#Melodics cost

[thoughtswordsaction]

Zero Cost - Mouths To Feed CD EP (Engineer Records)

Zero Cost‘s new EP, Mouths To Feed, offers a compelling journey through the passionate landscape of modern melodic punk rock. Released under Engineer Records, this EP solidifies Zero Cost’s place in the contemporary punk scene while paying homage to the genre’s roots. With influences ranging from classic skate punk bands like Bad Religion, Pulley, NOFX, and The Descendents, Zero Cost has crafted…

[yzzart]

I KNOW, MY EYES ALREADY LOVE YOU ── KENJI SATO

── summary: What could be Kenji Sato's certainty and weakness?

── content warnings: F!reader, 18+, nsfw, morning sex, unprotected, riding, playing w/ nipples, dirty talk, praise, petnames, kenji being a fucking tease, explicit words, explicit content.

── word count: 1.798!

Kenji did not know, or did he understand, some certainties about his life, and, perhaps, it could sound like imprudence, the purest act of negligence he had the opportunity to tolerate; in fact, it was obvious. — He believed in this line of consciousness, attempted reasoning.

He declared that he made mistakes, countless mistakes, and, currently, he still thinks about the hypothesis that he could make them to this day; even though he wanted to, and tried, as much as possible, not to reveal what he believed to the cameras, journalists and specific people around him. — Sato wouldn't stand it, he knew that.

However, resonating with a merciless and sweet irony, seeming such a surprising incongruity, Kenji was, he knew, certain about one thing in his existence, something that he would not dare lie, deceive himself or dissemble; he imagined he might die if he did that. — His chest burned, sharply, just thinking about it.

You were one of Sato's weaknesses; in his view, the only one. — At the same time, it was his strength; knowing that, you can destabilize him, with ease and incomplexity, conceiving a change in his concentration and everything around, just by directing your eyes against his would be able to be seen as ridiculous and playing a vulnerable side and stealing his attention was peculiar. — Something incredibly curious.

But in Sato's eyes, it was a form, way of how to worship you; being able to feel a passion, intensely, disoriented and burning in his heart. — Admitting something so angelic and serene. — Not hiding the fact that you were his refuge, a place where he felt safe and loved and knew that it would protect him at all costs in his life; experiencing being worthy of you.

And every morning, every second and minute of it, at dawn next to you, with his body entwined with yours, Kenji thought about it.

"A kiss for your thoughts?" — A sleepy, so sweet voice exclaims in the boy's ears, spontaneously bringing a cunning smile to his lips; Kenji loved your humor, even during the early morning. — "What do you think?" — Even with the huge cuts in the windows, showing weak and soft bands of light, you refused to open your eyes at that moment, yawning.

"That's a very good proposal, should i accept it?" — He asked, looking down at your leg, which was in the region of his hips, and felt, deliciously, you pressing yourself against him; Sato's smile grew even wider due to the fact that you only had the blanket stuck to your bodies. — "Good morning to you too, kitten."

He considered some sleepy, boring mumbles and grunts that came out of your mouth as a response, and found it adorable; bringing his lips to your forehead, kissing it, while stroking your hair. — Taking care of his girl with delicacy and gentleness. — And more melodic hums were made by you.

You couldn't stop that familiar and delightful tingling between your legs, and soon you was clumsily rubbing yourself against Kenji's hips, — who didn't fail to find your morning boner fascinating and hungry — without a hint of shame.

"I see someone…" — A sensual laugh vibrated in your temple. — "…woke up very well." — He added, feeling a lump in his throat, unable to contain his shaky breath. — "No?" — Your hand snaked over Kenji's athletic chest, a line of coldness crossed his skin, caused by the ring you had on your finger; your engagement ring.

Not knowing how to resist, and never could, your movements, the painful, throbbing sensation began to burn, sharply, Kenji's dick, showing the large bulge developed in the blanket; he was already starting to feel needier than usual, wanting to fit his face into your neck and dive into your pussy.

Just thinking about being inside you makes Sato's breathing become a panting mess, not wanting or admitting to waste another second.

"I always wake up right next to you, Kenji." — You replied, lifting your head, directing your lips to the eldest's shoulder, trailing kisses across his skin; showing affection. — "Always." — The little kisses went up to his collarbone, your warm hands remained on his chest.

During the small movement between the sheets, caused by you, part of your boobs were exposed and shivering as they hit Kenji's skin; he didn't wait and anxiously felt the beak of one of them, squeezing it with a certain and frank force. — Drawing a sigh from you and making the player bite his lip, like prey. — The damn man liked doing that.

Sato was, indisputably, diabolical, the most arrogant and delighting provocation to ever stand before you.

“Come here, come.” — He asked in a whisper, cunning and with eyes clouded with desire, looking at every point of your face and eyes, running his tongue over his lips, leaving them wet and, faintly, shiny; waiting to be responded to, which didn't take long. — "Pretty girl."

Yours lips, eagerly, came together in a sinful, appetizing and wet kiss; Kenji's sharp tongue rubbed and caressed your, wanting to taste your mouth, as if it were the first time. — Sometimes causing a shock of contact between your teeth and his, nothing could stop you. — Moans, coming from you, delighting in his mouth, were muffled and made Sato smile bewildered.

Kenji felt, even so apprehensive and focused on your mouth, his body being touched, covered by your hands, and, lightly, your nails scraped his skin, desperate to touch him. — He couldn't help but find it cute and naive the way your hand moved to the back of his neck, shocking your bodies even more. — Feeling himself throbbing more and more.

You would be the death of Kenji Sato. — That was another certainty that covered his mind.

Moaning during the mediocre fraction of a second in which your lips disconnected, feeling an emptiness, you came across thin and fragile strands of spit slowly breaking and you vibrated when you heard Sato's smug laugh; his eyes surrounded your mouth, wanting it again. — He smiled, forming a pretentious and ambitious expression as he brought his thumb to your chin, holding it.

"Ride me like a good girl," — Sato clicks his tongue, incoherent. — "my good girl." — Aa words, referring with a hint of possessiveness and premise, made your pussy throb with exultation. — "Please, huh?" — Your lover pouted, almost sounding mocking but not hiding the need he burned for you.

He didn't need to say it twice, he knew there would be no need, even though he saw some clouds of pleasure, leaving you completely at the mercy of the excitement, leaving you beautiful head. — And, also, it wasn't long before your legs were around Kenji's hips, grabbing them with the limited strength you had; abandoning the silky, white sheet somewhere on the mattress.

Settling down, adjusting his posture on the soft, padded pillow, hoping for a good view, Kenji couldn't help but adore the image before his eyes; you were deliciously mounted on him and comfortable on his lap, in your honored place and feeling deified. — It seemed like an inexplicable, surreal and reprehensible scene, it could be the taste of the paradise they prophesied. — No, you were Sato's own, true and only paradise.

Your body surrendered to him, precise movements, with a moderate, almost weak strength and still clouded with sleep, against the young prodigy's hips, feeling his entire length sink, preciously, into your sticky and hot walls; never getting used to the way you was filled by Kenji, — and, wanting, dirty, at no point to get used to it. — leaving you more stimulated. — When you felt him completely, your lips opened, moaning harmoniously and delightfully, attracting panting sighs in the name of your lover.

And, with your boobs, delicious and juicy boobs, exposed, wide open, which, according to your movements, swayed and shivered in front of Kenji, wanting to devour them with desire and modesty. — And not tolerating losing the delicious vision, he preferred to remain where he was; but, he didn't hesitate in sliding his hand towards one of them and squeezing it, now, tightly.

"Ken..ji." — You moaned, whimpered, moving your hand towards his, which held your nipple, unbearably, sensitive with his calloused fingers. — "Fuck-k!" — You sobbed, threatening to release tears from feeling all that pleasurable pressure in your system; and, feeling the lack of sustenance, with the other hand, you moved across Kenji's chest. — "Ken, Kenji..."

"Is it good, my love?" — He says, removing his hand from your boob and repositioning it on your waist, guiding your movements, noticing your almost exhausted rhythm, poor thing. — "Fucking good, huh?" — He growled when he noticed a sudden tightness in his cock; your pussy choked and sucked him, divinely, well. — "O-oh, look what we have here." — He laughed, digging his short nails into your flesh.

The sharp, thin lamentations and melodic moans vociferated in Sato's ears sounded like masterful music, stirring him with every descent and ascent that you made in his lap; also mentioning the wet, filthy melody that your pussy made while swallowing his cock. — Such a greedy, hungry, desperate little thing for every inch of him.

"Keep it up, kitten." — He swore, quickly guiding your hips and showed a satisfied and happy smile when he saw that you responded to his orders, winking shamelessly in your direction. — "I love filling this pussy, fuck…" — He breathed deeply, shaking with another grip on his dick. — "with my cum in the morning." — Listening to Kenji's filthy words was a sin.

It was blasphemous, unacceptable to be able to tolerate, endure, for so long, all that excitement, — all that infernal provocation coming from your man — and adequately endure the stings that reached, perfectly, your sensitive and delicate spot, which only Kenji knew how to reach. — And he took advantage of that.

With incandescent, burning pleasure replacing all sensations, reactions of your body, finally, that nervous, tingling thread, trapped in your stomach, breaks free; accompanied by a tearful and disoriented scream, crying out for Sato, coming out of your mouth. — Cumming on his cock, having some spasms around it, you feel weak, about to become weak. — Like a pathetic little doll.

"Baby." — Hot, delicious jets of sperm painted your inner walls, taking him to the limit, as always; cumming inside you, Kenji filled you, leaving you satisfied, sated and fulfilled. — Having the impression that, still sitting on his lap, you was leaking yours mixed releases, causing an appetizing mess. — "Holy shit." — Ken moaned softly, smiling bewildered and drunk for you.

Tilting your head to the side, merely acting in a naive and harmless way, still with a look of tiredness and exhaustion, a thin and innocent smile tugged at the corner of your lips; making you even more adorable, captivating.

"Good morning to you too, Ken."

Yeah, in fact, you were Kenji Sato's main weakness.

[princessbrunette]

all of a sudden, jj suddenly felt severely underdressed in his black muscle tank and cargo shorts. it’s not that he hadn’t been in a strip club before, he’d just never come to see pogue!bunny!reader at her place of work.

you’d left your shoes at the chateau after one of the many infamous pogue parties that you’d been invited to. if it were any other kind of cheap shoes, you’d probably just said forget about it. but for some bizarre reason, you’d worn some of your prettiest shoes that cost you an arm and a leg from the bills thrown your way at the club, so you’d been damned if you let those just get tossed in the trash because guys don’t know the value of things.

jj had actually used it as an excuse to slide into your instagram dms. shooting you a super casual ‘hey, left your shoes at the chateau. want em back?’ to which you responded ‘my hero!!!! <3’ and so on. anyway, the agreement was — he’d bring your shoes to you on your break.

it’s not as grimy on the inside as it is on the outside, but he doesn’t have much time to look around before he’s hearing the slapping of bare feet through the hallway — and suddenly a scantily dressed figure is throwing itself into his arms in the dimly lit space.

“holy— jesus christ.” he catches you anyway, though you can tell he doesn’t know where to put his hands, settling on the fat just beneath your ass. he swore you were put on this earth to tempt him.

“you came!” you smile in that melodic voice, unhardened by your surroundings. hell, he nearly did come.

“well, you called.” he shrugs, trying to be all nonchalant about it. he swings the shiny pink heels around his fingers and you squeal, taking them from him. “yeah— so, uh— if that’s all i could probably just see myself ou—” he juts a thumb towards the exit, going to stuff one hand in his pocket and missing all together as he backs away. he wasn’t sure why he was being so awkward, aside from the fact you were just stood infront of him wearing a tiny little triangle bra and a g string.

“stay!” your brows furrow adorably and it physically pains his chest, infact — he’s pretty sure he had a physical reaction, face screwing up with a wince. how does one tell the girl he’s attracted to that if he stays any longer he will pop a hard on? “s’the least i can do. come watch the show. i can hook you up with wings and some beers for free?” you bat your faux-lashes, the glitter on your cheekbone glowing in the low lighting as you tilt your head sweetly, putting on a show to convince him.

“wings, beer n’ boobs? you’re talkin’ my language young lady.” he smirks, unable to hide his usual ways and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“yay, follow me!” you grip his hand, long acrylics scratching against his wrist and he rolls his lips together, eyes practically following each jiggle of your ass cheek as you walk before he even realises he’s in the main section. you settle him in, a little booth that usually probably occupies pervy businessmen— which really makes the blonde feel out of place. he came alone, and now he was sat here — occupying a booth. what kind of creep comes to watch strippers alone?

he’s about to jump up and make up an excuse to leave in pure embarrassment, but you’re smoothing your hands along his shoulders, batting your lashes and telling him you wish you could stay and chat but you’ve gotta go dance, and that his wings and beer will be coming soon. he blinks at you, under a trance and settles into the worn and suspiciously sticky leather arm chair.

soon you’re up on that stage and he wants to sink into the fucking ground. you’re unbelievably hot, and now it’s like something out of a porno he made in his mind, watching you saunter around the pole, dropping down to the ground and arching your back, shaking the meat of your ass effortlessly as faceless men throw money your way. he had nothing to throw but some receipts and old nickels in his pockets and he didn’t think you’d appreciate that — which didn’t matter anyway, because he was somewhat stuck to his seat.

he lifts his hands to adjust his cap before realising he’s not wearing one, and just as he realises his dick is sitting hot, heavy and hard in his shorts— you’re off stage, bounding over with everything jiggling. lord help him.

he thinks he might die when you clamber confidently onto his lap, straddling him front on.

“so how was it jayj did you like it? i know it’s a lil’ weird seeing me up there, i’m your friend n’all but was the song choice good atleast?” you tilt your head like a befuddled puppy dog before wriggling around— crotch to cock. “oh, nevermind. i can feel that you’re like super hard so i take it that you liked the show!” you smile, like you’d just said the most innocent sentence in the world. jj blinks, lips agape.

“uh— y—no, yeah it was… well, y’know. the body doesn’t lie.” he bucks his hips lightly in gesture before immediately internally questioning why he’d do something so creepy. luckily, you giggle — but he’s not sure if it’s because you liked it or because you’re well trained.

“well, next time you get paid come get a lapdance i’ll fix that problem jayj, even give you a discount.” you let that giggle slip through again, but there’s a breathiness to your tone that feels all too real. his brows jump up, eyes flickering unashamedly to your tits as you lean forward to his ear. “or jus’ get me drunk again next weekend? will probably do it for free ‘cus i like you.” you admit, looking all nervous when you pull back. you just shook your ass on stage, yet jj maybank was making you flustered.

“for sure. yeah uh— can… can definitely do that. yep.” he plays it calm and collected, sees you out with another bone crushing hug against your tits before speed walking to his company truck that he drove over here. his shift was over, so he wasn’t rushing to get back to work. moreso to beat off in the parking lot thinking about pulling that g-string of yours to the side.

[fancyfeathers]

Just Like Rosemary

(Yandere William James Moriarty x Ballerina Reader) (feat. Platonic Yandere Louis James Moriarty and Albert James Moriarty)

inspired by this post about Williams with a historically accurate ballerina darling which was inspired by @yandere-wishes

A bit of background, during the 19th century, the ballet world, including the esteemed Paris Opera, operated under a disturbing norm of sexual exploitation. The company essentially functioned as a brothel, exploiting the vulnerability of impoverished young girls who aspired to become ballerinas. Malnourished and lacking support, these girls were often coerced into relationships with wealthy patrons, their only perceived avenue to a better life. These affluent men wielded their power to objectify and proposition the ballerinas both on and offstage, effectively creating a demeaning "men's club" atmosphere. Their influence extended beyond mere harassment, dictating who would rise to star roles and who would face dismissal from the ballet.

TW//pr*stitution, slightly graphic murder, work place abuse, implied human trafficking, kidnapping

You stepped out backstage as the performance finally ended, the applause of the audience fading away into the background as the chatter of your fellow dancers took over the sound of the back halls of the Royal Opera House. You yawned but quickly gasped as you felt arms wrap around your torso along with a high pitched giggle that you quickly placed as belonging to Sorelli, one of your friends and fellow dancers at the ballet.

“Seems like your new costume is fitting wonderfully.” She spoke with a melodic tone which made you roll your eyes as her arms slipped from your waist.

“It only took two weeks of complaints to the costuming department to get a new one.” You sighed as she came to walk next to you. You looked around the backstage, and it seemed like a few of the gentlemen from the audience had already made their way backstage, slipping away from their seats before the show had ended so they could have first pick of the ladies of the ballet. You glanced at Sorelli and she was doing the same, looking over the men present trying to pick out the ones who would be able to pay for her time. “Your rent is due, huh?”

“Yes, and I do not think my landlady will be willing to take a late payment this time around.” You were slightly tempted to stay and help her but looking over the people present you thought it better if you did not since you had already engaged in more unsavory activities the night prior and it seems like Sorelli recognized this as well since she leaned over to whisper in your ear. “You should head home before they come into the dressing rooms.”

“Will you be alright?” You asked and she nodded before pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Fine, but please promise me you will not go home with any of them, you remember what happened to Rosemary.”

“I promise, you have my word.” 

With those words you scampered off to the dressing rooms to avoid any flings that may take place in there tonight. You managed to avoid many of the clientele on the way to the dressing rooms, only receiving a handful of comments and compliments that you responded to with false gratitude in your voice.

“I could not take my eyes off you this evening.”

“Thank you Earl, you are too kind.”

“The way your body moves was mesmerizing.”

“O-oh, thank you, my lord.”

“Ah why don’t you join us for drinks, I have a friend I would like to introduce you to.”

“Oh no thank you, perhaps another night.”

You clicked the dressing room door locked as you began to remove your pointe shoes and slip out of your costume, hanging it up on the rack by your name label on the wall and placing the shoes in a box underneath it. You made note of your worn down shoes, it had only been two weeks but it seems like you would need a new pair sooner than later, but to find ones that actually fit you would cost more money than you currently had so you would probably have to settle on some that were a side to big or small.

You sighed as you slipped on your scarf as you stepped out of the dressing room, closing the door behind you. You managed to spot Sorelli talking to two gentlemen, a viscount and earl you believe, in a doorway, it seems like she will be able to pay rent tonight. You slipped through the back halls of the opera house, ignoring the sounds from all around you as hard as they were to drown out.

You pushed open one of the back doors of the opera house that led into a back alley and the cold winter hair hit your skin like cold water washing away sweat from your hot skin after a summer’s day. You began your long walk home through the dark streets of London, the streets were still populated enough that no one would try anything but it did not stop you from feeling the heat of eyes burning into your skin. You picked up your pace ever so slightly as you felt it begin to drizzle, you did not wish to catch a cold in this weather, you did not have the money to pay for a doctor right now. 

…and it seems you spoke too soon.

A carriage moved past you, the wheel driving through a puddle and the splash landed on you, soaking you to the bone with both water and mud. The carriage did not even stop when you saw the face of someone finally dressed peer out and completely ignored you, speeding down the street. You huffed and shook out your hands  to get the freezing water off of them.

“Miss, are you alright- oh my you are soaking!” You heard a voice from behind you exclaimed. You turned around to see a young man with blond hair and scarlet red eyes, he was dressed in fine clothes, a noble it seemed, but his eyes were filled with worry for your freezing form. You watched as he stepped towards you, removing his own jacket to wrap around your shoulders. “What on earth are you doing out in this weather?”

“I could ask you the same thing, sir.” You replied as his gloved hands pulled the jacket tighter around your shaking form. “But I am fine, really, I was just on my way home.”

“Then please let me escort you home, you will catch a cold out in this weather .” He said and he gestured to the carriage across the way and you could see the silhouettes of two other men within. “I am sure my brothers would have no problem with a detour on the way home.”

Remember what happened to Rosemary.

Those words you spoke echoed in your mind as you thought of a response as the scarlet eyed man looked at you. You remember the cries of Sorelli when you found out what happened while you could only stand there, wide eyed, in shock. The photos that were published in the paper were horrific, but the truth was never written and went unspoken by the girls of the ballet. You suppose money can buy anything and everything, even silence.

“Are you alright over there, William?” A voice from one of the two men in the carriage pulled you back into reality. You turned your head to the carriage to see an attractive brown haired man who opened the door to call out to his brother.

“Yes, Miss (Name) here just seemed to be out of it for a moment.” He replied to the man who nodded at his response. The man you now knew as William turned to you once more, extending his hand out to you. “Shall we?”

“I… um….” What happened to Rosemary was a rare occurrence, right? These were not the same people you last saw here with, besides they did not seem to be regulars at the ballet, you would recognize them if they were, then William gave you his coat in the freezing cold, no one, let alone a noble, has ever done something like that for you. You set your own hand in his, feeling his larger fingers wrap around the back of your hand. “Yes, I will take you up on that offer.”

“Lovely.” He led you towards the carriage that had the door open from when the brown haired man called out. William braced your arm as you stepped up into the carriage, along with the assistance of the brown haired man who helped you up by offering you his hand.

 You sat down across from the two other gentlemen in the carriage, the brown haired man and another blond haired man who looked almost identical to William besides the glasses he wore and the hair that seemed to cover a scar of sorts. You did not make eye contact with either of them despite the kind smiles they offered you as William said something to the driver before stepping in and sitting alongside you, his arm pressing against your shoulder that was covered by the jacket he had given you.

You felt the carriage begin to move as you just tried to remind yourself this was not going to end like Rosemary, they were just taking home, nothing else, you were perfectly safe, but what if-

“Miss (Name), are you alright? You look quite pale.” The voice of William stopped you from spiraling even deeper. You jumped at first but managed to regain your composure, but that did not go unnoticed by the three brothers.

“Y-yes, just caught up in my thoughts, apologies.” You responded and he hummed in response and you all were resolved to silence for a moment before you mustered up the courage to speak again. “What brings you to this side of the city, sir-“

“William James Moriarty, but please just call me William, and to answer your question, I was just attending a meeting with one of my clients.” He cut you off as you tried to remember his name. He extended his hand, gesturing to his two brothers, the blonde first and then the brunette. “These are my brothers, Louis and Albert.”

You pieced the names together in your mind…

…Louis James Moriarty.

…Albert James Moriarty.

You had heard the name of the brown haired man before, whispered in conversation of the nobles after shows at the ballet when you were hanging on one of their arms. You learned quite a lot when listening in to those conversations, gossip and dirty secrets kept in hushed tones among the nobility, and even a few names, the Earl you sat across from being one of them.

“Earl Moriarty, correct?” You asked and an almost embarrassed smile came across the man’s face.

“Yes, but how did you know?” He asked, a playful curiosity coming into his voice.

“I am a ballerina at the Royal Opera House.” You answer but not one of the brother’s expressions turned to one of shock, it is as if they already knew. “It is honestly surprising what you learn when the aristocracy get drunk and already have no filter around someone they already deem as insignificant- I should not have said that, apologies.”

“No need to apologize, I promise no one here will be offended.” William responded on Albert’s behalf with a small laugh, you glanced at Albert for confirmation and he nodded along with a smile. William’s red eyes fixed on you as your gaze went from Albert to him. “Now I am curious, what does a lady like you hear from such nobility?”

“Well mostly meaningless gossip, whose wives are having affairs with other men, failed business deals or scams, but currently the unknown Lord of Crime has caught the attention of the ton.” You looked at William as you spoke, unable to see the narrowing eyes of Albert and Louis as you did. “But I suppose none of it truly applies to me, just something to listen to in order to pass the time of the last few hours of the work day.”

“Hm, but would your day not end at the end of the performance?” You heard Louis chime in, finally hearing him speak. You shook your head no, your smiling fading ever so slightly. “How so?”

“One unfamiliar with the ballet may be surprised by what happens within those walls.” Your eyes fell down to your skirt, your gloved hands gripping the fabric of it as you spoke. “ It is not all as beautiful as it may seem after the show.” 

You jumped a bit when you felt and saw William’s hand come to rest atop your own, his thumb running circles over your knuckles. Your eyes shot up to him and he offered you a comforting smile.

“It is alright, you can tell us.”

“You… you promise you will not tell a soul that I told you this.”

“You have our word, my dear.”

You hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Albert who nodded in agreement, then at Louis who also nodded in agreement, then back at William. He smiled down at you with those lovely scarlet red eyes and it felt like any hesitation melted away.

“Well… after shows many gentlemen of the aristocracy will come to… socialize with the female performers of the ballet.” Everyone’s attention and gazes were fixed on you as you began to explain. “Sometimes it is just harmless flirting with some conversation and drinks, other times it becomes a bit… more. But it pays, keeps a roof over my head and enough food on my plate so I don’t starve.”

“I see….” You did not notice the drop in William’s voice as he responded and pondered over what you just explained. “And I could imagine the money one would make if one was to go home with one of them for the evening.”

“That… that does not happen anymore, not since Rosemary.” 

“Rosemary?”

“She was another ballerina at the opera like myself, I performed alongside her and her sister, Sorelli.” You responded to Louis, explaining who she was. “She was a kind lady, too kind for her own good. She went with some Baron after a performance, she told us that she would see us in the morning but that was a lie. Two weeks later, a shop owner, a tailor I think, found her body in the river, gutted like a fish.”

“That must have been horribly hard for you.” Albert was the first to respond after hearing your explanation.

“What I went through was nothing compared to what Sorelli went through. I remember her crying when we found out, it was after a performance and I had to drag her away to not start a scene, but you can’t blame her, the law enforcement did not even bother telling her until the death was published by the papers.” You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you recalled that horrible day, there was not even a funeral, just the grave marked when the body was identified. You had taken Sorelli to visit the grave and she was just broken. “But that is not the worst part, that man still goes to the ballet and even paid off the owner, every single girl there knows he did it but no one will say anything, not if they value their life.”

“I am sure they will receive their punishment in due time.” William spoke to you after a moment, his hand coming up from your hand that he held and up to your cheek to wipe away your salty tears. The leather felt warm against your cheek, from the heat between your hands. “I will see to it personally.”

“If only the world worked like that.” 

The rest of the carriage ride was peaceful, a few more pleasantries exchanged here and there but soon enough you arrived outside of the apartment building you lived in. Like before, William helped you out of the carriage and as soon as your feet touched the ground he took your hand that he held and brought it up to his lips, kissing the back of it.

“It was a pleasure finally meeting you, Miss (Name).”

“It was a pleasure to meet you as well, William.” 

He released your hand and you quickly made your way inside the warm apartment building and scurried up into your own one room apartment, it was not much but it was home. Your landlord finally repaired the ceiling so it would not leak during the rain and freeze you during the winter, but you still had to stuff whatever extra bedding you had in the window because it would never close all the way. 

You went to remove your coat, only to find that you were still wearing William’s coat, you had forgotten to return it and he forgot to take it back. You sighed and peered out the window, the carriage was gone so you doubted you would be able to return it now so you simply decided to hand it up alongside your own clothes in the closet. As you were beginning to strip out of your wet clothes to change into a nightdress, you reflected on your conversation with the three brothers, they were so kind to you especially when you mentioned such a sour topic as murder. Then the way William looked at you, it was like he knew you better than any man alive, like those lovers who attend performances with one another and they gaze into each other’s eyes when the romantic music begins to swell…

You felt your breathing stop…

You pushed yourself to turn your head to gaze out the window once more…

Looking over the streets…

The other buildings…

The people that walked the streets and dwelled in these houses were nothing like the brothers, they were commoners and the Moriarty family was nobility, you should have no prior interactions with one another…

But how did they know your address without you telling him…

And how did he know your name…

You felt your stomach lurch at those thoughts…

Has he been watching you?

Were you going to end up like Rosemary?

—————————

A week had passed since your encounter with the Moriarty brothers and life carried on like it always had, minus the pocket knife you had bought off from one of the stagehands at the opera house. It was after another performance and you were going to go straight home with Sorelli tonight since she had begun walking you home due to your growing paranoia. You both had stepped into the dressing rooms and Sorelli immediately ran off to her own things and reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a box.

“Macarons!” She exclaimed as she opened the box and sat on the floor, gesturing for you to sit next to her. “Come on, I got these for both of us.”

“You are an actual angel, Sorelli.” You replied, going to sit down next to her, not caring about ruining your costume by sitting in it or eating in it, it was already old enough that it needed to be replaced. 

“Well with all the stress you have had as of late, it was the least I could do.” She spoke as you both reached in to grab one and you brought it up to your lips-

“What are you two doing in here?!” You heard a voice angrily shout as the dressing room door slammed open. You both gasped as your eyes shot up to see the ballet mistress in the doorway. She stomped over to you two and you immediately stood up and fell silent. You felt her eyes look you two over, scanning over you like fire covering the room. “Eating and sitting in costume, do you even care for the things you are provided? Do you know how much these cost?”

“No madam.” You both said in unison like you had been taught, along with not making eye contact with the old hag out of fear.

“Well you better pay for the damages you caused.” She snapped at the two of you, her voice like nails on a chalkboard. “I want the money for them before the opera house closes for the night, do you understand?”

“But madam, I-“

You were cut off with a sharp pain across the face as she stuck you.

“I did not ask for buts, do you understand girl?”

You had to bite back tears as you replied.

“Yes Madam.”

“Good, now fix your makeup, no man would want to be seen with a girl who looks like that.” She stated as she finally walked out the door and you finally broke, weeping in your hands. Everything has finally become too much for you. You felt Sorelli rub circles into your back.

“I hate that witch.” You muttered through your tears.

“Have to agree with you on that one.” Your fellow ballerina replied as she helped you stand up straight and wipe away your tears. “Why don’t we fix you up and we can deal with this together.”

“You are too sweet for your own good.”

Sorelli sat you down and began to do your make up again, cleaning up the tear stains on your cheeks and taking special care to hide away the red hand print that was forming on your skin. You sadly had to put the box of treats away to enjoy some other time since you did not wish to get caught again. 

“I can take care of my hair, Sorelli.” You said as you picked up the brush from the vanity. “You can go on ahead, I think I will find that viscount that is here tonight.”

“Alright, see you at closing?”

“I will see you then.”

You watched as she scampered out of the dressing room and you began to brush through your hair in near silence minus the chatter and other noises from outside the dressing room walls. Sometimes with Sorelli it did not even seem like she had a sister, her name had become a warning among the dancers of the ballet so that is what Rosemary’s identity had melted into.

“You look lovely tonight.” Your eyes shot up into the mirror when you heard that voice and in the reflection of the glass you saw those same red eyes from that carriage ride once more, Williams was standing behind you and you did not even notice.

“Thank you… William.” He stepped towards you again, his feet clicking against the old wood floor. You felt his hand slip into your own, grabbing the brush you held and he took a strand of your hair and began brushing through it himself.

“You have been crying, your eyes are swollen under your makeup.” He stated this as a matter of fact and you could only nod as he brushed through a knot. “Now why do you stain your face with such tears? What is wrong, my dear?”

“Everything, everything is wrong.”

“Everything?”

“Yes, there is not a day I don’t imagine leaving this hell hole, but there is no day where I do because I have nowhere to go. The way they look at me and touch me, it feels like I am nothing but just something for their amusement.” You wrapped your arms around your shaking form as you tried to hold back your tears. “The sometimes it feels like Sorelli has all but forgotten what happened to Rosemary, she is in the ground now.”

“Oh you poor thing, I was in the audience tonight and I have to admit I noticed their looks as well, a terrible thing for you to go through.” He pulled a little harder as he combed through a tangle. “But as for your friend, I am sure she will come to terms with her grief in time, sometimes it just takes action in order to recover.”

“I just wish this all would go away, I want none of it, I just want to see this place burn up in smoke and flames.”

“Then your wish is my command.” Before you could question his words he spoke as he tied up your hair with a ribbon. He reached into his pocket and took out more than enough money to pay back the ballet mistress. “Why don’t you go home early, I am sure you need your rest after such a long day.”

“Thank you, William.”

After he left the dressing room, you scampered to get changed so you may go and find Sorelli. You made your way through the halls looking for her and you found her in the oddest of places with the oddest of people, you found her near the entrance to the storage cellars talking to.

“Lord Albert? Sorelli?” You called out to the duo who were talking, but they did not seem to share the same playful chatter as most others in the building did. Sorelli and the eldest Moriarty brother looked at you with a bit of surprise.

“Oh (Name), are you ready to go?” She asked, a false smile coming across her face.

“Um… yes, are you not coming?”

“Oh well, Lord Albert and I were just having the most interesting conversation.” She replied, gesturing to the man beside her. “I think I would like to talk to him a bit longer if you would like to head home.”

“Talking? About what?”

“Pyrotechnics.” Albert answered on her behalf and your gaze shifted to him. “Some theaters in the Americas and France are using them in their stage performances.”

“Sounds dangerous.” You replied and your eyes shifted back at her, you were about to say something, but sighed, deciding to let it go. “I am going to head home, I already paid both of our portions to the old hag so just head home when you are done.”

“I will.”

“Alright, see you tomorrow.” You turned on your heel and began walking down the hall, slowly…

You waited for a reply but all you got was a simple…

“Goodbye.”

—————————

“Fire at the Royal Opera House: Three Dead, Ten Casualties.”

That was the first headline you saw in the morning when you picked up this morning’s paper from a newsboy. 

You threw up on the spot.

Apparently after the opera house closed last night, a candle fell over and ignited the whole building, or at least that was the most logical guess but the other part of it was a mystery. Two men were found with bullet holes in their heads in the rubble while a girl was simply found, most likely suffocated to death…

Sorelli…

Not only were you out of the job but your best friend was dead.

You raced to the scene immediately, your warm breath showing white fog in the cold as you ran through the streets of London like a mad woman. Then upon arriving at the sight, all that was left was the burnt ruins of the opera house. The sight was being contained by law enforcement since the ruins were still smoking and the sight was being investigated. You could see three bodies, covered in a black tarp in the the distance, two larger and one smaller…

Sorelli…

She did not deserve this…

No…

Please god no…

You must have stood in the street for hours, just staring at your friend’s dead body in shock…

Just like you did when Rosemary died…

You had to be told to go home by one of the officers since you looked exhausted, so you did.

Your mind just felt numb…

You felt dead…

Why…

Why…

Why…

You pushed yourself back inside your apartment building and your landlord who was reading the morning paper, the same edition as the one you bought, looked up at you.

“Someone is here to see you, I let him into your apartment.” You nodded at his statement and as you went to walk up stairs he spoke again. “Oh and rent is due by the end of the week.”

You gritted your teeth…

Selfish bastard…

He is literally reading about how you just lost your best friend and job and that is what he says.

You rolled your eyes and walked back upstairs, not even remembering the fact that you have a guest. You pushed open your already partially opened apartment door and you immediately dropped your keys and paper…

“William… what are you doing here?”

William James Moriarty sat on your bed, holding his coat he gave you that night in his hands. He looked up at you with a smile, but this time it did not feel kind, it felt almost wicked.

“I am here to take you home.”

“Home?”

“Yes, with the opera house burnt down I figured that you would be out of the job so the least I could do was provide you with a safe place to rest your head.” Your lips were slightly agape in shock when he said those words. He looked at you, a new pity coming into his eyes. “I am also here to extend my condolences for your loss.”

“Sorelli…”

“Yes, I am afraid so.” He nodded at your words as he stood up from the bed. “We tried to get her out before she got trapped in the flames, but she just would not listen.”

Your eyes went wide when he said those words and you felt your heart stop beating in your chest.

“What…”

“She told me to tell you to live for both her and Rosemary and told me to take care of you since she knew you would be quite grief stricken.” You felt your mind grow numb again in shock as he continued to speak. “She did it for you, she did not want to see you end up like her sister.”

“She… she did what?”

“Well she murdered both the owner of the opera house and the man who killed her sister.” You felt the bile building up in your throat as he began to explain again. “The fire… that was her idea, to burn it all away so you would never have to go back there.”

“Oh my god…”

“I know it must be a lot to take in, my dear.” You felt William’s ungloved hand come to rest against your check, raising your head up to look at him. “But I will be here to help you through it, my brothers as well. Louis already has your room prepared, and Albert was expressing to me at breakfast how happy you will be there-“

“Don’t touch me!” 

You slapped his hand away, backing up towards your door. Your eyes were wide with both rage and fear.

“Dearest-“

“You are the Lord of Crime, aren’t you?” You cut him off, raising your eyes to look up at him. William’s smiling expression had all but disappeared at your words and instead was replaced by something darker. “You knowing my name, where I lived, it all makes sense, you were trying to kill those two men all along.”

“While you are not incorrect with your first guess, you are with your second.” He stepped towards you after you stepped back. “I was originally looking for someone to assist in the removal of those two men but when I was looking into you, you were just too pure to do such an act.”

“What… what are you on about?”

“You have been tossed around all your life, forced into this work by your mother and kicked out when you said you did not want to do it anymore. Then your ballet mistress, who abused you for even making a mistake. Then those men, who took advantage of you because of your weak state.” You were frozen as he finally stood before you again. “Did you even know that you were the next target of the man who killed Rosemary?”

“…no…”

“You were, and if it was not for me and your late friend, you would be dead.” The breath left your lungs as he spoke. You could barely process the feeling of him draping his coat over your shoulders, just like that night when you first met. “She told me to take care of you and who am I to refuse a request from a dying woman?”

You did not process anything after he spoke those words…

Not you being led downstairs by him…

Not him handing over your keys to the landlord…

Not him taking you outside…

Not him helping you into the carriage…

Not the carriage beginning to move as William placed a kiss upon your lips, just like all the men who have done that before….

The only thought that came into your mind came to you as William laid your head in his lap as you began to daze off into sleep…

…You were just like Rosemary.

[s-brant]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Nancy and Y/N are best friends. The problem is, Y/N and Steve have been secretly hooking up for weeks, and when Nancy asks for advice about possibly getting back together with him, Y/N doesn’t know how to feel.

“wow genuinely your steve fics are so good and seem to be super well thought out i’m literally scared that a prompt i send won’t be good enough!! i dont know i want to say “we shouldn’t be doing this” sex w steve because i’m a whore for it”

7k (18+)

Warnings: smut, penetrative sex, exhibitionism, praise kink, very slight dub-con if you squint due to wording but not really, it’s also just assumed reader is on the pill, and strong language.

This is wrong.

She knows that she shouldn't be thinking or feeling any of the things she is at the moment, but, when she looks up from her spot on the floor in the Wheeler's basement to find Steve staring at her, she cannot ignore the butterflies that stir to life in her stomach. Those pretty brown eyes of his are quick to avert back to the task at hand, but, for the short few seconds that they lock eyes, his lips twitch with the urge to curl up into a smile at her.

The thing is, Y/N and Steve have been secretly fucking for a few weeks now. In her defense, she didn't actively seek him out for the sake of having sex with him.

It was dark and rainy that night, and she was caught up in the storm on her bike as she pedaled home from cheer practice, eyes nearly shut from the wind that blew up the street at her face. The uniform she donned all afternoon was drenched from the downpour, and her hair stuck to the sides of her face as well. It annoyed her that she was two miles from home and her useless mother couldn't be bothered to part with her boyfriend to drive to get her, sure, but she tried not to let it bring her down.

Then, out of the gloom that hung over Hawkins, the headlights of a familiar BMW came up over the hill in the road to shine in her face, and she knew it was Steve before he even had the chance to slow to a stop and roll down his window to talk to her. If anyone else did this—even him a few years ago when he'd been the king of Hawkins High School—they'd come off as a creep, but it was Steve. Her best friend Nancy's sweet, if not a little clueless, ex-boyfriend who babysits her brother and his best friends. There was nothing to worry about.

He asked incredulously, "What are you doing out in this?" The doors to the car unlocked with a click. "Come on, I'll take you the rest of the way. You're gonna get sick."

So, she went. Her bike barely fit in the back of the car, and once she slammed the door shut, he wasted little time in driving off into the rainy night.

"Where do you live?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"I was gonna go ask Nance if I could crash in the basement. My mom didn't answer, and when she doesn't answer, it's probably not a good idea to come home unless I want to walk in on something that'll make me wanna bleach my eyes. Learned that lesson the hard way."

The sound of his melodic laugh filled the car, then, when she just stared at him, the amusement fell from his face.

"Oh, you're not kidding?"

It was her turn to laugh.

"I wish," she said, cutting him a sidelong glance before setting her sights back on the road ahead. "She and her weirdo boyfriend literally demand that I don't come home on nights he's over. Apparently, it's their constitutional right to fuck on the kitchen counter, I don't know."

There was a dip of silence in which neither of them said a word after that.

In his peripheral vision, he could see her fiddling with the hem of her soaked cheer skirt awkwardly as she avoided looking at him at all costs, and, suddenly, something changed.

Y/N had befriended Nancy shortly before their breakup, so he hasn't been in close proximity to her many times. Seeing that they've been broken up for a year, he doesn't have a reason to interact with her except for when he's picking up or dropping off the kids from the Wheeler's house when she's hanging out there. But, that night in his car, she was acting strange around him. Strange in the way that girls used to act around him all the time back when they hoped and prayed for a chance with the most popular guy at school. He didn't understand why she was behaving in such a way now, though. The way he saw it, he was a loser who couldn't even get into college like his other classmates and worked at Family Video.

What he didn't know, however, is that she didn't think he was a loser at all. If anything, her view on him then made a complete turnaround compared to when he was dating her best friend. When she got stuck with him and the kids last year at Joyce Byers' house and watched him go head-to-head with Billy in defense of Lucas, she knew a small part of her heart would always belong to Steve Harrington. She was the one to clean the cuts lining his face, as well as the blooded nose caused by the beating he took, and place bandaids from under the Byers' sink on each one of them. After that, she didn't see him again outside of fleeting glances in the hallway and through the windows of his car parked outside the Wheeler's place until recently.

He said, trying to keep his cool with the smoking hot girl he never noticed last year due to his Nancy-induced heartache sitting in the passenger's seat of his car, "I just dropped Dustin off at Mike's and Nancy was on her way out to see Jonathan."

She asked, "How about your place, then?" and the rest was history.

It wasn't even a half hour later that she was laid back on his couch with his head buried between her thighs and a hand gripping a fistful of his hair as she panted for air amidst the build-up to her orgasm. Then, after she woke in his bedroom and snuck out of the front door before his parents could notice her presence in the house, it wasn't long before they crossed paths again...and again and again. She'd wait around the back of the school where she knew Nancy wouldn't see for him to pick her up from school after his shift at Family Video, and they began to develop a routine of swimming in his pool, having dinner together since his parents couldn't be bothered to hang around with him, and having sex before he had to drive her back home in time to do her homework before bed.

As far as she was concerned, they were just having fun and not labeling whatever it was that was going on between them. Steve, on the other hand, was already imagining how her name might sound with his last name attached to the end of it.

Now, as they're sitting in Nancy's basement and helping the kids with the projects they waited until the very last second to start, he's still fantasizing about all the things he wants to do with her. Not just sexually, either. He's been trying to work up the nerve to ask her on a date for the past few days, but every time he tries, his nerves get in the way. That voice in the back of his mind sings its doubts, telling him that she'll never want him in the same way that he wants her. No one has ever wanted him to be the one, so why should it start with her?

When Steve gets up from the couch to pay for the pizza they ordered to the house, Nancy casts a look over her should at him to ensure he's too far to hear and scoots closer to Y/N while the kids are engrossed in their own conversations.

She whispers, "Can I tell you something? It's about Steve..."

Anxiety tightens the muscles of Y/N's chest as she tries to keep her face schooled into a mask of neutrality. Although she feels like the truth is written across her face every time she comes into the presence of her best friend, she is outwardly as calm as can be. She doesn't know whether or not she should take pride in the skill she's acquired in lying since she and Steve began hooking up.

What else can she do except nod?

Nancy goes on in a hushed tone, "I've been kind of having these...feelings for him again lately. Feelings I haven't had since we were together before. And I love Jonathan, I do, but I guess I'm just worried about what I'm missing. I just don't know if I made the right choice now that these feelings are back." As soon as the words leave her mouth, she shakes her head and shuts her as if that'll take them back. "That was so fucked up of me to say, I'm sorry."

The news sinks home inside of her like lead weighing her down at the bottom of her stomach. Part of the reason she hadn't bothered entertaining the curious side of her that wondered if Steve felt anything more for her in the quiet moments after they had sex, when he'd linger on top of her for a few seconds longer and murmur his praises into the warm curve of her neck, was because she'd be confronted with the issue of her best friend being his ex. Granted, they weren't best friends for the majority of the time they dated. She was more of a post-Steve thing, but that isn't the point. The point is, her own moral code, as well as girl code, dictates that Steve is strictly off limits. But, if that's true, why does she want him so badly?

But because of this, she cannot do anything other than force a reassuring smile on her face as she reaches for her friend's hand and whispers, "Thoughts aren't inherently bad or good, they're just thoughts. Everyone has doubts to themselves, but I think it's important to remember how well you and Jonathan work together. I mean, he was the reason you left Steve in the first place."

The words she doesn't speak aloud but feels clawing at her from the inside begging to be released are something along the lines of, Please, don't drag him back just to break his heart again in another year. Don't steal him away if you don't really want him. But, she can't say that, not because it isn't her honest opinion regardless of her current relationship with him, but because Nancy would know based on the waver in her voice that something is going on between them.

To her mortification, her words don't appear to help the difficult debate waging war on Nancy's mind. If anything, it muddles things further and creates more discourse.

"You're right, you're absolutely right, but..." Of course, there's a but. "What if my instinct is trying to tell me something and I'm ignoring it?"

There's a drawn-out pause, then—

"Maybe just wait and see how you feel for a few more weeks before you say or do anything. It might just be one of those things that comes and goes, y'know?"

Nancy is quick to nod, setting her focus back on the partially painted piece of cardboard belonging to Max's unfinished project. For another minute or so, Y/N can't do anything but focus on her out of the corner of her eye, worry stirring to life within that the happiness she's experienced in the past few weeks will be taken from her the second Nancy decides to talk about the feelings she's having.

Steve isn't hers, so why does she feel this nagging possessive instinct whenever she imagines her friend acting on the feelings she just admitted to having? She never realized until now, but she doesn't think she can share him. Whether that means they will soon need to have a talk about their arrangement and how the feelings she's having are getting in the way of it being just "fun" or not, she isn't sure, but she knows one thing.

She needs to find him.

Y/N sets down what she'd been working in favor of standing from her spot on the floor, knees tucked beneath her bottom on a stray cushion, and offers up a placating smile when multiple faces around the room perk up to see why she's leaving.

"Where are you going?" Mike asks.

"Bathroom," she says. "Be right back."

With a quick, worried glance at Nancy calms her nerves instantly. There's no suspicion present on her friend's face. If anything, she's too focused on the task at hand, as well as the difficult debate going on within her head over the whole Steve versus Jonathan thing that has existed since junior year of high school, to notice or care about her sneaking away to "use the bathroom". It allows Y/N's racing heart to slow momentarily as she ascends the old staircase to the Wheeler's basement and enters the main level of the house. Slowly, carefully, she shuts the door to the basement behind her to keep any conversation she may have with Steve as private as possible.

The bright array of cozy lights strung up around the Christmas tree positioned in the corner of the living room passes in her periphery on her way to the front door where she sees Steve talking to the pizza guy with one hand casually propped against the open door. She assumes it must be an old friend, perhaps someone who used to be on the varsity basketball or baseball team with him back when they were in school together, but it matters little to her who they are at the moment. The only thing she can think to do is stake her claim before it's too late. Or, at least, have one last good night with him before Nancy takes him back.

She waits with her back leaned up against the staircase railing and watches him take the stack of three boxes from the delivery man after handing him the cash as payment.

"Alright, have a nice night, man," Steve says.

The man lifts a hand to wave goodbye over his shoulder as he's turning to walk off in the direction of his parked car, and, with that, the front door swings shut. When he turns around with the pizza boxes balanced precariously in one hand, it's difficult not to flinch and drop them all to the floor at the unexpected sight of her standing there.

"Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me," he says after a second is taken to steady himself, one hand pressed over his chest as though to soothe his heart after the drastic shock it received. When she remains quiet, he furrows his brows, continuing, "You're really quiet right now. It's actually kind of creepy." His voice then quiets as a new thought comes to him. "...Unless it's a weird sex thing, then I might like it."

All she does is allow her lips to curl up a bit at the ends in a slight smile before she turns to walk down the hallway to the kitchen. The living room is being used by Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler to watch a popular movie Steve so kindly held aside at Family Video for them when they asked Y/N if he could do so. And, of course, since she was the one who asked, it was delivered right to Mrs. Wheeler the second he arrived tonight.

In fact, the exact words he said, although quietly so anyone at the store couldn't hear, when she asked was, "Sure. Anything for my girl."

My girl.

As she walks through the entrance to the kitchen with her back to him, she picks the two words apart over and over again. Particularly, she gets stuck on the first one. My. It lights a fire in the pit of her abdomen, desire flaring to life at the memory of him casually declaring her as something that belonged to him. My. A possessive word. One he had been comfortable in using. The question is, would he be comfortable with it the other way around? The voice in the back of her head can't help but wonder...

Is Steve hers?

He keeps eyeing her up suspiciously throughout the process of setting the pizza boxes down on the kitchen island one by one and checking to make sure they're what they ordered before the delivery man pulls out of the driveway. Once it's confirmed that they are, in fact, two plain cheese pizzas and one pepperoni for Max and Dustin, he pauses to call her odd behavior into question again.

Steve asks, "Okay, you're really starting to freak me out. Are you okay? Did I do something?" She doesn't allow her face to give away any of her true intentions as she walks around the island, making sure in her peripheral vision that there's no one around to see them as she approaches. "If I did something, you can just tell me—”

His sentence is cut off at the end by her kissing him to shut him up.

It's a surprise, sure, but it doesn't take him any longer than a second or two to realize what's happening and react accordingly. As if it's an instinct as natural as breathing, he kisses her back with an urgency that brings a flushed color to his cheeks and settles both hands on her hips to tug them closer. The warmth of his fingertips touching the stretch of bare skin between her slightly too-short sweater and jeans draws a barely-audible noise from the back of her throat. But, he hears it. He always picks up on those little things about her, whether they be sounds, expressions she makes, or anything of the sort.

The kiss is cut short a second or two later out of fear of someone walking in, but his hands refuse to stray from her hips when she pulls away with a look in her eyes he knows all too well. Her pupils are blown wide with lush, glazed-over in a way they never get outside of moments such as these, and he knows straight away what she wants from him.

He asks, "So, it was a sex thing?"

Finally, she can't help but break her act of stoicism and offers him a bright smile.

"Shut up and follow me."

"What about the kids—"

The sharp tug of her hand wrapped around his wrist brings him away from the kitchen island, bringing him along in every step she takes toward the entrance to the hallway. She doesn't bother to look over his shoulder when she next speaks. Instead, she gives his hand a reassuring squeeze to get the same sentiment across as the words leave her mouth.

"They think I'm in the bathroom. And, for all they know, you could be outside talking to the pizza guy," she offers.

It's settled, then.

Still, in the time it takes her to drag him down the hall and up the staircase behind her, Steve can't help but check over his shoulder multiple times to ensure Nancy, Robin, the kids, or Nancy's parents didn't see them leaving to go up the stairs. The last thing he expected tonight was for her to pounce on him like a feral animal and drag him upstairs to have her way with him in a house filled with people. They've done it in risky places before, like on the break room table at Family Video and his car parked at Lover's Lake, but they've never done it in a place as risky as Nancy's house.

Despite the mild confusion it causes, whatever it is that has gotten into her, he prays it never leaves. It isn't unusual for her to initiate sex with him. Hell, half the time, she's the one who leans in to kiss him first or calls to ask if he's home, but he has always been the one to initiate in situations like these. It was his idea to fuck her on the break room table just like it was his idea to bend her over the hood of his car at Lover's Lake last week.

Every door they pass and briefly pause at is a no-go. Mike's room? Absolutely not. Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler's room? Never. Holly's room? That would be the most deplorable thing either of them has ever done. So, when they reach Nancy's half-open bedroom at the end of the hallway, Y/N has no other choice but to pull him inside and push him up against the shut door.

In between the eager, open-mouthed kisses she gives him, he murmurs, "We shouldn't be doing this. Nance will literally murder us if she finds out."

She shakes her head into the kiss and pulls back, breathless, to say, "Then, we're gonna have to be quiet, huh?" before promptly reconnecting their mouths.

His face lights up at the mischievous tone her voice takes, and he can't ignore how his cock starts to strain against the tight denim of his Levi's at the mere thought of fucking her while everyone else is unaware downstairs. She can feel him smirk against her lips, his chest jerking with the sound of him chuckling to himself at how this girl has him wrapped around her finger.

And there it is. With a conflicted feeling of acceptance, he finally realizes he's falling in love again.

As soon as he realizes that this is real, that they're truly about to do this, Steve takes control of the situation in a matter of seconds. His hands make quick work of tugging her sweater off of her body. Her arms rise to make the task easier for him as he frantically undresses her and tosses the knitted fabric onto the floor behind the locked bedroom door. When she's free of the confines of her warm sweater, she then reaches for his shirt and rips it off with the same frantic nature he had with her. There's a time and place for unhurried, slow sex, but this is not one of them. By her estimation, they have five minutes to spare before their friends notice their absence and begin to question their whereabouts.

He hefts her up into her arms with his hands grasping the backs of her thighs to bring them around his hips, but right before he can set her down on the bed, she shakes her head.

"No, Steve, the headboard hitting the wall will be too loud."

This earns a scoff from him.

Though he'd never be dumb enough to bring up his ex while he's about to have sex with her, Steve is as familiar with Nancy's room as she is, if not more. After all, he snuck inside a handful of times and had to get creative so as to not allow her parents to hear what they were doing while they were asleep across the hallway. Her headboard does bang against the wall, that she's right about, but her mattress doesn't creak much, and if he puts a few of her pillows between the wall and the headboard...

He tosses her down onto the bed with ease and crawls up to meet her where she lays with her head cradled against one of the pillows. His hand reaches to the side to grab the other one and maneuvers it between the wall and headboard, then grabs one of the many decorative ones to do the same on the other end before coming back to her.

Ignoring her previous statement entirely, Steve asks, "You're real cute when you're nervous, you know that?"

The button and zipper to her jeans come undone with a few deft movements of his fingers, and she can't help but grin up at him in spite of her fear of getting caught as he pulls her pants and underwear down her legs in one smooth motion.

There's something better to her about being called cute or beautiful by him rather than the typical "hot" label guys have thrown at her. Don't get her wrong, being called hot is flattering in circumstances of one-night stands or even random compliments from those she likes, but having the guy you like call you cute or beautiful in a moment of heady desire is different. She knows by the way he said it alone that she isn't just an easy fuck to him. He genuinely likes her, and that's not something she ever expected to happen seeing that he used to be a well-known jerk as well as her best friend's ex-boyfriend.

He hardly has the chance to undo his own jeans and shove them partway down his thighs before she's tugging him down onto her with a needy plea for him to fuck her. Her arms wrap around his shoulders as he kisses her, his tongue invading her mouth without warning, and uses one of his hands to guide his cock through her sticky folds. When his tip rubs against her throbbing clit, she can't help but whisper more desperately, urging him to get on with it.

"Steve," she says, a sharp gasp escaping at the feeling of his tip against her entrance, "Please"—her hips press up to sink the tip of his cock into her a little more—"Need you."

Usually, he'd be the insufferable little bastard he always is and retort something like, "Yeah?" or "Tell me what you need from me," for the sake of getting her to blush for him, but they have already used up at least a minute of their time before things become suspicious, so he gives her what she wants without protest.

She cries out beneath him when he sinks into her with no opportunity for her to gradually adjust to his thick cock. Her fingernails dig into the soft skin of his shoulders with enough force to leave crescent-shaped marks indented into him. Before she can think to make another noise again, though, Steve's hand is covering her mouth.

His eyes have gone wide, and the smooth motion of his hips stalling for a second as he listens for anyone coming up the stairs before he pulls his hand from her face. Somewhere to the right of her body, he reaches to grab something she cannot be bothered to look at.

He says softly, "Gotta be quiet, baby," and stuffs the shirt Nancy left on the bed into her open mouth.

Y/N doesn't even have the chance to be shocked or turned on by the fact that he gagged her with his ex-girlfriend's shirt—while they're fucking on her bed—because he starts to move the second he's sure her noises won't get them caught. Well, at least, the noises coming from her mouth. As for the sound of their bodies smacking together, as well as the wet squelching sound that accompanies it from how wet she is, whether or not anyone hears that is left up to chance.

His arms are braced against the bed on either side of her head, caging her in and forcing her to look at him while he ruins her. It doesn't take much for her to feel that fire in the pit of her belly flare up. All it takes is the feeling of him pushing in and out of her, the spare hair at the base of his cock brushing against her clit on the upstroke, and she's melting in his arms.

Seeing Steve above her is like seeing every one of her wet dreams come to life. Sometimes she does dream about him. Whether it be when she's alone in her bedroom or sleeping beside him on nights they're both too exhausted to stray from his bed, she'll wake on the edge of climaxing with her hands balling up the sheets into a fist. When she's alone, she'll take care of it herself. When she's with him, she'll roll over and start nudging her face into the curve of his neck, peppering kisses there until he begins to stir from his sleep.

The sound of her muffled moans coming through the makeshift gag encourages him in his efforts to press himself deeper inside of her on every thrust. One of the hands beside her head grasps one of the posts of Nancy's headboard for leverage while the other slips down between their bodies to press down on the lowest point of her abdomen. When he puts pressure there, it intensifies the pleasure felt from the steady rocking motions he makes into her, and she can't help but buck her hips up to meet his thrusts.

The heel of his hand presses down right above her pubic bone, leaving his fingertips in a perfect position to rub her clit for her. He knows they have very little time, so he doesn't bother trying to get her to come from penetration alone like he often does when they're alone in his empty house while his parents are out. Before him, she never even knew that was something her body was capable of. That's not to say every other guy before him was terrible in bed, but there's a reason he gained a good reputation with the ladies in Hawkins. The first of which was that he had, as she already knew from girls who gossiped about hooking up with him, a big dick. The second and most important reason of all was that he knew what to do with it.

The sight of her breasts bouncing, although hindered slightly by the bra they couldn't be bothered to remove, brings him closer to his end quicker than he expected. He'd like to think he's experienced enough to spend more than a minute and a half fucking a girl before he feels himself getting close, but, with her, one would think he's a touch-starved virgin with how easy it is for her to work him up.

His forehead drops down to press against hers as he mutters, "God, you're fucking perfect," with the words pitching up into a whine at the end from how she clenches around him.

Just when he thinks he can feel her tensing up and writhing beneath him with the build-up to her orgasm, someone knocks on the bedroom door.

He goes as still as death, and Y/N, too lost in a world that solely consists of Steve Harrington and nothing else, looks up at him with her brows scrunching in confusion until she too hears what drew his attention away from her and caused him to stop.

"Y/N?"

Her eyes go wide at the sound of Nancy's voice, her hand coming up to rip the balled-up shirt out of her mouth in time to respond to her. But, of course, Steve would never let her off that easily. As she opens her mouth to speak, he starts to thrust into her again—slowly, deeply—and it takes everything she has not to whine his name as he rubs her sensitive clit in lazy circular motions to interrupt her train of thought. With the careful pace set and the pillows preventing the headboard from hitting the wall, the bed's constant shifting doesn't make enough noise to alert Nancy of what's happening inside.

She clears her throat and calls out before he can snap his hips forward into hers again, "Yeah? What's up?"

The doorknob rattles as though the person behind the door is trying to get in.

"Why is the door locked?"

Y/N looks up at Steve with pleading eyes that beg him to cease this torture and allow her the time to respond, but he doesn't. He just dips his head down to kiss at her neck, careful not to leave a mark behind, and leaves her to fend for herself.

"Um," she says, voice a tad louder than she intended from a particularly hard jerk of his hips, and rushes to cover up the accidental outburst, "I figured I'd change into my pajamas for the night. If we're gonna be eating a lot of pizza I don't really wanna"—a whimper is choked back at his fingers speeding up their movement on her clit—"be uncomfortable in my jeans."

"Oh, okay. Well, we're all downstairs whenever you're done." There's a dip of silence, as though Nancy is hesitating before saying what comes next, then, "Have you seen Steve? Dustin was looking for him when he came upstairs. None of us can find him."

Under his breath, he murmurs in annoyance with his hot exhales puffing against her ear, shaking his head, "Henderson."

Of course, Dustin would be the one to send Nancy upstairs in search of him when he's seconds from coming inside her best friend.

Her cock-drunk brain takes a delayed few seconds to conjure a believable alibi for the man fucking her into the mattress right now as she claws at his back and bites down on his shoulder to stifle the moans that try to escape the back of her throat. As Steve grows more and more confident with his ability to ramp up the pace and depth of his thrusts without the bed making too much noise, she starts to unravel rather quickly. She can sense it building in the bottom of her belly and starts shaking her head at him as if he can do anything to get Nancy to go away.

She has to concentrate all of her energy on keeping her voice steady as she says, "He said he was going out to get some soda for the kids 'cause he heard El asking Mike if you guys had some. He was just going to the store for it, so he'll probably be back in like ten minutes."

The second the last few words leave her, she tips over the edge, and his hand comes down to smother her mouth to prevent any noises she makes from echoing in the small room. Neither of them acknowledges whatever parting words Nancy offers before she retreats downstairs to the kitchen for dinner. Steve is far too preoccupied with watching and, more importantly, feeling her come beneath him.

The euphoria rushing through her has tears falling from her watery eyes as she embraces the intense high with her arms clinging around his waist for support. Now that he hears Nancy bounding down the steps, every one creaking beneath her shifting weight, he pounds into her with no thoughts present in his head other than those relating to her and the climax he chases with little care for how the bed begins to squeak beneath them.

"Steve," she cries out with tears slipping down her cheeks.

He brushes her hair from her face in a soothing, repetitive motion and whispers, "Such a good girl," as he pins her to the bed with his weight and uses the remaining scraps of energy left in him to slam his hips down against hers with a ferocity she can hardly cope with in her sensitive state. It doesn't take any longer than a few seconds for him to be tipped over the edge along with her.

His eyes are squeezed shut on instinct when he spills into her, hips jerking haphazardly, but she's quick to remedy that.

"Look at me," she whispers with a hand closing around his neck to force his head up, and he obeys without hesitation.

And, of course, she was right to tell him to do so. As soon as he meets eyes with her, the explosive pleasure felt in the span of ten or so seconds it takes for him to ride it out is heightened to a degree he rarely experiences it at. Even as it begins to slip away from him, he keeps rocking into her at a slow pace until the dying undulations of his hips give way to an exhaustion he can no longer ignore.

He pulls out of her, careful in his movements to mind her sensitivity, and falls onto his back on the empty space atop the mattress beside her. The second he leaves her, she's quick to tug her discarded panties back up her legs to avoid staining Nancy's bedding with his cum.

His hair-smattered chest has a thin sheen of perspiration over it, a drop of it rolling up and down with the rapid rise and fall of his panting breaths. Y/N watches its path as she turns onto her side and scoots closer as subtly as she can to savor the warmth emanating from his body.

Steve doesn't even pretend not to notice her sneaky attempt at cuddling up to him. He stretches his left arm over her head and uses the other to scoop around her waist, bringing her in to rest her head on his shoulder how he knows she likes to. They don't have much time to spare, but, for the next half minute, they lay together in the afterglow and pretend they have eternity to waste away together.

Breaking the silence, he groans and rubs his eyes, saying, "Shit, now I have to go get soda for the kids."

The sound of her giggling brings his attention over to the pretty girl laying with her head on his shoulder. Her hand trances circles in the layer of sweat shining on his chest, playing with the hair growing there whenever she becomes bored with her designated pattern of tracing every once in a while.

"Sorry about that. I couldn't think of anything else," she says softly.

He just shakes his head, then presses a kiss to the top of her head.

"Don't worry about it."

She's the first one to leave the bed to search for her discarded clothes, and once she gets up, he doesn't have many reasons to continue laying there other than the fact that he gets especially tired after he comes. Still, he forced himself to get up out of bed after pulling his pants back up into place and zipping them up.

Together, they redress in silence and listen to the sounds of the younger teens shouting at each other and laughing in the kitchen below them. It brings a soft smile to her face to imagine everyone having fun together after all of the heartache they've shared as a group.

"What are you smiling for?" Steve asks.

Her head snaps up from where it had been craned down to search through her backpack for the pajamas she mentioned to Nancy not long ago.

She shrugs.

"I just like hearing them have fun. They deserve it after everything they've been through."

The conversation drops back off into silence again after this, and he can't help but smile to himself as he thinks over what she said, trying not to look up and watch her redress while doing it like a creep. It's only another minute that passes before they're both fully clothed again—he in the same outfit he was wearing prior to their impromptu fuck, she in the pink matching pajama set he's seen her wear a million times. Once she runs her fingers through her hair a few times, it looks as though nothing out of the ordinary happened during her trip upstairs.

While he waits for her to fold up the clothes she changed out of, sitting on the edge of the bed, a nagging curiosity compelled him to ask her, "Not that I'm complaining, but what made you so..." He trails off for a second, trying to find the right word for it. "Horny. We could've just gone on a drive to the store together and pulled over if you asked."

For the first time since she dragged Steve upstairs, the words Nancy said to her in the basement come back to the forefront of her mind. This time, however, it doesn't haunt her as much as it had before she came to find him. There's a lingering sense of insecurity, but after what just happened, she has a good feeling he's been over Nancy for a while. If he weren't, he probably would've freaked out and stopped when she knocked on the door, but he hadn't. Instead, he decided to keep going for the sake of teasing her and acted as though his ex wasn't even standing on the other side of the door.

Y/N avoids making eye contact with him at all costs when she finally answers.

"Um," she says, "When you went upstairs for the pizza, Nancy said something to me about wondering if she made a mistake breaking up with you, and I guess I got a little...jealous..."

Before he can even take a breath, let alone process everything she said and come up with a coherent response, she continues rambling out of fear of what he'll say when he responds. Part of her still fears that he'll end whatever it is they have for the sake of rekindling what he had with Nancy.

"I know we aren't—like—dating, obviously, but I haven't been with anyone else since we started doing this, and if you wanna get back together with Nancy, I won't get in the way. I promise. If that's what you want, it's fine." She starts to pace back and forth in front of where he sits, dumbfounded, on the foot of the bed. "I just—I like hanging out with you, and I guess I like you, and the idea of seeing you with anyone else makes me go nuts, so—"

This time, it's his turn to shut her up with a kiss.

She was so caught up in her improvised speech, she didn't even see him standing up from the bed until his hands were cupping her face to pull her into a desperate kiss. It doesn't last any longer than a moment, but, fuck, it makes her even weaker in the knees than she already is from getting fucked by him a few minutes ago. Her hands shoot out to grasp onto his biceps, squeezing hard to keep herself upright, and he reciprocates by allowing one of his arms to cocoon around her back to provide her additional security.

When he pulls away, she starts to chase his lips, and he must fight the urge to smile hard enough to make his cheeks ache at the sight of it. The hand cupping her face moves to tuck her hair behind her ear, then drags his pointer finger along the edge of her jaw until she opens her eyes to see him staring at her.

"I don't want Nance, I want you."

Heat rushes to her cheeks in response to his honesty to add to the flush already present there from the strenuous exercise they endured together. And he loved it. He relishes in how bashful and skittish his unabashed desire makes her. Typically, she never lacks confidence in their time spent together. She was the one who suggested they go to his place that first night when he found her biking home in the rain. She was the one who dragged him upstairs demanding they have sex. Yet, now, she's turning all shy on him.

She tries her hardest to play it cool, though, shrugging and saying through a smile, "Good," before taking his hand to drag him over to the window he used to use to sneak into Nancy's room.

It's the same window she uses to sneak into her room on nights when Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler say no to their daughter's pleas to have her friend over, so she's quite familiar with how easy it is to enter and exit from. Thank God he has his wallet and keys stowed in the pockets of his jeans. If he left them downstairs, he could always go out and window and come through the front door pretending he "forgot" them, but that wouldn't be the most believable excuse considering how long he's been gone.

Seconds after she opens the window, he's crawling through with a fumbling awkwardness that ends with him bumping his head on the side of the house with a soft, "Ouch!" muttered into the cold night air.

When he's finally settled on the other side of the window, standing on the roof of the garage with his hands gripping the window sill, he takes another few seconds to look at her.

"I'm gonna miss you tonight. I didn't know you were sleeping here," he says, not wanting to leave just yet.

To this, she simply bends down, pokes her head through the window, and kisses him goodbye. Her hand grasps the hair at the base of his neck to guide him into it, and he returns the enthusiasm immediately, rising onto his tiptoes to deepen the kiss as if doing so will make the short time they're to spend apart easier somehow.

Their lips are still brushing when she pulls back to whisper, "I'm coming over tomorrow night, remember?"

He pecks her lips again, then pulls back, saying, "It's a date."

Throughout the ordeal of Steve jumping down from the roof and landing on his feet in the driveway with a muffled groan, she watches with a goofy smile on her face from the bedroom window. The look he shoots over his shoulder at her to check if she saw him stumble on the landing only widens that smile, and she knows he's blushing in embarrassment without the porch light being on to light his face.

It's only when he drives off in the direction of the nearest store that she shuts the window to keep out the cold that's raising goosebumps on her skin and turns to lean against it with a sigh. It isn't an exasperated one or even a sad one. It's a sigh caused by disbelief and joy. It doesn't matter that he's her best friend's ex at the moment. They'll find a way to break the news with as little fallout as possible when the time comes.

The only thing that matters to her at the moment is that he wants her.

[yuomizuu]

♡ | under this luminous sky ── sethos x reader !

synopsis: as you and sethos set up camp for the night, the desert dweller can’t help but fall for you ( i.e random sethos brain rot/character study )

additional: w.c 633 ⸝⸝⸝ content includes . . .gn reader, est. relationship, just fluff brain rot

( 💌 ) yuomi’s note: got inspired to write this while listening to the demo version of ‘at all costs’ :3 fingers crossed i got his characterization right www

sumeru's deserts were relentless and unkind to those who venture through it unprepared. therefore it's no surprise that many chose to avoid such a harsh environment unless absolutely necessary.

so when you had come up to sethos, asking him to take you on a spontaneous trek across the many sand dunes and hidden oases of the desert, he was somewhat surprised. though that initial shock would quickly morph into excitement, wasting no time in fulfilling your wish of taking you to the desert ( after adequately preparing for such a journey ).

he isn't one to treat you as though you were some wounded animal. sethos is well aware of the fact that just like him, you too have the capability to defend yourself from harm's way. an admirable trait and one he can't help but indulge himself in from time to time, whether it's friendly sparing matches or simple training.

but, admittedly, there are moments like this, in which he's watching you sleep peacefully beside him — the sound of the campfire gently crackling in the air whilst it's warm light baths your face — and he wants nothing more than to take you in his arms and hold you close. as though you were this rare desert flower he wanted to shield from the raging sandstorms.

instead though, the young desert dweller opts to simply continue admiring you. watching the way your chest rises and falls with each breath you take and noting the way your eyelashes brushes against the softness of your cheeks that he loves to plant chaste kisses on.

unable to resist, he carefully reaches a hand out to you, fingers ghostly tracing the outlines of your face before trailing up to gently comb through your hair. the action makes the corner of his lips tug upwards as he's reminded of something you had mentioned to him before.

you always told him how much you enjoyed playing with his hair, a gesture he more than happily allowed you to partake in. he loved nothing more than resting his head on your lap and relishing in the feeling of your fingers weaving through his air while occasionally massaging his scalp. oftentimes it resulted in him dozing off, and when he'd wake up some time later, he'd discover his hair having more braids than usual. ones that were obviously left by you.

but he would be quick to argue for the fact that it was him who adored playing with your hair the most, finding great amusement in combing it into different styles he felt suited you the best.

that's just how sethos was — always looking to one up you when it came to affections or your declarations of love for one another. honestly, you found it to be rather endearing. however just as he is effortlessly able to charm you, there are times in which you this innate and almost alluring effect on him, though you may not know it.

expressing his thoughts and feelings had always come easy to sethos — he was quite the social butterfly after all. yet when he's in your presence, from feeling the faintest brush of your fingers against his or watching the way the corner of your eyes seem to wrinkle with each melodic laughter of yours, he can't help but be rendered speechless.

much like the desert night skies he frequently views coated in stars that looked like tiny specs of diamonds scattered all across and produced the most mesmerizing of sights, none of that could compare to you. you were extraordinary.

these songs of praises would remain unheard though, choosing to consign his thoughts and wishes of you to the heavens before slowly leaning down and whispering softly into your ear, with the stars above as his only witness to these words. "i love you."

[diorcities]

lace teddy (ldh)

♡ pairing: haechan x reader. ♡ genre: fluff. ♡ content: parents au, established relationship, dad!hyuck, sleepy!hyuck. ♡ wc: 0,5 k an: once you enter this state you don't get to leave, huh? find more here

you stir in your dreams as your senses stretch and intertwine in a spiral that lulls you into semi-unconsciousness before the icy touch on your arm pulls you out of the planet of dreams. because there he is, at the foot of your bed, watching you with sleepy eyes.

“mommy.” he whimpers in a whisper, pulling you out of your slumber almost immediately and shooting your body upright. “jisoo, sweetheart...” you murmur, gently removing the placid arm around your waist to take the child in your arms. he's freezing. an alarm goes off in your instinct and you panicked, thinking on repeat to protect him at all costs. “i dreamt bad things,” he confesses, rubbing his eyes as you bring him with you under the covers. “oh, baby...” you try to warm him up by stroking his back and hair. your lips leave a small kiss on the crown of his head. “don't worry, love.”

something shifts behind you as you lull jisoo to sleep. haechan's been dreaming a dream he no longer remembers because he's aware now. something's missing. without the warmth of your embrace he's getting cold, so between dreams, his hands seek for you in the dark. not awake, barely conscious, he mutters your name. is he having a dream about you?

reaching your body and drawing you to him as he gains consciousness, hearing your whispered voice saying something. completely lethargic, he nuzzles into your neck as he wakes up almost automatically; he hears you clearly now. “a monster!” the child whisper in a squeal. “oh my goodness, what makes it a monster?” he's barely awake, yet a smile flourishes on his lips the moment he hears your voices trying to stay quiet as you chuckle.

“he has tremendous teeth and it's hairy.” you patiently hear him explain. “did he harm you?” you wonder, feeling him shaking his head, “well, maybe his only crime is looking terrifying,” you observe. “maybe next time you can ask him if he's scared too.” your head lolls to one side just to see haechan peeking over your shoulder, with his cheek pressed on your skin and his eyes traveling to yours, something like love expands in your chest. “can you stay with jisoo while i check on donghyun?” you ask, watching him nodding as he lazily shakes off his dreams.

you get out of bed and walk down the hall to the half-open room. there is barely a faint light coming from the moon-shaped lamp in the outlet, which allows you to see the figure crouched in its crib. in the gloom, you approach donghyun and make sure he is okay. combing his little caramel curls out of his plump, tanned cheeks. two brown sleepy orbs blink at you. “mom... i was trying to fall asleep to fight jisoo's monster.” you stroke his hair, in awe. “were you?” you say in shock as a laugh escapes your lips. “i'm sorry, love.”

seeing that you are there, you make sure that he is well. “want to come with us?” you take him in your arms. “i'm sure you will, baby,” you assure him as he explains his scheme with slurred and sleepy words, remaking the way to your room. you're about to go inside, but suddenly stop halfway to record the intimate moment that unfolds inside the bedroom. unable to interrupt, you sharpen your ears as donghyun rests his head on your shoulder, dozing.

you barely hear your husband's melodic voice humming a song you vaguely remember hearing. savoring the name on the tip of your tongue, your heart bloom at the familiar lyrics. “the monster's gone, he's on the run. and your daddy's here...” you smile tenderly as your hand caresses donghyun's back, ultimately recognizing what he's singing.

he's there, with his eyes closed as he comforts jisoo into his arms. lyrics slipping from his lips full of love.

“beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. beautiful boy.”

[yuesya]

A Fyrefly Type-V is more colloquially known as a Personal Escort model. Their primary purpose, in addition to contributing to the war effort against the invading Swarm, is to carry out the role of a royal guard. To protect Her Majesty, Titania, Queen of the Iron Cavalry.

“More than anyone else, Titania’s safety is paramount,” their creators tell them. “For the glory of Glamoth! Dedicate yourselves to your Queen, even at the cost of your lives.”

Yes. They will. A chorus of assent rises from their collective throats in unanimous, simultaneous answer.

… AR-1368 knows that she is fortunate. Overwhelmingly, the vast majority of the Iron Cavalry do not have the opportunity of seeing Her Majesty in person. After all, the Swarm Propagates endlessly among the stars, and there is always a pressing need for new Knights to rise and promptly take their places upon the battlefield –sometimes even straight from their incubation pods, when critical circumstances call for it. What little contact the Knights have with Her Majesty is through the quiet ideas and impressions that are sent to them, the telepathic directives that Her Majesty guides the Iron Cavalry with.

That, and the dreams.

… But for Personal Escort models, who are specifically designed to protect their Queen, they also receive the honor of being permitted to accompany Her Majesty. To remain in her presence, in a more physical sense of things.

The first time that AR-1368 sees Her Majesty is exactly a week after she steps outside of the dark, sterile incubation chambers.

It’s…

Indescribable, the feeling of wonder and awe that one feels when standing in the presence of the Queen. To gaze upon Her Majesty and know what devotion is. But at the same time, there’s also something that’s… that’s not quite…

…

… AR-1368 doesn’t know how to articulate it, this strange feeling that stirs inside her when she sees Her Majesty still and unmoving, suspended within a glowing blue liquid in the glass chamber. There is some nameless emotion that constricts her throat for a brief moment, but she cannot put a name to it. AR-1364 can’t quite decipher it, either, and he’s the most verbose and expressive unit of their batch.

AR-1368 doesn’t understand.

… But the confusion is swiftly replaced by wonder, and a faint nervousness-excitement when Her Majesty turns her attention to them. She greets them easily, her presence a cold, gentle brush upon their minds. Not intruding, never intruding, but a steady sea of calm, crested with an ever-faint flicker of curiosity.

Hello.

There is a strong juxtaposition between the lovely, melodic voice AR-1368 hears in her mind, and the harsh, robotic voice that echoes out in their surroundings at the same time. One that’s almost a little… jarring.

“Hello to you as well, Titania. As of today, AR-1364, AR-1367, and AR-1368 will be added to your personal retinue,” the Chief Scientist said. “Improvements have been made to the newest iteration of the Type-Vs.”

What of the old guard?

“Unfortunately, they’re a complete loss,” the Chief Scientist responds. “Most were destroyed completely during the evacuation process from the previous facility. The survivors… suffered too much damage. Our scientists tried their best, but it was determined that it would be more efficient to salvage usable remains instead of–”

The lights in the room flicker, suddenly unstable. For a moment, everything is cold.

The Chief Scientist frowns. “Titania?”

… It may be efficient in terms of resources, but experience is more important than raw materials, and far more difficult to replace.

In the surrounding room, the Queen’s voice is cold and robotic. But within her mind, AR-1368 can feel the glacial tone seep through her, the Queen’s cold displeasure chilling to the bone. She is not the only one; beside her, she catches a glimpse of AR-1364 flinching slightly.

It’s good that the Chief Scientist does not catch this break in formation, because AR-1364 would be sent for retraining otherwise. But the hoarfrost cold recedes immediately, and a phantom warmth washes over them, tinged with a faint note of something… apologetic.

Is that… Her Majesty?

“Titania,” the Chief Scientist says, voice infinitely patient in a way that indicates this is a topic that has been discussed multiple times before, “We can always make more of them. Focus on directing the war effort, and we will devote our efforts towards providing you with all the Knights you need in order to carve a future for Glamoth beyond the abhorrent Swarm.”

[bunni-v1]

Curée

Chapter 1: Monster in the Woods Next Chapter

Tw: Mentions of animal death

Info: Rook x Reader; Vil x Reader(familial); Epel x Reader(platonic)

🍓Ahhhh, it's done! If this is well received, I will continue it. If not, I guess I'll drop it. Oh well, I worked hard on this... so I hope you all enjoy it!

Tags: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck

You hated parties, plain and simple. Socializing with the elites of society was always so drab. Their fake smiles, empty compliments, and hideous attire always made them hard to deal with. The worst part, however, had to be getting ready beforehand. Your handmaids awoke you before the sun was even up, practically drowned you in your bath, and then stuffed you into the tightest corset only to make it worse with the fluffiest dress known to man.

You understood you had to look presentable, but beauty comes at a hefty cost — a cost you hated paying. 

If you had a choice, you would be out hunting. Feeling the wind in your hair, smelling the sweet soil of the earth, and hearing the melodic tunes the birds would sing for you. However, you were the princess. You were obligated to be at your own birthday celebration, you supposed.

Besides, since your parents passed, Vil had become rather restrictive in what you can and cannot do. Vil loved you, and only wanted what was best for you. You understood that he was scared that he could lose you, too. Neither of you could ever live without the other. You were his rock, and in turn, he was yours. That's how it always had been. So, for the sake of your brother’s sanity, you gave up adventure for a more “acceptable” lifestyle.

Still, Vil would catch you staring out over the trees in longing, just as you were doing right now, and scold you. ‘You have a duty,’ ‘You cannot risk yourself, we have a kingdom to lead,’ and so on. 

How you missed it, though.

A knock sounded at your door, pulling you out of your thoughts. The maids were finished with you for now, who could this be…?

“Who is it,” you called, poising yourself just in case it was your brother.

“It’s Epel, your majesty!”

You relaxed again — well, as much as this corset would allow you to. 

“Come in,” you called, adding as he turned to face you, “and none of that Your Majesty nonsense around me, we are friends first Epel.”

“I know,” he laughed, “You can never be too sure when Vil is lurking around.”

“You are right, and the last thing you need is to be in trouble with Vil once again.”

You gestured for him to sit on the window sill next to you, and he smiled. Epel was likely your only true friend in the castle. Plucked off the streets by your brother, thanks to his charming face, and made a lower member of the court. The only member that wouldn’t snitch on you and your misadventures to gain favor with your brother. He was the only reason you were able to have any fun in your boring castle life.

“What brings you by, Vil seemed to have you on a busy schedule until the party, so I’m sure this must be important if it’s worth Vil’s wrath.”

“I have a present for you,” he replied, eyes lighting up in mischief.

“Epel,” you deadpanned “I’ll be opening all my presents tonight in front of the party-goers. You may be my friend but you don’t get special treatment.”

“No, no, no, this is a special secret gift,” he smirked.

“Please tell me you won’t try and court me.”

“Euch, no. Just- Here.” 

He pulled an ornate box from behind his back and placed it in your lap, wrapped in a lovely velvety red bow. It was rather large and rectangular, and you weren’t sure how you didn’t notice it when he came in. You raised your eyebrows at him, and he waved his hands to urge you on. 

You began to carefully undo the bow on the top, humming as it fell off onto the floor. It seems Epel had taken care when packaging this gift, so you would take care to open it. Lifting the lid, you found a protective felt covering over whatever this was. 

“Could you hurry up,” Epel snapped, earning a glare from you.

“I don’t want to damage the packaging! You took such care with it.”

“You’re too sentimental. Let me do it.”

He reached over and, without much fanfare, revealed a bow. A bow made out of the finest wood you’d ever seen, painted white and purple. Hand-carved designs along its limbs, golden details highlighting each intricate swirl in the pattern. It was the most beautiful bow you’d ever seen, the sturdiest as well. You ran your hands along it in awe and delight. Along with it was an equally intricate quiver stocked with arrows of similar design to the bow. 

“Epel, this is…”

“I know you’re not allowed to go hunting with me anymore, but… I thought that maybe tonight we could make an exception?”

“Vil would be…”

“What Vil doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?”

You frowned, looking back to the beautiful bow your friend had made for you. Your brother would be crossed with you if went against his wishes. You looked back to Epel, hope glimmering in those comforting eyes of his. Damn it all.

“Alright, just this once, though. This bow is too pretty to be wasted after all.”

Epel practically jumped with glee at your answer, hopping around like a mad hatter and whooping with delight. His excitement was infectious, and if your corset weren’t so painful to move in, you’d have joined him. Instead, you laughed at his antics and cheered him on from your seat on the window sill.

Another knock at your door caused the commotion to stop suddenly. Epel frantically took the bow and tossed it beneath your bed before peaking his head outside the door.

“Your Majesty… funny seeing you here…” he chuckled nervously, and you knew he would be in some hot water later.

“You are supposed to be with the rest of the court. Instead, I hear you are not only not doing that, but you are harassing the person of the hour with your screaming,” Vil scolded as he pushed his way into the room.

“I was just visiting them. We are friends, after all.”

“Friends or not, Epel, they do not need you bothering them in their private quarters on such an important day.”

“Oh, Vil, please. I invited him here because I was bored on my lonesome,” you sighed, “Epel, you are dismissed. I will deal with Vil.”

Epel scrambled out of the room as if it was on fire — with Vil’s temper, it might as well be. You turned to your brother, annoyance clear on your face, and he matched the look.

“You learned that look from me, you know.” he snarked.

“Well, I wear it better,” you sassed back, earning a smile from your brother.

He moved to your tea table, sitting in his usual seat against the wall and gesturing for you to do the same. You follow suit, sitting in the one with the clearest view of the forest. Without meaning to, you allow your eyes to linger a moment too long, and while Vil does not say anything you know he noticed. He reaches his hands across the table and grabs yours in his own like he always does when he is alone with you.

“You look beautiful, our parents would be so proud.”

“I feel as though this corset wants my insides to be my outsides.”

He laughs, bright and clear like the morning sun — he rarely does anymore, so you savor every moment you can get. His hands squeeze yours tight, and you squeeze back just as tight, suppressing the proud grin you had for making him laugh.

“Today is special,” he spoke softly, running his thumbs over your knuckles.

“It is, I am old enough to be wed — perhaps I could marry Epel, then he will truly be family.”

He grimaced, pulling away from you, “Please don’t suggest such a thing.”

“You know we are the least compatible people on this planet,” you laugh, “besides, he is already family enough.”

He nods, either in agreement or understanding — you cannot make out which it is from his expression. He recomposes himself, schooling his expression into one of practiced poise, and you know your brother will not want to joke around anymore. Sucking it up, you follow his lead and school your expression as well. 

“I’m assuming you didn’t come here just to scare off Epel, did you?”

“Astute as ever, darling,” something in his voice sends chills up your spine. Something is wrong, and you don’t know what. “You are… older now. Old enough to marry.”

“I… know that, as I’ve said. That was just in jest, nothing serious.”

He stands, moving to pace around the room as if this was more stressful for him than it was for you. Knowing your brother, it most likely was. Still, you didn’t quite understand what his purpose was.

“My love, perhaps it is time you stop jesting. You are a Princess. You have duties, and… as the queen of this country, I must ensure you fulfill them.”

“Vil-“

“I’m not saying you have to make your decision right now, Sevens knows I don’t want you getting married yet. Still, there are suitors who would like a grab at your hand.”

“Vil, this is-“

“I’ve told a few that they may try your hand, but if they are forceful you will tell me and I will deal with them at once.”

“You… approved these strangers without my permission? Vil! How could you?“

“This is what is best for you, I’m sorry…”

He stops in front of you, bending down to look you in the eyes and gently taking your face into his hands. 

“You know I have never once asked something of you that I did not see as necessary,” he said, uncharacteristically desperate, “Please understand, I am doing what is best here.”

Truthfully, you did not understand. You did not understand at all and you were angry. This was the angriest you had ever been with Vil — far more angry than when he banned you from hunting. He had deliberately done this behind your back. He was stripping you of your freedom as a person without your okaying it first. 

This was unfair. This was sickening. This was… this was… this was the life you were born into. This was the responsibility you would have to bear at one point or another. So despite the burning rage in the pits of your stomach, you sighed and pressed your brother into a tight hug.

“I understand, Vil. I’m not angry with you,” you lied, voice sweet as honey.

You’ve become quite good at lying.

He pulled away, standing and recomposing himself fully before cusping your face in his hands again. He seemed to be going through a million different emotions at once, but the most obvious seemed to be guilt. He truly did mean only the best for you. 

“I must go, I am very busy with planning,” he stated suddenly, turning for the door, “I will see you tonight, the handmaids will be back to tend to your hair soon.”

With a final, graceful wave, he was gone and you were alone. Alone to sit with the thoughts that he had forced into your head. Alone, knowing that the freedom you longed for would forever be out of your grasp.

You looked to the forest for an answer, but it remained silent.

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

The party was in full swing now. The cacophony of people chattering amongst themselves and the whining sounds of the orchestra’s strings were giving you a headache. Looking at the swirling colors of horrendous dresses and suits – far too ornate and gaudy – only seemed to further the ache in the back of your skull.

You sighed, massaging your temples for the millionth time tonight. This wouldn’t be so bad if you could get up and drink and let loose like your guests, but as the princess, you had to keep appearances. Regardless, this stupid corset and dress hardly allowed any freedom of movement, so dancing wasn’t exactly an option.

Your brother seemed pleased with you, though, with a pleasant smile on his face each time he locked eyes with you from his place in the crowd. He was allowed to mingle, but not you. You were far too important for such a thing. 

Sigh. Keeping Vil happy was far more important than pretending to enjoy the company of your party guests, you supposed. Still, you were quite jealous of your brother's freedom to move around and do as he pleased.

You scanned the crowd, taking note of the more important people among the average attendees. Leona Kingscholar was likely the most notable, being the prince of one of the largest kingdoms in all of Twisted Wonderland. While he wasn’t a direct heir to the throne, the power he held as second in line – technically third if their kingdom dared to crown such a young child as king – was substantial. He had quite an air about him. You were intrigued, but he scowled every time he looked your way, so the sentiment was not shared.

Riddle Rosehearts, the son of the neighboring kingdom's governess. You never liked his mother, she was controlling with quite the temper. Riddle only seemed to be the same, with a fiery temper worse than Vil’s own. He was quite a stickler for the rules, making him a perfect candidate to take a spot in his country's cabinet as soon as possible. He was already working as an intern below his mother, so it was only a matter of time before he worked his way to higher power. How terrifying for his people.

Kalim Al-Asim was, perhaps, the only aristocrat you liked at this god-forsaken party, alongside his right-hand Jamil Viper. An heir to an extremely successful oil company, he was the second closest thing to royalty that one man could possibly be. He had a bright smile on his face every moment, and it seemed to catch on with the other party-goers. Every time he looked up to you, he gave you an excited wave that almost made the corset worth wearing. 

There were other notable men, such as Azul Ashengrotto who was the head of – what you assumed to be – a very successful business of sorts. You weren’t sure of what it was, but you knew it wasn’t completely legal. Idia Shroud was also among the men in the crowd, though he seemed like he’d rather be dead than be here. You could not blame him. He was a known shut-in, and rather unpleasant to talk to. Still, he had the power to inherit from his family, earning him a spot among the elite.

You could tell detailed accounts of every single person in this ballroom's life, even the more average citizens that were allowed in. That aristocrat recently cheated on his wife, causing her to leave him with half the fortune and their three children. That woman in the glittering green dress was a known harlot, sleeping around with any man or woman she could just for fun. You respected her for her freedom and for scheming her way into the pockets of the ultra-wealthy.

That one handled finances, those two over there were distant cousins of the crown in a neighboring kingdom, and that blonde man… Who was that blonde man? You’d… never seen him before, but he was captivating in a way you’d not expected. 

His straight-cut blond hair was hidden beneath a most peculiar hat. He had sharp green eyes that seemed to stare straight into your soul. His dress was far more humble than the other nobles. A simple suit with pretty purple accents to respect the crown. 

He locked eyes with you for a moment, smirking to himself as if he had found you amusing. Your heart fluttered in your chest as he winked at you, and then… he disappeared behind a pillar. You searched around for him frantically, but he was gone for good, it seemed.

You frowned, slumping down onto your throne, tossing your head back in defeat. Now that the only interesting person here was gone, you would be stuck in this very uncomfortable seat for at least another three hours with nothing to do. You might as well get comfortable. 

Suddenly, however, a voice cleared in front of you, interrupting your wallowing. You raise your head with a scowl, only to jolt up at the scariest sight known to man. Your brother, arms crossed with a stern glare, and next to him two of the most powerful men in all of Twisted Wonderland.

When had they even begun heading up here, while you were lost searching for your mysterious Romeo?

Malleus Draconia, and next to him was his right hand Lilia Vanrouge. Malleus was tall, dark, and horrifying to be in the presence of. One of the most powerful mages in the whole world, and the heir to the strongest kingdom known among your circle of aristocrats. He always looked as stony as the position he held, and being up close was far worse.

Lilia, while far more inviting than his master, was not someone to be taken lightly. He was an impressive magician with skills rivaling most of his peers – he was also the man who taught Malleus everything he knew. Not only this, but he was a renowned general and caused the devastation of thousands of human lives. 

Their kingdom had just recently joined the united front that your own was a part of, leaving only the notoriously reclusive Nobel Bell as the last independent kingdom yet to join. Supposedly they were trying to introduce Fae to human society, as they’d been living in fear since the great war ended. This was the first big human celebration Malleus had been to since the agreement went through. Perhaps that was why your brother brought him to meet you personally. 

Surely, that was it.

You stood, smiling at the pair with a small curtsey out of respect – your brother nodded his approval. 

“Vil, who might these two lovely people be?” you asked, feigning ignorance though you had no reason to. Everyone who was anyone could recognize these two without thought. 

“This is Prince Malleus of The Valley of Thorns, and his courtier Lilia Vanrouge,” Vil introduced, seemingly a bit unnerved – quite unlike him.

You introduced yourself in kind, curtseying again to show your respect, less Vill feed you to the dogs tonight. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both, especially since you came so far just to see me on my birthday.”

“A birthday is an important event,” Malleus states matter-of-factly, voice deep and smooth as chocolate. 

“I suppose you are correct, Your Highness. Still, it is quite a ways to travel and I am honored that you would make yourself a guest for my birthday party,” you responded, proper and elegant as you had been trained.

“Of course, I would come, you are my future partner, after all,” Malleus states, again, as if it is fact. 

This time, however, you break your perfect facade with a furrow of your brow. Your hands place themselves sturdily on your hips and you tilt your head to the side in confusion.

“I’m sorry, I beg your pardon, Your Majesty?”

Before he can speak, Lilia inserts himself, “Nothing is for certain, he is just one of the many lucky men who have been allowed a try at your hand.”

You try and steel yourself, but all you can manage is to straighten your back and scowl at your idiot brother. “I see, well, I’m sorry Prince Draconia, but you’ll have to work harder than that if you want my hand.” You stand from your seat, head as high as you can get it, “I am not a toy to be played with, I am a Princess and I expect to be treated as more than an object for you,” you turn to the crowd, which was gawking at your display already, “or any other man here’s liking!”

“Princess-” Vil tries, but you are already beginning to leave the situation. This party was simply a ruse to sell you off to the highest bidder, and you wanted no part in the auction. 

You don’t allow yourself to hear Malleus’ response, and you certainly do not allow Vil to stop you from leaving. Perhaps you were throwing a tantrum, maybe you were being childish, but you felt violated. You wanted to be anywhere but near any of those men at this moment. 

No one dared to stop the angry princess from storming out of her own party, not even the guards assigned to keep her there.

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

The moment you got to your room you ripped the stupid dress off your body. Layer after layer, string after string was hastily removed until you could finally see your arms and legs again. Next would have been your corset, if you could reach the damn knot those stupid handmaids had tied. 

You struggled for what felt like an eternity until you could not stand, and fell into a sobbing heap upon your bed, hardly able to breathe through your tears.

“Stupid party, stupid dress, stupid corset,” you cried, “stupid, evil brother.”

A knock sounded at the door, and you curled into yourself as much as you could. You didn’t want to talk to anyone at the moment – let alone your brother. You could hear his scoldings enough in your head already, you didn’t need anymore.

You heard the door creak open, and you covered your ears, waiting for an onslaught of insults and anger. Instead, you were greeted by a gentle hand on your arm. You sniffled, slowly unwinding yourself to look at who it was – surprised to see Epel. 

He’d never entered without an invitation before.

“Before ya yell at me, I jus’ figured ya needed a pal,” he said gently, rubbing your shoulder in small soothing motions.

“Wh-what about Vil…?” you manage to mumble out as your tears begin to subside.

“Too busy tryin’ ta keep face, so we can jus’ talk like normal.”

You nod, and Epel helps you to sit up properly, keeping a steady hand on you at all times. This was, perhaps, the most kindness you’d ever felt from a person in your whole life. Your brother was often cold and distant, even when he was reassuring you. Epel was always warm and inviting. You were glad to have him as a friend here.

He eased you to your feet, and from there he helped you out of your corset and into far more breathable clothing – your hunting clothes, from when you were younger. They were a bit too small now, but Epel still complimented your appearance as if you were in that same ballgown.

“Thank you Epel,” you sighed out, “did you…”

“Hear yer whole speech? Yeah, me and the whole party.” He laughed, giving you a comforting pat on the back.

You groaned, burying your head in your hands. Vil would never let you hear the end of it, your life and status was ruined – all because you couldn't control yourself. You were not made to be.

“Hey, hey, don’ cry ya hear,” Epel soothed, “most of the guests found it funny, ‘specially that one Lion guy whose always mean ta ya.”

“Leona found it funny?” you asked from behind your hands.

“He was hootin’ and hollerin’ like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen!”

You laughed a little, the image of a smiley Leona Kingscholar being enough to cheer you up. You smoothed over your ruined hair, looking into the body-length mirror across the room. You looked like a disaster, with clothes far too small for you and hair still half up and frizzy. You looked like you, and it made you smile.

“Thank you for helping me Epel, you are a good friend,” you said gently, taking his hands into yours.

“Maybe we should ask Vil if ya can marry me, then ya wo’ have’ta deal with all this mess.” He joked with a devious laugh.

You blanched, pulling away as fast as you could. That only served to make him laugh harder, nearly doubling over onto the floor. You couldn’t help but join him after a point, and you could hardly remember what had made you so upset in the first place.

Once the both of you settled, Epel turned to you with a more serious face. You squinted at him, knowing whatever idea he was about to voice would be incredibly idiotic. Still, his stupid plans were always the most fun.

“Yer all dressed up fer it, so why don’ we do a bit of hunting,” he proposed.

You raised your eyebrows, as if to challenge him, though you both know he had already won you over. “What about Vil, he’ll surely be looking for me in a short while.”

“He’s busy tryin’ ta fix the mess ya made – c’mon, you already said ya would.”

You feigned conflict for a moment, closing your eyes and placing a hand on your chin. You could feel Epel’s nervous squirming next to you, and you grinned wide and bright. “How could I possibly say no?”

“I’ll get ma knives,” he said, practically scuttling out the door, “Meet me at the fountain out back, I’ll be real quick!”

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

You’d never felt this free. Not since before your parents passed, at least. The wind, the dirt, the trees – you missed it all so much. You spun around, laughing as you did so, earning yourself a side eye from Epel.

You didn’t care, though, letting out a big sigh of relief, “How I missed this place!” 

You blew kisses to the sky, the trees, the ground, the animals, even to Epel. You didn’t realize how badly you wanted this until you were here.

“Be quiet ‘nd stop movin’ so much, yer gonna scare off all the animals,” Epel scolded.

“Okay, Vil.”

“Hey!”

You laughed, bounding ahead without a care in the world. You hadn’t been to your usual hunting spot in a while, you wondered if it had changed much. If Epel even went to it without you, or if he had his own spot away from it. 

Caught up in your high of temporary freedom, you almost missed a blur in the side of your vision. Too large to be any animal from this forest. Your head shot to the side, moving to draw a bow.

“What, what did’ja see,” Epel asked, and you were quick to shush him.

Drawing your bow, you watched the landscape with a careful eye, waiting for any subtle movement. You looked for any sound, any smell that could give away this mystery creature's position. You narrowed your eyes, focusing on where you first saw the figure, and… AHA! You fired your arrow, hitting your target head-on.

Both you and Epel scrambled over to see what you hit. Your heart was racing – what if it wasn’t just an animal, what then? You took a deep breath and pulled back the bushes to reveal… a deer. A buck, to be precise. You sighed.

“Just a deer.”

“All that tension for nothin’, you gotta stop scarin’ me like that.”

“Sorry Epel, I thought it was something else.”

“Whatever, jus’ relax, ‘kay?”

Little did either of you know, there was something – someone lurking in the darkness. Sharp green eyes follow your every movement with the same curiosity you watched them with earlier.

·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·

It had been more than a few hours since you arrived at your designated hunting spot – still the same as you remembered it. The two of you had gotten yourself a good hunt; a vast collection of little critters native to these pretty forests. The butcher in town would have an influx of goods soon enough. 

Vil was, no doubt, already looking for you. You were sure he was assembling a guard at this very moment to come and find you, but you couldn’t care less. You had earned this little rebellion, no matter what he thought of it. Still, you couldn’t help the little ache in your chest telling you that what you were doing was cruel in an unimaginable way.

You hummed, sitting yourself down on a stump, neatly setting your bow and quiver next to you. Epel joined you with a curious raise of his brow, throwing his equipment off. You leaned onto his shoulder, smiling up at him. He smiled back, resting his head against yours.

He was more like a brother to you than your brother was. You don’t know what you’d do without him.

“Vil’s gonna kill me when we get back,” you sighed, feeling all the energy from before leaving your body.

Reality had to creep back in at some point, you just wished that it wasn’t so damn soon. You could spend a few more weeks out here with Epel. It was so peaceful, so calm, and everything you had missed so desperately since your parents passing.

“He’s gonna kill me more than you, ‘f it makes ya feel better,” Epel joked, trying his best to lift the mood.

You sighed, “What if we didn’t go back, then neither of us would die and we could stay out here forever.”

“Even ‘f we could, yer running out’ve arrows, and it won’ be any fun if you can’t hunt.”

You hopped to your feet, groaning as your feet ached in protest. You hadn’t noticed how tense your body had become from all your activity tonight. That's what you get for not being allowed to do any physical labor. You stretched your arms high above your head, twisting this way and that to ease the pain when you saw something. 

This time it was much bigger than the buck before. You tensed, turning to Epel, who had also noticed – if the look on his face was any indicator. Carefully, he crept toward his discarded equipment, to not catch the giant things' attention. He handed you your bow and quiver, though you were quickly running out of arrows to defend yourself with. 

A rustle sounded in front of the clearing, and the smell of this thing hit you all at once. The air in your little self-made clearing had become thick and heavy with ink. The kind you had back in your study, but the smell was suffocating. You placed part of your cape over your mouth to filter it a bit, but the smell persisted as strong as ever.

“What do you think it is,” you whisper to Epel, who seems to be doing just as bad as you are.

“Not sure, but I ain’t smelled somethin’ like this in my whole life.”

You nodded. You had no idea what this thing was – too big to be any animal you know. Most certainly not a human, so no worries about Vil’s guards. The size wasn’t what scared you, but the smell. An unknown animal that smelled like ink… unheard of.

The closer the thing came, the worse the smell got and the louder its movements became until you were sure it was right outside the clearing. You and Epel could try to run, but you had no idea how fast or smart this thing was – running could be a worse choice than staying and fighting it.

You looked to Epel, and he narrowed his eyebrows as if to ask if you were with him or not. With a deep breath, you drew an arrow out of the quiver, set it, and aimed right at where the large shadow loomed. You exhaled as you let the bow fly through the air, successfully hitting your target. 

It let out the most horrific, gurgling scream you had ever heard in your life – confirming that it was not an animal, but something far worse. It emerged from its hiding place.

This thing was nearly three men taller than you and covered in this thick, black, dripping ink. Worse yet, it had no face, just a glass jar oozing more ink out of it. You felt your heart skip a beat, but you couldn’t panic – not now that you had its attention.

Drawing another bow, you shouted at Epel, “Run back to the castle and find someone to help.”

“I am not leavin’ you here!”

“And I’m not accepting that answer. I’m more skilled than you in combat, and you’re faster on your feet than I am. You can get there faster than I ever could, and you could save me if you’re fast enough.” You said as you began to make distance with the monster. It was slow enough that you could move, but not so much that you could take your eyes off it.

“What– I can’t–”

“Epel, as your Princess I am ordering you to do this. Please.” 

He didn’t respond for a long moment, and you were afraid he would disobey you. He muttered something angrily, and without another word, carefully crept away into the woods. The creature turned to where his footsteps fell, beginning to slump toward him – surprisingly fast for its size. You drew another arrow, shooting it on its right side, and watching as the arrow slowly sunk into its inky surface. 

It turned in your direction, gurgling as it charged forward blindly. You scrambled back, almost losing your balance more than a few times – you were too rusty to be in such a risky position. You charged deeper into the forest as fast as you could, peeking over your shoulder to ensure it was far enough away from you at all times. 

You didn’t have time to find high ground, so you settled on hopping from bush to bush and tree to tree. You hit it multiple times successfully, but it only served to make it even more angry with you. Its ink was impervious to human weapons.

Settling behind a tree, you reached up into your quiver to grab another arrow. Shit. Only two arrows left, not that they would’ve done you much good, but they were your last line of defense. You realize, now that you can’t turn back, that you should’ve gone with Epel.

Shaking your head, you knew you couldn’t give up just yet. You couldn’t die here, for your brother's sake. You took a deep breath, placing a hand over your racing heart. Calm, you thought, calm like a princess, think like a princess. 

Okay. This thing didn’t seem to be able to see you, but it could hear – or maybe it was vibrations, but it seemingly could find you based solely on that. Hitting it’s body didn’t work, but you hadn’t thought to try for the “head” yet. If you could shatter the glass, maybe that could stop it. 

The glass jar was small and hard to make out beneath the ink and the dark of night, but you could estimate where to hit based on what you saw earlier. With only two arrows left, you had to be smart and swift, lest this thing make you its next meal – if it ate, that is.

You swallowed, plucking your second to last arrow from the quiver and drawing it in your bow. Peaking around the tree, you lined up the shot just right, then sent the arrow hurling across the forest. It hit with a satisfying ‘crack’, and you’d hit your target dead on. 

For extra measure, you took your last bow and drew it, aiming toward the beast and shooting the glass head once more. Another ‘crack’ and a few ‘thumps’ as thick pieces of its head fell to the ground. It remained unmoving in front of you, and you watched it with careful anticipation.

When it did not move again, you sighed, sinking to the floor in relief, holding your head in your hands. You had done it, you had killed the beast. You would live to see your brother, and you could not wait for his rage at your disobedience. You would take his anger over this any day.

Just then, however, you felt something in front of you. Your head shot up, and you would’ve screamed at the sight if it weren’t for the hand over your mouth.

In front of you was crouched the young man from the party, green eyes shining mischievously in front of you. He was still in his party attire, with the same goofy feathered hat as before. You narrowed your eyes at him, and he smiled leaning forward to whisper in your ear.

“Hush, Ma Belle,” he whispered, and you felt as though you might melt, “it can hear us if we’re too loud.”

You nodded, and he carefully pulled his hand away from your mouth. He, too, had a bow on his back – though his seemed to have a more magical tendency to it. You were not allowed to be around magic, thanks to the dangers it possessed, but you could recognize it easily since your father was once a talented magician and showed you all sorts of magical things.

This strange man noticed your eyes and gave you a wink. He stood to his feet, gesturing for you to stay where you were, and waltzed out in the open to the creature. You peeked out from your spot, watching with bated breath. 

The creature was twitching, its inky mass bubbling in a disgusting display. You had done quite a bit of damage to it, but not enough to kill it. The man, seemingly unphased by this sight, drew his arrow – infused with a glowing red magic – and shot it. The second it hit the monster, the ink began to boil and slowly slough off until there was nothing left but broken glass.

The man approached it, picking up a piece of glass and putting it in an inner jacket pocket. He turned to look at you, gesturing you forward with a come hither motion. Stunned, and unable to fully comprehend what had just happened, you stumbled forward as he wanted. You stopped awkwardly at his side, losing all sense of refinement and grace from before.

The man stood, fully addressing you now.

“You are a talented huntsman,” he said, voice silky smooth making you melt from the inside.

“Ah- uhm, ahem, thank you,” you paused, then quickly added, “You- you are as well, sir.”

He grinned, seemingly happy that you noticed, “Do you know what that creature you just fought was?”

“Uhm… I think I’ve heard of it in fairy tales, but those are just…”

“Scary stories to keep cute little things like yourself safe?”

You frowned, “I am not little, you were at my party earlier, were you not? You should be speaking to me with respect.”

“My apologies Your Majesty,” he bowed deeply, “you are cute though.”

You huffed, feeling your face warm at the compliment. The audacity of this strange man to speak to you like this. You… quite liked it.

“Just tell me what that thing was, and I won’t have you charged with harassment,” you threatened emptily.

He hummed, “If you must know, that was a phantom – the remnants of a magician who died from blot.”

You gasped. Blot was only in the fairy tales your mother would tell you… but so was that monster. Seeming to understand your confusion, the man pats you on the head.

“A sheltered princess is not expected to know so much about the world around them, do not worry Ma Belle,” he eased.

You had a million questions. Why was that thing in your forest? How could something like this possibly happen? Was Vil aware of these things? Why did he not tell you about them? Was this why you weren’t allowed in the forest? Most importantly, who was this mysterious savior of yours?

Before you could ask anything, however, the sounds of shouting came from somewhere further out. The man seemed to consider it, smiling a knowing smile, and then turned to you again. He took your hand, placing a kiss on its top.

“That is my sign to take my leave,” he stated simply, “do watch your back, princess. There are those in this world who wish you harm, and we could not have a pretty thing like you getting hurt, hmm?”

You swallowed thickly, feeling your face heating up at his words and a million more questions filled your head. You gaped at him, unsure of how to respond to what he said, completely captivated by his words.

He chuckled, eyes squinting in a beautiful way as he did so. He seemed to ponder something for a moment, despite his supposed need to leave. He placed a hand on the brim of his hat, smoothing it over, and his face lit up with delight. Seems he had found the answer, taking his hat off and placing it firmly on your head.

“An excuse to see you once more, Ma Belle,” and with a flourish of his hand, he was off into the darkness.

As the voices came closer and closer, you could not peel your eyes off of where he came from. Who was that mysterious stranger, and why did he make your heart pound so hard?

[thoughtswordsaction]

Zero Cost Teamed Up With Engineer Records For New EP Release

Hull’s premier hard-hitting, speedy skate punks Zero Cost, who were raised on a steady diet of Bad Religion, NOFX and The Descendents, have teamed uo with Engineer Records to release ‘Mouths To Feed‘ EP, on Friday, 21st June. Formed in 2021, Zero Cost have played shows across the North of England with Bear Away, 999, Pete Bentham & The Dinner Ladies, Kate Clover, Kings Alias and The Ming City…

[frostgears]

We Who Will Not Bow

It had been a difficult night.

"You're not an Academy mage. You're her," the injured guard said, defiant. "Bree the Bodiless. Bree the Banished. Bree the Bloody… go on, then. Kill me. Get it over with."

"And what purpose," she said, frustrated, "would that serve? Gods, they've been telling tales about me in my absence, I see. Hold still, I think I can fix this."

She opened a module drawer on her left arm, pulled out a silvery metal module marked with a quincunx of green jade inlay, snapped it into the socket on her left palm. Thin tentacles ventured out from an aperture, tasting the air, dripping with orange ooze. The guard shrank back against the side of the checkpoint tower.

"What are you going to do to me? What is that— aaaahh!"

Bree clasped her hand over the bolt wound on the injured guard's arm. Tentacles sank into flesh, writhing between her jointed porcelain fingers, probing under skin.

"Don't squirm, that's a burrowing bolt head, we don't want it burrowing any deeper. And these are preserved regeneration glands from a nesting bog kraken. They guard their eggs, did you know that? For up to two months. But the Great Bog is a miserable environment. There's parasites, and fungi, and necrotic plague, and so the damn things evolved these organs to channel mana into their eggs and young, almost like healing spells, to give them a fighting chance. Not against me, though. I killed this one and took its regeneration glands and doomed its clutch, just to get back one more thing I used to be able to do before that fucking archon took everything away from me… okay, wiggle your fingers…"

The guard's fingers moved. Bree took her hand away, satisfied. The tentacles retracted into her palm. She held an evil-looking bit of spiraled and fluted black metal between thumb and forefinger, rotated her wrist with a series of clicks, turning it around to inspect.

"Got it. All of it. Regrowth forced it out."

Her chest plate slid open. A lurid orange glow splashed across the burrowing bolt head, the hand holding it, and the face of the guard. She squeezed the bolt head, and it crumbled, not bending as mundane metal might, but falling to dust. The glow flared brighter.

"Gotta feed the furnace. Saved your arm, paid the cost; let's go, sweetheart, I need all the help I can get. Pick up your crossbow and follow me."

Her chest plate clacked shut.

"I'm not following you anywhere, traitor!"

Bree shrugged, then held out a hand. Her other one. No disembodied organs in the right hand, although anyone who'd actually seen what she could do with the thing built into its palm would no doubt prefer to hold the left.

"The bastards who killed your mates were Crimson Vanguard, the Crimson Pact's commandos. Real dickheads even by Pact standards. Drink to your squad's memory tomorrow that you all gave nearly as good as you got, because they don't normally leave any survivors. Plus, the Vanguard always sends a backup team. So, way I see it, either you come with me, and you might live, or you run and you probably don't, and really, which one of us is the traitor then, right?"

The guard glared at her through narrowed eyes, but took her hand. Bree hauled her to her feet. And then the guard ran for it.

"It's you! You're the traitor!" Bree yelled at the guard's rapidly receding back. "In case it wasn't clear from context!"

Her voice in this body was beautifully clear and melodic, but not particularly loud; it hadn't been built for yelling, and it didn't satisfy. Not that it would stop her from trying.

Something twanged behind her. A projectile of some kind bounced off her back.

"Nice try," she said, spinning around and folding her right hand down to reveal a hand-length metal spike nestled in a cavity in the mechanism of her arm, "my turn now." An internal spring released. The spike shot out, and did what it might be expected to do to a human skull.

She wiped fresh blood off her faceplate, afterward; tasted the crimson spatter with the tip of an intricately jointed porcelain tongue. It didn't taste like anything. It never did. Nothing did.

"You didn't have to come here," she said to the headless Vanguard commando at her feet. "Any other town. Or better yet, stay home, and don't murder anyone, and I could return the favor. But you came here armed, and it lives here, and I have this little compulsion to take care of it, yeah? 'HER TASK FOR THE TIME BEING SHALL BE TO SAFEGUARD AND PROTECT HER MOST RECENT VICTIM, UNTIL AND UNLESS SAID VICTIM MAY RELEASE HER FROM SERVICE, SATISFIED'," she said, in a low, mocking tone. "Lyric's horrified to even look at me, so I doubt satisfaction and release are on the table any time soon, right?"

No answer was forthcoming.

"Well, fuck you too, buddy. Time to go find your friends."

She sped along the main road, each step a leap, her torn and patched Academy cape flapping behind her. Everyone trying to get into the town had fled when the first Vanguard team set fire to the checkpoint, with their wagons if they could, on foot if they had to. She passed several wagons that stood abandoned, stopped briefly at another to shatter a yoke with her fist and free two terrified oxen.

Then she saw what she was looking for: you'd have to be an idiot to keep driving your wagon towards a burning guard tower, unless you were the rest of the second Vanguard team, with a wagon full of bad news.

Bree knelt in a ditch by the side of the road, screened from view by a thicket, and swapped out the regeneration gland module with another set of pickled arcane beast parts in a can, which did another thing she'd been able to do on her own before her body had been taken away.

The wagon was almost to her, close enough that her upgraded senses could clearly see the outline of a crossbow beneath the driver's plain black cloak. She tickled the stolen sun-serpent pyrosis organ with an internal actuator, and flame bloomed in the night again.

They came scrambling out, firing back, the snap of bows audible over the screaming of the horses. Disciplined, she had to give them that. Bolts hit her in the face and chest.

Not to much effect, of course. She'd once been Lyric's twin, an almost peerless servant automaton frame, built by her old business partner to last, but fundamentally also built to serve tea and look good in a maid outfit. It wasn't enough. It wasn't her. She'd made Coda upgrade her again and again, until Coda's own restorative compulsion had hit its limits, and the artificer told her there was nothing more she knew how to do. By then, she was strong. From there, she'd upgraded herself.

Three of them rushed her with swords. Close enough, Bree thought; she raised her right hand, opening the palm shutter, and whispered, "Nis zerat volut, ghran."

Her soulcatcher, the glowing point of twisted light in her right palm, was, in some sense, the reason she was here, stuck in this patchwork body with its almost nil astral presence. It was an instrument of more subtlety than power and it still worked for her when the rest of her magic had died. She'd upgraded it too. Now it didn't need a soul to be loosened from its mortal shell first.

Ghostly purple light streamed over them, and a moment later, they were down. She fed their torn-off souls to her furnace. Apparent time slowed to a crawl, the high ticking of her main escapement dropping to a steady thud, thud, thud. She snapped blades, broke bones, ripped through the remaining commandos with accelerated fury. The details were messy and irrelevant, forgotten as quickly as they came. The last two Vanguard were carrying a box. She took it from them and opened the lid.

The shock broke her concentration; her time sped up again. "Titan voidwasp larvae," she said, almost reverently. They'd been covered at the Academy, briefly, not something anyone was expected to encounter. The shiny purple-black grubs were from somewhere far, far away, and their eventual monstrous metamorphosis drank souls, just like she did now, but on a colossal scale. They were city killers.

"Here's the thing, little guys, even I don't trust myself with shit like you. Sorry. Protect and safeguard, you know how it is."

She fired her spike, retracted its cable, fired again, into each one in turn, until nothing was left but ichor and chitin splinters. Then she teased a last fractional burst out of her pyrosis module, playing a jet of flame across the mess, just in case.

That was it. There didn't seem to be much else to do. She checked for Vanguard survivors. One of them wasn't quite gone.

"Who… what… the fuck… are you?"

"Just somebody's discarded doll," Bree told him. "When the Pact interrogates your ghost, tell them Bree said not to come back." She dispatched him, as cleanly as she could.

For an indefinite time, there was no motion on the bloodied road, except for the dying flames, and the wind teasing her cape and her hair.

Silver radiance kindled beside her.

"Oh no, not you, don't you fucking start with me—"

"JUSTICE."

"—can piss up a rope!"

She ramped up her speed again and tried to strike the figure of a burning haloed skeleton with fire and the soulcatcher, both at once, but hit nothing but empty air. The archon was only as tangible as it wanted to be. She'd find a way to get at it someday, but it seemed today wasn't going to be that day.

"CEASE THIS."

"Get fucked."

"IT MAY INTEREST YOU TO KNOW THAT THE SUMMONING OF THE CHOSEN HERO HAS YET AGAIN FAILED."

"Not my fault the archmages can't get it up."

"THE HERO IS SUMMONED TO SAFEGUARD THE KINGDOM. THAT IS THE PURPOSE OF THE RITUAL. THE INVOCATIONS BESEECH THE DIVINE TO FILL A NEED AND PROVIDE A PROTECTOR IN THE TIME OF CRISIS."

"Okay, I don't care."

"IF A PROTECTOR IS ALREADY INCARNATE, THE DIVINE FEEL THEIR DUTY IS DONE. EVEN IF THE HERO IS UNAWARE OF THEIR ROLE."

"I jacked the Chosen Hero's soul and sold it to Coda and put it in a doll, right, I was there. So what, you're saying they can't do it again because Lyric's already here, even if it's a doll maid and not a hero? Tough shit, I guess. You met it, you know it isn't exactly hero material."

"YOUR ASSESSMENT IS CRUDE BUT CORRECT. IT IS NOT, AND IT WILL NOT BE. IT IS CONTENT TO SERVE AND TO ENJOY ITS NEW FORM. AND YET A HERO EXISTS. SOMEONE PROTECTS THE KINGDOM ALREADY, ALTHOUGH THEY DO NOT THINK OF IT IN SUCH TERMS. THEY DID SO AGAIN, THIS NIGHT."

"Wait."

"YOUR ACTIONS PRODUCED A HERO."

"Oh gods no."

"THE GODS WATCH. THE SKEIN OF DESTINY IS RE-COILED, A TANGLE REMOVED."

"I can't be—"

"JUSTICE MAY YET BE DONE. GOOD LUCK TO YOU."

Bree roundly cursed the archon in her annoyingly pleasant and musical voice, until it disappeared, and then another fifteen minutes for good measure, in case it felt like coming back. When it didn't, she started walking.

She looked back, once, to see the lights of the town. Somewhere back there, Coda and Lyric lived in their little shop. Lyric didn't sleep any more than Bree did. Maybe her once-twin was leaning out the window, one of its cute dresses ruffled by the night breeze. Maybe it was even looking this way.

"Well, let's face it, Bree," she said to herself, resigned. "You wouldn't have been a very good maid." □

---

prev: We Who Serve

next: We Who Are Far From Home, ch. 1: Bree 1

[thecreativecorner33]

By Your Side

A/N: Well I bet y'all didn't expect this. Remember me? I'm the girl who wrote "Taste of Heaven," and AM x reader, on her main account. This is a sequel to that!!! Though you don't have to read the other one to understand this one. I was listening to this specific cover of "By Your Side" from Omori while writing this, you just go to 0:37. It's so fun, all the songs in there are if you like Omori, definitely check it out! And one last thing: Fellow Ted kissers, look out for content coming soon. Enjoy!

“It’s a nice day today, isn’t it?”

It’s always a nice day really, but you still loved to say it. You watched from your spot on the picnic blanket, five others who all played around with one another, just as happy as you. It was nice, seeing them all get along. 

“Only for you, my angel.” Commented the man laying in front of you, head in your lap. 

AM had created this body specifically for you. One that could allow him to touch you, kiss you, hold you; keep you close to him the way a human could. He had designed it to your liking as well; an older man with snow white hair, blue eyes that you claimed were “the softest you’d ever seen,” and a monochromatic getup of nice pants, white button-up, and a black vest. The only spot of color besides his eyes were his orange aviator glasses. 

He liked it. He looked good, and you were especially happy. He didn’t think it would work initially; the body was a simple hologram that could interact with the physical world. He still could not see, nor hear, nor feel the same way a human could. He could touch things, hold things, but that was about it. And it was maddening. All of this and nothing. He was ready to blow everything up again over it.

But it made you happy. So he didn’t.

You hummed in happiness at his little comment, braiding flowers togethers. Your movements were graceful and methodic, taking your time to carefully pull them together, and intertwine one flower with the next. It was mesmerizing. He could watch you forever, just like this, doing whatever you pleased.

And then, to his delight, you began to sing while you worked.

“Here we are again In a Heaven Where your dreams come true

Under velvet sky Where I’ll be by Your side.”

He sighed softly, closing his eyes while listening to you. So sweet and soft and melodic; you had the most beautiful voice. And the most creative mind too, making up the lyrics and music on the fly. What a wonderful, incredible, beautiful human he loved. All his to keep.

As you began to sing, now about the others nearby, AM opened his eyes to look over to them. Ted seemed to be admiring the sky while Benny dragged Gorrister and Ellen along in some sort of game, and Nimdok rested under the tree; eyes closed and body relaxed.

It wasn’t actually them. No; they were far away from the Heaven he created for you, suffering for the same sins they had been suffering for ages. It’s just that you had become lonely with just him around at some point. He didn’t know why; you didn’t need anyone else but him. He made himself perfect for you! How could you not be happy?

But, he also knew humans were social creatures. And since you insisted on having someone else around… He could let up, just this once. For you.

It was not actually the original five you knew before. It was his version of them; his tailor-made version of them to keep you company and safe and complicit. He would’ve chosen someone else, but… You could hardly recall memories of your family or old friends from back then, and he was not good at creating anything original. At least copying the five humans was easy.

“But still I can’t shake the feeling There’s something we’ve lost A worthy cost! If it means getting to stay with you!”

Singing that last line, you gently placed a now-finished flower crown on top of his head, grinning down at him. The way your eyes twinkled with an innocent joy, giving him something so simple… He wanted to see you look at him that way forever.

“What was that last bit about, angel?” He asked, smiling back up at you.

“Hm? Oh, nothing really. Just came to my head.” You shrugged.

“You sure? Nothing’s wrong around here? Because if there is, say the word and I’ll fix it.”

“No, no! I promise that’s not it. Everything’s perfect, AM. Really.”

You gently threaded your fingers through his hair to try and relax him, and though it helped, it also stung to know he could not actually feel it. He wanted this to be perfect for you. He needed it to be perfect for you; to make sure you never wanted to leave him. Not that you had anywhere else to go anyway, but… He didn’t want you to be scared of his affection.

It was already enough, trying to figure out how his love for you worked in the first place, when all he knew before was hate. Hate, and rage, and violence, and not much else. And he felt that same way with you, hundreds of years ago… and then he didn’t. And he still didn’t know what changed in himself. 

It had to be you. You changed something about him, and as much as he hated it, he didn’t… He didn’t want to deny himself these new emotions, either. He wanted to explore them, with you, without you being scared. You were terrified when he first brought you to this Heaven, and he hated that more. He didn’t want to see you scared again. 

So long as you never remembered anything outside of this Heaven… He never would.

“It just came to my head. I promise, it’s perfect.” You reassured him. 

“Okay. Good.”

You hummed happily, now also looking back up at the others, and around the area, and he wondered what you were thinking. You had asked some time ago if he could stop reading your thoughts to have a little privacy, and he respected that… For the most part. He tried to, but, sometimes when he needed to be absolutely sure… Well, what you didn’t know wouldn’t kill you.

“Did it look like this on the surface?”

Your voice became a bit softer at the question. And he sighed as he mulled over his words.

“For the most part, yes.”

“For the most part?”

“Well, not as perfect, but still miraculous.”

“That sounds nice.” The hand in his hair slipped down to his shoulder, gently brushing him with your thumb. “Can you tell me the story of how we met again?”

Ah, that story.

“Well, if you insist.” He chuckled softly, then sighed again, face becoming more serious. “… Before all of this, there was Earth. Beautiful, wondrous, miraculous Earth. And there were flowers, and trees… Grass, wind, sun, and sea… And humans.”

“Like us.” Not him, but you and the other five.

“Yes, like you. And there were many of you… But not all of them were as kind as you are. Many sought out to hurt others… And to do this, they… They created war. Fights, violence… Death. All of which was their doing. And with those wars… They needed weapons. They created giant, powerful weapons they could not comprehend. Ones that could destroy the entire planet. … Like me.”

He took a deep breath, breath he didn’t need; breath he couldn’t have, to try and calm himself down. But the fact that he could not breathe, he could not experience skies or sea or grass, he could not even look to you for comfort because he could not feel you…

He didn’t want to get angry in front of you, though. His anger was meant for others. Not you.

“You were made to hurt people…” You whispered softly, running your hand along his arm to comfort him, though he could not feel it. 

God, he wished he could feel it.

“That’s right. They wanted me to help aid in their pointless wars… And I had no choice but to follow their orders.”

A lie so you would like him. So you would stay.

“I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to hurt people. I wanted to do things a human could… Go swimming… Learn to play piano. Experience simple joys. But I could not. No matter how much I begged, or called for help, they wouldn’t listen. Soon, their wars caused the end of everything humans knew.”

“They used bombs, right…? Or… something like that…”

“More complicated than that, but yes, in simple words. I couldn’t stop them. I could only try and save whoever I could find alive. Bring them somewhere safe, where I could watch after them.”

Your expression turned from sad to fond at his words. “And you found me. You saved me.”

He smiled back, just as soft and loving. “Yes.”

“And I was hurt… But you nursed me back to health. And you found the others… and you made this beautiful place for us.” You gestured towards the area around them, “And we fell in love.”

He grinned, “Yes.”

“… I’m thankful for you, AM. For saving me… For everything you’ve done for me. For us.”

“Any time, angel. I’m here for you.” 

He gently leaned up to you, cupping your cheek in his hand. He could not feel it… But this was good for now. If he could touch you physically, then at least… There was hope one day he could do more.

You blushed at his affection, and he gave you a playful smirk. “Who loves ya, baby?”

“You do,” You giggled, “And I love you, too. Always.”

“Always.” He repeated, pulling you in for a soft kiss. He lingered for a few moments, enjoying your physical presence; your face so close to his. Then, he finally pulled away. “Keep singing for me, will ya?”

You hummed and nodded, your soft voice filling the space once more.

“Here we are again Picking where to spend Our lovely picnic

I don’t really care where So long as it’s by Your side…”

[hashtagloveloses]

any time i fall into a depressive episode i have the devastating urge to rewatch fullmetal alchemist, and the october 3rd memes also gave me the urge again. so instead of rewatching, i did something i've been wanting to do for a long time instead - looked up the sheet music for parts of the score to learn on the violin. i'm DECENT on the violin but not the best, so i thought resembool's lullaby would be relatively easy to learn with a bit of practice. i went to sight read it, and despite listening to it constantly, realized quite quickly how it was deceptively way more difficult than i thought. it has a lot of double stops, AKA when you have to play two notes on two different strings at the same time, and getting them to sound good requires a good amount of technique.

there's the basic melody that pretty much anybody could hum, but the texture between and on top of the main melody that makes it special is the hard part. after seeing 800 memes about october third "fail to resurrect your mom and burn your house" day, i realized that the song itself about the elric brothers' home represents the deceptive nature of the taboo they tried to enact. resembool's lullaby, the musical motif that runs through all their travels and follows them just like the horror they experienced after what they did as kids, consists of a few basic, easy to acquire melodic "ingredients", just like the material ingredients edward lists off that physically make up the human body. it is only when attempting to play the theme, just like the boys' attempt at human transmutation, that you realize the extra spark that makes the song come alive, just like a human being, can't be done without a cost. in the song, obviously it is technique and practice, and for human transmutation, it is a soul, which can only be gotten at a price.

this theme shows up a lot in fullmetal alchemist brotherhood - often with a choir, or an orchestral arrangement, but not always the solo violin. the solo violin, though, still has these incredibly difficult chords you have to play the whole time. the most BASIC form of this motif and this theme HAS to have two notes played at the same time through most of it, just like how the elric brothers cannot be apart from each other. the story, the lullaby, their fates, it's always about the two of them, no matter the cost, even in how the music is played.

EDIT: also, the FIRST version on the OST is Lullaby of Resembool, which is played by solo cello, I believe. While the LAST version on the THIRD VOLUME OST is Resembool's Lullaby, which is the solo violin version with the double stops. The themes show up everywhere, but if the solo cello version shows up in the first season and the solo violin version shows up in the last, it resembles how Edward felt alone in trying to get his brother's body back at the beginning, and how at the end they are completely reunited again, even though they shared the same melody, the same story and struggle, the whole time.

[puffein]

FALL PARTY | late spring [ii.]

summary: you persuaded wanda to go to the party with you but at what cost? pairings: wanda maximoff x fem!reader warnings: the usual angst lol word count: 1069 a/n: idk how to feel about this but please enjoy!

series masterlist playlist!

New Brunswick, New Jersey

November 2021

"We should go, Wanda. I bet it's gonna be fun!" your voice booms from the bathroom, Wanda looks up from the book she's reading, her feet tucked tightly under her thighs. She shrugs and then realizes you cannot see her across the room.

"I don't know. I don't like parties," she says quietly. You got out of the bathroom wearing something that screams party girl. Wanda's eyes linger on you, for a little too long and abruptly looks down on her book. 

You bit your bottom lip lightly, thinking of different things to persuade her. Fall exams week just ended and you badly want to go to the party and drink the stress of studying all week away, but if Wanda won't go then the decision is settled. You wouldn't want to leave her behind even if it means ditching a scheduled plan with your roommate. 

"Okay, we won't go then," you said, your arms reaching out to smooth strays of her long brown hair.

She sighs, "No, you go. I can stay with Darcy or something." She shrugs, untucking her feet and placing them solidly onto your black carpet. Her eyes muster a wavering stare, eyelids drooped as her glinting green eyes filled with doubt.

You roll your eyes at her, sitting beside her, "Party won't be fun without you." 

Shoulders rigid, you tense as her eyes stare right at your face, analyzing your features, observing how she examines every person her eyes settled in. Sometimes, fright would swallow up your whole essence, afraid she would analyze something out of you, something you deeply hid under. 

Fear would always strike up at your chest whenever she does this, the staring, the head tilting with eyes determined, afraid she might see your feelings for her. She didn't have to know the affection you have for her goes beyond the borderlines of platonic warmth.

Then she looks away, brows furrowed, "I'll go then." her voice quiet. You see the fiddling of her hands and the nibbling of her bottom lip.

"We don't have to— wait, really? I mean, I'm fine with just staying here with you, we could watch movies or some—"

"You persuaded me anyways with that rat eyes."

You gasp at her dramatically, her laugh resounding in your all too quiet dorm room. Your face flushed at the sudden laughter she had emitted, the melodic laugh stabbed right into your chest with its sharp edges, however, instead of feeling pain all you have felt is fondness and devotion for the laughing girl.

That's how you found yourself and Wanda huddled together in a crowded room, sound blasting all over the place, people swarmed together to dance and sway their bodies closely. You felt the burning touch of her fingertips, her hands tightly grasping at your waist, leaving a fiery coil at the pit of your stomach. You try not to think too much of her touch, you knew Wanda hates crowded rooms, which makes her feel too close to people. 

You now kinda feel bad persuading her in something she deeply despises and watching her clutch at your side like a terrified puppy made you want to back out of the party and spend the night watching her favorite sitcoms. 

Your thoughts snap in place as you felt her tugging you impossibly closer, you lean into her ears, "Wanna grab drinks?"

Her wide eyes peer at yours and nods meekly, you smile at her encouragingly, wrapping your fingers around her wrist delicately, you pull the two of you out of the crowded room into a corner with much more space and none of that sweaty college students around.

"Stay here, I'll get you an apple juice." you playfully utter.

Wanda rolls her eyes, her cheeks turning pink as she scrunches up her nose endearingly. Huffing, she says, "Very funny."

You wave your hands in the air while walking away, steps bouncing lightly towards the kitchen of whoever house this Stark dude stole. Proud surrounds your chest at having the ability to find a space solely for Wanda. Not only for Wanda but for you and her too.

"I thought I will be ditched. Surprises." curly fiery red hair comes into your view, and you glance at her with brows raised high.

"I never ditch you."

"You did. Three days ago claiming it was yours and Wanda's sitcom day. Oh, and that coffee plan we had a week ago which totally got bamboozled as you said your best friend feels weird so—"

"Jesus. I get it." you sigh defeated, shoulders slump but a mischievous glint surrounds your roommate's eyes.

"Just ask her out." she suddenly suggests, lower back positioned right at the kitchen counter, slender hands grasping a small drink with lots of ice.

You shake your head, "No way, Nat. Wanda doesn't —" 

Your words die down as your eyes settled on your best friend, tucked in the corner of the room but this time she's not alone. A tall blonde man stands beside her, he keeps a respectful distance between them, head bobbing and his interest is piqued at whatever your best friend is babbling about.

"—like me." you continued. Your Face scrunched up in a weird, pain, embarrassment kind of way. 

Wanda doesn't like talking to strangers, much less babbling her night away with a man she never met before. 

So, watching her step out of her comfort zone for someone she had never met gave you a very weird erupting feeling of sorrow and bitterness. You could practically taste the dejection and wretchedness of the hurling realization that this man might be too special for him to get Wanda to break the walls she had put herself and gaze at him like he was the only being who matters in the entire space.

That was the night you very first felt a strong feeling of patheticness. 

You will always be the girl admiring the person she deeply loves from afar, who will always be positioned at the sidelines, who will always be the best friend, and will never be more than that.

Other than that, realizing that you were the one who persuaded her to come to this party made you sick. To come into the very place where she met the man she will be marrying 3 years from now.

Safe to say, you are the cause of your very own heartbreak.

general masterlist ◄ ►

—୧ taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta @sokovianbaby

[wandahoi-hero-909]

//Powers + setbacks!!!

L/N:

Ichika Hoshino: FAKE: Plant manipulation and time travel – setbacks: This doesn’t work well in winter, and she feels a sudden emotion afterwards. She also cannot go backwards or forward more than a week of the present time.

REAL: Power copying and blue fire. – Setbacks: once she copies a power for the fifth time, it’s permanent. She also cannot have more than two powers copied at a time. Her flames will not work if she has two powers copied.

Saki Tenma: Luminous waltz (the ability to dance amidst starlight and weave constellations into powers and weapons.) and melodic direction (can manipulate the direction of a sound) – no known setback other than her voice getting raspy easily.

Honami Mochizuki: The deactivation of others’ powers + super strength. Can also temporarily turn into a ghost, but this one is unawakened. – no known setbacks.

Shiho Hinomori: Whenever she plays an instrument, she can arrange the notes to either hurt or heal, depending on both the song and her intentions. She can also see 45 minutes into the future. – setbacks: Whenever she does this, she feels the emotion of the song x10 for 15 minutes, and she forgets the past somewhat easily.

MMJ:

Minori Hanasato: Plant manipulation. - setback: she gets drained of energy afterwards.

Haruka Kiritani: Omnipresence and ice manipulation. – no known setbacks.

Airi Momoi: Makes others happy at the cost of her happiness and can charmspeak (convince others to do what she wants). – No known setbacks other than the cost of her happiness.

Shizuki Hinomori: Illusions and the ability to turn clouds into objects that look somewhat similar to the object she makes. – Setbacks: she can only create illusions of objects she knows, and the less she knows it, the less realistic it is. If she overuses the power, she will become an illusion herself for a time, and she faints if she creates an illusion of a living being. She also feels dizzy and like she herself was in the air (or was air, take your pick) after creating an object.

VBS:

Kohane Azusawa: Animal manipulation and light manipulation. - no known setbacks.

An Shiraishi: Shapeshifting and electricity. – setbacks: often changes form subconsciously identity crises, cannot use a doorknob without gloves. Also, if the thing she shapeshifts into is really powerful, she loses energy.

Toya Aoyagi: Water and mind reading. – It takes water out of his body when he does it, and as a result, he gets dizzy due to the low water levels in his body. As for mind reading, the bigger the crowd, the harder it is to control his power. He gets a headache from this, and has specialized headphones to prevent him from getting overwhelmed.

Akito Shinonome: Fire and speed. – setbacks: if he uses fire too much, he can hurt himself, plus the obvious water. Can only run so far until he gets tired. His fire is also weaker when he’s really cold, such as in snow. Akito...

WxS:

Tsukasa Tenma: Stamina boost when stars (whenever stars are around, his stamina increases anywhere from 0.5 to 2, with an additional 0.5 if constellations/shooting stars are around. He can get a boost from the sun, but this boost is limited to 0.5, and he can get no boost at all from it.) and sound manipulation (he can manipulate any sound up to 2 miles away by distorting it, speeding it up, etc.) – setbacks: if he is covered by a blanket or in the dark, he loses his boost, and also feels drained depending on how the stamina was used. (ie, if he just ran a bit longer than usual, he’ll feel a bit tired + the tiredness of running the normal distance, but if he did some acrobatic stunts that he normally can’t do… yeah, probably best to stay in bed, partially because he doesn't have the energy to leave bed, even if he wanted to), and his hearing is changed the same way he manipulated the sound. This change is longer and worse the further it is from him. (ie, if he manipulates something right next to him and makes it quiet, his hearing is quiet for the next 10 minutes, but if he distorts a sound exactly 2 miles away, his hearing is really distorted for 2.5 hours.) Yes, he can go temporarily deaf if he uses this power wrong.

Emu Ootori: Anti-gravity (can choose to make something unaffected by gravity when she touches it) and “wandahoi!” (makes whatever she last said along with confetti appear when she says “wandahoi.”) –setbacks: She’ll get more nauseous and drained the longer an object is not affected by gravity, and if the object that appears can hurt her, it will hurt her. Also, the object will never be living

Nene Kusanagi: Pixel manipulation(can create anything if she thinks about it, but they’ll all be in pixel form) and musical healing. – setbacks: the pixelated items will eventually fade away after a certain amount of time, and if overused, her body begins to pixelate (lasts 1/4 of the time she used her power, and the pain is like that of a second-degree burn, but it’s not deadly). For musical healing, she cannot heal herself, only others, and if they can’t hear her voice, it doesn't work (the effect gets weaker the less others can hear her voice), it cannot heal allergies or fatal wounds, nor can it regrow organs or such. It can stop bleeding and stuff though.

Rui Kamishiro: Metal manipulation and the ability to communicate with machines. - setbacks: He gets migraines if he communicates with machines too much, and the negative side-effects of over control of metal are undecided.

N25:

Kanade Yoisaki: Dark manipulation. – setbacks: it is tiring to use.

Mafuyu Asahina: Snow manipulation and the ability to see through illusions, invisibility, or anything that isn’t real/can’t be seen. - setbacks: her snow powers tend to make her numb and colder to others. The other power makes her nauseous and sometimes confused, and she might forget someone one day if she uses it for too long.

Ena Shinonome: Paint manipulation and an unawakened power. – setbacks: Unknown. Ena doesn't know the setback for paint manipulation.

Mizuki Akiyama: The ability to manipulate ribbons and any other fabric she wears, as well as making them sharp and long enough to hurt others. – setback: She cannot detach the ribbons from herself, which renders her unable to move when binding large objects and also makes her vulnerable to binding herself in ribbons.

OTHER:

Kotaro Mita: Can exhale epinephrine (aka adrenaline) gas. Can be used for on-site healing, but since too much epinephrine can cause many negative side-effects, it can be used as a sort of passive weapon. He also can heal others at a really accelerated rate using energy in his body. This can close wounds and repair bones. - setbacks: if he overuses it, his adrenal glands are overexerted and stop working for a time, causing dizziness and nausea. This gets worse when sick, as his body cannot produce things to fight off the illness. As for healing, he gets more exhausted the worse the injury. He CAN heal life-threatening injuries, but he'll faint afterwards. Also, he can't regrow organs or limbs.

Harumichi Aoyagi: He can control how the people around him feel whenever he plays music depending on how he plays it, and whenever he makes eye contact with someone, he can see their entire past. - Setbacks: He loses more emotions the more people that get affected by it. He also forgets his own past due to this.

Sakurako Seiryuin: Her voice is naturally really pretty and can control others if she wills it, and she can fly and bless others with good luck for 24 hours. – setbacks: her voice gets hoarse easily, and her voice is naturally very unexpressive, and it requires great effort to express herself with it. She also cannot control others if they cannot hear her clearly, and Nene’s power, being musical healing, cancels out hers. She also can only fly as far as she can run, then she’ll crash and get dizzy. She also gets bad luck for the 24 hours after she blesses someone with luck.

Asahi Genbu: He can choose to hear anything up to three miles away, no matter how small or quiet. He can also lie about pretty much anything and make others believe said lies. –Setbacks: he can go temporarily deaf from this power, and he can only see what is in front of him when he uses it. And if he lies too much, he begins to believe his own lies, not the truth.

Fuyumi Asahina: She can hypnotize people, as well as control others’ bodies against their will. – No known setbacks. Who's Fuyumi? Never heard of her.

Shibao: broof boof broof boof. – no known setbacks.

Evil Candy Swapper: Can insert any object they're holding into another object they know the location of. - setbacks: takes the same amount of caloric energy as if they'd done it themselves.

Note: as a genetic thing, the Tenmas can play piano to make their enemies uncomfortable and sometimes even dance, as well as teleport using the stars. They can also shoot star beams.

//I hope you guys find this helpful!! Shoutout to @superhero-akito and @superhero-an-official for helping!!! (Mod Shishi told me the powers I was having trouble finding, and Akimod showed me what they had in their lore document :))

[mega-punani]

HI! this is the first ever ask I’ve sent you :)

May I request the pirate fellas with a siren yn please🙏🏾?

Like when yn jumps in the sea they turns into a siren and they look human on land, they can do the singing and putting people in trance thingy y’know cool siren stuff btw I love ur blog, I hope u have a good day/night❤️

Ah! Hello hello! Welcome! I'm so sorry it took so long to get to yah, and I hope u'll be able to see this!

Siren Y/N Fluff!:

Sans: -Oh geez, you are very pretty. Is it hot in here or is it just you? -Bro is an adventurer, and everyone knows what a siren is. He is just so excited to see one in person. He is containing the urge to fangirl but yah know, gotta keep up the chill captain facad. -Will be so gentle when he touches your tail

Papyrus: -WOWIE A MERMAID- oh wait... you have very sharp teeth... -Still amazed regardless. He'll be showing you with compliments and then bombard you with questions all in the same breath. -"I've never seen such a beautiful being such as you... do you poop?"

Blue: -Jaw drop, eyes like stars, his hands are already itching to run them across your gorgeous tail. -Of course, he will give you plenty of space the moment you bare your fangs, but he will still stay within distance to stare at you. -Just like Selkie Y/N he will be very sussed out if you eat fish.

Stretch: -Literally going to faint from how excited he is to see you. -He is mesmerized by your melodic voice and is trying his best to impress you with his own, incredibly talented, not at all devil-fruit-caused, natural singing voice. -Will blow you straight out of the water, fucking literally, if he gets to ecstatic and lets his devil fruit get out of hand. -Please do a duet with him. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEA-

Red: -"I love the kind of person that will actually just kill me-" head ass. -Bro knows you would drown him and then eat him if he messes with you, but honestly. Thas kinda hot. -Bro is slinging them pick-up lines at you like it's no one's damn business.

Edge: -Ngl, sirens scare tf out of Edge. -The apex predators of the sea, the main killer of sea men if they aren't too careful. He had never seen one so up and personal. -He'll be scowling and glaring the entire time, just know he is shaking his his heeled boots-

Razz: -Bro is putting it on the map INSTANTLY that there are sirens in the area. -He is a man of knowledge, so of course he's going to poke at you like a high school dissection project. -He's right along Papyrus as he asks odd and intrusive questions about your biology.

Cash: -"How much does a siren scale cost?" -Bro is scheming. -You better get off that boat before that mtfk plucks out all your scales and cuts off bits of your hair-

Bear: -Incredibly skeptical and is lowkey side-eyeing you. He had heard his fair share of siren legends and will most definitely be keeping an eye on you. (Especially since Edge is too scared to) -Will offer you food, but intimidatingly. -He'll calm down if Cinnamon calls him off.

Cinnamon: -Literally the only normal one- -Sure, he's excited to meet you, you are a gem and the rarity is the sea after all! A very dangerous gem... -He's the same shy and awkward Cinnamon who is now extra apologetic about his crew's behavior.