#star led curtain

[drapekings]

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[areislol]

being transported into their world 2

►— pairings. honkai star rail men x gn! creator! reader

►— warnings. nothing really, proofread 🙅🏻‍♀️, caelus is the trailblazer, romantic but you can see it was platonic if you want to! boothill lore, slight angst sahau (self aware honkai au)

►— synopsis. their beloved creator, the one who created many worlds, including theirs, had yet to return after thousands of years. but lately, they've been experiencing strange things, feeling like a heavenly, divine figure loomed over them. could it possibly be their one and only creator?

►— a/n. so many ideas but so little time to write it all down!!

►— wordcount. 6.2k

The last thing you remember is the image of Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, and Bronya standing before you, the smokey, dark and ominous fog surrounding you.

Next thing you know, you're waking up in the middle of an unfamiliar weight of silk sheets pressing against your skin. Blinking rapidly, you tried to focus on the ornate ceiling above, its intricate patterns swirling in the soft morning light.

This wasn’t your room.

Confusion gripped you as you sat up quickly, only to be greeted by a pounding headache. Wincing, you pressed your hand against your forehead, trying to make sense of the disjointed memories in your mind.

The room around you was lavish, decorated with rich tapestries and elegant furniture. Everything seemed meticulously placed as if the room belonged to royalty.

The air smelled faintly of lavender and something else you couldn’t quite place. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

Just how did you end up here?

Closing your eyes, you tried to recall the events that led to this moment. It all came back in fragments, like pieces of a shattered mirror.

You were standing up, shrouded in a dark, smokey fog. The air had been thick and oppressive, making it hard to breathe. Before you, Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, and Bronya stood with expressions of worry and determination. Their faces flashed in your mind, each one etched with concern.

Were you in a dream?

The fog, the faces—it all seemed so surreal. You opened your eyes again, scanning the room for any clues. The furniture was heavy and ornate.

A grand mirror stood in one corner, reflecting the dishevelled state of your appearance. Your clothes were the same as before but seemed out of place in this opulent setting.

Pushing the covers aside, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, feeling the cool marble floor beneath your feet. The pounding in your head persisted, but you forced yourself to stand, determined to get out of this unknown place.

Each step felt like a struggle, your body weighed down by an invisible force. You approached the window, drawing back the heavy curtains to reveal a breathtaking view of a cityscape blanketed in snow.

Tall, imposing buildings of grand architecture stretched out before you, their intricate designs dusted with white. The streets below were covered in a moderate layer of snow, and the occasional figure bundled in winter attire moved through the frosty landscape.

Your mind raced with possibilities. Had you been transported here by some unknown force? Was this just a particularly long dream? Shaking your head you cleared your mind, yes... it was a dream, it had to be a dream.

Besides suddenly waking up from an unfamiliar room, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched since the moment you awoke. Turning away from the window, you noticed a door on the far side of the room. It was slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of the hallway beyond.

Cautiously, you approached the door, your senses on high alert. Peeking through the crack, you saw a long corridor lined with more doors, each one identical to the next. The silence was eerie, broken only by the faint sound of your breathing.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open wider and stepped into the hallway. You wished that the floor was covered in carpet, it was extremely cold. You had no idea where you were going, but you couldn’t stay in that room any longer.

Turning a corner, you nearly bumped into a figure standing in the shadows. Startled, you took a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. The figure stepped forward, revealing a familiar face.

Grey hair, a pretty face, tall... the Astral Express golden ticket... wait...

“Caelus?” you whispered, barely daring to believe it.

Caelus’s eyes widened as he registered your voice. His surprise quickly turned into awe, and he stumbled backward, nearly losing his balance. Without a moment's hesitation, he dropped to his knees, pressing his forehead against the cold, hard floor.

"Your Gracefulness," he murmured, his voice trembling with reverence. "I am honoured to be in your presence."

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by his reaction. It wasn’t the response you expected. To them, you were not just a friend or a fellow traveller; you were the creator, the one who shaped their very existence. The weight of his words made you feel uneasy.

"Uh, please, get up," you urged, feeling a mix of discomfort and compassion. "You don’t have to kneel."

He hesitated for a moment before slowly rising to his feet, his eyes still filled with awe, oh his dear creator, what a kind soul they are! "Forgive me, Your Gracefulness. It’s just... we’ve been searching for you, and to find you here..."

Caelus was sure that he would get a scolding for talking to his Holy Grace for too long, he was sure of it. But he just couldn't stop the words pouring out of his mouth, all the years of yearning to meet you... and now you were here, right in front of him, before his eyes.

You offered a small nervous, reassuring smile despite the uncertainty gnawing at you. "I—I see." You bit your bottom lip, completely uncertain of what to do now as you stand there awkwardly with a curious Caelus.

"What... happened? I don't recall being here from the start," You asked, taking a moment to observe the ornaments around you. Caelus straightens his back, clearing his throat before speaking.

"You fainted a few minutes after coming out of the meteoroid. Thankfully Dan Heng caught you just in time, and then Bronya decided to keep you here, we were unsure when you would wake up."

"How long was I unconscious for?"

"Four days, your Grace."

"FOUR DAYS?!" The word came out in a disbelieving whisper, your mind reeling.

"Yes, your Grace." He nodded, a bit taken aback by your raised voice. You stood there, trying to process the information, feeling awkward and out of place.

Caelus's expression softened slightly before giving you a nod. "I'll take you to them." He guided you down the hall to another room, while you both walked you looked around once again, everything was different, not just your surroundings but the atmosphere was heavy.

You took in a deep breath, trying your best to calm yourself down. You knew that you were safe (although this place was still new to you), you knew these people, what they were like, everything.

They were famous video game characters. The very video game characters that you spend weeks on trying to find the right and perfect relic for them.

Honkai Star Rail drained your pockets, the lore and story were addictive, the play-style was addictive, and the pulling animation was addictive. Unsurprisingly, after a week of downloading the game, you were hooked.

It was a surprise that you weren't in debt... You shook your head, clearing your clouded mind. It was tough to digest the fact that you were walking right beside the Caelus!!

It was a silent walk with only the sounds of his shoes squeaking every there and then, it was clear how polished the floors were.

Caelus dared not to speak up in your holy presence. Was he even worthy of speaking to you let alone bask in your presence?

As you continued down the hallway, Caelus remained close by, his protective instincts heightened by your presence. The corridors seemed to stretch endlessly, each one identical to the last.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched, and the oppressive silence only added to your unease.

Calm down, you thought. No one's going to jump you..

Not long after Caelus stopped in his tracks, moving to the side as his hand rested on the door handle. The door was huge and elaborate, probably three times your size, and you finally heard faint voices.

Caelus signalled for you to stay back as he approached the source of the sound. Moments later, he beckoned you forward. You hurried to his side, peering into a large room filled with familiar faces.

As you entered, Dan Heng, Bronya, and Gepard looked up from their conversation. Relief, admiration and shock washed over their faces when they saw you.

"Your Gracefulness," Dan Heng said, bowing his head slightly. "I—It's a pleasure to meet you."

Everyone in the room had stood up from the seats, immediately bowing down with one knee, their eyes set downcast, refusing to even look at you. They remained solemn and reverent, their gestures filled with respect and devotion—an act that left you utterly speechless.

The room was silent, barely even a breath could be heard. You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, a deep discomfort settling into your bones.

This wasn’t something you were used to.

Back home, you were just another person, another face in the crowd. But here… here you were something else entirely apparently.

The realization struck you again, hard and jarring: you’d been "isekai’d" into the world of Honkai: Star Rail, a place where the characters you once guided and watched from behind a screen now saw you as their Creator, their Gracefulness.

But that didn’t make this any less strange.

"Please," you said, your voice shaky, betraying the unease you felt. "You don't need to do that. I'm just… I mean, I’m not—" You trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

How do you tell them that you didn’t see yourself as anything more than a normal person? That this whole situation felt surreal, like a dream you hadn’t quite woken up from yet?

Dan Heng, still kneeling, glanced up at you, his eyes calm and steady. "Your Gracefulness," he began, his tone soft but firm, "It is only right that we show you the respect you deserve. You are our creator, the one who has guided us through countless battles and decisions."

Bronya nodded, her gaze filled with a mixture of awe and dedication. "Without you, we wouldn’t be who we are today. This is the least we can do to honour your presence."

Gepard remained silent but his expression was resolute, as if nothing you said could change his mind about bowing before you. Caelus, however, looked a bit hesitant, perhaps sensing your discomfort more than the others. Yet, even he remained in place, waiting for your acknowledgment.

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump in your throat. It was overwhelming, this level of devotion and reverence. It wasn’t something you ever imagined experiencing, and certainly not something you knew how to handle.

You’d come here, to this world, not out of a desire to rule or be worshipped, but by some strange twist of fate. The weight of their expectations, their respect—it felt heavy, almost suffocating.

"I appreciate… everything you’re saying," you began slowly, trying to find the right balance between acknowledging their feelings and setting boundaries. "But really, you don’t have to bow to me. I’m still… me. Just a person. I’m not used to this, and it makes me feel… awkward."

The room fell into a brief silence, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. You could see the conflict in their eyes—caught between their ingrained sense of duty and their desire to respect your wishes.

Finally, Caelus was the first to move, rising to his feet with a small, understanding smile. "If it makes you uncomfortable," he said, "then we’ll try to find another way to show our respect. But know that our loyalty for you remains unchanged."

One by one, the others followed suit, standing slowly. Gepard gave you a respectful nod, while Bronya offered a gentle smile, her previous intensity softening. Dan Heng lingered the longest, his gaze searching your face as if trying to understand you better, before finally standing as well.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, a small wave of relief washing over you. This was all so new, so overwhelming, but at least now, with them standing, you felt like you could breathe a little easier.

Even if you were their creator, you didn’t want to be put on a pedestal. You just wanted to go home.

"Thank you," you said quietly, your voice sincere. "I really appreciate it."

And with that, the tension in the room eased, the atmosphere shifting back to something more comfortable, more manageable. You were still trying to wrap your head around everything, but at least now, you didn’t feel so alone in it.

"We were worried about you." Bronya stepped forward, her expression a mixture of concern and determination. "Are you feeling alright? Do you need a doctor? I can get them right away—"

You shook your head, trying to maintain your composure despite the overwhelming emotions swirling inside you. "I'm alright," you said, but even as the words left your lips, you could feel the weight of them.

Your head was pounding, a relentless reminder of everything you had just been through. The disorientation, the headaches—symptoms of something far greater than mere confusion.

You were trying to grasp the reality that had been thrust upon you, the fact that you were no longer in your world, that you had died, and now… now you were here.

Dan Heng’s eyes softened as he watched you, his usually calm demeanour laced with a subtle concern. "It’s understandable that you’re disoriented," he said, his voice steady but filled with empathy.

"You’ve been through something unimaginable. Arriving here so suddenly… it’s not something anyone could easily adjust to."

You looked down, your mind flashing back to that moment—the car crash. The impact, the pain, the sudden darkness. You remembered the sensation of being pulled away, as if your very soul had been yanked from your body, only to be confined within something cold and unforgiving.

The next thing you knew, you were hurtling through the sky, encased in what felt like a stuffy coffin, and then… Belobog.

You winced, the memory of it all almost too much to bear. "What… what did you see when I arrived?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, heavy and laden with the fear of hearing the answer.

Gepard, who had been standing a little behind the others, stepped forward, his expression sombre. "When you appeared… you were in some sort of meteorite. It was like nothing we’d ever seen before. It came crashing down from the sky, landing just outside the city walls of Belobog."

"There was news that this month, the creator would return. Everyone was on high alert and once one of my guards spotted a mysterious crater, everyone knew that it had to be you."

Caelus nodded, his tone still filled with concern. "It was like a shooting star, only… darker. And when we approached, we saw you inside, unconscious. We had no idea what to do, but we knew we had to get you out of there, to help you."

Bronya’s gaze softened as she watched you struggle to process their words. "You were in a state of complete stasis, almost as if you were… suspended between worlds. We’ve never encountered anything like it."

The room seemed to close in around you as you tried to reconcile what they were telling you with what you knew—or thought you knew. You had died. You felt it. And yet, here you were, standing in a world you had only ever seen on a screen, surrounded by people who weren’t supposed to exist.

A headache pulsed at your temples, and you pressed a hand to your forehead, trying to steady yourself. The world felt like it was spinning, the reality of your situation crashing down on you like a tidal wave.

Caelus immediately stood by your side, his hands hesitating to hold you before shaking his head ever so slightly, holding your arm and waist to keep you from falling.

"I… I don’t understand," you murmured, more to yourself than to them. "I died. I remember the crash. I remember everything going dark, how on Earth did I..."

Dan Heng took a step closer, his presence grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected. "It must have been a traumatic experience," he said softly, his voice gentle as if he were trying not to overwhelm you further.

"But you’re here now. Whatever happened, whatever brought you here, I think it was fate, just like how the legends had stated."

You wanted to believe him, wanted to find comfort in his words, but the reality of it all was still too much.

How could you be here, alive, in a place that shouldn’t even exist? And what did it mean that they were treating you like this—as if you were someone of immense importance, someone with power, someone they called their "Gracefulness"?

"I’m sorry," you said, your voice trembling slightly. "I just… I need a moment to process all of this."

Bronya stepped forward, her expression filled with understanding. "Take all the time you need. We’re here for you."

Gepard nodded in agreement, his voice steady and reassuring. "We’ll be by your side, your wish is our command."

You stood there, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, trying to make sense of everything that had happened, everything that was happening now. The room felt both too large and too small at the same time as if the walls were closing in on you while the ceiling stretched out into infinity.

——

The rest of the day passed in a blur of activity as you found yourself surrounded by a level of attention and care that was both overwhelming and humbling. Bronya, ever the efficient leader, took charge of organizing a grand celebration in honour of your return.

It was to be the most elaborate, grand and magnificent, parade ever. Only the best for their beloved creator.

The news of your arrival spread quickly, with messages sent across Belobog and even beyond, reaching the farthest corners of the world. Shops began to close in your honour, and preparations were set in motion to ensure that everything was perfect for the festivities that would last for months.

Caelus returned back to the Astral Express to spread the news to his friends who soon sent the message worldwide, especially to their alliances.

As the day wore on, you were never alone. Dan Heng and Gepard remained by your side, they would be your guards, though you couldn’t shake the feeling of being slightly out of place.

They escorted you through the grand halls of the Supreme Guardian’s residence, offering you a glimpse into the grandeur and history of Belobog.

The building itself was massive, with high ceilings, intricate carvings, and large windows that let in streams of light, casting everything in a golden glow.

Despite the opulence around you, your mind was still trying to adjust to the reality that had been put upon you. The remnants of your previous life, the memory of your death, the inexplicable warp that had brought you here—it all lingered in the back of your thoughts, creating an undercurrent of unease that you couldn’t quite shake.

But for now, you have to focus on the present. Gepard and Dan Heng took their roles seriously, ensuring that you were comfortable, well-fed, and taken care of in every possible way. When it was time to eat, you were treated to a feast of the finest foods Belobog had to offer, dishes prepared with such care and precision that you could taste the love in every bite.

They made sure you didn’t lift a finger, encouraging you to rest when you looked tired, and when the day began to take its toll on you, they arranged for a bath to be drawn in one of the grand, marble-floored bathrooms.

The bath was a welcome respite. The water was warm, and scented with calming herbs, and as you sank into it, you could feel the tension slowly melting away.

Maids attended to you, offering you soft towels and luxurious oils, treating you with a level of care that you had never experienced before. It was almost too much—this pampering, this constant attention—but you reminded yourself that this was how they showed their respect, their gratitude for your presence in their world.

After the bath, you were led to the room that had been prepared for you, its large windows offering a view of the snow-covered city below.

The bed was soft, the sheets made of the finest silk, and as you lay down, you couldn’t help but marvel at the turn your life had taken.

Just days ago, you had been living an ordinary life, unaware of what was to come, and now… now you were here, in a world that wasn’t supposed to exist, treated as a deity by those you had only known as characters.

Sure, today would have been amazing if it weren't for the fact of constant unease nagging you in the back, it was nice to be pampered and shown love, but at the same time, you wanted to go home, back to the place that you grew up in.

As you drifted off to sleep, surrounded by the luxury and comfort that had been arranged for you, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder how long this would last.

How long you would be able to maintain this facade, to accept the adoration and devotion of those around you when deep down, you still felt like the same person you had always been—just a regular human, trying to make sense of a world that didn’t make sense at all.

But for now, you had no choice but to go along with it, to embrace the role that had been thrust upon you, even if it felt like you were living in a dream.

A dream that, for better or worse, you couldn’t wake up from.

——

The next morning, you awoke to the sound of soft knocking on your door. The sun had just begun to rise, casting a pale light across the snow-covered city of Belobog.

You could see your breath in the cool air as you stretched, still disoriented from the events of the previous day. For a moment, you wondered if it had all been a strange, vivid dream—but the grand room around you, the luxurious sheets beneath your fingers, and the echo of voices beyond the door reminded you that this was indeed your reality now.

You called for whoever was outside to enter, and the door opened to reveal Dan Heng and Gepard, both standing tall and composed. Their expressions softened when they saw you, and you noticed the subtle way their shoulders relaxed, as if simply seeing you reassured them.

"Good morning," Dan Heng said quietly, his tone respectful yet warm. "I hope you slept well."

You nodded, managing a small smile. "I did, thank you."

Gepard stepped forward, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of concern and deference. "If there's anything you need, anything at all, please don’t hesitate to ask. We've arranged for breakfast to be brought to you, and after that, if you're feeling up to it, Bronya would like to discuss the plans for the upcoming celebrations with you."

Celebrations. The word lingered in your mind, bringing with it a mix of emotions. You still weren’t sure how to feel about all of this—the way everyone seemed to look at you as if you were something divine.

It was overwhelming, and part of you wanted nothing more than to retreat, to find a quiet corner where you could process everything on your own. But you knew that wasn’t an option. You had a role to play, and even if you didn’t fully understand it, you were determined to do your best.

"I… appreciate that," you replied, your voice softer than you intended. "I’ll be ready soon."

As the two men left to give you privacy, you dressed in the clothes that had been laid out for you—a simple yet elegant outfit that, while comfortable, still bore the intricate designs and rich fabrics that seemed to be a hallmark of Belobog's fashion.

You took a moment to steady yourself, taking deep breaths as you reminded yourself that you were in control, even if it didn’t always feel like it.

When you were ready, Dan Heng and Gepard led you to a grand dining room where a lavish breakfast had been prepared. The table was set with an array of dishes—freshly baked bread, fruits, pastries, and steaming bowls of porridge.

The sight of it all made your stomach twist, not from hunger but from the sheer extravagance of it. You took a seat, and though the food was delicious, each bite felt heavy for some odd reason.

As you ate, Bronya arrived, her usual stoic demeanour softened by a hint of nervousness. She greeted you with a respectful nod before taking a seat across from you. You noticed the way her eyes flickered to Dan Heng and Gepard, almost as if she were seeking their reassurance before she spoke.

"I’m glad to see you’re well," she began, her voice calm but measured. "The people of Belobog are eager to welcome you and show their gratitude for your return. We’ve begun preparations for a series of celebrations in your honour, and I wanted to discuss the details with you, to ensure everything meets your approval."

The idea of the entire city celebrating you—parades, feasts, and gatherings in your name—felt surreal. You weren’t sure how to respond, unsure if you could live up to the expectations they had of you.

"I don’t want to disrupt anyone’s life," you said cautiously, trying to find the right words. "It’s all very overwhelming. I’m not used to being treated like this."

Bronya’s expression softened, and she exchanged a glance with Dan Heng and Gepard, who stood behind you like silent sentinels. "Your presence alone is a gift to us," she replied gently. "We don’t see it as a disruption, but rather as an honour. The people are eager to show their gratitude and to celebrate this momentous occasion."

You nodded, feeling a mixture of unease and responsibility settle in your chest. "Alright. I’ll do my best to be what you need me to be."

Bronya smiled a rare and genuine expression that made you feel a little less out of place. "Thank you," she said simply. "We’ll take care of everything. You don’t need to worry."

The rest of the day passed in a whirlwind of preparations and introductions. Bronya led you through the city, introducing you to key figures and showing you the various places where the celebrations would take place.

Everywhere you went, people bowed deeply, their eyes wide with star-struck in awe. It was both humbling and unnerving, and you found yourself struggling to find the balance between accepting their respect and trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

Dan Heng and Gepard never left your side, their presence a constant reminder that you weren’t alone in this strange new world. They were vigilant, ensuring that you were comfortable, that no one overwhelmed you, and that you had moments of rest whenever you needed them.

By the time evening fell, you were exhausted, both physically and emotionally. You had been paraded through the city, introduced to so many people, and shown the elaborate plans for the days and weeks to come.

All of it felt like a dream, and as you finally returned to your room, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of it all pressing down on you.

While you lay in bed, twiddling with the fine silk blanket, the other regions were preparing to finally gaze upon their divine creator.

——

In the Xianzhou Luofu, the atmosphere was charged with anticipation as the news of the Creator’s return spread. Within the grand halls of the Divine Foresight, Fu Xuan stood before the Council of Elders, delivering the monumental announcement that had just arrived from the Trailblazer.

"The Creator has returned," Fu Xuan declared with a calm but resolute voice. "They have descended in Belobog, and it is our duty to honour them with the highest respect and homage."

The Council of Elders, seasoned in both wisdom and combat, exchanged glances of disbelief and awe. The Creator, the one who had shaped their world and guided their destinies, was now walking among them once more. The gravity of this revelation weighed heavily on their minds, knowing that their response to this event would define their legacy.

Jing Yuan, the Arbiter-General of the Xianzhou Luofu, stood quietly at the back of the chamber, his usual calm demeanour betraying a hint of solemnity. The Creator’s return was a momentous occasion, and Jing Yuan felt the significance of this event.

"We must ensure that our tribute is worthy of their grace," he murmured, his eyes narrowed in contemplation.

Nearby, Loucha listened intently. His thoughts were more introspective, contemplating the deeper implications of the Creator’s return. Loucha, ever the observer, recognized the immense pressure that this event placed upon them all.

But unlike the others, his focus was not on the material offerings but on the spiritual and existential implications of meeting their Creator. He quietly resolved to find a way to honour the Creator not just through gifts but through his actions and service.

A casket would simply not do, although he was sure that you'd grow fond of it.

Hm, what else could he possibly give you...

Blade, as usual, remained silent throughout the meeting with the Stellaron Hunters. His mind, however, was not at ease. Blade’s relationship with the concept of the Creator is complex and filled with conflicting emotions.

Blade knew he had to play his part in honouring the Creator, even if it meant confronting the very things he had spent so long trying to suppress.

Preparations across the Xianzhou Luofu began immediately. Gifts were gathered from the most skilled artisans—finely crafted weapons, ancient scrolls, and traditional garments.

The best chefs prepared exquisite dishes that would showcase the rich culture of the Xianzhou. In every corner of the realm, citizens participated in rituals, prayers, and meditations, focusing their energies on the Creator.

Jing Yuan oversaw the strategic aspects of the journey, ensuring that their voyage to Belobog would be flawless. Loucha offered his medical expertise to make sure that everyone on board the vessels was in perfect health, while Blade had already begun making his way to Belobog along with Firefly and Kafka.

As the time for departure approached, the air was thick with reverence and anticipation. The Xianzhou Luofu were not just travelling to meet their Creator; they were about to present themselves as a testament to the Creator’s guidance.

Their journey to Belobog would be marked by the same dedication and honour that had defined their civilization for centuries.

Far away in Penacony, the city of innovation and creativity, the news of the Creator’s return was met with an explosion of activity. Penacony, renowned for its technological marvels and artistic achievements, reacted to the news with excitement.

Aventurine was among the first to receive the message. As soon as he got the text, he froze, eyes furiously scanning the text over and over again.

Was this real? Has the creator really come back? The one who he worshipped so obsessively?

He immediately rang Jade, his voice frantic as he spoke to her over the phone. "We cannot afford to delay," Aventurine stated.

"This is a once-in-a-lifetime event, and we must honour the Creator with everything Penacony has to offer."

Sunday, the head of the family, took charge of organizing the preparations. He ordered all renowned artists, engineers, and musicians all come together to create a tribute that would embody the spirit of their city.

Everything had to be perfect.

Sunday was enthusiastic for the Creator's return, it was not just a reflection of his usual cheerfulness—it was something far deeper, almost lovesick.

The moment he received word that the Creator had returned to their world, something in him ignited. It was as if all his life had been leading up to this moment, and now, he could finally fulfil his purpose.

“The Creator has returned,” he whispered to himself after first hearing the news, his voice trembling with a mix of awe and anticipation. His eyes, usually bright with optimism, now gleamed with a fervour that bordered on the intense.

To Sunday, this wasn’t just an event to celebrate—it was a divine calling, a chance to prove his unwavering devotion.

From that moment on, Sunday threw himself into the preparations with a single-mindedness that was almost unsettling. He didn’t just organize the celebrations—he orchestrated them with an obsession that left little room for error.

Every detail had to be perfect, and every gesture had to reflect the utmost reverence for the Creator. He wasn’t just leading the preparations; he was living them, breathing them, as though his very existence depended on it.

When rallying the artists and performers, Sunday’s usual encouragement took on a more insistent edge. “This isn’t just for any celebration,” he’d remind them, his eyes wide and unblinking. “It’s for the Creator. We must give them everything—our best and beyond.”

He’d hover over rehearsals, his smile still present but his tone sharper, more demanding. Mistakes weren’t just errors; they were almost blasphemous in his eyes.

In the kitchens, his involvement was even more intense. He tasted every dish, scrutinizing each one with a level of scrutiny that made even the most seasoned chefs nervous. “This dish needs something... more,” he’d say, his brows furrowing in concentration.

“It needs to be worthy of the Creator. Start again.” And they would, because Sunday’s passion was as contagious as it was overwhelming. Many chefs and assistants often gossiped with one another about Sunday's behaviour, he was far too obsessed.

They, of course, understood the importance of perfecting everything as well, it would be served under the gaze of their Almighty Creator, but Sunday was too overbearing, pushy and stubborn.

Everything has to be perfect.

His interactions with the other citizens of Penacony took on a different tone as well. While still encouraging, there was an underlying pressure in his words. “The Creator deserves only the best from us. Do you understand? This is our moment to show our love, and our loyalty. We can’t afford to disappoint them.”

As the days passed, Sunday’s obsession grew. He spent nights alone, surrounded by plans and lists, going over every detail until his eyes were red and his hands shook from exhaustion.

But he didn’t care. Sleep was secondary; his devotion to the Creator was all that mattered.

Boothill, unlike the others found himself in an unfamiliar situation. Normally at ease with a revolver in hand, Boothill was now tasked with selecting gifts that would impress the Creator.

He knew the importance of your arrival, but there was something that lingered at the back of his head. The memories would override his brain, successfully clouding his thoughts, all he could think about was revenge.

His home.

His daughter.

His family.

His beloved memories.

Gone. They were all gone, all because of one man: Oswaldo Schneider.

Perhaps... If he impressed you with his devotion and adoration, would you help get revenge for him? As the Creator, wouldn't you be so kind as to lend your devoted worshipper some help?

(He decided to contribute something personal—a custom-made weapon, intricately designed and crafted with precision.)

Once the word spread to Gallagher that you were finally home, Gallagher’s response was deeply rooted in a sense of duty and respect.

Like Sunday, he wanted everything to be perfect, not because of an obsessive need to impress, but because he believed it was the right thing to do.

In meetings, Gallagher was a voice of calm amidst the excitement, offering practical solutions to any challenges that arose. “Let’s focus on what’s important,” he would say, steering conversations away from extravagance and towards meaningful gestures.

He believed that the Creator would value sincerity and thoughtfulness over grand displays, and he ensured that Penacony’s contributions reflected that belief.

In his heart, Gallagher held a deep respect for you. His admiration was sincere, but it wasn’t showy. He didn’t need to prove his devotion through grand gestures or dramatic displays; his actions spoke for themselves.

He believed that true reverence was shown through quiet, consistent effort—through doing what was right, even when no one was watching.

He could just taste your happiness at the tip of his tongue, it was delicious. He began to think about your responses, what would you say? Would you accept his gift happily? Toss it away in digust?

“We’ve prepared these offerings with great care and respect, Your Grace. We hope they meet your expectations.” He would say.

"Oh, Gallagher! You shouldn't have!" You would reply.

Or...

"How bold of you to assume that I would accept such a gift from a low-life dog like you!"

Even a small smile would do.

No matter your response, he would still devote his entire being to you.

He had always been confident in his abilities, but now, faced with the Creator themselves, he wondered if his efforts would be enough. It wasn’t a question of worthiness, but of connection—he wanted the Creator to understand that Penacony’s gifts came from a place of genuine respect and loyalty.

Yet, even in this moment of uncertainty, Gallagher remained composed. He knew that whatever the Creator’s response, he had done his best.

And that, for Gallagher, was what truly mattered. He would continue to serve and protect, quietly dedicated to the Creator’s well-being, just as he had always done.

——

As the day of departure approached, Penacony and the Xianzhou Luofu were abuzz with activity. Airships were loaded with gifts, including traditional dishes, intricately designed artifacts, and artistic performances that would honour the Creator.

The entire city was involved in the preparations, each citizen contributing in their own way.

When the airships finally took flight, they carried not just the hopes of Penacony but also the dreams and creativity of its people.

This journey was more than just a trip; it was a pilgrimage to honour the Creator who had shaped their being.

note: so many wips..

tags 🏷️: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls @goldenglow149 @rhwm @urlocalheizousimp @saltylovetale-blog @toramune @oreo-ren @backintomykpopphaseagain @serenity-loves-red @flooofity @minteasketches @yurassia @chellazhef @fulldoves @kateybuggi @wanderingconstellations @mini-shower @160ccm @rosariashield @sickize @sarah22447 @dreamlessnight @gimmealmap @bebeluvs @caramelstarlight @sukiidreams @oceanist @achy-boo @alhaitie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @that-mom-friend @v-ish @merormerry @gojoulen03 @scarletttcrow @hadischara @kithewanderingme @keiqqo @livelaughlovekuni @chirikoheina @wr1t3rfum1k0 @issacdaholi @yu-ulda @alysinbshsu @vanilla-sweets @your-local-reblogging-kazoo @be-gay-do-crime-ahaha @seipaws @clavichordcleffa @uhhhiwassupp @youdontneedyoknowlol @the-lazy-perfectionist @issacdarknight @lucienbarkbark @bizzybkd @obliviousariies2007 @coffee-seedy

(if the usernames aren’t highlighted that’s because I can’t tag you so I’ll dm you when I post a new chapter! if i forgot to tag you im so sorry!)

for those i’ve taged: if you do not want to tagged for hsr drop a comment or message me.

liking + following + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

[caffeinewitchcraft]

You are a Blacksmith

Set in the universe where your destiny is written on your arm

(The Hero and Hope) (Being Villagers) (You are the Demon King)

You are a Blacksmith.

That’s why the dragon’s fire doesn’t burn you.

“Pretty sure dragon fire is hotter than a forge,” your party’s leader pants. Kent is a veteran adventurer of twenty years to your two years and he’s seen his fair share of dragon fire before today. There are curling scars dragging the corner of his mouth down into a permanent scowl that pairs oddly with how high he has his salt-and-pepper eyebrows. He exhales noisily. “I think you’re just a freak, actually.”

“Not nice,” Sella says. The archer is your age with twice your experience. Her leather armor is well-beaten by four years running around with Kent and getting far closer to battle than an archer should. Her red hair is tied with golden thread that matches the golden charms dangling from her necklace. She adds a new one with every successful monster kill. It’s lucky she’s so stealthy or else she’d be jingling with every step. “Mande is an exception, not a freak.”

You’re a party of exceptions. Most adventurers are Villagers or Guards, common destinies that don’t always find a place within a town or village that have so many of each already. There are days you report for a mission, and you’re offered a blacksmith’s job on the spot just because of the mark on your arm.

Kent is a landless Lord. There’s a story there, you know, but it’s not one he’s ever volunteered. You can see his destiny pull at him in the remote reaches of the Kingdom, where no Lord has laid roots and the monsters run roughshod across the barren soil. Nights where you’re too far from civilization find him gazing up into the stars, his fingers curled like claws into the earth. The look on his face then is so hungry that the first time you saw it, you offered him provisions from your own pack. He’d shaken his head wryly, his scarred frown twisting, and walked off into the night by himself, only returning in the morning light.

Sella is a Guardian without anyone to look after. You knew her story before she told it to you, whispering it like a bedtime story before the end of the world. She was part of a traveling theater group. She looked after them, feeding them and retrieving those with wanderlust from their journeys before curtain call. When a monster siege led by a Demon King fell upon the city they were performing in, the Lord called his people into his castle and locked the doors.

The troupe were not his people. But they were Sella’s.

Until they weren’t.

You drag your battle hammer up and over your shoulder. Conveniently, the dragon fire has burned away the wet viscera that had been clinging to it. The metal is dark with soot, but undamaged.

The things you smith can’t be melted by any fire except your own.

The skeletal trees make the scene of this final battle oddly silent. Ash drifts from the sky, carried by a wind too high to feel. You can hear your party sniping at each other behind you and the gentle gurgle of the beast’s body settling comfortably into death.

The red dragon is beautiful. Its scales gleam and sparkle like rubies in the late afternoon sun and its talons shine like obsidian. Each part of the creature could make an average family rich for a month. You consider it from an arm’s reach away. You chew your bottom lip as you think. Your adventures have taken you across the continent from the southern coast you call your home, to the western land of rivers, to the northern desert and then here, to the eastern dry lands. After all your travels, you find yourself still thinking of home often. Crab is a delicacy where you’re from despite being so close to the water. The preparation can be tedious which makes it a dish reserved from significant occasions. Cracking the shell was always your job…

“Oh,” Sella says faintly. She makes an attempt to rise and nearly tips over in the process. If it weren’t for her bow, she’d be on the ground. Her knees shake as she uses a combination of a tree and her bow to pull herself up. “Mande, rest first! In an hour I can help you—”

You bring your hammer down on the jaw of the dragon. The bone shatters after just two blows. It’s best not to think about how beautiful it looked flying overhead or the intelligence in its eyes. You’ve always had a single-minded focus and you rely on that now.

“Leave her to her dismantling,” Kent grumbles. He’s now curled up on the ground is if in his sleeping roll, hands tucked neatly under his chin. It can’t be a comfortable position given his full suit of armor no matter how peaceful his expression. “If she’s got the energy for it, who are we to argue? Just keep the ribs intact. That’s what the client wants.”

Smash!

“It’s our turn to do the dismantling,” Sella says. She glares down at Kent. “Mande already did last week’s gryphon and the hydra. Get up!”

Smash!

“I’m an old man who needs his nap time.”

“You’re an irresponsible leader who needs to do his part.”

Smash!

“Once Mande stops swinging that thing around, I will.”

“She won’t hit you—”

“She hit me last week!”

“And I apologized for that,” you say through gritted teeth. You let your hammer fall by your feet. Your last blow sent tremors through your arms. The dragon’s jaw is like glass compared to its skull. “Sincerely.”

Sella makes a gagging sound when you fall to your knees next to the cracked skull. “Mande, don’t put your hand in there, that’s – oh, that’s so gross.”

“The book I read said it’d be…aha!” Your fingers graze something cool and metallic. You abruptly feel like crying. It’s been seven months. Seven long months of endless missions and danger and being away from home. This entire dragon is priceless, but you’ve forfeited your share for this. You blink rapidly to keep your tears at bay. You aren’t going to cry. Not until you’re sure that you’ve really found it. “Quick, hand me my waterskin.”

Your urgency gets even Kent up and bustling towards the dragon’s corpse. With trembling fingers you accept the water from Stella, pulling out your prize. It’s smaller than you thought, only about the length of your arm or a third the length of the dragon’s skull.

With bated breath, you gently trickle water over the length of it. Your party kneels beside you, watching just as raptly.

“What is it?” Sella breathes.

Kent is wide-eyed as, inch by inch, your treasure reveals itself.

“A dragon’s silver wit,” you say. The silver is mottled by the dragon’s black blood and grey brain matter. “The last ingredient I need for a Hero’s Sword.”

-----.

“You can’t just make a Hero’s Sword,” Kent is still saying a week later. He throws his hands up to the sky. “Heroes make them from air and magic and righteousness. Blacksmiths just repair them!”

You didn’t ask for Sella or Kent to follow you home. In fact, you assumed they wouldn’t. The slaying of the red dragon marked the end of your time in the Adventurer’s Guild. Now you’re ready to return to your position as the southern port’s best blacksmith and you thought they’d be ready to return to the best two adventurers the Capital Guild had.

“I’ve heard legends about it,” Sella says. She’s walking backward. You’ve already warned her that the roads this far away from Capital aren’t as smooth, but she’d scoffed at your concern. Now it’s pure stubbornness to prove you wrong that has her continuing to walk backwards despite nearly tripping twice already. “Excalibur was manmade.”

“The legend of Hero Arthur is manmade,” Kent retorts.

“If you believe that,” you say, “you really don’t need to come home with me.”

Kent blinks. “Well,” he says slowly, “on the off chance it’s not a fairytale, I desperately want to see it.”

“Then shut up and follow Mande,” Sella says. She elbows him and mutters under her breath. “Or else she might not let us stay at her house.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m sure the dragon fetched enough coin for the both of you to get your own rooms at the inn.”

“Sure,” Kent agrees. He grins wickedly and the expression makes him look ten years younger. “But we’re not going to do that, are we Sella?”

“Nope,” Sella chirps. She loops an arm through yours before you can protest and squints at the horizon. “Is that your hometown over there?”

A hazy line of blue and white roofs is barely distinguishable in the fading light of day. Sella has better vision than you. You’re sure she can see the masts of ships in port, the green and yellow flag waving over the chief’s house, maybe even the orchard that creeps right up to the edge of the bluffs.

You can’t wait to see it yourself.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been smiling, but your face hurts by the time you find your voice. “Yes. Yes, it is.”

----------.

Mom hurls a loaf of bread at your head when you walk through the front door, Kent and Sella in tow.

Kent catches it an inch from your face. “Whoa, whoa!” He waves the bread as if unsure whether he should drop it or throw it back. “It’s your daughter! Mande! Put down the bread basket!”

“Mande and friends,” Sella says cheerfully. She waves at your Mom, Dad, and little brother. “Hello! I’m Sella.”

“I threw it because I know who it is,” your mom says. The grey streaks on either side of her temple are wider. Her round, kind face is pale with anger. “We thought you were dead.”

“We got your letters,” your dad says before you can ask. His hair hasn’t changed; he’s bald. He’s wearing his leather apron from the forge at the table. He takes a bite of soup. “All three of them.”

“Not nearly enough,” Mom snaps. Then, “And they could have been forgeries.”

“Who would forge a blacksmith’s letters home?” you ask in exasperation. Is that why she never replied? “Mom, please.”

“Don’t giveme that when you’ve been dead for seven months,” she says. She stands abruptly. “Three of you? Sit down. I don’t have enough soup, but bread will fill anyone’s stomach.”

“I’m Kent,” Kent blurts out before Sella can push him into a chair. He sits with a thud. “Sella, it’s rude to sit before introducing yourself!”

“Ruder than not knocking or coming for dinner without an invitation?” Sella hisses at him. She turns a charming smile on your little brother. “Sorry to intrude. You must be Axton. A pleasure to meet you.”

Axton doesn’t return her greetings. His eyes are fixed to the package strapped to your back. “Is that…?”

You swallow hard as your family’s eyes turn to you. You carefully pull the cloth-wrapped rod from your back. Your little brother isn’t so little anymore. You can see he’s taller than you as he stands in unison with Dad to clear a spot on the table. His long, thin hands make quick work of the ties.

There’s complete silence as the burlap falls away to reveal gleaming silver.

Axton’s throat bobs. He’s barely eighteen with the soft look of a fawn hovering around the edges of his jaw and cheekbones. Mom and Dad have done a good job feeding him while you’ve been gone. Seven months ago your brother looked like a wraith, all the light taken from him as if it all came from his hero’s sword.

“You’re going to make me a sword,” Axton says at last.

You’ve thought about this moment for seven months. You imagined you would say something like it’s okay now or maybe big sister fixed it. When his hero’s sword was taken from him, you thought about all sorts of things. It took a month for you to set out on this quest rather than one of revenge. It wouldn’t have helped Axton if you’d forged a hundred weapons of war to punish those who’d hurt him. It wouldn’t help Axton to pretend you fixed anything.

So instead you tell the truth.

“It won’t be the same,” you say. “It won’t work the way you want it to. Not right away. You’ll need to train with it and learn it as you would any other weapon. Your instincts won’t help you. But…it won’t break when I’m done. It won’t bend or chip. It won’t melt. It will serve you, Axton, until the exact moment you don’t need it anymore.”

Axton flies around the table to throw his arms around you. It’s amazing you came from the same parents. Where you are short and stocky, he’s really like a deer. His long arms could encircle you twice as he lifts you with a hero’s strength. “Thank you, thank you, thank you—”

And then you’re being hugged all around. Your dad’s strong, Blacksmith arms are crushing you to your brother, your mother’s soft cheek is against your shoulder, and there’s plate mail digging into your spleen while a sharp elbow digs into your spine.

You manage to turn your head just enough to see Kent hugging your from behind and Sella hugging him from behind. It’s her elbow that’s jabbing you.

“This is sweet,” she says. Her voice is a little muffled from how her face is pressed against Kent’s back. “We should hug more.”

“Does this make your brother a Hero?” Kent asks.

“This is a family hug,” you say.

“Duh,” Sella says. “That’s why we joined.”

You really can’t argue with that.

-

(Patreon)

Next week's story: Everyone in LA has two job. You've got a big smile and a talent for seeing ghosts. It's no surprise what your jobs are.

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[earlysunshines]

lights, camera, action!

danielle marsh x actress!reader ; fluff

synopsis: you passed your media training classes but that doesn’t stop you after a couple of drinks from leaking that you’re very much attracted to danielle marsh on live

warnings: alcohol ; soobin from txt but he's actually an actor (idk why i use him in my fics sm) and also other idols that are actors instead of... idols ; discovering sexuality ; reader is whipped for danielle ; danielle is whipped for reader ; gay gay gay they're so in love i hate myself ; anyhting else not mentioned ; not proofread

a/n: hi i need her so bad like sooo bad like she’s so. like. like hey. hi hai. hi.

@/ynln is live!

the viewers catch a little glimpse of your flushed cheeks, slow blinks, and lazy smile.

you’re not drunk, not at all, you’re just naturally an idiot and even more of one after a few after-party drinks. the remnants of laughter and lively conversation from the after-party of your premiere still lingering in your ears. the giddiness hadn’t left your body at all.

“heyyy guys.” you fail to set up the camera on your hotel desk, so you resort to flopping onto the bed and holding it yourself. “i hope you all are well.”

the screen was filled with comments almost immediately—fans were sending love, compliments, and congratulating you on the new movie, and praising your looks during the premiere. your smile grew wider, your cheeks burned a little warmer than before.

@/lnloverrr: you looked so good at the event

@/yourstruly84: a look for the books

@/ynloops: so excited for the movie! can’t wait to see more action roles from you!

@/tokkilvrr: celine queen!!! you rocked the top

“aww you guys are so cute,” you say, a little more giggly than usual. the only thing illuminating you at the moment is the city glow filtering through the curtains, so you turn on a lamp in order for your fans to see you better. “i’m so happy you guys are excited about the movie. it means a looot, really.”

you scrolled through the comments, answering a few questions about your favorite scenes to shoot and what the cast was like. you went on a whole ramble about your male co-star soobin and how you almost beat him in an arm wrestling battle after two shots, which led to another ramble about how rigorous the process of working out to achieve your physique was for this film. it was fun talking about all the fun behind-the-scenes moments, one of them being how you have a video of soobin tripping over the props, one which you will definitely be posting once the movie is out.

after skimming the comments a bit more, most of them being “can i get an i love you?” or various compliments which keep a smile plastered on your face. but then one catches your eye, making you raise a brow: do you have a celebrity crush?

“oh, a celebrity crush? well i don’t know if i have a crush, but more of a friend crush if you get what i mean.” you laughed, the sound light and loose. you pause, thinking it over as more comments pop up with heart emojis and people begging for an answer. you sigh playfully, leaning against the bedframe and blinking slowly again. “okay, this is going to sound so cheesy. you know how i like newjeans? i’ve mentioned it before… but i’ve been such a fan of newjeans since their debut. like, seriously, their music is always on repeat. i’ve made soobin and the rest of the cast listen to them — soyeon loves them actually. ugh i loved their debut ep so much and then they dropped ditto and–”

@/koalaln: okay so… it’s someone from newjeans?

@/minjiplsmarrymepls: not my fav actor being a tokki

@/phammipham: girl if you don’t tell us rn…

“oh yeah, celebrity crush, right.” you chuckle after reading the comments again. you bit your lip before continuing, “well, aside from newjeans being one of my favorite groups… they’re all talented and beautiful, of course, but oh my god. danielle?”

your voice dropped to a more earnest tone as you looked right at the camera again, shaking your head and blushing a little. you could blame it on the alcohol.

“danielle is probably one of the prettiest people i’ve ever seen. her visuals are like, insane. like, she has this elegance to her, she’s glowing, but she’s also just really cute. i’ve seen some of their interviews and she’s so bright and bubbly and i just think she’s so adorable and— yeah. i love her energy.” you let out a small, tipsy laugh, not realizing how much you were rambling—again.

“and the thing is, we’re both ambassadors for celine too, so i’ve seen her from afar at events and stuff. i’ve never actually met her, which is crazy, right? i mean i've met park bogum but not her! you’d think we would have bumped into each other by now, but nope. i kind of just admire from afar, like her pictures don’t do her justice but they… do? she’s stunning in person, at least from afar.”

the comments started blowing up with people freaking out, sending a variety of emojis that you couldn’t even count on both hands. they were saying things like “omg you’re totally fangirling right now,” “okay purr y/n is danielle biased she has taste,” and even “you and danielle interacting or collaborating would be iconic.”

you blinked at the screen, noticing the way the chat kept mentioning her name. you rubbed your face with your hand, blinking hard again. “oh my god, am i talking too much? anyway!” you waved your hand, laughing as you tried to shake off the embarrassment creeping up your neck. “next question, next question.”

you spent a few more minutes answering questions about your movie, sharing more stories of what happens on set (making sure to include how many times jaehyun fell asleep on set — which was far too often and in the most questionable positions. you wonder how someone falls asleep leaning against a wall). by the end, your eyelids were starting to droop, and the comments were still buzzing with your confession from earlier. you blinked again, then thanked the fans for their support once more to wrap up the livesteam.

“alright, i’m about to pass out,” you say tiredly, smile turning soft. “thank you for putting up with me. love you all so much.”

the phone in your hand dropped onto the bed after ending the livestream. your head lands on the pillows and you sigh, a grin still on your face. before you knew it, you were out like a light, blissfully unaware of what you’ve just started.

—

the sun filtered through the hotel curtains, which warmed up the room. you stirred, eyes fluttering open as a ray hit you right in the eye, making you roll around the other way. 

unfortunately for you, this wasn’t the only thing trying to wake you up. your phone buzzed insistently next to you, and you reached for it blindly, squinting at the screen as your manager’s name flashed across it. you crinkled your brows, confused to say the least.

“hello? mark?” your voice was hoarse with sleep, tinged with last nights events.

“morning sleepyhead,” mark’s voice was calm and a little playful as always, but there was an unmistakable edge that meant business. “do you want to tell me why you’re trending on every social media platform? and you even made it onto some entertainment sites.”

a groan slips from you as you sit up all too quickly. the memories of your late-night live stream start to flood back. “shit.”

“‘shit’ is right. you do know that gushing about a girl in a kpop group — not to mention a very popular one — might get you a good amount of attention? and don’t make a pun.” you hear his signature sigh from the other end of the line. “your fans and her fans are going wild, and some press outlets are running with ‘actor y/n’s crush on danielle from newjeans’ headlines.”

shifting yourself to the edge of your bed so your feet can dangle off, you groan into the phone. “i’m so, so sorry. i must’ve fucked up my image like crazy, god i’m so sorry for—”

“hey, wait.” he says calmly. “it’s actually not doing anything harmful. if anything people are into how much you admire the group, considering you’re quite the celebrity.”

“oh thank god–”

“it’s just not low-profile.”

heat crept up your neck, and you covered your face with one hand, your back meeting the mattress again. “i— yeah, i was tipsy. soobin is a terrible influence, and weren’t you—”

“i’m just your manager, i just work here y/n.”

you scoff playfully at his remark, then continue, “i guess i didn’t notice how much i talked about her. but it’s not—i mean, it’s not untrue, but still…” you trailed off, cringing at yourself as you placed a hand over your eyes.

mark lets out a sigh, softening a bit. “look, it’s not the end of the world. just be prepared for questions, and try not to fan the flames further if you don’t want this to become a bigger deal. but, you might want at least to have a statement or some kind of response ready.”

you nodded, even if he couldn’t see you. “yeah, okay. thank you for the heads-up. sorry.”

“and next time, maybe don’t go live after an after-party. don’t think i didn’t see you downing somaek with jennie.” he adds, the hint of amusement in his voice making you relax a bit. 

“noted. very much noted.”

after ending the call, you drop the phone beside you, your heart still thudding. with a deep breath, you opened twitter up, and just from your burner account you could see that you were trending. the timeline was overflowing: fans reacting to your confession, edits already circulating with your quotes—they even managed to find every clip of you mentioning or listening to newjeans, putting it in slideshows and edited videos. you can’t even lie, the effort is amazing. and even worse, or better? there were articles with headlines like “actor y/n admits to crushing on danielle from newjeans” and “actor y/n confirms she’s a hardcore newjeans fan.”

okay, hardcore might be a stretch.

(or maybe not.)

despite all this chaos, you couldn’t help but smile a little. you tap a quick text to your manager again: sorry again. i’ll be ready for whatever comes. 

and another, more impulsive, and raw message to your group chat with your best friends and  co-stars: i think i should just die. never going live again. someone needs to take my phone and burn it.

but as you scrolled and saw fans posting supportive, teasing comments like “we love an honest crush!” “y/n is lowk so cute for this” “it’s so refreshing to see celebrities being transparent about who they admire” and even a “y/n and danielle when??? y/nelle??”, you couldn’t suppress the slight flutter in your chest.

—

in contrast to your morning, danielle’s wasn’t all that stressful. maybe a little, but it didn’t have her laying in bed for an hour and pondering over every life decision she’s made. not like you did. 

danielle had been making eggs for her members — sunny side up for hanni, boiled for minji, and scrambled for the haerin and hyein — humming quietly to herself. the morning was relatively peaceful until hanni burst into the kitchen, phone in her hand with a mischievous grin on her face.

“dani, you won’t believe this.” hanni plops down on a stool at the kitchen island, turning the phone over. “you’re gonna want to see it.”

danielle raises an eyebrow, turning down the heat. “what is it?”

minji and haerin joined, peeking over hanni’s shoulder as she played the video clip. “y/n, you know, the one from that one coming of age movie you like? what was it… the one with— it doesn’t even matter. just look.”

danielle’s brows furrowed with confusion until hanni hits play. the room fills with the sound of your slurred, soft voice as you gush with genuine excitement. 

“oh yeah, celebrity crush, right. well, aside from newjeans being one of my favorite groups… they’re all talented and beautiful, of course, but oh my god. danielle?”

even minji and haerin gasp, looking at danielle in surprise. danielle’s jaw drops open slightly as she takes in the information: you, l/n y/n, are mentioning her. danielle marsh. but it gets even better.

“danielle is probably one of the prettiest people i’ve ever seen. her visuals are like, insane. like, she has this elegance to her, she’s glowing, but she’s also just really cute. i’ve seen some of their interviews and she’s so bright and bubbly and i just think she’s so adorable and— yeah. i love her energy.” 

the spoon danielle had been holding slips from her hand and onto the counter, clattering agains the marble as she stared at the screen. “wait— what?” her voice was barely above a whisper, her cheeks heating up.

 “look at you,” minji laughs, nudging her. “one of your admirers is an actor—a really popular actor, dani.”

“i—” danielle’s mind raced as she watched you on the screen, your eyes bright, cheeks flushed as you rambled on. the admiration in your tone made her heart skip a beat. it was one thing to know that you were at the same events as her, and another ot hear that you’d been paying attention to her. that you think she’s pretty. 

hyein seemed to pop out of nowhere, her arrival probably unnoticed from what was currently unfolding. “dani… someone who was in a marvel movie has a crush on you.”

danielle blinked. a smile broke out as she looked at her members. “you’re all ridiculous.” but even as she laughed, the warmth in her chest lingered. the fact that you, the actress she’d admired form afar and whose movies she’s watched with her family, thought of her like that—it was surreal.

minji raised an eyebrow knowingly. “come on dani, don’t act like you haven’t been wanting to talk to her at those events.”

“yeah dude,” hanni nudged her younger member. “she popped up in doctor strange and you started rambling about her.”

danielle’s smile turned shy as she rolled her eyes and turned back to the stove, her mind still replaying your words. 

maybe she’d muster up the courage to talk to you, just maybe.

—

you’ve been busy, to say the least.

the past week you’ve been interviewed a handful of times everyday. your movie starred the choi soobin and jeong jaehyun, which earned a lot of attention. what surprised you was just how much attention you’d receive. there were various edits of you being made, some even showed up on your social media and unfortunately your group chat. 

people had dug up scenes of you from your other projects, editing them and helping them resurface. it was safe to say you were growing as an actor, as if confessing your ‘love’ for danielle marsh didn’t already do enough. but who were you to complain? this was great. you were rising in popularity for not only your looks, but also your talents and personality. it was endearing — flattering you beyond comprehension.

the rise in popularity even led to you having to hop on a flight to japan, not only to be interviewed further, but also for an event for the brand you ambassador.

the celine event had an air of sophistication and elegance. it was a sort of luxurious haven where celebrities and models mingled under the crystal chandeliers, surrounded by other “fancy stuff” as you would say. soft music played, mixing in with the sound of conversations and clicks of cameras. attendees were showcasing the brand’s newest pieces for the season, with handbags being paraded, their metallic accents catching the light.

you fit quite well into the scene, it would be a lie to say you weren’t one of the main events. there was an effortless style exuded from you, clad in tailored slacks that were held perfectly by a leather celine belt. draped over your frame was a crewneck sweater with the brand’s logo, and to finish off the look you had another leather piece on your shoulder: a matching handbag to go with your belt. 

the first hour was spent smiling for the cameras and eavesdropping on the whispers about your recent rise in popularity. more cameras flashed, and journalists angled for a glimpse, but your focus soon shifted when an all too familiar figure stepped into view. maybe you’re overwhelmed, maybe it’s not her, there so many people here. at least that’s what you told yourself.

once you got a breather, taking the time to roam around the area, you barely had a moment to process before a gentle bump jolted you out of your thoughts.

a woman, draped in a stunning beige dress accented with a sleek grey blazer, stumbled slightly. instinct kicked in, and your hand shot out to catch her arm, steadying her. wide yes met yours, surprise softening into a shy, grateful smile as she regained her balance.

“oh my, i’m so sorry!” she breaths out, her cheeks tinting a faint pink. “i didn’t see you there.”

“are you okay?” you ask, your mind catching up to the moment. your gaze lingered as recognition fell over you 

danielle.

the feel of her arm in your grasp made your heart stutter, but you forced yourself to stay composed. 

“yes, i’m fine, thanks,” danielle says, straightening up and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “i never expected to bump into you. not like this—not literally.”

your smile turns sheepish. “i— i guess i made quite an impression,” you joke lightly, withdrawing your hand slowly.

her eyes light up with recogniition. “well, the live from last week was more of one,” she teases, her tone warm and playful. the mention of the live made your face heat up, and a laugh bubbled out as you glanced at the floor for a second.

“you saw…?” you ask, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“i think everyone did,” she giggled, her smile softening as she added, “it was... really sweet.”

the initial nervousness faded as the two of you fell into conversation, friendly and hesitant at first, but your words quickly became more confident as you both exchanged stories and thoughts on the celine events. compliments flowed naturally, and you found yourself surprised at how easy it was to talk to her beyond the admiration you held at a distance. danielle, on the other hand, grew noticeably more flustered as you threw in subtle flirtations—quick grins, playful remarks about how she looked so much better up close and in person.

“wow, it wasn’t the drinks that make you so… charming, huh?” she says with a small laugh, eyes shining as she tried to regain composure.

“well, i’m finally getting the chance to talk to someone i’ve been wanting to meet for a whike,” you admitted, voice soft and genuine. “i just wanted to be transparent, is that alright with you?”

“of course.” her smile turns bashful, and for a moment, silence settled between you two, comfy and warm. the lights dimmed as the models prepared for the runway, but neither of you paid it much attention even after being separated again.

after the showcase, you two found each other again, wanting to exchange numbers. 

“this is the first time i’ve given a fan my number.” danielle admits jokingly as you type in your contact information. you look up from the phone and smirk, sending a weird shiver down danielle’s spine.

“really? i’m honored.” you say, handing the phone back. “let’s talk soon, okay? i’d really love to be friends, and i’m really sorry for the whole livestream incident by the way. sorry again.”

she laughs, smiling at you and it’s really strange how it makes you feel all tingly. 

“it’s alright y/n. would you like to hangout when we’re back in korea? if that’s alright.”

“oh, yes, of course.” you smile at her once more before looking at the text from your manager: ride’s here, you ready? the notification earns a small sigh from you. you glance back at danielle and bite your lip to prevent a frown. “well, i’ll see you.”

“wonderful.”

—

when you think you’ve had your peak of attention, it just seems to grow more and more.

the morning after the celine event your phone buzzed against the nightstand of your hotel, waking you up. squinting, you reached for it, the device cool against your fingers. notifications flooded your screen, but at this point that’s nothing new. at the top, there was a teasing text from mark:

“looks like you made quite the impression last night. maybe your live wasn’t so bad for your social life, huh?”

curiosity piqued, you scrolled through social media, your eyes widening as countless photos of the event filled your feed. comments from fans were overwhelmingly supportive, celebrating the unexpected dynamic between you and danielle. 

most of the photos were candid shots—the two of you caught in conversation, eyes bright with amusement, smiles soft and natural. the internet had already begun to label you as friends (which you didn’t mind at all), though some comments and posts weren’t so subtle as they implied something more, playfully shipping you two as a potential couple.

you rolled your eyes — it was ridiculous — you weren’t even sure whether or not she liked girls like that. even if she did, the whole livestream™ probably weirded her out. what you sought was friendship, but the ship posts did make you smile to yourself. maybe you’re just weird. you figured you needed to snap out of it.

unfortunately for you, more photos entertained the idea of something more than friends. in them, you were gently holding danielle’s wrist, steadying her as she’d momentarily lost her balance that night. the angle caught the way her expression softened as she looked at you, an unguarded moment that felt oddly intimate, almost cinematic. 

you’ve acted in various romance scenes, but none of them were real. neither did any of them look as… jaw-dropping as this.

the caption on one post read: “the way they look at each other… could this be the start of something?” the reactions were a mix of heart emojis, enthusiastic comments, and threads analyzing your body language and every nuance of the pictures. your cheeks warmed as you scrolled through, noticing how even the simplest gestures were being magnified and dissected as if this were an advanced art course.

you reread the text from your mark, smiling as you typed back a short light-hearted response:

“maybe i should go live more often? haha”

even as you set your phone down, your mind replayed the moments from the night before—her laugh, the way conversation flowed effortlessly, and that brief touch that started to flood your mind. 

you simply had a friend crush on her, nothing more, right? probably, you hope,

—

danielle pushes open the front door of the dorm, the familiar warmth and laughter of her members greeting her as she set down her bags. before she could make it further into the living room, hanni glanced up from her phone and smirked knowingly.

“look who’s back! how was the celine event?” hanni’s tone was casual, but her eyes glimmered with mischief.

danielle’s brows furrowed slightly, but before she could answer, hyein popped up from the couch, waving her phone in the air. “more importantly, how was this?” she tapped on the screen, and a slideshow of photo’s appeared—the ones that had been trending online. danielle, dressed up elgantly, smiling up at you as your hand was on her wrist, both your expressions open and genuine.

“oh, that…” danielle felt her cheeks warm. “it was nice. we talked a bit actually, y/n is really cool!”

“really cool?” minji echoes from the kitchen, “that’s a new one.”

“she’s just a new friend i made who happens to be an actor,” danielle rushed out, even as a small uncertain flutter stirred in her chest. the words felt like they were only said to cover something up, but danielle couldn’t pinpoint what it was that she was trying to hide. she’d made new friends before, but none of them left her thinking about them the whole flight back home. she felt kind of restless in a way, but maybe that’s because you had a different kind of charm and aspect to you.

“a new friend and actor who also has a celebrity crush on you?” minji asks.

“people have celebrity crushes and that doesn’t mean anything, minji. besides, i’m not much of a celebrity to her anymore, am i? i mean we’ve met properly now.”

hanni raises a brow at danielle’s comeback, exchanging a look with hyein, who giggles. “right, just an actor who has expressed her admiration for you in great depth. okay.” hanni draws out the last word, amused. danielle crosses her arms, feigning annoyance but feeling a heat creeping up her neck.

the group finally eases off, shrugging and returning to their own chatter, but danielle couldn’t shake the lingering awareness. maybe it was just the newness of it all, you’re an actor, a very famous one now at least. 

her eyes dart to the pictures on hyein’s phone again. the moment you had caught her from stumbling was simple, just an instinctive touch, but there was something about it that replayed in her mind. it was confusing—this new, unfamiliar feeling. she hadn’t considered herself someone who might fall for a girl, and there’s nothing wrong with girl’s liking… girls. but you’re not a girl that she likes, at least not romantically. you’re just really pretty and nice, and besides, she hasn’t even gotten to know you on a deeper level.

still, she’s spiralling a little.

–

y/n: hey :-) i just got back to my apartment it was nice bumping into you! let me know when you’re free? if you’d like to grab a bite or something of course you’re really pretty in person sorry, i’m fangirling haha

soobin’s top half of his face is on the top right corner of your phone as you stare at the screen. you sigh, cringing at each text you’ve sent. soobin raises a brow at the sudden change in expression, plus the small pout on your face now.

“what now?” he questions.

“am i doing too much? what if she blocks me. what if i just die—”

danielle: hi! i was watching a movie with the members hehe it was really nice meeting you! i’ve been a fan of your projects i really liked your scene in doctor strange as well and in your recent film  you’re a very good actor!

you literally drop your phone, earning a confused noise from soobin. when you pick it up again, he’s making a face that asks for more answers, but you’re too busy waiting for texts to pop up after her little typing bubble forms.

danielle: i’m booked tomorrow, how about the day after?  you can pick the time and place 😁

y/n: i’m busy tomorrow and the day after unfortunately 😞 how about in three days?

danielle: i’m free in the evening 👍

y/n: that’s perfect! can’t wait

danielle: me neither ☺️ i really enjoyed talking to you at the event

y/n: aw, thanks you’re really cute  and sweet, danielle

danielle: im blushing stop!! hahaha i’ll text you in the morning y/n 😊❤️

y/n: okay! 

soobin is still on call with you when you drop the phone on your bed again. he hears a the sound of your feet kicking against the bed and a small squeal.

“what?” he squints at the screen as you pick your phone up again.

“danielle and i are hanging out on friday.”

he looks surprised as he says, “really?”

“why do you sound so baffled… i can make friends soobin…” you huff, pouting at him.

—

you exhale deeply as you look at yourself in the mirror. there’s a green, long-sleeve comme des garcon top that you spent way too much money on hugging you just right, accentuating the build of your arms that you worked very hard for due to the new movie. custom-tailored denim fits your legs loosely, held by the same celine belt you wore at the thrilling event.

to hide your identity a bit more, you wore a beanie and a zip-up hoodie on top (another piece of clothing you spent way too much money on. you need to stop buying vintage exclusively), as well as some sunglasses.

you head out of your apartment, slip a mask on, and take the elevator down. 

it’s been a while since you’ve walked around and enjoyed the area you lived in, so you decided to walk to where you agreed to meet danielle: your favorite cafe.

it was a fifteen-minute walk, a quick five-minute bus ride, then five more minutes of walking until you reached your destination. when you get there, danielle is already sat at a table. you catch her checking her phone and smile to yourself.

“hey,” you greet, sitting in front of her. “did you wait long?”

“not at all,” she shakes her head, then looks down at her drink. “i just got a latte actually, i was going to text you earlier. ah! i should’ve waited to buy–”

“no– no, it’s fine.” you assure, grinning. “i’ll buy one myself and meet you back here, give me a minute.”

“right, of course.” 

you give her another small grin before ordering something simple: an almond latte. you waited only two minutes for it before heading back to danielle. after placing down your mug, danielle looks amazed at the tulip design, pulling out her phone and taking a picture. it’s cute, the gesture, and her—but that’s for you to keep to yourself.

you meet back with danielle, who’s in the same booth by the window. the cafe was quaint and tucked into a quiet street corner, so there wasn’t usually much attention or people. you really liked that aspect, considering your status, so it easily became your favorite spot. 

and because there wasn’t much going on, it was easy for danielle to be under some sort of spotlight—in this case it’s the autumn afternoon glow hitting her features. you remind yourself that this is just a platonic hangout, obviously. it’s not exactly a date, maybe a friend date—but the closer you got to her the more you started to question the “friendly meet-up.”

“this place is so cozy,” danielle says, glancing around as she took a sip of her latte. “thanks for suggesting it! i’ve been so cooped up and busy, haven’t had much time to go around. plus, it’s nice to be somewhere new.”

“i um, thought you would like it…” you reply, stirring your coffee absentmindedly. “i mean i like it a lot. it’s my go-to spot, a little hidden gem when i first got to korea. it’s also really quiet at this time, so no chance of anyone recognizing us.”

danielle smiled at that, her cheeks warming. “i can’t tell if that’s comforting or more nerve-warcking.”

“is that so?” you tease, “afraid you’ll be stuck with me if no one interrupts?”

she laughs, shaking her head. “not exactly… i actually really like being here with you.”

you grin—a bit bashfully. “aw, i’m glad im here with you too. i still can’t get over the fact that i’m with newjeans’ danielle.” 

she shakes her head, absentmindedly stirring her straw in her iced latte as she looks at you. " well, i hope that now… between us... i can just be danielle, even dani, if you prefer that.”

she gives you a shy smile before dropping her gaze to her coffee, and for a second you swear you saw a faint blush on her cheeks. maybe it’s the light. 

“so,” she says, changing the subject, “is your schedule hectic these days? with what i’ve seen—you know, your promotions—shooting for movies and events; i don’t know how you do it.”

“sometimes i don’t know either,” you chuckle, shrugging. “it’s worth it though. its kind of surreal—i used to watch your performances before i was this… known… and think, ‘wow, she must be busy,’ but now i get it.”

“”really?” danielle raises an eyebrow, looking genuinely intrigued.

“uh—yeah. not just you! i hope i don’t sound weird… you know i used to watch all those celebrity interviews, korean and western artists, and i thought about my future being like that. um, anyways, yeah—you and your members are super talented. i mean, obviously you’re killing it in every way possible” 

danielle’s smile grows upon seeing the visible blush and how evidently flustered you are.

you sig heavily, “i’m not beating the fangirl allegations… sorry.”

she looks at you with a softness in her eyes, giggling before sipping on her drink. you noticed her cheeks were definitely tinged pink now. 

“that’s… really sweet. and, um, mutual. i’ve been a fan of your acting for a while now, actually. so this is all still kinda unreal.” she admits.

you both fall into comfortable conversation, sharing stories about work and laughing about awkward encounters with fans and strange industry moments. you felt completely at ease, and danielle’s laughter was contagious, filling the air with something warm. the feeling lingered even as you two left the cafe together.

the walk back was leisurely, your voices blending as the city got louder.

“do you get nervous though?” danielle asks after a while, pulling her jacket tighter against the breeze of the evening. “with acting, i mean. especially with bigger roles. i hope it’s not awkward to ask but… you know, with romance films too.”

“i get that question a lot, it’s not weird at all dani.” you nod as danielle hides the growing smile after hearing her nickname slip from your lips. “i’m always nervous. but i think i’d worry more if i didn’t feel like that, you know? it kind of keeps me on my feet, makes it feel real.”

she nods in understanding. “that makes sense.”

“you get it.”

as you neared her dorm building, a sense of bittersweetness crept in. the evening had gone by too fast, and you weren’t quite ready for it to end. you stopped a few feet from the entrance, scanning the area to make sure no one was around.

“right, i guess we’re here,” you muttered under your breath, looking back at her with a nervous expression.

she gives you a forced smile, something bittersweet. “yeah.”

“i’ll let you go now, i had a lot of fun.”

“me too.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.” danielle breathes out, her smile much more shy than before now. you catch her biting the inside of her lip just barely 

her eyes sparkle a bit, the streetlight reflecting off her pupils. you gaze at her for a few seconds more before nodding. before you can start to walk away, she steps forward and wraps her arms around you in a warm, gentle hug. your breath catches, but you quickly relax and reciprocate. it seems natural, like you were meant to be this close.

“thank you for today,” she murmurs, voice barely audible.

“thank you for agreeing to hangout despite my… unorthodox impression.” you reply with a giggle, your voice just as soft. “i’m glad we did this.”

when she pulls back, you meet her gaze, faces just inches apart. she looks at your almost dazed expression, with your cheeks flushed and lips slightly parted. you quickly caught herself and laughed, trying to play it cool.

“alright, well, i guess i’ll see you soon?” you say, shifting a little on your feet.

“yes,” she says, feeling her heart pounding a bit. “i hope we can do this again.”

danielle is a touchy person, this is visible on camera and to everyone she loves. still, it surprises you when she leaps back onto you, hugging you once more before slipping inside the building. 

you waited until she was out of sight before turning away, unable to keep the grin off your face.

—

the next day, more specifically the next evening, you have an interview at six.

you, your costars soobin and jaehyun, are all caught in an interview. there’s a white backdrop behind you all, with makeup artists adding final touches and shifting your hair. soobin’s in a simple cardigan and jeans, while jaehyun is wearing a sweater that compliments what soobin is wearing. you, on the other hand, are clad in something that makes you stand out more: metal frames, a blazer, and slacks. 

the camera’s start to roll, then the director gives you the green light.

the interviewer smiled warmly, leaning forward as he kicked off with, “so, congratulations on the movie! it’s been getting amazing reviews, and your performance as a supporting lead has been a major highlight. how does it feel to finally see it out in the world?”

you smiled, shifting in your seat. “honestly, it’s surreal. we put so much work into this film, and seeing people connect with it—it’s the best feeling. i’m really grateful.”

“let’s talk about filming,” he continues, glancing between the three of you. “what were the hardest and most fun parts of being on set?”

soobin jumped in first, grinning. “hardest part? probably the weather during those outdoor scenes. we were freezing half the time.”

you nod in agreement. “oh, definitely. there was this one night shoot where we were all layered up between takes, but as soon as the cameras started rolling, we had to act like it was summer. my teeth were literally chattering.”

“and the most fun?” the interviewer asks, tilting his head.

“the cast,” you said immediately, glancing at soobin and jaehyun. “we had such a good time together, even during the long hours. there were so many inside jokes and random moments that just made everything easier. it really felt like a family. they’re idiots, but i love them to death.”

“jaehyun, what about you?” the interviewer asked.

he chuckles. “for me, it was watching these two try to improvise during that one diner scene. they were so into it, and the director was loving it, but the rest of us were just trying not to laugh.”

you groan playfully. “don’t remind me! that scene was so… chaotic.”

the interviewer laughs, clearly enjoying the dynamic between the three of you. “speaking of scenes, do you have a favorite?”

“hmm,” you say, thinking. “i really loved the quieter moments, like the scene where my character finally opens up to soobin’s. it was just... really emotional and rewarding to film. looking over it really surprised how well acted-out it was.”

“and you two had such great chemistry,” he adds, raising an eyebrow knowingly. “fans are already talking about it. do you think that dynamic came naturally?”

you and soobin exchanged a look, and he smirked. “well, you know, y/n and i are professionals.”

“oh, stop,” you push him lightly, rolling your eyes with a laugh. “soobin’s great to work with, though. he made it really easy.”

“is that why you’re so good at teasing her?” jaehyun chimed in, earning a laugh from the room.

the interviewer leaned forward, suddenly switching gears. “speaking of fans, y/n, people have been buzzing about your recent live stream. you mentioned being a fan of danielle from newjeans, right?”

you felt your cheeks warm, but you nod. “yeah, i’ve been a fan of their music since debut. they’re insanely talented.”

soobin, your wrost enemy, grins. “she left out the part where she called danielle one of the prettiest people she’s ever seen.”

“soobin!” you protest, laughing but clearly embarrassed. “he’s just jealous that i talk to her more than he talks to bebe rexha.” you retort, earning a pout from soobin.

“she’s not wrong,” jaehyun chimes with a teasing smile. “every time her name comes up, y/n turns into a total fangirl.”

“okay, that’s enough,” you said, trying to shut them down but laughing too hard to be serious. “look, danielle is really sweet. we’ve texted a bit, even met in person, and she’s just as nice as she seems.”

the interviewer didn’t miss a beat. “so, what’s it like talking to someone you’ve admired for so long?”

you hesitate for a moment, then smile. “it’s honestly been really cool. she’s interesting and kind and just... really easy to talk to. and yeah, she’s absolutely gorgeous, but that’s probably not news to anyone. she’s everything i ranted about in my infamous livestream…”

the room erupted in laughter, and soobin locked eyes with the camera. “did you hear that, danielle? she thinks you’re gorgeous.”

you buried your face in your hands, groaning. “why did i agree to this interview?”

the interviewer grinned, clearly loving every second. “well, it sounds like you’ve made a great new friend. and who knows? maybe we’ll see her at one of your premieres and not just the celine event someday.”

“maybe,” you said with a shy smile, trying to brush it off. but deep down, the thought made your heart race.

the cast laughs, and so do you. the interviewer continues on, teasing soobin about his bloopers and viral photos. you tease him even more, considering it karma for him doing the same to you. and when you think you can’t laugh anymore, they bring up jaehyun’s old films and roles, embarassing him just a bit as well.

—

the city lights blurred outside your taxi window as you leaned back, phone pressed to your ear. danielle’s soft laugh came through the line, making your stomach flip for reasons you didn’t want to admit.

danielle decided to call you after your interview. when you asked why, she simply responded with a ‘why? do i need a reason to want to talk to you?’ which only made your stomach twist more.

“so,” she began, voice playful, “you survived the interview, huh? did your costars expose your secrets?”

you groaned dramatically. “they did. they kept teasing me about… well, you.” 

“about me?” her tone was teasing, but you could hear the hint of curiousity hidden in it.

“they’re relentless dani,” you mutter, though the smile on your face was obvious in your voice. “next time, i’m dragging them into a live stream and making them go through public humiliation.”

she laughs again, light and airy. you lean against the window and smile harder. “you’re quite dramatic, y/n. maybe they jus like pointing out the obvious~”

“the obvious?” you ask, feigning innocence.

“you know, ho wmuch you like me,” she teased, her words carrying something playful.

“oh shut up,” you groan again, laughing despite yourself. “i’m never live streaming again. you’ve ruined me.”

“you’re the one who brought me up in the first place,” she counters, tone smug. “don’t blame me for how smitten you are.”

“smitten? right…” you shoot back. “someone’s confident.”

“only because you keep giving me reasons to,” she quipped, but there was a slight softness in her voice now, like the banter was more of a cover. 

you’re impossible,” you say, shaking your head, your your smile only widened. you bite your bottom lip, twirling your hair ever so slightly. “but you’re also probably exhausted. you should get some rest.”

“aren’t you exhausted from the interview? i only had practice—you’re telling me to rest?” she teases, though her tone had softened further.

“i’m serious,” you say, voice queter now. “sleep tight, danielle.”

there was a pause on the other end, not awkward but lingering. “you two,” she said eventually, her voice just as soft.

you both stayed on the line a moment longer, neither of you wanting to hang up. finall, you broke the silence. 

“goodnight.”

“goodnight,” she echoed before the call ended, “stay safe.”

leaning your head back, you sigh, letting the giddiness settle in your chest. as the taxi pulled closer to your place, you decided to send her a picture—your post interview outfit, slightly rumpled, hair a bit messy, and a tired peace sign held up for the camera.

a moment later, her response popped up:

danielle:  cute

your heart skipped, and then another text followed.

danielle:  goodnight :-)

you stared at your screen for a long moment, grinning like an idiot, before typing back a quick ‘night.’ you tucked your phone away, feeling like you could float the rest of the way home.

—

“morning?” you respond tiredly, leaning against your counter. “something up?”

he huffs, great. 

“morning? try good afternoon,” your manager’s voice came through, laced with exasperation. “we have a situation.”

you already dreaded whatever was coming next. “are you serious?”

“i don’t know how you do it.”

“what?”

“how have you managed to go viral again? you and soobin this time: dating rumors.” he says. 

“what?” you respond in disbelief, “me and— me and that bitc— me and soobin? there’s absolutely no way.”

“there are pictures from the interview yesterday going viral,” your manager explained. “people are assuming that you and soobin might have something going on.”

mark hears you make a disgusted noise through the phone. “why the hell would they think that?”

“apparently, you two were standing close, there’s one of you leaning on him, and another where you’re laughing while nudging him. they’re harmless, bit fans are running with it. despite your whole danielle thing, fans are running with this. boy and girl, girl and boy—you know the gist, things run around faster and easier.

you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “that’s so gross—he’s soobin. he’s like… a brother to me. and i’m a lesbian.”

“i know that, trust me. but the internet doesn’t,” mark says dryly. “just be careful. maybe you two can talk to each other, clear the air?”

“okay, okay. i’ll talk to you later.” you muttered before hanging up.

you check out social media for a bit, looking at the pictures going around and furrow your brows at how platonic they look. a girl can’t lean on her guy friend anymore? okay… right.

immediately, you pull up your contacts, scrolling to soobin’s name.

y/n: we have heterosexual allegations

not even a minute later, your phone buzzed with an incoming call. you answered, alreadying rolling your eyes. “soob.”

“we have straight allegations?” he questions, voice filed with disbelief, even despair. “god, no. absolutely not… not you, especially.”

“thanks,” you deadpanned.

“you’re welcome,” he quips, “but seriously, what do we do? should we post something?”

“definitely. let’s make this clear before is spirals. people are already clipping us from other interviews and our scenes.” you say, standing up right. “i’ll post something on my instagram: the pictures we took yesterday. i’ll caption it something normal and you can just reply normally. simple fix, right?”

“perfect,” soobin agrees. “you post it, and i’ll repost. we’ll just step on the fire.”

within minutes, you were typing out the caption, attaching a candid picture from the event of you two laughing together. once the post was live, you refreshed your feed, watching as likes and comments poured in. soobin reposted it immediately with a laughing emoji, and soon enough, the narrative started shifting.

you couldn’t help but smile in relief as you saw comments like: “okay, but their friendship is so cute,” and “best friends of the industry!”

you texted soobin one last time: crisis = over. lunch sometime this week?

his reply was instant: only if you’re paying.

—

danielle scrolled through her phone, her face buried in the pillow as she lay on her stomach. the soft glow of the screen illuminated the quiet room, the only sounds being her occasional sighs and the muffled hum of her members beyond her closed door. 

twitter was like a battlefield, one she didn’t fully understand. the pictures of you and soobin, paired with captions like “new favorite couple?” and “look at their chemistry!” made her chest feel heavy in a way she couldn’t explain.

you’re just friends, she thought to herself. why do i even care?

yet, despite trying to brush it off, her fingers kept scrolling. she stared at the photos for longer than she wanted to admit, her stomach twisting uncomfortably. why did it feel like this? you weren’t hers, you’re your own person.

you two have only gone out together once, spent time with each other maybe twice, and haven’t really indulged in anything deeper. if anything it felt right that you and soobin were a thing, considering the chemistry she noticed in interviews and whatnot. still, she frowned, thinking there was something different between the two of you. especially the way you noticed and looked at her like no one had before.

a knock on the door broke her from her spiraling thoughts. before she could answer, haerin poked her head in.

“danielle? are you okay? you haven’t come out all morning.”

danielle quickly locked her phone, shoving it under her pillow. “i’m fine,” she lied, her voice muffled against the pillow.

haerin frowned, stepping inside and sitting at the edge of the bed. “you don’t seem fine.” she gently tugged at danielle’s arm. “what’s going on?”

danielle groaned but didn’t resist when haerin pulled the pillow away. “it’s stupid,” she muttered.

“stupid or not, you’re clearly upset. tell me,” haerin pressed, her tone soft but firm.

danielle hesitated before finally mumbling, “i saw the rumors about y/n and soobin.”

haerin raised an eyebrow, confused. “okay? why does that bother you?”

“i don’t know!” danielle sat up abruptly, running a hand through her hair. “it shouldn’t. but seeing those pictures… it just… it made me feel weird. i don’t like it, ugh!”

haerin tilted her head, studying danielle carefully. “weird how?”

danielle hugged her knees to her chest, avoiding haerin’s gaze. “like... sad. but that doesn’t make sense, right? i mean, she can date whoever she wants.”

realization dawned on haerin’s face, and she leaned closer. “danielle... do you like y/n?”

danielle froze, her cheeks flushing. “what? no! i mean…” she trailed off, her heart racing. did she?

haerin waited patiently, her expression calm.

“i don’t know,” danielle admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “i’ve never felt like this before. and if i do… isn’t it weird? liking a girl? i’ve never done that before, i’ve never really liked anyone period… but if i did i figured it’d be a guy. i mean i kind of always noticed the female celebrities more and— oh my god, am i gay? i like girls… i think i’ve always liked girls. why am i realizing so late—”

haerin’s eyes softened. she reached out, placing a reassuring hand on danielle’s shoulder. “it’s not weird, danielle. it’s normal. liking someone—boy or girl—doesn’t make you any different. it just makes you human. it’s fine, it’s no big deal. like who you like.”

danielle looked at haerin, her eyes wide and uncertain. “but what if it’s not okay? what if i ruin things by feeling this way?”

haerin shook her head. “you’re not ruining anything. feelings can be scary, especially when they’re new. but you don’t have to figure everything out right now. take your time, okay? and no matter what, i’m here for you. i’ve been there, i think there are two others in the dorm that have been too.”

danielle nodded slowly, the weight in her chest lifting slightly. “thanks, haerin. i think… i just need some time to think.”

“of course, i understand,” haerin said with a small smile. “but for now, let’s get you out of bed. you’re not going to figure anything out by hiding under the covers. maybe you’ll think clearly after a bit of breakfast–brunch.”

danielle chuckled softly, letting haerin pull her to her feet. though her heart still felt heavy, haerin’s words gave her a small sense of comfort. maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

 —

“no way am i spending that much on something i’ll only wear once,” he said, putting a jacket back on the rack.

you two were in some pop-up store downtown, meandering through racks of high-end clothing. the smell of fresh leather and faint hints of something floral lingered in the air. music hummed in the air, some type of house playlist. 

“you could always expensive it as a ‘costume piece’ for another project.” you laugh, fingers brushing idly against the fabric of a blazer nearby.

“if only it worked like that,” he snorted, glancing at you. “speaking of work, when’s the next press event? aren’t we supposed to fly out soon? there’s too much on my plate… but it’s worse for jaehyun.”

“next week,” you replied absentmindedly, your attention more on your phone than the clothes. the screen buzzed in your hand, and you glanced down immediately, eyes scanning the notification. it wasn’t from danielle. you frowned slightly and slipped the phone back into your pocket.

“that’s the third time you’ve done that in five minutes,” soobin noted, a small grin on his lips. “let me guess—waiting for a certain someone to text? a certain singer~?”

your ears burned. “what? no. i’m just—i don’t know, checking stuff. my um,” you cough, “my mom…”

“checking stuff…” he repeated, his smirk growing. “you are not slick. it’s danielle, isn’t it? waiting for her?”

he laughs when you roll your eyes at him, then raises a brow when you don’t deny it.

“you’re so obvious.” he teases, nuding your shoulder. “it’s cute though. fangirl crush to… whatever this is—’text flirtation’?”

“oh my god, you don’t shut up do you?” you say, though the corner of your mouth twitches into a smile. before you could retort further, your phone buzzed again—when you check it this time, danielle’s name lit up on the screen. without hesitation, you step away and hold up a hand to soobin.

“hold that thought,” you say, walking a few feet away for some privacy.

“hey,” you greet, trying to keep your voice casual, though you couldn’t stop the slight hint of excitement.

“hi,” her voice is soft through the phone, and you could hear the faint sound of city traffic in the background. “are you busy?”

“no, not at all,” you assure her. “i’m shopping with soobin. what’s up?”

there was a brief pause on her end before she says, “i was wondering if you’d want to go on a walk tonight? it’s been a long day, and i though it’d be nice to… you know, just talk. ah! i hope you don’t mind… i just… missed you. i know we’ve hangout only a few times, but i really like your energy! oh god, i’m rambling aren’t i—”

“i’d love that.” you smile into the phone, balancing your weight on one foot then the other. “that’s perfect, yeah of course. don’t worry about rambling… don’t ever.”

“okay,” her tone lighter now. “well, i have a shoot. i’ll text you more details, okay?”

“perfect. i’ll see you.” you say, feeling a little giddy as you hang up. 

when you walked back over to soobin, he was leaning against a rack of coats, eyebrows raised knowingly. 

“someone looks happy,” he teases, “let me guess—date?”

“not a date,” you correct him, though the hear rising to your cheeks betrayed you. “just a walk, you know.”

“that’s gay.” he mutters, earning a shove. he smirks at you, then adds, “well whatever helps you sleep at night—even if that’s a ‘walk.’”

you shoved his shoulder again, but the smile lingered on your face. even as you tried to focus on the clothes in front of you, your thoughts were already elsewhere counting down the hours until tonight.

—

the riverside was serene, the water reflecting the city lights in the rippled patterns. the air was crisp but not biting, just how you like it. you spot danielle standing by the railing, her arms wrapped around herself as she gazed out over the water. her hair caught the light, framing her face in soft waves—her natural hair always left you in awe—and for a moment, you just stood there taking in the sight.

“hey,” you call, breaking her reverie.

she turned, her face lighting up with a warm smile. “you made it! hi.”

“of course. why would i miss it?” you say, stepping closer until you were side by side.

the two of you started walking, the rhythm of your steps syncing naturally. conversation came easily, as it always did with her. danielle talked about her schedule, how she’d been trying to find a balance between work and rest. you shared bits about your own projects, the highs and lows of the past week and even something you might audition for.

“it’s a lot sometimes,” she admits, glancing at you. “but i guess it’s just part of it, you know? the good things outweigh whatever is bad.”

you nod. “for sure. but it’s okay to feel overwhelmed too. you’re doing amazing, though. seriously.”

she looks down, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “thanks. that means a lot.”

as the conversation flowed further, the distance between the two of you shrank until your shoulders brushed with each step. the contact was subtle, but it was the only thing you could think about. you were hyper-aware of the space—or lack thereof—between you. danielle didn’t pull away, and neither did you.

a light breeze swept by, and you noticed her ears twitch. without thinking, you pulled your beanie off and held it out to her. 

“here,” you say, “it’s not much, but i think it’ll help.”

“oh, no, it’s okay,” she starts, but you were already placing it gently over her head, adjusting it so it fit snugly.

“looks good on you,” you admit, stepping back to admire her. “actually, you look better in it than i do. i might have to let you keep it.” 

she laughs softly, her cheeks pink from more than just the cold. “you’re just saying that.”

“i’m not,” you reply, voice light but sincere. “trust me.”

she looks at you for a moment, her eyes warm and searching before breaking into a smile. “thanks.”

you resumed walking, the easy conversation picking up again, but the air between you felt different now—warmer, closer. 

as the night wore on, the city seemed to fade away, which left the two of you. your steps were in rhythm and your hearts quietly beat at the same time, to another rhythm that neither of you wanted to name.

the sound of leaves rustling fills the spaces between your conversation as you and danielle continued to walk along the riverside. the path was lit by lampposts, casting a soft light that made everything seem dreamlike. danielle, however, seemed distracted, her steps just a fraction slower than before.

“soooo,” she begins, voice tentative. “i saw something earlier.” 

you turned your head to look at her, curious. “yeah? what was it?”

“pictures of you and soobin had been going around on twitter,” she says, glancing sideways at you. “people were… assuming things.”

it took you a second to realize what she meant, but when you did, you let out a short laugh. “oh, that. again?”

she nods. her expression remained the same as normal, but her hands fidgeted with the sleeves of her sweater. “yeah. you two seem close.”

“we’re realy close.” you say easily, not noticing the slight edge of hesitation in her tone. “but not like that. soobin’s like… my brother? maybe a favorite cousin. it’s very platonic.”

her eyes darted up to meet yours, flickering with something unreadable. “oh,” she says softly, her voice a little brighter. “i guess that makes sense.”

you tilt your head, catching the faint shift in her demeanor. “besides,” you added, a small smirk tugging at your lips, “i’m one hundred percent gay. women only.”

danielle’s steps faltered for a brief moment again, and you noticed the way her cheeks flushed under the streetlights. she recovered quickly though, and let out a small laugh. “oh. that’s good to know.”

“yeah,” you nod and shove your hands into your pockets. “soobin’s great, but absolutely not my type. not even close.” 

danielle chuckles, her gaze fixed ahead now. “when did you figure that out? you know, about being gay?”

you thought for a moment, the question catching you a little off guard but not unwelcome. “probably when i was in high school,” you admitted. “i mean, i always kind of knew, but it really hit me when i found myself completely zoning out over this one girl in my art class. she was kind of like you, pretty and nice and sweet and—” you stopped yourself, “yeah…”

danielle smiels, her curiosity evident now. “was it hard? like, coming to terms with it?”

“it had its moments,” you say honestly. “i was scared at first, like, what people would think or how my family would react. but once i told myself it was okay to just... be myself, it got easier. and i’ve been lucky—my friends and family have been super supportive. it’s normal anyway… being infatuated, finding girls attractive, and,” you look at her a little closer now, “having crushes on girls.”

danielle nods, her gaze lingering on you a beat too long before she looks away. there was something… softer in her expression now, a quiet kind of admiration mixed with something else. you noticed the shift but didn’t comment, not wanting to break the moment.

“that’s nice,” she says finally, her voice quieter than before. “i think it’s brave.”

you shrugged, trying to play it off, but the sincerity in her tone made your chest tighten. “just being honest, i guess.”

the conversation pauses, but the air between you felt warmer now, more intimate. danielle’s eyes flicker to you again, her expression thoughtful, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were walking closer—not just in steps, but in something unspoken between you two.

“why do you ask, anyway?” you question.

“ah, well—” she completely short circuits, trying to find the right words. “there’s, well, i think i um, i like someone. i don’t know, well, i do.”

you raise a brow, looking at her confusingly.

and then it hits.

she’s avoiding your gaze, fidgeting with her fingers, and the blush on her cheeks is apparent. it’s all apparent: she’s asking you about liking girls, calling you when she can, texting you, complimenting you—it all makes sense now, everything leading up to it. and you’ve been dropping hints too, but you never noticed hers.

“and what’s this girl like? is she nice?”

“ah– well, it’s— i don’t know. she’s really sweet, but anyway,” she tries to shift the conversation, but you butt in.

“i’ve been kind of into this girl actually.” you admit, kicking a rock on the ground nervously. 

“really?”

you hum.

“what is she like?” danielle asks, glancing at you shyly now.

“well,” you start, sucking in the courage to continue on. “she’s really pretty, and i managed to get closer with her in just two months. i always had a little friend crush on her, but even so i always thought she was gorgeous.”

“is that so?” danielle’s cheeks flush a bit as the realization starts to hit. “what else?”

“well, the more we got to know each other the more i found myself thinking of her late at night. she’s easy to talk to and i really like that about her. i’m pretty into her, and i think a lot of people know it despite how much i try to deny it.” you shrug, looking at the ground. “um, w-what is your girl like? the girl you like.”

there’s a smile on her face, one that would be impossible to wipe off.

“she’s… she’s really cute.” danielle says bashfully. “she’s kind, funny, caring, and i kind of grew to like everything about her. i can’t stop thinking about her and talking about her to my members, and when she posts or something about her goes viral i can’t help but go a little crazy. she accidentally revealed her crush on me to a lot of people and i couldn’t believe it, even now i’m unsure…”

“well i think she likes you a lot.”

“do you?”

“mhm.” you stop in your tracks, watching danielle take a few steps before stopping. you two stare at each other for a bit, struggling to maintain eye contact. “i think she’s been trying to ignore the fact that she’s in love with you, but can’t because you’re impossibly easy to fall in love with.”

danielle blushes, stepping closer and pushing your shoulder as she tries to compose herself.

“okay,” she mutters quietly, looking down at the ground. “do you think she could close her eyes?”

“maybe.” you nervously say as you close your eyes, huffing shakily. 

danielle stares at you, features a little tense—really all of you is tense—before leaning up a bit and pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek. 

she pulls away, blushing furiously. 

you open your eyes, blinking twice to make sure none of it is a dream. danielle stands in front of you, biting down on her teeth to try to keep herself from going insane. she looks away, scared and flustered all at the same time.

“do you think she… do you think she liked that?”

you nod, “yeah, but she thinks you missed.”

“what—”

you cut her off, tilting her chin up and pressing a quick peck to her lips. 

danielle gasps, then looks at you with widened eyes. seconds later she leans forward, meeting you in a longer kiss. 

she melts a bit, your bottom lip trapped between hers as she slides her hand over to your neck. and when she pulls away, she hides her face near your ear. 

“did she, did she think that was okay? i’ve never um, kissed a girl before—i haven’t kissed anyone before.”

“i think she wants to kiss you again.”

danielle laughs, pulling away and cupping one of your cheeks with her hand. it’s small and soft and warm all at the same time against your burning skin. you smile as she brushes her thumb over, nodding.

“i think i want to kiss her again too.”

[xoluvx]

this is what makes us girls; b.eilish

[▸] this is what makes us girls by lana del rey smut

It was obvious. It was obvious from the beginning you were destined to be best friends. When you walked through the door, your eyes locked with hers. Those tantalizing blue eyes; lids slightly hooded like she was disinterested in everything and everyone. Everyone...

Except you.

When she saw you, she sat a little taller. The pamphlet in her hand cascaded on the bed. The corners of her lips curled as her hand came up to give you a small wave. There was something about the way her eyes shone in the sparkling rays of sun that snuck in through the curtains... like a scene in a movie. Everything moved in slow motion.

Naturally, you dropped your bag to the floor. With your lips parted, you choked a small 'hey'.

Your new roommate.

And that's when the beginning of the end begun.

You quickly became partners in crime. You sat on her lap while doing her eyeliner. You picked out outfits and determined which were too slutty. You danced in the overwhelming heat of bodies that bumped into one another. You drank questionable red liquid out of red plastic cups. You held her jaw forcing her to chug. You ran and held hands giggling out of breath as the cops raided parties. You laughed and fell into each other so naturally. You whispered in the dead of night about crushes and girls that reeked of desperation.

You were inseparable.

Not only did she dance by your side at every party, she sat next to you at every house meeting. She slept in your bed, even though hers was only a few feet away. She rubbed your back until your eyelids fluttered closed. She caressed your face when she thought you were asleep. She looked at you like you were the only twinkling star in the sky because for her, you were. She'd felt it that first day she laid eyes on you.

It'd all been so easy. Uncomplicated. There was never a time in the day you weren't together. Never a time in the day you weren't touching. Her hand on your lower back, your hand on the nape of her neck. Whispering in each other's ears. Laughing at inside jokes.

Lips brushing tentatively one drunken night after stumbling into your room. You both stripped your clothes too tired to take off your makeup or shower. Nothing unusual. Except when you tripped and she held your waist, her fingers dug into your skin and your heart flipped. Trying to giggle past the feeling, the sparks were too powerful as you straightened yourself still numb from the alcohol. When you searched her face, your eyes spoke silently in agreement.

When she kissed you, it was like a million little stars sparkling on your tongue. She tasted sweet like candy. Tongues dyed red from the mysterious concoction of the night. They tussled messily as you hummed and cupped her face. Her fingers dug into your waist pushing you towards your bed; movements so natural. Bodies fitting perfectly as she hovered over you. Thigh nuzzled between your legs.

"Is this okay?" she whispered softly, her breath warm on your face as her hand ran down your thigh leaving a trail of fire. It led to the back of your knee where she stopped and waited for your approval. You nodded pulling her face down. She hooked her arm under your leg grinding on your body as you moaned in her mouth. You swayed your hips matching her movements haphazardly. Lips touching but not kissing; just longing to feel closer. Noses brushing and clashing as her moans mixed with yours.

The overwhelming friction between your bodies was suffocating. You choked on your saliva. Your eyelids fluttered from the tightness growing in your core as your clothed pussies rubbed and touched in ways you hadn't imagined. As hands roamed bodies and lips brushed intimately spilling your deepest darkest desires on her tongue each time you moaned her name.

The nights she spent in your bed held so much meaning for her. There was meaning in her caresses, in the snuggling and silent whispers in the dead of night. To the laughs and silly remarks.

"What a loser," she snorted snuggling into your duvet. You didn't laugh. You stared at the ceiling while holding your breath too scared to make a sound; to disrupt the natural order of things.

"Wait-" she raised her head, eyes searching for your face. It was dimly lit by the moonlight shining through the open curtains.

"You-" she cleared her throat looking at you questionably. You were still avoiding her gaze. You felt flushed and out of breath. How could you explain to her that you didn't think he was a loser? How did you tell her that you'd been secretly texting him? Unbeknownst to your best friend...your partner in crime. The person you slept next to every night as if it held no meaning.

"You like him?" There was a frightening softness to her voice as she sat up. Her previously pin straight hair was messy, eyeliner smeared. You'd both been too drunk to walk straight, let alone shower and get ready for bed. Without hesitation your clothes had been stripped and you'd slipped into bed like so many nights before. The scent of lingering alcohol and fading perfume mixed with the proximity of your bodies as you sighed and covered your face with your blanket.

You were too much of a coward to look at her. To see the hurt on her face and how hard she was trying to mask it. To flip things into a bad decision and not a life altering event.

"He doesn't deserve you, you know?" She muttered softly before aggressively pushing the covers off her body. The action stung and you flinched shutting your eyes under the blanket. The breeze coming through the window was harsh on your bare thighs. The silence deafening as she laid on her own bed. Bed that'd remained untouched for so many nights.

When you glanced in her direction, her back was facing you. The outline of her body prominent in the shadows of the moonlight. You inhaled, blinking away your tears as you turned to face the wall. Wall decorated with memories that were coming down like ashes on your shivering body.

The nights that followed were cold. She was cold.

You hardly saw her anymore. Her bed laid empty and not because she was in yours, but because she was never home. You were wondering if she'd been a figment of your imagination. If you'd made her up as some coping mechanism.

Except everyone noticed the shift too. Everyone noticed her absence. She arrived late to meetings and events. So much so one of your sisters told you they were considering probation if she didn't get her shit together. You harbored that thought nightly. She wouldn't be your roommate anymore and maybe that was for the best. You were tired of hoping she'd show up every night. Hoping you could catch a glimpse of her or recite the speech you rehearsed in your head every night you felt her absence.

So when you stumbled into your room right past midnight, and she hauntingly sat on her bed, your heart caught in your throat. All the air was knocked out of your lungs and it felt like you'd forgotten how to breath. The pain was so overwhelming you lashed out.

"What are you doing here?" you snarled through your tears. Mascara stained your cheeks in a cruel turn of events. The one night you weren't hoping for her return was the night she sat on her bed like the first day you met.

"This is my room?" she replied dryly only glancing at you momentarily. Enough to see you crumbling. She shifted her gaze back to the laptop, her face glowing in the fluorescent light. Bottom lip tucked under her teeth as she scrolled mindlessly.

"Fuck you," you sobbed struggling to breath as you turned your back to her. You pulled on your covers, screaming in frustation when it caught on your foot as you tried climbing into bed.

How dare she? How dare she talk to you like that when she abandoned you? No explanation. No chance for you to reason. Just one stupid night talking about one stupid boy had ruined everything. You hated to admit that she was right, but she was. He hadn't been worth it.

"He was an asshole, wasn't he?" she whispered biting on her thumb watching you curiously. You hyperventilated, gasping for air, feeling the words sink to the pit of your stomach because she was right. She'd been right.

He didn't deserve you, but maybe she did.

Turning, you watched her through your blurry vision. Shoulders slumped and defeated.

"You were right," you choked before sniffling and wiping your nose. The tears ugly again. Your chest felt tight, like you couldn't breathe. Your vision was hazy tracing her body as she closed her laptop and slid off the bed. When she reached yours, she lifted the covers and laid next to you engulfing you in a protective embrace as you broke down in her arms.

The familiar feeling washed over you; so warm and fuzzy. The memories of nights spent with her hands on your waist, brushing under your shirt crashed onto you like a tidal wave. Overwhelming and powerful. She held you with purpose unlike so many others. It all made sense. Why'd she'd shut you out. For her it wasn't just nights spent in your bed. It was so much more.

Your arms broke free of their entrapment, hands cupping her face. You batted your tear-clumped lashes as your eyes focused on her lips. So plump and inviting. They parted and you dove forward capturing them with yours. She groaned and gripped your waist tighter, pulling you closer as your fingers dug gently into her cheeks.

The kiss was desperate and messy. Tongues pressing together. Touching for the sake of touching. Hands roaming. Wanting to feel and memorize every intimate corner of your bodies. Her fingers curled around the bottom of your hoodie and you moaned lifting your arms allowing her to remove it. She peeled every layer of clothing until you were naked under her body.

You bared your body and soul on that bed. Offering it to her. Surrendering to your desires.

Your eyes followed her hands. They tugged at the bottom of her shirt, lifting it over her head. Breasts bare and breaking free. Skin so milky, glistening in the fairy lights. Her thumbs hooked in the waistband of her sweats as she pulled them off in a swift movement. Her naked frame danced in your irises as your chest filled with butterflies.

Swallowing, you reached out for her.

Your fingers locked as she nuzzled herself between your legs. She brought her body down. Skin touching. Eyes locked. Lips parted. Hearts on fire.

When she kissed you, you melted completely giving into her touch. She squeezed your hands and you lifted your hips wanting to feel her press down on your body. When she brushed your lips, your fingers unlocked and her hand slithered between your bodies. You hummed in delight when her finger ran between your folds.

"Billie," you whispered in her ear desperate for her touch. Desperate to be hers. Only hers.

Billie groaned and buried her head in your neck as her finger found your clit. The sweetest sounds fell from your lips and on her shoulder as your wet mouth pressed on her skin. Her finger rotated on your sensitive bud as you swayed your hips. Your legs shaking.

She wrapped her arm around your head. Fingers digging into your scalp as she kissed you like it was the last time. She filled you with passion as her finger slid inside your entrance. She muffled your moans with her mouth, swallowing them whole as she tore you open.

It was glorious and wonderful and sweet and hot and tight and it burned in all the right places. You clenched around her digits as you shut your eyes feeling the warmth spread throughout your body. You wrapped your legs around her waist lifting your hips to match her movements. She pulled you down on her hand, still holding your head. Her lips were so messy on your cheek as your whimpers fueled her desire.

You thought it couldn't get better than this, but then she kissed your lips and your neck and her tongue ran down your body leaving a trail of embers that led to your throbbing core. When her tongue ran between your folds you swore you saw the milky way flash behind your lids.

There was so much you wanted to say. So much you wanted to shout, but all that came out were cries and sobs and whimpers as you buried your hand in her hair. Her silky strands left small cuts in your fingers. Reminders of the night she marked you as her own.

Giving you a taste of real life.

[battymommastuff]

The Greatest Show

Batmom x Batman, Batmom x Batfamily

Prompt: While digging through the attic, Dick Grayson and Jason Todd uncover a secret about their adoptive mother. A secret that reveals the true, and dark story of the most loved couple in Gotham City

Part 1 Masterlist

(P/N): Performer Name

!!DISCLAIMER!! - This likely won't be comic accurate (Obviously), but I did draw inspiration from the comics. If you are looking for something accurate, then this fanfic isn't for you.

The rumbling from the red and white tent could be felt from outside. The cheers of the crowd as Haly's circus put on what they felt would be their best show yet. Everything from the elephants standing on their back legs to the clowns hitting each other with bowling pins. You were peeking from the little opening that led backstage. Many of your fellow performers were either stretching in preparation for their performance, or were relaxing after theirs. You were currently waiting alongside your two closest friends, John and Mary Grayson. The acrobatic duo who recently combined their act with yours. The stakes were higher, but it left the crowd in complete awe. You were one of the fire eaters. You were a younger member of the circus, but had quickly become a fan favorite. 

You were beautiful, and highly skilled at your art. Swallowing fire like water, and twirling torches around without burning you or anyone else. The skill you possessed was outstanding, and Haly never let you forget that. He took you in when you needed help the most, and he made you a star. You would forever be in debt to him. 

"Are you ready, (Y/N)?" Mary asked, resting a hand on your shoulder. You jumped then turned towards her. She and John had just finished their stretches and decided to check on you. From the moment you arrived, they took you under their wing. Teaching you the do's and don'ts of the circus as well as giving you a place to sleep so you didn't have to bunk with the others in their crowded space. Though you quickly earned a little tent of your own after your spike in popularity. 

"Yes, I'm alright..." You said, with a small smile, "But what about you? Should you be performing in your condition?" You asked while looking down at Mary's stomach. She was currently one month pregnant, and the entire circus doted over her. Everyone was so excited to have a new member of their family. Whoever this kid was going to be, you just knew you would love them unconditionally. Mary reassured you for the millionth time that she would be alright before she and John were ushered up a small ladder that led to the top of the tent. You, on the other hand, were standing by the curtain, waiting for Haly to announce you. 

"And now...our next performance needs no introduction...you know them...you love them! The Flying Graysons! Featuring our star Fire eater (P/N)!" 

As soon as you heard your name, you ran out. Instantly lighting your torch and twirling it around while taking a sip of alcohol. You spat the liquid at the flame causing it to poof into the air as soon as Mary did a flip in the air and caught John's arms. 

Nothing could ever satisfy that rush in your heart. The thrill of the crowd's reaction to your tricks. The high it gave you was better than any drug. Here you were, twirling two flaming torches in your hand as you watched above you. John and Mary Grayson were flying through the air. No one knew who to watch first. The couple who seemed to defy gravity, or the woman who could eat fire. Even with them in the air and you on the ground, everyone could see the chemistry you had. It's why your combined act never failed. With a big smile, you leaned back while lowering one of the torches towards your mouth. The crowd watched in awe as the fire went into your mouth. You popped your head back up with the extinguished torch in your hand. Tossing it to one of the helpers, you lifted your now free arm in the air while twirling the other torch in your hand. 

John, swooping down picked you up and you were now in the air. An act practiced hundred of times. His legs holding onto the trapeze as you both circled around the tent, the torch never falling from your hand. 

Your act was truly amazing, and it seemed to catch the eye of a certain crowd member. Bruce Wayne. Growing up, he loved to visit the circus with his parents. After their death, he avoided anything to do with it. Now he was back, but under different circumstances. For a while he'd been investigating the circus. He recently found old notes left by his father. The Court of Owls. A secret society of the Gotham elite. Their goal is to rid the city of crime, by any means. He wasn't surprised to know that his father had come in contact with them, but was surprised to see the theory that Haly's circus was a front. The members were training to be potential Talon members. The Court's lethal assassins. The circus always seemed to favor Gotham. Their stop here would last weeks while other stops would last days. Most of their members were young, and always seemed to vanish from the show after a while. He was here to find out the truth, and put a stop to it. At least he hoped he could. It was difficult to fight a conspiracy that his father barely had proof on. 

Despite his goal, he couldn't bring himself to move from his spot. You were gorgeous. He had a genuine smile on his face while watching your act. He's seen fire eaters before, but something about felt different. You didn't seem corrupt or up to no good. You looked as if you truly loved what you were doing. Maybe he could recruit you? Having inside knowledge would be beneficial. 

Your act went on, and you left the circle with loud cheers. Your heart was racing so fast, it felt like you were going to have a heart attack. John and Mary arrived shortly after with large smiles of their own, "You did amazing!" You squealed while hugging them both. You were new to the acrobatic world, but had the best teachers in the world. 

After the show ended and everyone turned in for the night, you were sitting outside of your tent. Your throat is slightly irritated from the alcohol, but nothing too bad. Luckily tomorrow was an off day for the circus. You could rest a little before practice. It was a peaceful night, and you were happy to relax in it. At least until a deep and intimidating voice nearly scared the skin off of you. 

"(Y/N) (L/N)? We need to talk."

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TAGLIST

@maxinehufflepuffprincess @tayswhp @rainycloud858 @luna-zendra-star @starlets-things @simpfourmarvel @kawaistrawberry21 @js-favnanadoongi @kodzukenmaaa

[with-my-calamitous-love]

WHAT IF I TOLD YOU NONE OF IT WAS ACCIDENTAL?

dazai x reader

the first night dazai saw you, he knew nothing would stop him.

for his birthday!

inspired by mastermind

osamu dazai, for all his life, had not felt the warm bliss of love. he did not have a mothers arms to lay in, or a fathers protection to shield him. he didn't have the privilege of a second family through friends, or even the comfort of loving himself. osamu dazai was not given love, not even for a moment, so he taught himself how to gain it. he was only cryptic and machiavellian because he cared, more than he wanted to admit.

so the moment he saw you, he felt a desire stronger than ever. you wouldn't require just a simple trick or a con- no, you deserved more. he laid out the groundwork, equations in his a mind a labyrinth of desperation only you could suffice.

osamu dazai wanted you.

and he knew how to get you.

honestly, who could blame him?

dazai was a master of people. he knows how to play people like puppets to get what he wants. none of it was accidental when it came to you. the coincidental run-ins at your favorite coffee shop that was at least a 30 minute cab ride for him. the times you conveniently forgot your umbrella when you swore you packed it, and dazai just happening to be passing by on your walk home. even the time you had just been dumped by your ex-boyfriend over the phone, and dazai just happened to show up at your doorstep just checking in.

maybe you should have noticed how fabricated it was at first. but you didn’t. dazai wanted you. and he made you want him.

dazai made you want every part of him. his silky hair his deep brown eyes, his honeyed voice and his suave way of walking. he made you want all of him, the good and the bad, his charm and his want for death, his desire to be good and the deep dark past of who he once was. dazai played love like a puppet show. whenever you laid on his chest, snuggled into his warmth, or when your lips were hopelessly pressed against his, dazai knew he had you. he knew he made you want him.

whether you find out or not isn't a concern to the brunette. you love him unconditionally anyway- you're his belladonna, his love, his everything. when he kisses you, the planets and stars align as if all of the pain in his life had led him here. the empty core in his heart aches at the thought of being eased, as if afraid of being happy. but your touch melts it away. you see that he is so touch starved, so deprived of love that he just had to assess the equation of you. he did this for as much for you as he did for him, knowing that he could live through even just one more day if it meant he could love you.

he needs your fingers to intertwine with his the way a chess player needs the queen. he needs your warmth like the largest gear needs the smallest gear in a machine. he needs your reassurance like the way water needs oxygen. because osamu dazai understands a lot of things well- chess, machinery, chemical compositions, and the way you love him. he knows its a need. he knows he needs your love not like his inner child wanted candy, he knows he needs your love the way the flower needs the sun.

his eyes stir awake, sunlight filtering through the curtains of your bedroom. his skin tickles, his cheek being peppered by your kisses. a smile tugs at his lips as he stretches his arms over his head and then around you, greeting you with a "good morning" in the deepest morning voice you have ever heard. dazai was usually light sleeper, but with you he could truly rest and escape into the sheets with you.

"happy birthday, 'samu." you hum, tracing your fingers down his abdomen. every contour of his bandaged yet muscled chest screamed at you to love him with everything in you. you would kiss every inch of him- starting from his hair to the very depths of his soul if you could.

"hm?" he quips, coffee eyes slightly widening.

you chuckle. "its june 19th."

"oh."

in all honesty, his birthday is the last thing on his mind, especially when you're in front of him. you are so, so, fucking beautiful he isn’t even sure you’re real. not just beautiful in your absolutely angelic complexion, but you're beautiful simply when you're you. when you're on top of him, the new sunlight on the earth dancing on your skin. lips bruised from the night's fleeting passion, hair messy and soul absolutely smothered in him. you drove him crazy, and he'd gladly lose his mind for you.

"thank you, bella." he hums, lazily draping an arm over you, as if there was anyway he could possibly pull you closer. dazai would find a way if it meant loving you harder. never, in a million years, did he think his partner would drag him out of bed and to the living room. he rubs his eyes, finding the agency standing in your apartment, an excited atsushi and a begrudging but willing kunikida, surrounding a cake for him. he never thought it would turn out like this, this good. he's stunned for a moment- a rare emotion for the young prodigy. was... this also apart of his plan?

maybe not. but as he kissed you and whispered a passionate "thank you" into your ear, he decides that this wasn't planned- it was luck. and he loved it. funny how sometimes you just find things.

[soldiersareyourprotectors]

Mike and Tim loved each other deeply. Mike, with his towering frame and muscular build, looked every bit the athlete. He was the star of the local rugby team, known for his strength and agility. Tim, on the other hand, was lean and wiry, with a sharp intellect and a quick wit that matched his keen eyes. They had been together for three years, and while their friends and family assumed the dynamics of their relationship, only they knew the truth.

In public, they played their roles well. Mike would wrap an arm protectively around Tim's shoulders, pulling him close as they navigated through life. Tim would lean into Mike, a small smile playing on his lips as if to say, "Yes, he's mine." They were the picture-perfect couple, and everyone admired them, envying their seemingly perfect chemistry.

What people didn't see was the subtle dance of power that took place behind closed doors. In their private sanctuary, Mike's broad shoulders and imposing stature meant nothing. As soon as they stepped into their apartment, the roles reversed.

One evening, after a particularly grueling rugby match, Mike trudged into their apartment, sweat glistening on his body. Tim was already home, sitting on the couch with a book in hand. He looked up as Mike entered, his eyes softening for a moment before a mischievous glint replaced the tenderness.

"Rough game?" Tim asked, closing his book and setting it aside.

Mike nodded, his muscles aching and his mind weary. "Yeah, they really put us through the wringer tonight."

Tim stood and walked over to Mike, his lean form moving with an effortless grace.

He reached up, cupping Mike's face in his hands and pulling him down for a deep, lingering kiss. When they broke apart, Tim's voice was low and commanding.

"Shower. Now."

Mike's eyes widened slightly, but he obeyed without question. He stripped off his clothes as he walked to the bathroom, the hot water a welcome relief against his tired muscles. As he stood under the spray, he felt the tension slowly ebb away, replaced by a different kind of anticipation. As the hot water cascaded over Mike's sore muscles, he found himself replaying Tim's firm command in his mind. Tonight felt different, special, as if Tim had planned something extraordinary. Stepping out of the shower, Mike wrapped a towel around his waist and made his way to the bedroom, feeling a flutter of anticipation.

Tim stood by the bed, his eyes dark and intense, an air of authority radiating from him. The room was dimly lit, creating a warm and intimate atmosphere. "Come here," Tim instructed, his voice steady and commanding.

Mike obeyed, crossing the room and standing before Tim, who reached out to gently untie the towel around Mike's waist, letting it fall to the floor. Tim's touch was electric, his fingers tracing patterns over Mike's chest and down his arms, sending shivers through his body.

Tim reached up, trailing his fingers lightly over Mike's chest, his touch sending shivers down Mike's spine. "You did well today," Tim murmured, his voice a seductive whisper. "But now, it's time to let go." Mike felt his knees weaken, sinking to the floor in submission. Tim guided him to the bed, his movements confident and deliberate, his control absolute.

For the rest of the night, Tim led Mike through an intricate dance of pleasure and obedience. Every touch, every whisper was calculated to drive Mike to the edge and back, each moment more intense than the last. Mike surrendered completely, reveling in the freedom that came with letting Tim take control.

As the night deepened, their connection grew stronger, the boundaries between them blurring until all that remained was the raw, unfiltered expression of their love and trust. When they finally collapsed into each other's arms, spent and satisfied, Mike drifted off to sleep with a deep sense of contentment.

The next morning, Mike awoke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains. He reached out, expecting to find Tim beside him, but the bed was empty.

Confused, Mike sat up, rubbing his eyes, and that's when he noticed something strange. His body felt different, smaller. He looked down and gasped. The body he saw wasn't his own; it was Tim's.

Heart pounding, Mike scrambled out of bed and rushed to the mirror. Staring back at him was Tim's reflection. He touched his face, his hands, unable to comprehend what had happened. Just then, the bedroom door opened, and in walked Tim-or rather, Mike's body with Tim's confident stride.

Tim, now in Mike's muscular form, grinned at the look of shock on Mike's face.

"Surprise," he said, his voice carrying a hint of triumph.

"What... how?" Mike stammered, struggling to find his voice.

Tim approached, his movements fluid and commanding. "I've been working on this for a while," he explained, flexing his new, powerful muscles. "I wanted to give us an experience neither of us would ever forget."

Mike's mind raced, a mix of disbelief and awe flooding his senses. "You... you swapped our bodies?"

Tim nodded, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "And now," he said, stepping closer,

"I'm going to show you what it's like to be on the receiving end."

Before Mike could react, Tim's strong hands were on him, pushing him back onto the bed. Tim's newfound strength and size made resistance futile. He pinned Mike down, his grip firm but not painful, his eyes burning with a dominant fire.

"Relax," Tim murmured, his voice deep and reassuring. "Let me take care of you."

Despite the surreal situation, Mike felt a familiar thrill coursing through him.

He trusted Tim implicitly, and the idea of experiencing this new dynamic was intoxicating. He nodded, surrendering once more, this time to the powerful form of the man he loved.

Mike lay back on the bed, still reeling from the intensity of the shock. Tim, now in Mike's powerful body, towered over him, his expression a blend of satisfaction and authority. "Relax," Tim said softly yet commandingly as he positioned himself. The sensation of Tim's strong hands gripping his hips made Mike shiver. It was surreal to see his own muscular arms and broad shoulders moving with Tim's confident precision.

With a firm, controlled push, Tim entered Mike, the initial shock quickly giving way to waves of intense pleasure. Tim's powerful body thrust into him, each movement precise and deliberate. Mike's smaller frame felt every inch, every movement, as Tim guided him through a symphony of pleasure.

Tim's dominance was complete. He used his newly acquired strength to pin Mike down, his thrusts growing more intense. Mike moaned, surrendering completely to the overwhelming sensation, his trust in Tim absolute. The experience was electrifying, a mix of raw power and deep intimacy that left them both breathless.

Every thrust sent waves of pleasure through Mike's body, his senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the moment. Tim's control was unyielding, his dominance absolute. He drove into Mike with a rhythm that spoke of both passion and mastery, each movement precise and powerful.

Finally, as they both neared the peak of their shared ecstasy, Tim's thrusts became more urgent, more forceful. Mike cried out, his body trembling with the force of his climax, matched by the powerful release from Tim. They collapsed together, a tangle of limbs and sweat, utterly spent and deeply satisfied.

For a few moments, they lay there in silence, their breathing gradually slowing.

Mike looked up at Tim, still in awe of the experience. "That was... unbelievable," he whispered.

Tim smiled down at him, his eyes softening. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said, brushing a stray lock of hair from Mike's forehead.

As they lay there, basking in the afterglow, Tim's expression grew more serious.

"There's something you need to know," he said quietly.

Mike's heart skipped a beat. "What is it?"

Tim took a deep breath. "The body swap... it's permanent."

Mike's eyes widened in shock. "Permanent?"

Tim nodded. "I don't have any regrets, Mike. This is how it's meant to be. You need to accept it. I wanted to give us something more than just a temporary experience.

I wanted us to truly become who we are inside. You've always been the strong, dominant one in public, but in private, you love to submit. And I've always been the one in control, no matter how we appeared to others. Now, our bodies match our true selves."

Mike struggled to process the enormity of what Tim had done. He looked down at his new, leaner form, then back up at Tim's muscular body. Despite the shock, he couldn't deny the rightness of it. This body felt more like him, just as Tim's new form suited him perfectly.

Tim's smile turned mischievous. "I can't wait to live life as you in public, being the hot local rugby player. Stepping into your gear for the matches is going to be amazing." He paused, eyeing Mike's new slender frame. "And you know what? You should become a cheerleader for us. With your now skinny frame, you'll fit right in."

Mike's mind whirled at the idea, but as he lay there, cradled in his-no, Tim’s-strong arms, a sense of acceptance began to wash over him. This was their new reality, and he trusted Tim completely.

Tim looked down at him, his eyes soft but firm. "From now on, we should call each other by our new names. You are Tim, and I am Mike. This is who we are now."

Mike—no, Tim-nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Alright, Mike," he said, testing the name on his tongue. "I trust you."

Tim— now the real Mike—leaned down, kissing him tenderly. "I know you do, Tim.

And I'm going to take care of you, just as you deserve."

The new Mike grinned, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "I love controlling your tall, muscular body in public, and I'll love it even more in private, with you being the smaller one now. It's going to be incredible."

[natalievoncatte]

Lena knew this was going to be a bad one. She was making dinner when she glanced up and saw that the Lakehawks game had been interrupted by a breaking news report. There was a fire on the south side hills, flames raking the side of the building as they reached hungrily for the sky, as if to consume the stars themselves.

Rushing to the balcony, she could see it, an angry red glow on the edge of the city. It was a bad place for a fire. It was out of control and the brush and vegetation nearby was dry; all of Southern California was under drought conditions and a fire watch. Everyone in the city would be glued to their televisions; a helicopter thumped overhead, sending a downblast over her as it thundered towards the fire.

Lena watched with her own eyes, briefly spotting the red and blue streak across the night sky. She couldn’t see the fire itself but she could imagine Kara slicing through the air at full speed, dousing or something the flames in some clever way. True to form, the glow died down quickly. Lena didn’t need to turn back to the tv to know the fire was was contained and would soon be out.

She waited patiently on the balcony, leaning over the railing and letting the crisp night air sweep through her hair. She looked up when she saw that familiar dash of red and blue slow and descend beside her, cape billowing out behind Kara as she landed.

Her face and hair and suit were streaked with soot and her eyes were downcast. Lena said nothing as she placed her hands on Kara’s big shoulders and led her inside. As soon as they were in, Lena closed the doors and pulled the curtains, then swiftly turned and undid the clasps that held Kara’s cape to her shoulders, sweeping it over the back of a chair. From the set of her back and the way her head hung, she knew at once that something as wrong.

She didn’t ask. Kara was never cruel to her, never snapped at her, but Lena had learned to read her and knew that she needed a little bit of silence to process after something happened.

A kind of ritual had been created between them. Lena parted the skintight suit to reveal the hidden zipper and pulled it down, exposing the honeyed skin of Kara’s broad back. She wore a crop top and boxers under the suit, and shimmied out of it, gathering it and the cape.

Kara turned to head towards the bedroom, and Lena caught her with a hand resting softly on her forearm.

“I wasn’t fast enough,” Kara whispered, as the tears began to fall.

Lena took the suit from her and the cape and laid them reverently across the chair.

“Don’t worry about me,” said Kara. “I’ll be fine.”

“You will be, but I’m going to worry all I want.”

Lena pressed into her and Kara wrapped her arms around her, nuzzling her nose into the crown of Lena’s head. Kryptonian super-senses. She was taking deep breaths of Lena’s pheromones and feeling the beat of her heart against her own chest. Kara smelled like sweat and burnt drywall, but Lena didn’t care.

“Eat your dinner. I’ll be okay.”

Lena let her go, but put away what she’d been making; the chicken could brine for up to a day anyway, and she wanted to share this meal for Kara. Lena wouldn’t admit that she enjoyed feeding Kara, whose body seemed so incapable of gaining any weight which was not muscle, but she knew she did. Not to mention the little thrill she got from introducing her to new tastes.

She had a protein shake instead, waiting for Kara to come out of the shower. Kara would wash her suit and cape herself, so Lena left it.

When she stepped into the bedroom, Kara had changed into a loose, threadbare t-shirt and was fluffing her hair with a towel. Eventually it would dry into flawless waves with loosely curled, salon perfect ends; apparently Kryptonians also had super styling amongst their repertoire of scientifically implausible abilities.

Kara flopped on her side on the bed, sighing.

Lena crawled aboard behind her and wrapped her arms around Kara, and Kara immediately sank back into her embrace with a soft sigh. The bed erased their height difference and Lena sheltered Kara with her body, tucking her head against her chest. After a while, she began slowly running her fingers through Kara’s damp hair, and her tuneless hum became a half-remembered lullaby her mother had sung as Kara let out a quiet sob and shuddered.

Sometimes, the biggest person needed to be small, and the strongest woman in the world needed someone to be stronger. Eventually, Kara told Lena what happened, yet another invisible scar she’d carry forever. Once again Lena bitterly thought that Kara didn’t deserve to live like this, bearing the guilt of two whole worlds on her shoulders.

But she did, so Lena would help her carry it.

[jenosjarofjam]

Now, you're stuck with me forever

Alpha jeno x Omega fem!reader

-Rivals/enemies to lovers

Requested ✔️ @no-romance-for-me-please

Word count: 2k+word.

Warning: smut,abo stuff, a lot I mean a lot of slick, squirting, knotting, cussing, biting/marking, mention of scent, nicknames(princess, good girl, etc...)

An note! This is like my first one shot and abo so hopefully this is not too bad🤞.(I took some prompts idea from Tumblr.)I didn't really dive deep into the rival/enemies part.

Playlist: collide-Justine Skye, Best lover-BiBi

You took the same class with Jeno, both of you were the top 10 students in the whole uni. You vividly remember the first year you met Jeno, Jeno always sat next to you, taunting you when he got higher grades. On the other hand, you studied extra hard because of it, surprisingly Jeno still got a higher grade than you. This went on for months, until the professor decided to pair both of you up for a huge project, now you have no choice but work with him. You guys started texting each other, deadline of the project was approaching, you agreed on letting Jeno into your place to help on the project, another led to another, now he crashes into your place whenever he wants

9:34 a.m

Jeno: Can I come over I’m bored……

Y/n : Since when did you started asking?

Jeno:I’m just trying to be nice rn, I’ll bring you food.

Y/n:awwwwwwwwww are you showing affection to me rn?

Jeno: I want to wrap my hands around your throat, and choke you until the life in your eyes die down.

Y/n: kinky ;)

Jeno: stfu, u freak

Jeno was sitting on the couch, finalising the project while you ate your food. The presence of him was distracting you , you seem to be confused about the reason… but hey no one’s complaining when there’s free food.

You noticed the sun peeking through the curtains, sun ray hitting Jeno’s face, highlighting his features. He’s skin glowed under the sun, his eyes shimmered hazel, his nose- “Hey! Are you even listening to me?Hello? Earth to Y/n?” A voice abrupted your thoughts, you realised you have been unconsciously starring at him, your face blushed in embarrassment about being caught. “Were you starring at me?” He cocked his eyebrow in disbelief, “no- no way why would I be starring at you! You’re.. ugly.” Well that was a lie….. “You’re avoiding eye contac with me? Why’s that?” He grins in enjoyment watching you suffer. “No. NO why would I do that.” “Maybe because you’re into me?” He said poking fun at you. “ wha-what no no no…” “well, you’re looking at me like you want to murder me but also like…you want me.” He smirked, seeing your widened eyes. "*cough* umm I'm gonna go uhh get some water." You said, as you quickly walked to the kitchen. You let out a sigh, feeling like you lost your breathe just the moment before. You felt... feverish, oddly... horny.

You went back talking with Jeno, it still doesn't help the fact that you're thinking about getting pounded by a particular person. The uncomfortable stickiness between your thighs was borderline painful, you tried to ease the pain by crossing your legs...it didn't work. You spaced out looking into Jeno's eyes. "Hey... You should take a rest, you seem tired today," "Yeah..um yeah sorry I'll uh go to my room and get some rest, call me when you need anything." You responded, feeling the awkward tension in the room rise up. Little did you know, your scent was flaring up like crazy, the mix of raspberry jam and cherry blossom was putting off Jeno, the sweet smell of slick was oozing out of your panties, making it awfully hard for Jeno to keep his instincts and not to fuck you senselessly. You scurried off to your room, feeling overwhelmed to the brim. You started researching about random heats, trying to find the reason the sudden neediness. You came across an article about spontaneous heats.

Spontaneous heats-Though rare, there is a phenomenon called Spontaneous Heat, which is when an Omega goes into heat outside of their cycle. The rare cases where it happens include meeting one's perfect match (at which point both heat and rut begin almost immediately)

No way Lee Jeno was destined to be your mate, but you can’t deny he is dreadfully hot, but you definitely didn’t stand a chance to be with him.

All these mix signals are just throwing you over the edge.In spite of that, all you should be worrying right now is about the fact that you’re craving the feeling of Jeno’s dick sliding in and out of you.

You had to find a way to relief the pain, ignoring the fact Jeno is probably outside your room playing video games, you slipped your hand under your panties, stimulating your clit. You bite down on your pillow, trying to muffle your moans.

Jeno was standing outside your room, the scent of a sweet aroma slipping through the door crack is driving him insane. The sound of muffled moans , made it obvious you were touching yourself. The thought of marking you, letting everyone know you’re his. The desire to breed you, filling up your pussy with his cum. How pretty you’ll look when he fucks you until you’re senseless . He feels his body burning, blood rushing to his cock, he couldn’t get you off his mind the entire day, he was just craving to fuck you all day long . Jeno couldn’t hold it anymore, he knew damn way he wanted you, all the pretending was driving him mad.

As you were approaching your high, you closed your eyes and focused on the climax. Yougot so lost in the pleasure, you didn’t even notice that someone was standing in front of your doorway.

"Always so needy for me, having fun without me huh?" You quickly cover yourself, your face burned up in embarrassment, you stared at Jeno and his very prominent erection, the size of his bulge was huge , the sheer thought of it already makes you mouth water, you wondered how it’ll feel in your hand,or even in your tight pussy. “What you looking at?” Jeno interrupts your line of thoughts, but it doesn’t make it better. He's low raspy voice sends chills down your spine. He slowly walks to your bed, kneeling down and staring into your doe-eyes, you quickly turned your head away from his stare, he quickly leans closer, closer to the point you feel his breathe against yours " I asked you y/n, what are you looking at?”. Jeno realises how stupid this is, and pulls away, before you pull him by the collar, his lips crashes into yours, the hunger you both crave for each other is finally getting satisfied, his hands naturally went around your waist as he pulls you closer, goosebumps swarming every part of your body. He pulls away "do you want me to stop?” he asked, trying to reassure you wanted this. You hurriedly answered, longing for more “just the opposite, please” He pushes you on to the bed, now you’re under him.

“Submit yourself,” he demanded, “jeno-” “What did you call me?” he abruptly shouted, making you jolt from the unexpected behaviour. “I’m sorry, al-alpha.” he slowly pulled down your flimsy shorts along with your pink panties, the cold hands made you squirm away from his touch. He quickly put his hands on your hips and pull you in, “Let me take care of you, let me make you feel good, let me make you mine,” he whispers into your ears before he forcefully lifts your head up, now you’re staring at him. He’s eyes filled with lust, the dark orbs felt like they were burning holes in yours. He takes off his shirt, his toned abs, arms bulging with veins, looks just like a wet dream in sight. He spreads your legs further apart, slotting his head between your legs. He started licking your hole, not letting a single drop of slick going to waste, before adding two fingers into your leaking hole, slick dripping to his chin, his nose bumping onto your clit adding the extra sensation, making you moan like crazy. “Fuck, you taste so sweet, taste like mine,”he mumbled, the sound of slurping echoes in your ear, your hand naturally find its way down to his head, you grip firmly on his hair, tugging it slightly letting him know your getting close to your climax. The high he brought you was like shockswaves crashing into you, you arch your back gripping harder onto his hair, you let a breathy gasp as you came all over his face.

“I’m not done with you, yet." His eyes darkened as you reached your hands towards him, freeing his cock out of his confinement, it spring out hitting his abdomen. It was huge, far from the ones you've taken before. He slowly lift your legs up, pushing the tip in you, the stretch was painfully good, you unconsciously clenched around him making him groan, your slick coating his dick making it easier for him to fit. He gave you time to adjust to his length then he slowly thrusted into you. “Fuck- take it like a good omega that you are.” The new feeling of adrenaline came rushing in, your eyes rolled back when he hit the spot that made you see stars. He lets out a low breathy grunt , your creamy velvety walls sucking him in deeper, the tight fit making you feel every inch of him, every single veins dragging in and out of your pussy. He started thrusting in a merciless rhythm, he grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, his tongue swirled against yours, the passionate kiss turned into a messy make-out session. His warm lips taking over you, pussy gushing over his dick. "Alpha, I'm close-" you choked out "please, fill me up please.", you feel like time slowed, each thrust felt so sensitive, so good, you feel your vision blurring, the knot in your stomach snapped, you let a long lewd moan as you cum on Jeno's dick. Jeno kept thrusting, ignoring your whines. "Hmm, too much?? Too much for my omega? You were begging for it, you were begging me to fill you up right?? Good girl's keep their promises baby." The sensitivity was too much, you feel your eyes tearing up, you kept clenching on his girth, forming a creamy white ring around the base of his cock.

Jeno used his strength and flip you around, his big hands holding onto your hips, “ass up princess.” You obeyed, feeling a sharp slap on your butt, he swify pushes back in with a one quick thrust. "Plea-se knot- in me al-pha, please, wanna be full of your pups." You pleaded, the thought of being by each other's side everyday, carrying his child, was the best fucking dream ever. "Fuck- You want me to knock you up- huh? Such a slut, such a slut for me. Fuck I'm cumming." He grunted. Jeno grabbed your hair pulling it aside, exposing your bare neck and collarbones, Jeno put his nose on your neck, inhaling your sweet aroma. "Can I mark you- princess, wanna make you mine-" He asked, waiting to get a permission to forever mark you his. "Mark me please, alpha mark me!" Jeno licked the side of your neck, and bit down on it, he licked the blood that was oozing out of the mark. You screamed in pain, but the idea of being his was enough for you to bare the pain. Jeno kept thrusting in you, you feel like your were about to pass out, a new feeling rushed in, not like your typical orgasm. Your now breathy moans echoed the room along with the slapping sound of the skin, you screamed in pleasure as you squirted all over his abs. "S-shit , that was so hot, I'm so close princess." He growled, liquid dripping down your thighs. His thrusts became more sloppy, the raspy low grunts was starting to become smoky moans. You feel his dick twitched in you. He held you closer, gripping onto you harder. With a final push, his knot inflamed, hot white cum covering your walls, you whimpered from the knot's pain. The feeling was way too addictive that you can barely feel the pain now. Jeno lays on you for a few seconds, you can feel his warm breathe against your neck. It took a few seconds for him to recover from his orgasm, he finally broke the silence

"How are you feeling?" He asked genuinely, "Tired and confused...I thought you never liked me..." "Idiot, why would I not like you." "No shit Sherlock, you acted like you hated my guts." You argued

"Well now you're stuck with me forever."

[hiddenlife-manager]

Heron x Fem Reader

cw… plot with smut, weird position called tango, clit rubbing, comfort sex, quick pace, long, creampie, angst, heron being a bit brash, kissing, love making, fucking from behind, etc...

notepad… Honestly yall recovering from wisdom teeth was awful. I had to get more pills to relieve the pain! ITS BEEN A WEEK AND IM ON MY KNEES CRYING! EITHER WAY THIS IS MORE PLOT THAN SMUT!

It was all off; you two finally could have the life both of you dreamed of. There would be no backlash whenever you were with him due to his reputation. It was supposed to be what you two desired; why then? Why is it that you are on a large kline alone in the middle of the night? The moment you sat up, your drapes slowly slipped off your shoulders. Winter was about to end, yet it was still chilly, especially up in Olympus. There was an open balcony right in front of the kline, so the air easily entered the chamber. The curtains around the kline were swaying with the chilly night breeze; it was obvious you were cold.

“Heron?” Soft—that was all you could really describe your voice as you called his name. You glanced around the dark chambers, but no one. Not a single soul. Heron was gone; he was still very injured from the battle against the giants. Your mind was filled with worried thoughts. Quickly, your legs scooched off the kline and you walked over to the balcony. The breeze hit you hard, and all your body could do was shiver from the temperature. Your eyes danced around the view. Olympus was nothing but breathtaking, despite the clear damage caused by the battle. No sight, though, could stop the worries. “Heron?”

There were no signs of him; he wasn’t on Olympus, and nothing you could see led your eyes to him. You did not stop looking around, glancing back and forth, focusing on the smallest of things your eyes could catch. Nothing, then, in a distance out in the battle field, lightning struck. You gasped, as there was no cloud in the sky before; it was a clear night. Your hands rose up, your fingertips slightly grazing your bottom lip. There, your eyes finally focused on a white horse with wings soaring through the sky and towards your chambers; on top of it was Heron. 

“Heron…” You let out shock; he was the one who caused the lightning strike; it was him all along. You leaned onto the balcony, your hands removing from your lips to hold onto the ledge. You tried to get a better look, but he was still so far from you until he finally reached the ledge and hopped off the horse. He looked down at you; he didn’t look happy to see you. “Heron, where have you been? I was worried.”

“Do not worry about it.” He said that and walked past you; he seemed tense, and you could tell he was on the battle field. His white chiton was ruined by dirt. You reached for his hand and gripped his wrist, your drapes slipping off once more. You shrugged your shoulders, attempting to fix the drapes on your shoulders. 

“Heron, do not lie to me. Talk to me.” Begging—you were begging; it was pathetic. In your head, you would never beg, but for him, you would beg him. You two were about to finally have the life you two dreamed of—the one you two would wish for under the stars back in the polis. 

“It is my business.” He pulled his hand away from you and glared. You froze from under his gaze; it was as if there was a sense of hatred behind them—was it for you or was it for something else?

“It is our business; you chose to love me. To have me for the rest of your life, talk to me.” His eyes suddenly turned from hatred to weakness. He raised his hands from his sides and placed them through his hair. He pulled at it and groaned. He began to pace and back forth, and there you could tell something was eating inside him. 

“The gods…” He paused and turned to you, grabbed at your shoulders, and looked down at you. “The gods use us; Seraphim was right. All they do is use us as pawns for their games; we are the ones who suffer. I killed Seraphim; he could have been saved. Do you understand that we were made from the start to be enemies? We were destined to do this. We are pawns.” He looked like he was distressed; he placed his forehead on yours and just sighed. “What am I for?” He found himself repeating those words over and over. 

“You are Heron. Not just a pawn; you can change it. We can leave. We do not need Olympus, nor the gods.” He raised his head from your forehead, his blue eyes staring down at you. He fixed your hair and nodded. “What happened to you and Seraphim should have never happened. Hera used him; Hera made him kill your mother.”

“We will leave after the funeral games. We will leave; I will not let them use us as pawns anymore.” It was like a change; he finally decided what he had to do. He could not be here any longer, and you could see it; the deaths of all his family members had just changed him. He wasn’t the same boy back in the polis. 

“Heron, we can do this.” There was silence—pure silence—no sounds other than the breeze rushing into the chambers, causing your body to once again shiver. His hands pulled you in closer, and he leaned down. What changed? It was because you were there for him more than anyone in his life. It was you; there was no one else. He finally pressed himself against you. The kiss was not full of lust; it was attentive and filled with his emotions. He desired a moment with you; he finally got it; he couldn’t lose you. You could feel his longing in his lips; he dared not pull away. 

“I cannot lose you.”

“Never, you could never lose me. I refuse to die.” He looked at you, his eyes resembling the beautiful blue of lightning. He pulled you down onto the beautiful wool rug, woven with perfection. The scene on the rug looked as if it were moving. He had you on top of him, and his hands shifted your drapes off of you. He moved you to his side; in front of him, he wanted you here on the floor, not the kline. 

“May I?” You nodded, and there his hands grazed your drapes and lifted them up. He gripped your soft thighs and raised your right leg to go over his own leg. Your back rested on his arm while that hand grabbed your breast. His lips kissed your neck. It was an intimate position; you two were intertwined to be one. His hands massaged at your breast, and your head was pushed back to the floor, giving him the best access to your neck. He used his free hand that was not under you to shift his cock out of his chiton. “We can finally have each other.” It was wrong; it was out of wedlock, but you two did not care. 

His hand that stroked at his cock shifted it to your pussy; he rubbed at your clit getting you wet and ready for him. This was not your first time; you two were young and in love. In the polis you two used the forest to just love each other. It was wrong, and if anyone found out, he would have been beaten or, worse, killed. His lips continued to stay attached to your neck, and the soft sounds of pleasure came from you. 

“I am sorry.” He whispered beside your ear and shoved himself slowly into you, your head raised in pleasure, then laid back down. His thrust was slow, but compared to anything, he was filled with love. He was filled with a desire to not lose you. He had lost so many, and you were not going to end up like the rest. Your life was all he needed to protect. His leg was in between your two legs while his cock went in and slightly went out, but not fully. He was always in you, no matter if he was thrusting in or out. 

You felt your body press against his chest and the rug; you two felt immense pleasure together. He was doing it to relish in your body; all he needed was you. His life had changed overnight, and you were the only constant. Many would have desired to feel each other's bodies on a kline you two only needed the floor. His strong, callused hands massaged at your breast, and his thighs burned each time he thrust up into your sopping wet hole. He treated your body like a temple, not daring to ruin it with his own touch. It was full of care; his lips were still attached to your neck, and when you moved your head to look at him,.

“Together till the end.” You gasped out, feeling him thrust back up your right leg, still over his leg that was between you, which allowed him to thrust into you comfortably. You raised a singular hand, grabbing at his neck, and pressed your lips once more into a deeper kiss. He suddenly felt himself tear up the moment your lips were moving against his. You realized it and began to wipe away his tears while he continued to thrust. He was a silent lover, one who rarely made sounds, but you knew whenever he was close, his cock was twitching inside you. “We will leave; we will no longer be used by them.” He nodded, and his hands on your breast shifted to your shoulder. He pulled you closer to him, thrusting into you a bit faster. “Yes… yes… yes…”

He relished in your moans; they were soft and lacked loudness. There was no lust; there was only comfort. He needed this more than anything. Your drapes were still so loose on your body that your top half was no longer on your body, while they were still on your lower half and moved to the side, allowing him full access to your chest. His cock began to twitch inside you, your moans becoming breathier with each thrust. 

“You are all I need.” Heron whispered into your ear, causing you to release the simple declaration of love. He may not have said he loved you, but in his words, it meant that. Your cunt clenched down onto his cock, and that was the feeling he loved. The feeling that was always able to pull out a grunt from him. “Let's rest here.” He muttered as your cunt continued to milk his cock. Your hand weakly wiped away the tears still present on his cheek. He had gone through so much, and you wanted to be there for him.

[babysisterallgrowdup]

I’d been busted. My daughter’s little bestie, Ally, had been teasing me the whole time we were in the wave pool. And now she’d caught me staring.

That little smirk was driving me crazy. I wanted her between my legs, licking my pussy and I wanted to tongue that pink little asshole of hers.

The little bitch was soooooo arrogant. I wanted to bring her down a notch or two or three. And I’d messed up and only reinforced her high opinion of herself.

I could hear her now telling my daughter, Bella. “I busted your dirty old mom checking out my ass.”

I had to smile, knowing what Bella was likely to tell her. “Then ya better let her lick it, she’ll blow your mind. You have no idea what she’ll do to you.” And Bella should know.

Maybe that would take the smug look off that little girl’s face? Who was I kidding. That little girl got whatever she wanted. She had all the looks and her family was well off. She had the world by the balls, so to speak.

I sat out the next rollercoaster to get my mind and head back in the right place so I wouldn’t embarrass myself again.

I’d just slipped my sunglasses on when I saw the girls coming down the exit ramp. Ally was blushing and wouldn’t look at me. Bella had a shit-eating grin on her face swinging her and Ally’s clenched hands.

Bella half-dragged Ally over to me and gave me a wink.

What was this I wondered?

“Mom,” Bella said. “Ally said she’s never had anyone lick her butthole.”

Ally was beat red and the color was deepening.

Bella continued, “I told her you were the best damn ass-licker in the tri-state area and she said you’d have to prove it.”

Ally half turned away from me, her chin almost on her chest.

I glanced around and saw the perfect place.

“C’mon,” I said and took Bella’s free hand. I led the girls to a photo booth. I steered ally into the curtained alcove and said to Bella, “make sure the curtain stays closed please”

We all piled in with Bella holding the curtain closed. I positioned Ally standing on the seat, her ass pushed out toward me.

Completely trusting Bella to guard the doorway, I peeled Ally’s bikini bottom down and came face-to-face with her pink puckered star. My fat tongue slowly ran up from the bottom of her pussy across her asshole and back down.

I thought the little girl’s was gonna cum with just one complete pass. But it took three before she shuddered and gasped.

Then I heard Bella say, “Mom your bikini bottom looks like you peed.”

Dammit! Ally got me again.

[theonotti]

SILENT NIGHT | OS | t.n.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!reader!Riddle

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: The ghost of Christmas Eve Past haunts Theo's present, but not because he needs to change. He needs a reminder of who to never become.

Warnings: Major Character Death (Not Theo or reader), Domestic Violence (Not with Theo or reader), Hurt/Comfort, angsty, fluffy,

Notes: I'm late, but heres a Christmas one shot for Theo :)

That Final Night | Mio

Christmas Eve: Then

“Teddy? To bed, my love.” 

Theo smiled from his hiding spot behind the curtains. In his eight year old mind, there’s no way she could see him. He was invisible. Behind the silky fabric, he ceased to exist. Beyond the darkness between the window and the curtain, Theo could hear the sounds of his mother’s heels tapping against the hardwood. She was close. He could see the outline of her silhouette from the other side of the thin curtain. 

“Father Christmas won’t leave any presents if he knows a certain boy is still awake and hiding!” Her honey soaked voice echoed out again. Before Theo even had the chance to process her words, the curtain was ripped away and he was in his mother’s arms. She spun herself around, making Theo fell as if he was flying through the air. His shrieks of laughter bounced off the thinly decorated walls before she slowed to a halt, smiling lovingly at the wavy haired boy.

“Come, love,” She whispered to him. “I have your tea ready.”

Setting him back down to his feet, Cassundra Nott smiled down at her son before leading him out of the sitting room and down the corridor to his bedroom. 

Theo didn’t like walking the halls of the mansion, despite his many years of living there. The energy in the air was always so grim, the walls bare and painted a dark grey colour. Theo was convinced that there were demons in the walls, due to the screams he could hear coming from them some nights. His mother assured him time and time again that they were only in his nightmares, but Theo was wise for his mere eight years. The nights he heard the screams being the same nights he would see his father go into the basement of the house as the young lad was ushered quickly to bed was not lost on Theo.

In fact, it only made him wonder if his father was summoning the demons, keeping them there as a way to ensure Theo stayed in line. 

There was only one person who brought any slither of warmth under the cold roof of Nott Manor, and it was the woman walking a few paces ahead of him. Her golden blonde curls trailed down her back, her delicate fingers tracing an invisible line into the wall as she led Theo to his bedroom. He looked at her with such incredible awe. Theo didn’t worship any sort of God, because no God could even come close to comparing to the wonder that was Cassundra Nott. If someone told him that she hung the stars and the moon every night, and that the sun only rose because she asked it to, he would’ve easily believed them. There were few people that Theo had in the world. His father’s care for him only extended as far as keeping the Nott legacy going. So that left Theo with three people: Mattheo, Draco, and his mother. But she topped the list. In every circumstance, she topped the list.

His mother opened the door to his bedroom, ushering him inside. The dark green of the walls made the room seem much darker than Theo would like. His father insisted on the colour scheme matching that of Slytherin house, as if it would somehow eliminate the already incredibly low chances of him ending up in another house come time for him to ship off to Hogwarts. His slot in the House of the Cunning and Ambitious was as guaranteed as the snow falling in the winter, or his father downing half a bottle of whiskey before dinner. Theo wished the walls were blue, though he learned the hard way to not let that thought be anything more than a thought.

A steaming mug of tea was sitting on the bedside table, waiting for him as his mother pulled the blankets out for him. Her smile was warm as he walked over to the bed, crawling under the covers and taking the warm mug between his hands. He knew it had Calming Draught in it, as he received this same dose in his tea every Christmas Eve, as well as the evening before his birthday. 

Cassundra sat on the edge of the bed as she watched Theo take a long sip from the mug. 

“Are you ready for Christmas, love?” She asked gently, raking her fingers through Theo’s hair. As he swallowed the tea, he nodded vigorously. 

“I hope Father Christmas got me the broom I asked for!” He exclaimed. “Mattheo let me try his new broom and it was so fast! I bet I could get to Scotland in under five minutes.”

His mother laughed softly before saying, “Under five minutes? That sounds rather fast.” 

Theo nodded enthusiastically.

“I could get to Hogwarts faster than the train! I won’t even need to take it! And then I could come visit you every single evening, so you can give me a kiss and a cuddle goodnight.” 

If Theo weren’t so young and oblivious, he would’ve noticed the flush that filled his mother’s cheeks, or the tender smile that pulled at the corners of her lips. Or even the sadness that filled her eyes over the idea of him leaving her. 

“Well, we have a few years yet before we have to worry about that,” She said delicately. “Maybe if you don’t get a broom this year, you’ll get one the Christmas before Hogwarts?” But all this response does is make Theo groan in displeasure.

“I don’t want to wait two years! I want a broom now!”

His mother smiled at his impatience, hooking her finger underneath his chin and forcing him to look up at her.

“I know you’re excited, lovely boy,” She said in a soft voice. “But I promise you, you’re going to have a good day tomorrow. I’ve made sure to let Father Christmas know how wonderful you’ve been this year.” She scrunched up her nose as she kissed the tip of his. “He doesn’t need to know of the times you were trouble.” She tilted her head as she looked down at him. “Surely he won’t disappoint.” 

Theo looked up at his mother. Of course she was right. She was right about everything. And he trusted her more than anyone else to make sure Father Christmas knew what he wanted more than anything for Christmas. 

Theo finished the last of his tea, making sure he got every last drop like he always did. When he set the mug down, he smiled up at the beautiful face of his mother, who was already smiling down at him. The potion’s effects were already starting to take hold, the running wheel of his mind slowing to a halt as his eyelids grew droopy. With one hand on the back of his head and the other on his shoulder, Cassundra laid Theo down against his pillow.

“Now,” She said, her voice more stern than normal. “What are we not going to do this year?”

Theo let out a tired sigh.

“I won’t sneak down before morning to see what gifts are left for me.”

His mother nodded once, definitively.

“We don’t need another episode with your father.” In his obliviousness from ignorance and the Calming Drought effects, Theo didn’t notice the disdain in her voice, or the fear that flooded her face. Though he did remember the events of the year prior, the screaming from his father at all hours of the morning, followed by Theo being banished to his room until midday. 

“I won’t sneak down again, mamma,” He said in a small voice, a yawn escaping him as his eyes began to droop shut. 

Cassundra tucked the blankets in before leaning down and pressing a kiss to Theo’s forehead. 

“Sleep well, il mio tesoro,” She said in a quiet whisper as the chestnut haired boy had already lost himself to his subconscious. With one last loving look, and a delicate trace down his cheek to ensure he was really sleeping, Cassundra Nott stood up from the bed and left the room, closing the door tightly behind her. 

Little did she know that this would be the last time she saw her son like this.

It was only a few hours later that Theo was awoken by none other than his bladder. He squinted his eyes in the dark as he jumped out of bed, all but running from the room as quickly as his still asleep legs could take him. It wasn’t until he was in the bathroom that he started to wake up. The clock in the hallway chimed three in the morning, meaning his mother was long asleep. His father had gone out to celebrate the holidays with a few other Death Eaters, and he made sure to tell Cassundra and Theo that it was unlikely he would be home before dinner the next day. 

Just one peak.

And then you’ll be back in bed.

No one will ever know.

The logic made sense to him, and before he knew it, his feet were carrying him out of the bathroom and down the hall. Walking right passed his bedroom, he went right to the stairs and slowly tiptoed down.

It wasn’t until he was halfway down the stairs that the voices registered.

“...wake Theodore, please keep your voice down.”

“How dare you police me in my own home!?”

The slur in his father’s voice was so prominent that he almost didn’t recognize him, though the yelling was a sound the young lad was deeply accustomed to. Theo sank down so he was sitting down on the edge of the step, his hands gripping the wooden poles of the bannister as he watched his mother cower. Standing behind the man of the house was a flash of long, platinum white hair with a cane that was used in this moment to stop him from swaying. Next to Lucius Malfoy was Fenrir Greyback, his arms bare despite the raging cold outside, and Antonin Dolohov, who had a flask to his mouth as he watched Nott Sr. in amusement. All of the men in the living room were inebriated beyond belief. 

Cassundra swallowed hard before she spoke again. The fear was so clear cut on her face that Theo wanted to rush to her and cup her cheeks, telling her all would be okay.

“I’m not policing you…” She said in a small voice. “I just think it’s Christmas Eve, and I’m setting up for Theodore, and-”

Her words were lost to the force of Nott Sr.’s hand wrapping around her throat and slamming her against the wall. Her head was unable to bounce forward, but it was evident by the deep grimace on her face how hard it was hit. The reverberation of his mother’s body denting the drywall caused Theo to fall backwards, almost falling down the stairs entirely. 

“Are you arguing with me?” Nott Sr.’s voice was so low that Theo almost couldn’t hear it. But he’d learn how to pick out that voice at a very young age. It was how he knew when to go sit quietly in his room with a book, remaining unseen and unheard. 

“No!” Cassundra was able to gasp out, her hands trying and failing to pry her husband’s calloused fingers from her throat. 

“That sounded like arguing to me, Nott,” Lucius piped in. “Can't let anyone think your wife wears the trousers in the household, can you?”

Theo was not a violent child, but the sound of his best friend’s father egging on the abuse of his mother was filling the eight year old’s chest with a level of anger he had never felt before. He wanted to scream. He wanted to punch. He wanted to hit and hit and hit Lucius until his big, ugly nose went flat. But the fear that his mother taught him to have of his father and the other Death Eaters pulled at his muscles, keeping him frozen on the stairs as he watched the scene unfold. 

Before Theo had a moment to breathe, a wand appeared in Nott Sr.’s free hand, the tip pressed into his wife’s jugular. Theo could feel the air being ripped out of his lungs as he watched the colour leave Cassundra’s cheeks. Her face was illuminated by the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree beside her. Theo’s face was pressed against the wood, so much so that his head was almost fully squeezing between the poles.

“You ungrateful bitch,” Nott Sr. sneered angrily. “Disrespecting me in front of my colleagues.”

“Are you planning to let that slide, Nott?” Fenrir chimed in with a laugh before taking a long swig from a bottle of firewhiskey. 

“Maybe I should have your voice?”

His wand didn’t even move, but a spark of light still shot out of the end, and suddenly, Cassundra’s mouth opened and closed, but no words, not even a stammer or faint whisper, came out. Hot tears spilled down Theo’s cheeks and onto his pyjama bottoms, but he didn’t notice as he watched in horror while his mother tried to speak but only air left her mouth. 

Please stop.

Please don’t.

I couldn’t handle never hearing her speak again.

Or hearing her sing to me.

Or hearing her say my name.

Theo’s hands gripped the poles so tightly that his knuckles turned a blazing shade of white. 

Nott Sr. threw his wife to the ground as Lucius, Fenrir and Antonin laughed in amusement, as if Nott Sr. had told a joke or done something funny. But none of this was funny. Not to Theo, who wanted to run over and protect his mother. Who wanted nothing more than to bring the same sort of pain to his father and friends that they were bringing to the most important person in his life. 

“A woman must remember her place,” Nott Sr. continued on, pacing slow circles around his wife while his fellow Death Eater’s watched in belligerent amusement. The slur in his voice would’ve added a sort of facetiousness to his words, but with the way he looked down at the blonde figure he had just thrown to the floor, it only made it more menacing.

“And how will you remind her?” Lucius asked, causing Theo’s father to turn and look at the blonde haired man with a smirk.

“I have a few ideas in mind.”

Cassundra attempted to scream with every fibre of her being, veins popping out of her neck and forehead while her skin turned a dark red, but no sound came out at all. Theo felt her pain as if he, too, had his voice taken from him, as if he had been slammed against the wall, as if he had been thrown to the floor. 

Nott Sr. turned back to his wife, the smirk fading quickly from his face and replaced with disdain. He raised his wand above his head.

Theo blacked out. 

The eight year old’s legged carried him at a speed he didn’t know he could move at, until he was throwing his arms around his mother, guarding her.

“Father, please,” He sobbed into her soft blonde curls as he addressed the presence towering over them. Cassundra wrapped her arms around Theo, noiselessly comforting him as her fingers raked through his hair, her eyes squeezed shut. The room went deadly silent for a brief moment.

“You will learn to speak when you’re bloody spoken to, boy,” Nott Sr. sneered, his voice low and filled with even more anger than before as he grabbed Theo by the back of his shirt and ripped him out of his mother’s arms, tossing him across the room so hard, he slid across the hardwood floor and into the wall. A shadow leered over him as Nott Sr. rounded on Theo, his wand at the ready.

“If you’re so desperate to be a man, then you can handle her punishment then, can’t you?”

The next few moments went by so quickly, yet also as if they were in slow motion.

Nott Sr. raised his hand above his head, the tip of his wand igniting into a bright red colour. 

A flash of blonde jumped onto his back, tackling the older man to the ground. 

Lucius and Antonin grab Cassundra off Nott Sr. and toss her to the floor once more.

And then, the flash of green.

He didn’t hear his father speak. Hell, he didn’t even see his father get up from the floor. But make no mistake, Theo didn’t miss the older man, with the wild chestnut hair that he did inherit and the menacing look that he did not, pointing his wand at his mother, sending the bright green spell directly into her chest. 

She was gone before the scream left Theo’s mouth. 

“No, no, no, no, no, no…”

Theo crawled across the floor, moving his mother’s head from the floor to his lap as he placed his hands on either cheek.

“Mum, please,” He begged, staring into her lifeless eyes as they remained open. “Mamma, wake up. PLEASE WAKE UP!”

“For Merlin’s sake…” His father mumbled before flicking his wand once more. Theo’s voice evaporated off his tongue, but his lips still moved as he soundlessly begged his mother to come back to him. His tears fell onto the bare skin of her shoulder, and he wondered if they would be enough to warm her back to life. When she didn’t stir, Theo broke down entirely, holding her head close to his chest and burying his face in her golden curls as he began to rock back and forth. 

“One of the house elves will clean it up,” Nott Sr. said to his friends, as if speaking about a

spilled dinner plate and not the dead body of his wife. “Come, gentlemen. The parlour is where my

reserve is, and I need another glass after that… unfortunate incident.”

And so Nott Sr. left the room, followed by Malfoy, Dolohov and Greyback, leaving his grieving son on the floor, where he stayed for hours until the house elves finally pried the body of Cassundra Nott out of his hands.

The hands that would never get to hug or touch his mother ever again. 

~

Christmas Eve: Now

The sound of a crash echoes throughout the kitchen, followed quickly with a loud groan. 

“Sorry, sorry…”

“I swear to Merlin, Malfoy, if you wake up my wife, I’ll throttle you.”

A slew of drunken laughter fills the kitchen as the three men clamber in through the back door. Draco respectfully picks up the trash can he knocked over under the watchful eye of Theo. Once it’s back in its proper position, Draco gestures towards it proudly, as if he had just done something profound.

“Happy, Nott?”

Theo bobs his head back and forth, pretending to mull this over.

“I’d be happier if you weren’t an idiot.”

Mattheo, who had just taken a large pull from the bottle of firewhiskey in his hand, spits it out all over the refrigerator.

“That’s like asking for snow in the middle of July.”

With a deep scowl on his face, Draco shoves Mattheo into the counter before sneering, “Fuck off, Riddle.” 

Mattheo, in his truest form, makes kissy faces at Malfoy, who then proceeds to throw a kitchen roll at his head. Before it can hit the floor, Theo catches it in midair. The other two look at him as if he had just juggled seven kitchen rolls, or caught Baby Jesus himself. 

“Alright, alright, let’s move to the parlour before the two of you destroy my kitchen.”

The walk from the kitchen to the parlour is one the three of them have taken on drunken nights like these hundreds of times, yet at this moment, the distance seems to have grown exponentially longer. Mattheo stumbles as he walks, a loud laugh escaping him as he anchors himself with the wall. Theo, in an effort to keep his friend quiet, smacks him upside the head. 

“What was that for?” The dark curly haired man shouts, not without an undercurrent of laughter in his tone. 

“For being a git,” Theo hisses. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

It’s too late though.

Over the sound of Draco’s giggles, Theo can make out the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

“Theo?”

His heart stops at the sight of you on the landing, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as they jump between him and his friends. He smiles sheepishly at you. 

“Did we wake you, cara mia?”

You shake your head as you reach the bottom of the steps. He sucks in a large gulp of oxygen as he takes in the sight of you. Even in your pyjamas, he finds the sight of you simply breathtaking. The sleep stains on your face and the way your eyes droop makes his heart race as if he was just seeing you for the first time. With a slight sway in his step, his feet carry him towards your magnetic pull, his hands gently gripping your waist. 

“You can tell me if we woke you,” He says in a gentle voice, an undercurrent of guilt filling his tone. But you shake your head again as you bring your hands to the tops of his shoulders, running your fingers along the curves of his muscles to the dip of his neck. 

“I woke up a couple of minutes before I heard you come inside, I promise.”

He doesn’t believe you, but his blood shot eyes are so enraptured by the beauty that is your face that he doesn’t care. His hands move up to cradle your cheeks before he brings his face to yours, peppering your skin with kisses. Your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your temples, your eyelids. Every piece of you that he can reach gets a kiss. His fingertips tease weave into your hair as you place your hands on his clavicle, laughing as he kisses you.

From behind him, Mattheo and Draco both make fake retching noises. 

“I’ve never met a more disgusting couple,” Malfoy whines.

“Truly the worst to be around,” Riddle adds in agreement.

“Oh, piss off to the parlour, you two,” Theo barks as he pulls his mouth away from your face. He doesn’t turn to make sure they leave, trusting the sound of their fading footsteps down the hall. His thumbs stroke the skin of your cheeks delicately.

“Happy Christmas, my love,” He says before gently kissing your mouth. You hum contently as the kiss lasts a few more seconds. 

“Happy Christmas, Theo.”

The sight of you smiling up at him makes his stomach flip. He finds himself wondering how he got so lucky, finding you? From the moment you walked into his life that fateful day at Hogwarts, his life turned into a sort of dream that he didn’t want to wake up from. And it was made even better when you had married him. 

Even after all this time, he can’t get enough of you.

“Get some sleep,” He says gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll keep the boys quiet.”

“Please,” You say, your voice still husky from just having woken up. “And please tell Mattheo that if he throws up on the carpet again, it’ll be him cleaning it up, not the house elves.”

Theo lets out a hearty, full laugh. It’s something his life is filled with a lot of these days. With his friends and you by his side, sometimes it’s easy for him to forget that it wasn’t always like this. 

“I love you with my entire heart,” He slurs, gently kissing you again. “Please never forget that.”

You laugh softly again, the sound making Theo feel lightheaded. Or is it the alcohol? No, it’s definitely the sound of your laugh. 

“I love you too, Drunky,” You tease him. “Please make sure you come to bed. Don’t fall asleep in the parlour.” He nods, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

“Yes, cara mia.”

You give him one last kiss to the cheek before you turn and make your way back upstairs. Theo’s eyes watch you the entire way, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as you disappear into the hallway. It isn’t until he hears the creaky bedroom door close that he finally turns and starts walking towards the parlour to join his mates. 

As he walks down the hall, one of the pictures out of the corner of his eye stops him. Slowly, he turns, the amusement leaving his face as his eyes fall on that one painting.

His mother smiles down at him as she sits in a rocking chair. Behind her is a dark space where his father had been, up until a night of grief and alcohol caused Theo to direct a spell towards the fake personification, and subsequently led to the destruction of all paintings of his father in the house. Though he had the frame replaced, the damage remains.

His eyes trace the trail of golden curls that flow down her shoulders and upper torso. He can still remember how soft the strands felt when she’d kiss him goodnight and they’d brush along his cheek.

“Please tell me I’m not like him,” He begs her, his voice suddenly small. “Please tell me I’ve made you proud.”

She smiles tenderly down at him, his heart feeling ready to burst.

“Oh, il mio tesoro,” She says softly as his eyes flutter shut. “You're ten times the man he’d ever be. And I couldn’t be more proud of you if I tried.” 

Theo smiles widely, tears escaping through his shut eyelids.

Bliss.

[naffeclipse]

Champion

Gladiator!Reader x Gods!Sun, Moon, & Eclipse

Commission Info

This was such a fun and unique fic to write and I'm honored @drops-of-the-sun requested my writing for their AU! A mix of gladiators and gods with two offers and difficult choices. I also loved describing the boys as gods and how they interacted with their champion!

Content Warning for suggestive themes.

———

The domus, a large house, stands tall and grand. In the shadow of the colosseum, it is a mere footstep of smooth marble but no less imposing. The double doors are gilded in gold, and the guards escorting you speak not a word as they push you through the entrance and into the atrium. You gaze around, wary. A large central hall is open at the roof, allowing sunlight to stream down and open up what would otherwise be drenched in shadows. Lavish decorations of gold vases, jewel-bright pottery, and marbled floors scream of the high importance of those residing here. The walls are splashed in frescoes of deep blue midnights and burning yellow mornings; the glorious depictions of the astral beings who must use this as a villa during the god games.

Why do they summon you now?

Aligned with the front door is a dark curtain of blue speckled with tiny yellow stars separating a study from the rest of the building. The guard pushes you towards it. You glare back at the rudeness of your escort. Though you are still a captive, you are a famous gladiator. Your renowned skills earn you much recognition within the colosseum, and though fame does not grant you freedom, it provides you with status. Status that should keep from being treated so harshly, like a lamb led to slaughter. 

Unless that’s what you have become in such a short time. The god games are soon. Your heart cools like iron left out to crumble and crack at the thought of your patrons choosing to cast you aside for another—and forsake your chance for freedom.

A strong, steady voice speaks beyond the curtain.

“Enter, our champion.”

The guards step back in a unison beat of footsteps, standing tall and fearful of the gods they serve.

You however straighten with grizzled anticipation. You smooth down your chilton, a knee-length, short-sleeved tunic, and adjust the cloak carefully wrapped around your body. Stepping forward, you sweep the curtain aside and enter the study.

The room glitters lowly with the light filtering in from small square windows. A glow from the bronze couches, overrun with plush cushions, brightens the space. A center table piece of polished wood lies gilded in gold. The walls are finely decorated in frescoes of yellow ochre and blues so dark they’re almost black. 

Two astral beings fill the room with their radiance. You remain guarded as you bow yourself before them in reverence. Your patrons are powerful. You do not trust them.

One steps forward, his body flickering with living flames. He dons dark armor, cladded with a rich red cloak down his back. Gold chains bridge over his chest and attach to his shoulders with the rich symbol of the sun. Aptly decorated, for he is Sun.

A marking that is upon your lower back, a stamp of claim when you first became their champion, shares the symbol.

The second astral being leans against the wall, draped in shadows. Moon. You resist a shiver as his crimson, otherworldly eyes look over you with an expression you can’t read. He lingers on the scar on your face, and you nearly turn your head away in anger that he would openly gaze at the marred flesh you despise. His arms are folded, and his skin is the living flesh of the night sky, dark and deep blue, with tiny stars speckling his body. He wears gray linen, thin and climbing up his throat. A tendril not unlike a nightcap falls over his shoulder from behind his head, shimmering softly.

“Welcome,” Sun greets boldly. He gestures an open arm over the couches. “Make yourself comfortable.”

You silently pad to the bronze seat. Sitting down, you loathe how they stand over you, lording, commanding, an untouchable power radiating from their beings.

“You are stunning, our champion.” Sun steps closer, and draws his finger along the scar of your face, leaving a hot trail over the bridge of your nose. “Your physical prowess is lethal and your strategic cunning is a marvel to behold.”

You hold very still, jaw clenched and muscles pulled taut along the length of your body. The beat of your heart jumps.

“Yes?” you inquire.

Sun flashes a burning smile, his pale eyes flicking like candlelight.

“We have an offer for you.”

Moon steps forward. He studies you fiercely, eyes half-lidded before he speaks.

“Become our consort.”

You stare, struck by the astral beings. A thick haze takes over your mind.

They already claim you, a marking of a moon and sun sitting on your lower back, circled in black. You, their champion. But to become a consort would mean a fight you have never faced before. Would they use you? Bleed you dry of all your mortal love before casting you aside? Do they only care to preserve their favorite fighter?

You don’t dare lean into their silvered words. How can you?

“We are waiting for your answer, my champion.” Sun steps closer. He takes your hand and brings it to his mouth where the temperance warmth of his flames lick your knuckles. “You have never been so uncertain in battle. Why begin now?”

“If you accept, you will have freedom,” Moon rasps darkly. He slips like a shadows to your side. He gathers your other hand and drags the back of his finger down a scar that cuts the length of your forearm. “You may refuse if you wish.”

“And rot in the colosseum,” Sun punctures cheerfully. 

You shiver in equal parts fear and uncertainty.

Freedom. You could see your mother again, after all these years. She was frail before you were thrown into the gladiator fights. You have often imagined how unkind the years have been to her and your younger brother while you’ve been held away in the colosseum. How big has your brother grown? Has he moved on? Begun his own life? You hope so.

The two gods loom over you. You cannot keep them waiting.

You open your mouth, then close it, then open it again. This is not the simple task of cutting another down. This is your fate of dancing between the will of astral beings and your desires. 

Can you trust your patrons?

“I beg, my lords, for time to consider this most gracious offer,” you speak, cool and cordial, but careful.

The flames of Sun’s being flare for a heartbeat, and the heat upon your hand creeps to an unbearable degree. Moon’s hand tightens around your wrist as if to place you in shackles. Would it matter to them if a consort is willing or not?

Sun grins and releases your hand. “Very well. A day should be plenty for you to understand what a gift this is. Moon?”

“Agreed.” He sets your hand back on your lap with a rubied stare. “You may go.”

You bow again and slowly rise. Without a word, you leave their presence, their stares cutting through your spine and into your very core before the curtain falls. You breathe out.

Is freedom worth the price of becoming two gods’ consort?

Your quarters are meager, dusty pale walls with simple wooden furniture strangely strewed with lavish gifts from rich contributors and sponsors of your battles. There are letters from those you celebrate your victories and root for more bloodshed by your hand. 

If you accept being Sun’s and Moon’s consort, you are then slotted in as their champion for the god games, and winning such a battle would win you everything. Your gods’ affections, freedom, and the power to choose your fate—should your lords treat you well and properly.

You don’t believe they will simply adore you. They yearn for something. They wish to use up precious life at their whim.

But do you stay and fester, fighting until you grow older and more unbalanced, and a blade catches your heart?

What choice is there when it is between two shared fates of doom?

You do not light a lamp. You stay in the darkness and contemplate how you will answer in the morning. 

A disturbance pulls you from your brooding. Under your door, darkness shifts. Before you can reach for your weapon, a column of smoke slips into your room. It spills and twists upon itself. From it emerges a god.

Your eyes widen before you throw yourself down on your knees, and bow properly. Never had you hosted such a guest in your pitiful chambers.

“Eclipse,” you breathe.

“Do not speak,” he growls. The god holds his two sets of arms wide. His skin is dark maroon, almost colorless. His loose brown robes expose his chest and the burning orange star set within his chest like an exposed heart. His one eye glows not unlike embers pulsing within a fire. A fierce marring on his other eye removes it completely. He glides deeper into the darkness of your room, standing before you.

“Rise, and sit with me.” He moves without confirming your movement. Draping himself upon the humble workings of your dull wooden couch, he waits for you. His head tilts expectantly. His sharp teeth flash, waiting. 

You have no choice but to answer. Straightening, you rise to your feet and stand before him. His relaxed, reclined position on the couch is too uninhibited for your liking. 

The god smirks up at you, his tongue running over his wicked fangs.

“Sit.” He pats his thigh.

You do, falling into the god’s lap. His arm immediately wraps around your waist. You hold your breath steady as if you tread black water, afraid of sinking into his abysmal mass.

“I have come here to make you a most beautiful proposal.” His upper right arm finds your hair, cut short with an undershave, and strokes the scars over the back of your neck. It takes all your being to not shudder.

Your eyes flash to his in the darkness. 

He grins wickedly and snarls softly, “Become my champion.”

Your lips part, eyes widening. 

“Oh, I know,” he chuckles ruefully, “Sun and Moon think they can keep you all to themselves. But you don’t have to be tethered to them, dragged into their apathetic schemes. No, I will show you what a true champion deserves.”

You hold horrible still as his claws softly scrape over your hip bone. His eyes fall to your lower back side, where your chilton conceals the gods’ marking upon you.

“And you would not have to tell them you have chosen another,” he says, his eye half-lidded. “You need only to say you have accepted their proposal. Then you will watch them, study them, and tell me what you have found. What do they lack? Where do they stumble?”

You wish so horribly to speak but if an astral being commands you, you must obey. Your teeth grind softly together.

“Do this,” he lowers himself to your ear. His glinting teeth graze the shell of it, and you clench your fists, “and I will free you. I will adore you eternally.”

You hold yourself rigid under the god’s offer. That may be the ultimate demise. If you taunted Sun and Moon and betrayed them to another, how would they obliterate you? Your very being could be scattered to the cosmos like stardust. 

But Eclipse offers you something more. 

“You may speak,” he says and draws a clawed hand down your thigh. He clutches you close. His one eye admires you as if you were a golden crown.

Your mouth is dry. Wetting your tongue, you face the astral being as if he draws in the very light of the world into him. Nothing can escape, not even you.

“Do I have your sworn oath that no harm will come upon me should I agree to such a plot?” 

His single burning eye glimmers.

“Yes.” His hands tighten around you. “I give it now, pledging myself to you, gladiator. We will be equals. Though you will be consort in name, you hold the power of a god at your disposal when you accept my hand.”

You hold your breath. A god’s oath is too powerful, and unbreakable, even by their strengths. 

You could soon be free.

“I will give you the night to reach a decision.” Eclipse slides you off of his lap as if you were only a feather. He sets you sweetly back on the thin cushion of your couch. “By morning, when you return to Sun and Moon, I will have your answer. Don’t keep me waiting.”

Twisting smoke envelopes him. Again, the thick haze of his traveling form slips under the door, and you are left in the dark without his crackling orange light.

You don’t move. Your fate is in your hands, and you must choose.

[shoccolatine]

things i associate them with

╰┈➤ ❝ LUCIFER. ❞

red wine, dark chocolate, violin music, clinking of glasses, the light chatter in a restaurant, rustling papers, papercuts, loose black feathers, waltzing, chandeliers, skulls, cologne, red wax seals.

╰┈➤ ❝ MAMMON. ❞

chocolate coins, white chocolate, gold chains, the smell of tires and gasoline, mechanic grease smears, leather, the divot in your favourite spot on the couch, coins jingling, fuzzy dice, warm hugs.

╰┈➤ ❝ LEVIATHAN. ❞

pixel art, neon signs, LED strip lights, glitchcore, songs made in mario paint, multiple desktop screens, the clear purple N64 i've had since 2000, aquariums, jellyfish, 20-sided dice, ramune, ecco the dolphin.

╰┈➤ ❝ SATAN. ❞

cats (specifically calico), new book smell, dusty shelves, the rough feeling of novel pages between your fingers, introspection, dark academia aesthetic, existential thoughts, freshly brewed coffee, elbow patches on sweaters, paws and tails.

╰┈➤ ❝ ASMODEUS. ❞

velvet, lace, flowers and leaves, whispering secrets to each other, mirrors, clay masks, warm hugs, sunlight streaming through sheer curtains, gentle laughter heard from another room, glitter, strawberry shortcake, holding pinkies.

╰┈➤ ❝ BEELZEBUB. ❞

all-you-can-eat buffets, sitting with family/friends at the dinner table, the refreshing feeling of downing an entire glass of cold water, a roaring crowd, drops of sweat, grass stains, laughing so hard your stomach hurts, big fangs.

╰┈➤ ❝ BELPHEGOR. ❞

cows, thick socks, pillows, big sweaters, naps, sleepy cuddles, moonlight through the curtains, warming up cold hands, hot chocolate, deep conversations at 3am, watching the stars, astronomy, thorns.