endless blink

  • me: (craps out words with my fingers) welp it's 3am time to post fic without proofreading while blinking endless rheum from my eyes
  • lovely readers' comments: your writing's so beautiful!! i cried!! i love ur fic!! beautiful writing!!
  • me: (confused)
  • me: (happy!)
  • me: (keeps writing)

just in case you thought it might be abandoned (an entirely reasonable thought), i am here to tell you:

what’s real or isn’t – chapter 10 is now up!

just one more chapter (and a short epilogue) to go. thank you all for bearing with me, for reading, and for your endless patience.

have a snippet:

Hux blinks. His reflection blinks – a second off.

Hux narrows his eyes and then sneers, baring his teeth at the mirror in a way he thinks Kylo Ren would be proud of. His reflection jerkily does the same, movements lagging lurching like under a strobe light. It bares its teeth and runs a tongue over them when Hux does the same.

It smiles, lips curling up in an expression that should seem malevolent, but isn’t. Hux smiles back.

orevet  asked:

If you haven't already gotten a ton of requests for it, can you write more for the AU where the Skywalkers are part eldritch abomination? I know you don't really write about Kylo Ren, but I'm morbidly curious to see this interpretation of him and Rey, Finn, and Poe's interactions with him.

hahaha yes I love this:

  • you need a teacher, it says, and it takes all of Rey’s strength not to vomit then and there, because she has never seen anything more awful-beautiful in her entire life. It is – it is like the desert in the high heat of mid-day, when the air shimmers and wafts and thickens, somehow, and that thing on the horizon could be a parade of krayt dragons, or an oasis, or an oncoming sandstorm. It itches at her eyes, and inside her mind things yammer-clammer, say yes you will obey and her spine skitters and this thing, this thing pretending to be a boy, it thinks she is so power-hungry and lonely that she will take its hand. It thinks she is so blind that she thinks that it offers a hand and not a claw-wing-diamond-blood-star-appendage. It is beautiful, yes, but Rey has seen beauty in fires and the ocean and she knows that both will swallow you up, if you let them. Rey shows her teeth. She is human and whole and unharmed, and she does not slam her Force-eyes shut but opens them wide, wide, wide, until the thing cannot hide from her. Until it is laid bare before her. And she sees what Kylo Ren truly is, and the you will obey becomes what are you doing and she snarls, “I see you,” and she slams forwards, unafraid and bright-burning. 
  • You don’t have to tell Finn that Kylo Ren is a monster: he knows that all too well. He knows that when Kylo Ren gives the order – the offhand order! – to slaughter the villagers. He knows that even before then: when he hears tales of what happens to Stormtroopers when they fail in their duty. He knows. But it is still a heart-stopper of a shock when Kylo Ren turns and looks at him and Finn doesn’t see a humanoid figure in a mask but a great ripped blackness, like someone has reached into the skin of reality and torn it aside, revealing the darkness beyond, spangling with things that could be stars, but are more likely to be eyes. He sees – wings, perhaps, or claws, or fire. Teeth, maybe. Perhaps those are teeth. Perhaps those are screaming faces. He closes his eyes, sweat congealing on the inside of his helmet, his heart shuddering against his ribs and –
    • the moment is gone. Kylo Ren is gone. When Finn faces him again, there is no escaping it: Kylo Ren snarls, and his shadow ripples and changes behind him, and his lightsabre is one moment seperate from him and the next a tooth in a forest of identical teeth; the next it is a feather in a shining blood-drenched wing. Finn is reminded of a story baby troopers are told, of a trooper who ventured out to save her captain from a strange and terrible enemy, and this enemy bid her cling to her captain no matter what form he might take; and so she hung on as he became a krayt dragon and a terranterror and the smallest atom and a kyber crystal too hot to grasp. And she held on as her skin blackened and peeled away, and no matter what form he was changed to she clung on, and so in the end she was victorious. There was a motto in there somewhere: about sticking with your unit. Something like that. The point is: Finn does not let go and does not stop fighting, because Kylo Ren may be a monster but there are worse things in the galaxy than him (namely, abandoning Rey to his tender mercies. Finn would die before he did that. He almost does.)
  • Poe has not looked General Organa in the face since he returned from captivity. He looks at her feet, or the space just over her left shoulder. Once, he eyed her face greedily, keen to catch some momentary flicker of approval. After one meeting, she calls him over. They are alone. They have not been alone since before – 
    • Poe’s throat closes up. He tries very hard not to shut his eyes against the white-gold glare blazing from Leia’s skin.

      “You see it,” she says. “You see me.”

      “I – I saw him,” Poe says. He stares at the floor. He feels her presence gnawing at the edge of his mind. “I saw him, he made me see him, he thought it would burn my eyes out, he –”

      “It didn’t, did it?”


      “I don’t blame you for not wanting to look at me,” says Leia, gently. “I just want you to know that we’re not the same. Not at all.”

      yes you are Poe wants to say. They are: both too bright to bear, or a hungering darkness, alternating between the two; both are children of the Force, as inhuman as the stars.

      “Poe,” says Leia. “I am sorry for what happened to you. Truly.”

      And it is this, perhaps, that convinces him; for even as shadows dance and twist over his feet (cast by her strange luminous skin) her voice is the same. Durasteel hard, and gentling, and he lifts his eyes. 

      She is beautiful. She is endless. But he blinks, and the light vanishes, and she is Leia Organa once more. 
  • Hux wears sunglasses around Kylo Ren. He looks absurd, but the last thing he wants is for Snoke’s pet monster to burn out his corneas in some petty tantrum. They lose twenty good men that way every time the scavenger girl’s name is mentioned. 
Suga (Part 3) - Suga/Yoongi x Reader

Genre : smut, fluff, almost CIA!Au

Word Count : 2K

DescriptionY/N is absolutely happy with Yoongi, her sweet and caring who treats her like a fragile flower. But one day, she meets Suga, who looks exactly like Yoongi, only that his personality is the exact opposite. Only he can show her the “dark side” of love she never got to experience with Yoongi. So at day, Y/N is in the warm arms of Yoongi but as soon as night falls, she finds herself in bed with Suga, who seems to know all of her darkest fantasies…

Author’s note : Even when it’s only 2K words, I started writing it on Thursday but barely had time to end it before now *cry* mianhae… 

previous : part II | next : on hiatus


Originally posted by hugtae

„It surprises me that you actually came.“ 

„Suga, what is this place?“, the coldness in this desert factory had shivers racing across your skin despite the tries to rub away your goosebumps. 

After Yoongi had left for work and you were alone at home, you took the opportunity to see Suga, who oddly had your number that you didn’t give him. Through the whole family meal at Yoongi’s father’s house, you couldn’t say you enjoyed it. 

Suga had invaded almost every inch of your brain and occupied you like the memory of your own name. It wouldn’t be a big shock if one day you accidentally call Yoongi like that and this is actually just the second time you met. 

The first time - at the coffee shop - was rather a coincidence that cost his jacket to be stained with caramel macchiato spots that you spilled on him. 

„It’s my office. I work here“, he explained and lead the way deeper into the factory, through a green rusty door that creaked in complain as he pushed it open. „The organization I’m working for bought the whole factory, made it look torn-down and useless so that no one suspects that it’s actually a lair of someone who has the ability to hack into every computer, device, anything technologic, right from where he’s seating. Even the president’s best hidden emails are known to us.“

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The mass of research has spread up to the wall. Papers layered upon paper, some with fresher notes written in, connecting the dots from one witness statement on a sheet to one clear over on the other side of the desk. Several of the sheets had been shuffled off to the side to make room for just one: a correspondence sigil. Poorly drawn, at that. Looking at it hardly even made Casey’s eyes water.

Several leatherbound books were on the desk, stacked in a neat pile until it was their turn. One volume was already open, the text on various unknown Correspondence droning on for endless paragraphs. Casey blinked slowly, keeping their head propped up on their hands, as they tried to re-read the same page over and over. Their notes, a messy list of half-hearted symbols and potential meanings to each tick and curve, lie forgotten to the side. Their head snapped up suddenly, as if coming to an epiphany, and their gaze fell on a small framed photograph, nearly hidden by their books: an adolescent boy and a young girl, sitting side by side in serious poses. The boy’s hands are poised and posed, clasped in his lap, whereas the girl’s hands are curled into tiny fists in front of her lace dress. Casey regards this scene with a flat expression, only distantly connecting that girl’s face to the early memories of their childhood. The young James to her side looked so new, so ready to take on the world. If only he knew.

“You would’ve been able to pick this right up,” Casey muttered, closing the book in front of them. “Imagine the horror on mum’s face: My son is studying what?”

The photograph doesn’t respond. James just keeps staring back with the same big, dark eyes. Casey’s child-self didn’t have much to offer either. At that age, she preferred a wooden toy Noah’s ark over anything else.

Casey sighed and rubbed their face, leaning back in the chair to give their research wall another look before diving back in to their book stack.


You walked up to the front door of the bunker, the picture of the collision still playing through in your mind on some sort of endless loop. You blinked hard, trying to get rid of it but it didn’t do anything. Despite being a Hunter and having seen so many bloody situations this one was more haunting than the rest. It just felt so much more…real.

Silently slipping off your shoes, you trudged into the main room and slumped down at the table where your brothers and Cas were researching.
“You okay?” Sam asked, frowning slightly.
You didn’t look at him at first, you nodded slowly before mumbling a “Yeah.”

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” Cas asked firmly, staring at you.
Dean looked up at Cas’ question and gave you a concerned look. 
“It’s nothing.” You sighed, not really wanting to say the words.
“Y/N…?” Sam echoed your name, his eyes full of worry.
“I just…I saw a car crash and I can’t stop thinking about it…” You admit, looking between the three of them.

Dean and Sam smiled tightly whilst Cas looked at you intently. “I could erase the memory.” He offered. You knew he was trying to help and you were thankful for it but you didn’t particularly want to risk anything. “I think I’ll cope,” You smile sadly “But thank you.”
“I understand.” He nodded seriously

“Come on,” Sam declared, rising from his chair and dragging you up with him “Let’s take your mind off it.” He smiled.

“There’s a vamp hunt a few towns over but we could stop and grab some ice cream along the way.” Dean smirked.

Your eyes brightened at the thought and you smiled “Can I pick the music?” You ask, grinning hopefully,

Dean laughed sarcastically “Don’t push it.”

Requested by anon

Hey I love your blog BTW,but can I get one where Cas,Dean,and Sam help the reader after seeing a drunk driver accident and they treat her like a little sister, Sorry I just saw one and its messing with me

Hey! I’m really sorry this took so long, hun, I hope I’m forgiven . Thanks for requesting!

I do not own these gifs

Love Confessions(SEHUN/OC) One-Shot

*Where Sehun had broken your heart, then came back asking for forgiveness a few weeks later.*

Sehun and I used to watch those really cheesy movies where the guy apologizes to the girl by making a grand romantic gesture towards her, like throwing pebbles at the girl’s window, love letters, doves, flowers, or the classic— trying to win her over by standing gobsmacked in the middle of the rain and begging her to come back.

He never liked those—hated them, even. He complained about how it was totally unrealistic and that, that guy was dumb for making a fool out of himself. And how that girl was stupid for coming back to him. He said that he would never do that, even if there was a gun to his head. But you see, the funny thing is, he did exactly that. And there was no trace of a gun.

On the day Sehun came knocking at my door at midnight, Seattle’s weather was more of a wreck than it already is. There must’ve been something bad going on in the heavens, because the rain poured down on us like a tsunami, and it never stopped. Not only were the tress victims of the rain, but the wind, also. They were trying their best not to get carried by the vicious wind that was recklessly knocking everything in its path.

I was in my cozy room watching a Doctor Who marathon with the one and only, sleepy Chanyeol, when the booming sound of the doorbell ringing impatiently reach my ears. I flinched and looked over to Chanyeol, checking if that interrupted his peaceful sleep. Relief washed over me when his eyes kept closed and his chest was rising and falling slowly.

My eyebrows made a crease as I wondered who would be outside my apartment of all places at midnight on a day like this. My legs quickly moved towards the door. I twisted the door knob and swung the door open, revealing a face that I’ve been forcing myself to erase out of my mind for weeks. Sehun.

My body was paralyzed in shock. My eyes were about to pop out of its sockets, and my lips were parted from the disbelief. My mind races with endless questions. I blinked a couple of times, trying to see if the person who was soaking wet from head to toe would vanish into thin air, like a dream. But no, this wasn’t a dream.

The figure stood still. “Sehun…?” I managed to choke out. My vocal chords had chosen such a great time to betray me at this moment. I was the victim of being under his killer gaze for quite a long time. It made my stomach twist and knot at a small glimpse of him. Finally, he broke his gaze and both corner of his lips tugged upwards.

Silence hung thick in the air, but I didn’t care. I carried on my little interrogation. “What are you doing here! If you’re here for your hoodie, then you can have it back. I already washed it, and it’s collecting du—” my sudden rambling was rudely interrupted by him.

“Why’d you wash it?” he asked, hurt was clearly evident evident in his voice. He was slurring his words. In a blink of an eye, I found my shoulders being gripped by his strong hands. The acidic small of alcohol lingered on his breath, making me grimace. I wiggled out of his death like grip and distanced myself from him.

“You’re drunk,” I scoffed, crossing my arms. He started to ramble on about something, but I let myself drift off and observe his facial features that my eyes had been longing to see.

He had gotten so much slimmer. Instead of a bright twinkle in his eyes, a dull cold one was there. They were puffy, too. His cheeks were stained with newly shed tears, making my heart break all over again. He cried. Oh Sehun cried.

“…and I would wake up at 3 am terrified out of my mind because I remembered that I can no longer see that sweet, sweet smile of yours light up when you get excited about something,” he sniffed, shaking his head in shame. And like the tress outside, he was struggling to stay in one spot. Unconsciously, my instincts kicked in and I found myself holding onto his arms to help him regain his balance.

And in just one swift move, he grabbed my arms and pulled me into his chest, embracing me. His arms fully wrapped around my waist while his face was buried at the nape of my neck.

Once again, I was paralyzed from shock. My hands began to tremble uncontrollably as if I was in Antarctica during the winter. Despite being soaked from head to toe, his body heat wrapped around me like a big fluffy jacket. His hand traveled up to my hair and caressed it gently, like a fragile piece of art that could fall apart any time. His pained muffled sobs reached my ears, making my chest hurt.

Without knowing, I slowly began to return the affection towards him. “Shh..shhh…” my trembling voice didn’t help the situation much. Tears began to drip down from my eyes. I mentally cursed at myself for being so weak in front of him. But then again, I wasn’t the soaked drunk one who was sobbing uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry…I’m so so so sorry,” he said. His voice was breaking to pieces. “I didn’t mean what I said. I only told you that I was cheating on you out of anger. I was never with a girl. I’m so sorry that I broke your heart, I’m sorry that I caused you so much pain. I’m sorry that you wasted your tears on me. Please forgive me. I am dying without you. I am dying without your bad puns lighting up my day. I am dying without your kisses. Please,” he finished, his hands gently cupped my face. I searched his face for any evidence of lies, but none came up. He was genuinely sincere.

I gnawed my bottom lip, not knowing what to do, or how to respond with the truth that weighed on my shoulders. The pouring rain filled out silence, but I didn’t mind. I was overwhelmed with emotions. I wasn’t going to deny myself the truth— I still love him. I still craved for his touch and his kiss single day. I craved seeing his little happy dance when he had found a new bubble tea store. I craved him. I missed him.

“…you didn’t cheat?” I asked, my voice was a little louder this time. He shook his head.

Suddenly, I felt a ton of weight lift off from my shoulders. It was replaced with relief and mirth. In the first time in forever, I cracked a smile. “Okay,” I nodded, “I forgive you. Just… Please don’t ever do that to me. Please.”

He frantically nodded in excitement, then swooped his head down, engulfing me into a fully passionate kiss that both of us had been longing for. My arms found its way to his neck and wrapped it, pulling him closer. His arms snaked around my waist, pulling me even closer.

Eventually, our lips parted for just a second, giving him the time to say, “I promise.” And he meant it.

wow. okay. I’ve had this in my notes for forever, and I’ve been debating wether to post this or not. I hope you guys enjoyed it! Requests are open :) feel free to ask!

the price of existence is reality

summary: dan is what some might call a megalomaniac; he dreams of delusions of power and grandeur, believes the world around him is a controlled web of existence, an existence of which he is king. in other words, dan’s got a superiority complex the size of the moon.

genre: mainly angst, some fluff

word count: 9.2k

warnings: swearing (lots oops), general existenialism???/ references to megalomania as a mental illness

a/n: i worked quite a long time on this and for once im actually happy with the results!! it was extremely fun and intriguing to write, and its a little different but i hope you enjoy <33 this fic was hugely inspired by moreorlester’s artwork which has kept me up several nights in a row because of its beautY, please just study it u wont regret it aLSO there are bits of french in here sorry if they are inaccurate google translate is a chienne

dont kill me for text post references and thorough use of metaphors throughout this i love life and also thankyou so so much again to amy for helping mé extensively at 2am with this fic and betaing for me, i lové you so much <333

playlist for the fic || info on megalomania 

- ♥♥♥ -

Dan sees through tainted eyes. Toxic eyelashes brush his cheeks every time he blinks, capturing endless snapshots to be preserved in his webbed kingdom of megalomania, of which he rules with a fine elegance. His smirk is worn like a crown, and Dan holds his chin high with the knowledge that he is a spider, and the world is his web.

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Only You ~An Everlark One-Shot~

Well hello everyone! I hope you’ve been having a lovely holiday so far! This little story came to me after seeing Mockingjay. I just hated seeing my babies in pain, but I also realized how much they truly love one another. I decided to use that to my advantage, and play around with it a bit! So, with that being said, here is a little post-Mockingjay one-shot. I hope you all enjoy; thank you so much for reading!

Without further adooooo-

Only You

A deep void surrounds me, engulfing my body and drowning my senses. I cannot make out what’s a plain surface, what’s a wall, what’s the ground. Everything is a single, washed out color, with endless seams.

I blink rapidly, trying to clear my senses and bring myself out of this limbo. A few shaky steps reveals that there is indeed a surface beneath me, but what lies ahead is still a complete mystery.

So, curiosity getting the best of me, much like it does while I’m in the woods hunting, I walk. I walk straight and see where my legs take me.

Still, there is nothing, or at least, nothing within my range of vision. This certainly isn’t a recognizable place.

Where am I? How did I get here? Is there anyone else imprisoned in this nothingness? What does this all mean? Is this all just a dream?

A thousand questions swarm the confides of my brain as I saunter forward. If this is indeed a dream, it could possibly be a metaphorical spin on the crushing loneliness I’ve been feeling ever since I returned home from District 13.

I’ve lost everything. My sister, my friends, my home, my sanity, my affections, my physicality, myself…

I’ve been reduced to a state of emptiness. The Mockingjay finally lost her wings. Though I was indeed able to succeed in freeing the Districts from the grasps of their leaders, I’ve never felt so beaten down.

The war cost me so much. The war cost everyone so much.

I doubt it’ll ever be the same. I doubt I’ll ever be the same.

Biting my lip, I continue trudging along, shaking my head in an attempt to clear my thoughts. And at that moment, I notice a change.

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