a hand to his chest, his now sad eyes peering into you, “I love you, too, please.” 

You shook your head, “No, if you loved me I would mean more to you than-” 

“Mystra means very little to me-! But if this is the only way to save Faerûn, to save everyone… including you, I have to do it. It's my responsibility…” Gale said, grabbing at the orb that decorated both the inside and outside of his chest, “Please… I love you.” 

“You've said that… Gale-” 

Your words were swiftly cut short as Gale's warm hands found your face, cupping the soft tearstained flesh. He pushed his forehead to your own, “Please, allow me a chance is all I ask…”

You stayed silent, Gale tilted your head slightly and pressed a hot kiss to your forehead. 

His eyes found your own again, “Tonight there is no orb, no absolute just you and me… We can worry about Elminster and Mystra's demand when the need for such an action arises.” 

Your eyes filled with tears once more, you blinked as they rolled down your cheeks. Only to be wiped away by Gale's thumb, “No need for tears, my darling, please.”

You looked up into Gale's eyes, he took the moment to smile down at you before pressing his lips to your own, kissing you properly. Your hand slipped behind his shoulder, holding onto the fabric of his shirt, holding the fabric tightly you pulled Gale off of you.

“If I allow you this-”

“If we find another way to defeat this thing… consider it done, orb and Gale, both still intact.” Gale said, his eyes staring into you.

“And Mystra?”

“What of her?” Gale questioned where you were going with your words.

“I’m sure she won’t be pleased with me taking her sweet little lapdog.”

“Then, she should have considered that before tossing me aside.” Gale spoke, placing a short lived kiss to your lips, “Its as you said, why kill myself to please a Goddess, who has done less for me than the sweet adventurer i’ve grown to know and love.”

“Stop with the flattery and kiss me already, wizard.” You teased, Gale smiled, placing his hands on your hips and doing exactly as you told him. Leaning over to meet you in another kiss, your hands found his shoulders as Gale pulled your body closer. 

The closeness of the two of you made you needy as you would move and tease both of you, small whines trickling from your throat. Gale moved a hand to rest on the inside of your thigh pulling your leg over his hip, you would move occasionally brushing against his growing er*ct*on. The thoughts that ran through his head were less than savory, your free hand tangling in his long hair. While his lips devoured your own, his tongue ravaged the inside of your mouth, searching the cavern thoroughly. 

Gale pulled away from the kiss, panting like a dog, “Gods, we should at least get inside before continuing, if you wish to continue..” His words lingered; they carried insecurity but also curiosity as though he was searching for your consent, eager to know your wishes.

 Perhaps he wondered if you wanted him as much as he wanted you, a small smile found your face, “Oh, please Gale, you’re not getting out of this that easily.”

You backed into the tent, moving against him as soon as he entered, kissing him roughly, once more. Gale’s hands fluttered to your hips, holding you flush to his body, smiling into the embrace.

Inside the tent, Gale placed you down on a large wooden chest. His heavy breathing and lidded eyes made your stomach curl in excitement. 

“Lay down, my precious.” He said, placing a kiss to the back of your hand, “By the gods, you're perfect.”

His words were expelled in a groan as you followed his instructions, laying back in the cold wood of the chest. Gale's steady hands began disrobing you, he unbuttoned and pulled off your trousers. 

Before he started on your undergarments he licked the pad of his thumb, pushing it to your clothed core. You squirmed at the action, pulling a small chuckle from the wizard's lips, “Patience, I will not keep you waiting long.” 

He pulled away from you, and began slipping out of his robe, then he hastily unbuttoned his own trousers. Discarding both of the garments onto the floor of your tent, he smiled down at you palming the growing tent in his purple underwear.

You pushed onto your elbows watching him, licking your lips as your eyes traced over his crotch. Gale moved closer to you, his hands enveloping your clothed chest, playing with the soft flesh, “Your turn.” 

His simper was ravenous, like he could devour you whole. He moved closer, kneeling onto the chest, his body hanging over your own. 

The closer Gale got to you the worse your craving for him panged in your aching core. It didn't help that when he pressed a long cascading kiss to your lips, his knee pressed into your lower body, rubbing your warm core. Gale would pull away and come right back into the kiss, igniting a passionate fire beneath him.

Each time the wizard would pull away from your embrace, muttering your praises, only to reignite the kiss. His hand pumping around his hard c**k, groaning into the kiss, “G-Gale, please…”

His lidded eyes opened, staring down at you, nodding slightly before he pulled away. Gale quickly slipped off the briefs, kneeling down at the edge of the chest, he took a finger slipping off your underwear. The wizard's free hand cast mage hand, a spell resulting in a small ghostly hand to appear, with a flick of his free hand the mage hand slipped over your chest. Playing with your nipples, the blue hand teased your hardening bud.

Gale smiled at the sounds the spell elicited, moving his free hand to hold down one of your legs, while spreading your lower lips open. Your attempt at keeping your eyes on Gale failed as he moved into your core, suckling sweetly on the aching bud in your lower body. 

The more ragged and feral your moans for him became the quicker his hand at the base of his own pleasure moved. He mumbled and moaned into your core as you rocked your hips against his face, in an attempt to secure more pleasure for yourself.

“You're more than I could ever need, don't you ever forget that.” Gale moaned out, his tongue assaulting your sensitive c*nt.

“Yeah and that's why you're going to find another way, right?”

“Whatever you ask of me.” He said, before standing up to fully penetrate your lower body.

Your hands found his forearms, while Gale's hands settled on the dips of your hips, you moaned out before biting your lip to quell your noises.

“Let's make this quick, yeah?” Gale said as he rocked in and out of you, “I don't think I can last much longer.”

The friction between the two of you was ecstatic, the building knot in your lower stomach pleaded to be broken. The blue hand Gale had summoned, moved down to where your bodies met, rubbing the abused bundle of nerves Gale had previously been sucking on.

With a jolt of your hips your climax hit, Gale almost immediately succumb to the warmth squeezing feeling of you tensing around him. Sloppily thrusting in, he chased the high while you squirmed beneath him, overstimulation threatened to ruin your moment.

“I hope we didn't wake the others.” You spoke your voice shaky.

Gale looked up at you, kissing you gently, “To the hells with them.”

[arlemangel7]

Random thought

Cw: nsfw-ish, mention of death, mention of child death, blame for death, bad day, comfort

Kiri and Bakugou were having a particularly rage enducing day the kind that is only cured by the gym or good messy aggressive sex and they worked together today so they got to go home together, once they were in the house they couldn't keep their hands to themselves biting clawing and even pinning each other all over there bodies and the house they made it down the hallway leading to your shared bedroom when they heard the front door shut, they were almost too preoccupied with their current situation to hear your lite sniffles, ALMOST. That sound made them both pull back and listen to confirm they are hearing what they heard once your full sobs met their ears they passed a look between them and started towards you.

Your pov.

You walk in to the house eyes glassy kicking off your shoes mind busy with the events that occurred today, it could've been a worst day you say to yourself trying to stave off the tears but your aching heart would disagree. The recounting began as you dragged yourself further into your house sniffling as a last stitch effort to evade the streams from falling over the edge but after seeing the face of the angry mother who had blamed you for the lost her baby you couldn't hold back any longer and just crumbled on the floor and cried. Loud and uncontrolled sobs filled room you only realize your being held because you smell kiri's conditioner.

They were the only people to sooth you in this moment, while kiri held you kats soothed you with his voice saying things like "follow eji's breathing", "that's it, in and out. Nice slow deep breaths" this works and ever so slowly you start to calm down eventually this works and they hold you in between them until you are ready to talk about your day.

[diabolicallittledemi]

“Where the anger of the skies and hells collide, the doom of fate is a human's demise.

The maw of a beast opened wide, uncontrolled rage darkens the sky,

When lightning befalls, death screams its call.

For this is the end as we know it, the bond that will kill us all.”

.

.

.

So OUABKDK (Once Upon A BakuDeku, a joke name that stuck because it's fucking funny and neither of us have brought it up since the doc was titled) was originally made as a self-insert crack fic that @yippaydippay made about us for shits and gigs but it VERY quickly became a shared hyperfixation for us and now it has nearly 200k words and more finished art pieces behind it than any other hyperfixations of mine have combined. Low-key insane.

The basic premise is this: Skipp Babin and Remi Suazo are two high schoolers from the US who are one day isekai-ed into the world of MHA right as class 1-A begins their first year at UA. Literally they are dropped onto UA ground and found by Aizawa and his students, promptly taken into custody, and interrogated. How did you get in? Why are you here? Who do you work for? And to this, they don't have any answers.

They're investigated behind their backs. Turns out as they were transported into this world, so were legal docs? They own a house (the American dream), have some money, are both 15 on paper (hell on earth to suddenly be 15 again after surviving a year like that, and almost at the finish line of childhood at the ripe of 17) have no legal or recorded guardians, and no citizenship in ANY country to their name. Essentially, there's nothing, not even knowledge if they have quirks or not.

They are kept under watch until they eventually are released to their house... and the story begins!

They have dormant quirks, as it turns out, which are both awoken in drugged up fever dreams by quirk specialists at a doctor; Skipp can turn into a dragon (fucking awesome) and Remi can turn electricity into weapons (or whatever they can think of, but a sword is sick, so really, they'll stick with that).

The two don't initially take all of this seriously and, well, that causes issues. Because how much can you fuck around before you REALLY find out? The timeline is changed, you draw the attention of people you shouldn't, and suddenly you've got a mess the size of an angry dragon on your hands. Oops.

I love OUABKDK so much and I'm currently waiting for yippay to type up the next update so I can read it and then pass out while daydreaming about it. (No joke. I'm typing this out because I'm bored while waiting.)

[erii-ya]

‘If it’s you….’ Part 2

Killer x FemReader

Part 1

Content Warning: Violence, mentions of blood, bloodshed, death, void of emotions, killing

WC: 1,149

A/N: One Piece is the beautiful creation of the genius Eiichiro Oda-sensei. It has heavy *spoilers* for the Wano Arc since the context revolves around Udon Prison. Please remember that the flow of the story is just a fantasy in my head, and English is not my mother tongue.

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

Hitokiri Kamazo, a criminal who worked under Orochi, assassinates people the Shogun deems punishable. His wanted posters were everywhere, especially at the Flower Capital. People were made aware to take extra caution at night when he’s lurking around any corner—a ruthless killer who finds joy in bloodshed. At least, that’s what the rumors said. Little did you know that the criminal would turn out to be someone you know. A person dear to you. Your thing of obsession.

Killer wails while laughing hysterically. He didn’t answer Kid, but tears streamed down his face uncontrollably. You’re even sure you saw him peek in your direction, but it happened too fast you couldn’t catch his gaze.

“What?! He’s the guy with the mask that was always with Jaggy?!” Luffy exclaimed. Oh yeah, you’re with your captain. You got so invested in what’s happening that you forgot your current situation.

Old man Hyogoro moved closer to you and Luffy, “You know him?” he asked no one in particular. Without skipping a beat, you said, “Yeah.” glancing over to the old man. “As you may already know, the redhead is also a captain of another pirate crew like Luffy, and the blonde guy…” musing back to Killer, “is his vice-captain.” You choked a bit on the last part. It felt like your throat ran dry. To be honest, a looming headache grows by the minute the longer you watch. You’re too confused, in rage, and keeping these intense emotions at bay is torturing you. It makes you wonder how you can still stay calm and collected when all the fibers in your body are screaming murder.

“Jaggy possibly tried to save him and their crew,” Luffy concluded. ‘Well, obviously.’

Eustass Kid may be known as a vicious pirate, but he’s a compassionate captain to his crew. Not that you’ll see it in public, but you’re one of those people who knew, if not the only one. Kid will do anything to protect his people, especially since his crew was with him in his highs and lows.

Hyogoro shakes his head sympathetically. “How cruel.” he started. “He was forced to eat the SMILE fruit that takes away one’s emotions. Only to be given a mask of laughter that can never be taken off.”

After hearing that, you swiftly turn towards him. “…the hell do you mean?! What – What Smile fruit?! What is this ‘being devoid of emotion’ thing about?! Explain!!” With an intent look in your eyes, you literally growled at the old man.

A sudden silence filled the air, and you weren’t even aware. Everyone in the area who heard your outburst is now looking in your direction. Your reaction made the old man so taken aback that he was speechless. Probably because he wasn’t expecting you to react that way. You grab onto his shoulder, practically shaking him too hard while you insist he answer you. Even Eustass Kid and Killer, who made a scene a while ago, focused their eyes on your direction.

Standing tall in front of your group, Queen decided to intervene and answer you instead. “Let me do the honors for you, boy.” smiling devilishly. “SMILEs are artificially made devil fruits. It intends to grant the consumer the power of animal transformation, much like a Zoan-type Devil Fruit.”

‘Artificially made devil fruit? That was possible?’ you thought.

Still, he continued, “However, the success rate of achieving the desired outcome of gaining animal powers after consuming SMILE is only 10%, thus considering those who successfully did as ‘Gifters.’ The other 90% who ate a dud…” Queen points at Killer as though to make his point.

“I mean, it’s not that bad, yeah? He may not gain any powers, but he gained an everlasting HAPPINESS!” as if to add salt to injury, roaring with mocking laughter.

All the other beast pirates guffawed at the remark.

You remembered what you saw on the light-scroll snail earlier about the citizens who laughed at the person who was executed. “So you mean to say those people laughing at the dead earlier was…” you spoke, waiting for him to say the obvious.

“Uh-huh, they ate a dud, too. Orochi probably did it; how he did it is beyond me, as if I care.” It wasn’t apparent before, so you thought poorly about the citizens, who also turned out to be victims.

Now it’s all clear...

....and that was your last straw.

Forcing people to eat a defective devil fruit, voiding them with emotions but constant joy, and capturing innocent people for them to do hard labor in this prison. You thought you already saw the unthinkable.

In Punk Hazard~

In Dressrosa~

But it seems evil exists in any other country. Not only is it constant, but the level of evil only escalates from one country to another. The longer you and your crew journeyed, the more you realized how revolting the world is.

You had your share of a dark past, and your soul may be frying up good in hell, but at least you don’t pretend to be good.

The emotions you struggled to constrain are now raging more than ever.

Hands shaking, you clenched your fists.

Resisting is futile, and you know that.

Now, all you see is red, and you’re already raring to go.

You took a deep breath, exhaled sharply, and then snorted, followed by a boisterous laugh. You laughed so hard you’re tearing while clenching your tummy. Queen and his men were stunned at your action.

On the other hand, Luffy…

“No good. No good. No good.” He hurriedly reached out to grab you, "Y/N!!" but it was too late.

Your right fist jabbed Queen’s stomach, sending him flying to the other end of the arena, dragging some of his men who were caught on impact. The next thing happened after another, and most of the beast pirates went down one by one.

Blood splattered all over the place as you go on a rampage. Blinded by rage, you walk the path of destruction. With everything you’ve learned and heard, you let your emotions get the best of you.

Luckily, Luffy quickly evacuated the prisoners. He was wary that this might happen after you discover Kamazo's true identity and what had happened to him.

In fact, he felt the same way as you, though not as intense to the point of killing. But that was a part of who you are that Luffy accepted with open arms. Your captain is not one to judge people; he also knows how deeply you care about Killer.

In reality, it’s not only because you care about him but because your deep affection towards the man becomes an obsession.

No one messes with your Milý and gets away with it.

Alive.

You swear, in the name of all things holy and on your damned soul, you’ll make sure to sweep this place clean.

Colored in red.

Continued in Part 3...

[chaoticxbeast]

// TW nightmares, Kraang, character death etc.

“Hey big bro. Check this out.” 

Leo stood in the middle of the living room, grinning at Raph with this knowing, mischievous look in his eye. He was playing with the mystic key, throwing and flipping it in his hand. 

“I know how to break the key.” 

“Okay? How?” Raph felt a little tug on his shell and got distracted by the familiar sensation of a trembling slip-and-grip movement on his back, the faint scent of spray paint, and little breathing noises. Mikey. “Watcha doin?” Mikey said in a singsongy tone and peeked at Leo curiously.

“Leo says he knows how to break the key.” Raph pressed a finger to his chin, deep in thought.

“Ohh.... but April and Dad tried everything.” Mikey rested his head on Raph’s, pouting and squinting his eyes with the same skepticism.

“Not everything,” Leo winked at them and wrapped his fingers around the hilt of his sword, pulling it out from its sheath with a loud metallic shring. “Watch.” The air around them buzzed with intense static when Leo swung his sword. Raph didn’t like that feeling. Something was always off with those portals. 

The static settled in the air for a second before it compressed with a sudden swoosh, and a portal opened up, washing the room in a brilliant blue light. 

“They haven’t tried portal-chopping it, have they? Didn’t think so.” Leo had a little playful bounce in his step as he approached the portal, and grinned as he held the key halfway through. “Ready?” 

Mikey gasped at the idea, holding onto Raph’s neck, nearly vibrating from excitement. “I hope it explodes!” Mikey gave a little laugh and squeezed his arms around Raph’s neck. “Right? BOOM.”

“What? No! That would be dangerous.” Raph’s brows furrowed, and he rested his hands on Mikey’s arms, as they seemed to squeeze tighter and tighter. “It’s okay, Mikey..relax. You’re..holding on too tight. ”How did his brother suddenly get so strong? Raph gently tapped Mikey’s arms, trying to get him to stop squeezing so hard. “..mikey..”   

Leo’s grin seemed to freeze in place as he stared at his brothers. Raph frowned as an unsettled feeling began to spread in his gut. Leo’s smile widened into this odd, wild grin, sending icy shudders down Raph´s shell. He’d never seen Leo smiling in such a way before. As if he was void of compassion and filled with this…dark, cruel joy. Leo closed the portal with a swift move, never breaking eye contact. He didn’t even pay attention to his own fingers, his own hand. As if he didn’t care. The moment froze. The mystic key split in two with a loud chnk!, Everything held still for what seemed like minutes.

Then, a raging blast of golden energy surged toward them, mercilessly pummeling their bodies like a thundering river. Raph felt his skin burning and aching, just like it did when he was an anchor for Mikey, back when they opened a portal to the prison dimension just weeks ago. Raph held on. This was the same feeling. Same energy. The energy rushing out from the key was just like Mikey's ninpō. 

Then, the energetic forces changed direction and began shooting into Mikey, like a wild and ancient spirit finally finding its rightful host. Like two magnets clashing together. 

“No!!” Raph could feel how Mikey struggled to fight against the wild unbridled currents of mystic power. He could sense Mikey giving in, growing weaker, as if his body could not harbor the wild, uncontrolled forces. "Mikey..." 

Raph tried to control his sobs as he scanned the room for Leo. There..he was..or..was that Leo? He looked so uncharacteristic in the way he held himself, the way he bowed his head somberly, in the raging currents of energy. His mask-ends whipping around his head as he clutches his injured arm against his plastron. Blood was oozing from his hand and..Had he lost his fingers? Raph couldn’t tell. "Leo..are you okay?" No response.

Mikey's grip grew weaker, and he began slipping off Raph’s back. His body fell to the floor in a pile of arms and legs, and Raph turned around to gather Mikey up into his arms. He felt oddly light. Oddly empty. "Noo.." Raph sobbed as Mikey’s head dropped forward.

“Leo! Come quick. It’s Mikey..” Raph carefully cupped his brother's head in the palm of his hand. Then it began. Bright choppy streaks of light began to shoot across Mikey’s skin, and pieces of him slowly lifted up, light like little spores of a plant. It was as if his baby brother was whisked away into nothingness.

“No no no no no....” Raph trembled and tensed his arms in agony and let out a heart-wrenching cry as his brother disappeared from his arms. Sobbing and staring down at his hands in deep shock, he saw Leo’s feet come dragging to a stop beside him.

Raph looked up at Leo, and tried to blink away his tears to clear his blurry vision. He stared right at the face of a monster. Wide, yellow, piercing eyes. Void of emotion. 

“Raph! Wake up…” Raph trembled awake and sat up in his bed. “Easy Raph..You were dreaming.” The first thing he saw was Mikey. He was falling apart from worry, staring at him with wide eyes. His brother was sitting on the floor next to his bed, with his hands resting on the edge of the mattress. Right behind him was Don, as if on guard. 

Don quirked a brow and looked concerned, yet wary, as if he had been ready to protect Mike if anything happened. Raph was grateful for instinct in Donnie, proud, even. Relieved, Raph gave a long deep sigh. This was not a dream.

“I’m okay..just a bad dream. “ The snapper rubbed his eyes, his hand instantly going for his bandaged eye, which was still healing and itching.

“DON’T…touch that.” Don swatted Raph’s hand away. He fetched a thermometer from his pocket, holding it against Raph’s forehead, and it gave three stern beeps, dooming Raph to a fever of 104°F. 

“Tsk tsk. You got a fever, young man. No wonder you have bad dreams. Fever dreams can be pretty scary.”

Raph looked up at Donnie and back to Mikey, and paused as if he was about to say something important. “Can I just..can I have a hug?” 

Mikey’s face scrunched up as if he overflowed with emotions, and he scrambled forward to hug Raph, wrapping his arm around his sick brother. “Offcurse!!!”

“Ah boy..” Donnie said with a resigned sigh, placing the thermometer back into the pocket on his belt.. “Guess that means me too.” 

“Donnie. Hug. Now.” Mikey ordered. Raph buried his face on Mikey’s shoulder, and Donnie gritted his jaw as he leaned forward while turning away, reluctantly reaching around the two as if trying to hug a poisonous cactus. “Oh no. There, there.” 

“Hug properly!” Mikey huffed.

“I am hugging properly,” Donnie replied flatly.

Raph wrapped both his bandaged arms around them and squeezed, and Donnie had no choice but to resign to his fate—the hug of doom.

“What’s going ooon?” Leo suddenly said. He was holding on to the handrail by Raph’s bed, leaning forward toward them with a hand on his waist. “Is Raph okay?” 

“Help...” Donnie wheezed, sounding like he was about to perish from the crushing hold of his big, traumatized older brother.

“Just a bad dream.” Mikey’s voice was reduced to a low, barely audible rasp. He nearly couldn’t breathe, but he didn’t seem bothered about little details! At least they were hugging.

With wide, anxious eyes, Raph lifted his head from Mikey’s shoulder and peeked at Leo. That was Leo..right? 

Leo frowned in concern at the look and canted his head curiously. Those Kraang really got under Raph’s skin... “Hey..Raph, buddy. Was it the Kraang?” 

“Maybe..” Raph hesitated. How did Leo know?

Leo sighed and made his way over. “Hokay let me in on the hug, big bro. Sides, you’re kinda strangling the others.“

“Oh!” Raph let go, and Donnie gasped for air and rolled out of the way. “THANK you.”  

Mikey dropped on his side, coughing and catching his breath, before bouncing back up, unharmed. “You’re pretty strong for a sick guy, Raph. That’s good, right Donnie?” 

“Sure is. Hokay, let me get some pills for the fever, I’ll be back..“ Donnie got up and left, and Leo sat on the bed, looking right at Raph while his lips pursed thoughtfully. He then glanced at Mikey and smiled, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Hey Mikey. I bet he wants a nice cool, wet cloth for his head. Maybe some water to drink?” 

“On it! ”Mikey hopped up to his feet and bounded off. 

Leo’s eyes panned to Raph, and he smiled, crossing his legs. “You okay?” 

Raph trembled from the fever, his eyes darting around Leo’s face, looking for signs of anything unusual. “I..I’m..Okay..I feel..okay..” Raph laid his head back and frowned, breathing a bit labored. Gratitude washed over him, and he thought he would cry from relief. “Thank god..I-”

“You dreamt he dieeed?” Leo drawled.

“Yeah, how did you know?” 

“I was there.” 

“Huh?” 

Raph furrows his brows and looks at Leo. Anxiety and dread built in his chest like a heavy ball of sand and tar, thick and clinging to his every breath. “That ain’t funny Leo..” 

With a sudden roaring noise, tentacles burst forth from Leo’s face, sending Raph scrambling awake with a loud cry. This time on the couch, with his phone on his chest.

[jknerd]

DISNEY STUDIO AU OC: Bliss Wings

Full Name: Bliss Wings

Other Names: Aunt Bliss, Mrs. Wings

Schools: Acme Middle School (graduated), S. Symphony High School (graduated)

Occuaption(s): Rapper-Dancer of Wings’ Wink (retired), songwriter (retired), High School Teacher (quitted), Spoonerville Matriarch Committee (co-leader; with Peg), Vocal coach

Residence: Spoonerville, Ohio

Family: Glory Wings-Goof (younger sister), Jolly Wings (younger sister), George G “Goofy” Goof (brother-in-law), Debbie (daughter), George Jr Goof (nephew), Maxine Goof (niece), Gloria Goof (great niece)

Relationships: George G “Goofy” Goof (childhood crush->friend->brother-in-law), Peg Pete (friend), Duke (daughter’s boyfriend-> future son-in-law), Morgan Rodence (student), Roscoe (old flame->???)

Likes: Singing, dancing, writing, spending time with her daughter, bonding with her niece Maxine

Dislikes: Duke (formerly), Pete’s snarky remarks, Goofy’s clumsiness endangering himself and others

Abilities/Talents: Smooth but low-tone rapping skills, complexed choreography, singing talent, superhuman strength

Bliss Wings was a rapper and dancer of Wings’ Wink consisted with and her two younger sisters, Glory B and Jolly. Sister-in-law of Goofy, aunt of George Jr and Maxine, and Debbie’s mother. She was a high school teacher for the subject of music and drama class until she quit during Maxine’s college years. Also, along with her friend Peg Pete, she is a co-leader of Spoonerville Matriarch Committee; a group of mothers in Spoonerville working on social services. Currently, she has become a vocal coach. One of the running gags is that when she endures her anger with sweet smile, the “Inner Bliss” shows up in her mind expressing immense rage. The other running gag is whenever she hugs Jr and Maxine, they were suffocated.

With her two younger sisters, they formed a girl band “Wings’ Wink” and received a status as both rapper and singer. Being the oldest of the group, she carried great burden of responsibilities in the band group AND sisters. As a child, she had a crush on Goofy as she found his laughter adorable, but they remain as friends throughout the years. In teen years, she already had her body developed more than other girls—bigger bust and hips—and because of this during her active years as girl band member, a lot of gossips of public or tabloids deemed her “promiscuous”, “plastic surgery addict”, or “gold digger”. Bliss have buried all anger from stress, maintaining her behavior as sweet, feminine and proper young lady despite her rapping skills. Years later, when she heard of her sister Glory B being pregnant with Goofy’s child, Bliss lost her temper and, in uncontrollable rage, she chased Goofy around holding a gold putter, scaring Pete and other friends of Goofy. When Glory B became a housewife retiring from her musical career, Bliss Wings worked as a songwriter and solo musician for OSTs of several films and series. At some points, she had a relationships with few actors and one of them whom she dated longer than others was starring as one of the antagonists in a film “Oliver Twist in NYC” as she even starred as guest star, but for some reasons, they split up. When George Jr was little, Bliss got pregnant with a child and eventually gave birth to a daughter, Debbie and raised her by herself. However, she heard her sister Glory B’s death after Maxine’s birthday and attended her funeral. When the paparazzis and journalist barged in during the funeral, Bliss lost her temper once again and brutally assaulted them for insulting her sister. While this caused her to quit her career from musical industry, she was introduced to new job by Peg as music teacher in high school.

Becoming a mother figure to Jr and Maxine every time she visits, Bliss would pamper them with her large amount of cooking and presents. As years went by, her daughter Debbie has grown and she would visit in behalf of her mother. Finally reaching her youngest sister Jolly, Bliss explained to her of what happened to Glory and asked why she did not attend her funeral. Jolly, in frustration, admitted that she has feelings for Goofy and finds Glory B’s marriage to him as betrayal and an insult. Bliss confessed she used to have feelings for him when younger but she is satisfied with the friendship and becoming a mother of her child. Jolly belittled her for that as she consider that as another betrayal and that she will be rotting away while putting up with teenage daughter’s whims as no man will ever want her. Hurt and angered, Bliss warned her that someday she will lose what is important to her and never met Jolly again. Later, when she heard of her daughter having a boyfriend she was anticipated to meet him. However, when it was revealed to be Duke, a former leader of teenage gang “The Pharaohs” who had bullied Maxine and Jr, Bliss told her daughter to break up with “a teenage criminal” and refused to acknowledge him. She still refused to believe that Duke is a changed man and said she will change her mind if he won’t cause another trouble to people and get a safe job to make Debbie happy. 

During Maxine’s life in college, Bliss decided to visit her and encountered Sylvia, Goofy’s girlfriend. While the news surprised her, she was relieved that Goofy has found someone to love. Later, she has become more amused and excited of Maxine’s love life as she met Rox and Bradley. Bliss then expressed concern when she heard of Maxine’s talent manager was Jolly. Later, it is revealed that Jolly has been giving Maxine’s informations to the Beagle Boys, the hip-hop-rap-pop group who was envious of Maxine’s growing popularity. As she tried to warn Maxine about Jolly, Maxine assured she will take care of things on her own and told her to never tell anything to Goofy. At the day of receiving award, Maxine heard from the Beagle Boys about Jolly selling her private informations to help them expose it, Maxine surprised them (even Bliss) that she actually knew because she asked Bradley to spy on Jolly and the Beagle Boys. When Maxine calmly and maturely said while she won’t let anything distract her from her life, she understood just because she had relatives it doesn’t mean they would love her so she decided to stop call Jolly as “aunt”, forcing her to realize what Bliss meant of “losing what is important”. Although Bliss had renounced her youngest sister years ago, it was uncomfortable for her to watch Maxine behaving in a business-thinking attitude towards remorseful Jolly. At one point, Bliss—had enough of male teachers and principal’s verbally sexual harassment—slapped her resigning paper across the perverted principal’s face and quit her job as music teacher. While working as co-leader of Spoonerville Matriarch Committees alongside Peg, she worked as vocal coach for singers-in-training.

Unbeknownst to her, while Debbie worked in House of Mouse to help Maxine she met one of her mother’s old flames, Roscoe. Sensing the similarities Debbie had with Bliss, he immediately recognized her and approached to know about her mother’s whereabouts as he felt strange parental fondness towards Debbie. When Maxine and Debbie brought Bliss in House of Mouse during Valentine’s Day special, she was shocked to see him as she was unsure how to handle the situation. 

[inkandember]

Ash-Born

(a short fantasy story by Ink & Ember)

He hadn’t planned to stay. That was the first mistake.

The village didn’t have a name worth remembering. A few narrow paths, a crooked well, and a roofless chapel stitched into the roots of a ridge. It wasn’t on any maps. That’s what made it safe for a while.

He’d been there three nights. Slept in a barn. Worked with his hands. Didn’t speak unless spoken to. Paid for quiet with quiet. He hadn’t cast since the river. Six days now. Not even a spark to keep the cold off. But holding it in had grown harder with every hour. It bled out of him, subtle, but there.

It affected the world around him, twisted the mana in the air. Animals kept their distance. Shadows moved when they shouldn’t. Fires flickered uncontrollably, like they couldn’t decide if they wanted to burn or not. He told himself he’d be okay. That it was fine. Once he rested, he’d have control again.

He sat leaning against a cobbled wall, out of sight and some distance from the people of the village. With eyes half-closed, he took whatever rest he could while keeping vigilant, or as vigilant as possible. How many days had it been since I last slept? he wondered.

The wind shifted suddenly, carrying with it a strange warmth and an acrid stench. Woodsmoke not the kind that came from cooking or resting. This was too dry. Too hot.

What’s going on? he thought as he rose to his feet. As his head cleared the wall he’d been resting against, he saw it. The village, once quiet, green, and still, was now ablaze. It looked soaked in lava-light, the peaceful warmth turned to something violent and red.

He heard screaming in the distance. Faint, but real. He doesn’t remember deciding to run. It was the screaming, he thinks. He couldn’t turn his back on that. He had to do something. So he took off toward the village as fast as his body would let him.

He hadn’t been far from the village when he stopped to rest, so it didn’t take long to get back, but what he saw would be carved into him for the rest of his life. It was a massacre. Bodies lay scattered across the ground.

He saw the old man who’d helped him to his feet when he’d first arrived, the one who offered him water, no questions asked. Now he lay still, eyes open, chest torn wide by something that hadn’t been made by blade or beast.

Magic, he thought. It was magic that did this. He heard voices in the distance and moved toward them, cautious, each step dragging. He couldn’t look away. So much death, and for what? These people had been kind. They’d helped him. Left him be. They were just trying to live.

Then he saw it.

A small mound, half-buried in dust and ash. He froze. A sick weight dragged through his spine. No he thought. He dropped to his knees and turned the little body over.

It was the girl.

The one who had offered him a flower when she found him resting beneath the tree. Just a few days ago. She had smiled like he was something soft and safe. Now her eyes were closed, and her hand was empty. Something broke inside him.

The voices sounded again closer now. The heat from the fires, the crackle of magic in the air, the stench of blood and burning flesh it all pressed down on him like a storm raging behind his eyes.

He stood, slow and silent. His body ached with every movement, but it didn’t matter anymore. Something had shifted the exhaustion, the fear, even the restraint it all fell away, hollow and useless. All that remained was the choice in front of him.

He walked purposefully toward the voices, no longer hiding. The fire roared, but he could hear them, their words carried to him on the current of magic that hung thick in the air.

“The freak should be here. It’s where they told us to go,” one voice muttered.

A second, a woman replied flatly, “We just have to make sure no survivors remain. Just in case.”

Then she laughed, short, sharp, and joyless. The kind of sound that didn’t come from amusement, but from certainty. Through the haze of smoke and shifting flame, he saw them clearly now, three figures, their silhouettes framed by fire.

One held a wand, sharp and lacquered like a noble’s toy. Another leaned on a staff etched with cruel geometry, its tip glowing sickly blue. The third rested a long, curved blade across one shoulder, the steel humming with bound enchantments.

They stood before a crumbling home, someone’s home, whispering something he couldn’t hear. Then they raised their focuses in unison.

The house shuddered. The walls collapsed inward with a thundercrack of magic, burying the structure in dust and screams. He heard them, the ones inside, calling for help.

But before he could move, before he could even think, the one with the sword strode forward and plunged their blade through the wreckage. One by one. No hesitation. No mercy.

By the time he reached the edge of the road, they were already dead. The sword mage turned slightly, catching sight of him at last. The woman with the staff noticed the shift in his posture, followed his gaze, and saw him too.

“There he is,” she said with a cruel smile. “You made us get our hands dirty.”

Her words meant nothing. After seeing the kind little girl, something in him felt strangely hollow, and yet the rage still surged beneath that emptiness, bubbling up like it had nowhere left to go.

He exhaled softly, long and slow, trying to tame it. Trying to hold it back one last time. But it was too late. The little girl’s smile played in his mind once more.

I know I need answers… but not from them, he thought. Not from heartless, cruel fanatics like this. He was done running. Done hiding ,if this was the outcome.

Innocent lives, destroyed, simply because he chose to rest here. They chose this path. I’ll walk them to the end of it. His control had been fraying for days,and now, he let it snap.

Magic flooded through him like floodwaters through shattered stone. It wasn’t rage that guided it, but clarity. Precision. He wanted them to feel it, to understand what it meant to be powerless in the face of something they couldn’t bind, couldn't leash, couldn’t even name.

The wind died. The ground split in slow, deliberate fractures beneath his feet.

The one with the wand raised it instinctively, but the spell backfired, ripping through their own arm in a flash of screaming light. They fell, clutching a limb that no longer obeyed them.

The sword mage charged, reckless, confident, but shadows clung to their feet, thick and alive, until they couldn’t move. The ground beneath them softened, then swallowed them whole without a sound.

Only the woman remained. She turned to run. He didn’t let her. The air around her thickened, not just with force, but with intent. Light bent. Sound vanished. Time itself seemed to hesitate.

Then her eyes met his. Something in him reached out, something deeper than spellwork, older than focus magic, and touched her mind.

In a blink, she was somewhere else.

The sky above her was split with cracks of burning starlight. The earth pulsed like it was breathing. The village lay in ruins around her, not as it was, but as she had made it. She saw the child standing before her, offering a flower, one that dripped with blood.

Then came a fear that wasn’t hers. An old man’s face. And many, many more ,ones she barely remembered, blurred behind flames and screams.

She screamed as their fear consumed her, their final moments becoming her prison. Only now, she felt every drop of pain she had inflicted.

She dropped, unconscious before she hit the ground. He stood in the silence that followed, the weight of what he’d done settling slowly over his shoulders.

His knees gave out as the last of the magic slipped from his body. He hit the ground hard, hands buried in scorched earth, lungs scraping for breath that wouldn’t come easy.

He didn’t understand what he’d just done not fully. The magic had moved on its own, deeper and stranger than anything he’d ever touched.

He sat there, the smoke curling past him, unsure if he’d stopped something… or started it.

I write stories stitched from starlight & sorrow — follow if you’d like to read more.

[fablesuntold]

Seven years was a long time to serve in prison. But had it been worth every second to rid the world of one evil? Ji-yeong didn’t regret a second of what she’d done— revenge for both her and her mother, long overdue. Driving that knife into her father’s chest again and again after finding him looming over her mother’s lifeless body in the kitchen, an uncontrollable rage took over Ji-yeong. It was one thing to be subjected to years of abuse at his hands, but this? It had been the last straw. Before she knew it, she’d grabbed a blade of her own and stabbed and stabbed until she was left shaking on the ground next to his dying self, covered in dark scarlet red stains with only the man’s last dying gasps for comfort— no doubt begging to his God for forgiveness, or for her to stop. But had he stopped when she’d begged him to..? No.

It hadn’t taken long for the police to show up at her door and apprehend her with cuffs that seemed a little too big for her bony wrists. It was all a blur.

She’d drove that knife into his chest.. fifty something times? That’s what the uptight judge had concluded during her trial anyway. Who even cared? Ji-yeong sure didn’t. She just didn’t have it in her to feel upset or scared of anything anymore— numb to the world and even more numb to whatever horrors this new place she’d found herself in had to offer. She did have to admit though, when the recruiter had came to visit her in prison with offer at the ready for a ‘shot at a second chance’ this hadn’t at all been what she expected.

Still, she traversed each game like she had her time behind bars; unbothered. So what if she died? It wasn’t like she had anything left to live for on the outside anyway.

Eyeing the bold white numbers reading ‘067’ on her new companions jacket in front of her as they waited for the next game together, Ji-yeong zoned in on the loose piece of lint hanging from the back of it. Unable to resist, she sneakily reached forward to yank it off— though, apparently she wasn’t sneaky enough when the woman’s gruff tone told her to ‘knock it off.’ A curt scolding that had a childish pout forming on full lips. Rude. “This place isn’t the first time I’ve witnessed death, y’know~?” Spoken in thought as lithe fingers now toyed with the stolen string to prevent herself from fidgeting— a habit she’d picked up due to years living with nerves on edge under her father’s roof. “It’s kinda funny, actually.”

Funny. Not many people in their right mind would describe their current situation as such, but Ji-yeong? She couldn’t help but to find the humour in her own constant bad luck.

[movedtoacolorlessworld]

Emotions

the asteroid mentioned here is supposed to be forgotten asteroid btw

———

I never felt such emotions before.

Well, I don't recall feeling such emotions before.

But here I am now; eyes wide, body frozen in time, a droplet of sweat rolling down my face.

This isn't a revelation I like.

The government is indeed not the best here in Reboot Ruins. I've heard of such things from Restricted Access and Cybernetic Vampire. But I didn't think they would be this bad.

They were never satisfied by how things go within this country. They weren't satisfied with the current state of the nation at that time, so they knew what they had to do.

They connected all of us to the virtual internet—our lives were in the hands of how the connection will go. If the internet connection in Reboot Ruins goes awry, then we might as well get sick.

But if it gets cut out even for just a little bit?

We're dead.

Thankfully, a few of us survived, but that doesn't change the fact that it already happened.

They also wanted their citizens themselves to be more advanced, so they just knew that replacing their clearly normally functioning body parts with prosthetics would be a great idea.

Pathetic.

I can't believe any of this.

I refuse to believe any of this bullshit.

What they did...

What they did took away my friends.

What they did took away my ability to remember.

What they did took away my ability to feel.

What they did took away my memories.

What they did took away Asteroid.

What they did made all of us suffer.

I never felt this much rage in so long—it sure as hell does feel good.

I yell out something in complete and utter rage, and Ruin could only try to calm me down. But nothing and nobody can calm me down from raging over this revelation.

I know everyone else is looking at me with concern right now. I don't care, though.

Asteroid...

He suffered because of their choices.

He overworked to death because of their choices.

He died because of their choices.

He should've been alive right now...

But that's not how things went in reality.

I could feel tears streaming down my face—is this sadness? I don't remember...

"Ling..."

Ruin's voice truly is soothing—but I still sobbed uncontrollably.

I've never felt so many emotions come to me in so long.

It's...

...Overwhelming.

[mysticstarlightduck]

DISEASE - What is the most unique disease in this world?

Thanks for the ask, @illarian-rambling! This is a cool one!!!!

DISEASE - What is the most unique disease in this world?

Song Of Thorns - The Blood Plague

A dreadful and excruciatingly painful illness, the Blood Plague is a malady borne of corrupted magic - caused by humans who tampered with ancient orces that should've been left unawakened. The Blood Plague - as the name indicates - causes the victim to undergo a consumptive sickness that slowly drains them of energy and strenght, and then leads to more and more dreadful symptoms - a few of them being: coughing up blood, painful muscle spasms, hallucinations/loss of lucid thinking, boiling high fevers, vomiting blood, the slow - but sure - loss of vitality and slow petrification that leads to the internal rotting of limbs, organs and arteries, and eventually, transmutation. Much like any regular "zombie virus" this plague eventually transforms its host into a ghoul, a vampiric-like, corrupted creature of rotting flesh that wanders the woods, seeking to spread the contagion and who are bound between life and death, never to be free again.

Scrapyard Boys - Flux-Augmentation Syndrome

When a mutant who already possesses stable powers is forced to consume more superserum, effectively augmenting their abilities for the time being in a exponential manner that is quite impressive short-time wise - until the true effect of this forced augmentation shows its toll. The Mutant's powers start to become more erratic and dangerous both to themselves and others, and those powers start changing, mutating even more in unexpected and uncontrollable ways that can cause severe destruction, varying from weakening their powers to sudden bouts of explosive power surges. Like any fucked up abstinency, this syndrome only gets worse the more serum the mutant has willingly or unwillingly consumed, with symptoms ranging from migraines, uncontrollable rage, panic, hallunications/induced "madness", cramps, low blood pressure, and some other, more serious symptoms. With the spread popularity of superserum as a drug in the city of New Omnium, as well as the trials Spectre Academy agent trainees are forced to endure, this condition is currently in a meteoric rise in the metropolis. Some victims in this story include Josh Alleta (Erin Sterllern's foster cousin), who was kidnapped as a test subject by the PHANTOM Industries, and Rhett Donovvan, from this story's spinoff Mutant Inquiries (he's Ethan Donnovan's brother), as he became addicted to superserum after trying it on the streets a few times.

[rxshl]

(2)

It is easy to convince a child, and particularly an adolescent, that his desire to emulate Buck Rogers is ridiculous: he knows that it isn’t exactly Buck Rogers he has in mind and yet, simultaneously, it is—he feels caught in an inner contradiction—and this confirms his desolately embarrassing feeling that he is being ridiculous.

Thus the adults—whose foremost moral obligation toward a child, at this stage of his development, is to help him understand that what he loves is an abstraction, to help him break through into the conceptual realm—accomplish the exact opposite. They stunt his conceptual capacity, they cripple his normative abstractions, they stifle his moral ambition.

They arrest his value-development on a primitively literal, concrete-bound level: they convince him that to be like Buck Rogers means to wear a space helmet and blast armies of Martians with a disintegrator-gun.

Their motive is obvious. If they actually regarded Romanticism as an “impractical fantasy,” they would feel nothing but a friendly or indifferent amusement—not the passionate resentment and uncontrollable rage which they do feel and exhibit.

While the child is thus driven to fear, mistrust and repress his own emotions, he cannot avoid observing the hysterical violence of the adults’ emotions unleashed against him in this and other issues. He concludes, subconsciously, that all emotions as such are dangerous, that they are the irrational, unpredictably destructive element in people, which can descend upon him at any moment in some terrifying way for some incomprehensible purpose. This is the brick before last in the wall of repression which he erects to bury his own emotions. The last is his desperate pride misdirected into a decision such as: “I’ll never let them hurt me again!” The way never to be hurt, he decides, is never to feel anything.

But an emotional repression cannot be complete; when all other emotions are stifled, a single one takes over: fear.

The element of fear was involved in the process of the child’s moral destruction from the start. His victimized virtues were not the only cause; his faults were active as well: fear of others, particularly of adults, fear of independence, of responsibility, of loneliness—as well as self-doubt and the desire to be accepted, to “belong.” But it is the involvement of his virtues that makes his position so tragic and, later, so hard to correct.

As he grows up, his amorality is reinforced and reaffirmed. His intelligence prevents him from accepting any of the current schools of morality: the mystical, the social or the subjective. An eager young mind, seeking the guidance of reason, cannot take the supernatural seriously and is impervious to mysticism. It does not take him long to perceive the contradictions and the sickeningly self-abasing hypocrisy of the social school of morality. But the worst influence of all, for him, is the subjective school.

He is too intelligent and too honorable (in his own twisted, tortured way) not to know that the subjective means the arbitrary, the irrational, the blindly emotional. These are the elements which he has come to associate with people’s attitudes in moral issues, and to dread. When formal philosophy tells him that morality, by its very nature, is closed to reason and can be nothing but a matter of subjective choice, this is the kiss or seal of death on his moral development.

He knew—even though not in fully conscious terms—that he was achieving the opposite of his original, pre-conceptual goals and motives. Instead of leading a rational (i.e., reason-guided and reason-motivated) life, he was gradually becoming a moody, subjectivist whim-worshiper, acting on the range of the moment, particularly in his personal relationships—by default of any firmly defined values. Instead of reaching independence from the irrationality of others, he was being forced—by the same default—either into actual secondhandness or into an equivalent code of behavior, into blind dependence on and compliance with the value-systems of others, into a state of abject conformity.

[solhwellness]

Tips to Understand and Navigate Grief | Solh Wellness

Emotional distress brought on by both significant and little losses causes grief, a response to loss. Even though mourning is frequently associated with severe emotional pain, knowing its historical background might be helpful.

Beginning in the 1200s, the word "grief" first entered the English language. It originally stood for experiencing pain, suffering, and adversity. The phrase comes from the noun "griever," which denotes burdens or sorrows, and the word "grief," which indicated misfortune in Old French. The Latin words "gravare" and "gravis," which imply to make heavy or weighty, respectively, ari where this Old French name got its start.

This historical evolution emphasizes the concepts of weight, anguish, and difficulty and draws parallels with how we currently perceive grief as an emotional torment that takes the form of physical symptoms. A common way that people express their sorrow is as a weight on their shoulders, a heavy covering over their hearts, or a deep, all-consuming anguish.

Today's society acknowledges mourning as a typical reaction to loss. The degree of the attachment or relationship that led to the loss is reflected in the depth of the grieving. It can be quite sad and frequently leads to changes that have a big impact on one's life when a loved one or close family member passes away.

Modern perspectives understand that grieving can be triggered by any substantial loss, not just those that culminate in death, despite the fact that historically death has been the primary cause of melancholy.

Grief can have many different causes, such as:

Employment decline

Due to isolation and social interaction

Miscarriage

Divorce

This period of time, known as the "empty nest," comes after a child has grown up and moved out of the house.

Issues with your health that limit your opportunities, mobility, or confidence

A diagnosis that will have an impact on the lives of you or a loved one

The passing of a beloved pet

The passing of a loved one

The process of coping with loss involves a variety of emotional, mental, physical, and behavioral reactions, all of which might differ from person to person and change over time. The terms "grief," "mourning," and "bereavement" all have various meanings in this situation.

Grief: This holds true for our reactions to losing something. It evokes emotions like relief or helplessness, along with shock, grief, denial, despair, and fury. You can experience uncontrollable crying because you may feel nostalgic for happier moments that have passed before the loss.

Mourning: the process of adjusting after a loss. Social standards, cultural customs, and religious convictions all have an impact on it. It necessitates changing daily routines and point of view in addition to adjusting to life without the missing entity.

Bereavement:This expression refers to the duration of sadness. It indicates the period of time when the responses and emotions brought on by loss are most intense.

Grief appears in a variety of ways:

Emotions:From astonishment, numbness, sadness, and rage to anxiety and melancholy, emotions can run the gamut. You could feel helpless, guilty, or relieved. It's possible to cry unintentionally out of nostalgia or longing for the past.

Thoughts:  Disbelief, fuzziness, and difficulty concentrating are all symptoms of grief. The loss of the deceased person may come up in conversation. People occasionally go through hallucinations or see things that others cannot.

Physical Sensations: Physical symptoms can include a tightness or heaviness in the chest or throat, as well as severe fatigue, nauseousness, headaches, and muscle tension. Your grief can be making you feel sick.

Behaviors: Grief can modify a person's behavior, causing them to become irritable or snappy, have irregular sleeping patterns, or lose interest in their interests. Changes in energy levels may cause anxiety or unusually high levels of activity. It might also affect a person's spiritual or religious experiences, leading them to reevaluate their convictions or gain a deeper comprehension of what matters most in life.

Self-care tips to navigate grief:

Acknowledge Emotions: You must recognize and categorize your feelings in order to heal. This clarity also enables you to share your experience with others and makes it easier to identify the appropriate rituals or practices to address the situation.

Prioritize Self-Care: After recognizing your emotions, schedule time for the required self-care. Reflection is the process of building relationships with oneself. Stay off of other people's paths and concentrate on what you need right now.

Embrace Change: Recognize how your needs and identity change as a result of a loss. Put away previous expectations, societal standards, and other people's opinions, and think about your current priorities. Pay attention to the issues that are currently most important to you.

Support Physical Well-being: Your mind concentrates power to aid in emotional recovery. Your grieving process will go more smoothly if you stay physically well. You should take pauses as needed, look for company when you're alone, refrain from using drugs and alcohol, and partake in happy activities.

Communicate Needs: Many people may find it challenging to support mourning family members. By outlining your demands, empower them. Be specific when requesting assistance. The phrase "I appreciate your offer to join, but I'll listen to music alone" will make it clear that you need some alone time. Instead, say, "Can we go for a walk together this afternoon?" to solicit participation. It promotes your rehabilitation and makes it possible for family members to travel with you.

Conclusion

Even among family members who are experiencing the same loss, grief is a very personal emotion. It frequently occurs in waves or cycles, with periods of time where things are more or less normal coming after periods of intense feelings that persist for several hours or days. As you get used to the loss, these cycles could get easier over time. Adjusting only means that, with time, you get used to grieving; it doesn't mean that you don't care about the loss. Dates like holidays or anniversaries could evoke sentiments of sadness, but by making an adjustment, you can view these events through fresh eyes.

Since we think that mental health is important, Solh Wellness has selected a variety of effective self-help techniques to improve your mental wellbeing. We provide a variety of services, including goal-setting, mood analysis, self-assessment tests, journaling, and access to a sizable collection of educational materials. Utilize our wide range of self-help resources to take control of your path to improved mental health and personal growth.

[boopshoops]

Extra Game Mechanics - No Yan Sim by @quartztwst!

New Student

Jocia- knows practically no one. All the information she does know is second hand and thus very biased (Yuu Shi loves to talk shit sigh). Therefore, her impressions of other people and awareness of others reputation can be easily toyed with or changed depending on outside factors.

Going Solo

She prefers to be alone. While this may SEEM like it could offer many openings for Quartz to slide in and do what she needs to do, this is actually bait. Jocia takes care to always be ready for combat and always have a weapon on hand.

Dead Eyes

Her reputation, while starting off average, can fluctuate VERY quickly once she starts attending school. She naturally gives off a very intimidating vibe, especially since she's way more cold than usual. Rumors that are about her spread fast, and can cause her reputation to fall rapidly.

Declining

The more Jocia falls into this pattern of what is essentially hunting dog behavior, the less apt she will be to put up defenses. She is more and more likely to slip up and make a mistake as time passes.

True Rage

Jocia can enter a state of complete and uncontrolled anger- even more often now that before transferring schools. During this state, she can endure heavy injuries and continue fighting- even if it means eventual hospitalization or death.

Belongings of a Ghost

Jocia has a lot of Yuu's old belongings, INCLUDING her blackmail notebook. She knows a lot of secrets, though little about the people who hold them. How much she'll know about Quartz will vary depending on how much she interacted with Yuu. Unlike Yuu, however, she will not hide information for her own benefit. If she thinks someone is a murderer, she will come right out and say it.

Bulk Up

She will teach those who manage to grow close to her self defense techniques if they weren't aware of them already.

Unstoppable Force

Jocia will keep hunting until she drops. She will keep her eyes open, unsleeping, around every single corner until she knows that this school is a safe place. This also includes "True Rage" and "Declining."

Predator Response

Upon spotting someone she wants to take down, she will carefully either follow them until they are at their most vulnerable OR attempt to bait them to go after her, like in "Going Solo."

A Set Up

If Quartz attempts to follow her to her current place of residence, Jocia will have an ambush at the ready.

Taking you with me

If Jocia is on the verge of death, she will do anything in her power to take her killer down with her- even if it means removing any chance of saving herself.

If her reputation is on the fritz, she will do something similar. Jo will do anything in her power to make sure the one responsible looks just as bad as she does.

Healing

If Jocia makes enough friendships and rethinks her current hobbies, she will stop hunting as frequently. It can eventually stop all together. Once she has regained a bit of health (mental and physical), she will take temporary leave from school to go grieve properly with her family.

Evacuate

Only occurs after "Healing." Jocia will encourage her friends (and even friends of friends) to leave the school as fast as possible, or at least take a few days off. She will share everything she knows with those she trusts, but its also a possible way to get people out of Quartz's way.

The brain worms.. tHE BRAIN WORMS..

Anyway no yan sim oc pt. 2 "you offed the sassy cunt" edition.

I will expand more on her mechanics and possible relationships later but please note her character is very exaggerated here and in like- every other setting she'd grieve in a more tame way ok? Ok!

In basic summary of what I have mind, she's like if the delinquent characters actively tried to smite u ✨

TaaaaaAaags wowowowowo

@lowcallyfruity @cecilebutcher @kitwasnothere @skriblee-ksk @justm3di0cr3

@techno-danger @scint1llat3 @the-trinket-witch @thehollowwriter @distant-velleity

@beneathsakurashade @kathxrat-01 @qsoap @twsted-canvas @prince-kallisto

@tixdixl @twstinginthewind @sillyslipperybananapeel @nemisisnemi @jadelover69

[casspurrjoybell-23]

The Raven - Chapter 43

*Warning Adult Content*

Several years later...

Unbeknownst to the citizens of the kingdom and especially to the royals within the palace, a darkness has been brewing just outside their country's borders.

More than two decades have passed since the fall of the black magic that once dwelled inside the castle, the death of King Caleb's creator at his own bedside left a permanent and irreparable scar among a few who were left behind.

For over twenty years, the anger and hatred have grown and festered, blinding one woman in particular with an unrelenting rage.

Now the time is finally near for the sinister forces to once again rear their ugly heads and wreak havoc on the unsuspecting and entirely ignorant people under the raven's rule.

As the sorceress watches the vision in the smoldering fire, she appreciates the princess's struggle to remain true to herself, recognizing that it can prove quite an advantage in the witch's quest to usurp the throne.

For as long as the girl remains so deeply distracted, the magic possessor's task is made all the easier.

Dear Princess Valencia and her fathers, King Henry and that repulsive raven, will be so wholly preoccupied wrestling with the repercussions of forfeiting tradition that the witch's arrival will never be prefigured.

It is almost as if she is being welcomed in by formal invitation.

The ridiculous, so-called leaders of the country are practically destroying their kingdom all on their own.

The witch lets out a wicked cackle, observing as the heat suddenly dies out in the previously burning fire pit, putting an immediate end to the premonition.

A contented expression overtakes her face, understanding that her vengeance will soon be sated, the sorceress is so close to having her retaliation realized that she can almost taste her victory.

The woman has unquestionably never before felt so completely satisfied as she does at this precise moment, a twisted sense of accomplishment pooling within her stomach.

That blasted raven will pay for what he has done, she will make sure of it if it is the last thing she will ever do.

However, she must not get too far ahead of herself, for there is still a significant amount of work to be done to achieve success.

Removing herself from her seat before the rapidly cooling ashes, the witch dusts off the front of her dress with her bare hands, the scent of smoke lingering on her as it clings to her hair and clothes.

She reminisces silently for a moment, painstakingly remembering the loss she incurred the day Delilah Delvaux was ordered to give her life to perform the impossible task of resurrecting the dead.

It is a memory that has haunted her these twenty-plus years and will continue to torment her for the rest of her days.

The mere thought of what was so cruelly taken from her reignites the flames inside of the witch, her body searing with the uncontrolled fire of fury that is quickly expanding within her.

With her eyebrows knitted together and her lips pursed, the sorceress irately stomps from the room.

In the very back of her little shack in the woods lies the altar where she keeps her book of spells.

More determined than ever before to finally rectify the wrongs that have been done to her so many years ago, she swiftly strokes through the pages as she hastily begins to formulate a plan.

She will not allow the preposterous excuses for kings to remain unpunished for their crimes for even a minute longer than necessary.

With Princess Valencia's impending ascension and the unyielding drama that currently surrounds the royal family, now is evidently the most opportune time to exact her revenge and avenge her beloved Delilah.

Page after page, she scours the lengthy list of spells, chants and incantations, effortlessly committing anything that could possibly be of use to memory.

For now, she will simply collect as much information as she can, it is likely best to be appropriately prepared in this case, anyway.

Perhaps, if Delilah had been more prepared to execute her own scheme, she would still be alive today.

The witch cringes mentally at the thought, guilt instantly and incessantly swarming her.

No, she cannot blame Delilah for her own shortcomings.

Her plot had been practically flawless, any unplanned discrepancies were entirely the fault of that wretched raven.

With a shake of her head, the sorceress returns to her work, refusing to allow any more disruptions to her note-making.

There is no room for such mistakes when retribution is on the line.

- The End -

[caffeinatedopossum]

Poetry prompt: under the sea’s eyes

Oo thanks for the prompt! I think I'm gonna have fun with this one

Under the seas eyes:

I gazed at the ocean

With eyes glazed over

Overwhelmed by regret

That I will never really know her

I wonder what she has seen

And where she has been

Guided by the moon

And enveloped by the wind

I wish I could speak this language

Of seafoam and waves

Oh, what poetry it must be

To harbor both so many lives and so many graves

And though her stormy depths

Are a place I dare not dive

I'll wonder all my life

Which one of us is more alive

I hope this reverence

Is enough on its own

To appreciate from the shore

The nature of things that can't be known

Feel free to give me more prompts if ya'll want! I really enjoyed this

[mattsundaes-interact]

can i get poe dameron, dry humping, voice kink and praise kink with “you know you live me” as shes stubborn to admit she likes him pretty please

Insufferable

Poe Dameron x f!reader

Word Count: 2.1k+

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT

Content: NSFW, smut, dry humping, dirty talk, voice kink, praise kink

Summary: Avoiding Poe Dameron (and his unfailing charm) isn't quite so easy anymore when you end up stranded on an ice planet with him.

MASTERLIST || MORE KINKTOBER

Agreeing to embark on a reconnaissance mission with Poe Dameron was hardly conducive to your continued efforts to ignore him. And yet here you were—stranded for the night on a miserable ice planet, ship firmly grounded thanks to the wet, frigid winds that had sent you down for an emergency landing in the first place…with one insufferable pilot as your only company. 

From the moment you joined the Resistance, Poe had been flummoxed by the way you seamlessly brushed off his advances at every turn. It’s not that you didn’t find him attractive—entirely the opposite, actually. Just his voice was unfortunately enough to inspire many a late night fantasy, let alone his charming smile and warm, brown eyes. It was a fact you’d begrudgingly accepted early on. 

The issue was that you’d known plenty of cocky, pretty flyboys like him when you were a pilot with the New Republic, and you knew their game all too well. No goddamn thanks. You had zero interest in being just another notch in Poe’s cockpit. 

You could tell Poe was used to effortlessly charming women into his orbit, could see it in the way he employed new tactics on a daily basis in a futile attempt to win you over. But what he didn’t know was that the only thing that you were better at than flying an X-wing was being stubborn. If he thought he possibly had the wherewithal to wear you down, he had another thing coming.

This disastrous mission should have been quick and painless, bringing you back to the base in less than a day’s time. Though your heart had lurched when the assignment had popped up on your datapad alongside Poe’s name, you’d told yourself there was nothing to worry about. 

Unfortunately, as things in your life were often wont to do, that self reassurance had blown up spectacularly in your face.

Which is how you now found yourself curled into a ball in one of the bunks, shivering uncontrollably thanks to the way the raging cold of the storm outside had unforgivingly slipped in through each and every nook and cranny in the ship’s exterior. 

Poe had been fairly quiet thus far, which was a shocking turn of events given his general track record of talking your ear off whenever he was near you. Perhaps it hadn’t helped that you’d snapped at him the other day when he’d tried to offer you some help in repairing a blown thruster on your starfighter. Admittedly, your attitude had been entirely uncalled for, and you’d even gone so far as to look for him in the mess hall later that night to apologize (his response had been a mere nod before turning back to his dinner). 

His voice interrupted you from your thoughts. “It’ll be a miracle if we don’t freeze to death tonight.”

You pulled down the blanket that was covering your face to glance over at where he was standing a few feet away. “It’s a miracle we haven’t frozen to death yet, Dameron.” you groused miserably, teeth chattering. 

A rare look of uncertainty skirted across Poe’s features as he leveled you with a look of consideration before he said, “I have an idea, but you’re not gonna like it.”

You raised an eyebrow, and he gestured with his chin toward where you were currently fighting for your life to retain your body heat in the cocoon of several blankets. Heat flared in your gut at the implication. “You’re right,” you groaned. 

“About what?” 

“I don’t like it.”

Poe crossed his arms. “So you’d rather freeze than cuddle with me in a totally platonic, fighting-for-survival, probably-going-to-die-otherwise kind of way?”

Glaring at him, you rolled over onto your back to stare at the ceiling. After a beat, you groaned loudly and dramatically lifted up the edge of the blanket. 

You could hardly hear the sounds of him shirking off his jacket and dropping his blaster holster to the floor over the thunderous, erratic beating of your heart. This was not on the fucking itinerary. 

He cleared his throat. “Sorry to interrupt your internal meltdown, but can you scoot over?”

Biting back the retort dancing on the tip of your tongue, you looked down to see that you’d barely offered him a sliver of real estate on the thin mattress beside you. With a huff, you slid closer to the wall behind you.

“Thanks,” he acknowledged, before climbing in and slipping under the covers. 

Poe watched as you involuntarily placed a few extra inches of space between you, his lips twitching upward in a smirk. “I don’t bite.”

“Hm,” you replied, unable to formulate anything beyond your noncommittal response when he was this close to you. 

“The whole point of sharing body heat is to touch,” he added mildly. 

“I’m aware,” you snapped, closing the space between the two of you with more force than you’d intended. One of your ankles ended up tucked between his, and your knees knocked together. Admittedly, you could already feel the warmth radiating off of him from underneath your shared blanket. 

Your head was tucked in slightly toward his chest, partially to avoid looking at him, though you swore you could feel his eyes fixated on the top of your head, the weight of his gaze heavy in the stark silence between the two of you. 

When Poe finally spoke, there was an unfamiliar edge to it. “Why do you hate me?”

Despite the knee jerk response that you wanted to give him, that you’d normally give him on any other day, something about his tone made you hesitate. 

“I don’t…hate you,” you responded slowly.

Poe made a dismissive noise. “Then what’s your problem with me?”

You sighed, weighing your options, ultimately opting to go with the truth. Shifting to meet his eyes, you explained, “I knew plenty of guys like you back when I flew with the New Republic. You know, handsome, cocky ace pilots.”

He was quiet for a moment before he finally said, “So you think I’m handsome.”

“Don’t get sidetracked, Dameron,” You snapped. “My point is, I know your type. And the last time I smiled back at a pilot like you, he ended up breaking my heart. So I’m unfortunately no longer in the business of setting myself up for failure.”

Poe bit his lip, his eyebrows knitting together in concern. “I’m sorry.”

Something inside of you warmed involuntarily at the softness of his tone. “For what?”

“That someone treated you like that. You deserve better.”

You wondered if he could hear how loudly your heart was clanging around in your chest. “I’m sorry that I let him.”

Poe considered you for a moment, and he looked almost sheepish when he finally spoke again. “I hope you know I’m not just interested in you because you know your way around an X-wing.”

You snorted. “Heard that line before, Dameron.”

He carried on as if you hadn’t spoken. “I’m crazy about you because you’re brilliant. You don’t hesitate to put your entire heart and soul into this fight against the First Order. And you’re one of the bravest soldiers in the Resistance.”

Crazy about you?

Oh. 

He continued, and a warmth that had nothing to do with the temperature in the room or under the covers spread through your limbs, “I mean, I’m not gonna lie. It’s also very hard for me to ignore the fact that the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met can fly circles around my entire squadron. But I digress.”

You were suddenly having a hard time remembering exactly why you’d insisted on putting so much goddamn distance between you and the man currently staring at you like you were the brightest star in the galaxy.

“Poe?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry for pushing you away,” you lamented, trying to keep your voice steady as you scooted a hair closer to him.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, gently pressing a kiss to the top of your head and resting a hand on top of yours.

As your exhaustion from the stress of the day finally caught up to you, sleep soon took over. And if you were conscious, you’d be quite embarrassed to discover that there was no escaping your secret late night fantasies about Poe Dameron, not even when he was unknowingly fast asleep beside you. But instead, when you found yourself laying underneath of him in a dream, you didn’t hesitate to crane your neck upward, pressing your lips to his.

Poe kissed you back with fervor, one hand cupping the back of your head as he dipped his tongue into your mouth. In your dreams, the rhythm of his tongue sliding against yours as he devoured your mouth was a familiar dance. He bit your lip, and you mewled, drawing a chuckle out of him as he ran his nose along your cheek, his stubble brushing against your chin. 

As the kiss grew deeper and hungrier, Poe’s hand slid down to grip at your waist, his thumb tucking into the hem of your pants. You arched upward into him, eager for more friction, which he playfully denied you of. Whining in frustration, you slipped a hand between your bodies and cupped him between his legs, feeling how hard he already was for you. The smile on his face fell as he moaned, pushing his cock against your palm, and you smirked before flipping him over and straddling him. 

You leaned down, kissing him sweetly on the mouth as you began to grind down on him, both of you groaning in unison at the pleasurable feeling of his thick shaft pressing against your hot core.

“Fuck.”

Your eyes shot open at the sound of Poe’s husky voice in your ear, and you froze as a cold, numbing feeling of mortification washed over you. You realized that you had indeed rolled over on top of him in your sleep, and based on the dampness between your legs and the throbbing of his length between you, you hadn’t just been laying there. 

“I—” you choked out, mind unable to come up with any sort of a reasonable explanation as to why you were currently dry humping him.

“Don’t stop,” Poe breathed out, his voice rougher than usual.

You weren’t sure you had heard him correctly. “What?”

“Unless you want to stop,” he clarified.

You’d deal with the rational part of your mind later. Right now, you were far too distracted by the feeling of him pressed against you. You pushed your hips flush to his, and he moaned. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, and you did it again, your juices soaking through your pants entirely as you ran your cunt along the length of Poe’s cock.

“Were you dreaming about me?” he asked.

Fuck it. 

“Yeah, I was.”

Poe groaned again, his hands curling around your hips as you dropped your head down against his collarbone. “You look so fucking beautiful rubbing yourself all over my cock. Think I’m gonna come just like this.”

His breath was hot against your ear, and the cadence of his voice sent a fresh gush of arousal leaking out of your folds. Your breath hitched. 

“Keep going,” he whispered.

You pressed down against him again, the ache between your thighs growing more demanding, and one of your hands ended up threaded in Poe’s curls.

“Good girl.”

As the praise fell from his lips, your empty cunt clenched down on nothing, and your legs trembled. Poe noticed, and he cupped the side of your face, looking into your eyes.

Licking his lips, he added, “You’re so wet for me, I can feel it soaking through your pants. Bet you’d take me so fucking well, stuffed in that pretty little pussy.”

Your heart raced, your cunt throbbing as you began to desperately press down against him, chasing your rapidly approaching climax. He met your thrusts in time, and you keened at the feeling of his callused fingers skimming the place where your shirt had ridden up, exposing your stomach. 

Poe’s mouth hovered a breath away from yours, and he spoke his next words against your lips. “Come for me.”

The livewire of tension coiled in your gut snapped, your orgasm flooding through you in a wave of white hot pleasure. Poe’s hips began to stutter as he rode out his climax moments later, spilling ropes of cum inside of his pants. You collapsed on top of him, both of you panting heavily.

“Does this mean you’ll stop avoiding me like the plague now?” he eventually asked, once you’d both caught your breath.  

You grinned against his chest. “I can’t make any promises.”

He scoffed and nipped at your ear. “You know you love me.”

“You’re insufferable, Poe Dameron,” you sighed, lifting your head up slightly and wrapping one of his curls around your finger before pressing a kiss to his lips. 

Read the time skip sequel - INSATIABLE

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Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

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