#“surely they wouldn't play this song right after they die”

[kooldewd123]

watching digimon during the myotismon arc be like:

[loudclan-clangen]

The song “Beautiful Little Fool” for Fiercestripe? Because I am not getting over her death. Listened to it and she was the first character to pop into my head.

You’re so right!

YES! Please do, I would love to see it!

The boring answer is that I've been drawing cats for a VERY long time. I think since I was 8 they have been the majority of what I drew. The less boring answer is you know the movie Spirit? It changed my life. It had a bonus video where one of the artists taught you how to draw Spirit himself and it was the singular thing that inspired me to start drawing (more likely possessed me). I think I must have been about two the first time I saw it because I cannot remember a time before I had that video memorized. I would spend hours sitting in front of that video (which was only like 10-15 minutes long) with a stack of papers just fully focused on perfectly following his instructions. I still think about that video to this day. Every time I draw legs the voice of James Baxter echoes through my mind. I don't know if that translates to why my cats are so beefy, I own a cat who is quite chonky, so that might contruibute to it, but now you have a fun fact about me regardless!

All of the heirs are chosen based on birth order! Whoever is born first gets to be heir. I personally find that making strict rules about stuff makes playing the game a lot easier for me, I find it stressful to try to pick a "good heir" when I don't know what's going to happen later in the game so to limit that I just let it be completely out of my hands. 2. The game rolled for Songpaw to become a medicine cat! I would have changed it if he was an only kit or probably if I had known that Dashpaw was gonna die, cause I was really stressed about losing my run at that point, but I do my best to write a story that makes the game make sense rather than change what the game gives me when possible. I think it helps me to not have much of a story in mind while I play, just noting down events and thoughts and then going back and piecing it all together afterwards. That way nothing can "go wrong". 3. "Heir-hood" only applies to the leaders. There is no expectation that Cavepaw will become a healer. When Weed dies that position will be open until someone wishes to volunteer for it. 4. Honestly I don't really know. This might spoil a little bit, of tension, but I truly never had that happen. I was SUPER worried about it and did a lot to make sure it wouldn't, but after a couple of generations you get to a point where almost everyone is descended from a leader at somepoint. (And also everyone is second cousins with each other but you know what there are some problems that you just have to live with.) I image the clan would look for an omen and just pick a new leader based off of that and start the process all over again. In my experience worst comes to worst just make sure you have a very accurate family tree and trace it back a couple of generations.

Thank you so much! I don't play with any mods for Loudclan, I'm too scared to lose saves to less than stable code. My favorite mod currently is Kori's Awoogen though! I just like to look at the beautiful art mostly. I use mass extinction as population control, so I turn it on and off based on how many cats I have. Two full pages is the upper limit of what I'm willing to deal with, so once a third page opens I turn mass extinction on and after an extinction happens I turn it back off. (also if I dip below 1 full page I turn unknown parents on until I'm back to two pages again). I've found after a couple of generations you can mostly stop worrying about it because the bloodlines have spread so far there's always someone who's a 6th great great cousin or something.

The game generated him Dashpelt! I probably would have picked Dashfoot to stick with the generated them of a boring suffix but to make more sense overall.

[prettiestlovergirl]

YOU CAN BE THE BOSS

tw: MDNI; fem!reader; slytherin! reader; unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it); rough sex; degradation kink; hair pulling; dacryphilia; begging; some drinking; dom! mattheo; bratty! reader; french! mattheo; impact play.

concept: you and mattheo have been enemies with benefits for a while now, but after you score higher on a test... he wants to make sure you still remember your place with him ;) song: you can be the boss by lana del rey

a/n: still pushing the french! mattheo agenda bcos bilingual men make me go weak in the knees (and ruin my panties). my french is still shit, they do not teach you kinky pet names in high school french class! so bear with me you guys. enjoy, my lovelies! 𓆩���𓆪

mattheo riddle was the bane of your existence and the source of all your most recent orgasms.

you couldn't stand each other! he thought you were an insufferable know-it-all and you thought he was a cocky asshole. if it were up to you, you'd have never had to interact with him again.

then, after one late night in the library, it was like a flip had switched on in you both. you still couldn't stand each other, sure, but suddenly you both seemed much more bearable to the other when his cock was bruising your cervix.

and thus began the new phase of your relationship: taunting and teasing each other in public and then fucking out your grievances in private. it was the perfect system, really.

today, you had been particularly insufferable to him. you'd scored exactly two points higher on a charms test and hadn't stopped gloating. you needed to be brought down a peg or two, and mattheo knew just how to do it.

you were both in the common room, the quidditch team having thrown a party to celebrate your house victory in the game against ravenclaw.

you were certainly cocky today and you knew it, your small academic victory had made you a bit giddy. normally, you wouldn't have cared, but mattheo was so annoyed by it, you couldn't help but rub it in! how were you to know that there'd be consequences to your actions?!

when your eyes finally landed on mattheo, he'd been holding a red solo cup and talking with theo in the corner. he looked hot, not that you'd ever tell him that. he didn't need his ego getting any bigger.

you were used to him pouncing on you almost immediately after you spotted him, so when your eyes landed on him and he didn't even look over? you instantly knew that it was him being petty.

well, if he wanted to be petty, two could certainly play that game! he wanted you to come crawling to him and beg him to fuck you? you'd rather die! well, not die, but you know.

mattheo could feel your eyes on him, but he made no effort to look your way or give you any attention. if you wanted him, you had to put in the work tonight. if you wanted to be stubborn, he was more than willing to go home alone and leave you to suffer.

the next hour consisted of you trying to gain his attention in a multitude of ways. you flirted with blaise, danced with theo, even left a perfect imprint of your lipstick on draco, and nothing. little did you know, he kept a tally of every little act for... later use.

he continued to ignore you, despite the fact that he wanted nothing more than to grab you and fuck you right there in front of everybody. you weren't his girlfriend, but you were still fucking his, and you were absolutely gonna pay for your teasing.

after another 20 minutes, you were done. he was sitting back on the couch, the usual picture of cocky and casual that both turned you on more and simultaneously made you want to slap him across the face. it was a fine little line you walked daily.

you walked up to him, arms crossed over your chest as you narrowed your eyes at him. "fine! you win." you hissed, only to be met with his stupid smug smirk.

"i'm sorry? not sure what you mean, ma douce, (my sweet) what exactly did i win?" he questioned, giving you a fake n innocent look. "i win at so much, gonna need you to be more specific."

you should have just walked away. he was too cocky, it made your skin crawl, but fuck you needed him. "this! this stupid little game your playing, you win, i give up, lets go. now." you felt like a child, wanting to stomp your foot on the ground and beg for his stupid attention.

"ah, well, since you asked so nicely." he grinned, taking his sweet time getting off the couch and setting his cup down. he didn't grab your hand or look back to see if you followed him up the stairs; he knew you would.

"you are such a sore fucking loser!" you huffed once the door was closed, making him laugh at your annoyance and frustration. "so fucking dramatic." he smirked, hands already slipping under your skirt to grab your ass.

you moved to kiss him, but he turned his head away, instead choosing to place his lips on your neck. "dick." you whined, nails scraping over the nape of his neck while his teeth sunk harshly into your skin. "who? me. i'm being nice, don't want to ruin your pretty make-up, môme" (brat) he scoffed back, rolling his eyes at your dramatics.

you dug your nails into his skin as retaliation, but it only resulted in him spanking your ass so hard you yelped out. "un tel putain de gosse" (you're such a fucking child) he murmured as he brought his hands up and unbuttoned your school shirt.

his hands moved quickly to push the fabric off your shoulders, but his mouth moved slow and rough as he let his teeth graze over as much of your bare skin as he could. he might have been annoyed with you, but fuck did he love seeing you covered in his work.

you were getting desperate for more and he knew it, the slowness of his actions entirely purposeful. "mattheo, please." you begged, head leaned back as he smirked against your skin. "please, what? you know i like it when you use your words."

"i hate you." you grumbled, hissing lightly at the pain of his fingers digging into your waist. "sorry, 'm sorry!" you huffed, biting your lip before going on. "please fuck me. now." you half begged; half demanded.

"that's more like it." he smirked, spinning you around and smacking your ass once again. "get on the bed, salope (slut). on your stomach" he commanded, and you happily complied. you laid down on the bed, ass up in the air just like he'd told you to.

"putain (fuck), look at you." mattheo sighed, lifting your skirt up with his hands while he dragged your panties down just under your thighs. he used his hands to keep your spread open, admiring your already glistening pussy.

"you've been so cocky all fucking day, flirting around, bragging. what would they all say if they could see you now? all soaked and desperate." he cooed, dragging his thumb all the way through your folds.

you whined a bit, hips attempting to grind against his hand the best you could before his other hand came back up and spanked you harshly. "gotta stay still, ma douche (my sweet). don't wanna see your pretty little head get hurt." he teased, rubbing over your warm skin.

"s-sorry." you nodded, instantly whining as he pulled away from you. you kept facing the wall, but you could hear his belt being undone and him stripping right behind you.

mattheo groaned as he wrapped his hand around his cock, moving it up and down a few times as he admired the view of you all ready for him.

you wiggled your hips a bit, desperately waiting for him to put you out of your misery and fuck you. he chuckled at your desperation, smacking his cock against your ass just to hear you gasp and moan out.

"tease!" you huffed, grabbing the bedsheets gently as he started to slowly, teasingly, rub his cock through your wet folds. he was just trying to make sure your wetness was spread evenly, that's all! he was being a good fuck buddy.

"fuck, mattheo, please!" you begged, closing your eyes as he continued to tease and mess with your puffy cunt until you were close to tears.

"i had to watch you walk around, flirting with all my fucking friends like a fucking salope. (slut) now you're here, whining and begging for me to do you a favor? doesn't work like that, ma douce (my sweet). you take what i give you, got it?" he asked, spanking you again for good measure.

"'m sorry! 'm sorry, i know, but please, mattheo! need you!" you begged, his hand moving to hold your hip down to keep you from squirming while your arousal dripped all over his cock.

"you gonna be a good girl f'me? if i fuck you real nice, are you gonna keep running your mouth downstairs?" he asked, to which you immediately nodded. "yes! yes, i'll be so good, won't say a word, promise, just please!" you whimpered.

"well, if you promise." he teased, and thrusted all the way into your soaked pussy. he groaned as your walls fluttered around him. you'd fucked dozens of times at this point, but he never got tired of feeling your walls squeeze his cock.

he moved painfully slow, tearing out whines of anguish and frustration from your throat as you gripped his bedsheets. "what's wrong, ma douce (my sweet)? i thought you wanted me to fuck you." he mocked, squeezing your ass tightly.

"please, please, please!" you whined, desperate tears starting to drip down your cheeks as he pulled almost all the way out before slowly and roughly thrust all the way back in. you could feel every inch of him filling you up over and over.

"'m just doing what you asked, ma douce (my sweet). or do you need even more from me?" he scoffed, squeezing and massaging your ass as he continued his slow thrusts.

you instantly nodded, not caring that he was mocking you n calling you greedy. you were too fucking desperate and needy for him and all your tears only seemed to make him want to tease more.

"tellement putain de gourmande." (so fucking greedy) mattheo smirked, punctuating his words with another slap to your ass before finally giving in to your pleads for more and speeding up his thrusts.

"fuck! yes, thank you, thank you, fuck yes!" you moaned, his hips snapping roughly into yours as his free hand gathered your hair into a ponytail, tugging you back and making your back arch.

"such a needy fucking brat, what am i gonna do with you?" he scoffed, looking over your teary face as you continued to moan and whine as he fucked you rough and hard.

you couldn't speak, mind already so hazy from the way his cock stretched your walls. he pulled you into a sloppy kiss, swallowing your moans and squeaks of pure fucking bliss.

he tasted like the malt liquor he'd been drinking from before and you swore you were getting drunk off the taste. he sunk his teeth into your lower lip, groaning against you as he bullied your pussy again and again with no remorse.

your walls fluttered and clenched around his cock, signaling just how close you were to cumming. "mm, please, make me cum, please!" you whimpered against him as he pulled away from your lips, hand still tightly fisting your hair as he fucked you.

"that's it, that's ma douce (my sweet). be a good fucking girl and cum on my cock, yeah? cum all over my fucking cock." he commanded, watching as your legs shook on either side of him while you coated his cock in your creamy slick.

he let go of your hair and you practically collapsed against the bed, face smushing into the sheets. he continued to fuck into you, groaning at how much tighter you felt now that you came.

you whined as the overstimulation started to set in, but you were unable to squirm with your legs all jellylike and his hand keeping you in place. you sobbed in pure bliss, staining his sheets with your mascara and tears.

"fuck, that's it fuck." he grunted, biting his lip harshly as he slowed down. "fuck yourself on me, ma douce (my sweet). make me cum." he demanded, drawing another whiny cry from your lips.

"c'mon, you want to be a good girl, don't you? thought you were sorry for being such a brat, huh? fuck yourself on me." he cooed, kneading your ass while you pouted but nodded and forced yourself back up.

you rocked your hips back against him, working at a sluggish pace as you were still too blissed out to function normally. the alcohol n orgasm n cock still filling you up left your brain numb and blank.

after a few more rocks of your hips, he pulled out of you and started to tug his cock until his cum shot onto your back. he watched as your swollen n gummy cunt leaked with your juices, panting as he watched you collapse and he laid down beside you.

you both laid there until you both caught your breath. your eyes were heavy n you were already starting to doze off when he nudged you. "c'mon, lets get you cleaned up." he smirked, pushing himself off the bed.

"whatever you say..." you mumbled sleepily.

ᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵇʸ @ᵐᵘʳᵘᶠᶠⁱⁿ

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

maaan it'd be so EASY for chaggie to end up with an adopted cannibal kid after the battle with heaven, tho

with Vaggie's past (and that being a Thing she can Charlie can talk about now), her having her big WAIT THIS IS EVIL IM BEING EVIL moment over a cannibal child she couldn't bring herself to kill....

add to that Charlie, who is now the DIRECT reason quite a few cannibals are Extra Super Dead, thanks to her inspiring them into battle with her song-

"Have you ever felt like you're willing to die-"

very rousing, maybe less fun for her to remember after some of them DID die-

oh hush y'all eat ppl im sure dying isn't the most shocking outcome of a night out that you can imagine

Charlie legit pitched facing final death as a "chance to travel" and "see more of hell" and she did it with a jolly song and dance and GOOD ON HER for getting a fighting force to protect the dream of sinners someday being redeemed! ....but yeah. kinda heavy for her to remember later on, i'd think

and Cannibal Town residents are so tight knit with each other that it's a literal PLOT POINT Charlie has to face off against- no way they don't have families, no way there weren't families broken up by the battle at the Hazbin Hotel- at Charlie's hotel

No way Charlie wouldn't feel guilty about and responsible as FUCK for any little cannibal kid who ended up orphaned as a result....

ahem

(is that kid wearing like frisbee on their head?? whatever. it looks kinda like a halo don't it. kinda ironic. isn't it)

Rosie would even have to SUGGEST anything! She's got a good read on Charlie now and she's 100% on board with Alastor's plans to "guide" Charlie (cough manipulate and use cough cough)

and what would make a better leverage point than introducing a little cannibal kid for Charlie to worry and feel guilty over? an ORPHANED cannibal kid. Orphaned by the same fight Charlie led the cannibals into. Orphaned when the kid's parents DIED fighting for Charlie

(great way for Charlie to always keep Cannibal Town in mind anyway. Good way to make sure she's protective of it)

but oh the irony if Rosie didn't even MEAN for chaggie to end up with the kid!

if Rosie DIDN'T fully understand- just how much Charlie would want to give a loving family and childhood to someone, when she herself had one and is now dealing (trying to deal) with all that crumbling away as an adult-

ALSO THO. IF. Hypothetically. the orphan was the same kid Vaggie spared. Like how many sinner kids are there in hell. Not too many running around. If it was the same kid. if Vaggie saw that

....if the kid saw her- or, no, even better- if when she tried talking quietly with them, and when they heard her voice like that they looked up at her suddenly like

cannibal kid: "...Go."

Vaggie: (instantly standing up) "Right, sorry- I'll go get Charlie, or- would you rather Rosie-" (stops) (looks down)

Vaggie: "...?"

cannibal kid: (is holding onto the end of her hair ribbon)

cannibal kid: (whispering) "Run."

cannibal kid: (hopefully) "Now...?"

Vaggie: "...you, remember?"

cannibal kid: (nods)

Vaggie: (slowly sits back down)

Vaggie: "Yeah, hey. That was... that was a thing, wasn't it. It's, been a while. Three years... didn't think you'd recognize me."

cannibal kid: "Didn't. Look different."

Vaggie: "The long hair, missing eye and missing wings is a lot of change, huh?"

cannibal kid: (shrugs) "You're happy." (sniffles) "It's different."

Vaggie: ".....well, Charlie's the one who did all that. She's, pretty great at that stuff. And she'd like make things different for you too now. If you want."

cannibal kid: "........if I stay at the hotel... can I play with Razzle every day? Not, not just when princess Charlie brings him over?"

Vaggie: "Kinda looks like your stuck with him either way to me. Maybe check he's getting enough air, stuffed down into your coat front like that?"

cannibal kid: (unbuttoning an air hole for Razzle) "But he belongs at the hotel, where Dazzle's murmur- marble- um- murder dial-"

Vaggie: "Memorial..?"

cannibal kid: "Where Dazzle's memorial is."

Vaggie: "If you're okay leaving Cannibal Town, you can belong there too."

cannibal kid: "I'm okay leaving town."

cannibal kid: (beat)

cannibal kid: "It's boring."

Vaggie: "Yeah well, the hotel is definitely not gonna be boring."

cannibal kid: "Does it get blown up EVERY week, or just on special occasions?"

Vaggie: "It sure felt like every week but we're trying to cut back."

cannibal kid: "Dang."

please imagine tho, Charlie seeing this sad orphan kid who won't talk to anyone, maybe even "hasn't so much as had a nibble on anyone, the poor little biter" according to Rosie, since being orphaned-

and the next time Charlie visits she brings RAZZLE

and she introduce the two of them, then stands back and watches her childhood plushy turned demon win over this kid SO FAST, disappearing into their tiny but fierce little hugs, getting them to share a donut with him, showing them how to do a little song and dance routine (one him, Charlie, and Dazzle used to do) bringing a bit of normalcy back to a kid who's parents are dead because of her-

Charlie thinking to herself, that the least she can do, really, is give this kid as many of the best parts of HER own childhood as she can

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Oh, you wanna play psycho killer? (Ghostface! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader x Ghostface! Peter B Parker) Part 1

RAAAAA! Excited about this one! Based off this post. Inspired by this drawing from Andalusia_Lu on Tiktok. Not proofread. Tbh I’m kinda nervous about this one but…Enjoy! Also in this story MJ and Peter are just friends. This is probably the darkest think I’ve written.

(Y/N) - Your name.

NSFW!!, Cursing, use of alcohol, death, murder, yandere behavior, Reader has a bf who does die, violence, blood, said reader’s bf calls her derogatory remarks behind her back, religious imagery(I think???), stalking, male masturbation, invasion of privacy, reader being drugged, panty stealing, stalking, implied kidnapping, gore, cameras being placed in readers home without their knowledge, it’s a horror one shot so… you know what you’re walking into. Dead Dove Do not eat, MDNI!

Word count: 2.5k

Part 2

Masterlist

—

October 31st, Halloween night. Also know as the night that gives college students an excuse to get fucked up while in a shit quality costume that cost 50 bucks at spirit Halloween.

That little rule you are not exempt from, that’s how you found yourself in a random college frat party at NYU, a bottle of beer in one hand, and your boyfriend’s in the other as you drag him through the crowd so you both can dance. The alcohol in your system made your whole body relaxed and your cheeks glow with a dash of red over them, your eyes half-lidded and your smile wide as you looked up at Daniel while Promiscuous from Nelly Furtado blasted through the house. You looked like an angel straight from heaven, although that might be due to your customer, being dressed up as Juliet from the 1996 movie, while your boyfriend was clattered in armor as Romeo. The costumes being your idea after having rewatched the movie a few weeks ago.

You both had lost the rest of your group in the crowd, Jess and MJ had said they were going to the kitchen while Miguel and Peter had said they were going outside to get fresh air but you haven’t seen them since, you wouldn't have extremely worried, if it wasn’t for the reason sightings of the ghostface killer that had been popping up on the news though. Sure maybe going to a party wasn’t the best idea either but you figured you would have been fine since you were going in a group, I mean, what wouldn’t you be okay? It’s not like an actual serial killer goes after a group of young adults who are all drunk right? But now you’ve lost 4 out of 6 people in said group. But maybe in the small chance you do get targeted, you should be able to stand a chance since your Daniel was always in the gym with Miguel, so he was pretty jacked (not as jacked as Miguel though but you’ll never say that out loud).

One song turned to two then to three, just like the beers in Daniel’s hand, you had slowed down so you could at least be sober enough to order a Lyft for when the night was over. Eventually you were whisked away from your boyfriend by MJ and Jess, thankful that they were still at the party and nothing happened to them.

“Hey, have you guys seen Peter or Miguel?” You shouted over the music after a while, Jess just shrugged, before MJ answered.

“They texted me that they found Daniel and he’s like, fucked up apparently.”

—

“Please!”

Stab.

“I don’t want to die! Please stop!”

Stab.

“I’ll give anything! Just don’t kill me!”

The begs and pleads become more desperate and sloppy with every second, the words slurring more together from the alcohol and the crimson red liquid dribbling out of Daniel's mouth. The sight was almost enough to make the two men feel pity. Almost.

“Anything?” The shorter one asked with an agonizingly slow head tilt, his voice altered from the voice changer attached to the plastic mask, signaling for the other to stop plugging the knife into their victim’s stomach. Despite not liking being told what to do, he dropped Daniel on the floor with a snarl. Daniel quickly retracted into a small ball, shaking arms going to cover his bloody wound with a groan and whimper.

“We want (Y/N).” If it weren't for him being in excruciating pain and bleeding out, Daniel would have thought they were joking, but the tone in which the words were spoken made his blood that was spilling out from his stomach and mouth run cold.

“W-what?” He asked as he tried to keep his breathing from becoming shallow and his head from becoming too dizzy, but he was failing miserably.

“You heard us. We. Want. (Y/N).” The larger one spoke this time. How badly, he wanted to emphasize each word with another stab, the knife in his hands twitched a bit as he tightened his grip on the black handle. He was itching for an excuse, but he’ll refrain.

For now.

Maybe it was the way he responded to a stressful situation, or maybe it was the lack of blood finally affecting his brain, but Daniel had the nerve to laugh. Fucking laugh. The laugh was breathy, and in between coughs and groans, causing Miguel and Peter to look at their prey like he was the crazy one. Rage filled their bodies when Daniel finally composed himself enough to talk again.

“Y-you can’t be serious? …Right? You-you’re gonna kill-kill me over some bitch?”

How fucking dare he.

How dare he speak about you like you were some random skank, like you were a pile of dirt. You were a fucking goddess, Miguel and Peter knew that, because they worshipped you like one. They didn’t see what you saw in Daniel, he didn’t deserve you, no one did, except Miguel and Peter, they would treat you better than any other man that roamed this stupid planet, and especially far better then the sorry excuse of a boyfriend that they had on the ground like he was a wounded animal.

For someone who was about to die, he sure had a lot of nerve.

He didn’t love you like they did, he didn’t know your every move like they did. They were like your real life guardian angels, always following behind you to make sure no one would harm so much as a hair on your pretty little head, and how lucky were they, that you were juuust oblivious enough that you don’t notice them, just enough to brush of your rummaged trash as raccoons, just enough that you didn’t noticed when a pair or two of your dirty panties go missing, you had too many to keep track of all of them anyways. Never knowing that one of the two would sneak into your apartment while you were asleep to grab them from your hamper, no matter which boy had decided to embark on their mission, both of them had to fight against the struggle to not stay and watch you sleep, fighting the urge to release their painful hard members and stroke while watching you sleep. They’d be lying to themselves if they said they haven’t lost the battle at least once before, biting into their free hand to stop any moans from escaping and waking you up, while they fist fuck their cocks with the other, but can you blame them?

They just loved you so much and you loved them too, you just haven’t realized it yet. How could you when that pest of a boyfriend of yours was pumping your head full of false thoughts? He didn’t love you like Peter and Miguel did. Sure Daniel might seem like he loved you so much, going as far as to get you flowers and gifts from time to time, but Miguel and Peter’s gifts they would give you were so much better, because these gifts were all given to you with the same purpose. To help them watch over you, make sure you were safe, strategically planning to make sure to eventually fill your entire home with cameras right under your adorable nose. The teddy bear that sits on your bed and the light up mirror over your bathroom sink were first of course.

Peter couldn’t help himself, with all of his force, he kicked Daniel right in the balls, causing him to curl up more in pain. Miguel was going to do the same when his phone pinged in his pocket, he quickly took it out and checked it, your name filling his screen made his heart skip a beat.

“It’s (Y/N). She’s asking where we are, and wants us to meet her at her apartment after she drops off Jess and MJ in 15 minutes.” Miguel mumbled as he looked down at his phone, before looking up at Peter then down at their prey on the ground. “She probably thinks we’re still with him, what should we do with him?”

Peter’s eyes followed Miguel’s gaze down to the half- conscious Daniel, silent as if thinking about what to say, or more likely what to do with him.

“We could leave him here for dead?” Peter suggested, but Miguel shook his head at the thought, too risky, they couldn’t have the chance of him being found by someone and taken to the hospital, that could ruin everything.

“You both… ar-are fucking psychotic! Killing me over some-some bitch who doesn’t eve-even give good fucking… fucking head!” Daniel yelled between coughs, more blood falling from his blue-turning lips, he looked like he had seen a ghost due to how pale he was becoming from the blood lost, and now he’s gonna become one. Miguel’s phone buzzed again, this time you only sent a single question mark, looking down at his phone.

“I want you to know that if I wasn’t about to be late to see you, I would beat this guy bloody, for the way he talks about you.” Miguel said out loud as if you could actually hear him, as if you were actually here to hear how true those words were, but instead Miguel raised his knife with one hand and grabbed Daniel’s hair with the other. Enjoying the way the Dani’s eyes widened in fear, his weak arms flailed around as he tried to fight the larger man off of him, but it was no use. “Guess I’ll just have to cut straight to the point.” He said, the smirk evident threw his altered voice before putting his knife against Daniel’s throat and slashing it open. Watching whatever life that was left in him drain from his eyes.

Peter being the skilled photographer he was, took a selfie of the two with their slayed animal, now it’s time to go claim their trophy.

—

Something was off.

Like seriously off, ever since Peter and Miguel disappeared at the party neither of them had answered their phone, and as soon Dani disappeared neither had he. Maybe the party wasn’t the best idea in retrospect, you let out a sigh as you entered your apartment, and collapsed on your couch, wanting to try and calm your racing thoughts a bit before you changed out of your costume. Closing your eyes, and taking in a deep breath.

Your phone started to ring.

Usually, you didn’t answer calls from people who weren’t already in your contacts, so the “blocked number” would normally set off red flags, but maybe the alcohol was still making your brain foggy, because without thinking you answer the call and put your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

No answer.

You left out a huff and tried again.

“Hellooo?”

When you didn’t get an answer again you rolled your eyes.

“I think you got the wrong numb-“

“Wanna play a game?”

“I’m-I’m sorry?”

“I said, wanna play a game?”

“Um no thanks. I'm hanging up now.”

“Hang up and you won’t get to see your special surprise though.” Oddly enough, you grew a bit curious.

“Wha..what do I have to do?” You asked.

“It’s simple, We’re gonna play a small game of hot and cold.” You had a feeling this wasn’t a good idea, maybe you shouldn’t answer the call. “Right now you’re cold.”

Without another word, you slowly got up, and made your way down the hall, your floorboard creaking underneath your heels.

“Warmer.”

Your heart begins to beat in your ears, you bring a shaky hand up to the doorknob of your bathroom, you go to open the door when the voice from the other end of the phone spoke again.

“Colder.”

You quickly bring your hand back down to your side and let your heavy footsteps make your way into your bedroom.

“Hotter.”

You swallowed the thick lump of saliva down your throat as you made your way to the left side room, your eyes dead set on your closet.

“Hotter.”

You closed the gap between you and the closet, and brought your hand to the handle, mentally preparing yourself for whatever hides before the wooden doors.

“You're on fucking fire baby.”

Your hand drew back the door, the sight made you let out a blood curdling scream, almost dropping your phone in the process. Your Daniel, dead, sitting on the closet floor, gutted out like a fish. The voice on the other end of the phone let out a sly chuckle before speaking once again.

“Sorry about your boyfriend, guess all those muscles didn’t help much.” He mocked before the call went dead, and you finally released your phone, it falling to the floor, as your body began to shake and your breathing became rapid.

You let out a sob and began to stumble away from the mangled corpse that you once called your boyfriend, only for your back to meet with a what felt like a wall of muscle, you quickly look up over your shoulder, being met with the infamous ghostface mask that has been plastered all over the news.

“What’s the matter (Y/N)? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The altered voice taunted. No, no, no,no. This cannot be happening. You shook your head as another sob left your lips stumbling away from the masked killer and into the hallway, expecting him to follow after you, but instead he just watched you. If you were thinking straight. You’d probably realized that this was a trap, but you weren’t thinking straight, as you finally reached the front door, you went to unlock the door and leave your apartment, but before you even stepped foot out of the door a large hand came and grabbed you around your waist. You take in a deep breath and open your mouth to scream, but instead a white cloth came and covered your nose and mouth, the strong smell of chemicals quickly filling your lungs.

“Surprised (Y/N).” This voice was a bit deeper, then the one from your bedroom, your head became dizzy as you eyes fluttered, your vision was beginning to blacken, before you were fully go under, you saw the man holding you still was a lot larger than the other one, it clicked, there were two of them.

You black out.

—

“She out?” Peter asked Miguel as he slipped off his mask, Miguel following suit.

“Like a light.” Miguel smirks as he goes to pick you up bridal style, your body limply laying in his arms. The two couldn’t help but smile as they watched your sleeping form, so peaceful looking, like an Angel. Their angel. Their plan played out just as they wanted, you were theirs now, and theirs alone. No one could come in the way of you three anymore, all they had to do now was make sure you wouldn’t leave them. But how would you do that if you didn’t know where you were? You couldn’t. That’s why Miguel gently placed you in the backseat of Peter’s car, before getting into the passenger’s seat. They were going to make sure you were far, far away from your old life, so you could start your new one with your lovesick killers.

[3rachasdomesticbanana]

Crazy in Love | Han Jisung

Saw a post awhile back saying that they wanted to see a Jisung/Joker smut. I wrote this months ago but wasn't sure how I felt about it so it's just been sitting in my drafts. I wouldn't really say there's a plot with this one.

Synopsis: You're bored and wanna play. Who cares if J.One is in a meeting for world domination? It's never stopped you before. He'll ruin your makeup and end lives just fine.

Pairings: Crime boss Jisung x Female Reader

Content Includes: smut, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, Dom Jisung...sort of?, slight degradation and name calling, brief mention of violence and guns, hair pulling, I'm sure I forgot something lol

Want more smut? Follow the 🍌

“Mista J!” you sing-song, skipping into the room wearing nothing but a red and black lace bra and leather shorts too short to be considered anything but underwear.

Jisung sits surrounded by his worthless minions at the head of the table. They all pretend you don't exist, of course. Not one eye looks in your direction; if they did… well, their brains would decorate these four walls. Like the king he is, Jisung sits on a throne of premium leather that you were handed when you walked into the store. Really, the fancy schmancy furniture store just gave you whatever you pointed at. Okay, fine, maybe it had something to do with the two double-barrel sawed-off shotguns you held, but that's beside the point.

There's nothing too good for your Jisungie. There's not a thing you wouldn't do for this man. You would die for him, you would kill for him, raise hell with him, making the city cower as king and queen. You love every moment of it. Straddling and looking pretty on Jisung's lap, you kiss him. It’s sweet on your end, but he takes it a step further, making it hot and messy, drawing porn-worthy moans from you.

"Mmm, Mista J.One… If I didn't know better, I'd say you were trying to fuck me on this table right in front of everyone," you tease, a mischievous glint in your eyes. He responds with a wicked, deadly grin that sends a rush of heat to your core.

"Lovely, I had to kill at least a dozen men after the last time. I can't risk that happening now, can I, pet?" he says, his voice low and dangerous. His eyes flick up to the center of the room where his men sit, the intensity of his gaze daring any of them to look in your direction.

The way he glares, daring anyone to even glance at you, thrills you to your core. The reckless and dangerous aura he exudes turns you on, knowing he's willing to burn the entire world down for you, taking down anyone who dares to look at you. You pout and wiggle your hips, a soft whine escaping your lips as you feel him, hard and ready, pressing against you.

“Let me play, baby,” you whisper, leaning into him and licking the heart-shaped spider web tattoo on his neck.

He groans and shivers, bucking his hips up, making you squeal with delight and lust as his zipper brushes against your cunt. The damned leather is getting in the way of feeling more than you want, but that's okay; your mind is set on something bigger and better. You wriggle again, and he growls, the sound reverberating deep within you. Any other person would be scared, but you eat it up, craving more.

“What are you waiting for, lovely? Get on your knees for me,” he demands, his voice soft and dark, like feathers on a raven.

You almost fly up from his lap with excitement, hurrying to kneel between his thighs, looking up at him through your long lashes. The thing about this throne that caught your eye was the little footrest it came with. It's your favorite spot. Some days you sit there just waiting for him to use you any way he pleases. Your excited, maniacal giggles echo throughout the room as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra. Your breasts bounce free from their confines, and you swing the garment around your head like a lasso, letting it fly free. You have no clue where it lands, but from the sounds of it, it seems to have landed on some poor guy's head.

Jisung smirks and cocks his head to the side, slowly looking in the direction of the unfortunate soul. "Oopsie," you whisper, reaching out to unwrap the present in front of you.

When Ji is satisfied that the man won't move, he looks down at you with his cock in your hands. You marvel at the size, as always, appreciating him, worshiping every inch of him. With loose fingers, you guide your hand up the length of his cock, feeling the heat radiate from the impressive muscle. Your mouth waters in anticipation and you smile up at him.

"Oh, Mista J, you're so hard for y/n." you purr, your mouth getting closer to the head of Jisung's cock.

The leather squeaks when he grips the arm of the chair, letting you take the lead... for now. You are his queen, after all—his beautiful nightmare. Damn it, if he didn’t have to go through with this fucking meeting, you would be bent over the table, drooling while he pounded his cock into every one of your fucking holes. Jisung is pissed, but only a little. These fuckers in the room better not dare look at you while his trigger finger is itchy.

With a wave of his hand, the meeting resumes, and you can hear the men shift uncomfortably, speaking about whatever plan for world domination Jisung's genius mind concocted. You ignore it all, too focused on watching the precum increase the more you play with Ji’s cock. So much more fun than any video game you were playing moments ago. You need him to make a mess of your makeup.

Every touch, every stroke sends a jolt of pleasure through both of you. Jisung’s eyes, dark and intense, flicker with a blend of rage and lust as he watches you. He’s a volcano on the verge of eruption, held back by the thinnest thread of control. Your breath shakes as you feel the weight of his cock in your hand, the slickness of his precum making each movement smoother, more urgent.

He exhales sharply, a barely audible groan escaping his lips. The power you hold over him in this moment is exhilarating, each pump of your hand drawing a reaction from him.

"Such a pretty cock you have, Ji," you whisper, blowing cool air over him. You watch with delight as he makes it bounce for you, the sight eliciting a soft, approving hum from your lips.

More crazed laughter from you rings out through the room, and Jisung loves it. He revels in the way you make the men in the room flinch. They're just dying to look at you, their fear mingling with desire.

"All the better to fuck your pretty mouth with, y/n, and that pretty cunt of yours," he replies, putting a crude emphasis on the word "cunt" and laughing loudly.

His laughter is just as insane as yours, but far more psychotic and unhinged. That's because he is certifiably insane. You would know; you're the one who diagnosed him. His psychosis, however, makes you feel safe. It's almost as if it connects you two in a way that psychology cannot explain. The two of you put on a show for the men in the room, mentally synchronized and wondering who will be the first to break. Knowing that cold steel is right underneath the chair, Jisung will make quick work of eliminating the weakest one.

When you flick your tongue out to lap up the liquid that now coats the tip of his cock, he shudders and leans his head back, licking his lips. The voices around the room waver, but they continue as if you aren't here. Good boys. Now it's time for Jisung to be a good boy for you and lose his mind. You gasp in delight and lick your lips, humming.

“Mmm, so tasty. Whaddya say, J One? Can I be greedy tonight?” Batting your lashes up at him, you grin.

His hand grabs the back of your neck tightly, but not uncomfortably, and he leans down, getting closer to your ear.

“Take it all and leave no drop behind, and you'll get a reward for being so good.” He slams his mouth onto yours in a crushing kiss, both physically and spiritually.

He leans back, fingers massaging your scalp, petting you while watching whatever presentation his men are rambling about. Your tongue gets to work, starting at the base, trailing up and over every ridge and vein along his cock. You lick every surface, coating him and savoring how his hands begin to become less caressing and more rough. The sound of voices fades into the background. All your focus is on Jisung and his cock now.

Heavy and warm against your tongue, you take him deeper and deeper, further than you've ever allowed yourself to go. He lets out a slow, deep groan and fists your hair when the head of his cock presses against the back of your throat, and you keep going. It's hard to focus on your breathing, to keep it steady and even, when he's making those sounds. You've never heard him sound as desperate as he does now. He doesn't care who hears him or sees him vulnerable like this though. Only an idiot would use this moment against him.

The feel of his fingers tightening in your hair, the taste of him on your tongue, the vibrations of his groans echoing through your body, it's better than any psychedelic drug in the world to you. You can feel the tension in his thigh muscles, the way his hips involuntarily twitch, seeking more of the pleasure you're giving him. Jisung's breaths become ragged, his control slipping with each movement of your tongue and each press of your lips.

“Shit, lovely. Fuck, mm.” he whispers, closing his eyes momentarily before opening them again to survey the room.

You know there's no way he's paying attention to anything but your lips wrapped around him, and you're right. Jisung couldn't care less if anyone was watching; he'd check the footage from the cameras later and deal with anyone who thought it was a good idea to watch you suck him off. For now, he loves how amazing you feel as you force his cock deeper down your throat. He doesn't mean to make the noises he does, but how could he hold them back when his queen loves hearing him be so vocal? He can feel your smirk, knowing that you have him wrapped around your finger.

Your tongue swirls around the head of his cock, savoring the taste and the way his body tenses with each movement. Every moan and groan that escapes his lips fuels your determination to take him deeper, to push him further into ecstasy. His hands fist your hair more gripping it tightly, to steel himself against the overwhelming pleasure.

"That's my lovely baby. Ah—yeah, gonna fuck you till you can't stand later, y/n. Do you hear me?"

You hum in response, the vibration of your lips sending shivers through his body. He whines and growls, balling his free hand into a tight fist, so tight that his knuckles start to turn white.

"Fuck, babe… gah!" He stiffens his legs, forcing himself not to buck up and make you choke on his length. He wants to wait until you've taken him all the way down your throat for that. "Ke-keep going. Yeah, nice and s... s-slow," he continues in a husky, breathy whisper.

Once you have every inch of him in your mouth, he waits for you to pull up a couple of inches before forcing your head back down. You gag and cough as he repeats the motion again and again. Your eyes water, and tears stream down your face from the relentless thrusting of his cock hitting your throat. He's fucking your face now, using your mouth like a fleshlight, controlling you by your hair. And you're soaking through your panties, coating the leather shorts with your arousal.

“Fuck, mm! Y/n... wrap your lips tighter. Mhm, just like that, baby. That's a good girl.”

You want to rub your clit so badly, but you'll topple over backward if you let go of the hold you have on Jisung's thighs. So, you squeeze your legs together tightly, releasing over and over while Ji has his way with you. His pre-cum oozes down your throat, steadily leaking like a faucet. The friction you're creating feels so good you could cum just from that. Your moans vibrate more, sending him into a feral frenzy. He feels his balls tighten, and he gets louder, grunting each time he rams his cock down your throat.

Jisung filling your mouth completely so harsh and fast is overwhelming. You can taste the salty tang of his pre-cum mixing with your saliva, creating a slick, warmth that coats your tongue. Each thrust makes your pussy ache with need, the pressure in your core building feeling almost unbearable. The heat of his body, the firm grip on your hair, makes your head spin.

His thrusts become more erratic and his grunts turn into desperate moans. You can feel the pulse of his cock on your tongue, the way it twitches and hardens even more.

“Daddy's little monster sucks cock so good. Isn't that right, gentlemen?!” Jisung questions loudly. A few agree hesitantly, not knowing how to answer, and those few would be gone by morning.

Why? Because how would they know that you're good if they weren't watching your performance? Jisung is a smart man; most psychopaths are. With a smirk and a moan, he thrusts upwards while pushing your head down into his lap. Your makeup is a mess, just the way you wanted. Tear streaks run down your face, and you're satisfied with your appearance. You'll be even more satisfied when he cums and even more so when he fucks you later.

“Every. Drop. Y/n. Swallow every fucking drop I'm about to give you. You ready, baby? I'm so fucking close.” he grinds out, gritting his teeth and his grip on your hair tightens painfully making you wince.

His hips jerk as he forces you down, the rough fabric of his pants scratching your cheeks, adding to your ruined face. Your heart pounds in your chest, matching the rhythm of his increasingly erratic thrusts. The sounds of his grunts and your muffled moans create a symphony of depravity echoing off the walls.

Jisung's mind is a funhouse of madness. If you were to open it up right now, the maniac's mind would be full of murder, mayhem, and you. It's a joke the way you make him feel—the best joke ever. How hilarious it is that a woman like you can make him weak, make him shiver all over, and become a moaning, whining mess. Your lips look so tantalizingly puffed out around him he almost wants to coat them with his cum, but he did say for you to swallow every drop, and he's a man of his word. He sees everything through, no matter how tempting it is. The humming you're doing on his cock is driving him madder than he already is. Oh god, do your lips feel so good to him. Jisung growls deep in his throat, a guttural sound that signals his impending climax.

“Take it, baby. Take it, y/n. Right. Fucking. Now. Oh, fuck!” His hands force your head down as he shoots rope after rope after rope of cum down your throat.

It hits the back of your throat forcefully and pools there until you relax, letting the warm, salty liquid easily go down. You swallow every drop he gives you, just like he told you to, the action drawing a final shuddering moan from him. Another growl and he's quickly pulling your head back and picking you up. You gasp for air as he spins you around and lays your stomach flat against the hard white surface of the table.

“GET OUT!” he yells, and every man in the room scatters. The one with your bra still on his head tosses it onto the table with shaky hands, sporting a very uncomfortable-looking hard-on. “Fuck if I'm waiting to fuck you.”

Your tight shorts are forced down roughly, and he rams his cock into your cunt, making you scream. He’s rough, really rough, and his thrusts are fast, creating a delicious mixture of pleasure and pain. Pain and pleasure, pleasure and pain—mix the two, and you've got the base of you and Ji’s relationship.

“Harder, Jisung, ah! Fuck me harder, please.” you beg him, and he laughs maniacally again.

He smacks your ass before reaching around and grabbing you by the neck. The slapping sounds of your bodies coming together are so loud that they cover up your yelps of pain when he does as you asked. It hurts so good you become incoherent; you don't even hear Jisung when he says that this will be all you're good for. It's a joke, his best yet if he's honest with himself, which he won't be. He'll pretend that he keeps you around just to fuck but he knows Gotham only has one queen, and that's you. He just doesn't want to admit that the way your cunt holds him and pulls him in, is the reason for his insanity now.

“Fuck, I'm gonna cum again, y/n.” his legs tremble with each long stroke inside you.

“C-cum, Jisung! Oh god, I'm there. Right… right…” Inhaling deeply, you let go, moaning loudly cumming on Jisung's cock and he follows you, filling your cunt.

“That’s my lovely—mmph! Filling your pussy to the brim. My sweet, deranged cum slut.” He pulls you back into him by your throat, finding your mouth and placing a possessive kiss on your lips. “Surrender your existence to me, y/n and let’s watch the world burn, darling.”

“Everything that I am, Mista J you already own. Let the ashes rain, baby!” You throw your head back with a crazed laugh and Jisung joins you, holding you tight in his arms.

✧ 𝔗𝔞𝔤 𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱 ✧

@resi4skz @3rachasninja @moonlightndaydreams @rylea08 @hanjiphile @krayzieestay @oddracha @ldysmfrst

•If you want to be tagged in future posts let me know here•

[threepandas]

Bad End: Royal Red

Have you ever seen blood BURN like the sun?

I'm not even sure "burn" is the right word for it. Writhe? Scream? HATE? Like a standing on a cliff, staring down at a valley consumed in flames. Old forests full of life... burning. Dying. Wrong.

The sky choked with thick black smoke. Tar-like and staining. The ROAR of it. Moisture ripped so utterly from the air, it hurts to breathe. Heat so absolute as it rises... you can not imagine there was ever, EVER life here.

But there was.

And it was once beautiful.

Ancient and green, bird song and morning mist. Moss beneath bare feet and the gentle quiet that is no quiet at all. A thing ALIVE. Breathing. Whole. Now gone beneath the flame. The carnage and hunger. As animals flee for their lives and your men die, desperate to hold back the all consuming spread.

Nothing but FIRE remains.

But have you seen BLOOD burn? The weeping wounds of a soul? The... WRONGNESS inside a man, catch light? A shade of ever overlapping crimson. Drying blood somehow just as fluid as the fresh. Old wounds and new. Somewhere, the depth of scars...

BURNING.

I have.

I do.

I wish I did not.

There is something... WRONG with his Highness. Now, the Crown Prince. He... He HAD brothers. Some were awful, others indifferent. But all of them? All of them are gone. Terrible accidents, allegedly. One after another. And they were NOT the only one's. Consorts, lovers, mistresses and supporters. Allies and anyone unfortunate enough to be in his Highness' way.

But of course, I can prove nothing. And to SUGGEST such a thing? That would be Treason. Defamation of a Royal. That it is TRUE? Holds no bearing. Is utterly irrelevant. Even if I HAD had the proper training, even I'd my Gifts WERE formally recognized, ultimately? Politics is King.

It's not supposed to be. But when has life ever been so kind? When has "supposed to" EVER won the day? No. Such talk gets men killed. And dying once? Was quite enough for me.

Though I HAD to wonder...

How does a Protagonist fuck up SO BADLY, that they somehow send their Hidden Route target, into an empire conquering, murder spiral? That's not "a few bad choices" levels of making a mistake. THAT'S? Damn near deliberate sabotage and I just wanna talk. Violently.

I WOULD too, if I wasn't pretty certain they were either on the run or in exile.

All I had wanted? ALL I HAD EVER WANTED?? Was to just be set dressing. Soldier A, the unimportant background gaurd. A nice, faceless, grunt. Maybe chat with my equals of plot significance, a potted plant and yonder chair. Then? I could take my pay, go home, and live quietly.

But NO!

I get stationed following the Seventh prince. Mr. Hidden Route himself. Which? Okay, fine. Was HOPING for gate duty, cause NOTHING happens on gate duty, but FINE. But THEN? Half my co-workers are ASSHOLES. Like... child abusing assholes! The FUCK?!

So? Oops. Accident on the stairs! Whoops! Lemme help you there, man. Oh? Did I ACCIDENTALLY crush the hand you used to hit that kid? Golly! Gee, I sure hope the healers can fix that for you! (I fucking know they both can't and wouldn't if they could. You can't afford SHIT.) Lemme HELP you there, AGAIN, BUUUUUDDY~☆!

Threatening you? Why I would NEVER! That's illegal!

You know... like hitting kids.

And OTHER shit they try to pull. Never DID get around to updating my Gaurd Forms. Whoops. Turns out being able to literally SEE the malicious intent on a fucker? Makes it pretty easy to know who to watch. DID get jumped a lot though. Stabbed a few times.

I just? Wanted to watch my favorite Otome game play out, you know? Get payed while doing it. Sunk cost fallacy kicked in. I've been here since I was a PRE-TEEN. Signed up for training, a ten year contract, and everything! I can LEAVE now... but like? Go WHERE? And honestly... I'm not actually sure I CAN.

Things are... Tense.

Or maybe they're just tense for me? 'Cause... Cause something isn't right. It's that burning blood color. The way it fills a room. Reaches, covetous, like staining hands. Writhes and drags itself against everything. Something unholy, between a lustful grind and the dragging of the wounded. It's not even demonic. No... somehow? It's WORSE for being utterly human.

There is something deeply wrong with the man I am sworn to obey, and I do not know how to escape him.

Because I definitely SHOULD.

I'm not stupid. He's been... been keeping me, SPECIFICALLY, close at hand, since becoming Crown Prince. The SECOND he was able to assign his OWN gaurds? I am suddenly honor gaurd. Yet not. I have basically no job but to stab just behind and to the side of him and look pretty. (For the given quality of THAT.) And...? Even the other gaurds are looking nervous.

It's NEVER a good thing when powerful people suddenly pay attention to an individual gaurd, servant, or maid. They tend to end up... hurt. Dead. Worse. And given recent behavior? Well... I've been getting offers to quietly arrange an "accident" for me.

Not so sure it won't get everyone involved killed.

He wasn't always LIKE this. Yeah, he was... different, but it wasn't BAD. Just... off. A bit weird. A color I hadn't seen before and couldn't for the life of me figure out. It had been... well, nothing. Not even grey. I KNOW grey, it's apathy or depression. Emotional flatness.

But his Highness? Like mist. The lite distortion of water droplets. Colorless and near weightless, drifting gently along. It was as though he DIDNT have emotional responses to anything. Not even flat. Just... non-existant. Which? If so? That's okay! Really. Takes all types. Something to NOTE, yeah, maybe accommodate? But fine.

It's not like there were psychiatric meds or doctors we could get for him. If he was different, so be it. We just had to work around that. Plan accordingly. Worst case scenario, maybe keep him away from small breakable things. But? He seemed benign. I shrugged and moved on. Accepted him as he was.

Maybe went out of my way to explain things with logic more then feelings. Even when I WAS explaining feelings. Ethics. Pretty much anything else he asked. Which... wait a second...

Fuck.

A nameless gaurd SHOULD NOT know that much about psychology or politics. Economics on the macro or micro scale. Oh god DAMN it Wikipedia! You betray me a lifetime away?! Et Tu random research binges!?

Okay. Okay! So maaaaybe? THATS why he's keeping me close? Cause yeah, I'm pretty stacked these days. No internet kinda leaves nothing BUT time to train and read... and books are kinda hard to get, at my level. So like? Maybe a second set of eyes?

....doesn't feel right though. Close but missing the obvious mark-ish.

I try to think of my interactions with the prince. BEFORE murder-spiral kick-off. He sought me out a lot. I interfered so many times when his Tutors crossed lines, they got me kicked out of the main building. He started skipping lessons to self-study. I got put on patrol? He learned my patrol schedule. Would invade the gaurd mess.

Got punished for that, I think. Vicious cycle. I get punished, he gets upset, wants to make sure I'm okay, I get punished for his basic empathy and being a kid. They kept reassigning me. I got stabbed that first time. Sent too...

Wait.

I try to pull up what I know of the Game in my brain. The Hidden Route and the other Routes. We are.... WAY off script. Not off GENRE... just...?

Mentally I set the Game aside. Shifting in my guarding position at the Crown Prince's side. He continues to work. The soft rustle of papers and the scratching of his pen, filling the silence along side the clink and shift of my armor. We are in the sun room, surrounded by flowers, supposedly for the better light.

To be honest, I hadn't ever BEEN in this room until I was basicly expected to tail the Crown Prince like a glorified, armor wearing, pet. And too be honest? Given that the REST of his honor gaurd were ACTUAL KNIGHTS? It was well beyond ridiculous at this point.

I was a club bouncer surrounded by elite special forces, in fancy little armor, that I could in NO way, have ever afforded on my own. Oh, and I wasn't really allowed to talk to them. So... WHY? Why, EXACTLY, was I here? There was no realistic way anything could get PASSED all those knights. I certainly wasn't PROTECTING the Crown Prince from SHIT.

And... and he hadn't attacked me, thank God. No touchy hands "service to the crown" shtick. Demanding things I couldn't refuse him. So THAT wasn't it...

Right?

My brain insisted it wasn't. That I should keep going over the list of possible reasons. Consider This or That. But... Something in my gut? Rang like a struck bell. Some non-physical part of me. That peice that twined, like gentle golden ivy, up through my body, too wrap around my eyes from the inside. Not enough, maybe, to get me into some high and mighty school or apprenticeship... but ENOUGH.

Because Magic was, is, and always has been? Divine. For all that HUMANS fail while using it. For every MORTAL error in it's implementing or understanding. It's a drop of the Divine. And? You can not LIE to the Gods. Hide, perhaps, but not LIE. Even then, you'd have to know what you're hiding FROM.

Kinda hard to hide from "using past life knowledge to deduce motivation" when that's not exactly a thing people can easily guess I HAVE. I get away with shit. Know things I really shouldn't.

Am.... am desperately trying to convince myself that the twinge I just felt? DOESN'T mean what I think it means. Even as a cold sweat breaks out over my skin. As I desperately keep my expression placid and my stare straight into the middle distance. Ha ha.... oh god. No no no, oh god, no...!

Okay. OKAY! Lying to yourself will NOT keep you safe! We can do this! Nothing is happening. We just... just have to play it cool. NOT. PANIC.

He DID want us for sexual reasons.

But... more? More, maybe. I poke at the feeling. Try to frame my thoughts as absolute statement as see if I get a twinge again. To get a feel for the edges of whatever is happening. I can not protect myself, if I do not KNOW from what I protect AGAINST. Just sex? No. Was I a convenience choice? Also No. Revenge for something? A sudden certainty that I'd be DEAD if it was.

Oh, THATS not concerning at ALL!

Okay, keep prodding. Uuuuh... He has a thing for big muscle-y dudes with scars? Strong yes. Okay! Getting somewhere! Kinda thought he liked the petite, girly girl-ish typ-? Weirdly hollow No? Strong. Okay, what the FUCK. See THIS? THIS is why I wanted to be a fucking GAURD. No weird Protagonist of any adventures bullshit! Just a 9-5 with a paycheck at the end!

Uuuugh. Okay, soooo... likes? Strong dudes.... and I was the closest? No. Okay! Getting somewhere! Other strong dude... isn't available? Yes, but I am looking at it wrong. Great. At least I know what that feeling MEANS. Still wish it would just follow up with a "and btw, here's the answer~☆" but, fuck no! Why would life make anything EASY for a guy?

Fuck it! Random shit at the wall time. He's definitely in love with the Protagonist? No. Wait, really? Then why...? No. Stay on track. He's in definitely in love with ME? I wait, utterly expectant, for the twinge that will mark a negative. Half cursing myself for not checking with the Divine sooner. There had been no excuse. Distractions, yes, but no excuse.

It feels like getting sucker punched in the gut. HARD.

Takes everything in me, not to wheeze and double over. That... that wasn't a "yes". That was so FAR beyond "yes" I'm not sure there are spoken, written, or even conceptual WORDS for it. As absolute a CONCEPT of Yes as I have ever felt or probably ever will.

It... It did NOT feel good.

That was a WARNING.

Like the Gods them selves had taken me by the back of the neck, stepped close, to whisper in my ear as they drove their fist into my gut. "Pay Attention To This. RUN. You Need To RUN. There Are Monsters Here."

My eyes feel like they are burning. Like I haven't blinked in too long. Colors a bit too bright, details too sharp. The edges of reality cutting like splintering, glittering, glass. Everything has a GLOW to it. It's never done that before. Is... is this panic? Fight or Flight forcing me to draw deeper then I ever have before?

Or are the Gods paying attention? Displeased by what they see?

The room around us is... is so quiet. Beautiful. Rare flowers, teeming with life. Decorative and pampered little song birds, flitting from roost to roost. The rich scent of rare tea and expensive cologne, mixing with armor polish and the scent of green, living things. Sunlight makes his Highness' hair glow like it was made of it. Pale gold and filled with light.

If I could not SEE... his Highness would be beautiful.

But I can, and instead? He's terrifying.

I think I'm shaking. I don't understand. The room around me picturesque. Peaceful. Golden and filled with gently beautiful things. Light. It feels mocking. Paper thin. Like some cruel trap laid out over a pit of tar. As though, like in the cartoons of my old childhood, the INSTANT I become aware... acknowledge the reality of my ACTUAL surroundings?

The paper thin veneer will rip, no longer able to hold my weight, and I will be plunged into the horrors just beneath the lie.

How.... HOW did-?! I... I CAN'T-!

I put everything I am, into letting nothing show. E-Everything is FINE. Do not turn around. Please. Please, Gods, do not notice me or turn around! I breathe. Breathe. Can't do nothing now, but breathe. Panic is the mind killer. I remind myself of that. People do stupid things, when they act in panic. Think. THINK! Plan. THEN act! Breathe.

How? HOW did this happen? Trace it back. Find the source and we can... can maybe unhook the noose. Fix this? Escape? Run and keep running. Find the edge of the map and keep going. Where did it...? My brain, maybe my magic, finally takes pity. Connects the wires that have long been JUST missing each other. My mental list of Genre Troupes. My history with the Prince.

The blood drains from my face.

Oh fuck. Shit! Oh fuck, oh SHIT. Yandere. He was a YANDERE hidden route character! Wasn't he!? It's the only thing that makes sense with the-! No, no, he should still-! But, wait. No. No, no, NO. Oh god! I pulled a combo attack. "Childhood best friend" even though we WEREN'T. I was basically the closest in age to him! AND the only non-asshole! So that's "Different From The Others"!

Oh mother FUCKER, I pulled a "Only One Who Cares About Me" while SERVING him! His fucked up little squirrel brain would have taken that as "belonged to him" only to have me "taken away" when I was assigned elsewhere! Every time I kept someone from ABUSING him, I was making it WORSE. Every time they reassigned me, somebody was "trying to take me away"!

Oh sweet merciful FUCK, I got STABBED!

No WONDER he lost his absolute shit! He was unhinged to begin with! But instead of latching on to Protagonist and being HER problem, he latched on to ME! Why did no one warn me he was-!? Actually, I have no idea. Non-Just-Straight?! That! One of the THAT! Like FUCK I'm asking! He'd think it was an invitation, probably!

Because he NUCKING FUTS! Squirrels in the brain! Def Con OH SHIT!!

Yandere! Shit! I'm gonna di-!

"Something's upset you." The crown prince's surprisingly deep voice says, breaking the silence. I flinch. "I can feel your magic moving. An attack, perhaps? Or is someone saying something they should not."

He... oh, great, amazing! He can FEEL my magic. The magic INSIDE me body. That magic. Yeah, I don't feel stripped naked and on display AT ALL. Thanks! Definitely not invasive, your Highness! Still, I have to answer. Carefully. Very, VERY carefully.

He hums, disbelieving, as I reply. Lifting his pen and setting it aside. A graceful hand lifts. The mere flick of his fingers. "Move" it means. "Come where I can see you". Imperious and royal. Casual in it's assumed control of me. Why would he believe anything else, after all? He IS a prince. The CROWN Prince. Future KING.

He DOES own me.

I keep my breathing even. Keep my hands from visually shaking by tightening my grip on my spear. Even, professional, steps. Forward. Turn. Face your ruler. Your BETTER. No eye contact. Even breathing and eyes to the horizon. You are a statue. Just... just be a statue. No thoughts. You can do this.

It doesnt help. I can FEEL those pale, pale eyes. Striking and blue. Rare flower petals or glacier ice, they have been called. Compared to all sorts of haunting things. The Crown Prince is a beautiful man. That dangerous sort of pale beauty, that make for excellent portraits, of bright and holy things. That fools the eyes into thinking surely, SURELY the soul before your is Good. Trustworthy.

How could anything so beautiful be DANGEROUS?

Be corrupted and insane? A killer. A madman.

A MONSTER.

I stand at attention. Where he can observe me. His little toy soilder. Kept like a PET, I know realize, and try not to feel like I am being picked apart. Like a mouse in some tigers cage. The far wall sure is fascinating. Mmmmhmm. Very... very wall-like. Glass and artfully arranged flowering vines. Very pretty. What a wall! Ten stars for wall-ness.

The near silent shift of fine fabrics. A tap. Nail on high grade armor alloy. Just the smallest of sounds that nonetheless seems deafening. I barely stop myself from jerking back in alarm. Can't prevent my gaze from snapping downwards. To the arm outstretched, the elegant hand curled, the well manicured finger nail on the single outstretched finger... that has placed itself right over my heart. I freeze, utterly.

"You're getting nervous, aren't you? Growing uncertain. I've been so busy planning ahead, I've forgotten the here and now, haven't I?" He muses. That finger I should not be able to feel, that somehow feels like a knife trailed along my skin, glides slowly down. A meandering path down towards my belt. "I've neglected you."

The finger hooks into my belt. I am dragged forward a few stumbling steps with a deceptively strong tug. There is significant muscle, hidden by the almost waifish cut of his Highness daily wear. The eyes watching for my reaction are predatory. Intent. It was as though there should be fangs, in that pleasant, politician's grin...

"My steadfast knight, warrior of my heart, you've been so patient for me... so LOYAL." He rolled the word across his tongue as he said it, eyes locked on me with the sort of interest hunter keep, more a sigh then a word. Somehow.. Somehow the concept became OBSCENE, once in his hands. "So good for me. Even after all this time. Soon, Dearest. Soon we won't have to hide. I promise."

I had NEVER been a knight. Not even CLOSE to qualified for the training. Not even a single branch, magical or otherwise. Worse? I knew for a FACT? We had never, not ONCE, been lovers. No stolen glances. No fumbling youthful hands. No "hey, let's explore this closet!". Nothing. I? Had been studiously professional, if a decent human being.

This was ALL him.

What narrative had he painted in his head?

My heart pounds. My brain somehow both gibbering hysteria and unnatural calm. I... I think I may be disassociating. But all I can think, all I KNOW, is that I can NOT, Under ANY Circumstances, break the illusion. Do NOT argue. Why YES, deeply insane FUTURE KING, I DO love you so VERY much! Hey, don't mind me, just left the phone running. Gonna go for a walk. Buy some milk.

I watch, pleasant service industry smile feeling plastic on my face, as he leans forward. Rests his head against my armored chest, as though we were lovers. Just stealing a quite little moment alone. His hand slides along my belt, fingers hooked into it, the brush of his knuckles feeling far filthier then any groping hand. I can HEAR him breathing me in.

Obscene. How is he making such chaste contact so deeply obscene? He let's out a pleased hum and I want a shower.

"Kneel for me?" So soft I almost don't catch it, it takes a moment to register the words. This time, I can not stop myself from tensing. I know he feels it, but can not bring myself to care. "Shhhh shh shh, none of this, my Darling. To your knees before your King. Sweetheart, my dearest. You're going to be serving me there for the rest of our lives. It's okay. Your King won't rush you. He knows how shy you are. How nervous."

W-Well THAT wasn't treason! At ALL! Ha ha...! Oh god.

Hands at my waist. When did the other one-?! I'm shaking. Smile. D-dont set him off. This is fine. I... I shouldn't be ABLE to feel their heat, through my armor. Somehow I do. I want to back up. If I got to do this? At least let me-!

But, no. Pressure. Hands on my hips dragging me down, watching eyes expectant. In stops and starts... like a seizing automaton, my knees bend. Down I go... I guess.

Almost instantly, there are hands unbuckling my helmet. Sliding it off. Stealing it away. Fingers slide through my hair. Cup my cheek. A thumb running itself across my mouth. The prince seemed to loom. Hungry as he stared down at me.

"Beautiful. My loyal knight is so, SO beautiful. I am going to give us the world. Take what is ours. No one will EVER hurt us again, Dearest. I will keep you forever. Dress you in armor and roses. Mine and mine alone."

There was madness in his eyes. Obsession. Is...is that what that color meant? That burning, terrible blood? It's too late. Oh god, it's too late for that to help me. I smile. Do not argue. Fear and fear and fear. I have to get out. On my knees, it is a terrible view of what's to come, should I fail. The Games's utterly fucked. I no longer care.

I have to get out.

The King, after all, has gotten sick lately.

[nor-4]

Taking care of Sick Geto

Geto Suguru x Reader

"Geto let go I'm gonna pee" You said as you tried shaking geto off, it's been around 8 hours ever since both of you found out that geto is sick.

After that it's like you are trapped in a cage since geto wanted to hug you all day. "Nooo.. Can you hold it for a minute?" he murmured in your chest as he held you waist a bit tighter which makes you wanna take a pee more.

"I'm sweating bullets, it's already hot and you decided to hug me.." You tried reasoning as you try to shake of from his arms, "Not my fault you looks so huggable" He said as he readjusted his arms almost hitting the bowl from the night table that is filled with soup from earlier morning that you made so the medicine will be more effective for him.

Once geto re adjusted you took the advantage to get up from the bed which made the bed rise a little.

You and getou's shared house is not too fancy like those houses you find on pinterest, but sure is cozy and warm that makes you feel really welcome. A type of house that you will be comfortable to have a sleep over with, pantries filled with foods and snacks that geto sure will be nagging about when both of you are out for grocery, those neat looking kitchen that those Asian moms would love.

The living room that kids love because of those consoles and games that geto own, it's a safe place for both of you when all you just wanted was to hug each other while watching.

"I think I'm gonna die.." Geto said looking at you as he was sitting on the floor on the door of the bathroom like a kid as you do your business on the bathroom, "You're not don't worry." You said as you are scrolling through your phone.

"what's taking you so long? Are you shitting?" he nagged you again while giggling, his voice is a bit deeper, more raspy and airy than his normal voice. You always tease him about that because you said that he sound like a kid Justin bieber.

"Maybe you wouldn't know." You shrugged as you wash your self up and flushed the toilet really quick so geto wouldn't even try to take a peak, "Ewww it stinks" Geto acted as he pinch his nose as you walk by.

"Stop acting, you won't act like that later on when you couldn't breath on your other nostril." You said as you headed down stairs to make both of you a meal, this will be the third time that both of you eat. It's very rare for both of you to eat more than three time a day, you guys only did this when either both of you are sick.

Geto followed you like a lost kid as he walk lazily around the house, "I'm not feeling vegetables right now" he complained as he sat down near the stove so he will still be near you.

"Then don't eat, might as well make your cold worse." You stated as you started chopping the vegetables as geto sang lazily to the song you played, it's a habit of you to play music while cooking. Geto remembers the time when he wasn't sick he would dance around just to annoy you or just to enjoy the time with you.

You remembered the time where geto memorized the whole choreo of water by tyla just for you to watch him dance the whole song.

Your mind didn't have the capacity of a phone nor the smartest person on earth. But you remember every detail of it, you remember how much he made you so happy, how much effort he did just to make you laugh after a very busy and stressful week.

"God you're so beautiful.." Geto whispered as you looked at him seeing him looking at you with agape mouth, "I think I should marry you for the 100 times... Noo it's not enough, I should marry you on every chance I get. You know if you are sick, like really sick that there is no other cure than for me to die. I would rather die happy that I get to be loved by you."

Geto said this the time you said yes to him being your beloved of your life forever. He still remembers every detail even the tone he had while saying this, he always have a deja vu everytime he says this it was a good deja ju. A euphoria of the time where he vowed to never make you feel unwanted, unloved or anything that will make you sad. The time he vowed to love you in every aspect of your life, the time he said gratefully that he will love you even as a worm.

"You're being-" you are about to talk but geto keeps shushing you, "Oh girl now let's not ruin the moment." he sassed as you giggled while handling him the plate.

"I'd rather eat dick than eat vegetables all day.." Geto said raising his eyebrows on the vegetables, as you laugh smacking the sickness out of his system.

[strangersteddierthings]

Bad News First, Eddie

Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part

This was getting longer than both Steve and Wayne's parts combined, so I'm gonna break it into 2 parts. Posting part 1 now, and part 2 should be up within a day. Thank you everyone for the wonderful replies/reblogs. I screenshot them cause they keep me going haha.

Trigger Warning: Child abuse referenced, as well as one scene of a child being slapped. Use of slurs in a derogatory manner.

-

Bad news first, Eddie thinks to himself as he swings the trash can lid turned shield, this is a fuckton of bats. Good news, Dustin is safe.

The bats are overwhelming but he's holding his own. He can do this. He can buy them more time. He's done running away from the things that scare him.

-

Bad news, Eddie thinks, watching Dustin sob above him, I'm gonna die here.

-

Eddie dies. He knows this because all the hurt stops. The world has faded into itself, dimming to a blackness deeper than Eddie's ever known.

The afterlife is a bit disappointing if he's honest. He's not sure what he was expecting, but it wasn't nothing. Endless, unfathomable nothing.

He kinda hoped he'd see his mom or something, but that's delusional. If the afterlife was heaven or hell, he wouldn't end up in the one his mom went to, that's for sure. Too many sins under his belt for that.

Death is pretty boring though.

-

Time is impossible to track. He's tried a few times, counting seconds to make minutes but that's so boring he loses his train of thought. Ends up humming some tune or another before repeating the process.

The day he finds himself humming a Wham! song has Eddie a little panicked. He doesn't listen to Top 40 stations. He spent a good deal of time avoiding learning any Wham! songs, actually, so now that he's somehow gotten one such in his head...

This has got to be capital H Hell.

Well. Everyone in town thought he was on the road straight to it. Laugh it up, Hawkins. You were right. The Freak went straight down.

-

Eddie misses Wayne. He can't remember the last thing he'd said to him. When did he last tell his uncle he loved him? Wayne knew it though. He had to know it. They didn't say it out loud but they didn't need to. Right?

-

In the distance, Eddie sees something. A light? He's not sure what it is but it's something new. Something different.

The light leads him back into the Upside Down. The bats are swarming and he just crashed the bike- fuck fuck fuck, run. Run, Eddie, get the fuck out of here!

He's screaming at himself to run but instead his body stops. Turns. Pulls the shield and spear from his back and screams at the bats.

Eddie rips himself back, away. Crumples to the ground, folding into himself. Not that. Anything but that again.

-

A soft humming sound. Gentle, warm.

Loving.

Eddie unfolds himself to see what it is.

His mom smiles down at him, reaches out to ruffle his hair as she hums. Eddie knows the danger has passed and he is safe now because Mamma only hums that when it's safe.

"There's my handsome boy," she moves the hand from his hair to boop the tip of his nose. "How about we play a little game, hmm? The floor is lava!"

She scoops him up and plops him on the kitchen table. There is a crunching sound beneath her feet as she moves. Lava sounds an awful lot like Dad's broken beer bottles but if Mamma wants to play pretend then Eddie can do that for her.

-

His mother is beautiful. The most beautiful woman in the world. He takes after her in a lot of ways. Matching curly locks, the same face scrunch when they're angry, their noses, big brown doe eyes. Eddie even shares her voice, just a different pitch. The point is, Eddie's mom is beautiful and he's got enough ego left at four years old to think of himself as beautiful, too.

The problem, then, is that Eddie makes the mistake of saying it in front of his Dad. 'As pretty as Mamma,' he'd said. They'd, he and Mamma that is, were sitting crosslegged on the floor in the living room. Dad had been in the kitchen, Eddie could hear him puttering about. Mamma had booped his nose and called him the best looking kid in all of America.

Eddie nodded fiercly, "yeah! As pretty at Mamma."

It used to be a fuzzy memory, what happens next. A flurry of movement and shouting. Now he's witnessing it with terrible clarity. His dad's hand curling around his upper arm and yanking him into the air, crushing hard enough to bruise. His dad's shouting at him. He remembers not remembering the words but now they hit him like the slap his dad delivered to his face. "No son of mine is going to be a fuckin' fag, thinkin' he's some pretty little girl. Is that what you want, you little shit? To be a little girl?"

"Stop it! Stop it! Let him go, he didn't mean anything like that!" he hears his Mamma plead but his Dad won't stop shaking him and screaming. He bursts into tears because it hurts and he's confused and his Dad's never hit him before- "Hit me! Hit me! If you're gonna hit someone, hit me!"

Eddie gets tossed aside. He lands on back and sees as his Dad does exactly as his Mamma demanded. Eddie's never been so scared in his life, he can't watch. He scampers down the hall as fast as he can and crawls under his bed to hide.

-

If Eddie had to guess, that's the memory that ingrained his need to run.

-

He's reliving his memories. He's a little embarrassed how long it takes him to figure that out. They say your life flashes before your eyes when you die. They don't tell you that the quote flash unquote takes a really fuckin' long time. Like, you know, your whole life long time.

It's so strange to witness, too. Like he's both watching the memories as an outsider, but also through his own eyes. He has both the knowledge that he had when he died, and also no experience beyond what he's seeing in the memory.

-

He watches his Dad beat his Mamma, beat him, but also watches his Dad push him on the swings and slow dance around the kitchen with his Mamma. And that's the worst part, he thinks. That his Dad could have been an awesome one. If he'd stayed sober like he kept promising. He didn't though, couldn't. Hell, maybe it's even a wouldn't. He watchs Wyatt fucking Munson pick beer and drugs over him and his Mamma time and time again.

Couldn't even put them down long enough to be there when Mamma got sick.

-

Eddie is seven. He's just had his head shaved, bald as his Mamma now. He regrets doing it as soon as he sees his Mamma's smile falter when Uncle Wayne drops him off at the hospital.

"We match, Mamma," Eddie says shyly, eyes downcast. "I wanted to match..."

"Oh, baby, come here," and she's scooping him into a hug, genuinly smiling again, "I love that we match. So long as it was your decision to cut your hair."

Eddie realizes now why her smile had faltered. She thought Dad had shaved his head against his will, probably because long hair was for woman, as he liked to say. Eddie in the memory didn't know that, though, so he just cuddles closer and says, "Yeah. Uncle Wayne did it for me, so it would be nice and even, he said. Wanna hear what we did in school today?"

-

There is something looming at the edges of his vision. Eddie can't seem to make whatever it is come into focus. It's not a memory because those always focus. It's something else. Something new.

-

His dad teaches him to hot wire a car. Makes him learn how to pick the lock on car doors and handcuffs. When he sees how easily Eddie took to lockpicking, he makes him learn other locks, too.

Eddie misses out on school because his dad can't be bother to enroll him and Eddie doesn't know how to do it himself. He's too scared to, anyway. Afraid his dad will start swinging and won't stop until he's dead.

-

When Eddie is eleven, a lot happens. It was a pivitol age for him. He got his first crush (a boy named Jimmy) and a first kiss (a boy named Jeramiah). Eddie also ends up in the hospital because his Dad caught him kissing Jeramiah.

It's not his Dad that picks him up from the hospital, though.

Eleven is the age he is the day his Uncle Wayne moves him to Hawkins, Indiana.

He's also eleven the first time he hears Black Sabbath.

Eddie is also eleven years old when he decides that he wants good news delivered last. To end with something good.

-

He relives becoming himself.

Catching up in school because he's not stupid, but falling behind because he is kinda dumb (schoolwork never seemed as imporant as hanging out with friends, or starting a band, or playing dungeons and dragon, or any other number of things).

The relief he feels the first time he meets another person like him, learns there's another word besides faggot for what he is. Gay. The immense pleasure of feeling truly seen the first time he says that out loud to someone (it's his best friend, Jeff) "Bad news, Jeff. You might hate me for this. Good news, I'm gay."

Good, good news. Jeff doesn't hate him!

There's a fear that Wayne might be like his Dad regarding all this, so he can't tell him; won't tell him.

But then Wayne comes home unexpectedly when Eddie is a freshman and catches him with another boy's tongue in his mouth. Eddie has a panic attack that winds up with him in the hospital.

He remembers the paralizing fear when Wayne came to pick him up upon his release. Eddie had walked to the pickup numb and afraid. He climbed in, buckled the seatbelt, and waited for the worst.

Wayne climbed in and started the pickup but didn't put it in gear. Instead, he spoke, "Life is gonna be rough for you, boy. Rougher than it should be."

Eddie cannot make words form to reply. Can't do anything but shake.

"Eddie," Wayne says and he feels the seat move as Wayne shifts to turn towards him, "the bad news is, life is gonna be rough, but the good news? Living under my roof isn't. Won't be. Eddie, my boy, I love you. And nothing, absolutely nothing, will change that."

Eddie breaks, like a puppet with its strings cut, sags in the seat and sobs. Never, never had Eddie ever bothered to entertain the idea that this might be Wayne's response.

-

Eddie is a sophomore the first time he notices Steve Harrington. It's fucking awful. It's also amazing.

Because noticing Steve Harrington means noticing Steve Harrington. He's immidiately popular because he's good looking and good at sports.

Eddie's not gonna claim to know Steve, he doesn't. There's just these little clues that King Steve isn't a default jerk. For one, Steve doesn't partake in bullying. He stays silent. Lets it happen.

But Eddie's also been witness to two times when Stever did step in; both times when it was escalating to be a phycical altercation.

"Hey, Tommy, don't," Steve had said, not quite stepping between Tommy and the other kid, but enough to be within Tommy's line of sight. "The game is tomorrow. You throw that punch and your hand is gonna hurt like a bitch through the whole game. And I swear to God if we lose this game because you can't handle it-" Steve didn't finish the sentence, didn't have to. Tommy lowered his arm and scoffed. Walked away mutter about how the kid wasn't worth it anyway.

The other time, it had been Jeff he'd defended. Jeff hadn't even been doing anything. Just stumbled into some asshole from the basketball team and knocked him over. Eddie had been the one who'd shoved Jeff (because Jeff was teasing him) and he was ready to place himself in the way when Steve had beat him to it.

"Fucking relax, it was an accident," Steve stood face to face with Roger. Eddie and Jeff just stared at the back of Steve's head. "It's not Jeff's fault that barely tapping you knocked you down like a house of cards. Right, Jeff?"

Eddie and Jeff blinked at each other in a sort of stunned silence because since when does King Steve know either of their names? Steve turned to look over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. Jeff stammered out, "R-right. It was an accident. Sorry, man."

"See, he's even sorry."

Eddie reached out, wrapped his hand around Jeff's wrist, and tugged him away. He could not stay here and witness anymore of Hero Steve or he was going to embarrass himself infront of the entire cafeteria in the worst way possible.

-

That was the tipping point for Eddie. When he finally had to admit he wasn't just noticing Steve Harrington. He had a full blown crush on the dude.

Fuck.

-

Watching his memories play, Eddie realizes he spent far too much time in high school trying to get Steve's attention. Bumping into him on purpose, being antagonistic to his friends just get a response, or trying his best to use Jedi mind powers to make teachers pair them together for projects in the rare few classes they shared (this never worked; teachers liked Steve too much and hated Eddie).

Steve changes between junior and senior year and still doesn't notice Eddie. Eddie's kinda bitter about it.

Then Steve graduates, but doesn't leave. He's always hanging around, bothering the freshman Eddie's taken under his wing. He's not jealous that Dustin Henderson thinks Steve hung the moon. He's not. (he is).

Anyway, the bad news. Steve graduates but doesn't leave and Eddie can't get over his stupid crush. Good news, he and Steve share a mutual friend in one obnoxiously lovable freshman, so that's like one step closer to Eddie being Steve's friend, right?

-

The thing that's looming finally comes into view when his most recent memories come up. Or, more accurately, it -she- makes herself seen.

He's holding a broken bottle to Steve's neck demanding to know what he's doing here and then the scene pulls away from him until he's watching himself threaten Steve. The memory moves in slow motion.

"Eddie?"

He screams because Jesus H Christ nothing else in the afterlife has ever spoken to him.

"I am sorry. I did not mean to scare you," she says. Eddie can see her now. She doesn't look like either an angel or a demon. She just looks like a regular person, a girl with shoulder length brown hair, wearing jeans and a yellow shirt that looks too big for her.

"Uh, it's fine?" Eddie says, because what else is he going to say? "Who're.. who are- what are you?"

"I am Eleven. It has been difficult to reach you, Eddie. Had to try, though."

"What?"

Eleven nods, like someone has said something he can't hear. There is a long pause before she speaks again. "Do you want to wake up, Eddie?"

"What do you mean wake up?" Eddie feels like he might start having a panic attack.

"I am not good with words. Not delicate, Mike would say," Eleven says, "so I will be frank. You are alive. Can be alive. Doctor Owens says you retreated into yourself. To protect yourself. But it's safe now. It is all safe. The Upside Down cannot hurt you again."

Eddie feels the panic set in almost instantly at those words. The memory explodes into black and the girl vanishes.

-

The more Eleven shows up, the more aware of other things Eddie becomes. Occasionally the sound of conversation drifts in but it's far away, muffled. He can taste food on his tongue that he had not eaten. Feel a brush get stuck in his hair.

They don't really talk, he and Eleven. She takes her queues from him and since he's got no idea what's happening he doesn't know what queues to give.

"So, you're not here to like... send me on, or something?" He asks. They're sitting cross-legged in front of each other. Eddie in the outfit he died in and Eleven in shorts, a crop top, and an oversized jacket.

"Where would I send you?"

"Y'know. Like... Hell or wherever."

Eleven is silent a long time before she says, "I don't want to send you anywhere. I want to bring you back."

Back. He can go back? That doesn't seem right. That doesn't seem like it should be an option. "You mean like, back to Hawkins?"

"Eventually."

Eddie's not sure what to make of that. Is he gonna be a ghost? Because if it's Hell or being a ghost, the latter sounds infinity more fun. Plus, as a ghost he could probably check in on Wayne.

"Alright. You win, Eleven. Take me back."

Eleven stands up immediately, offering a hand to help Eddie up. "You have to want it."

"Want to be a ghost?"

"No. You have to want to be alive."

That makes sense, Eddie supposes. Wanting to be alive is probably what makes ghosts be able to like, be ghosts. "OK. OK. I can do this." He does a full body shake, dancing from one foot to another to pump himself up. "Alive. Alive. I want that. I want to live. I want to see my uncle again. Want to give Hawkins a big fuck you for thinking I'd end up in Hell. I want to see Jeff and Gareth! I want to haunt the fuck out of Dustin Henderson for trying to follow me! I want to know if Robin, Steve, and Nancy won! I want to know if they made Vecna pay!"

He is yelling by the end of it, and Eleven is beaming at him like she's proud of him.

"Yes! Yes! Now, wake up!"

-

Eddie does wake up. Sort of. He's already awake, sitting in what appears to be someone's living room. He blinks several times before exhaustion washes over him and he sags back into the chair he's sitting in. "Wh-" he tried to speak but his vocal chords don't seem to want to work.

"Holy shit." A voice says off to his side. It's vaguely familiar. Like a distant memory. "Call Owens! Call Owens right fucking now!"

-

Bad news is this. He's been stuck in his own head for several years. His fucking body has been moving around without him yet the amount of physical therapy he has to do is torture. Fucking Owens won't let him contact anyone until he gets the all clear from his new therapist. Oh, and his uncle believes he's dead.

Good news is this. He's alive.

[blucactus112]

May never come to reality but im planning out a Animatic to AJR's 'Maybe Man' (sue me) and need some help filling in some of the parts.

(Its probably going to be about all the life series in general not specifically Wild life. but feel free to try it fit it all in one series)

!!!long post incoming!!!

General plan so far:

First Half(ish) will be calmly looking at hermits in their peaceful habitats talking about their insecurities.

Finishing the first half when we get to the god part it will be Grian before life series started pleading to watchers and becoming one himself then cutting to him and all the other lifers standing around in a circle (like the start of each series) (much wow)

ONE. TWO. PANDEMONIUM.

murder, just all of the scenes of people dying biggest polt twist, betrayals, and Amount of kills.

Also specifically a close up of grain seeing the server burning in the reflection of his eyes.

ending with another shot of the beginning of a server but we see grains eyes which are weathered and worn out and maybe has some watcher purple

Specific Lines:

Wish I was a stone, so I couldn't feel You'd yell in my face, it'd be no big deal But I'd miss the way we make up and smile Don't want to be stone, I changed my mind

Im thinking scar and Grian Desert Duo? also could be

I wish I had eyes in the back of my head Then I could see the places I've been But then I would know that you're talkin' shit I don't wanna know what my friends think

This im Deff thinking cleo bigb scott and lizzie from the Boogeyman series (i forgor wich one that is)

but open to other ideas

Wish I were my dog out on the lawn I'd be so glad when I hear you come home But if I were my dog, I wouldn't live long I'm sure gonna miss her when she's gone

This is pearl playing with a dog, you cannot fucking make me change my mind

I wish I could act in a show on TV 'Cause then I could practice not bein' me I'll practice my cry, put it into my reel But you won't believe me when I cry for real

im either thinking like Ren or Martyn because of the acting thing or one of the scenes usually portrayed as lots of crying (ie Scott at the end of double life)

I wish that my brain would triple in size I'd nail every joke, I'd win every fight But I'd get too deep with that kind of mind I don't wanna know the point of life

ive been thinking of this as jimmy in general but also i dont want to be mean so other ideas would be great

In some other life I would be rich I'd travel in style, I'd cover the bill But couldn't complain 'bout anything small Nobody'd feel bad for me at all

havent given much thought for ones after this but im thinking Scar on Magic mountain trying to scam everyone?

If I was cocaine or a bottle of Jack I'd get invited to every frat But when you get old and your good days have passed You'll only want me when you're sad

have there been any people that bounce between alliances during one series?

Wish I was a song, your favorite one You'd follow the dance to me at your prom I would be there when your baby is born For two or three minutes, then I'm gone

there was at least one dande floor that was a trap, right??

I wish I was big, as big as my house I'd sleep on the trees, I'd skip every crowd But I wouldn't fit on my therapist's couch God, I could really use him now

probably ep1 of WildLife

I wish I was God, I'd never trip up And if I did, well, so fuckin' what? I could be cruel and break all your stuff Yeah, I'd be loved no matter what

pov grain angst

grain is on super windy mountain top surrounded by watchers crying, pleading to them

But if I was God, it'd get kinda weird 'Cause you would only say what I wanna hear And then you would die, you'd love me to death I never know who the hell I am

grian is surrounded by purple light wings and eyes becoming at least in part, a watcher

I wish I was me, whoever that is I could just be and not give a shit Hey, I'll be whatever makes you a fan 'Cause I don't know who the hell I am

cut to peaceful tranquil plains, all of them jn a circle at beginning of life series laughing joking shaking hands hugging (set em up for emotional damage)

One, two, pandemonium

black, black, PAN DE MONIUM

cut to destruction of server only using reds browns and blacks showing carnage this series has brought (and yes ofc player has died messages will appear in the corner as if in chat)

One, two, pandemonium

im thinking each line will be each of the series in chronological order

Here I go again

One, two, pandemonium

Here I go again

One, two, pandemonium

One, two-

Here I go again

cut to beginning of ?wild life? they all have scars when their final kills have been, some look tired some look determined

if you end up making this animatic if you want to put me in the credits as like 'inspired by' :3 but honestly idc that much. but you HAVE to tell me if you post one bc i will watch the hell out of that

#god i need more tags

[leviscolwill]

something in the way you put your hands on my waist ★

pairing: bsf!levi colwill x reader

req: congrats to 600 followers! 🩷 may i request number 8 with levi colwill? ("arms wrapped around your lovers neck")

note: what can i tell, i love a good cliché trope. thank u for requesting anon 🫶🏻

now playing killer by fka twigs...

of course being levi's fake date for his cousin's wedding was a terrible idea. so, of course, you accepted.

if there was any person you would follow blindly, even if they had the worst idea, that would be your best friend.

it was just a small favor after all, saving him from a stupid bet he did with his cousin back when he got engaged; if he didn't have a girlfriend to bring as his plus-one to his cousin's wedding, levi would have to give away his insta password for a whole day.

he had a couple girlfriends during that year between the engagement and the wedding, but nothing too serious, surely not anyone he could take to a family wedding. and you couldn't say no when he said there was no one he'd rather go with.

your thoughts were interrupted by levi's hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. your hands instinctively wrapped around his neck when the beat of the song got slower, the first notes to just the two of us played out and brought a smile on both your faces.

he had been dancing with you all night, very aware of how he was pretty much the only person you knew at the wedding, despite introducing you to every family member and friends, putting extra emphasis on the fact you were his girlfriend, for the night at least.

but something about this song, about the way his hands were the perfect fit for your waist. made all the laughs and small talks all around you subside, and you could somehow, in all the noise, only focus on the man standing dangerously close to you.

your giggles were levi's favourite sound, and he felt like he could die a happy man like this, making you twirl, your laugh floating in the air before your fingers found their place back to his neck, rubbing circles softly.

you knew what was going to happen next, something you found yourself daydreaming of quite often. his eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips while yours bore in his, unrelenting, silently daring him to make a move.

one of his hands left your waist to let his fingers brush against your lips ever so softly, as if he was scared to break you.

ever the pessimist one, choosing to put levi in charge of the positive side of your duo instead, you always complained about the obvious realism in your romance books whenever the main character mentioned something about feeling like you were 'the only people on earth'.

but that's how it felt, perpetual nothingness in your mind if it wasn't for levi's touch.

"can i?" his voice brought you back a bit closer to reality, although everything about it still felt like a dream.

you didn't trust yourself to speak right now, instead opting for a small nod, big enough for levi to get the green light.

his fingers tilted your face up, but he still had to bend a bit to be at the perfect distance to finally kiss you, he made you wait a couple more seconds though, scanning your face, to count every single freckle, every beauty mark, every little thing that made you, you.

and he then leaned in, connecting your lips. standing on your tippy toes desperately chasing more. your fingers slightly scratching the skin at the back of his neck, if you let go of him your knees would probably give up on you, so this only gave you more of a reason to hold on to him for dear life.

everything was better than in any of your dreams, or in any of levi's dreams for that matter. it was a kiss that left you breathless, literally. you had to push levi's chest to catch your breath seeing as he wouldn't stop anytime soon.

the small trace of common sense remaining urged you to check if anyone in attendance had an horrified look on their face at the unexpected pda, but everyone was just enjoying the wedding. the world around you didn't change one bit, but you knew this action changed the course of your relationship with your best friend.

when you looked up at him, his eyes were already on yours. you couldn't help the laugh at the smudged lipstick on levi's lips, quickly wiping it away with your thumb.

your little moment was interrupted by levi's cousin playfully slapping his back, “not gonna lie, i thought you were gonna pull a trick to get out of the bet, but it's nice meeting your girlfriend still."

[argumentl]

Kaoru Interview - Burrn! Japan Vol.23 (Feb 2024)

Interview by You Masuda

FAN TRANSLATION

(Note: This interview was held mid-way through the Phalaris Final tour)

The next person to interview was Kaoru, straight after Die. When I asked Kyo about new material going forward, he simply said, 'Ask Kaoru about that', but to be sure, if there is any member creating the blueprints for future new material, there is no doubt that its Kaoru. Of course, I'm aware that its slightly too soon to be asking such things, but I started the interview hoping to at least pick up a few hints.

ーYou are currently mid-tour, but after finishing both days at Zepp Haneda, how are you feeling about it?

Hmm. Its quite.....exhausting (lol). It consumes a lot of energy, much more than we usually use for live shows. Phalaris has a lot of power packed into it, and you really feel it bearing down on you. I'm not even trying to be that active on stage, but still....its tiring (lol)

ーBy that you mean its something different from physical tiredness?

Yeah, the tone, the content of the show, there is a heaviness to it, its something that you just can't approach half-heartedly.

ーKyo said that the songs are all hard work to sing this time. As for performing, there seems to be a lot of songs that you just can't relax through.

Yeah, its the same when playing. It really questions the type of person who is stood there playing on stage...this isnt the type of stage I can just stand around carelessly on. I mean, not that I'm like that anyway (lol). But there is something about it where I just can't express myself unless I fully throw myself into that world. It feels like a heavy weight crashing down on me for this tour.

ーThis is the third tour in the Phalaris cycle, but I get the feeling the first two rounds were not as heavy as this?

They weren't. The first round was quite tasteful, and in the second round we emphasised the 'live' element of it more, it was like a lighter version. If its too heavy from the beginning, its kinda tough on the audience too.

ーWould you say this is an album with such a heaviness that it requires this kind of considered moderation?

Yeah, but we did think we need to moderate this tour too. If for example, we were to do a single limited live show in a big venue to close Phalaris, that would be even more intense. In the shape of a tour, there are times when we are reaching our absolute limits. Thats how tough it is (lol) It didn't seem right unless each show of the tour encompassed that sense of weight and culmination.

ーIn other words you are almost right at your tipping point?

Yes. If we were to increase the intensity further, there is no doubt that the shows would collapse into chaos...which may be ok in some sense, but then we would be unable to continue touring properly.

ーYou touched on this earlier, but don't you have any plans to do a seperate finale for Phalaris in a big venue at any point?

No, we aren't thinking about that, not for now at least. It doesn't mean there is a zero percent chance, but recently there just isnt the venue availability for that kind of thing. This has been going on for a few years now. If we had been able to find a big venue before announcing the tour, then this tour wouldn't have been seen as the 'Final'. So in a sense, ending Phalaris in this way is very rooted in actuality. It probably still would have been this heavy though, even if it wasn't labeled as the final.

ーFor Uroboros, you held a finale live in Osaka jo Hall after a bit of time had passed. Is there no possibility of such a thing happening for Phalaris?

Well, I don't know. Its a timing issue. If we found the perfect venue at the perfect time, and if we were all mentally in that space....I mean, it will be easier to know as time passes, but if we are mentally for it, there may be a possibility.

ーYour answer has raised my expectations somewhat, but I'm not going to get too carried away for the time being. Have you discovered any new feelings towards this album during the current tour?

Hmm....I've been thinking its a good album (lol)

ーIts not like you to sing your own praises (lol)

Well, I mean, after this, if we realease a new single, there will probably be Phalaris-like elements to it, but even putting that to one side, so many of our past songs just fit really well alongside Phalaris. So I think we have been very true to ourselves with this album. Although it sounds a bit odd for me to say that myself (lol). I'm not entirely sure about the overall balance of the album as a piece of work, but it fits so well with our other songs, there is a mysterious feel to it.

ーFitting with your other songs may have something to do with it, but at the time you completed the album, you also said that it contains every part of Dir en grey. I'm sure you werent consciously thinking that while you were making it though.

No, I think I was at times. Of course, this isn't the end for us, but I was thinking that IF the band were to end now, I would want this to be seen as our best work. So as for consciously putting all of Dir en grey into it, no, I don't think thats wrong.

ーMaking the album with that much conscious effort means its not all new. There are links to the past, as well as that link to pull you forward onto your next step.

Yeah, and I've been feeling this even more so on the current tour. That's why I've been thinking this is a good album (lol)

ーI love hearing this kind of thing from the artists themselves. Hearing about the songs fitting well reminded me...With all these songs from Phalaris in the setlist, certain other songs might also come to mind, but to hear songs like Different Sense and Downfall in there, its like they were meant to be. That may be an odd way to describe it...

Heh, I understand. They wouldn't be out of place even if they were on Phalaris. We didn't choose to include specific types of songs while we were making it, but if you search through our past music there are some things that do just roll into place. Its probably going too far to say I was realising this when completing the album, but I feel like I can see Phalaris more clearly now. With this tour, I really do feel that sense of completion.

ーThat may be what a sense of completion actually means. You finally reach that point after realising for yourself what the flow of your past work has created.

Yes.

ーIn that sense, I think this is a very interesting outcome. But with such an intensity to the show from the outset, there is the possibilty of the audience being left behind at somepoint, if you don't get it exactly right.

Hm, I wonder. Some people might have felt that way about Phalaris 2, but this is just us being us. Its just not blowing up with excitement at the end this time, its kind of a different feeling from what we've done previously. The heaviness of the mid-section of the show is due to us being thorough, but I don't feel like its exceptional (lol)

ーAs you just said about the end of the show, closing with Kamuy is a bit different from the feeling we usually get at the end. Did you choose to play this song last, in line with bringing Phalaris to a close?

Well, it was also the first tour to play Kamuy. If we had played it at previous tours, it might have ended up in a different spot in the setlist. But for sure, to play it for the first time at the final, it could go in no other spot. Even if we were to do a seperate final in a big venue, I think it would still come at the end of the encore, not the end of the main.

ーEnding the live with the disquieting tone of Kamuy in the air, then raising the lights and bidding farewell to the audience...even with this familiar parting scene, its quite different from past tours.

With that we simply just want to say thank you to the people who came. Its a way to express thanks at the end of each show. We could just disappear off stage after Kamuy if we wanted to, but as I was saying before about 'the type of person who is stood on the stage', I want to keep this time that I have to express my thanks to the peole who come to see us. I mean, the 5 of us could all gather together in the centre for a farewell or something too, but that kind of structure somehow doesn't seem very 'us' (lol)

ー Yeah, lets save that for another occasion (lol) By the way, it must have been a difficult transition to go from finishing this phase of Phalaris, to confronting the new single 19990120.

Well, it wasnt easy. We did the 25th anniversary tour last year, so from there it was like, 'Should we do some old stuff?'. We would usually be looking at doing new material at this kinda time, but we talked about it, and what with covid and such, we thought there might be a few people out there who hadn't been to see a live show for a while. So we thought we could use some kind of tool to get more people coming back as we move forward. Not in the sense of making an album of self covers or anything, but since the 25th anniversary of our debut is in Jan 2024, we thought we might as well try something. We just wanna try out what we can, because of course there is always loads that we can't.

ーYeah. Self covers or remakes can give the impression of being backwards looking, but as we talked about how past songs have fit so well in the current tour and helped you realise how far you've come, it could be said that looking afresh at these songs from 25 years ago might be the link to future discoveries.

Whether or not this links to new things is hard to tell untill we do it, that wasn't really in my mind. But for now its more like a tool to stir up the 'Lets go and see Dir en grey again' feeling. I can say this, back in the day there were a lot of so-called heavy bands I used to go and see. I admired them and started my own band, I'm that kind of person too (lol) But I think a lot of people like that eventually start to think 'Ah, I havnt listened to that kind of music for a while', they even stop listening to music at all sometimes. Or if they do listen, its the same stuff they listened to back in the day. I wanted to strike a chord with those kind of people and get them thinking about coming to see a show. As well as letting them connect with Phalaris, its just a good starting point to get back in. So these new remakes are part of a plan, as opposed to something we just really wanted to do.

ーDir en grey have rerecored old songs in the past, but those past remakes have been more about updating old songs to match the contemporary sound of the band. Was there no such intention this time?

Its not like there was NO intention, of course, we wanted to put some of our current selves into them while making them. But we didn't want to change them outright. So in that sense, they are different from our past remakes.

ー Without trying to make any big intentional changes, you wanted the natural differences between then and now to shine through?

Yeah, that kind of thing. I think in that sense, we achieved our aim.

ー I see. I actually dug up an old interview from 25 years ago, and have been re-reading it. In it you were speaking about the background to each song and such, but Kaoru, how did you feel back then about releasing 3 songs at once for your major debut?

I though it was a great talking point, but it was hard work (lol) We had first talked about releasing two songs. So we went to LA with this idea and got to work in the studio, but then it somehow got suggested to do three songs. I honestly didn't even know how we were gonna get even two songs recorded, so I was rather skeptical that we could manage three. (lol)

ーWhat song was number 3?

That was Yurameki. We had started pre-production on all three at first, and sent them to Yoshiki. After that we chose the diametrically opposed Zan and Akuro no oka as the two songs to record. But when we went to LA, it was like, 'Ok, lets just do all three'.

ーI can hear the voice of your producer when you say that (lol). Back then, it wasn't that unusual for two songs to be released as a single at once in this category, but three had a big impact. What kind of things made a big impression on your memory back then?

Firstly, there were a lot of people around. Also, it was non-stop photoshoots and interviews. I was always writing music within this kind of bustling situation. It was really easy to lose focus of where we were heading with it all, so I tried to keep a tight hold on only that. But there were still a lot of days where I just had no idea what I was supposed to be doing.

ーYou were having like, 10 interviews at day, right? Wasn't it a bit like those artists who come to Japan for promotion, but like every day?

Yeah, even for photoshoots we would have 3 different studios booked, going here, going there, interviews in between, every time.

ーI'd like to ask about the three songs. On the new release, Yurameki is song number one. Was there any meaning behind recording them in this order?

After finishing the arangements, when we were starting the recording stage, we thought this order would be good based on how the song starts and ends. Its only for this reason.

ーI was going to ask more about the song order, but as for Yurameki, it was a bit of a curve ball for Dir en grey back in the day, wasn't it?

No, not really. We had melodious songs even then, I didn't think it was that much of a curve ball. Its Shinya's song, but he had been writIng songs during the indies era too. It was a recognition of our Shinya-esque songs.

ーAt the time, you said, 'Its a pop song, but we wanted to change up the style'. Does that mean you thought a lot about how to put it out there?

In the end, if we kept it ordinary, it would end up sounding like a totally ordinary song. I actually paid a lot of attention to parts that you wouldn't notice even if you listened to the song (lol). For example, the chord work. Yoshiki would tell me to do impossible things like, 'How about we try this?'

ーWhat do you mean by 'impossible'?

To put it simply, impossible chords and stuff. (lol) But he would say, 'Its only for the recording, so its ok, right?' So we changed our plans, and recorded all the chords one string at a time, then layered them up to make the sound. Not like playing every string simultaneously, but recording phrases one string at a time. So in the end the texture of the sound came out with more of a bang. I was spending a lot of time on those parts that no-one would probably notice.

ーIn other words, you deconstructed the song during recording.

Yes, I took advantage of the fact that they were chords that couldn't be played normally, and recorded them in a way which was unique to the studio.

ーI see. And about the songs Akuro no Oka and Zan, Yoshiki's opposite comments about both songs are in this old article. You said that for the former, he said he was concerned about the collision of sounds, and for the latter, he said 'I don't care about the collision of sounds'.

Heh, that sounds about right.

ー The collision of sounds. These are words I sometimes hear. In short, its where sounds are mixing at a place and a time where they shouldn't, right?

Yes. Maybe its because I'm a guitarist, but I tend to like adding more and more sounds and layering them up. I would suggest something like, 'I want to add this kind of phrase here', and Yoshiki would say, 'No, that gets in the way of the other sounds, change it'. So I would add something different, and he would say, 'No, thats no good either. Do you really need to add something here?'. For me it was like, 'well, I may not need to, but I want to'. It might be a guitarist thing. I say this, because Yoshiki did tell me, 'HIDE was like that, always wanting to add extra stuff in'. (lol)

ーIt must have sent shivers down your spine to hear that. In addition to this, you also said about Akuro no oka, that 'Including the guitar solo, the developments in this song are really satisfying to play'. Is it these chord progressions and such that feel pleasant to guitarists as a rule?

That is part of it. I've always felt comfortable playing this song. But when we were doing the remake, I did wonder whether I should try to go even further with it. Like, could I make it feel even more satisfying? I did actually try it, but it ended up feeling so good, it didn't line up with the original song anymore (lol). So I gave that up. It wasn't Akuro no oka anymore, it had a kind of palacial feel to it. I thought this wouldn't work (lol)

ーI feel like I also want to hear the palacial version, but we do need to preserve the foundations of the song, right? (lol) Okay, so next, the complete opposite of Akuro no oka, Zan. The song itself had been around from the beginning, and it seems like it went through many minor changes to get to where it was?

Well, because we had played it a bit live. But originally, we made it in the studio with me just telling everyone stuff like, 'Im gonna play this part like this, so you play the drums like this' etc etc. And then for the CD release, I actually remade the arrangement, so we could do it properly.

ーGenerally speaking, this is the least fitting of the three songs to be a single. Did you ever question or doubt putting this out as a single?

No, I definitely wanted to release it. So much so as to even say 'I want Zan as the first song' (lol). But it would be tough with only Zan, so thats how we came around to the idea of releasing two songs. Like, 'It has impact, but we need something with a different feel to it too'.

ーI see. It might have been a lot different if not for this decision. The three songs were recorded at the studio 'ONE ON ONE' in LA. (Note: This later became 'EXTASY STUDIO' when Yoshiki bought it, and is now in the hands of a different owner under the name '17 HERZ STUDIO'). This place was well-known for being used by Metallica, but how was it, recording overseas so suddenly?

Well, it was super luxurious. I've never had such a cushty recording experience since (lol)

ーDid you feel like, 'We made it!'?

No, I didn't. Not that long before that I had being doing home recordings, or usIng super tiny studios etc up until our indies era. So no, even being placed in that situation didn't make me feel like we'd made it. It was more like, 'Okay, what do we do now?' (lol) Being in that unfamiliar environment, there was a lot of pressure to make something lasting. We had unlimited use of equipment, but at that stage in our growth, we had limited knowledge, and undeveloped ears. So even if we heard something, we were unable to tell whether or not it really sounded good. It was me, who listened to nothing but heavy music, being told, 'Maybe this sounds better?', but then just responding, ' Nah, I just wanna make it sound more distorted'(lol) I only ever had this kind of exchange back then. But of course, my knowledge, brain, and ears were not fit for that environment. It was a bit of a waste in some sense. But it could be quite interesting if we were to do that kind of thing now. I didnt understand how the sound of a studio works back then, but if it was now, as well as having understanding, I would be able to really experiment with different things. I'd understand about mic positioning, about creating ambience, and all sorts. But back then I knew nothing. (lol)

ー Its seems almost pointless to be in that environment with such a lack of understanding and appreciation, but I think the experience itself probably meant a great deal to you, right?

Yes. I learned the importance of taking time to make something. Looking at a song from different angles, trying to dig into it in different ways. Before that things were never really much deeper than, 'Ok guys, lets make something'. I learned how to put great care into my work for the duration.

ーIts a very valuable thing to learn early on that its not all easy. Ok, so in January you will hold the FC limited live shows in Kawasaki and Osaka. You'll be in 25th debut anniversary mode in mid-Jan, right?

Well, yeah. And after that is the European tour, which will be a bit different from a regular tour. And the after that, a domestic tour entitled PSYCHONNECT. This time its 25 years since Gauze (lol).

ーIt's one anniversary after another, right?

Yeah (lol) The timing was just right to fit a tour in this Spring, and when we talked about what kind of thing to do, a Gauze themed hall tour was suggested.

ーJust to make things clear, this doesn't mean you are going to re-record the whole of Gauze, does it?

No no no (lol). If we did that people would be like, 'Enough of this already, record some new material!' (lol)

ーOf course. But at same time, I'm still kinda curious about hearing something like that.

Even if we were to do that, now isn't the time for it. People would end up thinking, 'What, are you gonna rerecord your entire catalogue??' (lol) That wouldn't be much fun.

ーYeah, interest would drop if it was nothing but rewriting history.

If I was a fan, I'd probably be thinking, 'Is this all they're doing from now on?'

ーRight. The thing we are really all waiting for is some new material after fully digesting Phalaris. Have you begun anything in that direction?

Nope, not yet (lol). I don't even know whether its ok to say this, but I haven't started yet. But actually, I was thinking about getting started today (lol).

ーYou might start writing new music straight after this interview?

Yeah, the interview just came into my schedule at exactly this time.

ーI can't wait to hear what you come up with. When I interviewed you just after the completion of Phalaris, you said that with no regular touring during covid, it had been difficult to communicate and exchange ideas with the other members. Does this mean that normality has returned to the bands' interactions. Are you able to make new music whilst interating with the other members on tour again?

Yes, we had already got back to a sense of normality by the tour before this. but now we are actually discussing next moves and stuff, and we are ready to get started. Straight after this interview, to be exact (lol).

ーLet me ask you one more thing. We touched earlier on the European tour which will be held in March. Its the first overseas tour to have past albums as a theme. What were you thinking about when deciding this?

We had originally talked about doing it in 2022 as part of the 25th anniversary run. But with the pandemic, and also trying to balance it out with the Phalaris tour, we were unable to make it happen then, so we slided it over to 2024 just as it was. People might be wondering why we are doing it at this time, but we had planned to do it from before, and now we just finally have the chance to.

ーWould you like to return to overseas touring as it used to happen previously?

Well, yeah, but its not easy. The reality is a lot different now than how it used to be. Its really not as simple as to just say, 'Let's go' now. In this case, we managed to make it work by seeing if we could do it at this particular time, but I can't be sure about future overseas tours. So to the fans in Europe, I want them to come and see us this time. Don't wait for next tme.

ーIts really interesting that the themes for this European tour are Uroboros and Withering to death. Your first ever tour of Europe was with Withering to death. These two albums have been influential in Dir en grey's overseas activities.

Yeah, we were overseas the most with those albums, and with The Marrow Of A Bone. I had thought about digging a little deeper, era-wise. Like maybe taking Vulgar overseas or something. Maybe if we have a chance in the future.

ー There are still many paths open to you. What about a Gauze world tour?

Heh, that would require a lot of motivation (lol) It would be impossible otherwise (lol)

ーWhether or not you ever manage that, there are still a lot of other things you need to do, and things you can do. I'm looking forward to seeing what kind of year 2024 is for you.

Thank you. Hopefully it won't be long before we have something new to put out.

[apomaro-mellow]

Hot for Teacher(s) 3

Part 2 / AO3 Link

After school practices for the Thanksgiving performance was only for the students who wanted to put a little more time into it. Apparently a bulk of the rehearsal happened during their music class and that made sense. Still, Steve was glad to put a face to some of the kids his son mentioned. The first night there had been a girl who's lip trembled at the slightest upset and Steve knew that had to be Yasmin.

"She's a crybaby who cries over everything", Shawn had said one time.

"Hm, need I remind you of all the times you've cried? Why I remember just last week-"

"We don't need to talk about that", Shawn said, properly chastised.

Even so, Steve could see how it could get a little frustrating to be in a class with someone as sensitive as that. And yet, Mr. Munson never let on that he was frustrated or anything like that. Every time the tears came, he talked her down. Which was quite the feat since he had probably been doing it for eight hours at this point.

"You're really good with the kids", Steve complimented when Mr. Munson took a seat near them to rest.

Third grade was working on their performance piece on the stage now while the smaller kids got a break. Mr. Munson smiled a bit as he scratched at his head.

"Yeah, well, patience is key, as I'm sure you know. Actually, how old are the kids you teach?", he asked.

"Middle school", Steve answered, laughing a little when he saw the other teacher's eyes get wide in fear.

"Braver than any marine, I swear. I will take spilt milk tears over the raging hormones going on over there."

Steve's brain decided to highlight the word 'hormones' which made him delayed in his response. He cleared his throat to try and cover it up. "It's not as bad as all that. I've got the babies of middle school, the sixth graders, but don't tell them I said that. And I'm lucky I've got a group there that's absolutely obsessed with science."

He met Mr. Munson's eyes and was met with a million watt smile. One that he knew was on his own face too.

"That's the best feeling, ain't it? When they wanna soak up as much as you can give?"

"The best", Steve agreed. It wasn't always candy and roses but it was all worth it for those days when everything just clicked. "Speaking of passions, did you get that approval for your ideas for the show?"

"They said I could play guitar, but they vetoed my pyrotechnics idea."

That night, Mr. Munson walked him and Shawn back to their car. And as such, became a routine for two days out of the week. Through it all, Steve commended himself for only drooling a little over him and only when he was alone.

At home, one Saturday, Shawn was humming his class' song while Steve made them lunch. He looked to the calendar and realized the show would be that coming Monday. Well, he knew that but it hit him that in less than a week, Thanksgiving break would start and then there wouldn't be much of a reason for him to see Mr. Munson anymore.

Just as the thought came to him, he looked at the school events calendar he had put in his phone and saw that there would be a Winter Dance but that it was for 4th and 5th grade only. He held back a sigh. Oh well, maybe if he got particularly antsy, he could schedule a confere-no, nononono.

He wasn't going to waste a teacher's time over nothing. Just because, what? He wanted to see him?

He said as much when he talked to Robin the next day. They were sitting in his living room, Shawn was up in his room, reading on this lazy Sunday.

"So, you're just going to avoid him?"

"It's not avoiding. I'm just not going to go out of my way to seek him out", Steve clarified. "And maybe this little crush", he whispered the word 'crush' like tiny ears were listening, "will die down."

"Mhm", Robin nodded, unconvinced. "You know they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?"

Steve leaned back against the couch. "There's at least one absence I'm not missing."

"...Don't tell me this is all because of him?"

"It's not because of him but...", Steve's eyes traveled to where Shawn's baby book sat on a bookshelf. Inside were the only pictures of Shawn's sire. And honestly, Steve wouldn't even have those if it were up to him. But he wanted to leave the door open just for when Shawn got older and could decide how much he wanted that man in his life.

"I don't think Mr. Munson is anything like him. Of course I don't. But I can't make a mistake like that again. If Shawn got hurt, I could never forgive myself."

Robin gave him a pat on the leg. "If you really think it's for the best."

It was. Steve knew that what was on the surface could be hiding something ugly underneath. He wasn't going to expose him or his pup to anything like that again. Mr. Munson was nice but these feelings weren't deep enough to swim in. Steve was barely getting his toes wet. He would stay high and dry and then Shawn would go on to second grade and then he would only see Mr. Munson in passing, if that.

Steve had all these affirmations in mind as he settled in to see Shawn's performance Monday. Planning ahead, Steve had told his school a couple weeks ago that he had a doctor appointment and wouldn't be coming in until later. Just long enough to pop in and see Shawn sing. As he had planned and rehearsed, Mr. Munson sat on a stool to one side of the stage, acoustic guitar in his lap.

It was all the school would allow and seeing as the kids' singing voices weren't super strong, it was for the best. Steve recorded the act, phone focused on Shawn while every once in a while, his eyes drifted to Mr. Munson.

After the song, Steve waved to Shawn, who waved back. He had told him ahead of time that he'd have to go back to work after seeing him, so that his son wouldn't be disappointed. When they saw each other at home later, Shawn's adrenaline from the day hadn't waned.

"So a lot of the other kids' parents took them home, so Mr. Munson let some of us play with his guitar!"

"Did he now?", Steve smiled.

"Uh-huh. He even taught us how to play. Do you think he teaches guitar?"

"Would you like some lessons?", Steve asked.

"Only if Mr. Munson is teaching it. He makes everything so cool."

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

Steve watched as Shawn ran ahead to go into the corn maze. Most of the corn was gone, so he wasn't worried about him getting lost as Robin went to get them hot ciders. Shawn scurried through the maze when he found someone familiar.

Robin had come back with two ciders that she and Steve sipped on while Shawn made his way through the maze.

"Dad! Look who's here!"

Steve looked up, expecting to see one of his little friends. Not Mr. Munson.

Not Mr. Munson in ripped jeans and a leather jacket.

Not Mr. Munson in ripped jeans and a leather jacket with chunky rings and his hair let loose, spilling over his shoulders.

"Dad look! It's Mr. Munson! Dad?"

"Mr. Munson! What a surprise!", Robin came in for the save while Steve was speechless. She gave him a subtle nudge that really wasn't all that subtle but that was okay because Mr. Munson was having his own crisis.

Because here was Mr. Harrington, enjoying a harvest festival, shoulder to shoulder with a beautiful alpha woman.

"H-hey, didn't expect to run into you here", Mr. Munson stuttered.

"Me neither", Steve said, voice a little breathless. He cleared it and remembered himself. "This is Robin, she's my neighbor. Robin, this is Shawn's teacher."

"Heard so much about you", Robin grinned.

Steve wanted to kick her in the shin.

"Hey, Shawn, how's about we go and pick out a pumpkin or something?", Robin suggested, grabbing his hand and pulling him away from the other two, leaving them alone.

Mr. Munson looked like a deer caught in headlights and Steve couldn't blame him.

"Jesus, she couldn't be anymore obvious."

"Did you want to talk to me about something, Mr. Harrington?"

"No, I didn't. But, I think...I think we should have this conversation anyway." Steve ran a hand through his hair.

They went to a little sitting area the farm had set up near the food booths so that they could talk. Eddie's mind ran a mile a minute, thinking of what this could be about. Both good and bad. He'd gotten a hot chocolate both to keep his hands warm and to give him something to do with said hands. Hands that Mr. Harrington was staring at right now.

"I um", he shook his head and pushed a lock of hair behind his ear. "I just wanted to-god this is hard."

"Well, let's make it easier", Eddie said. "Is it about Shawn? Is he having problems in school?"

"No, it's not about that. It's about us-I mean, there is no us but I-goddammit", Steve hissed, cheeks getting red in embarrassment. He let out a breath. "Mr. Munson, I'm having..." don't say feelings don't say feelings don't say feelings "-sensations, that aren't entirely professional. About you."

"Oh."

"And I know nothing can come of it, but I just want you to know that, to know that I'm aware of them and if I ever come on, I guess too strong, please just let me know."

"Um, for how long?", Eddie asked, hoping he wasn't vibrating in his seat because it sure did feel that way.

"Uhh, pretty much since I first met you", Mr. Harrington admitted. "And I don't know if it's because you've been looking after me and Shawn when we walk back to the car, or if it's something else but you just smell...you feel safe. And it's hard for me not too....", he trailed off, voice getting soft.

He didn't know how much that meant to Eddie. His first year of teaching, Eddie had gone on scent blockers, not wanting to overwhelm the little noses in his room. But one day he'd forgotten and things just seemed to run more smoothly when they could get a whiff of him. For Mr. Harrington to say his scent made him feel safe...

"It hasn't exactly been easy for me either", Eddie finally said. "Me too, since that first day I... But you already said nothing can come from it."

There was a hesitant look in Mr. Harrington's eyes. "Well, you know, why not?"

"Why...not?", Eddie echoed.

"I have my personal reasons for not pursuing this, but they mostly involve Shawn. If he doesn't know about it, I mean if we can hide it from most people, you won't get in trouble with the school. And we won't, you know get Shawn's hopes up if it doesn't become serious."

"Why, Mr. Harrington, are you propositioning me?" Honestly, Eddie didn't give a flying fuck what this principal thought about his private life. At the end of the day, it really was just Shawn he was worried about. He didn't know what happened to the other half of his DNA, but he knew that kids with only one parent sometimes longed for a second. He couldn't make Shawn think that was him unless this was the real deal. And he wouldn't know that for sure if he didn't give this a try.

"For starters, when we're not on school grounds, you can call me Steve."

"Eddie."

"Eddie, would you like to go out with me sometime?"

Steve's face was a mix of hopeful and confident that Eddie wouldn't be forgetting anytime soon. "I'd love to."

Part 4

There is absolutely some angst with Steve's baby daddy comin down the line. I came up with it where I come up with all my best ideas, half asleep when I wake up in the morning.

Tag Team

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @lololol-1234 @hippieg1rl420 @gregre369 @attic-cat-blog

[firefly--bright]

punctured tires and sunsets.

jean kirstein x reader, modern a.u. , roadtrip headcanons!

requested by ; @jeanscremebrulee

a/n ; this kinda just turned into an unofficial fic :') i LOVED writing it tho!! thank you so much for the request :D also! there's alot of mentions of jeans music taste in this fic so here's a playlist I made with songs I think he listens to :) I know it's too late to say this but happy jean bday day to you guys <3 he's so find I won't him so bad

warnings ; none!

taglist ; @holding-infinity-and-a-book , @mrsnobodynobody , @jeanscremebrulee , @berrijam , @hopeless-anti-romantic , @cherrypieyourface , @imgayandshesanime , @moonmalice , @kivernova , @potaho3frog , @xakilicious , @katestrophes .

main masterlist ✿ enter my taglist ! ✿

• obnoxious packer. he has ALL the snacks because he has always been used to packing alot of snacks because of...reasons (ahem, sasha) but he also packs alot in general. not in an anxious way, he just likes the volume, it makes him feel like he has everything he needs (he doesn't). he has the most useless shit in there but would 100% forget to pack his underwear.

• best believe he has a really amazing playlist lined up. he asked you to join a collab one a couple days before the trip just so you two could have premium music playing on the day of :)

• I have this headcanon/trope that none of his plans ever go right for him...like he plans stuff to the t but they always end up going awry from the midway mark and this is no exception. the plan was to reach his mother's houss by dinner time, so that the two of you + his mom could unwind with a glass of wine before going to bed after a hearty dinner that jean was sure she was planning to make for you both. while on the way to her place though, there's a really pretty beach that jean has been wanting to show you ever since the beginning, so the two of you would make a pitstop just around sunset time so that the weather wouldn't be too hot and you'd get to see the pretty sky with him, you'd spend a bit of time there, and after the sun sets, you'd resume driving. his mom's house wasn't that far from there, thankfully, so it would've taken an hour or less to reach.

• things actually are surprisingly going according to plan!! until the tire punctures and you two have to wait for help to arrive. thankfully it's only noon at this point, and jean thinks you'll still be able to make it to the beach and see the sunset after getting help. and you're also helping him maintain his cool by telling him that it's not as if you're on a time sensitive mission or anything; you two can take your time since you're just going to meet his mom for the long weekend

• it does help him quite a bit!! the road is extremely empty since it's not one that's taken often, people usually take the highway too much resulting in traffic, but this road is direct and jean discovered it his first year of college

• so you wait :) everytime jean calls the mechanic, he tells him there's been a "delay", and someone will be there shortly. meanwhile, you two share the sandwiches you had packed and decide to spend the time talking and playing some music. the sandwiches are balanced on the front of his car over a picnic blanket, along with some redbull and your prefered drink that he had packed for the way.

• he has a mouthful of sandwich when you're telling him a funny story about your childhood friends, and he chokes on the sandwich as he tries to not laugh. you have to pat his back in between laughs of your own so that he doesn't inhale the food and die.

• the playlist plays on a loop, the weather is surprisingly not too hot, with the occasional wind blowing in your face reminding you that nature isnt that cruel. the two of you add more songs and you have to surpress a smirk when you add like,,, 2000's pop songs. lady gaga, taylor Swift's older songs, Katy Perry, imagine dragons, all that

• jean, on the other hand, adds songs that he wants to slow dance with you to. everytime he tries to be romantic at home and pull you in for a dance, you two are reminded how cramped the room is, and you have to try not to step on his feet. the last time the two of you tried to dance together in your living room, he ended up stubbing his toe and falling on you because of it :') and then he tried to brush it off by saying that that was his plan from the beginning, and it resulted to a week's worth of teasing from you everytime he tried to walk near the same table

• so now that you have all of this empty space, he adds cute cheesy songs with the intention of pulling you in, disregarding your complaints of you not knowing how to dance.

• it's a nice mix of songs that make you want to twerk and/or reminisce the times the songs you added were popular, and slow dancing with giggles in between. both of you get to do what you want in the end, the playlist being put on shuffle.

• jean and you scream sing hot n cold by Katy Perry, shouting in eachother's faces as if you're an old married couple bickering, acting out the music video in some bits. and then after the song finishes, the next song just so happens to be more than a woman by the bee gees (ofcourse)

• let me set the scene : the two of you are holding your drinks in your hand, taking a sip after singing the song to eachother, laughing, he takes a sip of his redbull that he has to stop himself from wincing because of it being warm and not chilled. and then more than a woman comes on, and his eyes light up mid-sip as he turns to face you almost immediately. you do the same, you brows shooting up and a knowing look on your face.

• "you know the rules,* he says, placing the redbull on the car, taking your hand in his and pulling you in softly. "of I step on your toe, it-" " you won't. spin," he says, pulling apart from you a little so you had the space to do it. he tells you about how his mother used to play this song every Sunday while making pancakes for him on slow mornings, and she'd make a passing comment about how she'd have loved to dance to the song on her wedding day if she had the chance. jean told you that he had made a mental promise that he would dance with his future partner on his wedding day to the song, and it only added to his love for the song.

• you had to refrain yourself from kissing him senseless after he told you about it, instead opting for a hum with a wide and soft smile, resting your forehead on the crook of his shoulder.

• ANYWAY, the two of your spend the time like that, dancing and talking while the music plays in the background. the hours pass by fairly easily, munching on the snacks you had packed

• jean does get a little ansty near the 6 o clock mark. not only had the mechanic promised to be here by now, the time to reach the beach was running out :( he'd already called his mom and told her that they probably wouldnt make it in time for dinner, so somewhere deep down he kinda knew that you two wouldn't be able to catch the sunset anyway.

• noticing his disappointment, you spoke up after he called his mother. she understood, of course, told him it was fine and she'd wait up for you two anyway, with the same meal she had planned.

• "we still have the blankets we packed for the picnic. and the pillows, too." you say. jean sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "i know, I'm sorry, we had to pack that for no reas-" "no, I mean, we can pop open the trunk and set it up. the sun is going to set on this side," you say, pointing your thumb out, taking a step towards him and taking a hold of his hand, rubbing circles on the back of his palm. "we can still watch the sunset. i know its not what you wanted to show me, but it's alright, I don't mind. i got to spend time with you, anyway, and besides, we can try to catch it while coming back home." you tell him.

• his shoulder relax and his eyes soften immediately, pecking your lips and agreeing with you. and so it's settled; you two open the trunk and set up the blanket and pillows so you could sit comfortably, your phone playing the songs still, albeit softly. you pop open another energy drink for him and then one for yourself, he stretches his limbs before settling in with you.

• it's beautiful. the sun sets with your head on his shoulder and his pride is too inflated to admit that this was far prettier than watching the same scene at the beach, although he knows it's mostly because of you being there with him. he occasionally lays kisses on the crown of your head with you humming along to the songs.

• the mechanic arrives just as it starts getting dark, before too much panic settling in the both of you about the lack of light. he replaces the tire, jean pays (obviously he does), and you two continue driving. thankfully, it's not that bad, and despite the caffeine in your body, you doze home with the blanket wrapped around your shoulders and your knees pulled up to your chest.

• jean glances at you from time to time, and everytime a song he knows you'd like comes on, he gently kisses the back of your hand :)

• you two reach far later than expected, he has to wake you up softly, greeting you with a kiss. he doesn't let you touch any of the luggage, preferring to haul the bag himself. not that it's hard for him. after eating the meal his mother made, he promptly falls asleep on the couch as you and his mom talk with the promised glass of wine on the floor.

(his mother leaves to get the bottle for a refill, coming back to your eyes closed, your back against the couch, your face turned towards jean. she obviously takes a picture to put in her photo album.)

[galacticseonghwa]

Nothing Matters in Paris - Liu Yang Yang (chapter one)

INCLUDES: fem!reader x "teacher"!yang yang, swearing, age gap, yang yang is like 10 years older than he actually is, fluff, smut, angst(?), somnophilia, fingering, katoptronophilia, degrading, name-calling, cockwarming, idk if i go everything so just lmk what i've forgotten. wc: 2k a/n: please DNI if you're not comfortable with the "teacher" x student dynamic, the dynamic was explained better in the profiles post. however, as the story goes on you will understand how and why yang yang is classified as a teacher. ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER THE AGE OF TWENTY-ONE!

“good morning class, this will be my last class teaching you for the year.” our music teacher says, a smile on her face. a loud chorus of shock erupted in the class at the news.

“ten dollars she says she’s pregnant” shotaro whispers from the right of me. i nod my head agreeing. “she’s started glowing recently, i wouldn't be surprised if she is.” i say.

“i’m going to be on maternal leave from tomorrow until a few months after my little one is born,” the teacher pauses with a smile. “i have mr. qian coming in to teach you all until the stand-in teacher comes in next week.” just as she finishes her sentence mr. qian walks into the classroom.

“hi guys.” he says happily, his black hair slicked back in his usual fashion while wearing what looks like bike gear. as if he could sense my gaze, mr. qian turns his head towards me while taking off his motorbike jacket, a smile placed on his face as he reveals the tight black shirt he was wearing.

“i’m just here to sit in and see where you guys are up to.” mr. qian turns away from me as he speaks to the class. “also i would prefer if you guys called me kun. mr. qian is my father.” kun’s smile doesn’t leave his face.

before long, mrs. rivas starts the class. “we’ll be doing our group projects now, just so kun has a fair idea of what our class is about.” mrs. rivas looks through the paper on her desk quickly. “shotaro and y/n you two are up first.” her voice is soft as she looks at shotaro and i with a smile on her face.

taro and i make our way up to the front of the class and look at each other, anxiety in both of our eyes. “uh, hello.” shotaro begins awkwardly earning giggles from a few of the girls in the class. i look at taro and nod my head in reassurance. “we got this.” i whisper to him, he nods his head and takes a deep breath.

“y/n and i will be performing our favourite song, Love Wins All by IU. we hope you like it” shotaro steps back and clicks play on the backing track we had both spent time on making together. taro starts off the song, turning to me as he starts singing. i nod with a smile and give him a thumbs up.

as the pre-chorus starts coming up, i start hearing the loud beating of my heart in my ears. i’m sure shotaro senses my fear as he steps closer towards me and grips my hand in his. “you’ve got this.” taro whispers into my ear.

the next moment i open my eyes, everyone is smiling and clapping. taro throws his arm over my shoulders as he smiles widely down at me. “you did it! i’m proud of you!” he says and brings me in for a hug.

i pull away from shotaro with a shy smile and bow. “thank you.” i squeak. mrs. rivas stands up and claps with a wide smile. “you two did amazing. what are your thoughts mr. qian?” her voice is quiet as she watches kun cross his arms over his chest, a frown on his face as he studies shotaro and i.

“you two have a real talent,” he pauses as he nods. “although it would be nice to see you more confident in yourself y/n, you have the talent a lot of people would die for.” kun uncrosses his arms and claps. “good job, truly.” he smiles softly.

shotaro and i look at each other baffled. kun was never one to give out praises to students unless they were truly talented, he had a knick for picking out the next big name. shotaro bows instantaneously as we begin walking towards our seats.

kun was quick to wave us off with a smile and a small shake of his head. “did kun just complement us, specifically you though?” shotaro stares at me wide-eyed, the laugh that escaped my lips was quiet as i coo and squish his cheeks.

“you’re so cute, i just want to eat you.” i giggle, shotaro frown with a scoff and swats my hands away from his face.

“i’m anything but cute!” he defends himself. i nod tauntingly and watch as shotaro scoffs again and sits back in his chair while crossing his arms across his chest. “i’m not talking to you for the rest of the day.” shotaro states and turns his back towards me.

i laugh wholeheartedly at his outburst and poke his side, he jolts and almost falls off his chair. “don’t do that, i’m mad at you” he whispers harshly. “uh-huh.” i drawl out and watch as he side eyes me before turning back around in his chair.

“how old are you again, taro?”

shotaro says nothing but gives me his middle finger. “you know damn well, we’re the oldest people in this class other than the teachers.” shotaro says.

“it’s not our fault our gap year turned into a four-year-long gap year.” i shrug with a laugh. shotaro and i vowed to have a gap year after graduating high school and then going straight to uni, but then somehow one year turned into four before we decided to put our plan into effect.

feeling a very demanding gaze on me, i look towards the front and see kun staring at me. kun does nothing but raise his eyebrows as i look at him, there was something in his gaze that made me believe he knew something that i didn’t.

“why’s he staring at you like that?” shotaro whispers to me as he brings his chair as close to me as he can. seeing this, kun coughs awkwardly and looks away from me. i turn to shotaro and frown at him. “i don’t know, but it looks like he knows something i don’t” i mumble.

“well no shit, he’s a teacher. he’s bound to know something you don’t.” shotaro rolls his eyes dramatically. i smack his arm, earning an ‘ow’ mumbled from him. “you know that’s not what i meant.” 

“i mean, he knows something about me or something that’s about to happen to me that i don’t” shotaro looks at me, i can see the gears turn in his head while he tries to think of something. “i could be wrong but maybe you’ve caught the eye of a friend of his.” he shrugs, my mouth hangs open before the loudest laugh escapes my mouth.

“want to share with the class what you find so funny, y/n?” kun asks, a frown on his face as he steps behind the teacher's desk and leans forward to place both his hands on the edge closest to him.

i try my hardest to stifle my laugh, but fail miserably as i look at kun. “no, i’m sorry.” i cough to stop myself from laughing anymore. kun raises his eyebrows and clears his throat. “very well then, pay attention.” he points towards mrs. rivas.

the rest of the class drones on as group after group performs their projects for mrs. rivas and kun. the bell for lunch finally rings, shotaro and i look at each other and nod. shotaro bolts out of his chair and all but sprints out of the classroom.

i giggle to myself as i watch. taking my time collecting my own and shotaro’s stuff, i notice i was one of the last students to exit the classroom. “y/n” kun calls for me as i pick up shotaro’s laptop and place it into my arms.

i turn to kun and wait for him as he walks up the class steps towards me. “yes?” 

kun stops in front of me and looks me over with something hidden behind his eyes. “have you ever thought about getting a vocal coach?” his voice was low as he crossed his arms and leans his hip onto the desk next to us.

my mouth drops open before his eyes widen. “wait i didn’t mean it like that!” he raises his hands in defence. “i meant it as in for your performance anxiety, you seem to really struggle with it.” he says quietly.

“oh, uh. i’ve thought about it before, but never thought it would be a good idea.” my face turns hot as i turn away from kun’s intense gaze.

“why do you think it wouldn’t be a good idea?” he asks, sounding genuinely curious. ���i don’t know, i guess the shame i’d feel explaining to someone that i struggle to sing in front of people who isn’t shotaro.” i say with a shrug.

kun nods, a hum leaves his throat. “well i happen to know someone who could help you if you would like that is,” he pauses and uncrosses his arms. “just let me know by the end of class on friday, then i can give you his details.” kun finishes.

“thank you kun, i’ll let you know.” i smile, kun nods with a soft smile as i walk away to go find shotaro. 

i find shotaro sitting at our usual spot in the library, typing away on his phone angrily. “why’re you grumpy?” i ask and sit down next to him. shotaro lifts his head with a deep frown before it disappears when he sees me.

shotaro quickly pulls his bag from my hands and opens it to throw out all sorts of snacks, including sandwiches. “some loser is trying to doxx me on discord.” he says with a roll of his eyes.

shotaro places chocolate milk in front of me as well as one of those cream and strawberry sandwiches that his mum makes and that i am in love with. “i could kiss you on the lips right now.” i say and dig straight into the sandwich in front of me.

“do it then, you’re all bark no bite.” shotaro rolls his eyes comically and shakes his head. i squint my eyes at him as i contemplate on whether i should or not.

deciding there’s nothing to lose, i grip shotaro’s face in my hands and place a soft kiss on his lips. when i pull away, shotaro’s staring at me with the widest eyes i have ever seen on anyone. his eyes narrow before he slides his own cream and strawberry sandwich towards me.

i laugh at this and watch as shotaro puckers his lips and moves towards me. i push his face away from me and giggle as he huffs dramatically. “fine” he says and pouts at me. 

“kun asked me if i wanted a vocal coach.” i say to shotaro as i take a bite of the cream and strawberry sandwich. shotaro stops mid-bite then his eyes dart towards me. “he said it could help me with my performance anxiety. i’m thinking of saying yes.”

“well if it could benefit you, i don’t see why you don’t say yes.” he nods at me.

“that’s what i’ve been thinking, he says it’ll be someone he knows.” shotaro chokes on his drink, he laughs wildly at this.

“i told you! i bet you that the friend he’s referring to is the one you caught the eye of!” shotaro laughs harder. i roll my eyes. “him and his friends would all be out of my age range.” it was shotaro’s turn to roll his eyes.

“it’s probably a younger friend, and that age range of yours doesn't stop you from drooling over hyde, which need i remind you is my uncle.” shotaro points a finger at me.

“okay but that’s different!” i say defensively. “he’s a celebrity!”.

shotaro looks at me knowingly. “you saw him on the weekend when you came to my family’s countryside house, he’s just about as normal as you and i” shotaro states matter of factly. “yeah, well-” shotaro cuts me off by shoving a strawberry into my mouth.

“it’s not different, you two know each other personally.” he shakes his head with a laugh. “anyway, i think you should say yes to kun. it’ll be good for you.” i nod as i think about it, having a vocal coach to help me overcome my performance anxiety would be really good.

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this chapter was VERY rushed so 90% of it won't really make sense, as the series goes on the chapters will get better i promise.

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Shadow and Song (Azriel x Reader) Part Three

Azriel x Reader

You and your sisters ready yourselves for the visit from the Mortal Queens, and the possibility of war.

Word Count: 2,707

You sighed, fingers slowing hovering over the piano, attempting to find a good note to start on. You had been at the instrument for a good twenty minutes, attempting to get some form of peace of mind, away from the bickering between Cassian and Nesta in the other room.

You were wasting your time.

You weren't able to play, weren't able to think. And you were exhausted. Nightmares plagued your sleep last night, visions of battlefields and cruel Fae. After the first dream of Feyre being slaughtered, head cut clean from her body, you tossed and turned for the rest of the night, refusing to close your eyes, scared to see the blood dripping from her neck, the lifeless eyes as her head rolled on the ground.

War, war, war. It had plagued your mind, unable to think of anything else. What would happen if the Queens wouldn't give their half of the book, if they had to fight. What would happen to them, of Feyre?

It made you sick, unable to eat the pastries laid across the table for breakfast. Rather, you drank your tea, the caffeine fueling your anxiety as Nesta picked fights with Cassian, the latter eager to push her buttons. It had become all too much, muttering a quick "excuse me" before speeding out of the room.

You struck a chord, deep and powerful on the piano, before groaning and slamming the cover shut. It was wrong, all of it was wrong.

"Are you alright?"

Azriel's voice, although quiet and calm, startled you, causing you to jump up from your chair. You turned to face him, and smoothed out your dress, a deep midnight blue.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, no, it's fine-- I'm fine." You muttered.

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright, you left the table rather... abruptly." His hazel eyes stared at you, melting pools of honey meeting your own.

Are you alright? It was the first time someone had asked you that in over a year.

"Just too tired to hear Nesta arguing at eight in the morning." You dismissed with a tight lipped smile that didn't reach your eyes, that hadn't reached them in a long time, not since Feyre left.

Azriel stared at you, the Spymaster, Rhysand had called him last night, as if he expected you to say more, as if he knew there was something else bothering you.

And he did, although not to your knowledge. He had heard your panting in the middle of the night as you woke from your nightmare, heard your pacing in your bedroom, heard the ruffle of your duvet as you tossed and turned. He had even sent his shadows out to do a quick assessment of the manor, ensuring that there was no intruder. There wasn't, the shadows confirmed, only reporting you awake down the hall.

He stood for a moment, and took note of your body language, your tapping foot, hands fiddling with the white ribbon that held your hair into a braid. And he wondered if you were scared of him.

No, there was more behind it. He could smell it, fear, yes, but it was almost undetectable under the scent of anxiety.

"I understand that it all can be... overwhelming, the change in Feyre, having Fae in your home."

"It's not that," You sighed, and there was a long pause before you spoke your next words. "I know that Feyre wouldn't put us in harms way. I'm more worried of the Queens, the war... what will happen if they don't give you this-- book you speak of."

"You know that we would protect you, no harm would come to you and your sisters."

"It's not just us," You paused, "There are others here, other's that won't be protected like we will. We have good people here. And there are those who will fight, they will die as well."

Azriel was silent as he struggled to find his next words, struggled to find the right way to tell you that he would do anything to prevent the war, to spare you from the pain of it. How would he tell you that there was in instinct, deep in his bones, screaming at him to do anything, kill anyone, to keep you safe.

How would he tell you that without revealing his suspicions of what you were from the moment he laid his eyes on you?

"There you are." Rhysand's soft voice purred from the doorway of the room. "I see you've escaped the loveliness of tea with Cassian and Nesta."

______________________________________________________________

It had been weeks since you and your sister's mailed the letter to the Queens, with Rhysand and Feyre trailing behind, glamoured to be invisible to the people of your village, weeks, still with no response.

There had been many additional letters sent after the first as well, Rhysand often sending Azriel to the manor, letter pressed into your hand before he was gone without another word. You had mailed them, trekking through the snowy village after each visit, the cold biting into your bones.

But as the weeks passed, the ice began to thaw and winter turned to spring. Still with no response, it seemed that war was something that could not be avoided.

You focused on your books, having learned to read shortly after your family was brought back to wealth. Assigning you a tutor was one of the first tasks Nesta had accomplished after the move into the manor, important for an "eligible lady" to be educated she said.

You were a quick learner, however, and lost the need for a tutor about six months later. When you weren't playing your piano you were studying, reading anything between languages and literature, stealing some of Nesta's romance novels from time to time.

But lately all you had been reading was history, specifically about the War from 500 years ago. You read of the most of the battles, the alliances, the losses.

The battle illustrations on the pages did nothing to ease your nightmares.

______________________________________________________________

You shifted your weight uncomfortably in the formal living room, staring down at your periwinkle slippers, perfectly matching your gown detailed with beads and lace. Only the finest gowns to meet the Queens.

The room was in silence, a roaring, uncomfortable, unbearable silence.

Feyre, Rhysand, and his cousin, Morrigan stood expectedly near the fireplace, Azriel and Cassian guarding the back wall behind you, Nesta, and Elain.

You furrowed your eyebrows together, worry taking over your features. It was almost eleven, and the Queen's weren't here. What if they didn't come at all?

You had spent the entire day prior mapping out the house for them with Azriel, giving them the exact geographical location of the home. You mapped out the size and layout of each room, where each piece of furniture stood, where the windows and doors were. You wouldn't have been surprised if they had asked where each painting hung on the walls. Would they have made you go through all that trouble to not bother to show?

You shot a worried glance behind you to Azriel, who held your gaze, a calm look on his face, as if he was silently telling you that it would be alright.

The chiming of the clock sounded deafening against the silence of the room.

Wind brushed through the room, like a cool, gentle breeze from late autumn. And before you five figures appeared, and ten guards along with them.

You willed you face into stone as you stared before you, trying your best not to reveal your rapid breathing, the thrumming of your heart against your ribs, as the Queen's winnowed in.

They were all of different age, skin color, and hight. There were two middle aged queens, dressed as opposites, one in black and the other white. There were two younger queens, one looking to be the same age as Nesta, with black hair and black eyes, a cutting cool to Nesta's flames. The eldest of them had sharp and cold eyes, wrinkles pressing deep into her brown skin. And last there was the most beautiful of them all, with golden hair, golden eyes, and golden freckles.

It was she who spoke first, and you were unable to register her words in your shock.

"Well met," Rhysand stated, not moving an inch.

The guards inspected everyone carefully before splitting into position around the room. Nesta gently nudged you back as they flanked the room, and you slinked into the wall beside Azriel, Nesta and Elain on your other side.

Rhys stepped forward and the Queens silently gasped, their guards bracing themselves, hands reaching for their swords. You shrinked further into the wall, arm brushing against Azriel's.

You didn't dare look up at him.

"We are grateful you accepted our invitation." Rhys bowed slightly. "Where is the sixth?"

"She is unwell, and could not make the journey." The ancient queen spoke uncaringly, her eyes shifted to Feyre. "You are the emissary."

Feyre stood up straighter, held her chin up. "Yes, I am Feyre."

The queen merely dismissed her, looking back to Rhysand. "And you are the High Lord who wrote such an interesting letter after your first few were dispatched."

You looked back down at your shoes.

"I am," Rhysand replied. "And this is my cousin, Morrigan."

Morrigan, or Mor, she told you to call her earlier, was beautiful in every way, a strong, true beauty. Her red gown matched the paint on her lips, and her soft brown eyes were lined with kohl. Her golden hair fell into ringlets down her back, and she moved with grace as she walked closer to the queens and bowed.

"It has been a long time since I met with a mortal queen."

How long did it take for Fae to consider time long?

"Morrigan--the Morrigan from the War." The queen spoke, her voice a mix of awe and fear.

That long.

Mor bowed again. "Please, sit." And the Queens obeyed.

The beautiful queen sent a cutting look to you and your sisters. "I assume those are our hosts."

The attention of the room shifted to you, and you stood still, silent, hoping that your fear wasn't written all over your face. Nesta did the same as Elain curtseyed.

"My sisters," Feyre spoke.

The queen's eyes cut back into her sharply. "An emissary wears a golden crown. Is that a tradition in Prythian?"

"No," Rhysand purred, "but she certainly looks good enough in one that I can't resist."

The golden queen ignored him. "A human turned into a High Fae... and who is now standing beside a High Lord at the place of honor. Interesting."

As if it was Feyre's choice.

The eldest was the next to speak, " You have an hour of our time. Make it count."

"How is it that you can winnow?" Mor asked.

The golden queen smirked. "It is our secret, and a gift from your kind."

There was a moment of silence before Feyre spoke again, "War is coming. We called you here to warn you-- and to beg a boon."

You flexed your fingers and took a deep breath. It was coming, no longer a threat, no longer something that could be evaded.

"We know war is coming." The eldest stated. "We've been preparing for many years."

We knew it was coming.

The words rang in your ears. It certainly didn't seem like that. The biggest preparation for war you had seen was Lord Grayson's hunting of Faeries, the walls built around his home.

Feyre spoke your thoughts. "The humans in this territory seem unaware of a larger threat. We've seen no signs of preparation."

"This territory," The golden queen's voice was ice, "is a slip of land compared to the vastness of the continent. It is not in our interests to defend it. It would be a waste of our resources."

You couldn't breathe.

"Surely the loss of even one innocent life would be abhorrent." Rhysand questioned.

"Yes." The eldest queen croned. "To lose one life is always a horror. But war is war. If we must sacrifice this tiny territory to save the majority, then we shall do it."

You felt like you were going to vomit. You felt Azriel's eyes on you, but you were too frozen to look up at him, too scared to move.

A sacrifice. You and your sisters, and your servants, and anyone on this land were just a sacrifice to them.

"There are good people here." Feyre rasped.

"Then let the High Fae of Prythian defend them." The golden queen mocked.

You felt Nesta shaking beside you, burning hot anger radiating from her body. "We have servants here. With families. There are children in these lands. And you mean to leave us all in the hands of the Fae?"

The eldest queen looked at the three of us, face filled with what seemed to be sympathy, or guilt. "It is no easy choice, girl--"

"It is the choice of cowards," Nesta sneered.

"For all that your kind hates ours," Feyre interrupted, "You'd leave the Fae to defend your people?"

"Shouldn't they?" The golden one asked, tilting her head. "Shouldn't they defend against a threat of their own making? Should Fae blood not be spilled for their crimes over the years?"

"Neither side is innocent," Rhys spoke calmly, "But we might protect those who are. Together."

You were breathing heavily, shallow, short breaths, the conversation in the room drowning out from your ears.

Together. Together, Rhys had hoped, had pleaded with the Queens. The queens who knew of war for years, did nothing to prepare your lands, to evacuate the innocent people who lived there.

And now it was too late, too late to evacuate, too late to escape. They had left you here to die.

Prythian, Rhysand said the first night you had met him. "If you ever visited Prythian," Would that be your only option to escape death, to possibly meet it in another land? One in which you were completely defenseless? A land in which some Fae would take pleasure in hunting you down? And what of Nesta? And Elain? You couldn't leave without them. You had already lost Feyre.

You had never gotten along with your two older sisters well, when there was nothing but anger, and pain, and sorrow locked away in that cabin. It was empty, and cold, and though you and your sisters never said it aloud, it was hopeless, so hopeless. You knew, knew that you were all going to rot in that cabin.

The hopelessness had filled almost every part of your being, had almost consumed you whole. The only thing that had kept it from eating you alive was Feyre at the end of the day, asking you to play a song for her. The gentle smile that would lay upon her face when you would bring her home charcoal, or paints, bought with any money you could spare from work.

And you knew that for Nesta, it was anger. Deep, overwhelming rage that devoured her entire being. Pure spite was what kept her alive. And Elain to her was what Feyre was to you. The light through the flames. The small shred of hope in the darkness.

Yes, Nesta still burned, but you two had a quiet understanding, you knew why the fire had burned. It kept her alive, kept her human.

You couldn't hate her for that.

And Elain wasn't ignorant to the pain around her, but she was ignorant to her circumstances. And it had aggravated you to no end. But after Feyre left you understood. Elain was in her own world, escaping the sorrow around her, something you wished you had the ability to do for the past year.

And after Feyre left, since your father's fortune was found, the three of you had a new understanding of each other, a new love for one another. It was a quiet love, and was never spoken of. The love that was felt when you read in the garden while Elain tended to the flowers, was felt when you would play the piano, Nesta silently reading her book on the sofa behind you. The love only a sister could understand.

No, you could not leave them behind. You would stay if that was what they wished to do, and if it came to it, you would die with them as well.

______________________________________________________________

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