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smallpeniscollective · 1 year ago

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Raphael fuckers, come get y'all juice!!

another smutty Raphael/Haarlep blurb for a concept I CANNOT get out of my HEAD

ladies, gentlemen, and anyone else who showed up to the potluck, here’s some good old fashioned dp with Raphael and Haarlep

content: pov/2nd person, she/her pronouns, afab body parts, pet names, devil sex, fingering with claws (yeOWCH), orgasm delay/denial, p-in-v, p-in-a, double penetration, master/pet dynamic, and whatever else comes with sploinking the devil and his incubus

trigger warning for pain during sex and also for rough sex as punishment for stealing from the house of hope

(this kinda ended up Way longer than a blurb so please enjoy just some porn with barely any plot)

*~*~*

He could have whisked your clothes away in an instant with one of his usual theatrical snaps, but you could sense this was a power play, to make you feel your submission to him deep under your skin. Ravenous, glowing eyes watched as you undressed, making you feel suddenly shy and yearning to hide from his penetrating gaze.

“Oh, don’t be timid now, little mouse. You lost that right the second you entered my home without permission.”

While your terrifyingly hopeless situation had your blood running cold, you couldn’t deny that feeling the low rumble of his voice in your naked chest sent a fresh wave of arousal to your core. You continued to undress with averted eyes and shaky hands. When you dropped the last of your clothing onto a small pile on the floor, you managed to look up at him with anxiously rounded eyes.

“On the bed,” he ordered. His voice sounded cruel and cold, contradicting how intimate this felt to you.

You felt the sensation of shame drop your heart in your chest, unable to stop the panicked wondering of what your companions would think of their fearless leader degrading herself so willingly for a devil.

But your body acted of its own volition, obeying his orders and climbing into the bed rather ungracefully. You sat towards the edge of the bed on your heels, kneeling before him as if he were the answer to your prayers, despite him being the main threat to your existence in this moment.

He approached the mattress with slow and calculated steps while his tail swished behind him like an irritated cat. His wings extended out wide, encompassing you and blocking your view of anything but him.

His hand raised, and you instinctively flinched, only for him to slowly stroke his knuckles down the side of your cheek. His lips curled into a wicked grin in response to your fear. “Don’t act so scared, little thief. I won’t harm you… yet.”

Your heartbeat quickened in your chest at the promise of pain.

He gripped your chin tightly with his thumb and finger, pressing his claw into your bottom lip. When your lips instinctively parted, he dove in. You never expected his kisses to be gentle, but the scorch of his lips pulled a surprised noise out of you. Your eyes fluttered closed as you let him consume you with greedy licks of his hot tongue.

His other hand grazed your cheek before tracing down the side of your neck, claws scratching against your soft skin as he slid that hand into the hair at the nape of your neck.

When your hands moved to touch him, he gripped your hair and yanked your head back harshly, prying your open mouth from his. You whimpered from the sting of your hair almost being ripped out.

“You will not move until instructed. Do you understand?”

You tried to nod your head, but his firm grip on your hair didn’t allow much wiggle room.

“Use your words, pet.” His eyes were half-lidded with lust, but the cruel glare shined through his fiery irises.

“Yes,” you squeaked. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment at how weak you felt in that moment, when your entire journey seemed to have been about proving your strength.

“Yes, what?” He asked, tilting his head to the side and squinting his eyes at you. He was searching for submission in your frightened eyes, attempting to crush any form of rebellion against him you had left.

You reactively gulped, mouth suddenly dry as you realized what he wanted. With your voice as meek and vulnerable as you had ever heard it, you whispered, “Yes, master.”

The sharp-toothed grin that spread across his face could only be described as pure evil. The hero of Faerun, the ender of the Shadow Curse and life-saver to any unfortunate soul who crossed your path, was nothing but a mere pet to their new master.

“I so enjoy that title from your lips, dearest pet,” he hummed.

Before you could think of any response, his heavy hands swiftly moved to shove your shoulders back, sending you flying into mattress. You landed with a gasp on your back, and he was quick to pull your legs towards him, spreading you wide for him.

He had been able to smell your arousal from the moment he laid eyes on you in his home, but seeing now how truly wet you were for him, slick dripping from your folds and smeared across your inner thighs, it seemed to boost his ego beyond his absurd level of narcissism. “My, my,” he mused, swiping a clawed finger along your drenched slit, “it seems you rather enjoy submitting to my whims.”

Without instruction to move, you gripped the silken sheets with quick, shaky breaths as he toyed with you. When his claw caught on your clit, you inhaled sharply and bit down in your bottom lip.

Suddenly, two large fingers were shoved into you, and you couldn’t stop the moan that escaped you at the feeling of being stretched beyond what your own two fingers could manage. His pace was teasingly slow as he watched your body react to his touch, how your thighs trembled and your abdomen clenched. When his gaze shifted up at your eyes squeezed shut, he paused his motions. “Eyes on me, little mouse. You wouldn’t want me to take your averted gaze as disrespect, would you?”

“No,” you whimpered, opening your eyes slowly. When you met his eyes, his stare was downright predatory, and it sent a shiver up your spine.

“No?” he asked sharply, correcting your mistake of forgetting your manners. He forced his hand in deep, and you felt the tips of his claws press into your cervix in a warning.

“No, master.” Your brows upturned with an unspoken apology.

“Do not make me remind you again,” he threatened, digging his claws deeper into the flesh of your cunt.

“I’m sorry, master,” you whined. You could feel your walls throbbing around his hot fingers.

Satisfied with your reply, he continued pumping his fingers into you, letting his sharp claws freely scrape against your insides. Your moans mixed with winces as you experienced the pleasure mixing with pain in a way you never pictured yourself enjoying so much.

After what felt like an eternity of such sinful pleasure, a warmth bloomed below your stomach, pulling a string tight within you. When your walls tightened around his fingers, he pulled them out, eliciting a pathetic whine from your lips as that feeling in your abdomen sizzled out.

“Fret not, dearest thief, we’re not done yet,” he murmured before stepping back from the bed and snapping his wet fingers.

A flash of bright flames sparked, and you recognized the devilish form that appeared beside the bed.

“You called, master?” Haarlep asked, shifting his gaze from the still-clothed cambion to your naked body with unbridled lust.

Raphael looked over at Haarlep, and you witnessed the possessive gleam in his eyes fade into something colder and strangely more distant in regards to his personal incubus. “I want you to fuck our little thief,” he said bluntly. “And do make sure she comes. It will make the next act of our torrid affair… easier to handle.”

His phrasing had your mind beginning to spin with worry, but before you could vocalize any concerns, Haarlep obliged his master. He crawled onto the bed with fluid movements and slithered over your smaller frame, lining up his already-hard cock with your soaked entrance.

“Wait,” Raphael barked. Haarlep turned towards his master, and you both watched as Raphael walked towards the side of the bed and snapped his fingers once more. An elegant chair appeared behind him, and he promptly sat, crossing his leg over his knee and curling his fingers around his chin as if he were in deep thought. “Now, you may begin.”

At his words, Haarlep turned back to you, smiling wickedly. “I remember you,” he said, his voice identical to Raphael’s but with more whimsy, “you were the little mouse who snuck around the cat’s house. How does it feel to be beneath his claws?”

“Haarlep, your order was to fuck her, not to make conversation,” You could hear the annoyance in his tone.

“Very well, master,” Haarlep said, before settling his hands on the plump flesh of your hips and pushing into you. The first thing you felt was the sting of the stretch, much larger than anything you had felt before. You panted between pained moans as the ridges and bumps that adorned his member dragged along your tight walls, and your eyes squeezed shut involuntarily in response.

“Eyes on me, pet,” Raphael said, and you obediently opened them once more, turning your head to face him as Haarlep ground his hips against yours to nudge his cock deeper into you. Raphael studied your face as your brows upturned and your mouth hung open in intense pleasure.

You could see outline of Raphael’s erection through his breeches; he was feeling every sensation that the incubus was as you were taken in front of him. Raphael's eyes remained on you as he demanded, “Harder,” but you could tell the order was not for you when Haarlep’s grip on your hips tightened. His claws left deep, crescent-shaped indentions as they dug into your delicate skin.

Haarlep’s sensual slower thrusting then became hard pounding, and the sound of wet skin slapping against skin began to fill the room, along with the noises he pulled out of you. Your knuckles turned white from the grip you had on Raphael’s sheets as your low moans morphed into cries of pleasure. Your eyes were still on his but beginning to blur with tears as he watched you be fucked relentlessly by his copy.

Raphael let out his own quiet groans as he felt the sensation of your phantom cunt squeezing and quivering around him. He smoothly uncrossed his legs, spreading his thighs in a deliciously dominant way and untied the string to his breeches to free his aching cock. Precum leaked from his tip as he lazily stroked his shaft.

“Touch her,” he ordered Haarlep. You grew somehow even wetter at his orders when his eyes never left you.

“As you wish,” you heard Haarlep’s voice sing out, his face just barely in your peripheral view. One of his hands moved from your hip to your most sensitive region, and you gasped loudly at the caress of your clit as he continued his hard thrusts.

At the sensation of your clit being touched and the pleasurable pounding you were taking, your knees lifted of their own accord to hold at Haarlep's hips. You could feel the bruises forming already from the ridges on his hips digging into your skin, yet that string inside of you wound tightly once more. You knew it wouldn’t take long for it to snap.

Your loud moans were music to Raphael’s ears as he stroked harder and tighter, his cock now glistening with an abundance of precum. He grunted before asking in a voice even lower and reverberant than before, “Do you wish to come, little mouse?”

“Yes, master,” you managed through your moans.

“And she calls you ‘master’,” Haarlep cooed at your use of the word. “What a delectable little mouse, indeed.”

Haarlep’s generous circling of your aching clit and deep rutting had you seeing stars. You could feel yourself on the cusp of your orgasm, and your thighs began to shake vigorously from holding it back. Raphael could see this, watching you teeter on that edge with a lick of his lips.

He waited, of course.

Pleasure turned into torture as you wailed, your fingers going numb from how tightly you were gripping the sheets. Your muscles grew taught with the exertion of holding in your orgasm.

You didn’t want to beg, but you couldn’t take it anymore. “Please, master!” you cried out, hot tears rolling down your cheeks.

When your cries of pleasure became pitiful sobs, Raphael finally relented.

“Go on then, pet. Come for me.”

With a strained moan, your back arched and your vision blurred as white hot pleasure flooded through you, ebbing through you in waves as Haarlep rode you through it, pounding so hard you could feel it bruise your cervix.

Your thighs twitched as your legs instinctively tried to close from the overstimulation of still being ravaged by the incubus, but Haarlep moved his hands to your knees to keep your legs pried open for him as he continued.

“Enough.” Raphael stood up from his chair as Haarlep stopped his movements, stilling himself inside of you and turned his head towards Raphael. “Up.”

You looked to Haarlep, and Haarlep glanced your way quickly to express his annoyance in having to stop before pulling himself off of you. You let out a soft whine as he pulled his cock out of you, feeling suddenly empty.

“You as well,” Raphael said, gesturing at your limp body.

You took in a deep breath and sat up, muscles already sore as you slinked off of the bed. When you stood up, your knees almost buckled beneath you, but you kept yourself up on trembling legs. He noticed, smirking to himself at your weakened state.

With another snap of his fingers, his clothes were gone, and you couldn’t help but stare at his naked form. You had seen it on Haarlep, but Haarlep’s form was a little less sharp than Raphael’s, with his slightly rounder jaw and softer nose. Raphael’s true naked form was enthralling, the divots and ridges on his body seeming sharper, more dangerous.

He took his place on the bed, leaning back against the headboard with a smug expression. He gestured to his cock, still erect and glistening with his precum.

You understood the silent command, climbing back onto the bed. You crawled on all fours towards him and took the opportunity to freely graze your hands up his muscular legs, touching as much skin as you could—as much skin as you were allowed to touch. Despite how rough the two fiends had been with you, your touch was adoring and gentle as your fingertips brushed over the ridges and protruding veins.

When Raphael's expression shifted from inquisitive to impatient, you took it as a cue to fulfill his desire and made your way to his lap to straddle his textured hips. You let your drenched folds glide over his shaft in a slight teasing manner, this being the only teasing you could sneak in before his hands seized the meat of your thighs to serve as a reminder of who was in charge.

You took the large member in your much smaller hand while your other hand landed on his broad chest for stability, and you slid the head of his cock down your slit to guide it towards your entrance. With a sharp breath, you pushed down onto him, still feeling sore from the previous pounding. When your hips landed against his with him fully sheathed, you took a moment to adjust to the sheer size of him yet again. Both of your hands on his chest now, feeling the slow rise and fall of his breathing, and he, in turn, gave your thighs an assertive squeeze to let you know he was done waiting.

Your pace was slow on weak thighs as you rocked yourself against him. But his cock nudging that soft spot deep in your core egged you on, giving you just enough energy to revitalize your need.

You let yourself fall against him, clinging to him and nestling your face in the warmth that was the crook of his neck as you chased that high once more. His hands moved to your waist, forcing you down harder against him, and you couldn't stop the whimpers tumbling past your lips, landing right in his ear.

You felt the bed dip in weight behind you, but you were too focused on the grind of your hips and the pleasure climbing in your core to pay any mind to it.

"What a naughty little pet," you heard Haarlep muse from behind you, but you didn't dare slow or stop your movements. Haarlep sat himself atop Rapahel's mid-thighs, planting himself right behind you, and you could feel his heat radiating onto your back.

"Some spittle, to prepare her," Raphael instructed through soft grunts, and Haarlep eagerly complied, deftly snaking a large hand around the column of your throat before suddenly prying you off of Raphael and pulling you back against him.

Then Haarlep took his turn devouring your lips. His kiss was much more gentle than Raphael's, and you couldn’t help but melt into his touch. Your hips ground down harder against Raphael as Haarlep beckoned your lips open with a swipe of his tongue. The second your lips parted for him, his tongue was barging into your mouth, stroking your tongue with tender licks.

When the saliva seeping down your throat made you reactively gulp, you felt your insides light up with an energy that could only be described as carnal lust in its most calamitous form. Electricity seeped into every fiber of your being, tingling all the way down to your fingers and toes. Every muscle in your body ached for sex, more and more sex until it consumed you whole.

Subconsciously, your pace atop Raphael quickened. Your moans, muffled by Haarlep's mouth on yours, heightened in pitch and intensity. Arousal pooled beneath you, leaking onto Raphael's skin and aiding your gliding atop his hips.

Raphael leaned forward, greedily taking a nipple into his mouth while his other hand groped at your other breast roughly. Your hands flew to his head, your fingers digging into his soft hair as you pulled him further against you. You practically mewled when his hot tongue ran over the bud, letting his sharpened teeth scratch your sensitive skin as he sucked.

Your core felt dangerously aflame with a mounting pleasure surging through every inch of your body. Haarlep released your lips, eyes burning into yours to watch his spittle work its magic on you. With his hand still on your throat, his other hand tickled the skin along your spine as it snuck down your back.

In your haze of primal desire, you almost didn't notice Haarlep's fingers swipe at the puddle of your own wetness beneath you, until you felt those fingers smear the slick over your unused hole. Still holding his stare, your eyes widened at the realization of what the next act of your "torrid affair" truly was.

Raphael intended to stuff you full of two cocks, both of which he would be feeling inside of you.

Your mouth dropped open, attempting to stutter out any protest you could think of in the moment, but your words—or lack thereof—were cut short by the hand around your throat quickly moving up. Your jaw was abruptly encapsulated by Haarlep's large hand, muffling any noise you could make.

"Hush now," his voice rumbled in your ear, sending more tingles down your spine. Your labored breathing through your nostrils sounded loud against his hand. "Don't you want to be a good little mouse for your master?"

At the word, Raphael released your breasts, paying his full attention to the interaction between you and Haarlep. You felt him pull away, and your frantic eyes locked with his in a silent plea. You had never had any lovers use that particular hole; you weren't ready for it to be intruded upon.

But the spittle in your veins begged for more.

The tip of Haarlep's cock pressed into the tight ring of muscle, and the feeling was... strange, to say the least. You never used this hole in any pursuits of passion, you never thought to. It was uncomfortable, but the member still being coated in your slick made it easier to take.

The stretch as he pushed in farther burned more than it did in your cunt, and low, pained moans slipped past your lips in response, still muffled by Haarlep's hand.

You stilled your movements, unable to continue grinding with this new sensation distracting you. Your inner walls throbbed around the two cocks, and you could feel the sweat covering your skin, spurred on by the heat of the two infernal bodies surrounding you. With your eyes still on Raphael's, your chest heaved with deep, ragged breaths.

"It seems our little thief needs some aid," Raphael said, his voice more gravelly than before. He removed his hands from your waist, allowing Haarlep's hands to take his place, and you sucked in a sharp breath the second your mouth was freed.

"Sing for us, little mouse," Haarlep whispered in your ear before he forced you down by the waist, plunging the two cocks deep into you.

You shrieked at the pain, and tears gathered in the corners of your eyes. The stretch, the burning, the stinging; it was too much. But you were not granted a moment of reprieve when Haarlep effortlessly lifted you and shoved you down repeatedly.

The spittle in your system felt like a godsend now, easing the pain and turning it into a plethora of pleasure as the ridged cocks ground together with the only barrier between them being your slick inner walls. You continued to wail, it being the only sound your used, feeble body could make.

Your eyelids fluttered, struggling to stay open as your vision blurred from your tears.

But Raphael would not allow your eyes to close. He wiped the sweat-soaked strands of hair from your face before gripping your jaw with a grip that almost crumbled the bone.

"Eyes. On. Me."

The dam finally broke, and the tears leaked down your face inn warm streams as you blubbered, "I- I can't. T-too much."

He laughed coldly in your face, his broad chest bouncing with the deep chuckle. "Thieves must be punished, dear. Is this not a merciful punishment? Would you rather I skin you? Maim you, hm? Make you bleed?"

You sobbed, your body shaking. You couldn't even tell if it was cries of pleasure or cries of terror; you were too far gone as the devil and his incubus abused your frail, mortal body.

That familiar string winding tight in your lower belly once more was the hint that it was, in fact, cries of immense pleasure, the kind of body-wrecking pleasure that you could never experience with another mortal soul.

Raphael could feel you tightening around him, and the sight of his favorite little misadventurer, his dearest thief, falling apart so beautifully under his claws...

This image of you would make the most wonderful painting to adorn his grand halls.

Haarlep felt it too, and his response to it was to quicken his forceful pace of shoving you down on him and Raphael. His hold on you was so tight that his claws dug into your sides, and small beads of blood trickled down your sweaty skin, not that you even noticed in the moment.

The rapidity of being shoved on two cocks and the pressure of them digging into every soft spot inside of you had you racing towards a powerful orgasm. You could see in Raphael eye's that he was near his own end with his quick grunts and heaving chest. His hold on your jaw loosened and changed to a gentle holding of your chin, keeping your teary eyes on him throughout all of this, while his other hand sought out your clit once more. He wanted to feel you come apart.

And come apart, you did.

With one last wail, a tsunami of blindingly hot pleasure surged through you, sending every nerve into overdrive. Your walls squeezed the two cocks tightly, and every continual shove down on them resurged the bliss until your body was convulsing.

The squeeze of your cunt and sound of your cries pulled his orgasm out of Raphael, and his lips parted. In a chorus of low and sultry noises, you felt him and Haarlep come inside of you in tandem, the molten heat of infernal seed filling up both of your holes.

When they finally stilled, Haarlep released his grip on your waist, and you instantly keeled over, landing against Raphael's chest with a barely-audible whine. You were exhausted, out of breath, and slick with sweat and a faint amount of your own blood.

Raphael's breathing returned to a normal pace almost immediately, and you listened to the heavy beat of his steady heart to ground yourself back to reality. He let you lay on him for a moment and stroked your hair rather gently, unusual considering how cruel he tended to be.

Haarlep noticed this, eyeing his master with a suspicious gaze. Has the devil gone soft for a mere mortal, and a thieving one no less?

Raphael motioned to dismiss Haarlep with a wave of his hand, not even giving the incubus the dignity of a verbal dismissal.

Haarlep pulled out of you, his seed spilling out of your used hole. A whine hitched in your throat at the motion as you tried to control your breathing. He slipped off of the bed and gave Raphael one last mischievous glance before disappearing in a quick haze of sparkling flames.

Once you were alone with Raphael, his hand reached for your face, lifting your head up to meet your tired eyes. “You did very well, little mouse. You’ve proven time and time again to be far more resilient than I originally gave you credit for.”

Your arms trembled as you lifted yourself off of his chest. All of the doubt and fear you had tucked away when the pleasure rolled in came flooding back. “What’s going to happen to me?”

He smirked at your nervousness. He twirled a strand of hair around his finger while he murmured with his smooth, deep voice, "You will rest in the House of Hope tonight, little thief. And tomorrow, you will be back on the road with your merry band of misfits. I still need the Crown, and how very lucky for you that I still have your contract."

The contract. The very item you were caught stealing. You were still merely a pawn in his overarching game of chess, but he was right.

How lucky for you that your services were still needed.

#bg3 raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #bg3 smut #bg3 haarlep

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neyafromfrance95 · 1 month ago

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my thoughts on haladriel in ep8:

they chickened out a bit bc they 100% wanted to convey that sauron loves galadriel and she is the only light in his life, the light that he in fact worships, but it was maybe too subtle, too subtextual. and if this ending meant that galadriel suddenly fully overcame her darkness, well, that'd be a very rushed, weak development.

let me explain why i believe they wanted to show sauron's feelings for galadriel bordering love and obsession:

during the fight, sauron says that not all of it was an illusion. the expression on his face as he says it is genuine and melancholic. his longing is clear. and right after he says it, we see him as halbrand repeating that he felt connection with her, meaning that it was the truth.

he looks hopeful when he says that her door is still open to him and loses it when she tells him it's shut. now i don't think that it's actually shut yet as he talks to her through their mind connection as he asks for the ring (whether her fall meant shutting the door is going to be answered in s3).

"the door is still open" also suggests that his proposal is still active, and the hopeful, almost desperate look on his face as he says it, tells us a lot. it also recontextualizes what "the door" means in their relationship.

he plays with her, showing her illusions of her dark self, reminding her how alike they are. illusion!celebrimbor's line "are they not the seeds you've planted" proves that it was him who sent her those visions in the beginning. again, guilt-bonding her to himself.

"i would have placed a crown upon your head. i would never have rested until all middle-earth had been brought to its knees, to worship the light of its queen." he is earnest when he says it, and then there is this feral predatory look of want. it shows how he covets whatever he sees in her. i really loved the wording of "worship the light of its queen" as the shippers have been describing his coveting as the "worship of the light".

AGAIN, HE WANTS TO BRING ALL MIDDLE-EARTH TO ITS KNEES TO WORSHIP GALADRIEL, THEIR QUEEN EQUAL TO SAURON, AS HE WORSHIPS HER LIGHT HIMSELF. this part is essential in understanding sauron's feelings for galadriel and it's straight out of our fanons.

after she jumps, he loses it again and takes it out on his poor subordinate orc. rip. we can see him standing there and looking down while breathing heavily for longer than necessary.

yeah, he wounds her with the crown. but we don't know what he would have done with her had she given him the ring. honestly, if it was anyone else, they'd be dead the moment he saw nenya + the nine. the chickening out element plays in the way his intentions are vague, as he clearly doesn't want to hurt her and wants her to willingly give in, but ofc the evil sauron can't be too gray, he has to be dark dark.

subtextually, nenya is galadriel, him being transfixed with nenya tells us of his obsession with galadriel's light. i love when the stories employ subtext to say what the text can't eloquently, but in this case, they're employing it bc they got no guts.

his whole demeanor with her is completely different from how he presents himself with others. he plays with her as a predator with its pray, but he is being honest and raw. his anger is personal and the hints of delight when he greets her for the fist time - sincere.

the fight itself was as hot as it was violent. sorry not sorry. true dead dove enemies enjoyers still won. i stand by my opinion that this fight scene is the hottest thing in this show. when he pins her and pierces her with that crown, penetrating her flesh, and keeps pushing in as he tells her he wanted her as his queen to worship with a soft expression painted over his face, and then he looks at her as if he wants to violently devour her, eat her whole? yeah. that was er0tic.

i honestly am not sure where they will go with this. will the audience demand for more haladriel influence s3? it depends on whether the door is still open, and i think it is, and maybe sauron is going to get even more obsessed with possessing nenya(=galadriel)? i'm more worried that they will give in to the incelbro demand of watering galadriel down and simplifying her. so i hope her struggle with the darkness is not over yet. it felt like it was but if sauron starts to break into her mind more frequently, then it might not be the case. the fact that galadriel stops attacking him when he transforms into halbrand also indicates that she loves halbrand, and maybe will always love him no matter how she feels about sauron.

#sauron x galadriel #haladriel #saurondriel #the rings of power #sauron #galadriel #trop #galadriel x halbrand #rings of power

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cloudzoro · 3 months ago

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Hi! Could you do 12 and 14 with Killer? I love your work so much, it's so good and I love reading it!!! <3333

omg yes!!! I love killer so much (I've been so into the kid pirates recently 🤭) (12 - size kink, 14 - soft sex)

cw: fem!reader

Devotion (Killer x Reader)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Killer kneels above you, giving you a moment to appreciate his stature before leaning down and attaching his mouth to your neck, pressing kisses and licking the skin there.

“Pretty Girl,” he says, large hands digging into your hips. He continues his path down your body, decorating your skin with kisses and flowery words. He listens to your gasps and moans, paying extra attention to the spots that make you moan the loudest.

When he finally reaches between your legs, his strong arms hold your legs apart so that he can work his tongue into your hole and lick at your walls. You can tell he's enjoying himself, moaning and growling against you as he licks and sucks at your clit. His tongue has your legs shaking with the force of pleasure. He works you over thoroughly, making sure you're drooling for his cock. Killer is weak to your voice. If you ask for his cock now, then he'll give it to you. If you ask him to stay down there and make you cum with his tongue then he would willingly do so.

“Kil, please”, You whine, fingers threading through his hair to grip and pull him from between your legs. He's strong enough, big enough, to overpower you, but he lets you guide him to your lips.

“What do you want from me, sweet girl?” he asks, breathlessly getting the words out between kisses. You can taste yourself on his tongue when you lick into his mouth. You're so caught up in that you almost forget to answer his question until he gently cradles your face in his hands and pulls you away from his face. He smiles, endeared by the way you try to kiss him again. He's tried to be stern with you, but he just can't bring himself to; he's too in love with you.

“I want your cock so bad,” you say.

“You got it, baby,” he says, sitting up on his knees. He pulls his cock from his boxers and gently rocks his hips, sliding his cock through your pussy lips and coating it in your juices.

He double-checks with you before lining himself up and gently pushing himself in. The stretch has you crying out, reaching up to grab onto his broad shoulders. If your fingertips digging into his back bother him, he doesn't show it. He coos at you, pressing soft kisses to the side of your face as he eases himself inside you.

“so big”, you whine, attempting to roll your hips with the limited space between the two of you.

“Yeah, but you can take it, can't you?” he asks, his low and gravelly voice making you clench around him as you nod at his question. When he finally bottoms out, he pauses for a moment, both to let you adjust and to admire you.

“I love you, baby,” he says, leaning in to kiss you as he finally starts moving. You think any pussy must feel good around a cock like his, but he insists that yours is special and only you can make him feel this good. He makes you feel so loved; with a moniker like his, you would never have expected him to be as devoted as he is. The stretch of his cock and the promises on his lips have you ascending to a higher plane of existence.

“I love you too,” you whine as he picks up his thrusts, intent on making you cum harder than he ever has before.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

tag list: @bloodfixnd @sexysapphicshopowner @beachaddict48

taglist is always open!

#one piece smut #one piece x reader #killer one piece #massacre soldier killer #killer x reader #op killer x reader

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pastanest · 2 years ago

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if you’re wondering why I’m having to repost this, or why you were perhaps previously following me but no longer are, please refer to this post. I was able to retrieve this thanks to the very lovely friends who have relentlessly sifted through tumblr archives to recover them, thank you all so much!! ♡

LOTR Characters - His Favourite Thing About You

Thranduil

Your heart. You have always thought with your heart more than your head, with feeling rather than logic, and although this has caused you some problems in the past, it has never dealt the pain that cruel logic is capable of, which the King is all too familiar with. As an elf, he’s rather emotionally reserved, and your open love for the world around you renders him speechless. You love so willingly and so joyously, without fear of appearing soft or weak, and it is your heart that drives your every action, including defending those around you. It’s because of you that the King begins to understand the purpose of kindness, he realises the affect that your kindness has on him, and he wants to be the bringer of that same bliss to others. When Thranduil falls in love with you, your heart teaches him more than he could have possibly imagined.

Legolas

Your sense of adventure. From the moment he met you, he recognised your scatty nature and your constant craving for adventure and travel. He yearned to feel the same freedom in the world that you did, but he worried for his responsibilities as a prince and allowed them to hold him back. It was you that eased his nerves, and showed him how to enjoy even the smallest adventures. Through that, Legolas formed the courage and desperation for bigger adventures, and with you by his side, he felt like he could go anywhere in Middle-earth and still be at home, because that is what you became. The two of you travelled far and wide for more years than you could count, and you gifted Legolas with the most precious thing he could ever receive: freedom.

Frodo

Your protectiveness. During his time with The Fellowship, you came across as a quiet person who joined the party simply to help complete the task more efficiently. However, Frodo soon noticed your protectiveness over him when you threw yourself in front of him and acted as his shield in the first attack you experienced with him. After that, every other time Frodo was in danger, you were the first person to act, and protect. He appreciated your protectiveness in those scenarios of course, but what meant more to him was your less violent protection that occurred when others spoke cruelly or condescendingly towards him, you were always quick to defend him. To begin with, Frodo tricked himself into thinking that you were protecting the ring, and not him, but over time you proved to him that the burden he carried was only a concern of yours in regard to the pain it caused him. And in return of such fierce protection, Frodo gave you his heart.

Samwise

Your selflessness. It didnt take Sam very long to recognise the trait that you share with him, but the extent of your selflessness, especially when in The Fellowship, was on another plain of existence. No matter when it was, if a member of The Fellowship was in need of anything, whether it be food, water, or aid, you would be there in an instant to provide them with exactly that, by whatever means you could. The sheer number of times you lost hours of sleep in order to care for someone was astonishing to Sam, and it wasnt until you tended to a wound of his that he realised just how lovely you really were. You never showed even a flicker of irritation towards those who had disturbed your sleep, you presented them only with kindness. On the first occasion that you were injured, you pleaded with The Fellowship that you were in perfect health and didnt need their help, and Sam was the only person that could resist your stubbornness. He promised you then that if you werent going to care for yourself, he would spend the rest of his life doing it for you.

Aragorn

Your persistence. You are never one to accept defeat unless you have tried absolutely everything you possibly could have done to avoid it, and this extends to every area of your life. When Aragorn first met you, his mysterious nature didnt scare you as it did most, instead it enticed you, and from the moment you began talking to him, he became the most wonderful puzzle to you. At first, Aragorn mistook your persistence for stubbornness, because he thought that your continued pursuit of him was goalless, which made your only motivation one of spite. Over time, though, he realised that your goal was something he had not anticipated, and it had began to work before he had time to reinforce his defences; you had succeeded in opening his heart to you. It was your persistence that granted him freedom from the isolation he had forced upon himself, and even before he was completely free, he knew that he had found an angel for a soulmate. If it hadnt been for your persistence, he could have risked an eternity with a lonely heart. You saving him from that as a result of your resistance against defeat, has made him eternally grateful for the trait in you that transcends the simple bounds of stubbornness.

#aragorn x reader #legolas x reader #thranduil x reader #frodo baggins x reader #samwise gamgee x reader #aragorn #legolas #thranduil #frodo baggins #samwise gamgee #lord of the rings #lotr #x reader #imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction

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bonny-kookoo · 1 year ago

Note

THE FOOD IS SO FRICKING GOOD TODAY. MOTHER THANK YOU 😩 but im still craving dessert 🥺

What cruel mother would I be not to feed my children?

You weren't necessarily ever sure what kind of.. lover he might be. Ever since you've started seeing him in a more romantic sense that is. There was never a clear way of telling what he might be like- but it seems like he's finally giving you true proof as to what you've gotten yourself in with him.

He's biting you. Actively marking, leaving the first traces of his claim on you, and it shows that he might be more possessive than you'd thought.

He's already pulled off your shorts, hand inside your underwear as he smirks against your neck. "So desperate." He hums lowly, a purr rumbling in his voice as he runs his fingers through your clear arousal, before be pulls off your panties.

"Yoongi!" You gasp out as he throws your legs over his shoulders, pulling you closer. "Ple-"

"No, you'll wait." He demands, well aware what you're gonna ask. "I've waited way too long to have my fill." He argues, before his mouth is on you, eyes focusing on your reaction as your back arches off the bed.

He knows you can't cum from this. He knows this will only fuel your desire. He knows it'll make you desperate.

It's exactly what he wants.

Not just for himself- but for you. You need to let go for once, clear your head, shut off all thoughts and just let something happen. You might act all carefree and without any worry all the time, but he knows how tense you always are. You always expect the worst, you're awfully suspicious of even yourself, and he doesn't want that anymore.

He wants you to only lean on him, let him lead, let him do the heavy lifting. He's here to take care of you, after all. Return the favor, so to speak.

Because you've helped him so much, and you don't even know it.

"Yoongi, I cant-" you finally break, hands lifting to hide your face as you feel the tears knock on the doors to your eyes. You hate this. You hate being vulnerable, you hate feeling like there's nothing you can do to change things.

"You're fine." He speaks suddenly purring loudly against your neck before he pulls his shirt you're wearing over your head. "Give up." He chuckles, and you growl weakly. "I said-" he demands, one of his palm rather roughly grabbing at your chest. "-give up." He commands, before he bites down your neck,

Hard.

And in this moment, you realize it. It's not a bad thing. Because it's him who's asking this of you. And if it's Yoongi-

You'll be fine.

He won't hurt you.

He won't use you.

He won't toss you away after this.

Almost instantly he notices the change in your body and mind, the way you purr and your hands leave your face to instead hold onto him instead. Figuratively and literally.

"There we go." He praises, finally also shedding his clothes as he makes sure to give you the feeling of security you'll need in this state. He feels pride in watching you fall into his hands like that, willingly offering yourself to him like you do right now.

You don't notice anything he does for a moment, not until he's finally, fucking finally pushing himself inside you, filling you up, not only physically, but emotionally too as he kisses you, hands on your body both firm and affectionate, holding you close, making sure you know he won't let go.

There's no clear words leaving your mouth anymore as you simply take it all in, his hips never too soft or weak, everything perfect in your little world as he finally feeds your lust and need for love.

Because that's what he also gives you.

Love.

Even as he grabs at your thighs, pushing you closer against him, his hips snapping into yours rather roughly, there's a sense of love in it. Like he's equally desperate to show and make you understand how he feels for you.

"Can't shut up even now." He jokes while you whimper desperately, hands grabbing the sheets and back arching off the bed as you try and reach your final high. "Hm?" He tries, reaching out to technically only touch your bottom lip that's all red from biting it, when an idea comes into his mind.

And once his middle and ring finger place themselves on your tongue, his eyes sharpen at the sight of you willingly letting him open your mouth, before you wrap your lips around them, tongue moving in a way that makes him aware of what you're trying to make him understand.

And he can't wait for it, but right now, his priority is you, not himself, and not his fantasies.

It's sudden when your high approaches, and you especially see stars once his fingers leave your mouth and instead effortlessly flick your most sensitive nerves right above your entrance where he pushes his length in and out of. You know the noises you make must be pornographic almost-

But you don't care.

And neither does Yoongi himself, as he growls out, leaning over you and pulling you close as he finishes himself as well.

And for a moment, it's quiet, only your heavy breaths filling the room, before the sounds of outside the halfway opened window bleed back into your consciousness.

You barely notice him getting up to discard his condom and grab some wet wipes to clean you up, before he sits on the bed with his back towards you, typing something on his phone for a second.

It makes you reach out, finger dragging down his spine before it reaches the base of..

His tail.

But he doesn't seem to stiffen up at all, simply let's you, opens himself up fully to you, it seems, as he simply looks over his shoulder a bit-

A glimpse of insecurity in his eyes, as he waits for your reaction, well aware that you now know not only what it looks like, but that you probably also noticed why it looks like this.

And as you hug him, purr against his back, he knows it's not out of simple pity. It's more than love. It's more than just affection.

It's acceptance.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #hybrid imagine #bts smut #yoongi imagine #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff

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3terna15unshin3 · 1 year ago

Text

gave me no compasses, gave me no signs

2 of 6 ★ 6013 words

previous — masterlist — next

— warnings: none

The three weeks you have before your move absolutely fly by like no time at all. And so does your friends’ state of shock when the words ‘New York’ first left your mouth. It barely lingers before celebration continues and you party the whole night away.

Avni ends up getting a cake, like she promised, and decks the boy’s flat out in obnoxious Poundland decor. Ross stands on a chair to hang streamers from the ceiling. You drink cheap wine, smoke some more, and everyone shares the cake by each taking your own forks to it, instead of cutting it into slices.

At one point you’re so drunk that you willingly pose for a photo. It happens when Greta passes out on the sofa, and Hann and George take it upon themselves to smear cake all over her face. It makes you giggle like a toddler—the fact that they somehow did it without waking her—and you laugh until you cry, belly completely sore. You hand your camera over to Matty, telling him to capture you pointing at the sleepy, icing-covered Gret with tears spilling out of the corners of your eyes.

He isn’t sure why you find it so funny but your laugh makes him laugh and he loses it when watching you through the viewfinder. He clicks through the previews once he’s done taking them, grinning with adoration at the pure joy on your face, thankful for the rare occasion that it’ll appear on your memory card.

For a second, he forgets that you’re moving. But then, he remembers again, and downs more wine to forget for a bit longer.

It’s a completely bittersweet feeling. You feel their genuine happiness for you and your success; no trace of envy or doubt. They’re your biggest supporters. But underneath, there’s an inevitable sadness surrounding your departure, and the clock only ticks louder and louder as the number of days until your flight departs continues to dwindle.

The sadness feels realer when your last weekend in Manchester comes around and you realise that it’s the last gig you’ll be in town for. Your camera’s in hand, like always, and you act normal—but the drinks you have before the boys go on stage taste too strong, or maybe too weak. The collar on your shirt keeps poking at your ear and you consider asking the bartender if he has a pair of scissors to cut it off. Maybe you’ll ask him to cut your ear off too, while he’s at it.

You’re not sure what’s wrong, at first. But then you just realise that you’re just really sad.

Avni can tell that you’re having a bit of a moment. She wraps her arm around your shoulder and leans her head into yours. Gret notices, taking her hand and giving yours a squeeze with it. You smile, and lower your camera to try and stay grounded. There are thousands of photos you’ve taken and will take in the future—but only one moment like this.

The stare you usually chase while the band performs—the one belonging to Matty—is the one to find yours first, for once. You melt instantly when it lingers. His eyebrows raise for a second, to acknowledge your eye contact, and the corners of his mouth tug upwards into a smile.

To Matty, it feels like a privilege to be perceived by you without your camera obstructing the attention. Sure, you never photograph for the full show, frequently watching and dancing freely without your device. And you look at him plenty when he isn’t performing.

But this feels different. He feels you seeing him. Knowing him. Not looking, or watching. Something that couldn’t be captured. So, he doesn’t look away. He holds your gaze until the song ends, only breaking it to adjust the capo on the neck of his guitar and start the next song.

The stare makes a lightbulb go off in his mind.

There’s suddenly a lull of silence. Matty chats to George for a couple of seconds instead of continuing the set. It was bizarre, and your eyes flicker between each of the boys to figure out what’s going on. The curly headed boy turns to each member individually when they’re about to start, and stalls even longer.

He eventually approaches his microphone again. “We’ve just decided to switch things up a bit,” Matty explains. “This is a new one. Sorry if it sounds rubbish, we don’t really have the right equipment to play it well. But I hope you like it.”

You see Ross mumble something back in his direction, and then Matty laughs and quickly says, “Ross has just corrected me and said that we’ve not decided to switch things up, I have. Which is true,” with a chuckle. The people listening laugh quietly with him.

Droning chords from Adam’s keyboard sound through the air. Ross’s bass kicks in, supporting the melody from beneath, and George taps calmly at his kit. It’s slow. You don’t recognise it.

Now, Matty’s looking at you again. You and the girls stand at the front of the crowd, as always, but tucked away and off to the right. He’s been staring from his place in the centre of the stage; so your eyes slightly widen when Matty detaches his mic from its stand so he can move freely. He passes Ross to settle directly in front of you.

“What time are you coming out?”

He stumbles the lyrics out of his mouth rhythmically and all you can think about is the way his lips move as the music progresses.

“Don’t you see me? I

I think I’m falling

I’m falling for you,”

You notice that he stays unusually still. The song has an undeniable melancholy that strays from their rather frenetic catalogue. He seems focused.

“Don’t you need me? I

I think I’m falling

I’m falling for you,”

It takes you an embarrassingly long amount of time to realise that Matty isn’t just still and focused because it’s a new song. He’s still and focused on you. And he isn’t looking at you, he’s singing to you.

“Soon you will be mine, oh

But I want you now.

I want you now,”

The venue you stand in is bigger than the normal pubs the band usually books, so its stage is elevated, and as Matty keeps singing, he crouches into a squat. He’s now only inches from your face, eye-to-eye with you. You feel his breath on your skin.

“I don’t want to be your friend

I want to kiss your neck,”

You’re not sure if you’re breathing or if your lungs are stuck in place. It feels like the latter.

At first you refuse to break his regard, but when you see it begin to dart all around your face, you copy him. He watches the way your eyelashes come together every time you blink, and how the dryness of your lips increases as you breathe out of your mouth. A few of your eyebrow hairs stick up and sit unruly from always being scrunched against the cold metal of your camera.

Meanwhile, you follow his left hand with your eyes when the back of it drags across his bottom lip. There’s nothing there to wipe, but he completes the action anyway. The bridge of his nose and the skin between his eyes wrinkle when his brows furrow, to reach a certain note.

“I think I'm falling, I'm falling for you

On this night

and in this light,”

He sounds amazing. You’re hypnotised by his words and how they sound. His commitment to studying every inch of your face as he sings them makes you consider the possibility of them being about you.

But who are you kidding? Of course they’re about you.

Even if you suddenly forgot how to speak English, or had never met him in your life, or hated the song—Matty’s eyes tell you exactly what he means to say.

He thinks he’s falling.

The music comes to a stop and applause roars from the audience. Gret and Avni stand with their mouths agape, clapping with limply shocked hands. They take turns looking between you and Matty in an attempt to even begin to understand what had just happened. The boys watch in content amusement from their respective spots. But you and Matty don’t move.

Then, he reaches for your hand. It fits into his nicely, but it’s cold and a bit clammy. He says your name and waits for you to say something, but you come to learn that you can’t hear anything at all. Your ears are too full and too muffled but are also ringing with emptiness. The lights brighten and don’t help your sudden circuit overload.

You’re overwhelmed with the way Matty is still looking at you, knowing you, what it means, what it will feel like to leave, why he keeps looking at your mouth, the way his hand felt in yours, how long you’ve been dying for it to be there—and how you could possibly say anything worthy.

Then, all you feel is sorry. You’re sorry that you don’t have a song, or the words, or any idea of what you’re feeling or have ever felt or will ever feel. Because what you feel is so enormous. It’s suddenly catastrophic, and you’re lost in its density.

Your lungs definitely are stuck in place, as you feared.

So you drop his hand. Finally breathe. And you get out as quickly as you can.

—

There’s a couple days of silence between you and Matty. As much as it hurts you, and you’re sure it hurts him, there’s a million other things on your mind and that you have to do before you leave, so you’re too busy to contemplate what happened at the gig any further.

You work your final shift at Cafe North, and then your parents come over from Macclesfield to take the belongings that can’t come with you. They’re going to store all of it at their house, just so the girls don’t have to deal with it. You wonder if Greta and Avni will look for a new roommate while you’re gone, or if they’ll just split your portion of the rent; and secretly hope they choose the latter, as unreasonable as it is.

They don’t mention Matty to you either, which surprises you. You guess they can sense your commitment to avoidance and decide to respect that. You’re not sure what they think, or if they know what Matty thinks. Any time they tell you that they’re heading over to the boys’ flat, or whenever you get a message from Hann or George or Ross that invites you to join, you politely decline.

You do the same when they offer to assist with your move. You apologise profusely, saying that you’re swamped, and explain that your mum and dad are plenty of help. Which they know is true, so they tell you not to worry and that they don’t mind.

But you do worry, and you know that they do mind. They want to spend as much time with you as possible before they can’t anymore, and you’re getting in the way of that.

You’re thankful that your parents don’t ask about the band, or the guys, so that you don’t have to spend time explaining it to them. They’ve known the whole group fairly well since you became friends in secondary school, but they don’t tend to ask about your personal life much at all. For once, you find their emotional distance quite soothing.

It’s now the morning they’re scheduled to head back home, and your mother takes one last look at your room to see if there’s anything else they should take. You look around with her, explaining that most of the items she asks about will be coming to New York with you.

“Even this?” Your father asks, lifting a plastic baggie that sits in front of your closet. It looks quite out of place, so you don’t blame him for asking, but you know what its contents are.

“Yeah, that’s staying here. I think I should be alright with the rest,” you confirm.

So, they pack all of your shit into the boot of their car, and bid you goodbye. Their eyes are dry and their smiles are the same ones they show every Christmas when you come home and then subsequently leave again. It’s another Wednesday for them, you guess, and their nonchalant response to you moving across the world wasn’t anything unexpected.

Your eyes, on the other hand, grow a bit damp. You blink quickly to prevent any tears from falling. But, you don’t feel particularly sad to see them leave.

The way you mutter a ‘See you soon’ and watch them drive away just makes you realise that it’s the first of your many goodbyes.

—

The crinkled bag that your dad mentions has a quilted blanket in it. It’s Matty’s.

A couple of months ago, you were up late at the guys’ flat to sort out your memory card. He was helping decide what photos were best for promotion or to put on potential merchandise and which could be deleted. It was supposed to take an hour at most, but you’d gotten sidetracked (and then way too high), going through years and years worth of pictures. For no particular reason, really. Nostalgia, maybe.

You stayed for so long that the two of you woke up the next morning—necks sore from sleeping on the sofas—and you were far too tired to unwrap the blanket from your body before heading back to your flat.

It’s been sitting in the corner of your room since then. Realistically, you’re sure that Matty hasn’t even noticed its absence. But after sitting in the emptiness of your once fruitful room, and thinking about the fact that tonight would be the last time you see the whole group together before leaving; you makeup your mind. You should talk to Matty.

So, you walk down with the blanket in hand and give the door a knock. George answers.

“Y/N!” He says excitedly. “What’s up? We’re not late, are we? I thought we agreed for 7—”

“We did,” you interrupt before he can continue worrying, “I just wanted to talk, you know. To Matty. He’s here, right?”

George’s eyes fill with understanding, and he mutters a quiet ‘Oh’. Then he nods his head, and flicks it into the direction of his room, telling you wordlessly where you can find him. He stands to the side as you step in and make your way.

You knock gently. “It’s me. Can I come in?”

Matty recognises your voice immediately, but is surprised to hear it. He nearly thinks he’s just imagined it and that it’s actually Ross at his door or something, but when he yells, “Go ahead,” and sees you open the door, he confirms that he isn’t losing it. It’s actually you.

You look stressed, and tired. He guesses that you probably are stressed and tired. There’s a dullness to your skin, and your hair hasn’t been washed in a few days, but Matty still looks at you with wonderment. Your eyes are welcoming, like they always are, and he feels relieved to see them after the days that have passed without having the privilege.

He wants to spring out of bed and pull you in for a hug, take back everything he’s done, ask you to forget about it, and beg for things to go back to normal—how they used to be. But he knows he can’t, and shouldn’t, and that making things go back to normal isn’t what he really wants. So after you enter and close the door behind you, he lets you speak first.

“This is yours.” Your arm stretches out to drop the blanket onto his bed, where he sat. He looks at it, and chuckles.

“Sure you don’t want to take it with you?” There’s a teasing and sarcastic tone in his voice that makes you smile out of habit.

“I’ve stuffed my bags to the brim, so no.” You admit.

He doesn’t say anything back, so the room goes quiet. It’s actually a bit awkward. You’re still standing, too scared to sit down with him and too stubborn to exit and bail. I probably should have thought of something to say, you consider internally.

Thankfully, after a prolonged silence, Matty’s voice slices through it.

“You’ve always known that you’d choose New York, huh?”

You’re confused, wondering why he’s asking about that instead of his weekend serenade. But you finally fathom that in the wake of your internship news, there’s something else on his mind.

He’s the only one who sees through your lie.

You nod, not knowing what else to say. “How’d you know?”

He taps the spot on his bed next to him, inviting you to sit. You oblige with timidness.

“Because you’re my best friend and I know you, Y/N. I know that you’re too uptight to apply for an internship without knowing everything about it, let alone decide to move across the world on a whim.” Matty explains, exasperated, and seemingly a bit frustrated. “I also know that you’re probably blaming how uptight you are on the fact that you’re a Virgo, which drives me up the wall.”

You have to stifle a smile when he mentions your interest in astrology, but feel a bit deflated at the fact that he thinks you’re uptight—though you know that he has a point. He knows you better than you think he does. It makes you feel worse.

Before you can respond, Matty starts again. “Why’d you lie this whole time?”

“I was scared. I still am,” you try to explain, “I had this thought that nobody would believe I’d have it in me or secretly be relieved that I’ll be gone. London just seemed like a safer bet. Less embarrassing if I failed,”

You search the look on his face for any hints of anger. Thankfully, you don’t find any, but you don’t find much happiness either.

“We’d never be relieved for you to go, are you insane?” He remarks.

“A bit, probably.” You joke, and Matty laughs quietly. It’s a harmonious sound. His mouth falls back into a straight line afterwards.

“I honestly thought I’d get rejected and then wouldn’t have to explain myself. Then of course they had to go on and want me,” you continue, trying to make light of his stern expression. It doesn’t work. “I’m sorry for lying. I wish I didn’t.” You finish quietly.

He fiddles with the loose stitching of the blanket you’ve just returned, then his eyes find yours.

“Did you not like the song?”

There it is. The thing you came to discuss.

Shockingly, Matty asking the dreaded question didn’t feel as scary as you anticipate. He just seems absolutely desperate to know your answer.

“Don’t be stupid, Matty. Of course I liked it.” You respond.

He softens momentarily but then furrows his brows.

“Don’t call me stupid. I have every right to think that you hated it after you ran away and ignored me for days.” Matty argues.

Guilt washes over you. You try and figure out why you even did it—how you could possibly let him believe anything that wasn’t the truth. He wrote you a song, and you dropped his hand.

“I ran away because I think I’m falling too.”

Matty let his heart flutter for a second. “Do you hear how confusing that sounds?”

“Yeah, I do. And I feel terrible. But I felt like everything was crashing down on me,” You explain. You swallow what feels like a toad in your throat.

“You see—that’s the difference,” starts Matty, “Singing that song to you made me float.”

“It was amazing, Matty. I think we were both floating. Nothing else mattered to me but you, for those couple of minutes. But then I came back down to Earth,” It becomes difficult to hold his gaze, so you look at your hands. “The panic I felt afterwards was just an amalgamation of everything changing and how afraid it made me, you know? I’m so sorry that I took that out on you. I opted for saying nothing instead of risking saying the wrong thing,” you ramble.

When you look up at him again, a soft smile floods his face. Something makes you think it’s a smile of forgiveness, but you aren’t sure. There’s still a hint of heartache in his stare.

“You could have said anything. It’s easy to at least say something,” he says.

“Maybe it’s easy for you.” You defend.

It is easy, on the other hand, for you to stare at his mouth. Matty picks at the dry skin on his lips with his fingers. You watch him alternate between that and nipping at the skin around his nails with his teeth. He’s watching you watch, and you see him copy and let his eyes flicker down to your lips a couple of times; but you ignore it.

The silence that washes over the room only allows your thoughts to increase in volume. You think of how great his family has always been to you. The times you’d both party too hard at someone’s house in secondary school and had to take turns holding each other’s hair as you wretched. How he always opts to sit next to you, whether you’re in a pub or on a basement sofa or on the train. The way his lips find themselves pressed against your cheek every time you part.

And lastly, how it’s not like this with anyone else. Because maybe you’ve both already fallen.

“Why did you wait so long? To tell me?” You suddenly ask.

He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You’re not the only one who’s allowed to be afraid, darling.”

You look at him and you’re both frowning. It feels like he’s angry at you, even though you know he’s more angry at the circumstances.

The only way you know how to relieve the heavy air between you two is to get up and go. Leaving seems to be what you do best, after all. So, you use your hands to push yourself up off Matty’s mattress and take a step towards his door.

A hand grips your wrist before you can get any further. He stands up with you, and turns you around, bringing you face-to-face. The sudden movement makes you gasp.

It’s the closest your faces have ever been. The edge of Matty’s bed nudges the back of his calves, preventing him from creating any space between your bodies; but even if he had all the space in the world to move backwards, you have a feeling that he still wouldn’t.

“What’re you doing?” You pose with your voice barely a whisper.

You’re too scared to say it any louder, and even though you ask, it’s rhetorical. Matty’s eyes are trained on your lips now, instead of the quick glances you‘d catch him sneaking earlier in your conversation. You know that he’s fighting the urge to kiss you.

Your breathing speeds up as you do the same, searching his eyes for permission and internally begging him to just do it.

“Can I kiss you?” Matty mumbles, too caught up in the moment to enunciate clearly, inching even closer. Your noses are almost touching.

“Please,” you mutter back, nodding your head to confirm.

He closes the gap and finally takes your lips in his. Your hand migrates up to his jaw as your eyes flutter shut, sighing in satisfaction. It feels good to be kissing Matty. It feels right. Like you should have been doing it all along.

His fingers creep around your waist and it makes you shiver. He holds you tight, like he’s afraid you’ll fall apart when he lets go. You’ve never felt safer.

Suddenly, your tongue’s in his mouth, and Matty is sitting atop his mattress and bringing you down to straddle his thighs. There’s something so familiar about him feeling the soft skin on the small of your back with his calloused hands even though it should be foreign.

Then it’s his tongue’s turn to explore your mouth, and you stifle a quiet moan. Matty does the same when you run your fingers through his hair and tug lightly. He hums into your lips as they move in sync with his.

When your hips subconsciously roll, he has to pull away and catch his breath. Your foreheads lean together and you hesitate to open your eyes. But you’re dying to look at him, desperate to see his face, so you back yours away and do anyway.

You’re immediately met with Matty’s gaze. You smile sheepishly through your heavy breathing. The fact that you’ve just made out with your best friend starts to sink in, so a wave of nerves wash over you. Giddiness wipes them away almost immediately.

He squeezes your hips and your hands still sit in his hair. You take one of them and brush the curls that dangle down out of his face to see him fully. He’s beautiful, even at this close of a distance.

Matty’s eyes dart to your lips once more, so you give him one more quick peck to satisfy his curiosities. He chuckles at the fact that you knew exactly what he was thinking.

What shocks you is the first thing he utters after making your stomach flip upside down.

“Please don’t go.”

It’s less of a phrase and more of a plea. His voice is quiet and bleak.

Matty hides his face in your neck while he says it. You feel him pepper light kisses above your collarbone. When he keeps going, your eyes find themselves shutting in pleasure once again. The way his lips make you feel is an easy excuse to ignore whether he was serious with his words or not. But then, he does the contemplation for you.

“I’m not kidding, Y/N,” Matty whispers, “Stay with me.”

You peel him off of you. “What? Matty, come on—”

“Jamie’s gonna sign us to his label for cheap so we can start releasing stuff. Our gigs are selling out, he says we have a few opening act opportunities lined up! He has connections. Things are looking the best they’ve looked in years. We’ll be on tour and you could be our photographer! I’d hate to work with anyone else—you’re such an integral part of this artistically—I can talk to him about a contract,”

The words flow out of him with haste and desperation. Matty says it all while burning his gaze into your eyes. A feverish energy seeped out of his skin and you could feel it on yours. His hands rose to cup your face gently, begging you to say something. Anything.

“Nobody gets me like you. We can make something out of this, right? You and me? Don’t you think so?” he insists.

Your heart sinks to your feet. The brown in his eyes drips innocently and its warmth swallows you whole. Stop looking at me like that, you beg internally.

“I don’t want you to think that I don’t feel the same way, but,” You begin painfully, watching his curiously furrowed brows turn to confusion. “I’m going to New York, Matty. As much as I might like to—I can’t just stay for you,”

He removes his hands from your face and sits them on your thighs instead. “You wouldn’t just be staying for me. You’d stay for the band, Y/N. You and I have always dreamed of this, our big break is so close I can taste it—”

Matty’s words hit and ignite a bit of fury within you. It forces you to interrupt him with the thing you think he seems to not understand.

“The band’s success is really important to me, you’re right. But I can’t give everything up for that. Matty—that’s your dream.”

“I mean, when you put it like that—”

“New York is my dream.”

—

The late spring weather is nice in Manhattan.

You have a reporting manager from ELLE, Ben, who picks you up at the airport. He explains that you won’t be working with him, but that he’s the person you should contact in regards to your contract, your work visa, or your housing. So, he then shows you to the flat—or apartment, you guess—that you’ll be staying in for the year. It’s very central and within walking distance of anything you can imagine needing to access. It also has a functioning lift, which is a pleasant change.

He helps you get all of your bags into your room. There’s a bed in the corner and a set of drawers that doubles as a desk, and a cramped closet. It’ll do.

“Your roommate’s from Toronto and came over a bit early since it’s so nearby. She’s been in the apartment for a week or so, so she can give you a tour when she gets back. Knows the place way better than me.” He explains as you plonk your bottom onto your mattress. You stand back up quickly, thinking of the fact that you should probably put the sheet set you brought onto the bed before getting comfortable.

“Thank you,” you say graciously, “For all the help, and for showing me around. I’ll make sure to let you know if I need anything.”

Ben smiles. “Please do! I’ll check in on you once in a while, too. I do have the best food recommendations for these couple of blocks, so even if it’s just for that—reach out anytime,”

And then he’s gone, and it’s just you. It’s weirdly quiet. You expect New York to be busy and bustling—which it is, from what you saw in the taxi over from the airport—but the craziness seems to begin outside your window. The space inside feels pretty calm.

You thank whatever god blessed you with some time alone before meeting your roommate, so you can do some unpacking and gather up your messy thoughts. Keeping busy might distract you from the anxiety threatening to escape from your pores.

You break open your bags and make your bed, stuff most of your clothes into the closet and then fold whatever didn’t fit. You place your laptop on the flat top of the drawers, along with your camera bag, a couple of books, your jewellery dish and its collection of rings. The room quickly looks like a tornado hit it, and in perfect timing, your roommate arrives back and stands in the doorway.

She stands tall and slim and has trendy clothes on. She wears a smile on her face too, which comforts you, but the embarrassment of her seeing the pigsty of your belongings ultimately prevails. Your face goes red before she even spots you within the chaos.

Her eyes catch yours after scanning the room. “Y/N, right?”

You scramble to your feet and stick your hand out for her to shake. “Yes! God, I’m a mess, sorry. You must be Julia,”

She nods her head and grasps your hand firmly. “Oh please, don’t apologise. My room still looks just like this and I’ve been here nine days,”

“That makes me feel a lot better, thank you,” you chuckle together.

“I can show you around if you want a break from unpacking?” Julia poses. You agree.

The kitchen is bigger than the one you share with the girls back home. You see that your new roommate has her stuff neatly labelled and placed in bins when you open the fridge and a few of the cupboards. Wow, she is organised, you think to yourself. Then you make a mental note to get some of your own to do the same.

You walk around to the living room and are glad to see that it’s furnished, but all of the furniture points at an empty wall. You guess you’ll have to survive without a TV. But you can think of worse things to have to survive without, so you stop yourself from complaining.

Then you’re led to the bathroom that you and Julia have to share. The shower looks fairly new and it seems like she;s kept it clean so far, which you appreciate. You don’t like the colour of the tile, though. Your Manchester flat had a cute pink hue to its shower, and this one was beige and boring. The tile shouldn’t matter, but it makes you unexpectedly sad. You think about Avni and Greta and what they might be doing without you.

Julia avoids showing you her room, so once you’ve seen everything else (there wasn’t much to look at, anyway), you depart back to your room and she makes dinner for herself. Since you’re still full from the complimentary plane meal and running on UK time, you grow quite tired. It’s 8 o’clock and you climb into pyjamas to sneak underneath the covers.

You sit up and scroll on your laptop through your schedule for the rest of the week. It’s busy, but exciting. You look at ELLE’s editorial campaigns online with admiration, finally wrapping your head around the crazy opportunity you’re about to embark on. There’s nothing you’ve wanted more.

But then, you head to Facebook. Your dashboard is pretty quiet, since it’s two in the morning for most of your friends, but you surf anyway. The band’s page comes up.

The whole group drove you down to the train station, where you then travelled to Heathrow for your flight. You all cram into the back of their van with your hoard of bags. Many tears are shed, especially by Avni, and hugging them for the final time is painful.

Nobody's aware about what happened in Matty's room that last day—as far as you know—so you act normal when the guys come over for dinner afterwards. Matty refuses to speak to you directly, you and him only interacting with each other when someone else is there as a buffer. You don’t really make an effort either.

There is still an underlying hurt between you two. It's an intersection of Matty’s feelings of rejection and your frustration from his selfishness. Leaving things in limbo to avoid complicating things even further seems like the only option.

But, when saying goodbye at the station, you embrace Matty for extra long. You hug him like he’s your best friend—because he is—and push aside the whirlwind of events that seemed to muddle everything at the worst possible time. You shake your head at how stupid you were to let it get in the way of your last moments together. Matty even holds on a little longer after you try to pull away the first time.

Seeing the posts on the band’s Facebook wall makes you miss them even more (though it’s only been a day), so you shut your laptop and roll over.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling, and think about the feeling of Matty’s lips on yours. How easy it felt, how his palms ran over your skin. You wish you had the chance to kiss him again before leaving.

The droning chords and pulsating beat of the song he sang to you fill your new room. It doesn’t really, but since you attempt to relive it so intensely, a part of you thinks you can actually hear it.

A tear runs down your cheek and onto your pillow. You wipe it away, embarrassed to be crying over a boy when you know you’ll wake up the next morning to attend the first day of your dream job.

You focus on the sounds of Julia walking around the kitchen and then watch the traffic light outside your window turn from green to yellow, to try and flood him from your thoughts. Nevertheless, they persist.

We can make something out of this, right? You and me?

His words echo in your mind and you fall asleep, bittersweetly thinking of an alternate universe where you say yes.

#thread of gold #matty healy #the 1975 #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 fanfiction #matty healy fic #matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #fanfiction #fluff #angst

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besebee · 10 months ago

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I was... Oddly disappointed by the last two episodes of Hazbin Hotel season one?

More under the cut. MASSIVE SPOILER WARNING.

Why is Vaggie of all characters saying that she didn't know they could get hurt / die? Lute literally gouged out her eye and cut off her wings. As a matter of fact, Lute, Adam, Vaggie, and the Overlords all knew that angels could be hurt / killed because there was a dead angel from the last extermination. It's like major plot points were completely forgotten, and you're telling me no angel ever got hurt in training?

Vaggie just... Regrows her wings? Somehow? Because love?

Carmilla willingly gives angelic weapons, seemingly very controlled and rare to have, to countless random sinners which immediately makes them no longer rare or controlled. I feel that takes away a bit of the weight behind them. Also, how did she have so many? (That's less of an issue and more of a nitpick to be fair.)

During the whole preparation bit Charlie literally goes to a town of random ass sinners for help rather than contact her father, the literal King of Hell and supremely powerful being that she knows from the last time they spoke would do anything to protect her. As far as we know she doesn't even tell him about how her talk with Heaven went, or mention that they threatened her and her hotel specifically. Why not?

Razzle and Dazzle exist to protect Charlie and they don't transform until the middle of the fight. On top of that, Charlie wasn't even using all of her strength in a life or death battle and we were never given a reason for it so it makes it appear like they had to nerf her simply for the plot, immediately making the fight seem much lower stakes.

Razzle or Dazzle fucking dies and it's not mentioned. Or at the very least it appears like they do.

Vaggie spares Lute and I question why. She knows that they will kill her and her friends / lover so why would she spare her?

Alastor goes missing and no one mentions it or seems to care past a fleeting moment when Charlie realizes that Adam isn't being distracted anymore.

While Pentious getting basically blinked out existence was probably trying to be funny, it just seemed out of place? I understand it's a comedy but it seemed like a serious, weighty, emotional moment and it took all of that away, at least for me, for a cheap joke.

Lucifer spared Adam because Charlie asked him to. Again, why? Like I know Charlie is idealistic but she went into that fight knowing they were going to kill angels, so why would she spare the jackass ringleader dead set on killing her and her friends?

Adam died to Nifty. I don't... I don't know. The buildup seemed so much more than that, but it was just another joke.

The fact that the most genuine emotion in the whole episode came from Lute when Adam died and he gave her a sort of smile before passing away. Genuinely loved that but the fact that I cared more about Adam dying than Sir Pentious (fyi I love Sir Pentious and was rooting for Adam to die) just shows that the other emotion heavy scenes were not handled well and that's a damn shame.

-+-

I liked Charlie's weapon, I thought it was very fitting.

Alright so the good. Um, I liked when Lucifer came to the fight and the banter between him and Adam as he basically danced circles around him.

Alastor's fight with Adam was well done.

I like that Pentious ascended to Heaven and we didn't lose him entirely and I am very interested to know what that means for the rest of the series.

Alastor freaking the fuck out over the fact that he nearly died was golden honestly. Some people are seeing his rant where he says that "Alastor Altruistic died for his friends" (or something similar) as evidence that he views those in the hotel as his friends but I don't think that's the case. I believe he was speaking from the point of view of an outsider looking in and what they would see his death as, and that disgusted him because he thinks it would make him look weak and that's not what really happened. I completely believe he's reaching the end of his rope when it comes to following the order of whoever is pulling on his leash and that was the most honest insight into his character we've seen yet. I truly enjoyed that.

-+-

I dunno maybe I'm just reading too much into the series or thinking it's going for a different tone then what it's actually going for, and I really wanted to like these last episodes, but they just didn't do it for me. I'm still really looking forward to next season though, and I hope it'll be great!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel critical

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lunathebee · 2 years ago

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Pairing: Namor x mermaid princess!reader

Warning: none

A/n: I finally finish this! Thank you for sending in a rq @shadowynutsuit, and no hate to the Namor fandom, but are you guys okay? This is the fourth fic I've written that has dialogue #9

Dialogue prompts:

5. "You will be safe here, with me...I'm devoting my heart to you".

9. "Open your eyes, my love, my moon. I'm begging you...please. The war is over; we won... but without you, it doesn't matter to me anymore."

"You're sad again" Namor said when he saw Y/n's face, his hand cupping her soft cheeks, slowly turning her face so that their eyes met. "Have you been crying?" The phrase that left his lips almost sounded like a whisper.

Although Namor is glad Y/n has trusted him more, it hurts him to see that when she comes to him, it's when she's seeking comfort. The world has always been so cruel to the princess; it's not fair at all.

"I just...I hate it here! Not having beauty is like the death sentence for a mermaid. Do you understand Namor? DO YOU?!" Y/n screams at the man in front of her; she doesn't care anymore; he will leave her sooner or later. That's what people do to her; they come and go, and some never come back.

The question was always "when will they leave" and never "how long will they stay" for Y/n. The mermaid princess has long understood how cold and empty the ocean could get until Namor showed her his kingdom and the sun he has there.

"You can hit me all you want; you can scream at me all you want; just let me be with you." The king said this, taking Y/n's hand and placing it on his chest. "Can you feel my heartbeat? It beats for you."

The woman is too stunned to speak; never in a million years would she think that the king of Talokan is wrapped around her finger willingly. Y/n tries to open her mouth to protest, but no words come out,the king then wastes no time in continuing to express his love.

"Y/n...My pearl... Do you know why I called you that? Because pearls are imperfect, yet they stand out on their own and shine brightly." Namor knows he has captured the heart of the mermaid princess right after saying that. People can say he is flirty all they want, but for Y/n, only the truth

"I- ... Please let me have some time to think about it." Y/n's answer makes Namor's heart skip a beat; he doubts she wouldn't feel it; her hand isn't on his chest anymore. More importantly, their hands aren't intertwined, and there is nothing Namor can do but watch the mermaid swim away, waiting for her answer.

===𓆝 𓆟 𓆞===

How little did the king know that the war was one step ahead of him, taking Y/n away.

"HEAL HER" Namor's voice can be heard even from a thousand miles; there is even a hint of despair in his voice. "DO SOMETHING"

"My king, we are trying to do everything" A group of Talokanil speaks up; they're knealing on the floor, trying to keep the blood from flowing out of Y/n's injured wounds. "It's too risky; she is a mermaid, and we don't know if the technology we have is suitable!"

A long moment of silence felt like enternity for Namor; he knows what they're saying is right; he was foolish. In a moment of distress, seeing Y/n in pain, he brought her to Talokan and not her kingdom. It's too late to ever bring her there now; even with his superspeed, every movement would result in Y/n crying out of pain.

Namor demands all the Talokanil leave for a suitable potion; let him be here with Y/N. But it's only half the truth; he doesn't want to let them see how weak he could get.

"Open your eyes, my love, my moon. I'm begging you...please. The war is over; we won... but without you, it doesn't matter to me anymore."

Namor waited for an answer; he waited, and he vowed to forever wait for one.

#namor x y/n #namor x reader #namor imagine #namor fic #namor fanfiction #k'uk'ulkan #kukulkan x reader #kukulkan x you #kukulkan namor #namor the sub mariner #black panther wakanda forever #mcu namor #mcu x reader #mcu fic #mcu imagine

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whatacaitastrophe · 8 months ago

Text

Is It Over Now? - Alternative Prologue

Chapter Song Inspiration: "Something in The Orange" - Niall Horan (originally performed by Zach Bryan)

Chapter Warnings: drinking to cope

Spotify Playlist: Here

Fic Chapter List

Chapter Notes: so I finished my tactician mode run as fallon this week, and i played it exactly how it plays out in her story (god!gale leaves her, karlach goes illithid, etc). I have now seen the epilogue party and how it goes if you romanced gale and he ascends to godhood and my brain has been whooshing ever since. So if i were to re-edit/re-write this entire story (i’m not– not right now anyway), just imagine this chapter slotted in between the prologue and chapter one.

Prologue B: You're Never Coming Home

When Fallon received the mysterious invitation requesting she attend a reunion party six months after defeating The Netherbrain, in the spot near The Emerald Grove where it all began, she immediately threw the invitation in the bin. Though she had seen most of her former companions several times since they parted ways on the docks, and though it would be nice to see her former companions again in one large group, Fallon had absolutely no desire to go anywhere that he might show up. Would whomever was throwing this party have even thought to invite him? Would he have even received the invitation? Fallon didn’t know where he was anymore, or if he’d become the god he sought out to become. As far as she knew, nobody had heard from him or spoken to him since he left.

Not that Fallon’s friends dared to mention his name in her presence, so even if they knew of his whereabouts…they probably wouldn’t tell her.

She should have expected that Shadowheart would show up at The Elfsong Tavern, where Fallon was still living, and demand Fallon attend. When Shadowheart threw open the curtains in the suite (curtains that had remained closed for the last six months), Fallon whined and buried herself under the blankets in her bed. “That’s fuckin’ bright, fuck.” Fallon complained, the dull headache she had from the previous evening’s attempt to drink until she reached peaceful oblivion intensifying.

“Serves you right for living in darkness and not leaving this room for six months.” Shadowheart chastised her, and there was little sympathy in her friend’s tone.

“That’s not true– I’ve left this room,” Fallon argued as she poked her head out from under the blankets, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the daylight now flooding her space. “I’ve gone downstairs.” Her words were slurred, and Fallon squeezed her eyes shut again, willing her brain to focus. There was no question about it: Fallon was definitely still a little drunk from last night.

Shadowheart tutted at her with her tongue and shook her head. The cleric didn’t need to say it for them both to know Fallon’s argument was weak, and going downstairs to the bar was not what Shadowheart meant. “Regardless, you’re leaving this tavern. You’re leaving Baldur’s Gate, and coming with me to the reunion party. If you won’t come willingly, I am prepared to drag you there kicking and screaming.”

“It’s not like I don’t know what you’ve all been doing. I’ve seen most of you in the last six months.” The only exceptions being Lae’zel, who had been off helping her people overthrow Vlaakith, and him. Everyone else had been by to see Fallon at least once in the last six months. Shadowheart ignored Fallon’s protests and disappeared from the bedroom. The sound of running water filled Fallon’s ears moments later and she realized Shadowheart was running her a bath. When the cleric reappeared, she stalked over to Fallon’s bed and ripped the blankets back, robbing Fallon of their warmth and the elf squawked with protest as she unsuccessfully reached for the blankets to cover herself again, if only to hide what she was sleeping in from her friend.

Recognition immediately passed over Shadowheart’s face as she scanned the purple tunic that covered Fallon’s body, and pity filled the cleric’s eyes. “Where did you find that? I thought he took–” Shadowheart asked softly.

“It was in my pack when– when he left. My guess is he left in such a hurry that he forgot I had it.” Fallon answered bitterly, unable to meet Shadowheart’s eyes. She hated the look of pity on her friend’s face, and Fallon wanted nothing more than to disappear back under the blankets and for her friend to leave.

“And you sleep in it…to torture yourself?” Shadowheart questioned.

Fallon shrugged and curled her body into itself, wrapping her arms around her knees and pressing them to her chest. “I guess so.” The truth was that Fallon slept in the purple tunic because it still smelled like him, and when she wrapped her arms around herself before falling into her alcohol induced slumber every night, she could pretend they were his arms instead of her own. It didn’t always keep the nightmares she had about that day on the docks at bay, but at least when she woke up in a panic, the feeling of the velvet fabric and the lingering smell of his cologne was enough to bring her back to reality. Fallon was more certain than ever that he had enchanted his clothes to smell the way they did, because after sleeping in his tunic for six straight months, the familiar smell never faded.

Shadowheart sighed as she took a seat on the bed at Fallon’s feet. She gently reached for Fallon’s hand and squeezed it. “If you stay home, he wins. He’s already robbed you of enough happiness– don’t let him take this from you, too.”

Fallon looked up at Shadowheart, fear shining in her eyes. “What if he shows up? I don’t think I can–” She said thickly, her voice threatening to crack as panic rose within her.

“If he shows up, we’ll protect you. If you don’t want to speak to him, you don’t have to, and I will personally spend my entire evening concentrating on the most powerful Hold Person spell I know if he tries to speak to you without your permission.” Shadowheart tells her with more conviction than Fallon has heard from the cleric in a very long time.

“And if Shadowheart’s spell fails, I will rip his throat out if he comes near you.” Fallon’s head snapped up as a new voice entered the conversation, and she saw Astarion leaning against the door frame of her bedroom. The serious look on his face softened when they made eye contact, and he offered her an easy smile. “Hello, darling. Miss me?”

“That depends. Are you here to help her drag me to this party?” Fallon eyed the vampire warily.

Astarion pushed himself away from the door frame and entered the room, his red eyes looking around in distaste. “Well right now I’m here to drag you to the bath because if you smell half as bad as this room does, the only person surviving this party is me because I’m technically already dead, gods.”

Fallon scowled at him as he raised the collar of his shirt above his nose in an attempt to filter the alleged smell of her bedroom, and she looked to Shadowheart for confirmation it was as bad as he said.

“He’s being dramatic, but…it does smell a bit like something died in here. The fact that you don’t smell it yourself is all the more reason to get you out of here for a while,” Shadowheart scrunched her nose as her attention turned from Astarion to Fallon. “Do we…want to know how long it’s been since you bathed?”

That she couldn’t remember was telling enough. “Probably not.” Fallon shook her head, and Astarion made a disgusted noise in response.

Shadowheart closed her eyes and sighed. “Please come to the party with us, Fallon. We all miss you.”

Fallon missed her friends, too, and hearing about what everyone had been up to in between taking turns checking in on her would be a nice distraction. “Ugh, fine.” She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, completely unbothered by the way Astarion’s eyes went wide as he realized Fallon was not wearing any pants, and the purple tunic barely covered her ass. If her friends had wanted her to be decent when they came over, they should have sent word or, at the very least, knocked.

Aside from poking her head in to leave what Shadowheart deemed an “appropriate” outfit for Fallon to wear to the party (“Honestly, I’m just glad I found something clean.” she’d said), Astarion and Shadowheart did not bother Fallon while she soaked in the tub, or tell her to hurry up. When Fallon emerged from the bath an hour later, the smell of lavender hit her nostrils as she re-entered her bedroom. No matter what Shadowheart and Astarion claimed her room smelled like before, it definitely hadn’t smelled like lavender. Fallon’s jaw went slack as she observed the now pristine room. Fallon found Shadowheart and Astarion waiting for her in the sitting room and she gave the pair a look of awe. “Did you clean my room for me?”

“I cleaned your room, yes.” Shadowheart confirmed and Astarion glared at her.

“Excuse me, I–”

“You did not help, you fluffed her pillows so you could say you helped, but I did all the work.” Shadowheart cut him off, and Astarion rolled his eyes.

“Whatever. We’re going to be late. Shall we go?” He stood from his chair and walked to Fallon, offering his arm. Fallon nodded and inhaled slowly, deeply, trying to calm her mind.

“Lead the way.” Gods, there better be alcohol at this party.

There was, mercifully, an abundance of alcohol at the reunion party, and everyone else seemed as interested in partaking as Fallon did. Wyll himself said he intended to drink a half-dozen bottles of wine by the time the night was over, so Fallon did not feel guilty for taking an entire bottle of red for herself. There was no sign of him yet, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t coming, so Fallon kept drinking. She was mindful to stick to the same brand and type of wine, so each time she opened a new bottle, it was less obvious.

If anyone noticed that the elf had three full bottles of wine to herself in under two hours, nobody tried to stop her. It seemed like everyone was too happy to see her, especially out and about, to bother with telling her to slow down the drinking (if they noticed at all). Based on the look Astarion was constantly giving her, he’d definitely noticed. As she opened her fourth bottle of wine, her vision blurring at the edges and her balance beginning to falter as she swayed slightly, Fallon wondered why her friend was so uncharacteristically silent in his judgment of her. Then she saw a flash of silver out of the corner of her eye as something, rather someone tried to skirt their way out of Fallon’s line of sight.

That was when Fallon felt it: the pull of otherworldly energy calling to her from across their former campsite. Slowly, Fallon turned her body as she searched for the campsite for the source. When she found it, Fallon inhaled sharply and nausea immediately began roiling in her stomach.

Gale.

Not only that, but if the silver glow surrounding his body was any indication, he was a god. The man she loved more than anything had succeeded in his quest to reforge The Crown of Karsus and seize its power for himself. He’d gotten what he wanted, while she’d been left behind wondering what could have been. Shadowheart was at her side in an instant, and Fallon gripped her friend’s arm to steady herself and keep her entire body from trembling at the sight of him.

“How long has he been here?” Fallon asked quietly.

“Just long enough for Astarion to tell him to stay away from you.” Shadowheart rested her hand over Fallon’s.

As though he’d heard his name, Astarion appeared in front of Fallon, blocking her from Gale’s line of sight. “Are you okay? Say the word and I’ll take you home.”

“No,” Fallon shook her head, closing her eyes. She was not okay, but she also wasn’t going to run away. “I’m not leaving. Remember what Shadowheart said before we came here? If I leave, he wins. I’m not letting him win.”

“Are you sure?” Astarion asked, concern etched across his face.

“I’m not leaving.” Fallon reiterated, as deja vu flooded her system and reminded her that she, Astarion, and Shadowheart had a similar exchange once where she refused to leave a location because of Gale. Only back then, it was at the Stormshore Tabernacle, and instead of waiting for Gale to leave before departing herself, she was waiting to leave until he returned from being summoned by Mystra.

Astarion sighed. “Okay. Just say the word though–”

“I’m fine, Astarion.” Fallon snapped. She was not fine, and they both knew it, but Fallon was too stubborn to admit it. Fallon released her grip on Shadowheart’s arm and took a long drink from her wine bottle, closing her eyes as she willed the alcohol to bring her to peaceful oblivion where she was unbothered by Gale’s presence. If Shadowheart and Astarion exchanged any looks, she did not see it.

Fallon needed a distraction. Something stronger than wine, and when she turned to walk away from Astarion and Shadowheart as she lowered the bottle from her mouth, her eyes landed on the tall, broad figure of Halsin standing by the fire.

A distraction, indeed.

Fallon sauntered over to the druid with a coy smile on her face. “Hi friend.” She greeted like she hadn’t been speaking to him for half the night already. She stumbled slightly in her drunkenness, and her free hand instinctively reached for Halsin’s abnormally large bicep to steady herself, and the druid’s hands instinctively went to her waist to steady her. Fallon giggled. “My hero! I would have Fallon into the fire if you weren’t here. Wait– did I say Fallon instead of fallen? I’m Fallon.”

Halsin laughed softly, shaking his head. “Yes you are, friend. You’re also very drunk,” The druid’s hands dropped from her waist as soon as he was sure that Fallon was steady on her feet. “I take it you’ve had a good evening? The presence of a certain wizard hasn’t soured your mood?”

“What wizard? There are no wizards here– just gods and mortals,” Fallon slurred, rolling her eyes. “My evening has been lovely, thank you. It’s been so good to see…well, almost everyone again. Could’ve done without Volo crashing. Or the god. Though I could think of a few ways it could be better.” She took another swig from her wine bottle as she eyed Halsin mischievously, like a cat circling in on a mouse.

Halsin raised an eyebrow at her with a wary look on his face. “Oh?”

Fallon stepped closer to Halsin, and as she did so, her eyes found Gale’s. Fallon inhaled sharply at the intensity of his gaze. He was watching her. Good. She turned her attention back to Halsin with a smile. “I seem to recall a time when you wanted to lay beneath the stars with me,” She placed her free hand on Halsin’s broad chest. “How about you and I find a place to watch the stars later…just the two of us?” Fallon bit her lip in a suggestive manner, her lips curling into a smirk as she eyed the druid.

Halsin covered Fallon’s hand on his chest with his own, and brought her hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it softly before redirecting her hand to her side and releasing it. “Flattered as I am that you sought me out, you have had quite a lot to drink this evening. I cannot in good conscience take you to bed in this condition,” The look on his face could only be described as gentle disappointment, like he was about to scold a child, not reject a fully grown woman’s advances. “However if, when you are sound of mind, this conversation comes back to you and you have sorted everything out with Gale and Astarion, you know where to find me.”

Fallon stared at Halsin in confusion as he took a step back from her. “What do you mean? Sorted things out with Gale and Astarion?”

Halsin chuckled. “It’s not often that one finds themself in a position where a god is ready to smite me where I stand and a vampire prepared to rip out my throat simply for placing my hands on a woman’s waist, but that is what just occurred,” He shrugged. “So you tell me.”

With that, he bade her goodnight and Fallon was left alone by the fire, pouting and confused. Across the flames, she saw Gale again, and he looked smug. It was possible that was just his face now that he was a god, but even in her inebriated condition, Fallon had a feeling that wasn’t the case. Fallon downed the rest of her wine bottle and tossed it into the dirt with a soft thud before storming over to the god.

“I wondered if I’d see you here,” Gale greeted her with a smile far too smug for someone who was seeing his ex-girlfriend for the first time in six months after abandoning her. “I imagine this must be quite a shock. Whatever you’re feeling, do not be afraid. I’m still me…just an improved version.”

Fallon stared at Gale, stunned into silence at how casual he was being. “So you did it then. You became a god?”

“I told you I would, didn’t I?” Fallon hated the condescending smirk on Gale’s face. No, this was most definitely not an “improved” version of Gale by any means– Fallon knew that and she’d only been in his presence for less than thirty seconds.

“Was it worth it? Is godhood everything you dreamed it would be, despite what you had to give up?” Fallon asked him.

“Of course it was worth it– it’s not like I had to give up anything of consequence. I had nothing. Spurned by my goddess, my power all but depleted, my reputation destroyed… That’s what I gave up when I reforged the crown.”

“And me.” She muttered, her eyes dropping to the dirt beneath their feet. His words stung, and Fallon could feel the anger bubbling within her.

“Sorry, what was that? I may be a god now but that doesn’t mean my hearing has improved.” Gale chuckled jokingly, completely oblivious to the fact that he’d upset her at all.

“I said ‘and me.’ You had me, Gale. Though from the sound of it, I was nothing of consequence and meant nothing to you, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised at how easy it was for you to give me up.” When she looked back up at him, fiery drunken anger shone in her eyes.

Gale looked completely taken back by her outburst, and the mask of the confident god faltered. “Fallon, I– I did this for you. I told you that I needed to reforge the crown, then I could give you everything.”

“Don’t. Don’t fucking lie to me. You did not do this for me. You were only thinking of yourself. If you were thinking of me, you never would have left me behind in the first place,” Fallon spat, and she reached forward to shove Gale as her anger manifested physically. The god of ambition was unmoved by her attempt to shove him. She was not sure when it happened, but Fallon had begun crying. “You were everything to me, and I meant nothing to you.”

Gale tried to take a step towards her, reaching for her, but Fallon stepped back and out of his reach. “Don’t fucking touch me!” She yelled. As though he’d been waiting in the shadows for this very moment, Astarion appeared almost out of thin air and he stepped between Gale and Fallon.

“Back up, wizard.” He snarled at Gale, placing a hand on Gale’s chest as a warning to not take another step.

Gale tilted his head, his gaze flitting back and forth between Astarion and Fallon, then a look of understanding passed over his face. Gale’s nostrils flared as he scoffed. “Well you certainly didn’t waste any time, did you?” He quipped to Astarion, causing the vampire to get right in his face.

“Walk away, Gale. Now. Need I remind you that this very specific group of people have taken on the effigies of four different gods, and won?” Astarion threatened, and Fallon glanced around only to realize that the rest of their companions had gathered behind her– every single one of them ready to back Astarion if a fight broke out.

Gale looked at his former companions, assessing the situation carefully. Then, slowly, he raised his hands in defeat and backed up. “As you wish. It was time for me to return to the heavens anyhow,” Gale’s eyes fell on Fallon and he looked at her longingly. “I truly did come here ready to offer you everything. How unfortunate that I believed you would wait for me.”

With a glow of ethereal light, Gale disappeared, and Fallon immediately collapsed into Astarion’s arms as sobs wracked through her body as their companions surrounded her. “I hate him,” She sobbed into Astarion’s chest. “I hate him.”

Those three words were the only ones she knew as Astarion carried her back to Baldur’s Gate via the portal they arrived through, back to The Elfsong Tavern and up to the suite. She repeated her mantra as she allowed Astarion to help her change into a set of night clothes Shadowheart found while cleaning, and as he helped her into bed.

“I hate him” was the last thing she said before she passed out in Astarion’s arms, curled up against his side.

The headache was what woke her bright and early the next morning, followed by the nausea. Then the panic set in as she tried to remember the events of the previous evening, but her memory failed her completely.

“The last thing I remember was talking to Lae’zel about Shadowheart moving in with her, and that was…pretty early in the evening?” She asked Astarion for confirmation, and he nodded.

“Jesus…” Fallon paused for a moment, chewing on her lip as she tried to remember, but nothing came. “Did–did he show up?”

Astarion was quiet for a moment, but then he sighed and shook his head. “No, darling. He didn’t come.”

Of course he didn’t. Fallon blinked back the tears that formed in the corner of her eyes. “He’s never coming home, is he?” She said more to herself than to Astarion, and Astarion, bless him, seemed to know this, so he did not answer her.

“I want to be alone, please.” Fallon said quietly as she laid back down on the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. “Please, Astarion.”

The vampire surveyed his friend silently, as though he were trying to figure out if she meant her words or not. “Alright. Shall I come by later to check in?” He asked as he rose from the bed..

Fallon shook her head. “I’ll call you if I need you. Promise.” She nodded her head towards the sending stone on her bedside table.

Astarion nodded and began walking to the bedroom door, but he stopped halfway to the door and turned back to look at Fallon. “He never deserved you.” Astarion said softly.

As he exited, he noticed the purple tunic Fallon had been wearing when he and Shadowheart arrived sitting on the top of a pile of dirty clothes, and in a split second decision, Astarion checked to make sure Fallon wasn’t watching before swiping the tunic from the top of the pile with the intention of throwing it away the second he passed a garbage bin outside the Elfsong Tavern.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale #gale of waterdeep #astarion #bg3 fanfic #female tav #gale x tav #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #bg3 fan fiction #bg3 fanfiction #baldur's gate 3 fanfic #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction

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beepingmemesauce2727 · 2 months ago

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"He could feel every second of it. The man's teeth sinking into his tender neck, his blood leaving his veins, his vision becoming blurry and hazy, the overwhelming feeling of vertigo, all of it.

But worst of all was the pain. Excruciatingly sharp and agonizing, he could actually feel his life slipping away and leaving his body. A single tear escaped his eye, for the boy knew that he would die alone, in this dark house, without his friends, and at the mercy of this literal bloodsucking rich prick.

He didn't even know how he ended up in this situation. The last thing he could remember was wandering around in some random alleyway in one of Ramshackle's many slums, piss drunk from drinking 37 cans of Monster Energy, and blacking out, and falling face first onto the cold, hard concrete.

At this point, he wished beyond all hope that his (candy) acid trip demon would comfort him in his final moments, telling him that he will find peace in an afterlife, that he would one day see his friends again. His family. The only family that actually cared about him. Took him in when he needed them the most.

He loved them so much...even though he didn't exactly show it to them all the time. Vinnie make shitty plans all the time that would almost get them arrested and/or killed, and Skipp was very loud and would constantly force him to listen to his "folky alternative", but he would have them no other way.

Stone didn't want to die, he would sometimes tell himself he DID want to die, but he never really meant it. The natural survival instinct engraved in his DNA would never allow him to kill himself willingly. Now that he's actually staring Death in the face at this very moment, he was more scared then he had ever been in his life. He wanted to save himself, he had to. For the sake of Vinnie and Skipp.

Stone struggled to reach his pocket knife, but he was losing a lot of blood, and he was fading fast. Every time he would reach over, he hand would fall limp, he was beginning to lose feeling all over his weak, frail body.

But he kept pushing. He wouldn't be afraid anymore. With one last ounce of strength, he pulled the knife out of his jacket's pocket, and rammed it into the man's abdomen.

The man let out an inhuman shriek, and his head shot up to reveal a ghastly Visage.

Lightning flashed outside the window, and Stone and the man locked eyes. It had all the same basic traits of a human, but warped and distorted to a horrifying degree. It had a tall, gaunt, frame, its teeth and ears were sharp and pointed, its eyes were cloudy and white but would occasionally turn red when hit with a light, its nose was flat, and it's thin but leathery skin was a disgusting sight to behold.

The suited devil peeled back the corners of its mouth to form a sickening grin. Finally, it threw itself through the window, and when Stone ran over to look over the windowsill to see if he could find a body, there was no such thing to be found.

Stone could barely stand up. He had to use a nearby piece of furniture to hold himself up and keep him from falling over. He started to the door that he had been dragged through by the creature, tumbled down the staircase, and crawled like a man with no legs through the living room of the house. He noticed the front door to the house was locked, and he had to struggle over to the counter on which the keys were sitting, and shake the counter enough times so the keys fell over the counter and into Stone's pale, sweaty hands.

He crawled back over to the door, turned the keys in the lock, and opened the door so that the pungent, yet so gloriously familiar odor hit him in the face.

He spent hours wandering around in the dark streets of Ramshackle, catching insults about his disheveled appearance from onlookers, until finally, he reached the alleyway that him, Vinnie, and Skipp lived in.

He stumbled over to their makeshift bed that they had made from used, tattered, mattresses, and slumped over to his sleeping friends side, and passed out next to them.

Stone eventually fell asleep, but was haunted by one very particularly horrifying dream. The dream was entirely from Stone's perspective, and he was once again, wandering the empty nighttime streets of Ramshackle, and he found Vinnie and Skipp searching for food in a dumpster, and it would end with Stone lunging at his friends and tearing open their throats so he could lap up their tasty, tasty, delicious blood, much like how the creature that had kidnapped him that night. He would wake up in a cold sweat, horrified by what he just witnessed, but soon, he would start feeling a tingling sensation into his veins and internal organs.

He could feel something change within him, he would walk it off eventually, but little did he know...

...he was just starting his journey of becoming one with the undead.

End of Part One

#zeddyzi #ramshackle #stone ramshackle #skipp ramshackle #vinnie ramshackle #ramshackle vampire au

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fictive-culture · 4 months ago

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i just need. to ramble about my system for a moment. sorry that this is so long. god i love them

so. i was a Villain in my source. like, irredeemable killer kind of guy. I participated in what was essentially a fantasy genocide. I was a soldier, and i was PROUD of myself. I killed a princess of the people I was trying to wipe out; as a result I got my memories wiped and was placed in some sort of death game.

In my own, noncanon memories of source, I was also a system. There were only two of us, but we HATED each other. He hated how I hurt people and felt no remorse. I hated how weak he was. Eventually, our fighting came to a head when we returned home one day to find our entire village on fire. We never found our parents. I blamed him for leaving in the first place, for not being able to protect everyone. For 15 years, I forced him into dormancy. He only re-emerged once our memories were wiped.

When my sourcemates and I got introjected it was DIRECTLY before what we kind of consider my "turning point" as a character- when my memories flooded back and I killed one of my best friends in cold blood. Because he was One Of Them, and i couldn't be friends with One Of Them. Most of the time when people get introjected into this system we still live out our source lives for a bit inside headspace until someone has the energy to explain to us where we are and what's going on. I very nearly went through with killing that friend here in this system- they had to physically hold me back in headspace. My alter, the nice one, got his own form in headspace and used his own body to shield that friend. I wanted to hurt BOTH of them.

For several weeks I was kind of placed under constant watch by the local gatekeeper (a fictive of a protector god). But.... they weren't horribly mean to me? They were prickly, yes, but.. well, I wasn't there for it, but a long time ago our system had a whole deal with a gang of persecutors trying to harm the rest of the system- everyone managed to just slowly talk them down and reach an understanding, and since then we've had this philosophy that NOBODY in this system deserves to be hated, or locked away, or hurt, no matter how much they're hurting others. We can always figure something out- hurting them will only make them want to hurt us more. Compassion is the strongest route to change, at least here. They applied that to me- they wouldn't force me to befriend anyone, and wouldn't expect me to be especially nice, but I wasn't allowed to hurt anyone. And in turn, nobody was allowed to hurt me. They protected me from the others just as much as vice versa, since... none of my sourcemates in the system were particularly happy with what I'd done.

I don't even really understand how it happened at this point. I can kind of barely remember it all (for reasons outside of the system). But slowly, over time, my sourcemates started to warm up to me? They started allowing me to be near my previous alter, now turned brother I suppose. Neither of us liked it much, but we didn't hurt each other. And when I started feeling emotions other than anger and hatred for possibly the first time in over a decade, they... were all there for me?

The sister of the princess I killed was also in the system. She was furious with me about it- she even joined that source death game willingly just so she could kill me in there. But she got her memory wiped too, so she never got the chance. If I had succeeded in killing my friend, she would've been my next target. In the system, she straight up hated me, refused to be around me. I still didn't feel bad about anything I'd done or intended to do. We fought. A Lot. Over time, everyone else in the system tried to show me the people I was trying to wipe out were, well, people, and I slowly started to see why I was wrong. And then all of it hit me at once. Oh god, I nearly killed one of the few people who truly believed in me, someone who loved me and I had loved him back before I remembered who i was, and I had killed so many people in the past and laughed about it, and i had killed this woman's sister and then taunted her about it, and oh fuck what is wrong with me. And... I don't even know why. I think it was because she literally could not get anyone else in front. But she had to be there for me as it all came crashing down on me, and she... kind of stopped hating me. She had to hold me as I cried. And she just... did. She could've left me alone in front to deal with that on my own, but she didn't. I was TERRIFIED of her all of a sudden, believing everything she had wanted to do to me was right and justified and I think I even tried to convince her to go through with hurting me while none of the gatekeepers were looking. She refused. She understood why the gatekeepers were so insistent on keeping the peace, and right there she could see evidence of it working. She said I gave her hope that people can change. I think that scared me even more.

One of my sourcemates trusted me almost the entire time we were in that death game- in my canon finale she finally came up to me and said No, she's done believing in me, she's done helping me, she probably hates me now because of everything I've done. She left me to die, and honestly? I don't blame her. In the system, she was terrified of me. She would start to panic every time she was near me. Sometimes I tried to make it worse. But one day I was in front, starting to panic because I was frontstuck for a doctor's appointment I had no memory of what for. And... she was the one who comforted me. She was the one who helped me back out of front. She was also terrified the entire time, but when I seemed to make it clear I wasn't going to lash out, she settled right in to help. She hated our source- hated how everyone was constantly arguing, hated how many betrayals and backstabbings there were. When we introjected me and all my sourcemates, pretty much everyone else realised there's no reason to fight or distrust each other here and everyone became friends pretty quickly. She was ecstatic about that- she still is. She was kind of sad that I was the only one being excluded. She was determined to help me have that, too.

My alter turned brother really really wanted to attack me for nearly killing our best friend. He was actually the one everyone had to hold back from hurting me the most. And... he was also the first person to believe in me in this system. He thought, since we were a system in source, despite us being so different the things that were a part of him were also a part of me. If he had the capacity to be violent, I had the capacity to be kind. He was the first to try to convince the others to be kinder to me. Eventually I realised the amount of damage I'd done to him forcing him into dormancy all those years. He still believed he wasn't any older than twenty, to a point where in source when people called him old he would actually get scared and confused. He still presents that young in headspace. I'd call us twins if it weren't for that, it's just I'm in my mid-30s and he never even got to experience adulthood. I'm kind of glad that our body here is only just starting our twenties. It's like he gets a second chance. He was the main one trying to show me that the people i hated were in fact people. He's the closest now to our best friend I nearly killed. That friend started to be okay with me as soon as my brother did, he trusted my brother's judgement completely. Both of them were so nice to me. I felt like I didn't deserve it for what I'd done not only in source, but my entrance to the system as well. They tried their hardest to convince me otherwise.

I still feel like I don't deserve any of this kindness, don't fully understand why this has all happened. I still keep going on about how I don't even know if I've really changed, can I really change at all- they remind me that I'm so afraid to hurt anyone now that i won't even pick up a weapon now for like... any reason. That seems like change. I'm protective of them. I actually feel guilt, something I never did before. That seems like change. All of my sourcemates have warmed up to me now, all of us are friends. I love them. I protect them where I can, and in turn they protect me. I've learned how to cry again. I've learned how to laugh again. The first time they saw me genuinely smile here everyone cheered, it was so ridiculous but so sweet. Recently we watched through a playthrough of god of war ragnarok, and that kind of hit me close to home, but then everybody told me specifically to watch the valhalla dlc and it kind of broke me. They all want so badly to prove to me that I have changed and I do deserve this kindness now. I love them so much. I wouldn't trade any of this for the world. I'm so glad they were all so damn determined to help me change. Now I do the same for others in the system who are similar to how I used to be. I don't think I can express enough how much they all mean to me. I have a family now, when I was so convinced that after losing my parents I was going to be alone for the rest of my life. I feel their love and care around me like a blanket all the time now. I'm never, ever letting that go.

I really, really love this system.

#THIS!! this is what fictive rambles are for #this is a beautiful story and im so glad you decided to share it with us and we here at fictive culture is are so proud of you #fictive rambles

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spookyxsprinkles · 8 months ago

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🎨 Colour Theory, part 2: Vanishing Point [oneshot]

todoroki touya & poc friendly f!reader × shimura tenko.

this is readable as a standalone if you have no interest in the series. otherwise, i do not recommend skipping part 1. -> not safe for work // 13k words // AO3 // part 1. -> warnings: jealousy, established relationship, unrequited/one-sided pining, angst, smoking, swearing, dry humping, public nsfw, drugs, biting, licking, denial of feelings, slow burn, trust issues, friendship, frozen yogurt, drama, musical theater, fine arts au.

summary: when you love your best friend, but your best friend loves you.

Touya was too late.

Vanishing Point -- A point of space, usually located on the horizon line, where the parallel edges seem to converge, creating the illusion of intersection.

×X×

He dumped the pastry box onto an overfilled trashcan.

"Himiko, you can't just take food from the garbage!"

"Aw, c'mon, 'Chako! Look at how tasty this cake looks. The strawberries are such a pretty red!"

"Ahem," a resident advisor clears her throat in an attempt to re-capture the attention of the high school group she was showing around. "This is the south campus bus stop. The southern resident halls are down this path."

The R.A. once again lost their attention, with students murmuring amongst themselves as Touya walked by.

"Hey, isn't that guy from that one movie?" Asked one particularly loud kid.

He pulls his hood up, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he stepped inside a convenience store for a moment before he continued his walk. It was a twenty minute walk to the lakeside park at the edge of campus so he put on his earbuds to listen to music to help clear his head. He ended up skipping every song that came on shuffle. They all reminded him of you.

He huffed in frustration as he took a seat on the bench, lighting his cigarette. It was simple muscle memory from a time when he only ever felt low. And, as if he'd never broken the habit in the first place, his lungs easily accepted the poison and he held his breath for a while to really let the toxins coat his insides. Unfortunately for him, the tobacco taste wasn't enough to hide the feeling of bile threatening to come up ever since he saw you with that creep.

Touya was too late.

In the three years that he'd known you, he'd never seen you look at another person with romantic intent and he figured a guy like Tenko wouldn't be on your radar. Not in a way that mattered to Touya, at least.

He had teased you for possibly having a crush on him, but didn't think you actually liked the guy. He thought that was just how you were when meeting new people sometimes. You did the whole clingy thing with him, after all, and there wasn't any kind of energy coming from you that made him think you were interested in anything with anyone. Sure, you were a hopeless romantic, but Touya also knew how busy the life of a performing arts major was. Neither of you would've had much time for anyone outside of the musical theater bubble, or so he thought until Valentine's Day.

He had overheard you telling Tenko about how you were placed in a children's home when you were young. That on it's own was surprising to him. You never willingly told anyone that, aside from two people. A close friend in high school and Touya. When he heard the practice room go silent, he peeked through the window and saw you holding Tenko's hand. He had to intervene. He knew what was likely to come next.

Touya had spent the last few weeks trying to get you to look at him, and you did, but the shift in your tone whenever Tenko came up in conversation made him feel like he was losing a game he'd never agreed to be a part of. Touya wasn't a quitter but Touya also knew this wasn't the kind of thing you could win with the brute force he was accustomed to approaching obstacles with. You weren't an obstacle, you were you and he didn't want to hurt you, but when it came to handling his feelings he was still… weak.

He had been deep in thought, glaring at the water when his phone rang in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw it was a video call from the last person he wanted to talk to right now.

He clicked the red button, only to be repeatedly texted.

[10:44am] Fuyumi: Tou, she just told me.

[10:48am ] Fuyumi: Are you alright? I'm sorry.

Touya groaned. His sister was blaming herself.

[10:58am] Touya: im not turning on my cam

Fuyumi calls him again and he takes one more inhale of his cigarette before snubbing it against the metal armrest of the bench and pocketing the butt. He couldn't on good conscience smoke with her worrying about him on the other side. She had been so proud of him for finally quitting.

He answers the call and sees his sister in her work clothes. "Aren't you supposed to be teaching brats how to read?"

"I have twelve minutes left in my lunch break." She lifts her salad bowl to show him her meal before setting it down. "Tou, I'm sorry. I thought you were the person she liked."

He snorts, "She didn't even give you a name?"

Fuyumi shook her head as her fork pushed a tomato around her bowl. "No. I thought that she was being shy since I'm your sister."

"S'fine, Yumi." It was.

"Did you get to give her the mini cake?"

"Nah. Gave it to the less fortunate."

"I'm glad someone can enjoy your hard work. Are you skipping class?"

"Nope. Free time." He leaned back on the bench, stretching out his legs.

"Don't you have seminar right now?"

Touya lifted a brow, "How the hell would you know that? She tell you my class schedule, too?"

She shook her head, "No. She mentioned she had to go to seminar and since you're both in the same classes…" She gave him a stern look, "You shouldn't skip class, Tou."

"Eh, no big deal. It's seminar. Not even my turn to sing this week." It was yours.

"When you videocalled me to help you bake that cake two weeks ago, I was so happy for you. It was really sweet getting cake updates. You really improved with each one. I'm sorry things didn't go the way you planned." She looked at him with concern and he sighed.

"Don't apologize, it's weird now."

"No it's not? I thought you've been getting used to talking about feelings?"

"That's different. You're my sister."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'm not talking about this anymore."

Now it was her turn to sigh. "Come visit some time. It's been a while."

"Three months. You saw me over Christmas."

"Mom misses you."

Touya took a moment to swallow. "I'll think about it. I'm a busy guy. You should eat your sad little salad, lunch is over in 2 minutes."

Fuyumi flails and they exchange goodbyes. The call ends, leaving Touya in the quiet. He shut his eyes, listening to wind rustle tree leaves and ducks quack in the distance. A drop of water on his cheek interrupts his moment. He opens his eyes and sees grey clouds rolling above him. He stands and stretches, before jogging hurriedly to the south campus parking garage.

He didn't want to show up at the house soaked and make his mother worry.

×X×

"Touya's been weird lately."

You pulled out a blanket from your laundry basket and began to fold it as Tenko sat at your desk chair, sketching. "He's been missing classes, too."

"Won't he get dropped..?" Tenko asks while admiring your movements, pencil dancing along the paper. Even the mundane could be captivating, so as long as you were the subject.

"He might. He hasn't missed this many classes during the time that I've known him. I'm starting to get worried…"

"…wasn't he known for partying?" It was a simple question.

You finished folding the blankets and moved the throws to the edge of your bed to be used later. You crawled in bed, leaning against the wall as you hugged a light blue blanket. Touya bought you this one since you were always getting cold. It was soft and smelled fresh as you clutched it closer to you.

"He was. He quit after enrolling, though. For the most part."

Todoroki Touya's past wasn't a secret. After he graduated high school, he took a break and spent some time partying on college campuses. For a while, he was routinely dubbed by the tabloids as another talented child star turned drug addicted burn out due to the number of sightings of him getting trashed.

You remembered the sloppy smirk he gave you when he called it his 'tour,' which made you roll your eyes. You knew he had no intention of getting to know the schools beyond getting smashed and smashing his 'guides.'

If someone were to search his name, they would find articles and forums filled with gossip. The public's view of him wasn't the best, even if the family Public Relations team did their best to tidy things up. Aside from dating rumors, there had been less dirt since the tabloids lost interest in him during his mostly quiet three years at university.

The underage drinking and smoking rumors that lingered in the downvoted bottom end of the comment sections never had any proof and any photos were usually edited or lookalikes. Though, fan accounts were usually… negative. Touya was the type of person who wasn't afraid of letting people know that he'd rather be left alone. In his own colourful ways, of course.

"This is our third year and he hasn't missed any class until now. He's got a messy public image but he's actually quite serious about university…" You chew on your bottom lip, hugging the blanket while sitting in bed. The warm lighting from the fairy lights hanging around your dorm gave the room a cozy feeling, however, it wasn't enough ease your stress at the moment. "I think he's avoiding me."

Your quiet voice had brought the pencil in Tenko's hand to a standstill. His eyes peered at you through his dark, wavy hair and met yours. You smiled sheepishly, "Sorry. I don't mean to be a downer. You came to hang out and all I've done is laundry and talk about another guy..."

"Why would that bother me..?"

"I think most people would feel a little threatened by someone like him."

Tenko eyed you for a moment, before setting down his pencil. "I already knew he was your best friend prior to our relationship. I don't feel threatened by Touya."

"Really?"

He nodded, "If he's important to you then he's important to me."

You felt your face heat up and you ignore the urge to shove your face into the blanket. You had been dating for a little over a month now and were used to the idea of Tenko being your boyfriend, but there were still moments every now and then that made you feel flustered. He was quiet, sweet, and always found a way to make time for you. It meant a lot considering your busy schedule. He was happy doing whatever you wanted to do, which made it a bit difficult to plan to do things he might want to do, but you were working on it. Tenko was a shy guy.

You did most of the talking and he seemed happy to listen. You didn't know much about his life before university, aside from the two of you bonding over being rejected by peers growing up, due to the societal prejudice towards children raised in orphanages. You didn't mind not know everything about him because what mattered the most to you was how well the two of you got along now. Maybe you didn't know where he was from or what his favourite colour was, but you knew he was a hard worker that also went out of his way to try and make you happy.

"Does it bother you that my best friend is a guy?"

Tenko seemed to ponder your question for a moment before continuing his drawing. "No."

It's not that you thought Tenko was a liar, but you really had a hard time believing that. You knew that it was only platonic between you and Touya, yet it didn't stop other people from thinking there was something more going on. You didn't care that much anymore about what people thought. Tenko's thoughts on the matter did matter to you, though.

"However," Tenko continued, "It seems to bother him."

You felt a lump begin to form in your throat.

"Yeah..." You could only softly agree.

It wasn't like Touya was missing every class. He was missing the ones he shared with you. For the past three years, you had been his usual partner whenever the professors let you choose who to work with. Ever since you started dating Tenko he went back to his previous partner and stopped showing up to your usual practice times. He hadn't even shown up at the gym while you were there.

It felt like you were losing your best friend.

You hear an intake of breath and look over at Tenko, realizing he looked blurry because you were crying. You wipe your eyes against the blanket, then remember the annoyed look Touya gave you when he first threw this blanket at you and walked away. To anyone else, it would seem like it was a chore for him to be kind to you, but you also remember the look of content on his face when it reflected off a wall mirror he walked past.

You broke down crying.

It was so sad that your best friend didn't want to be with you anymore.

You wipe your eyes against the blanket one more time and sniffle before looking over at Tenko who was just staring at you like he didn't know how to react at a time like this. He probably didn't.

You sniffle. "Can you sit next to me?"

He did not waste a second and went to where you sat on your bed. He hesitantly sat beside you, leaving two feet of space in between as he leaned his back against the cool wall of your dorm.

You snort, "Do I smell?"

"Huh..?"

"You're so far away." You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. "You can come closer, you know. If you're comfortable with that."

Tenko swallowed and nodded his head a bit eagerly, which made you smile as he moved to sit beside you. He stiffened when your shoulders brushed against each other. The two of you had kissed many times since Valentine's Day but Tenko always seemed like he was trying to be careful with you. It was like he was holding himself back.

"Tenko," you say, your sweet voice made him shiver. "You're so nervous. Don't worry, I won't make you do anything. I just wanted to be closer with you."

Tenko fidgeted with his sleeve and looked at you from the corner of his eye. "What if… I want you to make me do something. What if I wanted to be even closer..?"

You did not expect that.

"Are you sure?"

Tenko looks at you and nods. You weren't really sure how he meant it. You wanted to ask but you couldn't. Your eyes were stuck staring into his.

The only sounds in the room were the air conditioning unit and the blood pumping in your ears. You licked your lips in anticipation. For what, you didn't know, not until Tenko's eyes dropped down to your lips and he licked his own. There was the sound of something in the distance of an origin you weren't so sure of. Was that your heart or his?

Your lips crash against each other, hands reaching for as much as your hands could hold, pulling your bodies as tightly together as possible.

You gasp as the actions finally register, your chest pressing against his while he kissed you deeply. He had gotten better with practice and you enjoyed that he wasn't a shy kisser. His demeanor was typically timid, save for when he kissed you. His lips always felt hungry for yours and right now he was a man starved.

You let yourself fall back onto the bed, pulling him on top of you. You adjusted your legs so that they were wrapped around his waist. He leaned on one arm while the other rubbed up and down your side, as if trying to commit the shape and feeling of you to memory. His wavy hair tickled your face and you let out a giggle. He froze and looked at you, wide-eyed as if he was just now aware of everything going on.

"I always thought your eyes were brown, but are they actually… red?" You ask while looking up at his blushing face. His pupils were blown wide, but the hanging lights reflected off of his iris's and made his eyes shine a deep shade of scarlet.

"Am I going too far..?" He asks in a small voice with anxious eyes.

You shake your head. "I don't mind going further. How about you?"

He dives back in to catch your lips with his own.

During your heated make out session, you pulled your shirt up, allowing Tenko to see you in your bra and you swore you could hear him growl before he squeezed the soft skin over the fabric. Your hips grind up against his and he ground back against your clothed core, surprising you with his eagerness.

The two of you rock against one another while kissing. Bed creaking loudly from Tenko's excitement, which you could feel and it was much larger than you expected.

You gasp his name as he rutted against you, which spurred him on. He tried to keep kissing you but his jaw went slack as he moved his hips furiously.

You heard the sound of the door of the dorm next door opening and closing, Touya's voice booming as he argued with someone over the phone.

Tenko didn't seem to notice. He was much too occupied with moving your bra out of the way and staring at your bare chest as he rocked your body. His movements felt incredible, yet you couldn't pull your focus away from Touya's voice in the room next door. He had been ignoring you and you missed him but you also knew that getting dry humped by your boyfriend quite literally was not the time to be thinking about your best friend.

Touya was shouting at the feminine voice he had on speaker. You could hear most of what he was saying through the walls and you hoped he didn't hear the rhythmic metallic squeaking of the old bed because you were sure it would make him want to talk to you even less.

"I already told you, I don't care! Fuck them, if they wanna run those articles then let 'em. Leave me out of your P.R. bullshit."

Things must really not be going well for Touya and you wished that he would talk to you. Even if it didn't sound like the kind of thing you could fix, you knew he would need a friend at a time like this. Tenko, who was lost in the moment, bit your nipple, hard. A whine escaped you and Tenko's body shuddered in response, groaning loudly as he came in his pants.

Touya immediately stopped mid-sentence and paused for a moment. The person on the other end of the line is confused by his sudden silence and Touya hangs up on them.

Tenko sunk his teeth into your neck.

"Tenko..!" You yelped.

You could hear the sound of the door slam, followed by boots stomping down the hallway, getting farther and farther away.

"You're mine," his voice was deeper and hoarser than you'd ever heard it before. Tenko seemed to have different sides of him that came out at different times. He licked the side of your neck slowly then hugged you tightly against him. You kissed the top of his head and heard him whimper before he looked at you with pleading eyes. He squeezed you closer and peppered your neck and chest with kisses, leaving your skin coloured with deep purple hickies.

×X×

"Touya, slow down!"

You were trying to talk to him, but the head up his ass was making it a bit difficult. At first, you thought he was avoiding you because he wanted to give you space now that you were in a relationship, but it was July now. He had given you the cold shoulder for four months.

He stopped skipping classes and continued to cooperate with the theater department to participate in a musical. You were very thankful that he was able to set aside his personal grievances and kept things professional, especially since two of you were the main leads again.

Now, if only you could get him to treat you like a friend and not just an acting dummy meant to be fed lines to. He seriously hadn't spoken with you about anything that wasn't school-related.

"I don't wanna hear you whining about the damn cigarettes," he stuck a lit stick back between his lips after taking a deep breath.

It was the time of night you knew he'd be itching for a smoke, so you waited for him to leave his dorm to corner him at the smoking area outside. It was pathetic and you didn't care. You wanted to talk with your best friend.

"I wasn’t going to, but while we're on the subject-- You quit. What happened? Is it because of what they're saying about you online?"

There had been online articles circulating about Touya and it was… not great. They were even starting to bring his family into it. Touya was someone who didn't seem to care about a lot of things but he was still a human being.

"Yeah?" He laughed. "Really breaks my heart to hear that the celebrity gossip sites think I'm a junkie. Boo hoo. This why you're out here? To have a midnight heart to heart beside a dumpster?"

"I feel like we're drifting apart and it scares me."

Touya smirked at you as he inhaled before he blew the fumes up at the starry night, the breeze carrying the smoke away from you. "How touching," he mocked. "Luckily for you, you got a nice little boyfriend to go crying to now."

"So, it really is about Tenko, then?" You took a step forward. "Are you scared it'll mess up our friendship if I spend time with someone else? Do you feel replaced--"

"You know," he interrupted. "You're the only person who knows shit about me. How do I know you're not the one selling me out?"

Your eyes widen at the accusation. "I wouldn't sell you out, Touya."

"No?" He lifted a brow, seemingly unconvinced.

"No. I wouldn't. Giving up your privacy for the sake of money, that's…" You shook your head. "I wouldn't do that to you."

"I think it'd be more pathetic if you did it for free. At least do yourself a favor and take the money."

"I'm-- I…" You were stunned. He knew your financial situation and still said something like that. You swallow down the lump in your throat. "I know you're just saying that to get me to leave. I'm not falling for it. You're a private person, so no one else really knows as much as I do, which makes me a reasonable suspect. I-- You know deep down that I wouldn't do that to you."

"Do I?" His icy eyes were lit up by the moon as he stared at you, cold and empty.

He really didn't believe you?

You would never talk about his private life to anyone.

You wouldn't and you knew that he knew you wouldn't.

Still.

It hurt.

"Don't corner me while I'm smoking just to talk about nothing." He dropped the butt of his cigarette in the hole of the cigarette receptacle.

"It's not nothing," you say as he passes by you to walk down the walkway, away from the dorms. You followed, legs struggling to keep up with him. His legs were longer, which made it hard for you unless he was consciously slowing down. Right now it seemed like he was trying to get away.

"Sure."

"Touya, I--"

"Whatever. I'm gonna crash somewhere else for the night. Feel free to fuck like rabbits."

Your face heats up, from embarrassment and frustration. "W-Where are you going at this time of night?" Probably nowhere good.

"Why? So you can tell your buddies at TMZ? Here, let me help you out." He turned to face you from the other side of the street. He looked amused as he cupped his hands around the sides of his mouth and shouted, "Hey, you southern dormitory fucks! Todoroki Touya's on his way to a party to do illegal drugs! Lots of 'em!"

"Touya..!" You spoke in a hushed tone as you look both ways before crossing the street. "Don't yell stuff like that. You don't know who's listening."

"No, I do." The toothy grin on his face wracked your nerves as you approached him. You frown as you watched him spin gracefully with a hand in the air, before bowing ninety degrees. "Any performer worth their salt knows their audience and tonight… it's you."

He stays in his bow as he offers his hand for you to take while looking up at you. You look at his hand then at his eyes that finally looked at you with more than indifference.

It wasn't unusual for you and Touya to touch -- you were actors. On stage, you've held hands, held each other. Kissed. Off stage, you've used him as a pillow and he's leaned in so close that it felt like he was on top of you. Since becoming friends with him, he'd never once made you feel uncomfortable with his proximity.

However, there was something about the way he said something earlier, and the way it mixed with the way he was acting right now that made you hesitate.

Why did it feel like it would be wrong to take his hand?

"Touya, I--" Your voice broke into a hoarse whisper, "I can't."

You didn't know what that meant, simply that you could not.

Touya takes a moment to stare back up at you, the chill in his eyes immediately returning before standing upright and walking away from you. He wordlessly entered the parking garage as you stood there watching his back disappear from sight.

The sinking feeling in your stomach didn't disappear during your walk back to your dorm.

Tenko was where you left him, slouched at your desk as he studied for his Calculus II exam. Any hope of finishing his study packet was abandoned when he saw your face. You had tried washing your face with water to hide any trace of crying from him, but Tenko knew.

He hurried to your side and you wept against his chest as he held you and pat the top of your head.

"What happened… were you not able to talk to him..?"

You shook your head, "I think-- I think you were right." Tenko didn't out right say it but you could see it on his face over the last few months that he had his own thoughts on the matter. He was so respectful. "I think Touya might've-- had feelings for me."

Tenko rubbed your back in place of speaking. He was a very physically affectionate person. His hands were always on you and in this moment, you really appreciated it.

"I don't want to lose my friend."

Tenko gently dragged you to the bed to hold you in his embrace. He let you cry it out for ten minutes until you had no more tears left in you.

"I'm gonna go shower now, Ten." You half-cover your face in humiliation. You knew you probably looked bad after all that crying. It was so embarrassing that he saw you cry twice now. You knew it wasn't pretty.

"Hey…" He gripped your wrist and pulled it out of the way to see your face, "Don't hide from me…"

"I look gross," you laughed softly.

"You don't."

You felt your face heat up at the hungry look he was giving you. His eyes lowered to your lips and you knew what he was thinking.

"I'll be right back," you peck his cheek. "I need to wash off. It'll be a good chance to clear my head." You stood and collected your things for your shower. As you turn the door knob, you hear him make a noise behind you. You turn your head, "Sorry. What'd you say?"

"I…" Tenko's face heated and he itched the side of his neck, "…said have a nice shower."

You smile and nod as you opened the door.

You knew that wasn't what he said.

×X×

Touya got arrested.

He was released, not before being questioned and taking a urine test. He kept eye contact with the officer in the room and made casual conversation while taking it. The filthy pigs were biased but it didn't mean Touya was gonna lose his dignity over a little piss test. The only crime he was guilty of was drinking two shitty beers and eating some rando's snacks.

The party had been at some rich no-name's house in the neighboring city. A few days earlier, his old dealer had invited him and Touya knew that it wasn't because he wanted to see him again. If Touya was there it would guarantee him some more customers that night. Touya himself had no interest in it.

He also couldn't stay on campus after that conversation -- especially in the dorm next to yours. For fuck's sake, your beds were pushed up against the same wall. He did not want to be a witness to whatever freaky shit Tenko had cooking up in that mop of a head. There was something about that guy that Touya didn't like.

And, no, he was not being biased.

He could hear you in his head and it only served to piss him off even more. That night was the first and last time he heard you with Tenko, making those… sounds.

He didn't want to risk hearing that again.

It took hours upon hours of music to distract him from the noise you made. It still lingered in the back of his head (regretfully keeping him company on lonelier nights), albeit it wasn't as loud as it was four months ago.

What did help was the house's sound system. He almost didn't mind that it was worsening his headache as it reverberated throughout the house and made the pantry shelving shake. There was a pile of fallen snacks surrounding him where he sat against the wall as his bones rattled to the beat of someone's bass boosted hyperpop playlist.

He could almost hear the sound of the potheads trying to break into the pantry from over the music. He leaned back and ate unbothered until the music got cut off and cops shouted at people to get on the ground. He finished his bag of dried fruit. They came sooner than he thought they would.

He had been wondering if there was some kind of undercover sting operation going on. Something about the party felt off.

Drugs weren't particularly hard to come by on a college campus, but he did find it kind of ridiculous how much more seemed to be in circulation recently. Amphetamines, coke, and weed were the more common ones amongst the college crowd in the area but this semester he had been offered on three different occasions if he wanted ketamine. Touya was already having a bad time and he wasn't about to make things worse for himself. He was pretty good at doing that on his own.

He was currently sat in the passenger's seat. He stared out the window with his arms crossed as he was driven back to campus. "You're not gonna ask?"

"Would you answer if I did?"

"Hell no."

The ride was silent as Todoroki Enji drove down the highway. No sooner than three minutes later, Touya went on a tangent.

"--and I'm sick of your P.R. team expecting me to care. Tch, it's not like I even have a career anymore. How is it my problem if you lose a role? Get better at your job so that the casting team has something to actually talk about that isn't your drug addicted son."

His father was silent as Touya stewed in his seat. They'll say anything, whether it was the truth or a lie. "I'm not worried about those vultures. Fuck them."

"…I hear that school's been going well for you…" His father awkwardly started. He sighed. "No matter what the headlines have been saying recently, I never doubted you, Touya. You're too smart to do what they're saying."

Touya wants to laugh because he was indeed partying hard during his gap year but his old man didn't need to know that.

"Fuck them," Enji says, which surprised Touya. His father didn't often swear anymore unless it was for work. "You were right when you said it. Though your shouting did scare the P.R. team's new intern."

Touya turns his head back to the window to stare at the streets of the city, unable to resist a smirk. Enji was never a fan of the paparazzi but he still put up with them even if the reception wasn't very good. He had never enjoyed Touya's more abrasive approach to warding them off either, an approach which consisted of constantly flipping off cameras and mocking them back whenever they tried to get a reaction out of him. Still, the validation from his father made him feel good. Not that he'd ever admit that to him.

"After you finish your musical, you should invite her to come have dinner with us again. It's been a while since you brought her over. She was hardly here over Christmas since you took her to that ski resort in Hokkaido."

"Don't hold your breath."

Enji looks over at him like he wants to say something but doesn't know how to word it, then looked back at the road.

Touya sulked. "There's another guy."

He didn't wanna talk about this but he also felt the urge to. Enji was the last person he expected to bring it up with. Natsu would at least give him a "damn, that sucks, man." What the fuck was his old man supposed to say to that? He was pretty sure Enji had only ever been with one person.

"I see..."

Touya rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh that blew up his bangs and fogged up the glass window.

"Touya, I don't have much dating experience..."

He sighed again, this time for more fog and pressed his finger to the cool glass.

"Don't let that stop you. I've seen how you are with her. She's good for you."

"That what they teach you in therapy? Bond with your delinquent son by encouraging him to be a homewrecker?" He added a little stick body to his absentminded doodle. "She's not the type to fall for that and if she were, I wouldn't care nearly as much. She's a loyal little idiot." He glared at the stick figure that glowed colourfully from the neon city lights outside. The clueless little face reminded him a bit too much of you.

"I want you to do what's best for you."

"Fuck you, old man. I'm not a homewrecker," Touya grumbled as he clicked the button that lowered the window. He watched as the doodle disappeared into the slit of the car door. He propped his arm against the window as his father drove through the campus entrance. The night breeze felt like a relief as the cool chill of reality brushed against his skin.

×X×

[02:48am] Touya: hey

[02:48am] Touya: you up

[02:49am] You: yeah!

[02:49am] You: is everything okay??

[02:49am] Touya: you alone

[02:49am] You: no. tenko's sleeping.

[02:50am] You: did you want to talk?

[02:55am] Touya: no

[02:56am] You: ...you didn't want to talk?

[02:56am] Touya: nope

[02:56am] You: i want to talk

[02:56am] Touya: gn

[02:57am] You: HEY

[02:57am] You: if you won't talk to me to my face then i'll just have to do it with a wall in between us

[02:58am] You: ...

[02:58am] You: actually nvm this is a face to face kind of talk

[02:58am] Touya: im blocking you

[02:59am] You: can we meet in the lounge?

[02:59am] You: the one without the kitchen

[02:59am] You: where you tripped me during line practice last year

[02:59am] Touya: you tripped yourself

[02:59am] You: don't gaslight me

[03:00am] Touya: [Sends a photo of his left hand. It was tinted blue from his LED lights as he flipped you off.]

[03:00am] You: thank you for the hand content i will be sharing this with the touya fan accounts on twitter :)

[03:01am] You: jk jk don't kill me

[03:01am] You: i heard your door open i said JK!!!

[03:02am] Touya: im in the lounge

[03:02am] Touya: get your ass out here its 3am

[03:02am] You: the witching hour

[03:03am] You: you scared?

[03:03am] You: i'll save you >:)

[03:03am] Touya: you never shut up

[03:04am] You: gimme a sec i don't wanna wake him up he's got a 7am

[03:04am] Touya: hurry upp

[03:07am] Touya: how longs it take to put on shoes

[03:11am] Touya: hey

[03:14am] Touya: hey

[03:14am] Touya: did you fucking fall asleep

[03:18am] Touya: cmonnn

[03:28am] Touya: im going back to my room

×X×

"Don't bother."

"I'm sorry."

He continued walking past you as he left rehearsal to have a cigarette for lunch. You followed him outside the performing arts building, struggling with the long bangs of your wig that poked at your eyeballs. You woke up late and didn't have a chance to eat breakfast, yet the feeling of guilt pooling in the bottom of your gut kept you from feeling hungry.

"I fell asleep. I really was going to see you, okay?"

A sound of amusement left his lips as he placed the unlit cig between them. He patted his pockets and grunted in annoyance as he looked for something. His lighter, you assumed.

"Thought I told you not to corner me while I'm smoking."

Technically, "You're not smoking."

"Listen," he leaned against a brick wall and removed the cigarette from his mouth and glared at you. "Why don't you make this easier for us and go back inside, yeah?"

"No--"

"I get it, it was three am. Y'got tired, fell asleep. No harm, no foul." He looked down at the cigarette as he rolled it between his index and thumb, "While you were having sweet, sweet dreams, I thought about it some more and decided it's better off this way."

"What? You--" Your mouth went dry, "Y-You thought about what, exactly?"

"We're busy people. You've already got your free time filled up and I don't do second best."

You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, feel your hands as they trembled at your sides.

"You're… this is taking it too far…" Your voice went quiet.

He tilts his head, his face was blank. "Am I?" Empty.

The side door opens and a cast member told you that your boyfriend was looking for you.

"I'll meet him in the lobby in a bit…"

"Hey, Raita, you got a light?" Touya lifted his cigarette. "Left mine in the dressing room in my other pants."

"No worries, I got you, man." They pulled out a lighter and held it up to his cigarette until the end burned bright orange. They left and you watched Touya as he smoked.

For a few minutes, the two of you stood there in the quiet. You struggled with which words to say. Your mind was spinning.

"I didn't fall asleep on purpose," Your voice sounded tired from the racing of your thoughts.

"Yeah, I bet you were really struggling to get out of bed, huh?" He said bitterly.

"This is excessive. I know you're upset, but please…" She didn't want this to be the reason they couldn't finally reconcile.

The side door opens again and a familiar black mop of hair pokes out and smiles at you.

Tenko had been bringing you lunch during rehearsals for the last couple of weeks. They weren't handmade but that didn't make it any less thoughtful. You hadn't been able to see him much since the two of you had been so busy with your own projects and studying for finals. Tenko did his best to make you feel taken care of and it was so incredibly sweet. The timing could not be worse.

"I'm interrupting… I'll wait for you at the table."

"Actually," Touya leaned against the brick wall, "We're done here."

"Really..?" Tenko looks at him, then at you. You were panicking.

"She's all yours." Touya blew his smoke to the side away from the two of you.

You chew on your bottom lip and leave with Tenko who seemed hesitant, but didn't force you to stay.

Lunch with Tenko was good.

It was from a shop near campus that you liked. He had brought you your favourite meal and drink. You could tell he wanted to cheer you up and was unsure of how to do that. His chin rest against your shoulder as his fingers twitched anxiously. You took his hand into one of your own to soothe him.

"It's fine," you hide a sniffle with a bite of your food.

It wasn't but it had to be.

×X×

"Are you thinking about Touya..?"

You're pulled from your thoughts at the sound of Tenko's voice coming from behind you as he walked to your side. You swallow and look over at him with a weak smile.

"Yeah…"

He made a quiet noise of acknowledgement as he looked at the painting you had been staring at. It was a warm-toned piece with flecks of vivid cerulean and violet that blended into pink and crimson. The little white label beneath the painting read:

"Forever, 2223

Oil on canvas

A celebration of friendship."

You knew that it was stupid. You knew you should be angry at how easily Touya threw you away at the first sign of trouble. Yet you could only feel compassion for the friend that had been pretending you no longer existed.

It seemed like it was easy for him to push you away, to act like he wanted nothing to do with you. Then you remember that this was also the same person who had made sure you weren't lonely during holidays and invited you into his life.

Touya had shared with you his hurt and his joy, the same way you had shared with him your own. Three years ago, Touya was a person who could only trust himself to catch himself whenever he fell. With you, he had learned to take leaps of faith every time he entrusted you with pieces of himself.

It seemed like he was giving up on you, when in reality he was giving up on his first healthy friendship in a long, long time. The very thought put you in distress.

Tenko hugged you from behind, placing his chin on your shoulder. His body held you close and tore you from your downwards spiral. You didn't think your face had given away much of the storm that brewed inside of you for months. You had tried to put on a brave face around Tenko. Perhaps he knew you better than you thought.

Tenko's hands fiddle with the hem of your top as he buried his face into your neck, making you feel shy.

"We're in a gallery full of your classmates and professors…"

"They're all too busy schmoozing with each other to notice us in this corner..." He placed a kiss into the crook of your neck which made your skin prickle up with cute little goosebumps. "Soft…" His tongue licked a stripe teasingly against your neck and you shivered in his arms.

The gallery room was large and dimly lit, with the only light sources being the lamps angled to light up the artwork. There were a little less than eighty people in the room talking amongst themselves, when Tenko's hand slipped beneath the fabric of your bottoms.

His finger lightly rubbed the front of your panties. You should've told him to stop but in just three months Tenko had quickly learned the in's and out's of your body. He knew exactly what to do to make you desperate for more.

You squirm in his arms as you felt him maneuver his fingers. He pushed your panties to the side as he let his finger slowly swipe up your slick pussy. He chuckled darkly at the sound of you quietly gasping his name. The tip of his finger softly played with your clit and you gnawed on your bottom lip to keep yourself from making a scene.

You could feel Tenko's determination to hear you break from his movements as he moved his fingers in the way that guaranteed a quick finish for you. You wriggled a bit in his tight hold which kept you in place. You were so close, you could feel yourself on the verge of cumming in a room full of academics at any moment now.

"Oh, there you are, Shimura! We were looking for you!!"

You stiffened at the voices walking up from behind the two of you. Tenko growled and you almost didn't think he was going to pull his hand away until he begrudgingly did so and turned.

"Ah, Professor Yamada," Tenko gave a 30 degree bow in greeting to one of your professors. Yamada was a nosey man that had become acquainted with Tenko after noticing your relationship with each other.

"Aizawa and I came to see your display. It was one of our favourites!"

"I don't have favourites and I had to come. I'm a Studio Art professor." Aizawa corrected.

"It's incredible!" The chipper professor continued, "I see your muse is here with you tonight. Music and Art go hand in hand, you know!" He grabbed ahold of Aizawa's arm.

"That's my arm and no P.D.A. These are our students." Aizawa snatched his arm back, causing Yamada to pout audibly. The art professor looked at you with eyes that made you feel like he knew what had been going on before they had interrupted. Your face burned with embarrassment and your pussy throbbed as it missed Tenko's touch.

Tenko took his hand in yours as he discussed the exhibit and his art with the professors. It was the same hand he had in your pants a minute earlier and you could feel his finger rub the patterns you liked against the palm of your hand.

You still didn't know his favourite colour, but now you knew he liked to toy with you.

After the professors left, Tenko continued holding your hand as he walked out of the building and the two of you took the campus bus to the train station at the northern side of campus. While you waited for the next train, you opened your bag and pulled out your travel hand sanitizer and squirted fat goops into his hand and yours. Tenko deflated.

"Tenko," you laugh. "We can't just walk around in public with cummy hands. That's dirty."

With a pursed lips he wordlessly rubbed the antibacterial against his skin and let them air dry. A minute later, the train rolled up and they stepped on. It was the afternoon and the train was crowded from workers heading home. Tenko and you stayed standing near the doors since you were only riding for a couple stops. He placed his chin back on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around your waist again. You didn't want to get caught and fined for public indecency, so this time, you kept his hands busy by playing with his nimble fingers.

The train reaches the stop and the two of you walk a few blocks to reach a whale themed frozen yogurt bar. You each greeted the worker and grabbed your bowls while talking. After choosing your yogurt flavours and toppings, the two of you head for the register. You pull out your wallet and ignored Tenko's eyes on you as you did so.

"I'm paying."

You pout. You didn't have a job but it wouldn't hurt to use your food money on, well, food. You've had this conversation with him many times and he never budged. He seemed casual when saying the money was from his inheritance. That only served to stress you out more. He should've been saving it or using it for school, not on your dates.

"Tenko…" You whined as he paid. He grabbed your bowl and walked to a corner booth. "I wanna pay you back."

"You pay me back in different ways."

"Sex doesn't count." You pout as you sit beside him.

"I didn't mean that…" His cheeks held a sweet blush as he took a bite of his froyo.

"No?"

He shook his head.

"Then how?"

Tenko didn't answer. He was shy and didn't speak much about his own feelings and you didn't want to force it out of him. You were glad to hear a confirmation that your more intimate moments with him were not seen as transactional, not that you ever thought he saw it that way. You picked up your spoon and took a bite, enjoying the taste as you thought.

You watch him lick a sprinkle that had stuck to the edge of his lip and as he took another bite, your eyes stayed on his lips.

"Ten, I've always wondered…" You nibble on one of the toppings before continuing, "How'd you get that scar on your lip?"

Tenko's gummy worm fell from his spoon onto his lap and you used your napkin to help clean him up.

"I don't remember."

"Oh. Okay." You nod and set the napkin to the side and dig around your bowl in search of a topping you liked. You must have eaten them all.

You see Tenko moving in his seat in your peripheral and look up to see him holding a spoonful of his froyo with the topping sitting pretty on top.

"Say 'ah.'" Tenko ordered in a quiet voice.

You grin as you open your mouth for him, "Ahhh."

He moved the sweet treat into your mouth, your lips wrapping around the plastic of his spoon.

"Thank you," you snuggled into his side, hugging his arm.

"The award I won… it was thanks to you." Tenko said quietly as he pushed around a chocolate chip in his bowl. "I wouldn't have been able to do it without you, my muse."

You knew you were the subject of many of his works this semester, yet hearing him call you his muse filled your face with heat and you nuzzled your face into his upper arm in an attempt to calm yourself down. Tenko could be the sweetest boyfriend.

After froyo, the two of you walk around a public garden at sunset. The sky was brilliant orange with pink hues, tinting the world in warmth.

"I really did love the exhibit. I got to see your finished work and watch people compliment you and discuss art with you. You were in your element. You also look really good in a blazer and bun."

Tenko wore an unbuttoned black blazer that showed his signature black hoodie underneath. His wavy black hair was usually loose, covering much of his face, but for the event you helped him tie it back in a loose bun. With his hair (mostly) out of the way, you could see more of his pretty facial features. You were pleased to see that his skin looked much healthier than it had when the two of you had started dating. You had helped him find a simple skin routine that worked well for him. Hydrated or not, Tenko would always be cute to you.

You smile warmly as he took your hand in his. "I don't quite have the words to articulate it well, but the colours were my favourite part. I took an art class in high school and I couldn't ever really grasp colour theory." You knew the terminology but in practice you weren't very successful with it. "I know that there's something called colour harmony and complimentary colours but beyond things like hue and saturation… I'm lost. I don't understand the difference between RGB and CMY. Is there even a difference?" You looked puzzled.

"There's a lot that goes into colour theory. To answer your question, there are two main approaches: additive and subtractive. In additive colour theory, which is commonly associated with RGB, colours are made by emitting light through a light-based display. An example would be the pixels on a monitor You can mix light colours to form new colours."

"Subtractive colour theory, also known as CMYK, creates colours by absorbing and reflecting light. CMYK are colours that're used in the physical world, like photography and prints. In printing, for example, Cyan, Magenta, Yellow, and black inks are combined to create a range of colours by subtracting certain wavelengths of light. By reflecting, it absorbs the colours that are not the one you see and subtracts the colour…"

He walked passed a fountain as he spoke and reached a shady area with a bench. "If we imagine both using Red, Green, and Blue then in additive theory, they would mix to become white and in subtractive theory, they would mix to become black. Mastering both makes it easier to manipulate colours more effectively."

You stared at him in awe and he nervously itched his neck as if he were self-conscious for casually info dumping on you.

"That… made a lot of sense actually. You're so smart, you know that?" You giggled as you swung your hands together.

Tenko took a seat on the bench and you moved to sit beside him, but he pulled you to sit on his lap. You squeaked in surprise as you fell back onto him. His arms were strong as they wrapped around you and he kissed your neck.

"Someone's feeling clingy today." You giggled as he breathed in your skin.

"Mmph. You did this to me..."

"I'm not complaining."

Tenko quietly kissed your neck for a moment before he slipped a hand back into your bottoms. You were surprised and looked around for any onlookers. It was only the two of you.

Tenko once again rubbed the front of your panties while kissing the side of your pretty neck. Your hips reflexively jerked against him and you whined in frustration.

"Don't tease me, Tenko…"

"You said it'd be dirty to be in public with cummy hands."

"I-- I don't care about that right now."

"How filthy..."

He licked at your neck, grinning wide as he slipped his hand into your panties. He massaged your clit, making you wriggle and pant in his lap. His other hand slipped under your top to squeeze at the sensitive skin of your chest. Your nipples perked and he kneaded one of them, making you squirm more.

You leaned your head back against his shoulder and felt your eyes roll with pleasure as he played with you. You opened your legs a bit more to allow him better access and he slid his fingers up and down your slit to collect your juices before he teased your hole.

"Tenko, please…"

He hungrily jammed two fingers into you, making you yelp. He momentarily released his hold of your breast to tilt your face towards him and took you into a kiss. He continued moving his fingers, pumping in and out of you at a slower pace that slowly increased to a more moderate one. You clenched around him as he brushed against your g-spot.

"Your pussy's driving me fucking crazy," he laughed darkly.

You shivered over him, "T-Tenko, I'm close..."

"Come on my fingers." The hand that wasn't in your pants wrapped around your throat, his fingers pressed on the sides. "Come for me, angel."

The nickname he gave you during intimate times was so sweet, so Tenko, that it was the catalyst for the dam to burst. You bit your lip and shook as you came.

With Tenko's incredible finger stamina, he removed himself from your hole to continue his rubbing against your clit even as you whimpered from the overstimulation.

"Tenko... I-I.." You gasped and panted as you came again.

Tenko's fingers didn't stop.

You trembled violently in his lap as he stroked your clit and toyed with your nipple. His mouth had returned to your neck and he licked the flesh. You covered your mouth with your hand to muffle your scream as he made you cum a third time. You weren't sure how much longer you would be able to last and you didn't want to force him into having to carry you back to your dorm because of your shaky legs. You whimpered the safe word and he removed his hand from your bottoms.

He sucked on his fingers that were soaked with you, before sticking them in your mouth, too. You sucked on the digits slowly, keeping eye contact with him, enjoying the way his scarlet eyes were almost black from dilation. You finish and place a soft little kiss against his lips.

"My Tenko's such a fast learner."

He blushes as a shy expression appears on his face. You smile and rest your head against his shoulder, thinking about how lovely he looked when his cheeks matched the sunset.

×X×

It was the day before opening night and things were rough.

There had been too many technical issues with the stage, meaning they had to re-locate to a different theater in the building. The dimensions of the stage weren't exactly the same, but it was do-able. Apparently, there had been an electrical fire that caused too much damage and it wouldn't be fixed in time for opening night.

Moving sets to the other end of the hall cut down on rehearsal time, so everyone arrived a few hours early in a rush to get things done. You struggled as you carried a medium sized box of props and lost your footing on the steps. You nearly fall until someone much stronger than you catches you and the box.

"Oh my god, thanks-" You look up and see Touya staring down at you. He's got that bored expression he used to always wear when you first met him. You quietly clear your throat, "Thanks."

You attempt to leave with your box but he snatched it from you and walked up the stairs towards the back of the stage, leaving you behind.

In between warm ups, costume adjustments, and technical run-downs with the assistant stage manager, you return to helping the tech crew with tasks. There was still another hour before rehearsals officially started. You decide to go get food for everyone to help boost morale.

You knew that Touya wasn't the only person in the room with a car, but you didn't know any of the other available people well enough to be alone with them in a car. So, you approached him.

"I'm here on theater business."

Touya paid you no mind as he continued to scroll on his phone.

"Can I get a ride to the pizza store? The one next door to the coffee shop with the good donuts."

"Catch a train."

"I would but I can't carry everything in one trip."

He finally looked up at you and gave an exasperated stare before walking away. You began to mentally calculate how much it would cost to order a taxi. That would certainly be easier than carrying enough food for 40 on the train…

"Hey. Don't just stand there. Hurry up."

Touya was waiting for you, holding the door open.

Your face lights up and you follow after him. He lets the door shut before you make it all the way through.

"Rude!"

"Tch."

The car ride was void of any form of communication. You were thankful he had music playing. You eyed the screen, noting that it was his shoegaze playlist. You wondered if he was okay. He usually listened to that particular playlist when he had a lot on his mind. It was really hard not to bring it up.

Touya let you carry the pizza boxes yourself to the car while he sat at a table in the coffee shop. When you entered the shop and began to collect the drinks, Touya read through the orders scribbled onto the sides of the cups. They were all mostly the same with the exception of a few.

"You can have a drink, but please don't touch the black coffee and keto lemon bars."

He clicked his tongue against his teeth in condescension, "Didn't know you changed your diet. Your boyfriend make you do that?"

You dug through your bag for your wallet and pulled out your debit card and student I.D. for a discount. "Sato on lights is diabetic. Mine is the same as always."

Touya made no comment.

You paid and he sat in the car as you made a few trips back to the store to pick up the food and drinks. Soon after, the two of you were finally on your way back to campus. It wasn't a long drive, only five minutes, and Touya was already diving onto the walkway to pull up near the doors closest to the back. As he parked you continued to stare at the little stickers of puppies, kittens, and rainbows he had stuck around his dashboard. You had bought them for him a couple years ago on a whim and their cuteness looked out of place in his sleek, luxury car.

He stepped out of the car and you caught a glimpse of the keychain that matched the one on your keyring. Early on in your friendship with Touya he had made it known that he thought your handmade keychain was ugly. You thought it'd be fun to make him one too. You didn't expect to see him clip it to his keys, let alone continue to use it nearly three years later.

The cutesy stickers you bought for cheap and silly handmade keychains you recycled old craft supplies for were juxtaposed by his expensive car that could pay for your entire university tuition... It was all a reminder of how the two of you had come from completely different worlds and yet were still able to be such a big part of each other's lives.

Touya opened the passenger door, startling you. "Your little act of kindness ain't gonna mean much if the food gets cold-" He stops himself mid-sentence as he looks down at you in the car.

You frown and wiped away the tears that had formed and unbuckled your seat belt. You grabbing the carton trays with drinks and walking towards the building.

Touya walked ahead of you as he carried the boxes of pizza and donuts and tapped the handicap button with his boot. The doors to the performing arts building opened and he wordlessly followed you inside.

×X×

Touya watched as Tenko kissed you good luck before he left to sit in the seat you had reserved for him. It was opening night. The moment that everyone had been working towards for months was finally here.

Midway through the show, there had been technical difficulties. There had been a glitch in the system causing the show control to stop working and the techs were unable to take any cues. Luckily, Touya was an expert when it came to thinking on the fly so his improvisation felt like a natural part of the show. After his scene, there was an intermission and the cast waited in the back.

It was awkward as you sat in the make up chair beside Touya's. It felt like such a sharp contrast to the way your friendship normally was.

You stared at old notes on your script, your eyes still. You weren't reading and it looked like you were lost in thought. Touya's eyes quickly flitted away from yours when you looked over at him and he acted like he hadn't just been caught looking at you.

He heard you take an intake of breath, but no sound followed, which had him look back at you. Your mouth was half open until you shut it with a frown.

Touya stood from his chair.

"Fuck it."

He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you to follow him down the hall.

"W-We're on standby we cant just leave..!?"

"We're not leaving."

Touya stuffed the two of you into of a broom closet. The florescent lights were harsh on his features, the shadows digging deeper into the scars covering his face.

His piercings were usually taken out for shows but this time, they were left in. They complimented the maroon liquid latex scars that mottled his pristine skin. There were pieces of cut wire, bent to look like staples holding his skin together. His hair had been dyed black for the role. It was different from the snowy white that was so Touya, but the dark look also had it's charm.

"Touya, they could need us at any time, we really shouldn't be--"

"Give me a fucking minute."

He had months, years, of frustration burning his insides and he had to fight the flames to collect the more rational thoughts.

You nodded patiently as he glared at a box of junk on the shelf beside your head. You looked down at his hands that were balled into fists, with knuckles that paled from the force.

When you looked away from his face down to his hands, Touya's eyes went back to you, his glare now aimed at the pensive look on your face. It wasn't that long ago that being this close to you was normal.

Though Touya had said it, he never truly believed that you were the one selling him out to the tabloids. He knew you would never do that. The trust he had for you was unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

His mind raced with flashbacks of the moments leading up to him realizing he had feelings for you, the dopey faced do-gooder that didn't mind her own business but also didn't overstep his boundaries. The two of you were from completely different worlds. You could've easily betrayed him on a number of occasions and you didn't. Whether it was to support him or scold him, you were always there for him.

More than anything, Touya wanted to tell you his feelings.

Your eyes look up at him with gentle concern and he feels the guilt run down his spine cold as ice.

He couldn't tell you. He couldn't risk hurting you like that. Not you.

"I--" he cleared his throat, "I've been an ass."

You nod in agreement.

"You're my best friend." He was unable to keep his voice from shaking at the end. He was glad you weren't the kind of person to judge him for it.

"You're my best friend, too." You adjust your stance as you looked up at him. "I'm guessing... you were jealous? Of Tenko?"

"What?" His eyes widen a fraction. Had his feelings been that obvious the entire time? Fuck.

You fidgeted with a piece of fabric on your costume, looking as shy as you did three years ago. "It all started around the time Tenko and I started dating… I thought you were just jealous of him getting all of my attention, but you completely shut me out. You liked me, didn't you..?"

Oh.

He almost laughed out loud at how frustrating the entire situation was.

He simply looked down at you and made no effort to speak. The smudged eyeliner around the edges of his eyes, dark as soot, made his piercing eyes look even more intense.

"I'm sorry for not realizing sooner. It must have felt terrible whenever I talked to you about Tenko..."

He was so restless that he had to add more workouts to his routine and at one point, he even broke out a birthday gift you gave him a while back. A fidget toy, because he was always moving around whenever he got excited. Stressed too, apparently. He was so stressed recently. It was fucking awful.

He rolled his eyes, "It wasn't that bad."

You reach for his hand, careful not to ruin the make up as you gripped his fingers.

"I care about you, Touya. You mean the world to me and I never want to lose you."

It was something he had always wanted to hear, yet his stomach sank as she said it. It was a feeling he had gotten much too acquainted with recently.

He knew what was coming next.

"You're my best friend."

He knew what you were saying. He could hear it loud and clear.

"I know."

He fixed his gaze back on the mess behind you. He couldn't keep looking at your watery eyes anymore. He sighed, running a hand through his jet black hair and leaving it more wild than it already was. After a moment, he opened them to look down at you again. "I've accepted it."

He gently pat the top of your head, careful not to mess up the wig. He preferred the look and feel of your natural hair as opposed to the synthetic rat's nest the hair and makeup team picked out for you.

"Yeah?" You asked hopefully.

He hummed a quiet affirmation. "And if that shrimp tries anything, I'll deep fry him."

You pout and he forces himself to pull his hand away and reminded himself to keep his distance from you. You weren't his.

"If he's a shrimp then so are you. You guys are the same height."

"Nah," he gave you a lopsided grin as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I'm taller."

"You're delusional."

The two of you jumped when a stage hand walked in on the two of you and talked into their headset to tell someone that they found you. It was time to go.

You smiled softly at Touya before walking out with him close behind.

×X×

The performance went without anymore major technical issues. Near the end, your outfit got caught on the set and Touya handled it so professionally that it was highly unlikely that anyone in the audience had noticed.

You were backstage at the makeup vanity quickly dabbing away sweat while a mini fan blew the wig around. The cast were encouraged to go meet with the audience post-show in the lobby. The others were already out there and you were a little behind since you ran off to the bathroom after the curtain call.

A bottle of water is placed on the vanity and you look over to see that Touya brought it to you. You thank him and chug most of it. The cold was a relief. You let out a sigh as you set it down, catching Touya as he stared at you in the reflection of the mirror.

"What?"

His eyes shifted higher up from your face, to the creature that sat on your head.

"Take that shit off. It looks bad."

"No way. My hair's not done under this."

"Who cares."

"I do. We take post-show pictures."

He rolled his eyes and sips the rest of your water.

"You're just jealous you didn't get a wig."

"I said no. You should've said no." And if the costume department had an issue with it, Touya would've let them know exactly how he felt about that.

You reached for the water and pout when you realized it was empty. He smirked at you and opened his mouth to tease you about it when the assistant stage manager entered the room.

"You two are still here? Go out there and say hello. You've got people waiting for you..!"

You quickly touched up your make up before hopping out of the chair and rushed to the lobby, with Touya lazily walking at his own pace. Attendees praised your performance and after they left the cast had a photo op. Finally, it was time to hang up the costume and remove the makeup and wig. You walked down the hall in your normal clothes and passed through the lobby. Your eyes searched for black hair when a large bouquet of pink roses obscured your vision.

"Long time no see!" Fuyumi chirped as she placed a gift bag in your hand. "Homemade pastries. Shouto helped."

"I didn't know you guys were coming to opening night. Thank you so much." You took the flowers that Natsuo was handed to you.

"Oi, Natsu." Touya's said as he stood beside you. "I don't think your girlfriend's gonna be happy to hear you're giving flowers to other girls."

Natsuo's face turned beet red, "Th-These are from all of us..! Mom picked them out!" He rubbed the back of his neck. "She's sorry she couldn't come. She didn't wanna risk getting anyone sick."

"I got someone recording it anyways…" Touya couldn't hide the slight disappointment in his voice.

You gave Touya a smile of reassurance before you looked back at his siblings. "It's okay, I'll come visit over the summer and we can watch the recording together. It's better if she rests."

"Would you like to join us for dinner?" A gruff voice asks as it approaches.

"Mr. Todoroki," you bow low. "Um, I'd love to but--"

"She's got plans," Touya finished for you. Touya knew you felt grateful for his family's kindness towards you and that you had a hard time saying no to them because of it.

You smile sheepishly, nodding. "Since there's no cast party tonight, my boyfriend wanted to do something."

"Another time, then." Touya could see that you didn't miss the way his father looked at him when he said that. Enji didn't know subtle even if it hit him with a train. Fucking hell.

"Anyways," Touya grumbled. "Guess who decided to finally show up."

You look over at the direction he was facing and saw the familiar dark mop of hair standing by a pillar. Tenko held a bouquet of flowers and a gift bag as he stood in the corner.

You wave him over and he timidly approaches. Everyone bows and does polite introductions.

"Where are my damn flowers?" Touya asks with no real bite to it. He had no idea why he was trying to lighten the weird tension that had settled onto the group with Tenko's arrival. He tried to keep his eyes off of you.

"Next time I'll…" Tenko looked at you, seemingly caught off guard by Touya's sudden willingness to talk to him. "…bring you something."

"Thank you," you tell his family. "We'll definitely make summer plans, okay? Thank you." You politely bow in farewell to the Todoroki family before walking across the room to the corner with Tenko.

Touya ignored the looks he was getting from everyone except Shouto who didn't really seem all that interested in what was going on.

"Don't--"

"Boyfriend!?" Natsuo whispered wildly. "You guys really weren't dating this whole time!?"

Fuyumi elbowed him, "What Natsu means to say is it's a very surprising turn of events." She glared at him for a moment before looking over at you and your boyfriend talking. You were smiling. "She seems happy…" Fuyumi treaded carefully.

"You look like a different person." Shouto bulldozed through the strange atmosphere of the group, "It's weird seeing you with black hair."

"Okay, split dye."

"This is my real hair colour. You should know, you're my brother, aren't you?"

"I like it," Natsuo chimed in. "Maybe I'll go dark, too!"

"What's your girlfriend gonna say about that?" Fuyumi joked knowing any mention of his girlfriend got him flustered. Natsuo squawked in surprise and Fuyumi giggled as he complained.

"A bit soon to be getting married, don't you think." Shouto said monotonously. Everyone stopped and looked in the direction he was looking and they watched as Tenko slid a ring onto your ring finger.

"N-No way, she wouldn't. That's has to be some kind of promise ring… right?" Fuyumi nervously eyed Touya did his best not to show his feelings on his face.

"Whatever."

"Really? 'Whatever'?"

"Yeah. Whatever." He peeled his eyes away and focused on picking at the leftover staple glue on his hand while he ignored his feelings.

"Big bro Touya's an idiot." Shouto stated simply as he took out his phone. "I am going to call mom and tell her it's over. Do I tell her you're coming back with us?"

Touya glared at his little brother and huffed, "Yes."

He'll drive himself so he's not stuck there overnight. Shouto left the room. Fuyumi said she was gonna go too and ended up tugging Natsuo along with her when he didn't get the hint.

Enji awkwardly stood near Touya.

"What? Take a picture it'll last longer. You're stinking up the room with your old man smell."

Honestly, Touya had no idea why he himself was still there.

Well, he did, but he didn't want to think about that.

"Are you going to be… alright?"

Todoroki Enji was big as fuck and the way his voice sounded nervous as he broached the topic was so uncharacteristic. It didn't fit the version of him Touya was used to having in his head. He actually sounded genuine. Fuck this was awkward.

"If you're asking if I'm going to break down crying over a little crush then you should just shove it." Touya forced his hands into his pockets. They were some of the last people left in the lobby.

You look over at Touya and see him alone with his father. You smile at him and wave goodbye as you exit the building, the ring glinting in the light. Touya watched the two of you walked out in the direction of Tenko's dorm.

"I may be an old man that's out of touch, but even I know it wasn't just a little crush."

And with that, Enji left.

"Stupid old man. What does he know…" Touya grumbled to himself.

A lot, apparently. More than Touya was willing to admit to himself. He thought he was over the whole 'rejecting his feelings' thing. Apparently not.

He had to learn to accept it.

If anyone deserved to be happy, it was you. He'd take the heartache. Maybe he didn't have you in the way that he hoped he could, but you were still willing to be his friend even after all his selfishness.

He'd have to get over it. For your sake and his.

You were his best friend.

39 notes · View notes