#your eyes do not deceive you that's an actual snippet

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

VH - The Lowest Bar

Antihero entered the reunion room in the headquarters’ agency, looking everywhere with a wonder they didn’t try to hide. This room was generally used in time of crisis, and by the most powerful superheroes. They couldn’t believe they had finally made it. Shyly, they walked towards the huge round table.

On the other side, there was a little man, grinning as widely as they were. He was drinking something that Antihero supposed was tomato juice.

“Hiya, bud !”

That wasn’t the solemn greeting Antihero was expecting, but maybe it was better like this. They smiled back hesitantly.

“Hello. I, uh- I was supposed to see someone about the machine I’ve made.”

“Yup, I’m the guy.”

“I’m sorry, I thought I knew all the Superheroes of the agency. Are you one of them?”

The man chuckled:

“Sorta.”

Antihero hesitated. They were sure they’d never seen him before, not on the TV nor on the papers nor on social media.

“So you do...missions, fight evil?”

“More like incompetent dorks, but yeah.”

Feeling his interlocutor uneasy, he rolled his eyes and added:

“I do night shifts.”

“Oh, um, okay.”

Embarrassed, Antihero sat down. They were expecting for several people to show up, even perhaps the director’s agency, or at least someone they knew by sight. The man looked young, frail and well...unimpressive. At least he seemed very enthusiastic. He kept smiling at them.

“Shoot. Don’t monologue too long about it.”

Antihero gulped and placed the Machine on the table. The man’s eyes shone. He put away his red drink to examine it further.

“What a big thingie ! With all those pipes and these strings and...bits and pieces!”

“Thank you?”

“Yeah, can’t say I’m good with this electronic stuff. Old-fashioned family, you know. I like phones, though. Do you know that if you yell the word at it, it submits and gives you lots of bats pictures?”

“Yes.”

“You are a true expert, then. Go on, tell me.”

Antihero coughed a little:

“Well, I’ve found possessions of an ancient supervillain when I stopped a villain the other day. It was made by some mad scientist who thought she could scan the souls of people. Villain used it on his henchmen to see if they had what it took before hiring them.”

The man rubbed the bridge of his nose, appalled:

“Really? See, that’s what’s wrong with the world today.”

“Exactly! More and more villains have access to this kind of technology-”

“-And not bothering testing people themselves. "

The table shook under his fist while his other arm was waving, as if he could catch into thin air the words that would express his frustration:

"Where’s the creativity? Where’s the craft? You can’t just push a button to deal with your victims! You have to take the time to discover their phobia and make it happen! You dirty your hands and rip out their guts yourself! Otherwise, what’s the point? ”

“Err- I see you try very hard to understand villains-”

“Oh, it’s because I have lots of empathy."

He took a big sigh and added:

"But let’s get back to the subject. What about the machine?”

“Fortunately, my team took it and well-”

Antihero took a big inspiration, wondering how useful it was to explain the functioning of the complex mechanism to someone who referred wires as “strings”, and decided to go straight to the point:

“I won’t annoy you with details. Just know that it’s now programmed the other way.”

“Meaning?”

“It can now detect the people who are pure of heart.”

“Really? How so?”

“Well, all I do is switch it on, the person speaks up and shows his eyes to the scan here, the machine looks into their soul, and then it gives a number. The average human is around 50, but the best person ever could reach a 100, theoretically.”

“And we care why?”

“Sir! The applicability is huge! Imagine if in politics we could give our politicians this test! Or- Or to anyone who wants to be a hero! Or any applicants in any job, really.”

“Where does the number come from?”

“Oh, it’s a score based on every crime the person has committed or thought about committing.”

“A crime? So it’s based on the law?”

“Yes, mostly. That’s the most objective base.”

“How true. And those below 50?”

“Well…”

Antihero looked away:

“When making the machine, Supervillain has ordered for those who failed the test to be executed. So, um, there’s still a function for that, if the score is really bad. We couldn’t delete it, but we made it better. Now it’s quick and painless. It’s not automatic, but with worst cases, it can be a humane method of execution.”

“And your point of coming here is?”

“Well, to have your authorization to produce the machine, of course. Unless you have suggestions to modify it.”

The man giggled, stroking his cheek in reflection.

“Let me sum this up. You stole your thingie from a guy who couldn’t be bothered to test his own minions – honestly, that’s not that hard, you give them one person to execute and see how much they squirm—then you’ve based it on the law, which as you know never changes and is always right, but you couldn’t find the button to delete the killing function. Do I get it right?”

Antihero blushed, griping their elbows with their hands:

“There...there are certainly modifications to be made...you...you don’t like it?”

“Don’t like it? I love it!”

The man leaned towards them. He was still smiling. Antihero, who had raised their head, looked at his white teeth glinting in the artificial light. Without knowing why, they shivered. There was still a bit of red at the corner of his mouth. The stain looked a little too dark and thick to be tomato juice. Maybe it was a special protein drink.

The man licked his lips:

“That’s a great idea ! In fact, I insist that you use it on me.”

Antihero stared at him with his eyes wide open.

“I couldn’t…possibly…It’s still a prototype, you know.”

The man shook his head and stood up, opening a computer that he turned towards them:

“That’s my file. Look at this, if you're not convinced.”

The first thing Antihero saw was the percentage of success. It might have been the first time they'd seen a 100% – except of course for the newcomers, so they scrolled down to see the details. They gasped:

“Y...You stopped all this people? Villain, and Villain, and also Villain and oh damn...even Supervillain? And Supervillain?”

“Yep,” the man smiled nicely. “See? Total paragon of virtue here. Plus, I don’t go boasting in the news or anywhere else.”

Antihero looked at them with admiration.

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to-”

“Oh, that’s all right. Somehow, lots of people are unconvinced about my inner goodness. Let me try!”

Antihero beamed at them and switched the machine on. The man obediently stared at the machine and got closer than ever. For the first time, Antihero realized how his pupils were abnormally large. When he said the sentence Antihero told him to say, they were surprised at how sharp his teeth looked, and how two of them seemed- well- longer than before…

They shook their head. They probably just needed a little more sleep.

Then the machine burped. And clicked. And groaned.

“It didn’t give a number,” pointed the little man after a while, surprised. “What does it do, now?”

Antihero blubbered, their eyes wide:

“I- I think- it’s dysfunctional- it never did that before-”

“Oh, it sings, isn’t that nice! Is it programmed to play a funeral march?”

“I- We’ve never noticed this...It’s losing fluid…”

“No, no. I think it’s just crying black tears.”

After a moaning that sounded disturbingly human, the mechanism fell into a deafening silence. Then, the biggest pipe popped off. Antihero yelped as the machine opened in two, projecting black ooze everywhere. The man dodged in time, they did not. He shook his head as Antihero gasped, their eyes slowly filling with tears:

“Man, I must have been off the charts. My virtue stroke again.”

This time, Antihero definitively saw two long fangs that looked like tiny daggers as he added:

“Guess all the bastards will live! Too fucking bad.”

*

Vampire Hero is a recurring character. His job is to troll current villains. Check the Vampire Hero Masterlist or Tag for more snippets with him.

Or back to Hero x Villain Masterlist.

[n1k0laa5]

THE PEARL OF GREAT PRICE

Snippet by Neville Goddard, full audio and read here.

So great is this pearl, so valuable, it takes everything that you own to buy it.

Now you don’t go and liquidate your stocks and bonds… you don’t sell your homes; you don’t sell anything in the world of Caesar.

But it takes everything that you now believe in other than it to pay for it.

You believe in astrology? You’ve got to sell it.

You believe in numerology, in teacup leaves, in numerology and all these things? No matter what you believe in as a power to control you, you’ve got to sell it.

It takes the belief—all these beliefs—and you’ve got to sell them. No one will buy them from you! But you give them up as value-less! Therefore, there’s no price attached, no value whatsoever. But you can’t hold on to one thing you now believe in as a power that controls your life and still hope to buy the pearl of great price.

And here he defines it, that he is the only way in the world to everything in this world that you and I seek. And it takes everything that we own—as to beliefs that we think are powers to guide our life—to pay for that pearl of great price.

If you think for one moment you can hold on to one little thing in the event this doesn’t work, you can’t buy the pearl. And so when I buy the pearl, I go all out and live by it. And there is no other being in this world… just the pearl, and I live by it.

And this pearl is your own wonderful human Imagination.

Now I see her in the audience tonight. Last Friday night, this sweet lady told me this story.

She went into the baker to buy the usual things that we buy when we go to a bakery. And the lady who waited on her didn’t look well.

And she, without asking the reasons for her present appearance, in her own mind’s eye, when she got home, she talked to her as though she stood before her physically.

She didn’t sit down… she didn’t relax… didn’t go into a trance… just brought her before her mind’s eye and heard her say that she felt so well, and she complimented her on the way she looked. She looked so well. And this was a communion between two souls… how she looked so well.

And she believed in the reality of her imaginal act.

One week later, she goes back into the same bakery, and here is this lady, same lady but radiant. So radiant it prompted a response from this one, and she said, “But you look so well. What has happened?”

“Well,” she said, “this past week I inherited some money. I paid all of my bills. I paid everything that I owed in this world, and so I have no debts, and I have money.”

Now this lady is totally unaware of the gift she received from the lady who is present here tonight. Totally unaware of it.

Christ in you is the hope of glory. Come test yourself and see.

What a wonderful invitation. Test yourself. How would I test myself? Well, this is how you test yourself. I tell you that if you imagine, as this lady did, that someone stands before you in bodily form, though they cannot be seen with your mortal eye, but actually you imagine they are standing before you, and you carry on a conversation with them from the premise of your fulfilled desire for them, and then you feel them as you would feel them were they now solidly present, and you believe in the reality of that imaginal act, it’s done.

And how it happens, you need not be concerned. It has its own manner of externalizing itself within their world. All you need do is do it. As told us in the first chapter of the Book of James, when He said, “Receive with meekness the implanted word.” And the Word is called Christ Jesus, the power and the wisdom of God.

But be ye doers of the word, and not merely hearers, deceiving yourselves.

So when he tells me to be the doer of the word, the world thinks it means to go out and make some physical effort.

No.

James is not telling me substitute works for faith. Works are the evidence as to whether the faith that I profess is alive or dead.

Is it alive? If it’s alive, I will act upon it.

If it’s not alive… well, then, I won’t act upon it. I haven’t yet bought the pearl of great price.

When I buy the pearl of great price, there is no other pearl like it. I sell all in this world to buy it. I sell all beliefs in powers other than my own wonderful human imagination. And everyone, because he has imagination and everyone can imagine and everyone can believe in the reality of his imaginal act, is free. It sets a man free.

For we are told:

If you believe my word and abide in my word, then you know the truth, and the truth will set you free.

Well, how does he define the truth? He said, “I AM the truth.” He said, “If you know my word, you know the truth” and “I am the truth.”

If you abide in this, then you’ll be set free.

You mean that if I simply imagine that I am the man that I would love to be, that’s all that I need do? Just try it. Imagine that you are already the man that you would like to be, the woman you’d like to be, your friends are and total strangers are as you would like them to be. Just imagine it. Try it.

Test yourself and see.

As you test yourself and it happens… well, then, can you turn back to the belief in any power outside of Christ Jesus? (Your imagination)?

It’s finding who He is, and I tell you Christ Jesus is your own wonderful human imagination. Christ in you must resurrect. And so you start to exercise Him, believing in Him. Believe in the law of Christ Jesus and be saved.

And so I begin to believe in him, put all my trust in Him. It doesn’t matter where I start in life. Behind the eight ball? Makes no difference. I start believing in Him and only in Christ Jesus. Then I take off from there, giving my entire life to Him, just as though there were no others, just Christ Jesus, and I have found Him. He’s my own wonderful human Imagination.

When I believe in Him to that extent, things happen.

[greenleaf4stuff]

Of Convenience 10.3

(all previous parts of "Of Convenience")

Adar x Celebrimbor (silverscars) political marriage AU, 10th snippet, part 3. Celebrimbor has to confront his fears - and the one who took his city from him. The smith’s interference might just be the thing that decides the outcome of the final battle against Sauron for everyone.

There is some hinted past Celebrimbor/Sauron in this one.

Warnings for blood, graphic violence (bleeding wounds, choking), background and major character death, Sauron doing Sauron things and saying Sauron things. Okay, this is it, the final confrontation – I cannot believe we’ve made it this far. There is one more part to snippet 10 to go after that though, because this fight actually got longer than I had anticipated. I originally planned for 3 parts and max 7.5k words *stares at her wordcount* well… that did not work out. (It’s actually closer to 10k for all of part 10. Oops?) Anyway – enjoy!

Celebrimbor did his best to sneak up the staircase to his forge, even though he felt as if his heart was beating loud enough that it would surely give him away. This, he realized, was it – the moment they had all worked towards, and the moment in which he would have to face his own fears.

Clutching the sword in his grasp, he finally reached the top of the stairs, and chanced a glance around the open door and into the forge proper.

It was clear that the area had been turned into an active battlefield, albeit a less-than-ideal one. Various tools and bits of debris were laying about, even some of his scrolls and sketches had found their way to the floor, torn or ripped. Shelves and tables were overturned, the roofing was clearly damaged, and between all of that were blood splatters, splinters and dust.

With dread, Celebrimbor caught sight of more dead bodies. Judging by their clothes, more of the Eregion guards – and some of his former apprentices. Once again, Celebrimbor squeezed his eyes shut and averted his face, briefly, as he forced back the tears that threatened to rise.

He’d honor them and make sure they were given a proper burial, once all this was over. But he could not mourn the dead while there were still the living that he could – had to – protect.

When he managed to open his eyes again, Celebrimbor quickly took in the scene before him.

His friends were strewn about the room in various states of exhaustion and injury. From Gil-Galad using Aeglos to keep himself on his feet, to Elrond who had been seemingly thrown into a wall and was struggling to get his feet under him, Galadriel who clutched her upper leg which bled sluggishly from a long cut, to Adar who was bleeding from both his upper arm and his thigh as he was locked into exchanging blows with-

him.

He, who looked to be distressingly unharmed, even unfazed, in the midst of all this chaos and destruction. Sauron still carried his appearance as Annatar, long golden hair and black robes only lightly covered in dust. He was turned away from where Celebrimbor was, but in the tone of his voice, the elf could practically hear the wide, self-assured smile of the fallen maia.

"Face it, Adar," the Deceiver gloated, and pushed the uruk back with a kick to the sternum, causing Adar to stumble backwards and fall heavily. Sauron had ripped Adar’s dark iron sword – the reforged crown of Morgoth – from his grasp, and now tossed it behind himself carelessly.

The blade bounced off of the floor in a wide arc due to the force with which it had been thrown, and ultimately came to a halt where Celebrimbor had hidden himself behind the door. Right at his feet.

He stared at the blade, unsure if this was a coincidence or if something else was at work here, until Sauron’s words pulled him out of his frozen state again and made him reach down to grab the sword, exchanging it for this own, which he sheathed.

"Your first attempt on my life didn’t kill me, what made you think the second would be more successful? Celebrimbor fleeing my grasp might have set me back, but it’s only a matter of time till I regain a hold of him and finish the rings."

"And then, finally, I can heal middle earth from its ails, just as I had intended to do with you. Sadly, you lacked the belief – and the vision."

The words made Celebrimbor’s blood boil. He’d heard and seen plenty of Sauron’s plans, enough that he could guess that the maia might indeed be believing his own lies. Certainly enough to know that whatever ‘healing’ he intended to perform, it would spell misery for everyone in not just middle earth, but all of Arda.

To hear him making these claims was in infuriating, but Celebrimbor hated most of all how this fiend was standing over Adar and talked to him as if he were a mere worm under Sauron’s feet. Adar, who cared about his children and truly wanted to make middle earth a better place for them – and, as the alliance had shown, for the other races as well.

"But you won’t be here to see that," words that made Celebrimbor seize up, and then look into the room in a blind panic. Adar, for his part, was not crawling backwards and away, but stared his former tormentor right in the face as the other walked up to him, undoutably to deliver the killing blow.

Unafraid and defiant and so, so beautiful.

‘I cannot let him die,‘ Celebrimbor thought desperately.

He didn’t even make the conscious decision to slide from his hiding place, dark iron sword brandished in both hands as he sprinted over to where Sauron was bending down to get a hold of Adar.

Out of the periphery of his eye, he could see the moment Adar caught sight of him, how the uruk’s expression changed to one of pure spite to one of surprise, then fear.

The smith had enough of a mind not to scream like a madman, and this perhaps was the reason he got as lucky as he did, swinging the sword – and embedding it into Sauron’s right shoulder.

The impact of the blow rattled him, for indeed he was not a commander like Galadriel or a seasoned fighter like Adar, but he had managed to strike the maia nonetheless. Black blood burst from the deep cut he’d made; not deep enough to kill the other, but harm had been done.

As Celebrimbor quickly realised with a surge of fear, this meant the other would now be aware of him. But mixed in there was the relief of having saved his husband from getting killed, even as Celebrimbor stumbled backwards, leaving the sword to stick out of Sauron’s flesh.

The maia briefly remained locked in place, as if surprised, before he rose to his full height again. The smith could hear Galadriel gasp as she locked eyes with the smith, and he saw Ereinion helping Elrond back to his feet, but both their expressions were ones of shock and worry as well.

Adar, who hadn’t seemed to hold the slightest bit of tepridation in regards to his own safety, had grown even paler than usual.

And then, Sauron had turned around. The sheer hatred that rolled off of him came to an abrupt halt as he laid eyes on Celebrimbor.

For a moment, everything seemed to come to a standstill. The terror inside Celebrimbor was so perfect, so complete, so all encompassing that it filled every part of him, and he could not avert his eyes as he saw Sauron’s expression change from recognition to utter, obsessive glee.

Before the elf could do more than take another step back, Sauron had shot forward, and in two long strides, he managed to grab Celebrimbor by the throat and lift him up into the air. The sword in his shoulder seemed inconsequential to him, so focused was he on the smith in his hold.

As the elf grasped for the other’s hands in attempt to keep himself from getting choked, he could hear Gil-Galad shouting in rage from where he stood, but Celebrimbor’s eyes would not leave Sauron. Despite the elven rings, who he suspected had protected all of them from having their minds twisted by the Deceiver, he could not make himself look away.

Once, he had considered the face before himself fair – a face worthy of an emissary of the valar, matching the graciousness and generosity he thought to have seen within Annatar. Now, all that remained was a broken mask, an approximation of beauty that unnerved him, especially with the wide grimace of a smile that quickly stretched across Sauron’s face.

"Celebrimbor," the blond breathed. "So you have returned to me at last."

"Don’t flatter yourself," the smith spat, breathless as he was in the maia’s hold, and dug his nails into the skin of Sauron’s hands. "It is not you I came here for."

There was a twitch to the other’s jaw, brief but visible, and his grip on Celebrimbor’s throat tightened. The smith choked as he scrambled against where the other’s fingers were digging into his flesh. At least, he had Sauron’s full attention now. He wouldn’t hurt Adar.

The elf’s eyes slipped to the uruk, finally freed from the sight of the maia, and the two briefly locked eyes. He could see distress in Adar’s face, who was wide-eyed and painfully struggling to his feet. If he’d had the breath for it, Celebrimbor might have marvelled at how expressive the other could be if he didn’t consciously try to hide himself away.

The thought slipped from his mind as he caught Sauron turning around to follow the direction of Celebrimbor’s gaze.

When he turned back to the smith, his face held an expression of confusion, then disbelief, mixed with a malicious sense of humor.

"Oh, I understand now," Sauron leered at him. "You ran right into his arms, did you not? Found the first one who would listen to your pleas and help you in your fight?"

"My dear Celebrimbor – was it worth it? What did you have to sacrifice, to have him give his army and his own life to you and your friends?"

Despite the lack of air, Celebrimbor couldn’t keep himself from replying. He refused to look at the one who had warped his mind and tormented him all these weeks ago, and instead looked at Adar as he said, "Nothing. I sacrificed nothing, for what we have could never be a loss to me."

This time, he feared the tightening of the other’s hand would be enough to crush his windpipe. The sound of Sauron’s voice bordered on incredulous, now. "You-"

He didn’t get to finish his sentence when, seemingly out of nowhere, Galadriel ripped the darkened iron sword out of Sauron’s shoulder, spun around towards his left, and used the momentum to ram it into the Deceiver’s side instead.

The impact was strong enough to shake the maia and, in turn, the smith in his grasp. Thankfully, the unexpectedness of the attack caused Sauron to lose his focus, and Celebrimbor drew in several, shaking breaths as the grip around his neck slackened a little as a result.

Sadly, not enough to drop him, but getting to breathe again certainly was an improvement.

He wasn’t quite able make out Sauron’s expression from this angle, but Galadriel looked downright furious as she tried to yank the sword back out from where he’d sunk it into the blond. Before she could, Sauron had grabbed her by the throat as well. Thankfully for her, he did not insist to raise her up from the ground and seemed content to just keep her fixed in place.

She, too, fought to try and pry off Sauron’s fingers from her neck, but to no avail.

"Galadriel," the Deceiver spoke. He sounded almost disappointed as he regarded her, before his tone became smug once more. "I’d thought it to be you who had charmed the orcs to the elves’ side, what a surprise to see it was the smith instead. I suppose I should have known. You are, after all, rather well known for killing Adar’s ‘precious’ children."

Celebrimbor knew what the other was doing. Even now, when he had them all at his mercy, when he was so sure of his own victory, he couldn’t help but taunt and try to sow discord among them.

"How can you even bear it, hm? To see one of them despoil your friend in such a manner? A worthless, common orc, and you are letting him have access to the Lord of Eregion."

To her credit, Galadriel looked as incensed as Celebrimbor felt at the fallen maia’s words. "Who my friend claims for himself, whether as friend or partner, is his own choice. And he’s chosen well, picking Adar over you."

"He’s worth many of you – Lord of Nothing." Celebrimbor added, recalling of Sauron had tried to flatter him, and himself, when he’d first presented himself as Annatar.

When the Deceiver was neither a ‘Lord of the Rings’ nor a ‘Lord of Gifts’.

Judging by Galadriel’s pained gasp, and his own inability to breathe, Morgoth’s shadow had taken offense to that title. The smith grinned even though it pained him, and relished the small victory of Sauron’s anger where it became visible on his face.

And then, something else happened.

Again, the maia shook – the sword had been pulled from his side, and thick blood sprayed out of the wound there.

It was Adar who had taken hold of the sword – the sword, which Celebrimbor had made for him. Which he had hoped Adar might use to kill their shared enemy.

Judging by the look in Adar’s eyes, he was ready to do just that. The hatred burning there almost rivalled Sauron’s own.

The smith quickly understood what the uruk intended, and curled his hands around Sauron’s wrist – not to pry off his grasp, but to hold onto it. To keep the maia from reaching out and stopping Adar, even if he knew that the other had far greater strength than he himself did and would be able to shake off his grip eventually.

But, he wouldn’t be able to do so right away – and that would be all the time Adar might need.

Just like him, Galadriel too changed her grip, and held tightly onto Sauron’s hand.

The blond needed a moment to notice, his expression one of surprise.

He faltered.

Adar didn’t.

The uruk lurched forward with a shout, and drove the dark iron sword right into the maia’s chest. It went all the way through, spilling even more black blood.

His face was terribly close to Sauron’s now, the two staring at each other – the fallen maia in shock, eyes wide and unable to give any smug response, while Adar’s face held a look of grim satisfaction.

"Do us all a favor. And die, permanently, this time."

The uruk pushed Sauron back, then, and finally, Celebrimbor felt the pressure around his throat release.

He fell to the ground and likely would have crumbled into a heap on the floor, had it not been for Adar catching and steadying him before he did.

Like the times before when Adar had touched him, Celebrimbor felt warmth spread through his body as he felt the uruk’s arms wrap around him, and held onto the uruk’s arms with his own hands in turn. Even more so when he was quickly dragged away from Sauron, who was stumbling and staring at the sword embedded in his chest. His look was one of sheer disbelief.

Celebrimbor was glad to note that Elrond and Gil-Galad had also reached Galadriel’s side and were pulling her back as well. In the light, he saw all three of their rings glimmer at once, before his attention was pulled back towards his husband.

"Are you alright?" Adar asked him, sounding urgent, and tightened his arms around the elf as they finally came to stand, far enough away that the maia could not reach them. His gaze was searching, and still held genuine fear.

Celebrimbor couldn’t help but smile – even though the danger wasn’t gone until Sauron lay dead, he felt relief at seeing Adar alive and at being able to hold him. Living, breathing proof that he hadn’t lost the uruk.

"I will be, now that you are safe."

The other seemed ready to reply, but he only opened and closed his mouth a few times, at a loss for words. The elf couldn’t blame him.

There was a loud gurgling sound that ripped them out of their brief exchange, and both Adar and Celebrimbor looked over to see Sauron struggling to stay upright. He was trying to pull the sword out of his chest; whether he knew what it was, or had been, the smith couldn’t say, but he looked frustrated more than anything.

Which, of course – the crown hadn’t fully killed him the first time, after all. He likely still expected to survive this.

Galadriel stepped in front of Sauron again, ready to try and prove him wrong. Celebrimbor only hoped it would work.

She gripped the handle of the sword.

If Sauron had expected her to speak any words, he would have to be disappointed. Celebrimbor could tell she had yanked the sword out of his chest, but anything else blurred before his eyes as Adar turned them around and threw the elf and himself onto the ground as he covered Celebrimbor’s body with his own.

The last thing Celebrimbor saw, in that moment, was Vilya, Narya and Nenya, gleaming brightly as if with a power of their own, before there was a loud scream tearing through the forge and a blinding light shot out, bright enough that Celebrimbor had to close his eyes and turned his head into the dark, safe space between Adar’s neck and shoulder while he held onto the uruk for dear life.

[mosylufanfic]

Linen and Kisses

For Fluffbruary! The prompts for today were table | blush | laundry. Thanks to @toooldforthisbutstill for sharing the snippet of a marriage contract that inspired this.

Linen and Kisses

The music had switched from Wagner to Nine Inch Nails, so Cassian knew his girlfriend was taking a break for at least a few songs. She couldn't listen to anything with words when she was working, she said because languages got tangled up in her head, so she had massive playlists of classical and instrumental music to blast as she was head-down in some manuscript or other. 

He went out to the kitchen and found her filling the kettle. The ravages of her morning's work spilled out over the table, multiple dictionaries and her battered old computer and printouts with penciled notes and highlighted words. 

"What language today?" he asked.

"Japanese," she said. 

Before meeting her, Cassian had considered himself reasonably multilingual. Spanish, English, and about halfway to fluent in French. It was two-and-a-half times more languages than most people spoke in this country. 

But Jyn was fluent in all those and more. She worked as a freelance translator, and since moving in together, he'd gotten used to having half the bookcase filled with dictionaries and having to guess which language she was using to talk on the phone and why. 

French, Japanese, Arabic, Russian? Some connection of hers on another continent.

Spanish, with a lot of laughing? Probably his sister. 

Danish? Her father, and there would be cursing afterwards.

"Are you done?" he asked. "Or just taking a break?"

"Done for now."

"Good, I was going to start lunch. Any requests?"

"Edible," she said, starting to clear up her mess. "Thanks." She hooked her arm around his waist and leaned up to kiss his cheek. She got taciturn when fighting with a particular translation - well, more taciturn. 

By the time she'd cleaned the table off, he'd gotten some of his homemade tomato soup in the microwave and assembled a couple of cheese sandwiches for grilling. She leaned against the counter as he cooked. 

He rarely liked having someone in his kitchen, but Jyn was the exception. 

"What's wrong?" she asked, breaking a corner off the cheese block and tossing it in her mouth.

"Nothing," he answered, a hair too fast. "Why do you ask?"

She eyed him. "I dunno, you just seem a little tense."

"Because you're eating all the good cheese."

"Oh no," she said, cutting off another corner. "Whatever will happen if we run out of cheese? We might have to go down to the store. How awful."

He waggled his spatula at her. "That's the good stuff. You don't get that at a fucking Walmart."

"Snob," she said, and took another corner. "And anyway, we don't get anything at fucking Walmart because you're banned for talking to the cashiers about unionizing."

"Only because I wouldn't let you vandalize the store manager's car."

"Is slashing tires really vandalism?"

"I think you'll find, yes."

She shrugged. "They never would have caught me."

The microwave beeped, and she pulled out the bowls, just in time for him to plate the sandwiches. With the addition of cutlery and tea in heavy mugs, lunch was served. 

He wasn't fool enough to think she'd been distracted or deceived, and if he had been, the canny look she shot him would have disabused him of that notion. The woman knew him far too well. 

"So," she said. "What've you been up to this morning?" She dipped the corner of her sandwich in the soup. 

It was as good an opening as he could have hoped for.

"Messing around online," he said, digging in his back pocket. "Actually, I found something and did some practice translating, but I'm not too sure if I got it right."

"French? Your French is coming along."

"It's not as good as yours," he said, and she nodded in agreement. "Can you read it over for me? This is the original here. Something from a marriage contract in the middle ages."

 She narrowed her eyes at him. "You trying to get me to work for free?"

"Good point. What's your price?"

She leaned across the table and kissed him firmly on the lips. "There." She took the paper from his hand and unfolded it. "Mmm. Hmm. Awwwww."

"There's a part I didn't quite get," he said. "About the laundry?"

"Linen," she murmured. She'd majored in European history, and it still emerged from time to time. "Underthings. What you wore next to your skin underneath all the - " She flapped a hand. "Velvet and brocade, if you were rich, or wool if you were poor."

"Ye Olde Fruit of the Looms," he said.

"Mmm. But it was still expensive because everything was spun and dyed and woven and sewn by hand. Cheap clothing is a really modern concept." She looked at the contract again. "This is a legally binding promise that she'll have the things she needs, always."

"Practical," he said. 

"And kisses," she added. "It's a really sweet turn of phrase. Linen and kisses." She smiled over it for a moment, then looked up. "What was your translation?"

He dug in his pocket and passed it over. He tried to eat a little soup as she read it through, comparing it with the original, but had to put the spoon back in the bowl and hold his mug tightly.

She read it aloud. “I swear to protect you from poverty, to cover your back with linen and kisses, to watch over your sleep and bring you all the delights of this world as long as I walk it with you.”

Her eyes paused on the last line, spaced a little below the rest of his translation. She lifted her eyes. "This wasn't in the original."

He knew what it said without her having to read it aloud. "No," he said. "But it fits."

She looked at it again.

Jyn, will you marry me?

"I know we've only talked about it a few times," he said. "And I don't have a ring or anything. I thought you'd probably want to pick something out yourself. But I - " He gestured. "I read that. And it felt like a sign."

He didn't normally go in for signs. Neither did she. But reading that had felt like - oh, this. This is what I want. And she's who I want it with. 

She set the translation on the table and he looked at it, wondering if he'd been too hasty. If she was about to let him down gently, or not very gently, or - 

She got up, came around the table, and settled herself in his lap. His arms came around her instinctively, pulling her close.

"Oui," she said, smoothing her thumbs along the edge of his beard. "Need that translated?"

He let out all his breath in a rush and rested his forehead on hers. "Listillo," he muttered, and she laughed until his mouth covered hers. 

The soup and the sandwiches were stone cold by the time they got back to eating them, but he found he didn't mind. She smiled at him over her soup, clearly not minding it either. 

"So you'll cover my back with linen, will you," she said. 

"And kisses," he said, stretching over the table to press one to her lips. "Don't forget the kisses."

FINIS

[ozarkthedog]

Well, fucking excuse me, Ozzie! 😱😫❤️

Are my eyes deceiving me? Or is there a chance of a Fransisco Morales fic about… breath play? 😱😫😮‍💨

You know he is my baby, he is baby girl and I love, want and need him 🥺😌🤭❤️

Please, if you will, could you spare a little snippet? Or some of your thoughts on this? 🥺😌😱❤️

so I kinda blacked out and wrote this real quick after receiving your lovely ask. it's more asphyxiation than breath play but like what does it matter when Frankie's in charge? hope this'll suffice if i don't write an actual breath play fic this month! 💙

warnings: 18+ only. mdni. asphyxiation. brief smut.

Frankie always felt the urge. 

Whether it was planning his day, a travel route or driving, he wanted to be in control. No, he had to be the one calling the shots.

Sure, he indulged you at times. Thought it was cute having you climb on top of him and dig your nails into his chest as you rode him. Let you think you had all the power but he was always there to remind you who really was the one in charge. 

He surprises you one night, while you ride him, with a large hand wrapped around your throat. Your closed eyes flutter open in shock upon the heavy weight of his palm engulfing your neck. Your cunt pulses as his fingertips caress the skin at the base of your neck, his hand is so fucking big. 

Frankie chuckles darkly when your heartbeat escalates. The dull thrum pounds under his palm almost in time with the rise and fall of your hips as you impale yourself on his massive length.

You wrap a hand around his forearm to steady yourself as his free hand clutches tightly around your hip. Locked in place with no chance of escape. 

He smirks as a gasp falls from your lips when he shifts his hand around the delicate column of veins and tendons. He adjusts his grip and splays the large pad of his thumb over your carotid and gently squeezes.

Power surges through his body as he feels the artery throb beneath his thumb along with your cunt clenching down on him. 

“Feelin’ a bit woozy, babe?” He grits, licking his lips at the sight of your body quickly going pliant. He groans when your mouth bobs like a fish, all brainless and weak, no longer the one in control. Just the way he liked.

“Wonder if you’ll pass out before you cum?” He deviously grunts. The base of his cock grinds against your dripping sex coating those wiry hairs that encompass his girth with slick and making it embarrassingly easy to glide over your clit. “Don’t worry if you do. I’ll still pump you full of cum.”

[okiroash-03]

Hitotsume-sama ramble (& a bit rant) I am NOT normal about this guy.. putting it in read more bc I don't want you guys be blasted with this one LOLL

I could ramble so long about the intricacies of Mah's hitotsume as well as in comparison how the other artists working with eve handled him.. how I often feel like they don't really portray it as well as Mah does (which makes sense considering Mah was the one who created hitotsume,,)

You could say Hitotsume is a paradox, from a glance he has the silhouette of a tall hatted man.. but on a closer look he only has one eye and certainly no human head or hands, he appears in the corner of your eyes as some sort of onlooker... already, he's terrifying in concept.

Yet don't let hito's looks deceive you of the abundant of whimsy-ness he has!!! he can dance and pose CUTELY, his refined outfit is not for naught! Truly possessing a gentleman disposition, little snippets of giving kindness towards others.. as well as doing mundane things with no problem...

The brief moment of comfort in the unfamiliarity is quickly pulled away again, as hito here is prone to putting his damn eye close to the screen. He too, seems to have a knack of pulling morbid tricks !? for instance he cracked a person's head, filling it with all sorts of books, while his fellow smaller zingai friends danced.. (such a surreal scene in itself, I really love Mah's work) these however does not seem to actually scar the poor lad.. as if everything was all but a nightmare

For this reason hitotsume reminds me a lot about ghosts at it's core.. (funny considering his name possibly came from the yokai hitotsume-kozo) they are mischievous but not overly malicious, it was all scary for sure! later it would kinda just felt silly? spine-chilling? to think back on, you'd go about with your day thinking of that strange encounter you will never learn or to see more of for the rest of you life. Never making sense of the intentions and felt right when you think it's just more of the instinct of the hat man (I write this in experience of my own ghost encounters) which also seems to be in line of the adam by eve movie's ending

Hitotsume is near unpredictable, the moment you'd think he'd be scary he's sitting kinda... fruity-ish.. and when you think the other way... he decided to chill in a hallway and accidentally(?) spooking a person. I think its good to note that hitotsume never seem to make himself look intimidating on purpose.. in fact he often seem to be enjoyed or amused... happily dancing along or bopping his head. The "intimidating" part really just comes to how people regard towards his "eerie" appearance, the overall mysterious demeanor, hard to read face (therefore emotions too) and especially unknown origins... but when you're a fan of one-eye characters it all becomes too endearing its sickening!!! Grown ass zingai

I have always been fond of strange humanoids, it's easy for them to become my favorite,, but God.. it's really really bad when people use them as an excuse to portray shit freak stuff that doesn't feel like it came from a nonsensical creature... and more of the artist's own intentions from a bad place. Not only that, it also feeds to the idea of strange look + behavior = bad (not talking in a moral sense)

there are sooo many ways you can portray/show that a being is weird, unpredictable, and invokes fear without needing to go into such an awfully uncomfortable territory while still make it intriguing.. this is often the case when hitotsume is drawn on the hands of some peculiar artists, even ones who worked with eve... in some aspects, it's more of how it was drawn than the idea itself...

I'm sooo late to talk about this one. ever since the eve movie came out, I have always felt uncomfortable about the bouto/mob mv (which. is why I make my own derivative story!! only really keeping the malewife hitotsume, whom adopted a kid that hates him and a cat that also hates him since it's so silly LOL.... everything else Fucking sucks though)

Using hitotsume and a citizen (that looks similar to him) to criticize society objectifying humans while also having a pretty SHITTY approach to it is... Oh.... that's gore of my comfort character dude.... the biggest tragedy that it was directed by someone I do not like for their works.... most heartbreaking thing ever

[shrinkthisviolet]

Savimiris fic for the wip ask game?

Oooh well it's inspired by Imposters, your amazing fic wherein Thawne impersonates Barry, traps him somwhere, and teams up with Mirror Iris. It got me thinking of a possible idea where Savitar does that instead...and Savimiris has been an intriguing crackship idea of mine for a while, so I figured I'd throw that in the mix too. So they team up and decide to play the happy couple. I just...haven't decided what Savitar's goal yet.

In this fic, Mirror Iris was withholding affection from Barry leading up to this, and since she and Savitar are both on the same page, any affection between them will be consensual (though...it'll take a while until they actually do it as more than just a means to deceive Team Flash 😅). She also still has her arc from 6b about learning to make choices that aren't just serving Eva's mission, choosing for herself...feeling more like a person than an extension of Eva. Her growing love for Savitar, being not in line with Eva's plan and a form of passion unbefitting Eva's loyal soldier, shows this - the more Mirror Iris falls in love with Savitar, the more she feels human, the more she feels like her own person. Which is a double-edged sword (hooray for furthering her agency, but also...Eva's her creator/mother, and Mirror Iris loves her as much as she's capable of doing, breaking from her isn't going to be easy). At the very least, kissing Savitar doesn't feel as wrong as kissing Barry (which Mirror Iris avoided as often as possible, but ofc she couldn't always...still, she made sure it was infrequent, she much preferred withholding affection...and she couldn't possibly explain the crisis of conscience to Eva, so she excused it as "not cruel enough"). With her and Savitar, there's no deceit between them.

Savitar, for his part, isn't shy about the fact that he loved Iris. But what he's deceiving himself about is that he doesn't love Mirror Iris the same way. That's true at first, it's a ruse at first, but...he does fall for her genuinely as time goes on. Not as Iris...but as Mirror Iris. As who she really is - a version of Iris, who shares her memories, but who is nonetheless her own person with her own feelings and agency.

For the sake of convenience, Savitar doesn't have his scar here. He can't, for the sake of impersonation. Usually I wouldn't write Savitar as he is in canon without it (because I hate it, but it is canonically a part of him), but...although the Saviris scene hits hard when Iris is touching his scar, it can in theory work if he's scar-less.

And honestly if the writers can't bother explaining the scar that they only included to mark Savitar as evil/broken, I can't be bothered to include it 🤷‍♀️ unless I have an explanation to go along with it.

I also haven't decided yet if this is a villains win fic, though I'm leaning that way (the Saverb fic that @kitkatt0430 wrote has opened my eyes to the villains win potential, esp where Savitar's involved). I hate Iris suffering in the Mirrorverse arc, but...this is primarily a Savimiris fic, so...🤷‍♀️

And here's a snippet:

“You’ve always loved raving about your latest article, especially to me. Not hiding something from me, are you?” “No!” She forced another laugh, put her hand on his chest. “No, of course not. Don’t you trust me?” “Hmm.” He smirked, squeezed her hand just tight enough that she realized too late that she was supposed to wince. “Not bad. You might actually be able to keep them fooled.” She laughed in disbelief. “What?” “Please. You don’t think I know the real Iris when I see her?” She narrowed her eyes. “Come on, honey, you’re not thinking st—” “Cut the act.” His eyes flashed, startling her. “You’re not Iris…and I’m not Barry. But if you’re willing…I have a proposition for you.” “Not interested.” “Oh no, I think you’ll be very interested in this one. Whatever it is you need…you still need to stay under the radar, keep Team Pep-Talk from finding you out. As do I.” She frowned. “What do you need?” He smirked. “What do you need?” …well. Touché, she supposed.

WIP ask game!

[inafieldofdaisies]

Ship Moodboard and snippet | The Deceiver and The Wolf | Jacob x Mercedes

Mercedes was but a blur of white as she moved through the trees, eyes set on the shoreline they had passed on their way up what felt like an eternity ago. She could hear her name echoing behind her, followed by rustling and twigs snapping, signaling that just as suspected Jacob was catching up to her. Her laugh was victorious when she made it past the treeline and onto the river embankment without him interfering, Dolos' carefree bark urging her on as she aimed for the little boat ramp ahead of her. "Mercedes", Jacob called out, voice laced with annoyance when her feet hit the wooden dock and she discarded her flats at the base of it before sending him an innocent smile. "What?" Icy gaze settled on her, "I wasn't done with the lesson." "Well, I decided I had enough for today.", then she added under her breath, "Or for the whole week really. You suck at it, frankly." The last part she practically shouted, ensuring the jab would land. "So you just take off running without any direction?", he advanced down the path, his movements reminiscent of a predator, slow, controlled and with his sights set on one thing: her. Where most, especially his men would have flinched at his tone and shook like a leaf just at the idea of defying him, Mercedes thrived on pushing his buttons, seeing how far she could take things before he'd snap out of his emotionless soldier act.

One of her shoulders lifted up in a shrug as her fingers began untying her dress, each small step she blindly took back presumably getting her closer to the river, "You had your fun playing soldier and forcing me to come along. I think it's time I had mine." The laces of her corset were a challenge on its own with her eyes remaining on his and added another layer of seductiveness to the game set in motion. Dolos moved past Jacob, threading into the shallow parts of the blue-green water after releasing another happy bark, seeming completely oblivious to the tug of war happening between the two of them. Finally, the bodice gave way, allowing her to slip her dress down her legs until she was left down to a nude colored bralette and its matching set of panties. Despite the sight a couple of feet away from him, Jacob appeared as calm as the river where it meandered between the small islands. One quick look behind her confirmed she was at the end of the dock, so she came to a stop, sending another smile his way, "You can go back into the woods, Jacob. Don't stop on my behalf. I will be here when you're done playing caveman." "It's going to be freezing, sweetheart.", he retorted matter-of-factly, ignoring her remark. She suspected as much, but didn't let that stop her, erasing the remaining distance, her breath hitching at the biting temperature as she dove in. "Are you just going to stand there and watch? I do love an audience.", Mercedes asked the moment she broke the surface, finding Jacob standing like a statue where the ramp began, arms crossed over his chest, rifle dangling forgotten on his back.

A chuckle broke free at his lack of response and she turned, gliding further away from the dock, her body slowly getting used to the water she wished was a heated pool instead. The good old days. Oh, how I miss them. As she closed her eyes and leaned her head back, she could almost pretend she was at a resort, that a drink was waiting for her instead of a grumpy ginger that had decided to take her out 'hunting' at the crack of dawn staring daggers into her. In her mind, she counted down the seconds, wondering if he'd break his last record of holding out and just when she was starting to wonder if maybe this time around would be different and he would actually walk away, a splash sounded behind her, making her smirk, confirming she had won yet again. "It's freezing, I was right.", Jacob muttered as swam closer. "Is it?" "If your lips turn blue, I'm carrying you out, Mercedes, no arguments." She spun around, playfully splashing water in his direction before his arms encircled her waist, her hands coming to rest on his bare shoulders, "I'm sure you'd find a way to keep me warm."

"Ah, you two over there,", a voice resonated somewhere behind them, making her flinch, "keep it down, will ya, you're scaring the fish." The way Jacob's eyes darkened as he stared over her shoulder made her crane her neck around to sneak a peek at whoever had addressed them. "It's that godawful Deputy.", his words were low, promising more activities she wanted no part of. "Don't.", her fingers cupped his jaw, forcing his gaze to hers and away from the eyot's shoreline, "Let him fish. We're having fun, don't ruin it with another game of cat and mouse." Her regareded her in silence, and she could almost imagine him weighting his options - deciding between going after the only Deputy remaining free from Joseph's arrest party and who was more of an ally to Mercedes, or staying there with her. "It would be too easy anyway.", she tried again, hoping the words would create enough doubt, deter him from the idea of a hunt. His demeanor revealed little, prompting her to begin thinking of ways to warn Hartley of the incoming danger, then Jacob opened his mouth, shocking them both. "Fine. Just this once."

[kale-theteaqueen]

WIP Wednesday

I didn't forget this time 🫡

This one's easy to guess, so I'm just giving you dialogue snippets 😉

And also ... No guarantees any of these will be in the next round of updates. 👀

---

"I don't think I know anything anymore. I'm foolish, and mad."

"Don't say that, sweetheart. You're one of the smartest people I know."

"Perhaps once. But I know nothing, now. I don't know what's real or a figment of my mind. I don't know if I'm in a crowded room or alone. I don't know anyone, or myself. I don't even know you."

"You know me, Nesta. I told you I'd always be right here, and I meant it."

"But how do I know?"

"What do you mean?"

"How do I know you all didn't die on that battlefield and have just been here, keeping me company? Or that I haven't just made it all up? That all of this isn't just my mind deceiving me and I'm actually alone?"

"Do you feel alone?"

"I don't know. I don't know what I feel, or what to believe. For instance, how would I know for certain that your last act wasn't kissing me goodbye after my pitiful excuse of a fight against Hybern?"

"Would you like me to prove it?"

"What?"

"Would you like me to prove, sweetheart, that my last act wasn't some pathetic excuse of a kiss under the eyes of death?"

---

Stay tuned!

[snazzy-suit]

Incoming Krimbus Gift! (LLoG Edition)

Do your eyes deceive you? Nay I say! You got some LLoG writing heading your way! Before you get too excited, it isn't a complete chapter (yet!), but I thought I'd share another sneak peek before 2023 ended, seeing as the last time I posted anything was... *checks archive* Three years ago? Cripes.

Anyway, I've had a few people DM'ing me earlier this year (politely) asking if I plan to do any more writing for the LLoG AU. I told at least one of them I hoped to start writing again late summer, and I did exactly that! I've been working away at the "Hey! Creatures!" arc off and on for the past few months and have made a lot of progress.

Too much progress.

"The hell does 'too much progress' mean?" you may ask. Well. You know how "Hey! Creatures!" was only supposed to be four chapters?

It's eight chapters now.

EIGHT.

So, those that have stuck around for the LLoG AU, waiting for one more chapter, have actually been waiting for FIVE more chapters. Needless to say, things have gotten out of hand. I'm hoping to trim things down during editing, but I'm not very optimistic ^^'

Here's what it looks like so far:

Chapter 5.4 - Draft Complete. Undergoing Edits.

Chapter 5.5 - Draft Complete. Undergoing Edits.

Chapter 5.6 - Draft 90% Complete.

Chapter 5.7 - Draft 40% Complete

Chapter 5.8 - Draft Complete. Awaiting Review.

Madness. Absolute madness. But, with all the re-writes this sucker has undergone, it's an improvement. My goal (my Writer's New Year's Resolution, if you will) is to be finished and ready to post by March 2024.

ANYWAY.

I have scheduled a preview of the epilogue (Chapter 5.8) to post tomorrow. Why the epilogue? It's the least susceptible to change, for one. Also, the part I'm showing is just a fun little reunion scene set immediately after Luigi completes his mission. It's told from E. Gadd's PoV, and I've found him weirdly fun to write. Story spoilers are minor at best (things that won't really have any meaning out of context), but feel free to skip it if you rather go into the final arc completely blind.

TL;DR

I'm posting a snippet of the "Hey! Creatures!" epilogue tomorrow. It has minor out of context spoilers. Read it or don't. Mer Krimbus.

[mycryptidisqueererthanyours]

WIP progress update

Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo, I thought I would be done by now. I though, 'oh, this'll be cute. A little fucked up because I live for messed up character dynamics but short and sweet.' I underestimated the task I chose to subject myself to.

I have working on this for approximately 2 months. My Google document is now 29 pages long. I want to die /j

And I feel bad for the like five people who saw and liked my other post about my upcoming fic as this taking forever (I feel worse for my followers on Reddit; I've had a few ideas for things but nothing I've started properly writing out, poor sods). So, I'll be including another couple of snippets, the fanfic's title and a possible AU idea.

The fanfic itself is called A Star Is Just A Black Hole Waiting To Happen ([Redacted] x Recovering!Yandere) and it is a yan x yan pairing.

Here are a few more snippets to tide anyone over that actually wants to read this lol

---------

I hacked Teo’s Tesla and drove it into Lake Bluemoss.

Bullshit.

‘I did. Hold on…’ He fished his phone out his pocket and, after a few moments of inaudible muttering and tapping away, he turned it so they could see. Sure enough, displayed proudly on the screen was a picture of a half-submerged car in a lake, taken from relatively far away, with what looked suspiciously like a surprisingly panicked Teo in the background. ‘Told you,’ he crowed, triumphantly. 

----------

They reached up and carefully carded calloused fingers through his hair, revealing dark roots peeking through. Your poor hair. It must be fried to Hell and back. Please tell me you use coconut oil or-. Aster’s heart thundered in their throat, as [Redacted] leaned into the sensation, eyes fluttering shut. He gently gripped their wrist, holding them there. A silent plea for them to stay. A plea they couldn’t bring themself to refuse. Instead, all they could do was huff in amusement. Something. You really are like an overgrown cat, you know that? He said nothing, only nuzzling into them further.

And then suddenly, he pitched forward. Only for you. He burrowed themself against their shoulder, breath ghosting against their neck. Only ever f’you.

They leaned their head against his, fingers idly toying with the baby hairs on the nape of his neck. I know. I know.

---------

How did you want to crush her? He goaded. He was greedy. He needed to hear this.

Their lips curled in displeasure and, in the low gloom, their grimace looked like it was filled with blood-rimmed teeth.

‘I wanted to throttle her. Maybe slam her head into the fucking concrete.’ There was something bright and brilliant and vicious in their eyes, blazing like a supernova, as their nails dug into his cardigan. Spittle and acid pooled in their mouth. Before their eyes widened with realisation and they composed themself again. They bowed their head to hide their face, as they felt it heat up and crumple in embarrassment. Horror and shame curled in their stomach at their sudden outburst. ‘Sorry.’ (fix)

Don’t apologise, he soothed. His tone was agonisingly warm and promised patience as dauntless and unending as the void. It made Aster’s head hurt. Y’have nothing to apologise f’r. You know I would do the same for you.

(They stared at his jumper, the cable knit pattern suddenly deeply fascinating. Knitting had never made sense to them. Nor had he.

-----------

And an AU idea: I'm thinking of writing a Magnus Archives!AU, with [Redacted] being an avatar of the Spiral. I was originally thinking the Web, given his manipulative tendencies and canonical liking of spiders, but I think the Spiral would be more in line with canon abilities. These include distorting his appearance, the world around him and the overall narrative. He doesn't merely manipulate, he deceives. So, it seems like a better fit but feel free to disagree. Instead, maybe he can be deeply marked by the Web (and possibly the Eye, given his whole thing for surveillance cameras and keeping constant tabs on Angel) as a little treat :)

I am really sorry this is taking way longer than I expected. I hope this doesn't disappoint anyone when it comes out, even if it is just because of wait time alone lol Or shitty writing. More likely shitty writing.

[sugarcherriess]

Requested here

Strangers to Lovers with Chanhee:

cw - fluff, mc and chanhee instantly trust each other way too much considering they’re strangers, flirting with a cafe worker on duty (don’t unless you know them and they’re okay with it. They don’t get paid enough to spend their time like this)

Your favourite spot in the entire city (or the places you’ve explored in the city) has always been a quaint little cafe downtown

It’s always the perfect balance between packed and deserted

The business booms yet there’s never an out-of-hand rush going on

Your favourite seat is the one near the far off window which allows you to see the view outside the cafe as well as all the workings inside

It also keeps you far away from any noise that may disturb your work or peace– whatever you’re there for on the particular day.

One thing you’re consistently there for is that one cute staff member with the pretty smile who always has something pink on him

Whether that be an accessory or a part of his outfit

His damn smile is so contagious that you could be fourteen feet away from him and still smile watching him interact with the customers

You can’t even hear what he’s saying

And it’s a shame really that you never get him to attend to you. Ever.

You spent days, weeks, months, sighing in sadness because he seemed to get every table in the cafe BUT yours.

Maybe it was because you were a regular? They already had you attached to the business so they didn’t feel the need to waste their charming point on you to get you interested?

Or maybe it was where you were sat. Perhaps your area didn’t get covered by the pretty staff person’s domain?

You chose to believe the latter

And promptly decided to work on it

Today you sat smack in the middle of the cafe

Right in the adorable server’s line of sight

Who was wearing the softest looking cream sweater today,

His hair the shade of the emerging winter's clouds

And his pretty hands–

Oh god his hands

Were the actually sparkling or was it just your eyes deceiving you–

“Hello, I’m Chanhee! What can I get started for you today?”

He starts with the most cheerful tone you’ve heard all week.

Maybe your entire life.

“Chanhee…”

Your tongue makes itself comfortable with the rolling of his name in your mouth

Good lord

“I would tell you our house specials your reputation tells me I don’t really have to,” he giggles

“My… reputation?”

Honestly, you’re too mesmerised by his captivating eyes to pay attention to any implications his sentence has

“Um… I think I worded that wrong,”

His nervous laugh is even more sweet than his actual one

“I meant since you’re a known regular, you must already know all the house specials,”

“What if i want you to tell me all of them anyway?”

“Why would you wanna hear something you already know,”

“Why wouldn’t anybody wanna keep a pretty boy like you busy with them for as long as possible?”

“I-“

Chanhee stammers for the first time in his carreer

“Are you flirting with the staff?”

“I don’t know. Is the staff interested?”

Your eyes bore into his like you’re mapping out his entire existence

As if you can everything beyond his physicality

He quickly evades any eye contact

A blush emerging from his neck peaking through his sweater, all the way to his cheeks

“Tell me what you’ll eat and I’ll give you the answer,”

With his hands twiddling with his notepad and pen, he begins to list all the house specials and customer favourites on their menu

All of which, as he assumed, you already knew

And you order the same thing you do every time

“Ah! I knew it–“

He slaps his hand to his mouth

But the damage is done

“Knew what?” You inquire

It takes a tonne of courage from the tall boy in front of you to explain the snippet of what he accidentally exposed

“We uh…”

He cleans his throat to conquer some of the embarrassment

You change your posture to help him feel unscrutinised

Putting your elbows on the table, you intertwine your fingers and rest your chin on them

“Go on,”

You’re not trying to come off as intimidating or anything

Its just that he’s so… interesting. And so pretty to look at

You can’t help but play with him

“Ah! Now you’re embarrassing me!!”

He whines

You immediately chuckle at his behaviour

Consistently adorable

“I’m not trying to I promise,” you reassure him

Chanhee huffs and starts his explanation

One that you find completely endearing

“You were actually one of our very first customers when we started this cafe and then you came every week afterwards. You’re kind of a big deal in our kitchens. We always know you’ve come when we see your order,”

“I always keep and eye on you when you work long nights,”

Oh so this is the reputation he really meant

“Ah, well. It’s my favourite place to be. I love the food and the service,”

You look at him watching you expectantly

“And observing you,”

Chanhee lowers his head and laughs again

“Maybe I should tell everyone else to never feed to anything sweet?”

“Why?”

“Maybe the lack of sugar will control your sweet talk,”

You roll your eyes at his raised brows, the quip making you shake your head

“Regardless, thank you guys for keeping an eye out for me. I appreciate it. Sometimes I do get carried away,”

Chanhee puts a hand on his hip before responding

“Then I guess I should thank everyone for observing me,”

“I never said everyone observed you,” you tease

“And I never said we kept an eye out,” he teases right back

While also inadvertently giving you the answer that you needed

That he would very much like to reciprocate you flirting

Which he is already doing

“Well,” he says clicking his pen shut, “I’ll get your order started,”

“Maybe you can join me? For a little while,”

He’s about to talk before you cut him off

“If you can of course. I don’t want to get you in any trouble,”

You would sheepishly defend your request

“You should be more concerned about whether I want to,” he teases, putting both his palms on the table and leaning towards you

This makes you stammer now, embarrassed about missing that crucial point

“I-I’m sorry I thought-“

Chanhee stands back straight and laughs louder than he did all day

“You’re so easy to scare! And here I thought you were the intimidating one,”

You lean back and cross your arms on your chest

Classic “I’m not doing this anymore” stance

Chanhee laughs even harder at your demeanour

If that was even possible

“C’mon! Don’t be like that!”

You refuse to stop pouting

“Okay, okay, I’m sorryyyy. Please don’t be mad, I’ll get you the best of the house!”

“Fine,” you sigh

Unable to hold you endeared smile

“I’ll be right back!” Chanhee promises

Leaving with a skip in his step.

True to his words he comes back five minutes later with your order and an additional treat

As if he wasn’t a treat enough

You two spend the rest of the evening talking about your lives

You both discuss your childhoods, your happy memories

He shares his interests with you and you tell him what inspires you

You two even exchange your numbers

Time moves by so quickly that before you know, it’s time for them to close

“You know,”

Chanhee interrupts you while you gather your belongings

“The staff at the back was calling this a date,”

“You did skip work to gossip with me all evening,” you sass him

He chuckles but is unable to look at you

“Would you… call it one?”

He shyly asks, looking at you through his lashes

“Depends. If I do will I get a second one?”

He chuckles in relief that he wasn’t reading too much into things

That you also want more than a friendship with him

“I can promise you a second one if you tell me your name,”

And it just clicks then that you never even told him the most important part about yourself

And then–

“If you don’t even know my name, what did you save my number as?”

“I’ll let you know on the third date,”

He giggles at your disbelief

And no matter how much you pester him as he walks you home

He just doesn’t let up

(It’s “future loml💘💘”)

(He’s too embarrassed to say bc it’s cheesy as hell)

(Also he’s a LIAR and doesn’t tell you until you move in together and you call his phone while making dinner together one night)

(Best believe, you never let him live it down)

[meaninglessblah-writes]

just read through your WIP list and loved so many of them, it's a delight - "homework" stood out to me, as did "appearances can be deceiving" and "stains" and "walk a mile" and... fuck, so many others. gonna be obsessing over those concepts for days if not weeks

This is a very late response, but I appreciate your prompt very much. And I hope you enjoy these snippets ❤️

Homework

“Is there a reason you put me, a complete stranger, down as your emergency contact?” Bruce probes, gentler than he expects. At their feet, pigeons pick eagerly at what remains of Tim's lunch, fighting over bread crusts. Tim looks down at his shoes, jaw tight and lips pursed. The bruise swelling his left eyelid closed looks all the more violent against his pallor.  Just when Bruce thinks the line of interrogation is a lost cause, the teen mumbles, “I didn’t have anyone else to call.”�� Bruce opens his mouth to ask about parents, or relatives, but closes it at the tearful look in Tim’s eyes. He looks away before Bruce can get a proper look, sniffing inconspicuously.  “It’s fine, you can leave now. You don’t have to be responsible for me. You’ve done enough.” 

Appearances Can Be Deceiving

It’s when Jason shoves him up against a brick wall, a pipe digging into Dick’s back as their lips crash together, that Dick realises this goes beyond playful. The way Jason kisses him is ravenous, all-consuming. Dick can’t keep up with his ferocity, blindsided, and after a moment Jason pulls back.  His lips shine in the moonlight, teeth peeking out in a grin that’s all fondness and mischief. Dick reels, staring dumbly as Jason huffs a laugh. He wonders when the last time he saw Jason smile — actually smile — was.  “Did a thug hit you in the head, old man?” he teases, and looks nervous after a moment, when Dick can’t summon an answer from his stupefied brain. Dick forces a deep laugh past his lips, the sound more choked and less natural than he’d like.

Stains

DON'T TALK TO ME. The neat font stamped across his left cheekbone was done at Dick’s request. An attempt at preventing further deaths on his behalf.  It had been a client, some cartel magnate in the south, who’d taken a liking to Slade’s shiny new apprentice during a contract briefing. Dick had followed his instructions to the letter, shadowing Slade, letting him do the negotiating. Remaining unspoken unless Slade indicated he wanted something specific from him.  Dick had kept his eyes away from their client, but it was a lost cause from the start. The guy was obsessed, and all the more provoked by Dick’s stoic ignorance. He almost felt bad for the magnate, for the death warrant he signed with every coaxing word that fell from his lips.  Dick had kept very still, had been sure not to react to his innuendos and sweet-talking charms. Had kept his expression plain and disinterested.  It wasn’t enough to stop Slade putting a sword through the magnate's tongue.

Walk A Mile

Damian runs his thumbs over the raised ridges on his wrists again, mute. There's an unease simmering in his gut, but he can't tell if that's his own anxiety, or the effects of taking medication on an empty stomach. He wonders if Drake feels like this always, in a perpetual state of discomfort. He's all the more impressed by the man's stoic demeanour, and all the more disappointed that he's carried this burden alone for so long. The trill of the nearby cell left unattended on the coffee table spurs him to hastily pull down the long, frayed sleeves of Drake's— of his sweatshirt. The caller ID reads as unknown, so Damian answers with an uncertain, "Hello?" "Damian?" the familiar voice on the other end asks, and the relief is immediate. "Richard," he breathes, shoulders unspooling. They hitch right back up to his ears at Dick's flat, "No, actually, it's Tim."

Prompt me again!

[littlemisspascal]

Death and an Angel part 14.5

Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary:  And it’s unbelievable, truly, that he’s found someone who makes him feel as though he’s flying and falling simultaneously. 

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,701

Warnings: angst, dialogue heavy, language, angst, Violence, plot plot plot, did I mention angst? Cuz it’s here

Author Note: Texas weather is no laughing matter and never have I hated snow more than these last few days. This is definitely more of a transition segment so I wrote shorter snippets as a result, but there is some serious plot development nevertheless. The response to last chapter was so amazing I can’t thank everyone enough for all the love and support 💖💖💖

Links to Part 1 and Part 14 and Part 15

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

Ahsoka hijacks the Razor Crest as soon as Din teleports her aboard the ship. She pushes Din out of the cockpit, refusing to let him so much as glimpse the coordinates of the destination she inputs into the nav computer. The Oracle hadn’t been kidding when she said she didn’t trust him going alone to rescue his soulmate.

Bo-Katan hadn’t been phased by Ahsoka’s arrival, adapting to her presence with the same ease as a duck to water. However, Din couldn’t help noticing the moment her mask of cool indifference slipped when Ahsoka asked the reaper to stay in the cockpit with her, claiming they had important matters to discuss. 

Din climbs down the ladder into the hull, recognizing that the conversation about to ensue is not one he needs to be involved in. Fingers twitching restlessly, he commits himself to checking each of the weapons in his armory, sharpening his vibroblades and loading a set of whistling birds into his vambrace. He’d made a promise to Ahsoka against killing Moff Gideon, but he’d made no vow against scarring the Seraph beyond recognition.

When Din’s finished with him, Gideon will be a warning to the rest of the galaxy what happens if you steal from Death. 

He stills at the thrum of satisfaction that runs through his body at the thought of pressing Gideon’s eyeballs out with his thumbs. The darkness within him has grown stronger since he killed Hess and it’s becoming an increasingly harder challenge denying its craving for bloodshed. If not for Ahsoka’s intervention, he would have reaped Xi’an’s soul, breaking another sacred rule. He should feel grateful, but the darkness expresses annoyance instead, upset to have been denied its kill. 

There is a thought that has been plaguing the back of his mind, shackled in the same corner as his other doubts and regrets. He once had iron control over his powers and emotions, but now he’s holding onto his human façade by a mere thread. So slowly he hadn’t even been aware it was happening, his darkness has usurped his morality. 

He’s meant to be a neutral entity, but when he looks at his reflection in the fresher mirror all he sees is a weapon. 

Obsidian orbs have replaced brown eyes. Flawless tan skin has become dissected by lines of ink that once were blue veins. 

Darkness is corrupting him from the inside out, making him a slave to the power he once mastered.

And he doesn’t have a fucking clue how to stop it. 

~~

Bo-Katan joins him in the hull an hour later. She doesn’t say anything , just leans against the wall across from him, and Din continues cleaning the barrel of his amban rifle as if he doesn’t see her. 

The silence isn’t tense or uncomfortable, but he feels her gaze trying to penetrate his helmet. He knows the reaper well-enough to tell there is a question on her mind, but her hesitance to voice it unsettles him. Bo-Katan rarely holds her tongue around him, preferring blunt honesty over sugarcoating, which means whatever is on her mind must be serious. 

He bites back a sigh when she starts restlessly shifting in place and pauses his task. “Ahsoka told you,” he says at last.

“That Moff Gideon fucked with our lives?” Bo-Katan snorts humorlessly. “Yeah, she showed me everything.”

“I’m sorry about your sister.”

“Me too. But it’s...good not being in the dark anymore. I needed to hear the truth,” she replies stoically, but the pointless adjustment of her headband betrays her internal strife. There is a moment of pause before she looks at him again. “I heard about your promise,” she says, and it’s not really a question, except that it is.

Din’s fingers tighten around the rifle. “Did she make you swear the same one?”

“No.” Bo-Katan shakes her head. “No, she didn’t.”

He’s not surprised by the answer. He actually thinks he should have expected it, considering the universe has always held him to a stricter standard than other entities. 

“Ahsoka made it clear to me that this is something between you, Gideon, and your angel alone. I cannot interfere just like you cannot kill him.”

There is bitter resignation in her tone. He recognizes it because he felt the same when he made his promise to Ahsoka. No one likes being told no when they want something. But this—knowing with absolute certainty Gideon is the one responsible for hurting their loved ones and being told you can’t do anything to avenge them? This is the kind of pain that will linger for years to come as an ache in their bones and a scar over their hearts.

It isn’t fair. But Din’s lived long enough to know the universe never intended life to be that way.

“Can I ask you a favor?” Bo-Katan asks, pulling him out of his thoughts.

He blinks at her, realizing this is the question she’d been withholding since she came down the ladder. Never has she asked him a request before. “What is it?”

“You must separate Gideon from the Darksaber,” she answers, expression one of absolute seriousness. “The Armorer warned my people if the Lightsaber was ever mishandled, it would turn against the wielder by transforming into the Darksaber. Instead of empowering you, it deceives you. Fills your head with delusions until you lose your grip on reality entirely.”

“And you want to spare Gideon’s sanity?” Din asks slowly.

“Of course not. The son of a bitch deserves to be punished for his crimes. Even if I did want to,” her lips curl into a snarl at the thought, “there’s no way of undoing the damage done to his mind. What I want is for the weapon to be returned to the Armorer. She’s the only one who can properly dispose of it.”

“Right,” he agrees quietly. Anything that comes out of the Armorer’s forge is built to last the length of eternity. He could toss the Darksaber into the center of a sun and it’d remain whole and unaffected, waiting to twist the mind of the next wielder. Nodding his head, he assures her, “I’ll take care of it, even if I have to cut off his hands.”

“Good.”

~~

Din paces the length of the hull, each thud of his boots making contact with the metal floor blends with the low hum of the engines. Usually he’d ignore the creaks and groans of his home, but the metallic symphony is the only thing capable of drowning out the thoughts in his head urging him to storm the cockpit and retake control from Ahsoka.

“Pacing isn’t going to make us arrive any quicker,” Bo-Katan tells him, not even bothering to open her eyes as she lounges atop one of his storage crates. “Ahsoka said it will be another hour at least.”

He has a retort ready on his tongue when a voice calls out his name from somewhere beyond the Razor Crest.

“Din!”

Din freezes in place as unexpected, heart-wrenching hope slices through his chest. He knows that voice. It’s his favorite in all the galaxy.

“Death?” Bo-Katan asks, concerned by his stillness. “What’s wrong?”

He tentatively reaches out towards the bond, giving it the slightest of tugs. When he feels the distant flicker of a reaction on the other end from his angel he nearly forgets how to breathe.

“The bond,” he murmurs, voice thick with awe and relief. “I can feel it again.”

Longing fills his chest where the hollowness used to reside now that the invisible block separating them is gone. It wraps around his heart, squeezing so tightly he nearly falls to his knees. Din pulls at the bond again on impulse, possessed by the all-consuming need to see her, to have her at his side where she’ll be safe.

The bond protests the harsh treatment, too weak to physically bring them together across the vast distance separating them. He snarls a curse under his breath, hating being helpless to protect her. It’s unfair, he finds himself thinking for a second time. Unfair how it hurts more now being able to feel her presence compared to when he couldn’t at all.

A paper airplane flickers into existence on the horizon of his mind, flying straight into his hand when he reaches out for it. I can’t leave this place. Not yet, the note says. The words themselves are unsettling, but it’s the strength of the emotions she’s attached that has him reeling with shock. For one crazy, electrifying moment he thinks he’s passed onto the afterlife. 

Another note arrives. I miss you, Din. I want to see you so much it hurts. And it’s unbelievable, truly, that he’s found someone who makes him feel as though he’s flying and falling simultaneously. 

As he sends a message of his own, never has he been more certain that if anyone can put an end to the darkness inside of him—it’s her.

~~

“The Moff is an expert when it comes to defensive warding,” Ahsoka says as the three of them stand looking up at a canyon wall that extends in either direction as far as their eyes can see. “But even he can’t hide from my sight.”

Din scuffs at the salt-covered ground with his boot, still coming to terms with the fact all this time Gideon’s been hiding out on Crait of all planets. As much as he wants to believe Ahsoka’s right, his powers can’t detect even the barest hint of the Seraph’s presence.  

Bo-Katan’s eyebrows arch with skepticism. “You’re sure this is the right place? It’s kind of remote.”

“Perfect for building an army,” Ahsoka replies without missing a beat.

Din exchanges a look with his reaper, realizing this is the first time either of them are hearing about this. 

“Gideon has an army?” he asks. “Who—”

“Mercenaries,” she interrupts, turning around to face them. Her blue eyes are distant and cloudy, entranced by a vision. “When I break the warding, all but one will meet the end of their mortal lives attempting to overpower us.”

“All but one? I don’t think so.” Bo-Katan rests her hands deliberately on her blaster pistols. “Anyone who works for Gideon is an enemy in my book.”

“Migs Mayfeld is not to be harmed.” There is steel in Ahsoka’s voice as she blinks back into the present moment.

Din nudges Bo-Katan with his arm when it looks like she wants to continue arguing. The reaper huffs a quiet breath of annoyance, but eventually jerks her head in the tiniest nod of compliance. 

Ahsoka grabs her twin sabers from her belt and ignites their blue blades. She handles her weapons with deadly grace, altering her appearance from peaceful Oracle to fierce and cunning warrior. Turning back to the canyon wall, her gaze trails over the red-brown rocks only to pause and narrow at seemingly random points.

Bo-Katan tries and fails to follow her line of vision. “What are you—”

The Oracle leaps into the air with surprising agility, lashing out with her sabers against the rock. Blinding light bursts forth from the point of collision followed by a flickering glimpse of a gigantic metal door. 

“—looking at,” Bo-Katan finishes quietly, watching Ahsoka swing herself higher to attack another portion of the canyon wall where the next segment of warding is hidden. 

There is something undeniably satisfying about seeing the door materialize as the wardings cloaking it are destroyed. Every precise strike of Ahsoka’s sabers brings Din one step closer to reuniting with his soulmate.

As if spurred by the mere thought of her, fear ripples across the bond like a gust of icy wind, stopping his heart cold. His angel is terrified. Din reaches out as far as the bond will allow in its fragile state, trying to get her attention by pulling at it and shouting her name, but none of his attempts breach the storm of panic. 

“She needs me,” he mutters to himself, stepping forward with clenched fists. His vision narrows until all he can see is the door in front of him, an obstacle that must be dealt with. “She needs my help.”

“Wait,” Bo-Katan calls out, but her voice sounds as if it’s coming from thousands of miles away. “Ahsoka isn’t finished with the warding yet!”

If he were capable of rational thought in that moment, he would have heeded her warning. As it is, he summons his power into the palm of his hand, the darkness inside of him crowing in wicked delight. He winds his arm back, preparing to slam his fist against the door, only for a whipcord to wrap around his wrist with an audible zip. 

He’s pulled backwards onto the ground, breath knocked from his lungs as he lands with a heavy thud. Bo-Katan appears not a second later and pins him in place by straddling his waist. The darkness is demanding he push her aside, knowing with absolute certainty the reaper is no match against him, and it takes all his strength to wrestle the urge under control. 

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” She glares at him, eyes resembling green flames eager to incinerate him.

“I—” he rasps, breathing heavily. His hand starts trembling, a burning itch under his skin. “I can feel her fear. She needs me.”

Bo-Katan blows out a long, frustrated breath. “Well, shit.” She jostles him then, forcing his head to momentarily clear as his helmet smacks the ground. “Look, soulmates are soulmates for a reason, right? I heard it’s like being two halves of the same whole. So if your soulmate is anything like you, she’s not going to give up without a fight. You have to trust she can take care of herself right now. That she’ll be fine.”

Din bristles. Trust is not the issue here. There is no one he trusts more than his angel—not Bo-Katan, not Ahsoka, not even Kuiil. The issue is he’s being asked to deny the instinct to shield her from danger which is woven into every cell of his being.

“She’ll be fine.” The words come out sounding sharp around the edges, cutting his tongue like shrapnel. “Everything will be fine.”

Bo-Katan disconnects the whipcord and rises to full height, apparently satisfied by his agreement. Din pushes himself onto his feet at a slower pace, his hand still shaking as if it's electric. He looks down at it, noticing for the first time the flesh is gone, replaced entirely by shadow. His expression tightens as he observes the change, realizing the black tendrils are slowly creeping up towards his wrist. 

An alarm rings out, reverberating off the canyon walls like an explosion. Din’s gaze snaps up just as Ahsoka lands on the ground in a defensive crouch. Now that it's been fully unveiled, the door bears a striking resemblance to ones he’s seen at military fortresses across the galaxy, ridiculously massive to intimidate enemies and impenetrable from outside attacks. It makes sense, he thinks with a scoff, someone as power-hungry as Gideon claiming an abandoned base as their lair. Without the wardings, Din is able to detect the massive number of souls gathering on the other side, resembling vermin crawling over one another in their haste to arm themselves. 

He searches for his angel’s soul, even just a glimpse of her bright light, only for his powers to instead encounter a massive cloud of dark, negatively-charged energy within a distant corner of the underground tunnel system. It fills an entire room, prohibiting him from sensing if anyone is inside. There is something strangely familiar about the energy, like he’s encountered its essence before, but he can’t recall the specifics of when or where. 

“It’s time.” 

Ahsoka’s voice reels his focus back to his physical surroundings. He notices the way her grip on her sabers tightens in anticipation and out of the corner of his eye Bo-Katan withdraws her blasters from their holsters.

The bottom of the door begins to raise with an earsplitting groan, but the mercenaries only wait the minimum amount of time it takes to pass under without hitting their heads to start charging forward. 

Every mortal has a beginning and an end just like everything else in the galaxy. These mercenaries are no exceptions, having long sealed their fates when they agreed to accept Gideon’s payment. So when Din’s shadowy hand phases through a man’s chest and tears his heart out of its cavity, staining the white salt under their feet crimson as blood bursts from the vacant hole, Din tells himself he’s simply fulfilling destiny. 

He repeats it when he discharges an assault of whistling birds, each one puncturing the throats of each target they encounter with a shrill warcry. And also when he rips a devaronian’s horn out of his head, a fragment of skull and bits of brain matter still gruesomely attached. 

Again and again, with each permanently silenced voice and every shattered fragile bone, destiny is fulfilled. 

~~

Din would be lying if he said he’s never wondered what it would be like to die. To pass on from this world into a new realm for him to explore. He’s imagined the idyllic afterlife mortals have written poems and novels about, describing it as a blissful safe haven where sorrow and tragedy have no definition because they do not exist. He’s familiar with their opinions of damnation’s appearance, too, as an infernal place of fire and brimstone and screaming.

They were wrong about that.

Damnation is not a distant hell. It is found in an underground lair on Crait. 

Instead of flames and sulfur, a Cupid’s blood is split and a soulmate bond is snapped in half. 

Instead of screaming, a madman laughs.

“I’ve waited so long for this moment,” Gideon says through his chuckles, hauling himself onto his feet. His voice is an abrasive rasp, as if he’s shredded his vocal cords by screaming. “I’ve had to be patient, wait to find your weakness so I could catch your attention. It’s a shame, really, she had to be the one you fell for. She was quite the little spitfire.”

Din stares at his soulmate’s motionless body, frozen in place. Please, he pulls at his severed half of the bond, resolutely ignoring how cold it feels. Open your eyes, angel. Don’t leave me. Please.

There is no response. Just heartbreaking silence.

“I sense your anger, your hurt, and grief. Those are mortal emotions.” The Seraph grimaces in disgust, then lets out a low hiss when he agitates the wounds on his face. “By living amongst their kind you’ve forgotten your true potential. You are not their equal, Death. You are their superior. Immortals are meant to be better than them. To rule over every aspect of their pitiful lives.”

“I don’t want to rule anyone,” Din says, dragging his eyes away from his angel to glare at Gideon. Both his hands begin to shake as his mind plunges into a gaping abyss of remorse and despair. “I just want a life with her.”

“Even dead, she continues to blind you.”

Din snarls viciously in response. His control is pushed closer to the brink, holding on by mere fingertips, and darkness engulfs the entire room as a result. 

The glow of the Darksaber persists, reflecting off his beskar and Gideon’s armor. It reminds him of moonlight, and he thinks for all that Bo-Katan warned him about the weapon’s sinful qualities, she did not mention its beauty. Even Ahsoka’s vision had failed to truly capture its radiance, just as a holovid can never compete with a face-to-face conversation. 

His powers are drawn to the Darksaber. The energy it emits matches the one encountered earlier when searching the tunnels for his angel’s aura. This close, there is no ignoring its familiarity, not when his brain feels seconds away from exploding. 

“I used to believe love conquers all,” Gideon prattles on, seemingly oblivious to Din’s torment. “I chose it as the Cupid motto because I thought there was nothing mortals cared more about than the health and happiness of their loved ones. Only after our fateful encounter did the Lightsaber reveal to me the truth.”

Lightsaber? Din’s head jerks up to stare at him, biting back a wince when the throbbing in the back of his mind intensifies at the movement. Does Gideon not realize the weapon has transformed? 

By connecting Ahsoka’s claim that Gideon didn’t fully understand the consequence of corrupting the Lightsaber with Bo-Katan’s explanation that the Darksaber deceives its wielder, the answer is an obvious one: he doesn’t.

Gideon mistakes Din’s confusion for interest and his lips slowly curl into a smile. “Mors aeterna. It means—”

“Death is eternal.” The translation slips unbiddenly from Din’s lips before he even realizes his mouth has opened.

“There is no one more feared or respected than you. But for what reason? What have you done to earn your reputation?” Gideon demands, spit flying as his anger flares. “You are no more than the universe’s favorite puppet. Mindlessly obedient to its every demand.” 

Hearing the truth always hurts, but hearing it from Gideon is especially torturous. Din’s creed to the universe has dictated his actions the entirety of his existence. He never fought against its orders, never thought of his own desires as more important than what it wanted.

Until he matched with his soulmate. She changed his priorities and shifted the center of his entire world by revealing to him even Death could experience love. 

There had been no hesitation when he broke his creed for her.

And he doesn’t hesitate breaking Ahsoka’s promise now.

“I just murdered your soulmate right in front of you and you do nothing. Did you ever love her at all?”

“I do.”

Din summons every trace of power and darkness he possesses and combines them together within his core—a volatile, pulsating mass of pure chaos. His beskar armor starts to crack and chip away, unable to withstand the increasing pressure. 

He thinks of his angel’s smiling face, the sound of her laughter, how bright her soul shines, and he thinks all those things are gone now. Not even a chance to say goodbye.

“More than anything.”

And Death lets go.

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[theyscreamjade]

Katsuki Bakugo

Masterlist

Fluff: 🤍 Smut: 🖤 Angst: 💙 Crack: 💛

Author’s Favorite: ✨

You’re Mine

Kasuki BakugoX Fem!Reader: After a picture gone viral and a bad breakup, Sparks reignite when Bakugo and Reader finally sees each other after a month. 🖤✨

Love At First Sight

GN S/O!: A scenario of how you’d meet Izuku, Shoto and Bakugo.🤍

Short S/O

A headcannon of Izuku, Shoto, Bakugo, Kirishima and Denki with a short S/O.🤍

Black S/O Thanksgiving

A headcannon of basically random things that happens at a normal thanksgiving 🤍💛✨

S/O with really (really) long hair

A headcannon of the boys with a lover with really (really) long hair.🤍💛

S/O With A Eating Disorder

A Headcannon of a S/O with a eating disorder. 💙🤍

Madam Thickness

A Headcannon of Bakuhoe, Shotoroni, and Kalamari with a thick S/O 🤍🖤✨

Foxy Lover

A Headcannon of Baku and Sho with a foxy S/O🤍🖤

The Lies You Told

A Headcannon after S/O’S father is dicovered to have another family.  💙🤍

Never Judge By Looks

A Headcannon with a scary-looking S/O who’s actually Chaotic and Funny. 🤍💛

Alternative S/O

What would it be like to have an alternative S/O with Shinso, Izuku, Bakugo and Shoto.🤍✨

Periods

Let’s see how Bakugo, Iida, and Shoto handle periods with their S/O. 🤍

Through My Eyes

Bakugo with a insecure S/O about her stretch marks. 🖤🤍

How did I fall for you?

Bakugo Confeses his feelings to you. 🤍

Perfection

A Headcannon of Denki, Shoto, and Bakugo with a chubby, big breasted S/O 🖤🤍

Steamy Makeout

Ever wondered what would it be like to makeout with Bakugo? Or Shoto?🖤🤍

Double Whammy

A headcannon of Bakuhoe, Toshi, Todoroni and Kiripima with a Fem!S/O who was blessed a bit too much. 🤍🖤

What’s So Fucking Funny?!

A (rather small) Imagine. Bakugo’s S/O tends to laugh at all his yelling. 💛

Firsts W/ Bakugo

a mini imagine of firsts with you and your belvoved Bakugo. 🤍🖤

Call Out My Name

A snippet of what’ll be like if you were ever kidnapped by your villain father. 💙🤍

Woah

A Headcanon for Midoriya, Bakugo, Todoroki & Shinso when they see their Fem Reader with and without makeup? 🤍

Don’t Change Who You Are.       Part Two

S/O (who’s personality is similar to Bakugo’s) changes who they are only to be told that they’re fine just the way they are.💛🤍🖤✨

Looks Can Be Deceiving

A Headcanon for Iida, Todoroki, Bakugou & Kirishima to the reader who’s super shy at first but once they get to know them they become extrovert!!!! 🤍

Angel

a Headcanon for Todoroki, Bakugo, Midoriya, Kirishima & Iida of a new student that has an “angel” quirk (the angel wings, a beautiful voice and obviously a beautiful personality). Like their quirk would be their voice; singing can be hypnotic.🤍✨

Samwiches

A headcannon of doing the dirty with these four. 🖤

Confessions

You and Bakugo were so close in high school, what changed? (My dedication to a special fan~ @twddybe4r ) 🤍 ✨

Arguments

A Headcannon Of Arguing with Deku, Dynamight and Shoto. 💙🤍

UWU

CAN YOU NOT KILL DENKI, KATSUKI, DEKU AND SHOTO? Stop being cute! 🤍

Severe Silence

A accident causes your hearing to go away, How will things change between you and Kiri, Deku, Baku and Iida? 💙🤍✨

Slipped

When all seems lost, you can always count on Kacchan. 💙🤍✨

Smoking

S/O is discovered to have a hidden smoking problem. 💙🤍

Drinking and Singing

Stay away from the eggnog next year, Dear. 💛

PTSD & BPD

How does these three help you with your trauma you still face? 💙🤍

Acne

Why should bumps define you? 🤍

Southern Bell

Something about those fried foods just make these boys melt like the butter on mashed potatoes. 🤍

The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year

Winter has many benefits and fall backs. More benefits though. 🖤🤍

Darkness

Trigger Warning: Death, Panic attacks: You accidentally kill a villain during a battle..how can you cope with that feeling in by our heart? 💙🤍

Pain Of The Past

Somethings are better out in the open then kept secret. 💙🤍

Goddess In The Midst

black!fem!s/o and reacting to when her melanin is blessed by Golden hour or the Moonlight is shining hella well on her skin. 🤍

Dads

how they would handle or babysit kids  🤍 

Melanin Goddess 

South African s/o who has people saying some annoying comments to her just bc she's from Africa.  💙🤍

It’s Just An Illusion

when they have a mission with their s/o and she has this psychosomatic illusion quirk. 🤍💙✨ 

Family Drama

(originally a request.) common black folk issues.  💛

Count On Us

where their friend is manically depressed and has been forgetting to sleep, eat, shower and ,clean, and barley leaves her bedroom, she only listens to the same music on repeat and cries while lashing out on whoever bothers her.? 💙🤍 

Miscarriages

experiencing a miscarriage with their S/O 💙✨

Dreamers

Black!Pro-hero y/n (who’s a bit obscured since she’s not a top ranking hero) is on patrol with her pro-hero boyfriend and suddenly you hear an excited squeal  🤍✨

All Thighs Matter 

an s/o that drops everything for them the minute they lay on her lap  🤍 ✨

Black Fetishization

falling for a Black s/o and confessing to her, only for her to be very suspicious and ask why. Turns out s/o has been in a relationship where she has been fetishized and the ex was upset that she didn't act like "what a black girl is suppose to act 🙄" and dumped her.

MARDI GRAS

teenage Aizawa, Bakugo, and Shinso with a southern s/o taking them to their first Mardi Gras parade 🤍

I Want To Be Just Like You 

Hawks, Bakugo, Aizawa, and Mirio reacting to their black!fem!pro-hero crush gushing as she meets a few young (like 5-8 years old to make it cuter) black girls wearing her merch or looking at her in pure awe to see someone that looks like them is a pro-hero 🤍

Dimples 

Kiri, Shoto, Aizawa, and Hawks with an s/o that has not only a gorgeous smile but she also has dimples.🤍

ALL THIGHS MATTER

hcs of Bakugo, Shinsou, Hawks, and Kirishima with an s/o that drops everything for them the minute they lay on her lap?🤍

Start Off With A Dice Roll

Izuku, Kiri, Mirio and Bakugou approaching a black reader who they’ve been eyeing in the club all night? 🤍✨

[newtonsheffield]

I don't remember if you've already shared this, but any chance we might get some drabbles about Anthony meeting Newton for the first time and generally Kate's two boys getting to know each other?Thank you for all that you do to create this lovely little world!

No thank you for taking the time to read every thing about this world! You deserve far mor credit than I do!

I have written a tiny little snippet about Anthony’s first meeting with the existing love of Kate’s life aaaaand I can’t find it! Because I’m terrible at tagging my posts, my bad guys. I’m not going to delve into that first meeting now because it’s actually going to be covered in this weeks Chapter Saturday !

Anthony had never really considered himself a dog person. If someone had asked him even a month ago he would have said a dog would never set foot in his home. And then Kate had looked a little unsure when he’d asked, more than a little hesitantly, if she would come to his for the weekend, the entire weekend, It’s okay if you don’t want to, he’d said hurriedly at her hesitation, I know that you’re busy and if you and Eddie have plans I more than understand. Kate had shaken her head and said It’s not that it’s just I have Newton and Eddie’s back home now but he’s my dog and she shouldn’t have to look after him. Anthony had nodded and surprised them both by saying Can he not come with you?

Kate had left for work a little early on Friday kissing Anthony’s cheek and saying I’m just going to pick up Newton and I’ll be round maybe at 6:30? Anthony had smiled happily telling her he would make dinner and Kate had left, contentment spreading through her chest. Gregory had looked up as she passed his desk an amused little smirk on his face Do my ears deceive me or is Anthony expecting you to bring a dog to his home tonight? Kate had raised her eyebrows stilling slightly and said Yes? Why do you look so amused? Gregory had laughed brightly and said Anthony really must like you, Kate. Hyacinth won a goldfish at a fair once and he made her leave it on the stoop and I quote There are no animals in my house. Kate’s eyes widened in surprise and as she looked back at Anthony who had a pen tucked behind his ear, tapping away on his iPad a soft smile came to her face

Of course, it was an absolute disaster. Anthony had greeted Newton at the door with a little shake of his paw and a Good evening Newton before standing to greet Kate who was looking at him with a very odd expression on her face somewhere between disbelief and adoration, her thumbnail caught between her teeth. Anthony had stood back and Newton had scampered into the house immediately making a mad dash through the hall towards the living room, Kate had hurried after him calling out his name and Anthony had followed behind a little bewildered wondering what she was possibly worried would happen in 35 seconds. As it turned out quite a lot. Anthony rounded the corner and saw Newton laying on his sofa, his teeth sinking into a throw cushion his interior decorator had just dropped off yesterday. Anthony was aghast as Kate attempted to wrestle the cushion from the tiny dog, finally succeeding though looking up at Anthony in dismay at the small rip. Anthony I’m so- she started, her eyes wide but Anthony just shrugged. It’s only a throw cushion Kate, and I wasn’t sold on it anyway. Newton, I am going to have to ask you to get down from there though. He said turning towards the dog who just yipped happily

Kate tried to no avail to get Newton not to sleep in Anthony’s bed. Desperately she tried, to coax him down onto the floor and he went, for a total of 15 seconds before he leapt back up, settling himself against Anthony’s likely ludicrously expensive bedsheets. Kate bit her lip worry gnawing at her stomach a combination of Gregory’s words and her own inner monologue saying This is a sign of how incompatible your lives are, and Anthony’s going to realise it. And then Anthony sighed and said a little exasperatedly Just let the bloody thing sleep there! If it means you come back to bed I really don’t fucking care, Kate. And Kate had smiled softly to herself before settling back Against Anthony’s chest, Newton happily curled at their feet when she whispered I love you, into the darkness, and Anthony’s hum of contentment had rumbled through her chest.