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unabashegirl · 1 year ago

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Meeting her || H.S

Author's note: The following piece is based on The Golden Boy one short from earlier in the year. This story will be how Harry and Y/N met. This took place before the World Cup . This is going to be a three-part story! This is part one. I hope you enjoy! The next part will have smut. Let me know what you think

PS: these IA pictures are getting out of hand.

masterlist

word count: 5.1K

As the autumn leaves danced in the crisp Manchester breeze, Y/N found herself lost in the beauty of this new city. Having recently moved here, her life felt like a blank canvas waiting to be painted with new experiences and adventures. One such adventure awaited her on a chilly evening, as her friend Emma invited her to dinner with her new boyfriend, Harry.

They first met in college during their second year. Y/N got invited to her first party but didn't know anyone. Everything turned around when Emma bumped into her in the kitchen. As the years went by, their friendship got stronger. But when Y/N switched her major to art, things took a turn. Emma didn't like the decision and started keeping her distance.

Y/N came back to Manchester after spending nearly a year in Italy. During her time there, she learned a new way to paint and work with ceramics. Even though her family was closer, she felt a bit out of place, like a foreigner, in her own native country.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Y/N's phone buzzed with a message notification and a follow request on Instagram from Emma. Curiosity piqued; Y/N opened the app to find a warm greeting from her old friend. Emma had just learned that Y/N was back in town and was eager to reconnect and catch up on all the happenings since their last meeting. Ever since, they've been regularly meeting up for lunch dates, dinners, and various events.

Emma had been excitedly telling Y/N about Harry for weeks, and tonight was the night she was going to meet him. She kept going on about how he was a professional football player, having just joined Manchester United, and how his salary was sky-high, potentially making him extremely wealthy. Emma was evidently proud of this and made sure to let Y/N know, almost bragging about it.

They met at a cozy, dimly lit restaurant, where the aroma of delicious food filled the air. Emma was beaming with excitement, introducing Y/N to Harry as he greeted them with a warm smile. He was handsome, with kind eyes that seemed to reflect his genuine personality.

"Y/N, this is Harry," Emma said enthusiastically.

"Nice to meet you, Harry," Y/N replied with a friendly smile, extending her hand for a handshake.

"The pleasure's mine," he responded politely. "I've heard that you're an artist."

Y/N nodded shyly, "Yeah, mostly into paintings and ceramics."

“Anything that we might have seen?”

"Nothing. She's just a beginner, honey," Emma interrupted before Y/N could respond. "She just returned from Italy from picking up a new skill, hoping it might help her sell and turn a profit. You know how it is in the art world – always searching for that breakthrough.”

Y/N felt a momentary offense, a twinge of embarrassment sweeping over her. Not everything Emma had said was entirely accurate. While it was true that everyone aspired to a breakthrough, Y/N had already experienced one, prompting her journey to Italy. Having been invited there, she returned to Manchester with a renewed focus on opening her first gallery. Whispers of her name began circulating in the corners of the art world.

"Fortunately, Harry has already had his breakthrough," Emma added before taking a sip of her martini.

Emma's chatter mostly revolved around Harry's career, the glamorous lifestyle associated with professional football, and the immense potential for wealth. While Harry remained modest and humble about his achievements, Y/N could sense a hint of discomfort in his eyes.

Y/N was someone who valued depth in conversation, she yearned for more than just the superficial. Emma's constant emphasis on Harry's financial prospects was getting on her nerves, but she held her tongue, not wanting to jeopardize her friendship. It was rare for her to have friends, and she didn't want to ruin this budding friendship.

Throughout the evening, she observed Harry, realizing that he was a genuinely kind and down-to-earth person. He seemed uncomfortable with the focus on his financial success, preferring to discuss other aspects of life. Their conversation flowed naturally when they discussed their interests, hobbies, and favorite books.

As the night progressed, Y/N found herself connecting with Harry on a deeper level, appreciating his humility and kindness. Despite the initial annoyance caused by Emma's bragging, she discovered a potential friend in Harry—one who valued genuine connections over monetary gains.

"So, how was Italy? Is it everything that people say?" Harry inquired, his curiosity evident. Having not yet ventured outside the country, most of his experiences were rooted in local settings, particularly in the realm of his games. Eager to hear about Y/N's international adventure, he leaned in, genuinely interested in the tales she might share about the enchanting country he had yet to explore himself.

Y/N smiled, taking a sip of her drink before launching into her narrative. “It is everything and more. The art, the history, the landscapes – it's like a dream. I ended up indulging in the most amazing pasta dishes. And the art is in every corner.”

Harry's eyes widened with interest, "Really? What kind of art did you see?"

Y/N's enthusiasm bubbled as she shared, "Everything from Renaissance masterpieces to contemporary street art”.

As the evening came to a close, she felt a sense of contentment. She had made a new friend in Harry, someone who shared her appreciation for genuine conversations and meaningful connections. Little did she know, this chance encounter would mark the beginning of a beautiful friendship that would enrich her life in more ways than she could have imagined.

Throughout the week, Emma continued to invite her to various events, eager to integrate her into her social circle. One evening, she invited Y/N to attend a football game where Harry would be playing. Y/N was genuinely excited about the prospect of watching a live game and supporting Harry, but Emma's comment about dressing up and putting on makeup stung.

"You should definitely come to the game! It's going to be so much fun. Dress up a bit and maybe put on some makeup—you never know, you might catch someone of Harry's caliber," she said with a wink, attempting to make it sound like a lighthearted joke.

Y/N forced a smile, masking the hurt she felt. It was clear Emma was implying that Harry was out of her league or that she needed to "improve" her appearance to even be in the same league as her or him. She wasn't confrontational by nature, so she simply replied, "Thanks for the invite, Emma. I'll see if I can make it."

As the day of the game approached, Y/N debated whether to attend. The comment had left a lingering discomfort, making her question if she should subject herself to such superficial judgments. But her curiosity to watch the game and support Harry won in the end.

On the day of the game, she wore a casual yet presentable outfit, wanting to feel comfortable and confident in her own skin. She met Emma at the stadium, where she greeted her with excitement.

“I'm so glad you made it! This is going to be amazing," she exclaimed.

“Yeah, I'm looking forward to it," Y/N replied, attempting to infuse her response with enthusiasm, though beneath the surface, nerves churned. Anticipation mingled with apprehension as she contemplated the upcoming interaction. Y/N couldn't shake the memory of previous encounters, where backhanded comments and thinly veiled compliments had become a common thread.

As they took their seats, the atmosphere in the stadium was electric. The crowd's energy was infectious, and she found herself caught up in the excitement of the game. Watching Harry play was impressive—his skill and passion for the sport were evident.

Amidst the cheers and celebrations, Emma leaned over and said, "Isn't he amazing on the field? Imagine being with someone like him."

Her words struck a chord, reminding Y/N of the shallow perspective she seemed to have about relationships. She chose to focus on the game and cheer for Harry, pushing aside the hurt she felt. Deep down, she knew she deserved genuine connections and friendships that weren't based on appearance or someone's profession.

As the game ended and they made their way out of the stadium, she appreciated the experience and the opportunity to support Harry. However, she also realized the importance of surrounding herself with people who valued her for who she was, rather than making her feel inadequate or lesser than because of societal standards or external perceptions.

She continued to focus on her art, pouring her heart and soul into the canvas as she prepared for her upcoming art show. Emma's persistent invitations and comments had left a mark, and she found solace in the therapeutic strokes of her paintbrush. To protect her mental health and maintain her sense of self-worth, she began gently declining Emma's invitations and started distancing herself from her.

One afternoon, while heading to the art supply store, she unexpectedly crossed paths with none other than Harry. Her hair was up in a messy bun, glasses perched on her nose, and she was wearing baggy clothes slightly adorned with paint stains. She greeted him with a warm smile, surprised yet pleased to see him.

"Harry! Fancy running into you here," she said, a genuine smile lighting up her face.

"Hey! How have you been?" he responded, his friendly demeanor putting her at ease. Sporting athletic attire, he appeared in the midst of post-run casualness, on his way back to his apartment.

"I've been busy with work, preparing for an art show. It's been quite hectic," she explained.

"That sounds amazing! An art show? I'd love to see your work," Harry exclaimed, genuinely interested.

"Sure! You and Emma are more than welcome to come. It's on Saturday evening," she extended the invitation, acknowledging his enthusiasm. Including Emma felt like the courteous thing to do, although she harbored no intention of having her presence at the event.

"Where are you off to?" Harry inquired, his eyes drawn to her appearance and the sizable tote bag slung over her shoulder. He found the sight rather adorable. Harry admired her confidence and the unique way she expressed herself. While he hadn't seen her art yet, he was convinced that if it reflected even a fraction of her personality, it would undoubtedly be incredible.

Curiosity sparked in his eyes as he awaited her response, eager to understand the purpose behind the tote bag and the destination that had captured her attention on this particular day. The genuine interest he took in her pursuits was evident, a testament to the budding connection between them.

"I'm headed to the supply store. Ran out of a few things in the middle of a painting session," she explained, a hint of frustration in her voice. Having to cut her creative session short was always a predicament, leaving her feeling somewhat scattered. "That's why I look like such a mess," Y/N felt compelled to clarify, a touch of self-consciousness in her admission.

"Mind if I tag along?" Harry inquired, his reluctance to head to his apartment evident. The idea of being alone didn't appeal to him, and his living space still carried the lingering feeling of belonging to someone else.

"No problem. I just hope it won't be too boring for you," she said, a sudden nervousness creeping in. It felt akin to introducing a boyfriend to her parents, as he was about to witness a small yet intimate aspect of her life—her painting ritual. Despite the nerves, a giddy excitement bubbled within her. Rarely had someone shown enough interest in her work to accompany her in such moments.

As they strolled, they exchanged stories about their lives—his experiences with football, her passion for art, and the challenges and joys they both faced. Harry shared the excitement and pressure of being a professional athlete, and she talked about the joys and struggles of being an artist.

And Harry asked with genuine concern, "I noticed you've been a bit distant lately. Is everything okay?"

She hesitated for a moment, debating whether to share her feelings. But seeing his kind and understanding demeanor, she decided to be honest. "To be honest, Emma's comments have been bothering me. It felt like she was implying that I'm not good enough” Y/N shook her head, attempting to banish the same thoughts that had haunted her for years. "Or maybe I just misinterpreted her words," she mused, a flicker of uncertainty lingering in her mind.

Harry's eyes softened, understanding the weight of her words. "I'm so sorry you felt that way. Emma can be a bit... oblivious at times.”

His words warmed her heart, reassuring her that true friendships were built on understanding and mutual respect.

"We're here," Y/N announced, swinging open the door of a small but charming store. "Hi, George!" she greeted, waving enthusiastically to the elderly man stationed behind the counter at the back.

"Ms. Y/L/N! Good to see you! How's that collection coming along?" George, a familiar face and one of her most significant suppliers, recognized her immediately. He had even gone the extra mile to order specific brushes and paints for her, a testament to his belief in her talent.

"Oh, it's going!" Y/N chuckled, making her way to the paint aisle. "This is my friend Harry, George." Harry beamed, waving like an excited child being introduced to a stranger.

"Mr. Styles! Number nine in Manchester, right?" George exclaimed, recognizing him. "Great season you're having! It's good to have you."

"Thank you," Harry responded shyly, still adjusting to being recognized and receiving compliments from strangers.

"You're not going to swap me for Harry, are you, George?" Y/N teased as she bent down to reach for spatulas and sponges on the bottom shelf.

"Never. Still my favorite," George assured, prompting chuckles from both Harry and Y/N as they continued their joint venture, collecting items from Y/N's list and heading towards the checkout.

As Y/N gathered her art supplies, Harry couldn't help but admire the quaint charm of the store. It was filled with the rich scent of pigments and the subtle aroma of wooden easels. The artistic ambiance enveloped them as George continued to chat with Harry, discussing his recent successes in Manchester.

As they bid farewell to George, the doorbell chimed, marking the end of their visit. Stepping back into the bustling street, Y/N couldn't help but feel grateful for the support she received, not only from her favorite art supplier but also from Harry, who had ventured into her world with genuine interest and a bright smile.

"That was wonderful. Thank you for taking me," Harry commented warmly, carrying Y/N's tote bag through the lively streets. The cityscape buzzed around them, a backdrop to the shared experience they had just enjoyed.

Y/N smiled in response, her eyes reflecting gratitude. "Thank you for coming. It means a lot," she admitted, a subtle vulnerability in her tone. "No one has ever accompanied me to these sorts of things."

Harry's smile broadened, understanding the significance of those words. The weight of being the first to share in a part of Y/N's world tugged at his heartstrings. As they walked side by side, the city lights flickering overhead, an unspoken connection blossomed between them.

They found themselves enveloped in a comfortable silence, the echoes of their shared laughter still resonating in the air. The streets, alive with the rhythm of urban life, seemed to dance to an unspoken melody that mirrored the newfound understanding between Harry and Y/N.

Harry accompanied her all the way to her apartment, insisting on ensuring her safe arrival.

"I'll see you at the art show," Y/N said, her voice carrying a mixture of anticipation and gratitude. She gave him a quick but warm hug before disappearing into the foyer of the building. The promise of their reunion at the upcoming art show lingered in the air, a shared moment they both looked forward to. As Y/N disappeared from view, Harry couldn't shake the feeling of contentment. The day had been filled with meaningful conversations, different from his usual exchanges with his girlfriend.

On the night of the art show, the venue was buzzing with people who had gathered to appreciate and celebrate art. The atmosphere was vibrant, filled with an array of colors, emotions, and creativity. She was both excited and nervous, eager to share her work with others.

Not only were her paintings displayed on the wall, but her ceramics pieces adorned the space as well.

As the evening progressed, Y/N noticed Harry and Emma arriving, accompanied by a couple of Harry's friends. She greeted them warmly, hoping for a pleasant evening. However, it didn't take long for the mood to sour.

Emma's disapproving looks and hostile demeanor became evident as she roamed around the exhibition. Her discomfort seemed to intensify with each piece she viewed, as if she couldn't bear to see Y/N in the spotlight.

"What am I even looking at?" Emma whispered to Harry as they stood amidst a sizable crowd gathered around one of Y/N's largest paintings. "And why is everyone gawking? It's not a big deal; everyone can do it." Harry stayed silent; his attention fully absorbed by the intricate details of the artwork.

"Stop it," Harry gently pulled her hand, attempting to hush her down. "You're being rude." However, he couldn't deny that Y/N's creation was something truly unique. The canvas held an amalgamation of colors and emotions that seemed to dance and intertwine, capturing the essence of her artistic vision.

As the crowd marveled at the masterpiece, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for Y/N. Her work, a reflection of her passion and creativity, had garnered the attention and admiration of those present. He admired the way she fearlessly poured herself into her art, creating something that not only spoke to him but resonated with a broader audience.

Despite Emma's dismissive comments, Harry recognized the significance of Y/N's talent. He hoped that, with time, Emma might come to appreciate the artistry that captured the attention and imagination of so many.

“Let’s go. Why are we even here?” Emma turned to Harry and his friends, “She is not even that close of a friend. She is just a struggling artist”.

Unbeknownst to Emma, Y/N stood silently behind her, absorbing every single word that had slipped from Emma's lips. The gallery buzzed with the murmur of impressed onlookers, blissfully unaware that the subject of their discussion was right there, an invisible presence in the sea of admirers.

Y/N's heart sank at Emma's dismissive comments, her vulnerability exposed to the unintended audience. The weight of those words settled on her shoulders, adding a layer of discomfort to the pride she felt for her creations. Yet, she chose to linger in the shadows, absorbing the unfiltered opinions that echoed in the gallery space.

“Emma, that’s enough” Harry interjected, his voice carrying a mix of anger and concern.

As Emma turned around, her gaze met Y/N's, and the air grew thick with an unspoken tension. Y/N, having overheard every word of Emma's critique, stood there, a silent witness to the candid commentary. The sudden realization that Y/N had been present all along cast a veil of nervousness over Emma.

Caught off guard, Emma's eyes widened, and her cheeks flushed with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. The vibrant atmosphere of the gallery seemed to dim momentarily; the weight of the words exchanged lingering in the space between them.

Ignoring him, Emma cleared her throat, her voice sharp and accusatory, "You've been avoiding me, Y/N. I don't appreciate being treated this way, especially after everything I've done for you." Caught in the discomfort of the moment, Emma felt the need to assign blame. Admitting fault was inconceivable, especially in front of Harry and his friends; maintaining a positive image was paramount. Emma couldn't afford to be perceived as a negative force, and so, the instinct to shift responsibility to another party took hold. The desire to preserve her reputation and uphold a facade of positivity outweighed the need for genuine self-reflection.

Y/N tried to maintain her composure, choosing her words carefully. "I've been busy preparing for this show and focusing on my art. I never meant to make you feel ignored."

Emma's face twisted into a bitter expression, and she snapped, "You think you're so special with your art, don't you? No one cares, Y/N. I stopped talking to you in college because of these same reasons. You need to realize that you made a mistake by changing majors. Art is not going to feed you.”

The threat stung, hitting close to home. Y/N took a deep breath, trying to stay calm and collected despite the rising humiliation. "Let's discuss this later, privately."

She was relentless, determined to exert her dominance. "No, we'll discuss it now. Harry, tell her she's out of line."

Harry, torn between loyalty and what was right, looked conflicted. "Emma, maybe now's not the best time—"

Emma cut him off, her voice venomous, "Oh, so now you're siding with her? Fine, have it your way."

She stormed off, leaving Harry visibly troubled and Y/N mortified in front of his friends and other attendees. She wished the ground would swallow her whole, but she reminded herself that she had done nothing wrong.

Harry approached her, his eyes filled with apology. "I'm so sorry. She was completely out of line."

She forced a small smile, trying to brush it off. "It's alright, Harry. Let's not let this ruin the evening."

Deep down, she knew she deserved better than Emma's toxic behavior. As the night unfolded, she chose to focus on the genuine appreciation she received for her art, determined to rise above the negativity and continue pursuing her passion and genuine friendships.

After the tumultuous confrontation with Emma, the art show continued, and she tried her best to immerse herself in the joy of sharing her work with appreciative art lovers. The support and admiration she received from the attendees helped ease the sting of Emma's outburst, allowing her to refocus on the success of the evening.

As the night came to a close, she couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment. Several of her pieces had been sold, and the positive feedback had boosted her confidence as an artist. She was both proud and grateful for the experience.

As she started to wrap things up and close the gallery, she noticed Harry waiting outside. His presence was a comforting sight after the rollercoaster of emotions she had endured throughout the evening.

"Hey," she greeted, trying to offer a genuine smile despite the lingering discomfort.

"Hey, congratulations on a successful show," Harry said warmly, genuinely pleased for her.

"Thank you. It means a lot," she replied, feeling a sense of relief knowing that the worst was behind her.

"Look, Y/N, I'm really sorry about Emma's behavior. That was completely uncalled for," Harry apologized again, sincerity in his eyes.

She appreciated his concern and understanding. "Thank you, Harry. I know you tried to intervene, and I appreciate that."

Harry nodded, and then a soft chuckle escaped his lips. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving. How about we grab a bite to eat?"

A pang of hunger reminded her that she had skipped dinner in the whirlwind of the art show. "That sounds perfect. Let's go."

They found a nearby café and sat down, the atmosphere much more relaxed and pleasant than earlier in the evening.

Harry's presence was a balm to her earlier distress, and she was grateful for his kindness and understanding. Despite the events of the night, she felt a genuine connection with him, appreciating the way he had handled the situation and his willingness to stand by her.

As the night came to a close, and she bid Harry farewell, a mix of emotions swirled within her. There was a flutter in her heart, an undeniable attraction that had grown stronger throughout the evening. She had started to like Harry more than just a friend, and it made her nervous.

Y/N knew the reality of the situation. Harry was Emma's boyfriend, and pursuing anything beyond friendship with him would be a betrayal of their relationship. Loyalty and respect were paramount, and she wouldn't compromise those values for her own desires. She couldn't deny the chemistry and connection she felt, but she also understood the importance of boundaries and staying true to her principles. It was a delicate balance between her burgeoning feelings and her commitment to doing what was right.

In the following days, she wrestled with her emotions, trying to put distance between her heart and the potential complications that could arise. She focused on her art, pouring her feelings into her creations, finding solace in the brushstrokes that paint her emotions on the canvas.

That was until one day when she found herself at home, and the intercom unexpectedly rang.

"Ms. Y/L/N, there's a Harry Styles wanting to see you," the voice on the other end announced. Shock rippled through her; it had been a few weeks since she had last seen him. Y/N had purposely kept her distance, fully aware of the feelings that had developed within her.

"Yeah, let him in," she replied, a mix of anticipation and nervousness lingering in her voice. As she unlocked the door, she settled back into her painting, attempting to distract herself from the whirlwind of emotions.

The front door creaked open, and soon, a soft knock echoed through the space. "Y/N?" Harry's rough voice called out, filling the room with a mixture of familiarity and uncertainty.

"In here," Harry heard from the foyer, prompting him to close the front door behind him. He followed the sound of her voice, traversing through the space until he finally located her. There she was, sitting on the wooden floor with legs crossed, her hair fashioned into a bun, and wearing glasses that complemented. her.

Harry cradled a warm brown paper bag, emanating the aromatic allure of Chinese cuisine. He knew of this particular restaurant that served delectable dishes, a tantalizing choice for his unhealthy food cravings. Eager to share this delightful find with Y/N, he approached her with a welcoming smile, lifting the bag in presentation.

"I brought some food," he announced, the tantalizing aroma wafting from the bag.

Curiosity sparked in Y/N's eyes as she inquired, "What is it?"

"Chinese," Harry nervously replied, hoping that his culinary choice would meet her approval.

"Good choice," Y/N commended, setting aside her brush and rising from the floor. It was at that moment that Harry couldn't help but notice her attire – a pair of overalls, worn with an easy casualness. However, the revelation didn't stop there; the absence of anything beneath the overalls exposed the side of her breast, a subtle detail that heightened the air of intimacy in the room. The vulnerability of the moment lingered, as did the tempting aroma of the Chinese delicacies. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah” he cleared his voice, “just hungry” Harry didn’t know if he meant for the meal or fo the sudden urge that he had to feel her breast. He recognized that Y/N had distanced herself, a mirror to the sentiments he harbored toward her. The desire to be close to her lingered within Harry, fueled by a genuine fondness. He admired her, not just for her presence but for the profound connection that blossomed in their conversations.

Harry appreciated the way she listened, her attention genuine and unwavering. In those moments, he felt more than heard; he felt understood on a level that transcended the superficial. Y/N held the key to unraveling his thoughts and emotions, creating a unique bond built on mutual understanding and genuine connection.

"How have you been?" Y/N inquired, taking the lead as she guided Harry towards the living room. The air was charged with a mix of anticipation and a hint of vulnerability. "I saw your match last week. You played really well."

Harry's response held a touch of concern, reflecting the echoes of unanswered messages that lingered between them. "I haven't heard from you since your art show. I thought you were mad at me," he confessed, revealing the worry that had gnawed at him.

"I just thought it would be best to gain some distance between us," Y/N explained, her movements deliberate as she set plates on the coffee table. The unspoken complexities of their connection hung in the air, entwined with a hint of secrecy. "I-I am sure that Emma wouldn't like to know that we are spending this much time together."

As soon as the word 'distance' left her lips, a palpable tension surged through Harry. Panic set in, triggering a rapid response. He hastily placed the bag down, reaching out for Y/N. In a swift motion, he grasped her wrist, pulling her towards him with a sense of urgency.

"Harry," Y/N cautioned, her hand pressed against his chest, attempting to maintain a boundary. Yet, defiance glinted in his eyes as he refused to relent. He freed her wrist, wrapping an arm around her waist while the other found its place behind her head, gently pushing her closer.

"No," he declared, the word hanging in the charged atmosphere. His lips met hers with a hunger that spoke volumes, a fusion of longing and passion. Initially resisting, Y/N succumbed to the intensity of the moment, reciprocating the kiss with an equal fervor. The living room became a stage for a silent exchange, where unspoken emotions and lingering desires found expression in the fervent embrace of their lips.

“Yeah, that’s exactly how I’d imagined it”

QUESTIONS OF CHAPTER (answer below) Do you condone Harry and Y/N’s actions? Do think Emma deserves get cheated on?

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loveyazy · 22 days ago

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Got inspired by a friend's Elriel x Taylor Swift post!

1. Begin Again

I've been spending the last eight months thinking all love ever does Is break and burn, and end But on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again

Elriel passages

Elain cocked her head. Didn’t dissolve into the crying mess she usually became when Graysen came up.

-ACOSF, chapter 17

“I..." He watched her swallow. She clutched a small gift in her hands. "I was coming to leave this on your pile of presents. I forgot to give it to you earlier." Lie. Well, the second part was a lie. He didn't need his shadows to read her tone, the slight tightening of her face. She'd waited until everyone was asleep before venturing back down, where she'd leave her gift amongst his other, opened presents, subtle and unnoticed. Elain closed the distance, and her breathing quickened as she again paused, now a scant foot away. She extended the wrapped gift, her hand shaking. “Here."

— Azriel ACOSF BC

But he could have this. This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it. “Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut. He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers. Offer and permission.

— Azriel ACOSF BC

Rhysand blinked. "What of Mor, Az?" Azriel ignored the question. "The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak the words aloud.

— Azriel ACOSF BC

2. You Are In Love

But you saw enough Small talk, he drives Coffee at midnight The light reflects The chain on your neck He says, "Look up" And your shoulders brush No proof, one touch But you felt enough

Elriel passages

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight.

— ACOFAS

“It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, "Put it on me?"

— Azriel ACOSF BC

Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture. Elain shivered, and he took a damn long time fastening the clasp. Azriel's fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck. It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching.

— Azriel ACOSF BC

3. Lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover

Elriel passages

So Elain silently cried, the tears so unending that I wondered if it was some sign of her heart bleeding out. Some sliver of hope that had shattered today. That Graysen would still love her, still marry her—and that love would trump even a mating bond.

— ACOWAR

No, she tended to her gardens here, silently mourning her lost human life. Mourning Graysen.

— ACOFAS

Azriel didn’t let go. “Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”

— ACOFAS

and Azriel … those longing glances toward [Mor] had become few and far between. As if he’d given up. After five hundred years, he’d somehow given up.

— ACOSF

4. Daylight

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

Elriel Passage

But even the silence weighed too heavily, and though the shadows kept him company, as they always had, as they always would, he found himself leaving the room. Entering the foyer. Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was. The faelights gilded Elain's unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. She halted, her breath catching in her throat.

— Azriel BC

5. invisible string

Time, wondrous time Gave me the blues and then purple pink skies And it's cool, baby, with me And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?

Elriel passages

She was wearing a pale pink gown

— ACOWAR

Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.”

— ACOWAR

Azriel’s head lifted from where he was sprawled in his own blood, eyes full of rage and pain as he snarled at the king, “Don’t you touch her.” Mor looked at Azriel—and there was real fear there.

— ACOMAF

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

— ACOWAR

Azriel was nothing short of beautiful. Even with those scarred hands and the shadows that flowed from him like smoke, she’d always found him to be the prettiest of the three males who called themselves brothers.

— ACOSF

When human, Elain had easily been the prettiest of the three of them, and when she’d been turned High Fae, that beauty had been amplified.

— ACOSF

He’d flown in so silently, I hadn’t even heard the beat of his wings.

— ACOMAF

Elain was again at my side. I hadn’t heard her steps. Hadn’t heard any sound for moments.

— ACOFAS

Elain politely refused, taking up a spot in one of the wooden chairs set in the bay of windows. Also typical.

— ACOFAS

They’d sat in them, before this fire, so many times that it was an unspoken rule that Azriel’s was the one on the left, closer to the window

— ACOSF

6. willow

The more that you say The less I know Wherever you stray I follow Begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans That's my man

Elriel passages

“Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision.

Offer and permission.

— ACOSF BC

His stomach twisted as he pulled his hand from her hair and stepped back. Forced himself to say, "This was a mistake.” She opened her eyes, hurt and confusion warring there before she whispered, "I’m sorry."

— ACOSF BC

7. ivy

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand Taking mine, but it's been promised to another Oh, I can't Stop you putting roots in my dreamland My house of stone, your ivy grows And now I'm covered in you

Elriel passages

He offered her a smile back. "I wasn't sure if I should give you your present." He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.

8. cowboy like me

You're a cowboy like me Perched in the dark Telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear Like it could be love I could be the way forward

Elriel passages

“I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.”

— ACOWAR

Azriel donned the frozen mask he’d perfected while in his father's dungeon. "I don't know what you're talking about.”

— ACOSF BC

9. Guilty as Sin

I'm seeing visions, am I bad? Or mad? Or wise? What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh Only in my mind?

Without ever touching his skin How can I be guilty as sin?

I keep these longings locked In lowercase inside a vault Someone told me There's no such thing as bad thoughts Only your actions talk These fatal fantasies Giving way to labored breath Taking all of me We've already done it in my head If it's make believe Why does it feel like a vow We'll both uphold somehow?

Elriel passages

Mad. Elain might very well have gone mad—

— ACOWAR

"I have seen the victims of trauma before. Her symptoms match well with many of those invisible wounds. But … she was also Made by something I do not understand. Is there something wrong with her?” Madja chewed over the words. “I do not like that word—wrong. Different, perhaps. Changed.”

— ACOWAR

“A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

— ACOWAR

He had only allowed himself these thoughts in the dead of night. Had only allowed his hand to fist his cock and think about her then, when even his shadows had gone to sleep. How that beautiful face might appear as he entered her, what sounds she'd make.

— ACOSF BC

Her arousal drifted up to him.

— ACOSF BC

Elain shuddered, drifting closer. So close one deep breath would brush her breasts against his chest. She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open…

— ACOSF BC

She opened her eyes, hurt and confusion warring there before she whispered, "I’m sorry."

— ACOSF BC

10. The alchemy

I haven't come around in so long But I'm coming back so strong So when I touch down Call the amateurs and Cut 'em from the team Ditch the clowns, get the crown Baby I'm the one to beat Cause the sign on your heart Said it's still reserved for me Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

Elriel passages

Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days. But tonight, here in the dark and quiet, with no one to see…He pulled the small velvet box from the shadows around him. Opened it for her.

— ACOSF BC

She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open. “Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut.

— ACOSF BC (I know I used this again but it's perfect!)

I'm sure there are more but right now these popped into my head! And it's long enough already. Part 2 later?

#elriel #pro elriel #elain x azriel #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 1 year ago

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A/N ::: This is my first time writing a threesome. And I thought who better to do it with than KiriBaku and F!Reader. I hope it doesn't suck. Let me know! Thanks for checking this out, you guys.

C/W ::: Threesome (KiriBaku + F!Reader), F!Reader slightly spies on the two of them, nearly invisible coercion, Oral {M->F and a little later {F->M}, unprotected sex P->V, pulling out & cumming on F! back, F!'s first time with 2 men at the same time. I can't imagine a bad time would be had by anyone who's with these 2, aged up characters, Kiri is 25 and Kats is around there (I don't know how close they are in age canonically, so deal? Or tell me =). If I missed anything, grammatically or warning wise, let me know and I'll fix it. Thanks, hope you all enjoy this!

WC ::: 4,101

You stood there like a hypnotized idiot, staring at the 2 men as they talked over the picnic table at their campsite.

They noticed your attention. They noticed the first time, the third time. The twelfth time. And whatever number this time was.

You wondered if they were there together together. The way that they fed each other little bites of fruit at breakfast had you thinking. Had you hoping if you were being honest. Not that it'd make a difference. You were over here and they were over there.

The guys waved at you, smiling, laughing at your blank stare.

What they (probably) didn't know is that you were imagining what it would be like to be bent over the table they were eating at. Fucked by either one of them and sucking on the cock of the one who wasn't fucking you. You thought you were being discreet. Isn't that always what you think when you're lost in a daydream?

One of them had gotten up from the table and took a less direct route to where you were standing next to the tree. You were so focused on the blonde that you didn't notice the redhead coming up behind you.

The dazed look on your face was so cute, your finger stuck between your teeth and your thighs clenched together, adjusting your stance to create some friction from your jeans on your puffy clit. It was becoming unbearable. You turned to head back to your site and climb inside of your sleeping bag to ease the nagging of your cunt.

"Hi?" You nearly jumped out of your skin at the word. "OH ... oh my god. Hi. Sorry. There's just a little family of gray squirrels um, the other side of your camp. And I've been w-watchin' 'em." You tried. Your face was scrunched up as you forced yourself to lie to the redhead.

The man laughed. "Squirrels, huh. Yeah, gray squirrels are cute ... or whatever. Um, my friend and I thought maybe you were staring at us and we were going to invite you over to sit with us. If you wanted? Are you ... are you here by yourself? My name is Eijiro ... Kirishima. You can call me Kiri, though.

You smile and nod. "Yeah? I mean, yeah. I'd like that. I am here alone. 'S not much fun out here without some company." Kirishima turns to walk and leads the way to his camp where the blonde is sitting.

He doesn't look as friendly as Kirishima. But you've been known to have bad judgment before. So you give him a chance and you approach him with a sweet little smile and extend your hand. He doesn't do anything but take it and pull you down onto the bench of the picnic table between his spread legs.

"Pretty little mouth you got there." The blonde says. "Good call, Kiri." Kiri smiles and puffs his chest out playfully. "She does have a sweet lookin' little mouth, huh, Kats?" He asked.

Kirishima sits in front of you and reaches out to brush your hair away from your neck. He leans in and whispers in your ear, "So, what are you into?" You're taken aback by the question and unsure of how to answer it. "What ... what do you mean?" You stammer. "Camping? Mmm, I come out here sometimes when I have to get some clarity." You look at the blonde. "I didn't catch your name?"

Bakugo smirks. "Katsuki. Bakugo. And he wasn't asking whether or not you like camping ner--" He was interrupted by Kiri.

"Kats! Play nice with our new friend. Kirishima put his face back down against your skin and took a soft breath in. "Hohhh shit, man, she smells real pretty, too."

Katsuki brushes the hair aside from behind you and lines his nose up with the soft, warm spot on your neck just below your ear. "You're right. Pretty. Like ... like fucking vanilla and cinnamon. And like before sex." You swallow hard and Kirishima moves his head back to look at you. "See? He thinks so, too." The two men look back at each other and nod at some unspoken exchange that took place between them just seconds ago.

"You know," Katsuki said, "we were really hoping to run into someone out here this weekend. His hands were hot as they sat on your shoulders, occasionally giving you a little squeeze. Trying to reiterate their intentions.

"F-find some-someone? For what?" You asked. The sky was getting dark and the wind was picking up. "Why were you guys looking for someone?"

They both huffed a little breath through their noses and Kirishima said, "Fffor ..." he kissed the left side of your neck. Katsuki finished his sentence, "thisss." His lips found their way to the right side of your neck. They felt a little dry against your skin. But the heat coming off of them was undeniable. You try to close the space between one side of your neck but all that does is open up further for the other side to be touched.

"Smells s'good, fuck." Katsuki mutters to himself.

You let out a squeak as the situation settled into your brain. "O- oh. Oh! For that. I ... *aheh* I ... Ok."

No sooner had you finished figuring that out than a rumble of thunder spread through the atmosphere. It startled you so badly that you jumped back against Katsuki's chest and pulled Eijiro closer to you, his chest to yours. "Jesus fuck!" You yelled. "I h- thunder scares me sometimes. If I'm outside, anyway.

"Thunder scares you?" Kirishima asked.

You nodded, "Mhm, ever since I was a kid. I know it can't hurt me. But just the idea that the only tangible thing about is sound, I dunno. It fucks with my head."

Kirishima stood and pulled your hand, his eyes asking you to join him. You watched him as he tilted his head to their tent, urging Katsuki to guide you up and over there with him and you. Katsuki stood and took your other hand and they smiled at you as they gently brought you closer to where they had set everything up.

You weren't exactly resisting their guidance. But your feet were heavy as you plodded over with them. They were walking plenty fast enough to get all of you over there.

"This is us." Kirishima said. Katsuki began to unzip the door and he held it open for the two of you to walk in.

The tent was more like a tiny cabin; there was a little space just inside where shoes could be taken off and left there so no dirt would be tracked around in the sleeping area.

Once the three of you were in, the 2 guys took their shirts off and tossed them aside onto the bed. Kirishima motioned for you to come over to him and you walked there like you had no choice in the matter. Like he willed you there. And so it was.

He raised his arms out and put his hands on your shoulders. Tilting his chin down, he looked up at you through heavy lashes. "You ever been with 2 guys before, pretty girl?" Closing the space between you, he rubbed his nose against yours and flashed you a perfect smile. It brought up a heat in your stomach. You didn't know if you were nervous or excited. Nauseous or getting aroused.

"Don't be stupid, loser! She wouldn't be here if she didn't know what was going on!" Katsuki yelled.

"Excuse my friend ... he's always in a bad mood." Kirishima said as he glared over your shoulder at him. You nod and roll the edge of your hoodie between your finger and thumb.

Katsuki took the opportunity to pull you back against his bare chest and wrap his arms around you. "You're so cute. So much smaller than me." He laughed. "So soft." He whispered into your ear as he ran his hands over your waist, stomach and thighs. "Don't be afraid of us. We promise we're not gonna hurt'cha. Maybe stretch you out some ---"

"Bakugo! Don't scare her!" Kirishima tried to get his brazen friend back in line once again, but he had a smile on his face all the same.

You took the time while they had another quiet exchange to really look around. There was some kind of thick mattress under the 2 sleeping bags that had been zipped together to make one large one. You briefly counted 6 pillows. "You guys like pillows." You laughed for the first time since being brought here.

"Mhm, pillows = comfort. Speaking of comfort, you pretty little thing, why don't we get you more comfortable. May ... may I take your sweatshirt?" Kirishima asked as he rolled his thick fingers just under the hem of the piece of clothing you'd grown accustomed to fidgeting with. You put your arms up over your head so he could pull it off.

Kirishima stepped back for a moment and admired your body in your tank top and jeans. He had a smile on his face as he watched your breasts rise with each shallow breath you took. He pulled his eyes away and turned to Katsuki. "I think that's a good start." Bakugo said.

"I think so." Kirishima looked back at you with a little wink. "What d'you think, pretty? You good with us taking your hoodie off? You look real good ... real good to us. Isn't that right, Kats?" Kirishima asked him.

Katsuki nodded and walked up to you. He put his hands on your shoulders and tilted his head down to look you in the eyes. "We want you to feel good. To feel comfortable. You think you can do that for us? We just wanna have some fun." He shot a half smile at you and put his hand out for Kirishima to come over to him.

He walked to Katsuki and took his outstretched hand and stood close to him. Kirishima looked down at him and put his left hand on the back of his head, pulling him in for a slow, exaggerated kiss. You could see their tongues wrapping around each other.

"Mhmph ..." You exhaled a whine that was full of breath you didn't realize you'd been holding back. You hadn't noticed until you saw their tongues swirling around each other, but you were incredibly turned on. Your clit was throbbing and the wetness that had been slowly forming in your panties was becoming uncomfortable.

The two men pulled back from their kiss and smiled at you, their heads still touching. "We can make you feel so good." Katsuki whispered to you. "Do you want to? Do you want to have some fun and learn some new things?"

Kirishima got down on his knees and put his hands on the buttons of your jeans. "Is this ok, just gonna take your jeans off, yeah?" Kirishima asked you. You nodded. It was all you could do. You didn't want to talk and ruin the moment. You wanted to be quiet and watch as they slowly peeled off your clothing like you were a present they'd been waiting for.

Katsuki pulled the elastic waist of your tank top out and over your breasts, letting it fall back against you. He reached behind your back and unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the floor. Kirishima pulled down your jeans and panties and said, "Looks like she wants to." He kissed your thighs, letting his lips trail over your goosebump ridden skin.

"Are you cold, pretty? Let's go climb into the sleeping bag." Katsuki said.

It wasn't that you were cold, necessarily. But you had never felt so exposed in front of someone. Let alone 2 people. And yet, you had never felt so at ease. It was a strange combination.

Katsuki took your hand and led you to the sleeping bags. He lifted the flap and stepped back, nodding for you to go inside. You crawled in and situated yourself on the plush mattress, watching as the removed their pants, staying in just their boxers. The guys climbed in on either side of you.

You laid on your back, hands at your sides. You didn't know what to do with them having only been with 1 person at a time before this. They got settled on their sides, heads in their hands, watching you. Waiting for you.

Kirishima leaned over your tits and pulled Katsuki in for another kiss. Their eyes were locked on each other as they did so.

It was erotic. You had never seen two people kiss like this before. Katsuki had his hand on Kirishima's shoulder, his fingers squeezing the muscle there with each brush of their lips.

"Kiri, you wanna taste her?" Bakugo asked.

Kirishima nodded. "Yeah, yeah I do." He lowered himself down onto his stomach and scooted closer over to you. His face was between your legs, his eyes looking up at you as he brought his hand up and pushed your thighs apart. "Mmm, fuck, so wet for us already?" He asked. He dipped his finger into your folds and ran it up to your clit. "So wet, Kats. You wanna see?" Kirishima asked.

He pulled his finger out of you and held it out for Katsuki to suck on. "Yeah, so sweet. So fucking sweet, Kiri." You couldn't help but arch your back and push yourself down closer to Kirishima's fingers. They were just out of reach, though. "Kats, she's following my fingers. Watch ..." Kirishima said. He dipped a finger just inside your cunt and swirled it around the entrance.

The way you reacted to him caught Bakugo's attention almost immediately. You could hear how wet you'd gotten and the moan you let leave your lips was nothing short of filthy. And the sound your pussy made against his hand made you even wetter.

Katsuki crawled over you and propped himself up on his elbows above you, his face directly above yours. "Look at me." He said. "I want to see what you look like when you come. Kiri's gonna make sure you cum. But your eyes will stay on me. Got it, princess?" Katsuki asked you.

You nodded and whispered, "Yes." It occurred to you that you haven't really spoken since you got into the tent. Did you even tell them your name? You honestly couldn't remember and you honestly didn't care. You were responding to their little pet names for you marvelously.

Kirishima lowered himself back down and put his tongue flat against your clit, letting it move up and down. He flicked it against the sensitive bundle of nerves and then swirled it around it.

Bakugo lowered himself down and brought his lips to yours. He dipped his tongue inside of your mouth, finding yours, as Kirishima brought you closer to the edge of an orgasm. Katsuki brought his hand down and swiped a finger across your nipple, flicking it, sending shockwaves of pleasure to your cunt.

"Mmmph, mmmhmmmph" You moaned into Bakugo's mouth.

"Shhh, shh, pretty. I wanna hear you. Let me hear you come." Bakugo whispered as he pulled back from your mouth.

Kirishima wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, flicking his tongue back and forth rapidly. Bakugo watched as you writhed around, grinding yourself against Kirishima's face. Covering him with your slick as Katsuki put your hands on the back of Kiri's head so you could push him further into your dribbling cunt.

He was doing so perfectly on his own that all you could bring your hands to do was grab ahold of his hair and tug on it a little. He needed no guidance whatsoever.

Your body tensed up. Katsuki knew what was happening. He pulled your chin towards him and looked deep into your eyes. "Keep 'em open, baby. I wanna watch you."

Kirishima sucked harder and flicked his tongue faster. He inserted two of his fingers and began to pump them in and out of you. Dragging them over and over your walls. The sensations filling your body and the noises filling the air, all were bringing you over the edge.

You looked at Katsuki as best you could. Your eyes screwed shut at the height of your orgasm. "That's right, princess. Good girl. Just like that." He smiled. "Awesome, Kiri." Katsuki said. He ran his hand through Kirishima's hair, roughing it up a bit.

You laid there against Katsuki, panting. Kirishima had scooted up next to you, his face still wet with your juices. He kissed your neck and whispered in your ear, "So fucking sweet. Thank you for letting us play with you. You're so pretty. We just had to, baby."

Katsuki sat up and adjusted himself to sit up against the pillows. He pulled you up onto his chest and Kirishima scooted up behind you. His chest against your back. You could feel his cock hard against your ass. It was so hard, so big.

Katsuki tilted his head down and kissed you, running his tongue across your lips. You opened your mouth and his tongue was pushing its way into your mouth.

"Look at me, pretty." Katsuki said as he pulled back. You looked up at him. "You still want us?" He asked. You nodded. "You want us to fuck you, pretty baby? Let you feel us 'n let us feel you?" Katsuki asked. You nodded again. "Say it. Say you want us to fuck you."

"I want you to fuck me." You whispered. "Please." You added, meekly.

"Say no more." Katsuki pulled his boxers off and revealed his cock. It was big. Thick. You couldn't help but reach out and wrap your hand around it, stroking it.

You leaned down and brought your lips to it, kissing the head before opening your mouth and taking it in. "Mmmmph!" You moaned as Katsuki put his hand on the back of your head and pushed himself further into your throat. "Already breathin' through her nose. What a good girl you - ah fuck - are."

You pulled back and stroked him, twisting your hand as you did. "She's got a nice little mouth, Kats. Don't you think?" Kirishima asked. "She looks so pretty with your cock in her mouth." He added.

"Hey," Kirishima scooted down and pulled off his boxers, revealing his hard, throbbing cock. You could see the precum leaking out of the tip. "Can I fuck you now, pretty girl?" Kirishima asked, looking down at you, smiling and stroking himself at a lazy pace. "You look so good down there with Kats' cock in your mouth. I want to make you feel good, too."

You looked over your shoulder at Kirishima, nodding. You spread your legs and Kirishima positioned himself behind you. He squeezed your ass and he pushed himself into your dripping cunt. You could feel him stretching you out, filling you up. Your pussy looked so pretty with Kirishima moving in and out of you. The slick glistening on him in the shadowy light of the afternoon.

He pushed himself all the way in, bottoming out inside of you, his hips pressed against your ass. "Fffuuuuck ... oh, oh shit." Kirishima began to laugh and you looked up at Katsuki to see if this was typical behavior of his when he's fucking someone. He tilted his head to the left and watched himself disappear in your body. "I - hooo shit - did we … did we even get your name?"

"Mmmm, yeah, pretty girl. You never told us your name." Katsuki said, reaching out and running his thumb across your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked on it, swirling your tongue around it. "Tell us your name, baby." He said.

You let Katsuki's thumb out of your mouth and said, "Y/n. It's y/n."

"Well, hello, y/n. It's nice to ... have met you? Meet you? It's nice to have you here with us today." Katsuki said, fumbling for the right words as you ran your hand up and down his cock.

"Mhm, mhm, s'nice to meet you both, t- ... fuck, too. Heh, sorry. Just feels so damn good what Kiri's doing back there."

Kiri smiled at Kats and gave him a smug look. "You hear that, Kats? I feel so damn good back here." Kats flipped him off and rolled his eyes. "Whatever, shitty hair. I could make her brain come pourin' out of her ears. So shut the hell up." He said laughing.

The three of you continued to fuck like that, the tent filling up with the sound of your moans and the smell of sex. You could feel yourself getting close to coming again. Katsuki knew, he could see it all over your face; the way your eyes stayed shut for longer and longer amounts of time. How your mouth would hang open. Down to the turn of your head when Kiri hit those magical little spots inside of you.

"You close, pretty?" Katsuki asked. You nodded. "Me, too, pretty girl. Me, too."

You came. Hard. Your walls tightened around Kirishima's cock, forcing him to pull out of you and cum on your back, your ass. "Hohhh fuckshitfuck! Almost didn't make it there!" He laughed as he patted your ass cheeks and watched them bounce back against his palms.

You worked Kats’ dick through your second orgasm, bringing him to his first. Your mouth, ever diligent around his wide cock, sucking and slurping on it, minding your hand placement. Katsuki's cock began to throb harder and twitch against your lips and fingers. "You ready, pretty girl? You ready for me to cum in your mouth? Huh, princess?" You nodded and opened your mouth, holding your tongue out for him to cum on.

"Awwwh, fuck ... yeah. Good girl. Good girl. There you go. Oh shit ... oh shit." Katsuki watched you, your mouth, your eyes, his cum dripping down your chin. "Oh my god. Fuck, that was good. That was good." He smiled and pulled you up to his chest.

The 3 of you laid there, breathing hard and enjoying the afterglow of a good fuck.

"We're gonna have to do this again." Katsuki said.

"For sure. You were amazing, pretty. So good." Kirishima said as he ran his hand up and down your curvy sides and back. "So soft."

"So fucking sweet." Bakugo added. "Thank you for playing with us." He kissed the top of your head.

You didn't know what to say. It was all so overwhelming. You didn't want to go, either. But it felt awkward to impose yourself on their time together out here. So you said your goodbyes, dressed yourself, and headed back to your campsite, where you climbed into your tent and slept until the sun cycled through once again.

You didn't see Katsuki or Kirishima the next day. But you heard them from their tent. Moaning and talking loudly. It made you smile. It made you miss them. You hoped that they were enjoying one another. Maybe you'd find them again before you all left.

And now, you had a newfound love for camping. And you had a newfound love for being used by two hot guys who wanted nothing but to make you feel good and feel good with you. So maybe you'd come back with a plan. A plan to find them and bring them back to your little campsite, where you could lay under the stars and learn a little more about each other. Learn a little more about how you can make each other feel.

That sounded nice. And you could only hope that they would think so, too. After all, there were a lot of days left in the season and you didn't have anything better to do.

The sun woke you up the next morning. The leftover raindrops on the top of your tent looked so pretty, casting almost prism like lights across the small space. You rolled your sleeping bag down and crawled over to unzip the door. Stepping out, you stretched. For the first time in a long time you felt like you were actually breathing.

You looked over at where the guys' site was, but it was empty. "Damn." Turning back to your little spot, you noticed a plastic bag with a piece of paper in it, stashed between two small rocks.

"Hey pretty,

Thanks for playing with us.

Give either one of us a call if you want to reconnect.

Kats wants to fuck you this time so he’s really hoping you’ll call.

xoxo

~ Kiri (XXX-XXX-XXXX)

--> BAKUGO (XXX-XXX-XXXX)

Later, princess

Taglist ::: @callm3senpaii @millennialmagicalgirl @darkstarlight82

#kiribaku smut #kiribaku #kirishima x reader #kirishima x you #kirishima x y/n #bakukiri #bakushima #eijiro smut #kirishima smut #katsuki smut #bakugo smut #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader #katsuki x y/n

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yourhighness6 · 10 months ago

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NATLA Episode 2 Debrief (by yours truly)

Hi again! Here's episode 1 if anyone is interested. This is going to be another outrageously long post, just a tw

I absolutely loved the ominous start and then it's just:

They really captured the Zuko/Iroh dynamic the cartoon had in this scene. I hope they keep this sort of thing throughout the show. Also, side note, but for whatever reason Zuko seems a LOT more violent in this version. This child needs some serious therapy.

I guess this is their version of the map joke, huh? Low-key disappointed but not as mad as I thought I would be.

I'm not sure how I feel about the writers prolonging some of the conflicts that were resolved back in the SWT into this episode. I guess it makes sense that they would have to extend the drama, but I'm a little disappointed these thoughts didn't make it into the first episode. I'm glad they're included, but I think at this point team avatar had started to feel like family already in the cartoon, so it's kind of annoying and misses the mark a bit.

Yes I'm so glad they put GranGran's blessing back in! I was really mad when they took it out, but this honestly feels more meaningful than it did in the cartoon. It's a precious cultural artifact rather than just a couple of blankets. This is similar to what I was mad about with extending SWT conflicts, but I don't have nearly as much of a problem with it, as it seems like they're carrying a little piece of home with them rather than just extra drama.

The burial scene was very sweet and sad. It gave us a bit more insight into Air Nomad culture, and a sense of closure the cartoon didn't really give us. A+ for Gordon's acting as well (he is perfect for this part, even if he does still need some more acting experience)

Zuko has officially mastered the "my uncle dragged me here and I'm an agnsty teenager" face. A+ to Dallas for this entire scene. I am absolutely LOVING the Iroh and Zuko dynamic. Never change (jk I wish you a wonderful redemption arc)

Suki looks just as beautiful as she did in the trailer. Unfortunately can't say the same for the Kyoshi statue (I wish it had been made out of wood), but there is something to be said for the little shrines to the avatars instead of a few big ones. I actually kind of like that they changed that element, and I hope they explore it more in future episodes, because I assume some of the spiritualism surrounding them would have to be changed. Side note: but I've seen nothing of the spirit world so far and I'm getting a little nervous. I guess I wouldn't mind if they decided it was some long-lost avatar trick or is introduced in the NWT, but if they get rid of it altogether I'm gonna be pissed.

I'm glad they decided to make Kyoshi Island a matriarchal society instead of having a male leader. It just makes sense based on the lore and I like to see more strong adult women than in the cartoon. Also Suki got a mom! Maybe she'll get some development too!

This Aang speech was very in-your-face storytelling, but I feel like the whole show is gonna be like that so I'm just accepting it at this point. I think it stayed true to his character while getting the point across, and it also kind of helped his character compared to the cartoon. He's very emotionally open and has a charming nativity about him, but he's clearly trying to help. Loved it.

He's so awkward I love it. This whole interaction was really cool, because it expanded on their relationship in a cool way. They're both struggling between doing what their parents expect of them to help their respective villages, but are being faced with a pull to the outside world, Suki with her "big heart" and Sokka with his need to protect Katara. Thishonestly gives more depth to their relationship and I don't mind the writers dragging out first episode conflicts if this is how they're choosing to explore them.

Aww look at these cute little siblings. I like that the writers are giving them more time to progress from strangers to besties. Their interactions seem more natural, and Aang's grief more realistic. It's also great to once again see Katara growing more confident and powerful in her abilities. I love the smell of some good character development in the making.

Look at her face! She's like,"I'm so good at flirting. Mother would be proud." Meanwhile Sokka's scared of her. Anyway I'm living for their scenes and they're making me giggle. (Despite Sokka's sexism being toned down it still exists to a lesser level and I love to see her beating his ass while he tries to flex)

I love the new subplot! I love that flashback! I love this conflict! It gives more credence to his fears as a prodigy. Whatever writer came up with this deserves a hug.

AHH the ship is sailing! I love Sokka learning to be more open minded! I love Suki learning to be more open-hearted! I love when characters in romantic relationships learn from each other! This is giving Suki and Sokka development in ways the cartoon did not without trying to play Sokka's sexism off as a joke and also giving us more screentime and when I say I love it I mean I am doing a happy dance right now!

Okay, so just a quick word on shipping besides Sukka because as Zutara trash I am legally required to do this:

It seems like they are keeping the zutara hope parallel intact, with Katara and Zuko both finding hope in the avatar but in different ways. However, I don't think this really changes anything. So far, there's beven nothing to suggest they're going with ZK instead of KA, and I'm a little worried that they're trying to parallel Sukka and KA wwith the way they're setting up both girls as kind of a "teacher" to the boys in a way and giving both ships a huge amount of screentime in the same episode. Also, and I hate to say this, they might be attempting to fix KA by toning down Katara's anger and her "dark side". She didn't get angry to break the iceberg and they're eliminating her entire waterbending scroll plotline. They're trying to make them a better match for each other by watering her down and therefore increasing her connection with Aang and decreasing the chance of a future connection with Zuko over their anger and shared trauma. It's sad news that I didn't want to deliver, and I've seen spoilers that there is another ZK moment later down the line, but at this point, I think KA is a lot more plausible than ZK. *cries*

In slightly less depressing news, they're inserting the avatar state plotline a lot earlier. This makes sense with the condensed timeline, and I think I like the way they're going with it so far. I hope they keep the concept of avatar guide intact, though, and I'm worried that they're going to play into more of a connection to all of his past lives instead of just Roku. I kind of hate Roku but I do think that's a major concept I don't want them to get rid of, and his inaction during a time of adversity mirror's Aang's own challenges with confrontation. Their dynamic is a good one, and I wouldn't be opposed to changed but I really hope they don't entirely throw it out.

Scratch whatever the fuck I said before. I'm back on my shipping bullshit I can't believe we got a BONUS FIGHT! Also kudos to whoever decided Zhao should burn the village instead of Zuko. I was always so pissed at him whenever I rewatched this episode and now I can sleep easy knowing it was that military dipshit instead of him

I love Kyoshi to an unhealthy extent but I kind of wish Katara had been the one to go off on him. It would have seriously fixed things.

COUPLES THAT FIGHT TOGETHER ARE THE BEST COUPLES CHANGE MY MIND

Also, side note, but I love the hair these in fight scenes:

Most action movies hairspray the shit out of them but these actors are allowed to look a little disheveled while they kick ass. Huge thank you to whoever decided that more natural hair is superior cuz they are 100% correct

THE BONUS FIGHT SCENE IS NO LONGER COOL I REPEAT THE BONUS FIGHT SCENE IS NO LONGER COOL

I think this was the perfect conclusion to Sukka (for now)! Sokka learned something so much more valuable and impactful than in the cartoon, in my opinion. His masculinity is handled very well in my opinion, and even if I would have liked to see him wear the warrior outfit, there's something really great about the way he continues to embrace protectiveness, a masculine trait, while having rid himself of toxic masculinity, such as not being able to learn from others. He's leaving a more open minded and humble person and I love the way they portrayed it.

Okay the speech was a little on the nose but I liked it. One of the best things about ATLA was the way they executed Aang's childishness ending up beneficial for the world. I think the new conflict is expanding on that nicely while staying true to its roots. *pats writers on the head*

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH IS THIS REAL I LOVE IT SO MUCH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

IM TRYING SO HARD NOT TO THINK ABOUT THIS LINE AND HOW IT COULD BE ANOTHER PARALLEL TO K/A I HATE IT BUT I LOVE IT AT THE SAME TIME LETS JUST FOCUS ON SUKI SAYING SOKKA HELPED HER AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Also the fan was so cute. That last scene on Appa really wrapped everything up nicely. I like the way they tied in the conflicts between the siblings while engineering growth for Sokka.

Daniel Kim delivered in his two seconds of screentime. Zhao was such a bitch but idk what else I expected. Can't wait to see more of these two bastards in future!

Anyway, to recap:, things I did like:

Aang's new conflicts

Sokka's mini arc

SUKKA

Expanding on Katara's PTSD

Zhao burning the town instead of Zuko

Zuko and Iroh's dynamic

Things I didn't like:

Katara's characterization

Lack of Aang's actual avatar guide

K/A hints and lack of zutara implications

Postponing the Zhao and Zuko agni Kai

Overall, I have to say I think that they're playing into the core themes very well while expanding on the characters. If it weren't for the whole Katara debacle this would be a 9/10 episode, but with the Katara debacle imma give it a 7/10. Still, I can at least understand why the writers made their crappy decisions, even if I don't agree with them. Hopefully certain things are fixed in future episodes, but as it stands I think I'll live (barely)

#natla debrief #emmie babbles #zutara #sukka #aang #sokka #suki #zuko #katara #avatar the last airbender #natla episode 2

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twistyfish · 7 months ago

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𝙎𝙖𝙡(𝙞)𝙫𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣

requested by @lilacmingi ♥

~☁☼☁~

You patted a stray hair off your lilac skirt, the velvet plush beneath your shaking fingers. You pulled at a tight coil of your hair, twisting and releasing it from your updo. An unexpected weakness had befallen you. Goosebumps littered your chest, the deep neckline normally thrilling but unwelcome today as you shook with chills.

It was an unfortunate time to fall ill, as you were attending a ball of great grandeur. The domed ceiling of the palace was ivory, etched with intricate depictions of gothic scenery. Angels clashed spears with the fangs of great beasts, serpents and hounds alike coming to wage battle on the figureheads of Heaven. Marble pillars held up the artwork in a star pattern, and moonlight filtered in through the multicolored windows. You felt rather small in comparison to the rich, dizzying landscape.

You sat in a corner with your head against the wall, still overwhelmed. You had managed to sneak out into a narrower hall, seeking a smaller space, though this smaller space was still large enough to house a baby giant.

"My dear, you seem lost." A short man in a lacy top and slick raven hair walked up to you from around the corner. Your eyes widened, and you scrambled to get up. Your blood pressure dropped as you stood, and you leaned against the wall.

The man chuckled. It was a pitchy, sinister sound. "Did I take your breath away? I apologize."

"No, not at all," you said breathlessly.

Something about this man seemed familiar. "From where are you visiting?" You asked.

He grinned, pointed incisors gleaming. "Family of the host."

Oh.

"You're Bumjoong's brother?"

He nodded and extended a gloved hand to you. "You can call me Hongjoong. Come, let me take you back to the ballroom." You groaned internally, not wanting to go back to the loud, sweaty room you had just escaped. But you had to be polite.

You took his hand in yours, wrapping your fingers around his. His hand was nearly the same size as yours, which was kind of charming. He led you to the ballroom, which was gargantuan in comparison to the already huge hall you had come from. Scarlet curtains adorned the massive windows, and amber lights framed the huge room. People whirled around in masses, and you already felt queasy.

Maybe your discomfort was visible, because Hongjoong tilted his head to look you in the eyes. "Such events aren't much to my taste either. But we shall converse to pass the time, yes? What's your name?"

You told him, and he spoke it aloud carefully, as though pronouncing a word from another language. "How melodious. It suits its owner." He ran his tongue across his pearly teeth absentmindedly. His skin was pale, but not with any rosy or golden undertones. His pallor was like milk. Almost like there was no blood running under the skin. His nose was small and sharp. His features were almost too perfect.

He noticed you examining him, and he smiled with his chin resting on one hand, revealing his pointed teeth once again.

You cleared your throat. "You know, there are rumors of your family being vampires," you remarked, holding back a cough.

"Is that so? What do you think about them?" He seemed truly interested.

"I think there are a lot of things I've yet to see in this world."

He laughed heartily at that. "Did you know vampire saliva has healing properties? Our ashes too, but I'd rather not deal with the implications of that option. I think it would be beneficial for me to demonstrate."

"Oh? Why?" The corners of his lips twitched up. "You're not feeling well, are you my dear?"

You feigned ignorance, but he was right. You were intensely feverish. "Perhaps I'm not feeling all that fit," you admitted.

"Then let me show you my theory."

Your brows twitched, a bit of feverish delirium surfacing. "How do I know you won't bite me?" You asked in a low voice.

"I guess you'll have to take a chance." And with that, his lips were on your neck. You gasped as his tongue drew a line from your clavicle to the crook of your neck, and his lips gently closed around a patch of flesh. His teeth grazed your skin, but true to his word, he never bit.

His arm looped around your waist as you sank to the floor in his arms, his rough tongue still lapping at your neck. Your eyes rolled back as he tenderly sucked you like a thick smoothie.

Within a few minutes, a cool sensation spread from the base of your neck through your body, and he rubbed your arm as you shuddered. Your wooziness faded gradually.

"Better?" He asked.

"Yes," you said.

Unfortunately, quite a few people were now staring at you.

Oops.

~☁☼☁~

requests are open!

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong #vampire!au #vampire!hongjoong

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titlemewickedwonderland · 1 year ago

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I've Got You (Ghost Oneshot)

Summary: After being rejected time and time again. After being abandoned by so many other people in her life; Y/n fears getting close to someone but her heart is weak and when she grows attached to Swiss; one of Papa's ghouls, she's scared that she'll lose him too, and the thought nearly breaks her apart.

Prompt:

3. One falling asleep on the other's lap

2. "I'm not going to leave you."

Follow My Work!

Request Board!

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a dim glow upon the desolate courtyard. In a quiet corner of the Abbey's gates, a young girl named Y/n stood alone, her heart heavy with sadness. With tears streaming down her face, she hugged her coat tightly around her shivering body. The bitter cold bit at her exposed skin on her legs from her dress, mirroring the icy emptiness she felt inside.

Y/n's once vibrant eyes, filled with hope and innocence, now reflected a profound sense of abandonment. Her parents, consumed by their own demons, had long since disappeared down the road and out of her life, leaving her to fend for herself and in the care of the Abbey that she had once enjoyed coming to visit. They had promised to be there for her, to protect and love her unconditionally. But their hollow words had turned to echoes, fading into the darkness along with their presence; just like everybody else in her life whether friends or family had. Was it her fault? Had she not done enough? Could she have done more?

She stood on the sidewalk, watching the world go by. In the pale light of the moon she felt invisible, a forgotten soul lost in the sea of despair and confusion. The weight of her solitude bore down on her fragile shoulders, threatening to break her spirit.

A gust of wind swept through the empty courtyard, rattling discarded leaves from the trees along the ground and sending a chilling breeze through Y/n's clothes. She hugged herself tighter, desperately seeking solace in her own embrace. As she looked up at the flickering lights that surrounded the Church, its feeble glow provided little comfort in the vastness of her loneliness.

A soft shuffle of footsteps came closer to her casting her gaze away from the building to find Papa standing there in his nightclothes with a robe on to fight off the chill. His unpainted face looked worn and sad; for her maybe as he extended his hand to her with a small smile.

"It's alright, mi cario. Come, come with me; let's get you out of the cold. There are some people who'd be happy to see you again."

But would they? Who would care? Memories of better days flooded her mind, teasing her with fleeting moments of joy. She recalled the laughter that once filled her home, the warmth of her parents' hugs, and the feeling of being loved by friends and family alike. But those memories had become distant whispers, fading remnants of a life she once knew.

A single tear fell from her cheek, freezing as it touched the ground. She gazed into the distance past Papa's figure to the entrance of the only place that truly stayed intact in her memories, searching for a beacon of hope, a sign that someone cared. A figure in the shadows moved into the light revealing the familiar face of her closest friend - at the sight of him her heart broke and she pushed past Papa; racing down the bricked pathway as if her very life depended on it and straight into Swiss' arms; her body slammed against his nearly knocking them to the ground but he stabilized himself and picked her up; holding her tightly against his chest as her body shook with loud unashamed sobs that echoed into the night.

With a nod to Papa across the yard the Multi-ghoul took his charge back to the ghoul's wing. Everyone else was sleeping in their rooms not yet awake as it was late so he took her to his bedroom and softly closed the door. He stretched out on his pillows; cradling Y/n to his chest as she shook from the sheer force of her crying. He knew her troubles with her family; knew that the damage that had been inflicted emotionally would leave a scar on her trust and her heart but she was not alone - he wouldn't let her be alone anymore. He had put hope in her parents to change their ways and they had failed, no more. No one else would hurt her as long as she had him.

"It's okay, starlight." he murmured pressing a kiss to her head as his strong hand, the hand that never in her time of knowing him had ever done her wrong, stroked soothingly along her back - easing the pain that her heart endured.

"I don't understand. What did I do wrong? What have I ever done wrong to anybody that warrants them leaving me? Am I that unlovable?" she whimpered shutting her aching eyes from the burn of her heartbreak.

"No, sweetheart. You did nothing wrong. You have done enough; more than enough. They did you wrong. They may leave you," his hand cupped her face, drawing it up to look down at her and gently wiping the wetness of her sadness from her cheeks.

"I swear to you, when everybody else leaves. I will never leave you Starlight. Never." he whispered staring down at her heartbroken expression.

"But what if you do? What if you find out I'm not good enough?" Y/n's whispered through trembling lips.

He gave her a sad smile of understanding as he pressed a kiss to her brow. "You, Y/n, are more than enough. You are perfect just the way you are; faults and all." he murmured pressing their forehead together.

"You promise?" Y/n whispered searching his face.

"I swear on everything I am worth, darling. You won't ever lose me. Through fire and hell itself. I will never leave you." Swiss promised seriously as he searched her tear-stained face and reddened eyes.

Without a word, Swiss bundled her arms against him; pulling the blanket up around them. The warmth of his embrace instantly melted away the chill in her heart that lay heavy in her chest. Y/n's head found a resting place on his shoulder, her tears trickling down her cheeks. But Swiss held her gently, his touch conveying both strength and tenderness.

The sound of winter's raindrops tapping against the window outside created a soothing backdrop as the two friends sat in silence. Swiss knew that sometimes, words weren't necessary, that the power of presence and touch could speak volumes. So he let Y/n take her time, allowing the emotions to flow freely and without judgment.

With every passing moment, as her tears slowly dried, Y/n felt a sense of release, as if the weight she had been carrying had been shared and lightened. Swiss' rhythmic breathing and the gentle strokes on her back provided a grounding presence, reminding her that she wasn't alone in her struggles.

With a lingering kiss to her head, Swiss whispered softly, "I'm here for you, starlight. You're not alone."

His voice was a comforting lullaby, soothing Y/n's restless mind. In that moment, their friendship transcended the bounds of mere companionship. They became pillars of support for one another, offering solace and understanding in a world that could sometimes feel cold and unforgiving.

Time seemed to suspend itself as Y/n surrendered to the embrace, feeling the warmth of their connection. The storm outside may have raged, but inside the haven of their friendship, there was tranquility. The simple act of being held provided a safe space for her to let go of her worries, to let the tears flow without restraint and without judgment.

As the rain began to subside and the room filled with a gentle calm, Y/n's sobs transformed into gentle sniffles. Swiss tightened his grip, silently communicating his unwavering support. In that shared moment, the love and trust between them grew deeper, forming a bond that could weather any storm.

Eventually, Y/n's tears dried, and she lifted her head from Swiss' shoulder. She looked into her best friend's eyes, a mixture of gratitude and understanding reflected in her gaze. With a soft smile, the ghoul wiped away the remnants of tears from Y/n's cheeks, and together they embraced even tighter, knowing that their friendship was a constant source of comfort and strength.

In that bedroom, with raindrops fading away, Swiss and Y/n basked in the warmth of their friendship, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, offering cuddles of comfort whenever needed and at that moment, Y/n made a silent promise to herself. She would gather the fragments of her shattered heart and build something new, something stronger. With each step she took, she vowed to rise above the pain, forge her own path and create her own destiny.

The world may have abandoned her, but she would never abandon herself. She would rise, a survivor of abandonment, and find her place in a world that had forgotten her, proving that she was more than the girl left behind. And at her side would be her best friend and the support of her other friends who slumbered nearby in the other rooms.

#ghost band #ghost #the band ghost #ghost fandom #swiss ghoul #swiss ghoul x reader #swiss army ghoul #ghost swedish band #swiss #swiss x reader

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fountainpenguin · 11 months ago

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"You're on your own- So what? Have you gone blind? Have you forgotten what you have and what is yours?" (x)

---

For Sale: Bird Wings (Never Worn)

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Complete! - 7/7 chapters - 37k words

💚 More Neighborhood Watch AU

I just finished a chill, T-rated found family 'fic from my "Life Series but it's a single timeline" AU project. Check it out!

---

Synopsis: When Grian Ties’g was 16, the last Totem of Undying in the known world swapped his soul with the Grian one universe to the left… sparing him a perma-death, but at what cost?

An overwhelmed Grian Xelqua - who did not sign up for this, thank you very much - jolts awake in a world where Red Names are no joke and stealing someone’s life is fair play.

And a very Red Tango now has a sword at his throat. ❤️

(First 1,300 words under the cut)

---

For Sale: Bird Wings (Never Worn)

Those Who Came Before

🖤 🖤 ❤️

The first Totem of Undying in the Four Lands passed through the wrinkled hands of many wealthy folks in Crimson City before falling into possession of a princess who went Red young and fled her home. She kept it all her life, but when the time came to breathe her last, she unwound it from its place at her bosom and clasped it around the neck of her only son.

"I've lived enough," she simply said. "I've led so long and you've been faithful. Go now and do as you see fit with your given lives."

Steve Wandering watched his mother die as he had watched his father, burying the memories of both with shovel and silence. He'd always been a silent man. He took up his sword and from then on traveled decade after decade, sharing food with the needy and braving the hissing creatures of the night. He invented many things, discovered many treasures, and died glorious in a fight against the Dragon That Ends All.

And lived.

And lost those memories like the wind.

The second Totem of Undying in the Four Lands belonged to Alex Wolftamer in the east, who claimed to care not for the treasure passed down through her ancestral line of Wolf Kings and Queens. They had no palace, but called themselves such titles in their stand against Kingdom Crimson. Rather than flaunt that totem around her own neck, she wrapped it like a collar at the throat of her dog. Across the years, far too many people of sinister desire fought sword and pick to win her hand or win the hunting hound. It's with a shout and diamond axe that she lunged at the cloaked stranger who ventured through the valley forest. With cheery, bellyaching laugh, Herobrine caught her hand and spun her dangerously near the mountain drop.

"Why should I take from your beloved she-wolf?" he asked, and dangled a totem from his own wrist where she could see. "I've already got one. I did not come to take what loved ones gave unto you, but to inquire of your wisdom… for I have no one I love as much as you care for your dear wolf. I am but a cowardly man who's worn the totem for himself for security and peace. I cannot imagine surrendering it. Tell me, warrior… How did you find such inner peace?"

"Who says I have?"

"What ails you, then?"

"I fear the encroach of the Red Army. Their farms extend ever nearer to our forests. Their high-ranking officers, bearing the Hand mark upon their chests, come demanding tribute and insist we raise their banner. So many from our village have sought the safety of their walls. I wish for nothing but food for my dogs, repairs for my roof, and safe passage through the land."

"Ah… What have you done to incite their displeasure?"

"I haven't raised hand against them unless they've come directly in conflict with me."

"How frequent are their conflicts?"

"They've claimed our cows. They flood the roads to market with lava and have taken two lives- nearly three. They harass the trades I make with my own neighbors of my own free will."

"Let us go secretly, then, and burn the walls that have reached your valley's edge."

They married two years later, and it was four after that that Alex fell from a great height, one arm wrapped around her canine companion and the other reaching for a husband who lunged and missed her hand vanishing from the cliff. Alex hit the ground a block away from the rushing river that saved her dog.

And lived.

And lost those memories like rain. Not even the dog recognized her then, growling and nipping when Alex rose to her feet, and Snowflake followed Herobrine when they parted ways. They say he never took Snowflake's totem from her collar, but that Snowflake wriggled out of it the day after Alex died, took the chain in her teeth, and presented it to him with grief in her dark eyes. It may be just a story - a personification of a ragged beast - but it's a prettier tale than the alternative way this tale could end.

That third Totem of Undying, the one that Herobrine Mapcrafter wore on his wrist for much of his life, originated from the North. It tumbled through the hands of wizards and they say Herobrine was gifted it for his proven mastery in breaching the Nether dimension- the secrets of which had only been held by the Westlands until now.

Prior his apprenticeship beneath the wizards' eyes, he'd been raised a cartographer. Following the death of Alex, he took up mapmaking again with Snowflake by his side. He entered the Nether dimension for what he knew would be his final time. They never came out again and no record survives depicting full details. People speak often that he perhaps saved a community of Netherborn folks from a hissing, snarling Wither Boss that clawed its way out of the ground. Others whisper he released that Wither himself out of grief and wished for death. Witnesses claim he leapt before the beast, taking the hit on Snowflake's behalf.

And lived.

And lost those memories like they'd been scorched alive. They say he went mad, never the same again. Some claim they've seen Snowflake's white fur dashing through the Nether even now, her howl weeping for her masters and the moon and the feel of grass beneath her paws.

The last Totem of Undying in the Four Lands (rumor claimed) lay hidden in the Southlands. For three decades since the rise of the Dragon That Ends All, the unremarkable little thing drifted and tumbled and snagged or… something of the sort. Details unknown. It passed into the sewers at some undefinable point, where it floated until it didn't. It caught and clung to the sewer's edge year after year after year.

There it stayed until a ragtag tangle of friends - a trio - sought shelter in the tunnels after their brotherhood of Bad Boys split and turned against each other. They trekked without hesitation into the grime, for they were Red of name and disgust could graze them not. The youngest, with his gray and yellow wings, sat down near the entrance to clean an open wound. The eldest began to organize their meager food supply. The middle child, aged only 16, waded deeper through the passageway, wandering with little purpose but to scout for things to have; things to take. Red Lives, as a rule, are very, very greedy.

The totem lasted exactly 4 minutes and 36 seconds in Grian Ties'g's possession. He found it tangled among the filth and wasted no time taking it for himself. To prevent his fellow Bad Boys from sniping it away, he scrambled up a dirty shaft to the surface like an eel gifted flight. His wings were soaked from sewage water, so he did not fly. He bolted across the open field, laughing like a madman.

"Yes! YESSSS!"

His foot crossed a boundary line he never could have seen. Grian charged straight into a shrieker trap laced with TNT. Set them all off. He died to the gasping cheers of a Red who'd only just finished all the set-up. The last thing he ever heard was the "OH-hoh-hoh-ohhh!" of a shrieking onlooker. He blew up instantly, scarlet feathers and blobs of purple soul energy scattered in all directions. The central core melted free from flesh and dribbled to the ground in a gooey heap.

In a word? Perma-killed. The totem vaporized before anyone ever confirmed he had it, so people seek it in the Southlands even now (It might be right here; it's been hiding right here).

This story is not about that Grian. Not anymore. It's about the one who lived… whose memories do not match this world at all.

[ Full 'fic up on AO3 ]

#trafficblr #Grian #TangoTek #Skizzleman #Team Rancher #Bad Boys #Heart Foundation #desert duo #Jimmy Solidarity #Joel Smallishbeans #GoodTimesWithScar #mcyt #ridwriting #apparently art #fic announcement #trafficfic #Neighborhood Watch AU

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valeriefauxnom · 4 months ago

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A Subtle Running Theme

So, a day or two ago, I had the sudden realization about a theme in Abyss that I'm not sure I've seen addressed: 'getting what you wanted in the past that you no longer want now' and how that might influence the ending. Major Abyss spoilers up ahead!

Take Guy, for instance. He, of course, wanted to kill Luke fon Fabre.

He doesn't any more. He wants Luke to live and live well.

And yet...

Asch dies nearly instantly after he finally declares he intends to accept the 'Luke' identity:

...and then Luke follows in short order, despite his fervent wish to see what was done to his family returned to the Duke's.

Jade's another case.

His original intent when he first started working to create replicas was to use them as replacements for the originals, just as substitute bodies to revive the dead, memories and all. He worked and worked hard to find a way to make this dream come to life, modifying the means by which replicas are made in an effort to increase their stability (by means of switching to 7th fonons as their origin fonon).

Since then, he's moved on to believe that such a thing is just flat out impossible. That the dead do not come back, and that everything he did was a fool's errand.

But then, his 'impossible dream' of the Big Bang suddenly is possible. He gets to see it with Star, the original successfully taking over his replica's body, his mind intact...and now is faced with the prospect of it happening to Luke.

Which, again, is a thing he no longer wants.

Jade, shortly after: ...But this time, I do hope that the answer I’ve produced is incorrect.”

I also quote, from a talk between him and Dist, it's clear that Jade is trying very hard to avoid acknowledging the reality for what it is, that Asch will almost be guaranteed take over Luke's faculties and body in the near future, whilst not trying to appear weak to Dist:

Dist: ...Regardless of what caused his death, we can assume the Big Bang had begun. Jade: ...It may not have begun. Dist: What is that supposed to mean?! You're the one who finalized the theories on perfect isofons! Do you not believe your own research?! The Jade that I knew – Jade the Golden Child – isn't someone who would say something like that. ... Dist: Or is that replica that important to you? More than your best friend, Saphir?! Jade: The dust on the floor has value compared to you. Dist: Listen, Jade. The Contamination Effect cannot be prevented. Even with your talent.

Despite this attempt, Dist recognizes that Jade is not exactly happy with this fact, and tries to console Jade, while displaying his own perspective of 'memories=person' that Jade has moved on from. You know it's bad when Dist is attempting to console Jade in his own warped little way.

What had been his greatest dream is now a worst nightmare: Luke, as confirmed on Eldrant, would have lost his life and mind regardless if he survived the freeing of Lorelei, all to be a backup to the currently-dead Asch.

Hell, I can extend this to Natalia, too. She, in essence, wished for Luke to stop being himself the past seven years. To hurry up and re-become that prince charming she saw in Asch before his 'amnesia'. And soon he will, just as she has started to learn to appreciate Luke for his own merit instead of just being the inferior reflection of Asch.

Luke himself is not immune, either.

Starting at act two, Luke is increasingly depressed. He goes from passively wishing that maybe he ought have died to actively thinking dying would be the best for the world.

Enter Tower of Rem, where he finally decides that he actually wants to live. Lo and behold, it's exactly then the universe then decides to ensure a death in the near future for him via fonon separation. Not just that, but his journey's course leads to a duty that will kill him. Doomed twice over to certain death.

And that's not all. Another struggle he has is determining his own self identity. He finally resolves to want to be his own person, be able to have his own mind and body separate from just being 'Asch's replica' or 'Asch' at all in any capacity. This is a big thing that starts to anger Asch in the ending, as Asch has his own complicated feelings on Luke's independence from him and what it means for his own impending death (that I could and might rant about in another post).

Again, though, even that is possibly contested in the ending.

In short, Jade, Luke, and Guy all got what they wanted at the end of Abyss... just not what they wanted in the present.

---

So, uh, yeah!

I see a lot of arguments that it just has to be Luke in the end, that he's the protagonist and thus is more untouchable/more likely to be revived than less central characters like Asch, and that it would be against Abyss' themes of self-determination to have that mysterious figure be anything other than Luke in body and (complete) soul.

However, with Abyss also consistent in its 'be careful what you wish for' narratives that come back to bite and bite hard the good chunk of the cast, I would argue it's entirely possible to have the ending be but another case of this corruption of past wishes.

#tales of the abyss #That being said I will again say I do think Abyss' ending is ultimately ambiguous.#I just think that there's far more room for a bitter or bittersweet ending than many make it sound!#tales of the abyss spoilers #Four of the party wanted Luke dead at some point in their lives in different ways. Some literal. Others figurative.#And they get what they want only exactly when they didn't want it anymore!#There's a certain degree of beautiful tragedy in that and to me I can find an ending with that compelling.#Add in the slightly broader theme of 'getting the opposite of what you want' with Asch (who at least somewhat wanted death) and boom!#He wanted death and now gets to live. He wanted Luke to replace him but now is replacing Luke.#Sorry for the rambling and I'm probably expressing myself poorly but argh. Thoughts(tm) emerged!

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libras-interactives · 10 months ago

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Do you have any OC’s for Lackadaisy who didn’t make it into the fic or who were made after you started writing? I love hearing about all of them so much

;v; wagh

So 2~3 of these kitties are connected to Devil's Moon characters but probably won't show up (or at least, will only be mentioned), and two arent related to it at all.

Viviana Carmina Holst - Slyvester's wife, who Ive thought so much about but may not even show up "on camera" LOL. A calico with auburn hair she keeps in a fairly old-fashioned style, to match her more modest dress. She's thin and has big, bright green-brown eyes.

She's quite sociable, observant, easygoing and a terrible cardshark. She loves company and doesn't get it nearly as much as she'd like; they live in a modest yet well-decorated home outside St. Louis city limits. Carmina comes from a large Italian family. She was the first of her siblings to be born in America. She's always been known as Carmina to them (there were already three Vivianas in the extended family), and Vivi to her husband.

Because she and Slyvester could not have children, they adopted three nephews after the boys' parents passed (Carmina's side). The boys are now grown and the two oldest are quite successful. The youngest still lives with them to help his mother, as Carmina is disabled and Slyvester works a lot, and they've yet to find a live-in nurse that suits them.

Carmina and Slyvester grew up together in the same Italian-majority neighborhood; his family is Danish and was one of the few non Italians on the block. Carmina's parents approved of him bc he agreed to convert, they knew he wasn't a drinker, and they were relieved their sickly daughter was able to get married and have someone take care of her for the rest of her life.

Flynn's Family - I've thought a lot about them but I don't think they'll be super relevant or come up, alas. His older brother Seamus is fairly important to the business, but rarely makes himself known. He has some pretty bad physical and mental damage from the war, so tends to be anti-social, plus years of Flynn's emotional manipulation have taken their toll. Tomas was the youngest and the golden child, died in the war. Flynn couldn't stand him. Sorcha was older than Tomas but younger than Flynn, I'm still unsure what happened exactly, but she's not around her parents anymore. They didn't really dote on her like they did the boys, or Tomas.

Their mother was tall and slender, while the father was more stout and broad, and a little shorter - only Seamus had his build and coloring, the rest of the children were looked and were built like their mama. All of them had orange and black markings but the Flynn we know is the only chimera.

I keep wanting to think of more for the family - their history, and appearances and whatnot, but then I pull back because it "won't be relevant" in Devil's Moon ... well, might do it anyway bc I just like writing family dynamics and drama, lol. I already wrote a ton about Carmina so might as well.

Okay these two are 100% not UTDM related and from an Arkham Horror board game/kinda tabletop bc we rp'd it a ton. The setting is 1920s anyway, and I forced my friends to play and make lackadaisy OCs (it was my birthday damn it 😂). These two characters rotted a crater in my brain for 2 weeks straight and I still like em a ton. Sister Marguerite was mine and Father Elijah was initially my partner's but I have since stolen him haha.

Sister Marguerite, formerly Adelaide Whitaker. Wheeww... so much to say here but I'll condense it. Originally from a wealthy East Coast family, she was forcefully sent to a "wellness and manners" sort of school for "esteemed ladies" that was really just a ruse to hide her pregnancy. It wasn't a Magdalene asylum/laundry, though. She lost the child, but a handful of nuns showed her such kindness (and she'd had religious-fixated OCD for years that her family actively made worse anyway) that she converted to Catholicism and began the process of becoming a nun once she was old enough. She's happy with her current life, enough that her OCD has lessened somewhat, but ofc there are still bad days. She often fixates on physical purity, baptism and "healing water"; most of her sisters chalk her "peculiarities" up to her extreme devotion and are willing to overlook her bad, spiraling days bc shes v dear to them. She's a good-hearted woman, quiet, and doesn't scare easily. Puts others before herself again and again.

As a cat, she's white with unsettling sectorial heterochromia, big slender ears, and an odd face. Lackadaisy cats are generally pretty cute but she's meant to be more "homely". Her eyes are more unnerving than striking. This is the photo that was the first inspiration for her, though this kitty is very cute, haha. If she were human I think she'd have bright eyes and a very plain face. I've drawn her but my art is pretty oof! I need to keep practicing bc her face and headshape in particular are kinda different.

Actually considered reworking her backstory to be one of Jack's many siblings; he did have a sister who ran off, but thats kinda irrelevant in UTDM rn. If anything itd be mentioned in an epilogue.

Father Elijah - A handsome man from a good Midwestern family. They were disappointed when Elijah joined the church, feeling like he was wasting his potential. He's always felt close to God and wanted to help others, but he's also a deeply scholarly person and loves theology, even if some things he studies would be considered heretical. This doesn't necessarily mean he's open minded, especially to those he considers "irredeemable", but he's always polite, protective of his flock and usually a pretty affable guy.

Elijah certainly has some kind of mental stuff rolling around in his noggin; I don't want to call it disorder or illness, especially since he doesn't really have a name for it at the time period (like Marguerite with her OCD). In the tabletop, they came to Arkham together as allies and quickly became rather ... obsessed with each other. He's very fixated with Marguerite, believing her to be a pinnacle of what a godly person should be, and later believing she can actually speak to angels (or is one??). He wants so much of her attention, to hear her opinions and interpretations of faith. To say he puts her on a pedestal is an understatement. Calling it "romantic" interest isnt the whole picture, and too simple for... whatever the hell he's got going on. Marguerite admires him deeply but in a more "inspired" way. Platonic is also too simple for what she's feeling, but her attachment certainly isn't as deep as his.

As a cat he's an orange tabby with pretty blue eyes. Meant to be a really tall good looking dude, a contrast to Sister Margy. Maaany women in the church have admired him but he's never considered or indulged in feelings like that until Marguerite; he doesn't even consider his appearance much. Just tries to keep tidy. I also terribly drew him real quick for the tabletop. I think his ears should have kind of a cute shape and he's got extra fur around his face :3 Still not sure on what sort of tail he'd have, though.

Shoutout to tabletop!Father Elijah who dual wielded a pistol and giant crucifix on the regular, constantly threw himself into danger to save Margie and slowly became twisted by the dark powers he was trying so hard to stop 👍🏽 One of my favorite scenes was both of them jumping into a portal together, then getting separated bc we rolled poorly and they both got HP/Sanity down to 0. Elijah woke up in the hospital in extreme pain, left without fully restoring HP and ran all the way back to the church to find Marguerite. They held each other at the altar for a while and she gave him her rosary bc he lost his crucifix in the void. and they promised to never leave each other again and stayed attached at the hip in spite of the usual eldritch horrors. normal arkham horror things. I'd love to make Arkham LCG cards for them; theyve already got custom cards for the 2nd edition board game (but now my other fixations and nerdness is showing so ill stop here).

(shoutout to that poor eldritch-corrupted NPC who sister marguerite believed needed a baptism to restore him, so father elijah held the dude down while he almost drowned and margeurte prayed over him and one party member witnessed all this and told the others so EVERYONE avoided "those catholic freaks" for the whole session sdkdskfs)

#most of my lackadaisy OCs went to UTDM in some way soooo yeah lol #its my baby what can i say #i also made canon Lackadaisy investigators for Arkham Horror 2nd #id LOVE to make investigators for the card game bc its so cool but alas i dont get to play much #so im not confident in investigator balance and abilities and such #god this is so niche even for this blog lol #anyway weird priest and nun my absolute beloveds #libra says #need a tag for when i talk really dumb shit #anons !!

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aquadestinyswriting · 1 year ago

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When Forever Comes Songfic

Summary: You know what? Since I've been giving some thought to the way the early parts of the Selene/Edwin relationship is going to unfold, I might as well post the songfic I did for this song on my playlist for The Wizard's Tale. I haven't written a songfic for nearly 14 years, so this doesn't live up to my usual standards. However, I am way past caring now. Green text is for the parts Edwin is "singing", purple is Selene. I've also modified the lyrics a little to make the song for this fic make sense.

Words: 1,189

Warnings: some spoilers for To Heal a Broken Soul and Confessions of a Troubled Heart. There's nothing graphic in here, just fluff and a little angst.

tags: @druidx, @sparrow-orion-writes, @warriorbookworm, @mariahwritesstuff, @writeblrsupport, @ashirisu, @thesorcerersapprentice, @blind-the-winds, @philosophika, @the-down-upside-finch

The flowers gold Will softly sway To reunite the lost And lead us on our way

Edwin frowned as he tried to figure out what on Titan Selene meant by Daffodil Field, at least until Chrackle started squawking ‘Yastie’ at him over and over. Thanking the bird, the cleric cast his Scry and waited for his old friend to pick up on the other end.

The glow of soul Will light my face The river's current Flows inside each act of grace

The light of the Cure spell lit up the cleric’s face as he cast. He smiled as the gash on the little boy’s leg healed over. Selene waited in the doorway until he was done, the young boy hugging the new Abouna gratefully before dashing off with a happy wave.

Walk the garden breathe the scent of life Take this moment just to feel Comfort in my tiny paradise A place for lonely hearts to heal

Edwin had just finished tending to the back half of the Garden of Galana and was walking around to the front to work on the rosebushes by the front doors, when he noticed a shock of auburn hair out of the corner of his eye. Startled, the cleric looked over to the oak tree in the corner only to find the Grand Magus sat underneath it, her nose stuck in a book of some kind and totally oblivious to the world around her.

And when forever comes to be Will you remain inside? A little light of empathy To keep us unified Let me inside

“I know you’ve never been one to talk about personal matters with other people, Sel.” he said, “But this is getting completely out of hand.” The wizard shook her head,

“I can’t… not right now anyway.” she replied, her voice tight, “Look, just drop it. Please.” Edwin noticed the tension in his old friend and relented. Heaving a sigh he rubbed at his forehead,

“Alright, fine.” he agreed with a grumble, “But you need to talk to me sooner rather than later. You can’t keep carrying the weight of… whatever this is by yourself.”

The warmest smile A waiting hand A friend to free my heart And help me understand

Selene glared up at the laughing man above her. Edwin shook his head, a warm smile on his face as he extended his hand and helped the wizard up,

“Sorry, but...your face.” he giggled. Selene’s glare lifted as she too started laughing as she stood,

“Yeah, well don’t expect me to save your sorry behind if you end up in the same situation, mister cleric.” she retorted.

Through life and loss Through thick and thin You help all others Face the pain they hold within

“How do you even do it?” Edwin looked up, a confused frown on his face as he looked up at Selene,

“Do what?” he asked. Selene gestured to the door where the grieving family had left a little earlier. Edwin shrugged,

“To be honest, I never really thought about it.” he admitted, “It’s just something I’ve always done.”

Eyes of greed are ever watching me Lonely rooms and broken time Plots and plans to pluck the petals free To drain them of their golden shine

~I can’t get him involved in this Chrackle. It’s bad enough Schreiber has it in for me, I don’t want him getting rid of the only other one of us left!~

~You honestly think Schreiber doesn’t know he was with you guys? His statue is in the plaza outside along with yours.~

~That’s not the point. Edwin isn’t on the Council so Reginald has no real reason to feel threatened by him.~

~You really think that once he gets word that the new Abouna is another Hero of Toreguard that he’s really just going to leave the man alone just because he’s not on the Council? Schreiber wants you all gone, or did you forget that little detail?~

And when forever comes to be I will remain inside A little light of empathy To keep us unified I’ll Keep you outside

“What happened?” he asked, keeping his voice low and body language as relaxed as he could manage. For several long moments there was no reply, or even any indication that the woman had heard him. Eventually, however, the wizard shifted a little, and buried her head in the crook of her arms,

“I don’t want to talk about it.” she muttered, her voice muffled.

When I learn of the loss that defines me Can I hold to the promise that binds me And carry on into tomorrow's sorrow

“No, damn you! You can’t do this to me, not now!” he cried, falling to his knees and burying his face into the bedding as Selene’s body finally relaxed, rattled out a sigh and stilled. Edwin squeezed the rapidly cooling hand he still held tightly, ignoring the sharp pain in his palms, “I love you.”

When I'm facing the ghosts of my destiny Will I turn or remain in the memory And choose to stray or choose to follow

“Alright then, let me rephrase.” she said, “You said that I was still needed but that heading back or not was my choice. What then, is the point if either one of us ends up dead for good shortly after?” she asked. Greg looked up at her through his highlighted fringe with a soft smile,

“Then you make the most of the time you have.” he replied easily.

And when forever comes to be Will you remain inside A little light of empathy To keep us unified

Edwin frowned, worried, as the pink tinge in Selene’s face darkened somewhat and spread to her ears,

“Selene are you..?” he was quickly cut off by Selene waving her free hand,

“Nono, I’m fine.” she assured him, “It’s just… she trailed off, flailing a little as she tried to find the right words, “Cur ita velim Durus.” she hissed in Draconic. Edwin’s frown deepened, having no clue what it was the Wizard in front of him had just said. He took both of Selene’s hands in his own,

“Ok, breathe. What’s the matter?”

I’ll let you inside

“I heard you, you know.” she said quietly. Edwin’s head snapped back round, his heart skipping wildly in disbelief.

“You… wha..?” he stammered. Selene squeezed his shoulder to stop him from babbling, took a shaky breath and continued, “That’s why I came back. I didn’t want to leave this world before I got a chance to tell you that… I love you too.” she finally admitted…

#aquadestinyswriting #titan fighting fantasy #the wizard's tale #selene frigidwake #edwin goodwin #edwin/selene #songfic

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kisuminight · 8 months ago

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So, to get into how c!Dream can both be c!Sapnap's childhood friend and c!George's Blade for 3 years. Or, a timeline of what is going on with Blade!Dream.

At the very beginning, Dream was made from a fragment of a shattered Aegis. Dream is a powerful Blade; it is hard for most people to Awaken him because most people don't have the aether tolerance for it.

The famous duel between Technoblade and Dream does not happen during the events of the server. We are re-locating this duel to take place about 50 years before the DSMP server, and roughly 2 lives previous. Dream and Technoblade faced off as powerful warriors; the majority of the audience did not know they were Blades. Dream had the same general theme of green with a smiling mask, but the overall look was different.

Most of this duel was a learning experience for Dream. Even though the current Dream does not actively remember participating in this duel, he could re-enact it step-by-step as a paired exercise based on Procedural Memory.

Dream's next life after the duel was spent with the granddaughter of his previous Driver. They were together as a Blade-Driver pair for nearly 30 years. During this period, Dream met Sapnap. Sapnap doesn't really remember Dream very well, just that Dream was older than him and they had a lot of fun together for 6mo - 1yr before Dream and his Driver moved on. Sapnap vaguely remembers Dream being with an older woman, and pre-Blade reveal at Staged Finale, thinks that this woman was Dream's mom.

At 4 years pre-DSMP, Dream is killed. It is an accident caused by the death and respawn of his Driver. Dream's Driver is able to recover his core crystal, but is devastated by the loss. Mostly I've talked about poor Blade-Driver relationships, or relationships gone wrong, but that is uncommon and more a symptom of Dream's particular fears. In this bond, Dream's Driver loved him like family and was distressed about the idea of reAwakening a version of Dream that wouldn't be the one she lost. She chooses not to reAwaken Dream herself, and instead looks for someone else to be his Driver in his new life.

Dream's new Driver is George. This is roughly 3 years pre-DSMP. Along with a memory journal that Dream's previous life kept, George is also given Dream's mask. As Dream travels with George, they eventually meet up with Sapnap.

The problem here comes from poor communication, which will eventually fracture the relationship later. Sapnap has strong, emotion-based memories of his time with Dream's previous life. Dream has a written record of things that his previous life thought was important, but that is limited. Not every memory Sapnap treasures was entered into the journal. And the journal can only give facts about the events that happened; it does not give Dream any emotional data, and the memories are kind of flat.

This creates a flaw in the foundation of their current friendship, which the DSMP events exacerbate. It does not get fixed because this is the DSMP and everyone is allergic to actually having meaningful communication about their relationships until everything explodes.

DSMP start-to-Staged Finale takes about 1 year. By the time Dream ends up breaking the Resonance with George, they have spent about 4 years in Resonance. Post-Staged Finale, Dream is usually in Resonance with Punz. Sometimes, if they know EW!Ranboo will be Awake for a long period of time, EW!Ranboo will Drive Dream. This period of Resonance is more like several shorter Resonances as Dream and Punz test their Memory Patch as well as general Resurrection arte/Revival rituals.

Fun facts:

While c!Wilbur knows that Techno is a Blade, the fact that Techno's opponent in the duel was also a Blade did not come up. Even though Dream's outfit has shifted with his new Drivers, the similarities between the current outfit and the old outfit make Wilbur paranoid. Add to the fact that you get hybrids with extended lifespans and other traits, and it can cause a lot of confusion. Some part of Wilbur is absolutely treating Dream as the age he is imagining him as (60+ years) rather than the age his appearance suggests (21-ish, and younger depending on how he dresses).

Despite only being Awake for 3 years, Dream does have the intelligence matching his apparent age. While he has knowledge of emotions and how they affect people, his actual emotional experience is low because he is recently Awakened (recent meaning any Blade that has been Awake less than 5 years).

Techno and Phil absolutely pegged Dream as the Blade Techno fought in the duel, but they're a little clueless as to who Dream's current Driver is. None of them get a chance to sit down and talk about Blade things together until c!Ranboo shows up with Dream's core crystal sometime post-Staged Finale.

Everyone should be very glad that this version of Dream is a healing Blade. If he was like the Aegis in XC2, then he'd basically have an orbital strike canon/laser on call. So, basically the Divine Judgment arte from Aselia. Literally no one who does not already know Dream is a healing Blade (George, Punz, Techno, and Phil) guess that is his alignment during the conspiracy theories about Dream that pop up post-Staged Finale.

Dream does lose his mask during the Staged Finale. Sapnap ends up keeping it.

I know the hoodie is iconic, but I'm tempted to say that Blades are Awakened with a default outfit. Dream's default outfit is full-ruffles type of JRPG healer outfit each time, and Dream has to change back into the hoodie. Since Blades disappear with the clothes they had on when they revert to core crystal, the reAwakening process is essentially eating Dream's favorite hoodies and not giving them back :(. Not 100% on doing this idea with this AU, but DSMP has a strong humorous streak even when dealing with serious subjects. If I did go through with it, I imagine that Dream's default outfit would look something like Yulia Jue's concept art from Tales of the Abyss and it annoys him to no end.

#dsmp #dsmp au #c!dream #DSMP Blade System AU #general notes about the timeline and some fun facts

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averyavary · 1 year ago

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Consider the following.

Heavy Trigger Warning: Sexual Abuse, Rape. You have been warned.

I'm going to keep things here rather short, and simple as I've gone to some drastic measures already to deal with this privately, but I might as well let others know what I've been dealing with, considering your eyes are still on me, I know it.

I've been having to deal with a... specific person in my life as of the past near decade or so. I did not really want to resort to the final actions I've had gone about doing but; relentless people require extreme actions, huh?

Let me introduce you to "Jude" is who I'll call them, as they refer to themselves that way. I met Jude in my life when I was 13-14 through my sister as a family friend at the time. They were in their mid 20's or so, I can't fully recall. The there was a 10 or so year difference, just for reference.

During some time between the summer of 2014 or so, I was left alone with them at times for extended periods of time. I recall remember waking up at times hurting from by back, and near my legs and such. I accordingly told my sister and aunt about these things (I was living with them at the time) and I was pulled out of my classes one day to sit down and discuss what might've happened between Jude and I. I was rightfully confused as I didn't know what or why was happening. I remember I broke down into tears about them asking me if I "Liked" Jude in the manner of a relationship, which I promptly denied. I only saw Jude like an older brother I never had at the time.

Come to find out, Jude was something akin to liking me relationship wise, which if you cant put 2 and 2 together, kind of royally fucked up! I now know looking back, I was molested and was likely drugged to be used for sex most likely. I obviously can't remember everything as its still hazy for that summer trying to block it out over the past few years, but with what happened to me back then, my family picked up on it quickly and shut Jude out of my life.

He however, hasn't let the thought of me go.

I think starting in about 2018 or so going forward, Jude would try to contact me by any means necessary. I remember him contacting my aunt trying to reach me, which I promptly denied as I found that to be a bit more than creepy. I know I have long lost text messages of them trying to reach out, to see "how" I'm doing, and just overall try to find out what I'm up to.

What finally made me crack was a lengthy email that I received from Jude back in May, mere days before what would inevitably tank my career. I got one of the most disturbing emails from them, them basically wanting to start over, and try to be friends/and a possible relationship.

I promptly denied anything regarding the email, told Jude to leave me alone, and told them good-bye.

Their response? Calling me a rapist, and a "great" role model.

I cannot describe to you how much this infuriated me, to be called something that the said abuser did to ME of all things. I've done all that I could at that point to get away from him and him trying to crawl back into my life as if I would be open and accepting? No sir, not one bit.

I think the most fucked up thing he did was try to tell my dad of all people that I raped him, and my dad called me up confused to high hell on what he meant. I explained everything to my dad, shown him the emails, and he saw the issues at hand with what Jude was doing.

I've already filed some things with local police in my area, and as such I've talked to my therapist long term about these things. I'm writing this also as a way to get this off my chest, amongst a personal message to Jude.

Leave me, and my family alone Jude. I don't appreciate you trying to be buddy buddy with me and as such try to slander me into something when you're the insanely fucked individual I've dealt with for nearly a decade. Let me go and you can go about on your own merry way.

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kath-artic · 4 months ago

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tyler stuff

idk. being the baby of the family made me become obsessed with the idea that when I got older i'd finally have the language to express everything I was feeling, to really truly connect with the people around me. I understood all of the conversations happening around me, I just wasn't old enough to have the lived experience to contribute anything meaningful. one day I would. one day I would have the perfect words. the thing I failed to account for was that time was moving for everyone else too. at that age, you don't fully appreciate the looming threat of death. you know what it is, but you don't really get that it's not just there for the old and the famous. maybe that's just me--my mom had kept me pretty sheltered growing up with regard to stuff like that. she was so afraid of me being taken away after the incident at the hospital. I didn't even know I was born with thc in my system until a few years ago and even then I had to wring the information out of extended family members and eavesdrop on conversations. I don't even think my mom knows that I know. stuff like that is why our relationship was always so strained--i felt like I wasn't allowed to go to anyone for help and I didn't understand why. That's beside the point though, the point is that I was 12 meeting someone who would quickly become my world. I admired him in every way and I couldn't wait until I was old enough to express that to him. until I was old enough to have those perfect words. I was 15 when my brother came running down the stairs, phone in hand, and just said that Tyler was gone. he'd overdosed on heroin and there was no brain activity. all at once I was confronted with the fact that i'd never be able to tell him those perfect words and that those words were right in front of me the whole time. I love you. his parents were deadbeats who never gave a fuck about him, but he was my brother. he was my brother and I never told him that. it was only a few months later that I got into my first relationship. I was spilling over the sides with "I love you"s for a man who did nothing but assault and belittle me because there was nowhere else for them to go. then my last real relationship--he was so afraid of loving me. so afraid of the expectation, that I might come to want him forever and that he wouldn't be able to live up to that. he was afraid that I'd want more of him than he could give, afraid of hurting me, afraid afraid afraid. he was the first person I ever had consensual sex with and I remember he almost didn't go through with it because he was afraid i'd feel used if we broke up in the future. we never made any future plans because he was afraid of committing to being together for any longer than the present moment. when we said I love you for the first time he told me he didn't think we should ever say it again because he was afraid that it would become an expectation and that i'd feel unloved if he ever forgot to say it. he was wonderful to me in so many ways, but I can't keep pretending that this didn't hurt me. when we broke up I remember pausing from crying to laugh and say "well you cant stop me from saying I love you now." I said it until it lost meaning, until my phone was nearly dead and he told me I should go inside and be near my friends.

i think i've always really liked the way David Lynch portrays evil as an extant thing partially because its how I feel about love. the love I felt for Tyler and for my exes still sits on the edge of my bed every night. the love I feel for the people I haven't even met yet is there too. the momentary love I feel in interactions with strangers is there too. it all wads up into this big ball of energy that I drag around everywhere I go like some kind of sisyphean boulder. I cant wait to see the next face it'll put on, but until then i'll continue sitting in bed whispering my "I love you"s to no one in particular

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bevswashere · 6 months ago

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Koi No Yokan

Chapter 12: Back to Life

January 2006 Two weeks later.

Established as the fastest Jujutsu sorcerer alive.

One of the only two existing special grades.

The record holder for the most consecutive black flashes.

The youngest in history to achieve a domain expansion.

I'm the strongest.

The moment I'd endlessly worked for, dreamed of, had finally arrived. And it feels nothing like I'd imagined. Isolating, magnifying my failure thousandfold.

I don't remember coming back to campus. I can only vaguely recall Mariko bathing me, scrubbing my skin raw until the blood and ash melted off. Haibara fed me dinner—or was it Nanami? Four, maybe five, hours for my promotion to come in? Thirty-six to be labeled "inactive." I suppose that's unavoidable when you refuse to get out of bed.

Suguru seems to be the only one brave enough to stop by. He'd enter without permission, talking even if I hid beneath the covers or faced the wall. On and on about the ongoing investigation, engravings he'd noticed on the curses' wrists, indicating someone summoned them, how most remains have been accounted for, including my father's arm and watch. How, with the exception of Tomiji, the incident was declared to have "no survivors."

The butcher, his wife, and two kids. Three first grade sorcerers. A school filled with seventy-six children and teachers. A hospital including all of its employees and patients. Twenty people in the finishing school. Nearly two-hundred in the marketplace. Another sixty in the farmlands. People in parks, theaters, offices, training zones, their own homes. Both my grandparents. Uematsu Hama, her daughter Sai. Sai's husband and daughter. My cousin Kumiko. All my extended family. All of their extended family. Uematsu Momoko.

All confirmed dead.

Then, he won't stop talking about Tomiji. How he's not doing well, having night terrors and trouble keeping his meals down. How he needs his sister.

I know he needs me. I know I need to get out of this bed and live up to my strength. For him, for my friends. But my limbs are glued to this mattress, and the blanket weighs down on me like a thousand stones.

I am the strongest, but I'm too broken to be strong.

One week passes. Then another. By then I've lost track of the day, or the last time I'd gotten up. I don't sleep, though. Each time I close my eyes I'm haunted by the thought of everyone mercilessly slaughtered. By the image of Hama's body. By the hateful last conversation I shared with my father. By the feeling of Momoko's body growing cold in my hands.

It's evening I think, and the sun is beginning to set. My body aches, my throat is burning dry. I start to cry. The center of my chest burns as I sob heavily. I pray that my bed will swallow me whole, that I can stop existing for just one moment.

"I'm coming in."

I bury my nose into the tear-stained sheets and try to stop, but a small whimper escapes me now and again.

Satoru is standing over my bed. "Why are you hiding your face?"

I try speaking for the first time in weeks, "I'm supposed to be the strongest." Not without difficulty. Each word threatens to shatter the little composure I have. "You shouldn't see me like this."

He lowers himself, locking eyes with the ones I'm desperate to hide. "Good thing I'm the strongest, Kaede-chan."

We both know that isn't true, but I let him make the claim. My eyes squeeze shut, and more warm tears begin to drip out. I have to turn to my other side because there are no hopes of stopping them. So I cry silently, feeling the bed dip as Satoru sits behind me.

"Sorry I didn't come here sooner. I didn't really know what to say after Mo..." He's unable to finish her name, and I'm not sure if it's for my sake or his own. "Anyway, I'm sorry."

I don't need an apology.

"When's the last time you've eaten?"

"I don't know."

"You've been in bed, though. Have you gotten a lot of sleep?"

"Not really."

"Kaede-chan," Satoru exhales largely. "Doing all of this isn't going to bring anyone back."

My hands ball the sheets within my fists. Another lump forms in my throat. "I know that."

"You'll have to get up eventually."

"I know." I'm crying again, frustrated with how useless I've become. I want to apologize, but there's no time between my sniveling.

"I'll leave you to it then."

The bed rises when Satoru gets up. He's nearly out the door when I turn over, "Wait."

"What is it?"

"Can you stay with me?" I feel truly pathetic. "Only for a little."

His tone is bright, and he marches back into my room. "Scoot over."

The sun has fully set, and Satoru removes his glasses and shoes before getting under the covers.

We stay like this for a moment, drowning in silence with a safe distance between us. Any movement or words I attempt threaten to result in sobs. I can't continue to bear my weakness like this.

"I missed you," he says. Light from the window paints his face, paling it with moonlight and reflecting into his radiant eyes. "Not seeing you for two weeks was hard."

He repeats himself, "I miss you."

No matter how much I want to, I am unable to return the sentiment. Instead I draw towards him like a magnet. The cold tip of my nose buries into the warmth of his neck. When our chests touch, his arm envelops me, finding my back.

I sigh in relief. Gojo Satoru is the perfect temperature and I never want to let go.

"Sleep," he says. "I'm getting you out of this bed tomorrow."

Surprisingly, my eyes drift open to the early morning light. The first night I'd slept through in weeks.

"You're good at making yourself comfortable." Satoru is beneath me, still incredibly warm. His arms feel like a safety net around me. "I think you even drooled."

I swipe at the corner of my mouth, finding that it had been dripping into his shirt. "Sorry."

"It's fine. Drool all you want."

I adjust myself against him, letting my nose find the perfect crook of his neck. "I'm horrible."

"Why's that?"

"I've never been so comfortable before."

I feel him laugh a little beneath me. "Since when is that a bad thing?"

"All of them are gone." I stop myself from crying. "I don't deserve to be this comfortable."

"It wasn't your fault."

"If I had just stayed—"

"You'd be dead with everyone else."

"You don't know that."

"I'm sure of it." The rough pads of his fingertips begin to trace my back. "You've become the strongest by circumstance. Don't waste your time thinking otherwise."

I know his touch aims to relax, but it's difficult. My mind keeps wandering through these alternate routes, ones where Momoko and so many others are alive at the end. Instead, I am here and they are all gone. And there is absolutely nothing I can do about it.

"Sleep some more," Satoru says. "I'll wake you up in time for lunch."

Hours later, he does just that. I roll off of him, hopelessly cradling myself in the cold sheets. "Go without me."

"Kaede-chan," he groans. "You were supposed to get up."

A few seconds away from him, and my skin already felt like ice. "I'm not hungry."

"You've been saying that for weeks. Even sad people need food."

"Not me."

"Kaede-chan!" He howls like a child, forcing his arm beneath mine, pulling my back into his body. Perfectly warm. His chin digs into my neck. "Fine! If you won't eat, then I'm not eating."

"Don't be an idiot."

He even hooks a leg around mine. "I'll stay here as long as you do. If you want to rot away in this bed, then I will too."

Satoru certainly can do anything he sets his mind to. I consider that, suddenly feeling sorry that he'd be stuck here as long as I would. Then I remember he also won't do anything he doesn't truly want to. Most likely he'll give up once he's bored. "Fine with me."

"But I'm hungry!"

"Go eat."

"I can't unless you come with me."

"I'm tired, Satoru."

"Then we have lunch and come back here, then you can sleep all you want!"

I take a long, heavy breath, before somehow sitting up. The movement makes my bones ache, but Satoru grabs me by the arms. He pulls me out of the room and into the dining hall before I can change my mind.

It's hardly a grand entrance with my unbrushed hair and the same clothes from two weeks ago. Nevertheless, Satoru throws his arms up the moment the door slides open. "Look who's alive!"

The entire group winces at his poor word choice, staring at me like a ticking time bomb, ready to weep or kill someone at any given moment. Honestly, their stares bother me more than Satoru's inability to read the room.

Satoru sits me down. I notice Tomiji sat at the end of the table, but am too ashamed to meet his eye.

"It's good to see you on your feet, Kaede-chan," Haibara smiles, helping Mariko fix a serving of food for me.

Next to him, she proudly displays his gift around her neck. "After this, I'll take you to the showers again. We can wash your hair, brush it out. Haibara, why don't you wash her sheets while we're gone."

He agrees without complaint, placing the filled bowl in front of me. The savory scent wafts up into my nose, and I nearly gag.

"Sound like a plan, Kaede?" Mariko asks.

Speaking or looking at them is too hard. I make peace with not answering when Satoru's hand finds mine, unbeknownst to the rest of the table.

"That's fine," I force out. "Thank you."

Our hands remain interlaced through the entire meal. I fake an appetite, forcing each bite down with resistance. Then like they said, Mariko takes me back to the showers while Haibara takes care of laundry.

"Are you together now?" Mariko combs through my wet hair. Initially she appears shocked, hearing me speak for the first time since lunch. "You and Haibara..."

Her smile says it all. "It happened on my birthday."

"In my room," I add.

Her cheeks begin to flush.

"I'm happy for you."

She meets my eye in the mirror. "That means a lot."

Satoru is waiting for me when I get back, sitting above freshly laundered sheets. "Look at you all cleaned up!"

Hardly. I saw myself for the first time when Mariko brought me to the showers. My once strong figure turned gaunt, deep darkness puffing beneath my eyes. I've become a shell of myself. One that Mariko dressed in loungewear, probably because she assumed I'd trap myself in bed again.

Seeing Satoru clearly, he seemed thinner too. His shoulders draped down in a tired manner. "Are you okay?"

"Me? Of course I am."

I don't believe him, but I accept him lying for the both of us.

The ends of my hair are damp, seeping into my shirt, running a chill through me that I fight by falling into his arms. "Stay with me again."

His breath reverberates against my body. "What do you think I'm here for?"

#geto suguru #gojo satoru #gojo x oc #jujutsu kaisen #kento nanami #otsuka mariko #shoko ieiri #uematsu kaede #yu haibara #koi no yokan

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