The Forsaken Hero
I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath. My fingers were numb and cold, my arm aching where the needle pierced the vein. Something clattered onto the pavement, and I looked down to see the needle. It had slipped out of my hand. Nothingness swirled around me, bringing the first sense of peace I'd felt in my short, miserable life. There was no one to miss me, and no one I would miss. There's always someone else to beat or rape. The regulars would move on quickly. I died. Only...wasn't death supposed to be dark? And since when did 'nothingness' have so many gods? Discord: https://discord.gg/PX3xqJdZMY
A New Kind of Magic
Korra laughed and glided forward, twirling once more right in front of Gayron, her skirt swirling around her. "You think it suits me?" she asked again, her voice teasing.
He coughed and turned away, his face flushing a deeper shade of red. "Yes, of course," he mumbled. "Not that you wouldn't look good in anything, but Xiviyah was right. It really brings out the beauty in your eyes."
Her eyes shone as she stepped closer, taking his hand in both of hers. A delicate blush colored her own cheeks now. "Really?"
Gayron half-heartedly tried to pull away, but she held him fast, her grip surprisingly firm. Her eyes were like magnets, and his gaze flickered for a second before finally meeting hers.
He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. "Yeah."
She let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh of relief, then danced away from him, her smile returning, bright and playful. "Good."