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carooosa · 1 year ago

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Shadows and Strings

Summary: After waking up from a nightmare, you and your party set out on a side quest. You heal Astarion with your magic, but instead of coming from a spell, it comes from the music you play. Word Count: 4k

Tags: AstarionxTav, AstarionxReader, Astarionxbard!Tav, Astarionxsorcerer!Tav

A/N: This is my first fanfic so please be nice. I have many more chapters planned. I plan on this being a slow burn.

For as long as you remember, music came naturally to you. When you were a child, you would hum along with the wind and birds while doing chores. Every mundane task became a pleasant one as you would create symphonies in your mind. While life wasn’t always easy, it was bearable with a melody. Your fondest memories always had some type of music involved…

With the rain as your percussion, you prepared dinner with your mother as your father worked at a nearby inn. The steady rolling boil of the stew that simmered in front of you created a beat with each pop of a bubble; your mother’s quick mincing of vegetables filling out the beat. The sweet smell of citrus and herbs filled the room. As you started to toss the cut vegetables into the pot, you began to hum a tune.

A simple, smooth melody that came from your heart intertwined with the aroma of the stew, filling all of your senses. You made your way over to the spice rack to grab a handful of Balsam, adding a flourish in your tune when the herb fell into the pot. As your mother chopped the last carrot, you finished your impromptu song with a sigh.

“You always know how to add extra flavor to whatever we’re doing, pumpkin,” your mother said while smiling at you with endearment in her eyes.

“You always tell me to find the joys in the small things, and music always brings me joy, so why not add music to the small things?” you reply before quickly tasting your creation. “Perfect” you think as you go to grab some bowls for serving.

As if a practiced routine, your father runs inside right as you place the last bowl on the table, drenched from the rain and out of breath. After setting aside his coat to dry, he turns to you and warmth fills his eyes.

“Don’t tell me the two most beautiful people in my life made my favorite meal,” he asks while quickly making his way over to the table. “This is exactly what I need after a long day of work and an even longer walk home.” Although your father never expressly said it, you notice the tiredness in his eyes and body. Ever since your family had left Elturel in search of a healer for your mother, life has presented you with more struggles.

Since your family never stayed in one town for more than a couple of months, it was hard for your father to get a well paying job. A trip that would normally take no more than two weeks had become one that was taking well over a couple of years. Your mother wasn’t able to travel far before needing at least a month of recovery, during which your father would find a job and replenish your savings. You had already been at this current town for 4 months, which was the longest rest stop so far.

Your mother had been helping around the house more this past week. Late at night as you slept in the secluded area that was deemed the bedroom, you would hear your parents whisper to each other about leaving.

“We can’t leave just yet, Marls. We barely have enough money to pay for our current living situation, let alone enough for supplies,” your father said in a soft, hushed tone. “I know we need to take advantage of you feeling well enough to move around, I just need to stay with this job for a couple of more weeks and then we can go.”

You didn’t hear your mother’s reply, instead hearing your parents’ footsteps approaching the bedroom. You quickly feigned sleep as your parents laid down on their bedroll. Although they’ve been having more disagreements lately, they never went to bed angry at each other.

When you awoke the next morning, your father was already gone for work. Making your way to the main room, your mother was also gone. As panic started to work its way up to your throat from your stomach, the door to your home swung open. Your mother leaned against the frame with an excited smile on her face, her hands behind her back hiding something.

“Pumpkin,” she wheezed, “I know you love music. I know that you would love to be able to see a performance, I would, too.” The words came out of your mother’s mouth in a flurry. “And I need to make sure you know just how much your father and I appreciate your help. You are so mature and never ask for much. Which is not right. You’re my kid, you should be asking me for toys and treats and whatever the hells you want.”

Your mother looked down at the ground for a second before taking a deep breath and pushing herself off of the door frame. “I’ve been telling the druid that’s been helping me with my condition about how talented you are. How you can make songs out of nothing. How I feel awful for not being able to help you pursue this talent,” she paused, revealing the instrument she had hidden behind her back. “She told me to stop my fretting, and to give you this.”

In your mother’s hands lay a lute. It wasn’t brand new, and it had chips in the wooden neck. One of the strings was too loose. Even still, it was the most beautiful instrument that you’ve ever seen.

“Now, pumpkin, this lute isn’t free,” your mother said as she handed you the well-loved instrument, “there is a price that you specifically will need to pay. The druid will be coming over later to show your father how to help aid me, and she said that she would love to hear you play.”

“But I don’t know how!” you exclaimed quickly, hugging the lute to your chest for comfort.

“Oh sweetheart, I see the talent in you. I know that you’re capable.” Your mother said as she sat down at the table.

Without saying anything else, you ran to the bedroom and started to practice. It was weird, at first, figuring out how to place your fingers on the neck of the lute, determining how much pressure to put on the strings in order to change the note. But as the hours passed, you became more confident. Certain notes were definitely easier than others, and with the few you felt comfortable with you were able to create a soothing tune.

You could hear your father come through the front door with the voice of another woman. You ran out of the bedroom to see the woman giving your mother a hug before her eyes snapped to you. “This must be the musical prodigy I’ve heard so much about!”

“Come here darling,” your mother says as she pulls out a chair, “this is Shiela, the druid I told you about.”

The evening begins the same as it always does, with small talk and dinner, except this time with a guest awaiting entertainment. You quickly finish your meal and then sit in your chair, fidgeting anxiously. When your father and the druid, Shiela, finish eating, she begins to teach your father about balms and salves that would help your mother in certain situations.

As Shiela finished her lesson, your mother urged you to go and get your recent gift. After retrieving the lute, you came back to see the dining table chairs arranged in a row, like an audience, and one chair facing them. Nerves hit your chest sharply as you made your way to the makeshift stage. Your father had his arm wrapped around your mother, the tiredness gone from his eyes, instead replaced with anticipation. The druid sat on the other side of your mother and looked at you with a knowing look in her eyes.

Your mother sat on the edge of her seat, a wide smile spread across her face. Slowly, you set your fingers to the first note of the tune you had played earlier, your other hand preparing to strum the strings. The nerves in your chest had grown, threatening to suffocate you with the thickness they created in your throat. Your mother began anxiously tapping her foot against the floor, and while your father’s face flashed with annoyance, the rhythmic beat gave you the encouragement you needed to strum.

Although the tempo was faster than you had briefly practiced, your fingers were able to keep up. Your father looked at you in astonishment, your mother’s eyes started to tear, and the druid was waving her hands when a burst of blue light came out from her fingertips and began to dance around you. With the new visual sensation, you began to vocalize. Your father began to clap his hands to the beat you had set. The nerves from earlier had faded and instead turned into something new, something refreshing. While the feeling before left you gasping for air, this new sensation felt like the first breath you ever took.

You stood up and started to move around the room, unable to sit still as the music filled your heart. Your father lifted your mother up and began to dance with her, the druid taking over the job of clapping to the beat. As your song came to an end, a new color of dancing light appeared: a bright orange. You looked at the druid, and all that she gave you was a wink.

When you looked back to the orange light, it had turned into a fire. A fire that began to frantically spin around the room. You turned back around and tried to find your parents and the druid, but they were gone. The fire had grown now, creating a wall of flames around you that slowly closed inwards. The smell of sulfur and burnt wood filled your nose and throat as you screamed.

“Aw shit, I did it again! Why do eggs burn so easily,” the red tiefling barbarian who was known to set things on fire asked.

“Chtk. If these eggs are too fragile to withstand some mere heat, then they are not worthy to be eaten,” the githyanki who sat on a nearby log replied.

As the wizard who was the designated chef quickly put out the fire with a frost bolt, you regained your senses and remembered where you were. It had been a week since the nautiloid ship had crashed, leaving you and your five companions with tadpoles inside your heads. You had each been taken from your lives and imprisoned on the ship, a mind flayer putting tadpoles in your brains in order to convert you into one as well. While it wasn’t a conventional team, you guys had decided that it would be better to try and remove the tadpoles with allies as opposed to by yourselves.

“Thank gods I don’t have to eat whatever that is,” Astarion, the rogue who turned out to be a vampire, said while shooting you a quick glance from his book. Three days ago you had awoken to the vampire hovering over you with snarled teeth. After a short explanation, you had agreed to let him drink from you. It had taken him by surprise, but he didn’t argue as he repositioned himself to sink his teeth into your neck. While you may have come off as eager, you didn’t mind as you were excited to have your skin broken.

Before the nautiloid you had been an object of entertainment, kept away from the hands of others in order to prevent you from being tainted. Your hands quickly reached up to the two pinpricks on your neck. After the first night Astarion fed on you, you told him that he could feed on you every night, if need be. He suggested changing the feeding spots each time in order to avoid scarring, but you had assured him that it would be better to do it in the same spot. You didn’t tell him, but you wanted the bite to scar.

Unfortunately for you, there were side effects to having your blood drained each night. There was always a dull pain in the crook of your neck, and you had begun to get sloppy in your fighting. You could tell your companions were beginning to get frustrated with you, especially after you had convinced them to traverse the Sunlit Wetlands in order to find proof of Kagha’s betrayal.

You didn’t necessarily want to get involved in whatever drama was going on in the grove, but you did hear of a special amulet that would cure your bloodlessness and get your strength back to what it was before you had come to whatever strange arrangement you had with Astarion. The only problem was that with all the uneasiness in the grove, and the fact that you were a tiefling, you were unable to search for the amulet without eyes following you around. And you didn’t exactly want to explain to random people who already looked down on you why you were looking for this piece of jewelry.

You got up from your bedroll, making sure to avoid Astarion’s gaze, and made your way over to the campfire, offering your help with whatever you could.

“Unless you have a song that can unfreeze and unburn this egg, I don’t think there’s much that can be done at this point,” Gale said with a sigh, regretting that he agreed to Karlach making breakfast. The red tiefling noticed this and began to shift uneasily beside him.

“Unfortunately I do not, but I can whip up a song to mourn the sacrifice this egg made,” you joked. Gale’s face lightened up as he chuckled, prompting Karlach to loosen up and join in as well.

“While it may have ended up in a few inedible eggs,” she said while tossing the burnt food into a pile of other burnt food, “at least I had fun. Thanks, Gale, I know how much you care about cooking.”

You admittedly weren’t the best fighter, but you were always able to ease the tension in your camp. You weren’t able to end fights, but you could at least prevent them sometimes.

As your group packed the supplies and began to determine the best route to the wetlands, you looked at the hastily written note you had found in the hidden corner of the druid’s library. Kagha. Swamp-docks. Tree. Meet me. Alone. -Olodan it read. You weren’t entirely sure what this note meant, or if it could even help you with what was going on in the grove, but you decided that this was the best bet you had at getting that amulet.

You joined the rest of the group and pointed out the directions you had. You had already made it into the beginning of the Wetlands yesterday, not before running into a skirmish between an elderly woman you had met in the grove and two men who claimed she stole their sister. You told the two that they were on their own as your group had other pressing matters. After they left, Shadowheart came up to you.

“I’ve got to say that I’m honestly quite surprised that you didn’t want to help them. Not that I disagree, we do have more ‘pressing matters at hand’,” she said while mimicking your mannerisms, “I can’t help but wonder why we’re going out of our way to help the grove then.”

It was a valid question. You had originally convinced the group that it was the right and just thing to do, to help those in need. And now you were blatantly telling someone in need that you were too busy to help them.

“Nettie mentioned a powerful Druid named Halsin. He might be able to get rid of these things in our head.”

Astarion was quick to question you again. “So then why aren’t we going to save him from those dreadful goblins?”

You shot him a glare that he met with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t think that the grove will be able to maintain peace by the time we get to Halsin and back.” Your answer seemed reasonable, so you thought.

“Who cares about the grove? Once we get to Halsin, we can have him remove the tadpoles right then and there, before he knows what’s happening in his beloved grove.” Astarion shot back.

“Trust me, Astarion,” you sneered his name, “I know how druids are. They will always take care of what they hold dear first before helping others. The best chance we have at getting him to help us is to take care of the grove problem before we see him.” That had been enough to convince the group to follow your lead into the wetlands, although whether it be for your rationale or for the harsh tone and sharp glare you gave Astarion, they wouldn’t say.

Now here you were the next day, leading everyone further into the uncharacteristically beautiful swamp. As you spotted what appeared to be docks, you heard an all too familiar whine from behind you. “Are you actually going to make me ruin my clothes in all this mud instead of doing the reasonable thing and finding that druid?”

You chose to ignore Astarion’s remark, instead turning to everyone. “As soon as we find… whatever it is we’re looking for, we’ll go back to the grove. I promise that it’ll be worth it. You guys can just stay here, I won’t be gone long.” While you went on your way, the rest of the party all looked at Astarion. There had been a silent agreement made between everyone that someone would always have to go with you whenever you went off somewhere, as you were known to get distracted or fall into a fight fairly often.

“What are you all looking at me for? Tav is a perfectly capable being who can handle their own problems,” Astarion said while crossing his arms and positioning himself to face away from the group.

“We’ve all been taking our turns looking after them, it’s about time that you start being useful around here,” Wyll spat. “Besides, if it weren’t for Tav, I would’ve slain you as soon as I learnt of your undead nature.”

With a scoff and an eye roll, Astarion started to follow you, mumbling under his breath about the whole party being wild beasts who don’t care about their hygiene. As you walked along the docks, carefully jumping over larger patches of mud, a mud mephit buzzed past your face. Without thinking, you grabbed the shortsword that hung on your hip, quickly killing it. The mephit exploded as your sword slashed it, spraying thick mud onto you and your silent stalker behind you.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Astarion groaned, causing you to turn around and point your weapon towards him. Before you could say anything, your attention was taken away when the gurgling and bubbling of the mud puddle left behind from the dead mephit morphed into a new one.

You knew in an instant that you had, yet again, bit off more than you could chew. Everytime you would kill one of these creatures, one to two could spawn from its place. You needed to find whatever it was that was near that tree and leave as soon as possible. The only problem was that the person who was most likely to evade these creatures was the one who had been the most resistant to pursue this little side quest.

“Astarion, you need to go to that tree and find the evidence while I take care of the swarm,” you commanded as you cast a spell that froze some of the enemies.

“Me? Why can’t you do it?” He asked, shocked and quite offended that you would even consider asking him to ruin his clothes further..

“Just go, Astarion!” The frozen mephits were beginning to thaw. “It’s the least you could do,” the words after I’ve let you drink my blood the past few nights left unsaid as you prepared another spell.

He groaned once more before sidestepping past you and running through the swarm of mephits. As he got closer to the tree, his eyes began to frantically scan the bark for any hint of something out of place before finding a groove in the wood that held a small pouch, a crumpled piece of paper inside. He hoped this was the piece of evidence you were looking for, as he was not going to spend one more second in the squelching mud.

While Astarion was grabbing the evidence, you cast cloud of knives into the heart of the swarm. It instantly killed two of the creatures, which upon exploding killed three more. The victory was short lived as seven new mephits started to emerge from the mud.

“Really, Tav? Was that the smartest idea?” Astarion yelled at you as he dashed through the growing swarm. As he made his way back to the docks, a mephit attacked, slashing his side. He faltered for a moment before continuing towards you, one hand clutched to the stinging wound.

You both ran into the wetlands until you were sure you were out of sight, breathing heavily as you regained your composure. As you supported yourself against a tree, you noticed Astarion wincing as he moved his hand from his wound, a greenish sludge mixed in with his blood. “Here, let me heal you,” you said while picking up your lute from behind you.

“I don’t need your help, thanks,” he spat at you, “I’ll just have Shadowheart heal me like she always does.” He began to walk away, stopping when he heard the strings of the lute being plucked. He chuckled, “Now darling, while I do appreciate the sentiment behind ‘music healing the soul’, now really isn’t the time for a serena-” his words stopped in his mouth as he noticed a faint orange glow around the instrument.

The lute seemed to emanate a soft, otherworldly glow, its strings bathed in ethereal light. Golden trails of light followed your fingers as you concentrated on the hymn. Astarion took a step towards you, entranced by the soothing melody and dancing lights. The trail of light from your fingers began to grow as it reached up towards him, circling around his waist until it seeped into his open cut. As you finished the song, the light left your fingers and continued along the trail up to Astarion’s wound before disappearing completely. You opened your eyes to find the vampire staring at you with an open mouth.

“What was that?” he asked.

Unable to answer, you changed the subject. “Did you find anything?”

“Yes, this pouch with a piece of trash in it – but don’t change the subject; what was that you just did? I feel…” he paused, taking in the warmth that had seeped into his skin from the song you had played, “... refreshed,” he said, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“It’s just something that I learned when I was younger,” you said quietly before pushing yourself off the tree and grabbing the pouch in his hands. Not wanting to talk about it, you began walking back towards the voices of your group.

“Well, I must say that whatever it was, was more rejuvenating than Shadowheart’s healing spells. Not as much as your delicious blood,” he said, voice thick with flirtation, “but beggars can’t be choosers, as they say.”

Your response was a brief nod and a grunt, and the two of you returned to the group in silence.

#bg3 #astarion x tav #bg3 shadowheart #bg3 astarion #bg3 lae'zel #bg3 karlach #bg3 wyll #bg3 gale

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veryfandomobsessed · 4 months ago

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Finally, a blog introduction!

About Me!

Hi! You can call me DJ or VFO! I am a minor, older than 4 of course so please stay aware of that. The only Socials I have are just a Tumblr and a Discord. But if I ever do get more I will add it here! I love all types of animation, mostly cartoons and stuff but I will probably have a main focus on a show but that doesn't mean I don't still love the others. Something that I will also do is draw my persona, usually in response to an ask but it represents basically my reaction to things, and yes sometimes I will be lazy and not draw the glasses and sometimes I will so interpret it how you wanna. I am definitely a big music freak so if you wanna suggest anything I'm all ears! I am Latina but I do not know Spanish despite me taking it for 5+ years but currently I've been learning Japanese. I also love plenty of stuff in the ocean and anything that's ancient lookin. I'm pretty laid back but somehow also hyper and I could yap about a character or something specific for hours, but I can hold back. I can't really think of anything else to say about myself so..

About the blog!

I started this blog about 2 years ago and it has been quite the journey from where I started to where I am now, with posting nothing to actually starting to serve up the art that I brew up. This is quite a multi-fandom Art Blog that might focus more on one thing more than others so just a heads up. Enjoy your time here and request stuff when my requests are open! If my ask box says requests closed, it doesn't mean you can't ask me questions. Spam liking is fine, don't worry if your doing to much, it's silly to see!!! Maybe sometime in the future I might make another blog for whatever, specific art, an ask blog, anything along those lines, there will also be occasional reblogs from some of my folk, not folk, and chains.This account is SFW!!

My Art!

Noticeably I put "VFO" on all my pieces of art that I post, if any of it gets reposted or taken without credit please let me know! I work hard on some of the art I do. Adding to the requests things I am busy and don't always have the time or energy to draw them, so if I have time and energy to I will do them! I also might do commissions sooner or later when I figure out a good way to do it. I do both traditional and digital, I mainly use my finger on my phone to draw but I'm trying to do stuff more on a tablet and such! Everyday I'm doing more to improve my art and try to learn as much as I can. My art style ranges a lot but I do try and keep it consistent. sometimes it can look like an entirely different person drew it but whether I draw something cutesy one day and something intense the next day I swear it's still me,I'm just trying to find what style or thingy I'm more used to. Only occasionally there will be blood and stuff included in my art but I will always but a TW to make sure people have a heads up. I also typically use more lighter colors for my drawings but sometimes I will change it so the lines are harsher (ex: black instead of the usual brown I use). You are free to ask me for tips and tricks or questions you have about my art because I love helping and giving some creative ideas!

Thats it!

I hope you have a wonderful Day or Night wherever you may be! Or mid day! Or evening! Military time hour your at!!!

Extra info below:

Discord

To be able to contact my discord, you would have to be somebody who I've interacted with before and I know you're safe to chat with. you can send me your tag in asks WITHOUT being anonymous or in the Tumblr chat so it is clear and confirmed. it is completely my choice if I decide to add you or not.

If there is more info I can think about, I will add it in my next edit, this was made 7/31/24.

Recent Edit: none

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kah-way-loh · 1 year ago

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The process of plushifying a 2005 Furby- under a read more so it doesn't clog the tag!

Firstly, I'd recommend starting with either FurbyTech or WalrusFurb's posts... or ideally both! These both give a better understanding of what a 2005 Furby looks like internally and how it's pieced together. My Furby, Pitaya, came to me broken to a severe degree and I didn't realize until I skinned her and plastic shards started falling out of her like confetti! Her fur was also stubborn, not wanting to come loose from the tabs all over... but I managed!

After the fur and feet are free, you can give them a wash. I opted to use a fursuit disinfectant spray instead since I already cleaned her in the past. I then sewed the feet to the main body with a ladder stitch after screwing the plastic of them together

Once you've removed the shells, you can work on taking out the eye mechanism. Since Pitaya was already so busted up, it took a short time to separate everything. Just a lot of screws to remove! And a lot of sharp plastic edges

[Image description: the blinking mechanism of a 2005 Furby, separate from the rest of the internal hardware. The eyes are open. End ID.]

Now, I don't like using hot glue or super glue. But for this, it was necessary to glue the lower eyelids in place to keep that structure from falling off. Aside from the now immobile lower lids, the rest of the eyes can still move freely!

Next was... the beak. Always my least favorite part of plushifying a Furby. I wanted to keep the mobility, so I created an armature with copper wire and set some cut toothpicks in place. Those didn't want to stay in place, so I, again, had no choice but to bust out the super glue and some beads

[Image descriptions: different angles of a 2005 Furby's beak with a handmade hinge mechanism made from copper wire, toothpicks, and wood beads. End ID.]

To attach that to the fur, I had to weave the same wire through the faceplate and the makeshift hinge. The smart way would be to use a heated tool to melt the holes in the plastic... I instead just jabbed an awl through and prayed it didn't break (PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO IT THE SMART WAY). While I was at it, I also did the same thing for the eyes and sewed some spare fabric over the back of the beak to keep stuffing from leaking through

[Image description: the inside-out fur of a 2005 Furby, with the handmade back mechanism attached and white fleece sewn over it. An extra wire on each side of the eye sockets has been pierced through the plastic faceplate. End ID.]

Now, I'm not sure if every 2005 has this, but Pitaya had a tab that held the fur to her face right above the beak, so I went ahead and used that as well as reinforced it with the wires. Without those wires the eyes would be very wobbly and not stay put

Finally I could flip her right side out, stuff her, and stitch her closed! Except I ran out of polyfill... so I'll leave her Velcro section open for now. But for the most part she's done!

[Image descriptions: a stuffed white and pink 2005 Passionfruit Furby. The first image has her eyes and beak closed, the second has her eyes open, the third has both her eyes and beak open, and the fourth is a profile view with her eyes and beak open. End ID.]

Okay so. Overall I absolutely love the end result, but the process was a 0/10 for me. I wouldn't do it again because 2005s are not easy to disassemble in the slightest and it was just a nightmare on my aching hands. I also probably did it in the most roundabout way to limit the amount of super glue I used (I'm sensitive to the smell of it) which added to the complication. Part of me wishes I actually sculpted or at least covered the beak, but I knew I was going to have a hard enough time with it so I didn't bother. For what it's worth, she still looks like a normal 2005 aside from the lumpy stuffing! I need to get more soon for other projects anyway

Feel free to try this if you're ambitious and committed enough, and try finding your own ways to make it easier!

#tj taulks #furby #furby fandom #furby community #furblr #allfurby #f: pitaya #plush furby #i literally put my blood into this project from the number of times i injured myself with a sewing needle and awl #so i won't be selling her for that reason even though i washed it right away #i've done more than enough sewing for this year. my hands need a break 💔

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tyfinn · 1 year ago

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A Hamlet in the Sand

@mallpretzles Summer Word Challenge: Sand Castle

And thanks for the tag, friend! Last week's and this week's fic can also be found here.

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"Ooh! Thank you, Marcy! This is delicious!" David took a long sip of the fresh-squeezed lemonade that Marcy made earlier in the day.

"I'm so happy you like it, David! I'll be sure to pack some extra lemons for you boys before you head home!" She sat down in the blue Adirondack next to David.

Clint and Marcy invited Patrick and David to the lake house for the weekend. It has been a picture-perfect weekend; one David will be talking about for weeks to come. Between taking long walks by the lake with his husband, eating s'mores by the campfire, and taste-testing Marcy’s latest recipes, David honestly did not know which one he liked more.

Currently, he was lounging on the large back porch, sipping lemonade with his mother-in-law, enjoying the cool morning, and watching Clint and Patrick play in the sand. At least, that was what it looked like to David what they were doing.

"How long do you think they'll be out there?" David asked. He raised his white sunglasses up so that he could take a better look. From their vantage point, it was impossible to tell what his husband and father-in-law were constructing.

"Oh, until they are done, I guess. I remember the first summer we stayed here. Every morning, the first thing Patrick would do was check on the sand castles he made the day before. One afternoon Clint joined him, and they were out there until dark building an entire sand castle village! I’m sure I have pictures somewhere!” she laughed. “Have you seen what they are up to?"

David shook his head. "Nope. Apparently, I am forbidden to go down there until they are done."

"That's ridiculous! They've been down there for over three hours, and it's almost time for lunch. Come on. I'll bring them some lemonade as my ruse!"

As they walked closer, Patrick met them halfway. He greeted David with a peck on his cheek, careful not to get any sand on him. “Perfect timing! I was just going to get you to take a look. It’s not quite done yet, but there should be enough for you to tell what it is!” Patrick ran ahead as David and Marcy followed.

Clint was sitting on the small beach making the finishing touches that David could tell was a house. Patrick stood in front of what was a very elaborate little village.

Their little village.

David looked at his husband and tucked a small smile into his cheek. “What did you do?” he asked his husband. Although there were still some details that needed to be added, David could clearly tell what Patrick and his dad created was the main street of Schitt’s Creek. There was the Apothecary, Bob’s Garage, Twyla’s Cafe Tropical, the Town Hall, and the Rosebud Motel. It was at that moment he knew what Clint was working on. Their cottage.

“How did you- Patrick, this is truly beautiful.” Somehow, Patrick and Clint were able to capture the beauty of their little town in sand.

Patrick snuck up behind his husband and wrapped his arms around David’s waist and kissed his neck. “You like it, then?”

David nodded. “It truly is incredible. I love it.” Patrick lightly smacked David on his ass before he ran back to put those finishing touches on his main street.

It never ceases to amaze David how Patrick has this uncanny ability to make the ordinary extraordinary. By recreating their little town in sand, David is reminded, yet again, that they made the right decision to make their home in that little town.

#summer word challenge #schitt’s creek fanfic #david x patrick

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alifeasvivid · 6 months ago

Text

Companionship, a UK/nyo!US Firefly AU; Explicit

Rating: Explicit Warnings/Tags: smut, self-inflicted intoxication, nipple piercings, virginity kink, oral sex, vaginal sex, a faulty degree of self-indulgence Summary: The unresolved sexual tension between Amelia Jones, captain of the firefly class ship Liberty, and high class registered companion, Arthur, finally breaks after an evening at a bar in the Eavesdown docks. Word count: ~8600

Important Notes: if you're not familiar with the TV show Firefly, please read:

Set a future where Earth is dead, humans terraform other planets and travel between them is fairly standard. The show revolves around the crew of Serenity, a firefly class ship, that takes odd jobs to make a living. Sometimes what they do is… a little outside of legal. It's like a sci-fi western about space pirates.

The main thing you need to know is this: registered companions are legal, legitimized sex workers. They have a school and everything and they are considered high status. The only companions ever shown are women, so I've added some extra lore and allowed for men to also take on the job.

With that, please enjoy ^-^

Arthur sits quietly at the bar, perched elegantly with one leg crossed over the other, merely observing. He sips from a glass of whiskey—not exactly the quality he was once accustomed to on Xenon, but the slight burn is pleasant enough all the same.

He hasn’t dared to drink in public in a very long time, but with the rest of the crew here, with the Captain here, he feels safe enough to have this small indulgence. His clothes—a black sleeveless top which bares his midriff, including his dangling, gold navel ring with three sparkling red garnets, accompanied by loose fitting pants and open jacket both of a rich emerald silk with gold embroidery and dark red trim—certainly make him stand out in a dive bar at the Eavesdown docks, to say nothing of the gold bracelets and chains which adorn his hands that indicate his profession, yet no one bothers him.

He smiles to himself as he watches Kiku positively trounce Greta at a game of pool, while Feliciana cheers Greta on, giving her a kiss every time she misses a shot.

Alfred is throwing darts with some other bar patrons and, despite being obviously buzzed, is doing rather well if the cash his opponents keep shoving into an empty glass while scowling is any indication.

Meanwhile, Gilbert, Matthew, and Amelia are huddled around a table and they’ve each taken a couple shots already and it’s starting to show. The trio laughs raucously at periodic intervals, but even in their collective inebriated state, each of them looks up now and then to survey and assess their surroundings and also keep eyes on the other crew members… and Arthur.

They’re quite obvious about it, as well as their myriad weapons, which is likely why no one is bothering him, not to mention the fact that his calibre shown by his particular jewelry indicates that his rates are far above what anyone in this bar could afford.

When Amelia next looks up, Arthur deliberately locks eyes with her, holding her tipsy blue gaze for too long to say it’s inadvertent, but even though her cheeks are quite pink, she’s clearly not as drunk as Gilbert and Matthew are. Of course she wants to stay alert, to protect her people if necessary.

In watching her, Arthur notices that he isn’t the only one doing so. A group of men—they seem to be other travelers—prod at one of their rather handsome compatriots with urgent whispers and covert gestures toward Amelia. Arthur notes that he is the same one Amelia had been speaking with rather amiably earlier in the evening.

Arthur seethes, but stays outwardly unfazed and sips his drink. How gallingly hypocritical of him to be so possessive of her. Not only for the fact that he is a registered companion, but she has given him no claim on her. When anyone shows interest in her, he often tries to smugly console himself that even if she took them to bed, they could never satisfy her the way he could. It’s small consolation which primarily ends up only making him yearn desperately for the opportunity.

She has never brought anyone onto the ship, though there have been a few times that she lagged behind in returning to it while Gilbert and Matthew snickered to each other over it. Arthur has no actual information on any of her lovers or if she even has any, but she must. How could she not?

When Amelia gets up to get another drink, the man follows her, sliding some cash to the barman before Amelia can and beaming winningly at her. Her face reads as surprised and of course she is. She always is whenever someone shows sexual interest in her. Arthur has never met anyone that stunningly beautiful who is simultaneously so oblivious to it.

But then… that’s part of the reason he has fallen for her so irrevocably. She’s so artless and straightforward, often more so than she should be and Arthur can’t help but find it incredibly refreshing.

She’s talking to the man, possibly even flirting though it’s difficult for Arthur to tell with her back slightly turned to him.

Deciding he would rather not subject himself to the sight, Arthur pays his tab and moves toward the door. Sod it all.

“Kiku,” he signals to the pilot. “I think I’ll return to the ship. You lot will be along soon, yes?”

Kiku nods, “Yes, within the hour. Are you alright, Arthur-san?” they ask.

Arthur nods curtly. “Yes, only a bit of unease in my stomach. Must be this very fine whiskey. I just need to have a lie-down.” When he steps outside, he takes a deep breath. The air of the docks is not pleasant, per se, but to Arthur it will always smell like freedom. The night air is cool, but his body burns, the spark lit by Amelia. Something must be done. For the sake of his sanity.

Amelia notices Arthur leaving and internally sighs with relief. He insists on wearing his fine clothes and all that gold at all times, even to a seedy dockside bar. Even she has the good sense not to wear her brown duster in certain places. Arthur should take cues from any of the crew really; for example: her well-fitted tan breeches tucked into well-worn brown leather boots and fitted dark blue shirt are much more appropriate for this setting than all that gorgeous green silk he had on.

She smiles awkwardly at the guy trying to flirt with her. He had been decent company before, but his welcome had worn thin with her well before he approached her just now. Even while a bit tipsy like she is, she knows she wants nothing to do with him. “Listen. I’m really flattered and all, but we’re leaving in no more than an hour. I’ve got cargo that needs to get where it’s going.”

The guy looks miffed. He pouts. That’s only cute when Arthur does it, she thinks, especially since he’s never aware that he’s doing it.

“C’mon. I’m sure you could talk your captain into staying ’til daybreak. He’s gotta sleep it off, anyway,” he nods in the direction of Gil and Matthew.

Amelia grits her teeth. This goddamn bastard is now about five seconds from getting his teeth knocked out. “Say again,” she prompts.

“Your captain—”

She grabs him by his shirt collar and pulls him down to glare directly in his eyes. “First of all, piss pot, I already said no. Second. I’m the captain. I say where and when we go and I say we’re leaving right now and you can go to hell. Matthew!” she calls over to her first mate, “We’re leaving, pack it in.” She shoves the guy away from her.

Matthew stands up and signals to Greta, who takes Feliciana’s hand and hurries her to the door. Kiku walks calmly over to Alfred, collects his winnings and takes him by his shirt sleeve while he gloats and waves at his opponents. Gilbert follows all of them, followed by Matthew.

“Heh. I see how it is,” the man spits bitterly. “Guess it must be pretty nice having that whore waiting for you. Is that how he pays his fare?”

Amelia doesn’t think twice before decking him. “That ain’t none of your goddamn business,” she growls. “And you gotta be some ‘specially ignorant kinda back-birth to talk about companions like that.” She storms outside, hops onto the back of the four-wheeler with the her crew, and fumes all the way back to Liberty.

The night air cools her rage, but not her desires. Take-off calms her nerves; sailing through the black is where she feels most at ease, but still leaves a smoldering want. She would never—could never make Arthur service her to pay his rent, it wouldn’t be right to do that to anyone. She doesn’t want to be his client anyhow, she wants him to want her.

—

Arthur takes a long sip from his tea as he lets the memories of evening dissipate. The door to his shuttle is securely locked and he lounges freely, barely clothed, on his bed. The drugs in the tea will kick in shortly.

A usual, small dose of the potent aphrodisiac will render the drinker unbearably aroused and more open to suggestion; it is commonly used among companions for heightened pleasure, for clients who are for whatever reason a tad shy, and even to practice mild hypnosis. More than the usual dose will cause not only unbearable, ecstatic arousal, but also vivid fantasies bordering on hallucinations. Arthur has carefully dosed his tea with enough of the substance to reach this state.

Companions are trained to essentially “lucid dream” under its influence and Arthur intends to put that to good use.

It’s the only remedy he has at the moment for the all-consuming desire he feels for Amelia.

He can’t actually have her, by the rules he himself set down upon renting the shuttle on her firefly-class transport ship. And, his sensible side knows, those rules are best left in place.

He wants her in his bed anyway, not as a client, but as his.

Arthur is well-suited to the work and life of a companion; from a rather early age, his blood just seemed to run hot and he applied at the Academy in hopes of learning to control his rampant passions. Academy training had quite successfully done this and he remains among the highest ranking graduates ever to pass through those hallowed halls, so to speak. It was the best decision he could have made and he enjoys his job thoroughly. He prides himself on his expertise and his ability to turn his own desires on and off at will.

Amelia has robbed him of that last point of pride. She had vexed him at first with her brash demeanor, loud voice, outspoken opinions and sense of humor that sometimes borders on crude… yet now he loves all of it. All of her. What had vexed him before now charms him in the context of her warm laugh, her starry blue eyes, and her fierce loyalty and kindness. To say nothing, of course, of her perfect breasts, slender waist and strong thighs.

He wants her more than he has ever wanted anyone.

And he cannot turn it off. And he cannot make her his. And he cannot stand the thought of her in someone else’s arms.

But he can alleviate his ache.

As the drugs take effect, his mind constructs the most wonderful fantasies…

Arthur raps his knuckles gently against the door of her bunk. He knows full well that this would better done in his bed in the shuttle, but Amelia would feel like a client there.

“Yeah?” he hears her muffled voice call up.

“It’s me,” he says. “May I come in?”

A slight pause, yes of course she would hesitate, give herself a moment to try and put up her defenses.The most basic of Arthur’s seduction skills lie in reading people and Amelia is so utterly incapable of concealing her emotions that it is painfully easy to see how badly she wants him as well.

“Yeah,” she finally replies.

When Arthur climbs down, she is standing by her sink. Her chin-length strawberry blond hair is held back with a cloth headband so that she can wash her face. She’s wearing only an old, worn out, blue shirt and light, loose fitting pants he suspects she only just put on since they are backwards.

She pats her face dry with a towel and knocks the sink back into place with a single bump of her hip. She suspects nothing of his intentions. “What’s up?” she asks.

Arthur contemplates responding, but instead he simply closes the distance between them, places his fingers delicately along her jawline. He looks down at her intently, though she is barely shorter than he is, and kisses her, softly, just barely, but so passionately it makes his own head spin. He pulls away, hardly even lingering. It’s deliberately unsatisfying. She’s impulsive, he knows that too well, and she won’t be able to resist responding to his challenge.

And she doesn’t. Her hands leap up to cup his face and pull him into hungry kiss. Her lips are full and warm and perfect.

Arthur pushes the headband off, freeing her hair for him to run his fingers through. He quickly gains control of the kiss and backs her into the wall of her bunk. He releases her only long enough to latch his mouth to her neck. A companion should never mark anyone, but Arthur couldn’t care less at the moment and he nibbles and sucks a deep red bruise onto her skin. Everything is intuitive, based on her sighs and mewls and the way she tugs on his hair and that is more than enough. It’s everything.

“Ar-Arthur, mmm,” she moans, wrapping her leg around his waist so that his cock is pressed against her center and she gasps.

He groans, grinding against her, and pulls away to look at her, admire her with her pupils dilated and her face flushed. His thumbs caress her cheeks and he plants tiny kisses on her face and in her hair. She smells like heaven. “What do you want, Captain? You know you must tell me.”

Arthur absolutely knows what she would say in reality, she’d curse at him and tell him he knows goddamn well what she wants. But this isn’t reality and his mind wants to hear her say all her desires out loud.

She purrs when one of his hands slips under her shirt and the other into the plain cotton panties she had been trying to conceal. “God… I want you, Arthur. I want you to be mine. I want you to love me. Only me.”

Perfect. He slips one hand between her legs, savoring the intense heat and pressing one finger against her clit, rubbing in slow circles and drinking her soft cry. “And?” he prompts.

“I need you. I need you to make me come,” she practically whines as she squeezes leg tighter around his waist, encouraging him to slip his finger inside her. “I need you inside me, wanna ride your cock and—AH!—mmmmm, Arthur…”

A companion would never sate their client up against a wall like this, quickly and unceremoniously, with only their fingers. But Arthur doesn’t feel like a companion right now. For the first time in so long, he feels enslaved to his own passions; he could not stop himself from taking her even if he wanted to. He slips another finger into her, rubbing that spot and watching her intently as she gasps and clings to him. In all the years Arthur has been a companion, watching someone fall apart like this has never felt so brilliant. Gods, how he loves her.

“Oh fuck, Arthur,” she groans as she trembles through her orgasm. She clenches around his fingers and gushes into his palm as her head knocks back against the wall. “God yes…”

Arthur’s cock twitches against the fine silk of his robes. “Perfect,” he rasps, mouth suddenly parched and thirsty for her. He carefully withdraws his fingers from her over-sensitized entrance and traces them over his lips before drawing them into his mouth. “Mmmh,” he hums. She tastes divine.

Amelia makes a helpless, yet utterly sinful noise in the back of her throat. “Smug bastard,” she curses him with no malice and pushes him back onto her bed, diving after him—pausing only to remove her shirt and underwear. Her breasts are so full and perfect that there have been times in reality that he has barely restrained himself from begging her to let him touch.

She straddles him and makes quick work of his robes. “One nice thing about these fancy threads: they’re easy to get you out of. Though that’s the point, ain’t it?” She winks, but her eyes then widen slightly once she reveals his cock. “Fuck,” she mutters appreciatively.

His own lucid fantasy goes topsy turvy for moment when she engulfs the head in her mouth. He moans when she interlaces her fingers with his and gazes up at him. How her eyes manage to convey such innocence with his cock in her mouth is beyond him.

Amelia steadily works more and more of him into her mouth, humming and moaning as she goes. She’s unpolished, unpracticed and, gods, does it feel so fucking good. She gets about halfway down before she stops, drags her lips back up and sucks on the head, tongue probing the tip as if to push inside.

Arthur moans. It’s been a long time since anyone has done this for him. “Oh Amy,” he sighs as she kisses him over and over.

“Tastes good,” she murmurs, holding his shaft up tease his sac with her tongue.

“It’s only-ah-fair that I return the favor. Come here.” He motions to his own chest.

She slowly, almost hesitantly, moves over him until she is straddling his face. There could not be a more beautiful sight in the whole ‘verse than her glistening, swollen, pink lips just above him like this. “Please,” she begs, “Oh, Arthur—”

Then there’s a gentle knock on the door. The real door. The door to his shuttle. The tea has worn off enough that Arthur is yanked out of his dream and he groans in frustration, running a hand over his face. His body is somehow both spent and still thrumming. “One minute,” he calls out, trying to make his voice sound normal. At least he knows the drug is actually wearing off. He splashes his face with water from the basin and hopes he looks normal.

He pulls a robe on, tying it as he goes to open the door. He prays that it isn’t her on the other side, but of course, when he opens it…

Fuck.

“Hey.”

There she is. Of course. Of course. Peering up at him from the lower step at the shuttle’s port inside the ship. Her eyes are clear now, it’s been long enough that the alcohol has run its course.

Amelia looks Arthur up and down, both concerned and intrigued by his disheveled state. She blushes slightly. His bright green eyes look wild and his hair is even more mussed than usual and though he’s obviously trying to hide it, his breathing is labored. “Uh. Are you okay?”

Arthur laughs almost hysterically. “Yes. I’m fine. I was just— Sod it all.” He runs his hand over his face again. Surely, this is another dream, somehow. “Captain. I need you to slap me. Across the face. As hard as you can.”

Amelia chuckles awkwardly. “Why? Did you do something to deserve it? Arthur, seriously, are you okay?”

That response is enough to convince him this is no longer a dream. If it had been, she would have slapped him merely because he told her to do it. “Ha. I don’t know. Possibly.” He takes a deep breath. “My apologies, Captain. I was, ah, performing a ritual and it is very… immersive. What is it you need?”

Amelia knows she had a pretty good made-up reason that she can’t remember now because he looks so sexy like that. She wants him so badly sometimes that, despite knowing how wrong it would be and that he would definitely say no, she has actually considered asking him if she can become one of his clients. She could never afford it anyway. But after that idiot in the bar earlier, she just wants to be near Arthur. “I, uh… well if you’re busy, it can wait until later.”

Arthur is just on the edge of being furious with her when he sees the raw need behind her uncharacteristic shyness; it’s too intense to ignore as he usually does and it leaves him momentarily speechless.

“Anyway,” she mumbles. “Breakfast is in about two hours.” An ache throbs in her whole body. She turns to leave, go back to her bunk so she can try alleviate it. She’s so used to seeing Arthur looking composed and regal and now to see him looking like he has just been… working… it makes her want to take a walk outside. In space. With no suit. Just to cool off… and be vaporized so that she won’t have to live knowing she can never have him.

“Captain,” Arthur follows her and snatches her hand, pulling her into him. He runs his thumb over her cheek, admiring her flushed skin and parted lips. He lightly presses a kiss to her temple. “You’re bloody terrible at concealing your emotions. Your thoughts. As much as I adore that about you,” his hand slips to the small of her back, “it drives me mad.”

Amelia gasps, frozen in place. “Wh-what?”

His fingers clasp her chin and he drinks in her every minute expression. “How am I meant to hold back from taking what I want when your desires are written all over your face?”

Amelia stands very still, stunned, though her hands grab onto his robe like he might disappear at any moment. She searches his face for some sign that he’s teasing, but all she sees are his vivid green eyes and dark brows, and a pink tinge to his fair, freckled cheeks.

There’s a glimmer of gold fire in his gaze this time that sends a shiver through her body, culminating in the curling of her toes and a deep, visceral throb between her legs.

Arthur finds her confusion to be almost adorable. She is apparently as oblivious as she has always seemed if the revelation of his feelings is truly so startling. He can feel her fingers grip more tightly to his robe and her face flushes pink, far more than what the alcohol had done. Her eyes have darkened and where his hands cup the sides of her face, he can feel her pulse racing. Holding her just like this while she looks at him like that is far better than the lucid dream she took him from. “Captain, I—”

The delicate gold chains of his bracelets tinkle in her ears. “Yes,” she says instantly. Amelia palms the back of his neck and kisses him fiercely. It’s clumsy and they don’t fit at first, until she cedes control to him gratefully, letting him ravish her lips with his, with his teeth, and claim her mouth expertly with his tongue.

Hunger consumes Arthur and he cannot taste her enough. He needs more of her. But he also needs air and so does she and they are both panting when he breaks the kiss.

Amelia looks past his shoulder to the open door of his shuttle and winces with the reality of situation asserts itself. How could she forget? “Arthur, I… I thought— You said you’d never service me or any of my crew and I… well, I can’t really aff—”

Arthur silences her with a shorter and more decisive kiss. “What I said stands. I will never service you as a companion, but if you wish it as I do, I would be your lover.”

A flood of desire rushes through Amelia’s body, followed quickly by a flash of nervousness.

Arthur catches that instant of apprehension, but doesn’t let her go. She’s strong enough to snap a man’s neck with her bare hands, if she doesn’t want to be there, she will go. Instead he says, “I’m certainly not demanding it. Simply say the word and I will forget this ever happened.” at least until I am once more alone in my bed, he thinks.

Amelia shakes her head and then leans her forehead against his chest. “I couldn’t forget, so it’s… better to stop now before… before I say somethin’ stupid.”

Arthur’s brow creases. “Such as?”

Amelia swallows back a few tears and lifts her head. “What would it mean to you?” she asks, but then continues anyway, just barreling towards sure stupidity. “Because I’m in love with you, Arthur. That probably sounds real naive to you, but it’s the truth. I’m in love with you and your job doesn’t even bother me, truly, but if I go in there with you right now, I want to still be a whole person when I come out again.”

Arthur blinks, but then pulls her body flush with his. He lightly dusts his lips against hers. “I fear you stole my heart quite some time ago, Captain, and so you are more than whole. I could never make you less so. Nor would I attempt such a thing.” He releases her just enough to pull her toward the shuttle, kissing the back of her hand. “I love every part of you. Please allow me to demonstrate.”

Amelia’s knees go wobbly and she nods dumbly and follows him. She jumps slightly when the door whooshes shut and locks behind her. It has been awhile since she has really looked at Arthur’s shuttle and how richly it is furnished, how a sweet, woody incense perfumes it. The bed is made, covered with exquisite blue, green, and gold fabrics and just looking at it makes her shiver.

Arthur notices her fixation on the bed, assuming that it makes her uncomfortable to know what he does there. This is why, in his dream, he had imagined them in her bunk. “The bedding is clean,” he quips teasingly. “Or we can go to your quarters, if you’d rather.”

Amelia bites her lip. “I’m fine here,” she grins giddily. “I told you, your job doesn’t bother me. Used to, I ain’t gonna lie, but…” she blushes bright red, “sometimes, knowing you’re in here with a client, doing… your job really, uh, gets me going, you know?”

Arthur laughs, but is very intrigued by this new information. “Does it,” he asks rhetorically. “That’s very good to know.” He takes her hands and guides her toward the bed. He holds out his own hands to her, palms down, displaying his jewelry. “These are given to, and worn by, every registered companion who has graduated from the Academy. There are very few circumstances under which it is considered acceptable to remove them.”

Amelia nods, tracing the chains on them. “I’ve seen them on other companions before.”

Arthur reaches out and tilts her face to look at him. “I would like for you to take them off.”

“Oh,” Amelia breathes. She carefully removes the bracelets, brushing her fingers over the newly exposed skin, which is fairer even than the rest of Arthur. She hands him the jewelry and he places it in an ornate box.

With his hands now bare, Arthur molds them to Amelia’s hips, but only to remove the holster that perpetually encircles them. He lets it fall to the floor with a heavy thunk. When he tugs at the hem of her shirt, he sees that nervous look on her face again and she reflexively grabs his wrists. “Amelia… what’s the matter? I shall say it again if you need me to, but we do not have to do this.”

Amelia chews on her lip. She has to tell him. “No. It’s not that. I want to. I want to so bad. But I… I never have before.”

Arthur internally laments her grammar for the thousandth time, only this time he genuinely does not understand what she said. “You never wanted to before?”

Amelia squeezes her eyes shut and takes a deep breath. “I’ve never, um, gone to bed with anyone before,” she exhales very quickly. “I mean I was a kid and then there was the war and then there’s running this goddamn ship and then I fell in love with you and didn’t want anyone else anymore so… I guess I just never got around to it.”

Some unseen force tightens pleasantly around Arthur’s heart and also his groin. He could almost laugh. All the time he spent simmering in his jealousy and now he finds out that she comes to him utterly untouched. He fervently kisses her cheek, then under her jaw, then her neck. “If you had any idea,” he mutters raggedly against her ear, “how bloody ecstatic I am to hear that, you’d think I was mad.” He bites down on her neck and nibbles and sucks a large mark onto her skin.

Amelia laughs, but it just comes out as a puff of air. “I already think you’re ‘mad.’”

Arthur kisses and admires the mark he just made. “It’s wretched of me, given the circumstances, but the thought of you with anyone else is intolerable to me.”

A noticeable shiver runs down Amelia’s spine and her knees turn to jelly again. She complies this time when Arthur removes her shirt and her bindings.

He plants kisses over her chest and shoulders and cups her breasts in his hands, holds them as if they are fruits whose ripeness is under consideration. A proven test: when he squeezes them, she moans; they are ripe and sweet. In continuing to undress her, Arthur notices that she has rather a lot of scars. She gets injured quite regularly and she is a war veteran, but somehow he never thought they’d be so visible. On the central planets, the technology exists to completely heal wounds with no scars at all. He traces along them with his fingertips. “I bet there are stories for each one of these.”

Amelia hums. Her mind is slipping into a haze from all the pleasure of being adored. “Most of ‘em are from the war,” she says, but then points to a fresher one. It’s a healed bullet wound on her lower abdomen. “Got this one saving your sorry ass though,” she teases with a wink.

Arthur scoffs. “Bloody admirable that you can be so cavalier about it,” he drolls sarcastically. Memories of that day are painful for him even now. He presses a gentle kiss to her forehead and whispers, “I thought I’d lost you. We all thought we’d lost you.”

Amelia caresses his cheek, her heart fluttering since he hadn’t seemed so affected at the time. “Never. You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

Arthur drops to his knees before her; his hands busy themselves with her belt, trousers, and boots while his lips give his gratitude to that scar. He removes her boots along with her trousers, snaps the elastic band on her plain cotton panties and then removes those too. He places a kiss on her stomach and admires her. She is completely uncharted territory and his every brush against her skin elicits such delightful reactions.

Amelia trembles as Arthur rests his head on her hip and his breath fans over her skin. “Your turn,” she breathes, tugging pointedly on his robe.

Arthur stands, reluctant to let her go at all. Her body is so lovely, as lovely as all of her, more so for her life being etched all over it. He kisses her, gripping her waist while she unties the sash holding his robe closed. As the fabric slips from his shoulders and falls to the floor, revealing him to her entirely, Arthur feels truly naked for the first time in a long time and he relishes it.

Amelia’s eyes widen when she sees the twin gold rings, accented with bright red rubies, pierced through his nipples. She licks her lips subconsciously and slips her respective index fingers through each one, giving them an experimental tug.

Arthur grunts softly which apparently encourages her because she tugs just a little harder and twists them slightly. “Oh yes, Amy,” he moans, “yes yes, harder.”

Amelia stalls at the nickname, but only because it surprises her how much she likes it. She watches his face intently as she does as he asked: pulls the rings harder and twists them further.

Arthur’s eyes roll back and he bites his lip. “Ahhh yes, love, that’s bloody brilliant.”

Amelia notices his hips jerk toward her and she feels his erection brush against her stomach. Her breath catches and she steadies herself. Her hands glide appreciatively over his chest, occasionally flicking the rings, but she avoids looking down at first. She had known he would be beautiful, as all companions are, but this is a little ridiculous, really. His light freckles dust his skin down to his shoulders and along his arms and the rest of him is flawless and fair. His body is toned, muscles well-defined with just a bit of cushion, all evidence of the strength and style with which she has seen him fight. After admiring him for a moment, she finally dares to look down.

Arthur follows her gaze and it’s rather endearing really, how she seems to need to prepare herself to look at all of him. Her hands on him are both reverent and curious. It is so deeply gratifying how she gasps and her eyes widen when she finally drops her gaze below his waist, so gratifying that he moans low and loud in the back of his throat, though her reaction does beg the question, “Have you never seen a naked man before?”

Amelia squirms, both from the question and from how pretty his cock is, long and so thick and she can’t help but run her finger over it, from base to tip, feeling it twitch and harden further. Without looking up at him, she answers quietly, “I have… there’s no time for modesty in war and all, but… no, not in a situation like this.”

Arthur’s grip tightens involuntarily on her hips. “Fuck,” he mutters emphatically, mostly to himself. He draws them against his and groans at how they fit together almost exactly just like this. He kisses her neck and nips at the shell of her ear. “I’m going to ruin you,” he promises.

Amelia’s heart pounds in her brain as she melts in his arms. “As if ya haven’t already,” she whispers breathlessly, head spinning as his cock presses between her thighs.

Arthur sits on the end of the bed, feet still on the floor. He nudges one knee between her legs, just to keep them apart, as she stands in front of him. He presses his lips to the slight swell of her stomach just below her navel and caresses her thighs, tickles them really judging by how she squirms, moving ever inward. Upward. Until his elegant fingers are ever so lightly brushing her lips.

Amelia whimpers and braces herself by gripping his shoulders. “Arthur…”

“You’re shaking,” he says, letting his other hand rests gently on her waist. “I’ve hardly touched you. I wager you’re already wet for me as well, hmm?” He dips one finger in further and is rewarded with slick, silky heat which spills over now and he uses his fingers to coat her with it.

“Please, Arthur!” she begs, clenching her hands tighter on his shoulders. Her legs threaten to collapse. His touch is so different, so much better than touching herself.

Withdrawing his hand, Arthur licks his finger and moans. She tastes absolutely divine and it makes him crave more of her. He cups his palm over her mound and presses that same finger inside her.

“Ahh!” Amelia screams, nearly doubling over. She sobs as her fingers thread into his hair.

“You’re so sensitive,” Arthur murmurs teasingly, but he couldn’t be more pleased about it. He inserts another finger just to hear her cry out again and she doesn’t disappoint. She’s so tight and his cock twitches at the mere thought of her wet heat wrapped around him, the thought of her coming undone with his cock inside her.

Amelia’s moans and sighs and whines as his fingers thrust into and scissor her open. She feels so full just from that, but then he removes them again and pulls her into his lap.

Arthur wraps his arms around her. The new angle has her breasts directly in front of him and he wastes no time in pinching her nipples, twisting them and making her cry out, the same as she had done for him. When he can’t resist any longer, he nips one with his teeth before wrapping his lips around it and sucking fervently.

“Fuck!, fuck, Arthur oh~” She holds the back of his head with both hands. “Please, don’t stop, don’t—ah!”

After creating several deep red marks, Arthur switches to give her other breast the same treatment, only this time, he simultaneously slips his hand between her legs again. If he hadn’t believed her before, he certainly knows now that she is a virgin. He has the absolute joy of being her first. If he has any say in the matter, he’ll be her only.

Amelia can’t think straight. Pleasure slowly coils tighter and tighter inside her and the spring is set to snap, but the second before it does, Arthur draws away, taking the pleasure and Amelia’s breath with him. “You! You goddamn—! Agh!” She slaps her hand over her mouth, abashed, but the sudden deprivation is maddening and the smirk on his face is infuriating—softened only by enamored look in his eyes.

Arthur laughs and falls back onto the mattress, leaning up on his elbows. “Don’t worry, Captain, I have very little intention of denying you. Now come here.” She moves to lie on top of him and he shakes his head. “No, love. Put your knees on either side of my head.”

She blushes brightly when she realizes what he intends to do and a thrill jolts through her and if not for her frustration, she might have protested. Instead, she crawls up the mattress next to him, kisses his lips once and then does as he instructed. The vulnerable position leaves her wobbly until Arthur’s warm, wide hands begin massaging her thighs.

Arthur can’t help that he practically salivates. The way she trembles above him, her musky scent and the wet sheen on her pretty, pink lips all turn his hunger ravenous. Here is yet another thing which pales his dream by comparison, especially knowing that he is the only one besides herself and perhaps a doctor to ever see this part of her. “You are sublime,” he hums against her silken center. “A little lower though, please, love.” He keeps a firm grip on her thighs as she eases closer. “That’s it… mmm, just like that.” Arthur nuzzles his nose against her, randomly darting his tongue out.

Amelia yelps and bends forward almost involuntarily, bracing herself against the headboard of the bed. “Ahh! Arthur! Ar— oh fuck!”

Arthur smirks and his cock twitches at hearing her call his name like that. He massages her with his tongue and runs it over her clit. It’s his first real taste of her and he is immediately addicted.

“Ar—ah~ Arth—ohh,” Amelia babbles. She can’t even pick out individual sensations as Arthur licks and sucks on her. The most she can discern are his hands squeezing harder on her thighs and the soft, delighted moans that get pressed against her center. Other than that, his ministrations are just a blur of pleasure that leave her shaking and gripping the headboard for dear life. “Ple—plea… ahhh fuck!”

Arthur mentally smirks as her hips rock minutely back and forth, she’s most likely not even aware of what she’s doing and he certainly isn’t about to stop her. Her pussy becomes increasingly wet until his nose and chin are as coated as she is. The throb in his cock is proportionally increasingly difficult to ignore and Arthur focuses his attention on her clit until all her muscles tighten and her thighs threaten to crush his skull, though he remains undeterred.

Amelia cries and whimpers and sobs broken syllables of Arthur’s name as she comes. Nothing she has ever done to herself has made her feel like this. When the ecstasy begins to subside, it leaves her shaking and she just barely manages not to collapse on Arthur, instead falling to the bed on her back next to him.

Arthur pants as heavily as she does when she moves off of him. Not from lack of air, but from the effort it took not to climax right along with her though he hadn’t even touched himself. He moves to lie beside her on his side. He throws his leg over hers, the one nearest to him. This presses his cock against her hip and he rocks against her the way she had against his mouth. He trails his fingertips over her flushed skin, kissing her shoulder. He cannot recall ever seeing her look this… happy. It makes his heart swell. “Liked that, did you?”

Amelia takes a deep breath only to make an affirmative little growl, vaguely nodding her head. She shivers from him grinding against her. As good as she feels, she is far from sated and her body squeezes tight around an emptiness that had only been theoretical before now: an emptiness that Arthur is mere inches from filling. But also… “Give me a minute, I’ll return the favor… although I ain’t promisin’ to be any good at it.” She still wants to try.

Arthur groans at the idea. If he lets her, it will be the end of him… at least for the time being. “No,” he murmurs, moving over her. He spreads her legs apart, rubs his palm just below her navel. He dips down to kiss her, letting her taste herself on him and with well-practiced ease, he opens a small pot on the bedside table. He scoops some of the clear gel inside onto his fingers and coats his cock with it—all without breaking the kiss.

Amelia gasps when his lips smudge hot against her neck and something cool presses against her pussy. “Arthur~” His fingers slip easily inside of her and it’s not enough. Not nearly. “Please. Please, I need—”

“I know,” he rasps, lining himself up to her. He teases her with just the head of his cock. “I do too.” As hard as it is, he reminds himself to be gentle, to move slowly. He draws back and scissors his fingers inside her, stretching her as much as he can. “It will likely hurt,” he warns.

Amelia stares right at him, though she knows her face is bright red. “Not… too much I think. Feliciana helped me find this… well… it’s a thing. And. Ya know. It’s not as big as you are, but…”

Arthur’s brain latches onto the thought of her in her bunk, fucking herself with a toy, probably thinking about him and he kisses her fiercely, if only to make her stop talking about it. In that same moment, he sheathes himself all the way inside her. The noise—somewhere between a grunt and a cry—that bursts out of him forces him to break the kiss. He holds himself as still as possible over her, watching her face intently.

Amelia breathes, makes herself relax. It does hurt, but it’s not exactly unpleasant, especially with that emptiness now completely filled. Her body responds to him instinctively, adjusting, opening for him, getting wetter than she has ever been before. She looks down, smiling giddily and then back up at him. His gaze is dark and hungry and makes her walls flutter around him.

“Fuck,” he breathes. He won’t be able to hold still any longer and then, gods help him, she wiggles her hips. As if instantly forgetting every lesson he learned at the Academy, he begins moving inside her unceremoniously and every inch of her around him is his whole world and he fits inside her perfectly. “Amy, oh love, yes,” he moans, managing to keep his pace slow, just to feel her.

Whatever pain there had been dissipates as Arthur moves. She chokes on everything she tries to say, particularly when he calls her like that; he sounds so reverent. She wraps her arms and legs around him, sighing and mewling as he thrusts harder. Then he strikes her in just the right place, that spot she’d never quite been able to reach on her own. She screams in pleasure and clings tight to Arthur like she’ll drown in that pleasure if she doesn’t hold onto him. “Ar—oh ple—Arth—ah, there, there oh yes,” she babbles.

Pride, triumph really, surges in his chest; no one else could ever make her feel like this, could strike her again and again and again until she’s almost in tears from ecstasy. And he’ll see it to it that no one else will even have the chance to try. He focuses on her pleasure because if he doesn’t, the pulsating squeeze of her body around his cock would be too much, even for an experienced companion like him. It pays off when her body tenses around him and her back bows, arching herself into him. “Yes, love. Come on my cock, ah gods, yes that’s it. Let me feel you.”

Amelia cries, though no sound comes out. She desperately bucks against him as her orgasm takes her under and then blasts her into stars. It has never felt like this before and now she’ll never be able to live without it. She’ll never be able to live without Arthur.

Arthur leans down to kiss her neck, though it’s more a smudging of his lips against her skin, up to bite her earlobe and purr against the shell of her ear, “Good girl.” He has managed to breathe enough to regain some control over himself. He continues rocking into her, slowly, but driving, intent on making her do that again. He presses himself to her so that the cool gold rings adoring his nipples rub against hers. “Good girl. Will you come for me again?”

Amelia gasps at the slight tugging motion, head swimming in bliss. She would have kicked his ass from here to Boros any other time for calling her that, but in this moment, it only has the tension coiling in her belly once again and it feels too good for her to even wonder how it’s possible. Arthur is just making her do it—hitting that spot with deadly accuracy. It’s mere seconds before she’s sobbing, the tension snapping and taking her under once more. She only drowns this time, but it’s still bliss, absolute bliss.

“Oh Amy,” Arthur praises, “my good girl.” He wants to make her come over and over and it’s clear that her body might be capable of that, but dear gods, he’s on the verge of losing it again.

Her chest heaves as the tension washes away and she looks up at Arthur’s flushed face, it’s clear he’s only hanging on by a thread. His skin is hot and sticky as though he’s going to melt into her; she wants that. She reaches up and brushes her hands over his face, runs her fingers through his hair. “Your turn,” she says on a happy sigh. “Wanna feel you too.”

Arthur pushes himself up, holding his arms straight with his hands on either side of her head to give him leverage to pound her. “Ah~ Amy. Love. Blood hell.” Looking down at her pretty blue eyes, mussed golden hair, flushed breasts heaving… it’s like a dream only a million times more wondrous.

Amelia briefly closes her eyes, savoring every inch of him and before she knows it, she reaches yet another climax, this one far more gentle than the others. It leaves her rapturous enough to let him completely have his way with her. She bites her lip coyly at him and then drops her gaze to his chest where those pretty gold rings dangle. She hooks a finger into each one and pulls.

Arthur’s rhythm stutters, stalls. “More,” he begs, “harder. Harder. Please.”

She pulls harder, twists them nearly one hundred and eighty degrees and grins as he shudders and bows his head, his cock thrusting harder and faster into her. It must be an accomplishment, right? to turn a companion into a desperate mess. She twists the rings back the other way. She releases one and leans up as best she can, grabbing the ring between her teeth and then sucking on it along with his nipple. She swirls her tongue over the metal and the faceted stones set in it.

It’s finally too much. Arthur peaks, higher than he can ever remember. Her legs wrap around his waist, holding him fast, as her mouth and fingers switch sides. “Amy. Yes, ah, just like that, yes, yes, so good.” He spills inside her, fills her with cum. Feeling her orgasm on his cock was bloody fucking brilliant, the most amazing thing he has ever felt, but releasing inside her is a damn close second.

“Mmmm,” Amelia tosses her head back and moans in ecstasy as he fills her, hot and wet. She caresses him softly with her hands smoothing over his tense back, spreading her legs further at her hips, digging her heels into his back to keep him from slipping out.

Arthur finally stills, a few last shudders running down his spine and through his cock and he collapses onto her, his face cushioned by her lovely breasts. He only stays there a moment, before lying next to her and pulling her against his side.

Despite being almost painfully sensitized, Amelia slips her fingers between her legs, just wanting to feel him still inside her. No one had ever told her, warned her, that sex could feel so good. But if they had, she might not have waited for Arthur and he seems to be so pleased that she did.

Arthur hums happily and watches her play with herself, having a fair idea of what she’s doing. It makes his spent cock twitch futilely. “Alright there, love?” he asks, still breathless.

Amelia presses her legs together and squirms. “Mmhmm. Feel good all over. Inside even.”

“You have no pain, then?”

“None. I’ll say you know your trade quite well.”

Arthur chuckles and kisses her. “I’m not your companion, Amy. I have my skills, but that was… I promise you, that was not my trade. That was my body responding to your body, my heart speaking to your heart.” He nuzzles his nose in her hair.

Amelia drapes her arm over him and sighs giddily. “I love you too,” she murmurs.

Arthur pulls her tight to him. “Say you’ll be mine,” he begs. “Even if I’ve no right to ask. Say you’ll have no one else.”

Amelia melts. “It’s already been so,” she confesses. “Don’t see how it could ever be otherwise.”

An urgent desire in Arthur’s blood relaxes into a sweet certainty and he gently pets any part of her he can reach.

“Oh god,” she laughs, “We’re gonna have to tell everyone.”

Arthur shakes his head, chortling. “I promise you, everyone will be relieved. Except for Alfred. That poor lad is too dim to even notice how heavy the tension between us has been.”

Amelia pouts and then sighs. “Yeah, you’re probably right and I’ll be the first to admit I ain’t all that subtle.”

“Yes, but I rather adore that about you.”

“Yeah? What else do you adore about me?”

Arthur pushes her onto her back to lean over her. “Oh Amy. My love. It will be far more efficient to show you… again,” he brings up her hand to kiss it, “and again,” he moves to kiss her neck, “and again,” and seals it with a kiss to her lips.

#ukus #uk/nyo!us #wfsn #usuk fanfic #spadian ballad

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otome-mondays · 10 months ago

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Collar x Malice: Unlimited Review 🐈‍⬛

Ok I know I recently posted a Collar x Malice review, but I’m going in order I played these games. Who’s ready to jump back into the world of Collar x Malice! So some background info to start: this is the first fandisc I have ever played, and as of writing is the only one I’ve played. Because of this, I’m not generally sure what the standards are for fandiscs. I also played this back in 2021, so it has been a while. Please go back to my previous review on Collar x Malice for trigger warnings (use the otome mondays tag)

Spoilers Ahead

Prologue

So to start off this game, we have a separate prologue. You do have to play the prologue because it unlocks all the after stories. So let’s see how this game starts out! Well, for starters we have one of my least favorite things: retroactively adding characters and events that would’ve DEFINITELY been mentioned in the original if it happened. Yeah, needless to say I was not please at this start and quickly became frustrated having to unlock routes. Oh, right if you want to play anything else you have to unlock each boy’s route separately with their prologue choices. So fun! Let’s actually move on to what I bought the game for, 3/10.

Sasazuka Takeru 🍩

So for the after stories, I started with Sasazuka. I saw a recommendation to just pick one that you enjoyed but wasn’t your favorite or pick your favorite to start the game since there’s no need for a route order. I did originally place Sasazuka’s route as solid middle ground in terms of my favorite love interest and also route itself, so it seemed like a safe bet. And thank god it was! This one starts up after the events of his best ending and him rejoining the cyber crimes division. The main conflict here is that Sasazuka and Ichika are learning how to balance work and life and being in a relationship together. The pacing was pretty solid and even though it’s short, it’s enjoyable! If you liked Sasazuka’s route, you’ll enjoy this after story. 8/10.

Yanagi Aiji 🚬

I decided after Sasazuka’s route, I was going to get Yanagi’s out of the way. I do enjoy all the characters, but Yanagi is my least favorite out of the LIs here. After the events of Yanagi’s best ending, we have the start of the after story. Yanagi’s started his private detective agency and everybody’s getting back to normal life. That is until Yanagi’s older brother randomly shows up and threatens him to rejoin the police. So this story mostly focuses on that conflict. This is another cute and short story, so if you liked Yanagi’s route you will like his after story. 8/10.

Enomoto Mineo 🪭

I honestly picked this route next on a whim, and I’m glad I did! This story picks up after he’s been reinstated into Field Ops 2 and now the couple work in the same building. Enomoto’s route definitely focuses on him maturing and developing his relationship with Ichika, and it’s so refreshing to have a portrayal of a healthy relationship in a game (which is rich coming from me tbh). Thanks to his after story, he moved up spots on my favorite LIs list. Honestly I don’t see how anybody would dislike this route. 10/10.

Shiraishi Kageyuki 🐱

Shiraishi yet again stealing the show for some of the best writing…it’s a shame he has this weird extra character. I feel like it’s obvious, but this story has a lot of angst. Because of Shiraishi turning himself in and all of his crimes he committed, he’s under arrest and contained in a special cell. Unfortunately, random extra dude is the main issue in Shiraishi’s story. It is nice to see his growth though as a character. I feel like they did him dirty by making a third of his route flashbacks to the og game. 7/10, Shiraishi fans will probably enjoy but it could’ve been way better.

Okazaki Kei 🏃‍♂️

So I saved my favorite for last, and I’m glad I did! After the X-Day events have wrapped up, Okazaki returns to HQ and Ichika stays with SRCPO. This story also focuses on the two of them trying to navigate being in a relationship and work and life. I was a bit disappointed to see that Okazaki kind of regressed and goes through the same growth all over again but speed run edition. Even though it ends good, this story is kind of meaningless because of this. It isn’t a bad story, just disappointing. Sorry for all us Okazaki fans, 7.5/10.

Other Routes 🐈‍⬛

So let’s talk about the additional bonus routes. To play any of these extra stories, you do need to play through all the after stories. First, let’s go over the Adonis route. This takes place after Yanagi’s tragic end. Ichika joins Adonis after everybody she has cared for is murdered and Zero convinces her to join. It was nice to see Ichika interacting with the Adonis members and how they showed Ichika and Zero have a horridly toxic relationship. If you do want to see all this route has to offer, you do have to replay it a couple of times. Due to this, it’s a little more repetitive than enjoyable at points. Still nice additional content, 8/10. We also have some extended short stories, one from Kazuki’s perspective during X-Day, a semi-Minegishi route, and a semi-Yoshinari route. Kazuki gets an 8/10, Minegishi gets a 4/10, and Yoshinari gets a 7/10.

Overall Thoughts 🐈‍⬛

I like the idea of a fandisc and I think some elements were executed very nicely! Unfortunately, I do have a few issues with some of the content here (mainly the random dude being added and prologue entirely), but I still would recommend it for anybody who enjoyed Collar x Malice! 8/10

Since characters stay the same here, I’m not adding an LI ranking. I will add my route ranking though!

Route: Enomoto > Sasazuka > Yanagi > Adonis > Kazuki > Okazaki > Shiraishi > Yoshinari > Minegishi > Prologue

Resources 📝

I once again used CGs and screenshots from the game and I relied on Otome Kitten’s walkthroughs.

#otome mondays #collar x malice #minor spoilers #cg spoilers

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rivalryrsc · 8 months ago

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🐚 ⸻ ✷ GUIDE TO TUMBLR AND CLIQ RPING.

Interested in joining a rp that’s using Tumblr and CLIQ as there platform? Say no more. I’ve created this guide with step by step instructions on how to do so. Whether you use this guide to join our rp ( @rivalryhq ) or another rp, we hope that you find that’s guide useful. If you have any questions or concerns, please contact us on our main. Thank you and I hope your journey into Tumblr and CLIQ rping is a breeze ! Without further ado, let’s jump right.

Please make sure you throughly read all directions before sending any extra questions you may have. In order to gain access to CLIQ, you will need to provide us with an email that has not been associated with ANY other CLIQ organizations in order for you to accept your invite. While CLIQ is available for iPhone & Android Users, you will need to set up your profile on your desktop or by using your mobile web browser via your phone.

SETTING UP YOUR TUMBLR ACCT.

This section is fairly easy out of the entire process.

STEP ONE: If you haven’t already when submitting your application, create your Tumblr blog and make sure that your blog username is the same as your social media handle on your application. This is extremely important because the dash will act as your social media feed. See example below.

STEP TWO: Set up your Tumblr blog however you want to your liking. Themes are completely optional but if they are your things and helps get your muse pumping, here is a few themes that you can use: THEME ONE, THEME TWO, and THEME THREE. Plesse note that these are completely optional. You may use whatever your heart desires.

STEP THREE: Now it’s time for IC interactions via Tumblr. Again, this is fairly easy, but if you are still having trouble understanding just reach out to us. The dash is your social media feed. Meaning all your tweets, IG post, tiktoks, and whatever other social media your muse uses. Your personal IMs on tumblr is considered your DMs/iMessage. We do suggest when you do FaceTime/regular calls to switch to your personal IMs on CLIQ. However, the decision is up to you.

STEP FOUR: Now it’s time for you to make your tweets. When making your tweets we suggest that you don’t use any formatting, but instead change the font to “BIGGER”. This is just to keep the dash uniformed and clean. All reblogs will act as retweets or reposts (depending on what the post is). When you want to tag some one in a tweet or mention them, just simply @ them. Here is an example of how a tweet can look.

SUGGESTED TAGS TO CREATE: media (for images posted on twitter), instagram (posts, stories, reposts), tiktok, music, tasks, development, anons, and etc.

SET UP FOR CLIQ.

This section may be the hard part, but do not fret ! If you still aren’t getting the hang of things after this explanation, please contact us on the main page.

STEP ONE: Upon receiving your application & it being accepted, you will be invited with the email you provide us. Unfortunately, your email will not be hidden so please make sure you provide us with an email that you are comfortable with everybody seeing. Once you join the organization, you will then set up your profile to your liking. Please make sure you are using your character’s name when doing so. You will see an example below.

STEP TWO: After that, some of you will see that you have already been added the “WELCOME ABOARD THE S.S HILTON”. If you haven’t been added, do not worry. You can join the channel from using the search bar.

STEP THREE: Once you have completed this & you have noticed that you haven’t been added to you home, please message us so we can add you. We will attempt to stay on top of this but please excuse us if it slips our mind. When you are added to your home you will notice that you are made the admin of your home. You will then have complete control of you home & can add/remove whatever character you want. We ask that you do NOT remove the admins from your home & that you do NOT create your own home.

STEP FOUR: After all those steps have been completed, you can join any room you see available. You will join by simply hitting the “JOIN” button & you will have full access to the rooms. While you guys are not the admin, you are able to add a character if you would like. If you have any questions regarding set up feel free to message us.

STEP FIVE: Now when using CLIQ, you will interact how you would on discord & HALL (if you remember that time). We suggest using third person to write. During the times that there are events, we ask that you end your message by “ @ “ the person you are communicating with. That way they won’t miss your response. You also have the option of creating a thread within the channel for you & the person you are communicating with. You will be able to do this by holding down their message and choosing “Reply in Thread”. If you are on your desktop, you will simply hover the message you would like to make into a thread & click the message icon to ignite the thread. If you have any questions regarding this, feel free to message us. Below you will see all the various markdowns that CLIQ uses.

#🐚 ⸻ ✷ 𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐘𝐑𝐒𝐂. • [ guide. ]#urban rp #urban rpg #urban rph

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darklydeliciousdesires · 2 years ago

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Edge of Seventeen - Chapter Eleven.

Huge thanks to everyone for your continued engagement! I’m so thrilled you’ve enjoyed the story, just one more chapter after this one now until we’ll be at a close. Well, until I begin posting the mini-sequel! ;)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,389

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Eventually, with a little comical coaxing from Ian into the microphone (‘Um, Angel? Can we have our vocalist back, please?’) Bella returned to the stage, playing the final two songs in Heavenly Creature’s set, Angel standing right at the barrier, watching, his heart ablaze. Nothing else mattered but her. Suddenly, he realised just how true his brother’s words had been to him those few months ago.

She’d made a mistake, and he couldn’t resent her forever for it. He loved her too much, and he knew that for sure. Getting back together was the only thing that made sense, now that he was actually free to. But god, how he’d just finished things with Mel like that. He knew she deserved way better than him, but in his defence, seeing Bella again had thrown him into panic as the reality of how hopelessly in love he still was with her crashed into him hard.

Once their set was over, he helped them load up the back of their van, Ian driving it over to the nearby hotel they were staying at before he’d return in a cab, telling the others he’d meet them by the beer tent in about forty minutes.

“See that’s my meeting point with the guys as well, and it’s kinda gonna be weird,” Angel began, taking Bella’s hand.

“Well yeah, since we broke up over a year ago, and then suddenly, poof! Here I am again!” she chuckled, kissing his bare shoulder.

“Um...” he cringed, shaking his head. “It ain’t that. It’s because I arrived with one girl, and now I’ll be leaving with another. I’m not too sure if she’s still here or not, actually.”

Immediately, she ground to a halt. “Okay, details.”

“Yeah,” he paused, shame coiling in him. “When I saw you up there, it hit me so fucking hard, I knew that I’d been lying to myself for the last nine months, with the girl I was with up until a half hour ago. I finished with her, then came straight back into the tent to watch you play the rest of the song that had just ripped my damned heart out.”

Bella’s jaw dropped. “Baby!” she exclaimed.

“I know.”

“Oh, Angel, that’s so naughty!”

He winced. “I know!”

She then widened her eyes. “Oh god, am I about to get my head kicked in for pinching you from her?” Her eyes continued to get bigger, lifting up his black vest and pulling it over her head, making a noise of trepidation from within.

“Baby girl, I ain’t got room in there for you too. Come out.”

“I can see!” she muffled. “Blimey, you’ve got even more stacked!”

“Hmm,” he hummed as she emerged. “I had to try and get over you somehow, so adding in an extra hour at the gym was how I started. That part worked, the getting over you not so much.”

She pulled a silent ‘awww’ face, stroking his face, pulling him down to her level and kissing him. “So, we’re definitely back together, then?”

He snorted, holding her close. “As if you need to ask!”

She beamed, falling into happy kisses with him, her insides all lit up and sparkling. Finally, she had him back. “And I want you to know, because I promise solemnly. I will never, ever lie to you again. Not even a little one. Never, ever, ever.”

“I know. I know, B. Now, stop panicking and just kiss me some more.” She was only too happy to oblige. Once at the beer tent, the line was ridiculously long, Angel happy to see Richie and Seth (who was actually old enough to purchase alcohol) emerge from the front, the latter passing him a beer, Richie handing Bella a huge ice water, as she always drank immediately after a performance, to soothe her vocal cords down a little again.

They stood and watched Lamb of God playing over on the main stage from a distance, Angel knowing that pretty much everyone bar the girls and EZ (who he always joked was too uptight for it) would be in the moshpit at that point, guessing correctly when he saw the group heading back over to them about fifteen minutes after the end of their set, Coco with a bloodied eyebrow, not a shirt between any of them, looking pit worn.

Angel bit his lips together as he saw the confused faces of Gilly and Riz, both pointing at Bella with looks of ‘huh?’, the former then being deafened by his girlfriend literally screaming, running with her arms open, flying at Bella at about a hundred miles an hour, Bella’s scream filling the air along with it as they embraced. One might say Amelia had missed her, not keeping in touch since it would have made things difficult for Angel.

“Do I dare even ask what the fuck happened?” Gilly questioned, pointing over as where the girls got reacquainted.

Angel shook his head. “Might be best you don’t know, but I think I have a tonne of shit coming my way when Mel catches up with me again.”

“And do you care?”

“Does it make me an asshole that other than feeling bad about how I dropped it on her out of the blue, I don’t? I mean, I didn’t wanna hurt the chick, but...”

Gilly nodded. “Yeah, kinda does, bro. But that’s the one for you right there. I always wondered, why you two called it quits.” Jerking his head in Bella’s direction, Angel looked over, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, she is.” He didn’t say anything further, because nothing else needed to be said. He was just glad that Bishop had kept to his word about not telling anyone the reason why he and Bella had broken up, because if he hadn’t, Gilly wouldn’t have said what he just had. He stood back and drank his beer, talking with Seth and Richie, including and introducing them to everyone so they didn’t feel left out while Bella and Amelia chatted to one another, the former returning to his side before long, wrapping her arm around his waist as she leaned into him.

“What’s the great, big smile for?” he asked, hand stroking her back.

“You,” she confirmed, kissing his chest. “I love you.”

God, how he’d missed those words, spoken on her sweet voice, those dulcet British tones he’d longed to hear. “I love you too.” He had her back, he had his baby, his heart and soul, his beautiful Bella back in his arms. Elated didn’t quite cut it. The guilt of just finishing with Mel kept on reverberating through his chest, though, the happier he felt himself grow, Bella sensing it as the day grew to evening. Especially when he checked his phone, finding one hell of an angry voicemail message.

“Shit,” he winced, hanging up, leaning into her as she sat between his legs, not able to see the festival headliners on stage, but not especially being into Avenged Sevenfold, she didn’t mind. She was more concerned at the mess her boyfriend had gotten himself into.

“Where is she now?” she asked, stroking the arm he had wrapped around her chest.

“Back at the hotel we checked into, absolutely seething at me,” he confirmed, Bella nodding.

“Do you think it might be a good idea that you go and talk to her, then meet me back at mine? We’re at the Highwood Inn.” Instantly, Angel groaned. “That’s where you are too, isn’t it?”

“Oh yeah. What room? Come on, universe, kick me in the balls and have it so I have my last girlfriend and current one in the rooms next to each other!” he yelled, lifting his head to the sky, Bella giggling.

“Two two seven.”

He breathed a small sigh of relief. “Thank fuck, she’s in three eighty-two, so a completely different floor.”

She was thoughtful for a moment. “Would it help if I talked to her, woman to woman?”

His facial expression said it all, but he followed it with words. Delivered in panic at the very idea of Bella coming face to face with Mel. “Hell no! Oh god, no, no, no, baby girl. She’ll slug you, and I know you’re not the fighting kind, but Mel? She very much is.”

“Yo, she broke some chick’s nose one time because she dared flirt with your guy there. Take a wide berth, England,” Coco interjected with, tapping Bella’s leg affectionately before turning back to wrap both arms around Nala.

Angel pointed in his direction. “Yeah, what he said.” He made a soft ‘awww’ noise at her spooked face, holding her close. “She’s really serene and sweet, but the fucking temper she has, shit. So no, absolutely no deal about you going to talk to her. You can wait in your room, and order some ice, because I think I probably have a punch coming my way. Nothing less than I deserve. I couldn’t wait, though. I couldn’t fucking go on one second longer being with her when I saw you again. I think I’d known for months, you know, that I’d seek you out again, as soon as you turned eighteen, regardless of what I said at the time. I mean, I know today was by chance...”

She pressed her finger to his lips then, halting his gabbling, as he always did when he was getting worked up about something. “Shhhh, baby,” she soothed, kissing him. “Today wasn’t by chance, either. It was fate, in the stars, cosmic alignment. It had to be, for you to have been outside that tent, at the precise moment I was singing the very song I wrote about you.”

He shrugged a little, kissing her hair. “I dunno how much I believe in all of that, but I think I can make an exception here.”

She smiled, leaning into him, breathing in his scent, comforted after months and months of longing for him. “So, when do you want to face the music?

Not really being bothered about watching the headliners close, and knowing the crush of people waiting to leave would add time to him being able to go and sort out the mess he’d left with Mel and then swiftly get himself back where he belonged, Angel decided to leave right then, saying goodbye to everyone, walking down to the nearest exit hand in hand with Bella.

Riding to the hotel with Bella on the back of his bike felt right, he’d missed it, taking one hand off to reach back and stroke her leg like he always used to when he rode, Bella resting her chin on his shoulder, so in love, she felt as if she had fireworks going off inside her. That sublime feeling of happiness was tinged, though, the sweetness of Bella’s nature of course dictating she feel a pang of guilt over the fact Angel had broken up with his girlfriend for her. So strong his love was, he hadn’t even known whether that was what she wanted or not. He just knew that he couldn’t go on as he had been.

But then, he must have known, she thought. He’d have heard it in her voice, singing the song she wrote about him. He’d said when they’d parted that they weren’t meant to be, but quietly, Bella had always known otherwise, and selfishly, it was why she wasn’t completely consumed with bad feelings over taking him from another; truly, he was still hers in the time they’d been separated. It was only her age that had ever pulled them apart in the first place, and the lie that had facilitated it all to begin with.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a little while,” he told her ten minutes later at her hotel room door, kissing her softly, not really wanting to go and face up to his shit, but knowing he had to. He was thirty-eight; he needed to do better at his age. “Love you so much.”

“Love you even more.” she cooed, nuzzling him, stroking his chest. She slid back into the room, letting go of his hand right at the last moment, smiling at he winked at her, closing the door and waiting, until she allowed herself to be silly. Kicking off her boots, she bounced on the bed, squealing with excitement.

He still heard it as he walked up the hallway. “My little cutie.” he grinned, noting how thin the walls were. Oh, how the people either side of that room were in for a restless night, because once he returned, he planned to fuck her into the next century, he’d missed her so damned much.

However, before that...

“Jesus Christ!” He dodged the shoe flying at his head just in time, the small ankle boot hitting the back of the hotel room door. And then, the floodgate opened...

“You fucking asshole, Angel! You fucking asshole!” Mel raged, pacing around, her other shoe following it before she ran at him, swinging, punching him in the face. He allowed her that one, not that it was particularly hard, but his cheekbone still stung from it. No more followed, though, other than a few clenched fists thumping against his chest, Mel pushing back away from him, continuing her tirade. “Why were you ever with me, if it was her you wanted all along? Because you did, didn’t you? That’s why you never covered that damned tattoo on your chest, or why you kept the picture of you and her behind the shelves in your bedroom.”

He’d forgotten all about that.

“Yeah, I found it!” she raged, seeing the surprise on his face. “You just strung me along for nine fucking months, all the while knowing you were still in love with her! Why, Angel?”

The ins and outs of it weren't her business, but he knew he owed her somewhat of an explanation, because she was right. He had strung her along, not being as emotionally invested as he should have been with her. “It was complicated with us, and that’s why we broke up in the first place. I tried to get over her, find myself a happy life without her in it, and I thought I had with you. You’re right, though. I did want her, and because of that, you and me never really stood a fair chance.” He paused for breath, knowing he had to deliver the words that would hurt her further. “I was still too in love with her to be able to love you and truly be with you in the way you deserved, and for that, I’m really fucking sorry. I am. I know you likely won’t believe it, but I never meant to hurt you. I take on board that I have, though.”

“Yeah!” she scoffed, pacing. “Yeah, you did. Get the fuck out of here, go back to her. I never want to fucking see you again.”

He nodded, moving into the room and picking up his small bag he’d brought with him. “I understand. I’ll sort out the things you left at my place, give ‘em to Amelia to pass on to you.”

She didn’t reply, standing there, her shoulders shaking as she began to cry. “I’m so sorry, Mel. I hope you find someone who’s capable of giving you what you’re looking for, but that was never me, and I should have owned up to that a long time ago.”

Her reply was immediate, visceral. “Just leave!”

He pressed his lips together thinly, walking to the door and letting himself out, breathing a sigh of relief. He felt like a complete asshole, but he was free. Free to head back to exactly where he belonged.

“Baby,” Bella cooed, letting him in, her fingers gingerly stroking the red welt on his cheek.

“Eh,” he sighed. “I expected it. And I deserved it.” Smiling, he then sank into her embrace, absorbing her, his entire body sighing with relief. Finally... finally...

They stood like that, in a silent, loving embrace, stroking one another wordlessly for what felt like a long time, touches reacquainting, familiarising themselves with each other again, Angel pulling back to kiss her, softly at first, before the fire of longing began to roar right through him. Still though, it was steady edging, their clothes being shed slowly, revelling in the feel of each other’s skin, both naked by the time they fell to the bed, entangled around one another.

Shuddered breaths fluttered, hands explored, kisses pressed, gilded in fire and honey, everything slow, sensual, no rush needed, just enjoyment, soaking it all up, drinking it in, being reunited at long last. Her fingers stroked over the familiar patterns of his tattoos, moving her mouth, her fingers clasping his as she laid kisses from his wrist and over his forearm, Angel’s lips closing over the pink peak of her nipple, her soft gasp sending a jolt through him, a sharp edge against all that was soft and rolling, his tongue thrumming over the little bud, grazing it with the briefest hint of teeth.

Her short nails dragged down his arms, his mouth slipping, warmth winding within her as it wet a circle at her navel, goosebumps rising up, the braille of her body detailing the message of how he made it feel, his mouth lowering again, tongue flattening a lick over her slit, hands pushing her thighs wider before it delved over her folds hungrily, Bella crying out softly. Going without sex for thirteen months had definitely given her some pent-up longing, longing only to be sated by the one man she’d craved for.

The tip of his tongue glided to her clit, laying heat over it with the softest of licks, his breath hot at her soaking folds, Bella gasping as her hands swept through the black silk of his hair, tugging gently, her thighs writhing against his face, Angel grinning to himself. “Missed me, baby?”

“Oh my god, so fucking much!”

Her reaction had him laughing quietly, laying a kiss against her sex. “You don’t have to miss me any longer, mi amor.” Sliding his tongue over the little swell of her clit once more, he sent fire roaring through her, a blade of pleasure slicing to her very bones as she shook, the tip of his tongue skimming dewy pink nerve endings, his thumb pulling back the soft skin covering her bundle, making way for his lips to suck upon it gently.

Sparks rolled through the very marrow of her, the flush of ecstasy evoked by his mouth ever escalating, her body host to spasmodic judders as he caressed her dewy slit with all the fervour of a man half parched. Lapping at her, like the rolling of a wave cresting the shore, her body the paradise he revelled in, he gave her nothing short of sublimely heavenly pleasure with every precise lick.

Alternating, he bestowed firmness, Bella becoming giddy, teased with softer strokes, Angel sucking again until she was lost in the tide of his bliss, adrift from herself on the sea of pleasure he had her drowning in ceaselessly.

“Oh my god, it’s too good, fuck!” she gritted, his tongue driving into her burning hole as she writhed against his face, hot breaths fluttering against her silken folds like a summer tempest, balmy, wet, lingering and captivating.

She mewled continuously, her hands clutching tight in his hair before slipping to his arms, fingers trembling as she gripped the thick rigidity of his tattooed arms and bucked against his mouth, his tongue… the lips that continued to suck her the edges of nirvana. One last, well place lave of his tongue sent her reeling over the edge, tumbling into the release that sent glimmers sizzling up her spine, her cresting wail feral, her body flowing, ebbing and throbbing through it, Angel emerging with a smile, his tongue dragging a long, hot lick up the centre of her body, reaching between them, guiding his cock to her soaking opening and then...

“Ahhh, fuck.”

“Missed me, baby?” she hummed, not hiding the entertainment from her face, taking his in her hands, kissing him madly.

“Yeah,” he breathed, rocking his hips into her, filling her entirely. “And I’ll be damned if I ain’t gonna spend all night showing you just how much.”

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