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oakparchment · 6 months

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Best Friends With Benefits

Lisa x Rosé x Male Reader

Length: 8045 words

Tags: double blowjob, double handjob, dirty talk, anal sex, strip tease, clothed sex, spit kink, hair-pulling, feet play, creampie, cum swapping

Summary: you find out that Chaelisa know each other a bit too well to just be platonic besties.

AO3

Chapter 1 - Tell me your 𝓯𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓮𝓼

"Do you ever get horny during idol work? Like what do you do when you get wet on set?" You opened up the conversation with a bold question. Worrying that you had jumped the gun and made them feel uncomfortable, you held you breath whilst waiting for a response. Your worries were waved away when Lisa glanced over at Rosé, whose lips had turned upwards on one side. Lisa stifled a giggle. "Are you kidding? We're only human. Some of the outfits I see the other members in gets me riled up and I have to rub one out in the bathroom, or if there’s no time then work is work and we just gotta wait until our schedule is over. But we always deal with it, eventually.”

Lisa sipped on her wine, her eyes never breaking contact with you as she did so. Sitting in Rosé’s apartment, you felt a little tense before the two idols. Mirroring Lisa’s actions, you drank from your glass, hoping a slight buzz might help relieve your nervousness.

Rosé offered a related experience "One time, we were at the recording studio and everyone else had clocked off. I could tell it was one of those days for Lisa, and she was desperate to go home so she could… y'know, relax. Instead, I left the mic recording, dragged us into the booth, and locked the door. I finger fucked the life out of her and that was the day where she squirted in our own recording booth." The nature of the story was already so slutty, but the way Rosé spoke it with her Aussie accent made you want to explore her mouth and hear her whisper into your ear.

Lisa sat up from where her elbow was leaning against Rosé's couch. She had a super crop top on, the ones that only cover your arms and shoulders, whilst her bralette was worn below it. This left a small window of exposed skin on her chest, including the slight curves you could see from her tits, as well as her tight abs. "We obviously weren't right up against the mic, so when we listened back to it you can mostly only hear distant moans and muffled wet sounds. Still exported the audio and took it home though."

"I'd love to hear it." You blurted out without thinking, though there was no regret.

"Maybe we can show you the recording... but the live version sounds better." From your peripherals, Rosé's coy smile turned into a wide eyed expression at what her best friend had just said. Lisa knew how to deliver lines.

You were glad you initially steered the conversation in this direction, because they had taken the reigns and driven it full force.

"Well, this TMI got way out of hand, though I don't think you're complaining." Rosé looked down at your bulge and then up at you. "Are there any fantasies you've had about us?"

"Or have you just jerked off to our pictures?" chimed in Lisa. "It's okay, you can answer honestly... Sometimes when I'm alone and porn isn't doing it for me, I scroll through my Rosie wank bank and get off to her. It usually works".

"Lisa!" Rosé's blush was accompanied by a mischievous smile. "Wait... Only usually?"

"Relax, when it's not enough I whip out one of our recordings."

You can't help but notice that Lisa said recordings, plural.

"You watch them without me? said Rosé whilst pouting her lips.

"Sorry babe, you know I can't help myself sometimes."

At this point you're at full mast and could listen to them talk about these things forever, but without wanting to fade into the background, you speak up. "Okay, the thought of that is unbelievably hot and I have so many questions.” You paused to think momentarily. “Why don't we play a little game, I'll tell you about one of my fantasies if you tell me one of yours".

Rosé raises her eyebrows. "So you do fantasize about us?"

"The secret's out, I guess." You said in a playful way, knowing full well that no one in this room thought that was a secret.

"Okay, we'll take you up on this game, since there's two of us and one of you, we'll start." Rosé looks over to Lisa after saying this.

Lisa claps her hands together. "Well seeing as you mentioned that their were three of us... I want to be eaten out and fucked at the same time."

The fact that Lisa said this with the implication being Rosé and yourself made you audibly groan. This might be a lot more wild than you initially thought.

"You really dived into the deep end huh Lili." Rosé spoke aloud the thought you had.

"Mine might seem a bit tame in comparison, but I've kinda got a thing for legs." As you say this, your eyes trail over to Rosé. Unlike Lisa, she was in full comfy mode, wearing a tight blue top that to your delight exposed her toned midriff. Below that were her slim legs, which in her high waisted sweatpants looked particularly long. Rosé was watching you scan her legs, and noticed when your focus didn't stop at her ankles but kept venturing further down to her bare feet. You quickly looked up to her face hoping she wasn't overly observant, but she returned your gaze with a knowing look.

"You like my legs? I'm sure there's something we can do about that." she said whilst shuffling closer to you on the tiled floor, stretching her legs out teasingly so that they were within arms reach of you. "I suppose it's my turn then. Hmm..." Rosé tilted her face to one side and looked up as she gave it a moment of thought. "I'd like to take a guy's load and share it with another girl."

You could barely believe the words that were coming out of their mouths. Rosé had already pointed out the bulge in your pants a few minutes ago, and had now decided to do something about it. Having already moved closer, Rosé lifted her leg and placed a foot on your hardness. It would be ignorant of you to think that idols would always have perfectly prim and pristine bodies from head to toe, but in Rosé's case this seemed to be true.

Lisa bit her lip and crossed her legs over as she watched her friend make her advances. Rosé simply looked at you whilst gently biting the inside of her cheek. With her arms leaning behind her on the floor for support, she started to add more pressure and move her sole up and down your crotch, giving you a footjob through your pants.

Getting impatient, Lisa, who at this point was clearly trying to tighten her legs together to get some kind of friction, quickly decided that wasn't enough and instead reached for the buttons on her shorts and started to take them off, but not in typical fashion. Lalisa stood up and turned around, her body line turning into an incredible figure that you wished you could burn into your memory. At the centre of this artistic sculpture was her luscious ass, which was only highlighted more as she bent over and looked back at you with those unmistakable fuck-me eyes. She then peeled her tight shorts down, using her hands to guide them along. She glided her hands across her legs at the same time, like she was a present you’ve always wanted unwrapping itself in front of you. Once her shorts had hit the tiles, you imagined what it would be like taking her in this position, and all the kinds of things you wanted to do to her ass.

Her little routine wasn’t over though. On the way up, in one fluid motion her hand trailed up along the inside of her thigh, leading to her panties that she rubbed from her ass all the way to her clit. She shivered at the first real physical stimulation felt since this little session started. The simple act of stripping off her own shorts was striking. She certainly lived up to her main dancer mantle.

Your cock twitched achingly at Lisa’s strip tease. In response, Rosé found the head of your manhood through the fabric and, to the best of her ability, curled her toes around it. “Whilst this is fun, there’s only so much of your cock that I can feel through your clothes, and I want it in me, not in your pants.”

“You mean in us.” said Lisa as she kneeled down next to Rosé.

“Sorry babe, you’re right” and one of your untold fantasies unfolded before your eyes, as Rosé leaned in to Lisa’s lips and pressed them across her own. Lisa met Rosé's tongue with no resistance, letting it slip into her mouth and explore within her. The realisation that this seemed so natural to them showed that it was clearly nothing new, all the while Rosé continued massaging you.

You gently caressed her foot, before begrudgingly removing it from your crotch. The strain of your cock through your pants was starting to hurt a little from how turned on you were. You stood up and closed the short distance to where they were still locked on to each other, mouth on mouth. You wondered how familiar they were with getting each other’s lips wet. Lisa was caressing her hands through Rosé's hair, who in return had her hands fondling Lisa’s cute tits. Apparently, the answer to your previous thought was, very much so.

When Rosé pinched her best friend’s nipple, Lisa let out a moan in her throat that reverberated into Rosé's mouth, letting her know that her actions were appreciated.

Rosé briefly opened her eyes, and saw your hard tent was now at eye level next to them. She pulled her tongue out of Lisa’s mouth and gave her a quick peck on the lips before turning to unzip your pants.

Lisa wrapped her arms around Rosé's waist and leant her head on her shoulders, watching as Rosé finally pulled your cock free. “Mmm, did all of our foreplay and teasing get you this hard? Just for us?” She said with a foxy little smile, knowing full well that you were hard as a rock the moment the topic of fantasies came up.

And with that she grabbed the base of your cock and started pumping up and down. The first jerk alone was enough to cause pre cum to leak out onto your head, which Rosé- observant as ever, quickly noticed and used it to start lubing up your rod. “Mmm c’mon Lisa, don’t pretend you’re shy.”

Lisa was seemingly preoccupied, as she had adjusted her head on Rosé's shoulder so that she was now sucking her neck, and the hands which were around her waist now pulled her towards her own body. Lisa was seemingly grinding her pussy against Rosé's hipbone. It wasn't a move that you had ever seen before, but it was hot nonetheless.

Rosé, who was unfazed by this, gathered her hand that was intertwined with Lisa’s and slid them both together over your cock, forming a hand cradle. What followed was a double handed jerk off, as the two girls of your dreams slid their hands together over the full length of your cock, from base to head, down and back up, their hands still laced over each other as well as over your cock. You revelled in the experience, thinking about how much more there was to come. You quickly stripped off your shirt, and looked down to the pleasing rendition before you.

Both sets of eyes were now looking up at you with hungry expressions. Rosé unclasped her hand and moved her mouth towards your balls, sucking them into the warmth of her mouth. Lisa continued pumping your cock, moving her hand down towards the lower half. You anticipated why she might do this, until your cock head was resting on the wetness of her laid out tongue.

“You know, Rosé's spit is still probably in my mouth.” She said, then quickly took in half the length of your cock inside her mouth. The thought of Blackpink’s shared fluids in each other and on your cock had you throbbing in Lisa’s mouth. Just to make sure, Rosé took a pause from sucking on your balls. After Lisa had bobbed up and down your shaft a couple times, Rosé interrupted her by placing a hand around her neck, gently choking the girl and causing her to stop the brief yet blissful blowjob. Confused as to why Rosé had pulled her best friend off of your cock, your confusion was quickly replaced with a look of awe as she pulled Lisa’s mouth open. The younger girl instinctively laid her tongue out and looked up at Rosé with puppy dog eyes. And then Rosé spat. in. her. mouth. Lisa grinned in return then returned to take the length of your cock down her throat, gagging ever so slightly when she reached the base. When her pretty pink lips pulled away from your cock, you were connected by a trail of spit and pre cum.

“There, now our spit is definitely mixed together all over your cock.”

Lisa wasn’t swimming, yet a new wave of liquid had started to leak under her from Rosé's ministrations. She moved her black panties to the side and started rubbing her clit, whilst returning to give you head.

You felt her slide her tongue along your frenulum and shaft whilst encasing you between her lips. Rosé massaged your balls with one hand and used her other to wrap it around the base of your shaft. Their teamwork and rhythm was undeniable. Whether it was through years of training and performing together, or experience in getting their partners off- each other or different people (or both), the pleasure you were feeling far succeeded your expectations. Lisa would skilfully envelop your shaft with her mouth, bobbing up and down. When she slurped down further, Rosé gave the base of your shaft two quick jerks. On Lisa’s every upwards motion, Rosé used the extra length available on your cock to give you a slower pump in a twisting motion, whilst Lisa sucked hard on your head. They continued doing this again and again, all the while Rosé continued to massage your balls with her free hand, and their eye contact fucked you on a whole other level.

Lisa moaned onto your cock, and gazing past her slutty little face, you saw she was still getting herself off. Two small pools of liquid had formed on the floor, one beneath Lisa’s pussy; her leaked juices made you wonder what she tasted like. The other was the puddle of spit below your cock and their mouths, which had transpired from the increasingly sloppy blowjob.

You felt a familiar rising wave. Wanting to prolong this dream-like situation, you stepped back to pull away, at which Lisa looked at you with pouty lips and an expression of neediness, whilst Rosé spoke up.

“You were about to cum weren’t you, I could feel it in your balls.” she said with a devious smile. “Lisa’s mouth does feel good doesn’t it.” After which she turned and licked up along Lisa’s cheek playfully, and turned back to look at you with her mouth open in a smile and her tongue lifted up to to the top of her teeth.

“That felt like heaven and then some.” You explained. “But I don’t want to cum just yet.”

“It’s all good, I’ve got an idea” Rosé grabbed Lisa’s hand again and stood up, motioning for Lisa to follow suit.

Noticing the girly mess she had made on the floor, Lisa started an apology to her best friend. “My bad Chae, I leaked on your floor a little.” Considering she hadn’t cum yet, ‘a little’ seemed like an understatement. This girl was dripping.

Rosé replied with even more fantasy fuel. “Don’t worry Lili, you get cum on my bed sheets all the time, these floors are easy to clean in comparison.” And with that you all moved into Rosé's bedroom, hopefully on your way to ruin her bed sheets anyway.

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Chapter 2 - 𝓕𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓪𝓼𝓲𝓮𝓼 fulfilled

Apart from a hoodie that was lying on the floor, Rosé's bedroom was about as photogenic as her. An observation of clean and cute was as far as your quick scan of the area allowed before the girls drew your attention again.

Amazingly, Rosé was still fully clothed. Lisa- desperate to continue, quickly undid Rosé's shorts and dropped them to the floor, but not without giving Rosé's ass cheek a playful bite. “Lisa-yah!” yelped Rosé, with her eyes wide open and mouth agape in a similarly playful expression.

“Can’t help myself Rosie, I’m just extra horny today, don’t know why.”

“Lili I think we know why.” She said, giving you a coy look. “Why’re you just standing in the doorway Y/N?” “It’s okay, you can come into my room, it’s not the only thing of mine you’re gonna be coming in anyway.” Your cock twitched at her comment, causing Rosé to smirk as she knew the effect her words had on you.

“I want to see all of you Rosé.” You looked at her shirt and panties, then at Lisa, indicating with your eyes. Lisa understood and stood behind her best friend. Returning the favour from earlier, she cupped her perky little tits through her white top and started to pinch her nipples.

“Mmm, naughty Rosie isn’t wearing a bra.” said Lisa as she placed her head over Rosé's shoulder and looked into her eyes.

Rosé returned eye contact and replied “Well yeah I’m just at home, you walk around here with far less clothes than an absent bra sometimes.” She then proceeded to reach behind her, and although Rosé's body was currently blocking you from seeing it, you could take a good guess as to what she had dipped her fingers into given the surprisingly loud wet sound that emanated.

In what is half soft purring and half actual words, Lisa responds “Me walking around your house naked? You shouldn’t say such slanderous things Rosie.” You find it both humorous and an extreme turn on that Lisa is saying this whilst her fellow group members’ fingers are buried deep in her dripping pussy.

Even though you were meant to be cooling off, you can’t help but stroke your cock to the image before you. Ever so slowly, you pumped your shaft as Lisa lifted Rosé's shirt over her head, forcing the girl to pull her fingers out so that she could hold her arms up. As she did this, you managed to catch 2 of her fingers glistening in the air against the sunlight that shimmered through the curtains. Seeing Lisa’s wetness sparkle on Rosé's fingers was not a fantasy you thought you had, but it is a memorable moment for sure. With her top now removed, you drink in the sight of Rosé's tits. They aren’t huge, but they’re shapely and match her frame well. Subconsciously, you increased the pace of your stroking in appreciation, which doesn't go unnoticed by Rosé who bites on her lip as she watches you jerk off to her. “Better than getting off to pictures of us over the internet?” She toys.

Before you can think of a good reply, Lisa spins her around so that Rosé's ass is facing you. She gives you a quick glance, then starts to peel her chingu's panties off using just her teeth. Apparently Lisa took stripping classes at YG because she sure knew how to put on a show.

Rosé bent her knees slightly and leaned forward on the bed, knowing the angles that made her ass look good. Before you is a cute bubble butt, definitely not as big as Lisa’s, but round and firm. You wonder how it’s possible for them to look so damn good, but then remember that as idols, half of their work is training, dancing, and performing, and to look visual as fuck whilst doing it. What most of the public doesn’t necessarily realise though, is how mouth drooling they look even under their clothes. With no safety shorts to impede your view, Rosé looked gorgeous. Being nude, this is the most leggy you’ve ever seen her, and in her bent over position, her pussy shined back at you. Even from this small distance, you could see that she had a very neat innie that made you want to dive in. Turning back around to face you made her clean shaven mound apparent.

You walked forward from your spot at the doorframe. Lisa was still wearing her bralette and super crop top, and her panties were so soaked that a wet line started to drip down her thigh. Eyeing what remained of her outfit, you came to a decision: “That crop top stays on, everything else needs to go.”

“If that’s what you want, daddy.” She said in a sultry yet innocent tone that practically makes you melt.

Rosé kneeled down behind Lisa, and took off her panties. There’s no show this time, but no complaints are to be heard either, as Rosé immediately dived into her best friends pussy, enabling moans to echo through the room.

You waste no time and unhook Lisa’s bralette. With just her super crop on to shape her shoulders, it laid just over her chest without covering her tits, which jiggled pleasantly as she had taken over stroking your cock, the rest of her now butt-naked. It was like an X rated dance practice outfit. You transfer Lisa’s moans into your own mouth as you moved in for a kiss. She welcomed your tongue into herself, and once again with unbeatable rhythm, she matched the pace of her handjob with the rate at which she sucked and licked at your tongue. You could only imagine that Rosé was somehow tongue-fucking her pussy to a similar beat.

“Alright, time for that idea I had” perks up Rosé. She directed Lisa to get on the bed- face down, ass up, whilst you stood at the edge, leaving enough room for Rosé to take her place in front of you. It looked to be a king size bed, which you have a not so slight suspicion is due to the fact that Lisa spends a lot of time in here as well. Rosé kneeled on her knees, facing Lisa, and continued her oral session. Feeling a little confused as to why she wanted you here, you begin to realise what Rosé's idea was. She lifted up the lower half of her legs into the air and fluttered her toes at you, behind which rested both her thighs held tightly together, and above that thigh gap was of course the beautiful folds of her pussy.

Rosé's a queen, yet she knows how to serve. Before you was an elegant three course meal of your very own Rosé banquet.

“There’s lube in that bedside drawer, bottom shelf.” said Rosé as she lifted up her head from Lisa’s cunt, gesturing towards the mahogany drawer with pussy juice dripping deliciously around her mouth. “Or you can borrow some of Lisa.” She said with a wink and a lick of her lips before burying her face back down into her meal, allowing Lisa’s increasingly louder moans to continue.

As hot as Rosé's latter suggestion sounded, you didn't want to interrupt, as Lisa has been chasing that orgasm since the start of the night. You moved over to where the bedside table was and opened the bottom drawer. The contents were a bit more intense than you were expecting. You spotted a few dildos and vibrators, the two most noticeable of which were a rabbit vibrator (the ones that have an extra nub shaped like rabbit ears to stimulate the clit), and a long double ended dildo that was half black, half pink. Apparently even in their sex lives they remained on brand.

Other items included a roll of condoms and the bottle of lube you were initially looking for- but quickly became of less interest, as you saw a pair of handcuffs, and at the bottom, a small set of Polaroid pictures. They had the typical dreamy summer vibes that Polaroids produced, but upon looking at the images more closely you noticed they were of not just Rosé, or even just Chalisa, but all the Blackpink members. In most of the pics the subjects were framed as either nude or close to it, in a satisfyingly tasteful way, despite the fact that you could tell they were taken either pre, mid, or post sex. You suddenly felt a bit of guilt, as if you were intruding on these intimate moments that were only meant for them. But when Lisa’s squeals tuned you back in, you glanced over at Rosé who had paused to give you her trademark bedroom eyes and wiggled her butt and feet in the air despite the items you were holding. She didn’t mind you seeing her intimate drawer but she did mind that you weren’t fucking her right now.

“Do I need this?” you asked her dutifully, whilst holding up one of the condom packets.

“Nah, remember what I said earlier? I want you to finish in me, not in some latex. Don’t worry, we’re both on the pill.”

Lisa, despite her sounds of exasperation, managed to chime in “Chae loves cum too much to not be on the pill.”

Rosé didn’t even respond, and instead just returned her tongue and fingers to Lisa’s folds.

“If you think there’s a lot going on in that drawer, just wait until you see what Jennie and Jisoo have.” Lisa’s statement left a lasting impression.

Returning back to the bed, you planted yourself on the ground behind Rosé. If she’s offering everything in front of you, you weren't gonna turn her down. Already knowing in which order you’ll fuck Rosé's bits, you pour some of the lube over your cock and then some over the soles and along the insides of her feet, which she already had hovered in the air for you, squeezed together. You quickly grabbed a pillow and placed them under her knees to hopefully help alleviate some of the roughness of the floor.

With your cock lined up, you started thrusting between her soles. To add more stimulation you pushed them together, tightening the hole that formed between them. She started to move her legs slightly back and forth to match your thrusts. Like the rest of her body, her feet were pretty and clean, and it’s a unique visual to see your cock pumping between them. Further up on the bed, the rapid squelching sounds coming from between Rosé's face and Lisa’s legs announced her approaching orgasm.

“Fuck yes Rosie, fuck fuck fuck.” Screamed Lisa as her cunt trembled around Rosé's fingers and mouth. The older girl continued her movements, only slowly subsiding once Lisa stopped shaking. Lisa allowed the last waves of her orgasm to ride through her. “You eat me out so good Chae.” She said before flipping onto her back, head towards Rosé and lying still in an effort to catch her breath.

Throughout all this you continued to fuck Rosé’s feet. After a couple dozen thrusts, you realised that you were both too worked up to keep the foot job going, and that this was generally better served as foreplay or when everyone wasn't ridiculously horny.

Your thought process was reinforced when you placed her legs back down and noticed her pussy leaking some cream. Not a clear, dripping wetness like Lisa, but a small trail of creamy white. Rosé got up and pushed you down to a seated position on the edge of her bed. Straddling you, she says "I'm sorry, I know you want to fuck my legs, but my pussy is literally creaming for your cock right now so it'll have to wait for another day."

The fact that Rosé basically invited you to come fuck her again after today was more than enough reason for you to accept her apology. “Lili, guide his cock for me.”

Lisa, who had seemingly recovered enough from her orgasm, got up off the bed with her tongue between her teeth and a devilish smile. You wondered what she was thinking about. Taking her spot behind Rosé, you felt a warm hand wrap itself around the base of your cock, as it aimed your head towards her best friends opening. You were aching to be inside Rosé’s flower, and she was aching to have your stem inside of her.

Once she felt your tip teasing her entrance, Rosé allowed her weight to fall down until her pussy lips met Lisa’s hand. The top half of your cock was buried inside Blackpink’s main vocalist, whilst the main dancer had her fingers curled around the bottom half. The moment is so cathartic that you had to strain yourself from not nutting then and there. Rosé continued to push downwards against Lisa’s hand, signalling that she wanted more. Instead of letting go completely, Lisa unfurled her fingers one at a time to allow for Rosé's pussy to swallow more of your cock, until she’s only holding the very base with the O shape of her curled thumb and index finger. Rosé bottoms out, meaning Lisa’s hand is now laying flat against your pubic area, with your cock jutting out between her fingers. She flips her hand over so that her palm is facing upwards. Rosé had now taken your full length, her creamy walls feeling like bliss. You attest being able to push through her unbelievable tightness on the first thrust to her determination, and that she was visibly creamy from all the action that had happened tonight before any attention was given to her pussy.

Rosé started to lift upwards, and then down again, finding a rhythm, but her pussy was not alone in this endeavour. Every time Rosé flexed and relaxed her hips and legs to sink down on your cock and then up again, Lisa matched this by keeping her hand in the same position as before. Palm up, her middle and ring fingers encasing either side of your cock. By matching the pace of the ride, she always kept her hand just under Rosé’s pussy. In doing this, she was not only giving you a two finger handjob, but she was also curling her fingers up to rub her best friends lips and clit, all the whilst Rosé continued to ride the soul out of you.

The sounds of squelching and yours and Rosé’s moaning filled the room. The subtle bouncing of her tits every time she dropped from the summit was adorable. Seeing you eye fuck her tits, Rosé flicked her hair so that you could get better access. You moved in and took her left nipple in your mouth, whilst cupping her other boob. The hardness of her nipples became even more evident as your swirled your tongue around one and pinched the other. As her pussy continuously clamped you, up and down, You felt Rosé’s hands on the back of your head, pulling you closer. Her fingers ran through your hair and massaged your scalp as you alternated between sucking on her tits. Rosé fully took the length of your cock inside of her and switched to a back and forth grinding motion.

With her mouth free and Rosé’s ass in front of her, Lisa determined there was an obvious move to make.

“Lisa-yah!” Rosé suddenly yelped. “ I thought this was meant to be your fantasy.

Lisa pauses her ministrations to reply. "Turns out I wanted to be on the giving end as well." Curious as to what was happening, you unlatched from Rosé’s tits and looked behind her slim waist. Lisa had halted her finger work from the two of you and was instead spreading her best friends ass, tongue deep inside Rosé’s tight little asshole.

Continuing with her grinding, you yourself almost yelp as Rosé clenched her pussy walls tighter on your cock, her velvety insides hugging you closer.

“Rosé…” You groan, feeling yourself getting closer. Leaning over, she whispers into your ear. "Don’t be a stranger, you can call me by my real name.”

This was a small added intimacy that you were more than happy to abide by. "Do you like having my cock inside you... Park Chaeyoung?" You say in a deep playful tone, but it's followed quickly by a moan as she squeezes her cunt around your cock even harder upon hearing you call her by her real name.

Lisa interjects - "You just squeezed his cock didn't you Chae? Holy fuck you must be tight right now, some of your cream leaked out when you did.” From behind Chaeyoung's ass you can see Lisa eye fucking the creamy pussy in front of her, before looking up at you and saying "I love when she squeezes herself around my fingers or tongue, makes me feel like a good girl.”

“Or a bad girl, depending on how you look at it" you say, in which Lisa responds with a coy smile and sticks her tongue out playfully, which to your delight she sticks back in to her chingu's awaiting ass. "Lisa, I love you, but good girls don't tongue fuck each others assholes" she says whilst trying to hold in a moan. Lisa pulls out "well I can stop if you'd like" she says, tilting her head down and pouting her lips in a teasing way that she knew would drive Chaeyoung crazy, but without even turning around, Chaeyoung rests her hand on Lisa's head and pulls her back into her ass, "don't you dare stop, I'm close". Seeing as she looked you dead in the eyes during those words you took it she wasn't just talking to Lisa. This time you take the reigns and start bucking your hips up into her. Chaeyoung lets out the moan she was holding a moment ago, the loudest of the night so far.

Pumping with all the energy you have in you, you buck your hips up into the girl, relentlessly pounding her pussy with your rod. You keep a rigid hold of her waist, minimising her movements to allow Lisa to continue her tongue work.

“Unghf, yes, yes, keep fucking me Y/N, I’m so close, treat me like your little cum hungry slut. My pussy needs your cum. My pussy needs your cum like my asshole needs my best friends tongue. FUCK” she squeals, as you deliver the words “milk the cum out of my cock with your pussy, Chaeyoung” and with the most satisfying O face you’ve ever seen, her eyes rolls back and her pussy cinches around your cock tighter than it has all night. Her creamy walls start to ripple around your manhood, and when her facial expression alone was enough to send you over the edge, you thrust balls deep one more time and then plummet over. Her cunt milks you for load after load, as white as the flashing of your vision. The culminating overload of realising that you really are in Rosé‘s apartment, fucking her and Lisa, and the waves of your climax has you in pure, absolute bliss.

With your cock still inside her, Chaeyoung wraps her arms around your neck, nuzzling her head into your shoulder. She’s clearly gone into a state of lazy post-sex dreamy mode, and you don’t blame her. Holding on to you tight like she doesn’t want to ever let go, you wrap one arm around her smooth waist, and explore the ridges of her spine and ribs with the other hand.

“Don’t let that cream go to waste Lili” mumbles Chaeyoung from your neck. “Remember what I said about wanting to share cum?”

“Leave it to me Rosie” and with that Lisa gently lifted Chaeyoung’s ass until your cock slipped out of her pussy, the both of you wincing slightly from the post-nut sensitivity.

The gentlest little moans emanated from Chaeyoung as Lisa started lapping up the dripping creampie, no, YOUR dripping creampie from her best friend's pussy. You didn’t have the view to see it, but the sight of Lisa’s eyes peaking over Chaeyoung’s ass as she licked up the combined cream of your cum and her fellow group member was more than enough. “I know you’re both puckered out right now, but after tasting all this cum I’m getting sopping wet again and I’m gonna have to go for round two.” Some of her words were a little unclear, as she spoke without trying to let any cum fall out. You smiled at Lisa’s request as she dived back in. Once her mouth was full of the contents of Chaeyoung’s pussy, she gathered the cum from your sensitive cock using three fingers and licked that up too. She then sat back on her knees and waited like a good girl.

Chaeyoung pushed up off of you and swayed over to Lisa. You watched as the two sloppily made out, transferring creamy white substances into each other’s mouths. Lisa stuck her tongue out, looking first at her best friend and then making direct eye contact with you. Chaeyoung’s creamy cum, your hot load, and the girls’ spit coating her mouth and smooth pink tongue, forming multiple trails between her top and bottom lips as she opened her mouth wide.

Chaeyoung wrapped her luscious lips around Lisa's tongue, bobbing up and down like a pseudo-blowjob. Once Lisa’s jaw got tired, she pushed down on Chaeyoung’s shoulders to get her on a lower elevation. Lisa then loomed over Chaeyoung’s mouth from a distance and let what remained of her creamy reservoir out of her mouth. Like a thick bubbling waterfall, the cum travelled through the air down into Lake Chaeyoung’s awaiting mouth.

Before today, the most you had seen of Chaeyoung and Lisa was the occasional outfit that showed off a little extra, or them twerking on stage, yet here you were watching them savour and play with your cum in each other’s holes.

It was filthy, it was slutty, and it was pure fucking fantasy fuel.

“Tur around, get on the beb with your asshup” Chaeyoung could only half enunciate the words in trying to contain all the cum in her mouth, though she wasn’t fully succeeding as some was dribbling out the corner of her mouth and down onto her perky little tits. Regardless, Lisa got the memo, as for the second time that night, she quickly planted herself face down, ass up on the bed. In this position, her ass had never looked better, and you could already feel yourself returning to hardness. You wondered just how much time Lisa spent in this position.

Just when you thought the cum tales might be over, Chaeyoung scooched over in prime position to eat her best friend’s ass. Instead of swallowing the cum, she spat some of it out and proceeded to make out with Lisa’s asshole. Cum. And. Spit. Dripped. Everywhere. Lisa was moaning into the bed sheets, and as if there wasn’t enough, her pussy started leaking out again. Chaeyoung was alternating between finger fucking and tongue fucking all the natural lube into her Lisa's asshole. Once she seemed satisfied, she wiggled under Lisa into a sixty-nine position, and sucked her pussy folds into her mouth.��

After watching the two eat each other out for a bit, Lisa turned her head around and faced you. “C’mon Y/N, you can’t tell me that after all that you’re not hard again, Chae didn’t lube up my ass with cum-lube for nothing.” She said whilst shaking her ass in the air. Suffice to say you were at full mast again, so you took your place behind Lisa’s ass. She giggled as you tapped your cock on her cheeks, admiring the shape and firmness of it.

“Oh my god Lalisa Manoban keep rubbing that, fuck yes.” You couldn’t see Chaeyoung’s pussy from here but it made you smile knowing these two knew how to get each other off so good.

Holding your cock by the base, you pushed just the head into Lisa’s asshole. “Ugh, yeah keep going deeper, I can take it all.” You didn’t doubt her, especially with how slick and wet it was, but you wanted to see if you could make her beg for it. Once your whole tip was inside her ass, you pulled out, rubbed it along the length of her pussy that Chaeyoung wasn’t occupying with her mouth, then pushed just the head back in. After repeating this a few times Lisa quipped “Y/N please I need you to pound my ass, stop teasing me.” She tried to twerk it back into you but her best friend had her arms locked around her waist, preventing Lisa from getting much movement.

Chaeyoung’s sparkling eyes from below caught your attention. You couldn’t see her mouth but could tell she was smiling. Teasing Lisa when her pussy juices were literally leaking down her leg got Chaeyoung off just as much as it did for you.

You put the tip back into her asshole. “Tell me how bad you want it Lisa.”

“I’m fucking aching for your cock Y/N. You know my ass will make you feel good, lay your pipe in me however you want, just put it in please. Please.” That last word came out like a gentle little cry. And so without remorse you thrusted the full length of your cock into Lalisa’s tight asshole. Lisa screamed in delight as you pumped away, rearranging her guts. Her ass cheeks clapped rhythmically every time your hips rammed into her from behind. You were reminded that Lisa got her wish from earlier, as loud slurping sounds came from where Chaeyoung’s mouth connected to Lisa’s pussy, which was dripping like a faulty faucet.

You took a healthy handful of Lisa’s ass cheek and squeezed, taking a moment to appreciate that you were indeed fucking the Lisa Manoban’s ass. You gave her a good couple spanks just for good measure. This was clearly up Lisa’s alley, as she said “mmm fuck yes Y/N, rough fuck me from behind like the slut I am.” With your cock filling her up, all of the cum lube from before had started to drip out of her ass and run down her cheeks, until it made its way through her pussy folds. Chaeyoung was there at the end of the stream, ready to lap it all up.

“She likes having her hair pulled whilst your inside of her.”

“Chaengie, stop exposing me!” quipped Lisa, as if she wasn’t already fully exposed, her pussy eaten and her ass spread open.

You leaned forward and bunched up Lisa’s hair in your hand. Pulling her head back as you pounded her back end, making sure to deliver more spanks as she shivered in pleasure.

It didn’t take long before Lisa moaned between gasps of air “I’m gonna… cum… already. Don’t stop fucking that hole Y/N… keep sucking my clit… right there Cha- OH”

Lisa came like an unhinged sprinkler, her body rippling and coiling in all the right places, and Chaeyoung had to close her eyes as Lisa started to gush and squirt all over her pretty little face.

You kept fucking Lisa throughout her orgasm, but she eventually pulled forwards slightly from over stimulation. You pulled your cock out of her ass, promising to yourself in your head that you’d return to that tight cavern one day.

Noticing your hard on floating in the air, Chaeyoung wiped her hand across her face like she had just been submerged in a pool, except instead of water it was Lisa’s squirty cum. With her hand now slick with girl juice, she reached up and started to pump your cock. Evidently, these two were fans of using cum as lube. But like fuck, you were too after tonight.

“Chaeyoung, shift down towards the edge more.” As she complied, you gently pulled Lisa along so that her pussy lined up with Chaeyoung’s mouth. Her head was now hanging off of the bed slightly, exactly where you wanted it. You placed your thumb on Chaeyoung’s lips and swiped it across them. They returned to their position with a slight bounce. Without even needing to say the words, she opened her mouth wide, her tongue looked as inviting as ever. Using Lisa’s ass as a handhold, you bent your knees until Chaeyoung’s mouth was on fucking level, and in one thrust you glided along her tongue until you hit her throat. As expected, Chaeyoung’s throat shared similar properties with her pussy: incredibly tight and the perfect sleeve for your cock. You revelled in the feeling of her warm tongue and throat massaging your rod. Each thrust was a delight. Damn these two idols knew how to take dick.

Even though you had already cum once, you knew you wouldn’t last long throatfucking Chaeyoung like this, so after a few more savouring thrusts you pulled out. “Hey, where are you going..?” Chaeyoung asked, as if her food was being taken away mid meal.

You answered her question with an action, slowly pushing the full length of your member into Lisa’s glorious pussy, which was accompanied by a gentle moan. You continued alternating between Chaeyoung’s upside down mouth and Lisa’s cunt, one slow thrust at a time. It was hard to tell which was more slippery.

“Making it last and still fucking us both at the same time? Don’t worry Y/N, this isn’t the last time we’re doing this, I can tell you that right now.” Lisa’s words reassured you, as did her pussy wrapped around your cock.

“Where do you want my 2nd load?”

“Your call Lisa, he already came insid-“ The end of her sentence was cut short, as you had just pulled out of Lisa and stuffed Chaeyoung’s mouth full again.

“My mouth is a bit dry Y/N, why don’t you quench my thirst?”

“You’ll have to turn around then Lisa, get your sexy little mouth over here, I’ve been close for a while now.”

She quickly hopped off from on top of Chaeyoung and swivelled around to face you (but she returned to lying on top of Chaeyoung anyway). You tapped on Lisa’s open tongue with your cock, and then watched it disappear as you thrust your hips forward.

“I like watching my best friend swallow your cock Y/N. She wants your cum. Are you gonna give it to her? Please cum down her throat, she's a dirty fucking cum whore babe, let it all out babe, nut in her, please.”

Chaeyoung’s accent as she pleaded for you to cum down Lisa’s throat sent you spiralling. She was a main vocalist in more than just singing. You thrust deep into Lisa's mouth one last time before groaning loudly. Hot spurts of cum coated Lisa’s mouth pipe, who greedily swallowed it all down. She wasn’t lying when she said she was thirsty.

You pulled out of Lisa’s mouth after your cock stopped twitching, now feeling well and truly spent.

"You really swallowed it all huh?" Chaeyoung noted.

"It's only fair, you got his creampie earlier."

You collapsed onto the bed next to Chaeyoung, whilst they casually discussed your cum and the places it went.

Lisa looked over to face you with a sly grin. "You should come over again sometime, maybe we'll give you that audio recording."

“Come over again? Does that mean you’re kicking me out now?”

Lisa shook her head apologetically. That’s not what she meant.

Chaeyoung's hand stretched out behind her to find its place interlocked with yours, as if to make sure you weren’t going anywhere. "No, stay with us… tonight. But after that you should come over again, but only for the recording, no other reason." She teased in a sleepy voice.

"Really, no other reason?" You responded.

"Hmm, none that I can think off." She gently squeezed your hand, reassuring you of all the reasons that went unspoken.

A/N: How do people churn out smuts this long whilst still retaining some level of quality? I feel like I just submitted an assignment. Grade my paper and leave me feedback! Also, writing Rosé's name with the tilde above the e every time isn't worth it.

#blackpink smut #lisa smut #rose smut #kpop smut #girl group smut #gg smut #female idol smut #kpop fanfic #kpop headcanons #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios

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cozycottagetarot · 9 months

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Quick Pick: Messages From Your Person

Hello, my loves! It's been way too long, but I'm finally back (hopefully for a long time) with a new reading as well as a bit of a rebrand. Today's reading is focused on messages from your person (kind of in the realm of a future spouse but generally a long-term partner) but I think for some of you it may come across as a current partner as well.

This is a pretty experimental reading for me. I want to start including an 'energy check' of sorts to help you better figure out if a pile is for you or not. I've done 'channelled' messages before but I felt weird about them so I've decided to give it a try again. The message aspect of this reading is just a free-flow writing of the cards that were pulled. And of course, I decided to play around a little bit more with my graphics. I'm always open to feedback, so I'd love to gather your thoughts on the set-up and reading itself.

Elle 🌿

P.S. I'm trying to re-do my masterlist but can't locate all my old pacs easily. If you come across one, I wouldn't mind if you send me the link. 🙏

Support My Work | MASTERLIST

Disclaimer: When reading tarot, my aim is to focus on self-reflection and seeking guidance. The readings you'll find here are designed to add a pinch of fun and entertainment to your day. While I might sprinkle in some advice that hopefully vibes with you, please remember that these insights aren't a substitute for any professional advice you might need-- after all, you know your journey best! For any love-related or future-focused readings, consider them captivating musings exploring possibilities. Divination inspired stories even. I can't predict the future but I do hope to add some enjoyment and insights into your everyday. Lastly my darlings, please take from these readings what resonates with you most, be it some, all or none, and leave the rest. 🌟

PILE 1

Note: Pile 1 your pile gave me absolute hell the first time around 😭. I was writing/channelling the message and the energy literally just gave way at one point, I was flabbergasted 🫨. Anyway, the second pull was much clearer, but I included notes I felt were important from the first pull in the post-reading notes section.

Your Energy:

Going through an awakening. A need or call for self-reflection. A new cycle is beginning. You must face what you are running from within, but you must also be patient. Rely on your inner strength. Needing to learn more about yourself before doing/trying something different. Potentially finding yourself in part of a mentorship. Connecting with people similar to yourself. Navigating regrets. Needing to let go of the old you. Needing to ground yourself. A strong energy of needing to look within yourself. It is time to prepare yourself for your next journey.

The Message:

Can you let the past go? We’ve been through so much, the both of us, on our own and together. Why do you hold on to it when our future is waiting for us? I know I hurt you and I apologize. You didn’t deserve any of the pain I caused you. I don’t blame you [it felt like there was a specific reason but I couldn’t get the specifics] but I feel lost without you. I could tell you why, I want to, but words mean nothing without action. You know my story. My relationship with my mother, how that shaped me. You know I love the attention of it all, having everyone’s eyes on me. Makes me feel good.. makes me feel. But no one else’s attention mattered like yours did. I felt most close to myself with you. Please, please let go of that version of me you’re holding onto in your head. I’m taking space because I need to heal. I need to heal my relationship with me first before I can heal it with us. This isn’t goodbye; just so long for now. I’m taking time to put that me in the past too and find myself and what I want from this life. I mean it’s simple really, I want you, us. I want to give you the good life you deserve, but I need to fix myself first. Give me the self-love I deserve.

Post-Reading Notes:

There’s a mature, sad regretful energy. Someone on a journey of self-exploration. Two hurting souls who met at the wrong time. One of you may be further along in your healing journey or you’ve both healed parts of yourself and your relationship that the other one hasn’t healed yet.

First Pull Notes:

One of the first things that came to mind for me is a dark night of the soul… I haven’t heard that term in so long and I’ve completely forgotten what it means, but for someone in this pile, I feel like that may resonate a lot. Going through a tough time. Blow after blow. Your higher self or inner wisdom is trying to reach you. Introspection before a new beginning. An ending of something you don’t want to let go of?

Big things are happening in your life, and significant changes are taking place even though it might not seem that way right now. Lots of air energy. Gaining mental clarity is super important for you right now. Breakup vibes? You two are like opposite sides or motivations of the same energy. Holding on when you know you should let go. This is definitely your person (one of the cards literally says ‘You’re my person’).

PILE 2

Your Energy:

For some of you are at the end of suffering but lying to yourself about the truth of the outcome, while for others you’re running from the mistakes made along the way. Maybe it's both. You’re still grieving all that is lost, be gentle with yourself. Hard work and consistency may await you but keep at it. Adventure is closer than you think. You’re on the brink of success. Moving forward hurts, but you must. Your person (or something you've been romanticising) is waiting for you. You just have to be brave enough to step through the gate. Opportunities are coming your way. If you're interested in floral hobbies or embroidery go for it.

The Message:

I hear you. I haven’t given up on you. I hear the songs you play for me, I hear the songs of your heart. You’re my love, my soulmate. We were meant to be, you and me. You’re not crazy or insane, or any other term you demean yourself with. You’re my everything. I can feel your soul even though we’re apart. If I close my eyes hard enough, I can feel you there. I can see your sparkling soul mirroring mine... sad eyes, bright smile, you leave me in awe. I know you call to me, and I’m sorry I’m not there. Don’t hate me for it, please. I’m leaving behind all that has been holding me back… the same as you. I’m sorry it’s so lonely. I want to meet. What do you say? Impromptu trip to the tropics? Somewhere cold? I just want to escape the world with you and lie in your arms. You’re my home. I sit in your energy and let it guide me your way. But I do need time. Please be patient with me. I haven’t abandoned you. I’m finding me, for you. I dream about you so often and being the kind of person you’d inspire me to be.

Post-Reading Notes:

"I need you to run to me, run to me, lover." (Run by Hozier, the chorus specifically. I know the song is supposed to be a metaphor but I'm suggesting it at face value). A very healing energy to your person's messages. Your person could also fantasise about you a lot... in a non-x-rated 18+ kind of way. It was mentioned on one of the cards but that part of the card felt awkward in the rest of the cards. They’re possessive, it doesn't seem like in a negative or extreme way but again, that's not something that was strong or clear. There’s something to do with the attention of others. They just want to be yours completely… Honestly, a submissive yet dominant kind of energy. A protector and/or provider (take that as you will) who is absolutely smitten with you and will do anything you say.

I don't typically read for it, but one of the cards had twin flame written on it. It could also be symbolic of mirroring each other in your personal journeys in life.

PILE 3

Your Energy:

Powerful yet solitary energy. A new chapter of your life. Accomplishing a big goal. Moving to a new location. Creating a good foundation for yourself in preparation for what comes next. Balancing your energies. Sleep issues. Struggling with anxiety or managing thoughts after a traumatic event. Celebration. Having security. Authoritarian role or vibes.

The Message:

Okay, I can do this: I can’t get you off of my mind. I’m constantly thinking of you, viewing your content, trying to set myself up to run into you. I know it’s silly, especially since you hurt me. Who pines after the person that hurt them? Well, it wasn't meant to be mean. You’re just so mysterious I can’t ever read you and it or you make me nervous. I’m always worrying about what to say. I want to talk to you but opening up to others is hard. I’m afraid I’ll start crying or you’ll hear my voice crack. You’re my person. I’m sure of it. You’re everything I’ve hoped for in a person, everything I dream about before I go to sleep at night. You’re doing so well for yourself, but I want to spoil you and be there for you. Not always materially. I know you can cover that for yourself. But being there for you and spending time with you… I heard you were seeing someone. I hope it’s not true and even if it is, I hope it doesn't last. No, I’m not sorry. I’m going to work up the courage to reach out to you soon.

Post-Reading Notes:

Oh Pile 3, you’re so intimidating to your person. Secret admirer vibes. I definitely think you’ve got a very serious or professional energy and an intimidating appearance. That may especially be true if you’re taller than average for your demographic/s. The energies here feel very balanced or neutral (not heavily feminine or masculine) on both your end and theirs.

PILE 4

Your Energy:

Such a beautiful light-hearted energy. There’s such a beautiful and hopeful energy in this relationship here but it’s also possible someone or something is working against you right now. A very important decision is being made. Someone could be trying to take something from you, but keep going. You’ve got this incredible power/energy to you. Vows are super important, be it making them with someone else or making a vow to yourself to gain or achieve something. Collaboration. Having everything you need to succeed. There could be challengers coming your way but you're strong enough to overcome them.

The Message:

I’m sorry. I don’t know, that was immature of me. I swear it wasn’t like you thought but don’t worry I’m going to do better. Honest. You know, I dream about us being together and growing old. I dream about our kids. They’re so stinking cute. We’ve still got growing to do, ok, or I’ve still got growing to do. Please talk to me. You know I hate it when you give me the silent treatment. I know I disappeared on you and that wasn’t cool. I just get so… I care about you a lot. I don’t want to see you hurt. I want the best for you. I know I act all big and bad but I’m a softie at heart. That fight was weird. I don’t like it. It wasn’t like us. It meant nothing I know. Would you pack up and run away with me if I asked? I hate the distance between us right now. Im always listening to our playlist. I know I acted like I'm uninterested in something serious but I am. I want you. I miss you. I want to spoil you and give you everything you deserve. Just give me a chance. Please hear me out.

Post-Reading Notes:

The vibes while doing the reading felt like very young vibes? There’s a youthfulness there. Someone who either is actually young in age or hasn’t grown up emotionally in a certain aspect. It felt like they did something prideful that was hurtful to you and you two are in a disconnect during the moment captured in the reading. It didn’t feel like a serious fight. More so when you’re upset with someone and acting like you’re madder than you really are (your vibes) and the other person is sweating and begging you to talk to them again (their vibes).

Also, idk why but Peter Parker kept coming into my head 🕸️. I’m not feeling to analyse it so take it as you will.

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #pac reading #pick a card reading #pick a pile reading #cozycottagetarot #future spouse reading #future spouse tarot reading #messages from your person #cozycottagetarot readings

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ultra-violet-heart · 5 months

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Fanfare for Frieren (a fan translation)

This is the English fan translation of Fanfare for Frieren (奏送), the accompanying short novella for the opening theme of the Frieren anime, Yuusha by Yoasobi, written by Jirou Kiso with the supervision of manga writer Kanehito Yamada. The images here are from its print/digital version, which has been a bonus from the special edition of Frieren: Beyond Journey's End Volume 12.

Disclaimer: This translation is made by me for fandom purposes only. This unofficial translation is not affiliated with the official Frieren franchise or with Yoasobi. All rights reserved for Frieren: Beyond Journey's End to its respective committees, committee members, staff and rights holders.

Please ask my permission and credit me+this post if you will be re-translating this to other languages. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST THIS OR ITS IMAGES TO OTHER SITES. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE ESPECIALLY ON YOUTUBE AND TIKTOK. Please take the fan translations here with a grain of salt.

I'm posting my Ko-Fi here as currently, I've been having financial trouble regarding my medicine, so if anyone can donate, I would be much grateful for the help, thank you very much.

Five years after the death of Himmel the Hero.

Central Lands, the Capelle [1] Region.

A small city, commonly referred to as “Music City”, was located not far off west of the Royal Capital.

Many renowned musicians, who had established the foundation of court music, went there to study, and they each created orchestras there which continue up to this day. Day and night, orchestral and operatic performances kept theatres crowded, and these performances were well-known in the Central Lands.

The hymns that could be heard from the church also evoked such amicable ties between culture and religion. The singing voices and the performance, both tranquil and powerful, were pleasing to the ears.

There’s unexpected magic in places like this, huh, Frieren thought while walking through the streets with light steps.

She couldn’t visit this place during her journey to defeat the Demon King, but she thought it would have been nice to have taken a detour on the beginning. The journey started from the Royal Capital to the east, she recalled with a little regret.

To that extent, the city was much of a beautiful and isolated place.

The cobblestone pavements reminded one of a flowing music score, while the radial houses reminded one of a well-organized orchestra. The entire city had this atmosphere of welcoming people, so that there was music there for people to listen to.

There might be a wealth of music-related magic in this place. She wasn’t particularly knowledgeable when it comes to music, but folk magic rooted in a distinctive culture was worth collecting for that reason alone.

Following the signboards that were shaped like sheet music and musical instruments, Frieren continued walking.

Just near were an opera house and a museum adjacent to it, and the sound of some rhythm coming from somewhere.

Various sounds overlapped the whole city, however, strangely enough, there was no cacophony at all.

Suddenly, among those sounds, one of the most awkward sounds caught her ear. The timbre sounded like it was carefully walking on ice.

Apparently, a small marching band was passing by in front of the church located in the city’s center. The boys and the girls were preparing for their practice that day, carrying brass instruments too big for their stature and with more percussion instruments than their hands could handle.

A boy wearing a red feathered military hat―or rather, was made to wear one―had this desperate expression as he continued blowing his horn, unconcerned about his reddening face.

Even though from a very young age, all this city’s people had been living together with music.

The sound the boy made while carefully holding the horn, which was said to be the most difficult instrument in the world for humans to play, was not the clearest at all.

However, sometime in the future, that sound will reverberate gallantly and kindly.

Frieren felt it was a timbre suitable for the city.

Frieren continued to walk, as if the small orchestra was pushing her back.

The rustling of leaves, the gurgling water of the fountain, the happy hubbub from the cafeteria. All the sounds of nature and the noise of daily lives here and there gave the impression they were all pleasantly tuned.

It might be said she could stay in here for years while exploring the city thoroughly.

In one corner of the city, there stood an old-looking music store. Its appearance, reflecting its long age, made it stand out.

For some reason, she entered the store. It was a place she wouldn’t normally stop by, but her feet were strangely drawn into it.

Beyond the store’s creaking door, however, a strikingly different but still atmosphere hung about.

Beautifully polished wind instruments. Stringed instruments without a speck of dust. They were placed on a cramped space, lined like capillary vessels. The store’s appearance made it feel like one could hear the breathing of the old craftsman running the store alone.

As she searched for a narrow foothold and was about to head deeper,

“You.” A voice said. Frieren felt it was a matured voice that carefully aged over many years.

An old man, whose white hair was tied up clumsily, peeked out from the back of the store. His sleeves were still rolled up, as if he was still tending to his instruments a short while ago. She caught a glimpse of the old man’s muscles, which were well-toned for his age.

“You… seemed to have lived a life unconnected to musical instruments.”

Adjusting the monocle on his eye, the old man fixed his gaze on Frieren.

“How can you tell?”

“Because you are a face I have not seen before. Those who love music and those who are loved by music will have visited this place sooner or later.”

The old man asserted his words with such sincere belief.

“Those who love music will immediately be obsessed with the instruments here. Those who are loved by music are people my eyes immediately recognize. So, yes, I can tell. Will you let me see your face?”

And then he beckoned her to come closer.

“My, my, I am surprised. It seems like you are the latter.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your ears, the corner of your eyes, your features. You appear to be an elf.”

“I am an elf, but…”

Frieren didn’t immediately catch the drift of the conversation.

“I have something I want people like you to have.”

After saying, “Wait for me,” the old man turned on his heel and took out a small wooden box from the back of the store and opened it. Inside was a palm-sized ocarina-like musical instrument.

The instrument’s intricate design was obvious even to the untrained eye.

“This is the Möglich. [2]”

“Möglich?”

“Its other name is ‘the Impossible’ [2]. It’s an instrument said to take a hundred years to master.”

“I once heard the horn is said to be the most difficult instrument in the world for humans to play.”

Frieren replied, recalling the boy from the marching band earlier. She remembered him struggling to play.

“That is a topic for ordinary humans. This instrument, however, was originally made by elves. You seem to be unaware of this.”

“That’s right. I didn’t know. Though it’s not strange if some elf did invent something like that.”

Frieren knew some of her own kind who spent so many years just killing time. [3]

“My great-grandfather inherited the Möglich, and he analyzed its structure. Apparently, it is impossible to produce a sound with this instrument unless they continue infusing in a small amount of mana while maintaining a perfect equilibrium. It would take more than ten years to produce a proper sound on this instrument. Fifty years is not even enough for an experienced mage to play one tune with it.”

“Really?” Frieren replied vaguely, not making it clear whether she was interested or not.

“I heard after one hundred years of diligently studying it, the sound one can play from this instrument is unparalleled.”

In fact, the old shopkeeper spent his life trying to master it. However, it was impossible for him to master the instrument as he did not possess any magical power. He could not even make it produce a sound.

“There is yet no one who has mastered it, much less know how to play it, so this instrument is still for sale, waiting for a buyer.”

The instrument had this eye-popping price tag. It was an amount that could already buy a house, and there was no way Frieren could afford it, not with the travelling-expenses-money she had on hand.

Of course, Frieren had no intention to buy it.

Certainly, it was rather interesting a fellow elf spent part of their long life in the form of developing this musical instrument. What kind of elf are they? Why did they give it to humans?

Most likely, she felt that this might be no more than a prank. It was an instrument that made sounds that could not be produced within the very short, fleeting lives of humans, after all.

“I am here because I want to hear the Möglich’s melodies one day. I have long sought for that timbre no words can describe. For so many years, this whole time. I eagerly awaited any who loved music or is loved by music to come here and finally fulfill my wish. It might be an impossible dream now, but I feel the guidance of the Goddess is at work that I am able to meet you, an elf.”

“I’m sorry, but…”

“I have no need for your money.”

“I can’t pay, then.”

“I want an elf like you to have it.” The old shopkeeper said with a strong tone.

His eyes held no arrogance on them, as if he was pushing his impossible dream onto someone else, but instead were filled with unadulterated hope.

“………”

After some hesitation, Frieren replied.

“If there’s no other buyers, I’ll think about it. This should be bought by someone who should own it though.”

“I see… Come back. I am sure you will.”

“I’ll be back. I plan on staying here for a while.”

The old man, as if to remind himself, called out to Frieren as she was about to leave.

“What is your name?”

“Frieren.”

“What a fine name. A name loved by music.”

The dusk was casting its shadow over the city by the time she left the music store.

Frieren felt how the city’s tune changed between day and night.

Unlike the bustling daytime and the soundless midnight, the comforting evening was like a soft breeze caressing her cheeks.

Let’s have dinner, Frieren thought.

During the time she traveled with Himmel and their party, Himmel always decided where they would eat. He had this exceptional ability to find out any restaurant that had what Frieren and the others wanted without them telling him what they were in the mood to eat.

How did you know? She once asked him at the dinner table.

“You all have this way of showing what you’re thinking on your faces.”

Himmel smiled as he said this.

“Heiter’s face now has the color of a ditch.”

Eisen took a glance at the drunkard next to him.

“What?!”

Heiter looked back at Frieren, his face looking like an undead. He was so dead drunk he couldn’t tell the difference between Eisen and Frieren.

“You reek of booze.”

Frieren kicked him while Himmel laughed.

“Frieren, you see, I enjoy nothing more than having a meal with the four of us like this. I choose the food every one of us like as I want to make sure we all have a good time.”

She recalled wondering even then if it was the answer to her question.

She then looked at the restaurant now in front of her and thought it had the same appearance and atmosphere as the one from that time.

This restaurant, called Parlante [3], was such a calm place it was like it was not her first time entering it.

“What did Himmel like?”

Thinking back, Himmel always ordered his food last. It was often a different dish from theirs, or he would choose a dish that was easy to share between the four of them.

After that, he would portion out his food little by little, share that, and say, “Isn’t it more fun to have a variety of dishes at once?”

They had eaten around the table in as many places as she could remember. They partook of seafood when they were in coastal towns, they ate wild greens and hunted game in campgrounds, and they particularly were fond of each region’s local specialties.

“The food that can only be eaten in the place you’re in becomes a shared memory with the people you went in with. Even if you forget, you’ll remember again when you go there and eat the local food. That’s how I want to travel.”

Frieren remembered them talking about this one day, so she then called the waiter.

“Is there any dish you can only eat at this restaurant?”

Would Himmel be surprised to find out she had started thinking like that? Or would he laugh and say, “It’s written on your face,” as if he had already predicted this would happen?

The waiter flipped carefully through the menu pages.

“Our specialty is the l'oeuf omelette [4], made of ten chicken eggs. This dish has four servings, so shall I bring you a quarter of that?”

“No, I’ll order it as it is. If I can’t finish it all, I’ll have the rest on take-out.”

This dish, which was loved by well-known musicians, was bigger than expected and took up a large space on the table.

The evening for one person went on, her recalling that lively dinner table she once shared with others.

It has been a month since she stayed, but she had been so distracted by the magic tool shops and the cityscapes, she wasn’t able to fully explore the small city.

Every time she passed the music store, however, the old shopkeeper would enthusiastically call Frieren’s name.

It had become routine for both of them to exchange small greetings.

It wasn’t particularly a trouble to Frieren, but somehow, she felt like going somewhere a bit different for today.

Not far off the city center, there was a street lined with monuments of musicians. Some were well-known, but others were unknown to Frieren.

At the end of the line, however, she found a rather out-of-place statue.

It was a bust of Himmel holding a violin. It was probably commissioned by the time he was travelling alone in neighboring countries after the Demon King’s defeat.

“He was here, too…” Frieren muttered unconsciously.

His eyes were closed, but his facial expression on the chin rest conveyed such a strong will. This must be the work of a skilled craftsman. One could tell a lot of time was spent making the statue. The finish it had was unique even among the more than one hundred types of heroes’ statues.

“So, he could play such a musical instrument.”

She muttered those words to herself, not wanting anyone else to hear, but from behind her came an unexpected response.

“It’s just as Master Himmel said.”

When Frieren turned around, she saw the speaker was an old woman. There was quite a gap between the woman’s voice, which was quite youthful, and the woman’s elderly appearance. The woman continued with a well-projected voice.

“Might you be Lady Frieren?”

“……?”

For a few moments, Frieren couldn’t understand the words directed at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Master Himmel said that when he came here before.”

The old woman, using skillful vocal acrobatics, reenacted her and Himmel’s state during that time.

“One day in the future, a mage named Frieren will visit this city. I want to make a statue that will serve as a landmark for her.”

“A landmark? Won’t everyone just stop in front of Master Himmel instead?”

“I’m sure they will. But I’m also sure they’ll recognize her immediately as she gazes at me.”

“Is that how it is?”

“Yes, it is.”

The old woman cleared her throat once, ending her little performance. Frieren felt it was strange, given the woman was surprisingly good at imitating voices. She was then told the woman was a former star performer at a circus troupe. It was no wonder that the woman’s voice carried through strongly.

“My apologies for the late introduction. My name is Flöte [5]. I got too excited at meeting you, Lady Frieren. This is embarrassing…”

Her cheeks blushed, a complete change from moments earlier when she was still acting with different voice tones.

“I witnessed a good performance.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Flöte smiled like a blooming flower.

“It seems like the statue was worth making.”

“Master Himmel lamented the statue wasn’t enough to convey his charm to the public.”

“Himmel would probably say that.”

Frieren then wiped the rust off the bronze statue’s flowy hair with a rag she carried.

“If only there was a ‘spell that removes rust from bronze statues’, this clean-up would be easier.”

“Let me help you.”

“It’s all right. I can do it on my own. So, why did Himmel say that?”

As all the rust was wiped off and the statue’s smile returned, the old woman answered Frieren with a mysterious look on her face.

“I have a favor to ask of you, Lady Frieren.”

She said it so apologetically that Frieren got an anxious expression.

“…What’s the reward?”

“A grimoire with the ‘spell to record sounds in a book’.”

At that point, Frieren broke into a smile.

“All right, I’m in.”

“So, you want to dispel a spell that will not dispel until the caster dies?”

Frieren asked again, repeating the old woman’s words.

“That’s rather difficult. Nearly impossible, even.”

“’I’m sure Frieren will do it’, that’s what Master Himmel told me before.”

“That’s absurd.”

“I’m also embarrassed to say… I am the caster in question.”

“I’m not getting the situation. What do you mean?”

“I ought to speak in order, then.”

As the old woman said this, she began narrating her personal history.

Flöte was not born in the Capelle region, but in a family of mages, and her parents moved to the area as they hated the horrors of war, and there they established a magical circus troupe. She didn’t originally want to join the troupe, but due to the education she received, she was able to use various magic spells back then.

One of those spells was the ‘spell to erase one memory until death’. It would be a terrible spell if abused by others, but the spell was restricted so that it can only be cast on oneself.

There were many rumors about its effectiveness, which were never true. Some people said it reminded them of the moment of death where one’s whole life flashed before one’s eyes, while others said it meant like being buried in eternal darkness.

In any case, it was a mysterious kind of magic.

One day, when she was 15 years old, having mastered the spell at such a young age, she then cast it upon herself.

Since then, Flöte had lost that one memory, even until now.

“In short, I want to dispel that oblivion spell I casted upon myself.”

“What memory did you erase?”

“That’s the thing: I don’t know. I did erase it, after all.”

With downcast eyes, she connected her words.

“However, I began to wonder if I did lose something important on a whim, especially as I grew older and get closer to death. If, due to the heat of the moment, I buried that memory I shouldn’t have lost with the magic spell I learned, at least, I want to remember what it is before I die. I’m sorry, you might think of this as a selfish request.”

The old woman finally spoke in a voice appropriate for her age.

“When Master Himmel was in the city, I got an opportunity to tell him about it. He then told me about you, Lady Frieren. That Lady Frieren is sure to do something about it.”

Observing Frieren carefully, the old woman then appealed to her.

“Please, will you grant my request? I want to spend the little time I have left, which will pass in the blink of an eye, without any regrets.”

The old woman spoke eloquently, but Frieren didn’t reply, seemingly getting lost in her thoughts.

She walked through the city after, letting time pass, and when night came, she booked a room in a tavern.

Late at night, when the tavern earlier filled with cheerful music finally went quiet, the events of the day came to Frieren’s thoughts as she leafed through the pages of her grimoire.

“This journey must have been a blink of an eye for you,” Himmel said.

The comment came as perfectly natural as picking vegetables in the market.

“I’ve almost died so many times, but now that I’ve made it here, everything feels so nostalgic.”

After the Demon King’s defeat, Himmel continued on as he rode the shaky carriage back to the Royal Capital.

“Frieren. I know you don’t think of this as nostalgic yet, but the day will come when you remember this journey, us, and this moment. I don’t know when that will be. Maybe after I die. Even so, I’m sure you’ll be able to laugh and say, ‘That was a silly journey, wasn’t it?’”

“It’s too early for the serious talk! We haven’t truly defeated the Demon King until we return home!”

Heiter continued to tease them while smiling.

“Well, we still have requests to fulfill.”

On his return to the Royal Capital, Himmel received many requests. He took on small tasks to help people, fixing roads, even searching for lost things.

Their current request back then was from the village undertaker, who asked them to eliminate a monster that only reacted to human corpses.

When asked for more details, the undertaker said there was a dragon blocking the only bridge that connected the village and the town. Since the dragon damaging the area only occurred when corpses were carried away, it was concluded that the dragon had the tendency to target only corpses.

It didn’t respond to scarecrows, and pretending to be dead didn’t work on it either. Since it only paid attention to real human corpses, Frieren guessed it might have eyes that could detect whether a person is alive or dead.

“I’ll act as bait.”

Himmel spoke resolutely, as he always did.

“You just defeated the Demon King, and you want to die here?” Eisen said. “Stop being reckless!”

“Even Eisen, who doesn’t die even if he was eaten by monsters, is useless this time, huh.”

“Heiter, shut up.”

Frieren looked at the two badmouthing each other and then asked.

“Can’t we just borrow a corpse?”

“We can’t do that, Frieren.”

Himmel continued, as if to admonish her.

“A dead person is the image of a life lived fully. We can’t recklessly put that in danger. Besides, even if I’ll be acting as bait, I won’t truly die. Frieren, you can put me in a state of suspended animation, yes?”

“A state of suspended animation?”

She once casted the ‘spell to encase a living creature on ice’ on a ferocious enormous fish. Himmel must have that time in mind when he said this.

“Are you sure? If I make a slight mistake, you’ll truly die.”

“You can do it, right?”

“I don’t know.”

Frieren shrugged her shoulders and…

“Just do it this time. You’re capable of it, after all.”

“Go for it!”

Heiter and Eisen happily cheered.

“I don’t know what will happen.”

Himmel stood on top of the bridge as Frieren took out her staff.

“Frieren. Fire at me.”

A flash of mana concentrated on the staff’s tip then enveloped Himmel. The air around froze, and Himmel quietly collapsed.

Soon after, a very large shadow appeared on the bridge. A dragon came on sight. As it circled the sky above, it went straight at Himmel, as if it had set its sights on him. Its piercing eyes and the sharp claws it brought out now loomed nearer.

Facing that, a large swing of the warrior Eisen’s axe violently exploded.

A heavy, dull sound echoed throughout the area.

White smoke and cold air blended, then wafted away as if they were thawing. One could see that Eisen was the last one standing.

Frieren then promptly used the ‘spell to warm up the skin’ on Himmel’s cold body.

Regaining his breath, Himmel smiled at Frieren with a reddened face.

“See? I told you; you can do it.”

Frieren snapped her grimoire shut.

“The ‘spell to erase one memory until death’, huh.”

The next day, as the morning sun rose, the city became slowly filled with sound.

Frieren woke up on the hard floor far from her bed, and with bed hair she went to Flöte’s house.

It was to put a theory into practice. This was a drastic measure, but in Frieren’s opinion this measure would work.

“Lady Frieren, good morning. Did you find out anything?”

The old woman’s voice seemed refreshed.

“You’ll have to die.”

“Huh?”

“That’s why I’ll put you into the state of suspended animation.”

“……”

There was a moment of confusion from the old woman, then silence. However, after a while, she looked like she had made up her mind.

“Please. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

As soon as she heard those words, Frieren gently raised her staff.

“Lie on the bed. I’m starting.”

“I’ll do whatever it takes, indeed, but are you all right with this…?”

“I’ve done it once before. I can do it.”

“If Lady Frieren says so, then it will be all right. Please do so.”

The spell Frieren casted on the old woman enveloped the latter’s body, and for a moment her body stiffened.

Soon after, however, the old woman’s body regained movement, just like how coloring paint flowed when dissolved in water. She then wore this childlike expression, showing a trace of the young girl she once was.

“How are you?” Frieren asked shortly after. “You technically have died once, so your memory should be back.”

“Hahaha… I was worried like a child…”

The old woman seemed to have recovered her lost memory.

As an adolescent, she didn’t want to join the magical circus troupe. Instead, she yearned for a particular musical instrument.

“The Möglich, the instrument said to take a hundred years to master…”

She strongly yearned for it, but it was too expensive, and she could not spend a hundred years on it, so as a child, she thought she could just forget it existed.

So, she sealed that memory instead. She put the lid on that unattainable wish and began to live on reality.

“I’m glad I remembered… I’ll put my life on the line even if it takes years before I reached my dream, and I’ll start learning from now on.”

“I see. Then, you should have that instrument.”

As the Möglich was an instrument which used magical power to produce sound, without doubt, it would be a good match for Flöte, who was a mage.

“I’ll tell the music store shopkeeper. That there is this customer who has wanted it for a long time.”

“Oh, no. Are you truly sure?”

“I want someone who loves music more than me to have it, you see.”

“Thank you very much. Lady Frieren, I cannot thank you enough.”

“I get rewarded anyways, so…”

“Yes, you’re right.” The old woman took out a grimoire from her bookshelf. “This is the grimoire with the ‘spell to record sounds in a book’. I’m ashamed to say I have already recorded various sounds in this book…”

Flöte’s eyes went downcast as she said this, just like when she and Frieren first met.

“It sounds like a strange hobby, isn’t it? As it was routine for me to travel to various places as part of the magical circus troupe, I had a lot of once-in-a-lifetime chance encounters, and I wanted to preserve them in some form. The local people and the sounds from nature became my source of support. Among these are the recordings of my meetings with Master Himmel.”

“This isn’t a strange hobby. Himmel would have said the same.”

Frieren said she would return the grimoire when she finished reading it, then left the room.

On the same day, Frieren went to Restaurant Parlante, which was now a completely familiar place for her, and ordered an omelette. When she went to bed with a full stomach, she then opened the grimoire the old woman gave her.

Just as Flöte said, the grimoire had sounds from various ages, places, genders of people… some of them were sounds from nature, some being the noise of daily lives.

“You… you look familiar.”

Was this how the old music store shopkeeper sounded like when he was younger?

“I’ll have the ten-egg l'oeuf omelette, please!”

The voice of a very well-known musician continued.

“This time, I’m thinking of starting a marching band in this city.”

“One day in the future, a mage named Frieren will visit this city. I want to make a statue that will serve as a landmark for her.”

She heard Himmel’s voice as she turned a page. His voice was a bit different from the last time she met him, but it was still Himmel’s voice from her memories. It felt nostalgic, too.

And she realized that Flöte’s voice imitation before was a bit exaggerated.

“Please pose quickly! You’re just holding a violin…!”

This was probably the heartbroken cry of the craftsman who made that Himmel bust.

It seemed like Flöte, as a young girl, followed her interests and recorded these sounds from the various places she went, and the chance encounters she cherished. Frieren could just imagine how she looked like during then.

“………”

It might not be a bad idea to retrace that journey with everyone, she thought, looking at the east towards the Royal Capital.

In the end, Frieren decided to leave after staying in the city for around three months.

When she said goodbye to the music store shopkeeper, he excitedly said, “Flöte loves music and is loved by music.” He said the old woman mastered producing sounds on the Möglich at an extraordinarily fast pace, something that would have normally taken ten years.

After all, it was appropriate for those who should own it to have it.

As she was preparing herself to leave with these thoughts in mind, a marching band passed by in front of the tavern.

The boy playing the horn had grown taller in a short time, and his hat now fitted him better. His fingers holding the horn now had calluses on them, and his blowing on it sounded less labored than before.

The sound was brave and gentle, but eventually became grainy.

A celebratory fanfare sounding like a parade salute echoed on Frieren’s back as she left the city.

(END)

Translator’s Notes:

[1] Written as カペッレ in katakana. I decided to translate it as “Capelle”, as the word means “the private orchestra or band of a prince or church”, which is a reference to the marching band in this short novel.

[2] Written as メークリヒ in katakana. In German, “möglich” means “possible”.

[3] Written as パルランテ in katakana. “Parlante” means “a piece of music to be sung or played in the style of a recitative”.

[4] In French, "l'oeuf" means "egg". In short, this word is just a fancy term for "egg omelettes".

[5] Written as フレーテ in katakana. In German, “Flöte” means “flute” or “whistle”.

[6] Frieren was most likely thinking of Milliarde, an elf friend of hers who first appeared in Chapter 69.

#frieren: beyond journey's end #sousou no frieren #frieren #葬送のフリーレン #フリーレン #yoasobi #frieren anime #frieren at the funeral #himmel #heiter #eisen #kanehito yamada #jirou kiso #yuusha #勇者

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rubra-wav · 1 month

Text

Why So Blue? Vox x Reader

[ Part 1 - A Like Morning Unlike Others ]

A/N: I have a kind of loose idea of where I'm maybe taking this one, but I am very much open to any suggestions.

People asked to be tagged in what was going to be part 2 to the oneshot. My ideas changed a bit with this tho, and it's being rewritten as a fic from the start - sorry if this isn't what you really had in mind w that request 😭

[ Taglist ] @gigglesandshits @serendipitous-fernweh @valentinosbabycakes @ seriouslyaverage (won't let me @ ???)

[ part 2 ] >>

Cw: SFW, Gn!Reader, slight staticmoth reference

The morning you first showed up was like any other for the Video Star.

As always, Vox awoke at 7:00 am on the dot, staring at the ceiling for a couple of seconds as his system warmed up properly for the day ahead.

After the 'sleep' cleared from his mind, he sat up and then climbed from his bed to quickly change before swiping his phone off his nightstand as he walked to the personal kitchen in his part of the building (he had it installed so he didnt have to see his colleagues before his persona was up to snuff) and began scrolling through his emails.

He opted for those from Carmine rather than Velvette or Valentino.

It was frankly too fucking early to deal with whatever bullshit they were yelling about on seemingly all of his socials in his mind. (a decision he'd come to regret rather soon)

Last night's hangover still clung to him, but he pushed through it. He was rather happy all things considered. Carmine's email confirmed that she was on board with partnering up for personal surveillance systems without much questioning, thankfully.

He was about to get even fucking richer.

He grinned widely at the prospect as he leisurely made his coffee - black, naturally - fantasising about how he'd be able to spy on hell's citizens even more with them literally installing surveillance cameras into their own homes for security purposes.

Those poor, desperate idiots practically exploit themselves!

Vox chuckled at the thought, humming as he walked in the direction of his broadcast room, scrolling to look over the email Carmine sent once again to fully understand all agreements. To try to see what he'd be able to push her into doing potentially.

The hatch to his lair broadcast room opened loudly and closed just as loudly behind him as his footfalls echoed in the silent room against the cold tiles.

Vox didn't look up once as he made his way to his seat.

He didn't need to.

He knew where everything was in here as nobody else was ever in here. And if they were?

Well, those demons wouldn't be 'employed' much longer, we'll say that.

His seat squeaked as he sat on it, sipping his coffee as he swiped through some more notifications.

He glanced at his monitor momentarily as he took a deep sip of coffee that would gross anyone else out, then promptly choked on it, gracelessly spitting some onto his keyboard and lap.

He felt truly chilled to the bone for the first time in a long while.

Wide, red eyes watched in horror as a very drunk version of himself from last night met him. In the video, he was shaking his hips from where he stood on a bar while singing (he assumed) shittily if his memory served right.

The video was muted from where it played on the screen of every monitor in his room, but he expected it.

His frozen present self watched himself in the video as drunk Vox stumbled and then proceeded to topple off-camera to the ground.

His instant assumption was that Valentino or Velvette had posted it online, but that was quickly off the cards when he noticed that not only were both of them watching him while laughing with no phones in their hands, but it was posted from his own fucking Sinstagram account.

It already had over a million likes, and it'd been up for only an hour at this point. His colleagues wrote surprised comments underneath, asking if he meant to post it. Valentino adding that Vox looked cute in it either way.

He could feel his fear and anger rising, loud zaps of electricity emitting from him already as his claws dug into either armrest of his desk chair, leaving long scratch marks on them which exposed the padding within.

Then he read the bottom caption of the looped post of himself and fully lost it.

'For someone who talks so big about being ahead technologically, it was awfully easy to hack old Boxy here.'

Vox lets out a loud, enraged yell, slamming his fist on his desk, promptly causing himself to Bluescreen and knocking out much of Pentagram's electricity in the process despite not being plugged into his set-up.

On the other side of the city, you laugh loudly as you watch the press conference where the Tech demon overlord fought to clean up his image.

It began just a few minutes after you were exposed to Vox's rage in the form of your lights shutting off.

It didn't affect your setup, of course. A certain someone you knew had helped you craft it, and it ran on a different server.

While others were still waiting for their shit to get back in order after Vox stopped plastering his rather strained grin on every screen, you were watching the press conference in one window while admiring how quickly his men raced to try and patch up the code you'd gotten through last time in another.

Of course, it hardly would do anything for you the next time around you decided to clown on him.

You shifted into a cross-legged position on the floor, glancing between the mess of old and new monitors surrounding you all interlocking with equally messy and tangled cables.

You passively wondered if anyone had been killed during all this, expecting yes, but not paying much attention to it. You couldn't do anything about what he decided to pull in response to your attacks.

Anything for your entertainment.

You cracked your fingers loudly as you began to prepare for the next bag of shit you'd be leaving on his doorstep.

Snickering with a smile, you watched his hypnosis ability activate, manipulating everyone watching outside of your own eyes.

They would forget this, but you wouldn't. And neither would Vox. You'd make sure all of them remembered you eventually.

Snorts and giggles echoed out in the silence of your small, shitty apartment as you mulled over all the things you had planned for the next few months.

Jesus christ, this would be fun.

Yeah, this reader isn't a good person either. They just wanna fuck around with Vox as much as they can and don't care much who becomes cannon fodder in the process.

I was considering also writing pt. 2 into this as well, but I figured that I would do this as just a taster for this series starting for the first post. Pt. 2 will be soon 🙏

Why So blue Masterlist (not much here yet obv)

Main Masterlist

#hazbin hotel #vox #vox x reader #vox headcanons #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel vox x reader #vox fanfiction #why so blue fic

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invalidstories · 28 days

Note

Helooo!

I read your snippet of the Villain’s Lair” and I really loved it!

I was wondering if you could please continue that! It’s really interesting and I’d love to read that again!

Thank you!

Have a great day! Don’t forget to keep yourself hydrated!🤍👍

Villain's Lair (Part 2)

Thank you for reminding me to pay attention to my neglected water bottle. 🥰 I'm really glad you like the snippet, here is part 2 of it. I don't know if this is exactly what you looking for but I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse, disownment, mentions of being neglected, past trauma, violence, restraints

Part 1

In the dimly lit alley behind the rundown building, Villain gently lowered the henchman's child to the ground, their small frame trembling with fear. The child's tear-streaked face tugged at Villain's heartstrings, reminding them of their lost innocence.

"Everything is alright, little one," Villain murmured softly, crouching down to meet the child's gaze. "You're safe now. We'll stay here until your father comes for you."

The child nodded, clutching onto Villain's hand with trembling fingers. The moment didn't last long as Villain spotted the other villain hurtling towards them, with a dangerous smile playing at their lips. With a reassuring squeeze of the child's hand, they straightened up, their mind already racing ahead to the next task at hand.

Villain prepared to confront their enemy, they braced themselves, ready to fight the other villain in a desperate bid to protect the child and their secrets.

But before Villain could move, a figure darted forward with speed, intercepting the threat with a swift, well-placed blow to the head. The other villain crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

"Villain?" the voice spoke, surprise evident in their voice.

Startled, Villain squinted to see Hero standing at the entrance, their expression a mix of surprise and suspicion. The villain's muscles tensed, ready to defend themselves against the hero's attack.

But to their surprise, Hero made no move to attack. Instead, they approached cautiously. "What are you doing here?" Hero demanded.

Villain hesitated, weighing their options. Should they reveal their true intentions to Hero, or stick to their carefully constructed facade? They decided to be honest, as Hero already knew about the child.

"I was just dropping off henchman's child," Villain replied, their tone guarded. "Making sure they're safe."

Hero turned to face Villain, their gaze piercing. "Enough games, Villain," they said with a firm voice. "You just pulled up a new version of yourself from the past few days and decided that it is perfectly normal. People don't change overnight."

Villain sighed, "You're acting like we're best friends now, and you've known me for so long that you know what I'm like. Why does it concern you, you should probably be concerned about how regularly you wash your dirty suit."

"Number one, I wash my very clean suit every day," Hero scofted. "I just want to know what's really going on, and what's driving you to do all of this?" They asked.

Villain hesitated, caught off guard by the concern in Hero's voice. For a moment they considered brushing off the inquiry with a dismissive remark, but something in Hero's gaze gave them pause.

With a heavy sigh, Villain relented, their shoulders slumping in resignation. "It's... kind of complicated, and you probably won't believe me," they began, their voice tinged with regret. "You see, this started before I became the villain."

As Villain recounted their past to Hero, the weight of their childhood burdens seemed to grow heavier with each word. "I was forced into this life," they confessed, their voice wavering. "My parents were cruel and abusive, pushing me into a world of crime even though I didn't want to. You'd find it funny that I wanted to become a doctor."

Hero's heart ached at the sympathy, trying to understand the depth of pain and suffering that Villain had endured. They listened carefully as Villain described the beatings and the threats that were a part of the harsh environment of their upbringing.

"My parents disowned me when I was still a teenager," Villain continued, their voice laced with bitterness. "They saw me as nothing more than a tool to be used and discarded, and I was cast out into the streets with nothing to my name."

Villain told them how they found solace in the only world they knew, the world of crime and villainy. It was a familiar territory to them, and all they have ever known.

"But as I continued, I realized that I didn't want to continue the cycle of violence and abuse that had defined my life," Villain confessed, "I wanted to make a difference, and ensure that others didn't suffer the same fate."

Driven by a newfound purpose, Villain took it upon themselves to protect those who were vulnerable and powerless, such as children of their henchmen. They couldn't change the past, but they could shape the future, ensuring that no child would be forced into a life of crime and despair as they had been.

"And so, I did what I can to help them. I may still be known as a villain, that's probably all I'll ever be, but at least these kids will have a choice," Villain explained, their voice tinged with sadness as they glanced at the child.

As Villain finished their story, Hero felt embarrassed, "I... I always thought you were just a ruthless murderer," Hero admitted, "And so cold, always so... unfeeling."

"It's reasonable," they replied, their voice measured. "That's the image I've been trying to create over the years – it's how I protect myself from being betrayed or attacked."

Hero nodded. "I'm sorry," they murmured, "I should have realized that."

The criminal didn't reply, or meet their gaze. Villain's expression was neutral again, transforming them into their former self except for the hand holding the child's.

The silence was interrupted by a soft groan from the shadows. Turning, they saw the other villain they had subdued moments ago beginning to stir.

"We should tie them up before they wake," Hero suggested.

Villain nodded in agreement, their cold demeanor returning as they approached the unconscious villain. They bound the villain's hands and feet, ensuring they posed no immediate threat.

As looked at the villain tying knots, Hero couldn't help but think back to the conversation they had with Villain. "This one," Hero began cautiously, "they mentioned something about knowing that you were trying to keep the children of your henchmen out of your activities. And that's why they were after the child."

Villain paused. "I suspected as much," they replied, their voice quiet.

Hero's mind raced with possibilities. "We need to find out who else knows about this," they said, gesturing at the unconscious villain, "And I'll bring him back to the headquarters."

Villain nodded in agreement, their expression changing into something unreadable.

As they separated in different ways, they learned that despite their differences, they were united in their desire to protect the innocent and ensure a better future for those who hadn't been so lucky.

"The past cannot be changed. The future is yet in your power."

Masterlist

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ghost-bxrd · 2 months

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I want Fae!Dick to scare Deathstroke, or Jason using his "scary big brother privileges" 🥺

Omg literally can you imagine tho!?

Like, I don’t know much about Deathstroke, only that he’s apparently had a phase or two where he’s obsessed with Robin and making him his apprentice.

And Dick? Oh boy did Slade bite off more than he could chew with that particular sidekick.

Dick is amused.

When Slade tries to threaten him? Well, sure. Okay, he can play along. He’s got his gimmick with the titans right now and Bruce isn’t here to lecture him on morals. So, bring it, old man! And Slade? Totally convinced he scared the kid into submission? He’s in for a nasty surprise, because he was expecting an angry, terrified kid who was gonna fight him every step of the way. Someone he’d have fun breaking and molding into his version of a good soldier.

He’s not prepared for Dick “several rows of teeth” Grayson, for Robin “you should really work on leaving so many loopholes in your instructions” sidekick to Batman, for Richard “I am about to make you regret the day your mom and dad had their first kiss” Grayson-Wayne.

And Slade does. He regrets it so, so much. By day seven he’s ready to throw in the towel when he once again wakes up in the middle of a swamp with Robin splashing through the murky waters like it’s a day at the beach, animatedly talking to a something that looks like an alligator but has way too many eyes and feathers to be one.

“What? You only said not to move anywhere with trees again. We’re in a swamp!”

“This counts as the woods!”

“You said trees tho” :))))

“There ARE trees!!!!”

“They’re mangroves, jackass. God, read the room. They’re real sensitive about being called trees.”

(Slade will forever deny that he sheds a tear out of sheer relief when Batman comes to pick up his weird af kid)

And I’m afraid Jason would never actively have to invoke scary older brother privileges. It’s more of a “Dick, I know I complained about my maths teacher one (1) time, but please don’t have the deer eat her.”

Dick, who was totally about to tell the deer to eat her: “… Not even a nibble?” 🥺

#the swamps mentioned above are inspired by parts of the Everglades #because that’s honestly also like it’s very own micro world #very beautiful #and very terrifying #in a different way to the swamps I have at home #a yippee to the diversity earth’s nature has to offer #also a yay to fae dick being an absolute menace without even trying #fae dick grayson #I’m sorry but literally I think Jason (and all the other batfam members) would have to hold dick back from lowkey vicious #with any minor inconvenience #dick would jump straight to violence if he thinks someone is hurting his precious family #meanwhile Jason: it was literally just a B for my English essay #dick: so does that mean I get to use her as fertilizer for the soil?#Jason: N O wtf is wrong with you?#dick: :((((((#Bruce: *headache*#jason todd #batfamily #dick grayson #batfam #robin #Nightwing #fae #the other things from the woods

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funky-little-archivist · 6 months

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Okay besties listen to me right now. Here’s how steddyhands can still win (real and true)

Stede and Ed clearly love each other very much, but they just can’t seem to stop fighting. They can’t seem to get on quite the same page, and this is a problem they’ve had from the start. They both want different things at the end of the day, and they just haven’t been able to reconcile that issue. Ed wants to explore non pirate life, which he’s never really had a chance to do, while Stede wants to explore pirate life for the exact same reason. I can’t really point at either of them and say that either of these things are wrong or they’re being intentionally malicious with each other. I also can’t point at the writers and complain about them stringing us along when all we want is for gentlebeard to be happy because this feels like very natural progression for both of them. As I said, they’ve been heading in this direction from the very start of the show.

So you know what I think they need? A stabilizing force. An anchor. A mediator. These are two whim-proned people who need someone to keep them grounded. And who’s sitting right there waiting for the chance to do exactly that? Izzy.

All season, apart from the parts where he was mourning blackbeard and the loss of his leg, izzy has been doing pretty much exactly that for both of them. Yes last season izzy was pretty much nothing but toxic for Ed, encouraging the worst parts of him. But he’s since come to regret that and was actively the one that stopped his downwards spiral. And he’s been coaching Stede, getting to know him better and teaching him how to pirate properly. This season izzy has really been encouraging both of them towards the goals they had at the start of season 1, in a way, making them the versions of themselves they want to be. But it does seem like he doesn’t intend for Stede to go off the deep end like Ed did either, as izzy discouraged him getting into the bar fight and kept trying to make him back down. I don’t think season 1 izzy would have ever done that for Ed. He’d have wanted blackbeard to defend his reputation. I think izzy wants them to be better, and as he said he actively approves of and encourages Stede and Ed’s relationship. He knows that they’re good for each other, and he doesn’t necessarily want to see them break up. But he also wants them to be the best versions of themselves.

And I’m honestly starting to think that’s what they need. As I said, they need a calming force, because both of them are very active passionate energies in their own way. But here’s the thing, I could be crazy but I’m actually starting to suspect maybe there’s a chance the show is going in this direction as well? I mean I could be reading too much into it, and listen I’ll be the last to put faith into this kind of theorizing again. But listen

How could it possibly not have been intentional to have izzy serenade Ed and stede’s first time together? It could have been literally anyone. It could have been frenchie, we’ve seen him sing before. But no, it was izzy, he got glammed up, showing his immense emotional growth and maturity compared to the first season, and had him practically sing his blessings for their relationship. And yes, maybe that’s all it was meant to symbolize, that izzy approves now and has moved on. Except he so clearly hasn’t moved on (we all saw that heart eyes stare he gave Ed in man on fire) and for me it’s the fact that he actually played an active part in their scene together, at least for the audience. He set the mood guys. In a sort of metatextual way, izzy was part of Ed and stede’s love scene.

And then there’s the fact that the show has been exploring non traditional non monogamist relationships for the entire season. I mean, already in season 1 we had Lucius telling izzy that they don’t get jealous when izzy tried to use that against him, but now we have olu and Jim actively celebrating each other’s relationships with other people despite still sort of being in some kind on non platonic relationship (shown by olu calling Jim babe during the safe space stand still scene). Olu, Jim and Archie sort of formed a straight up throuple? And then olu and zheng almost invited Jim and Archie to? Share a room with them?? Maybe? Whatever the case, it’s all fluid. And that’s okay! This type of relationship fluidity has been so normalized on the show, I don’t really see a reason for them to get precious about Stede and Ed being the only exclusive couple. At it makes sense, sexual fluidity has always been an integral part of the queer community and it’s so refreshing to see it represented here realistically. (Not to say that monogamy isn’t also accepted and valid in queer spaces but many shows have and will continue to represent that. It’s nice to see a representation of the less traditional, less “sanitized” side of queerness.) (edit: AND LET’S NOT FORGET SPANISH JACKIE! hell she was doing it before anyone else)

And hey as a bisexual myself I understand not everyone will like this allusion but I did see someone say that izzy is quite literally Ed and stede’s unicorn lmao. So. there’s that.

And not that this would be a perfect solution to all their problems either. I don’t want izzy to just continue to play custodian to Ed’s problems and add stede’s to that as well, not to mention that izzy and Ed have SO much work to do to fix their mess of a relationship. But I just think maybe all three of them can help balance each other out, mediate each side of the triangle. The dynamic would just be so satisfyingly perfect, and hey, a stool can’t hold up anything with just two legs, but with three it is stable.

Anyway, basically I’m starting to see it guys and maybe I’m crazy but maybe there’s actually a chance here. Again, I’m by no means saying this is 100% going to happen, and most likely I’m seeing things they didn’t intend. But from interviews from David jenkins and the cast, to subtext in the show, I think maybe there’s a non zero chance. Either way, I cannot wait to see what this show has in store for us in the last three episodes.

#ofmd #our flag means death #gentlebeard #blackbonnet #steddyhands #Stede bonnet #Edward teach #izzy hands #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 #stizzy #blackhands #ofmd meta

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moonlightdreamzz · 9 months

Text

THIN APOLOGIES / PART 1

SUMMARY ✰ Mark is your boyfriend, and Vernon is your best friend. You're sick of Mark not treating you right, and Vernon is too. He's also sick of watching from the sidelines when he knows no one can make you happier than him.

PAIRING ✰ Idol!Mark x Idol!Reader x Idol!Vernon

GENRE ✰ ANGST & FLUFF

NOTE ✰ This is actually the first story I ever wrote in my entire life three years ago. It’s my baby. I said to myself, I should rewrite this because the original version was written like the beginner I was at the time. I hope you all enjoy. It’s so good.

Blonde by Frank Ocean has been playing on loop for hours over your speakers. For what seems like days, your gaze has been fixed on the candle blazing in front of you. There are numerous reasons why you can't take your eyes off its flame—the first being that if you do, you'll be forced to see all of the decorations and food you prepared for Mark, who has decided for the third time in a row that you aren't important enough to show up for. All of his favorite things are strewn throughout your living room, unused.

The second reason you can't tear your gaze away from the flame is that you're intrigued. The lavender-scented wax is nearing the end of its life after being used for so long. What happens when there’s none left? Does the flame die peacefully? Or does the jar burn and combust, leaving you regretting not extinguishing the flame sooner?

Sick isn't the word to describe how your boyfriend has made you feel over the past few months. You’ve tried to see the positives of his absence right now, but it’s utterly impossible. What could you say to yourself? At least you got ditched in the comfort of your own home this time, Y/N? And not in a restaurant, or a random parking lot his manager drove you to?

Mark always has his excuses of course. His favorite one to use was that you don’t understand the sacrifices it takes to be an idol. When the two of you first began to have issues, you took those words to heart. You know how much he’s sacrificed to be where he is, and you never wanted him to think you were that girl—the girl who got in a relationship with an idol and acted like she didn’t know what she was signing up for. As time passed, you realized that he was just manipulating you.

He’s so good at it too. Or maybe he’s just an incredibly beautiful man, whose doe eyes could convince anybody that he indeed is a good person—he just doesn’t think sometimes. You just wish he’d understand that you indeed do understand his life, it’s simply his unfulfilled promises that are so incredibly frustrating. Summer Walker once said, “it doesn’t matter how hard I I try, I say it nice, yell it out loud, write it down, I’m tired.” She damn sure was right.

“Why plan a date you can’t come to? Just tell me it’ll be awhile before I’ll see you again.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I thought I could make it.”

Your phone begins vibrating on your coffee table infront of you, interrupting the reflecting that you’re tired of doing anyways. You know it’s Mark, back again with whatever his reason is this time for not showing up. For a second, you consider not picking it up. Maybe if he knew what it felt like to be abandoned, he’d stop doing it to you.

You inhale deeply before picking up the phone, surprised at whose name is popping up.

“Vernon?” You whisper to yourself. You feel a brief burst of happiness before immediately shifting to concern due to the time of night.

You and Vernon have been close friends since debut. Some would say it’s because you two are the English speakers of your group, but you only saw that as a plus in your friendship. In reality, Vernon was a quirky, artsy, adorably curious boy, and you always felt this weird urge to…protect him. You figure he was drawn to how you never judged him, and how open you were about what you referred to as “Vernon’s philosophies”. He got your jokes, and you pretended you understood his. The rest is history.

Laughter escapes your throat, scaring you simultaneously as you can’t remember the last time you genuinely found anything funny. In the midst of your giggles, Vernon begins to FaceTime you, and you don’t hesitate to answer the phone.

You can see through the phone how hard he’s trying to be irritated with you, but you also notice how bad he’s failing at doing so. The corner of his pink lips are twitching, and his hooded eyes are melting along with it as neither of you break virtual eye contact with each other. This only makes you laugh even harder. His flawless features don’t hold long, and he’s smirking boyishly now.

“You really think this is funny, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well you know what I think is funny right now? You’re alone right now.” He jokes.

“Ha ha,” You laugh sarcastically, “Am I really this worthless? Like be honest.” You question, a sad smile naturally creeping onto your features as reality attempts to set back in.

Vernon’s eyes roll aggressively, followed by a deep inhale. You know him. He wants to tell you about yourself, and remind you of all the times you promised him you’d have more confidence, just to end up asking him questions like this in the end. It takes him longer than you expected to find kind words to say to you, but you appreciate the fact that he cares enough to spare you, because he wouldn’t do it for anyone else.

“Don’t ever call yourself worthless. He’s the worthless one. If he can’t see how amazing you are,that’s his problem and you shouldn’t just sit here and take it, Y/N. That’s not even like you.”

“But…I love him.”

“Yeah...that always sucks doesn’t it?” He says, almost as if he’s speaking to himself and not you. “I know it’s late, but how about I come keep you company Y/N?. You deserve to be happy for at least a few hours don’t you think?” He chuckles.

He’s no longer looking directly at you. He’s looking at whatever is below him now. Vernon coming to keep you company isn’t a terrible idea. Right now, you so deeply crave to be around someone who actually cares about you, and he’s a clear candidate.

“Yeah! Let me get dressed and I’ll come pick you up.”

“Do really think I’d let you leave your house at this hour to do anything for me?”

“Well, how else are you gonna get here? You don’t have a car and I know your manager is knocked out.”

His boyish smile returns, and you already know a sarcastic comment is closer than around the corner. “You ever heard of uber?”

Now you’re the one rolling your eyes. Was this okay? I mean, the two of you are only friends, but Dispatch nor fans would care about that if they so happened to be stalking you. Him coming over late could turn into a whole situation that you aren’t in the mood to hear about.

“What if you get caught?” You question, although unconsciously do you begin to tidy up in your living room.

“I didn’t.”

He didn’t? Was he already—

Your doorbell ringing interrupts your thoughts.

“Vernon!” You scream through the phone, so many questions running through your mind.

“Are you going to let me in, or are we gonna hangout from outside the door?” He snickers slyly.

You should have known he was up to no good the moment you couldn't identify where he was from his surroundings. All you saw was darkness, but you imagined he was walking around his neighborhood or simply in the dark, because that was so Vernon.

With precision and quickness, you run to the door and open it. You’re still dolled up; face beat like it’s prom night from the date you should’ve been wrapping up by now. Vernon steps in, and for a second it seems like he’s frozen in place. It’s embarrassing, as you often got reactions like this when you dressed up because without an occasion, you were going to choose sweatpants, a graphic tee, and crocs everytime.

“Woah.” He utters.

“What? You just saw me on the phone, Vernon.” You question amusingly before walking to your kitchen to grab him a water.

“Thank you.” He whispers as he takes it out of your hand. “It’s just…you’re so…ugly.”

You know that he thinks you’re going to hit him immediately, so you wait an extra second before punching him lightly in his stomach.

“Shut up!” You laugh, loudly this time. It’s a rare occurrence these days for anything to unconsume your mind of Mark Lee, but Vernon’s doing that with ease right now. “You stay your ass right there and I’ll be back. I should probably take all this off.” You whisper while pointing to you and all your current glory.

“Take your time.” Vernon utters, no funny business in the room now. His smile is gentle as he nudges you towards your room.

You began walking in slow motion down your hallway. “Oh trust me, I will.” It doesn’t take you long to strip down to your natural state. You remove your clothes first, settling on a gray t-shirt you’ve had for years. If you didn’t have company, you’d stop it at that. You decide on some matching gray pajama shorts. The sight of Mark’s clothes in the drawer pisses you off all over again. As you remove your makeup, you can't help but squeal with delight. The wipes that you bought in replacement of the ones that took way too many to clean your face, was worth the investment.

The final touch is your bonnet, which you slip on your head with ease. Your icy feet drag over the hallway floor, a flood of fatigue washing over you.

“Awe.” Vernon coos when you reappear. In the midst of you getting ready for bed, he carefully placed all of the decorations you left out for Mark out of sight in the kitchen. He really wanted to throw it away, but that wasn’t his decision to make. Netflix is waiting for two of you.

“Don’t awe me.” You plop yourself on the couch so hard you’re pretty sure Vernon levitates for a second. You push the button to recline your seat, shutting your eyes right and leaning your head back with a sigh. “Thank you, Vernon.” You say the second you realize he cleaned up your clutter. The room feels less heavy now that you’re not forced to look at your wasted hard work. You feel his gaze on you, but energetically, you can’t interpret why he’s staring at you. You’ll settle on pity.

“Ah, I haven’t done much. Plus, you’ve always been there for me.”

Your comfort turns into guilt, recalling all the times you haven’t been there for your close friend in the midst of you and Mark’s relationship crashing. “Not like this.” You utter.

“Well, no you haven’t surprised me with a big box of donuts and a new video game,” He chuckles, “But you’ve been there for me. A lot of times unknowingly, if I’m being honest. Your presence alone…does a lot for me—I mean, for people.” He rambles. “Plus, I’m one of a kind, anyways.”

A smile creeps onto your features at him teasing you lovingly. You’re beginning to doze off, which typically makes you stare at things unintentionally. Your target tonight is Vernon, who is sitting extremely close to you right now. Your hand begins to entangle themselves in his locs, causing his eyes to flutter in relaxation.

“Enough about me.” You protest softly, “What’s going on in the life of Hansol, hm?”

“Nothing much,” He whispers, enjoying the feeling of your hands running through his scalp. His eyes are stuck on the ceiling, but you know he’s still listening to you. “I’m like a robot these days. I wake up, go to practice, go back to the dorm, sleep, repeat.”

“Why didn’t eat make the list?”

“Oh yeah, that too. But you know me. If I have to pick between sleeping and eating, I’m picking the first option.”

“Oh I know.” You can’t count on one hand the amount of times you scolded Vernon for sleeping too much, even though you do the same thing the second you get a break from schedules.

“Too much of a good thing, is a bad thing, Vernon.”

“Not everything.” He whispers, seemingly dazed out now. You’re ceiling wasn’t that interesting. He has something on his mind, but you’re not sure if you want to pick his brain. If he wanted you to know what’s on his mind, he’d say it. At the same time, you’re his right hand woman, and he’ll just have to deal with you being in his business.

Your eyebrows raise in an interrogative fashion. “Give me an example?”

“You.” He says simply. His eyes lock themselves into yours confidently, but you’re unsure how to feel. What was he trying to say? Is he flirting? Is he just being kind? It’s always been so hard for you to understand him when he gets like this.

“What about me?” Is all you can manage. You’re not sure why you’re nervous now, but you are. You hope you’re not making it obvious that his comment has made your breathing unsteady.

“I’m just saying it’s impossible to get tired of you. ‘Too much’ of you,” he air quotes, “would make the world a much better place.”

“You think so?” You question genuinely. “Mark doesn’t seem to think so.”

“Mark is a fucking idiot.” He spits out.

“I’m not gonna disagree.”

“I mean look at everything you did for him today, just for him to not show up?” Vernon begins to frantically point in all directions of your home, including at yourself as well as your kitchen. “What kind of boyfriend doesn’t come home to this?”

Silence is the only thing you can provide right now. One because he’s right, but two, because you’ve never seen Vernon so riled up on your behalf. He was the one always talking you off cliffs, not the other way around.

“Sorry,” He clears his throat. His voice is back to his regular tone now.

“Don’t be. Thank you for caring about me.”

You don’t know why, but you feel a desire to nuzzle into Vernon’s shoulder, so you do. Naturally, he wraps his arm around your shoulder to allow you more comfortability. Maybe it’s wrong, maybe it’s not, but it doesn’t feel wrong being in his arms right now. You know if you consider Mark, you should pull away, but when’s the last time Mark considered you?

“Is this okay?” He questions, his tone a mixture of hope and concern as he’s likely reading your mind right now. He had a knick for that when it came to you.

“It’s okay.” You decide. I mean, who’s going to catch you?

The two of you lay like that for the remainder of the night, watching a movie that Vernon puts on, but you can't concentrate. All you can think of is how you're lying in the arms of another man, your heart fluttering. That isn't supposed to happen. However, your thoughts are brief because you quickly find yourself dozing off in his arms that feel as if they never want to let you go.

It’s the wee hours of the morning when your phone rings, and then vibrates, indicating someone has called and texted you.

You and Vernon sleep through it.

TO BE CONTINUED

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ladykailitha · 9 months

Text

Royal Pain Part 14

Hello! Sorry this is a couple days late. I was really struggling with Eddie's reveal in the last part of this chapter and I wrote three different versions of it before I liked it well enough to be considered done.

And then WIP Wednesday was a smashing success and it kept me busy almost all night. I had so much fun. You're always welcome to join me and send me asks.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

So without further ado...

***

That night when Steve closed up his shop with Robin, Steve looked down at the necklace that had been around his neck all day.

“Robin?” he whispered.

She froze and turned to him slowly. He never called her that unless it was serious. It was always Robs or Robbie, never Robin. As she face him, she spotted the necklace dangling from his neck as he rubbed his fingers over the warm surface.

She walked over to Steve and carefully took it from his grasp. “Is that a guitar pick?” she asked gently.

Steve nodded. “It’s his lucky guitar pick, it was the first pick his uncle ever bought for him when he was learning how to play.”

Robin looked him in the eyes. “You want to know what it means that he gave it to you, don’t you?”

Steve gulped and looked away. “I thought I was reading too much into his feelings for me when he made the joke about Chrissy, but now I’m not so sure. The only thing he took from what you told him was my coffee order. The flowers, the necklace, the bagels...that was all him.”

Robin let the necklace drop and wrapped her arms around him. “Look, I know it’s tempting to jump feet first into this. But you can’t. Get to know him. Take it slow. You don’t know what kind of hell he’s been through in the intervening years.”

Steve let out shuddering sigh. “It’s so hard. I’m really struggling with this. It’s like I don’t know how to make friends anymore.”

She smacked him upside the head.

“Ow!” he cried. “What the hell was that for?”

“You made friends with Argyle and Chrissy,” Robin reminded him. “Not to mention Miranda and the other band members. You can make friends just fine. You’re sweet and personable. And clearly he at least wants to be friends with you.” She tugged on the necklace.

Steve looked down at the necklace and let out a slow breath. “Yeah.”

She poked his forehead. “You are letting your intrusive thoughts get a better of you. You’re in love with him, that much is clear. But if you love him, you’ll go at his speed. Capeesh?”

Steve lift his head and tried to steady his jaw as it shook, trying to cry.

“I’m so scared,” he whispered.

She kissed his cheek. “I know, Stevie. But you’ll figure it out. You’re smarter then people give you credit for.”

He hugged her tight. She hugged back just a fiercely. “Now, come on,” she said with a hint of a sniffle. “I would love to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

Steve snorted. “I think it’s clear when I’m not tattooing him, I can’t be left alone with him.”

Robin sighed. “Right, next time he comes over I won’t spend the night at Erica’s. If nothing else to make sure you go to bed on time.”

Steve grinned. “You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah, yeah...”

Eddie got home to from the shop, glad that Steve had forgiven him. He touched the spot where the necklace used to be. He didn’t regret giving it to Steve. He wanted to add roses to the apology bouquet but he was terrified of sending the wrong message. Pink meant friendship, white purity, red romantic love. And if he was honest Steve was all of those things to him, but hella confusing in a bouquet. So he just didn’t.

Steve was surprised he remembered the everything bagel he would bring to class when they shared English together Eddie’s second go at graduating. But how could Eddie forget? The teacher hated it because it had a strong scent to it. Most of the class didn’t care so the bitter old hag couldn’t call him on it. It was glorious.

Eddie cherished any memory of the teachers having as rough a go at it as he was experiencing. No matter who was causing the grief. So yeah. That might have been the first time he realized he was head over heels with Steve Harrington resident queen bitch.

He loved that Steve had leaned into the whole royalty thing for his tattoo shop. It was funny in a way most shops weren’t.

Before he could get too deep into his thoughts, there was a knock on his door. He got up to answer it and there were Jeff and Mandy.

“Hey, guys,” Eddie greeted. “Come on in. Pizza’s on it’s way.”

“Score!” Mandy crowed. “Let’s see it!”

Eddie turned around for them to look at it through the cellophane wrap. “It’s not ready to come out yet, but I figure it would be ready for the lotion by the time we finish dinner.”

Mandy’s blunt nails dragged along the outside of where Steve had worked on today. “Jesus Christ, Eddie I’d marry him for his art work. That’s so fucking incredible.”

Eddie nodded. “Add to the fact that he’s the right balance of bitchy and sweet, hot as fuck and might totally be into me? Yeah, if I don’t ask him to marry me by this time next year, you have my permission to beat the sense back into me.”

“So the apology went well?” Jeff asked.

He pursed his lips and nodded, rocking back on his heels. “I made a fool of myself in front of the entire shop, too. For extra ‘apology’ points.”

Jeff tapped Eddie’s sternum. “Gave the man your lucky pick? Does he know what that means?”

“Does he know that it’s the most important object I own?” Eddie asked. “Yes. Does he know that it means I’m head over heels in love with him?” He raised his hand and waved it back it forth. “Ehhh...maybe?”

Mandy chuckled. “You are such an idiot, but that’s why we love you.”

The doorbell rang and Jeff went to go get it. He handed the guy a a ten dollar bill as a tip and closed the door.

Eddie pulled out a dinning table chair and flipped it around so that his back wasn’t pressed against anything as he ate.

He picked up a slice of pizza and began telling them about poor Steve’s horrible morning.

“I get that she like, lied,” Mandy said, “but it doesn’t change the fact that he was dating her because he thought she was eighteen.”

Eddie nodded. “Robin said she got a call back from the police, not only is Steve’s mom not paying for his bail or lawyer, but she served him with divorce papers, too.”

Jeff’s eyes went wide. “Dude fucked around and found out, man.”

Eddie smiled. “I never got why men would cheat on beautiful, successful women. Like what are you getting out of the side piece that you couldn’t get from your actual wife?”

“The thrill of cheating on a beautiful woman,” Mandy said. “It’s stupid, but some men just can’t go beyond their lizard brain.”

“I’m just sorry Stevie had to see that,” Eddie murmured. “He didn’t deserve to have his father come to his place of business and make an absolute ass of himself in front of his employees.”

Mandy nodded. “But you got to come to his rescue and trust me that will win you a shit ton of brownie points with the man.”

“And his friends and employees, too,” Jeff added around a bite of pizza. “Robin was already rooting for you two since day one, so use that. Let her help you get your man. Because it sounds like she’s more than willing. Especially after this morning.”

Eddie wavered.

Mandy put her elbows on her knees and leaned forwards. “Eddie, my love. You know I adore you. But you can’t keep expecting the next guy to come along is going to treat you the way Seth did.”

Eddie didn’t have a lot of exes but Seth was the worst and unfortunately the last. He was everything Eddie thought he wanted in a partner. Long blond hair, tattoos, piercings, long legs in tight leather. He was charming and funny. He started off a little clingy, and ended up full on possessive. He became jealous of the band. Of Mandy, even though Seth knew Eddie was gay.

Eddie cleared his throat and rubbed his bottom lip thoughtfully.

“I know.” He grabbed the back of the chair and yanked his arm straight, throwing himself back as far as he could without falling off the damn chair. “The man was a serial monogamist, and from what I remember back in school, all the girls would talk about what a romantic he was, how sweet and gentle he was with them.”

Jeff nodded, picking up the pizza boxes to throw them away. “He was too much of a romantic, the poor bastard,” he told Mandy. “Flowers because he thought his girlfriend would like them. Tell them that an hour was too long between meetings. Kiss them tenderly in the halls.”

“Which is great if you like that sort of thing,” Mandy concluded, “not so much if you don’t.”

Jeff and Eddie nodded.

“So even though it feels like you’re comparing apples to apples,” Jeff said to Eddie, “you’re comparing a rabbit to a hare. They might look the similar on the surface, but they are not even close to being the same.”

Eddie sighed again and tilted his head back. “Is Seth the hare in this scenario?”

Mandy laughed. “Yes, monster hell beast, Seth verses cute little bunny, Steve.”

Eddie huffed out a chuckle. Jeff tried to stifle his laugh, but he caught Eddie’s eye and they both burst out laughing. Soon they were all laughing about the image.

Mandy and Jeff came over and hugged him.

“Talk to Steve,” Jeff suggested. “Tell him what happened and how wounded Seth left you. I’m sure he’d understand.”

Eddie nodded. “Yeah. I’m seeing him on Thursday for day three of this bad boy,” he jerked a thumb at his back, “I’ll talk to him about it then.”

“Good,” Mandy said, rubbing her hands together. “Now, let’s make sure Stevie's artwork is protected.”

Eddie laughed and let them help him take care of his latest ink.

***

Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

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#stranger things #steddie #my writing #ladykailtiha writes #tattoo artist steve

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defectivevillain · 4 months

Text

this winding labyrinth

chapter 2: rebirth

pairing: Hannibal Lecter/Reader (reader is not gendered, race-ambiguous, and no physical descriptors are used)

summary:

You wish you never met Hannibal Lecter. But you yearn for his presence. You want to forget him. But he never truly leaves your thoughts. Now, you’re left to pick up the pieces of a broken design. A battle of instinct rages on in your mind—one of bittersweet relief and cloying grief, fearless resolve and poignant regret; a clashing between affection and antipathy, pride and pain. What will win, in the end? Only time will tell.

this is chapter 2, act 2 of this broken design. if you haven't read act 1 or chapter 1, this won't make too much sense.

ao3 version | Spotify playlist

warnings: canon-typical blood, gore, violence, death, animal death; nightmares, hallucinations, suicidal ideation, dry-heaving, hyperventilation, mental health issues.

You’re tired. Your hands are burning and your calluses sting. You don’t want to speak with your social worker, Clark Ingram. He was assigned to you after you sustained that traumatic brain injury from the horse. You know she didn’t mean it, know that Sylvie was just startled. That didn’t matter—no one listened to you. So here you are, sitting on a scratchy couch in a nondescript office, writhing with the indeterminable urge to do something.

“Peter,” Clark practically coos. You hate him, more than you’ve ever hated anyone before. He is a bundle of contradictions: a fine-dressed man with a fine-dressed smile and fine-dressed lies. “Why don’t you tell me what happened?”

You grit your teeth and keep silent. Time drags on, immune to your internal conflict.

“Is this about the horse?” Clark asks persistently.

“Her name was Sylvie,” you feel the need to supplement.

“Sylvie, then,” Clark corrects himself. You know he doesn’t really care, and that is perhaps the biggest offense of all. Why bother saying something if it isn’t genuine? You’ve always had a problem with faux politeness and socially-mandated compassion. You want to skip the pleasantries. Besides, this isn’t about Sylvie. But it is. But it isn’t. But it is. But it isn’t- but it is- but it isn’t-

“It’s alright,” Clark continues, momentarily breaking through the static in your mind. “I understand,”

“You do?” You ask suspiciously. You don’t believe him.

“I understand completely,” Clark nods wisely. What he says next tears the rug from under your feet. “You placed a bird in Sarah Craber’s chest, and then put her body in Sylvie’s womb.” You’re taken with an indescribable urge to tear him apart. “You killed Sarah Craber.”

“No, I didn’t,” you immediately respond. You feel a hysterical laugh bubbling up your throat, clawing at your lips and threatening to escape.

“You killed her,” Clark asserts. You know something about this conversation is horribly wrong, know that a therapist shouldn’t be convincing you that you did something. Still, what is there to do? You’re required to attend these sessions, required to meet this monster’s gaze and play pretend until you’re exhausted.

“I didn’t kill her!” You hiss venomously. The air around you almost seems to steam. “She was already dead when I found her!” The atmosphere feels terribly stifling. The walls are tunneling in on you, curving to consume you whole.

“It’s okay, Peter,” Clark says, his voice soft as if he’s trying not to spook you. This realization only angers you further. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“I didn’t kill her- ” You break off, clarity striking you. There’s a reason Clark is so desperate to paint you as the killer when you’re not. Clark Ingram is the killer those FBI agents are looking for. Clark Ingram killed Sarah Craber and so many more. Is he even a social worker? You suppose he really could be—Hannibal Lecter was a practicing psychiatrist and doctor despite being the Chesapeake Ripper. You saw his name all over the news, coupled with that FBI agent you spoke to the other day who offered you a phone number and a compassionate, patient smile. You think back to the times Clark Ingram has sent alarm bells blaring in your mind—the cruelty disguised by that sharp glint in his eyes, the dangerous gaze that you had always mistaken for an attentive one.

You want to tell someone, want to run from the room and never stop running, until you’re speaking to Jack Crawford and the same agent as before. You desperately want to stand up, fabricate an excuse to cut the appointment short. But one acknowledgement triumphs over all these desires: no one will believe you. There isn’t a damn soul who has taken you seriously since your brain injury, and your memories of life before then are all an incomprehensible blur. You can already imagine walking into the Bureau—if you can even get past security—speaking to Crawford, watching his eyes squint before he lets out a loud laugh right in your face.

You stare at your social worker. Clark Ingram stares back. For a while, there is nothing but silence.

Until something in you snaps. You don’t know what happens in the span of those few seconds. One moment, you’re glancing at the tableside lamp. You envision yourself grabbing at the lamp and striking Ingram over the head with it, knocking him to the floor in a heap. The next moment, you’re holding the shattered remains of the lamp in your left hand as you stand over Clark’s crumpled body.

You’re not usually this reckless. You’ve never harmed a soul before—human or animal. You’ve always considered yourself a withdrawn person, perhaps even meek. Yet here you are, looming over your unconscious social worker as blood slowly trickles from the gash on the side of his head. Thankfully, it looks like he’s still breathing. You don’t know what you would have done with a dead body. An unconscious one, on the other hand, is a different story.

After some contemplation, you reach down and grab Ingram’s ankles. You drag him out of the office, taking brief satisfaction from the various bumps and collisions his head makes with the furniture and the doorframe. You must have some good karma, because there isn’t a single soul in the deserted office building. You bring Ingram’s body out to your car and throw him in the trunk. He doesn’t deserve anything more than that, you think. In fact, you have an idea for something that would even the scales.

As you pull into the driveway, your plan begins to take shape. You carry Ingram into the stable, your muscle memory taking you to the stall that Sylvie inhabited just a few days ago. You want to be angry, but you have bigger, more important things to focus on. You take a deep breath and crouch down to place a hand on her chest.

Some time later, the deed is done. Blood is speckled across your hands. You briefly feel guilty—not for Ingram, but for Sylvie. The overarching sentiment running through your chest and crawling along your skin, however, is satisfaction. You take a moment to look at your vindictive masterpiece once more, before turning your back.

With shaking hands, you reach into your pocket and pull out the scrap of paper that the FBI agent wrote the phone number on. For a long moment, you stare down at it. Are the agents really to be trusted? Should you keep this information about Ingram to yourself? You shake your head and pull out your phone, typing in the numbers with care. For a moment, the phone rings and rings.

“Hello?” A familiar voice answers the phone. “Who is this?”

You take a deep breath to steel your nerves, before responding. “Peter,” you answer habitually, before realizing you likely need to clarify. You think you hear a hitch of breath on the other end of the call, but you put it down to your imagination. “Peter Bernardone.” You clarify.

There’s a few beats of silence. When the voice returns, it is laid with caution. “Hello, Peter.”

Soil traps you and locks your limbs, sticking to your skin and refusing to let its presence fade. Every fiber of your being seems to twitch in restlessness and your heart races in your ears. You swear you feel something wiggling on your arm—perhaps a worm. The thought revolts you and you writhe in your natural prison. Dirt kisses your lips, pressing a gentle hand to your forehead and enforcing the insurmountable distance between you and the sunlight. The darkness is not welcome—it is too cold, too damp, too hollow. You blink and there’s a horrible cascading sound. Suddenly, it feels as if you aren’t alone. Your hands continue to twitch and you recoil when you bump against something distinctly humanlike. Turning your head to the side, you come face-to-face with the corpse of Sarah Craber. She opens her mouth and a bird crawls up her throat, wrenching its way out of her mouth and bursting toward you in a yellow blur.

You inhale in a shuddering gasp and quickly sit up, sweat rolling down the back of your neck as you’re suddenly brought back to your bedroom. You had a nightmare. It was just a nightmare, you repeat to yourself as you wash your hands clean of the unseen dirt. You regard yourself in the bathroom mirror, displeased by what you see. Dark circles bracket your dull eyes. There’s a mark on your face from your pillow. Your scar gleams tauntingly from its position on the left side of your face—Abel Gideon’s farewell gift to you. It had been healing, until the Chesapeake Ripper lived up to his namesake and sliced it right open again.

You rub a hand over your face and briefly rub your eyes, before pacing out of the bathroom and getting back into bed. As you stare up at your ceiling and will yourself to fall asleep, the killer’s graveyard haunts your waking mind. You can’t help but think of the victims that were buried underneath uncompromising soil, never to breathe again. Jack had warned you to brace yourself, before you came upon the scene. You thought you had.

Your conversation with Peter the other day weighs heavily on your waking mind, from the moment you wake up in the morning to the moment you sit down in your office. There’s something off about it, but you can’t figure out what it is. He didn’t seem interested in providing you information. Yet, when Jack interrupted and said he had a lead, Peter almost morphed into a different person. He didn’t avoid your eye contact and his voice sounded noticeably brighter than before. You think back to that specific interaction.

“Sorry, Peter,” you had apologized, “I have to go.”

“What is it?” Peter asked, turning towards you for the first time in the conversation. “Did you find him?”

“It’s classified, I’m sorry,” you responded. Your hackles had risen there, for reasons you hadn’t been sure of. “But we’re tracking down this killer. I promise he’ll be put away.”

Why does that exchange seem more significant now?

“What is it?” Peter had asked. “Did you find him?”

“Did you find him?”

Peter knew the killer was male.

Normally, that wouldn’t be cause for suspicion. In your experience, men are more likely to commit crimes than others. However, Peter’s statement was spoken with a frightening amount of certainty—despite the lack of veritable proof. That begs the question: how did Peter know? Does he know who the killer is?

You want to speak to Peter again, but Jack doesn’t seem to think Peter needs any further investigation. You know better, but without Jack’s approval, you’re doomed to your office. You have to simper in frustration. Somehow, you’re sure that Peter knows more than he’s letting on. You hardly got anything out of him last time. Typically, when people are so resistant to questioning, it’s because they’re hiding something. You just need to figure out what Peter is hiding.

Your phone rings, cutting you out of your thoughts. Could it be Peter? You highly doubt it, but you decide to answer the phone regardless.

“Hello,” you respond, “Who is this?”

“Peter,” the caller responds. Their voice sounds familiar. You feel an ugly feeling slide up your skin. “Peter Bernardone.”

Your eyes widen. You look around your office, before getting to your feet and shutting your door. You return to your desk and try to rip the words from your throat. “Hello, Peter.”

“Hello,” he responds. He sounds different than before. Perhaps it’s because you’re hearing him speak. He didn’t speak very much last time. Despite the casual nature of the conversation so far, there seems to be anticipation and tension in his voice.

“...Did you need something?” You decide to ask. It really seems like Peter called for a reason. You know you told him that he could call to speak to you again, but you aren’t so foolish to assume he’s calling because of that.

“I…” He breaks off, sounding hesitant. The line goes silent for a few seconds, but the time passes with infinite lethargy. All you can hear are your steady breaths, the sound of your pen as you tap it against your desk, and the clock ticking on the wall. You can hear distant voices in the hall and you’re grateful that you had the foresight to close your door. “I think I’m ready to have another conversation.”

“Excellent,” you remark. You wonder if relief is evident in your voice. It probably is—Jack and you are desperate for any new leads on this killer. The last thing you want is for him to kill again and, as of right now, you don’t have much information to determine his whereabouts or his next move. “How does…” You trail off as you glance at your clock. “... an hour from now work for you?”

“That works,” Peter responds. He sounds like he’s had enough of the conversation. You don’t necessarily blame him for being apprehensive about speaking to a federal agent. If you were in his position, you’d certainly be distrustful.

“Great, see you then,” you answer, giving him an out. He takes it and murmurs a goodbye, before the line goes dead. For a moment, you sit at your desk, your mind reeling. While you had provided your phone number to Peter for that express purpose, you hadn’t expected him to actually take you up on the offer to divulge more information.

An equal rush of adrenaline and trepidation runs through you. The adrenaline wins out, as you get to your feet and pace over to Jack’s office. It isn’t a long distance, and you soon find yourself opening his office door.

“Jack,” you start. Your boss looks up from his computer. “Peter called.”

“What?” He asks.

“Peter called my extension,” you elaborate, before you can grasp the consequences of doing so. In hindsight, perhaps you shouldn’t be admitting to sharing your agency-assigned phone number with a member of the public. Perhaps that’s why Jack’s eyes go so wide.

“What?” Jack hisses. He looks like he’ll burst a vein in his neck. “Agent, that number is confidential and should only be shared with other government employees and officials.”

“Never mind that, Jack,” you interject before he can continue scolding you. That’s not important—at least, not right now. You’re sure you’ll have to sit through a lengthy lecture later on, when you have the luxury to sit down and think about trivialities. “He said he was ready to have another conversation.”

Jack stills. He knows how important another conversation could be, but he seems to be battling against the instinct to reprimand you. You stare at him and, after a few moments, he sighs. Jack looks up from his glasses, which are gradually slipping down his face. “You’re not going to get anything more from him,” he says resignedly. You rejoice internally. That remark is a sign that, although he isn’t happy about it, Jack will permit you to speak with Peter.

“I think I’ll get something from him,” you assert. You don’t think you’ll get more information—you know you will. Peter wouldn’t be calling unless he were willing, in some regard, to give you something. You’ll take almost anything at this point—anything that will free you from the muddied cages of damp soil and suffocation that haunt your nightmares.

“Fine,” Jack sighs, knowing there’s no point for further argument. He certainly doesn’t look amused, but he seems to have given up now. “Read over his file before you go.” Jack goes into his desk and retrieves the file, which you take with a murmured thanks.

In the coming minutes, you learn more about Peter Bernardone than you could have ever hoped to know. The most useful piece of information doesn’t concern Peter, though. You look down at his listed social worker, frowning at the picture. The man looks innocuous enough upon first glance. Ingram is just about the only other person mentioned in Peter’s file, aside from a sibling that hasn’t been in contact with Peter for several years. Has this social worker, Clark Ingram, been brought in?

“Did you speak to Clark Ingram?” You ask. Jack’s gaze is fixated on his computer. For a moment, you contemplate asking again, but then he responds.

“We spoke to him for a bit, but didn't come back with anything.” Jack responds. He doesn’t look persuaded, and you don’t think you’re convinced either. There’s something about the look in Ingram’s eyes in the photo… It looks as if there’s a hidden depth beneath that expression on his face, something he isn’t telling anyone. Indeed, he looks ever so slightly smug.

“Might have to pay him a visit,” you remark. Maybe you can do that after you speak with Peter. Your best lead right now is definitely Peter, but Ingram may be a good backup plan in case Peter clams up or suddenly decides to remain silent. Jack seems to think the same, because he nods silently. Armed with information, you send Jack a mock-salute and leave his office. As you walk through the Bureau’s halls and return to your car, you think about everything that has made up the case against this killer so far. You review evidence, circumstances, and backgrounds on the victims as you drive to the stable Peter works at. He hadn’t specified a location for your conversation, you’re realizing as you continue driving. If he isn’t here, you’re going to be in for an earful from Jack. You’re willing to take that risk, though.

Some time later, you pull into the parking lot next to an unassuming SUV and park. You steal a few seconds to take some deep breaths as you wait in your car. Your hand is wrapped around your keys and you close your eyes, tilting your head down and trying to remember why you’ve come here. You’re not recalling your purpose for the visit, but instead, the purpose behind your decision to pursue a career as an FBI agent. You wanted to make a difference. You’re getting that chance right now, and you can’t blow it. Your shoulders almost feel tight from the intangible pressure that has been thrown onto you. Thankfully, you’ve grown to be comfortable working under pressure. The life of an FBI agent isn’t convenient or relaxed—the pacing of your work is extremely sporadic, and you’re expected to be “on” and ready at all times.

Shaking your head, you step out of your car and walk up the dirt path to the stable. When you open the doors, you’re unsurprised to find a rider with her horse. You nod at her as you walk in, pretending not to notice how her gaze burns into your back when you pass her. Somehow, you know where Peter will be. You pass several different stalls, before reaching the one he was in a mere few days ago. The plaque on the stall says “Sylvie,” which must’ve been the horse’s name. You knock on the closed stable door and, after a few moments, decide to open it.

Peter is in nearly the same exact position as before, with his back turned to the door and his eyes evidently fixated on the horse’s corpse.

“Hello, Peter,” you remark. Peter doesn’t respond. You give him a few moments, before taking a few steps forward to break the distance between you. With your newfound position, you’re able to see his expression. To your surprise, the look on his face is slightly… different than the last time you saw him. Before, he had looked devastated, heartbroken, destroyed. Now, he almost looks… at peace. How could he have pivoted so intensely in such a short period of time? Something about his disposition unsettles you. “You wanted to speak with me.” You remind him.

For a long moment, there is nothing but silence and anticipation. Then, Peter speaks. “I… wanted to heal her.”

“You… wanted to heal her,” you repeat. What or who did he want to heal? Your initial reaction is that he wanted to heal Sylvie, but that doesn't sound right. She was already dead by the time Peter arrived, so anything he could’ve done would’ve been pointless. Is he referring to… the victim? “Sarah Craber?” You ask.

“Yes,” he responds hollowly. His gaze is still locked on the horse’s corpse.

Somehow, it’s taken you this long to realize that you’ve underestimated Peter’s role in the events that transpired that day. “You were the one to put the bird in her chest,” you realize aloud. Yellow fluttering wings rush across your vision. Peter nods quietly. You’re not surprised. You should’ve made the connection sooner—should’ve thought of the bird as a gesture made out of kindness, not maleficence.

You’re sidetracked by the strange conviction that something in this stall has changed since the last time you were here. You try to rack your brain for the juxtaposition that is occupying your attention. Peter is here still, wearing similar attire and lingering in about the same position as before. There’s you, standing a bit closer than you were last time. There’s still hay strewn about the floor. The horse’s corpse remains against the wall, and the stench is beginning to grow more pervasive. The corpse looks the same, with the womb stitched up and the entrails hidden from sight.

Hidden from sight? You take another look at the corpse. Last time you were here, the horse’s womb was exposed and the entrails were everywhere. Now, there’s no sign of blood or innards. Indeed, the stall’s floor is missing any sign of the gruesome scene from before. It’s not unthinkable to think that someone could have cleaned it up, but the horse’s womb looks entirely different. In fact, it almost looks as if someone stitched it back together. There’s no sign of the dead foal, but you suspect it was placed back in the womb.

“Peter, did someone come through here and stitch her womb back together?” You ask.

“I don’t know.” Peter answers. It’s a lie. You can tell from the way his posture shifts, his shoulders falling ever so slightly as he almost seems to cower in on himself to avoid your gaze.

“Did you sew her back up, Peter?” You question. Peter stiffens and you realize you may have worded your statement indelicately. You scramble to find a better way to say it. “Did… did you heal her?”

This prompts Peter’s attention. The man turns around, staring at you with wide eyes. His eyes look ever so slightly glassy and he stares at you for several moments, before jerking his head in a slight and nearly imperceptible nod.

“Thank you for being honest with me,” you choke out. Your heart is still racing in your chest, despite Peter’s confession. Why are you still so unsettled and unnerved? The mystery surrounding the corpse has been cleared up. But it still feels as if something is missing. What could it be?

“You’re not… angry?” Peter then asks quietly. You blink at him.

“I’m not angry, Peter.” You reassure him. He seems to believe you once you utter the statement, and you watch as a little bit of the tension slips from his shoulders. There is still something that is bothering him, you think. “Now, why did you call me here?”

“I… wanted to ask about my social worker,” Peter trails off. His back is turned again. Maybe he doesn’t like the idea of having a social worker. Maybe he’s uncomfortable talking about it. Amidst your speculation, one thing is for certain: this is a sore spot for him.

“Clark Ingram?” You question. “What about him?”

“Has he been called in for questioning?” Peter remarks.

You probably shouldn’t be telling him anything, but you know that this needs to be an exchange in order for Peter to feel comfortable sharing information with you. Sometimes, you have to give a little to get a little. “Yes,” you say. You decide to leave it at that and wait for Peter to clarify.

“I think he… may have a role in all this,” Peter evidently settles for saying. He sounds hesitant.

“How come?”

“There’s something off…” Peter begins, “in his eyes. The way he speaks to me, looks at me. Sometimes, he stares at me like…” He breaks off. Like you’re a test subject? Like you’re an intriguing new science experiment? Like you hold the very world in your hands? “I’m probably not making much sense,” Peter suddenly acquiesces, rubbing a hand over his face. He seems self-conscious and anxious all of a sudden. If this continues, he won't be comfortable sharing any more information with you. You need to express that you understand him. And if a smaller part of you truly does empathize with him, empathize with being treated as an oddity… no one needs to know.

“No, I know what you’re talking about.” You say. Peter turns and looks at you.

“Really?”

“......Yes,” you remark. It takes you a little while to force the words out. You don’t speak on any of your thoughts, don’t want to monopolize the conversation or change the subject. Still, you are familiar with an attentive gaze that penetrates your mental defenses, leaving you uncomfortably vulnerable and raw in its wake. You are more than familiar with the shadows that beckon you closer, calling for you to do unspeakable things to the chessmaster sitting across from you in a dimly-lit office.

“I just came from a session with him,” Peter continues, breaking you out of your thoughts. He doesn’t offer any further explanation.

“Ingram? How’d it go?” You ask. Peter shakes his head wordlessly. This session lies at the center of Peter’s current stress. The interaction must’ve gone quite poorly indeed, because Peter goes silent.

“Peter, are you alright?” Peter shakes his head, although you can’t quite tell if he’s answering your question or trying to shake off a phantom grip.

“He was questioning me. About Craber. Saying I did it.” The confession stews in the muggy air of the stable. The rotting corpse reaches your nostrils, but even that undesirable stench isn’t enough to draw your attention away from what Peter just said.

“Ingram was accusing you of her murder?” You press.

“Manipulating me,” Peter says, picking at his lip. “Trying to get me to confess for something I didn’t do.”

“That’s-” You try to say, but it seems Peter isn’t finished speaking.

“I- I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I didn’t have a choice. And- I didn’t know how to handle the feeling.” Peter looks down at his clasped hands.

“What feeling?” You’ve never heard your voice sound so quiet before.

“Anger,” Peter responds, averting his eyes. His gaze is locked on the corner of the room. You take a step closer, then another. You take a deep breath and kneel down next to Peter, in front of the horse’s corpse. Suddenly, lightning flashes in your mind as you come to a realization.

You thought Peter’s grief explained his current positioning—the way he’s sitting in front of Sylvie’s body. That was your prevailing reasoning. You know that’s wrong now. Peter isn’t watching over Sylvie to grieve for her or comfort her. He’s guarding her.

Why would Peter be guarding the corpse? There shouldn’t be anything there, save for the horse foal that he must’ve sewed back into the womb. But no, that hasn’t been confirmed yet. You don’t know what’s in the horse’s womb. If it were the foal, you suspect Peter wouldn’t be guarding the body. No, there’s something else. Peter put something in the womb and sewed it up to hide it. But what could it be?

Peter placed the bird in the victim’s chest and placed the victim in the horse’s chest to heal her. This seems different. This time, whatever—whoever—he placed inside the horse’s womb was placed there as Peter tried to cope with his anger. This reconstruction was fueled by anger: anger at the injustice of the crime, anger at the thought of being accused of being the killer. Who was that anger aimed at? Where did Peter’s anger come from? “I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. I felt like I had no choice… He was manipulating me.”

Clark Ingram provoked Peter. Ingram was poking and prodding at him, trying to get him to confess to his role as the killer. What would Ingram gain from that? Ingram was only mentioned in Peter’s file as a social worker; they didn’t know each other prior to Ingram’s assignment. Ingram didn’t have a vendetta against Peter. No. Clark Ingram was desperate to get Peter convicted as the killer. Because…. Because…

Clark Ingram is the killer. He tried to get Peter convicted in order to save himself. Shaking, you kneel down to the horse’s womb and press a hand to its belly. The dead foal isn’t in there—you remember it being smaller. You know what Sylvie’s womb is holding now.

“Peter…” You remark. Your voice sounds foreign to your ears—eerily calm despite your heart thundering away in your chest. You’re choking on the words. You don’t want to speak, don’t want to cement the reality that you’re so afraid of. “Is your social worker in that horse?”

Peter’s back is turned. He doesn’t respond for a horrible amount of time. You bite the inside of your cheek and try to maintain a sense of composure that you certainly don’t feel. A minute passes. Then another. Then another. When Peter responds, his voice is a murmur. “Yes.”

You inhale sharply. Peter placed Ingram in the horse’s womb. He must’ve incapacitated him during their session, before bringing him back here to this stall. From there, Peter maneuvered Ingram’s body into a fetal position, before placing him in the corpse. Then, he placed the entrails and innards back in the womb, before sealing it all up again. You take a shuddering breath in, the act feeling more laborious than normal. Now that you’re kneeling next to Peter, you realize that his hands have been clasped in his lap throughout your conversation. There are muddy brown stains on the insides of his palms—dried blood.

You don’t know how long you remain silent, staring at the corpse in front of you. Did Peter kill Ingram? You’re not sure you want to know. All you know is that, when you finally summon the courage to speak, Peter is spooked by the noise. “Will you remove him, please?” You ask.

Peter stares at the corpse, then turns to you. He nods silently, almost imperceptibly. You pull out your gun and hold it at your side, watching as Peter slowly slices his knife along the horse’s stomach and traces the incision that he created. After a few moments, he gets to his feet and steps away. For an awful beat, there is nothing but silent anticipation. The quiet is broken by a loud gasp as the horse’s stomach pulses and eventually falls away to reveal Clark Ingram, covered in blood and entrails and panting as he returns to the open air. Ingram turns his head up and finds Peter before you; his expression soon morphs into manic rage. You quickly point your gun at Ingram and cock it, drawing his attention away from Peter. Ingram’s eyes meet yours and, immediately, a pendulum swings before your eyes. Clark Ingram murdered all those women and buried them beneath the ground. That momentary glance was all you needed to confirm your suspicions. Even now, as you look at him, you have to fight off the pendulum’s grip. You blink and you see yourself carrying a dead body, digging a hole on the earth to dump it. You blink again and you feel your hands shaking, writhing as you look at your next victim from afar.

“Please,” Ingram begs. Old blood soaks through his clothing and colors his skin. “It’s not me.”

You shake your head. The lie is half-baked and falls apart the moment it reaches the air. Ingram knows it too, if the positively malicious glare he sends Peter is any indication. You keep your aim steady and fixed on Ingram. Your finger twitches to pull the trigger. You grit your teeth and try to pull yourself out of the horrible compulsion to make this man hurt, the way he made those women hurt.

Ingram stares at you with a truly pitiful expression, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “Please,” he says again. You consider him for a moment. He has robbed many people of their futures. This man does not deserve to continue living, even if that life is confined to a prison cell.

You’ve dealt with criminals like this before: maleficent individuals that deserve a punishment far worse than what they’re getting. This is far from the first killer that you’ve had to confine to a prison cell, despite knowing they deserve the gallows. It’s one of the most frustrating, yet necessary, components of your position. You had never fought with the notion before. Today, though, you’re grappling with the thought. Does Clark Ingram even deserve to keep living? What divine force determined that he was worthy of living, while all his victims weren’t? Hannibal’s voice whispers in your ears, reminding you of God and his violence and cruelty. If God kills, why can’t you? Your head aches. Your hand is growing sweaty and your fingers are twitching. Ingram must sense that you’re approaching the brink of your patience, because his pleas turn louder and more pronounced.

You’re drowning in a maelstrom of memories.

“See?” Garret Jacob Hobbs croons.

“This work… it changes you.” Jack remarks, just as he said to you all those years ago.

“The killer in the flesh,” Dr. Frederick Chilton greets you, his teeth sharpening and glinting in the light.

“You killed Franklyn Froideveaux,” Zeller accuses.

“In your dreams, what do you see?” Hannibal had once asked you.

“I see myself killing Hobbs, over and over and over again,” you had responded. “I see Abigail slowly fading on that kitchen floor. I see the blood spattered on my hands. And… I feel a smile on my face.”

“ And, when you wake up?” Hannibal asked. “Dreams are often a pathway into the parts of our minds that we hide away from others. Perhaps there is some truth in these dreams. Perhaps, what you’re most afraid of…”

“I don’t feel guilty,” you admitted. “Killing… felt good.”

You blink hard and tilt your head, trying to shake the thoughts away. They return in full force. A shadowed figure stands at your side, guiding your aim to Ingram’s temple. The Chesapeake Ripper smiles at you, a cruel grin that rips the veiled darkness surrounding his form.

Someone is yelling your name and their voice reverberates through your skull. You clap your free hand over your ear in an effort to silence the sudden onslaught of noise. Everything is growing to be too much. Voices are beckoning you, peering over your shoulder and regarding Ingram with malice. You open your eyes. Your hand twitches again.

You don’t resist the movement, instead letting your restless impulse— your killer impulse —take over. You fire your gun. The bullet carves through the air in slow-motion, before settling in Ingram’s temple and carving into his skull. Blood splatters everywhere: over the ground, down the killer’s skin, across your face. You wipe the blood from your eyes.

You stare ahead. Clark Ingram lies crumpled on the ground, the light fading from his eyes. He manages a weak groan, before his eyes promptly fall shut. You stand frozen in front of him. There’s a ringing noise in your ears. The pendulum from before has shifted into a metronome, swinging back and forth. A hollow echo resounds in rhythm as you stare at your first true victim. You’re shaking, trembling, shivering. Your gun slips from your hand, falls to the hay-filled floor with a thud.

What have you done?

Ingram isn’t just a victim, now. He’s your victim. This is truly your design. Everything fell into place the moment you raised your hand and aimed at Ingram’s temple. You can hear his voice echoing in your mind, begging and pleading with you to spare his life. Please. You bring a hand to your head, the pulsing sensation nearly enough to bring you off your feet. Please. Blood is trickling from his temple, falling down the man’s face in crimson tears. Please. You can hear an achingly familiar laugh, a whisper of the cunning wit you haven’t heard in years. Please-

You put your hands over your ears and fall down to a kneeling position on the ground, desperate for a reprieve from your thoughts and the guilt and the vindictive feeling powerful enough to send flames roaring up your skin-

It’s hard to breathe. You feel yourself dry heaving over the hay-covered floor and, when you blink, you’re kneeling in puddles of Ingram’s blood. You try to inhale slowly, but your breath is hard to acquire and your chest burns with the effort. Saliva slips from the side of your lips as you try to recover from the fear, regret, rage, revulsion, pride that settles over your form. You look at Ingram again, take a deep breath. Wipe off your mouth. Take another breath. Slowly get to your feet. Walk over to him. Check for a pulse.

He’s dead.

What should you do? You could turn yourself in and lose your job, potentially facing prison time. You could try to dress up the crime scene, make it seem like a suicide. That would be incredibly difficult to do without indicting Peter and making him a potential suspect. Furthermore, it’s somewhat implausible to think that Ingram would shoot himself after escaping the horse’s womb, rather than trying to wound his enemy. He had no qualms about sourcing his victims, and likely engaged in combat to do so. You feel your breathing quicken as you are forced to come to terms with the reality of the situation. It feels as if the world is caving in. Rationality is giving way to the emotions that suffocate you.

Distantly, amidst it all, you can recognize that there’s one more option. You never would have considered it before— before him, a traitorous voice whispers in the back of your mind. (It sounds like Franklyn.) However, you truly feel as if you have no better choice. And if a part of you wishes to make things even once more, to harm the criminal who ruthlessly killed Ingram in cold blood….

You take a deep breath. “Peter,” you say calmly. Your voice sounds unnaturally tranquil. “I need you to do something for me.” Peter looks at you quizzically. “Walk out of the stable. Go back inside and… don’t come back out until you hear me.” Peter stares at you for a long moment. He is startled. There are flecks of blood on his cheeks. Through the emotional whiplash of what you’ve done, remorse and guilt briefly prevail as you realize that you shouldn’t have gotten Peter involved in this. Thankfully, what you’re asking of him provides him an alibi for what will come next.

“How will I know when you…?” Peter breaks off, staring at you in confusion.

“Can I trust you to do that for me?” You interject. The sincerity in your voice seems to unnerve him.

“Yes,” Peter responds with a perplexed but resolute nod. “Yes, I- Okay.” He takes one last look at the corpse in front of you, before turning around and heading for the exit of the stable.

You wait a few moments, until you’re sure that you’ve given him enough time to return to the farmhouse. You’re compelled to look down at your gun on the stable floor. It’s not the preferred weapon right now. You instead reach and grab the knife at your belt, turning it over in your hands. The metal gleams at you tauntingly. For a moment, you can see blood spilling from it. It must be a trick of the light.

You take a step closer to Ingram’s corpse. And… another one. You’re nearly standing over the body now. Your fingers feel stuck to the knife, a frozen grip forcing you to wield the weapon. You shouldn’t be doing this. But you have to pay for what you’ve done.

You close your eyes and reach up, knife in hand.

For a moment, your hand hovers in the air and you contemplate going back.

It’s a foolish thought. You can never go back to the way things were.

Your aim rings true, and the blade sinks into your forearm. You scream.

Through the pain shooting up your arm, you manage to shakily push yourself a bit further, reaching out with your uninjured hand to grab at Ingram’s hand. From there, you manipulate his fingers so that he’s gripping the knife. You make sure to close his hand around the blade, before taking a deep breath through your teeth.

There’s a chance you won’t survive this.

You can’t find it in yourself to care.

You pull the knife out with the corpse’s hand and let out an uneasy groan as pain floods through your arm. Your vision spirals, blackening around the edges and spinning in a dizzying array of colors. You feel like a marionette with limp strings, left to crumple to the ground without a puppet master. The last thing you see before your world fades to black is the neat hole carving a path straight through Ingram’s temple.

next chapter

Just in case I didn’t make it clear enough, the reader stabs himself & wipes off the prints/places the knife in the grip of the corpse. This creates a situation where it appears as if Clark stabbed the reader before he killed Clark. (Of course, the reality of the situation is that the reader killed Clark first, which he wasn’t supposed to do). By stabbing himself, he covers his tracks because he can claim that the murder was in “self-defense” and “after provocation.” It’s a little flimsy, and I’m no forensic expert, but remember that this is fiction. I can do whatever I want here. *grins*

You may be thinking: Hey, Hero (that's me)… couldn’t a stab wound like that be lethal? And the answer is… probably? I did some research to try to figure out the practicality of stabbing yourself and surviving, but it ended up triggering me so I had to stop searching.

Rationalization for Peter and his actions: Peter fades to the background once Ingram comes out of the womb because the reader is armed and serves as a blockade between Ingram and him. Peter is lurking somewhere behind you throughout the interaction, to protect himself from Ingram. Keep in mind that he is an entirely unarmed civilian, so there’s little that he could do to affect the outcome. ||| Peter does what the reader asks of him because he trusts him. Few people have ever taken the time to understand Peter, so the fact that the reader went out of his way to make him feel comfortable (such as not forcing him to talk or make eye contact) influences Peter’s view of him. Plus, Peter didn’t like Ingram. That much is obvious. Ingram’s death is not really a tragic affair for Peter. Finally, Peter was confused and searching for guidance in the chaos of the situation. So, when the reader gave him something to do, Peter jumped at the chance—in the hopes of either distracting himself or gaining clarity. ||| If I’m being perfectly honest, I don’t quite remember Peter’s canonical personality, so I sort of just… went with my gut. My gut ended up writing him to be autistic, because I’m autistic and what little I remember of him seemed to fit.

The reader’s motivations for killing Ingram could be justice, Hannibal’s influence, the cruelty of Ingram’s crimes, hallucinations… or any combination. Your pick. And don’t worry, the reader isn’t going to suddenly transform into a killing machine—this was very much an isolated incident. (..or was it? jk.) This protagonist’s morality is dubious, so that this fic can be distinguished from the TV show. I also wanted him to be darker, so sue me.

Here’s a scrap from this chapter that never made it. I like it too much to let it die out in my doc:

Idly, you imagine what Hannibal would do if he were here. He’d place a hand on yours, slowly push your weapon down until it was pointed at the ground. Perhaps he’d even slip a hand under your jaw, prompt you to look at him as he smiles that infuriating smile—the one with an equal amount of unearned pride and cunning. It doesn’t matter, you have to remind yourself. Hannibal isn’t here. No one is here—not Jack, not Beverly, not Alana. There is no one here to stop you from crossing a line you won’t be able to come back from.

As always, thank you so so much for reading! I will see you all in the new year! Wishing each of you a refreshing and relaxing start to the new year! ily <3

TAGLIST: @its-ares @tobbotobbs @xrisdoesntexist @gr1mmac3 @tiredstarcerberuslamb @yourlocalratwriter @kingkoku @kahuunknown @atlas-king1 @pendragon-writes @slipknotcentury @cryinersaved @the-ultimate-librarian @starre-eyes @pendragon-writes @peterparkeeperer @gayschlatt69

#defectivevillain #male reader #x male reader #x gn reader #gn reader #hannibal x reader #Hannibal Lecter x male reader #Hannibal Lecter x gn reader #Hannibal Lecter x reader #hannibal x male reader #hannibal x gn reader #transmasc reader #masc reader

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lancermylove · 4 months

Text

Chapter 2 (N.SFW)

➣ Pairing: Demon brothers, Royals, Solomon with fem!Reader. ➣ Warning: N.SFW ➣ Word Count: 2,868 ➣ Chapters [SFW]: [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12] ➣ Chapters [N.SFW]: [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12]

➣ A/N: The poll is still open, but looking at the percentage difference, most of you want a little spice to the story. The SFW version will have two routes: platonic and romantic. The N.SFW version will only be romantic, but the remaining story is the same for both versions. The SFW version is here.

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The first two days in the cabin were lively as the brothers explored the area nearby and enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere. All the while, Lucifer remained secluded in his room, occasionally venturing to the kitchen to get food. However, on the third day, they began to regret accepting your offer to stay in a secluded cabin. Though there was a large town several miles away, Lucifer had strictly restricted them from going to town, especially without your presence. The Avatar of Pride didn't want his brothers to cause chaos, let alone in the Human Realm.

Belphie lay on the couch, snuggled in a cream-colored faux fur throw. He was dozing off with his head on Beel's lap, who was busy munching on sweets, trying not to drop any crumbs on his twin's head. Mammon sunk further into a gray sofa chair, his eyes dully staring out the ceiling-height glass windows overlooking the mountain range. Satan sat by the fireplace and read a book about Christmas traditions in the human world. Asmo stood by the windows, posing and clicking selfies to share on Devilgram once he returned home. Levi had his face buried in his cell phone as he tried to figure out how to play a game you recommended.

You walked downstairs, wearing a white and blue unicorn onesie, but stopped when you saw the state of the living room. Were they bored already? It was only the third day, and they had to spend the entire month of December in the cabin. You felt a presence behind you and tilted your head back to find Lucifer studying his brothers with a lack of emotion on his visage. His piercing vermillion eyes shifted to you as if waiting for you to devise a solution to the crisis and find some entertainment for them.

'Why me?' You thought, looking back at the brothers. 'Is Lucifer punishing me for something?'

As you cautiously walked downstairs, you felt a sense of unease due to the tightly coiled structure of the staircase. You glanced casually at Satan and noticed the book in his hands. That's it! The entire reason you were there was to experience the way humans celebrated the month of December. You stood before the demons with a broad smile on your pink gloss-coated lips and excitedly announced your plan. "We don't need to wait for Christmas to do anything fun. We will celebrate the holidays traditionally, with decorations and all!"

Satan was the first to look at you and seemed happy about the idea, while the remainder of the brothers stared at you curiously, wondering what you had in mind.

"We need to...decorate the cabin's interior and exterior and need a Christmas tree. So someone to decorate, shop, pick a tree, and...oh, sweaters!" You said, laying your plan out. Your eyes briefly moved to Lucifer to see if he had any objections, but the eldest brother stared at you with his arms folded across his chest. Taking this as a sign of approval, you explained the rest of your plan in one breath. "Beel, you will find the perfect Christmas tree. Belphie, you can decorate the tree. Asmo, you can pick out the decorations since you are the best at shopping. Satan, you can decorate the inside of the cabin. Levi, we will go shopping for sweaters for the Christmas Day party. Mammon, you can decorate the outside of the cabin. I will help all of you while Lucifer oversees everything."

"Eh? So, I gotta freeze my behind off to decorate the outside while Lucifer does nothin'?" Mammon muttered under his breath with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. "That ain't fair."

"That sounds like the perfect job for you, Mammon." Levi chuckled, but his lips quickly dropped when he realized his responsibility. "Y-You...want me to...go to a s-store with you? Can't we just use a service like Akuzon?"

"No! Shopping in person is part of the whole Christmas experience. Besides, I will be with you, so don't worry." You reassured him, brushing aside his unnecessary concern. "Asmo, let's go shopping today. The quicker we get the decorations, the faster we can start our celebrations."

Satan looked down at the book on his lap before returning his gaze to you and quietly asking, "Mind if I join you? Since I am decorating the interior, I can help pick out the decor."

"Sure! In that case, Beel, why don't you tag along? Satan might need help carrying all the bags. Oh, and there will be loads of food at the Christmas Market." You said playfully, purposely emphasizing the magic word - food. The Avatar of Gluttony forgot that Belphie had his head on his lap and stood up immediately, jolting his younger twin awake.

"Beel..." Belphie tiredly whined, to which Beel apologized, making everyone chuckle.

The holiday cheer was in the air, a buzz of activities filling the streets of the festive market. Tents and shops were loaded with holiday items, from bright lights and shiny ornaments to mouthwatering baked goods. The sound of live Christmas melodies could be heard in the distance toward the center of the market. Children chased each other around, their laughs echoing throughout the area, livening the market further. Asmo, Beel, and Satan scanned the market in awe, not expecting such a large amount of people there.

"It will be better if we split up so we can cover the market before night falls," Satan suggested, but before you could answer him, Beel walked away, drawn by the aroma of peppermint and chocolate. Without waiting for your response, Satan followed his younger brother to make sure he didn't cause any trouble. Taking the chance, Asmo grabbed your hand and pulled you to a nearby tent filled with shiny and glittery decorations.

"Sweetie, look at this." Asmodeus held up a charm bracelet with a small snowman with a red scarf and green Santa hat, a Christmas tree with colorful ornaments, a cartoon reindeer, and various colorful gifts. "It's so cute! Oh, and this is cute too."

You wanted to remind him that he was supposed to be shopping for Christmas decorations, but seeing his face lit up as his eyes danced from one piece of jewelry to another, you couldn't bring yourself to pull him away. You let him browse the store for a while before finally reminding him that they needed to buy decorations.

Even then, Asmo got distracted by a shop that sold sweets, and you couldn't blame him. As you stepped into the cozy tent, you were instantly enveloped in a heavenly aroma that tantalized your senses. The air was sweet and rich with the scent of freshly baked goodies. The sugary, buttery goodness mixed with the warm, spicy aroma of cinnamon, vanilla, and chocolate created an irresistible sensation. The subtle notes of spices made the smell even more alluring. Your eyes were drawn to the table overflowing with cakes, pastries, and winter-themed cookies, each one looking more delicious than the last. If Beel had been there, he would buy the entire bakery and devour everything in less than an hour.

As the two of you continued shopping, the sweet smell of sugary ginger tickled Asmo's nose. In the corner of the lively, bustling market, he noticed an elderly woman, who seemed out of place, standing in front of a small gingerbread stall. Her face was framed by long, tattered gray hair, and her weary eyes watched the people with little interest. The Avatar of Lust briefly glanced at you as you browsed through the Christmas tree ornaments before looking around the area. However, his gaze kept returning to the woman.

Leaving you to choose the ornaments, he slowly approached her with a warm smile, but his smile faltered when he looked into her emerald eyes. They seem distant, almost blank, as if life had drained the will and light out of her soul.

"Can I please get one gingerbread cookie?" Asmo sweetly asked.

The woman wordlessly wrapped the cookie in a paper napkin and handed it to him, almost hinting for him to leave her alone. Despite that, Asmo stayed put and took a small bite from the gingerbread man's right arm. His eyes widened as the layers of spices, creaminess, and sweetness exploded on his tongue, making him crave more.

"(Y/n)! Come here! You have to try this. " He called out to you. One bite and you were instantly in love with the soft, delectable treat and gave the elderly woman the widest grin possible.

"Ma'am, these are the most delicious gingerbread men I have ever tasted. I will take two bags, please." Hearing your compliment and seeing your reactions, the corners of her lips slightly twitched, but she remained silent. While the elderly lady bagged the treats for you, Asmo reached into one of the shopping bags and fished out a red box with a green satin bow.

"It is a little early to give a Christmas present, but this is for you." The Avatar of Lust handed her the box, but the lady refused, seeming embarrassed to accept the gift from a stranger. Asmo chuckled and gently pushed the box into her hands. "Please, I insist. Think of it as a gift from...someone who cares...like a gift from a stranger who is like your son."

Hearing those words, the woman's face softened, and her eyes filled with familiar grief and tears. Like a knife through her heart, his words brought back memories that she thought she had successfully suppressed. Both you and Asmo were taken aback at her sudden change in expression as you exchanged a look with him. Did Asmo say something he wasn't supposed to?

"A-Are you alright?" You concernedly asked. The woman nodded and quickly wiped the tears from her cheek with her trembling hand before displaying a gentle yet pained smile.

"You remind me of my son - such a sweet and gentle boy he was. Last year, he got into an accident and lost his life." The sweetness in her voice was overshadowed by the grief held in her heart. "Since then, I have been alone."

"Sorry," Asmo whispered as he lowered his head, feeling guilty for unintentionally digging up a painful memory.

"No, child. I cannot remember the last time someone showed me kindness. Thank you for the gift. I will treasure it." The elderly woman gently said, lifting the lid of the gift box. She briefly stared at the gingerbread man-shaped earrings, and in the next moment, her face brimmed with joy. A hearty laughter broke out from deep within her as if a heavy burden had finally been lifted from her shoulders.

Both you and Asmo felt the joy emitting from the woman, causing you to grin and giggle along with her. A warm sensation fluttered in Asmo's heart, something he had never experienced, but he couldn't make sense of it. With a gentle caress of her hand on his head, the aged lady warmly spoke, "May God bless you, dear child. I wish you an early Merry Christmas."

Asmo's expression shifted imperceptibly as the lady blessed him, but he quickly regained his composure and maintained his smile. Despite his reaction, Asmo understood that the lady meant no harm, but the thought of God blessing him sent a chill down his spine. Meanwhile, you pressed your lips firmly in a thin line to stop yourself from laughing at the ironic situation. As if drawn by the woman's laughter, Beel and Satan approached the stall. The fourth brother watched the interaction between the lady and Asmo with a curious expression, while the sixth brother was focused entirely on the cookies.

Without glancing at Beel, you handed him one of the bags you purchased from the woman. The instant he took one bite of the cookie, Beel asked her to pack all the treats for him, rendering the lady speechless.

"God bless all of you." She warmly said once again, causing Satan discomfort and Beel confusion. You pressed the back of your fingers to your lips to stop yourself from bursting out laughing.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, Beel and Satan said their goodbyes and left, leaving you and Asmo to explore the enchanting night market. The market was illuminated by a dazzling display of Christmas lights, which adorned the cobblestone streets like shimmering stars in the night sky. The small shops lined the sidewalks looked even more inviting, with their warm, golden light spilling out into the street. The air was crisp and cool and carried a sense of tranquility as the snowflakes fell gently from the sky, blanketing everything in sight in a soft, white powder.

Asmo led you through the bustling crowds, the twinkling Christmas lights illuminating his pale orange eyes. Finally, he found a quiet spot and turned to face you, a mischievous sparkle in his gaze. He held out a white gift box with a deep blue ribbon neatly tied.

"This is an early present for you." He said with a playful wink.

A smile tugged on your lips as you carefully opened the box to reveal a custom glass Christmas tree ornament with a photo of you and Asmo. The image depicted a moment when he kissed your cheek, and you were blushing and laughing. Below the photo were beautifully calligraphed words that read:

Dear (y/n), I can't tell you how lucky I feel to have someone like you in my life. You always know how to cheer me up, and I can never thank you enough for always being there for me. I feel more beautiful when I am around you. I love you with all my heart! Lots of love, Asmo

Your cheeks burned bright, and tears stung your eyes as you read his message. You slowly lifted your head and met his gaze, not knowing how to express the swirl of emotions in your heart. The soft glow of the Christmas lights filled your eyes as Asmo stepped closed and enveloped you in a tender embrace. The chilliness of the night made the warmth of his body even more welcoming to you and only heightened your blush. For an instant, the world around you fell silent, leaving only the rhythmic beating of your hearts as Asmo leaned in, his movements almost languid, to tenderly brush his lips against yours.

As you pulled away from the kiss, you stared into his eyes, your gaze holding yearning and desire. Your heart skipped a few beats at the thought of what would happen next, and though you remembered you were in a public place, you didn't care. Being the Avatar of Lust, he instantly picked up on your signal, grabbed your hand, and dragged you away from there.

The market lights began to disappear as Asmo brought you to an empty alley, but it felt more like a secret spot for lovers to find. The quietness of the surroundings was slightly eerie, but you didn't have enough time to think about that as your lover connected his lips once more with yours, but this time with more intensity.

Time seemed to cease as Asmo's hands slid under your jacket and sweater, exploring the smooth surface of your skin. However, he was cautious not to expose too much of your skin to the chilly night air as he didn't want you to catch a cold. His touch gently followed the curves and valleys of your body until it eventually drifted inside your pants, causing a wave of goosebumps to ripple along your skin. Your lips were locked with his as your tongues danced in a captivating tango, both equally eager and enraptured by the sensation. His breath, along with yours, became deeper and heavier as the heat of the moment consumed your bodies and hearts.

Asmo's gentle touch against your folds made you shiver, each caress filling you with anticipation while your excitement reached a fever pitch. You squeezed your eyes shut and melted under his experienced touch as his fingers massaged your clitoris in a circular motion. Asmo was mindful of your surroundings and drank every moan that arose from your lips, not wanting to draw any attention to the alleyway. He didn't break away even when your moans made his head spin.

His index and right fingers slowly disappeared inside you, feeling as if they were being swallowed by a warm abyss. Their invasion left you weak in the knees and set your body on fire. Your insides tightly gripped his fingers, eagerly pulling them in deeper as a deep rumble of pleasure jolted through your heated body. With each movement of his hands, your wetness coated his fingers, and you inched closer to your edge. Asmo smiled on your lips, knowing well the delight he was giving you, but he had no plans of stopping until you were fully satisfied.

In a matter of minutes, you were in a state of euphoria. Your head spun with intense pleasure as your body trembled and your walls clamped down on Asmo's fingers. Pure bliss was all you felt. You couldn't have asked for a better ending to the perfect evening.

———————————————

➣ Obey Me Masterlist: [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi?

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pspkisser · 7 months

Text

⚙️ This laptop was saved from obsolescence! [10 mins of read]

Hello!! i am making this post here to raise awareness for PC and laptop upgrades, and how it should motivate you to do that same thing to preserve yours for longer or to give it the power you need! this will feature my history with mine, as well as the steps i took to be able to make him breathe life better! this is the story of his journey, and how it went to this current day.

his name is samuel, he is an asus fx570u and i bought him back in september of 2018 after i turned 13! he was brand new during that time and priced at 800 euros, offering only 6 gb of memory and an HDD as his specs. however he does have an 8th gen core i5 as his cpu and a geforce 1050 ti for his gpu. for something marketed as a gaming pc, it's pretty low and it wouldn't allow him to run fast enough, especially for highly demanding software and causing some compatibility issues. it wasn't severe, but as i was stuck with an hdd, that meant operating systems would run pretty slow on it, also leading to long software loading times. this is made worse by the fact that its bundled system, windows 10, isn't designed to work efficiently on hdd in the first place, but at least that means i have my hands on a windows key to be able to use some windows exclusive programs..

i mainly used him to be able to use advanced video editing software and customize the games i have on it for my own taste, because back then i loved making youtube videos and it was a passion i've had for years until i've partially retired from it. i rarely bought games on it and instead opted for free-to-plays, and overall had a good time with him.

unfortunately within only 3 months, his HDD broke down and i sent him to technicians for them to replace it with another one. it was a minor accident i've had but it formatted all my data, even though it didn't matter much since i uploaded most of it to the internet. i just had to be gentle with him by trying to not moving him around too much to stop that issue from persisting... but it was still low-end in terms of system performance. i finally used him for 1 year straight before moving on to a tower pc, feeling tired about his slowness and believing i couldn't do much about it.

i used that other (unnamed) pc for almost a year, starting from 2020! they seemed to work better since it had windows 7, but embarrassingly enough that version itself stopped receiving official security updates months before i started using it, even though i was careful while accessing the internet with it. its performances were also low, but didn't really matter much since i didn't take so much advantage from the power of samuel. suddenly, i had the foolish idea of installing windows 8.1 on the latter to try to deal with the performance issues on 10, but it led to even more compatibility issues since the drivers i used were meant to be for 10 only. only by early 2021, i got win10 back on him and started using him again to get more power again.

so the low-end performance persisted for very long. back then i never knew how to upgrade pcs, so i was only used to replacing devices with others which wasn't cost-efficient. after realizing i used windows for well over 10 years, i had the idea of switching to a mac and as a result, for xmas 2021 i got myself a cute yellow silicon imac, who goes by the name of sarah! but switching to macos posed new serious challenges, such as getting used to the lack of windows compatibility and the missing features that i was used to for a long time. most of the creativity i did with her was drawings with firealpaca and krita, and cgi with blender, which wasn't really much. still, she is pretty glossy and also powerful for many of the tasks i'm performing with her. originally i also intended to sell samuel, but that never happened (i low regret that decision so much i swear).

in late 2022, samuel's performance apparently had had a big hit... he now takes approximately 20 seconds to open any program and it seemed to me like something was wrong with him. at that time i also gained interest in linux since it's a libre OS capable of much more flexibility, essentially allowing it to revive old PCs. i finally decided to get linux mint to work on him via a dual boot with win11 (what was i thinking when i "upgraded" him from 10?). the performance seemed a little better from then, but programs still took very long to open. for that reason, he had often been collecting dust as he finally became unusable.

finally we've reached 2023. this is the year i decided to take on tearing down devices to learn how to examine problems inside of them. after checking samuel's performance again, i noticed that his HDD was having extremely low writing and reading speeds compared to my tower, which made me feel disappointed. but that's when i finally decided i could be able to replace his hard disk with an ssd, a new generation which is more durable, faster, quieter and energy-efficient...

but i still had a good wait until it was possible. suddenly with my money, i found an ssd which only costed €30, and it made me happy that this would be a quick way of healing up samuel! so i rushed to get it, and finally opened him to prepare everything... unfortunately, his keyboard has to be lifted up in the process, and there are flex cables connected between it and the motherboard. but taking out the hard disk thankfully only requires a few steps; removing some screws, then inserting the SSD inside of it. after that i quickly put linux mint back into him. SO SPLENDID...

for only the price of a high budget indie game, now he can open programs very fast, close to how fast sarah can do, and just about any task works perfectly well on him with way less bugs! thanks to that fast upgrade he's become viable for daily drives again, even though i don't have other desks suitable for pcs which makes me less motivated to use him. really wish id be able to since the architecture he has (x64) means he has a lot more software he's able to handle natively...

but then, i hadn't upgraded his ram. i said before that he only had 6 gb of it, and that meant he could only work with a few programs before becoming bloated. and as i like doing power tasks on him, that obviously causes problems. so one day, i went to a pc part store out of curiosity, and became shocked when i found small ram carts that could be compatible with my laptop. after some talk with the seller, i bought 2 ddr4 carts each containing 8 gb and clocked at 2666 mhz, more than double of what i used to have. after that it was time to take on a challenge to be able to insert them myself.

when the seller asked me if i needed assistance to have the carts inserted into my laptop, i giggled internally because of my past stories with learning how to open devices and trying to troubleshoot or modify them internally. i obviously declined it which saved me money, but also meant i had to do it all myself. after an hour of painful manipulations which required me to take out the entire motherboard from samuel, while that next step was also difficult i was finally able to insert the carts into it, before placing all his components back into place. and after such a long time of waiting...

i've finally done it!

Samuel is feeling very well right now!! despite his cpu and gpu dating from over 5 years, now he can do even more tasks at a time, while also being able to read them faster, a massive improvement compared to when it was stuck with an hdd and only 6 gb of ram. i'm guessing those low specs were for the purpose of saving manufacturing costs, but until you'd find use for the components that you'd remove, they'd end up becoming waste. and with a free os like linux mint, it adds up to an even more optimized experience than windows 10, which comes with so many unwanted stuff and can't be customized very well.

have you had a similar story to mine? did that pose you challenges? i took over 40 minutes to write this entire piece of text, but it should at least be very well detailed! on the best case scenario i hope it would inspire others to do some research on upgrading PCs to preserve their lives and especially save costs. Thank you for reading the entirety of it, don't hesitate reblogging it if you think it would interest your own audience! peace for all of you 💙

#pc #laptop #computer #computers #pc upgrade #objectum #gaming pc #linux #linux mint

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joshlmbrt · 5 months

Text

NOW PLAYING (FROM THE VAULT);

♫ TRACK 11; You’re On Your Own, Kid. (dad!steve harrington version)

. 1:03 ──⚬──── 3:45 .

. ⇆ ◃◃ ıı ▹▹ ↻ .

warnings; growing up, talks about deep issues; sh, toxic relationships, and mental health. r is a female! this one is just kind of sad but bittersweet as well.

an; this wasn’t a request by anyone, but i really felt like maybe this would fit steve/dad!steve! lowkey kind of cried myself but that’s okay. but i hope you all enjoy because i really really like this one. i promise that im working on the other request, ive just really been wanting to write this one!

special tag!; @hollandweather

to request, click here!

‘SUMMER WENT AWAY. . .’

NEW JASPER, MAINE. 2008

The first time you had ever heard your baby girl, Violet, cry was when she was born.

The second time the cry was as loud as it was the first time, was when she found out she was having a baby bother - she had wanted a sister to dress up, but menacingly, she had talked Matthew into dressing up.

The third time was when she had her heart broken by some boy, who Steve had disliked from the very beginning. Those tears only lasted a week, seemingly over it very quickly.

But now. . . Now it was different.

The crying, although loud, it had you crying too.

Steve wasn’t there at the moment to calm either one of you down. But if he had been there, he would’ve been crying himself, although later on in the day, silently to himself so you wouldn’t start crying as well.

“I just want to stop, Mom.” Her sobs had made her voice raw, small.

Her hands shake in your own as you sit on her floor, staring at her as you nod. “I know, baby,” Your voice cracks and you are quick to reach out and hold her face. She’s still here. She’s okay. She’ll be okay. “I know. . . I’ll help you. In any way I can. I’ll help. I promise.”

“Please don’t tell daddy. I don’t want-” Her breath shudders as she greedily sucks breath back into her lungs. “I don’t want him to worry.”

You nod, pull her closer to rest her head against your chest, pushing back the sweaty hairs against her forehead. “I wont. I promise,” You rock her softly. “I promise.” You press your lips against her forehead.

Her hand grips onto your arm tightly, your eyes land on the small welts on her arm.

Your heart breaks all over for her.

The feeling of not feeling as if she was enough - that she didn’t have anyone to come too - it makes your heart shatter into a million pieces.

Your body starts to rock side to side with her as her sobs turn into small hiccups. You start humming her a small song as you did when she used to cry in your arms.

‘I DREAM OF GETTING OUT, THERE’S JUST ONE WHO COULD MAKE ME STAY.’

🕊️

2010.

She’s been happy for a while.

The only hurt on her arms is bruises this time, seemingly appearing every so often.

“This is Michael,” Violet had a big smile on her face, teeth an all. It was a special occasion, the new boyfriend of 5 months finally meeting her family at a cookout.

Eddie and Robin had glance at the boy, smiling and nodding in kind, introducing themselves.

Nancy and Jonathan were on a trip, not being able to make it. But they give their best wishes and hopes to the couple.

Dustin had introduced himself, hand shaking the boys who only seemed as if he was uninterested.

Steve, being the total dad he was, he had made a joke of some sort, causing you to slap his arm, quick to reassure Michael he was not capable of causing harm.

He couldn’t even hurt a fly.

Making a quick excuse to show him to the family room to watch a movie, Michael had gripped ahold of her hand.

Matthew watches quietly, deciding to stay with Uncle Dustin and Eddie, and Auntie Robin. “Baby, could you go get your sister and Michael? Tell them the foods ready.” You had asked.

Soon you’d regret sending him downstairs.

He nods. You press quick kiss to the top of his head before setting out paper plates.

He had stepped inside quietly, making his way towards the door that was cracked.

The first thing he had heard was begging - a female begging stop.

His brother duties are immediately heightened, pushing the door open, careful, knowing it creaks.

On light footing, he makes his way down the steps. He stops, eyes widening at the sight.

He watches as the boys hands get a tighter grip on his sister - a person he loved, cherished, and looked up too because she was the strongest person he knew - before slinging her down on the couch, arm raised.

He doesn’t stick around to watch the rest, but the sound of what did happen makes him glad he didn’t witness it and was quick to run out.

Steve was a blur once Matthew had told him, Eddie hot on his heels. You check over Matthew before glancing over at Robin whose face was contorted in worry.

Steve was lucky Eddie had followed him, otherwise he would’ve missed out on everything that was to come in the near future.

Although, Eddie was not gentle pushing the boy out of the front door while Steve tried to hold Violet, to check on her.

Matthew had followed you and Robin down the steps, Dustin quickly following after the boy. “Matt-" He tries to grab his hand to pull him back.

Violet has her sights immediately on the boy. “This is your fault! We were fine!” Steve had a hold - a gentler hold - on her arms.

“Violet May!” Your brows raised in surprise.

“It was fine! Everything was fine!” She cries out. “Then Matthew had to ruin everything!” She had an angered expression.

Matthew’s lips were parted as he watched the look of anger. . . hatred on her face. “I’m. . . I’m sorry. It looked like-”

“I hate you,” She seethes, pushing past everyone. “I wished mom never had you!” She runs up the stairs before making her way to her room in a haste.

Matthew watches, lip quivering at the words. He turns to look at you and Steve. “I’m sorry, mama. I thought she was. . . I thought she was getting hurt.”

You toss a look to Steve who nods, making his way upstairs as you kneel in front of Matthew, holding your arms out. He quickly makes his way over, wrapping his arms around your neck. “Shhh, it’s okay. You did the right thing, sweet boy. She didn’t mean any of it,” You pull away and wipe away his tears. “You’re very brave.” You whisper, nodding.

He smiles shakily at that, before leaning in and giving you a tighter hug. You rub his back softly, eyes peeking up at everyone else who stands there in silence.

That night, Matthew had woken up. He couldn’t get that vision out of his head.

He slips out of bed, making his way to the bathroom. He stops quickly though, ears perking up at the sound of sniffling.

He quietly makes his way towards the door that had one of his drawings taped to it of him and his sister. He knocks softly, waiting for her voice. It never comes.

Still, worried about the person he loved the most, he pushes the door open quietly, leaving it open a crack before making his way towards her bed.

He slides down onto the floor, pulling his legs up and resting his chin on his knees.

He didn’t want her to kick him out so fast, so he stayed silent. She knew he was there and if she really wanted to be alone, she would definitely tell him.

He just wanted her to know that someone cares for her - he still cares for her.

She knew.

‘I LOOKED AROUND IN A BLOOD-SOAKED GOWN AND SAW SOMETHING THEY CAN’T TAKE AWAY.’

🕊️

2013.

“I’m going to college!” Violet jumps up and down, the white acceptance letter in her hand, crinkled from her fist.

You shout with her, pulling her into a tight hug. Steve is quick to join. Matthew stares, mouth turned in a frown.

Steve picks his head up, watching as the boy moves the cereal in the bowl. “Did you hear her, champ? Vi is going to college!”

“Yeah. In Chicago.” He says, monotonously. He’s impressed, really. If anyone could do it, he knew his sister could.

He was proud, but didn’t want it to show. He was angry that she was growing up and leaving him alone. Even if he never really was alone.

The group hug breaks and you share a small glance with Steve. “Aw, bud. She’ll come back.”

“Whatever,” He lifts his shoulder. “Woo, or whatever,” whatever had been the choice word he had been using lately. “I don’t care. Good for her. She’s going to forget about us and never look back.”

“Matt, no I won’t. I could never-” “I don’t care!” He drops the spoon against the bowl, causing you to flinch at the sound. He stands from the chair. “I don’t care that you’re going to college! I’m glad you’re leaving!”

He’s then walking away, slamming the door and stopping on the porch.

He didn’t mean that. He wanted to hide the letter before she had even saw it, but it was too late. She had plucked it from his grasp, gasping as she ran inside.

He would’ve been in big trouble for trashing it anyway.

He plops on the porch swing, staring out at the yard as he picks at the loose skin around his nails.

Steve had given him a few moments to himself before stepping out and placing himself next to him. Now and days, Matthew really looked like Steve.

It almost was scary to Steve how much he really looked like him.

“You okay, Matt?”

“Excellent.”

Steve sighs and nods a bit as he stares out into the yard. He smiles a bit. “Remember that one time when Violet made you dress up with her and do a little fashion runway in the driveway?”

Matthew feels his lip curve a bit, nodding as he drops his head. “Yeah.”

“She wanted a sister really bad,” Steve nods. “But once you came into the world, she was so excited. She couldn’t wait to get home from pre-school everyday,” He chuckles. “She kept kicking her dirty little sparkly shoes against my seat.” Steve’s word didn’t have any malice.

Matthew smiles a bit, turning his palm over and picking at the callous on his hand.

“She loves you, Matt,” Steve nods, looking over at the boy. “Very much. She loves us all even when we don’t see eye to eye on something. So don’t. . . let her leave making her think you aren’t happy for her.”

Steve’s hand lands on his son’s shoulder, gripping softly, comfortingly. “Growing up is scary. It only gets scarier from here. And it sucks. . . But it’s not so bad when you know you have family who loves and cares for you deeply.”

Matthew was sobbing now, leaning into Steve’s side as he presses his lip into his chestnut locks, his own eyes growing watery.

William, Steve’s father, had never let him express feelings or showed affection - fearing it would make him weak - so Steve, even if he was scared each time you became pregnant, made a promise with himself.

He would never, ever, allow his children to feel alone or unloved, would never let them feel like it was weak to show emotion or affection by laughing in their face.

He would never tell them what their dream should be, what they should be doing, they could figure that out on their own during life.

He knew that he would fail on somethings in parenthood. But one thing he never wanted to fail on was exactly that.

And he didn’t fail.

‘TAKE THE MOMENT AND TASTE IT, YOU’VE GOT NO REASON TO BE AFRAID.’

🕊️

The trunk slams close and Violet huffs, her hands on her hips - something she had copied from Steve since she was old enough to walk - turning towards everyone.

Nancy is quick to take a photo - your hands are too busy shaking - and Nelly, Nancy’s youngest, quickly barrels towards her legs and wraps her arms around her. “Don’t go.”

Violet smiles sadly, kneeling down to the girl with tight curls and a cute, pert nose. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“My birthday?”

Violet smiles sneakily. “Maybe.” She whispers. Nelly smiles, a small gap in the front from where she had just lost the tooth, she’s quick to wrap her arms around her.

Violet smiles and closes her eyes as she tilts her head down. She always smelled like strawberries.

Nelly parts from her and she stands sighing. Violet hugs Nancy and Jonathan next, before Eddie and Robin, Dustin, Max and Lucas are next. “Take care of them,” She points towards Steve and you. “Please.” She laughs, it’s a bit airy.

She’s about to cry.

“We know.” Max nods.

“No promises.” Eddie holds his hands up. Robin slaps his arm, Violet laughs softly. She steps back and glances at Steve.

“You’ll call when you get there?” He lifts his brows.

She rolls her eyes, nodding. “Yes.”

He nods. “If, uh, if you ever need somewhere to stay if this doesn’t work out-”

“Wow, thanks.” She knew he meant well, but she had the jitters all day.

“You know what I mean,” He shakes his head. She nods, scratching at her arm. “But, if you need somewhere to go. . . You can always come back home.”

She nods, smiling as she quickly wraps her arms around his sides, face buried in his chest. His hand lands on her shoulder, the other land on the top of her head. “I love you, nugget.”

She laughs softly, a tear leaving her eye. “I love you, daddy.”

She pulls away, wiping a tear before wrapping her arms around you. You waste no time to wrap your own around her.

You curse time in your head, want to beg her to stay, but instead you whisper, “Don’t forget us, please.”

She’s quick to shake her head. “Never. I could never forget where I came from.”

You pull away, wiping her tears from her cheeks. She does the same to you.

You smile softly at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, mama. I’ll call you as soon as I make it.”

You nod, pulling away. Although, you want to reach out for her again, you stand next to Steve who wraps his arm around you.

Matthew is standing next to the car, hands in his pocket. She steps up towards him, smiling softly.

“Well, I guess this is it, huh?”

“Yeah. I guess.” He shrugs.

She hums a bit, staring at him. He stares at her quietly. He feels the burn before launching himself towards her, arms wrapping around her neck.

She lets out a breath of relief, more tears falling from her face. “I love you, Matt. You’re the best little brother any sister could ask for.”

“And you’re the best big sister any little brother could ask for,” He nods. He pulls away, quickly wiping away his tears. “And. . . I know I haven’t said it yet, but I am proud of you. I was just scared.”

“Of what?”

“You forgetting me.”

“I could never forget you. Unless you forget about me.” She squints her eyes at him.

He laughs a bit, although it sounds rough around the edges. “Never.”

She smiles and wipes a stray tear away from his cheek. “I love you.” She says again.

“And I love you. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Of course. I’m gonna bother you guys with calls.”

He smiles at that, nodding.

“You’re on your own, kid.”

She smirks at him, patting his cheek as she steps off the curb. Sliding into the car, she pushes some glasses up on her nose before starting the car.

“Don’t forget your seatbelt!” Steve yells out. She laughs quietly in the car, buckling up. She rolls down all the windows before throwing her arm out, waving to everyone gathered on the curb.

They all wave back, growing smaller in the distance.

🕊️

‘YEAH, YOU CAN FACE THIS. YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN, KID. YOU ALWAYS HAVE BEEN.’

thank you all for reading! likes, comments, feedbacks, and reblogs are encouraged and deeply appreciated! 🧸

#dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #dad!steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic

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redfoxwritesstuff · 4 months

Text

Sunflower: Book 1, Chapter 1

Tom Hiddleston x ofc (Mia Sull) Chapter 2 Masterlist Series Rating: M Chapter Warnings: Mentions of sexual health items, alcohol use, Nudity Series warnings: Sexual content, alcohol use

RPF Note- This is a fictional version of Tom Hiddleston. I have and will continue to play with the timeline of his career. All characters are fictional. Out of respect for the actual Tom, I have fictionalized his family members beyond the most basic details as well as as past romantic entanglements. Please do NOT take this romantic work of fiction as disapproval of his current relationship. He appears happy, has a family and I am happy for him. I have a hundred and one fictional versions of him in my head, I don't need the real life man single.

Summary: Las Vegas drew in people like him. Heart broken, lonely and rejected while his ex married someone else. Here he could be anyone though, flying under the radar of his skyrocketing fame.

Las Vegas was home to people like her. Lonely, broke and with the weight of the world on her shoulders. There was never enough of anything except stress. She was one of the countless faces that lived in the shadow of the glittering lights.

Two worlds collide in a drunken night neither can remember. What do you do when what happens in Vegas is a legally binding marriage contract between two strangers?

Chapter One

Shrill ringing cut through the silence. Slitting open her eyes, Mia regretted it instantly. The bright sunlight of the day stabbed her eyes without care for the pain it caused. Blindly, she groped toward the cursed sound of her phone ringing. Pawing at it, she dismissed the alarm or call or alert- what exactly she didn’t know and didn’t care at that moment.

“Fucking hell…” It was hard to talk. Her throat felt like someone had stuffed it full of cotton balls. Her head pounded and it felt like she was floating.

“Agreed…” she could have sworn a voice mumbled behind her. She had had far too much to drink the night before and couldn’t trust her senses.

“Where are you?” The voice was a distant squawk. It turned out that it was a call and, rather than dismissing it she had answered it.

“Fuck.” she said again, not registering much but dragging the phone to her ear. “What?”

“Breakfast. You’re missing from it. Where are you?” It was her sister Ashley on the other end of the call.

Breakfast… shit. Breakfast. “I’ll get right on that.”

“Where are you?” Ashley’s voice was so loud. Was the phone on speaker or was the volume punishing her for the night before?

“Hotel room?” Mia said.

“Mandalay Bay.” The voice behind her offered slightly stronger. The bed shifted under the weight of another occupant moving. The voice earlier hadn’t been a figment of her imagination after all.

“Who was that?” Ashley asked.

“I don’t honestly know.” She admitted, not caring if she hurt the occupant’s feelings but trying to keep her voice down.

If there wasn’t a thousand angry hornets surfing on shifting sand in her skull, it may have occurred to her that admitting that while in a hotel alone- she assumed they were alone at least- with a strange man was likely not the greatest choice.

“Tom.” The mystery man supplied as if that actually gave her any information. Did he expect her to remember him? Did he remember her?

“He says his name is Tom.” Did she even know a Tom? She had no memory of a Tom.

“I heard.” Ashley was not pleased. She was whatever existed below highly displeased was. “Who the hell is-”

“Give me ten to fifteen, kay?” Mia didn’t give her a chance to answer before disconnecting the call.

“What the hell happened?” It took all the strength in her body to roll from her stomach to her back. Her limbs felt like they had been replaced with sacks of potatoes. How much did I drink?

The thought was cut off when she saw him. Light brown hair was lit up gold in the offensively bright Las Vegas morning sun, defining the curl to the short stands. He had a sharp jaw peppered with morning stubble and defined cheekbones. Most importantly, he was without a shirt. Hopefully that was all the clothes missing from him.

He held his hand up over his chest, suspended and looking at it incredulously. A Simple gold ring reflected off his left hand.

Fuck. Her leg brushed against his as she shifted to face him. She was very much naked and anything resembling pant legs did not cover his leg. Fuckity fuck fuck. She fucked a married man. When the fuck did she sink so low?

“I think we got married?” Tom’s voice had fewer cotton balls and gravel now as he shifted again in the bed.

“Oh thank god, you’re not married.” The words slipped out in a breath before the real meaning of his words sank in and she bolted upright. “Wait, what? Fuck.” She yanked the too thin blankets up to her naked chest as soon as the overly cold hotel room air made contact with her bare breasts. In the process, she stole blankets from the mystery Tom. His long toned thigh and hip was reveled and yep- he was naked too.

“I believe we’re married.” The words came slowly, calmly as he watched her. Absently, he tugged the blanket to cover his hip and maintain his cover, though he seemed far less concerned with potential exposure than she was. Who could blame him? His chest and abdomen were toned. No wonder she fell into bed with him.

But marry him? She wouldn’t. She didn’t know him. And they couldn’t, anyway. “There’s no way.”

“Shall we find out?” Muscles rippled and contracted as he sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. His back was as nice to look at as the rest of him. Quickly, she chastised herself for thinking that way.

This was insanity.

Look away, she reminded herself, as he leaned down and slipped on a pair of boxers. Before she could stop herself, she noticed how they hugged the curve of his ass. It was possible he had a nicer ass than her.

Tom rummaged around as she tried to make a gown out of the blanket before handing her a white button-down shirt. It was too large for her and clearly was his. “Your dress is ripped down the zipper.”

“Turn around.”

He complied, but a chuckle slipped from him as he did so. “It’s a bit late for that, eh?”

“We don’t know that.” It was a lie, she knew it was. Her hips ached in a way that made it impossible to lie to herself, but she sure as hell would lie to him.

“The condom in the trash over here says we did,” or maybe lying to him wasn’t an option. “It’s okay if you don’t remember- I only remember bits. We shouldn’t have.”

“But we did.” It killed her to admit that. “Look, if we were so drunk we couldn’t remember having sex, they wouldn’t have given us a marriage license.”

“You think?” It didn’t sound like he was listening to her as he rummaged through some papers that were scattered on the floor.

“I know, Tom- that’s your name, right? Look, these sorts of things happen in movies and books. Sure, you can walk into the clerk’s office and get a marriage license damn near 24/7 and walk out with a license within 30 minutes, but they’re trained to look for people too damn drunk to make that decision.”

“And what if I just found the paperwork?” When she faced him, he was looking at her intently and holding a stack of papers in his hand.

“No.” He pulled the papers from her as she reached for them, eyebrow raised.

“You don’t know me?” His whole demeanor changed with the question, body becoming rigid.

What the fuck sort of question was that? “Should I?”

“It doesn’t’ matter.” Sure, he was hot, but what the fuck was with that ‘do you know who I am?’ shit? But he seemed to relax with that answer. He didn’t look like a mafia throwback at least.

When she reached for the papers again, he let her take them. She didn’t exactly have the right clothes on to try and climb the man to steal them if he had decided to be childish. The official papers were all there. Everything looked legit and the yellow carbon copies were present with the official white sheets missing.

“Fuck me.”

“I would make a joke, but I suspect now isn’t the time.” Tom cracked a slight smile, but she only returned a glare.

“Not the time.”

“So, are we married?”

“I think so.” She wanted to puke. It wasn’t fair. She was so hung over and yet the adrenalin was letting her think through the shifting sands in her brain. There wasn’t anything she wanted to do more than puke in the moment, yet her mouth was dryer than the desert.

“Maria, correct?” Tom spoke softer. “The paperwork said your name is Maria?”

“Mia,” She corrected absently. She was only Maria when someone was mad at her. “Hiddleston? That’s my new name? What the fuck kind of name is that?” Realizing how harsh her words were, she tacked on a quick, “Sorry.”

“I can’t say none taken, but we’re under stress, so I’ll let it pass.”

Fiddling with the ring on her finger, she stood in silence for a moment before sitting in a heap on the bed. It wasn’t her intention to insult his name, but she hadn’t expected to have woken up to a husband.

“Here.” A glass of water waved through the tears she hadn’t realized were gathering in her eyes. “You’re probably dehydrated. I know my head is pounding, yours surely is too.”

“Thank you.” She wasn’t aware of how thirsty she was until she took the first gulp of water to wash down the Advil he also handed to her.

“Slow down,” He cautioned, “or you’ll make yourself sick.

Looking down at the last bit of water in the glass, she was silent as her stomach rolled. They had to do something. This shouldn’t have been able to happen. She couldn’t be married to a stranger.

“We need to file for an annulment.” the words came out softly and silence hung in the air after. “The ring is pretty- hopefully it can be refunded. Do you think you picked it or me?” She was talking to fill the void in the room.

“I did,” He sounded… something. Down. Perhaps the reality of the situation was weighing on him as well. “You wouldn’t have any part of picking it.”

“You remember?”

“Bits and pieces are coming back.”

“You picked a nice one.” The ring fit her well, sparkling with promises fit for a princess she would never get to be. “Hopefully you can get a refund.”

Silence again. There were no analog clocks in hotels anymore, but she could somehow still hear the ticking of a clock marking off the seconds in her soul.

“I can have Ashley, my sister, bring me some clothes and we can go get the paperwork filed.” The words were flowing out quickly, trying to fill the room. “We can get this taken care of and be done with it. You won’t have to see me again. I won’t make it dif-”

“What if we don’t?” Long nimble fingers that made her remember warmth twisted his simple band around his finger.

“What?” Surely she didn’t hear him right.

“I was raised to believe things happened for a reason. The amount of things that should have stood in the way to prevent this- what if it happened for a reason?” He couldn’t be serious.

“So what, we just stay married?”

“Well,” She cut him off.

“We don’t even know eachother!”

This was insanity. He was insane. Why would a man like him want to be married to some random woman he didn’t know? He looked like a goddamn god, surely women fall at his feet. She wasn’t special. Any woman could have fallen into his bed. It just happened to be her this time.

“Hear me out,” He said. It was hard not to look at him. What woman wouldn’t want a tall, handsome man pleading with her while wearing nothing but his well fitted boxers? “Let’s take some time. Let’s get to know eachother. We don’t have to rush-”

“You’re actually insane.” In her exasperation, she flopped back on the bed. The hem of the shirt- his shirt- rode up her thighs, and she quickly sat back up and yanked the fabric down. “If we ‘take our time’, the window for annulment will close. Then-”

“Then we get a divorce.” He said it as if it was that simple.

“Divorce means lawyers and court fees. I don’t exactly have shit to split but-”

“I’m not concerned about my assets.”

“How long do you want? A few days?” She ran her hands through her waves in frustration, but quickly yanked them down again as she felt the hem of the shirt creeping higher again. “I need some damn pants.”

“What about a year?”

~~~~~~

Alcohol was burning in his throat even as he called for another. Ice clanked against the cold glass. Lights and sounds blinked and clanged around him and yet, thanks to the insulation, it sounded distant. Condensation dampened his fingertips.

It was childish; he knew that. He was far too grown to be drowning his sorrows in a bar. It was risky too- with the attention and influx of fans, he could only dream of it wouldn’t be unexpected for someone to recognize him.

“Excuse me?” A soft voice called behind his shoulder. This was it, he was found out.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m on per-” She slipped into the empty seat next to him. The bar was packed, and it had only recently been vacated. Though he looked at her, she had her eyes on the bartender.

“Washington apple?” She ordered.

Brown waves cascaded down her back. Were they as soft as they looked? The scent of flowers clung to the surrounding air.

“Mia!” The bartender knew her. “Shouldn’t you have gone home hours ago?”

“No point. I wouldn’t sleep anyway.” The glass slid into her hand with practiced coordination that gave away a history between her and the bartender.

“Why’s that?” He shouldn’t be listening in on their conversation, but the whiskey buzzed in his head, making it hard not to.

“AC is down. No one would get any sleep, anyway.”

Tom downed his whiskey and ordered another. His ex may be getting married, but why should he spend that time alone?

“I couldn’t imagine trying to sleep here with no air conditioning.”

~~~~~~~~~<3 Tag List:

@winterisakiller @alexakeyloveloki @jennyggggrrr @dangertoozmanykids101 @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom (Strikeout = couldn't tag)

#Tom hiddleston x oc #Tom hiddleston x ofc #Tom hiddleston x original female character #Tom hiddleston x original character #Tom hiddleston RPF

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animemusicbrackets · 3 months

Text

Vocaloid Tourney Submissions Results and Preliminaries Info

56 out of 64 spots in the bracket have been filled. List of advancing songs is below the cut.

For the preliminaries, there are 86* songs competing for 8 open spots in the bracket. (again, full list below)

The prelims will be structured as follows:

Part A: *2 songs - a mini pre-preliminary round of sorts between two versions of "Play" by shr - the original Kagamine Rin version vs an UTAU cover featuring Matusdappoiyo, since both versions were submitted. The Winner of this round will participate in part B. (One day long)

Part B: 85 songs - 17 matches of 5 songs, with 1 winner each. I will be releasing 3 or 4 matches every other day to stagger them. Winners of part B will move on to part C. (16 days long)

Part C: 17 songs - 2 matches of 8/9 songs, each with the top 4 songs advancing. Both matches will be released the same day (One week long)

if anyone has any objections to this, or any better ideas, lemme know now, bc that was the best I could come up with. I didnt want the first round of matches to be between too many songs at once, as I felt that would probably be less accurate, and more intimidating so less people would listen to all the songs....... idk

Part A will be up TOMORROW, SUNDAY FEBRUARY 4TH, and will only last one day, bc I want to get to the actual prelims. More information on the rest of the prelims will be up during the week.

List of songs advancing to the bracket or preliminaries below the cut:

ADVANCING TO THE FINAL BRACKET:

"Abnormality Dancin' Girl" by Guchiry; feat. flower

"Alice of Human Sacrifice" by Yugami-P; feat. MEIKO, KAITO, Hatsune Miku, Kagamine Rin & Len

"Alien Alien" by NayutalieN; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Alluring Secret ~Black Vow~" by teamOS; feat. Kagamine Rin & Len (with Hatsune Miku)

"An Alien's "I Love You"" by Utsu-P; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Bacterial Contamination" by Kanimiso-P; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Corpse Attack!!" by Utsu-P; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Daughter of Evil" by MOTHY; feat. Kagamine Rin

"DAYBREAK FRONTLINE" by Orangestar; feat. IA

"Deep-Sea Girl" by Yuuyu-P; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Donut Hole" by Hachi; feat. GUMI

"drop pop candy" by Giga-P and Reol; feat. Kagamine Rin and Megurine Luka

"ECHO" by Crusher and CircusP; feat. GUMI

"Electrical Forecast" by inabakumori; feat. Hatsune Miku

"First Train and Kafka" by n-buna; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Ghost Girl" by Mikito-P; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Ghost Rule" by DECO*27; feat. Hatsune Miku

"GOATLIKE" by Somari; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Hana Ichi Monme" by Team Kamiuta; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Hated by Life Itself." by Kanzaki Iori; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Hole-dwelling" by Kikuo; feat. Hatsune Miku

"I thought I was an angel" by Utsu-P; feat. Hatsune Miku

"I'm glad you're evil too" by Pinocchio-P; feat. Hatsune Miku (with Pinnocchio-P)

"Ironina" by Niru Kajitsu; feat. flower

"Kokoro" by Toraboruta-P; feat. Kagamine Rin

"kyakkya" by Yuyoyuppe; feat. Natsuki Karin

"Kyuukurarin" by iyowa; feat. KAFU

"Lag Train" by inabakumori; feat. Kaai Yuki

"Law-evading Rock" by Neru; feat. Kagamine Len (with Ishifuro, Shirakami Mashiro, Jin, MoffuP, Yamaji, Yuumao, Ramune

"Lost One's Weeping" by Neru and tomoboP; feat. Kagamine Rin

"Matroyshka" by Hachi; feat. GUMI and Hatsune Miku

"Melt" by ryo; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Meltdown" by iroha(sasaki); feat. Kagamine Rin

"Moth" by Utsu-P; feat. Hatsune Miku

"My R" by Wada Takeaki; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Non-Breath Oblige" by Pinocchio-P; feat. Hatsune Miku

"ODDS&ENDS" by ryo; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Ohedo Julia-Night" by Mitchie M; feat. Hatsune Miku and KAITO

"Outer Science" by Jin; feat. IA

"phony" by Tsumiki; feat. KAFU

"Regret Message" by MOTHY; feat. Kagamine Rin

"Rolling Girl" by wowaka; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Rotten Heresy and Chocolate" by Pinocchio-P; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Samsa" by Teniwoha; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Servant of Evil" by MOTHY; feat. Kagamine Len (with Kagamine Rin)

"sick" by Yuyoyuppe; feat. Natsuki Karin

"SLoWMoTIoN" by Pinocchio-P; feat. Hatsune Miku (with Yukkuri)

"Synchronicity Second Chapter ~Paradise of Light and Shadow~" by teamOS; feat. Kagamine Rin & Len

"The Fox's Wedding" by masa; feat. Hatsune Miku and GUMI

"The Tailor of Enbizaka" by MOTHY; feat. Megurine Luka

"Tokyo Teddy Bear" by Neru; feat. Kagamine Rin

"Unhappy Refrain" by wowaka; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Villain" by Teniwoha; feat. flower

"WILDFIRE!!" by CIRCRUSH; feat. GUMI

"Yowamushi Mont Blanc" by DECO*27; feat. GUMI

"Zanelli" by Teniwoha; feat. flower

ADVANCING TO PRELIMINARIES:

"*Hello, Planet." by sasakure.UK; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Abstract Nonsense" by Neru; feat. Kagamine Rin

"All I Need are Things I Like" by Pinocchio-P; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Alter Ego" by Misumi; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Arifureta Sekai Seifuku" by Pinocchio-P; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Blessed Messiah and the Tower of AI" by teamOS; feat. Hatsune Miku, Kagamine Len, Kagamine Rin, Megurine Luka, Camui Gackpo, GUMI, IA, MAYU, MEIKO, and KAITO

"BRING IT ON" by Giga-P; feat. Kagamine Rin & Len (with MEIKO)

"Can't I Even Dream" by Fumii; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Children Record" by Jin; feat. IA

"Crazy ∞ nighT" by teamOS; feat. Hatsune Miku, Kagamine Len, Kagamine Rin, GUMI, Camui Gackpo, Megurine Luka, KAITO, and MEIKO

"Datte" by Yuyoyuppe; feat. Natsuki Karin

"DEAD HAND" by Ferry; feat. Yuzuki Yukari

"Doctor=Funk Beat" by nyanyannya; feat. KAITO (with maimie, Shindou Gaku, Amaoto Junca, and Dashio)

"Dreaming Chuchu" by emon(Tes.); feat. Megurine Luka (with Hatsune Miku and Kagamine Rin)

"Drowning in a Wave of Sadness" by Neru; feat. Kagamine Len

"Electric Angel (Giga-P Arrangement)" by Yasuo-P and Giga-P; feat. Kagamine Rin & Len

"Fake Fake Psychotropic" by Kairiki Bear; feat. GUMI

"Gehenna" by wotaku; feat. Hatsune Miku

"hand" by Avogado6; feat. Asane Ema

"Hate it Hate it! Huge Ego!" by Wada Takeaki; feat. Otomachi Una

"Hatsune Miku No Gekishou" by CosMo; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Heart Democracy" by Mikito-P; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Heavenly You" by LonePi; feat. REML

"HITO mania" by Haraguchi Sasuke; feat. Kasane Teto

"Honey I'm Home" by GHOST; feat. DEX

"Hungry Nicole" by Niru Kajitsu; feat. flower

"Hyperventilation Dance" by Nashimoto We; feat. Hatsune Miku

"I’m Gonna Buy! Buy! Buy! " by Signal-E; feat. Luo Tianyi

"iNSaNiTY" by CircusP and Azuralunar; feat. KAITO and SF-A2

"Jailbreak" by Neru; feat. Kagamine Rin

"Jitterbug" by Kuriyama Yuri; feat. Hatsune Miku and MEIKO

"Kaisei" by Orangestar; feat. IA

"Kakome, Kakome" by Zawazawa-P; feat. Hatsune Miku and Megurine Luka

"Karakuri Pierrot " by 40mP; feat. Hatsune Miku (with GUMI)

"Kimagure Mercy" by Hachioji-P and q*Left; feat. Hatsune Miku

"LIAR DANCE" by DECO*27; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Love Me, Love Me, Love Me" by Kikuo; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Love! Snow! Really Magic" by Mitchie M; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Machine Gun" by KIRA; feat. GUMI

"Magic Mirror" by teamOS; feat. Kagamine Rin & Len

"makka" by Yuyoyuppe; feat. Natsuki Karin

"Marshall Maximizer" by Hiiragi Magnetite; feat. KAFU

"Mermaid" by Somari; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Meteor" by Jonsann; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Mind Brand" by MARETU; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Mirage" by Harumaki Gohan; feat. Hatsune Miku

"MONSTER" by KIRA; feat. GUMI

"Mozaik Role" by DECO*27; feat. GUMI

"Neo-Neon" by DECO*27 and TeddyLoid; feat. Hatsune Miku (with Shiho)

"Nobody Makes Sense" by Pinocchio-P; feat. Hatsune Miku

"oyasumination" by ippo.tsk; feat. Eleanor Forte

"Parade of Mediocre People" by Wada Takeaki; feat. Otomachi Una

"Play" by shr; feat. Kagamine Rin

"Play" by Itsuki (cover); feat. Matusdappoiyo

"Propose" by HoneyWorks; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Proto Disco" by nulut; feat. flower (with KurageP, Bis, MatuMotoMoti, *Shimi, nulut)

"Reckless Battery Burns" by GHOST and Vane; feat. Kevin

"Reincarnation Apple" by Pinocchio-P; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Remote Control" by WONDERFUL☆OPPORTUNITY; feat. Kagamine Rin & Len

"ROKI" by Mikito-P; feat. Kagamine Rin and Mikito-P

"RRRRafflesia" by Utsu-P; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Sand Planet" by Hachi; feat. Hatsune Miku (with Hachi)

"Schadenfreude" by Guchiry; feat. Otomachi Una

"Seraphim on the Ring" by Mitchie M; feat. Hatsune Miku, Kagamine Rin, KAITO (with Kagamine Len)

"Shunran" by john; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Spinning Sky Rabbit" by Orangestar; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Spinning Song" by DATEKEN; feat. Kagamine Rin & Len

"Super Nuko World" by Mafumafu; feat. IA (with Kagamine Rin)

"SUSHI-GO-ROUND" by Utsu-P; feat. ROSE

"Tell Your World" by kz; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Teo" by Omoi; feat. Hatsune Miku (with Kagamine Rin, GUMI, IA)

"Testament" by Hiiragi Magnetite; feat. Hatsune Miku

"The Last Revolver" by MOTHY; feat. GUMI

"The Liar Witch and Gray Rainbow" by Soraru; feat. Hatsune Miku

"The Madness of Duke Venomania" by MOTHY; feat. Camui Gackpo (with KAITO, GUMI, MEIKO, Megurine Luka, and Hatsune Miku)

"Town of Jade" by Mel; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Triple Baka" by LamazeP; feat. Hatsune Miku (with Kasane Teto)

"Unfriendly Hater" by Meddmia; feat. Hatsune Miku and KAFU

"Unicorn" by Teniwoha; feat. flower

"Vampire" by DECO*27; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Vita" by Hiiragi Kirai; feat. flower

"Waltz of Anomalies" by Hoehoe-P; feat. Hatsune Miku

"Weenywalker" by youman; feat. GUMI

"Witch" by Suzuki-P and Ryotai; feat. Megurine Luka (with Camui Gackpo, Kagamine Len, Kagamine Rin, Hatsune Miku)

"World is Mine" by ryo; feat. Hatsune Miku

"You’re Telling Me A SHRIMP Fried This Rice?!" by Jamie Paige; feat. Hatsune Miku

I'll release a list of honorable mentions (songs that i really like but didnt advance u_u) after the prelims with the final bracket.

#vocaloid tournament #music #vocaloid #utau #poll tournament #polls #poll #poll tournaments #tumblr poll #tumblr polls #submissions #brackets

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