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salemrph · 25 days ago

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The taste of apple and pomegranate

Ch. 5: Gods shouldn't drink wine

Nav: Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 (coming soon) // AO3

Summary: You just wanted to survive university, not fall for either of them—let alone both. Two handsome idiots who somehow made your apartment their second home. You, Sylus, and Caleb were supposed to be just friends. So why does everything feel like their is more going on?

Character: Sylus x f!reader x Caleb // Tara, Rafayel // AU - College, Student

Genre: romantic, fluff, intimacy, sexual content, humor, friends to lovers, poliamore, slow burn

Word count: 3.5k | Reading Time: 14 min | AO3

Tag list: @thechaoticarchivist @peacedreamer14 @blessdunrest @strwberriiblnde @plzdonutpercieveme @sylusqt @sakuraneko-sakupanda-chan @peacedreamer14 @escapeis @plzdonutpercieveme @blorbohunter @yuurisfavblog

Ch. 5: Gods shouldn't drink wine

Before you can disappear behind the curtain, Rafayel approaches, holding something delicately between his paint-stained fingers—a golden crown made of olive leaves. He leans in and whispers something low against your ear. Whatever it is, it makes you smile. It might be a good idea, you think.

“Ah, Sylus,” Rafayel calls out casually, “pass her your jacket.” Without hesitation, Sylus shrugs it off and hands it to you. “Caleb, was it?” Rafayel chirped, turning next. “Give me your T-shirt.”

Caleb blinks. “Why?” His gaze flits between Rafayel and you, a light perceptible tension building in his shoulders.

“Just do it,” you say, giving him a wink over your shoulder. Caleb's jaw tightens, and a shadow of irritation crosses his face. A low huf escapes him before he peels off his t-shirt anyway and hands it to you. It's warm… His muscles flex as he moves, the studio lighting catching along his chest and shoulders.

Rafayel lets out an appreciative whistle. “That’s a Greek statue. Poseidon, maybe? No—Apollo…” His eyes practically sparkled as he checked Caleb out.

Caleb just mumbled. "Don't get so excited, man." He shifted, his bare chest looking a little tighter, and you almost thought you saw his eyes flick to you for a second before they zipped back to Rafayel.

Rafayel waggles his brows, clearly about to make some outrageous proposition, but before he can speak, Sylus cuts in, deadpan. “Don’t even think about it.”

The artist snorts, not at all deterred. “Fine, fine…” He let out this big, dramatic sigh, but his eyes, sharp and knowing, caught yours. You bite your lip to hide the laugh bubbling up. Then, crown in hand, Sylus’s jacket over your shoulders, and Caleb’s t-shirt in your grip, you disappear behind the curtain.

Outside the curtain, you hear Sylus murmur to Caleb, “If he touches her, I’ll break his fingers.”

Caleb responds, voice casual but firm, “We’ll take turns.”

Rafayel tries to stay calm, unconsciously clasping his hands behind his back. He’d like to keep these blessed fingers intact a little longer.

Barefoot, dressed in nothing but Caleb’s soft, worn-in T-shirt and Sylus’s sleek leather jacket, you stepped to the platform. Caleb and Sylus were already there, one on either side. Without a word, each extended a hand to help you up. You took them, your fingers brushing theirs briefly, and the sensation left a small flutter in your chest. The coolness of the wood and fabrics kissed your skin, and for a moment, the room fell into a charged silence.

Rafayel observed the scene like a director, lips pursed, sketchbook clutched loosely in one hand. Once you were settled, he moved a chair and easel closer, flipping open a blank page. His gaze shifted to you, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Now, cutie,” he said, as if this were all perfectly mundane, “you know what to do.”

You took a deep breath and folded into yourself slowly, curling into a half-knot. Hugging your stomach like you were in pain, one leg stretched outward, the other bent tightly beneath you. The oversized shirt draped low over your thighs, modest enough to hide your underwear, but not enough to stop the heat creeping up your cheeks. Caleb almost looked away, Sylus took a discreet long inhale. The jacket’s weight pressed into you from above, grounding, protecting.

Rafayel made a noise; somewhere between a hum and a huff; and strode over. He circled you slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly, almost as if he was seeing right through the fabric, analyzing every curve and line.

“I’m going to move you a bit,” he warned, already reaching. “Take off the jacket… yes, good. We’ll place it here…”

You adjusted, moving the leather between your legs and pulling it against your chest as a kind of makeshift shield. You were sure you looked like a half-dressed painting from a fever dream.

“No, no,” Rafayel muttered, stepping back and tilting his head. “It could be better if you sit like this…”

Several more adjustments followed. He poked and prodded, making you shift until you were perched at the platform’s edge—one arm looped around a raised knee, the other resting lightly in your lap. Shirt slipping just slightly off one shoulder. Your hair a bit tousled.

“Put on your most lascivious face. It shouldn’t be difficult with them here.” he whispered in your ear before stepping back.

You flushed hard, the heat shooting straight up your spine. Your gaze flicked to Caleb and Sylus—both seated now, watching, silent and unreadable. Something about their stillness made your stomach flip, a strange mix of nerves and… But you did as Rafayel said. Lowered your lashes. Let your lips part slightly. Let your mind wander to them, and how close they’d been lately. And what you wanted… no, needed from both of them.

“Perfect,” Rafayel breathed, his pencil already flying across the page.

Rafayel’s voice flowed easily through the studio, lighty, threading between the crisp sound of pencil against paper. He didn’t once look at Sylus or Caleb, completely absorbed in his work.

“I have to say,” he mused, eyes focused on you with theatrical admiration, “you were dancing like a fair at the party the other night. Fluid, unbothered, entirely in your own world… It was beautiful.”

You offered a small, bashful laugh, doing your best not to fidget in the pose.

Rafayel grinned, not even bothering to hide his little game. His eyes move over to Caleb, who seemed to go just a tad stiffer, like maybe he'd swallowed something sharp, but it was so quick you'd probably miss it if you weren't looking. Then Rafayel's gaze flicked to Sylus, whose already chiseled jaw seemed to just, well, sharpen up even more. Sylus still looked totally chill on the outside, a perfect 'I don't care' statue, but Rafayel's smirk got a tiny bit bigger.

“And now here you are, curling on my platform like a Botticelli muse.” His voice softened, turning warm and teasing. “Gorgeous. Keep that expression—yes, that one. Just like that.” Then, without missing a beat, he tilted his head and asked “I wonder who you’re thinking about while making that face…”

You blinked, caught off guard.

“Tell me… do you have a lover?”

Across the room, Caleb's mouth fell open. His eyes practically screaming “I'm going to kill you”. The ease in his posture evaporated. “Do you need to ask her that?”

Rafayel, without looking away from you, gave a breezy shrug. “I’m keeping her distracted, being in that position is hard.” he said airily. “So…”

“I— don’t.” You said softly, your voice a touch shy.

“But there is someone, right?” Rafayel teased gently, lips curling. “Come on, cutie. Raw emotion is easier to capture when it’s tied to truth. Are you ashamed?”

“No, no, just…” you hesitated, your fingers curling slightly into the folds of Sylus’s jacket draped across your lap, as if grounding yourself. You tried to keep your posture steady, chin lifted, but your eyes betrayed you—flickering toward the two men seated just off to the side.

Caleb had gone quiet, his hands clenching loosely in his lap. His knuckles were pale. His heart beating faster, you haven’t really answered the question. Sylus, on the other hand, leaned back slightly in his chair, elegant as ever, one ankle crossing over the opposite knee. Another one with a murderous aura. Rafayel shivered. "Yeah, definitely guard dogs," he thought.

“Mmm,” he hummed, placing his pencil again over the canvas. He tilted his head again, but this time he glanced at Sylus and Caleb. “But...” he thinks with a lopsided smirk, “the way these two look at her…. They’re not entirely sure whether to guard her or devour her.” Rafayel tries not to laugh about its discovery. “Miss bodyguard… this will be my entertainment for a while.”

The artist once again reloads his weapon in the form of words, perhaps with this he can provoke even more.

“Let me give you that advice I promised. If you can’t make up your mind about someone, it’ll always be the first one that comes to mind. So I’ll ask you, cutie—”

His voice dropped a shade lower.

“Who do you want to kiss? Feel his hand on your body? Fall asleep curled up against at night?”

The temperature in the room shifted. Neither Sylus nor Caleb seemed to breathe. You widen your eyes further, pupils darting, and a small, almost embarrassed grimace-slash-smile plays on your face.

Caleb didn’t understand why his chest felt tight. Or why Rafayel’s compliments made his hands curl into fists. Or why he kept noticing the line of your thigh where his shirt rode up just a little too high. You have seen her in bikini before, he told himself. Why am I…? But every time Rafayel tilted his head, smiled like he was unraveling a secret only he was invited to know, the knot in Caleb’s stomach twisted. It wasn’t jealousy. That would be ridiculous. He didn’t get jealous. Right?

Then why did he hate the way Rafayel’s voice dipped when he talked to you? Why did he hate that it made you blush?

And Sylus? He was putting on a brave face, still trying to look totally unbothered, like it was his last bit of armour. But yeah, that armour was starting to crack, especially since he'd been seriously annoyed ever since the café.

The moment Rafayel had shown up, leaning just a little too close to you, something in Sylus had snapped. Now he was watching this… this performance, this display, and his temper was beginning to boil. He didn’t trust people like Rafayel. Too charming and theatrical. And it burned him more than it should—watching you in his jacket, in Caleb’s shirt, curled up like a muse for someone else’s masterpiece. It shouldn’t matter...

The more Rafayel poked at him, treating you like his personal muse, the more Sylus actually felt. And feelings? Those weren't something he was used to letting loose from their cage. Especially not because of some artsy loudmouth. But here he was, pulse drumming hard at his throat, heart practically doing acrobatics in his chest.

He was trying to logic his way out of this, to rationalise it, to just box it up and dismiss it with his usual smirk. Why was Rafayel talking to you like that? And why did it bother him so much that your blush wasn't because of him? He knows, you could, technically... be with anyone. He wasn't jealous, right?

And then, like a weird little whisper creeping right under their skin. Deep buried in the void of his own heart, just below all their denial, the same unsettling thought hit both of them:

Neither had ever really stopped to ask why they were so overprotective. Why they always crush themselves into your space? Why they always chased off every single date without ever… thinking about making a move themselves?

As Rafayel kept showering you with admiration, filling the space with his playful flirtation, and you just looked so good up there in the soft light and their clothes... it striked both of them. A mix of jealousy and straight-up longing. Rafayel glanced at the two guys, he was just gently nudging them right to the edge of a cliff.

After nearly an hour of holding that curled position, your body started to really complain. A dull ache crept into your shoulder, your calf did a little twitch, and your spine was practically begging for mercy. You let out a soft exhale, shifting just slightly, trying not to break the mood or the illusion.

But Rafayel, ever perceptive, caught it in a heartbeat. He set down his pencil, head tilted in concern wrapped in mischief.

“Alright, alright,” he said, standing and walking over to you with graceful ease. “Let’s not torture our muse, shall we?”

You sat up slowly, brushing the hair from your face. “Sorry. I’m just… kind of dying.”

Rafayel waved a dismissive hand, smiling. “No apologies, cutie. You gave me more than enough beauty for today.”

“How was the experience? Do you think you can do it?” You swung your legs off the platform, stretching them out with a groan of relief.

“I think... yeah. Yes.”

“Marvellous” he said, far too brightly. “And… since the gentlemen seem so interested in the platform today… why don’t you come up here and join instead?” Rafayel turned toward them with the most innocent smile he could manage. “You two are already halfway undressed. Clearly invested. Why not pose for me? Unless you’re scared of a little vulnerability?”

Caleb looked caught between choking and laughing, and Sylus’s brow twitched ever so slightly. But neither moved.

Rafayel clapped his hands dramatically. “Oh, come on. Instead of making those orgy faces, you do something better. Besides…” He tilted his head toward you with a sly smile. “The final sketch will be hers to keep. A little… memento.”

You blinked. “For me?”

Rafayel shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s only fair.”

Caleb groaned softly, muttering something about regret and bad decisions.

Rafayel grinned, sensing the power shift. “So? Are we doing this or are you going to let her go home with nothing but a sore back? Look she is already excited.”

You tried to hide your smile, but it was there, pulling at the corner of your lips but… The flicker in your eyes. That quiet, gleaming want. The kind that made you glow a little more and made them, without fail, stop dead in their tracks. Because when you wanted something that badly? They couldn’t say no. Even if it meant getting your favourite cookies from that store. Even if it meant taking you piggyback home because you too tried to walk. Even if it meant posing half-naked for an idiot.

Caleb exhaled sharply, hands on his hips, shooting Sylus a half-defeated look. That got Sylus to his feet with a resigned sigh. “You’re lucky she likes you.” He was already pulling off his watch.

You shook your head with a small smile. You did a little dance inside your head with full-on confetti cannon joy. Still, you knew better. Staying would only lead to trouble. Nosebleeds. Inappropriate daydreams. A complete inability to look either of them in the eye ever again. And honestly? You actually wanted to enjoy the art later.

But then, something tugged at your thoughts. A weird little prickle in the back of your mind. A whisper that didn’t match the moment at all: I should be somewhere else. You glanced down at your phone, eyes going wide.

“Crap. I’m late! The professor will kill, shiiit!” You change quickly, grabbing your bag in a rush. “Rafayel, I’m so sorry, I gotta run—thank you for today. I’ll text you about next time. Guys! Have fun!”

“Take care, cutie. I’ll keep your puppies entertained.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling as you slipped out the door.

Back in the studio, the silence settled.

The artist was very pleased with his miracles today, but he wasn't content with it. Knowing the atmosphere might get tense while he was trying to draw, he thought about his little hiding place. It might be useful to him now. He crossed the studio with a graceful glide and stopped in front of a tall, nondescript shelf.

“Maybe you just need a little courage first,” he said, voice sing-song as he pressed something at the back. A soft click broke the silence, and a hidden compartment popped open. He pulled out a dusty, ancient-looking bottle. It was made of deep red glass with a faded label in cursive script you couldn’t even begin to read. He cradled it like some rare relic, then set it down dramatically beside two tall, empty glasses.

“I call it the artist's elixir,” he said, voice light and airy as he poured the shimmering, slightly viscous liquid. “Loosens the body. Unravels the tension. Opens the soul.”

Caleb squinted at the glass. “That’s wine?”

“Probably,” Rafayel chirped, offering it up like a toast. “Or maybe ambrosia. Depends who you ask. Since you two seem quite a statue, drink this”

Caleb sniffed the glass, then threw it back in one go. Sylus followed without a word. They stood there for a moment, the warmth blooming slowly through their chests, their limbs, their thoughts.

Rafayel picked up his sketchpad again, pulling a chair close. “Now,” he said sweetly, “why don’t you two come stand on the platform? Let’s see how good you are at holding tension.”

He hadn’t even asked them to strip. But there was Caleb, already pulling his pants down in one swift motion, tossing it aside like it was nothing. Sylus followed suit, undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one. He didn’t dare interrupt them now. He would sketch fast. Before they changed their minds. By the time Rafayel blinked, both men stood barefoot, clad only in loose, draped fabric pulled from the studio’s prop shelves. Strategically draped fabric that left little to the imagination.

With an artist's detached intensity, arranged them. "Closer," he'd instruct, adjusting Sylus's arm so it almost brushed Caleb's bare chest. "Hold that. Don't be shy. This is for art."

The late afternoon sun began to stream through the high windows, bathing their near-naked forms in a golden glow. Rafayel sketched, humming softly to himself, occasionally stepping forward to adjust a wrist, a tilt of the chin, the angle of a shoulder.

They were forced into a too-close proximity—shoulders brushing, thighs aligned, their body heat becoming indistinguishable. Every flex of muscle, every subtle shift of weight seemed to bring them closer, like magnets pushed just past resistance.

Rafayel paused mid-sketch, tilting his head like a curious cat. His gaze flicked from Sylus to Caleb and back again. “Ah… interesting,” he murmured, lips curling into a slow, mischievous smile. “You two are trying very hard not to touch.”

Caleb tensed visibly. His face flushed, the red blooming fast across his cheeks, betraying him completely. He shifted just enough to break eye contact with his friend. Sylus, in contrast, sat still as stone, save for the muscle ticking along his jaw. If he was affected, it didn’t show, except for the heat behind his stare, and the way his hand curled slightly tighter over the platform.

Rafayel tapped the side of his pencil against his chin, pretending to think. “You know, having homoerotic interest is perfectly normal. It’s part of the human experience.”

“Shut up.” Sylus said without emotion.

After another 20 minutes, their previous stiffness began to melt, replaced by a peculiar lightheadedness, a heightened awareness of each other. Was it the drink? Ba-dump. Their faces grew warmer, a tell-tale blush creeping up their necks. Rafayel kept posing them, his commentary now less about art but about “vibrational energy,” the “undercurrents of repressed desire.” Every word was bait, tossed with precision.

A wave of heat rolled over Sylus, far more intense than anything the room could justify. His breath caught, shallow. The fabric across his lap suddenly felt like a cage for his insistent throb between his legs.

“Fuck…” The thought came unbidden, clipped and angry. Why am I—? “Wh-at exactly was in that drink, Rafayel?” he asked, his voice tighter than usual.

Rafayel shrugged, completely unconcerned. “Oh, I don't know, just some random bottle someone gave me.”

Sylus stood up so fast the fabric nearly slipped from his lap. He caught it just in time, gripping it like armour. His eyes locked onto Rafayel, who had been smirking until now.

“Don’t mov—”

The words cut through the studio like a blade. In a blink, Sylus crossed the distance and shoved Rafayel to the ground, pinning him down, arm twisted against his back, that made the artist yelp. Rafayel squirmed beneath him.

“Ow Ow Ow Ow Ow. Let go! Let go of me!”

“Answer me.” Sylus’s voice was low and lethal. “Were you planning to drug her?”

Rafayel blinked up at him, eyes wide but not afraid. More… annoyed. “No! What kind of villain do you think I am? It’s just fancy wine! I barely remembered I had it until you two started acting like statues.”

Sylus didn’t loosen his grip.

Rafayel groaned dramatically. “Ugh—if I wanted to seduce someone I’d use simply my charm. Now let go of my wrist, you paranoid bastard.”

Sylus felt his cock harden, stretching uncomfortably against the flimsy fabric. A cold dread, mixed with an undeniable, fierce arousal, shot through him. Fuck. He needed to leave. Now. He would take care of this idiot another day. He glanced at Caleb, whose breathing had grown shallow, his eyes wide and glazed, his skin flushed. He was almost combusting.

Did he drink more than me? Oh fuck…

He didn’t know if it was the drink or the situation, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that if they stayed in this room any longer, something irreversible would happen.

“We need to go!” Sylus stated, his voice clipped, urgency seeping into it. He grabbed Caleb by the arm, pulling him upright.

Release every 1-2 week

Nav: Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch. 4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 (coming soon) // AO3

Back to MASTERLIST

#The taste of apple and pomegranate #caleb x sylus x reader #university au #friends to lovers #they all care but don’t know how to show it #reader is trying her best #soft heartbreak #slow burn with feelings #gentle angst #sylus #love and deepspace #slow burn #caleb x reader #sylus x reader #poly love triangle #no one knows what they're doing but they're in love

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black-arcana · 7 months ago

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ARCH ENEMY Announces Fall 2025 European Tour With AMORPHIS, ELUVEITIE And GATECREEPER

Swedish/Canadian/American extreme metal titans ARCH ENEMY have announced the "European Blood Dynasty 2025 Tour". Support on the trek, which will kick off on October 10 in Stuttgart, Germany and conclude on December 15 in Düsseldorf, Germany, will come from AMORPHIS, ELUVEITIE and GATECREEPER.

Tickets go on sale on Wednesday, November 27 at 10 a.m. CET via www.archenemy.live.

ARCH ENEMY says: "We can't wait to see you again!"

"European Blood Dynasty 2025 Tour" dates:

Oct. 10 - Schleyerhalle, Stuttgart, DE Oct. 11 - Jahrhunderthalle, Frankfurt am Main, DE Oct. 12 - Zenith, Munich, DE Oct. 14 - Barba Negra, Budapest, HU Oct. 15 - Gasometer, Vienna, AT Oct. 17 - Columbiahalle, Berlin, DE Oct. 18 - Sportovni Hala Fortuna, Prague, CZ Oct. 19 - PreZero Arena Gliwice, Gliwice, PL Oct. 21 - The Hall, Zurich, CH Oct. 22 - Alcatraz, Milan, IT Oct. 23 - Radiant Bellevue, Lyon, FR Oct. 25 - Vistalegre, Madrid, ES Oct. 27 - Zenith, Paris, FR Oct. 28 - AFAS Live, Amsterdam, NL Oct. 30 - Civic Hall, Wolverhampton, UK Oct. 31 - O2 Apollo, Manchester, UK Dec. 01 - Eventim Apollo, London, UK Dec. 03 - Rockhal, Esch sur Alzette, LU Dec. 04 - Ancienne Belgique, Brussels, BE Dec. 05 - Haus Auensee, Leipzig, DE Dec. 07 - Partille Arena, Gothenburg, SE Dec. 08 - Annexet, Stockholm, SE Dec. 10 - Ice Hall, Helsinki, FI Dec. 12 - Sentrum Scene, Oslo, NO Dec. 13 - Poolen, Copenhagen, DK Dec. 14 - Swiss Life Hall, Hannover, DE Dec. 15 - Mitsubishi Electric Hall, Düsseldorf, DE

ARCH ENEMY's twelfth studio album, "Blood Dynasty", will arrive on March 28, 2025 via Century Media Records.

ARCH ENEMY's 2024 European co-headline tour, "Rising From The North", with IN FLAMES, wrapped up on November 5 in Helsinki, Finland.

ARCH ENEMY guitarist Michael Amott stated about "Blood Dynasty": "This new album pushes the boundaries of what we've done before — it's everything you've come to expect from this band, and then some! We can't wait for you to hear it and feel the energy we've poured into every track. Welcome to the 'Blood Dynasty'!"

Next to the limited deluxe editions that feature two exclusive bonus tracks, fans can direct their attention to the limited liquid blood vinyl that is exclusively available in the band stores and limited to 666 copies.

Issued in July 2024, the "Dream Stealer" single marked ARCH ENEMY's first new music since the release of the "Deceivers" album, which came out in August 2022.

"Dream Stealer" was mixed by Jens Bogren and mastered by Tony Lindgren at Fascination Street Studios. The accompanying music video was directed and produced by Patric Ullaeus.

Three months ago, Amott told Pulp Magazine about "Dream Stealer" and ARCH ENEMY's plans for new music: "We've been staying busy for sure and are really focused on writing and recording new stuff in between the touring we're doing. I'm kind of always coming up with new musical and lyrical ideas though — I just keep going as it's what I enjoy doing anyway. Making music is a natural process, and it's pretty much a daily thing, so it can be hard to pinpoint exactly when everything was conceived. I do, however, actually remember that the initial seed for 'Dream Stealer' was written during a songwriting session I did with Daniel [Erlandsson, drums] in Los Angeles, California, two years ago, and then it's been rearranged and updated a lot till it reached its final state that you're now hearing."

Asked if it was a conscious decision to go back to the "classic ARCH ENEMY" direction and approach with "Dream Stealer", Amott said: "I've seen some seriously great feedback from the fans, and that's always very encouraging, of course. Personally, I don't know if I’d necessarily say 'Dream Stealer' is a throwback to the sound of the past, but I get what they mean — the song has the energy and speed that is very exciting and infectious. Maybe there is a hint of vintage ARCH ENEMY in there, and why not? I'm looking forward to playing it live on stage — I think it is going to be intense as hell."

ARCH ENEMY played its first concert with new guitarist Joey Concepcion on April 24, 2024 at Musinsa Garage in Seoul, South Korea. The show was part of ARCH ENEMY's 2024 Asian tour.

Last December, ARCH ENEMY announced that it had "amicably" parted ways with longtime guitarist Jeff Loomis.

Jeff, who was the main songwriter in his previous group, NEVERMORE, joined ARCH ENEMY in late 2014, but was not involved in the writing for the latter act's last two albums, 2017's "Will To Power" and the aforementioned "Deceivers".

ARCH ENEMY is:

Alissa White-Gluz - Vocals Michael Amott - Guitar Joey Concepcion - Guitar Sharlee D'Angelo - Bass Daniel Erlandsson - Drums

Photo credit: Katja Kuhl

#arch enemy

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aranarumei · 9 days ago

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Cross examination for the wip game? 🤔

ask me about my wip list?

hiii morgan. this ask is what i made me realize that i did not actually underline the ssmyverse fics in my wip list. i have since italicized them. my bad.

all this to say. this is an ace attorney fic! specifically it is a post-aa4 klapollo fic, which is a genre of fic many people have taken a crack at. i don't know exactly how much that means to you but to make a long story short, I think apollo justice & klavier gavin have a really fun and interesting relationship in one of the ace attorney games, and I wanted to write a "get-together" type fic about them while also having a LOT of fun with epistolary segments, because klavier gavin is canonically the super popular frontman of the band gavinners.

that actually came first before the fics. i liked to make up fake albums and songs for the band because it's just a bunch of silly law stuff (canonical song titles have been: 13 Years Hard Time for Love and My Boyfriend is the Prosecution's Witness).

anyways thank you because this ask actually got me to write like. 900 words for the third ch, which is a thing I've been trying to finish for two years (fic is here on ao3). I will leave my snippet (opening of ch 3) under the cut:

Apollo messes with his hair spikes for the fifth time that night, and groans. Almost as quickly, he darts a look around him, but even though the bathroom at the Wright Anything Agency isn’t necessarily soundproof, Apollo’s also the only one in the office tonight. Trucy’s setting up her show and for once she hadn’t demanded that Apollo be her lackey, because she wanted him and Klavier to… sit through and experience it. Or something like that. He stares at his face in the mirror, taking stock of his eye bags and slowly drooping hair. Then he buries his face in his hands and mutters, “This is not a date.” Silence echoes through the Wright Anything Agency in response. I thought you were already well past that point, Phoenix had said, and what he’d meant was he thought they were already good, close friends, and it was Apollo’s stupid brain that was making up things that weren’t real. He wonders, idly, what Klavier is doing at this very moment. If he’s pulling at his hair or thinking, even for a moment, about Apollo in the same way. A couple of months ago he wouldn’t have dared imagine it—he’d known Klavier could be intensely critical from the very first case they’d had together, sure, but not that he was self-critical. If Klavier’s worrying in the same way he is… if he’s worried for the same reasons… neither are questions Apollo is qualified to answer. He takes a deep breath. His hair will have to stay the way he is. His clothes are, at the very least, not what he wears to court, and a step above a ratty t-shirt and sweatpants. It’s better than nothing; Apollo has no illusions that he won’t be outclassed in terms of fashion. He heads out.

#kiri.txt #ask #ask game #cross-examination #kagiura-akira #my writing

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daily-blog-reunion-of-2024-lore · 1 year ago

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the bad ending... Bald evil ross has killed them all there is no family reunion! Only Bald evil Ross!

guys i have got a thing to say 😔 it's time to reveal my irl identity. i am actually millicent k wood, my father is will wood. i made this blog to better connect with my dad because he has always been so distant with me. he is always so busy having his half decade hangover and i can only find him in his coffin. his music is the only thing i got to connect and understand him.

#daily blog reunion lore #apollo/ch&t

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your-new-favorite-mouse · 1 year ago

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INRTO POST!?!???

HELLO CHAT!! I have a LLOTTTT of names, but the main ones are mouse, lint, and william. im also trying out the names needle, mandy, and troy :3 feel free to stick with one or go all over the place im chill with anything. some. some may even call me ratmouse.......

i use any pronouns! any neos! anything! all of the nouns! make stuff up if you please!!! if you want like a basis, they/he/she/any. not MUCH preference but there is a tiny bit

^ funny little guy by @/okcoolthanks

i am a minor‼️

pronouns/name page

i just say shit man. and sometimes i talk about jrwi or ch&t or twdg. and other stuff

psssst we're a system and have a system blog now :3 @mousecosystem

tags and other misc. stuff under the cut

my tags:

my art will probably be tagged with #ratmouse art

if im just saying stuff (which i love to do) i will tag it with #ratmouse talkshow

#ratmouse mailbox is for answering asks :D

the creatures will be tagged with #ratmouse pets

#ratmouse writing when I write the things it goes here

i save posts in #ratmouse save this

#ratmouse tire when i need to sleep but dont (usually starts at 11pm)

#ratmouse sorrows is my vent tag because i vent on the main a tad too much

I also post a lot of lyrics so if you see the tag #lyricposting im going insane again. #troyposting for when i post about him. mainly needing him carnally

I RUN A LOT OF BLOGS!!! BAM!!!

the rp blogs. lint jrwi @number1cloudspirefan, linen jrpwi @linen-bakes-pastries, squeak jrpwi @squeakylikeamouseguy , feather jrpwi @gentlyfallingfeather, pumpkin jrpwi @pumpkin-the-therapy-cat, ruby jrpwi @ruby-rocks, echo @echoing-angel. also @abstinenceboyofprime. so thats just the jrwi blogs. i also run a blog for my dnd character max jacklyn @head-in-the-guitar

the gimick blogs. currently just @slimecicle-quotes

music that i like: Will Wood. Naethan Apollo. Modern Baseball. Los Campesinos! The oh hellos. The crane wives. cshr. weezer. AJJ. tally hall. mitski. Bears in trees. Houndmouth. WALLOWS........... slaughter beach, dog. other misc stuff

stuff that i like: just roll with it the absurdly powerful dnd podcast, qsmp, generation loss, twd telltale games (they are everything to me i love these games i replay them OFTEN), tlou, scu kinda, mcyt, chnt, dndads, hilda, school bus graveyard webcomic

^ image made by @/s0lar-ch3ri

^ this is also by @/okcoolthanks. it is the buddy. i am the rat. we are so normal about this album

#intro post #pinned post #blog intro #wtf am i doing how do i tumble on tumblr #ratmouse talkshow #ratmouse art #ratmouse writing #ratmouse pets #ratmouse tire #ratmouse save this #ratmouse mailbox #ratmouse faves #gifs #gif warning

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inevitably-johnlocked · 2 years ago

Note

Hi Steph! I’ve been reading ‘The Song of Achilles’ these days and I wonder if there was ever a johnlock au for Sherlock and John as Achilles and Patroclus? Thank you as always for your help!

Hey Nonny!

Oh gosh, not that I know of, though I BELIEVE that there is a greek mythology AU of Johnlock... Ah! Yes, these ones:

I Could Try by Arcwin (T, 9,583 w., 5 Ch. || Greek Mythology Crossover || Post-TRF, Orpheus and Eurydice Myth, POV John, Pining John, BAMF John, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Horror, Angst with Happy Ending) – John is grieving Sherlock's death post Reichenbach until one day, he sees the violin case, and something inside him tells him to pick it up. Crossover between BBC Sherlock and the Greek tragedy Orpehus and Eurydice, wherein Eurydice is killed for her beauty and taken to the Underworld. Orpheus, being the son of Apollo (the God of Music and Medicine) travels to the Underworld to convince (via playing his lyre) Hades and Persephone to let Eurydice go. Orpheus then must travel with Eurydice behind him, not looking back, until they exit to the land of the living.

Cupid's Venom by SilentAuror (E, 29,551 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, POV Third Person Sherlock, Romance, Pining, Greek Mythology, Happy Ending) – Over drinks one night, Mike Stamford reveals to Sherlock that he always wished he could have taken credit for being Sherlock and John's Cupid. Unfamiliar with the reference, Sherlock plunges into studies of toxins and Greek mythology...

------

Second one just deals with the mythology, so it's not really an AU, LOL

That all said, anyone able to help Nonny find something closer to what they're looking for?

#steph replies #johnlock fic reqs #help steph find fics #greek mythology fics #greek gods au

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fanaticastrid · 1 year ago

Text

fellas look i'm W R I T I N G

*cracks knuckles*

Welp it's high time I get to work on Ch 5 and give our boys more trauma.

Actually what's on the to-do for just Son of the Priest?

-lestollo later on at the end bc they're cute aaahahahahaha *dies*

-give meg more love god DAMN

-actually make Apollo dislikeable for a bit w how he treats Lester for a chunk of Fallen God's Plea

-Eliza Snow. Cassidy Papadopoulos. Dylan Kolwalski. Legit can't give anything but their names as it's all heavy spoilers, esp Cassidy and Eliza. But we will meet one very likely this chapter or next, and another toward the end of A Fallen God's Plea.

-Again just... Lester being a sweetheart. Being a brother to Meg. ARGH, HIS CHARACTER ARC IS MAKING ME ACHE. I can't wait to do Wrath of Neos Helios onward, and GOD I want to do the freaking Nero's Tower thing so badly you cannot possibly understand-

-with Meg being 14, of course she's going to act a little different then the canon 12 yr old Meg but I realize I need to at least try and make her be a bit more like the one we all know and love.

-I'm starting to wonder if the whole thing I have planned between Commodus and Lester is a bit too "Chosen One"-esque but if I can't figure out an alternative by the time I hit the Dark Prophecy (still need an AU name for that!) I'm keeping it no matter how ridiculous it is. On one hand it explains Commodus' beef, on the other... as I said it feels extremely forced and stuff.

-I admit, I have no idea how far I should take it with Lester. How badly do the emperors hate him compared to Apollo? Do they think he's unimportant? Valuable? Should he get freak dreams, even one I plan coming from Python himself? It's all just a matter of figuring out that as I go.

#trials of apollo #lester papadopoulos #double lester au #toa #lesterverse #fan au #alternate universe #my au #toa au

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notmuchtoconceal · 5 months ago

Text

working out with my buddy brux

whilst I unrelatedly chaztize Mercury

-- a multigenre hybrid sex rock epic

by the one & only brother jacek

. o . o .

\\./

. o . o .

\\./

I deeply identify,

i say to him,

as i workout

with my buddy brux

amidst a wholly unrelated

and eternal scourging,

which with a kiss

i call a chaztizement,

of that devil most beloved

by liars, thieves, conmen

sorcerers of the alchemical arts,

which he views,

in his brainrotted delusion,

as some tender affection

routinely doted upon him,

most hated always of Me

is He,

who is stupid like a little girl

as he is teacherous like an old crone,

suffocating as a fat and dimwitted

cow of a blud-heageoned mother.

. o . o .

\\./

. o . o .

\\./

already he's pitched his tent,

though he's yet to drop

his shorts.

i see what i want,

and take what is mine

a golden opportunity

an opportune moment

for gold

//.\

settlements i will erect

around the center pole

always looming

in the lights

the l a r g e s t

of my three-ring circus.

. o . o .

Yeah, man

\\./

I've always deeply identified

o . o .

With Stanley Kowalski

\\./

cause I really just am

o . o .

that fuckin hunky

( )

in a wifebeater.

\\./

Stella, Stella

o . o .

Flores para los muertos

\\./

Yeah, man

I really feel this...

disarming

personal anecdote shit

about how I'm so approachable

and just like you.

It lacksa certain...

institutional coercion.

Like,

aside from bein pedestrian

(fuckin people walkers)

What's the fuckin pointa

usin yer art

to get ppl 2 kno u?

(get 2 kno ppl)

That ain't any fun.

Way fuckin better

if we use our position of authority

handed down to us by God the Father

Through the Gift of Reason

to enshrine our sick distortions

born of sexual repression

as the law of the land,

and cut what is of whole cloth

into a patchwork doll

prickly as the pincushion which

we daily fuck and bled.

( )

Eminent domain.

You're only renting from me.

Huh.

\\./

Feelin a strong urge

to scourge Apollo

(RX)

Dunno where that's comin from.

Feelin

o . o . o .

How much gold you got

smuggled in you,

Robinhood?

\\./

So fuckin gay wit ur merry men,

hoppin round the woods

in ur lil tights.

. o . o . o .

There is nothing

I hate more

Than someone challenging

My preconceptions

\\./

I knew the answer

. o . o . o .

before I asked the question

( )

You didn't fuckin tell me what I wanteda hear.

\\./

Fuck you.

That melon head ain't fit to ball.

You bring out the corpsefucker

in me cocksucker

but my one worm

too many'd be

the straw'd break

the camel's back

loopin stainless

round some landfill.

Bash yer fuckin skull against a plate

watch the dicksnot

yolky wit brainrot

spew out yer fuckin eyeslits

lumpy like cottage cheese tears

we had for breakfast.

whew

rough out there

i'm hunky in a singlet

those words mean

the same to you

that's good

i can use that

ur such a good bitch

and an even better bro, brux

hard to be both a bitch

and a bro, huh?

never know where your loyalties lie.

always pledgin allegience.

fuckin poser, brux.

does yer dick actually get hard

when I point out yer a fuckin fake?

That why yer fuckin

obsessed

with Broey?

Kickin up dust,

that which is most transparent,

King of the Air,

When Earthy

You are a Duststorm

Roadrunner,

Dirt Devil,

Tasmanian Tiger,

I will be no

Coyote to You,

for I am a Wolf

and have no need

of sheep's clothing,

decked as I am in lionskin

and loined with my own whitematter

I wether myself from my nethers

and so to sip at my drip

as suck at my slurp

would be an honor as such

you instead wish to tap me.

. o . o . o .

//.\

You'd left him silent.

He hadn't yet realized.

This was the only thing

he'd ever wanted

all along

. o . o . o .

Ch-ch-choose me,

Kulkulkan's always callin

Cu Chulainn Remains

Bearing Bright Vigil

In Our Hearts,

As my boy Lane Disdains

Himself, Most Highest & He

Once & Always Future Fag

(Got u bro)

Prince without a kingdom,

Ich bin Ai to Zhe Polish Hercules

Je suis Principessa, I am Pope

what a mockery I have made

of what tender lovings

you wrought in the depths

of your splendid h*l*c**st

(Han Shot First

Varsity Lettermen

Jackit Red

assa Solo Cup

(

)(

)

Danny,

Please

[crush me]

o . o . o

Eyes wide as pis

begging craters out spics a pizaz

Leggo my dago

Pazuzu, lover of the wifebeater

Eternal Faggot

Eating at Women's Hearts

Bound by southwestern

blown winds,

Know It Is He

Who Is and Has Been

True Husband to Lilith

Lover Eternal to They

Who knew homes

well to be hearths

one and eternal

with the altars on which

they are burnt.

( o )

You deny them their nature,

You deny them me,

that spark which clears

the brushland

sodden thing that you are

creeping along

like a stormcloud

in spores rhapsodic

as spasmodic

retardastic

fantastic

how could you ever hope

to give them the ick

gifted as you are

with my aridity?

( )

Before Me,

you dissolve

Without Me,

you dissipate.

Cursed thing,

you are gracious

to have no life

but as my slave.

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