#Smokey Mirror
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doomedandstoned · 1 year ago
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THE DOOMED & STONED SHOW ~Season 9, Episode 7~
This episode, we wrap up our look at the Spring Doom Charts rankings (doomcharts.com), by taking a look at our favorite pics from the May 2023 edition, Top 40 rankings. Three-plus hours of talk 'n' rock with Billy Goate (Editor, Doomed & Stoned), John Gist (Vegas Rock Revolution/The Gist List), and Bucky Brown (The Ripple Effect).
Become a monthly patron and get access to all nine seasons of the show, plus behind-the-scenes features and more! Visit patreon.com/doomedandstoned.
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PLAYLIST:
INTRO (00:00) 1. Cooling Tower (no. 29) - "Kingdom Come" (Sir Lord Baltimore cover) (00:31)
HOST SEGMENT I (07:36) 2. High Desert Queen (no. 12) - "Black Moon" (29:28) 3. Smokey Mirror (no. 17) - "Sacrificial Altar" (35:16) 4. High Leaf (no. 16) - "Dead Eye" (42:45)
HOST SEGMENT II (46:28) 5. Oceanlord (no. 11) - "2340" (1:04:23) 6. Thousand Vision Mist (no. 14) - "Sands of Time" (1:10:28) 7. Trevor's Head (no. 20) - "Call of the Deep" (1:14:28)
HOST SEGMENT III (1:17:48) 8. They Watch Us From The Moon (no. 10) - "MOAB" (1:34:51) 9. Blood Ceremony (no. 9) - "The Hellfire Club" (1:41:16) 10. The Machine (no. 8) - "Wave Cannon" (1:46:04)
HOST SEGMENT IV (1:53:15) 11. Duskwood (no. 7) - "She Calls" (2:03:02) 12. Vermilion Whiskey (no. 6) - "The Get Down" (2:06:21) 13. Loose Sutures (no. 5) - "Highway Shooter" (2:12:40)
HOST SEGMENT V (2:16:38) 14. Moonstone (no. 4) - "Bloom" (2:46:34) 15. Alconaut (no. 3) - "Slugs" (2:54:21) 16. Formula 400 (no. 2) - "Born To Loose" (3:00:17) 17. Gozu - (no. 1) "Tom Cruise Control" (3:05:12)
OUTRO (3:09:29) 18. Hibernaut (no. 15) - "Stygian Nectar" (3:10:21)
CREDITS:
Theme Song: Dylan Tucker
Thumbnail Art: Moonstone
Incidental Music: 'Doomed & Stoned: The Instrumentalists (Vol. II)'
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dailyalbumrecs · 11 months ago
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Smokey Mirror - Smokey Mirror
This it the first full length album of Texas based Smokey Mirror. Their Bandcamp describes them as "Spicy 4-piece psychedelic-blues Boogie from Texas." and I think the way that I would describe this album is a psychedelic rock album with some blues influences and vocals I normally wouldn't associate with psychedelic rock. It is a good album and I am looking forward to future releases of theirs.
Bandcamp Link: https://smokeymirrortx.bandcamp.com/album/smokey-mirror-3
Apple Music Link: https://music.apple.com/us/album/smokey-mirror/1675377087
Spotify Link: https://open.spotify.com/album/718cdelNkiW8GBXCOqQEjX?si=mUy_GHhpSMuYifkwEqp9xg
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xfairydrawing · 1 year ago
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Home Office Built-In in Sydney
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An illustration of a mid-sized, minimalist built-in desk study room with a beige floor and ceramic tile walls.
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smokescreenimusprime · 1 year ago
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still reading through your aus and i am in pain wtf--- that depticon spy au??? THE REVEAL IS SO. OW. BECAUSE SMOKESCREEN WOULDNT EVEN HAVE A CHANCE TO EXPLAIN HIMSELF--- like I. HEAD IN HANDS.
NYEHEHEHEHEH >:33333
that's part of the fun tbh <3
and of course the Autobots are angry. Livid if we're being honest. They feel stupid for not seeing it earlier, after all Smokescreen arrived in a Decepticon pod, he'd supposedly managed to escape a prision ship himself and survive the fall of Iacon, he'd been captured again by the Cons and escaped functionally unharmed, he was always weirdly anxious and flighty around them, and they really just feel like they're been played for fools at what seems to be obvious tells in hindsight
admittedly the humans are a bit more hesitant to believe this sudden change, especially whichever human was the one who was traded for Smokescreen. After all, Smokescreen honestly bonded more with the humans than with his "fellow" Autobots. With the Autobots there was always this lingering anxiety and fear that they would uncover his secret, a feeling he hadn't felt since his early days of undercover work
but with the humans...... there wasn't as much fear. The kids were..... well, kids. They didn't know what signs to look out for in spies, they didn't know what he should and shouldn't know about Cybertron, they trusted him completely, so this apparent betreyal....... it hurts them a lot but they're also somewhat hesiatnt to believe it
but yeah, they don't exactly have too much time to deal with all these emotions regarding Smokescreen's betreyal before all of them get a single message from the guy
Run
then they end up finding out that the Decepticon's new base is Literally Right Outside Their Door and they evacuate
(also, since all five humans were kidnapped, this also means that Fowler and June get to join the Autobots on then run :) June is either going to go with Raf (since he's the youngest) or with Ratchet, but I'm admittedly not super sure about Fowler, either Ratchet or he manages to stay behind with Optimus somehow)
now....... this of course raises the question of what happens to Optimus. After all, Smokescreen isn't there to save him, right?
Wellllllllll
what if he was :)
what if after his "return" to the Decepticons, Megatron sorta...... lets him float around. Sure he's angry about his defection, but right now he's more than aware of how much more pain giving Smokescreen some amount of freedom would give him than simply locking him up. If he's in a cell, he's being trapped, but if he's "free"....... well, then that makes it all the more easier for the guilt to eat him alive :)))
(besides there..... really isn't a whole lot a spy with a blown cover can do right now)
unfortunatly, while the guilt part of the plan does work out, it also accidentally results in Optimus's survival and Smokey stealing the Phase Shifter and Forge and giving it to the Autobots
now...... Optimus admittedly doesn't have the best memory of what happened after the base came down ontop of him. The details aren't super great on account of the whole dying thing
However, there are a handful of things he is sure of with the utmost certainty
The Matrix of Leadership wanted to pick Smokescreen had he died
Smokescreen had a chance to take the Matrix of Leadership
Smokescreen didn't
Smokescreen stole the Forge and Phase Shifter from the Decepticons
Smokescreen saved his life
and suddenly Optimus is realizing the whole puzzle surround their newest recruit has become that much more complicated
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pinkpinkmermayyy · 9 months ago
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lowkey the way he said this gives me smokey or doc vibes (might be thinking up an au here lol)
@microwavedfishsticks @punkeropercyjackson @champmorado @x0stormie0x @penguinotaku @gay-lightning-mcqueen
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tragically-torie · 2 years ago
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Outfit and makeup today
First pic is me getting ready 🧖🏼‍♀️
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uglydragons · 2 years ago
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This is Becquerel who I was going to put up for auction but his eyeshadow was on point and he stole my heart. Best feature: his peets
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joeexclamation · 1 year ago
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The Sopranos, Season 4, Episode 11 ‘Calling All Cars’
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loreleiroze · 1 year ago
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Yeo what up :DD :)))))
🖤☠️🕸️💕🖤🕸️💕🖤☠️🕸️💕🖤☠️🕸️💕👻💕👻💕👻💕👻💕👻👻👻💕💕💕👻🖤🖤🖤💋💋🖤🖤🖤💋💋🖤🖤🖤💋💋🕸️🕸️🕸️👽🕸️🕸️🕸️👽🕸️🕸️🕸️👽🕸️🕸️🕸️💕🕸️☠️💕🕸️☠️💕🕸️☠️💕🕸️☠️💕🕸️☠️
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daisies-on-a-cup · 2 years ago
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tried to do eyemake up... cringe fail abomination punch in the eye look... i would get so many numbers in the gay club... but i am not there...
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waitingforafriendblog · 9 months ago
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bruciemilf · 11 days ago
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There’s something off about Bruce.
Dick’s eye is trained for detail; He has to calculate every leap, every step, every breath, every count. He’s a showman. Everything is routine, and routine is everything.
Injury isn’t unusual, especially for his father .He out stubborns Tim in resisting medical examinations, after all.
For Bruce, secrets are protection. He lied about every injury he had when Dick was Robin, suffering in silent agony as the pain grew and grew, a tradition he carries on from Jason to Damian.
If Bruce screams, it’s bad.
“God fucking dammit, how the fuck does he do this? Who the fuck breaks their femur AND just carries on? Jesus FUCKING Christ.”
Bruce curses under his breath, profanity hushed. Dick’s veins freeze, blood turning to stone. He guesses his shock is obvious because Jason mirrors it to perfection.
One; Bruce doesn’t curse.
Two; He definitely doesn’t curse in a jersey accent.
The unease is pungent. Alfred practically tastes it, vitriolic as anything. His chest is taut, pulse slow, “Sir,” it’s cautious, “Shall I prepare the supplies?”
‘Bruce’ waves his hand, voice gruffer, lower, smokey, “Yeah, thanks, babe,”
Alfred blinks. And whoever pretends to be Bruce, blinks back, almost like a deer being cornered by an English hound, smile a bit boyish and unsure.
“…Thomas?”
“… Okay, you’re gonna laugh—“
Dick is reeling, because apparently:
His dead grandparents have been possessing his father throughout the years and they, wards to the best detective in the world, never caught on.
“Look, I get you’re pissed, BUT,” It’s so unbelievably weird watching Bruce be so expressive;
His hands move energetically, like they have their own voices, and his rain soft voice catches on fire when his father talks through him,
“This IS 50% MY body, technically.“
“Thomas, dear, that is not how that works. Come now, you’re scaring our grandchildren.”
And Jason’s voice is uncharacteristically soft when he speaks, more posh, more elegant . That is not his brother.
Alfred passes out, to no one’s surprise.
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smokescreenimusprime · 2 years ago
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There was this one AU I made, where Smokescreen used to be a Decepticon spy (this was based on a really old crack theory when he was first revealed in the show) but when he was in the Archives, he started learning more about Cybertron as a whole and has a realization that "hey, maybe the Autobots have a Point™ and I don't know which side of this war I really want to be on" but he knows he already dug his grave and couldn't get out of it. That was until he crashed landed on Earth and no one knew who he was. He could actually be on the side he truly believed in, and help win the war. Now, he just has to hope no one on the Decepticon side will recognize him. (Plot twist: someone does)
OOOOOOOO YESSSSSSS
I hope you don’t mind if I add onto this because my brain grabbed it in a choke hold and went ZOOM
So we have Smokescreen doing Spy Things for the Cons. What if instead of having gone through the whole Elita Guard training which would’ve been incredibly risky, they just set him up to intercept the actual Guardsmen who’d been assigned to Trion so he can replace them. For most, guarding essentially a glorified librarian would be boring at best, but to a spy? Alpha Trion is the head of THE Iacon Archives, a complete foundation of useful, difficult to access information
And what if this would be Smokescreen’s first proper undercover mission. He’d done intelligence before, and he was really good at it, but this would be the first time he’d be going behind enemy lines for a long stretch of time. He thinks he’s got this completely in the bag
He does not have this completely in the bag
Unfortunately for Smokescreen, Alpha Trion keeps all KINDS of records in the Archives. He’s got stuff in there from everybody, Autobot, Decepticon and Neutral, from news clippings to videos to all manner of propaganda. He’s even got a whole secret section dedicated to banned media.
And when Smokescreen’s doing his spy investigations….. he ends up finding a couple things he either didn’t know or didn’t really think about, and the datapads he finds offer a large amount of view points. Many of them are biased, but there’s enough different view points that he’s able to piece together a picture.
And it’s….. not great, if he’s being honest. Sure the Autobots aren’t saints, but they’re not the monsters Megatron and the Decepticons had painted them to be. Not the monsters Smokescreen had them as. And to make things even worse, the Decepticons aren’t nearly as good as he’s been made to believe. He learns of Shockwave and his experiments, the Decepticon Justice Division, Praxus, so many things he’d heard in passing but never got all the context for and even more things he’d never even heard of
Smokescreen didn’t like not knowing things. He was an intelligence agent, knowing things was his job….. or at least, he thought it was.
So he’s faced with a crisis. He knows he can’t go back to the Decepticons knowing what he knows now, but at the same time the Decepticons won’t take his defection well and there’s no guarantee that the Autobots will take him in. Right now Alpha Trion is his best and really only option for safety and honestly….. he really does trust the guy. His friendship made with him wasn’t all faked, and he genuinely likes him.
So he decides he’s going to tell Alpha Trion the truth and go from there. He can figure out the specifics of his maybe(?) defection after that.
……only he doesn’t get the chance because then the Fall of Iacon happens and Smokescreen gets knocked out
He does wake up on the ship like in canon, only this time he isn’t a prisoner because they knew who he was. Instead he wakes up in the med bay and is told they found him unconscious in the Archives. They say he’s to wait for his next assignment and then he’ll be off
Only now the full force of what he’s doing comes crashing down and he realizes just how badly he’s fucked up. Alpha Trion is now dead and it’s all thanks to what he’s done. Because he was too afraid and too unwilling and too slow to accept everything, now he’s lost his best friend and mentor who showed him more kindness than he felt he deserved
And what if in that moment Smokescreen decides once and for all that he’s going to defect and nothings going to stop him. And if he gets caught, at least he’s going to go out with a bang. So he uploads every virus he can onto that ship and causes as much chaos and havoc as possible before jettisoning himself off via an escape pod
……only then it turns out one of his viruses had messed with the pods as well at set the one he got into into a long distance pod
And as much as it sucks, he decides to use the new anonymity to its fullest. He doesn’t trust them completely, since even with all he’s learned it’s still a little difficult to fully trust them so he doesn’t come out with the full truth, most importantly his now ex-Decepticon spy status
as for the reveal, what if it happens during Inside Job. Megatron’s poking around in his head and finds some things Smokescreen had wanted ti keep secret, and now he has some blackmail that he could use to fracture the Autobots a bit…… like say during the Children-Omega Key Exchange when they fight for the Onega Lock
but yeah those are what I could come up with :D
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helios-co · 1 year ago
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I cannot help but feel that everything I've ever read has been more real than the hands held up in front of my face
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mattsmunch · 2 months ago
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── ⋆。𖦹 ! friends? - m.s
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MEAN!matt stunriolo x fem!reader
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✎: “ fuck, that’s it ma, take what’s yours,"
ᝰ.ᐟ WC: 6.8k
���︎: matt is an asshole in this i apologize, MEANdom!matt x CRYBABYsub!reader, SMUT, unprotected p in v (wrap it up pls), oral (m! receiving), slightly public?? (if you squint), FWB!, and more..
⟢ REQUESTED?: no! request r open tho :)
⟢ AUTHORS NOTE: THIS IS AN ORIGINAL STORYLINE. i DONT allow any copying, "inspiration" or plagiarism. NOT proof read, sorry for any typos :,) + potential part two to this, lmk if you’d like that :3
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ᝰ.ᐟ
the hot tears streamed down your face like a river as you frantically pushed your way through the crowded hallway, the press of warm bodies making the path forward arduous. the thundering bass of the blaring music was so loud it felt like your head was going to explode.
with a huff, you scurried past the long line of people waiting for the bathroom and began desperately banging on the door, your fists striking the chipped wood hard.
the irritated voice of the stranger behind the door called out from within, “hey, ease up on the door, man.”
you force the door open, causing the stranger to stumble back with a disgruntled scoff, shoving past you with a huff. you disregard the shouted protests of the rowdy, intoxicated frat kids as you quickly slam the door shut and lock it tight.
gripping the grimy counter top, you ignore the sticky residue that stains your hands as you break down into tears, the sobs muffled by the roaring music that blares through the walls of the house. the red lighting accentuates the glossy sheen of your wet eyes.
you gaze into the mirror, taking in the sight of yourself with your mascara streaming down your cheeks, ruining the painstakingly applied smokey eye you had spent practically hours perfecting. it was a look Matt had complimented, and now it was ruined. the red smudge of your lipstick, thanks to the half-hearted kiss Matt planted on your mouth before pulling you into the frat house, only adds to the mess. you shake your head in annoyance, letting out a contemptuous scoff.
“you’re a fucking idiot,” you mutter under your breath, realizing just how foolish you had been. the sweet words Matt had whispered to you after his tongue had explored parts of your body no one else had, just hours ago, now sounded like honeyed lies.
your pity party is suddenly interrupted as several loud bangs echo against the flimsy bathroom door, causing you to jump in surprise. the last forceful blow finally causes the door to crack open, revealing the familiar eyes, a shade so dark that you struggle to discern their usual color. the owner of those eyes stares down at you with a furious glare that instantly makes you shrink.
his jaw is set in a tight scowl as he storms inside the small bathroom, yelling out profanities for the people in the hallway to "get lost." the door shuts behind him with a firm slam, creating a resounding echo.
you watch his every move like a hawk, your chest heaving rapidly as he advances towards you. your legs instinctively propel you backwards until your back is firmly pressed against the cold surface of the bathroom counter.
“what’s with the dramatics?” he spits out, placing both of his hands on either side of you and gripping the counter with such force that his knuckles are turning white, even in the dim red lighting.
you choke out a bewildered response, sniffling as you attempt to blink away the tears.
"w-what? i-"
he cuts you off, throwing a hand up towards your face with a frustrated huff. "why the hell are you crying, y/n?"
as you ignore him, your teeth dig into your lip as your gaze drifts to the ground, the image of him holding the girl’s hips against his own imprinted in your mind. it’s the same way he was holding you that very morning, and the memory only makes the tears well up in your eyes. you suck in a deep, shuddering breath, wrapping your arms around yourself in a desperate attempt to find some comfort.
Matt groans, his fingers slowly gripping your jaw and forcefully tilting your head up to look at him. his voice drips with fake concern as he asks, "why are you crying, angel?"
his thumb gently brushes against your cheek, catching a stray tear and wiping it away. your bottom lip trembles as you look at his face, his features deliberately softened to match his sickly sweet tone. for a moment, you're almost fooled by it. almost.
you grab Matt's wrist and forcefully pull it away from your face as you turn back towards the mirror, blinking away your tears and bristling with anger.
he sighs, placing his hand gently on your hip and leaning his head into your shoulder, his lips brushing against the skin behind your ear. "talk to me," he coaxes in a soft voice, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your hip.
"i have nothing to say to you," you mutter petulantly, attempting to shrug him off your neck but only causing his grip on your hip to tighten forcefully.
Matt's patience snaps as he fumes, "i asked you a damn question. answer me."
you lick your lips, tasting the salty tears that ran over them only moments ago. sighing as your eyes fill with tears, again.
"you... you kissed her," you stammer out, your voice quivering as you stare back at him through the mirror's reflection. his eyes dart around your face for a minute before he slowly forces you to turn around, his hand gently cupping your face once again.
"why did you kiss her, Matt?" you murmur, your voice dripping with insecurity. his eyes slowly roam over your face, a small sinister smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he listens to your words. each syllable that passes through your lips digs your heart deeper into your chest.
Matt licked his lips softly as a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "it didn't mean anything, angel, you know that," he cooed in a soft tone, his tongue clicking against his teeth as you shook your head and swallowed your tears.
"doesn’t matter, Matt. you kissed her. in front of me!" you exclaimed, practically whining as your tears continued to roll down your face, landing on the hand he was using to cup your cheeks.
"c'mere, ma," he whispered gently, pulling your face towards his as he pressed his lips against yours.
the kiss starts as a gentle, reassuring gesture, but quickly escalates into a desperate, frenzied exchange of teeth and tongue. your fingers weave through his brown curls, tugging at them as he hoists you up by your hips and places you on the dusty counter. in the heat of the moment, you forget about the dirty surface and pull him in closer, determined to prove a point through this kiss. you need to show him that you're the only one he needs, just as he's the only one you need.
your tears and the taste of alcohol create an intoxicating mix as you desperately cling to each other, Matt pulling away with a deep, guttural groan.
your breath hitches as you look into his eyes, the weight of his question sinking in. despite his actions just moments ago, his gaze is now filled with a sense of ownership that both scares and intrigues you.
you slowly nod your head, your voice coming out in a whisper as you reply, "always been yours, Matt." my lip stick is smudge around his mouth, the dark color of it sticking out in the lighting.
his smile widens at your response, his grip on your chin tightening ever so slightly as he leans in to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck.
"damn right you are," he mutters against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of soft kisses along the sensitive skin.
his kisses send shivers down your spine, your breath hitching as his lips find their way to your earlobe. he gently nips at the skin there, leaving a faint mark as he whispers into your ear, "you belong to me y/n. only me."
your heart skips a beat at his possessive tone, his words stirring something deep within you. you find yourself nodding again, whispering back, "only yours, Matt."
he hums in approval, his hands sliding down to grip your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulls you closer.
he pulls you off the counter, placing a firm hand on your shoulder and slowly pushing you down to the tiled floor. his words are laced with a possessive edge as he asks, "gonna show me, hm? show me whose you are?"
your bare knee makes contact with the rough bathmat on the floor, the hard spots creating a slight discomfort. but your thoughts are quickly discarded as you hear the sound of Matt unzipping his jeans, your gaze darting up to meet his. your hands reflexively settle on his thighs, your eyes never leaving his as you anticipate what's to come.
Matt's intense blue eyes bore into yours as he slowly lowers his zipper, revealing the tantalizing V-shape leading down to his groin. his large hands grasp your slender shoulders, fingers digging in possessively.
“there she is…my beautiful girl" he rasps, voice thick with lust. “always look so pretty on your knees for me."
he fists a hand in your hair, guiding your face closer to his cock until you can feel the heat radiating off his skin. the musky scent of his own arousal fills your nostrils, making your head spin.
Matt tilts your chin up with a finger, forcing you to meet his heated gaze. a smirk plays at the corner of his sensual lips as he takes in your flushed cheeks and parted mouth.
"i've been thinking about these sweet lips wrapped around my dick all day," he growls lowly. "been imagining fucking that tight little throat until you're choking on my cum."
his grip on your hair tightens, holding you firmly in place as he rubs the leaking tip of his cock over your closed lips. pre-cum smears across your soft skin, marking you as his.
"do you want it, baby? want me to stuff that pretty little mouth full of my cock?" Matt taunts, grinding himself against your face. "c’mon, show me how much better than her you are."
you swallow hard, feeling yourself flush even hotter at Matt's dirty words. you part your lips slightly, letting your warm breath ghost over his swollen tip.
“please Matt...need it so bad- wanna taste you, make you feel good.” you look up at him through your lashes, e/c eyes dark with desire.
the ache between your legs and the need to prove his statement correct has you feeling very bold, sticking out your tongue and licking a slow stripe up the underside of Matt's shaft, savoring the salty tang of his pre-cum. your tongue circles the tip, lapping up every drop before opening wide and taking him into the wet heat of your mouth.
Matt groans, hips jerking forward as your warm mouth envelops him. he watches, transfixed, as your plump lips stretch around his girth, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock.
"that's it- take it all like a good girl," he encourages, fingers tightening in your hair. "fuck, your mouth always feels s’good..."
he starts thrusting shallowly, not pushing too deep yet, letting you adjust to the size of him. each gentle pump of his hips rocks your head back slightly, sending vibrations through his length and against your tongue.
“mmmph...” you moan around his cock as he continues to gently thrust, the vibrations causing him to twitch in your mouth. your free hand slides between your legs, rubbing small circles over your clit through the damp fabric of your panties as you focus on pleasuring Matt.
"you love sucking my cock, don't you? can't get enough of tasting me," Matt teases, eyes flashing with dominance. "bet you'd let me do anything to you right now, wouldn't you, baby?"
you pull back slightly, looking up at him with heavy-lidded eyes and nodding eagerly. then, with a sultry smile, you take him deeper, swallowing around his thickness as you begin bobbing your head in earnest.
your nails dig into his thighs as you pick up speed, saliva dripping down your chin to mix with the precum coating your lips. the hand between your legs quickens its pace, rubbing you harder as you suck Matt off with wild abandon, determined to prove you're better than that other girl.
Matt's breath hitches as you swallow around him, the sensation of your throat muscles gripping his cock sending shivers down his spine. he leans back against the wall, one hand braced beside his head while the other tangles in your hair, urging you to take even more of him.
"that's it, fuck yeah, suck my cock just like that," he praises, voice strained with pleasure. "gonna make you take every drop of my cum, baby."
his hips start moving faster, pumping in and out of your mouth with increasing intensity. the wet sounds of your oral efforts fill the room, mingling with Matt's ragged breathing and the occasional grunt of satisfaction.
just when you think he might blow, Matt suddenly pulls out, his cock slick with saliva.
before you can protest the loss, Matt lifts you underneath your shoulders and spins you around, bending you over the edge of the sink. he swiftly bunches up the bottom of your dress he kicks your legs apart, exposing your soaked panties to the cool air.
"look at these, all wet for me already," he chuckles darkly, ripping the delicate fabric aside. "gonna fill this pussy up real good, watch." his fingers tangle in your hair and he forces your head up to look at you from behind in the mirror.
without warning, he slams into you, burying his thick cock to the hilt in one powerful thrust. you drop your head, crying out at the sudden intrusion, back arching as your body adjusts to accommodate his size.
Matt sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with animalistic ferocity. the force of his thrusts jolts you forward with each stroke, the sink creaking under the impact. your hips dig into the edge of the counter with each thrust, bruises already forming from the impact.
the pain of being stretched so abruptly gives way to intense pleasure as Matt continues to drill into you, hitting that perfect spot inside with every rough snap of his hips. your cries of discomfort morph into high-pitched whimpers of ecstasy, echoing off the tiled walls. you were entirely grateful for all the noise currently happening in the frat house.
your hands grip on the counter, knuckles white as you try to steady yourself against the relentless pounding. Matt's balls slap against your clit with each deep plunge, the lewd sound mixing with the squelch of your juices and his grunts of effort.
"fucking hell, you're so tight," Matt growls, sweat beading on his brow as he loses himself in the primal rhythm of rutting. "take it ma, take my cock like you were made for it."
Matt grips your hips tightly, pulling you back onto his cock with a harsh grunt. he yanks your head back up so you’re looking in the mirror, your reflection showing your glazed eyes, slack mouth, and the obscene sight of the small bulge in your tummy from his thick shaft plunging into your pussy.
"watch yourself getting fucked, baby," he commands, voice low and husky. "see how good i fill you up?"
with each punishing thrust, he ensures you remain locked in place, forced to witness the messy creating between your spread thighs. the mirrored glass captures every detail - the flush spreading across your chest, the way your breasts bounce in your dress with the force of his strokes, the desperate moans escaping your lips. your face is covered in a mixture of sweat, tears, mascara and saliva.
Matt reaches around and yanks the front of your dress down, your breast immediately spilling out giving him access to pinch and roll your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core. "that's it, look at how my cock stretches you open,"
he punctuates his words with a particularly hard slam, making you gasp and your eyes widen in the mirror. his hand leaves your breast to trail down your stomach, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he spreads you wider, giving himself an unobstructed view of where they're joined.
"fuckin’ love seeing my cock disappear into your tight little cunt," Matt rasps, thumb circling your clit in time with his thrusts. "you were made for this, weren't you? for taking my cock and loving every second of it."
the combination of his dirty talk, the sting of his touch, and the relentless pounding sends you hurtling towards climax. Your inner walls clench around him, trying to milk his cock for all it's worth as you teeter on the brink, desperate for release.
your breath comes in short, sharp gasps, each one punctuated by the lewd slap of skin on skin as Matt continues to pound into you. sweat drips down your temples, stinging your eyes, but you barely notice, lost in the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body.
in the mirror, your reflection shows a face contorted in pleasure, cheeks flushed a deep crimson, lips parted in silent cries. Your tits bounce wildly with each brutal thrust, the rosy peaks straining upwards as if begging for attention.
when Matt's fingers find your clit again, you throw your head back with a keening wail, the pressure building to a fever pitch within you. your nails scrape painfully against the countertop as you struggle to ground yourself, the world narrowing to the searing heat of his cock and the electrifying friction of his touch.
"M-Matt- im...im gonna..." you babble away, your orgasm inching its way closer and closer.
"yeah?" he growls, his thrusts growing erratic as he chases his own release. “gonna make you cum all over my cock baby”
Matt's words send a shiver down your spine, the dark promise filling you with a sense of possession, of belonging only to him. he reaches one of his hands to grasp your jaw, forcing your eyes to stare into his through the mirror, his thumb traces your lower lip, the calloused pad sending tingles through your sensitive skin.
he leans in closer, hot breath fanning over your ear as he nips at the lobe. "do it, angel. let go for me. show me who owns this pretty little cunt."
Matt's filthy encouragement pushes you over the edge, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave. your pussy clenches viciously around his throbbing cock, milking him for every last drop as you scream his name.
through the haze of your climax, you dimly register Matt's guttural groan, feeling his own release barreling towards him. he buries himself to the hilt one final time before stilling, pulsing jets of hot cum painting your insides.
"fuck, that’s it ma, take what’s yours," he growls, grinding his pelvis against yours as if trying to push even deeper.
Matt continues to rock into you shallowly, drawing out both your orgasms until you're left boneless and quivering in his arms. only then does he pull out, his cock slipping free with a rush of fluids leaking from your abused hole. Matt steps back, breaking the intimate connection between you as he grabs a towel to clean himself up. he doesn't offer you one, the gesture lacking any hint of consideration. as he wipes his hands, he glances at you, mumbling a cold "here" as he tosses you the towel so you can clean yourself off.
you both stand in silent discomfort as you quickly wipe yourself off, tossing the dirty towels in a nearby basket. the air is thick with tension as you can feel Matt's gaze on you while you finish up.
when you turn back to face him, he's already looking at you, his eyes empty and devoid of any tenderness or affection. he checks his phone, seemingly unbothered by the intense moment that just passed.
"think you could catch a ride with someone?" Matt mutters, eyes glued to the screen of his phone. "i gotta head out."
his tone is cold and unfeeling, as if the intimate encounter you just had meant nothing to him. he turns to leave the bathroom without even waiting for your response. you're left feeling used and discarded, his indifference cutting deep into your heart.
you stand there, frozen in place. the abrupt change in his demeanor feels like a sharp knife to the gut. the love and tenderness he showed mere moments ago seem like distant memories now, replaced by his cold and aloof demeanor.
his hasty exit leaves you feeling discarded and unimportant, as if your presence no longer held any significance in his world. the realization hits you like a ton of bricks, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.
you feel a lump forming in your throat as you force yourself to stay composed. you clench your fists, nails digging into your palms as you resist the urge to call out to him. but deep down, you know it would be pointless. he’s made it clear that your presence is no longer needed.
the thought of him leaving you behind, like a discarded piece of trash, adds fuel to the flames of anger and hurt that are rapidly consuming you. but you swallow them down, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing your vulnerability.
you force yourself to take a deep breath, pushing down the emotions that threaten to overcome you. you straighten your appearance, fixing your hair and readjusting your clothes before exiting the bathroom and making your way back to the party.
as you scan the room, your gaze falls upon Nate, Matt's best friend, chatting with a small group nearby. you approach him, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention.
"Nate," you begin, your voice shaky but firm. "i need a favor."
Nate turns to face you, eyebrows furrowed in concern as he takes in your disheveled appearance and solemn expression. he immediately knows something is off.
"what’s wrong y/n/n?" Nate asks, a hint of worry in his voice.
you hesitate for a moment before replying, "Matt...he...he left. i just need a ride home."
there’s a brief pause as Nate registers your words, his expression hardening at the mention of his best friend's name.
"Matt left you here alone?" Nate questions, clearly disapproving, but you nod in confirmation.
he lets out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair as he looks back at you. "fine. i’ll take you home. but i’m kicking Matt's ass later."
you manage a weak smile at his words, appreciating his immediate protectiveness towards you.
"thanks, Nate," you murmur, your voice laced with gratitude.
Nate nods in acknowledgement, his expression softening as he puts a comforting hand on your shoulder.
"let’s get you home, alright?" he responds softly, guiding you out of the crowded space and towards the exit.
you follow Nate silently as he leads you towards the exit. the cool night air hits your face and you take a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside you.
as you both settle into Nate's car, he glances over at you, a mix of concern and anger etched on his face.
you can feel Nate's gaze on you, waiting for a response, but you remain silent, unable to find the words to describe the emotional whirlwind you just experienced.
Nate, being the considerate person he was, respected your silence and didn't push any further. he turns his gaze back to the road, steering the car in the direction of your house. the drive is quiet, filled only by the sound of the engine and the occasional hum of the radio.
you stare out the window at the passing scenery, your thoughts still consumed by the mixed feelings you have for Matt. the quiet atmosphere does nothing to alleviate the storm inside you, and all you want is to get home and be alone.
after what feels like an eternity, Nate pulls up to the curb in front of your place. he puts the car in park and turns to look at you, his expression soft but concerned.
"we’re here," he mutters, his voice breaking the silence.
you unclick your seatbelt and open the car door, offering Nate a small nod in thanks before stepping out. the cool night air brushes against your skin, providing a temporary respite from the emotional turmoil consuming you.
Nate leans out of the window slightly as you begin to walk towards your front door.
"y/n," he calls out, his voice serious. "if you ever need anything, you can call me, alright? even if it's to kick Matt's ass, i’ll be there."
you glance back at him, a small smile tugging at your lips despite the emotional turmoil inside you.
"thanks, Nate," you murmur, appreciating his offer of support. "and yeah, i’ll keep that in mind."
Nate smiles at your response, satisfied that you'll at least have someone to turn to if you need it.
with a final nod, you turn and make your way up the path to your front door. as you insert the key and push the door open, you can feel Nate's gaze lingering on you, watching until you safely enter your house before driving off.
you go through your nightly routine, thoughts of your encounter with Matt tormenting you. his sudden shift from passionate to uncaring leaves you feeling hurt and confused.
throughout the night, you break down twice, tears flowing as you struggle to make sense of his behavior. by the time you finally fall asleep, you're emotionally drained and his name still echoes in your mind.
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AUTHORS NOTE: i am oh so very sorry for making my husband be such an asshole but i SWEAR if y’all want a part two i’ll make up for it i promise.
TAG LIST: @freshloveee @chrissturnioloslittleslut @joces-wrld
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areislol · 3 months ago
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being transported into their world 2
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►— pairings. honkai star rail men x gn! creator! reader
►— warnings. nothing really, proofread 🙅🏻‍♀️, caelus is the trailblazer, romantic but you can see it was platonic if you want to! boothill lore, slight angst sahau (self aware honkai au)
►— synopsis. their beloved creator, the one who created many worlds, including theirs, had yet to return after thousands of years. but lately, they've been experiencing strange things, feeling like a heavenly, divine figure loomed over them. could it possibly be their one and only creator?
►— a/n. so many ideas but so little time to write it all down!!
►— wordcount. 6.2k
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The last thing you remember is the image of Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, and Bronya standing before you, the smokey, dark and ominous fog surrounding you.
Next thing you know, you're waking up in the middle of an unfamiliar weight of silk sheets pressing against your skin. Blinking rapidly, you tried to focus on the ornate ceiling above, its intricate patterns swirling in the soft morning light.
This wasn’t your room.
Confusion gripped you as you sat up quickly, only to be greeted by a pounding headache. Wincing, you pressed your hand against your forehead, trying to make sense of the disjointed memories in your mind.
The room around you was lavish, decorated with rich tapestries and elegant furniture. Everything seemed meticulously placed as if the room belonged to royalty.
The air smelled faintly of lavender and something else you couldn’t quite place. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.
Just how did you end up here?
Closing your eyes, you tried to recall the events that led to this moment. It all came back in fragments, like pieces of a shattered mirror.
You were standing up, shrouded in a dark, smokey fog. The air had been thick and oppressive, making it hard to breathe. Before you, Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, and Bronya stood with expressions of worry and determination. Their faces flashed in your mind, each one etched with concern.
Were you in a dream?
The fog, the faces—it all seemed so surreal. You opened your eyes again, scanning the room for any clues. The furniture was heavy and ornate.
A grand mirror stood in one corner, reflecting the dishevelled state of your appearance. Your clothes were the same as before but seemed out of place in this opulent setting.
Pushing the covers aside, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, feeling the cool marble floor beneath your feet. The pounding in your head persisted, but you forced yourself to stand, determined to get out of this unknown place.
Each step felt like a struggle, your body weighed down by an invisible force. You approached the window, drawing back the heavy curtains to reveal a breathtaking view of a cityscape blanketed in snow.
Tall, imposing buildings of grand architecture stretched out before you, their intricate designs dusted with white. The streets below were covered in a moderate layer of snow, and the occasional figure bundled in winter attire moved through the frosty landscape.
Your mind raced with possibilities. Had you been transported here by some unknown force? Was this just a particularly long dream? Shaking your head you cleared your mind, yes... it was a dream, it had to be a dream.
Besides suddenly waking up from an unfamiliar room, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched since the moment you awoke. Turning away from the window, you noticed a door on the far side of the room. It was slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of the hallway beyond.
Cautiously, you approached the door, your senses on high alert. Peeking through the crack, you saw a long corridor lined with more doors, each one identical to the next. The silence was eerie, broken only by the faint sound of your breathing.
Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open wider and stepped into the hallway. You wished that the floor was covered in carpet, it was extremely cold. You had no idea where you were going, but you couldn’t stay in that room any longer.
Turning a corner, you nearly bumped into a figure standing in the shadows. Startled, you took a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. The figure stepped forward, revealing a familiar face.
Grey hair, a pretty face, tall... the Astral Express golden ticket... wait...
“Caelus?” you whispered, barely daring to believe it.
Caelus’s eyes widened as he registered your voice. His surprise quickly turned into awe, and he stumbled backward, nearly losing his balance. Without a moment's hesitation, he dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead against the cold, hard floor.
"Your Gracefulness," he murmured, his voice trembling with reverence. "I am honoured to be in your presence."
You blinked, momentarily taken aback by his reaction. It wasn’t the response you expected. To them, you were not just a friend or a fellow traveller; you were the creator, the one who shaped their very existence. The weight of his words made you feel uneasy.
"Uh, please, get up," you urged, feeling a mix of discomfort and compassion. "You don’t have to kneel."
He hesitated for a moment before slowly rising to his feet, his eyes still filled with awe, oh his dear creator, what a kind soul they are! "Forgive me, Your Gracefulness. It’s just... we’ve been searching for you, and to find you here..."
Caelus was sure that he would get a scolding for talking to his Holy Grace for too long, he was sure of it. But he just couldn't stop the words pouring out of his mouth, all the years of yearning to meet you... and now you were here, right in front of him, before his eyes.
You offered a small nervous, reassuring smile despite the uncertainty gnawing at you. "I—I see." You bit your bottom lip, completely uncertain of what to do now as you stand there awkwardly with a curious Caelus.
"What... happened? I don't recall being here from the start," You asked, taking a moment to observe the ornaments around you. Caelus straightens his back, clearing his throat before speaking.
"You fainted a few minutes after coming out of the meteoroid. Thankfully Dan Heng caught you just in time, and then Bronya decided to keep you here, we were unsure when you would wake up."
"How long was I unconscious for?"
"Four days, your Grace."
"FOUR DAYS?!" The word came out in a disbelieving whisper, your mind reeling.
"Yes, your Grace." He nodded, a bit taken aback by your raised voice. You stood there, trying to process the information, feeling awkward and out of place.
Caelus's expression softened slightly before giving you a nod. "I'll take you to them." He guided you down the hall to another room, while you both walked you looked around once again, everything was different, not just your surroundings but the atmosphere was heavy.
You took in a deep breath, trying your best to calm yourself down. You knew that you were safe (although this place was still new to you), you knew these people, what they were like, everything.
They were famous video game characters. The very video game characters that you spend weeks on trying to find the right and perfect relic for them.
Honkai Star Rail drained your pockets, the lore and story were addictive, the play-style was addictive, and the pulling animation was addictive. Unsurprisingly, after a week of downloading the game, you were hooked.
It was a surprise that you weren't in debt... You shook your head, clearing your clouded mind. It was tough to digest the fact that you were walking right beside the Caelus!!
It was a silent walk with only the sounds of his shoes squeaking every there and then, it was clear how polished the floors were.
Caelus dared not to speak up in your holy presence. Was he even worthy of speaking to you let alone bask in your presence?
As you continued down the hallway, Caelus remained close by, his protective instincts heightened by your presence. The corridors seemed to stretch endlessly, each one identical to the last.
You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched, and the oppressive silence only added to your unease.
Calm down, you thought. No one's going to jump you..
Not long after Caelus stopped in his tracks, moving to the side as his hand rested on the door handle. The door was huge and elaborate, probably three times your size, and you finally heard faint voices.
Caelus signalled for you to stay back as he approached the source of the sound. Moments later, he beckoned you forward. You hurried to his side, peering into a large room filled with familiar faces.
As you entered, Dan Heng, Bronya, and Gepard looked up from their conversation. Relief, admiration and shock washed over their faces when they saw you.
"Your Gracefulness," Dan Heng said, bowing his head slightly. "I—It's a pleasure to meet you."
Everyone in the room had stood up from the seats, immediately bowing down with one knee, their eyes set downcast, refusing to even look at you. They remained solemn and reverent, their gestures filled with respect and devotion—an act that left you utterly speechless.
The room was silent, barely even a breath could be heard. You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, a deep discomfort settling into your bones.
This wasn’t something you were used to.
Back home, you were just another person, another face in the crowd. But here… here you were something else entirely apparently.
The realization struck you again, hard and jarring: you’d been "isekai’d" into the world of Honkai: Star Rail, a place where the characters you once guided and watched from behind a screen now saw you as their Creator, their Gracefulness.
But that didn’t make this any less strange.
"Please," you said, your voice shaky, betraying the unease you felt. "You don't need to do that. I'm just… I mean, I’m not—" You trailed off, struggling to find the right words.
How do you tell them that you didn’t see yourself as anything more than a normal person? That this whole situation felt surreal, like a dream you hadn’t quite woken up from yet?
Dan Heng, still kneeling, glanced up at you, his eyes calm and steady. "Your Gracefulness," he began, his tone soft but firm, "It is only right that we show you the respect you deserve. You are our creator, the one who has guided us through countless battles and decisions."
Bronya nodded, her gaze filled with a mixture of awe and dedication. "Without you, we wouldn’t be who we are today. This is the least we can do to honour your presence."
Gepard remained silent but his expression was resolute, as if nothing you said could change his mind about bowing before you. Caelus, however, looked a bit hesitant, perhaps sensing your discomfort more than the others. Yet, even he remained in place, waiting for your acknowledgment.
You swallowed hard, feeling a lump in your throat. It was overwhelming, this level of devotion and reverence. It wasn’t something you ever imagined experiencing, and certainly not something you knew how to handle.
You’d come here, to this world, not out of a desire to rule or be worshipped, but by some strange twist of fate. The weight of their expectations, their respect—it felt heavy, almost suffocating.
"I appreciate… everything you’re saying," you began slowly, trying to find the right balance between acknowledging their feelings and setting boundaries. "But really, you don’t have to bow to me. I’m still… me. Just a person. I’m not used to this, and it makes me feel… awkward."
The room fell into a brief silence, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. You could see the conflict in their eyes—caught between their ingrained sense of duty and their desire to respect your wishes.
Finally, Caelus was the first to move, rising to his feet with a small, understanding smile. "If it makes you uncomfortable," he said, "then we’ll try to find another way to show our respect. But know that our loyalty for you remains unchanged."
One by one, the others followed suit, standing slowly. Gepard gave you a respectful nod, while Bronya offered a gentle smile, her previous intensity softening. Dan Heng lingered the longest, his gaze searching your face as if trying to understand you better, before finally standing as well.
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, a small wave of relief washing over you. This was all so new, so overwhelming, but at least now, with them standing, you felt like you could breathe a little easier.
Even if you were their creator, you didn’t want to be put on a pedestal. You just wanted to go home.
"Thank you," you said quietly, your voice sincere. "I really appreciate it."
And with that, the tension in the room eased, the atmosphere shifting back to something more comfortable, more manageable. You were still trying to wrap your head around everything, but at least now, you didn’t feel so alone in it.
"We were worried about you." Bronya stepped forward, her expression a mixture of concern and determination. "Are you feeling alright? Do you need a doctor? I can get them right away—"
You shook your head, trying to maintain your composure despite the overwhelming emotions swirling inside you. "I'm alright," you said, but even as the words left your lips, you could feel the weight of them.
Your head was pounding, a relentless reminder of everything you had just been through. The disorientation, the headaches—symptoms of something far greater than mere confusion.
You were trying to grasp the reality that had been thrust upon you, the fact that you were no longer in your world, that you had died, and now… now you were here.
Dan Heng’s eyes softened as he watched you, his usually calm demeanour laced with a subtle concern. "It’s understandable that you’re disoriented," he said, his voice steady but filled with empathy.
"You’ve been through something unimaginable. Arriving here so suddenly… it’s not something anyone could easily adjust to."
You looked down, your mind flashing back to that moment—the car crash. The impact, the pain, the sudden darkness. You remembered the sensation of being pulled away, as if your very soul had been yanked from your body, only to be confined within something cold and unforgiving.
The next thing you knew, you were hurtling through the sky, encased in what felt like a stuffy coffin, and then… Belobog.
You winced, the memory of it all almost too much to bear. "What… what did you see when I arrived?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, heavy and laden with the fear of hearing the answer.
Gepard, who had been standing a little behind the others, stepped forward, his expression sombre. "When you appeared… you were in some sort of meteorite. It was like nothing we’d ever seen before. It came crashing down from the sky, landing just outside the city walls of Belobog."
"There was news that this month, the creator would return. Everyone was on high alert and once one of my guards spotted a mysterious crater, everyone knew that it had to be you."
Caelus nodded, his tone still filled with concern. "It was like a shooting star, only… darker. And when we approached, we saw you inside, unconscious. We had no idea what to do, but we knew we had to get you out of there, to help you."
Bronya’s gaze softened as she watched you struggle to process their words. "You were in a state of complete stasis, almost as if you were… suspended between worlds. We’ve never encountered anything like it."
The room seemed to close in around you as you tried to reconcile what they were telling you with what you knew—or thought you knew. You had died. You felt it. And yet, here you were, standing in a world you had only ever seen on a screen, surrounded by people who weren’t supposed to exist.
A headache pulsed at your temples, and you pressed a hand to your forehead, trying to steady yourself. The world felt like it was spinning, the reality of your situation crashing down on you like a tidal wave.
Caelus immediately stood by your side, his hands hesitating to hold you before shaking his head ever so slightly, holding your arm and waist to keep you from falling.
"I… I don’t understand," you murmured, more to yourself than to them. "I died. I remember the crash. I remember everything going dark, how on Earth did I..."
Dan Heng took a step closer, his presence grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. "It must have been a traumatic experience," he said softly, his voice gentle as if he were trying not to overwhelm you further.
"But you’re here now. Whatever happened, whatever brought you here, I think it was fate, just like how the legends had stated."
You wanted to believe him, wanted to find comfort in his words, but the reality of it all was still too much.
How could you be here, alive, in a place that shouldn’t even exist? And what did it mean that they were treating you like this—as if you were someone of immense importance, someone with power, someone they called their "Gracefulness"?
"I’m sorry," you said, your voice trembling slightly. "I just… I need a moment to process all of this."
Bronya stepped forward, her expression filled with understanding. "Take all the time you need. We’re here for you."
Gepard nodded in agreement, his voice steady and reassuring. "We’ll be by your side, your wish is our command."
You stood there, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, trying to make sense of everything that had happened, everything that was happening now. The room felt both too large and too small at the same time as if the walls were closing in on you while the ceiling stretched out into infinity.
——
The rest of the day passed in a blur of activity as you found yourself surrounded by a level of attention and care that was both overwhelming and humbling. Bronya, ever the efficient leader, took charge of organizing a grand celebration in honour of your return.
It was to be the most elaborate, grand and magnificent, parade ever. Only the best for their beloved creator.
The news of your arrival spread quickly, with messages sent across Belobog and even beyond, reaching the farthest corners of the world. Shops began to close in your honour, and preparations were set in motion to ensure that everything was perfect for the festivities that would last for months.
Caelus returned back to the Astral Express to spread the news to his friends who soon sent the message worldwide, especially to their alliances.
As the day wore on, you were never alone. Dan Heng and Gepard remained by your side, they would be your guards, though you couldn’t shake the feeling of being slightly out of place.
They escorted you through the grand halls of the Supreme Guardian’s residence, offering you a glimpse into the grandeur and history of Belobog.
The building itself was massive, with high ceilings, intricate carvings, and large windows that let in streams of light, casting everything in a golden glow.
Despite the opulence around you, your mind was still trying to adjust to the reality that had been put upon you. The remnants of your previous life, the memory of your death, the inexplicable warp that had brought you here—it all lingered in the back of your thoughts, creating an undercurrent of unease that you couldn’t quite shake.
But for now, you have to focus on the present. Gepard and Dan Heng took their roles seriously, ensuring that you were comfortable, well-fed, and taken care of in every possible way. When it was time to eat, you were treated to a feast of the finest foods Belobog had to offer, dishes prepared with such care and precision that you could taste the love in every bite.
They made sure you didn’t lift a finger, encouraging you to rest when you looked tired, and when the day began to take its toll on you, they arranged for a bath to be drawn in one of the grand, marble-floored bathrooms.
The bath was a welcome respite. The water was warm, and scented with calming herbs, and as you sank into it, you could feel the tension slowly melting away.
Maids attended to you, offering you soft towels and luxurious oils, treating you with a level of care that you had never experienced before. It was almost too much—this pampering, this constant attention—but you reminded yourself that this was how they showed their respect, their gratitude for your presence in their world.
After the bath, you were led to the room that had been prepared for you, its large windows offering a view of the snow-covered city below.
The bed was soft, the sheets made of the finest silk, and as you lay down, you couldn’t help but marvel at the turn your life had taken.
Just days ago, you had been living an ordinary life, unaware of what was to come, and now… now you were here, in a world that wasn’t supposed to exist, treated as a deity by those you had only known as characters.
Sure, today would have been amazing if it weren't for the fact of constant unease nagging you in the back, it was nice to be pampered and shown love, but at the same time, you wanted to go home, back to the place that you grew up in.
As you drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the luxury and comfort that had been arranged for you, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder how long this would last.
How long you would be able to maintain this facade, to accept the adoration and devotion of those around you when deep down, you still felt like the same person you had always been—just a regular human, trying to make sense of a world that didn’t make sense at all.
But for now, you had no choice but to go along with it, to embrace the role that had been thrust upon you, even if it felt like you were living in a dream.
A dream that, for better or worse, you couldn’t wake up from.
——
The next morning, you awoke to the sound of soft knocking on your door. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a pale light across the snow-covered city of Belobog.
You could see your breath in the cool air as you stretched, still disoriented from the events of the previous day. For a moment, you wondered if it had all been a strange, vivid dream—but the grand room around you, the luxurious sheets beneath your fingers, and the echo of voices beyond the door reminded you that this was indeed your reality now.
You called for whoever was outside to enter, and the door opened to reveal Dan Heng and Gepard, both standing tall and composed. Their expressions softened when they saw you, and you noticed the subtle way their shoulders relaxed, as if simply seeing you reassured them.
"Good morning," Dan Heng said quietly, his tone respectful yet warm. "I hope you slept well."
You nodded, managing a small smile. "I did, thank you."
Gepard stepped forward, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of concern and deference. "If there's anything you need, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask. We've arranged for breakfast to be brought to you, and after that, if you're feeling up to it, Bronya would like to discuss the plans for the upcoming celebrations with you."
Celebrations. The word lingered in your mind, bringing with it a mix of emotions. You still weren’t sure how to feel about all of this—the way everyone seemed to look at you as if you were something divine.
It was overwhelming, and part of you wanted nothing more than to retreat, to find a quiet corner where you could process everything on your own. But you knew that wasn’t an option. You had a role to play, and even if you didn’t fully understand it, you were determined to do your best.
"I… appreciate that," you replied, your voice softer than you intended. "I’ll be ready soon."
As the two men left to give you privacy, you dressed in the clothes that had been laid out for you—a simple yet elegant outfit that, while comfortable, still bore the intricate designs and rich fabrics that seemed to be a hallmark of Belobog's fashion.
You took a moment to steady yourself, taking deep breaths as you reminded yourself that you were in control, even if it didn’t always feel like it.
When you were ready, Dan Heng and Gepard led you to a grand dining room where a lavish breakfast had been prepared. The table was set with an array of dishes—freshly baked bread, fruits, pastries, and steaming bowls of porridge.
The sight of it all made your stomach twist, not from hunger but from the sheer extravagance of it. You took a seat, and though the food was delicious, each bite felt heavy for some odd reason.
As you ate, Bronya arrived, her usual stoic demeanour softened by a hint of nervousness. She greeted you with a respectful nod before taking a seat across from you. You noticed the way her eyes flickered to Dan Heng and Gepard, almost as if she were seeking their reassurance before she spoke.
"I’m glad to see you’re well," she began, her voice calm but measured. "The people of Belobog are eager to welcome you and show their gratitude for your return. We’ve begun preparations for a series of celebrations in your honour, and I wanted to discuss the details with you, to ensure everything meets your approval."
The idea of the entire city celebrating you—parades, feasts, and gatherings in your name—felt surreal. You weren’t sure how to respond, unsure if you could live up to the expectations they had of you.
"I don’t want to disrupt anyone’s life," you said cautiously, trying to find the right words. "It’s all very overwhelming. I’m not used to being treated like this."
Bronya’s expression softened, and she exchanged a glance with Dan Heng and Gepard, who stood behind you like silent sentinels. "Your presence alone is a gift to us," she replied gently. "We don’t see it as a disruption, but rather as an honour. The people are eager to show their gratitude and to celebrate this momentous occasion."
You nodded, feeling a mixture of unease and responsibility settle in your chest. "Alright. I’ll do my best to be what you need me to be."
Bronya smiled a rare and genuine expression that made you feel a little less out of place. "Thank you," she said simply. "We’ll take care of everything. You don’t need to worry."
The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of preparations and introductions. Bronya led you through the city, introducing you to key figures and showing you the various places where the celebrations would take place.
Everywhere you went, people bowed deeply, their eyes wide with star-struck in awe. It was both humbling and unnerving, and you found yourself struggling to find the balance between accepting their respect and trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy.
Dan Heng and Gepard never left your side, their presence a constant reminder that you weren’t alone in this strange new world. They were vigilant, ensuring that you were comfortable, that no one overwhelmed you, and that you had moments of rest whenever you needed them.
By the time evening fell, you were exhausted, both physically and emotionally. You had been paraded through the city, introduced to so many people, and shown the elaborate plans for the days and weeks to come.
All of it felt like a dream, and as you finally returned to your room, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of it all pressing down on you.
While you lay in bed, twiddling with the fine silk blanket, the other regions were preparing to finally gaze upon their divine creator.
——
In the Xianzhou Luofu, the atmosphere was charged with anticipation as the news of the Creator’s return spread. Within the grand halls of the Divine Foresight, Fu Xuan stood before the Council of Elders, delivering the monumental announcement that had just arrived from the Trailblazer.
"The Creator has returned," Fu Xuan declared with a calm but resolute voice. "They have descended in Belobog, and it is our duty to honour them with the highest respect and homage."
The Council of Elders, seasoned in both wisdom and combat, exchanged glances of disbelief and awe. The Creator, the one who had shaped their world and guided their destinies, was now walking among them once more. The gravity of this revelation weighed heavily on their minds, knowing that their response to this event would define their legacy.
Jing Yuan, the Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu, stood quietly at the back of the chamber, his usual calm demeanour betraying a hint of solemnity. The Creator’s return was a momentous occasion, and Jing Yuan felt the significance of this event.
"We must ensure that our tribute is worthy of their grace," he murmured, his eyes narrowed in contemplation.
Nearby, Loucha listened intently. His thoughts were more introspective, contemplating the deeper implications of the Creator’s return. Loucha, ever the observer, recognized the immense pressure that this event placed upon them all.
But unlike the others, his focus was not on the material offerings but on the spiritual and existential implications of meeting their Creator. He quietly resolved to find a way to honour the Creator not just through gifts but through his actions and service.
A casket would simply not do, although he was sure that you'd grow fond of it.
Hm, what else could he possibly give you...
Blade, as usual, remained silent throughout the meeting with the Stellaron Hunters. His mind, however, was not at ease. Blade’s relationship with the concept of the Creator is complex and filled with conflicting emotions.
Blade knew he had to play his part in honouring the Creator, even if it meant confronting the very things he had spent so long trying to suppress.
Preparations across the Xianzhou Luofu began immediately. Gifts were gathered from the most skilled artisans—finely crafted weapons, ancient scrolls, and traditional garments.
The best chefs prepared exquisite dishes that would showcase the rich culture of the Xianzhou. In every corner of the realm, citizens participated in rituals, prayers, and meditations, focusing their energies on the Creator.
Jing Yuan oversaw the strategic aspects of the journey, ensuring that their voyage to Belobog would be flawless. Loucha offered his medical expertise to make sure that everyone on board the vessels was in perfect health, while Blade had already begun making his way to Belobog along with Firefly and Kafka.
As the time for departure approached, the air was thick with reverence and anticipation. The Xianzhou Luofu were not just travelling to meet their Creator; they were about to present themselves as a testament to the Creator’s guidance.
Their journey to Belobog would be marked by the same dedication and honour that had defined their civilization for centuries.
Far away in Penacony, the city of innovation and creativity, the news of the Creator’s return was met with an explosion of activity. Penacony, renowned for its technological marvels and artistic achievements, reacted to the news with excitement.
Aventurine was among the first to receive the message. As soon as he got the text, he froze, eyes furiously scanning the text over and over again.
Was this real? Has the creator really come back? The one who he worshipped so obsessively?
He immediately rang Jade, his voice frantic as he spoke to her over the phone. "We cannot afford to delay," Aventurine stated.
"This is a once-in-a-lifetime event, and we must honour the Creator with everything Penacony has to offer."
Sunday, the head of the family, took charge of organizing the preparations. He ordered all renowned artists, engineers, and musicians all come together to create a tribute that would embody the spirit of their city.
Everything had to be perfect.
Sunday was enthusiastic for the Creator's return, it was not just a reflection of his usual cheerfulness—it was something far deeper, almost lovesick.
The moment he received word that the Creator had returned to their world, something in him ignited. It was as if all his life had been leading up to this moment, and now, he could finally fulfil his purpose.
“The Creator has returned,” he whispered to himself after first hearing the news, his voice trembling with a mix of awe and anticipation. His eyes, usually bright with optimism, now gleamed with a fervour that bordered on the intense.
To Sunday, this wasn’t just an event to celebrate—it was a divine calling, a chance to prove his unwavering devotion.
From that moment on, Sunday threw himself into the preparations with a single-mindedness that was almost unsettling. He didn’t just organize the celebrations—he orchestrated them with an obsession that left little room for error.
Every detail had to be perfect, and every gesture had to reflect the utmost reverence for the Creator. He wasn’t just leading the preparations; he was living them, breathing them, as though his very existence depended on it.
When rallying the artists and performers, Sunday’s usual encouragement took on a more insistent edge. “This isn’t just for any celebration,” he’d remind them, his eyes wide and unblinking. “It’s for the Creator. We must give them everything—our best and beyond.”
He’d hover over rehearsals, his smile still present but his tone sharper, more demanding. Mistakes weren’t just errors; they were almost blasphemous in his eyes.
In the kitchens, his involvement was even more intense. He tasted every dish, scrutinizing each one with a level of scrutiny that made even the most seasoned chefs nervous. “This dish needs something... more,” he’d say, his brows furrowing in concentration.
“It needs to be worthy of the Creator. Start again.” And they would, because Sunday’s passion was as contagious as it was overwhelming. Many chefs and assistants often gossiped with one another about Sunday's behaviour, he was far too obsessed.
They, of course, understood the importance of perfecting everything as well, it would be served under the gaze of their Almighty Creator, but Sunday was too overbearing, pushy and stubborn.
Everything has to be perfect.
His interactions with the other citizens of Penacony took on a different tone as well. While still encouraging, there was an underlying pressure in his words. “The Creator deserves only the best from us. Do you understand? This is our moment to show our love, and our loyalty. We can’t afford to disappoint them.”
As the days passed, Sunday’s obsession grew. He spent nights alone, surrounded by plans and lists, going over every detail until his eyes were red and his hands shook from exhaustion.
But he didn’t care. Sleep was secondary; his devotion to the Creator was all that mattered.
Boothill, unlike the others found himself in an unfamiliar situation. Normally at ease with a revolver in hand, Boothill was now tasked with selecting gifts that would impress the Creator.
He knew the importance of your arrival, but there was something that lingered at the back of his head. The memories would override his brain, successfully clouding his thoughts, all he could think about was revenge.
His home.
His daughter.
His family.
His beloved memories.
Gone. They were all gone, all because of one man: Oswaldo Schneider.
Perhaps... If he impressed you with his devotion and adoration, would you help get revenge for him? As the Creator, wouldn't you be so kind as to lend your devoted worshipper some help?
(He decided to contribute something personal—a custom-made weapon, intricately designed and crafted with precision.)
Once the word spread to Gallagher that you were finally home, Gallagher’s response was deeply rooted in a sense of duty and respect.
Like Sunday, he wanted everything to be perfect, not because of an obsessive need to impress, but because he believed it was the right thing to do.
In meetings, Gallagher was a voice of calm amidst the excitement, offering practical solutions to any challenges that arose. “Let’s focus on what’s important,” he would say, steering conversations away from extravagance and towards meaningful gestures.
He believed that the Creator would value sincerity and thoughtfulness over grand displays, and he ensured that Penacony’s contributions reflected that belief.
In his heart, Gallagher held a deep respect for you. His admiration was sincere, but it wasn’t showy. He didn’t need to prove his devotion through grand gestures or dramatic displays; his actions spoke for themselves.
He believed that true reverence was shown through quiet, consistent effort—through doing what was right, even when no one was watching.
He could just taste your happiness at the tip of his tongue, it was delicious. He began to think about your responses, what would you say? Would you accept his gift happily? Toss it away in digust?
“We’ve prepared these offerings with great care and respect, Your Grace. We hope they meet your expectations.” He would say.
"Oh, Gallagher! You shouldn't have!" You would reply.
Or...
"How bold of you to assume that I would accept such a gift from a low-life dog like you!"
Even a small smile would do.
No matter your response, he would still devote his entire being to you.
He had always been confident in his abilities, but now, faced with the Creator themselves, he wondered if his efforts would be enough. It wasn’t a question of worthiness, but of connection—he wanted the Creator to understand that Penacony’s gifts came from a place of genuine respect and loyalty.
Yet, even in this moment of uncertainty, Gallagher remained composed. He knew that whatever the Creator’s response, he had done his best.
And that, for Gallagher, was what truly mattered. He would continue to serve and protect, quietly dedicated to the Creator’s well-being, just as he had always done.
——
As the day of departure approached, Penacony and the Xianzhou Luofu were abuzz with activity. Airships were loaded with gifts, including traditional dishes, intricately designed artifacts, and artistic performances that would honour the Creator.
The entire city was involved in the preparations, each citizen contributing in their own way.
When the airships finally took flight, they carried not just the hopes of Penacony but also the dreams and creativity of its people.
This journey was more than just a trip; it was a pilgrimage to honour the Creator who had shaped their being.
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note: so many wips..
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