#soul overture

[witches-wings]

Soul Overture: Chapter 1

Read on Ao3.

Chapter 1 (You Are Here) | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Darkness loomed over Patchwork Laboratory, the yellowed moon laughing overhead at all the little people down below. The moonlight painted everything in soft tones, illuminating the form of a woman standing near a dead tree in the front lawn. She was small in stature with blonde hair and bright eyes that matched the brightness of the stars that dotted the night sky.

A massive being darted through the opening in the stone fence that surrounded the stitched building, meeting with the slender woman. The being’s fur was dark and its clothing darker. A dark colored scarf moved like a cape behind the creature—a wolfman.

The woman moved closer to the wolfman. “Conri, what has you so worried?” she asked in a soft tone. Her brow was furrowed in her worry. “Why meet with me in the middle of the night in Death City? You know the meister’s would hunt you—will hunt you—as soon as they find out.”

“Eula,” the being—Conri—started, his Irish accent thick. He held a worn scroll in his clawed hands, the paper weathered by time. He seemed concerned about something. “I came across a prophecy that concerns little Julian.”

Eula’s eyes narrowed, her posture becoming tense. Anything concerning her son was important to her. “Show it to me.”

The wolfman held the scroll out to the woman, placing it in her outstretched hands. She gingerly unrolled it, her gaze scanning the words scrawled across it.

In the shadows of night, where moonlight meets the dark,

An owl witch shall rise with an unwavering spark.

A great evil looms, casting its malevolent shroud,

But the owl with wisdom will make the darkness cower and bow.

Feathers as soft as velvet, eyes piercing and keen,

A guardian of secrets, a force rarely seen.

With incantations whispered in the language of the stars,

He'll summon his magic, removing evil's bars.

The night shall be his ally, the stars his guiding light,

As he soars on silent wings, ready to fight.

With talons sharp as daggers and a heart pure and bold,

The owl witch's tale of triumph shall forever be told.

For in the end, his courage and wisdom will prevail,

A timeless prophecy fulfilled, as darkness turns pale.

The great evil shall crumble, and the land will rejoice,

Thanks to the owl witch's power, the people's unwavering choice.

Eula’s hands began to shake, nearly dropping the scroll in the process. Her skin paled. “A great evil… No,” she whispered. “He was never supposed to meet her, Conri,” she said softly. Her voice was full of fear about something only the two knew.

“I wish I never found this, Eula,” he agreed, his expression grim. “The pup doesn’t need to face an evil like hers. Maybe you can find a way around it, though. The prophecy does speak of an owl, like you.”

She chuckled humorlessly, her own expression dark. “The last time I tried to divert a prophecy, I inadvertently awoke Shaula and three NOT students had to kill her. I don’t want him dealing with any of my family, but look at how things are turning out. I still haven’t let Franken know about any of them.”

His eyes softened, knowing the woman’s worries well. “Maybe it’s time to let him know,” Conri said. “You can’t hide it forever, Eula. Medusa is still out there and Arachne could wake up at any moment. Not to mention her.”

Eula was the one to sigh next, running a hand through her long hair. “I know, it’s just… I guess I’m afraid.” She let out a soft laugh. “I know he won’t judge me, but if Julian were to find out…”

“He deserves to know, Eula.”

She closed her eyes, her shoulders sagging in defeat. “I’m going to tell him. Tonight. About my sisters, about Athena, about the prophecy.”

“Would you like me with you while you do?” He sounded concerned for his friend.

Eula nodded. “He’s in his lab still.”

Knocking on the door to the lab, Eula opened it slowly. “Franken, we need to talk about something. Conri is here as well,” she said, keeping her voice soft. She didn’t want to wake Julian, the infant had a hard enough time falling asleep as it was. “It’s… about Julian.”

A head of silver hair looked up from their computer. Turning his chair, green eyes bore into Eula’s blue. “What’s wrong?” Stein asked. She could hear the concern in his voice, even though he tried to hide it. Even though he was new at being a father, she knew that he felt the same way about their son.

“It’s… There’s a lot about this, and we need to start at my mother.” Eula pulled out another chair, sitting down in front of him. “You’re not going to like any of this.”

Conri held the scroll once more and held it out for Stein to take. He was now in his human form, his soul protected by Eula’s magic. “This concerns the pup in general.”

“My mother, Franken, was not a nice woman. She was… She is a great old one, currently sealed in Mount Fuji. Her specific madness is destruction. Her name is Athena Gorgon.”

“The Gorgon sisters,” he said as he opened the scroll.

Eula nodded, she knew that he knew where this was going. “Athena created Arachne, Medusa, Shaula, and myself. I…” She sighed. “I never subscribed to her beliefs, her desire to create a world of chaos and destruction. My sisters did, in their own ways.” Threading her fingers together, she continued. “Lord Death and I sealed her in Mount Fuji. Arachne was reduced to spiders and sealed in Europe, Medusa ran off, and Shaula was sealed within the body of a scorpion.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I inadvertently unsealed her while trying to divert a prophecy about Athena waking up, but it seems she is destined to regardless of what we do.”

“And Julian is the one to end her,” he said bluntly. He threaded his fingers together, resting them and his chin on the back of his swivel chair.

“It seems that way,” Conri answered with a short nod. “Trying to go around this prophecy could make things worse. We could very well end with Athena taking down Lord Death, in a worst case scenario.”

His gaze became determined. “Then we’ll make sure to prepare Julian as much as we can.”

Eula nodded. “Of course. I’ll also let Lord Death know myself. Maybe he can find a suitable partner for Julian when he comes of age. He needs to be trained in combat by the school as well.”

Stein put a hand over Eula’s in a sort of comforting gesture. “Thank you for telling me, Eula.”

She closed her eyes, leaning closer to her husband. “I wish you never had to find out about my family this way. I was waiting for the right moment, but it seems that wasn’t in life’s plans.”

A piercing wail was heard from another room of the lab and Eula gave a tired chuckle, moving to get up. “It seems someone is awake. Don’t worry, Stitches, I’ll get him.”

Stein shook his head. “You need to go to sleep, Eula. I’ll get him, I don’t plan on sleeping for a while yet.”

She smiled softly. “I don’t deserve you.”

Putting a hand on Eula’s shoulder as he stood, the scientist smiled. “I could say the same about you.”

[thelazybooknook]

I know which one I want to win..

[hibernating-stag]

Found my tags on an old post... Hits different after playing Overture. I am dying out here-

[sounds-like-gaming]

"Overture" by Motoi Sakuraba

Bonus track for FromSoftware's Dark Souls Trilogy pack

[pharaohgargamel]

✨🌸🌷🎵Весенние воспоминания под классическую музыку.

Часть 3

Музыка: Антонин Дворжак - "Карнавал увертюра"

----------- ✨🌸🌷🎵Spring memories with classical music.

Part 3

Music: Antonin Dvorak - "Carnival overture"

[runnerguitar]

🔥Symphony Crew: The Main Four🔥

We recently finished the default sprites for the main four characters! Ignato, Anastasya, Tiliana and Tombrok! So here's a show case for these poses and one of their alternate outfits! Battle Gear and Casual Gear!

[songs2aiart]

Muse - Exogenesis: Symphony Part 1 (Overture) “Aping my soul You stole my overture”

"Trapped in God's program Oh I can't escape" https://youtu.be/t0yyp-2wN14

[soulmusicsongs]

Overture - Gibson Kente (How Long, 1978)

[jellybeanium124]

thinks about "istanbul not constantinople" "run boy run" "don't stop me now" "the walker" "I think we're alone now" "overture - phantom of the opera" "my way" "everybody (backstreet's back)" "pepper" "polk salad annie" "rocket fuel" "I'm a man" "dancing with myself" "I was made for lovin' you" "major tom (coming home)" "soul kitchen" "sunny" and "hazy shade of winter"

[circeyoru]

Collection of Overlords _ Part 1.5

[Alastor & Other Overlords x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

Part 1 — Part 1.5 (here) — Part 2 — Part 3 — Part 4 — Part 5 — Part 6 — Part 7 — Part 8 — Part 9  — Part 10 — Part 11 — Part 12 — Part 13

Okay, I think this needs to be set clear before there are future parts since no one asked about Reader’s/your presence in the show was. While you never made a formal appearance until in Part 1, which is after the battle with Heaven, you were hinted here and there.

Pilot: 

The beginning scene where Carmilla opens the curtains, showing Zestial, Zeezi, and Lucifer in the same. Then the scene of the Vees, and Rosie. There are eyes staring at them. Like just eyes

When the clock tower resets the extermination day, eyes opened to eye the new countdown before closing just as fast

During when Vaggie talks about “ancient and destructive evils”, your outline as a puppeteer is shown above all the Overlords

Episode 1: Overture

N/A

Episode 2: Radio Killed the Video Star

Alastor laughs at Sir Pentious that seeking to join the Vees was a terrible decision since their standing as Overlords was rocky and unstable. He taunts that Sir Pentious wouldn’t be able to hold the title as Overlord or fit in, referencing the Collection of Elites

Episode 3: Scrambled Eggs

After Zestial and Alastor were done with their chat like on the show, Zestial remarks that Alastor was very brave to go missing for 7 years but also remarkable that he was still in the Collection as per the mark on his soul

When Overlords are seated, they inspect the others to make sure the group was still intact and without change. Also reporting that there was no sighting or word from you, to their disappointment

After Velvette left, Zeezi laughed that the Vees’ days might be numbered with that attitude, Rosie chuckles and shrugs, saying that it wasn’t their decision or say in the matter

When Whatever It Takes is done, Zestial suggests for Carmilla to contact you on the matter since this was out of her hands. Carmilla sit back down on her chair, holding out a pendant with an eye design on it

The Egg Boiz reported to Alastor that Carmilla was the one to kill the angel and that she may contact someone, telling Alastor that Carmilla might have someone to back her up without knowing that Alastor know who it was implying

The same Egg Boiz didn’t mention you to Sir Pentious and only Carmilla killing an angel

(behind the scenes: you instructed for Carmilla to continue as always and maybe provide help to the hotel if she deemed it worthy)

Episode 4: Masquerade

When Valentino is offering a place for Charlie to star, he mentions how it could make him rich and show his dues to you without specifically mentioning you. Valentino’s a bit condescending when he addresses Charlie because he only sees you to be the one in higher power and rank

Valentino threatens Angel, hinting how he wouldn’t have some weak Princess or contracted soul ruin things for him. Meaning he is aware that he’s on thin ice with your interest and favour. Also implying that Charlie was nothing for him to fear, because he fears your wrath more

Valentino laughs how Charlie has no real power compared to what he faced with, confusing Angel since he has no idea of your involvement in the Overlords’ circle

While Husk was mentioning about his Overlord status, for the first time you’re mentioned, he talks about The Collector. “But when you’re dealing with souls while also being a gambler, the stakes are pretty high. I was warned about that, but when you’re winning, you don’t hear that kinda stuff. In my place, I lose a few hands and it got dangerous that I didn’t even know. When you’re down on your luck, you turn to anything to keep you afloat. Even making deals yourself.”

“What happened?”

“Turns out, I was long abandoned. And I wasn’t in the group anymore when I have that last deal. Like the fallen Overlords before me, I was hunted for being disrespectful and arrogant. Now I’m here.”

Episode 5: Dad Beat Dad

“Big talk for someone who’s also on a leash.”

“I should have torn your soul apart and broadcasted your screams for every other disrespectful wretch who dares to abuse My Liege’s mercy and generousity! You were lucky your former Liege was merciful enough not to let your death happen.”

When Lucifer’s lecturing on Charlie about the hotel, he mentions how it lacks the power and authority needed to make it work. It’s referencing to you teaching Lucifer how to rule as the King of Hell when he first arrived

Episode 6: Welcome to Heaven

N/A

Episode 7: Hello Rosie!

(behind the scenes after Vaggie left, Carmilla grips on the pendant and hopes she did the right thing that wouldn’t disappoint you)

Episode 8: The Show Must Go On

The the Vees celebrate, they explicitly cheer for joy and anticipation that Alastor would be removed from the Collection of Elite while eyes were staring at them without their knowledge, also mentioning how they’d rise in ranks (favour)

Alastor’s breakdown is more centered around the possibility that he knew you were always watching and saw his defeat and shameful retreat, for his actions, he might fall from your interest and favour. He fears he’ll end up like Husk

When the news of the canceled extermination is being broadcasted to all of Hell, your silhouette was shown by a window with eyes closed and a small smile on your face. “Time to check in.”

Note: You can ignore this or not, but I had to at least put this out cause some Overlords' actions are a bit different, namely Alastor's breakdown reason.

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland @crowleysthings @donustellaron @mistpurpl3 @plutobots @ray-rook

[tiktaalic]

Girls will be like yeah so basically Taylor swift has eradicated all attempts at creativity in favor of seamlessly merging her IDENTITY to PRODUCT and I will give accolades where accolades are due. She has been very successful at this probably the most successful person on earth at this and all it cost her is her soul. And it DID cost a soul. You could make a graph between amount of streams and quality of work and see so clearly the inverse relationship materialize before your eyes. She was not born a hack but embraced the life of a hack when she realized she would be more popular with platitudes and dialing back on oversharing and being less messy. If you replace personhood with producthood you lose your humanity but your album sales go fuuuucking crazy. I can make overtures at understanding this by reminding myself she was crucified for being a person for years and years and she has been very vocal about it doing a heavy number on her psyche. Maybe when that happens to you as a teenager the trade off seems less revolting. Getting rid of something you’re mocked for having anyway and in return you are richer and more famous than anyone has any right to be. But then I scratch my head. And go but surely you see that this is a deal with the devil. Surely with the contract laid out in front of you. You gnaw your lip. You hesitate. You follow the letter of the law but skirt the spirit of it for brief shining moments. And when she’s so publicly had misogynistic vitriol levied at her. So often for so long. IS it misogynistic for your criticisms to boil down to “she’s not likable enough for me”? At what dollar amount does a millionaire going on billionaire become a public object rather than a person? Does the fact that she’s slowly revoked access to herself change this? Is it more or less human to orchestrate your life so that paparazzi only sees you on planned outings where you look impeccable and have a message to send and you are Taylor Swift The Brand after you’ve been scarred by years of being Taylor swift the young woman in the tail end of the aughts and the 2010s ripped to shreds scrutinized for every choice and smile and dress and man? Is there a passable essay in the title Taylor Swift Doesn’t Owe You Authenticity. Maybe! but doesn’t she as an artist work at a job where she’s supposed to produce. Art? It sounds like I’m asking for ballads but I’m really not I’m asking for a song that is good. Im asking for a cruel summer which is irreplicable but surely the minds behind it can produce something more than snow on the fucking beach? Or am I overestimating the continued talent of a woman who is the platonic ideal of a target shopper? Is it misogynistic to believe the platonic ideal of a target shopper can’t create with a soul? How to talk about the fall off of Taylor swift in a woman honoring way?

five minutes later. You can’t spell awesome without ME!

[whatswrongwithblue]

Artowrk by inuhalfdemon

Series Masterlist

Summary:

He took her face between his clawed hands and kissed her, hard and quick.

“So now that I have you back,” as he spoke, his voice crackled and lowered several octaves, and the room darkened as he allowed his power to slip out just enough to make reality around them go fuzzy. “I’m not letting you go.”

In the 1950's, Alastor met the woman he would eventually marry but unfortunately his Radio Demon persona went for her soul rather than her hand. He has to learn what it means to love, and cherish, without possessing and he does. Their relationship is beautiful, strong, unbreakable . . . but he carries a dark secret through their marriage for decades until eventually he has to face the consequences of that secret and leave her, without warning, for seven years. He returns, finding her at the Hazbin Hotel, and has to convince her to forgive him, while being literally bound to secrecy, unable to tell her any of things he now is desperate to explain to her.

(This is a duel timeline fic, timestamps will be a the top of every chapter.)

TW: canon typical violence, language, character behavior. recreational drug use. body image issues. references to self harm. OC has ptsd from sexual trauma and spousal abuse - not from Alastor! cannibalism. gun violence. slow burn. alastor is an ass and alastor is also soft. the smut will eventually include: p&v, fingering, oral - both receiving. biting, scratching, blood play. occasional shadow tentacle and sex toy usage. Anal play. Nun Alastor makes an appearance later on. Breeding kinks - both Alastor and OC deal with breeding cycles. Touch adverse Alastor. Ace-spectrum Alastor.

Also available on AO3 .

Chapter 1 - The Pilot: Alastor returns to Hell. Basically the events of the Pilot, but rewritten with Mina present.

Part 1

Chapter 2 - Reflections. The short story of Mina's life and death.

Chapter 3 - Overture. Events of Episode 1 as well as what happened during the Extermination the day before.

Part 2

Chapter 4 - Terminally Dispelled. Mina arrives in Hell.

Chapter 5 - Radio Killed the Video Star. Events of Episode 2. Alastor is a simping show-off but still not good at processing emotions.

Part 3

Chapter 6 - Little Sunshine. - Mina's POV from the end of last chapter.

Chapter 7 - Ashes in My Wake. - Alastor handle's being smitten really, really badly.

Chapter 8 - Scrambled Eggs. - Alastor finds out someone has hurt his wife.

Part 4

Chapter 9 - Wretched and Joyful. - "First time" smut

Chapter 10 - Masquerade. - Events of Episode 4. Angst ahead!

Chapter 11 - Stitches. - Angst & post-fight make-up smut

Part 5

Chapter 12 - Drunk on Life. - extra fluff & smut

Chapter 13 - Dad Beat Dad. - Events of Episode 5 w/ smut.

Part 6 - Alastor in rut smut but also lots of dark themes. Please mind the tags of these chapters.

Chapter 14 - Welcome to Heaven.

Chapter 15 - Tainted.

Chapter 16 - Possessed.

Chapter 17 - The Prophetess vs. The Nun.

Chapter 18 - Welcome (Back) to Heaven.

Part 7

Chapter 19 - A Fate that Befell Him. - proposal & wedding day

Chapter 20 - The Silence in Between. - honeymoon smut

Chapter 21 - Hello Abaddon. - recruitment for the hotel battle

Chapter 22 - House on Fire - smut rather than dealing with feelings.

Everything below is finished, only unpublished because I need to proof read!

Part 8

Chapter 23 - Don't Take That Sinner From Me. - the day alastor left

Chapter 24 - Just Pretend. - have some more angst. as a treat.

Chapter 25 - A Place to Put Your Pain. - surprise! more smut

Chapter 26 - The Show Must Go On. - the battle

Bonus Chapters

Chapter 1 - The Library - bonus smut

Chapter 2 - Poppin' Molly - Alastor on drugs, enough said

Chapter 3 - There's Children Screaming in the Streets - my dear friend @safination wrote a Sinner's POV of Chapter 23 and it's amazing!

[ninibeingdelulu]

A kid’s dream ✧

Plot: You find 5 years old Bachira playing alone, so you decide to join him.

A/N: Can I say im proud of this post ? Cause I am. Oh and if you didn’t understand you’re a kid too, like the same age as him.

The late afternoon light cast a warm, honeyed glow across the empty sandbox, creating wispy shadows that danced and flickered playfully with the faintest breeze.

A chubby-cheeked little boy with a tousled mop of messy black curls bounded around the sun-dappled area, kicking a battered soccer ball in exaggerated, uncoordinated motions.

Despite his cherubic features and bright sapphire eyes sparkling with pure glee, something melancholic emanated from the small figure.

A cloud of perpetual isolation, as if the tiny boy orbited on a plane just adjacent to all his peers - forever the outsider peering in.

"Haha! Did you see that shot?!"

Meguru shouted to no one in particular, tiny chest heaving from exertion as he beamed proudly at the ball now rolling to a stop several feet away.

Before he could race after it again, a soft voice piped up from behind causing the young boy to pivot with those big doe eyes blown wide.

"Whatcha doin'?"

You toddled across the sandy pit, downy hair ruffled by the balmly zephyrs tickling your round cheeks.

Despite the cherubic picture of innocence you painted, Meguru immediately bristled - shoulders hunching as if bracing for the inevitable round of mockery that always accompanied any overtures at friendly interaction.

He lifted a chubby arm to vigorously rub at his button nose, regarding you with open suspicion laced through those crystal azure pools.

"Um...playin' soccer?"

A puzzled nose-wrinkle creased your brow at Meguru's inexplicable wariness to so simple an inquiry.

"All by yourself?"

The little boy merely nodded, muddy cleats scuffing the sand as he shuffled in place - clearly prepared for the teasing jabs that typically followed such observations from other kids.

Realizing he wasn't going to supply any additional details unprompted, you simply traipsed nearer, wide-eyed with youthful curiosity.

"But that seems lonely..." You cocked your head to one side, round features scrunched in consternation.

"Do you wanna play together? I'm not very good yet, but I can try!"

Meguru froze, mouth parting with unspoken surprise at your words - so averse to the ugly responses long imprinted on his young psyche.

Was this some cruel joke? A setup to deliver an even more brutal punchline mocking his desires for friendship?

Frantically his gaze searched yours for any trace of trickery or meanness, finding only the most openly earnest and disarmingly sweet expression mirrored back at him.

You simply waited, clumsily fidgeting with the hem of your shirt as minutes ticked by suspended in breathless hope.

That strange, untapped warmth began radiating through Meguru's tiny chest as the reality cemented in his mind. Not only did you wish to play with him...but there was no scorn or malice in your proposition whatsoever!

Within seconds, his whole demeanor transformed in a blinding shift as happiness and disbelieving joy erased all lingering uncertainty.

Scrambling closer to you, the little boy's sun-kissed features split in a megawatt grin of purest elation so overflowing, it seemed to eclipse his entire miniature frame.

Those big sapphire eyes sparkled like crystalline dewdrops, all radiant hope and heart-bursting affection.

Eagerly Meguru reached for your hand, bouncing on the balls of his tiny feet with infectious enthusiasm.

"Yeah!! Yeah, I wanna play together!!"

He squeezed your fingers tight, as if trying to fuse your joined souls into an adamant tether even at this tender age.

Giggling at his exuberance, you gave a reciprocating squeeze as the two of you tumbled onto the sand in a whirl of kicking legs and peals of carefree, tinkling laughter.

Any apprehension evaporated in the golden warmth of this newly-forged comradeship encircling you both in its glow.

For Meguru, it was as if the universe itself had rewarded his earnest desires with the ultimate miracle - a friend, one who could see the boundless depths of his spirit beyond cold, callous judgements.

In those fleeting moments, the young striker felt buoyantly weightless and complete, untethered by solitude for the first time in his short life so far.

His whole world shifted onto an exciting new axis the instant you graced it with simple, radiant innocence and acceptance. In that moment, nothing else in existence could touch him but the breathtaking potential for adventure and belonging stretching into the horizon...

[andy-15-07]

Paul Mescal Masterlist

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

Lucius Verus

An heir of Rome

The Emperor's Healer

♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

Paul Mescal

A Night to Remember

Movie Night Comforts

Two Souls, One Heart

Puppies, Promises, and Pure Joy

Whispers in the Dark

Ink and Intimacy

Irish Charm

Love in the Emerald Isle

Set on Fire

A Love Story for the Ages

Perfectly Simple

Between the Tweets

Rivals to Lovers

The Fitting Room

The Overture

Home Sweet Home

A Family Complete

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Achilles Come Down (Gang of Youths)

The self is not so weightless, nor whole and unbroken/Remember the pact of our youth/Where you go, I’m going, so jump and I’m jumping/Since there is no me without you

How, the most dangerous thing is to love/How, you will heal and you'll rise above/Crowned by an overture bold and beyond/Ah, it's more courageous to overcome.

You may feel no purpose/Nor a point for existing/It's all just conjecture and gloom/And there may not be meaning/So find one and seize it/Do not waste your self on this roof

Soldier on, Achilles, Achilles, come down/Won't you get up off, get up off the roof?

"I'm sure you'll get other submissions for this one. I have no idea who this band even are outside of this song but it fucks me up like it does everyone else. It's the tragic love of it all. The desperation of trying to save your loved one from themselves. Or are the narrators of the song Achilles' own conscience representing his indecision on whether to kill himself or not? It can mean so many things and SO many parts of the lyrics are very poetic and powerful. (also again for me this makes me cry over a Specific Blorbo in this case Dimitri Blaiddyd but that doesnt matter)"

"The cellos in the background, the lyrics, telling the story of Achilles, the fact that it's fucking 7min long, it's beautiful, it breaks me to then pull me back together, it gave me hope in a moment where I wasn't in the best mental space, it's like getting undressed to your very soul only to be cover up with a weighted blanket afterwards and be told "it'll be alright." It's like that image with the guy that's like "this is cinema" but with a song, god I love this song so much"

"Ohhhg my god. It’s so. It’s a fucking heartbreaking song but it gives hope (^^see abovw lyrics. there may not be meaning so find one and seize it gets me the most). I can’t say anymore about it but yeah"

"Achilles is about to jump off the roof, his lover is trying to convince him not to. the vibe of this song itself is so unique, the violin and the segments of French reading really grip at your soul. Towards the end there are two voices seemingly arguing. One voice is Achilles’s inner monologue and the other is his lover trying to yell over it. This part is my favorite, especially if you’re envisioning your blorbo. Tbh in my darkest times I would fall asleep to the ten hour loop every night. It felt like laying on a rooftop and looking out at the stars and the street lights. I think maybe it kept me from doing things I would regret."

Fast Car (Tracy Chapman)

You got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere/Maybe we make a deal, maybe together we can get somewhere/Any place is better, starting from zero got nothing to lose/Maybe we'll make something, me myself I got nothing to prove

So I remember when we were driving, driving in your car/Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk/City lights lay out before us/ And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder/And I-I, had a feeling that I belonged

You got a fast car/Is it fast enough so we can fly away?/We gotta make a decision/Leave tonight or live and die this way

"I know it's an obvious one but YOU try playing it without crying I dare you"

"I cant explain the yearning but this makes me howl"

"OH GOD the longing!! The yearning in the recurring central image of the narrator and her lover on the highway, feeling this sense of limitless possibility and incredible hope!!! And then the verses take us with brutal efficiency through the collapse of their marriage, the way that the cycle of poverty stomps down on their hopes, and how with nothing left, the narrator does what her mom did and leaves!! Leaving the kids to experience the same thing she did growing up!! But it’s all punctuated and bookended by these callbacks to that central iconic memory of hope!!!!! But by the end we realize that the last line “leave tonight or live and die this way” offers only the illusion of a choice: when the narrator first runs away and later when she leaves her husband and kids, she’s still fulfilling her role in this cyclical generational story. God!!"

Fast Car submitted by @smallboyonherbike + @uchihasasukeofficial + @all-our-exploring

[mivalyn]

👄 No safe words 👄

18+, mdni!

König x Ghost x fem! reader 18+

Cw: non-consensual sex, BDSM, degradation, forced oral sex, anal sex, bondage, captivity, power imbalance, unprotected sex, forced orgasm denial

!Requests are open!

Word count: 1,514

Your eyes snap open to a room suffocating under the weight of expensive incense and the cloying, metallic tang of old cum. Heavy, blood-red velvet drapes, like morbid shrouds, obscure the dim light. Silk sheets, slick with the residue of their previous depravity – a glistening testament to their perversions – cling to your skin, a second, unwelcome layer. Your wrists, raw and chafed, are bound tight to the ornate, tarnished headboard of the four-poster bed – a gilded cage for your soon-to-be-broken body. Your legs are splayed wide, your ankles similarly secured, offering you up as a sacrifice on this lavish altar of pain and pleasure. A primal, gut-wrenching fear wars with a sickening, almost perverse thrill. This is it. 24/7 servitude to König and Ghost.

König, an Austrian predator sculpted from arrogance and tailored suits, stands at the foot of the bed, his piercing blue eyes glittering with cruel amusement. One hand idly caresses his thick, uncut cock, the glistening head a testament to his anticipation; the veins bulging obscenely beneath the taut skin. The other hand trails lazily along your inner thigh, fingers pressing into your sensitive skin, deliberately teasing, provoking a shudder through your already taut body. His Austrian accent, a low, guttural growl, rasps in your ear, promising tortures that will make your very soul scream. Beside him, Ghost – a blond Adonis whose eyes hold the murky, stagnant horror of swamp water – watches with a predatory gleam. His own cock twitches, a single drop of pre-cum clinging to the tip like a morbid jewel; the swollen head throbbing with barely contained lust. The air thrumms with anticipation, the scent thick and heavy, a miasma of lust, impending degradation, and something primal and undeniably animalistic. Your pussy clenches, a desperate, involuntary plea for the inevitable violation – a desperate attempt to prepare for the onslaught.

They approach, their combined dominance suffocating. Their hands are everywhere, rough, demanding, violating. They cup your breasts, their fingers digging into your flesh, squeezing your nipples until they are achingly hard, the sensitive skin turning a bruised purple. Then, lower, their fingers trace the curve of your thighs, exploring the slick, heated flesh between your legs, their touch lingering on your clit, a prelude to the torture to come. A strangled gasp escapes your lips as their fingers find your clit, their touch alternating between a tender caress that promises a release you'll be cruelly denied, and a brutal pinch that instantly steals any hope of respite. A silent, feral understanding passes between them, a predatory dance of mutual dominance, and you know – with a chilling certainty – this is merely the overture to your descent into their depraved hellscape.

König leans in, his hot breath ghosting across your ear, whispering your safe words – a twisted reassurance, a mocking promise of control he will soon shatter. "Remember, mein Schatz," he purrs, the words slithering out like venomous snakes, "you only cum when we say so." The words brand themselves into your soul, searing a mark of utter ownership. You are theirs. Body and mind.

A cold, metallic clamp clamps onto your clit, the sharp, agonizing pinch making you buck involuntarily against the restraints. You gasp, a raw sound of pain and desperate need tearing from your throat. "Breathe," Ghost murmurs, his voice a silken caress as he presses a vibrator against your already overstimulated clit, the pleasure a cruel counterpoint to the searing pain of the clamp; the throbbing a prelude to the agony and the ecstasy to come. The vibrations build in intensity, pushing you toward a precipice of unimaginable pleasure and pain.

Slick, cool lube coats your crack, the coldness a stark contrast to the burning heat that’s spreading through your body. The anticipation is a physical ache, a desperate hunger for the pain you know is coming. König's cock, thick and brutally hard, presses against your asshole, stretching you to your absolute limit. You feel the skin tear, the raw pain a shock that quickly morphs into a raw, burning pleasure as he pushes inside you, filling you completely. His thrusts are deep and deliberate, each one an invasion, a violation. Meanwhile, Ghost's cock hovers over your face. "Open," he commands, his voice sharp, leaving no room for refusal. You obey, the salty taste of his pre-cum coating your tongue before the full, brutal length of him fills your mouth. You gag, your throat burning, but his grip on your hair is firm, unrelenting, and you're forced to take him deep, his rhythm pounding against the back of your throat. You feel their power, the rhythmic pounding of König inside your ass, the relentless, brutal thrusting of Ghost in your mouth; a total surrender of your body, your will, your very self. You taste his cum, metallic and bitter, as it explodes deep in your throat, and you are forced to swallow, the taste lingering like a testament to their dominance.

Your moans grow louder, desperate, animalistic, a mixture of pain and pleasure that spills from your lips. The vibrator pulses against your clit, bringing you to the edge, only to cruelly pull you back. They savor your struggle, your whimpers and gasps, their eyes alight with a predatory glee. König’s thrusts become more forceful, each one a hammer blow against your sanity, the friction against your intestinal walls unbearable and exhilarating. Ghost’s grip on your hair tightens, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each savage push, the base of it swelling inside you, filling you with a sense of suffocating power. The clamp bites harder, the vibrator throbbing relentlessly. Then, just as you are about to shatter, they slow, pulling you back from the brink of release, leaving you trembling on the precipice of oblivion, your body screaming for the release they are so cruelly denying.

“Remember,” König growls, his voice thick with lust, "you will not come unless we allow it.” His cock pulses deep inside you, filling you, leaving you weak and trembling. You nod, tears streaming down your face, a mixture of frustration, exquisite agony, and a perverse, undeniable arousal. The anticipation is unbearable, a delicious torture that leaves you aching, begging for more, even as you know it will only bring more pain. They resume, their movements perfectly synchronized, pushing you to the edge again and again, only to cruelly deny you release. The rhythmic pounding of their bodies inside you becomes a blur of sensation - pain, pleasure, humiliation, and a strange, terrifying sense of power.

Each thrust is a violation, a conquest. The clamp pulses against your clit, a relentless reminder of their complete control. The taste of Ghost’s cum still lingers in your mouth, the metallic tang a grim testament to his dominance. You are theirs, completely, utterly, a willing vessel for their depraved desires. Your body is stretched, your senses overwhelmed, your moans a symphony of pain and pleasure, a desperate, guttural plea for something you know they will only reluctantly give.

Then, a final, brutal thrust from König, a jolt of pure electricity that rips through your core, sending a wave of agonizing pleasure and searing pain through your entire body. Simultaneously, Ghost’s grip on your hair tightens, his strokes in your mouth becoming savage, his cock a brutal piston driving itself relentlessly into you. The clamp is released, the sudden freedom sending you hurtling over the edge in a scream that mixes with Ghost’s own guttural moans. The orgasm tears through you, a storm of sensation, a release so intense it leaves you gasping for breath, your body convulsing uncontrollably.

They pull out, leaving you panting, spent, your body a slick mess of sweat and cum. But they aren’t done. Ghost slides into your slick pussy, his cock filling the space, his strokes hard and fast. You are filled, overflowing with their seed, and you beg, your safe words forgotten, for release, for oblivion. Their movements quicken, harder, more brutal, driving you towards another peak. You are their toy, a plaything to be used and abused, broken and remade in their image. Yet, in this moment of utter surrender, of complete and total degradation, you feel utterly alive, more connected to them than you ever thought possible.

König’s final thrust sends a wave of his cum deep into your ass, a hot, thick explosion that fills you completely. The simultaneous eruption of Ghost inside you pushes you over the edge once more, a second orgasm that leaves you limp and spent. Silence descends, broken only by your ragged breaths and the throbbing pulse of your body. You are left trembling, bound and used, a mess of sweat and cum. But this, you know, is just the beginning. Ghost reattaches the clamp, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "Think we're finished?" he whispers, his voice a venomous caress. "This, my little pet, is merely the warm-up." König kisses your brow, his eyes gleaming with a chilling promise. "We have all night, and all of tomorrow, to show you exactly what it means to be ours."