#thank u honey!

[honeybubbletea33]

*crackles knuckles* OHH REQUESTS?? Error doing a puppet show, maybe Ink's there 2 however you would want to include them.

“Hey babe it’s time for me to put on the puppet show version of the story we have seen played out a thousand times. Yes you will fucking sit down and watch me do all the voices for the characters.”

[augustinewrites]

i cannot for the life of me find the ask, but this is what the fushigojo apartments (and house!) look like!! ps: i’ve attached the name of a song to each of the apartments that i think fits their time there!

the green tea & honey apartment

so here we have the first apartment! it’s fushigojo mom’s apartment— a cute little two bedroom close to the school. gojo doesn’t have his own place yet, and he doesn’t want to bring two zenin kids to the gojo clan, so this is the only place he considered raising them in. the kids are good at sharing a room for a while, but then they start kicking each other out of the bed in the middle of the night and are starting to need their own space, so after 2 years, they move!!

core memories in this apartment:

- trust was built here

- megumi lost his first tooth (and summoned his first shikigami! see: loose tooth)

- gojo and megumi shared their first father and son moment (see: off days)

the coming home apartment

this is the second apartment! gojo rents this place. it’s a little bigger, a little more grown up. it has three bedrooms, so the kids finally get their own! it’s a little further into the city, but closer the middle school gojo wanted to send them to. they stay here for a long time. it hosted birthday parties and sleepovers. movie nights and homework sessions. living room dancing and kitchen table bills. first fights and family meetings. i don’t know why i’m getting so emotional thinking about how much they’ve all grown here. they must have been so sad to leave it :( which they do, after about 8 years.

core memories in this apartment:

- love grew here

- megumi brought a “date” home for the first time

- fushigojo parents “breakup”

and finally, the sweet nothing home

their forever home 🫶 gojo had it built a little ways out from the city and let fushigojo mom fill it with things they love. they brought pieces of their old homes to create a place to rest, to love, to heal. the perfect balance of gojo’s unnecessary spending habits and basic practicality. it has a lot of bedrooms for all of their adopted kiddos to visit and to host their friends! there’s also a nursery 🥺

core memories built here:

- a happy ending!

[nostalgiaclown]

two bagels

[sofiarostova]

happy birthday to my favourite album of 2023🍯

[thefrogdalorian]

Live shot of me rereading my own work and realising how often I write characters experiencing horrifically vivid nightmares

[velvetsqwyrme]

continuation of this comic by @wave-nine >:]

[hon3y-cloud]

Give u a banan

Takes the banan, offers tulip!!

[knifebaby3000]

sweet ★

[hungharrington]

omg a huge congrats again on hitting 1K bae!! u deserve it sm and I'm so excited for this sleepover teehee

soooo if it tickles your fancy I figured I'd send smth in early for our communal bf steve, could be as long as u want it to be!

[ GAZING ]  receiver taking sender’s jaw and saying “look at me” during sex or foreplay.

oh and have an amazing day ofc <3

aster! thank u so much honey :') feelin v loved and im glad u were as excited as me!! here's to the communal boyf <3 enjoy <3 MDNI, fem!reader, this entire blog is 18+

You're trying not to be overwhelmed but it's a lot.

Everything feels turned up to 11; the very sound of your heartbeat in your ears, the pulse of lust that thrums through your body, the feel of Steve's cock gliding in and out of your wet heat in a deliciously slow drag. It's a lot.

You can feel yourself trembling, just a little bit, your hands around Steve's shoulders sinking tighter in their hold.

"Steve," you cry, tugging him closer. You need to hide your face away, need to have him closer, need him to go slower— no, faster. You don't know what you want, so you just press your face into his shoulder and mewl his name again. "Steve."

The sound of your slick is loud, a lewd sort of squelch as Steve fucks you into the mattress, his body pressed above yours. He's moaning lowly, one hand on your hip, one fisting the sheets beside your head. He looks fucking ethereal — hair messy and that slight flush to his face, pleasure contorting his features.

His hips meet yours in a teasing pace, deep enough to have your back arching with every thrust and yet not enough. The fire in your gut coils up tighter ever so slowly. You want- you want— you want more. But god, it's so much.

You shift your legs, sliding them up til they wrap snug around Steve's waist — you pull him closer, need him closer.

"Y'good, honey?" Steve asks, voice raspy and breathy. "My girl okay?"

His words only succeed in winding the knot in your belly tighter and you pull him closer, eyes scrunched up as you silently urge him to go faster. You're not sure if you're capable of saying anything except his name. Whiney little noises escape your mouth, chest heaving. You sound completely fucked out.

Steve's hips slow in their pace and the whine that escapes you it pitiful, your legs around his waist tightening in hopes he'll continue. You can feel Steve's tummy press against yours as he shifts closer, his hand moving to move some hair out of your face. He hasn't stopped, his hips still roll into yours, cock fucking in and out of your hot cunt, but it's tantalizingly slow.

"Hey, hey, hey," He starts, voice a low little whisper. "Lemme see your face, hmm? C'mon, look at me." His fingers move, tucking under your jaw and nudging you out from hiding away in his shoulder.

Your eyes crease open, mouth already hung open in a whimpering moan and Steve softens completely at the sight of you; his girl, all teary-eyed on his cock. He purposefully nudges his cock in deeper, his hand on his hip holding you in a place and you mewl out pathetically — Steve surging forward to capture the noise with his kiss. He stays close, forehead pressed against your own.

"Oh, baby," He coos, not unkind. He gives a sloppy kiss to your cheek at the same time his hand travels off your hips, his fingers finding your clit. You gasp into his mouth, back arching up so your tits scrape against his chest, and Steve grins. "That's it, just take it. Good fucking girl, taking what I give her, yeah?"

"Steve," you gasp, fingernails digging into his skin by now. You feel delirious, can feel the beginnings of white hot pleasure teasing at your edges.

"I know, I know," Steve murmurs sweetly, his thrusts starting to pick up the pace. The sounds of your slick mix with the slap of skin on skin as he starts to fuck properly, his fingers still dancing on your clit. You moan louder. "You just take it and feel good, mm? That's it..."

[stevebabey]

RUBY!!! Hii!! Congratulations on the follower milestone!! I am going to say this again AND AGAIN AND AGAIN but you're one of the most amazing and talented people I have ever come across on this hellsite and I think you deserve this AND SO MUCH MORE!!

Now I have heard great things about Family Video and a certain himbo employee so can I pretty please request no. 9 from list 3 ❤️‍🔥

Sending you so so so much love!!!!

- @etherealforever234 <33

HI!!!! firstly, u like seriously flatter me 🥹🥹 i am feelin GOOEY u actually make writing things like this so easy!!! cos i want 2 write for u and its all luv!!! i'm sorry it's mayhaps a little later than you expected but alas, i think u will still enjoy MWAH LOVE U @etherealforever234 1.4k nd whoops r kinda gives loser vibes in this (loser gf anyone? luveline has like coined that phrase hehe)

You’re expecting him to be gone by eight. Nine at the latest.

The clock on the wall ticks closer to to 10pm and you unwillingly keep tabs on it, driven by your restless anxiety. You should be watching the show on the grainy television screen ahead of you, really. Especially after you jokingly bickered with Steve over the film choice for so long and he finally gave in and fed your pick into the VCR.

But you’re not focused on that either. If your eyes aren’t darting to check the clock, all your focus is zeroed in on the feeling of Steve’s thigh pressed against your own.

It might as well be searing a scorch mark into your skin; you’re sure the feeling might be imprinted in your memory forever. His warmth seeps into you. Somehow, it feels like he’s both defrosting hidden worries within you and setting you aflame. Hopes rise and yet, with them come a dozen other new worries.

Despite his closeness, still, you really were expecting him to be gone by eight. Why is he still here? It’s a little uncomfortable to admit it to yourself but you know the confusion stems from the fact people don’t tend to stick around with you.

Steve seems to be an exception.

You check the clock again and try not to think too hard about how nice his closeness is. How you’re already missing it when he hasn’t even left yet. The hand on the clock shudders with every second it ticks around the clock-face. Steve sees your motion, his eyes silently checking in on you, and a frown crinkles his brow at your distracted state.

“Everything alright?” He asks, voice a bit raspy from under use.

You startle just a bit, head whipping towards him beside him. He’s watching you close, amber eyes sincere and expression open. Surprise sprouts within your chest; he must have noticed your fidgeting attention.

“What? Yeah, yes, everything’s fine.” You assure him with a nod, maybe a bit too eager. “Everything alright with you?” You ask nervously, just to check.

Steve laughs a bit at that. He presses his knee against yours purposefully, a gentle knock. Pairs it with a sweet smile.

“Yep,” He smiles, pink lips not at all distracting you in the least. Your gaze darts to the moles on his neck and back to his face as he continues. “You just keep checking the clock. Want to make sure I‘m not... y'know, overstaying my welcome.”

His words dip at the end, clipped by a tone of worry as he turns back to face the screen ahead a bit, pretending to re-tune in. Steve’s been working on toning it down, trying not to be too intense too quickly. Both in the interest of protecting his heart and trying not to scare you off.

But shit, you’re lovely. Steve’s not entirely sure he’s got a choice in this; his heart feels like it might crawl its way out of his chest just to be nearer to you. It’s particularly insatiable when you’re this close. Thigh to thigh. He can smell your perfume and he’s fairly certain it’s put him in some lovesick state of delirium.

Still, he can read people. Your insistence on checking the clock implies you want him to leave and yet, he can hear the tiny hitch of your breath when he leans closer. Confusion muddles together in his brain.

From the way surprise flickers across your features, you don’t actually want him to go. Some part of him sighs in relief before you even open your mouth to reassure him.

“What? No! No, no way.” The words come out a bit squeakier than you want. You curse yourself for somehow letting him believe you want him gone when it’s quite the opposite you want.

Steve nods, his face earnest enough to tell you he believes you. He shifts on the couch, turning back to face you and inadvertently leans in closer. Swirls of his cologne rush your senses. You hate how your brain tries to commit it to memory in an instant. Fuck, he’s pretty.

“So,” Steve starts, licking his lips in a nervous motion. He gestures with his hand, “The clock?”

Shit. You’ve accidentally cornered yourself. You can either let Steve stew, not quite believing that he isn’t just imposing on you and your time, or tell the truth. It somehow feels even more pathetic now than ever.

“I just,” You start, tearing your eyes off his face. Your throat grows a bit thicker and your fingers find a thread on your pants to toy with. “I’m... surprised you’re still here. That you want to be here. And, y’know, spend time with me. Still.”

It doesn’t feel any greater to say aloud. Eyes fixed in your lap, teeth worrying your bottom lip, you miss the way Steve’s eyes widen. Some wave of hurt curdles up inside him, sour and sore, because fuck, you’re waiting for him to leave? Not because you want him to but you’re expecting it?

Screw trying to tone himself down. Steve knows his heart is on his sleeve and he’ll be damned if the one time he tries to shelter it, it backfires. The words come out easy, without a lick of a lie in them.

“I want to spend all my time with you.” He says sincerely, another press of his leg against yours to drive the message home. He means it completely.

That has your head tugging up. Steve’s heart gives a painful little twist at the utter surprise on your face.

“You do?” You ask.

He pushes on, ignoring the urge to ask who made you feel like such a burden and whether he could throttle them. “I like you. I mean, yeah, of course, I wanna spend time with you.” 

He says it so flippantly, casualness dousing every word, like it was a thought he’d thought a thousand times. Heat flames in your chest, brilliantly warm, and curls up to your face. You let out a breath, a little shuddering quiet laugh of disbelief.

“Oh.” You say. The smile curling at the edges of your mouth is impossible to fight. It’s a full blown grin by the time you meet his eyes again and shuffling closer feels like an instinct you can’t ignore.

“Me too.” You admit, nerves still piling in your chest but damn, if the elation of hearing those words doesn’t beat them by a mile. “I mean, I like you too. As well.”

Steve rumbles out another chuckle but you can see how delight dances across his face. His shoulders sit a little lower, grin a little more confident all of a sudden. His knee nudges yours again, for what must be the umpteenth time this night. Forget scorching, he’s burning into your side — the touch unbearable in the best way now you know he wants you. Wants you like you want him.

“Sounds like we’re in the same boat, you and I.” He says simply, wiggling his arm out from where it’s sandwiched between the two of you. He pulls it up to his face with a clenched fist, covering a yawn, and it takes about another second for it to click — when he stretches the arm up, above your heads, and lets it settle down around your shoulder.

God, that’s a move. You’re nearly ashamed of how well it works on you, considering your stomach twists up gleefully. He’s flirting with you.

“Sounds like it.” You breathe out, voice escaping you a bit at how much closer the two of you are now his arm is around you. Steve’s breath fans across your face, his eyes locked onto your face. They roam your face, drinking in the details, paying particular attention to your mouth.

You lick your lips without meaning to and decide you can’t wait til another evening together, hours away, to know what his lips feel like. Steve will not be the only brave one tonight.

Leaning in, you give a moment's pause, to let him give you a sign to back off. To see if the universe will pull the rug out from underneath you, for this to be some cruel joke.

Steve nods, the tiniest motion. This close, you can see the smallest quiver of his lips. You do your best to kiss it away, trying your hardest to contain your smile with your lips against his. From the way Steve smiles into the kiss, you’re sure he doesn’t mind.

[cool-thymus]

My inner artist was resurrected and I'm sending you this pic! Hope it gives you some energy boost <3 Obito knows something :3333

Thank you, sweetie, for these two besties having fun with their "cold" teammate xD It's time to enjoy winter to the fullest! Best remedy :*

(hee-hee 🤭 Obito knows ;D)

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

very late for mermay but imagine merman gojo pleading for y/n to carry him around on land because he's tired of flopping 🧜🏻‍♂️

😭😭😭😭 PLEASEEEE he would wouldn’t he……….. whines about how rough the concrete feels and how his scales are sensitive and how you Have to carry him bc you’re the only human he trusts… i imagine mermaids in general being heavy as FUCK tho so 😭 good luck w him .

…. i could also see him begging to be pushed around in a cart . like a toddler. he’s like a puppy w their head sticking out of the car window just yapping and watching the sights like :33… cutie

[rogdona]

I doodled your girls while testing out a pen :D

OMGGGGGGGGGGGGG I LOVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE ♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗♥️💗💗🌺💗💗🌺 THEY BOTH LOOK SO GOOOODDDDDDD💕💗💗💕💗💕💕💗💕💗💕💗💕💗💕💗 MISS HONEYS SMILE IS ADORABLE AND I LOVE HER MAKING THE HEART SHAPEEEEE🌷💗🌷💗🌷💗🌷💗🌷💗🌷💗🌷💗🌷💗🌷💗🌷 AND ILUNIA HAD HER EUREKA MOMENT YESSSS SHE FIGURED SMTH OUT!!!♥️🌹♥️🌹♥️🌹♥️🌹♥️🌹♥️🌹♥️🌹♥️♥️🌹 I LOVE THEM THANK UUUUUUUUU❤️🌹❤️🌹❤️🌹🌹❤️❤️🌹❤️🌹

[viaetor]

ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗜𝗚𝗡𝗔𝗥𝗢𝗧𝗛 . . . ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ ( 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘢-𝘭𝘰𝘨 — 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 4 / ? ) ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ to be continued.

ㅤㅤin the days when the stars ruled the heavens without question, two shone more blinding than most: aether and lumine, two caelings built from the depths of ignaroth’s tempest forge, where the hottest stars were shaped from the raw energy of destruction… and of creation. they were unlike any other starborn, outstanding even amongst their other caeling siblings, for ignaroth’s fiery essence had bled within their very veins. some rumour that lumine, from steel and old starlight, was made from five black holes and a dead god’s star shard. her brother, aether, however, was crafted with the power of five ancient suns and the heart of a mortal whose stardust refused to vanish. rumours say that young constellations blossomed in the night sky the first time aether and lumine opened their eyes, so strong were their presences. perhaps it was because the god of destruction cried with joy when he saw them; lumine, devastating, was ignaroth’s scythe. aether, piercing, was ignaroth’s sword. their purposes were singular: to bring ruin to worlds, scorch planets, and topple gods and civilisations in the name of cosmic balance. to extinguish eternal peace for the sake of equilibrium found within entropy.

ㅤㅤthey were the god of chaos’ favourite children, and all starborn and golden rulers knew of such a fact. ignaroth never tried hiding that he played favourites, either: the twins roamed through the crystal palace as if they were gods themselves, flying with no concerns for etiquette; they visited other worlds without orders, exploring the belly of the universe aimlessly, and they often sat by their father’s side when the golden rulers needed to assemble. for thousands of years, they stood as ignaroth’s right and left hand, blazing forces of chaos, destruction, conquer and goodhood that even other starborn feared. troublesome children, mumbled zor’yael, goddess of fate, once.

ㅤㅤwherever ignaroth’s burning blade pointed, the twins followed, their star-bound form tearing through the heavens like comets of doom. they obliterated entire star systems, reducing thriving worlds to ash, each victory fuelling their brilliance. many mortal worlds prophesied of their arrival; while lumine was called “the night bringer”, others called aether the “last morning star”—their names became legends, curses, but mostly importantly, promises of ignaroth, the god of chaos, destruction and conquer’s ultimate power. they were unwavering, a paragon of ignaroth’s will—until one day, kessithar happened.

𝗶. ㅤ𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗵𝗼𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗸𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗿

ㅤㅤlumine and aether used to do everything together; hand in hand, they’d cross over one edge of the universe to the other. they’d chase after meteors together, fight in blood and fire together, and grow together. for a while, it was hard knowing who was who. they were made to complement each other, yet simultaneously, they were opposites with their very natures. weird. be it as it may, it was. they were meant to be soldiers, not poets or thinkers. so they weren’t, and they just were.

ㅤㅤas time passed, lumine grew closer to ignaroth and sera’len, walking beside them as they conversed about heavenly principles, cosmic balance and universal laws. when not accompanying the two ancient stars, she’d be found with a troupe of starborn following her trail, asking questions as if she was their commander. meanwhile, aether was usually seen within the palace’s library, reading, learning, and secretly questioning things. he was interested in mortal affairs and their many tales. as such, thalnor, the god of dreams, forbidden knowledge and lies, delighted themselves by sharing stories in aether’s ear and watching his reaction. this didn’t make them grow apart but drew them closer instead. rather than only talking during their missions, they’d question themselves when meeting in celestial hallways, later sneaking away from the crystal palace to talk about their discoveries of the day—they learned to scoff, to shout, to laugh. maybe they were finally learning to feel, maybe not. but all other starborn agreed; it wasn’t normal for caelings to be like that. they were weapons, after all, mere instruments to another’s will. perhaps they were defective.

ㅤㅤone day, the god of conquer had summoned aether. his forger father was always a wild flame, but his skeleton hands were always warm on the morning star’s cheek. that day was the first time ignaroth caressed his hair and bestowed upon him a task only for his ears and hands: kessithar needed to burn under his sword. aether looked up at him, face as ethereal as it ever was, and he wanted to ask why. he closed his mouth before any word could be uttered and heard the slightest chuckle coming from ignaroth. never forget who you are, o my celestial sword; pray with me—

𝗔𝗕𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 𝗜𝗦 𝗠𝗬 𝗕𝗜𝗥𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧. i am the child of the cosmos, weaved from neverending stars. from lashes to claws, i was made in greatness, the reflection of yesterday, today and tomorrow. i am divination shaped, i am reality ascended, i am the life of death and the death of life. i am the blaze of the forge, hot hammer heavy upon the chestplate. i am the fire that inspires the higher crude courage to create. i am the sun that burns with no ashes left. i am the audacity to declare the end and the beginning. my messages are inevitable and my word holds the weight of a billion years of oaths. i am the 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗥 of every world made sword. i bring light and hunger. 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗠𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗠𝗘.

ㅤㅤthey prayed together; the weapon-soldier bowed before his maker and went to vanquish what was rightfully of his god’s. at that time, aether had no idea why ignaroth wanted him to repeat that same mantra he was so used to uttering in every wake. the truth was that the god of conquer was worried that his sword, the last morning star, was losing its merciless edge. as we know by now, dear reader, ignaroth was right. this portion of the story is at least a truth we cannot fight with.

ㅤㅤfor you see, kessithar was a small, humble world, insignificant compared to the great empires and galactic kingdoms aether had once razed. it had no sprawling cities or towering spires of technology—only a quiet landscape of rolling hills, dense forests, and crystal-clear rivers. the people of kessithar were mortal and fragile, living simple lives untouched by the wars of the cosmos. they lived in harmony, all of them; eating in the morning, dancing in the afternoon, dreaming in the evening below their three moons. they cried for their deceased, celebrated the birth of their young, and helped even other species flourish alongside them. in every sense of the word, they were ordinary, dull creatures. to aether, this meant nothing. to ignaroth, their world was a point of balance that needed to be undone. peace was stagnation, and it could never last too long.

ㅤㅤbut when aether descended upon the world, something strange happened. as he prepared to unleash the fire of the five suns upon kessithar, he was met by a child. she waved in his direction while holding a basket of fruits, extending it to him as if he were a friend she was waiting to meet again. she was smiling—an expression of happiness, thalnor once told him in his stories, especially when they come from the young. “hello, o traveller from another world!”, the kid shouted, “come down, share a story with me!”

ㅤㅤaether had seen many types of mortals in his many years of existence. some planets birthed warriors, mortals who would die battling ‘til their last breath or cursing the gods as a blade pierced their chest. other worlds were home to negotiators, people who would try to bargain lives as if they were coins of any interest to the higher beings in the sky. others tried to play games, gamble, scheme, deceive. he had seen it all… but not this. as red as the blood of many enemies he had slain was the apple in his hand, shiny and big. he looked at the mortal girl, so tiny she barely reached his knee. perhaps this was meant to be poison. fine, he’d play along.

ㅤㅤit tasted sweet. one single bite dirtied his face, dripping to his chin and neck. he waited to sense a toxin, anything at all. yet, all he could feel was how delicious it was. “do you like it?” the girl asked, offering more fruits from her basket. he shouldn’t, but he tasted more and more of the fruits, berries and honey that was offered to him, waiting, hoping for something bitter to bite his tongue. it never did. puzzled, he asked the girl if she knew who he was. had she ever heard of the last morning star? she nodded proudly and raised her finger:

but fear not, for abundance is every being’s birthright. we are all children of the cosmos, made from stardust. from our heads to our toes, we are shaped in hope, the image of a day where greatness needn’t exist, only goodness. we are mortality earthed, makers of realities, the meaning of life and death, and the life and death of meaning. we are the blaze which makes the forge, burning fire of every shield and weapon. we choose to destroy or to create. we are the ashes that remain. we are the arrogance to defy every ending and every beginning. we are deaf and blind to certainty, for no final message can destroy our being. we are the oaths that are carried through. we bring light and hunger. they will meet us, and we will meet them. show them, every time, what it means to be mortal.

ㅤㅤ“i am choosing to show you love. so when you kill me, i’ll still live in your mind.” she offered him another apple. “we will haunt you, dearest morning star. so before you go, you will share a story with me.”

ㅤㅤhe’d be lying if he said such a puny display of confidence had amazed him. words were just as fragile as the mortals who invented them, easily broken and forgettable. what surprised aether was her audacity to extend her hand for him, offering to show him around gardens, beaches, mountains, villages and rivers. day after day, he watched the mortals of kessithar, their fleeting lives filled with so much emotion. they told tales of their heroes, showed him the animals they kept as companions, shared stories about their elders, talked about religion, and sang music to his ears. his presence, thick as the night and burning like the sun, seemed not to bother them: for the first time in his life, the last morning star felt incredibly small. they were free, they explained to him. and aether, who had only known destruction, began to envy them. why couldn’t he feel love, and loss, and peace? wasn’t there something more? to stay always the same, even if destructive and chaotic—wasn’t that against the very own principles of the cosmic balance?

𝗶𝗶. ㅤ𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗱𝗲𝗳𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲

ㅤㅤwhen aether realised he could not destroy kessithar, his fate was sealed. he defied ignaroth’s will, sparing the world and its people, returning to the crystal palace with no blood stain, the sword he carried light and hungry. as soon as he set foot in the floating ruins, lumine came to him. furious, she demanded why he had not completed the mission given to him by their forger. he kept his march towards the god of destruction’s throne, opening his doors, uncaring of the other caelings in their midst. that act granted knife-sharp gazes in his direction, yet ignaroth remained loosely in place.

ㅤㅤlegends tell different versions of how their exchange went. some say that ignaroth and aether were alone in that room; others say lumine accompanied him. rumour has it that aether shouted at his ruler, demanding explanations as if they were on equal footing. others say that aether cried, kneeling as he admitted his defeat—for some reason, he just couldn’t bring himself to destroy that world and needed to be reforged. few talk about how aether says his hands were cursed and how kessithar managed to trick him into touching their planet with his bare hands, thus connecting them forever. in many tales, lumine stands beside ignaroth, disapproving of her brother yet looking at him with an emotion that shouldn’t belong to stars.

ㅤㅤall agree that aether said something that made ignaroth rise from his throne and directly slash him with the eclipsing scythe—lumine. it was the first time that aether bled, black-matter blood thickly spurting from his cheek as he felt hurt for the first time. breaking his skin, the injury’s pain spread to his very core. despite how lumine cried and held ignaroth’s cape, pleading for mercy over her brother, ignaroth took aether by the arm, raising him from the ground. o my celestial sword, let me remind you who you are. he forced aether to become his celestial sword, shifting his form and keeping him in a tight, suffocating grip.

ㅤㅤwith aether in his hands, ignaroth flew across the ocean, leaving fire where his wings and blade touched. he cut open kessithar, and then sliced it into millions of pieces. he struck down its solar system and many neighbouring ones. it’s said that ignaroth’s fury lasted for many moon cycles and devoured so many galaxies that it shifted the universe’s weight. he used aether until his blade became dull and chipped, until it cracked in his grasp. some claim that ignaroth only stopped because sera’len had sent his sentinels to calm him down, and even then, it’s known among the starborn that the sentinels are still recovering their numbers.

ㅤㅤonly after his fit of rage had quenched, did ignaroth release aether from his hand and allowed him to recover to his starborn shape. lumine was there to hold him, borrowing her starlight so his cracks could immediately heal—yet the scar under his eye remained like an unwanted memoir. it’s unknown what ignaroth said to aether once he was done. still, over the following centuries, aether was almost always seen accompanying the god of destruction everywhere, never once stepping inside a library or asking about mortal matters. some whisper that he became even more violent than any other caeling, ascending as a ruthless general and becoming ignaroth’s favourite weapon to summon. however, ignaroth never smiled down on him again. probably because he knew that it wouldn’t take long until aether betrayed him again.

[jrueships]

Kawhi+paul georp

PAUL GEORP

[smowyashe]

Kit: Y'know a lot of us were pretty happy when the Federation first attacked.

Hesh: W- I'm sorry, what?!

Kit: Well, America's a pretty shit country, the government was like, reeeeally fucked up and you used to have a pretty high average weight.

Kick: Ahh, yes, the glory days.

Hesh: I still can't get past the fact you were HAPPY about acts of terrorism?

Kit: Well we didn't know that, you do know the Federation spread propaganda and convinced a lot of people that America struck first? That's why we didn't send troops for ages. Well that, and the fact that our government was infiltrated by the little shits and my military base went against orders to get soldiers out here.

Keegan: I could see them doing that.

Kit: Holy shit!

Kick: Damn dude don't scare us like that.

Hesh: I- you know what? I'm gonna leave it. You're here now, helping us, defying orders to leave us for dead. It's fine.

Kit: To be honest though, now yall aren't arguing about who's national parks are better or dealing with fucked up politics, it's kinda nice to visit.

Hesh: I fucking wish I was in Australia right now.