#stardust in his eyes 🌌

[authorautumn]

Worth It. (CRK)

A/n : hiii everyone! I've been getting way too many requests than I expected 😭 I had no idea there would be so many of you! Thank you for your ideas and hopefully I'll get to them. As for now, enjoy this one shot headcannon! I will make more of these if you request.

Genere : fluff, romantic so-so

Character : stardust cookie

Summary : How I would imagine your first date with this cookie. Enjoy!

A Night to Remember (Stardust) 🌌

/⁠ᐠ: It was summertime, but that didn't matter now. Why? Because you were about to go to space. Outerspace. But, you didn't know that just yet.

You had agreed to the mysterious date request of stardust cookie. You had no idea what to expect , with him leaving you the tiniest hint of explanation:

"Wear this dress, I think it'll look stunning on you."

It was a medium, navy strapless dress with a white cardigan to pair with it. You appreciated the gesture, as it fit you just right. You have been friends since forever. He was the type to know little details about you such as your exact size. You smiled warmly as you made your way out to see him, waiting for you. He smiled back, taking your hand in his as he twirled you in front of him, putting both of his hands around your eyes.

"Stardust?" , you giggled softly.

"Shh, don't worry. I think you can trust me, right?" He said in a soft tone.

You nodded as you walked, relying on his hands to guide you along. You suddenly stop and smell fresh grass and flowers around you. Expecting a garden so late at night, you curiously asked if you could open your eyes. He let his hands away from your face and you stood at the scenery in complete awe.

You weren't sure how he found such a place, but you didn't care either. It was perfect. You had run to the bottom of the staircase that was going into space? Seeing the spaceship at the top made you at a loss for words. Stardust chuckled.

"Not so fast, you really wanna walk up all these stairs?"

A small yelp escaped your mouth as he carried you bridal style up the stairs, flying of course. The waterfalls and flowers on the stairs made you feel special. All of this..for me.

He then took you into the space ship which had an open glass shielded view of the stars that surrounded the atmosphere. A few minutes went by, and you barely noticed how close stardust had gotten to your face, inches away from kissing you before he made full contact. Soft, gentle, and sweet.

"I love you" , were the last words you both exchanged to each other before you spent the rest of your night stargazing, looking for constellations, and discussing a possible future together.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[stardusts-selfship-confessions]

ᯓ★ Welcome selfshippers!! ★ᯓ

PROSHIPPERS, ZIONISTS, AND TERFS ARE NOT WELCOME ON THIS BLOG!! DNI.

confession box is: open, on hiatus and will post when i return confessions are queued! it may take a little while for your to pop up depending on how many are submitted

hi!! my name is stardust/star, and i'm a selfshipper. i've seen some other confession accounts and thought it'd be fun to start my own!! you can send in anything about selfshipping that you wouldnt want to share on your own blog, or just send something for fun if you'd like oᴗ<

all confessions will be tagged with emoji signoffs and what character is being talked about as an f/o (if the name is submitted)!

i probably won't reblog much on this account, but i may reblog the occasional selfship art :]

don't want me to verbally respond to your confession? thats okay! if you'd like me to just tag and post your confession, please mark it at the end (before your signoff) with a 🔴

blacklisted topics: - character ai - the c0ffin of andy and l3yley - vivziep0p media - aging up characters - s3xual content (since i, the owner, am a minor) - c0untryhumans/h3talia - do not use slurs or discriminatory language in your confessions

anon signoffs will be listed below as confessions start to roll in! posts with anon signoffs will be tagged with emoji and word signoffs, so you can block the tag if you're uncomfortable with an anon (or they f/o a character you do!)

🌱🎼 anon/plant treble anon 🥀�� anon/wilting rose scroll anon ☎️🐾 anon/dialup anon 🌺💊 anon/hibiscus pill anon ☎️🎄 anon/telephone christmas tree anon 🍓💙 anon/strawberry blue anon ⭐️🥤 anon/star cup anon 🐾🦴 anon/hyena anon ♣️🌙 anon/club moon anon 🌼🦈 anon/flower shark anon 🤿 anon/diving mask anon ♦️🐉 anon/red diamond dragon anon mint ghost anon (no emojis) 🛹 anon/skateboard anon 🌌📼 anon/stars vhs anon 🍓🍼 anon/strawberry milk bottle anon ♣️🎲 anon/club dice anon 🍦🐻‍❄️💜 anon/ice cream polar purple anon 🎀🪳 anon/bow roach anon 💥💥 anon/boom boom anon 🛠️💕 anon/tool hearts anon 🌅🗡️💨💧anon/sun sword wind drop anon (try saying that ten times fast /j) 📺🕯️ anon/tv candle anon 🛼🐾 anon/skate paws anon 💫🎃🖤 anon/star pumpkin heart anon 💛🩷 anon/yellow pink hearts anon 💙💫 anon/blue heart star anon 🪽 anon/wing anon 🐺🐏 anon/wolf sheep anon 🐦‍⬛📺 anon/crow tv anon ☕️💋 anon/coffee kiss anon serpent loop anon 🌺🩷 anon/hibiscus pink heart anon 🌿🎶 anon/fern music anon 🍬🤖 anon/candy robot anon 🌙🧿 anon/crescent evil eye anon 🪽🐝 anon/angel bee anon 🎠🪻 anon/carousel hyacinth anon 💙🏴‍☠️ anon/blue heart pirate anon 🍯🪐 anon/honey saturn anon 👻🥐 anon/ghost croissant anon

[headmate-ideas]

a space lovin fella? named after the james webb telescope? maybe also a music lover. 🌌🌟🌙🎆⏳️🛰🪐

🛰 HEADMATE TEMPLATE ⏳️

✦ Name(s): Webb, James, Stardust ✦ Pronouns: he/him, they/them, ey/em/eir/eirs/emself, star/stars/starself, xe/xem/xyr/xyrs/xemself, 🌟/🌟s/🌟self, 🛰/🛰s/🛰self ✦ Species: alterhuman ✦ Age: 32 ✦ Role(s): interest holder, symptom holder (optional), autism holder (optional), ADHD holder (optional), socializer, manager, musicnaut ✦ Symptoms experienced: hyperfixations/special interests, infodumping ✦ Labels: aroace, veldian, neutrois, androgynous, stellarian ✦ Xenos: space, music, art ✦ Interests/likes: photography, 20th century history, modern art ✦ Dislikes: not being listened to ✦ Music taste: art pop, new wave, pop punk ✦ Aesthetic(s): Memphis design, holographic aesthetic, psychedelica ✦ Objectum attraction(s): spacecraft ✦ Kins: stars, aliens, the moon ✦ Emoji proxy: 🛰⏳️ ✦ Details:

Webb loves space and music (particularly alternative pop from the 1960s to the 2000s) and holds both of these things as interests for the system. If the system have neurodivergencies that cause hyperfixations/special interests, Webb holds those disorders and experiences those interests as such, infodumping frequently. He loves going to planetariums and to concerts, treating these as both engagements with his interests as well as social outings. Webb has a generally calm and easygoing approach to life and is good at solving problems for the system. They share any of the general ambitions that the system have, and while their plans are not always realistic at first, they are good at refining the system's dreams into actionable steps. Webb is good at organization, especially digital and musical organization, such as of the system's playlists.

[These can be edited and changed as needed, and headmates will almost definitely not turn out EXACTLY as described.]

[atomicdaydream]

FLUX Chapter 3

Warning!!!

You read at your own risk! 

I can’t possibly predict what may or may not trigger you!

So, with that being said, READ RESPONSIBLY! If something triggers you, STOP READING!

Also, if you’re a minor, and you continue reading, that falls squarely on you! I don’t work for Tumblr and refuse to stalk every single profile on here to see if you are in fact over 18!! 

I write for myself. If you like what you read, give it a like and a reblogg! No pressure! It just helps get the word out! 

Thanks for stopping by!

Music Used For This Chapter:

Time. 

What exactly is it? Some say it’s manmade. Some say it’s been around since the beginning. 

Maybe even before. 

Are we then slaves to it? Is it the very cause of our mortality?

Would we even age if it didn’t exist?

So many questions, so few answers.

But that’s the universe for you! Always keeping us guessing. 

Wondering.

From the very edge of the universe, to the tip of a bee’s wing, we are all but a moment apart. 

🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌠🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌🌌

New York.

Another time. 

Another place. 

Although, now, not entirely. 

Ravaged by solar radiation, the once great city is now protected by a giant metal dome. Only several skyscrapers remain, skewing the once iconic coastline. The rest? Crumbled away, forgotten. 

The four gods that used to inhabit this city, saving its citizens from certain evil, left merely a year ago, taking their queen with them. When she left, taking her powers with her, the Earth began to fall apart. Slowly at first, then faster and faster. Without her, Earth’s core stalled, no longer able to maintain a magnetic field, therefore it could no longer protect the humans and what was left of the mutants from the sun. 

Earth was well on its way to becoming nothing but stardust. 

Kyle Vittenhouse lay nude in his bed, continuously hitting the snooze button on the wall next to the bed. He knew that today was a big day, but he wasn’t ready to leave. Not yet. He wasn’t exactly excited to go to some planet he’d never been to before. Especially one that was so politically charged. He’d spent enough of his life under that kind of scrutiny and it was bad enough that he and his parents didn’t even have to put their names into the lot to be chosen. 

They were rich. That’s all that was needed or even required. So, it came as no surprise to him or anyone else when their names were read aloud during the most recent convention. 

When Meg Meyers: Running Up That Hill echoed through his room for the sixth time, he growled, not bothering to turn the alarm off. “Alright! Al-fucking-right!” He threw back his dark green comforter, his blue eyes landing on the small white round ball with a blue light around its center on his bedside table. 

🎶It doesn’t hurt me.

Do you wanna feel how it feels?

Do you wanna know, know that it doesn’t hurt me?

Do you wanna hear about the deal that I’m making?🎶

“Scion, what’s the weather forecast for today?” Kyle asked for what would be the last time, a sharp stab causing him to rub the center of his chest. 

“Good morning, Kyle.” A young male voice responded. “Today, July 28, 5032, there is a sixty percent chance of acid rain throughout the Eastern part of the city  and a one hundred percent chance of ozone poisoning throughout the entire Metro North. Might I suggest that you wear your-”

“Yeah! Yeah!” Kyle cut the AI off as he pulled on his pants. “I know I need to wear that god forsaken mask!” He shook his head, reaching for a plain gray t-shirt. Squinting he said, “Is there an update on Earth’s destruction?”

🎶You don’t wanna hurt me

But see how deep the bullet lies

Unaware I’m tearing you asunder🎶

Scion was silent for a moment, the white sphere suddenly blinking from blue to red. “The Earth will perish in exactly one week, two hours and eighteen seconds.”

Kyle took in a deep breath, pulling his shirt over his head, then exhaling as he smoothed it down over his abdomen. “There’s absolutely no stopping it huh?”

“No, Kyle. Scientists have exhausted every possible Idea and effort. Without the female elemental, Earth can not function properly.” Scion explained, sadness creeping into his tone.

“Can’t they just find another one?” Kyle threw his hands up. “She can’t be the only one!” He ran his hands through his hair, then reached for a pair of black socks. 

“She is the last of her kind. There haven’t been any elementals identified, other than her, in the last six hundred years.”

🎶It’s you

It’s you and me

And if only I could

I’d make a deal with God🎶

“Then why did she leave?” Kyle spat, his brow furrowing. “Turn off the music!” The music instantly stopped. He took another deep breath. Then softly, “Why did they take her off of the planet?”

“No one knows.” 

Kyle stood, shoving his feet into his shoes. “That’s bullshit! I know there’s got to be more to it than that! I can’t, for a second, believe that she would allow her home world to simply go to shit!”

Apprehensively, he made his way into the living area, instantly scowling at the stack of teflon crates scattered throughout the room. His mother had insisted on using the outdated crates to pack away their most important belongings. He tried to talk her into using the lunar crates, but she just wouldn’t hear him out. She never really listened to him anyways.

Continuing to stare at the crates, he groaned. “Scion, turn on the news.”

“Turning on the news.” A clear screen descended from the ceiling next to Kyle, flickering to life. “Would you like your usual for breakfast?”

“No, I’ve lost my appetite.” Kyle scoffed, stepping in front of the invisi-screen just in time to see a perky blonde newscaster appear. He was about to tell Scion to change it to a different channel, but something about the newscaster made him pause.

“Good morning, New York! I’m Chaney Willis, here to give you up to the minute reports and to keep your day running smoothly!” She smiled, appearing happy, but her green eyes were telling a different story. “Danings has the day off. First, we begin with this week’s future cast! Bob?” She kept her fake smile as the camera switched its sharp eye on Bob. 

“Thank you, Chaney!” His smile was just as faux. “Yes, it’s that time of year folks! Lot’s of acid rain will be coming down in the Eastern part of the city, while those ozone layers will be killer for the entire region!” His hands motioned over the screen to his left. “Keep those galvanized umbrella’s with you today and make sure you wear your red level masks!”

Kyle turned away from the screen, tuning them out for a few minutes as he looked for his favorite coffee cup. Damn it! Did she already have that packed up to? Fuck! If she thought for one second he was going to leave the house without at least having one cup of joe, she was sorely mistaken!

“And in other news,” Chaney’s voice raised as Kyle refocused on the screen. “Multi millionaire, Thomas Vittenhouse, who was acquitted of all charges last week, will be leaving Earth with his wife and son to the newest terraformed planet, Rayon.”

“Turn that garbage off, Scion! Now!” Kyle heard his mother shout as she came down the stairs, her heels clicking across the tile as she then quickly entered the kitchen. The screen blipped off, the image of Chaney fading away. Kyle stared at his mother through the clear screen. “Kyle?” She huffed. “Why do you insist on watching that trash?” She glared at him, crossing her arms. 

Maybe he should have changed the channel. Nah, it wouldn’t have helped. His father would have been the top story with all the news outlets. He shrugged. “Well, some of us actually like to know what’s going on in the world.” She continued to glare at him. He smirked. “By the way, where the fuck is my cup?”

She frowned, her eyes flicking to the crates..

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He shouted, narrowing his eyes as he came around from behind the screen.

“Kyle? Did you accidentally take a memory wipe last night?” She put her hands on her hips. “You know you can’t have anything to eat or drink twenty four hours before you go into cryo! And as far as the news goes, there won’t be any more to report about in a week anyway.” She sighed, suddenly appearing more tired than upset. 

Kyle groaned, slapping his left hand to his forehead. Shit. “You’re right! I’m sorry! I completely forgot! And don’t remind me! I know the Earth is falling apart!”

His mother looked down at the floor, her heart heavy. “We lost the last of our oceans just yesterday.” She said softly. “Not to mention all the-” She raised her head to look out the window, only to be met with a gray-black haze. “We can’t stay here any longer Kyle. There’s nothing left.”

“I know mom. I know.”

Throughout the day, the movers came and took all of the teflon crates, taking them to the shuttle that was exclusively reserved for the Vittenhouse family. After Kyle and his mother were through overseeing the movers, Kyle’s father had called to say that he wouldn’t make it to the apartment, and that he needed to tie up a few loose ends and would be meeting them at the shuttle bay no later than 8 p.m. ,and to go ahead and leave with the movers. 

Kyle and his mother were used to him doing this. He was always caught up in one meeting or another. It was just how things went. Right?

“Where the hell is your father? I swear, he always likes to cut things a bit too close!” Kyle’s mother gritted her teeth as she paced back and forth on the shuttle dock. 

Kyle gave her a concerned look. “Mom, you know dad has never been on time in the whole history of ever. So, why would he be on time for his own departure?” 

He looked down at his right wrist, pressing a small hidden button near the base of his thumb. The flesh on the top of his wrist went transparent, the time blinking in bright white: 8:30 p.m.. He then tapped the film and it slid to the next screen. 

According to the red dot that indicated his fathers current position, he was only two blocks away. He tapped the screen twice and his skin reappeared. He looked up, stepping over to his mom, gently taking her by the elbow. 

“He’s almost here, mom. Let’s just head on inside and get situated. Ok?” He gave her his most convincing look. You know where your eyes plead with everything you’ve got? 

She nodded solemnly, glancing over her shoulder towards the shuttle gates, then back at Kyle, tears forming in her eyes. “Alright.”

When they boarded the shuttle, an uneasy feeling wormed its way into Kyle’s gut, but he quickly shook it off. He didn’t want to add to his mother’s anxiety. Silently, he led his mother over to an awaiting AI who was standing by the cylindrical cryo chambers. 

“Hello, Mrs. Vittenhouse! Kyle Vittenhouse! My name is Francis!” A creepy smile crept its way across his face as his laser blue eyes studied Kyle and his mother. “I will be helping you this evening. We will begin the process in approximately five minutes! Is there anything I can do for you while you wait?”

“How long will it take to get to Rayon?” Kyle asked, his gaze sweeping over the cryo tubes. 

Francis blinked a few times, then pointed to the chamber closest to them. “It will take fifty years, Kyle Vittenhouse.” He then flicked his wrist and a holographic image of circuitry appeared in front of him that quickly turned into a cosmic map. “Your journey will take you through vast amounts of space.” He pointed to several galaxies, then held his finger over one. “Rayon is located here, in the Andromeda galaxy.”

Kyle blinked several times, then looked at his mother. “Are you ready for this?” His mother nodded slowly, her face paling slightly.

“Do not worry.” Francis said, the hologram clicking off. “It’s perfectly safe! Also, the beautiful thing about cryo sleep is that you won’t age at all. You will remain the same.” He looked around. “Will the other Mr. Vittenhouse be joining you?”

Kyle’s mother turned back towards the entrance, frowning, then flicked her weary gaze back to Francis. “He should be along shortly.” She breathed, then bit her lower lip. 

Francis’ laser blue eyes faded for a second, then he smiled. “It is my duty to inform you that when you awaken, it will be the year fifty eighty two. I have programmed the system to automatically download any relevant events into your memory centers that may happen while you’re asleep. Any questions?”

Kyle and his mother both shook their heads. 

“Excellent! I will get started with the process.” Francis smiled, reengaging his hologram. 

Kyle’s mother studied her cryo chamber as Kyle quickly checked his wrist again. The red dot hadn’t moved. That slimy sinking feeling returned and he put a hand to his stomach. He tried to reason with himself that the sick feeling was because he hadn’t eaten, but deep down he knew something was very very wrong.

“Mrs. Vittenhouse? It’s time.” Francis said as he motioned for her to lay down in the chamber.

“Kyle,” she choked, a flash of unease in her eyes, “will you wait for your father?” Her gaze drifted once again to the shuttle entrance.

He reached out, taking her hand, squeezing gently. “Of course I will, mom.”

She nodded, pushing her curly blonde hair back from her face. She cleared her throat as she looked at Francis. “Ok. Let’s do this.”

Kyle watched her slim figure disappear just below the cylinder’s glass door, keeping what he had discovered to himself. She looked back at him through the glass, waving. He waved back, then blew her a kiss. 

“Would you like to listen to any music on the trip, Mrs. Vittenhouse?” Francis asked, waving away the hologram. 

“No thank you, Francis.” She whispered, closing her eyes.

Francis waved his hand over the cylinder door, then pushed a few of the buttons along the side and the glass instantly froze over, sealing her inside. There was no movement. Kyle’s mother was frozen in time. 

Kyle nervously checked his wrist once more and saw that the red dot, representing his father, had disappeared entirely. 

Shit!

“Francis! I need to be put under! Now!” Kyle ordered. “Then I need you to take off immediately! Don’t wait for my father!”

He looked at Kyle as if he were crazy, but swiftly complied.

Something was terribly wrong! Kyle laid down in the chamber, a wave of nausea passing through him. Sweat beaded up on his forehead as Francis stood over him, pushing the same buttons that had put his mother to sleep. 

“Any music-”

“Sure! Anything 80’s!” Kyle blurted.

Francis nodded, pushing the last few buttons, then waved his hand. Kyle watched as the glass above him froze over just as Every Breath You Take by: The Police filtered into the cryo chamber and a shiver slid through him, plunging him into darkness. 

Tags: @thelaundrybitch @wynndigogh

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Ziggy stardust x reader 👨‍🎤🌌👢

You were always the dreamer. You weren't very popular in comparison to the singer but somehow you caught his attention. You lived a simple life, in a house with alone, you didn't need anyone. The one thing that kept you going was the dreams. You were a walking dream.

No one understands you. You couldn't socialise with normal people. As you put it. Everyone had their quirks, but—they all spoke of boring, mundane things you cared not for. You did get along with those of a grand imagination but that was only short lasted.

You prefer the quiet life of being alone.

One night, you were studying or watching TV. When a sudden flash of light beamed down. You looked out your window, seeing a strange aura of glitter.

Rushing out outside, you looked down to see who it was. And to your surprise—it was the rockstar himself—Ziggy Stardust.

He was draped in flamboyant attire with bright red and orange. His hair was bright like Mars. He had a strange circle on his forehead, and he carried a red tear drop shaped 12-string guitar.

Your breath dropped. You weren't sure if this was real. Ziggy Stardust was here, in the flesh.

You checked his pulse. He was alive.

Acting quickly, you decided to carry him—to the best of your ability—inside your house. You placed him in your bed. To the best of your ability, you kept him warm and safe.

He was breathing. You draped a blanket over him for the time being and placed his guitar to the side.

After a few hours, he woke up. His eyes flickered, and you felt the weight lift off your chest.

"Where, where in the bloody cosmos am I?" He asked, placing a hand to his head.

"Uh, my house." You said.

"Your house, is it?" he cocked an eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"Ah, well forgive the intrusion, darlin', I was surfin' through space, through the stars to find earth for me next gig and I—crashed here." He sat up.

"Gig? Oh? Do you mean like with your band?" You questioned, seeing as he was the only one here.

"Yeah, me band, spiders from Mars we are."

You then offered, "I see, well, I could drive you if you'd like."

"That would be great, I mean, it doesn't start for another 12 hours." His reddish lips curved, and his eyes glinted.

By the time you got there, he gave you access to backstage. You'd attend more concerts day by day, helping with props, set up and make up.

Despite not being as famous, nor a singer or musician. He found you intriguing. It's about the flare of your imagination that drew him in. Why your're so dreamy and artistic like him.

He would use comforting words to help with insecurity and fame. Even when you were less, he would reassure you. "Darlin' you are enough. You don't need popularity. you're a unique star on your own. I'd rather that than anyone else."

As you attend concerts, he would mention something like. "Ello' me beautiful audience. I ave' a special guest with me tonight, one whose been elpin' me travel the cosmos. Y/n L/n".

If you choose to go on stage, you would awkwardly stand there as ziggy sings to you. Lady Stardust. He doesn't just see you. He sees what you are. He's in love no matter what you look like.

Parties are wild. You're not into the drug life, maybe a cig, but otherwise, he would respect that. If it got much ziggy, would hold you in his hand and protect you, some knight in shining armour.

You helped with his make up in performances.

You'd travel the cosmos with him and his 12-string guitar. It'd be like a galatic dream, holding him as he played and flew through the galaxy, creating a whirlwind of glittery colours.

On mars, you'd be allowed to be yourself and chill out. Many of the residents are full of love and hope. They'd be rocking out to the Spiders from Mars.

A band group you met through ziggy. He'd be rocking out on Mars twenty-four-seven.

On earth, you'd likely attempt to help ziggy.

That was until his downfall. Ziggy became more obsessed with the fame life he began to forget you in a sense.

The fans and his fame sent him on a spiralling madness to forget his original mission. To bring peace and love on earth by rocking out to the youth.

You started to become alienated, and the Spiders from Mars noticed it too.

You remembered your first time doing it. He was hyped up on drugs and alcohol.

You were hyped up on the rock star life.

You were both in his hotel after a party in London with mick Jagger and Iggy Pop. He got you into corruption.

He would seduce you and have his way with you. You remembered smearing his makeup on both your faces. Causing a night to remember as you both deflowered on his living room floor.

Ziggys' last performance was in London's Hammersmith Odeon. It was his last performance, singing "rock n roll suicide." Where ziggy was killed off mysteriously.

You later found his body carrying his guitar on stage, and that was the end. He did leave a message for you. "Stay true darlin', ain't no one is like you. Be the cosmic star that you are."

David bowie persona requests: open

[buddiesystempod]

🔗: Cosmic Love: Buddie Astrology 9-1-1

A falling star 🌠 fell from Eddie’s heart 💖 and landed in Buck’s eyes. 

Have you ever wondered what the stars have to say about Buddie? Well, grab your cosmic popcorn 🍿 because we’re diving deep into the stardust of the universe! 🌌

In this special episode Han, Cil, and Rachel are guided by our celestial sage, Chrissy (@kithmet) joining us to unravel the star-crossed mysteries surrounding our favorite 9-1-1 duo. 

As we dissect their personalities through the 🔎 lens of astrology, we uncover the intricate dance of their relationship, exploring themes of emotional vulnerability, the struggle between duty and desire, and the undeniable chemistry that binds them together.

Wondering what zodiac signs have to do with fictional character analysis? 🤷 We’re so glad you asked, it’s because the stars told us: 

Buck is a pathological people-pleaser, always striving for harmony and fairness, ⚖️ while he yearns for a home and family he can really belong to and be truly seen by, while 🎭 masking his inner turmoil with charm and bravado.

Eddie embodies steadfast loyalty, with a single-minded, all-or-nothing mentality that can get him into trouble with the additional layer of his intense sense of responsibility and conflicting bone-deep desire for real romantic partnership.

And that’s not even scratching the surface!

Whether you’re an astrology novice or a seasoned star-gazer, 🤩 this episode promises to be a mystical journey through the planets and constellations. 🪐💫 Join us for some laughs, some 'aha' 😯 moments, and perhaps a little bit of cosmic chaos 🤪 as we explore how their lives have been shaped by the stars — influencing their motives, actions, and ultimately, their fates together.

Buck-le up; it’s gonna be a wild ride through the galaxy! 🌟

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

@sasumimo

🏳️‍⚧️♨️🌌

Steam rose from the hot spring like a thin, white veil, winding upwards through the cold night air. Stars glimmered above, the sky clear, so clear that one could see the dim band of the Milky Way stretch over the horizon, a colorful gash of stardust and nebulae.

Wei Wuxian glanced up, mesmerized with the sight for a few moments before stepping into the hot water, skin prickling pleasantly at the warmth. Lan Wangji waited for him there already, eyes closed as he relaxed into the water, skin rosy with the heat. He didn't appear to have noticed Wei Wuxian about to join him, so he decided to maintain the advantage and sneak up on his husband and scare him a little.

However, though he waddled soundlessly into the water, he found himself hoisted into Lan Wangji's arms just before he pounced - all while Lan Wangji's eyes remained closed.

"I thought you fell asleep! Here I was trying to scare you, and you ruined it!"

Lan Wangji cracked an eye open. "I could pretend to be scared now."

Wei Wuxian leaned against his husband's chest, laughing. "We both know you're a terrible actor, Lan Zhan."

"Mn..."

A few moments of comfortable silence followed, the two sharing an embrace in the quiet space. Wei Wuxian's eyes drifted towards the sky again, taking in the multitude of stars.

"Lan Zhan."

"Hm?"

"When I was little, there was a legend I heard in Lotus Pier, about the stars in the night sky. It was said that the stars above are people that died but that did not want to leave their loved ones behind. So, the gods turned them into stars, so they could watch over the earth. And if you ever miss someone that's gone, you can talk to the stars and maybe your loved one is there and they'll hear you..."

Lan Zhan opened his eyes, looking to the stars himself. He had talked to them many times, but not in a tender way - he had raged to the heavens about his fate, about Wei Ying's, about A-Yuan's. He had asked why such a good man had to die in such a gruesome way, why nobody could see the truth the way he did.

He had been angry, resentful, grieving - never had it ever crossed his mind to try and seek Wei Ying among the stars. He should have, if anybody deserved to live on into the heavens, it was him. Still, Lan Zhan could only be glad he hadn't, returning instead on earth, to him.

"I've been thinking a lot about Mo Xuanyu recently... I've been having these dreams that I think were his, and it's... difficult."

Lan Zhan ran his fingers through the ends of Wei Ying's hair, watching the strands dance into the water as he let go. Then, cupping some of the warm water in his palm, he gently wet Wei Ying's back, warming up the drying skin.

"I think... based off these dreams and what I remember reading in the notes I found in that shack at the Mo manor, that Mo Xuanyu wasn't a man, or at least didn't feel like one. There was makeup on my face when I woke up, and I also found some tattered clothes that I didn't think much of at the time, but now I think they were parts of dresses...I keep dreaming about being made fun of, hiding something important, feeling out of place..."

There was a pause yet again, and Lan Zhan found himself wanting to leave a kiss on Wei Ying's forehead. "You are feeling troubled by this knowledge."

"Yeah, but it's not - I don't have any problem with that, you know, I just don't know how to refer to... him? her? Them? I'm one of the very few people that still remember Mo Xuanyu and probably the only one that tries to honor their memory. And I feel like I've been disrespectful of them in many ways, even just by referring to them as a man..."

"I think they would understand. They did not reveal that information to you right away, either." Lan Zhan replied, after a long moment. "They simply summoned you with a purpose, and allowed you to live in their body as you please after that purpose has been fulfilled. But, of course, we must be mindful to refer to them in a more respectful way now that we know of this facet of their identity."

"Yeah... I just hope they didn't get too upset about being referred to as someone they were not." Wei Wuxian's eyes flitted to the sky again. "Wherever they may be."

[hoshi-no-majo]

Episode 4 - Fault Lines

(Halo Fontaine drifts weightlessly in a nebula of swirling stardust, cradling a new glowing orb. Within it, the faint flicker of city lights, sirens, tendrils, and fire dance across his palms.)

"Ah… welcome back, traveler. I see curiosity still burns bright in you. Good."

(His eyes shimmer as the orb shifts, casting flickering shadows across his celestial face.)

"Last we met, a simple night out unraveled into madness. Juelz—our grounded, guarded friend—was snatched away by cultists praising a one-eyed eldritch god. And dear Omari? Shaken, jobless, spiraling... and still he charged into the dark without hesitation to find his friend. That's the thing about him. Even when everything breaks, he still tries to hold others together, Courageous isn't it?"

(The orb flashes blood-red and violet—flashes of spells, hexes, screams, and shattered summoning circles.)

"And just when it seemed all hope was swallowed, another person stepped into the mix—The Blood-Hunter. Mysterious. Dangerous. Surprisingly...Western. Funny how fate tosses us allies in dire situations, especially ones who can manipulate blood and cast magic."

(Halo gently turns the orb, now flickering with political banners and storm clouds.)

"Meanwhile, Berlin Love’s campaign climbs higher—and so do the stakes. Protests rise. Enemies gather. The shadows grow bold. The world is watching."

(His smile curls, knowing and unreadable.)

"And now? Now the real fun begins."

— Halo Fontaine, your guide between stars… and cult-survivor support groups 🌌🩸

The early morning light crept through the blinds, casting thin lines across the quiet room. Juelz was woken up by a stray beam of sunlight flashing in his eye, his body ached from the weight of everything was starting to settle in. Juelz hated mornings, he hated being woken up by the sun and he hated having his sleep interrupted. It reminded him of his days back at the institute, where Professor Xavier would wake him and his classmates up for early drill training in the danger room at the crack of dawn or when Hank McCoy was instructed to teach and he wanted to do early morning lectures about world history.

The previous night had been a chaotic blur—dancing, drinking, fighting off kidnappers in the bathroom one moment and chained to a wall getting prepared to be sacrificed the next. Not exactly how he’d imagined the guy's night would end, but with Omari, nothing usually goes as planned.

It felt like a fever dream he couldn't shake off, he and Omari had barely made it out unscathed. With a groan, he sat up, rubbing his temples, trying to shake off the lingering fatigue.

While he was sitting up and getting himself together. he didn't notice the man sitting in the brown recliner chair that was next to the window.

"Glad to see you're finally up," the man expressed, closing his book, The thing by Alan Dean Foster. "How you feelin'?" he asked as gets up from his chair slowly making his way towards Juelz.

Juelz was concerned but he refused to let his face show it. "A bit sore but I'll live." he responded with a bit of caution. "Who are you anyway, are you a doctor?" he asked, trying to figure the man out.

"Not a doctor, just a man who knows how to patch up a wound or two," he responded as he took the IVs out of Juelz's arm. "Names Herschel, and your friend over there was determined to get you out of that situation no matter what. the least I could do was bring you back to my place and patch you both up." he explained pointing at Omari.

As he looked over he saw Omari passed out on the neighboring bed, completely dead to the world as he snored and droll drench his pillow. Even with a shar pei puppy doing its best to wake him by licking his face, Omari didn't budge.

Juelz rolled his eyes and snorted from the puppy trying to wake up Omari. He got out of bed and stretched a bit trying to relieve some of the pain in his body. "Thanks for everything, we appreciate it,"

"Thank nothing of it, least I could do." the man expressed with a southern drawl. "I don't have many guests over but if you want I was going to fix breakfast. Your choice if you want to stay or not."

Juelz wanted to politely decline and just grab Omari and head back to his house so he could get out of his dirty club attire, shower, and unwind, hoping to get his mind together. Before he could say no his stomach was beginning to growl, starting to remember he hadn't eaten anything before they got to the club and he was absolutely starving. Against his better judgment he responded with an ok to the man's offer.

"Biscuit, come on now. Let him rest," he hollered trying to get the puppy's attention. The puppy stopped for a second and went back to trying to wake up the young man who was passed out by gnawing on his black and purple hair.

"Suit yourself," Herschel responded as he made his way to the door. "If you have any questions about last night ask Omari to give you the gist on the situation and I'll clear some other stuff for you later when you both come down." he said as he walked down the stairs.

Juelz was fairly annoyed by the man's response, he didn't understand why he didn't just tell him what happened but he didn't care, he didn't have the energy to argue and just wanted to eat and leave as fast as they could.

He looked over to see his phone buzzing on the nightstand, and he picked it up to see several missed calls from Omari’s mom and text asking are they ok and asking what's going on. “Great,” he muttered, realizing he'd need to explain why her son hadn't been answering her calls.

Juelz wasn’t the type to panic in uncomfortable situations, but the past few days had pushed his patience and his nerves.

Juelz let out an exasperated sigh as he made his way over to Omari's bed, scooping up the wrinkled Shar-Pei puppy and ruffling its ears. "Alright, little guy, you're not getting through to him. Looks like it's my turn."

With a sharp tug, he yanked the covers off Omari, who groaned in protest but still didn’t move much. "Get the hell up," Juelz said, his voice carrying both concern and frustration.

Omari blinked up at him groggily, clearly disoriented. "What time is it?" he mumbled, his voice muffled by the pillow.

"It’s 10 AM," Juelz replied, his eyes narrowing. "And your mom’s been blowing up my phone, wondering where the hell we are."

Juelz couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped. "Yeah, well, you almost were last night. Get up. We need to figure out what we're telling her."

Omari sat up wiping the new dry and crusted drool from his cheek. He grabbed his phone trying to swipe it but felt nothing but glass glide across his thumb. "Shit," he shrieked as he quickly dropped his phone on the bed. expecting his thumb hoping no glass shards got in his finger.

"That explains why she's been calling my phone. I'm guessing this happened last night?" Juelz asked.

Omari, now fully awake from the shock of the cool glass against his fingertips, blinked before shrugging. "Oh yeah, that bat-demon-cult guy slammed me into a wall, so I blew his legs off. We both took a nosedive from the sky, and I guess I landed on my phone in the process."

He said it like it was nothing—like he was recounting an annoying inconvenience instead of a near-death experience.

Juelz was lost for words from his friend's statement, demon bat's and him blowing it legs off? He knew he had to inform Ms. Jamila that they both were ok but his mind was now plagued with the thought of just one thing. What the hell happened at the club that night. Juelz sat down on his side of the bed placing the puppy who was now feeling sleepy into his lap. "What happened last night?" he asked in a serious tone. "And how were you able to blow up his legs?"

Omari began to explain everything to Juelz of what happened when he left to go to the bathroom. He told him how he went up the bar to flirt with Herschel, how Herschel left him at the bar because he saw something weird, how he got fired from his job when he went outside and he saw his text, and how he went looking for him when he didn't answer his calls. How also went into detail about his indigo power manifested in him to help get through the secret room to go find him. 

Juelz was steadily processing all the information that was thrown to him. So much had happened when he was fighting those two strangers in the bathroom but he didn't think things would get this out of hand when he left Omari by himself. He wanted to continue to be the big brother figure he needed to help guide him in the right direction but in that moment he was a bit overwhelmed and lost for words.

While Juelz was trying to catch his thoughts Omari blurted out the words, "I think I'm a mutant Juelz," sounding a bit uneasy. 

It took Juelz a minute to completely process everything Omari told him but he was able to finally gather his thoughts. 

Juelz stared at him for a moment, the words hanging heavy between them. He blinked, trying to absorb everything Omari had said. The supernatural powers, the cult, the fighting—it was all wild enough. But now, Omari was suggesting something even more life-altering.

"You think you're a mutant?" Juelz repeated slowly, his voice calm but laced with concern. He paused, his eyes narrowing as he tried to gauge how Omari felt about the idea. The room was silent, save for biscuit snuffling in his lap.

"Yeah... I don't know," Omari admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "It happened so fast. That energy... It felt like something else, but I knew it came from me. I could feel it."

Juelz took a deep breath, gently setting the sleepy biscuit on the side of him. "Omari, I need you to listen to me," he began, his tone firmer now. "I already knew you were a mutant."

Omari blinked, shock rippling across his face. He tried to hide his growing frustration, but it was there. "You knew?" he asked, his voice low.

Juelz nodded. "At the hospital, when you were unconscious, your powers were going haywire. You broke lights, computers caught on fire, and your body was phasing through the stretcher."

"Why didn’t you tell me?" Omari asked, his voice tense.

"There wasn’t a good moment to tell you," Juelz replied, his expression serious. "People are harassing you online, your dad’s gearing up for his campaign, and you were already dealing with enough. I didn’t want to add more to your plate." He sighed, his voice carrying a weight of concern. "I just didn’t want to make things worse for you."

Omari felt a surge of frustration but knew deep down Juelz had a point. If he’d known earlier, with everything going on, he didn’t know how he would’ve handled it. Still, it didn’t make the sting any easier.

Juelz met his friend’s eyes, steady but serious. "Look, if you really are a mutant, you're going to have to learn to control it. Powers like that don’t just show up without consequences." He leaned forward, his voice dipping low. "You’ve seen what happens when mutants lose control—when I couldn’t control myself. You don’t want to end up in that situation."

Omari exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "I think I’ll be okay," he said, though there was uncertainty in his voice. "Herschel’s a mutant too and he offered to help train me. He said he could help me figure things out."

Juelz’s expression darkened. "Herschel?! You’re going to trust some guy we barely know to help you with something you don’t even understand?" His voice rose slightly. "That’s not a smart move, Omari. You don’t even know what he’s really about."

Omari clenched his jaw, growing defensive. "And what’s your alternative? Tell my dad? The same guy whose x-gene gave me these powers in the first place?" He scoffed, looking away. "I didn’t ask for any of this, and I’m sure as hell not asking him to help me."

Juelz frowned, catching the resentment in Omari’s eyes. He hadn’t expected Omari to turn his anger toward Berlin. "That’s not fair, man. Your dad didn’t know. He couldn’t have."

Omari’s frustration flared. "That’s bullshit Juelz!” he responded with anger in his eyes and his fist balled up. “he could’ve done more! He could’ve taken me to that mutant school, figured out if I had that x-gene. He could’ve warned me, prepared me, something! Instead, lied to me and didn't tell me he's a mutant and hoped I wouldn’t get it." His voice grew louder, his emotions spilling out. "I’m probably the reason my job went up in flames in the first place. Hell, I was probably the one who caused that earthquake at the protest!"

His voice echoed in the room, and suddenly the air seemed to hum with energy. Indigo sparks crackled in the air, swirling chaotically. “I had been in pain from these stupid mind numbing headaches for years now! And not once did he think ‘Oh maybe we should take him to see the man in the wheelchair’, As of right now, fuck him!” he shouted, the ground trembled beneath their feet, and the heart monitor nearby cracked. Biscuit barked frantically, and Juelz quickly scooped him up, trying to calm him down.

Omari caught himself, sitting back down and forcing his breathing to slow. The energy around them gradually subsided, the ground settling. He rubbed his temples, exhausted.

Juelz, still holding biscuit, looked at Omari with a mixture of concern and frustration. "Look, yelling at each other isn’t going to solve anything. Especially trying to figure out what happened last night and why," he said, his voice calmer now. "Let’s take a break. We’ll talk about all of this after breakfast."

Omari nodded, still shaken but grateful for the reprieve. "Yeah… you’re right. I’m starving anyway."

They both stood up and headed toward the hallway. The house around them was grand, like something out of a Victorian movie, but with modern touches. As they descended the stairs, the rich smell of sizzling ham and eggs grew stronger, cutting through the lingering tension between them. The ornate banister gleamed under the soft light filtering through the large windows. The house had an almost eerie charm, like something out of a different era, yet it still felt lived-in—warm, even.

Omari ran a hand through his messy hair, his mind still reeling from everything he had just admitted. He wasn’t sure how to feel. The relief of finally telling Juelz he was a mutant was overshadowed by the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He knew Juelz was right to be cautious about Herschel, but it wasn’t like he had a ton of options. And involving his father... that felt like a whole different problem he wasn’t ready to face.

Juelz, walking just ahead, glanced back over his shoulder. He could sense Omari’s turmoil even without saying a word. That burst of indigo energy was a warning sign. His friend was spiraling, and if they didn’t get a handle on it soon, things could get out of control—fast.

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, the sound of sizzling food could be heard from the nearby kitchen. They turned a corner and found Herschel standing at the stove, with his back to them. He looked more at ease than he had the night before, humming softly to himself as he stirred the pan.

"Mornin’," Herschel greeted without turning around. His southern drawl rolled out as smooth as the butter he was using. "Hope y’all are hungry. Figured you could use a good meal after... Well, last night."

“Good Mornin’,” Omari responded back, putting on a smile to mask the storm of emotions brewing inside him. “Man, I’m honestly starving.”

Juelz eyed Herschel warily, still uncertain about the man’s intentions. "Thanks for breakfast," he said curtly, he placed the biscuit on the couch in the parlor room and stepped into the kitchen and took a seat at the dining room table.

Omari slid into the chair next to him, the aroma of food making his stomach growl. Despite the weight of everything that had happened, his body still reminded him he hadn’t eaten since before the club.

“I’m no master chef, but I know my way around a stove.” Herschel responded. "Y’all like eggs scrambled or fried?" He asked, turning briefly to look at them with a raised brow.

"Scrambled," Omari answered, glancing at Juelz.

"Sunny side up," Juelz muttered, his arms crossed, still not fully relaxing in the presence of their host.

Herschel turned back to the stove, grabbing another pan for the eggs. "Glad to see you both still kickin’ and breathin’," he said after a moment, his tone casual but layered with meaning. "Could’ve gone a lot worse."

Omari shot Juelz a look before answering. "Yeah, about that... Herschel, I need to know something." His voice was more controlled now, but the tension hadn’t completely disappeared. "What was that cult all about? And why were you down there in the first place?”

Herschel kept his back to them, working at the stove, the sizzle of eggs filling the brief silence. His posture stiffened slightly at Omari’s question, though he tried to keep his tone light. "I told you Omari, I’m a demon hunter," he said, flipping the eggs in the pan. "Gotta keep an eye on places like that. Sometimes, things get... messy."

Juelz leaned forward, arms still crossed over his chest. "Messy doesn’t exactly cut it," he said, his voice low but firm. "A demonic cult, missing mutants, corpses everywhere... that’s more than just ‘messy.’ What were you really doing down there?"

Herschel sighed, clearly not in the mood to be interrogated. He grabbed two plates and began piling eggs and ham onto them. "Y’all ask a lotta questions before breakfast." He turned and set the plates down in front of them, giving Juelz a sidelong glance. "Look, I just told you what I am. Ain’t no secret. But sometimes it ain’t good to know too much. Y’all barely made it out alive last night. Be grateful for that."

Omari, sensing the rising tension, hesitated before speaking again. "I get that, Herschel, I do... but we need to know what happened that night. That wasn’t just a random fight at the club." He looked to Juelz for support, and Juelz gave a slight nod before pressing again.

"You didn’t answer my question, what were you really doing down there? You showed up out of the blue, magically rescued us, and now you’re offering to help train him?" Juelz’s eyes narrowed, his voice steady but clearly suspicious. "Seems too convenient."

Herschel gave a short, dry laugh as he flipped the remaining eggs onto his own plate. "Convenient?" He sat down at the table with them, his eyes locking onto Juelz’s. "I hope you’re not assuming I had anything to do with the club getting attacked.” He responded with an attitude. “I didn’t drag you into anything. That club���s been on my radar for weeks. I heard mutants were going in and not comin’ out. I tried to send your friend back upstairs but he was too stubborn to do so, I didn’t expect to be saving your skins, but here we are."

Juelz, unfazed by Herschel’s tone, leaned forward, his arms resting on the table. "And you didn’t think to mention any of this when I first saw you? You expect us to believe you’re just doing this out of the kindness of your heart?"

Omari glanced between the two men, tension hanging thick in the air. He could feel the weight of Herschel’s irritation growing with every word, and Juelz wasn’t backing down either. The moment they shared at the bar played back in Omari’s mind—the way Herschel had looked out for him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story.

Herschel paused, his fork midway to his mouth. His eyes flicked over to Omari, then back to Juelz. He set the fork down slowly and leaned back in his chair, clearly weighing his next words carefully. "Alright," he said, his voice heavy with reluctance. "There’s been a spike in demonic activity in D.C., Maryland, and Virginia. At first, it was random. Demons attackin’ anyone they could, just stirrin’ up chaos. But lately? They’ve been targeting mutants. Mutants, and anyone close to ‘em."

He glanced up at Herschel, the confusion and concern evident on his face. "Why mutants?" Omari asked quietly, his voice soft but filled with unease. He struggled to make sense of it. "Out of everyone they could go after... why us?"

Herschel’s eyes flickered over to Omari, sensing the weight behind the question. He took a slow breath before answering. "Could be a lot of reasons, kid," he said, his voice losing some of its earlier edge. "Power, fear... or maybe it’s ‘cause someone’s pullin’ strings from behind the scenes. Mutants ain’t exactly loved by everybody. Makes ‘em easy targets."

Omari swallowed hard, trying to digest the implications. Juelz watched him closely, the sharp suspicion still lingering on his face but softened by the concern for his friend.

Herschel gave a slight shrug and picked at his food, shooting a look between Omari and Juelz. “What I do know is, things are escalating. And that club? It’s just like the fallin’ of small stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains. I was investigating it after hearing about the disappearances.” He shot a cold look at Juelz. “That’s why I was there.”

Omari frowned, his mind going back to the carnage they’d found beneath the club. "That explains all the blood and corpses."

"Mhm," Herschel muttered, not bothering to sugarcoat it as he took a bite from his food.

Juelz wasn’t satisfied, his expression remained unchanged but his voice was steady and firm. "That still doesn’t explain why you offered to train him."

Herschel met Juelz’s gaze head-on, irritation flashing briefly across his face. "Because he needs it. Mutant gifts don’t just stay dormant. They’ll keep growin’ until they tear him apart. I’ve seen it happen. I can help him learn how to control it before it controls him."

Juelz’s gaze was steady, unblinking. “What’s in it for you?”

The air in the room grew heavier as the two men stared each other down. Herschel’s patience was clearly wearing thin. "What’s in it for me?" he repeated, his voice low and calm, but with a dangerous edge creeping in. His jaw tightened briefly before a smirk curled around his lips. "You know, I pride myself on my patience, but you’re workin’ my last good nerve, boy. I don’t owe you any more explanations. I invite you into my home, patch up your wounds, and now you’re interrogating me like I’m some sorta criminal." He leaned forward, his tone sharpening. "I’m offerin’ help because I don’t like seein’ folks struggle with things they don’t understand. If you don’t like it, you’re free to walk out that door. But Omari needs guidance. I’m offering to help, so don’t let your li’l smart-ass mouth write a check you clearly can’t cash."

The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Omari shifted in his seat, sensing the hostility building between them. He cleared his throat, trying to break the standoff. “Herschel…” he started carefully, his voice steady but cautious. “I appreciate the offer, I really do, but let me think it over for a bit. This is all still new to me, and I’ve got a lot to process.”

Herschel exhaled, his annoyance still simmering beneath the surface. "Suit yourself," he muttered, picking up his fork again.

Juelz clenched his jaw, still not convinced. There was something about Herschel that kept nagging at him, an unease he couldn’t quite shake. But for now, he gritted his teeth and picked up his fork, forcing himself to focus on his now-lukewarm meal. The silence that followed was tense, but no longer as suffocating. Omari picked at his food, doing his best to ease the awkwardness hanging in the air.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, the early morning sun filtered softly through the curtains of the guest bedroom, casting a warm glow over the room. Berlin stirred under the sheets, the soothing sounds of Jill Scott’s He Loves Me (Lyzel in E Flat) playing from somewhere nearby, the rich melody filling the quiet space. The soft sound of water cutting off from the adjacent bathroom caught his attention. Blinking groggily, He sat up, the soulful voice pulling him from his slumber. He glanced around the guest bedroom until his gaze landed on his wife, Jamila, standing by the dresser as she scrolled through her phone. 

The sight of her made him pause, his eyes open wider as he marveled at her beauty. Even after all these years, Jamila still left him speechless like the first time they met. She was, as always a vision—strong, graceful, and entirely captivating. The towel hugged her body as water droplets traced the soft curves of her body, her skin glistening in the morning light—warm, radiant. She was everything to him, a perfect blend of strength and tenderness. Breathtaking, he thought. To Berlin, Jamila was his world, and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Without a word, he slipped out of bed, padding across the room to where she stood. He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her in close, his hands resting on the curve of her stomach. He pressed soft kisses to the back of her neck, inhaling the familiar, comforting scent of honey on her skin.

“Hey, baby,” he murmured against her neck, his voice low and affectionate. “Are you heading to work?”

Jamila sighed, leaning back into his embrace as she place her phone down on the dresser. She placed her hands on top of his, caressing it gently. “Yeah, the school called asking me to come in. And Reverend Malik also wants to talk about the worship walk too,” she said softly, “He wants to show solidarity for mutants and get the community involved.” She paused, her voice betraying a hint of concern. “But I was just checking in on Mari… I’ve been calling his phone all morning, and it's been going straight to voicemail. Juelz hasn’t picked up either.” 

Berlin frowned slightly, hearing the worry in her voice. He always hated seeing her upset, especially when it came to their kids. He tightened his hold on her, pressing another kiss to her neck. “Aww, my sweet Lullaby,” he whispered in her ear, using the nickname that always made her smile. “They’re probably still sleeping. You know how Mari is, he probably didn’t go to sleep until early in the morning. They’re probably knocked out sleep, don’t worry, they’ll call soon.”

Jamila leaned her head back against his chest, sighing softly. Her worry easing but not fully disappearing. “I don’t know Breezy…something feels off. Maybe I should swing by and check on him before work.”

Berlin turned her around gently, cupping her face in one hand while resting his other on her waist as he met her gaze. His eyes were soft, full of warmth and reassurance. “You’re stressing yourself out, Lullaby. Mari’s a grown man, he’s able to take care of himself. And Juelz isn’t gonna let nothing happen to him. You just gotta trust that. They’ll be alright.”

Jamila smiled faintly, though the concern hadn’t left her eyes, but she knew Berlin was right. She always appreciated how he could calm her, even when her mind was racing. “You’re probably right…” She said quietly, her fingers tracing light circles on his chest.

Berlin grinned, tilting her chin up slightly with his finger. “Course I’m right. I’m always right.” He teased softly, as he winked at her playfully. “Now come back to bed. You’ve got a little time before you head out, and I could use some more time with my Lullaby.”

Jamila rolled her eyes, a small smile playing on her lip. “Breezy, you’re impossible, you know that?”

“I know,” he said with a grin, pulling her closer. “You love it, though,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. “C’mon…let me remind you just how much.”

She chuckled softly, the warmth of his embrace and the gentle persuasion in his voice melting away the last of her worries. “Lord, help me,” she whispered, her hands resting on his chest. “Fine, but you better make it worth my while.”

Berlin’s grin widened, his eyes gleaming with playful mischief. “Oh, I plan to, baby. I plan to.” His voice dropped to a playful whisper. 

He kissed her deeply, his hand sliding around her waist as he guided her back towards the bed, Jill Scott’s soothing voice still filling the air as the morning sun bathed the room in a golden light.

After the loving moment the couple shared, Berlin got up quietly, leaving Jamila to rest a bit longer while he made his way to the kitchen. He knew exactly how to get her day started right—her favorite Green omelet with fresh vegetables and a side of citrus tea. As Jamila finished getting dressed for work, Berlin handed her the plate, kissing her cheek gently. “Thanks, Starlight,” she said with a warm smile, sipping the tea.

Berlin followed her to the front door, watching as she grabbed her purse and work bag. “Have a great day, Love,” he called playfully smacking her on the behind as she stepped out.

Jamila chuckled, blowing her loving husband a kiss. “I always do,” she teased, before getting into her car. Berlin caught the air-kiss dramatically, placing it over his heart. I hate to see her go, but I love watching her leave, he thought with a grin, admiring the view as she drove down the ranch road heading into the city.

As he stood on the porch, savoring the peaceful morning, a chuckle could be heard coming from behind him. “Smooth, very smooth,” Monet teased. As she descended down the stairs from the guest room. “I see now why Jamila stays around—you’re a charmer, Breezy.” 

Berlin turned with a smirk, watching as Forge emerged from the basement guest room, shaking his head with a grin. “He’s gotta keep her on her toes, Monet, wouldn’t want to see him in the dog house,” Forge added, laughing as he joined them. “Smart man.”

Berlin laughed along with them, shrugging playfully. “If my baby is happy, I'm happy,” he said, flashing a grin as he stepped back inside. “How’s the old saying go, happy wife, happy life. And I make my Jamila very happy.”

Monet and Forge exchanged amused glances before following Berlin into the dining room into the dining room, where the kitchen already smelled of fresh coffee and toast. As the three of them settled around the table, one by one, other members of the Mutant Empowerment Coalition (MEC) began to wake up and join them. Prodigy, Alisa Tager, Trinary, and Cypher filed in, grabbing something to eat as they exchanged morning greetings.

Once everyone had their breakfast, Prodigy cleared his throat to get their attention. “Alright, folks. We’ve got a lot on our plate today, so let’s get straight to it.” He glanced at Berlin. “With the senate election in Maryland happening on November 5, we’re three months out. That’s not a lot of time, and starting this late puts us at a major disadvantage. But… I’ve been doing the calculations and we might actually have a chance to win this.”

Trinary nodded, leaning forward. “Exactly. Based on the data Cypher and I collected from social media analytics, voter sentiment polls, and public forums, the leading candidates are Damien Ortega for the Democratic Party, Larry Hogan for the Republicans, Angela Alsobrooks for the Democratic, and… Lucas Wraith for the Republicans.” She paused, eyes narrowing slightly at the mention of Wraith. “Angela seems to be nearly guaranteed a seat, but the competition between Lucas Wraith and Larry Hogan is close. The public is split between them.”

Cypher, who had been quietly listening, spoke up next. “This might be the best time to target the undecided voters. Wraith is pulling voters in with fear-mongering and anti-mutant sentiments, but there’s a growing group of people looking for real solutions. If we position Berlin as a unifying force, for mutants and those who are actually wanting to see change, we could sway a good portion of that undecided vote.”

Berlin listened intently, his expression thoughtful. He knew they were facing tough competition, but hearing the specifics from Trinary and Cypher gave him a clearer picture of the political landscape. He nodded, encouraging them to continue.

Monet crossed her arms, her tone pragmatic. “This is the first time a mutant is running for a seat in the U.S. Senate. Our odds are low, but they’re not zero. If we play this right, we have a shot. Mutants across the country are going to be watching, and we’ve got the chance to set a new precedent here.”

Alisa Tager chimed in next, her voice firm. “We’ve also set up a rally in Capitol Hill later this afternoon. The major news outlets, CNN, ABC, and MSNBC will all be there to cover the big announcement. Monet’s will be accompanying you as well, she’s going to give a brief speech on why she’s supporting you, Berlin. Her influence with the St. Croix Foundation could pull in voters from the business and philanthropic sectors. This will be a major opportunity to build momentum before the campaign really kicks off."

Berlin leaned back in his chair, his hands resting on the table. His gaze moved across the room, taking in the determination on his team’s faces. They had their work cut out for them, but they had the right pieces in place. He gave a small nod, acknowledging their input.

“Y’all have done some good work,” Berlin said, his tone thoughtful but serious. “We’re up against some big names, but Lucas Wraith... he’s the real threat. If he gets elected, mutants' lives will be in danger and so will anyone who’s allied with us. We can’t let him win over those undecided voters. Trinary, Cypher—keep pulling data from those forums, track the conversations people are having about these candidates.”

He paused, turning to Monet. “Your speech is gonna be key, Monet. You know how to talk to the press, and the St. Croix name still carries weight. Let’s use that to our advantage. And Prodigy, keep laying out strategies for the upcoming debates. I need to know where each of these candidates stand so I can hit back hard when the time comes.”

The room fell silent for a moment as everyone absorbed Berlin’s words. This campaign was bigger than any of them—it was about showing the world that mutants had a place in politics, in leadership, and in shaping the future.

Berlin leaned forward, a determined look in his eye. “We’ve got three months. Let’s make ‘em count.”

After their meeting, the team got straight to work, the team dispersed to their assignments. Monet retreated to the porch, reviewing her speech for the rally, while Forge and Alisa prepped Berlin in the dining room, firing off mock questions the press might ask him during the rally. Each answer Berlin gave was strong, confident, but the looming challenge of Lucas Wraith and his growing support was heavy in the air.

Meanwhile, Prodigy sat at his laptop in the study, researching different areas in Prince George’s County where Dream-Eater could visibly help out the community, showing how Berlin was already making a difference. The goal was to highlight Berlin as someone who wasn’t just talking but taking real action.

As the time for Dream-Eater’s rally approached, the house was suddenly filled with a pinging sound from multiple devices. Trinary, standing near the kitchen, furrowed her brow as she checked her tablet. “Hey, everyone! Come here quick, you need to see this!” she called out, her tone laced with urgency.

The rest of the team quickly gathered in the living room. Trinary tapped a few commands on her tablet, pulling up a live news broadcast on the flat-screen TV. “Social media is blowing up about a new act Lucas Wraith just announced at his rally,” she explained, confusion evident in her voice. “Something about ‘Links Across Liberty’? It’s trending everywhere, but... none of this was on the radar before now.”

Berlin frowned, leaning forward in his seat. “He must be throwing something out last minute, trying to stir things up.”

Trinary nodded. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

The TV flickered to life as the camera cut to Wraith at his podium, speaking in that calm, measured tone that drew in so many voters. as he stood on a stage in front of a cheering crowd, the American flag fluttering behind him. “Citizens of Maryland,” Wraith began, his voice full of charm, “we live in uncertain times. And in times like these, it’s up to leaders like me to ensure the safety of all citizens—human and mutant alike.”

Monet raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Here comes the sweet talk before the knife.”

The camera cut to a news reporter who stood at the side of the stage. She gestured for attention before stepping closer to Wraith, holding out a microphone. “Mr. Wraith, can you elaborate on the specifics of the ‘Links Across Liberty’ legislation? What exactly are you proposing?”

Wraith flashed a practiced smile, leaning into the microphone. ��Absolutely. First and foremost, this legislation is about transparency and security. It’s time we reinstate a system of registration for all mutants—Senator Robert Kelly initially proposed this years ago, and I believe it’s time to reinstate this mandatory registration. We the people need to know who the threats are, what abilities they possess, and where they are located. This ensures that both humans and mutants are protected from any potential danger.”

Cypher scoffed at the idea. “Protected? From who? Us?”

“The reporter pressed on, “Mr. Wraith, critics say that such a registration could lead to segregation or even imprisonment of mutants. How do you respond to that concern?”

Wraith’s expression softened with what appeared to be empathy. “I understand the concerns. But let me be clear: this isn’t about locking anyone away. It’s about ensuring that mutants who may struggle to control their powers can be given the guidance they need, under government supervision, of course. We would provide government-run facilities where they can be monitored, guided, and eventually re-integrated into society when they’ve proven they are no longer a danger. We want to help them—not punish them. These facilities will provide oversight and rehabilitation where it’s needed.”

Monet rolled her eyes. “Facilities? Call them what they are: cages.”

Prodigy, who had been scanning social media reactions, nodded. “He’s framing it like it’s for everyone’s benefit. Rehabilitation... oversight. People will buy it if they’re scared enough.”

The reporter continued to question Wraith. “Some are concerned about the ethical implications of forcing mutants into these ‘facilities.’ How do you respond to that?”

Wraith’s face grew more serious. “I understand the hesitation, but what we’re talking about here is a matter of national security. If someone possesses the power to level a building with a single thought, we need to ensure those abilities are being controlled.”

 “What about mutants with abilities that could be useful to society? What role do they play in your vision?”

Wraith didn’t miss a beat. “Ah, yes. For mutants with skills and abilities that could serve the greater good, we’ll offer opportunities for them to contribute—under the proper supervision, of course. These individuals could be a vital part of keeping our nation safe.”

Forge, leaning against the wall, shaking his head in disbelief. “He’s talking about forced labor. Using us like weapons.”

Monet clenched her fists. “And the public is eating this up. He’s not even trying to hide the fact that he’s proposing government control of mutants.”

Berlin stood silently, listening, his jaw clenched tight. The camera cut back to Wraith, who was now addressing the crowd again, saying something about how non-compliance would have “necessary consequences.” His words were smooth, calculated, just enough to make it sound like a rational decision for the public’s safety. It was the same way he talked about Omari framing him as a criminal for harming those disgraceful police officers. Berlin could feel his blood beginning to boil but he knew he had to calm down and not let his words get to him.

Trinary hit pause, turning to the others. “He’s walking a tightrope, but the message is clear. Mutants are dangerous, and he’s the one who can control the ‘threat.’ This is bad.”

Berlin ran a hand across his face, thinking for a moment. “He’s doing what he does best—using fear. He’s making it sound like mutants are walking disasters waiting to happen unless they’re put under control. We need to counter this narrative.”

Cypher spoke up, “He’s already trending across all the major platforms. This is going to spread fast.”

Prodigy nodded, closing his laptop. “We need to flip the script. If we push too hard, we’ll play into his hand. But if we don’t fight back at all, we’ll look like we’re hiding something.”

Berlin looked around at his team, each face set with determination. “We need to show that mutants aren’t the threat. People like Wraith are. He’s talking about locking up anyone who doesn’t play by his rules.”

Monet stepped forward, her arms crossed, a serious expression on her face. “Your rally is our best shot at turning this around. The timing couldn’t be better. We need to show the world that we’re the ones who are offering real solutions—not fear, not control.”

Berlin nodded. “Exactly. We can’t let him dominate the conversation. The focus needs to be on unity, not division. We don’t let fear dictate policy.”

With a nod, the group dispersed, ready to take action. The clock was ticking, and Wraith had made his move. Now, it was Berlin’s turn to respond. It was almost time for Dream-Eater’s rally to begin, and the team had scattered to get ready, pulling out suits, dresses, and formal wear appropriate for the occasion. Monet, Forge, and Prodigy were already discussing the finer points of the speech and the media presence, while Trinary and Cypher continued monitoring social media from their devices, making sure to keep a close eye on the pulse of public reaction. As Alisa was about to head upstairs to change, Berlin caught her arm gently, pulling her to the side. He had something urgent he had to discuss with her.

Meanwhile, across town, Omari and Juelz finally pulled up to Omari’s house after what had been an exhausting day. After calling an Uber to leave Herschel's place earlier that morning, they had gone straight to a phone store to get Omari’s shattered screen fixed. But, as expected, it took hours, leaving them both restless and bored as they waited.

Omari stepped out of the car, rubbing his eyes. "Man, I didn’t think it’d take that long just to get a phone screen fixed," he muttered, his voice tinged with exhaustion.

Juelz grunted in agreement as he followed, still visibly drained from the events that happened at the club. “At least you can actually use your phone now.”

Omari pulled the newly repaired phone from his pocket, inspecting it as they walked up the driveway. “Yeah, finally... but damn, my mom’s gonna kill me. I’ve got like 20 missed calls from her.”

Juelz snorted. “That’s gonna be a fun conversation.”

Omari groaned, his shoulders slumping. “You’re not helping, man.”

As they reached the front door and stepped inside a wave of familiarity hit both of the men. It was almost enough to make them forget about the chaos they experienced 

Juelz walked over to the couch, dropping into it with a heavy sigh. “Man, I could sleep for a week.”

Omari chuckled, tossing his keys onto the table. “Same. But I doubt I’m getting any rest once my mom hears what’s been going on.”

He plopped down beside Juelz, leaning his head back against the cushions. The weight of everything was starting to hit him—his powers, the events at the club, Herschel’s offer. It all felt like too much to process at once.

Juelz glanced at Omari from the corner of his eye, hesitating for a moment before speaking. "Hey," he began, "I just wanted to apologize about earlier. I didn’t mean to pressure you about your dad."

Omari blinked, surprised by the sudden apology. “Oh, it’s fine. Water under the bridge,” he said, though he wasn’t expecting Juelz to bring it up again. “I get why you said what you did. I know I shouldn’t be upset with him... but it’s hard. I can’t even really put it into words, but I’m just not feeling him right now.”

Juelz gave a sympathetic nod. “Yeah, family stuff’s always messy. So... what are you gonna do about your powers?”

Omari hesitated, then shot Juelz a hopeful smile. “Actually... I was thinking maybe you could teach me?”

Juelz raised an eyebrow. “no...” he trailed off, looking skeptical.

“Juelz, come on!” Omari practically whined, leaning forward.

“I’m not a teacher,” Juelz said, shaking his head. “I can't just pull a Professor X and help you figure out your powers."

"But you’ve got experience!" Omari countered. "You spent all that time at the Institute! Just remember what they taught you and help me!"

Juelz crossed his arms, clearly enjoying making Omari squirm a little. “I don’t know…” he repeated, dragging out the words with a worried look.

“Please?” Omari pleaded dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock desperation. “I’m begging you! You’re like the guy when it comes too using his powers! Just give me a little nudge.”

Juelz tried to keep a straight face but failed. “You’re really trying to butter me up, huh?”

Omari grinned. “Is it working?”

Juelz sighed, rolling his eyes. “Fine, fine! I’ll help. But I’m warning you—I’m not liable for any weird stuff that happens while you’re figuring this out.”

Omari pumped his fist in victory. “Yes! I knew you couldn’t resist!”

Juelz laughed, “Yeah, yeah, just don’t make me regret this.”

Omari chuckled at Juelz’s response, but the moment was interrupted by his phone buzzing in his hand. Glancing at the screen, he saw a text from Herschel. It read: Sorry about losing my cool earlier. I’m just not a fan of being bombarded with questions. Hopefully, you got home safely.

Before Omari could type a reply, his phone buzzed again—this time, a call from his mother. His chest tightened as he saw her name on the screen. For a brief second, he considered letting it go to voicemail, but instead, he answered, bringing the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Ma…”

There was a pause on the other end before Jamila’s familiar voice filled the line. “Omari Kwame Love! Where the hell have you been?”

Omari winced at the sound of his full name. He knew that when his mother used his full name, she was beyond furious. “Yeah, I know, Ma. I’m sorry. My phone’s been... uh, messed up, and we just got it fixed, we were at the mall all day. That’s why I haven’t called you back.”

Juelz scrunched up his face, clearly skeptical of the half-truth.

“You had me worried sick! You and Juelz better have a good reason for going radio silent!” She shouted through the phone.

“We’re fine, Ma, I promise,” Omari said, giving Juelz a look as if asking for backup. Juelz was too stunned to respond, after hearing Jamila call his name, he knew he was in the dog house as well. “Last night was crazy and…”

“I don’t care how crazy it is and I don’t care how grown you and Juelz are, I’m your mother! Talk to me! Communicate with me! If I call you, answer the phone or text me and tell me everything's ok. I shouldn’t be blowing up both y’all phones to look for y’all. Especially Juelz, he's older and he knows better!” She continued as she shouted through the phone. “You both are my kids and this world is too sick and twisted, and I’ll be damned if something happens to either of you! So where were you!”

Omari’s stomach dropped. He quickly interrupted. “Ma. I’ll explain everything when you get home. But we’re sorry. I promise.”

Jamila paused again, the silence over the line heavy. “Mhm, You better, Omari. And I mean everything.” There was a finality to her tone, but it came with an edge of understanding. “I’m needed back in the church. We’ll talk when I get there.”

“Okay, Ma. See you soon,” Omari replied, ending the call with a sigh. He leaned back into the couch, staring at the phone in his hand.

Omari and Juelz looked each other in the eyes knowing what they just unleashed. Juelz angrily gazed at Omari, before he could utter a word Julez responded, “This is the last guys night i’m doing with your ass.” Omari tried giving Juelz a hug trying to ease the mood. “Bestie…” Juelz stiffed armed him not being in the mood. “Just cut on the damn TV,”

Omari reached for the TV remote, still chuckling to himself about the phone call with his mom. He wasn’t a stranger to getting into trouble, but seeing Juelz so irritated from the mess he caused made it even funnier. He flipped through the channels, hoping to finally sit down and finish Yu Yu Hakusho. But as he scrolled through the stations, a glimpse of his father’s name flashed on the news.

“Hey, go back,” Juelz blurted out, snatching the remote from Omari before he could react.

Omari shrugged, looking slightly unfazed as the ABC news channel came back into focus. The broadcast showed a large crowd, buzzing with excitement as they waited for Dream-Eater’s rally to begin.

On screen, the camera panned across the stage, where Monet St. Croix walked out, her posture confident and regal, her face lighting up with a warm smile as she waved to the crowd.

"Thank you all for coming out today," Monet’s voice rang clear as she took her place behind the podium. "I want to take a moment to express my deepest appreciation to all of you for your unwavering support—not just for me, but for Dream-Eater and his vision for the future of this country."

The crowd cheered, some holding signs with pro-mutant messages, others simply eager to hear the rally’s message.

Monet continued, her tone filled with pride. "As a fellow mutant and member of the X-Men, I’ve had the privilege of fighting for peace and equality alongside many brave souls. We know firsthand that the road to coexistence between mutants and humans is not always an easy one. It’s a road filled with challenges, misunderstandings, and fear. But it’s also a road paved with hope."

Her words hung in the air for a moment before she went on. "Dream-Eater, as many of you know, has been one of the strongest advocates for that hope. His constant bravery, his vision of a world where humans and mutants can live together in peace, is what brings us all here today. And it's what gives us the strength to keep fighting for what’s right."

The crowd erupted into applause, but Monet held up her hand to calm them. She was just getting started.

"This isn’t just about mutants anymore," she said, her voice growing more impassioned. "This is about the soul of our nation. It’s about the future we want to leave for the next generation—for all our children, mutant or human. It’s about standing up against fear mongers, who wish to divide us, to turn fear into control, and strip away the very freedoms that this country stands for."

Monet smiled at the crowd, her eyes filled with determination. "So today, I stand here not just as an X-Man, not just as a mutant, but as someone who believes in Dream-Eater’s vision for a better tomorrow. A tomorrow where fear doesn’t define us. Where unity, strength, and understanding bring us together. And it’s time we let the world know that we will not be silenced. We will not be pushed aside. We will rise together and stand as one."

The applause that followed was deafening, with the crowd chanting Dream-Eater’s name.

Monet stepped aside, signaling the end of her speech, and the crowd buzzed in anticipation as the camera panned back to the podium, ready for Dream-Eater to make his appearance.

As Dream-Eater made his way to the podium, the crowd erupted into a chorus of cheers, chanting his name—voices rising in unison from men and women, of all ethnicities, human and mutant. What Berlin saw before him was more than just a crowd; it was hope, alive and tangible. For the first time in a long time, he knew that he didn’t need a dream to see that vision of unity come to life.

He raised his hands gently, signaling for the crowd to settle down. When the cheers finally quieted, Berlin's gaze swept over the sea of faces, his expression one of confidence and determination.

“I stand here today, looking out at all of you, and I see something they never show on the TV screens,” he began, his deep voice commanding the attention of everyone present. “They like to show division. They like to show hate, fear, and the kind of chaos that keeps us apart. But right here, right now—I see unity. I see a community, both human and mutant, coming together, demanding change.”

The crowd stirred, murmurs of agreement rippling through the audience.

“We’ve been told time and time again that change is impossible, that progress is too hard, or that the world is just too fractured to be fixed. But I don’t believe that. And you don’t believe that. You’re all here because you know what I know: that change isn’t just possible—it’s inevitable if we stand together.”

Berlin paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts before continuing.

“I’d like to take a moment to honor those who laid the groundwork for us to even be here today—those who fought when the odds were stacked against them.” He took a breath, his voice softening as he continued. “Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. taught us that nonviolent resistance is the way forward, that we can dream of a better world and fight for it without losing our humanity. Malcolm X, through his courage and unwavering dedication, showed us that sometimes, by any means necessary, we have to defend ourselves and our communities. And Ida B. Wells, a woman who fearlessly spoke truth to power, reminded us that our voices have power—even in the face of oppression.”

The crowd clapped, some raising their hands in silent applause, others nodding at the recognition of these historical figures.

“Without them—and many others—we wouldn’t be standing here today. They didn’t just fight for one group or one cause; they fought for the soul of the people. And now, it’s time for us to continue their legacy. It’s time to take those lessons from the past and march into the future united as one.”

He paused, his voice growing stronger.

“And with that, I am announcing today that I will be running for the United States Senate.”

The crowd erupted into applause, a wave of cheers and support sweeping across the audience.

Once the applause died down, Berlin continued. “I’m running because I believe we can build a future that’s fair for everyone, human and mutant alike.”

As thousands of reporters raised their hands for questions hoping to get Dream-Eater’s attention. He looked through the sea of cameras and mics and picked a random reporter coming from ABC news.“Mr. Dream-Eater, what policies will you push forward if elected? How do you plan to unite humans and mutants in your vision for the future?”

Dream-Eater gave her a nod, acknowledging the question. “That’s a great question. Let’s start with public safety and criminal justice reform,” he said, his tone serious but accessible. “We’ve all seen the rise in crime, and we know that something has to be done. I plan to push for more community policing—not just throwing more officers into the streets, but making sure that they are part of the community. We need officers who know the neighborhoods, who care about the people they’re protecting. And yes, that means modernizing the police force with things like body cameras and better training.”

“But criminal justice isn’t just about stopping crime—it’s about fairness. Too many people, especially in communities like ours, have been locked up for non-violent offenses, torn away from their families for things that don’t warrant such harsh punishments. We’re going to change that. We’re going to balance public safety with real justice.”

Another reporter chimed in. “What about education and youth development? What are your plans there?”

Dream-Eater smiled slightly, as if anticipating the question. “Education is the cornerstone of everything. Without it, there’s no future. I’m committed to increasing funding for public schools—not just to fix the infrastructure but to make sure teachers are paid what they deserve. Our kids deserve the best, and so do the educators who are shaping them.”

He paused before adding, “But there’s another aspect we can’t ignore. Mutant children, especially those with the X-gene, deserve a safe place to learn, grow, and control their powers. That’s why I’m pushing to open schools that are inclusive to mutants—places where young mutants can learn to manage their abilities and get a proper education, free from fear or discrimination.”

The crowd murmured in approval, with a few audible cheers breaking out.

Dream-Eater took a breath before continuing. “Let’s talk about jobs and the economy. I’m not here to make empty promises—I’m here to create real opportunities. That means bringing more businesses into Prince George’s County, encouraging investments in infrastructure and local industries. It means fostering job creation, especially in technology and healthcare—fields that are growing rapidly and where both humans and mutants can thrive. Everyone deserves a chance at success.”

A third reporter raised a hand, asking, “And what about racial and economic justice? How do you plan to address those disparities?”

Dream-Eater’s expression grew more somber, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “This country has a long history of systemic racism—especially in housing, education, and the criminal justice system. It’s time to end that. If elected, I’ll push to stop practices like redlining that keep minority communities trapped in cycles of poverty. We’ll invest in those communities, create opportunities for minority-owned businesses, and expand access to credit and housing.”

He continued, “But it’s not just about economic justice—it’s about ensuring that everyone has access to healthcare, regardless of race or income. No one should be denied treatment because of where they come from.”

Dream-Eater paused again, his voice rising in intensity as he approached the end of his speech.

“We’ve all lived through enough fear. Fear of mutants, fear of the unknown, fear of each other. But I’m telling you now—fear is not what defines us. Unity, strength, and understanding define us. And if we come together, not as separate groups but as one people, we can create a future where no one has to fear for their life because of who they are. Change isn’t just coming—we are that change.”

He stepped back from the podium slightly, his gaze sweeping the crowd once more. “So I say to you today—let’s not let fear and hate divide us. If we unite together, human and mutant alike, we can make real, lasting change for everyone. For our communities, for our children, and for the future.”

The crowd erupted into cheers, people rising from their seats, clapping and chanting Dream-Eater’s name once again.

Juelz leaned forward, his eyes glued to the screen, hanging on every word. A mutant running for senator? This was the first time he’d ever seen a mutant attempt to gain political power, to try and change the system from the inside. Normally, Juelz didn’t trust politicians—crooked liars full of empty promises, always pretending to help those without powers but never delivering. But this was different. Berlin wasn’t just some politician; he was someone Juelz knew personally, someone he trusted. For the first time in a long while, Juelz felt like there was a real chance for change if Berlin won.

While Juelz found himself filled with a flicker of hope, Omari sat back on the couch, his phone in hand, his expression blank. The excitement in the room, the cheers from the crowd on the TV—it all felt distant. Disconnected from the speech, Omari’s mind was elsewhere, his body leaning into the cushions as if the weight of the moment simply wasn’t sinking in.

In Downtown D.C. far removed from the optimism stirring in Juelz, the mood was far different. The air inside a private, dimly lit office was thick with tension. Lucas Wraith sat in silence, his eyes locked on the screen as Dream-Eater’s voice echoed from the speakers. The same speech that brought hope to some only ignited fury within him. The cheers of the crowd grated on his nerves, and the sight of Dream-Eater’s confident expression made his blood boil. His jaw tightened, hands curling into fists as the mutant announced his run for the Senate.

Without warning, Wraith slammed his fist onto the meeting table, the force of his rage splintering the wood beneath his hand. The section of the table cracked loudly, a sharp reminder of the fury boiling inside him.

"I can't have Dream-Eater join this election when I'm so close," Wraith hissed, his voice low but venomous. “So close to being rid of the mutant race, and now this?!” His breath came heavy as he stared at the shattered wood, his mind racing.

“The general public can’t side with him, or Links Across Liberty won’t go through,” he muttered to himself. His mind began working, gears turning as he thought through his next move. He needed a plan—something that would turn the tide back in his favor. Something that would remind the world how dangerous mutants could be.

He stood, his eyes narrowing as a dark thought crossed his mind. A plan was forming.

“Prism!” he barked.

From the shadows, a man emerged. His face was hidden behind a gleaming diamond mask, the sharp angles of it reflecting the dim light of the room. He moved with quiet precision, stepping into the room with a silent acknowledgment.

“Yes, sir,” Prism replied, his voice calm but expectant.

Lucas Wraith turned toward him, his tone cold and commanding. “Go to the lab. Take the latest batches from our experiments and find buyers. Distribute them into the streets. I want these drugs circulating in every corner of the city.”

Prism tilted his head slightly. “And when the mutations start to manifest?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

Wraith’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “Once the general public sees how uncontrollable mutant power can become—how destructive they are when pushed past their limits—they’ll beg for my legislation to pass. They'll see why we need to be rid of them.”

Prism gave a small nod of understanding. “As you wish, sir,” he said, before turning on his heel and walking back into the shadows, his figure disappearing into the darkness like a ghost.

As the sound of Prism’s footsteps faded, the room fell into silence, broken only by the faintest whisper of something inhuman. A voice, dark and malevolent, echoed behind Lucas Wraith, sending a chill through the air.

“Don’t forget about our deal,” the voice rasped, dripping with sinister intent. “If you win, you promised me hell on earth.”

Wraith didn’t flinch, his gaze hardening as he listened to the voice from the shadows. He snorted, irritated by the demon’s impatience. “Hold up your end of the bargain and kill those mutants,” he snapped. His anger flared again as he recalled the failed mission at the club. “That stunt you let those charlatans pull was a disaster—it attracted more attention and garnished more sympathy for mutants than we needed.”

The voice growled low, but Lucas continued, his tone cold and calculating. “You bring me more husks. I’ll turn them into soldiers. I need more chaos, more fear. Only then will the people truly understand the threat mutants pose.”

From the corner of the room, the demon’s presence shifted, a dark figure retreating back into the night, its part of the bargain yet to be fulfilled.

Lucas Wraith watched it go, a grim smile playing on his lips. “Soon enough,” he muttered, turning back to the shattered table. “Soon enough, everything will fall into place.”

THE END

[merakigoya]

🌟 Exciting News from Mystic Escape! Introducing the Latest Splash Art of Chibi Mainty in his Stunning Swan Cloak! 🌟

Hey there, fellow gamers and fans of Mystic Escape! Get ready to be amazed because we've got a special treat for you. Feast your eyes on the brand-new splash art featuring none other than our beloved Chibi Mainty, rocking his jaw-dropping Swan Cloak - the latest and most enchanting addition to our upcoming endless runner game!

🦢🕊️ Behold the Elegance of Chibi Mainty's Swan Cloak! 🕊️🦢

In this breathtaking artwork, Chibi Mainty takes center stage, surrounded by an ethereal aura as he dons the majestic Swan Cloak. The cloak's feathers shimmer with iridescent hues, reflecting the magical world of Mystic Escape. With each step he takes, a trail of stardust follows, creating a mesmerizing spectacle that truly captures the essence of the game.

🏃‍♂️ About Mystic Escape 🌌

For those who haven't heard, Mystic Escape is an upcoming endless runner game that will take you on a journey through mystical realms, challenging obstacles, and captivating landscapes. Our adorable protagonist, Chibi Mainty, embarks on an adventure like no other, and with the introduction of the Swan Cloak, his abilities are taken to new heights.

📢 Help Us Spread the Magic! 🌟

Do you have friends who are just as excited about Mystic Escape as you are? Spread the word by sharing this post and tagging your fellow gamers. Let's come together and make Mystic Escape a game that will leave a mark on the gaming world!

Get ready to immerse yourself in a world of wonder, magic, and endless adventure. Mystic Escape is on its way, and we can't wait for you to experience the thrill firsthand. Stay tuned, fellow adventurers!

[sonicravenx]

🔮 Step into a world where universes collide and fate intertwines, weaving a mesmerizing tale of two captivating souls. 🔮

🌟 Join Izuku Midoriya, the radiant hero with eyes that mirror galaxies, on a journey of hope and resilience. His quest is an ode to the power of dreams, leaving stardust trails in the wake of his unwavering spirit. 🌟

✨ Encounter Aether, the enigmatic traveler from the ethereal realm of Teyvat. Cloaked in mystery, they bring a touch of fantasy and secrets that defy comprehension. ✨

💫 As their paths converge, the cosmic dance of light and shadow commences, offering a symphony of contrasts that draws us into uncharted realms. 💫

🌌 Dive into the cryptic revelations of their connection, where each encounter leaves you yearning for more. Unravel the captivating story of Izuku and Aether, where fantasy and reality intertwine in the most enchanting ways. 🌌

🔗(https://archiveofourown.org/works/30998195/chapters/76565063) 🔗

🌠 Inspired by this spellbinding tale, this Tumblr post delves into the heart of their journey, where cryptic metaphors and detailed storytelling will captivate your imagination. 🌠

[20cm]

have u seen him btw. ✨❤ [src]

[witchakyeon]

Vixx Masterpost

🌌

❧ My AO3

❧ My Carrd

❧ Requests are open! You can submit requests here, or on curiouscat, and I'll get to them when I can. Please try to be as clear as possible about what you're looking for and be patient while I work on it xoxo

Projects

❧ Adore you | Multi | Ongoing

tags: polyamory, complicated relationships

Jaehwan had always been a bit theatrical. It was the Aries fire in him that craved first place in everything, to consume and be consumed at the same moment, to act first and think later. It was the fire in his eyes that kept him in trouble. The one where Jaehwan kind of fucks everything up and has to learn how to be honest with the people he loves.

❧ Bloom | Multi | Ongoing

tags: safe sane and consensual, mutual pining

The unknown excites him, even now. Hongbin has never been in a relationship. There was never enough time and he hated the idea, but he finally feels ready to grow and explore alongside someone. He convinces himself that he only has to find his partner and everything else will work out. Love is a little more complicated than that.

❧ Celestial | Hyuken | Complete

tags: rough sex, asphyxiation

Celestial (Latin): a divine or mythical being. Jaehwan had encountered thousands of creatures—angels, demons and more—during his existence, and not a single one could compare to Sanghyuk. He was so breathtaking, so entrancing without even trying that it made his heart hurt sometimes, even though they belonged to each other. Sanghyuk was mortal, but he put the moon itself to shame.

❧ Delicate | Chasangbin | Complete

tags: fluff and humor, open relationships

They could get used to this. Sanghyuk invites Hongbin to dinner at Hakyeon's apartment. The night takes an unexpected turn.

❧ Jamais Vu/Luna | Wontaek | Complete

tags: worldbuilding, human/monster romance

Taekwoon has been here before. Once upon a time, Taekwoon believed he and Wonshik were the only creature and human in a relationship. Hakyeon and Hongbin prove him wrong tenfold, and the weight of his past and reality begin to catch up with him.

❧ Makeup Drawer | Chaken | Inactive

tags: tooth-rotting fluff, secret crush

Hakyeon wondered if Jaehwan would hate him for it, for wanting to kiss him until their lips were bruised, for being unable to control himself as if he were a teenager, for having urges towards him in the first place. They were so close and yet... Hakyeon has a crush on Jaehwan. He doesn't know how to tell him because he's a little busy attempting to deny it.

❧ Moonlight Sunrise | Chabin | Complete

tags: succubi & incubi, developing relationship

Hongbin held his breath as the demon approached him, and his heart danced wildly behind his ribcage as the distance between them disappeared. His lover grabbed his waist, pulled him close, and bent down slightly to press their lips together, and Hongbin felt himself explode into a million little pieces of stardust. This was what he wanted. This was what he had been waiting all day for: an opportunity to get close to him, to stare into his moonlit eyes, to feel the rush of desire that frequently accompanied his touch, to kiss him back harder, harder, harder until he understood how much he wanted him, how much he would always want him, no matter what.

❧ Naked | Leohyuk | Complete

tags: emotional porn, established relationship

"You don’t need to apologize for your body. Anyone who cares for you will love and respect however it looks and feels." Taekwoon and Sanghyuk finally get the time alone they deserve.

❧ New Year's Day | Chasangbin | Complete

tags: holidays, fluff and smut

Hongbin feels like they have found a family where they belong, and they couldn’t be happier. The one where the holidays are better than everyone expected.

❧ Nocturne | Chabin | Complete

tags: demon & human interactions, monster fucker lee hongbin

Nocturne (Latin): a person, concept, or artwork that embodies the energy of the night, shadows, and dreams.

Hongbin didn’t know or care how many other creatures Hakyeon had brought home—he just wanted to be the one that he remembered.

❧ Strawberry | Hyuken | Complete

tags: summer romance, semi-public sex

There was one thing Jaehwan loved more than strawberries, and that was Sanghyuk. Jaehwan plans a sweet surprise for his boyfriend.

❧ Stardust | Kenbin| Ongoing

tags: fae & fairies, soulmates

"None of this is a coincidence. Since the creation of the universe, this was our destiny." Hongbin makes a wish that changes his world forever.

❧ the place i've been searching for is you | Hyuk-centric | Ongoing

tags: inspired by shangri-la (vixx), promiscuity

"the empty space inside me fills the color of you is faint and dazzling beautiful, warm, mysterious" Sanghyuk x everyone because it's what the doctor ordered!

❧ Ultraviolet | Chabin | Complete

tags: creature vixx, shameless smut

“Must have just been my imagination...” Hongbin speaks to the second full moon of the month. “My my my, little kitten, what a wild imagination you have,” Hakyeon whispers in the dark. Hakyeon interrupts Hongbin's study session in favor of a more hands-on activity.

Collections + Series

❧ Midnight (2023+2024 Prompt Collection) | Multi | Ongoing

(Yet another) strange and lovely collection of vixx shenanigans to bring in the new year

❧ Prequel | Chabin, Wontaek | Ongoing

A mini creature series leading up to my largest concept ever

❧ after all the tears, you're all i need | Chabin | Ongoing

Hongbin is a mortal, and Hakyeon is a succubus. These are the tales of how their fates intertwine

❧ Vixxtober 2022 | Multi | Complete

A Vixx version of Kinktober

❧ 2022 Prompt Collection | Multi | Complete

(Another) strange and lovely collection of vixx shenanigans to bring in the new year

❧ 2021 Prompt Collection | Multi | Complete

A collection of vixx shenanigans to bring in the new year

[thesoftdumbass]

This! Is! So! Cute!!!

I can imagine this perfectly, and in my mind Len has his puppy eyes on display as you're talking about stardust...

I love this so much 🌘❤🌌

Starlight, Star Bright (Bones x Reader Star Trek Holiday Fic Exchange!)

For: @southernbellestatues

Pairing: AOS Bones/Reader

Request: Fluffy (I made this as fluffy as possible to make peace for my lack of updates on my own stories) Bones shore leave romance

AN: Happy Holidays, darlin’! I hope you like this sweet little thing! It’s short, but I crammed as much fluff in it as I could. :)

Keep reading

[20cm]

catching up on my Have You Seen Him agenda 🌹🖤 [ crd: 1 / 2 ]

[20cm]

day 2 of asking have u seen him 🖤💜 [src]

[20cm]

he Cant keep getting away with it!!!!!! (stealing my heart)