#and they are coming from the most recent music festival

[beachyserasims]

Enter the twins...

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[ybklix]

BROOKLYN BABY

★ pairing: rockstarbf!hyunjin x fem!reader

✦summary: Your boyfriend’s pretty cool, plays guitar and is in a popular band. You love to support him, yet you can't help but feel jealous and insecure at the sight of all his fans and the groupies the rest of the members bring backstage.

✭ content - tags - warnings: MDNI, smut, established relationship, fluff, fingering, oral sex

word count: 3.7k

•masterlist•

♡ inspiration:

a/n: happy late ultraviolence day, my fav album, no one loves her like i do lolol, so here’s a little smth, i'll write more inspired by the rest of the songs omg i love my fav child

Hyunjin was a romantic, unlike the rest of his band members, who enjoyed the excess, success and fame that grew more and more every day. He was in charge of writing each of the songs that thrilled thousands of teenagers since he had such an idealized perception of love and loved to romanticize every detail as well as he was in charge of designing each artistic design of the album because of his skills in drawing and painting, he was a sensitive artist, born under a water sign, trying to give the image of a tough and sexy guy for the good of the band. His position was to be the lead guitarist and backing voice for the lead vocalist, yet everyone in the band contributed vocally, grabbing the audience like no other band in that year in the nineties. The crazy nineties, everyone loved rock and roll with the same intensity as the seventies and this time more styles were explored. Everyone loved your boyfriend's band.

You were lucky enough to meet him when they were still newbies with big dreams performing in bars, where Hyunjin claims to have fallen in love with you at first sight, however, his shyness got the best of him and he didn't dare to talk to you and, it wasn't until a month later that, in a jazz club in Brooklyn, in one of the poetry sessions and nights, almost by fate, he met you again, he couldn't miss the opportunity and finally approached you, he seemed so cute and strangely his face seemed so familiar to you, it was about the handsome guitarist you saw once.

Hyunjin didn't have a specific favorite band, he took inspiration from the greats, he enjoyed everything from Nirvana to Guns n' Roses, to classics like Led Zeppelin, he was frequently talking to you on the phone to tell you about his obsession of the week musically, the most recent one, Chris Isaak. Two months ago he started his official tour around the country, which you couldn't accompany him no matter how much you wanted to, the university stopped you. Yet you still supported him from afar and watched every TV show he went on and every radio station with his interviews, you were so happy for him. His most recent appearance was on MTV, he looked like a celebrity, but he was still your sweet and tender Jinnie. And finally he was coming back to close the tour at his hometown in New York City, where it all started for you.

You, unlike Hyunjin, were more down to earth, honest and not afraid to stand up for your beliefs, so you studied law, with an uncontrollable passion for shy lyrics. In contrast to your parents, both rock and roll lovers, artists, your mother was a tarot amateur and identified herself as a spiritual person, your father a landscape painter, both met at a music festival the same amount of years ago as your older brother's age, a Manhattan novelist; yet you grew up in an environment where support was always constant and your personality developed being totally different from your boyfriend's, bold and daring, born under a sign of fire.

You loved Hyunjin, together you were literally like fire and water, and finally you could see him again after so long, you missed him too much, you missed when his band was still small and you spent days in his apartment watching him play the guitar, how he held you by the waist and kissed your neck while you combed your hair to go to college, every little detail that from one day to another changed.

Because of your schedule you couldn't meet your boyfriend at the airport and you could barely stand in the front row, waiting for them to come out and play. You wanted to go backstage to wish him luck, run into his arms and kiss him, after so long and only surviving on phone calls. But, for the first time you were terrified to be in the crowd and you didn't want to lose your place in the front row next to your boyfriend's position, although you thought for seconds if you should go closer and watch the concert from backstage… you were so indecisive and you never visualized your boyfriend's manager to authorize you to enter… you pouted and in a matter of minutes the venue was filling up more, you noticed how, among the crowd and entering easily, three girls were standing next to you. You couldn't help but notice them, they were wearing skirts and cleavage-baring tops, their eyeliner was sharp and perfect, you felt a little inferior and slightly less attractive for a second.

And the show started, the lights went down, and you heard your boyfriend's guitar, the people started to scream and your heart accelerated, the lights turned on, illuminating individually each one of the four members and, among them was your boyfriend, looking as good as always, his long black hair, his red guitar and wearing a gray sleeveless shirt attached to his body with ripped jeans and black combat boots, you noticed he was wearing the necklace you gave him before he went away from you to start the tour and… suddenly your world came to a standstill, there was only Hyunjin in front of you, doing what he is most passionate about.

Hyunjin, once he started to play, he looked for you with his eyes without stopping until he found you in front of him, his smile got bigger, he was smiling like he had never done in another concert, he felt so full. He winked at you and continued with his show, moving his fingers with agility, a young and gifted guitarist with talent, so did Rolling Stone described him in a small article; a little more than an arduous hour of concert later, Hyunjin finished agitated and slightly sweaty and, among the emotion, the only thing he asked to make the night more beautiful, was to be able to hug you. Until he finally did it, he had to go backstage with the rest of the group, but his manager took care to guide you discreetly to the room behind the stage, at the same time you noticed the same three girls next to you walking next to you, to which you understood instantly that they were groupies, you sighed, you could not help but get upset at the fleeting thought that… maybe Hyunjin has had his own groupie before.

Among the darkness of the venue, you finally found the light, the lit room and, there, your boyfriend standing there with a nervous smile waiting for you, your jealousy vanished in seconds, you couldn't be mad at him, he looked so cute with his little sparkling eyes and a shirt over his shoulders trying to dry his sweat. You ran to him and hugged him no matter how soaked he was, it was part of his routine. You felt his lean frame next to your body and warm chest bump against yours, oh, Hyunjin, you had missed him too much.

“I missed you” Hyunjin spoke, his chin resting on your shoulder, holding you tightly.

“I missed you, too” you replied breathlessly, you were so excited to see him.

You slowly pulled apart and he had to kiss you, so he took your face in his hands and did it delicately and passionately, in such a unique way he knew how to do it.

You both smiled at each other as you pulled apart.

“You should have come with me next time, oh god, the west coast is… so different, I think we should move to California once you finish college, love. They offered me a house in Hollywood” Hyunjin blurted out suddenly excited and overstimulated to have you near him.

You laughed softly at his adorable reaction, the way his cheeks went up, narrowing his eyes more, his smile, hiding his upper lip and showing his teeth, ready to speak again.

“I have an interview for Rolling Stone in a few minutes, but after that I'm all yours, I promise, let's get you to say hi to the guys” Hyunjin spoke softly taking you by the hand.

You happily walked into the place, but your smile faded as you saw one of the girls wildly kissing the lead vocalist, Han, on one of the couches while she was sitting on his lap. Another girl on the drummer's lap as he sat behind the instrument and the bassist talking animatedly with another girl.

“Hey, guys” you said shyly trying not to interrupt something.

The members came out of their trances and greeted you.

“Do you want something to drink?” Hyunjin tried to distract you with a tender smile.

“I'll get it, love” you smiled at Hyunjin giving him a quick kiss on his full lips and headed to the drink table.

Hyunjin made himself comfortable on an elongated couch, alone, and waiting for you.

“And you, Hyunjin, if you had the chance to smoke and chat with any singer who would it be with?” one of the girls came dangerously close to Hyunjin, plopping down on the couch very close to him, placing her hand on his thigh.

You turned around, with the two drinks in your hands and suddenly saw the scene of the girl near your boyfriend, making you squint your eyes in annoyance.

“I don't smoke. I don't know… Steven Tyler maybe” stood Hyunjin uncomfortably and walked to your direction, giving you a tender smile and taking one of the glasses.

“God, his daughter is beautiful, we saw her at that club in L.A., didn't we? A pretty, educated girl” added Chris, the drummer.

“The correct answer is Bon Jovi, he's too good looking, who wouldn't want to talk to him?” commented Changbin, the bass player.

Los Angeles, you thought, just California that Hyunjin told you so passionately about a few moments ago… you couldn't help but think of ideas not good at all, you were jealous, upset and a little hurt. You knew Hyunjin would never do anything to hurt you… or would he?

You looked at him, he understood your look instantly, he knew you as well as every string of his favorite precious guitar and tried to pull you away from them, taking you to his dressing room, ready to calm you down and be more in privacy. Hyunjin knew you were easily angered, you tried to be a cute and docile girlfriend but you couldn't. He recognized your annoyed expression, making him bite his lip undecided what to say.

“Those girls are always with you?” you spat annoyed.

“Y/n…” tried to reassure you Hyunjin.

“Hyunjin have you been with a groupie?” you blurted out suddenly staring him straight in the eyes defiantly.

You weren't thinking clearly, anger took over you, you were aware that it happened every time they finished a concert, or at least you want to think it's like that for the rest of the members who are single, but seeing it with your own eyes made your blood boil at the thought of a girl near your boyfriend trying to seduce him. The life of a rock star girlfriend wasn't for you, you wanted Hyunjin all to yourself.

“You know I wouldn't do that… I waited every day for you, I thought every day about you” Hyunjin replied, taking your glass and leaving it on a small table over there just like his drink.

Hyunjin searched for your gaze, you didn't want to see him, you were behaving a bit childish but his words could be a lie, after all he was a rising star. He grabbed your forearm, squeezing them gently between his large hands and you turned to look at him. His tender but manly face of compassion, his thick eyebrows making the slightest expression of concern, if you didn't love him too much you would have trust issues, but you believed Hyunjin blindly.

You approached up to him and hugged him, he reciprocated the happy gesture, your heartbeats joining and the closeness of your body, Hyunjin was so in love that if there was a way to make you do it clearly, he would do it without thinking. Sex was not enough, he wanted to live inside you forever and he was so passionate about it that he wrote countless songs, you were his muse and the great love of his life.

You stood on your tiptoes and brought your arms up to wrap around his neck with a smile.

“Tomorrow, let's go to your favorite place in Greenwich Village, okay?” you said to him, letting your frustrations pass you by.

Hyunjin raised his eyebrows excitedly and smiled sweetly without showing his teeth.

“I'm dying to go… and to kiss you and make love to you while we play an Audrey Hepburn movie in the background…” he said slowly and flirtatiously, holding you tighter around the waist and leering at you from above.

You laughed softly as you remembered the first time you fucked in his apartment, where he promised a romantic movie date and ended up frantically pounding your pussy as he cummed in you.

Hyunjin leaned further into you, closing his eyes and kissing you fiercely, after a little over a minute, his sizzling kisses suddenly turned you on, making you weak in his arms. You hadn't had sex with Hyunjin for two long months, at this point you thought it was even abstinence, you needed him.

He continued to tease you with his deep, slow kisses as he groped your body and brazenly ran his hands under your dress, reaching down to your bare bottom wearing only panties and massaged your ass hard. You were starting to feel a mess of emotions, but luckily this time you finally had your boyfriend with you.

Hyunjin continued to squeeze you tightly, drawing you to his body and this time feeling that he was the same way you were, aroused. Hyunjin found his way to bring his dominant hand to your entrance, making you open your mouth slightly in a soft moan between the kiss. He pulled inches away from you, almost still almost touching your lips and you saw how attractive your boyfriend looked with his slightly intimidating gaze and fuller lips from your passionate kisses.

“I missed you so much” he said excitedly, nimbly pushing aside the fabric of your panties for better access to your area.

You lowered your hands from his neck and held onto his abdomen. Hyunjin was more turned on by the slight difficulty in caressing your pussy because you were standing still. You felt his long, slender, slightly raspy fingers, due the strings of his guitar, stroking along your tight, compressed folds and you spread your legs wider trying to facilitate his caresses, Hyunjin smirked smugly at the sight of you horny, licking his lips.

“Do you like it, love?” he sighed amused and excited.

You nodded awkwardly and didn't stop looking into his eyes for a second, but your peripheral vision caught perfectly his long arm guided in your area, you were losing more and more strength, every touch of Hyunjin made you lose your sanity, he was so skilled with his hands and fingers, after all he was a talented guitarist, you wanted to fuck him so desperately, to feel filled by him after such a long time. You didn't think about it and your hand also went to his prominent bulge, rubbing it gently, this time driving your boyfriend crazy. You stroked and squeezed the denim, he was so hard and at the same time his cock was so soft and slick, it always felt good.

Hyunjin sped up his rubbing on your clitoris, making you tremble a little, he leaned towards you bringing his foreheads together and looking at you sweetly.

“Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers, my sweet angel?” he said, as you felt his hot, heavy breathing hit your face.

“Yes” you moaned in between breaths.

Your boyfriend smiled sweetly, so innocent almost like he didn't seem to know exactly the distance from your labia to your entrance, slipping two of his fingers easily into your tight, wet hole. He gently fingered you, enjoying your caresses on his erection and being in control of your pleasure, occasionally looking smugly to his right side as you were in front of the mirror, watching your body tremble before him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult for you to stand, so your boyfriend, concerned looked for an immediate solution, looking at his dressing room chair.

“Sit down. Let me taste you, love” he whispered in your ear, gently pulling his hand away from you.

You were about to do so but a voice near you, interrupted you.

“Hyunjiiiin, come out, where are you? The Rolling Stone fuckers are about to arrive” you heard a rather familiar voice shout, as it slowly approached.

Hyunjin opened his eyes in fright, causing you tenderness, followed by a gasp of frustration.

“Shit, I can't show up to the interview like this” he groaned in frustration.

You looked at your boyfriend's large and noticeable erection in his pants, and you again directed your hand on it squeezing it gently and looked him submissively in the eyes.

“Let me help you, Jinnie” you said seductively, stroking his bulge to which he moaned.

“B-but” he was about to protest.

“Shh” you silenced him, giving him a quick kiss and a cocky grin.

And with no time to waste you got down on your knees in front of his cock, you were so aroused, your pussy was throbbing hard and your throat was suddenly dry and ready to be filled with boyfriend's stiff member. You loved giving him blowjobs, his cock was exquisitely long and Hyunjin always knew how to use it with agility at every strategic spot on you, he knew you so well. You nimbly pulled down his pants and underwear finding his well standing and sensitive manhood, your boyfriend whimpered, yes, he was excited to see you too.

You grasped the base of his penis with your right hand and gently held his balls with your other hand, you raised your gaze to Hyunjin, who was pressing his lips tightly together letting himself be carried away by your touches. You ran your hand over his slightly tanned cock, your mouth was salivating more and more and your poor pussy was also reacting for your boyfriend's erect cock. You had forgotten how it was the last time you sucked him off and you were more than happy to be able to do it again. You gently spat on its tip and lubed it further, jerking it off in the process, feeling its slippery, slightly rough texture; Hyunjin was panting hard, letting out deep sighs and moans from his chest, a completely vocal boy.

You stuck out your tongue a little and opened your mouth to flick his big piece of organ on your needed tongue, tasting a little of his nice white precum, until finally introducing it little by little in your mouth, making sure your lips also felt what was yours, Hyunjin's big cock, all yours. He was big and with a very good thickness, always filling your insides to overflowing, to your limit; you had it all with him, he was cute, romantic and gave you the best orgasms.

Hyunjin whimpered at the feeling of the inside of your soft cheeks caressing his cock and immediately held onto your hair delicately without pulling it.

“Aggh, sweetheart, it feels so good” he gasped.

“Hyunjin, where the fuck are you man?” they shouted again.

“Fuck” gasped your boyfriend frustrated by the situation and the tightness of his cock in your mouth.

You also felt the pressure, your blood flow rushing harder and your heart racing, you had to make your boyfriend cum fast; so you started sucking him hard and keeping a little faster pace than usual, back and forth, taking all his swollen and throbbing length expertly.

“Hyunjin” you heard again a call in the distance. “Hyunjin come out, the Rolling Stone magazine people are here.”

“I'm coming” he squealed out loud in a shuddering whimper, completely lost from the stimulation of his cock in your mouth, “I'm literally coming, what the fuck” moaned Hyunjin biting his lip and taking more tightly your hair, intensifying your movements, fucking your mouth wildly.

You felt your boyfriend's climax near, so he didn't hesitate to feel the bottom of your throat, pushing hard on your head until you felt his tickling glans rubbing your throat as your boyfriend gave gentle lunges, you whimpered on his cock, your eyes quickly watered, you couldn't breathe somehow and, after a few seconds, he pushed you away a little. Finally, you saw his head falling back, his thighs quivering and his perfect abdomen contracting as he babbled excitedly and barely understandable your name. Until you felt his glorious shot of cum in your mouth, filling you completely; Hyunjin always cum in one strong shot and then his cum kept coming slowly so you waited to have it all in you. He subtly stopped holding your hair tightly and gently pushed your head off his member; resulting in the obscene image of his shiny, lubricated cock spurting out of your mouth as more of his liquid fell to the floor.

You swallowed your boyfriend's thick, white liquid and stood up quickly, Hyunjin was trying to steady himself and think clearly again, but you recognized that he was in a hurry, that was the main reason you were sucking him fast and hard so he would ejaculate fast and also the reason you tried to quench your fiery desire and arousal, he had to continue being a rock star and doing rock star things.

“Come on, Hyunjin you have to go out” you told him.

Your boyfriend gently shook his head as he stared at you and reacted instantly, rearranging his cock back into his underwear and pulling up his pants, you watched the scene cheekily biting your lip, even without him being hard, you could clearly see the big package your boyfriend was hiding in his pants, you blushed and once again thought of all the fucking groupies fantasizing about fucking him.

Hyunjin took your face in his hands and made you look into his eyes, his sharp dark eyes that made him look so intimidating, if only they knew he was the most tender and you had him in the palm of your hand, so docile and obedient.

“I promise to reward you, okay?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Thank you for that, love, I love you.”

You nodded softly even with his grip on your cheeks, you watched him lovingly. And you watched him walk away, ready to go back to being the shining star Hwang Hyunjin.

[starlit-typewriter]

Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Part 9

Here it is part 9!

Takes a peek at my writing doc. Yep uh, plot is beginning.

Also I've done the most recent Archon quest and uh, Wow.

I uh, didn't expect to cry that hard.

But very glad that my fic is still technically canon compliant. Literally counting down the versions till a lore drop breaks what I have built.

Warning for Spoilers up to Genshin Impact 4.6

Masterlist | Prev Part | Next Part

~~~

Silver clouds float around lazily on a beautiful sparkling blue sky.��

From beyond the billow of misted water, a spark shines.

It glows brighter.

And faster.

It shoots down towards the sky, breaking the sea of clouds, leaving a gaping hole from where it burst through.

The spark becomes a star, flickering from blue to a brilliant gold, leaving trails of light as it descends towards Teyvat.

As it approaches, it shrinks, becoming smaller, but no less powerful.

A targeted stream of light, of energy.

It approaches a city, a harbor. 

You can feel the energy in the air, the hustle and bustle as humans galavant and frolic.

The sounds and smell of a festival, filled with raucous cheers and lively conversation.

The light ignores it all, heading straight towards a solitary figure.

A figure cloaked in brown and gold, strolling along the roads of this place.

A non human hiding in their midst.

They’re concealing their presence, but the light knows better. 

It can feel their raw power and strength.

This is the one they were looking for. 

It heads straight towards it, hitting their body with force, causing them to stumble in their tracks.

The light, no. The blessing burrows it’s way into this figure.

Mine

It purrs, settling inside their body, warming him from the inside, filling their body with power and energy. 

All Mine

~~~

Your eyes snap open as you jerk out of your trance.

Morax was still sitting there, quietly.

Observing you with those eyes.

Those calm arrogant eyes.

You hate them, you hate them so much.

“Do you remember now,” he asks.

You clench your fist, fingernails digging into your skin. 

You don’t want to believe him. On some level you still don’t.

However, you can’t deny that he has your power. 

That he was gifted with your power.

Blessed

But you don’t know why.

The unfortunate truth, something that Morax no doubt knows, is that you don’t have all your memories.

Azhdaha’s sacrifice gave you some of your powers back, but it’s far from what you used to have.

You remember a time when you were powerful.

When you created mountains and oceans.

When you could create living beings with a single touch.

Well, not a single touch, but you could still do it.

You remember an era of peace, of dragons.

But it’s all gone.

Destroyed.

All because of them.

But you don’t know how.

You don’t know why.

The anger and grief wells up in your chest. 

Your power responds accordingly, strumming under your skin, begging to be set free.

No,

You can’t.

Not now,

Not yet.

Later, you promise yourself.

Later, you will find out the truth and get your revenge.

~~~

“To the tales of the lyre, to the sweet dream of tonight!” A sweet melodious voice sang to the cheerful applause of the Angel’s Share patrons.

The teal figure bowed jauntily, waving his hat with a flourish.

Another successful night completed! 

The bard in question skipped over to the bar, offering its red headed owner his most charming smile. 

Alas his efforts were in vain as the Pyro wielder barely offered him a glance before going back to polishing glasses.

“Oh come on Master Diluc,” he weedled, offering his best puppy eyes. “Did my music not please your patrons ears, surely that deserves some complimentary beers”

“That’s exactly why I’m deducting some drinks from your tab,” He grumbled, “your unpaid tab, might I add.”

“In Angel’s Share I spend my time, in hopes of getting some dandelion wine,” he strummed, “Of varied notes, I sing so high, yet my sweet drink you so deny.”

“Let the bard drink,” Quinn cheered drunkenly, as did the rest of the tavern to Diluc’s chagrin.

The man tried to explain, only for the cheers and chants of the tavern to rise in volume, drowning his voice out. 

Mondstatians and their alcohol.

The tavern owner turned around with the most unimpressed face known to mankind.

Venit would be intimidated, but unfortunately for Diluc, he is not a man and has seen much much more unimpressed faces over the years.

The two stared each other down, one smug and the other exasperated, all the while the tavern’s chanting rose.

With a defeated sigh, the uncrowned king of Mondstadt pours the bard a glass of dandelion wine. 

The bard in question whoops in triumph. As does the rest of Angel’s Share as they celebrate his “Victory” with more drunken cheers and songs.

He knew the tavern owner wasn’t truly angry, exasperated and annoyed perhaps, but the man could never muster any real anger towards Venti.

A small bonus from him revealing his true identity of the Anemo Archon to him. 

For all his tough words against the Knights of Favonious, he was still a Mondstatder through and through. 

Whilst he did not have nearly as much presence in Mondstadt as the other nations did, and was proudly the weakest of them. The people of Mondstadt did not forget what he’s done for them and still recognize and worship him accordingly.

The wind spirit kicked his legs back and forth and he watched the redhead over the lip of his glass.

In terms of personality he really is nothing like his ancestor. Which makes sense of course, it’d be foolish to expect them to end up the same even though they have the same bloodline.

If anyone in Mondstadt were to have that title it would be the Acting Grandmaster.

Guiltily, he is glad that they differ.

To humans, gaining a vision is a great honor. Proof that their worth has been acknowledged by the gods.

He’s happy for them as well, whenever a Mondstater gains a vision.

But he won’t deny the seed of anxiety that sprouts in his heart as well.

Visions can make humans, gods among men.

But the world is made of more than just men. 

Humans may be many but are comparatively weak in the grand scheme of things.

Although, having numbers is its own form of strength.

Perhaps he isn’t giving humans enough credit. 

A lone human is weak, but a group of humans have a level of strength and fortitude that amazes even the gods.

He supposes that must be why the heavens protect them so.

Well, protect is a strong word.

They will do whatever it takes to ensure the continuation of humanity.

But they really won’t waste their time on individual humans.

Unless,

Well,

Visions are gifts for a reason.

Allogenes are rare, and are appropriately rewarded.

Not that visions are not a great boon.

He’s single handedly watched how visions save and change the lives of their wielders.

It’s simply what can come after.

It is extremely rare for an allogene to ascend to Celestia. That position is only reserved for the strongest of wills in all the lands.

Vanessa was one such will.

He knew it the moment he laid eyes on her. 

Her burning passion and desire to protect her people.

How could she not gain a vision, how could she not ascend.

It was why he stuck around, stayed by her side. 

Partially to ensure the safety of Mondstadt. 

Partially to see if there’s anything he could do to save her.

Not that there’s anything he could do, or dare do.

Her will was extraordinary during her life.

It's just beyonf that, that is the issue.

The gaze of Celestia is particularly strict when it comes to cases such as these. Any attempts to defy destiny will be met with swift retribution.

Celestia does love its retribution.

Any hint of disloyalty, or protest will be swiftly squashed.

There was always a bitter irony in his position as Archon.

He was strong enough to protect his people from gods and monsters and other humans.

But not Celestia.

Not one was strong enough to fight against Celestia, even the creator of this land fell to their lies and trickery.

He has no idea what the Tsaritsa could possibly be planning to think they stand a chance.

Perhaps that’s why she’s moving so quickly.

In hopes of finishing her plans before the Heavenly Principles awaken.

He wished her luck on that front.

Even though he may not have the courage to do the same.

He just wished she was less aggressive about it.

Honestly, she didn’t even bother asking him before sending Rosalyn to attack him.

In front of his own church no less.

Honestly the audacity

Although, to be fair, without that audacity she probably wouldn’t have dared to try going against Celesta. 

Her lack of contact with Celestia may have also played a role.

She is not a part of the original Seven after all.

Both he and Morax had visited Celestia firsthand upon their ascension to Archonhood.

It’s where they received their gnosis, their Archon robes and well.  

Where they’ve seen the true capabilities of Celestia.

Witnessed the lengths they’re willing to go to to squash any resistance.

On that front he understood Baal’s reasoning behind the Vision Hunt Decree.

While she may not have gone to Celestia herself and witnessed what the original seven did. He had no doubt that her sister passed on some warning to her before her death. 

It was smart.

If not ultimately misguided.

Sacrificing the few for the sake of the many.

Stifling a couple vision holders in exchange for the safety of her nation.

He understood the urge.

Disagreed with it, but understood it all the same.

The role of allogenes is essential to the survival of Teyvat.

Like it or not.

Without them, Teyvat would collapse.

Sacrificing the few for the many.

He despises it.

What Teyvat is built upon.

What it requires to function as it does now.

But he’s not strong enough to change any of it.

All he can do is wallow in the knowledge that Teyvat is-

The bard shakes his head vigorously to get rid of the path his thoughts are heading towards.

No,

Bad thoughts,

Not tonight,

Tonight is for fun.

Not, 

Well.

Anyways, he’s getting maudlin, that’s no good for such a festive night. 

He tips his glass back, emptying it of its contents.

The Dawn’s Winery quality is unparalleled.

As usual of course.

One of his pettier achievements to say the least.

When Morax announced his desire for Liyue to become the trading hub of Teyvat, and one of the most prosperous nations. Going on to monologue about how he will pave the way for business and prosperity using his contracts and all that blah blah blah.

Well, he couldn’t help but make fun of him about that, now could he.

Leading to Rex Lapis snapping back about how he can’t contribute anything to his nation beyond drunken songs.

Well jokes on him.

Mondstadt is now the nation of drunken songs. 

The best in fact.

Sure it could be considered a waste of time to change the water in Mondstadt specifically so that it would be the best for wine brewing.

But the wine industry is now one of Mondstadt's main sources of revenue.

It was a calculated business decision and completely not related to the grumbling of some winemakers about having to purify the water multiple times to get a good yield.

A familiar presence approaches, the wind whispers.

Venti perks up as he hears a familiar set of footsteps approach.

“Tone deaf Bard,” an excitable voice exclaimed. “I knew he’d be here.”

The bard in question swiveled around in his seat to face the Traveler and Paimon, pasting a cheerful smile on his face.

“Traveler, we meet again, why don’t you sit down, we can share a drink or ten.”

The golden haired teen rolled their eyes at his, admittedly cheesy rhyme.

“I need your help with something,”

Their voice is serious.

In all honesty he hasn’t seen them this serious since what happened with Dvalin.

Venti took a quick peek over at Master Diluc, still serving other customers, great!.

He quickly slipped out of his seat and followed the Traveler out of the Angel’s Share.

Once they’ve reached an appropriately secluded spot, they turned to him.

Paimon and the Traveler exchange glances.

This must be pretty serious for even Paimon to sober up like that.

“Venti,” they ask, “We need to ask you and Dvalin a favor.”

Me, and Dvalin?

What could-

“The creator of Teyvat is back.”

~~~

Masterlist | Prev Part | Next Part

I was thinking of doing something special for part 10, haven't really decided but I'll keep you guys posted.

Thanks so much for your kind words of encouragement.

You guys are the only reason I've gotten this far in the story so far.

As always my askbox is open, for any questions, theories, etc etc

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[deliciousangelfestival]

His Silly Princess | Bucky (Oneshot)

Character: Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Words Count: 1,671

Summary: A modern royal love story. A naive princess who wants to get away from an arranged marriage. She never knew that her guard had loved her since the beginning. 

Main Masterlist || support me: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Zylovia is a country where monarchy still exists. It’s a developed country located near Western Europe. 

It’s a prosperous country, and the number of unemployed is also the lowest. Tourists love coming here for the casino, race car, and music festival. 

But this country has one outdated rule. It didn’t apply to the citizens. Only for the royal family. 

“If the female royal member marries a commoner, she will lose her status."

You learned that rule when you were 12 years old as the youngest siblings and Princess Zylovia. You didn't put a deep thought into it. 

But now, when you are almost 30 years old, and your older siblings are already married, you think this is good for you.

Because you realize you’re not fit to do the duty as a princess. 

Your oldest brother has prepared since he was a kid to be the king. When he reaches the age of 40, he will be crowned as the king. Your second brother will be the second commander in the military. 

While you have a job as a painting conservator at the museum, your duty as a princess is to welcome the official foreign guest at the castle. You learned some languages, but you’re not allowed to give any opinion on politics.

You don’t hate being a royal, but sometimes you feel like living in a golden cage. 

And finally, you had enough because, on your recent birthday, your parents talked to you about marriage. 

The king and queen don’t want to be separated from their youngest daughter, but they hint that they wish for her future husband from the royal circle. In other words: arranged marriage. 

You clenched your jaw while smiling at your parents. If the man from the royal circle is a real gentleman, you wouldn’t mind. 

But the problem is, please pardon the harsh language; none of the men from the royal family are your type. 

Your type of man must have a stable job, look good in suits, and have a nice body. 

That’s why, for a couple of days, you’ve made a list of potential future husbands. After you write it, you realize most of the men are from the knights. Perhaps because you always went to meet your second brother at the military training ground, so you know some people. 

Steve Rogers

[Friendly, not married, nerd, loves to paint like me]

Ari Levinson 

[Funny, beautiful hair, handsome]

‘Knock, knock!’ Suddenly, someone knocked on your door.

“Come in.”

You didn’t have to turn around to see who it was. You have known him for years, and your ears are familiar with the sound of his footsteps. 

The person who walked into your room has been your exclusive bodyguard for years - James Barnes, but you always call him Bucky his nickname. 

Bucky is a commoner and an elite soldier. If there’s a shooting competition, he will be in the top three. Your second brother always hates him. 

He has received many medals of honors, but he rejects a knight title from your father. You don’t understand why he declined the offer. If he received it, he could enter politics, and he doesn’t have to follow her around anymore. 

He’s tall, handsome, with perfect blue eyes and has fine muscles on his body. Bucky also has a primarily female fanbase when he wears the military uniform and rides a horse at the independence ceremony. 

He became a celebrity overnight.

But you have never seen or heard any rumor about him with a woman. 

“Your highness, in two hours you are going to attend the tennis tournament.” 

You dropped the pen and dropped your head to the table. “Urgh. Do I have to?”

Bucky chuckled when he saw you unwilling to go. One thing you hate about your duty is to be the guest at the tennis game. You prefer to watch the race car, but it's reserved for your brother's. 

Even though you didn’t want to go, you still dragged your feet to the dressing room to grab your coat. 

When you were searching for the right outfit, you suddenly remembered. “Oh no!” You didn’t hide the potential list that you just wrote. You wish you could dig your own grave and disappear. 

And you were right; Bucky saw your writing. He furrowed his eyebrows while he read your paper. “What’s this? Potential man for marriage?”

You stand beside him; you don’t know why you feel scared. This is the first time you have seen him like this. 

His slender, pointed fingers scratched the two names with his nails. There’s a big X on your paper. 

“Don’t marry any of those men.”

“Why?”

A small smile appeared on his lips, along with a soft voice, “Steve hasn’t moved on from his last girlfriend, and Ari, he loves to drink alcohol. I know you hate the smell of alcohol.”

You felt disappointed; you crumpled the paper and threw it into the trash.

“Marriage? Why all of a sudden?” There's an annoyed tone in his voice.

You rubbed your head and muttered, “I need to get married sooner, or my parents will arrange marriage for me, their friend's kid. And you know the truth, I had enough of being a princess.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “But, why them?”

“What?”

He clenched his fist; Bucky stared at her with an annoyed expression. “Why didn't you put me on the list?”

“....”

You waved your hand. “It doesn’t matter, as long as I got married.”

“So, would you like to marry me?”

Are you having hallucinations? Did Bucky just propose to you?

Bucky got on his knees. “Let’s get married.”

You still haven’t come to your senses. Bucky started talking again. “Think about it. Both of us have known each other for a long time. We’ve known each other's likes and dislikes. We’ve been through many things together.”

He’s right. He’s the safest choice if you want to marry someone. You shrugged your shoulders and accepted his hand. “Alright.”

Bucky's beautiful smile appeared on his face. Before he shook your hand, he felt you slightly pull his hand. When you saw him smile, your heart raced. “But, if in the end, we don’t like each other, please wait after three years, then we could get a divorce.”

Bucky chuckled; his attractiveness is not just in his physical appearance but also in his ability to manage his emotions gracefully and restraintfully. He leaned closer to you, and his hands gently grabbed your chin. 

As his calloused hand touched your skin, a subtle warmth spread on your cheeks. You could feel you're blushing. “Silly girl, it will never happen.”

#######

[Bucky P.O.V]

Then he rests your arms on his. “Then you have the excuse to skip the tournament.”

“Hmm?”

“We should inform this first to His Majesty and Her Majesty.”

“Oh, right.” You nodded, then looked straight into his blue eyes again. “This soon?”

********

When both of you walk through the hallway to meet the King and Queen, Bucky tries his best to calm down. He almost lost his common sense when he saw you write another man's name, and there’s a word of ‘potential husband.’

He looks at you and thinks ‘his silly princesses didn’t realize his feelings for her.’ 

Didn’t she know he declined the offer to be a knight so he could be her guard?

If he became a knight, he would work with her second brother. That’s the last thing he wants to do. 

“So, Bucky, don’t worry about money. When I resign as a princess, the kingdom will give us money.”

Bucky chuckled, seeing his sweet princess worried about their future, “That’s so sweet of you. But you don’t need to worry about that.” He gently patted her arms. He wants to tell you that he owns the famous casino in this kingdom and 5-star hotel chains in a few countries.

When both of you are married, Bucky will ensure you don’t have to work anymore. He is pretty sure that her parents will give their blessings even though he’s a commoner (and he’s super rich). The royal family has outdated rules, but because of it, he could marry you. 

Both of you arrived at the king's office room. The guards bowed their heads to greet you. Then you said, “Princesses Y/N and her guard. Wait… and her future husband, James Barnes wants to meet the king.”

The guards and the butler who opened the door lost their composure. They should have known from your body language walking here together hand in hand when usually Bucky always stands behind you. 

This news is shocking compared to the crown prince, who got caught partying too hard and the second prince, who had a messy love life before he got married. 

It seems like your father, the King, hears your voice. Before the castle butler tells him, you hear the gentle voice, “Come in.”

########

[2 years later]

<Former Princess of Zylovia Y/N, blessed with male twins>

It's the biggest headline in the country after you gave birth. You feel overwhelmed; you can't believe that you're parents now. 

The King and Queen hold your oldest son, while Bucky has the youngest son in his arms. 

Bucky's eyes are full of love, looking both at his sons. He was almost scared to death since you gave birth one month early. But the doctor assured both of you this is normal since you're pregnant with twins. 

Even though you're not a princess, you're still surrounded by your family. 

And Bucky still treats you like a princess. You almost lost your mind when he told you his business, which turned into your parents, and your brothers already know it, too. 

You want to knock your head; you didn't even know Bucky's business helped increase the country's GDP. 

Everyone said Bucky was the lucky guy to marry the former princess, but they were wrong. It's you who is lucky to marry him.

-End-

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[t-lostinworlds]

The Grump & The Drunk | Miguel O'Hara

》 PAIRING: miguel o'hara x spider-woman!reader

》 TROPE/GENRE: grumpy x (drunk) sunshine, fluff, humor

》 SUMMARY: You were clingy, feisty with no filter when you're drunk. Miguel had front row seat of it—literally. You're lucky he didn't mind. In fact, he was glad it was him and not anyone else. The thought made him seethe in jealousy even though you technically were not his girl. But he wasn't sure if that still rang true after tonight's drunken confession (or that make-out session).

》 WARNINGS: alcohol consumption, soft!miguel (also emotionally constipated!miguel but what's new), r calls him miggy to tease him, height difference (he's 6'9" he's an effin giant), r thirsts over him in front of his face lol, some innuendos, brief argument about feelings, overall very cute and fluffy.

》 WORD COUNT: 6.1k+

A/N: can anyone guess what movie i watched recently. is anyone surprised that i liked the grump with a side of trauma lmao. ANYWAY. this is the first time i'm writing miguel so pls be nice. wrote this fairly quickly too and it's barely proofread sooo. but i hope you still enjoy it!

📍 BLOG NAVIGATION ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

It was late.

Quiet.

Well, for now, at least.

Moments like these were rare to come by, where there wasn't much to do except to let things happen. The multiverse was stable enough not to need any intervention.

It usually was the epitome of the calm before the storm.

Nevertheless, everyone—well, those left at HQ and weren't on stakeout—in the Spider Society took advantage of it.

There was always some sort of activity going on during these types of days. Most of it were small get-togethers in the cafeteria, or perhaps a low-key karaoke in the cinema room. Other times it was much more on the nose.

Right now, there was a party held on the rooftop.

The music was blaring—muffled for him, thanks to his soundproofing—as it jumped from genre to genre depending on who successfully bribed the DJ.

It was rowdy—that he was sure of. What, with the modified alcohol strong enough to affect any Spider-Person as if they weren't enhanced, how could it not be?

Miguel wasn't one for festivities. Not to mention, strobe lights always gave him bad migraines. So after showing face for about ten minutes—he wouldn't have shown up at all but was begged to go by someone he couldn't say no to—he decided to call it a night.

Well, back to his…Spider-Cave.

He was sure there would be copyright issues if that was made official.

But it was dubbed by you so it simply stuck.

You, with bright eyes and a sweet smile as you pleaded for him to come with you to the rooftop even if it was "just a couple minutes, please?"

You, who wore a simple yet gorgeous black dress as you all but dragged him into the elevator, bouncing with excitement because it was going to be your first party here at HQ.

You, who enthusiastically sipped on your Pink Señorita—a margarita with pink lemonade—giddy to feel the buzz of the alcohol after years of being unable to.

You, who was so joyful and uncaring as you danced to your heart's content when your favorite song came on, right in the middle of the floor, shining as bright as the sun as the others revolved around you.

Miguel only watched from the sidelines, his chest aching with longing. So close but out of reach because he couldn't.

He'd only put a damper on your light.

It wasn't a matter of if, it was a matter of when.

He couldn't do that to you.

Soft spot.

Miguel had very few of those.

Anyone who dared to give their opinion on his life with the bravery to say it right to his face said one was occupied by you.

Some would even imply that you held the biggest one.

And sure, the first time Lyla scouted you and suggested for you to be recruited into the Spider Society he might've said yes far too quickly than he should've. But that was only because he saw the way you took down a sector of the Maggia all on your own. He was thoroughly impressed.

There were also times when he let you get away with annoying him scot-free. Whether that was teasing, various nicknames, talking his ear out for hours as you refused to leave him alone to do work, and sometimes even pranks. If it were any other person doing the same things you would've done, they would be leaving the premises at least fearing their life.

He also let you spend time around his magic carpet—as you so unoriginally named it. You were constantly testing those copyright issues—quite often to the point that some of your stuff had migrated the space. There were little trinkets scattered around, evidence that you'd been here.

Miguel finally bought a desk chair perfectly suited for his big and tall stature all because you complained about not having anywhere to sit while you were up here with him.

It was more your chair than it was his, to be honest, since you definitely sat on it far more than he had.

Sure, he could've bought an extra one for you but he didn't want to encourage the teasing—that had been nonstop since you waltzed into his life—that he was playing favorites.

He preferred to stand while he worked, anyway.

Fine.

He could kinda see why many people would say he had a soft spot for you.

Speaking of…

Miguel could hear you before he could even see you.

You were giggling to yourself, followed by poor attempts at whispered apologies when you knocked over something or bumped against something else.

It made him worry a little.

Sure, you were too enthusiastic for his liking, all optimism and sunshine despite everything that you had gone through—it harshly contrasted with his personality.

But he wouldn't particularly classify you as clumsy.

He waited for you to call for him, anticipating which way you'd say it this time around. Your most recent one was: "O'Hara, O'Hara, let down your floating chair."

You thought you were really funny with that one.

But silence.

No cheeky way of asking him to let you come up.

Where'd you go?

Suddenly, he heard a very annoyed and frustrated groan, prolonged and all dramatic.

Then, that familiar thwip rang in the air.

You couldn't have been more impatient.

He was aware of exactly where you were, shooting your webs in random directions so long as you hit a column that took you higher and higher. But even if he didn't have his enhanced senses, your constant giggling would give you away.

Yet as loud as you had already been, your shriek was even louder.

Miguel didn't hesitate to jump off the platform.

His heart was pounding as he clocked your falling figure, adrenaline and fear all at once.

You looked dazed in your freefall, unable to comprehend that your cartridges were empty as you kept trying to shoot your webs.

In the nick of time, he caught you by the waist—upside down.

He let out a huge sigh of relief at the same time you turned into heaps of giggles.

"This isn't how I imagined us getting into this position," you snorted as if you weren't dangling a couple of feet above the ground, feet in the air, arms limp and swaying. "Wow…your thigh is bigger than my head!"

Miguel's whole body warmed, not only from your comments but also because you were still in your dress.

Thank fuck it wasn't a loose skirt.

Not that he would ever look. He might be a bit of a grump—temperamental at times, he'll admit—but he was still a gentleman.

Though he was glad you couldn't see the obvious fluster on his face given your current upside-down predicament.

He'd never hear the end of it.

"I'm flipping you around," he said.

"Like a pancake?"

He didn't answer. He simply tossed you into the air, your squeal echoing off the walls. He caught you again but the right way up this time—your hands clinging onto his shoulders, legs around his waist.

Miguel tried not to dwell on your closeness as he shot a web and pulled you both back up.

"You flipped me like a pancake!" you giggled, stumbling onto the platform once you reached it.

What on earth is going on with you?

One look in your eyes, his unspoken question was swiftly answered.

"Widely irresponsible to swing while drunk," he reprimanded, arms crossed over his chest.

You blew a raspberry, waving your hand dismissively. "Am not drunk."

"Then why did I have to save you from falling head-first into the ground?"

"I slipped!"

"You could've just called me to let the platform down."

"And have it take so fucking long?"

Miguel blinked.

Oh you were so drunk.

"I know it's an intimidating tactic or whatever the fuck it is you're doing. Either way, it's a choice, but it doesn't have to be so damn slow, Miggy!"

"I told you to stop calling me that," he said, no heat in his tone. He simply couldn't stand the way his heart did a funny thing whenever he'd hear that nickname slip past your lips.

"Sorry, sir," you said, sarcasm lacing each letter.

Miguel took a deep breath.

"Don't call me that, either," he said, voice an octave deeper.

You rolled your eyes, completely oblivious to the effect you had on him. "Someone's extra grumpy today."

"Night."

"What?"

"It's night."

"Pfft, you know, you should loosen up your suit," you said, waving at all of him. "Maybe the tightness is making you grumpier somehow, suffocating your muscles and everything."

"The tightness of my suit has nothing to do with my mood."

"Could've fooled me," you scoffed, glaring at him from head to toe. "You're probably chafing in weird places and it's making you irritable. I bet—no, I know you're naked underneath because even though I haven't seen you naked I can still see…stuff, many stuff, big stuff, you know, imagination and not leaving any and shit."

"Dios mío," he grumbled in disbelief, rubbing a palm over his warm face. "How drunk are you?"

"Zero percent-o, Miguelito."

He bit back a smile.

"Could've fooled me," he said, raising a brow at you.

"Don't you dare throw my words back at me," you warned, attempting to appear threatening with your chest puffed out, chin raised as you got all up in his face. You slumped with a pout a second later. "You are so fucking tall!"

"And you are so drunk."

"M'not!"

"Uh-huh, sure," he hummed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh I am very sure—Miguel, can you sit down," you complained, brows deeply furrowed as you tried grabbing onto his shoulders, urging him to settle on the chair.

He decided to mess with you a little, planting his feet firmly so you weren't able to budge him even with your enhanced strength.

Your inebriated state wasn't helping your case.

It was the first time he ever got to see you annoyed and he actually found it cute. What, with your brows deeply furrowed and that pout in full play, huffing and puffing as you pushed at his chest with your full body strength, how could he not?

"Miggy sit the fuck down!" you growled.

He resisted the urge to laugh, throwing his hands up as he obliged, "Okay, okay, I'm sitting."

Now, he was the one looking up at you.

Yet you still looked frustrated.

"Is that not any better?" he asked, confused.

"No," you mumbled, glaring down at him, pout still prominent.

The next thing he knew, you were already grabbing onto his shoulders, pushing yourself up the chair.

You sat right on his lap.

Miguel was rarely surprised these days, considering what he did for a living.

But he sure as hell wasn't prepared to have you on top of him.

He could almost feel his brain short-circuit, taking a bit more time and effort for it to get its bearings back into place.

But then, you turned shy, eyes blinking at him all wide with shock as if you didn't know that climbing onto his lap resulted in him and you being so close.

"Hi," you whispered.

"Hello," he murmured, fingers twitching to hold you. He gripped the armrest instead. "Can I ask what exactly it is you're doing?"

"What…was I doing?" you questioned, almost to yourself, scanning the nearly non-existent space between you both before your face lit up. "Oh! I'm trying to talk to you without spraining my neck, genius."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah! You try talking to a six-foot-nine Adonis of a man and see if your neck doesn't hurt after a while."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Adonis, huh?"

"Not like that," you quickly said, voice shyer. "I mean like…huge, muscular, a-and plump."

"Plump?"

"Yeah!" You nodded enthusiastically, pressing your palms right on top his chest, one on each pec. "You've got plump boobs and ass."

He almost choked on air.

"What has gotten into you?" he asked, thoroughly amused.

"You, hopefully."

"Diosito, ayúdame," he muttered, resisting the temptation to take your word for it. You were drunk. You had no idea what you were saying.

Miguel shook his head when you stared at him confused, still slow on your Spanish. Then again, he'd only ever taught you a few phrases so far.

"How many lemonades did you have?" he asked instead.

"Why are you asking me so many questions!" you groaned, head thrown back as dramatically as you could. "It's my turn to ask questions!"

"Fine," he sighed, ignoring the urge to nip at your exposed skin. He heavily disregarded the thoughts that brewed in his head from the way you were innocently squirming on him, trying to get more comfortable, your skirt hiking up in the process.

He was good at keeping his composure, mastered it after years. He could do it for a couple of minutes more.

"Why'd you disappear?" you sighed.

"Too bright. Too loud."

"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?"

"You were having fun. Didn't want to spoil your mood," he stated the obvious. "Besides, my absence didn't affect anything."

"But it did," you insisted, bottom lip jutting out. "Was gonna ask you to dance."

His brow rose at that. "And what made you think I'll say yes?"

"You always say yes," you said, shrugging as if it was a known fact to the universe.

If it was you asking? Maybe.

He honestly felt a little glad he left the party early. He wouldn't even dare to imagine the outcome if he was seen out on the dance floor with you.

He would much prefer it with no audience—just you and him.

"I don't always say yes."

You narrowed your eyes, obviously not believing him by one bit.

But you didn't bother to argue.

Instead, you plopped forward, arms wrapping around his shoulders, face pressed against his neck.

Miguel froze.

He honestly didn't know what to do with himself.

Well, he wanted to do so many things at once, he just didn't know if he should—too many boundaries, too dangerous to cross.

A battle between logic and emotions.

You chose for him, though.

"Will you just—" You pulled his arms off the armrest, wrapping it around you instead. "Want cuddles, please."

How could he say no?

And for the first time in a long while, Miguel finally let himself go.

Body relaxing into the seat, he pulled you a little closer, palms rubbing soft patterns on your back as he pressed his cheek against the side of your head.

It had been so long since he'd cuddled with someone, so maybe his judgment was a little skewed. But still, he didn't remember it feeling this lovely—not until now.

Or maybe because it was you.

And if he didn't know any better, he'd say you were purring.

"Comfortable?" he hummed, rubbing the tip of his nose against your crown.

You nodded, taking a deep breath, humming soon after, "I've always wondered just how nice you smell up close."

He couldn't stop the flush that crept up his face.

"You're warm," you whispered, rubbing your face against his neck like a cat.

It made him wonder if you'd been hanging around Spider-Cat too much—or Meows Morales.

He'd rather not think about it.

Instead, he commanded his suit to uncover his hands, one less barrier between his palm and your skin. The fabric of your dress did very little to conceal your warmth as he continued giving you comforting rubs.

It made you bury yourself deeper into his arms as if you could go any further.

"This feels nice," you murmured, voice muffled against him.

He hummed in agreement.

You both settled into a comfortable silence after that.

But if he listened closely, the steady thump of your heartbeat was soft against his ears. He found the sound relaxing, and the minuscule romantic part of him imagined it was syncing with his own.

A peaceful rhythm.

Your soft breaths tickled his skin as you snuggled closer, his smile unabashedly painted on his face.

No one was here to see it, anyway.

After a few more moments of calmness, he assumed you'd already fallen asleep. He was already preparing himself to carry you across universes and back home when you suddenly spoke up,

"Can I touch your fangs?"

He blinked.

"What?"

You shifted, pulling back a little so that you could meet his eyes, face so close your noses almost touched.

"Your fangs," you repeated.

Before he could even respond, your hands were already on his face, one thumb lifting the corner of his lip while your other hand found his chin, holding him still.

"Wanna feel how sharp they are," you muttered, opting to use both hands now to pull his lips and expose his canines.

"Very sharp and dangerous," he chuckled despite himself, gently grabbing your wrists to stop your prodding. "Just take my word for it."

"You're pretty when you smile," you said, beaming and proud as if seeing his fangs was an accomplishment.

He rolled his eyes, unable to stop himself from grinning.

You smiled wider in return.

Holding your hands between you both, he absentmindedly started stroking your palms with his thumb.

It guided your gaze toward it.

"Your hands are naked!" you gasped, grabbing his wrists and bringing his fingers up to your face, wonder and awe in your eyes as if it was the first time you'd seen them without cover—it wasn't.

You'd seen him in casual clothes before.

Miguel couldn't stop his laugh from escaping even if he tried.

"I didn't know you could do that!" you said, fully amazed before your brows furrowed, pout coming back. "Why can't my suit do that? I have to get all naked just to feel my fingers."

He didn't dwell on that picture.

"I'll tweak it for you if you'd like," he said instead.

Your whole face brightened.

"Really? You'd do that?" you giddily gasped, bringing his hands up to press your palms against his like a double high five. The way your hand was much smaller than his made his heart warm.

He interlaced your fingers together. "Really."

"We're going to make a suit together!" you laughed, lovely and sweet. "That's a big big step."

He chuckled, gaze carefully tracing your beautiful features, each curve and divot glowing with happiness. He felt tempted to count every perfectly imperfect mark that littered your skin, wanting to know if it was there naturally, or if there was a story behind it.

It was supposed to be a swift glance.

He didn't mean to settle too long on your lips.

Nor did he plan to get caught.

"Stop staring," you whispered shyly.

"You're right in front of my face," he deflected, eyes back on yours.

"I know but…" You trailed off, shifting slightly, the tips of your noses brushing in the process.

"But?" he softly prodded.

"You're looking at me weird."

"How so?"

"Like…" you started, voice dropping into a whisper as if you were disclosing a secret. "You want to kiss me."

He couldn't even bother to deny the truth.

"I'll stop staring," he hummed, words holding no weight as he never removed his eyes from you.

"No!" you protested, turning flustered a second later, shyer when he smirked.

"I thought it was weird?" he teased.

"'Weird' was the wrong word," you said, scrunching your nose in thought. Adorable. "I meant different."

"How different?"

"I don't know," you admitted, leaning a little closer. "But I like it."

"Oh, do you, now?"

"Yeah," you breathed out, hands finding their way to gently cup his cheeks.

Miguel leaned into your touch with a soft smile. "Now who's staring?"

"It's because I want to kiss you," you admitted shamelessly. Your fingers traced the outline of his lips, your eyes following their path.

Miguel kissed your fingertips.

You leaned down and kissed him.

He gasped, eyes wide in shock.

A split second, they fluttered shut, head tilting, whole body melting as he kissed you back.

He spent countless amounts of time daydreaming about this moment, different scenarios, wondering what you tasted like, how it'd make him feel. But fuck—nothing could ever compare to the real thing.

It was so many things all at once.

Relief, hunger, satisfaction, desperation, fondness, fear, mind stopping, heart beating faster, soft lips, warm skin, so lovely, so sweet, so fucking addicting.

Now that he'd gotten a taste, he couldn't get enough.

Miguel cupped the back of your neck, arm snaking around your waist to keep you steady, close.

Your hand held onto his shoulder, the other finding its way into his hair, your fingers combing through the strands.

He lost any sense of control when you pulled.

Gripping your hips, he teased his tongue against the seam of your lips, slipping it in the second you opened up for him.

He groaned at your taste.

You whimpered in response.

The sound made him want to devour you.

But then you started moving your hips.

It was awakening, in more ways than one.

But the rational part of him prevailed because it was for your sake.

He pulled away, gently grabbing your chin, when you tried going back in.

"Slow down," he rasped, holding your waist and keeping you still. "Estás borracho, corazón."

"You know I don't understand," you breathed out, chest heaving, lips all plump and tempting.

"You're drunk, sweetheart," he clarified.

"I don't care," you whined, squirming.

He cupped your face in both hands.

"I do."

You pouted.

"Don't do that."

"I'm not doing anything."

"Don't pout," he sighed.

"I'm not pouting," you denied.

"You are," he said, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip.

Your pout only turned more prominent.

The beep of the clock broke him out of his trance.

It was midnight.

Miguel stood up, taking you with him before gently urging you to stand on your own two feet.

"It’s late. You should go," he said monotonously and stepped back.

You frowned.

He looked away.

"Why do you always do this?"

You were frustrated—no, you were getting angry.

He turned his back on you, eyes on the holograms even though there was nothing worth looking at.

"Do what?" he said, acting oblivious.

"Confuse the fuck out of me," you said, loud with frustration. "You act cold and distant one minute and then you're being nice and sweet the next. You keep your distance but then call me all these cute nicknames sometimes—and yes, you say them in Spanish but I asked Lyla about it once and she told me what they meant."

Traitor—thrown under the bus by his own invention.

"But then sometimes you give in and we get closer but the second I chip your walls you push me away," you continued, getting angrier by the second. "I thought things were getting better between us. But now, you won't even fucking look at me even after we just kissed—"

"You kissed me."

"You kissed me back!" you screamed.

It took him by surprise.

You had never raised your voice, much less yelled at anyone.

But honestly? There was no one else who deserved it more than him.

Slowly turning around, his heart sank when he met your tear-filled eyes.

By instinct, he reached out to try and comfort you.

It only made you angrier.

"You're doing it again!" you growled and stepped back, hands balled into fists.

Miguel stopped, hands up in surrender.

"I'm just trying to protect you," he softly said.

"Protect me?" you scoffed. "Or protect yourself?"

"I'm doing what's best for you," he reasoned, wanting nothing more than to wipe your tears away and kick his own ass for making you cry in the first place.

"You don't know that!"

"Maybe," he said, hands dropping to his sides, dejected. "But I know myself.

"Someone like me shouldn't be with someone as pure and as bright as you."

"No one gets to decide who I should and shouldn't be with," you gritted, taking long strides until you were squaring up to him. "No one but me. That's my choice."

Despite your boiling anger, despite the fact that you were glaring at him in a way that should scare him, despite the absolute animosity that lingered in your voice, your next words couldn't have brought the most opposite reaction from him.

"And I want to be with you."

Happiness, warmth, euphoria—the few things that made his heart burst at the seams.

But Miguel shook his head, eyes dropping to the ground, quickly stomping down emotions.

"I'm only going to end up hurting you," he sighed, pacing back and forth as he rubbed a frustrated hand over his warm face.

"I trust you that you won't."

"Well, you shouldn't," he insisted, eyes filled with longing, wanting to pull you close and taste your lips again despite his words saying otherwise. "You deserve so much better."

"If you believe that so fucking much then be better."

With that, you turned on your heel.

So many things flashed before his eyes, one of which was if he let you walk away now, he was going to lose you, for good.

He fucking panicked.

So much so that he jumped—right over your head.

You squeaked in shock when he landed in front of you.

Miguel didn't waste a second.

He grabbed your face and kissed you senseless.

You stumbled back, Miguel quickly webbing the chair, pulling it just in time for you to land on the cushion.

Not once did his lips leave yours.

He was bending over, hands grabbing the backrest, trapping you against it. You cupped his face, a shiver running down his spine when you trailed your hands down his chest.

But then you gently pushed him back.

He ignored the ache in his heart as he pulled away.

Miguel dropped to his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his, placing a kiss on each palm before he pressed it against his cheeks.

"I want to be with you so badly," he confessed, eyes never leaving yours so you could see it—all of him at your mercy.

"But I'm scared," he whispered, leaning into your touch. "I'm terrified that all I'll ever do is fail you, that I will never end up being the man that you deserve."

"How would you know if you won't try?" you said, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones with the sweetest smile. "And I know you think otherwise, but you deserve to be happy, too."

Miguel didn't know what to say.

So he didn't.

He kissed you instead.

It was slow, reassuring, a soft touch of your lips on his, but never less passionate.

He would've opted to deepen it a little more, but then you downright yawned between the kiss.

And here he thought you couldn't get cuter.

"You need sleep," he chuckled.

"I don't wanna go home," you grumbled, burying yourself into his chest. "It's too far."

"My room, then?" he offered.

You quickly nodded. He could almost feel you grinning against his suit.

He kissed your forehead. "Come on, let's get you to bed."

"Bed?" you gasped, emerging out of your hiding spot to wriggle your brows at him teasingly. "Gosh, take me out to dinner first."

"What am I going to do with you," he grumbled, shaking his head

"Many things, I hope."

He rolled his eyes, pressing the button to let the platform down.

"Miggy, can you give me a piggyback ride?" you asked, pouting for good measure. "I'm tired."

He sighed, turned around and crouched down.

"He doesn't always say yes he said," you giggled.

"Are you getting on or not?"

"Okay, okay, geez." You grabbed his shoulders and hoisted yourself on his back, arms around his neck, legs around his waist. Cheek pressed against his shoulder, you grinned. "Always eager to have me ride you, huh?"

His face warmed.

"I'll drop you if you won't stop."

"No you won't."

Miguel loosened his grip.

You yelped, quickly tightening your hold around him.

"You're so mean!"

He chuckled, turning his head as much as he could and puckering up his lips.

You giggled as you gave him a chaste kiss, pressing your cheek in between his shoulder blades with a deep sigh.

"Lyla, please send extra blankets and pillows to my quarters," he said, smiling to himself when you suddenly got heavier on his back.

He was sure you'd already fallen asleep.

Lyla appeared in front of him a second later, her grin far too wide for his liking.

"Not a single word about this to anyone," he interrupted whatever it was she was starting to say. "Please. Just…give us time to figure this out."

"Gotcha, boss," she said. "But for the record, I'm doing it for her."

"Good."

•••

You squinted at the bright glare that roused you from your sleep. You always close the curtains, it was part of your nightly routine. Why did you forget it this time?

Sitting up, you flopped back down with a deep groan.

Your head was pounding.

Hungover.

You didn't miss this part of drinking at all.

After a few moments, you slowly opened your eyes, the ceiling looking too unfamiliar.

Glancing down, the color of the sheets wasn't the sky blue you recently changed it into. As a matter of fact, that bed was much bigger than you were used to.

This wasn't your room.

In fact, this wasn't your world.

"What did I do?" you whispered, glancing at the nightstand. You saw the tall glass of water first, then the few pills of aspirin.

It was the framed picture that made you realize where you were.

This was Miguel's room.

Memories from last night came rushing in like a train, using your brain as railroad tracks which made your headache worse.

You quickly gulped down the water and meds, throwing the blankets off of you only to flush at the discovery.

Boxer shorts and a huge jacket—you were wearing his clothes.

Stumbling into the en suite, your heart warmed at the extra toothbrush that was already waiting for you.

You quickly made yourself as presentable as possible before making your way to the only place you knew he would be at this time of day.

First to clock in, last to clock out.

The platform was already down when you got there.

It was as if he was waiting for you.

"Morning, sleepy head," Miguel greeted without looking away from the screens.

"Good morning," you responded shyly. You picked at the hem of his jacket, second-guessing your choice of not changing out of it.

You honestly didn't know where to even begin.

As if sensing your discomfort, he turned his chair to face you.

Something flashed in his eyes for a brief moment, something primal as he regarded your figure. It was gone the next second you might as well have imagined it.

"Come here," he murmured, reaching out both hands for you to take.

Walking over to him, you slipped your hands into his, the platform beginning its ascend once you did.

You gasped in surprise when he suddenly pulled you onto his lap.

He placed your hands on his shoulders, his strong fingers curling around your waist.

You couldn't look him far too long in the eyes.

It felt like you'd combust if you did.

"What, now you're shy?" he teased, smirking freely. It was a good improvement, but you didn't know if your heart could take it having him smile at you like that. "You didn't seem to have a problem with this last night."

"Don't remind me," you groaned, hiding your face between your hands.

Miguel chuckled.

God this was so new.

It felt like you were drunk all over again—no sense of what was real and what was all in your head.

But with the soft squeeze on your waist, and the gentle fingers circling around your wrists, pulling your hands away from your face, you knew this was as real as it was going to get.

"What else do you remember?" he asked, thumbs drawing random shapes on the insides of your wrist.

You scrunched up your face. "Everything?"

He hummed, leaning a little closer to nudge the tip of your nose with his, urging you to keep your eyes on him.

"I have no idea how to do this…relationship thing. It's been a while," he started, a faint blush on his cheeks that made him so much more endearing. "But I'm willing to try this—with you."

Your heart grew ten times its size, you were sure of it.

"Yeah?"

He nodded, kissing your knuckles. "If you'll let me."

"We'll figure it out together," you said, holding his face in your hands with a smile.

"I'd like that," he whispered, grin turning cheeky. "On one condition."

"What?" Your brows furrowed.

"Morning kisses are mandatory."

You let out a hearty laugh, sound quick to turn into giggles when Miguel pressed his lips against yours.

It didn't take long for things to get heated.

You were picking up right where you left off last night, a little further given that alcohol wasn't in the equation anymore.

Yet with the way Miguel's hands were roaming your body, grabbing and groping whatever he could reach, tongue hot and heavy as it slipped past your lips, his deep groans vibrating against your palms as you rested it on his chest, his kisses moving their way onto the warm skin on your neck, softly nipping, tongue soothing—it was far more dizzying than any modified alcohol and then some.

It was a familiar voice that broke you off this time.

"Ahem! Uh, hello, I'm here!" It echoed from below. "The baby, too, by the way. So make sure you're…uhm, decent when you bring that thing down."

Miguel pulled away with an annoyed groan, eyes landing on the floating figure that appeared behind you.

If he could kill Lyla with one look—

"What?" she exclaimed. "I didn't say anything!"

"She didn't! You guys just weren't particularly…quiet," Peter B. defended on her behalf, chuckling. "And this place has the worst echo."

"Yeah, that's your fault," you whispered against his lips, pecking him one last time before getting off his lap.

He wasn't particularly happy about that either.

You pushed the button before he could say anything, the platform descending, smiling at him all innocent.

"I'm not done with you," he warned, voice deep with lust it made your whole body tingle.

"I'm counting on it." You winked, hopping off the platform before he could even respond.

Mayday landed in your arms before you could take a step.

"Hi, beautiful girl!" you greeted cheerfully, her chubby cheeks lifting as she giggled at you. "

"I wouldn't rush it," you heard Peter say.

"What?" Miguel gritted, still so annoyed.

"I know you're thinking about having a baby with her."

You bit back a laugh.

The utter silence from Miguel made it so much harder.

"You know nothing," he grumbled.

"Maybe," Peter chuckled, patting him on the back. "About time you made your move though."

Miguel grumbled something incoherent and turned back towards the screen.

Still, you caught the smile he was trying to hide.

It made you warm and fuzzy inside.

You walked over to him with Mayday in your arms. "Say hi to Uncle Miggy!"

Always your best accomplice, Mayday made grabby hands at him, blubbering, "Middy! Middy!"

Miguel sighed, carefully taking Mayday from you, before giving her a soft smile—the only other person he wasn't grumpy to. "Hello, peanut."

She giggled in response, climbing onto his shoulders, settling on them with her arms above his head. She always loved being so tall.

Miguel shot you a glare then, no heat to it at all. If anything, it was filled with pure fondness.

You grinned at him.

"You're a bad influence," he whispered to you.

"I don't think I am, Middy," you teased, standing on your tippy toes to place a kiss on his lips.

The way he suddenly turned flustered was adorable.

And when Mayday made a yucky sound, and Peter B. laughed, you knew your work of teasing him for the day was done.

"Come on, bub, let's go get you ice cream," you called, the little girl giggling in delight before jumping into your arms. You sent Miguel a wink before leaving him to deal with his beloved friend's teasing. Peter was practically waiting for this moment.

Many people regretted what they had done while drunk, especially when it involved something embarrassing.

Not you.

You regret nothing at all.

✫*｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ♛ *.

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[thought--bubble]

Surprise Sweetheart

Will (Salad Days) X Reader (Scream AU)

Word Count: 3,140

This is my submission for @fandomeventcenter 's FanFrankentober Event.

Thank you for reading my rough draft @schniiipsel and @anjelicawrites

Beautiful Header by @vhagar-balerion-meraxes

Will (Salad Days) Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Dividers and Banners by @arcielee

Warnings: Violence, Death, Threats, Fear, Smut (P in V unprotected), Emo Angsty Boy Activities

The night was heavy with an unsettling mix of fear and festivity. While you were typically a big fan of the Halloween season, even you felt that having this party, after what had just happened mere weeks ago, was macabre.

Tom's house was filled with the smell of beer and the sound of drunk people laughing and yelling, but Leah couldn't join in on the revelry.

Just a week ago, she had been with Matt, planning this very party when they received a call that would forever change her life.

“What's your favorite scary movie?” A question that seemed innocuous but was the catalyst that set her world hurtling into chaos.

Both you and Leah had tried to convince Tom and Will that the party should be canceled out of respect for Matt, who had recently been eviscerated by the Ghostface killer while Leah helplessly watched from her sliding glass doors.

Yet they both claimed it would be more disrespectful to Matt if they were to cancel the party, citing how much it meant to him and how “This is what he would have wanted.”

Thus, you both acquiesced, and with that reasoning, neither of you felt that you could skip the party without it being seen as disrespectful to Matt's memory.

When you entered the house, pushing through those you recognized from your area, Leah stood in the corner of the living room, her eyes glossed over as she watched their friends dance and drink. You noticed her disassociated demeanor and walked over to her, quickly wrapping your arm around her shoulder.

“You alright?” you asked, your voice softer than usual. You wanted to handle her as if she were made of glass because you were terrified she could shatter at any moment.

Leah forced a smile. “I’m trying. It’s just... everything feels so different without him. He should be here.” Her eyes flitted around the room, passing over each party guest before she softly repeated, “He should be here.”

You nodded, trying to be understanding of her grief. “Let’s get some fresh air, yeah? We can have a chat.”

The two of you stepped outside; the cool October air chilled your skin, freeing you to breathe after the stifling feeling of being inside. You could still hear the music and voices carry through the air. It sounded and smelled just like every other party, yet felt so different.

“I miss him so much,” Leah whispered, her eyes beginning to water as she valiantly attempted to blink the tears away. You pulled her into a comforting hug, wishing you knew how to help her, yet having no idea how. What does one do to help someone who watched their boyfriend die in such a gruesome way?

Eventually, you got her inside and sitting next to you on the sofa. It was actually nice as you sat in the living room with friends telling stories about Matt and all the wonderful and silly memories people had of him.

Tom and Will talked the most; it didn't surprise you. The three of them were as close as three friends could be, always taking off into the night together and somehow coming back with money, jewelry, and electronics. You learned quickly not to ask where it came from when Will randomly gifted you an MP3 player filled with classical music.

Leah listened for as long as she could, her heart breaking with every story and memory. So when Tom got up and said they were out of beer, Leah jumped at the opportunity to get some air.

“I'll get it!” she said quickly, jumping up from her place beside you. “It's just in the garage, yeah?”

“Yeah, just in the fridge,” Tom gestured toward the garage door.

“Well, while she does that, I’m gonna pop to the toilet,” Will stood and stretched, the blonde curls from below his gray joggers slightly peeking out.

Your cheeks heated up, and you looked away, hoping beyond hope that Tom didn't catch you staring. Yet as soon as Will walked off, Tom called you out.

“Get a good view, did ya?” he teased. “Only a sliver of stomach, and you're tripping over yourself!”

“Shut it, Tom!” You whacked his chest and laughed. “It was… slightly distracting.”

You chatted and laughed with Tom for quite some time before realizing that Leah hadn't returned.

“She's taking ages, isn't she?” You turned around on the sofa, looking toward the garage door.

“Uhh… yeah… I'll go see if she's alright. I'll be right back.” He jumps up off the sofa and heads toward the door.

“Don't say that! Remember Matt's rule!” You chuckled, recalling Matt's rules for surviving a scary movie.

Tom put his hands up, wiggling his fingers and trying his best to make eerie ghost moans. “I'll be right back!”

You chuckle to yourself as the garage door closes behind him. Tom's a goofball and if Leah is in there crying, you know he will be able to provide her at least some sort of comfort.

Yet, as the party begins to clear out the sky outside growing dark you once again turn toward the closed garage door.

“What is taking them so long?” You think out loud. Then you heard a thump upstairs and felt relieved. That must be Leah. She probably went off to cry by herself or just get away from the overwhelming atmosphere.

Annoyed, that Tom couldn't have been bothered to come and tell you Leah wasn't in the garage, you slowly walked upstairs and peeked your head around the bannister once you reached the landing. “Leah?” you whispered.

“Nah, just me, love,” Will walked over to you. “What are you sneaking around for?”

Your cheeks flushed again, as they always did when Will spoke to you. “I'm looking for Leah. I think she's wandered off somewhere to cry or something. Tom was supposed to find her but hasn't come back yet.”

“Trusting Tom when he's off his face?” Will chuckles “We are gonna have to find her then.” Will's hand slipped into yours as he led you down the dark hallway.

You followed him with a goofy grin on your face. You knew you should be worrying about Leah and her current emotional state, but with Will's hand in yours, you couldn't help but lose focus. Leah would understand; she's your best friend, after all.

Will pulled you into a bedroom and flicked on the light. “Not in here…” he said softly, closing the door behind him with a deafening click.

With your heart racing, you turned and looked at Will. “This is Tom's room, isn't it?”

“Aye, that it is.” He nodded slowly, his eyes raking over you as he takes a slow step forward.

You quickly turned your back to him, attempting to distract yourself by looking at the things Tom had on his shelves: a few dusty books, a silver chain, a mug that should be brought to the kitchen.

Will slowly walked up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist before resting his chin on your shoulder. “Are you aware I'm a bit mental over you?” His warm breath skated across the sensitive skin of your neck, and your chest constricted.

It took you nearly a full minute before you could respond.

“M-me?”

“No, the other bird in this room,” he chuckled lightly into your ear. “Yes, you.”

He turned you around in his arms, brushing his nose up the side of your face. “So pretty, so sweet.”

You preened at his praise, so caught up in the moment that you forgot what you even came up here for.

Will kissed along your jaw, cupping the back of your head in his large hand.

“Been wanting this for a long time.” He mumbled against the skin of your neck as he walked you back toward Tom's bed, and you let him, melting like putty in his hands.

When your legs hit the bed, he gently pushed you down, lifting your thighs around his hips.

“Tom… this is his bed…” you protested weakly as Will continued to pepper kisses along the side of your neck.

“Tom's a mate; he won't mind.” He slid his hand up the bare skin of your thigh and under your skirt. “Trust me, he won't care.”

You lay back, succumbing to his charm. He smirked, knowing he had you right where he wanted you.

“So fucking pretty,” he grunted, pressing his clothed cock against your core. “Tell me you want it. Tell me you want me,” he demanded, sliding his hand up between your thighs.

“I want it… I want you,” you whimpered pathetically.

“They always act like they do,” he smirked, bringing his mouth back to the crook of your neck.

Your brows crumpled in confusion, but before you could say anything, he thrust two fingers into your hot core.

“Ahh oh fuck, Will!” You panted as he started to thrust his fingers in and out, biting and sucking on your neck.

“You like that, sweetheart? Feel good?”

You whimper and manage to get out a weak “Yes” Your head fell back against the bed as he continued with his hand, bringing his thumb to your clit and rubbing circles on the swollen nub.

“Let's get these off, yeah?” He pulled his fingers out of you and slid your thong down your legs, tossing it out of sight.

“Hey!” You reached after it, and he grabbed your wrists, placing them above your head. His long, thin fingers wrapped around your two wrists with ease, locking you in place.

“We'll find them after. Right now… I'm gonna take what I've been after.” He nipped at your earlobe before reaching down with his free hand to hastily shove down his gray joggers.

You didn't even get a chance to see his manhood in all of its glory before he was sweeping the leaking head through your wet folds.

“We need a con—ahh oh fuck!” Your call for protection was quickly cut off as Will thrust into you to the hilt.

“What was that, love?” He panted above you, his silver chain dangling just over your chin. “I didn't hear you.”

As soon as you went to speak, he thrust into you harshly again. “Speak louder, love. Or… I'll have to make you louder.”

“Ah ah ah fuck, Will!” Your head fell back, and your eyes closed as he increased his pace, the headboard of Tom's bed rhythmically smacking the wall.

“Louder,” he growled, his tempo continuing to increase. Your skin grew hot all over your body, a pressure building between your legs unlike anything you had experienced before.

“Come on, love, give it to me.” He bit into the cove between your neck and shoulder. “Be mine.” He reached between your bodies, searching for your nub, the magic button he could use to send you soaring. He made quick work of rubbing you in harsh circles.

“Say it again” he growled directly into your ear. “Say you want me, you would choose me”

Your brain has turned to mush but you tried your best to get the words out. “I want you! Fuuckkkk oh god!” Your back arches as pleasure shoots through your body. Crackling like an electric snap through every limb, vein, every inch of skin heated and charged with and overwhelming pleasure.

“YOU WOULD CHOOSE ME! SAY IT!” he yelled and gripped your thighs pushing them forward changing his angle.

With a hint of desperation you whimper “I would choose you! Everytime! Oh god yes every fucking time!” Your legs clamp around him involuntarily and you dig your fingernails into his shoulders.

It's hot, It's explosive, it's electric and god damn it's good.

Your mouth dropped open in a silent scream as Will gripped your hips harshly, battering your insides, his narrow-minded focus on reaching his end taking over.

“Fuck, pet, you look so pretty when you cum,” he gasped out between hard thrusts.

“You have to pull out,” you whimpered as his eyes rolled back and he dug his fingernails into the fat of your hips.

He pulled out at the very last second, his warm seed splashing onto your lower belly.

“Fucking brilliant,” he panted above you, his hips still jerking slightly. “Wait here; I'll get you cleaned up.” He kissed your forehead and pulled his sweatpants and boxers back up.

You lay on Tom's bed looking up at the ceiling, panting, willing the harsh thrumming in your chest to slow.

He returned with a warm, wet handcloth, gently wiping away the aftermath of your encounter from your skin.

He helped you redress, his hands moving slowly and gingerly as he lifted each scrap of material back over your skin.

The soft gentleness of his touch now, was in stark contrast with the rough grip he had handled you with before.

Just as you went to wrap your arms around him and revel in your newfound closeness, there was a knock on the bedroom door. You rolled your eyes and let out a huff. Of course Tom would come to his room now.

“Go away, Tom,” Will stated curtly, with a small smile curling at the side of his mouth. He pressed his forehead to yours and moved in for a kiss before the knocking resumed at the door.

Will growled under his breath. “Hold that thought, darlin.” He disentangled himself from you and went to the door, whipping it open quickly. “WHA—” his word was cut short when he saw Ghostface in the doorway.

“Run, sweetheart!” Ghostface drove his knife down into Will's chest. The scene was too horrific for you to comprehend.

You brought your hand to your mouth and gasped. This can't be happening.

As Will fell to the floor, Ghostface ascended upon you, and your fight-or-flight response kicked in. As he rushed you, you turned, grabbed the empty mug on the shelf behind you, and smashed it on his head before jumping over the bed.

You cringed as you jumped over Will's motionless body and flung yourself into the hallway.

“HELP!!! SOMEONE HELP!” you screamed through the hallway as you flew down the stairs to find the front door blocked by the wooden TV stand from the living room.

Your eyes quickly landed on the garage door, and you rushed towards it. You could hardly get the door open fast enough before sprinting inside, only to come to a screeching halt.

There before you, crushed under the refrigerator, was blonde hair and copious amounts of blood.

“Leah?” Your voice cracked in agony as you took a tentative step toward the gruesome scene. “Leah, please get up… please… PLEASE!”

Your heart nearly stopped as the garage door started to slowly lift, the clanking of the aluminum material feeling like a fatal chime.

As soon as you saw boots with a slight covering of flimsy black material across the front, you bolted back inside.

The hair stood on the back of your neck as you tried to think of a way to escape. You couldn't go through the blocked front door or the garage. The only option left would be the back door through the kitchen.

You scurried down the hallway with such speed that your feet hardly touched the ground.

As soon as you reached the kitchen, you screamed—a high-pitched, blood-curdling scream—when you felt Ghostface’s cold, clammy hand wrap around your arm.

“GET OFF!!!!” you screamed in sheer terror. You had to get away. Ghostface turned you around to face him, and you were staring directly into that mask. That horrid mask.

“Who… who are you?” You didn't bother trying to hide the trembling in your voice, basically succumbing to the idea that you were going to die right here, right now.

When he pulled his mask off, your jaw dropped to the floor. Tom was staring back at you, a smile on his face. He was smiling. How was he smiling?

“You?” You stopped fighting, suddenly overcome with confusion. “But why? Matt… Matt was your friend! Will was your friend!”

“He needed me to,” the eerie response chilled you to the bone.

“Who?” Your voice came out as a broken whisper.

Tom's face changed from one of deep thought to one of deep rage as he lifted the knife over your chest. “He needed me to be a fucking man! I let him down before, but I won't this time!” He plunged the knife down toward you, and you pushed away with all your might.

As you broke free, the knife swung past you, with a movement so strong you could hear it cutting through the air, you turned to run again, towards the back door, but instead ran directly into a hard chest.

You looked up to see Will looking down at you, a soft look on his face.

“Hey” His voice is soft and he strokes your hair gently. Its completely out of place for this moment.

“Oh thank god! Will! It's Tom! Tom's the killer!” The words tumbled out of your mouth as relief flooded your veins. Surely, Will was going to keep you safe after all you shared earlier.

You felt the sticky wetness of his shirt and looked at your fingers. The blood. There was so much blood.

“How… how are you… how are you standing right now?” You looked up at him, your bodies still pressed tightly together.

Will looked right back down at you, but instead of that cute crooked smile you're used to, there was a smile that set your nerves on edge. There is no love of care in this smile. Just pure mania. You felt his hand slide up the side of your body as he brought a white plastic box to his mouth.

“Surprise, sweetheart.” His voice came out garbled and distorted, and your heart sank down to the bottom of your stomach.

“No… no… this can't… no…” Your voice cracked as your world seemed to cave in around you from all directions.

“But why?” Hot tears streamed down your face as you looked up at him. “Leah? Matt? How… how could you!” You smacked and punched at his chest in frustration.

“Leah chose him over me. Rejected me like it was nothing, like they all do, LIKE EVERYONE DOES!” His voice boomed throughout the room, a sound so foreign.

At a loss for words, you simply stared up at him.

He gripped your chin and tugged your head towards him. “Like you would have done.” He rubbed his thumb over your pouty bottom lip.

“I wouldn't… Will, I swear I wouldn't.” You brought your hands up and held onto his biceps, willing him to believe you. “Please.”

Will chuckled and let go of your chin before reaching into his back pocket and raising his knife above you.

“I know, love. You'll never get the chance.”

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[misshorrorotaku]

So i been seeing your post recently and...well.....do you not think whats hapening in palestine is a genocide?

No, I don't.

Firstly, the numbers of how many have died comes from Hamas. And I refuse to believe they can name every dead kid but can't name how many hostages are alive. And even if we humor the idea they're telling the truth, 30k is an INCREDIBLY small number in terms of conflicts like this and most likely includes Hamas fighters, who are dressed as civilians and of whom Hamas does not differentiate when counting these numbers, so the civilian death toll is far more likely to be around 15k, and that's a generous high-roll. It's also not really possible they'd mostly be women and children. Cuz if they were, this would mean either every man in Gaza is a Hamas fighter (unlikely) or most men in Gaza has somehow avoided death. An incredibly unlikely option, especially given Pro-Pals insistence that Israel is "carpet bombing" Gaza. If you're carpet bombing an area, it's not possible that adult men could almost all avoid death. XD that's just not possible.

Secondly, Hamas has been proven to be lying. They lied about Israel bombing a hospital pretty early (they claimed Israel bombed the hospital and 500 people died, but in truth, one of their missile misfired and hit the parking lot of the hospital they claim was hit), and ever since I have either seen multiple lies from Hamas or Pro-Pals claiming this building or that was destroyed, but a quick Google search of the building either provided oodles of proof it was not destroyed or that it wasn't even in fucking Gaza. I refuse to believe the side lying their asses off will be accurate when calling something a genocide. This doesn't mean I think Israel has never lied, but they have not engaged in nearly the same level of manipulation that Hamas and the Pro-Pal side have.

Thirdly, Hamas has been launching unguided missiles into Israel for over 20 years. This necessitated the Iron Dome, and Israel in the areas that were bombed even has alarms in every neighborhood and a bomb shelter in every house. Even so they have killed thousands over the years in this campaign of slaughter. They then capped this off with October 7th, a terror attack that claimed almost exclusively civilian lives. They raped, butchered, and even recorded themselves doing these things (which is of course ignored by Pro-Pals). They had journalists involved who warned no one and even posed with Hamas leaders and took pictures of themselves with grenades. Apparently there were even members of the UNRWA involved, tho I haven't seen full proof of that bit yet. This was a terror attack that killed 1400 people, innocent people who were just taking part in a music festival. Then they kidnapped over 230 more innocent people, all civilians, many of which weren't even Israeli's, and while yes they gave SOME back during the ceasefire for hostage exchange, they kept a lot of infants (yes, INFANTS) they took, separating them from their mothers, and didn't give back all the hostages, rejecting the offer to keep the ceasefire going in exchange for them all. And now, they won't even name how many as still alive!

And after this terror attack they retreated to Gaza, even taking some corpses of the people they killed, and went into underground tunnels so any reprise against them would hit innocent civilians. They even said on live TV that they view Gaza as a country of martyrs they're happy to sacrifice. And yet despite all of that, we get to point 4.

Fourthly, Israel warns people before attacking. This is unprecedented. Militaries the world over call it a stupid move, cuz tactics-wise, it is very fucking stupid since inevitably Hamas gets the warnings too. But Israel does it anyway in an attempt to prevent civilian deaths, with Hamas refusing to let a lot of the civilians evacuate so they don't die. And the ones that did? They followed them to Rafah, bringing hostages with them, making Rafah, by law, a military target.

Fifthly, Hamas steals the aid that gets in, Palestinians have even testified to this, forcing Gazan civilians to starve and get desperate. The most recent consequence of this is the "flour massacre" in which starving Gazans swarmed an aid truck, and the aid workers inside ran a lot of them over in a bid to escape. Pro-Pals of course spread the lie that Israel butchered them all.

And finally point 6, having to do with the hostages: Hamas lies about the hostages. They claim they're treated well, even forged a thank you letter. But one interview with a released hostage demonstrates that this is a blatant lie, the family of the hostage the letter was from even said it was a lie!

I refuse to believe a genocide is happening when all of this is true. People facing genocide don't engage in this level of manipulation. They don't take innocents hostage, rape them and kill their families and neighbors.

Yeah, Gaza military-wise is weak compared to Israel. And their government has no interest in protecting them whatsoever. But one side being weak does not make a war a genocide. One side's government choosing to hide in underground tunnels, launch missiles from civilian buildings, hide weapons and hostages in hospitals, schools, and children's bedrooms does not make it a genocide.

What is happening is awful and it needs to stop. but it's a war, not a genocide.

[vivid-ink]

"Show Me & Teach Me"

Neteyam Sully / female Omatikaya reader

Summary: You were an inconsequential member of the Omatikaya clan who had failed your rites of passage once already. You were born to heal, not hunt or fight. So, why had the tsahìk designated Neteyam of all people to take over your training? What business did the future olo’eyktan have mentoring you? But it was too late now. You should have known better than to fall in love with your mentor. You had known this day would come; the day when your success would mean losing his company. You should have clung on tighter to your heart while you still had it…

Content: Angst & fluff, pining, protective Neteyam, romance, Neteyam is your mentor, teacher-student chemistry, eventual happy ending, slight age-gap fetish, older man-younger woman.

Word count: 6.5k

Notes: This is my first ever Tumblr fic post! I've posted previously on AO3, Wattpad and FF.net, but I discovered this wonderful fandom on Tumblr recently and you've inspired me! Shout out to these bloggers whose work and writing I've been avidly browsing recently - @cinetrix, @andraga12, @pandoraslxna, @lanasblood and @draiochtwrites Special thanks to @cinetrix for her fabulous Neteyam renders. SO. BLOODY. GORGEOUS. This is also my first attempt at a Neteyam/Reader style of writing, so I hope I've done it justice. I personally don't like the usage of 'Y/N', so the reader's name in this is Seyla. The name is not used often, but there are a few points where it has been used for stylistic/emotional effect in the dialogue. Cross-posted also on AO3 - Show Me & Teach Me Other works available - VividInk AO3

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

The dichotomy of emotion that swirled in your chest was a frustrating ache; a blight against the happiness of the occasion. Today was a happy day, and yet the unwelcome despondency you felt stubbornly insisted on battling with your elation at having finally completed your rites of passage. You had completed Iknimaya to tame your own ikran last week, and yesterday you had completed your uniltaron (dream hunt).

You were officially a woman now, born again as one of the Omatikaya, and tonight the entire clan was celebrating you and your other successful peers. Your peers who are all a few years younger than you are… The pessimistic part of your brain unhelpfully supplied.

The swallow of saliva down your throat was tight at the thought and you mentally attempted to bat away the negativity. So what if you were a late bloomer? What mattered was that you had succeeded now, and you had one person in particular to thank for that.

Neteyam…

His name breathed like a soothing balm over your fraught mind, but before your thoughts could carry you further away from the jovial festivity that surrounded you, the call of your name jolted you from your contemplation.

“Seyla! Come and join us! Tonight isn’t for sitting, it’s for dancing!”

Twisting your torso where you were seated to meet the mirthful eyes of another girl across the bonfire, you gave her a small grin in response and shook your head. Nope, you were not much of a dancer. You were skilled with your hands; at weaving; at beading, and at healing – especially healing -, but the rest of you was as uncoordinated as they came. This was one of the reasons it had taken you longer than most to achieve your rites.

You raised your voice to ensure it would carry over the percussion drumbeats of the music and the crackle and spit of the fire, “No thanks! You go on, Pania! I can’t dance, and I’m happy being merry over here with my drink!” The vessel of bittersweet alcohol in your hand was brought to your lips once more to prove your point and though Pania pouted, she acquiesced and returned to her frolicking.

Shyness had been your constant companion your entire life. You had never liked being the centre of attention, had always been content to just blend into the background where it was safe and constant. Happy though you were tonight at your success, no amount of cajoling would to persuade you to join the mosh pit of revelry around the bonfire. You preferred your quiet contemplation, observing and finding joy in others’ bliss while they enjoyed the celebration around you.

With another sip of your drink, you sighed to yourself as the liquid burned a path down your throat.

As always, your gaze wandered through the sea of swaying and jaunting bodies, seeking out the strapping frame of the man you had become familiar with recently. You had grown fond of him over the many moons you had spent under his tutelage, far too fond, you realised. It was not long before you found him, mingling amongst a group of the other mentors.

Neteyam was laughing heartily among them, nursing his own vessel of alcohol. His smile was dashing, and his laughter was like music to your ears, warming the cockles of your heart and setting it aflame. You felt your own lips pull into a diffident smile of your own at the sight of him. He was so beautiful; both inside as well as out.

You remembered being mortified at first when he had been assigned as your replacement mentor. It had happened not long after his family had returned to the clan following the Long War.

The return of Toruk Makto and his family had been greatly celebrated; the return of their beloved olo’eyktan and the return of Neteyam as his successor. Neteyam had always been handsome, even in his youth. You recalled the silly girlhood crush you had harboured for him, a boy several years older than yourself who took not much notice of you, although he had always been kind in the few interactions you had shared.

Neteyam had returned to the clan even more striking now that he had grown into a man, with the toned musculature of a warriors’ body that made even the most reserved of women think unchaste things. You were guilty of this too.

So, imagine your horror when tsahìk Mo’at had pronounced that Neteyam would take over training you for your second attempt at your rites. Great. Just what you needed; more self-conscious pressure…

You had not done well under Rini’s instruction. Rini was one of the best young warriors in the clan, but she had found your lack of confidence frustrating and your timid nature more annoying than endearing. She had been impatient and exasperated as a result, the entire ordeal culminating in the shame of your first unsuccessful attempt at Iknimaya. You had not been injured, but you had failed because none of the ikran had challenged you and you had made no further attempt to tame one.

The decision for Neteyam to replace Rini had shocked you and it had made no sense. Even thinking back now, it still made no sense. Great Mother, why would anyone devote the time of the future olo’eyktan to the training of an inconsequential young woman?

Nevertheless, Mo’at’s decision had proven to be beneficial to your learning. You put it down to Neteyam more so than yourself. You were still the same old you; bashful, uncertain and reluctant to cause things harm, even if it was hunting wild game for the clan’s sustenance. Neteyam just had a way about him; he was unassuming and patient, and he had made you feel at ease with him.

The lively swell of the music around you faded into the background as your thoughts consumed you once more. The memory of your first meeting with Neteyam floated into the forefront of your mind…

*** FLASHBACK ***

“Tsahìk, I think the yalnabark tincture is done brewing. I’ve taken it off the fire for now or the mixture might scorch at the bottom.” You called out assuredly. If there was one thing in life you knew you were good at, it was the art of healing.

Mo’at reappeared from around the partition in the healers’ hut, crouching down to test the consistency of the tincture in the pot by stirring it gently with a wooden ladle. The viscous fluid bubbled gently and you knew it would cool eventually to form the thick salve you were used to slathering on cuts and wounds.

The tsahìk sniffed the wafting fumes before settling appraising gold eyes on you. She smiled and the expression made the corners of her eyes and mouth crinkle with warmth, “Well done, child. It’s the perfect consistency.”

Beaming at the praise you received, you settled the pot to the side to cool and began gathering your things to clean up for the day. Eclipse was fast approaching and the light of day was fading fast. Quietly, you wondered to yourself why you could not just carry on as you were, learning from Mo’at and assisting her with the sick and injured from day to day.

You were born to help people; to heal them and give them comfort in difficult times. Hunting and learning to spar with knives and spears were the farthest things away from your proficiencies.

“You are thinking so loudly I can hear your thoughts.” Mo’at hummed, her lips forming a wry grin.

“I just don’t understand why I have to train and pass Iknimaya. I’ll never be a hunter or a warrior. Can’t I just learn from you and be a healer for the rest of my life?”

Mo’at fixed you with an astute gaze and she narrowed her eyes at you, “You can and will be a great healer, Seyla. But Iknimaya is a rite of passage that all Omatikaya individuals must pass. You need to tame an ikran or how will you travel? You’ll never fly otherwise and you are too grown now to be a pillion passenger on another’s ikran.”

With a resigned huff, you slung your pouch across your torso, preparing to depart for the evening when Mo’at called out to you again.

“Just stay back for a while today. I told Neteyam to meet you here at eclipse. I figured it would be good for the two of you to reacquaint yourselves with each other a bit before you he starts your training tomorrow.”

Self-conscious flutters erupted in your belly.

Of course, you knew you would be spending a lot of time with Neteyam in the coming while since he would be mentoring you, but the timid part of you had thought you would not need to deal with your nerves around this until tomorrow. You did what was requested of you nonetheless.

Neteyam was prompt, stepping into the healers’ hut within moments of eclipse’s onset. Your heart had been racing steadily behind your sternum in anxious anticipation, but the sight of him made it skip a few beats. Eywa help you, he was so attractive… How were you ever going to be able to concentrate on your learnings being mentored by him?

You immediately rose to your feet from where you were knelt out of respect at his arrival. Dipping your knees slightly and with a bow of your head, you greeted him, “Oel ngati kameie, Neteyam. My name is-”

Neteyam interrupted you before you could finish, “Seyla. Yes, I know. I remember you.”

Your head snapped up in surprise at his words. His smile was kind and his eyes gentle as he regarded you and you blinked, lost for words, for several moments before you found them again, “Oh, you do? We never really spoke much.”

You were six years his junior. Too young to have been in any of the social circles Neteyam had made his way around in. Any interactions you had shared were fleeting and often just greetings in passing. He was as good as the crown prince of the clan, so naturally you had known who he was. It would not have been unfair though to assume, especially with your quiet nature, that he did not notice you.

A jovial grin danced across Neteyam’s lips, the tips of his canines peaking charmingly out from his behind his upper lip, “The girl with the pretty braids. Though I see you don’t wear them as long anymore.”

The peal of laughter that bubbled up from within you was involuntary, sparked by pure delight at the realisation that he did indeed remember you. You had worn your hair much longer as a girl, your tresses trailing in luscious locks down to your hips. Your hair had been one of the beautiful things about you, and you and your mother had spent countless hours crafting new beads and braiding them into your hair in intricate styles. The length had unfortunately become inconvenient as you grew older, so the ends of your braids were now lopped shorter to brush the small of your back.

A flush heated your cheeks under his scrutiny and your laughter died down. Clearing your throat clumsily, you nodded, “Yeah, that’s me.”

A hoarse chortle emanated from behind you and you remembered Mo’at was still present. Her husky voice piped up, her eyes twinkling with some enigmatic reason in their depths, “You need to look after this one, Neteyam. Her hands work miracles with the ill and injured. She is gifted with healing, both physical and spiritual. And you of all people should understand how exceptional that is.”

The tsahìk’s words were high praise and you felt the flush on your face intensify. Her words reminded you suddenly of the reason for your meeting with Neteyam in the first place though, and you quickly added, “I will work hard as your trainee. I’m not particularly athletic or strong, but I’ll always try my best. I don’t wait to fail again and I don’t want to bring you shame as my mentor, so I’ll pass my rites or die trying.”

Neteyam appeared taken aback by the candour with which you spoke and the severity of your tone. He gave a slow cock of his head to the side, his eyes calculating while you fought hard not to squirm at his silent assessment.

His assessing gaze only lasted several moments before the comfortable warmth of his usual expression returned. His voice was benevolent when he spoke, “No one is going to die trying anything. We will go at your pace. I may push you at times, but if it gets too much, you are at every right to voice this to me.”

Neteyam’s words were a reassurance and the thundering of your heart began to subside. Mustering up what little dregs of courage you possessed from within yourself, you lifted your head to peer into his eyes and found them void of any judgement. Their green-gold depths were open and sincere, and you perceived also a silent promise of security in them.

The lump forming in your throat hindered you from finding your word, however, and your response to Neteyam was a mute nod.

He spoke again then, the baritone of his voice rumbling delightfully through you, “I swear to you as your mentor that I will keep you safe. Your safety is my priority and you will have the protection of my body too if need be.”

Neteyam’s masculine pledge of security made parts of you squeeze in feminine appreciation, and you berated yourself internally for letting his appeal distract you.

 You watched as he extended a hand out to you and you placed your hand in his to shake it, only to feel him raise the back of it to his lips instead in a gentle kiss against your knuckles.

*** FLASHBACK END ***

A stray ember spat from the bonfire and sailed through the air towards you. You hissed and slapped at your arm where the ember made blistering contact with your bare skin. The heat of the fire suddenly felt stifling and you got to your feet, intent on heading somewhere quieter where you could be alone with your thoughts.

Great Mother, you missed him already. You were going to miss him so much.

Feminine laughter reached you and the points of your ears swivelled in that direction, your eyes following suit a moment later. You spotted one of the female warriors, Penina, giggling while she clasped on to Neteyam’s forearm as the troupe of warriors continued in their conversation. She raised herself onto the balls of her feet to whisper something in his ear before she pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. Neteyam turned his head and gave Penina a sly smile in response.

You turned away quickly, not wanting to witness anything more. You should have clung on tighter to your heart while you still had it.

A sharp stab of sadness pricked in your chest and you silently chastised yourself for being so foolish. Neteyam was the future olo’eyktan for goodness sake. He had his pick of the females and he could court who he liked. You had known this day would come; the day when your success would mean losing his company.

Looking around you, you saw that everyone else was engrossed in their carousing and it allowed you slip away unhindered. Padding towards the appealing tranquillity of the woodland glade that surrounded the clan’s new Hometree, you found yourself a patch of soft moss amongst the bioluminescent eyaye ferns and settled yourself there.

Taking deep breaths through your nostrils, you closed your eyes and surrendered yourself to the sounds of the night; the soft pattering of water from the nearby cascades; the chirruping of insects and the occasional calls of a troop of syaksyuk in the lush canopy overhead. Beating back the soreness in your heart, you willed yourself to pray to the Great Mother, to be grateful and thankful for your achievement.

However, your mind did not appear to want to co-operate and the painful image of Penina kissing Neteyam’s cheek flashed through your consciousness again.

Being mentored by Neteyam was both your greatest blessing and your greatest curse.

After that first meeting with Neteyam, you had only gone from strength to strength under his guidance. He was a kind but firm tutor who held an unwavering belief in your abilities, despite the fact that you did not share that same confidence. He pushed you to your limits, but never beyond them and like any good mentor, he knew when to reward you with praise and when to be more critical.

You should have known you were a lost cause from the moment he had sworn to protect you during that first meeting. You should have been more careful. You should have guarded your heart with the constant reminder that he was not yours and never would be no matter how much you felt drawn to him during your lessons.

*** FLASHBACK ***

Neteyam stood at your back, his stance almost a mirror of yours as he adjusted your shooting form; legs positioned firmly apart, back straight with a strong core, bowstring drawn as you took aim at the target in the distance between the thick trunks of the trees. Your aim and accuracy had strengthened considerably in the weeks training under Neteyam. Tomorrow, you would attempt again the first rite of making a clean kill.

It was difficult to concentrate when you could feel the heat of his body radiating off him and feel his warm breaths tickling the point of one of your ears. The heat of one of his hands seared against the skin of your hip as he steadied you and the fingertips of his other hand supported the wrist of your bow arm. Unable to take your eyes off the target to confirm your suspicion for yourself, you also swore to the Great Mother that the tuft of his tail was delicately caressing the calf of your back leg.

“Whenever you’re ready, loose the arrow.” Neteyam whispered, and the purr of his voice sent a shudder through you that you hoped he did not notice.

Target in focus, you narrowed your eyes and when the instinctive urge hit, you let your arrow fly. It hurtled through the trees to embed itself dead centre of the mounted target amongst your previous attempts. The thrill of success washed through you once more and you gave a little skip on the spot in celebration.

“Seysonìltsan (well done)!” Neteyam cheered, looping an arm around your waist and pressing his cheek to yours in an affectionate nuzzle that made your face and neck flush, “You’re all set for tomorrow. You’re going to be just fine.”

Your initial joy at your success with target practice soon clouded over when you contemplated the final part of making a clean kill: A dagger through the creature’s heart to return its soul to Eywa; the part that you had failed to complete on your own during your first attempt. Rini had been forced to end the creature’s life for you.

The sound of the yerik’s pained, bleating cries still haunted your ears to this day. You had felt rotten being responsible for the arrow that had impaled its side. You had not wanted to cause it anymore pain…

Sensing the change in your mood, Neteyam ran a gentle hand down your side, “Hey, come back to me. What are you thinking about?”

Chewing on your bottom lip, ears twitching, your nervous eyes flitted to his, “Did Rini tell you why I failed this rite last time?”

A frown marred his handsome face and he shook his head, his concern evident as he snaked an arm around your shoulders to pull you against his side.

The soothing strokes of his thumb against your upper arm coaxed you to continue, “My arrow’s aim was true and I managed to impale the yerik. But I couldn’t end its life with my dagger. I don’t like to hurt things. It was in pain and all I wanted to do was make the pain stop. Of course, the pain would’ve stopped once I ended its life but the thought of stabbing it was too much for me to bear. Rini had to do it in the end. I was too weak to.”

Your last words were uttered with all the dejection that you felt and the tears of your shame stung in your downcast eyes. Something so simple, so natural in the cycle of life that all creatures shared in the Great Mother, and you could not do it. You were weak.

You felt warm fingers grasp your chin gently and your face was tilted up to meet Neteyam’s. Your eyes remained shuttered, however, and you cursed the two fat tears that squeezed their way from behind your closed lids to roll down your cheeks.

“Seyla, look at me.” Neteyam implored you, and it was only the sheer tenderness in his tone that made you brave enough to obey. Your breath was stolen from you as you met his striking eyes and his expression was full of compassion, “You’re not weak for finding it difficult to end a life. Your calling is to heal, to restore life even in the direst of circumstances when all seems lost. There is great strength in that. Empathy is not weakness. You have a big heart and I don’t want to hear you call yourself weak ever again.”

Swiping your tears from your face with the back of one hand, you sniffled softly and nodded. But your chin wobbled along with your voice as you posed your question, “What if I can’t do it tomorrow? What if I fail again?”

“Then I’ll guide your hand and we’ll do it together. And after you’ve completed your rites, you’ll never have to hunt again if you don’t want to.”

*** FLASHBACK END ***

And he had guided your hand in the end.

Neteyam’s bigger hand had enveloped yours to steady its trembling amid the bleating cries of the yerik you had felled, and he had given you the strength, the driving force that you needed, to complete your first rite.

Afterward, your adrenalin and your distress had all come to a head and he had held you in his arms where you were both crouched, comforting you as you cried.

That had been the first of your successful firsts, as you called them, and Neteyam had been there every single step of the way after that. Your first kill; your first climb to Iknimaya where you successfully tamed your ikran; your first flight; your first talioang hunt; and your first Dream Hunt. It was always his eyes that you sought out first at the end of each achievement, and your heart had always soared to find his gaze waiting to receive yours.

You were not even aware of it at first, that your heart no longer beat inside the confines of your chest. Then one day as Neteyam had graced you with another one of his magnetic smiles, you realised that your heart now beat in the hold of his hands. He had swindled it from you without you even knowing it and now it was too late to get it back.

Today had been the first day in many moons – almost seven – that you did not arise in the morning and head out to meet Neteyam. You were one of the people now. There was no more training to be had and you had felt the loss of his presence keenly during the day today.

You had thanked Neteyam last night, for all his guidance and perseverance that had led to your success. You had been weary from the exertion of your Dream Hunt, your mind still foggy from the psychoactive effects of the glow worm one had to consume as part of the rite. However, you remembered murmuring your thanks to him and falling asleep against the blissful warmth of his chest as he had carried you home to your family’s alcove.

He must feel it too… You thought to yourself. That magnetism that pushed and pulled between the two of you, surely it was not simply one-sided on your part?

Neteyam had never said anything, had never given any indication to you of wanting to address the bond that had grown between the two of you. All the smiles, the embraces, the tender nuzzles, the deliberate touches and the gentle brushing of his fingers against your skin; all the almost kisses; had you imagined it all? Did your lovesick brain infer more than there actually was to all of it?

“What are you doing here?”

The voice at your back startled you out of your skin and you jumped with an unintentional yelp.

Neteyam’s deep laughter reverberated loudly in the serenity of the glade around you and you turned to swat at the calf of one of his legs, your tail lashing crossly behind you at being alarmed. He moved to settle himself on the moss next to you and you shuffled over to make room for him where the moss was its plushest.

“What have I always told you about watching your back?” Neteyam clucked playfully, reaching out to poke you in the ribs lightly.

You recoiled from the ticklish jab, unable to stop the giggle that escaped you despite the frown you still wore due to his previous action, “I don’t really think anything dangerous will sneak up on me whilst I’m on home-ground. So you’ll forgive me, karyu (teacher), for letting my guard down.”

“You don’t think I’m dangerous?” There was a mischievous glint in Neteyam’s eyes and his tone was cheeky as he regarded you.

Oh, you knew Neteyam could be dangerous with his imposing stature and warriors’ body, corded with powerful muscle that guaranteed brute strength in a wrestling match, and promised carnal delight for a woman caged within his hold in a very different kind of match. The explicit nature of your last thought surprised you and you hoped the furious blush staining your cheeks was not obvious in the dim light of eclipse.

“Seriously though, I know you’re not one for crowds and carousing, but what are you doing hiding out here?” Neteyam queried again, and sincerity coloured his tone this time.

“Everything just got a bit much. And I’m still tired from yesterday, I think. I just wanted somewhere quiet to reflect.” You muttered softly.

The familiar musk of his scent tantalised your nose and you took a discreet inhale, savouring the comfort it brought you while you also tried simultaneously to embed it into the deepest recesses of your memory. You were not going to be around Neteyam much anymore. You had healers’ duties to attend to and he had duties as future clan leader to attend to. That certainly made for quite a lot of distance.

Another twinge of sadness pulled at you and you kept your gaze on your folded knees, unable to look at him. Wanting to deflect and distract yourself from the sombre mood that was threatening to overwhelm you, you parroted his first question back at him, “I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be back with the others, enjoying the party? You seemed to be quite engaged with the warriors before.”

“I saw you sneak away and I figured I’d check in with you. This is technically your party after all, to celebrate your rebirth. You sure you don’t want to head back out there? There are quite a few people who want to congratulate you.” Neteyam cajoled.

“Not right now. I’ll come back in a bit. You go on though. I’m OK, you’ve seen that no danger has befallen me.” Your attempt to be jovial fell flat even to your own ears and you felt Neteyam shift beside you, lowering his head to try and catch your eye.

“Seyla, what’s wrong? You’re upset. Has someone said something to you tonight? Hurt you? Tell me what happened and I’ll deal with them.”

Neteyam’s concern and immediate oath to defend you was moving. It was wonderful to know he still cared deeply for you despite the conclusion of your mentor-mentee relationship. His devotion to the people he cared about was one of the many things you loved about him.

Great Mother, you loved him. You were in love with him.

The sentiment threatened to choke you and you swallowed it down painfully. You were determined to keep your composure. You did not want to cry tonight in front of Neteyam, not when it was a night of celebration for you as well as for him as your mentor. You would look like an absolute ingrate and you were not about to admit to him the real reason for your melancholy either.

“Nothing untoward has happened. No one has said anything or done anything.” The words were forced from your throat and you realised with mounting horror that you were failing miserably at trying to sound normal. Your voice was unsteady and unbidden tears were pooling in your eyes.

Neteyam’s brow furrowed uneasily at your apparent distress and he shifted to face you. His large hands encircled each of your upper arms, rubbing gently in an attempt to mollify whatever turmoil you clearly felt but seemed reluctant to tell him of. “Shh it’s alright, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but you know you can tell me anything, right?”

A choked sob left you and you pawed in frustration at your wet eyes, lying through your teeth, “Ugh, I’m sorry. I’m just really tired and out of sorts. That glow worm really did a number on me.” You pushed at his forearms gently, faking a smile and urging him to return to the merriment of the party, “Go, honestly. Don’t let me ruin your evening.”

Neteyam appeared utterly unconvinced, which was testament to how well he had come to know you; how easily he could read you. He fidgeted uncomfortably then and you mused to yourself how uncharacteristic that was of him when he was usually so self-assured.

He took a slow and measured inhale, one of his hands leaving you to scratch nervously at the back of his head, “I actually wanted to talk to you about something. Something important.”

The downturned points of your ears pricked upwards with interest, his last two words piquing your curiosity, “What is it? Is it bad news?”

By Eywa, please let it not be bad news. What could be so important that he needed to speak to you right now?

Neteyam took in your worried expression, your beautiful doe-eyes shiny with emotion, and he chuckled lightly, “No, it’s not bad news. Well, it could be bad news for me, but that depends on your viewpoint on the matter.”

“What do you mean?” You queried and you both watched and felt as he took your smaller hands in his, his fingers squeezing and rubbing your palms gently comfortingly.

Licking his lips and swallowing the knot of nerves in his throat, Neteyam began to explain slowly, “You know my position within the clan as my father’s successor.”

“Yes.”

“You know that I will lead this clan as olo’eyktan when my father’s time in that position ends.”

“Yes.”

“Well, every olo’eyktan needs a tsahìk.”

You blinked perplexedly up at him. His three statements appeared rather matter-of-fact and ‘old news’ to you. It was nothing you did not know and nothing you were not already aware of. You were quite puzzled as to why Neteyam was bringing this up now. “Sorry, I don’t think I’m following you. I know all this already.”

A nervous chuckle left Neteyam then and he ran a hand down his face. He knew he was being cryptic and it was the result of his own nerves that caused him to be so. He could see you had no idea where he was going with this and he took the opportunity to tease one last time, “Have you never wondered why I was assigned as your mentor?”

You perked up at the question. Ah! This question you could relate to, “Yes! I wonder about this all the time actually. There are many other skilled hunters or warriors who could’ve trained me. I don’t understand why they designated you. Surely your skills would’ve been better used elsewhere.”

“It was my grandmother’s decision specifically. As tsahìk, she interprets the will of our Great Mother. She determines the best candidates for the future leaders of this clan.” Neteyam continued, his tone measured and he watched carefully for your reaction while you took in his words, “Seyla, you were her choice of tsakarem (future tsahìk). Of course, it was all dependent on you passing your rites, which is why no one could tell you this fact. Not even me. She assigned me as your mentor not just because of my skills, but because she wanted to see if we would get along.”

“W-What?” Your heart was galloping in your chest, your brain reeling as it tried to process the information you had just been enlightened about.

“It was such a hard secret for me to keep.” Neteyam appeared a little sheepish then and he chortled, bringing both of your hands up to his lips to press several kisses to your knuckles, “Your heart is so pure and you’re so beautiful. I grew fonder and fonder of you the more I got to know you. I wanted you to pass your rites and I knew you would with time if I could build your confidence. Now you have, and I’m so proud of you.”

A sudden burst of clarity struck you as Neteyam’s words began to sink in. Everything that had not made sense before made perfect sense now: The reason the future olo’eyktan of all people had been assigned to mentor you; the reason Neteyam had been so forward with his affection during your training; the reason Mo’at had always been so welcoming towards you learning from her, despite the unofficial mantle you had once held for so long as the ‘flop’ of the clan who may never pass your rites. There had been a bigger picture all along.

“Your grandmother wants me to be your tsahìk?”

Neteyam nodded and he reached out to cup your cheek, “Yes, if you’ll accept the position and accept me as your betrothed.”

Something dazzling white and wonderfully warm pierced through the cloud of your melancholy. You looked at Neteyam’s face, really looked at him and at the future he was presenting you with. You, tsakarem! Neteyam’s betrothed and future mate. You would stand at his side, tsahìk and olo’eyktan…

It was such an about-turn of events from what you felt moments ago that you could hardly believe it. But the sheer joy that burst within your heart was so welcome and in that moment, all was right with the world. It felt like the misshapen pieces of your wounded pride that had taken a beating after your past failures had reshaped themselves and found their place.

Beaming at Neteyam through glassy eyes that were now filling with happy tears, you laughed and the sound was bright in your ears.

Neteyam leaned in to nuzzle your cheek tenderly, his warm breath ghosting across the smooth skin there, “Please say you’ll accept and be mine. You are gifted and blessed by Eywa, and it would be an honour to have you as my tsahìk.”

“Yes. Yes, I accept.” Your giggles were wet and your arms instinctively curled around Neteyam’s neck as he lifted you in his arms to your knees in a triumphant embrace.

Neteyam drew back then, his face mere inches from yours. He nuzzled your nose lightly, “May I kiss you?”

With parted lips and a bashful nod, you absently thought to yourself that you were yet again about to experience another one of your firsts with Neteyam. Your first kiss.

His lips met yours in a tentative meld at first, the moist brush of lips an entirely new sensation to you. Neteyam pressed forward again after, claiming your lips this time in a deliberate sweep of lips and tongue that stole your breath from you and sent a spark of desire coursing through your veins.

Your earlier melancholy seemed lightyears away now in the face of what had just happened, and your heart sighed in contentment at the uplifting of its grief that had come with Neteyam’s declaration.

Not wanting to scare you with his fervent ardour, Neteyam pulled away a little to rest his forehead against yours, “By Eywa, you don’t know how long I have wanted to do that.”

“I see you, Neteyam.”

“I see you, yawntu (beloved).” He returned the sentiment, smiling as he delivered a couple more chaste kisses. He sat back on his haunches then to properly look at you, his expression turning serious then, “Will you tell me why were you upset before? I’m just concerned, that’s all.”

Rolling your lips together in mild embarrassment, you outed the truthful answer to his question, “I was sad that I wouldn’t see you every day anymore. I was missing you. But it seems I don’t need to worry about that anymore.”

Several emotions flitted their way across Neteyam’s face; surprise, compassion and then satisfaction. With a wayward smirk, he purred, “Our daytimes may be spent apart now, but our evenings, well, we’ll have to fill those, won’t we? I’m looking forward to getting to know my betrothed in a more personal manner.”

Neteyam surged forward to kiss you again, more forcefully this time, and your head craned backward under the pleasurable plundering of his mouth. You moaned lightly and when a mistimed re-angling of your head caused your teeth to clack against his, you pulled away self-consciously with an apology, “Sorry, I’m new to this. Looks like you’re still going to have to teach me, karyu.”

The impish grin that Neteyam cast you sent hot shivers down your spine and his eyes glinted with the promise of the best kind of wickedness. He placed slow kisses to your face; one to your chin, one to your mouth and then to each of your eyes before he murmued, “Oh, there is so much that I plan to teach you, yawntu. And we have a lifetime to explore all that.”

He punctuated his words with a searing, open-mouthed kiss to the column of your neck and the suction he applied there made your toes curl into the plush moss beneath you.

With your eyes closed and your mouth slack-jawed from the pleasure his lips were wreaking where he worshipped your neck and chest, you knew without a doubt that today was just the beginning of the first of many firsts with Neteyam.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*** Author's Note:

If you've made it this far, THANK YOU for reading! <3 How did I do with this? It was very tricky to write at points, as I had to be mindful of the POV and the pronoun usage.

Leave me a line with your thoughts! <3 Could you relate to the protagonist in this? Did you feel what she felt? All the angst, her shyness, the fluff at the end...

On a side note, I love Mo'at always playing matchmaker. I always seem to write her with some cheek in her personality.

Want more Neteyam & Seyla? Check out Part II below which has a very steamy spice-extension. ;) Next Chapter: Part II - I Like Your Stars Better

[elliespillowprincess]

SHES MY DRUG

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pt 1

pt 2

pt 3

a/n: this is my first ever (kinda) fic so it kinda sucks and is all over the place.. rockstar/band ellie has been on my mind too much lately so yk i had to.

c/w: modern au, reader is in college (premed), biker ellie!!! smut next part!! mentions of smoking, drinking and drugs (reader and ellie), fem reader, plus size reader, insecure reader, fluff, abby is readers mean ex (abby lovers im sorry, i still love her) angst, body dysmorphia, fatphobia, race of reader not specified, TERRIBLY WRITTEN, not proofread

WHY YOU SHOULD NOT SUPPORT NEIL DRUCKMANN

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“hey did you hear about the music festival in town this weekend?” your friend, liliana, asks, making you wake up from the trance your computer put you in. you and liliana had been friends prior to college, meeting in your honors anatomy class in high school. with a similar career goal in mind, you two decided to go to the same college and become roomates. you two had been in your towns coffee shop for hours, trying to finish an assignment your biology professor gave you two.

“there’s a festival here? nobody ever comes out here.” you reply. nobody has ever done any concerts, festivals, or performances in your town. it was so small, they wouldn’t make enough profit so it just didn’t seem worth the trip. the only performances you ever saw were done by drunken men in your college bar.

“yeah! i don’t really know anyone that’s going though. it’d be nice to check out!”. she scrolls to find a post advertising the festival, with a list of who’s going. to nobody’s surprise, the list is small; 3 performers. “the tickets are only $50, we should go!!” she says whilst you’re reading the informative post. “i don’t know, lili, i mean who even are these people? is it even worth our money?” the idea of wasting your weekend at a festival, where you don’t know anyone playing, when you could be studying for finals makes you nervous.

“come onnn y/n, we can’t waste our uni years studying all the time! when we graduate, we’re gonna be swamped with med school work, might as well make the most out of the time we have!” liliana says cheerfully. sure, you could spare the hours, but you had so much on your plate. finals, work, and not even mentioning the fact you just broke up with your girlfriend of 4 years. you look at her face, she’s using puppy-dog eyes to hopefully persuade you into going. “i’ll think about it.”

you’re laying in your dorm room, back hunched over your laptop, with your hands in your hair. liliana was staying at her boyfriends house for the night, leaving you all alone. the amount of studying you’ve done in the past hours giving you a throbbing headache and double vision. you harshly close your laptop, saying “i’ll do it later.” in your head, lazily getting up to grab some advil from your medicine cabinet. you open the familiar bottle and pop a few pills into your mouth. walking to your bed, you plop down, and begin scrolling mindlessly on instagram.

then you remember what your friend was telling you about earlier, and you decide to look at your towns instagram. a new post making you curious as nothing had been posted since the fourth of july fireworks at the towns lake. you click on it, a flashy banner lighting up your screen.

GOLDWHIT GROVES FIRST EVER MUSIC FESTIVAL; FEATURING:

BEHIND THE ANGER

ELLIE WILLIAMS

DRAW MY BLOOD

THIS SATURDAY ONLY

you chuckle, finding the names of the bands amusing. one of them, however, drew your attention. the only one who was seemingly a solo performer, ellie williams. you decide to close your towns page and type the name into your search bar. your eyebrows raise at the amount of fan accounts this “ellie” has. you click on the only account with the blue verification symbol on it, her page filling your screen.

holy shit.

she was hot. like, really hot.

you click on her most recent post and it’s a video of her at one of her concerts. she’s playing an electric guitar furiously with gritted teeth. you hear girls screaming and see their hands reaching out trying to feel her. clearly, she craves all the attention so she pulls off her white wife beater, throwing it into the crowd. the screaming only intensifies as she has a douchey smile on her face. the video cuts of and you scroll through the different videos the post has, all of the same nature. you read the caption, “see you next time, dallas.” with no tags.

you open your messages app and begin typing to liliana.

you: ok maybe we should go to that festival i just stalked one of the performers and FUCKKK she’s hot

the bands have goofy names tho

“behind the anger” boy shaddup

you wait until you see the bubble appear, indicating she’s responding.

lili😦: TOLD U WE SHOULD GO! venmo me the money im buying tickets rn.

you laugh softly at her excitement to go, and open venmo, sending her $50. another message pops up.

lili😦: *photo attachment*

who were you looking at btw?

you open the message seeing the qr code for your ticket.

you: that ellie williams chick she looks like an asshole but a HOT asshole yk

i want her to play me like that guitar

gonna become a groupie😋

your tiredness takes over after texting lili for the past few hours, telling her goodnight and closing your phone.

the brightness of the morning sun wakes you up. it’s saturday, and thank GOD you had no classes today. you stay in your bed, opening tiktok. it kinda creeps you out that the first video is an edit of the girl you were gawking over last night. as the edit plays, you become even more excited for the festival later in the day. you look to the top of your screen for the time, 12:37. you partially curse yourself for letting yourself sleep in that late, getting up to brush your teeth.

lili😦: ARE U EXCITED FOR TN??

andrew is asking if he can come

smh he’s so clingy

kinda cute tho

the pinging of your phone causes you to finish brushing your teeth, spitting out the foam in your mouth and wiping your face.

you: i don’t mind

yall better not be like those concert couples

sitting on his shoulders n shit i’ll knock you off

you didn’t really mind as you’ve known andrew as long as you’ve know liliana. they’ve been together for the past six years, and you guys used to go on double dates with your ex all the time, it was like a little group.

lili😦: LMFAOOO we won’t

can we get ready tg 🥺

you have all the cute body glitter

you: sure come home whenever

you turn on the shower, grabbing a towel from the cabinet before hopping in. while washing your body, you begin thinking about what you’re gonna wear. you start to think about what ellie williams would notice you in, before laughing at yourself for being so delusional. she doesn’t know you, or care about you.

you’re just another girl.

hours had gone by, liliana and her boyfriend were hanging out at your shared apartment, pregaming and getting ready. the festival started at 4, and ended at 10. “hey y/n? where’s the-“ you walk in, and liliana is making a gawking face. “you look SO hot hello?” beaming at you. partially, you feel a little silly. you’re wearing the outfit she picked for you: a lacy cami, short black skirt, and a leather jacket. you have dark smudgey eye makeup, dark red lipstick, and star clips in your hair.

“i feel dumb.” you say, looking down and laughing at yourself. you never wore revealing clothes, being wayyyy too insecure to show yourself off this this. i mean, your boobs were spilling out of your shirt, your ass visible under your skirt, and your stomach uncovered. “shut the fuck up, you look good. we gotta leave soon- shit wait do you have pasties?”

as andrew drives the three of you to the concert, liliana in the front and you in the back, you become nervous. what if someone’s mean? what if something bad happens? what if it gets too cold? what if you start your period?

“y/n?” the calling of your name makes your head perk up. “we’re putting on that ellie chick, gotta know some of the music if you’re gonna SMASH her tonight!!” she says with a giggle. you roll your eyes as lili goes to her music app and selects her top song.

she’s my drug

the title pops up along with a photo of ellie lighting what looks like a joint. the song starts and it eases your nerves, her raspy voice over the melodic electric guitar makes a perfect combination. the excitement for the festival grows once again as the three of you near the festival.

you were kinda surprised at the amount of people that came. it looked like the entire town was there. there were a lot of unfamiliar faces wearing the bands merch. you saw a lot of girls wearing shirts with ellie williams’ tour dates on the back. “i hope the bands aren’t shit.” andrew says, laughing and getting out of the car. “at least we know one of the performers isn’t.” the three of you, out of the car, walk to the entrance. there were old-looking metal detectors that look like they were borrowed from the local police department. you all go through and have your bags checked and tickets scanned, walking towards the one and only stage.

the first band, behind the anger, got on stage. not many people were going crazy, but there were a few drunken men screaming their songs. liliana and andrew were enjoying them, but you were dying for something to drink, craving a shitty festival cocktail and a cigarette. tapping liliana on the shoulder, “hey, guys? i’ll be right back, i’m gonna grab something to drink.” you shout over the music. “alright, don’t take too long! your girlfriend should be out soon!” you roll your eyes laughing and shuffle your way out of the crowd.

walking up to the one and only vendor, you gaze on the menu. different beers, seltzers, cocktails, and liquors. “can i just cut infront of you? i gotta get up there soon.” you hear a voice behind you say. you turn around, partially offended and, holy shit.

it felt like a movie, a book, a fanfiction. what are the chances that she’s infront of you right now? you blink your eyes, not really believing what you’re seeing. nobody’s around you two besides the vendor, shocking as you’d expect girls flocking around her. it’s her. it’s ellie williams.

“excuse me?” you blurt out, not realizing how rude you sounded. i mean, you were just standing there, the only one in line, not moving. was it rude for her to ask. she kind of laughs at you, kissing her teeth. you got a good chance to look at her. she’s wearing cargo pants with a black wifebeater shirt that lifted slightly, allowing you to see what looks like abs, her tattoo covering her forearm, and her hair tied messily in a half-bun.

“i said,” she says, taking a half step towards you, “can i just cut infront of you?” you look around, dumbfounded. “no, you can’t. i’m ordering right now.” you say, matter-of-factly. you spin on your heels and order whatever shitty cocktail your eyes first land on and she chuckles at your behavior. the vendor types it into his tablet. “that’ll be $9.24. cash or card?” you open your purse, looking for the $10 bill you stuck in your purse for this exact reason. of course, like a fucking movie, it’s gone. “sorry just give me one sec.” you say, furiously looking through your purse, embarrassed.

“i got it, put it with mine. lemme get a rum coke.” the girl says flatly, slightly pushing you aside. you roll your eyes at the push and step aside, very embarrassed at the entire interaction. you grab a cigarette from your purse and attempt to light it, but the fluid is all out.

of course. how much more cliché could this get? ellie puts her card away in her wallet and shoves it into her front pocket as the vendor goes to make the two drinks. “need help?” she says, reaching her hand into her pocket and getting out a lighter, it was black and very scratched up. “these are bad for you, y’know?” she says in a cocky tone before grabbing her own and lighting it. the two of you were so far away from the rest of the crowd it that it was almost quiet.

“i’m studying to be a doctor, i know.” you say, the cigarette hanging limply between your lips still attempting to light it. “what’s a smart girl like you doing smoking and drinking then huh? you’re the one who’s supposed to tell people not to.” she says, bringing the lighter to the stick in your mouth and lighting it for you, the closeness of your face to her hands making you nervous. “pineapple cocktail and a rum coke?” you hear the vendor shout; the moment breaks and ellie pushes the lighter into her pocket before grabbing the two drinks, handing you yours before turning around and waving slightly, with the cigarette in her mouth.

“see you up there, doll.”

“bitch you will not believe what just happened” you say, finally making it back to where andrew and liliana were after having to shove through the crowd, almost spilling your drink all over yourself. “i just spoke t-“ the sound of screams interrupts your sentence and people push you and your friends forward, trying to get closer to the stage. you look up to see what is making people so eager, and see her. and holy shit, does she look good on stage. “how are we doing tonight, goldwhit grove?” she says into the mic, making the squeals of the girls around you erupt even louder, some drunkenly trying to take their shirts off before their more sober friends stop them.

after speaking into the mic for a bit about god knows what, you could barely hear her, she strums her guitar making people scream even louder. “what should we start out with?” she slurs into the mic. she looks like she’s on something, but what musician isn’t. you hear people screaming different names you haven’t heard of, before she says “she’s my drug? that’s all yall wanna hear.” she laughs before starting the song. it is her top song for a reason, it sounds phenomenal. you’re trying to enjoy your time, but the amount of people pushing you and stepping on your feet is annoying you.

after a few songs you hear her voice echo, “guys, let’s back it up a bit, you’re crushing people.” part of you wants to think she said that because she was looking at you, but you reality check yourself quickly. nobody listened, and you feel someone step on your heel for the hundredth time, finally deciding to say something.

“did you not hear her? i can barely breathe dude chill out.” you say to the drunken girl behind you. she looks angry, angry that you had the balls to speak up. she shoves you aggressively, making you bump into the person in front of you. now they’re mad at you too, for bumping into them so harshly. you try defending yourself when you feel a cold drink splashed on your chest. your final straw.

you shove your way out of the crowd, leaving behind your friends and deciding you’ll wait until ellie’s performance is over to join them again. once youre out, you make eye contact with the girl on stage. she has her head low and it almost looked like she was looking at you. you get lost on her, she’s playing so aggressively but strategically. before your imagination goes too far, you see her look around to the rest of the crowd, girls screaming when they look her direction.

you walk away, deciding to take a seat on the grass and light a cigarette while you wait. there were a lot of other people sitting around you, assuming they left for the same reason. you’re scrolling mindlessly on your phone until you hear a familiar voice.

“y/n?”

you look up, and it’s her. why the fuck did she have to be here? you were actually enjoying yourself, besides the few rude people, and she had to show up and ruin it all.

“what the fuck are you doing here abby?” you spit out. you’re furious. you haven’t spoken to her in a few weeks, and there were actually days you didn’t think about her at all. “hey, i was just trying to be nice. what are you all butt hurt about?” she says, towering over you sitting on the grass. she always made you feel small, not just physically, but mentally too. you sigh, not wanting to let her control your emotions any longer. the partially-distant sound of ellie’s guitar stopped, making it seem so much more quiet.

“you here with ava?” you spit out at her. she looks like she took that offensively, even though she was the one who cheated on you. “what’s that supposed to mean?” she says back, her tone becoming more aggressive. you push your cigarette into the grass, putting it out and standing up. “what are you wearing?” now that you’re closer, you notice her cheeks are red, and so are her eyes. she’s crossed. you know how she acts when she’s drunk, so you simply gather your things, trying to ignore the entire situation and join your friends. the people who were previously around you had gotten up to go back to the stage as ellie had gotten off.

“where are you going?” it sounds like she expects you to stay. to come running back. to cling to her. “to my friends.” you flatly state while walking away. you feel a hand grab your wrist. “i’m talking to you, y/n. it’s rude to walk away from people when they’re talking to you, y’know?” her tone is that of mockery. like you’re a child and she’s trying to teach you a lesson. “did the breakup make you gain that much weight? god i really ruined you huh?” you try to yank your hand away, “let go of me abby, seriously it’s not funny.” her grip doesn’t subside and only grows stronger, making you wince.

“she said no dude, can you not take a hint?”

you turn around and see ellie walking towards the conflict. this is so cliche. “are you a groupie now?” abby laughs at you, and as soon as she says that ellie shoves her off. as attractive as ellie was, abby was stronger. she was built, and she could take down almost anyone. “stop, this is dumb.” you say as they get close to each other. “yeah, yeah it is. don’t know why i’m getting all mad over a groupie slut. you can have her.” she says, walking out of the venue. you see a ditsy blonde girl following after her asking if she’s okay as she furiously walks, not responding to her. you try not to cry at her words, why does she still have such an effect on you?

“you okay?” you hear ellie asking you, almost forgetting she was there. “yeah- yeah. sorry about that. and thank you.” you say, extremely embarrassed while wiping your tears. she’s just looking at you. not saying anything. she didn’t know what to say.

“wanna go get a drink to cheer you up?”

that’s how you ended up in a random bar, with ellie fucking williams. after she asked you to drinks, she took you to the back stage, careful not to be spotted by any fans, where she grabbed her bags and headed for the exit. she was able to sober up before the ride home. while walking out, girls spotted her, running up and asking for her auto graph. she obliged for a few until one asked to sign her boobs, “i gotta go, girls.” her bodyguards following behind the two of you making them back off. you were expecting a van or a car, but no.

she rides a motorcycle.

she just got hotter.

lifting the seat, she tosses her bag into the large compartment, replacing the extra helmet which she handed to you. your heart was racing, you’ve never ridden on a motorcycle before. you nervously put the helmet on your head. “here, lemme help.” she says, pulling the band tightening the helmet ensuring it’s on tight, before tapping it lightly and swinging a leg over her motorcycle. she reached her bent elbow out, waiting for you to use her to help you get on. you grab onto her arm and swing your leg over, getting more comfortable.

“hold on.”

“so where’d you hear my music?” she says, babysitting another rum and coke looking at you intently. she was careful not to drink too much knowing she had to drive home. the two of you had been at the bar for two hours, just talking. a few people coming up every so often to get her autograph. “i actually just only heard about it the other day, through the festival.” you say shyly, hoping she won’t take offense. she laughs softly looking down. “i guess it’s a good thing for me huh? got another monthly listener and a pretty girl talking to me.” everything she says is so blunt, so easy.

you start to wonder how many other girls she’s charmed with the same line.

“wanna head out?” she says. “you can come back to mine- fuck, i can take you to yours. sorry, that sounded desperate.” she laughs, picking up the two helmets and your purse, handing it to you. with the bill paid, the two of you walked to her bike. she opens the door and waits for you to walk through.

“why don’t we go back to yours?” you say boldly. she looks surprised, and sets her helmet on her bike, placing yours gently on your head. she puts hers on, hops on the bike, and helps you get on.

“alrighty.”

you didn’t know how much you’d actually like being on a motorcycle. there’s so much adrenaline, she’s speeding through cars and air is whipping around the helmet. your chest is pushed tightly to her back, your hands wrapped around her waist. luckily, her wearing her helmet made it impossible for people to spot her, making it an easy ride back to her hotel, the only hotel in town. parking her bike in a designated spot, she holds her arm out allowing you to slide off easily, her following behind you. she opens up the bikes seat, grabbing her backpack, and locks it.

“we should hurry before someone spots you!” you giggle. the alcohol making you feel so light and ditsy, following her to her room like a lost puppy. she pulls the key out and unlocks it, holding the door for you and locking it after you. she tosses her things on the hotels desk as you lay down on her bed. smiling to yourself.

“what’cha smiling about pretty girl?”

you giggle, tapping the bed indicating her to lay next to you. “this doesn’t feel real” you laugh out as she crawls on the bed, “i mean, im living every gay girls dream right now, hello? i’m in a hotel with ellie *hic* williams!!” she laughs at your drunken state, reaching to the bedside mini fridge to grab a seltzer. “you’re cute, y/n”. your ears kinda perk up, not remembering when you told her your name.

“how do you know my name?” you say, squinting your eyes at her. she cracks open the can. “calm down, princess, i heard it when that dick was talking to you earlier.” you notice she becomes a little annoyed. “i’m glad i took money out of her pocket but fuck, i got douches at my show.” she takes a long drink from her can. your rose-colored glasses didn’t even care about abby right now, or how much ellie hated her from their first interaction, you just wanted more of her.

you snuggle closer to her, wanting to breathe her in. you’re on the left side of her, laying on your side as she’s on her back. the level of intimacy between the two of you makes your head spin. you guys just met. part of you feels bad that she, a fucking rockstar, probably wants more than a simple conversation and cuddling. you sit up slightly, trying to remove your shirt, “hey, what are you doing?” she says, looking confused. you’re struggling to take your shirt off, it being tight and you being drunk. “feel bad. you probably get girls eeeeveryday doin this.. know why you’s wanted m’here so- so i’ll do it.” your works are slurring and hardly making sense and you’re starting to get frustrated. partially from not being able to take off the uncomfortable shirt, and part from not wanted anything sexual now, not in this state and not when you hardly know her.

she grabs your hands and stops you, making you look at her. “hey, i don’t wanna do anything, ‘kay? we can watch a movie after i get you some clothes to change into.” you put your arms down watching her get up and get an oversized band tee. “don’know if it’ll fit, els.” you say, sadly. she turns around, waiting for you to try it on. “just try it, princess.” you try taking the shirt off again, but just can’t. you get so frustrated you start tearing up, making her turn around and help you. “m’gonna take it off okay?” you nod, lifting your arms as she helps you take your shirt off. “don’t look!!” you say, laughing and pushing her away. she turns around, laughing, “okay, okay” allowing you to put the shirt on and take your bra off from under the shirt. finally, you slip your skirt off.

“done!” you say, smiling watching her turn around as she makes eye contact with you, her face turning pink. she walks towards you, smiling down at you on the bed. “wanna watch a movie?” she asks, picking up a remote and a bag of what looks like joints, pulling one out along with the lighter in her pocket. you nod, asking “can i have one?” she closes the bag, replying “you’re way too drunk, sweetheart.” she flicks on the tv, putting on whatever shitty movie was playing on the hotel tv at the time. you both crawl under the bed, cuddling up into her. you hear a familiar click of the lighter, and the sound of the paper and weed burning. she plays with your hair, making you more and more sleepy, drifting off into a deep sleep state.

the next morning, you wake up unsure of where you are. you look around the room, its messy and there’s clothes, food, and drinks everywhere. you lift your head and look to the right and see none other, than ellie williams.

what the fuck happened last night?

[spooky-pomegranate]

Eyes on Fire (pt 3)

*Enemies to Lovers inspired by the Year Zero music video*

Papa Emeritus II x Reader (18+) Word Count: 2.8k (Read on AO3) Last Part: (Part 1) (Part 2) Next Part: (Part 4)

Summary: Secondo recounts the best and worst night of his life. You are taken to a special place in the Abbey full of magic and perhaps something more sinister.

(Dividers by @wrathofrats)

When the tendrils of sleep blackened the edges of his vision and he slipped into unconscious Secondo often remembered that night.

Sin and revelry.

Opulence and greed.

Tradition and pride.

Failure.

He partook as his father had. As his father’s father had. As his father’s father’s father had. Like the men before him, Secondo played the part of a new Papa well on the night of his ascension and everything had gone to plan … until it hadn’t.

The Abbey had been dressed in his new colors. Emerald green banners hung from the halls, table runners of a similar shade decorated the dining rooms, and hundreds of flowering bouquets of green calla lilies scented the air. The siblings had affectionately dubbed the rapid overnight changes to the Abbey “The Great Green Wave.”

The festivities had started in the early morning. A feast was held in Secondo’s honor. Brothers, sisters, bishops, and cardinals had come from near and far to celebrate. They followed him all day, presenting him with gifts and showering him with praises. In the evening, he delivered his first Black Mass and unveiled the design of his piercing papal paints to an adoring clergy. They had cheered for him and sung his name. Secondo felt proud.

He was of course aware of the ulterior motives from some. Social climbers were everywhere and as Papa, his coattails would be heavier with more of them clinging on for crumbs of his power. But for the most part, on his ascension day, Secondo let pride rule.

But everything changed in the catacombs.

The night before his ascension day Primo, as the most recent Papa to rule, had come to his younger brother to explain what would happen down below… or at least what was supposed to happen down below.

The catacombs were the site of the last tradition Secondo would need to complete before officially becoming Papa Emeritus II. Primo explained that on an onyx altar deep in the catacombs there was an old leather-bound book. The book had been in the Emeritus family for as long as there had been a church. It was a gift to their family from the Old One himself, written in the blood of the fallen and created from the ashes of the ninth circle. But the book was more than just a relic of the underworld. As Primo explained, the tome was a link between the world of the living and the world of the dead. And on the very special night of a Papal ascension, the Dark Lord used the book to speak directly with the newly anointed Papa. Secondo would be able to ask Him questions and together they would establish a path for his papacy.

But when the time came and Secondo stood before the old book… nothing happened.

He read every page. And then he read them again and again and again and again. For hours, Secondo stared at the unholy text until his eyes burned and his head hurt. But he didn’t care. He didn’t move. Secondo pushed aside the pain, shoving it somewhere deep, and ignored his bodily needs. Eventually, the sun rose and the first day of his papacy began. But Secondo remained underground. He denied visitors, turning away assistants, ghouls, his father, and his brothers. He refused food, drink, and rest whenever offered. He stayed rooted to the same spot on the stone floor hoping that His voice would finally call out.

When Secondo missed the next evening's Black Mass rumors swirled around the Abbey. But he didn’t hear them. He remained in the catacombs for three days and four nights. He would have stayed longer, but the lack of food and water eventually took a heavy toll on his body and Secondo collapsed on the fourth night.

In the weeks that passed, Secondo began his duties as Papa. But every night like the moon to the night sky, he obediently returned to the catacombs. But no matter how hard he prayed or how much he bargained… it never happened.

As far as he knew, Secondo was the first Papa in a long line of Emeritus’s to enter his papacy without guidance from the One Below. The thought kept him up most nights. Secondo would toss and turn worrying about what he’d done to displease his Lord. He recounted every moment of his life hoping for a moment of clarity so he could amend and atone. But nothing ever came.

Stubborn as an ox however Secondo remained determined. In the waking hours, he scoured the church’s library for answers, reading books from the private Papal-restricted sections and ancient tomes long forgotten. He focused intently on his religious duties and presented as many offerings to the Old One as he could, indulging in sins he knew He enjoyed.

Day in and day out Secondo’s life became about service to his Master and so did his papal reign.

Secondo was aware his consuming attentions warped his reputation. He became known as a cruel and bitter Papa, but it was only because he pushed his flock to be their best when mediocracy was easier. Any assistant who missed evening prayer was replaced, any cook who forgot to bless his meal was reassigned, and any Ghoul who disrespected the Old One was returned to Him.

There were no exceptions. No exclusions. Except for one. Except for you.

A week had gone by since Secondo promoted his first Imperatrixes. They had been subservient, attentive, and sufficient. At each meal they had followed his instructions and served him according to the old traditions, lighting the sacred black candles and kneeling silently for his prayer. But for a week, you stood out from the rest. You didn’t want to be there. That was clear as day. You would hide in the shadows and keep your head bowed. And true to your word you hadn’t participated in a single offering. Instead, choosing to skulk out to the butler's pantry like a kitchen mouse at the end of each meal.

The rational part of Secondo wanted to send you back to Primo and his gardens. The more irrational part of him despised you….hated you, even wanted you out of the church. In your chambers you had been openly combative with him, speaking to him in a tone no one else dared. Santana’s how he had wanted to put you in your place then and send you out the door.

The gall. The god-forsaken gall!

And the way you had stepped to him and cocked your little chin up. The way your chest had puffed up like small prey pretending to be a big predator. The way you had squinted your bright eyes and crinkled your little nose. Lying in his bed he replayed it all again and again and again. For a week he fell asleep with only the image of your stormy eyes in his mind.

But Secondo never sent you to Primo. He never let that part of his mind win because he reminded himself of the fire. He reminded himself of how it had burned uncontrollably when you looked at one another. It had to have been a sign. Secondo was sure. Absolutely certain. In all the books he’d read Satan’s favorite way to message the living was always through hellfire. What happened in the dining room was surely the Dark Lord's first attempt to communicate with him. There could be no other explanation.

But since that night nothing else extraordinary had happened. In the daylight when you shared space no more hellfire erupted and at night when he returned alone to the book in the catacombs no words were spoken.

But ever-stubborn Secondo wasn’t going to let you go.

He had a plan. He would see the fire again. He would hear his voice.

“Get out.”

“What?”

“Leave us.” Secondo’s leather glove wrapped around your wrist and you felt your pulse spike.

“H-have we o-offended you, Papa?” Sister Rose’s voice shook. She along with your other Sisters hadn’t seen this sudden outburst coming. Everyone panicked.

“There has been no offense sorella but tonight I will dine with her alone.”

You started to speak when Secondo suddenly tugged you closer causing you to clumsily trip over the frayed edges of the oriental rug on the floor. The corners of your vision blurred in dizzying motion as you hurtled forward straight toward the corner of the large walnut table. You closed your eyes, bracing for the inevitable impact….but it never came.

Just as quickly as you had fallen the hand circling your wrist shot to your waist and pulled upright. In the dark, you felt the brush of silk robes and the surprisingly strong muscles hidden underneath them. You sharply inhaled. The air smelled of sweet tobacco and flowering incense. You listened to his breathing. Deep and steady against your ears. Calm like a river. For a moment, it was nice. To be held. To feel safe in strong arms. To have someone keep you close. To have someone protect you, even if it was from just a table. It was nice to be in someone’s arms. It had been so long.

But when he spoke the spell was broken and you remembered just who exactly was holding you tight.

“You are dismissed sorellas. Go in sin.” Secondo’s warm glove slid from your waist. As the last of your sisters excited the dining room, he moved slowly to the fireplace at the other side and stared into the flames. The scent of him lingered behind him. Sweet and smoky.

“Take a seat sorella.” You did as he asked and pulled out the dining chair closest to you. Secondo turned and tutted.

“No,” he said sternly shaking his head. “Sit here by my chair. There is much we need to discuss and I do not wish to shout all evening.”

Fuck.

Your heart banged so violently against your ribs that you worried the bones might break.

For the past week, you’d managed to avoid Secondo’s wrath by sticking to your duties and slipping away before he took one of your siblings. He’d never asked you to partake again but you worried now he’d changed his mind. If he was going to give you an ultimatum you were ready to pack your bags and run.

Never in a million years would you willing touch Secondo. Unless of course, he was keeping you from smashing your face into a table. But that was different.

“Of course Papa.” You obediently moved to the chair beside his. “Have I done something wrong?”

Secondo eyed you as he took his seat at the head of the table. His expression was cold, but you couldn’t read it further. His papal paint hid his true emotions.

“I have spent many hours thinking about our last discussion and I have…” Secondo paused and you balled your fist in worry under the table “Frankly sorella I have concerns.”

“Concerns Papa?”

“Si. I am worried that you have lost your way.”

Your mind raced with all the things you could have possibly done wrong. There had been nothing. You’d been the shining example of obediency. "Lost my way, Papa? I'm just trying to serve you and the Old One as best I can."

Secondo leaned back in his chair. “I understand that, but there's more to serving the Dark Lord than merely following instructions. You seem disconnected, almost as if you're not fully committed to our faith."

"I assure you, Papa,” you stammered, “my faith is unwavering. I simply want to honor your teachings and serve Him to the best of my ability."

Secondo looked at you for a long moment. His piercing white eye made you feel small… as though you were being judged by the Old One himself. "That may be the case, but I fear your mind does not reflect your words.”

You frowned and looked down at your hands. A strange tightness twisted in your chest. What was he talking about? You had been faithful and obedient, hadn't you? Sure you weren’t always the rule follower that some of the meeker and younger siblings tended to be but that wasn’t against His teachings. Free will was just as important as the prayers. So what if you’d snuck off to the ghoul dens and ate fruit from his pantry? What did that matter?

"I don't understand, Papa. What do you require of me that I'm not doing?"

Secondo took a deep breath. "It's in your eyes, sorella. There's a fire there, a defiance that tells me you're hiding something. Something you shouldn't be."

In your eyes? In your fucking eyes?!

What the hell was he talking about?

Your heart pounded in your ears, and you tried to hide the sudden fury that overcame you. You reached up to cover your face, attempting to smooth away any traces of your anger that had bubbled to the surface. "Papa, I assure you, I am not hiding anything.” Other than my consuming hatred of you. “And I have done exactly as you have asked."

“If that is true then I would like to ask one more thing of you.”

“Name it.”

“I want you by my side for every hour of the waking day. I want you with me always. Sorella… become my assistant.”

Any hope of reigning in your emotions burned alive. You erupted.

“I’d rather die.”

There it was.

You may have slipped on the mask of a brava sorellina for a week but Secondo knew…that wasn’t who you were. This was. Insubordinate. Reckless. A lost and wayward soul. Una diavolessa laid at his feet. A challenge given to him by Satan himself.

It all made sense.

He understood the fire now. It had been a sign from the Dark One. He’d put you here as a test. Secondo would need to lead you back into the light of the Morning Star. And no matter the cost he would pay it. He would redeem you by whatever means necessary. He would make you a shining member of His church an example for all to see. 

As Papa Emeritus the Second it was his duty and he would not fail… because through you he knew would finally be able to speak to the Old One. He just had to break you and mold you back together in His image.

And he would break you. 

“Eat up, diavolessa. I want to show you something.”

Dinner was unbearable, but somehow you survived.

Luckily the food had been delicious and the wine plentiful. Neither you nor Secondo had spoken until your plates and glasses were empty. Only then did he ask you to accompany him to the catacombs, and against all sound judgment you agreed. That’s how you found yourself deep underground with Papa Emeritus the Second staring at an ancient book on a black altar.

“Do you know what this is sorella?”

“No, Papa.”

“Come closer.”

For the second time that evening, Secondo’s gloved hand wrapped around your wrist and he tugged you closer, pulling you roughly toward toward the strange-looking book.

On its cover were carved images of demons and the Morning Star. The pages were thick and yellowed, and as Secondo opened them, you felt a chill run down your spine. You had heard tales of these ancient tomes, forbidden and guarded with great secrecy by the ranks of the church. They were said to contain powerful magic, capable of summoning demons and divulging the future. And there, in front of you, was one such book. You could feel its power. You wondered if it was alive.

“He wrote this didn’t he?”

Secondo nodded.

“Why are we here, Papa?”

“I want to read it to you.”

As Secondo began to recite from the ancient text, the air in the catacombs grew thicker, charged with an ethereal energy that sent shivers down your spine. The words were in a language you couldn't understand, a twisted blend of Latin and an unknown primal tongue that clawed its way into your mind. As Secondo continued, the torches flickered and dimmed, casting long shadows that danced across the walls like spectral figures. The ground beneath your feet felt uneasy and you knew the earth was trembling in response to dark magic.

You tried to pull away from Secondo's grip but his hold on your wrist tightened. You couldn’t breathe. You wanted to run. To scream. To beg him to stop. To hide from whatever was about to happen but just as you thought you couldn't bear it a second longer, a low rumbling echoed through the chamber and the lights went out completely. 

Then you were falling.

Down.

Down.

Down.

Somewhere in the distance, Secondo screamed your name. But just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over. You landed with a jolt on solid ground and the impact knocked the wind from your lungs. Gasping for air, you struggled to make sense of your surroundings. Everything was pitch-black. The ground beneath you felt like dirt instead of stone. Sulfur and ash wafted through the air.

"Papa, where are you? Papa? Secondoooo?!"

A deep voice roared from the darkness. “Do you miss him already child?” 

(Follow along on AO3 here) NEXT: PART 4

[noahsmuse]

close to you ♡

✮ PAIRING: noah sebastian x popstar!reader

✮ SUMMARY: headcannons showcasing the relationship between two opposing ends of the music industry with a popstar!reader and noah sebastian!

✮ A/N: again, thank you all for the support on my last few posts!!! if you have any requests for something you’d like to see me write, don’t hesitate to send it in ᵔᴗᵔ

moodboard inspired by headcannons located -> here!!!!!!! 🪩🎤✨

୨୧ it all started when you mentioned how Bad Omens was one of your favorite bands in a magazine interview and people went CRAZY. bad omens fans eventually found it and started sharing it around, so happy that they share a common interest with an artist they’re very familiar with.

୨୧ this takes noah a few days until he sees what you said as he isn’t on social media as much anymore, i feel like one of the guys would ask if he’s seen it and then they’d show it to him which is how he’d probably find out

-> he had known about you before just from listening one of your songs that has recently blown up and thought it was really good but didn’t think too much about it

୨୧ because you both share the same record label, at some type of party they were throwing is where you both met!!!!! i feel like noah would spot you out first and try to make some type of conversation with you since he remembered about how positively you talked about the band

-> the night ended with you walking out with noah’s number and ever since that night, there wasn’t a single day that went by without either of you having a conversation whether it was via text, call, or facetime. you both also ended up finding out that you had A LOT in common, by the ways you make music, the media you both consume and are really into

୨୧ as your relationship progresses over the phone, the opportunity finally shows itself since you both are on a break from touring, he decides that it’s a perfect time to ask you on a date!!!!

-> he picks you up with some of your favorite flowers in his hand that he had just bought earlier while thinking back to a random conversation you two had on the phone about flowers, opens the car and door for you, and ends up paying for both of the sweet treats & drinks you both order. he’s just such a gentleman and wants to impress you :(

୨୧ and while the date seems to be going well when the two of you end up leaving, your bombarded with flashing lights and cameras all in the both of your faces. noah tries his best to cover you both up the most he can while taking the lead back to his car

-> when he drops you off and walks you back to your house door is also when he officially asks you to be his girlfriend and obviously you accept?!?!

୨୧ i definitely think that your relationship would be more of a “private but not secret” situation since you’re both in the spotlight with fans and paparazzi everywhere waiting to make a new headline about how perfect you both look for each other :)

-> also along with the “private but not secret” idea, people notice how you wear a lot of his hoodies and shirts in your off time along with some bad omens merch that you’ve either stole from him or that he’s gave you (people also see him wearing your merch & putting some of your songs into his spotify playlists as support for you)

୨୧ he’s VERY protective of you considering how much of a following you and him have combined so he always loves to hold your hand or waist just to make sure you’re safe at all times :)

୨୧ you’ve both definitely helped each other through the negatives about being in the music industry with things like writers blocks, burnouts, insecurities, and doubts throughout your careers

-> (since he’s so talented & amazing) he’d definitely help record, write, and engineer songs for your next album or maybe just for fun because he just loves spending time with you while doing something you both enjoy!

୨୧ he LOVES to come and support you during your performances wither it’s at a festival or during your own headliners!!!! fans usually notice him either sitting side stage or in the grassy areas around the pit where he’ll be watching you, sometimes they see him singing along to your songs and even taking photos & videos of you up on stage, he just loves watching you doing what you enjoy :)

-> and same thing for when you go to their concerts & festivals that bad omens is performing for ♡

୨୧ whenever the both of you start going down a flight of stairs or a hill, he’ll always run in front of you so he can hold your hand to “prevent you from falling” (when really this is just a way for him to hold your hand) because of how you’re usually always wearing shoes with a heel that could potentially harm you

୨୧ he’s always talking about you no matter it’s whether about making music with you or the cute little date you both went on the other day, he’s just so obsessed and amazed that he’s your boyfriend

-> and yes, the boys do make fun of how he doesn’t shut up about you but they also usually ask about how you’re doing or how the date that he mentioned he was going on with you went :)

୨୧ you two are like the people’s prince & princess!!! everyone loves you guys & the little “opposites attract” dynamic since you’re usually in brighter colors with sparkles while he’s wearing all black. interviewers are always asking about y’all’s relationship, the fans love you both and everything you guys do is iconic!!!!!!!

🪩 ☆⌒｡˚✧✨

[amelia-acero]

Hi, my name is Amelia and this my first time writing in very long minute, but I got inspired by the lovely @thefallennightmare , she’s become my favorite writers on this app, with all that being said, someone requested a head canon of the reader having a cryptic pregnancy, she wrote out the head canon and it reminded me so much of my best friend going through that too. I got inspired by it and decided to put my spin in it. So without further ado, please enjoy. I’m gonna use character names, but please feel free to use your own preferred names.

“Oof, damn it that hurt.” Anya whispered to herself, rubbing her back from the most recent cramp out of many for the day.

She was folding up the merch table and boxes of unsold merch from the most recent Bad Omens concert, they were currently in their last show of the tour in Sacramento and we’re all getting ready to head back to their homes. Half in Los Angeles, including her and the other half in Virginia.

“Is your back still hurting darling?” she heard a familiar voice ask. She turned around and saw Noah standing there, looking at her with concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, but this time it felt stronger than the others and now it’s coming every 30 minutes and lasts about five minutes.”

”Would you listen to me if I told you to head to urgent care and get yourself checked out?”

She shook her head while folding up the last box of tshirts.

”I already know what they’re going to say, ‘You have irregular periods, ma’am, It’s just probably your period coming in again.’”

Noah just nodded, after working with them and being on tour with them since their album Finding God, Before God Finds Me came out, they had gotten to know each other and began to really know each other after being in a relationship for almost two years. Noah took the box that Anya was holding and helped put it in the truck where their equipment and merch was being held.

“Come on, let’s get back inside and I’ll make you chamomile tea to soothe your cramps. When did they start?” Noah took off the jacket that he was wearing and put it around Anya’s shoulders, knowing that when she had cramps the cold never did her any favors.

Anya nodded and pulled his jacket closer to her body, while slightly admiring Noah’s body. Something about Noah after a concert always made her want him, but sadly tonight was not going to be one of those nights.

”They started around noon, but only recently they started coming in slightly quicker.”

They reached the door of the tour bus and went inside where the rest of the band was waiting for them.

“We ready to head home?” Matt asked.

Everyone on the bus cheered and loud music began to play from hip-hop to rap to country anything the boys could use to celebrate going home after a long 11 months of back to back tours across North America, South America, Europe and Japan with Bring Me The Horizon, Sleep Token, and Dayseeker. Everyone was more than ready to be back home, none more than Anya; she wanted nothing more to sleep off her cramps and just get enough rest before going through festival season all through California. Noah went to the kitchen part of the bus and poured a water bottle into the kettle, and turned it on. Once the water was ready, he poured the water in a mug and put the tea bag in the mug, and carefully handed it to Anya. She let the boys enjoy festivities and went to the back of the bus and closed the door to get some peace and quiet, drinking the tea Noah had made. After about 3 hours into the drive, she woke up and found that the rest of the bus had quieted down and possibly had fallen asleep. She however was not feeling anymore peaceful and in fact was feeling worse.

“Ahh fuck.” She whispered to herself.

She tried to stand up and sat back down again, the pain being worse than before. She was no longer able to fully stand on her own. Another cramp passed through her and unlike the ones before, this was intense. Anya wrapped her arms around herself and the pain caused her to groan, she tried her best to be quiet to not disturb the guys in case they were asleep. After what felt like forever, she felt someone else’s presence, Anya looked up and saw Noah look at her with concern and fear. He knelt down and tried to sit her up, but instead she just slumped her head on his shoulder.

“Ok, for once this time can you please listen to me when I tell you that I’m going to tell Matt to stop the bus so we can go to the ER. This is way past urgent care at this point.” He said, cradling her head in his hand

”Noah, I promise that I’m fine. It’s just my period about to start.” She said, trying not to worry him.

He gave her a look that clearly said he didn’t believe her for one minute.

“Darling, I’ve seen you on your period, this is way beyond that. Stay here , I’m going to check if Matt or Bryan are awake to help us.”

Noah got up and left the back, after about a long 10 minutes, he came back with Matt, if he was asleep before, he clearly wasn’t anymore after taking one look at Anya.

“Holy Fuck, how long have you been like this?” Matt asked

”I’ve been feeling shitty all day, but it just started feeling worse about almost two hours ago.” Anya said.

Matt knelt down and to get his arm around her.

”Alright man, let’s get her up.” Matt said.

Noah and Matt stood on either side of her and put her arms around their shoulders. As soon as she was up, Anya gasped and felt something warm and wet trickling down her legs. She looked down and saw that her sweats were soaked. Whatever pain she felt was now intensified by tenfold. She bent over and fell back on the floor when the next cramp started again, this one almost causing her to yell out loud.

“Oh fuck, I’ll go tell the driver to drive to the closest hospital, I think were in Fresno right now.” Matt said.

Everyone started to look out their bunks and saw Anya laying on the floor with Noah right at her side. After that everyone immediately woke up and began to help in any way they could.

The bus stopped and without hesitating, Noah picked up Anya and carried her in his arms. He carried her out the bus and through the hospital doors.

”Can we get some help here?” Jolly yelled out

In an instant two nurses, one male and one female came up, and another nurse brought a gurney. Anya could no longer and started yelling out at the pain. Noah placed her on the gurney and was hesitant to let go of her hand.

“Sir, we got her and we’ll get her situated and figure out what’s going on.”

Noah nodded, but was slow to let go of her hand. Anya was wheeled into a private room, and immediately her shirt was raised exposing her abdomen.

“Ma’am we need you to stay still just long enough to see what is going on.”

Anya was writhing around in pain and screamed at the pain, but something felt different, something hard coming out of her.

”I can’t, I feel something coming out.”

The nurses looked up at each other, grabbed a scissor and cut Anya free from her sweats and underwear. The sight astonished them, they looked and saw a head crowning. From that they got a hospital gown on her and immediately moved her into a different room.

“What’s your name sweetie?” The nurse asked.

”Anastasia Mendoza, but I go by Anya.”

“Anya sweetie, I need you to listen to me very carefully, you’re having a baby sweetie and the baby is coming out now sweetie.”

At those words, the world felt like it stopped and Anya looked up at the nurse.

“That’s not possible, I’m not pregnant.”

”Sweetie, unless my eyes deceive me, this baby is ready to come out, whether you like it or not. Now, do you know who the father is and where he is?”

Anya remembered all the times she slept with Noah and realized the possibility of her being pregnant was true, they weren’t truly safe in their sexual activities, but because of her irregular periods, she thought the possibility of her getting pregnant would be slim. She looked at the nurse.

”He’s the one who carried me in the waiting room. His name is Noah Sebastian.”

She nodded and told the male nurse and began to hook her up to machines and heart rate monitors for both her and the baby, and put her feet in the stirrups.

Outside in the waiting room, Noah, Jolly, Nicholas, Folio, Matt and Bryan were all waiting on news, Noah was walking back and forth. Not knowing made his anxiety skyrocket.

”Noah, she’s getting checked out, she’ll be fine, now stop walking back and forth, because I’m getting dizzy watching you.” Folio said.

”Don’t ask me to stop man, Anya’s back there and I don’t know what’s going on with her.”

The male nurse helping Anya came out.

”Noah Sebastian?”

Noah looked and immediately went up to him, along with the rest of the guys.”

“How is Anya doing? Is she alright?”

“Relax sir, everything is fine, both her and the baby are alright. Now if you can follow me, I need you to put on a hospital gown. Right now gentleman, I just need Mr. Sebastian, we can let you know when they can accept visitors.”

In his anxiety induced haze he didn’t catch his mention of the baby. Noah followed behind the nurse and Nicholas stood there thinking over what the nurse just said.

“Did he just say what I think he said?” Nicholas asked.

”If you’re thinking he said baby, then yes, I heard him too.” Bryan said.

Everyone was thinking about the signs they could’ve missed and all the signs that could’ve given away her being pregnant.

“I didn’t even know Anya was pregnant, why didn’t she tell us?” Folio asked

”Man, I don’t think Anya even knew herself.” Matt said.

”I think we should create a baby basket and start ordering what they're definitely going to need now.” Jolly said.

They all left the hospital and began to head to the nearest Target.

”Wait, what about Noah? I don’t think he heard about the part with the baby.” Nicholas asked.

“I think he’ll figure it out when he sees the baby come out dude. Come on.” Matt said

Noah walked to the room while putting on the hospital issued scrub gown and looked up and saw the sign reading ‘MATERNITY WARD’.

“Are you sure I’m in the right place? My girlfriend isn’t pregnant.”

”You’ll see sir.”

He reached the room and saw Anya on the bed and immediately rushed to her side. Anya screaming her head off from the pain and white knuckling the bed rails. She saw him and immediately held on to his hand.

”What is going on?” Noah asked.

”Sir, you're aware that your girlfriend is having a baby right?”

Noah’s eyes widened and realized that this was happening right now, from the bassinet on the side of the bed to everything included in having a baby. At his delayed response, one of the nurses looked at him.

”Sir, if you’re going to faint, just know that we’ll ignore you, because right now we're focused on mom and baby.”

Noah focused on what was going on and gripped Anya’s hand just as hard.

”It’s ok darling, I’m here. Let's do this, you can do this.”

Anya nodded and cried out.

”Ok sweetie, on three you’ll push and push for 10 seconds. One, Two. Three. Push!”

Anya gripped Noah’s hand and began to push.

”Push, Push, Push, Push, Push.” One of the nurses said. After 10 seconds of pushing, Anya couldn’t push anymore.

”Ok, take a quick breather sweetie and then we’ll start again.”

Anya shook her head.

”I can’t, it’s too much. It hurts so bad.”

Noah kissed Anya’s forehead.

”Darling, I’m here. Whatever you need, I’m here. You want to break my hand holding it? Do it. Scream my ear off? Scream.” Noah said.

Anya looked up at him.

”Oh my god, we’re actually having a baby right now.” Anya breathed in, sweat sliding down her forehead and her hair clinging onto her head. “Oh my god, we’re having a baby and we have nothing prepared, no clothes, no diapers, no food, nothing.” Anya said, the heart monitor picking up the increase in her heart rate.

”We can worry about that later darling, right now let’s just focus on you and the baby.” Noah said.

”All right sweetie, let’s get ready to push again.” The nurse said.

”On three sweetie, One. Two. Three. Push!”

Anya pushed and pushed the pain becoming unbearable by the second.

“Alright, the head is out, come on sweetie, just a little bit more.”

Anya pushed even harder, Noah looked over and saw the baby’s head and shoulders come out and eventually it’s whole body, the cold in the room making the baby cry out.

“It’s a boy!” The doctor announced.

“Nurse, Date of birth is September 3rd, 2023 and time of birth is 3:23am.”

They took the baby to clean him up and wrapped him up. The baby was crying loudly and when the baby touched Anya’s chest, the baby immediately stopped crying. Afterwards the placenta came and they took it away to ensure that nothing was missing.

“Alright sweetie, you’re going to feel a slight pinch, you tore a little bit, so we’re gonna get you stitched up.”

Anya and Noah both focused on the baby, just absentmindedly nodded. Anya didn’t realize until she felt the prick of the needle. Afterwards it felt like nothing.

“A baby boy Noah, what should we name him?” Anya said, looking up at Noah.

”I don’t know? I’m still trying to reel in from the fact that we became parents without realizing we were becoming parents.”

”Did you notice anything?”

”I mean, I noticed that your breasts were becoming slightly bigger than normal, but I didn’t think twice about it.”

”I also thought my bras and pants were slightly tighter than normal, but I didn’t think about it either, and you know how my periods are at this point, pregnancy was the last possibility on my mind.”

After about 30 minutes of cleaning up Anya, Noah took off his shirt to do skin to skin contact with the baby. Noah held the baby and fed him some formula, while Anya took a well deserved nap. About two hours passed before a flash caught his attention. It was Bryan and Matt, they came in with a diaper bag, filled to the brim and Bryan had his camera on him, ready to take the next picture.

”Hey man, congratulations!!” They yelled out, but Noah was ready to shut them up to not wake up Anya or the baby. Matt put the baby bag in another guest chair.

“Congratulations!” They whispered.

“How’s Anya doing?” Matt asked. Walking over to look at the baby.

Noah looked at her and smiled warmly, that sight was enough to get another picture out of Bryan.

“She did amazing, terrified, but amazing.”

”Yeah, no shit.” Matt said. “Oh fuck! Can I curse around the baby? Oh fuck it, the baby won’t remember this.”

“The baby might not, but I will, so no cursing around my baby.” A sleepy voice joined in. All three men joined to look at Anya. Noah quickly walked to her side, helping her sit up.

”How are you feeling darling?”

”Like a baby I didn’t know I was pregnant with came out of me.” She joked. The baby began fussing at his mother’s voice and Anya began to reach for the baby. Noah helped with handing the baby to her and put his shirt back on.

”Watch his head.”

”I know.”

Once the baby was safely in Anya’s arms. The baby began to settle, Anya looked up at Noah and gave him a loving look.

”I love you so much.” Anya said.

”I love you more.” Noah said. “Please let’s not find out you’re pregnant like this again.” He joked.

Anya giggled, another flash went off and Bryan looked at the camera.

”Speak for yourself, I thought I was going to die.”

”Ha! That shit was terrifying, so please don’t do it again.” Matt said.

Everyone in the room laughed.

“Hey where’s the guys?” Noah asked.

”I’m pretty sure they’re all looking at baby stuff, Matt and I were in charge of the baby bag, and last we saw, Folio and Jolly were arguing about which crib looked cooler and Nick was getting all the stuff you guys actually needed for right now. He’s getting you guys a car seat, he said he’ll rent a car to get you back to LA, while the rest of us go back on the bus.” Bryan said. “We also brought you guys some extra clothes too.”

“ Thank you guys.” Noah said.

“That’s amazing of Nick, I actually didn’t think of it.” Anya said.

”Have you thought of a name yet?” Bryan said.

”To be honest, nothing on my end. Anything on your end love?” Anya asked.

“Nothing on my end either.” Noah said.

Matt and Bryan both got a chance to hold the baby and Bryan got more photos, eventually Nick, Jolly, and Folio came and wished their congratulations, they all brought their own gifts. After a long argument with each other, Jolly finally explained the crib that he chose for the baby and that it was going to be delivered to Noah’s house. Everyone got a chance to also hold the baby as well and a few more pictures were taken by Bryan, afterwards everyone left the new happy family to enjoy their time together.

Anya was holding the baby while she was breastfeeding him. She looked up at Noah and gave him a deep kiss. She looked back at the baby and stared at him with a new found maternal love.

“Do you think we’re ready or will ever be with our new roles as parents?” Anya asked.

“Absolutely not, but as long as I have you and him by my side, we can figure it out together.”

”We really should come up with a name though, I don’t know how much longer I can go with calling our son ‘Baby Boy Sebastian’” Anya chuckled.

”I think I have one in mind.”

She looked down and caressed his hands that held a very special name.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Noah asked.

”Mhmm.”

“I just wish he was here to see this.”

”I think he is, why else would our son be born on his birthday.”

“I think he would get a kick out of knowing he’d be sharing his birthday with a baby.”

The baby began to cry and to keep her from getting up, Noah took Baby Keaton from her and began to change his soiled diaper and change him into a different onesie. Little began to move his hand back to mouth in an attempt to eat something. Noah wrapped him up slightly and picked up his son and kissed his nose.

“I think our son is hungry again. Should I get a formula bottle or do you want to breastfeed him?”

”I’ll do the bottle this time, just so we can get him accustomed to both. Especially if we decide to take him with us on tour.”

Noah carefully placed Keaton in Anya’s arms and while adjusting his shirt she noticed some writing on the shirt with a sharpie, she moved his blanket and saw the words written on his shirt.

’WILL YOU MARRY MY DADDY?’

”Noah what -

She turned and saw Noah kneeling by her bed with a velvet ring box, a beautiful emerald ring surrounded by diamonds and with a white gold band. A little tongue tied, Anya couldn’t find the words to speak.

”I did have reservations for my proposal to you at La Boucherie in about two weeks, not going to lie, before I found you last night, I was looking at the ring in my bunk and practicing on how to propose. If you ask the guys, they’ll tell you that I had each of them practice and pretend to be you to get an idea of your reaction, but this is a lot better. Our son being here with us was very unexpected, but a welcome surprise. So now that I have both of you here, I wanted to ask.”

”Oh Noah…”

”Anastasia Mendoza, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

”oooh.” A little coo-like sound came from baby Keaton.

Noah chuckled.

”I think our son said yes for you.” He whispered.

”Lucky for him, mama can speak for herself and her response is yes. With all my heart. Yes, I’ll marry you Noah.”

Noah placed the ring on her finger and kissed her again. It was all overwhelming, but they both knew that as long as they had each other, it wasn’t bound to be perfect, but it can be easier with each other. They don’t know what the future holds, but each day will bring a new surprise and hopefully they can be prepared.

[jokeroutsubs]

ENG translation: "We are advocates of the fact that it is possible to create in our language"

An interview with Bojan Cvjetićanin and Kris Guštin in Slovenian magazine Reporter Magazin, originally published December 2023

Original article written by Katarina Keček for Reporter Magazin; photos by Primož Lavre and Urša Premik; English translation by @kurooscoffee and another Joker Out Subs member, proofread by IG GBoleyn123.

Also available in audio version on Spotify, read by IG GBoleyn123:

If you repost quotes from the interview, please link back to this post!

After a fantastic recent concert season with the currently most popular Slovenian music group Joker Out, who have already broken all boundaries at home, the boys are now ready to conquer the world's music stages. European first, said the band's two members, guitarist Kris Guštin and singer Bojan Cvjetićanin, modestly, when we met in their rehearsal room, "Then we'll think ahead." A few days after our conversation, Joker Out embarked on a new tour, which will include 13 European countries, including France, Belgium and Italy. Among others, they will be playing at some of the world's most iconic venues, such as the O2 Shepherd's Bush Empire in London and the Academy 2 in Manchester. A musical success that has no comparison here.

I'm sure you have given hundreds of interviews over the years? How do you cope with them?

Kris: If the questions are good, the interview is also good.

Bojan: During Eurovision we had about 40 interviews a day. Let's say two of them were a little different in terms of questions.

What kind of questions don't you like?

Both: Where did our name come from? When was the band formed? The kind of thing that everybody can find on Google.

Eurovision was a big breakthrough for you abroad, but you also said that you would not do a competition like that again.

Kris: We didn't say that.

Bojan: We have another one in January. We're playing at a festival in the Netherlands, it's a kind of show where you present yourself. It's a competition in a sense, but it's not very specific like Eurovision.

But these music competitions can't be real competitions. They are about the taste of the listener, just as art is about the taste of the observer. How are you going to evaluate a quality, a song?

Bojan: Eurovision is a really interesting experience and has a very specific concept. It's a three-minute spectacle contest, there are tangible standards, but on the other hand there are not. This spectacle may be different from what any of us would think of as "spectacle", let's say a lot of fire, explosions, and fireworks, but if the story is properly told in the flood of all these fires and explosions, just one deep silence can make the performance spectacular. For us, the competition was more about whether or not we would make that breakthrough. A contest against ourselves.

When you were at Eurovision, did you have in mind the country you were representing, or did you, first and foremost, see yourself in this contest? As an opportunity for the group to present itself?

Bojan: It was absolutely important for us to sing in Slovenian at this festival because we are advocates and representatives of the fact that it is possible to create in our language and that it is right to create in our language. It's right to speak it and it's right for the language to develop. The younger generations of Slovenians are also gaining an appreciation for the Slovenian language and an understanding of what it can be used for. The aim was to show ourselves. In the end, it is true that a country wins, let's say Sweden won, or Finland won, but the most important thing for us was that when someone says, "Do you remember Slovenia in 2023?" that it will be a positive image and a positive memory. We managed to do that, which is a big enough victory as far as we are concerned. At the same time, we did everything we could to represent ourselves and Slovenia in the best possible way.

Despite all this, we welcomed you home with great joy, we did not blame you for your result in the competition, because we saw that you gave your all.

Bojan: I was honestly happy to see the positive reaction, even though objectively speaking we had a pretty poor placement.

Kris: After a long time, us Eurovision performers also had the same kind of support of the nation at home that our athletes have.

It's interesting that you hold on to the Slovenian language so lovingly and don't give in to the prejudices that claim that Slovenian is not a poetic and melodic language. You write songs in various languages, but mostly in Slovenian.

Bojan: For me, it is most natural to write songs in Slovenian. My thought process, during my subconscious existence, is in the Slovenian language.

Your parents are not of Slovenian nationality, they both came from Bosnia during the war in 1991, with the last Unprofor convoy. Kris's mother is also Dutch, and you both love the Slovenian language.

Kris: My mother moved to Slovenia before Slovenia joined the EU and, as she explained to me, it was very difficult for her at that time too. All the bureaucratic stuff dragged on, just like it would for someone who came from Bosnia.

Bojan: I never had any problems with my parents being from Bosnia. I was at a school where there were quite a lot of children who had parents from the former Yugoslavia and we had no problems with that. I coped with the Slovenian language quite well from a very young age. However, this does not change the fact that the living conditions of many children at our school were of a lower standard. I don't know what was going on in their homes, because I know that for many it was not so rosy at home, but we children did not feel any revolt or hatred from our classmates at that time.

Your parents are both doctors, and they have made a new home in Slovenia. Do you still go to Bosnia?

Bojan: Yes, more and more often. I feel very Slovenian, I think and speak in this language, but on the other hand I am immensely proud of my roots and I also feel Bosnian, Serbian, at my core, and it seems to me that the fans from the former Yugoslav countries have now taken us very much as their own because of that.

You had very successful concerts in Zagreb and Belgrade. Interestingly, the visitors knew all your songs by heart, and what's more, they sang them with you in Slovenian. We haven't been used to that since the days of Lačni Franz* and Videoseks.*

*(The only two groups prior to Joker Out who succeeded in ex-Yugoslavia region enough to have the audience sing their songs in Slovenian)

Kris: Isn't it interesting that we find it bizarre that Serbs are singing in Slovenian, because before it was always the other way around?

Bojan: I also never understood before that Croatians or Serbs didn't understand us. As in, is the difference in languages really so big that you don't understand us? We can understand you. The fact is that Slovenians have been in contact with the Serbo-Croatian language in one way or another since we were very young, we all go to the seaside in Croatia, and we also listen to music from those parts en masse.

But the young people of your generation speak to the locals on the Croatian coast in English because they no longer understand their language.

Both: Yes, that's also true.

How come these Balkan languages don't cause you any problems?

Bojan: It's my mother tongue anyway, so I don't have any problems.

Kris: It seems very stupid to me that Slavs should communicate in Germanic languages. Even with the Czechs at Eurovision we communicated in both languages and it worked. It seems to me very inauthentic to speak English, but on the other hand I understand, because young people in Slovenia today are surrounded by English, maybe even more than Slovenian, and it is much more natural to them than to struggle in their own language or in a language that is supposed to be related to their own. It would be interesting if "interslavic" was introduced in all countries with Slavic languages as a second or third language. This is a mixture of all the Slavic languages, which is supposedly understood by all the members of the Slavic peoples. A language that is similar in its own way to all of us.

Esperanto, invented in the late 1980s as a counterbalance to the overuse of English, was a similar project. I do not know how many people still use it today.

Kris: Introducing a new language is not the easiest cultural process.

You have a big tour coming up, actually the first tour of European capitals.

Kris: Yes, first we're going to Skopje, then Munich, The Hague, Amsterdam, Madrid and Barcelona. On the 11th of December we're going back to Slovenia for a week, when we're planning to record some more in the studio, and then we're going to do concerts until the end of the year in Slovenia, in Celje, Maribor, Novo mesto and Ljubljana.

These tours must be exhausting. Every day travelling, buses, different cities, masses of people wanting something from you.

Kris: We have six concerts coming up now.

Bojan: We've just played nine concerts in fourteen days, we were in Lithuania, Poland, Czechia and Croatia.

Do fans in other countries remember you only from Eurovision or do they know your other songs as well?

Bojan: The most fascinating thing is that they have learned all the songs from the past too. We actually managed to break that barrier with just one song, but people learned two hours of material in another language. I don't know how many hours they had to devote to it, but they did.

Are you surprised by such enthusiasm? None of you could have planned this.

Kris: We went to Eurovision with this intention, so we can't say that we were completely surprised by the success. The ultimate goal all along was to make a breakthrough abroad. But we were absolutely surprised by the scope of the response. It could have been that Carpe Diem would have been very successful abroad, but the other songs would not have caught on. But we get to the concert and there is no feeling of waiting for this greatest hit, from the first minute people are "in it" and singing.

Bojan: If we sometimes dropped a song from our repertoire that we didn't want to play in Slovenia anymore, one of them being "Proti toku" because it was totally getting on our nerves, there were revolts on the internet and people were carrying banners at concerts saying "Play Proti toku!"

Kris: When we released New Wave with Elvis Costello, we thought that foreigners would prefer to listen to the song in English, but somehow everyone demanded it in Slovenian.

Bojan: They learned the Slovenian version and that's what they want.

I could say that you are kind of the pioneers of a new wave of Slovenian music, one for which Slovenia is obviously too small. None of the previous Slovenian Eurovision representatives have impressed Europe so much.

Bojan: I really don't remember us having any artist like that before. When Sestre went to Eurovision, they rode the wave at the time too, they were doing a lot of international shows too. I mean, it was a different concept, it was a project, but it still worked. Mostly because they actually had a vision, a plan and also a background behind them, there has to be some kind of support mechanism in the process. We didn't have performers in the sense of, okay, you showed up at Eurovision, now do a one-hour concert for me. Most of the performers couldn't do that because they didn't even have enough songs.

Kris: It's not only a problem in Slovenia, you find it everywhere, even among foreign artists. The Norwegian representative was fifth in Eurovision this year, she's very popular, but she only had one song on the market after the contest was over. Now she is going to release an album, but she hasn't had enough material so far.

Have you been preparing on your own to go abroad or do you maybe have some very professional agencies behind you to promote you and push you forward?

Bojan: With the people who are with us, we are our own management. We've never had someone above us who was our boss. We have always been our own bosses. We have our own people around us, but we have reached a level of performing in Slovenia that requires you to have a big team around you. We have about 30 people accompanying us on a regular basis, including the driver. When this success story happened, this breakthrough abroad, we were able to channel our system in a new direction, to at least somehow "patch up" the line up abroad for this year.

Do you cultivate a system of democracy in the band? How do you agree on certain things? By raising your hands?

Bojan: There hasn't been a need for that so far.

Kris: Usually the majority wins, within reasonable limits, of course.

Where do you find yourself more, live performances, making music, travelling, mingling with fans?

Kris: It really depends on the time period. It has to alternate. Solely playing infinite concerts is really fun for a while, but then it becomes tiring. The number of concerts we have played now is just about on the borderline for us to go back to the studio again for some time. On the other hand, spending infinite time in the studio isn't good either. During Covid, we were locked in for two years and we were just making music the entire time, and somewhere in there we kind of lost motivation. In the studio you also realise why you love the stage.

Are you tired after concerts, after a few hours of jumping around the stage?

Kris: The concert itself tires you out much less than the travelling. If you're lucky enough to be able to afford a private bus that takes you from concert to concert, then it's a lot easier. You get into it after the concert, fall asleep, and wake up in another city. The tour that is ahead of us, however, is made up entirely of flying, and that is the worst. Hotels, rushing, packing, taxis, airports, the atmosphere in airports is really unpleasant, no one is happy there, the hours drag on... that is the harder part. The concert itself doesn't tire me out that much. Most of all, we could play two concerts in a row if the atmosphere is right.

All that requires psychological and physical fitness as well. Do you practice any sports?

Kris: I used to be a more sporty person, I regularly played tennis, but ever since Eurovision, I can't find the right time to go back to something regular. I also used to play football recreationally every week, that's gone too. When on tour, I can only afford to run or to go to the hotel gym. But I haven't gotten to the point where I could make peace with that yet.

Bojan: I currently don't exercise at all. I used to train judo for a long time, but now, unfortunately, I haven't yet forced myself to go to the gym or go running when I have a free day. I'd like to start doing that, but I'm the type of person who needs a companion to pull me along and motivate me every day. I'm most drawn to football, martial arts, or extreme sports, but now I don't dare to do anything anymore because of injuries. Lately I've been going horse riding when I'm home. I find that horses calm me down.

Do you follow politics, are you interested in what's going on in Slovenian society?

Kris: Even a year ago, I was a lot more interested than I am now. Not just because we had a different government, but because I had time to think about it. I studied international relations for a while, I'm currently doing my master's. Otherwise I'm a chemical engineering graduate who switched to another university. I used to follow Slovenian politics a lot, but now I don't know if I feel like a fully qualified citizen of Slovenia anymore, since we've spent more than half a year outside of it. When I walk through our city now, I see it with different eyes. I see it almost as if it was any other city in the world, I pay attention to things like architecture or the atmosphere people create. Before, I used to walk through Ljubljana, it was my city, but I didn't pay attention to what was around me. Now I feel like half a stranger, which is weird in a way.

Bojan: For me, Ljubljana has now become a kind of base, a safe haven. I also see it differently than before. I agree with Kris that there are plenty of things that I didn't notice at all and I only see them now. I always perceived Ljubljana in a kind of romantic way, pretty much only the centre, even though I didn't live there from a young age. Only now that we've travelled around countries like Poland, Lithuania, or Finland, I see a lot of architectural similarities, but it has started to bother me that Ljubljana is so diverse in this aspect.

Is this diversity not a good thing?

Bojan: I don't know. Ljubljana smells nice to me, when I was walking around yesterday, I felt like Ljubljana was the last stage of a place. It's hard to say that this is a city, let alone a capital city of a country. Last night I was walking around the capital city of Slovenia at half past nine, and it was literally like I was in a "zombie land". There was no one anywhere. Incredibly weird, but on the other hand, nice.

Kris: That's pretty weird.

Bojan: Everything is getting more rigid, people are locking themselves up in their homes more and more.

Where can young people of your age go out in Ljubljana?

Kris: I'm facing this problem too.

Bojan: I think that in Ljubljana, we have quite a lot of choice when it comes to the number of places meant for parties. When they are open is another problem. We have a number of high quality clubs: K4, Cirkus, Orto, Shooter... for such a small place, we have a lot of clubs. The problem for me is that Ljubljana is a completely dead city in the summer. You can't go anywhere in the summer because everything closes down except Metelkova. For a tourist who's 20 or 25 years old and comes to Ljubljana in the summer, when it's wonderful, it's the most beautiful in the summer, it's a city where they have nothing to do.

Kris: There are plenty of places to hang out, but none of them appeal to me. I used to like going to K4, not anymore now, the last club I visited was Gala hala. It was awesome there.

When you come home nowadays, do you want to go to parties, go around the town?

Bojan: No, not at all. We're not really enthused about going out. When we come back home, we find other ways to relax. When I'm home, it suits me to be able to rest. Otherwise, what I like best is going to a concert.

Kris: That's what I like best too.

The band members constantly stick together, you even go on holidays together?

Kris: We already went together, it was awesome, we function great. The only concern is that we're constantly together. It's not good to be together all the time, each of us has his own life and things to do.

But, Bojan, you even went on holiday with your parents this year? How come?

Bojan: Yes, after eight years, we went on holiday together again. I was supposed to go to Thailand with the band, after the concert in Stožice. I got tonsillitis on the day of departure, so I avoided the long journey. When I felt a little better, I went to my grandma in Banja Luka, and after that, I went on holiday with my parents for five days.

Do they look at you differently in Banja Luka than in Slovenia?

Bojan: They don't recognise me on the street there nearly as much as it happens in Slovenia, it has only happened to me a few times.

Kris: The level at which I get recognised on the street is still okay for me. Bojan is more exposed and definitely has a different perspective. Maybe the most annoying thing is that you are expected to constantly be smiling and ready to take photos. We really are like that most of the time, but there are days when you're not in the mood to socialise, but you still have a concert. Afterwards, a lot of listeners are waiting and would like to hang out with you. I'd like to tell them that I am very grateful that they're there, but that I really don't have a never-ending social battery to be able to talk to all of them.

Bojan: It is ungrateful to talk about recognisability as something negative, because it's simply a consequence of everything we have and it's an expected side product. If I'm in a public place, I know that everyone around me is listening to what I'm talking to someone about. It has become uncomfortable to talk about anything personal with anyone, because you always feel like someone is eavesdropping.

What's your favourite thing to do when you finish a gig?

Kris: The first thing I do is to take a shower. I hang out a little with the team, with the band members, sometimes we go out to take photos, but otherwise, as soon as possible I drink a glass of water and go directly to bed.

Bojan: I'm such a good boy. I always take at least one hour for taking photos with fans.

I haven't yet come across you getting caught drunk or high on various substances, which isn't rare in the music world, it's more like a rule.

Bojan: I view all these extreme excesses as filling a void. For 99 percent of these performers who are said to do this, the roots of those voids are very clear. They come from personal trauma, mostly from childhood. Thankfully all five of us in the band come from very stable and happy families, none of us lacked for anything, quite the opposite, we all had everything endlessly. We have maximum support from all the people around us. We don't feel the need to rebel against anything, because we actually have nothing to rebel against. All these bands that did a lot of drugs and alcohol actually mostly broke up very quickly.

Bojan, you appear to be very energetic on stage, you're spontaneous and charismatic, you have the public eating our of your hand. Do you unleash your alter ego on the stage? Is that a different Bojan?

Bojan: You'd have to ask the guys from the band who spend the most time with me. As far as I know from the stories from people who have known me since I was little, I have always been loud and very talkative. I always liked performing and I wouldn't say that I put on an act on stage. On stage, I let myself go to the max, I think that I really mould myself into what I think belongs on stage. It's not a different Bojan on the stage, he just does some things that belong on stage.

Kris: Bojan on stage is in a higher gear. It's the same for the whole band.

Bojan: People can feel other people. Everything that happened to us is also in large part a consequence of people actually feeling that we are the same people on stage as we are when we come off the stage. We're real here, there's no acting, we also don't think that we're any better than them. We're all friends, they're below the stage, we're on the stage, and we have fun together.

Kris: It's also true that I feel more free on stage. We're allowed more. I enjoy the fact that our concert is a sort of a valve, even though I hate that word.

Like every ordinary woman, I can't skip past your fantastic stage clothes. All my female friends want to wear them.

Bojan: I would also like to wear them in my private life, but I already have a closet full of clothes that have piled up throughout my life, and they aren't like the ones we wear at gigs. But I would like to walk out of my room every day dressed in a way that made me look like I'm in Miami in the 80s, or like a mix between a "drug dealer" and a "drug cop".

Kris: My sister has already looted my closet. I looted my dad's.

Bojan: I have looted the closets of my parents and my sister.

Kris, your dad is a famous musician. Did he help you at the start, what kind of advice does he give you?

Kris: My dad only helped me in the sense that I sometimes showed him what I had written or what we had recorded in the studio, and he gave his opinion. But that hasn't happened in a year now, ever since I moved out. Before that, he could hear me through the walls when I was playing.

Bojan: I've also become independent. Although now when we come back from a tour, I still like going back home the best.

What does independence look like?

Kris: I like it. I can't imagine going back home anymore, even though I love my family immensely. But us not living together anymore has only made our relationships better. I like having my own peace, but I also like coming back home for lunch.

BIOGRAPHY In 2017, five friends started a band called Joker Out. They had all been musically active before, but they achieved the first big success as a band as the winning group of Špil liga in Kino Šiška in Ljubljana. After this victory, the boys became sought-after on all Slovenian musical stages. They released two albums, Umazane misli in 2021 and Demoni a year later. In those two years, they also received two 'Zlata piščal' ('Golden Flute') awards, in 2020 for newcomers of the year, and again next year for artists of the year. This spring, RTV Slovenia sent Joker Out and their song Carpe Diem to Eurovision where, despite a lot of attention from fans, they ended in a modest 21st place. Despite that, European music enthusiasts have welcomed them as their own, their popularity is growing quickly. Joker Out are currently filling the biggest European concert stages, which no Slovenian musician has managed before.

If you repost quotes from the interview, please link back to this post!

[latoyalestrange]

dessert fairy

s. sallow x f!reader

lil drabble inspired by talkiing with @ask-sebastian. ps i'm literally falling in love with this rp acct. he's too smooth i swear.

summary: in which sirona takes things into her own hands when she's tired of watching you and sebastian dance around your feelings for one another.

words: 1kish

warnings: 7th year mc and seb, pining, awkwardness, fluff, not edited! literally the tiniest bit of angst/ hurt and comfort. mention of professor fig :(

every year on the day the hogwarts students returned, hogsmeade held a little fair with music, various pop-up shops, and of course dancing in the square to celebrate. it went without saying that you and sebastian would be attending together as you had the previous year. you weren't sure if it was a good sign or not.

see, you and sebastian were stuck in a waiting game. he would walk you to your classes, insistent on holding your books, offer his scarf when you were cold, let you copy his homework, and would stand up for you anytime students teased you. but that's what any good friend would do, right? you were both painfully oblivious to the other's advances, and therefore you stayed in a limbo of casual flirting that never led to anything.

you pondered this as you stood in the courtyard facing the hamlet, your back to the entrance of the school. you were waiting for him to join you after dinner to head to hogsmeade for a night filled with fun. well, as much fun as you could possibly have with the person you're not-so-secretly pining after. you fidgeted with your hands, looking down at them awkwardly. you were unaware of the slytherin boy as he snuck up behind you, taking silent steps as he approached. his hands pinching your sides shook you out of your trance and you instinctively gasped, ready to scream and run from whatever spooked you.

"sebastian!" you exclaimed, rolling your eyes and clutching your chest as you saw him. he chuckled, letting his hands ghost over your hips as he stood in front of you.

"sorry, it was too perfect of an opportunity to pass up." once you caught you breath, you found yourself blushing as you looked up at his tall form that practically towered over you now after his most recent growth spurt. his cinnamon eyes were still as rich and romantic as ever. "shall we?" you glanced down to see his arm that he held out for you to link with.

"i don't think i want to go with you now, sallow," you teased. he saw right through it.

"yes, you do. come on." he nudged you with his elbow. you sighed, finally snaking your arm around his muscular one as he began leading you to hogsmeade. as well as he could read you, you'd think he'd know how you truly felt about him. but unfortunately for the both of you, sebastian wasn't really as confident as he seemed. he was secure in his dueling abilities and being an incredible student, but when it came to you? he was just as in the dark as you were. you would get bake him his favorite sweets, choose him as your dueling partner every time without fail, and would consistently be there for him when he was missing his sister, letting him hold you tightly as you patted his fluffy brown curls. but that's just what any good friend would do, right?

as you approached the hamlet, you took in the sight of the extra twinkling lights they had put up and the adorable little shops that lined the square. one for handcrafted jewelry, one for a beautiful collection of paintings done by local artists, and a few booths selling various muggle objects. the regular musician that played in the square was also there, and with a few extra instruments that he harmonized perfectly together. it was busier than normal, but that was expected. people from hamlets all around the highlands traveled to see the festivals all year in hogsmeade. unbeknownst to you, while you were digesting your surroundings, sebastian stared down at you adoringly, savoring you adorable expression. he could feel his heart pang in his chest. merlin, how he wished he could confess everything to you in that moment.

"what first?" realizing you probably caught him staring, he blinked away his heart-eyes to respond.

"drinks, obviously," he joked, earning a giggle from you. he began leading you to the three broomsticks, which was only a few paces from the square. once you entered, it was the same as the outside, bustling with patrons chatting loudly.

"agreed. i need a few before i can socialize." he quirked his brown in your direction.

"you're socializing now, aren't you?" he asked in a teasing tone. you shook your head as you reached the only free table in the corner of the first floor. he pulled your chair out for you, pushing you under the table after you sat.

"no, you're different. i don't need alcohol to tolerate you."

he winced playfully, "ouch, tolerate?" you waved his fake pained expression away with your hand.

"oh, you know what i mean. of course i more than tolerate you." redness crept up your neck as you said it, feeling embarrassed by the slightest hint of boldness in your words and his gentlemanly gestures. he brushed it off, chuckling.

"i'll go get us a round, yeah? stay put." you nodded and watched him turn away. you let your head fall to the table with a thud once he couldn't see. how could he not see what he was doing to you? you quickly put yourself back together before he returned, full mugs of butter bear in hand. he placed them on the table in front of you and finally took his place opposite to you. you suddenly noticed the brilliant golden hues that cast across the room from the candle chandeliers. he looked angelic in the light, you could've sworn he was glowing.

"so, seventh year, hm?" he settled in the plush seat beneath him, or was he shifting nervously? you couldn't tell. "what are your plans after you absolutely ace the n.e.w.t.s?" he smiled cheekily as he brought the frosted mug up to his plush lips. you watched as you pondered your answer, eyeing the foam mustache that he skillfully wiped away with his tongue.

"uh-- i'm not entirely for sure yet. everything is still so new." he nodded understandingly, allowing you to continue. "professor weasley actually mentioned to me that they're still looking for a permanent replacement for professor fig." you tried to seem excited about it, but your eyes instantly fell to your fidgeting hands that rested on the table at the mention of your late mentor. "she said, um...that i might be a good fit, if things go well." his brow furrowed, his heart aching for you as he watched the excitement leave your face.

"you don't seem excited by the idea." he looked down at your hands and took one in his own, rubbing comforting circles with his thumb. you shook your head glumly, unable to meet his gaze. "can i ask why?"

"it's just...there are so many other wizards and witches that are perfectly capable--" you stopped, forcing yourself to breathe before you started crying in public. he only squeezed your hand. "there are so many other capable people that aren't responsible for his death."

he shook his head immediately at the prospect. "what happened was in no way your fault, y/n. i didn't know him as well as you did, but what i do know is that him and every professor chose to fight alongside you that day. as far as i'm concerned, they were all lucky to have you there. imagine if you weren't and they had to fight ranrock without anyone with your ability?" you sighed, contemplating his words.

a smile slowly crept back onto your lips, "thank you, sebastian...i wish that made me feel better about it. i really do." he shared a sympathetic smile with you as you sat in comfortable silence for a moment before you continued. "but what about you? what are your plans?" his expression softened to a more playful one as he sat back in his seat, still holding your hand in his.

"oh, you know me. survive." you rolled your eyes at his lightheartedness, but your face looked anything but annoyed by his antics.

"at least you're not planning to leave me here alone."

he shook his head once more, "i'd never." your familiar blush returned, this time reaching your cheeks and nose. you were suddenly hyper-aware of how his hand felt as it held yours and your legs that tangled together under the table.

"so...just me and you then?" you couldn't force your eyes to meet his, as much as you wanted them to.

"against the world." if you weren't blushing before, you definitely were now. something about that made your mind go blank and you suddenly couldnt find a clever remark to retort with. to fill the gap, you brought your own mug to your lip, taking a selfish sip. like sebastian's, it left a silly mustache on your lip. you didn't notice at first, caught up in your thoughts.

"oh, you've got a little..." he gestured to his mouth and you instantly knew. did you always have to make a fool of yourself in front of him? you wiped it with your thumb, but a little dribble remained at the corner of your mouth.

"here, let me." he gently brought his hand up to ghost over your cheek, wiping the leftover foam from your lip. you were sure now that your entire face was beet red from the contact.

you were back to searching your mind frantically for any response. luckily, you didn't need to find one, as someone had joined you at the edge of your table. once you looked up, you realized it was sirona ryan, the owner of the three broomsticks and seer of all, apparently. she held a generous slice of her signature chocolate cake with a dollop of whipped cream and two heart-shaped cherries on top.

"lover's special, on the house. you two have fun at the festival tonight." she placed the plate between the two of you. "not too much fun, though," she added with a wink. you and sebastian exchanged looks, and he was the first to speak.

"lovers special?" he chuckled bemusedly as he looked to you. "i mean, not that i'm one to say no to free cake or anything, but--" he was swiftly cut off by your foot meeting his shin beneath the table.

"thank you sirona," you added sweetly. she smiled politely and turned on her heel to return to the counter.

sebastian laughed, "ow! what was that for?" his playful expression quickly dropped once he saw you, your hands now withdrawn to your lap at you looked down it to it, picking at your nails. "hey, what's wrong?"

you answered meekly, "is it really that weird to think of me in that way?" he instantly felt terrible. you looked so hurt. "i thought maybe since..." you trailed off, sighing. "i don't know what i thought.

"no, no, that's not what i meant at all!" he quickly defended. "i just--i guess i was surprised by sirona's assumption, is all..." it was his turn to fall silent, trying desperately to find the words to say next.

he cleared his throat and asked gently, "do...do you think of me in that way?" he was almost afraid of saying it outright.

realizing there was no way out of this painfully awkward conversation, you were able to stutter out, "oh! i-- uhm, no! i mean--" you instantly covered your face with your hands, wanting to hide. "oh, merlin, i've ruined it, haven't i?" your voice was muffled as you hid behind your hands. he was quick to pull your hands away from your face and hold them in his own.

"you haven't ruined anything, promise. i'm just a bit confused." you took a deep breath, still avoiding his eyes. you felt so embarrassed.

"i just...i wanted this to be perfect, i wanted us to have butterbeer and look at all the shops and dance and maybe i could finally-- or maybe you would--...i don't know. i'm sorry, sebastian." you let your head fall again, refusing to look him in the eye. he only squeezed your hand comfortingly, finally feeling like he understood.

"hey," he outstretched his hand to tilt your head upward, finally meeting your eye. "if you wanted this to be a date..." he gulped down hard, feeling sweat prick his forehead. "i wouldn't mind that at all." you looked instantly relieved as the tension left your body.

"really?" he nodded, relazing a bit himself.

"really. i'm sorry it took me so long to say something. i didn't think you were interested."

"sebastian, i wouldn't do half the things i do for you if i weren't interested." you admitted, making him laugh heartily.

"and i wouldn't hold your books and walk you to class every day. those damned things are heavy!" you returned the chuckle, finally feeling calm again. unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes was watching the two of you and relishing in their successfull efforts. sirona ryan, unofficial dessert fairy and matchmaker, sometimes needed to give students a gentle push in the right direction. and they thanked her for that.

reblog if you made it to then end!

lmk if you want a part 2 cause i would be down.

[trekbait]

Must see things on DS9 while on shore leave!

Deep Space 9, simultaneously the most important military outpost in the Alpha Quadrant and the most popular shopping mall this side of Freecloud, has rapidly become a Shore Leave destination to rival Risa. This is your guide to making the most of your leave!

The Promenade

The hub of the station is the Promenade where you can view the station’s many stores. You’ve got gift shops, a tailors to dress up for a night out, the Jumja stick stand, Bat'leth’s R Us and the bowling alley. As far as food or drinks, you’ve travelled around the quadrant in seconds! Choose from Bajoran, Bolian, Klingon, Vulcan, the replimat, and of course Quark’s which we will come back to soon. 

Can’t I just replicate all of this, you ask? Sure but cosplaying ancient capitalism is a hobby so many Federation citizens enjoy these days. Just remember to bring some currency and brush up on the terms you need to “haggle” and “gamble” before you go so you don’t look like an “easy mark” (Have you got advice on how to spend currency? Leave a comment!). If you’re looking for handmade “unreplicated” items, however, get your purchase externally verified before parting with your chosen medium of exchange.

If you’re not someone into aesthetic scarcity, there’s more to do! Opposite Quark’s is the Bajoran temple where you can take in a slice of Bajoran culture. After all, they’ll soon be a Federation member! If your captain has been savvy in scheduling your visit, you may even get a chance to see the Gratitude Festival. Finally, fans of the first Ferengi in Starfleet may want to find a spot opposite Quark’s and dangle their feet over the edge. Enjoy the ambience of Commander Nog’s favourite spot before security moves you along.

Watching the Wormhole

You may be wondering why we didn’t point out the best spot to see the wormhole on the promenade. Well, that’s because the best spot isn’t on the promenade. Every insider knows to head to a vacant upper pylon (our favourite is number 2). Up there you’ll get a beautiful view of what the Bajorans call the “Celestial Temple”. Maybe you’ll have a religious awakening? 

Don’t forget, they say that if you see the wormhole open, you get to make a wish. I guess the dockmaster at DS9 must be a very lucky person by now.

Ops

The nerve centre of DS9 is off duty to casual visitors (such as young ensigns on shore leave) but since the war ended tours have been scheduled twice a day. Visitors will be shown around Ops by a member of the crew and told stories about the events that happened there. You will also get to see inside the station commander’s office including Sisko’s famous baseball. If you’re lucky you’ll catch a glimpse of Colonel Kira! The wait list is very long so book ahead.

Note that holo imagers are not permitted in Ops and the tour may be cancelled at short notice in the event of an emergency situation. For a more in-depth experience, see the “Ops: Battle Stations!” holosuite programme in Quark’s which recreates various dramatic battles from the station’s history.

Quark’s

This isn’t just any Quark’s, it’s the original Quark’s! A bar so good it’s spread across the quadrant like Caitan nip. It’s got drinks, live music, auctions, a Dabo wheel (with some very good-looking Dabo girls and guys to help you part with your currency) and some amazing holosuites (with none of the content filters recently applied to Starfleet Holodecks). This is also the spot where Captain Sisko punched Q!

Those looking for something special should ask after Quark’s private stock. It comes at a premium, but who can turn down some Aldebaran whiskey? Share a glass with Morn who is renowned for regaling fellow patrons with war tales. Meanwhile, Ensigns who have studied under Professor O’Brien at Starfleet Academy might also be looking out for his famous dart board. It’s located just to the left of the bar and you can try it out yourself! See if you can beat O’Brien and Doctor Bashir’s high scores!

Speaking of O’Biren and Bashir, check out Vic’s Lounge in the holosuites. This recreation of an old Earth club was so popular among the crew of DS9 that Bashir kept it running 26 hours a day. The eponymous Vic himself, the proprietor, is a sentient hologram much like Voyager’s EMH. So speak freely and enjoy the vibe of old Earth.

Don’t forget to stop in the gift shop on your way out! 

The Tribble Experience

Something away from the promenade is a Tribble cafe, opened in a cargo bay after the crew of the Defiant brought back the one-extinct Tribble from the 23rd century. Realising they could stop its spread by ensuring they were away from any food supply they managed to relocate the tribbles away from the promenade to a cargo bay. 

Lacking a better idea, they opened an “experience” where you get to pet, play with and roll around a cargo bay with several hundred tribbles. Their cute purrs will calm even the most nervous disposition!

Please note they have a strict no-food policy for all visitors. Anyone inadvertently bringing food into the Tribble Experience will be held legally liable for all the Tribble offspring that result as well as any containment or cleanup costs the station incurs.

Dukat’s Ghost

Several years back, the crew on DS9 triggered a Cardassian self-defense mechanism built into the main computer designed to suppress a Bajoran uprising. While the station locked down and attempted to kill its now Cardassian-free inhabitants messages of the old prefect, Gul Dukat (yes, that Dukat), played on monitors across the station. 

After the program was purged, a bug remained in the system. Head down to level 32, section H. Stand outside the cargo bay there and turn right. Walk to the next junction then left, right then straight on for 12 meters. On your left you’ll see a flickering display screen. At 12 minutes past the hour, every hour, an automated message from Dukat to his Bajoran workers will play. However, the audio generation gets spliced with the general communication system of the station so you’ll get a unique presentation from Dukat. We stayed for 3 hours and heard these;

“Bajoran Workers, I will learn to live with it. Because I can live with it. I can live with it.”

“Bajoran Workers, it is said that in the right hands the Mercury Stone has the power to cleanse the land of evil and bring prosperity to all.”

“Bajoran Workers, come to Quark’s, Quark’s is fun, come right now, don’t walk, run!”

Enjoy your stay on DS9 and remember to leave a review on FourQuad.

[noirandchocolate]

I said I would do a headcanon post about Yiga Clan wedding ceremonies, so Here! I! Go! (If you're interested but missed it, here's a post about proposal headcanons.) Time for so many details and a very long post. Also, just at the outset, I wanna say that the other reason I've been thinking about this stuff recently (in addition to real world reason of me and my girlfriend getting engaged), is that my Kohga and Sooga just got married in an RP. So I'll be using examples from their wedding alongside others, in this post!

Preparation/Background

It should come as a surprise to no one that Master Kohga officiates all weddings. If a Master Kohga is getting married, their Right Hand will do it. If the Master is marrying their Right Hand (which is on the rare side but hey, Kohga's Nana also did it!), another high-ranking member of the Clan will do it. For Nana Kohga's wedding, it was the most senior historian, who had been friends with her father. For the recent nuptials, it was current Kohga's former Right Hand/sort-of-pseudo-uncle and Sooga's mentor, the very respected elder Blademaster Chisao.

Weddings are held outside, in the circular area by the chasm, like many of the Clan's festivals are. They start in the late afternoon (for whatever season they're happening in), so that afterward, a big dinner feast can be held indoors before the party commences back outside (after some of the seating is removed to allow room for dancing, etc).

The outdoor area is hung with lanterns as well as the strings of protective noisemaker talismans, and a tower is placed and hung with even more lights. This structure is reminiscent of those used for the Japanese Obon festival ("Creating a Champion" states that some design elements for Master Kohga and the Clan were inspired by Bon Odori dance!), but with Yiga flair. A similar decorative piece can be seen in the hideout in the games (see above left). It serves a couple of purposes. First, masks of the couple's ancestors are brought from the Complex's shrine and carefully hung around the sides of it. Second, that's where the band is placed!

That's an excellent segue to say that music also plays an important role in wedding ceremonies. An ensemble traditionally consisting of taiko (also seen in the above left image), shamisen, shakuhachi and shinobue plays background music throughout the ceremony, with specific cues/phrases/flourishes accompanying specific events. (It may be noted that a similar combination of instruments is used in kabuki theater; several elements of the Clan were also inspired by this art form.)

The marrying couple wears their very best clothes, of course, and polish up their masks for the big day! Formal attire is, again, similar to Japanese garments but not exactly (since the Sheikah and Yiga are Japanese-inspired but not...literally Japanese). A wedding is cause to wear long furisode-like sleeves and fancy-patterned haori, kimono, and hakama combos. Oftentimes, because these garments require fine fabrics that require a great effort for the Clan to create, parts of a person's wedding outfit are passed down through their family and re-tailored to them. The Clan does of course have a whole group of people who make clothes, and their training includes embroidery and silk-painting for just such special occasions! If you didn't think Kohga had a haori with Dinraal embroidered in gold thread on the back and phoenixes and Inverted Eyes painted in patterns all over it, you would be WRONG. He also wore his father's black wedding hakama! And Mama Hotaru's long and gorgeous wedding robe was black with a pattern of softly painted insects on it, in an homage to her family's naming tradition; it originally belonged to her own great-grandmother, who shared her name.

Ceremony

The ceremony begins with the officiant welcoming the Clan on this happy occasion and declaring that the date is "AUSPICIOUS!" I plan to do a post about Hyrule's calendar and associated "astrology"-type beliefs but for now suffice it to say that one could come up with a way that almost any day is auspicious (since nobody would want to say someone's wedding day is cursed or something), but couples do very often try to schedule their weddings for particularly positive dates (as I said in the last post, they have to wait at least six months--it doesn't have to be exact).

The couple is then called to approach from either side of the area. They are each accompanied by two family members--usually parents if possible. If not, more extended family or in the absence of any family, friends can do it. For example, Kohga's the last of his family lines aside from distant-er cousins, and Sooga wasn't born in the Clan, so Chisao's children (who both men are close with) stepped in. These four people act as assistants to the couple in various parts of the ceremony! It may be noted, that on each side, there is a group of three.

Yiga wedding ceremonies, like so much else they do, are meant to reinforce not only the joining of two individuals but the bonds that join the whole Clan together. For that reason, they involve several call-and-response-type declarations that all present participate in, and many references to the Clan's history.

The officiant recites the following: "Our Clan was born of conflict. May you weather any in your path. / Our Clan as ever weeps the blood of our fallen ancestors. May their spirits raise you up. / Our Clan has turned betrayal on its head. May you remain ever true." The last of these lines is accompanied by a gesture toward the speaker's mask, evoking the symbolism of the Inverted Eye.

There are two major sections of the ceremony that each require an exchange of three things, between the couple. The first of these sets involves three liquids: saké, water, and blood. The couple's assistants will pour them dishes of saké, which they then exchange and drink, and then the same is done with water. The saké represents the time, patience, and effort that must be put into a marriage, as preparation of the drink surely requires such care. The water represents life and replenishment--and it's not just any water, but some taken from the especially healthful spring at Satori Mountain (which I've said previously, the Clan has strong ties to)!

(NOTE: For this and one other notable part that involves eating/drinking, the partners lift their masks only enough to imbibe.)

For the blood, the couple are each handed a special knife with which they cut their palms. Carefully--it isn't meant to be a super deep cut, just enough to produce drops of blood. The couple then hold out their hands toward each other, palm down so those droplets fall to the sand. Their assistants then wrap the cuts with red bandages. The symbolism is multi-fold: to show the joining of blood/family, the willingness to endure pain and hardship for each other, and, since the blood is dropped to the ground, the Clan's connection to the land and its energy.

(NOTE: PLEASE DO NOT take this headcanon as some suggestion that I think the Clan is some kind of ~weird blood cult~. I absolutely do not think that. The Clan was born of a bloody conflict/betrayal. They have not forgotten this, nor will they forsake the blood, both in terms of family and in terms of bloodshed, that ties them together. I thus think it's reasonable to headcanon that the concept and symbolism of blood--as well as actual physical blood--are present in some of their rituals/traditions. There's nothing creepy or evil about it. It is meant to be a meaningful, loving exchange and promise. Please please do not willfully misunderstand me. Thank youuuu~ <3)

The second set of exchanges is of three gifts. This section of the ceremony begins with everyone present reciting the following together: "Our strength is in our edges. Our might in what we take. Our bond is what defines us. All three, our family make." Each of these three concepts is represented by the gifts, which are brought forward to the couple in succession by further family members or friends. (As in, someone brings the gift to the giver, who then offers it to the receiver.) For example, Sooga's helpers for this section were three of his most recent Blademaster trainees, who had all recently passed their tests!

"Strength" is represented by a weapon. The Yiga have always been willing to fight for their beliefs, and more importantly to protect themselves/one another. They have a strong culture of martial arts and weapons training. So, each member of the couple offers the other a weapon of some significance to them. The exchange is typically symbolic; if a woman gives her intended the vicious sickle she uses on missions as her Strength gift, the idea is that when she uses it going forward, it's in his honor. However, if a man gives his intended a meaningful family heirloom weapon that isn't in use anymore, the couple will continue keeping it among their belongings together. See? Kohga's father gave Hotaru his eightfold longblade, and she gave him a (carefully sheathed) poisoned dagger. Sooga gave the longblade Kohga first presented to him, at the ceremony when he became a Blademaster years before. The words of exchange for this gift are: "I give you this, my strength. / Will your strength defend my body? / I will protect you with all my strength. / Then this I accept."

"Might" is represented by, you guessed it, mighty bananas. A bunch is brought to each person, who selects one and peels and feeds it to their intended. I know we Earth gamers think the bananas are kinda funny, but to the Clan, they're quite the opposite. Food is serious business when you're a marginalized community considered wanted criminals by the outside world. For the purpose of a wedding, the exchange means the couple are promising to provide for one another as well as possible. (To clarify, the Clan is very highly communal about resources, but the thought here is that one party would go without to allow the other to eat if necessary, and that regardless both will do their part within the Clan as a whole, etc.) It's not even just about food; it symbolizes caretaking in general. The words of exchange for this gift are: "I give you this, my might. / Will your might nourish my soul? / I will care for your with all my might. / Then this I accept."

"Bond" is the most personalized of the three, and the associated gift is something that represents the individual giver! It may be an item they crafted, or something else that shows off one of their skills or interests. The idea is that the giver is offering themself to the receiver--something that makes them, them! There are so many possibilities, too, as the gift may be an object to keep, or something more abstract or ephemeral. For example, a member who makes clothing for the Clan might weave a garment or blanket for their intended. A cook might offer his partner her favorite food, prepared fresh right before the ceremony, to eat a few bites of on the spot. Hotaru's Bond was her music, in the form of a shamisen song she composed. Her son followed in her footsteps and went a step further, with a poem too! The words of exchange for this gift are: "I give you this, my bond. / Will your bond shelter my heart? / I will hold your heart in mine forevermore. / Then this I accept."

Following this exchange, the couple recites: "We grow in strength. We grow in might. Our bond is unbreakable. All three we pledge, that we will grow in love."

If the Master is a party to the ceremony, there's an additional section here. The other partner says, "I vow to serve you with my body, soul, and heart, and to follow where you lead forevermore." Then the Master says, "I vow to keep you with my body, soul, and heart, and to lead you ever with your joy in mind." And finally, they say in unison, "You are my guiding star, from now into eternity."

The final bit is a general vow recited together, as follows: I am with you through your joys and all your trials. I am with you by your side or over miles. I hold you as the sky holds sun and stars. Where my heart is, ever there you are. I pledge my life to you and to our Clan. To the future and our master plan. We join our souls together with our kin. Together may we all life's battles win!

AND THEN! As the couple JOINS HANDS for the first time as SPOUSES! The ENTIRE ASSEMBLY! Shouts with ALL THEIR MIGHT: "Glory to Master Kohga! Glory to the Yiga Clan! Long days and nights to the love of [name] and [name]!"

Post-Ceremony

Well then it's feast time!

And then it's party time! Bring on the bonfires and bananas and saké and music and chatter and dancing and--

Speaking of which, during the after-party, the newly-married couple will start off the dancing by performing one together while holding on to a red silk cord between them. Symbolizing, again, the joining of their souls and fates, and also the need to work together carefully in walking the path of life.

Additionally, as I have brought up several times in previous headcanon posts of mine, following the wedding ceremony, couples are now considered family and can see each other's true, un-magicdisguised, -masked, or -veiled faces. This is a big deal! (I do find it quite romantic, that partners court each other without knowing for sure what the other looks like. As I have said before, if both grew up in the Clan they will likely recall things like hair and eye color, but Yiga start wearing veils around everyone but their close family quite young and get their masks at the start of the year they are to turn eleven. So, what your partner's face looks like as an adult, or at all if you've truly never seen/paid attention to them before...well, it's something to anticipate!) Couples are given leave from work to go have a brief honeymoon away from the Complex if they wish, to go unmask each other and spend some good time together. A traditional place to do this is Satori Mountain, since most other people keep away from it anyway. <3 <3 Those who don't want to leave, get to stay in a sleeping room set aside just for this private purpose, instead!

Final Notes

Just wanted to point out, if it wasn't obvious, the threes in the ceremony. Three people on each side of the rituals, three liquids, three gifts. While the Yiga's particular wedding traditions have grown and changed from Ancient Sheikah customs over the millennia, to the point where Yiga marriage ceremonies have only a little in common with the older ones (and are quite different from contemporary Kakariko Sheikah ways), one small detail is the presence of threes. I headcanon that the Ancient Sheikah often utilized the number three in their various rituals and customs, to reference the Triforce, the three Golden Goddesses, the three major Springs across the land where Hylia is worshipped and their three attendant dragon spirits, etc. Some Yiga traditions also involve threes, despite that they've renounced their service to Hylia and to any deity in general. After all, even apart from that, three is an auspicious and satisfying number.

Master Kohga loves officiating weddings, it's one of his favorite parts of being Master Kohga. <3 It just delights him to his core, to see two of his fellow Clan members in love and getting together, and he really helps everyone make it a special day. (Weddings are an occasion when he's most likely to join the band for the party, twanging away on his shamisen...or two. He can make a double of himself. And use it to play duets! How fitting!) He's done the ceremony so many times over the course of his (so far) twenty-five years as Master, that he knows all the words by heart.

Which are more, for the officiant to say, than I've written out here. There's more that accompanies each exchange, for example. But this post was already six million miles long. So I'm going to end it now.

Thank you for taking the time to read! Hope you enjoyed!