#Mesmerizing rendition

[mathewbaron]

Rangi Sari Gulabi Chunariya Cover | Mesmerizing Bollywood Melody 2023 | #Rangisari

🎶 ❤️‍🔥 Rangi Saari featuring Anjali Dhoot & Soham Nagchowdhury. Listen to this love sequence of traditional thumri, symbolizing love and all its playful mischiefs with our beloved🎧✨ Experience the magic of the iconic 'Rangi Sari Gulabi Chunariya' like never before! Our mesmerizing cover takes you on a journey through the enchanting world of Bollywood melodies. Immerse yourself in the captivating blend of traditional and modern sounds as we pay tribute to this timeless hit. Let the vibrant colors of music fill your heart and soul. 🎶✨ #rangisari

[justplaggin]

" " existed in a sterile bluish-black darkness. there was no up or down, backward or forward. even the flow of time was ambiguous. " " had no idea who it was or why it was there.

- fifteen phase xx + translation

[dubioushonour]

VERY strong cover of mesmerizer that came up in my reccomendeds

[endless-ineffabilities]

the only intermission (Ewan Mitchell x f!reader)

a/n: this is a direct result of my wishing that Ewan would do a play here in London so I can watch him. So, here you go <3

main masterlist ▪︎ previous part

You and Ewan share a moment during intermission.

The play's intermission is under way, with twenty minutes of reprieve for the actors and the audience. Bethany had gone to the bar to grab a drink with Harry, and somehow, to Ewan's obvious delight, he was able to corner you out in the foyer.

The two of you stand at a semi-secluded spot away from the main doors, clear of the passage into the theatre.

"So, what do you think of it so far?" Ewan leans against the wall, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, and hoping you didn't notice that he kept shuffling closer to you.

There had been a two-foot distance, which became one, after he said something along the lines of—Wait, I can't hear you, say that again?—even though you are well away from the bustle.

And now, his arm is close enough to brush against yours as you respond, "I really enjoyed it. Emma's absolutely brilliant! I mean, the whole cast is amazing, but Emma's a standout for me."

"For me as well," Ewan agrees. He's mesmerized by the way you beam in enthusiasm.

"I wanted to ask you if you've ever done a play? I think you would be really good at it!"

Ewan feels the heat rush to his cheeks. "Really? No, I haven't been in a play yet—"

"Well you should!" You touch his forearm lightly. For but a second. He wishes you hadn't let go.

"Should I?"

"I wouldn't lie to you, Ewan," you say, smiling and tilting your head. Is this flirting?

Can you do it some more?

"If you say so." He tries to match your tone. "Will you be there to watch me when I do?"

"Am I invited to press night?"

Either his own desires are fooling him, or you shuffle closer to him this time.

"You'll be front and centre, darling."

You nod in appreciation. "Well, I would be honoured. You know, if they do another rendition of Romeo and Juliet, you should go for the part of Romeo."

He laughs lightly, and before he can stop himself, he blurts out, "Only if you would be Juliet."

Your face contorts in apparent confusion. "But... I'm not an actress."

His smile drops, thinking that his attempt at flirtation flew right over your head.

"No, darling—" he stammers. "I, I just meant—"

You throw your head back, giggling to yourself. "Ohhh, you make it too easy!"

He can't help but join you, the trill of your shared laughter echoing in your little corner of the room.

"You're mean," he clicks his tongue, his voice lowering.

"Hmm. So do you still want to take me out?"

You most definitely move closer to him. He sees it clearly, and he mirrors your motion, gently brushing his fingers along the side of your face.

There is a moment of static, electrifying tension. His eyes are drawn down to your lips, which part slightly.

But it all dissipates when the usher's booming voice cuts through, announcing that the play is to resume in five minutes.

You sigh. "We should head back inside."

No. Not yet. Would Bethany be cross with him if he asks to switch seats so he can be close to you for the next hour?

He feels silly—he can't even wait until after the play.

"Hold on," he says, grabbing your hand when you start to turn away. "I do still want to take you out."

"Oh," you smile sweetly. "Great." You glance around quickly, likely checking if Bethany already went back inside. "We'll talk after the play?"

"Yes, please, darling," he exhales, giving your hand a squeeze. Why can't plays have hour-long intermissions? Maybe you wouldn't be averse to just walking out of there and having that date way sooner than expected.

There will be plenty of other nights to watch the play anyway.

"Come on," you tug at his hand, tilting your head toward the entrance. "Time to go, handsome."

You hold on to his hand, and a shiver runs down his spine, your touch sending a surge of warmth through him.

Your skin feels so soft. And you called him handsome.

As you merge back into the crowd, shuffling toward the doors, he leans in close. "You know," he whispers, "when we go on our date, there won't be any intermissions like this."

"You won't need a break from me? I can be annoying, you know," you tease, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckles softly, his gaze holding yours. "I think I can handle it, beautiful."

You blush, lowering your head. He feels pleased with himself.

He continues, "Besides, I have a feeling you'll keep me on my toes."

On his toes, on his knees, on his back—whatever position you want him in.

Oh, he's going to hell.

[countdykulaa]

﹟ ⠀ ⠀ 𝟎𝟎𝟏 ⠀ . ⠀ ⠀JUST A LITTLE BIT COLDER⠀ ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ⠀ ❪ ⠀ obsessed! reader x dark! sevika ⠀ ❫

synopsis: despite all your efforts, you can't help the deep one-sided obsession you've gained with the dangerous criminal. you spend your days chiding yourself yet inevitably succumb to the temptation of contacting her when the desires becomes irresistible.

cw: dom!sevika, masturbation, pathetic and i mean p - a - t - h - e - t - i - c reader

the phone rang , echoing in the sterile confines of your apartment . you remain under your sheets , your nightdress raised until it comfortably lay on your stomach . you knew sevika was a busy person , always running around the city her family practically owned , but the femme always answered. it was as if she sensed the pathetic desperation you felt on the phone before even rising from her sheets in the morning.

"hello?" her voice was cold , a common fact that never seemed to steer you away.

the sound of your heart racing pounded through your ears. your chest rose as each tension soaked second passed. "hi, sevika."

a frustrated sigh crackled through the line . "you again? why don't you bother someone else ? im tired of this game."

your grip on the phone tightened as your hand moved dangerously low. "I just … I need to hear your voice."

It had started as mere curiosity, a perverse fascination with the woman responsible

for not only controlling the city you inhabited all your life but successfully evading law enforcement. she resided in the shadows , very few knowing where she was , but everyone knowing what she was capable of. you, being the homebody you were vagualy heard of her through word of mouth whenever your relatives came to visit. overexaggerated fables on all the unspeakable sins she'd committed spoken with a passion with each passing day. she was almost akin to the boogeyman in everyone's eyes. you thought it was ridiculous. one being have such power on peoples imagination. if the city you occupied wasn't fairly busy you'd chalk it up to be nothing but boredom that slithered its way into peoples lives and donned them the role of gossiper.

it's only on a random thursday that you decide to pay more attention to your aunts third rendition about the enigmatic woman instead of flipping through your book for the tenth time that evening. you blame her mesmerizing storytelling skills for the way it draws you in and hooks you. you count that mundane evening as the beginning of everything. she goes on and on about how sevika and her clan basically own the street wherein she lives , never heard or seen but always felt and a part of you slowly hungers for more information.

you spend your days , hunched over researching about her when you weren't at work , fantasizing about her. you obsess over her known locations , comings and goings and aliases shifting through any public records you could find on her. eventually you shifted from public records to gathering the information from means you never even dreamed of . your soul is not satisfied , demanding to know more and more about the woman until your social group dwindles to yourself and the chirping birds outside your windows. the continuous researching only fed your obsession with her until it grew a mouth of its own and ate away at the rest of you until your existence revolved around the beguiling image of her.

she embodied the epitome of your aspirations , a presence you yearned for earnestly . each time you closed your eyes , she materialized before you , only to linger in your consciousness upon each awakening . to say you yearned for her would be to say you yearned for oxygen. the boundary between your identity and hers blurred indistinguishably. it was only a matter of time before your obsessive desires overpowered your slipping sense of rationality.

evidently her number finds a home in your phone. obtained from a random employee of sevika's who owed you a favour. it had only taken you a few weeks of dedicated planning and nonstop delusions , but you had done it. you never plan on calling her, but the mere fact that a piece of her however minuscule it may be is in your possession makes you want to celebrate.

in the dimly lit living room , empty bottles and a half - filled wine glass clutter the coffee table . the faint hum of the tv provides a backdrop to your erratic thoughts . your thoughts , like always center on sevika. what she was doing , wearing , how she’d possibly react to you , a stranger being this pathetic over a mere idea of her . you doubt she has a kind bone in her body and yet that doesn’t stop your hand from finding its place under your sweats and black panties .

you don't do much more than tease yourself , softly dragging your fingers up and down your lips before finally settling on your clit . you're usually pretty dry at first but your ongoing thoughts and the liqour coursing through your frame gets you a little damp.

the alcohol has more control over your limbs than you'd like to admit as you turn your gaze to your phone . in your drunken lust-driven haze a desperate thought runs through your mind . you need to call sevika. just to hear her voice , fantasize about all she would say to you . why else would you acquire her number ?

your fingers trembling as you call her, unable to focus on anything else but the forbidden allure of her voice. you shouldn't be doing this. your thundering heart pounding against your chest like a wild symphony, each beat echoing the danger of your lust driven actions.

"hello?"

oh.

your imagination doesn't do her justice . you hear the raspiness of her voice and envision the meanness in her eyes as you gyrate your fingers on your clit. your head sways back , eyes fluttering . you can just imagine her now , back hunched over her desk , a pile of questionable documents looking as worn out and frustrated as ever .

"hello?" she responds , her tone taking an irritated note. "if this is one of those stupid fucking prank calls i swear to god - "

a high pitched moan slips from your lips before you can even think to contain it , effectively cutting her off . a silence looms over the both of you. you're sure you can imagine the surprise on her face. eyebrows raised, as sudden jolt runs through her body. you made her feel something.

"sorry , you have the wrong number - "

"no." you quickly correct her , breathing out a sigh of pleasure . "it's you sevika. im going to cum soon, please touch me there."

you hear her breath hitch, a second passes. two. your chest tightens in anticipation. three. a zapping thrum spreads through your legs. four. "what's your name ?"

you're silent , the only sound being your heavy breathing and the faint background of the tv . desperation sinks into your bones the longer you remain on the phone . "who is this?"

"doesn't matter im … im no one." you breath out , your legs instinctively shutting around your hand. your eyes flutter as you imagine that voice talking to you, the confusion in her tone replaced with a dark possessiveness, compelling you to go faster, harder. "i know what you've done … what you do. "

"and that excites you doesn't it?"

the silent yes is heard with the way your moans go up an octave. she goes quiet until the only sound heard is from your side and you fear she dropped the phone.

"se-sevika ? are you-"

"what are you doing right now?"

your movements stutter in slight surprise . "im…im fucking myself and pretending its you. your hand , your mouth , your frame , your … anything you'll give me." the words rush out of your mouth . she doesn't laugh at the desperation drenched in your words but you can feel the mocking tone her words take.

"are you close?"

"yes ... yes...yes." you whimper.

you can feel her hands roaming down your malleable flesh, searing her prints into your flesh until you twist and contort at her will. feel the weight of her breath with each stroke. there’s energy zapping through your form and you throw your head back. you want her. need her. exist for her.

the thought of her strong thighs clenched to aid the ache between her own thighs makes your chest heavier. what if that’s why she’s so quiet? the thought of you is almost half as tantalising as her. you’re in her mind like a parasite. sucking away everything that makes her complete until she is but a statue you can marvel.

“im coming. oh. oh im coming.” you stutter out. a silence lapses between you two. this one thicker than the last. your tongue lays heavy in your mouth, a certain fear overtaking the desire.

"don't ever fucking call this line again." she whispers , voice dark and full of danger in a way that makes your swollen clit pulsate and breath hitch before promptly hanging up.

PLUTOS THOUGHTS: this was longer and sloppier than usual but i hope its good !

TAGLIST: @cyb3rdino

[allfearstofallto]

What are your favorite yandere fics?

YESSS THANK YOU!!! 😭 😭 OMG I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH!! I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE

Tempting Fate by @\ddarker-dreams

Yandere! Scaramouche x Reader

The tension in this one is so fucking thick, you could cut it with a knife! it's incredible! it's possibly my favorite interpretation of Scaramouche in written media ever! and the story even has a bit of a hopeful ending!

Rabid by @\Seijorhi

Yandere! Kyoutani Kentaro x Reader

I eat, breathe, and dream about this fic. I damn near think about it everyday. My maladaptive daydreams almost always go back to this fic. You've got love at first site. Mafia. Extremely underpaid reader and a yandere who has an almost animalistic lack of control around them!!

Yandere Genshin Academy AU by @\Yestrday

This is a series of Headcanons for a BUNCH of different genshin characters, taking place in an academic setting. I fucking love it. I eat it up. I highly suggest you read each and every part of this amazing series, which are all conveniently linked, for the best takes on different yandere archetypes.

Mesmerized by @\Yandere Daydreams

Yandere! Lyney x Reader

Absolute GOLD right here!! I love this rendition of Lyney, I love the hopelessness of the story, I love the subtle humor it has. It's sooo good!! So much is relayed to you in such a small amount of time and it's so fucking tense and almost a little scary but in the best possible way!! Further proving why Lyney would be an excellent yandere.

[fairlyang]

Angel of Music 🏹

w/c: 5.7K

pairing: phantom!katebishop x singer!reader

tags: kinda following poto with a few changes. she's crazy but not mean, obsessed, stalkerish, lowkey a sweetie, helping write the point in no return, confessions in form of lyrics. 18+ smut. making out. fingering, cunnilingus, praise, murder mention, happy tears, finishing the song. happy ending

a/n: my most recent obsession!! i fell in loveeee with the songs as well as the 2011 anniversary show version! then i thought damn i’d fold soooo hard if the phantom was a woman and here we are w my own rendition<3 fav fic i’ve written thus far i think:’)

kinktober masterlist | main masterlist

after the sad death of your father and his last promising words that he’s left you an angel, rather that, an angel of music to protect you, you’ve heard her. you hear her when you light a candle for him in a hidden back room that’s backstage as well as when you’re in a deep slumber and dreaming.

she’s even taught you better forms to sing for your range as a soprano, encourages you to be better, and has been making sure you’re actually improving. she’s really been such an angel.

she has such a raw, sometimes sweet voice but powerful when need be. like how you knew she would be because of the short reconciliation with raoul.

“raoul!” you shouted after the man who just went to fetch his hat to take you out for supper, “things have changed, raoul..”

quickly did the sounds of your protector’s voice fill the dressing room, “insolent boy!! this slave of fashion, basking in your glory. ignorant fool! this brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!”

“angel! i hear you! speak, i listen. stay by my side, guide me! angel, my soul was weak, forgive me. enter at last, master!” you sang apologetically then sounded desperate to see her.

“flattering child, you shall know me. see why in shadow i hide. look at your face in the mirror, i am there inside!” she sang in a softer tone and you quickly turned around to look at the mirror.

there she was.

you slowly walked over to her, with wide eyes in complete shock. you knew she wasn’t a fragment in your imagination but to see her in the flesh like this was something you’ve only been dreaming of for as long as she’s been teaching you.

she wore a white mask that covered the right half of her face and had her dark brown hair slicked back. she wore a black tailcoat and waistcoat, with a white shirt underneath and a dark purple cravat on top. she also had black trousers and an opera cloak.

she looked proper and dashing like the composers and musicians that you’ve seen in all your years. she looked mesmerizing.

and sounded mesmerizing as well. so much so that you were walking towards her, eyes back on hers as she sang to you, “I am your angel of music. come to me, angel of music.”

you continued towards her through the mirror, like a moth to a flame, “I am your angel of music. come to me, angel of music.”

she stuck her hand out for you and you grab it, while still retaining eye contact. her deep blue eyes were gorgeous and you couldn’t dare look away. utterly captivated.

she looked away occasionally as she led you down the candle-lit hallway, turning back to you every few seconds to ensure you were there. she saw the way raoul was looking at you and she couldn’t fathom the thought of someone else catching your eye.

after all she was your teacher and you her muse. it was about time you came face to face, for all she wanted was to have you as hers, to share your love and devotion of music.

“in sleep she sang to me, in dreams she came. that voice which calls to me and speaks my name.” you sing softly.

“and do i dream again? for now i find the phantom of the opera is there - inside my mind—” you carefully went down the stairs, looking at her face again.

her hand held yours gently as you looked down the pathway to find a horse. you both went down slowly to make sure you won’t fall or anything.

her strong voice suddenly graces your ears, “sing once again with me, our strange duet. my power over you grows stronger yet.”

she helped you on top of the horse and you turned your head, “and though you turn from me, to glance behind— the phantom of the opera is there - inside your mind.”

she stopped the horse and offered her hand once more to help you down, which you accept. you hopped down and her hand was on your waist leading you to the gondola. “those who have seen your face draw back in fear. I am the mask you wear.”

“it's me they hear.” she sings then you both start harmonizing with alternate adjectives, “your spirit and my voice, in one combined. the phantom of the opera is there — inside my mind.”

you watched as she used a long stick to row you down the little river, her eyes boring into yours because she also couldn’t believe you were here. she’s been waiting for you.

meanwhile you were entranced by her beauty and her stunning voice. she looked to be maybe only a couple years older than you which was quite surprising because of her impeccable talents.

“in all your fantasies, you always knew — that woman and mystery..” she sang and you finished it in truth, “… were both in you���”

you harmonized with her again, “and in this labyrinth, where night is blind, the phantom of the opera is here - inside my mind…”

she looked at you with a wide grin, beyond excited, “my angel of music!” she exclaims as you slowly went under a gate and to her lair.

“she’s there, the phantom of the opera…” you sing softly as she pulls you both in.

“sing my angel.” she commands and you do a high falsetto for a few seconds while she nodded, in approval.

she looks at you and with her hand motions higher, “sing!!”

as if she was controlling you, you did it but raised it to a BB5 note. you were now entering her lair and watching as tall and big candelabras appear from beneath the water.

you do the same exact note once again without her asking for it while her hands went higher with determination, “sing!”

you went even higher, slowly reaching levels you haven’t done before. your eyes stayed wide in surprise as she watched you in awe, bewitched by your perseverance.

you repeated the same note again and she extended her hand out, “sing!”

your pitch was even higher, surprising only yourself because she knew what you were capable of. she just had to push you a bit.

“sing, my angel!” she yells and you’ve reached a C6 note.

“sing for me!!!” she lets out one final scream and you sing with all your might, reaching the highest note one can hit.

you let it drag on for as long as you could and when you stopped you held onto your throat, relishing in your new and amazing accomplishment while she got out of the gondola.

she had a huge grin on her face, ecstatic that her teachings worked well and that you were even more perfect, way beyond her own comprehension.

she stuck her hand out for you again and you snapped out of your thoughts to grab it as she helped you up and out of the gondola. you stepped out of it and stood in front of her, tall and with an aura that felt so intimidating yet familiar.

you looked at her expectantly, assuming she’ll give you praise like she has been doing for as long as you can remember. it was a plus to improving your techniques and was just proof that hard work paid off because you lived for it.

her second hand came up to your face, cupping your cheek which had you melt against her touch, “your talent is beyond the word of perfection, my angel.”

you smiled and she gave you one right back as she let go of your face, leading you inside. you walked past an organ with sheet music over a small desk and loads of candles surrounding it. there were also a handful of mirrors but they were all covered up by fabrics of velvet.

you took a quick look around and your first thoughts were how has she survived down here for so long? did it ever get lonely? is that why there were so many stacks of sheet music? is that why she was so strict with every show the opera house held?

suddenly she sings in her strong vibrato, “i have brought you to the seat of sweet music’s throne. to this kingdom where all must pay home to music, music.”

she then walked a little more and opened a curtain which revealed a mannequin that looked identical to you and not just that but in a wedding dress. you felt dizzy when she sings softly, “you have come here for one purpose and one alone. since the moment i first heard you sing i have needed you with me to serve me, to sing for my music, my music.” 

that last note was the last thing you heard before blacking out and falling straight into her arms.

you woke up to the quiet sounds of a music box. you looked around, remembering where you were and realized you were on a bed. the black lace drapes covered every side of the bed and you saw a little lever to your right so you pulled on it and they slowly came up. 

by the foot of the bed and on a small ottoman was the music box playing a gentle melody of a song with a monkey playing two drum cymbals right on top of it. you watched it in awe and slowly got up, now following the sounds of light humming. 

you tiptoed until you got close enough to see the phantom's work space and found her writing with a feather and ink. she looked hard at work and concentrated while humming an unknown tune. she looked up to you and motioned for you to come closer with a finger and you did.

you stood above her as she showed you what she had been writing, you tilt your head and read its title plus her name below it then to the stack of lyrics to her left, "the point of no return?" you ask and she nods. 

"is it another duet?" you ask and she nods yet again, "still working on the second half.."

you nod and eye the lyrics, she notices and reaches over to them before grabbing them and handing them to you. you grab them and look at her to make sure it was really okay, she gives you a smile and you look back at the papers to start reading. 

she wrote in cursive, neat and delicate, starting off with strong lyrics within the first five lines then the next verse that instantly had you feeling flustered.

our passions may fuse and merge… 

in your mind you've already succumbed to me.

now you are here with me, no second thoughts, you've decided, decided

your cheeks were hot and you were speechless as you quickly skimmed through the rest of it, eyes landing on two lines that had your mouth running dry. 

what rich desire unlocks its door?

what sweet seduction lies before us?

you gulped and squeezed your thighs together as you finished the rest and that was all for the first page. you were speechless. your mind was blank for a short while until it was suddenly filled with words of your thoughts from the back of your head and you had to let them out.

you sing them quietly, attempting to do it in the way she imagined, "you have brought me to that moment when words run dry, to that moment when speech disappears into silence, silence."

you kept quiet for dramatic effect but also to choose your next words carefully. she looked up at you with admiration and respect, feeling so content with her decision to snatch you away before raoul even got a proper chance. it was for the best, for you and for her.

you reached down, putting her papers down in front of her, then bringing your right hand up to cup the left side of her face. she flinched for a second, but your soft gaze calmed her down, something that shouldn't have surprised her. 

you had the power in your hands to make her better. to make her a better woman. a better singer, writer.

all she ever really needed to feel human was something like this. all she she really needed was you. and all she has ever longed for was love.

maybe now she could not only change but become a better version of herself for you.

she turned her body to fully face you, her face warm and heart all fuzzy just looking at you. she can only imagine the difference your presence in her life will do already.

you took a deep breath, looking right into her eyes as you confessed, and sang gently, "i have come here hardly knowing the reason why. in my mind, I've already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent." 

you brought your left hand to her right side, touching the mask and leaning down, "now I am here with you, no second thoughts."

you lean in, left hand going down to the very end of the mask as you feel her hand on yours, slowly bringing it up with you as you whisper, "I've decided, decided." 

she lets you pull it off then tries to look away from you, afraid her worst fears will come true after your heartfelt and risqué confession that had her heart beat awfully quick but you didn't let her. you lightly cupped her jaw as you took in her features. 

her cheek was wrinkled, the right side of her lips were swollen, she didn't have a right eyebrow, her right eye was actually a gray color, and a gash along her temple.

her face was deformed, and so different to the other half, it had you feeling empathetic that she felt the need to live down here and still wear a mask. she shouldn't have to live this way.

she was even more beautiful. 

she attempted to look away from you in shame, now thinking that maybe you did deserve someone like raoul so you wouldn’t be embarrassed. someone who matched your beauty and wouldn’t scare people away. 

you on the other hand thought the opposite. 

you had already forgotten all about raoul as soon as you saw her behind that mirror but now there was no doubt in your mind that it was her that you’ll choose no matter what. 

she has been not only such an excellent teacher but it really felt like she’s taken good care of you behind the scenes.  

reading those lyrics felt like you were able to get a glimpse inside her mind and her true feelings as well as her deepest desires. 

so you did what felt right and leaned in until you could feel her breath against your lips. you put the mask on her little desk and swiftly sat on her lap with your legs dangling to the side, wrapping your arms behind her neck while she held you in place. 

she leaned in and you could see her lips lightly trembling, and your own growing nerves didn’t help you but without another moment to waste, you kissed her. it was soft, sweet just to see if she wouldn’t mind it. 

you took it as a sign that she didn’t when her hands gripped your waist and she kissed back eagerly. you tried not to smile through the kiss but it felt impossible and you could feel her smiling too so that was a good sign. 

she brought a hand up to your face, feeling the warmth of your skin while she kissed you deeper. you already tasted so sweet. felt so much better than she imagined. 

she should’ve done this sooner. 

suddenly you pulled away and she was taken by surprise. you looked down at her lips and they were a light red and already puffy. you looked up and into her eyes, they were glowing and both appeared to have darkened. 

you both smiled at each other and this time she kissed you first, brushing her lips against yours gently while her hands stayed on your waist. you brought your left hand up to her jaw as you opened your mouth and she slipped her tongue inside. 

your tongues were clashing and your heart was already racing in excitement. what was just a second ago a sweet and tender kiss, quickly changed into a desperate and sloppy one with your hands all over each other. 

your hand went down playing with her cravat between your fingers as one of her hands went under your legs and the other to your lower back. she then stood up, carrying you bridal style en route to her bed. 

she walked slowly and carefully since being down there for years, she had the whole place memorized like the back of her hand. so she moved swiftly and was able to get you there safely without hurting a hair on your head. 

she pulled away from you only to lay you down on the bed gently just to admire you for a split second as you scoot to the middle of it before she climbed on to the bed then on to you. she grabbed your chin just with her index finger and thumb, making you look right into her eyes while she leant in, "you're so beautiful, and given the gift of having the voice of an ethereal angel."

your face grew hot and you wanted to look away because you were flustered but she didn't allow you to. her cheeks were red because she was just so happy, this was one her dreams that she wasn't so sure would come true but was beyond ecstatic that it did. 

you were all she needed to truly feel human after all the awful years she had. her angel of music.

no one else's and she'd make sure of it.

she kissed you for the third time but this time she was even more desperate. she needed to have you. her hands were exploring every inch of your body, squeezing and gripping every curve while your hands trail up and down her back. your tongues clashed together and you were slowly losing your breath as you felt her hands suddenly undoing the straps of your robe.

you pulled away so she can look at what she was doing and your hands went down to her front to undo the buttons from her tailcoat as fast as you could. she only chuckled under her breath and opened the robe to reveal your red, green and gold bodice which looked absolutely stunning on you. unfortunately she was too eager to help you take it off so she lowered herself down your body while retaining eye contact.

she got to the hem of your skirt and right as she opened her mouth, you just nodded feverishly, "please."

she bit her lip to hide the moan that was about to slip from her mouth and pulled your skirt down slowly, admiring every inch of bare skin her eyes laid on, "so beautiful." she whispered and pulled the skirt over your legs.

she threw it behind her and you spread your legs apart – her body was between your legs, slowly going down and when reaching your thighs she made sure to leave trails of kisses on each side. then she was face to face with your already soaked panties, she bit her lip again and looked up at you. 

your lips were in a pout already needing her to do something but you didn't want to seem too needy. but given you were entirely exposed and she knows you're already wet maybe she already knew.

she wraps her arms around your thighs then leans in, leaving a kiss on your clothed clit before kissing down until she got to your entrance. she then licked a strip all the way back up to your clit, sending shivers all throughout your body as she repeated the process again. you let out a sigh and bring a hand down to her hair, urging her to do more. 

she grins, quickly moving your panties to the side and diving right in to have a taste. she licked your slit, savoring that sweet taste as if you'd vanish out of thin air. you tasted heavenly, exactly how she knew you would. 

her tongue went up, circling your nub while she took off her gloves and teasingly threw them at you. you caught them with a laugh, tugging on her hair making her groan against you. you moaned and her head went back down, lapping at your folds like she hasn't eaten for weeks. "oh god-" you moaned and bucked your hips up. 

she moaned against you, doing it faster just to hear your angelic moans for as long as she could. she felt like she was dreaming. if it weren't for the fact that you were moaning for her, she would've assumed this really was just one of her wet dreams.

she started going up and down, making sure to slurp up all your juices because she needed every drop of you in her mouth. just to make sure this was really happening. 

your eyes fluttered shut and you tried to keep them open but the pleasure she was giving you was just so breathtaking. "feels so good kate-" you murmured, locking eyes with her as she nods.

suddenly you felt her teasing your entrance with a finger and your body trembled. her eyes close shut, focusing on making you feel good and on her sense of hearing to hear what you like. luckily for her she was able to feel your thighs shake, and your arousal was dripping even more. 

thank the heavens she didn’t let raoul have a singular opportunity. 

he’d be lost.

she slipped the finger all the way inside and your walls easily entrapped it. she moaned and pulled it back only to add a second finger. you clenched around both as she slammed it into you making you whimper.

she pulled it all the way out then went back in with both and started pumping them fast. you gasped as you heard the noises coming from between your legs, it sounded crazy.

your arousal was coating her fingers and she just watched the way your body reacted to her touch. it was everything she could have ever wanted and more.

“mm just like that-“ you moaned, trying to keep your eyes on her but it felt impossible.

you just wanted to close your eyes and feel the heaven she was giving you.

her fingers went faster, looking at your pretty face while she came up and started sucking on your clit to make you come in her mouth as fast as possible. you gasped and your eyes shot open, looking right at her as she worked expertly on your pussy.

it seemed she was good at everything she did. and looked just as good doing it.

she curled her fingers up when she pulled back making sure to hit your sweet spot with every thrust. with her other hand she pulled your left leg up, to have more space and so it can bring you more pleasure. more moans slipped from your lips making her moan into you and speed up.

your hands gripped her hair keeping her as close as possible to you because it just felt too good. her entire mouth was on your clit, flicking and sucking on it while her fingers went deeper.

you felt a strong sensation in your stomach, as if you were about to pee and it had you nervous, “kate- i d-don’t-“

your brain was mush and you couldn’t spill out a coherent sentence but she could feel you contort and clench against her fingers, you were close.

with her left hand she grabbed your right hand and made you hold your own leg up while hers went to your stomach, pressing on it over the bodice. you whined and that feeling in your stomach was only growing tighter, “oh my- f-fuck! please-“

she pulls away from your clit and looks deeply into your eyes as she murmurs, “wanna come for me, my angel?”

you quickly nod and she grins, her whole mouth and cheeks glistening with your arousal as she goes back down to suck on your swollen nub. you gasped then whimpered as your orgasm built up and with her loving stare alone, you quickly came undone. your body shook while her fingers slowed down, letting you completely ride out your high.

you whimpered out her name and let go of your leg and her hair. you could hear your heart beat loudly in your ears as the pleasure slowly washed away and was now reaching towards overstimulation. your hand went up to your face, trying to calm yourself down.

she pulls away from you and leaves a kiss on your inner thigh and just lets her fingers stay inside you while admiring your pretty face basking in afterglow.

she’d do anything to always have you like this. spending as much time as you’d let her to take care of you properly each and every time.

it’s what you deserved after the phenomenal progress of your voice and especially after tonight’s show. sure she’d have to take care of raoul to ensure he doesn’t get in the way and so you can still go up to become the permanent lead.

she’d do whatever it takes.

“kate i wanna taste you.” you whined, lightly tapping her head with a finger, and she snapped out of it.

“oh do you?” she teases and you nod.

she slowly pulls her fingers out of you and then gets up from between your legs. she sits up and you quickly move over, making space for her while she took your previous position. you went down her body, undoing her pants as fast as you could.

you pulled them down and revealed that she was wearing a pair of boxers. you slid those down as well, spreading her legs wide, and then instantly ate her out with no care in the world of anything except for her.

she moaned and her eyes rolled to the back of her head, “oh my god yes-“

you were surprised she was just as, if not more wet than you. but what surprised you more was how amazing she tasted. you wrapped your arms around her thighs, truly savoring her because she was just so sweet.

kate grinned at your desperation, happy that you’re feeling like she is now. she brought a hand down to your head, guiding you to come up and suck on her clit. you did as she wanted and looked at her while doing so which gave her instant goosebumps, “just like that, my sweet angel- y-you’re doing so good for me.” she breathed out making you moan onto her.

her body shook and you took it as a good sign. you sucked on her clit while lightly flicking it with the tip of your tongue. she gasped in shock and you just kept it going, doing it a little faster just so you could hear her again.

she moaned your name out like a prayer along with praise that had your heart skipping a beat. you brought your right hand down, pulling away from her so you can admire her. she had a slight bush on her mound and everything else was bare. her actual pussy was pretty, already glistening with a mix of your saliva and her juices.

you spread her lips apart with two fingers then can’t help but to lick a strip up then back down, tongue teasing her entrance and just feeling her shake above you. you pulled away, lips all glossy and you took a quick look at her, bringing a finger down to enter her hole before quickly looking at her.

she gasped and clenched against the digit, you pulled it out and then teased her hole with two fingers making her groan, “oh my- please, lord please.”

you slid them in, feeling yourself grow impatient and not wanting to tease her too much. she relaxed her body but her walls still clenched against your fingers, “relax angel, i’ll take care of you.” you murmur earning yourself loud moans from her.

you smile and pump them deeper as she squirmed around while you give her sweet praises, just to flip the script a bit.

you had officially made her completely lose her mind.

she had the two people she had to take care of in mind before she’d send you back up to the opera house. she had to make sure there were no loose ends when you became the official lead and maybe then she’d come up to take control without harming any more people.

but for now she’d cherish every passing second with you because it’s all she dreamed of.

your fingers were going at a fast pace, her juices dripping down your hand, and kate’s moans were gracing your ears. “just like that angel, please don’t stop-“

you nodded, doing the same thing but now going a bit harder. her hands gripped the sheets, her lower body grinding against you because it was just too good and she was starting to get greedy.

you kissed her thigh watching as her face contorted in pleasure with every thrust. her eyes were fluttering and she kept biting her lip attempting to be quiet but was obviously failing. “my beautiful angel- god you’re amazing.”

your face grew warm and you felt butterflies in your stomach, it was like becoming one of those lovesick girls from the films except you didn’t hate it. it was an amazing feeling to already feel wanted like this, in this capacity.

especially by someone whose been the most helpful for your career and always seemed to care for you more than just a tutor. like you cared for her as well.

it was more than that and it made you overjoyed and delighted to have been taught by her. you knew in your heart that it’d become more which only had you feeling excited for your future with her.

her moans brought you back to reality where she was a mess. she was making a mess of your fingers and her eyes were barely able to remain open. you went down and sucked on her clit again, pumping your fingers inside her at a faster pace that only had her dripping even more than before.

“y-yes- oh my- angel please.” she moaned and you squeezed your thighs together for some friction.

“a-always so caring and t-thoughtful, aren’t you sweetheart?” she murmurs earning herself a whimper right against her pussy.

her legs shook and she was back to clenching against your fingers, maybe she was close. your fingers never stopped, only increased the pace since that’s likely what she needed. you pulled away once again just to respond, “mhm, you already know me well enough huh?”

she laughs then whimpers when your fingers start curling and she instantly feels her orgasm coming in hot pursuit. “fuck! yes, i do- know you s-so well.” she mutters making you grin.

seems you were able to break her like she did with you. another accomplishment of the night.

you brought your left hand up to her and she quickly entwined your fingers together, “give it to me. please give it to me, angel.” you murmured and she let out a loud mewl as her orgasm crashed down on her.

you continued your pace while she reached her climax, letting out more moans and whimpers as her body started shaking. her hand was gripping your hand tightly and you just held onto it as you finally slowed down. she was breathing heavily, heart pounding while she looked down at you through fucked out eyes, looking at you as if you really were a real angel.

you were just as beautiful as one. with an angelic voice to match.

you slowly pulled your fingers out of her, not wanting it to hurt her as she sighed and opened her arms. with a wide grin you climbed on top of her, before laying down and making yourself comfortable in her arms.

she wrapped her arms around you as you heard her heart face against her chest. it felt like yours was reacting the exact same way as well.

you laid like that in comfortable silence as she got herself to calm down, enjoying being able to have you like this after all she’s taught you. it was the greatest feeling.

suddenly her mind came up with heartfelt lyrics to finish your song. she cleared her throat then sang quietly just enough for you to hear, “say you’ll share with me one love, one lifetime. lead me, save me from my solitude.”

her eyes welled with tears as you looked up at her, your own eyes tearing up as she finished, “say you want me with you here, beside you. anywhere you go, let me go too… that’s all i ask of you—“

her voice cracked with the very end of the last note and a single tear fell off both your faces. you quickly brought a hand up to wipe the tear from the right side of her face, gently rubbing your thumb against her skin.

she did the same to you, looking at you with eyes filled of pure love as you finish off the song, “beyond the point of no return.”

she cried softly, unable to not smile at the same time. you just made her the happiest woman in the world. you made her feel human again. you were all she needed to feel human and happy with life again.

she’ll never take you for granted and will make sure to take care of you in every way for as long as you allow her to.

[intheholler]

brought up in the rolling hills of greater appalachia, there were scarce times, there were good times, and there were rough times. just like anywhere else. but at all times there was hope and community, no matter the circumstance.

as many negative things as i hear about the place i live and as many experiences i have had that align with such criticisms, there were a thousand more instances where i was blessed with an enchanting, community enriched childhood. i will never forget or under-appreciate the closeness of neighbors despite our long lengths from one another.

what i mean to say is, appalachia, they could never make me hate you.

my Daddy is a pastor and my Mama the most down to earth pastor’s wife to walk this sweet, dark-soiled land we are so blessed to live on. even though my father and i don’t always get along, my mother and i are and will forever be the most kindred of spirits. through her wit, her will, and her wisdom, many traditions of appalachia have been passed down to me.

your porch ceiling best be haint blue, and you had better never close another person’s pocket knife. always gift a hand-quilted or crocheted blanket at every baby shower you ever attend. sprinkling salt at every doorway while squeaking out a hushed and hastened prayer for protection.

even those are just a few traditions that i can credit to my culture and my mother who instilled it in me. and that installation is so incredibly important. so as not to lose our rich, beautiful, and complex history.

the first rumblings, the soft spot

an important experience that i would argue helps many appalachian children to realize their culture and heritage is when they, for the first time, listen in to the kitchen talk among cousins. how Papaw can’t read so well because he never got to finish up school and why Uncle Rick got this new job manufacturing cars. how Meemaw lost her baby to scarlett fever and how Miss Deretta down the road worked at the children’s home where your cousin Thomas got dropped off in a cardboard box after a flood that demolished the apartments uptown. slowly, piece by piece, your young mind starts to understand the ebb and flow of unspoken community support. the gentle hand holding taking place through the entire mountain range. the interwoven families that aren’t any kin.

running interference

as you grow up, unfortunately, the world seeps in, slow and clever as a fox in the hen house. making your own out to be some sort of gnawing hillbilly that don’t know their ass from grass. and suddenly when someone asks where you’re from you’re ashamed to admit it. the only thing that you and friends talk about is getting out and seeing new places, away from the parents and the gossip pew of your respective churches. on friday night you all meet up in the Dollar General parking lot and carpool to your school’s football game so that you can shout wildly inappropriate cheers at the rival of the night from the student section. you run into Mrs Connor while washing your hands in the restrooms behind the stadium and when she tells you vibrant stories of your Pa in high school, skipping for deer hunting season along with half of the class of ‘68, you appreciate her. and you don’t know it, but every interaction like that, grows your mountain heart bigger, making more room for story after story.

one of my friends is now engaged to the man who was their starting quarterback. the two of them are the sweetest of couples. the world is perfectly small here.

weeks-long revival and a singing every night

after an innocent turned passionate kiss in your church crush’s car, you find space on the pew with the rest of your youth group, leaving room for jesus, of course. Aneoumes (an-nay-mus, unique name, i know) the church Dulcimer player brings out his fine jnstrument with Mrs Dorothy, the pianist and the previously mentioned Mrs Connor on the organ to do their own mesmerizing renditions of When the Roll is Called up Yonder, I’ll Fly Away, The Gloryland Way, Mansion Over the Hilltop, He Set me Free, Heaven’s Jubilee, and the baptist favorite, Amazing Grace making for a beautiful night of harmony among voices. anymore you weren’t sure what you believed (not that you dared to tell a soul, or even say it out loud) but you knew good and well that church brought people together and helped those in need, and both of those were things you could get on board with. of course the politics were messy, but you could mostly keep your lips sealed. your home church certainly did more to feed the hungry than the government officials who were supposedly all libbed up, or at least that is what they’d pushed.

suddenly, this place didn’t seem so bad. you were worn smack out but only because of the late company, which you certainly didn’t mind in exchange for a typical night of hot, early sleep. when you got home Todd Lee your neighbor was still cutting hay and so the putputput of his tractor lulled you off to sleep. he told you “it keeps the sugar in, seeing’s that it’s nice and cool out in the dark” he had told you when you let him know that his lively tractor sounds put you at peace every night.

something about this place felt more special, fonder, than what you had understood in your younger teen years.

the first leaving

your dad received a stimulus check during the pandemic and decided to go visit his aunt Barbara on the northeast coast. being away from home a whole week felt like a pig being gutted and packed, still warm in the patties. it was awful. every night you cried, holding your younger siblings who did the same, no one here smiled or talked to you and the rain didn’t smell right, the food was bland and blended all together in taste, worst of all there was nowhere to be that wasn’t covered in concrete and where there was, you had to pay for access. when the mountains finally came back into sight, your heart leaped and tears fell from your eyes. that moment was as close to divine intervention as you’d felt since your baptism. gratitude overwhelmed your senses and you thanked jesus for being born where you were. where people were friendly and food was good and friends were close and everything was wide open.

for a moment you wondered if when David wrote “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul.” if he too was experiencing the peace of returning home after a tumultuous time away.

the second leaving and the enthusiastic return

now, you’re headed off to college. it grips at your heart that you won’t be with the supportive community around you that you’ve always had. but this time the leaving makes sense. you’ll educate yourself on how to teach and help others, you’ll take extra, unnecessary classes on heritage and both cultural and natural history. upon your return you get to take all that hurt from being away and pour back into the place that has loved you so well. and you get to be the next generation to tell your own kiddos to keep the haints from their houses and their hands to the knives in their own pockets.

hopefully your loving will look a bit different, cast a wider net so that those kids who weren’t as lucky as you feel accepted in the community of people around them.

most importantly when you return with your degree and your license to teach, you can instill pride in those children, let them know that these lush hills and woods and creeks and mountains they call home really are some of the most wonderful places this world has to offer up. encourage them to believe that professional speaking is not removed from their dialect but rather in their clarity of conveyance. uplift the idea that time spent with family and friends, neighbors and strangers alike is to be valued. and most importantly in my book, teach them to appreciate the stories they are told, to remember them whether mentally or by doing some manual record keeping. our stories are our testaments to the fulfilling life that can be lived here. and the stories of our neighbor may have a great impact in our thinking.

what i’m trying to say is, appalachia, they could never make me hate you.

(i got totally carried away, sorry it’s so long)

.

[rahonn]

Rust

A/N: Gobble up the angst my children

Pairing: Eustass Kid x reader (no pronouns mentioned!)

Word count: 3511

Trigger warning: mentions of alcohol and drug abuse, toxic relationship, a bit of crime

_________________________________________

He never intended for anything to come out the way it did. Foul smell of burned meat invaded his nostrils, clinging to every inch of his exposed skin. And once again, alone and angry, he threw the plates against the wall. Mashed potatoes, looking more like a soup, ran down the ugly greyish paint, slab of overcooked beef slapped hard against the floor soon after. This was the drop of grease that started the fire. Low rumble started deep within his chest, making him vibrate all over. Soon, he was roaring like a hurt animal, throwing things all around, smashing plates, stomping on the utensils, throwing chairs. One of them smashed the window and fell out. Someone screamed right before wood broke into pieces against the concrete. Not even five minutes later someone started to bang on his front door, but he didn’t even hear them. Blue and red lights flashed outside accompanied by deafening sirens of two police cars and only then he stopped, suddenly feeling empty.

All that was left of Eustass Kidd were ashes and acrid smoke.

He was never the one to be interested in love. Not after they killed Victoria. They were young, sure, but the fact police never even bothered to open an investigation messed him up real good. Only other person he could count on whatever happened was Killer. With time, Wire and Heat joined their fucked up duo-turned-group. They caused a lot of ruckus around town, they were a violent bunch. Only thing they were really good at was producing noise and fixing or recycling electronics and car parts. So they leaned into it, putting their anger at the state of the world into making money from fixing whatever they could that they later spent on studio and crappy instruments.

They sounded awful at first, but that’s how they felt. Nothing made sense in this fucked up world, why should their music do?

By complete chance they found themselves in the middle of the woods, drinking. Being still underage, this was one of few places police wouldn’t catch them. The sound they never expected there suddenly appeared – raspy, sonorous voice boomed all around them. They listened awfully familiar lyrics, perfect rendition of one of the bands they drew inspiration from. Peeking out at the main trail from behind some bushes, they saw young human dressed in all black, with tattered leather jacket on, few sizes too big and bovvy boots not even tied up.

That was the day their group got a new member and Eustass Kidd felt something move in his chest the second mesmerizing eyes looked at him. The smile light up his world. Nothing got fixed, it didn’t work like that. But Kidd started to change, bit by bit.

He started showing off more, expecting a praise from their new member. And he often got it. Everyone, him included, saw they were smitten, just head over heels for Eustass. They looked at him like he was the best this world could produce and he liked it. He got addicted to this feeling of being needed so desperately. He became their air, their water, their food, hobby and job. He was their everything. They were his obsession, but he would never, ever, say it out loud.

And maybe that’s where he went wrong.

All the times they practiced, drank the night away, went out to vandalize something or just to walk around, they tried to glue themselves to his side. He made fun of them a lot for it, they laughed it off. They loved him unconditionally. He called in the middle of the night? They soon stood on his doorstep, all sweaty and barely able to breathe. He told them to get him something? They would move heaven and earth to get it, even if it meant stealing or committing fraud. Or robbing someone. He wanted a star? They would somehow get into spaceship, burn their hands and destroy themselves, just to bring it down to him even if it was the last thing they’d do.

It was unhealthy, their relationship. Kidd, basking in the power he held over them, often poked fun at them, made fun of them. They laughed at it too, even though Killer and the rest tried to stop Eustass from saying such things. They were part of their small army, it was them against the world after all.

But one day, they became distant. All of a sudden Kidd lost his sun, his moon and the stars. His heart shifted, but he was too prideful to reach out, to ask what was happening. How furious he became after he saw they interacted with the rest of their band like earlier, before they decided on the name. What he didn’t know was they also slowly withdrew from the rest as well. It started with ignoring their texts, missing few practices here and there. Then it became more frequent. And when Killer, most emotionally mature out of all of them, asked what was wrong, they told him only about wanting to leave the band. Once Kidd heard it, his heart turned to stone. He jumped on his bike and drove straight to their house, forgetting about speed limits or even his helmet. He was furious, but cold. And he didn’t scream at them when they opened the door. Coldly he asked if it was true, if they were betraying the band like that.

If they were betraying him like that, but that part stayed silent.

Once shining eyes sparkling whenever he came into room, now looked at him without much emotion, dull and bland. They confirmed, they were indeed thinking about leaving to pursue higher education.

“We can’t play around like that for much longer. We need to grow up, sooner or later. I’m choosing now as my time of change.”

He spit on their shoes and with pure disgust he told them to never show their face near him. And that was that. He was hurt, he was furious, he felt betrayed once again. For the second time in his life, human he loved died in his eyes. This wasn’t the rebellious, up to anything person he met all those years before.

And they disappeared from the face of the earth after that, leaving black hole where Kidd’s heart once has been. The echo of their voice haunted him, whole band was missing them. But all members respected their decision. Only one that badmouthed them was Eustass, who put even more energy into their music, for the first time in very long with empty space near microphone. He forbade all Victoria Punk’s members from even talking about getting a replacement.

“We’ll manage without another leech just waiting to betray us.”

But when they caught the eye of one of bigger alternative labels, Killer sat Kidd down and talked to him for hours. That this was their chance of making it big and getting their story out there, shining a light at fucked up sides of this world. That he really needed to let them go already. They chose different path in life and that’s fine. It didn’t mean Kidd should let it hold him back from excelling in life. Eustass, after long few minutes of silence, said he got it, he’d find the vocalist soon.

First truly big concert was just ahead of them and he would make sure it’d make them talk of the country, if not the world. Stacks of song lyrics piled up under his bed, almost spilling out from there and their new frontman would sing them. After first fifteen minutes, they were already sweaty, giving their all. With guitar pick between his fingers, Kidd grabbed the mic, looking out into the crowd for a second, before closing his eyes and letting his voice carry through the air. With each word he got out there, he felt shield, carefully placed over his heart, bend, twist a bit and crack. Every song healed him just a little bit more, leaving him in the pit full of only sadness.

He missed them, their laugh, their eyes, the way they put all their energy into whatever they were doing. For maybe the first time in his life, when panting, covered in sweat he looked at the mass of bodies jumping and obeying his every word, he looked at his band, his best friends and smiled sadly. He walked over to Killer, who thought that maybe he wanted to change the song they were about to play. But Kidd just grabbed his bicep and looked deep into his eyes.

“I love them, Killer. And I need them back.”

As if lightning struck, Victoria Punk got their second, third, fourth and fifth big show, propelling them forward faster than it was necessary. Suddenly, they were doing interviews, got their own merch, started selling VIP tickets, had meet-and-greets with fans who cried and screamed upon seeing them.

Kidd made it his mission to find them though. He took out the songs they wrote and along with the band he mastered them, refusing to let even one word in them change. He hoped that maybe if they made it big enough, if they started to use their lyrics, they’d come to one of the shows. Because frankly, Eustass didn’t even know where to start looking for them.

The only time he wasn’t thinking about them were times when he snorted some coke or fucked someone. And it became his comfort, cushioning yet another fall after failed attempt of finding his love. It became his new habit, his new addiction to get rid of his old one – them.

Kidd started taking more drugs any of the guys from Victoria Punk even saw in their whole life. He often caught him mumbling to himself, off in his own world, their name leaving his lips all too often. Kidd smiled softly, staring into the void while sitting on the couch and talked under his breath about ‘how good it was to have them back’. And it scared Killer to no end. Soon, only he was allowed to enter Eustass’ room so the others wouldn’t know the extend of the damage done. He tried to pick the pieces of his best friend and mend them together, he searched all over for them, thinking maybe it would help. He even hired private investigator when all leads came up dry. All to pull Kidd back from the edge on which he balanced for the longest time.

And when investigator produced fresh photo of them, Killer relayed this message onto sober Kidd, rare occurrence these days. But Eustass looked at him with empty, sunken eyes and just smiled, not believing a word he said. Killer slapped the photo down with number hastily scribbled on the back of it and ordered his best friend to call them, then and there. To amuse his partner, Kidd grabbed his phone in trembling hands and pressed few buttons.

Phone ringed for a long time. And finally someone picked up making both men freeze on the spot.

“Hello? Who is this?”

No doubt, it was their voice. But Kidd panicked, because what would he even say? That he wanted them back? After all those years of no contact?

The voice whispered softly on the other end: “Kidd? No, there’s no way, right?” they laughed to themselves and cut off the call, leaving Eustass Kidd curled up on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, already deciding he’d go completely sober, he’d return to his old self and call again.

And he did just that. He got clean, cut off contact with all prostitutes he got to know for all those years. The whole time he nervously scribbled down and erased lines of his confession. The only outlet ever to his emotions became writing songs and singing them with all his chest. Once lead guitarist, now vocalist, Kidd composed the best song his band ever produced.

All to convey his feelings to them, to get them back.

It was first concert of their tour celebrating 30th anniversary of creating Victoria Punk. They managed to pull of starting the tour in the town they lived now instead in their hometown. Killer sent them VIP ticket that included meet-and-greet. In the envelope there was also long letter, describing how whole band felt it was time to maybe reconcile, how they all regretted the day they parted ways. Everything now depended on whether or not they wanted to meet their old friends.

Eustass Kidd thought he would maybe make dinner just to heat it up when he’d inevitably would bring them back to the apartment rented just for the time being, until Victoria Punk stayed in town. He decided to make something simple, so it wouldn’t take a lot of time to heat up, but also would taste good.

Suddenly, after almost 20 years of playing all over the world, he became nervous. He prepared everything, this was about to be greatest show of all the time, ending with his confession.

They walked on the stage, immediately getting into their positions. Instruments were ready, their hearts were ready. The show began without any problems, they rocked the whole stadium like they always did. Whole hour he searched the rows closest to the stage, VIP places where people could still mosh, but were separated from the rest. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he spotted familiar sign. He saw that line over and over again, motive repeating in their songs, the handwriting that haunted him in his dreams.

You catch me when I fall, we sail off in the night

The last song Victoria Punk performed was a cover, most fitting to the title of their tour ‘For you’.

“I’m sure you’ll like our rendition of Starset’s song Die For You” Kidd smirked right into the microphone. He tried to convey his feelings the whole time he stood on this stage. Tearing his throat to shreds, he heard Killer slamming the drums with all his might. Wire broke guitar pick, Heat almost sobbed while delivering the bass line. And when the song ended, whole stadium erupted into cheers, believing this was the end of the show. They all let them believe it, walking backstage. But Kidd only waited for lights to be turned off. He grabbed acoustic guitar he held onto from the day all Victoria Punk’s members signed it, laughing about selling it once they’d be famous.

But Kidd grabbed it and walked back on stage. He sat on the edge with guitar close to his chest and struck a chord. Single reflector snapped on, finding him in a flash. Kidd found the sign he saw earlier and smiled.

“This last song is, and will be, unreleased one. I took a long time to try and convey my feelings since I’m shitty talker. The person this song is to knows who they are. And they are here tonight.” Murmur spread through the crowd, he could swear he saw their eyes light up just. Just like in the good, old days. Suddenly, people vanished, all that was left was Kidd, the guitar and them right there, clutching a sign to their chest.

I sleep on my dreams, living in a nightmare

It hurts, you see, when you’re not here

There’s no past and no future

So, tell me when, when to let go

When to let you go and keep living

Without air, without fire, without soul

So, tell me when, when to let go

When to let you go and keep living

He sang his heart out, holding an eye contact with the one that grabbed his heart and ran all those years ago. And when he was done, he thanked everyone and straight up ran backstage, preparing for meet-and-greet. He made sure security knew who with what ticket number to bring to the back where the table was set up with snacks and five chairs around it for original squad of Victoria Punk to talk in private.

They sped through meeting their fans, making sure they all knew how grateful all members were for them to be there. But Kidd could only think about them, probably already sitting at the table, all nervous, looking around, playing with their hands to let out some of their feelings just a bit. How confused he was when he walked to the back all smiley and happy just to find the table completely empty. There was no one there. Killer, Wire and Heat went around, asking the crew and security where was the person with this specific ticket number.

“Yeah, they were here, but all they wanted was for me to give this to you all” one of the guards said, holding out four envelopes, each with different name on it. Kidd, still in shock, couldn’t move. Killer grabbed two last envelopes from guy’s hand and smacked Eustass on the back.

“Let’s go, partner” he said, sadness tainting his voice. Kidd let him lead him all the way to the car. Whole drive to the apartment, he held onto the envelope with his name scribbled on tightly, as if it could fly away at any second. Killer helped him get out of the car and made Kidd give him all valuables. “Just to be sure you won’t have anything to buy drugs with” he whispered, explaining himself, but Eustass automatically just put everything onto outstretched hand. He even shrugged off custom-made leather jacket before marching up the stairs.

He closed the door, mechanically turning on the oven to heat up the dinner he made. And he sat down on the couch, envelope in hand. He stared at it for the longest time before carefully pulling out card from the inside.

Dear Kidd,

Words already started dancing and merging together, but somehow, he was able to read it. Slowly, line after line, he read about their feelings. How hurt they were, how he treated them like a dog, using their admiration to make himself make feel better, how they finally decided to cut him off because their mental health was lower than the floor back then. And how hopeful they were he’d maybe contact them once they heard about Victoria Punk’s first CD, how they spent fortune going to all shows they played in their country, how they saw him spiraling and then getting back up, how proud they were, how they wrote countless letters to him, but never sent anything in the end. And how happy they were to receive invitation to this show with VIP tickets and handwritten note from Killer, how they missed all members of their little rascal band from their past, how nice it was to know they still thought about them.

And I never told you this, but I’m sure you knew already. I loved you. All this time, I loved you like crazy. And honestly, I still love you. But I also know you better than everyone, Boss. I know you just miss having someone stuck to you like a velcro, staring up at you with limitless admiration. That’s all. You were honestly my everything. My world, my air, my water, my hobby, my job, my soul. But it’s too little too late.

I’m sorry, I didn’t want to say those things like that, but I know I would cave in if I saw you in person. I would fall to my knees and beg you to take me with you, make me a part of Victoria Punk once again. But I know I would never be loved by you. Not in the way Victoria was, not in the way I deserve to be loved. You would, at most, make me your mascot again, just like you did when we were kids.

I am happy now.

Kidd smashed the mirror in the bathroom, no longer able to look at himself.

I found a guy that loves me and treats me with respect.

Sink got ripped out of the wall and thrown on the floor, smashed to pieces.

I wish I could kiss you and tell you I love you one time.

He looked out the window, contemplating the jump.

But please, let’s leave it in the past.

But the door got kicked in, police swarmed the apartment.

I miss you terribly, wishing it was you who I slept by every night.

By the time they got to him, he blacked out from the blood loss, his left arm bent weird in four different places.

I love you, Kidd, like I never loved, love or will love anyone.

He woke up in the hospital, staring up at the ceiling, his heart of steel laying in the pool of tears.

Please, forget about me.

Killer, Wire and Heat stood by his side when he got the news – they had to amputate most of his left arm, which meant no more shows for a little while.

Forever yours.

But that didn’t matter anymore, since his heart that lived for music, slowly got eaten away by the rust.

[yumiiyummech]

A HOME FOR FLOWERS

A Home For Flowers (decorative chrysanthemum)

"They say that every Chrysanthemum has a different meaning. They all represent something special. When I think of WENDY, I think she reminds me of a Decorative Chrysanthemum! They come with many, many, mesmerizing petals and in so many different colors for different occasions. Also, just like WENDY, she can make any place feel like home."

WOOO! This is a rendition and remix of A Home For Flowers (tulip), tailored for WENDY!

MAIN MELODY beepbox template belongs to @ mel1364 on youtube The original song A Home For Flowers (tulip) belongs to the game OMORI.

fun facts & story below the cut off !

FUN FACTS !

1.) decorative yellow chrysanthemums (primarily the specific chrysanthemum i associate with WENDY), are often used to represent sympathy, sorrow, grief, and even neglected love! They are decorative flowers often used at funerals, cemeteries and other melancholic events. I think if anything, WENDY most aligns herself with the neglected love meaning from her parents prior to meeting the group.

2.) When you listen to the song, there are obvious VIOLIN and PIANO melodies. The violin obviously being played by SUNNY and the piano by MARI. The first part is SUNNY playing the violin alone as practice with WENDY. Since she came from a rich family, she had to learn other useless skills to impress media. Therefore, she was able to teach SUNNY some violin. The second part is a duet that WENDY wrote in which MARI and SUNNY played together while she sat and listened with a warm, fuzzy feeling in her heart.

STORY !

"You should just focus on small, separate notes at a time. Take it easy, Sunny!" Wendy smiled, taking Sunny's hand and rushing him towards his new violin. "I can't quite teach you every note just yet... but you wanna play with MARI, right?"

Sunny nods quietly, his face not hidden from the excitement of finally getting to play more on his violin.

She asked permission before she held the violin in her arms, neck on the rest and her bow on the strings. Sunny thought she was quite elegant and fancy, the way she was holding it. She proceeded to show Sunny the hand placements for a song she wrote just then. Teaching him that he doesn't have to always play a note until his bow room runs out. Short but impactful strokes, so she said.

Sunny remembered this to be a core moment with Wendy. Wendy who so gently guided him to a simple song with a hum and a soothing voice. Sunny was excited to play with Mari. And when Mari came into the room, she sat on the piano and began mimicking Wendy's hum. Together, they played a wonderful melody over and over again until everyone gathered around to listen. It wasn't perfect but it was

their first ever one.

[repo-net]

EO5-Styled intros for the stratums from EO1 and EO2!

I finished playing EO5 a while back, and one of the things I really liked about the game were the short narrated sequences that played when you reached a stratum for the first time. The voice actress kills the role, and just the music slowly kicking in as she introduces just what you're about to get yourself into - aaahh, it's so good.

To help practice a bit of my description writing when it comes to locations and short tidbits of lore, I decided to try my hand at doing my own renditions of these sequences for the EO1 and 2 stratums! Hopefully they look alright, eheh.

Spoilers under the cut!

EO1

Every adventurer has a dream: whether it be for glory, for riches, for knowledge, or for purpose. Without fail, all of them flock to this mighty tree.

Regardless of the purity in their heart, the first step into these vast greenlands is filled with ambition.

That very same ambition is what has led to the end of so many. And yet for you, it may just be the start…

The legendary story born from hope blossomed here.

The first stratum, Emerald Grove

Descending down the stairs, a new layer of the labyrinth welcomes you.

Darker than the last, the tropical wilderness buzzes your ear with the sounds of trickling water, and cries of a new set of beasts.

Those who basked in their success of survival of the basics; learned far too late…

… That here, nature reigns supreme.

The second stratum, Primitive Jungle

Conquering the lord of the jungle, a mesmerizing sight shines against your eyes.

A moist scent wafting in the air, with a cobalt hue that makes one forget you’re still within a forest.

A queen of the insects lies in wait here, and below even her grasp is a mystery only a handful have seen, yet one question continues to prod.

Has that secret been forgotten by age, or has it grown into something more?

The third stratum, Azure Rainforest

Layer after layer of blooming life, comes to a harsh, arid halt upon this new arrival.

These wastelands filled with long stretches of beige and grains scraping against skin, is the very home of an ancient race.

They speak of a century-old pact, fully ready to defend their turf. To hide what’s below, and to see what’s below.

Wills even in the face of death are about to be tested here.

The fourth stratum, Sandy Barrens

Only the cursed king on his throne in the abyss remembers that golden age.

A world overwhelmed by verdure and promises of revival. A time and tragedy that only one man can tell the true story of.

Structures and mechanisms that you have never seen the likes of, with memories so distant, but so near all the same.

The mysteries that have been kept under for a millenia, it is your destiny to unravel them and see for your own - the secrets of Yggdrasil.

The fifth stratum, Lost Shinjuku

Below even the origin of creation is a place past the naked eye. 

A system of organs solely out of the blood dripping from stratas above, drenching the pulsing and veiny walls with a sickening red.

Screams and wails of agony from a creature tortured by its purpose, engulfing itself in this cavern to take its revenge on trespassers that were never meant to reach here.

For descending to the roots of this labyrinth, its very core will stop at nothing to engrave you into it.

The sixth stratum, Claret Hollows

EO2

The second saga of a legend already born, or the first for the arisal of new ones.

Whoever the author may be, this story begins all the same, with an invitation from a new land to ascend to heights yet to be reached.

These grassy woods that surround the bottom of the mighty tree…

Mark the intro for an adventure unlike any before.

The first stratum, Ancient Forest

Pushing through the daunting beginning trials, an opening paves way into a new flavor of woods.

These orange lands filled with prickly tails and segwaying paths; they provoke the explorers with a dilemma.

Will you grit your teeth through thorns for instant gratification, or will you dance with the roars of beasts seemingly undentable?

Be decisive, lest you go a route that leads to a pitiful end.

The second stratum, Auburn Thicket

Biting through fragile flesh, as soon as getting past the heat of the thicket.

Grazing against the adventurers, a stinging test from the polar opposite on the journey up north.

This icy surface, disrupting the pursuit towards the top, has spelled the end of many tales thought to be on the road of destiny.

Pass by these freezing storms, and at the peak awaits a tragedy long foretold; yet this is only one of his many, many failings.

The third stratum, Frozen Grounds

Lagaard knew not what was past those snowy acres, until they arrived; and now - they continue to soar.

Like the monsters and curious souls that reside here, these pink, rosy blossoms mark the start of heights never been reached.

Through echoes heard upward, each footstep through this cherry territory serenades the adventurers.

Keep on climbing, recite a long lost grail, and you’ll be one step closer to the heavens. But tread carefully - the war ahead may overwhelm even those chosen by fate.

The fourth stratum, Petal Bridge

The world was once overtaken by Earth itself. Those fortunate enough, built a stronghold to survive.

Centuries passed. And eventually, not even the stronghold could hold its strength. 

The one constant… was him. 

Renewing it to his liking, a phenomenal palace not even fairy tales could mold. A castle glistening with gold, proudly idling above the skies where no one could reach him. No matter how long it takes. No matter how many will be lost.

Despite all the years, he’s always kept one promise burned into his mind.

“Humanity must survive.”

The fifth stratum, Heavenly Keep

Eternity - a word no mortal could understand the true weight of. 

An eternity of mistakes. An eternity of lives lost from obsession. 

An eternity of abominations created by his hand. Yet not one was worse than his first.

Over his created heaven, was a forest so eden, so seemingly tranquil; yet nothing was more dangerous. It’s a sanctuary with just a singular purpose.

A forsaken prison, to house his darkest criminal.

The sixth stratum, Forbidden Wood

[thegildedbee]

Hero: May 29 Prompt from @calaisreno

This latest chapter and the previous ones are here at ao3. (I had hoped to finish with everyone else on the 31st of May, but alas, it looks like it will be May 32nd or 33rd for me . . . ) ...............................................................................................

In Vienna, his search and destroy mission retained its danger; it was as exhausting, and as nerve-wracking as any other part of his journeys to date. It was, however, undoubtedly a much more elegant and luxurious phase. His cover was as an art dealer, an international concierge of sorts, assisting in obtaining the exact object to be placed in exactly the right hands. That this was rarely an above-board legal transaction was, of course, the point. One might say that his current activities fell under the umbrella of the art of money laundering.

Although there had been recent flurries on the part of policing agencies to upend the illicit trafficking of art and antiquities, the Moriarty organization, like many other criminal enterprises, had been delighted to add participation in the circulation of fake and stolen artworks to their already robust departments of fraudulent real estate deals, as vehicles for making illegal monetary gains appear to be legitimate. Auction houses and the like were under no obligation to report large cash transactions to governing authorities -- unlike banks, life insurance companies, casinos, currency exchangers, and precious metal dealers. They could even keep the names of buyers and sellers anonymous. It was like stealing candy from a baby.

His activities had him bouncing from the unsavory world of back-street feloniusness, to the elite world of the over-monied and the over-gullible. Personally, he himself believed that, in a properly-run world, it would be perfectly acceptable if being a billionaire was illegal, but no one had asked him, as such, to draw up plans toward that end. At the very least, he could kill two birds with one stone, by draining the coffers of the obscenely-wealthy as expertly as possible, while also bleeding dry the Order of Moriartyites.

There was a completely legal print gallery next door to the famous Opera House, and he had come to enjoy dropping by on occasion when he wanted to simply enjoy art for recreational reasons, rather than pecuniary ones. The gallery possessed one of the largest collections of original Japanese woodblock prints in Europe, and he had become particularly captivated by their collection of pieces by the nineteenth-century master of ukiyo-e ("pictures of the floating world"), Tsukioka Yoshitoshi. There were many mesmerizing items from two of his series -- 100 Aspects of the Moon and New Forms of 36 Ghosts -- but the images that he especially craved to return to and study, were from his 50 renditions of Handsome and Brave Heroes of the Suikoden, fantastical images of spirits, monsters, and magical creatures, drawn from legendary histories and myths.

On his last day in Vienna, he indulged himself by buying a copy of "Toraomaru Riding a Tiger," an image that encapsulated the feeling that was his constant companion, of living out a life reflecting the aphorism, "He who rides the tiger, dare never dismount." It was a reckless thing to do -- he had no fixed location, no place to store anything important, and whatever he "owned" was only on loan to him as a temporary matter, as it might have to be jettisoned or abandoned at a moment's notice. Nevertheless, he stubbornly refused to submit to practicality in this one instance.

A month later, after many different instances of meditating upon his Yoshitoshi print, the reason the universe had wanted him to own it became clear. While running down new leads on the west coast of the States, he had passed a tattoo shop one day in San Francisco, and impulsively stopped in to see if he could make arrangements soon, in the time before he would have to leave, to have one of the artists interpret the Toraomaru on his left arm. Two days later, he had the art piece vibrantly reproduced, and healing, on his body (and, not so incidentally, allowing the marks from his drug injection days to disappear). His intimate acquisition was a defiant, sentimental, and minutely optimistic act of voicing the unvoiced center of his existence, even if visually, rather than aurally.

And, as someone dear to him from his past might have said: quite apropos for a drama queen.

........................................................

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @friday411 @peanitbear @original-welovethebeekeeper

@helloliriels @a-victorian-girl @keirgreeneyes @starrla89 @naefelldaurk

@topsyturvy-turtely @lisbeth-kk @raina-at @jobooksncoffee @meetinginsamarra

@solarmama-plantsareneat @bluebellofbakerstreet @dragonnan @safedistancefrombeingsmart @jolieblack

@msladysmith @ninasnakie @riversong912 @dapetty

.............................................................................

[angelasscribbles]

Cordonian Karaoke: Riley Take 4

Series: Cordonian Karaoke

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Characters: Drake Walker, Liam Rys, Riley Brooks, and the rest of the gang

Rating: Fun                                                                                  

Warnings: Depicts drunkenness generally

Word count: 321

Everything else: Master list.

It’s karaoke night in Cordonia and everyone is drunk. Drake persists in singing suggestive songs while shooting suggestive glances in Riley’s direction and dragging her up onto the stage for duets. Duets about lovers.

Riley has had enough. Leaning over she whispers softly in his ear, “I'm calling your bluff”, before making her way to the stage with a mischievous glint in her eye.

She flips through the book, chooses her song, and makes direct eye contact with Drake before giving a mesmerizing rendition of Love Karaoke by Blaire Reinhard keeping her eyes locked on him the entire time.

On her way back to her seat she drags her fingers across the back of his shoulders and then retakes her seat. Oblivious to the others at the table, she takes a long sip of her drink then makes direct eye contact with him and runs her tongue over her upper lip.

Riley: (stands up) I'll be up late in my room if anyone wants to drop by later. One time offer.

Drake: (eyes wide like a deer in the headlights, watches her leave then spins to the others) She didn't mean.... She wasn't.... You don’t think.....

Max: Dude. I'm fucking gay and even I know....

Hana: are you really this dense? (Then under her breath to herself) what the hell does she see in you?

Liam: (returning from the restroom) What did I miss?

Drake: Riley….

Max: No!

Hana: Nothing!

Liam: (retakes his seat) okay….

Drake: I’m drunk, you should go home! I mean you’re drunk; I should go home. I mean…..

Max: (leans toward him) You’re drunk and you should go home?

Drake: Yeah, thanks, buddy! Bye now! (Claps Max on the shoulder and bolts from the room).

Liam: Where’s Riley?

Max: (pulling him out of his chair) Never mind that, it’s your turn, let’s go sing! Have you ever considered men?

Liam: What?

Max: (laughs nervously) Nothing, never mind.

[effeminatenightmare]

I finally was Willkommen'ed into The Kit Kat Club yesterday and took as many notes as possible... so here they are in no particular order.

Space / Atmosphere + Prologue:

From the moment I walked in it was chaos and it felt like a movie. The energy and music were very reminiscent of David Lynch. The dancers were perfectly marvelous, and the musicians were so jovial. The general transformation of the August Wilson was UNREAL.

Performances:

Eddie Redmayne's Emcee -

Eddie's performance was UNBELIEVABLE. His interactions with the cast were brilliant and he brought a surrealist monster almost Pennywise The Clown meets The Child Catcher quality to the Emcee. So gleefully evil. He was so mesmerizing on the stage. No Alan Cumming, but I definitely felt some Joel Grey echoes in his performance.

Gayle Rankin's Sally Bowles -

Gayle's Sally is far more vulnerable and feels almost like a young adult trying to figure herself out. She's got an incredible voice, too. I laughed a lot at some of her quips.

Ato Blankson-Wood as Clifford Bradshaw -

Ato's Cliff seemed a little sidelined, which I don't know was a directorial choice or what. His Cliff seemed more anxious and confused. It's not a role you can really do much with. He had some really touching moments with Sally.

Bebe Neuwirth's Fraulein Schneider -

Give this woman a Tony. Jesus Christ. I loved the chemistry between her and Steven Skybell's Herr Schultz, very sexy, funny, and reminded me of my aunt. She gave such a beautiful performance with such complexity.

Steven Skybell's Herr Schultz -

He gave such a heartbreaking performance. He was funny, honest, and had such authenticity. It was remarkable. He also deserves a Tony Award.

The Kit Kats Girls and Boys -

I had a couple of interactions with the Kit Kats one being Mimi Scardulla as Texas who enjoyed my outfit. All of them were exquisite, and the costumes were deliciously colorful, and the makeup was amazing!!! 😍

Their choreography was energetic and lively until the very end when it became more controlled like strings were being pulled which was very jarring. The lighting also showed this.

Favorite Moments:

Before the show even started I had a couple fantastic interactions with the prologue dancers and musicians one being Sun Kim who grabbed my Playbill and introduced themselves through it to us.

A few songs into the first act Eddie Redmayne was in within feet of us and walked by us I think before or after "Don't Tell Mama" waved and creepily smirked at me, whilst giving me direct eye contact. I was thinking to myself "Dude, get the hell away from me!" 😂😳

Eddie Redmayne's rendition of "Money" was pure nightmare fuel and reminded me of "Be Prepared" from The Lion King. Especially, when he was risen up to the top. Then, the use of the same costume later on during the reprise of "Tomorrow Belongs To Me" was horrifying and brilliant.

Bebe Neuwirth's "What Would You Do?" destroyed me. The staging and lighting of this song was so impactful and altered me and left me feeling feelings on still having trouble describing.

Gayle Rankin's "Cabaret" reminded me a lot of Jane Horrocks's in her vicious delivery of "Cabaret" which will forever be seared into my brain.

THE. ENDING. It was haunting to see The Emcee go back into the same physicality as in the beginning during "Willkommen" but with a twist it and from where I was sitting it looked like he was trying to form the shape of a swastika with his arms.

Experience Overall -

I'm still trying to process everything and the performances. This blew my mind and I hope to go again!!! This was literally the best thing I've seen on Broadway in a very long time!!! The reviews don't seem to know what they're talking about!!!

[lilac-vapor]

Evisceration

Rating: E 18+

Word Count: 1.3k

Pairing: Sebastian/Female Reader (3rd person, but unnamed and undescribed)

A/N: Find me on Ao3 under Bounteous

She wanted him in the way fires raze entire forests.

Protego!

The force propels her backward, her feet digging into the dirt.

Stupefy!

She’s already forgotten their face before they’ve fallen unconscious.

Glacius! Diffindo!

Arguably her favorite combination. A melting mixture of water and blood trails pink rivulets into the cobblestone; torso and legs parallel like crude renditions of scarecrows. The tip of her wand sizzles and cracks, itching for more fight. It’s nearly sentient, like an extension of the worst parts of herself. 

Shaking, she struggles to lower her arm and relax her grip. There’s no more. Only herself alone in the night and she rarely raises her wand to herself anymore. 

No?

Whimpering shatters her silence. Boots crunch bone and debris, stopping before a mangled hand outstretched toward a wand just barely out of reach. Pitifully sad. His face is terrified, pained. She kneels, presses the tip of her wand against his temple.

A brilliant burst of green light blinds her very eyes, reignites the fire in them. A perfectly wordless incantation of pure intent. A witch without regret clawing from the inside out. No, she cares not at all.

Naught except him.

She flies through the night, storm clouds rolling and thundering in the distance. White-knuckling her broom handle, it’s all she can do not to slip sideways and plummet to her death. The Forbiden Forrest stretches out and over before her, the fiery embers of her bristles skimming and smouldering the very tips of the trees. She smiles, free of inhibition and brimming with magic that numbs the mind and dulls the senses.

His home is nothing but a hovel on the outside; a decrepit, old thing that appears on the verge of imploding. No Floo Flame for invited guests, anti-apparition charms spread out fifty feet in every possible direction. He’s cautious, wary of intruders, protective of his rights against the Ministry.

Her heels drag, her legs shake, her abdomen stutters with leaden breaths. But the desire coursing through her veins keeps her alive and driven. She stumbles, grunts with pain and anger tangled together, steadies herself against the low, stone fence. The door swings open, groaning.

Sebastian, brows narrowed and eyes deadly and wand held within a tight, weathered grip, simply sighs. She looks up at him, her silhouette dangerously beautiful as a flash of lightning arcs between the treetops. Thunder rumbles thereafter, and she curls her lip in agitation, the hand gripping her side tightening.

“I don’t need healing, I need distraction. Fuck me or fuck off.”

His head tilts, lips smirking. “You’re at my doorstep, darling. I should leave you out here for ignoring me for weeks only to come back looking like shite, hoping for a shag to wash away your sins.”

She smirks in kind, blooding dripping down her chin and Sebastian, mesmerized, watches its path of ruin. “Don’t act like you aren’t imagining me split open on your kitchen table right now.”

He takes a step close and his calloused hand, one that’s cursed far more than her and his uncle, tilts her chin up between thumb and forefinger. “You’re fucked up, you know that?”

She always gets what she wants. “You’re fucked up too.” It’s whispered in between lips, in between the ghosting of mingled breath and a history of piled bodies.

She pushes him inside and merely waves two fingers to the slam the door shut.

Their kisses are slick with spit and blood, deadly with desire and other unbidden things they fear to speak of. Though they could simply magic their clothes away, it’s thrilling and primal to rip away shirt buttons and hike up skirts and rip jagged holes down seams.

Sebastian can’t stop his hands from crushing her breasts, pinching and twirling her nipples painfully. And she certainly can’t help the way her mouth trails maroon down chin, down jaw, biting purple marks and drawing more bright red blood from the column of his pretty throat. 

They aim to harm and be harmed, to hurt the way they hurt. 

She throws him onto the couch, his shirt spilling open from where she’d pried the buttons loose. Angry marks from her nails swell across his freckled, heaving chest. Sebastian stares with half-lidded eyes, fingers bunching up at his thighs, a tent in his pants. She kicks off her boots, wrenches herself out of her skirts, and pulls the rest over her head. As she stands before Sebastian, all that’s left of modesty is her tights ripped all to hell by his hands. 

“You should drink—” he starts, breathless and concerned.

“Shut up,” she interrupts, fed up with men’s chivalry and faux solicitude, “all I need is you inside me.” Her legs ache as she sits atop him. “Right now.”

She pulls out his member and sinks onto him without preamble. She sighs and he groans and though it rightfully burns in her legs, her thighs, her core, she keeps her rhythm fast and hard because absolutely nothing will stop her from getting her release. 

Sebastian laps at her neck, dragging his teeth along the tendons straining with her screams. One hand grips a bouncing breast and the other paints a pretty bruise onto her arse. 

He moans vibrations unto her blushing skin, flexing and twitching at the feeling of her fluttering around him. She falters, bruised and battered legs giving out, and he can sense the violent, billowing fury boiling over. 

Sebastian lifts her with the ease of a man given far too much trust, twists her up and over the arm of the couch. The planes of his stomach, his chest, press against her purple-blotted back. He reaches around to grasp at her throat, whispering hotly in her ear, “Let me.”

And he slams into her so hard that she barely catches herself from toppling over onto the floor.

“Oh, fuck!”

He’s brutal and ruthless and unbearable in every way she wanted him to be. His thrusts are harsh, painful in a way only he knows how to be. She lets her head droop into the pillow of her arms, eyes glazing over and body going pliant. And when his hand tightens, her throat constricting, she says not a damn word of complaint. Merely keens and whimpers beneath him.

Sebastian can’t catch a fucking break, letting her circles around him like this. He falls prey to her demands every single time. A quick shag against a tree. A blowjob in the bar’s loo. Her, delectable and enticing, spread before him as he returns home.

She riles him up like no other.

He growls, lips curling, teeth clenching, and lifts her. One hand keeping her breathless and the other finding her clit to get this shit done and over with. Something hot and sticky trails over the hand he’s wrapped around her throat, and he realizes it’s blood from the way she’s bit her lip so hard. Some deep, unbidden, primal part of him wants to lick up and kiss it back into her. 

She screams as she comes undone, voice hoarse and raw, and Sebastian keeps pounding her through it, chasing after his own release. And when he finds it, his seed shooting into her, he, too, screams. 

They stay there for a moment, catching their breath, their knees rubbed red before Sebastian pushes her away. They both wince when he removes himself, and he squeezes his eyes shut, calming himself, as he watches his cum immedately drip out of her. Meanwhile, she stays slumped over, riding the high of Sebastian’s ministrations, entirely unbothered at the way he clearly wants her gone.

But he says absolutely nothing. Merely buttons his pants and slams his bedroom door shut.

[pascalcampion]

Theodore Poussin by Frank Le Gall

Theodore Poussin was one of these stories that appeared in Spirou and right off the bat I was mesmerized by the art work. The first page especially. It was a building on a dark evening, the trees had no leaves, there were boats in the back, and I could tell the ground was wet, or felt wet because of the reflection of the building. It had a very Belgian tradition of being curvy lines rather than a straight edged rendition but something made me pose. It felt…solid? There was a sense of space that caught my eye. The writing was also inviting. Something about a person looking over the paperwork of boats coming from all over the world and dreaming of traveling to these places. At that time in my life, I felt stuck where I was( High school days!) and that story was an invitation to dream travel. I kept reading the story and it kept getting better. It took me a minute but I realized what I was responding too was how the author would create interesting shots. There was a panel of the main character walking on the boat and I felt there. I wanted to be there. It became a game for me, to look for all the interesting shots in the story. MORE than reading the actual story, seeing how it was set up was fascinating because it was a big nose graphic novel doing very cinematic things with the storytelling.( Ok this is ADULT me analyzing this, at the time I don’t think I had the words to articulate these thoughts, I just saw cool shots). Eventually,I read the books more for the way the story was told, then the stories themselves. I re read the books a few years ago and realized I remembered almost nothing of it. It was a pleasant surprise because the stories are really good.Gosh, I feel horrible saying this because as a storyteller I want people to respond to the stories as well as the art.  Interesting that even as an adult with decades of experience in the industry I still get surprised by how I approach certain things. Theodore Poussin is an adventure story that is filled with mood, hot nights, busy ports, rainy ships and Intrigue. Something I did really appreciate re reading the books is to see how the creator made the character evolve, age, mature through the books. He is aware of the adventures he’s had before and what it has done to him.

#TheodorePoussin