#steel blue flower girl dress

[shotmrmiller]

simon's many things. a retired fighter, for one. he hung his mma gloves a few of years ago with the excuse of getting older. he still sticks around, though— sitting in the front, so close to the hexagonal cage that his knees can touch the steel, occasionally gesturing price over to hand him a crinkled wad of cash.

gambling's illegal, you know.

thought you were a medic not a cop, pet.

a veterinarian.

good thing we're all dogs here, then.

he's also a bit unhinged, or so price says. you had pressed your tongue against the back of your teeth to keep from asking him if the hits simon's taken to the side of the head knocked a few things loose or if he was simply born that way. you'd be thoroughly unsurprised by the latter.

seen 'em take a man out with one ferocious hit— dislocated his jaw and retired him all in one second— all over cigarettes.

what, did they guy like steal them or something?

no. the prize for the winner of their fight was that pack of smokes.

incredible. (that's insane.)

he's also unrepentantly forward and a bit of a pervert, to boot. no explanation is needed.

lemme take ya out, love—

don't call me that.

and wear a pretty dress with heels. bet you'd look real good in—

stop talking, simon.

and now, you're about to find out that he's also, apparently, magnanimous.

a friday night's hustle and bustle has come and gone, as has the crowd that was in there earlier to watch a fight. the air smells of cheap alcohol and even cheaper cologne. the lighting inside is dim, casting a dull, almost sickly glow over wooden stands and the bloodied arena. the floor, once dry concrete, was now mud-slicked; drinks, urine, and spilled blood staining the surface. betting slips stick to your sneakers as you walk. (trudge, more like.)

with your worn medical supply bag around your shoulder, you tiredly head towards price's office whose metal door is being held open by an old barstool, and gently rap your knuckles on the frame. "i'm leaving, john."

he looks up at you, soft blue eyes crinkling over his glasses as he smiles. "sounds good, love. see ya later. want me to walk you out?"

always the gentleman. "no, i'm alright. i'm sure simon's out there waiting for me any—"

the metal entrance door slams open then, causing you to jump at the startling noise. you whip your head around and a resigned groan escapes your lips. it's simon and he's got bruised company. very bruised.

there's never any rest for the wicked.

"who's that?" john calls from behind you. "he lost?"

the guy whose arm is slung around simon's shoulders looks relatively young. thick, straight eyebrows, a swollen broken nose, and thin blood-crusted lips. the last time you saw a mohawk on someone, it'd been in the early 00s.

"somewhat but it's a good thing i found 'em," simon grunts. his eyes flash over to you. "can ya patch him up f'me, love? i'll go on tha' date you've been beggin' me for."

you ignore simon as you approach them both and tip the guy's head up with your fingers under his chin. searching in your front pocket, you tell him to look at you. "open your eyes as best you can, alright?"

his eyes are like sparkling blue gems— bright like the sky on a clear summer's day. he winces at the blinding white light emitting from the flashlight. "tha' necessary, lass? ah'm not seein' double, if tha's what ye lookin' fer."

he gives a pained grunt before simon tells him to stand still. "my girl here's the medic and what she says goes. clear?"

"crystal, sir." purple bruises are blooming like dark flowers around his left eye and right cheekbone, and the blood that oozed from his split lip long coagulated. his nose, however, continues to languidly drip crimson.

"not the worst break i've seen," you mutter.

the pair shuffle behind you quietly as you head toward the dedicated medical room. the sharp, clinical scent of antiseptic wafts through the air as the door swings open.

"sit, please," you gesture to the well-worn chair in the corner.

black latex gloves squeak in protest as you slide them on. "wanna tell me what's going on, simon? i'm not gonna fix the nose of a wanted murderer, am i?"

simon chuckles under his breath. "no. unlucky bloke chose to mug the wrong person. johnny here is real good at fightin', though, for someone with no real proper trainin'. figured i could give him a way to earn his money instead of stealin' it off of hard-workin' folk."

you hum and press your thumbs as gently as you can where the nasal fracture is. johnny hisses sharply and grips your wrist tightly. "easy. i barely touched it." you quickly tap the back of his hand with your knuckles. "let go, please. last thing i need is you tensing and breaking my arm."

he slackens his fingers and sits on both of his hands. "sorry, lass. ah'd never hurt a bonnie lass like ye. say, how'd ye even end up in the bowels of the city?"

his talking re-opened the cut on his upper lip, blood streaking his teeth pink. "i'm a charity case, just like you, i reckon."

johnny means to continue the conversation, but you take advantage of his distracted mind and push to the left, the sickening crunch of cartilage follows the adjustment. he curls in on himself and lets out a guttural noise that bounces off the white walls. "i'd be sorry but..." you trail off with a casual shrug.

pulling a clean rag from a basket nearby, you order johnny to sit up straight. "look up for me." he leans his head back, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "hold this there," he squeezes his eyes shut when you firmly press the rag under his nose, "you'll stop bleeding soon enough."

you swivel on your stool, turning your attention to simon who's been silently watching you work by the door. "any injuries on you?"

he pulls his balaclava up, revealing a blonde stubble and scarred lips. "i got an injury right," he points at his mouth, "here tha' you can kiss—"

"stop talking, simon."

johnny's laughter emerges from behind the crimson-stained cloth.

--

this is the first time you've ever seen simon in the ring.

simon, even while 'retired', fights with a viciousness that borders on primal. his snarl— a ravenous wolf's— bare crooked teeth that hunger for victory, for dominance.

even when he's merely teaching johnny how to survive in this subterranean battleground.

"there's no room for mercy, soap!" he bellows. his eyes are sharp as blades, holding an edge of madness. he charges forward with fists like sledgehammers, delivering blow after punishing blow; johnny's body paying the price for his mistakes.

pain is the currency in that pit of despair, laswell had once said.

simon is a beast in human skin, ferocity incarnate...and you don't remember the last time you were this aroused by such a brute display. if this is what he looks like now, after years of being the spectator and not the spectacle, you can only imagine him in the zenith of his strength, his power.

heat licks up your cheeks at the mere thought.

he looks like he was born and bred to fight. his crib must've been the stained mat he's dancing on, his lullabies the sound of fists making contact, forcing flesh to yield. his broad back bears the weight of history— jagged flesh that stretches taut with each swing.

"fight smart! rules dissolve once tha' bell tolls, mate. many come here for glory, others come for an escape but some--" simon ducks the undisciplined punch johnny throws and gives him a ruthless jab to the ribs once then another to the side of his cut jaw.

johnny falls like a tree that's been cut at the trunk, the sound his body makes on impact with the canvas echoing in the empty basement. his breathing comes in ragged bursts, sweat and trickles of blood mingling on his face. simon kneels next to him, grunting as he goes down. "some are only here for their next meal and those are the most dangerous."

he is in his element, all bruised flesh and bloodied nose.

oh no. johnny's nose is bleeding too. "simon!" his head snaps to you when you scream, eyes wide and unfettered. "i just fixed his nose, you dolt!" his expression softens then— furrowed brows and taut lips relax.

"he'll be alrigh'. even my nose whistles when i breathe," he remarks.

simpleton. nothing but fighting and gambling in that big head of his. "that doesn't mean that it's okay to break bones i mended a few days ago." you keep your eyes fixed on johnny, ignoring the way the heat that's radiating from simon's sweat-slick body seeps into your chilled skin. "why he call you soap, anyway? good at cleaning dishes?"

he slurs a little, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. "'cuz ah'm a shlippery bashtard."

you bite on your tongue, hoping that his slurring is because he's still mildly dazed from the punch and not something worse.

"wha' about me, love? i've got a beaten face too, y'know." you look at him then, narrowing your eyes as you take his bare face in. the bridge of his nose is pretty swollen, and you can see the onset of bruising already happening. it's also freely dribbling blood.

"shit, let me go get my medbag."

he hooks his fingers around the loops of your jeans, keeping you in place. "'fraid of a little blood, are ya? i think you'd look real good with me on you."

a jolt of arousal shoots up your spine unbidden, blooming desire, focus wavering. your breath catches and pupils dilate as they lock with his rich, brown ones.

"oi, get a room, aye?" johnny's hoarse voice snaps you back to the present, your thunderous heartbeat ebbing away like a tide from shore.

"whenever you want, sweetheart," simon purred. the lump lodged in your throat makes it hard to respond. "get the bag 'fore i bleed out. price will have my head if i drop dead on his mat."

you blink and scramble away on shaky legs and weak knees.

[sphireath-wisp]

Can I make a Blue Lock request With Headcanons? With the boys, Reo Mikage, Michael Kaiser, Rin Itoshi (with a female reader who is a k-pop idol (she's in a girl group, I love them ❤️🎀) And they are coming out, + all individual)

The theme of the female Reader's group can be whatever you want, although I would like its concept to be something school-like or cute in the style of TWICE or OH MY GIRL, (You can write them as adults or teenagers, as you wish)

Fluff 💕

#사탕처럼 달콤하다는데~

Sypnosis: I'm not too sure exactly what you mean by 'they're coming out', but I'll be writing general headcanons + soft/hard launching your relationship with them to the public.

Warnings: Not proofread, the reader has to conform to idol standards, the reader is described as feminine (girl-crush/girl-next-door concept), All aged-up

Featuring: Reo Mikage, Michael Kaiser, Rin Itoshi x F! Idol! Reader (in that specific order)

With one hand, you hug a large bouquet of pink roses to your chest. There's a silk, velvety ribbon that ties the bundle of flowers together and it's so big compared to your face. Well, the giddy smile on your face may rival it. Yet, that's not even the biggest feature of your post. No one could miss the deep violet of REO MIKAGE'S hair in the frame of your mirror. Your other arm is hooked around his neck with your phone in your hands, the purple phone charm hanging off of it - it's no coincidence that the colour of the charm matches his hair. He has his back facing the mirror and his hands rest on your hips to support you up onto the couch. Even though no one could see his face, it was clear to everyone who he was to you. yn-archives 'mom approved <3'

"aint no way she snatched up the HEIR OF THE FUCKING MIKAGE CORPERATION??" "my girl yn had standards that reach the heavens" "their chemistry must be insane"

I just KNOW he's so whipped for you, both in public and private

Definitely attends your concerts with Nagi and Chigiri (he drags them along for good measure)

Before your (lowkey hard) launch, people just assumed he was there to enjoy himself and was a fan of your music - not that he was literally YOUR MAN

Not a big fan of the girl-crush concept, but he supports it because it's you!! (I'm telling you, this guy likes his woman mature... probably whipped for the mature concepts though)

I'm telling you, the signs were OBVIOUS before yall even posted this

"@yn-archives your biggest fan <3" ok Reo Mikage, #1 fanboy...

"@officialmikage-reo good game!! (idk what was going on, but I'm you're #1 cheerleader)" just say yall are in love at this point...

Yall act like you're SO SLICK when he stares at you in the crowd of people and effortlessly finds you, when you always somehow get front-row seats reserved for VIPs, when you purposefully find out his seat number in the crowd to interact with that section of the crowd...

Always pays even when you remind him that you're literally on of the top idols out there (like you're thriving, but he still insists on paying anyway)

When a reporter asked the members of Manshine City their opinions on you, Chigiri had to shut Reo up because he swore that "he was growing ears and a wagging tail, like a dog". Nagi took over and said you were nice. It went something like...

Reporter: "What do you think about the idol (Name)?"

Reo: "Oh! I'm so glad you asked, she's-"

Chigiri: "nice!"

Reo: "and she's!-"

Nagi: "good at singing."

Nagi's not on social media much, so once, he accidentally mentioned that you were with Reo after your soft launch post and went, "Oh, forget I said that." "we know already." "oh ok, they're cheesy."

When MICHAEL KAISER posts updates, it's usually about training for his upcoming game or sometimes the new luxury watch he bought spontaneously. This time, however, fans are bewildered, to say the least. It's a single photo - one taken at a low angle. He has a woman on his lap, the mermaid trail of her steel blue dress drapes down to the floor and covers one of his dress shoes. The dramatic slit on the flowy dress is pulled up to your thigh by Kaiser's hand, preventing it from falling and revealing what's meant for his eyes only. His other hand, meanwhile, is on her shoulder. That smug, signature grin is plastered on his face, but the upper half is cut off in the photo. The mystery girl faces Kaiser, at an angle where you could only see the pearl earrings that tie the whole outfit together. "Post it," that's what he told you that night when you were showing him the pictures you took in front of the full-body mirror at the lobby, all with his hands nestled comfortably in his pockets and a casual smirk. He would laugh as you mentioned the chaos it would cause and all of the hassle that comes afterwards, "so what? Just do it, Meine Liebe." and look what happened when you decided to listen. kai.serimp 'got a lot on my hands'

"this is wild" "who tf is yn and why are so many people talking about her" "emperor x empress"

I think he's the type that prefers being indoors for dates, especially since both of you are famous figures (The risk of being spotted in public and the hassle it would bring is something he does not want to deal with, especially when all he wants is to have some time with his girl)

Movie nights, dinner dates at home, baking together, reading dates, he's all for it

He'll buy you something special every now and then, but I think he's more of a 'gestures' person than giving gifts

He'd attend your bigger concerts, but I don't think he would attend every single one since he doesn't expect you to attend every single game he plays - you both have your own lives and you both are busy people 🤷‍♀️

Forget about reporters asking whether he's dating someone, this guy looks like a womanizer

The moment you both confirm it on camera that you're dating, he becomes the MOST dramatic kisser, holds your lower back and waist while leaning forward so you have to wrap your arms around his neck to prevent yourself from falling - like we get it, you're proud (He does it once or twice on camera then stops unless you ask)

I think he'd prefer to keep most of his love life private, but he's cool with posting your anniversaries, birthdays, etc.

Kaiser probably isn't a big fan of the girl-crush concept as the relationship marinates, especially if the whole 'cutesy' act isn't you (lowkey thinks it's funny people still buy your whole 'aegyo' act and probably jokes about off-stage when it's just the two of you, I guess it's good that not many know you like he does)

Lowkey... I bet he compares how much yall make on each gig (definitely gets a free ego boost if he makes more than you)

I think the gameshow idols have to go to would be a good source of entertainment for Kaiser, 100% enjoys seeing you win in the strangest of games

"That's my girl," or something of the sort

It's a simple photo, really. You didn't mean to start such an outrage with a Polaroid. It was a picture of you and RIN ITOSHI in a photo booth. You can still remember what happened that day. 3... and he had one hand cupping your face, thumb and index digging into the plump flesh of your cheeks. You were puzzled, to say the least, but your instincts kicked in and you flashed a bright smile to the camera. 2... craning your neck up, you could see what seemed to be a semblance of a smile from your peripheral vision. He leaned down slowly as you babbled on about how "the photo's gonna be taken!' and "Rin, not now!"... despite all the times he told you not to shout out his name in public. 1! You could barely make a straight face and you internally thanked all of the lessons your manager would make you attend to instil that 'effortlessly photogenic' face you put on the moment the camera flashes. Yet, even with all your training, the blurry photo can't mask the heart in your eyes and the red in your cheeks. And the photo gets printed out. "Wanna post it?" You grin at him and he shrugs at you - 'I don't care', or something along those lines. You grab your lipstick, applying a fresh coat before pressing a kiss onto the polaroid - to half-heartedly cover his face. yn-archives 'dear diary, i met a boy."

"MISS YN???" "did I just lose my chance to a soccer boy" "soccer boy? mf that's RIN ITOSHI"

You all kept it under wraps quite well!! No major signs

He's neutral about the girl-crush concept - thinks it's cute though. If you both met when yall were younger and still in school, I think he'd be especially fond of it

Now that the secret's out: when reporters ask, he'd sigh, look at you in the crowd for a split second/look at his phone if you're at home, then say yes blankly.

It's not that he's embarrassed by you or anything, but he's tired of the question and you'd probably be bombarded with the same treatment, "aren't you all here for the game/show?"

You know how idols live-stream sometimes? Once you all didn't need to hide your relationship, Rin would accidentally walk in to you live-streaming because - out of all the places you could have chosen - you decided to record in HIS APARTMENT.

"Do you wanna watch a-" sees camera, face drops even more, "ok," and he slams the door

That was the last time you streamed at his house

He'd like 'lazy day' dates too, definitely a fan of staying at home and just melting in each other's presence

Despite saying that he didn't care whether you posted him or not, he doesn't exactly enjoy the newfound attention on your relationship - it irked him for a bit, but he got over it

He's definitely an aftercare kinda guy, disciplined and sticks to his routine almost religiously - he doesn't outright say it, but he likes it when you join him to stretch or cool down. It's a moment of peace for him and being with his favourite person only leaves a sweeter taste on his tongue

He'd be amused if your group did a Japanese cover or a Japanese song (like Twice's doughtnut, etc.), he'd be a big fan of that

If your group decides to try their hand at mature concepts, oooo boy, you're in for a ride... "you're allowed to do that on camera? what the fuck?" (I think he'd be more accepting of it if he pretended it was just for his eyes)

Taglist: @dewwberry, @mikmwehehe

[lethalchiralium]

prizefighter.

Hand covered in blood, the other held a butcher’s knife - Simon kept a straight face as it came down, chopping the chicken breast in half. The brunt of the winter had long faded, the flower pot near the register blooming with every breath of spring air. His coworker, Al, bustled in the back as the meat delivery had arrived ten minutes ago and he refused any help, telling Simon to man the counter. He could hear the older man grunt and groan as he hauled the large carcasses in, Simon only shook his head in annoyance - he could’ve had his cigarette break by now, looking at the mess of bones and broken teeth in the alleyway. His bored stare could be felt from miles away and he placed the now two pieced chicken breast onto the weight.

Five ounces, just as decent as it was going to get nowadays. He mindlessly grabbed a sheet of paper, placed the meat on it, and wrapped it quickly. The only issue now was the twine - the fingers on his right hand hadn’t worked too well since he broke his hand during the war in the European Theater. He let his knife rest on the wooden countertop, brown eyes gazing down and examining his scarred hand - littered with white lines, divots, and notches. Just a little squeeze and he could feel the cold steel of a pipe, the pipe that an enemy soldier swung down, cracking and crushing his knuckles with a sickening crunch–

Ding!

It was a reflex, his response. With his back to the shop door, he loudly called out, “Welcome to Manchester Butcher-”

Bump, bump, bump!

He turned but saw no one in the sunlit lobby. There were only three chairs squeezed against the wall, a table with a singular magazine, all framed in the box that the cream wallpaper made. Maybe the bell went off on its own? He glanced at the door, where the bronze bell was still slowly swaying. His shoulders relaxed before he looked down to the glass case, and noticed a little girl with curly pigtails and a yellow dress. The frown on his face turned to a smile and a light chuckle as she giggled, stomping her feet and hitting her little hands on the case. “Dada!’

“Hello, princess. Where’s your mummy?” Simon reached for a clean towel, wiping his hands off as the bell rang again, he looked up and his smile grew wider. In came his eldest in her green dress, her hands clung to his wife’s own baby blue dress as the stroller was pushed in, out of the cool breeze. “Girls! What’re you doin’ here? This is a nice surprise.”

The baby was in her pram, he was instantly around the counter and kissing his wife, you, on the cheek, peering under the black canopy to his dozing infant. “We were just running errands, and the girls were crying about how much they were missing you today. I figured, why not stop in and say hello before we head home. Isn’t that right, girls?”

His toddler was quick to grab his pant leg, she squealed, “Dada, up!”

“Not right now, Mel. Daddy’s dirty.” He gazed down at his daughter as she clung to her mother, then his eyes darted up at you. His hand ached as his other hand held his dirty towel, he tried not to let you notice the pain. “What’s her deal?”

You glanced down to your eldest, Winnie, your hand curled around her chestnut ringlets before you looked back at him. “Nothing. She knocked a display over at the grocery store. She was embarrassed, and the grocer yelled at her.”

His back straightened a little, warm ichor-like anger ignited deep in his chest. “He yelled at her?”

Your hand gently brushed over the crown of Winnie’s head, she only moved closer to you as if to melt into your dress. “Yeah, and shoved her a little. Said she was in the way. I already had it out with him, Simon.”

“He shoved her? The one up the street?”

Winnie’s face turned down, and Simon was quick to kneel in front of her - all while ignoring his now clearly angry toddler. “Winnie, did Jim push you?” The girl’s face then looked away, buried in the blue floral print of her mother’s dress. He yearned to stretch his hand out, to cup her cheek and tell her that it was going to be alright now. But his hands were covered in chicken blood, and the feeling of being beaten over and over again still simmered beneath them like hot tar. “Sweetheart, just answer me. You’re not in trouble. It was an accident, yeah?”

Her brown eyes peered around the fabric to him, it damn near broke his heart to see the tears that welled in her eyes as she looked at him. She glanced up to her mother, hesitating, before nodding. His chest began to roar with red hot rage as he looked up at you.

“Simon, it just happened. He reacted. It’s not a big deal.”

“What do you mean, ‘not a big deal’? He bloody touched her. My daughter is upset. It’s a very big deal.” He didn’t ignore the tears in his daughter’s eyes as they felt like daggers into his chest. “Let’s go, pet.” He held out his towel wrapped left hand and Winnie didn’t hesitate to take it, he stood again, nodding as his coworker and almost instantly darted out of the butcher shop and ignored your sharp demand to leave it alone - Winnie barely struggling to keep up in her scuffed Mary Janes.

He moved through the people walking through the street, his right hand twitching with pain as he clenched his jaw. They passed three shops, his eyes trained on the green canopy with people bustling in and out of the door beneath it. Hunched a little to keep a grip on his daughter, he threw open the front door, leading her in first and beside the door before peering down at her face, “Stay right here, look at the floor.” Winnie nodded, little pearls of tears running down her rosy cheeks and that made Simon’s roaring anger sound like a train horn in his ear.

Weaving around red wicker displays and lines of patrons, he does his best to suppress his anger from the war, since it was his motivation to keep going. To fight, to win - he’s killed men from sunrise to sunset, from the coast of Normandy to Okinawa, all because it was him or them. Him or them. Him or them. It felt… overwhelming, the urge to protect more than just him, now that he was home again. He had sworn off fighting since Winnie was born six years ago, but it didn’t matter now, not anymore. This bumbling idiot could have hurt his darling girl and he would have never known if you hadn’t told him, so like any good guard dog, he showed his ichor stained teeth and claws with his bloodied apron in hand.

The blond haired grocer spotted him instantly, his back straightened as Simon struggled through the line of customers, backing away from the till with a loud, “Simon-”

“You touched my daughter?”

“I’m…sorry, but she knocked all of my apples to the floor. What was I–”

And after the first punch that sent the grocer flying to the ground, Simon’s right hand no longer trembled. “She’s six.” He knelt then, leaning over him. “Bet you wouldn’t’ve done a thing if I’d been here, would ya?”

Another punch sent his head crashing backwards into the tile, wailing, “Bloody christ, I’m sorry!” His lip was split, nose starting to become a few shades darker. He almost screeched in terror when Simon grabbed him by his collar with his right hand. The damn grocer should’ve known by now that Simon is not the man to lend mercy, and now, not even in front of his daughter, as he destroyed the promise he made six years ago.

“Get up.” He stood, effortlessly lifting the man and dragging him through the now parted line of customers, straight to his darling girl; she was rubbing her eye with the back of her hand, keeping her gaze on her shoes, swaying from side to side softly. Simon raised the man a little, so he could look at Winnie as she sniffled towards the tiled floor. “Apologize.”

The man’s head bobbed a little, Simon jolted him and he winced then looked at her, “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

“Better.” Without any grace, he unceremoniously tossed the man back on the ground, snarling, “And clear my wife’s tab.”

He didn’t even give the man the time to address him as he held out his wrapped hand for his daughter near her small field of vision, she took it after her eyes welled with tears due to his bloodied knuckles. He snatched a sweet from the shelf nearby, ushering her towards the door.

The grocer groaned out, “Y-Yeah, sure thing, Simon. Sure.”

The spring air felt like knives on his now split knuckle, walking her back to the butcher shop with a firm grip on her hand. He looked at the sweet he took, a Drumstick lolly. He huffed out a humorless chuckle before handing it to Winnie. “Here.”

She looked from the concrete up to him, her dress swishing with every step before quietly saying, “That’s stealing. That’s wrong.”

“Sweetheart, he owed you a candy for bein’ a right cunt. Take it.” She took it instantly, whispering her timid “Thank you.” before becoming silent again. The walk was longer than before, the adrenaline settling as quickly as it came. Simon could see you through the window of the butcher shop, gently rocking the small pram as the toddler’s hands and cheek were pressed against the cool glass. She began to squeal as she recognized them, pigtails and yellow dress bouncing with every step, Simon opened the door and led Winnie in like always. Have to teach manners young.

You cleared your throat, sitting on the only nice chair in the lobby. Simon shrugged and answered your cue. “Got it handled.” Your eyebrow raised, your eyes slowly blinked as your head tilted a bit to the side - some fraction of exasperation flowed from your glare into his chest. He chuckled to himself mentally, can always count on my wife to draw things out of me. “And the tab.”

“What did you do?”

A smug smirk tugged at his lips, Winnie let go of his hand to go run to her little sister and mother. “I defended my daughter.” He gazed at his little girls, Winnie showing the toddler the treat she had and the little one’s face grew a curious look. “Alright, I need to get back to work.”

Those were always the magic words for his toddler, as she instantly tumbled her way towards him, with a screeching, “Up!”

“Later, Mellie. Daddy’ll be home soon.”

“Say goodbye to him, girls.”

Your hand settled on his forearm, electricity ran through his body again. There would never be a time where he wouldn’t feel desperate for your touch, your voice, your presence. He gazed down at you, his smirk turned into a kiss to your cheek. He couldn’t see the pipe in his head now, his hand only trembled because such a creature was holding onto him - even if he knew he would be in trouble when he arrived home later that night.

“I’ll see you at home, sweethear’.”

[lizzy-bonnet]

I love Jane Austen's work and I love podcasts, so naturally I follow several JA podcasts (please drop recs in the tags). I'm enjoying Live from Pemberley from Hot and Bothered, but a comment from literally the first episode of the series has been circulating in my brain since I listened to it several months ago: one of the hosts expressed surprise (and disappointment?) in the fact that when we first meet Lizzy, she is "employed in trimming a hat". This comment literally comes right after a conversation about how Austen tells us so much in the very short space of Chapter 1; without wasting any words, we know exactly who Mr. and Mrs. Bennet are (lightly toxic relationship), understand their family situation (need to marry well), meet the main driver of the first act (rich man in the neighbourhood), and understand a social dilemma (girls can't meet him if Mr. Bennet does not make the first overture). So what is Austen telling us when we meet Lizzy in the employment of trimming a hat?

We so often read a sort of modern girlboss feminism into Lizzy because she is smart and stands up for herself, but I think that's something that really gets embroidered on to the text. Lizzy trimming a bonnet is telling us several things about her:

She is frugal - new hats and bonnets are really expensive (my casual hobby is shopping for reproduction bonnets and this remains true), because the straw is braided by hand, the bonnet shape is assembled and blocked by hand, feathers have to be gathered from real (living or dead) birds, ribbons and flowers are hand-finished, the whole situation is fuck expensive. Lizzy is most likely putting new trim on a straw or wool bonnet she already owns to make it work better for this season's fashions, or a new dress, and possibly recycling trimmings from other hats. Contrast this with Lydia's spending all her pocket money on an ugly hat in Chapter 39, just so she can reduce it to parts, even though she acknowledges she'll also have to buy some extra satin too, to finish the project.

She cares about fashion - we don't get a lot of information on sartorial choices in Austen's work, and when characters are discussing fashion, it tends to be a framework for explaining something about their characters; Miss Steele's need to know how much Marianne's dresses cost (rude, crass); Mrs. Bennet's loving description of the lace on Mrs. Hurst's gown (shallow); Catherine Moreland's agonizing over what to wear to the Assembly (young, a bit flighty); Bingley wears a blue coat (has probably read The Sorrows of Young Werther, is fashionable). The fact that Lizzy is trimming a hat tells us she is fashionable, but paired with the fact that she will get a petticoat muddy in order to see her sister, and does not spend a lot of time worrying after fashion like Lydia tells us that she does not live and die on fashion.

She is creative - I've trimmed various hats and bonnets over my years of interest in historical fashion and honestly it's not easy. It's quite fiddly to get a nice ribbon edge, a ruched lining takes forever, and getting sprays of florals and feathers to be nicely shaped and all in a complementary palette is quite fussy. Getting a nice looking bonnet requires some thinking and planning. But it's also great fun! The Regency era is, in my opinion, a particularly good period for hats.

She is normal - I think Austen wants the reader to understand that Lizzy is a young woman with normal cares and concerns. She doesn't have cash for a new bonnet, she wants to look nice, she knows how to put an outfit together, she's not frivolous like her sisters, and she engages in the typical pursuits of someone who is not yet one and twenty who does not have a specific occupation.

A lot of modern readers are expecting Lizzy to be striding around the countryside unconcerned with "girly" things, or reading a clever book because we have come to think of her as proto-feminist in a way that suggests she might be a bra (corset) burner, but I think that comes from an outdated feminist lens that still wants to tell us that girly things are bad, or at least, a bit weak, and I don't see that in the text at all (I think some of this trickles over from the adaptations). Lizzy walks enthusiastically, she enjoys reading (but not to the exclusion of other employments), she dances very well and plays with mediocrity, she cares deeply about her friends and family, she has excellent manners, and dammit, she trims hats.

[theeccentricraven]

The 9th Day of Writemas ☃️🔔🎶

Thanks again to @agirlandherquill for this brilliant tag game/writing prompt/writing challenge! Writemas as made my December brighter😇 For anyone who wants to know the rules or wants to join, the invitation post explains it all!

For the Day 9 prompt I chose a ballroom. I needed to do this one because luck would have it, Draft 1 of The Blood Cleaners has a ballroom scene! I needed to rewrite it because it was way too short. I got my creative juices going and made this!

Justin followed Clarice’s instructions and found the ballroom on the tenth floor. The room was twice as spacious as the ballrooms of the tunnels, decorated with glitter wallpaper and stone columns (courtesy of the limestone quarries) carved with reliefs of flowers and insects. The room was full of teenage boys wearing suits like their fathers and girls dressed in silk dresses. Justin supposed they saw him as an oddball there in his cerulean and black Steel blood cleaner uniform. He also sensed Clarice didn’t care with the way she held his hands and took him as her partner when the youth paired up.  The two dance teachers were a tall, slender woman with sparkly green eyes and a taller, slimmer man with dark eyes and a black ponytail. The woman, Cheryl, wore a black rayon dress while the man, Edward, wore a black leotard. “And now,” Cheryl announced. “A dance from before the Last War, known as the tango.”  The instructors demonstrated how the male stepped forward while the female stepped back. Justin held Clarice’s left hand high, his right hand on her back, her right hand on his back. The ceiling stereos played accordion music. Justin took two slow steps forward. Clarice stepped back parallel to his steps. He took a quick step forward. She took a quick step back. He stared into her blue eyes. She stared back at him, her face turning pink. They turned another angle, swinging 180 degrees. Justin took two slow steps forward. Clarice, took two slow steps backward, wobbling her head as her cheeks turned red. “You’re doing okay,” Justin assured her. “Your moves…you’ve got the moves!” “Oh, I’m not worried about that,” Clarice said brightly. “You’re the one who’s sweating.” “Get out of here, I’m not!” Clarice snickered. They took a quick step, a slow step, and turned another angle. “Hey, Clar!” said one suited young man as he and his partner swung nearby.  “Hey, Brad!” Clarice said. “Is he a friend of yours?” Justin asked. Clarice nodded. The color left her face.  They repeated the steps, going two steps forward, a quick step, a slow step, and then turning another angle. “If you don’t mind my asking,” Justin whispered. “Why couldn’t you ask one of your friends to be your partner?” Clarice looked around as if to check that no one was close enough to listen. “There weren’t enough boys and well…none of their parents would have allowed it.” “Wait, none of the boys would have danced with you because their parents didn’t allow it?” “You said it.” “Really? Why?” Clarice pressed her palm tighter against Justin’s back. “Because our parents make us go to these mandatory dance lessons partly as a courtship opportunity. Meet our future spouses.” She tightened her lips. “I don’t follow,” said Justin.  Clarice shook her head. “Their parents would never let me be a potential future wife.” Justin widened his eyes. “Wait, so they don’t let you talk with your friends. They don’t let you dance with boys. All because you struggle to read?” She coughed. “All because I can’t read, as they would say.” As if the Fists didn’t suck enough, this was how they treated their children.  “Your parents are pendejos.” Clarice beamed. “I wish I could say that. They’d let you get away with it because you're a blood cleaner.” “I’m not as lucky, but…when you aren’t doing something like this, don’t you get to hang out with your friends?” “Oh, yeah. We spend what time we can together when our parents can’t catch us. Those moments are so rare, we need to find just the right moment when they’re distracted for a few hours.” “So you have your friends,” Justin hoped to assure her. “Your support group. And they must care for you more than your parents.” Clarice shrugged. “I still worry I’m not good enough for them.” Justin snorted. “Not good enough?” Her blue eyes, scarlet lipstick coated lips, and rosy cheeks tantalized him. “I mean, how can a guy say no to a beautiful girl like you?” Clarice’s face lit up just as she missed taking a step back. Justin’s foot stepped into hers. She fell back as he fell forward.  “Ow!” The ballroom erupted in laughter. 

Tagging writer mutuals ⛄🤶🧝👼🕯️🌟🍒🦌🛷💚🤍❤️🎄❄️🎅

@sunflowerrosy @furrywrit3r @wyked-ao3 @selenekallanwriter @drchenquill

@revenantlore @whatwewrotepodcast @jay-avian @constellationandcompendium @olivescales3

@ryns-ramblings @primroseprime2019 @illarian-rambling @kaylinalexanderbooks @kitty-is-writing

@kitkins13 @buffythevampirelover @willtheweaver @poethill @acmartin

@apolline-lucy @elizaellwrites @gioiaalbanoart @orphanheirs @pluppsauthor

@cowboybrunch @leahnardo-da-veggie @dandelion-jester @aalinaaaaaa @faeriecinna

@brynwrites @somethingclevermahogony @rickie-the-storyteller @raevenlywrites @winterandwords

@happypup-kitcat24 @the-golden-comet @ddgraywrites @autism-purgatory @mxxnwishes

@tildeathiwillwrite @screamingatanemptyroom @kbwritesstuff @spookyceph @pluto-murphy-writes

@talesofsorrowandofruin @kaylark @sleepywriter00 @americanfemcel @fairy-tales-of-yesterday

@inkednotebook @the-letterbox-archives @laureleavess @simonnebethel @forthesanityofsome

@melpomene-grey @creatrackers @stephtuckerauthor @ad-wills @theink-stainedfolk

@g0ttest0d @infinnative @little-peril-stories @lyneidas @late-to-the-fandom

and OPEN

[adarkrainbow]

Fairytales of France: The Little Horned Men

Henry Carnoy, in his collection of oral tales and stories from the Picardie region, wrote a section called "The Small Horned Men" or "The Little Horned Men".

Once upon a time, there was a species of tiny men that some called Dwarves and others called the Little Horned Men. They always had one foot in height, a very long beard and very long hair. They lived under the earth, into the rocks, beneath the mountains, wore red-clothes of outdated fashion, and were armed with steel swords and silver spears. While they looked somehow like men, they were not of humankind - for it was said they would only die when the world came to an end and no other living being is around, and when they'll die "they shall not resurrect for the Judgement Day". Their main feature, however, are their horns - they all have two pretty small horns on their forehead, like those of a young ram, and it doesn't make them ugly or unpleasant in any way.

These Dwarves are not evil: in fact they often help those they meet. Whenever a little boy or a little girl is lost in the woods and encounters them, they will take pity on their tears and lead them back to their home. The only way to make a Small Horned Man angry enough that their face will turn blue is to say "Coua! Coua! Coua!", which is a cry similar to the one of geese - they hate these birds, which try to beat them and bite them every time they see them. However, to please a Little Horned Man, you just have to say "Ric, rac! Ric, rac! Gai! Gai! C'est aujourd'hui la paix!" (Ric, rac! Ric, rac! Gay! Gay! Peace is today!). But nobody can tell you why this sentence makes them happy...

"Back when grandma was still a little girl, and grandpa still wore a dress" [a reference to how little boys use to wear dresses and robes before getting their "boy pants" as they grow up], the Small Horned Men showed up to humans from time to time: they went to the fair, to the markets, to buy red cloth, thread and needles. Sometimes, when it was a feast ay, they secretely danced in the garden of the school-teacher, or at private gathering organized by fiddle-players. Today, they are only heard about at rare occassions... Are they too shy and shameful to appear to humans? Or are they angry at them? Nobody knows...

Do they eat and drink, these Small Horned Men? Yes they do. They have their own harvest, but it does not rely on the seasonal cycle we humans follow. They perform their harvest not from month to month - but during one night of the year. The 24th of June, "la nuit de la Saint-Jean", Saint John's Night, aka Midsummer Night. As humans make huge bonfires and dance around it while singing, the Little Horned Men prepare themselves for their yearly harvest: their wheat and their grapevines grow to full maturity from the setting of the sun to midnight, and so from midnight to the sunrise the dwarves must quickly do their harvest, to get their grain and their grapes. It is an especially hard work since Midsummer night is the smallest night of the year - so these little horned men worked "with sweat and blood", harder than any slave, all while singing "Toutes les herbettes / Qui sont dans les champs / Fleurissent et grainent / La nuit de Saint-Jean". "All the small herbs / That are in the fields / Make flowers an grains / On Saint John's night".

And when the sun rises, their work is not done yet, for one hour is left - one hour during which they will carry their yellow gold coins to the sun, shaking it by the first rays of the morning. This gold is usually preciously kept within the rocks where they live, but if this yellow gold doesn't see the light of the sun at least once in the year, it will turn red and start rotting, in which case the Little Horned Men throw it away as if it was trash.

All these precious informations came from the tale of one Jean Noirot (Blackish John), who was the blacksmith of a given village. He was a man who had so many children, boys and girls, that in the village people said "John the Black has more kids than a sieve has holes!". It was a lot of mouthes to feed, a lot of bodies to dress, a lot of people to take care of - and one day, "Misery came knocking at the blacksmith's door". No more bread, no more wine... What to do? Jean Noirot thought that he could go start hunting rabbit by the neighboring forest at night, to sell the beasts at the market.

So each night, after a hard day of working at his smithery, Blackish John went to the forest to capture the rabbits. And he was a very talented rabbit-hunter, who knew how to use well all sorts of hunting tactics, and who could spot a rabbit even by the blackest, moonless, starless night. Every year he caught around a thousand rabbits that his wife and daughters sold at the neighboring cities and villages. This brought back wine and bread into his house.

One night, on the eve of Midsummer, as his children came back from the village's bonfire, Jean Noirot decided to go hunt a few rabbits in the forest, hoping to offer them to a land-owner they rented a field from, and who had to be paid by the following day. He took his rifle and went into the woods, promising to go back home as fast as he could.

It was a fresh night, as a cold wind blew from the North. The moon shone bright in the sky and there were many stars to see. As the blacksmith came by the Roches-aux-Fées (The Fairy Stones), he decided to stop here to hunt the rabbits. He hid between two blocks of granite, but as he waited for the rabbits, he heard a voice insulting "lazy people" and telling them to get ready for midnight... And he heard the song "Toutes les herbettes/Qui sont dans les champs/Fleurissent et grainent/La nuit de Saint-Jean". He stayed there, not moving, no making a sound, and saw the Little Horned Men preparing themselves for their yearly harvest, led by a whip-armed master who kept telling them to work harder and faster, while the others kept singing their song. He saw an uncountable amount of Little Men go out of the rocks and holes in the ground, with their scythe, their blades, their baskets and their rakes.

As all the Dwarves went away, the master of the Little Men saw the blacksmith. He carefully looked at him and offered him some money if he agreed to help the Dwarves do their work, for he looked "as strong as a hundred of my men". Jean asked what type of job he would be paid for, but the other answered "Wait one hour, when my men return I shall tell it to you". One hour later, the Little Horned Men returned with their baskets and carts filled with wheat, hay, oats, maize, grapes, apples, pears, abricots, nuts and fruits of all sorts. They also brought back with them cattle, but the strangest one: there were black cows and red bulls as small as tiny dogs, and there were rams and sheep no taller than squirrels. And Jean Noirot was taked with helping them gather around all of these plants, fruits, harvest, cattle - all of this food inside the dwarves' domain, so that all would be gathered and stocked for the year. He helped them work, between the whip of the master and the song of the workers, until the sun rose and all of the Dwarf-harvest was under the ground.

The master of the Dwarves offered him the promised money, and offered him more if he agreed to help them in their second task. Jean agreed, and the Dwarves got out of their underground home with enormous and numerous bags of shining, yellow gold coins. The master whipped them and insulted them, as he did before, so that they would get out of the gold, shake it under the sunrays, warning them to not let any gold get red or rot. Jean Noirot helped them empty the bags so they could "shake the gold" by the sunrise, and once it was done the Dwarves quickly brought it back underground. After one hour, the master offered Jean Noirot the promised money, but he promptly complained about how the "laziness" of his men caused them to lose three quintals of gold coins - "Now our pretty gold is red and rotten. Quick, lazy bones, throw these bags out of the earth or they will stink up the place!". And so the Dwarves threw away the bags containing the three quintals of gold, and then they disappeared with their master in the holes of the ground and in the heart of the rocks.

Jean Noirot was not a foolish man, and so he took the bags for himself. He buried them secretly, only taking a handful of the red gold coins. He promptly returned home: his wife was surprised to see had had caught no rabbit, but his man answered him "I've got no time to explain, I got something far better, I must go to the city!". There he went to sell his red gold and returned with his earned money, to immediately have something to eat and drink. His wife still was confused about what was going on, by her husband told him to wait still. The three following nights, he got out to the forest, and each night he brought back one of the bags containing a quintal of red gold. And then he told his family of his adventures in the woods.

Jean Noirot and his family became very rich, so wealthy they left the village and lived in the great city of the country. Jean Noirot bought a small forest all for himself, alongside several farms, a water-mill, and a beautiful castle. The farms and the mill were offered to his children, while he stayed within his castle, still going into the forest each day to hunt hares and rabbits.

The end.

[thezombieprostitute]

Always the Bridesmaid - Part 2

Summary: after years of always being the bridesmaid, your sister's wedding suddenly nets you the interest of two incredibly handsome, charming men.

A/N: Just a reminder that Nick Fowler won the poll from Part 1 so we'll have to turn down Jonathan Pine. Reader is older (35+ years).

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: Smut, smut and more smut.

Part 1

From the moment your alarm goes off you're up and running to get ready. The morning is such a rush to prepare you have no time to think of anything other than helping your sister and making sure you look presentable. You're secretly grateful she only chose a color for the bridesmaid dresses, letting you find a cut that complimented your figure.

You were especially grateful for that when you caught Nick biting his lower lip as he looked you over before the ceremony.

“You’re saving me a dance, right,” he whispers in your ear. You giggle as you confirm and he smiles wide, “thank you. I can imagine your dance card will be full tonight. Glad I reserved a spot so early.” Heat rushes to your face but you can’t stop smiling at his words. 

The ceremony was a delightful affair. The only problem was when the flower girl got too shy to walk down the aisle with everyone looking at her. Thankfully your mother was more than happy to help her and the ring bearer walk, hand in hand. It actually seemed to make everything all the sweeter. You really look forward to seeing those photos. 

Your sister and her new husband were given some time to themselves before the reception while everyone got set up with food and drink. Again Nick was a gentleman who held out your chair for you and gave you his undivided attention when he could. The Bride and Groom deservedly pulled his attention from time to time.

You were a little nervous about having to dance in front of everyone but Nick helped by distracting you from the crowd, focusing on him. His steel blue eyes, his comforting smile, the muscles you could feel under his sleeves, the ease with which he led you in the dance moves. He paid attention to you when you talked and didn’t push when you said you needed to sit for a minute. He really was something else.

As he leaves to get you a refill you see Jonathan approach. He looks pensive as you greet him but he does smile a bit as he kisses the back of your hand.

“I’m afraid I will not be able to follow through on my request for a dance,” he apologizes. “I’ve only just now found a few minutes with which to tell you and must immediately be back to work.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he smiles. “Please do enjoy yourself and let the staff know if there’s anything you require.”

He heads out and as you turn back to your plate you see Nick glaring after him. 

“Are you okay, Nick?”

“Was that guy bothering you?”

“Not at all,” you chuckle. “I’d promised him a dance yesterday and he was telling me he wouldn’t be able to partake.”

“His loss,” he smirks as he sits, handing you your drink.

“Well, that does leave me open for all of my dancing to be with you. If you want to keep dancing with me, that is. I’ve definitely noticed some of the other ladies giving you looks.”

“Yeah, but none of them hold a candle to you.”

“Nick, you barely know me.”

“I know that you’re smart, pretty and nice,” he starts. “I know that you’re pleasant company and I’d love to get to know you better, if you’ll let me.”

The rest of the night is spent alternating between dancing and talking. You’ve never had such a wonderful time at a wedding before. 

You’re still not sure how you and Nick ended up in your hotel room but with how he was kissing you and squeezing your tits with his strong hands, you didn’t care. 

He unzips your dress and helps you slide out of it, giving an appreciative moan at the sight of you in just your underwear. 

“Your turn,” you tell him. “I wanna see those muscles that I've been feeling all night.”

He smirks and removes his jacket and shirt. You marvel at his chiseled abs and let your hands roam over them as you return to kissing him. You move your hand lower, underneath the hem of his pants and groans as you start to palm his erection. 

“Please tell me you have a condom,” you ask.

“Absolutely,” he confirms. “Now lay down and let me have a taste.” 

He gently pushes you towards the bed until you're laying down, legs spread. He kisses down your front, removing your panties, before kneeling and taking an appreciative look at how wet you already are. Part of you feels embarrassed at being bare in front of a man you met just yesterday but the hungry look he gives you fuels your desire and overrides all other emotions. 

He starts on your thighs, alternating kisses and bites before he finally brings his mouth where you need it. His tongue moves slowly as he laps up your juices and you let out a low moan. 

“Please, Nick. Want more,” you whine as you wiggle your hips, trying to push his face where you really want him. 

“Not gonna happen,” he rasps. “I want to take my time.”

When he resumes his slow pace you sit up as much as you can, eyes flashing. You grab the back of his head and push his face into your pussy and start grinding your hips against him. 

He doesn't try to stop you and, in fact, seems to acquiesce to your demand. But there's a look in his eyes that makes you wonder. Or it would if his tongue wasn't expertly pushing you to the brink. Suddenly he stops and starts pulling away but you wrap your legs around his head, trapping his mouth where you need it. 

He keeps his lips sealed and uses his incredibly strong arms to unwrap your legs. You whine in protest but he nips your thigh, changing your tone. He looks at you with those steely blue eyes, his face and tone serious. “I said I wanted to take my time, beautiful. I was going to let you come as many times as you wanted. But after that, you're only going to come when I let you.”

You huff in protest and he chuckles, “maybe if you'd been a good girl, I'd let you sit on my face and drown me. But you had to push. Now you'll have to beg me to let you come.” He moves so that he’s hovering over you and whispers, “what’s your safe word?” You tell him and he nods understanding before moving himself back to your pussy.

Over the next hour Nick continually edges you. You initially try pushing him into making you come but he’s too strong. You start whining, pleading, begging for him to let you come. You’re a complete mess but he keeps eating you out like you’re the most delicious meal he’s ever had and he’s eager to savor every taste. Every time he pulls away, making you whine, he smirks. Occasionally checking in with you as well, making sure you’re actually okay.

The final time he pulls away he removes the rest of his clothing. “I think you’ve made it up to me, beautiful. You still have to wait for me to give you permission, but you’re going to come with my dick inside you.” 

“Thank you,” you gasp. You watch him put on the condom and you worry you’re not going to be able to wait for permission. 

He crawls over and hovers over you, kissing you deeply, lovingly, as he starts to push into you. He finds a balance between rough and gentle that has you reeling. You don’t hold back on begging him to let you come already. He watches you as he moves his hand between your bodies to start rubbing your overly sensitive clit. It feels like an eternity before he finally orders, “come for me.”

You let go and are hit with an overwhelming wave of pleasure as Nick continues to thrust into you. You can’t remember the last time you came so hard and you end up chanting his name like a prayer. It’s only when your orgasm starts ebbing that Nick allows himself to chase after his own release. 

After some gentle kisses along your jawline Nick switches into aftercare mode, seeing to your every want and need. Worshiping you as he cleans you up and holds you. Letting you fall asleep in his arms. He watches you as you sleep, thinking about how he hopes you’ll be open to this being more than just a one-and-done. 

Tagging @alicedopey and @rayofdawnworld for inspiring this little story. Tagging @icefrozendeadlyqueen because I promised I would!

[akwolfgrl]

My head is full of flowers, and my body full of steel pt 3

When Rouge walked into the small living room the next morning, Ace toddling behind her, she noticed a delightful scent of something sweet and of fresh bread. The pink haired little girl was sitting on the floor reading a book upside down. She was flipping through the pages as if she were actually reading the words. Ace toddled over to sit next to her. He loved it when she read out loud to him, so it wasn't much of a surprise when he hit the book with his tiny hands.

“Book!” Ace demanded of the little girl.

Rouge tuned out the story the little girl started to tell Ace and watched the other three, the fourth nowhere to be found. They crawled around pretty well for what she guessed was between five and seven months old. The one with a streak of red in his blond hair seemed to be the leader as the other two with a blue streak and green streak seemed to be following him around as they explored their new environment.

Rouge turned her attention to the women in her dress, it was too long on her but too small in other places. She was stirring something on the stove, the last child strapped to her back, his blonde hair matching the womens perfectly. All of the children had curly eyebrows, it was odd.

“Good morning,” Rouge greeted the women in her kitchen and took a seat at the small table.

“Oh good morning, I hope you don't mind your neighbor dropped off some bread and I made tartine and chocolat chaud, it's not much but I did make homemade blackberry jam you had bush in your backyard full of them,”

“Your fine, my name is Rouge,” She couldn't believe they forgot to do introductions last night.

“Sora, then there is Reiju, Ichiji, Niji, Sanji and Yonji,” Sora pointed her children out after she placed down a long piece of bread smothered in butter and dark purple jam, a bowl of rich chocolate with a large dollop of cream in front of her and another one on the other side of the table. “Reiju breakfast,”

“Yes maman,” Rouge looked over at the little girl as she closed the book, Ace followed her into the kitchen.

She picked Ace up and sat him on her lap, there was only two chairs and a small table. She placed him on her lap. After a few wiggles and escape attempts, he settled down. She gave him a bite of the bread and jam before taking a bite herself.

“Mmm this is wonderful! You made this?” Rouge asked in amazement. She had never had a better tasting jam in her life.

“Yes I did thank you.” Rouge watches as Sora takes a seat with Reiju in her lap. “I enjoy cooking, I had hoped at one point to open an inn when I was younger and a lot more naive.”

“I understand. Life has a way of ruining your plans.” Rouge had a small hope that she and Roger could settle down somewhere and raise Ace together. He had been terminally ill, so he turned himself over to protect his crew. Now, she was in hiding to protect her son. “Sora, I understand. I don't know what you're running from, but I recognize that look in your face from the one in my mirror. I fear that, unlike myself, you don't have help. You don't have to give me your answer now but if you'll let me I'd like to help.”

[mahiiimahiiii]

A/n: Hi folks! This is from my late night writing folder- I wanted an excuse to write nobility durgetash. May I present:

Our Lady Of Debauchery...(and other things)

(Durgetash)| DUrge x Lord Enver Gortash | named durge

Our music choice:

+*+

Tyrants palace, known to the locals as a den of debauchery was filled. Carriages of all colors and sizes flocked to the grand staircase, each holding its precious cargo- nobles.

The tyrants right hand wasn't used to this.

Wynne, child of bhaal sat on a dressing room chair attended too excitable human staff attempting to style her recently washed and un-pressed hair.

As a drow, her hair had two settings- unruly and wildly beautiful curls, or silky and pin straight hair (often times recently pressed with a steel comb). She held back tears as they continued to pull her hair into an updo, lining it with pins and sweeping her bangs into waves. She looked like the ads of women she so envied as a child, whatever that was to a drow. They set curls next to her eyes spinning her around to apply makeup... It would've been simpler to using a transforming scroll at this point

Her study as she liked to call it was colored a deep green, the walls embelised with a golden flower pattern, and dark wood paneling. Instead of a bed it held a shelved nook coated in lavender sheets and pillows. A hearth and a lavish blue rug lay to the other side of the bed with a dark wood desk with matching chair, a large plus armchair sat next to the hearth and sat at her vanity, decorated with bottles of cremes and combs.

The girls whispered about the guests, a young elven magistrate with long silver hair was found out to be a bachelor, he gave lord gortash a run for his money. Orin would be making appearance was well as another famous lord from across ferun, sent an invite for the temptations he would bring. She only had one plan and one target, the next in lead for the flaming fist. The dread fours mole has been chosen, a lord named Ravenguard.

This would be the first step in their plan, it should and it must go well.

The dress fit over her shoulders and was pulled down, corset pulled taught by two other women. This was abnormal, she felt uncomfortable in all the layers. .

She had forgone the heels deciding that a nice pair of embroidered flats should suffice.

She must admit this dress was lovely, and she would be it's first tester. The sage green complemented her soft brown skin and silky silver hair, pink florals decorated the base and hems, a delicate embroidery.

Gortash had chosen this dress for her, as often the lording would prefer for the future lady gortash to be at least fashionably adept.

She would just prefer to wear a button down and loose slacks

She sighed clipping in her singular pearl earring, a heavy teardrop shape, another gift from her lover. She made the final adjustments, dusting rouge onto her nose and oiled charcoal onto her lids, her eyes darkened by the deep colors. The assassin sighed with contempt taking a final look in the mirror. She looked decent enough to perhaps pass as a noble.

Wynne cleaned her hands off, the trail of the dress lagging behind. "Is master gortash ready? Our appearance is within ten to twenty minutes."

"He's been ready ma'am, waiting for you in the parlor for a bit now"

She chuffed, lifting up the train of her gown greatly disturbed by the lack of movement. How she hated this, Enver Gortash will never hear the end of this. He was no lord to her, simply an officer of the law seeking out the greater ideal of grand design, something she sought out for purpose. It was lucky- when she suggested to her long time lover about it. It was even luckier when the szarr family had allowed her to use the Library without incident. Or it could be the blessings her father continually blessed her with as the more successful child.

And now, one little dance, one small appearance, one night of suffering- and then it will be back to pants.

"Enver? Darling? Are you ready?"

She called out.

A confirming hum sounded from down the hall, his eyes lit up when he saw her. their warm and rich depths drinking her in . His hair was slicked back, this was not a good look for him.

"You look gorgeous! My beautiful huntress..." He cupped her chin kissing the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. "You look delicious...ugh, what a shame we have an event to attend." His eyes glittered.

"I hate this." She frowned "I hate your hair that way. I hate heels, I hate dresses, I hate people, I want to go lay under my blanket and have a large glass of wine and dwarf meat pies."

"Come now, don't be a downer. Does your blade not hunger for a cull? You'll be getting a sweet bloody treat later on- I'll let you keep the flesh."

She paused, thoughtful. "I do like flesh....."

"That's the spirit darling. Come now, we should be announced soon." He shook out his hair, no longer slicked back but slightly long and unruly. She liked it that way- as wild as his dark eyes.

From the parlor the manor house changed, dark flooring to beautiful creme tile, matching creme walls and chestnut panneling. Gold, and blue accents and paintings of nymphs and sleepy goats lined the walls.

One portrait was new, a woman with brown skin, deep burgundy eyes with a sad expression, her lips held a solum pout. Her hair was silvery blue, almost ethereal- she wore a simple blue dress and held items of selune.

"My heart- is that portrait new?" she admired the details as they passed. They walked arm in arm one of his hand petting her hand attached.

"It is indeed" he rumbled "I asked for your likeness- is it to your expectations?"

"Do I always look that sad then." She tilted her head, attempting to force a smile. Her lips found it hard to mold around.

He shrugged "I suppose, perhaps that's what the artist saw in your face. Asked them to use the portrait you gave me."

"ha! My father's portrait of me hm? I do look sad in that photo, mainly because I was hungry ."

"Perhaps we shall take more photos. Maybe we will capture your beautiful smile-" he plants a gentle kiss on her lips, his stubble gently scratching against her smooth skin.

They exhaled, contented, and anticipated the rush of noise following their announcement

"Enver, I am never doing this again. "

"I don't expect you too my darling"

The doors opened up and their names were announced

*Lady Wynne, paladin of selune and Lord Gortash of Wyrmere*

She shifted, uncomfortable at the attention. "I would much rather a discreet entrance but if this is the... Tradition. I shall do it."

She waved to the eyes and turned her way a cheesed smile plastered on her face.

"Think of it as any other scenario where I ask you to blend, remember you can be out of the dress after the first dance. Then our goal is to take out the target." He hummed, one hand on her waist. "Now because we are hosting this gala we must sit at the head of the table.

"Ugh just say I'm sick for that- Ill with the plague or some shit."

"Of course my darling." He helped her down the grand staircase, wary of her footing in the dress. She managed to look like she was floating down the stairs, she had an impression to make, this was her first noble circle appearance after all

The hall was loud, filled with a symphony voices each as distinct as a snowflake. Temples and churches sent their representatives, a contented looking, tall teifling escorted you to your seats. Her smile bright and her hands warm. Karlach her name was. One of Gortash's best.

Karlach was it? Beautiful creature she was. Would be a joy to see her innards.

Unfortunately within the realms of polite company such actions or thoughts are shamed.

Wynne smiled and introduced herself to the swarming hive of chatter, hands shook, flesh on flesh. Her ears rang with sound much louder than before: string instruments.

A dance had begun a good sign to keep her eyes peeled. A slight ping from her earring sent her catching Envers eye, he nodded toward the floor, before stopped by a shorter man dressed in a brilliant green frock.

They shook hands and fondly discussed things like old friends. The tyrant waved her over a tired "hold-it-together" smile on his face.

"Here's the lady of the hour!" He hummed taking her hand "lady Wynne, this is ... Lord? Astarion"

"Please - it's just Astarion, Astarion Anuncinn. At you and the lord's service." He paused "I am.. unfamiliar with the custom of meeting drow - is there a specific greeting?"

Her ears wiggled in odd excitement, "while I find it imensly charmed that you would ask, a handshake is fine. Our culture is no different than the norm."

The magistrate paused for a second, his eyes were gentle and thoughtful. "I'm sorry I hadn't meant to offend you" curls framed his face, silvery like spider silk, or a fine Iron. His milky white face bloomed with a faint pink in his cheeks, beautiful streaks of watercolor. How he'd make a pretty corpse.

"I can assure you none was taken. Now, astarion was it? What do you do for work?"

She hadn't expected to become this social. Hadn't expected someone charming such as the magistrate. His voice sung of an un-quenchable desire for something. Knowledge? Hunger? Power? Men and their secrets.

"hm? Me?" His hand was gloved "my lady, we have been hardly introduced- and you're already prying! How naughty." He took her hand and kissed her knuckles delicately. "Charmed. would you like to go somewhere quiet to discuss then?"

"Oh no!" She hummed "I'd like to leave period."

He raised his brow, something sparkling in his eye. "why does a sweet treat like you want to leave? I'm sure you'd be the belle of the ball"

"That's the point- I do not like the attention." His hand covered hers in a comforting way, his hands were cool, a low thrumming pulse emminating from them, though not sure from whom it was.

He hummed slowly, almost quizzical. His long lashes lowered and looking through them, "then why are you here."

She had never expected a question so personal. "I suppose.. it is my duty ultimately, as is every noble. Though I do not consider myself amongst their *ilk*"

He adjusted his ruffle collar "neither do I, I appear for my father often. He's less inclined to show up to parties like this." He paused for a moment "would you like to dance? Or perhaps we can find another quiet area to experience each other's company... Completely."

She hummed rocking back on her heels. "I am unsure how these parties work. Would you be willing to teach me?"

His smile was wide, cupids lip pulled taught and ready to fire. "I would quite like too."

*Don't get too carried away love. Remember to have a job to do*

He held out his hand, the smile not quite reaching his eyes. Wynne gingerly set her hand in his.

A string quartet played a slow and alluring rhythm as he spun her about. Careful and mindful of her feet- soft padded heels clicking against the floor

Perhaps this was the last time in her life she would have fun. Perhaps she should savor it.

Who knew.

[madd-devil]

Forget-Me-Not

Author note: Hope you guys will like this new story! :3 This will have a second part as well

Summary: As a member of Hook's pirate crew, you have to obey your captain. Even if he plans on using the new found crush of a blond haired lost one on you in order to get secrets...

How have you gotten yourself in this situation? 

Freshly debarked on Neverland, you had been wandering on the shore as the crew was doing activities you were forbidden to. You didn’t mind: you didn’t enjoy cleaning the whole ship and hanging out with them. Being the only girl on the ship was… interesting in a way. You had been saved from the streets by the fearsome pirate captain Hook when you had tried to steal from him: he seemed to have admired your wits and your audacity but you knew you lived on a razor’s edge. The pirates didn’t hide their harsh feelings toward you and you had to look behind your shoulder most of the time. Good thing you were authorized to sleep in the same room as Hook. 

 So, you had been walking on the shore when you decided to explore the woods next to it. It was a bad idea, you knew that, but you were a curious girl: adventure was calling and you would respond to that call. At least, you had a gun with you and a sword that you knew how to use. It took you some time to master the art of fighting but you knew you had to learn it in order to survive. Walking in the woods, you came across some strange looking flowers. Kneeling down, you were mesmerized by how they looked and smelled: like a rose and lilac combined, with beautiful pastel colours. You unconsciously reached for them when someone roughly pushed you to the side. 

“What’s wrong with you Jonas?! You know those flowers are-” The person spoke furiously and quickly before they marked a pause as you stood, brandishing your gun to them. “You’re not Jonas.” 

“Do I look like a man?” You growled, making sure your gun was ready to fire. 

“I don’t know, you tell me.” The person laughed as they raised their arms but they clearly were armed. “You can lower the gun, missy.” 

It was a boy or a man, at least, he was stuck between those ages. He looked young but old at the same time, wearing different coats and clothes of dark colors and what strikes you most was the scar on his face, he definitely stood out from the crowd. His eyes were grey or steel blue, it was hard to see but they sparkled with some kind of curiosity when he looked at you, as if he hadn’t seen a woman for ages. 

“You’re not from Neverland, how did you come here?” He asked as he tilted his head, his eyes looking you up and down. He seemed to analyze you and you didn’t like that. 

“I won’t tell you.” 

“Judging by how you are behaving yourself, I would say you are from Hook’s crew.” Your face decomposed when he said that, and he chuckled when he realized he was right. “Also, you dress like a pirate. I didn’t know Hook accepted girls.” 

“It’s temporary- why am I even talking to you?” You mumbled under your breath but didn’t hide the gun away. You still didn’t know if you could trust him, he looked like a threat. 

“Can you put the gun away? I won’t harm you, lost boy’s promise.” 

“What’s a lost boy?” You had heard Hook talking about it in a hushed tone with Smee once but they stopped when you walked in. You decided to trust whoever that boy was and put the gun back to its holster. 

“Hook didn’t tell you?” He sounded surprised as he approached you but stopped when you kept your distance with him. He then smiled. “Maybe I should introduce myself: Felix.” He gave you his hand to shake that you reluctantly took. You still didn’t trust him fully. 

“(Y/N). I didn’t know people lived here.” You continued as you looked around, your eyes fixating on the strange looking flowers you still wished to touch. 

“The lost boys do, which I am part of. It’s strange that the captain didn’t mention that to you, are you certain he cares about you that much? I mean, if I was him, I wouldn’t let you wander in those parts on your own…” 

“I can handle myself, thank you very much!” You turned and decided to leave, this boy infuriated you. As you walked back to the shore, you heard him laughing and running after you, so you made sure to walk faster. 

What was wrong with him? Why was he following you? You sighed, very exasperated and stopped when the ship was in your line of sight. While you disliked the boy, he didn’t seem to wish harm upon you and you would hate yourself if the pirates caught him talking to you. Usually the pirates would intervene when you spoke to someone, woman or man, child or old. They just didn’t want you to spill some secrets. 

“It’s better if you stop following me, or they will throw you in a cell.” You warned Felix who just laughed again. “What’s funny, shitface?” 

“You could do better with your insults, you know? And, I was send to speak to the captain anyway, with fucking Jonas who disappears all the time.” He seemed pretty angry about his friend who didn’t show up but you let him walk you back to the Jolly Roger. 

As you stepped closer, you heard the familiar chatting of the crew which stopped when you climbed aboard with the lost boy. The atmosphere became tense instantly and you froze when you saw the crew approaching you with weapons, probably to fight Felix. Was it strange you wanted to stay at his side to protect him if anything happened? 

Hook suddenly appeared, parting through the men, and he stepped furiously toward you. You gulped nervously, your body shaking a little. He knew you were afraid and frightened by him and what he could do. His piercing eyes went to Felix then to you, you made sure to avoid his judgemental gaze as he walked closer. The lost boy was not reacting, instead, he was watching.

“I told you to not go into the woods and you disobeyed me. Then, you bring that thing aboard.” The captain scolded as he pointed to your odd companion. “You know what will happen if you disobey me.” 

“I-I didn’t mean to!” You whimpered, knowing damn well what Hook meant. 

“I am here because of Pan. He sent me to you.” Felix chimed in, and you glanced at him. He had a smug expression on his face, unafraid of being alone amongst men who clearly wished to kill him. “I just happened to save your little soldier from a rosekiller. You should warn her about the dangers of Neverland, Hook.” 

“Oh shut up. (Y/N), room, now.” The captain grasped your arm and yanked you into the direction of his quarters. You scrambled to get there as fast as possible, not enjoying humiliation in front of the crew. 

Some hours had passed since that accident. You wondered if Felix was still alive, but you had heard no sounds of battle and killings. Laying on your bed, you played with your dagger, twirling it. The night had come, you didn’t have any dinner. Usually you would eat with the captain but maybe he wanted to punish you as well? It was not your fault if Felix came on the ship. If anything, he should punish Felix if it was possible. 

The door swung open, startling you. The dagger fell on the bed and you quickly hid it under your pillows. You observed the captain as he strode in with the cook, who put several cooking pots on the wooden table. One thing that was good when you shared a room with a pirate captain was the food. When you were with the crew, the common men, you didn’t have a choice and ate whatever the cook did, which was stew or soup. Hook enjoyed grand and exquisite meals so your belly was often full. But, when you misbehaved, the pirate would not allow you at the table and you had to suffer watching him eat. 

When the cook left, Hook beckoned you over. You strutted over and sat next to him as he filled your place generously. You thanked him and waited until he had started to eat to do the same. Even if Hook was a pirate, he seemed to enjoy the etiquette as he called it. He had taught you about it, like which cutlery to use when you ate a salad. Once, you chose to cut the salad and he stabbed your hand with his fork. Now, you had a scar to tell the silly story. 

Hook was unusually silent, but it was not the silent treatment he gave you when you messed up. You also realised he was looking at you from time to time, which made you uneasy. Wondering what you had done wrong, you decided to be on your best behavior and to apply this whatever etiquette the pirate liked so much. When you finished your plate, you realised he was still staring at you. 

“Did I do something wrong?” You asked slowly, eying his reaction. 

“No. Tell me, is it true Felix saved you from the rosekiller?” He didn’t waste any moments to ask this question. You nodded, indicating it was the truth. The pirate captain hummed and leant back into his comfortable seat. You looked at him again, wondering what he was thinking about. “Interesting…” 

“I didn’t mean to bring Felix back, he just followed me.” 

“I know, I know. See, I know how Felix is, and he is not some sweet blond haired angel. He would have let one of my men die. He is a smart thing, he must have known from the beginning you were part of the crew.” It was logical, but why did he save you then? “I think he has a crush on you.” 

“What?! Of course not!” You yelled, scandalized. Hook looked unimpressed at your outburst. “How can you fall for someone you had just seen?!”

“Some does. Just… He is sweets on you, I can see that. And we can use this to our advantage.” Hook stood up and put his hands on your shoulders. “Think about it: we steal Neverland’s magic, we defeat Pan… We can have all the riches in the world. Don’t you want that?” 

“I don’t know what I want. I just… want to survive.” You admitted, not liking Hook’s idea. You didn’t want to play that game. 

“What about living your life? Without the surviving part? When we get the magic, we will be able to steal everything we wish. Imagine this: you, in a castle, not having to work a single day of your life, not having to look behind your shoulder, not having to be afraid…” He whispered in your ears. It was tempting, and he knew it. You sighed, defeated. 

“Okay, I’ll walk.” 

“Good girl.” He rubbed your shoulders roughly which made you wince. “Go to bed now.” 

A few days had passed since that discussion. Hook made sure you were prepared to manipulate Felix, who you learnt was Peter Pan’s second in command. So, he was a very important person, as he knew most of the secrets. You still disliked the idea of manipulating the lost boy: he had done no harm to you. He had just helped you. But, when you thought about what could happen after… You just wanted a comfortable life, you deserved it after spending so many years on the streets, stealing, sometimes killing, fighting… It was your reward. 

Hook had sent you wandering in the woods again, in the hope of meeting Felix. You walked around, being careful about not touching any flowers that appealed to you. Sighing, you sat down on a boulder, observing the ladybugs, butterflies and other insects flying around. The pirates on the ship had spoken to you about the island after they saw you with Felix, the tales weren’t happy ones: fearsome beasts, dreamshade and other poisonous flowers, the deathly lost boys with a devil for a king and a fairy without wings that lurked around. They were dark tales and yet, from where you were sitting, Neverland seemed beautiful and majestic. Your views on the island were much more different from them.

“You look bored.” 

The voice had startled you and you turned, a hand on your sword, to see who was speaking to you. To your luck, it was Felix. You gave him a smile and climbed down. You walked up to him, trying to act cool and collected. You felt disgusted with yourself for doing that, but you needed it. You needed that life you dreamt for so long. 

“I am bored. Hook kicked me out for some time. He said I was annoying him.” That was not entirely false. The captain would often send you away and would then blame you for running off when you came back. 

“He doesn’t seem very caring about you.” Felix hummed and swung his wooden club over his shoulder. 

“He isn’t.” You replied with a snort. “If anything, he would sell me for a good price if I annoyed him too much. He wouldn’t mind.”

Felix looked shocked to hear this, again, it was the truth. You didn’t want to play the damsel in distress though… Your life sounded miserable when you spoke about it. Deciding to lead the conversation on another subject, you asked him how he found you. He replied with a smirk and whistled. A dark shadow flew above both of you, which started you and you tripped as you tried to take cover. That thing stared at you with hollow eyes then looked at Felix, as if it was waiting orders. 

“Don’t worry, the Shadow won’t hurt you. Unless I told him so.” The blond said as the thing disappeared again. He helped you stand up. “I am supposed to tour the island for a bit, would you like to join me?” 

“Sure, I don’t have anything to do anyway. And being stuck in a ship isn't good for walking.” You decided, following after him. He was walking very fast, you noticed. “How long have you been in Neverland?” 

“I don’t really remember. Some centuries I guess?” He hummed before sliding down a path and watched you do the same, perhaps to catch you if you fell. 

“Centuries?!” You exclaimed, taken aback by his reply. Felix didn’t look like a very old man, he rather looked like a young man. But that could explain how his eyes seemed old but the rest of his body didn’t. You wondered how that was possible to remain young like him. “How is this possible?” 

“Neverland keeps us young. We don’t age.” He smiled, amused by your interest. “Well, it is Pan’s magic.” 

Felix then talked about his daily life on the island. You listened to him while you explored Neverland with him. You were amazed by some of his stories, but you really doubted his capability of fighting a mountain lion on his own. Was he telling those stories to impress you? No one had ever tried to woo you, and you didn’t try to do so. Anyway, time truly seemed to stop when you were with him. You were back on the beach as the sun was setting, hearing another story. Watching him, you realized he was everything you wanted to be.

You envied how Felix and the lost boys were free. Neverland was beautiful, full of resources and exploration. From what Felix had told you, there were no girls amongst the lost boys, the reason was they never followed the music of Pan’s flute. You laughed when the blond said that, and he asked you why you thought this was funny. 

“Oh Felix, if I had heard a flute, I would have stayed home too. I mean… Being on the streets taught me that I shouldn’t go to a place with too many boys.” You said with a sad chuckle, staring off at the ocean. 

“I am sorry, I didn’t… You don’t talk about your life before Hook that much.” Felix told you in a soft tone. He seemed to know it was a difficult and rather traumatic thing to do. 

“We have known each other for a few days, it is not a conversation I have upon meeting someone.” 

“I know, sorry.” He apologized again. 

The pirates had also told you all sorts of things about Felix. You didn’t know if it was to frighten you or to make you forget he was kind and nice to you so that you could act upon the plan just like Hook wanted. They talked about how intimidating he was, how carefree and a beast he was in a fight, and that once, he ripped a pirate’s heart and crushed it under his boot like it was nothing. But he didn’t strike you as such a monster. Or maybe he was like that because he indeed was sweet on you? 

Still, you wished to know how he truly was. Was it that monster? Felix noticed how quiet you were and asked what you were thinking about. You kept your mouth shut and wondered if you should indeed ask him if he was terrible in a battle. Maybe he will be able to tell you the truth?

“I… I wanted to ask you this: is it true that… that you ripped a heart from a pirate’s chest and crushed it?” You asked with a nervous tone, fiddling with the hems of your sleeve’s shirts. What if Felix found out you were using him for secrets and killed you the same way? This thought was haunting you. 

“Who told you that?” Taking a glimpse at him, you realised how dark his eyes were. As if a storm had appeared suddenly after days and weeks of good and sunny weather. 

“The crew. They like to gossip. Unfortunately.” You stuttered out under his gaze. 

“It’s true.” He then said with a shrug and a smirk grew on his lips as he went closer to you. “Afraid of me now, little pirate?” 

“Of course not!” You jokingly pushed him away from you. “Thank you for being honest with me. I mean… No one is truly good or evil.” 

“You’re right about that. I mean, look at Hook.” He chortled and you laughed with him. 

“True. He saved me from the streets but he treats me like shit.” 

“Perhaps you should head back. The night is coming. I wouldn’t want you hurt.” He noticed as the sky was slowly filled with stars. 

“I am sure with you I am not risking anything.” You softly said as you stood up and started to walk toward the ship. Felix was not following you, but stood as you left. “I will see you later.” 

“Do you still want to see me?” He asked with a snort. Why was he acting like that? Or… Or was he flirting? It was so hard to tell. But, deep down, you still wanted to be with him. if you could have spent the night and the day after… You would have been utterly happy. 

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” You smiled at him then heard someone yelling your name. You groaned and started to run on the sand, which was pretty hard to do. 

When you stepped on the ship, you were welcomed with a bunch of laughing and drunk pirates. Rolling your eyes, you knew they would mess with you about your apparent love story with the lost boy. Well… It was not really a love story, was it? The crew was rather rowdy tonight, you disliked when they were like this. You couldn’t sleep, your ears were bleeding from their bad singing and they would call you names, treating you like a servant or a maid. 

That night seemed not different and Hook had joined them as well. You shuddered as he approached you and clapped your back many times very roughly. You tried to make it stop as he blocked you from escaping his grasp. Searching for Smee, your potential savior, you saw him half asleep and half drinking in a corner. So much for friendship. You groaned when Hook started a speech about how you will be able to save them from Pan, how you would steal his magic. You tried to escape his grasp but it was near impossible. The crew cheered at each sentence of their captain and you thought you would go deaf after that. 

Finally, after forcing you to drink a bottle of rum, you were able to escape and to go to sleep. You closed the door behind you and wondered if you should lock it. The key had disappeared so it meant Hook had it with him. Swiftly, you locked it and sighed in relief. You hated the taste of alcohol, he knew it, why did he make you drink? It was probably another punishment for something you must have done or not done. 

You reached your area of the room and drew the curtains that separated your space from Hook’s. Ultimately, you changed clothes, cleaned yourself a little and drank water before tucking yourself in your bed. Your hands found the dagger under the pillow but also the stuffed animal you had since your birth was laying there, ready to be cuddled. It was one of the few things you had kept from your life before. Hook had tried to throw it several times but he had failed. He wanted you to be a grown up in a way, but he refused to see you were already grown. 

The next morning, you snuck out of the room, careful to not awaken the pirates. You couldn’t handle being locked there, between four walls. You wanted to feel the wind on your face, to feel the sand between your toes and to touch the sea. Being on the ship made you a pitiful mouse but out of it, you did feel like a predator. Perhaps you could stay in Neverland? That way, you will be able to see Felix often. 

As you climbed down the ship quietly, you realised how much the lost boy was occupying your mind and you started to have concerns over the plan, and more importantly, on how it will affect Felix. He had done nothing wrong to you, unlike Hook and his pirates. He was kind too, at least to you. You had never encountered someone like him. Groaning, you wondered why you were falling in love so fast, betting it was on the fact no one had ever been the way he was with you. You have to keep cool and to keep focused on the plan, then you will have all the riches in the world, have a good house and a good life. You deserved this. But you were conflicted. 

You entered the forest, hoping to find the lost boy again. Perhaps this time, you could explore the jungle more? It looked dangerous, menacing and gloomy, that was maybe why you were attracted to it. It had the same feelings and vibes as the streets you grew in. It was oddly reassuring. As you stomped around the woods on your own, you wondered how Felix always managed to find you. Perhaps it was thanks to that weird and threatening being? Did that thing spy on you? You looked to the sky and sighed, reassured when you didn’t catch a glimpse of the shadow being. It was freaking you out honestly. 

You came across a river that separated you from the other side, there was a dam that linked the two parts, probably built by the lost boys. Everything was strangely calm as well, which made you stop as you moved to access the makeshift bridge. The reeds were moving but there was no wind. Stepping back, you realised you had made a wrong choice coming all the way here alone. There was a reason why Felix hadn’t brought you to this area, even if you didn’t know it. It felt terribly wrong, you felt it in your guts, and your guts never were wrong. 

Turning to leave, you yelped as a boy stood at your level, grinning. You fell on your back, surprised by him. He approached nonchalantly and looked down on you, still smiling. Something about him made you sick. There was something foul, you felt it. He had bright green eyes, like a king’s emerald. 

“Well, hello there, stranger.” He said with a mocking voice, probably amused by your frightened self. Then, he tilted his head. “Or should I say pirate?” 

You didn’t say anything and reached for your gun, but to your dismay, you had forgotten it back at the ship. You were helpless against that boy and you didn’t like that. Jumping to your feet, you attempted to walk past him but he gripped your arm roughly, you groaned and tried to wriggle out of his grip. Glancing at his face, you saw how his eyes sparkled with wrath and anger. He did not like you walking away from him apparently. 

“Let go of me, you shit face!” You insulted, panicked because this boy may be smaller than you but his strength was incredibly big. He was going to break your arm and you were defenseless against him.  

“Pirates aren’t welcome on my island, I thought my second in command told that to your captain. Did he send a pretty girl in, hoping that I take interest in you so you can stab me in the back?” To your defense, it was Hook’s plan, not yours. He seemed to have read your mind as a smirk grew on his face. “Oh, you are Felix’s secret.” 

“Leave me!” 

“No I won’t. I know what your game is now: you want to use him to hurt me. It might work, you know? I like Felix, he is loyal to a fault, reliable and incredibly violent. My type of friends.” He continued, unbothered by you trying to escape and you still couldn’t. “You are going to break his heart, love, and I can’t have you do that to him.” 

“I don’t want to hurt him, I swear-” You blurted out unwillingly, your cheeks warming up in embarrassment. Finally, the boy let you go when you revealed that and he started to laugh. 

“Don’t tell me you love him. Oh, you do. I wonder how Hook will take that. It is treason, isn’t it? He will make you walk the plank and die.” 

“Who the fuck are you anyway?! Why do you care?!” You screamed, very alarmed.

“You aren’t very bright, I am Peter Pan and this-” He moved his arms to show the area. So, this was the fearsome Peter Pan, you had to agree with the crew, he looked beautiful but terrifying, like a rose with thorns. “Is my kingdom. I feel like I will enjoy playing with you, girl. You are such a cute thing to destroy.” He approached you so fast, you didn’t have the time to see him coming. Peter Pan grinned again and you wondered if his teeth were fangs, it clearly looked like that. “Poor Felix, about to get his heart broken.” 

“I will not hurt him, I don’t want to. I am not… I am not a monster.” Like you, you wanted to add but bit your tongue. It was not the moment to die like an idiot. “I care a lot about him.” 

“Speaking about your feelings with your enemy, that is a bold move.” Pan went on as he started to walk around in a circle. You felt like a mouse about to get eaten or toyed with by a cat. 

“Pan! We have a problem with-” The voice stopped and you felt like you were about to faint. It was Felix. Your eyes went to the leader of the lost boys who simply turned to watch his second in command arriving. “What is going on?” He asked, and you noticed that his voice was shaking a little. He seemed nervous to see you with Pan and you were nervous as well. 

“Oh nothing. I happened to stumble upon a lady in distress. I think she got a bit lost.” His voice sounded no longer threatening but was authoritarian. Is that how a friend speaks to one of his? You watched quietly and anxiously as Peter looked at you. “I didn’t know she was your secret Felix. You should have told me about her.” 

“I am sorry but the occasion never… It was never the right time.” Felix explained as Peter hummed, acknowledging his reply. “She is not a threat.” 

“Oh I know that, what kind of pirates could ever get to hurt us?” He mocked as he patted his second in command on the shoulder. “Have fun Felix, but you know the rules.” 

In a way, you felt that this was also addressed to you. If Pan knew about the plan, then he could tell Felix and damage your relationship with him. But again, if you decided to pursue something with him, you were betraying Hook, and you will have a death threat on your back. However, if Felix knew about the plan, realizing you spent time with him on purpose, then you will both have your heart broken. You needed to know where your loyalty lies or it will kill you. 

When Pan left and was out of sight, Felix quickly approached you and held you in his arms. His club fell on the ground but he didn’t seem to mind. You tensed when he touched you but melted and leant into it. Closing your eyes, you listened to his heartbeat. It was… comfortable and nice. His hands moved to your hair and he caressed you for some minutes in silence. 

“I thought he was going to harm you.” He whispered and parted away from the hug. You tried not to show you were sad he pulled away and instead concentrated on the river. “I… Why did you come here?” 

“I just wanted to explore the woods.” You honestly replied. It was such an innocent thing to say. “I… I hoped to run into you.” 

“Pan is no… He cares about us. He doesn’t want us to have love, he says it will lead us nowhere and hurt us. You have to understand that he is a threat only to you. He could have killed you.” Felix scolded you. You felt like listening to Hook when something didn’t go his way. 

“I know, I am sorry.” 

“It’s okay. I just…” He gulped down nervously and you saw how red his cheeks were. “I will hate myself if something happens to you.” 

“Thank you. For saving me I guess.” You wondered what Pan could have done to you if Felix hadn’t shown up. This boy… he was terrifying and that was the worst part! He really looked like a child tyrant and you felt embarrassed to be afraid of him. 

“Let’s get you back to the ship. It is not safe for you here.” Felix replied as he boldly took your hand and took you away. 

Hook was getting on your nerves now. 

He didn’t like you getting nowhere with the lost boy. Well, to you, you were getting somewhere with him. You two had kissed many times and did even more than kissing. The pirate captain just didn’t understand, too preoccupied with his greed. The crew was also growing impatient and questioned your mere presence on the ship. It was a matter of time before getting kicked out, you knew it. 

Sighing, you contemplated the landscape from the quarterdeck. You considered jumping into the ocean and drowning but you would hurt Felix, so you didn’t do it. Ugh that boy! Why did he have to occupy your mind like this? What was so nice about him that you couldn’t go through a simple plan that would work perfectly? Everything was so complicated. Life was complicated. 

“Okay there missy?” Smee interrupted your train of thoughts as he approached, looking concerned. “You haven’t been yourself in a while.” 

“I am fine, don’t worry about me.” You replied, attempting to reassure him. Out of all the people from the crew, you liked Smee the most. He wasn’t lewd, brutal or disgusting like them but rather… normal. “I was just thinking.” 

“Ah yes, about your new life right? Can’t wait for that I bet.” 

“Yeah…” 

While Smee was rambling about what his life would be like after Pan’s magic was stolen, you wondered if you should just leave the ship permanently. What could stop you from running away? Felix seemed pretty open to the idea, he had told you many times he could hide you somewhere. It was tempting, and now, you were ready to do this. That way, you will escape Hook and this life you hated. What was wrong about double crossing the captain? He wasn’t a good person anyway. 

“-and so, we decided to get rid of the lost boys so it can be easier for you to steal the magic. I bet Pan would be so mad he won’t see what’s coming to hit him!” Smee laughed and your face must have done something because he instantly grew worried and asked if you were feeling okay. 

“Excuse me but what did you say about the lost boys?” You asked kindly, hiding behind that mask allowed you to get what you wanted with Smee, you knew it. 

“We found their camp. Hook is going to distract Pan so we can attack and kill them, those filthy rascals.” 

They will attack the lost boys. 

They will KILL Felix.

You smiled at Smee and told him you were going to walk a bit on the beach, to get fresh air. He shrugged, told you to be careful and also to come back before the attack starts, so you can be safe on the ship. Of course, you said you would do that. When you found the right time, you slipped away from the ship and the crew’s watchful gaze (though that was the easiest part). They were too busy getting ready for the fight they didn’t see you leaving. 

You had to warn Felix about what was about to happen. One day, Felix tried to teach you how to whistle and the different meanings behind them. However, you were pretty bad at it and he instead offered you a wooden whistle he had made himself. He promised he would hear it  and would come as fast as possible. Hoping he would, you waited at the boulder you both first met and decided to give it a try. You begged and prayed to any gods listening for him to come. He had to know about the attack. 

Thankfully, he showed up some minutes later. You didn’t question how he got there, you had your own idea about it. Instead of greeting him, you immediately jumped in front of him and blurted out a lot of information at the same time because of the panic you felt. Felix didn’t quite understood what you meant so you had to repeat yourself several times.

“It’s the pirates, I can’t stop them but they want to attack your camp!” 

“Relax, no one knows where it is, outside of us.” Felix tried to calm you down but grew worried when you shook your head. 

“I don’t know how they know but they know. You have to warn them to go somewhere and to hide or…” 

“Is this why Hook scheduled a meeting with Pan?” He cut you mid sentence.

His tone surprised you. You looked at Felix, and he didn’t look at you the same way he had the last days. You realised he was treating you like an enemy, a prisoner even. Your mouth opened but no sound came from it, too shocked at this brutal change of his behavior. You had no idea about this until Smee informed you. Hook will probably scream at him for that as well; he was not really allowed to talk about those plans with you apparently. 

“I don’t know, maybe? He just wants him out of the way to get you all killed so it can affect Peter Pan. You have to trust me.” You took his hands in yours and hoped he would have some faith in you. “Please. You know I wouldn’t do a thing to harm you.” 

“Alright. I am sorry… I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. Stay here. I won’t be long. After that… I can talk to Pan and make you stay here with us. I don’t think the pirates would be too keen on having you on board after that.” 

He was right. You just had betrayed them. You felt a wave of shame and self loathing, even if the pirates had mistreated you, they had taken you in. Hook fed you, gave you clothes, some parts of the treasures he found. And you threw that away, in favor of love. You didn’t expect any of them to understand, because they won’t. 

Felix had been away for what seemed like hours. You were on the boulder, it was the middle of the night and you wondered if everything was fine. You hadn’t heard anything suspicious as well and there was no smell of fire. So, you guessed the lost boys were fine, which was a relief. Then why Felix didn’t come back? Dread filled your body as you assumed the worst. Maybe Felix warned them but got injured? Maybe something else happened? 

Hearing someone approaching thanks to a broken twig, your hand flew to your gun. You had the advantage of having the high ground. Felix entered the field, seeming unharmed. You sighed in relief and jumped down from the boulder. You ran to him, wanting to hug the lost boy but you stopped when you realised how… how mad and upset he looked. Something must have happened with the pirates, you were sure of it. 

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” You questioned him with a concerned voice. You prayed no one had been severely injured or killed. However, the boy only glared at you and it froze you instantly. 

“When did you want to tell me you were using me?” 

“What?” You asked, horrified; either your secret had been revealed and Pan spilled the beans about Hook’s plan to his second in command or… or he heard it from Hook himself. 

“I said, when did you want to tell me you were using me? To get Pan’s magic? To get secrets about the island?” He accused and stepped forward, making you walk backwards until your back reached a tree and you couldn’t run away anymore. “Give me one reason to not kill you right now.” 

“Who- Who told you that?” 

“When Pan told me, I didn’t want to believe him. I thought he was maybe jealous but when Hook revealed why you started to hang out with me… It all made sense, you damn rat.” His eyes were so full of hatred and menaces that you wanted to melt to the ground and disappear forever. “Why did you do that?” 

“I am sorry but he forced me! I didn’t want to at the beginning but… but you wouldn’t even understand! But I swear I meant it when I told you I wouldn’t want to hurt you!” You attempted to explain and Felix scoffed as he turned around, leaving the field. You quickly ran after him, you couldn’t let your happiness slip through your fingers like this. It was unfair."Felix I swear I didn't think it would get that far…!" You implored the blond haired boy as you scrambled to follow him. He was walking so fast you had trouble keeping up with him. He suddenly stopped and whirled to face you. You gulped down nervously, waiting for him.

"You used me! You told me you loved me, I kissed you and you just used me!" He screamed back and you were too stunted to do something. "Pan was right all along, you're just like them: a dirty pirate who only wants gold." 

"That's not true! Hook forced me to do it but I swear Felix…" You repeated and you tried to approach the lost boy. You stopped when he threatened you with his wooden club. Tears started to roll down your cheeks from being tired, angry at yourself and sad you were losing him. “Please don’t leave me.” You whispered, your legs shaking, frightened about what was going to happen. 

“Go back to your ship, Hook is waiting for you. And if I ever see you again, you won’t be breathing.” He stated menacingly. You let out a sob as he turned again and left. 

Once you were truly alone and finished your crying, you picked yourself up and dragged you back to the beach. You were certain all of this was a set up from Pan, perhaps amused to see you suffer or to block Felix from being truly happy. But that didn’t matter anymore. You wrapped your arms around yourself, a futile attempt to reassure you from all that happened. You hadn’t expected that much pain from losing someone. 

Climbing back on the ship’s board, you realised no one was here. The crew must be sleeping, but there was no guard which was odd. Maybe Hook had a truce going on with the lost ones? This was a possibility. You walked toward the quarter you shared with the pirate captain and you softly opened the door, finding at first empty. As you locked, you heard someone turning on the oil lamp. Sighing, you turned to face Hook. After losing Felix, you were ready for anything now. 

He was leaning on his chair, staring at his shiny hook. You timidly took a few steps but stopped, stressed and scared. Finally noticing your arrival, his eyes met yours and he nodded toward the table. He wanted you to have a seat with him, how bizarre. You sat down and avoided his gaze, feeling like a kid who had been caught stealing. 

“I am extremely disappointed in you.” He started, his voice neutral. “I thought we were on good terms together. I let you live with us freely. You don’t have to do all the hard work unlike the crew and you eat at my table. I ask you to do one simple task: get secrets and manipulate Pan’s second in command. And what do you do? You run off to him, spilling about another part of the plan.” 

“I am sorry-”

“Shut your mouth.” He insulted, and you did so. You felt so little. “I should kill you. That’s betrayal. But you are young, inexperienced and down right miserable. I would say you have been taught a lesson however…” Your eyes met his and your face drained from its color when you saw this sparkle of mischief they held. "You have to be punished." He announced as he approached you and you knew what it meant by “being punished”. 

"No, Hook, don't!" You protested as he dragged you toward a trapdoor on his room's floor. You squirmed and even bit him to get away but you couldn't. He opened the trapdoor with a sad sigh and threw you in. 

“On our next stopover, I will find you a nice gentleman.” You heard him as you were paralyzed, too stressed to gain control of your body. “I’ll sell you off, get some money and you will have a happy ending like you always were meant to get.” He finished with a mocking voice as you heard him lifting something heavy. “Until then, behave.” 

It was dark, cold and cramped. Your breathing began to be irregular and you pounded at the trapdoor, sobbing and shaking, begging the pirate to free you. Hook knew how you hated the dark, how and why you feared it. You heard him putting something heavy, like a carpet, above the entrance. Then, the door from the quarters slammed and you found yourself alone, in the darkness. 

You don’t know how long you spent in the cold darkness. Your fingers were bloody from scratching the wooden doors, you felt weak and frail, like you were constantly about to faint. Your lips were dry from not being able to drink water. If anything, Hook was not trying to punish you but to kill you. Perhaps this was a fitting end. You never could have nice things before, why should you have here? If only you did as you were told… But, you met Felix, and you couldn’t even hate him for leaving you. You understood his anger. You just hoped he was doing okay.

Curling into the corner, you attempted to warm yourself up but you failed miserably. Since the trapdoor was so close to the water level, you felt the humidity from it, which was going to make you ill or it already did. You were sneezing and coughing from time to time but you always checked your body temperature, you didn’t appear to have a fever or even a sickness. Maybe it was the mold and the seaweed? 

What was also strange was the lack of sounds. It felt like the crew left and decided to leave you to die. Why didn’t Hook execute you? It would have been easier instead of letting you rot away. You would have preferred it anyway. You were dozing off when you heard someone knock down the door. You knew that sound: yourself had used it to break into houses in order to steal. Weakly, you lifted yourself and tried to be silent, to make sure what you heard was not some kind of hallucination. 

You almost started to cry when you heard footsteps. Someone was definitely upstairs, going through the room. Who was it? A lost boy? A crew’s member? Smee? Someone you didn’t know? You hoped they were friendly and willing to open the trapdoor. If not, you could promise them the captain’s secret treasure, you knew where it was, unlike the crew. You started to hit on the wooden door again, wincing as you did so. Your knuckles and fingers were bloody and injured but you didn’t have a choice: it was your chance to escape. The person seemed to notice some kind of noises as you attempted to knock on the door with full force and strength. You could hear them approaching the carpet that must muffle the sounds. 

"Is someone down there?" 

It was Felix. Your eyes shot up with excitement and relief and you started to trash against the door again. You needed him to open it, to free you. You didn’t know if he was willing to, however. But you had to try. You needed to get out or you will die.

"Please Felix, I need you to help me!" 

"Wait… (Y/N)? Shit! What are you doing there?!" 

"Please open me, please!" Your fists were getting tired against the hardwood but you pushed yourself to make more and more noises. You didn’t want to spend one more second down there. 

Waiting some minutes, you wondered if Felix left you. It didn’t seem right, he sounded worried. He seemed to be searching for something to open the trapdoor, since Hook must have taken the lock’s key. You almost fainted when the door opened and strong arms pulled you out. Letting yourself fall, you stumbled upon Felix who held you tightly. It felt nice, it felt reassuring and comforting. You were hungry, thirsty and dizzy, but you tried to stand up and walk. However, after being locked for three days at least, you were extremely weak. 

"Tell me you had some water at least?" Felix asked in a serious and concerned tone. 

"No…" You croaked out, looking around for a water pitcher. Hook wasn't known for his love of water but he often kept one for you in his quarters, since you slept there with him. "There it is." 

Felix sat you down gently on your much smaller and simpler bed than Hook's across the room and got a glass that he immediately filled to the brim. He strode back to you and put the cup to your lips, forcing you to drink all of it. Some spilled out, but you didn’t care: it felt so good, like you had reached an untouched paradise. 

"Why did you lock you up? Is it… Is it because of me?" 

"Amongst other things, yes. I think he is growing tired of having me around." You sighed, knowing your fate will not be a good one. You knew that day would eventually come, the pirate captain never hid to tell you he will not hesitate to sell you off to some man to get married. You shuddered and started to cry again at the mere thought of it. 

"It's going to be okay." Felix tried to reassure you awkwardly, but he had failed to do so. You  were shaking from crying so much and he draped an arm over your shoulder to bring you closer to him. "I promise." 

"No, no, you don't understand. He will send me away, he always told me so." 

"I won't let you go. I… I will hide you somewhere on the island. Not even Pan needs to know you are here." Felix continued, but it was futile: nothing escaped Pan. He could try all his might, Pan would eventually find you and kill you. "Let’s get you out of here first and I will find you a place to stay, and… and maybe I will find a magic bean, you will be able to leave." 

"Why are you doing this? I thought you hated me." You sniffled miserably and tried to dry your tears. 

"Let’s say I… I reconsidered all the events and came to the conclusion you are not the villain in the story. Hook is. You never meant to harm me."

"And I still don't want to." You assured him as you stood up on wobbly legs. You didn’t have a lot of personal belongings, except for some pieces of jewelry that your mother had gifted you before dying and some coming from Hook that you never wore, and some clothes. It didn't take too long to get your bag ready, which the lost boy insisted on taking. 

There was no sign of the crew as you both left the empty ship and you grew concerned. Did they wait for Felix to come and rescue you? Was it a trap? You flinched when Felix touched your shoulder, perhaps to reassure you. He also looked worried but more for you. You understood: you must look and smell like hell after spending some days without water, food and other basic needs that you couldn’t do or have. 

The sun was about to set, you noticed. Maybe it was the easiest to move at night on the island? When you stared at Felix, you also wondered why he came to the Jolly Roger in the first place. Did Pan send him to? Or did he go on his own? Perhaps to look for you? Your heart swelt at the thought but you doubted it was that reason. When you left him (or rather he left you), he was hysterical and furious. As you both walked down a muddy path, you decided to ask him the question. 

“Truth to be told… I was worried about you.” He explained, studying the environment before helping you out. He lifted you down to another path, less recognizable. Felix seemed to know where he was going, so you didn’t bother to fret about that secret location you were both headed to. “Listen I… I was furious when I learnt that plan, Hook’s plan. I wasn’t thinking straight, I was really hurt you apparently tried to use me. But then… I thought that someone who didn’t care about me wouldn’t betray a treacherous and vicious pirate crew.” He finished and shyly smiled at you. You could have fainted listening to him: he was forgiving you! “Now, the most important thing is to get you somewhere safe.” 

“Where are we going?” You finally asked, concentrating on following him through thick bushes. Your boots were getting dirty from all the mud and water, you were in a kind of swamp. You panicked when you saw bright yellow eyes blinking and glittering at you. You quickly ran to Felix and held his hand, seeking comfort and protection. You were too weak to fight, and you didn’t know where your gun and sword were. 

“A place where Hook and Pan wouldn’t think of finding you. Well, Pan could find you out but I plan on smuggling you out as fast as possible.” 

“Will you come with me?” 

He didn’t reply and you decided not to push the question further. You understood if Felix wanted to stay: his whole life was in Neverland. He was the second in command, he had to care about the other lost boys as well. He couldn’t leave all that for you. After all, it was indeed your fault if you were in that mess. 

Finally, you reached your destination: it was a cave hidden deep inside the swamp. Felix informed you Peter hated this part of the island, so he will hesitate to come snooping around. You were a bit surprised to see furniture such as a bed, cabinet and table already there. 

“It was an old hideout before Pan forbade us to come here.” He quickly explained when he saw you look around. “It’s dusty but… Better than a trapdoor, am I right?” 

“Yeah, anything is better than that.” You agreed and walked over to the bed. 

The second in command laid something on the bed and you realized he had stolen some things from Hook’s quarters. Actually, it was your blanket, so the pirate won’t be that mad. But he will certainly be astonished to see the trapdoor opened with no sign of your person in it. Perhaps Felix had an idea on how to escape the island? You wanted to ask him if he had a magic bean but you refrained from doing so. You were exhausted from being imprisoned and from walking. You laid down on the bed and tried to get comfortable. 

“I am going to get you some supplies from another hideout not far away. I won’t be too long. Try to sleep.” Felix softly whispered and kissed your forehead. 

“Thank you.” 

When you awoke, Felix was nowhere to be seen. There were several new objects and a basket full of food and a pitcher. Your stomach growled and you leaped to your feet, almost rushing to the table. You were so hungry and absolutely starved, your hands greedily went through the basket. Felix seemed to have the time to prepare some sandwiches that you devoured without a second thought. It felt insanely good to eat. For you, this was better than the food you would eat with Hook at his table. You wondered if he knew where you went or if he didn’t care. Probably the latter, you thought. If he was willing to sell you off then he didn’t care that much about your person. 

Bored, you walked toward the entrance of the cave. You didn’t have the time or the energy to observe your surroundings when you arrived. Your nose scrunched up when you got a scent from the swamps: it was disgusting and you gagged at the odor. That may be one of the reasons Pan hated this place and you completely agreed with him. It was inhumane. At least the yellow eyes were gone or so you believed. You had seen such eyes in books about nature and animals, perhaps alligators lived there. You smiled, thinking about the odd story the captain told you once at night: a crocodile apparently took his hand and now he was wearing a hook to use it. You wondered if those animals could talk so you could ask them to eat him. 

Something moved in the swamp which made you hide further in the cave’s shadows. You didn’t have any weapons on you so it was best to keep a low profile. Next time, you would ask Felix to get you some. You couldn’t stand being without one, you felt naked. You instantly smiled when you saw a familiar head with blond locks advancing toward the cave. Still, you stayed well hidden before jumping in to hug him. 

“Thank you for the food, I greatly appreciated that.” You told him between kisses. 

“We have no time to waste. I fear Pan must know something.” He replied, sounding almost desperate and frightened. “I may know a way to keep you safe but… There is a price to pay.” 

“You are scaring me Felix.” 

“Listen, there is someone named Rumpletilskin, he makes magical deals with people, at unfair prices though. We could… call him. I will pay any price if that means you get to live away from here.” The second in command argued with a disaffected and trembling voice. He didn’t seem to trust that person as well, which did scare you a little. 

“But I don’t want to leave you!” You complained, you could hide in there for a long time, you wouldn’t mind. It was going to be hard but you didn’t want to leave Felix. 

“I know.” He sighed and closed his eyes. It was also hard for him, you could tell that. “But it’s the only way to secure your safety.”

“You should come with me. We could live together.” You tried to insist but you found yourself disappointed when he shook his head again.

“I can’t. I have responsibilities here, the boys… Even if they annoy the fuck out of me, I can’t just live them there, you know? I promise I will do anything to find you after.” He sputtered, you felt being the second choice for him but you somewhat understood what the issue is: he had known the lost boys for all his life (centuries as he told you) and you both have known each other for what? Some weeks? It was unfair for him to just leave everything for a girl he barely knew. 

“Okay.” You agreed, defeated. He was right, this was the only issue unfortunately. “But what if Pan knows about that?” 

“He won’t dearie.” 

Felix’s eyes shot wide open and he pulled you behind him protectively, though you could stand your ground. You scowled upon seeing the man or rather… creature in front of you: he looked more like a crocodile or alligator, with scales and golden eyes. He seemed rather amused at your constant starring and you glanced at the lost boy who looked tense. He giggled as he approached and wandered around the cave. 

“I can’t believe my eyes! The second in command of Peter Pan, calling me, to make a deal! And with a pirate, nonetheless. What for, dearie?”

“For her protection.” Felix said with a stern and serious voice. You didn’t know what else to say so you let him deal with the strange fellow. “To be away from Neverland.” 

“It will cost you a great deal, my friend. And I don’t think you have something I desire unfortunately, except if you can bring me your leader’s head.” You froze at that statement, knowing he wouldn’t do it. Also, Rumpletilskin seemed very angry when he spoke of Peter Pan. Did they have a history together? 

“A part of my heart, perhaps?” 

“What?!” You turned to stare at Felix, shocked by his offer. What did he mean by a part of his heart? 

“Tell me more.” Rumpletilskin clapped his hands together, visibly interested. 

“My heart is special, pure red, extremely rare, that’s what Pan told me.” Felix replied without glancing at you. Your heart was thundering in your chest, speaking of hearts made you quite queasy. “If I give you a part of it, you will make sure she has a good life somewhere else, where she will be happy, safe and without any problems of any kind. Do we have a deal?”  

“I want to see it first.” The being haggled over, but he didn’t hide his interest. 

“Felix, you don’t have to do that.” You told the lost boy, squeezing his hand. 

“I have to. For you.” 

Rumplestiltskin appeared in front of Felix. Unlike you, he didn’t step back, he instead glared at the dealmaker. You wondered how he would be able to see Felix’s heart. How could someone do that? Will he open the lost boy here and there? It seemed very risky and unsafe. To your surprise and horror, the man didn’t do that. Instead, he stuck his hand in the chest of your lover and took out his heart. Felix moaned in pain and you let him leant against him. He looked extremely weak but tried to appear strong and unbothered by what was happening. 

The dealmaker inspected the heart meticulously and methodically. It was making you sick: he was observing the heart as if it was some meat piece! It was revolting. Rumplestiltskin took his sweet time before snapping his fingers together. A piece of parchment appeared out of thin air, with a feather quill. 

“We have ourselves a deal my friend.” 

“Felix, I am not sure about this. Are you certain-”

“Anything to protect, I will pay any price if it means you get to live that life you ever wanted. You deserve this. Let me take care of you one more time.” He softly spoke and kissed you. 

The dealmaker made a gagging sound and giggled when he realised how embarrassed you were. What a bastard. You understood why the lost boy didn’t seem to like him. Watching anxiously Felix signing the parchment, you pondered over leaving him on his own, without a part of his heart. Wouldn’t he die without it? Would it be painful? 

You got your reply as the blond haired boy groaned in pain, louder than when his heart was first taken, and if you weren’t holding him, the poor lad would have fallen over to the ground. You held him and hugged him, not wanting to be separated but now you didn’t have a choice anymore. You watched as the dealmaker held a little part of the heart, a shining little thing, it looked like a ruby. It was truly beautiful. 

“There lover bird, let me put that back where it belongs.” The creature talked as he roughly pushed the heart back in the chest. Felix took a big inspiration before standing up on shaking legs. Then, the dealmaker stared at you with a smirk. “You have five minutes to pack and say your goodbyes.” 

At least you didn’t have to leave immediately. Rumplestiltskin whistled a tune before advancing toward the exit of the cave. When he was out of sight, you hugged and kissed Felix, thanking him a hundred times for what he had done for you. Still, you didn’t want to leave him. You wanted to drag him to a better place with you, it was unfair he had to stay here. 

“I don’t want to be away from you. I will die if I don’t have you near me.” You complained as Felix packed your own bag. He had insisted on doing it. 

“Don’t worry. I just hope you forget me.” He tried to joke and laughed, but stopped when he saw how sad you actually were. “Or not.” Stepping toward you, he cupped your cheek and you leant into his touch. “I will try to find a way so we can be together again. I promise.” 

“Okay. I promise not to forget about you.” You smiled and kissed him. Deciding on giving him something so he could still remember you, you took off one of your necklaces and offered him the piece. It was golden, with a ring attached to it. You put it in his palm delicately. 

“I have to give you something too now.” He chuckled and reached for a ring he always wore. You never asked him the story from it. “There, you can wear it around your neck too. I will get it back when we will be reunited.” 

“Your time is up dearie!” Rumpletilskin announced, happy to ruin the mood. “Or do you want to get killed by Peter Pan?” 

“No, I'm coming.” You said before looking at Felix for the last time. “I will see you.” You kissed him again but the dealmaker roughly yanked you with him. You both groaned at the loss of sensations and before you could blink, a strange cloud made of smoke blinded you. 

Opening your eyes, you found yourself in an immense room, which you believed to be a living room of some kind or rather a dining hall. It was not lightened, except for some candelabras. Also, there were numerous art pieces on the walls. It didn’t feel like home and not something you would live in. Hearing the dealmaker giggling, you turned and realized he had been watching you the whole time. There was a sick sparkle in his eyes that made your stomach turn. Your gut was telling you to be careful and that something was wrong.

“Your friend doesn’t read, doesn’t he?” 

“I don’t know, the subject was never brought up.” You replied quickly, being on the defensive. 

“Good, because that fool will never ever see you again.” The crocodile man smirked and you found yourself bonded to a chair. You started to squirm but the binds went tighter and tighter. “Don’t worry dearie, it won’t be painful and it won’t take long. I just love messing with young naive lovers.” 

His hand covered your face, you cringed under his skin and attempted to bite him. He didn’t pay attention to you, he instead seemed to be focused. You hoped he wouldn’t take away your sight or your eyes, he seemed to be very deranged. You gathered some bravery before trying to ask him what he was doing. However, you didn’t have any time to do so: you felt a warm and burning feeling in your eyes, after a few seconds, your head spun to the side and you fell strangely asleep. 

When you awoke, you immediately jumped to your feet. You didn’t remember falling asleep at all. Worryingly, your eyes scanned the dining hall, making sure the owner of the castle was not around. Alas, he was there, swirling some wool through a spinning wheel, and to your surprise, gold came out of it. You were fascinated by the strands of gold and approached, which made the man raise his head to grin at you. 

“Finally awake dearie! You should be grateful I let you nap, but the castle isn’t going to clean itself. I am expecting some guests over.” He requested, implying you had to yet again to scrub and wash. 

“I had the strangest dream.” You told him as your eyes were mesmerized by the spinning. “A boy… He made a deal with you to ensure my safety. He was cute.” 

“Interesting. Keep those silly dreams to yourself dearie, love… is a weakness.” The Dark One declared, now you could finally put a title on his head, your mind was extremely foggy. “Don’t forget you're here because that good for nothing pirate captain threw you out.” 

“Of course. I will never betray you.” You confidently replied. 

“Good. Now, run along and do your chores. I expect this castle to shine, I want to see my face on every wall or ground.” 

Nodding, you decided to leave him and to indeed go back to your chores. Still, the image of that boy haunted your mind. Who was he? He felt so real… Too bad you couldn’t even remember his name, but you did remember his eyes, blue or steel gray, like a cloudy day before the storm. And he had a scar as well. As you reached the cleaning supply and started to mop one of the hallways, you couldn’t help but stupidly smile at the mere thought of seeing him again, in reality or one of your dreams. 

[chic-a-gigot]

La Mode nationale, no. 18, 4 mai 1901, Paris. No. 10. — Groupe de toilettes pour dames, jeunes filles et enfants. Bibliothèque nationale de France

Explications des gravures:

(1) Robe de promenade pour fillettes de 10 à 11 ans, en lainage fantaisie bleu-saphir. Robe façon Empire, sur une seconde jupe en forme. La robe est plissée à la taille; petit boléro drapé, fixé sous un chou; col revers appliqué de guipure blanche; col drapé en taffetas bleu. Manches à revers augereau, brodé; bouffant de taffetas bleu froncé dans un poignet droit.

Matériaux: 4 mètres de lainage; 2 mètres de taffetas.

(1) Walking dress for girls aged 10 to 11, in fancy blue-sapphire wool. Empire style dress, on a second shaped skirt. The dress is pleated at the waist; small draped bolero, fixed under a cabbage; lapel collar applied with white guipure; draped collar in blue taffeta. Augereau cuffed sleeves, embroidered; puff of blue taffeta gathered in a right wrist.

Materials: 4 meters of wool; 2 meters of taffeta.

—

(2) Robe de five o'clock pour jeune femme ou jeune fille, en foulard blanc à ramages rose pâle. Jupe en forme, collante des hanches, guipure blanche. Boléro arrondi bordé de guipure. Col revers de batiste entouré d'un volant plissé; Chemisette en liberty blanc plissé; bouffant de manches froncé dans un poignet droit.

Matériaux: 10 mètres de foulard; 2 mètres de liberty.

(2) Five o'clock dress for a young woman or girl, in white scarf with pale pink branches. Shaped skirt, tight hips, white guipure. Rounded bolero trimmed with guipure. Cambric lapel collar surrounded by a pleated ruffle; Pleated white Liberty shirt; puff sleeves gathered in a right wrist.

Materials: 10 meters of scarf; 2 meters of liberty.

—

(3) Manteau élégant pour dame d'un certain âge; fleurs de Chantilly découpées, rebrodées en relief et appliquées sur du gros tulle. Volant de mousseline de soie noire surmonté de bouillonnés en mousseline de soie. Au col, ruche terminée par des pans faisant rabat.

Matériaux: 5 mètres de tulle; dentelle en laize pour découper; 10 mètres de mousseline de soie.

Chapeau de crin noir fleuri de roses.

(3) Elegant coat for a lady of a certain age; Chantilly flowers cut out, re-embroidered in relief and applied to heavy tulle. Black silk muslin ruffle topped with swirls of silk muslin. At the collar, a ruche ending in sections forming a flap.

Materials: 5 yards of tulle; wide lace for cutting; 10 yards of chiffon.

Black horsehair hat flowered with roses.

—

(4) Robe en homespun oyster. Jupe ample du bas bordée de deux bouillonnés de taffetas vert même ton entre lesquels court une broderie pailletée acier. Quille de taffetas froncillé fixée par une broderie. Corsage drapé bordé de broderie, décolleté sur un plastron plissé à plis lingerie en taffetas blanc. Col en taffetas brodé entoure de petits plissés. Manche mitaine à petit volant de taffetas.

Matériaux: 6 mètres d'homespun; 3 mètres de taffetas.

(4) Dress in homespun oyster. Full skirt at the bottom lined with two bubbles of green taffeta of the same tone between which runs a steel sequined embroidery. Ruched taffeta quille fixed with embroidery. Draped bodice edged with embroidery, neckline on a pleated plastron with lingerie pleats in white taffeta. Embroidered taffeta collar surrounded by small pleats. Mitten sleeve with small taffeta flounce.

Materials: 6 yards of homespun; 3 meters of taffeta.

—

(5) Robe de promenade pour jeune femme ou jeune fille, en granité havane clair. Jupe rayée de biais en travers, devant uni; Boléro croisé, rayé de biais; gilet de taffetas blanc piqué noir et fermé par de très petits boutons. Col revers en taffetas bleu ou panne ou velours léger. Cravate en mousseline de soie bleue. Manches rayées de biais.

Matériaux: 7 mètres de granité; 0m,50 de taffetas bleu; 1 mètre de taffetas blanc.

(5) Walking dress for a young woman or girl, in light Havana granite. Striped skirt across, plain front; Bolero crossed, striped on the bias; vest in white taffeta with black stitching and fastened with very small buttons. Lapel collar in blue or panne taffeta or light velvet. Blue Chiffon Tie. Bias striped sleeves.

Materials: 7 meters of granite; 0m.50 of blue taffeta; 1 meter of white taffeta.

—

(6) Robe de réception pour jeune femme ou dame d'âge moyen, en crépon geranium. Jupe drapée, bordée de biais de taffetas blanc avec dépassant noir et ouverte de côté. L'ouverture est ornée d'un plissé en mousseline de soie. Corsage blouse rentré sous une ceinture corselet en satin noir. Grand col faisant empiècement, bordé de biais blancs et d'un volant plissé en mousseline de soie noire. Manche élargie du bas, garnie comme l'empiècement.

Matériaux: 12 mètres de crêpe; 4 mètres de taffetas blanc; 6 mètres de mousseline de soie; 1 mètre de taffetas noir pour les dépassants.

(6) Reception dress for a young woman or middle-aged lady, in geranium crepon. Draped skirt, bordered on the bias in white taffeta with black overhanging and open on the side. The opening is decorated with a silk chiffon pleat. Blouse bodice tucked under a black satin corselet belt. Large yoke-shaped collar, edged with white bias and a pleated flounce in black silk muslin. Sleeve widened at the bottom, trimmed like the yoke.

Materials: 12 meters of crepe; 4 meters of white taffeta; 6 meters of chiffon; 1 meter of black taffeta for the overhangs.

—

(7) Jupon de costume, en taffetas soufre. Au bas, trois volants en mousseline de soie or, surmontés d'un bouillonné; au-dessous, dents aiguës dessinées par des bouillonnés posés pied contre pied, et remplies par des croisillons en comètes de velours noir.

Matériaux: 6 mètres de taffetas; 6 mètres de mousseline de soie.

(7) Suit petticoat, in sulfur taffeta. At the bottom, three ruffles in gold silk muslin, topped with a swirl; below, sharp teeth drawn by swirls laid foot to foot, and filled with lattices like comets of black velvet.

Materials: 6 yards of taffeta; 6 yards of chiffon.

[braineater444]

To Be A Princess: Fashion Boys

I really think about fashion and aesthetics a lot when writing To Be A Princess and I would like to show you what I Imagine they’re wearing and explain a bit. This post will only include the Haintani brothers and Sanzu because they’re my favorites lol. I do have boards for everyone except Mikey but I’m lazy so??? Ask and you shall receive???

Ran Haitani

Has a complex. Fully thinks he should be a movie star and a prince and everything else good. May actually be a narcissist, but is definitely a sociopath.

He has a rather complex and sad internal world?? And so it manifests in his fashion being a bit emo??? Lots of black and white with little room for color.

It is about being chic for him. He’s tall and thin and he thoroughly enjoys being asked if he’s a model.

He sometimes shops in women’s stores and will pay for clothes he likes out of other peoples closets.

He never fully gave up the gloves. He doesn’t really like touching other people. He’ll do it, but only because he has to.

He knows he has a nice waist and will wear clothes that always effectively show that off.

Tabi enjoyer. Trying (with a little bit of success) to get his little brother into it.

Carries a bag sometimes and that bag carries a gun. Maybe a flask too. He likes to have fun.

He loves designer brands and will wear them with pride.

His jewelry collection is pretty decent and he does buy nice jewelry as gifts as opposed to actually saying “I love you” or marrying any of the people he’s way too old to be leading on.

Has come to terms with the fact that he will most likely be killed as opposed to dying of natural causes, so he dresses like he’s going in the casket at any moment.

Rindou Haitani

Modern day Steel Ball Run sex pot.

He’s weird and so he’s a reverse weeb. His fashion is very American core.

He’s becoming more like his brother in not wearing his glasses, but when he does wear glasses they’re gentle monster.

He takes notes from Ran in his enjoyment of furs, but he likes them to be a little weirder. He likes patterns and strange textures.

Wears straight leg or boot cut jeans to elongate himself because he’s not very tall. Of course, with a heeled boot.

Lots of blue because he misses his blue hair, but matching with his brother is a priority despite being grown as fuck.

He enjoys a nice authentic leather as well as fur because?? He kills people. He doesn’t care about those animals. Cows make great accessories. Srry.

He likes lamb leather even more. It’s so much softer.

Bought a girl a lamb leather bag once and never saw her again. He’s not broken up about it though. Women don’t like him. He’s strange.

He doesn’t wear a lot of jewelry but when he does it’s most likely going to be a ring and it most likely something Ran bought for him to match.

He really loves gold pinky rings. That’s major fashion to him.

He likes tight shirts that show off his pecs.

Thinks about getting a leather holster more often than he should.

Haruchiyo “Sanzu”

Eclectic and free

Wears lots of jewelry to compensate for what he feels like he lacks and because people addicted to drugs wear a lot of jewelry (from what I’ve seen).

He likes color and happiness but often it’s all drowned out.

He doesn’t like when his clothes are too tight. He likes room to move and hates feeling constrained by his clothes.

He doesn’t feel beautiful, so he wears a lot of sparkly things.

He looks at the Haitani brothers and goes “I could do that” and then does something strange instead.

There’s a subtle jealousy of the Haitani brothers and how people flock to and love them. More than anything, he wants to be loved. Especially by Mikey, but… he’s fine being sparkly beside him.

He always needs pockets. He’s got things to hold. Dime bags, guns, a flower he picked and forgot about and now it’s dead.

Some of his clothes are just Ran and Koko’s clothes. Koko usually doesn’t notice until he see’s Sanzu in them.

“Koko, we’re the same size. Just let me keep it.”

When Ran knocked his teeth out, it was Koko’s shirt that he bled all over. And it’s still sitting covered in blood.

He has a tennis bracelet from Ran that he stacks with others all the time.

Sometimes he feels insecure about his face so he’ll wear a mask when doing errands like shopping, but he tries not to.

He’s having fun. He thinks.

[kg-apocalypse-au]

The group of kids sat in a circle, an odd circle. A blonde girl with her hair in two pigtails hopped around, tapping each kid one the head saying "duck." Until she got to a black haired girl, then she yelled "Goose!" Making the other girl get up and chase her.

"Rise and shine!!" A blonde girl, sung in a singsongy voice, spinning around in circles with her blue clothes trailing behind her. She was stood in the middle of the array of beds. The room was a steel room with roughly 20 beds.

"Pennnyyy its too fucking early, me and the hunters have to go out for food." A Latina girl rubbed her eyes together, reaching under her bed and grabbing a fully leather outfit, a knife, and a gun.

A groan was heard from the end of the room, a brunette boy strecthed his arms and got out his bed, "Cmon Carla, we all have alot of jobs today...Also you have an announcement."

The brunette girl rolled her eyes, opening her bedside drawer and putting out an air horn and a brail notepad. 

"CARLA IF YOU FU-" The brunette boy was cut off by a long airhorn sound, waking up the 17 people in the room. 

"RISE AND FUCKING SHINE! GET UP, TODAYS A BIG DAY!" Carla yelled, slamming the "bedroom" door before walking up to get changed in the changing rooms.. well stalls. The base they had for now was an old school. 

Once everyone was ready, they all went into the autidorium. 5 kids total were on stage, leaving 12 on the floor beneath them. 

The boy in a blue and white stripped shirt with some gloves on walked up to the stand. "Todays jobs aree.. Carlas team, weaponry and fighting, go raid more houses, this area was quite rich." The brunette latina on stage, nodded her head. 

"Pennys team, mental and physical health, try and make sure that no one dies today?" The robotic blonde girl nodded energetically. 

"Montys team, research and tech, we need some fixtures on Lilys prosthetic foot, so please work on that." The ginger boy nodded, sat in his chair in the middle of the 4 group leaders.

"Lastly, Emmy, food and water, send your team out for more food and try to get some water." The dark brunette girl smiled and nodded, the flower in her hair wilting away quietly.

"Carla? You had something to say?" Kidd turned back to the girl behind him, dressed in all thick leather and overall extremely "zombie safe" clothes.

"Uh, yeah. This is an announcement from Research and Weaponry.." she scrolled through her notepad finding the "zombie types" page.

"So, me and Mont- the research group- have found out 4 different types of zombies." Carla began, reading out the scripted notes in her small book.

"Firstly, Walkers; harmless, easy to heal bites, basically really easy to get off, just a little stab should do the trick...

Secondly, Runners; Alot more violent and faster than the walkers, need a lot of a violent stabs to get it off, stronger and better. Bites are still easy to heal however.

Thirdly, Thinkers; Not the fastest, but the smartest, they tend to use their wit other than violence to attack you.. yes this is the one that tore out my eye.

Fourth.." Carla felt the notepad, her voice getting caught in her throat due to just explaining why she couldn't see anymore. "Fuck- Monty take over." She threw the notepad on the ground, walking away from the room. 

Monty looked back at her with concern, but began to explain the fourth zombie however, "Clickers.. god this handwriting is awful- They are loud, violent, quick and bites cannot be healed. So then.. dont get bit?" Monty joked, but no one laughed.

"SHUT UP FOUR EYES!" A boy with black and purple hair yelled out, his arms covered in tattoos and the main one being an "A".

"FUCK YOU AUSTIN!"

"FUCK YOU WHEELIE BITCH!"

The two kept arguing, until Austin grabbed the knife out his shoe, and Monty grabbed a lazer gun. As much as everyone wanted to see two 19 year olds fight, they didnt want to clean up any more bodies.

"Okay, Monty go to the bedrooms, and Austin go to the training rooms before you kill eachother." Kidd stood between the two boys, both holding possible murder weapons.

With that, Monty and Austin left, death glaring eachother as the double doors slammed in sync from opposite sides of the room where the two left.

"The tasks for today are on the board, good luck and dont die!" And with that, everyone left the hall, going to wherever they were assigned.

17 young adults stuck in a hell, a million zombies hunting them down.. They survived 5 years, whats another year to them?

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 620, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault, fingering, hand jobs, blow jobs, 69, P in V sex, blood, noncon rape, violence, death, vandalism, graffiti, attempted kidnapping, break-ins, wild animal attacks, terrorist attack (sabotage) consensual impregnation, bareback, impregnation kink, creampies, terrorist attacks (shootings) hit and run pedestrian accident, precipitous labor, neonatal death, abandoned baby, child intoxication, death of a minor character, injured baby, kidnapped child

WORDS: 1312

“Knock knock!” someone called out, before entering the girls’ shared hospital room to reveal Cara from American Girl. She carried two bags, each packed with doll boxes galore.

“Hihi!” Katie beamed excitedly, her eyes on the bags as Cara set them down before taking a seat into a chair. “What do you have there?”

“Prototypes of your dolls and their outfits and accessories!” The corners of Cara’s eyes crinkled pleasantly as she reached down and handed the girl a doll box each.

When they opened them, Elizabeth burst into tears and Katie’s face grew a painful smile.

“She’s so pretty!” Elizabeth blubbered as she took out her mini me and hugged her tightly. The Elizabeth Ratajczyk dollie had light skin, freckles that crossed from one cheek across her nose and spilled onto her other cheek, and a little bald head. She wore an adorable violet and chocolate striped dress with a knee length high-low skirt, puffed sleeves and a dark lilac waist cincher. Her black ballet flats had detachable steampunk themed spats, her wrists wore little lacy gloves and earrings and a necklace decorated her ears and neck.

“I love her!” sniffled Elizabeth.

Katie’s little Katie was dressed casually in jeans, a dark red and hot pink baseball T-shirt and royal blue high tops converses. Her accessories included a beaded bracelet, a backwards baseball cap and a pendant with a Chinese characteristics. The dollie featured a thick neck, a visible tongue in place of buckteeth, and spirally curls in a soft black color.

“Wowee!” Katie gasped gleefully. “She so prettiful!”

Cara next handed them miniature doll boxes, which turned out to be Elle and Jing. Elizabeth’s tears only grew messier while Katie’s beaming grin only grew bigger.

“Jing Jr.!” she proclaimed the tiny dollie with a happy smile. “This is so cool!”

“And now, if I can show you their collections…” Cara pulled out two boxes and handed them to the emotional girls. “This is your renaissance faire collection. Included are chemises, lace up kirtles, buckled slippers, a flower crown for Elizabeth and hair ribbons for Katie, belts, pouches and miniature outfits for Elle Jr. and Jing Jr. The renaissance faire big pieces collection contains of an archery target, a longbow, a recurve bow, two sets of six arrows tipped with purple and red feathers each, two sets of eating ware, fae wings for Katie, stickers for Elizabeth’s head to mimic faux tattoos and traditional faire foods.”

Elizabeth was still crying, summoning me to cross the room and perch on her bed, welcoming her in as she sought of a cuddle with mommy. I cooed  at my daughter softly, wishing that Peter would just hurry up and return from taking the Ratajczyk babies out exploring.

“Are those happy tears or sad tears?” I hummed softly as I wrapped my arm around her and rubbed my hand against her back.

HIC

I pulled away and stared down at the bawling girl, who was now beginning to wildly hiccup.

HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC

“Is she alright?” Cara asked, an amused smile on her face.

HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC

“She’s fine, I think,” I told her, stroking her head with gentle fingers. “She’s just expressing her joy and excitement at being an American Girl doll of the year in her own special way.”

HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC

Just then-

PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT-PAT

HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC

“Incoming!” I laughed as a sudden explosion at the door announced the arrival of the Ratajczyk babies- Baby Tommy, Baby Noah, Baby Eve, Baby Mattie, Baby Teddy and Baby Jojo.

HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC

The happy babies promptly swarmed me and their crying sister, Baby Tommy helping his younger siblings up onto the pushed together beds.

HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC

“And so now your music collection has a standing harp and a Celtic harp for Elizabeth and a piano and a kantele for Katie,” Cara continued speaking as Peter trooped into the hospital room just then. “And also- a music stand, a bench and sheet music for Black No. 1 and other Type O Negative songs including Someday Soon.”

HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC

“Oh, I almost forgot about Someday Soon!” I confessed, tilting my head to smile at my handsome older husband. “Someday Soon was a single that I released back when I was a student at Julliard’s.”

HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC

“Why am I learning that now?” he wondered, pulling a chair over to sit in while staying within easy arms reach of me and his daughters.

HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC

Cara continued to show off prototypes of the girl’s collection- school lockers, bedroom sets, a craft room including a sewing machine and a 3D printing machine, a nursery for Bitty Baby sized Ratajczyk babies and plush sized Daisy, Mittens, Felix, Jack Sparrow and Primrose.

HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC

“BABY BABIES!” Katie screeched joyfully, hugging a little girl dollie.

HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC

Baby Toomy picked up his mini me.

HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC

“Mommy, mesies no lookies like this!” He threw the doll off to the side before pouting and being picked up by his father.

HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC

“Oh Baby Tommy…” Peter chuckled as he rested his chin on top of his son’s head. Baby Eve picked up his dollie and pattered over to me, offering the toy to the great mommy goddess.

HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC

I giggled as I accepted the toy, taking in the baby’s chubby tummy, dark baby curls and sparkling hazel blue eyes.

HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC

“I don’t know Baby Tommy…” I hummed. “Your mini me dollie could be your twin!”

HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC

He scrunched up his face.

HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC HIC

“NONONONO!”

TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@rock-a-noodle

@elianafilthyrose

@ch3rry-c01a

@rockstarslutt

@angelxfuckk

[queenvivi123]

Death Doesn’t Wait

  “You betrayed me.”

Vivid green eyes flashed under my eyelids, despite how much they told me to forget, the question begged to be asked; how could you forget the reason behind your scars?

“It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me

At tea time, everybody agrees

I'll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero”

I woke to Taylor swift playing in the background of what I call my “Bedroom.” Behind the thick curtains were thick bars of steel, like a prison! The fairy lights I had scavenged twinkled faintly and it brightened my mood a bit. A bit. I lived above the stage in Solstice Cinema, a “room” long forgotten. There was a trapdoor, the one I climbed down now to a backroom. Mannequins lined the walls, each in a feathery dress. The room’s paint.. was peeling and its once vibrant color of periwinkle faded down to a dull, lifeless blue. I listened at the door, hoping no one was there. When I determined the coast was clear, I crept through the hallways and out the back door of the theater. I walked toward the Confectioner's Treat, a little late but Ms.Derniar usually didn’t mind. As i walked, my mind wandered to more important things, like my food stock. I was almost out of food, save for a few cupcakes and ramen. I would have to stop by kritanta groceries later.

As I reached Confectioner’s Treat, I saw a cake being loaded into a truck. Its blue icing was midnight-cold, cruel, and dark. Tiny star-shaped sprinkles decorated the first tier of the cake; the bottom of the second tier was decorated with a sparkling white frosting, making flowers that looked like they were made of moonlight. On top there was a little figurine, deathly pale-almost light blue- with eyes beady and dark, framed by luscious blue hair. Corpse Bride. It was silly, really, that I was afraid of a movie character-who wasn’t even the villain. Yet, my breath still caught in my throat. My lungs burned and my chest heaved for air. But none of it mattered to me. Nothing did.

I ran, ran, and ran as fast I could.

The wind pushed against me, blinding and burning against my skin.

Yet, I continued to run.

The one reason I had ran that day was because of one girl.

One girl.

One sister.

One twin.

My other half, the other piece of the puzzle known as ME.

She hadn’t made it out of the madman's house. 

My heart beat, beat, beat.

Slow and steady.

Keeping me calm, calm, calm.

As my eyes fluttered close, burning, burning, burning.

The voice never stopped singing.

I woke with an IV drip in my arm. Screaming, I sat up straight, blinking wearily. In the corner of the white room, with the white walls was a black camera. Its red light blinked and I understood that it had detected my movement. For a moment, nothing happened and I was phenomenally underwhelmed.As my eyes wandered, I noticed a sticker on the IV drip bag. It read, Malnutrition. While I was reading the sticker, a woman showed up. She was Asian, with shiny black hair and chocolate eyes. My eyes traveled to her name card which read ‘Ms. Siwang’. I cleared my throat, realizing that I most likely looked like a rat.

“So,uh, hi?”

“What’s your name, dear?” Oh. So she was one of those Gramma people. Realizing that made my heart ache for my own Grandmother, who if she saw like this, would have done either of these two things: Hug me and hand me one of the infinite chocolates in her purse or slap me with the sole of her shoe for not looking ‘civilliased’. I was so lost in my memories that I hadn’t realized she had asked again.

“Oh! I’m Leandra!” A second after that I realized she could now use my name to trace me back. I shook my head, my long, uncut hair flashing an iridescent red with streaks of copper. Like Mom’s.

“Well, dearie, where do you live?” She questioned. I hesitated. She must have sensed my discomfort, however, because she stopped talking.

Wordlessly, she handed me a bowl of gooey, cheesy mac n cheese. I dug in, the cheese melting in my mouth giving me gooey pleasure. A few minutes later, the bowl was emptY. Dr. Siwang stared at me,  like I was a creature she couldn’t figure out. 

“So, where’s your family?” 

“Um . . .” She looked at me like she had finally figured me out. I stared at her, partially because I wanted her to know that I knew what she thought.And also because I didn't want to seem like a coward. After a long and intense battle(1 minute long), Dr. Siwang left the room after handing me a doughnut on a plate. Weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. Then, she left.

In an unknown amount of time, I woke up in another room, this time laid down on a colorful couch in a colorful room. The walls were a pastel teal and the ceiling a sparkly silver. I sat myself down then just . . . thought. Thought about my life, thought about my sister, thought about everything and everyone that had made me this way. A liar, a cheat, a thief. Completely against my will, a tear slipped out. As if it had been holding them back, a barrage of tears flooded me and I almost had a nice, good sob time. Keyword here: almost.

“There you are,” A military-like voice exclaimed. I turned to see a woman, tall and stiff, wearing a police uniform. Her raven hair was tied into a tight bun and her jaw had a roughness to it that told she could kill me with her words. A frown appeared on her plump lips as she saw the remnants of the tears that oh-so recently flooded my cheeks. She looked disappointed, like I had failed some sort of test.

“Yes, here I am.” Sarcasm inundated my voice and I didn't understand what game I was playing. Her frown was a lot more enunciated and it made me want to laugh. A lot. 

“Sit, Leana.”

“Leandra,” I corrected, annoyance seeping into my tone.

“Okay, Leandra,” Ms. Military sneered. I disliked her immediately. Who sneers at a girl who you most likely knows that girl is homeless?!

Ms. Military seemed to calm herself down, clenching and unclenching her fists. She then motioned for me to sit once more, adding a very stiff, very forced “Please” at the end. I obliged, not wanting to cause too much trouble.

“I saw your records.”

I stiffened. If she knew . . .

“You, according to the files, disappeared two years ago.” It was a statement. Plain, boring, and everything it wasn’t.

So I answered the same way. “Three. He must haven’t noticed.”

“Why’d you leave?”

“Because I was stuck with an alcoholic!” My temper flared and all I wanted was for someone to listen. To understand. Was that too much to ask?

“You were nineteen. You didn’t need a guardian when your parents died.” Wait. What? Nineteen? I had been sixteen when he had moved in. Hadn’t I been?

“N- no . . . I had been sixteen.” My voice stuttered on the words, like it was a death sentence to say them.

“Are you claiming the nurse who oversaw your birth is wrong?” Not an accusation, not an asservation. Just a question. And it meant the world to me. I couldn’t imagine my sweet, sweet mother lying to me. 

I couldn’t process this. 

My brain was whirling, whirling, whirling.

My heart held still, as if a ghost might appear and start explaining.

Everything.

This was too much. 

My whole life was a lie.

We hadn’t had to live there.

I woke with a headache. It was like someone combined a hammer and pendulum and decided to test it in my head.I groaned, holding my head in my hands.

Waking up in a police office was disorienting.I’m guessing it was the chief police officer’s office as it was a separated room altogether. It had baby blue walls with the police logo painted onto one of those walls, shiny and sleek, it almost looked official enough for me to trust the police. Almost.

A man sat in a chair, his back facing me. He must have heard me snort, however, and so he turned.

“Hi,” he said and it sounded so casual, so nonchalant, so normal.

“Hi,” I whispered. My voice was still scratchy and he must have picked up on that because he handed me a glass of water right after I said that. Drinking water was like heaven: something I didn’t deserve.

“You mentioned something in your sleep,” He started, “Most of it was nonsensical, but something you said mentioned a sister.” He hesitated on this last part, as if he was unsure of what to make of this.

“Yeah, I mentioned my sister. STuck in an alcoholic's house or did you forget?” 

“The files don’t mention a sister,” Honestly, my life has been so messed up that this time around i wasn’t even surprised anymore.

“We ran tests. You weren’t hallucinating.” A simple statement, yet it signified he believed me which meant everything. 

“Do you know where exactly your uncle lives?” I shuddered. Forgetting was one of the most impossible things in my life, nothing worked. 

“Y-yeah,” My voice is shaky, but strong.

“Take us there.” three simple words, yet they would change my life. 

The sun dipped low into the crescent of the shattered roof of my uncle’s house. It had almost been a week before the man-whose name was Mr. Tuproamor, weird, I know- had reached out to take me to the house. Taking a deep breath to steady myself and calm my shaky nerves, I stepped over the threshold. The inside was just how it’d been before, except maybe a bit more rusty without my careful care. I did a 360 spin, taking in the sights-and not in a good way. The wall’s wallpaper was peeling and the wood behind it seemed rotted, and the flickering lights only added to the effect of a creepy haunted house. I saw the staircase 'ss railing falling apart and the stairs creaky and ants crawled across it, giving me a horrible feeling.

One will live and the other will die

Who was that? Oh, right, my inner depression! Anyhoo, I raced up the stairs and turned left. Right before I had reached the door to Hanna and I’s former bedroom, I saw the blood. A ragged crack ran through the door, like many others caused by my uncle, but this one was different. Blood coated the rims of it and the metallic smell made me want to throw up. You could tell it was recent.

I raced into the room, scratching my arm on the way in, but I didn't care. Not with the sight in front of me. My sister’s bloody head  was smashed against the wood, as if someone had pushed her down there. 

But I couldn’t find words to describe her pale, incredibly still body.

Mindless Tears fell down my cheeks and I rushed to her side, falling down on my knees.

She had saved me that fateful dawn, she had saved me

And now I couldn’t save her

I couldn’t handle this

I couldn’t

All the unanswered questions that had been living in my head faded into the shadows

I could hear the sound of my heart breaking, shattering like glass

Even as I closed my eyes, I could still see it, still see HER

Once vivid, now lifeless green eyes burned my eyelids 

As Everything

Went Dark.

[stingslikeabee]

“I have changed over time. That’s what people do. People aren’t stagnant. We evolve in reaction to our pleasures and our pains.”

unscripted asks . always accepting

Ever since Melissa was but a child, she had dreamed about sunshine and the sea; perhaps it was because of the ever-looming plate structure and the suffocating notion a girl like herself felt when trapped under not only just steel and concrete, but the dispassion of an absent father or the iron-like rule of Corneo. The idea of the beach was a fantasy - very much like freedom.

As the fragile flower blossomed into the queen of a gilded cage, not much changed in relation to such ideals. Sure, she knew that getting to the coast was not as impossible as it had once been - but Melissa lacked the authorizations, the means to be extracted from the slums safely and to ensure that her girls would be well looked after if she somehow managed to get away. After all, what stopped Corneo from seizing control and harming the most precious things she had?

But nothing had prepared the madame for what life had in store - from the moment where she was forced to house an auction for Rufus Shinra to being a witness to how that same man personally destroyed a creation so vile that could have taken more innocent lives than they ever dreamed, Melissa had frankly gone through all the spectrum with the heir to an empire. For someone who supposedly was supportive of second chances and blank slates - or so every girl coming to the Honey Bee Inn could claim - the madame took her time to apply the same benefit to Rufus.

With Corneo no longer being a threat, Melissa did not need to physically remain at the inn at all times; in a long time since what felt forever - there was a time to step back, inhale deeply and relax. Next to Rufus Shinra, her authority was reduced to something symbolic only - if anything, it fell to him to protect his companion and that role reversal was strangely... Comforting.

Even more so when it came with a view, with the ocean waves moving back and forth as if nothing could disturb their gentle rhythm. Not the deranged plans of over-ambitious scientists or greedy politicians; even less so the twists and turns of people with a legacy attached to their name or those disposing of it altogether in view of the memories they carried.

It was Melissa's first time at Costa del Sol and it was hard for the madame to think of a moment where she had felt more alive - not even their little Kalm trips compared.

And it showed in how endlessly fascinated she looked - at the landscape, the beach resort facilities or the impossibly long days. It was pretty much like a dream while being real, even more so when she was able to shift into summer dresses instead of cocktail ones, to wear sunglasses for a change and appreciate the unique, salty scent of the ocean that nothing could describe except for firsthand experience.

"I never thought someone named Shinra would make one of my dreams come true," Melissa remarked with an amused edge to her voice, partially bent over the balcony and using a folded arm and open palm as the resting place for her head. It would be almost impossible to draw her attention from the scenery - but a chuckle from the man occupying a chair next to her did just that.

“I have changed over time. That’s what people do," Rufus replied calmly, eyes of icy blue looking warmer under the glow of sunset. Or perhaps that was just really a figment of Melissa's imagination, although the man's words were precisely proving her insistence on painting Shinras under a bad light to be widely incorrect, "People aren’t stagnant. We evolve in reaction to our pleasures and our pains.”

The brunette ended up turning to face him - ignoring all that held her attention to just gaze at Rufus with open wonder. A gentle provocation, an amused retort, a joke - many were the possibilities for Rufus' declaration, particularly after everything that had faced together; but for once, Melissa decided she did not care to further label or elaborate on that.

Whatever this was - it was good; she was going to embrace it.

"...That we do. I just never pictured you as some sort of wish-granter. Perhaps I should adjust my expectations accordingly," the madame chuckled, leaving the support of the balcony railings to approach the chair and lower herself to the his eye level. Rufus did not move a muscle in response; if anything, he only looked at her with interest in the next move of that dance.

"In that case, Rufus, I have been informed by the hotel staff that Costan Christmas is different. The eve of the 24th is what matters and they are preparing a feast for midnight. Since we are here..." the madame paused, smiling at him next - and just the type he had seen Melissa using on many others before; a curve of lips that was the predecessor to a plea (or an order) which she would not rest until it was fulfilled.

"I think it would be in poor taste for either of us to miss it, and I would hate to be all by myself downstairs," a slightly dramatic sigh followed, but Melissa's ask was genuine, "It's the season to be grateful for - and I am grateful to be here," the woman explained, a hand moving to find his - just enough for a light press there, as a physical affirmation of the words that followed.

"With you."