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tunastime · 9 months

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Close to the Heart

Mornings are made for reflection. Mornings are also made for sleeping in. Tired, but unable to shut his eyes, Tom does only one of those, it seems. or, in a little slice of a world far from the one he came from, Tom finds comfort in silence, and comfort in the two people he cares about the most.

some bangarry in honor of the yogship bracket (and because someone (@shepscapades) decided to throw me into the deep-end of yogscast and i had to learn how to swim) <3 it's been an honor to get to learn them, and there might be more where this came from :3c

(words: 3701)

(read it on ao3!)

There was something in the silence that was good. It wasn't true silence—or it was never just silence. There was always something else there, something to add warmth to the stillness of sound—or the near stillness of it. Something to add itself to the quiet, which didn't make it no longer quiet. Just less quiet. A tick above the pitch of silence. He remembers what true silence feels like. Space is true silence, when the engines quiet and the shuttle drifts through lightless-ness, suspended in the absence of gravity. Hallways are silent, and so are test chambers, chambers turned rooms, turned into holding cells, still quiet, even with the dull hum-buzz of electric lightning or air conditioning. It became its own sort of claustrophobic silence, but not like the silence of nighttime. That wasn't quiet at all, and it's just now he liked it. The silence was full of small noise, not enough to breach, but enough to be noticed. Like now, as a warm, comfortable, safe body next to him shifts a little closer, presses their face a little harder against the soft outside of his arm. The sigh that emits is sleepy and full sounding, breathing out over the crest of his shoulder with a small huff.

Ben keeps himself close, but sprawled out, taking up as much of his side of the bed as he can. His body is half turned toward Tom, half, like his opposite shoulder, up, like he had started to turn but didn't get that far. He breathes soundly against his shoulder, warm and even. Who would've thought that the sound of breathing, of sniffling, of snoring, would be such a comfort.

To his other side, his right, another rests, curled away. His back fits into the space of his side, each notch of his spine perfectly fitting to the curve of him. His arm is trapped against the mattress, pinned under the slot of Harry's neck. Harry's hand clasps firmly, even in sleep, even as he's curled himself tightly over one knee, brought to his chest, even as his face contorts into a frown as he sleeps, over his wrist. Harry's breathing tickles the inside of his arm, but he can faintly feel his pulse against the space right before his elbow.

Despite being effectively pinned in place, there's something of a comfort to it, to the others finding safety in his presence. He finds ease in the way Ben sprawls into him and the way Harry uncurls himself just a bit when he's tucked close. The way Ben leans his tired weight into his shoulder and the way that Harry's sleepy fingers trace out the palm of his hand, down to the fingertip. It's not morning just yet, but there's a dull, blue-grey light filtering in through the window. He'll take the dregs of sleep where he can get them. And he does.

When he finally wakes, the pins and needles have gone from his arm, and there's a new, comfortable weight over him. He blinks, taking in the warm light of the morning as it cuts through the door to the porch. He can see the crown of Harry's head, the hair brushed away from his face. He's still perfectly tucked into Tom's side, but rests with his head against his shoulder. His hand winds around Tom's—he can feel Harry trace out his knuckles even as he stirs awake. Ben is facedown, arm strewn across Tom's chest. His hand curls against Harry's shoulder blade, as if he had spent time tracing the bone out under his hand. Tom squeezes the fingers he manages to catch in his hand, listening to the noise of protest that Harry makes as he's interrupted in his tracing. When he returns to it, feather-light against his skin, he's watching the pricks of light form.

Tom cranes his neck, pressing his face into Harry's hair, and he smells a bit like sawdust. Something in his chest squeezes unbearably tight around his heart and he breathes out into Harry’s hair to try and loosen it. Instead he gets a tired laugh that peters out into a hum.

After a moment of lying there, Harry drags himself up, dislodging himself from where he had tucked himself close to Tom. He rolls, leaning on one elbow, still wedged between Tom’s side and his arm, but propped up, now. He smiles tiredly at Tom, his half-lidded eyes just a touch far away. He doesn’t say anything, but his expression carries a weight of its own.

Tom’s hand finds the smooth shape of the crook of his elbow, settling his palm there, thumb tracing the inside of his arm. The smile on Harry’s face grows, until he’s laughing under his breath, his shoulders shaking.

“Gettin’ sentimental in your old age, Tom?” Harry mumbles. Tom can’t argue—he scrunches his face up, and Harry laughs again. Tom watches, a bit absentmindedly, a bit self-indulgently, the line of his neck as Harry swallows down the last bit of a laugh, and as Harry furrows his eyebrows just a little, as if to ask some ludicrous question that he won’t say. Tom’s hand drags up his arm, skips over his shoulder. It finds the back of his neck, fingers twisting in his dark hair.

It’s Harry who leans first, closing the space between them until there’s barely an inch that isn’t touching. He presses their lips together, and though it’s gentle, it’s anything but hesitant. He kisses him the way he does most things, with conviction, and want, and will, and not wholly unconfident in himself but certainly the smallest bit shy, despite the aforementioned conviction and want and will. Harry runs his hand up Tom’s arm, and though nobody sees, he feels his skin prickle with energy, and he stamps down a laugh in his throat at the last second. He’s good at that—holding back a big, giddy wave of laughter until he can really let it out, so he won’t ruin such a lovely moment.

Harry smiles first, and when Tom feels it, when he tries to not kiss his teeth, when he finally pulls back to see, it feels like the world's most addicting punch to the gut. His eyes are half-open again when Tom finally gets a good look at him, a smile still tugging at his mouth. Tom traces his thumb down the side of his jaw, where it meets his ear.

From beside Tom, after a moment, comes a small noise of protest. When he looks over, Ben is blinking back sleep, a frown curving his mouth down. His eyebrows are furrowed together, making a crease that Tom nearly reaches over to smooth out. He instead curls his arm around Ben’s shoulders, running his hand up his spine and over the back of his neck. His fingers comb through the hair at the base of his skull.

At the same time, Harry leans over Tom’s chest, stretching out and over to plant a dramatic kiss to the side of Ben’s head. He lingers there, forehead pressed to Ben’s temple as Ben startles, a laugh bubbling up through his chest.

“That’s more like it,” Ben says, laugh petering out as he speaks. It still lingers in the way he smiles as he leans back against Harry for a moment. Harry scoffs, and though his eye-roll isn’t visible, Tom can put his money on it being implied. He doesn’t say anything, though, and Ben seems to bask in the moment of contact, looking thoroughly pleased with himself. As Ben leans away from him, Harry buries his face in the side of Tom’s neck, letting out a profound sigh. Ben leans as much as Tom pulls him forward to kiss him properly.

There’s something different about kissing him, something that feels like he’s always waited so long to do, something that feels like tying a loose end. He smooths his fingers down the back of his neck, as if he were feeling out the spaces of Ben’s spine. It feels safe, it feels secure, and it feels a little like Ben’s elbow is digging into his ribcage and feels a bit like the shiver Ben shakes out when Tom’s hand brushes the side of his neck, but mostly, it feels like love. And a lot of it.

Ben mumbles something as he kisses the side of Tom’s mouth. Tom hums, but only gets halfway through his question before Ben laughs. When Ben pulls away, he stays with his forehead pressed to Tom’s. A smile plays on his face as he looks at him, and it must be something about the light of the room or how close he is, enough that their noses bump together, that makes him look so much younger. Maybe his features blur together, or maybe Tom’s eyes just really aren’t that good without his glasses, but he finds the breath too stuck in his throat to let out.

Ben laughs again, and for a moment, Tom feels everything settle around him, everything adjusts into place, like the world isn’t weird and like they aren’t stressed and tired. It’s good, it’s better than good, it’s sweet and safe and secure. Ben’s laugh fills a space previously cold in his chest like he’s pressed himself into that space. Tom squeezes the back of his neck, letting his eyes shut for a moment, a precious second in time, where it seems to stand still.

From the column of his neck, Harry laughs warmly. Ben draws back from Tom after a moment, shifting so his elbow isn’t pressing into his sternum. He makes a questioning noise, reminiscent of a scoff, just something small and breathy in his chest as Tom’s hand lingers on his neck. Tom watches as Ben looks down his neck, away from the spread of gold freckles over his cheeks, away from him, and to Harry, breathing warmly into his neck. Tom runs his fingers over Harry’s back, following the dip of his spine. Though Ben’s arm doesn’t come back to Tom’s chest, he does lean, planting a hand behind Harry. Tom watches him lean forward, feels him settle his weight against his side, and sees as he quickly kisses the high of Harry’s shoulder. From his neck, where he can’t see him, Tom hears Harry make a startled noise. He turns his head; Tom feels him press a little closer before he peels away with a tangible reluctance. He sits up, scrubbing at his eyes, pushing his hair away from his face. Ben shuffles back. The smile on his face is entirely directed at the tired, confused look Harry is shooting back at him. Tom splays his fingers over the small of Harry’s back as it smooths down his spine. Ben’s hand still holds his. With his other hand, he reaches out to Harry, hand cupping his cheek. Harry’s face doesn’t change, even as Ben coos at him, even as he leans forward to kiss the bridge of his nose. Harry startles with what sounds almost like a chuff, jerking back, held still only by the hand on the base of his spine. Ben laughs. Harry tips his face into his hand, grumbling like he’s cursing, until Ben leans forward to kiss him square on the mouth.

Tom visibly sees Harry tense and relax, hand reaching across Tom to latch onto Ben’s shoulder. He spiders his way across it, smoothing his thumb over the fabric. Tom feels Ben squeeze his hand. He runs his thumb over the ridges of his knuckles, and when Ben pulls away from Harry, turning to glance at him, he grins. His face is flushed across his cheeks, pink at the tip of his nose, and Harry’s no better. He’s worse, even, leaning into Ben’s temple, hand falling to the inside of Ben’s elbow. Ben laughs a little, leaning back into him as much as he can. Tom drags his hand over the small dip of Harry’s back. He wonders, just for a moment, what exactly he might be thinking, what all this might be like for him. Ben kisses between his eyes again, his cheek, pulling a face as Harry squirms away from him.

Harry lies back down, draping himself over Tom’s stomach, groaning in protest. Tom runs his hand absently over his back as he tries to hold in a quiet laugh, to keep Harry comfortable where he lies. Ben sighs, tsks, face morphing as he looks over at Tom, softening around his eyes, mouth curving into a frown—and a pitying one at that. He runs his hand over the back of Harry’s head, burying it in his hair. Harry makes a tired noise in response, but doesn’t lift his head.

“Right,” Ben laughs. “Okay.”

“Legs aren’t working,” Harry says, muffled from where he lies face down.

“Not working?” Tom asks.

“Nope. Ben’ll have to carry me.”

“Wha—” Ben snorts, leaning back a bit on his free hand. “And why’s that?”

“You took him out, Ben!” Tom starts, hand pausing on the center of his back. Harry interrupts with a drawn out, tired noise. Tom resumes his tracing. Ben meets his eye, looking between him and Harry laid out across him.

“Did not—!”

“Fucks sake,” Harry drawls, drawing out the vowels. Ben shakes his head.

“I am not carrying you, Harry.”

Tom laughs again. It shakes Harry from where he rests, but doesn’t seem to draw any complaints from him. Smoothing the flat of his palm against the center of his back, Tom shifts to sit up. Harry doesn’t sit with him, but instead falls from sternum to stomach to lap, until he’s draped himself over his knees. Harry’s hand shoots out, searching blindly in front of him as he lies over Tom’s legs, trying to find any point of contact with Ben in front of him. He’s unsuccessful, though, as Ben worms back out of reach, giggling to himself. Tom takes up the task of raking his fingers through Harry’s hair, feeling him sag as he relaxes again. In about thirty minutes, Tom won’t be able to do this anymore—Harry’ll be back to his usual self, much less pliant and much more annoying. Tom’s heart swells with affection. Ben glances over from where he stands at the bedside. He sweeps his arms over his head, eyes screwing shut as he stretches, bends this way and that to work out the kinks in his spine. He raises an eyebrow as he settles, glancing down at Harry. Tom shrugs.

“Mrgh,” Harry complains, barely a word at all. Tom snorts.

“Yeah?”

“Mm.”

Sighing, Tom prods Harry’s ribs. Harry jolts, squirming away from the ticklish spot and further off Tom’s legs. He lies partially across his side of the bed, eyes half open, looking almost defeated alongside the pathetic, fake sob he whines out. As Tom stretches, climbing off the side of the bed, his eyes follow.

After a moment of standing at the bedside, Tom sighs, low and deep in his chest. He shuffles over to the opposite side. There, he meets one of the cats, still dozing on Harry’s cold pillow, and Harry’s shin, as his legs are thrown across his side of the bed. He gives it a firm pat before he stands there, arms open.

Harry squints up at him.

“What?”

“Come on.”

“Seriously?” Harry says, suddenly a touch more alert than he was previously. He sits up on his elbows.

“You wanted to,” Tom prompts.

“Well, I didn’t mean it,” Harry backpedals. The pale stretch of skin up his neck is turning pink.

“So you don’t want me to,” Tom asks, drawing back. His hands sit between them, half open, half welcoming him forward and half pulling away. A lazy smile worms onto his face, eyebrows raised expectantly. A floaty, fuzzy feeling roots around in his chest, in the pit of his stomach, watching the uncharacteristic flush grow on Harry’s face. Ben leans against the banister of the stairs, watching with his chin in his hand. Harry shoots him an icy look, but the expression melts as soon as it freezes. Looking back to Tom, he deflates.

“Auww, fuck,” he sighs, scrunching up his face. If Tom has any less common sense he might be tempted to call it a pout. “I didn’t say that…”

Tom holds out his arms, waving him over. With a start, Harry wades over through the rumpled comforters, his initial surprise shifting into something much more self-satisfied as he meets Tom. Tom scoops him into his arms, feeling Harry hook both of his arms around his neck. One of Tom’s hands curls around his hip, Harry’s back resting in the crook of his arm, where the other rests under his knees. Harry leans his forehead against his temple, slouching to nose at his cheek, humming something about how he didn’t have to, but that soon morphs into how he always takes such good care of him, that it’s the best, or maybe that he's the best. Tom tries to crane his neck to plant a kiss on any open spot he can, but finds none as Harry jerks away from him, pressing his face to his shoulder, twisting himself in his arms. Tom laughs again, and so does Ben from the banister as Tom wanders over.

“Proud of yourself?” Ben asks, affection flooding his voice, despite the roll of his eyes. He runs his hand over Harry’s knee and down to his ankle, giving it a squeeze before letting go.

“Maybe,” Harry says from where his face is buried. He lifts it for a moment to presumably glare at Ben, but his voice sounds too full of a smile to really mean anything. “Fuck off.”

Ben sticks his tongue out.

“Please, boys,” Tom starts. Harry grumbles, cutting him off as he tries to make his home in the side of Tom’s neck a little more comfortable. Tom shifts him in his arms as he wanders to the stairs. “You’re both unbelievable.”

Ben laughs at the same time that Harry huffs. Neither of them are particularly heavy. Well, Harry isn’t heavy, he’s just awkward and tall, and Ben isn’t heavy, he just goes completely dead-weight, and there’s no way Tom could carry either of them much more than twenty minutes without needing to switch how he was lifting. He wasn’t exactly made to carry anyone. He puts the thought aside for now, as much as it makes him laugh to entertain the thought of lifting them both.

“Ben,” he says, leaning his head to him. “You mind putting the kettle on?”

“On it,” Ben says. The infectious smile that lingers on his face is back, and he must shoot one at Harry, too, because Tom feels him sigh against his neck, feels him get a little heavier. He soothes his thumb over the divot of his hip, finding a strip of exposed skin. He’s still sleep-warm, clinging to Tom’s neck, dozing off again most likely. Tom takes the stairs slowly, making sure not to jostle him too much.

As he reaches the final step, he moves them both toward the kitchen table. Ben’s already at the stove-top, putting a kettle with chipping paint on the stove, alongside a tin coffee pot. With his foot, Tom pulls out one of the chairs, sinking to set Harry into it. Harry goes, a touch unwillingly, leaning back until his legs stretch out under the table. He sighs.

“Normally you’re the sleepy one, Tom. You’ve gone and rubbed off on me, what the fuck.”

“Not my fault you came in late last night,” Tom argues. He takes down three mugs, lining them up on the counter beside the stove. Ben nods his thanks. “That’s on you.”

Harry scuffs, sighing, but leaves it at that.

Tom lingers at Ben’s side as he starts breakfast. They work in tandem, as if tethered, Tom watching Ben’s hands move as he slices bread, as he finds the tin of sugar, as he searches for a spoon that Tom hands him instead. He laughs, scrunching up his nose, and Tom smiles, warm and full. He leans into him after a second, as Ben lifts the kettle off the stove and leans back into him, laughing low and to himself. Tom kisses the side of his head. His chest feels full up through his lungs with affection, and his body tired and heavy with it, too—though he would put money on it being sleep that still lingered behind it all. From the kitchen table, he hears Harry hum to himself. Tom glances over from where he rests against Ben’s shoulder.

“Look at you two lovebirds,” he says, leaning on his hand. His mouth curves into a smile when Tom meets his eye. Though Ben declines to comment, aside from a soft huff that only Tom catches, Tom sighs, a touch dramatically, against Ben’s cheek, earning another laugh from Ben in his direction.

The rest of the morning moves in relative silence, as it often does. Aside from the playfulness, and the genuineness that hides behind it, most of their language is in silence, like it often was. Ben pours two cups of tea, adds sugar to black coffee. Tom sets a cup of coffee in front of Harry and leans to kiss the side of his head. From his spot at the table, Harry flushes, even now, even after so much time of being kissed, being held, and being loved. It always seemed to catch him a little by surprise, even with his bravado. Ben passes Tom a cup of tea, keeping it warm in the cradle of his hands. Tom smiles, as he often does, more often than not, as he takes it, sitting across from Harry at the table. And finally, Ben joins them, poking Tom’s shin with his foot, shutting his eyes as he takes a long sip of hot tea. They wait for the toaster, they sit in silence and drink, and they glance through the ice crusted on the window. Inside is warm, safe, and loved. Inside is home. Inside is where Tom keeps a special sort of silence close to the heart, where it belongs, and where it can settle, understood.

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auranova26 · 9 months

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Donovan Baine, Dhylec, and Anita

Quite a mouthful, but this trio is pretty connected, so they are gonna relatively be put together. Donovan will take the bulk of this since there is actually quite a lot to his backstory. First of all, his render!

Now to talk a bit about changes. So first off, one thing I never liked about his official design was the fact his top was skintight: It just didn't look right. I was down for the aesthetic idea of a Buddhist monk that he had going, so I kept that. However, his top is now drawn in a way that his clothing would actually flow and wrap around his body. The big thing you might have noticed is the new garment he wears to cover his legs. That there is known as a longyi, a clothing piece worn by the people of Myanmar. The reason I chose that was because I wanted to pick a country of origin for him in Cryas Darkstalkers since in the original timeline, he never had a specific country of origin. However, he always gave the vibe of being a SEA. As I researched around, Myanmar caught my eye for being a country where Buddhism was a prominent religion there and for the fascinating longyi. In Cryas Darkstalkers, Donovan is Myanmarese.

So, with a country of origin and a nationality, does that mean he has a birth date? Why yes indeed he does in this mythos. Donovan was born in a village on March 3rd, 1949. This combines the release of Night Warriors: Darkstalkers' Revenge/Vampire Hunter: Darkstalkers' Revenge in Japan in the arcade (March 3rd, 1995) and the birth of Hideyuki Kikuchi (September 25th, 1949), author of Vampire Hunter D.

With him being a dhampir, that means he was conceived by a human and vampire. In Cryas Darkstalkers, his parents actually have names! His mother is a human known as Nandar with his father being a vampire known as Dragomir Baine. Now in the original timeline, it seems to imply his father was not around when he was being raised by his mother, which have some rather unpleasant implications. Not in this mythos.

Story time!

Now originally, Dragomir hailed from the lands of Maximoff in Makai serving as a warrior. However, after Demitri's failed coup and surviving the battle, life for vampires was not pleasant. While many did what they could to survive and live, Dragomir had enough. Aware of the Gate, he made the dangerous journey towards the Gate in order to escape from the turmoil he faced continuing to live in Makai. Now on Earth, he tried to figure out what to do from here. As he traveled the lands, he would eventually wind up deep in the rural areas of Myanmar. One day, as he was looking for blood to sustain himself, he happened to catch sight of woman that caught his full attention. He was bewitched by her looks and felt something in his heart of hearts. After thinking, he made the choice to approach this woman, after doing certain things to make himself look a bit more human. Overtime, they would get along and eventually marry. On that fateful day in March, they conceived a son, whom they named Donovan.

Life for the Baine family was very modest, but fulfilling as they enjoyed one another's company. Dragomir felt content in life with having a loving wife that he wanted to be with and a son that symbolized their deep bond. Nandar was also quite happy that Dragomir showed himself to not only be quite strong and handsome but was a dedicated man who always did what he could for her and Donovan. Not only that, but Dragomir was also respected by the people in the village for his honest and modest demeanor. Dragomir was not above being firm, but never raised his voice or hand to his son or wife. In all, it was a happy family life. However, neither his wife nor son were aware of his true origins as a vampire and thus their son being a hybrid. Many a times, he thought about coming clean to them as it could be a potential danger of Donovan is not made aware. However, he was fearful of them rejecting him. He was deathly afraid of losing the only people that gave his life meaning and purpose.

Before he could tell them, one fateful day in 1957 as he made a trek to the nearby village to get some supplies for his family, he vanished without a trace. Nandar and Donovan panicked and eventually their village had men search as far as they could. The only thing they ever found was bit of clothes, draped in blood. Nandar and Donovan were devastated. As they tried for days to pick up the pieces in their lives and hearts, fate would deal the Baine family another cruel hand. On the night of November 7th, 1957, a Blood Moon occurred over the lands of Myanmar. Donovan shook in his sleep as he began to have an intense nightmare. Hearing all sorts of horrendous, blood curdling sounds, he screamed in terror, desperate to get away from these sounds. Eventually, he awoke but in the middle of the village at night. As he got his bearings, he saw a horrid sight: mutilated corpses as far as he could see. Mortified by what he was witnessing, he cried in terror and tried to make his was back home for his mother. However, he froze as he saw his mother... on the floor dead. Blood running from her lacerated body, he fell down emotionally dead. As he put his hands to his face, he felt something cold: blood on his hands. It was then as he really took a good look at himself, he realized what happened. He killed everyone... his neighbors, his friends... his mother. As all these emotions welled up at the gravity of the situation, he screamed a blood curdling scream of terror and wailed with a deep sorrow over what he had done. Eventually, he just sat there motionless has he couldn't scream anymore and cried himself dry of tears and emotion. In due time, a man found him as he heard the wails and screams while out on a trek. No ordinary man though as he was also a hybrid. He felt for the young child, and after coercing him, managed to bring the silent but compliant Donovan with him back to where he lived: a village deep in the woods where Darkstalkers lived.

For a decade, Donovan lived among the people of this hidden village. While its population was that of Darkstalkers and hybrids, there was a monastery of Buddhist humans who showed no malice towards these people. If anything, they showed compassion and helped guide the people with the teachings of Buddhism. Donovan kept to himself, barely emoting, and just seemed to only survive more than live. He was still traumatized by that night and the death of Nandar by his hands. But something else also ate away at his mind: his father. As the people found out he had the blood of a vampire as well, that meant his father was a vampire. Why did he say nothing about this? What was his intentions with him and especially his mother? Were they only pawns to him for something heinous? No... he was always kind and respectful. He loved them... and that is what hurt and confused young Donovan. What happened that night was the works of a monster. The blood of a monster flowed through his body all because of his father... but his father was no monster. He couldn't make heads or tails of anything, his mind always tormented by that night, by his mother's mutilated body, his tainted blood, and his father.

The adults and monks tried to help Donovan as he grew. Attempts were made to teach him peace and enlightenment through the ways of Buddhism. Donovan went along without protest. If anything, maybe this could help find a way to make sense of everything and find some peace. While he showed discipline in taking the lessons to heart and dedicating himself to Buddhism, his mind would still be uneasy, like ripples in a lake. As he continued to practice and learn, one thing did catch his attention. Stories of this deity who roamed the lands known as Nǚ Jì Sī and her servant, Guì Zi Shǒu. Tales of Nǚ Jì Sī's exploits of heroism towards the people of the lands far and wide. Ridding the world of the scourge. These tales seemed to strike a chord with Donovan, eliciting some reactions from him. Thoughts would circulate between his studies in Buddhism and the stories of Nǚ Jì Sī. When he was 18, he made a decision. He would go out and journey to follow in the footsteps of his hero. He would seek to bring peace to himself, repent his sins by saving the people from the monsters and evil of the world. From then, he set out on his long journey of repentance.

Donovan would return back to the village after a six year journey. Much had happened in that time as he not only honed his skills as a warrior, but even met the fabled Nǚ Jì Sī and Guì Zi Shǒu. As it turns out, the mythical figures were Chinese twin sisters who transformed themselves into undead spirits with the goal of saving their mother, known as Mei-Ling and Hsien-Ko respectively. After aiding them with fighting of the powerful vampire Demitri in Romania, he went back home in order to process everything that had happened. The monks and people welcomed him back with open arms, surprised that he not only was still alive, but a bit more willing to talk and emote. As he took time to get back to his meditation, his studies with Buddhism, and contemplate about all he had been through, Donovan was plagued by a strange sound. It was not constant, but no matter if awake or asleep, he kept hearing what appeared to be a voice... calling out to him? After discussing with elders for help, it was determined that he was in fact in connection with something. Something to the northeast, a force was calling to him. They were not sure what it was nor its intent, but with this news, Donovan set out to go find the source.

As he traveled, ever slowly the voice would get a bit clearer. In time, he found himself in Tibet, among the Himalayan mountains. At this point guided merely by the voice, he eventually traversed the mountain before him to discover a strange alcove in said mountain. Examining it, he found that there was an opening to a tunnel. Aided by torchlight, he went in and found a boulder oddly blocking something. He could hear the voice the clearest it had ever been. Determined and with his strength, he moved the massive rock to the side and happened upon an odd sight: A chamber with only a sword embedded into a stone with a set of beads among the guard. While perplexed, he realized that the voice was coming from the blade. While unsure at first, he decided to unsheathe the blade. As he put his hand on the handle, he heard many other voices speaking to him, warning him to not take out the blade. However, the voice that had been calling to him spoke brashly against the voices, realizing someone was actually in the room. He pleaded with Donovan to let him free, complaining how he had been stuck here for so long and that he was bored since the 'other guys' were no fun.

The other voices interjected to explain to Donovan about the reason why the blade must stay sealed. Known as Dhylec, the blade was once a demon that caused havoc many moons in the past with a group of other creatures. In time, he was confronted by a noble monk who sought to end his campaign of terror. With his spirits and skills at his aid, he actually proved a difficult challenge for Dhylec. Seeing their boss struggling and wishing to save their hides, his group turned on him and aided the monk with taking down Dhylec. Despite the combined forces, Dhylec proved to be hard to kill. In a last-ditch effort, with the aid of the spirits, the monk transformed the demon into a blade. With the spirits at hand, he had control over the demon sword. However, even as a sword, Dhylec still proved rebellious. Seeing no other option, he knew he must be sealed away. With the aid of the surviving demons, they dug out a chamber in a high point in a mountain and sealed him there for all of time.

Dhylec interjected that sure, he caused some trouble here and there, but that he is willing to change so long as he can be released. At this point weeping, he promised he would be a good guy. He just wants to taste some fresh air again. While befuddled, Donovan then decided to make the decision to release Dhylec. Now free, Dhylec whooped and cheered as he got to move his body for the first time in centuries. At that point, he started to ramble in anger about his posse, spewing profanities about their betrayal and wishing to get back at them. Donovan merely stood there perplexed at the sight of a living sword, beads in hand. It was then, the spirits talked to him. They made it clear that Dhylec was now Donovan's responsibility as this blade could not be trusted on its own. Should he choose to deal with this blade, they would offer their power and services to aid him in keeping this blade in check. With this offer, he decided to adhere to being the wielder of Dhylec. While Dhylec was not keen on being a tool and listening to someone, he realized that he had to go along as he didn't want to be back in that stone. From then on, the strange duo of Donovan and Dhylec would set out to continue his journey.

For ten years, the odd duo worked together in a rather uneasy gentlemen's agreement. While Dhylec was helpful in providing Donovan more means to fight the wicked, he was rather annoying. Likewise, while Dhylec was grateful to finally be able to stretch his limbs and feel the blood rush of battle once more, he still was annoyed at having to adhere to a master. But overtime, they managed to find ways to cope with each other's company. Traveling through Europe again, as they rested for the night, both suddenly felt a powerful spike in power. Both were shocked at not only feeling this power, but how far away it was. Clocking on to the direction it came from, Donovan set out to locate the source. Days of travel found him and Dhylec in a village. As he got ever closer to the source, he found himself at an orphanage. Seeing that it was a place for children, he wondered if the source could have been from a child. Given the idea of seeking to 'adopt' a child in order to investigate by Dhylec, Donovan talked with the staff in regard to seeking such. Guided by the staff lady, as he was shown the area where some kids were playing, he eventually locked eyes onto a young girl. Her energy, it matched what he felt all those nights ago. But more than that, looking at her face and eyes, he almost felt like he was looking into a mirror image. A face devoid of emotion, eyes that felt soulless, yet sad, it was eerily like seeing himself as a child... no, himself deep down. He approached the child slowly, greeting her. She didn't respond. The staff cautioned him about the child known as Anita.

Anita came here days ago from a village that had been massacred by a group of Darkstalkers. When a merchant found her, she was beside what appeared to be her parents. Oddly enough, every human beside her was killed. But not only that, every monster there was also dead. Anita was the only surviving living being found there among the rubble and death. This resonated with Donnovan as he recalled his trauma of what happened to him all those decades ago. As he thought these thoughts, Anita looked up and stared Donovan in the eyes. This caused Donovan to flinch slightly as he realized the girl was... reading his mind? Why else would she be doing what she is doing right as he had those thoughts he thought. As they both looked at each other, something was clicking. She then walked up to him, and then grabbed his longyi silently letting him know she will go with him. The staff surprised by this, asked Donovan if he wished to take the child with him since this was the first time she had any genuine interaction with anyone. Looking down at her and thinking, he decided to do so. From then on, this odd trio would venture out into the lands far and wide.

#cryas darkstalkers #darkstalkers #auranova26 #lore #donovan baine #anita #dhylec #myanmar #dhampir #demon sword #psychic #trio #Myanmarese #myanma #a tragic man a loudmouth and a mute #quite the trio of outcasts and oddballs

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alternate-kiza · 1 year

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tkitten16 · 1 year

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figured id do this for my first poll since i can never get them out of my head hehe

Refs of who they all are under the break because boy would this thing be long if i didn't do this-

Shen: (his toyhouse)

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Karu: (his toyhouse)

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Sinder: (his toyhouse)

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there's also an askblog i made of the trio you can look at if you want here k thanks for reading/voting bye

#super mario #mario OCs #super paper mario #mario & luigi #poll #tumblr poll #beanish oc #OCs #beanish #human #anthro cat #Shen #Sinder #Karu #TK's rambles #outcast trio #>:33333

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smorallow · 1 year

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Idk if I ever posted this?? But now I am because I love it (old meme redraw)

#kaileedraws #digtal art #meme redraw #lwo #living with outcasts #lwo ellie #lwo elliot #lwo bob #//this is their trio dynamic is like #/old lwo designs

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shepscapades · 9 months

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An assortment of Bangarry eepers from over the years… my soft guys with no trauma whatsoever (<- lie) <3

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itaots · 22 days

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the harmonies in npmd are so good but i wish the characters were more fleshed out you know. i think it’s a tighter story than black friday (which kinda felt all over the place NGL, love her tho) but when the lead’s 2 best friends die there is no time given to that and there’s ONLY 1 line about it. i feel richie and ruth were there to explore ideas that would have made the story too messy but they still wanted to include them, so both characters just have these interesting concepts as hidden traits and then they die and no one gives a fuck

#like ruth is a perv who is desperate to be loved so she is obsessed with the idea of sex bc she’s like 15 #and she has this entire inner world and creativity that she’s too scared to let out like she is so desperate for someone to love & See her #and richie is a dweeb who is the first one to stand up to jagerman even when he’s abt to die #for a trio of outcasts who only have each other it completely feels like peter did not care much for them #given how he just goes ‘richie is dead?!’ and then ruth’s death is forgotten by the narrative

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lucifer-kane · 3 months

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oh how i've missed these characters and especially charles' and Jesse's interactions. It's sooooo so good

#radio outcast lb #i should draw the trio finally i've only ever drawn charles

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fernsnailz · 8 months

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DANCE IN FIRE - A SONIC THE HEDGEHOG FANZINE

36 pages of artwork, sketches, and comics featuring Team Dark.

no one expected Rouge the Bat, Shadow the Hedgehog, and E-123 Omega to stick together as a team for this long. so what binds this trio of outcasts together? what would they keep from the rest of the world, yet share with each other? and why the hell wasn’t Omega in Sonic Free Riders?

out RIGHT HERE on itch.io for free!! donations are appreciated, but not required.

physical release COMING SOON (hopefully)

#IT'S OUUUUUT IT'S DONE IT'S HERE #lmk if anyone has any issues accessing it this is my first time using itch.io #HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY RAAAAHHHHHHHHHH #fern's sketchbook #team dark #sth #rouge the bat #shadow the hedgehog #e-123 omega #🦔🦇🤖

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runawaycarouselhorse · 1 year

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What made both her sacrifice for her team mates’ happiness in Pocket Monsters (2019)/Pokemon Journeys episode 95 and the fact that she thought this would be her end more poignant for me is that being completely alone is what Musashi hates the most. She lost her (single) mother as a child and was never adopted, going from foster home to foster home... ;_;

After many failures (like being unable to graduate from a school meant to train literal Pokemon Nurses, because she couldn’t do what Chansey do, despite studying hard and being adept at skills like bandaging…) and having her heart broken and being disappointed (she let a boy she loved go alone so she can pursue idol dreams with some friends, who all made it… without her, so she lost a possible love for an impossible dream)…

She couldn’t bond with her partners and left them to be injured, just to save herself, during her training days at Team Rocket. She’d become selfish and self-preserving… in the Japanese version, the others called her “shinigami Musashi” according to Yamato (Cassidy), likening her to a reaper of souls… but James refused to run away, sick of living a life where he ran away from all his problems. He’d sacrifice himself for her and Meowth’s safety, getting badly injured and nearly missing their final exam, hospitalized. The first time they uttered the beginning of their motto was when she believed she was all alone again, much like in this scene… the Rockets in the Japanese version repeat the last thing someone else says as if to answer a question (the “nanda kanda to kikare tara” = “if you ask us about this or that” is mostly filler that could be substituted with anything else.)

Musashi (Jessie): (dejectedly, as she walks away alone as the final exam begins, even being questioned by Nyasu/Meowth where she’s going): Is this all that there is…?

Kojiro (James): (answering while leaning posed against a tree, covered in bandages, but they were only wrapped over his clothes so he could whip them off dramatically) If you ask us 'if this is all that there is,' our answer will be the universe’s compassion!

She’s so moved, she turns away to wipe her tears. “A team mate who won’t run away…”

I think that’s the first time they ever see her cry.

Jessie desperately wants family, belonging, that’s why she falls in love so quickly, she wants a family more than anything—James had everything material growing up, but not love… Musashi had near to nothing material growing up, BUT she had her mother’s love… until she lost her very, very early. They contrast each other! They’re soul mates, eternal partners, whether you ship them or not. Meowth, too, was orphaned as a kitten, never even named, and an outcast his whole life. He's also always falling in love easily, seeking a home... the trio should never be separated, they are each other’s sought-for home.

I think the falling snow in this scene, where she runs off in tears, after wearing a brave smile and telling James it’s okay to stay with Cassidy, is a very deliberate choice, as Jessie loves snow. One of her few happy memories of her depressing childhood is being made treats made of snow to eat. She unknowingly lost her mother in the snowy Andes mountains, seeking Mew, put into foster care, while Miyamoto tried to make money to give her a better life... glittering snow and sparkling tears…

For Meowth too, she lets him go. She just wants everyone to have their chance at love.

So, her believing she’ll end up dying alone, as she’s always feared, Musashi here laments her luck, but also has a beautiful little dream of her friends saving her.

Once again, similarly to the break-up episode of DP, she was the one who calmly and gently encouraged James to pursue a possible love. She also broke Dustox’s pokeball, in tears, not wanting her to make the same mistake she did, giving up on an attainable love for an unattainable goal (and, indeed, Jessie did not win the Grand Festival, despite her skill at Pokemon Contests… she made the right decision for Dustox’s happiness.)

Jessie loves her friends. Sure, she’s caustic, rude, temperamental, bitter, and self-absorbed, but she prioritizes love and their happiness. She doesn’t want them to be alone and abandoned the way she felt as a kid. She loves them so much so, she’s satisfied to die alone and suffer her worst fear if it meant they get to be happy. That’s self-sacrifice.

She doesn’t resent them one bit, saying it’s a nice dream when she thinks she’s imagined them saving her life… she thought it was her mind comforting her before her death, accepting her fate, rather than realizing it’s effectively a premonition of what will be reality… and when she realizes?! She initially reproaches them, looking mad, because she thought they abandoned their happiness for her! But no, things didn’t work out… this is where they’re meant to be: by each other’s side.

James also knows how much marriage means to her, even though he’s so traumatized by it, the word “fiance” triggers literal flashbacks for him and he climbed up a tree to get away from a teenaged girl who called him that. Yet, in XY episode 63, where she fell for Dr. White...

Kojiro: (with head down, eyes shadowed) If Musashi (Jessie) wants to pursue her happiness as a woman, shouldn't we give her our blessing?

Nyasu also had his misfortunes in love... they sympathize and empathize.

"Let's show her we're men and leave without saying anything..."

As Kojiro runs away, he sheds tears, wishing her happiness and bidding her farewell, silently. The scenes in these two episodes are clear parallels.

But in the end (including the final episodes, as rushed as that plotline was although I still loved Wobbuffet acting exactly like a troubled child of parents going through a messy divorce), they’ll always realize their happiness is by each other’s side as a trio.

"Sometimes you get good pulls, sometimes you get bad ones. Sometimes they're good, even if you think they're bad. Sometimes they're bad, even if you think they're good."

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01zfan · 22 days

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beanbag | l. sh & l. at

bestfriend!sohee + anton x bestfriend!reader | 6.1k words

after hearing yall wanted this i took a crack at my second threesome fic everrrrr hope you like :3

contains: smoking, high sex, threesomes

sohee and anton were never popular. they were quiet children and decided from a very young age that they would never try to become cool. they ended up finding humor in the times they were picked last for sports, bonding over they were ostracized by their peers.

they met you the same way. a little girl playing by herself on the playground, her toys being her only friends. making friends was hard for anton and sohee, but it came naturally when they talked to you. before they knew it you guys were a trio, okay with being unpopular as long as you guys had eachother.

things didn’t start changing until junior high. you still weren’t sure how to describe it. all you knew was that you started the summer as an outcast but came back to school as someone everyone wanted to know. you made it into the good graces of the popular kids and teachers, becoming a class favorite. it wasn’t long until you were invited to outings every weekend, spending time with people outside of your small circle.

anton and sohee changed too. anton hit a growth spurt that had him towering above his peers and sohee ended up joining clubs and focusing on academics. the three of you were no longer inseparable like you were as kids, but you remained by eachothers side. more times than not you found yourself hanging out with them over your new friends.

your popularity didn’t stop, even when you graduated. it was the summer now, everyone was trying to have as much fun as they could before leaving town to go to college. you had spent a majority of the summer at shitty pool parties and driving around aimlessly, trying to find out where the next shitty pool party would be. when you got a text from anton in your three-person groupchat that he wanted to hang out as a trio again you were over the moon. you were over at anton’s house in less than an hour, walking through his empty house down to the basement to your usual hangout.

sohee and anton were already there when you arrived. they were talking about something unimportant, the topic dropped the moment they heard you coming down the stairs. they got up and pulled you into a group hug, talking about how it’s been too long. you pulled away from them and took it in. already they had changed, looking like adults getting ready to go to college.

“congratulations on graduating,” you realized you haven’t seen them since the ceremony. “we actually did it.”

anton and sohee both cheered, happy to have the years of school behind them. none of you knew what college would be like, and none of you knew what the next chapters of your lives would look like. all you three knew was that you would be experiencing it alone. for the first times in your lives you three wouldn’t be going to school together. it was daunting, and you truthfully wished it didn’t have to be that way. but now was the time to grow up and leave your childhood behind you.

sohee and anton knew it too, that’s why they didn’t try to bring up the future too much. the past might've been to painful too. that's why they reached into their bags to pull out stashes of weed, talking about how they had to smoke it down before going off to college.

when the two revealed the entertainment for the night would be pre-rolled joints you were pleasantly surprised. you didn’t take anton or sohee as the type to partake in drugs, but the smile on their faces told you different. sohee brought paraphernalia of his own, hidden in the depths of his backpack. he expertly rolled another joint as anton lit his.

when anton lit up in his basement you couldn’t control your expression. you were wide eyed and in shock, thinking about the kind of reaction anton’s parents would have if they came downstairs and smelled the weed. in a basement nonetheless, the smell would be trapped down there for days. even sohee looked surprised, thinking they would go out to the secluded garden to smoke.

anton took in both of your faces before taking a quick hit. he stood up and you and sohee followed behind him, making your way towards the small window in the basement. sohee opened the egress window for anton and he blew out the smoke before handing the joint to sohee.

“i have all week to get the smell out of here, so don’t stress it.” anton said with a smile on his face.

that was all you and sohee needed. it wasn’t long before smoke clouds were loosely being pointed out the window, subsequently filling the basement with a haze.

lighting two joints at once was an interesting choice, the three of you constantly passing two of them back and forth. the rotation was confusing, making all three of you giggle from the novelty of it all. there would be moments where someone would have both of the joints, taking a drag from both at the same time. you three stopped trying to blow the smoke out the window. your legs had gotten tired from standing, all three of you falling into the basement furniture and nodding to the music.

when the joints were done, your friends eyes had started to get low and bleary but you felt like you could keep going. the three of you all looked to eachother, trying to silently gauge how high everyone else was. sohee reached for his backpack. when sohee pulled out his bong it was like you guys were kids again. memories of coming over to anton’s house to play with a new toy filled your mind. the way you guys settled into the furniture was the same, all of you assuming your old positions. anton was nestled into the beanbag, sohee chose the beat up chair and you settled on the couch. not much had changed—the only difference was that you guys were gawking over sohee’s new glass bong instead of the nerdy things from your childhood.

“how much?” anton asked quietly.

he was too afraid to hold it, only staring at it from afar. sohee had moved from his chair to sit close to anton, letting him have a better look. you moved down the couch, getting closer to the show and tell.

“i did mark’s work for the whole semester to get this.” sohee said.

he was proud of it, placing the bong in the light to show it refracting through the glass. the dark blue and clean blown glass splayed on the carpet in front of you guys. all of you were mesmerized, anton even taking a picture of the carpet for safe keeping. you three were like kids again, asking questions and holding it up to the light to see through it.

“should we use it?” sohee asked, eyebrows high looking at you and anton.

you and anton looked at eachother, and then you and sohee looked at anton. the looks were mischievous, waiting for someone to finally fold and say lets do it. you were the one that nodded your head first, reaching for anton’s weed so he’d get the hint as the designated bowl packer to get to work. anton was quick even though he was gentle with the bong, scared that he would break it. while anton did that sohee went upstairs, bringing down water and snacks for later.

when sohee returned the three of you settled into your huddle, getting ready to pass the bong around. sohee lit it for you first, the two of them watching with hooded eyes as you took it all in. you pulled out the bowl and passed it to sohee quickly, letting him breathe in the remainder of the smoke that was still in the neck of the bong. you lit it for anton after nearly coughing a lung out.

by the time the weed in the bowl became ash, you were more than high. everything was moving slowly, and the lulling beat of the music made you feel like you were moving. anton and sohee were effected the same, setting the bong aside once they were done.

anton was settled into the beanbag while you laid on your side on the carpet, nodding your head to the music. the three of you were silent, letting the weed take over to let your bodies fully relax. anton stretched his leg. out, playfully hitting your shoulder with his foot. you tilted your head to look at him, eyes low with a smile on his face.

“thanks for coming over.” anton said.

you nodded your head, playfully slapping his foot away.

“i wouldn’t miss this. besides i never see you guys anymore.” you say, sighing dramatically.

when you hear sohee scoff you look to him laying on the couch. you hit his knee, trying to get him to talk.

“got something you wanna say?” you ask.

sohee rubs his knee, before sinking more into the couch.

“you’re the one that’s too busy now to hang out with us.” sohee says.

you look to anton and he nods in agreement. he picks at his nails for a second before looking to you again.

“always hanging out with the popular kids.” anton says.

“even those annoying jocks” sohee agrees.

that’s when you get up and look at your two friends in surprise. they always seemed stuck to eachother like glue, where one went to other followed. hearing that they don’t hang out as much as they used to confused you. sohee leaned his head against the back of the couch and laughed.

“only because i’m trying to have fun before i go off to college.” you look back to the ceiling.

“what type of fun?” sohee asks.

you hit his knee again, and you can hear anton behind you hold back a laugh.

”wouldn’t you like to know, you little pervert.” you joke.

“we heard about you and that guy on the basketball team.” sohee tells you.

“and what did you hear?” you ask.

when sohee is goes silent you look to anton. he tries so hard not to say anything, but when you move towards anton he caves immediately.

”we heard that you guys ya know,” anton looks to sohee and then to you. “did it.” anton says finally.

you just shake your head, trying not to show how embarrassed you are. you were so close to sealing the deal with eunseok, someone you found yourself pining after for the better half of the school year. but nothing came from it, putting you in the position of being someone with the bare minimum of experiences on your way to college.

“we didn’t do anything.” your hand starts mindlessly picking at the fabric of the couch. “cool that rumor spread though.” you say.

sohee comes down from the couch, a hand going to your shoulder to try and make you feel better. a smile is on his face as he shakes you gently, getting you to face him.

“it’s okay dude.” sohee points towards anton on the beanbag. “anton is still a virgin.” sohee says.

you laugh when you hear anton move from the beanbag to try and hit sohee. you end up leaning back to give anton the space but he misses sohee, only hitting a part of his shoulder.

while the two still argue, you go back to pickign at the carpet. you think about all the things you haven’t gotten to experience yet before leaving, some of the fun you’ve been missing out on. you look at sohee and anton, two of your bestest friends and your two confidants. you can stop yourself from clearing your throat and looking at the two of them.

“are you actually, anton?” you ask quietly.

anton and sohee pull away from their tussle to look at you.

“am i what?” anton asks.

“a virgin?” you answer.

instantly, you can see the blush on anton’s face. it starts on his neck and goes to his face in splotches, ending at his ears. you can even see sohee get a little red, the tips of his ears becoming rosy.

“not totally. there was that time after prom.” anton says.

he sounds far away, his hand scratching the back of his neck shyly. he ends his sentence with an awkard laugh when you nod your head sympathetically.

“i haven’t done that much either.” you say.

“me neither.” sohee says.

even though sohee and anton’s eyes go wide, it’s true. none of you had done anything besides heavy petting and making out with someone until your jaw started locking. none of you were nearly as well versed as your peers. you thought about going to college, how everyone there would be lightyears ahead of you in terms of intimacy. you look to your two bewildered friends. maybe if one of you guys made a move it that could change.

you shift from your spot on the carpet. anton and sohee instantly perk up, watching your every move. they see how you stand on your knees and clear your throat, suddenly so dry from nervousness and the weed. you put a slow hand on sohee’s knee, he follows your hand all the way up to your face. you look to sohee and then to anton. sohee looks to anton and then you.

“do you think we can?” you ask outloud.

sohee nods while anton remains still on the beanbag. sohee doesn’t waste anytime looking at his friend before going behind you. sohee out of your line of sight makes all your attention go to anton. his face only gets redder as you slowly make your way over to him, guiding by sohee behind you.

you experimentally crawled over to anton on the beanbag, cautiously reaching out your hand. you let it rest on his thigh lightly, gliding your hand repeatedly over the small space. anton was still confused, his previously hooded eyes were stretched wide as he tried to figure out what was happening. sohee had gone behind you at some point, using gentle fingers to stretch the collar of your shirt to touch your neck and shoulder.

sohee’s touches only egged you on, until your hands had gotten more desperate. you moved your other hand to anton’s thigh to move your hand lightly. when he looked at you and squirmed underneath your touch, you halted your movements.

“is this okay, anton?” sohee asked from behind you.

sohee was only half paying attention, asking the question between kisses on your neck and shoulder. but his question pulled you from your trance. you took your hands away, afraid that you had gone to far. but anton placed his hands over yours before nodding quickly. he brought them further up until they rested over his front pockets. the sudden movement brought you forward, causing sohee to press his body closer to yours.

you were face to face with anton now, breath fanning his face. you looked down at your hands only for a second—they were so close to touching his dick. the music that played on the basement speakers was long forgotten. the blood rushing through your ears and the sound of sohee’s lips against your skin was the only music you needed.

“if you won’t, switch places with me.” sohee said to anton.

that was all anton needed before bringing you closer to him. your noses touched first, pressing together until he timidly kissed you.

it was slow and the pacing was uneven, suddenly both of you were painfully aware that anton didn’t know what he was doing and you were out of practice.

you brought a hand to anton’s chin to hold him in place while you silently guide him through kissing. you took your time, letting each kiss linger on his lips as you progressively deepened it. anton was a fast learner but shy; his grip of your triceps told you he wanted to take charge but was too nervous to do it. your mind quickly ran through the small list of girls that anton had talked about over the years. you don’t think any of his crushes led to anything more than hopeless pining. you know it’s true when anton starts whimpering into your mouth, so overwhelmed and sensitive just from you slowly kissing him. when he sticks his tongue in your mouth you suck on it, and his grip on your arm almost becomes bruising. sohee stops kissing your neck but you can feel his hand go down your back.

you don’t know if it’s the weed that makes you sloppy, but when you pull away from anton the lower part of his face is glossy from spit. you wipe your own face with the back of your hand when he reaches out a tongue to swipe over his already wet lips.

“sorry.” you say sheepishly.

”don’t apologize.” anton says.

anton is breathless, and when you look down you feel your own words leave you. he is straining in his jean shorts, the outline of his hard didck visible through the denim. sohee sees it too, laughing before kissing your neck again.

“he likes it.” sohee says from behind you.

you give anton another kiss on the lips and pull away fast. you revel in his eyes that are still closed when you pull away and how he brings his lips forward in efforts to follow you.

anton’s eyes are still closed when you turn your body to face sohee. his lips are already wet, his hair pushed away from his face as he looks at you. sohee is bolder than anton, guiding your body onto the beanbag to sit in between anton’s legs. sohee doesn’t hesitate until your back is pressed against anton’s chest. you have to pull him in the same way you did anton, but your gentle hand starts shaking from the anticipation building all over you.

seeing you nervous makes the playing field even. you keep a hand on sohee’s shoulder as he makes out with you, and you have a hand on anton’s thigh as he breathes heavily behind you. both of their hands are all over your body, sneaking underneath your shirt and grasping your chest. you feel their hands on your thighs, pushing and pulling you like tug-of-war. you can feel anton’s arm snake around your waist to keep you close.

sohee’s lips distract you and the weed makes you all three move in a daze. the sound of kissing and moving on the beanbag fills the air as your three clumsily make-out. there’s a moment where sohee tilts his head to the same side where anton kisses your neck. their forehead touch, and the two of them look at eachother simultaneously. while sohee is distracted, anton brings his hand that cups your chest over your shirt to tilt your head towards him.

anton brings you in for another kiss, instantly putting his tongue in your mouth. sohee takes it in stride, going to suck on the parts anton couldn’t reach. sohee’s hands started knead your chest while anton starts feeling your sides. his hand that was holding your chin started covering the expanse of your neck. something inside of you almost wants him to squeeze, but there will be chances for that in the future. feeling anton’s large hand gently on your neck is more than enough.

both of their hands are rushed and both were testing out various kinds of pressure. you were experimenting yourself, purposefully moving your hips back to press your ass against anton’s dick while guiding sohee’s hands underneath your shirt.

sohee took the extra step to pull your shirt over your head, forcing you to pull apart from anton. anton’s eyes lingered on your lips for a second before flickering down to stare at your bra. parts of your chest peaked over the top and spilled from the bottom from the movement. both sohee and anton’s eyes were only staring, not daring to reach a hand out to grasp you. you felt yourself melting underneath their gaze, letting your head fall back until it rested on anton’s shoulder.

“both of you touch me.” you spread your legs on the beanbag to allow sohee to come closer. “please.” you begged.

for the first time ever, anton made the first move. his hand that was pawing at your sides confidently grabbed a handful of your chest, squeezing your skin roughly. sohee followed suit, mirroring what his bestfriend was doing on the other side. you closed your eyes and leaned even further into anton’s broad chest, already overwhelmed by the feeling. you could feel anton’s strong and broad chest against your back and his twitching dick against your ass.

“you’re perfect.” anton whispered underneath his breath.

you moaned to let anton know you heard him, and you moan again when sohee pulls your bra down by the straps to free your chest. he tweaks your nipple until you grasp his arm from the pain. anton presses soft kisses to your cheek while sohee pulls your bra down your body slowly. your breasts are free, and sohee hesitates only for a moment before latching his mouth to your nipple.

your back arches instantly into sohee’s mouth, and sohee places a hand on your back to support you. now sohee and anton are actively pulling your body in two different directions, making you bring your head up from anton’s shoulder.

“are you guys fighting over me right now?” you ask.

the weed makes all three of you giggle. the situation is insane, completely unlike all of your personalities to do this. your question serves as a buffer, forcing the three of you to really comprehend what is happening. your shirt is off and your bra is pulled down to your stomach, sohee’s lips are kissed swollen and anton is painfully hard in his jeans.

you settle into the beanbag, placing hands on anton’s thighs as you steady yourself. you look at sohee, and then crane your head to look at anton. the two never took their hands off of you, touching you affectionately while you get comfortable.

“what do you want us to do?” anton asked.

sohee and anton’s hands found their way to your legs. they both press into your thigh and calves. when sohee tugs at the end of your pants you lift your hips.

“take my pants off.” you say.

sohee continues to pull at the end of your pants while anton makes work of the button on the top of your jeans. he’s quick, too quick that it causes him to fumble. you look back again to see anton staring at you, eyes sleepy and clown out. you try to mirror his look while your hands go over his wrists, forcing him to slow down.

when your pants are off and you are left in just your panties, the two go back to feeling every part of your body. now you have the exposed skin of your thighs, soft and supple underneath their sluggish hands. the weed from the bond must’ve hit, making all of you more relaxed. you let out a shaky breath before going back to anton’s lips. anton is preoccupied, too busy pressing his fingers into your clothed heat. anton and sohee take turns, switching between smacking your waistband against your skin and spreading your legs further. when you feel your panties getting pushed to the side, you let out a hiss. you pull away from anton and look down at sohee between your legs.

“can i finger you?” sohee asks.

the straightforwardness has you feeling bashful. you nod your head, not being able to use words before anton brings you back to his lips.

anton sticks his otngue into your mouth the same time sohee puts a finger inside of you. you can only take what anton gives you, sloppy kisses that leave your face wet. all of your attention is put towards sohee’s pretty fingers that disappear into your cunt. the wet sounds of kissing and fingering fills the space of anton’s stuffy basement. you’re whining into anton’s mouth when sohee puts another finger in. anton pulls away from your lips, looking down at what sohee is doing to you.

“can i try?” anton asks.

he’s still sheepish, his hand doesn’t slink down your body until you nod your head. sohee kisses your stomach as he settles further down your body, not taking out his fingers. instead sohee only guides anton’s finger in with his when he pulls his digits out. you can’t stop yourself from clamping around the three fingers, all of you gasping at the feeling.

“so tight.” anton whispers.

“look.” sohee says.

neither of you are sure who he is talking to, but you both look down anyway. sohee puts his hand on anton’s wrist, stopping him from pumping his finger back in. the three of you look down at your cunt, closing in on nothing as it pulses like a heartbeat. anton’s dick twitches against your ass again as the three of you continue to watch. you get impatient, pinching their fingers together before wiggling your hips. the two get the hint, pumping their fingers back into your heat again. when they are still slow, you start guiding their fingers in and out of you at a faster pace.

“faster.” you whimper.

the beanbag caused you to slip further down anton’s body. your head is just above his heart now, hearing it thud in his chest as he picks up the pace. when you dig your fingers into sohee’s bicep he hisses in pain, and you dig your other hand into anton’s thigh. neither of them stop, driven by the way your body shudders. they both have tunnelvision on the way you react to them, that they are caught by surprised when you wrap your legs around sohee. your legs bring him in close, and your arm reaches up to grab onto anton’s shoulder for stability. you are a moaning mess, pulling down on anton with so much force he hunches over your forehead. anton and sohee are too speechless to talk, only grunting and whimpering as they focus on fucking their fingers into you at the same pace. the wet sound and you whining overtakes the song that changed on the speakers.

“i’m cumming.” you whine.

sohee and anton only go faster. sohee looks up at your breasts, how your hardened nipples bounce from the momentum. even though you bite your lip the sound comes through. you open your eyes briefly when you feel anton’s hair brush your face. your heads are pressed side by side and anton’s hand pressing into your stomach keeps you in place. you can hear anton’s quiet moans, how he’s getting more and more pent up seeing, hearing, and feeling your release. you hear sohee same something and anton places a gentle kiss to your cheek, pulling his finger out of your heat to let sohee fuck you through your orgasm.

sohee takes charge, using his other hand to press down on your clit. it’s a different sensation, almost painful from the stimulation you’re already receiving. anton uses his free hand to grab your breasts, being the roughest you’ve ever seen him.

when you are spent, you legs wrapped around sohee loosens and your hand falls from anton’s shoulder. you are a huffing mess, gasping for air when sohee pulls his fingers out of you. the weed and post orgasm pulls at your eyelids, but you keep them open to look at sohee in front of you. he’s worried, kissing your cheeks and massaging your twitching legs. your body is almost out of energy, but when you see sohee’s dick jump in his shorts you open your mouth.

“are there condoms?” you ask.

you have to swallow spit and lick your mouth to try and wet it. you only think for a second how ridiculous you three must look. mussed hair and flushed faces, all panting looking to one another as you try to figure out who was a condom. you can practically see the lightbulb go off over sohee’s head when he remembers he is always prepared.

“in my backpack.” sohee points to his back behind anton and anton reaches for it instantly. “i think.” sohee says.

while anton rummages through all the things in sohee’s bag sohee stands up, pulling his layered long-sleeve and short-sleeve shirt over his head in one go. you look up to watch him, the setting sun casts perfectly on his face. the ray of sun that comes through the tiny window lights up the space. you can see the dander floating around in the room, moving harshly in the wind as sohee kicks off his pants and socks. sohee’s gaze pierces through the sun, staring at you as he’s finished getting undressed. sohee is left in his underwear when he comes back down to his knees in front of you. anton dumps out the contents of sohee’s bag on the floor in a haste, moving things around not being able to find a condom.

sohee’s bag is thrown somewhere, and anton reluctantly lets go of you so he can get undressed himself. he stands up from the beanbag and you move forward, standing on your knees the same way sohee does. his hand comes to your hips and yours goes to his face, swiping a finger on his moles like they might disappear. he pulls you in for a kiss, and you can hear anton’s clothes hitting the ground behind you. you can hear the beanbag move too as anton comes behind you. he presses lips to your clammy shoulders and neck in the same places sohee kissed. anton’s hands go to your thighs, spreading them out slightly so he can come closer to you. one of sohee’s hands goes to your chin, tilting your head upwards so he can get a better angle. you can feel yourself becoming overwhelmed again, almost knocking you off your feet when you feel anton’s dick press against your ass. he gasps behind you, so sensitive from your bare skin touching his sensitive bare dick.

sohee pulls away from your lips, looking at anton behind you with the same look.

“you’re too impatient.” sohee says.

any attempt at a scolding goes right over anton’s head. you can feel anton smile against the back of your head when he ruts against your ass.

“if you won’t, i will.” anton remarks.

both you and sohee laugh at anton using sohee’s words against him.

“look at you being snippy.” you try to sound light and playful but your voice comes out sickly sweet.

“almost thought you were older than me for a second.” sohee says.

anton only hums against your head, moving his hips languidly against the swell of your ass. your hand goes behind your head to fist anton’s hair, sighing out in between the space of you and sohee. sohee looks to all of his things spread out on the floor, looking slightly annoyed. you go to kiss sohee’s neck while he scans the pile, not seeing what he needs.

“i don’t have any condoms.” sohee says regretfully.

you hum against sohee’s neck, placing an open mouthed kiss before pulling away. anton still rubs against your ass, his fingers digging roughly into your hip bones.

“we can still have fun.” you say.

youlet your hand go underneath the waistband of sohee’s boxers. you touch his tip first, feeling the precum that wets the thin fabric of his underwear. you rub it around, teasing sohee enough until he pulls his boxers down to his knees. you grab sohee’s shaft and squeeze the same way he squeezed your chest, looking down at him slightly as he closes his eyes in bliss. sohee is more pliant now, even bringing a hand to your shoulder to find stability. when you start pumping his length sohee puts a hand over antons then above it when he realizes the spot is taken. you have to pair of hands with a death grip on you, and you are being pulled backwards towards anton as he becomes more wound up. you take your time with sohee, trying to coax out the whimpers he was hiding from you earlier.

“you’re gonna miss me, right guys?” you ask.

you look at sohee while you ask the question, but both of the boys whine affirmatives.

“so much.” anton whimpers.

“so so so much.” sohee agrees.

you smile before placing a quick kiss to sohee’s lips. you look down at hard dick in your hand, glistening in the setting sun. it’s close enough to the bong that your hand is painted by the sun coming through the stained glass. the sight is so pretty, almost as pretty as your two friends you’re sandwiched between.

“i’ll miss you guys too.” you whine.

your hand around sohee picks up the pace, and he walks forward on his knees until his tip presses against your stomach. he’s needy, fucking your hand with such vigor his tip pokes your bellybutton. this sohee is so different from the one that was teasing anton earlier. any attempt the three of you guys have tried to become the dominant one fails terribly. it’s reminiscent of the relationship you guys have had over the years, how none of you guys have a “leader”. that’s what set you apart from every other friend group, and that’s what is driving the three of you guys over the edge together. you are helping the other feel good, driven solely by weed and the tightening coil in the pits of your stomachs.

sohee grabs anton’s hand on your waist and pulls it down to your heat. you’re still sensitive everywhere, shaking above their hands when they start gliding their fingers up and down your folds. sohee focuses on your clit and spreading your folds open while anton fingers your from behind. he’s fast and hits deep, mimicking the thrusts he takes against your ass.

“i’m gonna cum.” anton whispers.

his voice is still gentle and sweet, almost pitiful as he confesses he’s going to finish first. his words are interrupted with gasps and whimpers when he finds a new way to stimulate himself against your body.

“fuck. me too.” sohee follows after him.

their fingers inside of you are hurried, trying to get you to join them as fast as possible. it’s pitiful, the three of you so close together as you all try to desperately make the others feel good. you are all lost in the feeling, only coming back to reality when sohee bends forward to press his teeth into your shoulder.

“oh my god.” you moan.

when you moan loudly, it gives sohee and anton the indication to do the same. anton no longer moans quietly into your shoulder or beside your ear. he means past your shoulder into sohee’s space while he uses his free hand to press his dick against your ass cheek. he’s fucking his with such force is pushes you forward, forcing your free hand to hold onto sohee for stability. sohee continues to fuck your hand and kiss the bite mark he left, moaning into your ear repeating how close he is. his fingers on your clit lose their steady pace, now just trying to overstimulate you.

the three of you are moaning in unison when you finally begin to feel release. you can feel anton slow his thrusts as hot cum spurts onto your side and dribbles onto your ass and thighs. you can feel him slow down behind you, pressing the top of his sweaty head to your back as he looks down at what he’s done. he is still moaning from the aftershocks, almost overstimulated himself when he uses his dick to move the cum around on your ass.

sohee moves a hand from your shoulder to wrap around your hand. he makes you squeeze harder and move your hand faster. he is silent, letting the tension build over him for a second until he can’t bear it anymore. sohee pants your stomach as you both look down and moan. you follow after your two bestfriends solely from the sight and hearing them finish on either side of you. it’s overstimulating, causing your thighs to shake as you lean to sohee for support. anton’s hands hold onto you to help you steady as you feel yourself coming undone again. your eyes are screwed shut, and you curse while saying their names.

you’re still shaking when sohee and anton guide you down to the rug underneath your knees. you three are all trying to regain composure, breathing through your noses.

all three of you are side by side on your backs staring at the ceiling of the basement. you focus on the music, letting the heavy bass that shakes the floor bring you back down to earth. you sneak quick glances at your two friends on either side of you. their chests still heave as they stare at the ceiling too, blissed out looks on their faces. you’re sure you look the same, despite your shaking legs and sudden shudders. anton’s eyes are closed and his hands clench at his sides. sohee smiles and opens his eyes first, hands resting on his stomach.

“we should do this next summer too.” sohee laughs.

#01zfan: sohee #01zfan: anton #sohee smut #anton smut #riize smut

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