#but i put my guitar back on its stand which is where i keep my sticks too and saw that one n started thinkin bout it

[lmitations]

was thinking about one of the first times my brother got mad at me, maybe the first i remember, but def first i can currently remember. under readmore bc it got slightly long

i had written "i love you" on a pair of his drumsticks and gave them to him, and he got pretty upset, though i think was trying to not blow up at me. i own those now, and i realized theyre really good drumsticks, probably his best pair at the time, so i really get it. but i do wonder if him getting mad at me for expressing a single-digit-year old's affection at the time contributed to anything in me that i carry with me now.

anyway my brother and i are super close as adults (since i was an older teen as well) and im happy to have his drumsticks, and what i retained from his percussion knowledge. i do think itd be worth talking to him a little about this besides what i already have ("wow these are good drumsticks lmao. sorry i wrote on them all those years ago" "yes lol they were, its alright") i wonder how he felt at the time, what he thought

[dy6nsty]

*slides underneath your door discreetly*

request for sleep token with a uh..*checks notes* another female (reader) in the band? like one who plays an instrument and sometimes does backing vocals? don't feel obligated to do it, luv u dear ♡♡

══════════════════════

MY JAW DROPPED WHEN I SAW THIS. YES.

Sleep Token x Fem!Band member

ReaderRelationship: Rom [Fem nicknames used!]

══════════════════════

Vessel:

He’s content with having both a back up vocalist and guitarist. Now he has two which comes in handy!

Likes to put you in parts where both of your voices mix together. Soft songs or songs that leave more into the metal side its a good mix between the both of you.

Gets a little touchy when singing next to you (If you do get to roam with the microphone like he does)

Loves your voice in general, has a smile on his face when you start singing with him.

Back to the thigh thing. I’m betting money he still grabs your thighs. Sexual or not it’s a satisfying thing to him when he’s singing and you’re strumming the guitar.

══════════════════════

IV:

Gentle kissing randomly. Motions with his hands for you to come over and starts kissing down until you smack him to stop.

‘helps’ fix ur instrument. But instead he’s just adding a reason to come over to you.

He can fix your guitar.. But most of the time he has a tendency to hold it above your head for a while to see how high you can jump.

Stands next to you while you do your vocal parts, definitely would tease you but doesn’t want you to get distracted. (He already distracted.)

Stole your microphone once. Vessel was pissed since you had to follow late behind him.

Calls you “Pretty girl.” I don’t make rules, it’s just written for me. He finds your voice absolutely gorgeous.

══════════════════════

III:

We’ve seen him with IV. Now with you? No gentle kissing, you’re getting aggressive ones. (Who doesn’t tho.)

Goes over your lyrics / parts in rehearsals together or in private to spend time with you.

Stomping sessions feel necessary. He’ll stomp over to you with his guitar and look dumbfounded if you don’t stomp back to him.

Beckons for you to come over so he can kiss you. (This band kisses like every thirty minutes.)

SINGING? Weak in his knees. Bopping his head or singing under his breath with you. “Your voice is really… pretty.” He continues on with many words to describe your voice.

══════════════════════

II:

Can’t really go anywhere but his fingers can surely make motions!

Compliments your singing after the show or when you come up to his little area.

Watches you play your instrument or stomp around with IV and III when you play guitar

Waits for you to come over to him but will wave his hands in the air if it takes you a little while. Give him a lil kiss.

EYE CONTACT. He is keeping eye-contact while you play/sing. He has full eyes on you, especially if you have a solo.

══════════════════════

Felt to horny in the first version so I tried to clean it up :)

[literaryvein-reblogs]

hello hello! i love your blog and it has been a fantastic resource for me. if i may ask, how does one go about writing music? my character is put in a situation where listening to a song is a large part of a scene, and i want to describe the song and music itself. while i would describe a guitar or drum, the song i have in mind specifically is mostly digital (think similar to edm) so i'm not sure how to do it. do you have any idea how i could tackle this?

thank you in advance!

Writing Notes: Electronic Music

Electronic Music - any music involving electronic processing, such as recording and editing on tape, and whose reproduction involves the use of loudspeakers.

It is produced from a wide variety of sound resources—from sounds picked up by microphones to those produced by electronic oscillators (generating basic acoustical waveforms such as sine waves, square waves, and sawtooth waves), complex computer installations, and microprocessors—that are recorded on tape and then edited into a permanent form.

Generally, except for one type of performed music that has come to be called “live electronic music”, electronic music is played back through loudspeakers either alone or in combination with ordinary musical instruments.

Musicians are always quick to adopt and explore new technologies.

The fast-paced changes wrought by electrification, from the microphone via the analogue synthesizer to the laptop computer, have led to a wide range of new musical styles and techniques.

Electronic music has grown to a broad field of investigation, taking in historical movements such as musique concrète and elektronische Musik, and contemporary trends such as electronic dance music and electronica.

The Art of Noises (1913) by Luigi Russolo is an important text in the history of electronic music, because it is the first attempt seriously to categorise all sounds and, indeed, to treat them as potential music.

Russolo wrote:

Every manifestation of our life is accompanied by noise. The noise, therefore, is familiar to our ear, and has the power to conjure up life itself. Sound, alien to our life, always musical and a thing unto itself, an occasional but unnecessary element, has become to our ears what an overfamiliar face is to our eyes. Noise, however, reaching us in a confused and irregular way from the irregular confusion of our life, never entirely reveals itself to us, and keeps innumerable surprises in reserve. We are therefore certain that by selecting, coordinating and dominating all noises we will enrich men with a new and unexpected sensual pleasure. Although it is characteristic of noise to recall us brutally to real life, the art of noise must not limit itself to imitative reproduction. It will achieve its most emotive power in the acoustic enjoyment, in its own right, that the artist’s inspiration will extract from combined noises. Here are the 6 families of noises of the Futurist orchestra which we will soon set in motion mechanically:

Rumbles: Roars, explosions, crashes, splashes, booms

Whistles: Hisses, snorts

Whispers: Murmurs, mumbles, grumbles, gurgles

Screeches: Creaks, rustles, buzzes, crackles, scrapes

Noises obtained by percussion: Metal, wood, skin, stone, terracotta etc.

Voices of animals and men: Shouts, screams, groans, shrieks, howls, laughs, wheezes, sobs

In this inventory we have encapsulated the most characteristic of the fundamental noises; the others are merely the associations and combinations of these.

Some Electronic Music Vocabulary

ADSR – Stands for Attack, Decay, Sustain and Release – refers to the envelope [i.e., characteristic of a sound (e.g. volume or filter) as it changes over time; can be used as a tool to shape a sound over time] applied to a sound to shape it over time. Can be applied to the volume, filter, pitch or more. Can make things sound plucky, soft, or ambient etc.

Aliasing – Subtle distortion that occurs in the digital realm when the input frequency is higher than the sample rate. The sample cannot be measured accurately and thus introduces imperfections into the sound.

Ambience – Can refer to a sound in a track which creates a sense of space or atmosphere – typically achieved by the use of time-based audio effects such as delays and reverbs. Also can refer to the level of sound in a recording that contains background noise, separate to the intended recording. Typically this background noise is undesirable, but sometimes it is an aesthetic choice.

Arpeggiator – A MIDI Effect that turns a static chord into an arpeggio. If that doesn’t make sense, it makes things go bleep-bleep-bleep.

Atmosphere – A sonic effect created by reverb, long tails and quieter sounds. Referred to as the background of a track.

Beat Repeat – A type of effect that takes audio as an input and repeats the snippet back at timed intervals to create a glitch effect.

Chill – A loosely-defined term to describe the sound of more relaxed, deeper and melody-driven music in electronic music. Sometimes people refer to this as a genre in itself.

Distortion – The processing of audio such that extra harmonics and loudness are added, creating a more fuller or aggressive sound. Distortion types include tube, clipping, tape, diode, overdrive, fuzz and many more.

Doppler Effect – The sonic effect of frequencies sounding higher pitched when moving closer to an audio source, and lower pitched when moving away. Like when you drive past a police siren.

Formant – A vocal quality of a sound relating to vowels, and a filter type that achieves a vowel-like sound. If you’ve ever heard an ‘oooh’ or ‘aaah’, then you’ve heard what a formant sounds like.

Gate – An audio effect that reduces the volume of a sound once it passes below a certain threshold. It’s good for reducing background noise or unwanted sounds in a recording or sample. Just like your gate at home stops unwanted people coming into your house.

Glide – Portamento—when the pitch slides evenly from note to note

Lazer – A type of sound made by a synth that features fast-moving pitch envelopes to create a ‘pew pew’ type effect.

Masking – A phenomenon when two sounds with similar frequency content cause one to become ‘buried’ due to phase cancellation or differences is loudness. For example, two piano sounds playing at the same time might cause one of them to sound less powerful and thin in the mix.

Normalize – Increases a waveform’s level to its highest before it becomes distorted

Panning – The process of moving a sound either left or right in the stereo field. Panning is a great mix technique to achieve width and space.

Polar Pattern – The way a microphone picks up a sound. Some pickup sound in many directions, others only in one direction, and everything in between.

Reflections – Part of a reverb that creates echoes based off sounds hitting walls and bouncing around rapidly.

Transient – The initial start point of a drum sound, where the audio goes from near silence to sudden loudness. Sounds clicky.

Voice stealing – When a synthesizer is programmed to play more sounds than accessible voices shuts down some present voices so new tunes can be played

Tips for Writing About Music

The most important step when writing about music is to write, read, and listen to as much as possible. Writing hones your voice, while reading exposes you to various styles and information that will shape your writing. The wider the range of music you embrace and study, the better your perspective and critical ear.

Read about music: Understand as much as possible about music, from instrumentation to how artists create their song lyrics. Reading also helps teach the technical vocabulary specific to certain genres. To help you gain a better command of music, use music writing reference books, such as A Short Guide to Writing About Music by Jonathan Bellman and How to Write About Music, edited by Marc Woodworth and Ally-Jane Grossan. Both of these works discuss how to research and write about music effectively, and are great resources for new music writers.

Stay informed: Develop an understanding of news, events, and cultural conversations that inform songwriters. For example, understanding the politics behind Russian feminist collective/punk group Pussy Riot is necessary if you want to write an informed piece on their output.

Learn music theory: The more informed your technical language, the better your music writing will be. Elements such as BPM, timbre, crescendos, adagio, and other music sounds will help you more deeply understand a particular piece of music and its relationship to other songs on an album.

Listen to music: Don’t only listen to genres that you prefer, but expand your ear to different types of music. Artists are inspired by music across time and genre, and the best music critics recognize those references.

Put work out: Whether you join your school’s paper, do creative writing, or start your own blog, getting eyes on your work is imperative to improving your music writing. There are also online resources that aggregate opportunities and writing prompts for writers of all experience levels, providing a great opportunity for new writers to get their foot in the door.

Pitch to publications: Online and print publications are always looking for new pitches from writers. The more places you pitch, the more likely it is that you will sell a piece. Don’t be discouraged if you pitch one outlet and never hear back. Lean into your passion, keep writing, and pitch some more.

Also describe the effects of the song to your character/s. The effects of music can be described using various adjectives like relaxing, calm, refreshing, soothing, etc.

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Thanks so much, really glad to hear this! Choose which of these notes would be most appropriate to incorporate in your story. Do go through the sources as there are more information I wasn't able to include here.

Another reference on music-related terms, plus some great additions. And more resources that could help with describing sounds and scenes related to music in your story:

Words to Describe Sounds

100 Sensory Words

Some Percussion Instruments

Some Pop Music Vocabulary

Writing Template: Singing Scene

Finding the right words that could accurately describe the specific song you have in mind to your readers is one way to tackle this, but it's definitely a challenge. Hope you find the right words/references here!

[mt-oe]

𝙎𝙝𝙚'𝙨 𝙆𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙖 𝙃𝙤𝙩—bandmate mizu

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dears!

I'm so so sorry for not being able to keep up with requests that well. My program is taking a lot of my time and beating the shit out of me (esp. u immunology and serology >:c).

Anyways, here's a sort of prequel for my headcanons because band au Mizu is so yummy.

Enjoy! Mwa mwa:*

warning: not proofread, she/her for mizu, will refer to her as a boy (bc she canonically appears like a man), implied afab reader

"But you're so good at playing the guitar, and you have the charisma too. You should definitely join our band. Even our manager is amazing. She—"

"For the last time, Ringo. I don't want to join your stupid band."

Mizu and Ringo were already getting ready to go home after finishing their term-end project for their elective, which just so happened to be music. She didn't really think it through when she enlisted and just picked whichever she thought was the easiest. Ringo, however, just picked the same elective as Mizu.

She carefully placed her electric guitar in its case, zipping it up and securing the locks before slinging it over her shoulder. "I have better things to do and joining a band is a waste of time," she added as she walked up to the door.

Ringo followed after her, a smile still on his face despite the rejection. "You never know. This might even be your calling," he chimed as they exited the room, making her groan out of annoyance. They headed into the parking lot where Mizu's bike was parked. "We have an audition in a week if you want," he said, waiting for his friend to put on her helmet.

Once Mizu was finished putting on her helmet, she hopped on and leaned forward, pushing her weight to retract the center stand. "Not interested," she groaned out, slightly muffled behind her helmet. Her foot kickstarted the bike on before she revved the engine up a bit.

"Well if you decide to change your mind, just send me a message." Ringo stepped back a bit to give Mizu some space to move. She grunted in response and drove forward, leaving her friend waving and shout goodbyes at her.

What's so great about joining a stupid band anyway?

It's probably just filled with pretentious kids pretending to be as good as their idols but can't even memorize which strings their hammer ons should be.

Another groan escaped her lips the more she thought about the offer. It was annoying. Yet, a somehow, a small part of her wanted to play even more. The desire ringing at the back of her head like an itch she couldn't scratch off.

What if she did join?

What if it was as much fun as Ringo always said it was?

A sigh escaped her lips at how bothered she was by her thoughts. Why was she even thinking about this? She can always play her instruments at home. A crowd wouldn't make a difference, she thought as the wind whizzed past.

Her thoughts continued to race as she drove home. This band thing was stupid. Maybe she shouldn't attend the audition after a—

"Hey goofy boy!" a voice called out.

'What? Me?' she thought, lifting her visor to look around for the source of the voice. Across the stoplight, she saw another woman waving at her enthusiastically. It was almost ridiculous to look at. She raised an eyebrow, looking at her sides and behind her to see if you were talking to someone else before pointing to herself inquisitively.

"Yes you! Across the stoplight! C'mere!" you yelled, signaling her to stop in front of the cafe you were standing in front of, not really caring if other people were looking at you with how silly you were being.

Her blue eyes narrowed at you, clearly suspicious of your intentions. And yet, the way you were smiling and calling her over made her feel...something. Once the light turned green, she drove over to you, pulling up at the lot in front of the cafe.

You walked over to her, letting out a sigh of relief as she kicked the side stands on. "What do you want?" she asked in a low voice that clearly indicated that she didn't trust you even one bit.

"That.." You pointed to the guitar case on her back, making her raise an eyebrow cautiously. What did you want with her baby huh? She was so ready to throw hands.

"What model? And how long have you been playing?" you asked, still pointing to her guitar. Mizu looked over her shoulder being sighing. This was a waste of time. "I'm not inclined to tell you that," she replied, getting ready to kick her side stands off.

You snorted at her cold reply before leaning closer until she was face-to-face with you no matter how much she pulled away. The proximity allowing her to take in your features better and you were quite...pretty?

No. Wait.

Let's focus on how much of nuisance you were being.

Before she could even kick off her side stands, you already blocked her foot with yours. "Join our band," you said in a serious tone, showing her a business card before placing it in her jacket, smile still on your face.

Mizu groaned and rolled her eyes. "No. Now get your foot off before I kick it off," she replied. Yet, you kept your foot in the way of her stands, making her eyebrows knit together. "You look really goofy riding that bike of yours with a huge ass guitar case on your back," you said, eyes glancing at her guitar case before staring into her eyes intently. "You have talent, don't you?"

The smile on your face despite how serious and forward you were being was unnerving. "So what? I'm not going to join your band," she said in a low voice. Indeed, she was quite stubborn, but nowhere near your level. This motorist was the diamond in the rough you were looking for. "Goofy boy, join me in the café. It's my treat."

There was no way she's going into that café just for you to give her your sales talk and convince her to join your stupid unknown band. Not in a million years

—was what she thought.

Yet here she was, helmet off and sitting in front of you with a cup of matcha latte, watching you take a bite out of the cake you bought for yourself. After taking a slow sip, she sighed and narrowed her eyes at you. "I thought we were here talk about your band," she scoffed.

You smiled at her yet again, fork still in between your lips. "You're not going to talk right away, right? So let's take our time." A small 'tch' escaped her lips as she leaned back against the chair.

"Fine. I'll talk," she replied, staring at you up and down. Now that she was able to sit down and relax the tiniest bit, she was finally taking her time to look at you. And you weren't an eyesore at all. In fact, you were really fucking cute.

She's still not joining your band though.

A small giggle escaped your lips as you placed the fork down, resting your elbows on the table and intertwining your fingers together. "What model?" you asked, eyes darting to the guitar case beside your table.

Mizu glanced at it as her hands wrapped around the handle of her cup. "A les paul," she replied before taking a sip. Your smile widened before you took a sip from your cup as well, setting it down when she set hers down. "How long have you been playing?"

"Long enough," she replied, glancing at you, rolling her eyes at how you stared at her with curiosity, as if coercing her to tell more. "Fine, fine...before I started high school. I think. Maybe even longer."

You hummed in satisfaction and took another bite out of your cake. "Any other instruments?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow back at you. "A bass. A mustang."

Silence washed over both of you as you continued to eat your cake, making her feel a bit nervous. A small clink was heard as you put your fork down after taking your final bite. "What's your name, goofy boy?"

"Mizu," she replied before taking her drink into her hands. She downed it in one go, placing the cup down and picking her guitar case up. "This is pointless. I'm leaving," she said in a low husky voice, getting ready to stand up.

It was clear to her that she shouldn't have given so much time to you. She wasn't even interested in joining. Maybe if you weren't so cute, she wouldn't have tried to hear you out.

Before she can even stand up, you beat her to it, pushing her back down on the chair gently. Her eyes widened ever so slightly as you leaned forward again.

"I'll make you a star."

Huh?

Her clear surprise and confusion made you giggle. What the hell were you talking about? You pulled away and placed your hands on your hips, giving her a confident smile.

"Talent recognizes talent, Mizu. It may not be now, but I'll make you a star," you beamed.

Mizu blinked before scoffing. "That's ridiculous," she sneered before standing up and putting her helmet on. "For the last time, I'm not fucking joining your stupid audition."

Was what she said.

But here she was, a week later, sitting down inside the studio hallway. Her eyes watched as the auditionees chatted amongst themselves. Those who were done with the audition complaining about how strict the judge was, who she learned was just one person.

Her nerves were sending jitters to the tips of fingers, her throat tightening up slightly in anticipation. She closed her eyes and took a deep inhale before exhaling slowly. Just as she opened her eyes, she jumped slightly at the sight of a familiar pair of feet in front of her.

"I knew you were going to change your mind," her friend's voice chimed.

Looking up, she made eye contact with Ringo who was beaming at her, drumsticks tied to his stubby hands. "But how did you know where our studio is?"

This was the band Ringo was talking about? Oh boy.

She grunted and handed him the business card you snuck into her jacket. "The address is written there," she said with a sigh. He let out a small "oh" before his eyes widened even more. "So you've met her before," he replied cheerfully, handing the business card back.

"Who?" she asked, a serious yet curious look on her face. He looked confused for a moment before he replied, "Our manager. The one who handed you that card?" She wanted to ask more questions, but then a voice suddenly called for the drummer. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I gotta go. Bye!"

Upon Ringo leaving, Mizu sat back down and closed her eyes again, resting her elbows on her knees.

Some time later, all the auditionees had finished and yet, it seems that all of them had been rejected. "This is a waste of time. I should have left earlier," she muttered to herself.

Just as she was about to leave the studio, her name was called, leaving her with no choice. Slowly, she entered the room only to be greeted with—

"You came!" your voice beamed.

Her eyes scanned around the room to see you sitting down on a chair, holding some papers, as well as the other band members presumably. "And you're the manager apparently," she said plainly. A chuckle escaping your lips as you nodded. "You can get ready whenever you want to."

Once her guitar was plugged in and ready to go, she looked up at you again, waiting for any further instructions. Despite her mind telling her that there was nothing to be nervous about, her gut was squeezing and churning from anticipation.

Should she do her best? Or should she fuck this up?

Your eyes watched her carefully, observing how she handled her guitar. "Play any song you'd like," you said, leaning forward in your seat as you set the papers down on a chair beside you.

No. She didn't want to be in this stupid band. She's not going to do her best.

Why the fuck would she do that?

This wasn't even worth it.

Nononononononono—

She looked down on her guitar before beginning to strum the familiar intro of Smells Like Teen Spirit. Despite her bobbing her head slightly, it was clear through her body language that she wasn't even trying at all.

The smile on your face slowly disappeared until all that was left was an unreadably neutral expression. Once she was done, she looked at you with a bored expression. "Well?"

You sighed at her, giving her the same bored expression back, making her smirk a bit. "Guess I'm not in, am I?" She unplugged her guitar, getting ready to put it back in the case before your hands stopped her.

"Sit back down. We're not done," you said in a serious tone, facial expression neutral yet your eyes told her that you were daaaaaaaamn annoyed with how little of an effort she put in. The look in your eyes, they way you were gripping the neck of her guitar, did something to her. "I don't owe you a performance," she replied.

You glared at her lightly before snatching her guitar from her hands, causing her to glare at you. She tried to grab her guitar back but you kept evading her as you plugged it back in. Once it was plugged back on, you pushed towards her, making her stumble back a bit from how harsh you did it.

"Now sit down and play. Talent recognizes talent, Mizu," you growled at her. The scene causing everyone in the room to go quiet. It was clear to them that you were pissed. "If not, then sell that guitar. You're wasting it."

After all, the only thing you hated more than the equipment suddenly breaking was wasted potential. And Mizu was wasting a LOT of potential.

Your words struck a nerve in her causing her. With a loud screech, she pulled the chair towards her and sat down. "Fine. If it gets you to shut the fuck up."

She looked at you with one final glare as she leaned back, hands beginning to move against her guitar.

She began playing Hotel California, immediately skipping to the guitar rift at the end of the song.

By the normal person's ear, it wasn't anything special. There were more impressive sounding songs out there. But to you, you knew how difficult it was to get the tone of the song right with how slow it was compared to other rifts. If she made a mistake here, a wrong pluck, a wrong drag, a wrong vibrato, the mistake would be so painfully obvious.

And yet, here Mizu was, playing it perfectly with the same angry look on her face. She was damn mad at you for touching her guitar, for pushing her towards your stupid fucking band. And yet, she couldn't help but want to impress you.

Did she really not want to be in the band?

Why was she trying so fucking hard then?

Like her body was moving on its own.

Like her hands were itching to play more.

As she ended the song, she looked down at the ground. Suddenly, the sound of clapping caused her to perk up and look at you. The sight causing her breath to hitch a blush to dust over her cheeks. That was when she knew the answer to her question.

It was you and your proud little smile.

That cute fucking smile.

All the annoyance and anger you held at her melted off during her little performance. You knew you saw talent. The moment you saw that goofy looking motorist with the awkwardly large hard guitar case at the stoplight, talent already hit you like a damn truck.

Although she knew you were satisfied with her performance, she couldn't help but want to try more. She'll try. She'll damn try for the hottest fucking manager she has ever seen. Her earlier hesitations of whether she wanted to join the band or not disappearing.

Call it a gay agenda but she was going to secure this fucking spot. She'll be best fucking guitarist you have ever heard or seen.

Just as you were about to congratulate her, she raised a hand up to cut you off. "Wait—fuck—that was too easy. I... goddamnit. Wait, I'll try doing something harder," she said in a panicked slur.

Her hands immediately went back to her guitar, eyes narrowing in thought. If an impressive guitar rift was what she needed...

Suddenly, she began playing the guitar rift for Free Bird. Eyes glued to her guitar, palms sweating a bit as she hit every chord, every pluck, every fucking bend.

You couldn't place your finger on what it was, but somehow, it felt like she was playing more passionately. Like she was putting her all into this one song. Was it the way she was bobbing her head? Or the way she moved her guitar during every vibrato? Maybe the way her body moved with the music?

Once the song ended, she closed her eyes and let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. You couldn't help but giggle at how flustered she looked, making her blush again.

"Am I in?" she asked, looking at you with hidden desperation in her eyes, making you giggle even more. Her eyebrows furrowed as you continued to laugh, not really answering her question. "Well?"

A gulp went down her throat as you stood up from your chair and picking up the papers you previously held. "Mizu," you giggled out, "You were already in from the moment you tried again."

...

oh

Well that was embarrassing.

You handed her the contract and a pen, humming as she read the content before signing. Looking at her signature, your smile widened. This flustered looking guitarist was exactly what you were looking for and you just hit jackpot.

"You won't regret this, Mizu. I swear." She glanced at you, scanning the big smile you had on your face before looking down at her guitar and unplugging it. "I better not."

Suddenly, you lunged forward at her. Her eyes widened when you suddenly took her hand in yours, intertwining your fingers together. "Talent recognizes talent," you repeated, leaning closer to her, grip tightening with every word.

"I'll make you a star."

She'll be your star.

[jooyeonsvape]

hello, jealousy: seungmin

genre: smut

w/c: 3.5k

pairings: female!reader, rough!seungmin

warnings: a lil fluff, jealousy, cursing, oral, rough sex, degradation

a/n: this is a request by my bestie @sug4r-latte, i hope you like it!! ily <3333 i made it extra long just for you!!

its your first day as a new trainee for the girl group jype created to showcase different cultures, and you were the french member. there was american, french, australian, canadian, and chinese.

you weren’t exactly sure where to go so you find a directory board, tapping your head in confusion. “are you one of the new trainees?” a voice behind you asked politely, noticing your guitar strapped to your back, and you turn around, bowing at the recognizable face.

oh seungmin, or o.de from one of your favorite krock bands is standing infront of you, waiting for a response but it didn’t feel like real life, so you just stared at his features. “i was told you spoke korean, let me go find the manager.”

when you realize you caused confusion and are inconveniencing seungmin, the day dream ends, snapping you back to reality. “im sorry, i do speak korean, im just a little overwhelmed. yes, i’m [Y/N], the new trainee.”

seungmin gives an awkward laugh and bows again, “i’m here to be your guide for the day, follow me to the practice room.” you nod and stay close to the tall man, wondering what the other girls will be like.

you walk past the iconic michael jackson wall and everything sits in as seungmin gives you information about what room is which, what time everything is open, but you unintentionally block him out.

“the rest of the members are in here as well, along with my band, and since we’re going to be sharing this space, we will be deciding on practice schedules so we don’t overlap with each other.”

you hum and nod, surprised you’re meeting all of xdinary heroes when you’ve only been in the building for 10 minutes.

when the both of you walk in, all of the members cheer and your face turns red, waving excitedly at everyone.

after introducing yourself to all of the members, you also greet the boys, telling them how big of a fan you are and they have noticeably blushing faces.

gunil concludes the meeting and hands all of your band members a set schedule on when you get the practice room, then the boys leave with polite bows.

your manager told the 5 of you, you didn’t have to start right away, and he urged you all to go to the new dorm room you’d be staying in, so you could unpack.

you told the girls to go without you and stayed for a bit, strumming on your guitar lazily, looking around the room at xdinary heroes instruments in awe.

after an hour of practicing the guitar, you pack up, and leave to the address your manager gave you. it was going to be your new home for the time being and the best part, you were sharing it with your band members.

you unlock the door to the apartment and walk in with a happy yell. “we’re officially trainees!” your smile dropped when you see hyeongjun eating cereal at the kitchen table, jooyeon and jiseok playing video games, and seungmin freshly showered with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

they all look at you with surprised expressions and you slap your hands over your eyes after seeing seungmin half naked, “i’m sorry, this is the address i was given!!”

you hear feet shuffling away fast, which you assumed to be seungmin, and you slowly move your hands, still keeping your eyes shut. “can i open now?”

jiseok was laughing from awkwardness, “yes, but i think they made a huge mistake, i’ll call and settle things.”

all of the boys including you were in the living room, waiting for jiseok to get off the phone and by the look of his face it wasn’t good. he hung up with a deep sigh, and puts his arms behind his head. “well..?” gunil speaks up after a few moments of awkward silence.

“jype rented the dorm to where only 4 people can live there, if someone else lives there they can all be kicked out with no where to live. the manager suggested finding a cheap one bedroom apartment around here but since they’re trainees, it can’t be a lot of money and seoul is pretty expensive.”

your mouth hung open as he spoke and you sigh, “i don’t want to live by myself…” you feel an arm wrap around your shoulders and see seungmin holding you. “then she’ll stay here, they probably sent her to us because we have a contract of 7 people in this apartment, but there’s only 6 of us. she’s new to the area and shouldn’t be alone.”

you smile brightly and look around the room at the rest of the boys to see if they agreed, which by their heads nodding, they did.

“she can sleep in my room, i’m the only one without a roommate, i don’t mind sleeping on the couch until we figure this out.” gunil raised his hand as he spoke and you felt guilty but you knew if you argued he’d dismiss it.

“thank you guys, i’ll go get my things and start unpacking, i’m sorry for the trouble.” you mumble and bow before you left.

it’s been 2 weeks since you started living with 6 boys and so far it hasn’t been bad. you ended up with the job of waking jooyeon up every morning because the other guys knew he wouldn’t yell at you, but it’s fun singing him awake.

today was an off day, along with seungmin and jungsu so you planned on hanging with them all day because you haven’t made any other friends at jype yet.

you begin noticing little things seungmin did for you; like when he ordered his morning coffee, he always got one for you as well and when the other members complain about him not getting them one, he comes back with a quick, “you have two feet right?”

or when he makes sure you’re always the first one to shower so you don’t end up with no hot water and it’s starting to cause questions in your head.

you’ve even heard the boys talking about how they think he likes you and without any thought, you knock on seungmin’s door. “come in.”

you open it slowly and give him an awkward smile, “want to hang out?” he looked you up and down without meaning to then clears his throat, “sure, what do you want to do?” you step fully in his room and shrug, “do you like video games?”

his head nods and you smile brightly, “i’ll be right back, i’m going to get my laptop!” you return a few moments later and sit on his bed, by his face you could tell he was surprised. “sorry, i have a habit of making myself at home.”

seungmin smiles and shakes his head, “it’s okay, you can stay, what shall we play?” your mind wonders out of the hundreds of games you know, then it hits you.

“we should play sims, i’ll make a sim of you, and you can make a sim of me.” seungmin hides his face in his pillow that was next to him and comes back up, laughing. “i need to get used to having a female roommate.”

after a few hours, you turn your screen to him and show the sim that looks exactly like him, but when he shows yours, your smile dropped. “you made me into an alien!” the both of you were laughing and you hold your stomach, falling onto his lap from laughter.

you open your eyes to see seungmin looking down at you from his lap, his adams apple bobbing from his hard swallow.

before you could sit up from this uncomfortable situation, seungmin leans down and leaves a peck on your lips. your eyes go wide and when he pulls away, you wrap an arm around his neck so he could kiss you again.

the makeout session was getting intense, hands were roaming around, and his breath enhanced. as soon as he got ahold of your breast and a moan left your mouth, he pulls away. “sorry, we can’t do this…”

with a mix of embarrassment, frustration, and anger, you get up from his bed, locking yourself in your room for the rest of the night.

a plan ensued the days to follow. you made sure not to drink the coffee he bought, and if he spoke to you, you only responded with nods or one word responses.

one day when seungmin, hyeongjun, and you were home alone, hyeongjun took an interest in learning french, so he was asking you questions.

seungmin was in the kitchen, listening to the both of you and gripped the dish he was washing tightly in his hand when he hears your overly loud flirty laugh. “junnie, you’re my favorite roommate!”

you see in your peripheral seungmin with a plate still clutched in his hand, “here’s my card, go out.” he growls to hyeongjun, throwing the card in his lap, staring you down the entire time.

he looks at the both of you in confusion, but slowly understood, and leaves you alone with mad seungmin. “bastard.” you whisper to yourself at jun for leaving.

“go to my room and lay on the bed, i’ll be there soon.” the demanding tone in his voice made your body shoot up and run to his room without question.

“what is he going to do? he’s not my boss, i should stand up and leave.. i’m mad at him anyway.”

your thoughts were disrupted by seungmin walking in his room and locking the door behind him. you gulp, this side of him is different from the friendly and funny man you know.

“i know you’re upset with me because of the other day, but i’ve noticed the more revealing clothes and flirting with the members infront of me. are you trying to get revenge then?” seungmin spoke clearly and you were the one finding it hard to speak.

“n-no, not reven-“ “shut up.” he aggressively spat, walking to his bed, taking off his shirt. “well, i’m about to get my revenge too.”

you gave another gulp, squeezing your legs together at the sight of his muscles. “get undressed.” he smirks, kneeling on his bed so he had a good view.

you nod rapidly, taking off your pink crop top and pajama shorts with haste. he chuckles at you not wearing underwear, admiring your body and thinking of all the things he wants to do to you.

“get on your knees.” seungmin commands and stands up from the bed to see you crawling towards him on the ground so you were eye level to his abdomen. “what are you waiting for?”

you slip his pajama shorts off quickly and watch his hard dick flop out, making your mouth water. you take him in your throat instantly, bobbing your head with a slow pace.

he grabs both sides of your head and pulls his dick out, slamming it back in, making you gag loud. he smirks at the sound and does it again, harder.

seungmin wanted you to suffer so he used your mouth like he would your pussy, banging it in and out rough. you knew he was about to cum by his twitching face and messy thrusts.

“you deserve to be treated like a whore since you act like one.” he groans, throwing his head back and not caring if you could breathe or not. he thrusts once again, harder this time and stays in the back of your throat longer.

before he could cum, he swiftly pulls out, saliva from your mouth and tears run down your face, making your makeup smear. “lay down, spread your legs.” he breathlessly tells you, climbing on the bed himself.

you follow his commands, laying on your back with your legs spread wide open. “pretty little cunt.” he smirks, trailing one of his fingers from your clit to your hole.

“how are you so wet? were you waiting for me?” he teases, spitting on your clit to get it wetter. you nod and whine, bucking your hips for more. “tell me what you want baby girl. my mouth? my fingers? both?”

“both please.” you whine again and he chuckles, kitty licking your clit to tease you, feeling your juices run down your pussy.

“please seungmin.” you pout, looking down at his evil eyes. he finally nods and takes your clit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the nub with a hum.

the pleasure shoots up your body and you take both boobs in your hands, squeezing them hard. “lets see how many fingers your slutty pussy can take.” seungmin goes back to your clit, sliding one of his fingers in slow. “you’re already filled up baby, i don’t know how you’re going to take my cock.”

you moan loud at his finger and wrap one of your legs around his back so he could go deeper. he pulls away from your clit so he could focus on fingering you and adds another one.

the feeling of your hole stretching hurt but felt amazing at the same time. seungmin curls his fingers inside you, your walls tighten and he smirks, adding another one.

“if you cum without permission, i’ll make sure you won’t be able to sit tomorrow.” his tone was serious but you already felt like cumming so you hold back.

“i don’t think i can take any more fingers.” you whimper, your walls were stretched as wide as they could go and he nods, pumping his fingers fast.

sweat built on your forehead from the pleasure and your hand goes to his hair, pulling on it gently. he could tell you were close so he leans down to your hole and licks the top, with his nose brushing your clit.

“im about to-“ your voice was hoarse from his dick and moaning but he loved it. seungmin pulls his fingers out, kissing your pussy once more and flips you over. “ass out baby girl.”

you go to your shaking knees and turn your head back to see him jerking himself before slamming hard into your pussy from behind.

a loud moan escapes your mouth and he grabs the back of your hair, making you go face down. “i should cum inside of you right now and not let you cum, that would be great revenge.” seungmin growls, slapping one of your ass cheeks hard.

you yell and shoot your head up when he slaps your ass, you’ve never been slapped before but it felt so good. “then do it.” you say back, wanting to piss him off.

seungmin smirks and groans loud, slapping you again harder, already leaving a red mark from his strength. “i wouldn’t give me attitude right now baby, i dont have a problem with leaving you here filled with my cum.” he groans, throwing his head back.

you think of the worst thing you could possibly say and smirk to yourself. “if you don’t let me cum, i guess i’ll have to ask hyeongjun to do it, i see the way he stares at my ass, i’m sure he’d love to fill me up.”

seungmin stops his movements and flips you around, looking deep in your eyes with anger, gripping your throat. “only i can fuck you, got that?” you nod fast and he grabs both of your wrists, pinning them to the bed while pounding into your pussy again.

“say my name.” he commands, kissing the side of your neck with a groan, his thrusts never slowing down.

“seungmin, fuck me harder.” you whine and he groans, leaving a hickey on your collarbone while you scratch his back in pleasure when he lets your wrists go. “again.”

“seungmin!!” you scream again, his dick hitting perfectly on your gspot, making your body twitch. “im close seungmin.” he smirks down at you and kisses your lips roughly, his thrusts becoming sloppier, indicating he was close too.

“can i cum please?” you groan against him and bite his bottom lip, “yes baby girl, cum on me.” after two more strokes, you feel his warm cum shoot deep inside, and you whine, tightening around his dick, letting go as well.

he pulls out with a heavy breath and you giggle at the mess his cum made on his sheets. “worth it.” seungmin chuckles, even though he was a neat freak, he lays beside you and wraps an arm around you, leaving the mess.

“please tell me we’re going to do that more often?” you ask in a needy voice, kissing the side of his face gently. “oh yeah, you’re my fuck toy, and i said MY fuck toy, don’t even think about any of the other guys.”

you nod and giggle, “yes sir.”

[sentientgolfball]

How about “I’m bad at texting first, so I always end up hoping you will.” with Swiss and Dew!

ok this was actually so cute ough this is like EARLY prequelle so Swiss is referred to as Multi :3

Send a prompt and a pair!

“He hates me,” Dew groans, bursting into Mountain’s room. 

“Hello to you too Dewdrop,” Mountain laughs, turning the page of his book. 

“You’re laughing? The new summon hates me and you’re laughing?” He flops onto his bed with a dramatic sigh. 

“Dewbug. My love. Who hates you?” 

“Multi!”

“Multi? What do you mean he hates you? I can literally see the hearts in his eyes when he stares at you.” 

Dew groans again. He reaches into his pocket, silently tossing it at Mountain while he keeps his face firmly planted into the mattress. Mountain rolls his eyes, picking up the phone and unlocking it with practiced ease. It immediately opens to a text thread with Multi. He scrolls through, skimming over the messages to find what Dew is talking about. All he finds are Dew answering questions about life Topside, Dew telling him where he is, a few sexts which Mountain makes a mental note of, and a question about Mountain’s favorite flower which he pretends not to see. 

“I’m confused,” he tosses the phone back at Dew, “what’s the problem here?” 

“He doesn’t wanna talk to me.” He rolls over so he’s laying on his back. 

“Did you go see Chain? I told you to stop smoking with him, you know he gets his stuff from Pebble.” 

“I’m not high you bastard.” 

“Then I have no idea what’s wrong with you.” 

“I already told you!” 

“Okay,” he sighs, “walk me through what’s going on in that little head of yours.” 

“Fine. But don’t laugh at me.” 

“I would never.”

“Aether said the same thing and now I’m here so…” 

“Dew.” 

“…yeah okay. So you looked at all the messages?” 

Mountain nods, humming in response. 

“Right yeah so did you notice anything?” 

“Besides you begging to suck his dick? No nothing.” 

“Mount!”

“Sorry.” 

Dew sighs, “He never texts me first.” 

Mountain has to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing. He clears his throat, “Come again?” 

“Seriously you too?” 

“No, I'm sorry. Continue.” He smiles. 

Dew glares, “am I being too forward? I don’t exactly know what element he was raised in so I can’t do this the normal way.” 

“Do what?” Mountain tilts his head. 

“I don’t know! Show him that he's cool…I guess?” 

“So it wasn’t just Aether. You’re just bad at this in general huh.” 

“Fuck is that supposed to mean?” 

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.” 

“I’ve been here longer than you!” 

Dew grumbles, standing off the bed and stomping to the door, “Thank you for nothing dirt boy.” 

He slams the door when he leaves. Mountain shakes his head with a smile before grabbing his own phone from his nightstand. He opens his thread with Aether. 

So I hear your mate has a crush on the new guy? 

Dew decides to spend the rest of the day in the practice room. They’re still a ways away from tour so he shouldn’t be bothered. All the new summons are still in their learning phase so if anyone does come in they’ll more than likely head to one of the smaller, private rooms on the side. He figures trying to learn one of the stupid solos the stupid Cardinal wrote for him will take his mind off of his weird feelings. If not, he’ll go to Mist and have her smack some sense into him. He’d rather not have to go that far though. 

He loses track of time as he plays, fingers flying over the fretboard as he works on Faith. He may not be a fire ghoul yet, but his deadline is quickly approaching. He might as well know at least a little before he changes. He pushes himself until his body hurts, fingers sore from the repetition and shoulders aching from the weight of the fantomen. He plays as far into the song as he can one last time before calling it quits, putting the guitar back in its rack and sitting on the amp. He stretches his hand, wincing at how stiff it feels. 

“You alright?” 

Dew yelps at the voice that rumbles out so close to his ear. He nearly falls off the amp, but two large hands grab him. 

“Sorry,” Multi laughs, “didn’t mean to scare ya.” 

“When did you get in here?” 

“A while ago,” he shrugs, “you sounded really good.” 

Dew blinks a few times. He hadn’t noticed anyone around him. Hadn’t even seen the door open. 

“How did you?” 

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Multi laughs. 

Dew pockets that for later, bound and determined to figure out what the fuck he could possibly mean. Instead he focuses on what’s in front of him. Multi. His amber and incense scent is so strong when he’s so close. It makes Dew’s stomach knot, tail flicking behind him. 

“Was there,” Dew pauses to clear his throat, “was there something you needed?” 

“Oh! Yeah uh I was looking for you and Mountain said you’d probably be here. Hadn’t heard from you all day and I was worried.” 

Dew furrows his brow, “You could’ve texted me.” 

Multi looks away, uncharacteristically sheepish, “I uh…I don’t know how.” 

Dew blinks slowly, “huh?” 

“I don’t know how. To text.” 

“Bullshit we do it all the time!” 

“Yeah! That’s because I click on the thing whenever I see your name! I don’t know how to do it any other way! So I always wait for you.” 

Dew stares at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. 

“What? What’s so funny?” Multi furrows his brow. 

“Nothing nothing,” Dew shakes his head, “just…here give me your phone.” 

He still looks confused, but he hands it over to Dew. 

“Damn default lockscreen. Let’s change that.” He opens the camera app and hooks and arm around Multi’s neck, bringing him into frame. 

“Smile,” Dew says, looking at their image in the camera. 

Multi shrugs, bewilderment momentarily dropping off of his face as he flashes his fangs. Dew takes the picture, humming approval as he sets it as his lockscreen. 

“That’s not gonna steal my soul is it?” 

“No it won’t steal your soul. It’s just for fun, here look.” Dew holds it up so he can see their picture. 

Multi smiles at the sight of them together, a moment captured in time. 

“Now whenever you open your phone you’ll get to see this lovely face.” 

“Now,” Dew continues, “this is how you can text me.” 

He makes sure Multi is watching before he taps on the icon. Their thread is already pulled up when he opens it. 

“Oh,” he says flatly, a hint of embarrassment tinging his word. 

“Yeah oh. Don’t worry about it, it took Mountain ages to even learn how to unlock his phone.” 

“Really?” He laughs. 

“Yes really. I’m surprised he even knows how to use it. Don’t tell him I said that.” 

The two spend a bit more time in the practice, squished close together while Dew shows him all the things his phone can do. They take a lot more pictures, download a few apps, and change everyone’s contact names. They had back to the den hand in hand when they’re done. Dew can feel Multi’s hand warm, fire soothing the ache in his fingers from earlier. He doesn’t acknowledge it, instead, he twines their tails together, keeping him close while they walk. 

[allisluv]

ok so i’ve like been dead forever and ever but like hear me out:

eddie roundtree x dunne!reader!!! like omg it would be so cute and like it’s everything to me.

imagine, eddie can’t help but be smitten with the youngest dunne, absolutely DOWN BAD, and he just cannot care what billy or graham would think about it. he’s just too whipped for them to even care. he would do all kinds of stupid stuff like sneaking out to see them in the middle of the night, climbing in their window to see them and play cringy guitar songs for them.

idk it’s something that is on my mind 24/7

-🦇

the thrill of the chase.

pairing: eddie roundtree x fem!dunne!reader

content warnings: kissing, not edited, suggestive, really bad flirting/teasing, eddie's a dork but we love him for that!!

wc: 0.9k

a/n: ugh now i wanna make this a series

It’s late in the evening when the neighborhood finally slows to a stand-still and everyone retreats away from the Dunne household and back to their own homes. Everyone had been desperate to get a glimpse of the infamous Daisy Jones and The Six, and while you can’t deny that it was lovely to be back home, seeing your family and old friends, its nice to finally have the privacy that none of you have been entitled to since becoming famous.

Its eerily quiet in your childhood home. Your mom had taken full advantage of the festivities early on in the day and has now fallen asleep on the sofa with a glass of red wine still clutched in her left hand. You quietly set it down on the coffee table before throwing a blanket over her and trailing up the staircase.

Graham is staying at the hotel across the road with Karen, and Billy and Camila have not long put Julia down for the night. They’ve disappeared into their own bedroom and you don’t want to think about what your brother and his wife are doing behind that closed door.

You creep across the landing in your bare feet before slipping into your bedroom and slotting the lock into place. As your eyes search the room, you notice that little has changed since you, Camila and the boys up and left for California a few years ago. It makes your heart ache a little, honestly.

So much has happened in such a short period of time, and while you would not change it for the world, you have to admit it can be a little overwhelming and scary at times, which is why it feels weird to be back where this “silly little dream” all started.

Shaking your head, you cross the room and lift your suitcase onto your bed. There’s no point in unpacking when you’ll be leaving in a week, anyway, so you just pull out the neccessary toilitries and pyjamas before moving to pull the curtains across.

As you do so, you can’t help but notice a familiar mop of brown hair climbing the drainpipe, and your heart does a flip in your chest. Cracking open the window just enough to stick your head out, you hiss, “What the hell are you playing at, Ed?”

Eddie offers you a lopsided grin, and with practiced ease, hauls onto your windowsill, still holding the drainpipe for stability. “You gonna let me in or keep me out here all night, sweetheart?”

With a roll of your eyes, you carefully push the window open, before taking his hand and helping him inside. You give his arm a hard tug and he tumbles onto the carpet with a soft thud.

“Ouch,” Eddie mumbles, clutching his shoulder. “Help!” He whisper-hisses. “I’ve been fatally wounded in battle.”

You roll your eyes once more. “You’re such a dork.” You hesitate before asking anyway. “You’re not really hurt, right?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

“Will you kiss it better if I say yes?” He grins cheekily and narrowly avoids the pillow that you fire at his head. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth “Now, is that really any way to treat your knight in shining armour?”

You bite back a laugh. “You’re hardly a knight in shining armour; you’re dressed in denim, babe.”

Eddie pushes himself to his feet with an exaggerated sigh. He closes the distance between the two of you, and his hands find the plush of your hips. “I thought you loved me in denim,” he sticks his bottom lip out in a pout.

“I love you alive. And if my brother finds out you’re in here, he’ll—”

“He’ll skin me alive, yeah, I know, sweetheart,” Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead. “I still dont see why we cant just tell him. I mean, we’ve been sneaking around since we were seventeen. If the idiot hasn’t caught on now, I doubt he ever will.”

You shake your head fondly. “Don’t call him an idiot. He’s my brother.”

“Are you saying he’s not an idiot?” Eddie arches a brow.

“…He’s my brother.”

Eddie’s face splits into a grin and he presses a quick kiss to your lips.

You melt into his embrace as his tongue slips into your mouth. He tastes of whiskey and cigarettes and he smells like home. You sigh into the kiss, and he hums approvingly, guiding you backwards until your thighs hit the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing here anyway?” You ask as you lower yourself down into a sitting position. He follows suit, and then you’re crawling into his lap, straddling his waist.

His hands find purchase on your hips again, and he rubs soothing circles into the skin there as he peppers your face in kisses. “Missed you.”

“We saw each other an hour ago,” You giggle, raking your fingers through his hair.

“An hour too long if you were to ask me,” He kisses the tip of your nose before slotting his mouth over yours again.

Minutes pass in a blur of gentle caresses and muffled giggles, before you finally pull away to catch your breath. Your hands are braced on his shoulders as you finally ask, “Can you stay?”

“What about your brother?” Eddie gently teases, poking you in the stomach.

“My door’s locked,” You shrug. “We’ll just have to make sure you go back out the window in the morning, won’t we?” You nibble on your bottom lip anxiously. “You don’t mind, do you? I mean, I don’t want you thinking I’m hiding you because I’m ashamed of you or anything.”

Eddie smiles reassuringly. “I don’t think that for a second, sweetheart.” He tugs you closer and drops his voice to a conspirative whisper. “Besides, you know I’ve always found it kinda hot when we sneak around. Something about the thrill of the chase…”

[that-ari-blogger]

Conversation (More Than Anything, Reprise)

One of my favourite tools as a writer is incongruence. i.e. two elements of something that contradict each other. The “x, but…”.

For example, the trope of the character with zero self-preservation instinct who keeps surviving because none of their opponents know how to counter someone with zero self-preservation instinct. On the one hand, this person is the most likely to be in danger at any given time, but that is paradoxically what keeps them alive.

Reprises in musical theatre are weirdly similar to this. They are a recurring motif to bring back elements from before. They tell you that this is still the same story, that these are still the same themes you are working with. But they also show you just how much has changed.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (Hazbin Hotel)

When I covered the first rendition of this song, I framed it as a conversation that displayed changing perspectives. I want to keep that idea going here.

Most obviously, the song is literally now a conversation between Charlie and Vaggie. But it’s also in conversation with itself.

The two are presenting differing perspectives on the same idea. That being, the importance of love.

But, let’s rewind a bit.

This is a reprise of a song, and therefore it keeps the setup done there as an effective shortcut. That’s why reprised are generally so short, you have already felt emotions because of this song, the reprise just needs to remind you of that and reframe it slightly.

So, we have two people reconciling after a feud, and doing that through an affirmation that their love transcends the past.

We also have the analogy of love as inspiration. The father inspires the daughter, the partner inspires the partner.

However, it is also framed significantly differently.

When Lucifer sang, he was pessimistic and trying to persuade Charlie to stay away and stay safe. Her dreams were doomed to failure because all dreams were doomed to failure. Charlie had to change his mind.

Now Vaggie sings, and she has nothing but hope. Charlie is the one doubting her ideals and Vaggie points out that, in a very real way, Charlie has already been proven right.

The angel has been redeemed.

“And in the end, if it's only me you saved,”

Charlie has done enough; all of this is a bonus. She has already inspired at least one person; how many more are out there.

Fittingly, the instruments have been swapped.

Pianos and guitars have a wealth of symbolism attributed to them gained from their fairly ubiquitous nature in music. Generally speaking, however, they are grandeur and approachability, respectively.

Mostly, this is their scale.

If you were to see a pianist on a stage with a piano, the main thing you notice is the instrument. They are physically imposing and can fill almost any space with their density of sound. When a pianist plays, they become a vessel for the music that swells and rises and takes you by the scruff of the neck.

If you give a guitarist a microphone, maybe they can achieve a similar sense of grandeur, and electric guitars exist for a reason. But even they are small in comparison to their wielder.

Where a pianist is music incarnate, the sound of a guitar is the will of its creator made manifest. You take a guitar to a protest, you take one camping, you can’t really do that with a piano.

Put simply, guitars bring people together, pianos inspire people to be more.

Which is why I genuinely think it would be a phenomenal scene if, when they finally relent and make Mad Max 66, there is a moment where some messed up little goober stands on the back of a Ute, cracks six mismatched sets of knuckles, and proceeds to tear into an equally messed up piano. That would be awesome.

The point I was making is that there is a dichotomy between the sounds of these two instruments.

In the first rendition of More Than Anything, the backing consists mainly of a guitar playing a fairly standard rising and falling melody. Then, when the title is sung, we get a descending run played on a piano.

This aligns the two segments of the song with the two instruments and their implications. The verse and backstory are centred around connection, and the title is all about that greater philosophy of hope and inspiration. Which fits with the song. Charlie is trying to use that established love to ask for faith in her.

Later on, when Vaggie gives her take on the number, the same backing tune is now played on a piano. Vaggie is trying to raise Charlie’s hopes and get her to have faith in herself. Why? Because when the chorus rolls around, and the run comes around, this time played on a guitar.

Where previously the connection inspired the ideals, here the ideals have inspired the connection. Vaggie loves Charlie because of that hope, and she doesn’t need to try to keep achieving it to satisfy anyone because she has already succeeded, and love isn’t transactional. Vaggie loves her more than anything, and Charlie returns that affection.

Final Thoughts

This is a short post for two reasons.

One, it’s a reprise. It is short and I don’t have much more to say beyond what I have already pointed out in my other post on this song. I already have a post that discusses musical flourishes and theme.

The other reason is a critique, and it’s not actually of this song, although I think it is the reason this song falls flat for me.

Hazbin Hotel is too short. Vaggie and Charlie’s breakup lasts for barely an episode, and that guts this song because the song is so clearly banking on being payoff for something that didn’t have time to get set up.

Which is a shame, because the song isn’t bad. It’s perfectly serviceable and genuinely quite moving, but it could have been one of the best in the musical without a single change, if it had had one more episode before it.

Once again, however, this is not a fault that falls to the writers and directors. This is a problem with management only allowing for eight episodes in a story that needed more.

There are criticisms of this show that can be levied at the creators. I dislike some of the character designs, for example, and I think a lot of the edititing of individual scenes and shots is so snappy it borders on claustrophobic. But the pacing is an issue with a clear cause and effect, and it doesn’t just affect Hazbin Hotel, nor is it confined to Amazon.

We have seen this play havoc with modern television. People aren’t having time to sit down and enjoy a show. Star Wars: Skeleton Crew is the only series I can think of that has made the most of this, and that’s because the format suited the story. As a result, people are less inclined to start watching something they are afraid might get cancelled early or won’t have time to get attached to. Art needs to be treated as individual pieces, not homogenized to fit a format.

So, to any executives and higher-ups who may be reading this, two things:

One, why are you on Tumblr? This site is an asylum run by its inmates and respectfully, you aren’t welcome.

Two, your job is to make money, and in case you weren't aware, art is the most profitable for you when you stop treating it like a product.

You are sabotaging your own success by kneecapping your projects because it is apparently more cost effective in the short term. This is a false promise, a mirage conjured up by your cursed treasure and empty conquest. You are not just callous; you are bad at your jobs.

Next week, I will be discussing the finale of this show and those damn chords. Stick around if that interests you.

Previous - Next

[kai-anderson-whore]

He's a cult leader part 9 (kai Anderson x fem reader series)

Warnings: smutt, y/n and kai arguing, kai is a Warning in itself but its okay cause kai is a sexy little swine, y/n being a bad bitch to kai's volunteers

Part 8 here

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•. .•°˚˚°

You were cleaning the house waiting on kai returning home from the hospital with winter, scrubbing the house from top to bottom with the help from beverly and ivy kai still waiting on his results for the next senator.

"Thank you for helping me I wouldn't be able to get all this done on time on my own" you chuckled scrubbing the kitchen tiles, "no problem y/n" ivy smiled mopping the floor, you wanted the place spotless for kai especially the living room where he would need to rest till his leg heals better.

The music playing from the TV to keep you busy as you cleaned 'ball and chain' by janis joplin playing you mumbled along to the lyrics, "winter says she's just waiting on them discharging kai" Harrison informed you hadn't really spoken to him since the whole Meadow situation happened, The only time you spoken to him since that was her funeral where he went off his head at you.

A few hours later winter came back assisting kai into the house, "kai it's good to see you back" Gary smiled greeting his divine ruler, "it's good to be back gary" he smiled back easing himself on the sofa, you grabbed a cushion resting it on the table so he can keep his leg up to heal.

"Thank you" he smiled at you making you smile back, "no problem me, ivy and beverly spent the full day cleaning making sure everything was nice for you coming home" you said kai nodded in appreciation.

You spent the rest of the night attending to kai's needs with the help from winter you were exhausted now finally sitting on the sofa with kai watching a movie, "I'll have to go and teach a kid tomorrow but winter will be here to help" you smiled, "ok what time will you be back?" Kai asked his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him, "I'll be back around 6pm just in time for your results" you replied eyes fixed on the tv infront of you.

The next evening you entered the house to see the news in the living room kai waiting on his results you placed your bag on the coffee table taking a seat between kai and winter, kai on the phone waiting to see if he won or not.

You felt nervous but you already knew kai won regardless with all the hard work you all had put in to put the fear of God into Michigan and it was working well now, kai pulled the phone away from his ear turning to you and winter with a smile on his face.

"WE WON" he beamed bringing to both in for a hug you were proud of him he won he's now councilman "I knew you could do it kai" you smiled as he pulled away from you and winter to place a kiss on your lips, you knew that this was only the beginning of the end things would just go downhill from here.

To say you were fearful was an understatement but you would stand by kai's side after all you do love him with everything in you despite everything with Meadow the craziness of his mind you would always stick by him and winter too kai was truly grateful for that.

Kai pulled away from your kiss to see a notification of a retweet from Aaron trump which made him even more excited like a little boy in a toy store, you looked at winter with a soft smile in which she returned but you could see in her eyes that she was dreading what was to come next from kai.

The camera men for the news left about 10 minutes later leaving the three of you alone, you went down into the basement to play your guitar sitting on the floor, your back pressing against the back of the sofa as you started playing the tune you were working on weeks prior.

"Jim takes me down he's a fire eater"

"Before the dawn of the valley shine"

"Jim takes me down to the river all the way past the mines"

You didn't realise that kai was at the bottom of the basement stairs listening to you play the guitar and sing it always mesmerised him the way your emotions pour out when you sing.

"Girls in nightgowns hold their hands forever"

"Girls with pink lips cultivate the sound"

"They watch we kiss on a bed of roses as he lays me down"

"He's a fire eater, he's a cult leader, he's a big believer"

"In anything from the 70s said that LSD could be good for me"

"Lay down, lay down"

Kai listened to every lyric in the song taking in the references to Jim Jones and the manson family he knew the song was about him and the cult he was impressed to say the least.

"Jim takes me down to the village diner"

"Makes them believe that there's nothing wrong"

"Parades me round like his fucking daughter"

"All the way bow down"

You still hadn't noticed kai's presents in the basement yet your back still behide the sofa you didn't really want him to hear the song it was something you didn't know if he'd like or be mad at but it was kai he's unpredictable with his moods.

"He's a fire eater, he's a cult leader, he's a big believer in anything from the 70s"

"Said that LSD could be good for me"

"Lay down Lay down"

"Oh all the ways that your story was a let down"

"Oh all the ways that your glory was a let down"

Kai furrowed his brows wondering why you could have added that part he wasn't a let down he thought, he kept his word so far accomplished everything he said he would at this point.

"He's a fire eater, he's a cult leader"

"He's a big believer in anything from the 70s"

"Said that LSD could be good for me"

"Lay down, lay down"

You ended your song you didn't know why you wrote music it wasn't like you were trying to become a singer it was a hobby you guessed something you loved doing, you were pulled out of your thoughts by kai clearing his throat gaining your attention, you pulled yourself up so your head peaked up from behind the couch.

"Nice song" he smiled you were slightly fearful incase it got a bad impression on him since it was about the cult and notorious cult leaders, how you relate to the situation you never thought you could be in right now.

"Thanks" you replied placing the guitar down getting off the floor making your way to kai who was standing by the coffee table holding onto a walking stick, "is it about the cult?" Kai asked his free hand on your hip as your arms wrapped around his neck.

"It's cults in general like Jim Jones hence why I said Jim takes me down and I reference the Mason family with girls in nightgowns holding hands forever, and also us in general" you shrugged looking into kais eyes for some sort of assurance that he wasn't pissed at you but they were unreadable like always.

"Did you- erm did you like it?" You hesitantly asked looking at your feet unsure of what he would say, "you kidding I loved it y/n your really talented I've always said that about you haven't i" he smiled tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, "that's because I'm your girlfriend kai" you chuckled lightly kai shook his head disagreeing, "no it's not because your my girlfriend y/n I'm being honest you have full potential of being something" kai stated you couldn't help but blush at his words.

"Thanks kai that means a lot now come on let's go to bed I've got another kid to teach Tomorrow early" you said helping kai upstairs and into your shared bedroom, slipping into a pair of bottoms and a vest top before climbing into bed beside kai.

"Goodnight y/n"

"Goodnight kai"

You woke up early this morning rubbing your eyes adjusting to the bright sun seeping through the curtains, you turned your head to see kai peacefully asleep his mouth agape light snores leaving his lips, his hair tousled his bare chest on display.

Your eyes scanned his features how his eyebrows furrow when he's in deep sleep, how peaceful and vulnerable he looked something he never looked like when he's conscious, with a soft sigh you pulled yourself out of bed seeing it was 7:00am you had a lesson at 9:30am teaching a girl bass.

You quietly grabbed clean clothes making sure not to awake kai and went to the bathroom for a quick shower, turning the hot water on feeling the temperature before stripping and going in.

You felt your body relax as the hot water cascaded down your body, taking your shampoo bottle squeezing some of the product into your palm lathering it in your hair, humming a random song that came to mind ironically your own

"Soft kiss my baby wanted it"

"I can sense it from a mile away"

"He wants a bit of this sweet melancholy and He can get it any time of day"

You kept singing to yourself whilst you dried yourself off wrapping your hair in a towel drying your body off doing your skincare before changing into your clothes for the day, black leggings and an old nirvana hoodie you decided you didn't want to put makeup on today so you just blow dried your hair tieing it up into a messy bun.

"Morning" kai mumbled rubbing the sleep out if his eyes as you entered the bedroom drying your hair with the towel, "where you going?" Kai asked finally gaining the energy to pull himself out of bed with the help of his cane, "I've got to teach a girl bass lessons I'm quite excited it's been ages since I teached bass to anyone" you giggled throwing the towel in the dirty laundry basket at the corner of the bedroom.

"If you want you can come with me" you offered it had been a while since kai tagged along with you to a lesson you missed it, "I can't I've got council stuff to do" he shrugged you felt disappointed he couldn't come with you it also had been a while since you two had quality time together as a couple and not as a cult.

"Oh okay I better get my hair dried and get going" your voice almost at a whisper, you felt back to square one with kai him being the same old kai like when he was fucking Meadow it gave you anxiety but you had to trust him for the mean time.

You were driving to your students house the radio on, 'feels like we only go backwards' by tame impala playing, you couldn't help but get into your head again it really did feel like you and kai only went backwards but what could you do you were in too deep despite it only being a few months since you got back together but the few years you both had in college tops it kai was the love of your life.

You wondered what changed him what brought him into the darkness he was stuck in, what went wrong to make him snap sure he witnessed his mother commit a murder suicide that would be enough but deep down you knew there was more but what? that's what you didn't know.

You shook yourself out of the tortuous thoughts trying to focus yourself on your lesson, you neared your students house mille her name is you met her mother when she was over at another one of your students house and that's when you learnt her daughter was dying to learn the bass so now here you were.

You parked your car outside the residence pulling the door handle exiting your vehicle, locking your car. You made your way up the sidewalk and up the steps your clenched knuckles knocking on the hard wooden door.

The door opened revealing Martha millie's mother with a bright room lighting smile, "y/n hello come in come in" she greeted letting you into her home, "millie is in the living room if you want to head over there it's just down the hall" she smiled taking your jacket hanging it on the pegs with the other coats and jackets.

"Thank you Martha" you smiled back making your way to the living room your bass in hand, you saw millie sitting on the sofa holding her bass waiting on you with a small nervous smile, "hi millie I'm y/n you ready to learn the bass" you asked you always felt nervous when you had a new student but you wanted the lessons to be a breeze for both you and them.

"Yeah" she nodded you sat on the single chair across from her taking your bass out the case, "your really pretty" she compliment making you smile at the girls kind words, "aww thank you millie how sweet of you" you thanked her getting on with your lesson.

After about two and a half hours of teached you Decided to wrap the lesson up for the day millies mom paying you the $250 now walking along kais driveway your hand on the doorhandle it's locked 'weird?" You thought kai never locks the door.

Just then someone opened the door someone you didn't recognise "may I help you?" They asked their eyes scanning you, "who the fuck are you" you asked a growl on your face "you know what I don't care let me in" you shook your head trying to get past this man in kai's house he wouldn't move blocking you from entering.

"this is a joke KAI" you huffed calling for kai you heard kais voice from behind the man, "it's alright she lives here" the guy let you past you mumbled something under you breath now in a pissed off mood with the house and all these guys in here, "what the fuck is this kai?" You asked your eyes scanned the perimeter of the room in such confusion.

"They're volunteers they heard our message and they want to help out" kai stated you just looked at him in utter disbelief, "they come all over the country for us and our purpose" kai said you shook your head questions running around your mind, "kai where the fuck are they going to sleep" you asked.

"In the basement" he shrugged making his way down to the basement, you followed behind you still couldn't wrap your head around it, "kai this is crazy we can't have all these people here to live there's no room kai" you sighed seeing the guys around a table, "y/n I'll need you to leave this is councilman stuff" kai said you let out a huff at his statement, "kai I don't care about the councilman things right now my concern is WHY ARE THOSE GUYS STAYING IN OUR HOME" you yelled.

"THIS IS MY HOUSE Y/N MINE AND IF YOU DONT LIKE IT THEN YOU KNOW WHERE THE DOOR IS" kai yelled back slamming his fist on the wooden table trying to scare you but it never did you were used to his behaviour well by now.

"You know what kai do what you want I give up with you I honestly do I'll be upstairs don't expect me to sleep in your room tonight" you said leaving the basement just as you reached the upstairs stairs you heard a whistle behide you you turned your head to see one if the volunteers gawking at you.

"What you looking at" you snapped not in the mood for anyone's nonsense right now, "some fine piece of ass is what I'm looking at" he smirked you scoffed walking up to the guy.

"If you look at me like that once more I swear I'll cut your eyes out and if kai finds out you'd wish you were never born" you smiled walking away up the stairs leaving the guy pissed off and confused.

You grabbed some clean clothes making your way to the shower turning on the shower stripping out your clothes whilst the water got hot, once you stepped into the shower you let out a soft sigh as the hot water cascaded down on you, you didn't bother with music like you always do you just wanted to be left in your thoughts.

You were too much in your own thoughts you gasped in shock when you felt rough hands on your hips turning around to see who's hands were on you, kai stood behind you smirking at you expressions, "what the fuck kai don't do that I nearly had a fucking heart attack" you sighed a hand on your chest feeling your heart beat fast.

"You should have seen your face it was priceless" kai grinned his head dipping down between your neck and shoulder placing rough kisses on your skin, "kai no I'm pissed at you once again" you scolded trying to get away from him not that you didn't want to but you didn't want to give in to him so easily like always.

"Oh is that so?" He teased continuing his assault on your neck you let out a soft sigh enjoying the feeling, "because you sound like it" he added making you snap out of your state and stand your ground, "no I'm not doing it kai not today when there's those creeps down there" you said now facing kai who looked confused at your statement.

"What do you mean creeps did one of them say something to you?" He asked you could see the rage in his eyes "yeah I don't know their name but as I was coming up the stairs they whistled at me and said I was a fine piece of ass I mean I agree but he's not my type" you shrugged kai was more angered hearing what you told him he wanted everyone to know you were his amd no one else's.

"Well we're going to let them know your off limits then" he informed spinning you around so your cheek was againt the cold tiles and you ass againt kai's erection, you gasped at the action then moaned loudly when kai slammed his cock in you without warning his hand griping on your hips.

It drove you crazy the way he recklessly pounded into you like you were nothing using you for his own pleasure, "fuck" kai groaned his palm colliding with you ass leaving red marks over the now sensitive skin followed with your loud pornographic sounds that would definitely letting everyone know how good kai was making you feel.

Kai pulled out of you leaving you a hot mess wanting more his hands spinning you around by the waist till you faces him, his hands how on your thighs signalling you to jump, so you did you legs wrapped around his waist your back against the cold wet wall, kai easily slipped back into you continuing his harsh fast thrusts definitely bound to leave bruises on your body.

"Right there kai don't stop fuck" you practically screamed your fingernails digging into his skin clawing on the pale flesh driving kai more crazy, "your such a slut for me aren't you who do you belong to?" He asked his head dipping down to your chest sucking on the skin.

"Y-you kai fuck only you" you sighed feeling like you were about to come undone around kai, "louder" kai said thrusting harder into you whilst you struggled to say anything never mind shout it.

"YOU KAI I'M ALL YOURS" you managed to let out your body jolting with his thrusts "fuck I'm going to cum" you alerted desperate for your own release, kai started to rub circles on your clit bringing you closer to the edge, "come for me" he instructed You didn't need to be told twice you let go over kai's cock your back arching, toes curling the lot.

"Fuck" kai moaned spilling his load into you his head slung back milking every drop into you riding out your highs till you both eventually calmed down.

Kai pulled out of you placing you on the ground carefully not to drop you, your breathing was shallow as you tried to collect yourself, "you got what you wanted kai now if you don't mind I want to get clean" you said kai shook his head chuckling at you.

"So not even two seconds ago you came over me now you want me to go away well y/n as I said before this is my house and I ain't going nowhere plus you said it yourself your mine" kai smirked trying to get a reaction out of you once again, "kai I said it in the heat of the moment okay you would say anything during sex now it meant nothing okay" you said rolling your eyes.

"I don't think it does" you washed you body not saying another word to kai who was doing the same you felt his eyes burning into you "take a picture it will last longer" you hissed ringing the excess water from your hair then grabbing a towel, "what is wrong with you y/n" kai snapped having enough of your attitude.

"This that's what wrong with me kai I don't know if I'm coming or going with you and the unreadable emotions you give I'm constantly walking on fucking eggshells around you and let me tell you this boy I have had enough only reason I'm staying here is because I love you even this version of you but I always hope maybe a glimps of the old kai the kai I loved will come back even for a second" you yelled the tears now falling from your eyes.

Kai just looked at you in shock he knew that you were always on eggshells around him so was everyone but the reason why you stick around he really never knew, he knew deep down you deserve better than him but he was so in love with you he couldn't bear it.

You looked into kai's eye's you couldn't believe what you saw the old kai his eyes weren't masked with emotionless they were filled with all types of sad emotions like a broken little boy, "y/n" he whispered his hand coming to your face "you've finally broken" you felt like all the air was swept from your lungs you saw your kai for that split second till he had to keep his mean, leader demeanour.

"No I haven't kai I've been broken for a long time I've just had enough" you said leaving the bathroom and into winters room, 'what on earth happened back there' you thought you couldn't wrap your head around it like usual, trying to figure kai out was like a broken record but trying to get through to him was like talking to a brick wall you get absolutely nowhere

[xticklemeemox]

The Love You Want: III, Part Eight

so uh yeah… smut warning. first time ever writing smut im so sorry and also i feel like the second smut scene is better than the first but Moonshard gave me an idea and i ran with it. sorry if its unrealistic too, im a single, virgin cisgender woman sorryyyyy

word count: 15.5k

ao3

Masterlist

Previous Part

Next Part

Things do not seem to change much after that night. Vessel feels as though he is walking on eggshells around the other vessels, trying to be so careful about asking for too much affection even if he craves it like oxygen. III has been relentless in his affections, though. Asking at all hours of the day for kisses that steal Vessel's breath and leave him aching for more. Vessel finds II and III in the kitchen making breakfast in the mornings as III hangs off II's back, arms wrapped around his waist and aches for that same closeness. His empty chest aches when III coaxes II into a short dance that II tries to shy away from, stumbling awkwardly as III hums along to the radio he brought down from their room. III's boisterous laughter and encouragement to have some fun with them, even as II complains about the food beginning to burn is endearing and Vessel feels like an outsider, lingering at the kitchen door trying his hardest not to be noticed.

He wonders what would have happened if he'd had the courage to join them.

II and III have picked up a brand new routine of giving each other, and then Vessel, in no particular order, kisses when they wake in the morning. None of them have seemed to sleep in their own rooms since they officially started dating, which wasn't too far off from the way things were before. He aches for the way those two cuddle close at night or just lazing about, II's head on III's chest or the other way around, unafraid to be that vulnerable with someone else.

Vessel is happy when II and III ask to kiss him. So, so happy. He never refuses, always eagerly agrees. He wants to soak in every ounce of affection they'll give him like a sponge. Vessel knows he will never tire of it, needs to take in all of it he can while they still wish to give it.

Just a few days after Vessel got revenge for III, he sits on his piano bench, writing down chord changes as he works on a song with his guitar. Already, he has a few ideas for lyrics inspired by a certain bassist, though Vessel isn't sure the song will ever see the light of day. It's no where near completed, merely a base melody and a couple lyric lines he needs to work off of. A knock on the doorframe startles him from his concentration, and lo' and behold, one of the objects of his desire stands at the door with a smile.

"Hey, Sugar, y'wanna head out to see my garden? I started it the day you were... gone. I was thinking we could go on a walk after, see if Two wants to join?"

There's a nervous flush to III's cheeks that Vessel doesn't usually see. Vessel nods, already beginning to put his guitar away. III lights up, smile growing wider as he practically vibrates in place, trying to keep still to not make Vessel too nervous. III meets Vessel halfway to the door, eagerly offering up their hand that Vessel takes with a smile, swinging their hands between them gently as III practically pulls Vessel towards the living room.

II lays on the couch playing on his phone, tired eyes watching the screen with a furrow between his brow as he scrolls through something with utmost concentration. "Doll, did you wanna go on a walk with Vessel and I after I get done showing him the garden?"

"Are you asking me out on your date with Ves?" II inquires curiously, turning away from his screen, and Vessel startles a little, faltering behind III.

"Yes! I don't really want to go outside of Sleep's realm yet so this is all I've come up with." III grins, nodding along with II's words.

Vessel splutters, eyes a little wide, not realizing that this is what III was aiming for. They were asking him on a date? Vessel didn't realize, didn't even think-

Feeling Vessel's surprise over the bond, III turns his sheepish smile on to Vessel, as they nervously run a hand through their hair. "I thought you realized. My bad, Sugar. I would like to take you out on a date, if that's alright?"

Vessel is nodding before he can think better of it, and III grins, bringing Vessel's hand up to plant a kiss over his knuckles. "Still not talking much, sweetheart?" II asks, watching the both of them fondly.

"Voice..." Vessel's voice peters out as he continues, clearing his throat, "Does not want to work sometimes, still. I apologize."

"Don't apologize, pretty. Its not your fault. You're doing so well." III refutes, pressing another kiss to Vessel's knuckles.

III enjoys the way Vessel's face goes pink at the term, at the praise. He hates how easy it is, just a little bit of affection goes so far with him, and yet he loves it at the same time.

Who made him like this?

What tragedy led Vessel to becoming entangled with Sleep in the first place?

And is there a way Sleep can give III the chance to snap their necks after kicking their teeth in?

"I might join you later. I've been trying to figure out where we are in the country now, and if there are any small places we can play at." II says, shaking his phone a little for emphasis.

"Do you think we're ready to play a show?" III asks, curious.

Even as II says that he thinks they are, as they have at least three songs they can play, and III fits with them so naturally and is well on his way to perfecting his parts, Vessel wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"Will you be able to sing, sweetheart?"

Vessel nods slowly, even if he isn't sure himself. "Mask- helps."

"Have you heard him sing much, Three?" II asks, suddenly not quite sure.

"A little. His voice has been failing him a lot, whenever we practice so I'm not sure I've heard him clearly. We'll be keeping our masks on, right? I've never seen Vessel sing without his."

"Can't without it." Vessel says, feeling ashamed of his cowardice.

"That's alright. It's better we all wear the masks anyway. Anonymity seems to be the best choice for us, with our Sleep given features and all." II is quick to reassure, not liking the self-deprecation in Vessel's tone.

III is putting a little braid in his hair as they all talk, cursing when they realize they lost their rubber band. Vessel taps their shoulder, handing them one of the rubber bands he keeps in his pockets just for a situation like this. III smiles, thanking him with a peck on the cheek as he ties the braid off.

"Will you be playing the guitar, Ves, or will we need to find a guitarist?" III asks curiously.

"We'll need to find one." He replies hesitantly, and there is a strange lilt to his tone that does not go unnoticed by the others.

Vessel does not want to find a guitarist, but knows he cannot play the instrument on stage. It will be hard enough to get himself to sing, let alone do so and play an instrument. In his soul, he knows that the position is meant to be filled by the fourth vessel. It is not something to be given freely to anyone, no matter if they're good at the instrument or what they're looking for. Sleep has made no mention of a fourth yet, so they are left to find a stand in. Vessel has no reason to refuse the other two when he knows they need someone else until their Fourth comes to join them.

"Alright, we'll get to that later, as well as picking a name for the band. Oh, Three, before you go, I think we can take the bandage off your palm now, and I need to check your fingers." II says as III takes Vessel's hand again and starts to turn around to leave.

III agrees easily, apologizing to Vessel for making him wait. "Take... care of yourself." Vessel manages before grimacing, bringing out his phone to type on.

'You insist I take care of my wounds, I insist you take care of yours. I can wait.'

II has III sit on the couch as he places a bookmark in his book and grabs a small first aid kit from one of the many bookcases, smiling affectionately at the little labels III had done on the wooden furniture.

II unwraps the bandages with care, trying to make sure he doesn't pull scabbing away in case there is any. There is a thin, nearly invisible scar that blends in with the lines of III's hand, striking right through the red question mark where it is only slightly more noticeable. Vessel's guilt slides like oil down the bond at the sight of it, tainting the tether binding their souls with his rising self-loathing. "Do not feel guilty for this Vessel." III demands, "I do not regret what I did."

Vessel does not answer, his guilt remains, but he moves to sit close to III, taking care not to touch him. III is the one that reaches out to hold Vessel's hand without a thought, seeking the comfort and the familiar chill of Vessel's hand in theirs. II moves on to III's fingers next, taking off the bandages and redoing them after applying a bit of burn cream. The redness of the skin and the little blister at the tips did not look serious, well on their way to being healed already, but Vessel is curious as to how III received them in the first place. He doesn't dare ask.

II kisses each fingertip as he smiles, "You're done, sweetheart. Now, Ves, what about your fingers?"

Vessel's own fingers still bear the bandages around the distal phalanges like III's, from where he'd ripped and split the skin around his cuticles in his anxiety a few days prior. They'd bled too much for II's liking and insisted Vessel let him bandage them.

III is the one who did it, though. They insisted, profusely, with shaking hands and a terrified face. Vessel felt absolutely horrible the entire time, as II held a hand on his thigh for comfort just as he was doing to III. III's leg had morphed in his fright, as thin as spindly as his arm had been, as he looked at Vessel as though he was seeing something else, eyes squeezing shut. The relief that slammed through the bond when they unwrapped the first finger and found that the wounds had healed almost entirely, and there was nothing but faint scabbing left, was immense and immediate. III's hands slowly got less shaky after that, still held tightly to Vessel's long after they finished until the tremble was gone and III's smile turned genuine.

"Go on and enjoy your date, you two. I'll be here if you still want me to join you for the second half."

III leans forward and kisses II shortly, standing and pulling Vessel up with them. "Thanks, Doll, appreciate it. We'll be back soon enough. I expect you to be dressed and ready to go!" III wiggles his pointer finger at II in a premature reprimand, or perhaps a joking threat.

They stop in the foyer so III can put shoes on at the door, and then they're on their way. The sun is bright above them, and Vessel winces at the first bit of sunlight that meets his eyes, blinking to remove the multitude of white spots that swarmed his vision. His outfit is a little unusual for the warm weather, a pair of loose, black, billowing pants with a brown belt to hold it up, his mask attached, and the flowing, victorian-esque shirt III had picked out for him at the thrift store. His feet are bare, and as the roots of the large trees surrounding the manor move away from III's path so he does not trip, Vessel consequently remains safe from the same fate. III walks beside him in a knee-length skirt and a cropped tank top with frilled straps, swinging their hands together as they pull him down the little path they'd made that leads along the side of the house.

The little plot walled in with red brick is unassuming, tiny sprouts already beginning to grow from the soil.

"Did not- help like I was supposed to. Apologies." Vessel says as they come upon it as III grins proudly.

"Its alright, love. It kept me from being too worried while you were gone. The plans we made meant it was far easier, besides." III tries to assuage the guilt Vessel seems to always carry around like a second skin, even if they have to understate just how worried he and II were.

"You did well by yourself." Vessel says genuinely, voice catching a little as he forces himself.

"Thank you, Sugar. I planted some daffodils and bellflowers. I intend to offer them to Sleep and keep them on the altar. It will be a while yet before they grow, though." III explains, pulling Vessel down to crouch with him.

Vessel thinks back to the flowers III had left on his nightstand, how he had restored them to perfection. He wonders if he can do the same now, but... Will III be alright with it if Vessel were to try? Knowing he couldn't speak enough to explain properly, Vessel takes out his phone to type it out.

'Thank you for the flowers you left me. They're very pretty though I'm unsure of some of their meanings. I think I've discovered another ability and want to test it on your garden. Am I allowed?'

Vessel fiddles with the phone case, biting and pulling at the skin of his lip before he offers the phone to III to read.

"You're welcome, Sugar, and thank you for asking. Go on ahead, they aren't much to look at right now anyway. I don't mind planting something new if I have to." III waves Vessel on, sitting back on his haunches to watch what Vessel does.

Nervous now, Vessel takes in a small breath to steel himself for failure, reaching out and planting his hands palm down in the dirt. He concentrates on the sprouts just barely tickling his palms, willing them to grow. They follow his command easily, surprisingly, leaves and stems sprouting from under his hands that he has to lift to avoid squashing the flowers blooming before he and III.

"Shit, Ves, that's amazing! I'm really proud of you!"

Vessel keeps his hands near as more and more of the flowers begin to bloom, marigolds and bellflowers but also others that III didn't plant, like amaryllis as Vessel feels a bit of pride swell up within him. He looks over to III in excitement that only grows when he sees that same excitement mirrored on III's face.

"Beautiful job, Sugar!"

III is elated, picking one of the bellflowers and placing the stem in Vessel's hair, behind one ear. One side of Vessel's mouth tilts up into a smile baring a fang, turning back to their work as a couple more daffodils bloom up from ground, glowing a gentle yellow the color of their petals. They snap a quick photo before Vessel can see, leaning forward to kiss him when he turns to see what III is doing. Vessel loses his balance, concentrated expression morphing into surprise, falling over onto his ass in the dirt from where they had both been crouched before the garden plot. III follows him down, a hand on the back of Vessel's head to protect it from the fall and dirt, amusement and adoration flowing so heavily down the bond that Vessel feels consumed by it, cannot deny that III is genuine in those feelings.

III laughs in amusement, pulling away to do so. "I love you." They grin, and Vessel sends some of his down the bond with purpose, needing III to know that Vessel loves him in return.

Flowers start blooming around Vessel's arms where one has fallen to rest at his side, a line of blooming petals between the cracks in the bricks that glow gently under the sun's rays leading back up to the garden itself. White poppies for peacefulness or calm, and daisies for loyal love. III looks down at Vessel, taking him, and all the flowers beginning to grow around his head, in and feels overwhelmed by the love they have for him.

Vessel watches III intently. Watches how the sun turns his blonde hair golden as it peeks through the canopy of trees, not yet noon. His question mark freckle by his eye has disappeared into the creases his skin makes when they smile, and Vessel is enamored, completely and utterly. "You're beautiful."

III's smile turns into a grin, pretty blue eyes surrounded by a sea of black that makes the color pop going mischievous. III leans down to kiss Vessel again, pausing right before their lips touch, moving up to plant a kiss at the tip of his nose instead. All six of Vessel's eyes go cross-eyed as he watches, and III huffs a small laugh of amusement.

"Thank you, pretty. Forgot to ask for that kiss, sorry, love. Can I have another?" III asks, and Vessel nods eagerly, murmuring a quiet yes that gets lost in the sounds of the birdsong around them.

The bellflower has barely remained in Vessel's hair, hanging on by his ear for dear life. III takes two careful fingers and fixes it, leaning down to kiss Vessel as they thread their fingers through what of Vessel's hair is loose from his half-up, half-down hairdo, with a small braid that III had done for him earlier that morning.

As Vessel is finding common for III, the single kiss turns into two turns into three turns into full on making out, all careful teeth and ravaging tongue. Vessel's takes in short, panting breaths between kisses as his lungs burn and still he longs for more, anything and everything III will give him. The smell of the soil and the flowers are strong in his nose, sucking deep breaths in when III gives Vessel a moment to breathe. More and more flowers begin to bloom, all glowing their respective colors gently.

Vessel does not want III to stop kissing him, he fears if he does not figure out how to stop the flowers from growing, the line between garden plot and the rest of the yard surrounding the house will be nonexistent.

When III lets Vessel breathe again, Vessel says as much, in stilted, breathy words as he catches his breath. Flowers are still blooming; bellflowers, daffodils, poppies, and now, pink magnolias that III must know mean shyness. Vessel is certain he will explode from that shyness with how flustered he is, blushing and still breathless but overcome by III's single-minded affections that Vessel cannot deny are genuine. Not when Vessel can feel III's giddy excitement and something else Vessel cannot name, does not properly recognize. Its warm, and feels safe. It feels a little like Vessel's love for III, for II. He wonders if it is their love for him, wonders if he can dare to hope. He wants them to love him, wants that love to last. He wants to be worthy of it.

He asked to be loved, and now, faced with that possibility, Vessel is afraid it is not real, that it is real. Because that means that he was never truly loved before them. And Vessel cannot handle that truth, not now. Cannot handle what that means for him and his past and how he suffered and suffered.

Because II and III love Vessel, with their hearts and souls and everything beyond and between. They love him easily, like breathing. It can be hard, yes, to love Vessel, to love every part of him when their very souls ache at any sliver of knowledge he gives them about his past, at seeing what that past continues to do to him as Vessel mutilates his arms. It makes their blood run cold to think of what he must have suffered, the stories he never told and may never tell. Loving Vessel is to hurt for Vessel, because hurt is all Vessel knows. They love him, far more than he loves himself, and they're going to help him love himself. They do not even know just how far that hatred for himself runs, but their love is endless, something tying their souls together beyond Sleep, and they know it is fate that brought them together, and not only the measly whims of a God.

Because Vessel loves II and III, with his heart and soul and everything beyond and between. There are ten-ton weights attached to his feet, one is by his own hand, and the other has been placed there by his parents, then they tossed him into the ocean and no one ever told him not to breathe. And with every person who had ever willingly hurt him, ruined him, picked his heart to pieces, a new link of the chain only further weighed him down. And so he sunk beneath the waves, and sunk, and sunk, until all he knew was the crushing darkness of the depths as he drowned over and over and over.

Vessel knows what it is like to drown. Knows the burning in his lungs as they beg for air, the way his body fights his hearts desire to die. Vessel had survived that attempt, and did not attempt to drown himself again.

His own weight is loosening, but the other is so hefty, and he has only known its weight for so long, Vessel does not remember what it is like to be weightless.

"What are you thinking about, baby?" III asks, voice soft as they take in the purple hyacinths beginning to blossom around Vessel.

III knows that purple hyacinths are most often used to express sadness.

"Before." Vessel murmurs, and III moves off of him, letting Vessel sit up.

The nickname rubs Vessel the wrong way. He... he hates it, he realizes. It... shit, it reminds him of his past partners. At some point, every one of them had called him a baby. For crying when he was upset or after they'd hurt him. For not being able to go into stores alone, for getting anxiety over basic things at home... It hurts for III to call him that. Vessel wants to ask him to stop. Wonders if III would listen, or would only continue to use the nickname more now that they knew Vessel didn't like it.

There are a multitude of petals in his hair, and as Vessel moves to try and figure out how to get all of these flowers to stop growing, III begins carefully plucking them out of the mess Vessel's hair has become.

"Do you want to talk about it?" III asks, taking note of the small bit of dissatisfaction that splattered like ink over Vessel's bond when III called him a baby.

Vessel wiped it away easily, as though it had never been there as the flowers listen intently to Vessel's silent command to stop, stop growing.

"No, it- it doesn't matter, now. I- Thank you though."

"Of course, love, Two and I are always willing to listen, if you ever need to get something off your chest."

Vessel wants to believe him. Wants to slice open his empty chest and show III what Vessel cannot speak... but Vessel knows that neither the Second nor the Third vessel will continue to love a man who has no heart in his chest to give, no matter if it still beats, just not in his body.

Vessel nods, unable to lie to III, to agree to something he cannot uphold, not again. Little things had become easier to say. It had been easier to go to them before they all got in a relationship, but now Vessel is afraid one wrong move will cause this happiness he feels in his chest to crumble like a stack of cards.

"Let's go grab Two, Sugar. I wanna show him what you've done with the garden. It really is beautiful, I've got to find some pots to move these to. Oh, and I can put some in vases around the house." III helps Vessel up, planting a small kiss on his temple after, and that happiness Vessel had been feeling before his mind started running without him seems to come back, a little.

III wanted Vessel to say that he would talk to them, just to hear it, even if he won't.

"You could offer some to Sleep now, like you wanted." Vessel offers quietly as he and III walk hand in hand back towards the front of the house.

He gently fingers the bellflower in his hair with a smile, and misses the look of complete adoration that slides onto III's face.

Vessel does not recognize the love, sweet and thick, coating the bond. Just because Vessel does not recognize it, does not truly believe it is there or that it will remain, does not mean that it is not there.

"I'll do that later, maybe tomorrow." III hums, swinging their hands gently.

II is on the phone when III and Vessel enter the house, pacing back and forth in the living room. He smiles a little at them as he raises a single finger for them to wait a moment as he continues talking to whoever is on the line. III shrugs, pulling Vessel up the stairs with an unbothered grin.

Vessel follows, enjoying the gentle touch of III's hand clasped in his own, reveling in the attention. III takes him to their room, and when they enter, III pauses long enough to close the door until only a crack remains. Leading Vessel over to the bed while he is simply content to watch, III sits them both at its edge, idly fidgeting with the screensaver in the ensuing silence.

"Wanna make out?" III breaks the silence at random, and Vessel's face goes beet red, not expecting the turn in conversation.

He nods though, ever eager, and lets III lean forward to kiss him. Soon enough, III is slowly pushing Vessel back towards the mattress, climbing onto the bed after him to straddle Vessel's hips.

III's fingers fiddle with the waistband of Vessel's pants, one thumb sliding beneath the fabric to rub sensually over a scarred hip. Vessel loses count of how many kisses III gives him, and wishes he could keep that count to cherish every one.

III's shirt has ridden up over the span of their extensive kissing session, exposing more of their skin to Vessel's enraptured gaze. One pair remains on the exposed flesh of their stomach, another watching III kiss him with abandon. The top set is open, watching III curiously just the same as III is watching him. It should unsettle Vessel for III to like keeping their eyes open when kissing, but it just seems another of III's quirks, just another thing for Vessel to love about them.

Vessel cannot stop staring in hunger, bottom pair of eyes traveling lower, eyes shining as arousal stirs low in his gut. He doesn't expect it to go anywhere further, expects it to be stomped out if this continues the way Vessel thinks it will. The way III seems to be heading.

"Sex on the first date, Sugar? How scandalous." III jokes, and Vessel almost apologizes.

He pauses though, considering, and pointedly does not refute III's joke. If III wants to have sex, Vessel will not deny them. He is good at keeping quiet, he's had so much practice. He can even fake the noises if he works hard enough.

This is what all the kissing has been leading up to, right? One didn't kiss another just for the fun of it. III had just been playing the long game all week, just for this end result. Vessel had been expecting it, had wondered when this would happen. Wondered what III would look like over him, in him.

"If you want to... Just- My... my shirt. Can I keep it on?" This is all Vessel will ask for, he reassures himself.

Only this. Only to keep his heartbeat, or lack thereof, a little harder to detect...

Shit, there's something else Vessel wants too. He needs to tell III. Needs to.

III pulls away entirely, weight held up on by his knees to watch Vessel for a moment, to check for any signs of hesitation. The only sign of uncertainty seems to be with keeping III's hands off of Vessel in all the places he keeps away from touch.

"Of course you can, Ves, if you want to. You look so pretty in it, I could never refuse." III reassures as they strip out of their own shirt and skirt, deliberating for a split second before taking their underwear off too.

All of them is exposed to Vessel, including the markings over their pelvis, black, shadowy flames with an ever shifting little golden question mark pointing towards each hipbone. It gets lost a little in the hair leading down to his dick, but it is no less beautiful.

As Vessel admires him, he divests himself of most of his clothes. Vessel is quickly left in only his shirt and boxers, and III has never seen a more ethereal being in his entire life.

"Kiss me. All that you want. Please." Vessel states, sending his reassurance down the bond.

"Are you sure, my love?" III asks, searching Vessel's face for any uncertainty.

"Yes. Please."

III goes in for a kiss, all tongue and sharp-fanged nips as he shoves Vessel back on the bed. III hopes he isn't being too rough but Vessel never breaks the kiss, letting III maneuver him as they please as the arousal he was feeling ever so slowly begins to grow.

"Are you sure about this, Vessel? I'm perfectly content with getting dressed again and just watching something on my phone with you until Two is done." III pulls away to ask, fixing the flower in Vessel's hair.

Vessel does not respond for a moment, staring up at III with something akin to confusion. He doesn't understand why III is asking. His other partners never asked.

"Yes?" Vessel responds, more of a question than an answer, head tilting just so to the side.

III frowns, sitting up to straddle Vessel's waist, careful not to put any of their weight on him. Vessel hurries to correct himself as III tries to keep an eye on the bond for a lie, "Yes. I am. I want this."

The lie feels like ash on his tongue, and Vessel keeps the spike of panic at lying hidden under the reassurance he shoves down the bond to overshadow it. It matters more to Vessel that III enjoys himself, that III will be satisfied and happy with him. Vessel had never found enjoyment in sex, but that means nothing to him. He's curious how III will sound, hopes it doesn't hurt too badly.

III narrows his eyes in suspicion, and leans down halfway. "If you want this, then kiss me."

"Kiss you?" Vessel murmurs, "You want me to kiss you? Will you not grow tired of me if I kissed you as much as I wish?"

"I will never tire of your lips on mine. If you want to give, then give me all that you can give. I want to taste you better."

Vessel's decision is quick and if his heart were in his chest, he is sure it would pound right out of his skin through his ribcage. Vessel is being so bold, so selfish. But he wants III, anything he will give him.

II and III make him want to be brave, even if he knows he is a coward at heart, even if he knows that their inevitable departure will ruin him like nothing else ever has.

Vessel surges up and plants his lips right on III's, a hand coming to hold their shoulder in another daring action. III moans into the kiss, one hand coming up to grip Vessel's at his shoulder. There is a moment of panic in Vessel's chest as III rips Vessel's hand off of their shoulder, but it is dashed away faster than Vessel can latch on to the emotion as III takes both of Vessel's hands, clasping their fingers together, and shoving them to either side of Vessel's head.

III's tongue is ravaging, exploring Vessel's mouth with haste, and Vessel dares to lean further into it, to shove one thigh up to III's hip just to feel them close.

"I love you." III says when they pull away, "I love you. I love you."

When III says those three words like that, looking down at Vessel with the most adoring expression Vessel has ever seen, Vessel almost believes him. Can almost fool himself into thinking this is real.

"Can I take your underwear off, Sugar?" III asks, and Vessel responds by beginning to wiggle them off his hips with haste.

III reaches to help, planting soft kisses to Vessel's cheeks sporadically, just because they want to. III does not shy away from Vessel's scars peeking over the bandages on his thighs, finding them a safer place to hold than the bandages themselves. III does not want to hurt Vessel by not being careful with his self harm.

Careful not to loosen the bandages on Vessel's thighs, III pulls them up and apart so Vessel is spread before him. Enraptured by the sight of him, III moves their body forward to slot himself between the meaty limbs.

"Gonna get you ready for me, love." III says, circling the tight hole of Vessel's ass with a finger slick with pre-cum taken from III's own cock.

He pushes two in when Vessel nods, not noticing the quickly stifled confusion that Vessel tried to keep at bay. It feels good, Vessel realizes, even as III is hasty with it, adding a third as Vessel sighs at the unfamiliar knot beginning to build in his gut.

Downstairs, II gasps, face twisting as he feels Vessel's pleasure and is nearly overcome by it, quickly making an excuse to call back later to whoever he was on the phone with. II is going to absolutely wreck III when he gets his hands on them just for nor giving II a warning that he'd be bombarded with the other vessels shared pleasure. They were supposed to wait. II just hopes III knows what they're doing. Soft footsteps pad up the staircase, room door closing quietly behind him, fingers already beginning to unbuckle his jeans. Fuck, a warning would have been nice, II thinks as he practically jumps into bed, focusing in on III and Vessel's bonds to relish in the pleasure bleeding into II's own bond.

III fingers Vessel open, and the pleasure that builds in him is consuming every rational thought in his head as III thrusts his fingers quickly. Vessel has never been prepped beforehand, didn't even know it was something one did before having sex with another man. III continues to surprise him, and Vessel thinks that maybe sex could be something he enjoys, if its with III. If it stays like this.

III is kissing Vessel again, gently taking one of his angel bite piercings between their teeth and pulling before going back to kissing him with abandon, and he has lost count of how many times they've done so since this started. Vessel grins into the kiss, unable to help himself. Kissing them is one of the greatest joys in Vessel's life and it never fails to pull a smile out of him, despite his insecurities.

The pace of III's fingers is fast and deep, working Vessel open quicker than III had intended but he was so eager, so desperate. Desperate to be inside Vessel and finally know what it feels like to have the other man under them, to see what expressions will befall his expressive features after III gets their cock into him.

III swears he could cum from the sight of Vessel alone, hazy eyes unfocused as his bond tells of his pleasure, hair splayed out around him as III finally slips their fingers out, deeming Vessel's ass thoroughly prepped. He is the picture of beauty, covered in his own self-harm scarring and bandages, markings gifted by Sleep peeking out from the open V of his shirt.

"Putting it in now, Ves." III warns as he lines himself up, and Vessel only nods, one pair of ruby eyes managing to catch III's pretty blues as the top pair tries to also take every inch of III in at once.

The bottom pair trails down from III's face to their neck, down their chest, catching on their happy trail and the markings clearly visible, and then watches as III starts to push his thick cock into Vessel.

It's a slow, agonizing push, but Vessel expected it to hurt worse than it did. He supposes the prep work III did was useful after all, and feels a tiny seed of bitterness sprout in his soul that he stomps out with ease, but the thought remains. That is all his first lover would have needed to do to make sure it didn't feel like Vessel was being torn open every time they had sex? Vessel doesn't deserve the kindness III has shown him already, and definitely doesn't deserve to feel this good as III pushes in at a snails pace.

Vessel wants to ask him to go faster, to hurry up, because Vessel has never felt like this before and desperately needs more, needs to feel all of III inside of him right now. Vessel will not allow himself to ask something so selfish, no matter how greatly he wants to beg and plead and moan for more, more.

III works into Vessel slowly, a little to be a brat, but also because he likes the expression of pleasure on Vessel's face and wants it to last a little longer. They like the impatient little furrow to Vessel's brow that he tries to rid himself of before III can notice. III thanks Sleep for every little punctuated breath they pull out of Vessel with every inch of his cock sliding into him. The bond speaks of the ecstasy Vessel is feeling, and it seems heightened as the both of them feel it over the tether, almost sharing in it, heightening it, it seems like.

Nearly half way in, III pulls out, leaning down to kiss Vessel again at the same moment he shoves back in, bullying himself a little further inside. They swallow the surprised huff that spills from Vessel's lips with glee, pulling away as they slowly push their cock in further.

"You're so pretty below me, Sugar." III groans, enjoying the way Vessel's already flushed face goes even redder as III finally bottoms out, thumbing over the wet tip of Vessel's dick with intent.

"My pretty boy." III continues just to see how Vessel reacts, squeezing Vessel's hand as they very slowly pull out and then push back in to the hilt.

His ears go red next, six eyes unable to focus on anything as III continues thrusting into him, holding his dick in their large hand and squeezing gently, the bed creaking lowly below them. Golden tears bead at the corners of his glowing red eyes, slipping over as Vessel's cums into and on III's hand with a silent shout, panting at the ecstasy coursing through him, embarrassed it had hit him so quickly. III leans down to kiss him, hand leaving Vessel's own to tangle in his hair, not pulling at first, merely resting between the strands.

"I love you." III whispers against Vessel's lips, watching every minute change in Vessel's expression intently as III continues thrusting.

Vessel can barely manage to repeat the phrase with such reverence, words punctuated with every thrust of III's hips into the backs of Vessel's bandaged thighs.

There is a brief moment where III groans, pulling out and shoving a little deeper to grind his dick into Vessel a little further as Vessel lets out the closest thing he's made to a moan, more of a harsh wheeze, and III pulls his hair. It is barely a pinch of pain before III lets go entirely, taking a second to massage the spot they pulled before that hand comes to wipe away some of Vessel's tears. Vessel had been reminded of his third partner, for that split second, but III did not pull so hard that Vessel loses strands between their fingers like Vessel had expected. III had then soothed the spot lightly even if it didn't even truly hurt.

Vessel's chest heaves on the tail end of a sob, so silent as his shoulders shake, III fucking him so good he sees stars, and yet he doesn't make a sound. Not a sound of pleasure or pain. III almost stops fucking him to ask if he was alright, but Vessel grabs III's hips and forces him to stay inside, begging quietly for III to keep going.

Vessel can't believe he was so selfish to ask for something like that. Never before had he had the urge to keep going, not when his partner was being so rough. Though, Vessel finds that there is a stark difference in roughness, between III and his first partner. This doesn't hurt. There is an ache in his muscles, yes, as III pulls one thigh, then the other over their shoulders to somehow go even deeper inside of him, an action that causes the pleasure he is feeling to heighten exponentially. There is a slight sting on his lip where one of III's fangs nicked the skin, but Vessel enjoys it.

There is overwhelming ecstasy in Vessel as III's cock hits a spot in him that Vessel didn't even know he had, sending stars across his vision as a tiny little keen slips out, lost in the beautiful sounds III is making above him.

III is a little gentler after that, a little slower as Vessel's bond is filled with mind-numbing pleasure. III leans further into Vessel's space, arms reaching around his shoulders to pull him up, squeezing a little too tightly as Vessel wiggles enough for there to be a little space between their chests as III kisses him again. Release hits Vessel quickly when III hits that previously unknown spot in him, tipping Vessel over the edge again as III cums inside him and Vessel's release splatters over III's stomach. III's lips are on Vessel's again, and again, as they grind their cock and cum into Vessel slowly, murmuring softly, "You did so good for me, Sugar, so good. Such a good boy."

Being called good lights Vessel's nerves on fire, and he feels like he's floating in the aftershocks of his orgasm, smiling happily. Vessel didn't realize sex could feel this good.

III stills, finally, panting and satisfied as they pull out, dropping to lay beside Vessel, shoulders pressed close.

Vessel longs to feel III back inside him already. Longs for that closeness.

They lay there for a few minutes, basking in the afterglow and catching their breaths. III's heart pounds in their chest, hand reaching down blindly to find Vessel's hand, clasping it tightly to bring it up to kiss the back of it, letting their hands fall to rest on their touching thighs.

"That was- It was... It was good." Vessel murmurs, a little in awe, a little confused.

"Yeah, it was. I didn't mean to hold you that tightly towards the end, sorry." III apologizes, "And I think I was a little rough overall. Held you when you asked me not to touch your chest. I'll try not to do that again."

Vessel finds himself surprised, again. III thought that was rough? He didn't hurt Vessel, only shoved him around once or twice, he actually prepped him to take his cock, it felt- it felt amazing.

"No, no, it was... it was good. Better than any other time I've-" Vessel forces out before catching himself, realizing with some anxiety that III could have felt Vessel's lack of heartbeat.

No. They couldn't have. The pounding of III's heart alone must have been enough for them not to notice before I pulled away. Right?, Vessel tries desperately to convince himself.

Vessel will need to request something else. He doesn't know how to ask them to keep the touching to a bare minimum during sex, but he cannot risk something like that happening again. If III was a little more aware... Vessel's secret would be out and they would abandon him.

"I know I'm good but that good? You're overexaggerating, Sugar." III laughs, before a concerned frown just slightly graces his lips.

They hope that's all it is, but with Vessel, he knows he shouldn't expect most things to be just whatever.

Vessel doesn't say anything for a while, only turns onto his side to draw contemplative circles on III's shoulder, still a little lost in the pleasure they had just partook in. He... wants to open up to them more. He... wants them to know him. Truly know him beyond what he has allowed, beyond the mask (ha) he hides behind. Vessel knows he will regret this when given the time to overthink it, but he has never been subject to such pleasure before, and his mind is still a little scrambled in the aftermath, still shaking with the aftereffects of his orgasms.

"My first partner was a man. He was rough, and stronger, and didn't care if it was pleasurable for me. He only cared about himself." III stiffens at his side, bond filling with a sense of wrongness and anxiety.

Vessel's own bond is anxious, but he needs to say this. II sends down feelings of question and Vessel shoves back reassurance quickly, feeling II ease up on his worry in reluctant acceptance.

"Vessel, did I hurt-" III starts, frantic as he moves to sit up, but Vessel cuts him off.

"No. You didn't hurt me. You weren't even particularly rough, I'm fine. I enjoyed it. A lot, actually. I would... like to do it again, if you'll still have me." It's difficult to get the words out when Vessel is still struggling with his voice, but he manages and is, as usual, surprised when III does not rush him, or tell him to shut up.

III sits up, rolling over to cage Vessel in their arms below him, gaze intense and needing Vessel to believe them as he struggles to shove down their fury. "I'll always have you, as long as you're willing."

Vessel smiles, and it is a small thing that barely exposes a fang, that barely scrunches his lower pair of eyes. "I'll be willing as long as you'll have me."

"Do you mean that or are you just scared I'll be upset with you if you say no? You can say no to sex, whenever you do not want to have it." III argues gently, using one hand to brush some stray hair off of Vessel's sweaty forehead.

Vessel averts his gaze, unable to meet III's eyes when he knows they've hit the nail on the head once again. When Vessel becomes vulnerable, and shares things about himself, they seem to be able to pick up on more than what is said.

"I mean it. I really do. I promise." And Vessel does.

He means it with his entire heart and soul. Vessel didn't know sex could be... didn't know sex could feel good. So, so good. Vessel wants more, wants to feel III inside him again, needs to. Needs it like breathing. Needs III's lips on his and their cock ruining him.

Vessel didn't think he would ever want to have sex, let alone multiple rounds of it. II and III were so different from everyone else Vessel had ever known, you'd think he would no longer be surprised by it. When they first started this encounter, Vessel only agreed for III's benefit. It very quickly became something Vessel enjoyed too, and this dubious consent turned into enthusiastic consent very quickly, whether III knew or not.

"Can... we go again?" Vessel asks, after a moment, a blush staining his cheeks. "Right now?"

III stares intently for a moment, feeling down the bond and watching Vessel's face. Vessel really does want more, III realizes, as a bit of giddiness creeps up on him despite their worry. III answers by slowly sliding back in with help from his hand, watching Vessel's face crease in pleasure with a harsh breath as he writhes ever so slightly from under them, hands held close to his stomach. Even now, he makes no sound. One day, III promises, one day III will fuck Vessel so good he'll make the most beautiful sounds without being able to stop himself and they will eat it up like a man starved.

"I wonder if II ever finished that phone call." III muses, realizing they'd not seen nor heard from him since they'd come back in the house from the garden.

Oh well, unless II comes knocking, III will continue as long as they please, as long as Vessel wishes.

Vessel lets out a hum as a response that turns into a long, drawn out breath of pleasure as III uses one hand to hold both of Vessel's to the best of their ability, rubbing over a knuckle with their thumb, thrusting deep and quick while the other hand holds the headboard for stability. Again, Vessel lets out little, punctuated huffs as his face twists in pleasure, body moving with the force of III's thrusts and all III wants is to take a photo of him. Wants to worship him, caress every inch of Vessel's skin with their hands, their mouth. Lavish his body in attention. Wants to make Vessel forget every time he'd been fucked before and replace the memories with III.

III wonders sometimes if he is being too clingy, too forward, with his kisses. They ask for them all the time, especially with Vessel. With II, III can worship him however he wants. Run his hands over his arms, down his sides, touch him. With Vessel, there are so few ways to physically show just how much III adores him. Kissing him seems like all III can do, sometimes. At least now, III has this.

III fucks Vessel again and again, and the last time, as Vessel and III cum with III's breathy, overstimulated whine, III leans over close and kisses his forehead tenderly, trying to shove as much of his love into that single action as possible. III remains close as they continue slowly fucking into him with deep, slow strokes to ride out the last of his high. Vessel reacts completely out of instinct, mind muddled from the multiple rounds with barely a break between, grasping a gentle hand around III's hair and pulling his head a little to the side, sitting up with core strength alone and biting the space between III's neck and shoulder.

III moans as Vessel freezes under him, bond going a little distant to hide his distress as he tries to pull away in the sudden panic that shoots through him. His hand quickly releases III's hair, laying back on the bed, head bowed submissively to watch III through his lashes with expecting eyes.

"Do that again?" III asks gently in light of Vessel's panic as he stops moving inside of Vessel.

Confused and still panicked, Vessel very slowly shakes his head in refusal, eyes wide and alert. "Okay, Sugar, that's fine. If you ever want to bite me again, I don't mind. I really liked it."

Vessel pays very close attention to III's voice, to their bond, to see if they are lying but Vessel cannot detect an ounce of uncertainty or untruth, but he is sure he's only missing the signs due to his scattered thoughts. III's dick twitches in interest from inside of him and Vessel lets out a little pleasured, pained huff at the overstimulation it brings.

"I think I'm gonna call it quits for now, Sugar. I'm tired and you're looking a little pale. So pretty though, all fucked out." III coos at the end as they slip out, brushing some messy, sweaty strands away from Vessel's face, just to watch Vessel get all flustered.

The brat in him just can't help it. He'll say or do anything, within reason, to get Vessel to blush. He'd kept himself on a bit of a leash today, not knowing how far he could go with his brat tendencies. III isn't even sure they'd be able to explain it to Vessel, certain that Vessel had no clue what a brat even was. III himself was a little unused to topping, but they figure they can get some pointers from II. There's no way that beautiful little man isn't a top, if not a dom.

III needs to talk with II, after they clean the both of them up and get some water and food into Vessel and themself. While not needing it to survive, III figures it would help return some color to Vessel's pale, exhausted face. Anything would help, III is sure, since Vessel cannot sleep his exhaustion off.

III frowns at that thought, trying to stifle the negativity they can feel creeping up on them. Vessel didn't need to feel it. Maybe fucking Vessel a few times in one go was a bad idea, since there is no rest to be had for him afterwards.

Sitting up, III scoots to the end of their bed, stretching. They turn their head to look back at Vessel, finding him still laying down quietly, an arm over his face to hide his eyes, though III can see the bottom pair is closed. Attuning themselves to the bond the vessels share, III focuses on Vessel's specifically, finding it a mix of confused and anxious and utterly exhausted, but also happy. So happy. While the happiness III is glad for, the others worry them a bit. Maybe Vessel didn't want to have sex with III. They asked, of course they did, but did Vessel just go along with it? Damn it all to Sleep. They need to talk to II.

First, they need to clean themself and Vessel up. III's stomach and dick is covered in sticky white cum, and a brief glance shows Vessel's ass is leaking III's release. As much as III doesn't want to have to clean himself off of Vessel, it must be done. For hygiene, III pouts, standing.

"Gonna go get some water and a snack, love, you should shower. I'll bring it to you after." III urges, and Vessel hums noncommittally, bond only getting more weary.

III's frown grows, pulling their shirt, underwear, and skirt back on after wiping themself off with some tissues. He makes sure to clear it off their face before turning to Vessel.

They turn to wipe Vessel down next, his eyes still closed and breathing even. III knows he isn't asleep, couldn't even if he wanted to. Vessel's eyes blink open slowly, half-lidded and tired and bond still radiating confusion as he watches in silence as III wipes their cum off him.

"What're you doing?" Vessel asks, so quietly III is sure Vessel didn't mean to speak it aloud.

"Cleaning you up, love." III responds, not pausing in their task.

They're gentle as they wipe Vessel off, as he visibly struggles not to squirm away when III cleans off his over-sensitive dick. "There you go, Sugar."

Vessel's confusion has not left, but the happiness he has been feeling remains, stronger than his unsurety. He nods, taking his underwear from III when they hand it over. III watches as Vessel crawls to the side of the bed, sitting down to slip his underwear back on. III is so busy taking in his lithe form that he almost misses Vessel's wince of pain as he stands, stretching and yet keeping the space he takes up while doing so small.

"Do you need help?" III asks, already standing with their arm out to help Vessel walk, but the other man shakes his head quickly in refusal.

"'m fine." His voice is a little hoarse, still quieter than it's already quiet cadence, but Vessel's words are less stilted than they'd been the past day or so since his voice came back.

"If you're sure." III says lightly, fighting to keep the frown off their face.

Vessel slips his pants back on, walking with a limp out of the room. III follows, catching Vessel by the hand and pulling him back, "Can I have a kiss, Sugar?"

Vessel desperately needs III to stop asking, wants III to kiss him whenever they want, even if Vessel knows he doesn't deserve them. But he doesn't have the courage to tell III to do so, and so Vessel merely nods, leaning in as III does. This kiss is shorter than usual, but no less fierce. Once again Vessel feels consumed by III, and loves it.

"Enjoy your shower, love, I'll see you in a minute." III says, pulling away to plant a kiss on Vessel's forehead, before ever so gently taking him by the shoulders and urging him downstairs.

Vessel goes with that limp still present, and III wishes he could enjoy the fact he'd fucked Vessel so well he could barely walk, but finds himself to be more concerned than anything else. III goes to knock on II's door when he thinks its been long enough for Vessel to get down the stairs, and enters when II gives the go ahead from the other side.

"Were you listening, Doll? I like to think I put on a good show, though Ves is quiet even in bed. So pretty though. So expressive." III says, leaning against the doorframe with a sly little smile.

II's face is flushed, splayed out over his bed in nothing but a tank top and his underwear, and III is sure this is the most flustered they've ever seen him.

"You're a little brat. Did Ves give you that on your neck?" He asks, gesturing in III's direction at the teeth indents in their skin.

"I wouldn't exactly call myself little, Shortie, and yes, he did. Pretty, is it? I've not seen it yet."

Vessel blushes, continuing down the hall from where he had stopped to curiously listen to II and III's conversation, making his way to the restroom for that shower III insisted he take.

"It is, yes, and not really surprising Vessel has a biting kink." II starts, seeming to not notice III's slight against his height, but sighs after a moment, "I thought we agreed we were going to talk it over before we had sex."

III's guilt floods the bond, and he hopes Vessel doesn't take the emotion the wrong way, knowing the other can feel it. "I know, we rushed into it. He agreed before we started though."

"Did you at least set some form of safe word or color system?" At III's bond growing more guilty and the way they can't meet II's searching gaze, II frowns in clear disappointment.

"Such a brat." II admonishes again with only a little heat, "Those are important. Did anything happen that you think Vessel might have needed to safe-word out of?"

"He explained some stuff about his first partner." III tells II what Vessel had said about his first partner, frowning, "He did look a little freaked out after he bit me though. I tried reassuring him over it, but I'm not sure the message got through to him."

"Three, this is why we needed to have a conversation about it before we actually had sex with each other." II groans, burying his face in his hands before looking back up in exasperation, "Did he seem okay when you left just now?"

"I mean, I think so? A little confused when I cleaned the both of us up. Seemed alright when I said I was gonna get a snack and some water."

II sighs again, beckoning III closer from where he has remained laid out on the bed. He smiles as III climbs onto the bed curiously, sitting on their heels beside him. One hand reaches up, caressing III's jaw, tracing their swollen lips with a thumb. One hand goes to wrap around their nape, pulling him down into a kiss as II sits up to meet him. "Good boy for taking care of him. I'm proud of you. You're to come back here, tonight." II orders, and III's eyebrows raise in incredulity.

II hurries to correct himself, "Only if you want to, of course."

"I was planning on that anyway?" III says, confused.

"Not to sleep, sweetheart. Not at first, at least."

"Oh. Oh."

After III realizes what II meant, excitement starts to buzz under their skin. "We're talking with Vessel tomorrow, and I am a little upset at how overeager you were... but, hm... Was he as pretty as I imagine?"

"Ethereal. Like a gift from the Gods. I'll have to see if he's okay with pictures. Not right now, of course. This is still new. But in the future, maybe." III waves their hands with the words, excited at the prospect.

"I should've known you'd be into lascivious photos with what you'd said before." II hums with a smirk that puts his dimple on display. "Well, I'm not against photos as long as you behave."

"Aww, I could've gotten that photo of you flushed and spread over your bed when I came in." III whines into II's chest with a pout.

"If you're good, I may let you take one or two later. Now, off with you. You need a shower and Vessel should be done."

"Fine." III drags out the word dramatically, pulling away from II with one last kiss, pulling gently on his lower lip as he goes.

II's amused laugh as he picks up his phone follows III out of the room. III makes his way down to the kitchen, humming the whole way. He can hear the water running from down the hall, turning just in time to watch Elvira chase a spider down that direction, and gets to work on figuring out what snack to bring Vessel. While they do so, they hear the water turn off and the bathroom door open. Like usual, Vessel's feet make no sound as they tap along the floor, but he does leave an accidental trail of water droplets, hurriedly wiping the mess up before escaping upstairs.

III knocks on Vessel's door, finding it unlocked when Vessel calls out a quiet 'come in.' In their arms is a couple water bottles and the same amount of granola bars.

Vessel is drying off his hair more thoroughly when III steps through the door, and his middle pair of eyes slides over to him when the door creaks open.

His shirt is yet to be worn, sitting in front of him. All he is wearing is a pair of pajama pants with the band peaking over the waist and a pair of pink socks covered in pale blue jellyfish. He looks beautiful, III thinks as they walk forward to place their items on the bed.

"Can I kiss you?" III asks, and smiles in amusement when Vessel lets out a quiet huff of mock irritation.

"Yes." He replies, and III leans down to do just as they had requested.

They keep it short, pulling away to shove a granola bar into Vessel's hands. "You're still pale, Ves. Eat this."

Vessel nods, and as III lays over his bed beside Vessel, kicking his feet in the air absentmindedly as they scroll on their phone, Vessel contemplates something as he chews.

"Can you..." Vessel swallows a bite, then continues, "Can you braid my hair?"

III lights up, "Of course, Sugar, let me go get- Oh. Thank you."

III sits up quickly to go get a couple rubber hair ties, but is stopped short when Vessel pulls some from the pocket of his pajama pants. They sit behind Vessel, brushing through his hair with gentle hands to make sure there are no knots that Vessel might have missed, and then begin braiding Vessel's hair.

III takes his time, being careful with every strand of hair they pull into the braid so that they don't tug on Vessel's scalp. Vessel has become putty in their hands, leaning back towards III and eyes fluttering like he could fall right to sleep. Of course, sleep does not come for him, but he sits in the drowsiness anyway. Enjoys the way III's fingers ran through his hair, the way III would lean forward at random to kiss Vessel's bare shoulder. The shiver that would travel down Vessel's spine at the warm breath against his skin, every time, without fail.

If III wanted to take him right then, Vessel would let him, eagerly.

Vessel is confused when after III finishes braiding his hair, III doesn't ask for sex again. Is that not what he came to Vessel for? Is that not why he stayed after bringing the snacks? Vessel is confused when III simply wants to hang out as they each do their own thing, sitting beside each other on Vessel's bed as he reads and III scrolls through memes and funny videos on their phone, occasionally showing him the ones they deem peak comedy. III's curls tickle Vessel's nose from his heads place on Vessel's shoulder. Vessel is content to let III stay there for as long as they wish, no matter how confused Vessel has become.

None of his other partners ever came to simply exist with him after they'd had their fill of Vessel's body. They always rejected any of Vessel's attempts, and when he got with his third partner, he had stopped trying to ask for affection after sex even if he ached for it. For it to be so freely given, for III to simply turn their head to place a kiss against Vessel's shoulder at random- Its jarring.

It makes Vessel feel warm inside.

III leaves just before dinner to take a shower, parting from Vessel's side with a kiss to his forehead and a loving goodbye tossed over their shoulder as they bounce out of the room. Over dinner, Vessel does not miss the glances III keeps sending II as he reads through a book on physics. Does not miss the frustrated, flustered blush spreading over II's face as III does something with their socked foot under the table. Startles when III yelps, knee banging into the table and shaking the liquid in their cups after II kicks him hard in the shin.

"Please stop that." II demands in a calm voice, and Vessel turns all six eyes to glance nervously back and forth between II and III.

III smirks, acquiescing easier than II expected. II narrows his eyes as III goes back to eating, a mischievous grin on their face. Vessel can only continue watching in confusion, as nothing seems to go the way he thought it would. There was no fight or argument, and II didn't even seem genuinely upset by whatever it was III was doing.

These two are nothing like any partner Vessel has ever had, and his head can't quite seem to wrap around that information. Maybe it's different because there's three of them, all dating each other. Maybe it's different because they are all no longer completely human. Maybe its different because Sleep brought them all together. Whatever it is, Vessel cannot seem to process it.

When dinner is over, II and III offer for Vessel to join them in the living room for a movie. He politely declines, leaning into the kisses they give his cheeks and shyly echoes their 'I love you's, and heads off to the practice room to continue writing that song he had been working on.

Vessel realizes, as he sits down at his piano, guitar in hand and journal placed beside him with its pen, that he had had his first date today.

A smile pulls at his cheeks subconsciously, and for the umpteenth time that day, Vessel feels warm. Feels cared for. Feels... wanted.

::

III can barely pay attention to the movie playing on the TV. He is hyper aware of every brush of II's thigh against their own, hyper aware of II's hand on their thigh that squeezes every so often.

III, in their impatience, keeps messing idly with the braid in their hair, pulling at it and turning it around and around their finger until the rubber band snaps. The sound startles III and he jumps, which doesn't escape II's notice.

"Just can't wait for me to fuck you, can you Three?" II says, pausing the movie with an exasperated sigh that III can tell is lighthearted.

"So impatient." II states, standing as III laughs.

III's laughter is abruptly cut off when II reaches down and pulls them up by their arm and into a searing kiss. Its adorable that III has to hunch over so far just for their lips to meet, even if II gets on his toes.

"We have to talk to him tomorrow about the sex. As good as this is gonna be, sweetheart, we shouldn't be doing this either, but someone's impatient and can't keep their dick in their pants. And I'm weak to your hypnotizing wiles."

III pouts as II leads them up to his room, "I said I was sorry. You're both just irresistible. I couldn't help myself."

"I know you're genuinely apologetic, Three, but we need to be careful with Vessel. Our relationship is still so new, and he has shared so little of what his past ones were like. We should have been more careful."

"I know. I would have stopped if he'd asked it of me. I probably should have anyway, but I think he's still hiding his emotions away. He kept any indication of discomfort well away from my notice, except for what I've already mentioned, and he'd asked me to continue. Asked for more, even. I know for a fact he was genuine in that. Any hesitation was at the beginning."

III lets their words sit in the air, watching II idly pace the length of his floor.

II sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It seems the only way to get Vessel to tell us anything is if we make him feel like he has to. I hate it. I want him to trust us enough to tell us when he is ready, but I know he will only keep everything that hurts him inside so we never have to see it."

"We don't ask him about his past, Doll, but for things like sex, this is stuff we need to know so we don't hurt each other."

"I know, I know. We only sat down for that conversation about that sleeping ability that isn't his because he was hurting, changing himself for us."

III let's II pace for only a minute longer before stalking forward. They take his hand in theirs, halting any further movement as II stops to look at him. "You need to relax now, Doll. Use me to de-stress."

II sucks in a shaky breath, and lets the rest of his anxiety out on the exhale. III is right. Things will go alright tomorrow, they'll explain things if Vessel is confused about anything. It'll be okay. It always ends up okay, as long as they have each other.

II nods, and reaches out with his available hand to pull III down into a chaste kiss.

"Get on the bed, sweetheart. And close the door behind you, open just a crack in case Vessel wishes to join, if he has the courage at this stage." II says, turning on the bedside lamp and fixing the sheets.

III watches II to make sure the other is really okay, before nodding in return, bringing up a playful smile.

"Who made you the boss?" III taunts, smirking as they move to get on the bed as requested after completing their given task.

II raises an eyebrow, a slow smile spreading across his face to reveal his single dimple as he watches III mess up the sheets he just fixed. Oh, II sees how it is. He should've known. Especially after how knowing III had looked when II had called them a brat earlier.

III climbs onto the bed just as II asked, but then they stand, needing to duck to avoid hitting their head the ceiling, smiling all the way.

At II's other eyebrow raising in incredulity, III responds innocently, "You said to get on the bed."

"Yes, well, lay down now." II demands, moving forward slowly like a predator eyeing its prey, catching the mischievous glint in III's eyes.

III eyes him for a moment, considering, then says with a wider smirk than before, "No. I don't think I will. I quite like it up here. You're even smaller from this angle."

II contemplates how likely it is that III will bang their head or something on the way down before grabbing their calf, pulling them down and towards II. They let out a small shout of surprise, landing on the bed with a laugh.

"You asshole!" They exclaim, before pausing, letting go of their snark for a moment, "I mean that lightheartedly, lovingly."

"I know you didn't mean anything by it. Of course you'd be the type to curse at someone as a term of endearment." II chuckles, grabbing III's other calf as they try to wiggle away futilely.

"Finally letting yourself show just how much of a menace you are, huh Three?" II croons with clear affection, using one hand to pin III's arms above their head.

"Is this okay?" II asks, tapping III's clasped hands with a finger in question.

III nods, but II isn't satisfied. "Use your words, Three."

"Yes."

"Good boy." II says, and III feels a zing of arousal shoot through him.

Damn, no wonder Vessel seemed to like being called good. It felt amazing. Especially coming from II.

"Now stay still. Do not move an inch, Three." II commands, and III nods.

"Words, pretty."

"You can't use that term on me, I use it on Ves." III frowns in mock irritation.

"You're both pretty, Three. Would you like me to stop calling you that, though?"

"No... I like it." III refuses to meet II's searching gaze, pout still present.

II wants to kiss it off of him, and so he does, nipping gently at III's lower lip with his teeth.

"Alright, pretty. Now, do not move, understand?"

"Yes."

"Good, Three."

II takes his shirt off, exposing the golden filigree markings just below their collarbones, the only other marking he gained from Sleep aside from the ones on his arms and legs. Realization dawns on III slowly as they notice how II's markings, the black of his forearms and up his calves do not travel as far up the limbs as it does on III or Vessel. It must be a byproduct of not eating the entirety of the apple of Eden, the reason II did not get more than superhuman strength and a weapon as his gifts.

III is only given a moment to ogle II and his beauty, the visible strength in the muscles of his arms from rigorous drumming, before II is on top of III, strong thighs caging III in as II straddles them. II has divested himself of his pants too, III realizes, as his boxers strain from the hard line of his cock. Arms on either side of them to serve as further entrapment, II says sternly, "I'm going to keep this nice and simple. We're using the color system tonight. Do you know it?"

III nods, meeting II's eyes with a mischievous glint.

"Words, Three." There's a hard edge to II's voice that III is going to enjoy hearing more of.

III laughs, wiggling out from under II. They both know II allowed it. They both enjoy it when II reaches out and grabs III by the calf again, pulling them back and grabbing their shoulder. II wrestles III under him, superior strength making it easy. The first thing II notices are the markings spread over III's back, creeping over their shoulders to their collarbones, like Vessel's own markings. II is fascinated by the markings fanning out over their back, crawling up their spine in swirls of black ink, his skin adding the detailing of moving flame with a few little golden question marks swirling throughout. The flame seems to flicker and change before II's eyes, ever shifting. He watches as one of the question marks fades like smoke, reappearing upside down.

II takes in the beautiful sight below him, and the red sigil right above III's tailbone with excitement, color system momentarily forgotten. "Three, sweetheart, I found your mark from Sleep, among other things."

"Really?" III exclaims, squirming in II's hold. "Where is it?"

"Stop moving, pretty. I'm trying to take a photo."

III pouts for a second before a grin spreads across their cheeks. III presses his ass right up against II's cock, grinding on it just to frustrate II. "You're being bad, sweetheart." II warns, trying to keep the phone steady and focused on the sigil.

"What are you going to do about it, Doll?" III smirks as II just takes a photo, not caring if its blurry or not as he tosses it somewhere on the bed.

The expression is quickly wiped off his face as a hand tangles in their hair and pulls back harshly, straining his neck. III grunts as II presses close, "Punish you, honey."

II loosens his grip a little, leaving a little more leeway between his fingers and III's scalp, "Not pulling too tight, am I?"

"No... Sir." III tests out the name, knowing they chose right when a spark of arousal shoots down II's bond. "Thanks for asking. You can pull a bit harder if you want." II does not respond, only does as requested, and enjoys the breathy little groan it pulls out of III.

"Perfect." He moans, and II revels in the sound, leaning over to trail kisses down his spine.

"While you didn't respond verbally like I asked, you did show you knew the color system. I expect you to use it if I do something you don't like or aren't sure about." II states, pulling just slightly harder on III's hair to elicit another moan.

"I'm going to get you ready to take me, sweetheart. You will tell me to slow down, or go faster. Whether I listen is up to how good you are, how well you beg. You will tell me if you even slightly slip into the yellow stage. I will stop and we'll talk over what made you feel that way. Alright, sweetheart?" While II is speaking, his fingers have been slowly tracing down III's spine, along the vertebrae and down his tailbone.

"Yes, sir."

II groans, cock kicking at the term so he shoves it right up to III's ass to grind against for more friction. "Good boy."

II pulls away enough to prod at III's hole with a finger, "Have you ever bottomed during sex with a man before?"

II slips one finger in as III responds, then another, "I think so, though I obviously don't remember faces or names. I usually only bottom."

"Good, so you know what it feels like to take a cock." II hums, thrusting his fingers slowly.

III's answer agreement is breathless, his own arousal heightened by being able to feel II's.

"Tell me, sweetheart, did you open Vessel up just like this?" II asks, scissoring his fingers just once and relishing the moan III lets out.

"N-not quite. Too eager. Finally had him under me. Wanted to be inside him so badly." III grinds back into II's fingers after a particularly rough thrust.

Fuck, II wants to hurry and fill III up.

"Stay still."

III lets out a whine when II suddenly removes his fingers, the warmth of his body pulling away as III's body falls softly down to the bed. He turns his head to see where II has gone, finding him slipping his underwear down his thighs.

III's eyes immediately fall to rest on II's thick cock, hard between his legs.

"Do you think you're ready to take me now?"

"Yes, sir." III responds obediently, tearing their eyes away to meet II's soft blue's, staring down at him so lovingly that III can't help the adoring smile that pulls involuntarily at his lips.

"Kiss me, please, sir?" III asks, as II crawls back onto the bed, lifting III's hips back up, level with II's dick.

"Of course, pretty, since you asked so nicely." II responds, gently taking one side of III's face to pull him over just enough for their lips to meet.

"I love you." II says into III's mouth, pulling away.

"I love you, too, Doll. Now, please fuck me." III smiles, which then turns into a wry smirk.

"With pleasure, brat." II lines himself up before he speaks again. "Describe it to me. Tell me what he looked like when you creamed inside him."

"He- His eyes- They rolled upwards-" III moans at the slow stretch of II's girthy cock filling them up, "Glowed when he came all over my stomach. Sleep, he was so pretty. Covered in gold from his tears- Agh."

II sinks in as far as he can go on a low groan at just the thought of Vessel below III. Fuck, II wants to see it.

II starts up a slow pace, strong hands holding III still with ease. Every moan that he pulls from their lips is labored, and fuck, II loves how vocal III is.

"He must have been a sight." II murmurs, leaning down to mouth at III's nape after pushing his hair aside.

"Jealous I was the first to see him that way?" III muses, grunting when II reaches around III's hip to grab their dick.

"Why would I be? I'm the first to see you this way. Moaning under me as I ruin you on my cock. You're currently getting the most, though, out of the three of us. Fucked or been fucked twice already." II smiles in faint amusement, not really dejected as III moans from below him.

II would have waited for Vessel forever if III hadn't come along and stolen II's heart too, hadn't come along and been the catalyst for all three of them finally getting in a relationship. What's a little more waiting for sex, if Vessel even wants to have sex with him, in the face of their foreseeable future as lovers? II gets to kiss Vessel... He gets to love him as he wanted, gets to tell him whenever he wants.

II grinds his cock into III a little deeper and they writhe, completely losing the last shred of any snark they'd had when they started.

II keeps a careful eye on the bond he shares with III. Its useful, II finds, to tell when III is getting close to cumming. It allows II to stop thrusting right before he or III falls over that edge and II basks in it, thanking Sleep for the bond.

II makes a game of it, fucking into III just until the other is about to cum, then pulling out nearly to the tip. II revels in the begging that follows, only starting up his thrusts again when III's voice gets suitably desperate, clawing at the sheets with tears in their eyes.

II loves the way III feels around him, slowly stroking their dick in hand, just enough stimulation to keep them at the edge of release as he slows his thrusting down again.

"Color, honey?" II asks, stopping his thrusts entirely.

It takes III a moment to open their eyes, lost in the way II feels inside him. He pants against the pillows, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead. "G-green."

"Good boy." II praises, leaning over to place a kiss into their shoulder.

He pulls out nearly all the way, shoving himself back in before starting a slow pace, watching the red sigil directly above III's tailbone shimmer in the low light. "You're going to explain the color system to Vessel. Got it, sweetheart?"

"Mm." III hums, blinking to get rid of some of the stars dancing in their vision, "Yes. Sorry, didn't mean to forget."

"Apologize to Vessel, not me, honey." II continues fucking into III slowly, building upon the orgasm he can feel nearing. "The color system is important for setting boundaries."

II stops moving, ignoring III's desperate begging for him to continue, ignoring the placating apologies so that II will continue, though II knows III really does mean them. II is well aware III regrets not talking things through with Vessel, but they were clear that Vessel wanted it, for sure, after they started. Its that initial hesitation, what Vessel said to them after the first go... the brief stint of panic that II felt from Vessel before it was smothered completely that worries II.

"You've came enough today. You should've listened to me." II admonishes, and III lets out a pitiful whine in response as II pulls out and away.

III whines again, rutting their cock into the bed for any sort of friction.

"You're not allowed to get yourself off either, sweetheart." II states, reaching down and pushing III into the bed with a hand over the sigil on their lower back, holding them there. "I'll know with the bond, so don't even think about trying. And please, do not do as Vessel does and hide it." II tries to keep his tone light at the end, but isn't sure he managed.

III lets out a moan that is a mix of distress and pleasure as II's hand keeps them from moving but also sends lightning up their spine and straight down to their cock, rock hard and aching trapped between their own body and the bed. "Oh, the sigils cause pleasure." II notices, rubbing a gentle thumb over one of the lines that makes up the outer part of the rune.

III moans again, louder this time as they try to move under the hand holding their hips down. "I said no, Three."

"I'm going to have to teach you to have more patience. This is just sad, sweetheart. Color?"

"Green, damn you. This is just mean." III groans, head pillowed on their arms as they pout.

"If you do as I ask, I'll let you cum tomorrow." II says, wiping himself off with a towel he'd gathered just for this, though there wasn't much to wipe away in the first place.

"Can I get you off at least?" III asks, hair splayed out around him as he looks back and up at II, the picture of beauty.

"You don't have to. I went into this with the full intention of neither of us cumming tonight. Unlike you, sweetheart, I have patience."

"So you're into edging, got it." III smirks, "I'll keep that in mind. Never tried it before, until today that is, but it has seemed to give me some kind of rush."

II reaches down and pinches III's cheek, pulling at the flesh until III whines playfully, words coming out a little off, "Owie. Stop that."

"Drink this, pretty. Your voice is a little hoarse." II grabs a water bottle off his nightstand, twisting off the cap and handing it to III.

III winces as they sit up, turning to lean against the headboard, taking small sips. He picks up II's phone to look at the most recent photo, finding his own smirking face staring back at him, but its the markings over their back that catches III's attention. Sleep really gave III some beautiful markings, but they can't help but wonder what is up with all of the question marks?

III looks up just in time to catch sight of it while II slips on his shirt. Resting between II's shoulder blades, below his nape, is a red sigil. Sleep's symbol, a visual representation of II's ability to turn his drumsticks into axes, of his unnatural strength. Parallel to the sigil, on either forearm is the same type of marking on his collarbones, golden filigree wrapped around each bicep like an arm band. III had already known of the arm bands, how could they not, when II had been walking around in tank tops as the weather warms. The sigil though, is a surprise, despite all three vessels having one. It was only a matter of time before their locations became known.

III lifts up II's phone to take a picture of his back, "Hold still, Doll."

II does as asked, turning around with an eyebrow raised in question when III gives him the go ahead to move. III shows II the sigil, and takes the ensuing hum as all the response they're getting.

"Hey, Doll, do you think you could teach me how to top? I'm not experienced in it. I want to make sure I'm treating Vessel right."

"Sure, honey. Its probably best all three of us are there for it. We'll talk about it after tomorrow, okay?"

"Yes, sir, thank you." III nods in agreement, already excited at the prospect of having a threescore.

"You don't need to call me that outside of scenes, Three. I don't require it." II says as he slips his sweatpants back on.

"I don't mind using it sometimes outside of the bedroom." III assures, a little embarassed to admit it, "And I like you calling me a good boy. I wasn't sure I would, since I don't use exclusively male pronouns, but I like it."

"Alright, sweetheart, thank you for telling me. I'll be right back. Do you care what pajamas I grab?" II leans over the bed as best he can to kiss III's cheek, before heading towards the door.

"Oh, you don't have to-" III starts, but II only waves him off, "Fine. Um, just a tank top and shorts is fine."

II leaves, coming back with a tank top as requested, and III's shortest pair of shorts. A blush spreads over III's cheekbones as they slip them on with some difficulty.

"Did you have to grab this pair?" III mutters in light exasperation.

II climbs back into bed with III, plopping himself down onto III's chest as the taller man lets and an 'oof!'

"You walk around with your midriff exposed, sweetheart. Its not so unusual I want to see a bit more thigh than usual, now that I've gotten to see all of you." He smirks, "I love your body."

"I love yours too." III says as he hides their face in II's hair, kissing the crown of his head.

III wraps their arms around II as he listens to III's heartbeat below his ear, content to simply bask in each other presences.

"We need to go buy lube." III pulls away after he deems it enough time after the last conversation had petered out.

"We'll go into town within the next few days. You should rest, Three. You really wore yourself out on Vessel."

"Is that why you went easy on me?" III gripes, pushing their hair back from their face.

"Oh, not at all. I just wanted to watch you squirm." II laughs, reaching up to hold one side of III's face tenderly.

"You're so mean to me." III sulks, leaning into the touch.

"You're a brat." II refutes, big tired eyes soft with affection.

"Should we go see if Vessel wants to join us?"

"No, let's leave him be. He seems pretty concentrated over the bond. Must be working on something. The door is cracked if he wants to join later." II replies, yawning as he snuggles into III's chest.

They fall asleep wrapped in each others arms. They do not wake all night, resting peacefully and exhausted. No movement disturbs them, no silent steps treading over the flooring to climb into bed. Vessel does not join them, instead working on his music well into the morning, deep in thought. The day has given him much to think about.

[tgirlswagseraphina]

twenty five

The past two years i've done long blog posts for new years, and funnily enough it feels like i've got less to say this time. Thats what i often say before saying a lot, so, lets just see where it takes me.

On new years you can look back or forward. What happened this year? What will i do next year? Ill start with forward. Well I have a new drawing tablet, a new city, a place in university for the next 5 years, crap, that was just, on a small scale, looking back. Cuz you gotta look back to look forward, or rather, look present. What are my circumstances right now and how will i carry them forward? Right now, I've got those things to carry forward. A new place in the world, and an open path towards making art without my hands tied.

I've also got me. The best version of it. The me on 1/1/24 was a fucking shambles, but by god she didnt show it. Actually I think i was alright, the devestation didnt come til like week 2 of janurary. Either way, I've learned a lot in a luckily mostly controlled environment as to not hugely screw me over. This year was the benefits of learning from suffering, with the suffering being held at arm's (or modem's) length. Like setting off grenades on the other side of the room to build slow immunity to shrapnel. Except getting lightly exploded a bunch doesnt actually make you better at not getting hurt by them. Which to me is precisely why this metaphor works.

Anyway, whats fucked about me right now? I'm an addict and a procrastinator, and between the two it makes my life feel like it has 10 functional minutes per waking hour. A problem that I'll have to brute force. Not looking forward to having to get better (havent i done enough of that this year???) but i'm most definitley looking forward to the part at the end where i AM better.

What have I improved, now? My life is less one note, more social, I've refined my pallete of artistic interests, I've opened up more to the idea of Doing Things Right, to the level where I can keep my "unique perspective" or whatver when making stuff, while not being averse to efficiency. The best analogy I have is that I've been working on a comic for the past 4 years (wow 4 years wtf) and this whole time been limiting myself to a colour pallette of about 40. But recently I've dropped this limit cause I'm confident my stuff stands out enough that I don't need to put on arbitrary limitations that screw up my chance to make stuff readable, detailed, or fun as i want, in the name of making a "cool style".

Back on that first bit about being more social, and less one note: I feel like I live in the world now. Thats probably the biggest change for me. I'm not in some narrow slice of other peoples worlds and regress to the cave when I'm off-hours. I exist. Thats brilliant.

I am a human body. Take care of it (said to myself).

I can do whatever. I can take up stitching. I can take up photography. I can buy a hat or a dildo or a sandwich. I can draw a fucking red circle round my guitar. I am a human body. And you're all just livin' in it.

Last year I wrote a bunch of dates and how long its been since movies n games came out, which is like, one way to think about new years. 2023 is thirty years after mega man x? But I was reminded of how I spent a lot of new years evening categorising family and friend birth dates, their respective doctor who era, and what the latest episode at the time was (i was born three days after david tennant's 'doomsday' for those interested). It made me think: man. this autism brained media consumption and categorisation is easy to shun. But as long as I do it in conjuction with Humaning and Being Alive, its what I should do. Its what my mind likes and my soul calls to. Sometimes i just wanna watch telly, read wikis, and write brain-spreadsheets about it. It can be analytical and avoiding artistic engagement but screw that. I can artistically engage. I do it all the fucking time. Let my brain make a graph of release dates. Its who I am. That was a fun non sequiter tangent. But if you're me (which I am) you'll know it was pretty important to the whole thing.

Also i found out i was a system this year thats sure somethin huh.

All in all i feel really good about this year's blogpost. Now, I'll read the others, reminisse, look forward, then sleep. And leave the reading of this to all of you. Nighty night fellas, ladies, and the ppl who dont giv a fuck. Peace out.

o-<)/

<3

[theunderestimator-2]

Reading stories of betrayal, despair & friendships going south from “Wally …Did You No Wrong” by Ron Evans:

some of you may -or may not- be familiar with the sad & obscure tale of the lost Sex Pistol, Wally Nightingale, Steve Jones & Paul Cook’s schoolmate who actually put the initial pre-Pistols band together as a trio & provided the classy rehearsal space (“Riverside” studios in Hammersmith, London, where the boys could sneak in since Wally’s dad worked there as an electrician) but got the boot because Malcolm McLaren had decided he didn’t fit the image he had envisioned for the band, being the geeky & uncool kid with the ‘old man’s glasses’. He was completely erased from the Pistols history in a heartbeat, as though he had never existed and the rest is known R’n’R history.

Wally’s story remains a fairytale gone bad, one in which the dishonest get all the glory while the good guy is left with bollocks, and Ron’s book is so rich in first-hand feedback and so well written that sometimes it’s hard not to actually see the narrative played in your head as a scene from a movie that hasn’t been filmed yet. Like the heartbreaking part where Wally’s pals come to his parents’ house, after he was ousted from his own band, to get all the gear that he kept in his bedroom: guitars, acoustics, amps, saxophones, foot controls and harmonicas that had been nicked throughout the band’s lifespan. Wally had been gutted but he managed to keep it all in with dignity (he was such a lovely bloke that he even went for a drink with his ‘former’ bandmates that same night after he got the axe) and when they came with a van to move the gear, he dutifully even helped them to unplug and pack everything up, carefully putting everything in their cases, while his mum and dad silently stood in the hallway, till his mum broke into tears and had to be hurried into the living room while shouting that they owed Wally:

“I could hear her crying as I went back upstairs to say goodbye to Wally. His bedroom door was ajar and I looked through the gap. All I could see was that second-hand Les Pau copy he’d bought in order to start the band sitting on its stand, and Wally sitting on his bed crying”, says his schoolmate Steve Hayes.

Needless to say that the late Wally Nightingale is my all-time favorite R’n’R anti-hero, the most underrated figure in the entire history of punk & the undisputed champion of punk rock underdogs, and Ron Evans, his younger schoolmate/neighbor/friend/bandmate in Key West -the band Wally Nightingale played after the Sex Pistols- has done an excellent job in documenting Wally’s tragic path to self-destruction. You can order the book from his site: https://www.ronevans.rocks/, as well as his cool music, which you can also enjoy on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/1z5w6O0737uoAZutq48mrn

[naturepointstheway]

6? make it an otp or a friendship or something

Anthropomorphic Cats, autistic but verbal Misto, and tiny baby Jemima (not literal baby, but still baby <3). From this photos prompts list I made.

It felt to Mistoffelees like a great honour that Munkustrap trusted him with looking after little Jemima for a while at the traveling circus. When he'd asked Munkustrap if he was really sure he trusted Mistoffelees with his little daughter, he got the warmest smile in return, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way they did that made his heart melt every time. The affectionate hand on Misto's shoulder, with the accompanying little squeeze, stayed warm on his skin for days--it wasn't just Tugger who had that effect on the young man.

And so entrusted to looking after Jemima for a few hours at the circus, Mistoffelees allowed the little girl to lead him where she wanted to go, ping-ponging from the overwhelmingly sweet-smelling cotton candy stand, to the jangling bells of the merry go round with its lurid red, purple, and blue patterns. From there it was on to the bobbing apples, thick knots of sweaty people laughing uproariously or flicking droplets of water at each other's faces, Misto hanging well back from the crowd, his eyes still locked on Jemima all the same.

When Jemima got bored of the apple bobbing, then she took Misto's hand in her sticky one (he really hated the feel of stickiness on his skin, but wasn't about to let go of Jemima's hand for that), and tugged him past couples and gaggles of teenagers toward a painted group of statues--Misto hated the uncanny vibe they gave him, much as he was in awe of how they could stay in one position for so long. Jemima, on the other hand, was asking question after question at him about them: how did they stay still like that? Would birds be fooled on land on their heads? (A sparrow answered that for her by landing on one of the "statues"s' heads). Did they put all that paint on themselves? How long did it take? It must take them a long time! And could he please do the same for her too? (He hated to disappoint her with his no, believing Munkustrap would not be happy with him painting Jemima head to toe to look like one of the living statues.)

After a time of this, probably not more than an hour into their adventures, Mistoffelees' ears rang with the gradually melting soup of clanging bells, people strumming their guitars in hopes of people throwing money at them, screaming babies clearly having had a long day at this point, and teens yelling at the very top of their voices. His nose was starting to feel stuffed up with the overwhelming sweetness of cotton candy and sweet fudges and ice-creams, which happened to intermingle not all that pleasingly with the smell of sweat--clearly, too many people did not understand the concept of deodorant and it showed. The stickiness on his hand was beginning to really bother him, and he wished there was a place where he could quickly wash his hands with soap and water just to get rid of the teeth-setting sensation.

He tried his best to hide this from Jemima, forcing himself to keep up his cheery tone, his smile, his enthusiasm, even as it all was starting to take a toll on him. He didn't want to disappoint Jemima if they left too early--she clearly was more than happy to adventure around here all day long if she could, and he didn't want to let her down.

If I disappoint Jemima, Munkustrap might be disappointed in me.

He didn't want Munkustrap to be disappointed in him--even as some logical part deep in him reasoned that Munkustrap would absolutely understand if he had to peel away from the circus with Jemima even for a little bit. Still, that little what if didn't go away, refusing to be swayed by sensible reason.

"Mistoffelees?"

Mistoffelees quickly smiled down at Jemima at her voice. Big concerned eyes looked up at him.

"Can we sit down?"

"What, you're tired already?"

"No. But my feet want to rest."

"We'll find a seat then."

Almost at the same moment, Misto spotted a couple vacant plastic chairs; however, when he pointed them out, Jemima shook her head.

"I thought you wanted to sit down?"

"Not those--somewhere quieter."

"Suits me."

He wondered if his discomfit was showing more than he thought, despite trying his best to hide it. Jemima had the tendency to keep surprising everyone, including himself, with how astute she was at sensing others' emotional states and feelings. It was almost like she had a sixth sense for that sort of thing, even at such a tender age.

"Look, a bench over there!" Jemima pointed into the distance, where, indeed, there was a vacant wooden bench, painted a deep grass green. "Let's sit there, shall we?"

It was more than good enough a place to sit down, and he allowed Jemima to lead the way, letting go of his hand no sooner had they reached the seat, plopping down on it and patting the seat next to her.

"Sit down with me?"

Misto took his seat next to her, closing his eyes, glad for a reprieve away from the smells, the sights, the noise, and the crowds. His chest already was starting to feel a little less tight, even as he made himself take some deep breaths to try to calm himself further.

"Are you sad?"

His eyes flew open, startled by the sudden question from Jemima, who was, again, staring up at him with those big eyes that clearly came from Demeter's side.

"Am I sad?"

"It's very noisy isn't it?"

"The circus? Just a little bit. It's fine though, really."

"And there's lots and lots and lots of people. Millions."

Misto managed a little chuckle. "I wouldn't say millions. But yeah, that's a big crowd, huh."

Jemima gave him the most serious nod he ever saw from a little girl her age.

"And there's big colours too."

"Big colours? You mean bright?"

"Yeah. Sometimes too bright, like the merry go round's."

"They're bright to grab your attention, the colours are supposed to be very big."

"Yeah."

"When you're ready to go back, just tell me when."

"And that's why you're sad."

"Sad?"

"Tugger says your brain works different. He says when there are a lot of things, your brain sometimes says I don't like all this noise."

"That's...well that's definitely true," Mistoffelees conceded, "And when there are a lot of senses at once, that gets a lot for me too sometimes."

"Yeah. And there's so many smells isn't there? And so many sights and music and yelling and talking."

"It's okay," Mistoffelees tried to assure her, "I can handle it. It's just one more hour till we have to meet up with your mum and dad."

"No it's not okay," Jemima folded her arms, glaring at him the way only little kids could when wanting to make their opinions heard loud and clear. "I don't like you to be sad. So I'm not going back to the circus."

"Really, Jemima--"

"There's a park across the road, it's very quiet and not very smelly. I think you'll be happy again there, and I want you to push me on the swings anyway. And I want to show you that I can swing my way from one side of the monkey bars to the other all by myself!"

That...sounds kinda nice, actually. And way to look out for me like a leader.

He finally managed a sincere little smile, his anxiety now dying down at the thought of hanging out now at the park's playground where there wasn't as much noise and smells and everything else all assailing his senses.

"You know what? You're right, Jemima."

"I knew it! Dad would be proud of me, wouldn't he? For seeing you were sad because your brain doesn't like too much things at once, and wanting to help you feel better too."

Mistoffelees couldn't help ruffle her ears and head fur a little, before wrapping his arm around her shoulders to draw her into a hug.

"And your mother too, she would be proud of you too."

"Can I tell them what I did when we see them again? I want to tell them."

"Of course you can, Jemima."

Jemima leaned her head against his chest, cuddling up against him in the hug, little arms wrapping around him too.

"Okay, I'd like to go to the park now."

"Off we go then," Mistoffelees said, giving her one last squeeze before letting go and standing up. "So long as you let me record how well you do on the monkey bars so I can show your uncle and your mum and dad, promise?"

"Promise! Let's go!"

Jemima again slipped her little hand through his, tugging him along, guiding him to a quieter place away from the smells and noise and lurid colours, and he already felt a whole lot better, his tension now sliding away with each step away from the circus and to the playground.

[aerie-stotle]

What if we saw a bit more of what happened during the war from forces? Like who it affected, and what distant future events can be traced back to it?

Silver the hedgehog is called to Casino Night Zone. Eggman's Army has reached the city, and silver is the closest member of the resistance who stands a chance. He shows up, beats eggman, problem solved, right?

Right. Totally.

Before the war there was a band touring. The best metal band on mobius. We only need to know one name, and that's the bass player. Her name is Bass. Creative, I know. During the war, they initially put a halt on their tour, but then they started again and extended it. The idea was to keep people's spirits up while the world crumbled to dust.

But that fateful evening, they were performing at Casino Night when Eggman and his Army attacked.

Bass was the only surviving member of the band.

She set out to find a way to bring her friends back. She thought "there are so many magical things in this world, at least one must be capable of returning life to the dead." And it wasn't a dumb thought, obviously. The time stones, the chaos emeralds, the phantom ruby, the warp topaz... There are a ton of magical stones. She just had to find the right one. So she researched the known stones that possess magical capabilities... And she found it. A black diamond that could loosely adapt to its users wishes, and the best part is that it took music to harness its power. Actually the best part was that the book she was reading said it was currently on display in a soundproof case in a museum. It even told her which museum.

When she returned to Casino Night with the gem, it had already adapted. It had turned into a green-teal color, like malachite. As she began to play the bassline to her favorite song (The song with four names a.k.a. Labyrinth kind of Love a.k.a. truth overboard a.k.a. water's red and rising), she could feel the diamond's energy reaching out to where he friends rested. She witnessed specks of dust gather into clouds. She watched those clouds condense into piles. She watched as those piles moulded themselves into the shapes of her friends, and finally... there they were.

When she spoke, however, each of them said the same thing at the same time. A wave of terror washed over her. She stepped back. They stepped back. The drummer stumbled on a tree branch, fell backwards, and disintegrated. Bass sat there in shock... or was it fear? Anger? Despair? Her friends remained expressionless.

"No. Those aren't my friends." She thought.

She got up and ran. She didn't look back. After that point, her life took to a downard spiral. The war was over and she remained miserable. She couldn't perform without her band. She couldn't be happy without her friends. She didn't get it, why did everyone else get a happy ending like that blue hedgehog?

Wait. The Hedgehog.

Silver.

It was all Silver's fault

He showed up to the battle. He was meant to be the hero. He made a big entrance, and then he fought Eggman. That's it. He fought Eggman - he PRIORITIZED fighting Eggman over saving her friends' lives. For that, she could never forgive him. For that, she would end his life.

So, with the help of a character who shall remain anonymous thanks to me having no clue who it would be, she enhanced herself to better be able to utilize the diamond. She had a chassis implanted into her chest with the diamond embedded inside. She had her arm - the one that picked the strings on her guitar - replaced by a robotic one, so that the power of the diamond could travel directly into the guitar and be stronger by the time of release.

By the end, she had control over all things dead. It was time to go through with her plan: to cause a future so catastrophic that silver would have to come back and fix it. She began using dead matter create towering abominations which had never lived in the first place and were almost impossible to kill without her power. She set them free to ravage the world.

200 years in the future, Silver wakes up to a ruined city, a dust storm, and a kaiju-sized silhouette on the horizon. Behind him is a portal.

[backseat-negan]

Well, damn… it’s been four years since I posted. I had almost forgotten my love of Jeffrey Dean Morgan/TWD and the amazing community of writers and friends I found here.

Because when addiction takes over, it becomes the only thing your mind will make space for.

Trigger warnings: addiction, drugs, IV drug use, drug abuse, cocaine, overdose, syringes, needles, tracks, track marks

4 years ago - right after my last post - I was diagnosed with a neuromuscular disease called Myasthenia Gravis, or MG. Similar in ways to Multiple Sclerosis and Muscular Dystrophy, MG damages the receptors that allow your muscles to get signals from your nerves. Over time it causes severe muscle weakness and fatigue, and sometimes loss of muscle function entirely.

For me, that meant losing much of the fine motor function in my hands and arms, as well as chronic double vision from the muscles around my eyes being affected. Consequently, I lost my career working as a surgical assistant and I lost my ability to play guitar, which I had been doing for almost 15 years.

MG progresses differently for every person, and mine went from “Start” to “I’m going to take everything you love” in less than five months. For most people, this progression takes years - but mine unexpectedly progressed quite quickly, and that became the catalyst for a very, very dark downward spiral that I still haven’t been able to wrench myself out of almost four years later.

I had dabbled in illicit drugs here and there in the months leading up to my diagnosis, but the day I discovered I could no longer play guitar, I made the worst decision of my life: I picked up a needle for the first time, assuming it would also be my last. I just wanted to escape the sadness for a bit, and I was curious about the effects. But as soon as I pushed that first dose, I knew I was fucked. I immediately wanted more.

It went from 1 or 2 doses a day to 5 or 10, to 20 or 30, until at its peak I was dosing over 100 times a day. Yes, the math is correct - I was injecting every 10-15 minutes, all day, not sleeping for days at a time, not eating for weeks at a time, and not showering for months at a time - simply because I couldn’t stand the sight of the track marks covering my entire body.

In a year and a half, I went from 290 pounds to 170 pounds, simply from not eating. On the rare occasion I would leave the house and see my friends, they would immediately ask, “Dude, when’s the last time you ate anything?” Most of the time it had been so long, I couldn’t give them an honest answer. My mind and body had ceased to even register the sensation of hunger - the only thing it wanted was more C.

I had a few stints in rehab and might string together a few weeks of sobriety, but I always went back to it. I managed to avoid overdose until this year… February 4th, 2024. It put me into repeated seizures and respiratory arrest, they were able to revive me and I was in an induced coma for 4 days.

I wish I could say it was a wake up call, but I went back to it within hours of being discharged from the hospital. I despise withdrawals, and they just keep getting worse the longer I’m on the shit. Then just over a month later - March 20th - I OD’d again. Once again threw me into seizures and I almost stopped breathing, but thankfully this time the paramedics arrived significantly faster and I didn’t die - again.

I can’t remember the last time I showered, because just the thought of having to look down and see all the scabbed, bruised, and heavily scarred track marks on my arms and hands is sickening. I’ve been wearing long sleeves for almost two years straight - even on 90° summer days - and I put makeup/concealer on the back of my hands every day where the scars are the darkest so I don’t get disapproving looks from family, cashiers, and waitresses. I’ve gotten better at eating, and have managed to get back up to 205 pounds. But that’s the only thing that’s gotten better.

No one wakes up and decides to become an addict. It begins with one small seemingly meaningless choice to escape what’s in our head for just a few minutes or hours, but very quickly becomes an all-consuming downward spiral into our own grave. I wish I could go back and show 29 year old me what I’ve become, and take the needle out of her hand. But I can’t take any of this back, and right now, I still haven’t found a way out.

Sorry for the long post, just needed to vent a bit.

[featherghoul]

You good?

Lee!Terzo x Ler!Omega

Warnings/Disclaimers: Comfort angst, strong language, parental issues, empty threats of murder, slight cardiophilia, and Google Translate Italian because I've been too lazy to keep up with Duolingo.

Word count: 1,563

//Author's notes

Holy shit, my first fic on this blog. No idea how well it's gonna do, but fuck it, let's gooooo! A quick thing I want to mention that I think is mandatory: any work of fiction I create centered in this fandom will never be about the people behind these masks, but about the characters they portray. With that being said, I hope this fic is enjoyed by at least one person. Another thing I wanna mention is that I do not proofread for whatever fucking reason—probably laziness— so there's probably mistakes here. Be patient with me. ;;

With a huff and a grumble, swearing and cursing in his native Italian under his breath, Terzo entered Omega's dorm unannounced and flopped belly first onto the ghoul's bed right next to him, who was practicing on his guitar, strumming whatever popped into his head. Omega's pointed ears perked up upon hearing Papa Emeritus the Third enter, though they quickly pinned back when he saw the mortal's disheveled state. "You good?" The ghoul asked as he paused and looked over his shoulder to face his human partner, who gave no response to him, lying limp on the bed, breathing deeply. "Terzo, is everything okay?" He asked again, a bit more insistently as he rubbed Terzo's shoulder.

"Just fucking peachy." Terzo grouched, his voice muffled due to his face being buried into the mattress.

"You don't seem fine." The demon replied as he stood for a moment to put away his guitar, putting it back on its stand so he could give his Papa his full attention. "What's got you heated?"

"Nothing! It's fine!" Terzo grumbled again, his tone more annoyed than the last response.

"Come on, talk to me, babe." He scooted close to the Anti-Pope, rubbing his back, "What's the matter?"

"...Fucking—" Terzo let out a long, loud groan as he flipped over onto his back, removing his mitre to comb a black leather gloved hand through his hair, "I'm so sick of the way I'm fucking treated by Nihil and Sister!"

Omega sighed as he pulled Terzo's head into his lap, running his black claws through his mate's dark hair that had subtle streaks of silver which showed his age, listening to Terzo get his ranting out, his pointed tail twitching as it hung over the edge of the bed.

"They both treat me like I'm some fucking incapable toddler!— Like I have no fucking clue on what I'm doing!" His mismatched eyes glared up at the ceiling as he spoke, his brows furrowed, "For once, I just want them to tell me where I am and where I should go instead of telling me what I'm doing is wrong! I want him for once to tell me I'm doing at least something right!" His eyes began to become a bit glossy. He sighed again, "Omega, you and the others know how hard I try to push this band and The Message forward in the right direction. You know how hard I try to stay on The Path, but it's so fucking difficult when the messages they want me to put out doesn't match what I feel needs to be said… It's so difficult when my best will never be good enough for The Ministry…" He started to choke up a bit.

Omega softly shushed him, caressing the smaller male's cheek with his knuckles. "They're fucking douches."

"Especially my fucking deadbeat of a father." Terzo let out a shaky sigh as he reached his hand up to clasp Omega's, kissing the ghoul's palm.

"He can fuck off. He and Sister both can fuck off. I think you're doing fucking incredible, and fuck them all if they can't see that. You've been doing your best, and it's gonna pay off. Like that Grammy, huh?" He smiled softly at Terzo, but frowned again when the only response given to him was a slight shrug.

"...I want to see them all fucking hang," Terzo growled after a moment, "I want to fucking strangle them…" He balled his hands into fists, though they soon released as Omega gently clasped them in his, kissing the mortal's knuckles. Terzo exhaled once more, "I'm fucking sick of this shit…" He closed his eyes, pulling away one of his hands to rub at his temple.

"Hey, I know exactly what will make you feel better." Omega grinned, his wolf-like fangs showing.

"What?" Terzo mumbled. When he got no reply, he looked up at his partner, noticing the look he was given. "...Oh, fuck you!" Terzo jolted up, glaring at Omega, "No! Fuck that!"

"Come on!" Omega snickered, "You can't deny that it helps!" His tail swayed behind him.

"What about my dignity!?"

"What dignity? You lost it when you started dating me!" The demon laughed softly as he scooted close to Terzo again.

"It's embarrassing!" Terzo argued still, backing away until he was almost falling off the bed.

"So? It's just us. No one else needs to know what we do here." Omega reasoned, his tail thumping a bit against the bed. Terzo was silent for a second or two as he glared at Omega before sighing, his face sweltering beneath his papal face paint. He crawled back over to the large demon, laying across his lap.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you when this is over..." Terzo grumbled.

"No, you won't." Omega snickered as he ruffled Terzo's hair, which made the small mortal huff and attempt to blindly fix his hair. "Ready?" He cracked his knuckles, the sound making Terzo tense. Before the Third Papa could say anything, Omega immediately began gently wiggling his claws into Terzo's sides, making the smaller man jolt and gasp, frantic giggles soon following. "Pfft— W–Wait!! I—Hahah— wasn't ready!!" Terzo brought his gloved hand to his mouth, trying to muffle his laughter and mask his smile.

"Well, if I didn't start now, you would never be ready!" Omega reasoned, pausing to attempt to grab Terzo's wrists. "And don't do that! I wanna see that pretty smile!" He huffed as Terzo tried to fight back, the Anti-Pope slapping at the ghoul's hands.

"F–Fuck you!!" Terzo snickered, letting out a panicked gasp as his wrists were caught and pinned down above him, unable to pull them away. He sank as he gazed fearfully at his partner with smiling eyes, giggling nervously. "...A–Abbi pietà!" His voice cracked, making Omega chuckle.

"Hmmm… No, I don't think I will." The ghoul grinned deviously as he walked the claws of his free hand up and down Terzo's ribs and side. At first, Terzo tried his hardest to hold in his reactions, his face scrunching as he did the best he could to keep himself from cracking, but that did no good as he broke less than four seconds later, Omega grinning triumphantly as Terzo crumbled. 

"There's that pretty sound." The ghoul murmured as the room quickly filled with Terzo's laughter, though it was clear he was still trying to hold back.

"Asshole!!" Terzo barked out through his laughter while he tried to hide his face in the pit of his elbow, not wanting to give his ghoul the satisfaction of seeing him break.

"Oh, don't be like that! You enjoy this!" Omega began to scratch lightly at the mortal's stomach, slipping his large hand beneath Terzo's papal robes to get as close as he could to bare skin. "F–Fuck off!!" Terzo swore again at Omega as his laughter increased in volume, now kicking his legs out as an attempt at coping with how badly it tickled. "No! You need this!" Omega scratched above Terzo's belly button to tease the poor mortal, which had the desired effect of making Terzo more frantic and try to suck in his stomach. "You're obviously stressed the fuck out and that needs to be fixed."

Terzo shook his head as he laughed, snickering as he kept trying to hold back. "It's— Snrk!— It's torture!"

"No, it's not. You're being dramatic. Think of this as a sort of intense massage!" The demon suggested as he scratched just right above one of Terzo's hips, making the human shriek. "N–NO!! NO, NO PLEASE!! NOT THERE!! OMEGA!!!" Terzo began to buck, much to the ghoul's amusement.

"Yes there!" Omega teased in a singsong-y tone, "This is the grand finale! It'll be over soon, babe." Omega's touch grew lighter and slower as he remained at that spot above the mortal's hip. This only made Terzo more hysterical, black tears now running down his cheeks from how hard he had been laughing.

"O–OMEGA, PLEASE!" Terzo squeaked, "I'M DYING!!"

"You seem very alive to me." Omega chuckled as he shook his head at his mate's dramatics, his claw slowly picking up speed and pressure before both of his hands at once attacked Terzo's hip bones, the smaller of the two now screaming with high-pitched and flamboyant laughter, thrashing about in Omega's lap and nearly falling if it wasn't for his boyfriend catching him. Terzo could no longer speak at Omega now, only being able to mouth pleas and curses at the other. Though, after what felt like an eternity, but was really about fifteen seconds, Omega let up, ceasing his attacks to allow the other to breathe and calm back down as he held him, bringing Terzo's head to his chest as he rubbed and patted his back. He chuckled alongside Terzo's leftover giggling, squeezing the other tightly and protectively.

"You good?" Omega smiled softly at Terzo, who nodded and tilted his head up to face him, his makeup smudged and his face stretched with a wide smile. "...Y–Yeah… Huff… I'm fine… Puff…" Terzo responded as he still gasped for breath. Omega gently massaged Terzo's scalp as the small mortal pressed his ear to Omega's chest, listening to the ghoul's heartbeat to help him calm down.

"... I'll get your ass later for this…" Terzo groaned, still embarrassed, which earned him a chuckle from the large demon.

"I'd like to see you try."