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janumun · 2 months

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Misty Affections [The L&DS Boys - NSFW]

Rated: NSFW/18+ 🌶️ (Take note of all warnings before you proceed) Pairings: L&DS Men/Reader Word Count: 6k+

Tags: polyandry/polygamy, bath/shower friskiness, multiple orgasms, oral, anal and vaginal sex, body worship, porn with little plot, double penetration, consensual somnophilia, edging, passing hints of breeding, scent kink

Summary: At the eve of your anniversary, you let the men, most precious to your heart, show you exactly how they love and cherish you. Slow and measured. Piece by piece.

Author’s Notes: I have been driven so insane ever since the drop of that crazy trailer, all I’ve been able to fantasize about are these beautiful men. Did so individually at first before they eventually converged within my mind into this behemoth romantic-sexy fest. (If you know me or my stories, you know I cannot go a second breathing without a little love in my sex LOL)

This one’s for all my harem loving folks who’ve been left thirsty after the “Misty Invasions” trailer. Happy reading!

You oscillate at the entrance to the penthouse suite, fingers tracing the sleek outline of the key card your boyfriend had provided you with, earlier; eager gaze skittering back towards the door. Heart within your throat and a swarm of butterflies flittering within the base of your stomach.

An entire year had passed you by; the day of your relationship anniversary upon you now. And you’d decided amongst you, in distinct words and heated whispers, that you’d make it a day well worth commemorating.

You smile at the recollection of Sylus’ amused gaze — blood-red garnet — as it had met your surprised one, a few days prior. He’d had you search up his entire house for an elusive Mephisto, on the pretence of having lost sight of him. Finding him at last, perched atop the silken pillows of his bed. And held within his beak, a sleek black card the bird had let drop into your palm, obedient, before taking flight.

A key access to the penthouse suite of one of the most luxurious hotels in Linkon City.

Sylus had tugged you close — his warm breath, a sweet caress against the shell of your ear — stating the date and time for you to be there, without questions asked. Your heart had thrilled at the time in nervous anticipation.

Just as it does now as you move to hoist your umbrella — damp still from the outpour outside — onto your arm, clutching a bouquet of flowers close to your chest.

Reaching to swipe your card, at long last, against the room’s digital pad—

Before the door sways open on its own. Your gaze skipping, immediate, to meet the owner’s: scarlet, warm in amused affection. “How much longer were you planning to dither at the door?” His hand curves about yours as he steers you inside. Reaching to help you out with your coat and umbrella.

“How did you even—”

Sylus angles his face in mute indication, at the door, just in time for you to catch sight of Mephisto sweeping across the hallway, disappearing just as swift around a corner, with a triumphant crow.

“I am going to cook that bird one of these days,” you mutter, discomfited at the thought of Sylus having been standing privy to your entire vacillation session outside.

A large hand curls about your jaw, insisting your gaze upwards, just as you feel the heat of Sylus’ mouth on yours. “Don’t fret any longer,” his lips brushing each word right against yours. Every stroke tending sparks of fire against your skin. “you’ll make me want to tease you. And I promised them I’d be kind to you today.” The thick baritone of his quiet laughter sinks, hot, into your chest; down into the depths of your belly.

Your hand curves about the back of his neck, heaving that infuriating mouth back against yours. “Please do be quiet for once.” Fingers grazing at the base of his hair before they card upwards, tugging at the strands.

His mouth pulls into a wider smile, just as you all but force the large bouquet of flowers you still carry, against the firm expanse of his chest.

“Happy anniversary, Sylus.” You murmur softly, flushed gaze fixated upon the flowers — snowdrops and lilies, roses and clematis — a representation of each of their colours that had painted your life brighter, over the course of your years together. You truly hoped your boyfriends would love them.

Garnet gaze narrowing in quiet affection, Sylus coaxes your attentions back to him with a call of your name. “And to you.”

“Now,” He winds an arm about your waist, dragging you flush against his torso. “let me find a place for these beauties while you go hop into the shower. You’re cold to the touch.” And when you move to protest, he silences it with a delicate brush of his thumb against your lip before he too bows forwards, to murmur, just shy of your mouth. “I promise you won’t miss me long, sweetheart.”

Leaving you in the stewing solace of your own indecent thoughts.

Your relieved exhale breaks in soft wisps of white curling into the air, well comforted by the heat of your quick shower. Your eyes drifting absently towards the bath you’d drawn, your favourite scent now permeating the space of your bathroom.

Petals rippling across the surface of placid warm waters; you knew how your artist appreciated the romanticism of your relationship. When you let yourself go and allowed yourself free expression of your adoration, for your Lemurian beloved. The colour, it never failed to bring flush to his cheeks at your simple gestures of affection, he so deserved. He had waited, and for so long.

A mere speck of his patience, against your current restless wait, ever since his message had lighted your screen earlier this evening, indicating he’d be there to join you, soon.

Sooner, you whisper into the air, slinking a cautious hand down the line of your stomach and towards your mound.

It was so incredibly difficult to have all your lovers, gathered together in one place, owing to how busy each of you were with your respective schedules. Tonight, hence, was a rare, precious occasion and you intended to make the most of it.

“Why so distracted.” A deep voice resonates at your back; a swift curl of pulsating red capturing your wrist before your fingers have the chance to brush in between your legs. Heaving your wrist up and back, depositing it prisoner into Sylus’ waiting palm. “You barely noticed me.” The roughened pads of his digits graze at the tender skin of your wrist in soft warning, before he lets go. “Couldn’t wait even a moment for me, huh?”

You turn to face him, a puckish smile you know is already teasing at the corners of your mouth. “Just engaging in some personal time.”

Sylus stands before you, body bare, save for the towel that keeps him from you, wrapped about his waist. A sturdy arm reaches past your shoulder, turning the shower off. Motions entirely unhurried. Deceptively tranquil, you do not miss the blood-red heat that simmers at the edges of that observing gaze.

“Oh?” He crowds you a step closer into the wall. Your fingers coast in tense anticipation about the knot of his towel. “You wouldn’t mind if I turned that into a private time for two, would you, kitten?”

You put on a deliberate show of pondering the question; a patient raised brow your lover keeps focused upon you.

Until you tip a coquettish gaze his way and answer. “I suppose I would no—” Your response, Sylus pilfers from your tongue before you can utter it, pulsing a quick kiss of violence against your lips.

Your digits impatiently work to release him from the final confines of his towel, absently tossing it aside. And onto the gnarled vines of red lurking at the edges of your vision, immediately reach to snatch up the cloth, discarding it into a wash bin close by.

Laughter in between heavy breaths; coveting fingers, free at last, skate down the strength of his thighs, skimming past his stiff arousal. A small gasp of appreciation you break against his mouth just as Sylus lurches his hips forward, once, into your grasp to better let you admire the effect you have on him.

“It’s been too long.” you murmur into the space he spares you in between wet kisses.

“Darling,” he exhales; a small, rough sound of pleasure. “Not yet.”

Sylus’ hands stir down the length of your body, fingers finding target, and pulsing into the soft of your ass before you can try and bribe your case with him, to give you what you want. Hefting you up entirely onto the corded strength of his arms, stifling your sound of surprise against his mouth.

He bids you wrap your legs about his waist, as he walks you both over towards the luxurious bath. “Now,” Settling down into the warm, scented water, he eases you back against himself. “Let us get you washed properly.”

You eventually relent and let him do as he pleases for the next several minutes.

Drifting a careful hand about the expanse of your legs, you try not to squirm too much when that devious hand skirts about your inner thighs. Across the arc of your clavicle, down the slope of your breastbone. His palms bear down against your abdomen in provocative press-release motions. You're not quite sure what kind of bathing Sylus assumes he’s doing except just keying you higher, the longer you endure his hands upon you.

Hands that grow unrepentant and bold with time, the self-pleased skew of those infuriating lips following soon after, down the slope of your neck, along the curve of your shoulder. You tip your face sideways, smoothing a quick kiss onto his jaw. “You keep this up any longer and you’re going to have an incredibly frustrated woman on your hands.”

He buries his grin into your shoulder.

“And I’m not sure what I’ll do then.” you threaten mildly.

“Is that so? I’d certainly like to see you try.” He accepts your provocation.

You reach an arm up, winding it about his neck. Fingers splaying against the damp brush of his hair as you angle your head up and he obliges, head canting for your mouth to catch against his. His tongue sweeps against yours in immediate insistence, your eager allowance in the slack fall of your mouth as he presses into you.

Sylus’ indolent digits change tune then; a large palm he curves about the weight of your breast and squeezes. The roughened pads of them toying at the pert apex, until he coaxes your moans out for himself.

The muted click of a lock sounds within your surroundings; quiet, save for the gentle ripples of water and your damp sounds of pleasure.

“Ah,” Sylus murmurs in between kisses. “He’s here now. We would’ve ended up using the little princeling’s entire bath for ourselves if he’d turned up any later.”

A thrill of pleasure and adoring desire crests itself within your chest, calling your approaching beloved’s name on a long sigh of pleasure Sylus wrenches out of you. “That’s it, sweetheart, tempt him on higher sounds next.”

Restless within his lap, you wrench your mouth away from his, raising yourself onto your knees to turn, capturing him in between your thighs.

Just as Rafayel steps past the threshold of the baths, appearing to be in the midst of wresting himself out a long sodden shirt. You absently muse how he must’ve forgotten to carry an umbrella with him, yet again, out on one of his painting expeditions, despite your reminder to him just last night. “It’s pouring crazy out there and I’m drenched to the bone—”

His words nicked mid-sentence with the slow rise of those bluish-florid eyes — taking in the lascivious scene in front — along with your thoughts torn into jagged shards of pleasure with the firm catch of Sylus’ teeth against your breast. A large hand he splays at your back, enticing you closer into his mouth.

Your eyes, refusing to stray from Rafayel’s, even as he remains rooted to the threshold. A flush beginning to colour against the arch of his cheeks to witness how Sylus augments your pleasure further underneath his enraptured gaze.

Pleased joy ripples through you, to be putting on a tantalising show for your beloved Lemurian, entreating him closer on soft sighs and broken moans of his name.

“Please,” your next gasp of pleasure scatters under the prick of stimulated tears. “Rafayel, my heart, come to me.”

And like a beautiful marionette pulled upon by its strings, he obeys your request, striding towards the two of you. Bestowing mercy upon your poor heart, you feel, could pound right out of your chest.

He tips downwards, long, graceful digits sweeping delicate beneath the cut of your jaw to raise. Brushing a sweet kiss of greeting against your mouth. “I’m here, beloved.”

Fingers refusing to cease his exploratory touches, his thumb glides past your cheeks, dusting right beneath your eyes at stray tears.

“Welcome home,” you greet, your own fingers curving about his jaw in hazy affection.

“You’re late,” Sylus speaks, his hand trekking a careful path about the flare of your hip.

Rafayel frowns at that. “I know. Not like I didn’t try to be here sooner.” Fingers tinkering at his belt buckle before he slides it, smooth out of its confines. Your eager hands reaching to assist, rushing down the line of buttons at his shirt, divesting him of his impediments.

“You’re freezing, Rafayel.” You observe, palms pressed up against his naked abdomen.

He catches one of your hands within his, feathering a kiss onto your knuckles. “Warm me, then.” An irrefutable instruction as much as it is his soft request.

Relieved entirely of his clothes, he steps into the bath, fingers entwining against yours in a firm hold, coaxing you onto his body instead.

“You're so cosy.” He appreciates in between hungering kisses. “Share more of your heat with me.” The soft squish of your breasts mould against the solid expanse of his chest the deeper you try and press against the other, your arms encased about his neck, fingers carding greedily through the wet strands of his hair.

Rafayel shifts your positions, guiding you back against Sylus’ chest by your threaded digits. The hard heat of Sylus’ cock presses against the cleft of your ass as Rafayel drives you further in by the urgency of his kisses.

His bond shimmers to life — a scarlet vow — right above his heart, your own thrilled by the rapidly dissipating chill of his body, replaced with passionate warmth.

“I’ve missed you.” He drags your intertwined digits closer, directing your hand to press against the thrumming of his heart. “And especially today, being so important. I wanted to be next to you for the entirety of it.”

Rafayel’s eyes, misted in desire and affection so acute, your breath catches at your throat at the sheer intensity of it. He secretes a gentle kiss into the fold of your palm. “I want us to make this a memorable anniversary.”

“You already are.” You keen softly, in assurance, fingers stroking down the length of Sylus’ thigh. “I desire you both so very much right now.”

He returns your fervent regard in the thick digits that skim past the curve of your spine, fingering in sparing strokes at the rim of your ass. You gasp at the sensation, body clenching in on the emptiness it has long been subjected to.

You need them both; the carnal strength of your want winds you breathless.

Sylus had left you suspended upon a torturous precipice for so long, you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on for.

“Hey,” Rafayel prompts.

Garnet binds immediately spring to life, streaking towards the bottles lined up neat atop a marble slab. Plucking one up as if by rote memory, before depositing it into Rafayel’s grasp. “As our princeling desires,” Sylus speaks; the raw amusement you can hear within his words.

Rafayel’s response is all but a raised brow — they have learned to synchronize well against each other, you realize with a shaky exhale. You are glad, as you are nervous, for the state of your body; the havoc they wreck onto you, once your boys are in tandem.

The lubricant well-smeared across Rafayel’s digits, he reaches in between your bodies to run his fingers against the same place Sylus does, two sets of different fingers they ease, gentle, into your ass. Rafayel’s low groan of pleasure, you lunge forwards to drink against your lips.

“I need—” you cry out against him, just as Rafayel withdraws from you entirely to leave Sylus to press his fingers deeper into you, a slow, caressing slide; eased by their gentle loosening of your hole.

Rafayel hums a low, euphoric sound. “Do you need him deep inside you, my love?”

“Yes.”

“You’re almost there for me, sweetheart. Breathe.” Sylus’ grunt of approval at your compliance, he drowns into a relishing bite at your shoulder.

Rafayel’s mouth descends upon your breasts, pulsing open mouthed kisses right above the expanse of your thundering heart, his fingers finding their way towards your neglected slit, mercifully pressing into you. A loud, broken moan wrenched out of your throat, pleasure now far palpable after having been edged for so long.

“You’re so wet. So very captivating when you are like this.”

“I love you, Rafayel.” you gasp, tears gathering at your eyes to feel so full of them both.

He pulses a kiss against your mouth in heated devotion, tongue warming against yours in between urgent breaths, “I am yours. Call for me, my beloved bride.”

“Rafayel.”

“Ah. Once more, so I know I am entirely yours to have.” he entreats, gaze heated.

His fingers gather pace — in tandem with Sylus’ controlled assault — striking rhythmic against your frontal walls on each thrust. A spot he gathers at, one that incinerates itself against his adept motions, insistent thumb gliding its touches about the sweet area of your apex, hurtling you faster towards a vehement finish.

“And that you are mine. Call my name, call for me.”

“Rafayel, my Rafayel.” And you tumble over the edge at that final delightfully sensual push, quivering nerveless, in between your lovers.

“There’s more of where that came from, kitten. Don’t give up on us now.” Sylus coaxes, extracting himself from the instinctual clench of your body, whimpering at the keen emptiness of his loss.

“Give yourselves to me,” you beg, “I need to feel you inside me.”

“And you shall have us,” Rafayel soothes, pressing the head of his cock against you.

“As many times as you need.” Sylus allows; the swell of his arousal striking heavy against the cleft of your ass.

The slow ingress of their cocks deep into your body, sends explosive stars skittering across your vision, the overwhelming fullness already throttling you into another orgasm so intense, they have to hold your body still against theirs. Propelling into you in tandem with each other until they set a rhythmic, burning pace within your swollen holes.

Rafayel’s fingers cup about your jaw, dragging you into a fervid, wet kiss. His moans of pleasure he drowns against the heat of your tongue.

Before Sylus lunges forward in a demand for your attentions next, strong digits threading through your locks to guide your head towards him, catching the string of pleasure that stretches thin in between your and Rafayel’s lips, as soon as it forms, against his mouth in a violent kiss.

The thick strength of his cock pulses firmer within your body, each swollen stroke of arousal you feel zip right up across your spine from how Sylus has taught your body to fit his daunting size, well. Each propulsion he carves deeper into your walls, a striking reminder of how intimately your body remembers the shape of him.

Rafayel takes to painting littered marks of pleasure against your neck, their lengths already throbbing in impending release, searing within you.

You squeeze about them at the sole, ruinous thought of their wet heats, flooding you soon. Moaning against Sylus’ mouth when their pacing turns reckless.

“Close,” Rafayel grits in need, cleaving your thighs up and open to constrain against Sylus, the man behind spares no mercy; hot scaffoldings of his own palms, he curves above Rafayel’s, so your sole choice is but to take.

“I’m almost, fuck—” Sylus groans a filthy, guttural sound, “you’ve gone so tight, sweetheart.” Burying his face into the stretch of your shoulder, just as Rafayel’s mouth finds yours at the apex of his pleasure, spurting hot within you.

Sylus’ own release, almost immediately after, his cock pulsates its thick release into your body, surge after surge of it, your body unable to accommodate it entirely. Their combined pleasures, the frenzied brush of both their fingers against your clit, sends you hurtling into your own orgasm, sobbing against Rafayel’s mouth.

Emptying them both, of their seed, for yourself.

You fall breathless against Sylus, strength and consciousness both seeming to flee with the final sparks of quivering pleasure that jolt about your limbs. Letting yourself rest against the strength of Sylus’ body as he soothes a kiss onto your damp temple. “A job well done, sweetheart.”

His final words, you accept in immense bliss, before entrusting yourself to your men in your vulnerability.

A long time has drifted by you, it seems — minutes or hours — you cannot quite tell the difference as your mind edges the cusp of awareness. You recall the sensation of your lovers’ hands upon you, phantom breaths that persist against the expanse of your skin, still. Words of adoration, grunts of desire, the press of their lips you feel within each sweet ache of your body.

The glancing touch of a hungering mouth, at the places you were weakest. The luxuriating stretch of silken sheets at your back — body coddled in soft fabric — as you shift, eyes drifting open on a haze of lust that still chokes your mind, a simmering wet heat kindling in between your legs. Flowing from you and onto an insistent tongue.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation, gaze rushing down the expanse of your body to snag at the sight of a silver-haired head buried in between the space of your legs, moon-pale strands brushing the skin of your thighs in ticklish strokes. “Oh. You’re awake.” Xavier speaks, right into your pussy. His fingers pulse about the catch of your legs, keeping you steady for a slow sweep of his tongue into your slit. Sending your fingers grappling forwards, into his hair, your hips lurching up into his mouth.

Cheeks flushing fast into crimson at the realisation of how wet he’s made you, in your slumber alone.

Xavier relents at last, rising from in between your legs. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” Your slick drenches his lips, smeared across his jaw; the sight sending a fresh jolt of arousal straight in between your legs.

“Xavier,” your voice sounds hoarse to your own ears. “starlight.”

He nuzzles his cheek, obedient, into the palm you stretch out for him. Pulses a wet kiss onto the expanse of sensitive skin. “We’re home.” He murmurs, clear cerulean eyes meeting yours.

“How have you been?” The quiet baritone of Zayne’s voice reaches your ears from above, you notice your head lies cradled within his lap, the pads of roughened fingertips scraping gentle circles into your scalp. You shift yourself upright onto the bed.

“Well. Now that you’re both here.” You curve coveting fingers about his jaw, luring his face closer to brush a gentle kiss against your lover’s mouth.

Zayne’s long changed out of his stifling attire, clad in a loose robe — he’s eased himself by your side. Carding absent fingers through the fall of your hair to hold steady, as you greet each other in chaste kisses.

The day’s harsh lines marred across his bow, softening with each kiss you flitter against his mouth, his cheeks, his lids apiece. He hasn’t had a proper weekend off from the hospital in ages; you’re determined to make the most of it now and help ease your beloved’s nerves tonight, and over the course of your rare days off.

You all deserved it, this short moment of reprieve, a chance to celebrate and enjoy what was purely yours.

You inch up across his lap, body much too aware of the moisture that soaks past swollen folds and leaks onto your thighs, an obscenity barely concealed by the flowing frills of your flimsy nightwear, caressing just past your ass. A fact, Xavier has not let you forget, owing to how his hands haven’t deprived you of their warmth, even when his mouth has — slow, stimulating touches across the stretch of your thighs, fingers tickling at the sensitive skin underneath your knees.

Xavier advances up the length of the bed, with you. His torso draping onto your back, careful hands gathering your hair to shift onto your other side, he grazes a demure kiss onto the crescent of your exposed shoulder.

You sink down upon Zayne, securing your much needed support, in the palms you press against the hard expanse of his chest. “How was your day?” Murmuring the question into the give of his neck.

“I had a graft and by-pass surgery planned earlier this afternoon.” Zayne replies, fingers trekking a measured path from your throat, down, along the slope of your clavicle; you shiver underneath his scrutiny. “It went well, so I was able to join you sooner rather than much later.”

“Owing all to your brilliance surely, Dr. Zayne.” Your affectionate smile, you secrete against his mouth. “Xavier, however. I expected you sooner, starlight.”

He hums — a sound of morose defeat — into your skin. “I nearly dozed on my feet during that unnecessarily long briefing.” Burying his face into the side of your neck, to breathe; his next murmurs stifled. “They could’ve just mailed the mission details to me. I wanted to head back with you too.”

You laugh softly, sinking your fingers indulgently into the silken strands of his hair. “Captain Jenna would be so upset if she heard you right now.”

“And you.” Large palms cup about the pliant flare of your waist, your breath hitches at Zayne’s provocative touch. “It certainly looks like those two did a somewhat decent job of taking care of you in our absence. The colour’s back in your cheeks.”

You smile, sheepish, at the remembrance of your last meeting; his displeased frown, vivid, from across the barrier of his work desk, as he’d prescribed a few vitamins for you to take, owing to the sallow pallor that had taken your face, an aftermath of long sleepless nights chasing Wanderers.

“Oh, they have.” You assure, “Speaking of, where are my missing two?”

Xavier’s teeth sink into a testing bite at the flesh of your neck. “Fixing a meal I think, Sylus mentioned.” He murmurs absently.

“Ah. We should all have—” your voice fractures. “dinner together.”

“Later.” Zayne leans forward, mouth skimming a gentle kiss in between your breasts. “Right now, I require you sate a different hunger of mine.” Teeth catching at the gauzy fabric of your lingerie. “Don’t make me wait any longer.” The low rugged quality to his request, pooling arousal deep into your belly.

“I like how she looks in this,” Xavier smooths a touch down the length of your thigh, fingering, gentle, at the frilled garter of the stocking encasing it. “I’m almost jealous of you, Doctor.”

“It is becoming on her,” Zayne agrees, large fingers cupping about the shape of your breasts, rolling at the peaks. You shift your hips in a grind upon his thigh, in an anguished effort for further stimulation. “But does the recipient herself approve of my gift?”

“She does,” you gasp. “If it gets you looking at her with such need, she does—” The rest of your words, Zayne pilfers right into his mouth in an engulfing kiss.

Strong fingers ghost the pliance of your body, down in between your legs to meet Xavier’s. Hot, glancing touches across your quivering pussy, coating their fingers in copious slick.

“The doctor looks so wound up,” Xavier comments mildly. “Help him relieve some of that pent-up stress, baby.”

“You—” Zayne grunts, just as Xavier steers your bodies until you lie, pliant, upon Zayne’s lap, the straining outline of his arousal barely concealed under the modesty of his robes. You moan enthusiastically, fingers undoing the fastenings of his robe to release him, free against eager lips.

“That looks painful,” Xavier comments with an insouciant shrug, hands firming their grip about your ass to raise. “How long have you been holding back?”

“Quiet, Xavier.” Zayne reproaches, voice throttled in raw need.

Your heart and body immediately melting for him, you put your mouth to the head of his cock, taking him in.

A quiver rips across his abdomen at the first lap of your tongue on him, his fingers gentle, encouraging within your hair. A vehement desire cascades forth: to see him make more of that expression, just for you.

“Wet him for yourself, just like that.” Xavier encourages on a soft catch of breath, tapered fingers curving into your drenched slit to stroke against your frontal walls.

Working your tongue steadily, about the generous girth of him — Zayne’s digits remain a patient point of pressure against your scalp — until he hits your throat, pleasant and full, at long last. You groan around him, Zayne swallowing heavily at the vibrations of your throat.

“Don’t be gentle.” Xavier speaks, releasing himself from the wet confines of your clenching walls — fingers he unfurls forwards, to smear across the free length of Zayne’s cock, your throat could not accommodate.

You feel Xavier settle heavy, upon the cleft of your ass; the head of his own cock he glides, indolent, in between your dripping folds.

And just as your insides flutter in impatient emptiness at the baiting stimulation, he enters you on a swift stroke, your garbled sound of pleasure, sending you deeper onto Zayne.

Xavier sets a furious, punishing pace for the three of you, your mouth working diligent against the hard strain of Zayne’s arousal. Your smothered cries of delight mixing with theirs, heated into the air; Zayne’s low guttural groans stirring deep into your belly, within the same space Xavier works open with his cock.

Your silver beast descends upon you, mouth working a steady path along the length of your spine, tongue sweeping a cool, wet trail in its wake.

His fingers reach to tuck stray strands of hair away from your face — easing them behind an ear before he gathers the fall of your hair into a gentle fist, granting an obstructed view of your ruination, to your lover in front.

The pleasured flush dashed across Zayne’s cheekbones, hurtles higher to witness the wreck of desire you know is upon your face. He looks at you as if he wants to love and ruin you, it sends a jolt of inundating slick, right between your legs.

Xavier grunts at your tightening walls, licking a strip up the curve of your ear. “Can I—” His voice ruptures in overwhelming arousal. “—inside? I want to. Let me?”

Your answer; a moan of vehement assent, intermixing with Zayne’s responsive groan. Come for me, Xavier.

His grip upon your hips turns bruising, pelvis driving hard against your ass until he’s releasing himself; hot, pulsating strokes of come, painting into you.

He pulls almost immediately out of your quivering walls, palms shifting underneath your body to lift, until he positions you, right atop Zayne’s drenched cock. His seed still spilling out onto the swollen head of him, just as he coaxes your hips down to take Zayne in, the two of you groaning out in concert at your union.

Zayne surges forwards, sweat soaked forehead pressing against yours; a low, inarticulate curse tumbles from his lips at the clench of your walls, still sensitised from Xavier’s release.

“You’re burning up.” Long, thick digits curve beneath the nerveless stretch of your thighs, guiding you in deep, measured thrusts over his cock. Xavier’s ministrations having had you well-prepared to accommodate Zayne in a single stroke.

On usual days, your body able to accept him only in gradual, pleasurable propulsions, he works deep into your pussy.

“Lean on me.” Zayne speaks.

You do as he asks, appreciative of the reprieve allowed to let go and let Zayne guide you both into bliss. His fingers stroke about your entrance, a thumb he grazes against your clit, in an electrifying jolt of pleasure.

“Come now.” He instructs the man at your back. Soothing a hand down the curve of your spine when you feel Xavier’s arousal, firmed into solid stone once more, at your entrance. You moan at the prospect of what’s to come. Never having accepted any of your lovers into the same space, when Zayne is inside you.

“Breathe for me.” He asks of you. “Look at me.” And you do, in willing love; gaze finding his, coddled in the comfort of his verdant eyes — steady — even in the heated throes of your combined passion. “I am here for you.”

Just as the head of Xavier’s cock presses, insistent at the base of Zayne’s, your body beginning to give into him. Zayne hastens to curb his grunt of pleasure into your mouth, tongues moving against the other as Xavier steadily strokes a slow path into you.

Both your men settling whole and so incredibly full within your body, you sigh in shuddered stimulation when they navigate a rhythm in between your bodies, never leaving you empty for even a moment’s reprieve. A stretch so good, it stirs satisfaction deep into your stomach. The desire for them to leave you drenched up to your womb as you voice it on incoherent whispers, head rolling back onto Xavier’s shoulder.

Their hands; gripping about the shell of your hips, down upon the flare of your thighs. Across the pinching stimulation of your breasts, your throat. Xavier’s fingers brushing to feel the desperate thrumming of your carotid beneath his hold.

Sweeping an index across your damp lip, end to end, before he slips a finger into your mouth, toying at the pink of your tongue as it darts out for a taste.

The fever of your desire streaks higher, passion so incinerating, it only takes Zayne a thumbing caress across your clit before you are convulsing, violent about the two of them in a loud, sobbing cry. Wetness slicking down your thighs despite the way they plug you, their pacing climbing faster with each swift second of inundating pleasure your clenching walls force upon them, chasing a high they seek to release into your body alone.

And when they come with bated breaths and strangled groans, your combined essence overflows from in between your legs, staining the sheets wide and dark beneath.

It is only several breathless moments later that you are able to move, body wasted and draped upon your chosen seat — Zayne does not look as if he minds much, smoothing a kiss onto the sweat-slick stretch of your breastbone. “Happy anniversary, my reckless Hunter.” And then in slower, softer words. “I love you.”

You kiss your response against his mouth; a happy, languorous sound leaving your throat. Curving an arm tighter about Xavier nuzzled into the side of your waist, your gentle beast having settled into a short slumber, after having murmured of needing your warmth close by.

The doors to their bedroom slide open just then, to admit Sylus, carrying what looks to be an expensive bottle of wine and a set of glasses, nestled onto a salver perched across his arm. Rafayel, following close on heel, with a large tray on hand; the pleasant scent that wafts from the steam laced spice off the fresh spread of food, triggers your bout of hunger.

“Reckless brutes,” Sylus comments, an amused brow he raises upon witnessing the utter disarray of your wrecked states. A smile that skews only wider with the distasteful knit to Zayne’s brow.

As if he was one to speak, you would’ve snorted in defence, if you weren’t so drained.

Xavier, too, stirs beside you at the commotion just as the last two men of your heart move to join you upon the vast bed. “Get up and eat.” Sylus instructs, rapping his fist against Xavier’s prone form.

“You alright?” Rafayel questions, the moment he is seated at your side, reaching to entwine his fingers in between yours, a hoarse sound of approval you respond with, at his pleasant touch.

In between Zayne and Rafayel, they guide your body into an upright position.

Your head coasts sideways and onto Rafayel’s shoulder, in languid stupor, as he brings a spoon of hot broth to your lips. “Start with this, you’ll feel better once warmed from the inside.”

“Warm her, they did already… from the ‘inside’ that is,” Sylus’ licentious whisper reaches your ears from the side, setting your face to an incandescent glow at the recollection.

“Crude.” Rafayel reproaches — you do not, however, miss the scandalised red that seeps across his ears at his provocations.

You join in quiet laughter at Sylus’ words, burying your face deeper against Rafayel’s skin. A cosy arm he immediately brings about your shoulders to hold you close, as he continues to satiate your other, necessary hunger.

His scent soothes and settles deep into your lungs, gaze trekking, absent, to the stretch of skin exposed beneath his unbuttoned shirt, from where you smell his perfume strongest. A sudden, stray thought of wanting to lap a path up against him, assaults your mind, sore body responding in feeble protest.

A shadow falls upon you; Sylus’ thumb brushing, delicate, at the corner of your lips. “Eat well for now. Replenish your strength.” A kiss he nips onto your ear, you shiver at the muted stimulation.

“Sylus—”

“You’ll have your fill of us, as much as your heart desires, after.” He promises in decadent whispers.

Your men, proving true to his words; the rest of your long night spent in seeking love against each other’s skins and within their embrace.

Until they engrave proof of their existence — devotion and desire — scattered like scarlet jewels along the canvas of your body.

End Notes: This is my first foray into writing this kind of relationship for my favorite media and I enjoyed each excruciating second of agonizing over positions and 🍆s. Although I adore a hot poly romance just as much as the next person (cough Him&Him&Him), it certainly isn’t something I’ll personally be trying again any time soon LOL.

Likes, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated, if you are so inclined, and never fail to put a smile on my face.

If you’d like to be added to my tag list for future stories, you can fill this quick form.

Visit my Master List

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megamindsecretlair · 6 months

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Foolish

*Heed warnings*

Pairing: Jatemme Manning x Bratty!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. PWP, Filth, cursing, PIV, size kink, mentions of violence, gun use, drug use, brat reader. Reader does get turned on by violence, if this disturbs you click away. All consensual. Established relationship. Heavy use of n-word.

Summary: You are tired of being Jatemme's arm candy. Forever guarded and without 100% of his attention. As the race for Alderman heats up, you're at a fundraising event when you grow bored and decide to test Jatemme's devotion.

Word Count: 3,494k

A/N: I was a little unhinged writing this, so it was written in a bit of a daze. Please let me know what ya'll think about this one. I can't find the ask where people expressed interest so don't be mad at me if I didn't tag you! I'm sorry! I'm also not married to the moodboard, so it might change. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Taglist: @planetblaque @blowmymbackout @browngirldominion @sageispunk @harmshake @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @blackerthings

You were bored. Just because you told your man to leave you alone, didn’t mean you actually wanted him to do it. Why couldn’t niggas ever listen? What’s so hard to understand? “Leave you alone” obviously meant to give you attention?

You were at a fancy event for Jatemme’s brother, Jamal, who was running for Alderman. Snooze fest. Jatemme promised that you weren’t going to be here long. That you’d only have to sit like a doll for an hour tops, before he took you shopping and out to eat.

One hour turned to three and you were still sitting at Jamal’s table, surrounded by Jatemme’s crew while Jamal and Jatemme did business. You scanned the room for your man but didn’t find him.

You did see Jamal who was hard to miss. He was the type to walk into the room like he owned it and as if everyone owed him money for it. Jatemme was quieter, but deadlier. He instantly drew you in with his sleepy eyes, soft umber skin, and intense presence. His darkness called to something within you and never let go.

The relationship wasn’t without its up and downs. You liked to keep him on his toes. Get him to have a little fun. He always followed in Jamal’s shadow when it was Jatemme that did most of the work. Most of the planning. Most of the ideas.

You sighed, loudly once more, and turned briefly to your table to sip your nasty ass champagne. Fucking politicians. Pretending like they weren’t all into something dirty, getting over on the little guy. Namely Black folk.

Jatemme’s crew gave you funny looks. They knew better than to touch you or stare too hard. But you often caught them looking at your body and your too short dresses. They also hated your attitude. Jatemme made you swear to stop messing with them. It was hard to find good help when you were constantly flirting with them and he was constantly killing them over it.

Maybe that was Jatemme’s problem. Now that Jamal was running for Alderman, there was a public scrutiny on the family business. Jatemme doesn’t have free rein to do as he pleased now. Go wherever he wanted. Do whatever he wanted.

You sighed once more and checked your phone. You texted your best friends in your group chat, that you were bored and in desperate need of fun. Misty immediately texted you back and told you to meet them at a club not too far from there. That was exactly what you needed.

You looked over at the crew of four burly men and stood up. One of the them, Martin, stood up as well prepared to follow you. “No need, Marty, I’m just going to the little girl’s room,” you said and smiled sweetly.

Martin gave you a blank stare. He adjusted the suit jacket over his thick arms and put his hands in his pockets. “You know the rules,” he said.

You kept your sweet smile, knowing that your lips were glossed just so to catch the light overhead. That your champagne colored dress hugged your figure just right. The night was young and you were wasting it by being arm candy.

“You gonna follow me into the bathroom and hold my purse too? I don’t think Jay would like that,” you sang.

Martin looked towards the other men who looked everywhere but at him. They did not want that particular smoke. Decisions, decisions. Martin cleared his throat. “Come right back,” he said.

You smiled. “Of course. You all act like I’m not an angel,” you said. The men wisely didn’t comment. You turned and sashayed out of the room, already done with the entire night. You didn’t see your man and you didn’t care at the moment.

You waited until you left the hotel ballroom before pulling out your phone. You ordered an Uber on your way out to the front. People from the reception had spilled out into the hallway, discussing things that they didn’t want others overhearing, even by accident.

You passed by stick figure women in dark red, blue, or black dresses, pointy shoes, and stiff upper lips. You passed by men in their penguin suits, pretending to give a shit. The total wealth combined in the room could help everyone in the Ward but they held onto it like gremlins.

It made you sick.

You went outside, shivering slightly from the bite of cold. When your Uber arrived, you didn’t even look back towards the hotel. It was almost criminal how easy it was to slip your chains. Further proof that this shit was getting stale and you might be headed towards another break from Jatemme. Let him sit and stew over what he would miss before he came crawling back with gifts, kisses, and that big dick of his.

You grinned as you texted Misty that you were on your way. She texted back with plenty of emojis, some of them skulls, because she already knew that Jatemme was going to blow his lid. Let him.

It didn’t take long to reach the rougher areas of Chicago. Almost literally down the street from the glitterati, the houses weren’t as nice. The grass not so green. Fences and bars on the windows. Corner boys selling dope in baggy jeans and oversized T-shirts.

The club was set back from the street to allow for a little more parking. You got out and Misty met you outside. She hugged you with many squeals and jumping up and down. “Slipped the doom patrol?” She asked.

Misty was gorgeous, with deep, dark skin and microbraids twisted into two buns atop her head. She was a thick, curvy girl who was always quick with a laugh. She immediately ushered you inside. You turned off your phone. Make Jay sweat a little bit.

You spent the entire night dancing with your girls and getting drunk on your favorite drink. All of the songs were hitting, back to back. A mix of 2000s and 2010s music. The good shit that demanded you dance right this instant.

Plenty of dusty ass niggas tried to pull you into a dance and you pushed them all away. It cost to put hands on you. It cost to be in your presence. Ain’t nobody getting shit for free.

By the time the club called for last drinks, you were tapped out. You were not wearing the proper shoes for dancing in the club. You were shocked that you lasted as long as you did. And yeah, you missed your man. You were a little drink, a lot horny, and you just wanted to be fucked at this point and put to sleep.

You walked out, hanging onto your friends. One of them, Kiki, was the lightweight. She was dragged between two friends while she muttered something. You giggled and walked with them to their car.

Rounding the corner, there were a group of guys passing a joint between them. They wolf-whistled as you passed by. One of them sure was fine. Tall, bald, with a thick luscious beard that covered the lower half of his face. You wondered what he’d look like with your juices dripping from it.

You didn’t condone cheating. But if you were on a break…

You smiled at him as you passed, tossing your hair over your shoulders. “Gahh damn, lil mama, where you headed?” He asked.

You giggled and kept walking with your girls. It was nice to be wanted. You turned your phone on while your friends tried to get Kiki into the car and not entertaining the men by the building.

As it turned on, messages flew in with loud dings and flashes across your screen. You had…quite a lot of missed calls from Jatemme. Angry texts too. You appreciated that he never called you out of your name when he was angry, but he had plenty of other colorful ways to show his displeasure. Like calling you by your real name. Ew.

He was good and pissed that you left. That your phone was off. He promised hell, fire, and damnation when he finally caught up to you. You pictured him driving around fuming. His sleepy eyes narrowed even further. The cute way his nostrils would flare and the vein that pulsed in his neck.

You were getting wet just thinking about it. The sex would be immaculate tonight. You sighed dreamily as you went through his unhinged text messages.

“Bitch! Help? Hello?” Misty called out. You giggled and moved towards the car, pushing at Kiki’s big ass head to get into the car. Misty slammed the door in her face and sighed as if she’d been wrestling a bear.

She faced you with a small grin before her eyes darted behind you. The sexy bald headed man approached you, licking his lips and looking you up and down. He held out his hand when he was near enough.

“I had to come introduce myself,” he said.

“I appreciate that. But I’m too high-maintenance for you, boo,” you said. You flirted with the idea of being responsible for another man’s death, but he was too cute to sacrifice for your own dastardly enjoyment. There were so few, gorgeous Black men these days. The 90s had all the fine men. They were long gone now. God just wasn’t building them like that no more.

“I like a little high-maintenance,” he said.

You laughed. Said no man ever. “I’m the type to empty accounts,” you said and smiled.

“I got several. Pick one,” he said. He looked you in the eye as he said it and made you reevaluate him as a whole. He was dressed nice in dark plaid slacks, black polo, with a big watch on his wrist. Nothing too flashy, but enough that it convinced you he wasn’t another broke nigga.

You were considering his offer, wondering how you could prove that he was for real and not just trying to get into your panties. Squealing tires tore your gaze away from the man as you saw Jatemme’s truck flip a bitch into oncoming traffic and speed into the parking lot.

“Shit. You better run before my man catch you talking to me,” you said, though he probably already saw you.

“I ain’t scared,” the man said. Bless his little heart.

“Nigga, I’m trynna protect you. Leave, now,” you said, shooing him away from you and your girls. Maybe you could convince Jatemme that the man was trying to flirt with Misty. You turned behind you, but Misty held her hands up.

“I ain’t trynna die for your Black ass,” she said.

“Bitch!” You screamed, but you couldn’t stay serious for long. You grinned and shook your head. Before the truck had a chance to come to a full stop, Jatemme and crew hopped out, grabbing guns from their waistbands.

“They got guns!” Someone called out. The parking lot emptied with a speed only achieved in the hood. Too many people who knew the consequences of a stray bullet and weren’t trying to lose their lives over it. Some brave souls remained, peeking behind cars and around the building into the additional parking in the alleyway.

You couldn’t help it. Your thighs tingled. Your heart skipped a beat seeing Jatemme climb out of the driver’s seat with that slow, menacing gait of his. His eyes were glued on you as he walked towards you.

The cutie remained, like he would really stand in front of a bullet for you. You couldn’t give him any more warnings. You couldn’t save him from his own stupidity. Jatemme stopped a few feet in front of you.

His face was deceptively calm. He crossed his arms in front of him, Glock on display. His crew formed a formidable wall behind him. Martin sported a darkening bruise on his cheek and you only felt slightly bad for getting him into trouble. At least he was still alive. That was something.

You bit your lip and giggled nervously. “Hi, baby,” you said.

“Did he touch you?” Jatemme asked. His voice. God, you could listen to that voice recite the dictionary and you’d listen to every word.

You shifted your footing. “Nope. Never seen this man before,” you said.

“Aye, if you’re in trouble…” The man said. Martin, being the closest, lifted his gun into the man’s face. The gun was pressed to his temple and the man audibly gulped.

“Did he touch you?” Jatemme asked once more.

You looked him in the eye. “No.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” Jatemme said to the man. The man looked at you, but you knew better than to acknowledge his presence. You heard his friends calling for him, telling him not to be a hero, not to lose his life over some bitch.

The man backed away, keeping his eye on Martin and the shiny gun in his face. Jatemme jerked his head and you sighed, following behind him. If he was going to take you away, he was beyond angry. Maybe you actually worried him this time. That wasn’t your intention. You wanted to scare him a little, not worry him.

You waved goodbye to your friends. They shot you alarmed glances, but you told them that Jatemme never raised a hand to you. Never. He liked getting his revenge in other ways.

He opened the door for you and you climbed into the front seat. He got into the driver’s seat, peeling away from the club so fast, he probably sprayed everyone with rocks and gravel. He didn’t speak. He drove through the quiet streets, heading back towards the hotel you escaped from.

“Baby–”

Jatemme held up a hand like he didn’t want to hear it. You bit your lip. You really stepped in it now. Was it bad that you were turned on? Punishment shouldn’t be this exciting and yet, your mind raced through what he had planned. How he was going to show that he cared for you.

He pulled to the front of the hotel and tossed the valet his keys. The gun was tucked away into his jeans. Fancy events didn’t mean he had to be the one who dressed up. He did have a clean, sky blue shirt buttoned to the very top. He opened the door and let you out.

He didn’t speak while he pushed you inside, the event well and truly over by now. He didn’t speak as you rode the elevator in crushing silence and velvet flooring muffling your heels. He didn’t speak as he got out onto the twelfth floor, leading you to a suite you didn’t know he got for the night.

Once inside, you gasped. There was a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket. Low lighting made the room glow like looking through a piece of glass at twilight. “You did all this for me?” You asked.

“If you would have behaved yourself,” he said.

The suite was big enough to have a full living room with couches and armchairs, shiny mahogany coffee table, and a wide screen TV. Behind a set of double doors, there was a bed already turned down, waiting for you to climb in.

You pouted. Your man was so sweet sometimes, it made your heart ache. He didn’t always show this softer side. The side that liked snuggling up to trashy movies late at night, snacking in bed, and enjoying each other’s company.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” He asked. His voice was barely above a whisper. Enough to get his point across. You truly had worried him.

You turned to him with an apology on your lips but he was already invading your space. He grabbed your face and pulled you into a rough kiss, slanting his lips across yours as if he meant to stake a claim. Prove a point. You belonged to him. There was no way of getting out of it. No way of running.

You gripped onto him tightly. “I hate when you worry me like that,” he said.

“You promised,” you whined.

His lips returned to kissing you, looking for the zipper on your side to unzip you from the dress. When he couldn’t find it, he began to rip it with his bare hands. “Hey!”

“I’ll buy you more,” he said. His lips returned to kissing you. More like possessing you. He kissed you like he wanted to meld your bodies together to keep you by his side. This was what you needed. What you had been craving all night.

Your bra and panties went next, baring you completely to him. He wasn’t in it to admire your body right now though. You knew him. He had been worrying about you all night and needed to see you. Feel you. Make sure that you really were in front of him and not a figment of his imagination.

He turned you around and slapped your ass. You screamed out, jumping away from the sharp sting. He pushed you towards the deep gray couch and bent you over the back of it. It dug into your tummy but you were too turned on to notice the pain.

He unzipped his zipper and freed himself with a low groan, spreading your ass cheeks and rubbing his dick through your wet folds. Your hands feebly gripped onto the couch cushings, fingers digging into the linen.

Once his tip was good and wet, he stuffed you and you cried out from the burn of his girthy dick pushing into you. Your eyes crossed. He felt too good to contain to a single moan. You yelled out without abandon, not caring who heard you. If the neighbors complained, Jatemme would handle that too.

His strokes were bruising, punishing, near cruel as he slammed into you over and over. “You and this fucking attitude gon’ kill me,” he groaned. His fingers grabbed hold of your hips and slammed you back onto his dick. Like his strokes weren’t enough. Like you weren’t moving fast enough for him.

“Oh baby, oh fuck–I’m sorry!” You cried out.

“No, you not,” he said. No, you were not. You’d do everything all over again if he meant that his attention was back on you. That his hands were back on you. That his dick was inside you, spearing you, driving you to new pleasures each and every time.

Your feet were scrambling for purchase. He didn’t care. He fucked you like you were no more than a toy to stick his dick in. One hand reached behind you to push against his chest. His shirt slipped between you so he lifted it and brought his flesh flush with yours. Then, he grabbed your outstretched hand and pulled it behind you, resting on your back while he used the new position as a new anchor. His strokes grew deeper, more desperate.

“I catch you talking to another nigga and I’ma kill him,” Jatemme whispered harshly.

“Yes, baby,” you moaned. You’d seen him kill niggas for far less. For daring to turn their neck in your direction. He once told you that if he could blind the male population of Chicago, he would.

“Oh fuck!” You screamed out, crying through your punishing orgasm.

Jatemme grunted in satisfaction. “That’s your first one for the night. I hope you’re keeping count,” he said.

“Baby, wait…” You grunted between his deep thrusts.

“Like you made me wait tonight?” He asked. He yanked on your hair, forcing you to look back at him. You stared into his eyes while he filled you up with his cum. He came with a low, grumbling moan that shook your inner walls.

Your mouth dropped open as his dick pulsed and twitched. Your legs were jelly, kept standing by pure force by him. His will to keep you spread open for him ensured that you were a vessel for his dick. His own personal fucktoy.

He made you cum two more times while your neck was craned, looking back into his soulful eyes. You ran out of curse words to shout to the heavens. Your eyes ached from the way they rolled. Your essence mixed with his spend dripped down your legs in a slow river that tickled your legs.

He finally slipped out, giving you a bit of a break. You huffed, legs shaking, arms weak. He picked you up and carried you to the bed, spreading your legs open once more. He fisted his dick, jerking the length of it while he looked at your destroyed pussy leaking with his cum.

“Hope you didn’t plan on sleeping tonight,” he said with a small grin.

You panted with a nervous giggle. He proved throughout the rest of the night just how much he missed you and made you promise not to do it again. Well, at least not anytime soon.

The end.

There will be more! The Secret Jatemme Files

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zizz-asdf-re-r-o-u · 3 months

Text

So You Want To Know Garu & Karu (Timeline Edition)

Very loosely inspired by Idololivine's Olivine post and Halfeti's Edmond post. Update: here's Phaerlax's post about WRITING Garu&Karu

Lore spreadsheet: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1BSTEdunb5PwVkhcuoEkaFVXUIk02FCnsoYkhL8yB9pA/edit?gid=221633315#gid=221633315

This is also going to double as a directory of all my Garu/Karu analysis posts.

Note: I did not play every 2022/2023 event, so if Garu/Karu had a tiny cameo in other events, I might have missed it even when watching recordings of past events. Please let me know if I'm missing something or have something wrong.

Warning for many spoilers & also trauma!

This timeline was last updated when Ch 14 pt2 was released.

This is an attempt at a complete timeline of Garu & Karu's history, that we know of. I've written quite a few meta about Garu/Karu, and thought we also need a concrete "these are the canon facts of their history".

Pre-Eiden Arrival:

Assume all these dates are before from Eiden's arrival in Klein.

[25-30 years ago before Eiden arrived in Klein] Garu was born to a nomad wolf spirit pack with a gemstone in his throat (Misty Vale, Ch 14)

[20-25 years ago] Garu, still a cub (in Earth normal wolf years, that would mean 3.5~ months old, unsure about Klein wolf spirit years), is kidnapped by some humans that eventually brought him to the Council of Sorcery (Ch 14).

[20-25 years ago] Kolt and his research team force Garu to transform into a wolf yokai/human form. Karu is formed as a DID trauma protective response. (Ch 14)

[23 years ago] Huey disappears, Eiden is born

[20-23 years ago] Kolt & his team continue to torture Karu, while Garu is dormant during the experiments, Cashel takes care of their injuries. (Ch 14)

[20-23 years ago] Rei returns to Council of Sorcery, Cashel catches him up with what's going on. The church has some kind of plan for Kolt's experiment (aka Garu/Karu), so 2 scientists on Kolt's team remove Garu's gemstone, Karu kills them, Rei & Cashel escape with Karu. (Ch 14)

[10-20 years ago] Garu/Karu and Cashel/Gramps are hiding in a cabin in the Dead Zone, killing monsters, taking care of people who get lost in the Dead Zone. At one point, Cashel/Gramps nearly drowns and never recovers from the illness. (Ch 7)

[3-10 years ago] Gramps dies, leaving Garu/Karu to wander Dead Zone alone. They do also find a cave for their main hiding spot. They also meet Blade occasionally in the Dead Zone. (Ch 7, AxBxO)

[Year Eiden arrives] Eiden meets Karu 1st, then Garu in the Dead Zone. Eiden proposes the human slave plan & Karu accepts. (Ch 7)

At this point, I don't know where the timeline is, because we don't know when the events are taking place amongst the main chapters, so I'll split it into sections.

Main story timeline:

Ch 8: Garu/Karu meets the rest of the gang and moves into Aster's mansion.

Ch 13: Garu reunites with Rei & co, they travel to Wood territory to find Kuya & Quincy because the Wood territory is in danger.

Ch 14: Karu makes Rei promise not to tell Garu his history, in part 2, he does anyways.

Events/SSR timeline:

Master's Gift: revealed that Karu idolizes/occasionally visits Kuya

Mystic Banquet/Endless Banquet SSR: G/Karu are not invited to the yokai banquet because they're under 100 years old and not as powerful as Yakumo. Kuya takes them and Eiden along to be his attendants. Shenanigans happen. Note: In the lore document, it says that Garu produced purple flames during his performance. That was actually Kuya that created the flames.

Idol Fest: Karu is a fan of Blade's idol persona.

Klein Star: Karu and Dante hunt a wild animal as a birthday present for Eiden.

Eerie Escapade/Howling Cyclone: It is revealed that Yakumo reads adventure stories to them, Garu likes drawing pictures, and shenanigans happen.

Silver Miracle: Garu sticks up for Kuya when the rest of the clan assumes Kuya is endangering Eiden with Night Crane shenanigans.

AxBxO/Forgotten Fruit: Shenanigans happen inside a book AU. Garu officially asks out Eiden to be his commander/master. Karu admits that he doesn't hate Eiden in a very backhanded way.

Misty Vale/Ethereal Guardian: Garu finds how hints about his past, so we can assume this event happened before ch 14 for sure.

Frozen Echoes/Binary Starlight: Echo spirits shenanigans happen including Karu getting kidnapped for 2/3 of the event. Garu & Karu perform with Edmond & Quincy for the Festival, Aster sells merch with everyone's face. Karu is scouted and then auditions to be a model, shenanigans, he gets some fans, and then ends up being a model/promoter for one of the restaurants.

Garu/Karu make cameos in Journey to a Nu World and Fancy Capricio, but they're AU/dreamland events and therefore not happening in the real (Klein) world. The only thing that happens in the real (Klein) world is that they join the clan in the hot springs.

Desert of Dusk/Stampeding Adventurer: Garu goes with Eiden to a town outside of Solaria while Dante is investigating it. Shenanigans. We can assume this event happened before ch14 because Garu has another confusing flashback.

Dessert Island Knockout/Beguiling Windchaser: Garu wins round 1 of the sports competition, and then together with Dante & Quincy wins the final flag of the whole contest. Garu is fast enough to be able to dodge both Dante and Quincy's (paintball/fire) attacks. Karu is apparently afraid of ghosts now, and can be easily fooled by human scent tricks.

This post will be updated as future events/chapters occur!

All my Garu/Karu analysis posts:

#nu carnival #garu #karu #nu carnival meta #nu carnival analysis #analysis #meta #personal

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practicecourts · 6 months

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day 11 Moody @jilymicrofics is a little early (maybe I'm getting reckless, we will see, also I've not forgotten day 10...)

and since it's for day 2 of @mppmaraudergirl's Alight With Happines jily fest - The Doe-mestic moments I decided to post it now rather than wait to tomorrow ;-)

Read the Shit Show on ao3 (tw: mentions of - you guessed it- poo)

The Shit Show

With a flick of her wand the water in her mug came to a boil. Lily carefully dropped the heartshaped tealeave holder into it. Just looking at the silly thing brought a smile to her lips. James had found it on a day out in Muggle London. Sirius got some excellent additions to his Record collection, and her husband had bought this trinket for her. He’d been proud as a peacock for finding such an excellent addition to their kitchen utensils, a tea maker for his love. It was barely light out, through the kitchen’s window she saw their garden turn from grey to green. Slowly, she made her way up the stairs. The silence was deep, comforting and serene. The door to their bedroom was ajar, she peeked inside and frowned when there was no sign of James in their bed. The small cot was empty too. Leaving her mug on the bedside table she pushed the door to the bathroom. A deep humming greeted her. In the shower the water rained down. The small room was filled with misty steam. James’s briefs lay on the floor, together with a small bodysuit, with a large yellow stain that caught her attention. She leaned against the wall and tugged at the shower curtain, there her men stood, her baby boy safely in the strong arms of her husband. James’s hair was plastered to his head, Harry’s wide eyes peeked over the shoulder of his father. She reached a hand and touched his small hand. “Ah, Harry, is mummy there? Good for us, son. I always forget to grab a towel when we take an emergency shower.” “Ah, another shit-show then?” Lily giggled as Harry clasped at her finger fiercely. “Oh, if you didn’t know better,"James said, sounding more proud than anything else, "you’d think he does it on purpose love, but yes, just like yesterday morning, he was up to his neck in it.”

#alight with happiness jily fest #day 2 The Doe-mestic moments #james potter #lily Evans #baby harry #jple #march microfics day 10 #touched #jily

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unleashed-fest · 11 months

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UNLEASHED! FEST: REVEALS!!!

Reveals are here! *screams* Unleashed! brought us 20(!!!) incredible works and we want to send the biggest thank you to everyone involved: our fantastic creators, who put their entire hearts into their works, their betas and cheerreaders, who worked their magic as always, and all the wonderful readers, who left comments and kudos. You all made working on this fest an absolute joy! Now go have a look at who made what, so we can all scream about it together!

🐾

🐾 ART

Feathered and Fabulous (Draco/Harry, digital art, T) by @getawayfox Draco runs a successful Instagram account for his pet peacock. Harry takes every opportunity to flirt.

how the hell... (Draco/Harry, digital art, G) by @the-houseryn Harry has no idea how a white highland cow got inside 12 Grimmauld Place, nor why it seems to have a strange affinity for the fancy French chocolates one of his admirers keeps sending him...

Quiet as a mouse (Ron/Viktor, digital art, G) by @pato-roldnart Based on this prompt: Hogwarts Fourth Year: While Ron is grateful for Pigwidgeon, he sometimes finds himself wistfully remembering the times he spent with 'Scabbers' -- before the reveal in Third Year, anyway. One such night, he's startled and wary to find a rat scampering around, until Viktor appears, looking for his escaped pet. They eventually bond over pets, grief, comfort, Quidditch, and many other things as they start to develop feelings for each other.

🐾 PODFIC

Because Cats by ICMezzo (Draco/Harry, 1.5-2hours, T) by Cailynwrites Harry has a cat, and Draco doesn’t. Then Draco has a cat, and Harry doesn’t. Then Harry has a cat again, but Draco doesn’t. Then Draco has a cat, but Harry—OMG HOW WILL IT END.

🐾 FIC & ART

Trevor the Escape Artist (Neville/Pansy, 2.9, G) by DrPansyParkinson, Ecologycreature Trevor the Master of Escape feels his reputation being ruined because a certain someone keeps successfully locating him and bringing him back to his owner. Trevor is often found in bathrooms because he likes humidity.

With Love in Her Luminous Eyes (Draco/Harry, 30k, T) by @starquestingfordrarry The Demiguise lived in Grimmauld Place, and she lived all alone.

🐾 FIC

Birds Behaving Badly (Draco/Harry, 10.5k, E) by @peachpety For eight years, Draco has been content living a quiet life of anonymity in Brighton, dodging pesky seagulls and enjoying the ephemeral boys of summer. And if these summer blokes just happen to resemble Harry Potter, it’s a mere coincidence—despite what his friends say. But when a repeat one-night stand challenges him to face his desires, Draco thinks he’s finally over his years-long crush. A seagull named Kevin thinks otherwise.

Charlie (Draco/Harry, 1.7k, T) by @kittycargo Harry's trying not to be jealous that Charlie's moved in with Draco.

Harry Potter And The Dubious Rescue Of His Ferrety Boyfriend (Draco/Harry, 8.8, T) by Animamundi Draco Malfoy always ends up getting bullied by other animals while in his Animagus form. Harry must rescue him again. Or must he?

It's Me or the Peacock (Draco/Harry, 4.5, T) by harrows They’ve been together for two years when Draco finally moves into Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Only, Harry didn’t know he’d be bringing a pet with him.

misty morning comes again (Draco/Ron, 4.5k, M) by @the-houseryn Every morning without snow on the ground or rain that turned the land into a slip and slide of mud and wet grass, Ron ran the property with his misfit herd of barnyard animals close behind him. The thrilling tease of watching Ron's solid, sweat-glistening body do its lap around the misty morning pond was just about the only thing that could get Draco willingly out of bed so soon after the summer sun rose. Barn chores and animal butts certainly weren't going to do it.

No capacity for feelings (Draco/Harry, 2.9k, T) by fast_brother Draco's Basilisk might or might not be depressed. Whatever the case, he would never ask Harry Potter for help.

Of Magical Beings Being - Magical (Draco/Harry, 30k, E) by @rockingrobin69Out of the blue, Potter's letter says: I need your help. And Draco, ever a fool, goes. Cue magical houses, fluffy Beings with a sweet tooth, mutual pining level: infinity, and truly outrageous amounts of tea.

Peacocks of the Bride(groom) (Draco/Harry, 7k, T) by apricitydays, TempestuousBlue The Big Day is here! Draco and Harry are finally getting hitched. Will the wedding be a smashing success or will peacock-induced chaos ensue? (It’s the latter, for sure)

Slithering up the garden path (Draco/Harry, 1.4k, G) by flightinflame Draco just wants to read in the garden. He's not sure why there are so many snakes around.

Sun Shower (Draco/Harry, 5.9k, T) by @moonmanatee Each afternoon, Harry and his cat lounge in their sitting room, make an elaborate snack, and then head out for a walk. When they run into a certain tall, pale-haired man and his scruffy dog, they find their routine shifting.

the strays (Draco/Harry, 13.8k, T) by @owl-of-fandom Draco befriends stray animals in his back garden, unknowing that one of them is actually an animagus.

Two cute foxes, one embarrassing rant (Harry/Fred/George, 1k, G) by HadrianPeverellBlack Fred and George needed a role of their own, even considering how they were Fred & George and not Fred and George. And, if no one had made the effort to recognize them, to distinguish them, they would have managed to be seen and noticed. At least that was his due to them. This didn't mean they wouldn't want to be appreciated for who they were.

Waiting for the Moon to Rise (Draco/Harry, 8.9, E) by @wolfpants When Harry and Draco move into Grimmauld Place straight out of Hogwarts, the last person they expect to find taking up residence is Bill ‘divorced, dishevelled, and dangerous’ Weasley. But what if their new, furry little problem is the help they need to finally bring them closer? Stranger things have happened, Draco supposes.

Wings and Slings (Draco/Harry, 24k, T) by @steampunkserpent27 After the war, Draco Malfoy decides to turn over a new leaf and in doing so, opens an animal sanctuary for sick and homeless magical creatures. Everything is going well, until he is given a feral herd of hippogriffs and has to ask for outside help to be able to get anywhere near them. Only, it's the very last person he would have asked for help from.

#unleashed! fest 2023 #reveals #masterlist #drarry #rare pair #ron/viktor #neville/pansy #draco/ron #harry/fred/george

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camillecrellin · 1 year

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Hcs for Misty pining after someone in secret, so like the usual fucked up Misty obsession love fest but she has to actually be subtle about it for one reason or another

Misty Quigley pining headcanons

Warnings: Stalking, Care homes, Cops.

A/N: Hope that this is okay. Thanks for requesting.

Okay so first of all Misty would have probably met you at the care home when you dropped off one of your parents.

She saw you from afar and decided to follow you into your room and introduce herself.

You were initially hesitant around Misty but slowly started to warm up when you saw how "nice" she was around the elderly patients. Especially your mom.

One day you invited her to go to the bar with you and a bunch of your friends and that's when she found out you were a cop. A detective to be more specific.

Since then, Misty had become more warry around you. Less revealing of her secrets, but she couldn't help but laugh every time you'd laugh or smile.

Misty would watch you from a distance. She knew your schedule down to the seconds.

Misty had hacked your Tinder account and knew when you set up dates and made sure to pay the waiter or someone else to sabotage it.

One day she saw you and asked how you were, and you explained your recent failure in dating and Misty was so sympathiec about it she bought you sympathy flowers with a hidden camera in.

And every time since then when you'd visit your parent, you'd invite Misty over for a cup of tea. She'd check the hidden cameras she had put around your house.

Whenever you asked about her life, she'd use her acting skills that Crystal taught her and bring up fake boyfriends and girlfriends that she had gone on failed dates with. Being careful that her stories didn't match up entirely with yours.

Every now and then in conversations about failed dates Misty would joke about how "We should just date each other instead." And add the fakest of laughs onto the end of it as she gazed into your eyes lovingly.

Misty would never let you go to her house in case you found out about her basement, but she would bring Caligula around to your house.

Ultimately Misty would try to be subtle in her protective ways, but we all know that despite how smart she is she's never subtle.

#yellowjackets x reader #misty quigley x reader #yellowjackets #misty quigley #yellowjackets headcanons #misty quigley headcanons #christina ricci x reader #misty quigley headcannons

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sitp-recs · 1 year

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Hi liv! I hope you’re having a great Friday! Do you have any recs for a “rainy romance” like something that may feature a lot of rain but is just cozy in essence. Think Little Compton Street maybe? Something that maybe one could read while listening to piano and rain sounds? Thanks for allllll that you do!!!!!

Hi anon, happy weekend! Oh I love this ask, as you know LCS is one of my all-time favorite fics and I really love the idea of a rainy, cozy love story to lose myself in. This got long enough so I’m also linking HP Drizzle Fest for more recs. I hope you enjoy, some fics are a bit melancholy but I still think they’re a great fit:

The Reason to Start Again by @phdmama (T, 2k)

The rain that’s been pouring down all day has finally tapered off, leaving the streets wet and a heavy mist hanging in the air. It’s warm and cosy inside the pub, and it’s been 362 days since Draco packed his bags and walked away.

Sky Full of Song by @writcraft (T, 2k)

Draco turns up at Harry's birthday party unexpectedly and Harry takes a leap of faith.

Petrichor by @tsauergrass (G, 2k)

After the war, Draco found himself uncontrollably drawn to the rain.

waltzing lights by @piarelei (T, 4k)

The rain is cold, the boat shaky and all that Draco can find comfort in is the warmth of Potter's presence. Or, Draco is a miserable sod and decides to take action.

Rainfall by Saras_Girl (T, 4k)

So what if Draco has a rain kink? Everyone likes something weird.

Twenty Minutes Till Free Fall by BelladonnaLee (T, 5k)

A night of rain. A bare-boned safe house. A clandestine meeting between a spy and his case officer. Being with Harry is like falling through the air—and Draco isn't sure he wants to stop.

Rain by Omi_Ohmy (NR, 5k)

Luna is getting married, and old friends meet up. It's too hot, and everything's changing for everyone except for Harry, who is still mooning after Draco.

A Little Understanding by disapparater (G, 6k)

Everybody needs good neighbours. During a storm, Harry turns to his newest neighbour for help.

Harmony (Left-Handed Melody Remix) by mindabbles (M, 6k)

He is the last person Draco was expecting, but then again, this is not a place Draco ever expected to be.

Howl by @tackytigerfic (M, 9k)

After an encounter with a vicious werewolf, Draco Malfoy wakes in a field hospital with a mangled shoulder, a furry little problem, and an inconvenient crush on Harry Potter. Potter, meanwhile, is still trying to save the world, only this time he wants Draco right there with him while he does it.

Impervius by ravenclawsquill (E, 11k)

Harry and Draco are working together on a case in the beautiful English Lake District. Or, it would be beautiful if only it would stop raining. Fortunately, Harry has an umbrella. Unfortunately, it's pink and frilly, and Draco would rather die than share it with him.

Voices From The Fog by @noeeon (E, 13k)

After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

Exiled by A_factorygirl_69 (E, 16k)

Draco is declared persona non grata by the Ministry after the War. Harry has been tasked with keeping an eye on him, ensuring he stays out of England.

Bound To You by agentmoppet (E, 21k)

Hag magic is capricious and unruly, and Harry and Draco are bound to stay by each other’s side until they can solve the riddle. In between long car trips, misty rain, and midnight star charts, they begin to understand each other.

Thunder by keyflight790 (E, 21k)

The storm will disappear; the rain will subside; but what's left in its wake will last forever. A story of love and loss, redemption and thunder.

The Isle of Discussion by @shealwaysreads (E, 22k)

Harry and Draco arrive at the shores of Loch Leven to record the magical history of the land. They’re friends now, but up there in the Highlands, amidst the trees and sky and that wild expanse of water their own past is more present than ever; a gap they still can’t bridge. Magic illuminates the truth, but it is Harry and Draco who have to speak it. Happily, it turns out that honesty is, in fact, the best policy.

Better To Burn Than To Fade Away by Ren (E, 23k)

Harry Potter is a legend in the world of broomstick racing. He's won almost every cup, trophy, and bowl – except for the historical London-Nome which has been on hiatus for the past several years. Now the London-Nome is starting again, and Harry will do anything to pull off one last big win.

War Wounds by SilentAuror (E, 30k)

Some wounds take longer to recover from than others.

To Vanish Into Something Better by @m0srael (E, 35k)

Harry Potter thought he could outrun the burden of infamy by isolating himself in the Muggle world. Draco Malfoy hasn’t been seen or heard from since his trial. Will a top-secret Ministry project, a beautiful garden, and a little heat carry them both home?

The July Tree by @oknowkiss (E, 51k)

Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail… nor well-meaning friends, nor questionable communication skills, nor seven years of hating each other’s guts can keep Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy from falling in love.

Nightcall by Femme and noeon (E, 116k)

A hideously mauled corpse is found sprawled across the paving stones of Brick Lane in the East End of London. Inspector Harry Potter--widely believed to be the lead candidate for next Deputy Head Auror--is called in to investigate a possible magical crime. To make matters worse, his occasional lover and former school-nemesis, Viscount Draco Malfoy, now billing himself as a consulting criminologist, shows up at the crime scene to aid in the investigation of the suspicious death.

Taking Chances by @gracerene (E, 135k)

After the war, Draco disappeared and started over in America, vowing never to return to Great Britain and the fraught past he left behind. Unfortunately, when his mates convince him to sign up for an exchange programme for the last year of their Auror Training, Draco learns that he doesn't have much of a choice in the matter.

Artwork:

in my solitude comes our rain by @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm

Rain by @istehlurvz

Rain of Fate by @lilbeanz

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #rainy romance ☔️

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drarryspecificrecsdaily · 11 months

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2023.10.23

Complete fics posted on AO3 this day

1. Of Firewhiskey and Stupid Speeches by @my-castles-crumbling [T, 1k]

►Draco and Harry find comfort in each other the night before the first anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts.

---

Fest/Exchange

1. A Competitive Cooperation by Anonymous [T, 20k]

►When Harry quit the Aurors to become an architect, he never expected to have another encounter with Draco Malfoy. The universe, however, seems to love to pit them against one another, this time with a Ministry contract on the line. Can they learn to work together, or will the entire project go up in flames? ★ Harry/Draco Career Fair 2023 | @hd-fan-fair

2. The Moon on a String by amstarsll [E, 7k]

►"Do whatever you want with me," Harry told Draco in a sprawling pool of saltwater, a dome of shimmering light and warmth protecting them from the misty rain above, and Draco smiled, slow and dangerous. ★ HD Sudsfest Lite 2023 | @hdsudsfest

3. wise men say... by @unlikecharlie [G, 2k]

►Prompt: Three times drarry acted like a couple, and one time they actually were one ★ Discord Cultober Fics

#drarry #drarry fanfic #drarry fic rec #harry potter #draco malfoy #daily list #2023 #2023.10

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stardust-arcade · 3 months

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Everyone seems to be chilling. Blackstar coming in from his shift at Fall fest. The Arcade of course getting a tad more quiet. Mostly cuz everyone knows they will be closing soon except for some theater performances. Resulting in the larger arcade and other areas being fenced off with dividers, or closing their doors. But loudly through the song speakers comes an intercom announcement.

Animatronic employees of the arcade. We ask that you go towards the front entrance.

Black Star who of course had just gotten there. Grumbles as he stops in his movements. Looking around before spotting a human employee. Derek. Who seems just as pissed about life. Other than the standard arcade employee clothing. He has a little pin that says animatronic handler. Which really just means he's a peacekeeper between the animatronics, and certain customers. But unfortunately no one has thought of a better name.

Black Star: What are you calling everybody to the front for?

Derek: New fella. That's all I know.

Black Star: And I'm assuming you're only here because you're forced to?

Derek: Ha! You guessed it. I would rather wait for a radio call then sit out here. But I got to do those outdated shenanigans. I don't even think handlers need to do these types of introductions anymore, It's stupid.

Black Star: I can agree with you there. We're going to reintroduce ourselves later anyways with those morning announcement things.

Derek: I suppose it's because not everybody will be there for the mornings. People still think you animatronics are scary and a fight between you guys is scarier. I have a feeling once we figure out what police are going to do if a scuffle breaks out, I'll be out of a job.

Black Star: Hahaha! I suppose that is true. Not that I think any of you can do anything nowadays.

Derek: Yep. I'm not gonna jump in between you fellas to save your skins. Especially when mine would be gone!

Black Star: Yah. I suppose it's similar to that sort of police presence thing.

Derek: I suppose so. Wish the police could do it for me though.

Black Star: Yah. Well here comes the rest.

The others start to show up at the entrance. Most of them with faces of disgruntlement. Although sun seems to have thrown on a smile. Moon appears rather shy. Eclipse as always is curious. Nova is of course separated from the group. Holding a dastardly smile and proper position the entire time though.

Planet: What did you call us out here for? I-

Derek: A new friend. Look I don't like it either planet, So can you just deal with it for today.

Planet: Meerrggg!

Eclipse: New friend!?

Derek: Yes new friend, if they show up anytime soon. They were already late, They told me they would be here!

Sun: Oh I'm sure it's fine Derek. Let them take their time. New places are always scary.

Derek: You be in my position then.

Sun: No.

Derek: Ha. Ha. Such a nice guy.

Finally the front door is open. Everyone looking towards the entrance with intrigue. Except for Derek and Blackstar.

Misty: Um Helo. I am hoping this is the right arcade. This is stardust Arcade right?

Derek: This is stardust arcade. You are misty right?

Misty: And I assume you are Derek. Dear God I'm so happy we finally found this place.

Derek: How did you even lose this place? It's the only faz location in miles.

Black Star: Except for Fall fest.

Derek: Yeah but that things obviously not an arcade.

Comet: Well actually. Misty here was just searching arcade. And apparently you have quite a bit of competition!

Next to Misty comes in another animatronic. They are nearly the same size as her. Which is a bit shorter than the average human. They're entirety of their pallet seems a bit pale. Being mostly white, pink, purple and blue pale colors. Except for their face which is a dazzling bright blue. They look nothing like the other DCAs. Much more resembling some sort of dinosaur or cartoonistic lizard. Their face being the only thing that sells them as a DCA looking type. They're double sets of rays spinning briefly as they observe everyone around them. Some spinier rays, That seem to be held on a wire sway stiffly behind them.

Misty: Yes, well, um. Let these introductions out of the way before I make this any worse. This is comet. His family sent him away to get a job, and he wants to work at the roller rink here.

Comet: Yep! And it's grand to meet you all!

Derek: Yep. Great to meet you too. This is Sun, Moon, Planet, Eclipse, and Nova. Blackstar also lives here but he's not an employee anymore. You'll also be seeing this red fella with a vest on. He's Blood Moon. He's only here cuz this place is a shitshow, And these guys are at each other's necks.

Sun: Language!

Derek: I'm not on the daycare, And all the customers are in the theater watching Scooby-Doo.

Eclipse: No, They wanted princess bride.

Derek: ... There's no kids in there though right?

Eclipse: They picked the movie.

Derek: Dear God I hope those parents realize what the fuck they're doing.

Sun: Language!!

Derek: Leave me alone Sun, dear God. Whatever. Say hi to each other, so I can go back to eat nachos in the office!

Misty: But shouldn't we stick around to make sure they're all okay?

Derek: That's an old dumb rule, and every animatronic here agrees with me. So can you guys please-

Nova: Hello I am Nova. Nice to meet you comet.

Comet: Oh! Well it's nice to meet you Dr mysterious.

Nova: Don't call me that. Anyways I'll see you later, or never, I don't really care.

Comet: Well, a, goodbye... He doesn't seem nice.

Planet: He isn't. Don't trust him. I'm Planet by the way. I mostly run the arcade. As long as you don't piss me off we'll be fine.

Comet: How do I piss you off?

Planet: Are you really going to ask that question?

Sun: Trust me, buddy. You don't want to piss her off. I'm Sun by the way! Your friendly daycare attendant! I am so happy to meet you!

Comet: Well nice to meet you too Sun! Although could I refer to you as Sundrop or daytime or something. My parents got the same name.

Sun: Oh... Yah! How about you refer to me as sunlight?

Comet: Works for me. I'm assuming your moon.

Moon: Yes. I am Moon. Although if you need to call me something like moonlight that's fine.

Comet: Thank ya. It just feels weird. I'm assuming you also run the daycare?

Moon: Yes. Although it is more so my side employment. I am mainly the one that you will be seeing at parts and service.

Comet: Ah! A techno man I see! Well, I'll be sure to greet you both in all the places I see ya!

Black Star: Yah. Like Derek said I'm Black Star. I used to work in the theater. My brother Eclipse has taken that over fully though.

Eclipse: Yah! I'm Eclipse! Hello new friend!

Comet: Well hello there clips! You seem like quite a fun fellow!

Eclipse: I am fun!

Comet: Well that's nice to know. And black stars your brother right?

Eclipse: Yes! Bestest brother!

Comet: Sure sounds like it! But he don't work here no more?

Eclipse: No. But we still play later!

Black Star: Yah. I work at this amusement park a little ways away. Currently working as a mechanic.

Comet: Ah! I suppose it's a wonderful dream job!

Sun: He actually should probably stay to the theater. Being old AI and all. Surprised they haven't put him in one of the scare attractions.

Black Star: Oh fuck off.

Comet: Ohhh. Some rivalry it seems. I suppose this is the tearing each other apart thing.

Moon: It's just some disagreements that we're trying to, see eye to eye on.

Comet: Ha! Yah! I think it's the silliest thing. Those AI prejudices are stupid. I mean I'm a new and my mom and dad are just old ones. Does that make me better than them? I don't think so. They can sure play a record better than I can.

Sun: Well that's an interesting... History.

Planet: You losing your smile~.

Eclipse: New friends stay with us!? Yes? Yes!

Comet: I'm not picking nobody's side. I'm supposed to be friends with everyone, not some group. I still want to play though! Got a wicked arcade.

Planet: Yes. It is quite a collection.

Moon: Where are you working again?

Comet: I'm working at roller rink! Although I'll be playing my DJ too.

Black Star: DJ?

Planet: Oh they're going to finally put someone in that booth? I always wondered if anyone was going to use those.

Comet: Oh are you telling me the soundboard's been abandoned!? No, no, that can't do! I bet it's all wackified by misuse.

Moon: Well I'm sure we can show you where the DJ station is and the roller rink. It's right across from the theater.

Eclipse: Your closest to me!

Comet: It appears I am buddy! Perhaps I can sneak into a show or two when I got down time.

Eclipse: Yes! I like that idea.

Black Star: Well. I suppose let's give you the tour.

Derek: And there's my cue to leave. I'm enjoying my nachos. If planet starts punching this shit out of him give me a call. I'll use my laser eyes on her.

Misty: Wait, Wait, aren't we supposed to do something more? Stay with them for the tour?

Derek: You know what Misty. How about you chill with me in the office. I got some real training to give you.

Misty: But the others?-

Derek: Eclipse!

Eclipse: Yes?

Derek: Hold planet back if she starts getting pissed.

Eclipse: Ok!

Derek: Their, potential situation solved.

Misty: But what if he gets angry?!

Derek: Black Stars right there. Plus Eclipse doesn't tear anyone apart. He just chases them off the property. They'll be fine. Now come on shy. Let me tell you how robots really want to be treated.

Comet: Bye Misty!... I give kudos to the Derek guy, I like him.

Black Star: Yeah he's great.

Sun: For some of you.

Moon: Sun just because you don't like the fact that Derek swears like a sailor, and doesn't give a shit about the world. Doesn't mean you have a good reason to hate him.

Sun: Moon, I'm giving you a pass.

Planet: Let's just get this tour over.

Comet: Agreed! You all making this sour. Let's have some fun!

Eclipse: Yah!

Planet: ..... Bets on what his programmed age is?

Black Star: Upper teens?

Moon: He's probably just a playful adult.

Sun: I'm guessing 16.

Planet: I'm thinking he's probably the same age as eclipse. Whatever age they are.

Black Star: Well let's just pray that they make each other better instead of destructive.

Sun: That is one thing we can all agree to.

#stardust arcade #arcade project #fnaf daycare au #dca au #fnaf dca au #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sb dca #dca oc #fnaf daycare attendant au #daycare attendant fnaf

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