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Raat Kitni hi tareek sahee..
Kiran lazmi nikaltii hayy…
Soraj sir uthataa hayy..
tareekhi bil akhir jatii hayy..

Dukh ki gharii akhir kab tk
youheee chalti rehti hayyy..
Ghamgeen badal jat’tay hain..
Mosaam nikharr hi jataa hayy…
Peelay patty jharty hain..
R Phool Mosum k khilty hain.
Benoori Noor ho hi jati hayy
Andhera ujala ho hi jata hayy

Pather jitney bhi waznii hon..
Darya raah apni banata hayy..
rastaa kitnaa hi bareek sahee
Paaani aagy jataa hay..
Waqat kabhii rukta nahe..
Har samaay badal jataa hay..

Yad rakhoo.

Sans k chalnayy tak..
Dil k dhraknayy tak..
Umeed ki shama jalti hy..
Zindagi rang badalti hay..
Zindagi aagy chalatii hay..

Qudrat ka ye qanoon tehraa..

Zindagi kabhee rukte nahee..
Zindagi aagy barhtee hay..

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I need a crowbar for these broken windows in my broken head and I’d say grab a bone saw but you could snap my brittle bones in two without it & if I ask you to light a match and watch it drop do you think the kerosene I’ve poured would mind your feet?

Because I want to burn this shitty little house down. Up in smoke so I don’t have to hear the noises of it’s creeks and leaks & memories anymore.

&its not because I’m bored, I don’t sit still because I can’t find anything to do. I don’t stop unless I feel like I have to.

So when you come home and its burnt to the ground remember what lays here with it. The immortality of my thoughts all crushed and covered in ash. A long line of things I can’t scrub from my memory.

So Lay here with me. Tell me the story of how you fixed me , since you’re so dead set on me being worth it.

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Word Count: 762

Fandom: Be More Chill

Ships: No intentional ships, Jeremy x Micheal if you squint

Warnings: Mention of panic attack, use of the word dick referring to a bad person (Let me know if there is anything else I missed!)

This fic is for the Be More Chill Quarantine Challenge run by @bmc-gift-exchange and the prompts for this fic are these pictures.


I hope you enjoy!


I watched as the fire in front of my flickered and rose. Feeling the little bit of intense heat that hit my face from a few feet away. I let out a heavy sigh, the built up stress and tension from the year prior melting away with the fires heat. Life has been – crazy, to say the least. First of all there was a super computer that wanted to take over the world in my brain, and that was, well how do I put this? Traumatic. Yeah. That’s the word. I’ve been seeing a therapist but I’ve been jumpy, irritable, paranoid. The school year ended about three weeks ago and Micheal decided a good way to relieve my stress would be a camping trip. Yay.

I was nervous to say the least, but Micheal said it would be good for me. Good to get some fresh air into my system. Good to get away from technology. Just me, him, Rich (He’s been our friend since the incident) and My dad. The Boyz. At least that’s what my dad has been calling us.

No tech on the trip. That’s the rule.

Not exactly for the same reasons as most campers. It’s not so we can connect more with each other. It’s not so we can connect to nature. It’s to give me a break. A break from avoiding computers and ipads and tablets. I had a panic attack back in school during a trip to the computer lab, Chirstine had to take me to the nurse. Rich is fine with tech, but fires set him off. He hasn’t stepped into a Payless Shoes since either, and I don’t think he ever will again.

Rich had to leave when we lit the bonfire. We somehow had forgotten and he started to freak out. He didn’t want to ruin our night so he went to cool off at the lake for a bit. Funny, he’s using water to calm him down from fear of fire.

I feel a hand rest on my shoulder and I look up to see Micheal as he sits down next to me holding a soda in his free hand (Not Mountain Dew, of course). He sits for a second, taking a sip of his drink, then he sighs and looks at me and says, “I’m sorry man, I’m really sorry.”

It takes me a second to process what he’s saying. Micheal isn’t usually one to apologize, so It’s a bit surprising, “For what?”

He takes his hand off my shoulder and looks down at the ground, “Can we take a walk? Talk about some stuff?”


We take a trail through the woods to the lake, my dad stays behind to tend to the fire. Micheal walks in stride next to me, we’re silent for a bit. Until Micheal said, “I’m sorry for – for abandoning you.” His hands are in his pockets now and he looks down at the ground.

I’m shocked, “What do you mean?”

He lets out another sight, this one more wobbly and broken then the last, “I mean, you were going through this terrible hard time and I just – I just left you,” he takes a deep breath, his voice breaking, “And you had to deal with that thing all by yourself, I just, I should’ve tried harder to – to be your friend, to help you, I-” Tears start to roll down his cheeks and I realize that this must be something he’s been holding in for quite some time.

“Micheal, you have no reason to beat yourself up, I was being a total dick to you and literally blocking you from my brain, and plus you came back! You came back and you saved me! Without you everyone would be squipped and they would have taken over the world!,” Tears are streaming down my face now too, “So are we ok?”

He laughs and wipes some tears from his eyes and smiles at me, “Yeah, I’m good, you?”

I smile, “Yeah, I’m good.”

Two arms wrap around us from behind, surprising us, “And I’m good to!” Rich laughs as we wipe our faces with our sleeves, “And now that we’re all good, you guys wanna come sit with me? The lake was getting pretty lonely.”

So here we are now. Sitting by the lake watching the sun set. The cool breeze, the sweet smell of the night air. Sitting here on the lake with my two best friends. Who cares what happened before? We’re here now, and here is the only place I want to be.


Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!


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Been playing animal crossing for hours at this point haha I’ll stop until the morning 😅

I need more friends on there if you happen to read this and play or even have a switch just send your codes 🥰

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I know I have your attention,

I know you love me,

I can feel it through your words,

and see it in your actions,

but the more I receive,

the more I want

and the more I want to give.

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Do I still have people reading or waiting for any stories because I might stop writing but I gotta know if some of you are still interested because I don’t want to leave anybody hanging lmao

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ok but hear me out: Angel is the type of gal who waxed her legs and arms without flinching and can straight up hold a conversation while waxing. like, one day Kai comes into the bathroom after hearing the nasty ripping noises and is just like “whhat aRE YOU DOING TO YOURSELF??” “honey it’s just wax strips” *rips another strip of hair off her leg* and he’s just even more ???? than before until she offers to let him try too then he’s more ?!?!?!


That torturous sound gave him disgusting chills. Hee felt his whope body shivering, even despite being way too far to care… but he did. He couldn’t concentrate on his book, and those noises were very much distracting for his dismay.

He got up with a grunt and followed the ripping noises, cringing his teeth together when a rather slow, but disgusting no less, echoed again on his ears.

He arched one eyebrow at noticing that those noises were coming from his bedroom, bathroom actually to he more specific. Slowly he pushed his door and found you with a frow but still rubbing one of your legs that was quite rosy pink… while some other parts and your whole left leg was covered with some… tape?

“Mind me asking what the actual hell you’re doing?” He muttered while you looked at him, sheepish smile before ripping another tape with ease.

He swore his breathing stopped. Ouch. Ouch. Ouch. How the FUCK did you just stayed with a neutral face like that?!

“They were too long and I’m just waxing them. Shaving it bothers my skin and sometimes I even get hives… so this is the most easy way.” You said that before ripping with ease the last tape from your leg.

He winced a bit and averted his eyes to the ceiling, not only the sound was annoying but hell, the vision of you doing that was torture.

“Have to admit that you surprise me at not having an reaction from doing this.” He clenched his teeth again at another ripping sound.

“Whaa?” You almost cooed, caughting his attention before you picked the said product to show to his amber eyes “It doesn’t even hurt! Wanna test it out?”

His glare was a perfect mixture of ’you went crazy’ and ’try to get this thing near me and I will end with your existence’. You really shouldn’t find this funny, but your urge to giggle was stronger.

“Scared? The Overhaul is scared of some waxing?” You tries to pry him but he only glared daggers at you and crossed his arms.

“There is a difference of still wanting your skin to be intact and fear angel of mine, and both of us have the knowledge that my quantity of fears or such foolish things are equal to zero.”

“What about catching a dise-”

“Hush.” He growled and you laughed even more while ripping the last remain of tape in your leg, Kai grunting as you did so “Aaand… done!”

“Finally.” He sighed in noth relief and annoyance as he made his way out “Next time pick an hour to do this masochistic action when I’m not on my free time.”

You pouted before throwing all that you needed on the trash before following him, founding your boyfriend on the couch as with his book already.

You innocently took a seat on his side and started to lightly poke his leg with yours, him grunting a bit as shifted to love only a bit away from you, gaze never breaking from his book.

Yet you were persistent.

“Kai?” You cooed his name, him closing his eyes and breathing in before arching an eyebrow at your smilling self “Feel it!” You pointed to your leg as he arched even more hsi eyebrow.

“For God’s sake (Y/n)-” he growled before his whole body went tense and rigid when you just plopped your legs on his lap, smilling at him like a innocent child. “I despise you. In so many levels.”

“Feel them and I will stop bothering!”

He sighed out loud before just poking your leg with one finger, eyes focused on you with an irritated look.

“No, it has to be without your gloves on first.” You pried and he, out of pacience, overhauled hsi own hooves before just placing his whole palm at your leg with a huff.

Although only there he felt how… soft they were. You grabbed his hand gently and moved it from side to side with a smile as his eyes looked with now interest your legs.


“… soft.” He muttered nonchantly.

“Told you so!” You chirped before moving your legs to take them off from your boyfriend’s lap… only for his hand to prevent that as his free one grabbed his book back.

You made a confused sound but he only hushed you, thumb stroking your bare skin, legs right on his lap, as he read his book like it wasn’t a big deal of it.

Although you had noticed the dusty pink on the point of his ears from the angle you were… huh, a new thing about Chisaki.

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[ 02:30am ]chan was leaning on one of the four walls of the room. he watched her dance to the loud music playing in the rented local. she was on the imaginary dance floor next to felix, getting closer and dancing together playfully as if they were a couple.

he tried convincing himself that he shouldn’t be jealous. chan knew they were just friends, but the feelings he was trying to hide were slowly surfacing, as well as his doubts. was she getting bored of him? did she want to end the non-verbal relationship they had? was that even a relationship?

chan looked at his alcohol half-filled cup, feeling the urge to drink it as if it was a shot. although they weren’t dating, there was something clearly going on between them, having spent so many nights together for the past five months.

finishing his drink and throwing the cup away, chan walks closer to where the duo were. they were drunkenly laughing, finding the words funnier than they usually are.

chan softly grabs her wrist, tugging it with the same delicacy. she looks at him, confusion written on her features. she follows him through the corridor connected to the room, the wind of the night entering through the door on the other end, making contact with the naked skin on her arms.

once outside, chan reaches to grab her waist, bringing her closer. she lets him, bringing her hands to his neck, running her fingers through his hair. she sensed his uneasiness, his dubious thoughts.

“i told myself i shouldn’t be jealous, but i can’t help myself,” chan whispered, his lips awfully close to hers. she moves her left hand form the back of his neck to caress his right cheek, chan closing his eyes at the loving gesture.

“it’s ok to be jealous. we are together, aren’t we?” said words caused chan to open his eyes suddenly in disbelief. she was softly smiling at him, eyes full of love and adoration.

chan swore he was on cloud nine. with a boost of confidence, he gently leans in and kisses her lips, pulling apart a few seconds later before she’s the one kissing him.

it felt like it was just them, sharing soft kisses in the middle of the night, without any worries on their minds.

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The Right Man Chapter 3 Sneak Peek

Walking into the office on Monday morning was a challenge for Betty. Her legs were in so much pain she was close to calling in sick as she struggled to get out of bed.

After Jughead showed up at her door at 5am in activewear hoping to join her for her run, Betty had to go along with the lie. She got dressed and braced the cold morning air lacing up her sneakers and hitting the pavement. Instantly she knew she made a mistake. She couldn’t even remember the last time she had run somewhere. It was most likely when she was at high school in PE class. Jughead set a good pace, but she was struggling to meet it. They weren’t even half an hour in when she gave up and hunched over a bench vomiting all she had eaten the night before.

“Are you okay?” Jughead has asked as he rubbed her back as she vomited.

“I lied, okay. I don’t run. I can’t run.” She confessed looking up at him seeing his struggling to hide his cheeky grin. He knew. He knew and continued to torture her anyway.

Now, here she was. Walking slowly with a limp towards her desk wanting to hide her head in shame. Hoping that Jughead would just ignore what he saw and smelt.

“Good Morning,” Jughead said happily as he showed up at her desk. His positive good morning mood making her groan. “How are you feeling?”

“My legs are on fire,” Betty confessed.

“I thought you might say that.”

Betty looked up at him from her desk. “How are you okay? I had the worst cramp this morning I couldn’t get out of bed for a good 20 minutes. I don’t even have a bathtub to soak in.”

He just smiled and took a step closer to her desk. “You should have called me. I would have come round in an instant to massage your legs.” He said with a wink and she rolled her eyes. “You could have borrowed my tub. It’s very comfortable.”

“I hate you.“ She mumbled.

“That’s not very nice seeing as I have something for you.” He replied pulling out a chocolate bar from his pocket. Betty looking up at him puzzled.

“What is this for?”

“I know how much of a sweet tooth you are. Consider it my apology for dragging you out of bed at 5am.” He said smugly.

Betty was in too much of a bad mood to refuse the chocolate. She wrapped it open and took a bite. Her lips curling as the sugar toucher her lips. A soft moan escaped her lips.

“You’re killing me, Cooper,” Jughead said feeling a movement between his legs.

Betty just looked up at him and sent him a scowl. “Go away.”

“I’ll let you have your morning coffee if you can make it to the machine. We’ll talk later.” He said taking a step back. “Remember, meeting at 10 in the conference room.”

“If I can make it there.” She said still feeling the sting in her legs.

“Well, if you can’t walk. I’ll just have to carry you.” He winked at her again just as the office began to fill up with people. 9am on the dot.

Read chapter 2 now, chapter 3 coming soon

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Chapter 145: Fusion 3

originally posted here

“Could we fuse?”

The question had been so innocent and curious.

Remus looked up from where he was lounging on the couch to where Logan was lowering his book.

“Ha!” Remus grinned. “Fuse with me? I doubt we’re compatible. I mean, we’re opposites, Lolo!”

“And yet it’s opposite poles that generate magnetic attractions,” Logan mused. “And while our functions may be opposites we do share… some things. Would you be willing to fuse? If the thought makes you uncomfortable we don’t have to.”

Remus briefly thought about the disaster of a fusion that was generated from him and Roman. But Logan… Logan was just curious. He wasn’t trying to take advantage of something, it would be safe.

“Eh,” Remus finally shrugged. “Sure. What kind of dance are you feeling? I only know club dancing, salsa, waltzes, and tangos.”

“I think a tango would be best,” Logan fiddled with his phone and put on some music. Remus stood up, stretched with an insane amount of cracking sounds, and then took his position to lead the dance.

He was surprised when Logan shifted him, taking the lead himself.

“I always lead,” he said. Remus grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

“You got it, Daddy…”

Logan rolled his eyes and they began to dance.


It was… strange to suddenly exist.

He (they?) gasped, falling into a normal breathing rhythm. He wrapped his arms around himself until his breathing slowed down.

He looked around (Remus?) the living room, taking everything in.

It was silent (Logan?) in this room.

Remus? Can you hear me? It worked!

Logan? It’s… it’s so quiet. I don’t like this. I can’t take it!

Remus, it’s ok. Breathe with me.

I can’t take it! Make it stop!

His form flickered as if something was trying to rip it apart.

Breathe with me, Remus. Try to match my breathing.

It took some effort, but he finally calmed down, his form no longer flickering.

“It worked,” he said in awe. “It really worked. We did it! I did it?”

He shook his head and walked over to a nearby mirror.

He had four eyes: two dark blue and two bright green. They were positioned in two straight lines, piled on top of each other. He had no mustache, but his hair had the silver streak, and it was messy.

His clothes had changed. They were a mishmash of blues and greens and blacks, elegant stripes and solids, reminiscent of fashion in the eighteenth century. A coat, a dress shirt, a vest, some slacks, boots, a cravat. And of course, glasses were perched on his nose.

“Amazing,” he said, smoothing his hands down his coat. The fabric was heavy, but smooth and moved easily. It almost reminded him of an old doctor or scientist. However limited they had been back then…

Lots of blood and gore in the name of medicine, eh? Shall we lop off someone’s arm?

“We need a name,” he said, looking back up in the mirror. “Or at least a title.”

I’m rather partial to The Earl…

Hmm… it has a nice ring to it. And most Earls were well educated…

“The Earl,” he said. “Yes, it sounds right.”

Within him, he felt two forces finally connect seamlessly as if they had always been pieces of a whole.

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When I decided to create a side that represented Thomas’s Sadness, the biggest thing I focused on was getting his characterization right. On the one hand, I didn’t want an emo stereotype, on the other I didn’t want someone who wasn’t affected by sadness at all.

I had to find a good middle ground because I did not want anyone thinking that I was downplaying depression or sadness or using it as a joke.

As someone who suffers from depression, I had an idea of how it worked, but I only really knew how it affects me. It makes time blur and warp until I can barely keep track of what day it is. It makes me feel dead or disconnected from reality sometimes as well. But then I also have good days where it doesn’t really affect me.

The only problem is, my writing started to turn him into this precious little cinnamon roll, which wasn’t really what I wanted. I was hesitant to change it since so many people loved Tristan and thought he was adorable. And then when I revealed Tristan’s true origins… I realized it made sense to make him like that. 

Tristan isn’t always a little ball of sunshine, but it makes sense for him to be that way sometimes when you consider how he was created. But then I had an idea: I wanted to make Tristan into not just a ball of sunshine, but a ray of hope.

I wanted Tristan to deal with his sadness and depression, but I also wanted him to show that depression doesn’t define someone. He can have good days and bad days, he can love and interact with his family, he can have hobbies and likes and dislikes.

But above all, he does all he can to keep other people from getting sad. He knows how it feels, and he doesn’t want anyone spiraling down like him. So yes, he acts like a ball of sunshine in the hopes of brightening up someone’s day. And more importantly, he asks for help when he needs it. He knows that asking for help is important, and it’s not a sign of weakness. He has therapy with Dr. Picani and he feels better from it.

Anyway, this is just something I’d been meaning to talk about ever since I really started using him in my stories. I love writing this character and I hope his antics and stories help someone’s day feel a bit better. 

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The Right Man

Betty Cooper always follows the rules. She goes to bed early, is the first to arrive at work and is always the last to leave. But when she finds herself in the backseat of a strangers car having one of the hottest nights of her life, she soon discovers maybe she isn’t the good girl she claimed to be. Especially when she turns up to work the next day to find out her new boss is the man from the club, Mysterious Jughead Jones. With a beautiful smile and dazzling blue eyes. Betty can’t help but be drawn back to him. But not wanting to be known for sleeping her way to the top. She tries to distance herself but fails miserably.

Chapter 2

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Hello! What about a scenario where Godseekers finding out that reader is true god of gods?

Idk if this is exactly what you had in mind but I hope y’all enjoy it

For a higher being, you were young, a child among gods. For the average bug, you were an ancient being among children. Still, your odd mixture of determination and mind-reading meant you were pretty hopeful that you would find followers.

When you came across the kingdom of Hollownest you new it would be a gamble. You could sense two wyrms fighting over the territory. Such an obnoxiously narcissistic breed of high beings would be tearing each other and everything around them apart. At the same time though, you could take advantage of what they left behind, the minds given to bugs by them and make a place of your own. Even with your ability to bend and manipulate minds the same way another being would bend the land they rule over one wyrm would be more than you could handle, let alone fighting against two in the middle of a war.

Dirtmouth was a quaint little town but not what you were looking for. Delving just below the surface and you could tell that things were getting nasty. The air was rancid, each small draft of hot air pricking at your mind. If you focused, you could hear the shrieking of a trapped wyrm bouncing off your head, much to your disgust and annoyance. Her bright light trying to invade every ounce of your being like she did to each creature. Thankfully, a higher being can’t directly influence one another like that. You had no worries about the infection, but your hatred of it and the being that caused it grew with each moment. 

Until finally you reached another area. The City of Tears. Such a calm and cool place. Nothing more than a simple dodge of guards or enacting of fear in the husks blocked your progress through the great city. Even with the place being the very heart of Hollownest her influence was just a feather’s touch in comparison to the Crossroads. With enough time you could take back the minds of those infected and gather followers of those who wander through. You could imagine it now, an entire city dedicated to peaceful minds, each bug following you to achieve such tranquility. Their sorrows and regrets flowing freely away like the rain down the aqueducts.

As you explore what you hoped would one day be your territory and spoke with any bug or ghost about you found where said aqueducts flow to. Just bellow Lemm’s little antique collection you found the entryway. Down to the Royal Waterways full of trash and muck. Such a place would have to be claimed too, even if you weren’t exactly fond of stretching yourself out even further. You didn’t have to have it all at once, unlike a wyrm, you knew patience, able to sit and wait for your own strength to grow.

Still, you knew it would be better to explore the waterways now rather than later. With one soft hop, you were inside the bowels of the city.

As you entered you felt something else begin to prick and pull at your mind. It wasn’t like before, no higher being attempting to claim you as another mindless husk to use, but something else. Something you weren’t quite sure what yet. It tugged, ever so lightly, that nagging feeling tugged at you. With a focus on it, you tugged back, trying to get a glimpse at what was calling for you.

Nothing but a small glimpse of golden clouds and bronze architecture. A blur of fights and masks. You closed off the connection before you were pulled in any further. You weren’t about to become some unknown being pawns in a game you know nothing about. Still, even as you try to pull away and cute every connection they make, a new string gets attached and another tug to the begins. No matter how much you wish to shut them out, they keep wanting to connect.

With an annoyed sigh, you find a way to avoid being like the other false gods pulled into their ring. You follow not in mind but in body. You follow the pull, feeling the gathering of power to its source, all through the twisted and vile sewers, you will one day turn great.

You found the source, a fat hunched bug. A mask of brass and a fake carapace to match adorned this bug. They muttered about gods and tuning as they rocked slightly from side to side.

Peering into their mind you were fully pulled into their realm. Golden clouds holding aloft the impossible buildings, statues dedicated to beings of power, hundreds of bugs dedicated to the worship of powerful beings… It was what any bug would imagine a realm dedicated to a pantheon of gods would look like. The gods here, most of them at least, weren’t true gods. There power only ascending through the intense worship of the bugs that lived here.

You walked into the first pantheon overconfident, underestimating just how much more powerful some of the creatures were made, and learning the descendants of certain beings were definitely still prowling around. Somehow, they didn’t even let the dead rest, ancient warrior brought out to fight without thought. Even the Godseeker themself taunted you for your first failed attempt.

With the second you didn’t hold back a single thing, you used every ability at your disposal. This particular one prooving annoying, but doable.

The third had you seeing a being that chilled you to your core. A being you had only seen shreds of glimpses in a few creatures nightmares reveling in what they viewed as a new stage to perform. 

Somehow you pulled through to the fourth pantheon. Even as you fought through you were slowly beaten down. Only barely making it through after countless attempts.

The fifth, and what you tiredly hoped would be the final pantheon. Through each person, you fought before, all the harder. Each failed attempt sending you back to start again. Yet another battle against ghosts and the children of higher beings. Till finally, you’re fighting the one who sacrificed themself again. In their purest and strongest. Slowly, you cut them down one last time. Your vision turning white as you went back to Godhome, a champion among gods.

Yet when your vision returned you only saw one single seeker, watching as if this was yet another fight. In the distance, you saw something rise, bright and powerful. 

Just before she descended.

This is who they were attempting to attune with? This is the being they were bringing the dead back for? A selfish wyrm trapped in a realm they barely understood!?

You stood straighter than you had through this whole ordeal. The realm of dreams and minds was yours to control. Even in this warped version created by the seekers, she was still within it. She abused it’s properties, using it without care for what the dream realm was meant to do. You would beat her down right in front of the one who idolized her.

Even when she collapsed you weren’t satisfied. As the dream began to collapse, the ground shattering beneath your feet, you launched yourself at her. Her attempts to teleport away only saving her for a moment. Each time she fled you were right behind, grasping and tearing the fur from her.

She shot upwards, a futile attempt to run again. Pathetic attempts to shoot you down failing as you quickly crawled up to her. 

You jump up, the realm breaking and form around you. Eyes blinded with white as you tear apart everything around you, a promised destruction of everything, of her.

They’re bowing before you. The first bug you saw, their body shaking as they cried praises. Your vision only slowly came back, the world around you seemed smaller, and just a bit clearer. No stench of the wyrms was left. It was only you to control your place. You have your followers now. More power than you ever thought you could have.

You ascended. You ascended so much further than you could ever think of.

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