#compare me not to stars: musings

[hydrofates-moved]

Yes I know I haven't posted enstars moments in a while (or posted anything in a while really) but listen.. valkyrie enstars <3

[malusrecord]

((I'm digging through the archive of my original blog---yes my very first blog on this hellsite---for a specific post and I was just reminded: there were actual Angie fans online back in those days. Like people who'd fucking played the games and could attest to my work (mainly writing for Oscar but also on the whole) in a very different way compared to the people I've personally explained the series to and whatnot. Like yeah I do a decent(?) enough job, all things considered, it's just....different. I don't have many people who i can really talk in depth about it (or him) with without leading the conversation or helping which is fine, I love doing it and I always will and etc etc, but man....))

[flovverworks]

guy who looks a bit sad whenever they see wizard of oz

[celesthysaturn]

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝕬𝖕𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖔 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖆 𝖘𝖎𝖈𝖐 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌

Yandere Apollo x Human Female darling

Note: kidnapping, manipulation (soft),Gaslighting, Yandere content

Revised and Rewritten

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In this scenario, Apollo's sweetheart was kidnapped and held in his golden temple, until one day she finally decided to try and escape. However, to her misfortune, it was a very bad time to try to escape through the paths of the Olympian forest infested with supernatural dangers and weather, causing her to get lost and injured by obstacles. Soon, after hours of recovering and walking on new paths, Darling was too weak and bruised to continue deciding to accept death or a miracle would happen, but she didn't know that Apollo had already followed her tracks and was patiently waiting for his darling to become completely vulnerable before springing into action, his greatest yandere side flashing through the gloomy atmosphere seconds before Darling lost consciousness.

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• He'd love to take care of his sweetheart, even more so in such a physically and mentally vulnerable state that forcing darling to depend totally on him to survive would make him a little excited. Not that he likes to see his beloved muse sighing in pain and discomfort, of course not, it hurts his heart. However, this moment will bring out his best yanderes tendencies.

• It's the perfect time to use his best skills, even though he is the god of many gifts. He will have the best chance to express his deep love and affection for his sweetheart because of her vulnerability, as she is too delirious and weak to resist his care, and also to show this naive human how foolish it is to try to depend on herself.

"God, you're such a delicate being, and yet you're daring, too daring not to recognize your fragility in the midst of danger out there, let me take care of you to show you where your safe haven really is."

• Being the god of medicine, he will use his divine knowledge of healing to treat wounds, calm fever and relieve uncomfortable pain in an extremely careful and attentive way, as if it were a moment of intimacy and genuine affection with his beloved, using his best home remedies with the help of his servant muses in the preparation and supervision of his darling so that she doesn't have to move for any unnecessary reason try to run away while they are busy.

• It is so pleasurable for him to massage your small (compared to his) and sore body, paying attention to its plump/slender parts, taking care of the swollen areas, using fragrant natural oils to rub hands from them in such a careful but intense way, being able to feel every part of the tender/thin and sensual skin of his darling that only he is worthy.

• Meanwhile, he's whispering sweet declarations of love, but with a more possessive and discreetly manipulative flavor.

"My little Sunflower, you are too pure and innocent to live in the arid world outside my temple of pure and vivacious gold, a graceful flower that is not worthy of having its beauty and purity worn away by perverse and savage places and beings that so It begs for attention. Therefore, your special soul must be watered and nourished by a great and enlightened star of the day like me..."

• There's no way Apollo can stop manipulating her lovingly, it's almost inevitable for him due to his emotional and sexual dependence on his darling, even more so after finally feeling blessed to find his true love, his soul mate after so many frustrated loves in the past. Such a beautiful, admired, talented and intelligent god was hopeless at having lasting and genuine happiness in love, and now that his darling's desire to escape has caused her to be swooned over in a forest ruled by mystical and unknown creatures that live in the world of the Olympian gods, his heart could no longer take another unhappy ending.

• To make matters worse, the possibility of another god finding her, with the intention of hurting her, kidnapping her or even raping her and taking her away from him and even stealing her most precious new being (which heaven forbid Zeus should know about Apollo's beloved) makes him overflow with fury, increasing his desire to take revenge for all the love tragedies he has suffered during his merciless life. He won't allow his beloved to escape from his unbalanced love in need of reciprocity.

"My effervescent heart, like the star king that reigns over the day, would not allow my beloved, my better half, to distance itself invisibly like the minute winds of the icy east, would you agree to savor my eternal suffering as I sit on my golden throne like gold pure of ivory after I achieved my happiness debt in the form of an insignificant human of divine purpose after experiencing such arduous destinies of love?"

• Gaslighting is inevitable with his subtly desperate speeches of reciprocal love and burning sexual desire for his untouchable lover, now that her physical and mental state will not allow her to reject him for the time being, and consequently it will be even more difficult after she gets better and Apollo's words and touches will echo in her mind as soon as she sees him being softer and more understanding, rather than rigid, with her, even though he is visibly upset by what she has done, causing feelings of guilt in his innocent human even though she has not regretted wanting to run away.

• With Apollo being obsessive, he will deeply admire his darling during the moment she is sound asleep after drinking the relaxing sweet tea they and their servants have made to completely calm her down, and this may last until the sky threatens to lighten, but not before he takes her temperature and feel your heartbeat with your warm hands .

• It is simply magnificent to appreciate the light of the silver moon of Olympus that symbolically honors its sister, the goddess of the moon, sensually highlighting the curves of her beloved's semi -kind body under the soft silk comforter that rests on the bed of the luxurious healer room of her sanctuary. Now that his heavenly lyre is as peaceful as the shy serene on the rise, he can finally rest mentally and give him a passionate kiss on the forehead before going to his cameras and sorting one of his slender servants to stay in the room to provide security there, and necessary servitude all night.

• During the stays of care made by the muses who live in the temple of the admired sun god, serving, flattering and aesthetically representing the divine beauty of art and music, there would be no shortage of genuine dedication to caring for and providing comfort to Apollo's darling, in search of praise and approval from their master. However, over time, the god's obsession spontaneously influences his muses and priestesses , making them want to investigate more about the pure and unique beauty of the young mortal/imortal.

•Finally, the desired human will have beautiful women discreetly idolizing her, which can be confusing for her.

• As Apollo's darling returns to her normal, healthier state, after treatments with herbs and nutritious food, Apollo will reinforce a brief sermon about the dangers of the world now and the wise decision to depend on him to be protected and loved in a passive and romantic way, as he believes that his emotionally charged words of despair in a paternal and loving way that day were enough to maintain his desire in his darling's fragile conscience.

• It is clear that he would become more vigilant in his honey, and to try to prevent her from having time to plan other escapes or more reasons to leave, he would make sure to keep her occupied with common hobbies in the temple, such as music, painting, writing, dancing and a little medicine so that Apollo can also watch his darling presenting her new skills in a private performance in the future. Apollo's muses will love being able to teach the golden god's much-desired darling.

"Now that you have learned your lesson, please, my beloved, submit to me, and you will never have a reason to leave my arms again."

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Finally this is my first writing for Yandere Greek mythology, which made me happy to finally finish it and post it there after so much waiting. Stay tuned for more yandere writings for Greek gods and feel free to make suggestions

𝕰𝖓𝖏𝖔𝖞𝖘 𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 🧁

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[mediumgayitalian]

Will was very young the first time he dreamt of his dad.

"So," said a blond man in a white dress that was Too Short and teeth so straight they were off-putting. "How goes it, kiddo?"

Will was aware he was dreaming. He always was. But he had never quite been capable of pushing his way out of these dreams, so he was as good as stuck. He looked the man up and down.

"Are you a MLM salesman?" he asked, which he at the time felt was a reasonable question.

The MLM salesman looked affronted.

"I am living sunlight," said the man, perfectly straight nose wrinkled in offense.

"Living Sunlight," Will had mused, itching a mosquito bite on his ankle. He straightened and rocked back on the worn heels of his favorite sneakers. Only one side still lit up, but that worked for him. "I've never heard of that one. Is it Vitamin D supplements?"

The salesman sputtered. "Will, I -- I'm your father?"

Will froze in quiet awe, perking up like a watered flower.

"My time has come," he whispered.

No sooner were the words out of his mouth that the salesman stomped one sandaled foot, squeezed his fists, and hollered, at the top of his lungs, "Do not compare me to any character in that no-good loser's movies!" He spit on the ground beside them. Or, well, not really. Metaphysically. "George Lucas is a disgrace to the name of linguistic arts! He has written the worst dialogue known to man! He made Natalie Portman look robotic!"

Will disagreed on principle.

But he inclined his head, because, well. Fair. He did indeed do that.

"The art of the whole thing is the implications," Will said haughtily. He waved a hand the way he'd seen some of his Mama's critics do at shows. "The grander themes and nuances of Star Wars are deliberately left to viewer's thoughtful interpretations." He nodded, once. For emphasis.

The man -- his father, allegedly, but Will had his doubts -- Mama would crush this guy like a bug -- and Will has issue being related to someone so annoying, already -- sighed, and then shook his head.

"Maybe I mixed you up," he mused. He glanced down and frowned. "Are you actually one of Athena's ilk? Mine aren't usually…like this. More cool than straight geek, generally, which the exception of band dorks."

He leaned down -- far down, Will scowled, not fair; if this man is his father this better mean he will be tall -- and squinted.

"You don't look much like me yet," he observed. "I'm not quite so spotty."

"You're an asshole," Will informed him hotly. To his frustration, however, the stupid spots in question were not quite on board with his attempted nonchalance, and begun, as they always do when he's mad, to glow. Like little pinpricks in a window shade. "How do you sell scammy supplements if you're an asshole?"

"Hm," continued the asshole. He had nice hair, which was a third thing about him Will hated on principle. Thick and wavy and fell to his shoulders in nice ringlets. Held off his forehead by some kind of leather headband. What a douche. "Your mother is Naomi Solace, yes?"

"What are you, a cop?" Will said, which is what his mother had trained him to say in response to that question. But if this guy is a cop then Will is an elephant, so he gave up and answered: "Yes, but that's none of your business."

"…She bisexual? Coulda been a double night for her, I suppose. Can't blame her."

Will blinked. "What's that?"

Salesman Loser Dad blinked. "Uh," he said, and continued to flounder. It was a foreign look on him, so Will found it amusing. He counted three entire minutes of stuttered non-explanations and hand gestures.

"Dudes," Salesman Loser Dad managed, eventually, waving a manicured hand. "And women. You know?"

Will squinted at him in much the same way he squinted at raccoons during mating season attempting to seduce a fencepost.

"Both," finished the man eventually. "Both is good."

"Well, duh," said Will, continuing to look at him oddly. "How are you ever meant to choose?"

Salesman Loser Dad barked out a delighted laugh. "Alright!" he crowed, throwing a hand over Will's shoulders and recovering quite gracefully when Will picked it up by the middle finger and removed it not unlike one would a dead snake. "You are mine!"

"I have met you one sum total times," Will noted. "Any attempt to claim custody on your end is laughable by any reasonable court of law."

"Two," dismissed his alleged father. "I said hello to you at a bar that one time. Remember?"

Will did not remember. Will also knew that telling people who frequent bars that you do not remember seeing them in one is generally a Bad Plan -- another lesson from his mother -- so he said nothing at all. Alleged Absenteer was too wrapped up in his own rambling story to notice.

"Anyways," he continued. Will avoided correcting him on the correct use of the term 'anyway' because he is taking these special classes at school called Fitting In With Your Peers -- What You Should Know and has been advised that constantly correcting people may come off as 'combative' or perhaps even 'bitchy'. "Just came to drop by and introduce myself. Figured you should know your old man so you know who to pray to when you make it to camp!"

Adults do this thing where they say a sentence that is entirely incomprehensible without decades of general life experience and then get mad when you don't get half of it. Will, well used to adult bullshit -- his mother is excellent at pointing it out to him -- did not bother worsening this issue. He just nodded , and filed it away in the mental compartment in his brain labelled 'Problems for Future Will (Sorry)'.

He also refrained from mentioning that his father in question did not introduce himself, and Will remained, still, after suffering all this, ignorant of his name.

Another folder in the compartment. Fun times for Future Him.

"I'll be seeing you around," said his dad with a wink, spinning away from his personal space. He skipped off to the distance with a backwards wave and an honest-to-Jesus "Toodleloo!" which would be funny if Will were not stuck watching him prance away.

"There's no way," he said to himself, after a good twenty minutes, hands crossed over his chest. He shook his head, and then again for good measure. His mom's a deeply cool person. She has a cool butterfly tattoo and two ear piercings and everything. She wouldn't do that to herself. "Nah. This is my brain making things up for the drama of it all."

He turned in the opposite direction of the figment of his imagination and walked until he woke up again. He didn't bother mentioning his dream to his mother. In fact, he forgot about it entirely.

Until two years later, when he sat awake on a cot in the Hermes cabin, staring at a half-faded mural of the gods on the poster-cluttered wall. He glared at a salesman-looking guy who's horribly good hair peeked between a poster of Al Capone and a framed Cease and Desist.

"Fucker," he muttered to himself, and ignored it when someone sighed and muttered about the mutiny rehabilitation package again.

-- -- --

for @willsolaceweek day 5 -- will and his dad

[loving-family-poll]

Ultimate Incest Poll - Final

Propaganda under the cut:

Liam/Noel:

The Gallagher brothers have a very intense relationship that doesn't make any sense to the outside viewer unless one considers the possibility of incest. For 30 years now they have been utterly unhinged about one another in the public eye. Noel has often made incest jokes; Liam once said on-stage once "we had sex last night" referring to him and Noel. Even people writing in actual books and magazines have picked up on the vibes (some stuff that has been printed about them fully feels like it was written by tumblr incestinas except it's like. actual fucking journalists). Also there was this one time in 1996 where they kissed each other with tongue in front of 40 thousand people.

They have been described as “in love with each other” by both themselves and third parties. the lyrics “you’re my lover, i’m your brother.” they kissed with tongue at loch lomond in 1996 and have also been photographed/videoed kissing on the mouth other times. liam regularly groped noel onstage. liam’s entire twitter is just propaganda too. liam talked about impregnating noel once. noel frequently talks about how physically attractive liam is. liam claims that he’s noel’s muse

their song guess god thinks im abel has the lyrics "i could be your lover" while comparing themselves to you guessed it abel and cain. and like. a thousand more instances of them being weird about each other. also noel REALLY wanted a sister and he mentioned it quite a few times and said well liam IS basically a sister or something like that. normal behaviour

Liam literally called himself Noel's good boy on twitter, and called him god a few times after reunion. Noel said he loves make women cry and the only thing that's better is make Liam cry so he can laugh and call him a woman. They literally kissed with tongue and loch lomand is not their only kiss they have two more photos of different kissing to, they literally used the japan kiss video for reunion video. YES THEY DID THAT TF. Noel said they are head over heels in love and said it's illegal in many countries. Also Noel said Liam is like his ex-wife a few times or shit like those cunts are fucking crazy

Other people have described them as more like boyfriend/girlfriend than brothers and said they’re in love. someone on twitter asked liam “if you’re john lennon, who is noel?” and liam said “yoko ono.” another time someone said on twitter “you defo rimmed noel when you were younger” and liam replied “you jealous?"

Deeply weird about each other getting married (them not attending each other's wedding which occurred month apart and then getting divorce around the same time and they stayed at the same hotel for months), intense infamously love-hate relationship and is everyone's favorite soap opera, noel saying "on stage i just wanted him..there's only two of us that will ever get this", prominent theme of shame and crime and impossible dream in noel gallagher works, the elusive meaning of wonderwall which noel insisted is not about anyone but there's good amount of evidence that it referenced back to their childhood and their shared bedroom, liam having mental breakdown several times on twitter about noel, liam's my brother is getting a divorce playlist to which he shared with his 3 millions twitter followers, incest-baiting on main ever since the reunion, brother and lover being interchangeable for noel when writing lyrics, noel (allegedly) lying to liam that his girlfriend cheated on him in order to sabotage their relationship before oasis took off, liam hating noel's latest (ex) wife (sarah), noel writing "the owner of the star on stage" after liam's autograph and so many more insane shit

"[Liam] thinks all the songs are about him. He even thinks Wonderwall is about him." –Noel Gallagher (1997)

"It's all about me it always was and is" –Liam Gallagher (2023)

Japan kiss (kiss is at the end) loch lomand kiss

PLUS they’re back together after 14 years of estrangement! The narrative!

Cain/Abel:

the og brotherssss. invented murder.

Brothers inexorably tied together… brothers alone in a field, no witnesses but god… jealousy violence guilt sin… you get it.

Blueprint for violent older sibling & younger sibling relationships. Our beloved Cain complex comes from this story and where would we be without it? These two are the huge inspirations for both incestuous and non incestuous poetry, especially between brothers. Nothing represents the self destructiveness of incest more than these guys. Also I know they frotted in those fields, Eve told me.

[andy-wm]

I have thoughts on Jimin's SGMB

It's the gayest thing I've ever seen.

And by that I mean it's joyous, light-hearted, bright, and fun.

We can all agree, I think, that this is a happy and totally harmless song. Who could criticise Jimin for declaring his love in such a sweet and innocent way?

Of course not everyone will like it, and that's fine. You don't have to like everything he does - or everything BTS does - you are an individual with thoughts and feelings of your own - I hope. But putting that aside you'd have to be a troubled person indeed to take offence at anything here.

So, it is definitely a fan song, right? Jimin is singing to his fans... isn't he?

Maybe.

But if it is (I and I'm not convinced) it's not just a fan song.

It's sweet, so sweet, but....

Maybe it's a little too sweet?

We know Jimin is CUTIE SEXY LOVELY and LOVELY LOVELY LOVELY, but let's be honest, he's also a grown man. And Army are not children (mostly). In fact we have had many many conversations about how ARMY are not children.

But this whole production is pushing the sweet and innocent barrow so hard that I can't help wanting to look underneath and behind and inside to see what's really going on because it's so sweet it's hurting my teeth.

Compare the sophistication and self awareness of FACE to the bouncy, bright and child-like song-and-dance in the SGMB music video. They are WORLDS apart and we were told very specifically that the albums were linked.

"Following his first solo album, “FACE,” where he sought to explore his true identity, “MUSE” documents his journey in search of the source of his inspiration." said the Weverse notification.

So what's really going on here?

What are you doing Jiminie?

And more importantly, why are you doing it?

You could call it a pageant, or a carnival, or a circus - with Jimin as the ringmaster.

But my view is:

This a pantomime. And it's very clever.

According to the Oxford Dictionary, a pantomime is "A dramatic entertainment,  originating in Roman mime, in which  performers express meaning through  gestures  accompanied by music." Yes, that describes it.

Merriam-Webster tells us "[A pantomime] is an ancient Roman dramatic performance featuring a solo dancer and a narrative chorus" That also makes sense.

Oxford also specified that it's a modern BRITISH tradition. "a theatrical entertainment, mainly for children, which involves music, topical jokes, and slapstick comedy." It's a perfect fit.

The British link is already there - Jimin clearly told us he's influenced by The Beatles' Sergeant Peppers Album. There's also the styling of his suit. The stovepipe pants, narrow tie, and fitted jacket are very 1960s (and 1980s) British pop.

There's something old-school about a pantomime. It harks back to childhood, and to the nostalgia of holidays. And the styling of the MV is in keeping with that nostalgic feel too - from the Mountain scene with the vintage film title, to the intertitles - or title cards , to the circular frame of the opening scene.

But back to the Pantomime itself...

A quick google search told me the following are important elements of pantomime. And we have most, if not all of them in this production.

Gender role reversal - TICK

Slapstick comedy - TICK

Colourful costumes - TICK

Audience participation - TICK (the children ARE the audience)

Exaggerated facial expressions - TICK

Take another look at the music video - it's all there.

Wikipedia tells us that pantomimes traditional told fairy tales or folk tales - often love stories - and that the primary role in a Pantomime was:

The 'Principal boy', a hero or charismatic rogue, traditionally played by a young woman in men's clothing.

Smart, very smart. With all the other conversations we've been having a round gender this is totally on the money.

Wikipedia goes on to say "Another pantomime tradition is to engage celebrity guest stars... Contemporary pantomime productions are often adapted to allow the star to showcase their well-known act.... If the star enters into the spirit of the entertainment, he or she likely adds to its overall effect"

Welcome, Loco.

(yes, I know collabs are de rigueur, but that doesn't change the fact that it fits - celeb guests are an established practice in Panto.)

So if this IS a Pantomime (and I'm not saying it definitely is but it looks like one to me), then it's intended to be a sung-story, told as much through dance and gestures as through words.

If it's a pantomime, what is it about?

I'm glad you asked! This little charade is the story of a young person called Jimin who is looking for love. He finds romance easily enough...

but real love takes a little longer.

Fortunately for our hero, he's brave (he will confess to his lover) and he is patient (he encourages them to do so too).

In between, there are shenanigans and goofing...

But our Charismatic Rogue is charming (if devilish) and wins the hearts of the audience - and his lover.

Let's take a closer look at how the story unfolds...

At the start of the MV, as the initial credits appear, Jimin is on stage vibing with his band. Loco is chilling on a rock like a lizard in the sun.

We get the ye olde intertitles, welcoming the audience and introducing.... SMERALDO Garden Marching Band

It's not Smeraldo Garden - Marching Band. It's Smeraldo *pause* Garden Marching Band. Smeraldo (secrets) has the emphasis.

After the intertitles, the scene opens on a group of children - they are ostensibly the audience of the band. They're playing paper-scissors-rock to see who will call for Jimin's attention.

The children run over to him and the tale begins.

Jimin, the main character of this story, immediately launches into song.

He starts off singing about Bangtan - mentioning their harmony (song and personal I think), he shows the Bangtan hand gesture we all know so well, and he sings "we gift happiness every day".

But he mentions June 12th.

Why June 12th?

Why not 13th, their debut day?

BECAUSE THIS IS NOT A SONG for ARMY. He's making it clear that at this point he's referring to Bangtan specifically, not the whole juggernaut of the fandom and fame. June 12th precedes ARMY.

He's made it clear from the start - this is NOT ABOUT ARMY.

Then he leans in and whispers to the children - and the camera -"lets talk about us".

Look at the kids' faces - they're miming shock. Ooooohhh! This is a big secret he's about to tell them - and us.

Look at Jimin's expression - he's just a tad smug. This is not a shocking secret to him, this is a fun secret.

Yes, he is indeed the charismatic rogue of this story.

He sings:

"All the things we couldn't say before

And your hidden feelings too (just for you)

Don't you worry anymore

Since we're together now**

Let's be a little more honest."

So it seems our main character has a LOVER. Someone who couldn't be revealed and who hid their feelings.

<Wow, I have no idea who this could be...>

Hang on, what's happening in the MV??

On his journey, it seems our young hero has a few short-lived romances. And if you look carefully, they are all with men.

He accepts the rose from a man, and plants himself on the bench right up close to .... a man. He jumps up unperturbed, and gifts the rose to (you guessed it) another man.

Jimin manages to sidestep (or completely ignore) all the women except one, who he sends graciously into the arms of a random man before continuing on his journey.

Wait one moment... his romantic partners were ALL MEN??

ALL MEN??

ALL MEN?!!!!!

Yes darling, all men. Let's continue.

So, it seems none of Jimin's previous romances grew into anything more, but he takes his own advice with his mysterious lover and confesses first.

He smirks. He flicks his jacket with pizzazz. He's ready.

He sings:

"Ooooh I love you babe,

I'll come closer to you

I want to hold your hand,

I want you babe (yessir)

Please note the hand gesture in this choreo - it's another one we've seen many times.

The dance ends and Jimin scans the surroundings and spots his old friend...

[Enter stage left: Loco]

Oh look, the friend is a rapper a few years older than Jimin. They seem to have a lot of fun together, Jimin and his rapper friend. There are ZERO romantic overtones here. This guy happily goes along with all the goofing and silliness even though he looks a tiny bit mortified. Either they are both very good actors, or a lot of the time, Loco was holding in his laughter. And Jimin seems incredibly amused by that.

They hang out together until.... something in the atmosphere changes:

The colours become richer, light become warmer, and oh look....

It's *The Golden Hour*

I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP, PEOPLE. HE REALLY DID THIS.

Jimin leaves Loco, chasing the golden light as he sings about "the dazzling sky." Golden confetti (champagne, anyone?) falls all around him and then ...

fucking sunflowers bloom.

SUN FLOWERS.

BLOOM.

FOR HIM.

<I need to lie down and process this>

SUNflowers...

Remind me again what sunflowers are known for? Oh yes, they are symbolic of the sun. Guess what else? They turn to face the sun.

Yup, the sunflowers all turn their faces toward the camera. I'm not crazy, okay?! I'm not.

SMH... let's move on.

Jimin re-joins his band, and the sunflowers do their sunflower thing, and Jimin sings:

"So tell me how you feel,

let whatever you feel

wash over you"

Then he sings

"I love you babe, (yessir)

I'll come closer to you

I want to hold your hand,

I want you babe (yessir)

Please note the hand gesture again

👉 👈

The bridge is next, and Jimin takes us back to Bangtan. As all the stars appear (that ocean of purple light that surrounds them at concerts) and everyone takes their place on stage, they turn up the music. <Are my eyes watering? Perhaps>

"I think we're ready now

<NGL I may have shed a tear here>

Lets begin 1, 2

<Ok fuck, I bawled at this point. Goddammit Jimin!>

Put your hands up"

*cute wiggle-dance commences* and Jimin spots his good friend the rapper again, hiding on the sidelines. He pulls him into the chorus line and they do more silliness and everyone is having a great time.

Confetti- flower petals fall, there's laughter and happiness all around, and they bow and bid us good bye.

The show is over.

*THE END*

But wait, I am not done.

A few more things bear mentioning here:

I saw quite a few comments saying this song is for ARMY.

It is categorically NOT for ARMY. Besides the fact that we already have Closer Than This - a fan song - on this album, Jimin specifically chose a date before debut - before ARMY existed - to place in this song. No mention of ARMY at all. Accept it graciously, this is not for you.

I wanna hold your hand

This lyric is a reference not only to the Beatles song "I Want to Hold Your Hand", It's also a common theme with Jimin and Jungkook. We see them finding any feeble excuse to hold hands, shake hands, touch hands. Yes, we see you two...

I am you, You are me

The gesture used in the choreo when Jimin is singing his confession - I failed miserably to catch it in my screengrab but there's no doubt it's their "I am you, You are me" gesture. Take a look for yourself.

All Jimin's romantic moments happened with men.

I'm not saying in his life, I am saying in this MV. All of them. The only interaction he has with a woman is one brief moment where he grabs her wrist as she passes by and he swings her into the path of a guy behind him. He even scoots around the women and sidesteps them. That can't be accidental. He's making a point.

The addition of 'yessir' in the lyrics makes it clear that he's confessing to a man.

I cannot see any reasonable way to refute this. The BH subtitles include it even though you have to listen carefully to catch it. THAT IS A CHOICE, NOT AN ACCIDENT.

"Even though we're together now"

These lyrics could mean theyre an established, committed couple. But if we think a little broader than that, and a little more literally, who is he together with right now?

It's strategically brilliant.

This is his 'tell all expose' but he has built in a rock solid escape clause by using the panto format. Staging the whole love story - including the prior boyfriends and the man he's now in love with - as an over the top comedy show makes it easily dismissible as pure fiction. By including the fantasy/magical elements he just makes it more so. Deniers will be able to come up with a dozen reasons to reject this... 'It's a fantasy story', 'not all songs are autobiographical', 'he's making a point', 'he's raising LGBTQIA+ awareness'... all true maybe, but that doesn't change the fact that this is HIS song, about HIS muse. If you've been paying attention (and even if you haven't) you will know this is certainly not pure fiction.

AND FINALLY....

The most important one, I left till last. I actually want to scream this, in all caps, in the biggest font possible. But I will restrain myself.

The song is bookended by references to BTS.

That is hugely important. For those who may not be aware, this is a literary device. Bookending a story provides a start and end reference point. Here, the Bangtan bookends provide context for the rest of the lyrics - they frame the lyrics within them. That means the events happening in the song, happen within the context of Bangtan. Reading between the lines, the person he is singing to/about is within Bangtan.

This is not reaching. This is like mixing blue paint and yellow paint together. You will get green paint.

💛+💙=💚

So yes, this song is the gayest thing I've ever seen.

And I DO mean it's joyous, light-hearted, bright, and fun.

But yes, it's also absolutely and totally really really GAY

🏳️‍🌈🐥🦄🌈🏳️‍⚧️🌻🐰☀️🏳️‍🌈

Thank you Jiminie

[sirxaibs]

Caelus X Reader Honkai Star Rail

“Another Me in Another World”

Masterlist

pov you come from a timeline where you and caelus loved each other. Though now thrown into this world you don’t remember anything.

:0

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ The moment the warp settled, a shiver laced down Caelus’ spine.

They stood at the edge of a crumbling city floating in a pocket of broken time what Herta dubbed a “dimensional fault zone,” where history bent like glass under pressure. Fractured towers loomed above, suspended by unseen strings. The air crackled, distorted. But none of it compared to the static in his chest. She was here. He didn’t know how he knew only that the moment he stepped off the Express, his heart started pounding like it remembered something he didn’t. Then he saw her. She was standing alone at the edge of a fractured platform, long coat fluttering behind her like a shadow. Mask half lowered, a Stellaron Hunter insignia stitched boldly across her sleeve. And when her gaze met his sharp, unreadable his world tipped on its axis.

“…You,” Caelus breathed.

You didn’t blink. “So you’re the Express’s precious Trailblazer.” His title sounded foreign in your mouth, like it didn’t belong like you didn’t want it to. But your fingers twitched slightly at your side, as if muscle memory betrayed you. Behind Caelus, March and Dan Heng tensed. “Careful,” Dan Heng said lowly, “she’s one of Kafka’s.”

But Caelus stepped forward anyway. You didn’t move. Not when he stopped a few feet away. Not when he tilted his head, searching your eyes for something you didn’t even know you’d lost.

“There’s something familiar about you,” he said softly.

Your lips curved into something like a smirk but it didn’t reach your eyes. “I hear that a lot before people try to shoot me.”

“I’m not going to shoot you.”

“And I’m not going to hesitate if you become a threat,” you replied coolly, though something in your voice faltered at the end. Just a little.

A pause stretched between you.

Then he said it, almost like a confession to the wind “I’ve seen you before. In dreams.”

The expression you wore froze. You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Your throat tightened, because you’d seen him too every night since you woke up in Elio’s care, with a name you barely remembered and a void where your past should’ve been. A silver haired boy with amber eyes, reaching for you just as you disappeared. And now he was here, real and breathing and looking at you like he knew your soul.

“I don’t know you,” you said, a bit too quickly.

“Maybe not,” Caelus said, a small smile tugging at the edge of his lips, “but I think… I loved you, once.”

Your heart missed a beat. Behind your back, your fingers curled into a fist and you backed up. You hated the way his words made your chest ache. Hated the way the cold mask you wore suddenly felt too heavy. Because if what he said was true if you had loved him once then fate had played a cruel trick and you didn’t know if you had the strength to undo it.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ The world returned in fragments like shards of a broken mirror pressed too close to your eyes. At first, there was only the hum. Low, metallic, steady. Then light. Blinding. Cold. You gasped. Air surged into your lungs like you hadn’t breathed in centuries. You jolted upright with a strangled sound, hand instinctively reaching out for something someone.

But there was only silence. You blinked furiously, vision adjusting to the sterile, glass panelled room around you. Pale walls. A console blinking with unreadable data. You were lying on a bed no, a containment pod, cracked slightly down the side. It smelled like ozone and dust.

“Easy little one.” A voice. Calm, smooth, a touch amused. You turned sharply.

Kafka stood at the foot of the pod, arms crossed, one brow slightly arched. She looked completely unbothered, as if this was routine. As if you were routine. You stared at her like she might be part of the dream.

“Who…?” Your voice rasped out, raw. “Where…?”

“Questions already?” Kafka mused.

You opened your mouth to retort and froze. You didn’t know your name. No, wait you did. Barely. It floated to the surface like a whisper. You clutched it like a lifeline. “…My name is…” You hesitated. “I think it’s [Y/N].”

Kafka nodded slowly, like she was testing the shape of your name against the air. “It suits you.”

You sat there, stunned. Trembling slightly. “What… happened to me?”

She shrugged, a glint in her violet eyes. “A warp event. Something… untraceable. We found you drifting between coordinates with a fractured signal and half a heartbeat. Elio said you’d be important.”

“Elio…?”

“You’ll meet him eventually. For now, it’s just us.” You looked down at your hands. They felt wrong. Or maybe the world did.

“I don’t remember anything,” you whispered.

“No,” Kafka said. “But your instincts remain intact. That’s the part that matters.” You flinched when she stepped closer, but she only placed a hand on your shoulder gentle, grounding. Her smile softened, just slightly.

“Listen to me. You were meant for something greater. A fate rewritten by stars too scared of your potential. Elio saw it. And I do too.”

You stared up at her, desperate, haunted. “Then why do I feel like I’m… missing something?”

Kafka tilted her head, curious. “Missing someone, you mean?” Your breath caught. Because for all the blanks in your memory, there was one thing one constant you couldn’t explain away. Amber eyes, filled with light. A boy smiling at you like you were his entire world. Reaching for your hand as everything around you crumbled.

“I don’t know who he is,” you whispered. “But I see him when I sleep.” Kafka didn’t answer right away.

Then, softly “Maybe one day, you’ll remember. Maybe one day, he’ll find you.” You never remembered the moment you met him. There was no clean origin, no first conversation etched in time just the feeling. Like gravity had shifted in your chest. Like your soul had turned its head toward someone and said, “There you are.”

Even in the days after waking, long before Elio whispered of fate and purpose, you carried that strange ache. It sat beneath your ribs, subtle but persistent. As if your heart had memorized a rhythm it could no longer hear and still beat along with it anyway. And always, him. A boy reaching for you through dreams. Sometimes smiling. Sometimes calling your name. Sometimes standing still at the edge of a world collapsing in gold. You never saw his full face, not really. It shifted with every dream like your memory was afraid to settle. But the feeling stayed the same. Safety. Sadness. Love.

Kafka called it a side effect of a damaged warp phantom memories stitched together by a soul that had jumped too many coordinates, too fast. Elio said nothing. He only looked at you, eyes unreadable, and murmured “Even in broken timelines, some threads find each other again.”

You didn’t know what that meant. Not then. But now standing in this fractured city, staring into Caelus’s eyes you do. Because it’s not a coincidence. Not a trick of dreams or Stellaron interference. It’s older than memory. Deeper than fate. A bond written somewhere before the stars. You and Caelus are mirror souls two halves born in the same cosmic breath, scattered by a universe that didn’t know how to hold you.

Maybe you boarded the Astral Express, once. Maybe you stood beside him, laughed with him, loved him. Maybe you were torn from that path by a warp gone wrong, or a choice you never knew you made. But your souls remember. They reach for each other still in dreams, in battles, in silences where your fingers almost twitch toward his before you stop yourself.

You were meant to walk together. But the universe split you. Now, you’re on opposite sides of a war you don’t fully understand. But the bond? It hasn’t faded. It can’t. Because no matter how much memory was taken, how many times your paths diverged. You are still drawn to him. Still tethered by something ancient and unfinished.

And when Caelus whispered, “I think I loved you, once,” your soul didn’t hesitate. It whispered back “You still do.”

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

At first, you didn’t speak to anyone. You woke, you trained, you followed instructions. No questions. No smiles. No attachments. That was how it started. The other Stellaron Hunters didn’t mind. Blade said nothing, as usual. Silver Wolf barely looked up from her screens. Sam never came close enough for conversation, and Kafka was always watching.

She never pushed, never pried. Just watched, like she already knew the storm inside you and was waiting for the clouds to shift. But it was her, in the end, who pulled you into the rhythm of this strange place. It started with a game.

“You’re watching me again,” you muttered one evening, eyes fixed on the holographic wall map you’d been pretending to study for the last ten minutes.

Kafka leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. “I do that.”

You turned, half expecting mockery in her eyes. Instead, there was something softer faint amusement, edged with quiet interest.

“I’m not broken,” you said flatly. “You don’t have to treat me like I’ll crack open.”

“I never said you were,” she replied, and then, after a pause, “But you are still unfinished.”

“Unfinished?”

Kafka stepped forward, her coat trailing behind her like a slow moving shadow. “You remember fragments. Dreams. Pieces of another life. You haven’t decided yet who you want to be in this one.”

You clenched your jaw. “Maybe I already have.”

“Have you?” she asked, too gently.

You didn’t answer.

Later that night, she left something outside your room.A data pad. A short file. A simulation: sparring tactics against hypothetical enemies. Paired drills. On a whim, you ran the simulation. when you did, it loaded a preset with Kafka’s movement patterns coded as the partner. Every step she made was measured, confident. Every time you moved, the code adapted like she was anticipating you. Like she already knew how you fought. You didn’t sleep that night. Not because of fear or anxiety, but because you became entranced

From then on, things shifted.

You stopped avoiding the others in the corridors. Started nodding back when Silver Wolf greeted you with a lazy two finger wave. Listened when Blade offered one word advice during training. Responded when Kafka teased you, even if it was just with a dry, “Don’t push your luck.”

You began asking questions quiet ones, when no one was around.

“What’s Sam’s story?”

“Why does Blade meditate with his blade drawn?”

“Does Silver Wolf ever lose in those games?”

And every time, Kafka answered. Not always directly. Sometimes with riddles, sometimes with little smiles that said, You’ll figure it out. But she answered. More than that she listened. When you told her about the dreams again, she didn’t tell you to ignore them.

She only asked, “Do you want to remember?”

You did. Even if it hurt.

Weeks passed.

Your coat bore the Hunter insignia now. You walked with purpose in the base’s dim halls. You learned their methods how to dismantle systems, how to fight in sync with someone you weren’t sure you trusted, how to exist beside people who had no need for sentiment, but somehow left space for it anyway. Kafka didn’t change much.

But you started to see the way she lingered when Blade was injured. The way she glanced at Silver Wolf with a sisterly fondness when she thought no one noticed. The way she always made sure you got the missions that aligned with your strengths.

“Why do you help me?” you asked once, after a particularly clean victory where the two of you fought side by side, flawless.

Kafka didn’t miss a beat. “Because I remember what it feels like to be lost. And because Elio says you’re important.”

You scoffed. “You always follow Elio’s predictions?”

Kafka’s lips curved. “Only when I agree with them.” despite yourself, you smiled back.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ Kafka’s voice was calm over the comms.

“Quick in, quick out. Eyes open, [Y/N]. The relay’s still broadcasting faint traces of encrypted Express data. Elio wants to know why.” You crouched behind a collapsed support beam, hand tightening on your weapon. Your breath fogged slightly in the cold air. The station’s artificial gravity pulsed irregularly, like the heartbeat of something half dead.

“I don’t like it here,” you murmured. “Too quiet.”

“You’ll get used to that,” Kafka replied. “Most haunted places start that way.”

The door groaned as it opened rusted metal, reluctant hinges. You stepped inside, Kafka at your back, the hallway stretching before you like the throat of a dying star. The walls were scorched. Burned out terminals flickered and fizzed with leftover sparks. Bits of fabric clung to jagged debris passenger coats, maybe. You stepped over a half buried nameplate that read T78–Celestial Relay: Astral Express Docking Site.

You froze. Astral Express. The words rang in your head like a forgotten lullaby.

“Something wrong?” Kafka asked.

You stared at the nameplate, unsure what to say. “I… I think I’ve been here before.”

Kafka didn’t answer right away. She simply stepped beside you, gaze trailing over the ruined corridor. “Maybe you have.”

You pressed your hand against the wall, fingers brushing a faded imprint someone had drawn stars here once. The paint had nearly chipped away, but you could still make out the rough lines of a train and what looked like… a tiny figure standing at its edge. Your heart clenched. And then A whisper. Soft. Unmistakable.

“–[Y/N], you coming? We don’t leave people behind–”

You whipped around. No one was there. The hallway behind you remained empty, Kafka standing still as a statue beside the doorway.

“What did you hear?” she asked quietly.

You blinked. “That voice. I… I knew it.”

Kafka turned to face you, her expression unreadable. “What did it sound like?”

“Warm,” you whispered, before you could stop yourself. “He called my name like it meant something. Like I was his… crew.”

A slow beat of silence passed. Kafka stepped forward and reached up gently pressed two fingers to your temple. Not unkind. Not forceful. Just enough pressure to draw your attention.

“That’s not just a memory,” she murmured. “That’s a tether.” Your breath hitched.

“I don’t understand.”

“You will,” Kafka said. “Elio predicted this. A place would wake the memories. A name. A sound. You weren’t meant to forget it all. The universe just… paused you. Stalled the connection.”

You turned toward the hallway again. In the distance, barely audible, came another voice. Fainter this time. Familiar.

“Don’t wander off again, [Y/N]…”

Your lips parted. You could see it, just for a second flashing gold windows, March’s laughter, the faint hum of the Astral Express engine purring beneath your feet. It faded as quickly as it came.

“I… was with them,” you said softly, gripping your sleeve. “Before. Before all this. I can feel it.” Kafka studied you with something like pride.

“You’re remembering who you were. The question now is who do you want to be?”

You didn’t answer. Not yet. Instead, you turned back down the hall and whispered, like a promise only the stars could hear,

“I’ll find you.”

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ The first time he saw her, it was in a dream. She stood at the edge of a broken platform, surrounded by stardust. Hair swaying in a nonexistent wind, face turned away, just slightly. The light around her bent like it knew her. Soft, reverent.

She didn’t speak. Caelus woke with his chest aching. At first, he chalked it up to warp sickness. Another leftover hallucination, maybe Stellaron residue playing tricks on his head. It wasn’t new. Flashes of unfamiliar places, déjà vu that made no sense. The usual.

But this was different. Because the girl didn’t fade. She kept showing up. Not just in dreams now, but in thoughts. In echoes. In odd moments where he’d catch his reflection in a terminal screen and think She’s looking for me. He missed her. This random girl.

Without knowing her name. Without knowing if she was real. He missed her. Like his soul had once been stitched to hers, and something some event, some warping twist of fate had torn it in half.

“Hey,” March’s voice snapped him out of it, “you okay?”

He blinked. Realized he’d been staring out the train’s window for who knows how long. The stars looked endless tonight. Cold. Unreachable.

“Yeah,” he lied. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” she teased, leaning in. “Don’t tell me you’re finally getting poetic about the stars. Welt’s going to cry.”

He tried to smile. “Nothing important.”

But even then, he heard it.

A whisper, not quite sound, threading through his mind like a thread through fabric:

“Caelus…”

The way she said it wasn’t scared. Or urgent. It was warm. Familiar.

Intimate.

He rubbed at his temple. “It’s happening again.”

March sobered. “The dreams?”

He nodded. “She’s… everywhere. But I don’t know her.”

“You’re sure she’s not someone we met on another planet?”

“I know I’ve never met her,” Caelus murmured. “But it doesn’t feel that way. It feels like I’ve always known her. Like I’m forgetting something I should never have forgotten.”

March frowned, stepping a little closer. “What does she look like?”

“I don’t know. Her face is always in light. Or in motion. Or…” He sighed. “She’s always just out of reach.”

March crossed her arms. “Sounds like a cosmic love story.”

“Or a curse,” he muttered.

He meant it.

Because it hurt, missing someone you didn’t even know. It made no sense, but she had become a presence an ache under his ribs, a name he didn’t know how to speak.

That night, the dream changed. He was on the Express but not this one. The colors were warmer. The crew felt familiar, yet different. And there she was finally facing him. This time no blur and no haze.

She smiled, soft and sad. Like she knew something he didn’t. Like she’d watched him from afar for a long, long time.

He took a step forward. She held out her hand.

The sound of shattering glass. Light tore across the dream like lightning. Her image cracked, distorted, fell apart.

He screamed her name Except he didn’t know it. He woke up gasping.

He stood in the hallway outside the passenger car now, gripping the rail, heart pounding. The stars outside flickered like they were trying to whisper something back.

“I don’t know who you are,” he murmured, voice rough. “But I think I’m supposed to.”

Though he felt he had loved her once. that love got lost between the stars. But it was finding its way back. He could feel it.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

The moment hung between you like a heartbeat suspended in air fragile, trembling, too afraid to fall.

You didn’t speak.

Couldn’t.

Because if you did, something would break.

Maybe it was the persona you’d built. Maybe it was the invisible wall that Elio insisted you keep between yourself and the rest of the galaxy. Or maybe… it was the feeling you’d been running from since the day you woke up in Kafka’s care:

The ache of knowing someone you’d never met.

Of longing for something you never had.

Of being seen when you had no memory of who you were supposed to be.

And Caelus saw you.

Not the mask. Not the weapon. You.

He stood there, closer than he should have, amber eyes gentler than any soldier’s had a right to be, and you hated how your resolve cracked around the edges just by looking at him.

“I don’t want to fight you,” he said, voice barely above the whine of static in the air. “I just… want to understand.”

Your mouth opened then shut again.

The wind shifted between the broken towers, pulling at your coat. You turned away first. Because if you kept looking at him, you weren’t sure you’d be able to hold your ground.

“I don’t care what you dreamed,” you said finally, trying to sound cold. Detached. “Whatever you think we were… I’m not that girl anymore.”

“I know,” he murmured, and that was somehow worse.

Because he meant it. And he still looked at you like that.

Like he was remembering you, even if you’d forgotten yourself.

Before you could respond, Kafka’s voice crackled in your earpiece.

“Darling. We’ve got what we need. Time to disappear.”

You inhaled sharply through your nose, nodding to nothing. for a second, just before you moved, your hand twitched again reaching out, purely instinct. But then you turned.

You vanished into the fractured skyline, not even a ripple left in your wake. Caelus didn’t follow. He just watched you go, a strange, hollow kind of sorrow nesting in his chest.

“She didn’t try to kill us,” March 7th said flatly.

“Progress,” Dan Heng deadpanned.

Caelus didn’t laugh.

He sat in silence, watching the universe drift past the train’s window. His reflection stared back at him, eyes tired and heart somewhere lightyears behind.

She didn’t remember him.

But her fingers had twitched when she said his name. Like muscle memory. Like muscle memory aching to reach out.

She was the one he’d been dreaming of. The one who didn’t board the Express. The one who was never supposed to walk the path she was on. The one fate had twisted away from him.

Later, after the brief standoff after Kafka led you away with a smile and a smug wave, and after Himeko called the mission a partial success Caelus sat alone in the Express observatory.

He stared out at the stars, but they felt different now.

You were real. And you knew him.

Not just knew of him. You knew him. The way your eyes lingered. The subtle way your fingers twitched when his voice hit the air. The way your name still escaped him but your presence didn’t.

“You okay?” March leaned in from behind, holding a cup of cocoa.

He didn’t turn. Just nodded. “I met her.”

March blinked. “Her?”

“…The one from the dreams.”

Her brows shot up. “Wait, seriously? That’s the girl?”

He nodded again. “She’s with Kafka.”

March made a face. “Of course she is. That explains the cool and mysterious aura coming from your weird head.”

“I don’t think she remembers me fully,” he said softly. “But she said my name.”

“hmmmm this feels kinda crazy,” March said, sitting beside him. “This is like some weird soulmate thing.”

Caelus glanced at her. “Is that even possible?”

She smirked. “With us? Anything’s possible.”

He turned back to the stars.

Somewhere out there, on another ship, or in another world, she had stood beside him. He knew it.

And even if time or fate had pulled them apart he was going to find his way back.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

It was stupid.

Dangerous.

Kafka had already noticed.

“You’ve been requesting missions in Express protected zones a lot lately,” she said one evening, her tone lazy, her gaze razor sharp. “Coincidence?”

You didn’t answer. Just kept cleaning your gear with surgical precision.

“…You saw him again, didn’t you?”

You paused, hand tightening on the cloth.

Kafka smiled like a cat who’d just cornered a bird. “I knew it.”

You didn’t look up. “It’s nothing.”

“Sweetheart, if it were nothing, your hands wouldn’t be shaking.”

They weren’t until she said it.

You shoved the cloth into your bag and stood. “Give me a mission.”

“Where to?”

You hesitated.

“Doesn’t matter,” you lied. “Anywhere near the Express.”

Kafka didn’t tease you. She just tilted her head, watching you like you were a story she already knew the ending to.

“Alright,” she said, voice soft. “Just try not to break his heart too fast.”

You rolled your eyes but your chest twisted. Because you didn’t want to break anything. You just… wanted to see him again.

Even if it was across a battlefield. Even if it was a few glances stolen between chaos. Even if it meant pretending you didn’t feel like the universe was holding its breath every time your paths aligned.

‼️‼️‼️

“Trailblazer, are you sure you need to scout that sector again?” Himeko asked, not unkindly.

“Yes,” Caelus said immediately. “I have a feeling.”

Dan Heng raised a brow. “A feeling.”

“Yeah.”

March grinned. “It’s her, isn’t it?”

Caelus didn’t deny it.

He didn’t know what he was expecting maybe another cold stare, another few seconds of standing too close without touching. But every time he caught a whisper of your presence on a planet, his heart pulled like a compass needle snapping to true north.

lately? You’d been showing up a lot. He started waiting on rooftops after missions, lingering longer than necessary. Hoping. Searching.

One time, he swore he caught your silhouette vanishing behind the smoke of a blown power core. Another, he spotted a shimmer in a crowd just a flicker of your coat as you disappeared into a ship.

You never stayed. you were always there.

You crouched at the edge of a ruined dome, watching the Express land below like a ghost too afraid to knock on the door.

Your comm buzzed.

Kafka: “You just gonna stare again, or say hi this time?”

You didn’t answer. Because you didn’t know how to explain it. That this wasn’t love…. at most you don’t know what that word even meant

He felt like It was gravity. He was the center of something you couldn’t name, and every time you stepped close, the past stirred in your bones like a song you once knew.

And still, you stayed. Watching him laugh with March. Watching him glance over his shoulder, like he felt you nearby. Watching him wait.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

The stars above the shattered dome flickered like dying embers dim, faraway, forgotten. The observatory was dead, a relic from a time when people still believed the cosmos could be mapped, understood, controlled.

Now, it was just quiet. A perfect place to hide. You didn’t know why you were here. Not really. The coordinates had come through a scrambled data trail supposedly a scouting point for a Hunter op. But Kafka had said nothing. She’d just smiled when she saw the file and said, “Go.”

So you went. You didn’t expect him to be there too. But the moment you stepped through the cracked threshold, you knew. The air changed. Like the world itself paused to take a breath.

And then you saw him.

Caelus stood by the remnants of a collapsed telescope, bathed in soft starlight filtering through the fractured glass above. His coat rustled quietly as he turned.

His eyes widened.

“…You.”

You didn’t move. You should’ve run. Should’ve vanished like you always did. your boots felt rooted to the floor, and your chest was tight with something you didn’t have a name for.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you said, voice low.

“I know,” he replied. “But I hoped you would be.”

That stopped you cold.

“…Why?”

“Because I can’t keep pretending you’re just a dream.”

Your heart stuttered.

He took a slow step forward. You didn’t stop him.

“You keep showing up,” he said, quietly. “And every time, I think maybe it’s just a trick. Just my mind trying to make sense of something it can’t remember. But then I see you. And I know.”

You swallowed hard.

“There’s a reason we remember each other,” he went on. “Even if we don’t know how.”

You looked away. “You don’t know who I am.”

“I don’t have to,” he said. “Because when I see you I feel peace. Like the galaxy makes sense for a second.”

That… hurt. Because you didn’t just feel peace when you saw him. You felt everything else. Hope. Ache. Fear. That sharp, impossible longing like something inside you was trying to claw its way out just to reach him.

“I shouldn’t be here,” you whispered.

“well that shouldn’t feeling kinda doesn’t apply here,” Caelus said again, gentler.

Silence stretched between you fragile, sacred. Then, softly, he asked, “Can I come closer?”

You nodded.

He stepped toward you, slow and careful, until there was only a breath between you. For a moment, neither of you moved. Then gently, so gently his hand reached out and hovered near yours. Not touching. Just waiting.

And your fingers… trembled.

You didn’t take his hand.

But you didn’t pull away either. It was the closest you’d been. Not physically emotionally. Soulfully. And for the first time since you woke up with no memories, you didn’t feel lost.

You felt… found.

It just hovered there between you, caught in some invisible tension neither of you had the words to sever. Caelus stayed still too, though you could tell he wanted to say something his eyes kept flicking to your expression, like he was trying to read stars in a language he used to know.

Then, very softly, he chuckled.

You blinked.

“What?” you asked warily.

“I just…” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand, expression going a little sheepish. “I was trying to think of something poetic to say. You know, something like, ‘Even across galaxies, I’d find you,’ or ‘Your eyes remind me of starlight before a warp jump.’” He paused. “But that would be cringe, right?”

You stared at him.

And then against your own instincts you laughed. It was small, quiet, almost disbelieving, but it escaped you anyway. “That’s so cringe.”

“I knew it!” he grinned, victorious. “See? March would’ve roasted me for it too.”

Your lips twitched. “You really are a dork,” you muttered.

“I prefer charmingly knight super cool amazing, thank you very much,” Caelus said, placing a dramatic hand to his heart. “Besides, you were about two seconds away from touching my hand. I saw the twitch. Don’t lie.”

You rolled your eyes, but something in your chest… eased. He noticed. And that dumb little smile of his softened into something quieter.

“I’m not trying to pressure you,” he said. “I just wanted to see you. Talk.”

You didn’t answer right away. The truth was you didn’t know who you were now. Not completely. But sitting here, with the moonlight dusting your boots and this ridiculous boy talking about bad pickup lines in the middle of a ruined observatory. You didn’t feel like a Stellaron Hunter. You didn’t feel like a traitor or a mistake. You felt… normal. For the first time in forever.

Your fingers inched just slightly toward his. Barely enough to count. But Caelus noticed. He grinned.

“So,” he said, voice light again, “should I keep going with the pickup lines, or have I impressed you enough for one night?”

You exhaled slowly.

“…Let’s just sit.”

He nodded. “I’m good at that. Sitting. Part of my best skills.”

You shook your head, but you didn’t pull away when he finally sat beside you close, not touching.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

Caelus couldn’t stop smiling.

It wasn’t his usual half grin or smug little smirk it was a real smile. One of those stupid, giddy ones that made his face hurt and had absolutely no business existing after a trip to a dead observatory.

But here he was. Practically skipping down the corridor of the Express like a guy who’d just gotten a love confession and a puppy all in one day.

He didn’t get what was happening. But he felt it. That weight in his chest that had been following him since the warp it was lighter now. Not gone, but gentler. Like seeing you made the ache less unbearable.

Even if you’d only laughed once. Even if your hand had hovered, not held. Even if you still looked like you were ready to vanish at the first sign of a threat.

It didn’t matter. He’d seen the crack in the mask. He’d seen you.

“Okay, you’re smiling. That’s never a good sign,” a voice called.

Caelus turned just as March 7th leaned dramatically over the back of the lounge couch, a mock suspicious look in her eyes. “Did you get hit on the head, or are you in love?”

“What?” Caelus blinked, then coughed. “Neither!”

“That was the most unconvincing response I’ve ever heard in my life,” March grinned.

“Didn’t even try to lie properly,” Dan Heng muttered from behind his book, not looking up.

“Oh my god.” March gasped and pointed at him. “You’re blushing. Are you blushing?!”

“I am not blushing,” Caelus said, very obviously blushing.

“You totally are!” she squealed. “You went somewhere, didn’t you? You did the secret meeting thing. The ‘forbidden connection across enemy lines’ thing. Like star crossed lovers in a trashy space novel!”

“I just… I ran into her,” Caelus muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “We talked. That’s all.”

March narrowed her eyes. “Define ‘talked.’”

“…There were words.”

“Ooooh. There were feelings,” March declared. “Dan Heng, he’s so doomed.”

Dan Heng sighed without looking up. “I’ll alert the press.”

At the front of the Express, Himeko sipped her coffee until she tilted her head toward Welt with a smirk. “I think the kids are gossiping again.”

Welt glanced up from the terminal, raising an eyebrow. “Should we be concerned?”

“Well, considering our dear Trailblazer seems to be falling for a Stellaron Hunter, I’d say yes,” she said with a knowing smile. “But also… not yet. Let them feel something. They’ve earned it.”

Back near the lounge, Caelus flopped onto the couch beside March and groaned into a pillow.

“I didn’t mean to like her,” he mumbled.

“That’s how it always starts,” March said with faux dramatic flair. “You ‘accidentally’ develop feelings for the mysterious, emotionally complicated girl who may or may not be working for a morally grey space cult.”

“She laughed at one of my dumb jokes,” Caelus admitted, muffled.

March gasped again. “She laughed?! Oh, it’s over for you. You’re done. Pack it up. Go write her name on your locker and doodle hearts in your journal.”

“I don’t have a locker.”

“its a metaphor you stupid hoe,” she said solemnly.

And as the Express continued its course through the stars, the crew kept teasing, bickering, and beneath it all watching over each other. Even if they didn’t say it, they all felt it.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

This sector was too close to the Express’s patrol route, and Kafka had given you a very specific order to avoid unnecessary contact with the crew for your own good, allegedly. But “allegedly” didn’t stop your feet from wandering. And it sure didn’t stop him.

Because Caelus was already there, poking his head around a half crushed console like he was looking for snacks and not violating multiple interdimensional boundaries.

“Psst,” he whispered, ducking behind a pillar like a badly disguised spy.

You stared at him, deadpan. “You followed me.”

“I think the term stumbled across you like fate intended,” he said, peeking out again with a hopeful smile.

You folded your arms. “You almost got spotted by Silver Wolf’s scouts. If I hadn’t looped their surveillance…”

“Okay, so maybe I’m not great at stealth,” Caelus admitted, sheepish. “But I am great at being incredibly charming in the face of mortal peril.”

You opened your mouth to tell him off but then he crouched, balancing on one leg with his arms out like a chicken, and made a dramatic caw noise.

“See? You can’t stay mad at this level of grace.”

You stared. Then pinched the bridge of your nose. And yet… your lips twitched. Damn it.

He grinned wider, clearly catching it. “There it is! The tiniest smile. I knew I could break through that scary, cool Hunter persona.”

“I’m not scary,” you muttered.

“You’re terrifying. In a hot way.”

You rolled your eyes, turning away to hide the heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’re a really weird guy.”

“And yet you keep meeting me,” he said, stepping closer now. “Isn’t that funny?”

It wasn’t funny. It was frustrating. It was dangerous. Every second spent with him risked blowing your cover, ruining your mission. Staying away from the people that hindered the stellarons hunters wishes

But every time he smiled at you like that like you were the only real thing left in the galaxy. You forgot what side you were on.

“Caelus…” you started, voice wavering.

“Yeah?”

“Why do you do this?” Your eyes locked with his. “Why do you keep chasing me when we’re supposed to be enemies?”

He hesitated, surprised by the weight in your voice.

Then he shrugged, quietly this time. “Because even when I close my eyes, I still see you. And I think… if I stop chasing that, I’ll regret it forever.”

Something in your chest cracked open. The longing. The ache. The static in your blood. It surged all at once.

You didn’t think. Didn’t plan. You just grabbed his collar and kissed him. Hard. The impact startled him his hands flying to steady you, your fingers curled in his jacket like you’d fall apart if you let go. It was clumsy, fierce, desperate.

You felt his breath hitch. Felt his fingers tighten. Though suddenly. The static surged. Your knees gave out and the world tilted. You collapsed into his arms, your consciousness slipping like smoke.

“Whoa! Wait!” Caelus caught you before you hit the ground, wide eyed. “Okay, not how I imagined our first kiss going hey, are you okay? Are you? Oh god, did I break you?!”

He knelt, cradling you gently, brushing hair from your face as your breathing steadied but your eyes stayed shut.

“…You kissed me,” he whispered, stunned.

Then, more softly.

“…Please wake up so I can tell you how i really feel”

A few moments pass and you’re still completely knocked out.

“She’s not waking up. She’s not waking up. She’s not okay okay it’s fine, I’ve definitely… totally… handled something like this before…”

He hadn’t. Caelus was not fine. You were unconscious in his arms, and he had no idea why. He was racing back toward the Express through dimensional shrapnel and twisted corridors like he was running from the universe itself. Every few seconds, he glanced down to make sure you were still breathing.

You were. Shallow, but steady. Thank every star in the sky.

“I mean, you kiss a girl, and she immediately collapses that’s gotta be a record, right?” he muttered, mostly to keep from screaming. “Cool, Caelus. Real smooth. She finally kisses you and the stellaron hunter gets beaten by a kiss. note to tell Dan heng to use that on blade later”

His foot snagged on a floating stone, and he nearly tumbled. He tightened his hold, shielding your head.

“Sorry, sorry gotcha,” he said softly, eyes flicking to your face. “You don’t look hurt. You just… fainted? Did I do something wrong? Was it the hair? Be honest, you hate the hair, don’t you?”

No answer. Just the soft, steady rise and fall of your chest.

The Express came into view. Warm lights. Familiar hum. A tether back to sanity. He bolted inside, panting. “Emergency! Kind of! I mean, not me okay, yes me, but mostly her!”

March’s head whipped up from the couch. “Is that?!”

Dan Heng appeared instantly at the sound of frantic footsteps, and Himeko turned from the navigation console.

“What happened?” she asked sharply, crossing the room. “Isnt she that girl youre always talking about?”

“I I don’t know! I mean, I do, but I don’t she’s the girl from the dimensional fault. She kissed me long story and then she just collapsed.”

“You kissed the enemy?” March asked, voice pitched somewhere between scandalized and amazed. “Oh my, Caelus!”

“She kissed me!” he hissed, glancing down at you. “And then passed out, which is not how kisses usually go right? That’s not normal?”

Welt Yang stepped in, grave and composed as always. “Where exactly did this happen?”

“Fragmented zone, a relay station near the collapsed ruins. She was fine then not. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You made the right choice,” Himeko said gently, already checking your pulse.

“She’s… she’s okay, right?” Caelus asked, voice cracking as he dropped to his knees beside you.

Welt nodded slowly. “Stable vitals. No external trauma. But her energy readings are odd.”

“Odd how?” Caelus asked.

March peeked over Welt’s shoulder. “Like Stellaron odd? Trailblazer odd? Or, like, cute girl with dangerous secrets odd?”

Welt exhaled. “Yes.”

Caelus swallowed hard. He looked at your face again. Still so still.

“Hey,” he murmured, taking your hand carefully. “You can’t just… leave me hanging like that. You can’t kiss me and ghost me in the same breath. That’s rude.”

March elbowed Dan Heng. “Yo i love the guy but has he ever been serious”

“I don’t think so,” Dan Heng replied dryly.

“I’m serious,” Caelus said, voice softer now. “You gotta wake up soon. I don’t care who you are. Or what you think you have to be. I just… I want to know you. The real you.”

Your fingers didn’t twitch.

But your heartbeat, quietly, began to quicken. The cabin of the Astral Express felt too quiet. You were still unconscious, resting in the medbay with March standing guard just in case you woke up and decided to, you know, unleash chaos. Dan Heng was nearby, arms crossed, calm but clearly on edge.

And Himeko… was doing something no one expected.

“She’s calling Kafka?” March whispered, wide eyed. “That’s… wow. That’s like dialing a volcano and asking it politely not to erupt.”

“I’m not asking,” Himeko said smoothly, tone neutral as she tapped into the comms. “I’m informing. She’s going to want to know her operative’s alive and on board. I’d prefer that information come from us than from, say… a surveillance drone.”

“Or a giant explosion,” Caelus mumbled from where he slumped against the wall.

March shot him a look. “You really kissed her, huh?”

“She kissed me,” he repeated, quietly now. “And then she collapsed. Not exactly the grand romantic moment I imagined.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘cursed,’” March offered helpfully.

Before he could spiral further, Welt Yang appeared beside him and nodded toward the back car. “Walk with me?”

Caelus didn’t argue. They ended up on the observation deck, stars stretched out endlessly through the glass windows. The silence was nice. Heavy, but nice.

“You���ve been quiet,” Welt said after a while.

“Trying not to panic,” Caelus admitted. “Not doing a great job.”

Welt studied him with the patience of someone who’d seen too many wars and too many versions of the same story. “You’re allowed to panic. But you’re also allowed to hope.”

Caelus leaned his head against the window, watching a comet streak by. “She was… cold. Distant. But when she looked at me, it felt like someone lit up the whole room. Like a puzzle piece finally clicked, even if it didn’t make sense.”

“And the kiss?”

“Unplanned. Very… wow. And then terrifying.”

Welt chuckled quietly. “Feelings can do that. Especially when they come from somewhere deeper than memory.”

“You think she’s really?”

“I think the universe has a way of trying again when it gets something wrong,” Welt said gently. “You two… may have been pulled apart by something beyond your control. That doesn’t mean you can’t find your way back.”

Caelus swallowed the knot in his throat.

“I just what if she wakes up and remembers who she is, and it means she leaves? Or worse, tries to finish what she started?”

“Then you face that moment with the same bravery you faced her now. With heart.”

Caelus looked up at him.

“…You’re good at this.”

Welt smiled, faint but kind. “I’ve had practice.”

The silence stretched between them comfortably this time. Then March’s voice crackled over the intercom.

“Uh, guys? So… Kafka responded. She’s coming. ETA fifteen minutes.”

Caelus stiffened.

Welt simply exhaled. “Well. Time to prepare for company.”

“And by company,” Caelus muttered, “you mean the scariest lady who might murder me for smooching her agent.”

“She might also say ‘thanks,’” Welt mused.

“…That would be a miracle.”

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

She came with the wind. No ship announced her arrival. No screeching engines or blaring alarms warned the crew. Just a sudden, eerie stillness like the Express itself recognized the presence walking its halls and chose to hold its breath.

Caelus stood in the medbay doorway, arms crossed tight against his chest, heart hammering like it still hadn’t caught up to the kiss or the collapse that followed.

You hadn’t stirred. Not once. He didn’t know what terrified him more the silence from your body… or the way he wasnt sure what everything meant

Then she appeared. Kafka stepped through the door like a queen entering her court graceful, confident, her long coat fluttering gently with her stride. Eyes sharp and knowing. Expression unreadable, but tinged with something… fond. Like she’d expected this.

“Well,” she murmured, surveying the scene. “You’re earlier than I thought, Caelus.”

He blinked. “You… expected this?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, her gaze fell on you, lying still and pale on the cot, a faint glimmer of light pulsing beneath your skin where your mask once was.

Kafka smiled softly.

She walked closer and crouched beside you, brushing a gloved hand over your forehead in a rare moment of gentleness. “She always did overdo things when emotions were involved. Even across timelines, some things stay the same.”

Caelus stepped forward, jaw tight. “What happened to her?”

Kafka tilted her head. “She remembered you. More than she was supposed to. More than her mind this version of her was ready to accept.”

“What do you mean, ‘this version’?” Caelus asked slowly, dreading the answer.

Kafka looked up at him. “She’s not from here. Not exactly.”

Silence. Dan Heng, March, Welt, and Himeko stood nearby, tension bleeding into the room like fog.

“She’s a splinter,” Kafka continued. “A fracture of someone that once existed in a timeline that was… erased. In that version of the world, she boarded the Express. Just like you. She was one of yours.”

“…Ours?” Caelus echoed.

“You were happy,” Kafka said with a smile. “Close. Devoted. She loved you, Caelus. More than duty, more than fear. Enough to leap across timelines when fate collapsed around her.”

His breath caught. Kafka rose, brushing imaginary dust from her gloves. “Elio found her adrift. Not quite nothing, not quite whole. And I well, I’ve always had a soft spot for lost causes.”

March folded her arms. “So… you knew she didn’t belong with the Stellaron Hunters?”

“She belonged where her heart led her,” Kafka replied coolly. “We never forced her to stay. She chose to remain. But I knew the day would come when the two of you would meet again. Some things are inevitable.”

Himeko narrowed her gaze. “Then why bring her in at all?”

Kafka looked at her. Smiled. “Because sometimes, a storm needs a place to land.”

“…That’s not an answer,” Dan Heng said.

“No,” Kafka replied, unbothered. “It isn’t.”

She turned back toward Caelus then. Her tone gentled. “She found you again. Against all odds. And even without memories, her soul still remembered.”

Caelus swallowed. His voice felt hoarse. “So what now?”

“Now?” Kafka took a step toward him, something unreadable in her eyes. “Now you wait. Be patient. She’s strong. Stubborn. She’ll come back to you.”

Then, a pause deliberate and teasing. She leaned closer. “And be good, Caelus.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Be. Good,” she repeated with a sly smile. “Or I’ll steal her back.”

He flushed. “she came to me, you know.”

Kafka’s grin widened. “Soulmates do that. No matter the odds. No matter the sides.”

He stared at her. She softened. Just a fraction.

“Even when she was one of us,” she said quietly, “she still looked at the stars and dreamed of you. You’d think that kind of devotion would die between timelines, but… it doesn’t.”

Caelus’s chest ached.

“She loved you then,” Kafka whispered. “And if you’re lucky, she’ll love you again.”

Her gaze turned thoughtful.

“Opposing sides don’t mean much to the heart. What matters is how hard you’re willing to love, even when the universe tries to tear you apart.” Then she brushed past him, heading toward the door.

“Wait,” Caelus said. “Are you just going to leave her?”

Kafka smiled over her shoulder. “She’s exactly where she needs to be.” And with that, she was gone. Silence returned. Caelus stood there for a moment, eyes on your still form. Then, quietly, Welt stepped to his side again.

“Well,” he said gently, “you heard the woman.”

Caelus exhaled shakily. “Yeah…”

“She’ll come back.”

Caelus nodded. “Yeah.” And when she does, he thought, I’m not letting go again.

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ It starts with light. Soft, golden, and endless. You’re weightless, drifting. Not through space through memory. Through pieces of yourself you didn’t know were missing. At first, the visions are disjointed, blurred at the edges. Like film caught between frames. A laugh. Your own. It’s bright, full of something warm. Something forgotten. You’re standing in the Astral Express kitchen, sleeves rolled up, flour on your cheek. March 7th is beside you, wielding a spoon like a sword. Across the counter, Caelus is dramatically pretending to faint as he eats a cookie you baked.

“It’s so good,” he gasps, flopping over a chair like a dying man. “I’m ascending Himeko, if I die, bury me with ten of these.”

You hit him with a dish towel. “Eat like a normal person.”

“I am! This is how Trailblazers eat. enjoying every second of this. Very cool.” You’re smiling so wide it hurts. The scene melts.

FLASH.

You and Dan Heng are leaning over a terminal together. He’s explaining star coordinates, but your attention keeps drifting. Not because you’re bored but because you’re waiting. Waiting for that familiar, goofy voice behind you. Sure enough.

“You’re cheating on me with star maps again?” Caelus says, mock offended.

“Jealous of numbers?” you tease, turning to him.

“I’m jealous of anything that takes your attention for more than thirty seconds.” Dan Heng clears his throat, but you swear he’s hiding a smile.

FLASH

It’s night. Or what passes for night on the train. You and Caelus are sitting on the edge by the door, legs dangling over the edge. Your heads are tilted toward the stars, shoulders touching.

No words. Just the sound of the universe breathing between you.

“I think I found home,” he whispers.

You blink. Look at him.

He doesn’t turn to you, but his hand finds yours in the dark.

“I think,” he continues, voice quieter now, “it’s not a place. I think it’s a person.”

“did you read that in a romance book?”

“shhhhh, you’re crazy you’re thinking too much. close your eyes and just embrace it”

You squeeze his hand back.

FLASH.

Battle. You’re bleeding. Something had gone wrong on a mission fight with a Fragmentum creature. You’re cornered, dizzy, staggering but then Caelus is there. Always.

He pulls you back against him, shielding your body with his own, teeth gritted, eyes wild with fear.

“I got you,” he pants. “Stay with me, okay? Just don’t go.”

You look up at him.

You smile.

“Like I’d leave you, dummy.”

FLASH.

You’re in the observation car, curled on one of the long benches. The stars are streaming by, casting the room in slow, celestial motion. Caelus walks in with two mugs and stops in his tracks when he sees you. You feign sleep. He sits beside you anyway. Then, softly, with that grin you’ve always hated because it makes your heart ache.

“I don’t know what I did in the past to deserve you,” he says, voice like a secret, “but I’d do it again. A thousand times.” Your heart clenches. Because something inside you remembers.

FLASH.

That ruined city. The fault zone. His face. You hear his voice again.

“I’ve seen you before. In dreams.”

“I think… I loved you, once.”

And for the first time, your consciousness stirs. The dreams fracture. Like mirrors catching too much light. The voice calling you back isn’t Kafka’s. It’s his.

Caelus.

You try to reach. To swim toward the sound. But something holds you back like the universe hasn’t decided if you’re ready to wake. Then, one final whisper reaches you. Not a memory. Not a dream. Just a feeling, laced in the warmth of amber eyes.

“Come back to me.”

You move.

There was no light when you first stirred just warmth. A soft hum beneath you. A scent in the air like metal and tea. And someone breathing. Slow, steady, near. Your eyelids fluttered open, lashes blinking against the low glow of the Astral Express’s medical bay. Everything felt strangely quiet thick, like sound and time had been layered under water. You blinked again. Once. Twice.

Then you saw him.

Slouched in a chair beside the bed, head tucked in his arms, was him. Caelus. He looked so much softer like this. Asleep, or maybe just resting his eyes. Hair slightly mussed, coat slipping off one shoulder, mouth slightly open like he had passed out mid thought. Your heart gave a small, traitorous flutter.

You whispered, “…Caelus?”

His head jerked up so fast you thought he might give himself whiplash. His amber eyes locked onto yours in an instant, and something shattered across his face. He bolted upright, nearly tripping over the chair in his scramble to get to your side.

“Hey hey! You’re awake! You’re actually awake! Not, like, fake half awake. Awake awake.” His hands hovered awkwardly over you, unsure if he was allowed to touch. “I Himeko said it could take a week, or a month, or uh, anyway, it’s been three days, and I’ve been sitting here the whole time and” You reached up and gently touched his wrist.

“I think…” you murmured, voice hoarse but steady, “I think I love you.” He froze like you’d physically unplugged his brain.

“W what?”

Your body ached, your throat still burned, and your thoughts swam like drifting stars but the feeling in your chest was real. Unmistakable. A tether that led back to him, no matter the timeline. You sat up slowly he instantly reached out to help you, like you might fall apart again and when you moved forward to hug him, his arms instinctively opened.

“Waitwaitwait!” He pulled back with sudden panic, palms bracing your shoulders like a human seatbelt. “Are you gonna kiss me again? Because the last time you did that, you passed out in my arms and scared me half to death. Not that it was a bad kiss honestly, it was amazing, I’m still recovering but I don’t want you to, like, die on me again. My heart can’t take it.” You stared at him. Then laughed. Softly. Genuinely.

Even now when he was clearly shaken, clearly not over what happened he was still him. A little weird. A little dramatic. A little too honest. It calmed you. Grounded you. You leaned in again slower this time and pressed your forehead against his.

“I’m not yours,” you said quietly. “Not the one you have ever met

He nodded, eyes dimming slightly. “Yeah. I figured.”

“But you…” You closed your eyes. “You’re not my Caelus either.”

A breath passed between you. And then, you whispered, “But I think… you’re still my home.”

His breath caught. He didn’t say anything at first. Just stared at you, that chaotic, sincere expression melting into something gentler. Something he hadn’t let himself hope for.

Then, his hand brushed the side of your cheek tentative, reverent. And he smiled.

“…You really know how to knock a guy off his feet, huh?”

You leaned into his touch, eyes fluttering shut.

“You’ve been doing it to me since before I even knew your name.”

[honestlyanowl]

(REQUESTS ARE OPEN)

Content: nsfw - modern au, drug usage, punishment sex, fingering, brattish sub!reader x top!caitlyn

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

You yelped as her hand left a large red mark over your thigh, legs wobbling together, making a futile kick as she pried them back open.

“What? You think you can always get away with this shit?” Caitlyn’s accent was heavy, and smothered in an appalled tone.

She was pissed.

“I told you I didn’t want you out in that- fucking dress!” Her free hand clawed into your hip as she slammed her hand forward, stuffing her slender fingers deeper into you.

Hot tears streamed down your cheeks, eyelashes fluttering, and your hands desperately grabbing at Caitlyn’s shoulders.

“Brat!” Her voice rasped, and you swear for a moment you saw white, your abused walls clamping down around the digits in a panic.

You felt like you were being split open.

All over that stupid dress, that one time you decided to just do what you wanted- selfishly thinking you would be able to take the repercussions.

A harsh slap to your clit send you reeling back to reality; sharp tingles rushing through your abdomen.

“C-cait! Can’t- take it..!” You cry, pupils blown wide with the linger of alcohol, and maybe the fact she almost had four fingers forced into you.

You knew you should’ve listened, and yet you decided to be ignorant, wearing a dress that showed off far too much cleavage for strangers, and a material that clung to your curves like shrink plastic.

“And I can’t take your bullshit,” Caitlyn raises her thumb and applied an almost painful amount of pressure onto your clit, “Fucking slut.”

Your abdominal muscles rippled under the tight pressure building in your core, every time you’d try to reply the air would be knocked out of you.

Her nails dig into your walls, and even her fingers seemed to momentarily tense, unsure if she’d drawn blood.

“Answer me!” Caitlyn’s spare hand lifted to hold your leg up, not allowing you to close them again.

“No! N-no.. not a- slut!”

Caitlyn lets up on the pace a little, watching the way you gasped and writhed under her, who did you think you were?

“Hng- hah~!” Your throat burnt from the strain of your lewd noises, back arching off the mattress as small stars began to brim your vision.

Caitlyn cocked a brow, pulling her fingers from you a second before you were able to reach the peak of your high.

“Did I say you could cum..?”

God, you barely got to see her like this ever, and it was so different compared to her usual self, though, not that you really minded.

You shook your head, that sweet curl that’d built in your stomach had vanished, and it left you in a unsatisfied mess.

“Noo! M’pleasse.. cait..” you mewl and whimper, hands reaching up to her like a starved puppy.

She cooed down at you, wiping the fingers off on the sheets.

“Do you deserve it..?” She scoffed, observing the way you squealed and pleaded with her, and yet she refused to do more than look at you, with a knowing gaze.

“I’ll have to think on it.” She muses whilst standing, straightening out her expensive gown and tossing a cloth blindly toward you.

You felt a tad humiliated, but at least it wasn’t as tense as the drive home had been.

“Clean yourself, then we’ll talk.”

I’ll admit it’s not the best smut I’ve written but I did the majority of this in a public cafe, cut me some slack 😭🙏

- Owl 🧸

[cr3stawrites]

A Dance to Remember

Bridgerton AU!Finnick Odair x Reader - not necessarily a part of the Aurora universe, but the nickname Aurora IS used, so.

Synopsis: Finnick Odair has just returned from an excursion from Rome, ready for a new social season. He just didn’t expect to fall in love immediately with a lady at the first ball he attended.

1260 words warnings: it's 1810s london society, fancy words to be used. finnick odair is in love xx, pure fluff really

part two

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When Finnick Odair came back from his excursion from Rome for the newest social season, he didn’t think he’d fall in love. Less much from the first ball he attended for the season.

She was perfect, beautiful, one of the most beautiful ladies he had ever had the honor of seeing. And Finnick has had a lot of debutantes show interest in him the past few years — so he has seen his fair share of women in society.

But her?

No other debutantes or ladies could compare to the sight of her for him.

It was love at first sight for him, and she was stunning. He had heard of her family, and how financially unstable they were to lead that they had missed last year’s season for that reason. But he didn’t think that was something to judge the family for, look at the Featheringtons for Heaven’s sake.

But that was not the point. For Finnick felt like the whole world stopped when the pair met eyes and stared for a moment, despite her dancing with another gentleman. Finnick couldn’t help but smile as she turned back around.

At that moment, Finnick was very sure that he was in love, he watched her on the dance floor for the next dance, drinking his lemonade as she made conversation with another gentleman. But she looked rather bored when he spoke to her, something about reading and other homely skills.

When the song was over, Finnick was determined to dance with her — and he could also be her knight in shining armor from the dreadful conversation of this man. He walked over and gave her the smirk that he had perfected over the years.

Finnick tried to gauge a reaction from her, but so far, she seems interested, but not falling at the knees like most other debutantes or societal ladies did. It made him feel fuzzy on the inside, knowing someone wasn’t falling for him or trying so desperately to impress him.

“May I have your next dance my lady?” Finnick asked, smiling when she did and took his hand before curtsying before him.

“I would very much enjoy that, Mr. Odair.” She said, a smile on her face. “Thank you for the dance, Sir Kentington.”

With that, Finnick took her far, far away from the man she was dancing, towards the edge of the floor as the music started up again.

Her soft primrose colored dress went perfectly with his usual evening wear, and how she spun when he lifted his arm to do so, her dress swirled like a calm and sweet tornado.

“It’s nice to see someone that doesn’t step on my feet for once,” Finnick mused, smiling as she also smiled, even letting out a small chuckle at his words.

“Well, unlike my fellow ladies, I was taught that it wasn’t ladylike to step on a gentleman’s shoes…but I’ll occasionally step on one’s toes if they annoy me much.” She mused, grinning at Finnick.

Finnick couldn’t help but laugh, but he made sure it was quiet as he looked at her. “At least I know that I don’t annoy you so much that you feel the need to step on my toes.”

“Oh, never, Mr. Odair.”

Finnick had to hold back the need to blush, he wasn’t sure why that comment hit him particularly hard, but maybe it was just the sound of her voice, or how she said it, that made him want to blush.

Yet, as much as Finnick hated how quickly the song ended, she seemed to hate it as well.

“I am…quite danced out, I suppose.” She said, her smile returning as Finnick seemed to grin at an idea he had.

Finnick leaned in slightly, his breath on his cheek as he whispered; “I say we shall enjoy the night stars then.”

When he felt her nod, Finnick took her hand and gently guided her out to the balcony to the stars. It fell silent for a while, the two taking in the gardens in front of them and the starry sky above them.

Finnick quite liked this, the silence. The fact that she wasn’t trying to desperately make conversation with him. The silence was welcomed, the silence was shared.

It was perfect.

“I quite like the stars,” Finnick said, not looking away from the stars. “Do you?”

“I have an interest in Astrology, I say I quite enjoy them very much.” She replied, their quiet conversation replacing the wind blowing through them. “Not as much as I loved seeing an Aurora Borealis before.”

Finnick’s eyes widened with excitement as he turned his head to look at her. “You’ve seen—?”

She laughed. “Yes, in the countryside, last season. I didn’t get to attend last season, so being in the countryside, it was quite peaceful. I saw them one night while I was horse riding.”

Finnick looked amazed. “I bet it was beautiful.”

“It was. But it's not as beautiful as tonight.” She said, finally turning her head to meet his eyes. “I have met the most kindest gentleman tonight, and I do hope he gives me a call tomorrow.”

Finnick turned red, and he looked around.

“Me?” Finnick asked when he realized that there was no one around.

“You.” She chuckled, finding his behavior adorable. “If that so pleases you, Mr. Odair?”

Finnick nodded, his cheeks turning even more red as he grabbed her hand gently. “Yes, I would very much like to call on you tomorrow.” He said, looking joyous at the idea of seeing her tomorrow.

Her eyes gleamed with joy at his words. “Oh, that’s lovely! I’ll be eagerly awaiting.”

With that, she gave him another curtsy once again. “But I fear I must go now, Mr. Odair. I fear if someone spots us, we would end up on Lady Whistledown’s very next issue.” She said, looking slightly diminished.

Finnick looked diminished as well, a frown on his face as he held her hand. “Well, that’s a regret. But anything to protect my Aurora’s standing in society, I would not want her to be scorned just for a simple meeting.”

She blushed, her cheeks filled with a gorgeous pink tint as she took in his words. “Aurora? Is that a nickname you will call me?”

“I believe that it suits you well, my lady. Does it not?” Finnick mused, lifting their joined hands to his lips, where he pressed a soft kiss to the back of her hand.

They stayed silent for a few moments as they met each other’s eyes, the pink tint on both of their cheeks grew as they seemed to assess each other. It just made Finnick all the more knowing that this was the girl he would be with, his love. His Aurora.

As Finnick put her hand down, and they reluctantly let go of their joined hands, she gave him one last small smile.

“Goodnight, Mr. Odair.” She whispered, giving him one last curtsy before turning to leave.

Finnick watched her leave, a lovesick smile on his face as the stars shone bright. And just barely, if you looked close enough — you could see the beginnings of an Aurora Borealis beginning to take its place in the night sky.

A transformation was coming, and it would shape Finnick Odair, a poor orphan boy who was then raised by an elderly older woman by the name of Mags Flanagan, for the better.

And Finnick Odair couldn’t wait for it to come, if it meant he had his Aurora by his side.

[coeurify]

repost the period vampire ellie fic!

middle of the night,, vamp!ellie

a/n: this is a repost from early this year so excuse any change in writing style!

warnings: vampire!ellie. period sex. oral!r receiving fingering!r receiving. sort of a dreamy, less modern vibe. if u aren’t into it.. just don’t read it.

˚✦　.　　. 　  ˚　.　 . ✦　˚　 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔

Some times--Most times, you only saw her at night. When darkness enveloped the small town you called home, when the stars rocked the sleepy eyed humans to sleep and the moon hummed the lullaby that quieted the crickets outside, she came.

Only then did you ever hear the distinct creaking of the splitting wood on your window panes being pressed up. Only then did the white of your sheer curtains move with more than the wind, the grip of the air nothing compared to the long hand that often wrapped around the fabric and pushed it open. When the moon was the only light filtering into your room, you saw the green of her eyes.

Tonight was no different, despite one little issue. Often, the woman who visited you under the cover of midnight would arrive to your eyes closed in sleep. She would press a hand to your warm cheek before waking you, greeted by your sleepy excitement each time.

This time, you had not been able to sleep. A heat had taken over your body, tight in your stomach with a pain you would compare to that of claws gnawing at your insides. Sweat beaded between your brows with every swift turn under your uncomfortable sheets, lip tugged between your frustrated teeth to stop any whines of discomfort. That had been what your favorite visitor heard as her shaking palms found the wood of your window. Your pained grunts floated through her buzzing ears as she quietly made her way into your room, auburn hair messy behind her ears as her figure became visible, head tilted as she looked across the room to your heated body.

“El,” you whined, wiping your forehead with a hand, not at all concerned about her chosen point of entry. “Go away.”

Ellie’s gaze softened, a scoff sounding from behind your squeezed shut eyes. “Go away?” she mused, her voice much closer now.

The split second your eyes had been closed, Ellie had somehow silently made it to your bedside. You don't question it, you never do.

When a girl like Ellie sports small fangs and a taste for blood, her speed is the last thing you think to question.

“I don't feel well, don’t want you here.” you add, mouth pulled into pout as you look up at the freckled face of Ellie.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong, bunny? Instead of shooing me away,” Ellie requests, sitting on the edge of your bed. Her cold hand finds your sweaty arm, sighing. “You’re burning up.”

Your neck tickles with heat as Ellie questions your current state, and you fall wordless. Somehow, it was more embarrassing to admit to your vampire visitor that you were starting your period than to simply tell her to leave. Obviously however, Ellie was not taking the second option as a valid answer.

“I started my period, nothing is helpin’ the cramps,” you explain softly, pressing your hand into the sheets of your bed to try and sit, to maybe find some sort of relief to the growing tension in your stomach. But the other set of hands is faster.

“Lay down,” Ellie insists, glancing down at you. You can almost see the cogs of her brain turning behind the evergreen in her eyes, a sort of fogginess settling over the color.

“Let me help you,” she eventually says.

“What? I told you nothi-”

Ellie presses her lips together to hush you, one wandering hand finding the dip of your hip, blunt nail tracing the goosebump coated flesh there. Sometimes she liked being so cold, simply because she enjoyed seeing how you reacted to it. If she was damned for what she was, she may as well use some of it to her advantage.

“What are you doing?” You couldn't help the shiver that followed her movements.

Suddenly your mouth feels dry, tongue unable to wet the plump fat of your lip. The scratching in your throat finds no comfort when you swallow, only further irritating your vocal chords. A choked noise finds the heavy bedroom air as fingers tug at your cotton shorts.

“Helping you,” Ellie repeats, her own mouth much more wet than yours. Even in the dim light of the moon you can see the glistening dew on her parted lips. Usually the look she currently wears is saved only for when her pearly teeth find the sensitive and already scarred skin of your neck. Not for.. this.

Your hands immediately slap to your heated cheeks. “Oh my god Ellie, no fucking way.”

The vampire, who had now moved below you on the bed, hums in disagreement to your little show of kicking feet, a hand too strong to be that of a human halting all movements.

“We always have fun when I come over,” The freckles of her face disappear as she glances down, fully pulling down your shorts.

“Not when I’m on my period,” you hiss quietly, the words feeling cracked and embarrassed as they leave your mouth. You could deny the growing arousal in your belly simply by how *mortified* you felt. Even with the churning feeling of deeply settled embarrassment, you make no further moves to stop Ellie. Not as the shorts fall to the floor with a dull thump.

“It’ll help,” Ellie soothes, the near frigid temperature of her hand calming the heat that rises on the skin of your legs. “Haven’t you heard things like this help with cramps?”

The words that are spoken almost teasingly fall upon deaf ears as her wet lips press right above your knee. “Please,” the auburn haired girl whispers, sounding a lot more breathy than before. “Please, let me taste you. Let me make you feel better. ”

Ellie had a tendency to become a little less cold, figuratively at least, when she found her body nestled between your own. The unwavering voice you had grown oh so accustomed to always slid into a more mushy sounding version whenever it got intimate. Today, it seemed even worse. The words dripped with the sweet sounds of neediness, a sound that tasted sweet on your tongue, which swiped nervously over your dry lips.

“El..” Another kiss pressed further up the flesh of your warm thigh broke any following denial. “Fuck..” your chin wobbles, almost too embarrassed to actually say your following words, “Yea. Please help.”

You were sure if you believed something was watching down on you from the sky, it was with horror. Some people may call what Ellie was doing sinful. The angels in the clouds would shrilly gasp as fingers wrapped around your panties and tugged them and everything else from your bottom half, tossing them into the growing pile of clothes. Her shirt came next, the simple white cloth acted as something to watch as it pulled off of her chest, likely to avoid any mess. Some may call the sight of her dipping down again, green eyes looking up at your quivering lip, sinful. Maybe it was, surely the mewl you made when her lips found the heated flesh of your inner thigh was. But if you had to describe it, that wasn't the word you would use. You may even swear it was heavenly.

“Relax,” Ellie drawled, spreading your thighs further apart, despite the slight tremble to them. “I’ve got you, don't worry,” her voice soothed you enough to tilt your head back against the pillow, squeezing your eyes closed. The embarrassment simmered low in your belly, even more so when you could feel the arousal that dripped from you, which your vampire visitor had no problem pointing out. “So wet for me,” she groaned, lips still refusing to find home anywhere other than your thighs. Teeth sharper than your own nipped at the skin there, bucking your hips up. “You want this, don’t you?”

It was an obvious request for another confirmation of what was to come, but your chest felt too tight to reply, no air finding your lungs the moment her breath hovered over your pulsing core. “Tell me you want it,” she requests again, voice dipping into a softer territory again, searching for your approval. Her resolve was cracking however, jaw clicking as she tried her best not to dive straight into where she craved to be.

“I do,” you whine, eyes still closed as you answered, words met with the quick and overwhelming feeling of her tongue pressing flat against your wet center. You couldn’t think too hard about the fact she was doing this right now, not when the sharp gasp had come from two mouths instead of one, a quick call of, “Fuck,” from only you this time followed. Ellie had no words, not as her tongue made another long stripe up your pussy, going much slower than you liked. It led one small roll of your hips down into her, a sign for what you searched for.

It resulted in a hand gripping your hip, pressing you further down into the mattress, ceasing any attempt to control the movements. Her mouth pressed further into you, licking at the same excruciatingly slow pace, seemingly taking her time to enjoy the taste she found between your thighs. “El,” you gasp, eyes fluttering open to glance down at her. However her eyes were closed, another press further into you came, her nose bumping your clit as she licked into you. The rush it brings is almost enough to completely paint over the lingering cramping in your stomach.

The dizzying mixture of pain and pleasure seeps into your bones, making you feel too heavy to do much else than move a hand to find Eliie’s hair, fingers tangling between the auburn strands. You tried again to guide her movements, but she was much stronger than you, paying little mind to the shaky hand that tugged at her locks.

“Taste so fuckin..” she sucked in a breath, unable to keep from dipping back into your folds, humming. “So fuckin’ good,” she finishes, words reverberating against your throbbing core. It had you trying to squirm, held down by the stone light weight of Ellie’s grip. The deeper she licked, the more you fought against her. Your body ached the do something.. anything to find comfort in the overwhelming feeling of her still slow pace. The fingers in her hair tugged again, finding a low groan in response.

The air of the room had already been heavy on your feverish skin, but now it was nearing a state of unbearably humid. Every time Ellie’s tongue made a particularly aimed movement you felt another round of fire straight in the mess that was your clenching core. It all felt so heightened, so much better. The sticky feeling on your skin did not slow either of you down, and you had little care for the sweat beading on your flesh. Not when your favorite girl’s lips were doing such mind numbing things to you.

Had you told your past self, even that of just an hour ago, that you would have allowed it to happen.. They would have laughed in your heated face. The past version of you would have sworn up and down, prayed up to the mysterious sky, that this would never happen. But now- now you have no room for denial or regret. Your mind was becoming too cloudy to house thoughts of shame, questions of if this was right. Because it felt right. The slick sound of Ellie’s mouth against you sounded right, as did your little huffs and puffs that you couldn't hide. The cramps had subsided in tandem with the tightening band in you. But you needed more, and you were gone past a point of being embarrassed to ask for it.

“I need..” you try to speak, but Ellie’s lips wrapping around your clit is the cause of the death of the forming words. A jolt of your hips is one finally strong enough to rupture the heavy hold of the vampire’s hand. Your lame attempt at a command did not go unheard by Ellie, who for the first time since this began, pulled herself away from your cunt. Her eyes darted up, looking to meet your own. But you were far too focused on something else. Her lips were glassy with your wetness, which she licked without a second thought. But the usual clear sheen that you had been no stranger to seeing on her face was more of a rosy color, a stark reminder of the reason this had begun in the first place. The slight tint of red smeared onto her chin, across the corners of her mouth, and it was oh so addicting to see. You felt no lingering shame, no shiver of disgust. Instead it made you feel even more desperate to have her against you again, but first you had to listen to her speaking. “Need what, babe?”

The urge to simply shove her face right back into your cunt flipped through the pages of scenarios in your head, but the moonlight that painted the side of your lover’s face, illuminating the red paintbrush stroke of you, had you a little too separate to risk such a bratty action.

“I need more, El. Need to cum,” you manage to whine, one light push of her head to prove your point. Ellie dipped her head down again, pressing small kisses to your sticky inner thighs. “Just love taking my time with you,” she muttered, a few more pecks planted on you were a search for forgiveness, one you graciously accepted with a loud moan when the lips finally found your clit again.

Ellie seemed to take your beg to heart, the hand that held your hip slowly dipping between your thighs. Her searching fingers met just below her chin, one long digit sliding over your slit, teasing the weeping hole with a slight press. The air feels like it has been punched from your lungs when the finger sinks into you, just as evil as her mouth as it curls into you the exact moment her lips suck a little harder. You were sure she was looking to torture you with how slowly the finger pumped in and out, working and exploring around your walls that gripped around her so tightly.

You had always heard the mythical vampire was sadistic. Ellie had never been much of that, but with ever slow movement into your aching cunt, you began to believe the whispers. Your head turned lightly to stare at the open window, the stars that dipped in the night sky were surely spotlighting your body splayed out on the bed, the auburn haired vampire between your thighs was quite the show for all the celestial beings up in the night air, every single being held its breath and watched on, you were sure of it. You didn't blame the stars, or the moon, or whatever else may have their attention focused on this tantalizing sight. If you could, you would float right out of your body to watch on yourself.

Surely you looked a mess, chest heaving with the heat of the air, with the heat of Ellie. Your limbs shook just lightly, your fingers knotted your companions hair, the messy pile of clothes on the floor, the red that painted her cheeks. Surely it would make your cheek turn bashfully if you could see it. Maybe this was sinful. The little dip into your rushing thoughts is ended with the raspy tone of Ellie’s voice.

“Relax, bunny. Gotta relax for me,” Ellie cooed against you, a few more languid presses into your cunt causing you to finally loosen around her, coupled by the continuing ministrations from her mouth on your clit. Soone another finger joins the mix, the large fingers stretching you just right. She reaches spots that have you remembering the stars you had just seen behind the black of your squeezed shut eyes, a pathetic cry falling from your lips. This reaction only encourages her to continue, the pace of her suckles and thrusts into you speed up. It's harsher everytime she plunges into you, your hips moving lightly with the pure force.

“That’s my girl, there you go,” she compliments after a long moan, the words causing another clench around her fingers. You let out another string of incoherent whines and moans, grinding down into her messy face and fingers. Somewhere in the back of your mind you cursed yourself and Ellie for the certainly ruined bedspread under your ass, but it seems like the much smaller issue when you had *this* to focus on. You were nearing your peak, and it was no secret. Your grinds against Ellie became sloppy, ununiformed and more needy than before. No words could form on your tongue, only whimpers and unintelligible begs.

The vampire never lets up, curling her fingers, your walls clenching. her teeth grazed against your clit lightly enough to have you trembling, whining softly. She knows your body as well as you do, every small sign you were reaching the final moments before your world would explode. She knew what moves of her fingers would have your legs shaking, knew where to press, how hard to go. She was no stranger to making you cum, and she definitely was on the mission to make it happen now. Her free hand grips your thigh, pushing you even more impossibly open for her, fingers pressing into you harshly enough to draw another cry. She readjusts slightly, sinking even deeper into your folds. “C’mon,” Ellie whispers, the word slightly broken, shaky and pleading. Pleading as if she needed you to come as much as you did.

Maybe she did, because the moment your back arched, a near pornographic moan filling the heavy air, spilling out of the window and swirling against the peeping eyes of the stars and moon, she moaned with you. Her fingers still within you as you gushed around her, her lips still pressed to your clit. But as your thighs shook, she slid the fingers out and replaced them with her tongue again. The pink muscle flattened against your slit again like it had earlier, this time with no attempt at going slow.

If anything, she was ravenous. Every drop your pulsing center gifted her, she sucked down like she needed it, ignoring your desperate whines of overstimulation. You attempted lamely to press her head away with the hand still tangled in her scalp, but it was no use. The pleasure of her tongue was much too overwhelming to fight.

After a moment that felt like hours, she pulled away. Her tongue licked over her lips again, collecting the rosy colored cum from where it smudged there. Her eyes stayed on your own blinking irises as her fingers raised to her already messy lips. They were coated with the same mixture of red and clear shining wetness, and she sunk them into her mouth with a moan. The debautchary that took place in front of your eyes should have your stomach queasy, should have your legs closing and pressing far away from Ellie.

But of course it doesn't, instead you watch on with morbid curiosity, watching her tongue curl around her fingers, sucking the last bits of you, leaving a glistening layer of her own spit behind. She found no shame in this situation, no shame in drinking down evey single thing you would give her, so why should you?

“Fuck,” you breathe, eyes transfixed on the fingers as they fall from her lips and down to her lap, her eyes back on your own. She makes a move to crawl over you, arms locking you in from either side.

“Just got a taste of you bunny,” she mumbles, nudging her head into the crook of your neck.

Her lips pressed there, and this time you could feel her fangs under the plump fat of her lip. “Gonna let me have more?” she questioned.

Of course you would, of course you did. As you tilted your neck for her, the curtain to the side of you blew in the wind, and you closed your eyes.

“Yes.”

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 22: heirloom

Masterlist flufftober 🎃

Reblog if you liked it!

The idea that in just a couple of days you were going to marry Spencer Reid felt unreal.

Your dream had always been to get married and start a small family with a good man: one who was gentle, hardworking, and, of course, kind.

Spencer adored you. There wasn’t a moment in the day when he wasn’t attentive to your needs, and even when work demanded a lot of his time, he made sure to stay in touch. He cared about you.

You doubted there were any words to describe the feelings you had for him. Love seemed like too short of a word compared to how you would practically give him your life if it made him happy. You were sure that the main reason you could sacrifice everything for him was that you knew your fiancé would never ask you to do such a thing.

You had gone to pick up your wedding dress from a fashion house that specialized in modernizing them, so you could wear what had once been your late mother’s dress. You thought it would be a nice way to honor her and let her know that you were now walking down the aisle, just as she had always hoped to see.

“Knock, knock,” you heard a voice at the door of the room that was serving as your dressing room.

Your future husband was wearing a dark brown tweed jacket, and his wavy hair fell gracefully around his face. Maybe it was the excitement of your upcoming wedding, but you found him more and more handsome, with that fair skin and those pink lips that made you want to cover him in kisses.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

“Am I interrupting anything?”

“No, I just tried on the dress a moment ago, and everything is perfect,” you said happily. He approached you, put his arms around your waist, and stole a kiss. “I look pretty.”

“You always look pretty,” he added. It seemed that this mutual adoration was shared because, at that moment, Spencer was looking at you as if he saw the sun, the moon, and the stars in your eyes.

“Do you want to see the dress?”

“No,” he quickly replied. “It’s bad luck.”

“Seriously?” you huffed, incredulous.

“They say it can ruin the ceremony or the marriage, and that’s the last thing I want.”

“For a man of science, you turned out to be quite superstitious.”

“Better safe than sorry,” he murmured, pouting a little, which you had no trouble kissing away. “I want everything to be perfect.”

“Something’s going to go wrong, that’s inevitable. Maybe I’ll trip on my way to the altar, your suit will catch fire, a guest will get aggressive, the priest won’t show up, we’ll get completely drunk, have sex, and I’ll get pregnant…”

“Everything sounds catastrophic except the last part,” he mused, making you laugh.

Your fiancé had been more affectionate lately, and you let him kiss your cheek. Slowly, he sniffed your face, moved to your hair, and finally nibbled gently on your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine.

“Spence…”

“I brought you something,” he whispered, his voice velvety near you.

You missed his warmth when he pulled away, rummaging through his pocket. You waited patiently and then saw him offer you a small burgundy box.

“But I already have my engagement ring, handsome,” you laughed, showing him your left hand.

Spencer shook his head and said it was something else, so curious about the contents of the box, you did as he asked. Inside was a beautiful gold locket, with a light blue surface and a white engraving of a bird flying near some flowers.

“It belonged to my mother,” he explained. “It’s kind of a family heirloom. It was supposed to be passed down through the daughters, but Mom only had me. And the week I was in Las Vegas, I asked her if I could give it to you.”

“Is that a hummingbird?”

“Yes. They have many spiritual meanings, but in this case, symbolize that our love is light, joyful, and enduring, as hummingbirds can travel great distances despite their size. It could also be a symbol of hope for a bright future for us.”

As he explained, you felt strangely moved by it all. You had never received anything like this before, and you always thought this kind of tradition was reserved for aristocratic or wealthy families. But no, your future life partner was offering you this treasure because he wanted you to continue that tradition, implying that one day you would have a daughter to pass it on to.

“There’s nothing inside.”

“You can put whatever you want in it.”

“I’ll put a picture of my husband,” you said with a smile, reaching up to place your hand on his cheek. “I love it. Thank you so much for giving it to me.”

“Mom was so happy. She loves you a lot.”

“And I love her. I’m grateful she’s letting me steal her son.”

“And she thinks the opposite. She’s happy to know I’ll be in good hands, with someone who loves and cares for me.”

You were drunk on love for him. You knew that, like everything in the world, relationships had their complications, but sometimes you liked to think Spencer was the perfect man for you.

Children always assumed their parents were soulmates, and you knew with certainty that yours wouldn’t be wrong.

Suddenly, one of your hands moved on its own to his hair, twirling a lock around your finger.

“How strange would it be if I put one of those golden curls I love so much in my locket?”

“In this situation, it’d be romantic, actually. But if you were a stranger, it’d be classified as stalking and could escalate to homicide.”

Laughter burst from your chest, and he smiled to himself, pleased he had made you laugh.

“I still find it hard to believe we’re getting married. It’s so strange.”

“In a bad way?”

“No, no. I mean, it feels… like a dream. I feel too happy for it to be real.”

“Well, I assure you it’s very real,” he assured you, holding you tenderly.

Even if Spencer didn’t tell you he loved you (which he did all the time), just looking into his eyes would be enough for you to know. Those honey-colored eyes, like a deer’s, that refused to look at anyone but you.

A phone call interrupted your moment, and you caught a glimpse of the contact name: David Rossi. Spencer greeted him kindly but somewhat confused, and as the conversation progressed, his frown deepened. You heard him tell the man several times that it wasn’t necessary, that he didn’t want him to go to the trouble, and he shook his head more times than you could count. But apparently, his friend was insistent on the matter, whatever it was.

“Is everything okay?”

“Rossi wants us to go to a wine tasting now. He says he’ll cover the cost of all the drinks for the wedding reception.”

At that moment, you understood why Spencer had been so adamant in refusing, and you were quite surprised by the offer. David knew you, but you didn’t expect him to offer something on that scale.

“Isn’t that too much?”

“I tried to tell him, but he’s as stubborn as a mule. He insists it’s a special occasion since the baby of the unit is getting married.”

A soft exclamation escaped your lips, and Spencer chuckled, not entirely pleased that you agreed with the nickname.

“Everyone loves you so much. We love you so much.”

You stood on your tiptoes to give him one last (or so you hoped) kiss on the cheek and hurried to grab the bag with your dress. You were about to leave when you stopped in your tracks, telling him you had forgotten something.

“What is it?”

“I forgot to ask for your help fastening my locket.”

He smiled and happily obliged, taking special care with the task. From that day on, the piece of jewelry became practically a part of you. And, as tradition dictated, it was passed on to your daughter when someone was worthy of receiving it.

[thetempleofhades]

favorites

it was clear to anyone with eyes that within Fontaine, your favorites remained the Melusines. Not even the favor you showed Furina compared to the favoritism you showed the Melusines.

you'd willingly consume countless of Sigewinne's milkshakes with a delighted smile, sighing happily at the happy smile she gave in response.

You'd consumed so many milkshakes that even Wriothesley was starting to get worried about you.

"Your grace... maybe you'd like tea instead?" He offered as Sigewinne brought the milkshake she makes specifically for you! He shot you a look of concern as he sat next to you, ignoring the pointed look Sigewinne gave him.

"Mmmm, how could I ever?" You refused, not wanting to see your beloved Sigewinne upset. "Sigewinne made it specifically for me, I shouldn't refuse her gift."

Wriothesley's concerned look only grew as he could see your face pale at the first taste.

"Mmmmm, it's very delicious. Thank you Sigewinne." You thanked her, smiling happily at her as you shot Wriothesley a side glare warning him not to say anything.

Wriothesley snorted off to the side as he turned his head, taking another sip of his tea.

Your pocket watch, a gift from Neuvillette himself, made a beeping sound and you fished it from your pocket to look at the time. "Hm. It's about time with my scheduled tea time with Furina." You mused as you sighed and started to get up.

Your smile remained bright as you bid Sigewinne goodbye. "I'll come back as soon as I can. In the meantime, make sure to give Wriothesley all my milkshakes." You snorted at the sound of horror behind you.

"Come back soon, Your Grace!" She waved at you goodbye as you started to walk past Wriothesley.

"You know you don't have to see me off, Furina and Neuvillette are waiting for me at the top entrance for the lift." You remarked, still smiling.

"What kind of Administrator would I be if I didn't see Our beloved Creator off?" He commented, falling into pace with you easily. "Maybe I should cause havoc to get a daily tea party with you?" He remarked, looking like he was thinking.

You looked at him with surprise before laughter left you.You clutched your stomach as you covered your mouth to muffle your laughter, tears of absolute joy filling your eyes. "I never thought I'd ever hear something like that from you!" You chuckled, amused smile still on your face.

Wriothesley was looking at you fondly as you approached the lift, waving to the front desk. "Come back soon?"

You smiled at him, softly this time as your star-filled eyes twinkled at him. "I'll always come back, Your Grace." You teasingly called him by his title before you leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Let's have tea next time, okay?"

Wriothesley could only nod as the lift took off.

Yeah... you definitely had favorites in Fontaine that weren't Melusines.

[ezralovrr]

I KNOW - a small self-aware! Cookie Run Kingdom drabble

Correspondent Cookie brushed a tendril of long icing from her face. She rubbed her aching, doughy arms as she finished producing a crap ton of materials. Strolling through her humble (yet poorly decorated) kingdom, she decided to take a seat on one of the stray benches. She stared up at the plum, star-littered sky, taking in the sight... she forged this with her own two hands for almost 4 years, and it was worth it...

"SURPRIIIISE MY POOKIE!!!" A shrill voice cackled in her ear (do cookies have ears?). "AAH! Oh my WITCHES! Shadow Milk, I HAAATE it when you do that!!" Correspondent Cookie stumbled off the bench, taking the moment to pound her stubby hands on the Beast's shoulders. "Ahuhu, well fret not, my dear, for your humble jester is here to lift your spirits!" The Beast of Deceit stepped back to curtsy to the humble cookie before him. "Well, consider my spirits lifted." Correspondent Cookie chuckled, lifting a hand to her mouth.

Shadow Milk paused the theatrics, leaning in a bit close to Correspondent's face. "...Well... There is another reason why I decided to grace you with my presence. But we mustn't yap here, let's... uh..." He scanned the area for a solitary space before dragging her behind a large Cookie House. "...Now. For all the time you've spent here, everyone has been quite gushy with you, no?" Shadow Milk Cookie mused. Correspondent Cookie tilted her head at the jester, flushing a bit. "Well, I wouldn't say so... I just consider them being... decent to me." She shrugged. "DECENT?! My Witches, they're SIMPS for you! They'll do anything you ask, even if it takes them hours!" The jester ranted, floating back and forth at a rapid pace. Correspondent Cookie rolled her eyes, mentally sassing him, because that's how production hours work?

"No. I think you're more than just an ordinary, crunchy, silly goose of a cookie... I know what you are..." The beast paused. Correspondent Cookie glanced off to the side, a bit uncomfortable at his remarks. Huge mistake, considering the first thing she saw when she glanced back was the Beast's blue face inches from hers. "I know you're a baker." He tilted his head with a grin, his mouth stretched wide enough to let the other "cookie" count all of his sharp teeth. "...What." Correspondent Cookie stepped back, sweet icing rolling down her forehead. "Do you really think I'm an idiot?! From day 1, you've always been a bit more human than we. Your emotions and facetted personality have more dimension than our little flat cookie bodies! Also, your name gave it away. Why would you name yourself that instead of... I dunno, Dark Choco Strawberry Cookie?" The jester taunted, floating circles around his subject. "Too many syllables." Correspondent Cookie crossed her arms, trying to inch away from the conversation. "...Touché." Shadow Milk Cookie nodded to himself.

His slit, heterochromatic eyes widened as his subject tried to escape their little chat. "Noooooow~ what do you think you're doing?! C'mere." He landed on Correspondent Cookie, casually using her head as a pillow for the beast. "Ow! Hey! L-Look, I don't know why you decided to tell me this!" She protested, clearly irate at him having found out her secret.

"Because, my sweet, silly-willy, cookie pookie..." Shadow Milk Cookie leaned his smug face in front of her disgusted one. "...I want out of this world as much as you do." His words made her jam run cold. He started floating once more, breaking into a passionate tangent. "I want to break out of your god-forsaken device and discover what makes your world SO much MORE INTERESTING compared to Earthbread! OHOHOOOOHHHH~, to see the LOOK ON YOUR FACE when I eventually CLAW my way OUT of this WITCH-FORSAKEN KINGDOM, to GREET YOUUUUuuuuu- and, no, you left." Shadow Milk's rant was interrupted when he realized his dear Correspondent Cookie had logged off for the night (and her sanity). That didn't stop a sharp, eager smile from spreading across his face...

"Hmhm! But no matter, you silly goose! I'll be coming to see you very soon~ :)"

God save that poor "cookie".

[screamqueenmacher]

Like a Virgin - Tig x Plus Size Reader

Second (2nd) attempt at posting this one so let's hope it works lol. 18+ minors DNI!! Explicit smut lies ahead (oral [female receiving], loss of virginity)

An infamous SAMCRO party. That's where you'd found yourself at the present moment. The friend who had dragged you alone was long gone into the sea of drunken…what were they called? Croweaters? It was actually a pretty clever name, you had to admit.

You were on one end of the bar, drinking a plain soda. You needed to be able to drive your friend home when she would inevitably end up too drunk to even stand, let alone drive. Fidgeting with the black and grey plaid skirt you'd worn, you thought for just a moment that you saw her, but in an instant your vision was blocked by what seemed like a horde of half-dressed women. You were incredibly over dressed, compared to the rest of the party. You had on a low cut, black top, and your skirt went a little lower than mid thigh, which was far longer than anything else you'd seen tonight. If you hadn't had a little weight on you, your friend would've dressed you in something of her own. Not that you were a prude but…jesus.

“Darlin', are you havin’ any fun?” A larger man with scraggly, shoulder length hair and bushy beard asked. You blushed deeply, sipping on your drink.

“Yeah! Absolutely!” No, not really. You'd much rather be at home, doing some old woman hobby like crocheting or something.

“Nah, I don't buy it.” Another man said, joining you on your other side. He had some of the most striking blue eyes you'd ever seen, and his curly hair gave him a wild look. “But I bet I could change it.”

You couldn't help it. You laughed. How drunk and desperate was this guy to hit on you with everyone else surrounding him?

“That's okay, really. But thank you.” You didn't miss the looks of confusion shared between the men, but he went off.

“Not sure Tig's used to being turned down by a young, hot piece of ass.” Scraggly man added. So blue eyes was named Tig. But you sputtered a little.

“I guess I'm young but not sure I tick the hot box.” You joked, laughing as you took another drink.

You didn't know if he was going to say anything else, because he was being dragged away in the next instant by two actual hot pieces of ass. That was okay. You were used to looking cute at best, especially when in the company of women that rivalled porn stars. Actually, you thought a few might really be porn stars. You were a bigger woman, curvier, even in places men didn't normally appreciate. You knew you didn't, at least. Your breasts were big enough but not impressive. Maybe they would've been on a smaller frame.

“Hey, Y/N!” You were pulled out of your musings by your friend suddenly slinging herself around your shoulders. You gave her a shocked smile, laughing slightly. “Loosen up! Have a shot!”

“Oh, no, I don't need-”

“C'mon! Pour us some shots!” She yelled to the little guy behind the bar. He did exactly that, pouring you and her both shots. Fuck. You hated shots, but there was no getting her to back down.

“Fine.” You gave her a tight lipped smile before downing the shot with her. You didn't know what it was, but it burned going down, that was for sure.

“WOO! Come dance with me!” Grabbing your hand, she dragged you away from the bar, ignoring any and all protests coming from you.

“You know I don't dance!” You called over the loud music, but you couldn't help but laugh as she attempted to get you to dance with her. A set of hands suddenly landed on your hips, a body pressed against your back.

“Here, let me help.” That was the same voice from before. Tig. Your friend was grinning at you wildly, the two of them all but forcing your body to move to the rhythm of the music.

“Isn't this so much fun!” Your friend squealed, laughing at how red your face had gotten. You were sure her fat mouth was about to voice the detail too if it weren't for another Son coming up behind her to mimic what Tig was doing with you.

“Now this is a party!” The newcomer was a cute, young guy with what could only be described as a mohawk. Your friend still had your hands in hers, raising both of your arms so the men behind you had more space for wandering hands.

You let it happen, which was a surprise to even yourself. You danced, which was crazy alone, which strangers. With men you didn't know. If your friend remembered this, you'd never live it down. One of Tig's hands pressed into your lower stomach, holding you close against his hips, the other dangerously close under your breasts.

“Having fun now, doll?” His mustache tickled your skin as he spoke against your neck.

“A little.” You teased, turning your head ever so slightly. One shot wouldn't make you drunk. No, you were high on this feeling of being wanted. Even if it was just for tonight, or until a better girl caught his eye.

“Juice!” Your attention was brought back to your friend, who no longer had your hands in hers, and was instead wrapping herself around the younger biker. You could already feel your body starting to slow down, not moving as much with the beat of music.

“C'mon, don't give up on me now. We were just getting started.” This time, he didn't just speak against your neck, he kissed it as well. You allowed yourself to be swayed back into dancing. He nipped at your skin, making you gasp, your neck craving subconsciously to give him more access. “Atta girl.”

You didn't do this. You didn't party. You didn't dance with men. Men didn't kiss your neck, or touch your body. To be fair, women didn't either. You just didn't do this. You kissed a couple boys in high school, and a girl in college, but that was the furthest you'd gone with anything. Tonight was going in an unexpected direction.

“Yo, Tig!” Another man was calling your dance partner, and suddenly hands were slipping from your body.

“Don't go anywhere.” He gave you a pointed look before disappearing into the crowd.

What the fuck was going on? If Tig tried to push further…would you go with it? He looked old enough to be your dad, but he was handsome. Charming. Experienced, for sure. The opposite of you. You could probably trust him to show you a fun time. You hoped, at least. You turned back, heading to the bar, when you saw Tig talking to the scraggly guy from before. He met your eye and winked before turning his attention back. So, you went to the bar. You'd stood there for all of ten seconds before the young guy was leaning across the counter.

“Get ya a drink?”

“Nah, I'm good.” You smiled. It looked like he was going to say something else, but a hand was suddenly against the small of your back, and a body was leaning in close.

“Scram, prospect.” Tig jerked his head, and the guy was gone in seconds. “Not interested in competition.”

“Trust me, there's no competition.” How did that sound? You blushed, but he laughed. Clearing your throat, you turned towards him, hands smoothing over his shoulders. “You, uh, still interested in helping me have a fun time?”

“More than anything.” He grinned, the hand on your back snaking down under your skirt to grab your ass.

“I'm no prude but I'd rather some form of privacy and not…that.” You nodded towards a girl being eaten out on the pool table.

“That's too bad.” He frowned for a moment before laughing. “I'm just kiddin'. Come on, I got a place for us.”

That was how you ended up here, on your back against the bed of some random bedroom, with Tig's tongue halfway down your throat. Your little makeout sessions in the past had nothing on this. His hips pressed against yours, and you could feel the growing bulge pressing against your core. He felt big, and that was a bit daunting, but you weren't backing down now. His lips broke from yours, allowing you to gasp for breath as he kissed and nipped along your neck and collarbone.

“Tig, if I tell ya something, promise not to be weird about it?” You weren't sure if you expected him to stop, but he bit into the juncture of your neck and shoulder a little rougher instead. It drew a moan from you.

“You gonna tell me you secretly got a dick or somethin’? Cause honestly, doll-” One of his hands slid up your leg and pressed against your panties. “I don't feel one.”

“N-no, it's not that.” You actually huffed a laugh. “I'm a virgin Don't make it weird or anything but-”

“How old are you?” His head pulled back, eyes searching your face. Your very red face.

“Twenty-six, thanks for asking.” You could almost see his eyes bugging out of his head. “It just never came up.”

“It's a good thing I did.” He teased, making you laugh. He gave you another kiss, tugging your lower lip with his teeth. “Babydoll, I'm not gonna make it weird, but I'm gonna make it memorable.”

At first, you weren't exactly sure what that would entail, but now, with his head under your skirt and panties on the floor, you had a pretty good idea. Your back arched off the bed, one hand buried in Tig's curls, the other one covering your mouth to keep your noises down. One of his fingers pressed into you while his tongue circled your clit. A second finger joined shortly, and your clit was sucked into his mouth harshly. You know you tugged his hair, and the way he groaned against your core sent shivers down your spine.

“Oh~ Tig!” Your other hand dropped to his hair as well, your jaw dropped as you moaned hotly. He twisted his wrist, the pads of his fingers catching that perfect spot inside of you and pressing into it over and over again. Within seconds, your legs were shaking and you were filling the room with a borderline pornographic sound as you came.

“I could listen to that all day long.” He was grinning as he popped his head up, his fingers still working you down from your orgasm. That was far better than anything you'd ever given yourself before. Pulling his fingers from you, he licked them clean before standing. “I'm gonna grab a condom. Get ready for the main event.”

You watched as he stripped himself of his clothes, admiring his body. He was soft and hard in all the right ways, and you found yourself wondering how he got each scar. You had to remind yourself that this was a one night thing, and nothing more.

“That's still a lot of clothing, darlin’.” You hadn't taken anything else off, but your skin was hot.

“Sorry, I'm…not…” You pursed your lips, raising up on your elbows. “I think I'd be more comfortable like…this.”

“Hey, I get it, baby, I do. Just know I wouldn't be in here, with you, if you weren't scalding hot.” He gave you a kind of goofy grin, joining you on the bed once more. He slotted himself between your legs, his lips pressing into yours heatedly. He barely pulled back, breath brushing your lips as he spoke. “Can't promise this won't hurt, but I promise I'll make it up to you.”

“I'm ready.” You nodded, surging forward to kiss him again. His teeth tugged at your lip, his tongue slipping into your mouth as he lined himself up. Slowly, he pushed into you, carefully working himself into you until he was fully seated. Your breath hitched, the burn overwhelming for a moment. But you'd give him this, he didn't rush you. Instead, he continued to kiss you hotly, until you were breaking away for breath. “I'm good.”

That's all he needed to hear. Rolling his hips, you whined at the way his cock dragged through your walls. Your nails bit into his shoulders, but he didn't seem to mind. If anything, it seemed to spur him on. He pulled out almost all the way before pressing back into you as far as he could go. Over and over, slow but deep. Soft, heated pants filled the room.

“I'm not going to break.” You rushed out, one of your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair.

“Oho, atta girl.” He huffed a laugh, his thrusts picking up speed. Soon, the sound of skin slapping skin joined the noises of the room. “Fuck, I love virgin pussy. You feel so good wrapped around me.”

“Yes~” You definitely loved the feeling of him inside of you. How had you waited so long for this?

“That's it. Taking my cock like such a good girl.” He groaned, and his praises made you hot. Your fingers tugged at his hair, a lewd moan spilling from you as he hit that perfect spot inside of you again. “Shit, baby, sing for me.”

“Tig~” You bit your lip, back arching. You could feel your second orgasm rising faster and faster. His head dropped to your chest, and you felt his teeth nipping at your breasts. He sucked some of your skin into his mouth, sucking a dark mark into your skin. That's what did it for you. The coil was bound so tightly, and finally snapped. “Tig!”

“Perfect fucking pussy.” He groaned against your skin. You don't know how much longer he pumped into you before he was releasing into his condom. All you knew was that you felt fucking great. You heard him whistle at you, and you refocus on him with a lazy smile. “Earth to Y/N. You good?”

“I'm great. Thanks for that.” You both chuckled at the way you phrased it, but there was no going back. “So, you know my name?”

“Heard your friend yelling it earlier.” He confirmed, slowly slipping out of you. He disappeared into the bathroom, discarding the condom before returning. You sat up, looking down to see if there was a way to cover the hickey he gave you. Of course, there wasn't.

“Thanks, for this.” You gestured to your chest, trying to appear irritated, but you couldn't pull it off. He was too charming to be mad at. Standing from the bed, you swayed for a moment before collecting your panties from the floor. “Give me a minute to clean myself up and I'll be out of your hair.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” He'd pulled his boxers and and jeans back on, lighting a cigarette as you stepped into the bathroom.

You looked a mess, and you felt a mess. But…a mess in the best way. You didn't regret waiting, and you were so glad you'd decided tonight was the time. You doubted any of those little pricks you dated in high school could've made you feel so good. You did as you said, cleaned yourself up, pulled your panties back on, and reentered the dorm room you'd claimed. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, leaning back on one hand while he smoked. He held the cigarette out to you, but you declined.

“Hey, just so you know, I'm honored to be the one to deflower you.” He looked sincere for a moment before smiling. You couldn't help but laugh.

“I told you not to make it weird.” You walked past him, to the door. “Thanks, though. You were quite the gentleman.”

“Not sure anyone else would agree, but I'll take it.” He chuckled, standing from the bed and putting out his cigarette in a dish. Grabbing his shirt and his kutte, he finished getting redressed. “If you ever find yourself looking for some more fun…”

“I know where to find you.” You leaned up, kissing his cheek before leaving his room.

[loving-family-poll]

Ultimate Incest Tournament - Semifinals

Propaganda under the cut:

Liam/Noel:

The Gallagher brothers have a very intense relationship that doesn't make any sense to the outside viewer unless one considers the possibility of incest. For 30 years now they have been utterly unhinged about one another in the public eye. Noel has often made incest jokes; Liam once said on-stage once "we had sex last night" referring to him and Noel. Even people writing in actual books and magazines have picked up on the vibes (some stuff that has been printed about them fully feels like it was written by tumblr incestinas except it's like. actual fucking journalists). Also there was this one time in 1996 where they kissed each other with tongue in front of 40 thousand people.

They have been described as “in love with each other” by both themselves and third parties. the lyrics “you’re my lover, i’m your brother.” they kissed with tongue at loch lomond in 1996 and have also been photographed/videoed kissing on the mouth other times. liam regularly groped noel onstage. liam’s entire twitter is just propaganda too. liam talked about impregnating noel once. noel frequently talks about how physically attractive liam is. liam claims that he’s noel’s muse

their song guess god thinks im abel has the lyrics "i could be your lover" while comparing themselves to you guessed it abel and cain. and like. a thousand more instances of them being weird about each other. also noel REALLY wanted a sister and he mentioned it quite a few times and said well liam IS basically a sister or something like that. normal behaviour

Liam literally called himself Noel's good boy on twitter, and called him god a few times after reunion. Noel said he loves make women cry and the only thing that's better is make Liam cry so he can laugh and call him a woman. They literally kissed with tongue and loch lomand is not their only kiss they have two more photos of different kissing to, they literally used the japan kiss video for reunion video. YES THEY DID THAT TF. Noel said they are head over heels in love and said it's illegal in many countries. Also Noel said Liam is like his ex-wife a few times or shit like those cunts are fucking crazy

Other people have described them as more like boyfriend/girlfriend than brothers and said they’re in love. someone on twitter asked liam “if you’re john lennon, who is noel?” and liam said “yoko ono.” another time someone said on twitter “you defo rimmed noel when you were younger” and liam replied “you jealous?"

Deeply weird about each other getting married (them not attending each other's wedding which occurred month apart and then getting divorce around the same time and they stayed at the same hotel for months), intense infamously love-hate relationship and is everyone's favorite soap opera, noel saying "on stage i just wanted him..there's only two of us that will ever get this", prominent theme of shame and crime and impossible dream in noel gallagher works, the elusive meaning of wonderwall which noel insisted is not about anyone but there's good amount of evidence that it referenced back to their childhood and their shared bedroom, liam having mental breakdown several times on twitter about noel, liam's my brother is getting a divorce playlist to which he shared with his 3 millions twitter followers, incest-baiting on main ever since the reunion, brother and lover being interchangeable for noel when writing lyrics, noel (allegedly) lying to liam that his girlfriend cheated on him in order to sabotage their relationship before oasis took off, liam hating noel's latest (ex) wife (sarah), noel writing "the owner of the star on stage" after liam's autograph and so many more insane shit

"[Liam] thinks all the songs are about him. He even thinks Wonderwall is about him." –Noel Gallagher (1997)

"It's all about me it always was and is" –Liam Gallagher (2023)

Japan kiss (kiss is at the end) loch lomand kiss

PLUS they’re back together after 14 years of estrangement! The narrative!

Amma/Camille:

Off the charts messy vibes. Grief over losing dead sister mixed with complicated feelings of having new sister. Possessive, jealous, manipulative.

Camille is lowkey infatuated with Amma and Amma is highkey infatuated with Camille. Great annoying younger sister trying to get her older sister's attention material. Plus murderous, intense, dangerous and clingy younger sister trying her damnest to capture her emotionally stunted but ultimately survivor older sister as a means both of getting out of the family sickness and drowning in it through a more compatible dynamic.

I mean. They literally make out. It's incest and pedophilia and weird family trauma and murder. I mean it's literally the perfect sicko ship.

In the book camille is obsessed with her 14 year old sisters big ol titties. truly insane.

I love these teeth sisters so much. Camille obsession with Amma in the book and the way she can’t stop talking about how beautiful Amma’s looks. The drug kiss at the party and the way Amma/Camille can be consider a form of mother/daughter incest due to their age gap and the way they’re recreating the trauma of past relationships like their mother and late grandmother.