#☽ ⋆ [ narrative ]

[grimowled]

Blitzø: riddled w poor grammar and spelling errors

Stolas: practically Shakespeare

The duality of man monster

might you be referring to this lovely exchange with my darling @doublejango, my dear anon? they couldn't be further apart on so many levels (I need not list the countless ways in which they differ, if not oppose each other), and yet ... don't they just complement each other so perfectly?

[lyctoralsaints]

@horiznwlker said "What if they kissed?" and if i wolfwren you.

sabine does not know when it happened, when the blood and the rain had mingled, nor when the sight of platinum hair had become her salvation from the panic that had started to eat away at her ribs. her lightsaber is shut off, and the silence of the field becomes deafening. all she knows is that her body feels like lead as she staggers forward, clumsy hands fumbling to clip her saber to her belt so she may reach for her. mouth against mouth is a brutal thing, a collision of teeth and a muttered apology. sabine is a weeping woman as she gives this kiss –– long overdue, and overwhelming. the rain is heavy as it falls about them, the mud at their feet making the world feel unsteady –– none of it truly matters. not when shin tastes of the ozone of new stars and leaves a burning on her tongue that feels like it may very well consume her. her  shin,  her  wolf. when she pulls away, her hands tremble as she cradles the other's visage between her hands. there is a possibility that the gods of old may very well sing of this as they stare down upon the soaking, battle - ruined landscape of peridea. just a wolf and her moon; just two lost girls and their tether to the light.

[firstwcman]

⛧ — How well do you know Lilith? @metaladam said, Just a reminder that all our time together happened, in case you forgot.

"Of course I haven't, it's the perfect cautionary tale. Heartache and all."

[writers-potion]

Therefore, However, Meanwhile.

An important characteristics of plot is that events must be connect to the next one seamlessly and logically. The three types of relationships between events must be either:

Therefore (a cause-effect relationship)

However (something that the readers don't expect)

Meanwhile (meaningful connection between two different scenes/subplots)

It should never be:

And.

While having multiple episodes to show character and build atmosphere is great, a story must be weaved in a way that the readers are introduced to a chain of plot-driven episodes. That way, your narrative will both flow better and capture the attention of the reader.

Happy writing!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! Also, join my Tumblr writing community for some more fun.

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

[psycadenza]

tristan's jaw clenches tightly . slowly, he shifts to sit closer to her, not yet reaching out to touch her . he watches the TREMBLE of her body for a moment before squeezing his eyes shut .

my name is tristan truesdale . i was bitten by a radioactive spider . and ...

" ... my canon event hasn't happened yet . " he says softly . " because there's nobody it could possibly take from me . "

" not single person cares that i even exist . when i take off that mask, i'm nobody . no family, no friends . and it's ... it's awful . " he's trying to keep his voice calm, doing a better job than even he expected . " i know that it HURTS to lose people, and maybe i'll never fully understand that, but you don't want to be like me . SO many people care about you out there . "

" felicity ... if there's a hundred billion universes beyond our imaginations ... is it so CRAZY to believe that anything's possible ? that you could find a way to be happy with the people you care about ? "

she has no energy for fighting; for arguing, or struggling. THE STRUGGLE ENDED YEARS AGO. whatever was left of her now was the result of guilt slowly eating at her. guit, and responsibilities.

❝ ... my name is ... FELICITY PARKING ... ❞

her voice comes out, weak and feeble. ❝ i was bit by a radioactive spider. ❞ she doesn't move. ❝ i'm pretty sure you ... you know the rest. ❞

a sob. ❝ EVERYONE AROUND ME IS DYING ! ... ❞ that is when her figure trembles slowly, gently arching back towards itself. ❝ and they say that it'll keep happening ... ! ❞

your canon isn't disrupted ... YOU CAN'T STOP THIS. i'm not asking you ... i'm sorry. THERE'S NO OTHER WAY. BENJAMIN !! benjamin -- master -- master PLEASE stay with me, stay with me please, please -- don't leave me -- ! felicity ... something happened to your father today.

❝ but the ONLY WAY i can stop it ... ❞ the only way i could ever be a hero. ❝ ... is if i have NOBODY to lose. ❞

[asacredthebread]

The Art of Surrender

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Danny x F!Reader - 18+

𝙷𝚎’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐.

Warnings/Themes: Sub Danny, Unprotected Sex, Riding, Begging, Soft Danny

wc; 9105

taglist - @musicislove3389 @peaceloveunitygvf @jazzyfigz @sarahbethgvf @fleetingjake

You sat at the kitchen counter, cradling a steaming cup of tea in your hands, the warmth spreading through your fingers and enveloping you in a comforting embrace. The soft glow of the light above cast a gentle radiance around the room, illuminating the well-loved pages of the book that lay open in front of you. Words danced before your eyes like familiar friends, but time had begun to slip away, each sentence drawing you deeper into its comforting narrative. Despite your immersion, you couldn’t shake the thrill of anticipation that thrummed in your chest, building steadily with each tick of the clock.

With each minute that passed, your mind drifted back to Danny, recalling the way he had kissed you goodbye, his voice soft yet filled with an infectious excitement, promising he’d be back before you knew it. Those weeks apart felt elongated, every day stretching as you inhabited the space he’d filled, his laughter, his warmth. The nights had been the hardest, when the absence of his presence loomed large and the silence of the house wrapped around you like a heavy blanket. You remembered the way his energy had always made your home feel alive, each corner bustling with the remnants of laughter and light.

You occasionally glanced up from your book, listening intently to the sounds around the house. The creak of the floorboards, the quiet hum of the refrigerator, and the occasional rustle of the wind against the windows combined into a symphony of solitude. Each sound pulled you deeper into your thoughts, reflecting on how much you missed those spontaneous moments—his quirky dance moves in the kitchen and the way he’d brush his fingers along your arm as he passed by. Little reminders that built a life together, now seemingly distant but still close enough to touch in your mind.

Just as you were lost in a particularly vivid memory of the two of you, you heard it—the unmistakable creak of the front door opening. Your heart quickened, breath catching in your throat, and you looked up with anticipation. There he was, stepping inside, worn yet vibrant, the world outside seemingly melting away as he entered your shared sanctuary.

His long, curly brown hair framed his face, slightly tousled from travel, and the moment his tired brown eyes scanned the room, finding you, a wave of relief washed over him. You couldn’t contain the smile that broke across your face, an instinctual response to the sight of him. Your heart swelled, feeling as if a piece of you, lost in his absence, had finally returned home. His expression mirrored your own, relief flooding his gaze as if he were drinking in the familiar surroundings.

Danny shifted at the threshold, a hand running through his hair in that familiar way, and the warmth in the room surged. You noticed the slight weariness etched on his features, the silent testament to the journey he had just undertaken. But as he took a tentative step forward, that fatigue began to dissipate, overshadowed by the joy that cascaded between you. The darkness of the night outside faded away, leaving just the two of you, cocooned in your own little world.

In that suspended moment, the air sparked with unspoken tension, your eyes locking in a gaze that said more than words ever could. The weight of the distance fell away, dissolving into an energy that once again bound you together. Danny stepped further into the room, absorbing the essence of being back, the quiet safety of home wrapping itself around him like a warm blanket. It felt electric, the shift in the atmosphere, as if the very walls held their breath in anticipation.

You rose from your seat, the book forgotten, and stepped closer. In an instant, the space between you seemed to collapse as you drew him into a warm embrace. His arms circled around you, and you melted into him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your chest, anchoring you both in this shared moment. The scent of him—faintly familiar yet tied to all the memories you cherished—washed over you, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, the culmination of emotions threatening to spill over.

“Hey,” he murmured into your hair, his voice deep and soothing.

“Hey, you,” you replied softly, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. The warmth of his smile ignited a spark within you, illuminating the shadows that had lingered during his absence. You could see the joy reflected in his eyes as he took in the sight of you, and you both laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet intimacy of the kitchen.

Everything that had felt fragmented during his time away began to coalesce into clarity. You could feel the pieces fitting back together, a puzzle reassembling itself bit by bit. In this little sanctuary enveloped in the soft glow of the kitchen light, the hum of your life resumed its natural rhythm. You found joy in the mundane things, in the way his fingers brushed against yours as he reached for a bowl, or the way he cracked a joke that made you laugh until you nearly cried.

As the warmth of the evening settled around you like a tender embrace, the comforting glow of the kitchen light cast a soft halo around Danny, illuminating the affection in his deep brown eyes. Each moment felt saturated with a sense of renewal and connection, a rekindling of a bond that had been stretched but never truly broken. You could feel the air between you crackle with a tangible energy, and drawing closer to him felt both natural and exhilarating.

With a mix of mischief and tenderness, you leaned in, your heart pounding in your chest as you pressed your lips to the warm, smooth skin of his neck. The taste of him lingered on your lips, rich and familiar, and you let the heat of the moment envelop you. Each gentle kiss was a thrill, a sublime exploration of longing that had been building for weeks apart. You focused on the way his skin responded to your touch, the way he shivered and leaned into you, a silent admission of how much he missed your closeness.

You could sense the way his body reacted to you—how the tension in his muscles coiled tighter with each gentle caress, and how his breaths grew deeper, more staggered, punctuated by soft gasps that made your heart race. It was intoxicating to witness the effect you were having on him, to feel his need for you rise and pulse in the warm air enveloping you both.

“God,” he murmured, the word slipping from his lips like a breath of prayer, laced with desperation that radiated from him. “You can’t do that to me and expect me not to… to want you.” His voice was deeper than usual, thick with the weight of his unfulfilled craving, and each syllable sent a tremor of excitement coursing through you.

You smiled against his skin, a wicked glint in your eye as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. “Do you remember what I told you?” you asked, your voice low and teasing, inviting him into a dance of playful tension. You watched as his eyes darkened with anticipation, silently pleading for clarity.

He nodded slowly, the admission hanging between you like a taut string ready to snap. There was vulnerability in his expression, and you loved how he didn’t shy away from it. “I haven’t touched myself at all,” he confessed, the admission falling from his lips as if he had been holding it back for far too long. “It was hard, but I did it for you.”

Your pulse quickened at his words—there was something so intimate about this confession, so raw. The anticipation that threaded through your veins made it feel like the walls of the kitchen were closing in, the world outside fading away until it was just the two of you, wrapped in a cocoon of desire.

“That’s so good of you,” you praised softly, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. The power dynamic intrigued you; knowing he had followed your instructions perfectly sent a rush of pleasure through your body. You edged closer once more, letting your lips brush against his neck, leaving soft, delicate kisses along the expanse of skin. Each gentle press felt like an incantation, awakening a yearning that had lain dormant during your weeks apart.

“Do you feel how much I’ve missed you?” you murmured between kisses, reveling in the way his breath hitched—each gasp igniting the fire in your own core. “You’ve been so patient, waiting for me. But now…” Your voice trailed off as you felt his body leaning toward you, a magnetic pull drawing you both closer. The simple act of kissing him felt like unwrapping a gift, layer by layer, revealing the deep layers of intimacy and connection that spiraled between you.

“Now, I want to see just how long you can hold out,” you teased, your breath warm against his ear. The way he shivered in response sent delicious sparks throughout your body, heightening the sense of anticipation that crackled in the dimly lit room. “Can you do that for me? Can you be good and not touch yourself?”

He swallowed, and his eyes darkened further with burgeoning desire—swimming in need and restraint. “I’ll try,” he stammered, but there was a hint of helplessness in his voice, a soft surrender to the moment. You could see the conflict within him; his body yearned for your touch, but you had laid the foundation for this delicate game, and he was willing to play along, to suffer a little longer for the pleasure of what was to come.

Feeling emboldened, you pressed your lips again to his neck, trailing lower, mapping the soft contours of his collarbone while reveling in each sigh that escaped his mouth. Your kisses were deliberate, slow, teasingly moving against his skin, lingering at the sensitive spots you knew drove him wild. You could feel his pulse quicken beneath your lips, a testament to the fire igniting between you.

“Just think about how good it will feel when we finally come together again,” you breathed, letting the words roll off your tongue like honey. You could see him react physically to the teasing promise—his shoulders tensed, and his breathing turned ragged.

You leaned back again, finally allowing your eyes to lock onto his, searching for that all-too-familiar spark of connection. "I want you to remember this feeling, every touch, every kiss, as a reminder of how much I’ve longed for you. Let this fire grow inside you, let it build… and just hold on." The weight of your words enveloped the air between you, thick with possibility and allure.

Danny’s gaze bore into yours, filled with a mix of need and longing that left you breathless. He held your gaze, a silent agreement pulsing between you—two hearts intertwining in the moonlit whisper of the moment, tethered by desire, but also by the tender promise of what was yet to come. You both stood at the brink of something beautiful, teetering on the edge of anticipation, poised to let the night unfurl its magic all around you.

As the moment thickened with unspoken promises and electric anticipation, you gently took Danny’s hand and led him to the couch. The soft fabric welcomed him as he sank into its embrace, his gaze never wavering from you. It was as though the world around you faded, leaving only the intoxicating intimacy of the two of you in this sacred space.

“Stay right there,” you instructed softly, a playful yet authoritative tone threading through your voice. He nodded obediently, anticipation shimmering in his eyes as you took a step back, allowing him to take in the entire breadth of the scene. There was something exhilarating about having him in this position, encouraged to simply watch. You could see the tension coiling in his muscles, a reflection of his eagerness and the sheer desire that swirled between you.

With deliberate slowness, you allowed a smile to creep onto your lips. “Now, I want you to keep your hands by your sides,” you said, layering your voice with a sweetness that only deepened the gravity of your request. The obedient glint in his eyes confirmed he understood, a silent promise passing between you.

Taking a deep breath, you centered yourself, feeling the confidence welling up from within. Step by step, you began to undress, each movement infused with a sense of purpose and awareness. You started with the hem of your shirt, drawing it slowly up your body, exposing your skin to the air and his hungry gaze. The fabric slid past your waist and fluttered to the floor, leaving you in just your bottoms.

You glanced at Danny’s face, eager to capture every nuanced expression that danced across it. His eyes darkened further as they roamed over your form, filled with a blend of desire, admiration, and a hint of disbelief. His breath hitched, and the way his lips parted slightly told you everything you needed to know; he was completely captivated.

Feeling emboldened, you transitioned into the next phase of your unveiling. You took your time, ensuring that every motion was deliberate, drawing out the tension in the air. You could almost see the way his mind raced as you moved—how he imagined what was still to come and the depth of his yearning intensified with each small reveal.

With a teasing tilt of your head, you let your fingers glide along the waistband of your bottoms, pausing for just a beat, savoring the moment. “Are you watching closely?” you asked, your voice dripping with playful challenge. He nodded vigorously, his eyes locked onto yours with a fervent intensity that made your heart race.

You slowly began to peel away the remaining fabric, the sensation of cool air meeting your skin awakening every nerve ending. You watched his expression morph into one of sheer hunger, the heat pooling in his gaze as you revealed more of yourself to him. It felt exhilarating to see how your actions stirred him—how the anticipation rolled off him like heat from a fire, igniting a shared connection that pulsed through the space between you.

As you stepped out of the last piece of clothing, you allowed yourself the moment to pause, holding his gaze as you stood before him, completely unveiled. The vulnerability mingled with power, and you relished the thrill of it. You could see the struggle within him; the sheer will it took for him to keep his hands obediently at his sides. Every muscle in his body seemed taut, ready to spring forth but restrained by your instructions.

“Look at me, Danny,” you breathed, your voice a gentle command that drew his focus back to your face. “What do you see?”

“Everything,” he replied, his voice low and thick with unfiltered longing. “You’re… beautiful.”

The compliment sent a shiver running through you, and you allowed yourself to bask in the warmth of his admiration. Each moment felt suspended in time, painted vividly with the colors of intimacy and desire. You were in control, but both of you were equally vulnerable, entwined in the dance of unspoken emotions that swirled around you.

Encouraged by his reaction, you moved closer, allowing your hands to trail lightly along your own skin, every caress a shared invitation for him to drink in the sight of you. As you did, the tension in the room escalated palpably, a rich tapestry woven from both your hearts beating as one. You could feel him leaning forward ever so slightly, as if he couldn't resist the pull of your essence, that magnetic force keeping him firmly tethered to the moment.

“Keep your eyes on me,” you urged softly, a hint of urgency woven within your words. Each motion was intentional; you wanted him to feel the weight of your presence, to etch every detail into his memory. You danced your fingers along your collarbone, letting them drift down your sides, showcasing every curve. When you caught his gaze shifting, eager to drink in every bit of you, you felt a surge of satisfaction.

“Good,” you murmured, watching him swallow, every fiber in his being focused on you, carefully observing, desperately wishing for more. His quiet longing acted like a spark, igniting the flames of your own desire—a delicious, heady warmth that spread through your body, leaving you aching for closer contact, yet fully aware of the power of this moment.

“Can you feel how much we’ve both missed this?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question hovered in the air, turning the silence into something tangible, something that hung between you like a sweet tension—ripe and waiting to be broken. The vulnerability shared in that moment was palpable, creating a bond that felt more intimate than skin-deep, interlacing your souls in the quiet solace of your surroundings.

With that, you let your hands fall to your sides, your expression softening as you gazed at him, letting the moment linger in the air, a luxurious pause before whatever came next. You knew you had drawn him to a precipice of yearning, and he waited—breathless and desperate—for the next chapter to unfold. And in that instant, you could feel the world fade away, leaving only the two of you as you held your breath, poised on the brink of an exquisite adventure yet to come.

The charged atmosphere enveloped you both as you slowly moved closer to him, your heart racing in rhythm with the pulsating energy that hung thick in the air. A silent understanding passed between you, and you could see the raw desire igniting in Danny's eyes as you approached the edge of the couch.

With a deliberate, enticing smile, you gently lowered yourself onto his lap, feeling the warmth radiate from his body beneath you. The moment you settled on him, a wave of heat washed over you, a delicious melding of body and spirit that made everything else fade away. You planted your knees on either side of him, positioning yourself just right, feeling how perfectly your forms connected.

And then, you began to move. Slowly at first, rolling your hips against his with a rhythm that felt as natural and instinctive as breathing. The sensation sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, igniting a fire deep within. You relished the way his eyes widened, the way his breath caught as he absorbed the sight and feel of you moving above him. Each gentle grind was a sultry invitation, weaving a spell that drew you both deeper into the moment.

With every undulation, you pressed into him, teasingly building tension as you let your kisses trail along his jawline. You started at the base of his neck, planting soft, lingering kisses that trailed upwards, celebrating the contours of his chin and the warmth of his skin. As you worked your way up toward his earlobe, you could feel his breath hitch, a stuttered sound that only fueled your desire to continue this wicked dance.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice heavy with awe and longing, a gentle tug at the edges of your heart. Your response was a gentle kiss along his neck, savoring the taste of him, feeding off the way his body responded so eagerly to your touch.

You maintained your rhythm, a slow grind that made the world outside your intimate bubble recede even further. You wanted to be intently aware of his reactions, of the way his body tensed beneath you, muscles shifting as he fought to control himself. You wanted him to feel every shift of your movements, every kiss upon his skin, to drown in the depths of this connection you were forging together.

But then, as you leaned in for a particularly teasing sweep of your lips against his neck, you felt Danny’s hands start to drift. His fingers grazed your waist, a subconscious movement fueled by the longing that surged through him. It was an instinctive reaction, a reflection of the need to pull you closer, to frame this exquisite closeness with the touch of his hands.

In a swift yet gentle motion, you caught his wrist before he could rest his hands on your body, holding it steady at his side. The shift in energy was palpable, accentuating the sweetness of your game. “Ah, ah,” you scolded softly, a playful tone lacing your words. “I told you to keep your hands by your sides.”

His gaze flickered with a mixture of disappointment and disbelief, but he complied without hesitation, clenching his jaw as if trying to hold back the urge to wrap his arms around you. The tension between you escalated, becoming electric, heightened by the small act of restraint. His open vulnerability made your heart race even faster, and you couldn’t help but lean closer, pressing your body into his as an added reminder of your presence.

“Good boy,” you encouraged him, your voice barely above a whisper, laced with a teasing edge that made his eyes gleam with renewed desire. “I want you to watch—this is just for you.” The words slipped from your lips, sweet and sultry, igniting a spark of possessiveness in the atmosphere between you.

As you resumed your movement, you increased the pressure of your grinding, feeling the heat radiate between the two of you. You maintained eye contact, savoring the flush that crept along his cheeks, the way his brows furrowed in concentration. Each movement drew moans from him, his breath racing faster as he struggled to contain the storm of sensations swirling within.

The atmosphere crackled with the anticipation of exploration, and you leaned in closer, letting your lips explore the curve of his jaw, trailing soft kisses and playful bites along the way. His scent enveloped you—an intoxicating blend of warmth and earthiness that sent shivers racing down your spine. You wanted more; you craved the deep, intimate connection that lay just below the surface of your playful game.

With each thrust of your hips, you inched closer to pleasure, the friction between you both stirring a wild fire in your core. His breathing quickened, matching the rhythm of your movements, the way he longed to touch you evident in the tension of his body. You delighted in his struggle, every sound he released, and every flare of heat in his gaze as you held him captive in this moment.

“Feel that?” you whispered, your breath warm against his ear as you leaned closer, sending a shiver through him. “Feel how much I want you? How much you want me?” Your words turned into a gentle challenge, digging deeper into the charged atmosphere enveloping you both.

His eyelashes fluttered, and he pressed his lips together, fighting the impulse to let his hands roam. The mere idea that he had to supress that desire was a delicious turn-on for you both. You could feel the tension build—a silent plea—and it drove you to grind your hips against him with even more urgency, each roll coaxing a low groan from his lips.

“Just stay with me, Danny,” you urged, your voice sultry and soft. “Keep your hands where they belong, and let me show you just how good this can feel.” The words were a promise, dripping with seduction, and as you continued to tease him, your kisses along his neck and jawline interspersed with whispers of heated encouragement, you knew this moment was only the beginning of a much deeper exploration.

Time seemed to stretch around you as you savored each sensation, each breath, each sound. The world outside melted into oblivion; it was just the two of you, caught in this luscious cocoon of desire, where every movement ignited the flames of longing and yearning. You leaned into this beautiful, intimate moment, the anticipation of what was to come stirring within both of you like a rising tide, holding the beauty and vulnerability of this connection close to your hearts. As you continued to grind against him, the intoxicating sensations flooded through Danny's body, pulling him further into a haze of desire and submission. The tension in the air was palpable, thickening with every teasing movement and whispered promise. You reveled in the way he surrendered to the moment, his vulnerability enhancing the connection between you.

With each roll of your hips, you felt him melt beneath you, his breath hitching as you moved with intoxicating rhythm. His head fell back against the couch, giving you access to the expanse of his neck, a vulnerable canvas waiting for the imprint of your desire. You leaned in, your lips brushing against his skin softly at first, testing the waters, gauging his reactions.

As your lips traveled along his neck, you began to let your kisses deepen, turning gentle pecks into playful bites. You watched hungrily as the blush of heat spread across his cheeks, a vivid contrast to his usual calm demeanor. Each mark you left felt like a claim, a possessive reminder of the beauty of this intimate moment. You took your time, savoring the sound of his breath hitching as you nibbled on the sensitive skin, tasting the saltiness of his excitement.

“Please… don’t stop,” he whimpered, the plea spilling from his lips in a throaty whisper, both desperate and filled with longing. Each sound he made resonated deep within you, weaving a spell that captivated your senses as surely as your actions captivated him. You could see the battle within him—the craving for closeness, the need to touch and hold you, shadowed by the reminder of your control over the situation.

“Patience, Danny,” you murmured against his skin, sending vibrations of warmth fluttering through him. “You’ve got to remember your place.” The slight scolding in your tone was playful yet firm, drawing out more whines of frustration from him. The contrast between the pleasure you gave him and the denial of touch only deepened his submission, leaving him utterly at your mercy.

You left your mark, suckling and kissing along the length of his neck, relishing in the soft gasps that escaped his lips. Each time you pulled your lips away, you revealed a new hickey, a rosy reminder of how completely he surrendered to you. You adored the sight of him—his eyes fluttering closed, mouth slightly parted, lost in the sensory overload you had created.

His moans grew louder, more desperate, each sound weaving a rich tapestry of need that enveloped you both. “I can’t… I can’t help it,” he gasped, fighting against the constraints you had placed upon him. The way his body curled toward you, straining against the invisible boundaries, was intoxicating. You were his world in that moment, and the heat radiating off him told you everything you needed to know about the depth of his submission.

“You’re doing so well,” you encouraged, your voice low and sultry. You met his gaze, and the intensity of his desire mirrored yours. “But remember, no touching. Just let me take care of you.” With confidence, you pressed another soft bite to the place just below his ear, and a shudder raced through his body, a physical testament to the control you had over his pleasure.

Danny’s submission was a sweet nectar, intoxicating in its purity. The way he let go of all hesitations, the way he surrendered completely to your ministrations, was a power unlike any you had known. You edged deeper into the exploration of his limits, more comfortable with the knowledge that he was becoming increasingly pliable beneath you.

The hickeys you left were like painted strokes on his canvas, a beautiful display of your shared intimacy. The skin beneath your lips bloomed warmly under your touch, and the more you marked him, the more visible evidence of your connection remained. He was no longer just Danny; he was yours, a willingly vulnerable creation molded by your hands and desires.

“Please,” he whimpered again, the sound threading through the air like a fragile thread connecting your worlds. “I want to touch you so badly.” His voice was strained, raw with yearning, and it sent shivers cascading through you. You could feel the pull of his desire, his desperate wish to claim some part of you as you were claiming him.

You responded tenderly, peppering another kiss along his neck, punctuating your movements with a teasing flick of your tongue. “I know, sweetheart,” you whispered, your words caressing his skin and echoing in his ears. “But you have to learn patience. It’ll only make it better when I finally let you.” There was a certain deliciousness in prolonging the anticipation, in drawing this moment out to its fullest extent.

With each kiss, you could see him growing more and more vulnerable, slipping deeper into the warm embrace of submission. The weight of the world faded, and the only thing that remained was the shared intimacy that flowed between you. He surrendered completely, letting go of all resistance, allowing himself to be lost in the pleasure you wove around him.

As you continued to leave your mark upon him, you found your own pleasure rising as well, an echo of the desperation he felt. The connection was potent and primal, and with every kiss, every bite, you layered on the intimacy, carving out a space where nothing else mattered. The deliciousness of the moment enveloped both of you, creating a sweet sanctuary hinged on trust, longing, and an unspoken promise of more to come.

“Just breathe for me,” you murmured softly, tracing your fingertips along the lines of his jaw, watching as he closed his eyes to escape into the sensations you created. You watched him, an exquisite masterpiece of longing bruised and softened by your touch, and in that moment, you knew you would savor every second as you danced together along the bounds of desire and submission.

In that gentle rhythm, you continued to kiss, to mark, to explore, fully aware of the power you held in your hands as he remained open and willing—an offering of his own free will. The delicious tension between pleasure and restraint sent ripples of excitement coursing through your veins, and you lost yourself in the dance, both of you teetering on the edge of ecstasy, bound by the intoxicating allure of what awaited in the depths of your connection.

The atmosphere pulsed with an electric charge, a heady mix of desire and anticipation that enveloped both of you, closing out the world outside. Danny’s breaths were quick and uneven, every ragged sigh echoing the depth of longing that had built between you over the last few moments. You could see the desperation in his eyes, reflecting the restraint you held over him—a tantalizing cocktail of authority and intimacy that made your pulse race.

Your movements grew more deliberate, teasingly slow as you felt the heat radiate from his body beneath you. “You want more, don’t you?” you asked softly, delighting in the way his gaze flickered with yearning. As you shifted your weight, you couldn’t help but lean closer, offering him the promise of fulfillment, the tantalizing prospect of crossing that final boundary.

With a sultry smile, you let your fingers trail down his abdomen, feeling the taut muscles beneath your touch. You paused just above the waistband of his jeans, savoring the way his body responded to every deliberate caress. “Let’s see just how much you’ve been waiting for this.”

As you expertly unzipped his jeans, the soft click of the zipper felt like a thousand silent promises whispered inside a crowded room. Parting the fabric slowly, you could already see the evidence of his desire—a pulse of excitement that quickened your own heartbeat. You watched as his face filled with anticipation, and you couldn’t resist the urge to tease him just a little longer.

With deliberate slowness, you pushed his jeans down just enough to expose him fully, a breathless moment where you both lingered, hearts racing. Taking the opportunity to gaze at the sight before you, your breath hitched at the intensity of it all. He was completely bare and vulnerable, and the sight only intensified your need for him.

“Please,” he croaked out, desperation lacing his voice as he shifted beneath you. “Let me touch you. I need to feel you.” There was a pleading note in his tone, one that ignited a spark of desire deep within your core. You loved the way he was unraveling beneath your touch, the way the sweet need for you flowed from his words like molten honey.

“Soon,” you whispered, your voice laced with a teasing promise. You perched higher on his lap, your body trembling with anticipation as you aligned yourself above him. “First, I want to feel you inside me.” You watched the instant spark of lust ignite in his eyes, the way his body instinctively tensed, ready and waiting for you to take that sweet plunge.

With a gentle push, you lowered yourself onto him, the sensation exquisite as you enveloped him in your warmth. The world melted away, leaving only the two of you and the intoxicating feeling of connection that surged deeply between your bodies. A low, primal groan escaped from him, an involuntary sound that echoed the pleasure blooming between you.

You paused for a moment, savoring the intoxicating feeling of him filling you, allowing yourself to get lost in the sensation—every inch of him igniting a wildfire of desire that spread through your body like an electric current. Your breath mingled with his, creating a sweet symphony of longing as you adjusted, letting the moment wash over you completely.

Then, without hesitation, you began to move, riding him slowly, deliberately. Each movement sent ripples of pleasure coursing through both of you, drawing out soft gasps and whimpers as you lost yourselves in the rhythm you created together. The sensation of him sliding within you was overwhelming, a heady mix of fullness and indescribable ecstasy that filled the space between you.

“Oh my God,” Danny breathed out, voice strained yet awash with a serene pleasure, “This feels so amazing.” You could see him struggling against the understanding of your earlier boundary, his hands twitching at his sides, longing to touch you—to trail his fingers along your skin, to feel the warmth radiate from your body.

“Please, I need to touch you,” he begged again, urgency coloring his every word, and the straining hope in his tone only made you want to tempt him further. You knew that the denial of that instinct, that sweet yearning, only fueled both of you. It was a dance of patience and unrestrained pleasure, and you intended to linger in this moment, letting him writhe in the tension of it all.

“Just a little longer,” you encouraged softly, entranced by his need for you. Each downward motion intensified the connection you shared, a magnetic pull that blurred the lines of your separate desires. “I want you to feel every second of this. The sweetness of anticipation is part of the pleasure.”

Your movements remained slow and tantalizing, drawing him deeper into the intoxicating ache of submission that you cultivated. The way his eyes brimmed with need only ignited your own hunger, and you wanted to keep that fire ablaze, to draw it out as long as possible.

As you rolled your hips, taking him deeper, the sounds that escaped from him grew more urgent—soft pleas and little whimpers flooding the air like music. The tension of restraint painted his features, so expressive and vulnerable, and you longed to touch him as much as he longed to touch you.

“Danny,” you breathed, leaning in closer, letting your body press against his, the intimacy of your closeness sending tremors through both of you. “Just feel this with me. Let it wash over you.” You cherished the way he strained to hold onto the moment, the way his body reacted to every flick of your hips, sending him spiraling deeper into pleasure.

“God, you’re driving me crazy,” he managed, and the confession ignited a thrill within you. The way he was losing himself in each motion was exhilarating, a reminder of the power your connection held. You loved that he felt this way—so exposed, so vulnerable, and yet so utterly captured by you.

“Let go, Danny.” The words were barely above a whisper, a mere suggestion hanging between you as you continued to ride him, and it seemed to strike a deep chord within him. He shifted beneath you, his breath hitching once again as your words encircled him like a coil, tugging him closer to that edge.

“Just let me touch you,” he pleaded one more time, the urgency climbing higher in his tone, and you could feel your own desire cresting painfully inside you. His restraint was a beautiful paradox—a magnetic force drawing you closer together as much as the pleasure itself.

“Soon, I promise,” you assured, giving his cheek a soft caress as you maintained your slow, deliberate movements. Each rise and fall felt exhilarating, connecting everything in that moment. In the dance of submission and desire, you found the harmony of exploration, deeply entwined in each other’s worlds.

The rhythm escalated, leaning toward a crescendo, yet you held back, savoring the taste of every glide, every kiss, and every tremor shared between your bodies. You could sense the abyss of ecstasy swirling just beyond your reach and hungered to dive in together, twined in a shared bliss that echoed with a deeper sense of connection than you had ever known.

“Just a little longer,” you whispered, your voice melting into the air, becoming part of the moment, the promise of what was to come flickering like a candle’s flame in the passion that consumed you both. Every second stretched, thickening the air with longing, and the delicious patience was intoxicating in its own right. You wanted this moment to last forever, to revel in the sweet lull of desire before the inevitable storm of release unfolded before you. The air between you crackled with anticipation, a silent promise hanging in the charged atmosphere that enveloped you both. Each slow roll of your hips was a tantalizing tease, every moment stretching into an eternity filled with pleasure and restraint. Danny's desperate pleas echoed in your mind, igniting a fire of longing and desire within you that was almost overwhelming.

With every flicker of his gaze, you felt the weight of his yearning, the need for touch that lay just beneath the surface, begging to be released. You could see the conflict dancing in his eyes—a battle between submission and the overwhelming desire to pull you closer, to connect in a way that transcended words. You knew it was time, time to let the boundaries dissolve completely, to allow him the freedom to touch you, to explore this connection fully.

“Okay,” you breathed, your voice tender and laced with excitement. “You can touch me now.” The words hung in the air between you, and in the instant they left your lips, the shift was palpable. You watched as his expression transformed, urgency sparking within him as he processed your permission.

In an instant, his hands shot up, finding their place on your hips, fingers curling possessively around you, pulling you closer in a desperate motion. The moment his warm hands made contact, a delightful shiver raced down your spine, igniting a rush of heat that pooled deep within you. There was something exquisitely thrilling about the way he enveloped you, how your bodies pressed together, merging into one rhythm, one heartbeat.

“God, yes,” he breathed, his voice thick with longing as he guided your movements. The urgency in his grip intensified, and you indulged in the sensation of his hands traveling across your skin, exploring the curves of your body, finding solace in your shared connection. You had relinquished control, and now he grasped the opportunity with fervor, his fingers exploring your waist, your hips, memorizing the outline of you beneath his touch.

Every pull and push of your bodies together sent waves of ecstasy ricocheting through you both, intertwining desire and intimacy like a beautifully woven tapestry. As he pulled you deeper against him, you felt every inch of him pressing into you, the heat radiating from where your bodies met sparking a scorching fire. You could sense his need pouring out of him, raw and unfiltered, and it fueled your own desires, taking you higher with each tender touch.

“Is this okay?” he asked breathlessly, his gaze burning into yours, filled with a mix of hunger and reverence. His fingers dug gently into your skin, as if he were afraid to break the fragile spell of the moment. You nodded, unable to form words as you felt the pull of his intentions, the need to savor every second of this revelation.

“Just like that,” you urged softly, encouraging him to explore, to let his instincts guide him as your bodies flowed together. His hands became your anchor, grounding you in the shared sensation of pleasure as they traversed the landscape of your hips, moving around to the small of your back, fingers tracing the outline of your figure, pulling you closer still.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp that sent shivers cascading through you. The desperation in his tone ignited something primal within you, an undeniable connection that deepened with every insistence of his hands, every intoxicating caress. You were both lost in the rhythm of exploration, the slow ascent to the heights of ecstasy.

Encouraged by your signals, he began to guide your movements with more confidence, rolling his hips up into you, matching the cadence of your rhythm. The tension mounted between you as he drew you in closer, the world around you fading into a blur of warmth and sensation. Each thrust was electric, sending jolts of pleasure spiraling through your core, forcing you to gasp and moan, releasing sounds of pure bliss into the air.

His fingers continued to explore, trailing across your skin with a gentle urgency, every brush feeling like a star igniting against the night sky. He pulled you tighter against him, and you could feel his heartbeat quickening, the way his body responded to yours, instinctively yearning to lose itself in the ecstasy you created together. Each movement brought a deep sense of intimacy, a shared understanding that transcended any previous boundaries.

“Please,” he breathed again, that burning need coloring his voice, “I want to feel you more.” The plea slipped from his lips like a mantra, igniting something wild within you. You could sense the desire bubbling just beneath the surface, an eager need that threatened to overflow.

“Then feel me,” you whispered, a hint of encouragement giving rise to that blaze of urgency in his eyes. “I want you to take this.” With those words, you allowed him to guide not just your movements, but your connection, trusting him to navigate the depths of this intimate moment while still relishing the taste of vulnerability.

His hands found their way to your thighs, pushing them apart slightly, encouraging you to settle into a rhythm that was intoxicatingly slow yet electric. The heat pooling where you connected intensified with every deliberate motion, and you could feel the pull of pleasure rising within you like a tide. The sounds escaping your lips were primal, each gasp and moan echoing the sweet urgency that hung thick in the air.

“I—” he began again, every word tumbling out in a rush, barely masking the heat of his desire. “I want to dive deeper with you.” There was a fierce need reflected in his eyes, a sincerity that made your heart race faster, making you ache to take the plunge alongside him.

The way he pulled you closer, the way his hands explored, made you want to lose yourself completely in the moment. It was exhilarating to feel him falling deeper into this connection, his touch becoming more sure, more desperate, fanning flames that had been kindled since your first kiss.

With every thrust of your bodies, you felt an exquisite harmony forming, every second stretching out into an eternity of shared bliss. The boundaries of your desires began to blur, intertwining as the urgency of your connection demanded to be fed, nourished by the taste of one another.

As his fingers journeyed back up to your waist, you could feel his strength, the way he cherished you—it pushed you even higher into the quest for connection. The sensation of his fingers digging lightly into your hips only intensified the urgency within you, merging the lines between pleasure and urgency into one intoxicating experience.

“Don’t stop,” you breathed, urging him on as a ripple of anticipation coursed through your body. The way he responded to your encouragement fueled the flames burning between you both, a primal dance of exploration that threatened to consume you whole. The sweet agony of your joined movements melded into a symphony of desire, every touch igniting more heat, entwining your souls in the elegance of each heartbeat.

Danny’s grip tightened around your waist, guiding your motions as he pushed you closer to him, losing himself in the shared rhythm that surged through both of you. This was a moment of pure adoration, a tapestry woven with threads of trust, intimacy, and longing, and you never wanted it to end.

In that dance of desperation and desire, you felt yourself spiraling closer to the precipice. With every heartbeat, every gasp, it became clearer just how far you had both come in willingly surrendering to this exquisite connection—as if time itself had slowed, devoting an eternity to simply exploring one another’s bodies, heart, and soul. And you knew you would ride this wave of ecstasy together, savoring every moment as you both continued to dive deeper into the bliss waiting just beyond the horizon.

The rhythm of your bodies crescendoed, weaving a tapestry of raw intimacy and shared pleasure that enveloped you both completely. Each push and pull tugged at the very fabric of your connection, driving you both closer to the edge, where euphoria awaited. As the heat mounted, the intensity of the moment took hold, intensifying every sound, every sigh, and every gasp that escaped your lips and echoed within the intimate space you created.

With every movement, you felt the world around you fading away, leaving only the two of you lost in this profound connection. The buildup within you tightened, coiling like a spring ready to unfurl, and you surrendered to the waves of ecstasy that washed over you, carrying you to heights you had yearned for. The sensations overwhelmed your senses, igniting a fire in every nerve ending.

Danny’s hands, ever steady on your hips, guided you as he thrust deeper, the delicious friction sending jolts of pleasure surging through you. You could see the flicker of determination and desire in his eyes, the embodiment of every plea, every whisper that had brought you to this moment. Each gasp that tumbled from his lips only spurred you on, their urgency urging both of you to give in to the sweet surrender that beckoned.

“Oh, yes,” you breathed, the words spilling out in a rush as the tension built higher within you. “Just like that, Danny. You’re doing so well.” The praise spilled from your lips without thought, and the warmth in his gaze told you just how much those words meant to him. They were a balm to his desire, a reward for his submission—a validation that fired up the longing in you, too.

“Please don’t stop,” he implored, his voice barely more than a whisper, thick with desire and the sweetness of vulnerability. Your heart swelled at his plea; the way his composure slipped and gave way to raw, yearning need deepened your desire. You moved together in a beautifully synchronized dance of bodies, surrendering to the rhythm of passion as if it were an art form being painted by the gentle strokes of your movements.

The crescendo approached, the delicious tension building, and you felt yourself spiraling into that exquisite abyss of release. “I’m so close, Danny,” you gasped, feeling the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing against you as you neared the peak of that euphoric mountain. “Feel me. Feel how much I want this.”

“Me too,” he breathed, eyes wide with an intensity that made your heart race. “I want you more than anything.”

And with the final thrust, everything shattered into a brilliant cascade of sensation. You succumbed to the blissful tide, ripping through you like lightning as waves of pleasure washed over, pulling you both under in the most euphoric embrace. The world exploded into a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations, and it felt as though time itself stood still while you cascaded together into the depths of shared ecstasy.

For those moments suspended in time, you were lost to everything but each other, intertwined in a glorious dance of passion that felt both timeless and achingly ephemeral. Each pulse of pleasure resonated deeply within you, a symphony of sensations that harmonized with the depth of your connection, binding you closer together even as you both surrendered to the bliss.

As the waves receded, you found yourself drifting back down, the euphoric high giving way to a blissful haze. You remained entwined, feeling the heaviness of your bodies melded together, both utterly spent yet exhilarated by the experience you had just shared. The beautiful afterglow settled around you like a soft blanket, cocooning you both in warmth and satiation.

With a tender smile, you brushed a few stray strands of hair from Danny's forehead, your heart swelling with love and satisfaction. Finally, you found your voice, soft yet filled with admiration. “Danny, you were incredible,” you praised, your tone filled with the sincerity that pulsed in your heart. “You were so well behaved for me.”

His eyes flickered with a mix of pride and exhaustion, a contented smile playing at the corners of his lips as he reveled in your words. The adoration in your gaze made him even more pliant, the satisfaction coursing through him amplifying the desire to please you in every way possible.

“I missed you so much,” you continued, each word a sweet caress that lingered in the air between you. “Every moment we were apart felt like an eternity, and I was counting down the seconds until I could have you like this again.”

His expression softened, vulnerability painting his features. “I missed you, too. You drive me crazy in the best ways.” He chuckled lightly, the sound warm and reverberating in the quiet space around you. But deep down, you could sense his submissive side shining through even brighter now—the part of him that wanted nothing more than to cater to your needs, to bask in the warmth of your approval.

“Do you know how much I love you?” you whispered, letting the words hang in the air for a moment, letting them settle deeply in his heart. The impact was immediate, and you watched as his skin flushed with a beautiful warmth, a shy smile breaking across his face as he soaked in the affection you showered upon him.

“I love you,” he replied softly, the sincerity in his voice wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. “More than I could ever say.” The words carried a weight that resonated deep within you—symbols of your bond, tangible and heartfelt, solidifying the connection that had drawn you together time and again.

You tightened your hold around him, savoring the moment, basking in the glow of your shared intimacy. “You deserve to know how well you did for me today. I’m so proud of you.” Your voice was a gentle murmur, sweet as honey, but your words held a gravity that pressed against the very edges of his heart. They caressed him like a balm, soothing the remnants of vulnerability laid bare in your presence.

He leaned into you, nuzzling against your shoulder, a smile on his face that revealed both satisfaction and contentment. The way his body relaxed against you said so much, as if he were finally letting go of all the reservations that had plagued him before. “I just want to make you happy,” he sighed, the weight of his words settling into the space between your bodies like a promise.

“You are making me happy,” you reassured him, your voice steady and full of warmth. You knew deep down that this was the essence of your connection—the ability to bare your souls to one another, to explore the depths of emotional and physical submission, to let love flow unfettered between your hearts.

As he nestled closer, you could feel him growing heavier against you, exhaustion settling in his bones. The satisfaction radiating from his body was palpable, a blend of vulnerability and sweetness that tugged at your heartstrings. It was a heady feeling, knowing that he had submitted to you so fully, that he had surrendered himself to the experience you crafted together.

In that quiet, tender moment, as he drifted into a gentle repose, you kept your fingers tracing little patterns against his skin, whispering soft words of devotion, letting him know how cherished he truly was. “You’re safe with me, Danny. Always remember that.” Each syllable was drenched in affection, echoing the depths of your feelings that only deepened with every shared heartbeat.

His eyelids fluttered slightly, a blissful smile lingering at the corners of his lips as he melded deeper into your embrace, exhaustion giving way to tranquility. You could see it—the way he relished the satisfaction of the moment, the embodiment of submission to your heart that made everything feel complete.

And as you held him like that, with the world falling quiet around you, you knew that this bond—this connection you shared—was something deeply special, something that transcended the physical plane. It was a beautiful intertwining of souls, a serene dance of love that promised the sweetness of forever. You reveled in the knowledge that each moment together would only serve to strengthen the ties that bound you as individuals who belonged together.

In that deep, affectionate silence, you both drifted further into relaxation, secure in the warmth of one another’s bodies, minds, and hearts—a perfect lullaby of love, connection, and harmony.

[sunderingstars]

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ INTRODUCTION ⌝

sampo analysis m.list

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

— hello & welcome to my dark twisted mind (full of sampo theories)

— this is the first major analysis project i’ve taken on, so i’m very excited to lay out all the evidence i’ve found — i’m trying to keep it as open-ended & -minded as possible, even though i’m biased out of sheer interest towards the aha!sampo theory.

— i’m sure there are things in here that are common knowledge, but since i tracked down every single sampo reference and voice line (literally) on the wiki during an obsession-induced state for the better part of two months, i’m hoping there’s some information here that may be new or less-discussed as well!

— i’ll be uploading each sub-topic as a separate post (because i have a lot to say about so many things), but depending on your preferences you can always follow/block the ⌞ 🎭 ⌝ tag, which is going to be the tag i use for anything relating to this project.

— here’s a brief outline of the topics i’ll be covering:

visual cues + art (aha splash art, kit, body language & confidence, performance & performative emotion, eidolons, etc.)

vocal cues + voicelines (third person references, voicelines, worldview, self-awareness, gender, etc.)

scene analysis (intro scene, belobog, sampo & sparkle’s conversation, fourth wall breaking, mr. cold feet, dream bubbles, etc.)

specific topics (placement in the narrative, jokes & situational comedy, the astral express, etc.)

specific theories (“retirement,” playing the long game, risk vs. reward, man or muppet?, “committed to the bit,” aha is not exempt from The Rules, etc.)

extra info on the masked fools as an organization, aeonic consciousness, and sampo character details outside of elation!sampo theories

as well as counterarguments and a conclusion + anything i feel like adding along the way!

— the next few posts i’ll be uploading will be my masterlists (yes, plural, i am insane 😔💔) so i can get ahead of the curve, then it’s onto the real meat of things. this is a passion project for me, so i am very grateful for everyone’s support thus far (seriously, y'all are so sweet) !!

— as always, feel free to send me asks if you want elaboration on one thing or another, or just want to talk about your own thoughts/theories. hope you enjoy!

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

© analysis by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[winxanity-ii]

𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

╰ ⌞ᴍᴜʟᴛɪ-sʜɪᴘs 🇫‌🇮‌🇨‌🇸‌⌝

𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒━━ ❝I envy those ignorant to the way Gods toy with us.❞

𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛- you're the object of many powerful men desires; from gods to warriors...they all want you.

..... ... ..... ━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━ ..... ... .....

. ⇘ ⇙ .

《 𝔸𝕠𝟛 𝕧𝕖𝕣. | 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕥𝕡𝕒𝕕 𝕧𝕖𝕣. | ℚ𝕦𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕧 𝕧𝕖𝕣. 》

..... ... ..... ━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━ ..... ... .....

Parts: 00 ┃ 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁 - 338 wc

01 ┃ 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 - 1.6k wc

02 ┃ 𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐲 - 2.4k wc

03 ┃ 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 - 4.2k wc

04 ┃ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 5.7k wc

05 ┃ 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 3.8k wc

06 ┃ 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 - 8.0k wc

07 ┃ 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐥 - 5.3k wc

❏ Note: this fic will be a mixture of EPIC: The musical and the many variations of Greek mythological Gods to better fit the narrative. for example, even though we know Odysseus cheated on Penelope MANY times throughout his 12 years from home, Jorge twisted to where he stayed loyal...I will not be doing that...if it calls for it, Odysseus will be breaking vows again, so basically keeping close to the original materials with Jorge's twist... 🥴😭😭

⌜𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬!𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐂⌟

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　ᴇᴘɪᴄ!ᴀᴜ　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

➢ 𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥-𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚 ➢ 𝐀𝐝𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞/𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ➢ 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 ➢ 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐲/𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫 ➢ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 ➢ 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨��/𝐌𝐚𝐣𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡(𝐬)

[teddywook]

intoxicated ꨄ sungchan

warnings. first person narrative, smut, mention of alcohol consumption and others substances, mdni, semi-public sex, non idol!sungchan x fem!reader, kinda situationship to lovers?, and more i guess...

words. 1.119k

hope you guys like it since it's my first attempt at a fic here (also the first time i write smut). english isn't my firts language, please let me know if something isn't clear enough. enjoy !!

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

the music sounds loudly around me, i feel the vibrations from the speakers shake my chest. my senses are clouded, the alcohol hindering my movements and the smell of cigarettes stinging my nose, making me feel dizzy

my eyelids feel heavy, but i force them open when a strange sensation tickles the back of my neck

dark, big wide-open eyes stares at me from the other side of the crowd of people. i look at sungchan with his eyes fixed on me and i give him a smile before my eyelids droop again, letting myself be enveloped by the music again

we've been in a tug of war for a while, just playing cat and mouse. i want him and he wants me, we simply hadn't done anything to deal with it. but nothing to avoid it either

i feel hands rest on my hips and i open my eyes. he crossed the room to approach me

sungchan is huge compared to my small body, so very tall and so sinfully handsome. his eyes are glassy, ​​bright with lust, he licks his lips and his grip tightens on my skin as i press my body to his. our eyes glued as we begin to dance obscenely together

at one point i have my back against his chest, my hips making circles against his crotch. i can feel his bulge pressing into the curve of my ass, his fingers digging into my skin. his breath is hot on my neck as he leans in to whisper in my ear

—can we go somewhere else?

i feel dizzy between the sensation of his lips on my ear and his hands holding my waist, i can only nod my head and let him drag me out of the place

his lips find mine as soon as my back hits an alley wall. i'm locked between his body and the wall. hot and cold, hardness against softness

his lips tastes to alcohol and sweetness, to tobacco and glory, to sin and paradise

i almost complain when he stops kissing me, but the feeling of his mouth leaving wet kisses on my neck makes me sigh. one of his hands runs along my thighs and squeezes my ass, the other holds my cheek, tilting my head to have better access. i let out a moan when i feel a sting, his lips sucking on my skin to leave a hickey

he kisses me again and his hands go under my dress, kneading my ass. mine get tangled in his hair and pull on it. i feel his cock, hard under the clothes, rub against the skin of my bare thighs. i let out a loud moan when i move my hips and his crotch rubs against mine, he groans into my lips before he breaks the kiss, a thin thread of saliva connecting our mouths. i look at him with wide eyes, heavy breaths leaving our mouths

sungchan watches me expectantly, his eyes searching for any sign to stop. but seeing him like this, with swollen lips, heavy breathing, eyes shining with lust, hair disheveled

how could i deny him something when he looked so tempting and angelic at the same time?

i grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him close to me, our noses touching as i talk over his mouth

—please channie... fuck me

he doesn't need another word to kiss me again, hungrier than before, almost eager, needy. he lifts my dress to my waist, his hand reaches my cunt over my panties, pressing against my throbbing clit

—fuck... you're so wet

broken moans leave my lips when his hand sneaks into my underwear. his fingers sliding inside me easily due my slick. his fingers move in and out of my pussy, making my legs shake. the feeling of vertigo makes me lean my head against the wall, my eyes squinting backwards

—please sungchan... i want you

my voice comes out in a sob, sounding pathetic and needy, but i don't care. desire is bigger than shame right now

—need to prepare you more, baby. i don't want to hurt you if i'm too big for you

—i can take all of you, i swear

he sighs on my lips and kisses my cheek

—how can i deny you when you ask for it with that beautiful expression on your face

i heard the sound of his belt, then the zipper of his pants. his arms nimbly lift me against the wall and i wrap my legs around his waist for more stability. one of his hands holds my ass for support and the other holds his cock against my pussy

—tell me if it's too much

he looks me in the eyes and i nod with a smile to reassure him, but my expression changes as soon as i feel his cock push its way through my walls, stretching me painfully delicious

i let out a slightly louder moan, my nails digging into the back of his neck and I let my head fall back

—you're taking me so well, beauty, such a good girl

—feels so good channie

—like that baby, let me hear you

senseless babbling leaves my lips, moans and whimpers as he fills me up. sungchan's hands dig almost possessively into my skin, his growls over my neck making shivers run down my spine

one of his hands reaches my clit and rubs circles, making me feel the heat accumulate in my low belly. my breathing quickens, my eyelids tighten

sungchan hisses at the feeling of my fingers pulling too hard on the hair at the back of his neck, but instead of stopping him, it encourages him to speed up the movement of his hand

—that's it honey, cum for me

—fuck sungchan!

orgasm hits me like a wave. spasms run through my body, forcing me to press closer against his. i'm at the highest point when i feel the heat of his cum filling me, his heavy breathing hitting my neck

the calm comes to us like a breeze, i feel the rise of his heart couple with mine through slow breath

he lifted his face and our gazes meet, sweat drips from his forehead and his eyes remain glassy. there's something in his fucked-up expression, something beautiful and dirty at the same time. an almost overwhelmelming sensation, which numbs your body and intoxicates your mind

is it possible to become addicted to a sensation?

but when he smiles at me, with a sweet and loving gesture on his face, as his cock stills deep inside me and his cum drips down my thighs, i realize that it is

[crowandmoonwriting]

Chapter Reviews: When You're Coming Back to a Longer WIP

Has it been a while since you've written your WIP? Anything could have come up, life, new WIPs, new hobbies, etc. It's okay! It might be intimidating to return to your WIP and reread it all over again (especially if you get sidetracked a lot, like I do!), so make a Chapter Review outline!

Here's what it is, and how you do it:

Chapter Number: Chapter Name

Major Plot Points: make some bullet-point notes of what happens in the chapter. Keep it strict, make sure this is the bare bones of what is most important in the plot. You can address other elements later in this list.

Characters introduced: list them in order of appearance; keep main characters bolded or in CAPS, minor characters in lower case, and make sure to note characters that are introduced here but only in conversation or narrative with (mentioned)

Worldbuilding introduced: writing fantasy, and need to keep track of flora, fauna, geography, even bits of language? Keep them here, for easy reference!

Notes for later in the book: make a note of the characters' emotional states here (for emotion-based arcs and to keep consistency), foreshadowing, or other things you want to adress later in the book. This is also the place to note where this chapter is in a specific plot arc (if using a classic plot pyramid structure for example, note that this chapter is part of the Rising Action, the Exposition, etc.). You can also mark down motifs and themes in this chapter you want to explore later on.

Now it's true, you should reread your chapters the first time you make this diagram, and that noting everything will take some time, but there are three advantages to creating Chapter Review outlines: (1) you come to understand your story in depth, noting what you have written and evaluating why, which will make it easier to edit in later drafts, (2) you can oversee the entire draft for consistency in plot, characterisation, motifs and themes, and (3) if you have to leave your WIP for whatever reason, for whatever length of time, you can come back and dive in with a deep knowledge of everything going on without a lengthy reread!

I hope this helps you! It's done wonders for me so far getting back to a longer WIP (my main WIP On Crimson Wings) and it will be so beneficial when I'm starting my second draft. Well met and fare thee well! -- Crow ☽✧☾

[cilil]

☽ Late night musings - Melkor, Mairon & commitment ☾

While we know and love Angbang for explosive and passionate romance and chemistry, I think you can also tell a lovely tale about commitment with it.

Let's face it: Melkor can be pretty annoying and chaotic so you gotta make this work, especially if you're an order-obsessed control freak like Mairon is (affectionate). They have to learn what their boundaries are and teach the other to respect it.

What they do have going for them in that regard is that Melkor actually appears to be willing to give Mairon at least some trust and respect and let him handle things on his own, which I think is key to the success of their relationship (be it romantic or platonic) because Mairon is one of, if not the most independent Maia who knows exactly what he wants and how to get it. Imo he absolutely would've left Melkor and gone back to Aulë/moved on to another Vala if he hadn't gotten what he wanted (and what Melkor promised him) out of their relationship.

It's always been interesting to me how this seems to be the one instance/one of few where Melkor puts in at least enough effort on his part to keep up his end of the bargain. I'd even go as far as to say that Mairon managed to rein him in a bit because, as we all know, Melkor's little kingdom of evil would've collapsed much sooner without his help.

I know, I know, shipping glasses and all that (sue me lol), but another reason why I think it's interesting to consider that the relationship between Melkor and Mairon is surprisingly positive compared to how they treat other people - even if you adhere to strict canon only - is that the existence of such interactions with others strengthens the narrative that no one and nothing is born evil and everyone is at least theoretically redeemable, which is quite important to the legendarium as a whole.

[lyctoralsaints]

✧     ֺ    ˖     ⎎ @draconikia said ❛ apologies, madam, i didn't see you there. ❜ // trevor belmont to alucard ( he thinks he’s funny. )

a  pale  appendage  raises  to  sweep  platinum  tresses  over  his  shoulder,  ever  aware  of  the  other's  presence  behind  him.  trevor,  he  thinks,  is  a  glutton  for  embarrassment  or  otherwise,  just  an  idiot.  but  he  is  precious  to  him  ––  all  the  banter  and  threats  and  insults.  he  wonders  if  trevor  is  aware  of  the  adoration  the  dhampir  holds  for  him;  it  will  never  meet  an  end.  in  fact,  alucard  fears  he  will  live  his  entire,  immortal  life  missing  trevor  belmont  when  he  finally  leaves  him.  there's  a  soft  smile  that  tugs  at  his  tiers  at  the  thought,  at  the  tone  that  stirs  him  from  it.  then  his  nose  is  wrinkling  ––  oh,  trevor  belmont  is  a  jokester,  that's  for  sure.  and  he  may  not  mind  the  way  he  is  bumped  or  the  bewilderment  they  both  play  off  so  well.  he  throws  him  a  glare;  the  lilt  of  his  voice,  the  accent,  the  coolness  .    .    .  he  has  to  fight  the  way  his smile nearly broadens.  the  book  he  had  been  reading  while  pacing  is  subsequently  placed  on  the  tabletop,  brows  furrowed.  〝 if  I  didn't  know  any  better,  I'd  think  you're  trying  to  get  my  attention,  belmont. ”  he  leans  toward  him,  lashes  almost  touching  as  he  narrows  his  gaze,  half-lidded  and  simmering.  their  bond  has  always  been  something  tragic  and  strange,  like  this,  since  the  moment  he  woke  up.  〝 and  the  next  time  you  call  me  madam,  I'll  bat  my  lashes  at  you.  then  you'll  regret  everything,  hm? ”  no.  surely  not.  trevor  belmont  is  not  a  being  of  regrets.  his  heart  is  too  wide  for  regrets.  a  step  is  taken  closer,  so  willowy  digits  might  sweep  up  a  broad  shoulder,  curl  against  the  side  of  his  throat  right  where  his  pulse  thuds  away.  〝 so,  back  to  the  subject  at  hand  ––  did  you  need  something?  or  just  me? ”  he  can  feel  the  way  the  other's  heart  thunders,  can  nearly  hear  it.  distantly,  he  wonders  if  this  world,  in  another  time,  would've  been  kind  enough  to  have  granted  them  a  life  together;  one  where  they  weren't  hunted  and  beaten  and  bloodied,  one  where  they  were  both  mortal  and  life  wasn't  fleeting  ––  a  childhood  spent  best  friends,  their  teen  years  holding  hands,  adulthood  by  each  other's  sides.  alucard  knows  he  would  never  be  worthy  of  such  a  thing,  though.  〝 please  say  just  me  so  I  needn't  let  you  go. ”

[sumsumstrashbin]

𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 ~ 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 𝟕𝟗𝟓

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: (𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝) 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐞?

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞. 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐢 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐦!𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

The library was particularly quiet due to the time of day. It was a Friday night, and most other students were out with friends or already home for study week. Campus, let alone the library was practically empty, excluding you and your boyfriend Peter. The two of you sat nestled in a quiet and cosy corner of the library, noses buried in textbooks and loose papers with notes scribbled on them. 

“Careful. Our papers are getting mixed up.” Peter spoke for the first time in an hour, his tone soft despite the fact that there was no one else around. You looked up at him, before following his gaze to the messy pile of papers on the desk. 

“Trust me, I think we’ll be able to tell which ones are mine and which ones are yours..” You teased, holding up one of your papers alongside his. Your writing, despite the long day of jotting notes, remained neat and colour coded. Peter’s, however, had gradually gotten more and more illegible as the day went on. At this point, it just looked like a page full of scribbles with the occasional streak of white out or something highlighted in yellow. 

Peter looked at the two pages you held up, his eyes widening at the difference. “I didn’t realise how messy I got. But I mean, if I can read it, it works.”

“Can you read it?” You joked, putting the papers down. Peter rolled his eyes in response, though he remained grinning from ear to ear. 

“No need to take shots at me. Maybe you’re cranky from all the reading. How about I quiz you?” He questioned, putting his pen down.

You groaned, throwing your head back. “I hate when you quiz me. I forget everything.”

“Why’s that?” He inquired, though he knew exactly why. How could you think of anything when he was fixated on you, praising you with kind words when you did get the answers right? And when you’d get things wrong, he’d shake his head, tutting in disappointment at your answer. Embarrassment would pool in your stomach, and the tips of your ears would burn, but he’d always reassure you that you’d get it next time.

When you didn’t answer his question, he spoke again. “How about I sweeten up the deal? Every time you get an answer right, I’ll give you a kiss.” 

“Fine. Deal.” You spoke, fighting back the smile that was pulling at your lips.

He grabbed your textbook, turning to the mini quiz page. “Alright. First question. “Who is known as the ‘father of cinema’?”

“Come on, Peter. That’s too easy. Give me something harder.”

“That’s what she said.” He grinned.

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, elbowing his side playfully.

“Hey, do you want a kiss or not? Give me an answer.”

“The Lumière brothers.”

“That’s right.” He leaned over, planting a soft kiss against your lips. Before you could even savour it, he pulled away. “Next. What was the standard frame rate for silent films in the early years of cinema?”

“Sixteen frames per second.” 

“See? The studying has paid off.” He nodded approvingly, giving you another peck.

He continued quizzing you for a while, and it was true that your studying had paid off. You were on fire, with a streak of nine correct in a row. You found that it was easier to remember the answers if you just didn’t make eye contact. Or look at him at all. “Which 1902 film directed by George Méliès is considered one of the first narrative films?” Peter asked.

“Uh…” You paused for a moment, thinking.

“You know this, Y/n. Come on. You can do it.”

After a few seconds, the answer returned to your mind. “A Trip to the Moon!” You exclaimed, relieved that your streak lasted for the entirety of the quiz.

Peter smiled, cupping your cheek with his hand. “My smart girl. See? I told you, you’d get it.”

You leaned in this time, connecting your lips and letting them linger for a moment longer than the times before. Peter smiled into the kiss, before pulling away to look at you.  

“I say we take a well deserved coffee break and then get back to it.”

“Peter, we’ve been studying all day. I think we should just call it a night.” You whined.

“I’m not even halfway through the content. The workload of biophysics is gruelling, sweetheart. But if you want to head home and get some rest, I’ll walk you back.”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll stay with you.” You shook your head. “Besides, I’ll have to quiz you next. But let's get coffee first.”

“Oh, great. We’ll see how that goes.” He chuckled, packing your things for you. “Off to Starbucks we go.”

─────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───────

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞

[writers-potion]

Let's Talk About POV for Dark Fiction.

Deep POV

Deep POV is like real life - we only know the perspective of one person. These POVs have the effect of drawing the reader in so deep that they forget they're only reading words on the page.

You can write a "deep POV" in first, third or even second person, as long as the narrative is concentrated (and limited) to the mind and emotions of a character.

For most dark, horror-like stories, deep POV is the best choice.

However, there are some drawbacks:

You won't be able to describe important events that happen outside of the POV character's sight - you'll have to use phone calls, television news, or telepathy.

You cannot directly show what the MC looks like unless you have their friend comment on it.

When the POV character dies, the story is over.

To convey what other characters feel, you need to rely on dialogue and body language.

Here are some tricks to engage the readers:

Don't state that the character saw/heard/thought/felt something. Just describe what the experience is like.

Show how the weather and the temperature affect the POV character.

Shows how emotion affects the POV character's body.

Show how emotion affects the POV character's body - especially fear in all its forms (anxiety, terror, panic, shock, etc.)

Serial POV

Alternatively, you can use more than on character's POV, one after the other. Short stories would use this less often, but if your story is long and your MC dies in the middle, you'd want to use this format.

Serial POV doesn't give the same intense experience, but the flexibility in the narrative is well worth it.

Omniscient POV

This is where you would drop into a character's head for one paragraph, then jump into another.

To make this work, stay in one character's head for a short time, but avoid making mid-para POV switches. Insert at least one POV neutral sentence before you enter the next character's head.

Other POV Styles to consider!

Cinematic POV: This is like a video camera - it sees everything, but only from the outside, not inside anyone's head.

Fly-On-The-Wall POV: Here, the POV is a person but somehow not involved in the action and has no stake in the outcome.

Detached POV: This is a dry, factual reporting style, such as a newspaper article or official report. Horror stories narrated in this manner can be chilling to read.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

💎For early access to my content,  become a Writing Wizard 

[onyx666]

☽◯☾ let the moon settle you ☽◯☾

pairing : finnick odair x black fem coded!reader

warnings : none (will surely contain violent graphic scenes as well as some mentions of sex trafficking and forced prostitution, and smut in the future, i mean it's the hg Imaoo cmon yall)

aim for the moon. even if you miss, you may hit a star. shoot for the moon and if you miss you will still be among the stars.

"Live fast, die young, be wild. and have fun.... they say..." she expressed with a bitter laugh slipping off her lips still cringing at the mantra.

As the gloomy moonbeam reflected on the side of her face in the moonlit night, she spoke with a grace that caught the peacock's attention, still standing in the shadows. The moonlight painted her face with a soft glow, revealing a tapestry of emotions in every expression. As strands of her hair danced in the gentle breeze, Finnick observed in silence.

The night, wrapped in the luminous embrace of the moon, held the promise of a new narrative written in the language of stardust and whispered confessions.

"I believed in the country Panem used to be." she said, still holding hope for the person she wanted to become.

In this moment, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, she became Moon, a celestial muse—a constellation of emotions and experiences that left an indelible mark on his heart, even him not noticing it.

chapter 1

chapter 2

chapter 3

a/n: not proofread jsjsjsjss wtv feel free to dm me it's only the synopsis but im still open to suggestions and btw i reposted it idk i kinda hated my other blog #autism

[immoralimmortals]

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 34: Little Talks

Chapter 1 ☆ Next chapter ☆ AO3 ☆ Featured song playlist

Summary of chapter: Lesson one on alienation lines up really nicely with lesson two: abstraction. Wait… The fuck is *that* supposed to mean…?

Maybe it means the disciple and priest are about to switch places.

Author's Note: The song for the chapter title and breaks is Little Talks by Of Monsters and Men, and it also appears in the first section of the chapter. The second song mentioned is BlackBoxWarrior - OKULTRA by Will Wood.

Since it really isn't elaborated n the fic itself, here's a post that contains my ramblings about how BlackBoxWarrior is a Hidan song to me.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There's an old voice in my head

That's holding me back

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Only the really ‘normal’ stuff tends to get on the radio...but I like things that get weird, you know? Because life is weird! Some examples are...well, there’s a toy called an arcade game, right? And a man becomes a ghost that lives in it. And then there’s another where—...”

It's a misty, foggy day outside, clouds low to the earth and swallowing the view outside the haunted house's windows. Perfect day to...stay inside and be bored out of your skull. That's apparently what everyone else decided. Hands are holding their owner up by the jaw and cheeks, green-painted fingers tapping the sides of Hidan's face as he sits on the daybed. Three people are in front of him, one that matters and two that really, really don’t. It’s amazing how she’s given them the time of day, as if this shit is of any importance...but...

"And...and then about a woman that's...also like...a ham? And then...ones that are just like, recordings of cats meowing and made into a melody. ...It's better than it sounds, I promise."

She looks so happy, though...so he can’t really stop it. She’s talking, and that’s good enough compared to days before that have felt like an eternity. Though he’s starting to suspect there’s such a thing as her talking too much...

“—And so, like—” she stammers not in shyness but in unwieldy excitement. “—There’s a LOT of stories and songs that are about like...the strange and the hard to imagine! It makes you try to conjure up something in your mind, whether explicitly so or leaving it to open interpretation.” She closes her eyes and points up with a finger so intellectually, and those dumbshit “artists” are sitting next to her in attendance like muses around a god. “Some songs are used to tell narratives...some are made for specific characters! Some are trying to convey places or ideas or— or—”

Deidara moves his hand by the wrist so as to urge her to find her words, keep going, whilst Sasori observes her with a raised brow, wondering if this will bring a point. Even the fish in the background seems to swirl around in anticipation, its tank peeking out of the shadows of the rich rosewood-toned room.

“...Well," the woman attempts, deflating slightly with her hands folded in her lap; but then she perks up, reaching down to a beloved something at her feet. "Here. I’m going to give you a song and you try to tell me whose perspective it’s meant to be from. Okay?”

The blonde nods and the redhead watches. The man with silver hair purses his lips, stuck in the view behind them.

With that permission, a guitar is pulled back onto her lap, and though it's shaky at first, that's how she always is. It's about halfway through that shyness drifts away, and she begins to lift her shoulders up and close her eyes to focus on singing to the air around her.

I don't like walking around this old and empty house

So hold my hand, I'll walk with you my dear

The stairs creak as you sleep

It's keeping me awake

It's the house telling you to close your eyes

And some days I can't even dress myself

It's killing me to see you this way

'Cause though the truth may vary

This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore

It’s not the end of the story, not by a long shot, but that’s far enough to make her point. With a smile, she strums the copper strings one last time before opening her eyes, which glance back and forth for a reaction. “Any guesses?”

Deidara hums. “It’s rather...contradictory," he tries to solve, putting an index finger to his chin with a grinning hand. "A complaint followed by an assurance.” She nods over and over, holding the instrument to her chest as she bites her lower lip, lest her mouth open and give it away—

“It’s misleading,” Sasori says, confident as if he's just stating the obvious. “It’s meant to be sung by two people.” Hidan sees the way the woman practically jumps up in her seat, clasps her fists together to her chest.

“That’s right! So uh. I guess my point is that there’s a lot of ways that you can convey ideas through song, and I think that’s really wonderful to explore. The abstraction both as a mechanism of storytelling...and a theme in itself...” A blush dusts her cheeks, a hand rubbing the back of her head with a dismissive giggle; frankly she's just happy she doesn't sound like a rambling idiot after all. Yellow strands of hair drift closer to the ground as Deidara tilts his head forward with a keen, sharp fascination that makes the reaper watch him like a hawk.

“Okay...so next question then..." the sculptor interludes, either ignorant to the silent threat across the room or just ignoring it, "...Is what that song is about.”

Ah, that's an invitation if the performer ever heard one. It makes her heart flutter with a mix of pride and delicacy, as can only be found when sharing what you love and know so much about with people who really care what you say. Taking in a breath, she goes again, allowing the academics to analyze for themselves, sans the guitar and utilizing just her voice for better clarity:

You're gone, gone, gone away

I watched you disappear

All that's left is a ghost of you

Now we're torn, torn, torn apart

There's nothing we can do

Just let me go, we'll meet again soon

Now wait, wait, wait for me, please hang around

I'll see you when I fall asleep

Don't listen to a word I say

The screams all sound the same

Though the truth may vary

This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore

...And the first damn thing she does is look expectantly at Sasori. He blinks twice, almost like clockwork. “...One of them..." the embalmer explains, "...Is dead.”

She beams. It’s nearly disgusting how that motherfucker has earned her joy after everything he did, everything he tried to throw away. Ever since that damn day, it’s been like Hidan is running after leaves in the wind, trying to catch and collect them just to see his friend look a bit more like a functional human being. And the puppet gets her smile?! You give her a dress and it's like nothing HAPPENED?!

“You’re very good at this!” the woman admires, voice sweet as sugar.

A chuckle from the redhead who has no gratitude. “Rather easy, so long as you can follow the lyrics. You should try slurring them a bit less.” And though zealous Hidan is about to be outraged on her behalf, she doesn’t even squirm. She just takes the advice with a nod and moves on.

“You weren’t kidding about the happy endings thing, huh Takara-chan, un?” To that suggestion, though, she shakes her head.

“If everything is sunshine and rainbows, then you can’t really tell when something is bad. It’s like...not being able to feel pain.” A glance to the Jashinist from the corner of her eye. She saved her attention for him up until this topic, and so he's obligated to follow. Him and her lock stares, his face upturned to look down while hers is lowered to look up. “You need to be able to feel pain. It’s your body talking to you in the only way it can.”

...

...Ah shit. Everyone else is looking at him too. Is this a discussion circle or something...?

A hum roughens the back of his throat a bit as the yu-nin shrugs, having started to hold the silver beads that chain his necklace, stimming by rubbing between thumb and middle finger. So he's the expert on pain, huh? Flattery comes up to him like an obnoxious little kid to their big brother; he knows it means something, but it doesn't really strike him the way it's intended. “...I guess so.” Not much to say, despite how much he can talk, but it's more than enough to keep her smiling. That is, until something devilish rears his head:

“Heyyy, I got an idea!” Deidara prods out of the blue, bumping the performer with an elbow. “What about a song that even the grim reaper will like!”

Sasori folds his arms, a sly smirk on his face with a crooked index finger folded underneath. “That’s a tricky proposal...either has to be about someone stupid or someone who likes dried blood caked onto his skin.”

“HEY!" Before he knows it, an arm is stretched out, pointing in righteous fury. And then...he blinks. This isn't a fight fight...this is just talking. You know. Like nerds do. He gets a glance of her looking at him again, so expectantly, and it's enough to help him simmer down. "I like...music...”

...He does not sound like he likes music.

“You couldn’t know a crescendo if one hit you in the face,” the blonde teases so rudely. And just like that, the rage is back.

“The hell I wouldn’t!”

“Oh, oh...hey!” Ah fuck...he scared her. ...Right? She's at least uncomfortable enough to play peacemaker, raising her hands, palms up. Her gaze is still thankfully starry, though now she's no longer giving her attention to Hidan but the two others. “Listen guys...I meant what I said. There’s songs for everyone and every thing in every way...not just ‘even’ for Hidan...but especially for him.”

Hidan blinks once again. He doesn't really care for being talked about in the third person.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Well, tell her that I miss our little talks

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Okay...so this one is actually going to be tricky.” They're all in the piano room now, Hidan seated backwards on a dining chair propped up near the piano bench upon which she promptly comes down and has a seat, placing a paper and quill on top of the instrument as props. “The uh...way it was written is meant to be as FAST as possible for this artist. Meant to be a challenge to him. So uh... Forgive me if I stumble a bit or— or I have to slow down.” She glances side to side at everyone present, between the priest beside her and the two critics seated so smug against the wall. “Do you guys want me to explain the song before or after I do it?”

“After,” Deidara butts in before anyone else can. “Absolutely need to try to hear it before you say anything, un.” His danna nods in agreement, cozily seated next to Deidara on a love-seat moved into the room so she has an audience proper.

She nods with a firm hum, turns to a bored and confused Hidan with a big grin. He’ll be her fool, he supposes, and so he blows a stray hair out of his face and says nothing to stop her.

A big breath in...a big breath out. And goddamn, she wasn’t kidding about it being fast. There’s an instrumental first, piano notes elegant yet brisk….and then...it sounds like a car crash, like you’re on a gurney being rushed through a hospital. She’s careful to lean a bit less into being musical with her singing and more towards enunciating, being understood as best as something so panic-inducing will allow:

Well he collapsed with Stevens-Johnson Syndrome on the E.R. floor

Panic attacked, anaphylactic and ataxic

The way he spun his butterfly risked all six his phalanges

Roman candles at both ends in his synapses

And the method with which he recycled his humors

Trojan Horse'd his Blood-Brain Barrier and raised the LD-50, yes, yes

And through flight-or-fight revelation shame the Black Box Warrior

He skipped this town and headed straight down history

She is very nearly tripping over not only her own tongue but her fingers. Hidan frowns. There’s a meaning to this bullshit? What the fuck…? And she keeps looking over her shoulder at him, like she’s looking for his approval or for him to get it...whatever “it” is. He can kind of follow the next part:

For what? For what? For what it's worth

If it was going to kill you boy, it would have by now

For what? For what? For what it's worth

There's no more looking back, it's looking up or looking down

Another flurry of notes and a verse later, all of a sudden the piano stops and the lady's turned around. But she isn’t done, no— she holds the paper with a pen and pretends to interview him, talk to him with this detached attitude he's never fucking seen, not even in the bar. It isn't sappy love songs...or something about fairies or other bullshit..it just sounds...sounds...

He can't fucking place it, so his brow curls. The questions she’s asking are...fucking bizarre. He can’t even understand half of it! Is that what this is about? To make him feel stupid? He can’t admit that it’s fucking working, even if it'd make her stop.

Holistic ballistics, you got a BETTER idea?

And all of a sudden she stands up and— for the first time since they’ve met— she YELLS at him! Magenta eyes pop out of their sockets, chin jerking up in alarm. She looks...pissed. She has NEVER been pissed before. And this is for him?! After ALL he's done for her! THIS is the song that represents HIM!

What, you think ideas spread because they're GOOD?

No, they spread because people LIKE THEM!

She gestures widely with her arms, like she’s going absolutely manic. Is this really happening, is this a damn dream? Hidan's gaze darts to the artists that watch the spectacle; they both seem merely...amused, if even that. There is a very, very distinct idea that he’s missing out on something and it doesn’t sit well with him. Not at all. In the next bit, the crazy lady thrusts her arms back and forth between them, as if comparing himself and herself.

So now here we are once again, holding

As it were, a mirror up to your MIRROR!

...I guess it's just something people do!

And that’s it! Wait— that's IT? She turns around again, throwing the pen and paper over her shoulders, and the piano continues. As she has her back turned, Hidan narrows his eyes once more and something happens. She doesn’t notice it, not until after she’s done. It’s a shame, because maybe the last part could put a key in and unlock the purpose of all this to a heartbroken man.

For what? For what? For what it's worth

If they were going to GET you boy, they would have by now

For what? For what? For what it's worth

There's no more looking back, it's looking up or looking down

One final, furious smash of keys and she gets to catch her breath. “Ah...aha...hew!” Sweat is wiped off the forehead, and the performer is living up to her name, docile again like her usual self. “...See what I mean? Some songs are just...a lot, you know? To help you feel the point instead of just hearing—” She opens her eyes, proud until—

Sasori and Deidara sit to the side on the couch, but the space where Hidan was next to her is very, very empty.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Some days I don't know if I am wrong or right

Your mind is playing tricks on you, my dear

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Well...this is a big mess, ain't it?

He's not hard to find, absolutely not, he's just outside, watching the mist. It isn't so thick in humidity that you can't see the forest, but the treetops are eaten up by it. Clouds...fucking clouds...he's starting to feel bitter about them, about how he has to share them with these assholes. It's impossible to not hear her coming; Hidan turns around even before she says his name:

“Hidan...I-I’m sorry." But he turns back away. It makes her stagger, stopping where she stands in the doorway. A fist is clenched over a guilty heart, boots pointing their tips into each other in discomfort. "I should have asked before I made you a part of it...or at least explained what I meant to do.”

And though he faces away and her to his back, the way gazes stare somehow don't touch him and loop around the word to strike her like an arrow. He's sitting on the porch with his wrists hanging over his knees. There’s a frown on his lips and narrow eyes look lost as they stare at the dirt path away from "home". Home... Jashin-sama, what can he do to make her happy? The house wasn't good enough first— Kisame saying to his face it's gross and dangerous— and now he's not even good enough to understand her music. He feels her drawing closer, and a muscle in his face twitches ever so slightly but not to smile. Holding her knees, the performer tilts down to try to get him to see her.

“Hidan...?”

And it makes him wonder if she has any idea...any clue what she's doing, what she's saying and how it makes her look. It’s as good an excuse as any to bring up something; a mounting concern has weighted his spine more than his scythe or her body ever could being carried all the way to hell and back:

���Takara..." the man drawls, and it's instantly known that something is gravely wrong. "Why are you still fucking around so much...?!”

Huh? The surprise is obvious on her face, though it shouldn't be; oh, girlie, don't make him look like an idiot just explaining this shit again...!

“I mean...talking like you have something to teach ‘em.” Wait, shit, wait— stop looking so hurt—! Ironically, his concern for the performer just makes his grimace wider, make him seem more angry as a violet iris locks in from the corner of his eye. “I mean! I mean. You remember my warning? Right?”

…

“That people are taking you seriously," the priest spells it out, "About your bullshit.”

And it hits her. He...he still doesn’t—...oh shit. Oh fucking hell. And it’s all her fault. What does she do? The problem about whether or not she can read was just a symptom of a bigger problem. How does she tell him the truth? Should she? CAN she when she hasn't even had the balls to confess she doesn't know how to READ?!

With nothing else to do, the woman sits down next to him, stealing the look to the ground Hidan had while he now presses his gaze— so stern yet so confused— onto her.

“Where you from, girlie?” he finally asks outright, again since the day they first met; he asked her to prove her worth then and he will again now, even if it goddamn hurts him to. “It isn’t Hoshi, is it? Those hoshi-nin fuckers are out for yer head. Said yer ruining their good name, hanging out with the likes of me. So you’re not runnin’ from there.”

…

She shakes her head. Correctly deduced, pinpoint precision that stings. But he doesn't back down yet. His brow ridges, frown pulls down harder.

“Then where?”

Her lips open before she can stop them, but as she stammers, the stranger isn't even sure if she should try. “I’m...not...from here.”

…He flicks his tongue against his teeth, making a “tsk” noise with a disappointment that could penetrate stone.

“Is that all you got?” In the seconds of silence, she isn’t sure if he’s hurt or not. But...but...oh, how he softens all the same. After all, the only thing he wants is for his friend back, for her to hear him again instead of making herself a prop. Being mute for hours on end or being loud as a falling tree...doesn't matter. Just don't make yourself something to exist around instead of exist yourself. “Listen. I'm not...fucking stupid. You know that, right?" He continues before he can be interrupted. "Just because you use words and ways of sayin' things I'm not used to...doesn't mean I don't know what you mean behind all that. Just don’t lie to me anymore, angel.” Angel. “That’s all I can ask for. Haven't I earned it?" And hasn't he? "So...what's true? Is it all of it?”

...It's undeniable now what Hidan means by "it". A nervous hand wavers with an uncommitted hum, trying to relieve the tension a bit with some levity. “Some...of it is?”

His eyes narrow, spited. “Real fucking useful.”

“Well!" the woman defends, squirming in her seat. "Ask me something specific!”

“Okay…” A snap of his finger and then it points at her, metaphorically saying ‘go, hotshot’. “Are you from space?”

Easy. “No.”

“Are ya magic?”

“...No?” Pretty sure, anywho. "I don't think so. Though I'm wondering if how I am is fundamentally...different than you guys." Chakra and lack thereof, after all...

Lord Jashin in heaven above... Hidan sighs and shrugs helplessly, not even needing to exaggerate it to get a groan so loud and forlorn from his throat. “Then I have no idea what the fuck anyone else is talking about.” It’s a disconcerting response to the woman, so she tries to pick the subject back up and put it in a new direction:

“I am...from...somewhere,” she stumbles in, inching a bit closer where she sits. “...That I haven’t seen anyone else from before. Not since I left.” He blinks, and the frustration on his face is making it damn clear he is sick of being the fool.

“Hell’s that supposed to mean?”

She shrugs, a heavy sigh not relieving in the silence. She can’t tell him...right? That she’s dead? He looks at her, sitting so innocently next to him, up and down...and he puts his hand on hers. He lets her look at it, feel it, before he says a single word. Somewhere...deep in the pits of his black, ever-bloody and bleeding heart...something has rooted. It's been there for a long time, since the ritual circle, of course...but it only started to grow once the Akatsuki's parody of a god suggested that she really may not understand what it's like to be in a world like this. Ever since, it's been affirmed; she has no fucking idea what shinobi are, nor anything they can do. What wisdom the woman has instead...it's shit you can't make up. That little something got bigger and bigger, and it spoke an unbelievable name: Reverence.

“Where did you come from?” he asks again, under his breath to keep a secret. Up and up and up...the muscles that attach her cheeks and the corners of her mouth pull. She’s smiling...but it’s not happy. That push of her cheeks up in turn press the bottom of her eyes and help welling tears escape their cage, fall down her face and become lost in the black cape she wears to fight the cold. Past her shame, it is decided that if anyone has earned the answer, it’s Hidan, her rescuer, the one who trusts the most in her own capabilities, however few. He doesn’t deserve to wonder any more.

“...A place with too much light,” she says again, as she used to on a stage, though now it's said like if the wrong ears hear, the world itself will end. “And you can’t see the stars, even though we've been to them. Communication beyond your imagination...that no one listens to.”

...

...

That's all she can manage before her lungs feels strangled, the weight of his hand so distracting. Hidan reads her silence and fills in what he wants to hear. He sees her again, like he did when she was first in his ritual circle; the white dress doesn’t hurt with how well it makes her glow, so ethereal and soft like feathers from a dove. Jashin is a lord of suffering. Who else would know suffering so well than someone watching down from the heavens? Comprehension, as it did that day she bowed before his scythe, comes not suddenly but gradual, dawning, and warm like the rising sun.

A pious man is so easily blinded by the glory of gods.

“Angel.”

It has a new meaning now. Hidan will listen.

And with that word, so fragile and kind, she realizes she can’t hurt him any more than she already has. This man who let her cut him open and pull his layers apart just to see what humanity looks like inside...something in her says it's just another burden, a disservice, if she put her sorrow any more upon him by really, actually telling him that somehow it gets even worse. Hidan readily accepts physical pain, but emotional is another thing entirely. So her mouth stays shut to eager, hungry ears. His palm still rests on top of her knuckles, not daring to hold or clench or kiss, unsure yet what to do with her precious time here on earth. What would a woman have to want out of being carried and protected and loved by someone like him...than to have something to teach?

It used to be hyperbolic when he said Jashin sent her down just for him, and the angel doesn't realize exactly what Hidan thinks to make the gaps between her gospel work out. Since the woman has decided the priest can’t know that she came into the afterlife, perhaps now he can only assume that she came from it just for him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

'Cause though the truth may vary

This ship will carry our bodies safe to shore

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───