the-dalseum-duet

[the-dalseum-duet]

the last shebang before Another Overhaul

I’ve wanted to do something like this for a minute just for the sillies. so here we go. this was meant to be shorter but I really enjoy writing casual Trader Joe’s I think they bounce off of each other really well despite being so different @svwhssftr

“I still have a horrible feeling about this,” Strike grumbled, hesitantly knocking on the crimson door of her home for the next week. 

“Trust me, you’ll get over it,” Crow said. “Being alone in the middle of the woods is calming, from my experience. I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Yeah, because you’re that kind of person. Mako and Gale are not that kind of people.”

“They’re newly married gay men in their late 20s. The weird outdoorsy lifestyle switch was coming whether you liked it or not.”

“Still, you’d think they would take up Pilates or pickleball or something instead.”

“Or making kombucha."

“Right, some new age spirituality shit seems right up their alley. Not poison ivy and ticks.”

“You made it!” Mako exclaimed as he swung open the door, trapping Strike in an uncomfortably tight hug. 

“No! Do not—no touching.” Strike firmly said, weaseling from his grasp. 

“She’s been trapped in a car for the past few hours. She needs freedom,” Crow explained. 

“And you look fantastic,” Mako said, shifting his awkward half-hug over to Crow. “Your voice is so much deeper than last time we saw each other. How long has it been since you started T?”

“Around a year,” Crow answered, oh-so-casually flexing the vaguely defined “muscles” on his arms uncovered by his oversized black wifebeater. 

“Stop acting like you’re buff. Those are just veins and a semblance of structure,” Strike scoffed. 

“It’s cool, though!”

“It’s embarrassing on my behalf.”

“Sorry that not everyone can bench… however much you can bench.”

“I’ve invited you to join me at the gym multiple times. It wouldn’t be hard for you to start.” Strike swung open the fridge and treated herself to a crisp can of Dr. Pepper, which she had specifically requested to be prepared before she arrived.

“Gym bros scare me. I’d freeze in fear.”

Strike rolled her eyes as she wiped her bottom lip. “Where’s Gale? I assume he’s not outside. I can’t see him doing that willingly.”

“Oh, he’s setting a few things up downstairs for us,” Mako casually said. “He should be upstairs soon.”

“Setting up what?” Crow asked, unaware of the Pandora’s box he had unleashed. 

Mako pursed his lips and cocked his head. “Did you two happen to look into this place at all?”

“Not really. We just trusted you two were more fancy than we normally are,” Strike said. 

“Oh,” Mako hummed. “I sent you a link to the listing, and you said it looked nice.”

“You did?” Crow asked. 

“Yes, I vividly remember it. You can go back through our messages.”

“Crow has a history of pretending to pay attention to people,” Strike said. “Don’t get offended by it.”

“I’m not offended—it’s just important that you know what you’re getting yourselves into when you agree to something like this.”

“Please tell me this isn’t—“ Crow started, burying his head in his hands as he sat on a barstool. 

“You know how I said this was a cabin made specifically for two couples?” Mako awkwardly laughed.

“It’s a weird sex thing, isn’t it?” Crow dropped his fist onto the marble countertop.

“Oh, great.” Strike blinked, her face stoic. 

“I trust you’ll explore the amenities yourselves. Don’t worry, it’s all soundproofed and entirely isolated from our side.”

“You think I’m using public sex paraphernalia? Do I look like I want a yeast infection?” Crow asked.

“You don’t have to use those. Nobody is forcing you,” Mako said. 

“Why did you think we were the target audience for this?” Strike asked, halfway offended. 

As if on cue, Gale cheerfully emerged from the stairway. “Babe, the cage is set up!”

“The what?”  Crow’s eyes widened. 

“Oh, my God.” Strike nearly crushed the aluminum can in her hand. 

“Yeah, there’s more than, like, sex toys and stuff, there’s plenty of BDSM gear that could easily be cleaned. We brought extra cleaning supplies,” Mako calmly said. 

“Are you into this kinda shit?” Strike whispered, leaning over to Crow.

“Absolutely not,” Crow immediately responded. 

“Did you happen to plan anything else for this trip?” Strike asked, the uncomfortable smile on her face straining.

“Why the hell would we?” Gale laughed. “We aren’t paying $350 a night for nothing.”

“$350 a night?” Crow repeated. “To fuck? Can’t you do that on your own time for free?” 

“Just go downstairs. See it for yourself,” Mako said. “You’re self-proclaimed freaks, aren’t you?”

“We underestimated what ‘freak’ meant,” Crow admitted.

“Yeah, I fisted him once, but that’s about as far as we’re pushing it,” Strike said. 

“You didn’t have to share that,” Crow murmured. 

“It felt relevant.” 

“Well, now’s your time to explore further,” Gale said. “You won’t have to worry about anyone barging in on you or judging you. You’re safe here.”

“I’m in a BDSM cabin in the middle of the woods with my brother. This is the least safe I have ever felt,” Strike said.

“Just go look,” Mako sighed. “You’ll find something to keep yourselves entertained, even if it is laughing at it. Neither of you can indulge in anything without it being ironic.”

“I love making fun of shit,” Crow said, dull eyes partially glinting. 

“Me too, bitch, let’s go.” Strike quickly rounded the corner to a comically long stairway lit by flameless candles, and Crow eagerly followed. 

“They’re committed to the ambience,” Crow noted.

“But couldn’t even buy real candles?”

“Are you itching for a house fire while you’re getting your freak on?”

“Good point.” Strike slowly slid the door behind them shut. 

“Can they hear us now?” Crow asked. 

“No, probably not.”

“What the fuck?”

“Yeah, what the hell is this about?”

“You were right about them not being the outdoorsy type of late-20s gay.”

“But the BDSM culture type is so much worse.”

“Why are they so casual about it, dude?”

“I don’t know! I don’t want to know!”

“A fuckin’ cage?”

“How is that even enjoyable? What positions can you even do in there?”

“See, this is why we’re compatible. We’re both claustrophobic.”

“Yeah, enclosed sex sounds fuckin’ horrid.”

“Exactly.”

“Oh, and why the hell didn’t you look at the listing he sent you?”

“I got busy!”

“Whatever. We’re here now. Nothing we can do to change it.” Strike’s Docs hit polished hardwood as they entered their bedroom—a lavish, spacious room with a comically large television, a California King on a rotating platform, and a mirror above the bed. Various harnesses, ropes, chains, and whips were displayed on the walls above a rather spacious cuck chair and the infamous cage. 

“That’s a really small sex cage,” Crow observed. 

“That bed looks so fuckin’ comfortable, though. Sleep tonight might be better than sex.”

“Mhm. Holy shit, is that a VHS player?” Crow’s exhausted eyes sparked awake as he crouched by the dust-covered machine. 

“Of course there’s something old for him to geek out about in the sex dungeon,” Strike flatly said.

“I can’t believe they keep this in here,” Crow gasped, thumbing through a box of explicit VHS tapes. “This is a corny 80s goldmine—a time capsule from the era.”

“Do you want to watch bad heterosexual 80s porn?”

“Have you met me?” Crow was already in the progress of rewinding a tape. “This one’s called ‘Dirty Blondie’s First Orgy.’ Looks intriguing.”

“Sounds invigorating.” Strike unbuttoned her pants as she stretched her shoulders. “You seen the showers yet? I need one.”

“Should be through the beaded curtain. I hope.”

“That doesn’t seem like it conserves much heat.” Strike pried back the iridescent beads to reveal a wide-open space with an indented tile floor, the shower head and knob just within her reach. 

“Yeah, that doesn’t seem economical.”

“The bills for this place have to be insane.”

“Oh, for sure.” 

Strike narrowed her eyes as she turned to Crow. “I mean, it’s made for two if you want to shower together. Conserve the heat.” 

“Hold on, I’m looking through these tapes.” 

“I’m asking you if you want to fuck, Crow.”

“But the tapes.” 

“A very attractive woman is offering her body to you.”

“I can fuck you whenever I want. These are exclusive to here.” 

“‘Date the autistic guy,’ they said,” Strike muttered. “‘He’ll understand you,’ they said.”

“We can fuck afterwards! We have plenty of time to do so.” 

“I’ll hold you to that promise.”

“I sure hope so.”

Strike closed the curtain and kicked her clothes out to the main floor.  “Shit, they have nice body wash here.”

“They better for $350 a night.” Crow booted up the VHS player and the red power light timidly flickered to life. 

The subtle patter of water seeped from the curtain. “But the water pressure is shit. Hold on, let me try to fix it—fuck!”

Metal clamored across the tile as water pooled from beneath the beads, inching toward her pile of clothes. 

“What did you do?” Crow laughed. 

“The head unhinged ridiculously easily. I got it back up, though.” 

“I’ll find a towel,” Crow said, scanning the room for any sign of an actual bathroom. 

“This place is horribly designed.”

“You can say that again.” Crow wandered deeper into the lair, an uneasy feeling settling into his stomach as he passed suspiciously realistic mounted dildos larger than his forearm. “Eugh, nasty.” 

“This actually isn’t too bad. The open shower plan is starting to grow on me.”

“Oh, they have strap harnesses. They look cheap, though, yours is a lot nicer,” Crow pointed out. 

“I didn’t bring it under the assumption this wasn’t a sex-related venture.” 

“Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I’m not a big fan of the strap.”

“Seriously? I thought you loved it.”

“Sometimes it’s fun, but I really need to be in the mood for it, y’know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” 

“I don’t understand how you like dicks. They’re so unappealing.”

“You’re the one growing one!”

“Yeah, a tiny fake one. It’s not gross and massive and veiny. It’s just my clit.”

“I should let you strap me sometime.”

“Girl, I do not have the stamina for that.” 

“I could ride it for you,” Strike hummed, her attempts at seduction falling flat. 

“You’d crush me.”

“Why are you so anti-penetration? It feels good.”

“It hurts!” Crow winced as he fumbled with a golden knob leading to an admittedly bland bathroom. 

“Not if you do it right.” 

“You can penetrate yourself all day, for all I care,” Crow sighed, yanking a towel from the counter. “It’s not my gig.”

“But it’s so cool. You’re so tiny I can see it inside you, it’s fuckin’ sick.” 

“You can understand why that would be painful, then.”

“I guess,” Strike huffed. Crow kicked the towel beneath his feet and scrubbed the excess water from the floor.

“Water is up.” Crow wadded the towel into a ball and inched it beside the bed as Strike turned off the shower. 

“Oh no!” Strike dramatically gasped, feigning a transatlantic accent. “I forgot to bring a change of clothes with me. However will my darling boyfriend resist me as I waltz out of the shower unclothed?”

“Don’t go into acting.”

“Not even porn?”

“Especially not porn.”

“Boo.” Strike slung the curtains back to glare at Crow, his body comedically small on the California King sized bed. He held the VHS remote in hand, his smug expression a little too eager. 

“I have it rewound and ready.”

“It better be horrible.” Strike climbed next to him and pulled the sheets over her damp skin.

“Oh, best believe it will be,” Crow said, crossing his legs as he rested his head on her warm shoulder. “The actress on the cover had makeup that washed her out entirely, which would have been accurate for the time period if she was like, goth or something, but from the looks of it—“

“Oh, fuck!”

“Did the tape already start?” Strike asked. 

“No, I don’t know what that was,” Crow responded. “The walls should be—“

“Fuck, Mako!”

Strike’s face dropped. “They’re not.”

“Starting the tape.” Crow rapidly pressed play.

“Full volume?”

“Full volume.”

[the-dalseum-duet]

yaoi!!? on MY yuri blog???!!!!

don’t worry horny Trader Joe’s mention it’s fine. but some good old dalsmp revival @svwhssftr

too lazy for a banner imagine one yourself

“Don't go into Adam and Sonnet's base," Mako had said. “They're red lives now. They’ll kill you on sight.

But Gale was determined to get his weapons enchanted, and they were the only players on the server who had access to an enchanting table. Surely, they would still be friendly. After all, they had just married the two. Gale did not, however, feel any friendliness as he ducked through endless canopies of cherry blossom blooms and announced his presence to Adam and Sonnet's unsettlingly claustrophobic base.

"Hello!" Gale called in his chipper British accent. "Is anyone here?"

Gale was hoping for no response. Instead, an equally enthused “We're here!" echoed from a low-lit balcony above him. As Gale's eyes lifted, he witnessed the glint of a silver pickaxe grasped tightly in Adam's clutches, his fishnets torn and his eyes glittering with a hunger for blood. Sonnet sat perched at a crafting table next to him, meticulously stringing together a cluster of ender pearls.

"Oh, lovely," Gale said. "Just lovely to see you two; you both look great for red lives.”

The two exchanged a knowing glance. Sonnet’s lips turned to form a grin. 

“I was wondering if I could use your enchanting table?” he asked. “I'd be willing to trade emeralds and food for its use. We have an abundance of fish.”

"Oh, sure," Sonnet said, tilting their head as they elegantly leaned back and kicked a switch to reveal a hidden library made of vine-ridden dark oak. In the center of it was a glistening table draped with a crimson red cloth. A leather book lay buckled shut in the very center, emanating an ominous glow. 

“Really?” Gale asked, gently flapping his oversized wings. “That’s it?”

“That’s it. No strings attached.” Adam sharply smiled as he tore a book from the dust-covered shelves and thumbed through it. As Gale hesitantly approached the staircase, Adam slammed it shut. 

“You know, nightingales have been a powerful symbol in literature dating back to the Odyssey.” His fingertips traced the edge of his pickaxe. “They’re messengers known for their beautiful songs all across the world.”

Gale slowly retreated, angling his wings to shield himself. “Once I think about it—“

But it was too late. Sonnet strung an enchanted bow and launched an arrow through Gale’s wingtip. He shrieked as it pierced his feathers and warm blood soaked his tawny down. As he scrambled for the exit, Adam strategically tossed one of his partner’s ender pearls behind Gale and barred the doors with his pickaxe. 

“But they’re not very clever,” Adam continued. “They often don’t detect danger, even when they’re in the midst of it. You live up to your namesake, Porter.”

Gale opened his mouth to rebut his claim, but no sound came out–minus a frankly embarrassing wince. He retracted his injured wing, a burning sensation creeping through it. His wide eyes met Sonnet’s focused stare, their fingers grasped around their bow and arrow. They pulled back the string, the luminous head pointing straight at his heart. A flame danced around their fingertips, its light glinting in their vicious gap-toothed smile. 

“Your precious husband can’t save you this time, little bird,” Adam hissed, reveling in Gale’s distress. 

But by a miracle of the almighty ocean god himself, a beam of light pierced through the dimly lit base from the heavens. Indeed, it was Mako, diamond pickaxe in hand and waving down from the roof. 

“Mako!” Gale exclaimed, his wings stretching to greet him. 

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Adam said, his voice switching from angsty theatre kid to mildly annoyed valley girl. Sonnet released their arrow to strike Mako, but he deftly dodged it before reaching out his hand to Gale. 

“I knew exactly where you were when I took the damage,” Mako said. “I told you not to come here!”

“I thought they would be friendly!” Gale exclaimed, anxiously eyeing Adam as he met his partner and examined their arsenal. 

“Just fly up here. We can’t waste any more time.” 

“But my wing is hurt!”

“You either fly with a hurt wing or we both die, babe. I’d pick the first one.” 

Gale’s eyes rapidly oscillated between Mako’s outstretched hand and the flashy duo plotting his demise. He chose to trust Mako and stretched his wings, awkwardly hopping as a sharp sting crackled across his back. He contracted his wings as Mako lifted him to safety, successfully freeing the pair from certain death. Mako rapidly replaced the stones he knocked loose. 

“I can’t fly us back to the base like this,” Gale sighed. “I could barely get myself up to you.” 

“Don’t worry. I made myself useful while you were away.” Mako elegantly slid down their angled roof to reveal a magnificent black horse awaiting them. 

“Where did you find him?” Gale gasped, inching closer to admire his violet and red saddle. 

“Sara and Marie traded him for some glow ink and fish. They have their own stables now.”

“We should leave now. They’re probably about to come—“

The worn cherry blossom door creaked. Mako hoisted himself onto the saddle and clutched the reins, his terrified stare commanding Gale to do the same. They raced off into the woods surrounding the house, Gale clutching his throbbing wing.

“The base isn’t far,” Mako explained. “Turns out we’re right through this forest. We have been this entire time.”

“Let’s hope they don’t realize that,” Gale said. 

“They wouldn’t get through the first floor. Crow taught me how to set some traps.”

“Why do we trust Crow?”

“I don’t. I figured we could always just fly instead of going up the stairs, but—“

“Do we at least have a ladder?”

“We’ll figure something out.”

“Damn it.” 

The towering stone bricks of Fangstitch Keep faded into view, the crystalline turquoise windows casting a cool shadow on the grass surrounding it. Mako led the horse into a shaded stable and tied its lead around a cobblestone fence. 

“I have some extra wood in my inventory,” Mako said. “I could probably make a ladder to get myself to the second floor, and I could make a safe entrance from there.”

“Be careful,” Gale murmured. “We’re on, what, eight hearts? If Crow rigged it, then we’re going to be red lives.”

“I’ll be careful,” Mako said, in a tone that implied he would do anything but.

“Hold on,” Gale huffed. “Do you have any eggs on you?”

“Eggs?”

“Yeah. I have a few, but I don’t know if it will be enough.”

“The hell are you going to do with eggs?”

“Trust me. What did Crow tell you about the traps he set?”

“The safe path is marked with redstone. The fact that he marked it with redstone makes me think he deliberately lied.”

“He’s not stupid enough to do that. Give me one second.” Gale switched the lever to open their rusted copper door and knelt down beneath the vines curtaining the entrance. He cracked open his eggs until a chicken spawned, and it flailed around until its wiry talons slid across the redstone dust. A hiss pierced through the humid air, and Gale instinctively spread his wings to fly away. He shrieked once he registered the pain coursing through his nerves, but not before the entire bottom story of Fangstitch Keep exploded into rubble. 

“That bitch!” Mako exclaimed, brushing stray specks of crushed stone off his thin nose. “Thankfully we didn’t go inside. That’s fucking ridiculous.”

“He was that stupid,” Gale concluded, coming to a turbulent landing as his knees nearly buckled. 

“Do you think that was it?”

“I doubt he had time for much more.”

“We can rebuild it later. Fixing your wing is the top priority.”

“The sun’s about to set,” Gale said, tilting his head as he attempted to piece together how they could make it to the second story.

“I’ll just replace the old ladder for now. Place some torches to make sure mobs don’t spawn down here.”

“I’m two steps ahead of you.” Gale artfully placed his remaining torches around the perimeter, biting his bottom lip as he examined his ruined architecture. Mako, sensing his disappointment, wrapped his arm around Gale’s shoulders.

“I’ll take care of your wing, then we’ll go straight to bed, okay? We can deal with Crow later.”

“Let’s hope they take out Sonnet and Adam. Or vice-versa. We just need one of them gone.” 

“Don’t worry about that. We’re safe for now.” Mako deftly climbed up the ladder to reach the grand staircase, and Gale followed closely behind. They stopped at the highest story–their shared room. 

“I don’t think my wing is too bad,” Gale said. “It was just an arrowhead through my down feathers. It didn’t do much damage.”

“There’s mutton in the furnace if you want it,” Mako said. “I’ll take care of it. I have an extra potion of healing left from our wedding gifts.”

“I miss when Sonnet and Adam were nice to us.” Gale stretched his wings across their bed, letting himself breathe for the first time that day.

“We knew that was going to be short-lived, though. We can only trust each other.”

“Yeah,” Gale sighed. “I guess so.”

“Sit up for me.” Mako shook the potion like it was a can of spray paint. Gale was unsure if that was a good idea, but he was too tired to protest. He sat up straight and relaxed his wings. A wave of relief warmed his wings as Mako dabbed the liquid onto his wound. He instinctively chirped. Mako laughed.

“Did that feel good?” Mako chuckled.

“It’s uncontrollable. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Your sounds are pretty.”

“Okay,” Gale timidly said, attempting to shield his face with his free wing.

“Crow’s chirps are annoying. I like songbirds a lot, though. They’re like bells.”

“Yeah. They kind of happen on their own, though. I can’t do them on command.”

“Your wings are really soft,” Mako said, brushing his face against them. He petted underneath his feathers, and Gale loudly trilled.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“Stop apologizing. I like it when you sing.”

“You don’t know.”

“I don’t know what?”

Gale buried his face in his other wing. “Usually, pruning wings is a mating behavior. I can’t help it. It just–”

“Does me fixing your wings turn you on? That’s fine. That’s not weird at all, actually, I like doing this.”

“It’s embarrassing!”

“Don’t be embarrassed. I want to fuck you. I feel like I’ve made that pretty obvious.”

Mako dug his claw-like fingers back into his wings, and Gale attempted to stifle his call into his pillow. He wasn’t sure if his flusteredness was biological or if it was rooted in someone as drop-dead gorgeous as Mako deliberately stating that he wanted to fuck him.

“So, is that, like, a mating call?”

Gale didn’t reply. He just kept his red-hot face buried in his pillow. Mako continued fluffing out his wings, lightly kissing his sensitive inner corners.

“So it is a mating call? Judging by the lack of protest.”

“Yes,” Gale groaned.

“Do it again for me.” He fluffed out the feathers near Gale’s neck, and he softly replied. “I wasn’t anticipating this to work so well on me, considering I’m not a bird.” 

“Don’t try to roleplay your way through this—I know that’s not how mating calls work. It’s only embarrassing on your end, frankly.”

“Telling me that while you’re physically screaming at me to fuck you is a bit counterintuitive, don’t you think?”

“I’m not an animal, Mako, I can control my biological impulses.”

“Ah, but where’s the fun in that?”

“I’m injured. Rigorous fucking does not sound appealing currently.” 

“Who says it would have to be rigorous?”

“You’re a shark, for heaven’s sake! Big, predatory creatures have a bit of a reputation for not being gentle.”

 “Like you said, I can control my biological impulses.” 

“But where’s the fun in that?” Gale playfully swatted Mako’s hand away with his wing. 

“Ooh, is the bird boy kinkier than he lets on?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Gale scoffed.

“I assumed there was something hidden beneath your unwavering family-friendly persona.”

“My personal and professional lives are entirely unrelated.” 

“I’ve heard Crow go on numerous rampages about what he wants my sister to do to him when it’s mating season—trust me, I know what birds like.” 

“We’re not a monolith, you know.”

“Yeah, you have much better taste in sexual partners. And you’re so much cuter than he is.”

Gale, for some odd reason, was more flustered by that comment than any of the others before it. “Oh, stop it!”

“You know I have two, right?”

Gale paused. “Two? Two of—“

“Penises.”

“God,” Gale seethed into his pillow, his face still reddening. “You didn’t start with this information?”

“Thought it would be better to surprise you.” Mako shrugged. “I don’t see how they could be useful, though, considering you only have one hole. I doubt that would be enjoyable for either of us.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“No, the friction would suck so bad—“

“About the ‘one hole’ part.” 

“Huh?”

“You know, male birds have cloacas, too.”

“Is it even pleasurable to be fucked in a cloaca?”

“We won’t know unless we try.” Gale flipped himself over and grinned at Mako, who still had him pinned by his wings. It was Mako’s turn to uncontrollably blush. 

“Your wing feeling better?” Mako stammered. 

“Better than ever.” 

“Do you want to?”

“You’ve been teasing me for the past twenty fucking minutes, yes, I want to.”

“Awesome,” Mako awkwardly said, honestly unsure of what to do in that situation.

Gale glanced down at Mako’s shorts. “Oh, I can see both of them! How did I never pick up on that?”

“Hey! No peeking allowed.”

“They were staring straight at me!”

“Just take your fucking clothes off. I don’t have the patience for this.”

“Thank you. Neither do I.”

A notification appeared. “ivyrogue and velvetbunny were slain by crowscacophany and WinterMoon.”

“Holy shit,” Mako gasped. 

“We’re in the final three,” Gale laughed. 

“I forgot we were fighting to the death here,” Mako said. “I was just about to fuck you. I entirely forgot about the whole death game thing.”

“We’re safe up here for now,” Gale whispered, attempting to pull him in closer. 

“And Crow and Noeul won’t come after us. We’re still yellow lives. Marie and Sara are a much easier target.”

“Exactly.”

“So we should fuck?”

“So we should fuck.”

“I mean, when else are we going to do this?”

“Right, when will we find the time?”

“Okay. Get naked.”

“Very suave, Mako.”

“I don’t have time to be suave. Do you know how painful double prolonged erections are?”

“Do you know how painful it is to have a very charming man rile up your wings for twenty minutes?” Gale skillfully unbuttoned his ruffly top. 

“About as painful as this, I’d say.” Mako pulled Gale closer to him by his belt as he softly kissed his lips and unbuckled his clamoring Victorian disaster of a belt. 

“That’s not as painful,” Gale softly laughed. 

“Yeah, let’s keep it that way.” Mako swept him away with one last fleeting kiss.

And then I legally can’t say any more. You get the picture.

[the-dalseum-duet]

driving in my caaar right after a beeeer

only a lesbian could turn a stupid Deltarune joke into doomed yuri angst. fuck you @svwhssftr

also new sham border wahoo. happy ending au? even though that defeats the purpose of sham it doesn’t matter this is abt kai hitting crow with his fucking car

“Is everything a fucking joke to you?” Strike exclaimed, dropping her shoulder to slam Crow’s tote bag of assorted belongings onto the Shiroganes’ front porch.

“I’m sorry if I didn’t think this was a serious issue!” Crow responded, his voice steady but his fingers fidgeting with the kandi around his wrists. “You never once acted like this would be a dealbreaker. You didn’t care for how long, again?”

“I’m exhausted with you acting like your entire life’s one big standup routine. This isn’t cute, Jo. There is no audience to applaud your dumbassery.”

“God forbid I have a personality, I guess.”

“Your entire personality is a lack of self-awareness. I can’t deal with this shit anymore. You are so immature.”

“I’m immature? I’m not the one throwing her boyfriend out for acting the same exact way he has since we met!”

Strike slammed the door shut and inched closer to him, her quick steps pushing him down the brick stairs. “That’s my point exactly! Your carefree attitude works for a minute, but once I get serious, I expect you to reciprocate.” 

“Since when were we serious? We agreed this was casual!”

“What about us was casual?” she screamed. “You are the only guy I’ve let get this close to me. I’ve told you every-fucking-thing about me, we talked about our future together, I tell my family all about us—my dad fucking loves you! He thinks you’re a good guy! Do you know how fucking hard that is?”

“I am a good guy!” Crow argued, his soles slipping as he stepped from the concrete walkway into the lawn. “Forgive me for holding you to what started our entire relationship. Do you know how fucking impossible it is to read how you feel?”

“It should have been pretty damn obvious that I was genuinely happy with you.”

“That doesn’t mean you didn’t want us to be casual.”

“There were a million fucking signs. I’m sorry I didn’t spell out word-for-word to you what our relationship was. I’m sorry I didn’t fucking baby you through a relationship between two adults. You cannot be as fucking stupid as you make yourself out to be.” 

Crow bit his bottom lip. “You act like I have any control over my reading of social cues. I’ve never been in a relationship like this before—I’ve never had a relationship period—“

“Yeah, I wonder why.”

“Damn it, let me speak!”

Strike blinked, admittedly taken aback by his sudden assertiveness.

“I’m not exactly all there emotionally, and you should know that by now. I thought you understood that. I thought we understood each other.”

“I’m not a mind-reader, Crow,” she said. 

“Neither am I. So, I’m sorry if I misunderstood what a serious relationship was. I thought someone interested in a serious relationship would initiate more than thoughtless sex with me.”

Strike’s face lifted. “What?”

“Don’t act like you ever wanted anything more from me than my body. You can admit it. I’m not offended by that.” 

“Of course, I didn’t—“

“You can go back through all of our messages if you want. The only things you’ve wanted from me have been sex and the occasional date or whatever that would inevitably lead to it.”

“Our feelings were mutual about that. You clearly liked it.”

“Yeah, I did! I didn’t mind being in that sort of relationship with you because that was clearly what we both wanted to do. At least I thought so.”

“So, what are you saying? You only used me for sex, too?”

“No. If I wanted a sex toy, I’d fucking buy one. I liked you, Strike. I loved everything about you, but I just assumed you didn’t care about me as much. You’ve just confirmed it now.”

“Your argument makes no sense, then. Obviously, I wanted more than sex out of you. That’s why I wanted you to take me seriously.”

“What else did you want, then? Because it clearly wasn’t my personality.” 

Strike pursed her lips and stared him up and down, racking her brain for an answer. He softly laughed. 

“God, I was right,” he whispered. “I knew better than to do this—to let myself get attached to you.” 

“I wasn’t using you for your body,” Strike stammered, her brain fuzzy with static. 

“You’ve said more than enough. We’re done. I’m going home.” Crow’s voice broke as he stepped backwards, slinging his bag over his shoulder and lifting his cane. “Tell Mako he was right about everything.”

“The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Crow backed into the road in front of the house. “He was right—you’re nothing but an unstable bitch and I don’t have enough self-esteem to see through what you said to me. God, to think I believed you! Seriously, what about me is good for anything?” 

“Crow!” Strike screamed, her eyes widening.

“Oh, now that I’ve called you out, you’re taking it back?”

“Turn around!”

“Huh? Oh, fuck.”

“Mako, fucking get out here!” Strike shouted, banging on his door as he pried off his headphones.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, uncaring.

“Dad just hit Crow with his car.”

“He what?” Mako slowly closed his laptop.

“Crow’s dumbass walked into the road while we were arguing, and you know him, all he wears is black, so Dad didn’t see him, and he couldn’t slow down in time. And he fucking hit him.” 

“How fast was he going?”

“Like, 20.”

“Is Crow—is he okay? Holy shit.”

“Probably. He took him to the hospital.”

“Why didn’t you go with them?”

Strike looked down at her chipped nails. “We just broke up. He’s not my issue anymore.”

“You what?” Mako exclaimed with significantly more concern than before.

“Yeah. It was for the better. I wanted to get serious with him, he didn’t know what that meant, it was a whole clusterfuck.” 

“You wanted Crow Sang to get serious? That’s your fault.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“And we’re sure Crow is okay?”

“Physically, probably. Mentally, probably not. He broke a few bones, but he should be fine. He’s had worse surgeries before.”

“Just because he’s been through worse doesn’t erase the fact that he just got hit by a car.”

“Wait. Don’t tell dad we broke up.”

“Why not?”

“I can milk this. If I guilt trip him into thinking he hit my poor, defenseless boyfriend with a car, I can persuade him to buy me those new wheels I’ve wanted for ages.”

“Your boyfriend just got hit by a fucking car and all you can think about is how you can milk it?”

“Ex-boyfriend.”

“Whatever.”

“I’m trying to make the best of the situation!”

“We should probably go check on him.”

“You can go. I’m staying here. I don’t want to see him.”

“You don’t want to see him all pathetic and beaten down one last time?”

Strike clicked her tongue. “That is enticing. Fine. I’ll drive.”

“Noeul, I am so fucking sorry,” Kai pleaded. “Seriously, he’s the size of a fucking flea and was wearing all black, I could not see him. Really, you should have taught him not to run out into the road at night.”

“I guess all the cheer moms were right,” Marie sighed. “Being emo is dangerous, but not in the ways they assumed.”

“You can be honest with me, Kai,” Noeul said. “We both know that wasn’t the only factor at play there.”

“Was I a little wine-drunk? Maybe. But this still wasn’t my fault entirely.”

“You know you’re going to owe me for the rest of your life for this, right?”

“I’m fully aware.” 

“Can you pay for a hot tub for us?” Marie asked.

“Marie!” Noeul snapped.

“What? They have one. But I know what Crow and Strike do in there, so I don’t want to use theirs.” 

Kai raised his eyebrows. “I’ll have to start cleaning it better, then.”

Noeul cringed. “How are you so unfazed by discussions about what our kids do when we’re not around?”

“What’s Crow gonna do to her?” Kai shrugged “I’m sure I did much worse when I was their age. At least they trust us enough not to hide it.”

“I wish they hid it.” Marie gazed into the sterile hospital walls like a forlorn soldier. 

“Speak of the devil,” Noeul murmured, pocketing his keys as Strike and Mako casually strolled down the hall. 

“Sorry it took us so long,” Strike said, rolling her eyes. “This fatass had to stop and get a honey bun from the vending machine.”

“I hadn’t eaten dinner!” Mako protested. 

“And you got a honey bun? Do you know how long that’s probably been sitting there?”

“I don’t care,” Mako murmured, judgmentally side-eyeing her as he ripped a chunk of his honey bun off with his teeth. “How’s Crow doing?”

“He’ll be alright,” Noeul said. “He broke his leg, but he’s no stranger to walking with aids. He’ll heal in about a month.”

“Hey, I know someone else who walks with AIDS,” Strike said, subtly elbowing Mako. Marie loudly laughed. 

“Marie, that wasn’t funny,” Noeul said through clenched teeth.

“No, that was funny,” Kai corrected. 

“What? What was funny about—oh.” Mako’s face dropped as he realized he was the butt of the joke. 

“It’s okay, Mako, we know you don’t have AIDS,” Marie said. “Getting no action has its perks.” 

“And how many of you got into UCLA, again?” Noeul casually asked. 

“One,” Mako proudly replied, smugly grinning. 

“Same number of old men’s backseats he’s made out in,” Strike whispered. Mako’s face turned whiter than a bedsheet. 

“Dani,” Kai said, eyes lowering. 

“Yeah, that wasn’t necessary,” Noeul said, sharply inhaling. 

“Marie’s laughing,” Strike pointed out.

“No, I’m not!” Marie exclaimed, trying to hide the smile on her face. 

“You won’t be getting that hot tub anytime soon if you keep acting like this,” Noeul said, gently stepping on her foot.

The door to Crow’s room gently opened, a rightfully concerned look plastered on the doctor’s face after overhearing their conversations. “He’s open for visitors now. He should be awake in a few minutes.” 

“Thank you,” Noeul softly said, nodding as he led the way into the room. He and Marie were well-accustomed to the sight and smell of visiting Crow in hospital rooms, but Mako and Strike weren’t. 

“Oh, he looks so helpless,” Mako said, shaking his head. “I can’t stand seeing him like this.” 

“Did you forget the flowers in the car?” Strike asked.

“Fuck, I did,” Mako said, taking Strike’s keys. “I’ll run to get them.” 

“You didn’t have to get him flowers,” Noeul said, his tone brightening.

“It was the least we could do,” Mako said, half-smiling as he left the room. 

“We picked up a card and some candy, too.” Strike took the card from the pocket of her oversized denim jacket and placed it on the cabinet beside Crow’s bed. 

“I’m so glad Crow has friends like you two,” Noeul sighed. “Always so thoughtful. You’re acting like you’re the ones who ran him over.” 

“It was partially my fault,” Strike admitted. “We were arguing over something stupid outside, and he was distracted.” 

“You weren’t driving wine-drunk on a Tuesday.” Noeul heavily side-eyed Kai. 

“God forbid a man has a hobby,” Kai said beneath his breath.

“Will we get to sign his cast or anything?” Marie asked, adjusting the tongues of the knee-high Converse she stole from her brother. 

“No, I’m pretty sure they’re using another type of cast for him. Something a bit less distracting,” Noeul explained.

“Damn, I was hoping for custody over these bad boys for the next month,” Marie sighed. 

“He’s limited to very little physical activity, so I doubt he’ll be able to fight you for them,” Noeul said. 

“Limited physical activity?” Strike repeated. “For a whole month?”

Noeul closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes, Dani, I know exactly what you’re thinking—and the answer is no, you can’t. I’m sorry.”

“Now I have no reason to apologize to him,” she mumbled, fidgeting with the buttons on her jacket. “Fuck, I guess he was right about me. I was just using him for sex.”

“You were under the impression you weren’t?” Marie chimed in. 

“You clearly weren’t into him for his looks.” Kai tilted his head as he stared at Crow’s limp body, streaked eyeliner running down his chubby freckled cheeks. 

“He’s cute in the knocked-down-puppy way,” Strike said. “You wouldn’t get it.” 

“You’re right, I wouldn’t. Because I’m not attracted to children.”

“You know who was, though?” Strike said, inadvertently finishing his train of thought.

As if on cue, Mako re-entered the room with a miniature vase of flowers and a box of Skittles. “I’m back!”

Kai pursed his lips. “We have to stop joking about that.”

“It’s good material,” Strike said, slapping the back of his hand. 

“Does he like daisies? He seems like he would like daisies,” Mako said, carefully positioning the vase of white and gold flowers beside the card. 

“He’ll be elated to receive anything,” Noeul said. 

Crow scrunched his nose and turned over in his bed, his eyes slowly opening. “What the fuck just happened?”

“Kai hit you with his car,” Noeul said, deadpan. 

“Am I dead?” Crow asked. 

“Unfortunately not,” Marie said. 

“Marie!” Noeul snapped.

“Sorry.”

“We got you some flowers,” Mako said, awkwardly pointing at the vase. 

“Oh, really? Thank you,” Crow slurred. 

“And a card,” Strike added. “And some Skittles.” 

Crow adjusted himself to look at Strike and placed his hands in his lap like a rag doll. “You’re so pretty.” 

She almost blushed. “Ah—me? Or the flowers.”

“You. Sometimes I forget that,” Crow heavily blinked. 

“He’s on a generous dose of morphine,” Noeul explained. 

“We’re lucky he didn’t say worse,” Mako muttered. 

“The fuck happened to my leg?” Crow asked. 

“It’s broken,” Noeul said, “but you should be okay in a month or two.”

“Wasn’t it already fucked up? Did this fix it?” Crow asked. 

Marie, once again, inappropriately laughed. 

“No, bud, your broken leg did not fix your degenerative disease,” Noeul said, biting back a smile. 

“Damn. What was the point of all this, then?” Crow asked. 

“To serve as an anti-drunk driving PSA, I guess,” Kai added. “Kids, did we all learn our lesson?”

“Don’t cross the street if you’re emo?” Marie said. 

“I thought it was ‘don’t date Strike under any circumstance.’” Mako said. 

“I personally gathered that it was ‘Marie is the only bitch here with a sense of humor,’” Strike said. 

“Close enough.” Kai shrugged. 

“My head hurts,” Crow complained, slamming his head back into his pillow. 

“And your leg doesn’t?” Marie asked. 

“No, the morphine distracts from that,” Noeul said. 

“You know from experience?” Marie asked. Noeul didn’t have an answer for her. 

“Strike!” Crow exclaimed, waving her over like she was his personal assistant. 

“The fuck?” she said under her breath. 

“Go. You want to milk this situation for yourself? You’ll have to keep up the act,” Mako hissed. 

“Yes, baby?” Strike sighed, sitting on her knees beside his bed. 

“Give me a kiss. It’ll make me feel better.” Crow batted his tired, big eyes, and Strike’s chest tightened. 

“Yes, baby.” She ran her fingers through his bangs and gently kissed his forehead, and he melted like nothing had changed between them. 

“Does he remember their fight?” Mako asked, eyebrows raised. 

“Probably not,” Noeul said. “Dani, you might be lucky your dad hit Crow when he did.” 

“Yeah, it was cathartic to see him all bloody after the stupid shit he said,” Strike said. She glanced over at Noeul, and his expression told her all she needed to know. 

“That’s not—that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s what I meant. But it’s whatever now—I can’t stand to let go of him yet.” She kissed his nose and ruffled his frizzy hair before returning to Mako’s side. 

“I’m tired. Can we go home?” Marie complained. 

“Someone needs to stay with him. I’m sorry, Mina,” Noeul said.

“I can stay with him,” Strike offered. “Mako can drive my car back, I don’t care. You all can sleep comfortably. You’ve spent a lot of nights here.”

“Do we trust her around a barely conscious Crow?” Kai chimed in. 

“I’m not that evil!” Strike exclaimed. 

“Point taken.” Kai awkwardly stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’m just not used to you being the caring type without some sort of incentive.”

“I’m not,” Strike said. “I’m proving to him that I’m more than what he assumed about me.” 

“So, you’re proving that you care about him?” Mako grinned.

“Shut up,” Strike grumbled.

“Thank you for offering, Dani.” Noeul patted her shoulder. “We’ll see you bright and early in the morning.”

“I have to wake up early?” Marie groaned. “But it’ll be a Saturday!”

“You���ll survive.” Noeul redirected his daughter’s wrathful glare outside the hospital room and led her outside. 

“I’ll ride home with Dad. You’ll want your car in the morning,” Mako said, dropping Strike’s keys by Crow’s vase.

“Yeah, that’s probably a better idea,” Strike absentmindedly said, her eyes unmoving as she studied the way Crow’s messy curls framed his face.

“Call me if you need anything,” Kai said. “I don’t care how late it is.”

“I will,” Strike promised, still halfway listening. 

As they left, Strike positioned herself on the plastic chair across from Crow’s bed. He adjusted his pillow and wrapped his arms around it. 

“What time is it?” he murmured. 

“Almost eleven.”

“Hmmph.” Crow’s makeup smudged on the sheer white sham. “I wish I could be next to you. On your bed. With a warm blanket.” 

“We can do that after this.” Strike leaned forward and rested her chin on the back of her balled hand. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course.” 

“Okay.” Crow’s eyes fluttered shut again, and Strike sighed as he gazed up at the humming fluorescent lights. 

She was eighteen. She had time to figure out what she wanted with him. Really, there was no need to label something as unpredictable as their relationship with one another—even if she hadn’t done much more than indulge in having someone to fuck. But that was how she showed her love. There was nothing wrong with that, right? Not every girl had to be a hopeless gushy romantic for her boyfriend. She was never the emotional type, anyway. Neither of them were. Maybe staying beside him in the hospital overnight was enough to show she cared. 

As her eyes grew heavy counting the freckles splattered across his face, she silently prayed it was. 

[the-dalseum-duet]

yumeshipper destiny fulfillment

hiii i had plans to write this all out but i don’t want to put in that much effort to my cringe yumeshipper lore. I am cringe and free but not like. FULLY obsessed yknow. this is for fun. for old times sake. @svwhssftr

anyway! the satin lore

I picture her with ofc the short curly brown hair kinda drawn w a similar texture to brief’s? big ol blue eyes. baby blue dress in a similar style to reboot panty’s but styled w white chucks and visible blue socks peeking out. little silver star necklace. alternative outfit of baby blue shorts with a cropped white tank top. detach her from me if you can. bc satis is technically not me. it’s like how calliope is lamp girl. she’s not. she’s just an entity that represents her overall impact on the lore. satis is an entity that represents my actions not me as an individual trust

she’s a fallen angel who lives on the outskirts of datten city. why did she get kicked out of heaven you ask? bc she fell in love with a particular blonde demon whom we know well. the two married after satin was banished to purgatory, but her wife was killed by the angel brothers. who naturally hunt demons. so satin has personal beef with them. bc she misses her wife tails. she misses her a lot. 

but this was before their rebrand as polyester and polyurethane. this is back when they were Seong and Minho. satin personally knew polyester bc they were both angels but she knows polyurethane is LYING HE’S SECRETLY A DEMON but he’s masquerading as an angel. so what’s going on? something is up

panty and stocking also notice this and they seek satin out bc of her connection to them. satins like “hell yea I will help you. here’s all I know abt them. polyurethane is a demon btw he’s pretending” so panty and stocking are like “ok so we’re going to kill him. for the heaven coins. and also for killing your fucking wife what a bitchass move” they truly are girls’ girls. but satin wants to understand exactly what’s goin on with polyurethane 

the girls invite satin over to the cathedral to queen out and outline their plan. panty goes on a minor rant like “ughh I can’t believe the men are on strike after I destroyed the city. i haven’t gotten a good fuck in so long” and satin’s like “dude the lesbians would love you. if you swing that way. even if you don’t it’s a good time” and panty’s like “nahhh I don’t do that. they can’t penetrate deep enough for me but the idea of fucking a girl sounds fun” and stocking mentions that strap ons are a thing. and panty has been so aggressively heterosexual up to these point that she had no clue. some gears start turning. 

and the plan or whatever. they use brief to bait the angel boys by presenting him as helpless and weak and interested in them. bc polyurethane can’t resist a little boy in distress and in a debatable state to consent. brief goes along bc he does whatever panty says

and they do. but plot twist. brief has a minor bi awakening when polyurethane starts flirting with him and he’s roped into their weird incestuous polycule so the girls are lowkey fucked. reconvene at the cathedral. they eat some delicious pastries and start devising a plot to save brief and kill the angel boys. they rope in the demon sisters bc they can kill angels. it’s a 5 v 3 so under these circumstances they can surely win using just brute force. it’s a win for both the demon sisters and the angels. it’s a fair trade off. plan cemented. 

stocking goes to bed. panty and satin do not bc panty’s a fucking freak. she corners satin like “you know.. you are really pretty… you ever fucked a girl before or??” and satin’s like “I mean I’ve eaten out my wife before but I wasn’t exactly the dominant one in the relationship. but I’m not opposed to it. you’re actually really hot is it hot in here?” and atp panty is desperate enough for some action that she’s willing to walk satin through it. and they fuck or whatever. and panty realizes a few things abt herself. that hey. this might be. better than fucking random men. bc less of a chance of getting an std or getting pregnant. men are lowkey annoying and gross when they’re not fucking anyway. she doesn’t have to do any detaching afterward if she fucks women. and customizable size? fellow pretty angel girl praising her and kneeling to her every whim? there are zero downsides here

and they actually execute the plan the next day, panty’s powers super-charged from her newfound love of lesbian sex. they all team up and easily annihilate those angel fuckers once and for all. they get their heaven and hell coins and allat. brief is cucked yet again for the foreseeable future. yay idk this is so stupid I made this up in like 20 minutes but I wanted to yap abt satin 😛bc think she’s cool

[the-dalseum-duet]

the goobies + fangstitch wedding lore drop

supposed to be a continuation of my femcel manifesto that I will never finish bc it’s lowkey cringe but this is much more lighthearted. I like writing in this style a lot it’s a lot less depressing and has a lot more freedom @svwhssftr

no banner lol

“What’s the best man doing sitting all by himself?” Gale exclaimed, clearly less than sober, as he brushed Crow’s shoulder with his newly-ringed hand. 

“I’m eating my cake,” Crow sheepishly responded, poking at a pearlescent sprinkle with his fork. 

“Get out on the floor! You’re normally the life of the party, babes.” 

Crow expertly twirled his glittering cane before poking Gale’s ankle with it. “I don’t dance.” 

“You don’t have to dance. Just get out there!”

“And stand by myself? No thanks.”

“You’re not the only eligible bachelor here. Or bachelorette, whichever you prefer.” Gale tilted his head and rested his cheek on his palm. “Everyone else is in the spirit of romance.”

“I’m totally in the spirit of romance,” Crow replied, mouth half-full of marble cake and white icing smudged on his lower lip. 

Gale huffed. “Fine, don’t listen to me. Sit and revel in your edgelord misery. I should go find my husband—oh, it feels wonderful to finally say that. My husband.”

“I think he was over by the—“ Crow pointed to the edge of the dancefloor, but Gale turned his head in the opposite direction.

“Oh, he’s talking to his sister. Lord only knows what she’s saying to him—didn’t you two have a little fling for a while?”

“Yeah,” Crow mumbled. “Something like that.”

“Go talk to her, then! Maybe you can rekindle some of those feelings.”

“I am not interested in rekindling anything with Stri—“ Crow cleared his throat. “With Dani.”

“But look at her, all dressed up and alone, waiting for a handsome young man such as yourself to sweep her off her feet.”

Crow couldn’t stop himself from wistfully gazing at her, half-empty champagne glass in hand and bodycon black dress accentuating all the right curves. He would have been lying if he said he wasn’t still attracted to her, but he knew better than to poke a sleeping bear.

“I don’t think Dani has ever felt that way,” Crow softly said, hesitantly standing.

“She may not feel it, but I do.” Gale aggressively patted Crow’s back as he took a sip of his champagne, causing him to momentarily choke. He quickly retracted his hand. “Oh, just—don’t do that in front of her.” 

“That was your fault!” Crow protested, downing the rest of his glass to clear his throat. He had always hated the taste of alcohol—there was a reason he only drank during special occasions. 

“All I’m saying,” Gale started, his voice lowering, “is that you two could be next if you gave it a chance.” 

“We did give it a chance.” Crow blinked. “Not everyone gets a fairy-tale ending.” 

“You’re talking to an orphan from the slums of Kent who married the handsomest, kindest man in the world. Love always comes back around to those who need it most, Crow. But it’s never in the ways you expect it.”

“Neither of us wanted that kind of love.”

“I never said ‘want.’ I said ‘need.’”

“She doesn’t need me. She needs a psychiatrist.” Crow intently stared into his glass.

“Oh, nothing I can say will change fate. I’m off to find Mako. Did I mention he’s my husband now?”

“Really? I had no clue.” Crow smiled. 

“It’s almost time for the garter toss,” he casually said. 

“The what?” Crow asked, fully aware of what Gale had said.

“Oh, you’ve probably not been to many weddings. A garter—“

“I know what it is. I just—I wasn’t expecting it from you.” 

“Why, because we’re both men?”

Crow pursed his lips. “Yeah.” 

“And right when I thought you were one of the progressive ones,” Gale joked, teasingly shooing off Crow with a flick of his hand. 

“I’m not sure I want to see this,” Crow said to himself, slowly nestling himself into the crowd circling the dance floor. Mako eagerly waved over Gale and greeted his newlywed husband with a kiss on the forehead before suggestively tilting his head toward a chair snatched from one of the numerous tables around the reception facilities. 

“I can’t believe they’re doing this,” a familiar voice said, the tips of her stiletto heels clicking against the smooth floor. Crow anxiously glanced to see Strike casually hovering by his side, champagne glass freshly re-filled. He purposely ignored her until her intense glare at him lasted a bit too long to be unintentional.

“I know!” Crow stammered. “I mean, we’ve known they were freaks, but they need keep that shit between their own sheets.”

“Are you seriously wearing shoulder pads?” she scoffed, her judgmental squint revealing smoky gray eyeshadow. 

“It enhances my silhouette,” Crow said. “Bitch.”

“It’s not the worst I’ve seen you in. When you actually put yourself together, you don’t look half-bad. You look like your dad.” 

Crow’s expression dropped. “There is no way you just said that.” 

“You do look like him. You have half of his chromosomes, this shouldn’t come as a surprise to you.”

“Everyone told me I looked just like him when I was a kid but not anymore. It just threw me off guard, I guess.”

“That’s surprising. People will see any two guys with monolids and assume they’re twins or some shit.” 

“Isn’t that the truth?” Crow took a faux sip of his empty champagne as Gale assumed his position on the chair. “Wait, Mako’s going to be the one doing the toss?” 

“Yeah, you’re supposed to use your teeth. Gale’s British—it’s a wonder he has any at all.” 

Crow awkwardly laughed as Mako clawed a lacy strap from beneath Gale’s ruffle-adorned shorts and quickly ripped it off with his teeth. He proudly lifted it and displayed it to the crowd, which met him with hesitant cheers. 

“That’s your son!” Strike shouted, pointing at her father and sarcastically fist-pumping to cheer on Mako. 

“Did he know about this?” Crow asked, laughing.

“Oh, absolutely not. I didn’t even know about this.” 

“The vision is there, but—“ The garter landed itself around Crow’s wrist, and he instinctively pulled his hand away, only for the lace to wrap itself around the shaft of his cane. He gazed up at Mako in primal fear. 

“Hell yeah!” Mako cheered, softly clapping as he rushed through the crowd to ruffle Crow’s perfectly slicked-back hair. 

“What the fuck was that for?” Crow flatly said, his eyes glazing over. 

“Ah, we all know this whole wedding superstition bullshit isn’t true. It’s just for fun,” Mako said.

“Are you implying I’m not going to get married anytime soon?” Crow asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Are you implying that you will be?” Mako laughed. 

“Yeah, you win this one. Take your husband’s sweaty undergarments back. You’ll get more use out of them than I will.” Crow extended his cane to Mako like it was a nuclear weapon. 

Strike sharply laughed, and Crow instinctively jumped. “Oh, I forgot how funny you were.” 

“I’ve said funnier,” Crow said. “It’s probably the champagne getting to your head. How much have you had?”

“I don’t remember.” Strike shrugged as she took another sip.

“It’s definitely the champagne,” Mako said under his breath. 

“The garter.” Crow poked Mako’s stomach with the end of his cane, and Mako untangled it. 

“I like this cane—it’s very sparkly. Is it new?” Mako asked. 

“No, I’ve had it for a while. I only use it during special occasions.” 

“Does the glitter move?” Mako exclaimed, eyes widening as Crow tilted the handle and the sparkles rained down the shaft. 

“Sure does,” he said, the holographic golden specks reflecting against the blue lights of the reception center. “It’s epoxy.”

“Damn. You’ll have to remind me where you got it when I’m old and decrepit and can’t move.” 

“I have a feeling the mobility issues might catch up to Gale first.”

Mako bit the inside of his cheek. “I know you didn’t say that on our wedding day.” 

“It wasn’t a joke about his weight, bitch, I was calling him a bottom.” 

“Oh!” Mako’s eyes lit up again. “Haha, yeah. Yeah, he is. That was funny.”

“See, you are funny!” Strike aggressively elbowed Crow, and he hunched over. 

“Neither of you are sober right now. It doesn’t count.” 

“And you are?” Mako asked, placing his hands on his hips. 

“I’ve only had one glass, and that was out of necessity. I don’t plan on drinking any more,” Crow explained. 

“Is the champagne not fine enough for Prince Charming?” Mako teased. 

“No, it’s not bad. I just don’t drink,” Crow said. 

“Then why did you come?” Strike asked. 

“Because I’m the best man.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s important,” Strike said. 

“And free cake,” Crow continued. 

“Now he reveals his intentions to us!” Mako laughed. 

“You actually have some right—“ Strike forcefully grabbed Crow’s face and squished his cheek before scraping icing from the corner of his lip. “—here.”

Blood rushed to his head, his eyes widening and heart racing. “I didn’t—didn’t realize that. Thank you.” 

Strike devilishly smiled before her face returned to its natural stoic state. “Cake all over your face and you aren’t even drunk—it’s embarrassing.”

Gale weaseled his way across the floor to take to his husband’s side. “Well, if it isn’t the man of the hour!”

“Yeah, that garter was nice. Shame Mako had to rip it in half,” Crow said. 

“Won’t be the only thing I’m ripping in half tonight,” Mako whispered into Gale’s ear, but not quietly enough for Strike and Crow to overhear and exchange judgmental glances. The newlyweds giggled like schoolgirls as Strike and Crow awkwardly nodded in each other’s directions. 

“But was I wrong?” Gale asked, pointing at Crow.

“Huh?” 

“Nothing I can do will change fate.” He obnoxiously grinned as his mismatched eyes darted between Strike and Crow. 

“Oh, no, no,” Crow stuttered, fighting the flush creeping up his neck. “We were just talking, it’s not—“

“You caught the garter for a reason,” Gale said.

“Because Mako fucking launched it at me!” 

“I threw it into the crowd. You happened to be standing there. There was no intention behind it!” Mako raised his hands in innocence. 

“Leave the poor kid alone,” Strike groaned. “It’s obvious he’s the biggest virgin at this reception—he doesn’t need you freaks rubbing it in his face.” 

“I am not a virgin!” Crow snapped. Mako raised an eyebrow. 

“How was I supposed to know that?” Strike crossed her arms and smugly winked at him. God, he nearly soaked through his boxers. 

“I feel like this is our cue to leave,” Gale said, tugging on the cuffs of Mako’s sleeve. 

“Yeah, we’ll let you two work this out on your own.” Mako stiffly waved as he left to socialize with the other guests. 

“Why did you say I was a virgin?” Crow demanded, leaning his weight onto his cane. 

“Have you had sex with anyone who wasn’t me?”

“I don’t have to answer that question.”

“So, you haven’t?” Strike grinned again. 

“Have you had sex with anyone who wasn’t me?”

“I don’t have to answer that question,” Strike replied, mocking his tone. 

“So, you haven’t gotten any action, either.”

“See, Jo, the difference between you and me is that I could fuck anyone I wanted,” Strike slurred. “You, on the other hand—you’re wearing shoulder pads to your best friend’s wedding, and your lips are so chapped that the cake crumbs stick to them like Velcro.” 

“My lips are not chapped!”

“Then you have less of an excuse to be in this state.”

“Gale was harassing me while I was eating. I had no choice.” 

“You are infuriating.” Strike yanked a crumpled black napkin from the inside of her jet black Coach purse and practically forced Crow into a headlock as she wiped his chin. 

“Is this necessary?” he asked, avoiding all possibility of eye contact to avoid immediate arousal. 

“I can’t stand it. You look stupid.”

“You could have told me to get it myself.”

“You’re the one who got it stuck there in the first place.” 

“It wasn’t my fault!”

“Your freckles,” Strike gasped.

“My what?” Crow whispered. 

“That’s what looks so wrong about you. You covered up your freckles.” 

“Yeah, I wanted to look nice. I used a bit of foundation to smooth out my complexion. What’s the big deal?” 

“You look so different without them,” Strike lamented, brushing her thumb against his cheek. 

“You are way too touchy when you’re drunk.”

“You look so fucking hot in a suit. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Crow’s eyes widened. “Put the champagne glass down. You’ve had enough.”

“Like, when we were together, I thought you were cute and all, but I only found you hot when you were all tousled and pitiful. I like this masculine side of you. You look like a man.” 

“That wasn’t my intention,” he awkwardly laughed. “But you don’t look like yourself, either. I barely recognized you in a dress.” 

“Really?” she said. “It’s hard to mistake my body, I think.”

“I didn’t know you got that tattoo.”

“Oh, yeah,” her tone briefly softened as she looked down at her forearm, a sprawling dragon slithering across her old scars. “It hurt like a bitch, but it was worth it.” 

“Any particular reason why you got it?”

“Dragons are badass.” 

“Can’t argue with that.” 

“I hate dresses,” Strike sighed. “I like the tightness up top, but I need freedom below my waist. I need to be able to sit without it riding up my thighs.” 

“Yeah,” Crow said, admittedly mesmerized by the mental image Strike had painted. 

Strike looked back over her shoulder at him. “You’re fucking obsessed with me, aren’t you?”

“What?” Crow exclaimed. “No, I’m not.”

“It’s so obvious. You act so differently around me than you act around everyone else. Your eyes get all glossy and you trip over your words.”

“Probably because everyone else hasn’t broken my hymen.” 

Strike hummed and shook her head as she finished her glass of champagne. “That was a fun night.” 

“Glad it was for one of us,” Crow shuddered. 

“We can’t act like nothing ever happened between us. I know we said we’d try, but—“

“It’s hard,” Crow finished, avoiding her eyes as he fidgeted with his cuff links. 

“As in, you are? Or, emotionally, it’s straining?”

“Both,” Crow admitted. 

Strike clicked her tongue. “I mean, I’m practically sober. I’ve had, what, three glasses of this? I can down multiple shots of vodka in a night and be unfazed.” 

“Why did you feel the need to share that?” Crow asked, hands beginning to shake. 

“Why do you think I did?” Strike bent at her hips to meet face-to-face with Crow, and he locked lips with her without hesitation, dazed by her magnolia and cherry perfume. She pulled him in by his waist and pushed the kiss deeper as he softly whimpered into her mouth as she pulled away. 

“Fuck, I missed this,” she quietly laughed, pulling down strands of oiled curls from Crow’s hair to frame his face. “You’re so pretty when you look like a man.”

“You’re so gorgeous, Strike,” Crow panted. “So gorgeous.”

“Handsome. That’s the word I was looking for.”

A surge of never-felt-before euphoria ricocheted through Crow’s body, lighting up his bones like he was some delinquent toddler’s glowstick on the Fourth of July. “I’m handsome?”

“So handsome.” She pulled him in again, her body pressed against his, every inch of her curves and muscles electric against his suede suit. She tasted like champagne and buttercream with a hint of the same bitter, addictive taste Crow had forgotten he missed. 

“The women’s restroom,” Crow panted, “has a very spacious accessible stall if we want to go.”

“Oh, look at you, initiating sex,” Strike hummed. “You’ve gotten bolder since the last time we fucked.”

“I need to taste you again.” He stared up at her with dark, pleading eyes.

Strike flushed and her thigh twitched beneath her dress. “You want to—okay. Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

“You need me just as bad as I need you,” Crow whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.” 

“Crow!” she giggled, frantically glancing around the floor to make sure they weren’t receiving any stares. “What happened to you?” 

“You did.” He kissed the crevice of her neck. “I can’t let this opportunity pass by me again.”

“Let’s fucking go, then. You know I’m impatient.” Strike stumbled backwards with Crow’s wrist tight in her hand as she led them into the restroom. 

Gale tapped Mako’s shoulder and glanced back at them. “The garter never lies,” he sang, grinning as Strike tugged at Crow’s tie. 

“At our reception ceremony?” Mako groaned. “They couldn’t at least wait?”

“Please, babe, they’ve waited over a year to see each other again. Imagine if we had been separated that long.”

“We wouldn’t be separated that long because we actually love each other, hon. I don’t think either of them know what love is.” 

“I’m still rooting for them,” Gale said. “God, these shoes are fucking killing me.” 

“You picked them out!”

“I always choose fashion over function. That’s why I married you—I need someone to tell me to make good decisions.” 

“And that’s why Strike and Crow will never work. They both make horrible decisions.” 

“But they’re both young and tragic, and the world is always against them! They’re like Edward Scissorhands—if they both had scissors for hands.” 

“Yeah, they seem to know a lot about scissors. Apt comparison.” 

Gale brightly laughed. “See, that’s also why I married you. You think of the best punchlines before I do.”

“I only do it so I can hear you laugh,” Mako said, gently kissing Gale’s forehead. 

“Oh, stop it!” Gale softly chuckled as Mako’s warm lips met his skin. “How much longer do we have until the reception is over?”

“Another hour or so.” 

“We’re breaking out the tentacle tonight, I presume?”

“Oh, for sure. And I may or may not have gotten us a surprise for our wedding night.”

“Do tell!”

“All I can share is that it needs multiple people to assemble.”

“We’re going to be exhausted tonight, babe. We won’t have the energy to put anything together.” 

“We can always wait. We have plenty of rope to keep us entertained.” 

“I’m surprised I haven’t accidentally come with how damn tight these shoes are. This isn’t even masochistic torture—it’s just torture.”

“Yeah, foot blisters aren’t exactly sexy.” 

“I’m sure someone out there would fight you on that.” 

“I’m sure people would pay to see that.” 

“We have anything left over on our registry?” Gale asked. 

“A few things here and there. Why?” Mako said. 

“I think you’ve just given me an idea.”

[the-dalseum-duet]

polycule from purgatory

idk what’s happening w the sizing @svwhssftr but just a vague idea I had I ran with. a bit. explicit. but not too bad

“That’s it!” Noeul panted, back arching as his sweat-slicked hair fell over his eyes. “I’m done. That’s all I can do.” 

“That’s okay,” Charlie hummed. “You did good, baby. You always do good. Tonight was a lot.”

“Did you like it?” He grinned as he bent down to kiss her collarbones. 

“You know I always do.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled as he kissed the tip of her nose. 

“Hey, lovebirds!” Kai said, snapping his fingers. “Where’s my praise? I’ve been doing the hard job.” 

“Thanks for doing the dirty work for us,” Charlie said, nodding in recognition.

“I don't think I’ve ever come that hard,” Noeul softly said, eyes still glazed over. 

“Yeah, it felt different,” Charlie said, eyes squinting. 

“You’re still on the pill, right?” Noeul asked. 

“Thank God, yes, you’d have given me triplets from that load.” 

Kai laughed. 

“You thought that was funny, Shirogane?” Noeul sharply asked. 

“Ooh, someone’s mad his wife’s funnier than him,” Kai said, carefully removing the slick dildo from his strap. 

“I don’t know if I’m that funny,” Charlie said. “I just open my mouth around here and people laugh at me.” 

“The accent adds to the charm,” Noeul said, continuing to scatter kisses across her chest.��

“Yeah, her moans are nice to hear—a lot better than Noeul’s grunts,” Kai said. Noeul shot him a nasty glare. 

“Yeah, babe, you need to be more vocal in bed. I like to hear you plead and whimper.” 

“Seriously?” Noeul asked. 

“Yes,” Charlie and Kai replied in unison. 

“I mean, I could try.” Noeul’s face flushed. 

“You don’t have to try. It comes naturally. Like this.” Kai sharply pinched Noeul’s ass and he instinctively yelped. 

“Do not do that,” Noeul sternly said, narrowing his eyes at Kai. 

“Who pissed in your Cheerios?” Kai asked. “We’ve done so much worse in the past.”

“It’s different with—with her.” Noeul whispered, cocking his head toward Charlie. 

“It shouldn’t be!” Charlie chimed in. “I like seeing you two do your thing. Your dynamic is fun. Keeps me on my toes.” 

“But, doll, it’s different. You’re my beautiful, wonderful wife-to-be and Kai is—“

“Kai is what?” he asked, crossing his arms under his swirling tattoos. 

“Kai isn’t.” Noeul snapped. “There. Is that good enough of an explanation for you?” 

“Just because you didn’t have the balls to commit to me means that you get to use my body freely?” Kai asked. “And I get to express none of my desires in return? Is that what I’m hearing?” 

“Don’t act like you ever wanted to commit to me,” Noeul laughed. “And you know damn well that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Sure sounds like that’s what you meant,” Charlie said, admiring her short, white nails. 

“And you need to shut the fuck up and stop encouraging him!” Noeul pointed a long black fingernail at Charlie. “I’m your husband. Not him.” 

“Yeah, I’m your wife, and I’m watching you get backshots from some guy I barely know while you’re fucking me. You don’t hear me complaining because we agreed to this, dipshit.”

“Did I not use enough lube? Because you seem pretty butthurt for zero reason,” Kai said, shrugging. 

“Look, the root of this issue is clear,” Charlie said, wincing as she sat up. “Noeul, baby, it seems like you’re jealous that Kai and I reciprocate feelings about pleasure when all three of us are involved in bed. You’re jealous because we’re in a committed relationship and it feels unnatural for him to sexually interact with me, right?” 

“Yeah, exactly,” Noeul said. 

“This was an agreement we made together, but it’s going to take time to get accustomed to this. It’s normal to have these feelings, but we should probably work on managing our emotions before we lash out toward the man with a big dildo and current access to your raw asshole. Does that make sense?”

“It makes sense, but it feels like you two are a bit too accustomed to this already,” Noeul said. “In my opinion, it says a lot that I’m the one with reservations.” 

“Nah, man, I think you’re just jealous that your wife likes me more than you.” 

“I do not like Kai more than you!” Charlie immediately exclaimed, grabbing Noeul’s wrists. “This is just different. It’s okay for things to be different, right?”

“Right,” Noeul grumbled. 

“Good,” Charlie sighed. “Do you want to cuddle with us to get more used to it?”

“With us?” Kai repeated.

“Oh, yeah, Charlie loves this,” Noeul said. 

“We cuddle after every time we have sex. He puts his weight on me and pushes me down into the mattress—oh, it’s the best part of it all.” 

“Sometimes I can’t tell if she’s secretly gay or if she’s just autistic,” Kai whispered. 

“What was that?” Noeul asked. 

“Ah, nothing.” 

“Kai, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to,” Charlie said, pulling up her frizzy curls before disappearing into Noeul’s bathroom. 

“No, I’d love to cuddle! I’m more offended that Noeul's never cuddled with me before.”

“You never asked,” Noeul refuted. 

“I’m going to go touch up, too,” Kai said, stretching out his shoulders before gently opening the bathroom door. Charlie’s warm expression had entirely fallen as she wiped smudged mascara from under her eyes. 

“Look, I don’t say shit like this often, but you deserve so much better than him.” 

“He’s normally not like that,” Charlie lied. “He’s just possessive of me. I get it.”

“You fucking babied him out here. He was throwing a tantrum over something he agreed to do. You’re not his mother.”

“You think this isn’t hard for me, too?” she snapped, throwing down her towel. “The only difference is I’m better at hiding it. I enjoy threesomes—a lot more than sex with just him—but it’s hard working through years of purity culture engrained in my head.” 

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“You clearly don’t know what it’s like to be a woman,” Charlie sighed. She awkwardly glanced down at his crotch. “Sorry.” 

“No, I see where you come from.”

“I totally faked that orgasm, by the way.” 

“Yeah, I could tell. An Oscar is not in your future.” 

“You wanna fix that for me really quick?”

“Dude, I’ve been stretching out his hole and pounding it for the past hour, I’m not in the mood for any more sexual activity.”

“That’s fair. I’ll just let my hormones die down as I fall asleep. I’m so fucking tired.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Noeul’s really never cuddled with you after sex?”

“We’ve fallen asleep together, but never like that.”

“That’s so sad. Everyone deserves to be cuddled after sex, especially if you’ve been the one lubing his asshole all night. God, I don’t know how you do it.” 

“Do what?” 

“Anal. It’s one of the few things I’ve told him I absolutely will not do with him—that and blowjobs.”

Secretly a lesbian, Kai thought.

“I mean, it’s a total sensory nightmare just thinking about it.”

Or just autistic, Kai thought.

“Do we want to shower together?” Charlie announced. 

“No,” Kai and Noeul responded in unison. 

“I’m going to bed,” Noeul sighed. 

“Isn’t that kind of gross?” Charlie asked. “We’re all sweaty.”

“We’ve had each other’s parts in the others’ holes for the past hour. I think we can handle some sweat,” Kai said, elbowing her. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Charlie tied up her baby blue pajama shorts and smoothed out her white tank, her nipples barely peeking through. 

Kai sharply inhaled. “I see why Noeul’s the way he is about you. If I was into women, I’d act the same way.”

“Oh, thank you!” Charlie awkwardly replied. “If I was into men, I’d probably reciprocate.”

“If you were into men?” Kai repeated.

“Did I say that?” Charlie asked. “You—you know what I meant. Men who look like you.”

Secretly lesbian and autistic, Kai settled.

“Noeul, turn on my white noise machine!” Charlie barked. 

“Yes, babydoll,” Noeul responded, flopping onto his stomach to reach the button. 

“I’m so excited. This is your first cuddle session.” Charlie lightly clapped as she re-entered Noeul’s room and collapsed onto his bed. 

“This feels more embarrassing than anything we just did,” Kai said. 

“It’s not. Charlie says it’s good for your mental health or whatever,” Noeul said, scooping her up in his arms as she nestled closer to him. 

“The pressure and skin-to-skin contact releases dopamine,” she explained. 

“I could use some more of that,” Kai huffed, hesitantly crawling into the bed. “How am I supposed to fit into this?” 

“Do you want to be a big or little spoon?” Charlie asked. 

“A what?” 

“Do you want to do the cuddling or receive the cuddling?” Noeul translated. 

“I’ve done a lot of giving tonight. I want to receive some affection.” 

“Alright, how about we let Noeul be the big big spoon, we have me in the middle, and Kai can be the littlest spoon.”

“Just call me a slur at this point,” Kai said. 

“No, no, it’s fun! Come over.”

“Dear God.” Kai hesitantly crawled across the bed. 

“You’ll fall asleep so fast. Trust me.”

“If you insist.” He awkwardly turned his back to Charlie and she wrapped his arms around him, interlocking one of their legs. 

“You’re a lot squishier than Noeul. I like this,” she said. 

“Are you calling me fat?” Kai asked. 

“No, Noeul’s just skeletal.” 

“I have to maintain my image,” Noeul muttered, already half-sleep. 

“This is alright,” Kai said, his body already relaxed. “I could do this every once and a while.” 

“It’s better than sex, if you ask me,” Charlie whispered. 

“Anything is better than sex for you, man.”

“Yeah,” Charlie peeped. Kai tilted his head, and she and Noeul were already out cold, Noeul’s chin resting on Charlie’s shoulder. He took one last deep sigh before he closed his eyes. He could get used to whatever the fuck Noeul and Charlie had going on—but he knew better than to assume it would last.

[the-dalseum-duet]

siren bitch girls

YAY PANTY AND STOCKING AU LORE DUMP

hiii I decided to throw in the towel and finally get this out there. just stray ideas in my head @svwhssftr

lets start with our main characters Strike and Mako. our beloved sibling duo. for this we’re taking a bit more of a fantasy route. Kai is the king of a very small oceanside kingdom… that is not dalseum idk what it is. it needs a punny name like datten city. but Mako is like… the picture-perfect uptight beloved prince and Strike is a guardswoman who hides her identity to the public. Like this mf is a Disney prince. Sashes and shoulder pads that whole classic aesthetic. And Strike is more of a stereotypical knight-esque character. Like she hides her face and identity under her armor. She’s like the head guardswoman even though she’s the princess by blood. 

Kai has zero role in this by the way. I chose not to include any of the first gen council dalseumians bc it just fucks w the timeline w Gale being included and he had to be here we need more decent fangstitch content

And we have our side characters Crow and Marie, who are lower class. Cutesy sailor aesthetic. Marie’s natural luck and patience make her a great fisherman (fisherwoman?) and Crow’s charisma and charm (read: persistence and frankly threatening aura) easily win over customers who want to buy their fish. 

But these are their identities by day. By night…

Strike and Mako are respectively Leather and Lace, a conniving siren duo sent to collect and control the souls of humans to expand their power. Leather is like a classic dominatrix donning thigh-high leather boots, biker shorts, tight black latex bodysuit, the works. Lace has more of a white lolita aesthetic with Mary Jane shoes, lacy stockings, ruffly skirts, lingerie tops. The days of traditional seafaring siren traps are over—they find more success prowling the streets at night and hooking up with desperate men. Sex is the fastest way to steal a human soul for themselves. 

But Marie and Crow are siren hunters bc they think catching such an exotic creature will make them a lot of money—they’re Fishnets (Nettie, for short) and Binder, respectively. Get it? Fishnets? Like they catch fish? Because they’re catching sirens? I thought it was funny. And Binder kinda works both as a pun abt Crow being trans and the binding that keeps an actual fish net closed. They spend their evenings prowling around the most dangerous parts of town to find Leather and Lace and kill them once and for all. 

They have a more pirate-esque aesthetic. Ruffled tops, heavy jewelry, lacy boots. Cutesy. 

And, by night, they do all the panty and stocking type fights and shenanigans. Leather’s weapon is just Strike’s gun the two are inseparable regardless of universe. She has siren powers but rarely uses them just bc she’s lowkey bad at it. Lace’s weapon is mind control that comes from staring at the patterns within her lace for too long. Trust it’s fire. Nettie’s weapons are a pair of hwando swords that come from her fishnet socks and Binder’s weapon is like… idk how to explain this… it’s like binder tape but not. Like we remember the bondage stocking scene? It’s like a rope he uses as a lasso. Because crow’s country roots always come back. 

And this is something I keep meaning to mention bc I think it’s so fucking funny. the concept of fangstitch being so sweet and wholesome at face value but then actually being fucking freaks. like full on BDSM sex dungeon type freaks. so for sure we have a scene where binder ties up lace and she’s like “joke’s on you I’m into this shit” 

but leather and lace are ethereal otherworldly mystical beings so binder and nettie never win. sad. they continue on their rampage to steal men’s souls. 

but by day? a whole different story. strike finds herself frequenting the market bc they have the freshest fruit and look a girl needs some fruit. she finds herself enamored by crow and his sigma aura I guess and flirts with him and he falls to his knees every time she acknowledges him how cute. but strike knows she can’t romance him bc she’s a siren. it’s in her blood to steal his soul. if he’s stupid enough to fall for her, then that’s one more soul that belongs to her

they start casually going out after a few weeks of marketside flirting and it’s all well and good but strike refuses to tell him the truth about her identity. crow doesn’t recognize her bc leather usually has a full face of dark makeup and strike doesn’t really wear makeup. but strike takes advantage of his stupid hormonal tendencies. and they fuck. and she steals his soul. now Marie is on a one-woman mission to bring him back. 

meanwhile, mako is head over heels for his servant boy Gale but he knows they can never truly be together because if they ever were intimate he would steal his soul. mako doesn’t want to be evil! he’s a good guy deep down he wasn’t meant for the siren life. he holds out hope, but once he learns about strike and crow, he gives up. 

but as it turns out, Marie and Gale were actually pretty close friends bc she loved to buy clothes from him that he sold at the market to make some extra money. so she brings him along on her quest to get crow’s soul back from strike. and as they venture throughout the kingdom and eventually find leather and lace, Gale recognizes Lace as his secret boyfriend! Or girlfriend? Gale is very confused by this but a little bit turned on by Mako in lingerie so he doesn’t care

But this is so much deeper than Mako in lingerie. The prince is a siren who steals men’s souls. This is bad news. And as hard as Marie is trying, Strike doesn’t know how to return Crow’s soul to him. His body is still somewhat conscious, but his soul is trapped within her. It’s what fuels her siren powers. 

So they go to an oracle. Sonnet! Or maybe like… Tanga? Just did a quick google search there and I like that. And they tell the gang that in order for sirens to become human, they must marry a human. Then and only then can souls be turned to their rightful owners. 

Strike is unhappy to hear this because she doesn’t want to be anything but a siren. It’s who she is—so what if Crow doesn’t get his soul back? But Mako knows what he has to do and asks Gale to elope right then and there. And, flustered by his secret prince lover proposing to him in high heels and a mini skirt, Gale eagerly accepts. And Sonnet, by the divine power invested in them, ordains them right there and wouldn’t you know it Mako loses the blue fins by his ears and his sharp teeth. Marie’s like “yeah that was real lovey dovey but I want my brother back bitch” and strike’s like “hmm sorry no i think I’m going to keep him i don’t want to be a human” so Marie, as one does, threatens to kill her right there and tear his soul from her body herself. Strike takes this as a challenge and pulls her gun on her if she dares to attack her. 

Sonnet, rather timely, is like “WAIT wait wait there’s another way. Sit down angry girl with the big boobs and gun whatever your name is” and strike does sit down and sonnet grabs her hands and reads deep into her soul and they say “oh… you may be feisty and hardened on the outside, but deep deep down you had a soft spot for this boy. i can sense his presence in you and how he has changed you.” and strikes like “bullshit lol he didn’t change shit about me” and sonnets like “no he did. you knew you loved him but you refused to acknowledge it. you put your life as a siren and the destruction you wreak before any hope you had for him and you masked your love for him with lust, my friend. i’ll tell you this. i know a ritual that will allow you to split each others’ souls—Marie will have her beloved brother back and you won’t have to worry about ever stealing his soul again. You’ll be able to love him unabashedly, but you will forever be a part of each other. You must understand this is a major commitment, though… you should not make this just because some pirate girl threatened your life” and strike’s like “ehh idk crow was cool but idk about joint soul custody idk if I can make that commitment” and sonnet’s like “bitch i just went on a whole vague rant about how you’re meant to be with him. just do the damn ritual” and strike accepts bc she does love him deep down but doesn’t know how to express that yet. their souls will grow into each other over time. 

so they do… unknown really cool super awesome ritual I don’t know man I’m tired I want to go to bed. and crow’s soul returns to his body. and Marie and crow give up siren hunting if Strike promises not to steal any more men’s souls. and mako and gale live happily (freakily 😛) ever after THE END YAY!!!

[the-dalseum-duet]

THE CRITTERS

new strike and kai lore for fun. also minor mako lore that’s just silly @svwhssftr

STILL NO SHAM BORDER 💔

“Dad!” Strike shouted, eagerly stumbling into their home from the garage. “Come look at this!”

“Dear God, what has she done this time?” Kai sighed to himself, straightening his stack of grading before meeting her in their kitchen. She smugly grinned at him, twirling a keychain around her fingers. 

“Whose keys are those?” Kai asked, tired eyes fixed between her chipped black nails. 

“Mine.” 

“What do you mean—“

“Come to the garage.” She nonchalantly turned back to the door, still smiling like she was a kid in a candy store. Kai knew better than to assume the best. 

“If you stole something—“

“I didn’t steal anything. This was all hard-earned.” 

“I didn’t know you were capable of that.”

“Stop acting like you’re any better than me. Just come outside!” 

“I’m not sure if I want to know what’s out here.” Kai hesitantly followed his daughter’s rapid, energetic footsteps.

“Look at her.” Strike eagerly opened the door and grandly gestured to a shimmering black motorcycle in mint condition, complete with a helmet already engraved with her name—or, rather, her nickname. 

“How the hell did you pool enough money for this, Dani?” Kai rested his weight on the doorframe and crossed his arms. 

“You don’t want to know.”

“Anything illegal?”

“Not for the most part. Nothing traceable.” 

“Glad to know my good parental influence is working.” 

“A lot of guys bet that they could beat me in an arm wrestling match. That’s how I made most of the money. You’d be surprised how fucking stupid teenage boys are.”

“I’m around them all day. I know.” 

“She’s my darling. My pride and joy,” Strike said, stroking the handlebars down to the seat like she was caressing her long-lost lover. 

“Do I need to leave you two alone? This feels too intimate for a father to watch.” 

“Oh, shut up. God forbid a girl admire something she worked hard to purchase.” 

“Yeah, you seem like you worked hard.” 

“It was a two-person job. Mako helped. I promised I’d let him ride with me when he wants, don’t worry.”

“So you exploited your brother’s labor to buy yourself a motorcycle?”

“It wasn’t labor. He enjoyed every second of suck—“ Strike stopped herself and clicked her tongue. “Of helping, of helping me… pull weeds. At nursing homes.” 

“You pimped out your brother?” Kai pressed his hand into his temples. 

“He said he wanted the experience! I didn’t touch anyone I didn’t want to touch. My earnings were all from arm-wrestling.” 

“You made your brother suck dick so you could buy a fucking motorcycle?”

“It was his idea! Do you know how many guys would kill for a blowjob from me? A fucking ridiculous amount! But I retained my integrity. Really, you should be proud of me.”

“You pretending like you’re an innocent angel does not undo that you more or less sold your brother into prostitution, Dani.” 

“I let him keep half of his earnings. It was a perfectly fair trade. You’re acting like this is some dangerous underground ring. He sucked some private school down-low dick and pocketed their daddy’s money.”

“I assume there was no STD testing in this money laundering scheme?”

“Have you met your son?” Strike scoffed. “There was an extensive application process that required the most up-to-date medical records on sexual health.” 

“Mako had people filling out applications for blowjobs from him?”

“He’s a very pretty boy. A status symbol, almost. Well worth the twenty-five dollars per minute we charged—or so I’ve heard.”

“Twenty-five per minute?” 

“Yeah, we were making hundreds per week. Shame it’s over now, it was working pretty well.”

“I’m not sure if I’m proud or indescribably disgusted.”

“The two emotions can coexist.”

Kai deeply inhaled, his thoughts recollecting. “Do you even know how to drive that thing?”

“I’m getting the hang of it. I’ve been on a test drive or two with her, and we’re learning how to respond to each other’s needs—what makes us both feel good.”

“Dani. Stop talking about your motorcycle like you’re having sex with it. Having one slutty child is enough.” 

“I’m surprised you’ve never had a motorcycle. You’re all into modes of transportation.” 

“Oh, I’ve had my fair share of nights spent on the back of a motorcycle, speeding through town without a care in the world and cigarette ashes in my hair.” 

“That was too specific. You never yearn. Who’s this mysterious woman you’ve never told us about?” 

Kai flinched. “Woman, yeah, she, ah—I don’t know where she is these days. Couldn’t tell you if I tried.”

“I bet her son isn’t sucking dicks for twenty-five a minute.” 

“That’s a hard rate to compete with.” 

“You wanna go on a joyride with me? Relive your glory days?” Strike lifted her helmet and admired the etching before smiling at Kai. 

“No, I’m alright. I have enough grading on my plate—and a long conversation to have with your brother about self-worth.”

“Alright, then. I’m going to see Crow. I’ll be back before dinner.”

“Showing off your mistress to him?”

“Eh, he’s open-minded. We won’t care if we throw in a third.” 

“Good luck with that. Leftovers okay for dinner?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Strike clicked the button tucked into the side pocket of her backpack to open the garage door. “I’ll heat up whatever’s still left.”

“Love ya, kid.”

“You mean it?”

“No,” he lied, straight-faced. 

“Thought so,” she smiled as wide as she could before lowering her helmet’s shield, her feet steady as the engine revved awake. 

[the-dalseum-duet]

MY SHEYLAS

look we both said these scene would be silent but im a writer not a film director (yet) so I had to give it some dialogue. not that I couldn’t have written it silent. I just didn’t want to lmao @svwhssftr

NONEXISTENT SHAM BORDER👍

“Hmph,” Strike whimpered, biting her bottom lip as she ran her forearm underneath the sink’s cool water. Splatters of fresh blood tainted the white porcelain. A dismantled razor sat in the midst of it all, teasing her. The water reduced the stinging, if only for a second. 

It reminded her of the stream—of the koi fish, of Mako, of every perfect thing he did. His grades, his scholarships, his intelligence. She couldn’t think about him without her head rushing with jealousy anymore. Why wasn’t she succeeding? What was different about him? Why wasn’t she normal? Why couldn’t she just be normal?

But this was why. Because every time she thought about herself, she acted on the need to self-destruct—or maybe it was the need to toughen herself up. Either outcome was an improvement from her current state. She held her arms behind her back and flexed in the dull overhead lighting. She looked good. Her bulking was worth it. 

Maybe there was some sick beauty in the jumbled makeup of her body—in her perky tits and wide hips, in her distinct muscles, in the scars creeping around her thighs and arms. She was somehow every aspect of herself at once. She could never escape one or the other. 

She shut off the water and dried her arm with a nearby towel, configuring how to wrap it around herself for the night before the door beside her inched open. 

Her heart dropped. Her vision blurred. Her first instinct was to pry the towel from her arm and cover her chest, but she quickly realized her mistake as the blood smeared across her torso. 

“Dani.” 

She knew that voice. She knew that damn voice too well, but she couldn’t bring it upon herself to look at him. She stared deeply into the mess she made—the red splotches across the sink and rusted disfigured razors.

“Get out,” was all she mustered, clutching the towel to her chest. 

And he did. The door closed just as slowly as it had opened. She scrambled to clean up her blood as if it would undo any of what had happened. As if it would clear herself of any responsibility for the damage she wrought upon herself. If she looked clean, then she was clean. There was no wreckage if she never left a trace. 

As she scrubbed the last bit of the sink with soap and misted it with her perfume to mask the lingering odor of fresh blood, the door opened again. 

“Where did you cut?”

“Leave.” She slipped on an old t-shirt—one of Kai’s old concert shirts, which was truthfully stolen from Noeul. 

“Dani, where did you cut yourself?”

“I said leave.” 

“Do you want an infection?”

“I haven’t gotten one yet.” 

“How long have you been doing this?”

“I don’t know.”

“Great.” Kai unraveled a strip of gauze. “Give me your arm.” 

“I don’t need that.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Everyone’s going to know—“

“And they won’t be able to see the fucking gashes on your arm?” 

Strike didn’t respond. She limply reached her arm out to him in defeat. 

“Fucking hell, Strike,” Kai muttered, gently squeezing her arm as he studied her bleeding wounds. 

She didn’t respond. He started just below her elbow and quickly wrapped her, the pressure somehow worse than the cuts. His unconfident movements and intent stare reminded her of the nights he spent perched behind her, attempting to braid her hair and eventually settling on a low-effort ponytail adorned with a ribbon. In a way, the two actions were the same—a failed attempt to show he cared for her but didn’t have it in him to address the root of the issue. 

She sharply inhaled as the blood started to soak through the off-white gauze. 

“What?” he snapped. 

“It hurts. It’s too tight.”

“Oh, and slicing yourself open didn’t?”

Strike, yet again, didn’t have a response. Maybe she would have if it hadn’t been three in the morning and if her wits had been about her. But she barely knew how old she was—she felt like a child again. 

“You should be good,” Kai whispered. “I’ll leave this here in case you need more, but you need to go to bed.” 

“That’s all you’re going to say?”

“What else do you want me to say? I’m not going to have a coronary and wake up Mako.”

Mako. Of course. Because everything had to revolve around Mako.

“I don’t know,” Strike murmured, blinking her exhausted eyes. 

“See, I wake up to take a piss, and I have to deal with you slinging your blood all over the damn place. It’s always something new in this house.” 

“It could have been worse. I didn’t have a shirt on at first.” 

“Eh, you can get blood on that shirt, I don’t care.” 

“Good to know. It’ll be my go-to cutting shirt now.” 

Kai choked back a laugh before patting her on the back. “You’re seriously fucked up. You should be glad I haven’t sent you to an institution.”

“Only because they’d take you right along with me.”  She smiled. She was profusely bleeding from multiple self-inflicted wounds, and she was smiling.

A heavy silence filled the air as Strike washed the last of the blood beneath her nails. She stared at her reflection in the mirror, bare-faced and sticky. She looked like a child. To Kai, she was a child. 

As she went to leave, he wrapped his arms under hers and rested his chin on the top of her head, trapping her in the first hug she had received in too many years. She instinctively relaxed, wrapping her shivering arms around his back. 

And they stood there holding each other beneath the dull overhead light, blood seeping through her gauze. That was the way it was for them—and they both knew it was the way it always would be. 

[the-dalseum-duet]

Canon

@svwhssftr shoutout for the kai art

[the-dalseum-duet]

scissor me timbers

no intro for this one. the closest thing to smut you’ll be getting from me in the next year. it’s pretty mild tho. if you hate this im not that attached to it. it’s just the aura ig @svwhssftr

“Shirogane!” Gale said, using his shoulder to press his phone to his ear as he pinned lace to the underside of a skirt. “Just the man I needed to have a chat with.”

“You called me. Don’t act like this is a coincidence. The hell do you need?”

“You know how Charlie and Noeul are getting married in a few weeks?”

“Really? Hadn’t heard a single thing about it.”

Gale rolled his eyes. “Well, Charlie wanted your help getting a gift together for him.”

“Okay. How much do I need to chip in?”

“Nothing monetary.”

“Noeul only wants money and sex. I don’t like where this is heading.”

“You’re on the right track!”

“Why the fuck is Blaire involved in this?”

“She wants to do a boudoir photo album for him, and she wanted you to be in a few pictures with her.”

Kai cleared his throat. “She what?”

“She’s not an idiot, Kai. She knows Noeul is as enamored with you as he is with her.” 

“Noeul’s relationship with her is entirely different than his relationship with me.”

“Of course it is. Noeul actually likes her. He just wants to shag you.” 

“Thanks for stating the obvious. I can always count on you, Porter.”

“Your words mean nothing. If you really want to express your gratitude, I expect you to tip the photographer.

“Will my actual tip being on display be enough?” 

“I take it that means you’ll do it?” 

“Sure. Blaire’s pretty conservative; I doubt it’ll be anything I’ve never done before.”

But he was quickly proven wrong as he anxiously tilted his face toward Gale’s camera, bare pussy inches away from Charlie’s with their ankles interlocked. 

“Kai, you look nervous,” Gale laughed, gesturing for him to lean further into her. 

“Charlie, you’re sure you’re okay with this?” he whispered. 

“Oh, honey, don’t worry about me,” she said. “This is for Noeul. Not for me.” 

“I’m not one to be squeamish about things like this, but it feels weird to get this close to someone’s fiancée, you know?”

“Just pretend like I’m him. You’re comfortable enough around him, aren’t you?”

“Is anyone comfortable around him?”

Charlie brightly laughed. “Oh, absolutely not. That’s why I asked you to do this.”

“What do you mean?”

“He has needs that I can’t fulfill, and I have needs he can’t fulfill. I’m secure enough in our relationship to admit that you don’t threaten me.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, threw her head back, and smiled at Gale’s camera.

“I mean, I clearly don’t threaten you. We’re borderline scissoring right now.” 

“Do you want to? Actually?”

Kai stared directly at Gale like he was the camera recording the sitcom that was his life in Dalseum. “You heard that too, right?”

“I did,” Gale peeped. 

“Noeul would love it, trust me.” Charlie ran her fingers through her bouncy curls. “He’s said he wanted to do threesomes between us before.”

“And you’re fine with that? I thought you were, like, little miss vanilla. I’ve frankly learned more about you than I ever wanted to know.” 

“Yeah. Unless you don’t want to. I’d never force anyone into anything they don’t want.” 

Kai’s eyes instinctively glanced down at her perky B-cup tits sitting pretty above his hands. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” he muttered. “You’re not really my type, but you’re not bad to look at. I see why Noeul wants to commit to you.” 

“Yeah, you’re far from attractive to me, but I prefer sex with less penises.”

Kai pursed his lips. “What the hell does that mean?”

“They’re just gross. Not a fan. I’d like an excuse to get away from his in bed.” 

Kai turned his neck to Gale again. “You’re hearing all of this, too?”

“My job is to take the pictures,” he said, lifting his hands to feign innocence. 

“Then why are you marrying him?” Kai asked. 

“He’s good to me, and we love each other. Sex isn’t everything in a marriage.” 

“Are you sure you love him? Or do you just like that he’s into you?” Kai internally screamed, but he chose not to break up an engagement that day. Instead he settled on, “Yeah, I guess so.” 

“So do you want to get closer, or..?”

“Fuck it, sure.” As he felt his folds brush against hers, he could smell her arousal mixed with her peach-scented body lotion. She did smell good. Really, he wasn’t opposed to giving her body a chance. 

“Damn it,” Charlie whispered, her face flushing and eyes widening. “Sorry, sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” 

“Now, look at the camera. Sultry. Seductive.” Gale snapped at them, pointing at his lens. As it shuttered, her wetness trickled onto his thigh. 

“Someone’s excited,” Kai joked, truly unsure what else to say. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she stuttered, her jittery eyes resting between his thighs. “It’s not you. Shit, this is so embarrassing. It’s nothing. It’s nothing.” 

“You discover something about yourself?” he grinned. 

“It’s not you that I’m into, not at all, but—“

“You like pussy?”

“Yeah,” she shakily said. “God, yes.” 

“That’s alright. Noeul’s the biggest pussy I know. You’re in good hands.”

Charlie laughed louder than he had ever heard her before. He awkwardly laughed along, unsure where the consequences of his actions could lead. The lens shuttered again, effectively capturing the only image in the album where Charlie was genuinely happy.

“Well, I think I’ve gotten… plenty of you two,” Gale awkwardly said. “Kai, you’re free to go. Charlie, do you want any more?”

“Can I take more with him?” she asked, eyes watering. 

“Honey, I think you need some time to digest all that just happened here,” Gale said. 

“Yeah, this is—this is a lot of new information,” Kai added. 

“I probably should go,” she admitted. “This was fun, though. Thanks for showing up, Kai, I know this was weird—“

“I’ve been fucking Noeul for years. Trust me, this is not weird.”

“And thank you for putting up with us, Gale,” she laughed, slowly wiping between her legs with a towel Gale slid over to her—he always came prepared. 

“This was one of the most fascinating photoshoots I’ve done in a while,” he said. “Thank you for being so entertaining.” 

“Anytime, luv,” Charlie said as she slipped on her underwear, imitating his accent. 

Kai snuck behind her to retrieve his sweatshirt. “And hey,” he whispered, “if you ever have any questions about… any of what was discussed today, I’ll probably have answers. If not, I can figure it out.” 

“Thank you so much. Again, I’m so sorry that you were the one who had to—“

“No, stop apologizing. There’s nothing to apologize for.” He clicked his tongue. “Actually, if you’d want to mess around a little while you’re hot and bothered, I’ve got nothing going on today.” 

“Oh, no, I couldn’t do that. I can’t even think about doing anything with someone other than Noel.” 

“He fucks around with me all the time. You said it yourself—you have needs he can’t fulfill. How is this any different?” 

“Shit.” Charlie intensely glared at him. “You’re right. Where should we go?” 

“Trust me, I know the best places to discretely fuck around this Palace.”

“But we’re not fucking. We’re just experimenting.” 

“Right, right. I’m just walking you through it.”

“Right. Just two friends helping each other.”

“Now you’re catching on.” He winked.

“I feel so gross. I’m really not into you, I swear, it’s just—“

“No, I get it. I’m gay as hell, and even I can admit pussy is enticing. Dicks are weird.” 

“You’re preaching to the choir.” 

“Meet me behind the curtains of the platform in the ballroom. I’ll bring some lube, but from the looks of you, you won’t be needing it.” 

“No, Noeul and I use lube every time we do anything.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah. It hurts unless he does.”

“Are you just not wet?”

“I guess not.”

“Does Noeul not turn you on?”

“His face does. His body… not as much.” 

“Charlie, are you sure you’re not a lesbian?”

Charlie blinked. “No. There’s no way I could be a lesbian. I’m in love with Noeul. I’m marrying him.” 

“Dear God,” Kai whispered. “You know what, this is your business, not mine. Just meet me in the ballroom in a few minutes.” 

“I’ll be there.”

[the-dalseum-duet]

college au revival. I love these fuckers

something I’ve been thinking about for a minute. just one of the handful of things I’ve meant to do. I’ve literally had this idea since last month so. lil bit of new info.  update after I finished this: this became something entirely unexpected but I hope you find it as funny as I did

finally returning to writing tag @svwhssftr

Mako folded his hands over his stomach and turned his head to peek at his bedside clock.

One in the morning. He had been awake all night. 

Crow had been, too, working on God-knew-what for one of his classes. Mako was never quite sure which classes he had—his major seemed to change every week. 

“Crow?” Mako weakly said, lifting his freakishly long legs to kick the divot above him where Crow would be. 

“Huh?” Crow drowsily responded, shifting his position. 

“I’ve been thinking.”

“You do too much of that.” 

“I want to know what you think.”

“I don’t think.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Are you going to tell me, or are you just going to sit there all mysterious?” 

“I was helping Gale for one of his fashion projects the other day, and we were going through all that he had made, and he was like ‘You can take anything you might want.’ And I was like, ‘None of this is stuff I would wear.’ But he was like, ‘At least try something on. You have the perfect model silhouette.’ So, I just took two random things he picked out and tried them on.”

“What does this have to do with anything?”

“It was, like, this really fluttery top and super short skirt. And I felt ridiculous. But he was all like, ‘You look stunning, go look in a mirror.’ And I did.”

“What, did you break it because you were so ugly?”

“Fuck you. No.”

Crow softly laughed. “Sorry, continue.” 

“I loved it.”

“You did?” Crow smiled. 

“It just felt right, something about it.”

“Then you should model for him. Why is this so difficult for you?”

“It’s deeper than just liking how I looked. I don’t know.”

“You think you’re trans or something?”

“No. I’m a guy. I couldn’t imagine being a woman. That’s not for me.”

“Yeah. It wasn’t too great, from my experience.”

“But you’re more or less a guy, and you wear skirts and makeup and shit all the time. I don’t know why this is fucking with me.” 

“I wear long goth skirts and eyeliner and shit. Everything I do is in an androgynous 80’s way. You don’t seem to be buying into that shtick.”

“Yeah, it’s not like… whatever gender you are. Do you label yourself?”

“I’m if Danny Elfman vomited up Robert Smith’s leftovers. That’s how I label myself.”

“That means nothing to me.”

“Yeah, exactly.” 

“Do I even have to label myself?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Should I be concerned about this? I mean, I liked being perceived like that. Something softer. Something feminine.” 

“I wouldn’t be concerned.” 

Mako crossed his legs at his knees and deeply sighed. “Like, I wouldn’t mind getting dressed up like that and going out, you know? Being seen like that and not just… some guy all of the time.” 

“Understandable frustration.”

“When I think of myself, I think of what you see. Normal looking dude. Voice may be a dead giveaway that I’m not exactly straight, but—“

“Yeah, you talk like a valley girl.” 

“Hm. I like who I am, but I would also be happy as whoever I saw in that mirror covered in ruffles and pleats and glitter.” 

“Maybe get into drag.” 

“I don’t like drag. Too uncanny valley.”

“That’s why drag is fun, though.”

“I don’t want to look like a guy putting on a show. I want to look like how I looked in that mirror.” 

“Who did you look like?”

“Me. But she wasn’t me.”

“She?”

“Fuck.”

Crow grinned like a possum. “You like ‘she?’”

Mako smothered himself with his pillow. “No, no I don’t.”

“Don’t be embarrassed if you do! It’s better to be happy with yourself than embarrassed about what never was.” 

Mako threw down his pillow. “I did. I like ‘she.’”

“Look, this probably means nothing to you, but tall androgynous girls are hot as fuck. You’re not losing anything if you decide on this.”

“I don’t want to lose who I already am. I like ‘he.’”

“You can do both. Thoughts on ‘they?’”

“Eh. It’s fine. Whatever.”

“Alright. No particular feelings there. Got it.”

“I don’t want to have to change myself. That’s the issue.”

“You’re not changing yourself. You’re discovering what can make you better.” 

“I guess so. It just seems like a lot of work.”

“But dressing yourself up is fun. You said it yourself.” 

“It is fun. And I looked really pretty. Gale knows what he’s doing.”

“Have you told him about this?”

Mako sighed. “No. I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“He’s gay. He’s not into women in the slightest. Not that I would be a woman, but I wouldn’t always be a man, you know?”

“Yeah, I can’t help you there. Strike thinks my fucked-up gender is sexy.” 

“Thanks for sharing that my sister’s into that. Needed to know that.” 

“You’re welcome. I doubt Gale will care that much if he liked you in that outfit.” 

“Yeah, that’s true.”

“She, she,” Crow repeated to himself. “This is my friend Mako. She’s majoring in biology. Isn’t she the biggest dork you’ve ever met?”

“What are you doing?” Mako giggled.

“Practicing for you so I don’t mess up.” 

“You don’t have to always do that. People will think I’m a guy. It’s okay.” 

“So, you like both she and he for yourself?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

“Sweet. Glad we got that worked out. Now go to bed.” 

“Is there, like, a word I should know? If someone asks why?”

“You can say it’s none of their business.”

“But if they’re like, ‘Oh, are you trans?’ what should I say? Because I’m not. But I’m also not not.”

“Just say you don’t like to label it.”

“But I have to label everything or else I’ll explode.” 

“That’s your prerogative. Just from this conversation, your gender seems pretty fluid.” 

“Genderfluid? I’m alright with that.”

“It’s weird at first, but you get used to it. Trust me, you’ll feel so much better in your skin once you start getting into the groove of it.” 

“Fuck, I’ll have to tell my dad. He’s going to make fun of me so bad.”

“Isn’t he pretty accepting?”

“Oh, he won’t care that I’m not cis or whatever, he’ll just think it’s funny that I’m doing all this for some slutty skirts and blouses.”

“That is kinda funny,” Crow murmured. 

“Well, at least he’ll finally have one full daughter. Strike barely counts as a woman, so I can make up for the other half.” 

Crow laughed. “Tell you what, her tits let you know—“

“I’m going to stop you right there. I’m going to bed.”

“Strike’s gonna make fun of you, too, by the way.”

“Eh, I don’t care what she has to say.” 

“Good move.” 

Mako clutched Mother as she curled her legs to her chest. “God, I’m exhausted. G’night.”

“Sweet dreams.”

Click.

Mako’s body lightened as she neared her first decent sleep of the week.

Squish. Squish. Squish.

“The fuck is that?” she murmured. There was no response. 

Squish. “Hnngh.”

“Crow!” she snapped.

“Hm?”

“Are you seriously flicking your bean right now?”

“Why does it matter to you?”

“I can hear it!”

“Chances are, you’re about to smell it, too.” 

“You are so fucking gross.” 

“Your fault for mentioning Strike’s tits.” 

“You were the one who brought that up!”

“Damn it, shut up, I’m close. You’re ruining the mood.” 

“Get your hands out of your nasty crotch and go to bed!” 

“Fuck!” he sharply inhaled.

“Did you just—“ 

“Don’t worry, I had a towel down.” 

“You just keep a cum rag up there?”

“You don’t?”

“No!” Mako exclaimed. 

“Eh, that tracks, Gale isn’t much to jerk off to.” 

“You’ve never fucked him. You wouldn’t know.”

“Yeah, thank God.” 

“It’s nice to hear that accent begging at your feet for your cock. Just throwing that out there.”

“That just dried me out. You won’t have to worry about me doing this again tonight.” 

“Good. Your cum smells awful.” 

“Ask your sister how it tastes next time.” 

“You are a seriously depraved individual.” 

“At least I don’t prance around with my cock tucked under tiny skirts and flouncy blouses, whatever that means.” 

“Are you seriously being transphobic to me? This early?”

“It’s how I show my love.” 

“Yeah, I prefer that to the fish fry you just had up there.” 

“You chose to room with me.” 

“Yeah, that was before you started fucking my bitchass sister.” 

“And I chose this before you started shagging the world’s most obnoxious, pretentious fag known to man. He deserves to get pegged. I hope it hurts.” 

“I try not to—“

“I’ll think about you next time I see him walking a little funny.” 

“I’ll fuck him extra hard next time, just for you. His cum smells much better than yours, anyway.”

“Probably smells like fish and chips.”

“Fuck you!” Mako cackled. 

“Your sister already does that for me. She’s your dad’s favorite, by the way.” 

“At least my dad’s alive.” 

“Alright, bud, I say we call this one a truce.”

“I’m sorry. Was that too far?”

“That’s what Strike asks me every time we—“

“I’m going to kill you with my bare hands.” 

“I take that as a forfeit. Ha! I win another round of senseless insults.” 

“You have way too much time to think on your hands. Go to bed.” 

Crow expertly threw his cloth over his bed into his laundry basket. “I should probably do that.”

[the-dalseum-duet]

somehow gained consciousness last night and lost all desire to write anything freaky and instead focus on core themes and build them bro my frontal cortex is redeveloping

[the-dalseum-duet]

RADIOACTIVE yuri

Trader Joe’s but lore accurate. tagging u bc you’ll enjoy this even though it’s morally reprehensible to do so @svwhssftr

“Fuck!” Strike screamed, her knees folding as she slammed an empty glass bottle onto her wall. Shards of glass scattered, slicing the skin above her dirtied combat boots. She heavily breathed, her back arched and her arms shaking. 

Crow knew better than to speak. 

“I’m so fucking tired!” she barked. “He gets away with every-fucking-thing. Why does he get every damn thing he wants? I have nothing! I have nothing going for me. I’m done with this shit. I have no reason to be alive right now. It’s all a loop—train, go home, drink to feel something, kill to make myself feel something, whatever. I’m never making it out. I’m gonna kill myself before I do.”

She wasn’t talking to him. She was talking to herself. There was some strange magic in the way her eyes softened at his body curled on her bed, clutching a pillow—some sort of feigned sympathy and long-lost innocence. 

“Oh, but you’re just like me. You aren’t making it out of this shithole either. You have nowhere else to go, and neither do I. We only have each other. We’re fuckin’ poison, but it’s better than the alternative.” 

There was no use in correcting her. She wasn’t listening to him. 

“Really, it’s true. We’re gonna rot here in this stuck-up, shit-faced town. But you make it bearable, baby.” Strike lifted a shard of her bottle from her carpet, stained with blood, and tucked it into the waist of her cargo pants. She haphazardly removed her sun-faded Rob Zombie shirt before aimlessly scratching her back, her quivering fingers caught between her bra straps.

“Take it off of me. Do whatever you want. You know what works.” She smiled. Her smile was damn pretty. In the moment, it could make anyone forget all that was wrong with her. Her legs buckled as she collapsed across from him on the bed, and he easily unhooked the back of her bra. Her tan lines were still visible in the dark, her muscles and scars defined by the flickering lamplight. 

“Okay,” she breathed, straddling him as she reached into her pocket. “You’re okay?”

Crow nodded as her weight sank into his hips. Strike gently cupped his face and kissed him, cheap booze rancid on her breath. Her other hand unbuttoned his jean shorts and fumbled through his peekaboo boxers, teasing him. He softly whimpered and his ankle twitched. She paused. 

“No, not now. I’m not in the mood for that. You’re not in the mood for that. Let me just—“ 

She yanked down his boxers further, fully exposing him, before slicing open his thigh with her shard of glass. He yelped, and she stifled his mouth with her hand. 

“Don’t complain. This is why I love you.” She smiled again as she removed her hand and adjusted her thong strap. “Be quiet for me, okay?” 

“Okay,” Crow whispered. 

“Your voice is so pretty when you’re tired. You’re so perfect, everything about you. Like a little doll.” She dug the shard further into this thigh, making more horizontal cuts. He blinked back tears as he suppressed his vocal cords. 

“Does that feel good?” she asked, tracing the fresh wounds with her hand. Crow nodded. She bent down to kiss them, the alcohol still fresh on her lips burning the open cuts. 

“This is hotter than sex. If I could, I’d cut you open and gut you and stuff you to make my sex doll, but you’re one of the few living people I can stand. I need you around. I can’t do that.” She tugged on the collar of his shirt as she spoke, admiring the speckles around his collarbones. “I wish you’d tell me more of your fantasies. I like it when you’re perverted. I know it’s in you, baby. You’re just as fucked-up as I am deep down. You know I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I’ll be okay,” he whispered. 

“You wanna know what I was thinking about the other night? While I was masturbating.” Strike cleared her throat. “I kill Mako. I kill my dad, too, actually. I desecrate their bodies entirely—rip out their nails, their hair, their eyes, their teeth, whatever I can get my hands on. I tie them up and let their bodies dry out. I skin them, then I take the best parts of their meat and eat it raw. I bury their bones in the backyard, and their brains, too, so they really know what’s going on. I call you over, we drink their blood, and I get you pregnant right over their graves.”

The only sound in the room was her rickety box fan whirring. “I wish I had a dick to come inside you. Like, really stretch you open. I want to feel you around me.” 

“Yeah,” Crow peeped. 

“You always look so pretty riding my strap. Like when you come and I can feel it on me? But I like missionary, too. I like any position with you. You’re so fucking pretty. I love you so much.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“I like missionary because I can pin down your wrists. I like it when you lose all control. You’re so wild-eyed when you’re panicked. It’s cute. Like right now, I can tell you’re freaked out by me. But kind of turned on, aren’t you?” 

Crow didn’t respond. Strike gutturally chuckled. 

“I don’t want to do anything tonight, though. I can’t even see straight. I’ll see you in the morning.” She sprawled herself over his lap and closed her eyes, her neck going limp as soon as she relaxed. Crow wrapped her t-shirt around the wounds on his thigh, then fell asleep next to her.

[the-dalseum-duet]

happy aapi month here are 2 evil gay Asian men to celebrate

blue moon header isn’t loading pretend it’s here

A quick phone call transcript. Light Kohls angst? Just Noeul being a dick tbh @svwhssftr

[RING. RING.]

NOEUL: Hello?

KAI: Dude, where the hell are you?

NOEUL: Why do you want to know?

KAI: I just talked to Sara, and she said you’ve been gone for months. Forgive me for being curious.

NOEUL: Why were you talking to Sara?

KAI: I was at the Palace.

NOEUL: And why were you at the Palace?

[PAUSE]

NOEUL: You said you were done with the Council.

KAI: I was done with the Council.

NOEUL: Then why were you there?

KAI: I don’t know. Needed a change of scenery–why do you care so much?

NOEUL: You were trying to find me.

KAI: I was not trying to–

NOEUL: You were trying to find me. I was right.

KAI: It doesn’t matter why I was there, okay? You have responsibilities here, and Sara doesn’t even know where you are. She and Gale are losing their fuckin’ minds out there.

NOEUL: Sara knows exactly where I am. I’ve updated her multiple times. 

KAI: I trust her more than I trust you.

NOEUL: You trusted me enough to come back to the Palace, didn’t you?

KAI: That’s not why I was there!

NOEUL: I know you weren’t there for Sara or Gale. 

KAI: Stop dodging my questions. Where are you?

NOEUL: I’m doing Council recruitment, dumbass. Since it fell apart, we need to rebuild it. I’m taking care of the responsibilities you’re suddenly preaching about. 

KAI: God forbid I show some concern for the state of the Council.

NOEUL: You didn’t give two shits about the Council while we were together.

KAI, laughing: Since when were we together?

NOEUL: Fine. Does ‘while we were fucking’ sound better to you?

KAI: It’s closer to the truth.

NOEUL: So, how are things going with Belle?

[KAI sighs]

KAI: It’s fine.

NOEUL: Just because I’m not there doesn’t mean I don’t know what’s happening.

KAI: You’re not mysterious. Gale sticks his nose everywhere he shouldn’t be. I know he tells you everything. 

NOEUL: You can’t lie to me, Kai. I know you came crawling back to me after he changed his mind about you. He does it to everyone. I don’t know why you thought you were the exception.

KAI: This has nothing to do with Adam. We were coworkers. That was it. 

NOEUL: Hm, I’ve received some pictures that contradict that.

KAI: We were acting, dumbass. You, of all people, should know that slutting yourself out in the Cocktail quarters is profitable.

NOEUL: But Belle still left you.

KAI: He didn’t feel safe anymore. This had nothing to do with me. Hell, he offered me a job at his new place.

NOEUL: Did you take it?

KAI: No, it didn’t pay as much.

NOEUL: You have no reason to worry about money. You just didn’t want to be where I couldn’t see you. 

KAI: Oh my God, you are so comically self-centered.

NOEUL: Dalseum revolves around me. I have to be self-centered.

KAI: You are so corny.

NOEUL, away from the phone: What was that?

KAI: What?

NOEUL, away from the phone: Oh, just someone from home checking in on me. Everything’s fine. 

KAI: Who the hell is that?

CHARLIE, closer to the phone: I was just wondering if we were still on for tonight.

NOEUL: Yeah, of course.

CHARLIE: I’m still driving?

NOEUL: Only if you want.

CHARLIE: I just wanted to know. I needed to get gas beforehand, anyway.

NOEUL: What time were our reservations, again?

CHARLIE: Seven-thirty.

NOEUL: I’ll start getting ready, then.

[NOEUL lifts the phone’s speaker closer to himself again]

NOEUL: On that note, I think this conversation is over.

KAI: Yeah, you sound like you’re busy recruiting for the Council. Fuckin’ whore.

NOEUL: I’m not the one crawling back to my ex after my little boy toy ran off. 

KAI: I am not crawling back to you! And we were never together!

NOEUL: Whatever. I don’t have the mental strength to deal with you right now.

KAI: Fuck off.

NOEUL: I did–for a reason. 

KAI: I hope you never come back.

NOEUL: Oh, don’t worry, I will. Just not for you.

[END CALL]

[the-dalseum-duet]

Charlie wouldn’t stand for this

[the-dalseum-duet]

haha vent post im so fucking tired it’s killing me it’s killing me anyway none of that matters! none of that matters you’re all here for the bird boy!

Bzz. Click. 

Fuck. 

Sticky. Chipped nail polish. Was that freckle there before? Probably not cancer. Too many pens. He needed to put them back in the drawer. His stomach hurt. Had he eaten? He forgot to eat lunch. The bottom layer of his hair was greasy. When had he showered last? Three days ago. He went out to that record store. He didn’t buy anything, but he didn’t need anything. Three days wasn’t terrible. 

His stomach hurt. It wasn’t just the nausea, it was the guilt, too. Of everything. He couldn’t keep up anymore. His hands were sticky. He could clean up the pens later. He could pick up his clothes later. He needed to shower first. 

There was so much noise outside. He liked that about Eden Grove. He liked the sounds of the grasshoppers and cicadas at night. He felt less alone. He was tired of feeling alone. His phone buzzed again. He was tired of feeling alone when he wasn’t.

He yanked a pair of oversized shorts and a t shirt from the pile beneath his bed. The shorts used to be Charlie’s. They were older than he was. He was so small. Everything about him was so small. He was exhausted by his own smallness, by his inability to reach any metric. There was nothing right about him, it seemed. Not anymore.

But he was happier. He should be happier. People loved him, and he usually loved them back. It was just different. He didn’t like different. There was no reason for them to love him. There was nothing about him that was worthy of love—he was a rapidly spiraling adult (fuck) with a comically low BMI and an unhealthy addiction to his rose toy and creamy gel pens. For entirely different reasons. The bathroom mirror taunted him. It knew what he was doing. It knew what he thought about. Only he knew all his secrets, but Crow wasn’t the Crow other people knew. There was a difference. The Crow other people knew was witty and charming and perfectly poised upon a pedestal. Crow wasn’t any of that. He was greasy, and his stomach hurt, and he needed to fucking shower. God.

But the water was warm, and showers were routine. He liked that. The liked the familiarity of the suds in his hair and the ridges of his soap between his fingers and the smell of his conditioner. They were friends to him. They were always there. There was nothing better than feeling clean, even if he wasn’t. Even if his outward appearance could never change that he wasn’t. 

His makeup ran off his face into little dark puddles around his cheeks. His tits were nice. He rested his fingers outside his hip dips. He was sexy. He wasn’t, but he surely had an audience. No one would know if he started a secret OF to make more money, right? But he would never do that. He couldn’t do that. That was too weird. He didn’t want to be objectified. Maybe he was just an attention whore. It wasn’t a maybe—he was an attention whore.

But for an attention whore, he sure hated attention. He checked his phone. Five missed messages from Mako. 

Send him a picture of yourself naked. No. Fuck. God, fuck no. His neck ticked. His stomach still hurt. Fuck. Fuck. He was so gross. 

Mako was busy, anyway. Mako didn’t even fucking care about him. Crow was far from perfect. He was gross, and he was selfish, and unworthy of everything. Mako was just pretending to like him. He had no reason to be friends with him. Crow was pathetic. Really, he was. Shutting himself out was doing everyone a favor. His own vision of himself overshadowed the Crow that people loved. That wasn’t Crow, really. Crow was really the gross, half naked creature picking gel pens off his bed. 

He glanced at his notifications again. 

Strike. Fuck.

No, no. He couldn’t respond. He shouldn’t. Because she knew Crow was gross and saw the pedestal anyway. She showed him every bit of affection she could, but, surely, she didn’t actually care about him. She was just being nice. Even though she was never fucking nice. There was no reason for her to be acting like she was. She would leave him eventually. It was better to forget about her. About her touch on his cheek, about that look in her eyes, about…

Fuck. He was gross. He was so gross. He had no reason to be acting like he was. She didn’t fucking care. She didn’t fucking care. Maybe if he kept repeating it, he would believe it. He would have an excuse to self-destruct. Because just like a shower, self-destruction was familiar. It was a friend. It was warm. Even if it hurt, it was better than whatever would hurt him later. It was worth risking all of the joy he could feel for it. 

Oh, fuck. Preacher’s Daughter restocked. He would have a reason to spend money at that record store.