#Soul Side Festival

[aro-aizawa]

seemingly the only way i can ever get into any new thing is if i spontaneously decide to watch/read it

[thejoyofviolentmovement]

Live Concert Photography: The New Colossus Festival and Super Bock Presents Psymon Spine with Namesake, Willy Mason, Tea Eater and Abby Jeanne and The Shadowband at The Knitting Factory at Baker Falls 4/18/24

The New Colossus Festival and Super Bock Presents at The Knitting Factory at Baker Falls @SuperBock @NewColossusFest@KnitFactoryNYC @BakerFallsNYC @psymonspine @namesakenyc @Wwilly_masonN @TeaEaterTV @AbbyJeanneMusic @northernspyrecs

Live Concert Photography: The New Colossus Festival and Super Bock Presents Psymon Spine with Namesake, Willy Mason, Tea Eater and Abby Jeanne and The Shadowband at The Knitting Factory at Baker Falls 4/18/24 Earlier this month, I was at The Knitting Factory at Baker Falls to catch The New Colossus Festival and Super Bock‘s first show of their Spring and Summer showcase series. The first show…

[clochanamarc]

i wanna do stuff but i also don't know how to do anything on mobile, so the disco is bluethegoose !! lmk who you are, hmu and we can do some plotting or chatting or a call for an hour!

[stunie]

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI X F!READER — sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ mild cw alcohol ﾉ 596 word count ﾉ og req ﾉ in which ushijima picks you up and takes you home after you’ve had a little too much to drink and accidentally overhears you talking about him to your friends . . .

“Ehh? You really think Toshi is scary?”

He stops in his tracks just inches away from your friend’s door. Ushijima was never really the type to eavesdrop like this, but for some reason, his body had decided that he should wait this one out and listen. Just for a little. “..Why’s that?”

Your words sound a little slurred. Though he already knew you would be like this to some extent as soon as he received a text from your friend asking him to come by and take you home.

“Well…” one of your friends speaks up. “He’s just kind of intimidating, you know?”

The little noise of confusion he hears from you paints a crystal clear image in his head. You’ve always made that sound whenever you tilt your head to the side a bit— as if doing that would help you understand better or something. “Hmm… intimidating..?”

You start laughing. As if it’s the funniest thing you’ve heard all day. He hears your laughter muffled under something and assumes you’ve moved to hug and snuggle up against one of your friends. “Toshi? He’s not… not at all.”

“He’s the sweetest soul alive. I can prove it.”

“Oh? Can you? Tell us then.” Your friend chuckles a bit when you start humming and sighing, and he thinks one of them has started rubbing your back. You’ve always loved that. You make the exact same noise when he does that too. “Sure.”

Ushijima’s lips curl into the faintest trace of a smile when he hears the way you giggle— like you’re ecstatic just by being asked to talk about him. You really like him that much?

“I don’t know where to start,” it’s clear you’re talking through a big smile, and it only makes it harder to understand you— but he can. “One time, my heel broke. And so.. he carried me for the entire night. We were…. were at a festival, you know.

“I was on his back for hours..!”

Oh. He remembers that. The two of you had gone to try out different food stands, and he would feed you by holding up the fork with a piece stuck on at the end. You’d lean down and take a bite like some kind of bird perched on his shoulder. He remembers feeling really happy that night.

“And…. this other time…” your laughter trails off, and he raises a brow. “I was really sad. I was crying, and you know what he did?”

Oh, now that sounds a little more personal. Ushijima decides that it’s finally time to take you home with that.

“What did he do? Oh— look who’s finally here.”

You and your friends all turn to look at him as soon as he enters the room, though it would be hard to miss someone like him in the first place. His first thought is that he was right about you cuddling up with one of your friends. Your arms are wrapped tightly around their middle, face resting on their lap, and you barely muster up the energy to turn to face him.

“Ehh….” It looks like sleepiness is finally starting to hit you now that you’re comfortable. “Toshi? Ah… I’m imagining things now… hi, Toshi’s ghost. I’m his girl…”

You smile at him. It’s a big, sleepy smile— and it still makes his heart skip a beat, even if he doesn’t seem to outwardly react to it.

“Let’s go home.” He’s gentle when he kneels down beside you, gesturing for you to return to your favorite spot on his back. “You need rest.”

[dcxdpdabbles]

DC xDP Fanfi idea: The End and Beginning

It starts off simple. The Fentons move to a new universe once the AntiEcto-Acts are accepted worldwide. It was a problem when the USA enacted the laws, but convincing the rest of the world to follow suit left a bitter taste in their mouths.

It also made them feel highly useless.

Their youngest was a half-ghost, and after meeting the clone and alternative counterpart of said son, the Fentons family now were half of what the Acts claimed had no soul.

They could fight against the country and escape into the dead of night, but there was nowhere to hide when the whole planet hunted them. Unless you had a portal that could send you far away from the government dogs.

This was good because said dogs had managed to build their own portal. Nothing with Fenton Works tech, but it didn't seem to matter. They had a way into the Infinite Realms and planned on sending bombs through to vanquish the ghosts once and for all.

Clockwork had warned the planet's governing units, appearing in their skies and speaking every language.

"If you do this, then your world will end. Your world is a flip of ours. Without one or the other, everything will be destroyed."

His warning only further fueled their hate, and mods flooded the streets chanting for the bombs to be set off. It was like the whole world had lost their minds.

The Fentons cowered in their homes, trying desperately to get people to listen, but their words fell on deaf ears. Clockwork's reputation puts him in a challenging position. His natural dedication needed to remain neutral in any situation, but his soft spot for Danny made it hard to allow time to run its course.

In the end, he appeared before the Fentons with a message. "You must leave this world in one week. Everything will come to an end."

His warning had the group moving. They reached out to all their friends and extended family. Begging them to flee with them. Only Sam and Tucker arrived at their house on the last day, eyes puffy red, bags packed, and a daunting lack of their parents.

Clockwork sent them a ship. It looked like a glowing cruise ship, with wooden planks creaking and groaning as they climbed aboard. They were to pick a room and take shelter, understanding that once they sealed the door, they could not reopen it until they arrived.

The ship would travel at alarming speeds, protected from their timeline with Clockwork's power, but it would take everything the ghost had to keep them safe.

The final moment came, with the seven people pilling together in the largest room- The VIP balcony cabin. Sam, Tucker, and Danny held each other while sitting in front of the glass windows overlooking the fleeing ghosts- their world was also ending.

Maddie, Jack, Jazz, and Dani were in a pile on the bed, eyes shut tight and hugging each other with all their might. Tears rolled down their faces, but no one called it out. They were all mourning.

Dan stood to the side, arms crossed over his chest and leaning on the door. Despite not saying it out loud, they knew he wanted to guard it in case a ghost figured out the cruise was an escape pod. If a desperate enough ghost attempted to break through the door, their deal with Clockwork would be voided, and Dan would never allow it.

The moment came without warning. Multiple portals ripped open among the green skies. Through them, the Fentons could see cheering humans, treating the bombings like a giant festival. Fireworks, waving banners, music that thumped with glee- it made them all sick.

The first three bombs were set off. The Realms' reaction was just as instant, collapsing into itself as the humans' joys reached new levels of glee- until the holes warped into black holes, swallowing up the portal and the area around it.

One right after the other. Large glowing lights, then swirling darkness yanking everything into a quick, meaningless nothing. The humans were no longer cheering- now they were screaming. They were cowering.

But there was nowhere left to run.

Clockwork appeared in front of the trio, smiling sadly at them as multiple cracks appeared on his being. He mouths a sentence, placing one broken hand on the glass, and then pushes the ship away. At a speed that is more light than movement, the Fentons and their guests rush away, watching with horrified eyes as Clockwork breaks apart completely.

He vanishes into dust that gets absorbed into a black hole. Dan and Danny's noise is gutted, ripped from somewhere deep in their cores.

The cruise crumbles around the pressure of the push. Wooden pieces are shaken off the ship, shattering from the effort to keep itself together, and fall into the void as they watch, unsure of Clockwork's power, which would be enough to withstand the breaking of a timeline. Soon, only their room remains; even that, it starts to show glowing green cracks on the wall.

Dan glares at them, never hating something as much as the sight of them, while his family and kid brother's friends start to sob. Suddenly, everything comes to a stop.

Or rather, a large being made entirely of light, taking the shape of a human man, catches their cabin. They all stumble, thrown from their positions as the glowing white human shape brings them to its large face. It's like looking into a marble statute with no distinctive face, only the barest of outlines that could count as a face.

"You bear Clockwork's mark, but he is not with you," The being says, blinking its large eye into the window. The swirling red of its pupils baths the humans and ghosts as they stare back open jaws. "How curious"

"Who are you!?" Dan demands, stepping away from the door. "How did you survive the destruction of the timeline?!"

The being eye's dim. "Clockwork is dead then. I told him I would welcome him into my realms, but he chose to send his kin instead. What a sentimental fool."

Dan's human features melt away, and his ghost forms burst from an explosion of flames. "Who are you!?"

"Your kind calls me Speed Force." It replies after a movement, sounding slightly amused, "And I grant you sanctuary as a favor to an old lover. Live well."

With a snap of its fingers, the group vanishes into a bright light, appearing in the middle of a blue sky. Gentle clouds float around, spread out like a mist. It a daunting change from the darkness and the screams.

The group gawks at the sight before gravity reaches up to grasp the broken remains of the cruise ship within its claws. It rips from them the sky, sending them into a downward spiral.

Dan's flames are smothered out as he desperately reaches for it "I can't go, ghost!"

"Me either," Dani screams, clinging hard to Maddie.

"Speed Froce took our powers." Danny realizes, clutching Sam and Tucker closer. "Everyone brace for impact!"

They hit the ground hard and flung around like rag dolls as the last of Clockwork's powers desperately tried to shield them. The glowing green cracks quickly spread until they resemble spider webs.

They hit the ground with a loud bang, sliding through a few layers of dirt. The group is flung against the wall, Dan grunting in pain when Sam slams against him from the force.

Ultimately, the wood can't hold itself together, and it shatters just as it crumbles to a stop. They all land with pain and cries against the hard ground, in a pile of limbs and confusion.

"Oh my," A woman says, standing on her porch overlooking the Fentons. Beside her is a wide-eyed man, one steaming mug in his hold. "Pa, I think I need to put more coffee. We have guests."

Above the couple is a wooden sign with faded but beloved letters. It reads Kent Farm.

[brynn-lear]

The Abduction of King (Y/n) [Yandere Mydei x Reader]

A/n: Here I go, an asexual trying to learn how to write smut, so bear with me as I start this journey. Also, note that this story presumably happens after the entire Amphoreus Quests, so I’m running under assumptions on how the story ends. I enjoyed writing this reader. It’s always refreshing to write nice people turned feral.

Unreliable Synopsis: The new Stellaron Hunter, King (Y/n), is always welcome to visit the Express. Life has a way of changing a person… And Mydei couldn't accept his beloved’s new “whatever will be, will be” attitude.

CW/Tags: female reader (“King” is your title), slight hurt/comfort, yandere!mydei, toxic relationship, heavily implied one-sided sunday/reader, mild violence, and dubcon elements 

To smell and taste pomegranate juice— such were your aspirations before living the life you have now. 

You are simultaneously at the lowest and highest point of your life.

Being falsely accused of "matricide" was an unpredictable way to achieve that wish, yet you are nonetheless grateful for the hand you dealt with. You'd dare say it's a blessing in disguise. Despite your retainer’s blatant “betrayal”, you were thankful he had ground your knees against gravel and harsh pebbles. If anything, he wrote you a lovely story.

(Y/n) was exposed to have “murdered” her mother, the King, in the Charmony Festival.

Former King (Y/n) originally fled her mysterious unknown planet.

Former King (Y/n) joined the Stellaron Hunters soon after.

Exciting, is it not? Crimes you hadn't committed weighed intolerably upon you. Your planet, Amphoreus, wouldn't dare open its mouth for a choir. No tears shall be collected in jars should you perish, instead, your funeral will be basked with laughter. Daidalos is not a forgiving nation. The Daidalosan Cathedrals would sooner strike a beloved saint’s statue down than a chord from your songs. 

You still vividly recall Kafka’s opaque stare through her tinted glasses. The playful yet empathetic smirk on her face served to entice you to her. She needn't use a whisper. Fate just had its way with you.

The Nameless get to shelter a wounded bird, while the Hunters take on a new apprentice.

As poetic as that sounds, your resolve isn't cruel and unfeeling. If it were, you doubt the Express would take kindly to your serene shenanigans.

You giggled. Truth be told, you were aware as to why March left in a hurry. 

You may hold yourself with sheer elegance and an astute gaze befitting of the crown, but behind it lies a mischievous streak that remains undetected. What can you say? Perhaps this sneakiness is an act of love. You do miss their company.

Several months ago, the Nameless went on a dangerous mission to Amphoreus. 

The unknown planet the galaxy you hailed from that the rest of the galaxy does not know?

That was Amphoreus.

 The very same planet you escaped from was the place Dan Heng and Stelle landed blindly.

Aside from Elio, only a single soul knows this one other dangerous fact: you cannot taste or smell anything— and fall victim to catatonic moods more capriciously than others. Your ailment does not terrify you more than Kafka’s lack of fear (ironically), Yingxing’s mara— and especially not more than Firefly’s syndrome. Just a scratch to your patchwork of problems. You had support. Your people once wholeheartedly gave you your flowers for the good you've done. And it pains you immensely how you cannot express genuine gratitude for it.

You may have been a great King, but Kephale never favored you. Unfortunately, you cannot resign to THEIR uneven-handedness much longer.

You are not a Chrysos Heir.

You are just an Amphoreus Tragedy.

It's no small wonder that you offered your life to Elio, hoping he'd one day pull out a feast that would satisfy your tastebuds. That day won't happen any time soon. Not that you mind.

Cause you'll get to see Stelle, Dan Heng, March, and Sunday suffer while drinking your horrendous drinks— if you're lucky, Himeko’s as well.

Ah, your seemingly earnest and just demeanor is truly a gift that keeps on giving. Your “friends” are gone. You stand on new ground, one that allows you to take the smallest things to heart.

Your mother’s “murder” is when you started noticing what matters in life.

Now, you enjoy the silence.

Listen deeply. The child in you that wasn’t allowed to. Let it heal.  

It’s what Kafka ordered you to do, and it was the best command a King could ever receive.

“Going somewhere?” 

You stopped walking and looked up from your phone. A familiar young boy standing by the doorway. He had a small smile on his face, despite barring the exit.

“Lord Elio?”

“Indeed,” he nodded. “This is your first time seeing me in this form. And I assure you, this won't be the last.”

Given his clairvoyant abilities, you figured that to be true.

“My apologies for not recognizing you, Lord Elio,” you frowned. “I'm afraid I have grown more accustomed to your feline form.”

“No need for apologies.”

He handed you a machete.

Machetes are your weapon of choice, and quite frankly, no other steel fits like a glove. The lances of Daidalos do not compare to the satisfying momentum brandishing a machete elicits. Unpolished. Unkingly. Unsightly.

Personally? 

… You thought they were cute.

They remind you of someone.

They say never bring a weapon to a fistfight, but that little prince never minded.

You cleared your throat but stopped yourself when Elio raised his hand, disinterested in how you would inevitably pay him back in credits or an equivalent.

"I-I am most grateful, yet I must inquire— what purpose does this serve?" You inclined your head slightly, your gaze steady. "Is there an urgent expedition that demands my attention?"

“If there was an emergency, there would have been a contingency plan beforehand.” The boy giggled, fixing his bow tie with a smug smile. “But no, I just urge you to take this on your way to the Express. Just in case a small miracle triggers. Which, I doubt.”

Hmm, there must be a threat later then. Shame. 

Elio cautioned you. “You might also regret wearing that.”

“Wearing what?”

“Red.”

You assessed your appearance. At first, you thought nothing wrong about your flinty rings and maroon pantsuit. “Does it not look good on me?”

“One might say it’s too good on you,” Elio muttered. “Let’s hope it doesn’t reach that point.”

“Understood.” You bowed.

“Lastly, King (Y/n)?” Elio shook his head. 

“Yes, my Lord?”

“Do not bow for me,” he exhaled, mildly exasperated by your antics. “You are one of us. You are a Stellaron Hunter, do you understand?”

“Yes, of course, my Lo—”

“None of that either!”

“Yes… Elio.”

“Better,” the young boy opened the exit.

Then, he opened his eyes. It's those piercing blue shades that make you both uncomfortably seen and relievedly accepted.  

“Next time you come back, we'll have a giant feast for your return. No pomegranates. It's a feast that may just be more memorable than your previous birthday celebrations.” Elio’s grin widened. “Truth is, once our prodigal King returns, she shall become a Stellaron Hunter.”

No pomegranates? Become a Stellaron Hunter? What an odd choice of words— and aren't you already a hunter?

Does it even matter?

You can’t taste anything.

You laughed. Elio loves your laugh for it was always a whole, hearty, and joyous sound. A laugh befitting a king. 

“Much like my favorite bard, I do not understand a word out of you. However, do not worry—” You stepped out the door. 

“I am looking forward to it!”

“I'm ashamed I can't show you a better sight when you've been enthused to visit. What a pity. I cannot stand to present to you such weaklings.”

“Weaklings, you say.” You muttered. “Little prince, their rib cages are stretched open with limbs bleeding out. This torture you call training outmatches the way we Daidalosans treat prisoners.”

You picked up the tortured gladiator’s weapon.

It was a machete.

“Was it necessary to torture them…?”

“Δασκάλα μου (My teacher), they have insulted you and Daidalos. I cannot allow such slander to the former.”

You saw the intense sincerity in his eyes and turned away.

No matter how many times you have rejected his heart, he continues to court you in ways that disturb many.

“You care too much about me. I hope you would spare such care for your gladiators instead.”

“And you care too little about yourself. This is precisely why your nation fears our military might, King (Y/n). Make no mistake, everyone suffers in their imagination more often than in reality.” He scoffed. “Even these soldiers.”

█████ laughed. To him, this is one of many days where no one remembered the fallen except for spectators such as yourself. █████ watched as your eyes batted over the strewn rubble where your grandfather’s soldiers once fought for the realm’s peace. He saw conflict in those (e/c) eyes. A dead silent remorse for faces you have never truly seen.

Even so, you smiled sadly. 

That smile was out of place in Prince █████'s Spoliarium.

“███, that may be your opinion, but our mind IS our reality. It may seem overdramatic and unreasonable to you, but the pain is not any less real.”

“We seriously need to master how to make coffee before (Y/n) gets here….”

“Don't worry so much, Dan Heng, we at least persuaded Himeko to visit Herta so that's one big bomb deactivated!”

“... should you be adding that much Halovian sugar? I believe that unhealthy proportions are against many culinary rules.”

“Rules? What rules, Sunday? Nah. These are guidelines.” 

“What— Stelle, NO!!!”

You snorted a sound that does not sound elegant in the slightest. Both Dan Heng and March 7th apprehended their callous friend. Sunday’s wings perked up upon hearing you, and a smile formed on his face before he even knew it. Meanwhile, the three only took notice of you when they successfully extracted the sugar from her hands.

You placed a hand on your mouth, hiding any impolite laughter.

“I've just arrived, and it sounds like an interesting conversation. Shame, I should've arrived moments prior.”

“(Y/n)! Nonsense, you came at a perfect time.” Sunday sauntered joyfully, standing up to usher you toward Shush’s counter. “There's a seat beside me, please come here.”

“Look at him, already making the moves,” March whispered to Stelle, snickering.

Stelle, a master of the stoic expression, only nodded. “Let him cook.”

Dan Heng rolled his eyes, ignoring the two.

“King (Y-”

“Just (Y/n), please.” You pouted. “You are all an equal to me.”

“... (Y/n).” Dan Heng scratched his neck. “About the brewing session…”

Your questions were lost in Dan Heng’s recitals of Himeko leaving for Herta’s Space Station, Stelle’s failed attempts at brewing her cup (it somehow turns into alcohol-like beverages), and the crew’s insistence that the next batch should follow online recipes. This made you laugh more than you thought you would. So, you decided to drop the idea altogether, to everyone’s relief.

“Instead, we can talk about our last journey instead, how about it?” Stelle offered.

Your smile stiffened.

“Ah, yes, I believe that was in…”

“Amphoreus!” March grinned. “The pictures Dan Heng and Stelle took were so nice. Here, let me get it—”

“There is no need for that.”

You spoke a little too quickly.

More perceptive than you thought, the crew noticed your sudden change.

“(Y/n)?” Sunday spoke, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Is something wrong?”

“I know why.” Stelle pushed away from the table, upsetting her chair before theatrically balancing herself back. She then went on carelessly:

“It’s because she’s from Amphoreus.”

March’s eyes widened. “WHAT?!”

You looked away, sighing. “Shush, do you have a bottle of Retsina wine?”

“Wait, w-where did you get this information, Stelle?” Dan Heng shook her slightly. “I don’t recall hearing that—”

“She’s the former King of Daidalos, which is far away from Okhema. Honestly, I just saw it around stone tablets. Daidalos is a long-fallen land of artisans. People thought she died by execution because no one believed she did reach beyond the sky. They also say she’s the mentor and childhood crush of crown prince M—”

“You know a lot and you never thought to tell us about ANY this?!” March gawked. “What the heck Stelle!?!”

“I just thought it wasn’t that important.”

“Yes, yes it is!!!”

While the three argued over details, Sunday took the bottle from Shush and poured you a glass. There’s a look of understanding in his eyes, and he won’t ask unless you want him to. You gave him a small smile, acknowledging his empathy.

“You look rather pale, have those Hunters done something to you?” Sunday inquired, his unease blatant. “Is it your mission? Have they been asking the impossible?”

“What? No. My workload is infinitely a lot less weighty than the crown.” You grinned, teasing. “It's all light work.”

He figured he had nothing else of value to add. Still, his eyes were skewed. Sunday won't be dropping the issue any time soon.

“Then why do you look kinda miserable?” Stelle asked.

“Steeeeelle! C’mon, watch your mouth. How do you always sound so offensive?” March whined.

You placed a hand on your head. “Hmm, I shall not lie, nightmares have been mostly a root cause for my unsightly and dim appearance as of late. Pathetic, I am aware—”

“Nightmares?” Dan Heng shifted his body forward, closer to you. “Like what?”

“I dream of an old… friend a lot more frequently.” You paused. Should you be saying this? “And more often than not, I'm being… chased… by him.”

Both Stelle and March looked at Dan Heng. He bit his bottom lip, thinking. 

“... Where is your new mission?”

“Elio has given me no command,” You sighed deeply. “He declared that the plans are already set in motion, and it falls upon me to rise to the occasion, whatever challenge it may be that calls upon me.”

“Oof. Good luck.” Stelle said, but the air of those words seems a little more knowing.

March chuckled nervously. “Yikes…”

Sunday had no comment. Instead, he also poured himself a drink.

“I'd be wary if I were you.” Dan Heng’s gaze was astutely focused on yours. “I've been through something similar. Nightmares, that is.”

"Is that so?" You murmured, swirling the coffee in your cup with an air of detached curiosity. "And what transpired thereafter?"

“...”

March 7th laughed, uneasy.

“Well, uh, it kinda came true?” March’s eyebrow furrowed, wearing a strained smile. “It's good though, Blade didn't actually kill him so…?”

“March.”

“I'm sorry, it was just too silent, I couldn't stand it!”

“... What were the dreams like? Can you elaborate?”

You paused at Sunday’s questions.

█████ towered over your chained form, clenching an open letter in his strong hands. His knuckles were white from the sheer anger he held them.

“Entertaining a love letter, are we?”

He sneered.

“How dare you consider suitors other than myself?”

█████ knelt down and harshly grabbed your chin.

“Shall I pluck his feathers out for you?”

“Cold.” 

You muttered. “Lacks warmth.”

Sunday has never been this tempted to get into someone’s mind.

Dan Heng placed a hand on his chin. 

“Anything else? Like vivid smells or tastes?”

You laughed. “Are those things important?”

“Sorta?” March quipped.

“Is that so…” You wouldn’t know. Both senses eluded you.

…

…

Suddenly, you had willed your words into existence.

“!!!”

Someone uninvited has entered the Express.

An immediate tension gripped everyone’s lungs, and each heart in the vicinity quickened. A subtle shift, imperceptible yet undeniable, stirred them all. A silent warning. Eyes darted nervously, glances exchanged with no words. The Nameless knew that something was about to emerge. The weight of the unknown pressed heavily upon their shoulders, and though none dared speak it aloud, they could feel it— whatever was coming was drawing near.

The lights flickered and died out.

“LOOK OUT!!!”

Enshrouded by a ghost who trailed behind, you grabbed Sunday and jumped away. The sound of metal rang. None of you could see the other. Pompom’s screams, asking for what was happening, droned on inside the other car. 

You must’ve barely dodged that attack. Swiftly, you brandished your machete. Instincts that infiltrated each inch of your veins screamed that the intruder you faced was a familiar soul. Your body warmth congealed a hand’s breadth below the blade’s sharp rim. It’s been a while since you felt this threatened.

This excited.

You sported a boyish grin. Been a long long while since you had felt true risk— a real divergence from your tolerable comfort zone.

“Come and face me in the light, coward.”

The figure drew their already built frame taller to stiffen their pride.  You spun to the side, narrowly avoiding a crushing blow that tore through the air. Your instincts were sharp.

With a final joining of force and momentum, you swung your machete with half of your strength.

It met the shadow’s fists, causing an ear-bleeding stalemate of metal against metal.

Seconds passed, and it was clear that an impasse had been reached.

You both pulled away— and the figure ignited a fire within his palms.

As if your eyes were spiked with visions of red and yellow— you squinted at the strange man. His bare skin and intense eyes are enough to make the common man buckle his knees and tremble. 

But you know that face.

It's the one soul who knows your secrets.

You paled.

“... Dei?”

That face, though aged, belonged to the young boy you taught patiently. The same stubborn boy who wanted peace for his people even though the chances were slim. The only person who would vouch for your innocence. The kid who you secretly envied for his cursed immortality— for his status as a Chrysos Heir.

The little prince who wanted you beside HIS throne.

It was Dei himself. 

Crown Prince Mydeimos of Kremnos— the land of Daidalos’ “worst enemy”.

“Dei” grinned. He languidly raised his head, his gaze towering above you. A shadow clouded his face and settled in his eye.

You, who had reduced his name to one syllable on the day you met, was the first woman he had come to admire ardently.

Riotous pomegranate wines that hedonistically spill in white table cloths that adjoin themselves like countries on a map— saintly garbs donned by faces achieving a carnal state of euphoria— those were the images that describe Daidalos to the crown prince. Holy, but unrighteous. 

Yet, when the sky brightly illuminated your face at the outdoor picnic you extended the invite to, the Prince was royally smitten. Humbly, you were dressed only in a simple sundress. No accessories or cloaks to elevate yourself. In the seeded topsoils of the plains, you were the most natural beauty to behold.

Mydeimos had grown obsessed with the consistent air of absentminded integrity you carry as King. It was not an aura he had the privilege of carrying. But he will live that life vicariously through you.

“Δασκάλα μου. (My teacher.) Kαρδιά μου. (My heart.)” The prince scoffed an airy smirk. Not a word can describe his smug satisfaction. “Found you, at long last.”

Chrome, gold, and pomegranate red.

Those had always been his colors.

And that included the color of…

“You adorn yourself in every color but red, is there a reason why?”

“Red is more of your color, little prince.” You humored him. “And a King wearing red is an omen for war. The same is said for our flag.”

“I see.”

… blood and war. A color entirely suited for his calling.

You froze without breathing, struck dumb.

How did he leave Amphoreus?!

You greeted with a frown.

“... Hello, little prince.”

You can’t believe this.

Leaving took you centuries to perfect!

How did he do it?!

Mydei instantly detected within you an erosion of self-assurance.

Just talking to him felt no different from downing some of Kafka’s fancy wines. While you consider yourself above petty theft, this situation compels you to understand her deeply. You, too, would pocket Dreamjolt Hostelry’s alcohol to an amount you felt was just after talking to this prince.

He recklessly held your blade. The Chrysos Heir thrust your weapon’s handle against your palm whilst his own bled profusely.

It had always been difficult to challenge an opponent with no self-preservation.

“Has joining these intergalactic bandits stripped you of every bit of decorum, King (Y/n)?” He shook his head. Taking advantage of your paralyzed state, the prince yanked the machete away, allowing it to pelt to the floor with a harsh thud. 

The prince leaned down to kiss your hand, but the sudden pause shocked both you and him.

“Where is it?” He spoke gravely with murderous rage.

You pursed your lips. “Where is what, Prince Mydeimos?”

“Your ring.” Mydei spoke. “The Daidalos King’s ring.”

A laugh escapes your lips. One without any semblance of humor.

“It is a ring that adorns only the hand of a King, does it not? Yet I, alas, no longer bear such a title. You may put those facts together to form your conclusion.” You answered, nose turned up snobbishly. 

He glared.

The prince threw what was assumed to be a warp device that formed a distortion that connected the Express to Amphorous. Your eyes widened and you snapped back to make eye contact with Stelle. 

You only had a second to think.

“CALL KAFKA!!!—”

“(Y/n)!!!”

But before they could reach and save you, you and the intruder disappeared.

Just as there was no consensus if the Nameless should involve themselves in this matter or not, no trailblazer had the same opinion of following suit aligned with their beliefs. Sunday desperately tried to have everyone on his side, whereas the wiser of the crowd had more sway with their stable voices. The three only had to watch and wait for Kafka to arrive. 

Until then, the express was silent.

Crown Prince Mydeimos, son of Gorgo, may not be the sharpest of men— but he lived a proud life.

“That Prince again, how many more of our King’s time shall he exhaust?!”

“I do not know myself, Aitherios, but he certainly does not mean well.”

“And we are to let that man linger in our castle?”

“I suppose so.”

“But Luminia!—”

He had never hid his true self. There, Mydei would stand, taking no more notice of them than they are of him. Though usually unrestrained, he would hold himself back for those who spat venom were your people. People you had loved and cherished for centuries longer than you’ve known him. 

And he is no one but a person you’d go to picnic with on a sunny day.

Despite his raging mind, he kept his mouth shut about your unpleasant servants. He’d bear the pain of every word. He’d even accept lashes and whips if it meant he could sit beside you in your favorite picnic spot another day.

He stays rooted in a field where he does not belong.

That was how much Mydei loves you.

"Alas, it is a sorrow that your visit is swift. Had it been under better circumstances, I would have bid you stay and witness an Epic with me thereafter." You sighed, placing the teacup under your lips. "The young lad, who once struggled to wield a greatsword, now holds the power to lay waste to my very castle at his will. How swiftly the years slip away..."

Mydei’s gaze softened. 

On his frequent idle days, he systematically fit visiting Daidalos in his schedule. This is all in hopes that someday, you’d see him beyond what nostalgia portrays.

Why can’t you see that he obsesses over you the way a man would to his woman?

Frustrating how YOUR visits became less warm and less frequent. Was it custom only that bound the two of you? That cannot be so. You refer to him beyond his station, as he does to you as well. 

Surely, you feel the same beating as he does?

There is no other possibility, is there?

The only thing that stands between you two and the altar must be the crowns you both will and have been carrying. If your people only loved him—- if both your people only cared for one another instead of a constant rivalry for Nikador’s gaze.

"It must be so. As it stands, the folk of Daidalos and Kremnos are far from sharing the civil discourse you and I enjoy." Mydei gently set his cup upon the blanket spread across the verdant earth. "In the quietest recesses of my heart, I wish for a day when my people might share a picnic with yours."

“Do you wish me to crayon a series of plans?” You teased.

“Do not mock me, King (Y/n).”

“The offer for a treaty stands.” You shrugged, your face turned solemn. “That is unless the brutal culture of Kremnos has a better idea of peace?” 

Mydei chuckled.

“How about an abduction?”

“H-Hah—”

His lips claim yours in a fierce, desperate kiss. It's as if a dam has broken, all of his pent-up desire and longing pouring out at once. His calloused hands tighten around its grip, holding you close as he deepens the kiss— his tongue tastes you with the desperation he's not articulate enough to voice. You'll just have to take him as he is. Rogue and animalistic.

You punched his chest. As expected, he didn't falter. Instead, his gaze was tender and his breathing was more… pleased.

“Y-You look ravishing in red.” He smirked. "And to think that bird thought he could please you the way I do."

A husky, ragged moan sneaked out of his lips as he seemingly devoured and shared his heat with yours in unison. No escape. This was far from comfortable. Your back was pinned on the cold Spoliarium walls. You gasped as you felt the subtle and slow motion of his hips grind against your smaller frame. Mydei tilted your head to the side slightly to deepen the kiss.

The worst part? Both your eyes were open, for two reasons on the opposite side of the same spectrum.

He wants to watch his cornered prey, and you're his frozen fawn.

A few years ago, you had shown him mercy in hopes he’d do the same. His eyes were a murderer’s eyes, his hands were a murderer’s arms. But he is without sin. Mydei did not choose to have a murderer’s eyes and hands. And you had refused that he will be treated as such.

You should have.

Just when you felt your eyes fluttering shut at the immediate danger of passing out— the prince graciously pulled away. You saw a sliver of saliva disconnect between both your lips. Almost insane how this had your legs threatening to lay on the floor. The fact that you can barely stand from his intensity boosted a pride greater than a long spar in him. 

Then, the prince hoisted your thighs up and forced them to wrap around him. Your back hasn't had a single moment wherein it hasn't had contact with the wall. Your body hasn't had a single moment wherein you haven't had contact with his warm skin. Your gaze was pathetically unfocused.

“N-Not…” You couldn't help but jest, like old times. “H-How I expected to have my first kiss.”

You felt your spine shiver but had the strength to not make that undirected fear known. Nothing feels right about that place. His Spoliarium was too cold, too dusty, yet his hands were too hot like a forever sun in his palm.

Slowly, he cupped your cheek. Even that loving gesture was rough and intrusive.

Mydei scarcely had a definition for what romance is.

“The fault is your own for expecting gentleness from me.” Mydei brought his lips to your ear. You shivered as he leaned down and nibbled your neck.

Divine. 

You tasted divine. If only you could taste him too, then maybe you'd be more enthused for a “rougher” expression of intimacy. If he could take you now—

You shrank back, terrified. Mydei has been difficult to read on occasion, but tonight his thoughts are blatant and disturbing. You hope your instinct was wrong.

“T-Truth be told, I expect no intimacy from you. I-Is this a—” you panted, weakly gripping his muscular arm. No matter how much willpower you had, you couldn't stand upright. “—form of punishment? I-I wasn't aware Aglaea has e-employed you to guarantee my c-capture.”

“I came of my own volition.” Unbeknownst to you, Mydei’s glare was chilling. “How dare you assume I'd betray you.”

“How dare I, indeed…” You winced. “Why did you come here—”

Unfortunately, the prince was quick to forestall further questions. You helped from the sudden jolt of both pain and pleasure as he bit your neck harshly while he slowly rubbed his hips against you. Mydei was leaving too many marks in his wake. The heat was becoming unbearable.

You gripped a fistful of his hair, hoping to yank him off. “M-Mydei— in Kephale’s name, I command you to—”

“You wanted this.”

He pulled away, and you cursed yourself for feeling almost needy as he created a reasonable distance between you two.

“King— no, MY (Y/n).” Mydei took strands of your hair, kissing it innocently but his eyes were anything but. “I have desired you for too long as well.”

His hand slid under your shirt. You jolted as he squeezed your waist. 

There are times his replies slip so easily that it makes you question their sincerity. This was not one of them.

“I presume with that visage that you’re regularly, at the very least, 3 hours of obliterating sleep.” He pulled your shirt up. “May I know the names of the men who’d find themselves in my Spoliarium soon?”

You almost mentioned Elio in defense of the Hunters, but kept your mouth shut.

“Curse you, Mydeimos.”

He clicked his tongue, snaking his fingers around your neck.

“What dishonorable struggle. I never thought you would have cold feet.” Mydei lightly tightened his grip on your throat. “I offered an abduction, and you agreed.”

“W-What? What abduction?”

Cold feet?

"Reflect further. You possess wisdom far greater than mine."

Your eyebrows furrowed, remembering the conversation. “I only replied because I thought it was said in jest!”

“I am not a man who would jest about entering such a solemn union.” He growled. "You know well that I speak with the full gravity of truth in every word I say."

You paused.

…

Cold feet. Abduction…

Wait…

“Abductions, are they a ritual of sorts…?”

Mydei closed his eyes, huffing in mild amusement.

“...You did not understand that custom, did you?”

“N-No…”

He leaned his face closer, his breath touching your skin.

“Marriage.” His gaze softened. “It is a marriage custom in Kremnos. You have verbally agreed to marry me. And I shall reap what promise is owed to me.”

You felt your energy drain away. A sickening chill.  

Most of your life— it was spent on becoming a perfect ruler. You were chalk honed and clawed with lessons upon lessons upon lessons of strength and wit. Your family did not care if you were even made of a fragile core. But chalk is brittle. Chalk cannot withstand any more of this madness. This lack of human regard. This inhumane treatment. 

You do not love Dei.

You can never bring yourself to love the prince you thought of as a little brother.

“B-But I… I do not…”

“You do not love me. I have heard that lie from you several times.” He kissed your hand. “You have stabbed and buried me several times, yet I will continue to crawl back in your arms.”

Mydei chuckled.

“And tomorrow, we shall have our wedding despite it all.”

He saw how the despair dawned on you. You were shaking. Your breath was shallow and uneven, and he noticed the twitch in your hands, far too unlikely the steadiness of the former warrior King of Daidalos.

No one truly listens to the King.

You are more puppet than king, and everyone revered you for it. You only do what is required of you. What was needed of you. What was desired of you. 

No one truly hears what you wish for yourself. No one cared enough to know you were hungry for the true sensations of what tastes and smells truly are. No one asked you questions as to why you were obsessed with observing nature in the first place. Each person just approaches your throne in hopes they’ll take what they want. No one listens, except for…

This was the part he had anticipated— the fear, the panic, the realization that you were trapped. But instead, you did something... unexpected.

“... Hah… Haha!”

And then, slowly, something twisted inside. The edges of your lips curled upward— at first, just a flicker. You clutched at her chest as though trying to hold yourself together. Your laugh broke free, starting in a soft, broken sound that grew louder, more manic until it was a full-throated, deranged cackle.

Marriage? 

Right.

“Going somewhere?” 

“Lord Elio?”

“Indeed. This is your first time seeing me in this form. And I assure you, this won't be the last.”

“Next time you come back, we'll have a giant feast for your return. No pomegranates. It's a feast that may just be more memorable than your previous birthday celebrations. Truth is, once our prodigal King returns, she shall become a Stellaron Hunter.”

Elio promised you a feast.

Who are you to say no?

You gave him a mugshot smile only a criminal with an enormous bounty would wear.

You were no longer King (Y/n) of Daidalos.

“Is that so?” You grinned wider.

You were (Y/n), the prodigal Stellaron Hunter.

If he haunted your dreams for so long,

you’ll just have to haunt him back.

You harshly grabbed him by his necklace, your breath fanning his face. A giggle escaped your lips at his shocked expression. You swerved and pushed him until your positions switched. With one hand, you clawed both his cheeks, staring at him with an empty glare while the other hand slowly uncloaked him...

"If that is the challenge you present, then I bid you bring forth your utmost strength, dear Husband."

Taglist: @naraven, @macaronilovingracoon, @notthefib987, @chryseis-lxve

Actor!au behind the scenes for this fic: Blooper 1, Interview with Sunday,

[himasgod]

Morax x Reader

Where your soulmark will unite you to him forever and ever, but you cannot be with him.

Where Guizhong, in her infatuation with Morax, casts a spell on him to make him forget his soulmark that binds you, an adepti, to him, and he falls in love with Guizhong. Years later, when Guizhong dies, Morax takes importance to you and tries to get back to you, but you, hurt, reject him and forget him. Many centuries later, Xiao, Traveler and Paimon have a single mission during the Moonchase Festival: to reunite you and Zhongli after so long.

(chat, did I cook? Seriously, this might be my favorite thing I've ever written on Tumblr. Around 900 words, give it a chance, I promise it'll be worth it :P)

In Teyvat, Soulmate Marks were more than just marks on the skin; they were a shared destiny, a divine promise that no matter the adversities, two souls were destined to meet and complete each other. To mortals, it was a comfort. To gods, it was a reminder that even they were bound by the universal laws of love.

Guizhong, the Goddess of Dust, had always been a visionary. Her intelligence and charisma had cemented Guili Assembly as a haven of prosperity and harmony. But deep within her heart was a desperate longing: to win the heart of the Geo Archon, Morax. Ever since she met him, she had been convinced that her place was at his side, not just as an ally, but as his eternal companion.

When her soulmate mark appeared, Guizhong held her breath in hope.

But her mark showed no clue that connected her to Morax.

Rather than accept this fate, her ambition and fear of rejection led her to commit an act that would change the course of both their lives: with a spell of illusions, she altered her mark to match his.

“Love is selfish… and it must be. For the sake of the Guili Assembly, for the sake of our vision, he must be mine,” she told herself every time the weight of guilt threatened to crush her.

Meanwhile, Morax’s true destiny was entangled with another adepti: you. You were a noble soul, whose mark reflected a deep connection to the land itself. Though Morax had never paid much attention to his own mark, the relationship between the two of you had been one of mutual respect. You, dedicated to the creation of medicines and the healing of Yakshas tormented by their karmic debt, had shared meaningful moments with Morax. Yet there had never been a declaration of love between you.

Morax's heart always seemed to be occupied by Guizhong.

You, though wounded, had accepted your silent role. If Morax found happiness with Guizhong, then that was a sacrifice you were willing to make.

Guizhong's death was a devastating blow to the Guili Assembly and, apparently, to Morax. For years, the Geo Archon mourned her loss, immortalizing her memory in the ruins of Guili. But deception cannot remain hidden forever. As time passed, the spell that had altered Moraxs mark dissipated, revealing its true form.

When Morax discovered the truth, an unfathomable rage took hold of him. Not only had he been betrayed, but he had also allowed his true soulmate to suffer in silence while he protected Guizhong's lie. In a fit of grief and disappointment, he erased from his memory any vestige of love he had felt for the Goddess of Dust.

But the truth came at a price: how to face you after so many years of indifference?

You had found solace in your work. Alongside the Herblord, you had dedicated your life to creating remedies to ease the burden of the Yakshas and other Adepti. You had left behind any hope of a relationship with Morax. For him, there was no room in his heart for false gestures or empty words.

When Morax finally found you, he was greeted with a coldness he had never expected.

“What do you wish, Morax?” you asked, not looking up from the herbs you were grinding.

“I have come to apologize. To seek… redemption,” he replied, his voice laden with a sincerity he rarely showed.

“Redemption does not change the past. And your words will not erase the years of silence. Go find solace in Guizhong’s memories… or in your own decisions.—"

The conversation ended as quickly as it had begun, leaving Morax with a weight he hadn’t felt in millennia.

The Moonchase Festival filled Liyue with vibrant energy. The streets were adorned with floating lanterns, tables laden with traditional food, and the laughter of children echoed in the air. It was a celebration of togetherness, of remembering the past and looking toward the future. Among the attendees, the Traveler and Paimon moved with determination, knowing that the success of their plan depended on their discretion.

They had to bring you and Zhongli together after so many years again, and today was the perfect opportunity.

Xiao, who rarely participated in festivities, stood at the edge of the crowd, watchful. He had reluctantly agreed to help, aware of how much it meant to him to see Zhongli and you reconcile. Though his face remained impassive, the Yaksha couldn’t help but feel a certain hope. He had lost so much over the years; perhaps it was time to recover something.

The Traveler was in charge of taking Zhongli to the designated place: a secluded viewing point at the port, from where one could observe the spectacle of the lanterns ascending- so romantic.

Xiao, meanwhile, was accompanying you, who had accepted the invitation to the festival at the Herbalist's insistence, unaware that it was all part of an elaborate plan.

When the two reached the viewing platform, the atmosphere instantly became tense. You, recognizing Zhongli, stopped in your tracks and pressed your lips together. The ancient Geo Archon, for his part, showed a mix of surprise and something that seemed vulnerable, an emotion rare in someone like him.

"I… didn't know you'd be here," you murmured, your tone bordering on indifference.

"It was my initiative," the Traveler quickly intervened, trying to ease the tension. "I thought it would be good for both of you to enjoy the festival from a quiet place."

"Calm down?" you raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but I don't think it's wise."

Before you could leave, Zhongli spoke:

"Please stay."

The tone of his voice, deep and solemn, managed to stop you. There was something in it, a sincerity that you hadn’t expected.

For long minutes, you both remained silent, watching the lanterns light up the sky. Finally, Zhongli spoke up:

“A long time ago, I was blinded by my own decisions. I allowed my judgment to be clouded by loyalty and duty, and in that process, I hurt those who mattered most. You. And my mark is binding me to you, it burns every time I think of you, and it has all these years. I know it burns you too. Guizhong moved me with her manipulative fingers, but now that she passed away so many years ago that I can't even count them… the truth of her lies has come to light. And I feel stupid…”

You didn’t respond immediately. Instead, you turned to look directly at him, your eyes reflecting years of repressed pain.

“And what do you expect me to say? To forgive you after everything?”

Your tone was cold, but there was a tremor in your voice that betrayed the internal storm you were struggling to control. “After how you ignored everything I did for you, while defending someone who wasn’t even your soulmate?”

Zhongli looked down, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"I don't expect your forgiveness. I only hope that you'll allow me to prove that I've changed. That you'll understand how sorry I am for my blindness."

You let out a bitter laugh.

"You changed? Perhaps. But I changed too, Morax. Or I mean, Zhongli, I guess. Centuries don't pass in vain, and the wounds you left behind didn't heal easily. I'm not the same person who used to wait for you with hope. I'm now someone who learned to live without you, with this mark, but without you."

The silence that followed was heavy, but not hopeless. Zhongli, with his infinite patience, nodded slowly.

"I know. I can't pretend to erase the past or what I did. But I want you to know that I will never stop trying to make up for my mistakes. If you ever decide to give me a chance, I'll be here, waiting."

You looked at him for a long moment. There was something different about him; he was no longer the arrogant god who made unilateral decisions. There was humility in his words, a humanity you hadn't seen before.

“I make no promises, Zhongli,” you finally replied, your voice softer.

“But perhaps one day… we can try.”

Zhongli looked up, and for the first time in centuries, a small spark of hope lit up his eyes.

That night, though you were not completely reconciled, something changed between you. As the Moonchase Festival continued in the distance, Zhongli and you remained at the gazebo, sharing a quieter conversation. There were no promises, only a tacit understanding that time, though cruel, could also offer second chances.

From afar, Xiao, Traveler and Paimon watched the scene, Xiao's heart lightened.

Though he knew the road would be long, at least there was a start now.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[n0cturn4]

Character: Adult!Damian Wayne x Reader Summary: “I offer you my heart,” he murmured, his voice now an intimate whisper. “And the freedom to do with it as you will.” Word Count: 1185 Music: Habibi

It was a night of scorching heat in the infinite desert, where the sky, dotted with stars, reflected the glow of a fate written long before the birth of kingdoms. In the palace of Al-Nadir, grand and carved in marble and gold, Prince Damian Wayne, now a grown man, wandered silently through its vast corridors. His firm steps echoed like a whisper of responsibility and power. Damian, the prince who carried the weight of two legacies within him, had always been an enigma, a man made of shadows and steel. But that night, something beyond the throne unsettled him. He felt an emptiness, an absence that neither gold nor glory could fill.

The festival of Al-Nadir pulsed like a living heart in the city below, where the people celebrated, and the arts flourished under the desert heat. On that special night, dancers from all corners came to showcase their talents, but there was one in particular, a presence that stood out among all, like a rare flower in the sands of destiny.

And then he saw her.

You, a dancer whose movements seemed to defy the very stars. Your feet glided across the stage like a gentle breeze over the dunes, and your eyes, burning and mysterious, revealed stories that words could never contain. Your body, adorned with veils and jewels that shimmered in the torchlight, moved with a grace that did not belong to this world. Every gesture, every curve of your body was silent poetry, a promise of freedom and power.

Damian, a man accustomed to hiding his emotions, felt his heart waver. The serenity he always carried like armor shattered before your dance. He, a prince of steel, was captivated by a flame he did not understand but could not ignore.

When the music ceased and the applause echoed, Damian knew he had to meet you. He ordered to be taken to you, not with the arrogance of a prince, but with the curiosity of a man before a mystery he longed to unravel. In the palace’s private gardens, beneath the shadows of exotic trees, he waited. The sound of water running through the fountains was the only noise besides his own heartbeat.

You arrived, your eyes raised, firm and fearless, as enigmatic as your dance. There was no fear in your posture, only calm curiosity, as if you knew this encounter was inevitable.

“You called for me, Your Highness?” your voice was a thread of silk, as soft as the night breeze.

Damian tilted his head, his green eyes analyzing you as if he could read your soul through every subtle movement.

“There is something in your dance,” he said, his voice deep and controlled, “something that goes beyond art. There’s a story behind every one of your movements. A battle... a freedom.”

Your lips curved into a slight smile, something enigmatic, like a moon partially veiled by clouds. You observed him with the same care, surprised by his insight.

“Every gesture I make carries the weight of my own story,” you replied. “Dancing is the only freedom I truly have.”

Damian stepped closer, his words like veiled promises in the warm night air. “What if I could offer you more than just that fleeting freedom? What if I could give you something greater?”

You raised an eyebrow, your eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What exactly would you offer me, Your Highness?”

He did not hesitate, his words were precise, like the arrows he so skillfully wielded. “A choice. Stay by my side. Not as a prisoner of my will, but as an equal. Someone who challenges my spirit and shares the burden of power with me. I see in you what few would—strength that deserves to be honored, not tamed.”

The night seemed suspended between you, the wind carrying only the echoes of something forming, something neither of you had anticipated.

“And if I accept this offer,” you asked, your tone low but filled with meaning, “what do I get in return, besides power and your wealth?”

Damian took another step closer, until his eyes, intense as the desert itself, penetrated yours.

“I offer you my heart,” he murmured, his voice now an intimate whisper. “And the freedom to do with it as you will.”

You stepped forward, reducing the distance that still remained between you. Your eyes, deep and mysterious, met his with firmness. It was like looking into a distorted mirror—you, the free dancer, and he, the chained prince. Two worlds so different, yet drawn to each other as if the universe had conspired for this moment.

“And what would you do, Prince,” you began, your voice flowing like a soft melody, “if I took your heart and turned it into my own dance? If I made it part of who I am?”

Damian smiled, a rare smile, almost imperceptible, carrying both melancholy and hope. There was something vulnerable in his stance, a man who had always been a fortress now lowering his defenses before a stranger, yet still, a soul he seemed to have known forever.

“Then,” he replied, with a soft gleam in his eyes, “I would become part of your freedom. Because in the end, there is no greater power than being in the hands of someone you trust.”

For a moment, the world around you seemed to stop. The sounds of the festival in the distance, the murmuring fountains, even the soft breeze among the leaves, all silenced in the intensity of that moment. The moon poured its silver light over the garden, as if the heavens were watching and approving of what was unfolding.

You stepped even closer, until you were so near that you could feel the heat emanating from his body, his presence strong and solid. Your fingers, delicate and skilled like in your dance, gently touched Damian's chest, right over where his heart beat. The touch was light, almost like a breeze, but the connection that formed was deep, instantaneous.

“Your freedom and mine are like two stars dancing in the sky, Prince,” you said softly. “I accept what you offer, but know that I will not be a silent companion. My soul is not meant to be contained.”

Damian breathed deeply, as if your words had the power to ignite something deep within him. His eyes never left yours for a moment.

“That is exactly why I chose you,” he murmured, his voice dense, full of promise. “I don’t want someone who bows, but someone who walks beside me. I want someone who challenges me, who makes me question the world as it is.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying him, as if deciphering the final secret hidden in his soul.

“Then, Prince Damian,” you said, a light smile on your lips, “we will dance together.”

And so, under the stars that silently watched, the bond between you was formed. The Prince of Al-Nadir, with his heart in the hands of a dancer, and you, with the promise of a love that could not be contained by borders or duties. The night, a silent witness, became the stage for the first act of a story that would defy fate and time.

And in that dance of souls and hearts entwined, Damian Wayne's world began to change, one step at a time.

[natalievoncatte]

“Today?” Kara said, “really?”

There was a silence in the house, as a pall had fallen over it. Everyone was gathered for the festivities and the turkey in the oven was filling the house with a delightful scent that made Lena’s mouth water. Thanksgiving was supposed to be the one day that Lena could forget about her waistline and just indulge herself. She’d been “helping” Eliza along with Alex and Kelly and Nia while the boys and Kara were out back tossing a football and pretending that she and J’onn didn’t have an outrageous advantage over Brainy and James.

Now Kara was standing in the living room as the news broke in over the football game and announced that a rampaging alien was tearing apart Rio de Janiero.

“Guys,” Kara said solemnly, “I have to go.”

Lena’s heart sank. She knew better than to protest. Kara had already glumly removed her glasses and was about to go grab her suit. Lena reached out and curled a hand around her bicep.

“Please be careful, darling.”

Lena could feel eyes on her back, Eliza and Alex and Nia all watching, silently urging one of them to just finally make a damned move. Lena *lived with her*, for God’s sake, and had since she sold her penthouse. They shared breakfasts and Kara gave her foot rubs and still they were stuck in this maddening limbo without defining what and who they were and it seemed neither dared to ask.

Lena knew what she wanted the answer to be, and how it ached inside her.

Kara glumly trudged down the stairs in full Supergirl regalia, regal and imposing as ever and just as beautiful. Since she’d revealed her identity to the world she’d been freed from the constraints of having to disguise herself, and a few months ago had buzzed the left side of her head, having trimmed the rest to shoulder length, and Lena longed to run her fingers over the fuzz.

She’d also altered her suit again. It no longer had sleeves. Every time Lena saw her, it felt like her soul was going to escape her body.

Kara came over and put her hands on Lena’s arms.

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

Lena gulped down her anxiety.

“I can hear your heart, you know.”

“Just be careful. Please.”

Kara started to turn. Maybe it was the audience, maybe she was just tired of being mired in this thick tension between them. Maybe it was the wine. She grabbed Kara’s arm again and sprang forward to brush her lips against Kara’s cheek, dangerously close to Kara’s mouth.

“For luck.”

Kara’s eyes flew open wide and she gaped at Lena.

“I’ll be b-back,” she said, and swept out the door, cape billowing majestically.

God how Lena hated that cape, sometimes. It blocked the view.

What had been a festive gathering grew quiet. Everyone gathered around the television to see what was going on, save Eliza who politely excused herself to the kitchen, hiding tears that everyone politely ignored.

Lena joined her. She was making the gravy.

“A life of fighting isn’t what I wanted for her,” she said.

“Me either.”

They were alone in the kitchen and Eliza was whisking a roux as she waited for the raw flour smell to cook off.

“Lena, do you have feelings for my daughter?”

Lena swallowed hard, grabbing a knife to chop carrots for glazing so that she’d have something to occupy your hands.

Eliza’s voice was soft, something wistful in her eyes. “You must know how she feels about you.”

Lena had to stop to avoid slicing open her finger, almost feeling the touch of the blade. She cleared her throat.

“I do,” she admitted. “I very much do. If I’m going to be honest with myself, I’ve been in love with her for years.”

Eliza nodded, utterly unsurprised. “Kara is very hesitant about delicate things. When she first started living with us, she used to rip doorknobs off and break things at random while she learned to control her powers. She’s probably told you about Streaky.”

“She has.”

Eliza began pouring stock into the pot, her whisk making soft scraping sounds.

“She’s still that way about everything. Afraid if she pushes too hard, she’ll break something.”

Lena nodded. It was at that moment that Alex stormed into the kitchen. “She’s back.”

Immediately, Lena rushed out into the living room. Kara trudged through the door, and sighed.

“He got a few good hits in but he’s contained.”

Lena could only stare. Her suit was covered in scorch marks and even worse, Kara was bruised, her knuckles especially battered. She smiled weakly.

“I just need a minute to clean up.”

With a deep sigh, Kara turned and headed upstairs.

Lena could feel the eyes on her before she glanced back. Eliza motioned a silent “Go”, and Lena went.

She knocked at the bathroom door.

“Lena?” said Kara.

She always knew. Super-senses.

“It’s me. Can I come in?”

Brief hesitation, then, “yes.”

Lena stepped inside and closed the door. Kara was washing her hands, the injuries already vanishing. Lena didn’t care. She took Kara’s hands anyway, gently washing them under warm water.

She then fumbled at the clasps and unhooked Kara’s cape, and folded it. It was surprisingly heavy, made of a dense material from her long lost home. Setting it aside, she rested her hand against Kara’s deliciously broad back, silently waiting for permission.

“Go ahead,” Kara said in a shaky voice.

Lena freed the tab of the hidden zipper and pulled, baring Kara’s expansive muscular back, and peeled the suit away from her shoulders. Kara had nothing but a sports bra and boxer briefs on beneath. She finished shimmying out of the suit on her own.

Lena has seen Kara in bathing suits, or caught flashes of her changing, but this was different, somehow more intimate. There was a vulnerability, not just in the woman disrobing but in the goddess showing Lena her bruises. Lena gently touched a black and purple mark on Kara’s flank.

“This one hurt, didn’t it.”

“It always hurts. I can feel it, I just pretend I don’t.”

Lena looked up at her and met her gaze.

“Kara, may I kiss you?”

Kara blinked and Lena could actually feel her tremble.

“Yes,” she breathed.

Lena rose on her tiptoes and pressed their lips together very softly, with a deliberate slowness. When Kara kissed her back and pulled her into a delicate embrace, hands bracketed low on her hips, Lena felt like she could fly.

Kara was looking at her in wonder.

“Was that for more luck?”

Lena felt bold. She had seize the moment now, before she lost her nerve and they fell back into tense limbo.

“Kara Danvers, if you want to, you can get very lucky tonight.”

Her eyes were wide and Lena grinned.

“I umm, I…”

Lena trailed a finger down the center of Kara’s muscular chest.

“Dinner is almost ready, darling. Take your shower. Just remember to save room for dessert.”

Kara favored her with a delighted smile as Lena stepped out of the bathroom and padded down the stairs.

When she reached the ground floor, everyone was pointedly focused elsewhere, either on the football game or cooking, and Kelly and Nia were playing cards at the dining room table.

Alexa, though, handed her a beer. Lena took it with a shaking hand.

“Fucking finally,” Alex whispered. “Just don’t get too loud tonight, okay? Go down to the beach if you can’t control yourself.”

Lena’s eyes narrowed.

“I hate you.”

“Love ya too, sis-in-law,” said Alex.

“We’re not married yet.”

Alex tipped back her brew. “Six months, tops.”

Lena took a long pull on her beer and scowled.

(It ended up being four months)

[berriblossom]

Oh, Great Divine!

☆| It's time for a SAGAU, more so a comforting one. Reader's gender is ambiguous and gender neutral, archons adore reader, in this sense the Nahida tag is platonic!|

☆ Tags/warnings! | Socially Aware Genshin AU, archons and people of Teyvat treat the reader as a god or heavenly figure, religious references (cathedral of Mondstat and Narukami/ Sangonomiya Shrines of Inazuma) some minor lore for reader, Reader is referred to as "Their Grace" or "My/Your Grace" and "The Great Divine" ALL PORTRAYALS ARE FICTIONAL!! anyway, enjoy.|

Within the lands or nations of Teyvat, for centuries the practice of worshipping an Archon was beyond common, more so for those who wish not to believe in spiritual practices concerning the gods of each element are more on the rare side to find. However even if such existed, there was one thing to never be doubted within the lands of Teyvat.

The Great Divine's presence over mortals and immortals alike.

The creation of Teyvat in many national mythos credits the sole ideas and creation to the Great Divine. Even the archons and the sources of their celestial names were blessed upon them by their divine grace. Depending on which nation you visit, some may say that their archon is specifically blessed by their grace.

In Mondstat, the nation of wind, song, freedom, wine, and bard's ballads, once every 100 years they celebrate the freedom blessed to them by Barbatos and the Great Divine. A tradition stretching for the last millennial to show the love and deeply routed affection given by its people and archon. Yes, Barbatos, or now the "drunken" bard known as Venti among his people. Every festival of a "New Eve" as they call it, is another 100 years for him to show his affection for his beloved divine. Despite his defiance to Celestia and the natural order placed after your departure, he still fully believes in your care and love for humans and archons alike. To Venti, whispering to the wind like he did with you thousands of years prior, even in his wind-spirit form. You'd sit together where now the great tree at Windrise and speak about the future of Teyvat, something despite having the authority over you simply spoke to him as:

"For what will come, Your nation will prosper and learn the true meaning of freedom and song..."

So to this day, he sits under that tree and thinks of the years since, missing your warmth from curling up in your hands as a wind spirit to laughing and humming beside you in his divine form. He has seen it for the last few hundred years, the art, songs, plays, books, and even food and weapons made in your name, and every hundred years he repeats the same. A small prayer from his soul is whispered into the wind as he tells his deep care and love for his dear grace. And the people of Mondstat no different, all gather at the great Cathedral and warmly sing about the Great Divine and Lord Barbatos as they place to wine, food, and gifts at the altar of your image. When alone Venti will sneak in and sit under your statue, missing the warmth of your hands but relishing the love in your image.

In Liyue, the nation of Geo, contracts, and the adepti, the greats divines are influenced by the first contract Rex Lapis made with them over 7000 years ago, even before Liyue was a fully combined nation. Zhongli remembers the conversation you two had, sharing a simple game of wit and tea. Then he was immature to your influence and power but now he relishes in it. Proudly in his vast historical knowledge, preaching his love and the power the great divine holds. How you could shape the sea with a flick of your wrist, how you've created mountains from your fingertips, how your vast knowledge is spread throughout teyvat as a bible to be studied and read over and over again. But mostly what he and all of Liyue celebrate is the contractable care and affection you give him and the people of Liyue.

This time around Liyue is a time spent every hundred of years a new eve of dawn as it is called, one Zhongli and his fellow adepti never get tired of. A time to give gifts of care to neighbors, friends, and even coworkers in the busy harbor. Even the Northland Bank celebrates by lowering interest on loans!

(But only for this amount of time and by the next New Eve of Dawn the Interest WILL reset)

But mainly it is a way to give worship to the Great Divine and their trust in Rex Lapis and his Adepti to protect and serve Liyue. Everything Zhongli has done was for your gratitude and divine love. So when a New Eve comes, he sits anywhere in Liyue, the mountains, hills, somewhere to overlook the harbor, and enjoys a warm cup of tea. Your favorite while imagining your smile as you talk, the games you'd two play. He watches his disciples and Apeti celebrate with gifts, food, and songs at your altar set around Liyue. He sips his tea and awaits your fated return, happy to share more memories and stories with you.

Within the land of Eternity, formerly transcience, Inazuma's style of celebration differs slightly from some nations. The Grand Narukami Shrine would hold a private ceremony, cleansing the sacred Sakura tree and your statue underneath, barhing the precious stone engravings with crisp clean water. Meanwhile the people if Inazuma would be celebrating on their own occasions, firewroks light into the clear sky, dancing ceremonies at the teahouse fill with guest.

However, the new electro archon herself sits alone at the top of Tebshukaku. Quietly walking down memeory lane in her mind. For the last five centuries of the New Eve of Dawn celebration, she'd sit in her space of Euthymia alone in solitude quietly sulking at the idea of your everlasting figure. How her and Makoto would chat down the lane of inazuma speaking about plans of you, speaking of your visions of the nation of electro, Makoto laughing at how embarrassed Ei used to be around you and your divinity. Now Ei smiles solemnly..

She knows now that she as archon must take the mantle, for in your teachings that it the goal of the heavenly principles you've left. Fated to return, she prays that you'd come to her first. She dreams and imagines in her meditations within her quiet Euthymia that you'd hold her. That her loneliness would be cured indefinitely. But for now she waits, with a plate of dango and some ofdly colored tea, shit eats alone as the fireworks set off atop Narukami island, she whispers a promise to herself and her nation on your honor.

"For it will be fate...my grace...you shall return to us...to eternity...we shall be reunited."

Far off in the lands of eternity, however, the island that formed the resistance sings and dances around the bonfire, the resistance army of Sangonomiya and Watatsumi laugh as they praise the late OmiKami, or the serpent god Orobashi. The fire dances as troops tell stories, shrine maidens sing and laugh, and her priestess sits while holding a book. She smiles softly. Kokomi looks above at the horizon and sees the corpse of their late god, she wishes silently to herself and for her ancestors to below the sea. That once the great spirit of life and forefather of the vishaps would return to bring life to the benevolent serpent. But for now, she sits alongside Gorou as they watch the troops enjoy the holiday.

Within Sumeru, however, and alongside it, Fontaine...the New Eve of Dawn has been on the academic calendar differently, which is how some older nations react. For those in the rainforest, it is a blessing of Lessor Lords Kusanali's birth. For the dessert, it is the bringing of a new promise for the scarlet sand kings doubted return. Within the nation of dendro, it is a holiday of now academic activities, no scholars shrouded in work, but a day off. The people worship by their own will and sit in taverns, bars, and cafes to drink mereily while chatting with friends. Some visit your altar within the Akademiya, and others pray at home.

Nahida sits on a branch of the great tree that houses the knowledge many wish to obtain, in her hands an ancient seed of fate, she herself has no memory or knowledge of where it came but holds ot and teasures its existence. For she has a kindling that it is tied to this divine spirit that is expected to awaken. From her small conversation with Apep, the seed is treasured. Hence, she holds it and feeds the growing plant bits of dendro elemental energy. She sighs as she watches the sun set and the cheers from the streets and grand bazars performances. Nilou must be dancing now, she thinks. She hums a small song while kicking her feet, her hands warm with caution. She may not know you yet, but she knows already... Your spirit and divine will watch for her and her nation. The goddess of wisdom has many questions for the great creator of this world, but for now, she just hums and sits happily, a great birthday gift indeed.

Meanwhile, in Fontaine, similarly, it is deemed a weekend off of work. Many go home, some go to the Opera to catch performances of the holiday, others read tabloids of the steambird that some random person in the court has the great divine in their basment all along. All fiction truthfully. Furina reads her book as she makes another plate of pasta macaroni. For the occasion, she bought extra special ragau to taste amazing. She dances around her kitchen listening to soft music. For years her mind would have doubted and even hated this day, anxious fears of disappointment and disapproval looks from her days as stabding archon. Would you have hated her? Did you think she failed fontaine and you? Was her a cursed human taking title of archon an insult to you? Furina had nightmares even of the prohecy and your return to see fontaine gone and underwater. But now, as the prophecy and fontaine were safe and out of fear, she ate and asked a good question this new century.

"What kind of pasta would their grace like..."

Soft rainfall drops onto the steps of the Palais Mermonia, the evening rain was forcasfed but welcomed, Neuvillette wrote on the papers softly, agreeing to a few celebratory events the Opera wanted to hold. Usually Lady Furina would be jumping for the task but here he was. Dread builded in his soul. This time of year brought many pains to Neuvillette.

A new century meant a new set of hundreds of years he gets to oulive humans, melusines maybe, but also the clock inches closer and closer to your return. Neuvillette spent early years of his lofe researching and discovering his species and kind for decades. Figuring that if you are the forefather and creator of vishaps and the sovereignty. Why was so many things done the way they were? Why ddi the power the gnosis and archons hold come from them? Why can't he understand your implications, even such his ancestors didn't wish to think against? What power do you hold and how did aid Fontaine in the end? He knew Focalor and Egeria spoke to you, even asking for forgiveness before your departure, so why? Neuvillette, places his pen downs and stands to look out the window of his office to look down at the streets of the Court of Fontaine, a glass of crisp water swirls in his hand. He sips slowly and sighs, coming to think.

"In this new century...please with it, may you come along too my grace."

In the nation of fire, victory, war and passion, raors could be heard from the stadium of flames as people of different tribes shouted and cheered the competitions down below. Surfing races, climbing achievements, conbat bouts, even break dancing competitions held. Mavuika sits at her throne above as her people cheer and celebrate, raising glasses, foods, gifts, and money even in your image. She slips away from the fesitivites to be alone in the speakers chambers, past the sacred flame, and into her personal get-away. Now empty, she stares at the famous wheel of the sun, Natlan has held for centuries, the same you blessed the first pyro archon with, as their rules of ruilibg were left in your favor. She smiles as she too holds her head high, similar to her ancestors before her.

She remebers before she was even archon, how her parents would tell stories of the Great divines influence, love, and power. That the spirit of victory belongs to the pyro archon yes, but the strength was given by you as well. She remembered your fave engraved in ancients temples and stones around Natlan and now some statues around the lands too. She knows too well her nation is blessed by your, not only for the peoples cheers and vitcories but the long-lasting stay they've had against the threat of the abyss thus far. Maybe when you return and ward off the abyssal threats for good, she top could ask something of you...for that she won't know until she sees you herself.

"Until we meet my grace...may your memeory burn eternal.. and your power live within my people."

-> Did i go overboard, yes...but eh...hoped you enjoy, and also i may make a small series out of this..who knows..

[beautifulsenpai]

YOU REALLY GOT MY SOUL

muzan kibutsuji x male reader

summary. 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋. 𝗆𝗎𝗓𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗅𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝗈𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗅𝗎𝗑𝗎𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗑

senpai’s note. 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝖿𝗂𝖼, 𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇? 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗏𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗒, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗎𝗉, 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒!

𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌/𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗌

valentines day is an annual festival when lovers express their affection with greetings and gifts. muzan did not hold back this year, he gave (name) the best valentines day experience ever.

taking (name) to a classy restaurant, buying him luxury gifts, etc. who would’ve thought that the demon lord could be a romantic lover, especially to a human male? (name) has no clue that muzan is the most feared demon lord that killed multiple thousands, and he likes it to stay that way.

he’ll eventually tell him at the right time, but not at this moment, the moment to show deep affection to one another. muzan loved the human boy very much, and he didn’t know how to express it even more. so..

──★ ˙🍓 ̟ !!

"mmhn..hnngh..mu-muzan!!~", (name) whimpered onto the pillow he buried his face in. he couldn’t let muzan see how flushed he was, and tears threatening to spill from his eyes, it was too embarrassing. (name) was stripped away from his clothes while muzan only had his undergarments.

(name) ass was up in the air as muzan was eating his ass like it was going to be the last time he was going to see it. muzan had (name’s) ass separated to see his main target and was licking his pink puckered hole, and evading his insides with his painfully long tongue.

muzan was doing it so well that it left (name) whimpering sweetly, and left (name’s) pink hole and muzan’s chin coated with spit. muzan’s tongue entered (name’s) hole once again, making (name’s) eyes squinting with a few tears about to spill.

muzan’s tongue was hitting the right places inside of (name). it even sometimes reached where his prostate was located, making (name) release adorable moans. (name) felt his orgasm slowly approaching, his cock spurting pre-cum onto the bed sheets.

he tried to warn muzan by trying to separate his ass away from muzan’s tongue, but muzan didn’t let that happen. his hands snaked from (name’s) rear to his wide hips and then clutched onto (name’s) hips, forcing him to stay in place.

(name’s) eyes widened as he lifted his face off the pillow, mouth agape as he released sweet cries of overwhelming bliss. (name’s) legs squirmed, desperately trying to release himself from muzan’s grasp, but muzan wouldn't budge. instead, he got rougher, licking his insides more furiously.

"muzan!~ h-honey, pl- o-oh!~..please! n-no more!~ mmhhh! g-gonna..", (name) didn’t even finish what he was going to say before whining loudly as he reached his breaking point. (name’s) squirming halted as his cock released ropes of cum onto the bed sheets.

as one last drop of cum spurted out of (name’s) cock, his face fell onto the pillow, his breathing was shaky and weak, sniffing away his tears as he shut his eyes. muzan finally pulled away, proud of the work he did. as he stood on his knees, he smirked in delight as he stared down at (name), rubbing the spit away from his chin with his arm.

the view of (name) was to die for. his whole body flushed, his head was turned to the side to see half of his face, eyes teary, brows scrunched and lips were pulled back and body shook from the organism. the beautiful view of (name) made a noticeable bulge from his undergarments.

muzan leaned down onto (name’s) body, his hands roaming (name’s) chest, twisting and rubbing his nipples, and kissing his back tenderly. (name’s) gripped onto the bedsheets, whimpering softly as he got hard again. "you’re so fucking hot my dear, you’re so beautiful, so fucking beautiful." muzan murmured against (name’s) back between kisses.

(name) replied with a whimper. muzan pulled down his undergarment, enough for his big throbbing cock to be out. muzan kissed, and licked (name’s) earlobe as he rubbed his cock against (name’s) slicked rim, pre-cum spilling onto (name’s) back. "mu-muzan, put it in me already!~ i can’t w-wait anymore!".

say less. muzan guided the tip of his cock to (name’s) tight rim, and then plunge his cock inside of (name’s) in a fast manner. (name’s) eyes widened as they both moaned. (name’s) walls snuggled tightly against muzan’s pulsating cock, making muzan let out a curse.

muzan’s teeth gritted as he stood straight on his knees. he placed one hand on (name’s) rear, and the other was placed on (name’s) shoulder. muzan didn’t wait for (name’s) approval to start moving so he started thrusting into (name’s) hole fast. (name) moan open wide as he let out a high-pitched moan after another.

(name’s) ass rippled into waved from muzan’s hips meeting his rear, balls hitting against (name’s) ass cheeks. drool escaped from (name’s) mouth from the pleasure of muzan’s big demon cock hitting his prostate. "f-fuck! o-oh!~ feels.. s-so good! your cock feels so- ah!~ so good inside me!".

(name) screamed as his head tilted back, and eyes closed as muzan kept assaulting (name’s) insides. muzan’s eyes shut tightly from (name’s) walls snuggling warmly onto his cock. muzan’s breath hitched as he felt his organism approaching, he was pent up just from eating out (name) and hearing his delightful moans.

muzan slapped (name’s) ass cheek, making (name) jolt up, his tongue lolled out as tears finally spilled from his eyes. muzan grunted as he caressed the reddened ass cheek as his thrusting became a bit sloppy, signaling that he was so close to his release.

his thrusting quickened as his hands gripped harshly onto (name’s) shoulder blade and his rear, being careful to not release his sharp demon-like nails. (name) smiled lustfully as sweat dripped from his face.

"god, you feel amazing (name). i-i..love you so much. love you so damn much that i’ll murder anyone for you!~ g-going to cum, take it all like a good boy that you are.~"

[hee0soo]

Coachella, Baby!

Pairing — Song Mingi x afab!Reader

Summary — Not quite sober and having enjoyed the set you were most waiting for, you and your friend enjoyed the rest of your weekend in the desert. Not knowing what else it held ready for you...

Genre — smut, fluff if you squint

Warnings — fingering, penetrative sex , alcohol, stay safe kids and use condoms!

Word Count — 2.5k

Rating — NSFW

A/N — I don't know why i always think i can do smut but here you go! Also i'm a about 8 months late with this so oopsiee :))

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

When your friend had surprised you with tickets for this years coachella to see one of your favorite groups perform, you weren't sure if you wanted to kiss her or smack her for spending so much money!

But now, standing a little to the side with a clear view of Ateez performing on the stage underneath the Sahara tent, you were sure your soul had left your body and had descended to heaven right then and there!

The bass was loud, filling your ears pleasantly, the vibration of the music playing and making the locals dance and bang their heads enthusiastically while Atinys were screaming their lungs out to make the group on stage hear their own fanchat with pride. You were glad that you could experience this milestone alongside those boys while they gave their all during the powerful set list they had chosen for the night.

And the visuals were a dream in and for itself! Unmatched even!

From the captains sudden change to cherry red hair, San's abs flaunted right in your face, Seonghwa's very low cut shirt to Mingi's almost white hair and chest tattoo, you were impressed that your legs were still working when the set was finally over and it was already late at night when you and your friend came back to the hotel.

The plan for the next day was simple. You hadn’t planned any specifics with her, instead opting to just go wherever you liked for the next 2 days and when you saw videos of the members enjoying their time watching other artists you didn’t think much of it. Happy that they enjoyed their stay, you weren’t planning to seek out any of them. You wanted to give them the privacy they deserved and not burden them with questions or attention.

With that in mind, you and your best friend, kept walking from stage to stage until it became dark again and while you watched over the other girl as she downed one shot after the other, you stayed sober enough to be clear minded. At least enough to realize that you had managed to trip over you own two feet and land in the arms of a complete stranger.

Hastily you freed yourself from the gentle hands holding onto your upper arms, apologizing profusely.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Are you oka-?" you froze in your tracks the moment your not entirely sober brain caught up with the moment. Words that before had come out of your mouth like a waterfall, cut of and you were stunned to silence the second you realized that the person that caught you was not just a random stranger visiting the festival.

Dark brown eyes that somewhat reminded you of molten chocolate stared into your e/c ones and a devilishly handsome yet friendly grin made your heart skip a beat! His white hair looked wild and disheveled; standing into every direction while barely being tamed by the pair of sun glasses atop his head!

The carefree aura surrounding him had you relaxing instantly.

For a moment you just stood there, buffering while you tried to understand what was happening.

"I, uhm, okay?" the deep drawl of his voice went straight to your lower regions, lighting a fire you didn't know had been burning.

Quickly switching gear at the obvious, although adorable, struggle at communication in English, your next words made his face brighten even further if possible. The familiar sound of his own language causing his nose to scrunch up cutely and for once in your life you thanked the seemingly endless nights of studying for giving you the ability to understand and speak at least some Korean!

"I'm sorry Mingi-ssi, I really wasn't trying to bother you!" you explained with a rushed bow of your head.

The tall rapper waved you off. "No, I'm glad I caught you! Can't let a pretty woman like yourself get hurt," the wink he sent you paired with the way he was very obviously checking you out made your cheeks burn. "And your korean is so good too!"

"Ah, thank you that means a lot! I'm also glad to see that you can enjoy yourself like this freely," you said with a head tilt to the stage where ISOKNOCK was still playing. The smile never left his face. "Yeah, I'm really enjoying the view right now…”

Mingi took a step forward, reducing the distance between your body and his as he came to stand by your side while you were vibing to the music.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," you winked and turned back to face the stage. You could feel him hovering behind you, eyes staring at the back of your head for a moment before whispering a soft, "Yeah...”.

Searching the crowd for your best friend, you found her dancing with a tall brunette that was feeling her up rather enthusiastically. The way it looked you knew that she wasn't gonna stay around much longer and would soon search for a spot to fuck the stranger into tomorrow.

She winked over his shoulder at you and you laughed at her antics before she took his hand and disappeared in the crowd.

"Was that your friend?"

You looked at him over your shoulder, nodding and looking upfront again. "Yes, seems like I'll be leaving alone later tho." you chuckled.

"And you aren't planning to do the same as her? Leave with someone to have some fun, I mean?"

His words made you stop your dancing and startled look back at his face again. He was smiling still but something about the twinkle in his eyes caused you to pickup on the ultirior motive behind said smile. It looked almost mischievous!

"Are you offering?"

The surprise in your voice was evident. Did he really just- ask if you were down to go fuck with him? Him? Mingi? Rapper of your favorite boy group? You were already surprised that you had kept your cool once you had known who had caught you and that he hadn't immediately left right after!

The man shrugged, his oversized black jacket with the little fix on drawing printed on, slipping ever so slightly. Revealing a small bit of tattoo on his chest. You gulped.

"Would you agree if I was?"

Suddenly his voice was much closer then before; him having leaned forward to whisper directly into your ear. You felt dizzy. With his front now almost pressed to your back, you could feel the warmth emanating from his body. It left you breathless and the touch of his hand on your waist did not make it better.

Humming quietly you nodded.

"What was that? I need words darling…” he drawled out, the music long having faded into the background.

Fuck!

You swallowed harshly.

"Yes, I would! Please…” you whispered hoping that he could hear you. Mingis hand left your side which you automatically missed until he reached for your hand instead, leading you away through the crowd and away from any people.

Panic struck when you remembered the amount of cameras surrounding you and him and what they could pick up.

He must have sensed that something was wrong. "Don't mind them." Hurrying to get out of the spotlight, the rapper led you to the backstage area, waving at the security guard who nodded at him with a low whistle that had your cheeks burning.

You recognized the trailers that the artists used to get ready for the show or simply to hangout and you almost squealed walking past Sabrina Carpenter!

While you weren't sure where you were being led to, Mingi knew exactly where he was going. The yellow sign with Ateez written in dark purple glitter pinned to one of the trailer doors clueing you in very soon.

Picking the lock swiftly, Mingi gestured for you to come inside before doing the same. The door of the trailer falling shut behind him.

You looked around, taking in the surroundings. There were multiple vanity tables, chairs and an unbelievable amount of luggage standing at the side but what caught your eyes specifically, was the big and very comfortable looking couch.

His hot breath fanned over the exposed skin of your neck, making you shudder and goosebumps appeared on your arms. Your purse mindlessly dropping to the floor and Mingi wrapped his arms around you from behind, plush lips pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot right below your ear, making you shudder.

You tipped your head back, letting it rest against his shoulder. Enjoying the feeling of his mouth trailing down your neck. The soft sting of his teeth nibbling on the skin getting soothed by his tongue licking over the bites like a little kitten. The temperature inside the room suddenly much warmer and a thin sheen of sweat appeared on your skin.

The man let up from your neck to walk in front of you, fingers reaching for you to pull you along, dropping down on the couch and take you down with him. Now perched up on his lap you couldn't stop yourself from pressing your lips to his in an urgent kiss. Not hesitating to reciprocate Mingi let his tongue run over your lower lip begging to be let in. His left hand found purchase on your waist, the left one pushing up the fabric of your skirt and squeezing the flesh of your thigh.

Your breath hitched at the touch and Mingi used the chance to deepen the kiss further.

With clumsy moves and shacking fingers you pulled down the zipper of his jacket, shrugging it of his shoulders and revealing a low cut black tank top and more of his tattoo. Gripping the hem of the shirt you pulled it over his head and threw it carelessly somewhere behind you.

"Fuck, I knew it looked good but damn-" you gasped out, finger tips brushing over his chest and making him laugh loudly.

“Good to know that it had it's desired effect ." he winked and removed your own top to throw it to the side. He admired you with hooded eyes, the strap of your bra slipping down your shoulder. Quick and definitely knowing how, he opened the clasp on the back and with a smooth shrug of your shoulder the offending piece of clothing landed somewhere behind you on the floor.

Mingi used the moment of distraction to lean forward, his plush lips now wrapped around your nipple, licking and sucking like he had spend a lifetime doing it. A moan ripped through the silence of the night and you could feel yourself clench around nothing while the rapper used his mouth to tease your breast as his hand fondled the other gently. Thumb flicking over the nub, stimulating it deliciously.

You could feel his other hand resting on your waist, guiding the rolling of your hips against the very prominent bulge in his pants. Until now, you hadn't even noticed that you had started grinding against him and judging by the blissed out expression, Mingi didn't seem to mind in the slightest.

At a particular hard roll against his dick, Mingi Iet up and an almost whiny sound of desperation escaped his throat.

"Want you out of those pants," you panted against his mouth, knowing full well that's what he wanted too.

"Fuck yes, please?" Mingi gasped lowly. His face was scrunched together in pleasure and with barely opened eyes the man nodded again for good measure. At this point he was already so hard that it was almost painful wearing the prison of fabric that were his pants and underwear and the little sounds he made went straight to your pussy.

You could feel your underwear very well sticking to the skin, sure that it was a whole mess in them by now after grinding against him and it wouldn’t surprise you if you had soaked his sweatpants too.

With your skirt scrunched together at your waist you pulled away, his mouth separating from your tits and a sound of disappointment came from him.

It sounded suspiciously close to a whine which in return made you smirk smugly down at him.

“Get these off.” You demanded with a teasing peck to his cheek and loved the wide boba eyes he gave you at the change of tone in your voice. Mingi entranced by the look on your face quickly rushed to do as he was told.

His cock sprang free and hit his stomach before bouncing back and you could feel your mouth watering at this.

“Good boy.” You purred, forcing him to look into your eyes by holding his face just how you wanted it; thumb gliding smoothly over his cheek bone and you let up once more to shrug your panties down your legs.

When you reached for the hem of your skirt, Mingi stopped you and shook his head with begging eyes.

“Leave it, you look so sexy in it…”

So you left it. Hands lowering to his shoulders you sat back down in his lap which Mingi did not stay in for long as he twisted you around so you were suddenly trapped under his large frame, caged in by his arms right next to your head and making it impossible to escape.

Not that you wanted to.

The man above you surged forward to meet your lips in urgency. His cock was rubbing against the inside of your thigh searching for your cunt to plunge into.

“Can’t wait anymore, can i-“ he gasped against your mouth.

“Yes! God, yes pleeease!” you keened in return and let your head sink back into the cushions of the couch, lifting you hips a bit so he could line himself up.

His head caught against the opening of your pussy and you groaned in unison with Mingi when he finally pushed himself in.

It didn’t take much for the rapper to absolutely lose it. As soon as he was sheathed inside you, he lost control over himself. His head fell forward as loud moans filled the trailer and his thrusts were met with the rolling of your hips.

You felt like you were send straight to heaven. Riding the cloud of ecstasy as you got fucked just like you needed him to.

It was evident that Mingi very well knew what to do [don’t argue with me on this cause my man absolutely knows how to fuck!!!].

You were both so wound up that it didn’t take long for your orgasm to build up.

You slung your legs behind his ass, urging him to go faster. Your hand reached for his hair to hold onto while your other went down to rub your clit and a high pitched whine fell from your lips and went directly into Mingi’s ear.

His thrusts grew erratic as you both hurled towards your peak.

Your walls clamped down on his dick sending yourself and him over the edge. White hot cum spilled out while Mingi did not stop plunging himself into you, fucking you through the waves of your orgasm to let you ride it and you felt his seed run down the inside of your thighs when his moves stuttered and slowed down.

The pleasurable pain of overstimulation burned through you and neither you nor Mingi had the strength to move. The man let his man rest against your bare chest before letting out a soft chuckle.

“What?” you asked, amusement lacing your voice at his demeanor.

Mingi glanced up with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.

“Coachelly, baby!”

[that-house]

My name is Invino Veritas, the greatest pop sensation to ever grace the radios of New Space City. What’s New Space City? It’s like Space City but in New Space instead of normal outer space. Try to keep up, idiot.

My incredibly normal and lame parents, Hal and Sarah Veritas, thought they were soooo funny giving their daughter a name like Invino, and then a traveling wish-god said “you think that’s funny? i’m about to be hilarious” and cursed me so that I have to always tell the truth as long as my blood alcohol content is above a .000000000000000000001. Yeah, you read the number of zeroes right. I can’t even breathe in the same room as a PBR without confessing that I do in fact think I’m smarter, hotter, and more talented than everyone else, which makes me fun at parties.

I was really pissed at that guy for ruining drinking for me forever, so I was majoring in homicide at NSCU to become a totally badass assassin and kill him, but my real passion was always music. When the EP I recorded in my dorm room, My Roommate Fucking Hates Me, caught the ear of a bigshot producer, I dropped out and sold out immediately. I bring an honest sort of grunginess to the New Space City music scene, by which I mean that I pay my stylist $700,000 an hour to make my hair look just a little bit messy before I step out on stage. Nothing too crazy of course, I have an image to maintain.

Smash cut to five years later and I’m six chart-topping albums into a seven-album deal with Lucifer the Lightbringer. Yes, that Lucifer, from the bible and, more famously, those really schlocky 3190s devilsploitation porn flicks. You know, Horns of Desire (3193) and the rest? Yeah, that Lucifer. He opened a record company with the money he made selling silicone casts of his film-festival-winning penis, and my blend of earnest naivety and raw ego was exactly what he was looking for in a star.

When he sent the paperwork, I said I’d have my lawyer look at it, but I didn’t have a lawyer and was too embarrassed to admit it, so I just waited a week and signed it without reading it. Turns out when my seven albums are done I go to Hell forever and so does everyone who’s ever listened to my music. Even on the radio. Or in an advertisement. Sorry. So yeah, I’ve really been procrastinating on this last one. To all my fans out there: make sure you preorder Always Read the Fine Print, because I don’t think I can cash those checks once I’m in Hell.

On the bright side, I think if I play my cards right I can convince him to greenlight a behind-the-scenes documentary about the making of the album, and that’s basically a free pass to do whatever I want for a year or two as long as it makes for good footage. Obviously if anyone kills me before the album is done, the apocalypse is averted and only I go to hell, but think about this from a utilitarian standpoint: sure, a few trillion immortal souls are on the line, but I think this is going to be some of my best work yet. Plus, I hate getting killed. So whoever’s sending assassins after me, could you please stop?

[awful-little-goose]

What's it like in each bishops harem?

This one’s been in the ask box for a WHILEEE (sorry Anon), but I really needed to get my headcanons to a place where I liked them (even wrote some short fics about it- no, I won’t share ✨✨✨)

Enjoy!

Leshy is completely endeared with all his lovers, but the way he shows his affection can be…unpredictable. Still, he’s easily swiped off his feet and even offering him a simple bouquet is enough to make him swoon. His biggest flaw is that he tends to forget that mortals are…mortal, fragile, and easily traumatized. He is very physical with his affection, and his feelings can sometimes take over him. Mortal bones are oh so fragile, and their minds so much more so…but come to the party, my sweet, enjoy the festivities, the taste of wine, and the burn of alcohol reserved to the gods. Ignore the maddening illusions and your heart in your throat, he looks so delighted.

Heket is by far the most terrifying goddess of the bunch. She intimidates her spouses and is quite dominant, but has shown to be easily charmed by spouses with a strong personality.

She’ll take her partners to watch terrifying things, such as public executions, sacrifices, cannibal banquets, or even torture sessions, either to show off her power, or intimidate her partners into obeying her. She is prone to violent fits of anger. Still, she does love to just lay around with her partners, and relax under the autumn sun. Deep inside, she cares for some of them, but her ways of showing affection are…disturbing. Now, dear, why haven’t you touched your dinner? She killed them for you herself…

Kallamar is the sweetest one. He spoils his lovers rotten, compliments them day and night, and expects just as much affection in return. He demands rich, elaborated gifts, and loves taking his darlings on swimming dates. He’s very, VERY easily flustered under all that sass. His biggest flaw is his insecurity, which can lead him to being…quite unstable. Surely, he is loved, and adored…isn’t he?

Shamura seems cold at times, but they do care for their spouses. Of the bishops (excluding Narinder), they have the least partners, but those they keep are highly loyal, and treated with respect. They can be a little overprotective at times.

They expect their partners to be incredible fighters, and highly cultured. And they won’t hesitate to put them in fights, intellectual or physical, against one another…and they only keep champions. Losers have only one place to be: wrapped in a bundle of silk, hung above the ground, in the nest of Shamura’s scorpions.

Bonus, Narinder: Narinder doenst have a harem, and is instead waiting for the one soul that will ignite fire to his cold, dead heart. He can be caught thinking about when he’ll meet his dear however, and plans on covering them with tokens of appreciation, honor, and peaceful dreams…

…as well as keeping them close at his sides. So close they will forget their own individuality.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

Jack-o'-lanterns have such a grab bag of lore, i love it

Fire, of course, has a long history of offering protection from evil forces. During the Celtic festival of Samhain (from which many Halloween traditions originate), the veil between worlds was considered thin, and ritual bonfires reminded the spooks to stay on their side of the lane.

Many a lantern has protected the lonely traveler on a dark moonless night. But lanterns can be dangerous too—especially the supernatural ones. in certain folklore 'jack-o'-lantern' was another name for will-o'-the-wisps, atmospheric ghost lights (or as legend has it, lost souls) that appear above bogs and lure unwise wanderers into sinkholes.

Then there's the 18th cent Irish folktale of Stingy Jack, a mischievous fellow who tricked the Devil twice, exacting a promise that hell would never claim his soul. So Jack goes on his cheerful way, and dies (as humans are prone to do), and ends up at the pearly gates. Now Heaven, it turns out, doesn't want a damn thing to do with him. So Jack jaunts on down and goes knocking on the gates of hell—only to have Satan slam the door in his face! How this leads to Stingy Jack being doomed to wander the earth carrying a hollowed out rutabaga lit by an ember of the flames of hell, I couldn't tell you. But that is how the story goes.

Whether the legend of Stingy Jack inspired or fueled or was created-by the gourd-carving practice, by the 19th cent, Irish, Scottish, and Welsh alike were annually carving jack-o'-lanterns out of turnips & rutabaga & beets & potatoes, and lighting them up to ward off Jack and other wandering spirits. Immigrants carried the tradition to North America, where pumpkins were indigenous and much easier to carve.

And so the modern Jack-o'-Lantern was born!

Not that gourd lanterns were anything new. Metalwork was expensive, after all, and gourds worked as-well-as and better-than-most crops when it came to carving a poor farmer's lantern.

As for carving human faces into vegetables, that supposedly goes back thousands of years in certain Celtic cultures. It may even have evolved from head veneration, or been used to represent the severed skulls of enemies defeated in battle. Or maybe not! Like many human traditions, jack-o'-lanterns evolved over multiple eras and cultures and regions, in some ways we can trace and others we can only guess at. But at the end of the day, it makes a damn good story, and a spooky way to celebrate—which is as good a reason as any (and a better reason than most!) to keep a tradition going.

In conclusion: happy spooky season, and remind me to tell yall about plastered human skulls one of these days 🎃

srcs 1, 2, 3

[venuzasmuse]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐞. 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬

— the holidays are meant to be festive, free of heartache and solemnity, but odds are forever not in your favor as you spend the holidays with your best friend alongside her sister, that broke your heart.

[rockstar!ellie au, best friend’s sister!ellie, kinda mean!ellie (for a few parts of the story)]

previous, next

warnings: reader is afab, not proofread, mature language, mentions of substance abuse (drugs), ellies a dick in this chapter srry guys, WHOLE LOTTA ANGST. smut & fluff in later chapters. POC FRIENDLY !!

this chapters kinda long because it’s still introducing the reader & ellie’s relationship dynamic so bare with me pls pls pls

upon arriving in texas, a wave of nostalgia washes over you as you peered over the horizons of the buzzing city streets.

the traffic was still— as long as you could remember— terrible. pedestrians raided the roads as if they had enough lives for the people on it and tenfold. you can recount the amount of days you'd be late for school because your brother, simon, took obnoxiously long in the bathroom. you could almost still smell his putrid sauvage cologne from here. the strong scent filling your senses— your head spun nauseatingly so.

you grapple with the map in your hand, flipping it every which way trying to give yourself a sense of reassurance as you and sarah navigated through the intersections. you loved your best friend but you couldn't sugarcoat the fact that her love for detours affected her driving skills poorly.

she'd listen to her gps for the first few hours and eventually get fed up with the alterations that emitted from the older device, completely tossing the given routes out of the window and using her intuition as a sense of direction instead.

"jesus, has texas always been this confusing?" the blonde exasperated, a heavy hand coming down to the steering wheel as a blare emitted from the vehicle.

you shoot her a glare that goes unnoticed and the car jerks as she overpasses the poor old lady in front of her.

"does it hurt you to have any patience?" you groan out. you slump in your seat and throw your head back against the headrest tiredly.

"patience never did anyone any good before." she declares sheepishly, a playful smile spreading across her pretty face.

your head lolls to the side to face the side of her head and you give her a playful eye roll.

"i swear to God, if we ever get caught in a drive by, i'd never let you live it down. even in hell."

she laughs a throaty laugh. sarah grabs your hand giving it a squeeze and shake, her demeanor excited.

"come on! don't be so grim. aren't you excited to be going back home? i mean it's been years." she switches to another lane, eyes trained on the rear view. "my dad is super excited to have you back. he said you're welcome as long as you need to be."

"that's only because we never gave him a choice before." you prompt. the two of you giggle.

"you know what i mean. i'm so hungry— maybe we can hit up mel's diner when we get there. i'd kill for their cheeseburgers right now."

you glance at the gps. "2 1/2 hours left" before y'all were to reach your destination. you groan, pulling your hat down to shield your face away from the blaring sun beaming down on your skin.

you'd be lying if you said that you had gotten any shut eye the night before. too plagued with overthinking, the dead of the night was filled with the sound of tossing and turning as you fought against yourself at an amateur attempt to soothe your own nerves.

trepidation dripped down your soul. you weren't sure how finally seeing ellie again for the first time would enfold. you had a plan to simply just avoid her but you knew you probably weren't going to keep up with that very long.

ellie was persistent and if she had any plan to resolve things, it wouldn't go unnoticed by a long shot. no matter how hard you tried to steer clear of it.

sarah knew about the reason why the two of you broke up. she was sympathetic enough to take your feelings about seeing her sister again after 2 and half dreadful years.

she witnessed first hand the aftermath of what ellie did to you. a brutal 9 nine months of you trying to build yourself high enough on a pedestal to be able to move on completely. she listened to you every step of the way, her ears open and her arms empathetic with every tear shed.

it was even worse when the media coverage began getting ahold of their band. 7 months after you and ellie had stopped talking completely due to your nasty breakup, her band rose to stardom and you could still remember how much dread washed over you to hear the sound of her playing on the radio for the first time.

you avoided her, in every way you could. if that meant no music for months until the hype of her album died down even just a little bit, then so be it.

but the limelight wasn't always as glamorous. you alongside of her family, despite not having heard from her in years, knew about how she'd been living because once the tabloids got a hold of her, the only thing plaguing the media coverage was about ellie.

who she was spotted with, newly sparked dating rumors as she was seen with a different girl nearly every month, and even the downfall of her newly acquired fame.

in pure janis joplin fashion, the height of her success came crashing down as people started suspecting ellie to be abusing drugs. it started when people began to notice how blasted she was in a few interviews. her nodding off didn't go unnoticed by a long shot.

in the spotlight, instances like this weren't uncommon.

you watch a talented person rise to the top, their talent evident as day as they showed it off to the word come plummeting down in a wave of wasted potential due to drugs and or alcohol. it was tragic and despite being as angry as you were with her, seeing the girl you grew up with live the way she was, created a moggy feeling in your chest.

eventually, the band made an announcement that their tour would've had to gone on a break due to "complications" but you and everyone else knew it was because ellie was in rehab.

as soon as she was discharged, the ongoing scarcity of contact between her and her family came to a brusque halt when joel offered for his daughter to come back home, at least until she was ready enough to face her new life again.

so when you found out that she'd be spending christmas with y'all, there was no doubt in your mind you'd have to brace yourself for whatever outcome would emerge from it.

"i'm gonna try and get some sleep. we still have a long way to go."

sarah boos at your resignation, exclaiming a few declarations about how you're leaving her to die of boredom. "you suck!"

you don't respond, simply smiling and turning your head as you're inevitably wisked away into a state of slumber.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

a somber tune draws out a melancholic melody on your record player, filling the corners of your cavernous room. the night breathes life through a soft breeze that grazes past your curtains. yet, as the sun sets and the cicadas begin to shriek, no amount of words in the english language can drown out the bitterness that sits in the pit of your chest.

no amount of rephrasing could rewrite the sorrow that consumes you whole, in this moment or the next.

you sit with the grief as your gaze lingers on the girl in front of you. ellie sits on the edge of your bed. she's faced away from you, as always, as she stares ahead at the neon lights that seep through the crevices of your room.

clouds of smoke forms around her figure with practiced cinematic effort and your eyes take her in with taut admiration.

you usually dread when the room grows quiet like this. the silence is blinding and tension is permeated in your walls. it leaves you high and dry and guts you with cynicism.

you wait for the moment for her to slip back into bed with you but it never comes. the thought of not being the placeholder of such intimacy rings in your ears like a bad case of tinnitus.

at least not this time around.

you sit up crawling towards her in desperate attempt to get her to look at you. you wrap your arms around her neck, resting your chin on her bare shoulder. empty viridescent eyes scan your face yet you can't seem to deconstruct any love tucked away behind them.

you knew deep down that what once existed fondly between the two of you was stripped away, little to nothing— a scarce void of recognition.

“what’s going on?” you hum out lovingly, as you press a prolonged kiss to her shoulder. “been quiet all night.”

the auburn headed girl heaved out a sigh as she dropped her head in her hands. she braced herself to face you, taking your wrists in her callused palms as she brought your hands to her mouth, pecking the backs tenderly.

“i.. i think we should talk.” she finally vocalizes. the words shoot fear down your spine, goosebumps arising were her lips once resided.

“about what?”

she gives you a look as she turns her body to face you, straightening her back a little bit more. “so you know how i’ve been getting to practice with the band lately? because their guitarist ended up quitting?”

you watched her for a moment skeptically before nodding.

her words are caught in her throat momentarily as she looks down once more. “well, cat and them asked me to join their band.” a glimmer of gleam passes across her face as she breathes out a breath she was holding.

you furrow your brows, a smile breaking onto your face. “that’s great! i’m so happy for you!” you exclaim, grabbing her chin in between your finger to press a proud kiss onto her cheek.

you knew how long ellie had wanted to be apart of something like this. after years of supporting her, you were filled to the brim with joy that she was finally reaching a steppingstone to where she wanted to be in life.

yet, you could tell something was still bothering her as she tensed up in your embrace. “well, they offered me to join but..”

“but..” you trail, eyes still held with hope.

“cat said she knew someone in los angeles that knew someone that could get us signed to a record label. the only downside is we’d have to move over there.”

your face fell as her words fell on sensitive ears.

“move?” you let out a nervous chuckle. “but.. los angeles is across the country.”

capturing her bottom lip in between her teeth, you watch as she gnaws down on it regrettably.

of course, you were elated for her. over the moon.

hell, you would’ve done anything for ellie to make this happen for her, one way or another. but hearing the catch of finally being able to pursue her dreams had you feeling selfishly opposed to the idea.

surely, she wouldn’t have made such a rash decision without taking it up with you first. ya’ll had so many plans that were already set in stone. all you wanted was at least a heads up if they were going to be altered to accustom to ellie’s new schedule pertaining to her band.

“so, what did you say?” your tone faltering from ecstatic to one that could’ve fell on deaf ears if not attentive enough.

“i said yes. i agreed that i’d go with them.” her word vomit rushes out like a fountain and your hands drop from her face as you turn away from her in shock. she grabs your smaller face in her hands, as she tips her head down to meet your avoidant gaze. you shut your eyes, muttering out a “shit” as you felt the pathetic rush of tears burn at the back of your eyelids.

“baby, i couldn’t pass this up. this is my chance to finally get out of this town. i’ve wanted this for so long.” she pleads, dropping down to her knees in front of you.

“why didn’t you wait to at least talk to me about it, ellie? three months ago, we were just planning on moving in together! and what? now you’re just about to dismiss any say that i had in this?”

she lets out an exasperated sigh of defeat as she bargains with her response.

“this is about my future! this is something i’ve wanted for years!” she encompasses her bottom lip back in between her teeth, scavenging her scattered brain to make this situation better.

“you can come with me! didn’t you always tell me you’d follow me anywhere?”

you scoff, shaking your head. “i can’t just pack up my things and run away to los angeles like this with you. it’s expensive there and with the money we have saved up, we wouldn’t last a year in a place like that with just the two of us. we’d need more time.”

don’t cry. don’t cry. you think to yourself as you feel the waterworks begin to churn.

“we could figure it out! cat mentioned a bunch of-”

you scoff at the mention of the girl’s name as you stood up from your place on the bed, walking over towards your window as you dug your fingers through your unkempt hair.

“i can’t believe you made a decision about this with cat before you even mentioned it to me. i should’ve known it was deeper than that.”

ellie stops in her tracks, an expression of hurt painted across her face at the idea of you believing she had concealed intentions between her and cat. but could you really blame yourself ? it would’ve been hard on any girl to see that her significant other’s time was consumed by another girl. especially with the considerable amount of times they spent alone together.

you would’ve been a fool to not suspect anything at all but your love for ellie ran too deep; you didn’t think you could handle it if you lost her to another girl. so you kept quiet, giving her the benefit of the doubt and begged venus herself for the girl to not prove you right.

“it was never deeper than anything.” her tone was stilled as she stared at you with accusatory.

“can you blame me ellie? i mean seriously. you’ve been alone with her more in these past few months than you’ve even talked to me! some days, i don’t even hear from you at all because you’re with her!” your voice goes up an octave as tears begin to spill from your eyes.

“it’s because of—”

“what? the band?” you cut her off, not wanting to hear her myriad of excuses. “i see the way you look at her. you look at her like she’s the only thing you see.” you brush past her to grab your shirt, pulling it over your head hastily.

“the lingering looks, the canceled plans, the way you never tell her to stop fucking holding onto your arms the way she fucking does!” bitterness begins to overpower the solemnity paying homage to the pit of your heaving chest as you jostle her scroll of excuses back to her.

“i mean, god, ellie. has it ever occurred to you that you still have obligations to set boundaries in this relationship?” your tone is constraint from going back to normal.

“are you fucking serious?” she snaps, the pitch of her voice blending with yours in a chaotic cacophony. “i’m trying to tell you about how big of a deal this band is to me, trying to make up solutions, and you’re accusing me of leaving for fucking cat?”

“i mean it was her idea, wasn’t it?” you countered. you were at your breaking point with ellie. you felt like nothing you said would ever change her perspective so you gave up.

you no longer wanted to fight for someone that couldn’t care to think twice about how their actions inflicted hurt on you.

maybe this wasn’t about her leaving anymore. instead, as the conversation became more clear, the realization settled when you realized you were losing her.

“i’m not doing this with you.” you watch as ellie gathered her things in fit of rage, throwing on her flannel and slipping her feet back into her converses as grabbed her bag, ready to walk out.

a feeling of dread quickly dissipates all of the fury you momentarily had as you rush towards her, wanting to resolve this before the two of you went to bed upset.

“ellie. come on, please.” you grab her face, pleading with eager eyes for her to not leave when things began to get bad.

you knew your girlfriend was stubborn. often alternating between fight or flight when reality began to corner her. but you knew, this time was different. no matter what the two of you chose to do, it would change the trajectory of your lives together.

she avoids your eyes and you feel the warmth cascade down your face heavily. “don’t walk out on me. please. not like this.”

she finally looks at you and it’s hard to read her.

“i need to do this for me. not for anyone else. i’m not going to wait for you to change your mind if some ulterior motive you think i have will always be in the backside of your mind.” she asserted, planted in her obstinance.

“if you leave now, i’m not gonna wait for you to come back.”

her eyes scanned your own down to your lips back to your eyes before grabbing your wrists to pull your hands away from her.

“that’s up to you.” was the last thing she said as she turned to walk out of your empty house. the moment you heard the door slam shut, you dropped to your knees as the tears began to pour.

if there was one thing ellie was good at, it was keeping her word. ever since the the two of you were puny little teenagers, she still managed to keep ahold of all of her promises, even the smallest most frivolous ones.

it was something you loved about her because it showed her resilience and firmness. her ability to stand her ground. but as you sit with your hot head in your hands against the comfort of your bed that still smelled like her, you wished so desperately that the one quality you admired so much, wasn’t something she attained.

you knew there was no use in trying to change her mind or waiting for her to. she was set in her ways and held no exemptions, not even for you.

it was a thick pill to swallow but you knew, the moment she walked out that door, it was over.

the next few days were filled with no contact. your phone was sparse of any calls or messages except for one from your mother asking you to defrost the chicken or the occasional check up from your friends when they learned about what happened.

your room was a ghost town. her presence haunting you as a constant reminder in every corner. you couldn’t run away from her even if you wanted to.

you wished you were stronger in your ways. it would’ve saved you your dignity if you were prideful but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to be. you were the worst at staying mad— just wanting to fix things with your girl.

you even racked up some ideas about how ya’ll could make this arrangement work in a heap of desperation.

so when you rendered yourself enough courage to face the situation at hand, you made your way over to her house. you were hopeful that she wasn’t completely set in throwing it all away.

but when you reached her front door, all you were met with was a note that joel gave you that was left to him by ellie. his eye bags were deep showcasing his worry and lack of sleep and you saw a few more grey tendrils in his salt and pepper hair.

ellie had left a few mornings after the fight between the two of you. she left no trace of her behind to be gotten ahold of and you, joel, or sarah hadn’t heard from her since.

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